Chapter 2 - Boy Meets Boy
Chapter note: The chapter title comes from the great online comic Boy
Meets Boy, now sadly "cancelled": http://boymeetsboy.keenspot.com/d/20000922.html
Spike’s eyes fluttered open. He stretched out his body in a feline manner
and let out something between a yawn and a moan. A smile played on his
lips. He never slept as well as after a great shag. Or three. He could
live without the dried bodily fluids though, he thought as he felt a sudden
itch on his thigh. As he turned he noticed to his discontent that Angel
wasn't there. He got out of the bed and made his way towards the indistinct
noises coming from the kitchen.
"Makin' a run for it, luv?" Spike said, leaning back against the doorpost
with crossed arms and a seductive smile
The bright morning sunlight painted Spike's naked body a golden shade,
and he formed an almost comical contrast to Angel, who was dressed in
a suit and currently straightening his tie.
"I've got to prepare for a meeting with a client," Angel said with an
austere expression.
"Really?" Spike said with a husky voice. "Cause I'm pretty damn sure you’ll
have a better time stayin' here, shaggin' me senseless."
"I'm sure I would, but then again, being able to pay the bills is fun
too," Angel said as he walked up to Spike. He leaned his body against
Spike's and started kissing him.
"So, what did you do last night?" Angel said between kisses. "Were you
at a club or something?"
"Hmhm..." Spike murmured into Angel's mouth. "Party.” He felt Angel's
hand starting to caress his thigh and grunted a little.
"So..." Kiss. "Were there any…" Kiss. "Pretty guys there?"
Spike was scrambling for a coherent answer from his lust filled mind.
"Um..." Kiss. "Didn't notice." Angel's hand slid over his upper thigh
and continued over the underside of Spike's increasingly hard cock. Spike
gasped in response and deepened the kiss with growing passion.
"Any pretty girls, then?" Angel continued, letting his hand play lightly
over the sensitive skin.
"Hmmm..." Spike moaned, pushing his naked body against Angel's suit-covered
torso, tangling his fingers in Angel's hair. "Not really..." he mumbled.
"Hot guys like you get noticed." Angel's fingers slid around Spike's hard
member in a firm grip and stroked it slowly a few times. "You know I get
jealous." Spike didn't reply; he just threw back his head and moaned loudly.
Suddenly Angel released his grip and pulled free of Spike's tight embrace.
Spike was breathing heavily, and looked at his lover with confusion. "Hey!
You're just gonna go?"
Angel looked at his watch and grabbed his suitcase. "I told you that I
have work to do."
"But..."
"Have to go. I'll see you later." And then he was out the door.
Spike fell back against the doorpost, rubbing his face with a frustrated
grimace. He looked down at his condition and sighed. "Great. Just great,"
he said as he started walking towards the bathroom.
* * * * * *
Six months earlier.
"Christ, mum, I can't believe you made me come here!" Spike crossed his
arms and sighed.
"I didn't make you, I asked you nicely," Jenny answered, smiling. "You
wouldn't want to miss the opening of your own mother's gallery, would
you?"
"Yeah, whatever." Spike grabbed a tiny food-like item from a nearby tray.
The gallery was filled with well-dressed guests looking at the colorful
paintings on the wall. Serious chatter filled the room, accompanied by
constrained gestures.
"They've all got those really pretentious expressions goin' on, so I'm
guessin' that they like it." Spike took a bite of the pastry, and his
face scrunched up from distaste. "Bloody hell, mum! What is this?"
Jenny chuckled. "Seaweed tarts."
"Eew!" Spike grabbed a plastic glass of champagne and drank it quickly
to get the taste out of his mouth. "Yeah, this night is just getting better
and better." Spike winced. "And I don't even like art."
"Oh, come on," Jenny said, waving to a couple of acquaintances. "Complaining
doesn't make it better."
Out of the corner of his eye, Spike spotted a dark-haired man in a sober
black suit heading their way.
"Oh, hello Angel. Glad you could make it." Jenny reached out and shook
his hand.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," the man said, smiling.
"Spike, this is Angel."
As Spike reached out and shook Angel's hand, dark, intense eyes were suddenly
looking at him, studying him. Something about the other man made Spike
feel confused, a little bit rattled. There was something predatory about
him. Something Spike couldn't shake off. Angel held a firm grip on Spike’s
hand just a little bit longer than what one usually expected. As he let
go, he smiled. "So, you're Jenny's son?"
