Backup: final chapter and epilogue
I made the executive decision to post the final chapter and the epilogue together, so this is the last posting of the Won't Back Down / Backup saga. thanks to Jan for giving this a look-see for me. I hope you guys enjoy it...tried to wrap everything with a pretty little bow.
Title: Backup: the Won’t Back Down sequel
Author: Mel (btvslover82)
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: NC-17 slash, some het elements but no more than PG-13
Summary: teen human AU sequel to WBD, the boys learn how to be men and face the world together. Um, some less pretty things are gonna happen here. I’m just sayin’.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss and ME...alas, alack.
Feedback: please :)
Won’t Back Down and related ficlets are here
banner by the lovely sueworld2003
Chapter 16
“What’s this?”
Angel looked away from the tv up to where Spike stood beside the sofa, holding the envelope from UCSD that he’d found in Angel’s room. The unopened white envelope.
Angel flushed guiltily.
“Where did you get that?”
“Brood room. Care to explain what it was doing there, unopened?”
Angel frowned at him pissily, but Spike had his number.
“That’s supposed to be my own private place. What the hell is the point if you’re going to go in there and rifle through my things?”
Spike smirked. “It was sitting out on the table. No rifling required. Pickin’ a fight’s not gonna work on me, luv. Postmark’s two weeks old. Why haven’t you opened it yet?”
Angel sighed and slumped down on the sofa, staring at the television.
“Angel-”
“It’s thin.”
Spike stared at him. Angel may as well have just spoken Swahili, for all the sense it made to him. He looked at the envelope in his hand and frowned. “Right. I can see that. But you haven’t opened it.”
There was another heavy sigh, followed by a scowl. “A thin envelope means I didn’t get in.”
Spike looked at the offending piece of mail, and then back at his boyfriend. “Riiiiight. See, but you don’t know that, because you haven’t opened it. And the only reason I was in your room in the first place is because another came in the mail today.”
He waved the second envelope to illustrate. Angel looked at him as though he’d just flung dog shit in his face.
“They probably just want to rub it in.”
Spike goggled at him. He was off his nut. “You’re off your nut. Open the damn things.”
“I don’t want to. I know what they say.”
“You stubborn arse. So you’re a coward as well as daft, is that the way of it?”
Angel just clenched his jaw. Spike rolled his eyes and ripped into the first letter.
“Hey! It’s a federal offense to tamper with someone else’s mail, asshole.”
Spike cocked a brow, drawing the letter from its envelope. “I’ll show you federal offense if you don’t stop being such a flaming idiot.”
Angel sat up straight as Spike began to read.. He was clearly interested, so Spike made no expression as he scanned the first letter. He folded it and tore into the second.
“Hey! What did it say?”
Spike mocked him in falsetto. “‘But Spike, I know what it says, because I’m bloody psychic in addition to being remarkably well-hung.’”
He dodged when Angel came after him, reading the second piece of mail on the run. When he wheeled around, it brought Angel up short.
Spike schooled his features into an expression of sincere apology. “I’m sorry, pet.”
The smile died on Angel’s face, corners tipping down. “Sorry?”
“Mmmhhhmmm. For the fact that the people at the uni are stupid bastards, who don’t recognize a good thing when they see it.”
Angel planted his butt on the armrest of the couch. “Oh. See, I told you-”
“Have to be daft not to give you a full scholarship.”
“-they’d never let me in, not with my….” Angel froze and looked up. “What?”
“Well, see, it says here, they’re giving you $5,000 a year on account of what a poor bastard you are, though they clearly don’t know that you have a right handsome sugar d-”
“No. What. I’m in?”
“Yes, Liam, you ponce, you’re officially invited to work your arse off for four years for no pay. Practically indentured servitude. Should be illegal.”
“But. It was thin!”
Spike laughed in disbelief. He was in love with the doziest tosser on the face of the earth. “Yeah. Well I’m sure you’ll get your big damn envelope when all the other little eggheads get theirs. You applied early, you wanker.”
By Angel’s expression, it was clear that hadn’t occurred to him. Angel might be uni-bound, but sometimes Spike swore he was the only one that did the thinking around here.
Spike tossed the letters onto the end table. “I say this calls for a celebration. Hot tub would feel cozy on a day like today, hmmm?”
Angel’s eyes shifted away from the papers lying on the table, interest piqued. “Hot tub?”
“Mmhhhhmmmmm. Got it all warmed up for us and everything.” Spike was still a little revved from their earlier chase. He gave Angel a sly grin. “First one in gets to top!”
Spike spun on his heel and took off through the house towards the backyard, shedding clothing as he sprinted towards the grand prize.
A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Angel, strolling slowly after with a big smile on his face.
~*~*~*~
Angel’s stomach hurt.
He had been sitting in the driveway indecisively for 45 minutes. The engine of the DeSoto was cold now, silent, and the chill of the late February air had seeped into the old car, brushing icy fingers against his thin California coat.
He shuddered a little. He should either go inside, or drive away. He just couldn’t settle on which….
He hadn’t been back to the trailer since that day. Angel knew Spike had, to collect the Plymouth, and to accompany Thomas in getting the guardianship paperwork squared away-to ask Angel’s parents to sign away their rights to him. It had only hurt a little when they’d had no trouble convincing them. It was hardly the first time Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor had denounced him as family. Just made it official, finally.
