Fast Times at Sunnydale High

*





It was Friday afternoon and Lindsey couldn’t wait to get home. It wasn’t that anything particularly exciting was going on, just a date with Fred that night, and hanging out his band tomorrow and the usually family dinner on Sunday, but at least he wouldn’t be at school.



He stopped in at his locker to drop off his books before heading home, taking his time as he did so and sneaking a few glances toward Wesley’s locker, hoping to maybe see him there and say ‘hi’ before the weekend.



Wesley wasn’t there, but some other kid was. Lindsey recognised him as the drummer in Spike’s band, but couldn’t think of his name, or any reason the kid would be hanging around, looking nervous.



Connor shifted from one foot to the other and as he turned slightly he saw Lindsey, glancing in his direction, and he offered a lame sort of phoney smile and went back to shuffling and looking up and down the hall, to see if Wesley was anywhere nearby. Connor knew who Lindsey was. Everybody knew who Lindsey was. But he wasn’t impressed.



He knew Wes used to have a bit of a thing for Lindsey, but Wes was with him now, was better off with him, and he was pretty sure, or pretty hopefully, anyway, that Wesley had gotten over the temporary insanity that caused him to think that Lindsey was in any way desirable.



There was something about the guy that rubbed him the wrong way. He was cocky and shallow and much too much like some character out of a John Mellencamp song, not that Connor would ever listen to that shit, but Lindsey probably did, and he hated that Wesley’s locker was so close to his, and that Wesley spent two nights a week with him, when Connor only got to see Wes once a week, if he was lucky. He really didn’t like Lindsey.



“You lost or somethin’?” Lindsey asked, snarkier than he usually was, but the way the kid had looked at him and dismissed him really rankled.



“Hm?” Connor said, snapping his head around to the source of the question. He was trying his best to pretend that he wasn’t hyper-aware of Lindsey at the moment. “Me? No, I’m just waiting for Wesley.”



Oh, well, if the kid was in Spike’s band, Lindsey supposed it made sense that he and Wesley were friends.



“Yeah,” Connor said when Lindsey turned back to close his own locker. “We’re sort of seeing each other, you know?” He knew he sounded like he was staking out his territory, but he couldn’t help it. That’s exactly what he was doing. Even if Lindsey wasn’t gay, Connor needed him to know that Wes was spoken for.



“Oh,” Lindsey said, face scrunched up in confusion. He didn’t know that Wesley had a boyfriend, and he felt a bit insulted that after all the time they’d spent together and the friendship that had started to form between them, that Wesley hadn’t even thought enough to tell him about it.



And what was this kid, anyway, 12? And he really needed a haircut, and some new clothes, and from what Lindsey had gathered in the last minute and a half, a personality transplant.



And if Wes had a boyfriend, then what the hell was he doing with a crush on Lindsey, anyway?!



“See ya,” he mumbled in the vague direction of Wesley’s boyfriend and walked off, good mood at the idea of starting the weekend inexplicably ruined. He really didn’t like that boy.



Connor felt a small thrill of victory as Lindsey walked away, satisfied that he knew the score now, not that it should have mattered. Lindsey wasn’t serious competition. He decided to give Wesley another five minutes before he left, and if he missed him he’d give him a call later that night.



It turned out he only had to wait two minutes.



“Connor?” Wesley questioned as he neared his locker. “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t panicking. Really, he wasn’t. He had been meaning to get Connor alone all week long and have that talk with him, but here, in the school hallway, in front of his locker, where Lindsey could walk by any moment and witness how much of a berk he was, probably wasn’t the chance he’d been looking for.



Connor smiled and moved out of the way so Wesley could get to his locker. “Just wanted to see you,” he said, and Wesley was almost heartbroken by his earnestness. “We haven’t gotten together in a while, and I was hoping we could make some plans.”



Wesley hated himself.



“Tomorrow,” Wesley said. “Come over to my place. You’re right, we really should… talk.”



Connor’s face lit up and Wesley felt a little bit worse. The boy had clearly only heard an invitation to spend some time with his boyfriend, and here Wesley was, planning on breaking his heart.



“Okay, I’ll…” Connor shifted from foot to foot, again, and debating leaning in to give Wes a kiss, but the hallway was still pretty crowded, and he knew that Wesley was usually kind of on the private side, so he decided against it.



He knew it had been the right choice when Wesley visibly relaxed after he instead casually moved his hand forward to hook his index finger around Wesley’s for only a second and then backed off slightly.



