Pairing: Spike(William)/Angel(Liam)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Spike moves into a new apartment building.
Distribution: redssoulmates, Jess' Lair
Feedback: No feedback..no fic. Lots of feedback..I write more. I thrive on it.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. I don't own any of the characters. I don't make any money from it. All credit goes to Joss.
Spoilers: None
Notes: This is an AU human fic. No vamps. No seers. No visions. Human!!! '' character's thoughts
Warnings: language, sex, m/m
Thanks to Jess for the encouragement and the look over!!!
A/N: Not sure about the title, it might change. Let me know what you think?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 1~
Spike pulled up to the apartment building, turning the engine off. Glancing out the window, he noticed it was already sundown. He loved the night. He could unwind and be himself.
Stepping out of the car, his boots hit the ground with a thud. As he stood up, his duster seemed to flow around his body. After shutting the door, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair.
Spike had decided he needed something new. A week ago he had cut his blond hair, his results ending in a buzz cut. A new style. A new life. A new place to live. 'Maybe I'll actually stay in this place for awhile.' He had been in the states for less than six months, nowhere in specific. Just here and there.
He walked around the car to the trunk and opened it. Spike pulled out two bags and his guitar case. He didn't own much else, not anything worthwhile. Lately he had been moving around too much. Slinging the bags over his shoulders, he slammed the trunk closed and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his new apartment key and a slip of paper that listed the unit number.
Spike climbed the few steps up to the main door and walked inside the double doors. Making his way into the elevator, he sighed. He felt like he had done this one too many times. Starting over. 'Why can't I just be happy for once?' Hearing the familiar ding from the elevator, he stepped out onto the floor, glancing at the paper once more that he was holding. 'Number 512.' Glancing at several numbers, he finally headed in the right direction.
Liam had been standing in the hallway talking with his best friend Doyle when he felt the urge to suddenly look up. Stepping off of the elevator was an unfamiliar man. Liam let his eyes graze over the stranger's body. 'He's beautiful.' Shaking his head, he tried to concentrate on Doyle's words rather than the stranger coming down the hallway.
Spike noticed the two men as he walked down the hallway, in search of his new apartment. Actually he glanced at one of the men but noticed the other one. Letting his eyes roam, he took in the man's appearance. He had dark brown hair that looked like he just rolled out of bed, and combed his fingers through it. Messy but sexy. He was wearing a pair of black slacks with a long sleeve brown shirt. Spike glanced into the man's eyes. Dark chocolate brown. The kind of eyes you could get lost in. As the man met his gaze, Spike averted his eyes away, looking down. Walking past them, he could feel his own heartbeat start to speed up. 'What am I thinking? Chances are he's straight. I just need a bloody drink.' Finding and opening his door, he walked inside, shutting the door behind him.
Liam had kept eyes on the stranger. There was just something about him. His look. The way he carried himself. Or maybe it was the tight jeans he was wearing. And the leather duster didn't hurt either.
Doyle knew his best friend was distracted by the stranger. As he turned around, he saw the man's door close. "Thought that apartment was empty?"
"It was," Liam told him.
"Looks like someone's moving in."
Liam grinned on the inside to that very thought. "Yeah, looks like."
"And he only lives two doors away from you."
~Part: 2~
After locking the door, Spike placed his bags on the floor. Glancing around the room, he started to grin.
~~~*~~~
Doyle watched Liam's eyes still fixated on the strange blond until he disappeared behind the door. "Interested?" he asked Liam jokingly.
"Interested in what? The blonde? He's not my type."
"Right. Leather duster. Tight jeans that show every curve. Who would want that?"
"Yeah," Liam mumbled.
"So are we going to the club or not?"
"Yeah, yeah," Liam told him. "Let me change and I'll be right out."
