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Encounter by Rubywisp Pairing: Angel/Lindsey Rating: NC-17 Summary:Angel and Lindsey meet. Spoilers:For the first episode of "Angel" only. Distribution: My site, list archives. You want it, email me. Disclaimer: Joss is God, Numfar owns all. A/N:For Angel-jade. I didn't know I wanted to read A/L, much less write it. Thank you. --- Angel walks into the nightclub and pauses just inside the door, taking a moment to adjust to the overwhelming myriad of smells and sounds that assault his senses. Looks around, trying to decide where to go, where to stand -- should he sit at a table or lean up against the bar? He settles on up against the bar. He moves, but not fast enough, grunting slightly as a man -- obviously already drunk -- stumbles into him as he enters the club. Apologizes, receives a dirty look in return and briefly remembers a time when he would have blithely ripped the man's throat out for such rudeness. Angel thinks that manners aren't what they used to be. Then again, neither is he. Dismisses the thought with a shrug and makes his way over to the crowded bar. Angel orders a scotch from the well-muscled, over-gelled bartender with the fake tan and turns around to lean against the bar and watch the crowd as he drinks. Not sure what he's doing here, not sure this is where he wants to be, but knows he doesn't want to be at home alone, and can't think of anywhere else to go. So, here he is. Funny thing, that -- everybody thinks Angel enjoys being alone. They're wrong. He never was one to enjoy spending time by himself. As a human, Angel -- Liam -- was never alone. He was always in a crowd, with a group, with somebody. Raising hell, getting drunk, getting laid. When he was Angelus, the crowd changed. The way he spent his time didn't. The gypsy curse changed everything. He went from being a gregarious man -- ok, vampire -- who was always surrounded by others, to someone who spent more than a century completely alone, haunted by the evil he'd committed, afraid to be too close to people for fear of doing it again. He hated every fucking minute of it. Nothing to occupy Angel's time or his mind except the endless parade of crimson-drenched memories that swirl through his brain to this day, mocking him. Tormenting him with guilt over the dead. Taunting him with the remembered taste of the blood he drank. Filling him with self-loathing, because even now, sometimes he craves it so badly it hurts. So, here he is. Drinking his second scotch that the shiny bartender delivered with a wink and a nod, watching a club full of people try to pretend that they're not all here for the same reason -- to find a warm body to keep away the loneliness for one more night. Angel wonders if any of them will settle for a lukewarm body instead. He finishes his scotch and takes another, then moves to lean against a nearby wall. The bartender is flirting with him, annoying Angel enough that he allows himself to feel a small pang of regret that he can't take the man outside and drain him dry. He thinks that moving away is probably the better choice. One that he won't feel guilty about later, anyway. Angel shakes his head as if he can physically wipe the dangerously tempting thought from his mind and looks out over the crowd again. Watches people dance, drink, fight and flirt. Tries to decide if just being here among all these bodies is enough contact for him tonight, or if he needs something more to keep the nightmares at bay this time. Angel starts to make a mental list, weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, he can get laid. Always a good thing. Well, ok - not always. But fucking a total stranger isn't about to take him anywhere close to perfect happiness, so it's definitely an option. But the other hand reminds Angel that his control over the bloodlust is never stretched tighter than when he's buried deep inside another body, hearing the blood beckoning him, calling his name from just underneath the paper-thinness of whomever's skin he's pressed against. The one hand tells the other hand to shut the fuck up as Angel finally sees the brilliant blue eyes that have been watching him ever since he stepped through the door. He admires the full lips, the curve of the nose, the arch of the man's eyebrows, for fuck's sake. Feels something sweet and hot roll through him as one of those eyebrows raises, and the man smiles, just a bit. Nods his head and smirks in return, enjoys the flare of lust in the eyes that never leave Angel's throat as he swallows the last of his drink. Sets the glass down on the bar, never breaking eye contact. Thrusts his hands deep into his pockets and walks toward the man who's still sitting alone. Jerks his head as he walks by, motioning for the guy to follow him. Doesn't look back, but he can hear the sound of a chair being pushed back, hear the rustle of fabric as the man stands, listens to the footsteps that follow him out of the club and into the alley. Turns and grabs and quicker than he can think it, he's got the guy pushed up against the wall and his tongue buried in that hot, wet mouth. Feels the groan that started somewhere in the pit of his stomach meet the matching one coming from the other man somewhere in between their tongues and their teeth. Slicks his tongue across those plush lips and dives back in as his hands slide down to pull the flannel shirt from where it's tucked into soft denim. Grinds his hips hard against the erection he can feel through the jeans, pushes the guy even harder against the brick wall, and feels a clenching in his stomach when the man pushes back so that their cocks are rubbing together, hard and frantic. And suddenly they've both got way too many clothes on for Angel's liking, so he unbuttons the ridiculous flannel shirt as he slides his open mouth away, across the stubble on the guy's cheek and down. Feels the moan echo through the skin under his mouth and the fingers that twist themselves into his hair not quite painfully enough. Licks and nibbles the golden neck lightly with his blunt teeth until the shirt is open, then slips his hands underneath the fabric to expose the flawlessly smooth skin and tight hard nipples he wants to suck so badly. Feels every muscle in the man's body go rigid, pulls his