Fast Times at Sunnydale High

*



Spike rolled his eyes and took a bite of his cheeseburger. “Why the hell am I even friends with you?” he asked Connor, the slightly upward curl of his lips taking the sting out of the words.



“Oh, come on,” he pleaded. “It’ll be fun!” There was a school dance tomorrow night, and Connor had spent the first ten minutes of their lunch break trying to convince his friends that they should go.



He did think it would be fun, even if Spike was right, it would probably be sort of geeky, but at least they could all hang out together, and it might give him a chance to get a little closer to Wesley. Mood lighting, music, a few slow dances, and maybe a few discrete, stolen kisses, and was pretty sure he could get Wesley to come back to his place with him afterward.



“You’re such a little dork,” Faith said, stealing one of his cookies. “Blondie’s right. Why the fuck are we friends with you?”



“Oh, you love me,” he teased, licking his lips and leaning over to place a slobbery kiss on her cheek.



She pulled a face and made a significant show of wiping off Connor’s spit with her sleeve. “In your dreams, freak.” She popped the cookie in her mouth to hide her smile.



“Yeah, those school dances are always lame, bro,” Gunn added. “There’s teachers everywhere, and the music sucks. I heard Evil Hand is playing this one.”



Wesley perked up at the mention of that, faltering for a moment in the chewing of his apple, suddenly finding the conversation mildly interesting, but didn’t say anything yet.



Apparently it had caught Anya’s interest, too. “I wouldn’t mind seeing them.”



“Are you nuts?” Gunn asked her, and then motioned at Spike and Connor and Faith with his hand, absently. “They’re worse than these guys!”





“Oh, yes, they’re horrible,” Anya agreed happily. “But Angel’s nice to look at. He’s big, and... glowery. And since Xander’s not around for me to look at, I have to look at someone.”



“Well maybe,” Wesley started, and took a drink of water. “Maybe we should go. It could be fun.” And he wouldn’t mind the chance to watch Lindsey perform. The way he sounded, voice rough and smooth and dripping sex, the way his fingers moved over the guitar strings, his hands holding it solidly, almost lovingly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world... “Huh?”



“I said,” Connor told him, smiling at the way that Wesley had drifted off, “that if nobody else wants to go, then we should go anyway. You know, the two of us.” He moved his leg under the table so that his knee was resting against Wesley’s.



Wesley momentarily stiffened up, but then forced himself to relax. “I...” he began, trying to think of a good way to answer that, without agreeing to another date with the boy, or making him look foolish in front of their friends.



“We’ll all go,” Spike jumped in, saving Wesley’s ass and shooting him a look that let him know that he wasn’t thrilled about it.



“What?” Faith whined. “You’re not serious.”



Spike threw a french fry at her and snickered. “We can sneak in some vodka and make fun of all the nerds.”



“I could do the second one right now,” she grumbled, looking around the table at her friends. At least Gunn was on her side. “Fine,” she sighed.



The huge grin on Connor’s face was enough to ensure that she didn’t pout for long, and she shook her head, chuckling to herself. She had to admit, that with these guys around, just about anything could be fun. With the appropriate amount of drugs and alcohol, of course.



***



“So,” Spike said on an exhale of cigarette smoke on their way home from school Tuesday afternoon. “Was thinking I’d take you out on a date tonight.”



“What?” Wesley spluttered, whipping his head around to stare at Spike and nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk.



Spike snickered, and took another drag off his cigarette. “Oh, stop being such a girl. I just thought that we could hang out a bit. Go see a movie. I’ll pay. And you don’t even have to put out, if you don’t want to.” He said the last part with a friendly elbow to Wesley’s ribs, and a playful smile twisting the corners of his mouth in a way that lit up his entire face.



“I... well of course,” Wesley agreed, but he couldn’t help thinking it was a bit odd that Spike was asking like this. They’d never needed to make appointments to spend time together, and the fact that Spike had called it a date, intentionally trying to lighten the request, was a dead giveaway that Spike was uncomfortable about something.



“Is something the matter?” Wesley asked, frowning.



“Hm? Oh, nothing.” At Wesley’s sideways, sceptical look he added, “honestly. Just...” Now how the hell could he say this without sounding like that girl he always accused Wesley of being? “We just haven’t been hanging out as much as we used to, lately, what with you mooning over Lindsey half the time, and sticking your dick inside Connor the other half.”



