There was something about autumn that was just calming to Arthur, it was by far his favorite season of them all. Stormy clouds rolled above his head, threatening to bring down the cool, fall rains. The red and gold leaves were plastered to the stones beneath his feet, shiny wet from the morning dew and the rains from the night before. Sure, he might have been a little bias in his decision because the changing of the leaves marked the start of a new year of school. There was no hiding it that Arthur was most happiest when at school. His smarts were one of his only strengths, so within the walls of the private academy he felt powerful, like was in charge until...

"Hey! Kirkland!"

The booming voice of the obnoxious boy echoed across the courtyard, making Arthur flinch and quicken his pace. A group of jocks were gathered in the corner of the yard, leering and laughing. They pointed and made hurtful comments about everything Arthur was. The class president, top of the class...book worm, loser, friendless...

He winced as they called him a fag, among other vile names. He never understood why they picked on him so badly, but what kept him going was pretending that they were just jealous and were taking out their insecurities on him. At the end of the day, he just brushed it off his shoulders, because he was better than them. We would graduate with honors and get a good, respectable job. While the jocks floundered to make a living at a fast food joint.

As he sprinted up the steps, eager to escape their hurtful voices, he collided with a solid object bodily, sending him sprawling against the concrete beneath him. His papers spilled from his bag, getting soaked in the water pooled at the top of the steps. He swore loudly, scrambling to gather up his things. He barely heard the boy above him apologize, ignoring him, so used to being knocked over that he learned it was best not to make a scene. The other boy knelt down, making Arthur gasp as their hands brushed against each other as they reached for the same paper. He retracted his hand quickly as if burned, his gaze snapping up, greeted by the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

He gulped loudly and hastily started shoving his papers into his bag quickly, wanting nothing more than to get away from the tall boy, who was none other than Alfred F. Jones. The school's golden boy. The boy that embodied everything Arthur wasn't. Popular, athletic, ladies man; the list could go on forever.

"Watch where you're going, Jones!" he growled under his breath, standing to brush himself off and slinging his now wet bag over his shoulder.

Alfred flashed his trademark smile and patted Arthur's shoulder, who grunted and swatted his hand away quickly. "Sorry, dude. I didn't see you running up the steps, be careful next time."

"Oh! Yes, because this is all my fault, you wan-"

"OI! Jones! Why are you talking to that loser?" The annoying voice of the jock from before was heard behind them, followed by a chorus of laughter.

Arthur huffed and heavily shoved past Alfred, rushing inside before first bell rang, warning the students to get to class. The American frowned after the other boy, muttering a small "sorry" that went unheard. He waited for his fellow football teammates to catch up with him before adventuring inside. The American boy's gaze flickered over Arthur as the other held his books protectively against his chest and shuffled through the crowds to his class. Alfred noticed how big a berth the Brit gave his group, as if he were a lone sheep hoping to go unnoticed by the pack of wolves. It made a hollow pit form in Alfred's chest, hating how broken the other's was, feeling powerless to stop it.

It was no secret that Arthur didn't think highly of him, but who could really blame him. Alfred's friends made it their goal to make Arthur's life a living hell, leaving him guilty by association. Alfred tried over and over again to get his teammates to back off, but it was hard to get through their thick skulls. As much as Alfred lived and breathed for football, he sometimes wished he could get rid of the jock stereotype. Alfred was in fact a bright and caring boy with the obsession to succeed and shine. But his peers only cared about his latest football victory, not his perfect attendance or his A in geometry.

The blond sighed and stalked off to class, masking his dark thoughts by smiling brightly at the girls that waved to him, high fiving his teammates as he passed them in the hall. As he entered his classroom and took his seat, he could only think about the Kirkland boy, determined to make things right. It weighed heavy on his conscious that he always just stood by and watched as Arthur was tortured day after day.

The last bell of the day shrilled over the speakers, releasing the students from their classes. Bodies swarmed the hallways, eager to get out of the school at least. But none of them as eager as Arthur. The boy was practically running and shoving his way out the doors. His head was hung low as he ran out into the rain, not caring to get out an umbrella. His face was distorted into a grimace, obviously trying to fight off the tears gathering in his eyes. His whole chest ached from the effort, nearing choking out a sob from the strain.

