**
Indigo spills into midnight blue; deepening colours merge into darkness. Darkness swirls, concatenates around the bed, hardening, resolving. And Lindsey loves it, taking loup, pushing extra to send Holland over the edge.
The man doesn't mutter, or moan, or even gasp. But his eyes are hard and glittering, pale topaz in the dark night. Braced against the headboard, legs open in carnal invitation, his mouth is curved into the soft little smile that puts Lindsey on his mettle. Tests Lindsey past the edge.
So he dips and takes the cock in his mouth, and tastes it, swirling, his tongue laving the skin and tiny hairs. Moves up to the balls, kissing softly. Feels a moment of triumph as Holland stiffens. Then pliable, relaxes, arching slightly to accede. And Lindsey grins to himself; he loves this, taking loup.
A trick of darkness or the moonlight, but the hands that fist on plain cotton sheets - no monograms, too tacky for Holland - are longer and curved, with talon sharp nails. And if Lindsey is especially good, there will be crescent shaped gouges and little feathers in the air. Because Holland can't resist this, not from Lindsey, playing wolf.
Senior partner, boss and mentor, never lover, never friend. A power game played to win. Began as loyalty and ends in bed.
"Enough." But Lindsey's not had enough, and his hands creep up to Holland's hips. Stroke feather light, lulling, then bite hard with the force of unclipped nails. Sharp enough to rake and even bleed, enough so Holland arches his neck and hisses a little, growing hairier, angrier and his eyes glowing yellow. But the loup passes, it always does, and he pulls Lindsey off him and into a kiss.
This time Holland on top and Lindsey
below and he tastes vodka and tangy lime. Hears the clink of ice in the first
drink Holland mixed for him, feels the proud blush in his cheek when Holland
first said, "Lindsey there's someone you ought to meet." Remembers dreamland
and fairytales coming true, how the anonymous sophomore was singled out by
the most influential patron of Hastings. A dinner invitation - 'just a few
friends' - and he thought he knew what was expected of him. Blushed a little
in his rat flat as he bathed, prepared and - moisturised. But it turned out
to actually be 'just a few friends I want you to
meet' and it was business, and a job offer
and he'd have gone to Holland in gratitude except -
Except the man made it clear that they didn't fuck, they wouldn't, not that first night, maybe not ever. "It's business," he said, meaning 'you're not good enough'. And Lindsey remembers the sub-text, with whisper soft clarity.
Wasn't his choice then, but it is now. Now he's Holland's equal in bed and rival in the boardroom. So he lets the man kiss him and devours him in turn, pretending to be ravenous, letting him know he too can be loup.
Then Holland smiles and breaks away, just enough that his lips are on Lindsey's cheeks, blowing cold air, lemon flavoured.
"I smell him on you," nipping softly, just to taste. "ON you," meaning treachery, and his hand comes up to cup and caress.
But Lindsey leans into the hand that would draw blood, and presses a kiss to the skin. Feels Holland's slight puzzlement, sees his eyes change from lemon to grey. And best of all, as he nuzzles the palm and presses wet open lips to it, he feels their cocks harden.
*In some packs the older males fuck the yearlings to show them who's boss. *
Lindsey never leaves off sucking, gazing slant-wise, challenging.
*Take me. *
But Holland won't, because he's Lindsey, Lindsey McDonald. And the senior partners have their eye on him, and one day if he's good, there'll be a moonlit night when the car comes for him, and he'll meet the senior partners and join them for the kill. So until then-
Until then, they fuck, and its good and he tucks away memories.
The memories.
For future reference.
Whether for blackmail or jack-off purposes, he can resurrect them in lyrical clarity.
**
"I can smell him on you," says the vampire, rocking gently.
He'd reply, except his mouth is full of Angel's cock. So he sucks harder, retaliating, lips tight around vampire erection.
Angel gasps (Ah!) and he swallows, still sucking. Consuming, tastes marbled salt and the copper of blood as his mouth is flooded... ah, and another gasp and the vampire pulls out...
And then it is over with no time for words.
But later, quieter, in the darkness of solitude, he stands in his apartment, holding a silk tie to his cheek. Burns hot flushed and aroused at its texture against his. Remembers it gliding insidiously, around his wrists and ankles and neck and cock... remembers the feelings; remembers the words. Remembers and tastes.
With lyrical clarity.
**
He never spends a night in Angel's bed. For one thing they fuck in his office.
"Knees." The vampire is harsh now, inhuman, light reflecting strangely off the ridged cheeks.
Lindsey sinks gracefully, hands reaching up to unfasten Angel's belt.
Yerss...
The vampire arches his neck, involuntary submission. Lindsey grins, applying teeth and tongue and pressure to push that little extra.
And gains his reward as the face shifts from human to demon, man and angel, vampire and killer.
Taking the vampire is like taking loup. And Lindsey canât choose which is more erotic ö the wolf who canât bite, or the vampire who wonât.
Angel's hands fist in his hair. "Stop."
*Let go of my ears, I know what I'm doing. *
"Stop." And he does, tilting his head uncomfortably to gauge the change.
Angel smiles and drops into a half crouch. Reaches out with half-vamped fingers and runs a taloned finger over the bulge in Lindsey's crotch.
"My turn," smiles the vampire. Proceeding to show him the true pleasure pain of dentate.
**
Teeth... oh G - someone ... *teeth*!
Can be so... unbelievably erotic...
Ah!
Hurts...so good.
To have the edges...
Graze you...
OH G-!
He spasms and comes with a shout.
Hears the lazy grin in Holland's voice, "I knew you'd like that, pup."
