A/N: Boy, this is not what I'm used to… Usually, in my fics, the world falls apart around my darlings Adam and Lawrence, but their love stays intact and untainted. But now… Well, let's just say it's more agressive than usually… Hope you still like it!

Different Names For The Same Thing

Lawrence has stopped knocking at this point, he just opens the door, barges in and spots Adam on the couch.

It doesn't really matter, though. He knows he could come here when Adam was in the middle of fucking someone else, Adam would still want him there.

Plus, most of the time, he's so hot by the time he gets here that he doesn't care what Adam does, doesn't care if Adam minds it, doesn't care what Adam says, since he knows that within a few short seconds, Lawrence lips will be on his, his tongues will be entwined in his, and he won't be able to talk, won't want to, either.

And so is the case now, too. Adam lazily looks up when Lawrence strides in, though the carefreeness runs out of his gaze like someone's drained them of it with a needle at the mere sight of Lawrence, and he puts down the beer he's holding on the coffee table.

"What do you want?"

Short voice. Clipped words. Lawrence steps up to the couch, cautious about only letting a hint of a grin be seen in the corner of his mouth.

"I want my usual little piece of ass."

It comes out as a murmur. The voice doesn't sound like his own at all, and he can't help but thinking of something he read somewhere, a draft from a biology book from high school, maybe?

"Inside every wolf, there's a dog's DNA. By this, if wolves would ever die out, it is possible to clone out new ones by putting a fetus with their DNA inside a dog's uterus."

And that might be true. Although, Lawrence thinks when he grabs Adam's collar and pulls him to his feet, that the opposite might be true, too. Inside every dog, there should also be a wolf, a beast with bared teeth and dripping jaws that just waits to leap forward, bury fangs in red meat, tear at it and let blood spray all over it.

Maybe the voice that creeps out of his own now is something that's been hidden in the don't-worry-little-darling-everything-will-be-fine-voice he's used all day at the hospital.

Maybe this is who he really is.

Or maybe it's just who Adam turns him into.

Adam chuckles bitterly and looks up at him.

"Do you now?" He says softly, and he might try to sound indifferent, his hand is still already on Lawrence's chest. "So it's me who's your piece of ass?"

"M-hm," Lawrence says, and his grin gets wider when he sees Adam's annoyance.

"Is that really true, Larry?" Adam says between gritted teeth. "Is it me who comes to your house every damn night looking for a good fuck?"

"I don't know," Lawrence purrs and takes Adam's waist. "Is it me who every night gives you a good fuck?"

Their faces are so close now, so teasing and so craving, the words they say travel straight into the other one's mouth.

Adam grins weakly, too, feels Lawrence's breath on his lips, his hands on his waist, light now, even though he knows that they'll soon be rough, soon there will be nails and teeth and lustful growls, and for some reason, that thought is so arousing that his fingers, completely without his own accord, goes up to a button in Lawrence's shirt, unfastens it so gently, so gently.

Adam doesn't want his fingers to do that. Doesn't want to give in that easily.

Wants Lawrence to beg him for once.

"I've never said I didn't," Adam mumbles, feels his finger brushing against a trace of naked skin. "You are damn hot, after all. So explain to me again why your wife can't do this for you? Are you that bad at fucking girls?"

"You tell me," Lawrence says and lets his hands wander into Adam's shirt and relishes the mix of pain and bliss on Adam's face. "We both know you'll squeal and moan like a fucking girl only seconds from now."

Adam's lips close, the one finger on Lawrence's bare chest is pulled back when his hand clenches into a fist. For some reason, his anger only turns Lawrence on more.

"I hate you."

Adam spits out the words, and even though he doesn't look at Lawrence's face, he knows the grin on it has only gotten wider. Hell, why does he still try to hurt him by saying things like these? He knows what happens then!

Knows that when Lawrence knows how hurt he is, knows that every time he wakes up the next morning and feels the cold, merciless emptiness in his bed even before he opens his eyes, he breaks a little more inside, Lawrence also knows even more about the leverage he has on Adam.

Knows that he can do whatever he wants to him, whatever he wants, and Adam's door will still be unlocked the next time he storms over.

And that's also the point where Lawrence can't take it anymore.

So he lunges forward, his lips are on Adam's, greedy, hungry, and not loving at all, his hands get hard, gripping Adam's waist on the bruises that are already there, nails claw and blood trickles down, and Adam can't fight it, because it feels too good, too fucking good, the pain and the blood and the humiliation are nothing but little tingles on his nerve system, nothing but a boiling warmth that gathers up in his crotch like a burning core, makes it throb and harden.

But Lawrence still pulls away. Even though his blue eyes are black now, black and brilliant with desire.

"Say it again."

"Fuck you," Adam hisses.

"Say it."

"I hate you."

