Chapter Text
It’s fortunate Adam’s co-worker decides to handle the biker wearing two jackets. He’s not in an overly social mood today, and prefers to stick to shelving away the recent video returns. He’s humming as he squares away all three Basket Case films in order when the bell on the front door jingles. Adam sighs loudly, rallying up a shred of composure to greet whichever customer just strolled in. Two customers in the same hour is like Grand Central Station for this old video store.
When he turns, however, relief washes over him.
It’s Lawrence Gordon, looking charmingly out of place amid the top-seller racks by the front. Yeah, his tweed suit adjacent to the massive poster for Return of the Living Dead clashes pretty noticeably. Adam restrains the smirk crawling up his face so he doesn’t accidentally tip off to his co-worker that he very much knows this man. Let alone is more than pleased to see him here.
He wasn’t exactly honest about being in a Jigsaw trap when he first applied to this job but, well, it’s not as if he lied. They never asked him if he’d been battle-tested by a notorious serial killer.
He also can’t have his co-worker knowing he’s gay.
That’s the real priority here.
Even if this isn’t the type of establishment that ‘would’ discriminate.
So, he makes a point of saying, “Can I help you find anything specific, sir?’ as he closes in on him. A smile twitches on Lawrence’s face, but he’s even better at maintaining his composure when needed.
“Hmm,” Lawrence stalls, glancing over at Adam’s co-worker who is too wrapped up in that nightmare of a customer to notice anything. In a low, nearly imperceptible voice, he says, “Any area in here I could speak with you alone?” Adam does smile then, just a small, indulgent one.
“Oh,” Adam says loudly, infusing a level of ditziness into his tone that should be reserved for those surfer boys who’ve fried all their brain cells in tanning beds. “That would be the pornography, and hey, you’re in luck! We definitely have that one with Katie Morgan sucking off three schlongs at the same time in stock. I’ll take you to the back and show you.”
The humor is wiped off Lawrence’s face in an instant, replaced with mortified dread. Adam’s smile grows wider as he starts walking back towards the register. There’s a section in the back cordoned off by an ugly pink curtain. It takes Lawrence a moment to gather his wits and follow.
“I was hoping more for a breakroom,” Lawrence mutters once they’re inside. “And schlongs? What are you, in grade school?”
Adam flicks on the light and Lawrence winces at the atmosphere. They’re surrounded by lewd covers of VHS tapes and DVDs. Adam is unphased because he’s forced to go in here at least three times a day for their usual suspects. The man with the fake beard, an old lesbian lady, and that bird-tattoo guy. The latter always smells like a fresh can of Red Bull and Axe body spray.
“In this shithole?” Adam laughs. “Unless you wanna go out to the alleyway that smells like piss and other fluids I’d rather not describe…this is your best option. No one’s coming in here until at least four.” Adam waggles his eyebrows at a title that says, Two Men, One Bathroom, No Key.
Lawrence rolls his eyes, tightening his fingers around his cane.
“So, what can I do you for, Larry?” Adam asks, leaning against a shelf in his best effort to come across nonchalant. He’s not sure the intense blush on his cheeks is doing him any favors, though.
They’ve been together for a few weeks now, and he still can’t help the fluttery feelings that arise everytime Lawrence walks into the room. It’s more frustrating than it is cute, Adam would say.
Maybe it’s just because he’s not used to having feelings for anyone.
Attraction, sure. Lust, that’s neither here nor there.
But ‘ feelings’ feelings? He’s not used to that.
Adam doesn’t know how to control it, and Lawrence isn’t helping by surprising him like this at work. Now he’s going to go into work every morning wondering if his hot, doctor boyfriend will be dropping by for an unscheduled visit. It’s exhilarating, frightening. It’s stupidly intoxicating.
Lawrence shifts his weight on his good foot and says, “I’m off work early before a surgery I have later tonight, and I thought…” He glances back at the curtain uneasily, nervous someone might walk in. Adam cocks his head, amused by that. “I might not see you before you head off to bed.”
What an ooey-gooey reason that is very uncharacteristic of this…not so ooey-gooey guy. Not that Adam would claim to be an ooey-gooey guy himself, but hey.
“I’m a night owl, you’ll probably see me.”
“A habit I’m hoping you’ll break, so you can get some genuine rest.”
“So what, that’s your excuse to come drop by my workplace?”
Lawrence winces. “Do I need an excuse?”
Adam breaks, and smiles through the answer, “Nah, not really.”