"Uh..." Spike's strange feeling lingered. "Yeah."
"Angel is the lawyer from Wolfram and Hart who helped me with all that
boring legal stuff for the gallery." Jenny handed Angel a glass, and raised
her own. "To fine art and good finances!"
"To fine art and good finances!" As the glasses went *clink*, Angel caught
Spike's eyes once more.
Spike was starting to feel annoyed with the weird vibes Angel sent off.
"So" he said, crossing his arms. "Angel. What kind of name is that?"
Angel arched a brow. "What kind of name is Spike?" When Spike just glared,
he continued, "Actually, it's Liam. Angel's just a nickname."
"Is that so?" Spike cocked his head.
The brief moment of silence that followed was suddenly broken by a shrill
voice. "Angel? Is that you?" As Angel turned to the middle-aged lady who
called for his attention, Jenny looked over at Spike.
"Let's go and say hi to my investor. Sucking up is good for business,
you know." As she made her way across the room, Spike follow, wondering
what the hell had just happened.
An hour later Spike was standing on the balcony, having a smoke. The warm,
calm summer night had a soothing effect. He could practically feel all
the lingering chatter melting away from his nerves. Hopefully this event
would soon be over so he could get back to his bed and get a good night's
sleep. Art folks couldn't possibly be night people. Could they?
"So, this is where you've been hiding?" At the sound of Angel's voice,
Spike felt his body go instantly tense.
"What's it to you?" Spike blew out a small nicotine-enriched fog, not
bothering to turn around.
Angel walked up next to him and leaned his arms on the railing, looking
out over the city below. "Nice night," he said.
"Well yeah," Spike answered indifferently, inhaling the last dose of unhealthy
substances that the cigarette had to offer.
"You don't like me, do you?" Angel stated.
"I don't know you." Spike put out his cigarette in the ashtray and turned
to go inside again.
Suddenly Angel got up in front of him, placing his hands on the railing
on both sides of Spike before he could get any further.
"Hey, what...?" Spike was completely taken by surprise by Angel's actions.
"But I like you. William." Angel leaned his body close to Spike's, and
looked him firmly in the eyes. A confident smile played on Angel's lips.
"You're a really handsome man. But then again, you probably knew that
already."
For once in his life, Spike was completely at a loss for words.
Angel raised one of his hands and slowly ran his fingers along Spike's
sharply pronounced jaw. "When I see something I like, I get it," he said
with a husky voice. "And I want you."
"Hey! Not interested!" Spike wasn't entirely sure why he didn't punch
the other man in the face, considering that this was practically sexual
harassment. Spike was utterly disturbed to notice that he was blushing.
And even more disturbed to feel that blood was suddenly rushing to other
parts of his body as well.
Angel leaned a little bit closer. His hand trailed down Spike's neck and
stopped on his now heaving chest. Spike stared down at the hand that was
resting on his body. Why the hell did he let Angel do this to him? He
was another man for Christ's sake! He tried to kick-start his cerebral
functions, but his body seemed to have a life of his own. "I'm...I'm straight,"
he finally stuttered.
Angel cocked his head and smile seductively. He pulled out a business
card from the pocket of his suit, and stuck the corner under the waistband
of Spike's pants, briefly sliding it over the muscles of his abdomen in
the process. "When you get over it, call me." And with that he pulled
away from Spike.
Spike was completely flustered. With shaking hands, he pulled up the business
card and stared at it for a moment. "I'm really straight, you know!" he
shouted after the infuriating lawyer, but Angel was already gone.
* * * * * *
Buffy looked at the locker in front of her, which was labeled "Buffy.”
So, this was it, she was actually working here. She sighed. Not that she
wasn't happy to be employed again, and the co-workers seemed to be great
and all, but still... The last club had been her workplace since she had
started in the business several years ago. A new job meant losing the
comfort of knowing exactly how everything worked, but also losing the
day-to-day interaction with the co-workers she had been working with for
so long.
As Buffy pulled off her sweater she heard the door opening behind her.
"Hi Buffy!" Willow said as she entered the locker room. As Buffy turned,
she noticed that Willow was in an unusually good mood.
"Well, don't you look happy today!" Buffy smiled.
"Well..." Willow looked secretive, but it didn't take long for her to
break. "I met a guy at the party yesterday!"
"Ooh! Spill!" Buffy said..
"Well," Willow sat down on one of the benches. "His name is Oz."
"Like the prison series?"
