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danna7000, because her fb on the last chapter made me all giddy with glee. thanks for participating in fandom, honey. you're a thoughtful reader...by which I literally mean, "full of thoughts." *hugs*
Title: I Burn
Author: Mel (thatotherperv)
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: human AU. Spike is a pyromaniac, stalking a fire investigator named Angel. An improbable love story (to say the least).
Warnings: Angst, obviously, from the setup. D/s but not of the usual variety. It’s more…emotional D/s than lifestyle or kink (though there is *some* kink, there’s nothing extreme). Hard to explain, but you’ll see. characterization probably not to everyone's taste, but it all works out in the long run.
infinite thanks tokitty_poker1 for being my second pair of eyes, giving me advice on plot, characterization, and the occasional spelling error. *squishes her*
Note: I accept concrit. but if you have something to discuss with me in need of improvement or clarification, you should bring that concern to me in this post or in email at thatotherperv@livejournal.com. it just makes my life easier to have it in one place.
“You breathe…I burn.”
—Toadies
Previous chapters here
A/N: I should warn you that you're in for some schmoop in this chapter. and angst. it's angsty schmoop. or schmoopy angst. at any rate, they're getting along in a way that we all know can't last forever. ah, the honeymoon period. I know it well.
Chapter 5
When Will drifted slowly to consciousness, there was no confusion about where he was, or how he had spent the previous night.
He remembered all of it clearly. Every gesture.
What did confuse him was that he was waking up alone. He’d woken repeatedly throughout the night, every time Liam shifted. In sleep, there was nothing of Spike in Will…just poncy William. William was the one who had the dreams. Nightmares, really, but not the kind that woke you in a cold sweat—just ill ease and that ineffectual feeling of old, the helplessness of his life before….
But last night when he awoke, Liam was there next to him. And Liam understood…or he would, some day. They were the same, the two of them. And while he was a bit of a ponce for Liam, there was nothing helpless about it, so he had drifted back into a dreamless rest.
Now he was by himself, legs tangled into sheets that smelled like them. And he felt a stab of uncertainty—not that it was real, but about whether or not he was still wanted. The errant thought that he was meant to let himself out churned his stomach.
When he heard clattering in the kitchen, he understood with relief both why he was alone and what had woken him from the best sleep of his life. He tugged on his jeans and wandered into the living room, trying to smooth down his unruly hair.
Liam’s attention was drawn by the opening of the bedroom door, and he smiled over his shoulder. Fuck, but he was beautiful…bare skin and hard-earned muscle and a broad back. He had a tattoo. Will hadn’t known. His tongue was all tangled.
“Morning.”
With that greeting, his attention was drawn unfortunately to a ticking clock. “Bloody hell! You’re a morning person.”
Liam flashed a smile at the disgust in his voice. “Yeah. Have to be, but I always have been. My grandparents have a small cattle operation north of here. Spent the first half of my life getting yanked out of bed with the sun.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Were you?”
“I was. Country boy, born and bred.”
He had known that, of course. Made it his job to know. “I never would have guessed.”
An unreadable look was slanted back over Liam’s shoulder before he turned back to the stove. “Yeah, well, I always wanted to be city. See how the other half lived. Get the hell out of there.”
Liam fell silent. A little awkward, Will wandered over to sit on the living room side of the kitchen bar. Warmth bloomed when Liam put the cooking aside and snagged him across the counter for a kiss.
“Morning,” he repeated, face still close.
“Mmm.” Will made a self-deprecating face at the fuzzy taste of his own mouth. “Be a better one for you if I had a toothbrush, I reckon.”
Liam didn’t pull back. His eyes were hungry as they appraised Will’s face. “Don’t think so.”
His heart thudded. “Got some weird kinks, pet,” he managed.
Liam grinned again and cuffed him as he pulled away. The knot in Will’s belly slowly eased, the tense of his shoulders releasing.
They sat down to breakfast at an honest-to-god table on honest-to-god plates. The silverware wasn’t plastic. The food was good. For the first time, Will looked around the apartment.