Yellowish goo melted in his messy blond hair, mixing with the rain as he ran for the park in the distance, needing to put some distance between him and the school behind him. It was days like these that broke Arthur to his core. While he was giving a speech for the student council in front of the school, someone decided it would be hilarious to throw an egg at Arthur's head. Apparently, the whole student body thought it was the best joke ever, all of them laughing as the egg dripped down his face.

Once reaching the grounds of the park, he dropped to his knees behind the swings and buried his face in his hands, letting out the strangled sobs pent up in his chest. His whole body shook with each sob, overwhelmed with rage and utter humiliation. He wished he could just disappear into the mud soaking into the knees of his pants and never have to face the sorry excuses for human beings ever again. He didn't understand why he was such an easy target for bullying, but he hated it. He hated them. With every bone in his body.

"...Hey. Arthur?"

The voice quickly ripped him out of his thoughts, whipping his head around fearfully to face them. He gasped in shock, the air momentarily leaving his lungs all together, freezing like a cornered rabbit. Above him loomed the form of Alfred, shrouded by the umbrella he held above his head. Arthur now realized that he wasn't being pelted with rain anymore, that Alfred was shielding him from it.

He snarled up at the boy, wishing his voice didn't sound so weak, "W-Wot do you want, Jones? Here to rub it in my face?"

Alfred look like he had been slapped in the face, wincing from the accusation. "No, I was just-"

"Leave me alone! I don't want anymore of this bullshit! Tell your /friends/ to stay the hell away from me! I mean it!" Arthur yelled at him, his voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down his face. He got to his feet and stalked off in the rain, not giving Alfred a second glance.

The boy watched as Arthur disappeared down the street, left with only the sound of the rain hitting his umbrella, feeling the hollowness in his gut return with full force. He wished that Arthur would trust him. All Alfred wanted to do was hug Arthur and tell him he would be alright, that he was there for him, to protect him. But no matter how many times he got shoved away by Arthur, Alfred was not about to give up on him. Because he knew it was the right thing to do, because he wanted to be a friend to lean on.

The rains didn't slow into the next day, turning the world wet and gray. Arthur sat in class, watching the raindrops roll down the glass of the windowpane. He personally liked the rain, the smell and the sound. He wished for nothing more than do be sitting out in it right now, knowing it would help to wash away the thoughts bouncing around the inside of his skull rapidly. He couldn't shake the humiliation that followed him from yesterday, not that his peers would ever let it down. He let out a heavy sigh, wishing he could just leave this place.

He frowned and looked down as someone slipped a piece of folded paper onto his desk. Looking over, he found it was from Alfred, who was looking right back at him.

"Open it," the American mouthed quietly, his gaze flickering to the paper and then back to Arthur's face.

Arthur's thick brows furrowed, staring at the paper as it were on fire. His only conclusion was that the note was some sort of insult, some rude comment to make sure he had no peace. He shot a glare at Alfred, but it fizzled out instantly, seeing the pleading look on the other's face. He shook his head and carefully unfolded the paper.

All that was written was, "Meet me on the football field after school."

"Wot's the meaning of his, Jones?" he whispered back in a hiss, feeling like this was some sort of set up to get him beat up by the whole football team.

"Please? I just want to talk...alone," whispered Alfred in a honest and sincere tone that Arthur couldn't really deny. He wasn't sure why, but he found it hard to say no to the American, not when he was giving him the saddest pout with those full lips.

"F-Fine," he huffed, flustered and sinking into his chair, finding that his heart quicken a bit from the small exchange. There was something wrong with his head, he had convinced himself.

At the end of the school day, Arthur found himself staring at the football field in the distance, struggling with the inner debate happening in his head. He wanted to trust Alfred, he really did, but instinct told him that he was walking right into the wolf's territory. But he couldn't forget the pleading look on Alfred's face, it haunted him. Made his chest tighten in a strange way.

"I must be bloody mental," he muttered to himself as he sighed and made his way to the field.

The rains had finally slowed, leaving only a cold mist hanging in the air. Arthur could see his breath faintly as he tightened his scarf around his neck. He couldn't shake the nervous feeling that had settled in his gut. He wasn't sure what Alfred wanted to talk about, and he couldn't deny that he wasn't curious about the other boy. He wasn't like the other football players. In fact, he never actually heard anything negative leave Alfred's lips before.

