Fic: The Fire Within, chapter 4. AU Human. Liam/Spike. NC-17
Sorry, I got distracted by porn. It happens. *blushes*
Anyway, here's chapter 4 of this. It's shortish but packs some punches. Literally. Hope you like.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 4
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Previous chapters are here
The Fire Within, Chapter 4
Someone was trying to kill him. Someone was trying to smash his head in with a big fucking hammer. He tried to tell whoever it was to stop but all he could do was grunt. Then he tried to push him away but his fists only hit air. Everything hurt. He tried to open his eyes but the light burned his eyeballs. God, he couldn’t breathe!
“Sshh, it’s ok. Liam. Liam. Listen to me, you have to calm down.”
The voice sounded familiar and he stilled. Slowly he managed to open his eyes against the faint light of the bedside lamp. “Spike?”
“Yeah. It’s me.” Spike was looking down at him, looking oddly relieved. “Feeling bloody awful, I guess.”
“Wha- wha’ happened?” He tried to sit up but the room started spinning and he fell down again. “Whatcha doin’ere?”
“You called me. Remember?”
“No. Why? Why would I call you?” His voice sounded harsher than he’d intended and Spike drew slightly back, a twitch of something akin to hurt in his eyes.
“You don’t remember anything?” Yeah, definitely hurt.
“I remember whiskey.” Actually he could use a stiff one right now. “I guess I got drunk.”
“I guess so.” Spike sat still for a moment before looking up at him, hesitantly. “You called me and asked me to come because… you were feeling suicidal.”
His stomach felt like it had suddenly been dumped full of ice cubes. “What?”
“You needed someone to stop you from offing yourself.” Spike looked away. “I guess I was handy.”
“I was going to…?” An image of tiny pills resting in the palm of his hand flashed before his eyes. He stilled. “And you stopped me?”
“Yes.”
It was all coming back to him with ice-cold dread. “Why?”
Spike stiffened. “Why? Why me? I don’t know, all right? Your call, not mine.” He stood up and walked to the window. It was raining outside, a river of raindrops running down the other side of the grimy glass.
“No. Why did you stop me?” Liam closed his eyes, the pillow suffocating the wrong side of his head. “Maybe I really wanted to die.”
The sharp slap stung his cheek and his eyes flew open in shocked surprise. “What the hell was that for?”
“For being a fucking prick, that’s what. Stop that sodding self-pity and get your head out of your selfish arse.” Spike was glaring at him, shaking with anger. “Want to tell life to fuck itself? Want to shit on your friends and family? Tell them they don’t matter, that they’re nothing more than a blip on your egoistic radar? Want to be a coward like your little boy Billy? Then next time, don’t call me. Jump off a fucking bridge and be done with it.”
He stalked out of the room, leaving Liam to stare after him in shock for a moment before the words sunk in. Then he jumped out of bed, pausing for a second to keep from falling over with dizziness and stormed after Spike into the living room.
“What did you say? What the fuck did you say to me?” He grabbed Spike’s arm and twisted him around in fury. “You have no right to even mention his name, you hear me? He was a good man, the best. Don’t you dare talking about him like that.”
“Like what?” Spike glowered. “A sodding chicken, too scared to face what he was? Better to blow his brains out than admit he was a poof? A queer, a fag, a sissy, a fucking fudgepacker? Oh no, wait. That’s you. He actually had the balls to come out and you fucking crushed them.”
“You…” Liam was shaking with anger, each word cutting him like a knife.
“And now you’re feeling bad about that. Should have said something, should have walked over and said, “Guess what, I’m a homo too” and the fact that you didn’t is killing you. And so rather than admit your guilt, admit what you are, you decide to just join him. What a pair of sorry cowards you are. LAFD’s finest.”
Liam’s punch sent Spike flying across the room and he landed in a heap on the floor but instead of crumbling he just jumped back to his feet, spit blood on the wooden floor and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
“That feel good, yeah? Can’t hit your little boy toy because he’s dead and cold in the ground and so you hit me. Hate him, don’t you? Hate him for what he did, for what he was. Just as much as you hate yourself for what you didn’t do and what you still are.”
