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Kissing Ass

Rating: NC-17
Timeline: iThrough BTVS season 3
Author's notes: Oz/Xander for Glossing. A thousand thanks to Piedmargaret for an amazing beta, and the inspiration for the title.
Feedback: Mer

"Oz, man, don't think I'm not cool with the traditional jumping through the hoops. I just don't see how this is gonna help."

Xander paused. Oz walked around him twice, surveying his handiwork. Once more and he could curl up and go to sleep. But Xander was not making with the canine humor because he wished to retain his body parts, and who knew when Magic Guilt Girlfriend, now with overcompensation, might be listening. New Willow scary.

Um, and he was sorry.

"Although now that you fail to answer, I realize I don't have to get it. Because it's you doing the forgiving. It's like Zen. Don't talk some more and maybe I'll achieve enlightenment. You could whack me across the shoulders?" he added hopefully.

He really was sorry. He liked Oz, who was cool and a boy, and yet never felt the need to put Xander in a half Nelson. Plus he wasn't dead, snotty, British, or drunk.

He hadn't made out with Willow because she was Oz's girlfriend. He'd made out with Willow because all of a sudden it was like their skin turned into magnets and eye contact was a full-contact sport. Plus, imminent death. Oh, those wacky hormones.

But he should have NOT made out with Willow because she was Oz's girlfriend, and Oz was kind of a friend. Xander was pretty sure the guy code frowned on poaching, but he'd never actually had to deal with that part, since the last real guy friend he'd had was vamp-dust before they'd gotten past playing Three Minutes in the Closet to actual dating.

Still, Xander was willing to make it up to Oz. That wasn't the problem. It was just that Xander skills involved talking. Oz's habit of long comfortable silences made Xander... uncomfortable. Plus he was naked and tied to a chair in Giles' office. With its big glass door. If Giles walked in, or Snyder, or God, Cordelia, there was absolutely no way he could explain what they were doing. He didn't even know what they were doing. Well, he was groveling. And Oz was apparently going for the knot-tying merit badge. But what those things had to do with each other, or naked, was unclear. Also chilly.

Maybe Oz had called Giles or Snyder or Cordelia. Maybe tonight was wolf night and Oz was gonna haul the desk chair into the cage and have him for a midnight snack. Xander tried to decide which was worse. How mad was he? Oz looked... impassive. That narrowed it down.

"I'm really sorry," he offered again.

"Yeah," Oz answered.

Xander flinched. Shut up, he told himself. No matter how many times you do that he's not gonna say 'it's okay,' because it isn't, and Oz doesn't say words he doesn't mean.

Must be nice.

Oz tweaked one final rope and stepped back. "Cool."

Xander was glad he'd been smart enough to slump down a bit before Oz really got going 'cause his arms and ribs were wrapped up tight to the chair back. Wrists and ankles were bound to the chair arms and legs, and for reasons known only to Oz and God, Xander was sitting on a book. One Giles would doubtless have to burn. The one behind his lower back could perhaps get away with mere fumigation.

"How do I look?"

"Good," said Oz. "Really... stationary."

"Sexy," Xander said dryly. He felt like a car up on blocks.

"Yeah," Oz said, and casually straddled Xander's lap.

"What?" Xander went to the instant replay. When had the conversation gone off the bridge and into the chasm below?

Oz, international man of few words, kissed him. The conversation bounced off a couple of rocks, flipped over, and burst into flames.

Xander didn't realise he was kissing Oz back until his hands tried to come up and help. Right, rope. Tied by Oz. Willow's boyfriend. Whose tongue was in his mouth. Shit. Xander really didn't learn from experience. He tried to pull back, but there was no place to go. He settled for jerking his chin to the left and talking out of the side of his mouth.

"Whoa! I get it. No kissing the taken people." Or boys, but that was a freak-out for later, in the privacy of his own denial.

Oz, unfazed, started sucking on Xander's exposed throat instead. Xander had a still more paranoid thought - What if Oz had called Willow to come find them together? Okay, a girl would be the more conventional revenge nookie choice, but under the circumstances Xander could see how he'd offer a certain two for one vengeance value.

