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Fast Times at Sunnydale High	By : rockstarpeach Category: > Spike(William)/Xander > Spike(William)/Xander Views: 2780 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', or 'Angel', or any of the characters involved. I'm making no money, just having some fun.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1

Oh, fuck, Lindsey thought tiredly, as he headed toward his locker. It was 2:45 in the afternoon, and now that classes were over for the day he was looking forward to dropping his books off and heading out with his girl, maybe driving his truck over to Millers Woods, even though it wasn�t close to dark yet, and seeing how far she�s let him get today.
Probably not very; she never did, but it was always worth a shot. She was cute and fun and he really did like her and it wasn�t really too much of a hardship for him to have to go home after they�d been fooling around, remembering tongues and lips and hesitant touches, and sometimes, if he was lucky, a tiny little taste of tit, and jerk off in his room to the dirty magazines he kept under his bed.
It wasn�t exactly a picnic, either.
Sometimes he missed how easy Darla had been.
He glanced down at the Economics book in his hand and considered just taking it home with him, instead of putting it away. Fuck, that might even make it look like he was doing some studying, not that he needed to, and get his dad off his case for a while.
But he was meeting Fred here, so he rolled his eyes and kept walking. Wesley�s locker was two down from his own, and the guy was currently standing in front of it, not looking like he was in a hurry to go anywhere, and of course wherever Wesley was, Spike was.
And Spike was weird.
Not in the same way that Michael and Amy were weird, with their incense and voodoo and all that shit, but Lindsey didn�t get him. He was pretty popular, or would have been if he�d cared about that shit, and didn�t have any problems making his way through all the chicks in high school � especially the ones at the Catholic school down the road from Sunnydale High � but he never bothered trying to win anyone�s approval. Lindsey thought he almost went out of his way to avoid it.
He was a jerk, a smart-ass, a punk, and he hung out with Wesley, who might come in second, if the school were to hold some kind of dork competition, only to Andrew. It was no wonder the two of them had been a couple for most of junior year. Neither of them could probably get anyone else to date them.
Spike pretty much had a permanent seat in detention, he told the teachers off regularly and thought that the teachers lounge was his personal smoking area.
He was someone that Lindsey and his crowd had happily avoided for most of the past two years with the exceptions of some shared classes and the occasional night out at the Bronze, where they were forced to drink and dance in the same space and once in a while listen to each other play vastly different styles of music and try not to vomit.
They�d never exactly gotten along, and existed quite happily with their mutual dislike fueling sarcastic digs and nasty comments, but lately Spike had been acting... weird. Paying Lindsey more attention than he ever had, and the comments he made had just been getting bizarre. Lindsey was feeling increasingly like there was some sort of joke he was unaware of, and he was the punch line. It was really pissing him off.
And if Lindsey had ever bothered to notice Wesley enough in the four years since the Brit had moved to California and been attending school with him to have any idea what he normally like, he would have realised there was something off about the way he was behaving lately, too.
But Wesley wasn�t somebody that Lindsey ever had any use for, not somebody that stuck out to him as special or worth his time in any sense, and if he was acting strange, Lindsey sure as hell wouldn�t be able to pick up on it.
Okay, if he could just hurry up and put his shit away, and Fred could hurry the hell up and meet him, and he could keep his head down for just a minute, maybe the bleached blond idiot wouldn�t notice him and he wouldn�t have to put up with any of his retarded conversation. If the bullshit that came out of Spike�s mouth could pass for conversation, that was.
***
Spike was leaning against the locker next to Wesley�s, Tucker Wells� locker, and trying to hide his smirk as the senior walked past, obviously deciding he could do without whatever was in there for the moment, and not bothering to ask Spike to get out of the way. It hadn�t gone well for him the last time he�d suggested that Spike move.
Wesley had been living in Sunnydale since before high school, having moved over with his father after the divorce, and he�d found it an extremely lonely place to be until three years ago. When Spike came over as an exchange student he�d lived with Wesley and his father for their freshman year, his parents happy to pay Mr Wyndham-Pryce for the pleasure of not having their son at home for 9 months.
He�d rented out the basement, and it wasn�t long before life wasn�t quite so lonely anymore for Wesley. Spike (or William as he so disliked to be called) was a hard person to get along with, and Wesley�s friend-making skills left much to be desired, but despite that, they�d seen something in each other that few others were allowed to, and the fact that Wesley had instantly fallen in love with the blond certainly didn�t hurt his motivation to get close to him.
Well, alright, it hadn�t exactly been love. But it was definitely lust. Spike had been gorgeous and Wesley had been a bumbling virgin, having just come out of a sham of a relationship with a girl called Willow (who�d later turned out to be gay herself) and Spike had been the first boy that Wesley had been sexually attracted to. It was a very powerful feeling, the way one felt for their very first object of desire.
