Helping Hand

***



“You know,” Lindsey said when the door clicked shut behind Spike. “You could have put have put a note on the door. Or at least closed it. Anybody could have walked in. Or are you tryin’ to advertise the fact that you’re a fag now? Maybe make some new friends?”







Wesley resisted the urge, just barely, to punch Lindsey, and said calmly, “It was just a kiss, Lindsey. Hardly anything I think I’d need to hide.” He wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, even if he was only beginning to discover what exactly that was.







Lindsey snorted and tossed the book he was holding back down on his desk. “I’m pretty sure you were doing more than kissing while he was spending the night.” Oh, crap, why couldn’t he just shut up? He knew he sounded like a jealous freak, and the more he talked, the worse it was going to get, but he couldn’t help it. He was pissed off.







Wesley obviously didn’t seem to have a problem with realising that he swung both ways, so why had he been with Spike instead of Lindsey? Why had Lindsey spent the last three days trying to forget the type of pleasure that he and Wesley had indulged in under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights, while Wesley had been experiencing those indulgences all over again, but with somebody else?







Lindsey conveniently managed to ignore the fact that he had made himself unavailable these past days, even if Wesley had wanted something more from him. Managed to ignore the fact that he wasn’t sure what he would have done if Wesley had come to him. It wasn’t hard. Especially when Wesley didn’t try to deny what he’d done with Spike.







“The door wasn’t open then, Lindsey,” Wesley informed him, and when Lindsey’s eyes shot up to meet his, angry and surprised, Wesley held the contact for a number of heartbeats.







Eventually though, Lindsey blinked and looked away, and Wesley sighed, loudly. “Lindsey, I don’t know what’s going on between us just now, but this is ridiculous.”







“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Wes,” Lindsey answered, turning a falsely sweet smile on the other man and flopping down on his bed, stuffing the ear buds connected to his portable mp3 player into his ears. “Everything’s fine.”







Then he closed his eyes and said, “I’m gonna take a nap,” and hit play, blocking out any further comment from his roommate.







Wesley had pretty clearly implied that he hadn’t been able to forget about what had happened between them any easier than Lindsey had, and although in some ways that was good to hear, it also scared him. He didn’t want to deal with it at the moment; he was tired and confused and feeling a little bit hypocritical, and really did need that nap.







Wesley balled up his hands into fists at his sides and clenched his teeth to keep quiet as his roommate shut him out and acted like everything was completely normal. It was ludicrous. They both knew things were fucked up, and Wesley wanted to talk about that, find out what they both wanted and try to resolve things somehow.







But, it seemed that Lindsey didn’t. Fine. If he was going to pretend everything was hunky dory, well then Wesley was too. He only hoped he could pull off the whole ‘casual cool’ thing that Lindsey seemed able to apply perfectly, because inside he was going crazy.







***







Four hours later, and half an hour before Lindsey had his afternoon class, Wesley decided to put his ability to act pleasantly indifferent to their current situation to the test. He had already been to his class and come back and his roommate was still sleeping, splayed out on his back, one knee bent slightly, one hand on his stomach, one arm thrown up over his head, snoring softly. He looked adorable.







Wesley smiled at the sight and shook his head, telling himself to forget about thoughts like that and concentrate on behaving as he would have last week. He bent down in front of Lindsey, hooking his finger around the wire that connected one of the ear buds to the source of music, and with a flick pulled it out, spilling the muted sounds of horribly harsh music out into the quiet room.







He stood straight up again and cleared his throat, hoping to wake the other man, but he only snored a bit more loudly and rolled over on his side. Wesley smiled again, and fought the sudden desire to climb in beside him, fall asleep next to him with Lindsey’s hard, strong body wrapped tightly in his arms.







“Lindsey,” he said, rather loudly. He was both trying to get the sleeping man’s attention and to shock himself out of his musings.







