Give It To You
"Do you wanna do the movie date thing at my house this weekend?" Willow asked
Oz as they walked through the halls of SHS, hand in hand.
"He can't," a voice said from behind them. Willow turned to face the invader
just in time to see Devon force himself between her and her boyfriend,
breaking their hold on each others hand.
"He can't?" Oz asked the lead singer of his band, trying to make an annoyed
face but failing miserably.
"Don't look at me that way, man. We've been asked to play at a battle of the
bands in Sacramento," Devon explained, pushing Oz over a little so that he
could put some distance between himself and Willow.
"We have?" Oz asked.
"Yep, I heard it's going to be a pretty big event. WSAC is sponsering it. The
winner will get a thousand bucks and one of their songs will be aired on
their station," Devon said, throwing an annoyed look at Willow as if she were
invading their personal conversation.
"Could be cool," Oz ammended. "You wanna go, baby?" Oz asked, looking passed
Devon to Willow.
Willow smiled widely and opened her mouth to answer, but was quickly cut off.
"She can't," Devon said, before a large smile spread across his face. "Unless
she wants to wear that leather outfit again."
Willow's eyes widened. "Nope. No leather for me. I'm non-leather girl," she
"Ozman, I'm seriously hurt here. We haven't had any quality time of our own
and you want to bring your girlfriend," Devon said with a mockingly sad look
on his face.
"Oh, I don't have to go, Oz. I think Giles needs me to research this weekend
anyway," Willow told him.
"Hey, what's up with you and that librarian anyway? You two spend too much
time together. It's not normal," Devon sneered.
"I...I have to go. I'll see you at lunch," Willow told Oz and sped up her
pace to join Xander at his Locker.
"Man, why do you still let her hang with that loser after you know about what
happened between them?" Devon asked Oz.
"So, tell me more about this battle of the bands," Oz changed the subject.
"Man, can you believe this?" Devon asked Oz excitedly as he tuned his guitar.
"Yes," Oz answered blandly.
"But, man, Mark McGrath and Jordan Knight are judging. Dude, Jordan Knight,"
Devon said, practically bouncing in anticipation.
A small, almost non-existent smile curled on Oz's lips. "Yeah, I remember
when we were nine, he was like your idol. You wanted to be just like him."
"Yeah, man. And he's here. Right out there. Do you think we'll get to meet
him? That would be so phat!" Devon said.
"Man, I can't believe we didn't win," Devon said dejectedly as he wrapped up
his mic cord. "It's all that fucker, Kid Roc's fault!"
"Not really. He gave everybody zeros," Oz said, packing his guitar away.
"Yeah, except that band that had the chick lead singer with big tits," Devon
added grumpily. "Oh, shit!" Devon's eyes widened suddenly as they focused on
something over Oz's shoulder.
"What?" Oz asked, looking himself up and down as if he had something on him.
"Jordan Knight. He's headed this way," Devon whispered. "Hey, be cool, man.
Don't act all fan-like."
"Shouldn't be a problem," Oz said, laughing to himself.
"Hey." Oz turned around to see the former New Kid standing over his shoulder.
"Hey!" Devon repeated, jumping to his feet.
"I just wanted to tell you guys that I thought you were great. I voted for
you anyway. You should have won," Jordan Knight said, glancing from Devon to
Oz and back again.
"Uh, thanks," Devon said, smiling sheepishly and looking down at his feet.
"Look, I'm having a little party at my hotel and I thought you
guys might want to show. Do a little mingling," Jordan offered.
"Hell yeah!" Devon said, noticing the flinch that Oz gave at his overly
excited reaction to the proposal. "I mean, why not? Could be cool," he said,
in a much calmer voice, but still unable to hold back his large grin.
"Great," Jordan said in a soft voice, giving a short smile. "My limo is
waiting outside when you guys are ready to go." With that, the man-boy turned
to leave, but thought about it and turned back. "And Devon, I wanted to let
you know that your vocals were very moving. I'm interested in talking to
you about that." Then he turned and walked away.
