Helping Hand

***







Lindsey knew that if he was around Wes at the moment he would be incapable of acting civil and mature and would only end up saying something he would regret. Okay, saying more things he would regret. He just needed some time alone, to adjust to the new situation, to cool down enough that he could actually stand to be within 20 feet of his roommate without wanting to punch him or fuck him or both.







So he finished his breakfast, washed up his bowl and left without a word. He went for a jog, then called Angel and met up with him for coffee, and when they were finished he took the long way back to his dorm, wanting to be sure that Wesley had left for his class before Lindsey got back.







He hadn’t been able to hide his rotten mood from Angel, and had had to fess up to ‘relationship troubles’ to get Angel off his case about it. Angel had commented that he hadn’t known Lindsey was seeing anyone, and Lindsey told him he wasn’t, and Angel had snorted and said ‘chicks’ and Lindsey had agreed.







Would it really be so bad to tell Angel, to tell all of his friends that he was into dudes? Would they care? Doyle was gay, and Angel had been friends with him since they were five, all the guys seemed to like him well enough, and his boyfriend Lorne was always a huge hit at parties. It shouldn’t really be any different for them to accept him.







Except it was. The guys didn’t have to get physical and sweaty with Doyle, and that would change how they acted around him, what they said. They’d be awkward and uncomfortable, especially during practice and in the showers, and things would probably never be the same. He didn’t want to have to deal with that, but even though things between himself and Wesley seemed to be over, it was only a matter of time before there was somebody else, and then what was he supposed to do? Drive them away with his cowardice and self-hatred, like he had with Wes?







He knew he’d have to ‘come out’ eventually, but he had no idea how to prepare himself for what that meant, because really, he had no idea, and it was really freakin’ him out. Funny thing was, he was more nervous about telling his friends than his parents.







But, on the bright side, he probably wouldn’t even have to deal with it, because he had his big wrestling meet the next day, and he was probably going to lose, and get booted from the team and lose his scholarship and have to leave school, and he wouldn’t see any of his friends anymore anyway. Yeah, bright side.







He looked at his watch and sighed. Wesley would be back from class any minute now, and his didn’t start for another half an hour. He wanted to leave again, wanted to go on avoiding him, but the fact that he was going to ask Wesley, just this once more, to help him practice, kind of meant that he had to stay and face him.







He really didn’t want to ask Wes for help, and he’d probably say ‘no’, what with everything that had happened, and Lindsey acting like a jerk, but this was important, and he was desperate. Pretty much his entire future depended on him winning the next day, and he’d been working his ass off the past two weeks, and despite his pessimistic attitude he had to admit that he’d gotten a hell of a lot better, but he still had room for improvement.







He heard the key in the lock then, followed by the shuffling sounds of Wesley putting things down and taking a seat at his desk. When he heard the irritating chime of Windows XP booting up that signalled that Wes was about to start either working on a paper or surfing for porn, Lindsey figured he should say what he needed to say before the other man got too caught up whatever he was doing.







He tossed the “Men’s Health” magazine he had been distractedly leafing through onto his bed and angled himself toward Wesley’s back. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and was a bit surprised, because that’s not what he’d wanted to say.







“You know, for what I said earlier.” And for a lot of other things he’d said and done over the past several days that he still wasn’t ready to admit to.







Wesley entered his password into they keyboard, hit enter, and turned his head to the side, so he wasn’t quite facing Lindsey, but could still see him quite clearly. “I’m sorry too,” he admitted, relieved he was able to get it out. “I shouldn’t have responded the way I did.” And he probably shouldn’t have used every available opportunity to rub his relationship with Spike in Lindsey’s face either, but he figured that went without saying.







He hoped it did anyway, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to say it.







Wesley turned back to his computer, but made no move to actually do anything with it, and Lindsey sat on his bed, letting his eyes gloss vacantly over a random spot on the floor.







“So,” Lindsey ventured after a couple of minutes. “I’ve got that big meet tomorrow.”







“Yes, you do,” Wesley agreed. He hadn’t forgotten. Regardless of everything that had been going on between them lately, he wanted Lindsey to do well, and was actually a little bit nervous for his roommate. “I hope you’re ready for it.”







“Well…..” Lindsey hedged, hoping that Wes would catch on, and not make him have to ask for help.







“I have a date tonight.”







“Oh.” So he had caught on, and Lindsey was right; Wes was turning him down. He wasn’t shocked, and he let his gaze drift back to the floor trying to hide how much it stung.







