"Got a light?"

It was a quiet part of town, on the outskirts. The blood, fire and anguish was stronger towards the middle, in the dead centre of this wretched city. You were lucky to get away from the fumes of the burning city but Arthur knew a place and apparently the man who had just spoken did too. Around the back of a community building, the scruffy young man took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew the smoke into the cool evening air.

"Yeah," he replied gruffly, not sparing a glance at the new presence. He reached into the pocket of his black skinny jeans and handed the man beside him a rusty red lighter. "It's hard to start but it works,"

Arthur thought it was a little ironic really. He was so desperate to get away from the fumes of the fire but yet lit his own flame. There had always been something relaxing about taking a drag that he indulged in the terrible habit anyway. Even if he wanted to, he was sure he couldn't quit now. He spared a glance behind his dirty blond hair to look at the man who was struggling to light a cigarette. He was young, a couple years younger than himself maybe but resembled that of a child. His face was babyish and round which kind of contrasted with the rest of his body. He was a tall stature, broad shouldered and slightly tan. Arthur wondered how he managed to keep both the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and his body in general in such good shape.

He himself was rather scrawny. However, so was most people around these parts. Food was not only incredibly expensive but in short supply, survival was difficult. Arthur snarled quietly at the idea that maybe he was one of those respected high-class pigs but if he was surely he'd have a better place to be having a fag. Unless he wanted to mock him or something. It was pretty uncommon to have cigarettes in the first place.

"Struggling?" he questioned, taking another particularly long drag. Once he managed to finally light the damn thing and take a drag, he began to cough and wretch. Arthur chuckled lowly.

"Gross! How do you stand here and smoke these things?!" he exclaimed, coughing some more and holding the lit cigarette between his fingers. So that was it, he'd never smoked before. He handed the older man his lighter back which he promptly shoved back in the same pocket he retrieved it.

"You get use to it kid," he answered him, looking at his own cigarette.

"Kid? I'm not a kid," the taller man protested. "There's no place to be a child in a place like this,"

His voice got quieter as he spoke. He was probably right after all. Arthur turned to look at him and he was leaning on the wall of the building. He flicked the cigarette in his hands to the floor and stomped on it with his heavy boots; pressing it into the ground. You couldn't be a child in a place like this, not unless you were actually under the age of 12. In which case you were protected.

"I suppose you're right," he remarked, blowing more smoke into the air and watching as the cigarette got smaller. The man grinned at him.

"My name is Alfred," he informed him, reaching to hold his hand out towards him. Arthur looked down at the outstretched hand, wondering why he was being so formal and what exactly he was trying to gain by telling him his name. It was a dangerous society and you had to watch who you spoke to but this man didn't seem to care. Maybe it wasn't his real name. In any case, he should be careful even if the other man wasn't being.

So hesitantly, he shook his hand. It was a firm handshake but Arthur did not tell him his name in response. Alfred tilted his head to one side almost expectant for an a return of name exchange as he let go of his hand and his arm swung back by his side.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" he asked.

"It's Arthur,"

"Well it's nice to meet you Arthur!"

That conversation seemed long in the distance. It had been a while since Arthur had seen the cheshire grin on the boy's face and for some reason he felt almost delighted to see his face again a week later in the same spot behind the community building. It happened again and again. Even though he didn't smoke he kept attempting to take a drag to match him but failing and coughing up the smoke. Alfred was persistent and he kept making small talk. Just stupid things really, sometimes about his twin brother, sometimes about the weather although there wasn't much weather you could see unless it rained.

Arthur would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it. It had been a while since someone had gone to the bother to make such a large amount of conversation with him. Better yet, keep coming day after day to see him. Some days Arthur didn't go there, protests took up a lot of time and being the ringleader he was, he didn't get much spare time to have a fag. He wondered if Alfred showed on those days.

"How can you afford to keep wasting those fags?" Arthur posed the question one day when they leant against the wall of the building. Cigarettes were particularly expensive these days, they were only for the rich or those who stole. Arthur of course, fell into the latter category since this was an addiction that he couldn't break.

"You mean cigarettes," Alfred corrected causing the smaller man to roll his eyes.

"Yeah whatever," he said flatly.

"I dunno," he lied subtly, shrugging his shoulders. Arthur had always took it as he was in the same boat as him. It wouldn't surprise him anyway - supposedly not knowing where his goods came from and hanging out every day with a man like himself when he didn't even smoke. It would make a lot of sense if he was one of his own. Although, he hadn't seen him at any protests. It was strange for a man of his enthusiasm and stature to not be interested in fighting the oppression. He had no right to question it, he supposed despite that Alfred seemed like he had a strong sense of justice. "Hey Arthur,"

Arthur's attention was caught by him saying his named it snapped him out of his thoughts. He responded very briefly with just a "hm?".