“I’ll see you tomorrow.”



***



Lindsey and Fred had gone out for tacos and then ice cream and then ended up at Lindsey’s house afterward, where they’d run into Lindsey’s stepmother for about five minutes before she told them Mr McDonald wasn’t going to be home until much later that night, and went out again herself.



They were lying down on the living room couch, Lindsey half on top of Fred, their legs scissored together and Fred’s arms wrapped around Lindsey’s neck and back as they kissed, lips and tongues playing over each other rather perfunctorily.



Lindsey, for his part, was trying very hard to get into it, and trying very hard to tell himself that the reason he was so interested in Fred’s body tonight wasn’t anything to do with the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Wesley and his boyfriend.



It was a good thing, he thought, as he worked one hand up under Fred’s shirt and glided the palm across her left breast, that Wesley had a boyfriend. He should have a boyfriend, he thought, and pushed his hips forward, semi-hard cock pressing against Fred’s hip.



Wesley was a nice guy, Lindsey tried to remember, his lips leaving Fred’s and trailing down her neck, and he deserved to be happy with someone. Even if that someone was that annoying little dorky, emo shithead. And he’d heard the other day, from some random guy, that Wesley was a pro at sucking cock, so it was little wonder that he wouldn’t be alone.



“Ow!” Fred squeaked, as Lindsey’s hand inadvertently squeezed a little too hard on her nipple and bit a little too hard on her shoulder. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea at the moment. He still wasn’t fully hard, anyway.



“Sorry, babe,” he said, placing a gentle kiss to the place he’d just sunk his teeth into. “I, uh… Do you want to put on the tv?”



“Yes!” She shouted, much too enthusiastic for Lindsey’s ego as they both sat up. It wasn’t really her fault that she hadn’t exactly been into it either. “I mean, yeah, sure. Battlestar Galactica is coming on soon.”



Lindsey sighed and tossed Fred the remote. What the fuck was going on?



***



Wesley sat in his bedroom on Saturday night and waited for Connor to arrive. This was it. In a very short while he’d have told him the truth, probably broken his heart, definitely wished to put his head through a wall, and hopefully managed to salvage a friendship. But he wasn’t counting on the last one.



A knock on his bedroom door came at a little after 8:30pm, and he didn’t move from his prone position on his bed as he called out for the person on the other side of the door to come in. It was probably his father, or possibly Spike, come to let him know that there was someone at the door for him.



Or, he thought, as he sat bolt upright and scooted to the edge of his bed, it was Connor.



“Hello,” he greeted, and stood up as Connor entered the room and shut the door behind him. “Would you like to sit down?” he asked, gesturing to the chair at his desk and the bed behind him. He really would have preferred to have done this downstairs, but someone, and he was really going to give Spike hell for that, had decided to send Connor up.



“Okay,” Connor answered, and sat down on the bed next to where Wesley was standing. When Wesley didn’t immediately sit down beside him, he reached up his hand to Wes’s, gently tugging on it until the older boy followed his lead.



Wesley tried to smile, but he suspected it came out more of a grimace, as he pulled his hand back from Connor’s, placing it safely in his own lap. He took a deep breath. This was it.



“Connor, I’m glad you came,” he started. That was a good start, right? Honest, straightforward, not in any way sissy. Yes, this was already going well. “I wanted to-”



“I’m glad you invited me,” Connor interrupted, schooching closer to Wesley on the bed, and leaning in very close. “Finally.”



They hadn’t actually had sex since that first night, a month ago, and Connor desperately wanted to change that. It was good to see that Wesley did, too. He smiled and took Wesley’s hands in his, moving them out of the way so that he could wrap his arms around his boyfriend as he kissed him.



Wesley kissed back. He couldn’t help it. For all his inexperience, Connor was actually very good at it, among other things, and after only the barest touch of Connor’s lips against his own, after Connor’s soft tongue slipped inside his barely parted mouth and began to glide across his teeth, Wesley was lost.



Oh, God, what was wrong with him? He didn’t even like Connor like that, and here he was, kissing him and running a hand over his hip and thigh, and happily leaning back and spreading his legs slightly so that Connor could work open his pants, and wiggle his hand inside, and grab his-



“Stop!” Wesley nearly shouted and jumped back, pushing Connor away and throwing them both off balance a little.



“Wes? What’s wrong?” Connor attempted to brush a soothing hand over Wesley’s knee, but he jerked away and stood up, then began pacing back and forth across the bedroom floor. “Did I do something?”



