"You alone across a floor...you and me and nothing more...you're the great mistake I never made..." -- David Bowie
Giles looked at the large wooden doors before him, nervously swallowed, then opened one slowly, peering in before fully entering.
The long cathedral-like hallway was filled with people, laughing families, somber men in dark clothing, some with priest collars, young men and women with large grins and zeal in their eyes. Giles weaved his way through the crowds, spotting a solitary man leaning against a wall, looking up at the crossbeams that made their way across the large ceiling.
Giles cleared his throat as he approached him. "Oz?" he said quietly.
Oz looked down, a faint smile on his face as he recognized the older man. "Giles," he said calmly. "Imagine seeing you here."
Giles smiled proudly. "I wasn't about to miss your graduation..." He held up a small package. "I brought a gift." He handed it to Oz. "It's a watch. A tad too traditional, but I had heard from a few of your instructors that you were notorious for being late..."
Oz's smile grew wider and he looked down at the ground for a second, sheepish. "Thanks." He looked back up at Giles. "So are you here for awhile or...?"
"Oh, I came for this. I'm supposed to meet with some of the Elders, give a progress report in person, but, primarily, I'm here to see you."
"I'm flattered." Oz looked around, surveying the crowds, then looked back at Giles. "So are you at the Council Chambers just to meet me here or are you hoping that one of the other Watchers'll recognize you and start trying to share memories of the 'good old days'?"
Giles paused, looking at the younger man oddly, then shook her head slowly. "Want to leave?"
They found their way to a small curry shop between Oz's flat and the Academy. Giles stirred his thick oily tea while Oz picked through his samosas, both of them sitting uncomfortably in silence.
Finally, Giles spoke. "I spoke to some of your instructors before I came to see you..."
Oz looked up, a piece of crust between his fingers. "Oh?" he asked before popping it into his mouth.
Giles nodded. "They..." He paused for a second. "They said that...despite your 'unconventional habits' and 'inability to follow procedure,' you were one of the best students they had seen..."
"They just like anyone who didn't learn Latin via public school. The pronunciation is terrible." Oz pulled off another piece of crust. "And that whole 'killing vampires before coming to the Academy' thing was rather appealing..."
Giles raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can't deny that your previous experience was a benefit..."
"You remember the final test, right? The Council finds a couple of weak vampires, locks them in a room, and then sends a bunch of nervous trainees in to kill them?"
Giles frowned. "I...believe they started that after I finished my training..."
Oz's eyebrows quirked upward for a second. "Huh," he said quietly. "Well, anyways, there we are, two starving, skinny vampires, a bunch of scared witless Watchers-in-training, and me." He ate another piece of crust. "I don't think the Council was really paying attention...we were in there for a good twenty minutes after we killed both of them..."
Giles chuckled. "Yes, well..." His voice trailed off for a second. "You've always come up with something...unexpected..." He stared at the younger man for a second, then quickly took a drink of his tea, his mouth suddenly dry.
Oz looked at Giles, a faint, serene, maddening smile on his lips. He said nothing as he bit into his samosa.
Giles gulped down more of the tea, not noticing the harsh taste, trying to prevent himself from licking his lips, preventing himself from looking at the shorter man with the red blonde hair and the chipped black nail polish...
"Those're hardly regulation..." Giles said, pointing at Oz's nails.
Oz looked down at his hands, smiling. "Yeah, Father Rafelli had a daily complaint about them, but Dr. Li-Shang actually gave me a few bottles every once in awhile...she liked my choices..."
Giles blinked. "Father Rafelli is still there?"
Oz looked at him, a surprised look on his face. "You had him too?"
Giles looked down, blushing slightly. "He...had a problem with my earring..."
The two man laughed, then caught each other's eye. Their laughter stopped, and they stared, not knowing what to say next, not knowing where to go. Giles looked away, embarrassed, not letting himself meet Oz's piercing eyes.
Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Oz spoke up. "Giles..." he said softly, calmly.
Giles continued to look away, unable to confront him. "Yes?"
"Let's go back to my place..." Oz stood, dropping a small pile of pound coins onto the table, then heading towards the door. After a few seconds, Giles followed.
Oz flicked the lights on in his flat, the small lamps with the bright blue lampshades creating an almost eerie effect. Giles looked around the single room apartment, somewhat dingy, faded, but entirely Oz in style.
Oz set his keys down on the nearby table and gestured towards the room. "Make yourself at home," he said, with a hint of wryness. "There's soda in the fridge if you want it..."
Giles shook his head. "No, no, I'm all right..." He carefully sat down on the small couch. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. Large, slightly tattered posters for obscure bands. An "entertainment center", made of cinderblocks and plywood, the tv, vcr, and stereo surrounded by stacks of nearly teetering videotapes, cds, and cassettes. The stacks of books in one corner, a mixture of abused paperbacks and thick leather-bound books, next to a leaking beanbag. The chains attached to the other corner, carefully bolted to the wall, the paint stripped, large claw marks over the wood.
