Notes:

Okay, so when editing, I need to use HTML. Still can't get the paragraph breaks to stay... I'll just have to use the lines, I see.

My first story! I hope ya'll like it... I know my writing gets a little awkward at times, but it was hard discerning two blonde men without repeating their names too frequently. Also, if you find any typos, please tell me in a review, seeing as I can never catch them myself. YES, this will be a chapter story. As a warning now, I can go slowly with my stories, and if I'm not into it, I shan't type it. I'd hate to type a romantic scene if I was depressed and pissy, you know? Trying to pump out the best all the time...

Disclaimers: As much as I would love to own all the KH characters and pair them up the way they would be paired if the world wasn't so afraid of ... well, you know, I don't own them. I just manipulated them for this short time.

He hadn't been paying attention, really, but it was been hard to miss the cry of indignation that rang out on the hushed, shadowy street.

No one seemed to bat an eyelash when the sickening clack of bone against hard brick rang out amidst the swish of softly drizzling rain.

It wasn't hard to discern the tang of blood mingling with the scent of wet concrete.

It's not your problem, Seifer had tried to tell himself, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets and furrowing his brow with determination, someone is bound to notice.

No one did.

A weak whimper, lilting and pathetic, echoed out from the inky darkness.

With a defeated sigh, the man turned heel and stomped into the alleyway, his eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom. A tall, broad-shouldered figure was bent over another person- a much smaller kid, whose arms were being pinned above their head as they writhed and wiggled against the damp wall. Seifer quickly took fistfuls of the back of the offender's collar and yanked. The kid who had been pinned gave a surprised yelp as he fell and slumped against the wall.

The man was much taller than Seifer, and had a lot more muscle than the blonde had originally perceived. Furthermore, after a few tense moments during which the offender had turned around and glanced –first angrily, and then with a bored air – down, Seifer realized he recognized the man.

"Rake," he spat, angrily shoving the infamous man away, as if touching him was like sticking his hands in a vat of acid. "I should've known it was you- trying to get your hands into the nearest pair of pants, as usual." The older man – Rake – gave a low, tired growl before smirking, giving Seifer the bird, and walking off.

"S'not worth my time," he muttered as he turned heel and exited the alleyway.

With Rake out of the way, Seifer focused his attention on the kid, and could feel his eyes widen when he discovered it to be a boy, clad in a thin black t-shirt and jean shorts. He'd heard that Rake would take whatever he could get but… a young boy? Kneeling and rocking back on his heels, Seifer reached out and shoved back limp, honey-blonde hair from the boy's face.

"Yo, kid, you okay?" The boy squirmed and blinked his dark brown eyes, his face pale as he groaned. Upon closer inspection, the older man was able to locate the source of the metallic, acrid, tangy scent. Blood ran freely from behind the boy's left ear, though Seifer knew that head injuries always bled profusely, even when they were merely scrapes.

" 'M fine… where-"

"Don't worry, that pedophile is long gone. Come on, let's get you the hell home." Tightly gripping the young teen by the shoulders, he pulled the boy up into a standing position and, once he was stable, turned to leave the alleyway. "Follow me, stick close. My place is just around the corner."

He didn't check to make sure that the kid was with him before he stepped out unto the sidewalk, barely a handful of people navigating the streets in the cold, wet rain. He quickly turned the corner and threw open the door to a pretty nice-looking lobby. At a fast, impatient clip, Seifer entered the elevator and held the doors for the boy, who was roughly ten feet behind him. When the doors had closed, he pressed the button for the top floor, leaned back against the polished steel walls with dark cherry wood railings, and stared intently down at his heavy leather boots. He had been about to say something, but the doors slid open with an annoyingly high-pitched and jarring ding, and Seifer gently shoved his charge from behind. He opened the door and led the way into the pent-house suite that dominated the entirety of the final floor of the building.

Kicking off his boots and throwing his white leather trench coat into a closet, the man marched into his kitchen, patted a bar stool beside the wrap-around counter, and spoke.

"I'm going to have to clean up that scrape you got behind your head, kid," he informed the blonde-haired boy as he slouched tiredly in his seat. Seifer ran hot water over a thick cloth and spun the stool around so as to get better access to the wound before he pressed the damp compress against the bloody skin, drawing a sharp hiss from the younger boy.