It wasn’t spotless, but it was clear that Liam owned cleaning products and knew how to use them. And it had obviously been decorated, not just furnished, in a way that fell charmingly somewhere between urban chic and country kitsch.
Will began to snicker.
“What?”
“Nothin’. Just thought you’d be the butch one, is all. You’re a regular domestic, aren’t you, luv?”
To his delight, Liam blushed, then frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with…. The world’s top chefs are all men, you know.”
Spike nodded in an exaggeratedly patronizing fashion. He gave a significant pause. “You’d look fetching in an apron,” he offered.
Liam scowled. Too easy. “Last time I feed you.”
“Aww, don’t be that way, Peaches.” When Liam’s eyes rounded, Spike barely withheld a snicker, grin widening. His hands smoothed up over the denim on his thighs, thrusting his hips up subtly as he slouched. “Sure we could work out a fair trade.”
Now-sleepy eyes roamed greedily over his torso and crotch. “And what’s that.”
“Easier to give a demonstration.”
Their eyes held for a moment, and then Spike slid smoothly to his knees, bridging the gap at a crawl, heart pounding when Liam’s breath grew ragged. And when a fist closed loosely in his hair to tug him forward, warmth throbbed low in his belly. Liam’s eyelids slid closed with a small moan when Spike nipped at the taut skin along his waistband, and he slid deeper into his seat, cock thrusting up as he arched.
He watched lazily as Spike unfastened soft denim and wrapped his hand around a thick cock that literally made his mouth water. Fingers massaged his scalp as he wrapped his lips around the head and slowly descended, eyes closed, swallowing until he was greeted with a broken moan.
How many times had he done this? Too many, some would argue. But it had always been a matter of survival or loneliness, never this. Reverence and pleasure. A large hand massaged his neck urgently as he intensified the attention. Intent, not luxury. Another carded his hair back from his face with something like affection, and everything in him lurched forward. He hollowed his cheeks and pressed up with his tongue.
Liam moaned, head rolling back, voice husky and broken. “Fuck. That’s good, boy.”
Will warmed, cock throbbing at the name. He’d been called so many things while he was on his knees—slut and whore and freak. Even boy…dirty old men and sick, twisted fantasies. This bore no resemblance to that. The word sounded different in Liam’s mouth. And when Liam’s fingers threaded tighter into his curls and his hips flexed upwards desperately, it was nothing like the old skull-fuckings that had left him sore and bitter.
When Liam came, Will swallowed without hesitation.
That same fist hauled him to his feet and he was kissed eagerly, tongue pulsing into his mouth, chasing the musky flavor as a warm palm tugged him forward to brace his knees on the sliver of chair on either side of Liam’s hips. His jeans were opened and Liam’s teeth and lips latched over one nipple as he began jacking Will’s cock with a grateful fervor that had Will on edge immediately.
He barely bit back on the urge to cry out Liam’s name, which he wasn’t meant to know, grateful instead of embarrassed for the strangled sound that came from his own throat. His fingers bit into Liam’s shoulder and scalp, teeth digging into his own lip as he thrust up into the big palm, hanging on until Liam squeezed one tense cheek, long middle finger finding Will’s pucker and pressing until the very tip popped through the still-sore muscle.
Will whimpered and came.
He was dimly aware, after, of a tongue tracing along the stripe of come on his own chest. His cock gave an exhausted, pitiful twitch. He was manhandled against Liam’s lap and snogged, grateful when he was gathered close, face pressed into the earthy-smelling crook of a shoulder.
Saved him from looking pathetic when he adopted the position on his own.
Eventually, Will’s breathing evened out to normal. He cringed as their bellies squished together slickly.
“Christ. We are utterly disgusting,” he muttered.
Liam grunted sleepily. “We’ll shower.”
Spike felt a surge of renewed interest in being awake.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Will was sprawled on top of Liam’s body, which was lax and sweaty as his own. They’d gotten clean and then very dirty again, several times over. Hadn’t gotten out of bed in more than 24 hours, and now it was late once again. They were done. For the moment.
