Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: PG
Warnings: It's girly and schmoopy. But on the bright side, very short.
Notes: Unbeta'd.
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Spike wonders when to tell Angel that he loves him.
It never seems the right time and sometimes he desperately wishes that he might never have to say the words. But he's too full with them, love makes his guts twist and ache and the words rolls around in his mouth until he feels he'll surely choke on them. He wonders if the telling is more from self-preservation than anything else.
It's always been this way, his relationship with love. He was never naive enough not to know what would surely be the reaction of Cecily and Buffy to his clumsy heartfelt declarations. Being beneath them leant him time enough to gaze up and study them while they sat on their pedestals, after all. But the barest sliver of hope can lead a man happily to the gallows.
He questions if he should tell Angel during sex, to gasp out between moans what he has kept so diligently locked away. But it just seems so...crude, and he turns his nose up at the idea. He doesn't want to despoil this first time declaration between their sweat soaked bodies and twisted sheets. Angel probably wouldn't hear him through the grunts and his furrowed brow concentration anyway.
They play a weekly game of chess now, running into long nights and early mornings, going through a bottle of scotch and a lifetime of conversations. He could tell him then. But this is where a real friendship tentatively blossomed and Spike treasures this too much to risk unbalancing it. His loneliness has made him trigger shy. After all, with this friend he doesn't have to eat cats and watch Freddie Prinze Jr movies.
He still misses them.
Could he possibly woo him? Take him out in a car, pass him booze and serenade him with punk? And perhaps not.
Spike goes back to ruminating on the words that roll about his mouth, like fine wine washed about the palate that he fears will turn to vinegar given time. He throws warning looks and barbs at Wesley who in turn looks on in knowing amusement. Especially now that Spike will no longer call him Head Boy. Can't give Angel any inappropriate thoughts, mind.
So it's rather unfortunate that during a conversation on cars, which fuel injection capabilities are best, that when Spike goes to say the words, 'catalytic converter', they become jumbled up with the ones that he's kept so well concealed and they tumble out one-by-one. I love you.
The conversation slams on its brakes and grinds to a shrieking holt and he wants to frantically cram the words back where they belong, in his mouth and silent.
Angel clears his throat nervously to proclaim...'Oh'. But it's the kiss that he pulls Spike into that speaks loudest of all. It's in the kiss that Spike discovers that Angel has words that have been left unsaid as well.
Spike's got time enough to wait.
The End