And Then...

Xander awoke in an empty bed. He turned on his side and buried his face in the pillow next to him. If he kept his eyes shut, he could pretend he was still in the dream, smelling Oz and feeling the warm spot recently vacated. He wasn't sure he was ready to go back to the reality of his lonely solo journey around the country.

The soft thump of ceramic on wood confused him. It didn't belong in a sterile, anonymous motel room. Especially since he was supposed to alone in his sterile, anonymous motel room. Then a warm body settled next to him, arm draped casually across Xander's hip, hand trailing to his stomach. "I was hoping to be back before you woke up. I made coffee."

Now Xander's eyes opened, taking in his surroundings. Not a motel room. Not sterile or anonymous. Tie-dyed sheets, paisley comforter, a low bookcase overflowing with books under the window... Just a basic bedroom, decorated by a person, not an interior decorator. A person with questionable taste and a limited budget, but it still a home he could live in if given the chance.

And the previous three days had really happened.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Oz's voice was tinged with concern.

Xander rolled over to face Oz. "Yeah. I just had morning brain for a minute." Recalling the events of the previous evening, he reddened. "I'm sorry about last night." After returning to Molly's house after the party, the two teens had decided to stay up and watch movies. After some debate, they had decided to start with Face/Off and move on to a comedy to be named later after the action film. Xander had managed to fall asleep during the bomb-planting scene. He had awakened briefly, during the prison escape, when one of the cats jumped onto his lap. At that point, Oz had proposed that they just go to bed rather than try to stay awake and watch the rest of the movie. Xander had groggily agreed, but now, he felt embarrassed at his inability to stay awake.

But the morning after, Oz just shrugged. "It happens. You had a big day." He handed one of the mugs to Xander. "Drink up. We have sights to see."

As Xander complied, an odd look fell over Oz's face. "What's wrong?"

The odd look changed to goofy. "Nothing. Just thinking about some song lyrics."

"What? 'Touch me in the morning/ Then just walk away?'"

"Nope. 'We'll have time for coffee-flavored kisses/ And a bit of conversation.'"

"Oh." Realization dawned. "Oh." He quickly drained the mug, reaching across Oz's body to place the mug back on the nightstand. But when he pulled his arm back, it stopped at Oz's waist, fingers creeping under the hem of Oz's t-shirt. "Oz? Can we skip the conversation? Just for now?" When Oz didn't respond, Xander moved his gaze from his hand to Oz's face with its closed eyes and soft smile. He moved his hand experimentally, watching Oz's face twitch. He grinned. "Oz?" At Oz's continued silence, he withdrew his hand.

Finally, Oz opened his eyes and lifted his head from the pillow. "Xander..."

"What?" He feigned exaggerated innocence. "If you don't feel comfortable with something, I'll stop." He moved his fingers back to the flesh udner the hem of Oz's shirt.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Oz suddenly asked, "So what did you talk to Frank about yesterday?"

Xander froze before realizing that this was a sort of test. Not a test, exactly, but more of a... gauge. That was it. "Nothing, really. Music, movies, the house."

"And what did you think?"

The question asked wasn't really in the words uttered. "I think that it's something I want."

At that statement, Oz pulled away and got out of bed again. Xander panicked for a moment -- did he say the wrong thing? -- but calmed down when Oz returned, dropping his backpack next to the bed. "Just getting ready." He smiled at Xander. "Your move."

"Is this really okay? I mean--"

Oz cut off Xander's words with a kiss. "If you don't shut up, I may have to resort to force."

The small joke increased the tension rather than relieving it. As he once again returned his fingers to the skin under Oz's shirt, Xander lowered his voice to a whisper. "Promise?"

But Oz wasn't paying attention to Xander's words. Oz was, in a word, distracted. His eyes had fallen closed again, and that small smile had reformed on his lips.

Xander moved so his head was angled under Oz's chin. Carefully, he stroked Oz's waist and breathed warm air on Oz's throat. He was rewarded with a low moan. "Can I take off your shirt?" Frantic nodding. He grinned. The shirt quickly went flying through the air. Now he had a lovely expanse of chest to play with. But Oz's eyes were still closed. "Oz? Why don't you keep your eyes open?"

Instead of answering, he opened his eyes and gazed down at Xander. "Trade places?" Once Xander was on his back, shirt off, Oz settled in next to Xander. "Okay. Eyes open." Xander watched as Oz kissed his way down Xander's torso, sighing when Oz took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. It was nice. Very nice. But he still didn't understand Oz's point. "Okay. Now eyes closed. And keep in mind that my senses are sharper than yours."

