On the Other Side
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,093
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,093
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Short, bleached hair harshly slicked back against his skull? Check.
Faded black tee clinging to his chest? Check.
Ass-hugging black Levi’s with a hole in the left knee? Check.
Ratty, scuffed, steel-toed Doc Martens? Check.
Chipped, black varnish on his nails? Check.
Smoldering cigarette hanging from his lips? Check.
He was ready. Spike was ready.
He flung the front door open, ready to surprise his father and brother with his new look. They weren’t in the entryway or the living room. His shoulders sagged; they’d missed his grand entrance. Shakinf thf the disappointment, he sauntered into the kitchen, where he could plainly hear voices. Both men became silent when he entered the room.
“William, what on earth have you done?”
“Whoa, that’s a new look for you.”
Pursing his lips, Spike stubbed his cigarette out on the counter.
“Thought it was time for a change.” He hopped up onto a barstool, drumming on the counter with his fingers. “And the name’s Spike, not William.”
His father put down the mail he’d been reading, crossing his arms. “Honestly, William…”
“Spike.”
The older man removed his glasses, wiping them on his sweater before returning them to his face. “William. You look silly. Now go on and change your clothes. There’s not much we can do about the hair, but at least it’ll grow. And for god’s sake, take off that nail varnish!”
Spike stood, mimicking his father’s stance. “I happen to like the way I look. If you don’t, just don’t look at me. It’s not as if that’ll be a stretch for you.” Turning on his heel, he strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs. One softly spoken word stopped him.
“Will?”
“Sp…” He turned, and was about to correct the boy, but his stomach contracted and something in his chest tightened at the stricken look in those brown eyes. Maybe William wasn’t completely dead, after all.
“Yeah.” He gave his brother a shy smile, delighted when Xander grinned and bounced toward him. The boy ran a hand over Spike’s head, smoothing the gelled strands. A flush stole over Xander’s face and he bit his lip.
“I kinda like your hair.”
Spike grinned at the boy, giving him a one-armed hug before turning towards his room.
Later that evening, when Rupert Giles entered his bedroom, Spike was propped against the wall next to the window, idly staring at the cars passing by outside.
“Now, is this the proper way to greet your Daddy? I think not. I had thought you’d learned all of this, but we’ll go through it all again if you insist.”
Spike calmly turned his head towards the older man, pushing off the wall and walking to meet his dad in the middle of the room. “Well, you see, Pops, I figure some things are gonna change around here. First of all…”
He was thrown across the room before he could finish, his father storming across the floor to stand over him. Spike slowly pulled himself from the floor, never breaking eye contact with the older man. He caught the fist flying towards his face mid-air and held it there, a smirk settling over his features.
He continued, his voice low and gravelly with an emotion too large, too wild to name. “First of all, Rupert, I’m not scared of you anymore, and I’ll not be your whimpering substitute wife any longer. Also, you’re not my father; your son is dead, so there’ll be no more of that ‘daddy’ shit. Now, I’d leave in a heartbeat if it were up to me but, occasionally, you sober up long enough to be decent and those moments mean the world to Xander. Since I won’t leave him here to put up with you alone, it looks like I’m staying.”
He released Rupert’s fist and reached into his pocket, retrieving a cigarette and a lighter. He lit it, taking a draw before continuing. “Now, I’m supposing we’ll have to come to some arrangement. I’ll…”
“No smoking in the house.”
Spike contemplated the older man’s features, tilting his head and blowing a stream of smoke into Rupert’s increasingly shocked face. He dropped the cigarette onto the rug, grinding it in with the toe of his boot.
“Fair enough.” The two men eyed each other until he continued. “Now, you can deal with me as you please; we can continue with this,” He gestured towards the bed, “or not. Doesn’t matter to me. But you’d be mak make damn sure you never call me by her name again. The name’s Spike, and you’d do well to remember it.” He stepped closer, his face inches from the other man’s. His hand shot out and grabbed Rupert’s cock through his trousers, holding it a bit more firmly than was comfortable. “And if Xander ever, ever has to deal with this, I’ll cut it clean off while you’re sleeping.” He removed his hand and backed up a few paces. “Are we agreed?”
“All right, William, if that’s the way you want it, I’ll not argue with you. Now, are we through chatting? I’d like to get to sleep sometime soon.”
Spike thought about arguing over the use of his dead alter-ego’s name, but he was afraid that was one point of control his father would never give over. He nodded.
“Good. Now strip, slowly, so I can watch. In fact, I think it best if you wait for me clothed from now on.”
Spike stripped slowly, as requested; only losing eye contact with the older man when his T-shirt was removed.
“Now…on the bed, facing the wall…and grab the headboard.”
