Angel dismissed the offer with a gesture, still glaring at Spike. Wasn't it bad enough that they were stuck together like this? Why did he have to pretend like he had no part to play in what had been happening to Angel lately?
"They weren't after me because of my baggage, they were after me because apparently I'm a gay pervert who will try to get them alone in the locker room showers."
Yeah, Spike laughed very helpfully. With a snort, he lit up a fag and leaned against some boxes. "Look, mate, that's not on me. I told you to leave Dru alone. And you didn't. Could have made it much worse. You should be grateful."
Spike grinned a smug grin as he exhaled smoke in Angel's direction. "I planned to Photoshop you and that weird roommate into some gay BDSM stuff. Just saying."
Angel was sorely tempted to get up and beat the hell out of Spike, and maybe he could have too, but then again his ribs were quite sore and he was just tired. So he stayed where he was, and closed his eyes against the sight of that grin with a sigh.
"Nothing, he's all right but he's sharing a room with you, seemed like an obvious move." Spike pushed off from the boxes and came over to Angel, standing at his feet and looking down at him. "Got to torture you, we both know it. It's karma, captain forehead. You started this."
He's just continuing it. Not making a move, he looked down at Angel and idly inspected his state. It was weird to see consequences of his dumb prank honestly. "You're not like... actually hurt, right?"
That actually got an almost helpless sort of chuckle out of Angel, quickly followed by a wince because ow.
Spike did kind of have a point, though, in his own way. It was no more than he deserved to have someone around that made sure he never got too far away from the things he'd done in the past.
"Define actually hurt."
He opened his good eye again, and there was a sort of twinkle in it that didn't really go with his usual brooding, and the slight upturn of one corner of his mouth was definitely straight out of his old bag of tricks, back when he still thought he was quite a charming motherfucker.
"I can believe it, I've hit you before." He had to ice his damn hand afterwards. Coming over, he dropped down beside Angel and sat down, spreading his legs out and putting his cigarette out on the wall. It was pretty dark in here but his eyes were adjusting, he could just about see Angel.
See that smirk, the confidence through the pain. He did admire that a little, no lie.
"Do you think they were more bothered by the gay porn or the nun kink? Cause honestly one is less my problem and more societies." He didn't make people homophobic! Just sent them after Angel.
"Definitely the gay porn. If I'm into men it obviously means I have a compulsion to invade every ass on campus, theirs included."
They had these moments every once in a while, when they actually managed to just... talk to each other. Every time, it surprised Angel how much he enjoyed it, even though Spike remained a colossal pain in the ass.
He would of course prefer to have his nails pulled out with hot pincers over actually telling Spike that, though.
"Which is ironic given how all over each other jocks are on this bloody campus. Practically spanking each others arses after every game." It was pretty damn gay. Not that anyone seemed to care when they did it, just when guys like them got the bad end of a rumour. It had happened to Spike a few times himself.
It was nice to talk. Almost peaceful. And the darkness did make it easier to pretend, to forget his Angelus baggage and just talk to him for five minutes.
Not that he was desperate for it... Just kind of liked it, was all. "Got a plan to get us out of here? You're the one that does all the thinking. Bores me, that. Always get tired of thinking."
"Maybe they just don't want to have to admit that to themselves."
A plan. Yeah. He should probably try to work on one of those, but his whole head was pounding with pain at this point and honestly he didn't really want to do anything other than just sit there in the dark and ignore the world for a little while.
"As for getting out, I guess we could try calling for help. And then maybe give kicking down the door a go."
It wasn't terribly creative, he was more than willing to admit that, but sometimes it was best to just keep things simple.
"Bugger that, I'm not screaming out like some nancy boy and I ain't feeling like bashing up the door. That's a lot of effort and I really can't be arsed." That and he doesn't think he can do it so he doesn't want to feel like a weakling in front of Angel. It's always easier to pretend he's a man around Angel, easier than being young and weak - that was exploitable.
And fuck that, he won't let that happen.
"Looks like we're stuck for a few, eh?" Idly, he pulled a flask from his jacket and took a sip, offering it out to Angel silently.
"Oh yeah, I do. Hang on, lemme see if I've got battery."
