A/N: The planets are reorganized, hell has frozen over and the world has come to an end: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, (probably mostly ladies) WE HAVE A SEX SCENE! Read and enjoy, or… Read and get horribly offended. Either way works for us. XD

5: My Little Decoy

Lawrence looks at the boy in front of him. He can't really be described as anything but a boy, even though it's hard to pinpoint an actual age. His eyes are observant and dark like those of an adult, but his body looks young, lean on the brink of malnourished. Like he'd break if Lawrence pushed him too hard.

So how hard are you going to push him?

An evil little voice in the back of his mind. Lawrence slaps the thought away, even though he knows on some level that it is a very relevant question. It's clear just by the way he feels when he looks at the boy.

Still nervous, of course. But still an excitement that's not only on the level finally I'm going to feel something, but rather…

Finally I'm going to control something.

The monster that used to be inside him. It's moving forward in a speed that terrifies him.

"…Hey," Lawrence says in a strained exhale.

The boy smirks venomously and takes another drag on his cigarette.

"Hello, sir," he says with the same sarcastic politeness as the boy Lawrence asked where to find him. "How may I assist you?"

Lawrence looks down, tries to make it seem casual.

"I think you know how."

"Well, I can never be sure…" the boy says and eyes the top of his cigarette, like it's way more interesting than the boring guy trying to get permission to fuck him. "Some guys come in looking normal, like you, and then as soon as their pants come off they want me to whip them or act like a dog…"

He says it completely without humor. Lawrence sighs, sick of the games. Or, rather, the monster is.

"What's your name?" he asks curtly.

The boy looks at him now, hearing the new determination in his voice.

"Adam."

"Adam," Lawrence says. "I want nothing uncommon. I want to… Have sex with you. That is all. But first, I want to know some stuff."

"Ask," Adam says, almost sweetly.

"How old are you?"

Adam takes another drag. The blue smoke rises to the sky.

"Fifteen."

"And you're… Clean?"

"Define 'clean,'" Adam says.

"Are you on drugs?"

"Nope."

"And you haven't caught anything? You've gotten tested?"

"We get tested every month," Adam says. His eyes, that had almost become soft at Lawrence's apparent insecurity, now shoot back to his face looking strict, almost like a teacher correcting a student. "But if you think you can stick anything in me without a condom, go find someone else."

Lawrence nods, and hates himself when he feels sweat gathering on his upper lip. For God's sake, stay calm…

The little part of himself that's still Lawrence, rather than this monster he'd tried to suppress all along, listens. Unfortunately, that's a way too small part of him right now.

Adam looks at him again as he drops the cigarette. The orange glow dies out when it hits the ground, soaks in the dirty water that gathers between the paving stone.

"You done?" he says. "Because I figured it'd be my time to tell you a few things now."

Lawrence nods again. Grab him and fuck him right now.

"Sure."

Adam leans forward on the dumpster.

"I charge one hundred bucks per cumming," Adam says, very businesslike. "Whether it's mine or yours. And we've already got the condom-part covered, but just to be clear: Condom. Stays. On. At all times."

He locks eyes with Lawrence when he says this. Bright grey shining in the light of the stars. Kiss him. Make his lips bleed.

"Other than that," Adam goes on, and leans back again, "I know you said you wanted nothing weird, but again, just to be clear: If you're going to hit me or bite me or whatever, don't do anything to my face. I have to look exactly this pretty," he says and circles his own face with his finger, "when you get out of here. Okay?"

Lawrence nods again.

Or is he still him? None of the thoughts circling through his head are things the Lawrence he knows would think.

"Yeah, I get it."

That's all he manages to get out. When he grabs Adam's collar and forces their lips together, sucking in any inch of his warmth and his tobacco taste and his beautiful, beautiful poison, it doesn't even feel like it's him doing it.

The monster has taken over all together now.

