Cupidity - chapter eleven
Nov. 19th, 2007 10:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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curious_spellsThanks so much for all the feedback so far! It's wonderful and very inspiring.
Previous chapters here
Chapter eleven
Robin had a yacht. It was big and sleek and white, and apparently it went really fast, for a yacht. The captain had told him a bunch of stuff about it, but Angel was experiencing jet lag for the first time in his life and it hadn't really sunk in. They'd flown into France and gotten picked up at some coatal town. Now they were going to Ibiza, which was near Spain, Robin had said, an island. They had really good parties. Angel had just nodded and hoped he'd be able to sleep soon.
Now Robin was in his room with his laptop, and Angel was on a sun lounger, feeling hungover and amazed. The ocean was so blue. There was no water like this anywhere near New York. It broke in a white, frothy spray around the prow of the boat like the foam on the cappucino this girl had brought him. A boat with servants, who knew. She had dark hair a big, happy smile, and had informed him that he needed some soup. He thought he might, and the ride of the boat was smooth enough that there was no chance he'd spill it.
He tried to think logically about Robin and Rose and utterly failed again and again. His head felt foggy. He ate the soup, which was lemony and had chicken and tiny pasta stars in it, and talked with Maria about Ibiza for a while before he found himself nodding off.
When he woke, he was in bed, and Robin lay beside him. Robin was frowning, and he looked even paler than usual, washed out by the dim light.
Angel propped himself up on one elbow and watched him. The brain fog was gone, but he still couldn't manage a single rational thought about Robin.
He just wanted stuff. Wanted to stay with Robin, wanted to believe he wasn't a creepy mafioso. Wanted to believe him, period, but he was making it pretty fucking hard.
He touched Robin's arm, fingertips rubbing lightly over smooth skin. Robin frowned, and his mouth opened, but he didn't wake. Angel kissed him lightly and slipped out of bed.
The ocean was still and dark. They were docked with a bunch of other yachts, most of them smaller than Robin's. The water rippled a tiny bit as the boat bobbed, like wrinkles in black silk. The moon was just setting, full and pale at the horizon.
There was a ladder at the back of the boat, he remembered. He wondered if the water would be warm.
When he let himself down into it, well, it wasn't. It was cool and sort of buoyed him up. He let go of the ladder and floated. He kicked his feet and watched the hull slip away, foot by foot. The moon was touching the edge of the ocean now. It looked so close he felt like he should able to swim into it.
"Angel." It was Robin's voice.
He looked up and saw a dark shape leaning over the side of the boat. He waved, and it waved back.
"You coming in?"
"No, you're coming out."
He was tempted to argue on general principles, but the mood was broken now anyway. He climbed out. Robin touched his wet skin and pulled him close, licked salt water off his neck. His hands curved over Angel's ass.
"Would you like to go dancing?" he asked.
"It's late, isn't it?"
"The clubs here are open all night."
"So, like, dance till dawn, that kind of thing?"
"That kind of thing exactly."
"Okay, sure." He bent to pick up the clothes he'd left on the deck, but Robin took his hand and tugged him away.
"I have some things for you to put on."
***
Angel's new shirt ended a couple inches above his belly button. The new jeans started pretty nearly below his hip bones. They were tight and thin and molded over his ass and his thighs and his package. He was wearing hot pink underwear, and it was a good thing because otherwise he'd be flashing his ass through the rip in the back. The brand name was Hands Free, which didn't seem like an accurate prediction for the future, unless it was talking about how he'd get off, in which case, totally possible.
Robin was molded almost as tightly to his ass as his jeans were. His hips ground forward, and Angel could feel his hard-on through his white linen pants, rubbing along Angel's back seam with every downbeat of the heavy bass.
It was good. The music was fucking awesome, really hot stuff he'd never heard before. Some random guy earlier had told him the DJs liked to premier stuff here. He could see why.
Red Palace was the biggest club he'd ever been in. Four floors, each one crazier than the last, fifty foot bar tops made of lucite with mannequin parts embedded in them, lighting that seemed to change with the music, half naked hot people everywhere. It was like heaven, or maybe hell, with lots of glowsticks and designer clothes.
