the pearl

Just Because

"I'm okay
You have that effect on me
But I need you desperately"

When Oz left Sunnydale for the second time, he didn't actually get very far.

He had considered going back to Tibet, but Devon's aunt had a small farm/commune/refuge/colony in one of the canyons nearby, and, when it came down to it, it was just easier to move there than to hitch all those different rides all the way back.

He kept in touch with Giles, as he had before, and when, this time around, it grew into something more than the occasional dinner — it just seemed like the natural thing to do.

Natural enough to share a bed and have long discussions about the future, but, like all things Sunnydale-related, unnatural enough to keep it quiet, away from where former girlfriends and dutiful charges might find out.

It wasn't a proper relationship, with hearts and flowers and commitment ceremonies. But it did all right.


They once spent a week in L.A., Giles shopping for obscure occult items and Oz checking out places to sell Aunt Eva's organic produce. Oz timed it to be there when Devon's new band was performing, and persuaded Giles to join him. They sat in the center of the club — not too close and not too far — and watched the band.

Giles was watching Devon.

Oz was watching Giles.


Devon came to see them after the show, grinning and gleaming on a post-performance high. He stayed for a few minutes, talking to Oz about the performance, about the new band, about everything, a conversation in few words and more gestures.

Giles went to get the three of them beers, and when he returned, Devon's eyes caught his and held them for a few seconds.

Oz noticed that Giles didn't touch his beer for a few minutes after that.


Devon invited them over to his place afterwards. He kept on saying it was nothing big, and, for once, he wasn't exaggerating. In the small bungalow in Silverlake, in the tiny living room with patterned wallpaper and an abused shag carpet, sat Devon, two of his bandmates, a couple from Seattle who were the final remains of the grunge scene, and Giles and Oz. Giles, surrounded by people at least twenty years younger than him talking about the latest bands, should have felt out of place, as he had many times before.

But, instead, he stroked the back of Oz's neck, and listened. And if his hand trembled a little when Devon spoke, he did not notice.

Oz, however, did.


Giles went into the kitchen to find something to drink, and Oz followed him, watching him carefully as he got a few beers out of the fridge.

As Giles fumbled with the bottle opener, Oz finally spoke. "I've seen you looking at Devon," he said, his voice low. "I think you should go for it."

Giles dropped the bottle opener, not knowing what to say. He looked back at Oz.

Oz had the faintest of smiles on his face. "Devon's noticed it too — otherwise he would've just invited me."

Giles stared at Oz for a few seconds longer, blushing faintly in embarrassment before finally finding something to say. "And you...?"

Oz shrugged, still faintly smiling. "Devon's not exactly unexplored territory. But I do admit to never having watched before."

The words sent the blood in Giles' cheeks straight down to his cock. "Never..." He swallowed dryly, looking at Oz. "Watched?"

Oz smiled and leaned forward, kissing Giles softly. "Go for it," he whispered. "I want to see it."


Devon was alone in the living room when they came back. He gestured towards the hallway. "They got work tomorrow," he said as he took the beer from Giles. His eyes traced their way up Giles's body, stopping for few seconds on the faintly defined bulge in Giles's trousers before sliding up to trap his eyes, a smirk on his glossy lips.

"O-oh..." Giles stammered, unable to look away. He stumbled as he walked to his seat on the sofa next to Oz, tripping over apparently nothing.

Devon watched him, his eyes glinting under a smudge of black eyeliner. Giles squirmed in his seat, and he smiled sharply. He took a long swallow of beer, and Giles was riveted by his throat as he swallowed.

Devon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when he finished, and Giles leaned forward slightly, watching his hand drag across his lips, pulling them along like a rough kiss. Devon looked at him, raised his eyebrows, then turned to Oz. "Y'know, you always said he was hot, but I never believed you."

Giles stared at Oz, his mouth open slightly in astonishment, and Oz just smiled. "Told you," he said softly.

Devon looked at Giles again, his eyes so intent that Giles began to think he had a stain on his shirt or a sign saying "Take Me" above his head or anything other than him to merit such a look. After a few seconds, that seemed to go on for hours and also seemed to take place under a heat lamp, Devon looked back at Oz. "Doesn't do much, though, does he?"

"I think you scared him," Oz replied, his voice so relaxed that Giles thought that all the tension Oz should have had was being channelled into him.

Devon laughed and leaned forward, his face close to Giles'. "Is that it?" he asked. "Did I scare you?"

Giles blinked, his hands clenching slightly as the scent of Devon rose up between them. Beer and cigarettes, of course, but there was this scent under all that, this scent like cloves and cinnamon, like a spicy-sharp-sweet dessert laid out before him, just waiting for Giles to take a single bite.

"I dunno, Oz. He looks — mmmf!"

Giles quickly silenced Devon, grabbing his cheeks firmly in his palms and pulling him in for a kiss, rough, manly, scraping against the faint hint of stubble on Dev's cheeks. Devon tasted of beer and overly salted french fries and Giles pulled him closer, pressing Devon's body against him, bigger than Oz's misleadingly birdlike frame, but still thin, supple, young. Devon slipped out of his chair, landing on his knees in front of Giles, between Giles' legs, his hands wrapping around Giles' waist.

Devon pulled away after a few seconds, and looked over at Oz, his wet and swollen mouth breaking into a grin. "Shit, man, you were right..." he said, his voice rough with lust.

Oz smiled softly and stretched just a little, making himself comfortable on the couch. "Told you," he repeated, his eyes wide.

Devon laughed, but was interrupted by Giles kissing him again, forcefully, his hands sliding down to cup Devon's ass, pulling him even closer against his body, rubbing against him in a grind that was slow and sweet, but dominant all the same. Devon's hands crawled up Giles's back, reaching up to his shoulders to pull him close, lightly playing with the small curls that twisted on Giles's neck.

