Author: Inca
Feedback? Yes please! [email protected].
Rating NC17 � just is, bad language other stuff *warning* details abuse
Liam/Spike
Disclaimer: Whedon, mutant enemy and all that jazz
Spoilers: None. AU.
Summary: Liam's a P.I. who gets a walk in client.
Authors notes: The endings a fucked up cliche. I love it. I dont know what's wrong with me.
***
By a far gleam which I may near,
A dark path I can strive to clear.
-�Jenny� Dante Gabriel Rosetti
***
Liam walked through the double doors of Dig Brucker�s manse at 5:45 the next evening with 190 thousand dollars in bills in two oversized suitcases, and a determined look of his face.
His bank in Switzerland had wired him the money, no questions asked. They were used to their clients making large withdrawals. It didn�t bother them, or alert them in any way. Swiss banks were like that. It�s why Swiss banks were so well liked.
He was wearing an overcoat that was two sizes too large for his frame, the heavy sleeves hung down past the middle knuckles on his fingers.
He anticipated trouble.
He hade made an appointment with Brucker, telling his go-to man, Harvey, that he had 190 grand and an offer that would be unwise for Brucker to ignore. Harvey had gotten on the phone, and then come back, smiling his toothy shark smile, giving him a time to meet the man.
The foyer was huge and white, with large serving plate sized tiles across the floor. Two large curled staircases curved away from him up to the second floor, while two large white-fashioned lounge rooms with identical fireplaces could be seen through either side of the archway-ed lobby. He rolled his eyes at the posturing extravagance.
After a respectable few minutes had ticked by, footsteps echoed across the tiles, coming towards him.
Two thugs, also matching in their black jackets and sunglasses bore a resemblance to the two men Liam had debilitated for Spike all those nights ago. He sniffed to show his complete apathy at the men. They seemed offended.
�Mr Brucker will see you.�
Liam nodded and followed through the rolling rooms, which seemed to be decorated primarily in white. White leather couches and sculptures of swans and white china hutches and painted white furniture. They finally came to a large plain wall which had three heavy doors set into it. One of his escorts opened the centre door and the sounds of sex and pain filled Liam�s ears like burning liquid.
Spike�
He walked in, feeling the two men move in silently behind him.
The room had two glassed in walls to see through to the adjoining rooms. The far wall was filled with electronic equipment, soundboards, mixers, and television screens planted disjointedly around. Two chairs sat in front of the mean looking black plastic covered wall.
Spikes face or parts of his body filled every single one of those screens, up close, bright and shuddering.
The room on the right was blackened and empty, Liam could see his reflection on the glass, but the left room�
Spike was blindfolded with a strap of shiny red material. He was intricately tied up.
He was naked, in the centre of the room, on his back on what looked like a short black leather padded balance beam, which supported his head down to just under the top of his butt, angled up slightly, so his head was lower and his butt was on exhibition to the room Liam stood in. The room had metal links haphazardly drilled into the walls and the floor.
His bruised wrists were connected to the floor with a chain, to links on the floor in line with his hips, so that his arms were at a forty five-degree angle, running down beside the beam he was on. Ropes were wrapped around his thighs a few times, tight and just above his knees. The ropes ran up over his chest to connect to the wall about five feet behind his head, to keep his legs bent and up on his stomach. More ropes splayed from his knees and were tied to the links his wrists were chained to, tied tightly, so his legs were wide open, as far apart as possible, displaying his hole and his cock and balls to the window. He had a black collar strapped around his black and blue neck; a thinner chain connected the back of the collar to a link on the ground. His cock was a painful swollen red from the black plastic ring gripped around it, cutting into the fleshy base.
He couldn�t move an inch; he was completely vulnerable, at the mercy of the three other men in the room.
A man with brown hair, wearing jeans and a tee was pulling large blue anal beads from Spike�s hole. The prostrate body jerked, his face grimacing. Another man absently played with Spike�s distressed cock, flicking at the head, listening to Spike gasp in pain.
The third was laughing as he snapped clothes pegs onto Spike�s small constricted nipples.
Spikes neck was covered with the worst bruising Liam had ever seen, but now the blonde had bruises all over the fine lines of his pale body, along with a large swollen cut high on his cheekbone, and a black stitched line through his left eyebrow. Thin mischievous grey lines snaked out from the light black splotches on his arms, reaching out to pull Spike in. The tiny needle marks in the black looked scabby with puss and uncared for, yellowed and wet.
Liam could see stripes of red on his slightly upturned butt, even welts splaying out from his crack, around the large blue balls that the man was pulling out. Black spots spilt from under the blindfold, black under the red against snowy flesh. He was in pain, he was being used and he was piteous and Liam�s heart stuttered and made him almost black out from the sight of it.
The men laughed, every noise being transferred into the room Liam was in. Every pant and groan and whine of pain. The man pulled all the remaining beads from the red distended hole at once.
�Beautiful isn�t he?� Liam turned at the deep voice.
A man of about forty had entered the room and stood by the two bodyguards that had led Liam. The man had short black hair and wore gold chains over his expensive striped suit. �He�s a new acquisition.�
Liam�s stomach tightened in preparation for a fight at the smug words.
