Title: Streetwalker
Author: Inca
Lights a fire under my arse at [email protected]
Rating R - m/m sex
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: For more stories by me, come to http://www.geocities.com/slasherphiles/, always open...
Inspired by many:
Firstly Ghostforge! FGF challenge #24: When a lonely and depressed, alcoholic Private Detective takes a Case from a handsome Peroxide Blond Englishman, he can't deny his attraction to his new Client...
Fox � �In the midnight of my rose garden�. Read that for a much better spin on a pro Spike. :)
Dante Gabriel Rosetti �this Spike is my male, 21st century version of �Jenny.
***
Like a rose shut in a book
In which pure women may not look
� �Jenny� Dante Gabriel Rosetti
***
�You wanta coffee?�
Liam sat at the desk in the inner office; the setting sun pouring through the large window behind him as it slowly sank below the insanely proud skyscrapers of Los Angeles.
�Yeah, get me one before you go.� He said back to the office. Doyle was in there somewhere.
Their offices consisted of two small offices and a thin strip of foyer that opened into the corridor. They shared the small building with a big second hand bookstore, run by Mr Toutsis, a large man who wore glasses too small for his wide face, that sat on the top level and a pawnshop that shared the bottom floor with them, sitting across the corridor. The pawnshop was owned by a woman that they only knew as Sarah who employed her biker boyfriend to man the store. His name was Bits and his face was covered in silver. He and Doyle went drinking often, and Bits had opened a whole new source of informants to them among his buddies. Invaluable to private investigators who always needed sources.
He could hear Doyle clinking around heating the water and spooning coffee into the mugs.
They had opened the detective agency a few years ago and somehow, still managed to make a small profit each year. He had met Doyle in Mannys, a sports bar, where Liam had spent most of his time once he left his old job. Doyle had come over from Ireland, for reasons that still seemed nebulous, and had no job. He knew how to ride the street grease though. Liam had helped a friend of his find something valuable that had been taken from him. Valuable, and very illegal. Doyle had helped him by using snitches and sources of information Liam didn�t have. And through this one success, one celebratory drunken night, they had gone into business together.
�Check came through from Missus Dolorey.� Doyle called rustling with papers out in the foyer.
�Good. Bit late.�
�Bit, yeah.�
Mrs Dolorey was an uptown woman who had employed Lee Doyle Investigative Services to find out whether her fifteen-year-old daughter had been sleeping with her maths teacher. Turned out she had been and Liam told her mother as much. With pictures. That�s what their work consisted of, mainly. Following people, cheating spouses chiefly, but they�d also helped out workers compensation companies a few times. Found missing persons, ran background checks on caregivers or employees.
He and Doyle had a silent agreement. Liam put in the longer hours, following leads, shaking down informants while Doyle worked shorter hours but covered them on the administration front. He did the accounting, made sure they got paid and did the research. It worked. Liam knew nothing about legitimate business, while Doyle didn�t have Liam�s six foot, wide shouldered frame to scare information out of people or his fighting abilities when people didn�t want to be scared. Liam knew how to handle a fight.
He�d grown up without a mother, his father a drunk and unemployed. He�d always been an angry kid, and he�d put the anger to use by joining the ranks of the USFR, Underground Street Fighting Ring. Underground because for one thing, it employed underage kids like himself, Liam had joined when he was fifteen, but also because USFR had no rules about what you could take into the fights. Liam had fought against his opponents with chains and knives, sticks and once even been in a genuine sword fight, while a bloodthirsty crowd cheered them on. He still carried bumps and scars from his fighting years, plus a tattoo on his back bearing the initial of his fight alias: Angel.
So-called as he was beaten so badly in his third ever fight that the manager thought he�d have to be buried, but amazingly, he�d risen, beaten and bloodied from the dusty floor and walked out under his own power. He�d thought he was immortal.
His favourite weapon was something he�d made himself, fashioned on his favourite Street Fighter character, Vega. Three eleven-inch razor sharp steel blades welded onto a metal flat that was strapped to the back of his hand. He�d once gotten them stuck in the belly of an opponent. Couldn�t be helped. They all knew the risks. He kept his claw, it sat in his apartment on the kitchen table, and he even took it out a few times on cases when he thought there�d be trouble.
He�d earned his reputation as one that couldn�t be fucked with.
He�d quit fighting when he was when he was twenty-four. He�d been fighting K-Hayder; a seven-foot Maori who fought with the help of a heavy chain that had been broken and filed into painful points. K-Hayder had been winning; Liam could already feel he had broken ribs from the damn chain, when he�d knocked Liam�s feet out from underneath him. Liam shivered as he remembered it. He had gotten to his knees, ready to quit out of the fight when K-Hayder had started swinging the chain around in one huge meaty fist, and swung it down at Liam�s head. Liam had put his forearm up in an attempt to stop it but the chain had wrapped around it and slammed into the side of his face. He woke up four months later in hospital, unable to see out of his right eye. A doctor told him that while he had been in a coma, they had operated on his eye to retrieve a slice of metal that had become lodged in it. He�d had three more operations on his right eye, but the doctors had been able to save his sight. The last operation had been what sealed it. He�d received a needle in his eye while he was awake and it had been the most frightening thing that had ever happened to him. For the first time he�d been faced with his own mortality, and realised that he wasn�t an Angel. He might not have come back from the dead like he did in that fight that had made him immortal. He�d gone to his boss at the USFR and received his pay, giving his notice on the spot. He still had to see an ophthalmologist twice a year, and be subjected to receiving needles in his eye. He was sensitive to light, he always got headaches and he tried to avoid being punched in the right side of the face.
But he still missed the cheers and chants sometimes.
Doyle wandered into the room with the mugs. He was dressed in black rumpled pants and a blue shirt that highlighted his eyes but also the sallowness of his thin face. His black hair was actually brushed back for once. He stopped and smiled at the man. �Still remembering your glory days?�
Liam lifted an eyebrow.
Doyle knew everything about him, he was his best friend. His only friend that he�d had since he�d quit. He continued in his heavy Irish lilt. �You get this sorta � wistful look on your face when you are. Easy to spot.�
�You should�ve seen me Doyle. I was unstoppable.�
�Aye, I believe you. I�ve seen you use that claw thingy of yours.� He made slashing motions through the air.
