*****

Oz slowly drifted awake. He didn't feel like opening his eyes yet, he never did first thing in the morning. The nice sleepy drift was preferable. There was one problem with the drift this time. Parts of him were stiff and cold, laying on a surface much harder than the sleeping bag in the back of the van. The other parts were warm and snuggly. With arms around him and lips pressed to his. Okay, not so bad after all.

He sighed and cuddled closer, slowly working the lips on his open. Not bad at all, waking up kissing. Wait a sec. Who? What? His eyes flew open. "Dev?"

Kissing? Devon shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Kissing stopped. Why had the kissing stopped? Kissing lead to the morning wake up sex. A little kiss and a cuddle... Unless it was a groupie. No, those got kicked out after sex. Rule no. 1: Never let a groupie stay the night, or the 'but we have something special' crap kicked in.

But it couldn't be a groupie, cause he had never broke that rule, not even when trippin' his balls off. But he hadn't had a steady... uhm, in a long time. So who? Sounded like Oz. And wasn't that beyond the wall of weird. Oz was gone. Just upped and left. Oh, he got it now. It was a dream. One of those freaky partied way too much kinda dreams.

Devon snuggled in closer, nuzzling the skin of the other man's throat. "Hmmmmmmmmmm?"

Goosebumps raced along Oz's skin and not just from Devon's attentions. He looked around as much as he could trapped in the other man's embrace. White. Nothing but white. White walls, white floors, white ceiling all in an unappealing box formation. Oz started to shudder. This was. not good. The last time he was someplace like this.

He sat up, pulling Devon with him. The how and when and why Devon of it all could wait. "Devon? Wake up now. We are in the land of not good here."

"No. All good." Devon mumbled and buried his head tightly into the crook of Oz's shoulder. Waking up meant Oz would be gone again. Waking up would suck. He wasn't gonna do it. He didn't have to if he didn't want to, so there. "No."

Oz sighed. Trust Devon to be the world's crabbiest morning person. If it was morning. Come to think of it, Devon hardly ever did mornings anyway. Oz shook his head, re-railing his train of thought. There were two ways to wake Devon up quickly and Oz didn't have any ice. Leaning in close, he bit one of Devon's earlobes sharply. Not an ounce of sex in the move at all, just a short sharp pain to his royal me-ness' body.

"Now, Dev." He growled, pushing the taller man off him.

"Shit, Oz!" Devon yelped, rolling onto his back. He grabbed his earlobe and grumbled, "Why the fuck did you do that?! Shit, you made me bleed didn't you? I just know it. Now I'll have a swollen ear. Probably turn green and fall off. I'll be missing an ear. Mutilated. I'll have to keep my hair long just to hide it, fucker."

Now truly awake and bordering on truly pissed, Devon caught his first glimpse of their surrounding. White on white. No doors. No windows. Nothing. "Woah..."

Oz nodded. "Woah is good." He sniffed the air. Nothing. Just Devon and him. "No blood by the way. No Van Gogh for you. "

He scooted to Devon's side and just pressed the small of his back against his friend. Arms wrapped around his knees, Oz tried desperately not to rock. He settled for mild shudders instead. He could handle this. This was old hat to him. Everything was going to be fine. Not realizing, his small body began to rock.

"Van who? Oh the new lead singer for Josephine's Ocean right? Huh, didn't know he was minus a lobe." Devon asked absently as he continued to look around. Not that there was much to see. Just white and more white. He slid his arm around the smaller man reflexively. "Oz, man, I'm still dreaming right? Cause like there's no door."

Oz shook his head. "No dream, no door." He muttered. He had to get a grip. Twisting around, he faced Devon, *concentrated* on Devon. If he didn't he was going to fly into a million pieces, none of them pretty, several of the furry. One hand went to the spot on Devon's chest where he could feel the heartbeat, the other tangled into one of Devon's. "Where were you before you woke up here?"

"I was asleep, moron!" Devon's eyes narrowed, "And if it's not a dream. I sooooooooo owe you an ass-kicking."

Oz sighed. "Devon, as hard as it may be for you to get this, I need you right now. We figure this out and I'll gladly stand still for that ass kicking." Oz let go of Devon and raked his hair. Only Devon Macleish made him talk so much. "Where were you asleep? `Cuz I was in the van. In New Mexico."

"Oh *you* need me... That's fuckin' rich! I need *you* and you fuckin' vanish! " Devon jumped to his feet and stalked to other side of the small room. "But hey, *you* need me, so it's all okay. You fuckin' vanished man!"

Oz's mouth worked as he tried to process everything. Devon needed him? When? And why was this coming up now? They were stuck somewhere, probably by some new messed up Initiative and Devon was ranting about need? Him?

Oz looked around more, like the words he needed would be scrawled on the white walls. How had those bastards known to grab Devon anyway? How long would they let them stew in here? How long before it... started again? ~Get a grip. You need a grip. Take the refuge Devon's offering. Let him rant, let yourself get lost in it. If you don't...~ He wasn't going to think about that.

