Fic: The Fire Within, chapter 2. AU Human. Liam/Spike. NC-17
Ok, here is ch. 2 of this. Not sure when I'll post the next chapter, might be a few days. Depends on how it goes writing tomorrow and Friday. Anyway, introducing Will. I hope you like him as much as I do.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 2
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Previous chapter is here
Three days later he was going insane from boredom. Boxes of various take-away junk food were scattered around the apartment along with DVDs, books, porn magazines and more bottles of beers than he cared to count. The doctors had told him to take it easy and the captain had forbidden him to even step a foot inside the station until his two weeks of sick leave were up. Gunn had checked in on him every day but he looked tired and Liam felt bad for keeping him away from his pregnant girlfriend. Some of the other guys called but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. Wasn’t in the mood for anything. Gunn would have said he was brooding.
Irritated he scratched around his scar that was so damn itchy he had to fight not to sink his fingernails into the purple tissue and rip it open. Let it fucking bleed, what did he care? What the fuck did it matter?
He knew he was sinking into depression again. Work was the only thing that could keep that suffocating darkness away and he doubted he could hold out for eleven more days. The beer numbed the desperation but he knew he was only hours away from heading to the shop at the corner for some real booze. And once he started on that…
He was feeling light-headed from the combination of painkillers and beer. He was already half-through the pills he’d gotten even if they were supposed to last him two weeks. Well, what the fuck did those doctors know about his pain? Angry he drank down the last drops of beer then staggered to his feet to fetch a new one. The stench of something rotting hit him as he opened the fridge and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He really should clean in here, clean this whole place, clean his whole fucking life. Should but wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
His eyes narrowed as he stared into the fridge. All kinds of stuff in there, most of it inedible, but what it didn’t hold was more beer. How did he not notice that when he took out the last one? Fuck. Fucking shit. Closing his eyes he pondered his options. Gunn might stop by but the look he gave him yesterday as he almost tripped over one of the bottles lying in front of the TV hadn’t really been that understanding. The fucking elevator was broken again so he’d have to walk down five floors, then across the street and back again, this time carrying heavy bottles. Well, if he was going to make that effort he was going to buy something a bit stronger than beer. Make the journey worth it.
He straightened slowly up, grimacing, and slammed the fridge door shut. His pyjama bottoms were stained, his t-shirt smelled of sweat and spilled beer but who was going to care? Stumbling into the hall he shuffled his bare feet into a pair of sneakers, picked up the keys and reached for the door.
The knock startled him to the point that he jumped back, hissing as the quick movement sent a stab of pain through his side. Hand trembling he reached for the knob and opened the door.
“Gunn, you fucker. You scared the shi-” He froze.
“Erm… hi.” The young man standing in the hall gave him an apologetic smile. “Someone left the door unlocked downstairs. You probably don’t remember me but…”
Liam stood still for a moment, taking in the blond hair, the blue eyes, the butterfly band-aid across his eyebrow. God, the kid was so much like Him it was chilling.
“I remember. What do you want?” His voice came off harsher than he intended but the young cop didn’t seem intimidated, just gave him a big smile and stuck out his hand, the skin still red and raw at the knuckles.
“Well, first I want to thank you for saving my life, mate. Found myself in a bit of a barbeque, yeah? Bloody fucking marvellous you finding me. Thanks a lot. I owe you one big huge favour. Anything I can do for you just name it and…”
Liam shoved a wad of money into his hand. “Go down to the corner and buy me some…” He hesitated. “… beer. Two six-packs. Then we’re even.”
The kid - William, Will, was his name, Liam reluctantly remembered - looked down at the money and blinked, then thrust it back, shaking his head. “Bugger that, it’s on me.” He turned then looked back. “Beer? You sure? ‘Cause that piss you lot have over here is just…”
“Just bring me the fucking beer.”
He slammed the door in the boy’s face and rested his forehead against the wooden surface. God, why didn’t he just tell him to piss off? Slowly he raised his head and took in the surroundings. Fucking pigsty, that’s what this was. The whole place reeked of pathetic loneliness. The moulding leftovers and empty bottles perfected the atmosphere.
Well, he wouldn’t let him in. Just take the beer from his hand, say, “Thank you, run along now,” and close the door. Feeling sick he looked himself over in the hall mirror. Oh fucking Jesus. He looked like shit. Like the fucking drunken loser he knew he was. He still hadn’t showered, his clothes were even dirtier than he’d thought, his face was grey and drawn, circles under his eyes, stubble covering his cheeks. A bum. A fucking bum.
