Chapter 2 - Boy Meets Boy

Chapter note: The chapter title comes from the great online comic Boy Meets Boy, now sadly "cancelled":

Spike’s eyes fluttered open. He stretched out his body in a feline manner and let out something between a yawn and a moan. A smile played on his lips. He never slept as well as after a great shag. Or three. He could live without the dried bodily fluids though, he thought as he felt a sudden itch on his thigh. As he turned he noticed to his discontent that Angel wasn't there. He got out of the bed and made his way towards the indistinct noises coming from the kitchen.

"Makin' a run for it, luv?" Spike said, leaning back against the doorpost with crossed arms and a seductive smile

The bright morning sunlight painted Spike's naked body a golden shade, and he formed an almost comical contrast to Angel, who was dressed in a suit and currently straightening his tie.

"I've got to prepare for a meeting with a client," Angel said with an austere expression.

"Really?" Spike said with a husky voice. "Cause I'm pretty damn sure you’ll have a better time stayin' here, shaggin' me senseless."

"I'm sure I would, but then again, being able to pay the bills is fun too," Angel said as he walked up to Spike. He leaned his body against Spike's and started kissing him.

"So, what did you do last night?" Angel said between kisses. "Were you at a club or something?"

"Hmhm..." Spike murmured into Angel's mouth. "Party.” He felt Angel's hand starting to caress his thigh and grunted a little.

"So..." Kiss. "Were there any…" Kiss. "Pretty guys there?"

Spike was scrambling for a coherent answer from his lust filled mind. "Um..." Kiss. "Didn't notice." Angel's hand slid over his upper thigh and continued over the underside of Spike's increasingly hard cock. Spike gasped in response and deepened the kiss with growing passion.

"Any pretty girls, then?" Angel continued, letting his hand play lightly over the sensitive skin.

"Hmmm..." Spike moaned, pushing his naked body against Angel's suit-covered torso, tangling his fingers in Angel's hair. "Not really..." he mumbled.

"Hot guys like you get noticed." Angel's fingers slid around Spike's hard member in a firm grip and stroked it slowly a few times. "You know I get jealous." Spike didn't reply; he just threw back his head and moaned loudly.

Suddenly Angel released his grip and pulled free of Spike's tight embrace. Spike was breathing heavily, and looked at his lover with confusion. "Hey! You're just gonna go?"

Angel looked at his watch and grabbed his suitcase. "I told you that I have work to do."


"Have to go. I'll see you later." And then he was out the door.

Spike fell back against the doorpost, rubbing his face with a frustrated grimace. He looked down at his condition and sighed. "Great. Just great," he said as he started walking towards the bathroom.

* * * * * *

Six months earlier.

"Christ, mum, I can't believe you made me come here!" Spike crossed his arms and sighed.

"I didn't make you, I asked you nicely," Jenny answered, smiling. "You wouldn't want to miss the opening of your own mother's gallery, would you?"

"Yeah, whatever." Spike grabbed a tiny food-like item from a nearby tray.

The gallery was filled with well-dressed guests looking at the colorful paintings on the wall. Serious chatter filled the room, accompanied by constrained gestures.

"They've all got those really pretentious expressions goin' on, so I'm guessin' that they like it." Spike took a bite of the pastry, and his face scrunched up from distaste. "Bloody hell, mum! What is this?"

Jenny chuckled. "Seaweed tarts."

"Eew!" Spike grabbed a plastic glass of champagne and drank it quickly to get the taste out of his mouth. "Yeah, this night is just getting better and better." Spike winced. "And I don't even like art."

"Oh, come on," Jenny said, waving to a couple of acquaintances. "Complaining doesn't make it better."

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike spotted a dark-haired man in a sober black suit heading their way.

"Oh, hello Angel. Glad you could make it." Jenny reached out and shook his hand.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," the man said, smiling.

"Spike, this is Angel."

As Spike reached out and shook Angel's hand, dark, intense eyes were suddenly looking at him, studying him. Something about the other man made Spike feel confused, a little bit rattled. There was something predatory about him. Something Spike couldn't shake off. Angel held a firm grip on Spike’s hand just a little bit longer than what one usually expected. As he let go, he smiled. "So, you're Jenny's son?"

"Uh..." Spike's strange feeling lingered. "Yeah."