�So, Mr ��
�Liam.� Liam answered, maintaining brutal eye contact even though Spike�s pants of pain were filling his ears and twisting his gut.
�Liam. I hear you have a proposition for me?�
He sat down at a chair in front of the equipment. A television screen filled with Spike�s pain plastered face sat behind his shoulder.
�Yes, I do.� He threw the bags of money at his feet. �I want to pay off Spike�s debt.�
Brucker nodded smarmily. �Mmmm, I see.�
A low strangled growl caught both their attentions. They turned to see one of the men feeding a bit of loose chain into Spike�s ass as the man with the pegs applied his twisted craft to the sensitive darkened skin of Spike�s sac. Spike howled and tried to pull away uselessly, his thighs twitching in their enforced position. He cried for them to stop, his voice rough and low.
Liam swallowed and continued. �I have 190 grand here. That�s his debt, plus interest.�
Spike was begging with them to stop as the small pegs built up on his sac and the soft tender skin around it. The sound of fleshy spanks filled his ears and Spike fell silent apart from a few wounded whimpers.
�Hmmm. No.�
A sharp canine yelp accompanied the chain�s bitingly quick removal.
�No?� Liam�s teeth were on edge from the pain Spike was in. He couldn�t stand it.
His eyes flicked to his lover. The men in the room were amusing themselves by trying to push whatever they could into the helpless body. One held his thick hand over Spike�s mouth as they tried to work in a pot of lube in.
�I don�t want his debt repaid.�
One of the men left and they tired of the pot. The peg man lazily pumped his cock in and out of Spikes mouth as they waited for the other to return. A man started smacking Spike�s ass, turning whatever flesh he could, to a bright distressing red. He unpegged a few pegs from his scrotum and reattached them watching him shudder, smoothing his hand over the quivering stomach.
�I happen to quite like Spike. I want to keep him. He has the most amazing body.�
The missing man returned with an anonymous alcohol bottle. He spat on it and worked the thin neck of the bottle into the abused hole easily. Spike started a caustic wail as his body refused to accept the width as the bottle began to flare out. He was shuddering in his confines, trying as futilely to get away from the laughing men, as an injured bear tries to get away from the steely toothed trap on its foot.
-No, no, it�s too big! please �
- Nothings too big slut, open wide -
Another man bent over laughing, and pushed his index fingers into the spasming hole alongside the neck of the bottle, hooking them around Spike�s ring from the inside and pulling the muscle wide to allow the bottle entry.
Spike tensed completely as the bottle was shoved inside him, his swollen mouth open in a silent tortured howl.
One of the men stole the opportunity and slid his cock in between Spike�s lips, thrusting a few times into the crying face.
�You don�t own Spike. Hes not yours.� Liam spat dangerously. �Take the money and find someone else who wants to be your fuck toy, cause Spike? Is coming with me.�
The men in Spike�s room laughed and Spike was choking on the muscle slamming into his throat. Another pulled the bottle from his anus and pushed his cock into the hole in its place. He started to fuck him, carelessly, harsh and brutal and alien silent.
�You got now power here.� Brucker laughed, complacently leaning back in his chair. �Spike�s mine. He does what I want. Bows to my word, like the slave he is inside. I got him lined up to fuck his way through five hundred cocks, A gangbang in Vegas, and he�ll do it with a smile on his face.�
Liam felt the cold muzzle of a gun press into the back of his skull. He kept glaring at Brucker. Spike�s pain danced in his ears, his heart thudded and he gave himself a fifty percent chance that he was going to die in the next few seconds. But he didn�t regret coming here.
He had stood up and refused to let Spike leave him. He had come here to fight.
Because Spike was worth fighting for.
�It�s a good offer. You should take it.�
Brucker suddenly flung out of his chair and stood nose to nose with Liam, screaming spit into his face. �Do you know how much I�m worth you piece of fuck! Do you know how much I make?� He slapped Liam across the cheek. �Do you think 190 gees means piss in the water to me? You�re going to die, but before you do, I want you to know how much I�m gonna fuck up your little fag in there. Cause you, disrespected, me. And that was a mistake. I�m gonna run those five hundred guys through his used up cunt over and over, I�m gonna tape it and dedicate it the fuck to you, I ��
He stopped his tirade, his face turning white in shock, his eyes wide. His mouth opened and closed like a guppy stranded in a boat, trying desperately to find some water to sooth its burning gills.
�Boss?� The thug with the gun said. �What�s wrong?�
Brucker�s hands smoothed stickily down his suit to his stomach, to close around three eleven-inch razor sharp steel blades buried in his flesh. Liam watched him calmly as blood started to pour down the expensive suit, pushed out of the wounds by his rising heartbeat. Liam knew what he was feeling, like hit gut was on fire, was filled with explosions of angry burning rose thorns. He�d had his claw turned on him in a fight once.
But unlike the Angel, Brucker would not live through it.
