Author: Inca
Feedback: Turns the music blue - [email protected]
Rating NC17
AU Liam/William
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I just like to play with them
Spoilers: AU
Summary: Risen from the ashes, as an Angel
Authors notes: Thankyou for feedback, as always, cause, like I say, it turns the music blue.
~~~~
He had seen Wesley the night after the phone call. He had picked the man up and they�d gone for hot dogs which Will had claimed, was very Californian. He�d given him a tour at night, they�d walked down some of the Boulevard, Rodeo Drive, driven to Hollywood so Wesley could see the Walk of Fame and the Chinese Theatre which he loved, and then he�d even convinced the proper Englishman to come into an arcade with him.
Afterwards, Wesley had invited him back to his hotel room and had fumbled with a bottle of wine for about six minutes once they got there, before Will had taken it from him and kissed him, pushing him back towards the bed. He had been quite happy with himself. This was good.
Normal.
Normal relationship.
Not sick in any way.
He grinned as he devoured Wes�s open mouth, waiting for his arousal to pick up.
It didn�t.
Wesley had been compliant and eager, straddling Will as he slipped out of his shirts. The shy persona wasn�t an act and it was very endearing, but it hadn�t fluttered William�s libido as it used to. He took his time undressing Wes and playing with him, but found himself scarily disinterested. He pulled Wesley to a climax as the man panted and squirmed for him, trying to let the images and the sounds wash through his body and wake his crotch up.
Nothing.
Wesley was undoing his pants and grinning up at him and it was about to be a very embarrassing situation because Will wasn�t excited at all, he just wanted to go home, just wanted to sleep, when, Wesley had become someone else
Shapeshifted.
And it was so real.
Little bit shorter but more muscled, wide shoulders and chocolate eyes instead of English grey. Chocolate eyes with an obliviously pure beautiful look in them. A mouth that whispered about stars before it wrapped around his now painfully hard cock. He picked Liam up and threw him on the bed, spreading his long thighs and sliding into the body as it sang out beneath him. Liam�s head rolling on the pillows, Liam�s artist�s fingers gliding over his body, Liam�s voice murmuring his innocence in his ear and Liam�s cock sliding wet along his stomach as he thrust.
Will had left Wesley sleeping on the bed � a small smile still painted on his face even in slumber, dressed and driven quickly home. He had managed to make it inside before the tears started to fall.
**~~**
Will hadn�t been to see him for a while. He couldn�t remember how many days, there was no time. Only not now � and now.
Maybe he�d come to see him - now. He decided he liked this idea and arranged himself prettily on the bed. He licked his lips but got distracted.
�Where are my pens?� He asked Will, only to remember a second later he wasn�t there.
�Right. Sorry. I�ll ask later.�
The stars were still singing, it sounded like an old church carol this time, but it was very quiet. Almost nothing.
Someone knocked on the door and Angel froze.
�You are NOT invited!� He screamed at them, they who looked like people, but Angel knew better. He jumped off his bed and stop next to the door. �GO! GO! GO AWAY! THERE�S NO ONE HERE!�
�Angel, its just me.� Doyle said, muffled through the door.
Angel gathered the courage to look through the window. Doyle smiled, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows playfully. It looked like Doyle. Did he know better? What if they already got him? What if they knocked on his door and he invited them in and then �
He willed the memory away; tears pushed out between his eyelids with the effort. He sniffed.
�Angel.�
Doyle wasn�t a vampire. It was daylight, and the stars would�ve screeched the � he lost his track of thought and opened the door. Doyle sauntered in.
�Thanks. Haven�t seen you in a while.� He said, sitting on the bed.
Angel nodded and sat down at the desk, turning the small chair to face the visitor. �Hello.�
�Hey. So what are you up to? Want to go with me to the library?�
He wondered if the library was dark enough. If it were dark, teeth and knives could hide there.
Is it dark �
�in the library?�
Doyle smiled, pulling a cigarette out and focusing on it while he talked. �Ags, I know you said the whole thing in your head, only problem is, I�m out here, so could you ask that again?�
�Is it dark in the library?�
�Nope, bright. You�ve been there heaps �a times.� He chuckled a little, gazing at Angel fondly.
�Have I?�
�Bright as the art room.�
Angel raised an eyebrow. �All right.� He picked up the tin holding his pencils.
He followed Doyle to the smallish library, and yes, he had been there before. He remembered it. Doyle was looking through a stack off books near the door, chatting to the person running the library, and Angel got drawn away. Something was singing a siren song to him and he followed the music. He wandered through the short stacks, not really looking or reading, but enjoying the songs. He laughed and clapped as a really good one started, about the sound of grass and the emotions a book has when you read it. Quite appropriate song choice he thought. He felt himself swaying to the music. He�d have to remember the tune; William would like this song. He�d sing it to him.
He pulled out a book, didn�t look at the title and put it back, all in time, part of his dance. He picked out another and pushed it back, but the shelf was crowded and he had to push hard and he felt a sting along finger. He pulled it back and saw a shallow little stinging cut. The music stung in time to the throbs in his finger and then stopped.