~~~*~~~
Spike couldn't help but to think of how he had gotten the new apartment. Six months ago he had decided he needed a major change. Something different. He was sick of the way his life was. Didn't know who he was anymore. And he was tired of love. Or not love as the case went. He had asked his best friend, Willow, to help him out on changing his life. He knew he wanted to move but he didn't have a clue as to where. He watched as she seemed to fly through different web pages pulling up different places to live in various cities. Going from London to the States would be a stretch, but it would be different. She had found him a place he instantly fell in love with. Two bedrooms. Small hot tub. Not much of a kitchen, but he didn't cook that much so it didn't matter. Master bedroom with huge windows. And a fireplace in the main room that you could just lose yourself in if you stared at it long enough. On the other hand, he knew that pictures didn't always reflect the real thing. In this case it did.
The place had not been up for rent, only to buy. And it's not like he didn't have the money. His parents had left him a considerable amount of money and he had made some more with his music. After signing the contract without actually looking at the place, he packed his bags, said goodbye to his best friend and had gotten into his car to drive away without looking back.
After coming to the States, he debated on whether or not to actually move into the place or just sell it as it stands. Spike didn't usually stay in one place for very long.
Walking through the apartment, he couldn't help but to think of Willow. She had placed several phone calls when he had gotten close in his drive and turned on the electric, water and phone. She had also had several pieces of furniture delivered, that he had picked out, so everything could be ready when he arrived. A black leather couch. TV with a dvd player. A huge king size four poster bed.
A smirk formed on his face. I could actually likeit here. He glanced at the fridge, knowing he would need to get some food, if just for tonight. Then he started making a mental list. Books. Sheets.Food. Pulling the apartment keys out of his pocket, he started for the door, hoping to find a grocery store and some liquor.
~~~*~~~
Liam had had a drink but he just wasn't enjoying himself. He had been at the club for a couple of hours but his mind was still on the man. Who was he?What's he like? He turned to Doyle who seemed to be currently occupied with a woman around his age.
"Man, I'm gonna go."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. You have fun though. I'll see you in a day or so."
"See ya around."
Liam nodded his head, making his way back to his apartment.
~~~*~~~
Spike had been walking through the night air for a couple of hours. He saw various stores, which were all currently closed. He had bought a bottle of whiskey and some groceries to get him through the night. Noticing a storm coming in, he hurried back to his apartment.
Spike stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to his floor. Just as he leaned his back against the wall, he saw a hand slide into the small space between the doors, forcing the doors to open. As the man entered the elevator, Spike's breath caught in his throat.
Liam stepped onto the elevator, noticing the man that had occupied his thoughts. He was glad he had left early.
"What floor?" Spike asked him.
"Same as you."
Spike raised an eyebrow at him. "How would you know that, mate?"
"I saw you in the hallway when I was talking to a friend."
As Liam talked to him, Spike had to fight the urge not to push him against the wall and do everything his mind was screaming of at that very moment. Letting his eyes drift down Liam's body, he noticed the man was wearing tight leather pants and a silk shirt. Don't look at the leather. In fact don't lookat him. Yeah, right. I wanna do a hell of a lot morethan look.
"So I guess you're new here and everything, to the apartment building."
"It would appear that way, mate."
Hearing the tone of the stranger, Liam thought that he had done something wrong. All of his insecurities were coming to the front full force. Closing his mouth, he waited silently until the elevator reached their floor.
~Part: 3~
Spike noticed the tension thicken between him and the other man. As the elevator reached the desired floor, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. "After you," Spike told him.
Liam gave him a half smile. "Thanks."
Truth was Spike wasn't trying to be friendly. He just wanted to watch the man's leather covered ass without seeming obvious. Usually he didn't care about being obvious but usually he could figure out if someone was gay or not.
Spike walked behind him until they had reached Liam's front door. "So, you lived here long?" he asked casually.
Liam turned around quickly; surprised the other man was still standing there. "Oh.um, a bit. A couple of years."
"You like it?"
"Yeah, sure. It's a nice place.'
"My name, it's Spike."
"Spike?"
"Yeah, something wrong with that?"
"No," Liam said quickly, shaking his head.
"You wanna tell me your name, mate or should I guess?"
"Oh.sorry. It's Liam."