He and Robin were on the fourth floor. There were dancers in clear plastic boxes suspended over the dance floor, girls and guys. They were all wearing thongs and nothing else. There was something happening on the stage that involved a few naked guys and some really elaborate rope bondage.
By comparison, it seemed pretty tame when Robin started rubbing Angel's crotch in public. The dancefloor hardly counted as public anyway, with the crazy lights and the packed in bodies around them.
"Quit it," Angel mumbled, but the slow roll of his hips against Robin's hand was probably sending mixed messages. This was all so much easier than thinking.
Robin licked at his neck, tongue curled around the chain he still wore and sucking it into his mouth. He bit lightly. "Maybe we should do this up on stage instead. Would you like that?"
He didn't think he'd hate it, but he shook his head and closed his eyes and let Robin grope him. He tipped his head back onto Robin's shoulder and bared his neck for Robin's teeth. Not sharp, he told himself, normal teeth. No blood. Just a dream, just his subconscious expressing his general freaked-outness.
Robin nuzzled his neck, no teeth at all. Just soft lips and a wet, hot tongue. And his hand pushing down the front of Angel's jeans. Or. Someone else's hand.
Angel's eyes snapped open. There was a hot, bare-chested, blond guy with his fingers curled over the edge of Angel's waistband. The jeans were so damn low that he was nearly touching Angel's cock. And god, he was so worked up he would practically pay money for that right now.
"Unbutton them," Robin said. He was talking to hot blond guy and rubbing slow circles over Angel's nipples through his shirt.
Blondie did it, fast and eager, and wrapped his hand around Angel's cock. Angel moaned and felt his knees go weak.
"No," Robin said. "Suck him."
"Fuck, yeah," Blondie muttered, and went down, just like that, heat and wetness and suction around Angel's cock until Angel whimpered and his hips bucked forward.
"That's good," Robin said softly in his ear. "Fuck his mouth. I'm sure he wants it."
Maybe he did or maybe he didn't, but he sure didn't make any move to stop Angel thrusting forward. He took it like a pro, swallowed around the head of Angel's cock, and Robin took that same second to rip the front of Angel's shirt open. One of the buttons landed in Blondie's hair and there among the gelled spikes, glinting.
Robin pinched his nipples and rolled them slowly between tight fingers. He nudged Blondie with his foot. "Let him come on your face."
The guy let Angel's dick slip from his mouth and just knelt there, lips parted, chest heaving. Robin's arm snaked around Angel's waist, and Robin's fist slid up his cock, jerking him off fast and sure.
"Oh, god, god, Robin," Angel said, or mouthed. He couldn't seem to get enough air for words, and then he was spurting all over Blondie's face, and in his hair too, a streak right over the button.
"Fuck," Blondie said. He was rubbing his dick through his jeans, still looking up at them when Robin tucked Angel's cock back in his jeans and led him away a few steps.
"Get us a couple of drinks, Angel," he said, and pointed him in the direction of the grisly bar. He patted Angel's ass as he walked away.
Angel did what he was told. He fucking needed a drink.
"Anything," he told the bartender. "Expensive. Strong. With fruit. Two of them. No, three," he said, thinking of Blondie, who definitely needed a drink as well if he was still there. If he wasn't, Angel could have two.
He was, actually. Angel watched, drinks to match his underwear in each hand and another wedged between his forearm and chest, as Robin gave Blondie a card and a few seconds of serious conversation. Blondie nodded and bounced off into the crowd.
Angel caught up with him by the men's room and pushed a drink into his hand. "Hey. What'd he say to you? You were supposed to stick around for the booze."
"Wow, pink." The guy took a good gulp. Angel watched his throat muscles work. Again. "He didn't tell me. Just gave me his card and said to call. Are you one of his models? Is it a good agency? I don't want to do, like, porn. You know."
Angel looked at him. "You don't want to get mixed up with him," he said, and when he saw Blondie's frown start, "I mean, it's only softcore stuff. So maybe you're down with that? Or you can work something out or whatever. But think about the interview you just had, yeah?"
He left before Blondie could say anything and threaded his way back to Robin. Modeling. Right, sure.