“No, no,” Wesley tried to assure him. He stopped his fidgeting and sat in his desk chair, turning it to face the younger boy. “It’s nothing you did. You’re… great.” And he really was. He was a nice kid, and he was going to be a great boyfriend for someone. Just not for Wesley.



He knew he should have had this talk with Connor long ago. The day after he didn’t remember coming on to him, and taking his virginity, in fact, and then every day after that for the last month. He knew that it would only be worse on them both the longer that he waited, but he had been selfish enough to be more concerned with how uncomfortable the conversation would make him, instead of knowing that it would be the right thing, the fair thing, to tell him the truth right away.



“Then…” Conner said, facial muscles pulling his expression into an adorable pout of confusion. “Why don’t you want to?”



“I just don’t… don’t think that a relationship between us going to work out, Connor,” Wesley told him, trying desperately to hold the boy’s eyes, and not look away like a great big chicken.



Connor knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, in that place that had been born of teenaged insecurity, that it had been too good to be true. Finally getting the boyfriend he’d wanted all of last year, finally getting Wesley to like him and want him back. He knew he’d pushed too hard, came on too strong, but he hadn’t been able to help it. When Wesley had made the first move four Saturday’s ago, he’d made the unconscious decision to do everything he could to hang onto him.



“Why not?” he asked around the lump in his throat that must have been his heart plummeting into his stomach.



Wesley steeled his resolve and ploughed on. It was too late to wuss out now. “I’m afraid I just don’t have those kinds of feelings for you. I never did. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner than this.”



“You don’t…” Connor shook his head, as if trying to puzzle out what Wesley was saying. “Then why did you,” he stopped and choked back a hiccup, and tried not to cry. Because he might like dick, but he wasn’t a girl. “Why did you kiss me? Why did you sleep with me, and tell me I was special, and use me to get off those other times and sit there with my parents, and act like you cared, if you don’t!?”



He was almost shouting by the end, but at least he wasn’t crying.



“I’m sorry,” Wesley said again, voice a pained whisper. “I never meant to... well, to be such a fucking asshole, I suppose, but…” he sighed and stood. “It appears my body responds to you in a way my heart doesn’t, and I was too selfish and weak to be all that concerned with your feelings, when your lips and hands were… Yes. Well. Again I apologise. I hope we can still be friends, but I’ll understand if… well, if that’s not possible.”



Connor knew he shouldn’t ever want to see Wesley again, but something was telling him that the pain in his gut that was a result of being in the same room as Wesley now, was only going to get worse if he couldn’t be around him at all. He really liked Wes, really wanted to be his boyfriend, but if he couldn’t, he’d have no choice but to settle for being just his friend.



It was a very mature way of looking at things, especially since Connor was so angry and feeling so foolish, and it was a real shame that Connor wasn’t nearly as mature in practice as he could be in his head. He still wanted Wesley, and he wasn’t ready to give up yet.



He looked at Wesley for a moment and when he spoke his tone was a cross between angry and seductive. “But,” he said, doing his best to ignore everything he was feeling at the moment except the familiar arousal he experienced whenever Wesley was around. “Your body responds?”



“Well I… it… yes, but,” Wesley stammered, wondering what the hell Connor was getting at. He already felt bad enough, but he supposed it was the very least he deserved, to have Connor make him feel even worse. “I used you,” he admitted, bluntly. “It was horrible. I’m horrible.” God, he wished Connor would stop looking at him like that!



“Please,” he begged. “If there is anything I can do, or say, to make up for this, tell me.” Right about then, Wesley would have done anything Connor asked him to, to spare the kid’s feelings and pride and to alleviate his own guilt.



“You can kiss me.”



“What? Connor, I…”



“You asked if there was anything you could do. You can kiss me.”



“But I’ve just told you that-”



“I know what you said, Wes,” Connor said, with a slight roll of his eyes. Did Wesley think he was really that stupid? He stripped his t-shirt off over his head in one swift motion, and leant back further on the bed.



The comical way Wesley’s eyes bugged out and jaw dropped like a stone made him smile. “You don’t want to be boyfriends. That’s cool.” But it really wasn’t. Still, Connor hadn’t given up. If he could manage to keep himself in Wesley’s life, in Wesley’s bed, then maybe… “But you also said you’re hot for me. So, I want you to kiss me.”



“Connor, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Wesley said, shaking his head, before taking two steps toward the bed despite his resolve not to.



