Fic: The Fire Within, chapter 10. AU human. Liam/Spike. NC-17
Christ I never meant for it to be this long. Not sure what happened here. Sorry. But it's a long one this time so I hope that makes up for some. And I hope I'm doing Lindsey justice, the whole Texas thing is harder than you'd imagine. I only have one other chapter written so it could be a while. Again. Sorry.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 10
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Author's note: Seven Brothers is actually hubby's favourite Finish film. *g*
Previous chapters are here
The Fire Within, Chapter 10
Ten minutes later Spike was shaken awake by a warm hand on his thigh and for a moment he thought he was on Liam’s couch, having fallen asleep again over one of his strange European movies. (Seven Brothers? Honestly! Who watches a fucking Finish film for fun?)
“Wha..?”
“We’re here. Sure you don’t wanna go home and get your fairy ass to bed?”
“Shut your gob.” He yawned and stretched before climbing out of the truck. “Might nod off on your couch though. I tend to do that.”
“As long as you don’t drool on my shoulder.” Lindsey smirked as he unlocked the door then strolled in, leaving it open for Spike to follow him. He walked in, then stopped, looking around in awe.
“So you’re from Texas, eh?” He smirked when Lindsey looked almost uncomfortable for a second before throwing him back a smug grin.
“Hell, yeah. Ain’t nothing like it.”
Spike grinned and kicked off his shoes before walking over to run his finger along the horns mounted on the living room wall. Smooth and almost warm to the touch. Nice. He turned away and looked around. All the place needed was a riding bull and he wouldn’t be able to tell it from the seediest honky tonk bar in Dallas. Ok, maybe not the couch. “Nice quilt, mate. Love the little horsies.”
This time Lindsey did blush and it was a priceless sight. “Shut up. My momma made it.”
“Sure.” He grinned and accepted the beer from Lindsey’s outstretched hand before looking around again, eyes finally resting on the wall of family pictures. He walked over, Lindsey following to stand beside him as he studied them. “Nice people.”
“Some.”
Spike glanced at Lindsey but his face was neutral, seeming careless as he sipped from the frosty bottle. He turned back to the pictures, tilting his head in thought. “That you?” He nodded to a little boy standing a little to the side of a group of kids, his face solemn.
“Yeah. Cute kid, right?” Lindsey smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yes.” Spike watched him thoughtfully. “Looks a bit sad.”
“Yeah? Maybe. Can’t remember.” Lindsey turned around and walked over to the couch, grabbing the remote from the low table before throwing himself down. “You gonna stand there yapping or what?”
Spike held his gaze for a moment, reading the challenge and deciding they definitely weren’t there yet. “I’m coming.” He tugged off his jacket and threw it on a chair before settling down on the other side of the couch. It was soft and deep and he could already feel exhaustion paralysing his limbs.
“If I fall asleep just throw that nice quilt over me.” He let his eyes slide close and sighed. “Don’t think I can manage going home.”
“No problem. The couch is yours.” Lindsey chuckled and took another sip of his beer. “You realise it’s not even eight o’clock yet?”
“Yeah? Feels like midnight.”
Spike raised his bottle as well and almost choked when his throat tried to swallow and yawn at the same time. Lindsey laughed out loud and smacked Spike’s thigh amicably.
“You just take a nap then, boy, and I’ll wake ya up when my gut starts complaining.”
“Sure. Whatever.” Spike wedged the beer in between his thighs, one hand curled loosely around the neck, and let his head drop back. Such a nice couch…
When he woke up it was dark except for the blue flicker of the television casting shadows across the room. In this light the horns on the opposite wall looked outright scary and he rubbed a palm over his hand, trying to erase the nightmare from his memory. He glanced over, only to meet Lindsey watching him, the light from the TV reflecting in his eyes.
“Hey.”
Lindsey nodded. “Have a nice nap?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” He blinked. Some John Wayne movie was playing on the screen. He bit down a snort and sat up, rolling his stiff neck. “What time is it?”
“About ten. Pizza?”
“Oh, definitely.” Spike yawned, his jaw clicking. “You call and I’ll pay.”
“Sure thing.”
Two hours later his belly was full and his head was getting considerably lighter. They’d quickly finished the beer and had moved on to stronger liquids. The bottle of JD was down to one third and he could feel the anger and fear from earlier slowly dissipating. They’d talked about sports for a while, then moved on to work, Lindsey telling him some of the things he’d encountered since he got on the force five years earlier. It was fascinating in a morbid way and Spike found himself leaning forward, gaze travelling from Lindsey’s lips to his eyes and then back again. He really was a very pretty man. Bet he would look great wearing nothing but his boots and a cowboy hat.
“Will? You alright there, buddy?”
He blinked, the world snapping back into focus and he found himself only inches from Lindsey’s face, so close in fact that he could feel the Texan’s breath on his skin.
“Yeah.” He sat slowly back, swallowing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… impose.”
“You know, you’re almost pretty enough to make me forget you have a dick, but not quite.” Lindsey smiled and swirled the golden liquid in his glass, dark eyes still watching him.
“Funny.” He could feel himself blushing. “Maybe I should go.”
“Hey, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I mean, I am a handsome sonofabitch. Can’t blame you for noticing.”
“I’d be blind not to.” Fuck. This was what happened when he got drunk. His mouth just blurted out things his brain hadn’t even thought of. Shit. “I mean… Bugger.” He dropped his head in his hands in mortification. “Stupid mouth.”
Lindsey laughed then leaned forward and patted his thigh. “It’s no big deal. Hell, a few more of these…” Lindsey sipped from the glass, “and I’d be the one staring at you and saying embarrassing shit.”
“’S not funny,” Spike groaned. “I haven’t had a decent shag in months, mate. Except that one time…” He stopped short. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such a stupid fuck when I’m drunk.”
“I’d offer but there’s that whole not being gay thing, ya know,” Lindsey chuckled.