"Dev... I... you know why I had to go. Guitarists are a dime a dozen. Replacing me would not have been hard, man." Oz compulsively fiddled with his necklaces, trying to be calm.

"Know? What the fuck did I know?! One day it's all cool. Next day, you don't show for practice!" Devon kicked the white wall next to him. Turning, he slid down the wall, sitting opposite the smaller man. Devon's voice dropped to a whisper, "I'm thinking you joined the mystery missing of Sunnydale. You didn't even tell me, man. Your chick wouldn't talk to me. Just cry. I thought... Fuck. Xander finally clued me in..." He looked around morosely as the anger draining out of him, "Oz, I'm not tripping am I? Where the fuck are we?"

"I don't know. I hope it's not where or who I think." Oz scooted back against his wall. "I... fuck man, I tried to tell you. The werewolf part. You just gave me the Devon Special `Oh hey, sure. Got more of that?'. " He shook his head. "Sorta let it go. Figured you'd ask or.." He shrugged. "Do what you did. Ignore it until it affected you."

There wasn't any malice in Oz's voice. He had long ago given up on forcing things on Devon. He'd see what he wanted to and it worked for him. Teflon skin, Teflon feelings.

"Oz? What the hell are you talking about?!" Devon looked at him confused. His handsome face scrunched up trying to make the dots connect. "Make some sense, man."

Oz sighed. "Okay. We do this again. I am a werewolf. I spent three nights a month my second senior year in high school and most of my freshmen year of college locked in a cage. That's part of why I missed so much practice. I left because I fucked up. I cheated on Willow with another damn werewolf. It... showed me I had to get a lot of stuff together. Went to Mexico, Tibet, all sorts of places. I know I sent postcards. I..." His voice cracked a bit and he wished he had some water. Long speeches weren't his forte.

"I came back once. Tried to kill Willow's girlfriend. Didn't have the control I wanted. Also got grabbed by some government goons. They... they fucking tortured me." He stood and turned to the wall. "So I left again." One fist slammed into the unforgiving white surface. "And I think they're doing it again..." Laying his head on the cool tile, Oz started shaking again. "Don't want to change..." He whispered. "Please just stop..."

"Oz?" Devon asked uncertainly.

Oz was loosing his cool. Oz never lost his cool. It had always been the one thing he could count on. Oz's calm. His cool. If Oz lost it, what was Devon gonna do? What could he do? He got up and tentatively placed a hand on his friends shoulder.

"Oz, man? Chill okay, man? It's not... It's... Oz, I fucking suck at this, okay? Just chill, please." He rubbed at the smaller man's shoulder. "Oz?"

"Sorry, Dev." Oz said, eyes closed. He could not freak out on Devon. He could not get fuzzy and out of control. "M'sorry about not making sure you understood me. M'sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving."

"Well, yeah. You should be fuckin' sorry." As harsh as the words were, the tone wasn't. Devon cracked a small smile, and kept rubbing Oz's shoulder. "Werewolf huh? Damn Oz, how long have we know each other? You know better than to try to tell me anything important when I'm stoned. I mean come on... Remember bat country?! You had me freaked out about Samoans for weeks. Some of the shit you've tried to feed me? How I'm suppose to know the diff huh?"

A weak smile crossed Oz's face. "Well I kinda can't tell when you're stoned or not anymore. Prodigious amounts of pot, however, would be welcome right about now."

He opened his eyes and turned to his oldest friend. "Missed you." He wrapped his arms around Devon's waist and hugged him.

"No shit. I so wish I was stoned now," Devon said, wrapping his arms around Oz in return. "Missed you to, asshole. Don't fucking disappear on me 'gain, okay?"

"Won't. Still not sure how we got here anyway." Oz looked up at Devon. "So again with the where were you? New Mexico me, Sunnydale you?" He didn't let go of his friend, for once not minding being smaller.

Brow furrowing in thought, Devon absent mindly stoked Oz' hair. "Uhm... Let me see, it was Wednesday? I think I remember Wednesday. NO! It was Thursday! 'Cause we we're over at Kev's... he just got his check."

A smile of wonder broke out over his face and stepping away from Oz, Devon began to frantically search through his leather jacket. "Yes! Ask and ye shall get stoned..." Devon waggled his eyebrows a couple of times and dangled the holy baggie in front of Oz.

Oz smiled, really smiled, at last. "You are a miracle of predictability, Devon. Roll one and let the calming begin."

"Hey dude! You know the drill. Kev get's his check... Everybody get's some." Devon sunk to the floor against the wall, sitting indian style, and started rolling. Over the years, he had perfected the art of rolling a class A joint, quickly. Not too loose. Not too tight. He held out the first offering to Oz with his lighter, "Spark it, dude, while I roll some backups."

