Fic: On The Road To Somewhere. Liam/Spike. NC-17. 3a/3
Ok, here it is. Finally. Not sure about the ending but it will have to do. Too long for one entry sso it's cut in two. Read warnings.
Title: On The Road To Somewhere 3/3
Author: felisblanco
Fandom: BtVS/AtS
Pairing: Liam/Spike, Liam/Lindsey
Word count: This part a little over 13.000 words
Warnings: Breathplay, biting, mild bondage
Summary: AU Human. A promising young artist named Liam is on his way to New York to open his first big exhibition when he comes upon Spike, a runaway teen that's stranded with a busted motorbike by the side of the road.
Author's Note: This was written for spring_spangel. Dedicated to hellziggy.*smooch* Unbeta'd.
Earlier parts here.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected it to be like, living with Spike. Well, he’d had an inkling Spike might be a slob, like most teenage boys, but after grumbling about wet towels on the floor and dirty underwear stuck in between the cushions of the couch for the hundredth time, he decided it wasn’t worth the aggravation and resigned to only griping every other time instead.
The thing was that they were incredibly different.
Spike liked to stay up late while Liam preferred to settle in early, and he liked to sleep in while Liam was up at the crack of dawn. Spike ate burgers and fries and gulped down beer and caffeinated sodas while Liam insisted on light meals and drank wine or water. Spike yelled at the TV while watching sports and soaps. Liam closed himself off in the bedroom, reading nineteenth century novels. He painted and planned the exhibition at the gallery. Spike got a part-time job at a small vintage record store and blasted British punk whenever he was left in charge.
His first paycheck he used to first pay Liam back what he owed him and then to buy cigarettes. He lit up with such a look on ecstasy on his face that Liam asked him why he hadn’t borrowed money to buy some before, to which Spike replied that he was a whore for many things but fags were his own treat. And then had a laughing fit as Liam blushed and asked, “Fags? You mean like … boys?” Liam got his revenge by banning all smoking inside the apartment, a rule he broke himself by reaching for one the next night when they lay panting and sweaty in bed. “Post-coital smoking doesn’t count,” he argued and Spike told him to buy his own bloody smokes then because he couldn’t afford Liam bumming him for one “every couple of hours.”
So there were differences and arguing, teasing and testing each other’s boundaries. The usual ritual people go through when moving in together. But in general they got along amazingly well.
First of all, the sex was fabulous. There was no other word for it. Liam couldn’t remember ever having so much sex, let alone such great sex. Such mind-blowing, adventurous, and kinky sex, to be exact. They tested each other out carefully, finding out kinks and likes they never knew they had, and ruled out others in the process. It was fun and exciting and at times weird and awkward but they learned to read each other, knowing which lines could be crossed and which shouldn’t.
They liked bondage and biting and breathplay but Spike couldn’t stand being gagged and Liam shied away from spanking. Spike had disliked Liam calling him a kid until one night when he counteracted by sarcastically calling Liam ‘daddy’ and Liam almost came in his pants. After that he used it relentlessly. Liam had a sweet tooth, constantly wanting to lick chocolate and cream and other sweet things of Spike’s body. Spike poured tequila on Liam’s belly and licked salt of his chest then kissed him with lime between his teeth. Spike loved public display of affection and after a while Liam got used to it, even started to like it to the extent that he kept trying to find new ways to surprise Spike with kisses and touches.
Second, they actually enjoyed bickering. Possibly influenced by the fact that getting riled up turned Spike on like nothing else and when he ran out of argument he shut Liam up by sticking his tongue down his throat and his hands down Liam’s pants. And really, Liam was fine with giving up whatever he had been fighting so vigorously for, if it meant he got an orgasm instead.
Third, and that was probably the most important part, whatever they were feeling about this thing they had going, it was more real than either of them had felt for anyone before. They hadn’t exactly put words to it but Liam would catch this look in Spike’s eyes that made him hitch his breath and sometimes when he thought about Spike while painting he would stop and stare into space, just overwhelmed with these feelings that he was slightly afraid to analyze.
The only thing they’d really fought about was Spike’s refusal to call his father. He claimed there was no point, that they had nothing to say to each other and it would all just end up a big mess. Liam didn’t agree but since he didn’t have any idea where Spike’s father lived in England or even his name, there was very little he could do. That still didn’t keep him from bringing it up as often as he could without risking Spike storming out in a huff. Which he still did a few times but he always came back after a couple of hours and they made up in all the best ways possible. Liam hoped that with time he would be able to convince Spike to relent and at least send his old man a postcard.
As the date of the grand opening of his exhibition grew nearer Liam found himself getting more and more nervous. He’d held small shows before but nothing of this standard. It had first been scheduled to open a week after his arrival but had to be pushed back as the gallery suffered some water damage. As it was the big day wasn’t until they’d been in New York for three weeks and he was starting to get impatient.
-----
It was a beautiful evening on the first Saturday of June when he straightened his tie and looked critically over himself in the mirror. He probably should go for more trendy clothes, seeing as some of the biggest names of New York’s more bohemian world were expected to drop by, but he’d never really had any fashion sense and he’d rather feel comfortable in his own clothes than awkward in something flashy that the gallery could pick out for him.
There was a soft cough behind him and he turned around to find Spike watching him with an appreciative smile.
“You look great, luv.” He twitched his nose. “Old and boring, but great.”
“Haha, funny.” Liam turned back to the mirror, frowning. “Really? Boring?”
He saw Spike’s reflection smile at him. “Nah. Classy. Sophisticated.”
“Boring,” Liam admitted with a sigh. “What are you wearing?”
“Me?” Spike straightened up, licking his lips uncertainly. “You want me to come?”
Liam swung around, staring at him. “Of course. Why, you don’t want to?”
Spike ducked his head, shifting awkwardly. “Well, yeah. ‘Course I do. You just never said so I… I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d rather I didn’t.”
Liam blinked. Had he really never said anything about it? Damn. He walked up to Spike and kissed him, a slow gentle kiss that still had his heart speeding up. Then he pulled back and smiled. “Can’t show up without a date, can I?”
Spike did a miserable job of hiding his relief. “Better not. Some pansy artist might make a move on you. Or worse, a woman!” His cheeks were slightly flushed as he stalked over to the closet and threw the door open. “I’m not wearing a suit though. Never liked ties. They’re like a bloody noose around the neck.”
Liam walked up behind him and let his hand slide up to his throat, squeezing lightly. “And here I thought you liked being strangled.”
Spike sucked in his breath, pressing his backside hard against Liam’s erection. “When you put it like that…”
“How about you wear the striped jeans and the white shirt under the black jacket? Casual but nice. And I’ll let you borrow one of my ties.”
Spike swallowed, his throat contracting beneath Liam’s palm. “If you’re using my kink just to make me wear a tie, I’m gonna get drunk on champagne and moon the elite crowd at your show.”
“Don’t think they’re expecting that kind of exhibition,” Liam chuckled softly and bit down on Spike’s earlobe. “Wear it, don’t wear it, I don’t care. But if you do wear it I’ll fuck you in the restroom. Wrapping the tie around my fist.”
“Fuck!” Spike turned around and smashed their lips together, kissing Liam until they both had to jerk away for air. “Christ. When we gotta be there? Because I need you. Right the fuck now!”
Liam closed his eyes for a second and then kissed Spike again, gentler this time. “Don’t. We can’t. Cordy said to be there at six or she’d have my hide.”
Spike groaned and reluctantly pulled away. “Well, she can’t have it, cause it’s mine.” He pouted. “That woman is a bloody tyrant, you know? She orders you around like a dog.”
“She’s good at what she does,” Liam argued although he kind of agreed with him. The gallery manager was quite pushy, definitely one used to people following her orders.
“Yeah, I guess. She’s also got a nice rack,” Spike added with a leer.
“Spike!”
“What?” Spike rolled his eyes and pulled out the clothes Liam had suggested, throwing them on the bed. “It’s kinda hard to miss, with all the cleavage she keeps shoving in my face every time I pop by.”
Liam snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, she does that to everybody. Even me.”
“I noticed.”
Spike voice was strangely flat and Liam gave him a puzzled look. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” Spike shrugged. “Just figured you’d never told ‘em, ‘bout you being gay. Thought maybe that was why…” He turned away, snatching the jeans of the bed. “Forget it.”
Liam grabbed his arm, swinging him around. “No. You thought maybe that was why what?”
Spike shook him off. “Thought maybe that was why you hadn’t invited me but now you have so it doesn’t matter, alright?” He tugged on his jeans and buttoned them up with an air of irritation.
“Look, I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t realise I hadn’t formally invited you.” Liam ran his fingers tiredly through his hair. “I thought you knew I expected you to be there. As my date.”
“Yeah? Well, I didn’t.” Spike pulled on the white shirt and buttoned it up. “What with you always introducing me to all your artsy friends as ‘my friend William.’ Hate that name, by the way,” he added with a scowl. “There’s a reason why I don’t use it.”
Liam just stared at him. “You never said. I didn’t… It just felt a bit weird introducing you as Spike and I never use Will except… you know.” He blushed. “You should have said something.”