Only that morning had Liam modified his claw. It was his favourite weapon after all. He put the blades onto a ratchet, which would spring forward from a sheath hidden under his jacket sleeve.
�Boss?� The muzzle dropped from his head as the man tried to see around Liam.
Liam turned and slashed the blades across the mans throat in an upwards backhand, kicking the other guard across the face in the same motion, taking him out before he could reach for his own weapon.
He broke the man�s neck and turned back to the quivering Brucker on the floor.
He was shivering and trying to keep the slippery escaping blood in his body with his hands.
He was whispering. � Something.
The men in the room with Spike had finished, two had left. One stayed behind to kiss Spike cruelly on his mouth as tears ran down his cheeks, soaking the blindfold, slapping his butt as the man hysterically tried to pull away. He twisted on of the pegs on Spike�s sac to make him howl long and low into the now empty dark room.
They had left him. Tied up and in pain and crying and they had turned off the lights and left him alone.
Liam�s heart trembled and burnt as the audio feed to the room relayed Spike�s snuffles of pain. He could just see the pale figure unable to move, strapped up on his back.
He turned and stabbed into Brucker�s crotch, feeling the blades slice cleanly into the gristle. He wandered around the room as Brucker screamed, searing for something to tie the man up with. He found some electrical tape and slapped it over his mouth, and then hog-tied his ankles and wrists with it.
He left that room and entered the next. It was dark, no windows. Liam could see the video equipment now, it was hidden beside the glass windows to give the insiders an unspoiled view. He clipped the lights on and slowly walked inside.
He turned; claw raised as he spotted a man out of the corner of his eye, but realised it was just himself in the two-way mirror.
�Kill me.� Spike whispered emotionless in the darkness. �Kill me.�
He started crying again, desperate wails, still trussed up, his legs shivering with the words. �I can�t � kill me, it doesn�t matter, please! Slit my throat! Kill me, Jordan, I don�t care!�
Spike started sobbing hysterically, gut wrenching, mind blistering weeps with huge lung-fulls of air between. Liam had never heard anyone in so much pain.
Liam walked towards the man still chained on his back. He saw a huge dildo wedged into Spike�s anus, with the same electrical tape he�d used on Brucker, taped in a cross over it and onto Spike�s crimson welted cheeks to keep it from release.
Spike�s ring was red and irritated, stretched around the huge proportions of the phallus. Liam carefully unstuck the tape and slowly pulled the plastic invader out, fraction by fraction as Spike�s sobbing stepped back from insanity. He flicked the rubber ring off Spike�s distended cock, hearing Spike cry a sigh through his nostrils as his cock pumped some clear fluid and then quickly deflated.
�Kill me.� He whispered again, sounding like he was high on something.
�No.� Liam breathed,
�I�m disgusting. Just strangle me, please, I wont tell anyone,� he whined, his demented whisper shivering Liam�s spine as he reached up the stretched body to unfasten the too tight dog collar from the black and blue throat. His voice was rough and broken. �I�m too revolting and too disgusting to live.�
Liam looked down, his eyes watering. �No you�re not.�
Spike started breathing heavily at the voice. Liam pulled the blindfold loose and held the face in his blood-dried hands, the blades of his weapon harmlessly stretching up along Spike�s shatteringly trusting face. His eyes grew huge with shock, his bleeding lips quivering.
�I couldn�t love you if you were.�
He bent down, avoiding Spike�s mistreated lips, and kissed him on the cheek, wet and salty with tears, hearing Spike sob differently than before. Hope and thanks mixing in with the despair. He couldn�t, couldn�t dare to hope that this was real.
�What�. What are you doing here?�
�I missed you,� Liam smiled, kissing Spike on the forehead. He slashed the ropes around Spike�s thighs with the blades, as Spike stared almost deranged at his face, crying and laughing softly at the same time. His legs stayed in the same position even though they were freed. Liam released the thin wrists from the cuffs, no key was needed thankfully, and then brought the limp arms up to massage feeling back into the hands, avoiding the band of black that hugged the wrists. Spike stayed staring at his face, eyes wide. Liam lifted his arm to inspect the obscene track marks on his inner arms, seeing that one was infected and swelling red. Those tracks were permanent; a permanent blemish on Spike�s faultless body. His legs were still raised and Liam saw little dark needle pricks between his thin toes.
Liam pulled a peg off his nipple, and winced as Spike started gasping in pain.
�No,� he breathed, doleful, �no more, it hurts too much.�
�Spike, they can�t stay there.� He pulled another off his nipple, and Spike reached up and grabbed his wrist as the blood poured back into the depressed flesh painfully. Liam managed to pull the other two pegs off his nipples without too much distress. Liam�s friend when he was thirteen had once dared him to peg a clothespin on his nipple and leave it there for a minute. He had accepted and pegged it on, feeling a sharp sickening pain as it clamped down. Once the blood had rushed from it, it was fine. But Liam had learnt that removing it a minute later, after the skin had become dry and bloodless was twice as painful as pegging it on in the first place.
Liam just glancing down at the five pegs sticking up line needles from Spike�s sac made the blonde try to roll away. Liam held him down; palm splayed out over his chest and pulled two of the tiny pegs off, watching tears of pain prick the blue eyes.
