•••

Oz was just settling down with a good book when Xander flopped down on the bed. The Raphe had been fiddling with some daggers on the dresser, shortly after rearranging Oz’s CD collection. Now he was lying next to the werewolf, staring at him intently. It was unnerving.

“What?” Oz murmured, trying to pay attention to his book.

Xander grinned. “Nothing.”

Oz rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

A minute later, his book disappeared. Xander had plucked it out of his hands and tossed it across the room. He looked over at the demon in frustration, but what he saw stopped his rebuke. Whereas a moment before Xander’s expression had been mischievous, now it was fierce. He leaned back as Xander crawled over him, slithering up his body to press him down against the bed.

Xander enjoyed feeling Oz shiver as he ran his tongue along the base of his neck, licking away traces of salt from his skin. He kneaded his hands into Oz’s shoulders, pressing hard. The werewolf arched up, then lay back, trying not to respond.

“Xander,” Oz began warningly. He had been holding off on initiating a more intimate level of their relationship, wanting to wait until Xander had a better grasp on what he was. Oz, of all people, knew what could happen if you didn’t have a full appreciation of what you were capable of. His ignorance had almost cost Tara her life.

Xander growled warningly. “Tired of waiting, Oz.”

“They’re together, aren’t they? Is he feeding again?” Oz asked. Xander’s ability to control his empathic tendencies was improving, but he still picked up on the slightest surge of sexual energy. They both figured it was due to his age. Because of that, Oz was even more hesitant to start having sex at this point; he was never sure if Xander was responding to him or to his surroundings.

Xander clawed his hands down Oz’s shirt. “I want to. NOW!”

Oz braced his hands against Xander and pushed him over to one side. Before the faster demon could grab him again, Oz got off the bed and walked out the door, heading for the lobby. He couldn’t stand it; he craved contact with Xander like a drug, but he was afraid for him. The boy could easily wake up the morning after and run, blaming the whole thing on the influence of other people’s hormones.

Xander chased after Oz. He knew what the werewolf was thinking. While it was true that the initial push was from the guys upstairs, the drive was his own. He’d been going crazy the past few weeks, waiting for Oz to do something—anything at all.

“Oz! Wait up!” Xander called out, following Oz through the lobby and down to where his van was parked.

“No,” Oz said flatly. “I’m going out.”

Xander ran in front of him and leaned against the driver’s side door. It wouldn’t stop a determined werewolf, but it might buy him some time. “This isn’t about them, Oz.”

Oz cocked an eyebrow. “It isn’t? Then why do you only start when they do?”

Xander grimaced. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s not just because they’re together right now, ok?”

Oz shook his head. “I can’t just stay around here right now, Xan. Move.”

Xander stepped away from the door. “Let me prove it?”

“How?” Oz asked as he got into the van.

“Take me with you. I won’t be around them or anyone if you’d prefer. Then we’ll see,” Xander replied.

Oz didn’t like it much, but it was better than the current situation. “Fine.”

Xander restrained a shout and hopped into the passenger seat. Before long they were on the highway, heading for nowhere in particular. “Where are we going?”

Oz looked out the window. “Elsewhere.”

“Um, ok,” Xander replied, shrugging. If Oz wanted to be cryptic, fine by him.

They drove for more than an hour, Xander staring out the side window as the dusty scenery whizzed by. He dozed a little and jerked awake when they turned off the main road, onto a gravel path. Oz drove them several miles down it before turning again. Xander couldn’t see the highway, or anything else for that matter. Still Oz kept driving, until Xander was completely lost. He couldn’t even see the faint glow of Los Angeles from here.

“Where are we?” Xander asked as Oz pulled the van to a halt. They were at the base of a tall rock formation, which looked ominous in the pale moonlight.

Oz shrugged. “I come out here to run sometimes,” he replied. It was a good place to let the wolf slip a little; no one lived nearby and the only traffic was a power company guy that checked the transmission lines once in a while. He’d never actually encountered anyone else out here.

“Cool,” Xander said, walking around the van. He paused next to Oz for a moment, wondering just how they’d go about this. His feelings for Oz hadn’t changed on the drive, but the situation and what had been said sort of put a damper on his ‘want to jump Oz now’ feelings.

Oz opened the back of his van and pulled out a soft, old blanket. Tucking it under one arm, he shut the van door and started walking along the rock formation. Xander hurried to follow him as they wound their way between boulders and small scrub bushes.