Spike sighed and went to dig through the drawers, pulling out a pair of socks. “Not gonna throw a tantrum over a name, am I? It’s my name. I just don’t like it.” He sat down on the bed and pulled the socks on. “Makes me feel like I’m back in school, feeling stupid and all wrong. They used to pick on me, you know? Push me around and call me names. Calling me queer.” He gave a short laugh. “I had to ask my mum what it meant, fancy that?”
Liam watched him warily. “I’m sorry. Must have been hard.”
“Not your fault.” Spike shrugged and stood up. “Anyway, it was a long time ago.”
Not that long. Liam was once again reminded of how young Spike actually was. Sometimes he even wondered if Spike had lied to him, if perhaps he was younger than he said but then other times Spike discussed politics and world events in such a way that made him seem a lot older. To tell the truth, for all their long talks and intimacy he didn’t actually know that much about Spike.
“I’m still sorry.” He picked up the black jacket and held it up for Spike, straightening it on his shoulders when he’d shrugged it on. “And yes, she knows I’m gay. And she knows you’re my boyfriend.” He stopped, hands still on Spike’s shoulders. “You are, right?”
Spike gazed up at him and this time there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Well, if I’m not there’s a whole lot of shagging been going on that needs explaining.”
“Right.” Liam laughed awkwardly. “Boyfriend it is then. Glad we cleared that up.”
“Good.” Spike started flicking through the rack of ties, scrunching up his nose in disdain at every one of them. “Hey, what’s weird about the name Spike?”
“Nothing. Except for it not being, you know, a “real” name. More like a dog’s name.”
“Oi! It’s not! Spike Lee, heard of him? And that guy in the Nothing Hill movie with Hugh Grant?”
“I don’t think that was his real name either. And Spike Lee’s real name is Shelton, I think. Where did you pick it up anyway?”
Spike blushed and studied the ties with avid interest. “Wasmcat,” he finally muttered.
“What?”
“It was my cat, alright? Don’t laugh!”
“I’m not laughing!” Just… smiling. Out loud.
Spike grumbled and picked a dark-blue tie, looping it around his neck with a grimace. “Hate these fucking things. Don’t even know how to… fuck!” he cursed as he fumbled with the knot.
“Here. Let me.” Liam tied a neat knot, his fingers lingering on Spike’s throat and he smiled as he felt a small shiver run through the boy. “You look good. Absolutely fuckable.”
“I always look fuckable,” Spike quipped and loosened the tie slightly. “You better make good on your promise or I’ll be the one tying you up tonight-”
“Not really seeing that as a bad thing,” Liam interrupted with a smirk.
“And then going to sleep, leaving you trussed up and horny until the morning,” Spike concluded as he walked out of the room and into the bathroom to fix his hair.
“You wouldn’t! Right? Right, Spike? Spike…”
--------------------------
He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected but surely nothing like this. There were more elite artists and high-class benefactors crammed into the rather spacious gallery than he had met, or even heard of, his whole life. He didn’t know how Cordy had pulled it off but somehow she had managed to bring his name and art to the attention of all the people who really mattered. He was introduced to people he’d only ever read about before and they were all here to see him and view his art. It was quite mind blowing.
At first Spike had kept by his side, nodding a quiet acknowledgment to those Liam introduced him to, shaking the hands of those few that did more than glance his way. No one seemed bothered by his status as ‘boyfriend’ but then again this wasn’t the sort of crowd that would. A few women gave Liam a disappointed look but that was all.
But Cordy kept tugging Liam along to meet and greet more and more people and soon Spike waved him off with a reassuring smile and slinked away to stand in the corner, a glass of champagne in his hand, stuffing his mouth with chocolate covered strawberries. No one asked his age and Liam figured if he got too drunk then so be it. He was unlikely to start a scene or get Liam into trouble in any way. Liam just hoped he wasn’t too bored.
“Oh great! Finally!” Cordy tugged at his arm and pulled him away from a reporter from the Art in America magazine who’d been hanging on his arm, touching him way more than he thought necessary. “He’s here.”
Liam stumbled slightly as he swept his eyes across the room, trying to find Spike to make sure he was not passed out or mooning people. Or worse, gone.
“Who?” he asked absently.
“Your sponsor. Now just smile and be nice and please don’t tell that story of your art teacher again. It’s very sweet but very boring and if more people start yawning we’ll have to buy more champagne.”
Liam frowned at her. “It’s not bor-”
“Ah, Mr. McDonald! So glad you could make it.”
Liam’s head snapped up so fast he’d feel dizzy if he wasn’t too busy staring at the man standing in front of him, a lazy smile on his face.
“Hello there, Lee.”
Cordy blinked and then stared at Liam before looking back at Lindsey. “You two know each other?”
“Old friends,” Lindsey drawled and put out his hand, waiting for Liam to take it. “Ain’t that right, Liam?”
“Right. Friends.” Liam dazedly accepted the offer, the feel of Lindsey’s hand in his so familiar and still so foreign. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“Didn’t think you’d accept it if you did.”
“I probably wouldn’t have, no.”
Cordy’s face went from puzzled to worried and she licked her lips, waving at a waiter to come over with a tray of glasses. “Well, this is a nice surprise. Champagne?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Lindsey took two glasses and offered one to Liam. “Too old times and new beginnings.”
Liam took the glass with a nod and sipped from it slowly. He honestly had no idea what to say. He’d been angry with the man for so long but everything was different now. It still hurt, he still felt betrayed, especially when Lindsey just stood there, smiling, as if nothing had happened.
But he’d been so happy the last three weeks, with Spike, that the past seemed insignificant in comparison. In fact, he probably wouldn’t even have met Spike if it hadn’t been for Lindsey and all that had gone down because of him.
Cordy smiled at Lindsey, gave Liam a warning glare, and then she was off to flirt with more important people, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors.
“You look good,” Lindsey finally said, tilting his head and smirking in a way that Liam had always found so sexy before.
“You look older,” Liam answered, unable to keep the cold out of his voice. “How’s Buffy?”
Lindsey’s face tightened. “Good. Home, taking care of the kids.”
Liam nodded. “Got many?”
“Two. A boy and a girl.” Lindsey stared at him challengingly but Liam only nodded again and after a moment’s silence Lindsey sighed. “Look, I know we didn’t part on the best of terms but…” He stopped when Liam laughed coldly. “Ok, maybe that’s an understatement.”
Liam shook his head in disbelief. “What do you want? Why did you do this, sponsor me? What did you hope to accomplish from all this?”
“Who says I want anything? Maybe I’m just trying to apologise? Did you think of that?” When Liam didn’t answer, Lindsey shrugged and looked away. “Plus most people would say I owed you.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Lindsey. If I’d known it was you behind this I would have said no.”
“Why do you think I made sure you didn’t?”
Liam shook his head again. “Whatever. If you’re here to apologise then apologise. If you’re here for something else, spit it out.”
Lindsey hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’m sorry. And I mean that. I did a horrible thing and I don’t blame you for hating me.”
He paused and then lowered his voice. “Look, I’m not gay.” He blushed when Liam snorted. “Ok, I’ve been with men but it was never serious, just fooling around. Who doesn’t? It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You keep telling yourself that. Not that I really care, it’s your damn river not mine.” At Lindsey’s blank look Liam shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t hate you, Lindsey, I just really dislike you. But if it makes you feel better then ok, I forgive you. Water under the bridge.” He turned away. “Have a nice life.”
“Wait!” Lindsey grabbed his arm, turning him around. “Look, I did this, all of this, for you. Because I felt bad about what happened but also because you have talent and… and I still care about you. Can’t we…?”
“What? Be friends? Kiss and make up? I don’t think so, Linds. In fact, I think I’ll be going now.”
He tried to pull away but Lindsey tightened his hold on his arm, keeping him still. “You can’t leave your own opening party.”
“No? Watch me.” He scanned the room for Spike, still not finding him anywhere. Damn. Trust Spike to ruin his dramatic exit.
“Let me at least take you out for a drink.” Lindsey grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “My hotel is just a few blocks-” His words were abruptly cut off as he was jerked away and punched to the floor with such force that he skid across it for a couple of feet.
“I think he said he was leaving,” Spike said casually and stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it up. “You alright, luv?” he added as an afterthought. His eyes were still on Lindsey, who was wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, but his right hand, now bruised with split knuckles, reached over to rest on the small of Liam’s back.
“Spike!” Liam hissed, not sure what he was more horrified by; Spike punching Lindsey, his sponsor, in front of all these guests, or the fact that he was smoking inside one of New York’s finest art galleries. “What the hell are you doing?”
Spike just raised his eyebrow at him and blew out a ring of smoke. “You promised to fuck me in the restroom. I’ve been waiting. Remember that deal we made?” He stuck the cigarette between his pinched lips and moved both hands down as if to unbutton his jeans.
Liam stared at him and then he suddenly burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the few that hadn’t already turned to gaze at the display. “You…!” He sucked in his breath between gasps of laughter. “Jesus Christ! I can’t believe you just did that. God, I love you.”
Spike froze. Then he slowly raised his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he removed the cigarette. “Yeah?”
“Yes. I do.” The grin softened and Liam gazed at Spike lovingly. “I really, really do.”
