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Unseen
folder
Angel the Series › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Lindsey
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,527
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angel the Series › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Lindsey
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,527
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Unseen
Unseen
Cold. Never been so cold, so frozen.
Hot all over, feeling scalding blood escaping, sliding, pouring down his chest, through his fingers. His mind whirling as rough, panting gasps grow heavier, like sucking in water instead of air, the cold chilling him to the core even as the blood burns against the skin on his palms. Fingers still trying to push the life trickling from the holes in his chest back in as the last labored breath in sighs back out with his name heavy on his tongue.
Angel..
Feeling the world wrench inside out, chills wracking him and then.. nothing. No heat, no searing cold burning at him.. no anything. Sucking a gasping breath in as he realizes he hasn’t drawn one in minutes, hands scrabbling at his chest as he finally notices its silence. Its stillness.
The wall hard and rough yet not as he lurches up against it, pulling and pushing off of it to stumble and stand upright, eyes wide and wild as he shakes his head violently, denying, tearing off at a run towards echoing booms and thunder in the distance. Wanting to find that fuckin’ green backstabbing prick and rip his head off, shove it up Lorne’s ass and see how smug and all-knowing the Pylean would be walkin’ round like that.
What the fuck did he know, anyway? Wouldn’t have betrayed them..him, not finally being a part of something good.. something right. Wouldn’t have..
Lorne not being where he though he’d be, not following Angel around like a love-sick, blind puppy willing to do anything the goddamned vampire commands, even shooting old friends while staring them in the eyes. No one and nothing but devastation and death surrounding Angel when he finds him, on his knees beside a motherfuckin’ dragon of all things, tore almost to shreds and unable to get to his feet.
Quick glance around shows no life, just burned, smoldering buildings, blood and the stench of hopelessness, death and carnage, but for the flickering shadow of Spike ever watchful, protective as he waits for Angel to regain his feet, his wits. Long fuckin’ wait that’ll be.
Keeping just out of sight of the two vampires as he watches them limp and hold each other up, reverently cradling the bodies of their friends as they slowly, painfully place them in an abandoned warehouse, covering them up with whispered, aching promises to be back to bury them the next night. Chest aching a little at the devastated sound but hardening his heart against it. Fucker didn’t care if he lived or died, why feel an ounce of anything resembling compassion for him.
Silently slipping along behind them as they make their way to a motel a few blocks away from the ruined part of town, no one noticing the blood drying on their clothes, the smoking buildings only a glance away. Typical.
They split up after paying, going to separate rooms, separate floors with barely a look between them. Follows the blonde with his eyes to make sure he doesn’t change his mind and have some kind of fucked up desire to console each other over their losses before he quickly, quietly traces Angel’s steps, slipping in the door just as the big vampire absently pushes it closed. Not looking up, not bothering to turn a light on.
Expensive, ruined shirt dropping to the floor carelessly, peeled away without a thought as Angel walks through the bathroom door and he pauses to glance at it lying there and feels a chill run up his spine, knowing how it feels to be cast aside by him like so much trash, without ever a second thought. Cursing to himself silently at feeling camaraderie with a fuckin’ shirt of Angel’s.
Losing it, McDonald.
Steam already billowing out of the small room as he edges his way inside, relaxing a little at the sight of Angel’s broad back turned to him as the vampire bends over the sink, retching out whatever blood he had consumed earlier in the day, spasms wracking his muscular body, rippling down his spine. Watching silently as a strong hand violently wrenches at the faucet, seeing the broad shoulders shaking and hearing the hoarse sobs even as Angel splashes handful after handful of water over his face as if he could fool himself into believing the tears pouring down his face were simply that.
Broken, raw voice whispering apologies, so many sorry’s and God please’s, why’s and fuck’s, why them, why not me, why never me when I deserve it so much more? Lindsey straining his ears for his name, his apology falling from those lips he always craved so much, even more so after every hot, violent kiss, every gasping moan.
