Fast Times at Sunnydale High

*





It hadn’t taken Connor nearly as much convincing as he thought to get Wesley to come home with him. He’d only had to grab his crotch through his pants on the dance floor and promise Wesley that he could do whatever he wanted with it when they were at his house, safely tucked away in his room. And Wesley had practically led the way there, nearly jogging the whole 8 blocks, and racing up the stairs, dragging a laughing Connor behind him.



They had come together as soon as the door closed, Connor assuring him that his parents were gone for the night, and they barely managed to separate their lips enough to pull their shirts up over their heads, and didn’t even bother trying as they frantically worked their pants down and off.



“Fuck, Connor, yes!” Wesley cried as Connor took his hard dick in his hand, pumping it slowly, fingers extending to tickle over Wesley’s balls on the down stroke. “Fuck, I’ve got to have you.”



He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, like he had last time, and all the times before that, that this wasn’t a good idea. But fucking hell, Connor had been all over him, all night, driving him mad, and he wasn’t exactly in control of his faculties, and now Connor was naked, and so was he, and it was all he could do not to just throw the boy down and take what he wanted.



Connor, if it was possible, was even more eager for this than Wes, and he wrapped his arms around the older boy, tumbling them to the bed together, lips still closed over each other’s, tongues still tangling and searching. Wesley wrestled Connor under him, though it didn’t take much effort, but as he tried to nudge Connor’s thighs apart the boy stopped him, pulling his mouth away, and putting a hand on Wesley’s chest.



“I was kind of...” he started, and closed his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. He was glad they were both kind of drunk, still, because he didn’t think he’d have the courage to ask for this if he were sober, but he really, really wanted it.



“You were...” Wesley prompted, not really listening to what Connor was saying, not really interested. He just wanted to get on with it, because Lindsey had looked extraordinarily hot that night, and Connor was very good at this, and Wes was extremely worked up, and if he didn’t get to fuck something, soon, he thought he might die. He went back to kissing him, lips placing small signs of affection over his jaw and neck and shoulder, and tried to wriggle his way between the boy’s legs again, but Connor’s voice stopped him.



“I was hoping that I could, you know... be on top.” He bit his lip and looked down, both because he was feeling shy about asking, and also because he knew Wes thought he looked cute like that, and more than once that combination of sweet and coy had gotten him what he wanted. He hoped it would this time, and he hoped that Wesley wouldn’t just up and leave because he’d asked, and go find someone else to get his jollies with.



Wesley didn’t leave, but he did sit up, abruptly, and shake his head. “No,” he said, simply, and directly, but he couldn’t deny that his body was screaming yes. It had been a while since he’d taken it. A very long while and he was almost desperate for it again but... not here, not now, and not with Connor.



Stupid, he knew, but he didn’t love Connor, not even close, and it hadn’t stopped him from doing everything else they’d done, but he knew if he let Connor top, that the dynamic between them would be changed, that Wesley would be made, only temporarily, and only in his own mind, to feel vulnerable. And he had always been the type to want to save that feeling for someone that he truly cared about. Like Andrew. Like Lindsey.





“I’m sorry,” he told Connor at the younger boy’s crestfallen expression, hand reaching forward to tangle in his thick brown hair. “It’s just that... I don’t...” There was really nothing he could say that wouldn’t sound horrible, he knew that, but he nonetheless desperately searched through his mind for the thing that would be the least offensive.



“No, I get it,” Connor said, voice biting and harsh. He pulled back out of Wesley’s reach and sat up on the bed, glancing down, and noticing, horrified, that Wesley’s erection was starting to wilt, but his own remained unaffected by the sudden change in mood. “I’m good enough for you to use to get your rocks off, but since you don’t really even like me, you’re sure as hell not going to return the favour!”



Wesley dropped his eyes to the bed between them and took a shaky breath. He couldn’t deny what Connor had just said; it was the truth, and at least they both realised that, but he still felt terrible. “I’m sorry.” It seemed like he said that a lot to Connor. This... arrangement... between was completely destructive, and Spike was right, it had to end. “I’ll go.”