Lindsey jolted awake at the sound of his name intruding on a wonderful dream about something he couldn’t quite remember, and sat up to find Wesley standing just a little too close to him for comfort.







He had a fucked up flash of himself grabbing Wesley and pulling him to the bed, Wesley landing on top of him, and kissing him, long and hard and deep and in a way that they hadn’t had the patience for last time, but he pushed the thought back quickly and tried to look annoyed at being woken up.







“What?” he asked, pulling out the other earpiece and shutting off his music.







“You’ve got class in less than a half hour,” Wesley informed him. “I thought you might like to attend for a change.”







Lindsey gave Wes a look of sarcastic thanks, but managed not to actually sick his tongue out. He wouldn’t have time for a shower, but figured he didn’t smell too badly, so a change of shirt would probably be enough until later. He crossed the room to his dresser, and picked out a new t-shirt, stripping off the old one and tossing it in the vague direction of the laundry basket in the corner.







He got as far as sticking one arm into the new shirt when he felt Wesley’s eyes on him and turned around, naked from the waist up, watching Wesley watch him. “Do you want me to do this somewhere else?” he asked, and it was stupid he knew, because they had never had a problem changing in front of each other before.







“Don’t be absurd,” Wesley answered, thinking that there was no way in hell he’d want Lindsey to take his clothes off anywhere but in front of him ever again. “Everything’s fine, right?”







“Yeah,” Lindsey agreed, somewhat uncertainly and finished dressing. Okay, now he had twenty five minutes to kill before he needed to be in class. What the hell was he supposed to do? He decided to try to talk to Wesley.







“So, uh. What have you been up to?” Besides Spike. Oh, yeah, that didn’t sound lame at all.







Wesley was thrown a little by the totally ordinary question. “Um, nothing really. Classes. Hanging out with friends. The usual.”







That reminded Lindsey that he hadn’t been to class much this week and needed to make up what he’d missed. “Can I borrow your notes? I got kind of busy and couldn’t make it to class.”







“Of course,” Wesley answered, going to his bookshelf to get down his notebook and find the notes that Lindsey had missed. “Busy?” he asked as he worked, wondering why Lindsey had disappeared completely.







“Yeah,” Lindsey said going over to stand near Wesley and wait for him to find what he needed. “Practicing. Got just over a week now before I get cut from the team if I don’t win something.”







Wesley stilled for a moment in flipping through his loose pages as he realised that he had been right and Lindsey probably had been with Angel these past days, since Lindsey had been so busy ‘practising’. He found the sheets he needed and shoved them into Lindsey’s chest forcefully, annoyed at his suspicions being confirmed, but forced himself to relax and smile and wait until Lindsey grabbed the papers before he stepped back.







“How is that going?” he asked, and congratulated himself for being so genuinely concerned about it.







Lindsey laughed a little, not much humour behind it and answered, “Better. But I’m still not there yet. I don’t know what the hell my problem is. I used to be so damned good at it!”







“And I’m sure you will be again,” Wesley consoled. “All you need is more practice. Obviously it’s been working these past days if you see an improvement. Just keep at it.” He really did want to see Lindsey succeed. For all the recent awkwardness between them, Wesley did care about Lindsey and didn’t want him to have to leave school.







“Yeah, but the guys are all too busy to keep helping me out as much as they have been. Too much ‘school work’ to do. Fuck it. Either I’ll win next Saturday or I won’t. No use worryin’ about it now.”







“I could…” Wesley started, wanting to offer his roommate help if he needed it, but once he realised what he was saying stopped, thinking he knew how Lindsey would take the offer, and not at all intending it that way. Well, maybe a little.







“You?” Lindsey spluttered, half laughing half squeaking. Wesley could not honestly be suggesting they try that again. Not after what happened last time. Not after what he’d seen today.







“I believe you had a similar reaction last time I offered my assistance, until I brought you down without breaking a sweat,” Wesley replied, posture stiff. “Face it, Lindsey. I’d be able to help you, and you need help.”







