AUTHORS: dru as Angel & Evil Willow as Lindsey (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)
SERIES: Chance Encounters
PREQUEL TO: Chance Encounters
Version : Lindsey-Angel
PAIRING : Angel/Lindsey
RATING : NC17 (highly slashy
with plenty of salty goodness!)
DISCLAIMER : We do not own these
characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!
NOTE: We wrote this as role-play
on Yahoo! IM! We had *so* much fun! We've co-authored before but never live like this! We hope you enjoy the fruits of
our lab- okay, so it wasn't really *work*. It was more like play!
DEDICATION: This fic is for
Vicky who been cheering us both on for our fics! She's been begging EW for more
Lindsey, and been encouraging me to write him. So we hope she likes this!
=====================================================================
THE BAR
God
I hate this city. I never wanted to come back here again and here I am. And it
sucks. I can't stand the fucking stench of New York. I hate the weather and the
fucking alleys and the rats... god the rats... the worst class of vermin in
existence today. And that just makes up for *half* the fucking population.
God
I need a fuck.
So
what if I got my penthouse apartment in the nicest part of this god-forsaken
city? So what if I'm a success? I'm nothing to anybody who matters. I don't
even have a woman. Not one who I don't have to pay, anyway. That's why I'm in
this bar; don't even remember the name of it. I was hoping to pick up some
half-decent looking girl and take her home for a good old one-night stand. So
far, though, when I look around me, I see the same look in their eyes that I
see when I look in the mirror. Miserable, lonely, and sick of life.
I
need to stop brooding and find a good-looking woman to fuck. I'm beginning to
brood, just like... I'm beginning to brood.
I need
a fuck. I need a drink. But right now, it's the latter I seek. I mean, wouldn't
wanna piss off the fucking Powers! Don't want that! Like it matters now anyway.
Who the fuck cares what they want? They certainly didn't care what *I* wanted.
So what the hell?! It can't be perfect happiness if I'm drunk. Right? Right.
Good. Keep telling yourself that.
I
walk into the first bar I see. I'm Irish. I can do that. We'll drink anything
and anyone under the table. I just want a beer. A cold beer. And then another
one.
I
sit on the bar stool and am sickened by the stench of misery. But I suppose
misery loves company. So what the fuck? "Guinness." I say. "And
keep 'em coming." Maybe if I drink enough, one of these pathetic humans
will start to look good.
I
look over next to me when I hear the voice. It couldn't...I spit out my vodka.
Oh, what the fuck? ANGEL? Fucking ANGEL? The brooding, souled vampire himself?
The torment of two years of my life in L.A.??? What did *I* ever do to... never
mind. I already know the answer to that question.
"Stop
laughing," I grumble to him as he starts. "What the hell are you
doing in my city? Get bored and decide I needed your help again? Well I don't.
Fuck off. Of all the damn bars in the city, I just *HAD* to choose this one. Or
you did. Or ..." I sigh as I realize I'm babbling like an idiot. I gotta
work on my Angel-defenses again, apparently. "You know what? I'll leave.
You. Stay." I glare at him and slide off the stool to my feet. I turn to
go but am stopped by the hand clutching my arm.
I'm
not sure why the hell I grabbed his fucking arm. But I suppose, if I'm gonna be
miserable I might as do the best damn job of it as I can. I'll at least have a
good brood to look forward to later.
"Sit."
I say and he just looks at me, like *I* *wanted* to see him. As if- Oh GOD! I'm
starting to talk like Cordelia! I take another drink. "Sit. Please."
"Only
if you buy me another drink." Okay, that popped out of my mouth before I
could stop it. So either I'm ... flirting, which is possible since I've got
three vodkas in me already, or I'm just trying to make *him* uncomfortable
enough to leave. Yeah, that's it. I'm just playing the mind game, the game that
seems to come so easily, even five years after I last saw him. So I punctuate my
reply with a grin at him, my best 'I'm just an innocent boy from Oklahoma'
smile that makes all the women drool. Hey, this could be fun. The mind game I
mean.
He
thinks I'm a fucking moron. And perhaps I am because I *do* buy him another
drink and we just sit there. Silent. What the hell could I say that wouldn't
seem stupid?
Hi
Lindsey, how's it going? Ever get pulled over by the cops? How'd that whole
Darla thing work out for you? Still got that evil hand? Wanna fuck me with i- I
mean...
Oh
god I'm *so* fucking horny!
He
downs three more vodkas and I take two as well. Drink 'til they're pretty.
