Fic: The Fire Within, Chapter 12. AU Human. Liam/Spike. NC-17
Well, The Fire Within won the poll, although it was touch and go there for a while. But don't worry, I expect to post the J2 story soon as well as the Dean/Sam one. But anyway, here you have it:
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 12
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3313 words this part
Author's note: Unbeta'd as usual. Sorry this part is a bit short but on the bright side I do have more written so you might not have to wait too long.
Previous chapters are here
banner by mentalme85
The Fire Within, Chapter 12
He was tired and cranky the next day. A few too many beers and way too much soul-searching for him to get a decent night’s sleep. He’d lain in bed, his thoughts switching from Liam to Lindsey and when he finally gave in and jerked off his dick couldn’t even decide which one it wanted.
No, that wasn’t true. He wanted Liam, he couldn’t deny that even if he wanted to. There was just something about that man that caught a hold of his heart and refused to let go. Lindsey… It was the comfort of friendship and trust that was drawing him to Lindsey.
That was the thing, he didn’t trust Liam. Not at all. Couldn’t trust him to watch his back or stand up for him. Couldn’t trust him not to break his heart into tiny little pieces and stomp on them. It was a bitter truth to come to terms with. How can you love someone if you don’t trust them?
When he finally fell asleep he dreamt of the fire for the first time since he woke up at the hospital. He was fighting his way through the smoke and heat with the little girl in his arms. Just like that day it overwhelmed him and he fell down, trying to shield her with his body. Liam took the girl from his arms, gave her to Gunn and then… he turned around and walked away. Spike woke up sweating and trembling, the memory of the flames licking his face so real he had to check himself in the bathroom mirror to be sure he wasn’t burned.
Kate was quiet as well. Ever since she’d told him she was moving away she’d been withdrawn and worried and he knew she felt guilty for leaving him hanging. He didn’t blame her though, he was just nervous about the future. If he had to be with that Summers girl every day it would drive him insane.
It was also time to face Liam. He’d ignored him for two days but this morning he’d flickered through the text messages and Liam seemed worried and guilt ridden, almost shameful. Served him right. The rising desperation in his texts still went to Spike’s heart and he felt a tiny bit bad for not returning any of Liam’s calls. So when he finally got home he sat down, phone in hand, and took a deep breath before dialling Liam’s number. It rang for a long while and just as he was about to hang up there was a click and a rough voice said, “Hello?”
“Liam. Hi.”
There was a loud bang on the other end of the line and he could hear the sound of glass clinging. Oh great.
“Will? Thank god. Are you…?”
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No! I mean, yes, but…”
“Call me when you’re sober.”
Spike snapped the cell shut, clutching it in his fist, the heel of his other hand pressed to his forehead. Fuck. Why the hell couldn’t he just cut Liam out of his life?
The cell rang in his hand but one look at the display showed it was Liam and he threw it away in disgust. He was going to take a shower, then he was going out to buy something to eat and then… Then he might call Liam again.
It was eight by the time he got home again. The light on his answering machine was blinking. He still hadn’t listened to any of his voice messages since that day and frankly he’d rather erase them than go through them. Finally though he reached out and pushed the button.
“Fuck, Will. I’m so sorry. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. Please. Call me.”
Beep.
“Will, please just talk to me. I’m worried. I don’t even know where you live. Please.”
Beep.
It went on like that for a while, message after message, but then suddenly the tone changed.
“I know you were with him. He fuck you? You let that little shit fuck you and you won’t even-”
The message cut off and Spike stared at the phone in horror. Liam was obviously drunk out of his skull but that didn’t explain why he thought…
Beep.
“You whore. No, he’s the whore. He’s not even gay, you moron. You…”
Beep.
“Will, I don’t care. If you were with him. I just want… Please call me.”
Beep.
“I loved him. So much. And you… you are so much like him but you’re not him. I know you’re not him. And… I don’t want to love you. I don’t. Because it’s all just shit and people die and… God, he died. He died. My Billy. God. Will… Please. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without you.”