He took Spike’s hand and drew him closer, eyes locked with his. His hands moved up to Spike’s face, enveloping it gently, and then he bowed his head and softly kissed him. Spike’s arms instinctively came up around Liam’s waist, pulling him even tighter, the cigarette tumbling from his fingers to the floor in a rain of red sparks. He opened his mouth, allowing Liam to slip his tongue inside as he breathed a happy sigh. He was warm in Liam’s arms, his mouth tasting of champagne and chocolate strawberries and the slightest hint of tobacco. When Liam’s fingers curled around Spike’s ears he whimpered softly, his breath hitching, and Liam felt happier than he could ever remember feeling in his whole life.
He was vaguely aware of people watching them, some chuckling, others talking in hushed voices, and he more sensed than saw Lindsey get to his feet and being dragged away by Cordy. There would probably be hell to pay for this. Sales and reviews might be withdrawn, Lindsey’s sponsoring money would all likely disappear and they’d lose the apartment. Cordy would string him up by his balls.
At this very moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. At all.
When Liam finally pulled away and opened his eyes he found Spike gazing up at him with such happiness it made his heart clench, especially when his whole face split into the most glorious smile Liam had ever seen. The crowd had dispersed now that the initial drama was over and for all he cared they could have been the only two people in the whole world. Liam rubbed his thumb over Spike’s kiss-swollen lips and smiled.
“You ready to get out of here?”
Spike nodded. “Yeah.” They started to move toward the door when he stopped and slipped from under Liam’s arm. “Hang on.”
For a moment Liam though he was going back to punch Lindsey again but Spike had more important things in mind. He snagged an un-open bottle of champagne from under the table of hourse d’ouvres and swaggered back, swinging it triumphantly. “Now we can go.”
Liam laughed and pulled him in, kissing the top of his head. “Trust you to keep your priorities straight.”
They made out in the cab on the way home and were already undressing each other before they were halfway up to the apartment. They stumbled out of the elevator, Liam dragging Spike along by his tie, and crashed into the opposite wall, kissing like crazy. Liam fumbled with the keys as he pulled Spike toward the door to their apartment, unlocked it and shoved Spike inside before slamming the door behind them.
“Wanna fuck you so bad.”
“Yeah. Fuck yeah.” Spike was gasping, the tie tightening around his neck as Liam twisted it around his fist. “Do it. Fuck me, Liam. C’mon.”
They never even made it to the bedroom. Liam bent Spike over the kitchen table, holding him in place with the tie strangling his neck and his hips pushing Spike’s thighs apart. He tugged at Spike’s jeans, popping the button and pulling down the zipper so hard the denim creaked in protest. Spike was gripping the edges of the table, his knuckles turning white as he held on tight. Liam pushed the jeans down and lifted the bottom of Spike’s shirt then sank down on his hunches to lick the pale cheeks. He could hear Spike strangled grunting and let the tie slacken slightly.
“Love your ass. Fuck, you taste so good.” He tugged on the tie once more, just to hear Spike whimper and then let go of it to cup Spike’s cheeks in his hands instead, spreading them open with his thumbs. “Gonna fuck you with my tongue, Will.”
He licked over the exposed entrance, moaning when Spike jerked away only to then eagerly push back a second later. He didn’t waste more time but wiggled his tongue inside, loving how the tight muscle slowly loosened and opened up to let him further in. Spike was whimpering above him, legs spread as far apart as the jeans would let him, pushing his ass back to urge Liam deeper. When Liam finally pulled away his face was wet and Spike was trembling. His knees suddenly buckled and he would have crumbled to the floor if it hadn’t been for Liam holding him up.
“Want me to fuck you here or on the bed? Tell me what you want,” he growled in Spike’s ear, wiping his face clean on the white shirt. His fingers tightened around the tie and he pulled Spike back by the neck. “Tell me!”
“Fuck me here. Hard. Wanna feel it.” The voice was hoarse, shallow pants rasping through the abused throat.
“Yeah. Yeah, baby.” Liam undid his own pants and let them fall down to pool around his ankles as he reached for a bottle of olive oil on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” he growled as he popped the cap open and poured the golden liquid over his cock. It dripped on the floor and his shoes and when he pushed Spike’s shirt further up on his back it left yellow fingerprints on the white cotton.
He slipped one finger inside first, slicking Spike up with the oil, before pulling out and pushing his cock in. It was tight after such little preparation but Spike didn’t complain, just tightened his hold on the table and pushed back, trying to get him deeper.
“That good? Fuck, you’re so tight. So damn tight.”
“You… always talk… so much?” Spike stuttered, his right hand slipping on the table, making the tie tighten even further around his neck and his eyes bulged. Liam quickly moved to loosen it but Spike shook his head and just closed his eyes, swaying slightly. “Come on, fuck me before I pass out.”
Liam sucked in his breath and wrapped one arm around Spike’s waist to keep the table from digging into his stomach before starting to slam into him with all his force. Spike let out a strangled yell and his knees buckled again, leaving it to Liam to hold him up as he fucked him hard and fast. There was no way he’d last long, not with Spike’s rasped gasps for breath getting shallower and shallower as his head got lighter, and he wrapped his fingers around Spike’s cock, stroking it hard. Spike cried out and then he was coating Liam’s fingers with his come and that was all Liam needed. He bit down onto Spike’s shoulders, muffling his own cry as he came violently.
He didn’t even get a few seconds to recuperate before he was grabbing for Spike, keeping him from crashing to the floor. His head lolled back on his neck, face dark-red and his breathing laboured. Cursing Liam loosened the tie and lowered Spike down to the floor. Too far, he’d gone too far.
“Will, come on. Shit. Will, wake up.”
Spike’s eyes blinked slowly open and he gazed blurrily up at Liam before smiling tiredly. “Bloody hell, that was incredible!”
“Jesus! You scared the crap out of me.” Liam sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Spike sat slowly up, one hand coming up to stroke his abused neck. He coughed and grimaced and Liam winced in sympathy and guilt.
Spike caught his hand and kissed his fingers. “Hey, don’t. I mean it. You have no idea how bloody erotic it is.” He shuffled over to lean his back against the fridge, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Your head starts pounding and the blood is rushing in your ears and then everything starts to feel so light, like you’re floating. And if you come in that moment it’s like…” He smiled softly. “There’s a reason why the French call an orgasm ‘la petite mort,’ luv.”
“Well, I’m not risking it becoming ‘la grande mort,’ Spike,” Liam said, his voice shaking. “Seriously, I could have killed you.”
Spike shrugged and grinned. “But what a way to go, eh?”
“It’s not funny.” Liam swallowed and stood up slowly. His legs felt weak and he gripped the table for support. “I get that you like it. Hell, it turns me on like nothing else doing it to you, but we’ve got to have some rules. Got to make sure it doesn’t go to far.”
Spike studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, ok. Fair enough.”
He reached up and Liam grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. They stood holding on to each other for a while, both rather unsteady. Spike’s jeans were still around his knees, the shirt rumpled and stained with come. Liam’s pants were kicked to the side along with his shoes and he couldn’t even remember doing it.
“I just realised something,” Spike suddenly said against Liam’s chest.
“What?”
“We didn’t use a condom and now my arse is all squishy.” Spike shifted and grimaced. “And I’ve got come and God knows what else running down my thighs. Eurgh. Think I need to take a shower.”
Liam froze. “I didn’t even think…” He pulled away and stared at Spike. “Fuck. If you want me to get tested, I will. I mean, I haven’t been with anyone else for over six months and I did get tested right after that because I always do every year but…”
“Liam, relax. That’s not what I meant. I’m not worried about that.”
“Well, you should be worried about it. Hell, I should. Have you been tested recently?” Liam groaned. “I can’t believe we never talked about this.”
With a scowl Spike pushed away from him. “You really think I’d get into a relationship with someone without making sure I’m clean? You think I don’t know this can happen when you’re too far gone to stop and there’s no rubber at hand? I’m not stupid, you know. Got tested as soon as we got here.”
“But you didn’t know if I was clean,” Liam argued.
“’Course I did.” Spike smirked. “You write everything down in your journal, including doctor’s appointments.”
“You read my journal?” Liam could feel himself growing more and more irritated.
Spike shrugged. “Well, yeah.” Then seemed to notice Liam’s annoyance and backed slowly away, hitching up his pants. “You left it on the bedside table and I was bored. I only wanted to see what you’d written about me.”
“It was private, Spike. I trusted you to leave it alone.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, ok? Didn’t think it was a big deal. Maybe you shouldn’t trust me,” he added sullenly when Liam only glared at him.
“Maybe I won’t from now on,” Liam shot back.
They stood glaring at each other, so caught up in their fight that when the phone suddenly rang they both jumped. Liam grabbed the phone and angrily pushed the button, growling a “Yes?”
“Erm…” The voice on the other side sounded hesitant. “I’m looking for William Giles and was told I could find him in this number.”
“There’s no…” Liam started then stopped and straightened up, fixing his eyes on Spike. “William… Giles?”
Spike froze, the red marks on his throat standing out even more as his face paled. “Who is it?” he whispered.
“Who is this?” Liam asked into the phone, moving closer to put a hand on Spike’s shoulder.
“I’m his father, Rupert. Are you Liam Willard?”
“Yes. You’re his father?” Spike turned away, wrenching free from Liam’s grip, and stormed into the living room, leaving Liam to stare dazedly after him. “You’re Spike’s father?”
“Ah. I’ve obviously found the right address.” The man sounded relieved. “Please tell me, is he there? Can I talk to him?”
“Hang on a minute. How did you get this phone number?”