Wesley adjusted his weight and made to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and get up, but Connor’s vice-like grip on his wrist stopped him. “Don’t,” the boy said, quietly.



Wesley shook his head in confusion, but remained where he was for the moment. “Connor...” Not five seconds ago Connor had looked like he wanted to hit him, and not he was asking him to stay? What the hell was he playing at?



“Don’t go,” Connor said again, as quiet as the first time, and then his eyes shot up to meet Wesley’s, pleading and insistent. “Please.”



Wesley tugged on his arm and was slightly surprised when Connor let go of it immediately. “I really don’t think I should stay.”



Connor was a blur of movement, and before Wesley could even tell what was happening, his flaccid cock was enveloped in Connor’s warm mouth, lips and tongue and teeth dancing over the skin and restoring him back to full hardness.



He cried out, from surprise and pleasure and his hands shot down to Connor’s head with the intention of pulling him away, but Connor chose that moment to swallow, very slowly and deeply, around Wesley’s length, and Wesley only ended up pushing the boy’s face closer his pelvis, thick patch of pubic hair, tickling his nose.



Wesley had never gone from complete disinterest to painful arousal in so short a time, and when Connor pulled away from him not even a minute later, spared a quick moment to grab a tub of Vaseline off his bedside table and hand it to Wesley before lying down, on his stomach, and raising his hips slightly, to display his entrance to Wesley, Wes thought he would shoot his load on the spot.



But then Connor turned and looked up at him, his face a picture of hurt and anger, and commanded “do it,” in that same hard tone as before, and Wesley managed to come back to himself a very tiny bit, and remind himself that this was very wrong. He shook his head and tried to back up, but his traitorous body only moved forward a few inches so that he was kneeling almost behind Connor.



“Connor...”



“Just fucking do it!” He felt rejected enough that Wesley obviously didn’t care enough about him to let him do the fucking, he’d told him already, a couple of times, that he didn’t like Connor as anything more than a friend, but now Wesley didn’t even want this? Was Connor really that disgusting?



Wesley saw the silent question in Connor’s eyes, along with a healthy dose of glistening salty water, and shook his head, moving close enough that he could smooth a comforting hand over the boy’s flank. Connor jumped slightly at the touch, but relaxed into it quickly enough, closing his eyes and puffing out a sharp breath.



“This was a bad idea, Connor,” Wesley said gently. “Keeping up a physical relationship when one of us wants more out of it than the other. I don’t feel about you the way you want me to, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”



He felt Connor’s body twitch and his breath catch slightly and leaned forward to place a kiss on the small of his back. “You’re a wonderful person, attractive and funny and incredibly caring, but I just don’t...” he sighed, attempting to further gather his thoughts. “But we’ve been through all this. And for God’s sake you don’t need to offer yourself up like a whore just to get some attention!”



He felt Connor flinch and cursed himself for getting so angry, for being so insensitive, but he found himself suddenly and extremely hurt by the way that Connor was acting. Wesley had thought that they were both getting something out of this, but the way Connor was behaving at the moment seemed to imply that it hadn’t been the case. He hated Connor for just a second, for letting himself be used, and for letting himself be miserable, and for the part he’d continued to play in Wesley being such a complete bastard.



Wesley crawled forward again, laying himself down on the bed next to Connor and pulled the other boy to him, hands rubbing back and forth across Connor’s arms, a gesture meant to comfort and calm them both. “You deserve better than this,” he whispered, lips ghosting over the shell of Connor’s ear.



Wesley was right, Connor did deserve better, but fuck it all, this was what he wanted! Okay, he wanted so much more from Wesley than empty physical gratification, but it was immensely gratifying, and at least he could pretend for a little while, when they were like this. He took Wesley’s hand, entangling their fingers, and turned just enough that he could meet Wesley’s lips with his own.