Robin was waiting, standing a little apart from the crowd, which was a clever trick considering it was so rammed in here. He looked almost too good, slim and elegant in white linen that clung to him in all the right places. He was watching the crowd, and more than a few people were watching him back. Angel's guts clenched up.
"What did you say to him?" Robin said, taking the glass Angel offered him.
"I just gave him his drink, said thanks," said Angel, and Robin nodded and slid an arm round Angel's waist, drawing him closer. He watched Angel's face, and Angel knew for certain, somehow, that Robin knew he was lying. Angel wondered if Robin just expected him never to ask. Maybe he did.
Robin pressed up behind him again. He was still hard. He slid a hand over Angel's stomach and up under his shirt, stroking. The stage show changed to a bride and her five bridesmaids, the sort of wedding where the bridesmaids dressed in black leather and chains and carried whips.
The bass shook the crowd. Angel tried to let it fill him up, and let Robin kiss him and touch him all he wanted, but his pulse was beating way too fast and he felt kind of sick. He used to be good at not thinking too hard, so why couldn’t he manage it now?
When Robin said he had to use the bathroom, Angel hung around for a few seconds then followed him. Robin moved through the packed bodies easily. People made way for him, noticing him and stepping back. He drew attention like some sort of freaky human magnet. Angel watched as a dark haired guy smiled and slid his hand around Robin's hips and leaned close. They spoke for a few moments, and he saw the guy’s fingers curl in tighter to Robin’s waist. He laughed at whatever Robin said, and nodded, and went with him through the huge black door into the men’s room. Jesus.
Angel stood there like an idiot until they came out, and Robin saw him straight away. He met Angel’s eyes, then looked away. The guy was holding Robin’s card, staring at it.
“So, I’ll phone you?” the guy said, frowning at it a little.
Yes. We can arrange a meeting.”
“Great. Sure. So, what type of jobs?”
“I’ll tell you more when we meet. Goodbye.”
“Okay. Thank you,” he said, smiling uncertainly.
Robin turned away, the smile dropping from his face like it had never been there. His mouth was closed in a tight thin line.
“Modeling?” Angel said, finally.
“Yes.”
They stared at one another, until Angel pushed back out into the crowd. He didn’t even want to know. He could guess well enough. He shouldn’t even really be surprised. Robin kept him about for sex, as good as paid him for it, so why wouldn’t he decide to make some money out arranging that for other people? It made sense. It wasn’t like Angel was in any position to judge.
“Angel… “
Robin caught his arm, and Angel let him. “You wanna dance?” Angel said, just so they didn’t have to talk or anything.
Robin reached up and ran a strand of Angel’s hair though his fingers. “There are worse things…” he began, and then he closed his mouth. “Yes, of course. I want to dance with you.”
Robin took them into the middle of the dancefloor, where he pulled Angel to him and kissed him, slowly and for a long time, sliding his tongue against Angel's. He wound his arms around Angel’s neck and rubbed his cheek against his face, kissed his neck and stroked his hair. He was hard; Angel could feel it against his thigh, and he was pressing so close that there wasn't even the tiniest gap between them.
"Touch me," Robin said, kissing the corner of his mouth. He slid both hands down to Angel's ass and squeezed, and it felt so good. Angel's knees were still weak and his blood was pumping hard. "Open my pants and stroke me."
"Okay," he said, and he slid his hand between them, got Robin's zip down and carefully took him in his hand. His skin was silky and hot and damp, and Angel could smell his faint sharp scent. Robin lifted Angel's shirt and pushed forward with his hips, so the head of his cock dragged across Angel's bare stomach. He moaned right into Angel's mouth. He kissed him constantly, sucking at his lower lip, sinking his teeth in a little.
Angel dragged his mouth away and watched Robin's face as he started to come. His eyes were slitted, fixed on Angel's. His mouth was pink and wet with kisses, a little slack as he gasped and spilled over Angel's hand and his stomach. Around them, people moved to the music, either noticing or not noticing. Angel didn't know or care. Robin leaned against his chest, breathing hard, and tucked his face into Angel's neck. Angel put a hand on his back and held him as they swayed together.
They stayed longer. Robin spoke to another guy, wandering off with him a little distance but not really trying to hide it. He gave him his card. Angel couldn’t think of anything to say.