�No, no more please��
Liam gritted his teeth, remembered the three bodies he had left in the other room and that he was sort of on a schedule, and pulled the three remaining off in quick succession. Spike howled and twisted and coughed like he was going to throw up.
After a minute or so, Liam tried to pull him up but froze as Spike jerked back with a yelp as he was rolled onto his butt. He lay back, letting the waves of pain wash through him.
�Sorry.� Liam whispered, feeling awful.
He leant down and hooked his arms under Spike�s body lifting him up, turning and placing him slowly on the floor, like he was a fragile fine china or glass, a treasure - easily breakable. His knees buckled and he grabbed onto Liam�s duster. Liam noticed Spike�s back and hands were beet-red. All the blood had rushed and pooled.
�How long have you been there�?� He asked cautiously.
�I don�t know,� The blonde answered softly, sing song tone in his voice, �What day is it?� His eyes were flicking from Liam�s face then dancing around the room, then back to stare at Liam�s face again. Liam held onto his arm and helped him hobble from the room. He gasped once out in the hallway. Liam realised he�d left the door to the middle room wide open, and Spike was, understandably, surprised by what lay inside.
Brucker was bleeding and torn open, taped up and the two other bodies were lying in a pool of red that spread out into the corridor like a grasping sickness.
Spike mouth was open wide and he turned druggedly to look at Liam closely for the first time, looking shocked as he discovered Liam had three long blades hanging from his jacket sleeve. Bloodstained blades.
�They would have shot me.� Liam said defensively, pushing the blades back under his coat.
Spike blinked.
Liam turned him away from the door. �Spike � who else is here right now?�
He shook his head slowly, eyes on the sleeve that held the sharp steel. �What?�
�Please Spike, think. Who�s in the house?�
Spike breathed a long sigh through his nose. �Gate guard, um the � men in the room with me, � they�ll be in the kitchen. I think. Uh � the maid? Cook �� He shook his head overwhelmed. The sun was setting slowly, the sky through the windowed walls - pink and purple and yellow with blue clouds. Spike�s skin was darkened by the light, his hair silvered where the light edged into the messy harsh-looking strands. His eyes were focused on the sky. Liam smiled softly.
�Alright.� He talked softly, trying not to disturb the man as he gazed placidly out the windows. The view was reflected on his eyes, a bright gleam. �Now, no one knows what happened, uh, here� Does anyone come round this way? Would they see�?� He looked pointedly into the room.
Spikes eyes suddenly animated. He limped to the wall, slipping a little in the blood spewing forth into the hall, like slipping on a soapy shower floor, before he rested his hand on the wall and pressed on the little plastic box stuck there. It was an intercom.
�Mr Brucker would like all staff to go to the study room and wait there for further instructions. Thankyou.�
He clicked the intercom off and turned slowly, his feet still wet from the blood and making long footprints on the floor of red paint. �That reaches everywhere in the house, outside and all.�
Liam smiled again, broadly.
�And,� Spike continued, his voice rasping, �The study only has one door in. The windows don�t open.�
�Good plan.�
�Thankyou.� He husked.
�Stand still, okay?� Liam went back into the room and pulled a fresh pair of trainers from one of the bags.
He always had a back up strategy. This one was quite simple: If Brucker didn�t take the money, he�d kill him.
He had packed extra shoes in case things got � messy. Which they had. He didn�t want to track blood all over the house. He pulled a plastic bag from one of the suitcases, and shoved his old shoes into it. He came back to Spike, who looked relieved.
The soft white webs of skin between his toes were starting to glug with red. His face was pinched.
�One more second.� Spike nodded as Liam pulled out his cell phone.
�Hey. It�s Angel. I got a job.� Spike watched him intently, his eyes flicking around. He scratched at his inner arms, antsy. �100 grand for it. Three bodies.�
He was silent for a moment, before he gave the cell phone the address of Brucker�s house. �Got someone with me, but he�s fine. See you then.�
He hung up and promptly crushed the phone in his fist, dropping the shattered plastic into the bag with his shoes. He tied the bag and left it just inside the room, before he lifted the cold naked man up over his shoulder, holding his feet close so the blood wouldn�t flick. He smelled the salt of the men�s spend, and the clinical smelling lubricant they had used. His stomach turned. He could feel welts running up the back of Spike�s thighs.
�Where�s your shower and your clothes?�
Spike directed Liam down the hall and through a wide sitting room, into the room Spike slept in. He didn�t put the man down until he was in the shower stall. He reached past his docile body and turned the shower on for him, and then asked for direction to the study.
He left Spike to wash and headed for the room, finding it and pushing the door closed, ignoring the surprised squeals of the people inside. He pushed a heavy table in front of it, feeling the veins in his neck about to burst.
He then wandered for a few agonizing minutes until he found a cupboard with laundry supplies in it. He located some bleach and made his way quickly back to Spike He burst in the bathroom, spooking Spike like a scared horse as he waited anxiously for Liam's return.