“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind. I’ve shagged straight men before.” Spike looked up and grinned and then they both burst out laughing, shoulders shaking and tears springing out in their eyes.
Finally Lindsey shook his head and got up. “Think it’s time for bed. You be okay here?”
“Yeah.” Spike stood up as well, swaying slightly. “Thank you. I mean it. The whole thing with Dru and…” He stopped himself at the last minute before Liam’s name slipped out. “Well, you know. Everything. You’re a good friend, Lindsey MacDonald.”
He grabbed Lindsey’s arm and pulled him in for a tight hug, letting his chin rest on the muscular shoulder for a moment, his nose pushed into Lindsey’s half long hair. He smelled of beer and shaving cream and something Spike guessed was just Texas. It was nice. Homey. He suddenly felt like crying and closed his eyes, arm tightening around Lindsey’s shoulders.
“Will. Hey.” Lindsey patted his back then pushed him gently away.
“Sorry. I’m not flirting, honestly.” He rubbed his eyes drunkenly. “I just… I miss having friends. Been so bloody lonely, you know? And… yeah.” He backed away, head bowed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Hey, look at me.” Spike raised his eyes warily, meeting Lindsey’s smiling gaze. “It’s okay, Will.” Suddenly Lindsey tilted his head and leaned forward, brushing Spike’s lips with his own in a light kiss then pulled back, still smiling. “Almost as pretty as a girl. Get me drunker next time and I might even go for it.”
Spike stared at him and then a smile spread across his face. “You’re such a wanker, you know that? Like I’d even want you.”
“Like you’d ever get me. I’m so out of your league, man.” Lindsey laughed and shook his head. “Get some sleep. Don’t throw up on the rug. Or the quilt.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, you little twit.” Spike fell back down on the couch and was asleep within moments. Fifteen minutes later Lindsey came out of the bathroom and grinned at Spike’s snoring. He pulled the quilt over him and put a bucket by the side of the couch, just in case, before walking into the bedroom, still smiling.
---------------------
He woke up to the smell of coffee and his brain threatening to explode. “Oh God.”
“Morning to you too, sunshine.”
The voice was way too bright and loud and Spike considered killing Lindsey. Or smothering him with the bloody quilt. “Don’t. Talk. Coffee?”
“Here.”
Spike accepted the mug gratefully, eyes still half-closed as he inhaled the rich aroma. His head was pounding, his stomach was clenched and he had a feeling he’d done something stupid last night, he just couldn’t remember what. With a groan he glanced up at Lindsey who was watching him with an amused expression.
“I didn’t… Was I a sodding ass last night?”
Lindsey smirked. “You can’t remember?”
“Not really. Just drinking and…” He stopped, a flash of a memory suddenly crossing his mind. “Oh bugger. Did I come on to you?”
Lindsey laughed and reached over to pet Spike’s knee. “Nah, not seriously. You were the perfect gentleman. My virtue is still intact.”
Spike closed his eyes and let his head drop back on the couch. “Oh God. I’m so sorry.” He rubbed one palm over his face, the heat from the coffee mug lingering on his skin. “Feel free to kick me anytime.”
“Don’t think you could take more kicking, kiddo. And I mean it, I didn’t mind.”
“You’re the strangest redneck I’ve ever met, you know that?” Spike shook his head. “Maybe there’s hope for the world yet.”
Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “We’re not all inbred homophobes that spend our free time cleaning guns and fucking our sisters, man.” He was still smiling but it was stilted, his eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. I’ll go now.” Spike tried to stand up but lost his balance and fell back on the couch, spilling coffee all over his t-shirt. “Fuck! Shit. I can’t believe I… Please just kill me now before I make an even bigger fool of myself.”
“Oh Christ, you are a drama queen.” Lindsey walked into the kitchen, returning with a dishtowel that he threw at Spike. “Give it a rest. You’re right anyway. Most my folks are like that. Well, maybe not fucking their sister… much.” He frowned then laughed at the shocked look on Spike’s face. “Man, you're easy.”
“I’m so sorry.” He dabbed at the dark wet spot covering his front. “I think I left my brain at home last night. I should get my sorry arse…” Suddenly he remembered why he was there in the first place. “Oh bugger. My bloody car!”
“Yep.”
“Shit! I forgot. How could I forget? Bloody fucking hell!”
“I’ll give you a ride. You wanna take a shower first?”
“No. No thanks. I need to change and… Fuck, I guess I have to go in for a statement. That will be a laugh.”
Lindsey watched him for a minute then kicked Spike’s feet off the sofa table. “Come on, finish that coffee and I’ll be your chauffeur for the day.”
Spike managed a small smile. “Does that mean I get to call you James and you have to call me Sir?”
“It means you puke in my truck I’ll make you lick it clean.” Lindsey grabbed Spike’s jacket and threw at him with a grin. “Now get your fairy ass off my couch, bitch, and put your boots on.”
Spike grudgingly got up, cursing as the headache doubled. At least he managed to stay on his feet this time. He felt increasingly foolish. Way to make new friends, William. He threw a glance at Lindsey who was humming under his breath some unknown country song, looking way too much at ease for a straight man that had a gay guy get pissing drunk and come on to him in his own home. Well, if there was a way to determine which ones were your real friends he guessed Lindsey had passed the test.
Unlike a certain broody fireman.
Spike clenched his jaw, refusing to take that thought further. He got it, sure he did. He’d known this would happen, that this was what it would be like being friends with someone like Liam. Didn’t mean it hurt any less. Just as well they only were friends and nothing more, despite Liam’s constant efforts to take it further. Not openly, never that, but the looks and the lingering touches spoke volumes. Only once had Spike been forced to openly reject Liam and it had taken all his willpower not to just lay back and let it happen. It was only a hand falling casually on his neck as they sat on the couch, caressing the short hairs, but when he’d looked over at Liam the desire was evident in his eyes and Spike had shaken his head then removed the hand. They didn’t say a word but he could feel Liam’s irritation and the rest of the evening was spent in heavy silence. He’d thought that was it but the next day Liam called him as if nothing had happened, asking if they were on that night.
