Author: Inca
Feedback: Oh, I'll find you if you don't. - [email protected]
Rating NC17
AU Liam/Spike
Disclaimer: Whedon, Mutant Enemy and all that jazz
***
�So then, I was kicked out of my third one.� Spike said, looking at his paper snowflake with a squinted critic�s eye.
Liam frowned. �Third what?�
�I knew you weren�t listening.� He smiled. �Third school. For back-chatting the teachers, skivving off, having sex in the library annex, you know.�
�Oh.� He said, angry with himself. He did actually like hearing people�s life stories, and he cursed himself for missing out on what seemed like an interesting one.
�I never liked school.� Spike went on, refolding his paper with black tipped fingers, cutting more out of it. Liam wasn�t doing anything of merit with his craft time, just squiggling on some rough paper with a pen. And watching. Spike tended to his snowflake with a childlike enthusiasm. He didn�t notice the friendly smirk as he clipped and spun the paper around, cutting again, some more, again, all the while holding a one sided conversation. He had a lot of energy. �Its just � I think you �ave to �have the right sort of personality for it. And I don�t.�
�I didn�t mind school. Well, I wasn�t very good at it, but I didn�t mind going.� Liam ventured.
Spike was engrossed it marking out places to cut and didn�t answer that. He continued.
�Showing up for classes, and the whole not getting paid aspect��
He and Spike were in the same group and they saw a lot of each other. They both grudgingly participated in the programs, but usually skipped out to have a smoke. Spike didn�t seem too preoccupied with his synthetic potluck drug withdrawal. It obviously hadn�t hit him as hard as it could have; he wasn�t craving the drug although he did have bouts of depression, or anxiety. And he didn�t sleep well.
Liam was not so resilient. He was mourning his loss, feeling like a limb had been severed, feeling he had to start a completely different way of life, learn new ways of doing things to live around his disability. He felt empty. Alone. Even when he was surrounded by groups he felt invisible. He liked Spike because Spike sought him out even in free time. He wasn�t just a person to pair up with because he had to. He genuinely liked being around him. Liam didn�t see the attraction. And that wasn�t self-pity. He was so preoccupied with thinking about coke, planning to get coke, making elaborate plans to escape so he could be reunited with coke that he hardly had anything of worth to add to their conversations.
Spike was fidgety. Constantly in motion, although Liam didn�t know if that was a personality trait or whether it was a withdrawal symptom. He liked poetry, which was surprising, liked the Pistols which was not so surprising. He liked to tap his fingers when there was a lull in the conversation. He assumed the staccato raps were in tune to something, but he could never figure out what.
He figured Spike was gay, he�d seen him checking out other male patients with an assessing eye. Lots of young actors and athletes came to these clinics. And of course, he occasionally caught blue eyes appraising Liam himself. Liam lapped it up. He wasn�t gay, although he had fooled around with other boys in the college dorm rooms, at drunken parties at high school. And more recently, in less innocent circumstances.
�See? Now it�s perfect.� He said, with a smile and a roll of his tongue over his teeth, the bottom of his tongue stud on display. He held up the snowflake and Liam smiled.
�Very nice. Work of art.� He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth.
�I should give it to Mary and tell her it�s a present to show much she means to me.� He said solemnly, causing Liam to grin. Liam offered the pack to Spike but he shook his head, still holding the cutout up, watching it, as Liam lit the cigarette with his new plastic bic and began to draw the warm soothing smoke into his chest.
Spike put the snowflake down after apparently a sufficient amount of reverence and immediately started folding paper for a new one. Liam was zoning out again, and he leant back in his chair. He felt tired, even though it was only just past eleven o�clock. He realised this, tried to wake up, and yawned. He couldn�t be bothered doing anything. Watching Spike work his snowflakes with such resoluteness, was wearing him out, so he focused on the less stressful view of watching the tip of his cigarette glow, and burn, and ash between puffs.
He could do with a sugar hit. Some chocolate energy. His mouth watered but he was too worn out to go to the food hall. He might walk over later; right now� right now he was expending as much energy as he could.
He sighed and watched as Spike cut yet another little curl into the side of the paper. After the seeming randomness of it, he was finished and he opened it out for Liam to see. It was a star shape, with little cut out bugs through it. Liam laughed in surprise.