Liam smiled.
�You really miss it sometimes don�t you?�
�Hard not to miss.� He leant forward to get his mug. �But I also miss having my eye work normally too.�
Doyle nodded. �Here.� He passed Liam a check. �Dolorey�s.�
He looked at the amount on the slip of paper. They�d been payed well. And so they should. Liam had crouched in the mud and freezing rain outside the maths teacher�s house for five days straight to capture those Kodak moments.
�Why don�t they ever pay in cash?� Liam grumbled. Creative bookkeeping was another of Doyle�s talents, and Liam knew it was easier to do when they were paid in cash.
�Ah, Tell me about it.� Doyle grinned slipping down into one of the �client� chairs in front of Liam�s desk. �What are ye doing tonight, then?�
�At one I have to go to Deakes and meet the snitch on the Merroll case.� He said, sipping his coffee. The dark bitter and sweet taste filled his mouth.
Mark Merroll was an elderly man who was being blackmailed by an unknown woman who had pictures of Merroll and his sixteen-year-old babysitter. And, Liam believed, they would not be pictures of Merroll and the girl babysitting Mrs Merroll�s six-month-old baby.
�Long night?�
�Long night.� Liam agreed. Doyle looked at his watch. �You off?�
�Yeah, I better go. Don�t want to keep her waiting.� He tried to leave the coffee cup on Liam�s desk but the man tutted and frowned until he picked it up again.
�You�re anal retentive you know?�
�I don�t want your skanky cup on my desk. Clean it yourself.� Liam grinned sipping his own again. �You seeing her again?�
Doyle nodded, huge grin on his face. He really liked this girl. Liam was happy for him but now Doyle spent all his time with Cord. He knew it wouldn�t be long until Doyle started cutting down his hours to have the �normal life� he was always obsessing about. Then he�d never see him.
�Yup. You should see her, man, she�s just chopped all the long hair off, its short now, she�s beautiful.�
�How long now?�
�Six months next week.�
�You�ll need a present.� Liam observed.
�And some time off?� Doyle asked hopefully. �You don�t mind do ya? We�re pretty quiet.�
Liam rolled his eyes. �Whatever. Just as long as I get some details.�
Doyle pulled on his leather jacket and looked in mock surprise. �Me? I�m one to kiss and tell?�
�Living vicariously through you. I work nearly every day. And you? You write on some paper and you�re off. Tell me who got the better deal in this partnership.� Liam asked laughing. They both knew it worked. Liam loved doing what he did.
�Me. I get to impress girls with the fact I am a P.I. But I don�t actually have to do anything remotely dangerous. Meanwhile, you have the stories � but no time to tell them to anyone.� He grinned.
�Piss off you loser.�
�You�re the loser. Have a good night.�
Liam sat and heard the door to the outer office close. He leant back in his chair and pulled open his drawer, pulling out some bourbon and pouring it into his mug. He sipped it.
**
At about quarter to nine, Liam decided to close up the offices and get some food. He switched off the lamps and grabbed his duster of the chair. Checking for money as he walked his head buzzing a bit from the alcohol, he stepped out the door and into a hard body.
�Hey!� the man said, jerking back with irritation smothering his high fine features.
Liam stepped back into the dark office. �Sorry.� He stuttered looking at the man. Liam had never seen any man that looked like him before.
He was shorter that Liam, about five ten, with pale skin and cheekbones that slashed his face. He had peroxided hair, gelled back in slight waves. A tight red shirt gripped his chest showing off his lean frame and shiny leather pants hugged his hips and thighs. He looked up with cool blue eyes. Liam was reminded of the books of paintings that his art teacher had given him, back when he still went to school. Paintings of Greek mythos, beautiful people dancing around lusty gods, that�s what this man immediately reminded him of.
�Yeah.� The man said stepping forward right up against Liam, forcing him to back up. �The lights are all off. Are you closed?� he asked in a deep voice, roughened by a cockney accent.
�I was getting something. But it can wait. How can I help?� he asked, quickly snapping on a lamp. He walked into his office noting the man followed him and snapped on another lamp. He turned to see the man, dark eyebrow cocked, openly appraising Liam with a slight smile pout. Liam was a little unnerved but he tried not to show it, moving behind the desk and motioning for the man to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of it.
�You a detective?� he asked, ignoring the chairs and perching on the corner of the desk across from Liam, twisting his body and hiking a slim thigh onto the wood to look at the detective.
�Yes. I am.�
�I thought detectives were always old buggers.� He smirked.
�Well. I�m not.� Liam said, returning the avid gaze of the man on the desk. He was really beautiful. And he didn�t know where that thought had come from. Maybe because this man seemed to exude sex from his pores. That look, Liam had seen that look on women who wanted to go to bed with him, that look never left this man�s face.
�I have a problem.�
�Which is?� Liam said blandly, trying not to show how uncomfortable the blonde was making him.
�All my friends are getting beaten and raped.� He answered, expressionless.
Liam coughed a little in shock. �Excuse me?�
He rolled his eyes and blew air out his mouth in a sigh. �A man comes to my friends. He says things will get rough and all tha�. They go to a hotel, never the same one, and then he beats them for a while and then,� he shrugged. �He fucks �em.�
�Ah. Alright.� Liam said, trying to process this. �You want me to find the man?�
�Yeah.� The man looked at him like he was slow. �And stop him would also be nice. Can I smoke?� he stood as Liam shook his head at the question.
�Bloody hell cant smoke anywhere.� He walked to the bookshelves and started poking through them. �So, you do things like that?�
�Yes. Well things like it, Mr��
�Spike.� He filled in not turning around.
�Mr Spike?�
�Just Spike.� He got bored with the shelves and came to slump in one of the chairs in front of Liam.
�Well� Spike� did these women have anything in common? Anyone have grudges against them or want to hurt them? A reason this man would go after them.�
�Well the thing they had in common is that they�re all whores. And also Marlowe? They were men.� He smirked, putting his feet up on the table.
Liam felt his face flinch a little in embarrassment at the oversight, but tried to remain in control of the conversation, frowning at the boots on his table. �Right. Well any reason he�d go after them?�
Spike thought for a little. �They were all young, early twenties, and they were all, like, lookers.�
�Okay. Do they remember what the man looked like?�
�Um, pretty much. Well Ix put him at about 40. Dark hair��
�And Ix is?� Liam asked.
