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A Paler Shade of Green	By : Rina76 Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3532 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Angel fandom or any of the characters from the show. I am not making money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: Sorry guys, I forgot my password so I haven't been able to log in and update for ages BUT I finally found it and am able to bring you 3 shiny new chapters!! Hope you enjoy and please, tell me what you think!
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Part 13. Truth.
The door to Connor's room cracks open. It's Lorne. His suspiciously-narrowed eyes bulge in disbelief at the shocking scene in front of him.
Connor is lying on top of Kylar on the floor, his hand up Kylar's shirt. They're kissing, their mouths opened deeply to each other, tongues entangled and eyes closed. Kylar is pulling his best friend closer by the shoulders, Connor's thigh pressing intimately between the second teen's spread legs. Like a heavy perfume, Lorne can sense the sexual arousal coming from both of the boys, but especially from Kylar, making the older demon feel as though he's been punched in the gut.
Belatedly, Connor realises they are not alone, hurriedly breaking the kiss and turning his head to catch Lorne's crimson gaze, burning like flaming rivers of volcanic lava. He looks furious. Kylar doesn't even realise Lorne has entered the room, too dazed by the exhilarating sensations of pleasure swirling through his stimulated body, his lashes fluttering and swollen lips still wet with Connor's saliva.
"GET THE FUCK OFF HIM!" Lorne roars in overwhelming jealousy, grabbing the back of Connor's shirt and hauling the thin boy up with a rough jerk. Kylar jolts out of his erotic trance and scrambles off the bean bag with a frightened yelp, seeing how incredibly angry his guardian is. Twisting deftly out of Lorne's grasp, Connor turns on the taller male with vicious swiftness, slamming Lorne back-first into the wall of his bedroom and pinning him there by the throat. Items fall off Connor's bookshelf and crash to the floorboards.
"Touch me and DIE," Connor snarls threateningly, his face close to Lorne's, one supernaturally-strong hand clenched around the demon's green neck, easily able to crush or choke. Kylar is standing nearby looking absolutely horrified. He covers his mouth, gasping out a terror-filled plea to his slayer friend.
"Connor, no! Please don't kill him!"
"Fine, I'll let him live," the aggressive hunter mutters, still holding Lorne prisoner with his powerful grip. "But I can't promise I won't hurt him."
"Kylarkmar, this is between me and Connor. Go to your room," Lorne grits out, trying to keep his voice level and failing. "NOW!"
Kylar jumps at the loud order. With a last panicky look, the eighteen year old Pylean scurries off, eyes filled with fearful anxiety.
When he's gone Connor releases the older man with reluctance, stepping away and glaring at Lorne hatefully. Lorne coughs and rubs at his bruised neck, glaring right back.
"The only reason you're not dead right now is because of Kylar," the younger male growls, showing his teeth. "And don't EVER walk into my room without knocking!"
"I didn't knock because I knew you were too busy get up and answer the door," Lorne snaps, not afraid of Connor or his savagely violent nature. "I heard you panting from two floors down. Yeah, you aren't the only one with super-hearing, vamp-boy. What the hell were you doing?"
"You tell me; you were the pervert listening in," Connor throws back, his pale cheeks flushed with fury. "Do you always eavesdrop on me late at night?"
"I couldn't give a damn about what you do in your own room, unless it involves Kylar," Lorne returns heatedly. "I sensed something suspicious going on up here and I was right. You're supposed to be his friend! How could you take advantage of him like that, Connor? You know how naïve he is!"
"I didn't take advantage of him! He ASKED me to do it."
"Bullshit, he did! Don't fucking lie to me, you little prick!"
"I'm not lying, you asshole!"
Their angrily raised voices can be heard throughout the multi-floored hotel but nobody is game enough to step in and intervene.
"Kylar wanted this!" Pissed off that Lorne won't believe him, Connor irately points down the hallway. "Go and ask him yourself. He'll tell you the truth!"
Frowning in aggravated confusion, Lorne demands, "Why would Kylar want you to kiss him?"
"Because you won't!"