That was right, he could be an asshole about it. Nothing girly about that. He didn’t think he would have minded if Wesley had found someone, really. But the problem was that he’d found two someones. One who he was unfairly using to satisfy his own sexual desires, and the other to actually care about, not that Spike thought Lindsey would ever return the feelings, no matter how much Wesley hoped.



He wouldn’t ever begrudge Wesley his happiness, but what was going on now? Was a fucking joke. And it was seriously cutting into his time with his best friend. Not that he was jealous.



Wesley stopped walking for several seconds, and it took Spike almost that long to realise that Wesley was no longer right beside him. He stopped, and turned around and rolled his eyes, heaving an exasperated sigh. “What?”



“Fuck you,” Wesley said, succinctly, and started walking again, faster than before and right past Spike, toward their home.



Spike growled and took off after him, catching him up fairly quickly. “Wes, wait.”



Wesley did slow down a little, but he didn’t wait for Spike to speak. “Well, let’s not forget about you and your empty pursuit of anything wearing a skirt! Oh, and all that drooling over Fred you’ve been doing! Yes, don’t think I haven’t noticed that.”



“Green’s not your colour, Wes,” Spike said, low and angry. “Just because your stupid little schoolboy fantasy about me never came true, doesn’t mean I’m a eunuch!” Oh, shit he knew he should just shut up, should have shut up a couple of minutes ago, but he really was pissed off at Wesley for how he’d been acting lately, and he couldn’t help himself.



“Fuck you,” Wesley said, again, only this time there was little malice behind it. Instead his voice sounded small, and pleading, and Spike had never wanted to kick himself in the balls more than when he saw Wesley’s eyes begin to pool up with tears that Spike was certain he wouldn’t let fall.



Wesley had started walking faster again, and Spike followed behind, knowing that he wouldn’t be wanted at the moment, and not really knowing what he’d say if was next to him. He gave himself a mental boot up the ass to go along with his kick to the balls, and after several blocks he growled in frustration and jogged forward.



Wesley heard Spike coming up behind him, but tried to ignore it. He still wasn’t sure that he wasn’t going to cry, and there was no way he was letting Spike see that happen. The jerk. Wesley had gotten over the idea of him and Spike long ago, but he still loved him, more than almost anything, still wanted his love in return and his approval almost as much as he wanted his father’s, and he didn’t understand why Spike be so cruel.



He pushed down the thoughts that he really meant that little to Spike, that he was only entertainment, an outlet for boredom and teasing, because he knew that deep down, no matter how the blond liked to play it, that he loved Wesley more than anyone ever had, and he truly, honestly believed that, barring these fits of... whatever they were... between them, that Spike would never want to see him hurt.



He jumped, very slightly, and his heart almost stopped, as he felt something brush against his hand on his way up the front walk to his house, but he quickly realized that it was Spike’s hand, and even though he hated him, just a little, at that precise moment, he allowed the touch, and closed his own fingers around the questing ones.



They stepped inside, and Spike dropped Wesley hand, sliding his backpack off his shoulder onto the floor, and took his friend in a meaningful hug. “I’m sorry,” he said.



Wesley blinked back his still unshed tears and grabbed onto Spike just as hard as he was being held. “I know,” he said, fingers digging into Spike’s shirt. “I know I’ve been... distracted lately, and I know I haven’t been making the best choices, and I’m sorry, too, but...” But how could you be such an ass?!



Spike really had to agree with that statement about Wesley not making the best choices. But he’d already had his say on that, and this really wasn’t the time. “I’m sorry,” he said again, pulling back, and offering a half smile, and shrugging a little. “I just... I miss you.” And for Spike, emotion didn’t get any more vocal than that.



Wesley smiled briefly and ducked his head, forehead resting in his palm, and took a deep breath. “Movie,” he said, raising his head, and kicking Spike in the toe. “Pick me up at seven.”



Spike half smiled for a fraction of a second, and then straightened out his face. “Well that’s only three hours!” he said, pretending to be outraged. “How am I going to find the perfect outfit for the perfect man on such short notice?” He was joking around, Wesley knew that, but that part about Wesley being the perfect man? That was entirely accurate, as far as Spike was concerned, for someone lucky enough to realise it.