mouth away and looks. Sees as the temperature of his hands registers in the man's mind, forces himself to watch as the realization of what he is carves itself onto that beautiful face. Angel wonders how he knows about vampires, then he wonders where the stake or the cross or the holy water is coming from to put an end to this little dance. Realizes that he still has his hands on the man's chest, starts to pull away, is surprised when he's stopped by the guy grabbing his wrist. Angel listens in disbelief as he's calmly asked why he hasn't killed the man yet. Feels surreal as he explains that he's different, tells the guy -- whose name he still doesn't want to know -- that he was cursed with a soul a hundred years ago and he doesn't kill people now. Doesn't understand the amused look that flickers briefly on the man's face and can't believe the hands that wind themselves back into his hair and pull him down for another bruising kiss. This time the man arches into him and moans when he runs his hands over the smoothly muscled chest as Angel pinches and twists the already-hard nipples and runs his tongue along that sharp jaw line and up to the ear to suckle softly on the fat velvety lobe. Inhales deeply as he feels warm hands slipping his own shirt loose from his slacks and sliding up to circle his nipples, takes in the fresh smell of soap and shampoo and the tangy scent of arousal and it all makes him that much harder. He can't take any more, can't wait any longer, and he pleads for understanding with his lips and his tongue and his hands as he unbuckles the man's belt and lets the worn jeans fall. Grasps the hot erection in one cool hand, sliding it up and down the swollen silky length, then runs his thumb over the soft blunt head to wipe away the drops of pre-come already welling up there. Uses his other hand to try to undo his own belt, takes another breath as his hand is shoved away and clever fingers have him out and in their grasp in seconds. Angel moans and lets his head fall onto the shoulder beneath him as the hot fingers work his cock, sliding his foreskin up over the head then pulling it down again, then slipping over his slit to collect the clear drops there and spread them down the length of his erection. Angel can't focus enough, with desire ripping through his brain, to keep his hand in motion on the cock he's holding, so he lets his hand slip between the man's thighs and rolls the man's balls gently for a few seconds before he pulls away and turns the man until he's facing the wall. Breathes in one more time as the guy bends and braces himself against the wall, perfect round ass out in the air, just waiting for Angel to fuck him, begging wordlessly. Angel can see him trembling, and it stokes his own lust until it's a fire raging uncontrollably across every inch of his skin. Only one way to put it out that he knows of, and he sucks his fingers briefly before slipping them, one at a time inside the other man, thrusting and stretching. Finally, he pulls his fingers out and the gasp from the other man as he's empty again whooshes along Angel's veins and demands that he take his painfully erect cock and place the glistening tip at that perfect hole and. Push. So. Fucking. Slowly. Until... he's in and he's surrounded, engulfed in heat and wet and it's fucking incredible. Pulls out and thrusts again, sinking all the way until his cock disappears completely in that tanned ass and he can feel the man's heartbeat thrumming through his own body, they're so close. He grips the narrow hips roughly and starts to move, sliding his slippery cock in and out of the perfection in front of him, head thrown back, eyes closed, groaning when he feels the guy thrust back against him. Harder then, and faster, and he's trying, fighting desperately to stay in control, to not let loose and just pound the guy into the fucking bricks, but it's all so good. Moves hands and hips until he knows he's hitting the guy's prostate with every thrust and figures the extra pleasure gives the pain a little more room, so he bends over the man's back and lets go. Harder and faster yet again and the guy is moaning and begging and breathing in little gasps, telling Angel how good it is - fuck me harder dammit, fuckin' please harder - and he's got the sexiest fucking little drawl that Angel's ever heard and it pulls something tight in Angel until his balls contract and he loses it and he's coming, bucking and shaking. Holds on tight for just a few seconds longer, then before the other man has time to even think about it, Angel's got him with his back up against the wall again, and Angel's on his knees with the guy's throbbing cock deep in his throat. Feels those brilliant fingers wrap themselves once more in his hair, and he's sucking and licking and swallowing. More moans and pleading, then Angel thrusts two fingers deep into the guy's slippery hole and deep throats him, sucking hard. It doesn't take much and the guy shoots down Angel's throat with a shout and Angel swallows, enjoying the salty, slightly bitter taste. He licks his lips as he stands up, pulling his slacks up and fastening them and notices the man watching his mouth hungrily. Angel leans in and kisses him, open-mouthed and hard, before breaking away. Angel watches the guy as he pulls up his jeans, buckles his belt and re-buttons the flannel shirt. He watches Angel as he does his own belt and shirt. Angel nods once and the other man does the same, then Angel turns and walks away. He's ready to be alone again for a little while. A few days, a Hollywood party, Cordelia and Doyle and a vision later, Angel walks into Russell Winters' corporate headquarters. Comes face to face with the man from the bar, dressed in an incredibly expensive suit and tie instead of the soft flannel and worn jeans. The hard expression on his face matches the clothes, and there's not a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he hands Angel a business card and runs through his supposed-to-be-threatening speech. Angel ignores him and walks on by. Once he's sent Winters out of the window, Angel walks out of the office, sticking lawyer-boy's card back in his front jacket pocket as he passes. Gives it a little pat, just because. Angel's sure they'll be seeing a lot of each other. --- End