�What�s going to happen?� the blonde asked after he had calmed.
Liam squatted and lifted one of Spike�s feet. White clean. �Some people are going to get here soon. They used to �get rid� of the dead fighters from my ground. I�m giving them a lot of money to make the evidence disappear.�
He put a towel on the floor and pulled Spike�s wet body onto it. Drops of water rolled onto Liam�s clothes, over his fingers. �I don�t want you to transfer anything.�
Spike nodded and Liam set to work quickly, but thoroughly, cleaning out the shower stall with the bleach. After, he picked Spike and the towel up carefully and put them both in the large outer room. He looked around. It was almost sterile.
�Where�s all your stuff?�
Spike pointed to a stack of boxes in one corner. �In those. I didn�t unpack. I didn�t want it to feel like home.�
Liam looked at him for a second before going to them and grabbing some jeans and a black shirt out of the cartons for Spike to wear. He gave them to Spike but noticed he was wincing as he bent pathetically slow to put his leg in the jeans, and rushed to help him.
Liam ran into the sitting room and found a small table that held what he was looking for. He came back with a stapler and grabbed another towel from the bathroom. He lay it on the ground next to the one Spike was standing on. He lifted Spike�s left foot and spread it gently so that Spike had a foot on each towel. He stapled each up around Spike�s feet and ankles.
�What are you doing?� Spike asked, clearly mystified.
�Trust me.� He finished his stapling and put the device in his pocket. He stood. �Brucker�s makes a lot of movies here, right?�
Spike�s face blurred with a pain that was akin to being punched in the gut. Liam�s chest twisted. He stepped close and kissed him on the lips leaning his forehead against Spike�s. �I only ask because I�m looking for costumes. A mask. Anything like that?�
Spike nodded slightly, closing his eyes, basking in the moment, the closeness. �In the room, �where you fou � through the other door.�
�Alright.� He kissed his forehead. �Now, I want you to do something alright?�
Spike nodded almost eagerly.
�Take these boxes to the front door, alright? And anything else in the house that belongs to you.�
Spike nodded again, his mind ticking over everything that might be his, anything he had left anywhere.
�Don�t go past the place where I found you alright? Go a different way. And try not to go past the study either. Is there another way, without going outside?�
Spike thought for a moment. He nodded. �Good. Now. This is the most important thing, alright.� He pulled Spike close to him, noticing he was distracted, on edge, he wanted to be sure he had his attention. �If men come into the house, big men with guns I want you to scream that you�re with Angel. Okay? Angel. Say it for me.�
�Tell them I�m with Angel.�
�Yes. As soon as you see anyone at all, even think you see someone. Scream that name. Angel, got it?�
�Angel.�
�Good. Keep saying it.�
It was very important the cleaners knew Spike was with him. They had a tendency to kill anything they didn�t recognize. No witnesses. But they would recognize his fight name. Liam didn�t want Spike gunned down by some trigger-happy psycho, but he couldn�t take Spike with him for what he was about to do. What he had to. He didn�t want Spike to see. And Spike could remove all the traces of himself more easily than Liam could.
�Good?�
�Good.� Spike answered.
Liam ran back to the horrible room and shook the container of bleach all over it. Over the chair Spike was in, over the floor. Over the chains. Burning away the big traces. He ran into the connecting room, where Spike had told him and rummaged around to find two balaclavas, long, with no mouth holes. Liam nodded, satisfied; he thought Brucker would include these in his movies.
He came back out and went back to Brucker. Surprisingly, the man was still awake.
Fading fast.
But still awake. He strode up to him and poured bleach into the man�s wounds removing any trace of the bacteria his claw may have carried.
Brucker squealed, his face wet with sweat, the heavy copper stink of his blood clouding the room like smog.
Liam didn�t care.
He turned, careful of the puddles, and did the same on the already dead men. He put on the balaclava and pulled the gun from the dead mans hand, He went to the study and burst through the door, holding the gun high.
The staff recoiled in terror, the maid started bawling. Liam�s stomach growled, agitated. He wasn�t a killer. But he had to get rid of one. The guard who had let him in at the gate. He had seen him � his mind started to put up a fight for the man, telling Liam that he could scare him, scare him like he would the rest, and that would be enough.
But the others hadn�t seen him, they couldn�t tie him to Spike. And it was important that nothing of this got tied to Spike.
Before Liam had fully made up his mind, the guard reached for his weapon and Liam shot instinctively, aiming for his head. He died instantly.
But the guard had known the risks.
There were always risks.
The women screamed and Liam pointed to gun at her, silencing her with fear. �Wallets.� He growled.
Immediately, a small pile of wallets and purses fell to the ground. Liam took them all, shoving them into another plastic bag.
�Alright, listen.� He told the shocked mass. �Any of you breathe a word about anything, about anyone in this house, I will find you and kill you, alright? You worked for Brucker. You never saw this guard before today, or the other two guards. Got it?� Better to have them think it was an accident he was covering up. They would never know anything else. Nothing about Spike. They would think he had died accidentally as well. Because by the time these people would venture out, the guards and Brucker would have disappeared.