Lindsey looked so pathetically hurt and rejected, like he had been counting on Wesley, and Wesley had let him down, and even though it was ridiculous, Wesley couldn’t bear to think that Lindsey was feeling that way. Especially because of him. He would call Spike and reschedule. After all, he had every day after this one for the foreseeable future to be with Spike, but he could only help Lindsey out this one day.







He heaved an exaggeratedly put upon sigh and clicked a few keys to open up his email. “I’ll meet you at the gym at ten o’clock,” he said, without looking over his shoulder, and began typing an email to his mother about classes and the weather and maybe coming home for Christmas.







Lindsey didn’t say anything until it was time to leave for class, but as he passed by Wesley on his way out the door he laid a hand on his shoulder solidly, and with a squeeze that was intense in meaning, if not power, he said, “Thank you.”







They both knew he meant for more than just help with wrestling. It really meant a lot to Lindsey that Wes would cancel his plans with Spike for him, even if Wesley hadn’t meant it as anything more than helping out a friend.







When Lindsey had left and he had finished writing his email, Wesley picked up the telephone to call Spike and let him know he couldn’t make it that night. He wasn’t sure why he was uneasy about it; he would tell Spike that he was helping out a friend with something very important, and it couldn’t be put off, and Spike would understand and say it was fine, and they’d get together tomorrow instead. Right?







“Hey there, sexy,” Spike purred into the phone after the second ring.







Wesley smiled and closed his eyes, remembering not 12 hours ago when he’d felt the soft vibration of that seductive voice up close and personal, and shivered thinking about what else he had felt, and how much he’d loved it.







“Hello yourself. How are you?” he asked, tension starting to evaporate at the prospect of easy conversation.







“All the better for hearing your voice, pet,” Spike answered, voice pitched low and smooth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”







“Uh,” Wes started, and sat up a little straighter. Straight to the bad news then. “I’m afraid I have to reschedule our date tonight.”







“You alright, Wes? Everything okay?”







He sounded genuinely concerned, and touching as it was, it only made Wesley feel worse. He cringed, closed his eyes and prepared himself for telling Spike the reason he wouldn’t be able to go out with him.







“Yes,” he answered first. “I’m fine. Thank you.”







“Good. I can’t have anything happening to you. Not when I’ve gotten so attached.” The smile in Spike’s voice was evident as he joked, but so was the underlying truth of the statement.







“Yes, that would be a shame,” Wesley agreed, smiling as well. “No,” he continued, somewhat more seriously. “Something has come up. I need to… help a friend out with something.” Shit! Yes, congratulations on coming across all vague and shifty. Perfect way to get Spike to be understanding about it.







“Help out a friend?” Spike asked with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. “What friend? And help them with what?”







“Lindsey has a very important wrestling match tomorrow, and he needs my help going over some moves,” he blurted out, figuring it best to just say it. He held his breath waiting for a response from Spike, hoping it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.







It was silly for him to be worried, he knew. Spike had no idea that he and Lindsey had ever been intimate, had no reason to think anything even remotely like that, and he knew it was just his own guilty conscience that was causing any anxiety.







But as he waited for Spike speak, the only sound floating through the earpiece of his phone the background hum of what he guessed was the washing machine, it hit him that maybe Spike did know.







It hadn’t escaped his attention that the few times that Spike and Lindsey had been in each other’s presence they hadn’t exactly been friendly, and all week Spike had been coming up with excuses not to go anywhere near the room he shared with Lindsey.







But no. Surely Spike would have said something, if he suspected. Spike couldn’t possibly be wanting him only for sex, just like Lindsey, and not caring who else shared his bed. Could he?







“So,” Spike’s voice, suddenly cold and facetious, broke through his reverie. “Lindsey needs some assistance with his moves, does he? And you’re just… offering him a helping hand?”







Wesley wasn’t sure if should take Spike’s words at face value, or read into the insinuating tone in which they delivered. He knew it would be best to play innocent, act like he had no idea what Spike was talking about, but before he could stop himself he was saying, “It’s not like that,” and knowing full well that it probably was.







Spike wasn’t an idiot. “Look, I’m not an idiot, and I’d have to be not to realise that he was that ‘one’ other guy you told me about our first night. So forgive me for not wanting him to get his hands all over you now that I’ve had mine there, and plan to again. I don’t want that tosser’s sloppy seconds.”







“Spike!” Wesley couldn’t believe Spike had said that, made it sound so crude, and his admonishment came across like a mother scolding her child. And then it actually registered, what Spike had said. He did know about Lindsey. And Wesley needed to set him straight.







