Fic: Thorny Path (kinda Angel/Lindsey) R
Title: Thorny Path
Pairing: Angel/Lindsey (kinda)
Rating: NC17
Timeline: S1 during "Blind Date", prior to the tag.
Spoilers: Not Fade Away
Written for coiledsoul who wanted: Lindsey/Angel. Any rating, but maybe in S1 during the part of the season when Lindsey has his crisis of faith with WR&H.
Thanks to Ruby for helping me smooth out a transition, and Lar for supplying a line of snark.
*
Wes and Cordelia are taking the young seers to their mentor. Lindsey's just watched them drive away in Angel's Plymouth while Angel stands next to him outside of the safe house. Lindsey doesn't know where the kids are going because Team Angel didn't think he could be trusted with the information. Lindsey doesn't much care about the whys, he's just glad that no mind readers will get the information from him. Whatever Angel and his lackeys think of Lindsey, the truth is that Lindsey does want those kids safe. So let them cut him out of the loop; it gives them all peace of mind.
Angel stares down the street and, without looking at Lindsey, asks, "Did this even make a difference for you, Lindsey? Was it really the life-altering experience you thought it was going to be?"
"Fuck you," Lindsey mutters, then, louder, "You know, I didn't have to go to you, and I didn't have to save those kids. You'd think that doing so would count for something."
"It's a very small first step. Miniscule. Actually, it might be the preparation for the first step."
And Lindsey hates Angel in that moment. For the first time ever he doesn't just feel strong dislike for the bastard vampire-with-a-soul who's been the bane of his work life since Russell Winters took that swan dive. No, right then Lindsey truly hates Angel, and years later he'll be falling to a floor, his chest riddled with bullets implanted in him by another of Angel's lackeys, and Lindsey will realize that it all started right here. Not with his hand getting chopped off, not with Darla, but right here. This moment, where Angel makes it seem like it's impossible for Lindsey to change sides because Lindsey's not as worthy as a mass murdering, evil, soulless vampire.
"Being good isn't about one act, you know," Angel starts lecturing, and Lindsey tunes him out because he's not in the mood for being lectured at, or spoken down to, or, well, anything. Except maybe panicking over how far the Senior Partners will go to hunt him down and make him pay for this "one act" that Angel has such an easy time dismissing.
Lindsey rubs a hand across his forehead and decides it's time to get his shit in order in case he's killed sometime soon. He turns on his heel while Angel's still talking and starts down the street towards his car, which is parked about a mile away.
"Too much for you to handle, Lindsey?" Angel calls out.
"You know what?" Lindsey hisses and turns around again. "You can take your pious act and shove it up your ass. Hate to break it to you, Champion, but your role in the grand scheme of things? Not as clearly defined as you seem to think it is. Instead of feeling all high and mighty, why don't you give that some thought and leave me the hell alone? I've got to figure out a way to get away from Wolfram and Hart with my life."
Angel stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat and looks up at the sky. "'Wah wah, my boss might kill me! Wah wah!' God, do you do anything besides whine?"
Lindsey's jaw tightens. "Yeah, on the same days you do something other than spout off like you're better than the rest of the world. For the last time: fuck off, Angel."
"We both know how this is going to go," Angel says steadily, looking at Lindsey again. His face is blank and serious. "You're going back and you'll stay there. What I can't figure out as I listen to you be all sanctimonious is if you're playing yourself or trying to play me."
"I'm always up for games, Angel, but not when they involve my life being on the line. I'm not playing anyone."
Angel nods slowly. "Yourself, then."
"For fuck's sake," Lindsey growls, hands tangling in his hair in frustration. "I'm leaving. Now. Goodbye and don't let the sunrise kick you in the ass on the way home." Lindsey considers that and shrugs as his hands fall to his sides again. "Or, you know, let it and free us all from your holier-than-thou shit; whichever."
Lindsey makes it two blocks before he feels Angel's presence looming behind him like some kind of harbinger of death and doom and boring lectures. His hulking shadow is cast by the streetlights behind them, obscuring Lindsey's from view. "I'll beg you to leave me alone if that would help," Lindsey grinds out.
"I like begging," Angel says brightly, in that tone of voice that makes him sound like a dimwit and pisses the hell out of Lindsey because it's fake as fuck. Angel's not always the brightest bulb on the tree, but he's not a moron, either. "You know, I once spent thirteen straight days listening to this pretty young Russian girl beg. I told her if she could do it non-stop for eighteen days I'd let her go."
"Eighteen days?" Lindsey asks in confusion.