Oz grinned. If this was an Initiative base, they had been sloppy. Neither he nor Devon had been searched or stripped. And right now, that was perfect. Sliding to the floor, he lit and inhaled deeply, savoring the sticky sweet taste. It had been a long, dry time. As he watched the smoke slowly trail out of his nostrils, he grinned more, lips pressed closed. He could almost imagine this was the back of the van, parked somewhere in Sunnydale. Only thing lacking were tunes.

"'Ere..." He squeaked out and passed the lit joint back to Devon.

"Half a sec, dude." Devon quickly finished the joint in progress. He put it down, and gingerly took the lit one. Two minutes later, he was slowly releasing his breath, and handing off. The sweet burn in his lungs familiar and soothing. "Oh man..."

"In one." Oz nodded as he took another hit. He could already feel the pleasant buzz in the back of his brain. "Good shit. As always, thanks Kev."

He cocked his head and gave Devon a lazy smile. He still wondered why in the Hell they were here, he just... couldn't... no... didn't want to think about it right now. He just wanted to sit here, smoke dope and be with Devon. A blast from the past. He scooted closer, until he could get into his favorite smoking position; sprawled out, head on Devon's thigh, looking up at the singer's face. "That's better."

Devon took the handed off joint, and took a hit. He held the smoke until his lungs began to burn, then exhaled slowly. "Fucker," he said as he passed the joint. A small smile on his face, he ran his hand through his guitarist's hair. Oz was his guitarist, and would always be his guitarist. He frowned, "You didn't even call me, man."

Oz took his last hit... for now. "I know." He rubbed his head along Devon's thigh. The hand in his hair felt damn good. "Wasn't near a lot of phones most times. But yeah I'll own up to `fucker'."

He peered up into Devon's blue eyes. Even starting to glaze they were what Oz needed. As he handed the joint back, he let his hand drift to Devon's cheek, running the back of his nails along the slight stubble. Yep, he was all sensory now.

Smiling and shaking his head, Devon took a double hit. It always amused the hell out of Devon how the normally self contained Oz got so touchy feely when he was stoned. Devon's smile grew lazily, and his hand kept running through Oz's hair. "So dude... Werewolf? Fact or bullshit?"

"Fact." Oz said. He picked up a couple of his necklaces off his chest. "Got Tibetan charms, a tattoo and, like, tons of chants to help keep me non-fuzzy. It's... all funky messed up, man." He shrugged, letting the charms fall. "Sunnydale, weirder than weird."

"Huh," Devon's hand slipped from the other man's hair to play with the necklaces, fingering the charms. His grin grew as he focused, "Shiny. This one.." he picked up a silvery charm, "S'cool." Taking another hit, he let the charm and his hand fall back to Oz's chest. Exhaling, his brow furrowed slightly, "Huh. How's someone get to be a wolf-boy anyway?"

Oz rested his hand on Devon's. "You get bit by one. Hard enough to break skin. Next full moon, boom, you're where the wild things are." He cocked his head to the side, watching the smoke drift.

"What you asked some furry chick if she wanted a bite, and she bit you?" Devon started cracking up.

Oz laughed, poking Devon in the leg. "No, you jerk. My little cousin. Babysat him once and he totally bit me. Pre-schoolers bite hard."

"Jordy?" Devon laughed a little harder. "Freaks and flakes, man. Your whole family's freak and flakes. Dude, the ankle biter was the only sorta normal one... Damn, like bust my illusions." He chuckled again and then examined the joint critically. It had maybe one more hit on it before it was charred fingers time.

"Consider them busted." Oz grinned. "So me, freak or flake? Eh, stick with flake." He saw the joint examination. "That enough for a shotgun?"

"Yeah. Just enough." Devon took the joint and took a massive hit, killing the joint.

He held it in long enough to make himself slightly dizzy, then leaned over Oz stroking the other man's cheek. Oz immediately parted his lips and opened his mouth, as Devon leaned a little closer, almost touching his lips to the other man's, and exhaled slowly.

Inhaling deeply, Oz took in the slow stream of smoke. As it filled his lungs, he pushed up, drawing in more... And there they were, lip to lip if slightly upside down. Barely thinking and not totally caring, Oz pressed the kiss closer. Lightly flicking the end of his tongue on Devon's bottom lip. Slowly, carefully, deliberately, not wanting to spook his friend.

Devon stiffened slightly and pulled away, confused more than anything else. He prided himself on being pretty debauched even for his tender age... Lead singer of *the* band in Sunnydale. Dropout hero to the kids... Groupie king. Years of cool and the fact he was completely stoned came to his aid, he didn't squeak. He didn't push Oz off his lap. He just looked at his friend quizzically and calmly asked, "Dude? Did you just kiss me?"

"Um, yeah." Oz said, letting the collected smoke drift out of his mouth and nose. "You mind?" One eyebrow twitched up as Oz continued peering at Devon.

"Dunno," Devon looked at him still confused. "Really didn't expect you to say you did..." He let himself sag back against the wall they were sitting next to... "Dude, that's kinda gay... You know that right?"