Wesley froze, but after several seconds, responded. He wasn’t hungry or demanding like he had been a few minutes ago, and the kiss lacked a great deal of passion, but it was honest, and Connor appreciated that. “Please,” he asked again, and pushed his hips back against Wesley’s.



Wesley closed his eyes and tightened his hold on Connor before reaching for the previously discarded Vaseline. This is wrong, he reminded himself, and Connor deserved so much more than Wesley was willing to give him, but at least he could give him this.



***



“That’s been better,” Faith said, on an inhale of smoke from Spike’s cigarette as they lay together on his basement cot, naked and sweaty and not particularly satisfied.



“Oh, I’m sorry.” Spike voice was facetious, holding a hint of humour. “Would her majesty like me to try again?”



“I’m begging you not to,” Faith said, rolling over and pulling her shirt on.



“Fuck off.” Spike swung his legs around too, looking for his underwear as Faith slid into her tight-fitting pants. “It’s not like I was the only one who didn’t perform at the level they were expected.”



“What the hell does that mean?”



Spike looked at her as if she was very, very slow. “What the hell do you think?”



“Well, maybe if you hadn’t been thinking about Lindsey’s little twig the entire time, it would have gone a bit better.”



“And maybe if you hadn’t screamed out ‘harder Gunn’, I would have been able to focus!”



Faith looked up then and snorted, and shortly after erupted into a fit of giggles, and soon had Spike joining her. They fell back onto Spike’s bed, side by side, Faith fully clothed and Spike at least in his underwear, and they shared the rest of the cigarette in silence.



“You should go for it,” Spike told her, when he’d crushed the butt out in the ashtray on the table next to the bed.



“Huh?” She blinked at him and tried hard not to fall asleep. It had been a long day, and she had to be up early for work in the morning.



“Gunn. You should go for it.”



“No way.” She shook her head. “I’m not his type.”



“What? Smart, hot, funny, talented and great in bed... usually... isn’t his type? How could it not be?”



“Cute,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “No, I just... don’t have a lot to offer. To, you know, a boyfriend.”



“Pet,” Spike told her, turning to face her and looking far more serious than he usually did. “You’ve got so much to offer that poor old Charlie won’t know what to do with it all.”



They’d been fucking for quite a while, Spike and Faith, and she usually had an incredible time, usually looked forward to it and was sort of sad when it was over, but it was times like these, the times Spike made her feel like she was good, special, and... loved... that she treasured most of all. He was certainly a hell of a friend.



***



Wesley woke up the next morning feeling like shit, and not even because of the booze and pot he’d consumed the previous night. He felt sick about the way he’d treated Connor, in general, but especially last night, when he’d heartlessly fucked the boy as Connor silently sobbed into his pillow, and left as soon as they’d finished, leaving Connor in messy pile of cum and tears, without a word.



He’d wanted to say something, to reassure him somehow, but he knew anything he said would be either lies or empty platitudes, so he’d kissed him on the back and dressed quickly, and when Connor didn’t turn to face him afterward, too ashamed to show Wesley what he was feeling, Wesley had left him to it, and went home to his own misery. He hated himself for what he was doing, and he was beginning to hate Connor for not only letting him, but encouraging it.



He stomped down the stairs into Spike’s room at 7:30 in the morning, showered and dressed and ready for school, knowing that Spike would be none of those things and not caring in the least. He wasn’t surprised to find him in bed, empty bottle of Jack Daniels, and a ashtray full of cigarette butts of the floor, groaning and pulling the covers up over his head at the racket Wesley was making.



“Get up,” he said, feeling unreasonably angry at Spike for still being asleep, and grabbing hold of the covers, yanking them down and off the bed. “Oh, God, would it kill you to sleep with something on, at least?”