He cautious stepped out onto the field, his shoes squelching in the wet, trimmed grass. He froze almost immediately as the sound of shouts reached his ears, taking in the sight before him. His first reaction was to turn around and run, but he was immobilized by fear and confusion. At least half of the football team was gathered in a group at the far end of the field, shoving violently at someone. Throwing punches and kicking at a blond hair boy...Alfred!

"ALFRED!" the scream left his lips before he could stop himself. He moved without thinking, as if on autopilot. He dropped his bag and took off running towards the fight, knowing this was a bad idea, but he couldn't stop himself. He flung himself at the first body he reached, trying to pull them off of Alfred. The American had been shoved to the ground, victim to the kicks of his fellow teammates.

"G-Get off of him, you bastards!" screeched Arthur, trying to push his way to Alfred, but he was just too small compared to the hulking size of the jocks.

Alfred's head shot up, his face going white in horror as the team slowly turned their sights on Arthur. "Arthur! Run! Get out of here!"

"Oh? What do we have here? Lover boy is here to save you, Jones? How sweet?" laughed the biggest boy of the group, looking Arthur over as if he were his prey. It made his skin crawl the way he leered at him and stalked towards him. He tried to run, but his actions were too slow, grabbed from behind, held in place.

"Lover boy? Wot are you talking about? Let...let me go!" yelled Arthur in a panic, flailing around wildly, trying to get free, but the arms around his middle wouldn't budge.

"You didn't tell him, Jones?" sneered the jock at the pinned Alfred on the ground, who suffered a punch to the face every time he tried to break loose from the four boys pinning him down.

"Leave him go, Bill!" pleaded Alfred, his teeth gritted as blood slowly trickled from his nose.

"No, I'm going to have fun with this one," said the jock now called Bill. He turned his attentions on Arthur and delivered a punch right into his gut before he even new what was happening.

Arthur's vision blurred from the impact, the pain so great it knocked the wind out of him, making him double over, only held up by the arms still around him. Bill leaned down and hissed in Arthur's ear, "Jones here as the hots for you. I have to teach him a lesson, yanno? Can't have fags like you on the team."

"W-Wot?" he gasped out in a weak voice as his eyes went wide, trying to see Alfred, but he was just out of sight, being pounded into the ground as the others struggled to hold him down.

"A-Alfred? ...ALFRE-Gnn!" Arthur tried desperately to call to Alfred, so frightened he could feel his body trembling, but he was cut off by Bill's thick fist colliding with his cheek. The punch left him dazed, on the point of passing out. He didn't even realize he was thrown to the ground until he saw Bill looming over him. His head was throbbing with intense pain, that he couldn't even think to scramble away.

Bill and his massive body was suddenly straddling his smaller body, making fresh fear shoot down his spine. He tried fruitlessly to get free, but Bill's weight was too much to throw off. He writhed around wildly till Bill grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson...And make Jones here watch. How does that sound, Kirkland? Why don't you scream for me?" growled Bill, the smirk alone on his face was enough to make Arthur's stomach twist in pure panic.

"N-No! Please don't...," whimpered Arthur as his jacket was wrenched from his body roughly, in too much of a panicked state to realize what was about to happen to him. His undershirt was ripped open, the buttons popping free and landing in the grass around his body. He gasped as the cold air rushed over him, feeling the chill go straight to his core. All he could see was Bill's sadistic face eyeing his exposed chest. It made him feel ill, like he would throw up at any moment.

Realization hit him like a brick wall as Bill started working on his pants and pulling them, along with his underwear down to his thighs. His brain nearly shut off as his breath came out in tiny, frightened puffs; deafened by the pounded of his heart in his ears. He was going to get raped...raped in front of Alfred. Oh god, Alfred!

The snapped back to reality, now hearing Alfred's desperate screams and the scuttle happening just over his shoulder. Looking up, he could see Alfred trying to violently throw off the boys holding him down, his face full of fear, his eyes focused only on Arthur.

"ARTHUR! Don't you dare stop fighting! I'm coming for you! Just don't give up! Don't give up for me!" yelled Alfred as he grunted with effort, trying to get to the prone Brit, his fingers digging into the dirt as if trying to claw his way over.

