Fast Times at Sunnydale High

*





Lindsey showed up at Angel’s house a little before eight o’clock on Saturday night. Evil Hand was practicing there, like they always did, even though they didn’t have any gigs lined up for the next little while. They were mostly about having fun and goofing off, anyway.



Oz wasn’t there yet, so he took his guitar over to the ratty old couch with him, and absently tuned it as he sat, while Angel fiddled with his drum set.



“What?” Lindsey asked after a few minutes of silence, wondering why Angel was looking at him like that.



“You’re fuckin’ queer,” Angel said, not at all accusing, but with a certain measure of awe. It wasn’t as if he minded, entirely. Oz was gay, and he was completely cool with that, but… he just hadn’t seen it coming. Really hadn’t seen it coming.



“What are you talking about?” Lindsey asked. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Wesley to Oz or Angel, but he hadn’t gone out of his way to hide it, so it was possible that Angel had stopped thinking about himself and whether or not he could get Buffy to wear the cheerleading outfit, minus the little red panties, for a private cheer, long enough to notice something about one of his best friends.



Angel smiled. “I’m talking about you and your little nerd, out at the Sun last night, all over each other. Lindsey, man, if you were going to switch teams, at least you could have found someone better that him.”



“Hey!” Lindsey protested. “There’s nothing wrong with Wes.” Angel snorted at that, and Lindsey’s first instinct was to punch him in the nose, but instead he chuckled. He couldn’t really be too upset about it. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d though about as much of his boyfriend as Angel did. But he knew better now. “Once you get to know him, I swear, man, you’re gonna like him.”



“Once I.... No way. If you want to fuck the little twerp that’s your business, but don’t expect me to hang out with him.” Angel was joking around, mostly, and honestly, Lindsey would have thought it odd if Angel hadn’t been giving him a hard time.



Lindsey rolled his eyes. “You know, I’m thinkin’ he’s gonna have a much harder time learning how to like you.”



“Come on,” Angel said, grinning and preening. “Everybody likes me.”



“Yeah, must be real nice where you are,” Lindsey teased. “Anyway, how the hell did you know I was out with Wes last night? I didn’t tell you.”



Oz walked in then, from the door to the house, with his bass slung over his shoulder, and slowly ambled across the floor to the area they had the equipment set up, putting his instrument down and looking at Angel and then Lindsey.



He tilted his head in hello, face remaining passive, as ever. “S’up?”



“Oh,” Angel said, with a shit-eating grin. “We’re just talking about Lindsey’s new hobby of taking it up the ass.”



“Shut up!” Lindsey ordered.



“Oh, yeah,” Oz added, neutrally. “Heard about that.”



“What?! What the hell did you hear? And who the hell from?”



Oz shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. To him it wasn’t. Lindsey was into guys. So what? Oz had been for as long as he could remember, and it wasn’t as if Lindsey could really have expected that nobody would notice. “Ran into Harmony this morning at the Espresso pump. Said she saw you and Wes at the movies together. Together together.”



“Yeah,” Angel said, nodding. “Buffy called me this afternoon, said she heard from like, a dozen people that you guys were practically doing it by the snack bar.” He didn’t even get through the sentence without letting out a small chuckle, but in his defence, he did try to hold it in.



“Shit,” Lindsey whispered. He didn’t mind people knowing about him and Wesley, he hadn’t been lying to Wes when he’d told him he wasn’t ashamed of him, but he hated to be the subject of gossip, and Lindsey McDonald turning gay was gossip for the ages. “And what the hell’s so goddamned funny, anyway?” He snapped, glaring at Angel.



“Nothing,” Angel answered, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just... Linds, man, you’re gay. And that’s... okay, maybe not funny, but... it’s a bit of a shock.”



“No, you’re right,” Lindsey agreed, and rested his guitar between his legs on the ground. “It is a little funny. I can honestly say I wasn’t expectin’ this either. And I don’t even know if I am gay.”