Neither of them was exactly seventeen these days.
He inhaled discreetly under the guise of scratching his nose against Liam’s chest. Liam smelled good like this. Reeking of sex with him. He allowed himself a smug grin at the knowledge.
He settled back into place. They weren’t…snuggling, precisely. Sometimes a man just wanted to lay where he fell, after riding another man to—
“So…you grew up in London?”
Will was disoriented by the statement until he remembered his nervous rambling in the convenience store that day. Yanks didn’t usually place him by accent. Especially the ones down south. “I did.”
Sure fingers stroked down his spine. He wanted to curl up against them like a cat. “How’d you end up here?”
“Mmm. Immigrated when I turned 18. Wanted to come earlier, but I wasn’t able until I’d reached legal age.”
“Your parents weren’t interested in the States?”
He hesitated. “My mum had already passed on. Never knew my dad.”
A palm cupped the back of his head, fingers scratching along his scalp. “I’m sorry.”
His voice was uncomfortably rough. He reminded himself that Liam’s life had been no easier than his own…he had no reason to be ashamed. “Don’t be, luv. She offed herself, so it must have been what she wanted.”
Liam’s hand stilled for a moment before it resumed its easy roaming pattern. “How old?”
“Dunno, pet, but she had me young, so she musta been—”
Liam interrupted his deliberate misinterpretation. “How old were you?”
His exhalation came as an unintentional sigh. “Bout a week shy of my sixteenth birthday.”
When Liam cupped his cheek and turned his face up for a kiss, Will’s eyes stung. He was grateful for the opportunity to turn away a moment later.
There was a length of heavy, expectant dead air. “What…. I mean, why….”
“She was just tired of scraping the bottom, I imagine. Nothin’ left to live for.”
His chest, already tight with old pain, tightened further at gentle words. “She had you.”
“Never was something to live for, to her.”
The silence that followed was awkward, and long enough to make Will uneasy. Then Liam offered: “I never knew my dad either.”
He pretended surprise at the commonality. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. According to my grandparents, he wasn’t a great guy. Violent drunk, used to run around on my mom…. She didn’t get her act together until he left, I guess. My step-dad was a nice guy, though.”
Will debated the merits of pushing further or letting it lie…but in the end, he was selfish. Greedy. Wanted as much of Liam as he’d given of himself. More. “Still close with them, then?”
The silence was prolongued. “No. They passed on. There was a car accident.” A deep breath deflated him, and Will looked up. “Both of them…and my brother. And my three sisters.”
“I’m sorry, pet.”
Liam shrugged it off, looking away. “I was out at the ranch, or I’d have been with them. On our way out to dinner.”
“How old were you?”
“I was twenty. My brother was older…Mom never did loosen the apron strings.”
His voice sounded tight, the little laugh fake, and then they rolled, big bulk settling on top of Will. The weight was comforting. His fingers played a gentle scratching pattern at the base of Liam’s skull.
“What did they call you? Your mum…your family.”
There was a lengthy hesitation. “Liam.”
Will traced over the ‘A’ scripted on Liam’s shoulder. “Good to meet you, Liam.”
Liam squeezed him tight, burying his face against Will’s skin. It should have been uncomfortable, but that’s how they drifted to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~
“So how did you hear about Houston?”
It was one long conversation, interrupted only by vigorous shagging and the occasional meal. Will followed along immediately. “Didn’t, really. Lived in New York for a while, but it was too much like my life in London. Bought a car and traveled around…lived in the thing. She was a beauty, but she was a piece of crap under the hood, and I was coming along 10 from a wicked month of drinking New Orleans dry, thinking how lucky I was that she hadn’t gotten stolen there—and she just died.”
He felt a pang of mourning for the enormous black classic.
“Bloody loved that car. Guess she picked this place for me.”
