RockStarPeach

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.

Monday morning, Christmas morning, Lindsey, his father and his stepmother sat in their living room, remnants of a decadent celebratory breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes with chocolate cream, fresh squeezed orange juice and coffee littering the kitchen behind them.

Missy didn’t cook like that very often, only on Sunday nights for family dinners, and that was mostly just a store-bought, oven-ready roast, and throwing a few vegetables into some water, but Christmas was a special occasion, and she wanted to spoil her boys.

It had actually been very good, and Lindsey was sort of surprised by that, but not by the display he was currently watching, Missy draped all over his father in his plush leather chair by the window, smiling and giggling and stroking his face as she wriggled in his lap. Lindsey was seated across from them on the sofa and tried valiantly to look at the Christmas tree, or the wall or the inside of his eyelids or anything but his father and his wife.

Bits of brightly coloured paper were scattered over the carpet, having missed the garbage bag after they’d been torn off presents, and Missy was fingering her brand new diamond necklace and placing kisses of thank you and promises for later all over his dad’s face, and Lindsey hated them just a little, for being so happy.

He still hadn’t talked to Wesley. He had wanted to, had wanted to call him up on Saturday as soon as he’d gotten home from Angel’s place and make everything better, or put himself out of his misery, but he thought he might need more than just a phone call and a half-baked apology mixed in with an accusation of infidelity to make things right between them.

He did have a plan, though. He was going to talk with Wesley today. He wasn’t counting on Wes actually wanting to talk, to see him, knowing he should have called much sooner than this, and every day he didn’t was a day that Wes would have gotten angrier, pushed him further away, forgotten about him, but he had needed time. Time to think and to be sure and to get over what Wes had done to him, and to stop denying the fact that he was in love, and couldn’t even imagine his future without Wesley in it.

He hoped it wasn’t too late, thought Wes would probably just hang up on him if he called, and certainly not agree to meet him, so he wasn’t going to ask. Not Wes anyway.

“Thanks for the presents, dad,” he said, standing up and heading toward the couple on the chair. He smiled and clapped his hand on his father’s arm, and his dad smiled back and nodded, thanking him as well.

“Missy,” he added, grinning and kissing her on the cheek before stepping back. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” Missy returned.

“Merry Christmas, son,” his father answered.

Lindsey smiled once more and took another step back. “I’m gonna go make a call,” he said. But they weren’t listening anymore. He snorted and shook his head and turned around, heading for his room, and the phone.

***

Wesley, his father and Spike got home from church at a little after half ten, and Wesley headed into the kitchen straight away, laughing and almost bouncing and putting a saucepan of milk on the stove to make hot chocolate as his father went straight for the fireplace to light a fire, and Spike turned on all the Christmas lights.

It was warm that day, and they didn’t really need the chocolate, and certainly not a fire, but it had always been a tradition for them back home, and Wesley and his father looked forward to it each year. And so did Spike.

It was warm, and comfortable and happy, and they drunk and laughed and opened gifts and when they were finished they sat, quietly and watched the fire, and Wesley almost didn’t think about Lindsey.

He couldn’t help it though, because he knew that afternoon Spike was going to leave, go to Fred’s place, and his father would work in his study and he’d be alone, and wishing that he wasn’t, wishing that Lindsey was there with him.

Sure, he’d been hurt, sure he’d hurt Lindsey, but it almost didn’t matter anymore, not to Wes, not if they were together. But they weren’t and it obviously still mattered to Lindsey, because it had been almost a week since they last saw each other, and if he’d wanted to patch things up, he would have tried by now.

The phone rang then, and Wesley held his breath, his father barely noticed, just smiled into his sip of drink and watched the logs crackle, and Spike got up to go to the kitchen and answer the phone.

Wesley heard a vague mumble from Spike, followed by some more chatter and he sighed. It was probably Fred, calling to wish him a Merry Christmas, and he shouldn’t have bothered getting his hopes up that it would have been Lindsey.

He was beginning to resign himself to the fact that it was over, and along with that resignation came a sort of anger that Lindsey would have the gall to completely write off Wes’s apology, then do something even worse to get back at him, and not even think he had any reason to apologise himself.

Yes, anger he could deal with. It was much, much better than the hollow numbness he would be feeling otherwise.