Beep.
“Will, I’m sorry. I’m not drunk. I’m hung over but I’m not drunk. Please. Call me. Please.”
That was the last one. All the drunkenness was gone from Liam’s voice. He just sounded tired and depressed. Spike stood frozen for a moment and then he grabbed his jacket and stormed back out.
It took him a little over twenty minutes to walk over to Liam’s apartment. The lights were on in the windows that faced the street and he could see a dark figure moving behind the curtains. For a moment he stood still, hidden by the shadows as he watched Liam pace back and forth. When the curtains suddenly moved Spike stepped out of the shadows and moved to the door, pressing the buzzer. It buzzed back immediately and he pushed the door open and jogged up the stairs.
Liam was waiting for him in the doorway to his apartment. He was pink-faced and clean-shaven, his jeans freshly laundered and the t-shirt still had creases from where it’d been folded. It was so obvious that Liam had made the best effort he could to look presentable and just for that Spike felt some of his anger melt away.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Liam swallowed and then stepped aside to let him in. Spike slipped past him and looked around in surprise. The apartment was tidy and even if it could use some dusting and mopping it looked better than Spike could ever remember seeing it. Well, apart from the time he’d cleaned it himself. The air was still a bit stale but the windows were open, allowing the cool night breeze to sweep through.
He gave Liam a small nod of approval and the relief on his face was almost enough to make Spike smile. Almost. Instead he walked over to the couch and sat down before raising his eyebrow at Liam.
“Ok, I’m here. Spill.”
Liam shifted from one foot to the other, eyes darting all over the room. “I just…” He stopped and bit his lip.
“How about you start by sitting down? Your fidgeting is making me bloody nervous.”
Liam nodded and sat down at the other end of the couch, staring down at his hands clasped between his knees. They sat in silence for a while and then Spike gave him a small nudge.
“You just…?” he encouraged, sighing when Liam raised his head and gave him a confused look. “You were saying, ‘you just…’ what?”
Liam frowned. “I…” He stopped again.
Spike rolled his eyes. “All right. Let’s try this: ‘Spike, I’m sorry about your car.’ How’s that?”
The guilt on Liam’s face increased tenfold. “God, I am so sorry about your car. I know how much it meant to you. I mean she. I know how much she meant to you. And I swear, when I find out who did it I’ll rip his lungs out.”
Spike nodded solemnly. “As long as no one’s looking, right?”
Liam dropped his head in his hands. “Will, please… I panicked. I saw it was your car and then I saw what they’d scribbled on the mirror and… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t… I’m so sorry. Please, Will.”
“You know, Lindsey came over. Faith came over. It wasn’t even their bloody shift and they came anyway, just to see if I was ok. And I bet not one of your mates made a joke about either of them being gay. Am I right?”
Liam blushed, looking just as uncomfortable as Spike wanted him to feel. “It’s not the same.”
“No? Why? Why is it any different?” Spike leaned back, his anger grabbing hold of him again. “You think if someone sees you talking to me a big fucking rainbow will shoot out of your bloody arse? That’s it? Think there will appear a big pink sign above your head with an arrow pointing down, saying “Here’s Liam, the big fat fairy.” Seriously, that’s what you think?”
“No! Stop… Don’t joke! It’s not a fucking joke, Will!”
“No, it’s not. It’s about me being able to trust you because I thought we were friends. And I don’t. I don’t trust you at all, Liam.”
Liam gazed at him, eyes pleading. “We are friends. And you can trust me, I swear.”
“No. I can’t. I can’t, Liam. And until you prove to me that I can…” Spike sighed and shook his head. “I’m not sure I should be coming here.”
“Please. Please don’t say that. How am I supposed to prove it anyway if you’re not here?”
Spike shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Liam.” He stood up and walked to the door but hesitated with his hand on the knob and turned to face Liam again.