Liam closed in on him slowly, fists raised. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”
“Like you wanted him to shut up? Told your little secret, didn’t he? Was supposed to keep quiet like the nice little boy toy he was but instead he went blabbering to your mates. So you turned your back on him, left him to face the fire alone and what do you know? He blows his brains out. What a pussy.”
The second blow hit him right in the nose and he fell back against the wall, legs wobbling, blood spurting out and dripping down on his t-shirt. But still he didn’t shut up.
“Yeah, that’s it. Take it out on me. Hurt me like you want to hurt him, like you want to hurt yourself. Come on, get that rage out. Make yourself feel better. Been bottling it all up inside and it’s burning you. Let it out, Liam. Let it all out.” Spike leaned against the wall, blood running down from his nose, eyes burning. “Fucking hit me.”
Liam could feel it all, all those things Spike had said, boiling inside him. The need to punch, to hurt, was overwhelming. He wanted to feel the pain, wanted to hear bones crush under his fists, smell the blood on his tongue. With a roar he drew back his clenched fist and drove it into the wall, an inch from Spike’s head. The skin split and splinters tore his flesh. It felt good. He pummelled the wall with both fists, yelling out his anger and pain. He was hitting Billy, hitting the guys, hitting his own miserable self and with every punch he felt a little bit of his anger drain away.
He wasn’t sure how long he kept going until Spike grabbed his arms from behind and forced him away from the wall. He swirled around, ready to punch Spike for real this time, punch a fucking hole in his stomach but then he looked up into Spike’s eyes and he was crumbling down to the floor, sobs shaking his body.
“Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.”
“Sshh, it’s all right.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know.”
Somehow he knew they were both talking about Billy, not the beating. Spike was resting his chin upon his head and he could feel blood sticking to his hair. God, what was wrong with him? Who had he become?
“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”
“Well, for starters you might want to put some clothes on.”
He pulled back and looked down. “Oh.” He felt a sudden ridiculous urge to cover himself, as if he hadn’t been stalking around completely naked, beating up the man beside him. The absurdity of the situation suddenly hit him and he started giggling hysterically but they soon turned into sobs again.
“Come on. Let’s get you up.”
He let himself be pulled to his feet where he swayed for a moment, clinging to Spike’s slight frame as if he was his saviour. Which he was in more than one way. He looked down at the bloody face, which was smiling up at him.
“Thank you. And… and sorry. For hitting you.”
“That’s ok. I’ve had worse.”
Spike smiled but his words only made Liam feel worse. Spike didn’t deserve being anyone’s pummel bag, and certainly not his. “You think I broke it? Your nose, I mean.”
Spike touched it gingerly. “Nah. It’s not that bad.” He smirked. “You hit like a girl.”
“Hey!” But he found himself smiling for the first time in days.
They stumbled into the bedroom and sank down on the bed. He studied his hands. They were a bloody mess but he didn’t think they needed any stitches. He looked down at Spike who was lying on his back, pinching his nose to stop the flow. With a shudder he thought of what the kid’s pretty face would have looked like if he hadn’t at the last second taken his anger out on the wall instead. He rose to his feet and pulled a pair of boxers out of the top drawer.
“I’m going to fetch you a towel. Wait here.”
“Danks.”
On the bathroom floor lay an empty bottle of painkillers. He slowly reached down and picked it up. 100 pcs. the label said. Two pills three times a day. He’d finished the first bottle in a week and had lied that he’d dropped them in the sink to get more. He knew Dr. Moore hadn’t believed him but he’d given them to him anyway. What’s the use of having friends in the profession if they don’t do you favours? Two days later there were only 60 left. He’d held 60 pills in his hand last night and been ready to swallow them down to end his life. The realisation hit him and he just about managed to reach the toilet before he emptied what little was in his stomach into the bowl.
“You all right there, mate?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I just… Not feeling so good.”
He heard a low chuckle from the bedroom. “Really? And I thought you were a morning person.”
“Shut up.”