"Angel is the lawyer from Wolfram and Hart who helped me with all that boring legal stuff for the gallery." Jenny handed Angel a glass, and raised her own. "To fine art and good finances!"

"To fine art and good finances!" As the glasses went *clink*, Angel caught Spike's eyes once more.

Spike was starting to feel annoyed with the weird vibes Angel sent off. "So" he said, crossing his arms. "Angel. What kind of name is that?"

Angel arched a brow. "What kind of name is Spike?" When Spike just glared, he continued, "Actually, it's Liam. Angel's just a nickname."

"Is that so?" Spike cocked his head.

The brief moment of silence that followed was suddenly broken by a shrill voice. "Angel? Is that you?" As Angel turned to the middle-aged lady who called for his attention, Jenny looked over at Spike.

"Let's go and say hi to my investor. Sucking up is good for business, you know." As she made her way across the room, Spike follow, wondering what the hell had just happened.

An hour later Spike was standing on the balcony, having a smoke. The warm, calm summer night had a soothing effect. He could practically feel all the lingering chatter melting away from his nerves. Hopefully this event would soon be over so he could get back to his bed and get a good night's sleep. Art folks couldn't possibly be night people. Could they?

"So, this is where you've been hiding?" At the sound of Angel's voice, Spike felt his body go instantly tense.

"What's it to you?" Spike blew out a small nicotine-enriched fog, not bothering to turn around.

Angel walked up next to him and leaned his arms on the railing, looking out over the city below. "Nice night," he said.

"Well yeah," Spike answered indifferently, inhaling the last dose of unhealthy substances that the cigarette had to offer.

"You don't like me, do you?" Angel stated.

"I don't know you." Spike put out his cigarette in the ashtray and turned to go inside again.

Suddenly Angel got up in front of him, placing his hands on the railing on both sides of Spike before he could get any further.

"Hey, what...?" Spike was completely taken by surprise by Angel's actions.

"But I like you. William." Angel leaned his body close to Spike's, and looked him firmly in the eyes. A confident smile played on Angel's lips. "You're a really handsome man. But then again, you probably knew that already."

For once in his life, Spike was completely at a loss for words.

Angel raised one of his hands and slowly ran his fingers along Spike's sharply pronounced jaw. "When I see something I like, I get it," he said with a husky voice. "And I want you."

"Hey! Not interested!" Spike wasn't entirely sure why he didn't punch the other man in the face, considering that this was practically sexual harassment. Spike was utterly disturbed to notice that he was blushing. And even more disturbed to feel that blood was suddenly rushing to other parts of his body as well.

Angel leaned a little bit closer. His hand trailed down Spike's neck and stopped on his now heaving chest. Spike stared down at the hand that was resting on his body. Why the hell did he let Angel do this to him? He was another man for Christ's sake! He tried to kick-start his cerebral functions, but his body seemed to have a life of his own. "I'm...I'm straight," he finally stuttered.

Angel cocked his head and smile seductively. He pulled out a business card from the pocket of his suit, and stuck the corner under the waistband of Spike's pants, briefly sliding it over the muscles of his abdomen in the process. "When you get over it, call me." And with that he pulled away from Spike.

Spike was completely flustered. With shaking hands, he pulled up the business card and stared at it for a moment. "I'm really straight, you know!" he shouted after the infuriating lawyer, but Angel was already gone.

* * * * * *

Buffy looked at the locker in front of her, which was labeled "Buffy.” So, this was it, she was actually working here. She sighed. Not that she wasn't happy to be employed again, and the co-workers seemed to be great and all, but still... The last club had been her workplace since she had started in the business several years ago. A new job meant losing the comfort of knowing exactly how everything worked, but also losing the day-to-day interaction with the co-workers she had been working with for so long.

As Buffy pulled off her sweater she heard the door opening behind her. "Hi Buffy!" Willow said as she entered the locker room. As Buffy turned, she noticed that Willow was in an unusually good mood.

"Well, don't you look happy today!" Buffy smiled.

"Well..." Willow looked secretive, but it didn't take long for her to break. "I met a guy at the party yesterday!"

"Ooh! Spill!" Buffy said..

"Well," Willow sat down on one of the benches. "His name is Oz."

"Like the prison series?"