That leaves the open-minded Empath shocked, as if he'd been suddenly slapped across the face.
"Yeah, that's right. Kylar wanted me to teach him how to kiss so that when you finally got off your ass and made a move on him, he'd know how to respond. He was practising. For YOU." Blue eyes blazing, Connor jabs Lorne hard in the centre of the chest, pushing him backwards a few steps.
"He's in love with you, Lorne. And you're too fucking stupid to see it!"
Needing to vent his rage, Connor storms off downstairs to go kill something, the auburn-haired teen almost smashing the front door of the lobby as he slams it violently behind him.
After all that shouting, the formerly-haunted Hyperion hotel is eerily quiet.
Lorne stands there in a bewildered daze, heart pumping erratically. Starting to realise that he might have made an awful mistake and jumped to a very wrong conclusion, the short-haired club owner quickly leaves Connor's room on the uppermost floor and heads down the corridor to the lower levels of the building, descending three flights of stairs in record time, desperate to find Kylar and make amends.
When he opens the door to Kylar's room, Lorne ducks warily, expecting Fredelia to come flying out of nowhere and dive-bomb him but the grey mammal must be outside drinking nectar from the flowers in the garden. The empathic teenager's bedroom appears empty but Lorne can sense him there, hiding somewhere. The poor kid is terrified.
He quietly closes the door, speaking gently. "Kylar? Where are you, sugar-lump? It's me. It's Lorne. Don't be afraid."
There's a small sob from beneath the computer desk. Concerned, Lorne goes over and crouches down in front of the piece of timber furniture. The boy is huddled under there, hands over his ears to block out the sound of Lorne and Connor yelling at each other. He peers up with big, tear-filled scarlet eyes. He's been crying. Feeling horribly guilty, Lorne reaches out to him but Kylar stiffens, pushing himself even further backward.
"Oh no, honey - you don't have to be scared of me," Lorne says with pleading anguish. "I'd never hurt you! I'm not like your master was."
"I know," Kylar mumbles unhappily. "I just don't like seeing you angry."
"I'm not angry anymore, I promise. And I was never angry at you," the older man returns softly, holding out his hand for Kylar. "C'mon, apple-cake. You know you can trust me. Come on out of there so we can talk, okay?"
Sniffling, Kylar wipes his eyes and then hesitantly accepts Lorne's help to emerge from under the desk. His fingers are trembling. He still looks upset and anxious so the first thing Lorne does is wrap the youth in his arms, hugging him warmly and tightly, letting Kylar know that he's not in trouble and isn't going to be punished.
"I didn't mean to scare you, sweetie," Lorne murmurs, placing a few apologetic kisses onto the top of Kylar's head, resting his cheek against the slender boy's silken berry-coloured hair. "I just thought Connor might have been doing something bad to you. I realise now that he wasn't."
"Please don't blame him. I asked Connor to do what he did," Kylar whispers in shame. "I'm sorry for disappointing you, Lorne."
"No, you didn't disappoint me. And I'm the one who's sorry, my little four-leaf clover," Lorne answers regretfully, stroking down Kylar's back to comfort him. "I shouldn't have charged in all guns-a-blazing, bellowing like a mad bull. That was utterly uncalled for. Do you forgive me?"
Timidly, Kylar nods against Lorne's chest. The former slave-child knows that Lorne cares for him very much and would never lift a hand against him in anger but every time someone snaps or shouts at him, it just brings back all those dreadful memories of being back in the village on his home world and Kylar being blamed for anything that went wrong, usually resulting in a sound beating or the sting of a whip. He automatically associates anger with pain and suffering. But he's not there in Pylea anymore, he reminds himself. He is not held captive or owned by anyone. He is in a new world with Lorne now and Lorne only wants to protect him from harm. If he's ever angry, it's only because he's genuinely worried about Kylar and his safety. That's how Lorne expresses his alarm. It's such a new thing for the freed boy, having someone care so intensely about him, that he still hasn't quite gotten used to it or learnt how to stop his own fears from occasionally taking over and paralysing him.