He’s certainly dropped by Lawrence’s office in the hospital enough times that he can’t count the encounters on two hands. He saunters up to Lawrence and rocks on his heels to get leverage.
At least he comes up with reasons that aren’t your face is cute.
“You are such a romantic, it’s gross. Just coming by to say hey.”
“That’s not why I came by.”
“Yeah?” Adam is a little confused now. “Then—”
Lawrence lurches forward, so quick Adam barely has time to react. He’s clasping Adam’s face with both hands, locking their lips together. The force causes Adam to stumble back a few steps, reaching out to grasp a nearby shelf which is a mistake when it rattles and knocks a few VHS tapes off. Lawrence pulls back, just an inch or so to apologize when Adam says, “Don’t you dare,” and surges right back into him. One of Lawrence’s hands strokes into his hair and pulls.
Adam huffs on his lips, kissing him deeper for that.
He uses what little leverage he has to herd them more towards the center of the small space, away from the treacherously unstable shelves. Lawrence goes without resistance, though his lips remain aggressive in the way they dip against Adam’s like they’re searching for something.
Adam lets himself be kissed and kissed, really kissed, until his knees are about to buckle underneath him. Okay, this is escalating fast. “Lawrence—” he gasps, hips being tugged closer by Lawrence’s hands, full of intent, keeping him upright just enough to move from his mouth to his neck, sucking kisses there hard, never long enough in one spot to leave a mark, but harsh enough to make Adam shiver.
He curls his hands into Larry’s hair, forgetting where he is. Forgetting Lawrence has to walk right out the same door not appearing like he’s been used like a rodeo bull. Though it’s hard to care when he’s…well, hard. Adam moans a little when Lawrence’s teeth flash on his collar bone.
“God, don’t make that noise,” Lawrence hisses.
A shred of insecurity filters through Adam’s sudden onslaught of arousal.
“Sorry,” he stutters, unable to shift backwards, away from him, because of the tight grip Lawrence has on him. Larry shakes his head, lips smacking unevenly as he catches his breath.
“No, I meant, I’m barely keeping myself from jumping your bones as it is.” Lawrence smirks weakly, loosening his grip on Adam’s hair, stroking over the throbbing areas on his scalp.
Adam swallows meekly.
Oh, he likes those noises. Good to know.
“Pretty sure bone-jumping is exactly what’s happening right now,” he rasps in response.
His lips feel tacky with drying saliva.
Lawrence shakes his head, hands curling lower to cup the pert rise of Adam’s ass. “No, no,” he whispers. He grinds Adam against him, forcing him to feel the bulge in his trousers better, causing Adam to bite his lip hard so as to not shake apart. “That’ll be very different from this.”
They haven’t exactly had sex yet. Even their makeout seshes are usually cut short, much to Adam’s chagrin. They’ve both got busy schedules; Lawrence has been back at the hospital, Adam has been struggling for stability in a way he never has. It’s a lot to deal with on top of a new relationship, but neither of them are in a rush for this. And they seem to both like to relish the build up to whatever their intimacies in the future entail. Though it seems like that future is not so far off, and Adam is really not complaining about that. Not in the fucking slightest.
“Now, I’m gonna sound like the romantic, cause there’s nothing more I want than to go to bonetown like, right fucking now, but I don’t think the best place to do that is in a porno den.”
“No, no it’s not.”
Lawrence’s eyes get shifty.
“Is—Were you really planning on—in a breakroom?!”
“Of course not,” Lawrence mutters defensively, pulling back completely. Adam rocks onto his heels, unsteady. He’s surprised at himself for having such trouble coming down from this high.
He’s still panting, eyes a little glazed.
Lawrence always gets him hot under the collar, but it’s still a shock just how much.
Adam’s kissed again, much gentler. Lawrence’s fingers trail down his face, reverent. He’s sending him off with these. Adam doesn’t know where he gets off strolling into his place of work, getting him harder than rocks, then fluttering off like an asshole butterfly or something.
He lets his lips linger on Lawrence’s bottom lip regardless, nudging for more.
Unconsciously, his fingers curl under the hem of his trousers, tugging a little, playfully. He wags his brow, because hey, maybe a blow job wouldn’t be full sex. Maybe that’s allowed in a porno den…
“Enough of that now,” Lawrence whispers, stroking a hand down Adam’s throat. He squeezes once, hard, then releases. It leaves Adam feeling lightheaded despite how fleeting. “I’ll see you tonight, then. We can…bookmark this, yeah?” His eyes are sparkling. Adam can’t look away, and nods very lazily, delayed. Lawrence continues, “Though I wish you’d get some sleep.”