***

“’Lo,” Spike spoke into the phone, warmly. He couldn’t think of anyone who would be calling today except close friends and family, and he was hoping that it was either Fred or his parents. And if wasn’t his parents he was going to have to call them after this. It wasn’t. It wasn’t Fred either.

“Uh, hey, Spike,” Lindsey answered, almost cringing for fear of Spike just slamming the phone down before he’d even heard what he had to say. He wouldn’t blame him if he did, really. He’d been a complete shit to Wes, and Spike had threatened to do much worse than hang up on him for it.

“What the hell do you want?” Spike hissed, trying to keep his voice down. He didn’t want Wesley to know who had called. Not until he decided if the jerk-off deserved to speak to Wesley or not.

“Wesley,” was what Lindsey said, voice so honest and pleading that Spike nearly gave his friend the telephone. Nearly.

“Yeah, well. He’s busy.”

“I don’t want to talk to him. Hell, I know he probably wouldn’t take my call anyway. I want to see him.”

“And you’re telling me this because…” Spike prompted, half wishing Lindsey had never called, and half hoping that he’d give him a reason to tell Wes to go to him. He was a twat, sure, but Wes loved him, and Spike was beginning to think that he loved Wes. They’d be happy, if they could manage to get their shit together, and Spike wanted that. For Wesley anyway. And he supposed it wouldn’t kill him if Lindsey got some happiness out of the deal, too.

Hey, look at that. He was growing as a person.

“Because he’ll listen to you,” Lindsey said. And he would. If Spike told Wes to give Lindsey a shot, to see him, to listen to him, then he would. Which was why he was eternally grateful that Spike had answered the phone, and not Wesley.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong about that,” Spike agreed. “But why the hell should I listen to you?”

“Spike,” Lindsey growled. He hated this. Hating having to explain himself to this prick, but he knew he had to, if he wanted to get Wes back. “Just shut the fuck up and do me a favour, would ya?” Oops.

“You know, the only reason I haven’t already kicked your arse is because Wesley doesn’t want me to.”

“Yeah, I’m shakin’,” Lindsey said, and Spike could hear him rolling his eyes. “Just… fuck. I know I fucked up, alright? I want to make it up to him. I want to spend as long as it takes proving to him that I won’t fuck up like that again, and I need your help.”

“You don’t deserve him.”

“I love him.” And Lindsey sounded so lost and desperate that Spike didn’t have a choice.

He swore, under his breath and bit out a harsh, “Fine. What do you want?” into the mouthpiece.

“I just want you to drive him somewhere. This afternoon.”

“Lindsey,” Spike warned again. “If you fuck this up, again, I’m not gonna care what Wes wants. I’ll just make you very, very sorry.” He strongly suspected that there was nothing he could do to make Lindsey sorrier than he already was, and really that was the only reason he was agreeing to this.

“I love him,” Lindsey said again, as if it were an answer. It probably was.

Spike sighed. “Where do you want me to take him?”

***

Two hours later, Wesley and Spike were downstairs in Spike’s room, hanging out and absently chatting. As a Christmas gift, Spike’s parents had decided to buy him an apartment in Sunnydale, as he’d be staying there for at least the next four years for college, and perhaps beyond that. He wasn’t sure what he’d be doing once school was finished, but he could always sell it if he wanted to move, and though he’d enjoyed living in Wesley’s basement, he was glad to have a place that was his.

He’d miss Wes, he figured, even though they’d still be in the same town, and he’d be lonely, not used to the quiet, in a place all on his own, but… he didn’t have to be.

“I get the keys on the fourth,” Spike said, smiling broadly and randomly picking at one string, then another, on the new guitar he’d gotten as a joint gift from Wesley and his father. He knew Wes would come through for him. Not that he couldn’t have just bought it himself, but it meant more that Wesley had thought of it.

“That’s fantastic, Spike,” Wesley smiled back. “It’s about bloody time they got you someplace decent to live.” And the apartment was decent. More than. Spike’s parents had emailed him pictures, and he’d shown them to Wesley, and they’d spent half an hour deciding what furniture he’d need and where it would go. He’d miss having Spike around, but it was time he got out of the basement. “Do you think you’ll be packed by then?”

“Think you will be?” Spike asked.

“Think I… what?” Wesley asked with a confused frown.