�That�s really good! How did you do that?� He asked, taking the fragile design from him to look closer. They looked like lady beetles.
Spike shrugged. �Had a teacher once. Always wanted us to make snowflakes. Can make cats too. Cats are easier.�
Liam smiled. �So where do you cut it?� He asked.
Spike shook his head. �Nope. Making snowflakes is one of my best talents, I�m not giving away the secret.� He smiled, curling his tongue and biting the bar through it, trapping the silver ball between his teeth. It was a Spike thing. Liam thought it must be quite weird having a bar of metal through your tongue. Spike was constantly playing with his, whenever he had a spare moment, his tongue would be flicking or rolling or curling. At first, when Spike caught him or Liam caught himself watching it with fascination, he would pretend he was looking at something else, and glance away, but now, he realised Spike didn�t care, and it was just interesting to watch him play with it.
The silver ball was travelling over the ridge of Spike�s bottom teeth, clacking back and forth, traversing the length of his mouth as he started folding paper into another soon to be snowflake. Liam watched him, keeping an eye on the interesting piercing. Another little Spike-ism was to suck the ring on his bottom lip into his mouth and nibble on it with his almost-straight white teeth.
�Does that hurt?� Liam asked of the teeth chewing at the tongue stud.
�What, this?� He clamped his teeth down around the bar, leaving the ball stranded on the outside.
�Yeah.�
�Nope.�
He drew a long puff on his cigarette, considering this. �Did it hurt when you got it?�
�Can�t remember. Just woke up with a swollen tongue and I looked in the mirror.� He pulled a shocked face, looking like he�d just been slapped for a moment eyes wide and mouth open, before relaxing into his usual lazy confidence. �Bit of a surprise. Didn�t take it out though� so��
�Did any of them hurt?� Liam asked, unable to let the interest die. �That you can remember, that is.�
�My nip did.�
Liam raised his eyebrows. �You have nipple rings?� he asked, almost a whisper, glancing to the rest of the room for a half second as if to see if anyone heard him.
Spike nodded, still cutting away at his snowflake. �Just one, the left one. And it�s a bar, not a ring.�
Liam was strangely intrigued, thrilled by it. He�d never met someone with a nipple piercing before. Or if he had, he didn�t know it.
�Wanna see?� Spike said, lifting his eyes from the paper, smirk in place.
He did want to see. But he didn�t want to give the wrong idea. �Um, no� thanks.� He smiled, like it was a strange question.
Spike had actually sat down and let someone shove a needle through his nipple. He wondered what a piercing would feel like in his nipple. And he winced at the thought of someone pushing a needle through it. Then he rolled his eyes because he injected poison into his body via needles.
But not into his nipple.
How could someone request that? It probably felt nice afterwards. He wondered if Spike was therefore into � the naughtier side of sex. Did he like someone to play with the bar? Pull on it roughly? He snorted a giggle into his chest at his thoughts. Spike looked up at him.
�What?�
He shook his head. Why the hell was he thinking about Spike�s sexual habits? He smiled again and shook his head.
�So you got any body mods?�
�A tattoo.� He admitted.
Spike cocked his eyebrow appreciatively. �I�m surprised. What�s it of?�
�Griffin.�
He picked up his paper again. �Half lion half eagle, right?�
�Yeah.�
�Where is it?�
�On my shoulder blade.�
�Can I see it?� he asked, snipping more from the paper.
He laughed and rubbed his upper arm nervously, �Not now.�
Spike�s eyes flicked up to him. �You�ll show me later, then.� He confirmed, catching onto the loophole in his words, a sly smile on his face. He went back to his cutting.
A naughty tremor flittered through Liam. Spike was definitely flirting with him. It felt good. It felt better than good. It didn�t mean anything of course; he was never going to show him his tattoo, not unless he could somehow avoid taking his shirt off. He realised he was less worried about being half naked in front of a man who liked men, and more worried about that man seeing his arms and then not wanting him anymore. He sighed, his elation suddenly gone.
After he and Cordy had separated, he�d been devastated. Cordelia had said it was probably best to take a break from each other. Connor had let it slip one weekend when he�d taken him to the zoo that Mummy had been happy after her last date. He�d been so shocked, he couldn�t speak. The colour had been bleached from the world. It was like that split second after you stubbed your toe, he was in shock but the ache hadn�t set in yet.