And Lawrence's lips crash onto his again, he kisses him lustingly, and Adam finally lets go of his pride, too, Lawrence feels how something inside his lover snaps, or maybe just melts away in their joint body heat, and he starts pawing at the buttons of Lawrence's shirt, they open up one by one until Adam has a plane of soft, naked skin to roam his hands over, needing, craving, and his head spinning as Lawrence makes a sound that almost seems like a growl when he grabs Adam's collar and pushes him up against the wall, Adam feels his already weak mind being shaken when his head hits the hard material.

Lawrence temporarily lets go of Adam's waist and starts tearing as his shirt, too. Adam helps the best he can even though his fingers seems completely disconnected from his body, and soon, he has to shiver in the cold on his skin before Lawrence is on him again.

He really is like a wolf, a wolf that needs to finish its quarry before it goes insane with hunger.

His lips are on Adam's chest in a heartbeat, kissing, licking, sucking, Adam moans harder than he wants to when Lawrence nips over his ribs, and when he moves his mouth up to his nipple and nibbles there, too, Adam almost whimpers. The high that rushes to his head is indescribable.

Then, Lawrence straightens up. His breathing is fast and hard on Adam's face, and he looks into his eyes for a brief second before he crooks his head and plants a light kiss on the side of Adam's neck. Adam gulps, hopes it's not noticeable, and looks into Lawrence's face when it's right next to his again.

"I want you," Lawrence says.

His voice is a low, intense muttering.

Those three words.

They're all he says.

Then, he takes Adam by the waist again and they fall down on the couch. Lawrence is on top, as usual, Adam feels the hard bulge in his jeans against his thigh, and he's so hard himself that it'll only take him seconds by the time Lawrence enters him, which he doesn't seem to plan to. Instead, Lawrence runs a hand through Adam's hair, looks hazily at him. The TV's still playing next to them, Adam realizes.

"Say it again," Lawrence repeats in a single breath.

Adam is about to tell him to go fuck himself again when he feels wet lips on his neck again.

"I hate you," Adam whispers instead.

The words don't have a good ring to them anymore. They sound more like a plea, but Adam doesn't care. He'll say it over and over if it makes Lawrence happy, if it makes him do something, something…

He'll say it over and over, even though he's never realized how untrue those words are until now.

"I hate you," Adam says again, almost crying it out now. "I hate you… I…"

Lawrence grins again, and his lips travel down, over Adam's neck, lick over his earlobe, and then down, over his chest, his stomach, and Adam repeats it, over and over, like a desperate mantra, even though every jagged, stuttered-out syllable is a knife in his heart at this point.

"I hate you, I hate you…" Adam chants and feels the dull, warm ache between his legs almost becoming physically painful as the warm, moist lips approach his navel. "I… Oh, God, Lawrence…"

And then, he can't talk anymore.

Then, words desert him.

Because Lawrence only hesitates for a moment, lets his tongue play with the trail of hair on Adam's stomach that leads down to that place that Adam thinks will explode if Lawrence stays like this for too long.

Only one moment.

And after that moment, Adam hears the rasping noise of his fly being unzipped and every thought of hate and love floats out of his mind when he feels his boxers being pulled down and those wet lips close around him.

He can only hope that the conclusion he just made will still be there when he comes deep in the back of Lawrence's throat, when Lawrence cuddles up next to him on the couch, cranes his head back and plants a more gentle kiss on his lips, and then falls asleep next to him.

Because it actually wasn't until now that he realized that he and Lawrence love each other.

They love each other, and that's why they have to do this. They're so in love, and they're so scared.

Adam's scared of letting people into his life. Lawrence is scared of leaving his wife and step out, from his own little bubble, from the perfectly safe and deadly cold world he created for himself and be left alone with Adam.

They're scared of leaving their old lives, since they don't know if they can start a new one without screwing it up, without sitting there again with their feet in chains and their efforts in vain.

But that doesn't mean they can stay away from each other.

So they see each other at night, since the night is a crossroad, it's not technically a part of their life since they're not supposed to be conscious at that time, they see each other and tell themselves and each other that it's all for the sex, all for the pleasure that right now makes Adam's eyes roll to the back of his head.

They see each other and find salvation in these encounters. The salvation that they can have all the time, but that's too precious for them to gamble for.

What Adam and Lawrence don't know is that this isn't a way that works in the long run. That the reason they do this indeed is that they can't stay away from each other, that they can't get enough, want more and more.

They don't know that one of these days, they're going to want more. They're going to want to talk, they're going to want to take away that fear of leaving their old lives behind.

They're going to want to change the three most common words they say to each other now into three new words.

And one of these days, they won't be able to fight that urge.

And that's the day when Adam will wake up the next morning and see that his bed isn't empty anymore.

Admittedly, I was half-asleep when I wrote this, but that's me at my best… I hope… Review and let me know!