"No," Willow pouted. "Like the Judy Garland movie. So, anyway, he plays guitar in a band. Isn't that the coolest thing ever?"

"Sure. That and air conditioning." Buffy sat down next to Willow on the bench.

"He's really adorable and funny!" Willow sounded giddy. "And he's got such cute technicolour hair. He's sort of cartoony. Oh, but in a sexy way. Not like a roadrunner."

"Good thing, ‘cause that could be exhausting. So..." Buffy took Willow’s hands and looked at her, smiling. "Are you two going to go out?"

Willow frowned. "Well, he didn't ask me out. So no, I guess."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Maybe you missed the memo, but this is the 21st century! Nowadays we girls can vote and own property and stuff. And, by god, even ask guys out!"

"Not being an anti-feminist here. Just... "

"Ask him!" Buffy put her arm around Willow. "If he's stupid enough to turn you down, I've got some rocky road in my freezer."

"So, how about you?" Willow said, smiling at Buffy, clearly eager to change the subject. "What did you do at the party? Met any guys?"

"No, just Spike, our taken co-worker. But he's really nice actually. And funny. We talked for hours!"

"But platonic talk, right?" Willow's eyes narrowed.

"I don't hit on non-single guys! So yes. Platonic talk!" Buffy looked grumpy. "And can talking really be non-platonic? Doesn't there at least have to be an exchange of bodily fluids?"

"How did our discussion end up covering bodily fluids?"

Buffy giggled. "Come on, groupie girl." She got up and tugged on her friend's hand. "Time to work."

The DJ was testing the lights and the sound, so short bursts of music and flashing light surrounded them as they entered the bigger room. When they walked up to the fourth floor, they spotted Spike at the bar, unpacking straws and those ridiculous little umbrellas. "Hi there girls!" he said as they got closer.

"Have you recovered from the hangover?" Buffy leaned her forearms at the bar and raised a brow at Spike.

"It's not like I drank that much anyway." Spike said, smiling.

"Then I guess you're just naturally cheerful." She picked up an umbrella and twirled it between her fingers.

"Well, that's me. The cheerful guy." Spike said, pulling the umbrella from Buffy's hand. "You two better get your asses back here, ‘cause we're openin' in 20 minutes."

Within an hour, the place was filled with people dressed in fancy clothes, wearing lip gloss, gold necklaces and expensive shoes. The bar where they were working was located on the top floor, which meant that it was possible to talk while working without having to shout.

"So, how’s it going?" Willow asked as she reached past Buffy to get a napkin. "Your first day and all."

"If you’ve seen one bar, you have pretty much seen all of them." Buffy said as she put some ice in the shaker. "It's like weddings."

"Um, Buffy," Spike whispered. "What's in a snowball? I've only been doin' this for six months. Keep forgettin' the ingredients."

"Well, you're lucky. I'm practically a drink library. I never forget a recipe. It's a talent."

Before Buffy could continue, Spike heard a loud, drunken voice behind him. "Hey you!" As he turned he stood face to face with a beefy, clearly drunk jock-looking guy, Spike vaguely recognized him as an acquaintance of one of his co-workers.

"People like you make me sick!" the drunk man slurred.

"I beg your pardon?!" Spike yelled.

"Can't believe that they hire your kind." His voice became louder "Well, yeah, people like you should be put out of your misery. For everyone's sake. Shot like dogs!" He pointed his finger furiously at Spike.

Spike felt his face go red from anger, and he took a deep breath to give the man a piece of his mind, but before he could reply he heard a furious voice from behind his back. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you better watch it!" Buffy's eyes were flashing with rage. She grabbed his collar, and pulled him against the bar. "Didn't you mother tell you that death threats aren't nice?!" The man was completely taken by surprise. When the shock started to change to anger, he clenched his fists, but froze when he spotted the guards that were heading his way. "This guy was threatening Spike. Throw him out, boys."

Without a word, the man let himself be pulled away. If it weren’t for the music, you would be able to hear the sound of crickets in the crowd.

Spike was impressed. "Thanks, luv."

"Well, assholes bring out combat!Buffy." She reached for a bottle filled with a yellow substance and handed it to him. "And it's Advocaat and Sprite."


"Snowball. It's Advocaat and Sprite.

