Connors known for selling himself on the streets and doesn't think anyone would ever want him for anything more.
Troye kept a hard glare on the snow ridden ground, watching as his feet sunk into the frosty white powder making his walk home much more difficult than usual.
The temperature threatened to plummet even lower than its current freezing state, motivating Troye to scurry his way to the store and pick up some groceries so that he could hibernate at home for the next week, without exerting himself in the blizzard outside.
He decided to take the shortcut home, not seeing any harm in quickly passing through a couple sketchy places that would make his journey much faster.
Almost back at home, the simplified pathway that he took lead into a long ally way, which made him slightly more hesitant towards perusing it. But then the developing numbness of his toes kicked him into gear, and he causiously continued into the darkness, humming to distract himself from the oozing mold that grew on the walls.
He stopped for a moment, nearly dropping his paper bag filled with food, when he could distinguish a threateningly rough voice around the corner.
The stinging fear that automatically ran through him, directed his thoughts in the direction that most people would chose;
Whatever's going on over there doesn't concern me. Keep moving.
Troye nodded and reaffirmed his decision of ignoring the sharp voice and picked up his pace back into the light, when another identically nasty voice joined the first. He assumed they were fighting, and told himself they'd work it out.
However, his theory proved to have some holes in it as he listened. He noted that the two men weren't fighting, they were agreeing on something, ganging up on someone.
The last sound that joined the group was what made him halt his movements and pause what he was doing.
A third voice. Except this one was softer and at the moment sounded terried at whatever was happening to him.
Troye plopped down his torn up paper bag and followed the source of the voices, silently snooping to investigate the situation.
" P-please get away from me, i-I'm not for sale, anymore."
Confusion fled Troyes mind, as he tried to decipher what that could mean. Not for sale?
" I don't give a fuck about what you want." One of the gravely voices barked, and Troye cringed when he heard what sounded like a slap and then a whimper.
He nervously approached the corner where the commotion was coming from and he silently peeked around it, inaudibly gasping.
There were two burly men cornering a smaller boy his own age to the brick wall. Their victim was scantily clad, and shivering from the cold, covering up his body insecurely with his hands.
" You're such a slut." A muscly arm pushed him against the walls surface and the other man grabbed his thighs and groped at him, his finger nails leaving harsh marks on the boys fragile skin.
" Don't touch me! Get off!" The younger man tried to kick at his attackers but failed and ended up with a punch in the eye.
" We'll do whatever the fuck we want to you, whore." The words were spat into the boys ears and his red face trembled with defeat.
" Prostitutes are street property, your body belongs to us." Nasty words were pelted at the small, hazel haired, victim, as he squirmed under their heavy grip.
Just as the predators started to dominate the boy's body, Troye snapped out of his trance and couldn't bare to watch for a second longer. He quickly formulated a plan, a stew of boiling anger and hesitant fear sloshed around inside him, but his morals persuaded him to follow through.
He stormed out from his hiding spot and straightened himself up a bit before the men noticed.
" Ahem, excuse me but it's come to my attention that there is illegal behavior commencing over here, and as a member of the police squad, I simply cannot allow it."
The large men swung around in suprise, releasing their grip on the boy in the process, as he slid limply to the ground.
" Prostitution is illeagel here in the US, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn your friend here in the forces."
The empty-headed bullies took a moment to process the words, realization clicking in when they realized that they weren't in trouble, and recalling their previous charges, decided against arguing with the "police officer."
" We were just trying to tell him that, weren't we Sean?" He nudged his partner who grunted and nodded, as Troye pretended to believe their poor acting skills.
" Great. Well then, I can take care of this, thanks for the help." He smiled through gritted teeth, restraining from having a go at the two men, but knowing that the boy on the ground was his priority.
The men started to stumble away, but then the taller of the two suddenly raised a furry eyebrow, and had a suspicious expression on his face.
" Hey, I been to the station many times, and I ain't never seen you there." He squinted his eyes and scowled viciously toward Troye who gulped and fought for composure as he managed a logical conclusion.
