Drabble at 2 AM

[menomegirl]

Written for me by gingerpig.

*hearts and flowers*

Oh, yeah--it's Lindsey/Angel.



He recognised that scent. That smell smoke and sage and dew damp dessert sand. There was something else too. Jack Daniels if he wasn't mistaken and he rarely was.

"Lindsey?"

Angry pissed-off voice snarling in the darkness. "Are you fucking stalking me? I turn around and you're there. What? Afraid I ain't left yet?"

Angel moved forward to catch Lindsey, as the bones in his legs felt like they wanted to disintergrate.

"Get the fuck off me! I can walk you know!" Oh, he really didn't need this shit.

"Lindsey, you can't even stand." And walking, pushing him backard slowly so he's resting against the alley wall. Both of their noses wrinkling from the stench

"Tell me you came down here for a reason, Linds. Please." The smell cloying in the back of his throat "I'd love to know."

Lindsey, head back on the brick, his eyes tightly closed, fighting the wave of nausea that's come to make his head spin and make lots of Angels float in front of his face. Shit. The dutch courage had back fired some. Shit! "Oh you know what?" Suddenly finding the clarity he thought once lost. "I'm leavin', you saw to that."

Angel almost felt the air move around the hand that waved in front of his face.

"So why don't you just fuck me." Stunned silence. Lindsey blinked. "Off." Shaking his head to clear it. "Why don't you just fuck off?"

Angel grinned, and it looked feral."You said fuck me."

Lindsey tipped his chin up in the trademark of bravado. "Well, I didn't mean it."

A chuckle of mirth followed. "Why don't we see if you did or not, hmmm, Lindsey?"

And finding that Angels mouth does taste like molasses and coffee and deep dark sin and that he wants it more than anything.

Wants his pants open, the sharp brick digging in his back as he's pressed into the wall. Tongues and teeth and fuck fangs on sensitive flesh and he really did not just hear Angel growl, did he?

Being turned and hands and cool lips are under his shirt and pulling at it tearing it and he really did hear Angel growl and when did he stop breathing?

Hands and fingers and sharp burning clenching wet heat and fuck that feels good and bad and more and stop and if you do I will stake your ass.

Head falling back to rest on a hard chest and more and damn and too full too fast and fuck and now I'm going to die.

The pull from the freshly punctured vein tips the balance and his knees are no longer weak from the whiskey.

His dying thought that maybe this wasn't such a bad way to go.

Comments

[ckanerock.livejournal.com]

Very nice. Ending caught me by surprise but still.....:)

Thanks for sharing Dee Dee and tell gp 'thanks' for trying to re-ignite your Lindsey love. You really should get back into writing him. You totally rock!

And 'no' - I'm not hinting for you to tag over at Anniversary. Just tickling you.

((hugs))

[strangecreature.livejournal.com]

Whoa...yup, the ending certainly isn't predictable, huh? *blink-stare* Love the Freudian slip!

Thanks for sharing!