“You want to help me with wrestling,” Lindsey clarified, and Wesley nodded. “You and me,” he continued. “After practice, in the gym… wrestling.” Again Wesley nodded.







“Are you sure your new boyfriend won’t get jealous?” Oh, God, and why could he not just keep his mouth shut about that?







Wesley sighed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”







“Look, whatever man,” Lindsey said, pushing past him to make his way to his bed. “You want to take it up the ass from that punk retard, it’s none of my business.” He collapsed on the mattress closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, not really intending to sleep any more as he only had a few minutes before he had to leave for class, but just to get a bit of privacy and hopefully stop the rest of the conversation from happening.







“What makes you think I was the one taking it?” Wesley snapped. “Especially after…” he stopped himself before he could go any further, and mention something that neither of them really wanted to mention as Lindsey’s eyes shot open, and he turned a hard glare at Wesley.







Wesley hadn’t intended for Lindsey to find out about him and Spike. At least, not until he was sure that he didn’t have any kind of chance with Lindsey, and he had certainly not intended for Lindsey to find out the way he did.







He felt bad about that, though Lindsey disappearing for three days went a long way towards showing Wesley that he obviously hadn’t thought too much of what had gone on between them, so Wesley was starting to get a little angry that he was acting like some sort of... jilted one night stand.







Wesley snorted to himself without much humour as he thought that no, that was really what he was.







“Look, Lindsey,” he took a calming breath and steered the conversation back to Lindsey’s wrestling problem. “You’re my friend.” At Lindsey’s raised eyebrow he amended, “sort of. I know how important your wrestling scholarship is, and if there is anything I can do to help, then don’t be a moron and let me.”







It was Lindsey’s turn to snicker then, as he thought about exactly how Wesley had ‘helped’ on Monday night. Helped him so good he’d walked funny the next day and spent the two after that screwing some chick he couldn’t stand, just to try to get his cock to forget all about that kind of help.







And after coming home this morning, he had been glad that he did. Wesley had blown him off after they’d fucked, and clearly hadn’t been shy about getting it on with that Spike asshole, so why should bother feeling bad about Harmony? He shouldn’t. And he didn’t.







And Wesley was right; if it wasn’t for his scholarship he wouldn’t be able to afford school, and bizarre as it was, Wesley seemed to be pretty good at wrestling. Lindsey used to be pretty good too, which was why he had been given the scholarship in the first place, but for some reason, lately, he couldn’t seem to get his shit together.







He really couldn’t turn down the offer of someone to practice with, if Wes was willing to help, but he was worried about what would happen when they got back on the mat together, caught between hoping that Wes would fuck him into the ground again, and hoping he wouldn’t.







“I’m seeing Harmony,” he blurted out, and screamed at himself in his own head for saying something so embarrassingly random and so entirely untrue. In fact, he was hoping to never see her again, if he could help it.







“Who?” Wesley asked, instead of asking what that had to do with anything, because he was pretty sure he already knew. Lindsey was letting him know that he was unavailable, that he’d met someone, and he wasn’t interested in Wesley, and if he did accept his offer of help, Wesley had better keep his dick to himself, and that only made Lindsey’s reaction to Spike all the more infuriating. But he couldn’t deny the flicker of jealousy and anger that went through him, though he knew he had no right to feel those things.







And he was sort of relieved that it wasn’t Angel that Lindsey had been seeing.







“Harmony Kendell? Cheerleader. Friends with Cordelia Chase,” Lindsey informed him. “I met her at Angel’s place. That’s where I’ve been staying, by the way.”







“That’s… that’s good. That you’ve met someone. Because you haven’t been out with anyone lately. And you should. See someone. Everyone should. People are… People need… people. And… It’s… good. It’s -” Wesley shut his mouth in the middle of his latest sentence, if you could classify anything he’d just said a sentence, in some sort of effort to stop his sudden onset of verbal diarrhea.