"No," Willow pouted. "Like the Judy Garland movie. So, anyway, he plays
guitar in a band. Isn't that the coolest thing ever?"
"Sure. That and air conditioning." Buffy sat down next to Willow on the
bench.
"He's really adorable and funny!" Willow sounded giddy. "And he's got
such cute technicolour hair. He's sort of cartoony. Oh, but in a sexy
way. Not like a roadrunner."
"Good thing, ‘cause that could be exhausting. So..." Buffy took Willow’s
hands and looked at her, smiling. "Are you two going to go out?"
Willow frowned. "Well, he didn't ask me out. So no, I guess."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Maybe you missed the memo, but this is the 21st
century! Nowadays we girls can vote and own property and stuff. And, by
god, even ask guys out!"
"Not being an anti-feminist here. Just... "
"Ask him!" Buffy put her arm around Willow. "If he's stupid enough to
turn you down, I've got some rocky road in my freezer."
"So, how about you?" Willow said, smiling at Buffy, clearly eager to change
the subject. "What did you do at the party? Met any guys?"
"No, just Spike, our taken co-worker. But he's really nice actually. And
funny. We talked for hours!"
"But platonic talk, right?" Willow's eyes narrowed.
"I don't hit on non-single guys! So yes. Platonic talk!" Buffy looked
grumpy. "And can talking really be non-platonic? Doesn't there at least
have to be an exchange of bodily fluids?"
"How did our discussion end up covering bodily fluids?"
Buffy giggled. "Come on, groupie girl." She got up and tugged on her friend's
hand. "Time to work."
The DJ was testing the lights and the sound, so short bursts of music
and flashing light surrounded them as they entered the bigger room. When
they walked up to the fourth floor, they spotted Spike at the bar, unpacking
straws and those ridiculous little umbrellas. "Hi there girls!" he said
as they got closer.
"Have you recovered from the hangover?" Buffy leaned her forearms at the
bar and raised a brow at Spike.
"It's not like I drank that much anyway." Spike said, smiling.
"Then I guess you're just naturally cheerful." She picked up an umbrella
and twirled it between her fingers.
"Well, that's me. The cheerful guy." Spike said, pulling the umbrella
from Buffy's hand. "You two better get your asses back here, ‘cause we're
openin' in 20 minutes."
Within an hour, the place was filled with people dressed in fancy clothes,
wearing lip gloss, gold necklaces and expensive shoes. The bar where they
were working was located on the top floor, which meant that it was possible
to talk while working without having to shout.
"So, how’s it going?" Willow asked as she reached past Buffy to get a
napkin. "Your first day and all."
"If you’ve seen one bar, you have pretty much seen all of them." Buffy
said as she put some ice in the shaker. "It's like weddings."
"Um, Buffy," Spike whispered. "What's in a snowball? I've only been doin'
this for six months. Keep forgettin' the ingredients."
"Well, you're lucky. I'm practically a drink library. I never forget a
recipe. It's a talent."
Before Buffy could continue, Spike heard a loud, drunken voice behind
him. "Hey you!" As he turned he stood face to face with a beefy, clearly
drunk jock-looking guy, Spike vaguely recognized him as an acquaintance
of one of his co-workers.
"People like you make me sick!" the drunk man slurred.
"I beg your pardon?!" Spike yelled.
"Can't believe that they hire your kind." His voice became louder "Well,
yeah, people like you should be put out of your misery. For everyone's
sake. Shot like dogs!" He pointed his finger furiously at Spike.
Spike felt his face go red from anger, and he took a deep breath to give
the man a piece of his mind, but before he could reply he heard a furious
voice from behind his back. "I don't know what the hell your problem is,
but you better watch it!" Buffy's eyes were flashing with rage. She grabbed
his collar, and pulled him against the bar. "Didn't you mother tell you
that death threats aren't nice?!" The man was completely taken by surprise.
When the shock started to change to anger, he clenched his fists, but
froze when he spotted the guards that were heading his way. "This guy
was threatening Spike. Throw him out, boys."
Without a word, the man let himself be pulled away. If it weren’t for
the music, you would be able to hear the sound of crickets in the crowd.
Spike was impressed. "Thanks, luv."
"Well, assholes bring out combat!Buffy." She reached for a bottle filled
with a yellow substance and handed it to him. "And it's Advocaat and Sprite."
"Huh?"
"Snowball. It's Advocaat and Sprite.