“Spike,” he repeated and let out a sharp breath before continuing. “Yes, that guy was Lindsey. But then I met you. And he and I haven’t… well… we haven’t. And I’m certainly not planning for us to do it again.” Alright, so it was a tiny lie. They’d done it once since he’d met Spike, but he didn’t need to know that.







Again silence was Wesley’s only answer and he wished, desperately, that he could promise Spike that nothing would happen. Instead he said, “Please, Spike. I wanted so much to be with you tonight, but Lindsey’s my friend, and he really does need help.” At least that much he could say with certainty.







“Fine, pet,” Spike said, consciously trying to soften his voice. He knew he couldn’t win here, and the last thing he wanted was to send Wesley off to get physical with Lindsey when the two of them were fighting.







“You go help out your friend. But I’ll hold to that rain cheque, yeah?”







“Definitely,” Wesley answered, relaxing slightly and even grinning a little at the thought of seeing Spike. “Tomorrow?”







“Sure, Wes. Tomorrow. I’ll call you.”







“Thank you, Spike. I… Thank you.”







Wesley pushed the ‘end call’ button and placed the handset down on his desk. He was more confused than ever. He wasn’t lying when told Spike that nothing was likely to happen, but he had to admit to himself that that was really only because he couldn’t stand to be used like that by Lindsey.





He really was dedicated to making his relationship with Spike work out, but it was hard in the face of the sort of temptation that Lindsey offered. He was almost glad that Lindsey didn’t want anything real with him, or he’d be in one hell of a pickle. As it was, he felt he had a strange sort of a get-out-of-jail-free card where his sexual experiences with Lindsey were concerned, knowing nothing had come of them, and nothing ever would.







And he was sort of glad that Spike was suspicious and didn’t want him out with Lindsey, because if Spike had been accepting and trusting Wesley would have felt even worse. He knew what tended to happen when he and Lindsey were in the sort of situation they’d be in later, and he’d agreed to do it anyway. Consciously put Spike aside so that he could do it anyway.







And sure, he’d been able to put a reign in his urges the past couple of times, and intended to again this time, but he couldn’t deny that the idea of giving in to them excited him, and there was a part of him that wanted to.







***







Spike didn’t miss the fact that Wesley said that he wasn’t planning for anything to happen between him and Lindsey, and hadn’t actually said that nothing would happen. It pissed him off, but really what could he do? Sit around and mope? He considered it, even considered going to spy on Wesley, but that was bordering on the obsessive, so instead did what he always did when he needed validation, and picked up the phone.







“Hey pet,” he said, with less than his usual sex appeal once the call was answered. “You busy tonight?”







***







Lindsey hadn’t been kidding when he warned Wesley, with a smirk and wink as they circled each other on the wrestling mat after his team practice late Friday night, that he’d been practising.







It had been one hell of a match between them that evening, each appearing to take the lead on several occasions, getting their opponent’s arms twisted around behind their backs, or legs secured between their own, only to have the other snatch the precarious victory back by ploughing them into the ground, sometimes face first.







Lindsey wasn’t really ashamed to admit that all the roughness was turning him on more than it really should be, and so finally, when he managed to get Wesley slammed down on his back on the thin padding of the wrestling mat, and worked himself over top of him so that he was damned certain he wasn’t going anywhere, he wasn’t ashamed to grind his rock-hard erection against Wesley’s growing one.







When Wesley found himself pinned underneath Lindsey, he almost didn’t quite believe it. Lindsey had done it. He’d beat him. And Wesley couldn’t be happier. Or at least, he thought he couldn’t, until Lindsey’s stiff cock brushed up against his own, and he started to harden under the attention.







He tried to pull back from the touch, but being flat against the floor already he had nowhere to go, and he reminded himself that he hadn’t wanted this to happen. He still didn’t want this to happen. He couldn’t control his body’s reaction to Lindsey touch, but he could control what he did about it, and he was going to. He wouldn’t let this continue.







“Congratulations,” he said, really meaning it, because this meant that Lindsey stood a real chance in the meet the next day, and tried to duck his head away from the one looming over him, because he could sense Lindsey getting closer, and if he wasn’t careful he was pretty sure he was going to get kissed.







“Thanks,” Lindsey responded, nudging his nose against Wesley’s, deep breaths he was taking after the recent exertion serving to bring their chests into contact, separated only by the thin material of cheap t-shirts.