“Know what I dreamt last night? I dreamt that you left me in that house. That you turned and walked away, leaving me to burn.” He raised his hand when Liam opened his mouth to protest. “I know. I know you would never do that. Not in a real fire. But let’s say for a moment that that house represents my life and that fire stands for all the shit that can happen to a person. Would you stay and save me, even if it meant you might get burnt, or would you turn and walk away? That’s what I’m wondering. And right now? I believe you would walk away.”
He took a deep breath and looked Liam straight in the eye. “I need to believe you would stay. That you would try everything you could to save me. Because that’s what a real friend would do. That’s what… That’s what the man I’d want for a lover would do.”
Liam just sat there, blinking, and then he bowed his head in defeat. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry. It doesn’t mean anything, Liam. It doesn’t mean a sodding shit when you’re still not doing anything to prove to me that the exact thing won’t happen again. Do you understand?”
Liam nodded and, after a moment’s pause, added, “Are you… Are you and Lindsey…?”
Spike sighed. “He’s a friend and yes, him I do trust. I’m not fucking him though if that’s what you’re asking. Two men actually can be friends without fucking.” He rolled his eyes when Liam stiffened at his words. “He’s not even gay, for fuck’s sake. And even if he were? He’s still not you. And it’s probably proof that I’m a bloody idiot but you’re the one I’m in love with, you arrogant selfish prick.”
And with that he turned around and stormed out.
He wasn’t even halfway down the stairs when his legs started shaking and he paused for a moment, trying to calm himself before continuing down and out the door. It was close to nine o’clock and the street was dark enough to make him hunch his shoulder and quicken his steps. This was the main reason why he never went out on foot after dark. Once burnt and all that, and how ironic was that metaphor in view of what had just gone down.
The worst part was that he still understood Liam, still felt pity for him, and he hated it. He wanted to feel nothing but anger and hurt, wanted to paint Liam as the big ogre, but hadn’t he been in that situation himself once? Granted it was a long time ago, while he was still a teenager, but he’d stood by, watching his schoolmates bully a boy for being “too bloody queer.” Hadn’t stepped forward until they pushed the boy down and started kicking him, all the while shouting and yelling all the hateful words they’d probably learnt from their parents.
Of course it didn’t do much good, at thirteen he was hardly a force to be reckoned with, and apart from the broken hand and multiple bruises he earned, he was also labelled from that day on as “one of them”. Had his friends turn on him, his teachers either ignore him or punish him with low grades and detentions he’d done nothing to deserve.
Funny thing was, at that age he hadn’t even realised he was gay. Late bloomer or what, he’d had his head too buried in comics and his thoughts too consumed by music to spare his sexuality any thought. So he hadn’t found the need to look up girls’ skirts or stare at Molly Henderson’s unusually big knockers but at the same time he wasn’t looking at boys either so really, he had no idea. He just knew it was wrong to kick someone for being a queer. Paul at the comic store was gay and he was a great bloke and it was probably the thought of those boys beating someone like him up just for being what he was that had propelled young Will to act. Or maybe his subconscious had known, even if he hadn’t realised it himself. Whatever it was it had made his life in school living hell and he’d be lying if he said he’d never regretted stepping forward. No one wants that kind of attention, and even if now he was proud of his thirteen year old self, more times than not he’d been irrationally angry with not only himself but the poor boy he’d defended as well, for bringing this upon him.
The problem with Liam was that he was still that thirteen year old boy, watching the bullies, and he’d never stepped forward. He’d never made that choice. He needed to grow up, to face what he was and what he wanted to do with his life. He needed to stop hiding. And no matter how eager Spike was to shove Liam out of the bloody closet, it wasn’t his place. No one could open that particular door but Liam himself and the question was, after thirty years of living a lie, would he ever be able to? Maybe it was too late. Maybe he would never come out. Was Spike ready to be Liam’s dirty little secret if that was the only way he could have him?