“You coming, Willie boy?”
He snapped out of his musings to find Lindsey watching him with a worried frown. Spike nodded and pulled on his jacket then walked unsteadily over to where his shoes lay.
“Spike.”
“Huh?”
He finished tying his shoes and straightened up. “My friends call me Spike.”
Lindsay snorted. “That so? Who came up with a lame-ass name like that?”
Spike swatted his head, then grabbed the doorframe for balance as he almost toppled over. “I did, you wanker. I was in a band, you know. Punk. We all had nicknames and mine was Spike.”
“Let me guess. Studded dog-collar?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Lindsey shook his head and smiled. “Like I said. Lame.”
“Yes, because listening to country music and strutting around in cowboy boots is so cool,” Spike snorted as he followed Lindsey down the stairs and out into the street.
“Hell, yeah.” Lindsey unlocked the truck and got in, waiting patiently as Spike took a few deep breaths of fresh air before joining him. “It’s the foundation of everything American, man. You better get with the program if you’re gonna live here.”
“Thanks but no. Think I’ll stick with my own program, ta very much.”
“Your loss, pal. You’d look great in a Stetson and some chaps.” Lindsey laughed at the horrified look on Spike’s face, then promptly put the car in gear and swung the truck into the early morning traffic.
--------------
Considering how little attention he’d given to the location of his car last time he came home, her absence from the usual spot by the sidewalk made him hitch his breath. His Dru. His lovely beautiful Dru.
“You alright?” Lindsey gave him a worried look and he shook his head,
“Yeah. Just… fuck. My car! I can’t believe… It’s not bloody fair.”
“She was a beauty.”
Spike looked at him, grateful that at least someone understood. “Yeah, she was. You should have seen her when I got her. Rusty and dented. Ugly yellow paintjob. Fixed her up myself. Was my only friend for a long time. I know, it sounds stupid but that’s the way I feel. And now she’s gone.”
Lindsey nodded solemnly. “I hear you, man. I used to have a dog like that. Ugly mutt. Stupid as fuck. My best friend in the world. The day he got run over by a car I cried like a baby.”
They shared a moment of silence and then Spike cleared his throat and nodded before getting out of the truck. “You wanna come up or meet me later?”
“And miss you showering? No way.” Lindsey swung the door open and jumped out.
Spike laughed. “And still you keep insisting you’re straight.” He wiggled his fingers at Lindsey. “Stop resisting, my young friend. Come over to the Dark Side and learn what sex is really all about.”
Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “Haemorrhoids?”
Spike gasped. “Oh, you’re evil! And so clueless, poor thing.” He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door before giving Lindsey his sexiest smile. “The things I could teach you…”
“You wish, bitch.”
“In your dreams, luv.”
He yelped as Lindsey punched his arm, gasping a loud and theatrical “Ow!” before pushing Lindsey back so he fell against the doorframe, cursing loudly. Then ran ahead up the stairs, Lindsey on his heels.
By the time they reached the fifth floor they were both gasping and laughing and Spike had to struggle with the keys before he managed to get them in the lock to let them into the apartment.
First thing that caught his eye was the red light blinking on his answering machine. He walked straight past, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket on the couch.
“You’re not gonna check your messages? Could be something important.”
“Later.”
If any of those were from Liam he didn’t want Lindsey to hear them. He grabbed his cell from the sofa table and checked it. Ten missed calls. Voice messages. Text messages. He didn’t have to check the list to know who they’d be from. Well, fuck him. Too little and too bloody late. He threw the cell back on the table and stalked toward the bedroom.
“There’s beer and sodas in the fridge but that’s about it. Help yourself. I’ll be quick.”
“Take your time. I’ve got nothing better to do,” Lindsey huffed from the living room and Spike smiled despite his irritation. “Got any decent DVDs?”
“If you’re looking for porn it’s in the TV cabinet.” He waited until he could hear Lindsey opening it before adding, “Of course it’s all gay porn…” and laughed out loud at the sound of the door slamming shut and Lindsey’s soft swearing.
It felt good, stripping out off the sweaty and smelly clothes and allowing his naked skin to air. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him before turning on the shower. The small room soon filled with steam and he got under the warm stream of water, groaning as it washed over his aching muscles. Lindsey’s couch wasn’t bad but it was no bed and on top of that all the stress of the last day had his muscles in knots.
He grabbed the shampoo and poured a dollop into his hand then smeared it over his fingers before rubbing it into his hair. He closed his eyes as the suds started to run down, enjoying the feel of warm water on his face and his fingers massaging his scalp. He had an image of other hands doing it instead of his own, strong fingers running through his hair and then slipping down to his neck. He could feel his cock hardening and he tried to will the vision away but it refused to leave. The hands were massaging his tense shoulders and then running down to rest on his hips. Grabbing them to pull him closer, pressing a hard cock against his backside.
He wondered, if he let the fantasy run its course, who it would be, Liam or Lindsey. He couldn’t deny he felt a certain attraction to the Texan but it was different to what he felt toward Liam. More curiosity or possibly the challenge of seducing a straight man. It was a tantalising idea, seducing Lindsey. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be as hard as Lindsey made it out to be. Wouldn’t be the first one to realise his orientation wasn’t as cut and clean as he thought.
Spike smiled and shook his head. He valued Lindsey’s friendship way too much to jeopardise it for a fleeting attraction. Even if something told him it would be beyond fantastic. Beside, Lindsey wasn’t who he really wanted.
The smile slipped from his lips and he could feel his erection deflating. Liam. What the hell was he gonna do about Liam?
His anger was fading away, being replaced by hurt and uncertainty. He should have known something like this would happen if they ever met on the job again.