“It is good,” Lindsey said, and cursed himself for not only telling the lie, but perpetuating it when he should really just stop. talking. “She’s dumb as a brick,” he admitted, “but she’s hot, and she’s a good lay.” Okay, so at least those last three things were true.







Wesley felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Lindsey had had sex with this Harmony girl, and he’d liked it, and he was going to keep on doing it. Never mind the fact that the same was true of himself and Spike, the fact that that blonde bimbo was good enough for Lindsey and he wasn’t made him feel sick and worthless.







“Yes, that’s, um, terrific,” Wesley said, blinking rapidly against his uncomfortable feelings and trying to will himself over the confusion. “Would you like my help or not?”







Lindsey sat up on his bed then and looked at Wesley, neither of them saying anything for almost a full minute. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “That’d be great. Thanks.”







He didn’t look at his roommate as he stood up and collected the book and pen he needed for class and left the room without another word.







***







When Lindsey got back from class that afternoon Wesley wasn’t there, but there was a note on his desk from Wesley saying he’d meet him at the gym that evening after wrestling practice.







He considered calling Wesley on his cell phone to tell him not to bother, that he could handle things on his own, but he knew that wasn’t really true, and if he had to put up with a bit of an awkward situation for a while then that was what he’d do, because he didn’t really have much of a choice. And okay, fine. So the situation was more than awkward, it was completely fucked up, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate.







To say that Lindsey was having an off day at practice would be putting it mildly. He got his ass handed to him. Repeatedly. By just about everyone on the team. Even the coach’s 12 year old daughter, who sometimes came to the evening practices with him, informed Lindsey that she could ‘beat his sad little pretty boy butt, blindfolded with her arms broken’. A few of the guys had actually wanted to see that.







But in his defence, his mind wasn’t exactly on this game. It was on a different sort of game. One that he was playing with a boy who was way sexier than any boy should be allowed to be, and who Lindsey couldn’t stop thinking of. One that involved lies, deceit, sex, betrayal, and the lack of all those things as well. One that he sort of wished had never gotten started, but it was too late for that now.







In less than an hour Wesley would be there, and they’d touch and they’d grab and they’d let aggression out to play, and whether they admitted it, to themselves or to each other, they’d be working out more than just Lindsey’s fighting skills.







***







Wesley was already there. He had arrived early, to watch the practice before everyone else went home, and he and Lindsey were left alone. He was standing in the very top row of the bleachers, behind a bar and next to the door, and he was fairly certain that nobody would notice him there.







He took the time to watch, admiring the boys’ fluid movements in a way that had very little to do with sexual fantasy. Well, perhaps a little more that little, he revised as he watched one boy pin another to the mat, the pinned boy on his back, arms held over his head, knee bent up with the winner over top of him, and Wesley’s cock twitched in his pants.







Whenever it was Lindsey’s turn, however, it did more that twitch. Even though his roommate had half the grace and skill today that he usually did, and he usually didn’t have all that much of it, Wesley was still mesmerised. Watching his arm muscles ripple as he grabbed hold of his opponent and tried in vain to get them on the ground, watching his legs work in those sinfully tight shorts as he dug his feet into the ground and tried to prevent himself from going over, was making Wesley’s jeans uncomfortably tight.







And seeing Lindsey face down on the ground, time after time, as another and another and another of his team-mates took their turn on top of him, he found it extremely hard not to pull out his aching prick right there in the stands and give himself some release.







He did consider running to the washroom to take care of things. He didn’t want to face Lindsey when he was this hard and wanting, but there was just something so delicious and forbidden about what he was currently doing and feeling and he couldn’t bear for it to be over with a few quick jerks of his wrist.







So instead he closed his eyes for a moment, imagined it was him over top of Lindsey instead of one of the other boys and allowed his hips a few lazy pushes forward against the half wall in front of him, pretending that the cool concrete was instead a warm body.