Giles broke the kiss this time, looking at Devon hungrily. "Bedroom?"


Devon's bedroom was garishly painted, each wall a different color and all four covered in posters. The floor was covered in clothing, magazines, and the occasional dish.

All three paid no attention.

Devon slid onto his bed, pushing aside the rumpled bedspread and pillows, and pulled Giles down on top of him, kissing him frantically as Giles's hands abused his body, groping, pinching, climbing all over.

Giles pulled Devon's hands above his head, pinning his thin wrists down with one strong hand, and licked his way up Devon's neck, making Devon whimper and thrust up against Giles's leg. Giles chuckled against Devon's throat and spared a glance away, looking for Oz.

Oz sat in a chair in the corner, seemingly perfectly relaxed, except for the glitter of lust in his eyes. He shared a look with Giles, gave a faint nod, then leaned back as Giles smiled and began ravaging Devon with kisses.

Devon thrust up, pressing as much as he can against Giles's thighs, feeling Giles rub against his stomach. He moaned, grinding harder, then whimpered when Giles pulled away, leaving him alone on the bed. "Dude...what?"

"Turn over," Giles said, his voice so rough and low that Devon had to look to see that it was still the same man he remembered from Sunnydale High's library. "I want to fuck you."

At that Devon had to sit up, staring at Giles. He always had a view of the man, and it involved stammering and long words and all that stuff, and never ever ever the word "fuck". Devon looked at the man standing above him, looked at the hard-on that was at eye-level, trapped within a boring pair of khakis, and Devon didn't think he could be any harder than he was.

Until Giles repeated himself. "I," he said, lifting up Devon's chin to look up at him. "Want to fuck you."

Devon blinked a few times, his eyes wide, then looked towards Oz. Oz smiled reassuringly, and Devon smiled back, just for a second, before pulling off his t-shirt.


Giles was not a young man, and Devon knew this. However, Giles was also not an average man, and whereas Devon had expected rolls of fat and hair in strange places, he had not expected scars and muscles.

Not overly defined muscles, and covered in a thin layer of padding, but definitely there, strong and firm and being used to pull Devon's body against them, rubbing against Giles's body as Giles touched him, sucking on Devon's collarbone as his hands roamed. Devon's hands matched Giles's in their exploration, tracing over scars and sliding over muscles. Giles groaned as Devon's hands slid against his cock, pulling at the foreskin gently.

Giles pushed Devon back down onto the bed. Devon scrabbled in his nightstand, pulling out a small bottle of lube. He handed it to Giles, who smiled, opened it, and poured a small amount in his palm before grabbing hold of Devon's cock.

Devon screeched, his hips thrusting wildly as the cool slickness surrounded him, then groaned when the other hand slipped between his legs, a lubed finger pushing its way in. He thrust back against it, and he thought he heard Giles chuckle as he added a second.


Giles's fingers were thick and deep and rubbing right up against that place. Giles's hand was slick and hot and tight around his cock, jerking up and down over and over while his fingers stroked ever-so-slowly, and...

Devon shot all over Giles's hand. Giles laughed and made him lick it off while he removed his fingers. Once his hand was clean, Giles used it to hold Devon down while he pushed himself inside.


Devon's back was golden, shining in the faint light from his bedroom lamp and glimmering with sweat. Giles bent down and licked along Devon's shoulder blade, still thrusting into him. Devon was a screamer, and he moaned loudly as Giles shifted his thrusts, going from shallow to deeper.

Devon rocked back, his hands and knees pressed down into the mattress, his head falling down between his arms as Giles continued, ruthless. He occasionally turned his head just enough to look at Oz, who appeared to have never moved in the entire time this had gone on. Devon could only gasp and groan and watch as Giles continued to fuck him, thrusting against him over and over.

Devon had gotten hard, come, gone soft, and was hard again, all within the span of the hour in which Giles had apparently become semi-hard, then hard, then was fucking him. And Devon's hard-on was like steel and he knew he was gonna come a second time tonight ("At least!" a little voice in the back of his head was also whimpering.) and Giles just kept doing what he had been doing. In. Out. In. Out.

"Fuck," he cried, his voice rough. "Just come already."

Giles laughed and bent over just enough to whisper in Devon's ear. "Now?" he asked, low and darkly, making Devon's eyes roll up in his head and his entire body clench in pleasure.

"Oh God..." Devon moaned, speeding up the movement of his hips, praying that Giles would speed up along with them.

His prayer was granted, and Giles's thrusts grew faster and faster, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over and over, and Devon fell onto one arm, his other hand clumsily reaching down to jerk at his own cock.

And like a flash of lightning, like the sudden white-hot glare of a spotlight, time stopped, stilled, and Devon came hard, bucking and crying and thrusting over and over into his hand while Giles gripped his hips painfully hard and continued his own vicious thrusts. Devon fell onto the bed with a final jerking sob and he felt Giles come deep inside him, moaning and biting down on his shoulder blade.


The clock read 1:43 and Devon barely moved when Oz climbed into bed with them. He heard the faint wet slapping sounds of a blowjob, the suck and pull and the even fainter quickened breaths and faint whimpers that he remembered as being Oz's. Another faint moan, the sound of someone swallowing, and then there was a third body lying on the bed.

Devon half-opened his eyes, looking towards the two people on the bed. "You two good?" he asked sleepily.

Giles chuckled and Oz smiled. "We're fine, Dev," Oz said, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "You should sleep."

Devon mumbled affirmation, rolled over, and was quickly out.

This Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at And you can feedback her at