Angel chewed on his lip and flexed his fingers on the wheel. They were starting to get stiff with the cold. Go, or stay. Go, or stay. God this place was a hovel. Not just for what it was, but for how they kept it. Or rather, didn’t. It was falling apart around them, and he could see where the insulation was bad, heat leaking out so his mother was probably sick again….
Angel sighed at himself and rubbed the pads of his fingers into his eyes. Not his problem. If she hadn’t left Mike by now, she was never going to. If she ever did, maybe then Angel could help her find someplace better.
But he wasn’t going to hold his breath.
But that’s not why he was here. He was here because he couldn’t sleep at night, thinking how proud she’d be of him. Her little boy, a college-bound man. Susan O’Connor had always been a little baffled by her son, but she’d always been proud of him for working so hard. In a vague kind of way. When she paid attention to him.
And if Angel wanted to rub it in Mike’s face a little bit. Well…he deserved that much.
Gut knotting from anxiety, he pulled the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car. His knock was met with a squawk of raised voices for a moment, and then the door swung open to reveal his mother. She looked tired.
Her eyes rounded when she saw him. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she stepped outside and shut the door even though her nightgown was too thin for the weather. That paled in comparison to the importance of shielding him, or herself, from Mike’s wrath.
Her voice was hushed. “Liam, baby, what are you doing here? You didn’t get yourself kicked out of that boy’s place did you? Because if you did-you’ll just have to find something else, Mike would-”
Angel huffed out a self-deprecating laugh at the greeting. It was the first time she’d seen him in nearly nine months. “Hey, mom. Good to see you, too.”
His mother’s face softened. “It is, baby. Been too long. You’ve grown.” She ran proprietary hands down his sides, and Angel couldn’t stop himself from pulling her in for a hug. She smelled like stale cigarettes, and when he didn’t let go right away, she wrapped her arms tight around his waist. “You’ve filled out, honey. Not all skin and bones anymore.”
His throat was tight, and he pulled away. “Yeah. Well there’s always money for groceries, now.”
She looked as though he’d slapped her. “We kept you fed, don’t act like we didn’t! You were just always growing so fast, shootin’ up like a beanpole, was all….”
Right. That was all. For a joyous reunion, this put a familiar ache in his chest, and suddenly he just wanted to get it over with and flee.
“Look, I just came by because I have good news.” She was looking up at him, waiting, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. “I got into college. UCSD, for Business.”
His mother’s face lit up. “Really? Baby, that’s great. Always knew you were too smart for us, always workin’ so hard-”
When the door to the trailer suddenly creaked open, Angel steeled himself against the way that his mother flinched. Mike squinted out into the gray, overcast light of the winter day. His eyes focused blearily on Angel, then wandered off towards the car.
“What are you doing here?”
Angel’s jaw clenched, but he felt a little shaky inside. “I came to see mom.”
Mike’s eyes flicked over to Susan with casual distaste. “Don’t know why, she’s nothin’ to look at. Where’s your little boyfriend?”
He forced himself to smirk. “At home. I didn’t want him to beat the living hell out of you again. Gets expensive in legal fees.”
Angel’s heart buoyed a little at the look on Mike’s face-incensed at the reminder that he’d been bested by a fag.
Mike was a coward. And an asshole.
“Well, you saw her. You can go now.”
As Mike turned in the doorway, poised to slink back inside where it was dark, Angel wasn’t sure what came over him. He just blurted it out. “I’m going to college.”
Mike turned back and regarded him unpleasantly. “Well I’m sure as hell not paying for it.”
Angel’s face hardened. “I wasn’t asking. I got a scholarship. Part of it’s for academics.” A little pride slipped into his voice-he’d earned that money. It wasn’t all charity.
Angel held his breath as Mike gave him a long look. “Yeah, well…I guess they’ll take anybody at those places these days.” And with that, the door banged shut.
Angel was staring at it so hard that he jumped when his mother brushed her hand along his arm. “Sweetie-you better go.”
He tried to shake off the bad feeling inside. “Yeah. I’d better.”
“Take care of yourself. I’m real proud.” One more pat on the arm, and she was gone.
Angel stood on the unkempt lawn for a long time after she’d gone in. It was no news flash to him, how they were. To each other. To him. He’d never expected any differently….
Except he guessed he had, this time. Family was a funny thing.
Angel took a deep breath and tried to let go of the disappointment. He got it now. He’d never get anything else from them. It didn’t matter how successful he was-how smart, how good. He’d always be second-best to his mother, and Mike was always going to treat him like dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.
He was a little surprised to find peace in that. He was done with them. There was nothing more to do, here.
He turned around and got in the car, and his eyes never ticked to the rearview as he drove away. Kept his nose pointed home.
~*~*~*~
Angel found Spike in the kitchen, fixing himself some kind of horrible nacho concoction that gave Angel indigestion just to look at.
He snagged a chip from its chili-cheese nest. Gross, but tasty.
“Hey, luv. Where did you run off to this afternoon?”
