RockStarPeach

Okay... the end!!! I enjoyed the ride... mostly. Hope everyone else did, too. This chapter is twice the length of a regular chapter, so I`ve split it in two...

Here we go!

Title: Fast Times at Sunnydale High

Pairings/Characters: Lots. Mainly Wes/Lindsey, Lindsey/Fred, Wes/Connor, Spike/Fred, Spike/Faith

Rating: Adult eventually, for language, sex, underage drinking and drug

Summary: Wesley is a high school dork who has a crush on Lindsey, a cool kid with a girlfriend.

Banner by the wonderfully talented angelstoy , and manip under the cut by her as well. I just love her so much, there really aren`t words.




Previous chapters here

Artwork here. Check it out.

Chapter 20

It was Saturday afternoon, three days after Wesley had caught Lindsey and Connor going at it in the back of his truck in the middle of a party, and he hadn’t talked to either of them since. Connor had been leaving messages, sending emails, but he hadn’t called him back, and Lindsey hadn’t even tried to speak with him, and though it hurt, he’d been glad. He wouldn’t have known what to say to him anyway.

He was angry, betrayed, (and yes, he’d a newfound appreciation for the word understatement) and didn’t understand how the two of them could have done something like that, have made sure he saw it, and done it just to hurt him. He knew he had hurt Lindsey, in much the same way, last week, but it hadn’t been what he thought, and he’d tried to explain that. And he certainly wouldn’t have done anything designed to cause pain to the man he loved.

Instead of bothering to listen to Wesley, Lindsey had decided a better way to deal with things was to go off and fuck Connor, to give Wesley back some of the pain that he’d felt, and though it killed him that Lindsey would purposely cause him that kind of hurt, would want him to feel that bad, even temporarily, he sort of understood. Sort of, though the reasons that Wesley knew he had for what he’d done didn’t even half justify his actions.

Lindsey had thought he did the same, thought he’d disregarded him, his feelings, and made a conscious decision to be with someone else, regardless of what it did to him, to them. If only Lindsey had thought about something other than his own stupid ego for more than two seconds, and hadn’t been such a pig-headed, rash, stubborn bastard!!

Wesley was pissed off, surely, and absolutely. But he was sorry too, and he was lonely, and not having Lindsey around for the past week, knowing that things were so very wrong between them, was tearing a hole in his heart, and even now, after everything, he wanted to be with him.

Because sometimes, Wesley knew first hand, when people were in love, they were able to overlook things that no rational person ever should. Or at least to try. But love wasn’t rational, and neither was Wesley, as much as he hated Lindsey at the moment, he loved him, too, and he honestly couldn’t decide, if he saw him right now, whether he would hug him, or slug him.

So yes, he was glad he hadn’t called because Wesley would only have come across as a schizophrenic psycho, anyway. Besides, he hadn’t ruled out the possibility that Lindsey was happy things were over between them, and if he did call it might only be to let Wesley know that, to rub it in about how good it had been with Connor.

Lindsey wasn’t that much of an ass, he didn’t think, but he was heartbroken and stupid at the moment, and expecting the worst, to prepare himself for even more heartache. They both were.

And Connor. Shit. Wesley couldn’t entirely blame him either, though he’d have liked to. He knew that he’d been horrible to him, repeatedly. Used him, for nothing but sex, when the need arose, just as Lindsey had, effectively stuck him in the middle of his relationship problems. And Connor had gone along with it, with both him and Lindsey. And damn enthusiastically, if what he’d seen going on in the back of Lindsey’s truck was anything to go by.

In a way, a much clearer way than he understood Lindsey’s actions, he understood Connor’s. He was young, and selfish in regards to his own feelings, ego, heart, to an extent that Lindsey might possibly only surpass, but he wasn’t a bad kid. Wesley felt horrible about how they’d both used him, but Connor hadn’t exactly been innocent.

He must have known, all along, and especially with Lindsey, how his actions would hurt Wesley, and he felt that betrayal just as sharply as he did Lindsey’s.