Then I saw you. On the news, all buttoned up and handsome. Couldn’t leave. Had to have you, whatever it took.
continued
danna7000, because her fb on the last chapter made me all giddy with glee. thanks for participating in fandom, honey. you're a thoughtful reader...by which I literally mean, "full of thoughts." *hugs*Title: I Burn
Author: Mel (
thatotherperv)Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: human AU. Spike is a pyromaniac, stalking a fire investigator named Angel. An improbable love story (to say the least).
Warnings: Angst, obviously, from the setup. D/s but not of the usual variety. It’s more…emotional D/s than lifestyle or kink (though there is *some* kink, there’s nothing extreme). Hard to explain, but you’ll see. characterization probably not to everyone's taste, but it all works out in the long run.
infinite thanks to
kitty_poker1 for being my second pair of eyes, giving me advice on plot, characterization, and the occasional spelling error. *squishes her*Note: I accept concrit. but if you have something to discuss with me in need of improvement or clarification, you should bring that concern to me in this post or in email at thatotherperv@livejournal.com. it just makes my life easier to have it in one place.
“You breathe…I burn.”
—Toadies
Previous chapters here
A/N: I should warn you that you're in for some schmoop in this chapter. and angst. it's angsty schmoop. or schmoopy angst. at any rate, they're getting along in a way that we all know can't last forever. ah, the honeymoon period. I know it well.
Chapter 5
When Will drifted slowly to consciousness, there was no confusion about where he was, or how he had spent the previous night.
He remembered all of it clearly. Every gesture.
What did confuse him was that he was waking up alone. He’d woken repeatedly throughout the night, every time Liam shifted. In sleep, there was nothing of Spike in Will…just poncy William. William was the one who had the dreams. Nightmares, really, but not the kind that woke you in a cold sweat—just ill ease and that ineffectual feeling of old, the helplessness of his life before….
But last night when he awoke, Liam was there next to him. And Liam understood…or he would, some day. They were the same, the two of them. And while he was a bit of a ponce for Liam, there was nothing helpless about it, so he had drifted back into a dreamless rest.
Now he was by himself, legs tangled into sheets that smelled like them. And he felt a stab of uncertainty—not that it was real, but about whether or not he was still wanted. The errant thought that he was meant to let himself out churned his stomach.
When he heard clattering in the kitchen, he understood with relief both why he was alone and what had woken him from the best sleep of his life. He tugged on his jeans and wandered into the living room, trying to smooth down his unruly hair.
Liam’s attention was drawn by the opening of the bedroom door, and he smiled over his shoulder. Fuck, but he was beautiful…bare skin and hard-earned muscle and a broad back. He had a tattoo. Will hadn’t known. His tongue was all tangled.
“Morning.”
With that greeting, his attention was drawn unfortunately to a ticking clock. “Bloody hell! You’re a morning person.”
Liam flashed a smile at the disgust in his voice. “Yeah. Have to be, but I always have been. My grandparents have a small cattle operation north of here. Spent the first half of my life getting yanked out of bed with the sun.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Were you?”
“I was. Country boy, born and bred.”
He had known that, of course. Made it his job to know. “I never would have guessed.”
An unreadable look was slanted back over Liam’s shoulder before he turned back to the stove. “Yeah, well, I always wanted to be city. See how the other half lived. Get the hell out of there.”
Liam fell silent. A little awkward, Will wandered over to sit on the living room side of the kitchen bar. Warmth bloomed when Liam put the cooking aside and snagged him across the counter for a kiss.
“Morning,” he repeated, face still close.
“Mmm.” Will made a self-deprecating face at the fuzzy taste of his own mouth. “Be a better one for you if I had a toothbrush, I reckon.”
Liam didn’t pull back. His eyes were hungry as they appraised Will’s face. “Don’t think so.”
His heart thudded. “Got some weird kinks, pet,” he managed.
Liam grinned again and cuffed him as he pulled away. The knot in Will’s belly slowly eased, the tense of his shoulders releasing.
They sat down to breakfast at an honest-to-god table on honest-to-god plates. The silverware wasn’t plastic. The food was good. For the first time, Will looked around the apartment.
