Band Stuff

"A twenty song set, Oz, are you kidding me?" Devon looked at the guitar player with a look of shock on his face, "They've never asked us to play so long!" Devon breathed out tiredly. It had been a long day of putting in job apps, and he just wanted to go out, sing a few songs, and get nicely toasted with Oz in his van.

"It'll be okay, we still have an hour to warm up and wind down."

"How do you expect me to wind down...huh?!" Devon paced back and forth in the back stage area, as Oz placed his guitar down.

"The storage room," Oz stood, walking over to Devon, and calming him with a hand on his upper harm, "where the bands get ready. And do band stuff."

Devon quirked an eyebrow, nodding slowly.

Oz smirked, leading the wired lead singer to the storage room in the back of The Bronze, by the stage, where the bands often did band stuff. He shut the door, locking it.

"We don't have much time." Oz smiled at Devon, pushing him on to the couch with mock force. "So, I don't get to watch you do a strip tease." Oz settled on the couch next to Devon, and leaned over to kiss his friend on the lips roughly, snaking his tongue out after a few moments into Devon's eagerly awaiting mouth.

Oz noticed the shouting voice of a deejay the club had hired to come in once every week. They claimed they wanted to draw more 'ethnic groups' to the club, so they made sure he slipped in some hip-hop, rap, and R&B songs every now and then. The deejay disregarded the every now and then part, and his shifts had slowly turned into a block of the so-called 'ethnic music'. The club was still over run with white people. The song currently playing was "Can I Get A..."

Oz smiled when he saw Devon squirm from the noises in the club. Very paranoid, he was.

Oz unbuttoned Devon's sparkly gold shirt quickly, running his hands over the lead singers chest.

"God, damn, Oz. Ow!" Oz looked down, and noticed his pinkie had caught on the ring around Devon's nipple. Oz smirked, saying, "When did you get that?"

"The other day. Just steer clear, okay?"

"I don't have anything to steer clear of any flesh mutilations when I go down, do I?" Oz made a mocking face as he unbuttoned his fellow band member's pants.

"No, man, do you have and idea how badly that hurts? Think about what would happen if that got infected, man!" Devon looked at his friend, barely noticing the hands roaming on his body, until he felt one of them encircle his Pop-Rock Cock (tm). (It goes crackle in your mouth.)

Devon groaned, thrusting into Oz's hand. He began to unbutton Oz's shirt in a rush, wanting to feel Oz's smooth skin against him. He looked up at the shirt, "What, you got like twenty buttons on this, or something?"

Oz rolled his eyes, and let his friend shed him of his shirt.

Devon's pants were around his ankles, and Oz's erection was pressing against his painfully. Oz knew they didn't have much time left, since it was five twenty-nine, so he dropped to his knees with a sweeping flair all his own.

Oz idly listened to the loud music playing in the club, listening to Busta Rhymes proclaiming his check over everyone in a remixed fashion. Then there was a rap by ODB.

Oz nibbled on Devon's thighs slowly, licking teasingly as he moved up to the erect shaft in front of him. He slowly took the tip into his mouth, swirling around in a 360 with his tongue, and then moving to do a slide harmonica move down the base.

Devon grasped onto the pillows of the couch, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to refrain from bucking forward to eagerly.

Oz's hand came up to fondle Devon's balls, sliding up and down the bottom of the base as he took more and more of Devon into his mouth, slowly, laying the suction on thick.

Devon grunted bucking forward spastically. Oz thanked all God's he hadn't bitten Devon's cock off as a result, and he continued to continue at his task at hand.

Devon moaned out one last time, and came, shouting, "Make's you wanna say damn!"

Oz raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. Devon pulled his pants up and reached for Oz, slipping his arm around the small guitar player's waist. He pulled him up to the couch, and began to kiss him idly, as he unbuttoned his pants.

They didn't even hear the click of the keys against the door outside, but they most certainly heard the door open, and the squeak that came from the opener.

Devon slipped his hand out of Oz's pants, and Oz turned to see one of the last people he'd expect to interrupt their...uh, time together. "Hey Buffy."

"Oz?! What are you doing?!" Buffy's eyes darted around the storage room, seeing the large box of straws she was looking for. They went right back to Oz.

"Band stuff," Oz explained. He turned to Devon, who had his eyes in his hands, his head shaking.

"Bands don't do stuff like this, Oz," Buffy unconsciously entered the room further.

"Hey, lady, could you like...shut the door, or leave? I'm kind of naked," Devon crossed his arms across his chest, uncrossing them almost immediately for pulling on his nipple ring. "What are you doing in here anyway? You don't work here?"

Oz nodded, "Yeah. Did you need something?"