Spike snickered as Wesley shielded his eyes to avoid looking at Spike’s naked body. “Get over it,” he said, voice hoarse, and lazily stretched out his entire body before rolling over so that at least his morning erection was hidden between him and the mattress. “Not like you’ve never seen it before,” he mumbled into his pillow.



“Yes, and I was hoping I’d never have to again,” Wesley said, dryly. “I’m traumatised enough, thank you.”



Spike turned his head and opened his eyes the tiniest bit, looking at Wesley through the slits. “What the hell is wrong with you this morning?” He’d been awake for less than a minute, and already he could tell that Wesley had woken up on the seriously wrong side of the bed that morning. Only question was whose bed?



Wesley sighed, half in frustration that Spike still wasn’t getting up, and half in frustration at himself for taking out his sour mood on his friend. He sat down on the bed and leaned back, using the blond’s bare arse as a place to rest his elbows.



“Fuck, watch where you’re sticking those!”



Wesley snorted, smiling briefly and moved over a few centimetres. “Sorry,” he said. “Rough morning. Rougher night.”



Spike turned his head again to hide his face in his pillow, hoping that Wesley would take the hint and leave him alone. “I don’t want to hear about it,” he told him, and he really didn’t. He knew what had probably happened with Connor, and he felt bad, for both of them, but Faith had been right. This was their problem.



“Yes, well,” Wesley said, sitting up straighter and looking across the room. “School starts in half an hour.”



“Not today it doesn’t,” Spike mumbled. “Not for me, at least. I’ll try to make it in for lunch.”



Wesley rolled his eyes and stood to leave, picking up Spike’s blanket from the floor and carrying it with him. He dumped it again at the foot of the stairs before he started up them. There, he thought with a nod. Now Spike would either have to get up, or freeze.



“Dick,” Spike called out, as loudly as he could without making his headache worse.



“Lazy shit,” Wesley answered, but when he went upstairs they were both smiling.



***



Thursday night at Lindsey’s house was tense at first. Wesley was still feeling guilty over the Connor situation, and seeing Lindsey was only making it worse. He couldn’t help but feel that he had betrayed Lindsey somehow, even though it was utterly ridiculous. There was nothing going on between them, they hadn’t even kissed, for the love of God, and Lindsey was in a relationship!



Wesley should feel free to do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted, but he didn’t. They’d almost kissed. And that almost had been enough to give Wesley hope that something might change between them, and the last thing he should have been out doing was sleeping with somebody else, using somebody’s body for his pleasure and somebody’s emotions against them to get what he wanted.



He was exaggerating, he knew. It hadn’t been entirely his fault, and he hadn’t behaved that badly, considering, but it had still been wrong. For more than one reason.



And Lindsey, though he didn’t feel like he had any right to be, was angry. And the fact that he felt his emotions were unjustified only made him angrier, and he’d been taking that anger out on Wesley, snipping at him and ignoring him, and kicking his ass, mercilessly, in several violent video games.



He didn’t know exactly what was going on with Wesley and Connor, but the little freak had told him that they were together. Wesley had denied it, and he’d believed him, but then last night he watched them dance and kiss and leave together, and even though, really, it wasn’t any of his business, he wanted to scream, or punch Wes in the nose, or probably both, because Wesley had lied to him.



“What the hell is your problem, Lindsey?” Wesley asked, uncharacteristically aggressively, after Lindsey’s avatar shot Wesley’s an unnecessary twenty or so times, in the head, chest and primarily groin, while disturbingly realistic looking blood trickled from the animated wounds and Lindsey mumbled something obscene.



“What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, scowling, and tossed his game controller down on the table in front of them. “I’m just playin’ the damn video game. Not my fault if you suck at it.”



“No, but is your fault that you’ve been cold, and rude, and have barely said two words to me, since I’ve arrived, that could be any way construed as friendly.”



Lindsey took a short, deep breath, to calm himself somewhat and nodded. “Yeah. I just really don’t feel like doin’ this tonight.”



