A Nice Guy...

A Nice Guy, Romantic Crap, and Stifler

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairing: Oz/Stifler

Disclaimer: American Pie and American Pie II, with their related characters and themes, do not belong to me. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor. Everybody wave to Manor Cinemas Regal 16.

Wherein, well, there's a nice guy, romantic crap, and Stifler.

Jim was a loser. Loser. Kevin was a self-serving bastard. Finch was - - he didn't want to talk about Finch. And Oz, Oz was...a good guy. A nice guy. It was fucking disgusting.

It wasn't Heather's fault. Oz always had been a good guy. It was Heather's fault he was pussy-whipped, pathetic and castrated, which Oz called being in love.

Love.

Yeah, right.

Eat dick.

If love existed, it didn't make you whipped, poetic, and dickless. It made you stronger, not weaker. Oz loved Heather? Errrr! Wrong answer, douchebag. Heather loved Heather.

She'd even used to call him Chris. Only clueless fucks called him that. His name was Oz. He liked to be called Oz. Right there was indicator number one that Heather was a bitch.

He should know. He was the one who'd given Oz the fucking nickname. Jesus, that had been years ago.

The other guys were loser assholes. Jim and Kevin should just fucking give up and do each other. But Oz was a monster on the field, and he liked that. Not to mention Oz was great for catching chicks. Girls loved Oz. Maybe because he was - - shudder - - a good guy. Maybe because they saw the great potential for pussy-whipping. Maybe because he was so fucking gorgeous.

It was the body. It had to be the body. That bastard! Or the smile. Happy, cute, shy smile. Maybe the voice had something to do with it. Oz had a good bedroom voice.

He should know.

After Heather dumped Oz, he'd called. Called while Oz was drunk and horny and missing her. Faked a girl's voice. Got Oz to go for the phone sex Heather had kept trying.

It was supposed to be a joke. But he never told anybody about it. Never told Oz who'd really been on the other end of that call.

He'd never made another guy come before.

Oz, drunk and talking to a stranger, had ended up being a lot less shy than he'd been with Heather. "Stephanie" coaxed him into going for it, and he took the plunge. He'd done the deed, and he'd described it in pornographic detail.

Once he got started, all Stephanie had to do was urge him on, keep him talking. As it turned out, Oz was fucking hot.

He wondered if he could get Oz to do it again.

Yeah. He'd get Oz to do it again, to think Stephanie had it bad. He'd wait until Oz told the guys, wait until Oz thought it was real, and then step out from behind the curtain.

Yeah.

Yeah!

He borrowed his brother's voice scrambler, fiddling with it until he found a smooth, female voice. Oz wouldn't remember Stephanie's voice from the first call, and he wasn't faking that shrill girly sound again.

He called Oz's house. Asked to speak to Oz. "This is Stephanie. I called a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember me?" He waited a heartbeat, let Oz begin to stammer. "Are you alone?" Bingo. Comprehension dawned.

He had to do a little more flirting and teasing this time, since Oz was sober. But he had the upper hand: he'd gotten Oz to do it before.

And Oz liked the idea that he'd been so good the first time, Stephanie called back for more.

Oz was fucking cute when he was shy.

Stephanie called again, three nights later. She asked if Oz had been practicing for her. He said yes.

It was kind of weird to see Oz. Around town, at parties, wherever. He knew the way Oz moaned during orgasm now. He'd told Oz to come for him.

He didn't have a script or anything. He just talked Oz into jacking off, and made Oz describe it to him.

During the fourth call, he said, "I want to lick your balls." Oz groaned and said, "Oh, yeah."

He waited for Oz to mention Stephanie, but Oz never said anything about her, and the guys never referred to her on Oz's behalf. And he knew that if Oz had told the guys, they'd say something.

Why was Oz keeping quiet? It wasn't like he had a girlfriend or anything.

Oz started to wait for the calls. Look forward to them. To keep it fresh, he left the calls sporadic, phoning on different days at different times. He even called once when he knew that Oz was out, so Oz would come home and be told, "Stephanie called."

