Misfit: Okay, hello to all my fans, and hello to all the people who just stumbled upon this story. This is the continuation of the Story "Falling for Cold Hands." I mean, you don't have to read it but it would help things out in the long run. So sit back and enjoy "Addicted" This all takes place after Adam spends a few months in the hospital, in the process he and Lawrence get ... well closer.
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This is for real, this time I mean it
I'm coming clean, please don't let go
I said from the start, that you could take it or leave it
Prefer that you keep it
Don't let go
This is the best thing that I've ever had for real
Lawrence thought, and not for the first time, about when he was only 8 years old and his mother bought him a fish. It was one of those weird gifts that he had wanted, and he had done something or other worthy of getting such a "responsibility". He had loved it and named it Goldie; he had taken care of that fish until he had overfed it of course. He had watched the fish eat himself to death, gulping every fish flake that floated through the murky water as if it had never seen food before. It had eventually died from overeating, and now, as Lawrence's slightly overexcited eyes gazed at Adam in the passenger seat, he thought of the fish again.
"What are you watching me for? Never seen a man eat before?" Adam asked, through a mouthful of potatoes chips, crumbs mixed with the boyish stubble on his chin. For the past few days he had been too excited to do little more than pace the floors of the hospital, waiting for the doctors to process his papers.
Now he was staved. Hospital food was something the Adam simply couldn't stomach, everything about it screamed "sick." The runny liquid dribbled over everything, coating everything in a film that could be digested and processed, it was all so disgusting. The second Lawrence came into the room with a gym bag of clothes; his day had become all smiles and sunshine, despite the fact that it hadn't stopped raining for four days now.
Adam didn't really have any clothes open to him. His apartment had been sold, and his clothes were simply thrown away without the hope of him ever getting into them again. Lawrence didn't want to go out and buy something for him, so instead he brought him a pair of jeans and a tee shirt that he had lying in his closet. They were going home and tomorrow he was taking off work and spending all day with Adam, shopping and eating and doing whatever else he wanted to do.
Adam looked like a kid playing dress up, the shirt was at least three sizes too big and two sizes too long. The jeans sagged everywhere and the shoes were one size too small. Adam looked as if he had just come from a homeless shelter; his long scraggly hair was a mess around his thin face, his clothes weren't fitting at all, and his already thin body had been emaciated to almost inhuman lengths from lack of "real" food.
With the lack of an umbrella or hood he had raced Lawrence to the car, not fully running, and once they got there Adam joked.
"We're both cripples now." He laughed, but there was something in his eyes that portrayed a lesser glamorous light than what he felt. Still with all the therapy he had been through he couldn't run marathons, but he was fine with walking and turning his neck and standing and sitting. Now as they sat in Lawrence's midnight blue hatch-back in the parking lot of the grocery store, Lawrence finally felt both at peace and in love; a combination he hadn't felt in a very long time.
Adam shoved his hand into another bag and pulled out a handful of what appeared to be green cotton; shoving it into his mouth and not even savoring the flavor before swallowing it.
"What in the hell is that?" Lawrence asked, as the boy next to him shoved another handful of the green fluff into his mouth.
"Mhs Mhhg unnn Ikkk – "
"Swallow, okay? I don't want to have to perform mouth to mouth okay?" A loud gulp filled the car.
"Maybe I wanted to choke then." Lawrence laughed, and Adam smiled as he reached into the bag. He shoved the green stuff into his mouth and then dramatically clutched his neck, pretending to gasp for breath.
For a second Lawrence didn't see the car around Adam, nor the bags at his feet. He didn't hear the rain patter softly onto the pavement outside the car, but instead he saw the bathroom, the chains, and Adam clutching his neck and falling to the ground, one hand extended into the air as he gasped for air.
Then it was gone, a flicker of a memory and then he was laughing with Adam as he sat up in his seat and watched as he dug another fistful into the bag.
"So, what the hell IS that?" Lawrence asked, still curious. He had simply pushed the cart through the isle as Adam threw things in and the total had been $104.74. He hadn't cared, but he was at least a little curious as to what had the boy hooked.