" I was just transferred here recently from Santa Barbra. I can call up the station if you don't believe me." Troye challenged, to the man who looked uncomfortable at the suggestion of any interaction with the law, presumably due to his filthy record.
He just shook his head and stomped away, to the blue eyed mans relief. Troye waited until they were out of sight to run towards the fragile body slumped into the snow, a thin trail of blood painted the patch of snow a rusty red.
" Holy fuck, are you okay?" Troye flung himself at the crippling boy, leaning over him and helping him stand up, as he wobbled to stay on his feet.
The nameless person nodded and looked up, meeting eyes with his curly haired angel.
" What's your name, sweetie?" The pet name escaped Troyes lips before he could filter it out.
" Connor." He mumbled, blinking his big green eyes, showing off their flecks of yellow.
Troye stared for a few moments longer than necessary, unable to comprehend how someone could still look so flawless after being pushed around and punched.
" Are you going to turn me in to the police?" He whispered and broke their eye contact again, fiddling with his fingers.
Troye shook his head vigorously, smiling kindly.
" No. No, of course not, I'm not actually a cop."
The boys eyes widened and he stepped away nervously.
" What do you want me from me then?" He looked so genuinely lost on why anyone would help him out and it broke Troyes heart.
" I-I just wanted to get you away from those creeps and help you." Troye spoke slowly, while Connor cocked his head in confusion.
" So you're not here because you want sex with me?" Connor asked bluntly, making Troyes eyes bulge out.
" No! No. I mean, that's not the reason I helped you. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that, Connor." He layed a gentle hand on Connors shoulder, making him flinch and shrug away from the contact.
Troye didn't know if this was the appropriate time for him to leave, or just give him some money and be off, but somehow he didn't like the idea of separation.
" Are you hungry?" Troye spoke up, tugging at the ends of his coat sleeve, and hyperaware of the comparison between his own layers of thermal fabric and puffy jackets, and then Connors bare arms and clinking teeth.
" I really should go." Connor explained quickly and turned to flee the scene but was caught by Troyes hand grabbing his wrist.
" Connor, please let me help you. I have lots of food and a heater back at home. I promise I won't hurt you." Troye looked expectantly at the boy, and when his stomach rumbled loudly, they knew that the choice was already made.
" Why are you being nice to me?" Connor blurted out, oblivious to the way he was making Troyes heart melt.
" Because I can already tell that you deserve so much better. You're a beautiful man." Troye spoke honestly, saying the thing he had the urge to say this whole time.
Connors cynical facial expression only faltered for a moment, before a frown twitched back into its place.
" Beautiful people don't sell their body in alleyways. That's just not how it works." He sighed sadly, and slipped his thin wrist out of its place in Troyes big hands.
" Then I'll help you get off the streets, we can get you a job and go from there. What do you want to do?" Troyes ambitious side was suddenly released, and he cancelled all plans of hibernating, instead infatuated with the idea of helping this man.
" I used to do a lot of art..." Connors eyes lit up with passion for a second and then filled with doubt. " But that's impossible now."
" Honey, please just come back home with me. I want to help you." Troye hadn't even really meant to add in the adoring name, but it rolled off his tongue so easily.
Connor was reluctant, but his shivers and aching stomach convinced himself and he shrugged stiffly, scowling when a grin cracked onto Troyes face.
~ one year later ~
" I'm so so proud of you, Connie." Troyes smile was so big that his face started cramping, and he danced his way over to his boyfriend, throwing himself into his arms and kissing any area his lips could reach.
Connor rolled his eyes as he was smothered in celebratory kisses, but wrapped his own arms around the eager boy who was still clutching the acceptance letter in his hands.
" I don't know who's more excited about this, you or me." He chuckled and reached for the paper once more, smiling as he re-read the lines for the 10th time that morning.
Connor J. Franta, we are pleased to inform you that you've been accepted to Rhode Island School of Art and Design.