Red Palace was on the beach, almost. They stayed until the sun was rising over the Mediterranean. When they came out the air smelled of dry earth and vegetation and the bare concrete driveway was milling with skimpily dressed, disheveled people.
A Mercedes was waiting for them, engine idling. Robin wasn’t saying much, and Angel couldn’t find it in him to speak. He just wanted to sleep, or maybe just jump in the ocean and float away. That sounded good.
He didn't sleep at all. He lay next to Robin for about an hour, then got up as silently as he could, found his kit bag and his cash, took a change of clothes and slipped out of the cabin door.
Previous chapters here
Chapter eleven
Robin had a yacht. It was big and sleek and white, and apparently it went really fast, for a yacht. The captain had told him a bunch of stuff about it, but Angel was experiencing jet lag for the first time in his life and it hadn't really sunk in. They'd flown into France and gotten picked up at some coatal town. Now they were going to Ibiza, which was near Spain, Robin had said, an island. They had really good parties. Angel had just nodded and hoped he'd be able to sleep soon.
Now Robin was in his room with his laptop, and Angel was on a sun lounger, feeling hungover and amazed. The ocean was so blue. There was no water like this anywhere near New York. It broke in a white, frothy spray around the prow of the boat like the foam on the cappucino this girl had brought him. A boat with servants, who knew. She had dark hair a big, happy smile, and had informed him that he needed some soup. He thought he might, and the ride of the boat was smooth enough that there was no chance he'd spill it.
He tried to think logically about Robin and Rose and utterly failed again and again. His head felt foggy. He ate the soup, which was lemony and had chicken and tiny pasta stars in it, and talked with Maria about Ibiza for a while before he found himself nodding off.
When he woke, he was in bed, and Robin lay beside him. Robin was frowning, and he looked even paler than usual, washed out by the dim light.
Angel propped himself up on one elbow and watched him. The brain fog was gone, but he still couldn't manage a single rational thought about Robin.
He just wanted stuff. Wanted to stay with Robin, wanted to believe he wasn't a creepy mafioso. Wanted to believe him, period, but he was making it pretty fucking hard.
He touched Robin's arm, fingertips rubbing lightly over smooth skin. Robin frowned, and his mouth opened, but he didn't wake. Angel kissed him lightly and slipped out of bed.
The ocean was still and dark. They were docked with a bunch of other yachts, most of them smaller than Robin's. The water rippled a tiny bit as the boat bobbed, like wrinkles in black silk. The moon was just setting, full and pale at the horizon.
There was a ladder at the back of the boat, he remembered. He wondered if the water would be warm.
When he let himself down into it, well, it wasn't. It was cool and sort of buoyed him up. He let go of the ladder and floated. He kicked his feet and watched the hull slip away, foot by foot. The moon was touching the edge of the ocean now. It looked so close he felt like he should able to swim into it.
"Angel." It was Robin's voice.
He looked up and saw a dark shape leaning over the side of the boat. He waved, and it waved back.
"You coming in?"
"No, you're coming out."
He was tempted to argue on general principles, but the mood was broken now anyway. He climbed out. Robin touched his wet skin and pulled him close, licked salt water off his neck. His hands curved over Angel's ass.
"Would you like to go dancing?" he asked.
"It's late, isn't it?"
"The clubs here are open all night."
"So, like, dance till dawn, that kind of thing?"
"That kind of thing exactly."
"Okay, sure." He bent to pick up the clothes he'd left on the deck, but Robin took his hand and tugged him away.
"I have some things for you to put on."
***
Angel's new shirt ended a couple inches above his belly button. The new jeans started pretty nearly below his hip bones. They were tight and thin and molded over his ass and his thighs and his package. He was wearing hot pink underwear, and it was a good thing because otherwise he'd be flashing his ass through the rip in the back. The brand name was Hands Free, which didn't seem like an accurate prediction for the future, unless it was talking about how he'd get off, in which case, totally possible.
Robin was molded almost as tightly to his ass as his jeans were. His hips ground forward, and Angel could feel his hard-on through his white linen pants, rubbing along Angel's back seam with every downbeat of the heavy bass.
It was good. The music was fucking awesome, really hot stuff he'd never heard before. Some random guy earlier had told him the DJs liked to premier stuff here. He could see why.