Wesley felt Lindsey press against the inside of one of his thighs with his knee, trying to lift it up as his face descended on Wesley’s neck. A warm, wet tongue snaked out to trail from the hollow of his throat up to little dent behind his ear and he couldn’t pretend any longer that he wasn’t hard when their dicks were brought into further contact, completely flush against each other behind flimsy gym shorts.







“Lindsey, no,” he all but begged, in a completely unconvincing manner. Lindsey wasn’t convinced by it anyway, because he only pulled his hips back in order to push them against Wesley’s again and again, and scraped his teeth across Wesley’s neck.







His lips settled next to Wesley’s ear, and he stilled all his movements for just as long as it took to pant out, “I won, Wes. I beat you. And I think you owe me something.” And then his mouth was attacking Wesley’s, teeth clashing and lips smashing and his hips picked up a bruising rhythm against Wesley’s.







Wesley couldn’t help but return the kiss, and he was sorely tempted to take back his ‘no’ and give Lindsey an emphatic ‘yes’, but he didn’t. He thought again of how it was only the aggression of the encounter that was getting Lindsey off and not really Wesley himself. He thought of how Lindsey didn’t really want him for anything but a quick fuck after something had gotten him particularly worked up.







He thought of Spike, and how he’d told him he had nothing to worry about where Lindsey was concerned, and thought of how he’d feel next time they were together if he went through with this, and in the end it wasn’t really a hard decision.







He pushed at Lindsey’s shoulders, not with enough force to do any kind of real damage, but hard enough that he couldn’t be ignored, and Lindsey responded, letting Wesley go and sitting up next to him.







“Wes?” he asked, pretty sure that Wesley wasn’t playing, but confused because that python in his shorts was completely obvious, and so was that first response to Lindsey’s kiss.







“I said no,” he reiterated, voice slightly trembling because he wasn’t at all sure that he really did mean no.







Lindsey blinked down at him and nodded in mystified agreement. “Okay, sure Wes,” he said, holding out his hand to help the other man up. “We’ll just… go home.”







***







“I have a… I’m seeing someone,” Wesley said on the way home, in the cool, quiet night as they walked next to each other in otherwise awkward stillness. He was hesitant to use the word boyfriend.







“I know,” Lindsey told him. He really did know that. He had already accepted the fact that it was too late for him and Wes, but fuck, he couldn’t help it if his dick hadn’t gotten the memo.







“You can’t just use me like a blow-up doll or a dildo whenever you get the urge. I’m a person. I deserve more than that.”







“I know,” he said again, uselessly. And again, he really did know. He felt horrible for making Wes feel like that’s all Lindsey thought he was, but didn’t know how to tell him different, now that he’d discovered the difference for himself. And even if he could, it probably wouldn’t matter anymore.







“If you’d have…” Wesley cut himself off before he could finish, not quite knowing exactly what he wanted to say, and certainly not wanting Lindsey to hear it even if he did. If Lindsey had only given Wes some sort of hope for them, things would have been different.







Lindsey shot a glance at Wesley out of the corner of his eye, startled by the partial admission, and looked away again quickly to jam his key into the lock as they came upon the entrance to their building. When they got up to their room, he began to lose his shock, and his temper.







***







“If I’d have what, Wes?” Lindsey demanded, harshly, when they got inside their room, and the door was closed and locked behind them. “If I’d have made you feel like more than just a dick? If I’d have admitted that yeah, I kind of like you, even when you’re not pounding me into the floor? If I’d said I’d like to just hang out sometimes, even when I don’t think there’s any chance for sex?”







He yanked the sleeves of his jacket down his arms and tossed itagainst the wall where it fell to the floor in a useless lump. “What would you have done?” He took a few steps toward Wesley, balling up the front of his hoodie in his fists and backed him up into the wall.







“I,” Wesley started, but honestly didn’t know where to go from there.







“Would you have fucked me those other times you knew I wanted it? Would you still have paraded your fucking farce of a relationship with that bleached blond jackass around, and rubbed my nose in the fact that you think he’s better than I am? Would you have let me fuck you tonight?”







Lindsey was panting by that point, hard, in Wesley’s face, turned on all over again and cursing himself for it. God, he wanted Wesley so bad he could taste it, and while he enjoyed some roughness and power games as much as the next incredibly fucked up guy, he wouldn’t take it by force.







“I,” Wesley stammered again, completely dumfounded by this new version of Lindsey, and not a little turned on by it. And the answer was of course ‘yes’, to all of those questions, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. He did manage to push his pelvis forward a little to let Lindsey know exactly how this little encounter was affecting him. Fuck.