Connor was pretty sure Wesley was right about that, but it was the only thing he wanted right now, the only thing he needed. “Sure it is.”



Wesley wasn’t nearly strong enough to prevent his heart from racing, his skin from flushing, his cock from becoming painfully hard, and his rational mind from shutting off, as Connor slowly unfastened his pants, pushed then down his legs and off, and settled back onto the bed, head comfortably resting on Wesley’s pillow.



He couldn’t prevent the small gasp of pure, carnal desire that escaped his lips when Connor looked at him with such longing, such need, and took his own erect cock into his hand, pumping it, lazily.



“I want you to kiss me,” Connor repeated, licking his lips. “I want you to touch me,” he added, fingertips sliding over his testicles before they curled around his shaft and glided up to the tip. He closed his eyes and let his knees fall apart, pulling them up and open so that his legs were spread, waiting. For Wesley. “And I want you to fuck me.”



And for the love of all that was good and holy, Wesley could not help himself.



He didn’t waste much time stripping off his own shirt, and nearly tripped over his pants as they pooled around his ankles and he ambled to the bed. He threw himself down on top of Connor, mouth covering the younger boy’s with sudden dominance, teeth clanking against each other and tongues tangling messily.



He reached between them, batting Connor’s hand out of the way, and took the boy’s cock in his hand, fingers moving quickly over the silky, warm flesh. It was only the second cock, aside from his own, that he’d ever touched, and he’d been so drunk the last time that he barely remembered it.



“Fuck!” Connor cried out, pushing himself further into Wesley’s touch and tossing his head back into the pillow. “God, Wes.”



Wesley let himself play, let himself enjoy the feel, the contrast between smooth and hard and sticky-wet, the sounds and movements the boy made under him, and he thought, not for the first time, that it was a rather large shame that he couldn’t feel anything more for Connor, and couldn’t force himself to feel anything less for another boy, who’d never let him do this.



Still, Connor was right. At least to Wesley’s seventeen-year-old sex-addled brain, he was right; they had physical desire in common, at least, so what was the harm in enjoying one another a final time, if they both knew that it wouldn’t lead to anything?



He started to move his own hips in time with Connor’s thrusts, at first completely unaware he was doing it, but then his erection brushed against Connor’s, against his own fingers, and his movements stuttered as a bolt of electric pleasure ran through him. After that he timed his movements carefully, wrapped his fingers around them both, and they moved together for long minutes, slippery pre-cum being transferred back and forth and coating them in natural lubrication.



Connor was starting to keen, and Wesley knew that he was getting very close as well, but Connor had asked to fucked, and Wesley was nothing if not accommodating, and so in one fluid motion he bent down to kiss Connor, hard and open-mouthed, let the boy’s erection slide out of his hand, and brought his own slippery hardness across Connor’s balls and down to his entrance, and pushed.



He supposed he could have warned him before he did it, seeing as it was only Connor’s second time, and he hadn’t used anything besides their own fluids to ease the way, but he’d been to close, they both had, and Connor didn’t seem to be complaining about it.



It hurt. Not as bad as last time, but it hurt. But eclipsing that hurt was so much pleasure that Connor thought he would cry, or scream, or explode. Wesley was inside him, Wesley was touching him, kissing him, panting and moaning and swearing above him because he was getting off being inside him.



It was amazing, the feeling of being filled, of being possessed, the exquisite pressure inside him, rubbing all the right places, and the tight heat of Wesley’s fist surrounding his weeping cock, and Connor wanted to stay like this, exactly like this, always.



He knew it would have to end, though, and soon, if Wesley kept moving that way and brushing the tip of his dick over that place inside him and working his fingers so deftly over Connor’s own erection. He tried to hold back, and tried some more, and finally the pleasure became too great, too much, and he gladly gave in to it.



Wesley made a vague weeping sound of relief when he heard Connor’s shout and felt the boy’s release, warm sperm trickling down over his fingers, and arse clenching tightly around him, and he gave up his battle for control over his own body, not that he’d had much to begin with, and after a few stilted thrusts and a silent cry of ecstasy, he emptied himself inside his partner.



He didn’t collapse, and he was proud of himself for that, not wanting to crush Connor, but his arms were shaking a bit with the effort of holding himself up as both boys caught their breath and their cocks pulsed out a few leftover half-seconds of orgasm.



He wondered if it was too soon to ask Connor to leave without sounding like an insensitive prick.