But that was just it. They hadn’t just “met”, like by accident. They had met because Spike had been the victim. And no matter what had brought it on, even if it was obvious, Liam should have been there for him. Not because they were both gay, not because they had a very limited sexual history, but because they were, as Lindsey rightly had pointed out, buddies. It wasn’t as if he was asking Liam to coo over him like a worried lover but a simple “Hey, man. This sucks.” would have been nice.
Sighing he turned off the water and reached for a towel. He was too tired and too hung over to think about this now. His brain couldn’t really handle more than enough function to get him dressed, take Lindsey out for breakfast (the least he could do to apologise for being a drunken pervert) and then over to work to fill in his statement. Everything else would have to wait. Including Liam.
Spike wrapped the towel around his waist, then lathered up for a shave. He hated having stubble. It gave him a rash and unlike most other men he didn’t think it suited him at all. It just made him look tired.
Once his face was smooth and clean he ran his fingers through his hair until it looked just-fucked and careless, just the way he liked it. He used to slick his bleached hair back once upon a time, until he saw that Draco kid in the Harry Potter movies and realised he’d rather not look like a ten year old, thank you very much. He was actually thinking of growing the bleach out. He didn’t really feel much like his old punk self these days.
When he opened the door that lead from the bathroom to the bedroom he could hear soft singing and guitar strumming from the living room. Smiling he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a soft long-sleeved t-shirt, grabbing a rolled up pair of socks before tip-toeing down the hall and toward the sound.
Lindsey was sitting on the couch with one foot up on the sofa table, guitar in his lap, frowning with concentration as he plucked the strings through a honky tonk version of Stairway to Heaven. Spike watched for a moment, appreciating the slope of Lindsey’s neck as his hair fell forward and the blue veins running down those muscular arms. Damn. If life was really fair Lindsey would be the gay one instead of Liam. Pretty, witty and not a fucking prick. Plus he could sing.
Spike cleared his throat and smiled at Lindsey when he started and looked up. “Hey.”
“Nice guitar you got here, man. You play?”
“Occasionally. You’ve got a nice voice.”
Lindsey smirked. “Best way to pick up girls. The ladies love a singer.”
Spike laughed. “The lads don’t hate them either.”
“No?” Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “You sing too?”
“It happens.”
“We should jam sometime.” Lindsey sat up and put the guitar back on its stand before leaning back, smiling. “It’s not punk but it’s music. I’ve got a gig in two weeks, playing at The Tequila. You could join me for a song or two. If you’re any good,” he added with a smirk.
Spike stood still, staring down at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Why?” Lindsey leered. “You suck?”
“If you want me to, darlin’.” Spike instantly drawled then shook his head. “No. I mean, you don’t mind being seen with…” He stopped, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Forget it.”
Lindsey frowned and stood up, walking up to him. “No. Why are you…? Where did that come from?” Anger suddenly flared in his eyes. “Is this about Liam?”
Spike blushed and took a step back. “No.”
“Yeah. It is.” Lindsey shook his head before giving Spike a sympathetic look. “Hey, he’s an asshole, ok? A complete dickhead. I’ve known him for years and-”
Spike snorted. “Funny. That’s pretty much what he said about you.”
Lindsey blinked. “When did you two talk about me?”
“After you beat up Larry-” Spike stopped. Shit.
“Huh.”
There was an awkward silence and Spike could feel his face burning. Lindsey was watching him, a puzzled look on his face.
“So you are friends. And I guess I was right. You do like him.” He pursed his lips. “Does he know?”
Spike shrugged.
Lindsey paused. “Is he gay?”
Spike squirmed, averting his eyes. “How would I know?” Damn you, Liam.
“What, no gaydar? Didn’t find no pink slippers in his closet?”
“Fuck off.”
Lindsey sighed. “Hey, I’m just worried about you. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
“I won’t. It’s not like that. We just had a few pints. He was feeling lonely and bored, all sick at home.”
“How bored? Bored enough to let you suck his dick?”
Spike stiffened. “Know what? I’m not doing this.” He turned and stalked to the door. “You coming or you wanna stay here, going through my dirty laundry?”
“Ok, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I’m just…” Lindsey seemed to hesitate, then he took a deep breath and looked Spike straight in the eye. “I liked Billy. He was a sweet kid. And when he came out Liam was the first to turn his back on him. His best friend. So I guess I’m a bit surprised that he’d hang out with you, knowing you’re gay.”
Spike refused to look at him. “Maybe there’s more to him than you see. Maybe he had his reasons.”
“Maybe. Just… be careful.”
Spike nodded. “Yeah. Whatever. You coming or not?”
Lindsey sighed. “Yeah, I’m coming. We good?”
Spike stood silent for a moment, then swallowed and looked up, smiling briefly. “Yeah. You wanna get breakfast?”
“You paying?”
Spike rolled his eyes, his anger dwindling. “I was going to but I’m not sure you deserve it, being such a twat.”
“Hey! I’m not… What the hell’s a twat?”
“Look it up, Texas boy.” He held the door open. “Come on, if I don’t get something in my stomach soon I’ll definitely throw up in your truck.”
Lindsey gave a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Watch me. Twat.” Spike smirked.
“Bitch.” Lindsey gave him the finger as he grabbed his jacket.
The smirk widened. “You wish.”
“Asshole.”
Spike laughed and walked ahead with a swing in his hips, jacket thrown coquettishly over his shoulder. “The tightest you’d ever have if you weren’t such a prude.”
“Oh great.” Lindsey rubbed his face as he closed the door behind them. “Now I have to bleach my brain.”
“What brain?”
“Watch it, kiddo.”
Spike turned and walked backwards, grinning. “I’m watching. Can’t take my eyes off of you, cowboy.” He sighed dramatically. “You’re just so pretty.”
That earned him a hearty laugh. “That’s what my momma always used to say.”
“Well, she weren’t lying. Bet you made all the other cowboys want to go…” Spike raised his hands in airquotes. “… ‘fishing’ with you.”
“Christ, do you ever shut up?”