Teeth. Ear. Teeth on ear. Tongue in ear. Air blown softly over now wet ear... Xander shivered and moaned. No, wait. "Willow!" he yelped.

Oz sat back a little, just enough for Xander to miss the warmth, and stripped off his own shirt. "She knows," he said.

Xander tried on a couple of expressions: shocked, surprised... confused worked. Go with the classics. "Knows what?"

"What I'm doing."

There was a fine line between 'I deserve this' and 'now you're just dicking me around,' Xander thought. "You wanna let me in on it?"

Oz slid smoothly forward so that his crotch rested up against Xander's cock. "She had you. I get you. We're even." He started undoing the buttons of his fly. Xander licked his lips then tried to pretend he hadn't. Chronic Dry Lip Disease, tragic case.

Oz smelled of cinnamon gum and hair dye. Xander swallowed. "That... seems fair."

Oz's dick sliding up against his felt... right. Smooth, hot, soft over hard. Xander didn't close his eyes.

Oz had a tattoo. Of course he did; he was cool band guy. Xander wanted to lick it, but he couldn't quite reach. He licked Oz's collarbone instead. Oz's fingers found his nipples, high and tight, crept down to his balls and God, that's what playing the guitar was good for, huh? Xander gasped. There was Oz tongue in his mouth again, Oz teeth tugging at his lower lip.

Xander felt... like he did when the silence got long. Wasn't it his turn to do something? His hands were out of commission, unless Oz was into ineffectual flapping motions. With Oz riding his thighs, raising his hips only lifted him further out of reach. All Xander could do was kiss: Oz's mouth, when he could get it, otherwise a confusion of cheekbones, jaw line, soft spiky hair. And then not even... Oz was sliding down along his body, grazing his painfully hard cock along the way, and Xander's lips closed on nothing.

Oz looked up at him, eyes burning like they did on stage, and when he licked his lips, Xander thought he knew what was coming. Cordelia had done this once, but somehow the words 'You owe me big time, buster,' weren't as sexy as you'd think.

But the only thing that closed around Xander's cock was Oz's fist. Which was nice, sure, but Xander was already a connoisseur of the whole hand experience. And Oz wasn't even jerking so much as lifting him up and... oh God. Could you do that? You can't do that!

Oz's tongue was in his ass. Was there even a name for that? Xander had never heard of it, not even in dirty jokes. Was he panicking? He was panicking. Oz's tongue was in his ASS. And it felt... way too good. Xander squirmed. He was whimpering like a girly man, trying to thrust his cock up into Oz's fist to get a little friction, anything to counteract the waves of helpless pleasure. Xander was writhing now. The chair creaked. How was he gonna explain the broken chair to Giles? Emergency stake supplies?

Xander realized the unbearably good vibrations coming in his direction were grunts of pleasure from Oz, and even muffled words. "Good... hot... oh yeah..." Not exactly Shakespeare, but still, more commentary from the wolfman than he'd usually get in a week. Xander felt his balls tighten. He was so close. If Oz would just give him one good stroke... the incredible feelings disappeared.

Xander looked down at Oz through a haze of lust. "Why'd you stop... oh." Oz was kneeling on the floor, grinning, with a handful of come. He wiped his hand clean on the discarded shirt and stood up, fastening his jeans.

"You're just gonna leave me like this?" Okay, it was a squeak. But a dignified squeak.

"Sorry, Xand-man. Revenge." Oz leaned over and cut one of the cords. "You'll get out, one way or the other." He pocketed the knife and walked out, carefully closing the door behind him.

The other? Right. Giles finding him tied up naked in his desk chair in the morning. Which was in no way an attractive thought. Xander wondered what it was like for Oz, waking up naked with Giles for company after a night of wolfy fun. Giles probably really dug Oz. Quiet people were a librarian's wet dream, right? And where had Oz learned that tongue thing anyway? Not from Willow, that's for sure.

Xander struggled with the ropes. Maybe he could at least get a hand free.