No matter how many times Cordelia cleanses his soul with her divine glowing powers, there are still some things that Kylar needs to let go of on his own, in his own time. Proving that he's trying to – and that he's sincerely thankful for Lorne's heartfelt concern - Kylar returns the hug, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and holding on, the spicy scent of his guardian's cologne soothing him and his jangled nerves.
Combing through Kylar's wavy violet locks, Lorne starts to hum a melody, knowing that his voice has a calming effect on the younger Empath, soon singing a soft version of Hero by Enrique Iglesias.
"Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? Would you run, and never look back? Would you cry, if you saw me crying? And would you save my soul, tonight?"
Good old Enrique – fixing broken relationships and removing panties since 1995. Not that Lorne is trying to remove anything from Kylar, except for any negative notions that might still be upsetting him. Another reason why Lorne choose this particular romantic song is that he can tell Kylar exactly how he feels through someone else's lyrics, without putting his own heart on the line. He can ask questions he hasn't dared to ask yet, without expecting a reply.
"Would you tremble, if I touched your lips? Would you laugh? Oh, please tell me this.

Now would you die for the one you loved? Hold me in your arms, tonight…"
Enfolding Kylar's smaller figure like protecting angel, Lorne tenderly and melodiously continues, "I can be your hero, baby… I can kiss away the pain. I will stand by you forever. You can take my breath away…"
If only Kylar knew how accurate that was. Sometimes the boy's beauty is so incredible, Lorne forgets how to breathe. He wants Kylar so much that he can't bear the thought of anybody else touching him or stealing him away.
"Would you swear that you'll always be mine? Or would you lie? Would you run and hide? Am I in too deep? Have I lost my mind?" Lorne pensively questions himself as he sings those exact phrases, answering with a husky, "I don't care… you're here tonight."
Kylar could have run off into the city after witnessing Lorne's jealous anger and not come back for days but he didn't. Instead he stayed here and is now allowing Lorne to hold him close, to make up for the misunderstanding. That Kylar still trusts Lorne even after seeing him at his angriest…it means everything to the older Pylean. Each touch that the emotionally-scarred boy grants him, every fragile moment of closeness, is like a precious gift that Lorne will keep with him for as long as he lives.
"Oh, I just want to hold you… I just want to hold you…"
There's another verse to the song and a couple more choruses but Lorne's voice is beginning to crack with painful emotion so he soon wraps it up.
In a final whisper, he tells Kylar, "Let me be your hero…"
Lorne closes his eyes and swallows the lump in his throat, wanting nothing more than to be that for Kylar. But he's not a hero. A champion. Never has been. He's just a guy who runs a karaoke club, selling fortunes on the side. All he can do is try his best to provide for Kylar and show him that he's loved, no matter what. Lorne just hopes that that's enough.
Still held closely in his guardian's comforting embrace, Kylar sighs, sad that the wonderful singing is over but greatly reassured by the lingering warmth, caring and gentleness in the elder Pylean's song-words.
"That was a truly lovely song, Lorne."
"Not as lovely as you, my little blackcurrant," Lorne replies quietly.
A little while later, when he's sure the sensitive teenager has completely calmed down from the night's dramatic episode, Lorne ventures, "Kylar, Connor told me something before…Is it true? That you wanted me to kiss you?"
"Yes," Kylar admits shyly, drawing back to meet Lorne's enquiring gaze. "I have wanted that for a long time."
"Why didn't you say something?"
The pretty demon bites his pierced lip. "I was afraid."
Lorne's smooth brows knit together in puzzlement. "Of what?"
"That you would reject me."
"Oh, Lordy. Connor was right. For an Empath, I'm so effing stupid," Lorne despairs, shaking his head and rubbing exasperatedly at that spot between his horns. "That's exactly what I was afraid of as well."
A light frown mars Kylar's youthful forehead as he stares at Lorne. "I do not understand."