Red Palace was the biggest club he'd ever been in. Four floors, each one crazier than the last, fifty foot bar tops made of lucite with mannequin parts embedded in them, lighting that seemed to change with the music, half naked hot people everywhere. It was like heaven, or maybe hell, with lots of glowsticks and designer clothes.
He and Robin were on the fourth floor. There were dancers in clear plastic boxes suspended over the dance floor, girls and guys. They were all wearing thongs and nothing else. There was something happening on the stage that involved a few naked guys and some really elaborate rope bondage.
By comparison, it seemed pretty tame when Robin started rubbing Angel's crotch in public. The dancefloor hardly counted as public anyway, with the crazy lights and the packed in bodies around them.
"Quit it," Angel mumbled, but the slow roll of his hips against Robin's hand was probably sending mixed messages. This was all so much easier than thinking.
Robin licked at his neck, tongue curled around the chain he still wore and sucking it into his mouth. He bit lightly. "Maybe we should do this up on stage instead. Would you like that?"
He didn't think he'd hate it, but he shook his head and closed his eyes and let Robin grope him. He tipped his head back onto Robin's shoulder and bared his neck for Robin's teeth. Not sharp, he told himself, normal teeth. No blood. Just a dream, just his subconscious expressing his general freaked-outness.
Robin nuzzled his neck, no teeth at all. Just soft lips and a wet, hot tongue. And his hand pushing down the front of Angel's jeans. Or. Someone else's hand.
Angel's eyes snapped open. There was a hot, bare-chested, blond guy with his fingers curled over the edge of Angel's waistband. The jeans were so damn low that he was nearly touching Angel's cock. And god, he was so worked up he would practically pay money for that right now.
"Unbutton them," Robin said. He was talking to hot blond guy and rubbing slow circles over Angel's nipples through his shirt.
Blondie did it, fast and eager, and wrapped his hand around Angel's cock. Angel moaned and felt his knees go weak.
"No," Robin said. "Suck him."
"Fuck, yeah," Blondie muttered, and went down, just like that, heat and wetness and suction around Angel's cock until Angel whimpered and his hips bucked forward.
"That's good," Robin said softly in his ear. "Fuck his mouth. I'm sure he wants it."
Maybe he did or maybe he didn't, but he sure didn't make any move to stop Angel thrusting forward. He took it like a pro, swallowed around the head of Angel's cock, and Robin took that same second to rip the front of Angel's shirt open. One of the buttons landed in Blondie's hair and there among the gelled spikes, glinting.
Robin pinched his nipples and rolled them slowly between tight fingers. He nudged Blondie with his foot. "Let him come on your face."
The guy let Angel's dick slip from his mouth and just knelt there, lips parted, chest heaving. Robin's arm snaked around Angel's waist, and Robin's fist slid up his cock, jerking him off fast and sure.
"Oh, god, god, Robin," Angel said, or mouthed. He couldn't seem to get enough air for words, and then he was spurting all over Blondie's face, and in his hair too, a streak right over the button.
"Fuck," Blondie said. He was rubbing his dick through his jeans, still looking up at them when Robin tucked Angel's cock back in his jeans and led him away a few steps.
"Get us a couple of drinks, Angel," he said, and pointed him in the direction of the grisly bar. He patted Angel's ass as he walked away.
Angel did what he was told. He fucking needed a drink.
"Anything," he told the bartender. "Expensive. Strong. With fruit. Two of them. No, three," he said, thinking of Blondie, who definitely needed a drink as well if he was still there. If he wasn't, Angel could have two.
He was, actually. Angel watched, drinks to match his underwear in each hand and another wedged between his forearm and chest, as Robin gave Blondie a card and a few seconds of serious conversation. Blondie nodded and bounced off into the crowd.
Angel caught up with him by the men's room and pushed a drink into his hand. "Hey. What'd he say to you? You were supposed to stick around for the booze."
"Wow, pink." The guy took a good gulp. Angel watched his throat muscles work. Again. "He didn't tell me. Just gave me his card and said to call. Are you one of his models? Is it a good agency? I don't want to do, like, porn. You know."