Oz had to fight the strong urge to puke when he saw his friend nearly swoon.
"Okay, normally I'm not this crass, but that guy is such a flamer," Oz
"He's not a flamer," Devon defended. "He's just sensitive and shit."
Ten minutes later Oz found himself being dragged through a crowd of screaming
thirteen year old girls, to a stretch limo. Bouncers were busy prying the
little teeny-boppers off of the hood, to make room for Devon and the rest of
the band. "See, this is what I want!" Devon shouted at Oz over the screeches
that was nearly blowing Oz's eardrums. His enhanced hearing wasn't helping
matters at all.
"Your goal in life is to become a pediphile?!" Oz shouted back, but Devon
wasn't paying attention, to focused on pushing his way to the open door that
Finally, the band was able to make their way the screaming fan-girls and into
the limo. Oz was about to let out a sigh of relief when his eyes fell on that
of their host. A tremor of sudden fear suddenly ran through him, but he shook
it off. Of course, he's entertained the idea that Jordan Knight may be evil,
but he hadn't put him in the goulies category, but he was getting some
seriously wicked vibes from him now.
He didn't have much time to process this new and scary sense as the limo
screeched away from the curb. During the short ride to the hotel, which they
were dropped off in the back of, Jordan spoke to them all about how
disappointed he was that they hadn't won. Mike and Brian both seemed
exceedingly amused by the fact that they were actually hanging out with
Jordan Knight, confounding the singer when they'd suddenly burst into fits of
laughter after every time he spoke.
After they'd left the limo and entered the hotel through the kitchen, Oz
clutched onto Devon's shirt-tail, so as not to fall behind the quickly moving
team of body guards that were rushing Jordan to the employees elevators.
Soon, Oz found himself and the rest of the band being led into a large suite,
teaming with people waiting for their host's arrival. As they entered, many
people swarmed around the former New Kid and Oz thought this might be his
chance to pull Devon off to the side and let him know about his trepidation,
but unfortunately, Jordan pulled Devon along with him to introduce him to a
hoard of people.
With a sigh of resignation, Oz allowed himself to lose sight of his friend,
deciding that his worries were probably unbased and far from realistic.
Besides, Devon would have to be an incredible wuss to let Jordan Knight do
anything to him that he didn't want. Seating himself on a couch, he turned to
see a man at the other side. Much to his unobvious distress, he found himself
looking into the eyes of Joey McIntyre. When the little girlie boy began
talking to him, Oz was overcome with the sudden urge to throttle himself with
his shirt collar, but surprisingly didn't let on.
Devon was on cloud nine, his natural giddiness mixing well with the three or
four drinks he had consumed. Jordan was introducing him to a number of
people, most of them with connections in the music industry. Oz, Mike and
Curt were being way flippant about this. Didn't they realize what this could
do for the Dingoes? Then his eyebrows furrowed together as the image of him
and the other guys dressed in Tommy Hilfigher and dancing to an electrified
beat as they crooned obnoxiously about 'love' flashed before his eyes. Some
time before the night was over, he was going to have to dicern whether these
were the kind of connections that the Dingoes wanted.
Giving one last smile to the pretty woman that he was talking to, Jordan gave
her a quick apology before excusing himself and gently pulling Devon along
with him. The two of them weaved around the many people until they came upon
a door that Jordan opened and gestured for Devon to enter before him.
Devon walked into the room, finding it to be spacious with a huge bed. He
turned to find Jordan leaning casually against the door with a faint smile on
his lips. Lifting the glass in his hand, to his lips, Devon took a big gulp
of his 7 and 7 without breaking eye contact.
"Ya know, Devon," Jordan said, pushing himself away from the door and walking
in a slow, wide circle around him. "I think it was probably fate that I was
judging at that contest tonight."
