Lar ||| Buffy & Angel

The Dating Game I - Kissing On The First Date
by Lar

EMAIL: HERE
DISCLAIMER: Oh please. If I could have a go at Lindsey as my very own, there'd be no writing and no court for damn sure. Sadly, Joss never lets them have as much fun as I do.
COUPLE: A/L
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: After they rescued the children in "Blind Date," don't you wonder what happened between Angel and Lindsey to drive him back to W&H?
DEDICATION: To ethrosdemon for being the Plot Goddess & HRH of Beta, to Sam for helping me over the rough spots, to Pet for making me laugh, to Spyke for the boundless enthusiasm and protective instinct. Nothing but love for you, sweeties.

- - - - -

Angel locks the door behind Wesley, turns off the lights as he walks through the outer office, his own inner office, and steps into the elevator. Thinks about Wesley's words.

//There is a design, Angel. Hidden in the chaos as it may be, but - it's there - and you have your place in it.//

Feels himself wanting to laugh at the idea of having his place in anything, anywhere. Everything he does now feels like it's a waste of effort, waste of time. They saved the children tonight, three innocents to mark in his column of good deeds. Thinks there might be the possibility of a fourth that's on the way to salvation, not an innocent by a long shot, but still and all. A soul is a soul, and Lindsey seems to want redemption this time.

Elevator doors rumble open and Angel hears the shower running. There's a pile of clothes sitting on the floor, and they reek of old blood and some that's fresher. Some that's Lindsey's own. He toes the pile with his foot, sweeps them under a chair. Ambles into the bedroom, closer to the shower the scent of the steam’s rich with layered odors. Sits on the bed, pulls off his boots and the black socks, rubs his bare feet on the carpet and enjoys the prickly sensation of the rough wool on the tired soles. Wonders how long Lindsey’s going to be in the bathroom, and if he's familiar with the whole concept of showering to remove dirt and not skin.

Not that Angel would know anything about that himself. //You might want to let up. They say when you've drawn blood, you've exfoliated.//

He stands finally, walks to the bathroom door, opens it a crack. Waits a beat, opens it further, then further still. Blinks at the sight that greets him.

Lindsey stands naked at the sink staring into the mirror. He's still wet, water puddling under his feet on the tiles, ends of his hair releasing droplets onto his shoulders and down his back. His hands are braced on the damp white marble, and he's leaning forward nose almost against the steamed up surface. He doesn't turn around when Angel steps into the room or reaches into the shower and cuts off the water. He just keeps staring at the blurry, dark smear that’s all his reflection appears to be.

"Lindsey." Angel's voice is quiet in the small room. There's no reply. Tries again. "I can give you some clothes to wear home, call you a cab. You need to get some sleep."

Lindsey turns at that, faces him full on, and Angel notes the still weeping cut on his face, high up by his hairline. "Call me a cab? Go back home where they know where to find me? Damn, Angel." Small snort of laughter and he runs a hand through wet hair, slicks it back from his face again. "You want me dead that bad, why don't you just slit my throat right now?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you think I can just walk out of here, go back to the apartment that Wolfram and Hart rented for me, go lay down in the bed they paid for and wait for the axe to fall? Do you really believe I'll make it past the end of the block?"

Angel blinks for a minute, honestly never considering this eventuality. He's tired, it's getting later than he cares to think about, and he wants Lindsey out of his apartment, out of his life. Doesn't feel like he owes the man anything more than he's already given him - aid in the rescue, the shower and some clothes. The lawyer’s made his choices, and he can learn to live with the consequences. And if he didn't know better, if he couldn't smell the anger and panic coming off Lindsey in vague and shimmery waves, he'd swear there was some kind of ulterior motive for him standing there wet, naked and completely unselfconscious.

"OK, fine, I wasn't thinking about that. You can spend the night on the couch here, I'll be up for the rest of the night. You'll be safe."

"They know where you live, too." Deep sigh and he raises his arms, rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. There's exhaustion in that gesture, Angel recognizes it.

"Yeah, well I'm thinking I might not be their top priority tonight, what with their whole assassination attempt being a failure and all. Clients to pacify, sacrifices to be made. Long enough for you to take a nap."

"You know, for once you're right, you're not their main concern. I'm pretty sure that I'm head of the hit list about now."

Angel leans in the doorway, arms crossed. "Are you afraid of dying, Lindsey?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? Everybody's afraid."

Angel shrugs. "Could be. At least you're not lying to me. For now."