"Ow! That fucking hurts!"

"Oh-ho, it speaks!" Seifer teased, lifting up the cloth to examine the damage. "Well, kid, you were lucky-"

"Hayner," the boy muttered, wincing as the hot water ran against his broken skin.

"…What?" Seifer asked distractedly, icy-blue eyes glancing up and locking with warm brown ones.

"Hayner- it's my name." The teen broke eye contact and kept his gaze sideways as Seifer continued to clean the cut and the bloody streak that ran down the back of Hayner's neck. After he was sure that it was clean and that the bleeding had stopped, he slapped a flesh-colored Band-Aid on and stood back to admire his handiwork.

Outside, thunder rolled. After a few moments, lightning flashed.

"Thank you," Hayner piped up while Seifer ran the cloth under more hot water. The man could feel the boy's gaze on his back, and it unnerved him. He wasn't used to having anyone over, especially this boy who was easily five years his junior.

"Don't mention it," he replied gruffly, scrubbing soap into the bloodstains.

"…. Could I stay with you?" Seifer whirled around and saw that Hayner had his legs curled to his chest, his cheek against his knees, and he was shivering. After a few moments, he looked up and met the older man's startled gaze. "Just for tonight…"

"Ah…" Seifer tugged his black beanie off and ran a hand back through his platinum-blonde hair. As if to give him no other option, a thunderclap caused the entire room to rattle. That, and Hayner sneezed. With a sigh, the older man shrugged. "What the hell, fine- but just for the night, seeing as it's fucking dumping out and you probably have pneumonia." Hayner gave a goofy, ear-to-ear grin and hopped down from the stool, eyeing the large living area and hallway leading off to other rooms.

"So… where'll I be staying?" he asked with a perky, bright tone, turning back around to face his rescuer. Seifer mulled his thoughts over for a moment, tugging his beanie low over his head.

"Well, first, we gotta get you out of those fucking soaked clothes." The older man instructed, looking Hayner up and down as he spoke. "You can wear something of mine... they'll be big, but you'll live." With a 'follow me' gesture over his shoulder, Seifer turned and lead the way down the hall to the final room on the right. The walls were a cold slate gray with darker blue vertical stripes, and though there wasn't anything strewn on the floor and the bed was made, the room had a messy, easy feeling to it. He rummaged through his dresser and pulled out a pair of black boxers and a white, wide-shouldered wife beater.

"Bathroom just across the hall," the man stated, thinking for a second. "You can sleep on the couch."

When Hayner was settled in the bathroom, Seifer got a spare set of sheets from the hall closet and threw them haphazardly across the tan leather couch, fluffed a pillow, and threw on a thick down comforter, just because the kid was so damp and he seemed to be nothing but skin and bones. When he heard a shy ahem, Seifer turned around and took in the sight of Hayner in boxers that reached almost to his knees, and a wife beater that extended to his mid thighs. Smirking, Seifer gestured towards the couch.

"I don't have class 'til one o'clock tomorrow, so I'll take you home sometime in the morning, I guess." Hayner nodded and perched on the edge of the couch cushions, pulling the thick gray comforter around his shoulders.

"Thanks again-" the boy trailed off, and his brows rose. "You never told me your name," he pointed out, lying back against the armrest.

"Name's Seifer," the man explained, turning and waving over his shoulder before he shut off the light. "G'night, kid."

That night, Hayner's mind replayed the entire event, and it came out like a nightmare.

He'd heard rumors of Rake Anuratta – was there anyone in this city that hadn't? But no one ever thinks it's going to be them. It always happens to somebody else. Yeah, well, it was Hayner's turn to be somebody else.

The hand had come out of nowhere; grabbing unto his shirttail and yanking him back into the shadows of the damp, reeking alleyway. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Hayner had reached into his back pocket for his wallet. But Rake would have none of it. He'd quickly pinned the skater's hands above his head with an iron grip while his free hand slipped beneath the boy's waistband. When he'd try to wriggle out of the man's grasp, he'd gotten a firm slam against the wall, which left him semi-conscious.

Just at that moment, a glowing knight in shining armor had ripped the offender off of him, although it had led to his ass getting slammed against the cold, wet cement. His wrists had ached, and he had to quickly wipe tears from his eyes, but other than that, he'd been okay.

He was okay.