Wesley narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Doing what?” he asked, and then shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, standing up. “I’ll go. I’m tired anyway, and I could do with going home and getting some sleep.” He was feeling much too raw to be able to deal with Lindsey in whatever kind of mood he was in, too vulnerable and worried that if he didn’t give Lindsey some space, the other boy would wind up hating him. He’d obviously already managed to do something to deserve the cold shoulder, and he didn’t want to invite any more opportunity to screw up their friendship.



“Yeah, I’ll just bet you’re tired,” Lindsey said, under his breath, but not so quiet that Wesley didn’t hear him. “Up all night with your boyfriend?” Lindsey looked up at Wesley and spat out the contemptuous question, unable to keep it in, and mentally shook himself.



“I told you before,” Wesley said, slowly, and trying not to look as guilty as he felt. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” Neither of them failed to notice that he didn’t deny that he’d been up late.



“That’s not what it looked like to me,” Lindsey said, half snarling, half pouting. Wesley almost wanted to laugh, it looked so... cute. And funny. Almost, but he was still feeling so terrible and starting to get angry with Lindsey for acting the way he was.



He sighed and closed his eyes, realising that Lindsey must have seen him with connor the other night, behaving very much like they were boyfriends. Again, he thought what an incredibly bad idea that had all been. Well, there was no point in lying about it, not that he thought he would have been able to anyway, not that he had any reason to, he reminded himself.



“Connor,” he said.



“Yeah, Connor.”



“God, Lindsey, listen to yourself,” Wesley told him. “Why the hell do you care? First you’re jealous of Spike, now Connor, who, for the record is not my boyfriend, although we have been carrying on a physical relationship that came to a very disastrous end last night.” He sat back down, some of the anger draining from him at the hurt he saw in Lindsey’s eyes at his admission.



“You know that I’m... that I have feelings for you.” Wesley was well aware that Lindsey was developing some feelings of his own, but he clearly wasn’t willing to act on it yet, and it wasn’t fair of him to get so jealous, so possessive, even if Wesley was not-so-secretly getting off on it. “And I appreciate the friendship we’ve established these past weeks, and I hope that it can... grow,” he said, careful not to use any words that might freak Lindsey out before he was ready, and trying to gauge his reaction.



“But you can’t expect me to pine after you, to want you and desire you alone, when there’s no reason for me to think that it would ever pay off. For God’s sake, you have a girlfriend!” He didn’t say that Lindsey wasn’t attracted to him, that Lindsey wasn’t into guys, because they had both realised, a while ago, that that wasn’t entirely true anymore.



“We broke up,” Lindsey said, slight feeling of loss sort of tickling at his insides, even though they both knew it had been the right thing to do.



“What?” Wesley asked, shocked at that, to say the least.



Lindsey shrugged. “We broke up. We just weren’t... attracted to each other like that anymore.” He just knew his entire body was screaming out because now I’m attracted to you, but he was frozen to the spot, his eyes pleading with Wesley not to push this, not today.



“Oh.” Wesley knew that his chance was staring him in the face at that moment, if he wanted it. He could lean forward, press his lips against Lindsey’s, kiss him, touch him, and the other boy would let him. Let him do that and probably a great deal more. And probably regret it shortly after, or possibly during, because he was clearly still hurting over the break-up with Fred, and he was still unsure what exactly his feelings for Wesley would mean.



And Wesley was through using sex to make people feel like shit. There was plenty of time, he hoped, and he was sure now, absolutely positive, that Lindsey would come around, and Wesley would give him a bit of time, if that was what he needed.



“Oh!” he said again, but this time with a cheerful, knowing, half-leer, that made him look like an idiot, in an attempt to lighten the mood.



Lindsey appreciated it. “This doesn’t mean...” He snorted and trailed off, not even bothering to finish the lie.



“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Wesley agreed, still smiling.



“Like you said, we’re... we... friendship.”



“Yes, of course.”



“I mean it.”



“Whatever you say.”