“Oh, come on. It’s a two bedroom, there’s plenty of space, and you don’t want to spend your college days living with your dad, do ya?”

“I…” No, he didn’t. Not without Spike. He didn’t want to come home to an empty house most days, and one that usually felt empty even when it wasn’t. Not without having Lindsey to bring home to make use of it. And even if they still were together, he knew Lindsey was headed off to LA for school, and wouldn’t be around much during the week anyway. “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

They paused for a second, to look at each other and grin, great big goofy grins of excitement and change, before Spike tossed his fender down on the couch next to him and stood.

“Right, so I’m off to Fred’s for a bit.” Wesley nodded morosely and stood as well, preparing to head upstairs so Spike could take off. He didn’t begrudge his friend seeing his girlfriend today, but it was really just rubbing in how much he wasn’t with the person he wanted to be with.

“Oh, don’t look like I just killed your puppy,” Spike sighed. “You’re coming with me.”

“I don’t think the two of you need company,” Wesley told him, but he couldn’t help sort of hoping they did. He really didn’t want to be alone.

“You’re not coming to Fred’s with me.”

“Then… where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

***

After twenty minutes of rare, silent driving, Spike turned into a parking lot off the road. He saw Lindsey’s car, a way’s up the beach, so he mentally shrugged and kept on driving, past the signs that suggested that no motor vehicles were allowed beyond that point, until he brought them to a stop about ten meters from Lindsey’s car. And from Lindsey, standing outside, hands in his pockets, feet shuffling in the sand and looking expectantly at Spike’s car.

Spike put his hand on his door handle and motioned for Wesley to do the same, both of them getting out of the car and standing next to it, looking at each other, and sneaking glances at Lindsey standing a short distance away.

“Spike?” Wesley asked, when he realised where they were and who else was there. “What the hell is going on?”

Spike shrugged, as if he didn’t know the answer to that. “Lindsey called me. Said he wanted to see you, said he wanted to get you back.” Really, that was the only answer he had, and he hoped Wesley thought it was a good one. “I don’t know if he deserves another chance, Wes. Don’t know if you do, to be honest, after what you did to him.”

It was the first time that Spike had put any blame on Wesley, even though he’d deserved it, and Wesley was taken aback by the statement. “You don’t know if I…” he said, righteous indignation filling his face and voice for a fraction of a second, before he conceded. “I probably don’t.”

“But he asked me to bring you here,” Spike continued, as if Wesley hadn’t spoken.

“Since when does Lindsey call you up for a chat? And since when do you listen to him about anything?”

“Since you’re miserable without him,” Spike answered, simply. “Look, Wes, I know I’ve been a jerk, okay more of a jerk, since you started seeing him, and I… bugger, I’m sorry, okay? This whole thing’s been hard on you, both of you,” he added looking at Lindsey and nodding. “And I didn’t exactly make it any easier. I should have. Should have been there, should have been more supportive.” He sighed and stepped around the car to stand next to Wesley.

“He’s not good enough for you. He fucked up. Hard. And nobody using their brain wouldn’t even think about telling you to give him another chance.”

“Spike…” Wesley warned, but Spike cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“But I know you love him,” Spike continued, as if Wesley hadn’t spoken. “And he… Well he wants to make it better.” He didn’t think it was up to him to tell Wes that Lindsey loved him, too. Not when he hadn’t told him himself.

He really wasn’t sure if he wanted things to work out between them or not, but hell. The guy had called him up, when he knew how much Spike must be hating him over how he’d treated Wes, after he’d promised a first class arse kicking if Wes was even remotely hurt by anything Lindsey had done, and asked for his help. And that took balls. Hell he might even be able to like the son of a bitch someday after all.

“I want you to be happy,” Spike told him. “Even if what makes you happy is him.”

“Spike,” Wes said again, but his tone was softer this time, and he was feeling ridiculously soft and squishy at Spike’s words. It meant a lot that Spike felt bad about how he’d acted, and it meant even more that he was willing to help him and Lindsey get back together. If, indeed, that’s what this was. He was entirely uncertain about what to expect.

He took Spike’s hand in his, squeezing gently before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” he said to him.

“Love you, Wes,” Spike whispered. “Least I could do is bloody act like it on occasion. Now piss off and go see your sweetie-pie so the two of you can shag and make up.”