***



“Get the hell out of my light,” Angel groused, and adjusted his mic stand for the seventh or eighth time.



“Sorry,” Oz said, not sounding sorry in the least. “I didn’t think that your performance could be improved by your ability to see. My bad.”



Angel scrunched up his nose at Oz and then turned to Lindsey. “So we good, or what?”



“Yeah,” Lindsey said, taking one last look around. “I think so. ‘We’ll do alright tonight.” And they would. They always did, but they never did great, and he wasn’t under any delusions that tonight would be an exception.



Angel sat down on the stage, feet dangling over the edge, and absently fiddling with his drumsticks as he looked out into the gymnasium, that some committee was currently transforming into a dance hall.



Lindsey joined him, and Oz gave a mental shrug, going to sit beside his friends, and they were quiet for several minutes.



“Buffy let me fuck her in the ass,” Angel advertised, for no apparent reason other than he wanted to show off.



Lindsey laughed, out loud, and hard, and Oz smirked, and let his ankle swing to his right just enough that it caught Angel’s before swinging back. “Awesome, isn’t it?” he asked, discretely adjusting his crotch. He couldn’t be less interested in Buffy, but the idea of nailing someone in the ass got him thinking about Doyle.



“Not that I’d know,” Lindsey said, kicking Angel in his other leg. “Fred won’t even let me do it the way God intended.” And he wasn’t bitter about that. Really, he wasn’t.



“I’m sure your little study buddy would,” Angel laughed, and Oz couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Well, maybe not the way God intended, but at least you’d know what we were talking about!”



“Shut the fuck up,” Lindsey warned him. “I’m fine.”



“You know,” Oz told him, being slightly more possessing of brain than Angel, “If you did, you know, with Wes, It’d be cool.”



Angel snickered and smacked Lindsey in the leg with one of his thin, wooden sticks. “Yeah,” he said, thinking it was pretty funny, since just about the last person, besides himself, obviously, that he could see turning homo, was Lindsey. “That might be the only way you’re gonna get any for a while.”



“Fuck, you two have no idea what you’re talking about!” Lindsey groused, and Angel snorted, but Oz merely looked at him, and couldn’t help but seriously think Lindsey was so much closer to taking Angel’s joking advice than even he knew.



“Fred coming tonight?” he asked.



Lindsey shook his head. “She’ll probably come for a bit, but she’s got a big English test tomorrow, and wants time to study for it. Guess I won’t have a cheer squad tonight.”



You will if Wesley shows up, Oz thought, but didn’t say it. “Doesn’t matter,” was what he said. “Doyle won’t be here either.” No, he’d be meeting Oz after his shift at the Espresso Pump, and going home with him to get seriously screwed into oblivion, but he think he needed to rub that in.



Lindsey puffed out a breath and stood, walking across the stage and going over his mic set up and guitar one last time. He didn’t want to think about Fred, or Wesley or anything right now, but music.



***



“You think I’m going in there all sober and shit, you’re out of your mind,” Faith announced, as she met up with Spike, Wesley and Connor outside the school. “This,” she announced, pulling a joint out of her pocket and sparking it up on the front steps of the school, “this is my price for subjecting me to your fucking lame-ass, school spirit.”



“Price I’m happy to pay!” Connor smiled and took a hit, then passed it to Wesley. “Oh. Fuck, this dance just got so much better!”



Wesley laughed lightly at Connor and accepted to offer, taking three very deep hits before passing it on to Spike. He was feeling nicely light by the time his turn was over, and feeling very glad he’d brought that mickey of gin with him. He couldn’t finish it himself, wouldn’t want to, but shared with three of his friends it would be perfect. And it was.



It wasn’t long after Wes cracked the top on his bottle and passed it around and Spike crushed the roach under the steel toe of his boot and they headed inside, that they met up with Gunn and Anya, and they all made their way to the dance floor, laughing over their own and each other’s states of inebriation. And everyone around them, who seemed to be having a genuinely good time, despite their utter sobriety was damned funny, too.



“Fuck, look at that guy!” Faith laughed, for no real reason, other than he was dancing, quite enthusiastically, to some of the worst music she’d ever heard, and grabbed Wesley’s hand, pulling onto the dance floor to do the same. “You’d think the poor son of a bitch had been dancing lessons from you.”



