Author's Notes: The '*'s indicate a new chapter. This is a shounen-ai story, as in there's no graphic descriptions of intercourse, (No sex please, we're british!) but there's plenty of snogging.

Three kids, around eight or nine years old, approached the grey huddle next to the dumpster with suspicion and curiosity.

"Is it alive?" whispered the first, peering over to try and see it's face. The second shrugged.

"Dunno, try prodding it with something," he said. The third was a little more wary; fidgeting nervously and stepping back.

"This is a bad idea guys, what if it's a monster? What if it does wake up, we have no weapons." The second kid pushed the third back violently.

"If you're so scared Ali, go home." Ali shook his head and joined the others in searching for a stick. He first kid had already found a metal prong and edged closer while the other two watched from a safe distance. He took a sharp breath in, poked the nearest part of it, and stepped back quickly. Nothing happened. He turned back to his friends, smirking then feeling bolder, moved closer and prodded it again. The third time he tried however a gloved hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. Ali and the other kid screamed and ran off, leaving their friend to face the huge grey mound that still had a grip on his hand as it slowly stood up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing kid?" Seifer growled, dropping the child's hand and dusting himself down. "Don't touch me again." After a few moments the kid still hadn't move, frozen to the spot with fear. Seifer smirked and took a quick step forward so the adrenaline overtook fear and made the kid sprint off. His stomach rumbled audibly, he rubbed it and grimaced. Almost everywhere he went he was recognised so he hadn't the opportunity to get a decent meal before he was thrown out. He wasn't allowed to stay in any hotels and he couldn't get a proper job. He drew what gil he had out of his pocket and moaned. "37 gil, that wouldn't get me a hotdog let alone a meal." He clasped the notes tightly, hotdog – Zell – Garden...it seemed even the vaguest link back to home, to him, made his skin shiver with longing to return. But he couldn't. He crammed the crumpled notes back into his pocket and slowly sat back down. The effects of less than 2 hours sleep were creeping up on him. Fucking kids, he thought bitterly, as if I don't have enough to worry about. He wrapped himself in his filthy trenchcoat again and settled down to try and get some rest.

"Hey newbie," the voice dragged Seifer sharply out of his fatigue. He sat up quickly, knowing what was coming next. "Morning Seifer, have a good night's sleep?" slurred the deep sarcastic voice. It was owned by a tall, dark, unnecessarily hairy man with loose clothes dripped off his malnourished body like paint. In a tattered brown leather belt tied across his back was strapped Hyperion. Seifer kept his eyes on the ground.

"I don't have enough right now," he cringed, "sir, but I'll get it for you as soon as I can." The dark man shook his head.

"Oh dear, Seifer, this won't do. You know full well what day rent is every week, why haven't you got the money? There were plenty of clients last night." Seifer's face flushed, as it always did when conversation turned to his present 'job'.

"None... none approached me," he mumbled. "Besides no-one wants to be near a traitor like me..."

"That's not how it's done and you know it," the man said in a slightly more impatient tone. "You have to approach them, tell them what you have to offer or you'll get nowhere." He smirked a little and chuckled disdainfully. "Are you really still shy after 5 weeks?" He laughed a chilling, cackling laugh, towering over Seifer and making him feel smaller than ever. He stopped suddenly, leaned forward and grabbed Seifer's shoulders roughly. Seifer had to suppress the urge to gag, the man reeked of beer, piss and general filth and was now tilting his head closer to his with a less than inviting grin on his face. His grubby hand moved from his shoulder and started clumsily massaging his neck, "Tell you what Almasy," he purred. His leeching, bloodshot eyes roamed hungrily over Seifer's rigid body. "Just this once I'll let you work off this payment." Seifer's ocean-blue eyes widened in recognition as the dark man ran a yellow-nailed finger along his bruised jawline, now blonde with stubble. His eyes darted around for some way to get out of it but before he could, the man's hand had grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back violently. He licked his lips making Seifer retch before fiercely kissing him. He unsuccessfully tried to stifle a cry, muffled by the disgusting man's lizard kiss. The man broke it off and slapped Seifer hard across the face. "I'll have none of that Almasy, no-one is going to come and save someone as low as you. You're lucky I'm doing this for you, now shut up!" Seifer rubbed his face sulkily. As much as it made him want to vomit, he had very little choice, he had to do as he said or he's have no-where to sleep without being beaten up every night. Usually the thick-skulled gangsters with half a brain cell between them would have been no problem, but this man had his Hyperion, and was a lot stronger than he looked. He had racked his brains thinking of a way to get out of it, but the man had friends in high and not necessarily law abiding places which could find him anywhere. As long as Squall never, ever found out, or found him for that matter, he could just close his eyes and his mind tightly and block everything out.

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