"Again I go with um, yeah." Oz sat up. "I'm kinda gay. But hey, no biggie. I'll stop." He shrugged.

He didn't want to, needing the connection, but he would. Devon had been his friend the longest and, somehow, the progression seemed natural to Oz. Maybe it wasn't, but so many days in the van, laying on each other in a stoned heap. The times they watched movies, shoulder to shoulder or someone's head in the other's lap. The times they spent the night, again in a heap until morning. "But hey, we woke up kissing."

"Huh," Devon muttered.

It made sense, kinda. Ever since he had know Oz, girls had thrown themselves at the smaller man. Okay, yeah... sometimes it was to get to Devon, but still there had been a few that had seriously stalked the guitarist. A couple of them even worthy to Devon's standards, and Oz had never taken them up on their offers. Never bed and fled.

"Okay, how come I didn't know this? Why didn't you tell me?" Devon snorted as a thought occurred to him . "Help. Help. I'm locked up with a gay werewolf!" He giggled, "Dude, do you like turn pink by light of the full moon?"

Oz punched Devon lightly on the arm. "Only when my hair's that color." He slumped next to Devon, putting his back on the wall. "I just... realized it. I mean not just now, but while I was roaming. I likes `em all. And that's bi werewolf, you jerk." He nudged Devon with his shoulder.

"Jerk? Me? Don't think so, Dude." Devon ticked points off on his fingers slowly, "You left. You never called. You kissed me. Called me a jerk... Wait, *you* are every chick I've ever dated..." Devon giggled madly and sagged against his friend. "Or maybe *I'm* every chick I've ever dated..."

"When it comes to chicks, you are so the non-call guy." Oz said, ruffling Devon's hair. "Think I acted more like you. No calls, up and left, kiss and run." Oz ticked his own points off. "Anyway, and here I go again, sorry. No more kissing. I just... ah anyway. Oh hey, I apologize way more. No chick you dated ever did that."

He looked around the room. Nope, still hadn't changed. No door had magically appeared, no soldiers either.

"Yeah, I guess. My last lady called me scum..." Devon pursed his lips, "And that was the nice part." He shook his head, and then smiled suddenly. "Oh man..." rummaging through his pockets, he produced another baggie, "I can't believe I almost forgot. Hang with Kev and what else do you get?" He offered the bag to Oz, "want some?"

Oz's eyes lit up. Kevin's grandmother's cookies, chocolate chip and slightly chewy. The perfect after bake munchie. "Shoulda given her a cookie." He got one out of the bag and started nibbling. "And you're not scum. Self-centered, egomaniacal, and whiney, but not scum."

God, how many times had they had this conversation or it's variant? Devon got wounded by the girl he'd ignored, then he whined about it. That was always Oz's cue to break out the dope... ok reversed this time... and needle Devon until he forgot about the her-of-the-week. No yelling, no anger, and maybe a few arm thumps.

"I'm not whiney..." Devon whined, and chewed on his cookie. "I'm just misunderstood." He looked at Oz and Oz looked at him, and they both broke out laughing. "Shuttup... Buttmonkey."

Playfully shoving Oz with his shoulder, Devon smiled as he finished off his cookie. God, he loved Kev's gran's cookies. Not wanting to waste a scrap, he licked the crumbs from his fingers carefully. "Finger licking good," he murmured.

"Dev.. can we switch to PC maybe?" Oz sighed.

Razzing he expected, he'd just hoped if he ever came out of the closet Dev might grow up some. Then again, this was Devon. He shook his head, a crooked grin on his face and turned to say... And forgot what it was. Devon *had* to know what he looked like, licking his fingers like that. He always used his appearance to it's advantage. Swallowing heavily, and fairly sure he'd lost his mind, Oz reached out and took Devon's hand.

"Missed one." He whispered and drew Devon's pinkie into his mouth.

*****
Part 2:

"Oz?" Devon's voice came out in a strangled whisper.

Okay, this was a little beyond the usual stoned Oz touchy feely. Oz was sucking his finger... Sucking his finger and doing things with his tongue that no chick, no groupie, had ever taken the time to do. It was sexy. Sexy in a way that made Devon excited and uncomfortable at the same time. It was Oz. Oz his oldest friend. The one person who put up with his bull and yet never bought into it. His only *real* friend.

"Dude.... Oz," Devon cleared his throat and tried to joke, "You know, you *can* have another cookie?"

Oz nodded and let go of Devon's finger. "Don't want another cookie. I sorta just... want to kiss you more."

He felt his face getting red and he looked down. Great, he was worrying about freaking out and here he was probably freaking out Devon instead. But the prickles of nerves were coming back and Devon just looked so... damn hot all confused like that. So Oz leaned in and kissed him again. A small peck at first. Then he pulled back, looked at Devon's slightly open mouth and dove back in. His hands threaded up into Devon's messy hair... thank God he'd let it grow again... and he worked the startled singer's mouth further open with his.