"Liam?"
"My friends call me Angel."
"I like it a hell of a lot better than Liam." Spike watched Angel fidget for a moment before he spoke up again. "Well, I guess I better be going. See ya around."
"Yeah.bye," Angel said softly. Not wanting Spike to leave yet, he spoke up a little louder. "I could always show you around town, you being new and all?" he asked hopefully.
"Don't worry about it. I'm good. Maybe I'll see you around."
"Yeah.maybe." And with those final words he felt as if Spike was out of his life for good. Angel entered his apartment, closing the door behind him. 'Well, you just blew your one chance. Way to go.'
Spike closed the door and set his groceries on the kitchen counter. He couldn't get his mind off of Angel. Especially Angel in leather. Feeling his pants tighten at the image, he knew he would bepretending it was Angel touching him instead of his own hand tonight.
~~~*~~~
Angel looked down at the piece of mail in his hands. It had been three days since he had seen Spike. Three very long days. And now he would get to see him. Silently thanking whoever put the mail in his box by mistake, he walked over to his new neighbor two doors away.
Spike heard the knock on his door and opened it without a second thought. Standing there in front of him was the last person he thought he would ever see again. Angel.
Angel's mouth dropped open when Spike opened the door in nothing but a pair of leather pants. He could feel himself blushing and becoming flustered.
Spike noticed Angel's reaction. He took a step towards him. "See something you fancy, pet?" he practically purred.
"I.uh.I mean." He handed him the envelope. "I got this in my box. They delivered it to me by mistake."
"Thanks," Spike told him as he took the envelope from him, letting their fingers brush against each other momentarily.
"I.I need to go, now." Angel quickly made his way back to his apartment and shut the door.
Spike started to smirk. "Maybe he's not so straight after all."
~Part: 4~
Angel made it back to his apartment and took a deep breath, trying to shake the image of Spike in leather pants out of his mind. Who was he kidding? The image was permanently embedded in his head forever. Glancing at the clock, his eyes widened. 'Shit, I'm gonna be late.' Changing quickly, he made his way out the door to meet Doyle.
~~~*~~~
Walking into the club, Angel let his eyes roam until he had found Doyle. Ordering a drink, he sat down, wondering if he should tell Doyle about Spike.
"Decided to show up, did you?"
Angel shrugged. "Got distracted."
"By a blonde?"
"I think it was the leather that did it, actually. And why would you say it was a blonde?"
Doyle's eyes lit up at the statement. "Leather? Really? He could be a kinky little thing."
"I'm not into that sort of thing."
"Please, everyone is into that sort of thing. So, you gonna tell me what happened or do I have to beat it out of you?"
"You'd enjoy that a bit too much."
"You're right. I would. Whip, handcuffs."
Angel took a deep breath. "It was nothing. I need another drink." Standing up, he made his way to the bar before Doyle could say another word.
~~~*~~~
By the time he got back to the table, he knew Doyle would be impatient. They had been best friends for too long for him not to know him. "It was nothing."
"A blonde in leather is something."
"It's not like he wore it for me. We talked a bit the other day. Exchanged names, that sort of thing. Offered to show him around and he declined."
"Sorry, man."
Angel shrugged. "Wasn't meant to be. Earlier today I got a piece of his mail and went over to his apartment to give it back to him. He answered the door in a pair of leather pants and nothing else. Probably had a girl over."
"You sure he's into girls?"
"I doubt he's into guys."
~~~*~~~
Spike walked out of the main office with the manager of the club. For the last hour they had talked about music, more specifically the kind of music he wanted played at his club. Luckily for Spike, it was the direction he was headed in. Spike had played some sample pieces for his hopefully soon to be boss.
He was confident when he had first walked in the door. He had played the part. His leather pants. Tight black t-shirt. Boots and of course his duster. The only reason the manager, Todd, had agreed to meet Spike was because of who Spike was. Todd had recognized Spike from a band that he had played in while back in London. He tried to explain to him that he wanted a new direction. He wanted to play guitar and sing solo. Just him. He knew his music had a rock and roll edge to it, but now he was writing his own music. He wanted to make a name for himself. After playing a few pieces, Todd had told him he had seen enough.