"Mike and Ike Cotton Candy, god they used to have this like last year but only around Easter and I don't know why they'd have it in June unless it's really old but it doesn't taste stale." Lawrence reached a cold hand over to the bag and helped himself to some sticky strands. Licking them off his fingers he shivered at the explosion of sour that flooded his mouth, followed by a foul after taste. He opened the door and spit the bright green (now liquefied) cotton candy onto the pavement before turning back to Adam.
"That tastes awful AND it's stale!"
Adam shrugged as he licked the green swirls off his fingers before dipping his fingers into a bag of pretzels, "Works for me. I like it; but then again I could eat a cow." After sucking down at least half the bag he put his sticky fingers into the brown paper bag near Lawrence's side, pulling out two cans of some generic beer that they sold behind the counter.
"To us." He said, popping the tabs on both and handing the warm can over to Lawrence, taking it and registering the sticky quality of the tin beneath his own fingers. He accepted it with a smile all the same, anything at this point to get this taste out of his mouth, and he only needed a sip. He had no plans of getting drunk tonight. Lifting the can to his lips he felt the disgustingly warm liquid run down his throat and hit his empty stomach, reaching over and getting a bag of pretzels for himself.
His stomach growled in protest over the meal consisting of nothing but a few pretzels. He craved a celebration dinner, and apparently Adam; who had already eaten half his treats, decided that was just what was in order as well.
"Let's go out to eat." Adam said, putting the bag down and letting his wide brown eyes get even wider, roaming Lawrence's for approval.
"To Burger King?"
"No, someplace fancy, I'll pay you back."
"Are you asking for a date?" Adam turned a blood red, his skinny face turned almost purple as he looked back down. Then he looked back up, a purpose fully there and the shyness slightly banished, at least for the time being.
"Yeah I am. And you're saying no?" He pressed a hand to his lips before gasping, his eyes still as wide and playful as before. "I'm shocked!" Lawrence let out a short lived laugh, before nodding his head.
"Okay, you want to go now?"
"Fanciest place you know of. I want to be in my best." Adam waved his hand over his scrawny body, as if willing a tux to appear.
"I think you're drugged." Lawrence laughed as he leaned against the wheel and twisting the key in the ignition, listening to the engine purr beneath him and Adam purr beside him.
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After about fifteen minutes of convincing the owner of the place that Adam wasn't homeless, they got a seat; of course it was near the back of the restaurant. Some place with a title like "Little Italy" is just that kind of place. Three overweight men in tuxes sat on chairs in the corner of the dimly lit room playing slow soft love songs and everybody was dressed to the nines, except Adam, who sat in clothes that were too big for him, looking at a menu filled with words he couldn't pronounce and drinking a wine from a decade before he was even a twinkle in his father's eye.
Lawrence felt it. Yes he felt it flood his being with such an immense and sudden overload he couldn't help that fact that he looked like an over hormonal teenage boy. He just couldn't stop smiling.
"Can I help you?" The waiter asked, for what appeared to be the third time as he tapped his foot impatiently; his face that of a man who has smelled something unimaginably nasty. Adam's wide brown eyes looked up from his too large menu; he opened his mouth, then closed it and looked back the menu.
"I think I'll take the Seep – pie Near Alla Ven something or other." Adam said, looking up at the waiter with his same smiling eyes, as the waiter eyed the other couples in the room as if to see 'see why you can't be like them?'
"That's the Seppie Nere Alla Veneziana." He sighed, as he eyed Lawrence, "And you? Sir?"
'Oh I'm a sir now,' Lawrence thought a little angrily at how the waiter had so quickly contradicted himself at the sight of a suit.
"I'll just take the lasagna." Lawrence sighed; passing his menu to the waiter and watching Adam do the same, in the process getting his sleeve in the butter. Adam hadn't even noticed as he brought his sleeve back, unintentionally wiping the butter all over his side of the table, unknowingly and adorable.
Lawrence couldn't remember thinking anything had been adorable since he had held his Diana as a baby, now he felt like this was going to last a while.
"You're looking at me like I grew three heads. What do I have on my face?" Adam asked, swiping his butter coated sleeve over his face and when he finally realized what he had done he stopped.
'Oh. Fuck." He muttered, reaching for a napkin as everyone around them watched with wide, uneasy eyes as the perfectionist and the homeless carried on at their own table. He was usually so good at places like this. When he was with Alison he hadn't felt as if all eyes were on him, but then again they weren't at the time. When he was here with Alison he was just another face in the crowd, he was just another customer at "Little Italy". Now he was the main attraction and he couldn't be happier.