Angel's still behind him, but Lindsey sees the one-shouldered shrug reflected in the black of Angel's shadow. "Random number. Of course, she couldn't do it. Got halfway through day fourteen and the loss of blood, and lack of food and water, took its toll."
"That's a very uplifting story," Lindsey drawls. "Damn inspiring, too. Tell me again how I can be more like you, oh great and wondrous Champion."
"Don't worry, you're halfway there. Got the evil part down pat. It's the good part you'll never get to. Which would be a shame if I actually gave a damn about you."
Lindsey rolls his eyes and decides against telling Angel that his self-indulgent choosing of who he cares to save is part of why his fate is up in the air. Instead he says, "For someone who doesn't give a damn about me, you're sure having a hard time letting me go off on my own."
"What can I say; it's fun to irritate you. Highlight of my day, making that vein on your forehead pop out."
Lindsey's hand goes to his forehead automatically, and damn if that fucking vein isn't there. Fucktard. "Or maybe you're following me around because you want to stare at my ass."
And he doesn't know where *that* came from. Really. No idea. But he braces himself for whatever sharp, digging, nasty retort Angel's going to toss at him, because no way in hell will Angel let an opportunity to humiliate Lindsey pass.
"Sorry, was I supposed to not notice the way you've been staring at mine whenever you thought I wasn't looking?" He makes a tutting sound and shakes his head. "Subtle's really not your strong suit."
Lindsey closes his eyes briefly. Maybe he should start gagging himself when he's around Angel, because he always says more than he wants to and the bastard doesn't miss anything, especially not the shit Lindsey wants him to miss.
"In your dreams, Angel," Lindsey drawls casually, and he makes sure to lace contempt and disgust and amusement into his tone.
The shadow that's cast over Lindsey's moves, and Angel is next to him all of a sudden, the movement so quick that Lindsey blinks in startled surprise. "Actually," Angel says in a low voice, "in those you're bound, gagged, bleeding and you love it as much as you hate it."
Lindsey comes to stop that's so sudden he almost topples to the ground. And he thought *his* comment had come out of nowhere. Angel is disdaining and contemptuous and mocking towards Lindsey. He is not predatorily sexual. Just...no. Lindsey's finding it a little disturbing, to be honest. He backs up a few steps and frowns.
"What did you just say?" he chokes out.
"You heard me," Angel murmurs, then moves in front of Lindsey and inhales deeply. He tilts his head to the side and studies Lindsey for a moment. "Shameful lust," he says with some surprise. "Huh. Smells even better on you than mortal terror does. Kind of makes me wonder what both at the same time would be like."
The look on his face shifts, and it's a deliberate shift, so that he's looking down at Lindsey with eyes gone slightly yellow, lips pulled into a careless smirk, and body hard and wide. Lindsey knows that Angel could break him in half with one hand tied behind his back, he's that strong and that good. He also knows that Angel probably wants to do just that.
"Yeah," Angel says, and it sounds like an absent-minded sigh. "That's the stuff. Right there. Robust and full-bodied. But it's missing something..."
And a split-second later Angel's holding Lindsey off the ground by his shirt and shoving him against a storefront. Lindsey's heart starts pounding and his body starts struggling against Angel's grip.
"Adrenaline," Angel says appreciatively. "Adds that special something to the mix."
He opens his fists and Lindsey slips down, catching himself in a crouch instead of landing on his back on the ground. And maybe he should have just let himself fall, because now he's eye-level with Angel's crotch, and Angel's staring down at him with smug amusement, and a challenge in the twist of his lips that's like a dare.
And Lindsey considers it. Considers opening that zipper and pulling Angel out, right here on the street. Considers sucking the bastard's brains out through his dick and leaving him a shaking shuddering mess.
Except, Lindsey doesn't think that's how it'd go. Somehow, someway, Angel would be the steady one, and Lindsey would be the shaking shuddering mess. And Angel would flounce away in all his righteous glory, after looking down at Lindsey and saying something about how the good guys don't get to their knees in the middle of the street and blow other guys, and Lindsey would end up slamming his head into the brick face of the storefront while jacking himself off like a pathetic fuck.
Angel's hips twitch, just the slightest bit, towards Lindsey, and Lindsey considers it some more, because there's a chance he could come out of this on top. But then he looks up at Angel and remembers that Angel's got the power here, and that Angel walks the thorny path of the righteous, which has callused and hardened him as much as it's torn his skin open.
Lindsey stands up from his crouch and looks down the street. "We done here?"