"Make yourself familiar with the club, Spike. You have a tryout performance next week. If the crowd likes you, you stay employed. If not, you go elsewhere."
"Got it." He shook the man's hand, grinning.
"I'll call your apartment and leave the details on your voice mail."
"I'll look forward to it." Seeing his new boss walk out of the club, Spike turned around letting his eyes wander. Seeing a familiar figure, he couldn't help but to smirk. 'Angel.' Glancing over at the man next to him, he recognized him as the man that Angel had been talking to in the hallway the day he moved in. Ordering himself a drink, he made his way over to their table.
~Part: 5~
Just as Spike walked behind Angel, he spoke up. "Fancy seeing you here, pet." His night might be enjoyable after all.
Angel froze as he heard the voice while Doyle just glanced between the two men.
"Mind if I join you?" Spike asked casually.
"Yes," Angel answered quickly.
Doyle glanced at his best friend. 'He might just kill me for this.' "I don't mind. Why don't you take a seat?"
Angel's eyes widened as he stared at his best friend. "What do you think you're doing?" he gritted through his teeth.
"I'm introducing myself to your friend," Doyle smiled.
"Not my friend," he mumbled.
Spike decided to cut into the conversation at that moment. He didn't want Angel to be uncomfortable around him. He just.wanted him. In every kind of position possible. Pulling out the chair and sitting down, he placed his drink on the table. He looked at Angel and then at Doyle. "The name's Spike."
"Doyle."
"Doyle," he repeated. "Good strong name that. So.is this a date? Am I intruding?" Spike felt guilty for a minute that he was ruining a moment but at the same time jealous thinking the man was already taken. He smirked as he watched Angel choke on his drink and Doyle chuckle.
"Date Angel? Not in this life."
"You're not into guys?" Spike asked. "I just though."
"I'm into guys," Doyle interrupted. "But me and Angel, we're just best friends."
Angel was partly annoyed that Spike was at the same club with him and partly thrilled at the thought of him there. "What are you doing here?"
"What if I was following you?" Spike purred.
Angel tried his best to look bored when all he wanted to do was melt at his words. "Wanna try again?"
All of a sudden, an older man showed up at the table, pulling Doyle onto the floor to dance.
Spike focused his attention on Angel again. He shrugged. "Had a meeting with the owner of this place. He likes my music. Basically I have a try out gig next week. If it goes well, I'll have a steady gig."
"You're a musician?"
"You say that like you're surprised. I figured the leather, the guitar, something would have given it away."
"I just.didn't think about it."
Spike slid his hands over his hips, drawing Angel's eyes to him. "It's what the leather pants are for. Performing and all that. The chit's like it."
'Leather. Spike. No, no.concentrate.' "So."
"So, what do you do, Liam?"
"Do? To who?"
Spike raised his eyebrow at the question. "Not quite the line of questioning I had in mind, pet." He saw Angel start to blush. "What do you do for a living, mate?"
"That. Of course that. Well, I'm an artist. Mostly I paint, but."
"Your stuff any good?"
"People seem to think so."
"Do you think so?"
"I enjoy what I do."
Spike waited for an invitation to look at his artwork but never received one.
Angel stood up quickly from the table. "Well I should really get going."
"Going home?"
"Yeah."
"What about your friend?"
"Doyle? He stays after I leave all the time."
Spike nodded his head. "Don't mind if I share a cab with you, do you? We are going to the same building after all."
"Oh.um.no, I don't mind. Just figured you'd be waiting for your.girlfriend."
"Girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend, mate."
"Oh. Well I guess we should get going then. I'll.uh, meet you outside."
"I'll be waiting." Walking past Angel, Spike let his fingers reach out, brushing against his thigh 'accidentally'.