The man sighed in frustration. “Mr. Willard, are you aware that William has been reported missing for over two years?” The voice on the other end broke slightly but quickly recovered. “I could have you arrested for kidnapping and I most certainly will if you don’t let me speak to my son.”
“Mr. Giles, calm down.” Liam lowered his voice, trying to keep it steady. “I realise that you’re upset but there’s no reason to take that approach. First off, I only met your son three weeks ago so I can hardly be held responsible for him going missing. Second, even if I’ve been urging him to call you ever since he told me of how he left England without a word, as he’s over eighteen it’s entirely up to him if he chooses to speak to you or not.”
“Over eighteen?” The voice on the other end went silent for a moment and when it came back it shook slightly. “Mr. Willard, my son won’t turn eighteen for another six months. Will you now please put him on?”
Liam stood still, his fingers cramping around the phone. “Hold on,” he finally said and walked slowly into the living room. Spike was standing by the window, staring down at the lit street below. He didn’t look up when Liam handed him the phone, just took it and turned away, walking down the hall and disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Liam sank down on the couch, staring blankly at the black television screen. After a moment he looked down and flinched when he realised he was still naked from the waist down. He stumbled to his feet and went into the kitchen, retrieving his pants and underwear from the floor and put them on with shaky hands. Then he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting it open and gulping down half of its content before sliding to the floor in defeat.
Christ, what the hell had he got himself into? He was living with an underage kid, having sex with an underage kid. Kinky, dirty perverted sex. Hell, he’d almost strangled him just a few minutes ago. His fingers were still sticky with Spike’s come, his cock smeared with olive oil from when he fucked him hard in the ass. A kid. A seventeen year old kid.
His head felt light and he let it drop back against the wall and closed his eyes.
He didn’t know what to do or think or feel. Spike was still Spike. Still the annoying brat that called him a wanker and a twit, still the one who laughed at Liam’s jokes and smirked when Liam didn’t get his, still the one who curled up to him at night and kissed him in the middle of the shopping street. Still the young man Liam fell in love with. He was just two years younger. Did it matter? Aside from the legal aspect, did it really matter to him?
He didn’t know.
If he’d known from the beginning, would he have started this relationship? Hadn’t that been exactly why he didn’t make a move at first because he thought Spike was too young? And now it turned out that he was. Christ, Spike was nine years younger than him. Nine years. Which meant that when Liam was himself seventeen, Spike was an eight year old boy with scrapes on his knees and baby-fat cheeks. The thought made his stomach turn. He felt old and dirty and so fucking perverted. He could easily be stamped a paedophile.
A soft cough made him open his eyes to find Spike leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him. His eyes were rimmed red, with wet eyelashes, and his face was pale apart from two dark pink spots on his cheeks and a rather red nose.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. His voice was still hoarse from before and Liam felt slightly sick. “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, you should have.” Liam swallowed. “Christ, Will, what were you thinking?”
Spike looked away, his lower lip trembling. “That you’d make me go back or… or that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”
His shoulders tensed and he seemed to curl in on himself as if he was expecting Liam to tell him just that. Liam opened his mouth to reassure him that nothing had changed but frankly, he didn’t know himself if it had or not so he closed it again. His head was starting to hurt.
“You realise I could get charged with statutory rape?”
Spike’s head jerked up and he stared at Liam in shock. “What?”
Liam sighed. “You’re underage, Spike. Your father could easily have me arrested for having sex with a minor.”
“I’m not…! It’s sixteen in England!”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s eighteen here.” Liam rubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not blaming you. I get it, I really do. And for what it’s worth you seem old enough to me to be able to make that decision. But legally we’re screwed and your father pretty much has me by the balls.”
“But you… you still want me? Right?” Spike’s voice was hardly above a whisper and when Liam looked up he saw his eyes were wide with fear. Liam took a deep breath and then he reached out for Spike, pulling him down to kneel beside him.
“Yeah. Christ, I know it’s wrong but I meant what I said. I love you.” He kissed Spike softly on the lips and then pulled him closer, hugging him tight. “Fuck, I love you so much. How am I supposed to be without you?”
“I love you too,” Spike hiccupped in his ear. “I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t know we would… I never expected this to happen.”
“I know. I know. It’s okay.”
They sat there for a long time, Liam stroking Spike’s hair slowly as he shook in his arms. Somehow he had to work this out.
“What did your dad say?” Liam finally asked softly. “What does he want you to do?”
“He wants me to come home but I said I no. I told him about you and that… that I love you. I told him I’m not leaving you.”
“And what did he say?”
“Well, he was a bit surprised by that, seeing as he didn’t know I was gay,” Spike snorted and Liam couldn’t help chuckling. Spike gave him a hesitant smile but then his face fell and he looked away. “He wanted to know if you were… if I was… You know.”
Liam furrowed his brow in puzzlement. “What?”
“You know.” Spike was red in the face and suddenly seemed to find the tiles on the floor incredibly fascinating. “If I was your... You know.”
The more often Spike said ‘you know’ the more stupid Liam felt. “Huh?”
Spike groaned in frustration. “He thought maybe you’d found me on the streets and bought me, ok?” He rolled his eyes. “Christ, even my own father! What the hell is it about me that screams ‘I’m a boy-whore, ask me how’?”
Liam stared at him in shock. “He said what? That I… what? Where the hell did he get that from?”
“Seems a friend of his saw a picture of you in some newspaper’s art section, taken while you were putting together your exhibition. And recognised me standing in the background. The caption read “Liam Willard and his young protégé.”
Liam frowned. “Protégé? Why the hell protégé?”
“Beats me. Anyway he knew I’d never raised a paintbrush in my life so when I told him we were together he cleverly drew the conclusion that I was in fact your little bum-boy and that he had to save me from your evil perverted clutches.” Spike grimaced. “I don’t think he likes you very much.”
“O-oka-ay.” Liam blinked. “He was quite calm when talking to me.”
“Well, that’s my dad for you. He’d offer you tea and crackers and then, while your happily swallowing it down, he’d calmly tell you he’d actually just given you rat poison and would you like some more tea before you die a horrible painful death?”
“Funny. Er… You are joking, right?”
“Am I?” Spike quirked his eyebrow. “He used to be MI5, you know, but had to retire when his vision failed. He once told me he knew fifteen different ways to kill a man and make it look like a suicide.”
“Not… rat poison?” Liam gulped.
“Know how many people stupidly store rat poison right by their cereal?” Spike shrugged. “Accidents happen.”
“Ok, stop it. Your dad is not going to kill me with rat poison. Besides he’s in England so unless he mails the damn tea....”
Spike squirmed. “Yeah, that’s the other thing. He’s on his way over here.”
Liam jumped up, staring down at him. “What?! Now?!”
“Er… tomorrow?” Spike said sheepishly. “He’ll be at the airport around noon.”
“Jesus!” Liam let himself fall down in a kitchen chair, his head in his hands. “God, we’re so screwed.”
Spike stood up slowly and walked over to him, resting his chin on the top of Liam’s head, his arms wrapped around Liam’s neck. “Hey. It’s gonna be alright. He’ll meet you and see how much you love me and everything will be fine.”
“Spike,” Liam sighed. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”
“What?” Spike glanced at the window, trying to catch his reflection.
“What? You’ve got bruises covering your whole throat. Unless you plan to wear a turtleneck there’s no way he won’t see it and he’ll have my ass thrown in jail just like that.” Liam snapped his fingers.
“Oh. Bugger. We’re screwed.”
Liam nodded glumly. “Yep.”
“Maybe we can run away…”
“No.”
“Or I can tell him I got mugged and left tied up by my neck.”
Liam snorted. “He’ll believe that, right.”
“Or hey! That I got so depressed because people kept calling me a whore that I tried to hang myself.” Spike turned Liam around and slid down to sit on his lap. “And then you saved me in the nick of time, my knight in shining armour.”
Liam couldn’t help smiling, despite everything. “I thought we were trying to show that you’re happy with me, not suicidal.”
“Well, we could always just tell him that we like kinky sex.” Spike smirked and raised his eyebrow. “We could show him the video tapes.”
“God, you’re not even joking, are you?” Liam groaned. “Could this day really get any worse?”
“It’s not all been bad,” Spike argued with a pout. “There was your opening party.”
“Where you punched my sponsor slash ex-boyfriend,” Liam pointed out.
“Was that who he was?” Spike frowned. “I thought he was just one of your groupies that didn’t take no for an answer. Whatever.” He waved it impatiently away. “Then there was fabulous sex.”
“Where I almost strangled you to death and forgot to use a condom and…”
Spike shut him up with a quick kiss. “And last but not least, you told me you loved me. And then I said I loved you too.”
“Well…” Liam couldn’t really find anything to counterpoint that. “Yeah, ok. That was pretty nice.”
“See? When you look at it like that it’s the best day ever.” Spike kissed him again and then stood up. “I’m gonna take a shower. Want to join me?”
“We need to form a strategy. Figure out what to say and do when your dad gets here. And for all I know my sponsorship is gone and Cordy will shut down the exhibition and we’ll lose the apartment and…”
“Liam! I said: ‘I’m gonna take a shower. Want to join me?’” When Liam opened his mouth to argue Spike shushed him with a finger. “Me. Naked. In the shower. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
Oh. “Oh.” Liam smiled. “No, I think I’ve got it.”