And so would Spike.
The people nodded. The wallet steal/threaten routine was a dog and pony show that always worked so grandly.
�Dead. Family. Dead. Cause you don�t know anyone that disappeared, Only Brucker.�
They nodded again.
�Do not leave this room until tomorrow, you got that? We�ll all still be out there �til then and you do not want to test us.�
The woman was sniveling as Liam left the room and jogged into the foyer to see five huge men looking cramped in the massive lobby. He froze.
One, a huge meaty black man, was holding Spike�s neck, pulling him close. Liam didn�t want to say anything, in case he startled them. The man had the steel, cruel muzzle of a gun pressed into Spike�s temple.
Spike had his eyes clenched closed and he was whispering � Angel � over and over. He looked like a child, a rag doll in the huge man�s hands.
Liam spoke softly pulling off the balaclava. Hey, guys.�
The men turned to him all smiles; the black man had the chunky expanse of his hand around the back of Spike�s bruised neck. His sausage fingers could almost close around the throat, could crush the life from him very easily. Spike�s head was tilted at a strange angle, his head bent away from the steel pressing into his skull. His eyes flicked open and focused on Liam, blue-huge and terrified.
�Angel,� the man said, in a joy filled rumble. �This one with you?� He shook Spike in Liam�s direction.
�Yes. He�s with me. Let him go.�
The men laughed and let Spike go. He didn�t move, still mouthing � Angel � repeatedly. Liam stepped forward and dragged Spike from the cleaners.
He knew enough about them to respect them. Their power. And their brutality.
Two of the group were black, three white. They averaged about six and a half foot and their muscles were pumped and ready, straight from San Quentin. He didn�t know their names. They were just �the cleaners� they did a job like Harvey in Pulp Fiction did a job. Like the cleaners in La Femme Nikita. But they were real. And they were respected.
He�d met them a few times; they were always laughing and joking. They were pretty nice to Liam, because he had been a favourite fighter of theirs.
They liked him, but they made Liam�s blood run cold through his veins, cause he knew that they�d kill him for the right price. They�d kill anything for the right price. And they�d enjoy it, too.
Which is why they were so respected.
It was business.
�This way.� He led them, �Three dead, one almost if not already.� He turned back to the men and smiled, �Have fun.�
The men hopped and hooted.
�Six staff in the study, across the house. The last body is there, but try not to kill the others? They�ve been warned.�
�Can do.�
Spike was lagging, not wanting to be too close to the rabble. He looked almost shy with his arms around himself, his neck inky. Liam tried to reassure him with a smile, but his eyes were on the ground.
He walked them to the video rooms and they looked inside, another howl of excitement filled the air. The black man who had held Spike turned to him.
�Angel flies again huh?�
They all laughed and clapped his back. A bald white one leant down and inspected the slashed guard.
�And with the claw�� He looked up, eyes shining in an almost pathological glee. �My favourite�
�This place looks like the ring after our Azrael has sought to smite.� Said another white, one with long dreadlocks. The others looked at him blankly. He sighed. �Azrael is the Islamic Angel of Death.�
They laughed. �Angel of Death, brill, aye!� Yelled one.
The hooting continued for a while before the men started to settle down.
�One more thing?� Asked Liam.
They turned, eyebrows raised, snapping gloves on.
�Room, a bedroom down the hall from here and through a sitting room. The window looks out over a fountain, and the sheets are messy. Clean it. Trace free, bed sheets and all. Oh and the rooms next to this as well, plus,� He ripped his shirt off, leaving only the white �beater beneath and tossed it on top of one of the dead men. He then walked to Spike who was sedately waiting at the end of the hall and pulled the towels of his feet, picking him up. He tossed the towels at them too. �Anywhere else?� He asked Spike.
�Uh � Brucker�s room.�
The men catcalled and hollered as Spike tried to sink into Liam�s shoulder.
�Top floor.� He murmured.
�Alright, we�ll clean it up, boy. Now, my Angel, where�s the cash?� one of them asked, drawing the syllable out like a snakes hiss. Liam handed Spike to one of the men to keep him off the floor and went into the room. He hefted one of the bags and threw it out into the hall. They opened it.
�100 grand.� He called. He pulled some more wads out of the bag he kept. He shoved them at the bald man. �With a twenty five k bonus for helping me out with the rooms and the extra guy.�
Another round of shouting from the huge men, with dreadlocks hugging him in his sweaty arms.
�You de best, Angel.�
�Now,� Said the man holding Spike, �Take your pet and fuck the fuck off. We gots some work to do.� Liam took him back, smiling as Spike snuffled laughter into his ear at the treatment. He balanced the bag of money on his other shoulder.
They left the cleaners, happy and psychotic, pleased with the blood and the chaos. Bruckers screams of pain followed them as they walked silently through the manse. He carried Spike out to his car, parked on the round gravelled driveway.
The sky was darkening; the light pinks of the sky had given way to darker blues and black clouds stretching out across like darkened fairy-floss.