~~~*~~~
After saying good-bye to Doyle, Angel made his way out of the club to where Spike was standing with a cab already waiting. He reached to open the door at the same time Spike did and their fingers touched. A touch that should have only lasted a second but lasted longer. A touch that sent a spark through the both of them. Angel quickly pulled away, climbing into the cab silently.
Spike took a deep breath and climbed in after him. After telling the cab driver the address, the rest of the trip was made in silence.
After arriving at the building, Angel paid the driver and made his way into the door and the elevator without a word leaving his mouth. Spike wasn't sure what to say either, so instead he said nothing at all.
~~~*~~~
Walking off the elevator, Angel walked to his apartment and slid the key in the lock, unaware that Spike was directly behind him.
"So, pet."
Angel jumped slightly hearing the voice behind him. When he turned around, his body was practically against Spike's. "I.uh.didn't know you were still there."
"Had something to ask ya."
"Ok," Angel said, his voice sounding faint.
Spike leaned into his body, feeling the warmth of his skin against him. "Wondering if your offer was still available?"
"Offer?" he squeaked.
"Mmm. Your offer," Spike repeated. "You offered to show me around a bit."
"You declined that offer," Angel said disappointed.
"Should have never bloody well done that," Spike mumbled. "Well, I guess that's that." Spike didn't want to seem like he wanted the man too much, he was afraid it would scare him off. "Can't a bloke change his mind?" Hearing silence, he turned around and started towards his apartment.
'Spike doesn't want you. He's straight. Just wants someone to show him around. I could do that.' "Spike?" he called out.
He stopped and turned around. "Yeah, mate."
"What did you have in mind?"
'Well, that was a loaded question if he ever heard one.' "Don't know yet. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon. How's that?"
"See you then," Angel told him and then disappeared into his apartment.
"I wouldn't miss it for anything, luv," he whispered after the door shut.
~Part: 6~
Spike woke up the next afternoon, his arms and legs tangled in the black silk sheets of his four-poster bed. He loved the feel of the material against his skin. Realizing he would be seeing Angel soon, a smirk came across his face. He flipped back the covers and climbed out of bed. It was still early in the afternoon but as good of a time as any to greet his neighbor. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he made his way into the bathroom, turning the hot water on. Spike disappeared into the shower, letting the steam of the shower take him over.
An hour later, he grabbed his duster and his keys and walked out the door. Walking two doors over, he knocked loudly.
Angel heard the knock on the door as he stepped out of the shower and looked at the clock. It was still early. There was no way that that was Spike. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist and headed for the door. He could tell whomever it was to go away and then he could get dressed. "Just a minute," he called out. Opening the door, he was about to open his mouth to tell the person to go away when he realized who it was. Spike.
Spike could feel his jeans tighten around him as the door swung open. There in nothing but a towel stood Angel. The image had a sense of perfection about it. Water droplets were still sliding down his chest as Spike tried to hold back a groan.
Angel's eyes widened in surprise. "It's early. You're early. Really early."
"Got that. You gonna invite me in?"
"No!"
"No?"
"It's just I'm still in a towel and.come on in," he relented.
Spike stepped inside the apartment, closing the door behind him. He watched Angel. The way his body moved. "You could always lose the towel," he mumbled under his breath.
Angel thought that he heard Spike say something. "What was that?"
"Nothing, mate."
"I'll just.uh.get dressed. You stay there."
Spike saw Angel dart into his bedroom closing the door. "Well, what kind of bloody fun is that?" he said looking at the closed door. Spike glanced around the apartment. Black leather couch. Deep crimson curtains. 'He likes comfort.' Spike kept looking around but saw one thing it lacked. Any kind of artwork.
Angel had quickly changed into a pair of pants with a long sleeve shirt. He came out of the bedroom and watched Spike with interest. "Looking for something."
Spike turned around hearing his voice. "You said you were an artist. Where's your.art?"
"My artwork is in the bedroom. I don't usually display them about."
"Self conscious?"
"A bit."
"So to the bedroom, then?"
"What?" Angel asked. 'Did he really just ask me that?'
