Rebirth – Chapter 18: Learning Anew

-Notes-

Merry-2004: Aw, thank you! It can only get more complicated from here, right? ;D

Kaliska Vanka: Mwaha. Thanks, I hoped it would be believable. --exhales after 17 chapters--

AngelGardian666: Heheh, I do realize that there was quite a long while before the romance began. Being that this is an angst/romance fic, so I dealt with the angst first. Then comes romance. Then comes angst and romance in one. And then we'll just have to see whether the fic has a happy ending (romance), or a not so happy ending (angst). Mwahha!

Bell Pie: Oh ho, I don't think even Lawrence knows what he's gonna do now! Sort of ties into the title. They have to relearn all the things they thought about life, which is like being reborn, in a sense.

One warning only: chapter contains sexually affiliated subject matter.

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Adam touched the pane of the window lightly, watching the way his fingerprints remained on the glass for a short while after he pulled his hand away. They were placed, then faded away gradually, leaving behind only nearly undetecable vein lines from the pattern of each finger. Time was passing him briefly. Or not at all. He couldn't be sure. It was amazing how much of a blur the world around you became when you never slept.

He hadn't so much as bothered himself with lying down this time. It just seemed so frivilous anyway, even if he had told Lawrence that he would try. And he honestly didn't want to risk the nightmares again when his morale was already near breaking. He wasn't exactly positive that he was even tired anymore, but he had to admit that the delirium could be clouding his judgement slightly. It was about twelve when he'd sat down on his window sill to look down at the streets for a little while, and as he snapped out of his stress-induced trance, he wondered what time it was now. He blinked down at the street in amazement at how much had changed since he last remembered actually paying attention to what he was looking at. It had drizzled a little; some things were still wet and puddles gathered here and there. Less people were walking the streets and small events of commotion were taking place all around.

…How long had he been sitting here? He glanced over at his clock and saw the numbers 3:43 blaring at him with an accusing red. Lawrence'll be here soon…he thought distantly, awkwardly pushing his body out of his slumped position and trying to steady himself. Right. Lawrence. His friend. The doctor. …The…man that kissed him. He was having an odd time processing that through his tired head, so he simply let it be. Right now, the only thing on his mind was a shower. He could wake up a little, maybe, or at least stop his hair from sticking in weird directions and wash the layers of cold sweat off his skin. He was suddenly in the bathroom without remembering how he got there, the water running and steam ghosting up from the faucet head to touch his cold skin.

He stripped off his shirt with a little effort from his stiffened shoulder and tossed it somewhere, fumbling with his pants as he tripped slightly on his bad foot towards the mirror. He was halfway through unzipping his fly when he caught a look at himself in the steam-marred glass. Pale, hair matted, eyes red and shoulders trembling. It was enough to surprise him, if only for a moment. Hey, I really do look like shit. He thought with a nod, but he was too out of himself to be concerned.

Stepping into the shower was hardly the awakening he'd hoped for. The hot water felt good against his skin, but it didn't do quite enough to bring him to his senses. It was only when he felt the water running down into his eyes that he opened them and began the methodic routine of cleaning himself. The smell of the soap was doing a bit of a better job, and slowly he began to re-familiarize himself with consciousness. He began to register the pain in his shoulder and foot, as well as his hands. He'd torn off the casts long ago, having been far too hindered by them. Now his fingers and hand left scratched and bruises showing, and the nearly scalding water was irritating. Adam didn't really care. They hurt, but he had no means to mend them sufficiently. His head also buzzed from the heat touching the tender spot where his wound lay, making him grumble every now and then.

…Why did he kiss me? Adam pondered dizzily as he scrubbed his fingers through his hair. He didn't know why this contemplation was taking place, but he was waking up, and naturally that was the first thing to come to mind. How much did you drink, Adam?

Half a damn bottle. He recalled. Not enough to let his inhibitions fly, exactly.

Well then how much did he drink?

He didn't. He retored.

…To shut you up, then…

If that was the case, wouldn't he have just punched me in the jaw? At least I understand that one.

Sure. He was gonna take a swing at you. So he kissed you, so what. What do you think that means?

…I don't know…maybe he liked it…I mean…he did say he was coming back.

Maybe that was just to make a quick getaway after what he realized he did. You know. Tongue-tossing with another guy, he's supposed to suddenly enjoy that?

Maybe…But maybe he meant it.

That's really pathetic, you know?