Panicking would have to wait.
Conclusion in part 3b
Title: On The Road To Somewhere 3/3
Author: felisblanco
Fandom: BtVS/AtS
Pairing: Liam/Spike, Liam/Lindsey
Word count: This part a little over 13.000 words
Warnings: Breathplay, biting, mild bondage
Summary: AU Human. A promising young artist named Liam is on his way to New York to open his first big exhibition when he comes upon Spike, a runaway teen that's stranded with a busted motorbike by the side of the road.
Author's Note: This was written for spring_spangel. Dedicated to hellziggy.*smooch* Unbeta'd.
Earlier parts here.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected it to be like, living with Spike. Well, he’d had an inkling Spike might be a slob, like most teenage boys, but after grumbling about wet towels on the floor and dirty underwear stuck in between the cushions of the couch for the hundredth time, he decided it wasn’t worth the aggravation and resigned to only griping every other time instead.
The thing was that they were incredibly different.
Spike liked to stay up late while Liam preferred to settle in early, and he liked to sleep in while Liam was up at the crack of dawn. Spike ate burgers and fries and gulped down beer and caffeinated sodas while Liam insisted on light meals and drank wine or water. Spike yelled at the TV while watching sports and soaps. Liam closed himself off in the bedroom, reading nineteenth century novels. He painted and planned the exhibition at the gallery. Spike got a part-time job at a small vintage record store and blasted British punk whenever he was left in charge.
His first paycheck he used to first pay Liam back what he owed him and then to buy cigarettes. He lit up with such a look on ecstasy on his face that Liam asked him why he hadn’t borrowed money to buy some before, to which Spike replied that he was a whore for many things but fags were his own treat. And then had a laughing fit as Liam blushed and asked, “Fags? You mean like … boys?” Liam got his revenge by banning all smoking inside the apartment, a rule he broke himself by reaching for one the next night when they lay panting and sweaty in bed. “Post-coital smoking doesn’t count,” he argued and Spike told him to buy his own bloody smokes then because he couldn’t afford Liam bumming him for one “every couple of hours.”
So there were differences and arguing, teasing and testing each other’s boundaries. The usual ritual people go through when moving in together. But in general they got along amazingly well.
First of all, the sex was fabulous. There was no other word for it. Liam couldn’t remember ever having so much sex, let alone such great sex. Such mind-blowing, adventurous, and kinky sex, to be exact. They tested each other out carefully, finding out kinks and likes they never knew they had, and ruled out others in the process. It was fun and exciting and at times weird and awkward but they learned to read each other, knowing which lines could be crossed and which shouldn’t.
They liked bondage and biting and breathplay but Spike couldn’t stand being gagged and Liam shied away from spanking. Spike had disliked Liam calling him a kid until one night when he counteracted by sarcastically calling Liam ‘daddy’ and Liam almost came in his pants. After that he used it relentlessly. Liam had a sweet tooth, constantly wanting to lick chocolate and cream and other sweet things of Spike’s body. Spike poured tequila on Liam’s belly and licked salt of his chest then kissed him with lime between his teeth. Spike loved public display of affection and after a while Liam got used to it, even started to like it to the extent that he kept trying to find new ways to surprise Spike with kisses and touches.
Second, they actually enjoyed bickering. Possibly influenced by the fact that getting riled up turned Spike on like nothing else and when he ran out of argument he shut Liam up by sticking his tongue down his throat and his hands down Liam’s pants. And really, Liam was fine with giving up whatever he had been fighting so vigorously for, if it meant he got an orgasm instead.
Third, and that was probably the most important part, whatever they were feeling about this thing they had going, it was more real than either of them had felt for anyone before. They hadn’t exactly put words to it but Liam would catch this look in Spike’s eyes that made him hitch his breath and sometimes when he thought about Spike while painting he would stop and stare into space, just overwhelmed with these feelings that he was slightly afraid to analyze.
The only thing they’d really fought about was Spike’s refusal to call his father. He claimed there was no point, that they had nothing to say to each other and it would all just end up a big mess. Liam didn’t agree but since he didn’t have any idea where Spike’s father lived in England or even his name, there was very little he could do. That still didn’t keep him from bringing it up as often as he could without risking Spike storming out in a huff. Which he still did a few times but he always came back after a couple of hours and they made up in all the best ways possible. Liam hoped that with time he would be able to convince Spike to relent and at least send his old man a postcard.
As the date of the grand opening of his exhibition grew nearer Liam found himself getting more and more nervous. He’d held small shows before but nothing of this standard. It had first been scheduled to open a week after his arrival but had to be pushed back as the gallery suffered some water damage. As it was the big day wasn’t until they’d been in New York for three weeks and he was starting to get impatient.
-----
It was a beautiful evening on the first Saturday of June when he straightened his tie and looked critically over himself in the mirror. He probably should go for more trendy clothes, seeing as some of the biggest names of New York’s more bohemian world were expected to drop by, but he’d never really had any fashion sense and he’d rather feel comfortable in his own clothes than awkward in something flashy that the gallery could pick out for him.
There was a soft cough behind him and he turned around to find Spike watching him with an appreciative smile.
“You look great, luv.” He twitched his nose. “Old and boring, but great.”
“Haha, funny.” Liam turned back to the mirror, frowning. “Really? Boring?”
He saw Spike’s reflection smile at him. “Nah. Classy. Sophisticated.”
“Boring,” Liam admitted with a sigh. “What are you wearing?”
“Me?” Spike straightened up, licking his lips uncertainly. “You want me to come?”
Liam swung around, staring at him. “Of course. Why, you don’t want to?”
Spike ducked his head, shifting awkwardly. “Well, yeah. ‘Course I do. You just never said so I… I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d rather I didn’t.”
Liam blinked. Had he really never said anything about it? Damn. He walked up to Spike and kissed him, a slow gentle kiss that still had his heart speeding up. Then he pulled back and smiled. “Can’t show up without a date, can I?”
Spike did a miserable job of hiding his relief. “Better not. Some pansy artist might make a move on you. Or worse, a woman!” His cheeks were slightly flushed as he stalked over to the closet and threw the door open. “I’m not wearing a suit though. Never liked ties. They’re like a bloody noose around the neck.”
Liam walked up behind him and let his hand slide up to his throat, squeezing lightly. “And here I thought you liked being strangled.”
Spike sucked in his breath, pressing his backside hard against Liam’s erection. “When you put it like that…”
“How about you wear the striped jeans and the white shirt under the black jacket? Casual but nice. And I’ll let you borrow one of my ties.”
Spike swallowed, his throat contracting beneath Liam’s palm. “If you’re using my kink just to make me wear a tie, I’m gonna get drunk on champagne and moon the elite crowd at your show.”
“Don’t think they’re expecting that kind of exhibition,” Liam chuckled softly and bit down on Spike’s earlobe. “Wear it, don’t wear it, I don’t care. But if you do wear it I’ll fuck you in the restroom. Wrapping the tie around my fist.”
“Fuck!” Spike turned around and smashed their lips together, kissing Liam until they both had to jerk away for air. “Christ. When we gotta be there? Because I need you. Right the fuck now!”
Liam closed his eyes for a second and then kissed Spike again, gentler this time. “Don’t. We can’t. Cordy said to be there at six or she’d have my hide.”
Spike groaned and reluctantly pulled away. “Well, she can’t have it, cause it’s mine.” He pouted. “That woman is a bloody tyrant, you know? She orders you around like a dog.”
“She’s good at what she does,” Liam argued although he kind of agreed with him. The gallery manager was quite pushy, definitely one used to people following her orders.
“Yeah, I guess. She’s also got a nice rack,” Spike added with a leer.
“Spike!”
“What?” Spike rolled his eyes and pulled out the clothes Liam had suggested, throwing them on the bed. “It’s kinda hard to miss, with all the cleavage she keeps shoving in my face every time I pop by.”
Liam snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, she does that to everybody. Even me.”
“I noticed.”
Spike voice was strangely flat and Liam gave him a puzzled look. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” Spike shrugged. “Just figured you’d never told ‘em, ‘bout you being gay. Thought maybe that was why…” He turned away, snatching the jeans of the bed. “Forget it.”
Liam grabbed his arm, swinging him around. “No. You thought maybe that was why what?”
Spike shook him off. “Thought maybe that was why you hadn’t invited me but now you have so it doesn’t matter, alright?” He tugged on his jeans and buttoned them up with an air of irritation.
“Look, I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t realise I hadn’t formally invited you.” Liam ran his fingers tiredly through his hair. “I thought you knew I expected you to be there. As my date.”
“Yeah? Well, I didn’t.” Spike pulled on the white shirt and buttoned it up. “What with you always introducing me to all your artsy friends as ‘my friend William.’ Hate that name, by the way,” he added with a scowl. “There’s a reason why I don’t use it.”
Liam just stared at him. “You never said. I didn’t… It just felt a bit weird introducing you as Spike and I never use Will except… you know.” He blushed. “You should have said something.”
Spike sighed and went to dig through the drawers, pulling out a pair of socks. “Not gonna throw a tantrum over a name, am I? It’s my name. I just don’t like it.” He sat down on the bed and pulled the socks on. “Makes me feel like I’m back in school, feeling stupid and all wrong. They used to pick on me, you know? Push me around and call me names. Calling me queer.” He gave a short laugh. “I had to ask my mum what it meant, fancy that?”