That's what someone once told me. Although Lindsey was always prett- fuck, I'm
screwed.
I am
pretty damn surprised when Angel orders me another vodka. More, when I accept
it and sit back down next to him. Three drinks later, I wonder if he's planning
on saying *anything* to me. I mean, yeah, this *is* Angel, but even for him,
he's stoic.
I've
spent the time stealing glances at him and noticing that he's looking as good
as he ever did. Yeah, that's right. I admit to myself only that I think Angel's
a damn sexy man. And the only one I've ever thought that about.
I
wonder if he's ever thought about me, that way? Damn, Lindsey, this had better
be the alcohol talking. Because fucking Angel would not be a good idea. Most
likely, he isn't interested, though, so I probably don't need to worry.
Yeah,
just sit here and drink. His soul will make him realize the lack of nobility in
having drinks with someone who's supposed to be his enemy, eventually. Then
he'll mumble a few excuses (or not) and leave. Until then, just enjoy the free
drinks.
I'm
not sure words are even, or should even, be part of this... this... what?
Drunken stupor? This... hook up? That's what Cordelia calls it, when her
friends go home with someone from a bar. They 'hooked up'. God, that sounds
good right now. I look over at him, again and again, truth be told, and I can't
help but see a little Will in there. The eyes, so deep. I could get lost in
them.
What
am I? A fucking poet? SHIT I'm doomed.
I order and down two more beers and another
two vodkas. Bad bad bad. I seem to vaguely remember the last time I got this
drunk. Something about stealing my father's silver and a blonde woman in an
alley. Not the brightest thing I ever did. No question there.
I
look over at him again. Damn he's gorgeous. More so every time I look over at
him. Okay. I'm actually going to say something to him. Something intelligent.
Something smart and completely logical to say. Okay. Here goes.
"Wanna
fuck?" SHIT!
I
look over at him, occasionally and I can't help enjoying the view. Funny, Darla
told me once that she could tell the moment she saw him that he'd be a good
fuck. And I agreed with her assessment inwardly, even though outwardly I
screamed and threw things.
And
then I spit out my vodka for a second time that night when he finally speaks.
Okay,
Lindsey. Say something. Anything. Maybe he was just trying to get you, with
that question. In a mind game kinda way, not in a fucking you into the bed...
or floor... kinda way.
I
look over at him and he's not laughing.
Usually
I'm the one who propositions, and I must say I do it a whole hell of a lot
smoother than 'Wanna fuck?' But the mental images caused by that simple
question... It's not the alcohol, either, although, yeah, I'm drunk. But I know
where I am and who I'm with and I'm suddenly painfully hard at the thought of
Angel fucking me. Because I have no doubt that's how this would go and I'm
perfectly okay with that. God, I am so screwed.
Shit
I am so fucked over. I mean... from the looks of him... looking at m- No. He looks
down at the floor and I get bad images... oh fuck... I twist in my seat, trying
to will the hard-on that I've got. Fucking Lindsey. As if I've never thought
about it. But-
*Still*
there must have been *some* reason Darla didn't kill him. Perhaps she knew...
she once said that the moment she saw me, she'd knew I'd be a good fuck. She
said she'd never been disappointed.
But...
it's Lindsey. And I'm not drunk enough. Furthermore, he's not drunken enough.
Quick sly cover and a delayed laugh. "I didn't mean... I mean... not *us*.
I meant... like... someone. Else."
"I
mean... hmmm...." I look around the room. "Play pool?" And then
I order some more drinks. Lots of them.
"Pool?"
Okay, my voice is not supposed to be a squeak. I clear my throat and don't look
at him, because I don't want him to see the disappointment in my eyes that he
*didn't* really mean it, after all that internal torment he just put me
through.
"Ya
know, boxer trunks, or not," I say involuntarily as I look him up and
down. SHIT! Stop being such an idiot, Angel! I laugh and look up at him.
"Yes, pool. As in wooden sticks and balls..." Oh fuck!
"How
about darts?" I ask as I order a couple more drinks. They just can't come
fast enough. And neither can I.
Darts,
I don't think so. Having to resist the urge to throw them at him, instead of
the dartboard? Too much a temptation. Besides, if I stand up, he's gonna see my
erection through my really tight blue jeans - brilliant clothing choice, Lins,
really - and then he might figure it out.
"Me
and sharp, pointy objects?" I force a laugh. "Thrilled you trust me
enough with them in your presence, but my hand-eye coordination leaves too much
to be desired. Not in the mood for the humiliation, even as drunk as I
am."