“Sleep? When you’re leaving me hanging like this? You can’t blame me for the way I take care of myself when you’re the number one source of the problem, jerk off,” Adam mumbles.
He squishes Lawrence’s ass once before resigning himself to blue balls for the rest of the night. Lawrence tips his head down at him, slightly condescending.
“You’ll live.”
“Will I?”
“Hush.”
Lawrence adjusts the collar of his shirt, checks his watch, and smiles widely at Adam before he disappears from the little porno den. Absently, Adam watches the pink curtain swish, thinking.
His co-worker gives him an odd look once he emerges five minutes later, blood still buzzing, ears still ringing. He’s not as conscious about it as he normally would be. He doesn’t give a flying fuck, actually. With a small smile, he realizes that he really did find something to live for.
Or at least, a reason to get up in the morning.
Lawrence’s surgery must be running late.
Adam’s starting to reconsider wearing the shiny golden silk underwear that Lawrence bought him a week ago, because they’re not comfortable in the slightest. And if he’s wearing them under the impression that Lawrence will be awake enough after work to fuck him tonight, well.
(Especially when he knows Larry is more of a romantic than him and would want to be able to muster full focus and stamina to have Adam in that way for the first time. Goddamn it, why is that hot.)
Maybe it’s not a great gamble.
He’s about to change them out and just surrender to the cozy bed sheets when he rubs his knuckles against his cock incidentally. The feeling of the silk against his semi-hard shaft sends rippling pleasure through his pelvis, and fuck, oh shit, he really hasn’t masturbated in weeks.
Sleeping in the same bed as Lawrence is the reason, and he hadn’t realized how pent up he’s been because of it until right this instant. This fabric is good for one thing apparently, he muses, as he rubs himself without aim over the briefs. He hardens steadily, using his thumb and forefinger to trace the shape of himself, breath hitching over every pass of the tip. Closing his eyes, he imagines it’s Lawrence’s meticulous, dexterous hands touching him, getting him to that sweet spot, and he chokes on a quiet moan. He’s so whipped because how the hell is he this desperate for someone he’s already dating, someone he doesn’t even have to chase anymore.
Not that there was ever a chase to begin with.
They sort of fell into each other the second they were alone and not chained several feet apart.
“Fuck,” he utters, slipping his hand underneath fabric to touch his overheated skin.
There’s that stupid throb of arousal he gets anytime he remembers those wretched chains which is so fucked up because he should have adapted trauma not some weird, warped kink about them.
The thoughts drift to imagining Larry holding his arms down above his head, keeping him pinned, restrained. Adam slaps his free hand over his mouth to muffle his embarrassing groan.
It’s not long before he’s making a mess of the new cloth.
His hips jump up from the bed as his whole body locks up in pleasure.
“Lawrence,” he keeps murmuring, pelvis gyrating with aftershocks. “Holy shit.” After a few beats, when his brain starts to settle he adds, “Oh God, I am so royally screwed.”
That was what. Just thirty seconds?
The second Lawrence’s soft hands touch his skin, he’s toast.
His train of thought doesn’t reach far beyond that, in fact, he’s not too sure when he drifts off. But he wakes up the next morning, hand still down his pants, and with Lawrence reading a book against the headboard, trying to hide a smile behind the yellowed pages.
Adam stiffens, humiliation soaking him through with a cold sweat.
He doesn’t move his hand, in some awkward attempt not to call attention to the fact he’s still cupping his own cock, dried with come. He glances down discreetly to see the boxers are blatantly ruined. There is absolutely no way of getting out of this one without Lawrence figuring it out. He already has, by the looks of it.
Adam peels his hand out of his pants, stretching his fingers a bit.
“So…”
“Surgery went late last night,” Lawrence says, glancing over him. “Seems you got impatient.”
Adam is redder than a tomato.
“Well, it just sort of happened, then I kind of…”
“Hmm?”
“Whatever, man. Fuck you.”
“I was hoping to fuck you, but seems you wore yourself out pretty quickly there. Perhaps a rain check.” Lawrence sets aside his book and rolls over on top of Adam in a rare display of sweet, unbridled affection, and kisses Adam’s neck gently. Leaving a trail of them in one small spot.
After a beat, Larry murmurs, “Whatever will I do with you.”
Adam squirms, still too embarrassed to truly accept it.
“I was gonna clean up,” Adam complains lightly.
“Mhm. Sure.”
“I was!”
Lawrence scoops him closer, kissing his pouting mouth with a smile.
Adam melts at that, and the ordeal is forgotten.