“You would, wouldn’t you?” He closed his eyes at the feel of Wesley pushing against him and allowed himself to return the intimate touch with a thrust of his own before he opened his eyes again and stared hard into Wesley’s.







“You’d have given me anything I wanted… And you’d still have made me feel like second best to him.” He punctuated the last word with a vicious tug to Wesley’s hair and wrenched his head back to expose his vulnerable neck to Lindsey’s will.







Wesley only whimpered as Lindsey hovered over him, lips inches from his stubble-covered jaw. “Answer me,” Lindsey demanded gruffly through clenched teeth, and it wasn’t until Wesley offered a squeaky “Yes,” that Lindsey pressed his lips down and worked them, along with tongue and teeth, over Wesley’s skin.







What really bothered Wesley was the fact that Lindsey was right about Spike. He really would have kept right on shoving Spike in Lindsey’s face, looking for more and more of a reaction, hoping for Lindsey to tell him to stop, and claim him as something more than the guy he shared a bar-fridge with. But Spike was already doing that, and really that should have meant game over.







“So what about now?” Lindsey asked when Wesley was panting and writhing against him, and Lindsey knew he had cheated a little by getting him to this point before he asked. “I know you want me. You know I want you. Will you let me?”







Wesley’s head screamed at him that this was an incredibly bad idea. Nothing had changed. Lindsey still hadn’t told him any of those things he wanted him to, and he still had to face Spike the next day, and he was still pretty sure he was on the fast track to falling very deeply for the blond, but the sound of Lindsey’s raspy voice in his sweet southern accent coupled with the feel of his hard, muscular body pressed firmly against his own was above and beyond his ability to deny.







He wrapped his arms around Lindsey, palms pressing firmly against his back, and tilted his chin up so that his lips were at just he right angle should Lindsey chose to take advantage of the position and let out a breathy, whispered “Yes,” in Lindsey’s direction.







“What was that Wes?” Lindsey taunted, much like Wesley had with him their first time. “What are you gonna let me do?”







“I,” Wesley started yet again, but he was determined to pull himself together, at least to the point that he wasn’t a total embarrassment any longer, and he dug his fingers hard into Lindsey back and secretly delighted in the wince the action produced, and answered, “Whatever you want Lindsey. I’m going to let you fuck me if that’s what you want.”







Lindsey frowned a little at what he perceived to be disinterest on Wesley’s part. He was giving the impression of cold acceptance, he was showing way too much control and no longer any real desire, and Lindsey didn’t want to settle for that. He wanted Wesley to burn for him.







He trailed one arm down Wesley’s back to settle on his ass, kneading and caressing sensually as the other planted itself firmly on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a breathtaking kiss. It wasn’t as if they had done this a lot, but enough so that he knew what Wesley liked, a mix of rough and gentle in the kiss, forceful, slow pushes of hard cocks against each other, almost painful squeeze of the hand on his neck, and soon Wesley was voluntarily lifting up one knee to hook over the back of Lindsey’s leg, opening himself up in surrender.







Wesley couldn’t help himself. The things Lindsey was doing to him were just too good to resist and when the hand on Wesley’s backside grasped tightly and pulled the cheek outward to open him up under his clothing the slight pain it caused reminded him of just how good it had felt to have something inside him, and they both sensed the moment that Wesley’s emotions went from guilty desire to rampant need.







And that was the moment that Lindsey pulled back, leaving Wesley panting and struggling not to fall forward at the sudden loss of support.







“What?” Wesley asked as he braced himself against the wall. “What the hell are you doing?”







“What if I said ‘no’?” Lindsey asked him, much too casually as he stood not three feet from him, seeming completely unaffected by recent actions.







“You can’t be serious! Is this nothing but a fucking game to you, Lindsey?” Wesley was getting angry at the way that Lindsey’s apparent lack of emotion seemed to make him think he shouldn’t have any regard for anyone else’s. “I wouldn’t let you use me, I wouldn’t cheat on my… on Spike, so this is what? Your petty revenge?”







He pushed off the wall and stood up straight, face to face with Lindsey. “Grow up!” He pushed past the other man and headed towards his dresser, intending to find something to sleep in and pulling of his shirt along the way.







Fuck! Why could Lindsey not just ever be honest about one goddamned thing? He knew he was being an ass, but he was sick and tired of Wesley being so fuckin’ stupid that he couldn’t see what was really going on with Lindsey, how he really felt, because he couldn’t be that good at hiding it, and if he never heard the name ‘Spike’ again that would be pretty fuckin’ great.