Short, bleached hair harshly slicked back against his skull? Check.
Faded black tee clinging to his chest? Check.
Ass-hugging black Levi’s with a hole in the left knee? Check.
Ratty, scuffed, steel-toed Doc Martens? Check.
Chipped, black varnish on his nails? Check.
Smoldering cigarette hanging from his lips? Check.
He was ready. Spike was ready.
He flung the front door open, ready to surprise his father and brother with his new look. They weren’t in the entryway or the living room. His shoulders sagged; they’d missed his grand entrance. Shakinf thf the disappointment, he sauntered into the kitchen, where he could plainly hear voices. Both men became silent when he entered the room.
“William, what on earth have you done?”
“Whoa, that’s a new look for you.”
Pursing his lips, Spike stubbed his cigarette out on the counter.
“Thought it was time for a change.” He hopped up onto a barstool, drumming on the counter with his fingers. “And the name’s Spike, not William.”
His father put down the mail he’d been reading, crossing his arms. “Honestly, William…”
“Spike.”
The older man removed his glasses, wiping them on his sweater before returning them to his face. “William. You look silly. Now go on and change your clothes. There’s not much we can do about the hair, but at least it’ll grow. And for god’s sake, take off that nail varnish!”
Spike stood, mimicking his father’s stance. “I happen to like the way I look. If you don’t, just don’t look at me. It’s not as if that’ll be a stretch for you.” Turning on his heel, he strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs. One softly spoken word stopped him.
“Will?”
“Sp…” He turned, and was about to correct the boy, but his stomach contracted and something in his chest tightened at the stricken look in those brown eyes. Maybe William wasn’t completely dead, after all.
“Yeah.” He gave his brother a shy smile, delighted when Xander grinned and bounced toward him. The boy ran a hand over Spike’s head, smoothing the gelled strands. A flush stole over Xander’s face and he bit his lip.
“I kinda like your hair.”
Spike grinned at the boy, giving him a one-armed hug before turning towards his room.
Later that evening, when Rupert Giles entered his bedroom, Spike was propped against the wall next to the window, idly staring at the cars passing by outside.
“Now, is this the proper way to greet your Daddy? I think not. I had thought you’d learned all of this, but we’ll go through it all again if you insist.”
Spike calmly turned his head towards the older man, pushing off the wall and walking to meet his dad in the middle of the room. “Well, you see, Pops, I figure some things are gonna change around here. First of all…”
He was thrown across the room before he could finish, his father storming across the floor to stand over him. Spike slowly pulled himself from the floor, never breaking eye contact with the older man. He caught the fist flying towards his face mid-air and held it there, a smirk settling over his features.
He continued, his voice low and gravelly with an emotion too large, too wild to name. “First of all, Rupert, I’m not scared of you anymore, and I’ll not be your whimpering substitute wife any longer. Also, you’re not my father; your son is dead, so there’ll be no more of that ‘daddy’ shit. Now, I’d leave in a heartbeat if it were up to me but, occasionally, you sober up long enough to be decent and those moments mean the world to Xander. Since I won’t leave him here to put up with you alone, it looks like I’m staying.”
He released Rupert’s fist and reached into his pocket, retrieving a cigarette and a lighter. He lit it, taking a draw before continuing. “Now, I’m supposing we’ll have to come to some arrangement. I’ll…”
“No smoking in the house.”
Spike contemplated the older man’s features, tilting his head and blowing a stream of smoke into Rupert’s increasingly shocked face. He dropped the cigarette onto the rug, grinding it in with the toe of his boot.
“Fair enough.” The two men eyed each other until he continued. “Now, you can deal with me as you please; we can continue with this,” He gestured towards the bed, “or not. Doesn’t matter to me. But you’d be mak make damn sure you never call me by her name again. The name’s Spike, and you’d do well to remember it.” He stepped closer, his face inches from the other man’s. His hand shot out and grabbed Rupert’s cock through his trousers, holding it a bit more firmly than was comfortable. “And if Xander ever, ever has to deal with this, I’ll cut it clean off while you’re sleeping.” He removed his hand and backed up a few paces. “Are we agreed?”
“All right, William, if that’s the way you want it, I’ll not argue with you. Now, are we through chatting? I’d like to get to sleep sometime soon.”
Spike thought about arguing over the use of his dead alter-ego’s name, but he was afraid that was one point of control his father would never give over. He nodded.
“Good. Now strip, slowly, so I can watch. In fact, I think it best if you wait for me clothed from now on.”
Spike stripped slowly, as requested; only losing eye contact with the older man when his T-shirt was removed.
“Now…on the bed, facing the wall…and grab the headboard.”