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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 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.

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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.

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

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He looks down at his hands silently.

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

"How much?"

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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.

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"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?"

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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."

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

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

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"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.

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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."

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

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

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

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

"Yes. Please?"

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"I do not have an objection."

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He smiles brightly, as if he hadn't just been sobbing on the floor a moment ago. "Okay!"

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"... You are odd." He lifts one knee toward his chest.

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He blushes, moving over to sit against the wall with Lucas. "Yeah, guess so."

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"It is not a bad thing." Lucas pulls his crumpled and dirty package of cigarettes out of his pocket and slides one free.

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Liam giggles, letting his eyes drift shut as he leans his head against the wall. "I guess I just assume everything people say about me is bad."

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"That is dangerous." He uses a cheap plastic lighter with a picture of a mountain on it to light his cigarette and then puts the pack and lighter back into his pocket, shifting to fit them into his pants. He pulls the cigarette away and breathes out smoke. "What is bad for one is good for another."

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Liam leans closer without even realizing, drawn to the smell of cigarette smoke. He always liked the smell, even if he didn't smoke himself. "'Cause it's usually bad, though. Even if someone says I'm hot, it's really only 'cause they wanna fuck me."

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He frowns at Liam. "That is because voicing such a thing is generally taken as invitation."

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"Yeah, I know." Liam shrugs, leaning against Lucas's shoulder.