He put the man inside and then jogged back and forth a few times to pack the back with Spike�s boxes, as Spike watched, his cool blue eyes calmed and intense. He pulled some shoes out for the man. Boots. The sound of Spike�s boots thudding against the desk as Liam thrust made the man smile at the memory.
Liam backed the car up and put it in first, driving slowly past the white faux-electric van the cleaners used, and out onto the street.
They steadily clocked up the miles between them and Brucker and the rooms and all of it.
Spike was sitting on his knees in the seat, facing Liam, his butt to sore to sit properly. He watched him drive, eyes flicking down every time the gear changed. After a while, the sky now black, Spike leant across and draped his arm behind Liam�s neck, kissing his ear, and stroking his head. He smelled sweet. There were hardly any marks on his body in the dark. Hidden.
�Liam?�
�Yeah?�
�Did you mean everything you said?�
�Like what?�
He was silent. He pulled at Liam�s hair gently. �That you love me.�
�Yeah, but shhh. I don�t want it getting around.� He smiled at the blonde.
Spike was looking down at Liam�s hand on the gearstick. He started stroking it softly with his free fingers. �No ones ever told me that before.� He paused. �Well they have, but never with their pants on.�
He kissed him again, and Liam�s body didn�t even register the scratchy bristles tickling his face. All he felt was his heart pounding erratically.
�Where are we going?�
�Not sure. But we are getting the hell out of Dodge.�
�Are we?� Spike asked excitedly.
�You don�t mind?�
�No.�
�Good. Pick a place. We�ll go there.�
�Sunny. Someplace� sunny.�
�What about an Island in the sun,� Liam murmured into Spike�s ear as they stopped at a red light. The blonde grinned sexily. �Got a passport?�
�No�� Spike answered carefully.
�Don�t worry. I�ll buy you one.�
Spike laughed as the car took off again, rocking against Liam. �Free with the money aren�t you? Don�t spend it on me. You�ll get yourself in bigger debt than you are now.�
�What makes you think I�m in debt?�
Spike smirked, his eyes sentimental. He purred in his ear. �I have about 190 reasons why I think you�re in debt.�
Liam looked at him nodding. Spike was happy though. Happy he could mean that much to someone. He smiled gratefully. His eyes were speaking volumes. Melancholy and indebted and hopeful. And love. They were filled with so much love, love for him, that Liam�s mind and body sang.
�It means a lot. That you came for me.�
�I know.�
�Liam?� Spike licked up his earlobe. �Don�t worry about anything. Trust me. I can pay you back. Not soon, but � in time. I can.� He sounded uncertain, but then his voice filled with suggestion. �Will you stay with me until I do?�
Liam laughed.
�I could pay you back in trade�� His words dripped with sex and chocolate. His fingers tickled along the tope of Liam�s pants, brushing against the skin under his shirt.
�Not trade.� Liam giggled.
Spike looked up and his lips curled in a sad smile, his fingers kept stroking.
�Never again.�
Spike grinned and let out a small hysterical bark of a laugh.
�That�s gone now. Its over. Just me and you now.�
Spike�s hand wrapped around Liam�s hip bone, palm against his belly as he leant down to kiss Liam�s neck. �Youre getting the better deal.�
�Oh am I?� Liam laughed, as Spike nodded, childlike in his joke. He ran his fingers delicately over Liam�s thigh, massaging the muscles.
�Don�t worry about paying me back. Never even think about it, alright?� Liam said, starting to pant as Spike worked open his fly. �It doesn�t matter.�
�My company is all you need?� He leered. He leant in to kiss him, brushing his lips against Liam�s. Comfortable and safe, and everything in the world, was Spike�s kiss. Everything he wanted.
�Well that. Plus I have like, four million in the bank.�
Liam slowed down to thump Spike�s back as the man inhaled his spittle and started choking on it
***
Two years, eight months later. ..
***
Burning mid morning sun flamed in beams through the wide bedroom windows, as Liam lay back naked on top of the sheets.
His body ached.
Albeit, pleasantly.
As the digital clocks numbers flicked over to 10:43, he regretfully decided he should probably go have a shower to start the day.
The air was sticky and humid, the paddle-fan swooping loudly on the ceiling managing only to move the heavy air around fractionally.
Liam padded into the bathroom and felt the boards depress slightly beneath his toes. The outer door that connected the bathroom to outside was wide open, revealing a door framed view of the smooth white sand and scrub bushes that rolled down the short hill to the ocean. He didn�t know how many times he�s asked Spike to shut the door. Spike just smiled every time, falling to his knees and licking wet his pink lips until they turned dark and enticing, looking up with eyes that could make a nun�s thighs wet.
Liam never stayed irritated for long.
Crunchy ivory granules crinkled under his feet as he closed the outer door. He hardly even noticed it now, sand just got everywhere. It was all over the floors of the house, in the chairs, in the sheets, in his ears.
Sand didn�t bother him anymore.
It had when he and Spike had first moved in, but Liam had never lived next to a beach before. Neither had Spike, but he loved it, adapted immediately. His frosted porcelain skin had soon turned a burnt light brown, freckles dotting his shoulders and back.
He freckled easily.