“Not unless you make me.” Spike puckered his lips and then ducked laughing from the swat to his head.
His car might be dead and his love life a fucking joke but at least he’d made a friend.
Life could be worse.
Continued here.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 10
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Author's note: Seven Brothers is actually hubby's favourite Finish film. *g*
Previous chapters are here
The Fire Within, Chapter 10
Ten minutes later Spike was shaken awake by a warm hand on his thigh and for a moment he thought he was on Liam’s couch, having fallen asleep again over one of his strange European movies. (Seven Brothers? Honestly! Who watches a fucking Finish film for fun?)
“Wha..?”
“We’re here. Sure you don’t wanna go home and get your fairy ass to bed?”
“Shut your gob.” He yawned and stretched before climbing out of the truck. “Might nod off on your couch though. I tend to do that.”
“As long as you don’t drool on my shoulder.” Lindsey smirked as he unlocked the door then strolled in, leaving it open for Spike to follow him. He walked in, then stopped, looking around in awe.
“So you’re from Texas, eh?” He smirked when Lindsey looked almost uncomfortable for a second before throwing him back a smug grin.
“Hell, yeah. Ain’t nothing like it.”
Spike grinned and kicked off his shoes before walking over to run his finger along the horns mounted on the living room wall. Smooth and almost warm to the touch. Nice. He turned away and looked around. All the place needed was a riding bull and he wouldn’t be able to tell it from the seediest honky tonk bar in Dallas. Ok, maybe not the couch. “Nice quilt, mate. Love the little horsies.”
This time Lindsey did blush and it was a priceless sight. “Shut up. My momma made it.”
“Sure.” He grinned and accepted the beer from Lindsey’s outstretched hand before looking around again, eyes finally resting on the wall of family pictures. He walked over, Lindsey following to stand beside him as he studied them. “Nice people.”
“Some.”
Spike glanced at Lindsey but his face was neutral, seeming careless as he sipped from the frosty bottle. He turned back to the pictures, tilting his head in thought. “That you?” He nodded to a little boy standing a little to the side of a group of kids, his face solemn.
“Yeah. Cute kid, right?” Lindsey smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yes.” Spike watched him thoughtfully. “Looks a bit sad.”
“Yeah? Maybe. Can’t remember.” Lindsey turned around and walked over to the couch, grabbing the remote from the low table before throwing himself down. “You gonna stand there yapping or what?”
Spike held his gaze for a moment, reading the challenge and deciding they definitely weren’t there yet. “I’m coming.” He tugged off his jacket and threw it on a chair before settling down on the other side of the couch. It was soft and deep and he could already feel exhaustion paralysing his limbs.
“If I fall asleep just throw that nice quilt over me.” He let his eyes slide close and sighed. “Don’t think I can manage going home.”
“No problem. The couch is yours.” Lindsey chuckled and took another sip of his beer. “You realise it’s not even eight o’clock yet?”
“Yeah? Feels like midnight.”
Spike raised his bottle as well and almost choked when his throat tried to swallow and yawn at the same time. Lindsey laughed out loud and smacked Spike’s thigh amicably.
“You just take a nap then, boy, and I’ll wake ya up when my gut starts complaining.”
“Sure. Whatever.” Spike wedged the beer in between his thighs, one hand curled loosely around the neck, and let his head drop back. Such a nice couch…
When he woke up it was dark except for the blue flicker of the television casting shadows across the room. In this light the horns on the opposite wall looked outright scary and he rubbed a palm over his hand, trying to erase the nightmare from his memory. He glanced over, only to meet Lindsey watching him, the light from the TV reflecting in his eyes.
“Hey.”
Lindsey nodded. “Have a nice nap?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” He blinked. Some John Wayne movie was playing on the screen. He bit down a snort and sat up, rolling his stiff neck. “What time is it?”
“About ten. Pizza?”
“Oh, definitely.” Spike yawned, his jaw clicking. “You call and I’ll pay.”
“Sure thing.”
Two hours later his belly was full and his head was getting considerably lighter. They’d quickly finished the beer and had moved on to stronger liquids. The bottle of JD was down to one third and he could feel the anger and fear from earlier slowly dissipating. They’d talked about sports for a while, then moved on to work, Lindsey telling him some of the things he’d encountered since he got on the force five years earlier. It was fascinating in a morbid way and Spike found himself leaning forward, gaze travelling from Lindsey’s lips to his eyes and then back again. He really was a very pretty man. Bet he would look great wearing nothing but his boots and a cowboy hat.
“Will? You alright there, buddy?”
He blinked, the world snapping back into focus and he found himself only inches from Lindsey’s face, so close in fact that he could feel the Texan’s breath on his skin.
“Yeah.” He sat slowly back, swallowing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… impose.”
“You know, you’re almost pretty enough to make me forget you have a dick, but not quite.” Lindsey smiled and swirled the golden liquid in his glass, dark eyes still watching him.
“Funny.” He could feel himself blushing. “Maybe I should go.”
“Hey, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I mean, I am a handsome sonofabitch. Can’t blame you for noticing.”
“I’d be blind not to.” Fuck. This was what happened when he got drunk. His mouth just blurted out things his brain hadn’t even thought of. Shit. “I mean… Bugger.” He dropped his head in his hands in mortification. “Stupid mouth.”
Lindsey laughed then leaned forward and patted his thigh. “It’s no big deal. Hell, a few more of these…” Lindsey sipped from the glass, “and I’d be the one staring at you and saying embarrassing shit.”
“’S not funny,” Spike groaned. “I haven’t had a decent shag in months, mate. Except that one time…” He stopped short. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such a stupid fuck when I’m drunk.”
“I’d offer but there’s that whole not being gay thing, ya know,” Lindsey chuckled.
“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind. I’ve shagged straight men before.” Spike looked up and grinned and then they both burst out laughing, shoulders shaking and tears springing out in their eyes.
Finally Lindsey shook his head and got up. “Think it’s time for bed. You be okay here?”