He hadn’t actually intended to tell Wesley ‘no’, he’d only wanted to mess with him a little, make him want it, ask for it, say ‘please’, but the situation had gotten away from him, and he didn’t know how to get it back. He knew he probably shouldn’t bother, that it would only end up hurting them both more, but that didn’t really mean much in the face of a shirtless Wesley, back muscles sliding smoothly under soft golden skin as he rummaged through his chest of drawers.







As he watched Wesley bend lower, watched his ass jut out and move slightly from side to side, he was struck by the thought that maybe they wouldn’t get hurt. Wes obviously still had feelings for him, was still attracted to him, and if Lindsey could only work up the honesty to admit that he returned the sentiments, then maybe… well, maybe.







Sure, there was the whole Spike thing to deal with but the asshole couldn’t mean that much to Wesley if he kept putting himself in these positions with Lindsey right?







“Wes.” Wesley jumped when Lindsey said his name, and turned around, surprised to find him standing so close. Lindsey reached his hands forward to run his fingers along the warm skin of Wesley’s belly, tips darting softly into the indentation of Wesley’s belly button, and Wesley sucked in a breath at the touch.







“Lindsey,” Wesley warned and pleaded simultaneously. He wanted this, even knowing it was a bad idea, and he was having enough trouble accepting that he would give himself to Lindsey and it would mean almost nothing to him, but he just could not handle Lindsey playing any more games with him.







“I want this, Wes. Want you,” he said, taking a step back and taking his own shirt off. He remained still until he was sure that Wesley wasn’t going to tell him to stop and then he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his pants and underwear and socks until he was standing in front of Wesley, naked and unashamed. “Don’t say no. Please.”







Wesley didn’t think his brain was even capable of thinking the word no at this point. He was still angry and uncertain, but there was something about the way Lindsey was looking, vulnerable, open, baring more than just this body, and it might have been Wesley’s imagination, or his own feelings reflected back at him through Lindsey’s mirror of indifference, but Wesley didn’t want to think so.







Wesley didn’t say anything, answering only in his actions as he deftly slipped the buttons on his pants through their holes, and looked into Lindsey’s eyes as he stripped off the rest of his clothing.







Lindsey let out the breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding and wasted no time sinking to his knees in front of the other man. He looked up at Wes with hooded eyes, dark lashes fluttering prettily over his cheeks and said, “I want to taste you, Wes. I’ve wanted to since the first time. Let me.”







Wesley could only nod as he looked down at Lindsey and he trembled as his hips were held fast in strong hands and Lindsey leaned forward to lick up the glistening wetness that had pooled in the slit of his erection.







“Fuck,” Wesley groaned at the contact and Lindsey didn’t bother hiding his smile before he opened his mouth wide and closed his lips around Wesley’s shaft.







It was the first blow job he’d ever given, but he’d received enough of them to have a pretty good idea what he should be doing. He experimented with his moves, sliding his lips up and down, pressing on the vein with his tongue, using the barest scrape of teeth, and used Wesley’s muttered praises and jerky movements to determine what he liked best.







What Lindsey was doing felt so good that Wesley couldn’t help but push his hips forward, sliding his cock deep inside the other man’s throat. Lindsey gagged a little, pulled back so that the spongy head was resting on the flat of his tongue, gave Wesley’s hips a hard squeeze in warning not to do that again, and tried it himself.







He relaxed his throat, opened his mouth wider and slowly slid down as far as he could, stopping only when he felt his gag reflex kick in again, and his nose being tickled by Wesley’s coarse pubic hair.







Wesley managed to remain motionless as he watched his cock disappear into Lindsey’s mouth, but when Lindsey started to moan and swallow around him Wesley thought the urge to grab his head and fuck his face, hard, would be too much. Thankfully what Lindsey was doing didn’t last for long.







He swallowed a couple of times, lodging Wesley even further inside him, and soon his eyes were watering and his jaw was hurting and he had to pull back and continue with the shallow sucks and licks to the leaking tip that had gone over almost as well as the attempted deep-throating. Looked like that took some practice.







Wesley didn’t seem to mind, because he was still mumbling about how good everything felt and had started up with little thrusts of his hips to meet Lindsey’s bobbing mouth and after a couple of minutes he placed his hands on Lindsey’s cheeks and slowly eased him back.







“Lick my balls,” Wesley commanded, as his dick popped free from Lindsey’s mouth. He was getting close, and he wanted to feel Lindsey’s tongue there, mouth working over his delicate sac, light nips of teeth on the sensitive skin before he came.