Oz sat down on the couch, close to Giles, but comfortably distant. "So this is my place," he said.
"Oh, yes," Giles said, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. "It's...it's very nice..." He pointed toward the chains on the wall. "You...lock yourself up during...those nights?"
Oz shrugged. "Only when I have to be here..." He looked at the chains, his face expressionless. "Christian, Alexa, and I tend to go out to one of the larger parks, you know, walk in while the park's open, leave in the morning...but, sometimes..." An faint look of disgust flickered over his face as he continued to look at the chains. "I hate it, you know. Being locked up...like a stray dog..."
Giles looked down at Oz's hands, clenched tightly in his lap. "Oz..." He sighed. "I never wanted to lock you up at nights...but we didn't know what else to do..."
Oz closed his eyes, biting on his lip, then slowly let out a long breath. "I know..." he said, looking at Giles. "It was what you had to do."
Giles reached over, lightly touching the younger man's shoulder. "Oz...I...." He searched for the words. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "When you left Sunnydale, I...I missed your conversation..."
Oz looked up at Giles, his eyes wide.
"And...later...when all I had was the occasional letter..." Giles took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, then put them back on. "I realized that I...missed more than conversation..."
Oz stared at the older man for a few minutes, then sighed, looking down at the ground.
Giles' heart sank. "I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean...I..." He sighed heavily. "I should go--"
His words were interrupted by Oz's lips on his mouth, kissing him ravenously, a starving man locking onto his lips, a tongue sliding between them as small, delicate hands stroked his face.
And just as sudden, it was gone, Oz sitting back against the other side of the couch, his sharp eyes watching Giles.
Giles looked back at Oz, a bit sheepish. "Oz, I..." he trailed off, unable to think of words.
"I know." Oz's voice was firm, strong, definitive. He moved closer. "I..." He stroked Giles' cheek. "I missed you too." He leaned back over, gently removing Giles' glasses, and kissed him, sliding against his body, arms wrapping around Giles' neck.
Giles' arms slid around Oz's waist, pulling the smaller man on top of his lap, still kissing, still touching. Oz arched his back slightly, pressing his chest against Giles', pressing his hips against the hardness below him.
After a few endless seconds, Giles broke the kiss. "Oz..." he said breathlessly. "Oz...where is this going?"
"I think it's pretty obvious..." Oz said, rubbing himself against Giles. His hand started sliding down, moving its way down Giles' stomach. "Giles...." he said in a whisper.
Giles grabbed his hand. "Rupert," he said in a rough whisper.
Oz blinked. "What?"
Giles took Oz's hand and put it between his legs, rubbing Oz's hand against his cock. "My name is Rupert..."
Oz smiled, a sharp, feral smile. "Rupert..." he purred, leaning in for another rough kiss, rubbing and squeezing Giles' erection through his pants.
Giles leaned Oz over, dipping him back, pressing him against the couch, thrusting against him slowly. Oz thrust back, pressing as much of his body against Giles as he could, sliding his hands under the vest, under the shirt, under the undershirt, skin against skin, fingers sliding through chest hair, stroking his nipples.
Giles shuddered, groaning into Oz's mouth. "Oz..." he said roughly. "Oz...please..."
Oz chuckled against Giles' neck. "We can go to my bed..." he said, alternating words with kisses.
Giles' head fell down against Oz's shoulder, groaning softly. "Yes..." he whispered. "Yes..."
Oz chuckled again and wriggled out from under Giles, sliding off of the couch. He stood up in front of the couch, in front of Giles, and slowly pulled off his shirt, enjoying the sensation of the knit shirt against his sensitive skin.
Giles sat up, staring at Oz hungrily, his eyes tracing over Oz's thin body.
Oz smiled at Giles, a slow lusty smile as he undid his pants, sliding down his shorts along with them, leaving him naked save his chipped black nail polish and a smirk.
Giles groaned, standing, pulling Oz towards him, sliding his hands up and down pale skin. Oz laughed into the kiss, the tweed of Giles' pants tickling as it rubbed against his thighs. Oz reached down, unbuckling Giles' belt, unzipping his trousers, sliding his hands inside, fingers stroking, squeezing, dipping down to swirl around the head, and then gone.
Oz pulled Giles towards the bed, dragging him by his pants, throwing him on the bed with an exaggerated toss. Oz straddled him, quickly stripping the older man before lying on top of him, Oz's thin frame somewhat cooler, comfortable, exquisite.
Giles drew Oz's face towards his own. "Oz..." he said breathlessly.