Adam flinches when Lawrence grabs him, but opens his mouth out of reflex. Lawrence, bigger and stronger, easily dominates the kiss, pressing Adam back up against the trashcans, they rattle underneath him. He shoves his tongue deep into Adam's mouth, maintain one hand twisted into his collar but puts the other one on his cheek. Adam's hands are still raised, hanging in the air, almost like in defense.

They break apart for a second to catch breath, and Adam grins. Lawrence doesn't care. He just wants to keep kissing him.

And kiss him and kiss him and fuck him and…

"Whoa," Adam mumbles hotly, his lips brushing against Lawrence's when he speaks. "Eager, are we?"

Lawrence tries not to look into his eyes. The fingers that are still on his face scrape softly over his skin; he can't remember the last time he felt a desire like this to touch someone.

"Just… Let me do this, okay?" Lawrence says, and damn, his voice is already trembling. He's supposed to be the one in control in this situation, damn it…

Before Adam manages to come up with some witty response - after just knowing him for about fifteen minutes, Lawrence has no doubt that he'd have one - Lawrence presses their lips together again, and this time, Adam at least has the decency to respond, parting his lips a little and hesitatingly bringing his hands to Lawrence's shoulders. And Lawrence, maybe just because he's never slept with a hooker before, or maybe just because it's what he really wants to believe, is sure that this means that he's in control again, that Adam wants him for real and he can play him however he likes.

But as Adam opens his mouth further and Lawrence's tongue again can explore the inviting, hidden caverns beyond, he can't help but thinking that it'd be easier to be in control if he hadn't been so… Lost in this fiery kiss.

If he hadn't felt his control slipping away with every little tingle he felt on his tongue, every new stroke of his hands against Adam's skin, because this kind of excitement doesn't allow control, the kind of clinical, surgical manners he's used to.

Lawrence is getting bolder with where he touches, and Adam seems to get swept up in it bit by bit, too. His hands go from Lawrence's shoulders to his face, and when Lawrence's hands travel down over his chest to feel more of his body, he releases a subconscious grunt and parts his legs a little, opens up to him.

This is nice, Adam thinks. He's always been good at letting his mind wander when he does these things. Maybe not too hygienic… But…

Matt had always told him that he should do everything the johns ask him too, no matter how sick it might seem, but one thing he should never allow is kissing on the mouth. Adam listens to him in most cases, and most guys that come here don't want to kiss, anyway, but this…

It's not like I'm going to catch something, Adam ponders on as he feels how Lawrence's arousal starts growing against his inner thigh. He has a ring, so he's married, and this is clearly his first time, or he wouldn't be so nervous.

Lawrence is good. And Adam loves kissing. He tends to forget that, since again, he doesn't get much of it, but when Lawrence puts one hand on the back of his head, pressing them even further together, his taste fills Adam inside out, Starbucks latte and sweet saliva makes him hot and wobbly and it feels like he could literally do this forever.

Lawrence, feeling Adam's tough exterior melting away, figures out right away how he can use this to his advantage, and he slides one hand into Adam's filthy t-shirt, releasing a shaky groan. Sure, his own control is slipping bit by bit, but so is Adam's. He can definitely use this.

You shouldn't. You shouldn't take advantage of him this way. Sure, you have sadistic fantasies and you need to take them out on someone, but he's just a kid. It's not his fault, and he's weaker than you, you should…

Finally tuning out to whatever annoying morals he had left, Lawrence grabs Adam's collar again and pushes him roughly against the cold brick wall next to them, Adam gasps weakly before Lawrence covers his mouth with his own again, and that little voice, that probably was the one thing keeping him reasonable, is gone.

"Jeez…" Adam whispers between kisses. He's finally sounding a little afraid.

Lawrence should be sickened by how much that thought pleases him, but of course, he isn't.

The monster inside him is snickering in contentment. And Lawrence doesn't care that he's spent so many years trying to fight that monster, because god, it just feels so good…

Lawrence leaves Adam's lips to plant semi-aggressive kisses and nips over his neck, feeling Adam hardening more rapidly, and now that his moans and timid gasps aren't even muffled by Lawrence's mouth, Lawrence's erection forms quicker, too. He knows that it should be Adam pleasuring him - he is the one paying, after all - but he thinks this is better than anything Adam could do to him. Feeling the slender body beneath him tremble with anticipation.