Lindsey didn’t disappoint. He looked up at Wesley and spared him a smirk before he lunged forward and into his task. Wesley tasted so good, and the sounds he was making were absolutely beautiful, and Lindsey fought the urge to grab his own cock and jerk himself off as he worked. Instead he grabbed Wesley’s and pumped his fist up an down on it, fast, wanting to drive him over the edge before Lindsey went.







It worked. It wasn’t long before Wesley was raking his fingers through Lindsey’s soft hair and warning him that he was close. Lindsey dropped the testicle that he was rolling around on his tongue, wanting to take Wesley’s cock back into his mouth and taste his salty essence, but he didn’t quite make it in time.







A white, creamy arc of sperm caught him across the cheek just before he closed his mouth over the spurting head, and he closed his eyes as three more pulses shot out and he savoured the taste on his tongue. It was different. Not bad, but kind of an acquired taste, he supposed, but it was Wesley and he couldn’t get enough.







When the flow slowed down he sucked again, as hard as he could, and Wesley screamed as a few more drops were milked from him, and Lindsey groaned at the taste and the feeling of power at giving this kind of pleasure.







When Lindsey finally let go of his softening prick and sat back on his heels, legs spread wide so that Wesley had very good view of how turned on Lindsey was by giving him head, Wesley thought he might collapse. For a first time, Lindsey had been outstanding.







He tried to focus his glazed over eyes, and looked down at Lindsey, debauched on his knees in a position of mock complacency, Wesley’s spunk splattered across his face. He shuddered and convulsed, more turned on by the sight than anything he could ever remember, and his dick hardened again in record time as his hands clenched the air and his body gave in to the sensation of a second, dry, orgasm. It was incredible.







Wesley’s legs gave out on him, turned to spaghetti very effectively by Lindsey’s talent, but that was okay. The floor was good, because that’s where Lindsey was, and Wes needed to be close to Lindsey. He fell to his knees, wrapped one hand around the back of Lindsey’s neck and used it to pull him closer.







Lindsey tilted his head and leaned in for a kiss, but Wesley had other plans. He twisted his fingers to direct Lindsey’s head to the side, so that he was left inches from Lindsey’s cum-covered cheek.







He breathed in the scent through his nose, then lunged forward and licked up the mess with one hard stroke, almost growling as he did, and then Lindsey shot his back around and attacked his mouth in a kiss, demanding more of the flavour as they passed it back and forth with slippery tongues.







The kiss intensified and spread from their mouths to the rest of their bodies, and as they rubbed against each other with arousal-warmed skin Wesley was reminded by an insistent poking into his hip that he still owed Lindsey something. And he wanted to pay his debt.







He broke free from Lindsey, standing up and offering the other man a hand to do the same, and pushed him in the direction of the nearest bed. Lindsey’s bed.







Lindsey didn’t need to be told twice. Or even once for that matter, and he grabbed Wesley by the wrist, pulling him along, and they tumbled to the bed together, a mess of clashing teeth and hard bodies struggling for dominance.







Lindsey won the struggle, as they both knew he would given Wesley wasn’t putting up much of a fight, and it wasn’t long before Wesley was face down on a bunched up blanket, Lindsey over top of him, legs between his own, hard, leaking cock sliding back and forth along the crack of his ass.







Wesley pushed back into the touch as much as he could, hands grasping at the bed, needing something to hold, to clench as Lindsey licked up the length of his spine and placed a series of slow kisses along his neck and up to his ear.







“I need you, Wes,” he whispered, hot breath making Wesley shiver. “I can’t wait anymore.”







“God, no,” Wesley panted, still trying to push Lindsey further into his ass. “No more waiting. Take me.”







Lindsey gave one more thrust against Wesley’s body and with a frustrated grunt at having to leave the tantalising warmth, even for only a few seconds, pulled back to grab what he needed from the drawer next to the bed.







Wesley whined at the loss and didn’t stop squirming, his ass moving tempting up and down in front of Lindsey and he worked as quickly as he could to cover himself in a condom and spread some lube on his fingers.







With his clean hand he directed Wesley to kneel up a little, giving him a better angle to work with, and placed his lube-covered fingers against Wesley’s crack, sliding them back and forth in the crevice much as his cock had been doing seconds ago.







“Fuck, Lindsey. Inside. Push inside me. Please.”