But he felt better already. He flushed the toilet and then ran cold water in the sink. After soaking his hands for a while he felt much better, especially seeing as the damage was even less than he’d thought. Pulling out a couple of splinters he wrapped a thin rag around his knuckles, then brushed his teeth before wetting an old towel and wringing it out. Then he walked back into the bedroom. Spike was still lying where he left him, back of his hand pressed against his nostrils, eyes closed. His t-shirt was hitched up, revealing a strip of pale skin and golden hairs. He looked... God.
Liam swallowed and held out the towel. “Here.”
“Thanks, mate. It’s slowing down though. Might even manage to hold on to a pint or two.”
“I’ll get you some o.j.” He paused. “Except I don’t think I have any. I have beer.”
Spike groaned. “Don’t think that would be such a good idea. In this state the smell would be enough to get me drunk.”
“That’s all right by me.” The words were out before he'd thought them through. What are you doing? Shut up.
“You’re only saying that so you can have your wicked way with me.” Spike laughed and swiped most of the blood of his face before throwing the towel aside.
Liam stood still. This had to be the most stupid thing he’d ever done but… He took a deep breath and reached out to run a finger down Spike’s neck. “What if I am?”
The smile dropped off Spike’s face and Liam could feel the vein pulsating under his fingertip. “Are you?”
“Maybe.”
He felt almost dizzy with conflict. Did he want Spike because of all that had happened, the proximity to his own death making him feel for once high on life? Or because the boy reminded him so much of Billy it made his heart ache? Or just because he was so damn horny after months of nothing but his own hand for company that he’d fuck a llama if it wiggled its ass at him? None of those reasons were good, in fact they were terribly stupid and unfair to Spike, but as he gazed into those blue eyes all he knew was that he wanted to kiss this kid more than anything.
“Would that be okay?”
Spike kept his gaze, his breathing slowing down to almost non-existence. He blinked rapidly a few times and bit his lip. Then slowly he nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Liam let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and leaned over. But as his lips were about to touch Spike’s he dodged and sat up.
“I need to clean up.” He was out of the room and closing the bathroom door behind him before Liam had time to unpucker his lips. With a frown he sat up and looked over at the closed door. Huh.
Continued here
Anyway, here's chapter 4 of this. It's shortish but packs some punches. Literally. Hope you like.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 4
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Previous chapters are here
The Fire Within, Chapter 4
Someone was trying to kill him. Someone was trying to smash his head in with a big fucking hammer. He tried to tell whoever it was to stop but all he could do was grunt. Then he tried to push him away but his fists only hit air. Everything hurt. He tried to open his eyes but the light burned his eyeballs. God, he couldn’t breathe!
“Sshh, it’s ok. Liam. Liam. Listen to me, you have to calm down.”
The voice sounded familiar and he stilled. Slowly he managed to open his eyes against the faint light of the bedside lamp. “Spike?”
“Yeah. It’s me.” Spike was looking down at him, looking oddly relieved. “Feeling bloody awful, I guess.”
“Wha- wha’ happened?” He tried to sit up but the room started spinning and he fell down again. “Whatcha doin’ere?”
“You called me. Remember?”
“No. Why? Why would I call you?” His voice sounded harsher than he’d intended and Spike drew slightly back, a twitch of something akin to hurt in his eyes.
“You don’t remember anything?” Yeah, definitely hurt.
“I remember whiskey.” Actually he could use a stiff one right now. “I guess I got drunk.”
“I guess so.” Spike sat still for a moment before looking up at him, hesitantly. “You called me and asked me to come because… you were feeling suicidal.”
His stomach felt like it had suddenly been dumped full of ice cubes. “What?”
“You needed someone to stop you from offing yourself.” Spike looked away. “I guess I was handy.”
“I was going to…?” An image of tiny pills resting in the palm of his hand flashed before his eyes. He stilled. “And you stopped me?”
“Yes.”
It was all coming back to him with ice-cold dread. “Why?”
Spike stiffened. “Why? Why me? I don’t know, all right? Your call, not mine.” He stood up and walked to the window. It was raining outside, a river of raindrops running down the other side of the grimy glass.