It took another half-hour to get to where Oz wanted to be. On the far side of the ridge was a shallow recess carved into the rocks. He liked to sit there during the heat of the day, protected from the burning sun yet still outside, where the wolf wasn’t clawing at the walls. When they reached the cave, Oz spread the blanket on a waist-high rock inside it. Xander propped his head on Oz’s shoulder, looking around curiously. “Neat place.”

“Yeah,” Oz murmured. He felt Xander’s awkwardness and saw the same within himself. Steeling himself for whatever happened, Oz turned around, loosely wrapping his arms around Xander’s waist.

Xander took advantage of the moment, leaning down to kiss Oz as soon as he was within reach. As soon as Oz began to respond, Xander deepened the kiss, tasting Oz’s wild, exotic flavor. In the back of his mind, he felt the werewolf’s arousal shimmer and grow, but he studiously ignored it. If Oz wanted this to be about only what he felt, so be it.

Oz brought his hands around to run them under Xander’s shirt, digging his fingers into whipcord muscles. Xander arched against him, demanding more. He complied, turning them so that Xander was pressed against the blanketed rock. Soon they were grinding against each other, breathless moans drifting down to the ground below them.

Xander closed his eyes against the night sky, trying desperately to isolate his mind. The more excited they got, the harder it was to differentiate what he felt from what Oz did. He couldn’t help it; whenever he touched Oz he felt an echo of the caress on his own body. Whenever Oz did something to arouse him, it doubled back in his mind, ringing loudly along his nerves. When the werewolf palmed his erection through his jeans, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Oz grinned at the low groan Xander released when he rubbed his hand against the demon’s cock. He didn’t seem to be having any problems at the moment, so Oz pushed things a bit further, starting to unfasten Xander’s clothes. To his surprise, Xander returned the favor, stripping the werewolf with amazing ease and familiarity.

When Oz pushed on Xander’s shoulder to turn him around, the boy paused for a moment. It was clear what happened next, but until now Xander hadn’t given it as much thought as others might have thought. The small tube of lube in Oz’s hand brought him back to reality rather quickly. “You remembered that?” He asked incredulously.

Oz just cocked an eyebrow. Of course he remembered it. Then again, he always had some in the van. It paid to be prepared. He nudged Xander’s shoulder again and the demon turned around, leaning against his arms on the rock. Oz pushed a leg between Xander’s, making him step apart. Once he had Xander opened to his liking, Oz opened the tube and drizzled the cold stuff into the crevice of Xander’s ass, making him yelp.

“Cold!” Xander squeaked. Oz smirked. Once he’d finished with the lube, Oz ran a finger down the trail he’d just made, letting Xander get used to being touched. His breath puffed warmly against Xander’s shoulder as he brushed and pressed the demons’ tight hole.

Xander shuddered and jerked under the gentle caress. It was better than he’d been expecting, but it was also taking a lot longer. He twitched when a finger pushed inside him, going in easier than he’d thought it would but still feeling odd. He was just getting used to the one finger when another joined it, pushing against him. He winced against a twinge of pain but said nothing.

Oz caught the scent of pain and anxiety warring for dominance with arousal and slowed down a bit, twisting his hand to find Xander’s prostate. He’d wanted to hold off on doing that, since it was obvious that Xander was very easily aroused. He wanted this to last, not be over before it started.

Xander yelped, and then hummed in appreciation as whatever Oz changed about his method put sparks behind his eyes. So that’s why guys did this. Hello, prostate. Man, if Anya’d known about this, he’d still be in Sunnydale. Pushing that thought aside, Xander moved back to press Oz’s fingers harder against that wonderful little spot. This was far better than anything he’d ever done before. A tight, pulsing ecstasy crept through his body, alternately tensing and releasing his muscles.

Oz wondered idly if Xander had any idea how wanton he looked, bent over a rock while thrusting back against his hand like that? The low moans and occasional ‘more’ didn’t hurt the picture he made one bit. Oz pushed a third finger in, pleased that Xander didn’t even tense up when he did so. Perhaps this part wouldn’t take all night.

