I'm not sure what to classify this fic as. It's heavy on the Spangel but also on the Spander. *shrugs*


Pairing: S/A, S/X, A/W
Rating: Adults only please
Beta readers: _sharvie_ and starspider - Thank you!
Feedback: Appreciated more than chocolate
Concrit: Absolutely! E-mail please
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: Spike and Angel thought they had it all. When successful private investigator Angel takes on a new case for an old friend, it leaves Spike feeling lonely and insecure. What happens when Spike meets a dark, mysterious stranger? And what secret does he hold? All-Human AU

Hearts and Secrets

by
Tgray

Part One

“How do you expect me to act when you’re spending all your time with that bloody ponce?!”

Angel slid his arms around Spike’s waist, pulling him forward, trying to take his mind off yet another argument. Things had been tense since he’d taken Wesley’s case, but there was no way he could have said no when he was asked. Even with Spike’s jealous streak, and knowing it would cause problems in their relationship, Angel wanted to help. Needed to help, because he felt he owed it to him. He’d hurt Wes, badly. If this, now, could make up for it somehow… well, Angel was willing to try.

“It’s business.”

“That’s what you keep saying, luv.”

“So why don’t you believe it?” He leaned down, pressing his lips slowly against Spike’s, being careful not to force the kiss. Last time they’d had this argument, Spike had accused him of trying to use sex as a way to divert the real subject. They both knew he was right, though Angel would never admit to it.

“You have a history, Angel. Two years together.”

“And that’s exactly what it is. History.” Angel cradled the side of Spike’s head, spreading his fingers through the soft, blond hair, free of the gel that usually held it in place. He loved seeing this casual side of Spike. Nighttime, dressed in sweats, shrugging off the attitude that seemed to come when he slid into his leather coat. This was William… the part of Spike that was carefully hidden away, saved for times when he and Angel were alone. “My life is with you. Wesley was a long time ago.”

“Not so long…”

“Long enough.”

“That’s your opinion, Angel. How can this be okay when I can picture the two of you? Just the thought that he’s had you, felt you…”

Angel sighed, resting his forehead against Spike’s, even though the other man was a good six inches shorter than him. “Please, stop making this more than it needs to be. I wouldn’t have taken Wes’s case if I thought we couldn’t handle it. I thought we were stronger than this.”

“We are, but…”

“I can’t change what happened before I knew you and it’s not fair for you to keep bringing it up. We both have pasts, Spike. It’s not like you haven’t had other lovers…”

“Yeah, but I’m not spending every waking moment with them, am I? Waving it in front of your face? I don’t have coffee and sneak around behind your back about it.”

“And neither do I. You know about it every time I meet with Wes.”

“Do I?”

Spike looked down, knowing he was overreacting as usual, but couldn’t help the jealousy that flared every time he thought of Angel and Wes alone together. He knew in his heart nothing was going on, knew Angel loved him, but the tension between them had been almost unbearable the past couple of months. If nothing else, that alone would have been the perfect reason for Angel to cheat.

He had to twist the knife. Just a little bit. That’s the only way he’d be able to tell. His eyes shifted upward, locking on Angel’s, looking for something… anything to prove he didn’t have to worry. “Do I, Angel? Do I know about it every time?”

Angel didn’t falter. “Yes, you do.” His expression was steady, not a hint of hesitation and it was enough. For right now, until the next time Spike let it get to him again, he was convinced of Angel’s faithfulness.

Knowing the accusations had stopped, Angel tilted his head, raising Spike’s chin with his hand and kissed his lips slowly. “I love you, baby. What do I have to do to make you believe it?”

A moment of silence and then Spike whispered, “Get off the bloody case, Angel. It’s not good for us, luv.” He was tired of fighting, tired of the uncertainty.

Angel pulled away, shaking his head and headed for the couch. He sat down, began untying his shoelaces and looked back toward Spike. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Won’t, you mean,” he challenged. “Big difference, mate.”

“Whatever. Either way, the answer’s no.”

Spike grit his teeth, his jaw locking so tight it made the sharpness of his cheekbones stand out more than they usually did. He watched, frozen as Angel stretched out on the couch, pulling a blanket over his body. Usually, the spare blankets stayed tucked inside the closet, but recently, one stayed folded neatly across the back of the sofa, used more often than it should have been.