Angel shrugged, not wanting to get into it. He was sure he’d tell Spike later, when his feelings were a little less bruised.
“I had some business to take care of.”
Spike looked at him a little too long, then arched a brow. “Business, eh? That sounds mysterious. Sellin’ yourself into the sex trade, then?”
Angel smiled a little. “Figured it would be a good way to cover the gaps in my budget. I hear I’m a ‘brilliant shag.’ I can go for hours.”
Spike smirked. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
They both snickered. Spike hopped up on the counter and pulled Angel in between his legs.
“Well. Seems to me you’re not ready to whore yourself out just yet.”
“I’m not?” Angel wrapped his arms around Spike, reeling him closer to the edge of the counter.
The blunt tips of Spike’s fingers combed against his scalp. “Not quite. You lack a certain professional quality. Still an amateur. I might have to tutor you.”
Angel laughed, caught off guard at the sound. He pressed in close, chuckling into the bend of Spike’s neck. The scent of cigarettes clung to blond hair, but under it Spike smelled clean. Like soap and aftershave and home.
Angel’s laughter died out, and he surprised them both by clinging a little too hard. His eyes stung.
Spike paused. Then his arms wrapped around Angel tighter, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of his head as Angel buried his face in Spike’s throat. Spike’s fingers stroked through his hair, soothing until something in his gut loosened and the tears receded back where they came from.
He had Spike. He had his future ahead of him, all shiny and laid out. He didn’t need them.
God, he was a ponce.
“There, there, pet,” Spike soothed, after Angel had relaxed into him. “No need to be sad. Not as though your career isn’t salvageable. We’ll practice a lot, and you’ll be hiring yourself out for dosh in no time.”
Angel choked back a laugh, greatful that Spike wasn’t asking questions. Not yet, anyway. He was just…being Spike. His Spike.
And Angel felt like this thing between them was actually going to work. God help them all.
~*~*~*~*~
Epilogue.
No matter how many times he told Oz to bloody step on it, the git would never drive any faster, but it didn’t stop Spike from trying. The closer they got to Sunnydale, the antsier he became.
You’d think he’d be used to this by now. These days they toured two weeks on, two weeks off. He was fine when they were busy playing sets up and down the California coast, busy with the business of making music, but once they hit Oxnard…Spike’s pants were on fire. Almost literally.
It was one of the many reasons the Dingoes had turned down the money men from the national scene. Lindsey had grabbed the opportunity with both hands and buggered off, but Spike and Oz had roots.
Spike had always dreamed of the limelight, but it wasn’t worth Liam.
They’d talked it over when the whole thing arose, but when it came down to it, the lifestyle of a national tour didn’t suit. Oz had a family to look after, and Spike had his sobriety. Even on the regional circuits, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t come close to slipping too many times to count.
Angel was well accustomed to phone calls at 3am.
So they’d gotten another front man and kept on as they were, though they pulled more money now and packed all the houses. Maybe Spike had mellowed in his old age, but it didn’t make any sense to mess with a good thing. It’s not as though they needed the money, any of them. Angel would be made a partner at the shop any day now, and Spike had his inheritance. Willow made a pretty penny doing…whatever the bloody hell it was that she did with computers.
As soon as the van pulled up to the apartment building, Spike was out and hefting his bag over his shoulder.
He heard Oz laughing at him as he took the stairs two at a time.
“See ya later, man.” Spike waved him off without looking.
But he slowed as he approached the door. Angel still made fun of him for the last time he’d dashed in and tackled him to the carpet.
He dropped his bag inside the door of their little place and followed the cooking sounds into the kitchen. Angel was stirring something at the stove, and smiled large when he looked over his shoulder and saw Spike standing there.
“Oh good, you’re home. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Spike inhaled theatrically. “The love of my life-barefoot in the kitchen, bun in the oven-life is good.”
Angel bit back a grin. “No bun. Just garlic bread.”
They shared a brief greeting kiss and Spike wrapped him up from behind, looking over his shoulder at what was cooking.
“Smells delicious.”
Angel gave him an amused look. “You know, when you bury your nose in my shoulder, I’m pretty sure you’re smelling soap and not pasta sauce.”
Spike waggled his eyebrows. “Smells delicious.” He kissed the side of Angel’s neck, hand creeping down his bare chest towards the worn pair of jeans. “Missed you, pet,” he lilted.
Angel sighed. “Why is it that you always miss me when it means I’m going to burn supper.”
Spike just made a noise of sympathy for Angel’s plight, and reached around to snap off the burners and the oven. Spike turned him and pressed him against the counter and gave him a proper hello. Angel’s scruffy facial hair was tickling. It was hardly more than 5 o’clock shadow for Angel. Spike still couldn’t grow a whisker to save his life.
“You really can’t wait till after dinner?” Angel grumbled when they finally eased apart. He still had a firm grip on Spike’s arse.
“You know me better, luv. Tell you what though-since I’m a bad, rude man, you can top.”
Angel grinned. “Now you’re talkin’.” When he caught Spike’s ear between his teeth, Spike felt a wash of warmth and laughed.
“Thought you’d see my way of it. Off to the bedroom with us, since you’re such a poof.”
“There’s nothing poofy about hurting my back at work. I have a very manly job, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re a hunk o burning love.”