Wesley chuckled as she shook her head, and couldn’t help but agree, even if he did find it slightly insulting. He was no Fred Astaire, but he enjoyed himself, thank you very much. He held onto Faith, tried to lead her, but not too long after realised it was a losing battle, and danced out the rest of the song, proud of himself for only sneaking the odd glance at the stage, at Lindsey.



It was a fairly fast song, and it ended fairly quickly, and Faith and Wesley broke apart laughing, and when the next song started up, a slow song, Gunn cut in and grabbed Faith’s hand, and they were off together, dancing quite beautifully, Wesley had to admit. He’d never thought about it before, but they looked... good. Together.



He wasn’t standing around by himself for more than a few seconds, when Spike swooped up behind him and wrapped his arms around him, whisking him away into a terrible farce of a romantic dance.



Wesley laughed, and went with it. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, smiling and allowing himself to be dipped quite dramatically.



“Dancing,” Spike shrugged and closed his arms tighter around Wesley and allowed himself a small chuckle into Wesley’s hair. “We’re good, aren’t we?” Spike just had time to ask, before they were interrupted by a giggling Fred and Connor.



“You two are so cute!” Fred told Spike, as she danced off with him, and watched Connor latch onto Wesley. “And so are they,” she said, looking at Wesley and Connor, and thinking of what an adorable couple they would make. If she didn’t know that Wesley was very much interested in someone else, and that that someone was interested right back, even if he wouldn’t admit it yet.



She’d come to the dance for only a few minutes, because Lindsey had asked her to, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. She’d been standing along the wall for almost a quarter of an hour, just watching Lindsey and his band, and wishing that things could be different with Lindsey, that he could love her like she wanted him to, and then she’d seen Spike, and Wes, and couldn’t help but giggle, and think that Spike was just so sweet, and cute, and then Connor had grabbed her hand and asked if she wanted to help him cut in, and she just couldn’t resist.



“Well,” Spike said, trying not to pull the girl too close to him. “I wouldn’t get too used the sight of them. It’s not going to last.”



Fred frowned. “Why not? They look so great!” They really did, and even though she agreed with Spike, there was a selfish, broken-hearted part of her that didn’t want it to be true, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answer.



Spike sighed, and moved his hands so they were wrapped around Fred in the proper places. “Wes has a thing for someone else, and until he can get over it, he’s not going to be happy with Connor.”



Fred nodded and gave Spike a squeeze before allowing herself to be pushed back and dipped. She giggled and smiled and was pulled back up and almost almost kissed Spike before she remembered herself and went back into something that resembled an actual dance.



“It’s Lindsey, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to hide her resigned disappointment. She’d accepted that Lindsey’s interests were shifting a while ago, but it still wasn’t easy. Luckily Spike was around, and he made just about everything easier. “I heard. And honestly, Linds hasn’t been the same lately, so I can’t really say I’d be surprised if... you know...” She ducked her head into his shoulder and he held his breath. “I wouldn’t even mind.” Not entirely, not anymore.



***



“I wouldn’t wish dancing with Spike on anyone,” Connor joked, and spun Wesley around, then pulled him in, so that they were chest to chest with Wesley having no means of escape. “Consider me your knight in shining armour.”



“Well, thank you, good sir,” Wesley answered, grinning, and fell into step alongside Connor, the drug and the booze making him significantly more pliable than he’d normally be. “I owe you a great debt.”



Wesley allowed his eyes to drift between Connor, in front of him, touching him, smiling at him, and Lindsey, up on the stage, and commanding attention and covetous appraisal like Wesley knew he would, and he tried to hide the drool, and the hardness of his dick at the sight.



Shit, he needed that boy. He ached for him, his body felt empty without him, his soul hollow. Yes, sure it wasn’t nearly as bad as he fancied it at the moment, his desire not nearly so strong, but he was high, and merrily drunk, and at this moment he loved Lindsey like he didn’t think he was capable of loving.



Connor knew Wes was high, and drunk and probably mostly humouring him, but he couldn’t help the part of him that internally jumped in delight when Wesley accepted his dance, his arms around him, his fingers tickling Wesley’s neck, or the part that leaned forward, slowly and carefully, and covered Wesley’s lips with his own.