His fantasy abruptly disappeared when he heard the shrill chirp of a whistle and the coach’s voice announcing that practice was over. The boys all headed off for the locker room, except for Lindsey, who slapped some of them on the arm or hand, and smiled and laughed with them as they passed.







He could have gone down then to greet Lindsey and get started, but he decided to give it a while. He wanted to make sure everyone else was gone first.







***







Practice had ended almost half an hour ago, and Wesley still hadn’t shown up. Lindsey was still standing on the mat, doing some vague stretches that involved waving his arms around and yanking on his legs to keep himself warm, and thinking that Wesley had had the same idea as he did, that this wasn’t a good idea, and decided not to come.







He was just about to give up and head into the showers himself when he felt an odd tingle on the back of his neck, like someone was much too close, followed by a light touch on his ribs, and he spun around, shocked into motion, and kicked Wesley’s legs out from underneath him, flipping him to the ground, flat on his back, with a thud.







Wesley hit the floor with an undignified ‘Oomph’, hands out to his sides in an attempt to take some of the impact, but his back had taken most of it, and the wind had been decently knocked out of him. He looked up at Lindsey in annoyance and held out a hand for the other man to help him up.







Lindsey laughed through his nose and reached down to grab hold of Wesley’s wrist and pull him up, mumbling, “Sorry,” into his other hand with a smile, but clearly not meaning it.







“Well, that was tough,” Lindsey said sarcastically when Wesley was standing and trying to regain his breath. “Looks like I might not need your help after all.”







“Oh, of course not,” Wesley answered, matching the sarcasm. “You don’t need any help at all. All you need is to convince the other team to sneak up from behind and scare the shit out of you. You seem to do well when you’re frightened like a little girl.”







“Hey! I wasn’t scared, I was just… startled. There’s a difference.”







Wesley rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I suggest we get started.”







Lindsey looked him up and down, screwing up his face at Wesley’s clothing. “You’re gonna wear that?”







Wesley looked down at his pair of jeans and a cotton t-shirt. He supposed he could have used the same wrestling outfit that Lindsey had leant him last time. He supposed he should have at least brought a pair of shorts to use, but his mind hadn’t exactly been on his attire. He gave Lindsey a somewhat sheepish look, and gave his shoulders a small, innocent shrug.







“Take your pants off.”



“What?!”







Lindsey sighed, looking at Wesley as if he was coaching a five year old and lesson one was ‘proper gear’. “You can’t wrestle in jeans, Wes. I assume you’re wearing underwear?”







Wesley scowled, but did as Lindsey suggested, tossing his pants to the side and standing in front of Lindsey, getting himself into the ‘ready’ position.







Lindsey smiled at him, predatory and confident, and it made his stomach flip a bit, but he tried to ignore it as Lindsey copied his stance and said, “Let’s get it on.”







It was not nearly as easy this time for Wesley to beat Lindsey. It seemed as if his efforts had been paying off, because every time Wesley would make a move on Lindsey he would counter it, and somehow manage to get Wesley into a hold of his own.







Wesley never stayed that way for long, always able to break free, but he couldn’t seem to get any kind of hold whatsoever on the other man, and it was beginning to irritate him. He was trying to avoid getting too close, because with his pants gone he was left in only boxer shorts, and they would do nothing to hide his arousal if his body touched Lindsey’s in just the right way.







Lindsey desperately wanted to win. He wanted to show Wes that he was good at this, that he was better than Wesley at this. Wanted to push his body into the floor and lie on top of him and grind himself against him and take out all of his sexual confusion and frustration on him and make him forget all about Spike.







Wesley wanted to win too. Wanted to remind Lindsey that he had some worth and punish him for leaving for days and for not wanting him. Wanted to hold him down and force him to care, because Wesley had had a good time fucking Lindsey, but he really did like him, and he wanted to be liked in return and for the other man to admit it.







It seemed that Wesley wanted it a little bit more, because he finally managed to catch Lindsey off guard enough that he knocked him to the ground with a shoulder in his chest, hand around his wrist, and nudge of a foot to his ankle to throw him off balance.