Wesley snorted and rolled his eyes, stepping back from Spike. “Ever the romantic.”

“Right. I’m off to see Fred. If… if you need me to come get you, just call.”

Wesley nodded and Spike got back in his car, finding that he really hoped Wesley didn’t need to call him. Damn, but that was terrible.

Wes didn’t know what to expect, or what Lindsey would say to him, or what he would say in return. He looked at the other boy, smiling tentatively at him, and he didn’t return the smile, but he did take a deep breath and shut the car door behind him, before starting to walk toward Lindsey as Spike drove off.

He was just standing there, alone, next to his school bag, kicking up small spurts of sand, and as Wesley got nearer, he got scared. What if Lindsey didn’t want to go back? What if he hadn’t forgiven Wes? What if he wasn’t sorry about what he’d done? No, that couldn’t be. Why the hell would he have asked him here if that was the case?

“You wanna sit down?” Lindsey asked, gesturing to the sand near his feet.

Wesley just stood, staring at Lindsey as if waiting for an explanation.

Lindsey sighed and sat down himself, running his hand over the cool ground next to him. “Please,” he said, looking up at Wesley.

Wesley wanted to leave, wanted to punch Lindsey in that stupid, pretty face of his, wanted to yell at him, to beg his forgiveness, to wrap his arms around him and kiss him, forever. He sat.

Lindsey huffed out a small breath of relief and stared at his fingers, absently picking at a cuticle. Wes hadn’t left as soon as he’d seen him, and it looked as if he might actually want to talk. That was good. He reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out two beers, offering one to Wesley, hoping he’d take it.

Wesley eyed the bottle quizzically, and then looked at Lindsey, who pushed the bottle further towards him and shrugged, smiling shyly. “It’s Monday.”

Wesley didn’t say anything, didn’t really trust himself to speak yet, but he took the bottle, and watched as Lindsey popped the top on his can and took a swig. He put his own down in the sand between his legs and frowned, waiting for almost a full minute for Lindsey to speak again. He didn’t.

“Lindsey, what the hell is this about?” Wes finally asked.

Lindsey’s hand disappeared again inside his school bag, and when it emerged it was holding a package, plain red paper folded neatly over whatever was inside, and he handed it to Wesley, who took it without a word, too surprised not to. “Merry Christmas,” Lindsey told him.

“Lindsey, I...” Wesley started, and shook his head, not quite knowing where this came from. A Christmas gift? They hadn’t really spoken in two weeks, Wesley hadn’t been sure that they ever would again, though he was happier than he’d ever been when he’d realised that Lindsey had wanted to see him, and now Lindsey was giving a Christmas gift?

“Oz said I should apologize. Tell you how I feel, and that I know I fucked up and... And if that didn’t work, that I should give you something pretty and suck your dick.” He broke off and chuckled, seeming to find some genuine humour in the situation, but Wesley just looked confused. And pissed off.

“I thought I’d start with the ‘something pretty’. It might make the apology go smoother.” And then maybe they could make their way around to that dick sucking, but Lindsey wasn’t holding his breath.

Wesley looked at the package – a book, if the size and shape were anything to go by – and balanced it on his knee, hand resting on top of it. “And if Oz told you to jump off a bridge, would you do that as well?” He asked, tone haughty, superior. The last thing he wanted to do was to get into an argument now, when Lindsey was obviously trying, but he wasn’t impressed that Lindsey had just said he was doing this because his friend told him to.

“Well, Oz happens to be right about this,” Lindsey said, tilting a little closer to Wesley, brushing their arms together. Wesley sucked in a breath at the contact, unconsciously leaned a little closer to Lindsey so that they were almost pressed together, and they both closed their eyes for a moment, and in that moment, any doubts either of them had as to whether or not they wanted things to be okay between them, vanished.

They were both here, after all. Both needing to be together, despite everything, and sure, this probably wasn’t going to be the only problem they’d ever face, and they were both still hurting, but… What it came down to was how they felt about each other, and the feelings were much too strong to let go of, even because of Wesley’s mistake and Lindsey’s spectacular fuck-up.

“Open it,” Lindsey said, almost a whisper, and he nodded toward the present on Wesley’s knee.

Wesley smiled, small but honest, and carefully pulled the taped edges apart, removing the paper and placing down on the sand beside him. And then he looked at the gift.