Angel looked over his shoulder as he passed into the bedroom, eyes flicking down to Spike’s crotch. “I must be, to have you this hot for me.”
Spike snorted. “It’s a pity fuck. I feel bad that you’re an invalid.”
Angel eased himself onto the bed and pulled Spike closer, taking a sharp nip at his lower belly and rubbing his hand over the bulge in front of his face. Spike moaned, catching Angel’s chin for a kiss as he unfastened Spike’s jeans and wrapped one of those big hands around his cock.
Those bloody hands. Nine years, and still they made Spike’s knees feel weak.
Angel turned considering eyes on the shaft he was pumping with one hand. “You know, you’re right, this definitely feels like pity.”
“Feelings of remorse make me horny,” Spike gasped as Angel licked up a stripe up his cock. His pants were bunched around his knees. “It’s a strange, sick kink.”
Angel knew Spike lost the thread of banter when the slick finger penetrated him. They kicked off their pants and Angel moved back onto the bed, pulling Spike over top of him. Stretching and teasing. Giving pleasure. When Spike bit his lip and began to rock back against Angel’s hand, he felt his own breath coming quicker. Spike’s eyes were soft and dilated on Angel’s. “God, luv. I miss you when I’m gone.”
Angel smiled. “Now who’s the sap?”
“Shut up, tosser,” Spike mumbled, and then he was sliding back onto Angel’s cock and riding him. There were no words for a while, replaced by grunts and moans and sighs. Angel let Spike do the work, watching him rise and fall as he ran possessive hands over Spike’s nipples, his hips-his cock.
He missed Spike when he was away, they both knew that. They’d gone through a rough patch when the Dingoes first started touring farther afield. Angel remembered a lot of nights when Spike was on the road and Angel was home studying, wondering how long they could keep up a week here, three days there. Sometimes wondering if they’d be able to hold it together at all….
But here they were, still. Anchored. Comfortable. Still prone to bouts of hot monkey sex, although they took themselves a lot less seriously these days.
Spike was getting closer. He had that look-jaw hanging slack, eyes down to slivers, cursing like a sailor when he could get the words out. Angel clamped hands down on slim hips and began to pump them downwards-fast and hard-slamming up into him, back be damned, until those pretty blue eyes rolled back in his head and Spike was coming. Angel pulled the lax body down toward him with a fistful of curls, smashing their mouths together greedily as he let himself go.
They slumped together happily, feeling sleepy and sated and squishy.
Spike leaned in and brushed his lips over Angel’s mouth, eyes still a little hazy. His face nestled into Angel’s throat, too content for a moment to move-though Angel knew that wouldn’t last. He carded his fingers through Spike’s ungelled hair. He’d noticed that the dark roots were longer, giving the curl an unkempt, bedhead look-even before they’d gotten into bed.
“So…no bleach-you going native on me?”
Spike grunted and slid off of Angel, sprawling by his side and propping his head up to look at him. He ran a hand over his curls self-consciously. “Thinking about it. Tired of all the sodding chemicals, and it gets hot under the house lights. I was thinking about shaving the whole bloody mop off, actually.”
Angel bit the inside of his lip as it tried to twist up into a smile. “Aren’t you being hasty? I’m not sure a decade is long enough for this particular look.”
Spike punched him in the shoulder and Angel pretended to flinch away.
“Might look good, unless you have an ugly head.”
“Bite your tongue, my head is a thing of beauty.”
“That’s what everyone says until they shave their hair off and find out it’s all lumpy.”
“Arsehole.”
“Dick.”
“At least we go together.” They both burst into a round of juvenile snickering.
Angel laced his fingers through Spike’s. Spike squeezed back.
“Your dad called. He’s coming to visit next weekend.”
“Suppose he’ll want to see everyone. Better rally the troops. But this time tell Faith she’d better get a babysitter, because that girl of hers is a holy terror. Last time the cat didn’t come out from under the bed for a week.”
“Em’s the spitting image of Faith at that age.”
Spike snorted. “Therein lies the problem.”
“Anyway, your dad’ll want to see the kids.” Angel rolled his eyes at the dirty look he received for that. “Let him live vicariously. It’s not like we’re popping babies anytime soon.”
“Bugger. Don’t need him to get any ideas. Though if either of us were going to pop them, we both know it would be you. Already have the mood swings and the cravings.”
Angel didn’t deign to respond. Suddenly Spike’s belly gurgled loudly, begging to be heard. Spike pressed his hand to it. “Fuck me, I’m starving.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why you’re hungry in the first place. If you were civilized, we’d be doing this on a full stomach.”
Spike grinned cheekily. “I’ll always choose the fucking over the food, luv. Knew that when you bought the cow.”
“You’re going to be one of those horny, dirty old men.”
“You know you love me.”
Angel popped him on the butt as he climbed over to get out of bed. “If I didn’t, I probably would have killed you by now.”
~*~*~*~*~
Yeah, that's it, folks. I can't believe it's done. hugs and snuggles to everyone who's stuck with me on this from the beginning, through the fits and starts and me figuring out what the hell I was doing. thank you so much to everybody who has told me at one time or another that they were in love with these boys and this story...it meant a lot to me that somebody else felt the same way I did.