Of
course I didn't really think out this plan. My fucking pants are so god damned
tight, it's fucking unbelievable. And I'm unbelievable relieved when he says
no.
But
then the thought occurs to me that perhaps he has the same problem I do. I take
another drink and turn my bar stool towards him. I place my hand on his upper
thigh and slowly slide it upward with a smirk on my face. "Sure about it?
You sure you don't want me to play your balls?"
I am
*so* fucking drunk. Drunk and screwed. Which if I remember right, is how I
wanted to end up tonight. Great. I'm two for two. Well, almost.
"SHIT,
ANGEL!" Okay, that was a little too loud. And the third vodka that has
been spit out by me, today. I got his hand away before he felt me up, though.
And
now I'm so worked up, I'm actually shaking! Not with rage, though that's
fucking fine with me if he thinks that. No, it's because I want him. Hell, I
don't care if he throws me on the damn bar and fucks me here in front of
everyone. And if he's a vampire, why can't he smell how fucking horny I am???
Do I have to spell it out for him?
I
can't look at him, because this is just too damn weird. So much for pretenses
of just playing mind games. No, there are no mind games now. I want to get
fucked by Angel. To hell with the consequences.
I
*am* gonna get screwed tonight. Rather, *I'm* gonna *screw*. And I'm gonna enjoy it too. Maybe I'll do
him right here on the bar in his spat out vodka.
He
looks away for a second and I pray that vampire speed works through the
alcohol, not that alcohol really affects me *too* much. I mean, I pretty much
killed my liver... but that's not the point.
The
second he looks away, I stick my hand right on his cock and find it hard and
throbbing under his jeans. And by the look in his eye... he likes my hand right
where it is.
"Unnngh."
Yes,
officer, that is a word, I swear. And to hell with the vodka, because the
bartender is seriously getting pissed with my inability to put it into my
stomach. I try to catch my breath and ignore his chuckle in response to my
inability to speak, too.
Okay
Lins, take your hand and remove Angel's..... oh fuck me, which is probably
going to happen, but right now he's actually stroking me through my jeans. And
he's leaned closer but I can't look at him. If I don't look at him, then none
of this is real. There's no place like home. Damn. That didn't work. Now what?
Gods,
I've waited five fucking long years to feel his hard cock under my hands. I'll
be damned if I'm gonna wait five more *minutes* to taste him. I lean over and
brush my lips across his neck while I move my fingers to both rub him a little
and apply pressure.
He
turns his head at the feeling of my lips and I can't help but lean forward and
kiss him. And holy fucking shit!
"HEY!"
The bartender shouts. "Take that shit outside! We don't want your kind
here!"
And
I wonder what kind that is? Vampire? Or horny? But it doesn't fucking matter. I
look at Lindsey's pouty lips and hope to have them wrapped around my cock and
perhaps sucking me later. "What do you say, Lindsey?" I say in a
huskier voice than I intended. "Shall we take it outside?"
Fuck.
Angel's lips on my neck, giving me goose bumps. I turn to say... I don't know
what the hell I wanted to say. But it doesn't matter because he's kissing me.
OH my god, now I'm starting to get it. Why Darla wanted him back, I mean.
Because if he fucks as good as he kisses, I'm going to be one very happy man in
the morning.
I
turn my stool so we're facing and moan as he deepens the kiss.
"HEY!"
I
pull away from Angel to glare at the evil person who just interrupted us.
"Take that shit outside! We don't want your kind here!" the bartender
says.
Okay,
what the fuck kind would *that* be? I wonder, and I hope Angel knows I just
can't let that go. So when he asks me to take it outside, I smile at him.
When
Angel asks if I want to go outside, well, hell yeah. But first things first. I
look over at the bartender with another smile to make sure he's still watching
and then I pull Angel's head to me for another kiss. This time it's my tongue
in *his* mouth and he moans and pulls me closer. The bartender splutters and
threatens but whoever said revenge was sweet wasn't kidding. I pull away
finally, and say, "Yeah, Angel. Let's get outta here. We don't need to be
around 'his kind'," I add, waving my hand in the asshole's direction.
THE ALLEY
Please
say yes. Please say yes. Please say- OH FUCK!
Lindsey's
fucking kissing *me* and he's got his fucking tongue down *my* throat and fuck
me if it doesn't feel damn good. Oh shit!
Damn
it. I need to fuck him.