Liam watched him warily. “I’m sorry. Must have been hard.”
“Not your fault.” Spike shrugged and stood up. “Anyway, it was a long time ago.”
Not that long. Liam was once again reminded of how young Spike actually was. Sometimes he even wondered if Spike had lied to him, if perhaps he was younger than he said but then other times Spike discussed politics and world events in such a way that made him seem a lot older. To tell the truth, for all their long talks and intimacy he didn’t actually know that much about Spike.
“I’m still sorry.” He picked up the black jacket and held it up for Spike, straightening it on his shoulders when he’d shrugged it on. “And yes, she knows I’m gay. And she knows you’re my boyfriend.” He stopped, hands still on Spike’s shoulders. “You are, right?”
Spike gazed up at him and this time there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Well, if I’m not there’s a whole lot of shagging been going on that needs explaining.”
“Right.” Liam laughed awkwardly. “Boyfriend it is then. Glad we cleared that up.”
“Good.” Spike started flicking through the rack of ties, scrunching up his nose in disdain at every one of them. “Hey, what’s weird about the name Spike?”
“Nothing. Except for it not being, you know, a “real” name. More like a dog’s name.”
“Oi! It’s not! Spike Lee, heard of him? And that guy in the Nothing Hill movie with Hugh Grant?”
“I don’t think that was his real name either. And Spike Lee’s real name is Shelton, I think. Where did you pick it up anyway?”
Spike blushed and studied the ties with avid interest. “Wasmcat,” he finally muttered.
“What?”
“It was my cat, alright? Don’t laugh!”
“I’m not laughing!” Just… smiling. Out loud.
Spike grumbled and picked a dark-blue tie, looping it around his neck with a grimace. “Hate these fucking things. Don’t even know how to… fuck!” he cursed as he fumbled with the knot.
“Here. Let me.” Liam tied a neat knot, his fingers lingering on Spike’s throat and he smiled as he felt a small shiver run through the boy. “You look good. Absolutely fuckable.”
“I always look fuckable,” Spike quipped and loosened the tie slightly. “You better make good on your promise or I’ll be the one tying you up tonight-”
“Not really seeing that as a bad thing,” Liam interrupted with a smirk.
“And then going to sleep, leaving you trussed up and horny until the morning,” Spike concluded as he walked out of the room and into the bathroom to fix his hair.
“You wouldn’t! Right? Right, Spike? Spike…”
--------------------------
He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected but surely nothing like this. There were more elite artists and high-class benefactors crammed into the rather spacious gallery than he had met, or even heard of, his whole life. He didn’t know how Cordy had pulled it off but somehow she had managed to bring his name and art to the attention of all the people who really mattered. He was introduced to people he’d only ever read about before and they were all here to see him and view his art. It was quite mind blowing.
At first Spike had kept by his side, nodding a quiet acknowledgment to those Liam introduced him to, shaking the hands of those few that did more than glance his way. No one seemed bothered by his status as ‘boyfriend’ but then again this wasn’t the sort of crowd that would. A few women gave Liam a disappointed look but that was all.
But Cordy kept tugging Liam along to meet and greet more and more people and soon Spike waved him off with a reassuring smile and slinked away to stand in the corner, a glass of champagne in his hand, stuffing his mouth with chocolate covered strawberries. No one asked his age and Liam figured if he got too drunk then so be it. He was unlikely to start a scene or get Liam into trouble in any way. Liam just hoped he wasn’t too bored.
“Oh great! Finally!” Cordy tugged at his arm and pulled him away from a reporter from the Art in America magazine who’d been hanging on his arm, touching him way more than he thought necessary. “He’s here.”
Liam stumbled slightly as he swept his eyes across the room, trying to find Spike to make sure he was not passed out or mooning people. Or worse, gone.
“Who?” he asked absently.
“Your sponsor. Now just smile and be nice and please don’t tell that story of your art teacher again. It’s very sweet but very boring and if more people start yawning we’ll have to buy more champagne.”
Liam frowned at her. “It’s not bor-”
“Ah, Mr. McDonald! So glad you could make it.”
Liam’s head snapped up so fast he’d feel dizzy if he wasn’t too busy staring at the man standing in front of him, a lazy smile on his face.
“Hello there, Lee.”
Cordy blinked and then stared at Liam before looking back at Lindsey. “You two know each other?”
“Old friends,” Lindsey drawled and put out his hand, waiting for Liam to take it. “Ain’t that right, Liam?”
“Right. Friends.” Liam dazedly accepted the offer, the feel of Lindsey’s hand in his so familiar and still so foreign. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“Didn’t think you’d accept it if you did.”
“I probably wouldn’t have, no.”
Cordy’s face went from puzzled to worried and she licked her lips, waving at a waiter to come over with a tray of glasses. “Well, this is a nice surprise. Champagne?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Lindsey took two glasses and offered one to Liam. “Too old times and new beginnings.”
Liam took the glass with a nod and sipped from it slowly. He honestly had no idea what to say. He’d been angry with the man for so long but everything was different now. It still hurt, he still felt betrayed, especially when Lindsey just stood there, smiling, as if nothing had happened.
But he’d been so happy the last three weeks, with Spike, that the past seemed insignificant in comparison. In fact, he probably wouldn’t even have met Spike if it hadn’t been for Lindsey and all that had gone down because of him.
Cordy smiled at Lindsey, gave Liam a warning glare, and then she was off to flirt with more important people, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors.
“You look good,” Lindsey finally said, tilting his head and smirking in a way that Liam had always found so sexy before.
“You look older,” Liam answered, unable to keep the cold out of his voice. “How’s Buffy?”
Lindsey’s face tightened. “Good. Home, taking care of the kids.”
Liam nodded. “Got many?”
“Two. A boy and a girl.” Lindsey stared at him challengingly but Liam only nodded again and after a moment’s silence Lindsey sighed. “Look, I know we didn’t part on the best of terms but…” He stopped when Liam laughed coldly. “Ok, maybe that’s an understatement.”
Liam shook his head in disbelief. “What do you want? Why did you do this, sponsor me? What did you hope to accomplish from all this?”
“Who says I want anything? Maybe I’m just trying to apologise? Did you think of that?” When Liam didn’t answer, Lindsey shrugged and looked away. “Plus most people would say I owed you.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Lindsey. If I’d known it was you behind this I would have said no.”
“Why do you think I made sure you didn’t?”
Liam shook his head again. “Whatever. If you’re here to apologise then apologise. If you’re here for something else, spit it out.”
Lindsey hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’m sorry. And I mean that. I did a horrible thing and I don’t blame you for hating me.”
He paused and then lowered his voice. “Look, I’m not gay.” He blushed when Liam snorted. “Ok, I’ve been with men but it was never serious, just fooling around. Who doesn’t? It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You keep telling yourself that. Not that I really care, it’s your damn river not mine.” At Lindsey’s blank look Liam shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t hate you, Lindsey, I just really dislike you. But if it makes you feel better then ok, I forgive you. Water under the bridge.” He turned away. “Have a nice life.”
“Wait!” Lindsey grabbed his arm, turning him around. “Look, I did this, all of this, for you. Because I felt bad about what happened but also because you have talent and… and I still care about you. Can’t we…?”
“What? Be friends? Kiss and make up? I don’t think so, Linds. In fact, I think I’ll be going now.”
He tried to pull away but Lindsey tightened his hold on his arm, keeping him still. “You can’t leave your own opening party.”
“No? Watch me.” He scanned the room for Spike, still not finding him anywhere. Damn. Trust Spike to ruin his dramatic exit.
“Let me at least take you out for a drink.” Lindsey grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “My hotel is just a few blocks-” His words were abruptly cut off as he was jerked away and punched to the floor with such force that he skid across it for a couple of feet.
“I think he said he was leaving,” Spike said casually and stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it up. “You alright, luv?” he added as an afterthought. His eyes were still on Lindsey, who was wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, but his right hand, now bruised with split knuckles, reached over to rest on the small of Liam’s back.
“Spike!” Liam hissed, not sure what he was more horrified by; Spike punching Lindsey, his sponsor, in front of all these guests, or the fact that he was smoking inside one of New York’s finest art galleries. “What the hell are you doing?”
Spike just raised his eyebrow at him and blew out a ring of smoke. “You promised to fuck me in the restroom. I’ve been waiting. Remember that deal we made?” He stuck the cigarette between his pinched lips and moved both hands down as if to unbutton his jeans.
Liam stared at him and then he suddenly burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the few that hadn’t already turned to gaze at the display. “You…!” He sucked in his breath between gasps of laughter. “Jesus Christ! I can’t believe you just did that. God, I love you.”
Spike froze. Then he slowly raised his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he removed the cigarette. “Yeah?”
“Yes. I do.” The grin softened and Liam gazed at Spike lovingly. “I really, really do.”
He took Spike’s hand and drew him closer, eyes locked with his. His hands moved up to Spike’s face, enveloping it gently, and then he bowed his head and softly kissed him. Spike’s arms instinctively came up around Liam’s waist, pulling him even tighter, the cigarette tumbling from his fingers to the floor in a rain of red sparks. He opened his mouth, allowing Liam to slip his tongue inside as he breathed a happy sigh. He was warm in Liam’s arms, his mouth tasting of champagne and chocolate strawberries and the slightest hint of tobacco. When Liam’s fingers curled around Spike’s ears he whimpered softly, his breath hitching, and Liam felt happier than he could ever remember feeling in his whole life.