ETA: I ended up posting some "deleted scenes" for this fic later.
Title: Backup: the Won’t Back Down sequel
Author: Mel (btvslover82)
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: NC-17 slash, some het elements but no more than PG-13
Summary: teen human AU sequel to WBD, the boys learn how to be men and face the world together. Um, some less pretty things are gonna happen here. I’m just sayin’.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss and ME...alas, alack.
Feedback: please :)
Won’t Back Down and related ficlets are here
banner by the lovely sueworld2003
Chapter 16
“What’s this?”
Angel looked away from the tv up to where Spike stood beside the sofa, holding the envelope from UCSD that he’d found in Angel’s room. The unopened white envelope.
Angel flushed guiltily.
“Where did you get that?”
“Brood room. Care to explain what it was doing there, unopened?”
Angel frowned at him pissily, but Spike had his number.
“That’s supposed to be my own private place. What the hell is the point if you’re going to go in there and rifle through my things?”
Spike smirked. “It was sitting out on the table. No rifling required. Pickin’ a fight’s not gonna work on me, luv. Postmark’s two weeks old. Why haven’t you opened it yet?”
Angel sighed and slumped down on the sofa, staring at the television.
“Angel-”
“It’s thin.”
Spike stared at him. Angel may as well have just spoken Swahili, for all the sense it made to him. He looked at the envelope in his hand and frowned. “Right. I can see that. But you haven’t opened it.”
There was another heavy sigh, followed by a scowl. “A thin envelope means I didn’t get in.”
Spike looked at the offending piece of mail, and then back at his boyfriend. “Riiiiight. See, but you don’t know that, because you haven’t opened it. And the only reason I was in your room in the first place is because another came in the mail today.”
He waved the second envelope to illustrate. Angel looked at him as though he’d just flung dog shit in his face.
“They probably just want to rub it in.”
Spike goggled at him. He was off his nut. “You’re off your nut. Open the damn things.”
“I don’t want to. I know what they say.”
“You stubborn arse. So you’re a coward as well as daft, is that the way of it?”
Angel just clenched his jaw. Spike rolled his eyes and ripped into the first letter.
“Hey! It’s a federal offense to tamper with someone else’s mail, asshole.”
Spike cocked a brow, drawing the letter from its envelope. “I’ll show you federal offense if you don’t stop being such a flaming idiot.”
Angel sat up straight as Spike began to read.. He was clearly interested, so Spike made no expression as he scanned the first letter. He folded it and tore into the second.
“Hey! What did it say?”
Spike mocked him in falsetto. “‘But Spike, I know what it says, because I’m bloody psychic in addition to being remarkably well-hung.’”
He dodged when Angel came after him, reading the second piece of mail on the run. When he wheeled around, it brought Angel up short.
Spike schooled his features into an expression of sincere apology. “I’m sorry, pet.”
The smile died on Angel’s face, corners tipping down. “Sorry?”
“Mmmhhhmmm. For the fact that the people at the uni are stupid bastards, who don’t recognize a good thing when they see it.”
Angel planted his butt on the armrest of the couch. “Oh. See, I told you-”
“Have to be daft not to give you a full scholarship.”
“-they’d never let me in, not with my….” Angel froze and looked up. “What?”
“Well, see, it says here, they’re giving you $5,000 a year on account of what a poor bastard you are, though they clearly don’t know that you have a right handsome sugar d-”
“No. What. I’m in?”
“Yes, Liam, you ponce, you’re officially invited to work your arse off for four years for no pay. Practically indentured servitude. Should be illegal.”
“But. It was thin!”
Spike laughed in disbelief. He was in love with the doziest tosser on the face of the earth. “Yeah. Well I’m sure you’ll get your big damn envelope when all the other little eggheads get theirs. You applied early, you wanker.”
By Angel’s expression, it was clear that hadn’t occurred to him. Angel might be uni-bound, but sometimes Spike swore he was the only one that did the thinking around here.
Spike tossed the letters onto the end table. “I say this calls for a celebration. Hot tub would feel cozy on a day like today, hmmm?”
Angel’s eyes shifted away from the papers lying on the table, interest piqued. “Hot tub?”
“Mmhhhhmmmmm. Got it all warmed up for us and everything.” Spike was still a little revved from their earlier chase. He gave Angel a sly grin. “First one in gets to top!”
Spike spun on his heel and took off through the house towards the backyard, shedding clothing as he sprinted towards the grand prize.
A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Angel, strolling slowly after with a big smile on his face.
~*~*~*~
Angel’s stomach hurt.
He had been sitting in the driveway indecisively for 45 minutes. The engine of the DeSoto was cold now, silent, and the chill of the late February air had seeped into the old car, brushing icy fingers against his thin California coat.
He shuddered a little. He should either go inside, or drive away. He just couldn’t settle on which….
He hadn’t been back to the trailer since that day. Angel knew Spike had, to collect the Plymouth, and to accompany Thomas in getting the guardianship paperwork squared away-to ask Angel’s parents to sign away their rights to him. It had only hurt a little when they’d had no trouble convincing them. It was hardly the first time Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor had denounced him as family. Just made it official, finally.