Oz stroked his face. "Rupert..." he said, leaving gentle kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids.
"Please..." Giles whispered. "Please..."
Oz grinned, slowly kissing his way down Giles' body. "Please what?" he said, his breath against Giles' thigh.
"Please..." Giles whispered again. "I need you..."
Oz came back up to kiss Giles, leaning over him, chest against chest. Oz looked down at Giles, his eyes sparkling. "Rupert..." he said in a soft voice, stroking his cheek. "Do you want me?"
Giles closed his eyes for a second, shuddering softly, then opened them, looking directly at Oz, tears sparkling in his eyes. "Yes..." he whispered. "Please..."
Oz smiled, a sweet loving smile, then leaned down to kiss Giles, a slow, tender kiss. He shifted, reaching over to a small cabinet next to the bed, grabbing a small bottle of something before returning to Giles. "Lift your legs," Oz said quietly.
Giles shifted on the bed, then groaned loudly when he felt coolness being spread against him, a finger entering him, then two, then three, opening him, preparing him. His head dipped back, inhaling deeply, smelling Oz on the pillows. He looked at the young man kneeling between his legs, and moved his hips, pushing against Oz's fingers. And then the fingers were gone. Giles bit his lower lip, his body writhing against the rumpled bedding.
Oz chuckled low in his throat, staring down at Giles with glittering lust-narrowed eyes, stroking himself with his lubricated hand, moving closer to Giles, between his bent legs, kneeling, lifting up Giles' hips.
Slowly, tenderly, Oz entered Giles, his eyes closed tightly, trying not to lose control, trying not to come instantly at the tight heat surrounding him. He felt Giles relax, lifting his hips higher, pushing back against Oz, forcing him deeper. Oz was close, so close, but he couldn't, not yet.
Oz leaned down, capturing Giles' lips with his own, scrabbling his hands over Giles' chest, his hips continuing their steady rhythm. One hand reached down and gently wrapped itself around Giles, stroking him in time with his thrusts.
Giles groaned, his hips moving faster and faster against Oz, clutching the bedsheets in his hands. Oz speeded up, his head falling back against his shoulders, his eyes blissfully closed. Giles watched Oz, capturing the memory in his mind, watching until his eyes closed tightly as he came, spilling over Oz's hand, over his stomach, coming for Oz. And Oz was coming too, spilling into him, his face twisted in ecstasy, before finally slumping against Giles' stomach, the come smearing on his face, marking him.
After a few seconds of heavy breathing, calming down, Oz slowly slipped out of Giles, moving over to his side, wrapping his arms around Giles. Oz rested his head against Giles' chest, hearing his heartbeat.
Giles wrapped an arm around the smaller man. "Oz..." he said, his voice still breathy. "I..."
"I know..." Oz replied softly, his throat vibrating against Giles' chest. "I know..."
The two men fell asleep, holding each other tightly.
Giles woke up slowly. His arm stretched across the bed, and found only cool sheets. He lifted his head, frowning. "Oz?" he called out softly. He sat up, still looking around, peering through the fuzziness. He stood, reaching for his pants, and after pulling them on, padded over to the couch, searching for his glasses.
He heard a noise from the kitchen area, and found his glasses, pulling them on. When the world focused, he saw Oz, a large suitcase sitting on the kitchen table, filled with a variety of objects, clothing to handcuffs. "Oz?" he asked again, moving closer to the young man.
Oz looked up at him, his eyes bleak. "Hi," he said softly.
Giles pointed to the suitcase. "What's going on?"
Oz looked down at the suitcase, sighed, then looked back at Giles. "Christian's in trouble," he said calmly. "I have to help him."
Giles looked at him in shock. "What?" he asked. "What do you mean you have to help him?"
Oz looked down at the ground. "He's my alpha, Giles."
Giles shook his head. "You're a Watcher. You can't just...take off to help someone..."
Oz frowned. "Giles," he said, closing up the suitcase. "I'm a werewolf first. And before I can even think about being a Watcher, I have to help my alpha."
Giles walked to the table, concerned. "Oz...you can't just leave..." He waved his arm around. "What about your apprenticeship?"
"I already called the Council. In cases of family emergency, apprenticeships can be postponed." He locked the suitcase and lifted it off of the table. "Giles...I have to go..."
Giles looked down at the ground. "I..." He looked up. "I don't know what to say..." He searched for the words. "I..."
Oz set the suitcase on the ground and walked over to Giles. "I know," he said softly. He caressed Giles' cheek. "I'll come back to you," he said in a whisper. "I promise."
Giles closed his eyes tightly, trying to block tears, then wrapped Oz in a long hug. Oz returned the hug before pulling back slightly for a bittersweet soft kiss.
It took all of Oz's resolve to pull away, but, eventually, he did, picking up his suitcase and walking out the door.