He was vaguely aware of people watching them, some chuckling, others talking in hushed voices, and he more sensed than saw Lindsey get to his feet and being dragged away by Cordy. There would probably be hell to pay for this. Sales and reviews might be withdrawn, Lindsey’s sponsoring money would all likely disappear and they’d lose the apartment. Cordy would string him up by his balls.
At this very moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. At all.
When Liam finally pulled away and opened his eyes he found Spike gazing up at him with such happiness it made his heart clench, especially when his whole face split into the most glorious smile Liam had ever seen. The crowd had dispersed now that the initial drama was over and for all he cared they could have been the only two people in the whole world. Liam rubbed his thumb over Spike’s kiss-swollen lips and smiled.
“You ready to get out of here?”
Spike nodded. “Yeah.” They started to move toward the door when he stopped and slipped from under Liam’s arm. “Hang on.”
For a moment Liam though he was going back to punch Lindsey again but Spike had more important things in mind. He snagged an un-open bottle of champagne from under the table of hourse d’ouvres and swaggered back, swinging it triumphantly. “Now we can go.”
Liam laughed and pulled him in, kissing the top of his head. “Trust you to keep your priorities straight.”
They made out in the cab on the way home and were already undressing each other before they were halfway up to the apartment. They stumbled out of the elevator, Liam dragging Spike along by his tie, and crashed into the opposite wall, kissing like crazy. Liam fumbled with the keys as he pulled Spike toward the door to their apartment, unlocked it and shoved Spike inside before slamming the door behind them.
“Wanna fuck you so bad.”
“Yeah. Fuck yeah.” Spike was gasping, the tie tightening around his neck as Liam twisted it around his fist. “Do it. Fuck me, Liam. C’mon.”
They never even made it to the bedroom. Liam bent Spike over the kitchen table, holding him in place with the tie strangling his neck and his hips pushing Spike’s thighs apart. He tugged at Spike’s jeans, popping the button and pulling down the zipper so hard the denim creaked in protest. Spike was gripping the edges of the table, his knuckles turning white as he held on tight. Liam pushed the jeans down and lifted the bottom of Spike’s shirt then sank down on his hunches to lick the pale cheeks. He could hear Spike strangled grunting and let the tie slacken slightly.
“Love your ass. Fuck, you taste so good.” He tugged on the tie once more, just to hear Spike whimper and then let go of it to cup Spike’s cheeks in his hands instead, spreading them open with his thumbs. “Gonna fuck you with my tongue, Will.”
He licked over the exposed entrance, moaning when Spike jerked away only to then eagerly push back a second later. He didn’t waste more time but wiggled his tongue inside, loving how the tight muscle slowly loosened and opened up to let him further in. Spike was whimpering above him, legs spread as far apart as the jeans would let him, pushing his ass back to urge Liam deeper. When Liam finally pulled away his face was wet and Spike was trembling. His knees suddenly buckled and he would have crumbled to the floor if it hadn’t been for Liam holding him up.
“Want me to fuck you here or on the bed? Tell me what you want,” he growled in Spike’s ear, wiping his face clean on the white shirt. His fingers tightened around the tie and he pulled Spike back by the neck. “Tell me!”
“Fuck me here. Hard. Wanna feel it.” The voice was hoarse, shallow pants rasping through the abused throat.
“Yeah. Yeah, baby.” Liam undid his own pants and let them fall down to pool around his ankles as he reached for a bottle of olive oil on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” he growled as he popped the cap open and poured the golden liquid over his cock. It dripped on the floor and his shoes and when he pushed Spike’s shirt further up on his back it left yellow fingerprints on the white cotton.
He slipped one finger inside first, slicking Spike up with the oil, before pulling out and pushing his cock in. It was tight after such little preparation but Spike didn’t complain, just tightened his hold on the table and pushed back, trying to get him deeper.
“That good? Fuck, you’re so tight. So damn tight.”
“You… always talk… so much?” Spike stuttered, his right hand slipping on the table, making the tie tighten even further around his neck and his eyes bulged. Liam quickly moved to loosen it but Spike shook his head and just closed his eyes, swaying slightly. “Come on, fuck me before I pass out.”
Liam sucked in his breath and wrapped one arm around Spike’s waist to keep the table from digging into his stomach before starting to slam into him with all his force. Spike let out a strangled yell and his knees buckled again, leaving it to Liam to hold him up as he fucked him hard and fast. There was no way he’d last long, not with Spike’s rasped gasps for breath getting shallower and shallower as his head got lighter, and he wrapped his fingers around Spike’s cock, stroking it hard. Spike cried out and then he was coating Liam’s fingers with his come and that was all Liam needed. He bit down onto Spike’s shoulders, muffling his own cry as he came violently.
He didn’t even get a few seconds to recuperate before he was grabbing for Spike, keeping him from crashing to the floor. His head lolled back on his neck, face dark-red and his breathing laboured. Cursing Liam loosened the tie and lowered Spike down to the floor. Too far, he’d gone too far.
“Will, come on. Shit. Will, wake up.”
Spike’s eyes blinked slowly open and he gazed blurrily up at Liam before smiling tiredly. “Bloody hell, that was incredible!”
“Jesus! You scared the crap out of me.” Liam sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Spike sat slowly up, one hand coming up to stroke his abused neck. He coughed and grimaced and Liam winced in sympathy and guilt.
Spike caught his hand and kissed his fingers. “Hey, don’t. I mean it. You have no idea how bloody erotic it is.” He shuffled over to lean his back against the fridge, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Your head starts pounding and the blood is rushing in your ears and then everything starts to feel so light, like you’re floating. And if you come in that moment it’s like…” He smiled softly. “There’s a reason why the French call an orgasm ‘la petite mort,’ luv.”
“Well, I’m not risking it becoming ‘la grande mort,’ Spike,” Liam said, his voice shaking. “Seriously, I could have killed you.”
Spike shrugged and grinned. “But what a way to go, eh?”
“It’s not funny.” Liam swallowed and stood up slowly. His legs felt weak and he gripped the table for support. “I get that you like it. Hell, it turns me on like nothing else doing it to you, but we’ve got to have some rules. Got to make sure it doesn’t go to far.”
Spike studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, ok. Fair enough.”
He reached up and Liam grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. They stood holding on to each other for a while, both rather unsteady. Spike’s jeans were still around his knees, the shirt rumpled and stained with come. Liam’s pants were kicked to the side along with his shoes and he couldn’t even remember doing it.
“I just realised something,” Spike suddenly said against Liam’s chest.
“What?”
“We didn’t use a condom and now my arse is all squishy.” Spike shifted and grimaced. “And I’ve got come and God knows what else running down my thighs. Eurgh. Think I need to take a shower.”
Liam froze. “I didn’t even think…” He pulled away and stared at Spike. “Fuck. If you want me to get tested, I will. I mean, I haven’t been with anyone else for over six months and I did get tested right after that because I always do every year but…”
“Liam, relax. That’s not what I meant. I’m not worried about that.”
“Well, you should be worried about it. Hell, I should. Have you been tested recently?” Liam groaned. “I can’t believe we never talked about this.”
With a scowl Spike pushed away from him. “You really think I’d get into a relationship with someone without making sure I’m clean? You think I don’t know this can happen when you’re too far gone to stop and there’s no rubber at hand? I’m not stupid, you know. Got tested as soon as we got here.”
“But you didn’t know if I was clean,” Liam argued.
“’Course I did.” Spike smirked. “You write everything down in your journal, including doctor’s appointments.”
“You read my journal?” Liam could feel himself growing more and more irritated.
Spike shrugged. “Well, yeah.” Then seemed to notice Liam’s annoyance and backed slowly away, hitching up his pants. “You left it on the bedside table and I was bored. I only wanted to see what you’d written about me.”
“It was private, Spike. I trusted you to leave it alone.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, ok? Didn’t think it was a big deal. Maybe you shouldn’t trust me,” he added sullenly when Liam only glared at him.
“Maybe I won’t from now on,” Liam shot back.
They stood glaring at each other, so caught up in their fight that when the phone suddenly rang they both jumped. Liam grabbed the phone and angrily pushed the button, growling a “Yes?”
“Erm…” The voice on the other side sounded hesitant. “I’m looking for William Giles and was told I could find him in this number.”
“There’s no…” Liam started then stopped and straightened up, fixing his eyes on Spike. “William… Giles?”
Spike froze, the red marks on his throat standing out even more as his face paled. “Who is it?” he whispered.
“Who is this?” Liam asked into the phone, moving closer to put a hand on Spike’s shoulder.
“I’m his father, Rupert. Are you Liam Willard?”
“Yes. You’re his father?” Spike turned away, wrenching free from Liam’s grip, and stormed into the living room, leaving Liam to stare dazedly after him. “You’re Spike’s father?”
“Ah. I’ve obviously found the right address.” The man sounded relieved. “Please tell me, is he there? Can I talk to him?”
“Hang on a minute. How did you get this phone number?”
