On the Other Side
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,098
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,098
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 19
Chapter 19
Spike was staring at the secretary, who was typing away behind the desk, rummaging through papers and muttering to herself. During the three hours he’d been sitting there, she’d dropped her pencil twice, lost three files, and had to reboot her computer. He smirked in amusement; she obviously didn’t get the job for her typing skills. He was leaning forward to say something when a hand came from behind him and clamped around his throat.
The grip was tight, and Spike found himself having difficulty breathing. Hot breath caressed his neck as the figure behind him leaned forward, whispering in his ear. “One word from you, and the already considerable amount of trouble you are in will be multiplied greatly when we return home.”
Spike managed half a nod, then slumped back into the chair as he was released and his father walked to the desk. He half-listened as Rupert spoke to the officer, more concerned with the secretary, who winked at him then leaned over the desk, giving Spike quite a view of her cleavage. He smirked at her, but the expression fell from his face as his arm was grabbed and he was pulled from the chair.
The drive home was made in silence.
************
Spike winced as the rough denim of his jeans rubbed against his backside; perhaps throwing out all his underwear hadn’t been such a great idea. He shifted in his seat, trying to get somewhere resembling comfortable, before sighing loudly.
Wesley grimaced in sympathy; he wasn’t feeling too comfy himself. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak hesitantly. “I-I’m sorry.”
Spike raised a brow in question. “And what exactly do you have to be sorry for?”
“Well, it’s just that I-I know it’s rather painful, a-and I’m sorry you have to, you know, deal with it.” Unable to keep eye contact, Wesley glanced down, then turned to stare out the De Soto’s passenger window.
Brow furrowed, Spike tilted his head, studying the older boy. He reached across the console, awkwardly patting the brunet’s shoulder. “Wes...?” His friend jumped at the touch and, curious, Spike hooked a finger into the back of Wesley’s collar, pulling it down gently and revealing harsh red stripes that he was certain matched his own. He sucked in a harsh breath, and something lodged in his throat. “Wes, I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to cause you trouble…”
“N-No! You didn’t cause this…it’s not the first time it’s happened, and probably won’t be the last. Not that… You see, it’s just that I’m terribly clumsy, and well...it’s not his fault that I…”
Wesley’s voice continued as Spike sank into his own thoughts. Someone else had a shitty father? Spike was a little shamed at the amount of comfort he felt at that thought. He looked up, only to discover Wesley studying him silently.
“Wes?”
The other boy nodded, indicating for Spike to continue.
“Has your dad ever…touched you, or…” He didn’t finish his question, as his eyes darted, unbidden, towards Wesley’s groin. When he glanced back up, the other boy’s eyes were wide with shock.
“Of course not! I mean…No…Not…I…No!”
Spike forced himself to grin. “Me either. I mean, I was just wondering, that’s all.” His eyes filled with tears, and he turned his head towards the window, attempting to control his emotions. He turned back around, rearing back in shock at the face inches from his own.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
In the low lighting Wesley’s eyes were dark and glittering, his breath coming out in warm puffs against Spike’s skin.
“Wes, I…” He was interrupted, as the brunet moved closer.
“Shhh…” Wesley was just a breath away, when the hand he’d braced himself with slipped off the steering wheel and his elbow smashed against the horn, which blasted loudly into the night. Startled, both boys jerked back into their seats, turning toward each other and promptly bursting into giggles.
As the laughter tapered off, however, Spike found himself inexplicably drawn toward the other boy. Slowly they moved toward each other, heartbeats thudding heavily in their ears, breaths short and uneven. They met over the console, lips awkwardly brushing against each other. When Wesley’s lips parted, Spike tentatively slid his tongue into his friend’s mouth, groaning at the sensation.
As the kiss grew in intensity, Spike’s hands moved up to rest against Wesley’s chest, pushing him back and climbing over the console to straddle the brunet’s lap. The new position changed the angle of Wesley’s head, and as Spike’s tongue explored his mouth he gripped the blond’s thighs, kneading the flesh in pleasure. Spike smoothed trembling hands over the brunet’s chest, and Wesley moved his to the blond’s hips, pulling their groins together. They both whimpered at the contact.
Spike had forgotten something, his mind was sure of it, but the feel of Wesley’s hands, the taste of Wesley’s mouth were simply too strong stimuli to keep thinking. When the older boy bucked up against Spike’s erection, his brain gave up completely.
Spike’s mouth slipped off Wesley’s and he trailed wet kisses down an arched neck as his hands found their way under Wesley’s shirt. Needing to feel flesh as well, the brunet slid his hands around Spike’s back and under his shirt, completely forgetting about the blond’s injuries.
At the feel of Wesley’s hands gripping the sensitive welts on his back, Spike reared back, smacking his head against the ceiling and his ass against the dash. He yelped as the plug was jarred and denim ground into his backside. He slid to the floor, crumpling against Wesley’s knees and warring with the tears that wanted to slip out onto his cheeks.
“Spike, I’m so sorry…I-I didn’t mean…I just forgot…”
Spike refused to look up at the older boy, even when Wesley patted his head awkwardly in remorse. He’d remembered what had slipped his mind – his father – and now no matter how much he wanted to forget, to simply ignore, his father was in his mind now. He sighed. No amount of talking, or touching, or even kissing would make the bitter memory go away.
He got up, climbed back into his seat, and started the car. He had to go home.
Home to the monster that had taken every shred of William and had destroyed him; home to the monster that…used him every night and left him feeling dirty and disgusting and like a whore; home to the monster that would do the same to Xander if Spike didn’t stop him.