Lindsey couldn’t keep his smile in after that and picked his game controller back up, then Wesley’s, tossing it at him. “Shut the fuck up and let’s play.”



Fifteen minutes later most of the tension had gone from them both and even though things were far from normal, or perfect, they were alright, and both boys were doing their best make things easier. Lindsey had even let Wesley win the last round, and they were trying to decide what game to put in next, when they heard a high-pitched, over-friendly voice coming from the top of the stairs to the basement.



“Lindsey, how many times have I told you to rinse your dishes before you put them in the dishwasher...” he stepmother started as she came down the stairs. “Oh!” she exclaimed, when she saw Wesley sitting next to him. “You must be Lindsey’s study buddy. Hello boys.”



“Er... hi,” Wesley stumbled over the words, not able to think of anything appropriately polite to say. Lindsey’s stepmother was young. And hot. And she sort of looked familiar.



“Hey Missy,” Lindsey started, and at her reproachful look cringed and shook his head. “I mean mom.” Fuck, she was only three years older than he was, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t the odd sexual dream about her, on a fairly regular basis, and he had to call her mom? She was dumb as a post though, so that helped to keep his desire in check, and him out of therapy.



“Aren’t you boys having a hard time studying without any books?” she asked, raising a stern eyebrow and looking around the room.



“Yeah, sorry,” Lindsey said, getting up and switching off the video game system. “We were just taking a break. We’ll get back to it.”



She smiled in approval and Lindsey rolled his eyes when she looked toward Wesley. “What are you boys studying for?”



“History,” Lindsey mumbled and Wesley reached into his book bag to grab his text, holding it up, proof.



“Mr Ryan?” she asked, brightly. They nodded. “Tell him hi,” she said, smiling coyly and twirling a lock of her long blonde hair around her finger.



“Yeah,” Lindsey mumbled, thinking there was no way he was doing that, and Wesley tried not to look down her very low-cut top. It normally wouldn’t have been a problem, what with him not liking tits and all, but she was very attractive, and the top was very low-cut.



She smiled a vacant smile and waved. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” she said to Wesley and went back upstairs, ass swaying deliberately behind her.



“You’re stepmom’s cute!” Wesley whispered, after the door at the top of the stairs had closed.



“Shut up Wes,” Lindsey groused. He didn’t need the reminder.



And then Wesley remembered how he knew her. “I thought she was Angel’s stepmom,” Wesley said,



“She was.” Lindsey shook his head and Wesley barked out short burst of laughter.



And then he remembered where else he knew her from. “Remember when she was a senior and we were freshman?”



“Shut up, Wes.”



“Say, didn’t Tucker ask her to the prom?”



“Shut up Wes!”



***



When Wesley left Lindsey’s house that night, the first thing he did was call Spike. He felt like a fourteen year old girl, and he knew Spike would call him one, but he was so ecstatic over the way his situation with Lindsey was developing that he just needed to gush about it.



Spike was at the Espresso Pump and had tried to tell Wes to fuck off, but he’d hung up his cell phone as soon as he found out where Spike was, leaving Spike warning a dial tone to leave him the hell alone, and drove there as quickly as he could.



“Spike!” Wesley called out and waved, seeing his familiar stark blond head seated at one of the tables, and it wasn’t until he had walked over that he realised that Spike wasn’t alone. Fred was with him, sitting across from him, and smiling, as Fred always smiled, but there was a sadness to it that Wesley couldn’t ever remember seeing before, and he was pretty sure he knew the reason for it. And even though he was glad, he didn’t like to see Fred looking like that.



“Oh, Fred, hi.” He frowned slightly, not really having expected to see her there, but he shook it off and let himself relax into his natural state of feeling good whenever was around her. “I’m sorry. You know, about you and Lindsey.” He was trying to be, anyway.



Spike rolled his eyes, completely unsurprised at Wesley’s lack of tact. And not believing him for a second. He knew that Wes liked Fred, and knew that he’d be feeling bad for her if she felt bad, but there was no way in hell that Wesley would be sorry that her and Lindsey had split.



