reality_bends | Supposedly *not* talking about you-know-who

Grateful that he hadn't been drinking anything himself at that moment because he most surely would have choked, Wesley tried to think of a way to avoid that particular conversation. "I'm sure you can make some accurate guesses," he said, then tried desperately not to blush as he realized how that might come across.

Spike laughed and leaned back more comfortably in his chair. "Oh, pet, with you blushing like that I think I've got to hear some stories."

Wesley covered his face with one hand. "You're going to milk this for all it's worth, aren't you."

"Seems like it," Spike said, grinning.

Wesley sighed. "And would you prefer to hear about exploits with my fellow students, or with the masters?"

Raising his eyebrow, Spike grinned even more widely. "Whatever you want to tell me," he said. "And probably some you don't."

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know," Wesley bargained. "If you'll tell me what I want to know."

"I wasn't Head Boy," Spike said, but his grin faded.

Not wanting to lose the mood they'd established, Wesley decided that he'd continue as if Spike had agreed and worry about the rest later. "I was fifteen the first time I was... with another boy," he started, feeling the blush receding a bit. "Well, he was two years older, so I suppose calling him a 'boy' is something that could be argued against."

"Did he make the first move or did you?" Spike asked, reminding himself that though he had been far less experienced as a human he had more than made up for it as a vampire.

Wesley considered the question. "In retrospect, I think it would have been fair of him to think that I did, although at the time it hadn't crossed my mind. Until he touched me, I had no reason to believe that I was interested in men -- my fantasies, when I allowed them, seemed to revolve around women. I suppose a case could have been made for the theory that I was repressing my true desires, but it genuinely hadn't occurred to me on any sort of a conscious level."

Spike finished off his blood, realizing that he was going to need to be more sober to follow Wesley's speech patterns. "So what happened?"

"I followed him around like an eager pup for a few weeks, anxious to assist him if it meant he'd give me some positive attention, and after a couple of fortnights he decided that the best way for me to assist him would be in... relieving his sexual tension." Wesley shrugged slightly, as if it had been nothing, although at the time he'd only gone along with it because it seemed the only thing to do.

"Yeah, I've been to public school. Happened a lot in my day," Spike said, watching Wesley more seriously. "But you found you liked it?"

"Eventually. At first I was just... surprised. But yes, obviously I liked it." Wesley smiled reassuringly. "And when he turned his attention to someone new, there was a whole school full of other boys -- and some men -- who were just as willing to experiment. I suppose it's not referred to as 'getting an education' for nothing."

"It was good, then? The experimenting?" Spike asked.

"For the most part. As I'm sure you're well aware, one's own hand is rarely as stimulating as someone else's." Wesley thought back, trying to recall a specific incident that Spike might like to hear about, even though just thinking about it started that flushed feeling in his cheeks again. "I had a brief but highly passionate relationship with the Latin Master."

Spike's grin re-emerged. "Have a thing for older men, do you?"

"So it would seem," Wesley said, returning the grin. "We had many afternoon encounters under the guise of private tutoring. Used most of the pieces of furniture in his office, if I recall correctly."

"Come on, pet. You've got to tell me more than that," Spike said, ignoring the slight sting of jealousy in his chest. "Why did you want him? How did he touch you?"

Wesley shifted slightly against the countertop. "I suppose I wanted him because he was bright, and kind. And because he had a fondness for telling me how intelligent I was, which I certainly wasn't going to complain about." He blushed a bit more. "He liked to have me sit on his lap, which we both clearly recognized I was far too old to do."

"And you liked it, too?" Making a mental note to praise Wesley's intelligence more frequently, Spike tried not to grin too broadly at how appealing Wesley was when he was blushing.

"Was embarrassed by it certainly, but I suppose I liked it as well. Or at least I liked what followed." Wesley had extremely vivid memories of being fucked in that desk chair, on the Latin Master's lap, and of the deep marks his fingerprints had made in the leather edges of the desk blotter. "I liked it when he fucked me."

That statement brought forth another definite twinge of jealousy, which Spike dismissed as an irrational by-product of his intoxication. "Did you ever fuck him? Did you want to?"

Almost ashamed, Wesley realized that in a few moments he was going to have an even more embarrassing problem become obvious. He moved casually across the kitchen and sat down opposite Spike, where at least the table afforded him a bit of privacy, before answering. "No, I never did. And again, I don't think it ever occurred to me to want to."

"Not all relationships go both ways, and sometimes it's better when they don't," Spike said, attempting to hide his smile at Wesley's fairly transparent reason for wanting to sit. He stretched out his legs under the table and asked, "So when did you fuck someone? Did you teach one of the younger boys what you had been taught?"

Wesley shook his head. "No -- it was a boy from my same year actually. He was... rather versatile. Sometimes I fucked him, sometimes he fucked me... we were friends. Or possibly even less that that," he admitted ruefully.

"Surprised you had any time for your school work with all of the other stuff you were doing," Spike said with a grin. "Though you probably didn't need much time for your homework." He pushed his empty mug a few inches further toward the middle of the table. "Tell me about when it stopped being just experimentation. When did it get serious for you?"

"When did being with another man become a serious prospect?" Wesley asked, needing clarification.

"Yes," Spike said. "When were there feelings involved instead of just hormones?"

Wesley looked up from the table's surface to meet Spike's eyes. "With you."

Stunned, Spike could only stare at Wesley. "I... But you..."

"But I'd clearly been with many men before? That's true enough. Most of them either one night stands or over a decade ago, and none of them as important to me as you've become." Wesley glanced back down at the table, wondering if this was another of those situations where he'd revealed too much.

Spike slid his left leg in so that it was touching Wesley's under the table. "What about women, then?" he asked. It was a subject they hadn't really discussed, but Spike was curious about the feelings Wesley had admitted having for Fred and how they fit into everything.

Comforted by the touch, Wesley said, "That's where the bulk of my experience lies, limited though it is. I've had everything from brief flings, to things that I hoped would become more serious but didn't, to... relationships," he struggled slightly with the word, tainted as it was by Lilah's memory, "that I knew couldn't go anywhere, as much as part of me might have liked them to."

"And now you've got me." Spike still wasn't quite sure why Wesley wanted him after all that.

Wesley rubbed his thumb over the back of his opposite hand. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"What? No. Of course not," Spike said firmly.

"But you're disturbed by the thought that I haven't had more than fleeting relationships with other men," Wesley said, discovering a callous on the side of his thumb that might have been new.

"When did I say that?" Spike took a moment to replay the conversation in his head. It was a bit jumbled, but he was fairly certain about what he had and had not said. "No, I was curious... and surprised you'd pick me to be serious with when you hadn't anyone else."

"It's not always a matter of choice," Wesley said. "That aside... I want to be with you. That's one of the few things I'm certain of."

Spike rubbed his leg against Wesley's. "Good. I know I want to be with you, too. Things are a lot easier when both people agree on that."

"Is this what easy feels like?" Wesley asked wryly.

"I said easier, not easy," Spike pointed out.

Continues here (http://www.livejournal.com/community/reality_bends/24636.html).

Supposedly *not* talking about you-know-who

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Supposedly not talking about you-know-who