“Go all over the fucking world to find your inner beast and you end up in LA?” Devon sprawled on Oz’s couch, ready to make himself at home even though he hadn’t seen Oz in a long while. They’d run into each other at a promo party put together by a public relations girl Oz knew. Same old scene -- a party that had lots of pretty people that didn’t know each other, but looked good grouped together both for pictures and for the select suits for whom they’d been procured. Devon was staying somewhere Oz hadn’t heard of, and Oz had observed that his own apartment would likely be a vast improvement.

“I like it.” Oz cocked his head to the side. “I don’t belong here, but then again no one belongs here. Gives us all common ground.”

“All about the communit-ay of freaks,” Devon drawled. He grinned, and Oz’s expression lightened.

“Something like that. Beer?”

“Water,” Devon said easily. “Gotta watch the pipes. Can’t afford the whole morning-after raspy-ness. Don’t smoke anymore either. That shit will fuck up your voice like nothing else.”

“Sure thing.” Oz pulled out two bottles from the refrigerator, and noted with some interest the slight tremors of his hands. It wasn’t like he ran into someone he knew from that Sunnydale period of his life very often, and certainly no one on the level of Devon. He figured it was to be expected.

“So you here to join the freaks, or just take pictures from a safe distance?” Oz asked when he returned to the room.

“Neither, man,” Devon said. “I’m here to finish these gigs, meet with a couple of people who want stuff from me, and maybe get laid.”

“That does sound like a productive trip.” Oz put his beer carefully down on the side table. “You got someone special in mind for that last item?”

Devon took a long draw on his water and smiled slightly. “Always do.”

“Right. Because all the girls you messed with in high school rated so high on the selectivity scale.”

“I didn’t even sleep around all that much in high school,” Devon said thoughtfully.

“It’s safe to say that ‘all that much’ is a relative phrase.” Oz glanced upwards, as though he was weighing the methods of measurement. “At least proportionately, you could even be said to have practiced restraint. You didn’t fuck all the people who wanted to fuck you.”

“Not by half,” Devon agreed amiably.

Oz picked up his beer and examined it. “Maybe you don’t mean it proportionately though. Could be that you’re saying that after considering the amount of people you’ve slept with since high school, the high school count pales in comparison.”

“You’re saying most of it,” Devon remarked. He put a foot up on the coffee table, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck lightly. “If I knew you’d been keeping such close tabs on how many people I’ve slept with, I would’ve asked you to analyze the numbers.” Devon raised his water bottle to Oz as though he were toasting him. “But maybe you already have.”

Oz let that one slide.

“Seeing anyone?” Devon asked with some interest.

“How’d we get on that topic?” Oz said, pushing his chair back and heading back into the kitchen.

“How’d we get on to the numbers of people I’ve fucked since high school?” Devon inquired reasonably, following Oz and easing up onto the counter of the free-standing island.

“Maybe I’m a little thrown by your sudden appearance on the scene,” Oz replied slowly. “Makes me chatty.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Devon said. “ ‘Cause you’re normally so talkative, right?”

“For all you know I hardly shut up about my life these days.” Oz pulled the cap off another bottle of beer. “Hell, it’s not often that I run into someone from the Dale going to people’s parties on this circuit. How’d you score an invite to that party?”

“Don’t know.” Devon paused. “I met a guy . . . I guess he knew someone.”

“That’s usually how it works.”

“Must say . . . it surprised me to see you there. See you there without any clothes on, I mean. But only for like a second.” Devon’s gaze flickered over Oz.

“I told you when I met you I was crazy,” Oz remarked mildly. “See, you’re all about the LA scene already.”

“Yeah. Got no problem with that part of it. Easier to get stuff done here, the way everyone mixes up business and pleasure. Easier when your priorities converge,” Devon explained in an offhand manner.

Oz stopped, rewound, replayed.

“Easier when your priorities converge. Priorities . . . Playing the club dates, seeing people who want stuff from you, getting laid.” He watched Devon, and Devon returned his gaze placidly.

Oz put down his beer. “You know, it’s funny how all the reminiscing started out about girls from high school . . . but now I’m noticing that we’re saying people . . . and not so much with the specific gender.”

“You were always the smart one in the group,” Devon said with a nod. “Problem solving and all that stuff.”

Oz leaned both hands on the counter heavily and shook his head. “Gotta hand it to you,” Oz said. “Been in town a few days, and you’ve already . . . ”

“Oh please,” Devon said impatiently. “I’m not that easy. You think I got to that party because . . . Christ, it’s just some guy that wants to fuck me. Nothing happened.”

“Okay,” Oz said abruptly. He turned to walk out of the kitchen, but Devon grabbed his wrist.

“You want me to leave? I can stay somewhere else. It’s not a problem.”

“No.”

Devon slid off the counter, holding on to Oz’s wrist, and took the other one when his feet were on the floor. “What do you want, Oz?”

“Well, pretty much . . . ” Oz began, but Devon ducked his head down gracefully and brushed his lips against Oz’s.

“You okay?” Devon asked when they drew apart a few minutes later. He regarded Oz calmly.

“Well, I am easily startled by unexpected tongue,” Oz said. “But yeah . . . I’m okay.”

“You okay with this?” Devon murmured as he reached out one hand and started unbuttoning Oz’s shirt.

“You think I’m one of the people in LA who want something from you?” Oz asked quietly.

“Nah. Maybe one of the people who wanted to fuck me in high school . . . ” Devon trailed off with a small grin. He paused and considered. “I mean more since high school. Not like in the high school. Though you might have wanted that too.”

“And that’s an interesting image,” Oz commented.

“I’ve seen better ones tonight,” Devon said, sliding Oz’s shirt off.

*~*~*~*~*The End*~*~*~*~*