And as much as Wesley wanted to resist, he had to give in, to accept the kiss and return it, and push his whole body against Connor’s, and feel the younger boy’s proud erection through his jeans and against Wesley’s hip. Damn. In the back of his mind he knew this was bad. Very, very bad, but at the moment he didn’t seem to care, and he spent the next two songs plastered to Connor’s side, and not giving a rat’s arse about anybody else.



***



Faith had somehow managed to get herself tangled up in Gunn’s arms, and as much as she’d liked to have pretended that she didn’t like it, that she didn’t feel more comfortable than she’d ever felt, and wasn’t getting turned on, like nobody’s business, by his proximity, she couldn’t lie to herself.



Or to Spike, who, over Fred’s head was taking a very long, very hard look at the two, and was noticing a spark between them large enough to power the whole block, not that they’d admit it.



The song slowly died out, and as it ended Fred went off to the library, giving Spike some excuse about needing to study for a test, and Gunn took off, blowing Faith a kiss, like he always did and giving her a friendly elbow bump, and Spike and Faith were left, standing alone, and watching Connor and Wesley, and Anya in the corner checking out Angel, and with a mutual shrug they came together and started moving to the next song.



“You’re tense,” Faith whispered in his ear. “What’s wrong?”



He wanted to tell her all about what he thought of Fred, and how she kept on giving him hints only to run off and pretend it never happened, and how that was okay, because he had no plans to steel someone else’s girl, not that Fred could ever be stolen, because that girl only ever did exactly what she wanted to, but how it wasn’t okay because he really, really wanted to be with her.



But that would have made him feel overly exposed. Besides, she seemed to be having some romantic troubles of her own that she didn’t feel like talking about, so he just shook his head and nodded toward Wes and Connor. They were even more a problem as far as he was concerned.



“He doesn’t understand. Connor’s in love with him. And he keeps leading the poor little bastard on, without any intention of making anything real happen between them, and he’s only going to break the stupid kid’s heart, the son of a bitch.”



“Spike,” Faith said, and kissed him on the mouth. “Connor knows what he’s getting into. Wes told him he’s not interested in more than a fuck buddy, and if he’s not okay with it, he shouldn’t have said he was.”



“Mmm,” Spike answered, non-committaly, and chased Faith’s lips in a vacant kiss. She didn’t understand, because she’d never been in love, how hard it was to think rationally, when the object of so much intense emotion was so close, and yet so far. Connor would do anything to make Wes love him, and Wes never would, and Spike’s heart broke for them both.



“Let’s not think about them anymore,” he said, because it was completely killing his buzz.



“No problem,” Faith answered, with a lascivious smile and kissed him again.



***



Lindsey, from his position on the gym stage, watched the crowd. People dancing, and groping and drinking, and pretending not to drunk, and trying to avoid a teacher’s notice, and he saw Fred. Standing by the wall, and smiling up at him, and he felt bad for her. That she was alone, and watching him, without any of her friends to keep her company, while he got off on being the source of entertainment for the entire school.



He loved music. He loved to play, he loved to perform, and most of all, he loved to be loved, and when he saw Fred walk onto the dance floor with that skinny little Emo shit-head who liked to think that Wesley was his boyfriend, he was more confused than he was pissed off.



But she didn’t dance with him. And when he saw who she did dance with Connor was starting to look pretty damned good. Spike. What the hell was she doing with him? He took a very deep, internal breath, and tried to let it go. It didn’t mean anything. He knew they were friends, as much as it galled him, and she’d never go for that kind of punk-ass loser, right? Right.



A few more breaths and a few more bars and he was actually feeling pretty good, even watching his girl with another guy. Not that he could really call her his girl anymore, if he was being honest with himself. But then he turned his head, and caught sight of Wesley. Dancing. With Connor. And his grip on his guitar became so tight that he was afraid he would actually crack the wood.



What the fuck?! He thought, strumming the next chord especially hard. Wesley had told him that he wasn’t going out with that little shit, and there they were, all over each other, and Lindsey wouldn’t have been surprised if Wes had taken his pants off and bent over right there, letting the fucker take him in front of everyone.



He sighed, and closed his eyes and tried to calm down, to get back to the music, and ignore everything else. Fuck Fred, and her dancing with Spike where the whole school could watch, and see that he and her weren’t even a real couple anymore, and fuck Wes for dancing with Connor, for kissing him and letting himself be touched, when Lindsey had known for a fact that not two days ago Wesley had wanted to kiss him, be touched by him.