“Thanks,” she told him, smiling sweetly. It figured, she thought, that Lindsey had told Wes about what happened. She hoped he told him more than just that, and hoped he hadn’t, and really, didn’t know what to think or feel, except glad that Spike was around. “I’m not exactly doin’ back flips about it, but things haven’t been right for a while. It was kinda time, you know?”



Wesley nodded, but couldn’t think of anything else to say.



“Well, I guess I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said, assuming her time with Spike was over for the night, now that Wes had showed up wanting his best friend back.



“Wait, pet,” Spike said when she stood, touching her arm with the tips of his fingers to stop her from taking off. “Let Wes give you a lift, yeah? Least he could do after crashing our tea party.”



“Oh, yes, of course,” Wesley agreed, shaking his head and apparently regaining a bit of politeness.



***



“So, what was so important that you had to break up my date?” Spike asked, after they’d dropped Fred off and were lounging on Wesley’s bed.



“Date?!” Wesley squeaked. “You were on a date? With Fred? Really?”



“Well, not as such,” Spike admitted in a low murmur. “You showed up and sort of ruined the mood, not that there was much of one. We were just hanging out, talking. Was trying to get a feel for over that idiot she is.”



“And is she?”



Spike shrugged. “She loved him. You don’t just get over that this fast. Even if you know splitting up is the right thing to do.”



“So are you still planning to pursue her?” Wesley wondered.



Spike looked at him. “Yeah,” he said, and pulled a face like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s incredible, that one. Not lettin’ her get away. I’ll just have to take things a bit slower, make sure she’s ready.”



Wesley thought that was a very good idea, and really hoped Spike didn’t screw it up. Fred would be good for him.



“So?” Spike asked, a minute or so later, and kicked Wesley lightly in the foot.



“So what?” Wesley asked, blinking his eyes open and acting like he hadn’t just been somewhere else.



“So why were you desperate for my company?”



Wesley sighed dreamily and smiled, relaxing back onto his pillow, and propping his feet up on Spike’s lap. “I think I’m falling in love with him, Spike.”



Spike looked at him, askance, and narrowed his eyes. “No, you mean you want to be his fuck toy. You can’t actually love him, Wes. You hardly know him.”



“I know him better than you think,” Wesley said, not letting Spike’s negativity get to him. “I know you think I don’t, and I don’t want to hear it again, because you’re wrong. We have… something. Sure, some days have been... harder than others, but overall it’s been... amazing. He’s amazing.”



Spike sighed and shifted, elbowing Wesley out of the way to lie down next to him. He knew there was no sense arguing with Wesley when he sounded like that. It was the same way he sounded when he’d told Spike that he had asked Andrew out, and he’d turned out to be very in love with the little shit.



Maybe he was falling in love with Lindsey, but Spike hoped not. He still thought there was nothing but heartache in that for Wesley, and he didn’t want his friend to have to go through that, but there was nothing he could do, unless he wanted to really piss Wes off.



“What happened to when you were in love with me?” Spike asked, wistfully, remembering the days when he had been the object of Wesley’s desire, and he’d known, even though he hadn’t reciprocated, that he’d never have hurt him.



“I’ll always love you,” Wesley told him, shifting and turning his head to rest it on Spike’s shoulder and look into his eyes. They were quiet for a moment, something close to an honest display of emotion passing between them before they both erupted in giggles and Spike playfully pushed Wesley away.



“But I do, you know,” Wesley said, quiet and serious.



“Yeah yeah,” Spike brushed him off and kicked him in the ankle. “Stupid jackass.” Wesley knew he meant I love you, too.



“I know you think I’m crazy Spike, but he likes me. I know he does. And it might take a little bit of time, but I’m going to get him.”



“Yeah?” Spike asked. “How you gonna do that?”



“I’m going to seduce him.”



TBC