�My room mate. The bastard got him last night. Did a number on him too.�
�Right. Go on.� He looked over Spike again, taking in the tight clothes and wondered if he too was a whore.
�Dark hair, um, rich, big shoulders and arms, like he was a builder or a footy player, huge cock, like, massive according to Ix.�
Liam drew back in his seat. �Alright thanks, probably don�t need to know that.�
Spike smirked. �Sorry.�
�Obviously. Any distinguishing marks your friends remember?�
�Yeah. A tattoo. On his hand, here.� Spike held up his hands and used a black tipped finger to point to the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger. �Stars or something. Blue ink.�
�Alright.� Liam jotted this down in a notebook. �And how many friends have been attacked?�
�Seven. That I know of.�
�Seven. And no one went to the Police?� Liam asked, confused.
Spike snorted, hate immediately clouding his eyes. �You think the pols care? We tried when Demien got attacked. He was the second. But because the guy paid and said he liked it rough, the pigs say we haven�t got a thing. They don�t even try. Arseholes.�
�Why don�t you all just not go with guys who say they like it rough?�
Spike looked at him condescendingly. �Do you know how many guys say that?�
�Uh. No.�
�We�d lose half our money.�
�Oh. Right. What about not going with guys who have tattoos on their hands?�
�Yeah yeah that�s all well and good for us, who know, but what about the ones that don�t? And what about the ones who have been hit, aye? Just because we get paid to fuck doesn�t mean we have to be beaten so badly we can�t walk. Are you going to do this or not?�
He was getting annoyed, his eyes flashing with emotion.
�I�ll do it.�
�Good.�
�Are you in any danger?� Liam asked cautiously, trying to find a way to ask subtly.
�You asking if I hook?� The smirk was back.
�Yes. I guess I am.�
�I do.�
�Alright.� Said Liam, not sure why he wanted to know, and not sure what to do with the information, now that he had it. He looked back at Spike, who was staring back at him, a small smile on his elegant face. He must make a lot of money, Liam thought to himself, the johns who picked him up must think they�ve hit the jackpot. And his mind erred again and he was confused by what he was thinking.
�I�m not sure how this works. Does you sitting there silently mean we�re done or you�re thinking?� Spike asked.
�We�re done. But I�ll have to talk to your friends. Anyone who might�ve seen the rapist.�
�Some boys down in West would have. The ones that were with Ix last night? Will that help?�
�Maybe.�
�So you�re going to help us.� Spike affirmed, standing up.
�Yes.�
Spike nodded and reached into his back pocket pulling out a wad of folded bills. He held them out for Liam to take. �I think that�s enough.�
Liam shook his head. �I haven�t done anything, you pay me after, cause you don�t know how long it will take.� He said, trying not to smile at the faux pas.
Spike looked very embarrassed for a second and then put the money back in his pocket. �Right. I knew that, I just thought maybe you wanted it different.�
Liam nodded. �Would your friends be working now? The ones who saw��
�Oh yeah, you wanna see them tonight?�
Liam was trying to speed things up so he wouldn�t have to charge Spike as much. He nodded again. He led Spike out to his Plymouth after locking the office. The top was down and he unlocked it, getting in. Spike got in beside him obviously checking out his car.
�West Hollywood you said?�
Spike nodded. Liam drove. West wasn�t that far, about fifteen minutes from where the offices were. They drove in silence. A few times he noticed Spike shiver from the wind that blew over him, but Liam didn�t say anything, already knowing Spike would reject his offer to put the top up and be insulted by the question. Spike directed him with short instructions until they were driving slowly along a street dotted with boys dressed like Spike, tight sexual clothing. A few men in heavy make up hollered at them, and Spike beamed, kneeling on his seat to wave back at them.
�Friends of mine. Keep going.�
He kept going, seeing cars pull up and boys surround them, yelling and hooting about ass and cock. A few of the boys looked young, fresh faced as they joined the throng, maybe about fifteen. Liam curled his lip as he saw a young one get into a car.
�Turn up here.� Liam did. �You�ve not been West often, have you.�
�Can�t say that I have.�
�It�s a great place.�
�Mmmm.� Liam said non-committedly.
��Ere. Park.� He did, pulling up outside a shop that seemed to be selling whips and boys came up to them.
�Oi. You two, fuck off. This is our patch.� Spike said to two Latinos that had come over.
�World ain�t yours Spike.� One said, wagging his finger at him.
�World ain�t yet, but this street is. So fuck off.�
The Latino boys strutted off calling back in Mexican. �Arseholes.� Spike muttered.
�Why don�t you like them?�
Spike looked at him disgustedly. �Ain�t their turf, that�s why. We got a prime spot, get heaps of businessmen here. They can stay with the drug fucked johns where they belong.�
�But not these guys?� Liam said indicating the boys who were leaning on the wall. An expensive BMW pulled up and they all went over to it. Liam saw a hand point at one of them, a boy with orange hair and yellow pants and he smiled, high fiveing the others as he got in.
�These guys are my friends. We all have this street.� He jumped out of the car and went over to the boys. Liam followed him.
The boys looked him over and one wolf whistled. There were about eight of them and they were all dressed similarly.
A dark bald man looked at him. �What? He want more than you Spike? You losing your touch?�
�This is the detective I hired. He�s gonna find out who keeps getting at us, so tell everyone to answer him, alright, he�s not a cop.�
A car pulled up and the boys went over to it. Spike held one back, a tall lanky looking boy, who was also very attractive.
�This is Demien.� Spike said. Liam remembered the name. The second boy who�d been raped.
�Hey.� He said. He had a low smoky voice, and he looked at Liam with green eyes. A large bruise was fading on the side of his face.
�How long ago were you�� Liam asked cautiously.
�About four weeks.� Liam looked down and saw that the boy�s wrist was wrapped up in a bandage.
�Okay, um��
Another car pulled up and a man of about late thirties leant over, looking at Spike. �Spike. You booked?�
�No Daddy, there�s only you.� He purred at the man. He turned back to Liam. �You good here?�
�Uh��
The man beeped his horn.
�Great. See ya! Get my number off Demien.� He jumped into the car and it sped off, squealing its tires.
He and Demien watched the car go.
