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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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"I don't want to just be 'Oh, I'd hit that' kind of hot."

"I did not realize there were kinds."

"There are." He doesn't know why he's talking about this, he's sure Lucas doesn't care, but he murmurs anyway, "I just want to be called beautiful. Just once. Not sexy or hot or anything."

Lucas flicks ash from his cigarette and looks at Liam blankly.

"Would it make you feel uncomfortable if I said it?"

"Depends." Liam looks down at his nails, scratching at the chipped blue polish. "Depends on if you meant it, or you just wanted to be nice."

"You are objectively beautiful. I do not say things just to be nice."

"Thank you," he whispers, looking away to hide his blushing.

"You are welcome." Lucas flicks his cigarette again and stares across the room, the ghosts of what went through his mind during still spinning there.

He knows he shouldn't ask, but he can't help it. "...Why did you cry? While we were..."

"It made me remember many things."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Do not be. It was not your intention." He looks a bit surprised that Liam would even think to say that.

Liam shrugs, tracing his finger lightly over the ruined veins in Lucas's arm. "Yeah. But still."

It makes him shiver, though he suppresses it quickly. He looks at Liam.

"... I have too many memories."

Liam nods, both in sympathy and empathy, distracting himself by lifting his shirt and examining the burn on his stomach.

"It is why I began to take my drugs." This is a good moment to pocket that money, now that he thinks about it.

He examines his own unblemished arm thoughtfully. "I wanna try. Show me how."

He frowns. "Why?"

"Doesn't matter why. Please?"

"It matters."

Liam shrugs. "I'll tell you after. And I'll psy you for it."

"You will tell me first." Lucas' furrowed harder.

"You're not always gonna be around to focus my pain," he explains, uncharacteristically shy. "I need another outlet, or else I'll end up doing something stupid when my feelings get to be too much."

"Morphine is the opposite of pain," Lucas says quietly, looking down at his arm. "It will not supply that need."

"Physical pain dulls emotional pain. So does morphine. Please, Lucas?"