Spike pulled out his phone and, of course, his screen was smashed thanks to one drunken night out. It still worked but it looked a right state. "Not in the best nick but lookie, still got myself 48%."
He pulled up his contacts and scrolled along. "Who'd we call?"
"Gay." Spike just called it like he saw it. "Whatever, call your lover boy. Give Percy my love." He tossed his phone to Angel dismissively. If he wanted to call his boyfriend, he could. Dru never looked at her phone and often just danced when it rang and .... and that was all the people he could call in a crisis.
Honestly all Angel could do as he dialed what he hope was Wes's number was hope that he got this right, because he didn't actually know all that many numbers by heart that could be useful in this situation.
"You try to punch me in the face whenever I talk to your girlfriend so you have no business calling anyone too intense."
For once, this was actually said with a bit of a smile.
"No, Wes, not you, I was talking to Spike. Listen, we're locked in some kind of storage room somewhere on campus, you think you could maybe come and find us?"
"It's not the same." He had to protect Dru. Always. Angel had gotten her hurt before, he didn't want to risk it ever happening again. Irrational? Sure. But he didn't care.
"Do you need the key? I'll have to track one down. Luckily, as Hall monitor, I have access to the maintenance keys."
"He said that like a brag. Tell Percy that's not a brag."
"I'm on my way!"
"Oh, fantastic. Perfect Percy is coming to our rescue." Well, it was something. Spike tilted his head back. "Helping you come out of the closet."
Edited (a mistake has been made!!!) 2018-07-06 12:55 (UTC)
Angel shook his head a little, both at his own near slip of the tongue and Spike's insistence on staying with the whole "Angel is a flaming rainbow champion" thing.
"Cause... I dunno. Whatever. He's a bit of nancy boy, don't you think? I mean. Like. Have you seen his bloody hair? And those glasses? Right loser, ain't he?" Or, you know, he's just going to casually attack all the things about Wesley that remind him of himself. Or, more accurately, William.
And no one hates himself like Spike hates himself. They can try, they get pretty darn close, but they never quite reach it.
"And yet you like him? Bullshit. I'd warn him." Spike remembered what Angelus did to his stamp collection, his books, journal and all the shit he'd said. Mindless bullying but it only grew. And then came the things he did to Dru. William could never protect Dru - Spike could.
That's why he changed.
"You know, I never did much like you, Liam." Ha. There. He said it first. Taking a sip from his hip flask, he exhaled slowly. "Always thought you were a bit of a dick."
"What can I say? You're the one who made me, aren't you? I guess I'm sort of like your punishment, ain't I? Me and Drusilla. The rest of the world doesn't care and you want to forget but ..."
But Spike can't. He knew it was irrational and kind of crazy but he just couldn't stop himself.
"I can't so why should you?"
Petty but whatever. "You were supposed to be --whatever, doesn't matter." His friend. His mentor. Other things. Whatever.
"Do you seriously think I will ever be able to forget?"
What a preposterous notion, to think that he could ever get away from the things he's done.
"What was I supposed to be?"
Might as well hear another way in which he failed. He's always been so very good at not being what people want him to be. The only person he ever came close to pleasing was probably Darla, but he would never claim that with any amount of confidence.
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"They weren't after me because of my baggage, they were after me because apparently I'm a gay pervert who will try to get them alone in the locker room showers."
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Spike grinned a smug grin as he exhaled smoke in Angel's direction. "I planned to Photoshop you and that weird roommate into some gay BDSM stuff. Just saying."
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"What did Wes ever do to you?"
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He's just continuing it. Not making a move, he looked down at Angel and idly inspected his state. It was weird to see consequences of his dumb prank honestly. "You're not like... actually hurt, right?"
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Spike did kind of have a point, though, in his own way. It was no more than he deserved to have someone around that made sure he never got too far away from the things he'd done in the past.
"Define actually hurt."
He opened his good eye again, and there was a sort of twinkle in it that didn't really go with his usual brooding, and the slight upturn of one corner of his mouth was definitely straight out of his old bag of tricks, back when he still thought he was quite a charming motherfucker.
"You should see the other guys."
Could he have resisted the cheesy cliché? Yes, but why on earth would he do that? Sometimes even martyrs can allow themselves to have a little fun.