“Oh yeah,” Lindsey agreed, and he played one finger over the twitching hole. “Gonna push my fingers inside you. First one, then two.” He backed up his words with his actions, slipping in two fingers as far as they could go. He could have been a bit more careful, but it wasn’t like this was Wesley’s first time, so he wasn’t all that worried. And maybe he felt like Wesley deserved a little punishment anyway.







“I’m gonna stretch you out, get you ready for me.” He bent his fingers a bit, moved them around, getting Wesley loosened up and searching for that spot that Wesley had shown him last week, and knew he had found it when Wesley keened and pushed back harder onto his hand.







“You like that?” Lindsey asked, pressing down harder and scraping his nail lightly over Wesley’s prostate. Wesley was only able to groan unintelligibly, and Lindsey’s dick hardened even more as he looked down at the picture that Wesley made, wanton, consumed by lust and writhing around on his fingers.







“That’s gonna be my dick soon. You want that, don’t you Wes? You want me to slide my big fat cock inside your tiny hole, stretch you out, pound you into the mattress make you scream my name as you cum so hard you see stars.”







“YES!” Wesley screamed. “Yes! Lindsey! God, do it!”







Lindsey pulled out his fingers, and quickly placed the tip of his hardness to Wesley’s fluttering pucker and paused long enough to pull Wesley’s head back and give him a fast and passionate kiss on the mouth and to say, “Whatever you want, baby,” before sliding in, smooth and fast.







They set up a rhythm pretty quickly, Lindsey thrusting in and out, slow and hard, Wesley moving back to meet him, letting his prick drag across the bed as he moved to get some added stimulation. Lindsey worked his hands over Wesley’s back and arms, they shared awkward kisses over Wesley’s shoulder and as Lindsey felt himself nearing completion he fought the ridiculous urge to tell Wesley that he was beautiful and perfect and the only thing he ever wanted.







Instead he sped up his thrusts, reached one hand underneath Wesley to stroke him in time with his own movements and said, “Fuck Wes, your ass is so tight. Should have turned gay ages ago.”







Wesley hadn’t exactly been expecting hearts and flowers, and he supposed that in Lindsey’s twisted mind that actually passed as a pretty sweet thing to say, so he decided to accept the compliment, and when Lindsey wrapped tight slippery fingers around him and changed the angle of penetration slightly so that he was hammering his sweet spot with every thrust, Wesley felt his orgasm start to build up inside his balls as they drew up closer to his body.







“Yes, Lindsey,” he breathed out. “Oh, yes. Right there. Don’t stop.”







Lindsey wasn’t planning on stopping; at least not until he pumped out his load into this fuckin’ condom inside Wesley’s ass, and maybe not even then. “Fuck, I’m close. So fuckin’ good.”







After only a dozen or so more strokes the pleasure was more than Lindsey could stand and he came with a roar and a few jerky pushes into Wesley’s tightness, speeding up the movements of his hand on Wesley’s erection to take them both over the edge together.







Lindsey rested his forehead against Wesley’s back as Wesley collapsed to the bed, body flopping down carelessly as they both recovered from the completely mind-blowing sex. As soon as he felt capable of movement Lindsey pulled his softening cock from Wesley and stripped off the condom, wrapped it in a tissue and tossed it in the garbage.







He rolled Wesley over, so that they were facing each other, and leaned over him, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and sweet and heartbreaking and seemed to go on for hours. When they finally pulled away from each other Lindsey settled into the bed, pulling Wesley against him, wrapping and arm around him and placing a playful kiss on his nose.







“Good night, dear,” he said with a smile as he closed his eyes and started to doze off. This had been incredible. The sex, of course was beyond fantastic, and Lindsey was feeling optimistic about a potential future for them. Maybe he’d been wrong before, and it wasn’t too late for them to try to have something.







If he could explain his uncertainties to Wesley, maybe he could get him to be patient with him, because he knew that it wouldn’t happen all at once, but he was certain now that he wanted to try. He’d tell Wesley tomorrow, he thought as he nodded off with his head nuzzled up to Wesley’s shoulder, and slept better than he had in weeks.







When Wesley felt Lindsey’s breathing even out, signalling that he’d succumbed to mental and physical exhaustion, he slowly extracted himself from the lazy embrace, careful not to rouse his sleeping roommate, and silently padded across the floor to his own bed, picking up a pair of shorts on the way, and slipping them on.







He’d been fine up until the end, or as fine as he could be at any rate, but the intensity with which Lindsey kissed him, when the lust had passed and they were soft and clear-headed, had undone him.







He couldn’t do this anymore.





TBC