I
smile at his comment and he follows me out. I wanna take him in the alley. Or
on the sidewalk. Or in the door jam. I'm not specific. I just wanna take him. I
turn and slam him into the wall next to the door we just came out of. I need to
feel him. I grind myself against him as I attack his mouth.
I
whimper - damn, he made me whimper- as he slams me up against the wall and
kisses me. It's a good thing he did, too, because second, third, fourth and
well a bunch of thoughts were surfacing and I was about to turn and run
screaming away from the souled vampire. But now...
Now
I can't remember why I thought this was a bad idea? Because it feels so good
and I can feel his erection rubbing against mine through our clothes. And I
realize, now that he wants me too. Duh, Lins.
I
push him away, not an easy task with a horny vampire. "Angel."
Oh
shit this feels too good. But not when he fucking pushes me away!
"What?" I growl.
"Just..."
I take a deep breath and run my hand through my hair. What, is right. 'What the
fuck are we doing?' 'Slow down a little, because I've never been with another
man, much less a vampire and it's freaking me out a little?' All things I could
say, but I won't. They're too un-Lindsey-like. At least, the Lindsey that Angel
knows. Cool. Collected. Never flustered and never unsure of himself. I lean
back against the wall again and close my eyes, trying to think of something
more Lindsey-like to say. I need to get control of my emotions, here, that much
I know.
See
even when I'm drunk, my very analytical, very logical mind just can't let go of
the situation I'm in. What the hell am I doing?
Gods,
I'm so fucking ready to fuck him into the floor, mattress, car, alley, wall... (again,
I'm not very hard to please. And I'm *really* hoping that Lindsey gets a chance
to find that out.)
Shit,
I *don't* need time to think about this twice. I really just wanna fuck him. I
don't care about why he doesn't want to, or why he doesn't think we should. I
just care about being so far into his body that I can actually *feel* those
reasons.
I
bet all those reasons will feel really fucking good.
"What?"
I ask calmly. I mean, I'd rather have a willing participant.
Damn
him *and* his unbelievable brown eyes straight to hell. And the puppy dog look
he's currently turned on me.
I
swallow hard and say, "I... I can't, Angel. I thought I could,
but..." I shrug and try to walk past him.
"Oh.
No." I say really slowly so there's no mistake. "You're not
leaving." I say. "Because I've waited too fucking long to fuck
you." I catch his arm and pull him back to me, gently this time.
"Besides, I thought you could do anything you want? Or is just when people
wanna *do* you?"
I
look up at his face and have the overwhelming urge to punch that grin off of
it. "You're a really bad drunk, Angel. Fuck you." And I'd leave, but
he's got me pinned against the wall, so I just settle for the 'If looks could
kill' look.
"That's
exactly what I'm planning on doing." I say as I lean in to kiss him
slowly. I lick his lips sensuously as I gyrate my hips, just a little. I mean,
who does he think he's kidding? He should ask Spike. I can seduce anyone.
Lindsey will *not* be the exception. Not tonight. Not ever.
He kisses
me, but this mouth is staying closed. I hold back a moan when he grinds his
hips against mine again. He breaks the kiss with a puzzled look.
"I
said I'm not doing this," I say. "So unless you want to rape--"
Okay, Lins, shut the fuck up. Not only are you pissing off an almost three
hundred year old demon, but you're giving said three hundred year old demon
ideas on what to do with his very drunk enemy. Or to him. Me. Whatever. And I'm
not afraid of Angel. No, not in the least.
I
don't even flinch. He's scared. I know that. I can tell that much. I may not be
able to tell too much, but I know *that* much. He's scared. And fucking horny
as hell. Luckily one doesn't necessarily out weight the other.
I
lean in really close, blow cool air lightly against the apex of his neck before
placing feather light kissing along his collarbone. I run my hands up his arms to
his shoulders and back down before I take his hands and pin them above his
head. I lean in again and brush my lips against him softly.
*This*
feels familiar. I seem to recall one night when I did this with a young English
man. It worked then and it'll work now too. I rub my entire body against him
before licking his lips again. I run my tongue around them and I can tell he's
hesitant, but he doesn't resist too much. He wants it. He just... he's like me.
He needs to be in control.
Too
bad.
"I'm
not gonna rape you, Lindsey." I whisper in his ear as I continue to lick
his beautiful face. I kiss his eyes gently as well, "When you come to *my*
bed, it's gonna be because you want me inside you." I kiss him softly
again as I kiss his jaw. "It's gonna be because you like the feel of me,
kissing you, stroking you... inside and out... It's gonna be because you want
it just as much as I do, if not more."