Devon wasn't sure which shocked him more, the fact that Oz was kissing him again or the fact that he wasn't freaking out more. ~Thank God, I'm stoned!~ His body was too relaxed to freak, and he had to admit even if Oz was a guy, he was a pretty good kisser. It was passionate and a little desperate. The desperate part worried Devon more at the moment than the fact Oz was a guy. Oz was never desperate, and for him to act that way was bad. Very bad. But he couldn't push Oz away. He just couldn't... his hands wouldn't do it. It felt too good, and wasn't Devon all for things that felt good? Even if Oz was a guy. And his best friend. And this was wrong. ~Holy shit! Tongue! What the hell do I do now?~

Oz kissed Devon a little longer and realized his friend was just... sort of kissing back. He pulled back again and searched Devon's eyes. Half lidded, shocked and very stoned. ~Fuck, I am messing this up. If he wasn't baked to the gills he'd be freaking. Probably shove me off and...~ He stopped that train of thought. They had never come to blows, even at their roughest moments and he was sure even this wouldn't do it. He hoped. Problem was, he wanted to keep kissing Devon. Maybe even ask for something else. Maybe. He just didn't know if he could get across to the stoned singer how much he was needed.

"Hey... um. Can I... do this more?" Oz asked softly, nervously.

"Uh," Devon took a moment to breathe. First there was kissing. Then Oz said no more kissing. Then there was more kissing.

"Oz, what's going on here? I mean when did I get irresistible.. I mean to you?" Devon looked at him, fuddled and confused. He had to admit the kissing was nice. Better than nice. And that was just wrong... wasn't it? He shook his head trying to clear it some. "Oz?"

Oz let go and pulled himself up tight, knees to chin, arms around knees. "You've sorta always been, I guess. Didn't want to go there before... girls, Willow, y'know." He shrugged a bit. "I just... need you. And I never realized it until now. You are the only person I've never freaked around. Ever. Not even after I started changing." He turned his head to look at Devon, fear shadowing his eyes. "Can we just do this right now? I sorta need to. I really don't want to start with the freaking."

"Freaking... would be bad," Devon said, trying keep his cool. Oz *needed* him? Really needed him? He stared at his best friend, seeing the fear. Seeing just how close to edge Oz was tipping. And found himself nodding, "Okay, I'm rock and roll... I can do this..." Uncertainly, he held his arms open.

Oz flowed into those arms, relieved. He pressed his face to Devon's chest and hugged him close. "Yeah you are. Very rock n' roll."

A light kiss was pressed to Devon's lips. Slow, Oz's brain screamed. Now, his instinct screamed back. Deciding instinct was right this time, Oz leaned in and nuzzled Devon's neck. Slowly he licked a path up the muscle, along Devon's jaw and lips.

"Need you pretty damn bad." He whispered and crawled the rest of the way into the taller man's lap.

"Oh damn, Oz..." Devon found himself tipping his head back.

That licking chewing thing Oz was doing was so hot, and the smaller man fit into his lap just perfectly. And it just felt so good and so right. He trembled slightly as he wrapped his arms around Oz, his Oz, and didn't that phrase take on a suddenly new and slightly weird meaning. And maybe gay or bi wasn't such a bad thing. Not if it got Devon the licking chewing thing. Or was it just Oz? He wasn't sure that he would even think about letting something like this happen with anybody else. Devon exhaled softly, and ran his hands soothingly down Oz's back and held him lightly.

"Oz, you're like, way too good at that dude. Skilled. And I don't wanna know do I?" Devon looked into bright, too bright, emerald eyes. "You got the greenest eyes. Like new spring." Devon snapped his mouth shut, wondering where the hell that had come from...

Oz smiled shyly. "Thanks."

Thanks for the compliment, thanks for the acquiescence, thanks for everything he wanted to say but he was pretty much tapped out of words. He could feel the tremors though Devon, through his arms and hands. ~They probably match mine and how far are you going to take this, Oz?~

His body answered his brain, trying to shut it up for once, and took another deep, slow kiss. Licking around every part of Devon's mouth, tasting deep, sliding hands back into the tangle of dark hair. Rocking slightly, slow like the kiss, settling his body closer, deeper into Devon's lap.

Suddenly, it didn't seem to matter where Oz had learned to kiss like that, as long as he kissed Devon. Devon kissed him back. Taking when Oz gave. Giving when Oz took. Their bodies wrapped around each other and swaying to the bass line of their heartbeats, gentle and steady. It was music. And that shocked Devon most of all, because he had never had anything like this before.

They flowed together like the perfect song. All the love songs he ever sung made more sense now. It was ice and fire. It was blood and flesh. It *was* hearts and flowers. And didn't that just beat the fuck out of everything. Devon laughed into the kiss and shifted his hands to support the man in his lap. The man who was rubbing against him and getting him hard. His Oz.