�Right, so,� Demien looked at his watch, and then at the cars that were pulling over. �I don�t mean to be rude, but time is money.�
�You were badly beaten four weeks ago, don�t you think you should be resting?� Liam asked, feeling like a hypocrite, seeing as he never rested when he used to fight in the ring, no matter how many people told him to.
�Will you feed me, and pay my rent?� Demien rumbled, pouting at Liam playfully. He wrapped his arms around Liam�s waist. �Would you look after me?� He whispered into Liam�s ear. Liam felt his body buzz at the contact and pushed Demien's hands away gently.
�I�m straight.�
Demien looked back, his sloe-eyed face peaceful and his lips wet. He was as sexual as Spike, but in a different, more vulnerable way. Liam felt himself responding to the hands that crept back round his waist.
�Sure, baby. So am I.� Demien smiled.
He held the hands away from himself. �What did the man say to you when he picked you up?�
Demien dropped the sex eyes and pulled his hands away. �He pulled up and asked me if I was looking for a date. I said yes and hopped in. He looked normal. Then as we were driving he asked me if I liked it rough. I said yes, cause you always say yes, no matter what they�re asking. �You like to shit on people? Does it get you off?� �Sure baby.� Whatever. Then he took me to the Westend Arms, and we got in the room. And, then he backhanded me. He put this tape stuff on me, over my eyes and on my mouth and I couldn�t scream. He put the same stuff around my hands and my ankles. Then he started hitting me.�
Demien looked sick. Liam was trying to focus on the story. �He said all whores liked it rough. It went on for a while. He broke my ribs and my wrist. Then he cut my clothes off and fucked me. First with a rubber cock, then his own. He was massive and it really hurt. He came on my back and then he left me there, on the floor covered in spunk and he just left the door open.� He shrugged. �And that�s it.�
He looked back up at Liam waiting for a response.
�What did he look like?�
He sighed. �I dunno. Big. I hardly saw him. Dark hair. Maybe about 40?�
�You sat with him in the car.�
�Yeah but, every night you come out and sit in a car with someone. You don�t care. It just becomes someone who will pay you, you don�t think if they�re handsome or ugly. You don�t think to take note of their eyes or face. Who cares? They all blend into the same someone.�
�You really don�t remember?�
�Sorry. If he had an accent or something that would put him apart from everyone, make him different but there�s nothing!� he was getting worked up, his smoky voice raising a few octaves.
�It�s alright.� Liam said, trying to calm him down.
Demien sighed a shaky breath.
�Did you talk to the other boys?� Liam asked gently.
�Yeah. Exactly the same thing happened, apart from the hotel. He even called us the same thing. My sweet whore and that.�
�Here.� Liam said. �How much do you � you know. Charge.�
Demien�s sex eyes fluttered back. He wrapped his arms around Liam again. �For you? $200.�
Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out $300, the money he was going to give his informant later. �Here�s 300. Take the night off.�
Demien looked down at the money, and then looked at Liam suspiciously. He snatched the money away quickly. �What do you want?�
�Nothing.�
He narrowed his eyes, and then his face lit up in a smile. �Thanks!� he leant forward quickly and kissed Liam on the mouth, his tongue licking against Liam�s own. Liam could feel stubble brushing against his face. He pulled away and Demien was running off, obviously before Liam could change his mind.
�I can�t believe I just $300 to someone I don�t know.� He muttered under his breath. He went back to his car and got in. �Now I�m gonna have to scare the information out of the fucking snitch.� He rolled his eyes and pulled away.
As he drove he caught himself wondering if Spike was underneath the man that had picked him up. He shook his head and drove back to his apartment, and for the next couple of hours he threw himself into working out.
***
Ring ring
Liam�s eyes blinked open. Noise. Noise?
Ring ring
Phone.
He activated, sitting up and grabbing the cordless off his bedside table. Mid morning sunlight streamed through the windows and his right eye began to throb.
�Hello?� he said sleepily into the phone as he wandered around his large apartment, closing the blinds over the bright sunlight.
�Hey Lee. Informant work out?� Doyle�s voice asked, tinny through the connection.
�Um, yeah.� Liam said. His fist hurt from punching the guy. He rolled his eyes as he remembered he had to punch the guy cause he gave his money to Demien.
�Oh.� He suddenly remembered, things clicking together like a puzzle in his sleepy brain. �We had a walk-in last night.�
�Really? What kinda case?�
�Pros. Been getting beaten and raped. They wanna know who by.�
�Right. Okay.� He paused. �You get any action?�
Liam rolled his eyes again, regretting the action immediately as his eye flared angrily. �They�re men.� He said weakly.
�Oh. � You get any action?�
�No. Doyle.�
Spike�s face flicked into his mind. He wondered if the man who had taken him drove him home after �
After what? He asked himself. After he got fucked? And maybe you�re thinking about a male pro just a little too much.
�So� any thing I can do?�
�Huh? Oh yeah. Go see Kate. Ask her to find any cases with men who pay male pros, take them to motels beat then rape them. Oh. And who tie them up with tape around their hands and ankles and over their mouths and eyes.�
He could hear Doyle repeated the facts quietly as he wrote them down. �Tape over mouths, eyes, wrists, ankles got it. Anything else?�
�Mid 40�s. Dark hair, Tattoo on his hand of stars maybe.�
�Repeat offender?�
�Maybe. He hasn�t changed what he does to them since he started. The boy I questioned had talked to the other boys and he said it was all exactly the same, except the hotel.� His head began to throb mercilessly. He was resigned to the fact he was having one of his �specials� as he called them. His eye would start to throb and become irritated and then he would get a migraine from it. It was because he had blurred vision and it happened about once or twice a month, more in periods of stress.
�Alright. Check in with me later. Later later. I have a headache.�
�Right.� Doyle knew exactly what he meant by that. � Get some sleep. Oh, one more thing?�
Liam grumbled assent into the phone, sitting down in a chair he had in his bedroom. His shirt was sticking to his sweaty back. He was breathing heavy with the pain.
�Clients name. I�ll start a file.�
A flash of Spike�s eyes flashed soundlessly behind Liam�s aching eyes. �Spike.� He murmured.