He was right; it was a book.

“It’s an original print,” Lindsey offered, because he’d gone to some trouble and expense to acquire it, and he wanted to make sure Wesley knew how much he’d put into this, that he’d been thinking of him, wanting to do something special for him, that it wasn’t just as if he’d stopped by Barnes and Noble on the way here and picked something up.

“It’s…” Wesley said, looking at the cover, not sure how to finish that sentence. On The Road. Hmm.

“I noticed that you didn’t have it, and I know how much you like books so…”

Wesley laughed. Hard and long, until he thought he might have a hernia, or more probably throw up. Oh, God, this was priceless! It felt great to laugh, like some sort of release, even if only half of it was due to his amusement at the gift. A good portion of his outburst was due to nerves.

He’d known, even as he was watching Lindsey’s little show with Connor, that he still loved him, still wanted him, and would get over this, if Lindsey wanted him to. But now that it was actually happening, now that he was faced with Lindsey, looking so sorry about, so scared that Wesley wouldn’t forgive him, so obviously wishing he hadn’t done what he’d done, it was a little too real.

Of course he would take Lindsey back. There hadn’t even been any doubt of that, not for Wesley, but it was terrifying. Lindsey could very easily do something just as stupid as he had, or even stupider, though Wes couldn’t quite imagine anything that would fall into that category, and shatter Wesley’s heart into a million pieces again, hurt him beyond repair. But the thought of that pain was nothing compared to the pain of not having Lindsey in his life.

“What?” Lindsey asked, sounding a little defensive. He’d put a lot of thought into that, and Wesley was laughing?

“Lindsey,” Wesley said, when he’d managed to calm down. “There’s a reason I don’t have this book. It’s the single largest piece of pretentious bullshit that I’ve ever wasted my time on. I hate it!” He was still smiling.

“Oh,” Lindsey said, frowning, and his face fell. “Well, I can… I can get you something else. Just tell me what you like. Anything.”

“No,” he said, seriously, and gripped the book tighter when Lindsey made to reach for it. “Thank you. It means a lot.” And it did. It meant, ‘I know I fucked up’ and ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I’m thinking of you’ and in a way that nothing ever had before, combined with the phone call to Spike and impromptu beer picnic on the beech on a chilly Christmas afternoon, it meant ‘I love you’.

Lindsey snorted, but managed a small smile. Trust Wes not to pretend he liked something if he didn’t. At least he genuinely seemed to appreciate it though, and it made Lindsey feel good to hear him laugh, to be the one to put that brilliant smile on his face. He wanted to keep making him smile, for a long, long time. He’d just have to make sure not to be so much an idiot from now on, if Wes let him.

.

Wesley turned and placed the book down on the discarded wrapping paper next to him before turning back to Lindsey, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

“I don’t have anything for you,” he admitted quietly, feeling stupid. Sure, he couldn’t have known that he’d be seeing Lindsey today, but he hadn’t even thought to get him a gift at all. Okay, that wasn’t strictly true; he’d thought about it, wanted to, imagined it, what he’d get and how much Lindsey would love it, love him, but he hadn’t let himself, too afraid he’d be rejected. It was sort of amusing that Lindsey had obviously been thinking the same thing. The difference was, he wasn’t a great big chicken, like Wesley.

Oh, and also, Wesley was pissed off. He couldn’t let himself forget that. Lindsey had been a jerk, didn’t deserve anything from him, deserved to grovel and beg and crawl for Wesley’s forgiveness. He knew that. He wasn’t stupid.

“Tell me you forgive me,” Lindsey said, looking straight at him, face open. “That’s the best present I could ask for right now.”

Wes smiled a little again, teasing this time to try to hide his hurt, and tilted his head a fraction. “But you haven’t apologised yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said, without hesitation, because he really was. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you when you tried to talk to me after… after I caught you with him.” Those words were harder to get out that he thought they’d be. He’d already forgiven Wes for what he’d done, but it was obviously going to be a sore spot for awhile.