Unselfconscious laughter. Oz loved that, loved Devon's. Deep and rumbly, vibrating through both chests. Which only made Oz want to touch Devon's chest. Breaking the kiss with a nip, Oz pushed back and looked. Too many damn clothes of course. Leather jacket, a muted paisley button up that looked familiar and a t-shirt. Lots of things between Oz and Devon's chest.

"Hn. Clothes horse." He grumbled good-naturedly and slid one hand under the t-shirt.

Letting it rub gently, feeling the still decent lines of Devon's torso, Oz leaned back to nibble on that sensitive neck. A glimmer of silver stopped him. Shit. How had he missed that before? Cocking his head he realized it hadn't bothered him. Wasn't going to. Maybe it was stainless steel then, wreathing Devon's slightly arched neck. Letting his hand get back to it's slow massage, he dipped in and gnawed a bit on the chain before going back to Devon's neck. A slow rise under his ass let him know he was doing something right.

"Oh fuck, Oz!" Devon groaned, and arched slightly pressing himself against Oz, and into Oz's hands.

Oz's tiny little hands. He'd given the other man loads of grief over the years about his hands. His dainty girly hands. His slender wicked strong hands. Hands that were getting him hotter and harder faster than Devon had been in a long time.

This time? This time Devon slid his hands into Oz's hair, forcing the smaller man's head back. This time Devon initiated the kiss, which a passion that surprised himself. This time he mentally flipped off the annoying "this is wrong" voice, and let himself taste Oz. Taste Oz's mouth. Taste Oz's skin. Give a go at that chewing licking thing that Oz had done to him, right back to Oz.

"Oh man, you taste good. How come I never knew that? How good you taste?" Devon slid his hands back down and gripped Oz's slender hips, tugging at the two t-shirts Oz had layered one over the other. Pulling them free, he pulled them over and free of Oz's body. He looked at them briefly before tossing them over one shoulder.

"I want my Dragon's Inn t-shirt back later, thief." Devon smiled.

"You never me tasted before and I guess three years is long enough to bogart a shirt." Oz breathed out all at once.

Devon had completely thrown him with the amazing shirt removal trick and the passionate attack. Not that he was complaining, no never that. He just wanted to even the odds. Hauling Devon close, Oz shoved at the jacket, working it and the paisley shirt off together. Then he tugged the t-shirt off with less grace than Devon. Well, Devon *had* more clothes removal experience.

All the shifting and tugging served to remind Oz of the hard on pressing against him. Rolling his hips again, he flicked one purple lacquered nail across Devon's chest, just teasing along a pebbled nipple. ~And the `lets' see how sensitive Dev's nips are' begins.~

With a strangled almost mindless groan, Devon rolled them to the side and over. Over until he had Oz pressed into the white on white floor. He lay there for a moment breathing heavily, and staring into eyes so bright he thought for a moment they would blind him. Oz's hands, that had slapped to either side when they rolled, slid back to his chest and harshly tugged at his nipples.

Devon ground his painfully hard cock against Oz's pelvis, moaning. Letting Oz feel how excited, how just very good he felt... And for the first time feeling Oz, even through two layers of denim. Oz was hard. Oz's cock was hard. He could feel it against his own hard on. Oz was hard and hard for him, and wasn't that just odd. He hadn't even considered that and wasn't that strange? And yet, it felt pretty damn good. Stranger still.

Oz's head hit the tile with a dull thump as he arched up. His legs wrapped around as high as they could on Devon's thighs. Letting go of the nipples lest he rip them off, Oz gripped the hips of Devon's jeans and rubbed up as hard as he could. The brilliant blue eyes above him had squeezed shut, but the lush mouth was open. Oz bit the lower lip carefully, always careful, with his teeth, worrying it. Devon, at last a guy he knew, wanted for a long time.

Slipping his fingers into the tight waistband of Devon's jeans, Oz slid his fingers around, sliding them between the tight press of their bodies. "Off. Now. Please."

It took a moment for Devon to actually realize Oz had spoke, and another moment to decode what it, the words, had meant. Jeans gone he'd be naked. Really naked. Naked with Oz. He swallowed hard and his head bowed to rest on Oz's chest. Panic reared up through and over his lust. Naked would mean this was for real. Not just making out and making time. It would change everything.

He trembled slightly, and whispered, "Dude, what are we doing?"

Oz pulled Devon completely down to his chest, wrapping his arms around the trembling body. "We're just *being*, Dev." He whispered back, kissing the dark hair. "Nothing wrong with it."

He knew though, could smell the fear pouring through the light sweat over Devon's torso. Holding Devon, Oz realized that he was going to have to do this. Devon wouldn't, couldn't and probably didn't even guess how. Using his legs, Oz rolled them over, laying out on top of his nervous friend.

"Shh. It's okay. I promise." Then he slid down the taller man's body, kissing, biting carefully, mapping out Devon's chest and stomach. Oz's lounge slid around in lazy circles on Devon's belly button, still unpierced despite constant wishes to do so.