"You mean it wasn't for publicity or lack of a better offer?" Devon asked,
seriously looking confused.
"No, I think the two of us were meant to meet. You are so talented Devon and
I can help you bring that talent to the world," Jordan said, flashing a
"Thanks, dude, about introing me to all of those people," Devon said,
suddenly feeling very nervous.
Jordan shook his head. "We've only known each other for just a few short
hours, but I feel really close to you, Devon. And I want to give you
Devon's brows furrowed, but he didn't speak as Jordan walked to the other
side of room. The other man continued to fiddle with something that Devon
couldn't see since his view was blocked. Suddenly the sound of carnie music
filled the room, followed by an up beat. When Jordan turned back around, he
held a microphone in one hand and wore an attempt at a sexy smile on his face.
Devon's eyebrows shot up as Jordan opened his mouth to belt out a line of
high pitched lyrics.
"It's creeping around in my head...me holding you down in my bed...you don't
have to say a word...I'm convinced you want this...baby, you know that I'll
give it to you...your body needs a man like me..."
By now, Devon was fully aware that he had once again put himself in a sticky
situation. The horror of what was coming from the other man's lips was making
Devon's limbs go limp with fear. He, at that moment, realized that he was in
the presence of true evil. Forcing, his body to respond to his thoughts,
he turned to make a bee line for the door.
Unfortunately, the alcohol that he had consumed had made his movements slow
and uncordinated and he was easily caught. Two arms wrapped around his waist
from behind, and with a strength that could only be discribed as inhuman, he
was tossed across the room, landing in the middle of the large bed with an
"Just let me know, and I'll give it to you....tell me where...I'll taste you
Devon's flesh crawled as the creature moved towards him, dancing quickly
along to the beat. "No! Please!" he cried, but there was no way to prevent
"Oz, you're a beautiful person. There's no other person in the world that you
could be better at being you."
Duh, you fairy asshole. Oz thought as the wide-eyed man child spoke to him,
seeming to repeat the same sentence over and over again, only using different
words each time. Sniffing distainfully, Oz was now fully prepared to be rude
and walk away from this bullshit, but a strong scent hit his nostrils. It was
heady and fear laden. That was all it took before he bolted off of the couch
with superhuman speed. It's Devon. He's afraid.
After pushing his way through the crowds in the room, Oz twisted the knob of
the door. He knew Devon was in there. The knob refused to twist at first, but
stepping back a few feet, Oz ran into the door with full force, causing the
wood to crack and give way.
The sight that he found put a tremor of fear in him, yet the anger he felt
was overpowering. His best friend was pinned to the bed with their host over
him, covering his face in slobbery kisses.
"Take your filthy boyband hands off of my buddy, you high-pitched jag off!!"
he yelled, his finger pointed accusingly.
Jordan Knight turned away from a sobbing Devon, pinning Oz with a hateful
stare. Oz nearly backed away when he saw the man's eyes glow a florescent
pink as he let out a hiss. Out of the corner of his eye, Oz spotted the
discarded microphone and swooped it up before jumping onto the bed.
Jordan screamed like a girl and tried to back away from the
testosterone-filled, yet secure, boy. Pulling back with the microphone, Oz
cut off the glass shattering wail by shoving the mic so far down his throat
it burst through the other side of his head.
Oz pulled back as the former singer began to melt into a huge puddle of
liquid pink goo, covering a still-quivering Devon in the remains. "Now,
that's what I call the 'right stuff'," Oz monotoned the pun as any good
Slayerette would do.
"Oz!" Devon cried in relief and sat up to throw his arms around the waist of
his best friend. "I was so scared."
Oz stroked Devon's hair. "Just let that be a reminder whenever you nod your
head to an N' Sync song. Or mouth the words to a BSB song. They are all evil,
Wrapping an arm around Devon, Oz began leading his friend out of the room.
"Does Savage Garden count?" Devon questioned.
"Yes, Devon. Yes, they do."