“Yeah.” Spike stood up as well, swaying slightly. “Thank you. I mean it. The whole thing with Dru and…” He stopped himself at the last minute before Liam’s name slipped out. “Well, you know. Everything. You’re a good friend, Lindsey MacDonald.”
He grabbed Lindsey’s arm and pulled him in for a tight hug, letting his chin rest on the muscular shoulder for a moment, his nose pushed into Lindsey’s half long hair. He smelled of beer and shaving cream and something Spike guessed was just Texas. It was nice. Homey. He suddenly felt like crying and closed his eyes, arm tightening around Lindsey’s shoulders.
“Will. Hey.” Lindsey patted his back then pushed him gently away.
“Sorry. I’m not flirting, honestly.” He rubbed his eyes drunkenly. “I just… I miss having friends. Been so bloody lonely, you know? And… yeah.” He backed away, head bowed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Hey, look at me.” Spike raised his eyes warily, meeting Lindsey’s smiling gaze. “It’s okay, Will.” Suddenly Lindsey tilted his head and leaned forward, brushing Spike’s lips with his own in a light kiss then pulled back, still smiling. “Almost as pretty as a girl. Get me drunker next time and I might even go for it.”
Spike stared at him and then a smile spread across his face. “You’re such a wanker, you know that? Like I’d even want you.”
“Like you’d ever get me. I’m so out of your league, man.” Lindsey laughed and shook his head. “Get some sleep. Don’t throw up on the rug. Or the quilt.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, you little twit.” Spike fell back down on the couch and was asleep within moments. Fifteen minutes later Lindsey came out of the bathroom and grinned at Spike’s snoring. He pulled the quilt over him and put a bucket by the side of the couch, just in case, before walking into the bedroom, still smiling.
---------------------
He woke up to the smell of coffee and his brain threatening to explode. “Oh God.”
“Morning to you too, sunshine.”
The voice was way too bright and loud and Spike considered killing Lindsey. Or smothering him with the bloody quilt. “Don’t. Talk. Coffee?”
“Here.”
Spike accepted the mug gratefully, eyes still half-closed as he inhaled the rich aroma. His head was pounding, his stomach was clenched and he had a feeling he’d done something stupid last night, he just couldn’t remember what. With a groan he glanced up at Lindsey who was watching him with an amused expression.
“I didn’t… Was I a sodding ass last night?”
Lindsey smirked. “You can’t remember?”
“Not really. Just drinking and…” He stopped, a flash of a memory suddenly crossing his mind. “Oh bugger. Did I come on to you?”
Lindsey laughed and reached over to pet Spike’s knee. “Nah, not seriously. You were the perfect gentleman. My virtue is still intact.”
Spike closed his eyes and let his head drop back on the couch. “Oh God. I’m so sorry.” He rubbed one palm over his face, the heat from the coffee mug lingering on his skin. “Feel free to kick me anytime.”
“Don’t think you could take more kicking, kiddo. And I mean it, I didn’t mind.”
“You’re the strangest redneck I’ve ever met, you know that?” Spike shook his head. “Maybe there’s hope for the world yet.”
Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “We’re not all inbred homophobes that spend our free time cleaning guns and fucking our sisters, man.” He was still smiling but it was stilted, his eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. I’ll go now.” Spike tried to stand up but lost his balance and fell back on the couch, spilling coffee all over his t-shirt. “Fuck! Shit. I can’t believe I… Please just kill me now before I make an even bigger fool of myself.”
“Oh Christ, you are a drama queen.” Lindsey walked into the kitchen, returning with a dishtowel that he threw at Spike. “Give it a rest. You’re right anyway. Most my folks are like that. Well, maybe not fucking their sister… much.” He frowned then laughed at the shocked look on Spike’s face. “Man, you're easy.”
“I’m so sorry.” He dabbed at the dark wet spot covering his front. “I think I left my brain at home last night. I should get my sorry arse…” Suddenly he remembered why he was there in the first place. “Oh bugger. My bloody car!”
“Yep.”
“Shit! I forgot. How could I forget? Bloody fucking hell!”
“I’ll give you a ride. You wanna take a shower first?”
“No. No thanks. I need to change and… Fuck, I guess I have to go in for a statement. That will be a laugh.”
Lindsey watched him for a minute then kicked Spike’s feet off the sofa table. “Come on, finish that coffee and I’ll be your chauffeur for the day.”
Spike managed a small smile. “Does that mean I get to call you James and you have to call me Sir?”
“It means you puke in my truck I’ll make you lick it clean.” Lindsey grabbed Spike’s jacket and threw at him with a grin. “Now get your fairy ass off my couch, bitch, and put your boots on.”
Spike grudgingly got up, cursing as the headache doubled. At least he managed to stay on his feet this time. He felt increasingly foolish. Way to make new friends, William. He threw a glance at Lindsey who was humming under his breath some unknown country song, looking way too much at ease for a straight man that had a gay guy get pissing drunk and come on to him in his own home. Well, if there was a way to determine which ones were your real friends he guessed Lindsey had passed the test.
Unlike a certain broody fireman.
Spike clenched his jaw, refusing to take that thought further. He got it, sure he did. He’d known this would happen, that this was what it would be like being friends with someone like Liam. Didn’t mean it hurt any less. Just as well they only were friends and nothing more, despite Liam’s constant efforts to take it further. Not openly, never that, but the looks and the lingering touches spoke volumes. Only once had Spike been forced to openly reject Liam and it had taken all his willpower not to just lay back and let it happen. It was only a hand falling casually on his neck as they sat on the couch, caressing the short hairs, but when he’d looked over at Liam the desire was evident in his eyes and Spike had shaken his head then removed the hand. They didn’t say a word but he could feel Liam’s irritation and the rest of the evening was spent in heavy silence. He’d thought that was it but the next day Liam called him as if nothing had happened, asking if they were on that night.
“You coming, Willie boy?”