Why would he want you? You know how pissed he should be at you.

…Yeah.

Not to mention that he's married. Married. With a kid. Remember?

And you're telling me you want something to come of this?

But…he was the one who kissed me

Adam opened his eyes stiffly, not realizing that they had fallen closed again. There was no argument for that. …Nothing. In a brief, strangely welcome feeling…he was wanted. At least, it was nice to believe that while he could, if nothing more.

He honestly had no idea how long he spent letting the water run down over him, but he was now at last somewhat alert. His body felt a little more relieved from the aching and…well he smelled good, which was always a plus. He stared at his naked shoulder for a long while after he was out, tracing over the scar in an absorbed dettatchment with equally bent-out-of-shape fingers. A scar that would always be there, and a memory that would always haunt him. He wondered how people ever got over these types of things. And he was reminded that most never did. How else does a perfectly sane person go mad? What else could he possibly think of when looking at these marks on his body?

He knew he couldn't go on like this. That was comforting, in some small measure. He would simply fall asleep eventually, or die, but either way the nightmares couldn't do this forever. With that thought as his only solace…it was being awake that was beginning to scare him. Even from beyond the grave, Jigsaw meant death for him. He was still tormenting him. Still playing one, final, sick mind game. He never had scars that laughed at him before. But it seemed that everything was new lately.

He found a pair of boxers and a white T-shirt, tossing them both on and sloppily brushing his teeth and shaving, determined to this time convince Lawrence that he was doing better than he looked. If life was meant to go on, he would have to stop lounging around the place like this. He needed to be out looking for work. He had a little money, but passed next month's rent, he had nothing, and he wasn't about to be out on the streets. His apartment was a sweet haven compared to life out there. To be truthful, the homeless always frightened him. He would avoid them at all costs, taking the other side of the street, turning his head to look forward and pretend he never saw them. Maybe because he feared they were so much like him.

Hocking a spitful of toothpaste into the sink, he wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and flipped off the light, wandering back into his apartment to search for some pants. Before he got anywhere, however, there was a knock at the door. He paused, looking at the clock. 4:39. He almost timidly walked to the door and unlocked it, fixing with the chain before opening it curiously. It was of course Lawrence, who met him with a smile and an inquisitive look. "Hey there. I can see you're up…" his eyes looked him over once, and for some reason Adam felt a twinge of nervousness for being in nothing but his shorts and a shirt.

"Yeah. Uh…how's it goin'?" he returned, stepping back a ways to allow Lawrence entry. He limped in slowly, watching the door close.

"Great. You know, you look better…shave?" he began, stopping and leaning on his crutch as he observed Adam's ironically fidgety stillness.

"You can really tell?" Adam rubbed his chin idly. "Guess I didn't realize I was getting that rough."

"Mm. See you didn't bother cleaning the place up." He cracked lowly, gazing around.

"Sent the maid on vacation." Adam said almost solemnly. Nothing ever came out as a joke anymore…

"Feeling alright?" Lawrence continued.

These series of questions had become pretty much routine for them now. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." He confirmed.

"So how'd you get out of the house?" Adam scratched the back of his head and paced around for a minute. "I mean, I figure your family would be jumping on you twenty-four-seven."

"To be honest, neither of them like it when I'm out on my own anymore." He confessed. "Not that I like the idea of them being alone anyway."

"Then…why are you here?" Adam casually stopped his pacing and examined one of his bruised hands so as not to look him directly in the face.

"…Well…I don't really like the idea of you being alone either." Lawrence shrugged.

"Come on, jeez." Adam shook his head. "I can take care of myself."

"So can they." Lawrence nodded with a small smile. "I still worry."

"Well look, man," he sighed, licking his lower lip. "If you just came here to check on me, it's okay. I'm fine. I don't want to…you know, pull you away from anything."

"Uh, no, uh…I didn't mean it like that. I'm here because I wanted to see you again." They met each other's eyes breifly, and Adam looked away, tackled by a memory of the previous night.

"…Okay then…" he came closer to Lawrence again, flipping the lock back onto the chain of his door. Simple paranoia.

"Where's the splint for your finger?" he asked, and Adam almost laughed. Lawrence just didn't stop. He really was a doctor, heart and soul.

"It was pissing me off, I threw it out." He muttered.

Without warning, Lawrence reached out and took his hand, making Adam jump. "It's still broken, Adam, you can't just take it off because it's irritating." He caught the look on Adam's face and backed down. "Er, sorry. I know, I know…the whole doctor thing."