Once he was on the floor Wesley jumped on him, desperate to keep him there, and copying the move the boy earlier had used that had turned him on so much, soon had Lindsey immobile and cursing at his loss.







“Fuck!” Lindsey shouted. He had been sure he was going to take Wes down this time. “Fine. Let me up. We’ll go again.”







But Wesley didn’t move. He remained motionless, stretched over Lindsey, one of his hands pinning both of Lindsey’s above his head, the other arm hooked under Lindsey’s knee as he jacked it up to Lindsey’s chest.







Wesley swallowed, completely unsure why it was he wasn’t getting up. He told his body to move, but it only interpreted that order in the loosest sense, because it moved forward, pushing himself even tighter against the man underneath him and he would have been no longer able to hide the evidence of his arousal from Lindsey, even if the other man hadn’t noticed it minutes ago.







“Fuck,” Lindsey swore again, but this time softer and for a wholly different reason. He wanted Wesley. Fuck his reputation if somebody walked in, and fuck Wes’s new boyfriend, and fuck his stupid lies about Harmony, and fuck the fact that Wes scared the shit out of him sometimes by making him feel things and want things he wasn’t ready for; he wanted to fuck Wes.







He would have reached out his hands to pull Wes’s face down to his own, but with his hands still restrained he was only able to strain his neck up to meet Wesley’s lips and twist his hips just a bit to bring his own engorged prick into contact with Wesley’s.







Wesley didn’t hesitate to return the kiss and the body movements, and soon they were messily exchanging swipes of tongue and scrapes of teeth and rocking their hips against each other so hard that they would have both sprayed in their shorts within seconds if Wesley hadn’t pulled back.







He got up for as long as it took to rid them both of their offending garments and pounced back down on Lindsey, pushing his other leg up and settling himself between them, hard cock rubbing against the crack of Lindsey’s ass.







“Wait,” Lindsey said, breathless as Wes started to move in long slow pushes against him.







Wesley stilled his movements but didn’t get up. “I… I thought you wanted this.” He had been sure that Lindsey was into this as much as he was, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he’d been wrong last time too, and Lindsey didn’t want him at all.







“I want to fuck you this time,” Lindsey said with growl as he tried to roll Wesley over so that their positions were reversed.







Wesley smiled down on him with a cockiness he didn’t quite feel, but his fear of rejection was lessened significantly by Lindsey’s admission that he wanted Wes, just in a different position. “I don’t think so Lindsey.” The other man fought and snarled his outrage under him and Wesley only smiled sweetly and told him, “I’ll make you a deal, Lindsey. You can fuck me when you can take me in a fight, and since I’m pretty sure that’s never going to happen you’ll just have to content yourself with being my bitch.”







Lindsey groaned in pleasure at hearing that and pushed his ass up harder against Wesley. He was so okay with that, but hoped he wasn’t letting on to his roommate just how much he was getting off on being dominated, or he’d never get to top. Not that he thought that would be all that bad…







“Get my bag,” he ordered Wesley, instead of saying what he really wanted to say, which would have involved some begging and pleading and requests for Wes to fuck him, hard.







“What?” Wesley asked, not understanding what his roommate was talking about.







“My gym bag. It’s over there.” He nodded to the floor beside the mat where his bag sat and waited while Wesley scooted the few feet across the floor to grab the request item and brought it back to him.







Wesley resumed his position, kneeling on the floor between Lindsey’s legs, as the other man rummaged through his bag and then tossed it aside, passing Wesley a condom and a tube of lubricant.







Wesley raised an eyebrow at him. “You always bring this type of thing with you to wrestling practice?”







“Shut the fuck up,” Lindsey snarled. They both knew that he had only packed them just in case things had progressed along these lines between the two of them that night. “Not like you weren’t thinking of it too, jackass.”