He didn�t blame her though.
�How could you Liam?�
He had decided to try it as well. He was clean at the time, fresh from his then latest visit to rehab. He�d been going out with a girl, from the old office, who had always flirted with him while he had worked there. She�d taken him back to her pristine pink and pastels apartment after a few dates, and they�d kissed and giggled, and he�d been distracted and not ready for the heart-rending humiliation that would follow. She�d slipped his jacket from his shoulders with a kiss, and leant back to admire his body in the almost tight short sleeved tee he had been wearing.
Liam winced like he was in physical pain as he remembered, hunching over the hurtful memory. Her blue eyes, lined in demure black, had slid over his chest, and then had widened in shock and alarm as swept over his arms. She�d dropped her warm hands away like he was diseased, as her pink lips fell into a not quite hidden moue of distaste. Eyelashes in stiff mascara wide and doe-stupid around her eyes as they had flicked from his arms to his eyes and back again and then she�d barked out a small laugh of embarrassment.
�They�re old, Im not using anymore, I promise��
And she�d nodded jerkily, quickly, wide fake mannequin smile pasted on like she was on speed and suddenly she was really tired but they could have coffee before he left, if he liked. Liam had declined and almost ran out of the apartment, feeling dirty and ugly and disgusting, biting his lips as tears threatened to fall right there on the street in front of hundreds of people.
He hadn�t worn a short sleeve shirt since. He couldn�t bear the thought of anyone seeing them ever again. Cordy had never seen them. She�d seen scabs at the start but she�d never seen the ugly that had been sewn into his arms through all the needles over the years they had lived apart. What would she say when she saw them? His heart burnt forlornly for a moment. If she ever saw them. His mind sometimes liked to run with the pretty illusion that when he got better, Cordy would welcome him back into their home without hesitation, smiling and happy her arms open wide. He had to keep telling himself that might not happen. Probably wouldn�t. She might not be willing to bare her heart again, not after what he�d done to it in the past six years.
�Mate, you right?� Spike asked from across the table. �You�re totally gone aren�t you. Can�t hear a word I�m saying.�
�No, I�m here, just got� lost � in thought.� He tried for a smile. His face couldn�t quite form it.
�Not good thought, I�m guessing.�
�Not particularly, no.� The nausea was back, along with the sleepiness.
A shrill whistle sounded and Spike stood up, amusingly folding up his creations neatly and putting them in his jeans pocket.
�You keeping those?� Liam smiled, his mood lightening at Spike�s childishness, as he followed Spike towards the food hall. It was lunch. Maybe he could get some chocolate.
�Yeah.� Spike said, completely serious, looking at him, confused that he�d even asked the question.
Liam laughed a little.
�What?� Spike asked, intrigued.
They got to the hall, Liam still smiling, and Spike was happy to see big greasy hamburgers were on the menu.
�Yeah. Got some bloody real food for us to eat!� Spike yelled happily, startling a few patients as he headed into the line.
Liam wasn�t hungry but he took a hamburger hoping he could work up enough resolve to actually eat it. He and Spike sat together, and he watched as Spike downed his burger messily, tomato sauce collecting in the crease at the corner of his mouth.
�You�re hungry.� Liam observed dryly.
�Yeah, I can�t figure it out either.�
Liam smiled and picked at his chips, swiping them through the hamburger on his own plate, topping them with sauce before nibbling. He was mainly interested in the orange juice. He sat back after the fifth chip and started to look around for a counsellor or some type of worker.
�You think I could get chocolate?� he asked as he tried to peer out the door, seeing if any workers just happened to be standing outside ready to answer his question.
�Ask.� Spike said, through a mouthful of burger.
Liam couldn�t be bothered. He couldn�t be bothered to do anything. Spike finished his burger and then eyed Liam�s. Liam nodded and pushed the plate towards him.
�Don�t want it all, just a bit more.� Spike said, eyes on the food, picking up the untouched burger and taking a huge bite from it.
Liam could hear him chewing. He reached over and picked a chip off the plate, snaking his hand around Spike�s elbow, which was resting on the table.
Spike put a quarter of the burger back down and burped, fist to his chest. �Okay, I�m done.�
Liam nodded. He felt full already. He�d only had about ten chips. He promised himself he�d eat his entire dinner the next night. Or the entire breakfast. He frowned. No, breakfast was too close. He�d eat the dinner.