“No. Why did you stop me?” Liam closed his eyes, the pillow suffocating the wrong side of his head. “Maybe I really wanted to die.”
The sharp slap stung his cheek and his eyes flew open in shocked surprise. “What the hell was that for?”
“For being a fucking prick, that’s what. Stop that sodding self-pity and get your head out of your selfish arse.” Spike was glaring at him, shaking with anger. “Want to tell life to fuck itself? Want to shit on your friends and family? Tell them they don’t matter, that they’re nothing more than a blip on your egoistic radar? Want to be a coward like your little boy Billy? Then next time, don’t call me. Jump off a fucking bridge and be done with it.”
He stalked out of the room, leaving Liam to stare after him in shock for a moment before the words sunk in. Then he jumped out of bed, pausing for a second to keep from falling over with dizziness and stormed after Spike into the living room.
“What did you say? What the fuck did you say to me?” He grabbed Spike’s arm and twisted him around in fury. “You have no right to even mention his name, you hear me? He was a good man, the best. Don’t you dare talking about him like that.”
“Like what?” Spike glowered. “A sodding chicken, too scared to face what he was? Better to blow his brains out than admit he was a poof? A queer, a fag, a sissy, a fucking fudgepacker? Oh no, wait. That’s you. He actually had the balls to come out and you fucking crushed them.”
“You…” Liam was shaking with anger, each word cutting him like a knife.
“And now you’re feeling bad about that. Should have said something, should have walked over and said, “Guess what, I’m a homo too” and the fact that you didn’t is killing you. And so rather than admit your guilt, admit what you are, you decide to just join him. What a pair of sorry cowards you are. LAFD’s finest.”
Liam’s punch sent Spike flying across the room and he landed in a heap on the floor but instead of crumbling he just jumped back to his feet, spit blood on the wooden floor and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
“That feel good, yeah? Can’t hit your little boy toy because he’s dead and cold in the ground and so you hit me. Hate him, don’t you? Hate him for what he did, for what he was. Just as much as you hate yourself for what you didn’t do and what you still are.”
Liam closed in on him slowly, fists raised. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”
“Like you wanted him to shut up? Told your little secret, didn’t he? Was supposed to keep quiet like the nice little boy toy he was but instead he went blabbering to your mates. So you turned your back on him, left him to face the fire alone and what do you know? He blows his brains out. What a pussy.”
The second blow hit him right in the nose and he fell back against the wall, legs wobbling, blood spurting out and dripping down on his t-shirt. But still he didn’t shut up.
“Yeah, that’s it. Take it out on me. Hurt me like you want to hurt him, like you want to hurt yourself. Come on, get that rage out. Make yourself feel better. Been bottling it all up inside and it’s burning you. Let it out, Liam. Let it all out.” Spike leaned against the wall, blood running down from his nose, eyes burning. “Fucking hit me.”
Liam could feel it all, all those things Spike had said, boiling inside him. The need to punch, to hurt, was overwhelming. He wanted to feel the pain, wanted to hear bones crush under his fists, smell the blood on his tongue. With a roar he drew back his clenched fist and drove it into the wall, an inch from Spike’s head. The skin split and splinters tore his flesh. It felt good. He pummelled the wall with both fists, yelling out his anger and pain. He was hitting Billy, hitting the guys, hitting his own miserable self and with every punch he felt a little bit of his anger drain away.
He wasn’t sure how long he kept going until Spike grabbed his arms from behind and forced him away from the wall. He swirled around, ready to punch Spike for real this time, punch a fucking hole in his stomach but then he looked up into Spike’s eyes and he was crumbling down to the floor, sobs shaking his body.
“Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.”
“Sshh, it’s all right.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know.”
Somehow he knew they were both talking about Billy, not the beating. Spike was resting his chin upon his head and he could feel blood sticking to his hair. God, what was wrong with him? Who had he become?
“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”
“Well, for starters you might want to put some clothes on.”
He pulled back and looked down. “Oh.” He felt a sudden ridiculous urge to cover himself, as if he hadn’t been stalking around completely naked, beating up the man beside him. The absurdity of the situation suddenly hit him and he started giggling hysterically but they soon turned into sobs again.