Oh, the other boy hadn�t been interested, of course, not that Wesley had actually confessed to his feelings. Spike knew though. He would have had to have been a lot more stupid than people gave him credit for not to know, what with the way Wesley chased after him, made eyes at him, found excuses to touch him, do things for him, and came out to all of his band�s shows, even though he was much more the �Michael Bolton� type than any of Hellmouth�s other fans.
But Spike hadn�t made him feel bad about it. Teased him, sure. Rubbed his nose in it, made quite a sport of flirting, brushing too close to Wesley, working on his beat up old De Sotto on too hot days without a shirt, covered in grease and sweat as he�d gotten Wesley to help him out just so he could show off to the other boy, make him squirm.
But then Wesley had gotten up the courage to ask out Andrew Wells, Tucker�s little brother, and Spike had been happy for them, until Warren had caught Andrew�s eye and he�d dumped Wesley to chase after the little shit. Spike had, of course, beaten the crap out of both of them for hurting Wes, even though Warren wasn�t gay and wouldn�t even think about touching Andrew.
But that�s what friends did, right?
After the school year had ended, Spike decided he liked living in California so much that he wanted to finish high school out in Sunnydale, and his parents were happy to keep on sending him money, and now, by the beginning of their fourth year, it was feeling a lot like home.
�Hey Wes,� Spike said, nodding in the direction behind Wesley and over his shoulder and his expression became knowing, playful. �Here comes your boyfriend.�
�My what?� Wesley asked, confused by the abrupt change of topic from their plans for the weekend, and turned to look behind him, to where Spike was staring.
He quickly turned back around, hoping that Lindsey hadn�t seen him looking, hoping that he didn�t notice the way Spike was unabashedly staring at him, and tried to hide his face behind his locker door. �Spike,� he pleaded, eyes wide. �Please. Just shut up.�
Spike had been teasing him mercilessly for about two months now. Ever since their senior year started and Wesley�s best friend had found out about his crush on the lead singer of Evil Hand.
Lindsey was� Wesley couldn�t help but sigh, just thinking about how and who and what Lindsey was. He was sexy beyond measure, and he was one of the coolest kids in school, and his band was� well, not very good, but it was still a band, and oh, dear God, if he could only date the lead singer of a band�
Not that he was only interested in Lindsey for his popularity. No, it went much deeper than that. He wanted him for his looks, too. That hair of his, that seemed, if you were obtuse enough to believe it, haphazardly tossed across his head and face. Those arms, ridiculously strong, and well muscled for how little he used them. His chest and stomach and back, skin rippling over the muscles when he worked out or played a sport, and Wesley was forever thankful that he�d been put into the same PE class as Lindsey. Even if he knew he looked a fool in front of the object of his desire on more than on occasion, with his utter lack of athletic ability.
It was worth it to watch Lindsey, confidant and happy and showing off just a little, especially when it came to baseball, because he really was quite good. Damn but he was something.
And sure, Wesley didn�t know Lindsey very well. They might have said a total of one hundred words to each other over the course of their entire acquaintance, but he just knew they would get along famously. If the other boy ever bothered to look at him, that was.
Not that Wesley would know what to do with himself if he ever did Lindsey�s attention. He was becoming increasingly shy and flustered whenever the other boy was around, and considering how awkward he�d been before he�d developed the mother of all crushes, it was safe to say that it was getting a little ridiculous.
�Hey Lindsey,� Spike said, eyes twinkling and lips twisted in a smirk.
Shit, Lindsey thought. There goes the avoiding the jack-ass plan. He looked up from his locker, barely sparing Spike a glance and mumbled, �hey,� before turning around and pretending to be very interested in his Economics text book.
He would have loved to have just ignored Spike and left, but he was waiting for his girlfriend, and it would be pretty shitty of him not to respond to someone and then keep on standing there, letting them know that you were too good to waste your voice on them. Even if that someone was Spike.
Spike didn�t look away when Lindsey did though. His grin broadened and he looked the Texan up and down, slowly.
�Spike!� Wesley whispered admonishingly as he kicked out his foot to connect with the steel toe of Spike�s boot.
Spike ignored him. �Are those new jeans?� he asked, smiling wide and innocent when Lindsey looked up at him again, expression puzzled.
�Uh,� Lindsey said. �Yeah, I guess.� He screwed up his face and turned away again, wondering what the fuck Spike cared about his pants. He snuck a glance down at his legs over the edge of his book. They were pretty fuckin� cool though. Showed off his assets.
�They�re really� nice, aren�t they Wes? Nice?� Spike was looking at Wesley now, enjoying his friend�s discomfort much more than he probably should have been.
�Spike,� Wesley said under his breath, colour rising in his cheeks. �I swear to God��
Oh, Wesley was so much fun when he got all worked up like this. �Yeah, I�m pretty sure Wes thinks they�re nice.� Wesley was going to kill him, but it was completely worth it. �Don�t you, Wes?�
What the hell was Wesley supposed to say? He snuck a quick glance toward Lindsey and then looked back to Spike. The bastard was still smiling. �Yes, I� I suppose so,� he answered, and he would have run very far, very fast if he didn�t think it would make him look even stupider.