Arthur was about to move but all air rushed from his lungs as he felt Bill's clammy hand groping between his legs. A disgusted tremor wracked his body as the pudgy fingers felt up his member, his thumb rubbing over his tip, trying to coax him to life. Letting out a pained scream, Arthur started to wriggle and shove at Bill with all his strength he had left. He choked on bile rising in his throat as Bill closed his hand around him, trying to stroke him, holding him down with a hand on his chest.

Using all of his strength left, he desperately clawed at Bill's face and arms, twisting and writhing in a desperate attempt to break free from the molestation. His eyes strung from the tears falling freely down his face, shivering miserably from the vile way he was being touched and the cold air freezing his skin into numbness.

"Bill! Get off him! A teacher is coming!" a frantic jock yelled, already running for the safety of his dorm.

"Fuck! I'm not finished with you yet, Kirkland! You here me?" growled Bill in Arthur's face before pushing off of him and lumbering off after his teammates.

Arthur choked on his sobs, gasping for air as he shakily sat up and tried to get his clothing back on, but his hands were frozen and he was trembling too hard to even function. He flinched as someone touched his shoulder, crying out in fear.

"D-Don't touch me!"

"It's just me, Arthur," said Alfred in a quiet voice, kneeling down next to the shaking Brit. Arthur just buried his face in his hands and wailed into them. Alfred draped his warm leather jacket over Arthur's shoulders, hugging the other boy into his side, determined to comfort him...it was the least he could do now.

Arthur huddled in the secure warmth of the jacket as long as he could, comforted by the smell leather and something different...something that could only be Alfred. He clung to the jacket desperately, even when the teachers and nurse assembled around him to move him to the hospital wing of the school. He didn't remember much, after going into shock, only the smell of Alfred and the leather jacket.

Days passed as Arthur holed himself up in his dorm room, allowed to recover in piece. He was excused from his classes for the week, while the jock, Bill, got expelled. Even knowing that Bill was gone, Arthur couldn't bring himself to walk the halls of the school alone, the thought of it terrified him. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, still haunted by Bill's hands on his body. Every night, he'd stand under the scalding hot water of the shower, scrubbing his skin raw in an attempt to forget the feeling.

His only comfort was sitting in bed, petting at the fur lining of Alfred's leather jacket. He didn't have the courage to face Alfred, afraid of what he'd think of him now. His heart ached, wondering night after night if what Bill said was true, if Alfred actually indeed like him...or was it love? But Arthur was convinced if any of those feelings were real, they would have died the second Bill and his vile hands touched him. Arthur felt contaminated, like he didn't deserve to be touched by anyone.

And sharp knock on his door ripped him from his thoughts. Arthur cautiously went to the door and cracked it open, not sure if he trusted the person on the other side. It could be Bill's teammates looking for revenge.

"A-Alfred?" he gasped out loudly, pulling the door open all the way, gaping at the American.

"Hey...glad to see you up and moving," said Alfred with a sheepish and painfully strained smile. Arthur noted to dark circles under Alfred's eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Yes...Would you like to come in?" asked Arthur, hating how pleading his voice sounded.

"Yeah, sure," answer Alfred, his smile slowing growing more genuine as he followed the Brit inside. Arthur took his spot perched in his bed, picking up the jacket out of habit and holding it close, burying his face in the fur collar.

"Ah...," he flushed brightly when he remember Alfred was standing over him, watching him with those concerned, blue eyes. "This is yours...I suppose you want it back."

Alfred sighed and sat next to Arthur on the bed, hesitantly putting his hand over Arthur's, "I guess you can have it a little longer...looks like you're attached to it."

Arthur swallowed thickly as the warmth from Alfred's hand soaked into him. He instantly felt soothed and surprisingly, safe. Without thinking he flung himself at Alfred, dropping the jacket to the floor and hugging onto the boy next to him. He buried his face in Alfred's broad chest as his hands fisted the back of his shirt, clinging to him like his life depended on it.

Alfred's arms slowly came around him, holding him tightly in a strong, comforting embrace that made Arthur melt against him. It was even better than curling up with Alfred's jacket, this was the real thing. He felt Alfred's lips move in his hair slowly as he whispered, "I'm right here, Arthur. I won't ever leave you, you're safe now."

Arthur didn't doubt those words for a moment, not now or ever again, planning on never moving from those arms again.