"I've wanted to kiss you too, Kylar. God, you have no idea how much I've wanted that," Lorne adds in frustrated regret. "But I didn't do it because I was supposed to be your guardian and nothing more. Plus, there's the matter of me being fifteen years older than you. I thought if I tried to get too close, I'd scare you and you'd push me away."
"I would never push you away, Lorne. Not for any of those reasons." Kylar touches the other male's arm in sympathy. "I do not care how old you are or what your legal title towards me happens to be. Guardian or not, I have wanted to be closer to you in every way possible. I do not want that with anybody else."
"Not even Connor?" Lorne queries, recalling the needy way Kylar was clutching at the other boy's shoulders only minutes ago.
"Connor is my dear friend. That is all. When I was kissing him, I was thinking of you."
"What about Angel? Are you attracted to him?" Lorne then asks, needing to know once and for all. He's seen the worshipful way Kylar occasionally looks at the hotel's handsomely immortal owner.
"Angel?" Kylar appears perplexed. "But he's Connor's father. And he is dead and cold. Why would he attract me?"
"Because he's so dark and brooding and…" The tri-sexual male stops when he realises that Kylar just doesn't get it, the whole mysterious vampire allure. "You actually don't see that?"
"See what? It's YOU I desire, Lorne," Kylar confesses with yearning in his face. "It's always been you. That's why I got the labret piercing – so you'd notice me. So you'd kiss me."
"That's really what you want?"
"It is."
"Fine," Lorne mutters recklessly, deciding to demonstrate some balls and just do it, grabbing Kylar by the face and crashing their mouths together. Determined to erase Connor's make-out memory and replace it with his own, Lorne proceeds to show Kylar what it's like to be kissed by a REAL man!
Surprised and thrilled by the sudden move, Kylar emits an ecstatically muffled moan, lifting up on his toes and curling girlish fingers around the back of Lorne's neck to hold him there, Kylar's golden lip-ring caught and pressed between them both. Shutting his eyes with dizzy euphoria, he lifts his chin to more easily meet the taller male's lips, wholeheartedly accepting the demanding kiss and giving it back, grateful that he now knows how to.
When Kylar opens his mouth in submission, it is instantly filled with Lorne's tongue, the older demon dominantly claiming Kylar for himself, just as the eighteen year old youth had been ever so patiently waiting for. Connor's kisses were nice but Lorne's are hotter, harder, deeper and more possessive, making Kylar's heart pound and head spin as though he was holding his breath underwater.
Lorne tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, like everything adult and sophisticated and masculine, and even though the teenager has sampled some truly delightful delicacies here on this world, Lorne's mouth is the most intoxicating thing he's ever tasted. It's better than sugar, better than caramel or chocolate, even better than bubbly white wine made of the finest grapes. Though it is almost impossible for Kylar to get drunk on this dimension, he believes he could, just by kissing Lorne.
Standing chest to chest in Kylar's room, the two perfectly-matched Pyleans finally give in to their magnetic attraction, their tongues chasing and following each other's - engaging, entwining, separating and then meeting again, stroke after deliciously wet swirling stroke. Softening and slowing his kiss, Lorne wishes he'd done this sooner; Kylar's eager response is sweeter and more satisfying than a mountain of rum-soaked plum pudding at Christmas time.
Eventually, the thirty-three year old male draws back with a last tender peck, leaving Kylar giddy, almost drugged.
Brushing his thumb over the moist swell of Kylar's pierced bottom lip, Lorne whispers, "I hope it was everything you wanted."
"Oh, it was," Kylar breathes back, head still spinning. "Even more."
He gazes at Lorne adoringly, admiring the spectrum of colours on the other Empath's face; deep green markings on his forehead and the side of his cheeks, lips so richly matt-red, underneath his eyes tinted black as night and dark maroon shadowing Lorne's upper lids, reaching right up to his brow bone. The dramatic, velvety hues are almost like human make-up except it is all real and unique and so very attractive to Kylar. A lot of folk on Pylea have little or no facial colouring apart from the tone of their skin and aren't interesting to look at in the slightest but then Lorne isn't like them. He's not like anyone else on that world or even in this one. He's vibrant, flamboyant and distinctively individual and that's precisely what Kylar loves about him.