Lindsey steps up closer, licks dry lips and says, "I didn't come to you to die, I came to you for help in getting out. If all you can offer me is Psych 101 and your couch for a few hours, then I might as well head over to the office and offer my head on a platter."

"What do you want me to do here?" Angel is uncomfortably aware of the proximity of Lindsey's body, the way the harsh light of the bathroom paints him in angles and shadows, the heat he radiates despite the wet body and the cool tiles. The smell of blood from the cut on his forehead. He's growing more interested in the conversation than he likes to admit and decides there's no harm in dishing out a little more aggravation while he's got the opportunity. No reason to make things easy for the man who's spent the better part of the last few months trying to see him kissing daylight, sudden attack of morality or not.

"I don't know." Lindsey gestures absently. "You're the soul saver here, you don't have a protocol for this kind of thing?"

"A protocol for evil lawyers who've been trying to have me staked? Sure I do. I pretty much make not giving a damn for their bad luck the top of my agenda." Another careless shrug, half smile twisting his lips.

Bark of laughter, bitter and harsh. "Yeah, and that's all you see, right? Evil lawyer guy, and you don't give a shit that I could have died in there. It'd just be one more acceptable risk, isn't that what you called it?" Hands on his hips now, and he says, "I'd think you'd be more likely to see the chance for people to change than your average, every day former-Scourge. You know, common bonds and all."

Angel says nothing, it's not even worth explaining the million ways that there's so much difference between the two of them. Except that there's not so much right now in the situation they find themselves in, and he wonders what he would have done if he'd had someone to show him the way all those decades ago.

Lindsey steps closer now, not enough space between them to fit a sliver of light, his skin brushing the fabric of Angel's clothing. He tilts his head, offers his neck. "You wanna see me dead? Another bad guy in your column of justice? Go ahead, feed, get it over with."

His eyes are blazingly bright, blue sapphires in his pale face, and when Angel's fingers skirt up the slope of his neck Lindsey flushes but doesn't pull away. Angel rubs his thumb over the pulsing blue jugular, says "You don't know what you're playing with here, Lindsey."

"I'm. Not. Playing." Each word clearly spoken. Angel feels the tremors under his hand, wonders whether it's from the cold bathroom or the chilly fingers on Lindsey's flesh, inhales slightly and finds there's a new tang in the aroma. And this is such a bad idea. So wrong, but he can't seem to put an end to the game yet.

"You feel like you owe me something? You want to pay me back for helping you out tonight, Lindsey?" No answer except the motion of his throat as Lindsey swallows. "I know you've done your research, you've read up on me, on vampires in general. I bet your files are pretty impressive." Lets his fingers walk up and down the expanse of throat, feels the pulse stuttering faster as he does it. "I told you before I could smell terror on you, it's all in the pheromones. What do you think I'm smelling on you now?"

"Yeah, well, I'm past the point of having any secrets here, don't you think? Are we gonna talk some more, make this the lamest guessing game ever?"

Fingers moving around to cup the back of his head now, and Angel tells him, "Last chance to pick the couch."

Angel tightens his fingers in the wet hair, feels the shudder that goes through his body as those blue eyes close, and that is his undoing. Submission inherent in the downcast gaze, odor of lust heady and mixing with the rush of power given over by free will. Knows as he leans into Lindsey that the man is expecting the sharp pain of fangs in his neck, and that still might well happen before the night is over.

Tug on the hair brings his face up, mouth already parted in a half gasp that's cut off with Angel's lips on Lindsey's. Other hand reaching out to grasp his hip, pull him in tight, let Lindsey feel the evidence of arousal he is unable to smell. Brush of lips only at first, Lindsey's mouth pliant but not quite responsive until Angel's tongue flicks out, catches the underside of that full bottom lip, draws it into his mouth and sucks on the warm flesh. Hears Lindsey groan in response, hands coming up to grab at his shirt, hips pressing in tight and hard as Angel's fingers dig into his scalp and the muscles of his hip.

Kiss deepening into something hungry now, mouths open wide, tongues slick and invading. Angel's gone so long without the heat of a body next to his own, and the ferocity of the other man speaks volumes about his solitary life as well. There's a spark of concern, the danger of the curse hanging forever over his head, and he tenses, pulls away. Lindsey's eyes are dark and heavy-lidded when he looks up again.

"What?" Breathless question, and Angel considers how to phrase it.

"I'm not sure this is what either one of us should be doing," he begins, but Lindsey cuts him off with a shove, hands still fisted in the wrinkled material of Angel's shirt.