The loud knocking startled him even more than the first time and he swung the door open so fast the boy almost fell forward. He was panting, two big bags at his feet, big grin plastered across his face.
“Jesus! Did you run?”
“Yeah. Sorta did.” Will blinked. “Probably shouldn’t have, now I think of it. With the concussion and all.”
He suddenly went white and Liam grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him up against the wall. “Hey! Don’t you faint on me!”
“I’m all right. I’m… Maybe I should sit down for a minute?” The kid started sliding down the wall and Liam pulled him up again then dragged him in and helped him into the living room where he fell down on the couch, eyes closed. Great. Just fucking great.
Liam fetched the grocery bags - what the fuck had the boy bought to fill up two big bags? - and put them up on the kitchen table. Then he rinsed out a reasonably clean glass and filled it with cold water. When he got back into the living room Will was sitting up, rubbing his temples.
“Here.”
“What? Oh, thanks. Sorry ‘bout that.” The boy accepted the glass and took a small sip. “Been a bit wonky. Should be all right in a few days, or so they say.” He looked up at Liam and smiled. “Thanks to you. My big fireman hero.”
Liam looked away. “Yeah, whatever. Fucking stupid of you running into a burning building like that.”
Will shrugged. “I guess. Couldn’t just stand there though. Well, you know. Thought I had to at least try. Found her hiding under the bed in her room. Took a quick shower with her blanket, ran through the flames and then…I fainted like a fairy.” He twitched his lips and took another sip. “You must think I topple over all the time.”
Liam stood quiet, watching him. When Will looked up at him he shook himself awake. “She would probably have been dead if you hadn’t found her. The rooms were in flames when we got there. And the wet blanket helped keeping the heat away.”
“Yeah? Well, that makes me feel a bit better. She’s in awful pain, poor little bint. They had to do some skin grafting on her legs. Not nice, I tell ya. But once she can walk I’m taking her out for ice cream.” He chuckled. “Little Rosie has a soft spot for sweets.”
Liam blinked. “You went to see her?”
“Well, I had to, didn’t I? Promised her I’d bring her chocolate if she was good that night. Besides, hospital was bloody boring.”
Liam didn’t know why he suddenly felt so hurt. “Yeah, I know.”
Will tilted his head, then nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably in and out of it all the time. Occupational hazard, eh?” He drank another sip of water and stood up. “I should probably leave you to it. Hope I bought the right sort. Oh, and I bought you some food too.” He took a look around, finally seeming to take in his surroundings. “Or maybe you don’t cook.”
To his annoyance Liam could feel himself blushing. “Haven’t really felt up to it, no. But thanks anyway.”
The pain in his side was building up slowly but steadily and as Will turned his back on him he grabbed the glass of water and popped the pills he’d been fumbling with in his pocket, waiting for the opportunity to swallow them. There was just about enough water left to help them glide down and he breathed slowly, fighting the nausea that was rising in his throat
“Mate, are you all right? Hate to say it, but you don’t look too well.”
He opened his eyes to find Will watching him with concern. “I’m fine. Tired. Maybe you should go now?”
“Are you sure? ‘Cause you look…”
“Like shit. Thank you. Please go.”
Will grinned. “Didn’t say that. Actually you look quite different from what I imagined.”
Liam frowned. “You imagined me?” And what disturbing thoughts that brought up.
“Yeah. I dreamt you looked like Dennis Leary.” The boy laughed. “Too much TV on lonely nights, I guess. But I like the real thing better. Anyway, again, thank you.”
Before Liam had time to back away he was pulled into a tight hug. Pain shot through him, sharp like a knife and his knees gave way from under him.
“Oh fuck. Shit, I’m sorry. Are you hurt? You didn’t tell me you were hurt. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.”
Will’s voice sounded like murmur through the pounding in his ears. “I’m… ok. Just…need to lie down.”
“I’ve got you. In there, yeah?”
They stumbled through the door and into the bedroom where Will lowered Liam down on the bed. His whole side was throbbing with pain and he gritted his teeth.
“Let me see.”
“No! Just…” He shivered as he felt warm fingers skim over his skin and lift his t-shirt.
“Oh bloody hell! Shit! Do you need a doctor? Should I call an ambulance?”
“No. I’m all right. I’ll be all right.”
He breathed deeply, trying to suppress the nausea that was threatening to erupt. He kept his eyes closed, Will’s presence both disturbing and confusing. Only a few minutes ago he’d wanted the kid to leave but now the prospect of being left lying here alone seemed overwhelmingly depressing and just the possibility of Will staying a little bit longer flickered a feeling inside him that he thought he recognised as hope.
