"Well Adam, where the fuck are my clothes? Have you enjoyed looking at my cock?"

Glaring, Nigel spat out the words. He didn't know where he was, who this Adam kid was, or why he was naked. Something was off about this guy too. His face was too blank, and his eyes couldn't seem to meet Nigel own for longer than a few seconds at a time when at all. In Nigel's world, that meant guilt of some kind. Him being naked and in that presence of shame, fault, or remorse did not bode well for anyone, though his ass was about the only thing that wasn't sore.

"Your clothing was dirty. I washed them for you." Adam said, moving to his closet to retrieve his guest's stuff, all neatly hung or folded with his phone, wallet, and gun placed on a shelf inside for safe keeping. The gun was a ColtM191, single action, semi automatic, magazine fed, recoil operated pistol that chambered a .45 ACP cartridge. Adam had looked it up. Though the dark pants had been fairly easy to clean. the white short sleeved button down had taken forever to get all that blood out. Adam was proud of himself for doing so. When he was younger, he wouldn't have thought to wash Nigel's clothing at all. "While your penis is aesthetically pleasing, I did not experience sexual excitement from it."

Adam yelped in surprise when he was suddenly slammed up against his closet doors, dropped Nigel's clothing. The owner of it had a steady hand on Adam's throat, keeping him pinned in place with it. Adam stared back into bright amber eyes that seemed to burn now, wondered what he had done to offend as he struggled to breath with Nigel's fingers digging painfully into his skin.

"What the fuck did you say, you little cocksucker!?" Nigel growled. The wound in his side was protesting the sudden movement and ill thought decision of force. The rest of his body was chipping in on that verdict as well. Nigel could already feel his legs and arms beginning to shake from the exertion. If he kept this up, Nigel could tell that he would be back in bed unconsciousness again sooner than he would like. He was already starting to feel dizzy.

"I have never sucked cock." Adam managed to gasp out instead of begging for his life like other people usually did while in this position. If anything, he just looked mildly confused with a slightly furrowed brow, even though Nigel could feel the man's body tremble beneath him. "I apologize if you didn't hear me though. I'll start over for you. Your clothing was dirty. I washed them for you. While your penis is aesthetically pleasing, I did not experience any sexual excitement from it."

The only thing that changed was the tempo of Adam's words, the man seeming intent on getting out the information as quickly as possible despite their repetitive context. Nigel stared back in complete and utter shock, letting Adam go as he stepped back. Instantly regretting that movement, Nigel's body lost strength faster than he would have liked by tilting off balance, the man stumbled over his own feet.

"Shit." Nigel muttered as he felt himself start to go down. This was going to hurt. To his surprise, Nigel was saved from falling over by Adam, who caught his arm in time, even going so far as to ease the wounded man back onto the bed. Nigel tried to wrap his brain around it. The man that he had just had by the throat with malicious intent was coming to his aid like he didn't have fresh bruises on his throat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you some kind of saint or just like the rough stuff?" Nigel asked, trying not to pant for air. That had been a stupid move on his part, letting his temper get the best of him while he was still so weak.

"You're…upset." Adam told the bed, though it was an educated guess on his part. His throat hurt now where Nigel had pressed down on it. He had definitely missed a cue somewhere in the line of conversation, and now Nigel was mad at him. Adam didn't want to tell him about the Aspergers though, about his condition. He wanted to play pretend at being normal just a little bit longer.

"That's putting it mildly." Nigel snorted, chuckling despite himself. He look over to where his clothes lay on the floor and internally debated his odds of getting up off the bed again for them. His body told him to fold on that bet.

The house always wins in the end, Nigel thought sourly, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. "Could you hand me my pants?" he made himself ask, tapping down his pride to do so. To his relief, Adam just nodded as he retrieved the article of clothing. To his annoyance, Adam left everything else on the floor where it was. Pants were a good start for now, Nigel biting his tongue to keep from groaning as he slid them on, the shifting aggravating his side. He definitely needed more time to heal.