“I’m sorry that I did what I did with him the back of my fucking truck, and I’m sorry I made you watch it. I was an asshole. Totally. I was trying to make you feel what I felt, thinking… I don’t even know what.” He dug his heel into the sand in front of him, watching the small grains pile up innocuously on either side of his foot, wishing he could do a lot more damage. He hated himself for what he’d done, for how much he’d hurt Wesley, and he knew he had to work on this vengeful streak of his. Wanted to. For Wes.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, and then cringed, not sure how the endearment would be received, but he looked sideways at Wesley, and his face remained neutral, so he continued. “I’ve never felt this way before. About anyone. When I’m with you, when I think about you, when you touch me… It’s so amazing I almost can’t stand it. When you did what you did, it almost killed me. And I got a little crazy.

“Shit, I’m not very good at this ‘bearing your soul’ crap, never have been. Even worse at admitting that I was wrong,” he added with a small smile. “When you were with Connor… it didn’t change how I felt about you. I’m not sure anything could. And that just pissed me off even more. I never stopped wanting you, not for a second. But I was a dick. Instead of telling you that, I decided that I needed to… even the score somehow, I guess. That if I did what you did, and we all knew about it, that we could forget all about that skinny little emo freak, and get on with things, but… it only made everything worse. I know that.

“And I know that I probably don’t deserve another chance, but… I want one. Need one. I need you, Wes. Everything just seems so dull, lifeless when you’re not around, and I feel sick, Wes, physically ill, that I did something like that to you, hurt you. On purpose. I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, but please tell me you can.”

“You broke my heart Lindsey,” Wesley said, finally, voice shaking with emotion. A rather large part of him just wanted to skip this part, skip talking about any of it, and just get to the next part where they were happy, but he knew it would help to clear the air, uncomfortable as it was. “Seeing the two of you together was like... I thought I had died. I’m in love with you. Do you understand that? Do you even know what that feels like?”

Lindsey swallowed and tentatively took Wesley’s hand. “I think I do.”

“I know it didn’t mean very much to you, what you did, and I don’t really think that makes it any better. You wanted me to see that. You wanted to hurt me. I know, I suppose I even knew then, that it was just your fucked up way of trying to make things right, but it was wrong. You were wrong.”

“I know that, Wes,” Lindsey said, voice and eyes pleading for a forgiveness that he knew he didn’t deserve. “And I’ll do anything. Anything. I just… please know that I’m more fuckin’ sorry about this than I’ve ever been. I didn’t deal with this right, I know that. And I’m gonna spend however long you let me tryin’ to make this up to you, to learn how to deal with things better. Please Wes,” he begged, unshed tears, brought on by the fear that Wes might not take him back, glistening in his eyes. “Please. I need you.”

Wesley chuckled, though there was nothing really funny about anything. “You don’t, actually. You’d be fine without me, after a while. Just as I’d be fine without you.” It was true, people broke up all the time, and were fine eventually. But neither of them wanted to be.

“Don’t say that,” Lindsey begged. “I did a shitty thing.” Wesley looked at him incredulously and Lindsey amended, “Okay, a completely fucked up, asshole thing. But I only did it because I… I wanted you back, and it was the only thing I could think of doing to make that happen, the only way I could get over what I thought you did. I was wrong about that, I know that now. Fuck, I knew that then, but… I’m just sorry. And if you let me, if you help me, I’ll be good for you. Good to you.”

“You’re right,” Wesley said, squeezing Lindsey’s hand, the first sign he’d acknowledged that Lindsey had taken it. “You are an asshole. There’s not a single one of my friends that thinks I should take you back after… well after what a complete and utter twat you were.”

“Not one of mine, either,” Lindsey mumbled, trying to be angry that nobody was on his side, but unable to deny that they were all right. Fuck, where was time travel when you needed it?

“Luckily none of them gets to decide what I chose to do,” Wesley said, corner of his mouth turning up as he looked shyly at Lindsey. “I’ve already forgiven you, I suppose. You were hurting, you lashed out, acted… I’d say unforgivably, but we but we both know that’s not entirely true. I know you better than you think I do, Lindsey. I know you can be petty, and vindictive, but I know that it takes a lot of feeling to bring that out in you.

“I just… need to know that you’re not going to jump into bed with whichever person crosses your path every time we have a misunderstanding.”

“You know Connor didn’t just ‘cross my path’, Wes,” Lindsey said, sounding apologetic and a little bit frustrated. “You know I only did it, only picked him, because you did.”

“Well, yes. It would be good if we could avoid the whole ‘tit for tat’ sort of relationship, if you think you can manage it.”