Oz tried to engage Stephanie in conversation. Wanted her to participate. She protested; this was Oz's show.

"You want to lick my balls?" Oz asked. "I remember...," he groaned, "...you said you want to lick my balls."

He wasn't sure what to say. No way on freaking Earth was he saying yes to that.

"I want you to," Oz said. He was panting. It sounded kind of...sexy. "I want you to lick my balls. Say you'll do it. Tell me you'll lick my balls for me."

He closed his eyes. Licked his lips. "I want to lick your balls."

"Oh, god, oh, god, oh..."

He listened to Oz come.

They went to the lake for a party. He saw Oz change into a bathing suit. He watched Oz flirt and dance and smile and have fun. He got drunk.

When Stephanie called, Oz wanted her to jerk off, too. No freaking way.

"I won't do it if you won't do it," Oz said softly.

"I don't want to do it. I want you to do it."

"You don't like to get off?" Oz asked. "Don't I make you hot?"

"No, Oz, you don't make me hot. That's why I call you-" He stopped short. Fucking out of character.

Oz laughed. "I don't make you hot? I'll have to try harder. Can I lick your nipples?"

He glanced down at himself.

"Take your shirt off," Oz said. His voice was soft. "Come on. Let me look at you."

What the hell. He took off his shirt.

"I want to lick your nipples," Oz said. "I want my tongue on them."

He touched one, pinching it, closing his eyes.

"I want to kiss you. Kiss your mouth."

Whoa. He froze. His hand dropped; his eyes opened. "Kiss?"

"Let me kiss you," Oz said.

They were veering a little off-course. "What about your dick?"

"It's hard," Oz said. "I want you."

"You want me?"

"I want you, I want you, I, oh, god, suck my cock, suck it..."

He knew what Oz looked like naked. He'd seen everything. Oz had a kick-ass body. Broad through the shoulders, pumped and cut. Sweet ass. Nice thick cock. Round balls. Oz never talked about that to Stephanie.

So Stephanie asked. "Is it big?"

"What?"

"Is it big?" he repeated. "What does it look like?"

"I don't know," Oz said with a nervous laugh. "It looks like a dick."

"Oz, I'm not putting it in my mouth until you tell me it looks good."

"In your mouth?" Oz repeated.

"What, you never put it in anybody's mouth before?"

"No, I, I mean yeah, I... You'd, you'd give me a blowjob?"

"Tell me what it looks like and I'll think about it."

"It's...it's a dick. I don't know. I'm circumcised," he offered.

"What does it look like when it's hard?"

"Oh. Uh... It, it gets bigger, and it stands up straight, and it gets kind of red. And, I don't know, somebody told me that the, the head made her mouth water. I can't believe I just told you that."

"You'll jerk off for me, but you can't tell me you have an attractive dick?"

"I think about you," Oz said. "I get myself off thinking about you. I want you. When I hear the phone ring, even when I'm not at home, it makes me hard."

"I make you hard."

"You make me hard," Oz agreed. "Will you let me touch you?"

"Where do you want to touch me?" he asked, testing.

"Everywhere."

"Skip the romantic crap and get practical."

"I want to touch your neck. Kiss it."

"You think that'll turn me on?"

"It turns me on."

"Kissing my neck turns you on?"

"Yeah."

"You're being romantic again."

"I don't want it to be just getting off."

"That's what we're doing. That's what you're doing. You're getting off, and I'm helping. Where the fuck have you been?"

"I care about you."

He hung up the phone, fast. Bastard! Shit. Freak. He was never calling Oz again.

He had dreams. Dreams where he said, "Suck me, beautiful," and Oz did just that. Dreams where he came in his sleep.

He was not going for that disgusting romantic crap. Oz could pull that with somebody else.

It was too bad, though. Oz had been kind of hot.

You know.

If you liked that kind of shit.

He had a party. Pussy-Oz and the gang showed up, but he managed to avoid them.

"Stephanie!"

He froze.

"Stephanie!"

He turned. Oz was standing on the living room table, arms spread. Pretty drunk. Everyone was staring, and laughing.

"Stephanie, I love you!" Oz toasted. "Call me!"