Angel slumped.
He could hear everything now. Every little scritch of book or page. He didn�t like it, it was eerie. The blood on his finger was letting off a slight song. Blood always sings.
He clenched his jaw.
Sometimes it would sing a lovely soothing song.
Sometimes it screamed like a thousand children under knives. He trembled inside. No, like two children under knives. He visibly shook.
This is what happened when the music stopped.
He pulled out one of his sharpest pencils and stabbed it lengthways into his wrist, across the little blue lines, before pulling it out.
�Ow.� He said, looking at the small hole squeezing out blood.
�Ow!� he said again, louder. He dropped the pencil and held his hand over his wrist to numb the stinging. The blood let out a few low notes before kicking into a voice, a voice of a star � maybe two, singing to him, telling him he�d be alright.
�Find anything Angel?� Doyle asked, coming up behind him in the aisle, holding two or three paperbacks.
�My wrist hurts.� Angel told him.
�Why�s that?�
He turned and held his arm out, the blood running in little rivers between the fingers holding the stinging wrist. He released the pressure and Doyle swallowed, his eyes widening at the wound.
Quick as lightening, Doyle had a hand around the sore wrist and was dragging him to the first aid room, screaming for Sally or Marge, and wrapping strips of material around his wrist.
He watched placidly as the music became a little duller, the words overlapping, as Sally ran towards him, her face tensed horribly in anxiety.
**~~**
�Hello Angel, long time, yeah?� Will said, closing the infirmary door behind him.
Liam beamed at him from the bed, the only one in the room. His left wrist was heavily bandaged.
�Hey Will, what�s happening?�
�Nothing much. What happened with your wrist?�
Liam looked down in surprise at his wrist and lifted it up so he could get a better look at it.
�Oh! Um, I don�t really remember.� He grinned goofily. �I think I was trying to start the music again. It stopped. I haven�t seen you for a while have I?�
Will came forward and sat on the bed. �No, Pet, not for a while.�
Will had been at home, moping, when he�d gotten the frantic call from Sally. He could still her the shrillness of her voice. � Liam�s tried to kill himself, he�s cut his wrist open! � He arrived at the infirmary in record time, to see Sally stitching up a nasty looking rip in his wrist, the floor and bed littered with bloodied towels and material. Liam was on the bed in the surgery, leaning against a wall, slack jawed and dark eyed. They�d stopped the bleeding; pulled out the shard of lead in his wrist and they were all praying everything went alright.
Will had sat by his bed as he slept that night, terrified he wouldn�t wake up. He just lay there, face blank and body unmoving, like he was already dead. He�d spent the night fantasising that Liam would slip into a coma, his face never lit up again by a smile or a flutter of his eyelashes. It had suddenly hit him. How attached he�d become to the man after four months.
�Were you feeling bad, the day this happened?�
Liam looked at him with his big puppy eyes. �No. Why?�
�Do you know why the music stopped?�
�Um, no. It just does sometimes.�
�And that upsets you?�
�I like it better when there�s singing.�
Liam looked out the wide window at some noise he heard and Will saw the patch on the back of his neck. He laughed and Liam turned back.
�You�re having a bad time of it, aren�t you Pet? First the one on your neck, now your wrist. You always like this?�
Liam laughed and shrugged. ��to do it.�
Will left some time for Liam to realise he hadn�t completed his sentence. He didn�t, just stole glances at him coyly. Couldn�t be arsed asking, he probably wouldn�t remember anyhow. He smiled at him indulgently.
�The next time the music stops � come see me alright?�
�See you?�
�Yeah, don�t try to start it, just find me.� Will said sincerely. He was upset. He knew how close he had come to losing Liam. He managed to not drown in the guilt as he his mind pondered why he really didn�t want to lose Liam. Manage to keep his head above the slurping, wetsand-like emotion as he realised he couldn�t bear not seeing him again. He liked Liam.
But this was alright, just them talking.
Sitting close to him.
Breathing him in.
He just wouldn�t touch him. Liam would never know.
�Would you sing to me? If I found you?� Liam asked, bedroom eyed and smiling wickedly.
�Yes. If that would make your music start again.�
�Will you sing to me now?� Liam asked, his face heart-breakingly vulnerable.
He had to make Liam happy.
�What do you want to hear? I�ll be a jukebox.�
Liam smiled. �Umm, �Mandy�?�
�You want me to sing Manilow?� Will laughed.
Liam nodded childishly and tried to pull Will up to sit next to him. Will hesitated, and Liam winced at the pain - he was using his left-hand tug at him. Will�s stomach did a flip-flop at the flash of pain on his face and he crawled up the bed to rest against the headboard with Liam.
He prayed no one would come into the room, as Liam rested his warm head on Will�s shoulder. Will reached up to pet his hair.
�I remember all my life ... Raining down as cold as ice��
**
He sat in his office, some more, and read over the doctor�s reports of the day Liam was arrested. Some more. He sighed.
Some more.
(�Shallow and deep wounds all over body, disorientated, paranoid, rectal tearing/bleeding, two broken ribs, anal swelling, concussion�.)