Oh fuck.
“Did this happen…” Light fingers danced over his scarred and bruised skin. “…you know, when you…?”
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.
“Oh balls. I’m so fucking sorry. Can’t believe they didn’t tell me. Stupid sods.”
“All part… of the job.”
The soft laugh made his stomach flutter.
The bed lifted as Will stood up and Liam’s fingers itched to pull him back down. “Well, since you got your belly blown open for me the least I can do is make you dinner.”
Oh god, please, yes. He opened his eyes, trying to look bored. “You don’t have to…”
“It’s no problem. Spaghetti Bolognese ok?”
Ok? It sounded like heaven. “Sure.”
“Oh good. Because it’s the only thing I can make.” He laughed again and patted Liam’s leg before heading out to the kitchen.
It was odd, lying there and listening to someone pattering around in the kitchen. He had been alone for so long that he’d almost forgotten what it was like, having someone take care of him. He smiled as a soft voice started humming some foreign tune and relaxed down on the pillows.
He’d only just closed his eyes for a second or so it seemed, when someone shook him gently awake and he blinked against the soft light.
“Hey. Dinner is ready in five minutes if you want to take a shower.”
“What? No, I…” Will quirked his eyebrow and he paused. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do that.”
“Need any help?”
Liam looked back at him sharply but there was nothing but concern in the young man’s face and he shook his head. “No, I’ll be all right.”
“Ok. But shout if… well, you know.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
The warm water only stung a little. He hadn’t realised how much difference a good shower would do to his well being. Or maybe he had, he just hadn’t wanted that difference. Wallowing in his own misery was something he was getting good at.
He put on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt then made his way into the kitchen, the aroma of real food making him salivate. Will was just pouring steaming spaghetti into a big bowl and when he glanced over his shoulder with a smile Liam felt a sting in his heart by the familiarity. Not him. Not really him.
“You look better already. More colour.” Will smiled and nodded towards the table. “Sit down.”
“Yes, mom.”
Again that laughter. He didn’t know why it made him feel so happy. Maybe because it sounded nothing like Billy’s. “Smells good.”
“Dig in.” Will pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. “Should taste okay. I hope.”
“Tastes fucking great. Thanks.” He reached for his glass and only paused for a second when he saw it contained only water.
“So…” Will put another fork of spaghetti into his mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing. “Who’s the guy on your fridge? I couldn’t help noticing the similarity.”
Liam froze. Why hadn’t he remembered that photo? Not like he didn’t pretend not to stare at it every day.
“Sorry. Non of my business.”
“Bill.” He didn’t even know he was going to tell Will until it was out.
Will frowned. “No. Will, actually. Though my friends call me Spike.”
Liam shook his head. “No, not you. Him. His name was Bill. Billy.” His Billy.
“Oh. God, I’m sorry. How did…?”
“Suicide.”
Will… Spike shook his head. “Hate that. Close friend?” He rolled spaghetti onto his fork and Liam watched him put it in his mouth, sucking escaping pasta through puckered lips.
“You could say that.”
“Hmm.” Spike tilted his head as he chewed, blue eyes gazing at him. “Thought so. Feel guilty, right? Been there, done that. Finally figured out it wasn’t my fault.”
“Yeah, well. It was mine so…”
Spike shook his head violently. “No. Nonono. If someone is really set on killing themselves, they will. You can’t watch their every step, you can’t lock them up…”
“You can drive them to it though.”
Spike paused. “I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Liam stabbed his fork into the rapidly shrinking mountain of food. “So who did you know who…?”
There was silence for a moment. “My mum. Pills.”
“Oh.” Liam wasn’t sure what to say. “Why?” Definitely not that.
“Because of me. Or that’s what I believed for the longest time because that’s what she kept telling me. That her whole miserable life was my fault. Having a child out of wedlock didn’t really put you high on the social list in Catholic Ireland so she moved to London before I was born. Spent her days drinking and cursing my existence. The day I turned sixteen she threw me out and killed herself.”
“Jesus! God, I’m sorry.”
Spike shrugged and gave him a small smile. “Probably didn’t help that she caught me and Stephen Miller with our pants down.”
Liam blinked. “Excuse me?”
Spike quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, like you didn’t know I was gay.”