"Second thoughts? Let me guess, you don't sleep with the enemy. Still got me painted into that same old corner?" Another little shove, press of his hips to accentuate it, and Angel smirks.

"No, actually I was going to mention the curse. Come on Lindsey, you know all about the curse, and the convenient trigger that's built into it." Wraps his hands around Lindsey's shoulders, lets his own hips do a thrust out of their own, rough material of his pants rubbing the hard length that's pressed into him.

"Yeah well, I'm not too concerned about either one of us finding perfect happiness here tonight."

Whatever comment Angel may have planned as a retort - and there was one, Lindsey brings out the insane desire to argue in him like no one else ever has, not even Will - was lost as Lindsey's mouth covers his own, tongue slipping in and licking across teeth, palette, back out to slide over his lips.

Any chance of calling this off long gone now as Angel drags them both towards the bed, turns and pushes Lindsey down onto it so he can lose his own clothes, shirt torn off over his head, pants unzipped and shoved down over his hips, kicked to the corner when they hit the floor. Lindsey lays on his back, propped up on his elbows, watching.

Angel's gaze trips over the lines of the lithe torso spread out before him, smooth chest giving way to the thin line of brown hair below the navel, tangle of wiry curls at the base of the hard cock. Completely at ease with his nudity in a way that Angel finds almost disconcerting. Reminds him of himself if he lets it, his comfort in a skin he's worn unchanging for over two hundred years.

Drops to the bed, Lindsey's legs between his spread knees as he lowers himself over the length of him, thigh meeting thigh, hip bone nestling into the hollow beside Lindsey's, cocks brushing and then pressed between them. Lindsey remains on his elbows as Angel lets himself down further, stomachs, ribcages meeting and they’re face to face. Lindsey's eyes focus on Angel's mouth, parting in anticipation. Angel can see the tip of his tongue hovering right against his top teeth as he waits, warm puffs of air hitting his face with every exhalation.

"You plan on relaxing at any point?" Words spoken into Lindsey's mouth as it opens below his, and Angel lets his weight press down, forces Lindsey to lay back flat on the bed. Shifts to one side just the slightest bit, rolls his hips as he moves. Slow brush of skin on skin, arched back and low moan beneath him, all full of need and want. Slick clean skin, and Angel licks his way from earlobe to jaw line as his hand skims along Lindsey's ribs, into the dip of his waist, rests there. Mouth moving over his collarbone, open lips and slick tongue, nipping bites that make Lindsey shudder and clutch at Angel's hair, neck, the small of his back.

= = = = =

Flood of wetness between them and Lindsey writhes, slick fluid making friction a thing of the past no matter how hard he pumps his hips. Spread his legs as much as he can with Angel's on either side, sighs when Angel moves to accommodate him and presses his knee up higher. Lindsey lets eager fingers wriggle into the space between them as Angel lifts his hips, seeming to anticipate the hot hand Lindsey wraps around him. Shivers as Angel's low groan is added to his own panting in the quiet of the room.

Catches his breath, voice heavy and accent thick in the shell of Angel's ear when he whispers, "Yeah, right there." Gives another tight stroke that causes Angel to echo his first sound of pleasure. Angel's head dips down and captures Lindsey's mouth again, blunt teeth worrying his bottom lip, sucking it until he can feel it swelling and full of blood.

Hand pushing on Angel's shoulder until he reluctantly breaks away, lets Lindsey roll him away onto his back. Lindsey sees the other man's eyes falling closed as he begins to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses from his neck to his chest, stops to flick over his nipple and catch it with his sharp human-teeth. Angel's cock jerks at the sensation, Lindsey smiles against his skin as he moves his mouth over to the other hard bud to lick and nibble there too. Feels Angel’s long fingers threading into his hair, soft noise of protest falling away as Lindsey's mouth moves lower, heat and wetness trailing down, tongue dipping in his navel, lips pressed against his abdomen, the soft rounded hipbone, fingers between his thighs. Two hands now, and they press outward, spread Angel's legs apart wider and Lindsey settles in.

Hasn't done this of his own free will in so long that he can barely remember what it's like. Watches Angel tense in anticipation and gets a tingling thrill that starts in his belly and washes out to every limb. Position of power here, ability to give pleasure of his own choice not at the demand of the partner, spoken or not. It says something to him that Angel didn't ask for this, and he's not sure that he's entirely aware of what the message is. For now it's enough to lower his mouth and enjoy having control.