It wasn’t spotless, but it was clear that Liam owned cleaning products and knew how to use them. And it had obviously been decorated, not just furnished, in a way that fell charmingly somewhere between urban chic and country kitsch.
Will began to snicker.
“What?”
“Nothin’. Just thought you’d be the butch one, is all. You’re a regular domestic, aren’t you, luv?”
To his delight, Liam blushed, then frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with…. The world’s top chefs are all men, you know.”
Spike nodded in an exaggeratedly patronizing fashion. He gave a significant pause. “You’d look fetching in an apron,” he offered.
Liam scowled. Too easy. “Last time I feed you.”
“Aww, don’t be that way, Peaches.” When Liam’s eyes rounded, Spike barely withheld a snicker, grin widening. His hands smoothed up over the denim on his thighs, thrusting his hips up subtly as he slouched. “Sure we could work out a fair trade.”
Now-sleepy eyes roamed greedily over his torso and crotch. “And what’s that.”
“Easier to give a demonstration.”
Their eyes held for a moment, and then Spike slid smoothly to his knees, bridging the gap at a crawl, heart pounding when Liam’s breath grew ragged. And when a fist closed loosely in his hair to tug him forward, warmth throbbed low in his belly. Liam’s eyelids slid closed with a small moan when Spike nipped at the taut skin along his waistband, and he slid deeper into his seat, cock thrusting up as he arched.
He watched lazily as Spike unfastened soft denim and wrapped his hand around a thick cock that literally made his mouth water. Fingers massaged his scalp as he wrapped his lips around the head and slowly descended, eyes closed, swallowing until he was greeted with a broken moan.
How many times had he done this? Too many, some would argue. But it had always been a matter of survival or loneliness, never this. Reverence and pleasure. A large hand massaged his neck urgently as he intensified the attention. Intent, not luxury. Another carded his hair back from his face with something like affection, and everything in him lurched forward. He hollowed his cheeks and pressed up with his tongue.
Liam moaned, head rolling back, voice husky and broken. “Fuck. That’s good, boy.”
Will warmed, cock throbbing at the name. He’d been called so many things while he was on his knees—slut and whore and freak. Even boy…dirty old men and sick, twisted fantasies. This bore no resemblance to that. The word sounded different in Liam’s mouth. And when Liam’s fingers threaded tighter into his curls and his hips flexed upwards desperately, it was nothing like the old skull-fuckings that had left him sore and bitter.
When Liam came, Will swallowed without hesitation.
That same fist hauled him to his feet and he was kissed eagerly, tongue pulsing into his mouth, chasing the musky flavor as a warm palm tugged him forward to brace his knees on the sliver of chair on either side of Liam’s hips. His jeans were opened and Liam’s teeth and lips latched over one nipple as he began jacking Will’s cock with a grateful fervor that had Will on edge immediately.
He barely bit back on the urge to cry out Liam’s name, which he wasn’t meant to know, grateful instead of embarrassed for the strangled sound that came from his own throat. His fingers bit into Liam’s shoulder and scalp, teeth digging into his own lip as he thrust up into the big palm, hanging on until Liam squeezed one tense cheek, long middle finger finding Will’s pucker and pressing until the very tip popped through the still-sore muscle.
Will whimpered and came.
He was dimly aware, after, of a tongue tracing along the stripe of come on his own chest. His cock gave an exhausted, pitiful twitch. He was manhandled against Liam’s lap and snogged, grateful when he was gathered close, face pressed into the earthy-smelling crook of a shoulder.
Saved him from looking pathetic when he adopted the position on his own.
Eventually, Will’s breathing evened out to normal. He cringed as their bellies squished together slickly.
“Christ. We are utterly disgusting,” he muttered.
Liam grunted sleepily. “We’ll shower.”
Spike felt a surge of renewed interest in being awake.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Will was sprawled on top of Liam’s body, which was lax and sweaty as his own. They’d gotten clean and then very dirty again, several times over. Hadn’t gotten out of bed in more than 24 hours, and now it was late once again. They were done. For the moment.