“No, I did. It’s just…”
Spike put down his fork and sighed. “Look, for years I blamed myself. Then I finally figured out that it didn’t matter who or what I was. I didn’t make her pregnant, I didn’t choose to be born into a strict Catholic family, I didn’t make her a drunk, I didn’t turn myself gay. That’s just what happened. It’s how you deal with it that matters. She didn’t and I did.”
Liam stared at him thoughtfully. He’d never thought of things that way. He’d always felt guilty for something, being Catholic himself, and after he figured out what he was it only magnified. Billy’s death had been the final straw. He couldn’t even pass a church anymore without feeling such deep shame that he usually headed for the nearest bar.
“It can’t really be that easy.”
“Oh, nothing is ever easy. It was hell actually, still is sometimes.” Spike picked up his fork again and twirled it between his fingers. “Having good friends helps. Not that I've really made any here yet. Being openly out actually helps. People stare and whisper, some of them even curse you to your face, but being able to just look them in the eye and say “Yes, I am gay, what’s it to you?” is a whole lot better than walking around with this big secret, terrified that people will find out. The things you imagine will happen are usually worse than the reality.” He put the fork down carefully. “Usually, but not always.”
“Huh.” Liam thought of what Gunn had told him. He could still see a yellow bruise on Spike’s cheek and he couldn’t help wondering if and where he had others.
“Shit, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear this. I tend to do this.”
Liam couldn’t help smiling. “What? Take over people’s home, make them dinner and tell them your life story?”
The laughter lightened the atmosphere considerably. “Not the first two, no. But I do blabber on a bit. Especially with people I like.”
Liam felt his face heat up. “You don’t even know me.”
Spike dismissed that with a wave. “Don’t have to know you to know I like you.” He looked up and winked. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on pulling your pants down.”
The water forced its way down his windpipe and he coughed violently, eyes watering, hand clutched at his side against the pain.
“Oops. Sorry. You all right?”
“Fi-ine.” He gasped for air. “Warn me next time, eh?”
“I promise. No more I-want-to-hump-your-tight-little-arse jokes.”
Liam couldn’t help laughing. It felt good despite it shaking his stomach to new pain. “You just said you didn’t want to.”
“Nah, I just said I wasn’t planning on it. There’s a difference.”
He smiled but his eyes held a glint and Liam swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. He looked down, shoving the rests of his meal back and forth on the plate.
Spike leaned back in his chair, but Liam could feel his eyes burning on him. “So… Billy. He was a fireman?”
“Yeah. Look, can we not talk about…”
“You’d been together long?”
Liam froze.
“Look, it’s all right…”
“Did Gunn put you up to this?”
Spike frowned. “What? Who?”
“Gunn. Big black son of a bitch. Did he tell you about…” Liam looked down, jaw clenched, and pushed the chair back. “I think you better go.”
Spike just sat there, blinking, looking confused as hell. Then he slowly pushed back his chair as well and stood up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be obtrusive. I thought…” He paused. “I didn’t realise you weren’t out yet.”
“I don’t have anything to be ‘out’ about.”
Spike stood still, blue eyes holding his, eyes filled with sympathy and understanding and a hint of sadness. “Okay. All right.” He nodded slowly then turned away. He paused briefly to look at the picture of Billy. Blue eyed, blond haired Billy, smiling lovingly at the man holding the camera. “If I didn’t know better I’d think that was me.”
“It isn’t. You’re nothing like him.”
Spike bowed his head. “No, I don’t suppose I am.” He walked slowly out into the living room, picking up his jacket from the back of the couch before heading for the door. He paused again, hand on the knob. “If you ever want to talk or would just like someone to hang out with… My phone number is on the kitchen bench.”
“Yeah, sure.” That piece of paper would hit the bottom of the garbage can as soon as the door closed.
“Okay. Obviously not.” Spike turned around and gave him a smile. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me. I just like you. You’re a nice bloke and I don’t have that many friends. The other thing? Not important. I don’t choose my friends by their sexuality. Doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight to me.” He gave Liam a look over which sent flashes of fire to his groin. “Must say though, Billy obviously had great taste.”
He was out the door and descending the stairs before Liam had a chance to even think of an answer. Slowly he closed the door and walked into the kitchen again. The sweet smell of food made him feel lonelier than ever. On the bench lay a folded envelope, the name Spike and a number scribbled in scrawny letters across. Liam grabbed it and crumpled it up in his hand, then dropped it in the trash. He opened the fridge and fetched two bottles of beer, pinching their necks between the fingers of his left hand while his right fished out the bottle of pills from his pocket.