"Why are there towels on the bed?" Nigel asked, now that he was more aware of what he was laying on. The choice of bedding was unusual and kind of scratched up against his bare back.

"You kept making a mess. Towels are easier to change out and wash than sheets. I have only two sets of sheets that fit the bed, but twelve towels of assorted colors." Adam explained, happy that Nigel was still talking to him and was looking calmer about it. He picked up the rest of clothing to place it on the bed beside Nigel, unsure if the man wanted it still but it couldn't stay where it was on the floor.

"Mess? You mean I shit myself?" Nigel interrupted with a grimace, looking down at the towel's positioning again. That at least answered why he was naked. He couldn't imagine this Adam, already pegging him for a neat freak, wanting to diddle him while covered in his own crap and piss. "Wait…Did you clean me up?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes." Adam nodded, blinking owlishly. "Yes. The first day…"

"Why? You don't know me." Nigel interrupted, at a loss and not really wanted to know the amounts in detail. People got paid to do things like that. In his world, random strangers didn't do that to people they found in the street. He had the devil's luck that this Adam guy hadn't called anyone official.

"It smelled and I read that you could get bed sores while laying in your own excrement. There is this bacteria…" Adam latching onto to topic with relief, happy he was able to talk about something with Nigel.

Staring back in a sort of confused awe, Nigel let Adam ramble on about some god awful conditions he could have contracted if he had been left to lie in his own shit, the man's dull voice picking up in fervor and excitement the longer he spoke. To Nigel's further surprise, he found that he recognized that voice, the fall and pitch of it sounding like strange music to him.

Closing his eyes so that he could focus on the sound of it fully, Nigel remembered that voice, that dulcet tone that had helped him in his time of need, giving him something to live for by telling him about the odd natures of planets he would never go to and the beauty of black matter he didn't understand no matter how many times it was explained to him in excessive detail.

"…I-I'm sorry. Have you heard too much about flesh eating bacteria?" Adam cut himself off when he saw that Nigel's eyes were closed, dropping his gaze to the floor to study the grain of it. He worried that he had made the man fall back asleep.

The softening end of the melodic voice got Nigel to open his eyes again as the other man's tone turned into flat and dead as it trailed off. Nigel found that he didn't like it.

"I-I've been talking too much. I…talk too much when I get excited." Adam explained as he fidget in place, not knowing what to do with himself. Nigel hadn't stopped him though, like most other people did when they got tired of listening to him speak. Now that his eyes were open again, Nigel didn't look bored or what Adam observed as bored in people when he spoke to them at length, with pained tight expressions and glassy eyes.

"I'm starving. Do you have any food?" Nigel asked, his trance broken now that Adam had puttered out. He looked over at the glass of milk on the nightstand with distaste. His mouth already felt sour with it.

"Yes." Adam answered, staring blankly at some spot over Nigel's shoulder.

Running his tongue over his lower lip before dragging his teeth over it to tap down his temper, Nigel tried to decide if Adam was fucking with him, was just dumb as a brick, or something else entirely. Because his survival usually depended upon it, Nigel was pretty damn good at reading other people. As far as he could tell, Adam was a straight shooter, probably one of the most honest people Nigel had ever met, foolishly so at times but completely honest.

"Can I have some food?" Nigel prompted, watching as Adam sprung into motion like someone had flipped an 'on' switch in his head.

"Oh…yes. Of course. I'll heat up some macaroni and cheese for us." Adam nodded, moving toward the kitchen. They could have dinner together. It was kind of, sort of, the right time for it. Still a little too early, but better than later. Adam could work around early. Late was harder for him to cope with.

Against his better judgment and his body's complaints, Nigel got off the bed to follow Adam slowly, holding his left side as he leaned up against walls for some sort of support. It confirmed he wasn't going anywhere fast anytime soon that was for damn sure. Adam hadn't kicked him out though, even after their 'misunderstanding'.