Angel looked at him. "You don't want to get mixed up with him," he said, and when he saw Blondie's frown start, "I mean, it's only softcore stuff. So maybe you're down with that? Or you can work something out or whatever. But think about the interview you just had, yeah?"
He left before Blondie could say anything and threaded his way back to Robin. Modeling. Right, sure.
Robin was waiting, standing a little apart from the crowd, which was a clever trick considering it was so rammed in here. He looked almost too good, slim and elegant in white linen that clung to him in all the right places. He was watching the crowd, and more than a few people were watching him back. Angel's guts clenched up.
"What did you say to him?" Robin said, taking the glass Angel offered him.
"I just gave him his drink, said thanks," said Angel, and Robin nodded and slid an arm round Angel's waist, drawing him closer. He watched Angel's face, and Angel knew for certain, somehow, that Robin knew he was lying. Angel wondered if Robin just expected him never to ask. Maybe he did.
Robin pressed up behind him again. He was still hard. He slid a hand over Angel's stomach and up under his shirt, stroking. The stage show changed to a bride and her five bridesmaids, the sort of wedding where the bridesmaids dressed in black leather and chains and carried whips.
The bass shook the crowd. Angel tried to let it fill him up, and let Robin kiss him and touch him all he wanted, but his pulse was beating way too fast and he felt kind of sick. He used to be good at not thinking too hard, so why couldn’t he manage it now?
When Robin said he had to use the bathroom, Angel hung around for a few seconds then followed him. Robin moved through the packed bodies easily. People made way for him, noticing him and stepping back. He drew attention like some sort of freaky human magnet. Angel watched as a dark haired guy smiled and slid his hand around Robin's hips and leaned close. They spoke for a few moments, and he saw the guy’s fingers curl in tighter to Robin’s waist. He laughed at whatever Robin said, and nodded, and went with him through the huge black door into the men’s room. Jesus.
Angel stood there like an idiot until they came out, and Robin saw him straight away. He met Angel’s eyes, then looked away. The guy was holding Robin’s card, staring at it.
“So, I’ll phone you?” the guy said, frowning at it a little.
Yes. We can arrange a meeting.”
“Great. Sure. So, what type of jobs?”
“I’ll tell you more when we meet. Goodbye.”
“Okay. Thank you,” he said, smiling uncertainly.
Robin turned away, the smile dropping from his face like it had never been there. His mouth was closed in a tight thin line.
“Modeling?” Angel said, finally.
“Yes.”
They stared at one another, until Angel pushed back out into the crowd. He didn’t even want to know. He could guess well enough. He shouldn’t even really be surprised. Robin kept him about for sex, as good as paid him for it, so why wouldn’t he decide to make some money out arranging that for other people? It made sense. It wasn’t like Angel was in any position to judge.
“Angel… “
Robin caught his arm, and Angel let him. “You wanna dance?” Angel said, just so they didn’t have to talk or anything.
Robin reached up and ran a strand of Angel’s hair though his fingers. “There are worse things…” he began, and then he closed his mouth. “Yes, of course. I want to dance with you.”
Robin took them into the middle of the dancefloor, where he pulled Angel to him and kissed him, slowly and for a long time, sliding his tongue against Angel's. He wound his arms around Angel’s neck and rubbed his cheek against his face, kissed his neck and stroked his hair. He was hard; Angel could feel it against his thigh, and he was pressing so close that there wasn't even the tiniest gap between them.
"Touch me," Robin said, kissing the corner of his mouth. He slid both hands down to Angel's ass and squeezed, and it felt so good. Angel's knees were still weak and his blood was pumping hard. "Open my pants and stroke me."
"Okay," he said, and he slid his hand between them, got Robin's zip down and carefully took him in his hand. His skin was silky and hot and damp, and Angel could smell his faint sharp scent. Robin lifted Angel's shirt and pushed forward with his hips, so the head of his cock dragged across Angel's bare stomach. He moaned right into Angel's mouth. He kissed him constantly, sucking at his lower lip, sinking his teeth in a little.
Angel dragged his mouth away and watched Robin's face as he started to come. His eyes were slitted, fixed on Angel's. His mouth was pink and wet with kisses, a little slack as he gasped and spilled over Angel's hand and his stomach. Around them, people moved to the music, either noticing or not noticing. Angel didn't know or care. Robin leaned against his chest, breathing hard, and tucked his face into Angel's neck. Angel put a hand on his back and held him as they swayed together.