"To see your artwork, mate. Although if you have other ideas." Spike dropped the sentence midway letting Angel come to his own conclusions.
"No. No ideas. No bedroom and no artwork. It's just very personal to me."
Spike was a bit disappointed. He couldn't figure Angel out. "I guess we should get going. We could always walk around for a bit. Grab a bite to eat and all that."
"Yeah, just let me get my keys." Angel grabbed his leather coat and keys and the two walked out of the apartment headed for the elevator.
~Part: 7~
Angel had spent the day showing Spike around town. He showed him a few clubs, a couple restaurants, some stores, a museum and an art gallery. Spike had refused to actually go into any of them. It was near evening as they walked down the busy street. Angel was becoming frustrated with Spike. He turned his head and glared at him.
Spike didn't need a tour of the city. Didn't want one. He just wanted to spend a bit of time with Angel.
"If you weren't going to go into any of these places, why did you ask me to show you around?"
Spike shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea. I know where the places are now, yeah?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"See, mission accomplished." Seeing a pool hall across the street, he stopped and pointed. "Fancy a game of pool, mate?"
"What?" Angel asked and then turned his head. "Yeah, I guess. Why not?"
~~~*~~~
They crossed the street and walked into the building. "Find a table, why don't you?"
Angel turned around and left in searching for a table, trying to push the blonde out of his mind. "This is such a waste of my time," he mumbled.
Spike had been standing behind him, listening to every word. "That, so?" he asked hurt. "You don't have to be here. You can always leave."
Angel turned around quickly. "I didn't mean."
"Look, I heard you. I didn't bloody well force you to come in here or anywhere else for that matter. You know where the door is. See yourself out."
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean then?"
"I just.I don't know how to play pool," Angel said quietly.
"You've never played?"
"No. Look I'll just leave."
"Grab yourself a stick, mate."
"Huh?"
"A stick to play pool. I'll teach you."
"You don't have to."
"I know I don't." As Angel walked away, Spike smirked to himself.
~~~*~~~
"Right now you're just gonna try and get the ball in the hole. After that, I'll teach you the rules." Spike sat back and watched as Angel struggled. Spike stood there watching the man's body rather than the pool table. Hearing low curses under Angel's breath, Spike pushed himself away from the wall.
The place was empty enough that it would look as if a friend was just teaching another friend how to play pool. Spike had other ideas though. He brought his body up behind Angel's, feeling his body tense. "First you need to relax, mate. And spread your feet a bit apart."
"Why?"
"You wanna put the bloody ball in the hole or not?"
"Fine." Angel did as he was told.
Spike then reached his hands over Angel's, positioning his fingers around the stick. He lightly pressed his body against Angel's back. "Now," he whispered into Angel's ear. "Let it slide through your fingers just so."
Angel heard the ball 'clink' dropping into the whole. The ball was the last thing he wanted to concentrate on though. He was more interested in the man pressing his body against him.
"See there, you did it." Spike backed away. "I'm gonna go get us some drinks. You keep practicing."
"You don't know what I like."
"I've got a pretty good idea," Spike smirked.
~~~*~~~
Angel had tried to hit ball after ball but was coming up unsuccessful. Glancing over towards the bar, he saw Spike flirting with two women. 'Straight. Should have known.' When he saw Spike glance his way, he quickly turned away.
Spike made his way back to the table setting both drinks upon it. "Take a break. Sit."
Angel sat down, taking a long sip. The alcohol was warm and slid down his throat. "So, how old are you anyway?"
"Twenty-six. You?"
"Twenty-nine." He continued drinking until he reached the bottom of the glass. "So, did you know either one of the women you were talking to a moment ago?"
"Those chits? Hardly. Actually they wanted to know about you."
"What about me?"
"They wanted to know if you were fuckable."
Angel choked on his drink. "I uh.I think I should be going now. It's been a long day."
"I'll join you. Nothing more here to look forward to." 'Now that you're leaving.'
~~~*~~~
The trip back home was on the quiet side. As they got off the elevator, Angel turned around. "Look, you need to understand something. The thing back at the bar with the women..."