Xander whimpered as Oz’s fingers disappeared from his ass. Damn, he wished they’d thought of this a long time ago—coming out to the middle of nowhere. They could have been having fun for weeks now. When he felt the push of Oz’s blunt cock at his hole, he pushed back encouragingly. Anything that made the burning, rushing pleasure return was fine by him.

Oz watched Xander carefully as he pushed inside. The dark boy was a true virgin; he’d never had more than a finger inside his ass before tonight. Because of that he was startlingly tight. Despite the resistance Oz encountered, Xander didn’t complain. Hells, he pushed back more, sinking himself on Oz’s cock with an eagerness the werewolf wasn’t anticipating. The deep, throaty moan Xander released encouraged Oz to thrust forward, pushing his erection the rest of the way inside.

Xander’s eyes nearly crossed as Oz shoved himself right over his new most favorite place on or in his entire body. He was incredibly full, but the searing feeling was more than welcome. Xander leaned farther forward, opening himself more to Oz.

The werewolf looked down at the graceful curve of Xander’s back, following the s-curve of his spine up and over the cheeks of his ass to where Oz’s cock was shoved up inside his hole. Xander was moaning and pushing back against him, practically begging him to move. Taking a firm grip on the demon’s hips, Oz rocked forward, then back, gently moving himself inside Xander. Despite his lover’s enthusiasm, he could be easily hurt at this point.

“Ozzzz……..” Xander moaned, laying his head down on the covered rock. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…” He pushed back against Oz, riding the werewolf for all he was worth. Each movement sent shivers up his spine and down his aching, leaking cock. When he could actually form a thought, he was amazed at how close to coming he was without having even a hand on his erection.

Oz redoubled his efforts, pushing into Xander faster, although without any more force. The flesh surrounding him was tight and feverishly hot, drawing him in and wringing him dry. He was so close, but kept holding off, wanting to be aware enough to enjoy Xander’s orgasm. To that end he twisted his hips just so, grinding his cock against Xander’s prostate with almost cruel pressure.

Xander’s head whipped back and a high, unearthly scream was ripped from his throat as he bucked and convulsed against the supporting rock. Pleasure, almost to the point of being pain, slammed into him again and again. He almost choked on it, gagging on the very air he breathed.

Oz watched as Xander spasmed and howled into the night sky. The screams went from simply mindless to truly terrifying—no sound a human had ever made. They kept pouring out of his throat, an ululating litany of shrieks and wails. The sound made the werewolf howl and leap at Oz’s soul and he pulled Xander back as he thrust forward, sinking himself deep inside as he came. Unlike Xander, no sound came out of his mouth as he climaxed, a mirror image of his still-crying lover. Exhausted beyond belief, Oz finally collapsed against Xander, who was draped over the blanketed rock like a thrown-aside rag doll.

When Oz finally roused, he pulled away from Xander very slowly, not wanting to cause him even a moment’s pain. He looked down at his lover, eyes bugging out at the emerging pattern on his back. Shit. He’d forgotten about that. Raphe demons didn’t develop their characteristic stripes until sexual initiation. It was probably good they were out here, in case Xander couldn’t immediately learn to control them so that they would fade on command. Speaking of the young demon, he was still out cold and gasping for air. Oz gently ran a hand down his back, rousing him from his stupor.

Xander groaned as he regained consciousness. A delicious ache permeated his body and his skin itched pleasantly. Rolling over, he opened his eyes to see Oz, similarly pleased-looking, staring back at him.

“You ok?” Oz asked softly.

“Mmm hmm,” Xander hummed. Why was Oz peering at him like that? The werewolf raised a tentative hand and traced his fingers across Xander’s cheek. “What?”

“Stripes are a good look on you,” Oz commented wryly.

Xander blinked. Oh hell. He’d completely forgotten about that. He hoped the meditation stuff worked on them, too. Otherwise he’d be concocting some wild stories about Tijuana, tequila, and a pretty girl who’d assured him that whole-body tattoos were incredibly sexy. “So…is everything ok?”

Oz nodded. “Yeah, for the moment, anyway. We may have a problem later, though.”

Xander frowned. “Why?”

Oz jumped up on their rock and sat down, staring up at the stars. “You’re a screamer. Big time screamer. The neighbors will complain,” He said. After a beat, he continued. “In San Francisco.”

Xander blushed a bright red, making his new stripes turn almost black from their normal medium brown. “You’re kidding, right?”

Oz just cocked an eyebrow.

“Fuck.”