�You should eat.� Spike said as an afterthought.
�Yeah. Just � not hungry.� He smiled, lopsided.
Spike looked at him. �Still�� he trailed off.
Liam couldn�t be bothered pointing out Spike didn�t eat regularly either. Too much effort.
�Gonna go Anno.�
�Sorry?�
�Anorexic. They�ll put you on a drip, I�ve seen that happen you know.� He raised his eyebrows as popped a chip in his mouth pointedly.
�I�ll eat tomorrow.� He promised vaguely.
�I�ll hold you to that.�
Liam smiled and took a sip of the orange juice. Spike was worried about him. He let out a small laugh.
�What?�
�Nothing, just ... thinking.�
�You think too much.� Spike observed blithely. �Man I need a beer. I don�t see why I can�t have beer. I understand why the alco�s can�t, but I�m not a boozehound.�
�Would you like it if all the alcoholics got jellies or speed and you couldn�t have any?�
�I�d take it off them.�
�And now we�ve learnt the true reason of why they don�t hand out beers in rehab.� He said dryly.
Spike squinted, a grin creeping across his face. �Was just making an observation.�
�Uh-huh.� Liam said, smiling, shifting his gaze so he could watch the TV.
**
The time ticked by a little faster now, didn�t drag out into eternity. When he woke he immediately looked at the calender. Ten weeks. Liam had been clean for ten weeks. He was proud of himself. The craving wasn�t any less, but he kept himself distracted enough. He wanted to sleep for years, and just wake up when he was back to how he used to be. Before all this. Hell, before college. He was twenty seven now, and he hadn�t been really him, sober and clean for about eight years. That was pitiful. The longest he�d gone without anything was eight months, six of that spent in rehab when he couldn�t get anything, anyway. He sighed.
He could do this.
He yawned and scratched the back of his neck, blinking and wiping the sleep out of his eyes. His roommate was absent, bed already made. It had been a hot night and his long sleeved shirt was sticking to him but he didn�t dare go to the shower until about ten, after everybody else. Sometimes he skipped the morning showers if he had to have one with everybody else, and just changed in his room.
A knock on his door. It was probably Frank, knocking to make sure Liam wasn�t getting changed. He�d walked in a few weeks ago when Liam had been changing, and while mumbling his apologies in his gruff embarrassed voice, his eyes had unerringly travelled to Liam�s arms and locked on the irritated red welts running in lines down them. Liam had pushed him out of the room in anger and slammed the door in his blustering face before slipping into his bed and refusing to leave for the entire day. Frank had come in later that night and tried to apologise, and Liam had nodded and accepted his pleas coldly before listening to Frank get into bed and fall asleep.
�Yeah I�m good, you can come in.� He said shortly. He still hadn�t forgiven him, still felt embarrassed, like he�d been caught jerking off or dancing to Jessica Simpson.
The door opened and instead of a fat, balding alcoholic walking through it, a shorter, thinner, peroxided punk entered smiling, cigarette in between his fingers.
�Good Morning.� He chimed, sitting at the foot of his bed as Liam sat up, back against the headboard.
�You too.� He said, talking into his chest to direct his morning breath down onto himself instead of into Spike�s face.
�Bored. Thought I�d come visit.� He looked around the room; eyes landing on the pictures stuck to the wall.
�Family?� Spike asked, interested.
�Yeah, that�s Cordelia and Connor�s the baby.� He tapped his fingers against the 2D smiles.
�Married then?�
He kept his eyes on the photo. �Separated.�
�Oh. The coke?�
Liam had a flash of that morning. Cordy�s final straw. �How could you?� Her face, twisted with hurt, big pained eyes welling with tears until they shined. �How could you, Liam?�
�Yeah. Well� related to it.� He said, quietly, ashamed all over again, regret piling up on him.
How could you?
�Ah.� Spike nodded knowingly. �He�s got bright eyes, doesn�t he?�
A swell of pride make his heart hot. �Yeah, bit of a surprise really.�
Spike smiled, some ash from his still cigarette fell to the bedspread as he stared at the two pictures, like he was memorising every detail from them.
�How old?�
�Almost seven.�
�Plays football.� He commented.
�Soccer.� Liam smiled, teasing him with the culture difference.
�Football.� Spike said, picking up on it.