He snapped out of his musings to find Lindsey watching him with a worried frown. Spike nodded and pulled on his jacket then walked unsteadily over to where his shoes lay.
“Spike.”
“Huh?”
He finished tying his shoes and straightened up. “My friends call me Spike.”
Lindsay snorted. “That so? Who came up with a lame-ass name like that?”
Spike swatted his head, then grabbed the doorframe for balance as he almost toppled over. “I did, you wanker. I was in a band, you know. Punk. We all had nicknames and mine was Spike.”
“Let me guess. Studded dog-collar?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Lindsey shook his head and smiled. “Like I said. Lame.”
“Yes, because listening to country music and strutting around in cowboy boots is so cool,” Spike snorted as he followed Lindsey down the stairs and out into the street.
“Hell, yeah.” Lindsey unlocked the truck and got in, waiting patiently as Spike took a few deep breaths of fresh air before joining him. “It’s the foundation of everything American, man. You better get with the program if you’re gonna live here.”
“Thanks but no. Think I’ll stick with my own program, ta very much.”
“Your loss, pal. You’d look great in a Stetson and some chaps.” Lindsey laughed at the horrified look on Spike’s face, then promptly put the car in gear and swung the truck into the early morning traffic.
--------------
Considering how little attention he’d given to the location of his car last time he came home, her absence from the usual spot by the sidewalk made him hitch his breath. His Dru. His lovely beautiful Dru.
“You alright?” Lindsey gave him a worried look and he shook his head,
“Yeah. Just… fuck. My car! I can’t believe… It’s not bloody fair.”
“She was a beauty.”
Spike looked at him, grateful that at least someone understood. “Yeah, she was. You should have seen her when I got her. Rusty and dented. Ugly yellow paintjob. Fixed her up myself. Was my only friend for a long time. I know, it sounds stupid but that’s the way I feel. And now she’s gone.”
Lindsey nodded solemnly. “I hear you, man. I used to have a dog like that. Ugly mutt. Stupid as fuck. My best friend in the world. The day he got run over by a car I cried like a baby.”
They shared a moment of silence and then Spike cleared his throat and nodded before getting out of the truck. “You wanna come up or meet me later?”
“And miss you showering? No way.” Lindsey swung the door open and jumped out.
Spike laughed. “And still you keep insisting you’re straight.” He wiggled his fingers at Lindsey. “Stop resisting, my young friend. Come over to the Dark Side and learn what sex is really all about.”
Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “Haemorrhoids?”
Spike gasped. “Oh, you’re evil! And so clueless, poor thing.” He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door before giving Lindsey his sexiest smile. “The things I could teach you…”
“You wish, bitch.”
“In your dreams, luv.”
He yelped as Lindsey punched his arm, gasping a loud and theatrical “Ow!” before pushing Lindsey back so he fell against the doorframe, cursing loudly. Then ran ahead up the stairs, Lindsey on his heels.
By the time they reached the fifth floor they were both gasping and laughing and Spike had to struggle with the keys before he managed to get them in the lock to let them into the apartment.
First thing that caught his eye was the red light blinking on his answering machine. He walked straight past, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket on the couch.
“You’re not gonna check your messages? Could be something important.”
“Later.”
If any of those were from Liam he didn’t want Lindsey to hear them. He grabbed his cell from the sofa table and checked it. Ten missed calls. Voice messages. Text messages. He didn’t have to check the list to know who they’d be from. Well, fuck him. Too little and too bloody late. He threw the cell back on the table and stalked toward the bedroom.
“There’s beer and sodas in the fridge but that’s about it. Help yourself. I’ll be quick.”
“Take your time. I’ve got nothing better to do,” Lindsey huffed from the living room and Spike smiled despite his irritation. “Got any decent DVDs?”
“If you’re looking for porn it’s in the TV cabinet.” He waited until he could hear Lindsey opening it before adding, “Of course it’s all gay porn…” and laughed out loud at the sound of the door slamming shut and Lindsey’s soft swearing.
It felt good, stripping out off the sweaty and smelly clothes and allowing his naked skin to air. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him before turning on the shower. The small room soon filled with steam and he got under the warm stream of water, groaning as it washed over his aching muscles. Lindsey’s couch wasn’t bad but it was no bed and on top of that all the stress of the last day had his muscles in knots.
He grabbed the shampoo and poured a dollop into his hand then smeared it over his fingers before rubbing it into his hair. He closed his eyes as the suds started to run down, enjoying the feel of warm water on his face and his fingers massaging his scalp. He had an image of other hands doing it instead of his own, strong fingers running through his hair and then slipping down to his neck. He could feel his cock hardening and he tried to will the vision away but it refused to leave. The hands were massaging his tense shoulders and then running down to rest on his hips. Grabbing them to pull him closer, pressing a hard cock against his backside.
He wondered, if he let the fantasy run its course, who it would be, Liam or Lindsey. He couldn’t deny he felt a certain attraction to the Texan but it was different to what he felt toward Liam. More curiosity or possibly the challenge of seducing a straight man. It was a tantalising idea, seducing Lindsey. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be as hard as Lindsey made it out to be. Wouldn’t be the first one to realise his orientation wasn’t as cut and clean as he thought.
Spike smiled and shook his head. He valued Lindsey’s friendship way too much to jeopardise it for a fleeting attraction. Even if something told him it would be beyond fantastic. Beside, Lindsey wasn’t who he really wanted.
The smile slipped from his lips and he could feel his erection deflating. Liam. What the hell was he gonna do about Liam?
His anger was fading away, being replaced by hurt and uncertainty. He should have known something like this would happen if they ever met on the job again.
But that was just it. They hadn’t just “met”, like by accident. They had met because Spike had been the victim. And no matter what had brought it on, even if it was obvious, Liam should have been there for him. Not because they were both gay, not because they had a very limited sexual history, but because they were, as Lindsey rightly had pointed out, buddies. It wasn’t as if he was asking Liam to coo over him like a worried lover but a simple “Hey, man. This sucks.” would have been nice.