He knew if he spoke with Connor he would only end up being harsh, saying things that weren’t true out of anger, resentment, and even worse, saying things that were true that he knew he should keep to himself. No, even if he’d lost Lindsey for good, he knew he’d been right when he decided to cut Connor out of his life. When he finally managed to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart enough to move on, he wanted to make sure that any future relationships had a better chance than the one with Lindsey had.

He’d finally left the house just that morning, needing to get out, to get some air, some perspective, even it meant braving the crowds in the mall to try to get his Christmas shopping done. It was in two days, and normally he would have had it all finished by now, gifts nicely wrapped with little bows and shiny name tags placed neatly under the tree, but he’d been distracted lately.

He came down from his bedroom, three presents wrapped and tucked under his arm, and went into the living room, to put them under the impressive looking Douglas Fur, next to the ones that his father and Spike had already put there.

“Hey Wes!” Fred greeted, too cheery for her even, and she cringed a little at how fake she sounded, but she knew Wes was having a rough time, and she just wanted to make it better for him. Not that sounding like Hyperactive Barbie was going to do that… “Finished your shoppin’?

“Yes,” he answered with a forced smile and put down his gifts, then sat on one of the chairs, looking at Spike and Fred, curled up on the couch together, holding hands and watching the lights on the tree sparkle. His whole body tightened with renewed pain and he missed Lindsey acutely in that moment.

“I’m rather behind this year, I know, but… I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

Fred offered him a reassuring smile, not quite knowing what to say. She didn’t want to bring Lindsey up if Wesley didn’t, but she really thought he should talk about it. Surely they could work everything out, she thought. They loved each other, she could just tell, and this whole thing had to be some kind of misunderstanding. If they would just get over themselves and talk to each other, they’d see that, and be happy.

“Better not have skimped out on my present this year just because your boyfriend fucked with your ex-tumble,” Spike said, characteristically vulgar, but there was a slight smirk on his lip and twinkle in his eye indicating he was joking around, crass though the joke was. He was trying to lighten the mood, take some of the stress, the seriousness, out of the situation and get Wesley to relax, start to get over it.

“Don’t worry, Spike,” Wesley said, with a snort. “I won’t let my emotional devastation get in the way of making sure you receive a decent Christmas gift.” He knew Spike wasn’t being serious, and it felt good to have some normalcy, what with Spike being as utter arse and all.

“You better not,” Spike agreed with a nod and eyed Wesley’s addition to the gift pile speculatively. None of those parcels looked large enough to be the Fender Stratocaster that Wesley knew he’d been eyeing up. “And speaking of Christmas gifts,” he said with a toothy smile and looking straight at Wesley. “Wot say I get you a whore?”

“What?!” Wesley spluttered, nearly chocking on his own tongue, and Fred punched him, hard in the arm.

“What?” Spike asked, sounding like he was confused about their objections. “Sex with a stranger is a great way to get over a broken heart.” He happened to know that was true, at least for him, but he hadn’t actually intended for Wesley to take him up on his offer. He just wanted to get him talking.

“You’re very sweet,” Wesley answered him, sounding sarcastic but actually quite genuine. “But I’m not sure I want to. Get over it.”

“Right,” Spike said, nodding his head decisively. “I’m just gonna kick the little fucker’s arse then.”

“Spike!” Fred admonished, though she honestly couldn’t say she’d blame him. Not after what Lindsey had done.

“Spike…” Wesley said, somewhat more defeated, tired. “Don’t. He acted rashly, yes, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. I never would have thought…” He’d never have thought that Lindsey would do something like that to him. None of them would have, not even Spike.

“No, you’re right,” Fred agreed with Wes. “It just doesn’t sound like him. Lindsey’s not that kind of guy.”

“I guess I just bring it out in him,” Wesley mused. “How flattering.”

“Don’t say that,” Fred told him, face and voice sympathetic. “It couldn’t have been what it looked like.”

“Oh, it was very much what it looked like,” Wesley countered. “Believe me. Though I suppose much of it is my fault anyway,” he thought out loud. It felt good to talk to someone about this, say these things outside of his own head. “If I hadn’t gotten so drunk and passed out with Connor, I wouldn’t have driven him away, driven him to this.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Spike shot, angry that Wesley was blaming himself at all for Lindsey’s asinine actions. “He’s clearly not good enough for you anyway, if he didn’t believe you when you told him nothing happened between you and Connor.”