They stayed longer. Robin spoke to another guy, wandering off with him a little distance but not really trying to hide it. He gave him his card. Angel couldn’t think of anything to say.
Red Palace was on the beach, almost. They stayed until the sun was rising over the Mediterranean. When they came out the air smelled of dry earth and vegetation and the bare concrete driveway was milling with skimpily dressed, disheveled people.
A Mercedes was waiting for them, engine idling. Robin wasn’t saying much, and Angel couldn’t find it in him to speak. He just wanted to sleep, or maybe just jump in the ocean and float away. That sounded good.
He didn't sleep at all. He lay next to Robin for about an hour, then got up as silently as he could, found his kit bag and his cash, took a change of clothes and slipped out of the cabin door.
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no subject
Date: 2007-11-19 10:24 pm (UTC)Strangely enough, it's almost good that Robin isn't exactly trying to hide what he's doing, even though he won't discuss the details openly. But it seems to me that Angel isn't the only one who needs saving from his life.
Angel leaving at the end made me all sniffly. I can't imagine Robin is going to just let him go, and you know Angel doesn't really want to. *angsts*
no subject
Date: 2007-11-19 10:38 pm (UTC)Lots of hot (and kinky) sex, but I wonder what Angel's breaking point is: Robin using him as a bait for whatever the heck he's doing, or the lies/lack of trust (which to me would be more of a deal breaker in their situation). Or maybe the combination was what did it.
I await tomorrow's installment eagerly!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-19 10:58 pm (UTC)*glues self to computer to wait for next update*
no subject
Date: 2007-11-19 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 12:41 am (UTC)*hides in terror*
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 12:47 am (UTC)( =) This was great, thanks <3 )
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 12:53 am (UTC)And speaking of NaNo, I've now officially written fanfic of your fanfic; yesterday I snuck in a couple of lines with Robin and Angel in them.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 02:12 am (UTC)So Angel's at his limit. I can't wait to see how far he gets before Robin reels him back in, or if he even has to. Is it tomorrow yet?
Normally I don't give unsolicited beta advice but I think They'd flown into France and gotten picked up at some coatal town. would read much better as They'd flown into France and were picked up at some coastal town.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 02:29 am (UTC)a slight typo i think.
hmmm. setting up the conflict with angel now.
i can almost feel it. the wanting to leave, yet not.
the feeling of wanting to be just the one,
and not about the money either.
and robin, what is angel to him....
i like the part when he starts to talk, only to stop
i like that. so hakkai-ish.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 02:38 am (UTC)Oh hell. That was a kick in the gut. (You really have me - I felt teary ... .)
Yes, Robin told Angel - and us - that he wasn't a good person. But - but - but ... .
And Angel, the kid from Utah, alone somewhere on the Med coast ... prey for people who are watching Robin to make sure he does his job, and maybe also people who don't like Robin or his boss lady ... if he even makes it off the yacht.
Except, I can see a reason why Robin might have been doing it, and if so, he's really really going to want Angel there when he wakes up ... .
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 03:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 05:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 10:14 am (UTC)Now I'm waiting for tomorrow's chapter.
My addiction is getting worse.. Thank you for your great works!!!
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Date: 2007-11-20 12:50 pm (UTC)Hmmmm... I've been pondering if I should open my big mouth about this or not, because it's the kind of thing that makes me look like an ass, but I would like to comment that it kind of jars me when you mention that Ibiza is near Spain. I know what you were trying to say, being Ibiza an island and stuff, but it still sounds weird to me, as is Ibiza belonged to another country or was independent. And I had to tell you. Forgive my intrusion, please.
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Date: 2007-11-20 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 01:38 pm (UTC)Thank you for your attention.
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Date: 2007-11-20 02:08 pm (UTC)Angel's finally leaving is he?
*cannot stop refreshing the page*
Ahhh.. next chapter..
[By the way, i'm in the middle of my exams period but i can't help but check back really often. *grins*]
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Date: 2007-11-21 09:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-09 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-04-29 11:46 pm (UTC)