"I really like talking to you," he confessed softly.

"I like talking to you too Alfred," Arthur replied without a second thought. It was in that sudden moment, Arthur felt a tug on his arm. He turned to look at Alfred to see what he was the doing but the second he turned his head, Alfred's lips crashed against his. It was a striking warmth in the cool air and it was messy but perfect. Arthur didn't know how to respond as Alfred's hand moved to pushed his shoulders back against the wall and he deepened the kiss; exploring Arthur's mouth.

It took a while to process the events before Arthur eventually mustered up the courage to gently push him away and pry him off of his chapped lips. His sea blue eyes met his emerald green ones and there was silence between the two bodies in the cool air of the evening.

"You taste funny," he whispered softly, leaning to kiss his lips once again - not minding the taste or the texture of his lips.

"It's the cigarettes," Arthur uttered in reply, head lolling to one side slowly and eyes drawing away from his.

"Do you want to come home with me?" he muttered in his ear, hands latching themselves onto Arthur's hips and drawing his body closer. His eyebrows knitted together as he was grasped and moved. What exactly was this man after? Not something Arthur was interested in that was for sure. Did he think he could have whatever he wanted?

"Been a while since your last good lay huh?" he growled through his teeth. "I'm not interested kid,"

"I wasn't-" With that Arthur removed Alfred's prying hands from his body. Alfred seemed shocked by the way his mouth hung slightly agape. It took him a moment to push his jaw closed and take a step back from the man who brushed the creases out of his clothing and promptly left. He walked into the night and didn't look back.

Alfred didn't show the next day. Or the next. In fact Arthur didn't see Alfred again for very long time. He supposed that the younger man had given up trying to play at whatever game he was playing at when Arthur rejected a good fuck. Typical. So it turned out that Alfred wasn't as nice as he thought he was. Oh well. What did he really have to lose anyway? Not much considering the conditions of today's society. Their next meeting was far from orthodox.

The sun wasn't shining behind the clouds of smoke and ash. It was suffocating but it did not stop the masses from protesting. Raining beat downed on the broken tiles on the rooftops and onto splashed into puddles on the ground below. The paint on the signs had began to run but the people shoved them proudly in the air and yelled obscenities anyway. Their feet stayed glued to the floor and they would not budge from their spots. It didn't matter if they were beat down one by one because every time they would get back up.

Arthur's dampened blond locks glued to his face from the rain as he continued to scream just as loudly as anybody else there. His clothes were soaked through, clinging to the thin layer of skin underneath. He glared daggers at the opposing government's rats who were fighting them. It made him sick to his stomach how they stood there protected from heaven's tears in their fancy helmets and protective gear, holding their batons and shields.

He pushed through the crowds. It was difficult, especially as people getting shoved back knocked into him and made him stumble. This was one of the biggest protest rallies yet and Arthur wasn't going to let himself be pushed back. He had already made it up there once, only to get knocked back. This time he wasn't giving in. If he got to the front to scream at them once, he can do it again. Maybe one of these times the thick minded lab rats would understand.

As he pushed past the last person fighting the barrier between the government and the people, Arthur got up close and personal with one of the officers of the law. His throat was beginning to dry up from the excessive yelling, it was burning but he didn't stop shouting anyway. With a dagger in hand, he ran to grasp hold of one the officer's uniforms.

"Arthur?"

His voice stopped in its tracks when he came face to face with the man in the helmet. Somehow he lost the nerve to do anything with the dagger in his hand. Piercing sea blue eyes behind well-kept frames and dirty blond hair.

No way. He had lied to him. Well in fact, he had actually not said anything but he didn't tell him he was one of those pigs. So that's how he he afforded those cigarettes.

The mood was broken as someone nudged into Alfred as an encouragement to snap out of his daze when he looked into Arthur's eyes. It was then, he smiled. However, it was not like any other time he had smiled at him. This was less sincere and more...threatening. What came next, Arthur would have never expected.

Arthur was knocked to the floor. He hit the cold wet floor with a thud when he was knocked flat by the side of the baton. The sting of the baton was painful and sure to leave nasty bruises of blue and purple. He didn't stop even when he was down. His weapon beat into his skin until it was raw and there was no chance of him getting back up. It was barbaric. Alfred kicked him one last time in the side so he curled up in discomfort and somewhat betrayal. Even when he looked up, the blue-eyed man did not frown or cry. He did however, drop the bittersweet smile.

"That's why you don't reject and disrespect an officer of the law," He swore he heard Alfred say but he wasn't sure for the ringing in his ears as he felt himself falling into unconsciousness was too loud. In the corner of his eyes he could see red pooling from his body mixing in with the puddles below.

For a moment, he had thought he would long for those lips