======

Angel raises his head, looks down in time to see Lindsey's bright gaze on his as he opens his mouth and lowers it over the head of Angel's cock. Tongue flutters over the foreskin, tip pointed and soft, and suddenly fingers are there to slip the skin down before there the heat is back. He can't stop watching the sight of that mouth wrapped around him, intensity of the gaze making sure he's aware of where he is, who he's with. No chance for a random fantasy when he's locked into the cobalt stare that belongs to the one who’s currently driving him insane with lips and tongue, opening his jaw to take Angel into his throat.

Low humming sound and Angel's hand tightens in the sandy-blond hair, tugs him up and away before he comes down that hot throat. Drags him up the length of his body, rolls and fists both their cocks together, palm rolling over the head to gather the pre-come strands that drip from Lindsey's cock, the saliva that's still on Angel's. Three hard strokes and Lindsey is coming, hips high up off the bed, ropey white strands hitting Angel's chest, his own belly and thighs. Two more and Angel joins him, strangled moan and more wet stickiness covering them both. Angel collapses to the bed rolling as he does so that he lands beside Lindsey. They both lie still, Lindsey panting for breath, Angel's chest heaving in unnecessary syncopation.

=====

Lindsey's brain attempts to catch up to his body, complete physical bliss-out countered by the angry thoughts he harbors. Tells himself he is not gonna go down this path again, sympathy fuck from someone he hates because he seems broken and needy, or worse, fucking his way into his savior’s good graces so he'll just tell him worth saving. //What the hell was I thinking tonight?// Panic and need never a good combination for him at anytime, fear for his life making coherent thought an impossibility, more so in Angel’s presence for some unknown reason.

Tells himself how this was such a bad idea. Doesn't want Angel to give him that pathetic 'I'm here for you', placid face he must school on his features every time he sends a hand down to help some dumb lowlife in gutter. //Not gonna exchange one master for another, him always watching my back and expecting me to turn feral at any given second. Expecting me to drop to my knees to repay him. Had enough of that with the firm. Past my cock sucking days.//

Lindsey stirs, heavy eyes closing despite the frantic thoughts that bounce around his head, wicked speed as they ricochet and whine. One shitty alternative stacked against another, and what else is there? Go back and let them eat him for lunch, or be Angel's new crusade and deal with the constant put-downs and sideways glances from his staff? //Not to mention the downgrade in living accommodations and having to live off my savings until it gives out and I have to ask Angel to float me a little cash here and there.//

Tries to imagine actually forming the words to ask for a hand-out from Angel, fails utterly, still raw from the reaction his last plea for help had gotten him. Wonders with no illusions if Angel could *really* save him when the chips were down? //If the boys at the office picked up the Chase girl and told him it's her or me? I'd be bound and gagged before the phone hit the cradle.//

So it comes down to choose for himself, or letting chance choose for him. He thinks he'll make his own decision, continue to rely on the one person he's ever been able to trust, himself. Soon enough, Lindsey's breathing evens out, and in another moment he's drifting into a light sleep, just a few minutes to rest before it's time to get on with gettin' on.

=====

Angel lets his mind wander to all the reasons he knows this was the worst possible thing for him to have done, temptation so long avoided and all too irresistible when it's right there in his face. No threat of the curse kicking in, he knows that, there's no love between the two of them. Doesn't know what it is about Lindsey that sets him off, wires him like a caffeine high, jangles his nerves and makes him feel defensive whenever he's around. Piping voice in the back of his mind whispers that it's been so long since he saw his own reflection, having it walking around in the form of this man is what sends him off the rational path. Too much similarity there for comfort, and he denies it most of the time, but he’s not slow, he knows. Thinks it might even be a test from the Powers.

Sleep beckons Angel, long night and a lot stress on this case, physical and mental, and it's so easy to roll over, steal a modicum body heat from the sleeping man beside him. Knows he'll be gone when daylight comes, probably sooner than that, and takes a large burden of esponsibility for that. Should have put him on the couch, not the first willing victim or pretty mouth and bared neck that's been offered him in all these years, but sometimes his resistance is thinner than others. Can't even use the old chestnut to fall back on, because he's not 'only human' despite his tendency to pick up some of their worst habits as his own.

Drifts off with the scent of Lindsey in his nose, wakes not too much later and isn't surprised to see that he's left, wearing the old bloody clothes and leaving no note. Angel rises, dresses and goes up through the office, locks the front door again. Shrugs on his coat and goes up to the roof of the building, sits on the rough stone edge and wonders what the hell is going to happen now.

-end-



back to top