�Just Spike?�
�Just Spike. If he turns up, he�s the one with peroxide blonde hair. And he�s a cockney.�
�He a�?�
�Whore? Yeah.� Liam was quiet for a moment. �Yeah he is. Bye Doyle.�
Great. Now Spike�s face was back pouting behind his lids. �Shit.� He realised he forgot to get Spike�s details of Demien last night.
His head was pounding with every heartbeat. He struggled to get up off the couch and went to his bedroom mirror hanging on the wall. His right eye was on fire, angry and red, a crimson ring round his pupil. He groaned and stumbled into his adjoining bathroom, flicking through his medicine cupboard. He found his painkillers and anti-irritants and gulped down a few of each with a few fingers of the whisky he kept in the bathroom, chasing them with some sleeping pills.
He made his way back to bed, the room tilting sickeningly. His clock blurrily read 11:41. He lay on his bed, covered in sweat, his eyes watering and his nose running clear. The pills pulled his eyes closed and he fell weightlessly into sleep.
**
He woke again at 7:13. The sun was long past set and his apartment was dark and had a residual warmth beating through it. It must�ve been a hot day. His eye felt normal and his stomach growled loud and impatiently.
He cooked and sat down to eat four eggs, bacon, sausage, fried tomatoes, three slices of bread, tinned spaghetti and coffee. He wandered around for a while, busying himself with household chores. He knew what he was waiting for but he didn�t want to admit it to himself. 7:49 was a little too early for whores to be out he thought. He went outside and got the mail, looking through the assorted bills as he dawdled back inside. He went to his bathroom, stripped the shirt and sweats he slept in and stepped into the shower. Almost eight on a Friday night. He wondered what Doyle was doing. Probably at a pub somewhere, maybe with his girlfriend. He should go to the office later and see what Doyle and Kate found.
He let the water run down his chest, warming him and sweeping away the sticky sweat.
He wondered what Spike was doing. Almost eight. Friday was probably a busy night for him, lonely guys at the end of a long week, knowing where�d they�d go to get laid, and was he thinking about Spike again? He couldn�t believe it. He�d only seen Spike for an hour, tops, and now he couldn�t get the guy out of his head.
He rolled his head under the water, feeling his hair stick back against his head.
He tried to think about other things; the other cases he was working on, television, bills, but Spike kept slipping back in front.
Tired, he put his hands on the shower wall and leant forward. He was too weak to stop his stubborn mind from going where it wanted, so he let it.
Spike.
He bowed his head and felt the water run into his nostrils a little.
Spike.
He let out a large breath he had been holding.
Spike lying down on some anonymous hotel room bed. Liam watched his profile in his mind. Spike�s lips parted and his black nailed fingers pressed a cigarette in between them. His lips tightened as he drew a breath in, until he pulled the cigarette out releasing a puff of smoke into the dark room, closing his eyes and arching his head back exposing the fine lines of his throat for Liam to see.
Liam arched his neck the same way, clenching his eyes shut as water flowed over his face.
Spike wasn�t wearing a shirt. There was a white sheet on the bed and it was pulled up to his hipbones. His eyes were dark and full of desire and promises of sin. He looked out of the corner of his eyes at Liam, drawing smoke from the slim cigarette stuck between his lips.
�Come here.� He purred, his words evoking more smoke into the unlit room. �Liam. You want me. This.� He rubbed his hand over his slim chest and continued down until it curled around something under the covers.
Spike pulled at the cigarette between his lips as Liam stepped closer. The blue eyes had turned to ice fires. �Up on the bed. Over me.� He whispered. Liam climbed on top of him looking down surprised to find he was naked. Spike looked down at his hard cock. �Is that for me?�
He reached out and Liam watched the black nails on his fingers moved up and down mesmerising him, pulling his foreskin over his head and pushing it back down.
Liam moaned in the shower. �No.�
Spike looked up, breath still smoky and heated with cigarette, eyes playfully condescending as he purred.
�You can�t resist me Liam. Don�t even try.� He tugged on the cock in his hand.
Liam came with a shout, his fantasy dissipating like the clouds of Spike�s burning cigarettes.
He breathed, motionless for a moment, before he yelled out and slammed his palms against the shower wall. He turned the water off and stood for a while, his forehead resting against the cold tiles.
**
He drove quickly through West Hollywood. He hadn�t gone back to the office as he had planned; instead he�d pulled on his dark blue button shirt on over a wifebeater and some black pants and rushed out of his apartment to drive here. He made a sharp turn and pulled up beside the boys he�d seen yesterday.
�Hey. You�re the detective.� One said, coming over to him. He was about five nine and his eyes were closely set and he was wearing what Liam was starting to think was a uniform for these guys. Tight shirt and pants, brightly coloured.
�Yeah. Is Spike here?�
�Was. Gone now. Got picked up about twenty minutes ago.�
�Gone?� he said, trying to think what his next move would be.
The boy must�ve thought he�d meant where Spike had gone because he answered: �Hanlon. Couple of blocks away. Cheap by the hour. That�s where we all try to go. Safety net, yeah? We always know where we�re supposed to be after we get picked up.�
A car pulled up and the boy sprinted to it, sticking his head in the window. Liam pulled away.
*
The Hanlon was a motel. A very seedy, sleazy motel about three minutes from where the boys worked.
Liam felt dirty just driving into the place.
He hopped out, locking the car and walked past other slumbering autos to the motel office. A chime dinged as he entered the damp looking room. A man about his own age, but with a dirty tee and jeans on was sitting behind a glassed in desk eating Cheezels and watching a small television.
�Hey.� He said, dusting his hands off on each other, �Getcha room?�
�Yep. The one with Spike in it.� he said smiling.
�Sorry. Don�t know a Spike.�
�Sure you do. The peroxided English boy.�
�Sorry.� He repeated, his hands up in a submissive gesture that showed his orange dusted fingers.
Sick of the bullshit Liam slipped the guy a twenty, tossing it into the change opening. The man looked at it.
�You a cop?�
�P.I.�
�Our customers don�t come here for the five star rooms capishe?� The man said, rolling the word around in his mouth like a piece of hard-boiled candy, �We work offa discretion.�
�Spike hired me.�
The man barked out a laugh. �Spike hiring instead of being the hired?�
Liam slapped his hands against the glass feeling it reverberate against his palms. The man looked scared. �Room.� He said.