An hour later he retrieved the envelope out of the bin, straightened it out with a trembling hand and put it up on the fridge next to Billy’s picture.
Continued here
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 2
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Previous chapter is here
Three days later he was going insane from boredom. Boxes of various take-away junk food were scattered around the apartment along with DVDs, books, porn magazines and more bottles of beers than he cared to count. The doctors had told him to take it easy and the captain had forbidden him to even step a foot inside the station until his two weeks of sick leave were up. Gunn had checked in on him every day but he looked tired and Liam felt bad for keeping him away from his pregnant girlfriend. Some of the other guys called but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. Wasn’t in the mood for anything. Gunn would have said he was brooding.
Irritated he scratched around his scar that was so damn itchy he had to fight not to sink his fingernails into the purple tissue and rip it open. Let it fucking bleed, what did he care? What the fuck did it matter?
He knew he was sinking into depression again. Work was the only thing that could keep that suffocating darkness away and he doubted he could hold out for eleven more days. The beer numbed the desperation but he knew he was only hours away from heading to the shop at the corner for some real booze. And once he started on that…
He was feeling light-headed from the combination of painkillers and beer. He was already half-through the pills he’d gotten even if they were supposed to last him two weeks. Well, what the fuck did those doctors know about his pain? Angry he drank down the last drops of beer then staggered to his feet to fetch a new one. The stench of something rotting hit him as he opened the fridge and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He really should clean in here, clean this whole place, clean his whole fucking life. Should but wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
His eyes narrowed as he stared into the fridge. All kinds of stuff in there, most of it inedible, but what it didn’t hold was more beer. How did he not notice that when he took out the last one? Fuck. Fucking shit. Closing his eyes he pondered his options. Gunn might stop by but the look he gave him yesterday as he almost tripped over one of the bottles lying in front of the TV hadn’t really been that understanding. The fucking elevator was broken again so he’d have to walk down five floors, then across the street and back again, this time carrying heavy bottles. Well, if he was going to make that effort he was going to buy something a bit stronger than beer. Make the journey worth it.
He straightened slowly up, grimacing, and slammed the fridge door shut. His pyjama bottoms were stained, his t-shirt smelled of sweat and spilled beer but who was going to care? Stumbling into the hall he shuffled his bare feet into a pair of sneakers, picked up the keys and reached for the door.
The knock startled him to the point that he jumped back, hissing as the quick movement sent a stab of pain through his side. Hand trembling he reached for the knob and opened the door.
“Gunn, you fucker. You scared the shi-” He froze.
“Erm… hi.” The young man standing in the hall gave him an apologetic smile. “Someone left the door unlocked downstairs. You probably don’t remember me but…”
Liam stood still for a moment, taking in the blond hair, the blue eyes, the butterfly band-aid across his eyebrow. God, the kid was so much like Him it was chilling.
“I remember. What do you want?” His voice came off harsher than he intended but the young cop didn’t seem intimidated, just gave him a big smile and stuck out his hand, the skin still red and raw at the knuckles.
“Well, first I want to thank you for saving my life, mate. Found myself in a bit of a barbeque, yeah? Bloody fucking marvellous you finding me. Thanks a lot. I owe you one big huge favour. Anything I can do for you just name it and…”
Liam shoved a wad of money into his hand. “Go down to the corner and buy me some…” He hesitated. “… beer. Two six-packs. Then we’re even.”
The kid - William, Will, was his name, Liam reluctantly remembered - looked down at the money and blinked, then thrust it back, shaking his head. “Bugger that, it’s on me.” He turned then looked back. “Beer? You sure? ‘Cause that piss you lot have over here is just…”
“Just bring me the fucking beer.”
He slammed the door in the boy’s face and rested his forehead against the wooden surface. God, why didn’t he just tell him to piss off? Slowly he raised his head and took in the surroundings. Fucking pigsty, that’s what this was. The whole place reeked of pathetic loneliness. The moulding leftovers and empty bottles perfected the atmosphere.
Well, he wouldn’t let him in. Just take the beer from his hand, say, “Thank you, run along now,” and close the door. Feeling sick he looked himself over in the hall mirror. Oh fucking Jesus. He looked like shit. Like the fucking drunken loser he knew he was. He still hadn’t showered, his clothes were even dirtier than he’d thought, his face was grey and drawn, circles under his eyes, stubble covering his cheeks. A bum. A fucking bum.
The loud knocking startled him even more than the first time and he swung the door open so fast the boy almost fell forward. He was panting, two big bags at his feet, big grin plastered across his face.