“Do you like having sex with men?” Oz asked, trying to be helpful.



Lindsey glared at him. “I like having sex with Wesley.”



“Hmmm, good point,” Angel said, pretending to take it very seriously. “I’m not sure if he’s really a man, so yeah, you might not be gay.”



“Funny. No I just meant that I’ve never thought about any other guys, so I don’t know if it’s just him, or... does it matter?” His question was directed at Angel, because he knew it didn’t matter to Oz. Hell, he knew it didn’t matter to Angel either, but Angel was bound to make a lot more fun of him than Oz ever would, no matter what the answer turned out to be.



Angel didn’t disappoint. “Well, I just want to know if I should avoid waving my ass at you. Wouldn’t want you to go and jump me because you can’t handle how hot I am.”



“Oz,” Lindsey asked. “Can you think of one reason, even just a really tiny one, that we hang out with this shithead?”



“We get to play in his garage, and his brother gets us beer,” Oz offered. “Two reasons.”



“Plus, you love me,” Angel said, smugly.



Lindsey snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, we do. Shithead.”



“So,” Oz said, kicking lightly at his bass. “Practice?”



***



That night Spike and Wesley had a few people over. Wesley’s father was out of town, as usual, and Hellmouth was getting together to practice anyway, so they figured they would throw a party, and use Spike’s band as the entertainment.



Wesley had argued that calling it entertainment was a case of false advertising, but most of their friends knew that already, and everyone always had a good time, regardless, so he conceded that no harm would be done.



At around ten o’clock, and after a couple of drinks, Hellmouth took their first break, and Wesley found himself chatting with Faith near Spike’s kitchen sink.



“I wonder where Charles is tonight,” Wesley commented absently. He usually showed up to things like this.



“How the hell should I know?” Faith asked, defensively, and screwed up her face.



Wesley looked at her, scrutinising. “Right, sorry. Just thinking out loud.”



“Thinking about what?” Spike asked, coming up behind Faith and wrapping an arm around her.



“Hey, hands off, blondie,” Faith said, grinning, then pushing his arm off her and stepping out of the way. “You’re a one woman guy now.”



“Bugger,” Spike said, and honestly looked like he was in mourning for a fraction of a second before he broke out in a grin. “So what we talking about?”



“I was just wondering where Charles was, and Faith just about took my head off.”



“Well,” Spike said, looking over at Faith and completely ignoring her pleading look. “That’s cause she’s sweet on him, and gets all flustered when anyone mentions his name.” He was entirely too pleased with himself, and Faith punched him. Hard. In the arm.



“Really?” Wesley asked. He hadn’t even considered that. Perhaps he should pay more attention. “You and Charles?”



“No!” Faith balked, and punched Spike once more for good measure before walking off to find someone else to talk to. She didn’t need to stand around and listen to that shit, even if it was true.



“She so is,” Spike said to Wesley. “Oh, and he called me earlier. His little sis is out on a date, so he’s staying home and waiting up. Poor guy.”



“I think they’ll be good together,” mused Wesley, watching as Faith wandered over to Anya and some others. They were both good friends of his, and he loved them dearly, and now that he considered it, he thought they could really make each other happy.



Spike snickered. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re in love now, and you want everyone to be.”



Wesley looked at him.



“Oh, alright. I think so too.” He laughed. “But then, I think I might be in the same boat as you, Wes.”



***



An hour later the band took their second break, which ended up lasting the rest of the night. Nobody minded, in fact some were truly thankful, and Spike tossed on a few CD’s, and the rest of the night was filled with dancing and drinking and hanging out.



And Connor, though he wished he could just ignore him altogether, seemed to be almost as caught up in Wesley as he had ever been, and couldn’t seem to stop looking at him, following him, talking to him, touching him.



When Wesley went to the fridge to grab a couple of beers for himself and Anya, Connor was there, standing next to him, leaning over him, arm brushing against him, to grab one of his own.