The man sighed in frustration. “Mr. Willard, are you aware that William has been reported missing for over two years?” The voice on the other end broke slightly but quickly recovered. “I could have you arrested for kidnapping and I most certainly will if you don’t let me speak to my son.”
“Mr. Giles, calm down.” Liam lowered his voice, trying to keep it steady. “I realise that you’re upset but there’s no reason to take that approach. First off, I only met your son three weeks ago so I can hardly be held responsible for him going missing. Second, even if I’ve been urging him to call you ever since he told me of how he left England without a word, as he’s over eighteen it’s entirely up to him if he chooses to speak to you or not.”
“Over eighteen?” The voice on the other end went silent for a moment and when it came back it shook slightly. “Mr. Willard, my son won’t turn eighteen for another six months. Will you now please put him on?”
Liam stood still, his fingers cramping around the phone. “Hold on,” he finally said and walked slowly into the living room. Spike was standing by the window, staring down at the lit street below. He didn’t look up when Liam handed him the phone, just took it and turned away, walking down the hall and disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Liam sank down on the couch, staring blankly at the black television screen. After a moment he looked down and flinched when he realised he was still naked from the waist down. He stumbled to his feet and went into the kitchen, retrieving his pants and underwear from the floor and put them on with shaky hands. Then he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting it open and gulping down half of its content before sliding to the floor in defeat.
Christ, what the hell had he got himself into? He was living with an underage kid, having sex with an underage kid. Kinky, dirty perverted sex. Hell, he’d almost strangled him just a few minutes ago. His fingers were still sticky with Spike’s come, his cock smeared with olive oil from when he fucked him hard in the ass. A kid. A seventeen year old kid.
His head felt light and he let it drop back against the wall and closed his eyes.
He didn’t know what to do or think or feel. Spike was still Spike. Still the annoying brat that called him a wanker and a twit, still the one who laughed at Liam’s jokes and smirked when Liam didn’t get his, still the one who curled up to him at night and kissed him in the middle of the shopping street. Still the young man Liam fell in love with. He was just two years younger. Did it matter? Aside from the legal aspect, did it really matter to him?
He didn’t know.
If he’d known from the beginning, would he have started this relationship? Hadn’t that been exactly why he didn’t make a move at first because he thought Spike was too young? And now it turned out that he was. Christ, Spike was nine years younger than him. Nine years. Which meant that when Liam was himself seventeen, Spike was an eight year old boy with scrapes on his knees and baby-fat cheeks. The thought made his stomach turn. He felt old and dirty and so fucking perverted. He could easily be stamped a paedophile.
A soft cough made him open his eyes to find Spike leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him. His eyes were rimmed red, with wet eyelashes, and his face was pale apart from two dark pink spots on his cheeks and a rather red nose.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. His voice was still hoarse from before and Liam felt slightly sick. “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, you should have.” Liam swallowed. “Christ, Will, what were you thinking?”
Spike looked away, his lower lip trembling. “That you’d make me go back or… or that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”
His shoulders tensed and he seemed to curl in on himself as if he was expecting Liam to tell him just that. Liam opened his mouth to reassure him that nothing had changed but frankly, he didn’t know himself if it had or not so he closed it again. His head was starting to hurt.
“You realise I could get charged with statutory rape?”
Spike’s head jerked up and he stared at Liam in shock. “What?”
Liam sighed. “You’re underage, Spike. Your father could easily have me arrested for having sex with a minor.”
“I’m not…! It’s sixteen in England!”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s eighteen here.” Liam rubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not blaming you. I get it, I really do. And for what it’s worth you seem old enough to me to be able to make that decision. But legally we’re screwed and your father pretty much has me by the balls.”
“But you… you still want me? Right?” Spike’s voice was hardly above a whisper and when Liam looked up he saw his eyes were wide with fear. Liam took a deep breath and then he reached out for Spike, pulling him down to kneel beside him.
“Yeah. Christ, I know it’s wrong but I meant what I said. I love you.” He kissed Spike softly on the lips and then pulled him closer, hugging him tight. “Fuck, I love you so much. How am I supposed to be without you?”
“I love you too,” Spike hiccupped in his ear. “I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t know we would… I never expected this to happen.”
“I know. I know. It’s okay.”
They sat there for a long time, Liam stroking Spike’s hair slowly as he shook in his arms. Somehow he had to work this out.
“What did your dad say?” Liam finally asked softly. “What does he want you to do?”
“He wants me to come home but I said I no. I told him about you and that… that I love you. I told him I’m not leaving you.”
“And what did he say?”
“Well, he was a bit surprised by that, seeing as he didn’t know I was gay,” Spike snorted and Liam couldn’t help chuckling. Spike gave him a hesitant smile but then his face fell and he looked away. “He wanted to know if you were… if I was… You know.”
Liam furrowed his brow in puzzlement. “What?”
“You know.” Spike was red in the face and suddenly seemed to find the tiles on the floor incredibly fascinating. “If I was your... You know.”
The more often Spike said ‘you know’ the more stupid Liam felt. “Huh?”
Spike groaned in frustration. “He thought maybe you’d found me on the streets and bought me, ok?” He rolled his eyes. “Christ, even my own father! What the hell is it about me that screams ‘I’m a boy-whore, ask me how’?”
Liam stared at him in shock. “He said what? That I… what? Where the hell did he get that from?”
“Seems a friend of his saw a picture of you in some newspaper’s art section, taken while you were putting together your exhibition. And recognised me standing in the background. The caption read “Liam Willard and his young protégé.”
Liam frowned. “Protégé? Why the hell protégé?”
“Beats me. Anyway he knew I’d never raised a paintbrush in my life so when I told him we were together he cleverly drew the conclusion that I was in fact your little bum-boy and that he had to save me from your evil perverted clutches.” Spike grimaced. “I don’t think he likes you very much.”
“O-oka-ay.” Liam blinked. “He was quite calm when talking to me.”
“Well, that’s my dad for you. He’d offer you tea and crackers and then, while your happily swallowing it down, he’d calmly tell you he’d actually just given you rat poison and would you like some more tea before you die a horrible painful death?”
“Funny. Er… You are joking, right?”
“Am I?” Spike quirked his eyebrow. “He used to be MI5, you know, but had to retire when his vision failed. He once told me he knew fifteen different ways to kill a man and make it look like a suicide.”
“Not… rat poison?” Liam gulped.
“Know how many people stupidly store rat poison right by their cereal?” Spike shrugged. “Accidents happen.”
“Ok, stop it. Your dad is not going to kill me with rat poison. Besides he’s in England so unless he mails the damn tea....”
Spike squirmed. “Yeah, that’s the other thing. He’s on his way over here.”
Liam jumped up, staring down at him. “What?! Now?!”
“Er… tomorrow?” Spike said sheepishly. “He’ll be at the airport around noon.”
“Jesus!” Liam let himself fall down in a kitchen chair, his head in his hands. “God, we’re so screwed.”
Spike stood up slowly and walked over to him, resting his chin on the top of Liam’s head, his arms wrapped around Liam’s neck. “Hey. It’s gonna be alright. He’ll meet you and see how much you love me and everything will be fine.”
“Spike,” Liam sighed. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”
“What?” Spike glanced at the window, trying to catch his reflection.
“What? You’ve got bruises covering your whole throat. Unless you plan to wear a turtleneck there’s no way he won’t see it and he’ll have my ass thrown in jail just like that.” Liam snapped his fingers.
“Oh. Bugger. We’re screwed.”
Liam nodded glumly. “Yep.”
“Maybe we can run away…”
“No.”
“Or I can tell him I got mugged and left tied up by my neck.”
Liam snorted. “He’ll believe that, right.”
“Or hey! That I got so depressed because people kept calling me a whore that I tried to hang myself.” Spike turned Liam around and slid down to sit on his lap. “And then you saved me in the nick of time, my knight in shining armour.”
Liam couldn’t help smiling, despite everything. “I thought we were trying to show that you’re happy with me, not suicidal.”
“Well, we could always just tell him that we like kinky sex.” Spike smirked and raised his eyebrow. “We could show him the video tapes.”
“God, you’re not even joking, are you?” Liam groaned. “Could this day really get any worse?”
“It’s not all been bad,” Spike argued with a pout. “There was your opening party.”
“Where you punched my sponsor slash ex-boyfriend,” Liam pointed out.
“Was that who he was?” Spike frowned. “I thought he was just one of your groupies that didn’t take no for an answer. Whatever.” He waved it impatiently away. “Then there was fabulous sex.”
“Where I almost strangled you to death and forgot to use a condom and…”
Spike shut him up with a quick kiss. “And last but not least, you told me you loved me. And then I said I loved you too.”
“Well…” Liam couldn’t really find anything to counterpoint that. “Yeah, ok. That was pretty nice.”
“See? When you look at it like that it’s the best day ever.” Spike kissed him again and then stood up. “I’m gonna take a shower. Want to join me?”
“We need to form a strategy. Figure out what to say and do when your dad gets here. And for all I know my sponsorship is gone and Cordy will shut down the exhibition and we’ll lose the apartment and…”
“Liam! I said: ‘I’m gonna take a shower. Want to join me?’” When Liam opened his mouth to argue Spike shushed him with a finger. “Me. Naked. In the shower. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
Oh. “Oh.” Liam smiled. “No, I think I’ve got it.”
Panicking would have to wait.
Conclusion in part 3b