Seifer woke the kid up at eight in the morning and fixed him a bowl of sugared cornflakes. While the kid shoveled down the food like he hadn't eaten in months, Seifer sipped lazily at his piping hot coffee, eyes half lidded. Absently, he realized that the kid's eyes were roughly the same color as the drink, with a little more milk stirred in. When Hayner had finished, the man quickly washed the bowl, spoon, and his mug while the kid got back into his old clothes. When he was finished with the dishes, Seifer grabbed his discarded trench coat, and then proceeded to dig out an old, beaten-up sweatshirt. Without so much as a word, he thrust it into Hayner's hands as they walked out the door.

"What's this?" the boy asked, glancing from the jacket to Seifer, and back.

"It's an old sweatshirt of mine, dipshit," Seifer explained, rolling his eyes and pressing the elevator button. "It's cold out- you can wear it." With a mumbled, "Thank you," Hayner threw the old thing over his head and entered the elevator, with Seifer following. The ride down was faintly tense and awkward, although Seifer wasn't ever one to make small talk. When they reached their stop, the doors opened unto a dark underground parking garage. Before Seifer could get four feet from the elevator, Hayner whimpered and latched on to the older man, much to his dismay. But, as he took in the kid's frightened, jittery body language, he relaxed.

"Hey, kid, what's up?" The spiky-haired blonde didn't respond, his eyes focused on something far away. Sighing, Seifer shook the boy gently by one shoulder, trying to dislodge him from his right arm. "Hayner. Hey, Hayner!" As the man's voice grew louder, Hayner seemed to shake himself out of his reverie and quickly let go of Seifer, blushing fiercely.

"S-sorry, Seifer." The boy whispered, glancing at the man sideways.

"Are you okay, kid?" the man asked, cocking one brow with a doubtful expression already on his face.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" he sighed, raking a hand back through his wheat-golden locks. "It's dark in here. I don't think I'll ever feel the same about the dark." He bowed his head, but didn't say anything else, so Seifer continued on.

"Yeah, well, you're safe here, chickenwuss" he teased gruffly, unlocking his silver sedan and revving the engine while Hayner climbed in the passenger side. "So, where to?"

"Uh… Mello Drive…" Hayner muttered, seemingly distracted. They drove the car out of the lot and slowly meandered down the gray, cold streets, Seifer turning up the seat heaters on the kid's side. With a sideways glance, the man was actually able to notice how gaunt the boy was. He wasn't skinny, really, and he seemed to have some muscle in his arms… there looked to be at least a little bit of fat on his bones. But, overall his skin almost seemed translucent, like a thin layer of porcelain- he looked breakable. With a sudden stab to the heart, Seifer struggled to fight down the near-overwhelming urge to protect the boy- to make sure that nothing like last night ever happened again.

That said, Hayner did seem to have a little fire to him, and he didn't look weak, he just looked… tired, lost. The teen noticed Seifer's gaze and the man quickly averted his attention back to the road, searching for the street sign that would give him a reason to get off the main thoroughfare.

"Turn here," Hayner pointed out, an underlying tone of harshness sharpening the otherwise neutral words. Seifer smoothly turned unto the house-lined street and drove until Hayner pointed out where to stop.

"Geeze, kid, you were kinda far from home last night." The man mumbled, raising a brow at the teen. Hayner scowled and shrugged, opening the door and stepping out. Before he closed the door, however, he turned around and fixed Seifer with a soft, tired glance.

"Thanks again, Seifer," he started, shaking his head. "I really, really mean it." Seifer couldn't stop the large grin that spread across his face.

"Yeah, whatever. Now get out of my sight, you mooch."

Hayner laughed, and the carefree expression on his face lifted a weight on his shoulders Seifer hadn't been aware he'd been carrying. Without even bothering to make sure the teen got into his house, the man turned his vehicle around, tires screeching, and shot out of the suburban neighborhood.

Hayner brought his fist against the door for the second time, although he did it with a little bit more force. Finally, the door opened and revealed Seifer, in baggy cargo pants, a black, tight-fitting t-shirt and the black beanie that seemed to be all but glued to his follicles.

"Hey, chickenwuss," Seifer muttered, clearly surprised. Hayner grinned sheepishly, holding out a lump of brown cloth.