“Almost nothing,” Wesley corrected. “I was still naked, in bed with another boy. I can see how he might take that the wrong way. And I didn’t get the chance to tell him. I left him messages, but… that’s not really the same thing.”

“I’m sure he’s feeling as bad about this as you are, Wes,” Fred said, trying to be helpful. She really believed it, too. She knew Lindsey, and this didn’t sound like him, and she was sure this whole thing was eating him up. “You should talk to him.”

“I tried,” Wes answered. “After he saw me… anyway, he wouldn’t return my calls, thought instead he should sleep with someone else, and he hasn’t tried to contact me since. If he’d wanted to talk, to work try to work this out, he would have called, came to see me, something. He clearly doesn’t.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to kick his arse?” Spike asked again, feeling utterly helpless and wanting, more than anything, for Wesley to be okay.

Wesley chuckled, an oddly hollow sound. “I’m sure. I think perhaps you were right all along, Spike. My interest in Lindsey was doomed from the start, and I really need to finally take your advice and try to get over it.”

“You sure you can?”

“No,” Wesley smiled. “I’m not sure I want to.”

“Do you really think you can forgive him, Wes?” Spike wondered. The last thing he wanted was for the two of them to get back together only for Lindsey to pull some shit like this again the next time he took something out of context.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wes said, to both of them. “I’m… Livid. And more hurt than I thought possible. By both Lindsey and Connor. I’m not making excuses for them, or for myself, because I know I fucked up here too, but… I just want it to be over. I think I already have forgiven him. The question is, does he want my forgiveness? And if he does, what does that mean?”

Fred and Spike were both pretty sure that Lindsey had realised he’d fucked up. Fred knew him pretty well, or thought she did, and even Spike, who was happy not knowing him at all, could tell, a while ago, how smitten Lindsey was with Wesley, how much he would want Wesley to tell him it was okay, take him back, make him happy again. They knew how much the boys cared for one another, and it was going to take more than this to keep them apart. It made Fred smile, and Spike cringe.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about random things, watching television, even laughing, and by the time Fred had gone home for the night, leaving Spike and Wesley huddled together and drinking hot buttered rums and watching ‘Black Christmas’ together, a dreadful Holiday horror film that had become a tradition between the two of them, Wesley was beginning to feel a little better.

He still missed Lindsey, of course, still hurt whenever he thought of him, still desperately wanted him back, needed him, but if it wasn’t to be he knew he’d be alright. Spike was very, very good like that. And so was Fred, he was learning.

The phone rang somewhere around half eleven, and they both jumped, screaming, and then quickly tried to pretend they hadn’t just acted like twelve year old girls. It wasn’t really their fault; they were watching one of those, ‘the call is coming from inside the house’ movies, and they were alone and it was dark.

“Yeah, I…” Spike said, trying to play it cool and Wesley laughed at him, kissing him on the cheek.

“Go and see who it is,” Wes told him. “I certainly don’t want to be next if it’s the killer.”

Spike mock scowled at him, but did as he asked. He was going to anyway. Wesley could hear the vague sounds of a conversation coming from the kitchen, so assumed it was one of Spike’s friends, and relaxed as best he could without Spike there with him, to watch the movie until his friend came back.

It took longer than he thought, almost five minutes, and when Spike came back into the living room he looked a little nervous.

“Wes,” he said, nodding his head toward the kitchen, where the phone was. “It’s Connor. He wants to talk to you, and I think you should listen.”

***

Lindsey hadn’t called Wesley since the big class Christmas party, when he’d fucked up spectacularly, and almost had sex with Connor. He had wanted to, a hundred times, wanted to tell Wesley he was sorry, that he’d been hurting and overreacted and he should have listened to Wes in the first place and not done what he did.

But what the hell was he supposed to say? ‘Yeah, sorry I rubbed off against some guy I hate just to try to make you feel bad. Still love me?’ That probably wasn’t going to go over too well. But he was sorry. And he did hope Wesley still loved him.