�Oh yeah. Wesley reaaaally likes them,� he confirmed, leaning closer to Wesley to tease out the extended vowel into his ear.
�Whatever,� Lindsey said rolling his eyes. He gave up on pretending to read and stuffed his book into his locker, slamming the door shut. �Freak,� he mumbled, and he thought he heard Spike chuckle. There was something seriously wrong with that boy.
�Hey Lindsey!� a bubbly voice said from behind him, and he sighed in relief, turning around and kissing the owner of the voice swiftly and forcefully on the mouth.
�Thank fuck,� he said, grabbing her by the hand. �Let�s get out of here, baby.�
�Sure,� she smiled and leaned in close to murmur in his ear. �Mama and Daddy won�t be home until late tonight, so we can go to my place. You know,� she blushed �if you wanted.�
Holy fuck did her ever want! If they had several hours with no interruptions he might even be able to get past second base. �Sure, babe. Sounds perfect.� He kissed her once more on the cheek and gave her arm a tug to get them moving.
�Oh, hey Spike! Wes!� she chirped brightly as they began walking and she noticed the two boys standing nearby. They were nice guys, and Fred really like them, even if they didn�t really hang out all that much. But Fred liked just about everyone, and besides, Spike was really cute. If she wasn�t already spoken for she wouldn�t have minded trying him out.
�Fred,� Wesley smiled, suddenly at ease. Winifred had that effect on people. �How are you?�
�Oh, I�m fine, thanks!� she said.
�Fred,� Spike greeted, in a decidedly more lascivious manner than Wesley had. He raised an appreciative eyebrow and let his gaze travel up and down her body without shame. �You�re looking smashing today, luv.�
She giggled and shuffled her feet, fingers playing over the hem of her mini-skirt. �Oh, stop it, you!� she mock-scolded.
She looked up when she felt Lindsey�s hand on her back, rubbing impatient circles to get her attention. She flashed him an apologetic smile before quickly turning back to Wesley and Spike. �Bye guys!� she said, waving. �Was nice seeing y�all.�
As they walked away Lindsey shot Spike a look that clearly implied that if he kept on looking at his girlfriend like that, he�d wind up on the business end of a set of brass knuckles. Spike rolled his eyes at the former Texan and help up two very proud fingers, clearly implying that he wasn�t in the least arsed about what Lindsey thought about anything.
�You are a complete and utter asshole!� Wesley whispered loudly, smacking Spike on the arm and scowling. �What the hell was that all about?�
�What?� Spike asked, mouth open wide, as if he didn�t know exactly what Wesley was so upset about. �Was only making friendly conversation with your future husband.�
�No,� Wesley said, expression deadly.
Shit, Spike thought, eyes dropping a bit and losing some of their mischievousness. Maybe he�d gone a little far, but he was only joking around, and hadn�t meant to hurt Wesley�s feelings.
�You were being a jerk. Christ, Spike he probably thinks I�m an idiot now!�
Spike thought it was probably kinder not to tell Wesley that he was wrong; Lindsey probably didn�t think anything about him at all, but he had to say something.
�Wes,� Spike said, turning serious. �It�s never going to happen, you and him. You know that, right? He�s not gay, and even if he was, I don�t think you�re his type.�
�I do know that, Spike,� Wesley said, looking deflated. �I�m not entirely na�ve. Nor am I in any sort of control over the way I feel. Emotions aren�t logical, Spike.� He stopped and looked up at his friend, smiling playfully and self-deprecatingly. �Neither is the way my pants seem to feel at least a size too small whenever he bends over for any reason.�
Spike snorted and shook his head. �You�ll find someone, Wes,� he told him. �Someone a lot better than that shithead.� And a lot better than Andrew, he thought, but didn�t say.
His eyes flickered briefly over the open locker door behind Wesley�s head, and to the small, black and white photo of Wesley and his ex-boyfriend that was almost hidden between his class schedule and some funky picture of weird crystal shite out of the latest Scientific American.
They were still friends, Spike knew, or at least pretending to be, but Wes was the delicate sort, and Spike didn�t think he was entirely over the hurt yet. And any sort of hanging on was just unhealthy.
Wesley looked at Spike and thought briefly that he had long ago found someone who was better than either of the other boys, but those silly notions had disappeared, replaced by the very best of friendships, and he wouldn�t have it any other way.
�Yes, well,� he said, trying to lighten the mood. �Until then� Father�s away for the weekend, so if you like, we can invite your band over, crank the amp up to 11, and drink beer until we think you and your friends actually have talent.�
�Smart ass,� Spike groused and bumped his shoulder into Wesley�s, smiling when the other boy stumbled back.
Wesley smiled too, shutting his locker, and the two headed home.

TBC
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Fast Times at Sunnydale High