When Wesley sat on Spike’s bed arguing with Jonathon, Andrew’s best friend, over who was the best captain of the Enterprise, Connor was there, standing on front of them and laughing and pretending he had any idea what they were talking about, and beaming with pride when Wesley drunkenly called one of his bullshit statements about which one was the cutest ‘genius’.



And then there was some comment about Andrew and Captain Archer that sent Jonathon and Wesley into hysterics, that Connor didn’t understand and he excused himself to get another drink.



When Wesley slumped on Spike’s couch, smiling as he watched Spike and Fred talking and kissing, quietly in the far corner, and wishing that he’d thought to invite Lindsey tonight, Connor came to sit beside him, so close that their legs touched.



Wesley was feeling more than a little buzzed, and despite missing Lindsey, more than a little happy, because he’d be with Lindsey again soon, and tonight he was with his friends.



“Having a good time?” Connor asked, pushing his leg against Wesley’s and nudging it, lightly.



“Hmmm? Oh, yes. Though, this is my house; I should he asking you that question,” Wesley answered, with a smile that melted Connor.



“I’m good,” Connor told him, and couldn’t help but return the smile with a ridiculous, adoring look.



Wesley looked over at him and nudged his leg back. “You know, you guys are really beginning to suck much, much less.” He hoped it was clear to Connor that he was talking about his band.



Connor laughed and, as casually as he could manage, rested his hand on Wesley’s thigh. “Thanks,” he said, and Wesley could hear the eye roll in his voice. “We have fun.”



“And that’s what matters,” Wesley told him, thinking, in his drunken haze, like most everyone did, that he knew all there was to know. “You need to do what makes you happy. Anything else is just a waste of time.” He nodded, a punctuation to his statement, and let his eyes go soft as he looked at Connor. He really was a terrific boy, and he really thought that they could be friends, now that he’d stopped trying to have sex with him.



“Do what makes me happy?” Connor asked, and leaned a little closer to Wesley.



“Of course,” Wesley said, completely, stupidly, oblivious.



“You make me happy,” Connor said, and leaned even closer. He lifted his hand up to cup the side of Wesley’s face. “This makes me happy,” he confessed, and closed the short distance between them to kiss Wesley, so gently he thought it might hurt.



Wesley couldn’t help but respond at first; who could, when someone you’re physically attracted to kisses you? But it was wrong. He was with Lindsey, and he’d told Connor that this couldn’t continue. “Connor,” Wesley said, a little short of breath as he pulled back and pushed at Connor. “We talked about this.”



“Yeah,” Connor answered, and brushed his lips against Wesley’s again. “And I get it. We’re not a couple. But we also talked about us still being attracted to each other, so what’s wrong with this?”



“Connor,” Wesley started, and then his breath caught as Connor’s teeth closed down on the side of his neck. “Fuck, Connor, God.”



“Mmmm,” Connor mumbled, around Wesley’s skin. “Yeah, this is good.”



Yes, Wesley thought, Yes, it was good. But it shouldn’t be. “No,” he said, gently pushing Connor away. The boy was tempting, but he loved Lindsey. He was the only one he wanted. “No, it’s... Okay, it is good. Very good,” he admitted with a snort. “But... it’s not right. I’m sorry,” he said, and placed Connor’s hand on the boy’s own leg, pulling back so that they weren’t touching at all.



“Wes,” Connor protested. “I promise, I won’t ask for anything more than this. Don’t worry.”



“Connor,” Wesley told him, and shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he said, which was true, but not the most important thing he could have said.



“Please, Wes,” Connor tried. “I know you want me. Just... please...”



“I did,” Wesley half agreed. “I did want you. And yes, I still find you attractive. God, I’d have to be a much better person not to, but... no. I don’t believe that you would take it only as a physical interlude, and more importantly...” He shook his head, and Connor grabbed for his hand again.



“I’m in a relationship,” Wesley said, quickly, avoiding the touch. “I’m with someone, and I’m very dedicated to making that work, and yes, I’m attracted to you Connor,” he told him, and Connor’s hand drifted into his lap and clenched tight over his cock.



