It was Alfred's sixteenth birthday, three months after Arthur's family moved back to England. Alfred sat on a hill, close enough to town to see the huge 4th of July fireworks, but far enough away that he knew nobody would bother him. Well, he thought he would not be bothered, but midway through the event, he felt someone's big hand on his shoulder.

Alfred's sky blue eyes met the violet ones of his basketball teammate and rival, Ivan Braginski. "Sitting alone on a hilltop, alone with your tears is no good way to be spending your birthday, da?"

Alfred hadn't even realized he was crying until now and swiftly wiped the tears off his face. "I'm not crying, Braginski, go away," Alfred snapped, rubbing furiously at his face.

"Yes you are, you've been crying since that British boy left. His name was Arthur, da?" Ivan said, sitting down next to him.

"I'm not crying. The hero never cries," Alfred whispered, pressing his face into his knees.

"Ah, do not worry about crying. You're strong, Alfred, and you hold so many people when they're weak," he said quietly, "So sometimes it's okay to be fragile and let someone else do the holding." Ivan put his hand on the ground behind Alfred and leaned in closer. "And I could do the that."

"As if you would."

"I want to be your friend," he said moving his hand next to Alfred's hip and pressing their sides against each other. And so much more, he thought. I want you to be mine and no one else's. I want you to look at me the way you looked at the British boy. Breaking down, Alfred shoved his face into the crook of Ivan's neck, desperately gasping, and let out the heaving sobs he kept in around everyone else.

"There, there," Ivan whispered, rubbing his back. "There, there." And Alfred was caught like a rat in a trap. SNAP!


"You know punks turn me on, oui?" Arthur's classmate, Francis, said leeringly.

"I said back off, you bloody frog! And get your hand off my arse!" Arthur yelled, slapping at the fingers stroking lustfully at the denim.

"Ohonhon, you're a feisty one, are you not? That attitude is almost as sexy as that ass," He purred, pinning Arthur between his body and the cabinets. "And I will get you eventually, whether you like it or not..." Francis murmured, running his hand down the length of Arthur's hip before sauntering away.

Arthur stared at the now empty classroom, swaying on his feet. Why doesn't anyone notice? He thought, it happens every day. And when someone does notice, why do they assume it's nothing? Can't they see how scared I am?


As we lay on our sides, his hand stroked up and down my stomach, sweet Russian nothings whispering into my ear. It should have felt loving, but there was an edge to his voice, possessiveness in his touch that should have sent me running; except, I could not leave now. By the time I realized something was wrong, I was already in too deep.

Ever since Ivan and Alfred started dating, Matthew was nervous. He kept warning Alfred again and again to leave Ivan, that something was off about their whole relationship, but Alfred did not listen. When he looked at Ivan, Alfred only saw his savior, instead of the dangerous, dominating person Matthew saw under the exterior.

Matthew was always really good at knowing a person's true intentions, regardless of what they said or did. It was obvious to all that Ivan wanted Alfred to be his own, and everyone thought it was absolutely great that after suffering a huge heartbreak Alfred had found a new love. But underneath all those sweet words and kind gestures, there was something sinister and controlling about Ivan that rubbed Matthew the wrong way. He told Alfred again and again to get out of the relationship before he could not leave, but even as Matthew spoke, he knew Alfred was not going to listen. He knew from the moment Ivan offered his comfort on that hill two years ago that Alfred was trapped.

One day, Matthew realized something must have changed drastically since Alfred had finally figured out the breadth of Ivan's domination. Whenever they were at parties, Alfred was not allowed to leave Ivan's side. Ivan kept a constant grip on him, whether it was a tight arm around his waist or a firm grasp around his hand. Alfred started to have to check in with Ivan before going anywhere and tell Ivan whom he was going with. And if Ivan did not like what he was doing or whom it was with, Alfred would not go. He said it was just because Ivan wanted to make sure he was okay, but Matthew saw it as Ivan needing to be aware of and control everything Alfred did.