“Guess he’s a bit more important then,” Spike mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for Angel to hear.

“Go to bed, Spike. I’m not even gonna justify that with an answer.” Angel rolled over, turning toward the back of the couch, letting Spike know he was finished. No use making things any worse.

“Bugger this.”

Spike stormed out of the living room into the bedroom, changing from the comfort of his sweatpants into his jeans. The last thing he wanted to do was to sleep alone in their bed without Angel… again. He was spending way too many nights alone. As he stepped back into the living room and grabbed his leather coat from the rack next to the door, Angel shifted around, opening one eye to see what Spike was doing.

When Spike’s hand was on the knob, Angel spoke up. “So you’re just gonna leave?”

“Not bloody well stayin’ here tonight.”

“You know you’re being immature.”

Spike stopped, his entire body tense, staring at the door. “Tell Wes to get someone else.”

“No.”

Spike shook his head, equal parts angry and disappointed, and slid through the doorway, slamming it behind him.

Part Two

Spike sat at the end of the bar, chatting with the bartender, nursing his fifth beer. He’d spent the evening sharking a few games of pool, aware of the many eyes on him, both male and female, while playing his best at being nonchalant about it. He liked the attention, always had. He’d never act on it, of course, because he was with Angel. But it was nice to know he had a string of admirers to choose from, if ever the moment permitted.

He’d never had problems finding someone to take home, and spent most of his time picking up one night stands until Angel came along, changing his entire world in the matter of a couple of months. They’d been together a year now, longer than any relationship he’d ever been in. He liked the security and the idea that there was always someone waiting for you, always happy to see you. Unless you were accusing them of fucking someone else. That really seemed to put a damper on things.

He was about to leave, laying a tip on the bar when a young man slid forward, easing onto the barstool beside him, watching him closely. Spike tilted his head slightly, glancing out of the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t deny that the boy was attractive. Would have been just his type when he was single and looking. But the kid was also young. Probably young enough to have gotten in on a fake ID. Spike shifted his gaze and couldn’t help but notice that there was something strangely familiar in the dark eyes. He couldn’t quite place it, but he felt as if he knew him somehow. After a moment lost in thought, he finally heard the voice beside him, trying to get his attention.

“You look like you could use another beer.”

Spike picked up his bottle, swirling the contents in the bottom and shook his head. “About to leave.” He tapped a cigarette from his pack and gripped the end with his teeth to pull it out. He lit it, exhaled the puff of smoke and turned his head. “Why? You buying?”

The boy took a sip from his own bottle and called for the bartender, holding up a twenty. Once she left with the money, he motioned toward the pool tables. “Looks like you pissed some people off.”

“They’ll get over it.”

He watched the smile curl across the stranger’s lips, a smile that lit his entire face. Definitely his type, but he’d been out of the flirting and dating game for a while. The bad part was, until now, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. And why the hell was he thinking those kinds of thoughts anyway? Like he was interested. Like he could pick the boy up and take him home. He shook his head and ground the cigarette out into an ashtray in front of him. He really needed to get home to Angel… after this last drink.

“So, you here alone?”

Spike looked around and cocked his brow. “Don’t see anyone else, do you?” A little flirting wouldn’t hurt anything. Besides, it wasn’t like he was really doing anything wrong.

The boy bit his lip and smiled. “Was hoping you’d say that.” He moved in, scooting his stool closer, leaning further into Spike’s space. “Cause I’ve been watching you.”

Spike lifted his beer and swallowed hard. “That right?”

“Oh hell yeah. Been waiting to come over and meet you. But I bet you’re used to that. Bet you’re used to people coming onto you?” He hesitated, and took a quick, nervous breath. “I was kinda hoping, maybe…”

Another lift of his eyebrow and Spike smirked. The boy was gorgeous. His unsureness hidden by bravado, trying to be cool, but Spike could tell he wasn’t used to this.

He tried to draw it out, using his lowest seductive voice and asked, “Hoping maybe what?”

The boy looked straight at him, with hopeful eyes and blurted out, “You are into guys, right?”

Spike nearly spit his beer, his eyes widening in amusement. Without too much thought, but knowing he shouldn’t be playing like this, he turned, letting his legs fall open on either side of the stool and placed his hand on the boy’s thigh. “What do you think?” He shifted his thumb, rubbing slightly along the crease between thigh and groin.