Hearing every name but his, names he doesn’t know, feels he should know, names he does and mourns for, too. Lorne’s fuckin’ name. But not his.
Never his.
No apology for him, no second thoughts. No pain-filled whisper of his name.
Never.
Wanting to kick him, kill him. Wanting to make him hurt as badly as he aches, burns, feeling the fuckin’ tears in his own eyes as he watches Angel pull himself back together. Always so damn strong, too strong.
Remembering cool, hard hands shoving and tearing at him, cool lips stilling the violence pouring from his own that first time, the trembling he still denies he felt. Stumbled over, tension filled meetings that exploded into heat and passion after strained calls in the middle of the night.
A drunken phone call following a tense pay off to an irate small town police officer who didn’t appreciate Angel’s sign on the back of his truck, followed by a knock on his motel room door and a flurry of fists and clashing of mouths and bodies, sound of a car tearing away leaving him only with bruises and aches to prove it happened.
Coming back for him when he heard what Angel had become, feeling violently betrayed and misled, only to fall back into the same pattern of longing, wanting.
A sharp exhalation and deep curse jerking his head up, bringing him back into the present as he stares at his own reflection in the stained, slowly fogging mirror, where Angel’s reflection should have been, had he been human. Angel staring forward as Lindsey’s eyes widen, waiting for his heart to race at being caught but feeling nothing, as Angel spins to face him.. finding nothing.
Seeing Angel’s wild eyes look through him, around him. Darting back and forth trying to find him, trying to see him for once, for the first time. But not.
As ever, remaining unseen to him.
His name falling, finally, breathed out in a tone more reverent and pain-filled than anything he had ever heard, from those lips, bringing him to his knees right along with Angel as the bigger man sank down heavily, tears once again sliding down his face.
"Lindsey.. ah fuck, Linds.."
Helplessly reaching for him and feeling nothing more than a fizzing tingle as his fingers passed through a tear-wet cheek. Cursing and biting into his lips as the truth sinks in. Silent and invisible, begging him to notice he’s there even as he knows its pointless.
Watching as Angel breaks.
Cold. Never been so cold, so frozen.
Hot all over, feeling scalding blood escaping, sliding, pouring down his chest, through his fingers. His mind whirling as rough, panting gasps grow heavier, like sucking in water instead of air, the cold chilling him to the core even as the blood burns against the skin on his palms. Fingers still trying to push the life trickling from the holes in his chest back in as the last labored breath in sighs back out with his name heavy on his tongue.
Angel..
Feeling the world wrench inside out, chills wracking him and then.. nothing. No heat, no searing cold burning at him.. no anything. Sucking a gasping breath in as he realizes he hasn’t drawn one in minutes, hands scrabbling at his chest as he finally notices its silence. Its stillness.
The wall hard and rough yet not as he lurches up against it, pulling and pushing off of it to stumble and stand upright, eyes wide and wild as he shakes his head violently, denying, tearing off at a run towards echoing booms and thunder in the distance. Wanting to find that fuckin’ green backstabbing prick and rip his head off, shove it up Lorne’s ass and see how smug and all-knowing the Pylean would be walkin’ round like that.
What the fuck did he know, anyway? Wouldn’t have betrayed them..him, not finally being a part of something good.. something right. Wouldn’t have..
Lorne not being where he though he’d be, not following Angel around like a love-sick, blind puppy willing to do anything the goddamned vampire commands, even shooting old friends while staring them in the eyes. No one and nothing but devastation and death surrounding Angel when he finds him, on his knees beside a motherfuckin’ dragon of all things, tore almost to shreds and unable to get to his feet.
Quick glance around shows no life, just burned, smoldering buildings, blood and the stench of hopelessness, death and carnage, but for the flickering shadow of Spike ever watchful, protective as he waits for Angel to regain his feet, his wits. Long fuckin’ wait that’ll be.