A month in Barbados and Spike�s nose had been dusted with brown dots, stealing years from his face.
Liam found him just as gorgeous as ever.
He stepped into the lukewarm jet of the shower, just hot enough to take the bite from freezing cold, and soaped himself up, massaging through his lengthy hair and feeling grains of sand against his scalp, behind his ear.
There was sand in the bed, scattered around, hiding.
Spike had gone to swim at eleven the previous night, and had come back wet and sandy, climbing on top of Liam�s body and shaking the grit and sea water over him as he tried, laughing, to push him off. Spike had clung to him though, and soon the humid air had been filled with grunts and moans and the thudding of skin against skin as Liam had thrust into the trouble-maker, calming him, tiring the mischievous play out of him. Liam had found over the years, that an orgasm was the best way to distract Spike when he was set out to irritate.
He could still feel Spike�s wet hands grasping around the base of his neck as he whimpered and squeezed around him, still hears the waves loud swishing back and forth as Liam had slid into the body beneath following the rhythm of the water.
He cleaned the sand off as best he could and stepped out of the shower, immediately picking up stray granules on the base of his wet feet. He dried as he wandered back to his bedroom and pulled on some below the knee shorts and a wifebeater.
He padded through the oblong house to the kitchen. Nearly all rooms sat with a window out to the beach, the bedroom, kitchen, bathroom and spare room. The living room sat behind the kitchen, with a view out through the large kitchen/dining room. The rooms were large and spacious, giving the illusion of a coolness that could be found nowhere. Spike liked the heat though. He�d never been to an tropical island before, had only ever lived in cities. He loved the house, and had tried to deter Liam from buying it in both their names, secretly happy that Liam had ignored him.
The front door opened into the living room, front the front yard that had become their backyard. Anyone who came to the front door had to get past the huge red Irish setter that resided in the front yard. Klepto, so named because as a puppy he had a tendency to steal underwear and socks from the bedroom and take them into his kennel, spent most of his time barking at anyone who was taking a stroll up the quiet, dirt road they lived on. They had fenced him in the front, because their back yard was basically the beach. He was allowed in the house though, Spike had been adamant that he could be with the dog at all times. He still lived up to his name, the kleptomaniac had just stolen three of Liam�s shirts, found dirty and dog slobbered in his kennel, Spike had brought them in giggling his ass off. Klepto had been one of Spike�s Christmas presents. The first Christmas present Liam had ever given him.
Liam smiled as he heard a loud bark, sipping the plain coffee he�d made, leaning against the floor to ceiling windows that faced to beach.
He admired the view. What a view.
Spike was down on the white sands wearing black and white boardies that hung wet to mid calf and one of the wooden stretch necklaces that were in vogue with the locals. His shorter, bristly red head was darting back and forth as Klepto chased him with bounds and leaps, barking sporadically.
Spike was laughing. He was always laughing now.
He wrestled the huge dog to the sand, shrieking and roaring happily as it snapped at him playfully. He pushed it and then ran into the waves, tripping over something and crashing down backwards into the water.
Liam sipped his coffee and snorted a giggle, echo-ey into the mug.
Klepto was dog paddling around Spike who was lazily kicking in the slow foam frosted green-blue. His head turned towards the house and he spotting his voyeur against the window. He waved, sending a huge sparkling arc of water over the dog. Liam kissed the air at him in response.
He came out of the water and Liam sighed an almost moan of longing through his nose as Spike ran up the beach, wet and smiling, the big dog nipping at his heels.
Through the windows Liam saw Spike come to the house and pull a towel he�d left hanging on a small tree, drying himself quickly, grinning at Liam the whole while, eager to get inside to him. His chest and face were reddened, a bit burnt; and his nose seemed to be in a constant state of peeling slightly. Liam smothered his giggles by sipping at the hot coffee.
He thudded onto the porch and stamped a few times, uselessly trying to rid himself of the sand. The kitchen door banged open and Spike catapulted in, with the same gusto and energy he did everything. He wrapped Liam up in his warm tanned arms, kissing him like he hadn�t seen him for years. Liam held his coffee up over his head so Spike wouldn�t bump it, cheerily reminded of all the other times Spike had attacked him in the kitchen making him spill whatever was unlucky enough to be in the enthusiastic man�s way.
His eyes were bright blue.
Bright before, now even brighter against the tanned-red of his face.
He wrinkled his nose, making the light freckles jump together. Liam just drank in the sight of him. He was still so perfect. Still the be-all of Liam�s world. Hardly a moment passed when Spike didn�t push his way spoilt and pouting to the centre of Liam�s mind. Spike grinned, happily letting Liam stare at him like he did so often. He didn�t mind.
His short red chestnut hair had sand in it, he smelled like the sea and his breath was tinged with Froot-Loops and his eyelashes were wet and clumped together.
Liam felt his stomach flip like he was falling in love all over again. Every day. Every moment. It hadn�t changed. It never would.
�Good morning, Luv.� He purred, his rumble sending waves of lust to Liam�s cock, his tongue flicking out enticingly over his teeth. �Nice sleep?