The boy visibly gulped and exhaled as he moved forward, forcing Spike’s hand closer toward his crotch. “I think,” he swallowed, “you’re fucking hot.”

Spike glanced down as he dragged his index finger over the place where the boy’s cock sat, watching as the tan khakis he was wearing began to tent. He slid forward, sitting just on the edge of his stool and leaned in so he could reach the boy’s ear. Softly, while his hand continued to work, backing off so he was barely brushing against the cock stirring to life, he whispered, “Better be careful who you pick up in bars. Never know what their intentions might be.”

The boy was panting; his eyes open only half way. He wrapped his fingers around Spike’s wrist, stopping the movement and then looked up. “Come home with me.”

Spike studied him for a moment, noting the look of want and lust in the deep, brown eyes. God, if he were single and free to do what he wanted, the boy would be in a world of trouble. But he wasn’t, and he wasn’t about to do anything stupid, either. But… he couldn’t help it because he had to taste him. He’d let himself feel guilty later, but right now, it was too tempting to pass up. His hand moved away from the boy’s groin to settle on his hip as he closed the gap between them, bringing their mouths only inches away.

The boy shifted and whispered, “Please? I’d really like to fuck you.”

Spike smiled in awe at the forward display, and for the first time since they’d been together, just for a moment, he wished he wasn’t involved with Angel. He licked his lips and leaned forward, growling out, “Not quite the shy boy, are we?”

The last thing he saw was a sly grin before their lips met, soft and wet, sliding against each other with gentle force. He allowed his tongue to graze between, but didn’t try to go further, keeping the kiss tamer than he would have liked. After a few seconds passed, he pulled back, curling his tongue behind his teeth.

“Sorry mate, I don’t go home with strangers.”

With his heart pounding in his chest, excited far more than he should have been, Spike pulled himself off the stool and walked away, forcing his eyes to not look back as he left the building.

All the way home, he was a ball of guilty, nervous energy. Fuck, what was all that about? He kept telling himself it was all Angel’s fault, causing him to feel neglected and insecure, but who the hell was he really kidding? The boy had turned him on.

By the time Spike made it back to the apartment, he’d pushed the boy out of his head and tried to wrap his mind around Angel working with Wesley and what they might or might not be doing together. Spending time away, just allowing himself to let loose and cool down after all of the fighting, gave him a chance to think about things and to consider how much Angel really did love him. Or maybe it was just the six beers and quarter bottle of Jack Daniels taking the edge off the situation. Either way, his mind was set on seeing things from a different perspective by giving Angel the benefit of the doubt.

But then there was the young, dark stranger and the incredible kiss. The kiss he wasn’t going to think about. Ever again.

He entered the room and slid out of his duster, letting it fall into a heap on the floor. The only thing he could focus on was finding Angel and apologizing for being such a stupid, jealous boyfriend. Angel loved him and he’d given him no reason to think otherwise. Sure, Wesley Wyndham-Price was definitely more Angel’s type. No doubt about that. Not only was he well educated; he came from money, just like Angel, while Spike had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. Wes was brought up all sophisticated and proper-like, and Spike learned most of what he knew on the streets. But, even with such vast differences, Spike had the one thing Wesley didn’t. He had Angel.

So now, all he had to do was make things right and stop being such an immature jerk. If he wanted to hold onto Angel, he had to keep him happy. And that was something Spike definitely knew how to do. If he could just keep his lips off other men.

Looking around the dark apartment, he noticed the sofa was empty and the blanket was lying in a ball on the floor beside it. Spike made his way to the other end of the apartment, pushing the bedroom door open, and saw Angel stretched out on the bed, still dressed in his business suit, lying on top of the comforter. He should have known. Angel never stayed on the couch for very long, even when they were fighting. Spike liked to think it was because Angel missed the comfort of being with him in their bed. But really, he knew it was because Angel’s long legs were always too cramped to stay on the short sofa for too long.

He stood in the doorway, watching as Angel’s chest rose and fell slowly. He’d done away with his tie at least, opening the top three buttons of his now-wrinkled dress shirt, which was tucked half in, half out of his slacks. Spike smiled at the rumpled mess. Angel had a thing about neatness, which Spike definitely didn’t share his passion for. Angel’s side of the closet compared to Spike’s? No similarity. They were opposites in every way except for the way they felt about each other.