"Last week, when you… I totally forgot to give you back your sweatshirt." Seifer glanced down at it a moment before he took it in hand, examining it. The boy couldn't help but feel a little bit angry at how the man was probing the old rag, as if he thought Hayner would have damaged it.

"Do you… wanna come in?" Seifer offered, gesturing into the condo. Hayner felt his stomach convulse as he caught the whiff of breakfast, and then guilt twisted his intestines as he realized how early he'd come by.

"Yeah," Hayner whispered, shrugging and avoiding eye contact by staring at Seifer's dark-grey combat boots. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Hayner made it a habit to show up for breakfast. Seifer didn't mind, really, though the kid didn't need to know that. After the initial shock from the boy that the older man could cook – and quite decently, one might add – they had become comfortable and thrown around idle chitchat.

Sometimes, when the younger boy wouldn't show up, Seifer would pace restlessly around the suite, cleaning his room, organizing his little-more-than-meager DVD collection, flipping his cell phone open and closed incessantly while sitting on a stool and not eating a bite of food.

On the days that Hayner would show up, Seifer was relieved of the heavy burden on his shoulders that became marginally more and more noticeable the longer that the teen was gone. He wouldn't let any of these emotions, show, however; his beanie was pulled low enough to obscure his over-expressive eyebrows, and his lip were set in a permanent neutral line.

"Where'd your get that scar?" Hayner had asked one morning between shoveling mouthfuls of scrambled egg into his mouth. Seifer looked up and rubbed absently at his forehead, down which a jagged scar ran, ending at the middle of his nose- when had the kid been given a chance to notice it?

"In an accident," the older man mumbled, washing his dishes in the sink.

"Liar!" the boy hissed back. Seifer whirled around, a harsh glare on his face, though it softened when he saw Hayner's playful smirk. "You're horrible at lying," Hayner explained, averting his gaze down at his food. How could the kid already know him that well? With a sigh, the older man settled down in a stool next to Hayner's and cradled his chin in his hands.

"It was stupid, really," he started, vivid images coming to life every time he blinked. "I'd been walking home when I was in… junior year, I think. I passed through this little park every time I walked home, and there was this bridge… when I was halfway across it, I heard these voices…" Seifer clenched a fist out of Hayner's sight, his blood pressure rising at the memory. "It was that damned little shit, Rake Anuratta … and he had some little sixth grader pinned up against the concrete wall beneath the bridge, and the boy's pants were down around his fucking ankles…" Now, Seifer's eyes screwed shut and he ground his teeth. "I had no idea what I was doing, I just jumped in and yanked the asshole back and threw a punch. I was mostly lucky that I hit his face… Well, he was pissed. At first he was just punching me, and most of those I could avoid, but then he pulled a knife on me. I honestly didn't know what he'd done to me until I was getting blood in my eyes. But I didn't stop… Finally, Rake left. I can't begin to tell you why, he just did. So I took this kid – god, he was a fucking baby – and I pulled up his pants and I carried him over to a busier part of the park, and I told some people what happened. …And that's pretty much it. We were both taken to the Hospital, and, needless to say, Rake got away."

Seifer turned to face Hayner, though the small smirk that had been plastered to his lips fell away when he took in the boy's ashen face and wide, deer-in-the-headlights eyes.

"Kid?" Seifer's eyebrows rose and his face contorted in confusion and worry. Had mentioning Rake brought out some sort of emotional response? Was the kid about to go into some sort of shock? For some reason, he was stabbed through with guilt at the thought that he had affected Hayner this badly. He'd been trying so hard to keep tabs on the kid, keep him out of trouble by letting him over whenever he could… But, even as he was worrying, the man couldn't help but think that the expression on the teen's face was familiar.

"Hayner?" he tried again, hoping that maybe hearing his name would jar the boy. Reflexively, Seifer reached out a hand and put it against the side of Hayner's face. Oddly enough, he had to fight to bite back an exhalation when the kid leaned into the touch. The kid blinked once, his eyes no longer scared, his face returning color. Quickly, a new expression took over his face- awe, wonderment, and disbelief.

"It… it was you?"

EndNotes:

I kind-of know where I'm going with this. Maybe some of you can see some inspiration from some of my "favorite"-d stories. I have a feeling that it's going to be hard writing the next chapter. I'm so tempted to just say SCREW THE PLOT and make them just have sex on the floor.
But no. I need to be strong. :'(