Fandom: Angel
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Groo+/Lorne, past Groo/Cordelia, hinted past Lorne/Angel
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Groo leaves Lorne in Las Vegas.
Word Count: 1,444
Written For: 1 Million Words Rare Pair challenge and Nekid Spike's Mini Nekid Guest of March 2023: Groosalugg
Warnings: Slight AU, Follows the author's The Warrior and the Bodyguard
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
"I have to go," he spoke as humbly as in the first days Lorne had known him, which now felt almost a lifetime ago.
Lorne turned from him as he examined his cuffs. Everything had to be perfect about his outfit, or these people would eat him alive. He was barely keeping them at bay as it was, but as long as he continued to turn in the audiences in droves, he was safe. Getting the hunky Knight behind him out of the picture would keep him safe as well for whoever was pulling his proverbial strings was not quite yet ready to reveal their hand. He could pull him aside, whisper to him that he needed him to go get Angel and co, but Angel had his own problems. He didn't need to involve him in his. Besides, every time he'd accepted help from Angel in the past, it had always turned out bad, usually with the complete destruction of his bar. What was he going to do if he asked him to help him this time, destroy all of Las Vegas? There were some pretty decent people, including Demons oddly enough, here in Sin City.
Lorne flicked up his cuffs. He should have known this was coming. The place was named Sin City for a reason, and despite all the good people just trying to make a living, there were plenty of bad as well. It was no place for a hero, a Saintly hot stud muffin, particularly the Knight before him who persisted in being so naïve. "Well, sweetheart," Lorne answered, turning back to face him, his own face firmly in place, "it's been fun."
"You are... not going to argue that I stay?" the Groosalugg asked, almost seeming a bit hurt.
"No can do, kiddo. You're right. You were right before. This isn't the scene for you." Lorne carefully touched the mousse in his hair. He had to make sure that everything was in its correct place, even if something very much felt like it was going wrong. He was going to miss this man. He was going to miss always having a companion upon whom he could trust and rely. He glanced up into Groo's face and was caught by surprise. For a moment, he stared at him, his heart thundering like mad in his left butt cheek.
Okay, so maybe he was going to miss him as more than a friend. He was going to miss... Something he'd never had, and was never going to have, Lorne told himself firmly not with him or Angel or any other hero. They didn't look at him in the same way he did them, and not just in the homoerotic sense. He pressed his red lips firmly together, silencing the sight that raised in his throat. When he thought he could trust himself to speak again without revealing his true emotions, he told him, "You just be careful out there, all right, you big lug?"
"I do not understand." The poor dear looked genuinely perplexed. "I thought -- "
"You thought what? That I was going to hold you against your will? That I was going to try to make you be somebody, something, you're not? Never gonna happen, sweetheart. Of all people, I know how important it is to be able to be our true selves. I'm glad I got to show you the sights. I thought, maybe, you'd find a sweet thing out here and sweep her away to safety -- "
"You thought I would find love in this," he faltered for words, "this den of ...?"
"Go ahead. You can say it. Inequity." Lorne nodded. "Yeah. I knew there were plenty of sweet things out here just grooving for a hero, and I thought maybe you could be that hero." He grinned. "Those few flings you did have -- "
"I never -- "
"No, you never bedded any of them. You're too good for that. But they did get your mojo going a couple of times and made you forget about old What's Her Name -- " Sorry, Brown Eyes, he thought with a pang of despair. He hated that she was missing, but as much as he loved Cordelia, he'd come to love Groo even more in the last couple of months. Besides, it was a honest fact that the man deserved better.
"Cordelia," Groo was quick to supply.
Once more, Lorne looked to him with surprise in his red eyes. "You just continue to surprise me, muffin."
"I am not -- "
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Things had never been going to work between them, he thought. They were too different. The Groosalugg was truly a Knight of old come to far too modern a time. He was too noble, sweet, and chivalrous for his own good. "You just promise me you're going to be careful out there, okay?"
"I may not be a warrior of Angel's level, with his Vampiric abilities, but I can more than handle my own -- "
"Oh, I'm well aware of that, sweetheart." He looked almost as yummy as Angel did when battling, as well, and he didn't have the tendency to tear a house down. "But I'm talking about people. Be careful with people. I've saved your cute behind from even selling your soul in the few weeks we've been out here, and no matter where you go, there are always going to people who want to take advantage of your -- "
"My good will?"
"Sure, we'll go with that." He'd actually been thinking, once again, of how naïve Groo was. He was so suspectable to anything with a sweet face and the right genitalia between her legs.
"Thank you, Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan," Groo said, standing tall and straight and pressing a closed fist to his chest over his heart. "You have been a true friend, and I shall never forget your kindness in showing me this world. But it is now time for me to make my own way."
"Yes, yes, sweetheart, go do it your way," Lorne turned from him, not wanting the Knight to see the betraying tears beginning to fill his eyes. "You'll be joining a lot of big names in doing that -- " He paused, focusing on straightening his lapels.
Suddenly, he felt very, very alone, more alone than he had been since Angel had first walked into his life, as alone as he had been the first day he had found himself in this world that he had come to love so very much. A quick glance over his glittering should confirmed his suspicions: The Knight had gone. With no further warning, Lorne was alone.
He sniffed, but wiped the tears carefully from his eyes. He could not afford to show sorrow or any other genuine emotion this night for Las Vegas was indeed full of vultures and they were all out to devour him. Someone had sent for him to come here. Someone had lured him right into their glitzy, grand trap, and he, desperate for a place where he again actually felt that he belonged, had walked in willingly. At least Naivety Boy was gone. Hopefully, he would find a safe place somewhere out in the great, big world of liars and con artists, but wherever he went, he would be safer than he was here, waiting in this trap for it to finish springing shut.
Lorne glanced one more time at his triple mirrors. "Well, sweetheart," he said, blowing himself a kiss, "you've come this far. At least you won't be dying alone in Pylea." Yet, as he walked out and headed for his show, surrounded by humans and Demons of all kinds, he had not felt more alone. No, he thought, correcting himself, he had felt this alone before -- back in his home world, back in Pylea, where all forms of kindness and creativity had been frowned upon and even punished. He had survived that; he could survive this as well. And who knew? Maybe, just maybe, once Groo had seen the wonders of the world, he might find them lacking, as Lorne himself had, and return to him.
That wasn't very likely, Lorne knew. The Knight showed no interest in sexuality other than laying his entire life at the feet of a Princess. He showed no interest in men as Lorne had, but hey, a guy, even a green-skinned Demon caught in a pretty, huge trap, could dream, couldn't he? And if he was going to go down anyway, he'd do it with style, suave sophistication, and his way. Lorne sang.
The End