He plucked his glasses off and threw them onto the desk, rubbing his tired eyes. He picked up the desk clock and pulled it close. Nine thirty-six. He looked disinterestedly around the room, apathetically noting the wood-panelling motif looked quite nice. He frowned at himself and decided to go home. He�d drop by Liam�s bed in the infirmary before he left.
Just to make sure he was still okay.
**~~**
Angel had his face tucked into his shoulder as he lay under the covers in the white-sheeted bed. His eyes were wincing closed. The moonlight shone in shards, drifting bars over the made up beds in the large empty ward.
It was quite scary.
The light still shone in through the door connected to the nurses� station. He could hear Sally outside rummaging through things, which was comforting.
The infirmary was large and wide, so unlike his room in the inmate ward, so unlike what he was used to. So dark.
He breathed in sharply at the thought, his hand tightening a bit.
Will. Think about Will.
( �You came and you gave without taking �)
His voice joined the harmony of the stars. They weren�t singing Mandy though. It didn�t matter what they were singing; Angel always seemed to know the words anyway.
His hand started gently stroking again.
He could smell Will in his nostrils. Could feel his hand in his hair, petting him. Telling him it was alright.
His thighs spread under the covers
Could hear his voice like a million fingernails gently teasing his body, till his hair stood on end, till his skin goose-pimpled and his nipples tightened. He reached his other hand up to scrape along his chest, circling and flicking. The sheet pulled down a bit and exposed his nub to the cold of the ward. He shuddered and tucked his face further into his shoulder.
He could feel Will�s shoulder as he rested his face on it, could feel the curl of his arm around him.
He moaned and tickled his fingers across the hard flesh. He slowly moved his hand down from his chest to spider-tap lightly across the small strip of skin and down even lower, hiding under the covers.
He groaned and threw his head back baring his teeth.
The music in his head went blue and swirled past his eyes, feeling like velvet wrapped around inside his skull.
He giggled as he panted, hearing his breath through the pillow.
Another wave built up in him, emanating from his lower belly and he bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out.
His wrist was hurting so he pulled it from between his legs, pulling the covers down, to rest on his thigh and let his fingers run circles around his sac.
The music was loud, way too loud, He had to wince against it but he kept pulling, his hips thrusting into his hand, his stomach tensing.
A flame flashed through his body and his lips were quivering. His ears hurt from the noise, his eyes blinded by the yellows and purples of the sound. He saw something out of the corner of his eye and rolled his head towards the door connected to the hallway.
Framed in the small glass square in the upper part of the door, was Will�s face, blank and mouth open. Angel stared at him, knowing he was watching, with his blue eyes and nails and hair and lips and his skin like warm satin. His eyes were on Angel�s, but he didn�t look away.
Watching me ... Will�
Angel kept the gaze as the last wave thrashed through him, making his hips rise from the mattress as he released over the bed and his hands, his mouth open silently, his whole body hot from his toes to his eyelashes, and he became blind except for the little amount of Will and blue eyes he could see through the glass.
He slumped when the crescendo ended, panting loudly in the room, still watching Will.
Would he come in now?
Would he play, with warm hands and soft hair, and gentle eyes?
He saw Will swallow, as if he had something difficult in his mouth.
Angel lifted his spend covered hand to his mouth and licked it, tasting the rain and the heat of the summer that had been inside his body, smiling coyly at the blue eyed statue.
Will stayed for a moment, blinking, before turning quickly and disappearing.
Angel sucked on his index finger and pulled up the covers.
**~~**
FUCK!
�FUCK!� Will yelled out, jumping into his car.
He squealed out of the space, and gave an almost manic smile to the guard at the gate.
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
�FUCK FUCK FUCK!�
He checked his reflection in the mirror and almost drove his car off the road in shock. His eyes were wide and terrified, his mouth taut, face pale. A stranger. Not the calm and collected man he usually saw smugly staring back at him.
�FUCK IT ALL!�
He breathed heavily.
Liam.
His cock twinged in its over sensitive state.
He�d looked through the small window into the ward and saw him, lust and silk, layed out on his bed, hand around his cock pumping, head rolled back and muscles tensed, pale blue-yellow bars of moonlight painted over his body.
His breath fogging up the small square of glass as he watched him roll and grimace with pleasure, cheek flat against his shoulder. His hand pressed and rubbing at his jean covered crotch as he watched smooth bare thighs spreading, widely, wantonly, the sheet down to his knees.
His shadowed eyes meeting Will�s. The knowing look, knowing he�d been watching, knowing he wanted to watch.
The wetness spreading from his crotch as Liam licked his palm, cleaning it with a smile that was now burning behind Will�s eyelids, and he�d never get rid of it, always see a nymph with tired relaxed shoulders smiling at him playfully as he made a show of tasting his come, everywhere he looked, every time he closed his eyes.
Playful grin and a swipe of red tongue. His cock hardened again, against the cold wet of his jeans.
Will parked at his apartment and slammed his palms onto the steering wheel, panting in frustration and anger.
�FUCK!�
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