�Three� came the nervous reply, scooped the bill into his hand. �On the bottom floor.�
Liam walked along the block of rooms until he saw three. He put his ear to the door and then the closed curtained window beside it. Nothing. He jogged around the building. The Hanlon looked over the scenic view of a grassy hockey field next to the highway. A wire fence separated the motel and the field, topped with harsh curls of barbed wire.
He counted the windows back to three and slipped over to the window. The glass itself was closed, but the curtains inside were opened a fraction.
He took a breath and turned around, crouching under the pane. He stayed low and looked through the crack of cloth.
He could see a large, heavyset man on the bed running parallel to the window, crouching over on hands and knees. He was naked, and the curtain chopped off his head. The body was heavily tanned but his butt was bright white and fleshy as it pistoned back and forward. Liam lifted his head a bit more and saw a leg that was facing towards the man on top. Pale, trimly muscled and hairless it bent up and rested against the man�s thrusting hip, foot flat on the covers. The bulk of the man blocked the body belonging to the leg.
Liam moved more towards the centre of the window and poked his head back up. The man on top had his head pushed into the pillow beside Spike�s platinum hair. Spike. Liam became acutely aware of his breath as he watched. Spike�s hands were resting on the thick shoulders above him, his face and expressionless. His head rocked as he was thrust into. He stared at the ceiling but his body rolled like a wave, coming up to press against the man's stomach and chest before pushing back into the covers.
Liam sat back down for a few moments then crept back up after catching his breath.
The man was sitting up on his knees now; whipping his hips into Spike as he lay spread out on the bed, his thin arms above his head. Liam�s gaze softened.
Spike was�. He just was. Perfect.
His body was slightly muscled all over. His stomach was bordered with a v that pointed to his crotch. He looked hairless apart from the tufts of hair under his arms and the dark line of hair on his lower belly. Liam�s eyes ignored his unwillingness and strayed down to Spike�s lap. He wasn�t hard, not fully. The dark thatch didn�t look like curls; it was trimmed down and neat. The snowy body lay back on the harsh sheets looking inviting, and edible, perfect like wine that tanged on the tip of your tongue and spread warmth up to the back of your nose. Liam had never had an urge to lick a man, but he wanted to now. Lick all over these well-drawn curves and see if he tasted bubbly like champagne.
The man had his hands around Spike�s waist and was pulling the body onto his crotch. Spike looked like he belonged like that. On his back, his lips parted, his eyelids heavy with lust as someone pleasured him. He was finally getting into the fuck, rolling his hips onto the cock inside him quickly, his face tense, his dark brows pulled together as he concentrated, his lips in a leering curve.
His hand moved down to his nipples, pinching and flicking, his eyes rolling back as he did. The john he was wrapped around was incidental. Spike was fucking himself, his body thriving and opening up, lost to the pleasure, focusing on only that. The pounding stopped, the heavy man motionless, head thrown back, thick meaty ugly hands wrapped around the thighs of the incubus he had somehow managed to lure. Spike lay still, his legs frozen around the man's waist.
Liam breathed out, feeling his hard cock and the wet patch around it. Spike looked very delicate lying there in the dark, his expression pinched as he watched the man's face anxiously, his legs still frozen around the man.
Liam had a sudden overwhelming urge to break the window, climb inside and throw the pig off. Break the hands that were still digging into Spike�s thighs. And then he wanted Spike to wrap those legs around his own waist.
He watched as the man�s bovine hands roamed over Spike�s body as he just layed there, eyes closed like a cat being petted. The man continued for a while, and then leant down to press his fleshy lips onto the pink ones below him.
Liam�s growing jealousy flared his body moving to get up, and Spike�s eyes snapped opened, angrily, his hands rising to push the man away. Both men stared at each other and then the john withdrew out of Spike, pulling the rubber of his cock in one quick sudden motion, causing the contents of it to flick over Spike�s belly and chest. The man laughed as Spike looked down eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock, then began yelling as Spike flew into him, his fists connecting well with the mans sides and face. But the man was easily twice Spike�s width and he put a huge paw over Spike�s face, pushing him back easily. Spike�s body slammed into the wall, and then slid down the peeling wallpaper abruptly. He stayed down, his knees drawn back up against his bare body as he watched the man rubbing the side of his reddening jaw, obviously where one of Spike�s punches had connected. Spike said something quietly, Liam could only see his mouth moving, and he pointed to the door. The man pulled on his jeans while Spike sat on the floor sullenly, his eyes flicking between the man and something out of Liam�s sight. The man zipped his jeans and leant over to the place Liam couldn�t see, which angered Spike, he stood up, looking ready to fight again. The man was holding a stack of money, and Liam quickly understood why Spike�s eyes had suddenly been so attracted to the spot. But instead of taking the money out the door with him, he flicked the stack into Spike�s face, the bills fluttering down to the floor as the man opened the door and left. Once the man was gone, Spike fell to the floor on the other side of the bed. Liam could only see him occasionally as his head or back slightly popped up behind the covers. He then saw a pale arm extend past the end of the bed and grab a green note.
Liam ran round the building again, just in time to see the man driving out the exit. Liam focused on the brown car and then hopped into his own, squealing out after him.
He didn�t remember the drive; the next thing Liam remembered was running up behind the pig john and slamming his head into a brick wall, knocking him out. He walked back past the brown car, kicked all the lights and windows out and stepped calmly back into his own, driving mildly back to his office.
**
Liam was sitting back in his wide chair behind his desk. He was going through the reports Doyle had gotten him from Kate. There were three possibilities, Liam thought. All he had to do was go see each one to see if any happened to have a particular tattoo on his hand. It was about two in the morning but Liam wasn�t tired. He been drinking coffee and whisky since he got back, having long got over the fact he had stalked a male prostitute, had almost shot watching him conduct business and then assaulted his client, and now he was back into his case.
The coffee was effectively keeping him awake and giving him something to do, while the whisky was effectively drowning out the voice in his mind that kept screaming about him being a homosexual psychopath. He was trying not to wonder if the voice was right. He had girlfriends, not recently though.
His only experience with a man was a fighter he knew years ago when he was eighteen. The man, whom Liam knew as Band, was an ex �Greenmart-cashier and a pretty funny guy; he could also beat Liam at pool, which was marginally impressive. He was also gay and had asked Liam out a few times. All those times Liam had said no. But after Band�s last match, they had messed around and Band had jerked him off. He hadn�t seen him since, Liam thought he�d probably moved away.