His hands travel down Adam's body, lingering at the places he knows will drive him insane, before stopping by the rim of his jeans, feeling Adam's breath catch beneath his lips as he delicately slides his hand into his boxers, slowly stroking his erection, making Adam's head fall back against the wall.

"H-hey," Adam chokes out when he's come to his senses. "Shouldn't I be the one to… God…"

Lawrence grins, if you can call it that. His face is making an expression he didn't even know he could.

Sadistic and emotionless.

Because he's been that way inside all along.

"Adam," Lawrence breathes, nuzzling against Adam's neck, finding a good spot behind his ear where he leaves a flushed hickie and causes Adam to moan again. "I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, right?"

Adam swallows, opens his eyes again to look at him. When they lock eyes, Lawrence sees it. Adam has no doubt in mind that Lawrence is going to hurt him, which is good. Good.

"Y-Yeah," Adam says, and squeezes his eyes shut again when Lawrence strokes his cock again, slowly. "Of course. I just thought…"

"Don't think," Lawrence cuts him off and puts his lips to his neck again. "Just enjoy it."

Adam nods, feels the lust throbbing in every nerve despite the cold sense of dread beneath it all.

There's something in Lawrence's eyes, an undertone in his voice, that makes Adam sure that this night, he's going to come home with bruises. Or worse.

But when Lawrence keeps kissing him, warm, wet lips on every trace of his neck and strokes him until Adam is trembling and pushing against his hand, he really can't bring himself to care.

Truth is, it's been so long since a costumer made him feel like this, he'd probably moan this way even if he'd been Jack the Ripper. And Lawrence must feel this somehow, or Adam's just shuddering more than he can register himself in this state, because Adam feels the skin on his neck where Lawrence is working crease as he smirks in triumph.

Lawrence pulls his face from Adam's neck to look at his face. He has to tip Adam's head back from where it's slumped against his chest, and when he finds Adam's gaze, it's hazy with lust and his fingers clench into Lawrence's jacket like it's with his final strength that he holds onto him.

Lawrence is so aroused that he can barely think straight. Let alone fight, or even be ashamed of, the monster he's turning into.

Lawrence takes his hand from Adam's waist for a second to make a fist, and then punch him unceremoniously in the gut. No need to break the no-face-punch-rule. This unexpected attack catches Adam by surprise, and he makes a tortured face as he bends over.

"Christ…" he coughs out and squeezes his eyes shut, struggling for breath.

He stubbornly keeps his eyes on the ground as he straightens up again. So desperate to not let Lawrence know he's hurt him. Lawrence has never wanted to fuck anyone this bad in his entire life.

Do worse things to him.

Lawrence turns Adam around, takes his condom out of his pocket and unbuckles his belt.

"Pull your pants down," he hisses in his ear, and feels the tiny body go rigid, then limp. With fear, or arousal. Probably both.

Make him even harder. Then take a knife and cut a pattern across his skin.

As Adam starts to unzip his fly with trembling hands and Lawrence struggles to get the condom on fast enough, he bends down, clamps his lips on Adam's shoulder and bites down, hard. Adam gasps in surprise, arches back slightly, and Lawrence uses this moment to force his erection into him and draw out an even sharper gasp.

And now he's squirming beneath you. You feel it? Feels good, doesn't it?

Lawrence's head rolls forward as he pulls out of Adam and thrusts into him again. He groans into his lover's shoulder before he comes to his senses, straightens up. Adam's put both hands on the wall in front of them to brace himself against the next thrust.

Hit him again.

No.

Lawrence puts his hands on Adam's waist, beneath his shirt. His skin is so soft, he wants to claw his nails all over him, give him scars. Make Adam as ruined and tainted as he feels.