"You don't have to explain anything, mate."
"It's just they're not exactly my type." Angel started to slowly move backwards when he found Spike coming towards him.
Spike leaned his head to the side. "What exactly is your type?"
"We really shouldn't be having this conversation."
"Too late, we're having it. So, what is it?"
"Well.not women. I'm more into guys, I guess you could say." And then Angel heard the worst thing at that moment. Complete silence.
Spike studied him for a minute and then took one more step to him. Their bodies were lightly touching. "So, you're gay?"
"Yeah," Angel whispered.
Spike leaned his mouth to Angel's ear. "Lucky for me then. I'm not that much into women either." He could feel Angel's breath catch in his throat and smiled. "Good night, luv," he whispered, letting his lips brush against Angel's ear. Pulling away, he headed back to his apartment.
~Part: 8~
A week had passed since Spike had seen Angel. A week of waiting only to receive nothing. Every moment he wasn't focused on his song writing, his mind was focused on the other man. It drove Spike crazy. Glancing at the clock, he knew he needed to get ready for tonight. And he knew what he needed to do.
~~~*~~~
Angel was sitting in front of his easel, painting on the canvas. His mind drifting. Angel knew he was too shy to make the next move. It didn't stop him from thinking about Spike though. It didn't stop his body from responding to those thoughts. Continuing to paint, he lost himself in his work and lost track of time.
Hearing a knock on his door, Angel put down his paintbrush and glanced at the clock. He had been painting for at least an hour. "Just a minute," he called out. Walking over to the door, he pulled it open slowly but didn't see anyone. He stepped out into the hallway and looked to his left and his right, but it was also empty. Turning around to walk back into his apartment, he noticed the piece of paper on his door. Pulling it off, he read the handwriting on the front. 'Liam.' Closing the door behind him, Angel walked over to his couch and sat down.
'Who would send me a note?' With almost trembling hands, he opened the note carefully and read it to himself silently.
Angel,
It's been almost a week sinceI've seen you. I'm playing atthe club tonight if you want tosee me. I'd like you to come.
Until then,
Spike
Angel folded the note back up and placed it on the table in front of him. He stared at it as images entered his mind. Hopes of what could be ran through his body. Seconds later, he shook his head no, trying to push the thoughts of Spike to the back of his mind. 'He's probably just being casual, cause there's nothing going on with us. I've seen him once, no twice. Friends see each other more than that.' "That's settled," he mumbled to himself. "I'm not going."
Standing up, Angel started walking through the apartment, drifting about. "I should just sit down and paint. Get my mind off him." His mind was saying one thing, but his body was saying another. He glanced at the note on the table again. It seemed to call for him. Whispering to him. Who was he kidding? He wanted to see Spike again. He had wanted to see him all week. Now was his chance. Spike had taken the next move. Was Angel really gonna let the opportunity slip through his fingers?
He looked at the clock once more, figuring he had just enough time to change his clothes and make it to the club.
~~~*~~~
An hour later, Angel found himself walking into the club. Glancing around he noticed there were a lot of people. He suddenly wanted to leave. 'What if I misinterpreted the note? This could be just a friend thing. Just cause he's into guys doesn't mean he's into me.'
Angel was just about to leave when the lights went down and the spotlights were turned on. It was then when Angel remembered why he was here. Why he wanted to see Spike. To Angel, Spike was a vision.
~Part: 9~
Angel froze, staring at Spike while he was onstage. His eyes raked over Spike's body. He noticed that Spike had worn the leather pants again with a dark blue t-shirt. It was tight enough to show his body, probably revealing a hint of skin on his stomach if he stretched his arms enough. Angel felt drawn to him.
~~~*~~~
Spike glanced around the audience for Angel but couldn't see anyone yet. His eyes were still adjusting to the change of lights. He could see images, just couldn't make out actual people yet. Grabbing his guitar, he made his way to the microphone. Spike started with a slow song, getting a feel to performing in front of a crowd again. It was a rush to him. It was the one place he felt he belonged.