Spike moved closer, crawling onto the bed, nudging his nose softly against a warm cheek. “Angel?” He shifted his body, spooning along Angel’s side, running his fingers through sleep mussed hair. Angel mumbled and unconsciously batted Spike’s hand away. Spike didn’t give up, instead pushed a leg over top and leaned in to brush their lips together. “You awake, luv?”

An eye opened slightly, squinting at him through long, dark lashes. Angel’s head fell to the side, looking at the small, digital alarm clock beside him and then back toward Spike.

“It’s 2 AM.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not really.”

Angel’s expression shifted as he awakened a bit more. “What do you want, Spike?” he asked, the frustration coming out in his voice. “I’m too tired to argue with you anymore tonight.”

“Not gonna argue,” Spike whispered, crawling onto Angel’s body, rubbing his hips sensuously against him. “Was plannin’ on sayin’ I’m sorry.”

Angel cocked an eyebrow.

“Look, pet. You can understand where it might bother me, right? You and him working so close together and all?”

Angel let out a gentle sigh, but nodded anyway.

“It’s just, a bit of déjà vu. If it wasn’t for you taking my case… us working day in and day out…”

Angel smiled, remembering. “We wouldn’t be together.” He paused and then said, “I know, Spike, and I do understand. But you have to decide whether you trust me or you don’t.” Angel’s face turned serious again. “Just because I got involved with you doesn’t mean…” He stopped and shook his head. “He’s a client. That’s all.”

“One that you used to fuck,” Spike reminded him.

“But not anymore.”

“But you are spending a lot of time together.”

“And then I come home to you. To our apartment and our bed.” Angel reached around and gripped the back of Spike’s neck, pulling him down for a rough kiss. “Right where I want to be.”

Spike closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of Angel’s lips, his tongue pushing inside, possessing him. He let go of a little more tension and moved, nuzzling his lips against Angel’s neck, nibbling gently along the sensitive trail up to his ear. He worked his hips slowly, grinding forward between the ridge of Angel’s inner thigh and groin, teasing Angel’s cock to life with barely-there touches.

“What time do you have to go in?”

Angel closed his eyes and ground upward against Spike’s body. “Depends on how long you keep me up.”

Spike placed his hands on either side of Angel’s head and lifted his upper body, rubbing his crotch forward and back against Angel’s leg. “So you’re planning on staying home then?”

Angel chuckled and grabbed Spike’s arms, flipping them over so he was lying on top. “What’s gotten into you?”

Spike gripped Angel’s shirt, trying to pry the buttons loose to push it down his arms. “You, in about two minutes if you’re lucky.”

“Mmm.” Angel pulled back, taking a kneeling position and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, followed by the white t-shirt underneath. He climbed off the bed and unfastened his pants, sliding them along with his boxers onto the floor. He positioned his hand around his cock and began to stroke, moving closer so the other hand could slide up Spike’s thigh, stopping to palm the prominent bulge between his legs. “Who needs two minutes?” His fingers pulled at Spike's buttons clumsily. “Get these off.”

Angel took his hand away, reaching in the bedside table while Spike discarded his jeans and settled back against the pillow. “That’s it, pet,” Spike rasped, watching Angel slick his cock with a handful of lube. “Nice and wet and it’ll slide right in.” He reached behind his knees and pulled his legs up as Angel returned and knelt in front of him, positioning his cock at Spike’s entrance. He gripped Spike’s hips and pushed forward, easing the head in with a grunt.

“God, Spike. Love taking you this way. Without my fingers stretching you… getting you ready for me. You’re so fucking tight.”

Spike clenched, feeling the slow, steady burn as Angel pushed in a little further, working through the tight ring inside his ass. He rose upward as high as he could, sliding his feet up, resting his calves on Angel’s shoulders. Angel let go of his hips and twisted both hands into the bottom of Spike’s shirt, pushing it up and over Spike’s arms, letting it bind his hands above his head.

Spike squirmed and pushed back, urging Angel deeper, until finally, with a forced thrust, he felt Angel’s balls firmly against his ass. “That’s right, pet. Such a big cock… Make it burn.”