At a party once, when Alfred got drunk, Ivan thankfully took away his car keys. But what bothered Matthew was that Alfred never got his keys back. He tried to brush it off by saying that he got drunk often, so it was for his own good that he could not drive, but Matthew knew Alfred did not believe a word he was saying. It was around that time Matthew noticed a worrisome dullness in Alfred's previous sparkling eyes. Alfred said he was just tired, but when Matthew pointing it out day after day for a weeks, he just got mirrored, aviator sunglasses and continued to pretend it was nothing.


"There is a party at Antonio-san's place tonight, Arthur, are you going to go?" Kiku asked his closest friend.

"Of course, I go to every party- oh, never mind… I can't go to this one…"

"Arthur, I have been aware something has been bothering you for awhile, but now I know for certain. What is going on?" Arthur got an uncomfortable look.

"It's… nothing… We should go. I'll swing by and pick you up after I change into better clothes."

At 10pm, Arthur stopped back at Kiku's apartment to bring him to Antonio's. Sitting in the front seat together, Arthur realized what a pair he and Kiku looked like. He was the hard-core punk with piercings everywhere and multiple tattoos. And Kiku was the respectable and studious college freshman that did not drink, wore a button-down shirts and dragged Arthur's drunken ass home after every party. They seemed like such opposites that nobody could believe they were friends, but only Kiku knew of that nerdy, bookish side of Arthur that made them exactly alike.

"Arthur!" Kiku yelled over the pounding music, "why haven't you been drinking like normal?"

Arthur's dancing faltered for a few moments, "I don't feel like it tonight, you can drink instead, and I'll drive you home. Go talk to that Greek boy, what's his name... Heracles. I know you've had your eye on him."

Kiku gave him a scrutinizing look as he walked away, but he assumed Arthur would tell him when he was ready.

I need to be paying attention tonight, Arthur thought. Francis is sure to be here since he and Antonio are so close. If I get distracted for a moment something bad could happen.


Alfred was on the phone with his friend Toris when Ivan came pounding into their apartment.

"Who is on the phone?!" Ivan roared. "That smile is for me and no one else!" Throwing Alfred's phone across the room, it shattered on impact. A shot of fear jolted through Alfred.

"Ivan! What's wrong with you?" He said, jumping to his feet.

"You are my problem!" Ivan exclaimed, stumbling towards Alfred.

"Are you drunk?" Alfred asked.

"That does not… matter," he snarled. "All that matters is that you pay, whore." Ivan gave him a backhanded slap across the face, sending him tumbling to the floor. "Your attention is turning away from me—and that isn't acceptable." He growled, with a violent kick to Alfred's stomach. Alfred crumpled, gasping to gain back lost breath. Ivan grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled them face-to-face, Alfred's feet dangling just above the floor. "Will you be attentive to me now?" Ivan whispered harshly.

"Yes, yes, I will look at only you…" Alfred wheezed.

"Now, why do I not believe you?" Ivan said, pulling back a big fist and punching Alfred in the face. He smiled slightly, watching with glee as blood gushed out of Alfred's nose. "Do you understand yet?"

"I understand…please!" Alfred choked out.

"I do not think you do, but soon, you will." Ivan said, slamming him against the wall, once, twice, five times. Blood trickling out of the corners of Alfred's mouth, and Ivan let him drop to the floor. "I'll do this again if I have to, but I don't wish to. I only want to be sure you are mine."

He's drunk, he doesn't mean to hurt me, Alfred thought, as Ivan staggered out the living room. And it's my fault anyways. If I just behaved better, he wouldn't have to hurt me.