Adam grits his teeth and bites back a groan as Lawrence thrusts into him again, gradually strengthening as he gains confidence. He feels the breath on his neck, hot as the devil's, and right below his navel, where all the anxious nerves and tendons seems to gather to a knot, Lawrence puts his hand to push Adam closer to him before he sneaks it down and strokes the throbbing erection, and Adam's moan is music to his ears, it's like scratching that mosquito bite so hard that it starts to bleed after spending hours trying to ignore the itching.

The cold of his wedding ring against his skin. Adam doesn't know why he's scared.

It's that look in Lawrence's eyes. He feels it, even without looking at him. And despite this, the pleasure's building up until it becomes unbearable and explodes into Lawrence's waiting hand.

Lawrence keeps fucking Adam, as fast and hard as he possibly can, can't come soon enough. The monster is anxiously waiting for that moment when Adam cries out and arches up against him, and when it comes, it relishes it, licks with its venomous tongue over Adam's neck, Lawrence gives in to so many of his sick urge he's ever had this night, but still fights some of the worst ones.

Hit him again.

Adam's dropped his head, like his every muscle is too drained to hold it up.

Do it. Hit him. Kick him. Clamp your teeth around his ear and bite it off.

Lawrence grabs a handful of Adam's dark hair, and when his own orgasm blows him up into a million tiny pieces, he yanks Adam's head back, and when Adam screams out loud in agony, to Lawrence, it's like putting his finger in the wound of the mosquito bite and twist it with your fingernail.

They stay like that for a while, panting. When Lawrence pulls out of Adam and lets go of him, he tries to ignore how much colder he feels. Adam leans both hands against the trashcans in front of him, dropping his head again. He still hasn't pulled his pants up, and his with his over-sized t-shirt hanging loosely, so low that it covers half of his thighs, he looks more vulnerable than ever.

Lawrence takes the condom off, throws it onto the ground and lets it join all the other ones that have probably been inside Adam, in this very alley. Then he zips up, and looks at Adam again. It's quiet between them. Or as quiet as it can get in New York City, at least.

"Adam," Lawrence says.

Adam flinches at the mere mention of his name. And still doesn't turn around.

"Please don't hurt me."

So quietly that Lawrence can barely hear him, but still so sincere. Lawrence feels a soft chill of excitement that he's actually managed to scare him. It would've been enough to make him hard again, if he hadn't been so drained.

"Why would I hurt you?" he says with a small smile, well aware what his tone implies.

I want to hurt you. I'm going to. Soon.

He takes a step closer to Adam. Just that makes him even more rigid. When Lawrence puts his hand on Adam's shoulder, for no other reason than to torture him, Adam jumps, turns around and stumbles away from Lawrence, still with his pants around his ankles, so desperately that the trashcan rattle beneath him. Lawrence smiles widely, more sincere than he's smiled in a long, long time.

He's scared.

Hit him again.

Adam's trembling. He won't even notice it until about fifteen minutes from now.

"Please," he demands, he pleads. "Just leave the money and get out of here, okay?"

Lawrence's smile grows even wider.

He takes a step closer to Adam. Another. Time seems to stand still. The moon shines down on them and Adam's going to die right now, Lawrence is going to kill him.

When Lawrence is merely inches away and Adam's trembling so hard that he can barely stay on the trashcan, Lawrence sticks his hand into his pocket. When he takes it out, it's packed with bills.

"One for your climax," he says, and folds one of the bills out of the stack. "One for mine. And one just because you're my favorite little boy."

Adam's gaze is frozen on his face. It takes him a second before he remembers that he's supposed to take the money. When he's reached out a shaky hand and grabbed them, Lawrence smirks again.

"Sweetness," he says with fake adore, grabs the flesh of Adam's cheek between two fingers and shakes it roughly. "I'll see you again, Adam. Soon."

Then he turns around and leaves, and Adam stays behind. Not being able to think of anything. Other than the fact that he still hasn't pulled up his pants, he's scared of what Matt will say, and that he still feels watched, even when Lawrence has turned the corner and he can't see him anymore.