Wesley once again pushed Connor’s hand away. “But I have a boyfriend.” Even if he wasn’t with Lindsey he still would have turned Connor down, but he didn’t know if it would make things better or worse to tell him that.



“Sorry,” Connor said, and pulled his hands back like they’d been burned. He really didn’t want to hear about Lindsey, and Wesley’s relationship with him, how perfect the son of a bitch was. “I hope... Well, no, I’m not gonna say that I hope you’re happy with him, because I don’t. I hope you’re happy with me. I think I’m way better for you than he could ever hope to be, and I really wish you could see that.”



Wesley shook his head, heart breaking because he had to go through this all over again, put Connor through this again. Why the hell could the kid not just let it go? “I already am happy, Connor. And you will be too, I promise. You just need to let yourself.”



“Yeah,” Connor said, completely unconvinced, and got up, wandering off, hurt and angry and trying not to think about the fact that Wesley was right.



***



Monday evening at Lindsey’s house Wesley was completely content to get trounced at Lindsey’s video football game, especially since each time his boyfriend made a brilliant pass or scored a touchdown Wesley was treated to a celebratory grope.



It wasn’t long after Wesley noticed the pattern that he began to do poorly on purpose, and it wasn’t long after that that they had forgotten about the game entirely and were rolling around on Lindsey’s basement floor, acting every bit the hormone-filled teenage boys they were. And they loved it.



It wasn’t long after that that Lindsey’s stepmom shouted down the stairs that she was home, and with twin grunts of frustration the boys climbed back onto the couch and opened up a couple of books, in case Missy decided to come down. And since they had nothing better to do, they actually managed to read a little.



At school on Tuesday, Wesley noticed Connor having lunch with Andrew. Or, Faith noticed it, and pointed it out, loudly, and thought it was pretty funny, but Spike growled a little, under his breath, and made it quite clear that he didn’t think Andrew was good enough for Connor, especially after the way he’d treated Wesley last year.



Anya pointed out that just because the boys were both gay, and probably lonely, and Connor was heartbroken and most likely looking for a good rebound distraction, there was no reason to think they were having sex with each other. They were just eating lunch.



Wesley, though he knew he had no right, felt an irrational flare of jealousy at the thought that his two ex-shags might be shagging each other, but then Lindsey walked past his table, with Oz and Angel, on their way to or from somewhere, and winked at him, and he forgot all about Connor and Andrew.



Wednesday morning before classes started Wesley and Lindsey met at their lockers, and stood close together, and traded a few inconsequential words between all the kisses they exchanged. When Angel showed up to meet Lindsey so they could walk to class together, making gagging sounds and pretending to hide his eyes from the sight of them, they broke apart, smiling, and Wesley watched Lindsey go, bumping into Angel and sending the larger boy stumbling.



Thursday night Wesley called Lindsey and told him he wasn’t coming over that night, because exams were coming up the following week, and since not everyone was as naturally gifted as Lindsey, he wanted to stay home and get some studying done.



But Lindsey promised to behave himself, and he couldn’t argue with the fact that he might want to give his notes a quick once over before he wrote his exams, and Wesley, to his surprise, only had to spend half the night denying Lindsey’s advances, and for the first time, they actually managed to study together.



***



Friday night, after promising Spike, a dozen times, that he’d be very, very careful, Wesley borrowed Spike’s car, and drove to Lindsey’s house.



He was a little nervous, because he hadn’t told Lindsey he was coming over, but he figured Lindsey would be happy to see him, regardless, and only hoped that he would agree to go out on such short notice. He knocked on the door and waited, and after several seconds the door was opened by Lindsey’s stepmother.



“Oh hi!” she greeted with a pleasant smile. “Wesley, right?”



He swallowed and blinked and snapped his eyes up from her chest – and why the hell did she always insist on wearing such revealing clothing? – and tried to smile back. “Er, yes. Nice to see you again Mrs. McDonald.” And how weird was that, calling her Mrs. McDonald? They’d attended the same high school at the same time!