However much it pained him he knew the answer was no. If it came to choosing between being with Liam, with hidden rendezvous and pretending they didn’t even know each other, and being himself, open and out and free to tell the world if he loved someone… He’d choose his freedom any day. However much he loved Liam - and how fucking cruel was it that he had to fall in love with someone like that anyway? - he couldn’t betray his own life for him.
Suddenly transferring, like Kate was doing, didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If that was what it came down to he’d rather lick his wounds somewhere else than here, where he could run into Liam any day. He might be strong but he wasn’t that strong.
------------------
The first week went by incredibly slow. He’d gotten used to spending his evenings with Liam and his own apartment seemed too cold and silent. On Friday night Lindsey invited him over for beer and they practiced again the songs Spike planned on joining in on at The Tequila. It was only a couple, both of them more rock than country, and Spike had found himself humming them under his breath at all hours.
“This is gonna be great,” Lindsey said and they clinked their bottles of beer together in triumph. He took a big gulp and swallowed it down before adding, almost casually enough to be believable, “I invited Faith to the gig. Hope that’s alright?”
Spike smirked. “Sure. She coming alone or do I have to distract a certain Wood for you?”
“Shut up. And yes, she’s coming alone as far as I know.” Lindsey allowed himself a small grin. “Guess Wood’s not much of a country fan.”
“His loss. And I’m talking about the girl, not the music, just so we’re clear,” he added with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I still can’t believe I’m going to sing country songs in public. Sid Vicious will be weeping in his grave.”
Lindsey laughed and shook his head. “Country rock. There’s a difference.”
“You’re right. Instead of your dog being run over by a truck and your girlfriend marrying your papa it’s the other way around.”
“Haha. Funny.” Lindsey finished his beer and put it down. “You inviting anyone? And by anyone I mean Liam.”
Spike could feel himself blushing and cursed inwardly. “Don’t think he’s much of a country fan either. And for your information we’re not exactly speaking these days.”
“Is that so?” Lindsey studied him thoughtfully. “Your boy in the dog house?”
“Something like that,” Spike said dismissively and picked up the guitar, strumming a few tunes. “One more time?”
Lindsey held his gaze for a while and then he nodded and reached for his own. “Sure. From the top?”
“No better place.”
“And here I always pictured you for a bottom.”
“That’s just because you like my arse.” Spike grinned amicably. “That’s alright, it’s a nice arse.”
“Almost as nice as mine.”
“Really? Feel free to show it to me anytime.”
“Yeah? Well, if you…” Lindsey paused then laughed and shook his head. “Why do we keep doing that?”
“Because we have no one else to flirt with?” Spike answered, smiling as well. “It’s a bit pathetic.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m thinking of it as practice. By the time I get up the courage to hit on Faith, I’ll be all set.” Lindsey winked.
Spike chuckled. “Maybe we should stay away from the cock-in-arse jokes then. From what I hear girls don’t usually go for that until the fourth date,” he joked.
Lindsey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I don’t know what kind of girls you know but the ones I’ve been with have kept strictly to the front gate no matter how many dates.”
“Well, you Americans are all prudes...” At Lindsey’s pointed look he frowned. “Seriously? No backstage pass at all?”
“No.” Lindsey shifted slightly on the couch and… were his cheeks going pink? “I mean, there’s no fun for girls there, right? Why would they want it?”
“I’m not sure I’m the best person to explain the hows and whats of various positions when it comes to sleeping with girls but from what I‘ve heard they can enjoy it quite a bit.” Spike elbowed him playfully. “And Faith strikes me as just the kind of girl who might be up for it.”
Oh yeah, that was a definite blush.
“Funny. Think I’ll stick to the regular sex.”
“Ah well. But if you do decide to go there?” Spike tried his best to look serious. “The key words are ‘slow’ and ‘lube’ and not in that order.”
