A/N: Hey there! So, there's no smut in this chapter, but in case you're nice and review, there might be some good lovin' in the next chapter… (Okay, I'm lying, there will be weather you review or not. XD)

6: Adam's Black Little Thing

Yes, Lawrence really thought that when Adam rolled him over to his stomach, entered him and everything else disappeared, he'd gotten the rest of Adam's hospital staying spelled out for him, but he was wrong. To Adam, that lovemaking – Lawrence still can't say fuck as a verb, it rasps on his tongue – seems to be a one-time thing.

Less than that. Hell, to Adam, Lawrence in general seems to be a one-time thing, and a lot of times when Lawrence sees him, he wants to ask who really was fucking who when he was bored, and he wants it to sound just like the time Adam said it, but he doesn't.

Adam would tear his head off. And his emotional turmoil seems to be enough for him to deal with as it is. Lawrence wants to help him, but Adam doesn't ask, and Lawrence doesn't dare to offer.

Because he's never seen Adam as closed down as he is right now.

He doesn't even look up when Lawrence enters the room anymore. Doesn't whine the way he used to when Lawrence has to take a blood sample, and Lawrence misses that, because Adam's afraid of needles, he knows that.

Adam's afraid of everything, come to think of it. The Adam Lawrence remembers is afraid of everything, but would never admit it, and that's why the Adam Lawrence remember is so stupid, because he can't see what's right the hell in front of him.

Lawrence.

Lawrence would gladly take any fear away. His biggest desire is to smooth out the wrinkle between Adam's eyebrows, form that clenched jaw into a smile, to let Adam sleep a whole night without nightmares with Lawrence's arms around him.

And unlike the other desires Lawrence has, like Adam himself, this one's less of a stinging yearning in his fingertips, more like a dull, grinding ache in his heart.

He prefers the other desire, to be honest. He prefers the ones he can have, and Adam won't give him this one.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Adam, you're a fucking idiot.

Go fuck yourself. I refused to be judged by a damn bug.

The black little thing scurries around on his table. Its big eyes, white and blank like paper, stare up at Adam, almost curiously. Adam wonders why he's never try to smack it.

You said it was a weak moment.

So?

You want him.

Again – so what?

You said you wouldn't want him after that one time.

Well, I was wrong. Big fucking surprise, I've been wrong before. Remember that time I said my photos didn't suck?

The black little thing runs up to Adam's hand that lies on the table, and Adam snatches it away.

He hates the black little thing. He hates the sound of its feet, the tickety-tickety-tickety that runs over his floor. It touches him sometimes, crawls up his shoulder and tries to get into his ear, and that's the only time Adam voluntarily touches it to flick it away.

He's terrified of touching it. But he's even more scared of what would happen if it got into his brain.

The worst part about the black little thing is that most of the time, it's right. That's why Adam doesn't want it in there.

The black little thing is right, and the last thing he wants is that he's going to start believing it. Though now, he has to believe it, because it's more right than ever this time.

He wants Lawrence. By God, he wants him.

He wants him because those rough five minutes he was on top of him, (you never got to be on top, that's why you loved it) felt Lawrence shiver beneath him, felt the thought he is mine, he's mine, I can do whatever I want with him rushing through his head, those minutes planted a seed in his mind, it stays put and he can't shrug it off, either with pretending not to notice it or masturbation.

Adam quickly drops the thought of masturbation, though, because the next second, Lawrence enters the room with a brief smile. Without a clipboard, Adam notes.

"Are you saying hello to me today?"

Adam looks at the black little thing. The paper eyes follow every move he makes, he knows that, even though it doesn't have pupils.

It would be so easy to lift his fist, bang it down. Feel the damn thing turning into dust under his hand.

But Adam isn't that stupid.

He knows it will never go away.

"That depends," Adam says lowly, almost menacingly, doesn't look at him. "I wouldn't want to spoil you wit hellos."

Lawrence chuckles. And now, Adam knows without even looking at him, that he looks so disgustingly understanding, that he's just craving to open Adam up, look into his very soul so he can finally get to the bottom of why he's so screwed up, and they're going to have a really long talk, and Lawrence is going to be so fucking nice and fucking sweet and fucking, fucking, fucking fuck, Adam hates him so much.

What the hell gives him the right to come crawling back to Adam after the things he's done?

And why the hell would he do it when Adam's in a position where he can't run away or lock himself up?

It's hard when you hate someone and wants them this badly at the same time.

Adam's happy that their little encounter taught him that those feelings can be combined.

"Adam," Lawrence says and sits down on the edge of Adam's bed. "I think we should talk about what happened."

"Okay, now you definitely won't get a hello," Adam says and keeps his eyes on the table.

Lawrence smiles again. Adam hears something in his voice that he doesn't like. It sounds way too much like that thing that's in his own voice most of the time.

"Why not?"

Adam doesn't answer. What's with Lawrence today?

He knows you want him. It gives him leverage.

Adam's throat is starting to burn. He feels like a three year-old in a bad mood.

"Because you don't want to admit that you need me?" Lawrence says with that small smile lingering, Adam can see it on his retina.

He really does know Lawrence that well.

"Or because you're just ashamed that you showed it?" Lawrence continues.

He isn't really teasing. Lawrence doesn't tease, that's not him. He's stating, and his statements are true, but Adam still snaps and tears his gaze away from his little table.

"Fuck you!" He hisses, his eyes almost burn more than his throat. "Just because I fucked you doesn't it mean that I feel a giant loss now that I have the apartment for myself without everything smelling like your fucking six-hundred-bucks-cologne! You of all people should know that, you didn't fell magically in love with all the under-aged little girls you fucked when you were married, did you?"

And Lawrence doesn't even flinch. His eyes are still just amused, that modest little smile is still there, oh, Adam wants to slap it away.

But he settles for grabbing Lawrence's collar, pull his face right up to his, feels Lawrence's breath on his face, and for a second, his desire breaks free from the little box he's put it in, mixes with his fury, and he wants to kiss him almost as much as he wants to punch him. Almost.

"Look," Adam spits out, and even though every word should turn into a stain on Lawrence's face, they just pour off his stupid grinning mask. "Don't make a big deal out of this. I can get laid anywhere, any-fucking-where, but I haven't had sex in months, and as it is, you want me and you happen to be the person closest and I know you're good at fucking, so we can do it when I feel like it, as long as you don't think I'll get all clingy with you again. Because believe me, Larry, I won't."

And Lawrence still doesn't move a muscle. He keeps that little smile while Adam hisses and he keeps that little smile when he starts talking.

"I can get laid any-fucking-where, too," he says softly, without even removing Adam's hands on his collar. "I have a hundred interns, both male and female, and if they slept with me, their references would increase radically. So all in all, I don't have to sleep with you, and you don't have to sleep with me, but we still do it. What does that tell you?"

With those words, he releases Adam's hold on his coat and leaves the room with such a casual walk that Adam would start hating him again if he wasn't so wrapped up in his own thoughts and the black little thing's icy little voice.

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