�He plays soccer, Spike, look, got a soccer ball, on a soccer team.� He laughed at Spike�s rising irritation.
�It�s called football. You play it with your feet, don�t you?�
�Well, he�s in a soccer club.�
�Oi, it�s our game. And we call it football, so .. you�re wrong.�
�No,� Liam smiled, �Football�s the good one with the helmet and the body pads. It�s a man�s game. You know why you don�t need pads for soccer?� He asked, taunting him, not really meaning anything he said.
Spike stood up. �I�m going to leave before you say something you regret.� He said, and grabbed the pillow from Frank�s bed throwing it at him and catching him in the face as Liam collapsed into laughter.
He raised his eyebrow, drew a drag of his cigarette and turned to the door.
Liam tried to recover from his laughing. How long had it been since he�d laughed like this? A year, two? Maybe even three? He laughed again, just to savour the feeling. �See you in calisthenics.�
Spike groaned loudly and let his forehead clunk to the door. He hated the exercise routines. He threw a glare back at Liam for reminding him and yanked the door open, striding through and slamming it behind him.
Liam cracked up into giggles again.
**
Spike was unusually quiet. His withdrawal seemed to be kicking in a little and tended to show it�s colours in mood swings. He played with his fork, poking his thumb with each of the little prongs as they both sat down for breakfast.
Liam had caught a cold a few days ago, and was trying to quietly cough without disturbing Spike or anyone else. He felt hot and his throat was raw.
They wouldn�t give him cold tablets though.
He rolled his eyes at the stupidity, as if he�d get addicted to cold tablets. Why did the people who ran these places have to be so fucking retarded?
He breathed.
He told himself that he was just upset because of his lack of sleep. His face was clogged up and his nose was running. He was a mess. He had no immune system anymore; he caught every single bug that floated past. Caught it and let it fester inside until his brain clued into the fact he might need to fight the disease before it took over.
He sniffed, swallowing the ball of muck that ran down the back of his throat with a grimace.
�Sick?� Spike asked, watching the TV.
�Yeah. A cold.�
�Don�t eat well. That�s why.� He observed, pulling out a cigarette. �Need to eat well.�
�Yeah. Kay.� Liam wasn�t interested in playing that game today. They didn�t even have free time anytime soon, so he couldn�t go to sleep. Spike puffed on his cigarette ignoring him in his moody black clouded way.
Maybe he could disappear for a while during the hiking and just sleep in the bush. He nodded. That sounded damn good.
�Wanna get lost in the hike today?� He murmured.
Spike looked at him with his first grin of the day. He knew what he meant. �Okay.� He said, blowing a puff of smoke past Liam�s sight and tapping some ash onto the table.
He was back in his usual smirk happy mood. Liam smiled. �You�re a bad influence on me.� Liam joked.
�It takes two. One to influence and one to agree.� Spike smirked at him, and then scraped Liam�s untouched scrambled eggs onto his plate.
**
He sat outside on a wooden seat, smoking, on his last night, looking up at the dark sky. No stars. Can never see stars in L.A. He could feel the craving nibbling at the back of his tongue, inside his ears, but he ignored it. It was bad, but not as bad as before. It wasn�t to the point he was seriously considering murdering people if he could get a hit as a reward. He could live; he could breath with this. He�d have to.
Time had definitely passed quicker once Spike had arrived. It was good having someone around. Someone to talk to and laugh with. He nodded to the night. Yeah, he liked Spike. He was going to miss him once he left. Spike was still going to be caged here for another two months.
�Last night, yeah?�
Liam turned around to see Spike, leaning against the closed glass door, the metal in his face glinting in the night. His hair was iridescent, bright white.
�Yeah.� He smiled. Four months he�d been here. �Sit down. Have a smoke with me.�
Spike nodded and loped towards him. He slid into the seat beside him, making it creak a little, loud in the air. He smelled like clean skin and cigarettes, just a hint of the ribs they�d had for dinner on his breath. Liam passed him a cigarette and he lit it with one of his matches, snuffing the flame out, watching to make sure it didn�t spark up again in his hands, and then tossed it into the dark.
He breathed in the smoke like he was greeting an old friend, warm and open, pleasure clear on his face. He breathed it out through his nose.