Oh, he was still a bit angry with Wes, for what he’d done, or what he’d allowed to happen, but he knew now that it hadn’t been what he’d thought, hadn’t been as bad, and that just made him feel worse about his own actions, angrier with Wes for not being as weak, as mean, as he was. Fuck! This whole thing was just so fucked up.

He should call, he knew. Apologise and tell Wesley that he’d get over what he had seen and beg Wes to get over it too, and tell him, like he’d wanted to a week ago that he loved him, that he wanted him, and they could be so good, so happy, if Wesley could only get past what an ass he’d been, and yeah, he probably owed Connor an apology too.

But fuck, he didn’t want to have to talk to that irritating little shit, to tell him he’d been wrong to use him like that, and he sure as hell didn’t want to call Wes, to talk to his voicemail like Wes had talked to his, to leave the same messages, but worse, because when Wes had seen them it had been exactly what it looked like, and he had no excuse, and if he hadn’t called Wesley back, hadn’t wanted to listen, what the hell would make him think that Wesley would listen to him now?

“You fucked up, man,” Angel told him, cutting into his musings. They weren’t even pretending to practise today, just hanging out in the garage and drinking beer. “Forget about the fact that it was Connor you fucked, and trust me, that’s enough of a fuck-up in itself, but… That just wasn’t cool.”

“Wow. I wouldn’t have expected you to come down so hard,” said Lindsey, looking derisive and taking a drink of his beer.

“Why the hell not?”

“Cause you’re a pig,” Lindsey told him, neutrally. “I figured you’d get a kick out of me fucking around, making my way through the queers at school.” He didn’t really believe that, but he was mad, hurt, and lashing out. “Besides. Not like he didn’t do the same thing.” Only it was.

Angel shook his head and guffawed. “Plenty of things I’d get a kick out of man, but cheating isn’t one of them.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Lindsey protested, but immediately snapped his mouth shut, not even believing his own words. Catching your boyfriend with another guy, like he’d done with Wes and Connor, was grounds for immediate release as far as most people were concerned, but his feelings for Wesley hadn’t changed, and he didn’t think Wesley’s had for him either. Things could have been okay by now, but instead Lindsey had just fucked them up even more.

Angel just snorted, and Oz raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“What?!” Lindsey barked, defensive.

“Whatever you say, pal,” Angel said.

“Lindsey, man, I get why you were upset, and I would have been too, but… you didn’t handle it right. You know that. You knew that when you were doing it. So don’t act like you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m not!” Lindsey shouted, getting pissed off at his friends and feeling like shit for it. “I know I fucked up! But if he…” If he hadn’t let himself be manoeuvred into bed with Connor, if he hadn’t had so much to drink and lost all his judgment and let Connor touch him, thinking he was Lindsey, then Lindsey wouldn’t have done what he had. Not that it was an excuse he planned on using, because even he could see how thin it was.

He knew he was in the wrong. Almost completely, and he’d be willing to admit to completely completely if it would get him Wes back, and he hated himself and this whole fucked up situation. “Yeah, I’m a shithead, alright. Can we move on?”

Oz shook his head, clucking his tongue at Lindsey. It wasn’t often he offered his opinion, preferring to let people work things out for themselves, but he loved Lindsey, and he knew Lindsey loved Wes and he didn’t want one of his best friends fucking up one of the greatest things that had happened to him. “You gotta make this right, man. I know he messed up too, but,” he shrugged, and looked at Lindsey as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You love each other. Sort it out.”

Oz was right. Fuck, everybody seemed to be right lately but him.

“How?” he asked, half scornful and half pleading. He desperately wanted to sort it out, wanted to stop feeling like shit, wanted to be with Wes again, wanted to be happy, not mope and bring his friends down, and not have acted like such a fuckin’ grade A asshole.

“Buy him something pretty and suck his dick,” Angel offered, and the others didn’t even bother to look at him.

“Tell him how you feel,” said Oz. “Be honest. Tell him you know you were wrong and you’re sorry, and it’s killing you every minute you’re not with him.” He shrugged and almost smiled. “And if that doesn’t work, buy him something pretty and suck his dick.”

Lindsey chuckled, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a week. “You’re right. We just need to... talk. Either he forgives me and we get over this, or we don’t. But I gotta try.”

***

TBC