"Oh man," Devon hissed.

Oz was doing the licking biting thing again. It was so wicked good. He had no defense against it. Not sure he wanted one. His buzz was fading, but he still felt high. It was so strange, and yet not strange enough, that Oz could do this to him. Make him feel like this. He gasped and groaned loudly when Oz's tongue unexpectedly darted into his bellybutton. Trust the short man to remember his talk about that turning him on...

A secret, pleased smile crossed Oz's face as he continued the slow tongue fucking of Devon's navel. He worried the edges with his dull teeth, ran fingers through the dark trail of hair under it. Slowly, using the distraction his mouth provided, he slid those fingers down and undid Devon's jeans. His hand slipped in, of course Devon didn't bother with underwear, and freed the singer's warm, wet erection. Just as Devon started to say something, Oz wrapped his lips around the head and sucked. Oh God, Devon tasted good.

"Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick!" Devon squealed.

He actually squealed, and was almost embarrassed, or might have been if Oz wasn't proceeding to suck what was left of his inhibitions and panic out through his dick. Blindly, his hands sought and rested in Oz's soft red hair. He had meant to say something about the new 'do. Shaggier than unusual. A red not found in nature with the tips dyed black. It was severely cool. And his brain inanely chattered on to him about hair styles, because Oz was blowing him. Going down on him. Sucking him off. Blowing his mind. And he couldn't watch. Couldn't see it. Blind because his eyes had decided the back of his skull needed inspection, and rolled that way.

It was too good, better than anything before, and that was... "Oh God Oz, yes!"

Oz licked, sucked and blew Devon messily. Letting spit and pre-come get everywhere it could. He knew what he wanted, knew it was going to hurt, and needed it. Needed the pain that would come, just for the pleasure. He needed Devon, needed him deep, and they didn't even have a bed in here much less lube.

Kicking his low-rise, battered Chuck Taylor's off , Oz fumbled at his jeans. It took a bit to shove them down far enough for his legs to work them off, but eventually he was naked. He striped his own cock a few times, gathering what pre-come there he could, a raised his hips a bit. Thanking the quiet monks for yoga, and didn't they have to know this would happen, Karma Sutra after all, he reached between his legs and wiped what he could back there. He kept up his oral worship of Devon a bit longer, then rose to straddle him.

All of Devon's brains were gone some where, swallowed down into the hot wet heaven of Oz's mouth. The wicked torture of Oz's tongue. All he could do was tremble and moan... And then it was gone. Devon's eyes flew open, indignant and ready to protest the stopping, only to see Oz assume the position. A position Devon recognized despite the starring role of a same sex partner. His mouth fell opened, dry and unable to do anything but gasp. Unbidden, his hands slid up his friend's thighs and gripped Oz's hips. ~Oh shit. We're really gonna do this. We're doing this.~

Oz shuddered at the warm slide of Devon's hands. Looking down, he saw Devon's face, shocked and still wanting. Oz gave his best friend one last smile and closed his eyes. Mouth open, nostrils flaring, tasting and scenting the musk and heat between them. Taking a deep breath, he took Devon's cock in one hand and slowly worked it... just... there.

Shit, this was going to hurt. Oms running through his mind, Oz twisted his hips, moving down as he could. His face screwed up and he dropped his head. Fuck it hurt, burned, as the head of Devon's cock breached him. He just tried to relax, tried to work more of Devon into him. Need need need, he could hear his heart pounding at him.

With anyone else at this point in the show, Devon would have slammed the rest of the way home. It took all that Devon had, some self control previously unused and unknown, not to slam himself the rest of the way into Oz. To not just take Oz fast and rough. It didn't seem to matter anymore that Oz was a guy. Not with him sinking slowly down onto Devon's cock. Not with that stunningly beautifully tortured look on his friend's face. And Devon couldn't really explain it any other way. Oz was beautiful like this. Hard and desperate. Hurting for it. He was beautiful with Devon inside him. Devon swallowed rapidly, and then pushed up gently to meet Oz descent. He knew his cock had to be on fire. His dick burned and he wanted more.

Oz tossed his head back and hissed as Devon slipped deeper in. Blood tainted his mouth as he bit his lip to keep from screaming, scaring Devon. Then, feeling a faint give, Oz realized Devon was in and he was seated flush against him, the rucked down zipper of the singer's jeans scratching his ass. He sobbed in a breath and waited for everything to shift around inside, loosening to allow this breech. Hands moving to grasp Devon's wrists, he opened his eyes, wet with tears, and looked down.

Devon shifted a hand free to caress Oz's face, and wipe at the tears. As much as he wanted this now, and wasn't that screwed in the head, he didn't want to hurt his friend. Was that his dick or his heart talking? For once Devon wasn't sure, he was unacquainted to feeling along side his fucking. Fucking was about getting *Devon* off, and that was all that mattered... But he didn't want to hurt Oz. He couldn't hurt Oz.