�So, what are you going to do?�
�Get a job. Apartment.�
�All that jazz.� Spike finished with a breath filled with smoke and an undercurrent of barbecue sauce.
�Yeah. Not much else.�
�Well maybe, I�ll look you up one day. When I get out, if I stay in L.A., if you�re still there.� He laughed at all the obstacles he�d mentioned, his chuckle low.
Liam nodded almost imperceptibly. �Yeah, why not?� He�d like that. He wasn�t too good at meeting new friends, and he�d lost all his old ones. And he liked Spike. He felt better knowing Spike wanted to see him again.
�Well that�s � neat.� He said, with a smirk and a short laugh at the end of his words.
They puffed smoke out into the night for a while, the creak of the seat occasionally breaking the silence as one of them shifted. It was a calm silence, a friendly comfortable one. Liam suppressed the urge to yawn for a while, not wanting Spike to catch onto his tired mood, not wanting for him to think he was bored either. Spike shifted down in the seat, so his shoulder blades were resting against the slatted wood, and breathed his smoke up, tilting his head back, displaying a long white stretch of neck to Liam�s carefully hidden gaze.
He thought Spike was attractive. Yes. He didn�t deny that. He thought he oozed confidant sex appeal, charming as he smirked and pouted shamelessly, vain and endearing, a childish peacock basking in the attention it deserved.
He had no doubts Spike knew he was being watched. And he had no doubts Spike enjoyed it.
He coughed and stood up, killing the burn of his cigarette with the toe of his boot. Spike looked up at him, almost amused. �I�m gonna� get some rest.� Liam offered as explanation. He felt � mixed up, inside.
�Kay.� Spike stood, dropping his cigarette to the ground and mimicked Liam�s actions. �I�ll walk ya.�
Liam smiled a little and nodded, opening the door to the porch and letting Spike through. He felt nervous; his fingers were trying to scratch at the inside of his arms.
They walked past the main hall, hearing hooting and noise leaking from it as the party or whatever was happening tonight, raged within. Spike snorted and loped past it, turning the corner to the wing Liam was staying in.
Spike picked up his pace and strode down the corridor, smiling back at him as he let himself into Liam�s room, and left the door open. Liam jogged to catch up, bemused by Spike�s egotistical actions, and followed his path into the room.
Spike was sitting on his bed, pulling out another cigarette. He didn�t seem to notice Liam had entered and flicked the standard issue radio on. He flicked past Franks chosen channel and found some quick beat rock punk style music.
�All right.� He exclaimed, sticking the cigarette into his mouth and bobbing his head to the fast music.
Liam stood, unsure of what to do. He was uncomfortable at Spike being so comfortable. How did he know Liam wouldn�t get pissed at him changing the station, or letting himself into the room? Liam could never be so forward. His confidence made him feel like he�d known Spike for years.
Spike jumped up and started looking around the room, standing still as he scrutinised everything in it with his eyes, every pencil, every discarded shred of clothing as if they held secrets, interesting stories. Liam felt like Spike was learning about him with every object. Would he notice Liam only had long sleeved shirts if he looked in the cupboard? What would he be able to discern from Liam�s reading choices? Or his sketch pads? Would he judge, or agree or frown? Liam�s fingers were in the crook of his arms, scratching tellingly. He cursed and made his arms drop. He sat down where Spike had; watching him as he eventually moved on to looking at Frank�s belongings. He tapped his cigarette ash on the ground.
�Do I know your roomie?� He asked eventually.
�His names Frank�� Liam offered.
�Not in our group?�
�No.�
�Oh, okay. I hardly ever see my roomie. He�s very social.� He drifted back and sat on the bed next to Liam.
He sat close. Their legs were touching from thigh to mid calf.
Liam�s mind started trying to calculate when the last time he�d sat this close to someone was. It seemed very intimate. Maybe he was just grasping at straws. He hadn�t been close to anyone since Cordy had thrown him out. He sneaked a side glance at Spike, seeing him, looking at the opposite bed with little interest, hand moving up to steal the cigarette from his mouth so he could push the smoke from his lungs.
Hadn�t been close like this. Fucked in a coked up frenzy, yes. But had never stayed the next morning to actually talk. Hadn�t kissed anyone in a show of emotion. Hadn�t kissed anyone like that in three years. He frowned at the sudden, mind reeling implication. God, had it really been that long?