"Straws! They were out of them at the bar. The chick there forced the keys in my hand, and pointed me in the direction of this room."

"Oh." Oz stood, walking over to the wall where the boxed straws were being kept, "Did you want the regular ones, or the neon colors?"

"Oz, you were making out with Devon. That's wrong. What about Willow? What about heterosexuality? What about decency? What about...good taste?!"

"I told Willow about me and Devon?"

Devon made a meeping sound from the couch, "You did!?"

Oz nodded, "Yeah."

Buffy looked at him incredulously, "And how did she react?"

"Well, she laughed, and told me I was silly. I think she took it well."

"She wasn't taking you seriously, Oz."

Oz shrugged, "That's her problem."

"Come on, babe, you coming or going?" Devon called from the couch.

Buffy's faced scrunched up in an unattractive scowl.

"Well, you're obviously not coming." Devon smirked.

"That's it, this is odd, and strange, and I don't like you!" Buffy pointed a finger at Devon.

"Oz, make the crazy bitch go away!"

"Nobody calls me a crazy bitch!" Buffy lunged at Devon, but was quickly caught by Oz, before he fist was to connect with Devon's face.

"God, where did you meet this head case?" Devon backed scooted away from Buffy. "Let go of my Oz," Buffy relaxed against his grip.

"Are you going to kill Devon?"


"Than I can't let you go," Oz held Buffy tighter, slipping an arm around her waist.

"Oz, I could easily slip out of your hold, but it would involve great violence to you."

"Let the whacked chick go, Oz." Devon grabbed his shirt, and began to turn it around the right way.

"You gonna hurt him, Buffy?"

Buffy breathed out heavily, slightly offset by the feeling of Oz's nipples against the top of her bare, tank-topped back. His arms fit around her so that there was no space between her and him.

Buffy bit on her lip, which had began to quiver from the feeling of Oz's warm breath on her neck, and the steady rising and falling of his chest. "I won't hurt him. Just tell him not to piss me off. I'm not in a good mood."

Buffy felts Oz's arms relinquish her, and she sighed out.

"God, 'not in a good mood'? You're on your rag, aren't you?" Devon finally mastered the art of turning his shirt inside out.

Buffy lunged at him again, and in a quick fluent movement she had him by his nipple ring. "If I pull, it'll hurt like Hell."

"Oz!" Devon whined, looking up at the shirtless slacker.

Oz sat down on the couch, "Buffy, is this sudden aggressive behavior brought on by shock?"

Buffy tugged on the nipple ring, "I'm not in a good mood. Tell your boyfriend to apologize to me, and I can go and tell Willow what a freak you are."

"I'm sorry. God, fuckin' loony dyke."

Buffy pulled on the ring again, and felt Oz touch her on the arm softly. She pulled harder on the nipple ring, making Devon shriek. She smirked, "I know twenty ways you kill you with your own piercing."

Oz perched forward, slipping his hand around her side, "Calm down Buffy. He's an asshole."

"You're an asshole!" Buffy yelled back at him, "Willow's going to be devastated."

Oz slipped his hand down to Buffy's stomach, breathing softly in her ear, "Don't you want to have something to tell her." He slipped his hand under the tank-top, and into the waistband of her cargo pants.

"Oz!? What are you doing?" Buffy shivered as she felt Oz's hand slip down to cup her sex.

Oz slipped his fingers into Buffy's folds, softly manipulating her clit. She wasn't dripping, but was surprisingly wet. Maybe she'd just been hanging with Angel.

"Oz," Buffy moaned, still grabbing onto Devon's nipple ring.

"Get her to let go, man. This is making me nervous."

Oz's hand danced over Buffy's clit, constrained by the tight pants, but still getting their job done.

Buffy's hand finally let go of Devon's nipple ring, causing him to sigh with relief. He watched, interested, as Oz brought Buffy to orgasm quickly. Her face looked so delicate, and released when she came. Oz kissed her on the neck softly as her orgasm peaked, and then slipped his hand out of her pants.

Oz stood from the couch, leaving Buffy kneeling there, and Devon looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

Buffy gave Devon an embarrassed, angry look, and stood to turn Oz, "I'm leaving now. I came here for a straw, hopefully one of those delightful bendy ones, and this is what I find." Buffy walked quickly on wobbly legs to the door.

Buffy opened the door, and they all heard the sound of 'Are You That Somebody' wafting through from the club. She ambled off, mumbling something about a tea cozy, or whatever.

Oz shut the door, locking it. "Damn," he breathed out.

Devon ran his eyes down Oz's body, seeing his erection through his pants clearly. "Come here, man...we only have, like, twenty minutes!"