A few minutes later, Arthur felt someone grinding into him. The hands trailing along his hips, the owner's groin gently bucking into him, sent titillating shivers down Arthur's spine. One thing could be said: it was a nice change from Francis's aggressive actions. Too much time had passed since Arthur just let himself have fun; it felt nice to relax in someone else's lecherous embrace. Slowly, so slowly that Arthur did not notice, the person danced them over to a bedroom door. Quickly opening it, the duo stepped inside, all the while still pressed close together. Arthur wanted to kiss, feel someone's warm flesh against his but with none of the messy emotions from sex.

"No sex, all right," Arthur told the guy he as dancing with.

"Ohonhon, you know that's not how I work," a French accent purred in his ear.

"Francis!?" Arthur yelped as he was thrown onto the nearby bed. He landed with a slight creaking sound, collapsing into the hard comforter. Francis pounced on top of Arthur, roughly kissing his neck, nipping at any skin he could find. The moment Francis kissed his mouth; Arthur did his best to bite him as hard as he could.

"Mon petit punk, I should have known you were into rough sex," Francis laughed into his ear.

"Rape," Arthur snarled, trying to throw Francis off of him.

"You can think that if you like," Francis shrugged. "And," he whispered, voice dropping, "scream all you want."

And that's exactly what Arthur did, he screamed as loud as he could, as layer after layer of clothing was thrown off by roaming hands, which tainting every inch of skin they touched. Arthur yelled until his voice turned raw, as his hands twisted in the sheets against the agony. He screamed until his voice died, as he curled up in the bed whilst being ripped apart, inside out.

Walking out the door, Francis whispered something that made Arthur's blood run cold. "You know, if you were more affectionate and went with it, I would l make it hurt less next time..."

N-next time? Arthur thought, still tightly convulsed and filled with exhausted fear, this will happen again?

He felt as though he had been lying on that bed for days. His fingers rubbed against the bracelet Alfred gave him three years ago. Arthur drew all the comfort he could out of it, which was very much, yet somehow not enough to make a dent in his anguish. But it was just enough for Arthur to slowly draw himself up from the bed, pull on his clothes and stumble back into the party.

Arthur slowly limped around the apartment looking for Kiku, so he could tell him he was leaving. Arthur found Kiku sitting on Heracles's lap with a bright red face. "Kiku, I'm going home," he said, "Do you want me to give you a ride?"

"It's only midnight, is something wrong?" Kiku said, getting up.

"N-nothing," Arthur stuttered and cursed himself, praying that Kiku did not notice, but knowing that he would. "I'm just tired." With a teasing tone in his voice, Arthur added, "But you don't need a ride, do you? You can just stay with Herakles for the night. Have fun."

Kiku turned even redder. "Thank you, Arthur-chan."

As Arthur stiffly walked out the door, he glanced over his shoulder to see Kiku getting back into the Greek man's lap with a smile on his face that was not commonly seen. Seeing his only friend so happy made him feel a bit better, like a drop of happiness in a reservoir of suffering.


Alfred was sobbing, broken on the floor with tears running down his face, which soon dripped off his nose. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to push those painful feelings of his own worthlessness back inside. I'm being weak, Alfred thought, and Ivan doesn't like weakness.

He could feel his sunflower necklace underneath the hand pressed tightly against his chest. When Alfred and Ivan had first started dating, Ivan gave him this necklace to replace the Union Jack that Arthur had given to him. "I want to have my love for you shown, not Arthur's," Ivan had said. Right now, after being beaten limp, it felt like a choking, white-hot collar to Alfred. It was much greater than just a pendant; it was a symbol: a symbol of his imprisonment. In a moment of anguish, Alfred ripped the sunflower necklace off, chucking it across the room. It bounced off the wall, making a taunting rattling sound as it landed.

Alfred knew he was slowly being smothered to death by Ivan's domination, but the disdainful truth was Ivan's special brand of control made him feel as though he deserved every pain he went through. Alfred thought that anyone better than the Russian was too good for him.