“Jesus! Did you run?”
“Yeah. Sorta did.” Will blinked. “Probably shouldn’t have, now I think of it. With the concussion and all.”
He suddenly went white and Liam grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him up against the wall. “Hey! Don’t you faint on me!”
“I’m all right. I’m… Maybe I should sit down for a minute?” The kid started sliding down the wall and Liam pulled him up again then dragged him in and helped him into the living room where he fell down on the couch, eyes closed. Great. Just fucking great.
Liam fetched the grocery bags - what the fuck had the boy bought to fill up two big bags? - and put them up on the kitchen table. Then he rinsed out a reasonably clean glass and filled it with cold water. When he got back into the living room Will was sitting up, rubbing his temples.
“Here.”
“What? Oh, thanks. Sorry ‘bout that.” The boy accepted the glass and took a small sip. “Been a bit wonky. Should be all right in a few days, or so they say.” He looked up at Liam and smiled. “Thanks to you. My big fireman hero.”
Liam looked away. “Yeah, whatever. Fucking stupid of you running into a burning building like that.”
Will shrugged. “I guess. Couldn’t just stand there though. Well, you know. Thought I had to at least try. Found her hiding under the bed in her room. Took a quick shower with her blanket, ran through the flames and then…I fainted like a fairy.” He twitched his lips and took another sip. “You must think I topple over all the time.”
Liam stood quiet, watching him. When Will looked up at him he shook himself awake. “She would probably have been dead if you hadn’t found her. The rooms were in flames when we got there. And the wet blanket helped keeping the heat away.”
“Yeah? Well, that makes me feel a bit better. She’s in awful pain, poor little bint. They had to do some skin grafting on her legs. Not nice, I tell ya. But once she can walk I’m taking her out for ice cream.” He chuckled. “Little Rosie has a soft spot for sweets.”
Liam blinked. “You went to see her?”
“Well, I had to, didn’t I? Promised her I’d bring her chocolate if she was good that night. Besides, hospital was bloody boring.”
Liam didn’t know why he suddenly felt so hurt. “Yeah, I know.”
Will tilted his head, then nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably in and out of it all the time. Occupational hazard, eh?” He drank another sip of water and stood up. “I should probably leave you to it. Hope I bought the right sort. Oh, and I bought you some food too.” He took a look around, finally seeming to take in his surroundings. “Or maybe you don’t cook.”
To his annoyance Liam could feel himself blushing. “Haven’t really felt up to it, no. But thanks anyway.”
The pain in his side was building up slowly but steadily and as Will turned his back on him he grabbed the glass of water and popped the pills he’d been fumbling with in his pocket, waiting for the opportunity to swallow them. There was just about enough water left to help them glide down and he breathed slowly, fighting the nausea that was rising in his throat
“Mate, are you all right? Hate to say it, but you don’t look too well.”
He opened his eyes to find Will watching him with concern. “I’m fine. Tired. Maybe you should go now?”
“Are you sure? ‘Cause you look…”
“Like shit. Thank you. Please go.”
Will grinned. “Didn’t say that. Actually you look quite different from what I imagined.”
Liam frowned. “You imagined me?” And what disturbing thoughts that brought up.
“Yeah. I dreamt you looked like Dennis Leary.” The boy laughed. “Too much TV on lonely nights, I guess. But I like the real thing better. Anyway, again, thank you.”
Before Liam had time to back away he was pulled into a tight hug. Pain shot through him, sharp like a knife and his knees gave way from under him.
“Oh fuck. Shit, I’m sorry. Are you hurt? You didn’t tell me you were hurt. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.”
Will’s voice sounded like murmur through the pounding in his ears. “I’m… ok. Just…need to lie down.”
“I’ve got you. In there, yeah?”
They stumbled through the door and into the bedroom where Will lowered Liam down on the bed. His whole side was throbbing with pain and he gritted his teeth.
“Let me see.”
“No! Just…” He shivered as he felt warm fingers skim over his skin and lift his t-shirt.
“Oh bloody hell! Shit! Do you need a doctor? Should I call an ambulance?”
“No. I’m all right. I’ll be all right.”
He breathed deeply, trying to suppress the nausea that was threatening to erupt. He kept his eyes closed, Will’s presence both disturbing and confusing. Only a few minutes ago he’d wanted the kid to leave but now the prospect of being left lying here alone seemed overwhelmingly depressing and just the possibility of Will staying a little bit longer flickered a feeling inside him that he thought he recognised as hope.
