On the Other Side

Chapter 20


Spike glared into the mirror, growling in frustration. He had one damn curl that wouldn’t lie flat. Clenching the comb so hard it nearly broke, he reached for more gel. The same one gave him trouble all the time, but there was no way he’d go to a party looking like a Nancy with curls!

He sighed with relief as the curl finally complied with his wishes and ran from the toilet to his room, where he promptly began rummaging through the piles of clothes on the floor for his boots. He wasn’t quite sure how they managed to get lost; sure, there were piles of clothes and cds and paper scattered around the room, but he wore his boots every day and couldn’t for the life of him figure out how they always managed to get under items that had for sure been there a week. Sod’s law, he supposed; especially now that he was late, and hadn’t even picked Wesley up yet.

He and Wesley had talked about the…kissing. Well, it wasn’t so much a talk as Spike blurting out, ‘I’m not gay!’ one evening as they’d been driving to the cinema. It had been quickly followed by the brunet’s own assertion. While that had far from settled it in Spike’s mind, he’d eventually come to terms with the fact that he and his friend had simply taken comfort in each other. It wouldn’t hurt, though, if he could manage to pick up a girl at the party.

He’d found his left boot and sat on the bed lacing it, idly wondering what the party would be like, other than the beer and girls Wesley had promised to get him to go. He’d never been to a frat party, but if they were anything like the ones on the telly it promised to be a good time.

He found his other boot under the dresser and slid it on before running down the stairs and out of the house, only to come crashing back through the door when he realized he’d forgotten his keys.

He picked Wesley up, then drove to the local college, pulling in the parking lot across the street from a very large, very impressive dorm. They exited the vehicle, both staring up at the building in awe.

“You sure we’re invited, mate?”

“Yes, Spike, I’m sure. Angel called and asked me to come – he specifically told me to bring you.”

Spike’s brow furrowed at that – this Angel bloke didn’t even know him. “Right...” He lit a cigarette and followed Wesley into the building.

They were greeted at the door by none other than the man who’d invited them.

Spike took the hand offered to him and shook it, a bit unsettled when its owner didn’t release him as quickly as he’d’ve liked.

Angel. What a poncy name. Too much gel in the hair as well. Nice brown eyes, though. And he didn’t just think that.

He wasn’t exactly sure why Wes was friends with this hulk of a guy, but it got them into the party so he didn’t dwell on it too much, especially as he’d spotted the beer. He strode off towards the other end of the room, ignoring Angel’s assertion that it was nice to meet him.

After a few beers Spike was feeling much more settled, and began scanning the room for girls. There was a brunette in the corner making eyes at him; big, pretty, blue eyes, at that. Winking at her, he grabbed an extra beer and began weaving through the crowd toward her, only to run into a wall of a human, nearly spilling his beer.

“Thanks!” A very different, very familiar brunet was standing in front of him, removing the extra beer from his hand and taking a swig. “I’ve been looking for you…Spike, is it?”

Spike raised a brow at the larger man. “Yeah, what of it?”

Angel grinned at him, large, dark eyes locked on Spike’s face. “It’s just…a little unusual, don’t you think?”

The muscles in Spike’s back tensed up and he took a step backwards. “And big, hulking blokes named Angel are everywhere, are they?” He arched his brow at the larger man, casually taking a gulp of his beer and glancing around at the brunette he’d been eyeing; someone tall, dark and handsome had beaten him there. Spike drained his bottle.

His attention was drawn back to Angel, who was still standing there, staring at him. There was something in Angel’s eyes that Spike just couldn’t figure out – it was all at once completely unnerving and somewhat…exciting. He flinched when the brunet threw his arm around Spike’s shoulder, eyes widening as he was pulled against the larger body.

He was just about to push the other man away when Angel leaned down and whispered in his ear, warm breath tickling the hairs on his neck. A shock ran down his spine to the stirring in his pants.

“Looks like we need to get you another beer.” Angel’s voice was deep and had the barest hint of an accent, although Spike’s mind was otherwise occupied with the hand caressing his shoulder and the warm body next to his. Senses overwhelmed, he allowed himself to be led into the kitchen, where a new beer was shoved into his hand. He was then escorted into yet another room, further away from the party.

Angel steered him towards a large green sofa in the back corner of the room and sat down, pulling Spike down to nearly sit in the older man’s lap. Angel kept his arm around Spike, fingers inching toward his neck and slipping inside to idly stroke Spike’s collarbone. The larger man shifted a bit, turning to mold his body to the smaller one beside him.

Angel dropped his head against Spike’s shoulder. “It was too loud out there.” He shifted again, his other hand resting on Spike’s knee and nuzzled into the younger boy’s neck. “This is much better…,” fingers traced a line from Spike’s clavicle to his jaw, tilting his head towards the brunet, “don’t you think?”

Spike couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. This…man…was touching him, whispering to him and, if Spike wasn’t mistaken, was about to kiss him! Not only that, but Spike’s body was definitely responding…favorably! His breath was coming in short, uneven pants, his heart in his throat and his cock was throbbing; he ached to just lean into the embrace, mold himself to the older boy and allow those hands to touch him…anywhere, everywhere.

Speaking of hands, the one on his knee was slowly sliding upwards and Angel was moving closer, lips gently brushing against his…and suddenly Spike needed to kiss Angel. He needed to feel those soft, wet lips capturing his, that hot tongue invading his mouth; he could nearly taste it. His lips parted in anticipation and…

“My, this party is simply amazing!”

Spike jerked back from Angel and looked up at…Wesley? His friend plopped down on the sofa next to Spike, grinning from ear to ear and…giggling? Spike studied the boy as he emptied the bottle in his own hands, then took the one Spike had forgotten he was holding and drained it. The hand on his shoulder squeezed as the other was moved to his hip. He reflexively moved back into the touch, a tingle traveling all the way to his toes at the warmth radiating from the body pressed against him.

Wesley belched, drawing Spike’s attention away from Angel.

“You two getting to know each other, then?”

Spike turned his head toward the man behind him, glancing into brown eyes through his eyelashes. Angel’s grip tightened, causing Spike to gasp.

Shaking his head, he turned back towards his friend. “Yeah, I suppose you could say that…” His voice was strangely low and gravelly.

Wesley smiled even wider. “Brilliant! I knew you two’d get on well!” He sat there, grinning, a bit longer. “Hey! We can play charades!” He clapped his hands together, the movement causing him to lose his balance, and promptly slid off the sofa and onto the floor.

Spike pulled away from Angel, for the first time noticing how glassy his friend’s eyes were. “Bloody hell, he’s pissed.” He stood up, reaching down and looping his arms around Wesley, pulling him to unsteady feet. “Come on, then, let’s get you home.” He glanced back at Angel, who’d moved from the couch to stand next to him.

“You’ll come back?”

Spike locked eyes with Angel and couldn’t look away. He knew he couldn’t, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him to drop Wesley, wrap himself around Angel, and never let go.

“I really feel quite fine, I’ll have you know.”

Spike glanced towards his friend just in time to see the contents of Wesley’s stomach empty themselves on the rug.

“Yeah, you’re just fine.” Spike took the corner of Wesley’s shirt and wiped his friend’s face with it. Not risking a glance, he spoke over his shoulder, “Can’t. Curfew and all.” He adjusted his grip and led Wesley out of the room.

He didn’t look back.