Angel moaned, letting go with one of his hands to find a peaked nipple, rolling and pinching it between his fingers as he began a steady rhythm with his hips. “You’re crazy,” Angel growled, as he pounded into him, “to think I’d ever…” a strangled breath, “want anyone else... this way.” His fingers made their way downward to wrap around Spike’s cock, stroking harshly as he fucked faster into his body. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Oh bloody hell, Angel. Fuck me!” he roared, his voice carrying loudly across the silent room. “Just want you to fuck me.” Spike arched his back letting his muscles clench and release, massaging Angel’s cock as he tried to encourage just the right angle. One, two more thrusts and he was there, seeing lights and stars as Angel ground against his prostate, his cock letting go and spilling over Angel’s hand, leaving streams of cum to land on his stomach.

“Fuck!” Angel screamed, slamming hard one more time, and then stilling completely as he also came, deep inside Spike’s body.

Part Three

Spike woke to the ringing phone and Angel’s not so pleasant string of curses as he untangled himself from Spike’s body to answer it. He had never been a morning person; in fact, Spike would say Angel was a real pain in the arse until he had his second cup of coffee. He normally had to be at the office by 8:00, but this morning, as Spike glanced at the clock on the nightstand, he realized Angel was two hours late. Watching him pad naked across the room and into the hall, Spike smiled and remembered just why he was still lying in bed.

He stretched languorously, rubbing his hand over his stomach and felt the flaking mess that he’d been too lazy to clean up after… well, after both times they’d made up. He pulled himself upright, lying back against the headboard with the sheet tucked firmly around his waist. Spotting his pack of Marlboros on the nightstand, he indulged, lighting one and enjoying the fix before Angel had a chance to come back and complain about the smoke.

He was just stubbing out the finished butt when Angel strolled through the door, sliding back in under the covers, laying his body against Spike’s.

Spike ran his fingers through the top of Angel’s hair, lovingly rearranging the mussed spikes, and then asked, “Cordelia?”

Angel closed his eyes and nestled closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Who else?”

Spike smiled. “She pissed?”

Angel glanced up. “Little bit. Had to reschedule Ms. Rivers again.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “That the bint who keeps calling you to follow her husband around?”

Angel sighed and pushed his fingers under the sheet, playing with the curls below Spike’s belly button. “I keep telling her to leave. I’ve caught him with three different women and she still thinks he’s going to change.”

“Stupid.” The muscles in his abdomen flinched when Angel slid lower, twirling a single finger around the head of his soft cock.

Angel shrugged. “She loves him.” His thumb joined in and he made a circle, beginning a long, leisurely stoke, feeling Spike’s shaft harden. “People in love see what they want to. Sometimes it’s just easier than the truth.”

Spike inhaled and closed his eyes. “If the sod doesn’t want to be there…” he let out a small, breathless moan, “he should let her go and do them both a bloody favor.” His body shuddered slightly. “That’s nice, pet.”

Angel chuckled. “Got time for a quickie before I have to go in.”

Spike smiled coyly. “Such a romantic, you are.”

Angel threw the sheet off and pulled Spike down, rolling his body on top, pinning him to the mattress. “There’s a time and place for romance. Sometimes a fuck’s just a fuck.”

Spike wrapped his legs around Angel’s waist, gripping his ass tightly between his fingers as he ground upward. “I knew I loved you for a reason.”

“What time do you work tonight?”

“Ten thirty. Got a barge comin’ in. Should take us most of the night.”

“Gunn on shift with you?”

Spike ducked his head out from behind the shower curtain, dripping water onto the rug beside the tub. “You almost sound jealous,” he teased, smiling widely.

Angel was standing fully dressed in front of the mirror, his gelled hands working their way into his damp hair. “Nah. Gunn’s alright.”

Spike nodded, disappearing back under the spray, letting the water run down the length of his back. “Better believe it, mate. Been watching my back for as long as I can remember.”

“Which brings up my next point. You know I hate you working down at the docks at that time of night. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

Spike sighed. “And you know I’m not gonna quit so you might as well drop the subject.”

“I know, I know,” Angel answered giving in. “Not saying that. I’m just saying… if you insist on being there, he’s a good guy to have around.”

Rinsing the last of the soap from his body, Spike stepped out of the tub and used the large towel hanging over the rod to dry his hair and then wrapped it around his waist when he was done. Angel turned to him and stepped closer, placing a kiss that tasted of minty toothpaste on his lips. “Gotta go.”