Sighing he turned off the water and reached for a towel. He was too tired and too hung over to think about this now. His brain couldn’t really handle more than enough function to get him dressed, take Lindsey out for breakfast (the least he could do to apologise for being a drunken pervert) and then over to work to fill in his statement. Everything else would have to wait. Including Liam.
Spike wrapped the towel around his waist, then lathered up for a shave. He hated having stubble. It gave him a rash and unlike most other men he didn’t think it suited him at all. It just made him look tired.
Once his face was smooth and clean he ran his fingers through his hair until it looked just-fucked and careless, just the way he liked it. He used to slick his bleached hair back once upon a time, until he saw that Draco kid in the Harry Potter movies and realised he’d rather not look like a ten year old, thank you very much. He was actually thinking of growing the bleach out. He didn’t really feel much like his old punk self these days.
When he opened the door that lead from the bathroom to the bedroom he could hear soft singing and guitar strumming from the living room. Smiling he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a soft long-sleeved t-shirt, grabbing a rolled up pair of socks before tip-toeing down the hall and toward the sound.
Lindsey was sitting on the couch with one foot up on the sofa table, guitar in his lap, frowning with concentration as he plucked the strings through a honky tonk version of Stairway to Heaven. Spike watched for a moment, appreciating the slope of Lindsey’s neck as his hair fell forward and the blue veins running down those muscular arms. Damn. If life was really fair Lindsey would be the gay one instead of Liam. Pretty, witty and not a fucking prick. Plus he could sing.
Spike cleared his throat and smiled at Lindsey when he started and looked up. “Hey.”
“Nice guitar you got here, man. You play?”
“Occasionally. You’ve got a nice voice.”
Lindsey smirked. “Best way to pick up girls. The ladies love a singer.”
Spike laughed. “The lads don’t hate them either.”
“No?” Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “You sing too?”
“It happens.”
“We should jam sometime.” Lindsey sat up and put the guitar back on its stand before leaning back, smiling. “It’s not punk but it’s music. I’ve got a gig in two weeks, playing at The Tequila. You could join me for a song or two. If you’re any good,” he added with a smirk.
Spike stood still, staring down at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Why?” Lindsey leered. “You suck?”
“If you want me to, darlin’.” Spike instantly drawled then shook his head. “No. I mean, you don’t mind being seen with…” He stopped, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Forget it.”
Lindsey frowned and stood up, walking up to him. “No. Why are you…? Where did that come from?” Anger suddenly flared in his eyes. “Is this about Liam?”
Spike blushed and took a step back. “No.”
“Yeah. It is.” Lindsey shook his head before giving Spike a sympathetic look. “Hey, he’s an asshole, ok? A complete dickhead. I’ve known him for years and-”
Spike snorted. “Funny. That’s pretty much what he said about you.”
Lindsey blinked. “When did you two talk about me?”
“After you beat up Larry-” Spike stopped. Shit.
“Huh.”
There was an awkward silence and Spike could feel his face burning. Lindsey was watching him, a puzzled look on his face.
“So you are friends. And I guess I was right. You do like him.” He pursed his lips. “Does he know?”
Spike shrugged.
Lindsey paused. “Is he gay?”
Spike squirmed, averting his eyes. “How would I know?” Damn you, Liam.
“What, no gaydar? Didn’t find no pink slippers in his closet?”
“Fuck off.”
Lindsey sighed. “Hey, I’m just worried about you. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
“I won’t. It’s not like that. We just had a few pints. He was feeling lonely and bored, all sick at home.”
“How bored? Bored enough to let you suck his dick?”
Spike stiffened. “Know what? I’m not doing this.” He turned and stalked to the door. “You coming or you wanna stay here, going through my dirty laundry?”
“Ok, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I’m just…” Lindsey seemed to hesitate, then he took a deep breath and looked Spike straight in the eye. “I liked Billy. He was a sweet kid. And when he came out Liam was the first to turn his back on him. His best friend. So I guess I’m a bit surprised that he’d hang out with you, knowing you’re gay.”
Spike refused to look at him. “Maybe there’s more to him than you see. Maybe he had his reasons.”
“Maybe. Just… be careful.”
Spike nodded. “Yeah. Whatever. You coming or not?”
Lindsey sighed. “Yeah, I’m coming. We good?”
Spike stood silent for a moment, then swallowed and looked up, smiling briefly. “Yeah. You wanna get breakfast?”
“You paying?”
Spike rolled his eyes, his anger dwindling. “I was going to but I’m not sure you deserve it, being such a twat.”
“Hey! I’m not… What the hell’s a twat?”
“Look it up, Texas boy.” He held the door open. “Come on, if I don’t get something in my stomach soon I’ll definitely throw up in your truck.”
Lindsey gave a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Watch me. Twat.” Spike smirked.
“Bitch.” Lindsey gave him the finger as he grabbed his jacket.
The smirk widened. “You wish.”
“Asshole.”
Spike laughed and walked ahead with a swing in his hips, jacket thrown coquettishly over his shoulder. “The tightest you’d ever have if you weren’t such a prude.”
“Oh great.” Lindsey rubbed his face as he closed the door behind them. “Now I have to bleach my brain.”
“What brain?”
“Watch it, kiddo.”
Spike turned and walked backwards, grinning. “I’m watching. Can’t take my eyes off of you, cowboy.” He sighed dramatically. “You’re just so pretty.”
That earned him a hearty laugh. “That’s what my momma always used to say.”
“Well, she weren’t lying. Bet you made all the other cowboys want to go…” Spike raised his hands in airquotes. “… ‘fishing’ with you.”
“Christ, do you ever shut up?”
“Not unless you make me.” Spike puckered his lips and then ducked laughing from the swat to his head.
His car might be dead and his love life a fucking joke but at least he’d made a friend.
Life could be worse.
Continued here.