Adam waited expectantly.

"…But it's broken, you need the cast." There it was, predictably.

Adam chuckled.

"What?" Lawrence arched an eyebrow and raised his head up, confused.

"Nothing, man…It's just, I could set my watch by you."

Lawrence smirked and pushed down a little on Adam's hand in jest, trying to prove his point. When Adam jerked in pain, however, he instantly regretted it. He apologetically rubbed the bruising, seperating his fingers out in favor of the broken one. "I should take you back to the hospital…they can reset it."

"Fuck if I'm going back there." Adam replied with more panic than he meant to show.

"You're not the kind who accepts help easily, I take it." Lawrence accused. "Alright. Didn't the doctor give you any…extra bandages or something?"

"Sure. For my ankle." Adam nodded, looking down at his hand.

"Give me some."

Adam obeyed, turning and rummaging over the surface of a desk for a while before producing a roll of gauzing. "This?"

"That'll work. Come here." Lawrence took the bandages and tore off a section with his teeth, carefully taking Adam's hand again and coaxing his fingers apart from one another once more. Adam watched in mild interest as Lawrence worked an expert hand over his finger, wrapping the stiff bandage over the dammaged bone several times. As he finished tying off the end into the makeshift cast, he tapped it a few times and ensured that movement was rather impossible. "That's better…don't try and move it. In fact, it's best just to try and avoid using that hand."

"Sure. You got it." Adam agreed, looking down at the immobile covering. Lawrence leaned down to examine it more meticulously, as was his nature, checking the ends and making sure it was secured tight enough. Adam curiously leaned his head down as well, trying to catch a glimpse of exactly what he was doing and trying not to move his hand. He cocked his head a little to the left to see, but just then, Lawrence unexpectedly rose up, making Adam pull back to avoid bumping into him, and leaving them practically nose to nose…

Adam swallowed hard and froze, not daring to move in wonder of what would happen. His mind gave him a thousand answers. Pull away, clear your throat and speak up, make a joke, something

But it was Lawrence who spoke first. "Uh…It looks…" he said quietly but it seemed he couldn't go on. Instead of scrambling for a way to finish, he gave up. Tilting his head, he took what he wanted from Adam's lips with a quick movement for the second time.

Adam felt his back arch involuntarily, some sort of subconscious push towards his kisser's body as his injured hand fell limp. He wanted it. He didn't know how or why but God, he wanted it. He'd never been treated this way. Like he was this attractive, like he was untainted. Like he himself was wanted. Lawrence trailed a hand up to the back of his head, grazing a thumb over his injury while the other hand remained reluctantly at his crutch so that he wouldn't fall over. He pressed his lips harder against Adam's, giving him each kiss like it was made in his last breath.

To Lawrence, Adam's taste had turned from interesting to euphoric, something that spelled out his humanity plainly before him with the famliar feeling in his stomach that always led to arousal. He had to still be human to have feelings like these. All the indifference, the distance, the dettatchment was swept away, and he was left pouring his gratitude into Adam with a flourish of emotional kisses. With that simple gesture, he was quickly forgetting his inhibitions. He wrapped his free arm around Adam's waist tightly and pushed him back.

Adam felt himself being led back, but he didn't quite comprehend it until the back of his legs hit his bed. He wasn't aware of any intention behind that—he was pretty sure neither of them were. But his breath caught as he slowly fell onto his back against the mattress, Lawrence collapsing on top of him with his crutch landing heavily on the floor. Adam was panting by that point, but he was also coming to his senses. Lying in bed with a man on top of him, an older man, a married man, a…well fuck, a man. Lawrence's right hand made a steady trek down his chest, then jumped down to stroke his thigh with the barest of hesitations. Adam tried to give himself an excuse to get out of this, but all he could do was kiss back and marvel at the odd tingling running through his skin where he was touched. He felt like a poor dumb virgin school girl…and, at the same time, a naïve horny virgin school boy. He was familiar with the feelings of lust and affection, but not with the circumstance.

Lawrence was getting bolder with where he touched, as his hand was now moving up to the hem of Adam's shirt. Quickly it slipped underneath and touched the bare skin lying there, making Adam grit his teeth. The hand pushed up his shirt and went back down to the waistband of his boxers, suddenly beginning to pull them down. Adam stifled a gasp and froze at that, eyes widening. "H-holy shit, man—w-w-what are you doing—?" he stuttered out in what was almost a squeak, gripping Lawrence's shirt hard with his good hand.