Angel chewed on his lip and flexed his fingers on the wheel. They were starting to get stiff with the cold. Go, or stay. Go, or stay. God this place was a hovel. Not just for what it was, but for how they kept it. Or rather, didn’t. It was falling apart around them, and he could see where the insulation was bad, heat leaking out so his mother was probably sick again….
Angel sighed at himself and rubbed the pads of his fingers into his eyes. Not his problem. If she hadn’t left Mike by now, she was never going to. If she ever did, maybe then Angel could help her find someplace better.
But he wasn’t going to hold his breath.
But that’s not why he was here. He was here because he couldn’t sleep at night, thinking how proud she’d be of him. Her little boy, a college-bound man. Susan O’Connor had always been a little baffled by her son, but she’d always been proud of him for working so hard. In a vague kind of way. When she paid attention to him.
And if Angel wanted to rub it in Mike’s face a little bit. Well…he deserved that much.
Gut knotting from anxiety, he pulled the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car. His knock was met with a squawk of raised voices for a moment, and then the door swung open to reveal his mother. She looked tired.
Her eyes rounded when she saw him. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she stepped outside and shut the door even though her nightgown was too thin for the weather. That paled in comparison to the importance of shielding him, or herself, from Mike’s wrath.
Her voice was hushed. “Liam, baby, what are you doing here? You didn’t get yourself kicked out of that boy’s place did you? Because if you did-you’ll just have to find something else, Mike would-”
Angel huffed out a self-deprecating laugh at the greeting. It was the first time she’d seen him in nearly nine months. “Hey, mom. Good to see you, too.”
His mother’s face softened. “It is, baby. Been too long. You’ve grown.” She ran proprietary hands down his sides, and Angel couldn’t stop himself from pulling her in for a hug. She smelled like stale cigarettes, and when he didn’t let go right away, she wrapped her arms tight around his waist. “You’ve filled out, honey. Not all skin and bones anymore.”
His throat was tight, and he pulled away. “Yeah. Well there’s always money for groceries, now.”
She looked as though he’d slapped her. “We kept you fed, don’t act like we didn’t! You were just always growing so fast, shootin’ up like a beanpole, was all….”
Right. That was all. For a joyous reunion, this put a familiar ache in his chest, and suddenly he just wanted to get it over with and flee.
“Look, I just came by because I have good news.” She was looking up at him, waiting, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. “I got into college. UCSD, for Business.”
His mother’s face lit up. “Really? Baby, that’s great. Always knew you were too smart for us, always workin’ so hard-”
When the door to the trailer suddenly creaked open, Angel steeled himself against the way that his mother flinched. Mike squinted out into the gray, overcast light of the winter day. His eyes focused blearily on Angel, then wandered off towards the car.
“What are you doing here?”
Angel’s jaw clenched, but he felt a little shaky inside. “I came to see mom.”
Mike’s eyes flicked over to Susan with casual distaste. “Don’t know why, she’s nothin’ to look at. Where’s your little boyfriend?”
He forced himself to smirk. “At home. I didn’t want him to beat the living hell out of you again. Gets expensive in legal fees.”
Angel’s heart buoyed a little at the look on Mike’s face-incensed at the reminder that he’d been bested by a fag.
Mike was a coward. And an asshole.
“Well, you saw her. You can go now.”
As Mike turned in the doorway, poised to slink back inside where it was dark, Angel wasn’t sure what came over him. He just blurted it out. “I’m going to college.”
Mike turned back and regarded him unpleasantly. “Well I’m sure as hell not paying for it.”
Angel’s face hardened. “I wasn’t asking. I got a scholarship. Part of it’s for academics.” A little pride slipped into his voice-he’d earned that money. It wasn’t all charity.
Angel held his breath as Mike gave him a long look. “Yeah, well…I guess they’ll take anybody at those places these days.” And with that, the door banged shut.
Angel was staring at it so hard that he jumped when his mother brushed her hand along his arm. “Sweetie-you better go.”
He tried to shake off the bad feeling inside. “Yeah. I’d better.”
“Take care of yourself. I’m real proud.” One more pat on the arm, and she was gone.
Angel stood on the unkempt lawn for a long time after she’d gone in. It was no news flash to him, how they were. To each other. To him. He’d never expected any differently….
Except he guessed he had, this time. Family was a funny thing.
Angel took a deep breath and tried to let go of the disappointment. He got it now. He’d never get anything else from them. It didn’t matter how successful he was-how smart, how good. He’d always be second-best to his mother, and Mike was always going to treat him like dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.
He was a little surprised to find peace in that. He was done with them. There was nothing more to do, here.
He turned around and got in the car, and his eyes never ticked to the rearview as he drove away. Kept his nose pointed home.
~*~*~*~
Angel found Spike in the kitchen, fixing himself some kind of horrible nacho concoction that gave Angel indigestion just to look at.
He snagged a chip from its chili-cheese nest. Gross, but tasty.
“Hey, luv. Where did you run off to this afternoon?”
Angel shrugged, not wanting to get into it. He was sure he’d tell Spike later, when his feelings were a little less bruised.
“I had some business to take care of.”