Neither of them was exactly seventeen these days.
He inhaled discreetly under the guise of scratching his nose against Liam’s chest. Liam smelled good like this. Reeking of sex with him. He allowed himself a smug grin at the knowledge.
He settled back into place. They weren’t…snuggling, precisely. Sometimes a man just wanted to lay where he fell, after riding another man to—
“So…you grew up in London?”
Will was disoriented by the statement until he remembered his nervous rambling in the convenience store that day. Yanks didn’t usually place him by accent. Especially the ones down south. “I did.”
Sure fingers stroked down his spine. He wanted to curl up against them like a cat. “How’d you end up here?”
“Mmm. Immigrated when I turned 18. Wanted to come earlier, but I wasn’t able until I’d reached legal age.”
“Your parents weren’t interested in the States?”
He hesitated. “My mum had already passed on. Never knew my dad.”
A palm cupped the back of his head, fingers scratching along his scalp. “I’m sorry.”
His voice was uncomfortably rough. He reminded himself that Liam’s life had been no easier than his own…he had no reason to be ashamed. “Don’t be, luv. She offed herself, so it must have been what she wanted.”
Liam’s hand stilled for a moment before it resumed its easy roaming pattern. “How old?”
“Dunno, pet, but she had me young, so she musta been—”
Liam interrupted his deliberate misinterpretation. “How old were you?”
His exhalation came as an unintentional sigh. “Bout a week shy of my sixteenth birthday.”
When Liam cupped his cheek and turned his face up for a kiss, Will’s eyes stung. He was grateful for the opportunity to turn away a moment later.
There was a length of heavy, expectant dead air. “What…. I mean, why….”
“She was just tired of scraping the bottom, I imagine. Nothin’ left to live for.”
His chest, already tight with old pain, tightened further at gentle words. “She had you.”
“Never was something to live for, to her.”
The silence that followed was awkward, and long enough to make Will uneasy. Then Liam offered: “I never knew my dad either.”
He pretended surprise at the commonality. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. According to my grandparents, he wasn’t a great guy. Violent drunk, used to run around on my mom…. She didn’t get her act together until he left, I guess. My step-dad was a nice guy, though.”
Will debated the merits of pushing further or letting it lie…but in the end, he was selfish. Greedy. Wanted as much of Liam as he’d given of himself. More. “Still close with them, then?”
The silence was prolongued. “No. They passed on. There was a car accident.” A deep breath deflated him, and Will looked up. “Both of them…and my brother. And my three sisters.”
“I’m sorry, pet.”
Liam shrugged it off, looking away. “I was out at the ranch, or I’d have been with them. On our way out to dinner.”
“How old were you?”
“I was twenty. My brother was older…Mom never did loosen the apron strings.”
His voice sounded tight, the little laugh fake, and then they rolled, big bulk settling on top of Will. The weight was comforting. His fingers played a gentle scratching pattern at the base of Liam’s skull.
“What did they call you? Your mum…your family.”
There was a lengthy hesitation. “Liam.”
Will traced over the ‘A’ scripted on Liam’s shoulder. “Good to meet you, Liam.”
Liam squeezed him tight, burying his face against Will’s skin. It should have been uncomfortable, but that’s how they drifted to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~
“So how did you hear about Houston?”
It was one long conversation, interrupted only by vigorous shagging and the occasional meal. Will followed along immediately. “Didn’t, really. Lived in New York for a while, but it was too much like my life in London. Bought a car and traveled around…lived in the thing. She was a beauty, but she was a piece of crap under the hood, and I was coming along 10 from a wicked month of drinking New Orleans dry, thinking how lucky I was that she hadn’t gotten stolen there—and she just died.”
He felt a pang of mourning for the enormous black classic.
“Bloody loved that car. Guess she picked this place for me.”
Then I saw you. On the news, all buttoned up and handsome. Couldn’t leave. Had to have you, whatever it took.
continued