�Whatcha up to, Pet?�
Liam snapped out of the memory and turned to the doorway. Spike was standing in it, wearing black jeans, a fishnet mesh black shirt, and a small smile.
�Uh��
�Larry told me you came lookin� for me.� He cocked an eyebrow. �Did you find what you were lookin� for?�
�Uh�� Liam was a little� stupefied. �Who�s Larry?�
Spike slipped into the room and sat down on the desk, on the side closest to Liam. Liam stared up at him, embarrassment and shock fighting for a place on his face.
�Did you �ave a little peek?� He breathed, the words floating on smoky breath. He shifted over, lifting a long leg over the top of Liam�s head and settling it down on the other side, on the arm of Liam�s chair. Liam was looking straight into his navel. �Did you like it?�
Liam found his voice. �I thought you might�ve been doing something. So I left.�
�Ah.� Spike leant forward, putting his hand on Liam�s shoulder. �But you knew I was with someone when you came to the Hanlon.�
�I thought you may have been � uh � finished.� Spike�s bright smug eyes were watching him, unblinking.
�But when I was� you weren�t there.� Spike pouted, bowing his head to the side and looking at Liam out of the corner of his eyes. �Did you leave? Why?�
�Took too long?� Liam tried valiantly. Spike leant closer, until Liam was breathing in the air he was breathing out. He thought Spike was going to kiss him, but he didn�t, he leant back, bringing his leg back over the top of Liam�s head and spun around to sit on the chair before him, his moves like a practised dance, egotistical smile on his face.
�You�re a very bad liar.� Spike said, looking down at his nails. �What did you come to see me for, Detective?�
Liam, angry and embarrassed at his actions, and at being found out, was happy to get the upper hand. He picked up the three files he had on his desk and tossed them into Spike�s lap.
�A lead.�
Spike looked down at the files. They had his attention. �One of these guys did it?�
�Maybe. Good lead though. Same M.O.�
Spike nodded. Liam came around to lean against the desk in front of Spike.
�Any look familiar?� he asked.
Spike looked at the pictures in the file and then shook his head, slowly. He looked up. �No, but I could show these? To the boys?�
�Yes. I�ll get a copy.� Liam took the photos from Spike�s hand and went to Doyle�s office, where they kept their ancient photocopier. He pressed the �on� button.
Spike wandered into the room. �I got lonely.� His face was expressionless but he somehow tinged his voice with a pout.
Liam stayed quiet. He was confused enough about this man. He just wanted to heat the photocopier up and send Spike off with the pictures, then sit and have a drink.
�Pet?�
�Yeah?� Liam said, unconsciously answering to the nickname.
�Why are you a detective?�
�Because.� Liam answered blandly, busying himself by loading the tray with paper, his head still foggy from the whisky he had drunk.
�No really.�
Liam sighed. �I don�t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You get to meet a lot of interesting�� he turned to Spike who was leaning in the doorway, sexy grin on his face. �People.�
Spike nodded and then broke into a smile that showed his shiny teeth. �Same with me.�
Liam looked at him for a while. �Can I ask you a question?�
�Why do I hook?�
�Well that. Yes.�
�Better than working as a waiter. That�s what I did before. For a month.� He started ticking things off on his fingers. �And before that I was a cleaner, and before that, mail room guy � that was fun, before that gas station attendant and before that, I was a high school drop out.� He smiled to himself. �I don�t particularly like working.�
�Do you ever � feel bad about what you do?�
Spike shrugged, looking around the room. �You do it once to pay your rent, and you throw up afterwards. Then the next week you need food so you think, �oh well, done it once, may as well�, so you do it for that. Then a couple of months later you�re saying �well I really do need a new TV or that DVD or some candy� so you�re out almost every night. Then you look back and�� he looked blankly at the photocopier, watching the little lights on it flick and flash.
�You don�t remember the person who threw up?� Liam asked softly, feeling Spike open up to him, feeling a great warmth inside at knowing, absolutely knowing, that Spike didn�t talk about the �why� of his job very often. And that Spike had chosen to talk to him.
Blue eyes crept back to Liam�s, and for once there wasn�t a hint of a smug glint or toughness in them. He nodded staring at Liam, all the sadness and hopelessness pouring out through the sad clear blue. Liam�s heart hurt for him that moment. �And you can�t go back to being that person. Not really. People try. What did you do before you �detected?� Spike asked, subtly changing the conversation, not really understanding why he�d said all that to Liam anyhow.
�I was a fighter.�
�Of what?�
�Other fighters?� Liam answered, unsure of himself, thinking he probably should be truthful after what Spike had just told him.
�What?� He frowned in confusion.
�I used to fight in an underground ring.�
�Oh. Did you like it?�
�I loved it. The crowd, the fights, the adrenalin. Loved every second.� Liam quirked a smile, at the memories and the fact his tongue was whisky-loose.
�Why�d you quit?�
�Got hit with a chain and lost part of my sight.� He pointed to his right eye.
�A chain?� Spike raised his eyebrows.
�Yeah, no rules about what you could take into the matches.�
Spike looked impressed. �Did anyone ever die?�
�Yes.�
He nodded, brows still raised. �How�d you get into that?�
Liam shrugged. �Angry kid. High school loser.� Spike smiled, and Liam back at him, their gazes meeting and sparking for a moment. �Nothing else to do really. Good money too.�
�If you hadn�t had been in tha� fight, would you still be doin� it?�
Liam thought about this. No one he had told about his past really asked him questions like this, or made him think so much about himself. �Maybe. Probably.�
Spike nodded thoughtfully. �Explains why you�re so huge then.� He smiled.
Liam laughed softly at the observation. �Why did you come over from England?� he asked, innocuously.
The smiles and playfulness dropped from Spike�s face and he went stonily quiet. The moment they were sharing was lost; Liam could feel it slipping away, like sand through his fingers.
�Sorry.� He said, trying to pull it back.
Spike smiled the same seducing-whore smile he wore when he walked in. �Maybe I�ll tell you later. If you�re good.�
The photocopier beeped and Liam copied the pictures as Spike flipped an unlit cigarette between his fingers. The air between them was strange again. Spike with his usual carnality about him and Liam with his restlessness at that.