Keeping just out of sight of the two vampires as he watches them limp and hold each other up, reverently cradling the bodies of their friends as they slowly, painfully place them in an abandoned warehouse, covering them up with whispered, aching promises to be back to bury them the next night. Chest aching a little at the devastated sound but hardening his heart against it. Fucker didn’t care if he lived or died, why feel an ounce of anything resembling compassion for him.
Silently slipping along behind them as they make their way to a motel a few blocks away from the ruined part of town, no one noticing the blood drying on their clothes, the smoking buildings only a glance away. Typical.
They split up after paying, going to separate rooms, separate floors with barely a look between them. Follows the blonde with his eyes to make sure he doesn’t change his mind and have some kind of fucked up desire to console each other over their losses before he quickly, quietly traces Angel’s steps, slipping in the door just as the big vampire absently pushes it closed. Not looking up, not bothering to turn a light on.
Expensive, ruined shirt dropping to the floor carelessly, peeled away without a thought as Angel walks through the bathroom door and he pauses to glance at it lying there and feels a chill run up his spine, knowing how it feels to be cast aside by him like so much trash, without ever a second thought. Cursing to himself silently at feeling camaraderie with a fuckin’ shirt of Angel’s.
Losing it, McDonald.
Steam already billowing out of the small room as he edges his way inside, relaxing a little at the sight of Angel’s broad back turned to him as the vampire bends over the sink, retching out whatever blood he had consumed earlier in the day, spasms wracking his muscular body, rippling down his spine. Watching silently as a strong hand violently wrenches at the faucet, seeing the broad shoulders shaking and hearing the hoarse sobs even as Angel splashes handful after handful of water over his face as if he could fool himself into believing the tears pouring down his face were simply that.
Broken, raw voice whispering apologies, so many sorry’s and God please’s, why’s and fuck’s, why them, why not me, why never me when I deserve it so much more? Lindsey straining his ears for his name, his apology falling from those lips he always craved so much, even more so after every hot, violent kiss, every gasping moan.
Hearing every name but his, names he doesn’t know, feels he should know, names he does and mourns for, too. Lorne’s fuckin’ name. But not his.
Never his.
No apology for him, no second thoughts. No pain-filled whisper of his name.
Never.
Wanting to kick him, kill him. Wanting to make him hurt as badly as he aches, burns, feeling the fuckin’ tears in his own eyes as he watches Angel pull himself back together. Always so damn strong, too strong.
Remembering cool, hard hands shoving and tearing at him, cool lips stilling the violence pouring from his own that first time, the trembling he still denies he felt. Stumbled over, tension filled meetings that exploded into heat and passion after strained calls in the middle of the night.
A drunken phone call following a tense pay off to an irate small town police officer who didn’t appreciate Angel’s sign on the back of his truck, followed by a knock on his motel room door and a flurry of fists and clashing of mouths and bodies, sound of a car tearing away leaving him only with bruises and aches to prove it happened.
Coming back for him when he heard what Angel had become, feeling violently betrayed and misled, only to fall back into the same pattern of longing, wanting.
A sharp exhalation and deep curse jerking his head up, bringing him back into the present as he stares at his own reflection in the stained, slowly fogging mirror, where Angel’s reflection should have been, had he been human. Angel staring forward as Lindsey’s eyes widen, waiting for his heart to race at being caught but feeling nothing, as Angel spins to face him.. finding nothing.
Seeing Angel’s wild eyes look through him, around him. Darting back and forth trying to find him, trying to see him for once, for the first time. But not.
As ever, remaining unseen to him.
His name falling, finally, breathed out in a tone more reverent and pain-filled than anything he had ever heard, from those lips, bringing him to his knees right along with Angel as the bigger man sank down heavily, tears once again sliding down his face.
"Lindsey.. ah fuck, Linds.."
Helplessly reaching for him and feeling nothing more than a fizzing tingle as his fingers passed through a tear-wet cheek. Cursing and biting into his lips as the truth sinks in. Silent and invisible, begging him to notice he’s there even as he knows its pointless.
Watching as Angel breaks.