Oh fuck.
“Did this happen…” Light fingers danced over his scarred and bruised skin. “…you know, when you…?”
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.
“Oh balls. I’m so fucking sorry. Can’t believe they didn’t tell me. Stupid sods.”
“All part… of the job.”
The soft laugh made his stomach flutter.
The bed lifted as Will stood up and Liam’s fingers itched to pull him back down. “Well, since you got your belly blown open for me the least I can do is make you dinner.”
Oh god, please, yes. He opened his eyes, trying to look bored. “You don’t have to…”
“It’s no problem. Spaghetti Bolognese ok?”
Ok? It sounded like heaven. “Sure.”
“Oh good. Because it’s the only thing I can make.” He laughed again and patted Liam’s leg before heading out to the kitchen.
It was odd, lying there and listening to someone pattering around in the kitchen. He had been alone for so long that he’d almost forgotten what it was like, having someone take care of him. He smiled as a soft voice started humming some foreign tune and relaxed down on the pillows.
He’d only just closed his eyes for a second or so it seemed, when someone shook him gently awake and he blinked against the soft light.
“Hey. Dinner is ready in five minutes if you want to take a shower.”
“What? No, I…” Will quirked his eyebrow and he paused. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do that.”
“Need any help?”
Liam looked back at him sharply but there was nothing but concern in the young man’s face and he shook his head. “No, I’ll be all right.”
“Ok. But shout if… well, you know.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
The warm water only stung a little. He hadn’t realised how much difference a good shower would do to his well being. Or maybe he had, he just hadn’t wanted that difference. Wallowing in his own misery was something he was getting good at.
He put on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt then made his way into the kitchen, the aroma of real food making him salivate. Will was just pouring steaming spaghetti into a big bowl and when he glanced over his shoulder with a smile Liam felt a sting in his heart by the familiarity. Not him. Not really him.
“You look better already. More colour.” Will smiled and nodded towards the table. “Sit down.”
“Yes, mom.”
Again that laughter. He didn’t know why it made him feel so happy. Maybe because it sounded nothing like Billy’s. “Smells good.”
“Dig in.” Will pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. “Should taste okay. I hope.”
“Tastes fucking great. Thanks.” He reached for his glass and only paused for a second when he saw it contained only water.
“So…” Will put another fork of spaghetti into his mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing. “Who’s the guy on your fridge? I couldn’t help noticing the similarity.”
Liam froze. Why hadn’t he remembered that photo? Not like he didn’t pretend not to stare at it every day.
“Sorry. Non of my business.”
“Bill.” He didn’t even know he was going to tell Will until it was out.
Will frowned. “No. Will, actually. Though my friends call me Spike.”
Liam shook his head. “No, not you. Him. His name was Bill. Billy.” His Billy.
“Oh. God, I’m sorry. How did…?”
“Suicide.”
Will… Spike shook his head. “Hate that. Close friend?” He rolled spaghetti onto his fork and Liam watched him put it in his mouth, sucking escaping pasta through puckered lips.
“You could say that.”
“Hmm.” Spike tilted his head as he chewed, blue eyes gazing at him. “Thought so. Feel guilty, right? Been there, done that. Finally figured out it wasn’t my fault.”
“Yeah, well. It was mine so…”
Spike shook his head violently. “No. Nonono. If someone is really set on killing themselves, they will. You can’t watch their every step, you can’t lock them up…”
“You can drive them to it though.”
Spike paused. “I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Liam stabbed his fork into the rapidly shrinking mountain of food. “So who did you know who…?”
There was silence for a moment. “My mum. Pills.”
“Oh.” Liam wasn’t sure what to say. “Why?” Definitely not that.
“Because of me. Or that’s what I believed for the longest time because that’s what she kept telling me. That her whole miserable life was my fault. Having a child out of wedlock didn’t really put you high on the social list in Catholic Ireland so she moved to London before I was born. Spent her days drinking and cursing my existence. The day I turned sixteen she threw me out and killed herself.”
“Jesus! God, I’m sorry.”
Spike shrugged and gave him a small smile. “Probably didn’t help that she caught me and Stephen Miller with our pants down.”
Liam blinked. “Excuse me?”
Spike quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, like you didn’t know I was gay.”
“No, I did. It’s just…”
Spike put down his fork and sighed. “Look, for years I blamed myself. Then I finally figured out that it didn’t matter who or what I was. I didn’t make her pregnant, I didn’t choose to be born into a strict Catholic family, I didn’t make her a drunk, I didn’t turn myself gay. That’s just what happened. It’s how you deal with it that matters. She didn’t and I did.”