~~~*~~~
Angel continued to watch him. He couldn't leave now. He knew that Spike was becoming more and more comfortable on stage. You could tell from the way his fingers slid over the strings of the guitar and the way his mouth got just close enough to the microphone, but never too close. His body moved gracefully on stage. Angel realized this was a part of Spike.
~~~*~~~
Spike was onstage singing, glancing over the audience like he always did, when he saw him. Angel. Beautiful deep brown eyes staring right at him. One look sent a warmth throughout his body. Their eyes locked, but after a few moments, Spike let his eyes roam over the audience once again. In his mind he was only looking at Angel.
Angel knew they had made eye contact, but wasn't sure that Spike had actually recognized him. There were a lot of people in the audience. 'He's probably just looking at someone else.'
As Angel listened to the rest of the songs, he had a few drinks. But even the alcohol couldn't let him escape his feelings. He wanted Spike but didn't feel like he would ever become a part of his life. It seemed that they were so different. When the last song ended and the lights switched back to normal, Angel hugged his coat tightly around him and left the building, heading home.
After the lights switched, Spike saw Angel leaving. He frowned for a minute before putting on a fake smile for the crowd. About an hour later, he managed to leave the club heading straight for his apartment.
~~~*~~~
Angel was resting on his couch, staring at the piece of canvas he had been working on. He knew he shouldn't of left. Spike had invited him. But he had reasons for leaving.
Spike was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 'Why did he leave? Why couldn't he just stay?'
~Part: 10~
Spike woke up the next afternoon. He always enjoyed sleeping in after playing a gig. By the time he actually climbed out of the bed, it was close to dark. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he decided to go out just for a walk. Maybe even get a bite to eat. He needed to think about things. Grabbing his duster, he stepped outside of his door and ran into the one person that occupied his thoughts and dreams. Angel.
Angel froze when he saw Spike. He hadn't been able to push Spike out of his mind since they had met and especially since last night. "Hey," he said softly.
"Hey, luv." Spike noticed Angel was dressed up from head to toe.
'Say something.' "So, I uh.got your note yesterday."
"Yeah," Spike prompted. 'Why didn't you stay?'
"I'm sure you were great. I couldn't make it."
Spike knew it was a lie. "That right?" he asked with a lack of emotion in his voice.
"Well, I should get going," Angel said quickly.
"Mind if I come with you?" he asked casually.
"Yes! I um, I mind Spike."
"O-kay."
"It's just.my art. The exhibit. Well my art, it's personal to me." Angel felt with every word that he was ruining his chance with Spike even more. 'Did I even have a chance?' "I'll see you around.sometime."
Spike was hurt and confused. He didn't know why Angel didn't stay last night. Why it seemed like he couldn't get away from Spike fast enough every time they saw each other. He was interested in Angel and thought that Angel was into him. "Can count on it, pet," he mumbled after the elevator closed. "Sooner than you think."
~~~*~~~
Spike waited for a few minutes and then headed to the main floor. He knew the night guard would be standing outside. As he stepped outside, the guard noticed him immediately.
"Mr."
"William is fine, mate. I don't go much for the Mister thing. Did you see the man that just left this building? The one all dressed up?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know where he was headed?"
"I believe he has an art exhibit tonight, sir."
"Art exhibit," Spike repeated.
"Perhaps I should say show or gallery?"
"I get the idea. Probably the dress up kind of thing, huh?"
"Probably, sir."
"Do you know where it's being held?"
"I believe it's being held on Main Street, sir. Two blocks from here."
"Thanks for your help, mate." Spike turned around and stepped back inside. He suddenly felt the need to look at art.
~~~*~~~
Thirty minutes later, Spike had changed his clothes and was ready to leave. He was now wearing a pair of black dress pants with a blood red silk shirt. He left his duster in the apartment and grabbed his wallet. He hoped Angel would forgive him for this. Stepping outside of the apartment, he locked the door behind him and made his way to the elevator.