“Please,” shaking her head and stepping back to allow Wesley entrance. “Call me Missy. You’re here to see Lindsey?”



“Yes,” Wesley answered. “Is he home?” He knew he was, he’d talked to him on the phone an hour ago, and Lindsey had said that he was planning to spend the night in and do a bit of cramming for finals, but he had a feeling Lindsey was going to like what he had planned better than that.



“Sure,” she said, in that sugary voice of hers that would have been irritating if it weren’t so honest. “He’s downstairs.” She held out her arm in the direction of the stairs, indicating that Wesley go and find him.



“Thank you,” Wesley said, and made his way down.



When he got the bottom of the stairs, he froze, dick hardening in his pants so fast that it almost hurt when he saw the television, volume muted, but displaying the unmistakable image of two men involved in some very pleasurable looking activities, and they were gorgeous.



Wesley didn’t watch very much porn – it was always too fake, and the men were usually too hairy or too muscled or too old, and it didn’t really do a lot for him – but this, from the 10 seconds he’d seen so far, was much better quality than what he was used to.



He looked around the room, not seeing anyone, and took a few quiet steps forward until he could see over the back of the couch, and his breath caught when he found Lindsey lying there, staring at the television, pants unbuttoned, and gliding his hand over his slick erection, moaning quietly and taking hitching breaths.



Wesley wanted very badly to join him on the couch, take his clothes off, and Lindsey’s, and act out in real life what was currently happening on the television screen, but there was something else he wanted more, and he put a lid on his desire, at least for the time being.



“Am I interrupting something?” Wesley asked with a smirk, voice playful, and raised his eyebrow when Lindsey stilled his hand and whipped head around to face him.



“Wes!” Lindsey croaked, heart racing from the shock of being caught, and tried to discreetly adjust his pants to hide his raging hard-on. As he did, his hips rolled a little and he landed on the remote, hitting the volume button and sending the sounds of moaning and panting and one man begging for ‘more’ and ‘harder’ while the other called him a ‘good little bitch’ into the otherwise silent room.



“Shit,” he cursed, and scrambled for the remote, shutting the television off completely, and sitting up straight, then looked sheepishly back at Wes. “I was just...” And it was pretty obvious what he was doing, but he was too mortified to say it, so he let the sentence die and sort of winced, waiting for Wesley to say something.



“Just jerking off to two men fucking?” Wesley offered, clearly getting a kick out of catching his boyfriend like that.



Lindsey sighed and waved his hand over the couch next to him and Wesley sat down, smiling. “This whole liking guys thing is kinda new to me,” Lindsey started. “And I sort of needed to...”



“Needed to find out if you really are attracted to men in general, or I’m some sort of anomaly?” Wesley had never been through that himself, but he’d talked to people who had, and he understood. Or hoped he did. “I think the verdict is in,” he offered with a quirk of his lips and a nod at Lindsey’s crotch.



Lindsey chuckled and tucked himself back in properly, fastening his pants over his fading erection. “Yeah, guess so,” he agreed. “Sorry, babe. This really isn’t a habit,” he said, indicating the television and the video that had been playing. “I’m just trying to figure some stuff out.”



“Lindsey, it’s fine,” Wesley assured him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “It’s not as if I don’t enjoy this kind of thing from time to time. I think you’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t, and truly, I don’t mind.”



“Still...” Lindsey said, not ready to admit that he had enjoyed it as much as they both knew he had. He’d watched plenty of girl-on-guy action, and quite a bit of girl-on-girl, but two guys.... yeah, he’d been getting off on it, but it was... new.



“In fact,” Wesley continued, with a flirty look. “If I didn’t have other plans for us, I’d encourage you to continue while I watched.”



“Other plans?” Lindsey asked, finally realising that Wesley was at his house when they hadn’t talked about that happening. “What plans?”



“I’m taking you out on a date.”



***



TBC