Spike arched his brow at an anxious looking Willow and smiled a little
as he got back to his chores. Buffy sure wasn't like most girls. And he
liked it. He wondered if Buffy had understood what the man was talking
about, but they all got back to work before the issue could come up. He
quietly wondered if she would have been as furious if she had known.
* * * * * *
Buffy sighed and closed her eyes as she had put away the last item and
the bar was clean. "God, silence is really underestimated."
"Definitely," Willow agreed.
They all were silent for a moment. "God, I can't believe that guy!" Willow
suddenly spat out.
"Yeah, and I can't believe you." Spike grinned at Buffy.
"Well, people shouldn't get away with stuff like that." She clenched her
teeth. "It's a personal motto."
"Well thanks, pet, for saving the damsel in distress."
Buffy smiled. "If you want to thank me properly you could always buy me
a burger or something. I'm starving."
"Oh, so standin' up to bullies has a price now?"
"Well, even Rosa Parks had to eat."
"Ok, but no burgers. I'm gonna show you where you can buy the best food
ever."
"Whatever. As long as it's got calories. So, Willow?" Buffy said. "Want
to come?"
"Nope." Willow yawned. "I've left my bed alone for too long. Soon it will
get frustrated and start to hump the other furniture."
"Well in that case, see ya!" Buffy chimed.
"Have fun with the calories!" Willow answered.
* * * * * *
They were standing on a somewhat shabby street a couple of blocks from
the club. "Ok, here it is. The best food in the town," Spike said, pointing
at a small stand on a street corner. Even though it was three in the morning,
there were a few people in line. "Well, and also the only place that's
open at this hour."
Buffy looked doubtful. "And you're sure I'm not going to receive a free
food poisoning with my meal?" she asked as they got in line.
"No," Spike said, smiling. "They charge you extra for that."
Soon it was their turn. "Two falafels, with that spicy sauce," Spike said.
The vendor handed them a couple of huge portions wrapped in napkins.
Buffy took a hesitant bite from the falafel, and her suspicious expression
soon changed to a surprised grin. "You're right. This is great!" She started
chomping away at the falafel.
"Well," Spike said with his mouth full of food. "I told you so."
They walked down the street, towards the water, and sat down at a bench
to finish their meals. Buffy glanced over at Spike. She hesitated for
a moment, then she spoke. "Listen... I know it's not by business or anything.
Just curious... What was that guy talking about?"
Spike tensed up for a moment. "I guess he doesn't like that I fuck blokes,"
he said and resumed the late dinner.
Buffy was surprised. Not that she minded, she had just...assumed that
Willow was talking about a girlfriend. Involuntary images suddenly popped
up in the back of her mind, of a naked Spike, and another man, all tangled
and sweaty and... Ok, no more Queer as Folk for Buffy.
"Well, he's an idiot." Buffy said vehemently. "Whether you're gay or straight
isn't anybody else’s business."
"Glad to hear that, luv. Not everybody agrees with that." Spike wiped
some sauce from the corner of his mouth. "And technically I'm bi." Spike
felt relieved. Usually he couldn't care less what other people thought.
In fact, shocking bigots was kind of a hobby. But if Buffy had turned
out to be one of them, he would have been disappointed.
"Makes sense, I guess." Buffy looked thoughtful. "Kind of stupid to be
all gender biased, I guess."
"I don't think about it too much. It's just the way I am," Spike said.
"Didn't really accept it before though. Angel is my first boyfriend."
Buffy giggled. "Angel?"
"I keep tellin' him, it sounds completely daft!" he said with amused animosity.
"Actually it's his nickname. Ok, on second thought, I don't know if Liam
is any better..." Spike's eyes lit up the moment he mentioned Angel. "We've
been together for six months," he continued, smiling.
"Good for you." Buffy sighed and threw the remains of her falafel in the
trash. "Perhaps that's why it's totally impossible to find a guy in LA.
They’re dating each other."
Spike chuckled.
"Do these things happen often? I mean, people giving you shit for being
bi?" she continued.
"Not really. And those who do can just go and fuck themselves." Spike
swallowed the last of his falafel and tossed the napkins in the trash
can.
"Good attitude," Buffy said.
They sat quiet for a couple of minutes, enjoying the warm summer breeze
and the beautiful night sky. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just
peaceful. Buffy was the first to break the silence. "So, Johnny Depp or
Brad Pitt?"
"Definitely Brad," he stated with confidence.
Leave feedback
Chapter 1 < > Chapter
3 |