At first, he didn't see the big deal. It was just like having his eyes open except darker. And then, because he couldn't see anything, he realized he would have to concentrate a little bit more. Oz's tongue gently stroked his earlobe while hands kneaded his arms. His nose was filled with the scent of Oz's shampoo, and he was entranced by the steady sound that he realized was himself breathing rhythmically with Oz, laced with the soft scratching of the stubble on both of their faces rubbing together. Just when he began to understand what Oz was talking about, the stroking and kneading stopped.

"Eyes still closed, okay?" A soft voice near his ear. He nodded.

And then almost jumped off the bed when that tongue moved to his navel. He couldn't help it. He moaned. Oz chuckled.

"Are you okay?" He nodded. "Good." And then the warm body covering his pulled away. He whimpered, opening his eyes. "Do you trust me?" Again, he nodded. "Close your eyes?" He complied. He tensed at the rustling sounds next to the bed, but he reminded himself that this was Oz.

Finally, the rustling stopped. He heard a small ripping noise, then a pause. "Oz?"

"Hmm?" And then he felt it. First, his boxers were tugged down and off. Then something wet, sliding down the length of his erection. Funny -- his attention had been so wrapped up in everything else going on while his eyes were closed that he hadn't noticed getting hard. Or maybe that's how he woke up. At that moment, he really didn't care how it had happened. "Xan? You can open your eyes now."

When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was slightly less naked than Oz. He was wearing a condom. "Where..."

"The motel. The check-in clerk gave it to me with the room key."

"Ah." His eyes were drawn to his cock, encased in latex, glistening with lube. "So, did you have plans for that? Because I have some ideas, but they require your permission. And cooperation."

In an instant, he had a very willing ass slowly engulfing his erection. "An idea like this?"

Xander's thoughts flew back to the last time he was in the same position. Flat on his back, warm body writhing above him. Now, of course, everything was vastly superior to the previous experience. Even the sounds of kitties outside the door, scratching and crying to be let in where the action was, added to his list of things to contemplate in the future. Memories to keep for future reference.

"Hey, are you still with me?" Oz's soft voice broke into his reverie. And then Oz flexed. Instead of answering, Xander gripped Oz's forearms and locked eyes with him. Oz smiled softly. "I'll take that as a yes." Up. Down. Squeeze. Release. And follow the eyes.

Now the eyes trailed down to Oz's own erection, bobbing between them, bouncing on Xander's abdomen. Under Oz, he watched himself slide in and out, vanishing and reappearing. "You're a magician, Oz."

Oz ignored him, moving his hands to stroke and tug his own way to climax.

Xander watched in rapt fascination. It was him in Oz, nudging and causing Oz to sigh and smile. At that moment, Xander was struck with the familiar desire to be able to suck his own cock -- but, this time around, it was because that flexibility would mean that he could have his mouth wrapped around Oz. Since that wasn't a possibility, Xander took Oz's hands in his own. "Let me help?"

And then it was his hands caressing the length of pale flesh, and his stomach being coated with Oz's warm emissions. And his cock following the example just set by the warm body moving around him.

Carefully, Oz climbed off Xander and removed the condom. "I'll be back in a second." Gently, he kissed Xander. "Don't go anywhere?"

As if that was an option. Nope, Xander just wanted to catch his breath and make sure all the images were properly imprinted in his memory.

Barely a minute later, Oz was back. His eyes were caught by Xander, tracing patterns in the pool of semen on his abdomen. "Oh, hey, let me get you a towel."

Absently, Xander shook his head. And carefully traced Oz's name in the puddle before deliberately licking all traces of fluid from his finger. And then he ran his fingers over his own penis, gathering the residual cum left there after condom removal. Right before reaching over to Oz and writing the first letter of his name on Oz's stomach and placing the finger on Oz's mouth for cleaning.

"There. X marks the spot."

"Um... Okay." Oz contemplated the sticky substance drying on their bodies. "So do you want the first shower?" Xander shook his head. "So I'll go first." Again, Xander shook his head. "Together?"

Xander leaned up and kissed Oz, carefully avoiding smudging his work. "No showers until tonight." And then he pulled on a t-shirt, carefully smoothing it over his stomach and grinning at the way it clung to the wet spot.

Oz sighed. "You know, now I'm going to be smelling me on you and you on me all day. I won't be able to think about anything all day other than what I can do to you and let you do to me."

Xander continued to smile. "That's the plan."