Spike looked at him a little too long, then arched a brow. “Business, eh? That sounds mysterious. Sellin’ yourself into the sex trade, then?”
Angel smiled a little. “Figured it would be a good way to cover the gaps in my budget. I hear I’m a ‘brilliant shag.’ I can go for hours.”
Spike smirked. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
They both snickered. Spike hopped up on the counter and pulled Angel in between his legs.
“Well. Seems to me you’re not ready to whore yourself out just yet.”
“I’m not?” Angel wrapped his arms around Spike, reeling him closer to the edge of the counter.
The blunt tips of Spike’s fingers combed against his scalp. “Not quite. You lack a certain professional quality. Still an amateur. I might have to tutor you.”
Angel laughed, caught off guard at the sound. He pressed in close, chuckling into the bend of Spike’s neck. The scent of cigarettes clung to blond hair, but under it Spike smelled clean. Like soap and aftershave and home.
Angel’s laughter died out, and he surprised them both by clinging a little too hard. His eyes stung.
Spike paused. Then his arms wrapped around Angel tighter, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of his head as Angel buried his face in Spike’s throat. Spike’s fingers stroked through his hair, soothing until something in his gut loosened and the tears receded back where they came from.
He had Spike. He had his future ahead of him, all shiny and laid out. He didn’t need them.
God, he was a ponce.
“There, there, pet,” Spike soothed, after Angel had relaxed into him. “No need to be sad. Not as though your career isn’t salvageable. We’ll practice a lot, and you’ll be hiring yourself out for dosh in no time.”
Angel choked back a laugh, greatful that Spike wasn’t asking questions. Not yet, anyway. He was just…being Spike. His Spike.
And Angel felt like this thing between them was actually going to work. God help them all.
~*~*~*~*~
Epilogue.
No matter how many times he told Oz to bloody step on it, the git would never drive any faster, but it didn’t stop Spike from trying. The closer they got to Sunnydale, the antsier he became.
You’d think he’d be used to this by now. These days they toured two weeks on, two weeks off. He was fine when they were busy playing sets up and down the California coast, busy with the business of making music, but once they hit Oxnard…Spike’s pants were on fire. Almost literally.
It was one of the many reasons the Dingoes had turned down the money men from the national scene. Lindsey had grabbed the opportunity with both hands and buggered off, but Spike and Oz had roots.
Spike had always dreamed of the limelight, but it wasn’t worth Liam.
They’d talked it over when the whole thing arose, but when it came down to it, the lifestyle of a national tour didn’t suit. Oz had a family to look after, and Spike had his sobriety. Even on the regional circuits, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t come close to slipping too many times to count.
Angel was well accustomed to phone calls at 3am.
So they’d gotten another front man and kept on as they were, though they pulled more money now and packed all the houses. Maybe Spike had mellowed in his old age, but it didn’t make any sense to mess with a good thing. It’s not as though they needed the money, any of them. Angel would be made a partner at the shop any day now, and Spike had his inheritance. Willow made a pretty penny doing…whatever the bloody hell it was that she did with computers.
As soon as the van pulled up to the apartment building, Spike was out and hefting his bag over his shoulder.
He heard Oz laughing at him as he took the stairs two at a time.
“See ya later, man.” Spike waved him off without looking.
But he slowed as he approached the door. Angel still made fun of him for the last time he’d dashed in and tackled him to the carpet.
He dropped his bag inside the door of their little place and followed the cooking sounds into the kitchen. Angel was stirring something at the stove, and smiled large when he looked over his shoulder and saw Spike standing there.
“Oh good, you’re home. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Spike inhaled theatrically. “The love of my life-barefoot in the kitchen, bun in the oven-life is good.”
Angel bit back a grin. “No bun. Just garlic bread.”
They shared a brief greeting kiss and Spike wrapped him up from behind, looking over his shoulder at what was cooking.
“Smells delicious.”
Angel gave him an amused look. “You know, when you bury your nose in my shoulder, I’m pretty sure you’re smelling soap and not pasta sauce.”
Spike waggled his eyebrows. “Smells delicious.” He kissed the side of Angel’s neck, hand creeping down his bare chest towards the worn pair of jeans. “Missed you, pet,” he lilted.
Angel sighed. “Why is it that you always miss me when it means I’m going to burn supper.”
Spike just made a noise of sympathy for Angel’s plight, and reached around to snap off the burners and the oven. Spike turned him and pressed him against the counter and gave him a proper hello. Angel’s scruffy facial hair was tickling. It was hardly more than 5 o’clock shadow for Angel. Spike still couldn’t grow a whisker to save his life.
“You really can’t wait till after dinner?” Angel grumbled when they finally eased apart. He still had a firm grip on Spike’s arse.
“You know me better, luv. Tell you what though-since I’m a bad, rude man, you can top.”
Angel grinned. “Now you’re talkin’.” When he caught Spike’s ear between his teeth, Spike felt a wash of warmth and laughed.
“Thought you’d see my way of it. Off to the bedroom with us, since you’re such a poof.”
“There’s nothing poofy about hurting my back at work. I have a very manly job, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re a hunk o burning love.”
Angel looked over his shoulder as he passed into the bedroom, eyes flicking down to Spike’s crotch. “I must be, to have you this hot for me.”