“Will you be working late?”

“Not too late. I’ll be here before you have to go, unless… why don’t you meet me for dinner? I could leave early enough for that.”

“Can’t get enough of me, eh?” Spike chuckled, leaning in to nip Angel’s bottom lip.

Angel smiled. “Really can’t.”

“Alright then, better get to it. You’re already, what? Four hours late?” Spike dropped his towel, turned around and purposely wiggled his hips as he walked back into the bedroom and plopped ‘stomach down’ onto the bed. “So, see you at Guido’s? Around seven?” he asked innocently, looking over his shoulder and locking eyes on Angel who was now leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

The look of lust in his eyes couldn’t have been more obvious. “Or I could just stay here.”

“Go,” Spike stated firmly. He slipped his body beneath the blankets and made himself comfortable, closing his eyes. “Wouldn’t be able to get any beauty rest with you hangin’ about.”

Angel smiled when he saw the grin curl at the corner of Spike’s lips. “See you at seven.”

Spike walked into the restaurant, greeting the hostess when he walked past. He and Angel were frequent customers and knew most of the staff; always using the same table nestled in the far back corner. He was running late and knew Angel would already be waiting so he rushed through the large room, nodding as people greeted him. He got closer, close enough to see their table, and that’s when things seemed to start happening in slow motion.

There, sitting across from Angel, facing Spike's direction, was Wesley. He’d never met him, but he knew. A little scruffier than the pictures Angel still kept hidden inside a box in the top of the closet, but it was definitely him. Better looking, in fact. The pictures showed innocence. Clean-cut with glasses, an almost boyish quality, where as now, the two-day old stubble along his chin and jaw line, plus the absence of the eyeglasses, gave the appearance of strength and attitude. Angel’s ex was gorgeous.

Both men stood when he approached and Spike wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. How was he supposed to act casual around someone he felt he was always competing with? When Angel reached for him, drawing him into their usual ‘hey, how was your day’ hug, Spike was stiff in his arms, his fingers clenched in fists around Angel’s back.

Pulling away, Angel said, “Hey, baby. I hope you don’t mind, but I figured since Wes and I have been spending so much time working on his case, it was about time that the two of you met.”

The other man held out his hand to Spike, as if they were friends or something. “Wesley Wyndham Price. Angel’s told me so much about you.”

The sound of his voice, so prim and proper, so… ‘I’m much better than you’ made Spike’s skin crawl. Actually, his accent was a little more upper crust than Spike’s own, but Spike considered the term snobbish to be a better description. When he failed to give his own hand in return, Wesley took the hint and pulled his arm back. Spike turned his gaze on Angel. “Didn’t know this was a reservation for three.”

Angel, appearing much more comfortable than Spike would have liked, answered as he sat back down, “I tried to reach your cell to let you know, but I got your voicemail.”

Spike’s eyes shifted to Wesley as he watched him sit. How long had they been here? Did they arrive separately or share the same car? And what exactly led to Wesley’s invite?

“I hope you don’t mind my interrupting.” The sound of Wesley’s voice caught Spike’s attention. “I’ve been telling Angel it wasn’t fair that I’m stealing an abundance of his time without so much as an introduction and an apology.”

Spike glanced between them and took the chair closest to Angel. “Right.”

“I ordered you a beer,” Angel said, leaning into him.

Spike nodded and tried not to stare too hard at the man sitting across from him. This was the person Angel had shared his life with. The person he’d bought his apartment with. The same apartment Spike was now living in. When Angel and Wesley began to talk, Spike ignored them, more caught up in the thoughts and images swimming inside his head. Thoughts that did nothing to help the situation. He pictured them together in the shower, against the kitchen counter, on the carpet in the sunroom… everywhere he and Angel had made love. He replaced his own face with Wesley’s, picturing the other man lying beneath Angel, screaming as they fucked. Did Wesley scream? Or was he the type to bite his lip and hold in his pleasure when he came? Spike was a screamer and Angel always told him how much it turned him on. So yeah, he’d bet Wesley was the same.

“So, Angel tells me you paint.”

Spike only half heard Wesley talking to him, but rested his eyes on his lips. He wondered if Angel had kissed them recently. “What?”

“Paint?” he repeated. “Angel says you’re a fine artist.”