Spike arched his brow at an anxious looking Willow and smiled a little as he got back to his chores. Buffy sure wasn't like most girls. And he liked it. He wondered if Buffy had understood what the man was talking about, but they all got back to work before the issue could come up. He quietly wondered if she would have been as furious if she had known.

* * * * * *

Buffy sighed and closed her eyes as she had put away the last item and the bar was clean. "God, silence is really underestimated."

"Definitely," Willow agreed.

They all were silent for a moment. "God, I can't believe that guy!" Willow suddenly spat out.

"Yeah, and I can't believe you." Spike grinned at Buffy.

"Well, people shouldn't get away with stuff like that." She clenched her teeth. "It's a personal motto."

"Well thanks, pet, for saving the damsel in distress."

Buffy smiled. "If you want to thank me properly you could always buy me a burger or something. I'm starving."

"Oh, so standin' up to bullies has a price now?"

"Well, even Rosa Parks had to eat."

"Ok, but no burgers. I'm gonna show you where you can buy the best food ever."

"Whatever. As long as it's got calories. So, Willow?" Buffy said. "Want to come?"

"Nope." Willow yawned. "I've left my bed alone for too long. Soon it will get frustrated and start to hump the other furniture."

"Well in that case, see ya!" Buffy chimed.

"Have fun with the calories!" Willow answered.

* * * * * *

They were standing on a somewhat shabby street a couple of blocks from the club. "Ok, here it is. The best food in the town," Spike said, pointing at a small stand on a street corner. Even though it was three in the morning, there were a few people in line. "Well, and also the only place that's open at this hour."

Buffy looked doubtful. "And you're sure I'm not going to receive a free food poisoning with my meal?" she asked as they got in line.

"No," Spike said, smiling. "They charge you extra for that."

Soon it was their turn. "Two falafels, with that spicy sauce," Spike said. The vendor handed them a couple of huge portions wrapped in napkins.

Buffy took a hesitant bite from the falafel, and her suspicious expression soon changed to a surprised grin. "You're right. This is great!" She started chomping away at the falafel.

"Well," Spike said with his mouth full of food. "I told you so."

They walked down the street, towards the water, and sat down at a bench to finish their meals. Buffy glanced over at Spike. She hesitated for a moment, then she spoke. "Listen... I know it's not by business or anything. Just curious... What was that guy talking about?"

Spike tensed up for a moment. "I guess he doesn't like that I fuck blokes," he said and resumed the late dinner.

Buffy was surprised. Not that she minded, she had just...assumed that Willow was talking about a girlfriend. Involuntary images suddenly popped up in the back of her mind, of a naked Spike, and another man, all tangled and sweaty and... Ok, no more Queer as Folk for Buffy.

"Well, he's an idiot." Buffy said vehemently. "Whether you're gay or straight isn't anybody else’s business."

"Glad to hear that, luv. Not everybody agrees with that." Spike wiped some sauce from the corner of his mouth. "And technically I'm bi." Spike felt relieved. Usually he couldn't care less what other people thought. In fact, shocking bigots was kind of a hobby. But if Buffy had turned out to be one of them, he would have been disappointed.

"Makes sense, I guess." Buffy looked thoughtful. "Kind of stupid to be all gender biased, I guess."

"I don't think about it too much. It's just the way I am," Spike said. "Didn't really accept it before though. Angel is my first boyfriend."

Buffy giggled. "Angel?"

"I keep tellin' him, it sounds completely daft!" he said with amused animosity. "Actually it's his nickname. Ok, on second thought, I don't know if Liam is any better..." Spike's eyes lit up the moment he mentioned Angel. "We've been together for six months," he continued, smiling.

"Good for you." Buffy sighed and threw the remains of her falafel in the trash. "Perhaps that's why it's totally impossible to find a guy in LA. They’re dating each other."

Spike chuckled.

"Do these things happen often? I mean, people giving you shit for being bi?" she continued.

"Not really. And those who do can just go and fuck themselves." Spike swallowed the last of his falafel and tossed the napkins in the trash can.

"Good attitude," Buffy said.

They sat quiet for a couple of minutes, enjoying the warm summer breeze and the beautiful night sky. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just peaceful. Buffy was the first to break the silence. "So, Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt?"

"Definitely Brad," he stated with confidence.


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