He laughed at Lindsey’s obvious discomfort, especially when Lindsey glared at him and said, “So how about that song?” before strumming the guitar almost hard enough to break a string.
Continued here
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 12
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3313 words this part
Author's note: Unbeta'd as usual. Sorry this part is a bit short but on the bright side I do have more written so you might not have to wait too long.
Previous chapters are here
banner by mentalme85
The Fire Within, Chapter 12
He was tired and cranky the next day. A few too many beers and way too much soul-searching for him to get a decent night’s sleep. He’d lain in bed, his thoughts switching from Liam to Lindsey and when he finally gave in and jerked off his dick couldn’t even decide which one it wanted.
No, that wasn’t true. He wanted Liam, he couldn’t deny that even if he wanted to. There was just something about that man that caught a hold of his heart and refused to let go. Lindsey… It was the comfort of friendship and trust that was drawing him to Lindsey.
That was the thing, he didn’t trust Liam. Not at all. Couldn’t trust him to watch his back or stand up for him. Couldn’t trust him not to break his heart into tiny little pieces and stomp on them. It was a bitter truth to come to terms with. How can you love someone if you don’t trust them?
When he finally fell asleep he dreamt of the fire for the first time since he woke up at the hospital. He was fighting his way through the smoke and heat with the little girl in his arms. Just like that day it overwhelmed him and he fell down, trying to shield her with his body. Liam took the girl from his arms, gave her to Gunn and then… he turned around and walked away. Spike woke up sweating and trembling, the memory of the flames licking his face so real he had to check himself in the bathroom mirror to be sure he wasn’t burned.
Kate was quiet as well. Ever since she’d told him she was moving away she’d been withdrawn and worried and he knew she felt guilty for leaving him hanging. He didn’t blame her though, he was just nervous about the future. If he had to be with that Summers girl every day it would drive him insane.
It was also time to face Liam. He’d ignored him for two days but this morning he’d flickered through the text messages and Liam seemed worried and guilt ridden, almost shameful. Served him right. The rising desperation in his texts still went to Spike’s heart and he felt a tiny bit bad for not returning any of Liam’s calls. So when he finally got home he sat down, phone in hand, and took a deep breath before dialling Liam’s number. It rang for a long while and just as he was about to hang up there was a click and a rough voice said, “Hello?”
“Liam. Hi.”
There was a loud bang on the other end of the line and he could hear the sound of glass clinging. Oh great.
“Will? Thank god. Are you…?”
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No! I mean, yes, but…”
“Call me when you’re sober.”
Spike snapped the cell shut, clutching it in his fist, the heel of his other hand pressed to his forehead. Fuck. Why the hell couldn’t he just cut Liam out of his life?
The cell rang in his hand but one look at the display showed it was Liam and he threw it away in disgust. He was going to take a shower, then he was going out to buy something to eat and then… Then he might call Liam again.
It was eight by the time he got home again. The light on his answering machine was blinking. He still hadn’t listened to any of his voice messages since that day and frankly he’d rather erase them than go through them. Finally though he reached out and pushed the button.
“Fuck, Will. I’m so sorry. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. Please. Call me.”
Beep.
“Will, please just talk to me. I’m worried. I don’t even know where you live. Please.”
Beep.
It went on like that for a while, message after message, but then suddenly the tone changed.
“I know you were with him. He fuck you? You let that little shit fuck you and you won’t even-”
The message cut off and Spike stared at the phone in horror. Liam was obviously drunk out of his skull but that didn’t explain why he thought…
Beep.
“You whore. No, he’s the whore. He’s not even gay, you moron. You…”
Beep.
“Will, I don’t care. If you were with him. I just want… Please call me.”
Beep.
“I loved him. So much. And you… you are so much like him but you’re not him. I know you’re not him. And… I don’t want to love you. I don’t. Because it’s all just shit and people die and… God, he died. He died. My Billy. God. Will… Please. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without you.”
Beep.