“I’m sure as hell gonna try,” Lindsey said, and after a few seconds, when he realised that Wesley really did forgive him, and they really would be okay, and he was allowed to be upset too, continued.

“And… Misunderstanding?” he asked, making the word sound like a huge understatement. “I know I overreacted, but Wes, come on. I caught you in bed. Naked. With someone else. I know you had had a lot to drink, and you weren’t exactly thinking clearly, but you have to admit that you made at least a couple of bad choices that night.”

Wesley cocked his eyebrow at Lindsey, and Lindsey immediately ducked his head. “You’re right. Sorry. There’s no excuse for what I did, and I swear to you, if you take me back, nothing like this will ever happen again. Hurting you like that, once… it was more than enough. I’m damn glad you czn forgive me, because it’ll be a while before I can forgive myself.”

“No, it won’t happen again,” Wesley said, full of confidence. It wouldn’t. They’d learnt their lesson early on, and hopefully they could both use it to make their relationship better. “Because from now on we’re going to talk about things when we’re upset, and we’re going to believe each other. Because if we can’t trust each other, then we have nothing anyway. And... And I’m sorry too,” Wesley said, dropping his eyes and holding Lindsey’s hand tighter.

“I shouldn’t have been with Connor. Period. I’m a moron. An insensitive, selfish, clueless moron, and I’m so very sorry that I did that to you, that you had to see… It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to initiate sex, and I knew that, and no, I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I should have known better than to let him help me into bed. Though I promise you, Lindsey, nothing happened. I wouldn’t have let it.”

“I know,” Lindsey said, cracking a bit of a smile. “Connor told me what really went on that night. I think he’s finally decided to back off and let you be with me.”

Wesley returned his smile and picked up his beer, finally twisting the top off and drinking some. “I think so too. Though I’m fairly certain that I don’t need for Connor to let me do anything. But yes, he called me a few days after the two of you... well... and told me how horrible he felt about everything and that he understood that I was never going to love him, and he genuinely seemed like he was going to be okay with it. Besides, I have a feeling Andrew has begun to wear him down.”

Lindsey laughed and raised his beer can, clinking it against Wesley’s. “Here’s to them. Hope it gets them out of our hair.”

“Yes, quite,” Wesley agreed, and then there was a smugness about him that would have been annoying as hell if it wasn’t so damn cute. “He also told me that the two of you didn’t go all the way. You had planned on it, but couldn’t go through with it because you were both thinking of me. He even told me that you called out my name at some point.”

Wesley looked entirely too pleased with himself, especially for someone who was talking about how they’d been cheated on, but Lindsey had to admit that his ability to seem superior even at the worst of times was one of things he loved about him, and he smiled and shook his head. “Pfft. Whatever. You think you’re pretty hot, don’t you?”

Wesley face grew serious and he looked out onto the ocean, small waves crashing against the sand and being pulled back out. “I’m glad,” he said, quietly. “The idea of you with someone else... I know you still did... things... and I’m going to have a hard time getting rid of those images, but I’m very glad that you didn’t have sex with him.”

Several minutes passed in silence, both of them sipping from their drinks and watching the waves break on the shore. “Are we okay?” Lindsey finally asked. He thought they were, thought that Wes thought they were, but he needed for someone to say it out loud, to make it official somehow, that they were together, that they were good, that things would work out.

“Yes,” Wesley answered, turning to him with so much joy and love in his eyes. “Yes, I think we are.”

“Thank Christ,” Lindsey breathed, relief washing through him. “You know I… I just want to forget about this,” he finished, but his first instinct had been to say something else. “I just want you.”

“I love you, Lindsey,” Wesley said in answer. “I want that too.” He really did. He even thought that if they tried hard enough, it might work.

“So… what now?” Lindsey asked, glad that they were back, but still a little unsure, a little awkward.

“Now?” Wesley asked with a mischievous grin. “Now, you spend the foreseeable future being ridiculously kind, thoughtful, selfless, catering to my every whim and doing exactly as I tell you until I decide to let you off the hook for what you did. I think we’ll start with you reminding me what it was that Oz suggested you do after you buy me something pretty.”

Lindsey laughed, warmth filling him as he leaned closer to Wesley and whispered, “Let me show you.”

And for a start, he kissed him.

END