Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

  • Mood:

Icon Drabble #9

For killerweasel, ely_jan and stars91
400 words

“You don’t call. You don’t write. What am I to think?”

Lindsey didn’t turn at the sound of the voice over his shoulder. He lifted his empty glass to the bartender and nodded.

“I’d ask if you wanted something to drink, but I’m sure they don’t serve what you’re looking for here.”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

Lindsey still didn’t turn his head when he knew Angel had taken the barstool beside him. Didn’t acknowledge the vampire even after their drinks sat in front of them on scarred wood.

“How did you find me?” Lindsey had to ask. After all, it had been years since he’d left LA. Driven away in his truck and his boots, grown his hair out, returned to his roots. Left the law behind, left Angel behind.

“I knew where to look.”

“Yeah. I s’pose you did.” Lindsey lit a cigarette and finally gave in, looking at Angel beside him from under the brim of his dirty white cowboy hat.

“You look good.” Lindsey let a smile cross his lips. “Thought you’d be dust by now.”

“Then you thought wrong.”

There never was much reason for small talk between them. Never had been. No asking about family or friends. No chit-chat about cases or cows or why the night sky seemed bigger here in Oklahoma than anywhere else in the world.

Two drinks for Angel, too many for Lindsey and they were out in the dark, boots scraped on gravel when Angel pushed him up against his dust covered F-150.

“Come back, Lindsey.”

Cool lips, tongue on his neck, nose brushing the hair that had grown down to his shoulders.

“I can’t.”

Soft moans when sharp teeth scraped lightly from his jaw to his collarbone. Buttons of his shirt popped, Lindsey heard one hit the hard, rusted metal behind him. Strong fingers sliding on heated skin.

“I’ll protect you.”

Words spoken around soft lapping sounds and Lindsey’s hips moved in a familiar motion against Angel’s.

“You can’t. They’re too powerful … not ‘til I find the right combination of magic.”

Lindsey reached to push his hat off into the muddy bed of his pickup, but Angel’s hand, Angel’s voice stopped him. Held him motionless. Words as powerful as chains. Emotion as strong as iron. Lust with the smell of leather and pain and pleasure that addicted.

“If you’re not coming home with me, Lindsey … leave your hat on.”

*adores you*
Tags: angel/lindsey, ats, drabble, drabbles, ficlets
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.