“Will, I’m sorry. I’m not drunk. I’m hung over but I’m not drunk. Please. Call me. Please.”
That was the last one. All the drunkenness was gone from Liam’s voice. He just sounded tired and depressed. Spike stood frozen for a moment and then he grabbed his jacket and stormed back out.
It took him a little over twenty minutes to walk over to Liam’s apartment. The lights were on in the windows that faced the street and he could see a dark figure moving behind the curtains. For a moment he stood still, hidden by the shadows as he watched Liam pace back and forth. When the curtains suddenly moved Spike stepped out of the shadows and moved to the door, pressing the buzzer. It buzzed back immediately and he pushed the door open and jogged up the stairs.
Liam was waiting for him in the doorway to his apartment. He was pink-faced and clean-shaven, his jeans freshly laundered and the t-shirt still had creases from where it’d been folded. It was so obvious that Liam had made the best effort he could to look presentable and just for that Spike felt some of his anger melt away.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Liam swallowed and then stepped aside to let him in. Spike slipped past him and looked around in surprise. The apartment was tidy and even if it could use some dusting and mopping it looked better than Spike could ever remember seeing it. Well, apart from the time he’d cleaned it himself. The air was still a bit stale but the windows were open, allowing the cool night breeze to sweep through.
He gave Liam a small nod of approval and the relief on his face was almost enough to make Spike smile. Almost. Instead he walked over to the couch and sat down before raising his eyebrow at Liam.
“Ok, I’m here. Spill.”
Liam shifted from one foot to the other, eyes darting all over the room. “I just…” He stopped and bit his lip.
“How about you start by sitting down? Your fidgeting is making me bloody nervous.”
Liam nodded and sat down at the other end of the couch, staring down at his hands clasped between his knees. They sat in silence for a while and then Spike gave him a small nudge.
“You just…?” he encouraged, sighing when Liam raised his head and gave him a confused look. “You were saying, ‘you just…’ what?”
Liam frowned. “I…” He stopped again.
Spike rolled his eyes. “All right. Let’s try this: ‘Spike, I’m sorry about your car.’ How’s that?”
The guilt on Liam’s face increased tenfold. “God, I am so sorry about your car. I know how much it meant to you. I mean she. I know how much she meant to you. And I swear, when I find out who did it I’ll rip his lungs out.”
Spike nodded solemnly. “As long as no one’s looking, right?”
Liam dropped his head in his hands. “Will, please… I panicked. I saw it was your car and then I saw what they’d scribbled on the mirror and… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t… I’m so sorry. Please, Will.”
“You know, Lindsey came over. Faith came over. It wasn’t even their bloody shift and they came anyway, just to see if I was ok. And I bet not one of your mates made a joke about either of them being gay. Am I right?”
Liam blushed, looking just as uncomfortable as Spike wanted him to feel. “It’s not the same.”
“No? Why? Why is it any different?” Spike leaned back, his anger grabbing hold of him again. “You think if someone sees you talking to me a big fucking rainbow will shoot out of your bloody arse? That’s it? Think there will appear a big pink sign above your head with an arrow pointing down, saying “Here’s Liam, the big fat fairy.” Seriously, that’s what you think?”
“No! Stop… Don’t joke! It’s not a fucking joke, Will!”
“No, it’s not. It’s about me being able to trust you because I thought we were friends. And I don’t. I don’t trust you at all, Liam.”
Liam gazed at him, eyes pleading. “We are friends. And you can trust me, I swear.”
“No. I can’t. I can’t, Liam. And until you prove to me that I can…” Spike sighed and shook his head. “I’m not sure I should be coming here.”
“Please. Please don’t say that. How am I supposed to prove it anyway if you’re not here?”
Spike shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Liam.” He stood up and walked to the door but hesitated with his hand on the knob and turned to face Liam again.
