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Lucas continues to drag Liam until the door gets kicked shut behind them. It unfortunately looks like they've walked into one of the rooms at his local shelter, but there's a creaking spring bed, so it suits the purpose. If they even make it to the bed. He just drops Liam on the ground once they've reached the middle of the room and starts pacing in front of him, trying to work up some of his old anger. In a moment, maybe he'll remember Liam is there.

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Liam inhales sharply at the unexpected intrusion, squirming and tightening around Lucas's fingers. It hurts, his body wasn't prepared for that, but it feels good. He tries to nod, but that only increases the sharp pain on his scalp, making his eyes water.

"Ow," he whispers, attempting to reach up and massage the back of his head before remembering that his hands are tied.

"Good."

Lucas leans his forehead against Liam's straining temple and moves his hand steadily. Even as his eyes droop and he almost nuzzles into the side of Liam's face, he murmurs a string of insults, usually in English but occasionally in Russian. "You are filth," is followed by "блядивый бархотка" which is followed by "I could tear you to pieces on this floor."

Liam shivers, leaning against Lucas's cheek, dizzied by the combination of tenderness and abuse.

"I know," he pants weakly. "I am, you could-- don't stop-- "

His hand in Liam's hair twists harder as the other speeds up. His tongue extends to catch his ear and then his teeth bite down onto it, digging into cartilage.

Liam whimpers uselessly, rocking his hips against Lucas's hand, seeking pleasure to distract from the pain.

"You will come on this floor, bound, pathetic," he hisses around the grip his teeth claim. "And you will thank me for using you."

Liam nods, tears in his eyes. "Use me," he gasps. "I'm worthless. I'll come whenever you want me to."

Again, the tears are almost a step too far. Lucas grimaces and has to pull away from Liam, instead shoving his face down against the floor and grinding it in there. His fingers probe suddenly deeper.

"Now."

Liam is crying in ernest as he comes, sobbing into the carpet in shame and humiliation and pain and relief. He curls into the fetal position, holding himself until he stops shaking, then laying perfectly still.

"Thank you," he whispers, barely audible.

He pulls his hands away from Liam once he finishes, sliding backward across the floor to sit against the wall. He stares at Liam but his eyes go right past him, staring at all the other people that Liam is at that moment. He is Alexi, he is Toliver, he is all the whores who have been disappointed by life. He is Lucas, crying over the pieces of his brother's face.

Lucas is blank as he nods.

Liam nods as well, curling tighter, pressing his cheek against the carpet. He doesn't feel like anyone else, he barely feels like himself. He's never felt more like nothing than he does laying on this floor, spent and used with Lucas staring right through him.

He lifts his wrist to wipe away one of the tears that had stuck to his eyelashes from earlier and now came tumbling down his cheek. "I am sorry it was not better," he says quietly.

Liam blinks up at him, wiping mascara tracks from his cheeks. "Don't be sorry."

He looks down at his hands silently.

Liam grabs weakly for his wallet, trying to move as little as possible.

"How much?"

He wants to say 'nothing', he wants to escape from his shame over how useless he was. But to deny payment would be to take this out of the realm of work. That title is safe.

"Pay me what you believe it was worth," he says quietly.

"I have no idea." Liam rolls onto his stomach, propping his chin in his hands and tilting his head at Lucas. "How much do you need? For your drugs?"

That is odd. Lucas tilts his head at him, confused by the sudden change.

"... I take a great deal at a time. Two hundred pounds will last me a week. Sixty is a day."

Liam frowns, flipping through his wallet. "What's that in American dollars?"

Math. Lucas stares for a moment. "... I believe a day would be one hundred."

"Okay."

Liam flicks through his wallet, packed full of twenties. That's what you get for constantly being paid under the table. He carefully counts out four hundred dollars and holds it out.

Lucas stares again, this time at the money for a moment, but he takes it. He can't afford not to take it.

"You are being kind."

Liam laughs softly, slipping his wallet back into his pocket. "Yeah. It's almost as much as my virginity cost."

He crumples the bills in his fist and pulls them close to him. They're comforting.

"And you still wish to be 'friends'."

Liam manages to pick himself up off the floor, tugging his shirt over his head.

"Yes. Please?"

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...never saw this. oops.

that's okay. <3

<3

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