His heart was suddenly begging for that contact, now that it realised it had been deprived for so long. It wanted Spike to provide it. He didn�t know how he felt about that. He wasn�t turned on, he didn�t want to have sex, his libido was practically dead, but every follicle on his body was pleading with Spike to be attracted to him, to notice him, find him interesting and kissable. Right now, at that moment, it seemed very important that Spike was interested in him. That an attractive, friendly guy like Spike would be interested in him, in that way, seemed pivotal to Liam�s life.
�So are you going to stay in L.A after you get out?� Spike asked in his rough, smoke hot voice, cocking his head so he could watch Liam�s face.
Liam nodded.
More silence.
�What time tomorrow?�
�Uh, round nine I think.� He murmured.
He grinned, and plucked the cigarette from his lips. �Goodbye kiss then?�
He was surprised. It was so confident, so like Spike. Liam�s jaw ticked and he nodded jerkily, closing his eyes to the squiggle in his lower belly as Spike leant towards him. He felt soft, wet-licked lips against his own, Spike�s day old stubble catching him on the left of his mouth, scratching his chin. He felt the hard coldness of the ring in his lip, pressed against his own bottom lip, and felt it shift as Spike moved his mouth.
He smelled like cigarette smoke, and the faint faded scent of the shampoo in his hair and the clean soap-smell on his skin just barely tickled into Liam�s breaths.
A hand came down to rest just above Liam�s knee. He melted forward, his head falling back a little and the mouth opened, letting his shy flicking tongue inside. He could feel a strange slick lump in Spike�s hot tongue and then realised it was his tongue stud. The stud rubbed against his tongue in hard exciting patterns and his hands came up to rest against the moving fabric of a tee shirt over a prominent rib cage.
Spike�s hand sneaked up to rest on the middle of his thigh, fingers circling a bit, gentle and wanting and his seemingly comatose cock stirred for the first non-drug assisted time in a long while. A stir was enough. He felt gorgeous, and wanted, and happy, his body thawed and melded to Spike�s hard frame, as the mouth and tongue worked on his, waking up echoes of feelings and wants he�d thought were long buried without coke speeding through his veins. The ideas and the hopes were distant, but he clung to them, wrapping himself in every inch of the vaguely familiar warm squiggles inside.
Just as Spike�s hand drifted up to brush a sole finger softly against his crotch, a body bumped up against the outside of the door loudly, somebody in the hallway. The noise made Liam jump off the bed and back away from the tobacco smelling body, from the hard chest and warm fingers on the bed, scared of being caught, the realisation of what he was doing slamming home, both confused and ashamed at how good he had been feeling. His eyes flicked back to Cordy�s tired face on the wall, silently sorry. His thigh muscles were weak underneath the skin, threatening to collapse and drop him onto the dusty carpet.
�Very nice of you�� A woman�s voice giggled from outside as she and her companion laughed obliviously down the corridor.
�What?� Spike asked, confused and amusedly smiling at Liam�s jumpiness, looking at the door then back to his eyes. He drew a breath from his cigarette and leant down to stab it out on the sole of his boot. He flicked the stub in the small bin between the beds. �What�s wrong?�
Liam laughed nervously, the sound so obviously fake and frightened even to his own ears. He crossed his arms over his chest protectively. He was supposed to be getting help in here, not making out.
Spike tapped the bed next to him. �Come on, no one will know.� He purred. Liam�s eyes flicked ashamedly to his son. His son who deserved a family. His son who deserved better. He was supposed to be getting help in here.
Spike pouted at his unwillingness. He tried again. �Come �ere pet,� he grinned hugely, lifting a thigh onto the bed so he could face Liam who was still standing to the door. �You look a little nervous, new experience for ya? We won�t do anything� come �ere.� He cooed.
Liam laughed again, more crazy edging into the nervous reflex. �Listen, that shouldn�t have happened.� He said quickly. The grin fell from Spike�s face and he looked hurt for the tiniest of seconds before slapping his smirk over the top. �I�m sorry.� Liam said softly, looking down at the carpet. Rejection always hurt.
�No need to apologise luv.� He stood up and walked to the door, cutting close to Liam�s body. �We both know what you wanted.� He raised an eyebrow and opened the door. �Good luck.�
He blew a kiss; his face pure undiluted sex, and closed the door behind him.
TBC
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