With shy motions Kylar lifts up his shirt and pulls it off over his head. He then walks over to the bed and lays on it belly-down, moving his hair to the side and casting an inviting ruby-eyed glance at Lorne. Any other guy would see a half-naked fruit ripe for the plucking but all Lorne can see are the whitish strips of scar tissue running down Kylar's bare back.
Frowning at the disturbingly provocative pose, Lorne asks, "What are you doing?"
Kylar's lashes lower. "I am submitting myself to you."
"No, no, no. Don't do that," Lorne quickly dissuades, tugging at the kid's arm. "Get up. Get up!"
Sitting up in confusion, Kylar questions disappointedly, "You do not find me desirable?"
"Of course I do. You're the prettiest creature on all the known dimensions," Lorne replies in a gentle tone, slipping the boy's shirt back on and covering the soft, pale skin of his chest and tiny nipples. "It's just that you're so young and have so much to learn yet. You shouldn't just offer yourself to me without thinking about it first."
He sighs and sits on the bed, raking a hand through the bleached spikes of his short hair, once again wishing Kylar was just a bit older. And less damaged.
"It would be wrong for me to take you like this, before you're really ready. Keep your virginity for a while longer, okay?"
"I don't posses that virtue anymore," Kylar reveals. "Though I have not been kissed before this night, I have known what it is like to be mated with."
"Wait - you're NOT a virgin?"
The teen shakes his head. "I am not. I had my innocence taken from me three winters ago."
Lorne pales under his horns as he calculates Kylar's age back then. "Oh God, don't tell me that the farmer…that he actually forced you…?"
"No, not him. His third son - Gennsendar. And he never took me by force – I consented. He was the only one in his clan who was nice to me. He would bring me water, food, poultices for my wounds. But only when nobody else was in sight. He knew that if he was caught helping me, he would be stoned to death or thrown into the valley of the Drokkens to be ripped apart limb by limb. Gennsendar would come to me at night. I let him touch me. Take me." Kylar's eyes drift downward, remembering the long-haired warrior and the secret soft side that contrasted with his muscled, battle-scarred appearance.
"It was not entirely unpleasant; he was usually gentle. One day he was out hunting with the other warriors and was killed by a Flame Beast. When I heard, I was sad for him. His visits were the only kindness I had been given."
He looks back at Lorne. "Until now."
"You don't have to repay me, lime-green jelly bean. Not at all. I don't know how many times I've told you that."
"That is not what I am doing. I am offering myself to you because I want to. You want to be with me also," Kylar says, touching Lorne's hand. "I can feel it. Your body sings to me."
"Damn empathics," Lorne mutters, turning a deeper hue of green, the demon equivalent of blushing. "But still, just because I desire something, that doesn't mean you should give it to me whenever I want. That's not how relationships work in this world."
"I know that," Kylar responds, wishing he could make Lorne understand that he is not a child with a crush. "On Pylea, I was a traitor, a murderer. A runaway slave. I could not go back to my village. I stayed hidden there in the woods, waiting for the portal to open, waiting for the moment when I could get out of that place forever. The thought of a new world and a new life kept me going, kept me alive. I hid there for over a year and a half, living off berries and nuts and sleeping in a cave, risking death every night not only from cavern-spiders and other dangerous creatures of the forest but from the very hands of my own people."
Kylar's eyes are big and earnest. "I did all that because I wanted to see you again, Lorne. I wanted to go wherever it was that you went. I wanted to hear the sound of your voice and be near you. Be with you. You were my hope, my light in the darkness. I wanted you above everyone else in the universe and I still do. Look into my soul and see for yourself."