Nigel was panting out hot puffs of pain when he got to the kitchen in time to see what Adam had in his freezer before he closed it. It was full of exactly three kind of things- frozen broccoli, frozen cooked and sliced chicken, and Amy's organic macaroni and cheese. When Adam opened a cupboard to get down some plates, Nigel realized he had better like All Bran cereal because that was all there was for breakfast.

Looking around because he was kind of stuck where he was at the moment, Nigel peered about from his spot in the hall between the kitchen and what looked to be a spacious living room with its walls lined with lots of books and heavy older furniture. In all of Manhattan, he couldn't have found a better hiding spot though, but something was bothering about this place. The apartment looked far too big for just one person in a city where space was costly. The furniture was more forthcoming than his host, telling Nigel that another person lived here.

A list of chores on the front of the fridge confirmed it, a neat dry erase graph chart dividing up what needed to be done around the place between 'Adam's chores' and 'Dad's chores'. Adam was represented by squares and 'Dad' was circles. 'Dad' was crossed out in dry erase marker though.

"Where is your father, Adam?" Nigel asked cautiously. He didn't hear anyone else moving around in the apartment. A family member could mean trouble for him.

"Queens. My friend Harlan says Queens is where everybody goes to die because they can't tell the difference." Adam said quietly as he finished his task. He attempted to smile as he made the joke. People were supposed to smile when something was funny. When Adam checked Nigel's face though, he found no sign of cheer there.

"Harlan said it was a joke." Adam said, crestfallen. There was a reason he didn't try to be funny. Not seeing the expected expression, Adam let his own fall off his face. Shifting nervously, Adam placed the plates on the table. He really wanted to get out his laptop and watch 'The Actor's Studio' like he usually did at dinnertime. He didn't know if he would be able to eat his food now without it.

Normal people didn't watch TV at the table, did they? They talked. His dad knew about his condition, about the necessity for patterns and rituals for Adam to keep calm and mentally level. Nigel wouldn't. Nigel would expect him to talk, but not talk too much. Adam found he was beginning to prefer his houseguest asleep even if he did have to clean up his mess from time to time. Extra laundry was preferable to dinner conversation.

"Your father is dead?" Nigel asked, pushing himself painfully off of the wall to stumble over to the table. With relief, he took his seat heavily with a huffing groan. As soon as he was able to, Nigel planned on hunting down and murdering the fucker who had done this to him, even if he had to kill most of New York's underworld and burn half this city to ash to do so.

Looking down at the macaroni and cheese, Nigel hoped that organic didn't mean it would taste like moist cardboard. He would have preferred some meat, but the cheesy pasta smelled like ambrosia and he was hungry enough to eat his own arm right now. Nigel glanced up at his strange host in time to see Adam only nodded his answer, the man preferring to twitch standing up rather than choosing to sit down and join him.

"My condolences." Nigel said, digging into the food. Chewing, he nodded to the empty chair. "Sit down and eat. I don't bite."

"I-I have to watch my show to eat…" Adam stammered, giving into the need to grab his laptop and set it up on the table. Keeping his head ducked down to avoid the stare he just knew would be there, Adam quickly loaded in a DVD, the Julie Robert's interview episode in particular. That one always seemed to calm him down the best. She was so smiley.

Nervous glances cast over at Nigel found the man more intent on eating than making conversation or watching what he was doing. Adam decided to take that as a good sign as he sat down in his chair, the soothing rich tones of James Lipton putting Adam at ease enough to enjoy his own food.

"Didn't get along with your old man?" Nigel prodded when Adam didn't look any sort of way about his father's demise, more involved with his show. The man beside him bothered Nigel like having a sore tooth would. He just had to keep touching the problem with the tip of his tongue to see what fell out.