Wesley acknowledged the truth of that with a slight smile and looked down at the condom in his hand. Neither commented on the fact it was necessary now, and hadn’t been last time, as Wesley opened the package and slipped it on, then squeezed some of the lubricant out onto his fingers before tossing the tube away.







Neither said a word as he pulled Lindsey’s knees even further back toward his neck and rolled his hips off the floor to display his parted cheeks and tight pucker to Wesley. Lindsey gasped softly as Wesley pushed two slick fingers inside him and Wesley bit his lip at the sight of Lindsey’s greedy little hole swallowing them down and wanted desperately for that to be his cock.







Wesley spared only a moment or two to prepare Lindsey, spending most of his time on working that spot inside him, the one that Spike had introduced him to, with the tips of his fingers. He was more concerned with driving Lindsey crazy with desire than he was with getting him adequately stretched, and soon he was pulling out his fingers and placing the blunt tip of his erection against the twitching pucker.







He looked down at Lindsey, making sure he had the other man’s full attention before he started to push inside, slowly but firmly, in one long stroke. He watched Lindsey’s eyes roll back and close in pleasure at the sensation and once he was fully seated Wesley began to move, simple rhythm, in and out, a little bit harder each time and careful to angle himself to his Lindsey’s prostate with every thrust.







Lindsey had never felt anything like it. The last time had been amazing, but this… This time Wesley knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to give it to him, and he did, unerringly and immediately. There was none of the awkward fumbling of last time, none of the unsure strokes and delightful surprises as they touched somewhere or somehow that made them feel such incredible things. This time Wesley already knew what all those things were.







And if Lindsey were judging Wesley’s performance he’d have to give him much better marks for technical skills, but his marks in artistic impression had declined.







Wesley pounded harder and harder into Lindsey, putting more and pressure on that place that would surely drive him over the edge and make him see stars. He wanted Lindsey to know who he belonged to. He wanted to give Lindsey something that Harmony never could. He wanted to give Lindsey a reason to come back to him again, even if the reason was just sex, so he wanted to give Lindsey as much pleasure as possible as quickly as he could.







He soon felt himself succumbing to that pleasure and as his orgasm approached he wrapped a hand, fingers still slightly sticky with slick, around Lindsey’s leaking shaft and started pumping it in time with his thrusts. He let his head fall forward cheek brushing against the other man’s and Lindsey wrapped one arm around Wesley’s waist and ran the other gently through the short hair at the bottom of Wesley’s neck as they both panted and moved against each other, working toward mutual climax.







Wesley lost some of single minded determination at the gentle touches and faltered in his pattern slightly, but recovered quickly. He slowed his thrusts then. Not much, but enough to draw things out a little bit longer, because he suddenly wanted this to last.







Lindsey turned Wesley’s head toward his own, and captured his lips in a searing kiss that left them both gasping for breath.







“Lindsey,” Wesley whispered against his lips, voice full of passion and lust. “Oh, God, Lindsey.”







“Wes!” Lindsey cried out as it all became too much and his entire body contracted as he erupted over the tight fist surrounding him, seed spilling out onto his stomach.







The sound of Lindsey calling out his name and the feeling of Lindsey’s orgasm on and around him were more that Wesley could bear and he jerked forward half a dozen more times and came inside Lindsey’s clenching passage with a grunt.







He stilled over top of him then, arms bracing him on either side, breath slowing and looked down into Lindsey’s eyes and the other man continued to run his fingers gently over his neck and back. Wesley wanted to kiss him again, but now that they were finished he wasn’t sure if it would be accepted.







Lindsey’s touches and the fact that he hadn’t tried to move yet suggested that maybe it would be alright, and Wesley slowly leaned his head down to find out, when the sound of a door opening on the other side of the false wall broke them apart. Wesley jumped back and Lindsey scrambled up and they stuffed themselves into their bottoms, quickly, and ran, laughing at almost being caught, to the locker room.