The waitress appeared with their drinks and Spike greedily took his. “I’ve got it, luv,” he told her, downing a quarter of the bottle before she could pour it into his glass. She nodded and sat the empty glass in front of him. He felt Angel’s hand on his knee and returned to Wesley’s question. “Dabble a bit. Not a bloody Picasso.”

“Well, I suppose not,” Wesley chuckled lightheartedly, “you certainly wouldn’t be working the midnight shift at the docks.”

Spike clenched his jaw. “Nothing wrong with the docks, mate.”

“Oh, c’mon, Spike. He didn’t mean…”

Wesley interrupted before Angel could finish. “I meant any kind of work. I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

Spike shrugged and tipped his bottle to his lips. “I’m sure you weren’t.” Arrogant ponce.

Giving up on the niceties, Wesley turned his attention to Angel and began discussing details of his case. Spike watched and listened, finishing a second beer before dinner had even arrived. They had tuned him out, and he quickly became the third wheel in what was supposed to have been a nice night out for just the two of them.

When the food arrived, Spike ate quickly and silently, watching the way the other men interacted. He listened to the way they talked, the way they finished sentences for each other, reminding him that this wasn’t just a work-related meeting, but also a dinner between old lovers. Wesley was someone who was just as familiar with Angel as he was, if not more. This other man knew his likes, his dislikes, the things that made Angel hum, that made him shiver.

When he caught a glimpse of Angel’s finger brushing tenderly along the side of Wes’s when they both reached for the same roll, Spike excused himself to the bathroom before he made a commotion. Once inside, he paced the length of the room, trying to get his emotions in control. He knew he was acting like a bloody idiot, but how could Angel put him in this situation if he cared anything for him at all? He had to have known how uncomfortable it would be. “I just thought it was time the two of you met,” he mocked, giving his best impersonation of Angel. He leaned against the sink and shook his head at the mirror, sarcastically adding, “Bloody brilliant idea, mate. Why don’t we all have a real nice snog and become best friends?”

Sighing, he took a deep breath, vowing to accept the inevitable. He’d have to play nice and accept that the other man was still alive and part of Angel’s life. Although a gruesome, disfiguring accident… he shook his head and stopped himself before the thought completely surfaced. Although, it gained a sinister smile at any rate. One more glance at his image in the mirror and he left the room, heading straight back into the lion’s cage.

Wesley started in before Spike was fully seated. “So, what’s your opinion, Spike? As much as he’s determined to talk himself out of it, I think it would be wise of Angel to start his own agency. After all, he’s the best private detective in southern California.”

His own agency? When had he started thinking of going out on his own? Spike looked directly at Angel, seeing the blush moving up his cheeks. “And when exactly were you planning on bringing this up?”

Angel shrugged. “Just an idea I’ve been toying with. Ran it past Wes to see what he thought.”

Spike couldn’t hide the expression of annoyance on his face. “Oh, and I wasn’t important enough to ask?”

Angel’s eyes sparked and Spike knew guilt when he saw it. Angel’s expression changed suddenly, as if he was trying to hide it and he explained, “Didn’t want to tell you until I decided if it was something I really wanted. I’m sure you can understand that.”

Spike understood just fine. Angel was sharing important decisions in his life… with his ex. “Yeah. I got it.” Loud and clear.

The look that passed between them was filled with hurt and aggravation. Spike was almost happy he had to work later because he knew it would have been another night for one of them on the couch if he were at home.

After a minute spent in awkward silence, he sighed and then stood up. As much as he hated the idea of leaving Angel and Wesley alone together, he had to get out of there. He was biting back his temper as it was and the fuse was shortening quickly.

“Hope you enjoy your dinner.”

Angel stood up, reaching for Spike’s arm, slowly letting his finger slide down the length of it. “Where are you going? You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Let’s talk about this.”

Wesley stood up, clearing his throat. “I think I’ll… visit the restroom. Leave the two of you to...”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t bother, mate. We’re done.”

Angel grabbed his hand. “Spike…”

“Leave off!” he snapped, pulling away, glancing in Wesley’s direction. “Not exactly the right time for a heart to heart, now is it?”

“Why are you being so pigheaded?”

Spike spun around furiously. “Fuck you, Angel!” he snapped before staring him down and then walking out.

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