The question made Adam stare back at him blankly with his brow slightly furrowed like he was trying to make sense of Nigel's words. It made the man wonder if he had remembered to say the question in English. He watched Adam eat, the man's attention held by the show. It was obvious he had watched it before though, Adam speaking along with the interview in-between bites. Realizing it was pointless to talk to him right now, Nigel rested back in his seat, watching Adam gesture with his fork and zone out from reality. Amused and slightly miffed that he was, Nigel found that he rather enjoyed the odd little show he was being given, Adam in his own little world of the Actor's Studio and cheesy pasta.

"You don't seem all that upset about it." Nigel pointed out with a shrug when Adam was done and his show over. Pushing his empty plate away so that he could lean his elbows up on the table, Nigel leaned over into Adam's space to look the strange man in the eye. Or at least tried to, Adam's eyes elusive things that danced over every other surface in an attempt to elude his steadfast gaze. "Or anything else for that matter."

"Uh, sometimes i-i-it's hard for me to, um…" Adam flinched, helplessly gesturing down at himself. It had finally come to this. He couldn't even pretend to be normal long enough to make it through one dinner with another person. Nigel would need to know about him now before the situation got too far out of hand. "It's called Asperger's syndrome."

"Okay." Nigel said. He didn't know what the hell that was. He watched as Adam stopped restlessly moving about, falling back into the odd stillness of his as he stared at some spot behind Nigel.

"One thing about it is not knowing what people are thinking." Adam explained at a loss. He hated feeling so helpless while talking to people. Everyone else made it look so easy, being able to see those hints in faces and hear those clues in voice, telling each other what they were feeling. "Like right now."

"So you don't know if I'm angry, happy, sad, or just considering taking a piss?" Nigel asked, fascinated by the concept. Adam's lack of reaction to his threats made more sense now. He hadn't recognized the danger that Nigel carried about his person like a second skin because he couldn't. "What does that feel like? To have no fear?"

"I feel fear. I'm afraid right now talking to you, and having Aspergers doesn't feel like anything. It just it. My brain works differently from NTs." Adam told him, hoping that Nigel would understand him, could have the capacity for it. His father had, and Harlan did to an extent by long association.

"NTs?" Nigel tried out the word, finding no reference for it.

"Neurotypicals…um, like you…." Adam stuttered. "Sometimes I can't understand them…especially when they mean something different from what they are actually saying."

"The word you're looking for is 'lying'. Everyone lies, Adam." Nigel grinned, finally back on a topic that he could understand.

"No. Most Aspies are really honest." Adam shook his head, wanting to Nigel to grasp what he was trying to say. This was exhausting trying to maintain eye contact and keep the other person engaged. Adam felt like he was failing at both, his eyes more on his empty plate and the menu screen on his laptop.

"So that's why you said I have an aesthetically pleasing penis. I believe sexual excitement was also mentioned." Nigel grinned, the expression widening when Adam looked more relieved than embarrassed. The man's contrary reactions or lack there of were almost charming in a way. Nigel had never met anyone like Adam before in his life.

"Yes. When I was younger… I would have just thought you were sexually excited because I was. That's called mind blindness. I had to learn to ask what other people are thinking." Adam said, making it a point to look at Nigel's jaw line, speaking to it. He jerked back when Nigel leaned in so that their eyes would meet. "H-have I upset you?"

"No, not at all. All people are screwed up in the head, some more fucked up than others. Even me." Nigel said easily, studying man beside him with fresh insight and new eyes. If Nigel had to use a word to describe Adam, the word 'sweet' would have to be it. Nigel didn't know a lot of people who could fit into that term but Adam could, and Nigel found himself liking that. Liking it a lot.

"Be nice to get an honest answer from someone for once." Nigel murmured, meant more for himself than to Adam who perked up.

"I can do that." Adam said. The act of lying and lies in general made him upset. He couldn't understand them most of the time and because of that, people thought he was dumb for it. They couldn't seem to grasp that he could see a lie when it was presented to him. What he couldn't understand was the reasoning behind the lie. That almost upset him more than the lie itself.