And fuck the fact that he was jealous, of all of them, in some fucked up way, but of Connor most of all, because Wesley had clearly lied to him. He most definitely had something going with the younger boy, and Lindsey couldn’t possibly hide the fact that he wanted it to be him.



And most certainly not to Oz, who had noticed the movement of Lindsey’s eyes, and the slightest faltering of his rhythm and lyrics, and been able to trace it all back to one person. Lindsey totally had a thing for Wes.



Huh.



***



Midnight was fast approaching, that dreaded hour when the school turned back into a pumpkin or however the hell Cinderella went, and Lindsey breathed an unconscious sigh of relief when Spike left with Faith, and he knew that Fred was safely tucked away in the library, studying.



Not that it would have mattered, really. They were over, and they both knew it. It was just a matter of who could drum up the courage to say it first.



His heart seized up and sank, though, when he saw Wesley and Connor stop dancing in order to kiss each other, soundly and intensely, on the mouth, and then take off, walking in the direction of the exit together. They couldn’t be... shit, they were going home together. Wesley had a boyfriend, and he was going to have sex with him, probably not for the first time, because he’d probably been lying to Lindsey, and Lindsey was too late.



Not that he’d have been ready for... well, he wouldn’t have been ready, anyway, but it still stung, in a ridiculous, irrational way, and he wanted Wesley all to himself.



He played the remainder of the night in a blind, distracted haze, packing up and loading his stuff into his truck without much comment or thought for anything, really, and he ignored Angel’s remarks on how he could have done better and felt his face redden as Oz told him he that he understood, and it was okay.



And then he went, to the library, to pick up Fred.



“How’d the studying go, babe?” he asked her, bending down next to her at the study table and placing a kiss on her cheek.



“Oh, you know,” she told him, smiling and packing up her books. “Like studying always goes. I’m pretty sure I’ll do well.”



“You always do,” he said, and smiled sadly, brushing the knuckle of his middle finger across her cheekbone. She really was beautiful. “You ready to go?”



“Yep!” she chirped, and stuffed all her things into bag, then stood up and started for the door with Lindsey. “I came, for a few songs,” she told him, as he held the door open for her to walk through. “You were good.”



He didn’t say anything until they were both inside his truck and on their way to Fred’s house. “I saw you,” he said, quietly, when he finally spoke.



She glanced up at him and then quickly looked back out through the front window, into the dark. “You mean dancin’ with Spike? That wasn’t...”



“I know it wasn’t,” he assured her, hoping it that it in fact wasn’t. “But it...” he stopped and sighed, not quite knowing what it was, or what to say or how to say it. This was it. It was over. They both knew it, but what the hell was he supposed to say?



It turned out he didn’t have to say anything. When he pulled up out front of her house she leaned across the cab to kiss him, quickly and sweetly. “Take care of yourself,” she told him, and she opened her mouth again, to say something, she didn’t know what. To beg him maybe? To not turn gay, to not leave her, to be with her and love her and want her like she thought he would, but she’d come to accept that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, a while ago, and now she really did understand.



Lindsey almost wanted to tell her to stop, that they didn’t have to do this, when he saw one lone tear trickle down her cheek and fade off somewhere around her chin. He almost said no, we can make this work, he almost told her that he loved her, because if that had been true, she would have stayed with him, and a part of him really, really wanted that. Instead he said, “You too,” and smiled a crooked smile.



“And it’s not like we’ll never see each other again,” Fred said, trying, like she always did, to make the best out of everything. “We’ll still be friends.”



“Sure we will.”



She nodded and turned to open the door, but turned back before she got the chance. “Just...” she said, her hand still gripping the door handle for dear life. “Don’t be afraid to be happy.”



She fled the truck quickly after that, and Lindsey drove away, frowning. It had gone much better than he ever could have hoped, and he didn’t feel nearly as empty as he thought he would, not being with Fred anymore. But... what the fuck was wrong with everyone? Why did people think that just because he had this sudden and new desire to fuck Wesley into next week, that it had anything to do with his happiness?



It had nothing to do with his emotions. Sure it didn’t. He nodded and drove home.



***



TBC