“Come on. Let’s get you up.”
He let himself be pulled to his feet where he swayed for a moment, clinging to Spike’s slight frame as if he was his saviour. Which he was in more than one way. He looked down at the bloody face, which was smiling up at him.
“Thank you. And… and sorry. For hitting you.”
“That’s ok. I’ve had worse.”
Spike smiled but his words only made Liam feel worse. Spike didn’t deserve being anyone’s pummel bag, and certainly not his. “You think I broke it? Your nose, I mean.”
Spike touched it gingerly. “Nah. It’s not that bad.” He smirked. “You hit like a girl.”
“Hey!” But he found himself smiling for the first time in days.
They stumbled into the bedroom and sank down on the bed. He studied his hands. They were a bloody mess but he didn’t think they needed any stitches. He looked down at Spike who was lying on his back, pinching his nose to stop the flow. With a shudder he thought of what the kid’s pretty face would have looked like if he hadn’t at the last second taken his anger out on the wall instead. He rose to his feet and pulled a pair of boxers out of the top drawer.
“I’m going to fetch you a towel. Wait here.”
“Danks.”
On the bathroom floor lay an empty bottle of painkillers. He slowly reached down and picked it up. 100 pcs. the label said. Two pills three times a day. He’d finished the first bottle in a week and had lied that he’d dropped them in the sink to get more. He knew Dr. Moore hadn’t believed him but he’d given them to him anyway. What’s the use of having friends in the profession if they don’t do you favours? Two days later there were only 60 left. He’d held 60 pills in his hand last night and been ready to swallow them down to end his life. The realisation hit him and he just about managed to reach the toilet before he emptied what little was in his stomach into the bowl.
“You all right there, mate?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I just… Not feeling so good.”
He heard a low chuckle from the bedroom. “Really? And I thought you were a morning person.”
“Shut up.”
But he felt better already. He flushed the toilet and then ran cold water in the sink. After soaking his hands for a while he felt much better, especially seeing as the damage was even less than he’d thought. Pulling out a couple of splinters he wrapped a thin rag around his knuckles, then brushed his teeth before wetting an old towel and wringing it out. Then he walked back into the bedroom. Spike was still lying where he left him, back of his hand pressed against his nostrils, eyes closed. His t-shirt was hitched up, revealing a strip of pale skin and golden hairs. He looked... God.
Liam swallowed and held out the towel. “Here.”
“Thanks, mate. It’s slowing down though. Might even manage to hold on to a pint or two.”
“I’ll get you some o.j.” He paused. “Except I don’t think I have any. I have beer.”
Spike groaned. “Don’t think that would be such a good idea. In this state the smell would be enough to get me drunk.”
“That’s all right by me.” The words were out before he'd thought them through. What are you doing? Shut up.
“You’re only saying that so you can have your wicked way with me.” Spike laughed and swiped most of the blood of his face before throwing the towel aside.
Liam stood still. This had to be the most stupid thing he’d ever done but… He took a deep breath and reached out to run a finger down Spike’s neck. “What if I am?”
The smile dropped off Spike’s face and Liam could feel the vein pulsating under his fingertip. “Are you?”
“Maybe.”
He felt almost dizzy with conflict. Did he want Spike because of all that had happened, the proximity to his own death making him feel for once high on life? Or because the boy reminded him so much of Billy it made his heart ache? Or just because he was so damn horny after months of nothing but his own hand for company that he’d fuck a llama if it wiggled its ass at him? None of those reasons were good, in fact they were terribly stupid and unfair to Spike, but as he gazed into those blue eyes all he knew was that he wanted to kiss this kid more than anything.
“Would that be okay?”
Spike kept his gaze, his breathing slowing down to almost non-existence. He blinked rapidly a few times and bit his lip. Then slowly he nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Liam let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and leaned over. But as his lips were about to touch Spike’s he dodged and sat up.
“I need to clean up.” He was out of the room and closing the bathroom door behind him before Liam had time to unpucker his lips. With a frown he sat up and looked over at the closed door. Huh.
Continued here