Softly, through all his confusion and all this foreign emotion, he murmured, "Oz."

Oz pressed his face into that hand, capturing it, licking the pulse on the wrist, kissing the palm. Such a smooth hand, he noted as he rubbed his cheek against it, letting his light stubble scruff across. Huge volumes of words filled him, so much he wanted to say to the emotional hitch in Devon's voice. He just could never get those words past his lips, ever. So, holding Devon's hand tight, he started to move. Up and down, slow and gentle. His eyes never left Devon's, trying to convey what he could not say.

"Oh fuck yeah, Oz," Devon moaned.

Never breaking eye contact, Devon latched onto Oz's hips. He couldn't stand it. Couldn't hold back. Trying to match Oz's pace, slow and gentle, he moved, canting his hips so he could thrust up and meet Oz on the downswing. He had a brief duh moment, when he realized how different it was from being with a chick. Tighter. More Friction. So hot. So very fucking delicious. It made him hungry for more. He had never wanted like this... Never felt like he was starving for someone. And it was melting his brain.

"Oz. S'fucking good. So. Fucking. Good!" he increased the pace, unable to stop himself, "Ride me, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock."

"Baby?" Oz burst out with a laugh. A good laugh. It figured Devon was a talker during sex. He didn't think he'd ever been with one. "Yeah, okay." Oz tried to match and break Devon's pace. "Like... oh fuck!"

The sizzling jolt that ran across his nerves shut Oz up. He sure wasn't a talker during sex, especially when everything was getting blurry and hot like now. Harsh pants, little whines were all he could do. More noise than normal from the guitarist, and he couldn't stop. Devon was fitting, fucking him perfectly.

"Right there huh?" Devon thrust up at that same angle. Another expression Devon thought he now might not be able to live without, not now that he'd seen it. The astonished ecstasy that had burst across Oz's face. "Is that it? That the spot?" he thrust again, "Feels pretty fuckin' fantastic to me... You wrapped around my cock. Gonna fuck hard, Oz. Need to fuck you..."

Oz nodded frantically, biting his bloodied lip again. How had he gone without this? Without the feel of Devon's cock in him? The harsh sex of Devon's voice lashing his ears? All of it driving him to a good frenzy. Oz gave in and wrapped one hand around his weeping, sputtering cock and tried to match Devon's pace.

"P-please... yeah..." He gasped out and went back to hitching sobs.

"Yeah! Gonna... Gotta..." Devon tighten his hands on Oz's hips to steady him, and started to thrust up with everything he had as fast as he could... It burnt so hot and so bright he couldn't see any thing else, but Oz's shining eyes. Couldn't feel anything else but the tight body he wanted to lose himself in and never come back.

"Gonna come, Oz.. Gonna come inside you! Gonna blow my load and fill you up... You ready? Cause I- I am!" Devon screamed as he felt the sweet push from his balls start, and felt his entire body start to tighten. Quickly, he pulled Oz down as he thrust as hard as could, needed to be as deep as possible inside Oz before he lost it.

Unable to stop it, Oz howled long and loud as Devon drove in. Just short of wolf and only part man, the sound of his ecstatic cry. Back arched and head back, he came, pearly strands shooting over his hand. The other hand was still clamped tight around one of Devon's wrists, his anchor against the rage inside. His skin burned and sparked, and he fought the change down. Nothing was going to ruin this. Nothing was going to stop the rushing sweeps of pleasure.

"Oooooooooooooooz!" A flurry of white noise and snowy static filled Devon's head as his entire body seized in ecstatic convulsions. He just managed to hold on to Oz as he became lost to the pleasure storm, sharper than arctic winds or steel blades. Devon released a howl of his own to mingle with Oz's.

Oz's eyes flashed open and he swayed, carried along on Devon's wave. For a moment, his vision clouded, blurring into the black and white, heated sight of the wolf. With one last snarl, he pushed it away and collapsed on Devon's heaving chest. As he listened to the trip-hammer of Devon's heart, he thought this was it. This was right and it wasn't ever going to be like this again. One more thing to shove away as he closed his eyes and struggled not to say the things running in his mind.

Devon shook as his muscles relaxed and his mind cleared. Instinctually, he wrapped his arms around Oz, and his mind clouded again. Everything was different now. It couldn't be the same could it? He had fucked his best friend. A guy. And it was good, but... He was so confused. This wasn't the way things were suppose to be... He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.

Tenderly, Devon ran a hand through Oz's sweaty hair. He had no idea what to say. For the first time in their forever friendship, Devon didn't know what to say to Oz. ~And there's the first change.~ He hugged Oz to him uncertainly. He was scared and confused, and it had nothing to do with the box. And suddenly he couldn't talk to Oz. He sighed softly to himself. Maybe he should just try to sleep, or just pretend to... Oz wasn't moving. They could talk later, maybe... Who knew how long they'd be here in the white box... Devon closed his eyes and pretended.

The End