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See that smirk, the confidence through the pain. He did admire that a little, no lie.
"Do you think they were more bothered by the gay porn or the nun kink? Cause honestly one is less my problem and more societies." He didn't make people homophobic! Just sent them after Angel.
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They had these moments every once in a while, when they actually managed to just... talk to each other. Every time, it surprised Angel how much he enjoyed it, even though Spike remained a colossal pain in the ass.
He would of course prefer to have his nails pulled out with hot pincers over actually telling Spike that, though.
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It was nice to talk. Almost peaceful. And the darkness did make it easier to pretend, to forget his Angelus baggage and just talk to him for five minutes.
Not that he was desperate for it... Just kind of liked it, was all. "Got a plan to get us out of here? You're the one that does all the thinking. Bores me, that. Always get tired of thinking."
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A plan. Yeah. He should probably try to work on one of those, but his whole head was pounding with pain at this point and honestly he didn't really want to do anything other than just sit there in the dark and ignore the world for a little while.
"As for getting out, I guess we could try calling for help. And then maybe give kicking down the door a go."
It wasn't terribly creative, he was more than willing to admit that, but sometimes it was best to just keep things simple.
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And fuck that, he won't let that happen.
"Looks like we're stuck for a few, eh?" Idly, he pulled a flask from his jacket and took a sip, offering it out to Angel silently.
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Angel's words implied an intention to act, but what he ended up doing was just accepting the flask and taking a sip from it.
Look. Sometimes you just have to take a break.
"I don't suppose you have a phone on you?"
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Spike pulled out his phone and, of course, his screen was smashed thanks to one drunken night out. It still worked but it looked a right state. "Not in the best nick but lookie, still got myself 48%."
He pulled up his contacts and scrolled along. "Who'd we call?"
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Because yes, Angel was most certainly the kind of person who still memorised phone numbers.
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He didn't exactly have friends. He just had Dru.
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Honestly all Angel could do as he dialed what he hope was Wes's number was hope that he got this right, because he didn't actually know all that many numbers by heart that could be useful in this situation.
"Gay."
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And this was a guy who dated Drusilla. Make of this what you will. Wesley did pick up, of course he did. It took two rings before he eagerly answered.
"See, look, intense. No one picks up that quickly."
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For once, this was actually said with a bit of a smile.
"No, Wes, not you, I was talking to Spike. Listen, we're locked in some kind of storage room somewhere on campus, you think you could maybe come and find us?"
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"Do you need the key? I'll have to track one down. Luckily, as Hall monitor, I have access to the maintenance keys."
"He said that like a brag. Tell Percy that's not a brag."
"I'm on my way!"
"Oh, fantastic. Perfect Percy is coming to our rescue." Well, it was something. Spike tilted his head back. "Helping you come out of the closet."
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Angel shook his head a little, both at his own near slip of the tongue and Spike's insistence on staying with the whole "Angel is a flaming rainbow champion" thing.
"Why do you call him that?"
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And no one hates himself like Spike hates himself. They can try, they get pretty darn close, but they never quite reach it.
"S'funny, is all."
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The kid that looked up to him and that he proceeded to be a terrible influence on before breaking his heart by playing a role in Dru's suffering.
Maybe that was why he took to Wes so easily. It was a chance to get things right.
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That's why he changed.
"You know, I never did much like you, Liam." Ha. There. He said it first. Taking a sip from his hip flask, he exhaled slowly. "Always thought you were a bit of a dick."
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No one calls him that anymore, not since his family died. Not that he expects any sympathy from Spike when it comes to any of that.
"I always was."
No use denying that.
"You're doing great at picking up the slack now that I'm trying to stop."
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But Spike can't. He knew it was irrational and kind of crazy but he just couldn't stop himself.
"I can't so why should you?"
Petty but whatever. "You were supposed to be --whatever, doesn't matter." His friend. His mentor. Other things. Whatever.
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What a preposterous notion, to think that he could ever get away from the things he's done.
"What was I supposed to be?"
Might as well hear another way in which he failed. He's always been so very good at not being what people want him to be. The only person he ever came close to pleasing was probably Darla, but he would never claim that with any amount of confidence.
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