“Know what I dreamt last night? I dreamt that you left me in that house. That you turned and walked away, leaving me to burn.” He raised his hand when Liam opened his mouth to protest. “I know. I know you would never do that. Not in a real fire. But let’s say for a moment that that house represents my life and that fire stands for all the shit that can happen to a person. Would you stay and save me, even if it meant you might get burnt, or would you turn and walk away? That’s what I’m wondering. And right now? I believe you would walk away.”
He took a deep breath and looked Liam straight in the eye. “I need to believe you would stay. That you would try everything you could to save me. Because that’s what a real friend would do. That’s what… That’s what the man I’d want for a lover would do.”
Liam just sat there, blinking, and then he bowed his head in defeat. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry. It doesn’t mean anything, Liam. It doesn’t mean a sodding shit when you’re still not doing anything to prove to me that the exact thing won’t happen again. Do you understand?”
Liam nodded and, after a moment’s pause, added, “Are you… Are you and Lindsey…?”
Spike sighed. “He’s a friend and yes, him I do trust. I’m not fucking him though if that’s what you’re asking. Two men actually can be friends without fucking.” He rolled his eyes when Liam stiffened at his words. “He’s not even gay, for fuck’s sake. And even if he were? He’s still not you. And it’s probably proof that I’m a bloody idiot but you’re the one I’m in love with, you arrogant selfish prick.”
And with that he turned around and stormed out.
He wasn’t even halfway down the stairs when his legs started shaking and he paused for a moment, trying to calm himself before continuing down and out the door. It was close to nine o’clock and the street was dark enough to make him hunch his shoulder and quicken his steps. This was the main reason why he never went out on foot after dark. Once burnt and all that, and how ironic was that metaphor in view of what had just gone down.
The worst part was that he still understood Liam, still felt pity for him, and he hated it. He wanted to feel nothing but anger and hurt, wanted to paint Liam as the big ogre, but hadn’t he been in that situation himself once? Granted it was a long time ago, while he was still a teenager, but he’d stood by, watching his schoolmates bully a boy for being “too bloody queer.” Hadn’t stepped forward until they pushed the boy down and started kicking him, all the while shouting and yelling all the hateful words they’d probably learnt from their parents.
Of course it didn’t do much good, at thirteen he was hardly a force to be reckoned with, and apart from the broken hand and multiple bruises he earned, he was also labelled from that day on as “one of them”. Had his friends turn on him, his teachers either ignore him or punish him with low grades and detentions he’d done nothing to deserve.
Funny thing was, at that age he hadn’t even realised he was gay. Late bloomer or what, he’d had his head too buried in comics and his thoughts too consumed by music to spare his sexuality any thought. So he hadn’t found the need to look up girls’ skirts or stare at Molly Henderson’s unusually big knockers but at the same time he wasn’t looking at boys either so really, he had no idea. He just knew it was wrong to kick someone for being a queer. Paul at the comic store was gay and he was a great bloke and it was probably the thought of those boys beating someone like him up just for being what he was that had propelled young Will to act. Or maybe his subconscious had known, even if he hadn’t realised it himself. Whatever it was it had made his life in school living hell and he’d be lying if he said he’d never regretted stepping forward. No one wants that kind of attention, and even if now he was proud of his thirteen year old self, more times than not he’d been irrationally angry with not only himself but the poor boy he’d defended as well, for bringing this upon him.
The problem with Liam was that he was still that thirteen year old boy, watching the bullies, and he’d never stepped forward. He’d never made that choice. He needed to grow up, to face what he was and what he wanted to do with his life. He needed to stop hiding. And no matter how eager Spike was to shove Liam out of the bloody closet, it wasn’t his place. No one could open that particular door but Liam himself and the question was, after thirty years of living a lie, would he ever be able to? Maybe it was too late. Maybe he would never come out. Was Spike ready to be Liam’s dirty little secret if that was the only way he could have him?