After a long pause Angel says, "For now, I guess."
.End
Pairing: Angel/Lindsey (kinda)
Rating: NC17
Timeline: S1 during "Blind Date", prior to the tag.
Spoilers: Not Fade Away
Written for coiledsoul who wanted: Lindsey/Angel. Any rating, but maybe in S1 during the part of the season when Lindsey has his crisis of faith with WR&H.
Thanks to Ruby for helping me smooth out a transition, and Lar for supplying a line of snark.
*
Wes and Cordelia are taking the young seers to their mentor. Lindsey's just watched them drive away in Angel's Plymouth while Angel stands next to him outside of the safe house. Lindsey doesn't know where the kids are going because Team Angel didn't think he could be trusted with the information. Lindsey doesn't much care about the whys, he's just glad that no mind readers will get the information from him. Whatever Angel and his lackeys think of Lindsey, the truth is that Lindsey does want those kids safe. So let them cut him out of the loop; it gives them all peace of mind.
Angel stares down the street and, without looking at Lindsey, asks, "Did this even make a difference for you, Lindsey? Was it really the life-altering experience you thought it was going to be?"
"Fuck you," Lindsey mutters, then, louder, "You know, I didn't have to go to you, and I didn't have to save those kids. You'd think that doing so would count for something."
"It's a very small first step. Miniscule. Actually, it might be the preparation for the first step."
And Lindsey hates Angel in that moment. For the first time ever he doesn't just feel strong dislike for the bastard vampire-with-a-soul who's been the bane of his work life since Russell Winters took that swan dive. No, right then Lindsey truly hates Angel, and years later he'll be falling to a floor, his chest riddled with bullets implanted in him by another of Angel's lackeys, and Lindsey will realize that it all started right here. Not with his hand getting chopped off, not with Darla, but right here. This moment, where Angel makes it seem like it's impossible for Lindsey to change sides because Lindsey's not as worthy as a mass murdering, evil, soulless vampire.
"Being good isn't about one act, you know," Angel starts lecturing, and Lindsey tunes him out because he's not in the mood for being lectured at, or spoken down to, or, well, anything. Except maybe panicking over how far the Senior Partners will go to hunt him down and make him pay for this "one act" that Angel has such an easy time dismissing.
Lindsey rubs a hand across his forehead and decides it's time to get his shit in order in case he's killed sometime soon. He turns on his heel while Angel's still talking and starts down the street towards his car, which is parked about a mile away.
"Too much for you to handle, Lindsey?" Angel calls out.
"You know what?" Lindsey hisses and turns around again. "You can take your pious act and shove it up your ass. Hate to break it to you, Champion, but your role in the grand scheme of things? Not as clearly defined as you seem to think it is. Instead of feeling all high and mighty, why don't you give that some thought and leave me the hell alone? I've got to figure out a way to get away from Wolfram and Hart with my life."
Angel stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat and looks up at the sky. "'Wah wah, my boss might kill me! Wah wah!' God, do you do anything besides whine?"
Lindsey's jaw tightens. "Yeah, on the same days you do something other than spout off like you're better than the rest of the world. For the last time: fuck off, Angel."
"We both know how this is going to go," Angel says steadily, looking at Lindsey again. His face is blank and serious. "You're going back and you'll stay there. What I can't figure out as I listen to you be all sanctimonious is if you're playing yourself or trying to play me."
"I'm always up for games, Angel, but not when they involve my life being on the line. I'm not playing anyone."
Angel nods slowly. "Yourself, then."
"For fuck's sake," Lindsey growls, hands tangling in his hair in frustration. "I'm leaving. Now. Goodbye and don't let the sunrise kick you in the ass on the way home." Lindsey considers that and shrugs as his hands fall to his sides again. "Or, you know, let it and free us all from your holier-than-thou shit; whichever."
Lindsey makes it two blocks before he feels Angel's presence looming behind him like some kind of harbinger of death and doom and boring lectures. His hulking shadow is cast by the streetlights behind them, obscuring Lindsey's from view. "I'll beg you to leave me alone if that would help," Lindsey grinds out.
"I like begging," Angel says brightly, in that tone of voice that makes him sound like a dimwit and pisses the hell out of Lindsey because it's fake as fuck. Angel's not always the brightest bulb on the tree, but he's not a moron, either. "You know, I once spent thirteen straight days listening to this pretty young Russian girl beg. I told her if she could do it non-stop for eighteen days I'd let her go."
"Eighteen days?" Lindsey asks in confusion.