Spike snorted. “It’s a pity fuck. I feel bad that you’re an invalid.”
Angel eased himself onto the bed and pulled Spike closer, taking a sharp nip at his lower belly and rubbing his hand over the bulge in front of his face. Spike moaned, catching Angel’s chin for a kiss as he unfastened Spike’s jeans and wrapped one of those big hands around his cock.
Those bloody hands. Nine years, and still they made Spike’s knees feel weak.
Angel turned considering eyes on the shaft he was pumping with one hand. “You know, you’re right, this definitely feels like pity.”
“Feelings of remorse make me horny,” Spike gasped as Angel licked up a stripe up his cock. His pants were bunched around his knees. “It’s a strange, sick kink.”
Angel knew Spike lost the thread of banter when the slick finger penetrated him. They kicked off their pants and Angel moved back onto the bed, pulling Spike over top of him. Stretching and teasing. Giving pleasure. When Spike bit his lip and began to rock back against Angel’s hand, he felt his own breath coming quicker. Spike’s eyes were soft and dilated on Angel’s. “God, luv. I miss you when I’m gone.”
Angel smiled. “Now who’s the sap?”
“Shut up, tosser,” Spike mumbled, and then he was sliding back onto Angel’s cock and riding him. There were no words for a while, replaced by grunts and moans and sighs. Angel let Spike do the work, watching him rise and fall as he ran possessive hands over Spike’s nipples, his hips-his cock.
He missed Spike when he was away, they both knew that. They’d gone through a rough patch when the Dingoes first started touring farther afield. Angel remembered a lot of nights when Spike was on the road and Angel was home studying, wondering how long they could keep up a week here, three days there. Sometimes wondering if they’d be able to hold it together at all….
But here they were, still. Anchored. Comfortable. Still prone to bouts of hot monkey sex, although they took themselves a lot less seriously these days.
Spike was getting closer. He had that look-jaw hanging slack, eyes down to slivers, cursing like a sailor when he could get the words out. Angel clamped hands down on slim hips and began to pump them downwards-fast and hard-slamming up into him, back be damned, until those pretty blue eyes rolled back in his head and Spike was coming. Angel pulled the lax body down toward him with a fistful of curls, smashing their mouths together greedily as he let himself go.
They slumped together happily, feeling sleepy and sated and squishy.
Spike leaned in and brushed his lips over Angel’s mouth, eyes still a little hazy. His face nestled into Angel’s throat, too content for a moment to move-though Angel knew that wouldn’t last. He carded his fingers through Spike’s ungelled hair. He’d noticed that the dark roots were longer, giving the curl an unkempt, bedhead look-even before they’d gotten into bed.
“So…no bleach-you going native on me?”
Spike grunted and slid off of Angel, sprawling by his side and propping his head up to look at him. He ran a hand over his curls self-consciously. “Thinking about it. Tired of all the sodding chemicals, and it gets hot under the house lights. I was thinking about shaving the whole bloody mop off, actually.”
Angel bit the inside of his lip as it tried to twist up into a smile. “Aren’t you being hasty? I’m not sure a decade is long enough for this particular look.”
Spike punched him in the shoulder and Angel pretended to flinch away.
“Might look good, unless you have an ugly head.”
“Bite your tongue, my head is a thing of beauty.”
“That’s what everyone says until they shave their hair off and find out it’s all lumpy.”
“Arsehole.”
“Dick.”
“At least we go together.” They both burst into a round of juvenile snickering.
Angel laced his fingers through Spike’s. Spike squeezed back.
“Your dad called. He’s coming to visit next weekend.”
“Suppose he’ll want to see everyone. Better rally the troops. But this time tell Faith she’d better get a babysitter, because that girl of hers is a holy terror. Last time the cat didn’t come out from under the bed for a week.”
“Em’s the spitting image of Faith at that age.”
Spike snorted. “Therein lies the problem.”
“Anyway, your dad’ll want to see the kids.” Angel rolled his eyes at the dirty look he received for that. “Let him live vicariously. It’s not like we’re popping babies anytime soon.”
“Bugger. Don’t need him to get any ideas. Though if either of us were going to pop them, we both know it would be you. Already have the mood swings and the cravings.”
Angel didn’t deign to respond. Suddenly Spike’s belly gurgled loudly, begging to be heard. Spike pressed his hand to it. “Fuck me, I’m starving.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why you’re hungry in the first place. If you were civilized, we’d be doing this on a full stomach.”
Spike grinned cheekily. “I’ll always choose the fucking over the food, luv. Knew that when you bought the cow.”
“You’re going to be one of those horny, dirty old men.”
“You know you love me.”
Angel popped him on the butt as he climbed over to get out of bed. “If I didn’t, I probably would have killed you by now.”
~*~*~*~*~
Yeah, that's it, folks. I can't believe it's done. hugs and snuggles to everyone who's stuck with me on this from the beginning, through the fits and starts and me figuring out what the hell I was doing. thank you so much to everybody who has told me at one time or another that they were in love with these boys and this story...it meant a lot to me that somebody else felt the same way I did.
ETA: I ended up posting some "deleted scenes" for this fic later.