Adam's smile continued to fade as he desperately wiped at the butter, now smeared across most of the table and himself. Lawrence eyed the boy, long black locks covering most of his frustrated and yet still so peaceful face, eyes narrowed to determined slits, all over a little butter. He hadn't even noticed the waiter had reappeared with two dishes.
"The Lasagna for you sir," he said, setting down the first place before Lawrence, then screwing his face up again he set the second plate in front of Adam, still intent on getting rid of the butter. "And the Seppie Nere Alla Veneziana for you...."
Adam stopped; he eyed the plate as the waiter left; rather quickly, hopeful that he could avoid the questioning that was to come.
"And what in the fuck is this?" Adam asked, his eyes accusingly following the waiter but his voice never rising above normal.
"You have no idea what you ordered do you?" Lawrence asked, his voice calm, soothing Adam for a second, before Adam picked up his fork and began to poke around the strange dish before him.
"Of course not! The name was really awesome and I thought this would be awesome but I mean....I don't want to eat anything alive." He jabbed his fork into the dish and eyed Lawrence again.
"The cows that make burgers were alive – "
"Once. They were alive once. I'm not eating anything that's STILL alive." He jabbed his fork into the dish again. "And so I will slay the beast before I sample it."
Lawrence laughed, he couldn't help it. He was sitting with a formerly dead boy, who was now playing dress up and slaying his salad.
"It's cuttlefish in their ink...it's a great dish if you – " Adam stopped poking his dinner.
"Oh damn...", he sighed; as if honestly disappointed, "I don't eat anything I might put in a pen. Sorry, it's just I'm not into that sort of thing." Lawrence let out a low laugh as he moved his own plate across the table; however he stopped halfway through the transaction.
The lights seemingly got brighter, and the small talk around them dimmed to a murmur. He could feel everyone simply looking at him, staring at him, eyeing him suspiciously as they ate their own meals. They felt so bad for him; he could feel their disgusting pity in waves directed at his table.
Poor him, look what he has to deal with – I would just kill myself if I had to deal with something like – I wonder how he does it. The freak he's with – what's the deal with those two? It's awfully creepy and – I just don't know why he would bring that mess out in public.
If it had been any other time, any other place, and anybody but Adam he would have turned bright red and hid in the bathroom. He would have dealt with the shot to his ego; he would nurse his wounds, eat his food and leave never to speak of the event again. He would hang his head and surrender into the standards he "had" to meet.
But he was with Adam. And it wasn't any other time. And it wasn't any other place. And Lawrence wasn't going to give up; he wasn't going to hang his head, and for once he would say screw the standards.
Lawrence stood; he eyed the tables around him and watched in the dim light as the countless pairs of eyes stared back at him from their respective tables.
"Hey Adam?" The boy was now eating a piece of bread, crumbs on his chin, ruin sleeves long since forgotten.
"hm...?"
Lawrence kissed him, his lips pressing against the tightly shut soft lips that were currently holding in bits of bread. Pulling away for a second so he could watch as Adam struggled to swallow the bread in one long greedy gulp, before his eyes grew even wider and Lawrence pulled into another kiss. He snaked his arm around the boy's waist, pulling Adam up from his chair, and forcing them together. The shocked echo of gasps around the room, as the prim and proper watched this shocking display of affection, replaced the music.
Finally pulling away, Adam asked in a low tone what everyone around them had been wondering.
"What was that for? I mean I'm not complaining I just want to – "
"We're out of here." Lawrence pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out three crisp 20s and throwing them on the table. "Keep the change." He muttered as he grabbed Adam's overly long sleeve and pulled him to his side. Snaking his arm around the thin frame they walked out, both perfectly content as countless eyes watched in shock.
And Lawrence couldn't have been happier.
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Misfit: Yep, I decided to start this one off right, not like the last one which started with Lawrence being a bitch. I'm on Easter break and so I was determined to finish writing Falling For Cold Hands and start on this one ^^. I've taken most of the advice I was given on my first story, Lawrence isn't going to be as bitchy as he was, I promise. And Adam's alive :)
Also, the rating is going to go up ^ ^ Hope you all stay tuned for Chapter 2 .