"I don't…know…" he murmured back huskily, unable to stop himself. He looked down between them as he slowly tugged on the edge of the garment, watching in awe as he exposed his partner a good ways. The sight of another man naked below the waist, the feeling of his body underneath him, the idea of kissing him—none of these things should have turned him on. They hadn't before, after all, or at least not that he remembered. But they sure did now. He drew his gaze back up to Adam's face, who was looking down at himself with a deep blush in his cheeks, chest sinking down in shock. Lawrence lowered himself and began kissing at his collar bone, jumping shortly as he felt Adam shiver.

Adam could hear his heart pounding, his body making no protests to the attention it was receiving. He was too surprised to do anything but lie back and relax against the kisses traveling up his neck and chin, then back down to where they began. The hand that had been touching his stomach crept down and gently took hold of his now exposed member, which was beginning to harden quickly. He yelped in astonishment and felt his jaw drop a little, conflicted with the two initial responses that the action invoked. Part of him cried out in shock, Dude! He's touching your dick! While the other part of him cheered in excitement…

Dude…

he's touching your dick!

He let out a shaking breath, lying quiet from that moment in resignation. He didn't know what else to do besides let Lawrence have his way. He was instantly melting under the caress, his body too tired and aching to care about how willingly it gave in. Only that however hard it tried, it didn't have the strength left to fight.

Lawrence moved his fingers unsurely up his half-solid erection and drew out another timid gasp, then back down in a cautiously slow motion, seeing the redness in his cheeks intensify and enjoying the sight. It was entertaining, in a way, not to mention rather fetching. Adam wasn't exactly the shy type, but somehow his walls had crumbled, probably in light of his exhaustion.

Adam clenched his eyes shut and released another shuddering sigh as the grip around him tightened, a thumb running a short stroke down the tip of the head. He couldn't stop himself from shaking. Lawrence knew damn well what he was doing, both from his knowledge of anatomy to an exactness and from…well, simply being a man himself. There was an odd way of ease and comforting about his motions that told these actions were not entirely lust inspired, but Adam was too hypnotized by it to wonder at it. Normally the agonziningly slow minstrations would drive him mad, breaking his body into a cold sweat desiring for release quickly, but something was different. Maybe his muscles were too drained to jerk with the usual spasms, or maybe this was just a new way of feeling it, but his entire form went slack without consent.

A light moan escaped him as Lawrence found a nice pace, stroking smoothly up and down the shaft with occasional extra attention at the tip and underneath the base. What had always been a roaring fire in his stomach during stimulation was now a prominent, warm ache traveling through his lower body, sending a small vibration out with every deep breath he exhaled. His blood was heating up and he could feel it rising under his skin to the places he was kissed, perspiration beginning to grow on his brow. He would have liked to respond to it, but he felt as though he'd been completely paralyzed.

He couldn't guess how long it went on like that. Lawrence's speed made no increase, and logically that should have made him extremely anxious. But instead, there were only waves of pleasing feelings at every touch. He felt them building steadily in all the right places as the hand massaged obligingly into him, in no hurry and with no intention of stopping. Strangely enough, the first signs of his orgasm began in his fingers, pushing past the pain that was there from bruises and injured bones and making a languid climb to his chest, where it moved downward. His mouth fell open again and another gasp took the air out of his lungs, an intense shock of heightened physical bliss licking at his nerve endings. He came in a great spill of fluids over his stomach, hot and gratifying as Lawrence continued to pet his still-hard cock. He kept at it with a few more sure pumps until Adam had softened again.

Adam craned his head back and let his eyes blur in a daze as Lawrence moved to kiss another tender section of his neck, feeling him let his weight drop down onto his body, careless of the mess that covered Adam's abdomen. He blindly felt up a hand in a tranquil high, touching through Lawrence's sandy locks as he lay his forehead down into Adam's shoulder. As tired as he was, he felt like passing out, but he managed to keep his head sufficiently above the water. Enough to feel the arms coiling around his waist and upper back, and the awkward but discarded feeling of his cum still spread over his skin. He was still limp and listless as he lay there, heart starting to beat slower and vision unfocused, but he managed one strained, broken statement.

"Ohhh God…"

Lawrence only nodded against his shoulder as though accepting such as a compliment, smiling to himself.