With that invitation, Kylar opens his psychic channels, allowing Lorne to view every corner of his being. Amazement widens Lorne's eyes as he probes the boy's mind and realises that everything Kylar has been saying is true. He can tell that the kiss with Connor was simply an experiment, just a lesson, like those learnt in Kylar's tutoring sessions. Whatever arousal Lorne felt in Kylar's aura earlier, it wasn't for Connor. As for the demon-boy's feelings towards the resident blood-drinker of the hotel, they are strictly in the form of hero-worship, the same as a sports fan towards their football idol. Kylar admires Angel's strength and believes him to be great and noble champion; however, he has no desire to see the vampire naked or to be intimate with him. The attraction is simply not there. That fact is as plain and blunt as the horns on Kylar's head.
Or his dreadlocks. Thanks to their empathic connection Lorne suddenly understands why they are so important to Kylar and why he wouldn't let Cordy cut them off. Each matted, twisted rope of hair represents one winter. There are eight of them in total. Eight long winters. Alone. Counting. Waiting. Hoping.
"Yes," Kylar affirms, divining Lorne's thoughts. "Each one of these is one year."
Kylar reverently captures a single berry-coloured cord, gently letting it slip through his fingertips. He looks at Lorne, his gaze honest and open.
"That's how long I have loved you, Krevlornswath."
Lorne is stunned speechless by this revelation. That means Kylar has been in love with him since the boy was ten. How could a mere child know anything of love? How could a mere child choose their future partner above all others in the world when they haven't even begun to live life yet? But even back then Kylar knew that Lorne was the mate for him. He knew it the moment he first heard Lorne sing. That voice – that strange yet beautiful sound - filled Kylar's neglected, downtrodden soul with utter joy and happiness, captivating him forevermore. He quietly followed Lorne and watched him in secret whenever he could, at least until Lorne disappeared. Kylar saw him get accidentally sucked into the portal and though the boy didn't know what it was at the time, he knew Lorne had gone to a much better place and vowed one day to join him.
Even when Kylar was sold into slavery and a gruelling, back-breaking workload consumed most of his time, his every spare thought still consisted of the handsome older man and seeing him again. Even as Kylar was being whipped and beaten on the filthy, muddy ground, he kept thinking of Lorne's smiling face to distract himself from the pain. Even as the farmer's son took Kylar's body in the stables at night, in his mind Kylar was picturing Lorne making love to him.
The only one Kylar wanted, and has longed to be with for eight whole years, is standing right in front of him.
And now Lorne knows it too.
"Crap, here come the waterworks," Lorne sniffles as his eyes fill with tears, greatly touched by Kylar's undying devotion. "Oh, sweetheart. I had no idea you felt that way about me…"
"Well, I do. I love you, Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan. And I have waited many moons to find you." Expectantly, Kylar holds out a hand. "Will you be my life-bound partner?"
"My beautiful peach-pie. You don't even have to ask," Lorne answers emotively, taking the kid's delicate hand and squeezing it. "I've been yours since the day we met and I will be yours for ever."
"I cannot give you any spawn," Kylar says remorsefully. "I am not female and am not capable of breeding."
Lorne waves away his concern. "Ah, I never wanted spawn anyway. I looked after Connor when he was a screaming baby and that was plenty enough for me."
"Then you will mate with me tonight?"
"If you're absolutely certain it's what you want."
"I'm absolutely certain. As humans say: 'One hundred and ten percent'."
"Then you got it, babydoll," Lorne breathes excitedly, cupping the younger Pylean's face with both hands. "But no lying on your stomach. I want you to look at me when we do it, okay?"
"Okay," Kylar agrees. "I like looking at you. You are very, very handsome."
Hardly daring to believe it, Lorne asks, "You think so?"
Kylar nods. "I believe the human football player and undergarment model David Beckham is the epitome of male beauty in this dimension but you are far more eye-catching than him, Lorne. He lacks colour and his nose is too small. His voice is also beyond atrocious."
"You think I'm hotter than David Beckham?"
Smiling, Kylar caresses Lorne's masculine jaw. "Yes. I do."
"Thank you, ruby-lips. You've just made me the happiest demon alive," Lorne gushes, pulling Kylar into his lap and kissing him again, intending to thank the boy for his compliment in the most enjoyable (and least clothed) way possible.
…......
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A Paler Shade of Green