No, that wasn’t fair. He didn’t mind having Connor around, and aside from the whole thing about Connor wanting them to run off to Massachusetts and get hitched, or wait, wasn’t that legal in California now? Anyway, the truth was that he wouldn’t mind spending more time with Connor, getting to know him better than he’d let himself in the past, as a friend, but despite what Connor had said about being okay with nothing romantic between them, Wesley didn’t want to chance leading him on again.



And he was very aware that that’s exactly what he’d just done, and he was cursing himself for it. Who would have known that quiet little Connor could turn out to be such a seducer. Still, Wesley should have been stronger. He knew that. But as the last of the tremors ran through his body and the final spark of pleasure faded into a relaxed sort of numbness, he was having a hard time caring.



Connor could feel Wesley shaking, trying not to fall, and though he didn’t want to suffer the loss of Wesley pulling free from him, he knew that Wesley needed to lie down, so after he stretched up for a very brief peck on Wesley’s mouth, he placed his hands on Wesley’s arms and eased him off, guiding him to the bed beside him.



Connor rolled over to face him, but Wesley stayed on his back, staring at the ceiling, breathing long and deep. Connor couldn’t help but smile, knowing that it was him who’d knocked Wesley out like this, given him so much pleasure, and he smiled again, when he trailed his hand over Wesley’s torso, and it was met and joined by Wesley’s, fingers tangling together, and resting over his chest.



He could almost forget that Wesley didn’t like him, that he was just using him for sexual release, and that Connor’s feelings, as always, didn’t matter. The slightest squeeze of Wesley’s hand on his, and the barest brush of Wesley’s lips on the top of his head was enough. For now.



All he had to do was keep this up, make himself available whenever he thought Wes wanted it, and even more than that, and eventually Wesley would have to fall in love with him. Right?



Of course he would, was what Connor thought, and smiled as he nuzzled closer into Wesley, determined to enjoy this peaceful time together before he had to go home.



***



Monday afternoon and Wesley was both excited and nervous to be going to see Lindsey that night. He should be neither, he knew, as it was hardly the first time, and they seemed to have developed a comfortable routine, but the remembrance of what had happened with Connor on the weekend was throwing him off.



He knew it was stupid. What the hell should his sex life matter when it came to his time with Lindsey? Only it did. Because even though he’d been told, he’d seen, and he couldn’t help but agree that he’d never be with Lindsey, there was nothing he could do about the part of him that still held that desire. Nothing apart from sleeping with someone else and trying to forget, but clearly that wasn’t working.



He sighed and rang the bell, hand clenching around his bag tighter than it needed to and looking around Lindsey’s front porch randomly as he waited for the door to be answered. He just had to act normal. Lindsey wouldn’t know anything, wouldn’t care about anything either way, and if could stop himself from being a complete spaz, his bizarre sort of forced friendship with Lindsey would be unaffected.



Lindsey opened the door, half happy to see Wesley, and half pissed off at himself for being happy. He really couldn’t pinpoint why, but he’d been the tiniest bit irritated with Wesley all weekend, and when he considered that he hadn’t even seen him all weekend, it just didn’t make any sense. And being happy to see someone he was feeling irritated with made even less sense.



“Hey, Wes,” Lindsey said, managing a genuine smile, and ushered the other boy in, and to the kitchen table. It was probably nothing, and as soon as they got to sitting and talking and drinking their Monday beer, everything would feel a whole lot better.



And then Wesley would go home and fuck his boyfriend, and not think of Lindsey at all, and Lindsey would sit up in his room wishing he could even care anymore that Fred would let him past second base and wishing that Wesley was thinking about him.



He knew it was fucked up, and he was desperately trying to deny the feelings that had been creeping up on him for the past several weeks, but he couldn’t any more. Oh, he could to other people, to Wesley, and he would, but not to himself. He was… curious. He was attracted to Wesley, he knew Wesley was attracted to him, and he couldn’t help but wonder… But it didn’t matter. He had no intention of acting on it, for many reasons, not the least of which being it wouldn’t be fair to Fred, but the curiosity, the willingly repressed desire, was still there.



Wesley was surprised, when he walked into Lindsey’s kitchen and sat down in his usual seat, to see that Lindsey’s history text, as well as an open notebook and a pen were placed on the table.



“Well, this is a surprise,” he said, quirking an eyebrow and offering a tentative smile in the face of Lindsey’s prickly greeting. “Are we actually going to get some work done tonight?”