"Good. I'm still hurt and I need to stay here. Can I stay here with you, Adam?" Nigel asked bluntly, wanting to see how this played out now that he kind of knew what was going on. He could already feel that he needed to rest again, real food in his belly making him sleepy.

"Oh…um, yeah." Adam smiled and kept smiling because Nigel was smiling. His guest looked happy. Adam was relieved that he could convey the same feeling for once.

While Adam washed, dried, and put away the plates and such, Nigel slowly walked himself back to the bedroom that would be his new home for a little while longer. Practically falling onto the mattress, Nigel shoved the towels off of it with disgust. They landed beside a pillow on the floor with a cover folded neatly beside it. It didn't take long for Nigel to figure out where Adam had been sleeping, the injured man not knowing how to feel about that.

Adam reinforced that thought by coming in to sit down beside him on the floor, neatly folding the towels to set them aside as if for later. Nigel noted that Adam sat like a little kid with his knees curled up to his chest and his hands folded on top as he stared vacantly at his closet like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"I need to sleep." Nigel told him, not sure if he wanted Adam to leave or stay. The indecision about it confused him. He shouldn't want anyone by him while he was this injured.

Instead of leaving, Adam turned on the lamplight and selected a book from a nearby stack Nigel had failed to notice. Without further ado, Adam began to read aloud to him.

And there was his salvation, that voice. That beautiful voice full of wonder, delight, and life making Nigel relax despite everything that had happened.

Turning his head to stare at Adam, Nigel found himself admiring his strange caretaker, this man who had picked him off of the street and had taken care of him when Nigel was so sick he couldn't even take care of himself. Adam had soft looking lazy curls, dark and shiny as chocolate satin, styled more out of habit because someone had told him to rather than actual intent of allure. Nigel realized that was probably clean shaven from the exact same reason. The eyes fixed to the page were blue and clear with just enough soft gray in the mix to save them from looking cold and lifeless. Delicate features and plush soft looking lips drew Nigel in even further, enough so that he reached out a hand to cup Adam's face, making the man stammer to a halt and look up over at him.

"Did you want me to stop reading? It helped you sleep before." Adam blinked at him, his face a lovely open thing. Such a thing was rarity to a man like Nigel whose own existence was a long line of brief, meaningless relationships purely based on pleasure, and brutal violence he found invigorating and fun that sometimes involved killing people.

With those soft clear eyes that wandered, Adam's face held such an innocence about it, Nigel didn't know if he wanted to ruin it or protect it. What he did know was that he wanted to own it, mark it, make it all his. The thought of anyone else noticing this about Adam stirred up the embers of Nigel's temper. That pit of white hot rage that kept him alive, made him who and what he was, a very bad man who was in the habit of taking what he wanted. Once his mind was set on something, Nigel would make the world burn and bleed until he got it, and only death itself would be able to pry it away when it was his.

Too wounded and tired to do anything about it just yet though, Nigel let Adam go, but not before running his hands through those curls to find the locks just as soft as he imagined. The cool sensation of feeling that warm silken hair between his fingers cooled Nigel's temper to ash as something else entirely began to grip at his heart, a growing need like an addiction.

Unsure of what to do now that Nigel was touching him but not in the bad way like before, Adam started to put the book away when his arm was grabbed. Startled by the contact, Adam looked up to meet those intense amber eyes, half lidded yet burning like strange stars.

Made plaint by confusion Nigel was able to tug Adam to him by his arm, pulling him up into the small bed. Adam found himself rearranged so that Nigel could place his head in Adam's lap with one of the man's long muscular arms thrown over Adam's legs as if he keep him there. Confused but not uncomfortable where he was now, Adam stayed still, feeling Nigel breath in his lap and his hand begin to caress his leg, all the new sensations rhythmic and soothing.

"Keep reading. I love your voice, darling."

OoOoO
TBC