However much it pained him he knew the answer was no. If it came to choosing between being with Liam, with hidden rendezvous and pretending they didn’t even know each other, and being himself, open and out and free to tell the world if he loved someone… He’d choose his freedom any day. However much he loved Liam - and how fucking cruel was it that he had to fall in love with someone like that anyway? - he couldn’t betray his own life for him.
Suddenly transferring, like Kate was doing, didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If that was what it came down to he’d rather lick his wounds somewhere else than here, where he could run into Liam any day. He might be strong but he wasn’t that strong.
------------------
The first week went by incredibly slow. He’d gotten used to spending his evenings with Liam and his own apartment seemed too cold and silent. On Friday night Lindsey invited him over for beer and they practiced again the songs Spike planned on joining in on at The Tequila. It was only a couple, both of them more rock than country, and Spike had found himself humming them under his breath at all hours.
“This is gonna be great,” Lindsey said and they clinked their bottles of beer together in triumph. He took a big gulp and swallowed it down before adding, almost casually enough to be believable, “I invited Faith to the gig. Hope that’s alright?”
Spike smirked. “Sure. She coming alone or do I have to distract a certain Wood for you?”
“Shut up. And yes, she’s coming alone as far as I know.” Lindsey allowed himself a small grin. “Guess Wood’s not much of a country fan.”
“His loss. And I’m talking about the girl, not the music, just so we’re clear,” he added with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I still can’t believe I’m going to sing country songs in public. Sid Vicious will be weeping in his grave.”
Lindsey laughed and shook his head. “Country rock. There’s a difference.”
“You’re right. Instead of your dog being run over by a truck and your girlfriend marrying your papa it’s the other way around.”
“Haha. Funny.” Lindsey finished his beer and put it down. “You inviting anyone? And by anyone I mean Liam.”
Spike could feel himself blushing and cursed inwardly. “Don’t think he’s much of a country fan either. And for your information we’re not exactly speaking these days.”
“Is that so?” Lindsey studied him thoughtfully. “Your boy in the dog house?”
“Something like that,” Spike said dismissively and picked up the guitar, strumming a few tunes. “One more time?”
Lindsey held his gaze for a while and then he nodded and reached for his own. “Sure. From the top?”
“No better place.”
“And here I always pictured you for a bottom.”
“That’s just because you like my arse.” Spike grinned amicably. “That’s alright, it’s a nice arse.”
“Almost as nice as mine.”
“Really? Feel free to show it to me anytime.”
“Yeah? Well, if you…” Lindsey paused then laughed and shook his head. “Why do we keep doing that?”
“Because we have no one else to flirt with?” Spike answered, smiling as well. “It’s a bit pathetic.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m thinking of it as practice. By the time I get up the courage to hit on Faith, I’ll be all set.” Lindsey winked.
Spike chuckled. “Maybe we should stay away from the cock-in-arse jokes then. From what I hear girls don’t usually go for that until the fourth date,” he joked.
Lindsey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I don’t know what kind of girls you know but the ones I’ve been with have kept strictly to the front gate no matter how many dates.”
“Well, you Americans are all prudes...” At Lindsey’s pointed look he frowned. “Seriously? No backstage pass at all?”
“No.” Lindsey shifted slightly on the couch and… were his cheeks going pink? “I mean, there’s no fun for girls there, right? Why would they want it?”
“I’m not sure I’m the best person to explain the hows and whats of various positions when it comes to sleeping with girls but from what I‘ve heard they can enjoy it quite a bit.” Spike elbowed him playfully. “And Faith strikes me as just the kind of girl who might be up for it.”
Oh yeah, that was a definite blush.
“Funny. Think I’ll stick to the regular sex.”
“Ah well. But if you do decide to go there?” Spike tried his best to look serious. “The key words are ‘slow’ and ‘lube’ and not in that order.”
He laughed at Lindsey’s obvious discomfort, especially when Lindsey glared at him and said, “So how about that song?” before strumming the guitar almost hard enough to break a string.
Continued here