Title: Starting Over
Author: midnight
Email: [email protected]
Pairing: Spike(William)/Angel(Liam)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Spike moves into a new apartment building…
Distribution: redssoulmates, Jess’ Lair
Feedback: No feedback..no fic. Lots of feedback..I
write more. I thrive on it.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. I don't own any of the
characters. I don't make any money from it. All credit
goes to Joss.
Spoilers: None
Notes: This is an AU human fic. No vamps. No seers. No
visions. Human!!! ‘’ character’s thoughts
Warnings: language, sex, m/m
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Starting Over 4/?
Angel made it back to his apartment and took a deep
breath, trying to shake the image of Spike in leather
pants out of his mind. Who was he kidding? The image
was permanently embedded in his head forever. Glancing
at the clock, his eyes widened. ‘Shit, I’m gonna be
late.’ Changing quickly, he made his way out the door
to meet Doyle.
Walking into the club, Angel let his eyes roam until
he had found Doyle. Ordering a drink, he sat down,
wondering if he should tell Doyle about Spike.
“Decided to show up, did you?”
Angel shrugged. “Got distracted.”
“By a blonde?”
“I think it was the leather that did it, actually. And
why would you say it was a blonde?”
Doyle’s eyes lit up at the statement. “Leather?
Really? He could be a kinky little thing.”
“I’m not into that sort of thing.”
“Please, everyone is into that sort of thing. So, you
gonna tell me what happened or do I have to beat it
out of you?”
“You’d enjoy that a bit too much.”
“You’re right. I would. Whip, handcuffs…”
Angel took a deep breath. “It was nothing. I need
another drink.” Standing up, he made his way to the
bar before Doyle could say another word.
By the time he got back to the table, he knew Doyle
would be impatient. They had been best friends for too
long for him not to know him. “It was nothing.”
“A blonde in leather is something.”
“It’s not like he wore it for me. We talked a bit the
other day. Exchanged names, that sort of thing.
Offered to show him around and he declined.”
“Sorry, man.”
Angel shrugged. “Wasn’t meant to be. Earlier today I
got a piece of his mail and went over to his apartment
to give it back to him. He answered the door in a pair
of leather pants and nothing else. Probably had a girl
over.”
“You sure he’s into girls?”
“I doubt he’s into guys.”
Spike walked out of the main office with the manager
of the club. For the last hour they had talked about
music, more specifically the kind of music he wanted
played at his club. Luckily for Spike, it was the
direction he was headed in. Spike had played some
sample pieces for his hopefully soon to be boss.
He was confident when he had first walked in the door.
He had played the part. His leather pants. Tight black
t-shirt. Boots and of course his duster. The only
reason the manager, Todd, had agreed to meet Spike was
because of who Spike was. Todd had recognized Spike
from a band that he had played in while back in
London. He tried to explain to him that he wanted a
new direction. He wanted to play guitar and sing solo.
Just him. He knew his music had a rock and roll edge
to it, but now he was writing his own music. He wanted
to make a name for himself. After playing a few
pieces, Todd had told him he had seen enough.
“Make yourself familiar with the club, Spike. You have
a tryout performance next week. If the crowd likes
you, you stay employed. If not, you go elsewhere.”
“Got it.” He shook the man’s hand, grinning.
“I’ll call your apartment and leave the details on
your voice mail.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” Seeing his new boss walk
out of the club, Spike turned around letting his eyes
wander. Seeing a familiar figure, he couldn’t help but
to smirk. ‘Angel.’ Glancing over at the man next to
him, he recognized him as the man that Angel had been
talking to in the hallway the day he moved in.
Ordering himself a drink, he made his way over to
their table.
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