�How old are you?� Liam asked.
�How old do you want me to be?�
He sighed. �Here.� He gave Spike the pictures. Spike flicked through them disinterestedly.
�Why do you want to know?�
�Cause I can�t figure it out.�
�Twenty four.�
Liam had still been in the USFR at that age. He suddenly felt old. He blamed it on the whisky that was starting to hit him harder. He couldn�t remember how much he�d had. He turned back to Spike who was waiting expectantly.
�What?�
�I said: How old are you?�
�Oh. Twenty seven.�
Spike nodded, looking Liam up and down. Liam felt his body heat up desperately to the gaze. �Can I have a coffee? I can smell it on your breath.�
Liam nodded and went to the dark foyer to get him one. Spike lounged in the sofa they had against the wall his hand up toying with his hair, his feet up on the other arm.
�Sugar?�
�And milk.�
Liam finished, grabbed his own mug from his office and handed Spike�s mug to him. �Here.�
�Thankyou.� He moved his legs and motioned Liam to sit. Liam suddenly felt as if he were the guest, Spike seemed so comfortable. He wondered if he should turn the foyer light on. The light from his own office light the darkness, but the dim of the foyer seemed so companionable. He decided against.
He sat down and sipped at the whiskey-coffee, making a face at the luke warm temperature. They sat, sipping and staring off into space. Liam wasn�t quite sure what made Spike choose that moment but Spike put his cup down on the table in front of him, leant over and started kissing Liam�s neck.
The whisky and the complete randomness of the act left Liam a little clueless. He couldn�t seem to move. He looked at Spike�s platinum hair shining brightly in the dim light and then back to his coffee mug, which was sitting calmly on the coffee table.
He thought he was dreaming.
It didn�t seem real.
He felt it was safe to start kissing Spike back, which was what he really wanted to do. He placed a kiss on the exposed stretch of neck. It was very smooth, and warm. He could feel the cold tip of Spike�s nose in the crook of his own neck. Spike broke away, and pushed Liam away from his neck. He shifted so he was straddling Liam�s lap, held his face and kissed him softly, his coffee hot tongue sliding into Liam�s mouth. He ran his fingers down under Liam�s shirt and playfully ran them across his stomach. Liam put his own hands around Spike�s ribs, feeling them contract and expand, and then ran his thumbs up over Spike�s nipples, remembering how much he had liked it when he had done it to himself all those hour-days ago. Spike broke the kiss and threw his head back. He ground his denim-clad butt into Liam�s crotch. Liam pushed the faux-shirt up and lay a long lick up Spike�s torso and over his pointed nipple, feeling Spike shiver and tremble above him, his stomach clenching absently. He tasted like wine.
Spike pushed him away and pulled his shirt back down before kissing Liam hard, twisting and grinding like he was giving Liam a lap dance, creating unbearable friction for Liam�s cock.
�Please� Spike� oh�.� Liam stuttered between kisses. His hips were jerking up into Spike by themselves trying to jump start Liam into fucking, his cock angry about being teased.
�Fifty.� Spike panted into his ear.
�Huh?� Liam asked, confused.
�Give me a fifty Pet, and I�ll do what you�re dying for.� He slipped off Liam�s knees and pushing the coffee table back, fell to his own between them. He undid the button at the tops of Liam�s pants.
�Wha�?� Liam managed, trying to understand. He watched as Spike slowly pulled the zipper down, his wet cotton boxers coming into sight underneath his quivering belly. Spike ran his finger up the bottom of Liam�s cock, through the boxers, then started to pull them and his pants down. Liam felt his naked skin sitting on the scratchy fabric of the couch. Liam�s unhindered cock waved before Spike�s eager face.
�Spi ��
Spike cut him off by laying a long swipe of his tongue along his palm and wrapping around Liam�s cock giving it a slow pump. Liam�s head fell back and he gurgled. Spike let go and sat back on his haunches expectantly, his hands purposefully staying on his own denim covered thighs. He cocked an eyebrow.
Liam leant forward, reached under his thigh and shakily pulled out a couple of notes from his pants pocket holding them out. Spike looked at them quickly, pocketed them and smiled up at the panting man on the couch. He lifted his hands and started rubbing Liam�s thighs. He put little kisses in the downy clear hair on the skin there, before pushing Liam�s pants down to his ankles. Spike placed a kiss on his knee before licking his right hand again and pumping Liam�s cock with it. Liam�s head wanted to fall back on the couch but he couldn�t take his eyes away from the body before him. Spike sort of, rocked, with the motion of his hand, as if to the music he made. He looked up, caught Liam looking at him and licked his lips. He rose from the floor, keeping his knees on it, and plunged his mouth down around Liam�s cock, taking it to the root, pushing his still cold nose into Liam�s curls in one swoop. He swallowed around the length inside him. Liam�s thighs were trying to clench close around the body between them, to never let him go, to make him do this forever.
Spike rose up and them plunged back down; bring his hand up to cup Liam�s balls, squeezing them gently. Spike ran Liam�s cock in and out of his mouth, using his other hand to pump the exposed shaft, using his thumb to massage the thick wriggled vein on the underside. He began humming, something, everything, rocking his head to the tune. Liam�s head was rolling from side to side as his body was overcome. He couldn�t see, only Spike and black, that�s all that existed, all that needed to.
Liam�s hips started pushing up into the rhythm, and he could feel the saliva from Spike�s mouth running over his balls and down to stop and dry cold around his hole, prickling the nerves there and making his body twitch. He looked down and saw Spike�s mouth stretched wide around his cock, his eyes closed.
He moaned.
Spike�s eyes flicked open and kept his gaze as he rose and sank down on Liam�s shaft. He felt a knuckle pushing into the skin under his balls and his cock quivered at the feeling. He felt Spikes gently scrape his teeth over his over sensitive cock head and he let out a strangled growl, shooting his come over Spike�s lips, watching Spike dive onto his cock to receive the rest in his mouth.
Liam�s head rolled back on the chair, his body spasming occasionally.
�Work on that case, Luv.� He heard Spike whisper before he heard the office door click quietly closed.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes an indeterminate amount of time later and looked around the dark office. The light from his office still lit the foyer a little, and his eyes skated around for a while until they landed on Spike�s coffee mug.
He sighed.