Lindsey gave a small snort and pulled two bottles of beer out of the fridge. “My stepmom was here earlier. Had to make it look like we were really studying.” He cracked open both bottles, showing off by using his hand and the countertop instead of a bottle opener like any normal person would, and sat down, sliding one of the drinks across the table to Wesley.



“Good plan,” Wesley smiled, taking a sip. “You wouldn’t want them to suspect that you were in any way goofing off and drinking beer, instead of getting your schoolwork done.”



“Yeah, and you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to think we were doing anything besides helping me pass history, right?” Lindsey knew as soon as he said it, petulant and derisive, that he was being stupid, and petty.



He wanted to stomp his foot on the floor and pound his fist on the table and shout ‘What are you doing with a boyfriend? You’re supposed to like me!’, and even though that was exactly what he was feeling, he knew, with his rational mind, that it was a bit over the top. His ego was bruised, and it was making him a bit crazy in his head, but he tried not to get too crazy on the outside.



It was stupid, and unfair, and made no sense at all, not that matters of the heart, or curious groin, ever did, but if Wesley was happy with that drummer freak, then Lindsey shouldn’t bug him about it.



“I don’t have a boyfriend,” was what Wesley said, because it was the truth, and he was seriously confused about where Lindsey had gotten that false information.



“Come on, Wes,” Lindsey said, smiling and trying to seem unobtrusive and comforting. “You don’t have to hide it from me. It’s not like he’s your first one. Nobody’s gonna care.” Except me.



“No, I...” he started, frowning and confused. “Of course I wouldn’t hide it, if I did have a boyfriend. But I… I don’t. I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He thought briefly of Connor, the sweet little boy who’d thought that Wesley was his, and Wesley had done nothing to correct, but there was no way that Lindsey had known about that.



Lindsey was trying to be reasonable, but Wesley’s deliberate obtuseness was pissing him off. “Well, that’s not what he said when he showed up at your locker on Friday, waiting for you.” He was aware he was pouting a little, and aware that it was about the most ridiculous thing he’d ever done.



“What?” Wesley asked, shaking his head and frowning in concentration. “Oh….” He said after a second, when he realized that Lindsey must have seen Connor, waiting for him.



“Oh, so now you suddenly know what I’m talking about?” Lindsey asked, trying not to attack.



“Lindsey,” Wesley said, and put his bottle down on the table, resisting the urge to reach across and cover the other boy’s hand in his. “It was Connor you talked to, wasn’t it?”



“Fucked if I know,” Lindsey was aware he was being petulant, but he found it hard to stop. “Skinny-ass little kid from Spike’s band, and he shows up saying he’s waiting for his boyfriend.”



Wesley sighed, and took another drink. “Yes, that was Connor. We’re… friends. And he’s always had a bit of a crush on me, and lately he’s come to think that there’s more between us.” He didn’t quite know why he didn’t tell Lindsey the reason that Connor thought it was more, just that he wanted Lindsey to understand that he was most definitely single, for all the good it would do.



Lindsey wasn’t nearly as stupid as Wesley would have believed, and he was under no illusions that this Connor could have thought something up, like being Wesley’s boyfriend, without any external influence from Wesley himself. And again, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that he should care.



He mumbled something about it not being any of his business anyway, but they both couldn’t help but think it very much was.



The rest of the evening passed in a veiled tension, each of them doing their level best not to aggravate the other in any way, as they traded random stories about band practice and law class, and tried not to mention anything too personal.



They were both, in their own way, hurt by the turn of the evening, but given that they were, each of them, bent on keeping quiet about anything and everything personal, after Lindsey’s accusation, it was hardly surprising.



When Wesley left, at ten o’clock that night, Lindsey tried to smile and act normal and pretend that everything was fine, and from his perspective he did a very good job of it.



Wesley, too, tried to pretend that nothing was amiss between them, but when he walked out the door, and down the path to the driveway, he felt Lindsey’s eyes on him, accusing and disapproving, and he hoped beyond hope that the reason for Lindsey’s sudden turn in attitude was because Lindsey didn’t want to see him with someone else.



Silly and juvenile he knew, but he couldn’t help but dream



The next few days passed fairly uneventfully for both Lindsey and Wesley, and it didn’t really come as a shock to either of them when Wesley stopped Lindsey out front of their lockers after school on Thursday and told Lindsey he couldn’t make it that night because he was busy.



Lindsey saw through it, like they both knew he would, but agreed, because they could both use the time off.



TBC