Reaches up for a kiss ö
**
They've never kissed. Appropriately.
Angel hums into his neck.
"Mm," blowing air rhythmically onto his jugular, "mm-hmm-hmm-hmm..."
Lindsey feels hot. And cold. And feverish.
"Angel,"
"Mm."
"I -"
"Uh-uh." And lets his lips - vampire lips - vibrate on the sensitive pulse of the carotid.
Lindsey closes his eyes, arching.
Do it.
Angel hums.
Take me. Ride lou -
The humming stops. It doesn't begin again.
Lindsey opens his eyes to see Angel.
Staring at him. Questioning, half resigned.
IS this what you want?
Recalls in that instant, with startling clarity.
How it feels. To take loup.
And smiles falsely instead.
"I should be going."
Angel lets him leave.
**
"I'm offering you the world."
He's riding loup tonight.
"Contrast the vampire versus the world."
Shut up.
"Our world."
Riding loup, riding hard. If he closes his eyes he can see stars.
"Lindsey."
Even now. Not a question, but a statement. With his ass in the air and Lindsey's cock up it, riding loup, the man is smug and composedly self-assured.
What will it - TAKE - to make him lose it?
ãNot you," murmurs Holland, bucking slightly at a particularly well-aimed thrust. "Not you, I'm afraid."
And suddenly Lindsey is afraid.
Holland rolls over with surprising strength, pins Lindsey under him. Incongruous, the solid near-retiree coolly restraining the well worked out frame of the younger man.
"You don't really want this."
I do. I do.
"You're not ready for it."
I am. I AM. You know I am.
"Hmm," and the sound is low and familiar. Lindsey squeezes eyes shut even as Holland nips his neck. Draws blood. Tastes blood.
Retreats, satisfied.
"Unready. Pup," nuzzles his neck, before withdrawing.
And he is left, painfully alone, stretched naked on the bed. Trembling with half-fulfilled desire while Holland mixes a drink.
"Feel free to jack off." Swallows, pours another. "The sheets can stand it."
Feeling ugly, ashamed, he does. Screams Angel's name as he comes. Feels dirtier. More shame.
Then hears Holland say with some amusement, "Such a cheap shot, Lindsey. You can do better than that."
He knows heâll remember this with unforgiving clarity.
**
He walks into Angel's office, armed with a cross. Angel looks up, not startled.
"I could smell you a mile away."
His hand shakes a bit, trembles. Firms it, holds steady.
Angel shakes his head. "Won't work. You don't have the faith."
Damn you.
He moves forward, but the vampire is already there, in front of him, pressing.
"What do you believe in?"
Words. No words. Just. Complete the deed.
"Who do you want most? What do you need most?"
Myself. Be whole.
Taking loup. Taking you.
"Tell me."
Fuck you.
He turns on his heel and leaves. Again unmolested, again unmarred.
Except the cross burning his hand and the words burning his brain.
He still doesn't choose.
**
"He wants your soul."
And what do you?
"The question is, Lindsey, do you want him to have it?"
Maybe I do.
"I offer you the world."
And my cock in your ass and your cock down my throat.
"All this can be yours." A pause and Holland smiles at him.
"If you want. Only if,"
I want.
I WANT.
And suddenly his desire gains a certain clarity.
**
"I can smell him on you," says the vampire, rocking gently.
He'd say something except his mouth is full of Angel's cock. So he sucks harder, retaliating, lips tight around vampire erection.
Angel gasps and he swallows, still sucking, consuming, tasting marble and salt and the copper of blood as his mouth is flooded... ah, and ah and the vampire pulls out ...
And blocks the stake before it enters his heart. Looking humourlessly at the perpetrator, caught in his iron grip.
Lindsey looks back at him, heart hammering.
Just do it.
And Angel laughs.
"You know I can smell you a mile away."
Yes I know. Just do it.
"You knew I'd block this."
Yes. Just do it.
"No," single quiet word. "I won't make
your choices
for you."
It'd be easy. So easy. You take me. En-soul me later, if you wish.
Easy.
Don't you want me?
"Get out." The vampire throws him to the floor. "And tell your boss I said hi. Fuck him well in memory."
He gets up slowly. Luckily still dressed.
The choice made for him. And now -
**
In the moonlit night, he stands alone. In the darkness of solitude, holding a silk tie to his cheek. Burns hot flushed and aroused at its texture against his.
Remembers it gliding around his wrists and ankles... remembers the feeling of vampire lips against his neck...
Remembers the teeth. Remembers the words.
Remembers
and tastes.
And tastes. And tastes.
His cheeks are flushed, still tasting
blood. His own,
no other.
Holland praised him.
"A difficult test."
*I passed. * And bit his tongue hard.
It's still throbbing. The cut.
Will open if he prods it.
"Come home with me."
Not tonight.
Tonight he stands alone instead,
Remembering and tasting
The kiss of the vampire.
"Versus the world. You choose."
He chose. And wishes he could forget
The bite of loup
Not the kiss of death.
But it plays over and over
In lyrical clarity.
~ End.
**
It is weird. I know. Sometimes I need to
get this conceptual weirdness out of my system. Sorry. *shrug* Iâll
try and do better next time.
Ok, for those who didn't get it, my idea was that *Wolf*ram and Hart's senior partners are actually werewolves. And once a lawyer gets 'promoted' he also gets 'turned'. Why did I write Holland/Lindsey? Because... a man doesn't protect the life of his protege. His lover, perhaps. Basically, I felt there had to be more between the two than seen on the show.
**