Spike was staring at the secretary, who was typing away behind the desk, rummaging through papers and muttering to herself. During the three hours he’d been sitting there, she’d dropped her pencil twice, lost three files, and had to reboot her computer. He smirked in amusement; she obviously didn’t get the job for her typing skills. He was leaning forward to say something when a hand came from behind him and clamped around his throat.
The grip was tight, and Spike found himself having difficulty breathing. Hot breath caressed his neck as the figure behind him leaned forward, whispering in his ear. “One word from you, and the already considerable amount of trouble you are in will be multiplied greatly when we return home.”
Spike managed half a nod, then slumped back into the chair as he was released and his father walked to the desk. He half-listened as Rupert spoke to the officer, more concerned with the secretary, who winked at him then leaned over the desk, giving Spike quite a view of her cleavage. He smirked at her, but the expression fell from his face as his arm was grabbed and he was pulled from the chair.
The drive home was made in silence.
Spike winced as the rough denim of his jeans rubbed against his backside; perhaps throwing out all his underwear hadn’t been such a great idea. He shifted in his seat, trying to get somewhere resembling comfortable, before sighing loudly.
Wesley grimaced in sympathy; he wasn’t feeling too comfy himself. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak hesitantly. “I-I’m sorry.”
Spike raised a brow in question. “And what exactly do you have to be sorry for?”
“Well, it’s just that I-I know it’s rather painful, a-and I’m sorry you have to, you know, deal with it.” Unable to keep eye contact, Wesley glanced down, then turned to stare out the De Soto’s passenger window.
Brow furrowed, Spike tilted his head, studying the older boy. He reached across the console, awkwardly patting the brunet’s shoulder. “Wes...?” His friend jumped at the touch and, curious, Spike hooked a finger into the back of Wesley’s collar, pulling it down gently and revealing harsh red stripes that he was certain matched his own. He sucked in a harsh breath, and something lodged in his throat. “Wes, I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to cause you trouble…”
“N-No! You didn’t cause this…it’s not the first time it’s happened, and probably won’t be the last. Not that… You see, it’s just that I’m terribly clumsy, and well...it’s not his fault that I…”
Wesley’s voice continued as Spike sank into his own thoughts. Someone else had a shitty father? Spike was a little shamed at the amount of comfort he felt at that thought. He looked up, only to discover Wesley studying him silently.
“Wes?”
The other boy nodded, indicating for Spike to continue.
“Has your dad ever…touched you, or…” He didn’t finish his question, as his eyes darted, unbidden, towards Wesley’s groin. When he glanced back up, the other boy’s eyes were wide with shock.
“Of course not! I mean…No…Not…I…No!”
Spike forced himself to grin. “Me either. I mean, I was just wondering, that’s all.” His eyes filled with tears, and he turned his head towards the window, attempting to control his emotions. He turned back around, rearing back in shock at the face inches from his own.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
In the low lighting Wesley’s eyes were dark and glittering, his breath coming out in warm puffs against Spike’s skin.
“Wes, I…” He was interrupted, as the brunet moved closer.
“Shhh…” Wesley was just a breath away, when the hand he’d braced himself with slipped off the steering wheel and his elbow smashed against the horn, which blasted loudly into the night. Startled, both boys jerked back into their seats, turning toward each other and promptly bursting into giggles.
As the laughter tapered off, however, Spike found himself inexplicably drawn toward the other boy. Slowly they moved toward each other, heartbeats thudding heavily in their ears, breaths short and uneven. They met over the console, lips awkwardly brushing against each other. When Wesley’s lips parted, Spike tentatively slid his tongue into his friend’s mouth, groaning at the sensation.
As the kiss grew in intensity, Spike’s hands moved up to rest against Wesley’s chest, pushing him back and climbing over the console to straddle the brunet’s lap. The new position changed the angle of Wesley’s head, and as Spike’s tongue explored his mouth he gripped the blond’s thighs, kneading the flesh in pleasure. Spike smoothed trembling hands over the brunet’s chest, and Wesley moved his to the blond’s hips, pulling their groins together. They both whimpered at the contact.
Spike had forgotten something, his mind was sure of it, but the feel of Wesley’s hands, the taste of Wesley’s mouth were simply too strong stimuli to keep thinking. When the older boy bucked up against Spike’s erection, his brain gave up completely.
Spike’s mouth slipped off Wesley’s and he trailed wet kisses down an arched neck as his hands found their way under Wesley’s shirt. Needing to feel flesh as well, the brunet slid his hands around Spike’s back and under his shirt, completely forgetting about the blond’s injuries.
At the feel of Wesley’s hands gripping the sensitive welts on his back, Spike reared back, smacking his head against the ceiling and his ass against the dash. He yelped as the plug was jarred and denim ground into his backside. He slid to the floor, crumpling against Wesley’s knees and warring with the tears that wanted to slip out onto his cheeks.
“Spike, I’m so sorry…I-I didn’t mean…I just forgot…”
Spike refused to look up at the older boy, even when Wesley patted his head awkwardly in remorse. He’d remembered what had slipped his mind – his father – and now no matter how much he wanted to forget, to simply ignore, his father was in his mind now. He sighed. No amount of talking, or touching, or even kissing would make the bitter memory go away.
He got up, climbed back into his seat, and started the car. He had to go home.
Home to the monster that had taken every shred of William and had destroyed him; home to the monster that…used him every night and left him feeling dirty and disgusting and like a whore; home to the monster that would do the same to Xander if Spike didn’t stop him.