I
look him up and down, obviously before sliding my hand down to his cock again.
I stroke him through his jeans before looking up again. "But I guess
tonight is not the night." I say simply before stepping back and letting
him go. "Pity, cause I was in the mood for an all-nighter."
Shit.
I'm not moving from this wall, because it's the only thing holding me up at the
moment. I didn't think Angel could be so... tender? Because, don't get me wrong,
the passionate, needy shit was working too, but then I kinda freaked out
because of it. And then he switched gears on me and went all seductive and ...
like I said, I'm not moving from this wall.
He
turns to go and why'd I push him away?
"Wait," I choke out, I hope it was loud enough
for him to hear.
"What?"
I ask before hiding my smile and turning around.
I
stifle the urge to just stake him, never mind the fact I don't have a stake. I
should have known that he wouldn't make this easy for me.
I
take a deep breath and say, "Fuck, Angel. Maybe *I'm* the bad drunk. Can
we just rewind and pretend I didn't have a major attack of stupidity?"
He
just looks at me, his face not giving anything away. I swallow even MORE of my
pride and say, "I ... I want you. And I know you know that. And you *did*
want me, until I decided to open my big mouth and... " I hate him, because
I catch a little hint of laughter behind his eyes. If I didn't want him so
much, I'd just leave. But something tells me this chance encounter is a
one-time-only thing that I shouldn't ignore. Maybe the Powers' way to tell me
I'm not so fucked up, if someone like Angel can want me? Okay, over-thinking
again.
"Doyouwannacomebacktomyplaceforadrink?"
See? That wasn't so hard, was it? Please, say yes. I don't really care if you
don't want to fuck me anymore, I just don't want you to walk away either. Not
yet.
Gods,
it's taking every bit of restraint I have in my being not to just jump him
right here. But that's not what he needs and I suppose even *I* can understand
that. I just... I think he needs to work these things out. Of course I don't
want him to take *too* long in the working things out because I'm drooling.
Hopefully, not obviously.
I
walk back over to him, slowly, wiggling my hips a little too to ease his pain.
He smiles and it's been so long since I've made anyone really smile... it's
nice.
I
walk up to him and lean into him, not pinning him, just leaning into his body.
Warmth. I need that. I want that. I feel his breath on my face and I swear, I
could come right here. "I think..." I say as I nuzzle his nose,
"That we've had enough to drink for one night." I kiss his earlobe
again. "Don't you, Lindsey?"
Part
of me just wants to spend the rest of eternity kissing him like this and the
other part of me knows it can't happen. But for one night?
"But I'll come back to your place." I whisper
into his ear. "And I promise I'll be gentle." I say with a wink as I
pull away.
What do
I say to that? 'Okay?' 'Gee, that's so sweet, Angel?' 'Take me you big hunk of
vampire, you?' Oh, god, that was really, really bad. And I am so drunk. So
instead of turning into a complete idiot I just nod and amazingly I don't fall
to the ground in a heap of... drunk Lindsey... as I walk down the sidewalk
again.
He
follows me and I just can't shake the feeling that he's checking out my ass. I
grin. I've been told it's a really good ass. Yeah, *that's* why I wore the
jeans. I did intend to find someone goodlooking for a one-night stand. So what
if that someone happened to be Angel?
I
turn to make sure he's there, because he is a vampire and he's being quiet. But
he chooses that moment to push me up against the nearest car. But before he can
kiss me the car alarm goes off. We both burst out laughing and head down the
street again.
"My
car's..." I see his raised eyebrow and finish, "not a good
idea," I concede. My apartment's just a block away, anyway."
I
can't help but follow him. Partly because he's the only one of us two who knows
where he lives. But mainly because I've got such a great view! And *that* is
equal parts predator and horny man. Predator because I always study my prey
(and this night it happens to be Lindsey's ass) and horny man because well....
Lindsey's ass.
And I
just can't keep away from him. He turns around and I lunge at him. We crash
into a car and it takes me a good second to figure out what the hell that loud
fucking sound is because the bells in my head never sounded that loud.
"My
car's... not a good idea." He says.
"That,
I'd have to agree with." I say before pulling his hips towards mine to
remind him of why I'm even here. *And* of course to touch his ass again,
because well... Lindsey's ass, as I've already established.
"Lead
the way." I say.
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