Angel's still behind him, but Lindsey sees the one-shouldered shrug reflected in the black of Angel's shadow. "Random number. Of course, she couldn't do it. Got halfway through day fourteen and the loss of blood, and lack of food and water, took its toll."
"That's a very uplifting story," Lindsey drawls. "Damn inspiring, too. Tell me again how I can be more like you, oh great and wondrous Champion."
"Don't worry, you're halfway there. Got the evil part down pat. It's the good part you'll never get to. Which would be a shame if I actually gave a damn about you."
Lindsey rolls his eyes and decides against telling Angel that his self-indulgent choosing of who he cares to save is part of why his fate is up in the air. Instead he says, "For someone who doesn't give a damn about me, you're sure having a hard time letting me go off on my own."
"What can I say; it's fun to irritate you. Highlight of my day, making that vein on your forehead pop out."
Lindsey's hand goes to his forehead automatically, and damn if that fucking vein isn't there. Fucktard. "Or maybe you're following me around because you want to stare at my ass."
And he doesn't know where *that* came from. Really. No idea. But he braces himself for whatever sharp, digging, nasty retort Angel's going to toss at him, because no way in hell will Angel let an opportunity to humiliate Lindsey pass.
"Sorry, was I supposed to not notice the way you've been staring at mine whenever you thought I wasn't looking?" He makes a tutting sound and shakes his head. "Subtle's really not your strong suit."
Lindsey closes his eyes briefly. Maybe he should start gagging himself when he's around Angel, because he always says more than he wants to and the bastard doesn't miss anything, especially not the shit Lindsey wants him to miss.
"In your dreams, Angel," Lindsey drawls casually, and he makes sure to lace contempt and disgust and amusement into his tone.
The shadow that's cast over Lindsey's moves, and Angel is next to him all of a sudden, the movement so quick that Lindsey blinks in startled surprise. "Actually," Angel says in a low voice, "in those you're bound, gagged, bleeding and you love it as much as you hate it."
Lindsey comes to stop that's so sudden he almost topples to the ground. And he thought *his* comment had come out of nowhere. Angel is disdaining and contemptuous and mocking towards Lindsey. He is not predatorily sexual. Just...no. Lindsey's finding it a little disturbing, to be honest. He backs up a few steps and frowns.
"What did you just say?" he chokes out.
"You heard me," Angel murmurs, then moves in front of Lindsey and inhales deeply. He tilts his head to the side and studies Lindsey for a moment. "Shameful lust," he says with some surprise. "Huh. Smells even better on you than mortal terror does. Kind of makes me wonder what both at the same time would be like."
The look on his face shifts, and it's a deliberate shift, so that he's looking down at Lindsey with eyes gone slightly yellow, lips pulled into a careless smirk, and body hard and wide. Lindsey knows that Angel could break him in half with one hand tied behind his back, he's that strong and that good. He also knows that Angel probably wants to do just that.
"Yeah," Angel says, and it sounds like an absent-minded sigh. "That's the stuff. Right there. Robust and full-bodied. But it's missing something..."
And a split-second later Angel's holding Lindsey off the ground by his shirt and shoving him against a storefront. Lindsey's heart starts pounding and his body starts struggling against Angel's grip.
"Adrenaline," Angel says appreciatively. "Adds that special something to the mix."
He opens his fists and Lindsey slips down, catching himself in a crouch instead of landing on his back on the ground. And maybe he should have just let himself fall, because now he's eye-level with Angel's crotch, and Angel's staring down at him with smug amusement, and a challenge in the twist of his lips that's like a dare.
And Lindsey considers it. Considers opening that zipper and pulling Angel out, right here on the street. Considers sucking the bastard's brains out through his dick and leaving him a shaking shuddering mess.
Except, Lindsey doesn't think that's how it'd go. Somehow, someway, Angel would be the steady one, and Lindsey would be the shaking shuddering mess. And Angel would flounce away in all his righteous glory, after looking down at Lindsey and saying something about how the good guys don't get to their knees in the middle of the street and blow other guys, and Lindsey would end up slamming his head into the brick face of the storefront while jacking himself off like a pathetic fuck.
Angel's hips twitch, just the slightest bit, towards Lindsey, and Lindsey considers it some more, because there's a chance he could come out of this on top. But then he looks up at Angel and remembers that Angel's got the power here, and that Angel walks the thorny path of the righteous, which has callused and hardened him as much as it's torn his skin open.
Lindsey stands up from his crouch and looks down the street. "We done here?"
After a long pause Angel says, "For now, I guess."
.End