Liam stared at him thoughtfully. He’d never thought of things that way. He’d always felt guilty for something, being Catholic himself, and after he figured out what he was it only magnified. Billy’s death had been the final straw. He couldn’t even pass a church anymore without feeling such deep shame that he usually headed for the nearest bar.
“It can’t really be that easy.”
“Oh, nothing is ever easy. It was hell actually, still is sometimes.” Spike picked up his fork again and twirled it between his fingers. “Having good friends helps. Not that I've really made any here yet. Being openly out actually helps. People stare and whisper, some of them even curse you to your face, but being able to just look them in the eye and say “Yes, I am gay, what’s it to you?” is a whole lot better than walking around with this big secret, terrified that people will find out. The things you imagine will happen are usually worse than the reality.” He put the fork down carefully. “Usually, but not always.”
“Huh.” Liam thought of what Gunn had told him. He could still see a yellow bruise on Spike’s cheek and he couldn’t help wondering if and where he had others.
“Shit, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear this. I tend to do this.”
Liam couldn’t help smiling. “What? Take over people’s home, make them dinner and tell them your life story?”
The laughter lightened the atmosphere considerably. “Not the first two, no. But I do blabber on a bit. Especially with people I like.”
Liam felt his face heat up. “You don’t even know me.”
Spike dismissed that with a wave. “Don’t have to know you to know I like you.” He looked up and winked. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on pulling your pants down.”
The water forced its way down his windpipe and he coughed violently, eyes watering, hand clutched at his side against the pain.
“Oops. Sorry. You all right?”
“Fi-ine.” He gasped for air. “Warn me next time, eh?”
“I promise. No more I-want-to-hump-your-tight-little-arse jokes.”
Liam couldn’t help laughing. It felt good despite it shaking his stomach to new pain. “You just said you didn’t want to.”
“Nah, I just said I wasn’t planning on it. There’s a difference.”
He smiled but his eyes held a glint and Liam swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. He looked down, shoving the rests of his meal back and forth on the plate.
Spike leaned back in his chair, but Liam could feel his eyes burning on him. “So… Billy. He was a fireman?”
“Yeah. Look, can we not talk about…”
“You’d been together long?”
Liam froze.
“Look, it’s all right…”
“Did Gunn put you up to this?”
Spike frowned. “What? Who?”
“Gunn. Big black son of a bitch. Did he tell you about…” Liam looked down, jaw clenched, and pushed the chair back. “I think you better go.”
Spike just sat there, blinking, looking confused as hell. Then he slowly pushed back his chair as well and stood up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be obtrusive. I thought…” He paused. “I didn’t realise you weren’t out yet.”
“I don’t have anything to be ‘out’ about.”
Spike stood still, blue eyes holding his, eyes filled with sympathy and understanding and a hint of sadness. “Okay. All right.” He nodded slowly then turned away. He paused briefly to look at the picture of Billy. Blue eyed, blond haired Billy, smiling lovingly at the man holding the camera. “If I didn’t know better I’d think that was me.”
“It isn’t. You’re nothing like him.”
Spike bowed his head. “No, I don’t suppose I am.” He walked slowly out into the living room, picking up his jacket from the back of the couch before heading for the door. He paused again, hand on the knob. “If you ever want to talk or would just like someone to hang out with… My phone number is on the kitchen bench.”
“Yeah, sure.” That piece of paper would hit the bottom of the garbage can as soon as the door closed.
“Okay. Obviously not.” Spike turned around and gave him a smile. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me. I just like you. You’re a nice bloke and I don’t have that many friends. The other thing? Not important. I don’t choose my friends by their sexuality. Doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight to me.” He gave Liam a look over which sent flashes of fire to his groin. “Must say though, Billy obviously had great taste.”
He was out the door and descending the stairs before Liam had a chance to even think of an answer. Slowly he closed the door and walked into the kitchen again. The sweet smell of food made him feel lonelier than ever. On the bench lay a folded envelope, the name Spike and a number scribbled in scrawny letters across. Liam grabbed it and crumpled it up in his hand, then dropped it in the trash. He opened the fridge and fetched two bottles of beer, pinching their necks between the fingers of his left hand while his right fished out the bottle of pills from his pocket.
An hour later he retrieved the envelope out of the bin, straightened it out with a trembling hand and put it up on the fridge next to Billy’s picture.
Continued here