Alfred gingerly got up and looked around in the back of his closet for an old wooden box. In this box, he kept all of his most prized possessions. But the two he loved above all else was the beautiful scarf Arthur made him and that worn plastic guitar pick. Alfred wiped his bloody hands on the least bloodstained part of his jeans before he dared touch either item. He felt warm, safe even, as he put the necklace back on; it was reminiscent of a time when he was completely happy and felt important. A time that was long gone, leaving in its place an insignificant feeling Alfred.


The next morning, Arthur felt even worse than he did the night before. The pain was greater than ever, and he still could not get rid of the feeling that he was now tainted. He took some painkillers and jumped in the shower for the third time in the last eight hours. No matter how many showers he took, he could still feel Francis's hands on his body, and it disgusted him. What sickened Arthur the most was how he could not stop Francis from taking advantage of him, and that after awhile, he just stopped fighting and allowed it to happen. Even though he hated Francis as much as one person could hate another, somewhere in his mind, in a part he did not notice, Arthur almost liked the attention after years of being ignored.

Ten minutes to nine, Arthur walked into his literature class; one of the classes he shared with Francis. Even though it was a college course, the teacher insisted on giving them assigned seats. They were completely random and somehow Arthur had the upmost luck to be seated by Francis. Arthur stood by his seat, without sitting down, for as long as he could. Sitting was uncomfortable, and when he sat, Arthur would be that much closer to Francis.

When class started, Arthur slowly, gently sat himself down. "I can tell last night hurt you, oui?" Francis whispered in his ear, warm breath tickling his neck. "I told you that if you went with it and were more affectionate, it would hurt less…" Francis wound his arm around Arthur's waist, pulling him closer.

"Why are you doing this?" Arthur asked, shoving him away.

"I know you would never willingly choose to be with me," he said, fingers brushing against Arthur's jaw. "All I ask is that once a week you allow me to do whatever I want. You know how popular you would become if you let me, and that is what you crave, oui?"

Arthur used to want to be noticed with all his heart; after Alfred was gone, nobody noticed him. The only reason Kiku noticed him was because Kiku was ignored too. But now? Now he realized being ignored was almost a blessing; it kept unwanted attention off of him, but now that he realized he did not want it anymore, it was too late. Last night was going to happen again and again because once someone has Francis's attention, there is no way to get rid of him. In a few weeks, hopefully he will lose interest, Arthur prayed.


"What is this?" Ivan growled, yanking Alfred off his bed by the Union Jack necklace, "I thought I told you to get rid of this!" Alfred's feet scraped desperately on the ground as he tried to keep himself upright.

"I just couldn't," he whined, "I miss Arthur so much; I miss how I felt like I deserved him. I thought I was better back then, but now I know how flawed I am."

Loosening his grip on the necklace, his lover continued talking. "And I know I don't deserve you, but you still put up with me. I'm just so thankful for that…"

Ivan wrapped his arms around his smaller boyfriend and kissed his forehead. "Oh, Sunflower, we are both so flawed. That's why we deserve each other, da?" He whispered, before kissing Alfred's lips. Ivan let the kiss stay gentle- for a moment.

He hungrily snaked his tongue into Alfred's mouth, deepening the kiss, making it rougher. Pulling Alfred's shirt off, his hands clawed at Alfred's torso, hands running in mesmerizing circles along the toned flesh. Alfred let out a slight moan, submitting to Ivan's act of conquest. He was pushed back onto the bed, Ivan putting his weight into each bruising kiss atop the blonde. Alfred struggled, attempting to gain the upper hand with no avail. How conflicted he was over Ivan's dominance.

As if in response, the Russian slammed him harder against the bedframe, rough kisses trailing down from Alfred's mouth, down his naked chest to his stomach. However, the only thought Ivan had running through is mind was about his most recent lie to Alfred. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him; Ivan just told him that because there was no way someone as horrible as Ivan could keep someone as incredible as Alfred. But Ivan knew he was losing Alfred, and had to enjoy him while he could, because it was only a matter of time before Alfred slipped away.