Once they were there some of the tension of earlier started to return, and instead of showering there, with Lindsey, Wesley told him that he was going to go back to their dorm, where all of his stuff was anyway, and do it there.







Lindsey agreed, and they danced around each other for a few seconds, shuffling feet and darting forward and back, before sharing an incredibly awkward peck on the lips. They went their separate ways to get cleaned up, each cringing inwardly at coming across as such a fool.







***







Wesley was already showered and in his pyjamas, laying on his bed reading a book when Lindsey got back. He looked up as the other man came in, but not knowing what to say, remained silent.







Lindsey nodded at Wesley, equally unsure what he should be talking about just then. Their classes? The weather? The fact that their carpet was in serious need of a good vacuuming? Actually, it was, he realised as he looked down, and made a mental note to remember to sign out the cleaner the next day. How about the fact that they’d just had sex. Again. And Lindsey was no closer to knowing what it meant.







Aside from the fact that he was pretty sure he was gay now.







He quickly stripped out of his clothes and threw on a pair of flannel pants and an old t-shirt, and flicked on the small television that sat on his dresser in a location from which both beds had a decent view, before going to get comfortable on his bed.







Wesley had seemed to have gone back to his reading and at ‘The Daily Show’s first commercial break, Lindsey, still staring at the screen, said, “It was just sex, you know. No big deal.”







“Sorry?” Wesley asked, distracted from his reading and taking a moment to catch on to what Lindsey was saying. When he did an immediate flash of anger shot through him at Lindsey blowing him off yet again, but he tried to cover it up by agreeing with him.







“Oh, yes. Just sex. What else would it be?” He hoped he sounded casual and sincere because he sure as hell didn’t feel it. He wanted more with Lindsey and didn’t understand why he was good enough to fuck and nothing else.







“It can’t be anything else,” Lindsey said quietly, still not looking at Wesley. He wasn’t ready to ‘come out’ yet, wasn’t even really ready to admit even to himself that he was gay yet, and as long as it was only sex and he wasn’t in an actual relationship with another guy, then he could put off looking at his proclivities under the microscope for now.







“Right, of course,” Wesley agreed, snide tone creeping back into his voice. “Because you’ve got a girlfriend.”







Lindsey looked at him quizzically then, wondering what Wesley was talking about, and Wesley must have seen the look, because he was just as confused when he reminded Lindsey. “Harmony?”







“Oh, right,” Lindsey quickly confirmed. “Yeah, it’s just… new. I’m not used to it yet.” NO! Now would have been the perfect time to tell Wesley the truth, but no. He was even more fucked up than he’d thought. “And you’ve got Spike,” he shot back at Wesley, reminding him that he wasn’t exactly open and available for more between them.







Lindsey wasn’t an idiot, despite certain appearances. He knew that Wesley and Spike had fucked, and they’d probably continue to fuck, even if Lindsey continued to make his ass available, and it pissed him off. But he also knew that Wesley wanted more than just casual sex, and if Lindsey offered it to him, he’d drop Spike in a heartbeat. At least he hoped so. You know, just in case he ever decided to do that.







“I told you. He’s not my boyfriend,” Wesley reiterated, but at the mention of Spike’s name it felt like someone had kicked him in the chest. He hadn’t been thinking of Spike at all that day, only Lindsey, and while it was true that Spike wasn’t his boyfriend, and technically he was free to do as he liked, he still felt guilty.







Because Spike talked with him, and took him out, and didn’t hide the fact that he liked him and wanted to be close to him. Spike smiled at him and called him ‘pet’ and told him he was beautiful. Spike was damned beautiful himself, and sweet sometimes for all his brashness, and fun and captivating, and he was interested.







Spike was going to call him, he’d said, and when he did Wesley was going to give him a real chance, because Lindsey obviously didn’t want it.







“Good night, Lindsey,” he said, putting his book down on his nightstand and shutting off his bed lamp, before turning on his side to face the wall, and pretending to sleep.



TBC