"Who's Stephanie?" someone nearby asked.

He'd wondered whether Oz had star-69. That question always led him to wonder whether Oz liked to sixty-nine, which tended to distract him from the point.

Kevin coaxed Oz down from the table. Later, Jim came around asking who Stephanie was.

He didn't know.

"Well, he says he loves her, and he wants to kiss her, and it doesn't sound like he's on the rebound. It sounds pretty serious. Only we've never heard of her."

"Do I look like a dating service directory to you?"

It turned out that there was a girl named Stephanie at the party, who was thrilled to find out that a gorgeous former jock was in love with her.

Tough shit for her.

Oz wasn't in love with her. Oz wasn't in love with anyone. Stephanie didn't exist. If Stephanie didn't exist, Oz's love for Stephanie couldn't exist. Stephanie was a joke, love was shit, roll credits.

As a joke, it wasn't half-bad. Not his best work, but decent. He'd made Oz fall in love with someone who didn't exist. Very cruel. He should be proud of himself.

Funny...he didn't feel proud.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Oz?"

"Steph?"

"Good guess."

"Steph. Hi. I missed you."

Loser. "You've been telling your friends about me?"

"No. Yes, but not, not... I...sort of."

"It was a simple question."

"I told them that there's someone I, someone I'm interested in. Smart, funny, very hot, named Steph."

"You think I'm - - I am pretty hot."

"You are," Oz agreed, sounding amused.

Nice recovery. "How's your dick?"

"It's okay. Sort of lonely. We miss you."

"Introduce it to your hand."

"I don't want to touch myself. I'd rather touch you."

"Again with the romantic shit! Would you just jerk off like a normal human being?"

"I locked the door."

"Good move."

"I'm on the bed."

"Getting better."

"I'm opening my jeans."

"Anything interesting in there?"

"There's a big, thick cock."

Someone was brave tonight. "Touch it."

"You want me to touch myself?"

"Yeah."

"It feels so good... Ooohhh... Yeah... It feels so good, Steph, it's so big, it's getting so hard..."

"Is it hard?"

"Yeah, it's hard, it's hard in my hand. I'm so turned on, Steph, I want you so much...oh..."

"Do it faster."

"I want you on top of me, kissing me, touching me. I want to be big and hard in your hand."

"Jack yourself, Oz."

"I want you to come with me, I want to make you come."

"Come for me."

"I'm going to come, I'm going to come on myself, I'm going to come all over my chest."

"Yes."

"I want you to suck it off me. Lick it off my chest."

He clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything.

"I want you, want you, oh god, oh, oh, oh..." A low, shuddering moan.

"God, you're so fucking hot."

Oz laughed. "Come on, don't make me laugh. I'm trying to be sexy for you."

"You are sexy."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"I think you're sexy, too."

"I am. I'm one sexy bitch."

"I know it." Oz sighed. "I'm not going to tell you that I love you, or anything, because I don't know if I do, and I don't want you to take off again. But, I like you a lot. I don't know, maybe it's... For years, growing up, I thought I knew what I wanted. And then I met Heather, and she was totally different, and then I thought that that's what I wanted. But she wasn't the perfect one for me, either. I don't know, maybe there is no perfect one. I know you're nowhere near perfect. But you feel just right for me."

"You're psychotic."

"But you still think I'm sexy anyway. Oh shit, fuck, I gotta go. I still want to kiss you. Someday, man, someday soon, you gotta let me." Oz hung up.

He frowned.

That...

No.

Shit.

No.

He shook his head. Oz was an idiot. He was getting paranoid. Everything was okay.

God damn it, he had a hard-on.

Saturday night. Party. Not his place, so it sucked. He took some girl upstairs and got halfway before she called him a jackass and left. He finished his beer and wandered around, looking for action.

"Guys, no, guys. I'm serious. Just between us."

He paused, frowning. What were the little shits up to now?

"Okay, Oz, between us," Kevin agreed.

"What is it?" Jim asked.

He leaned against the wall, just outside the doorway, listening casually.

"Do I have a good-looking dick?"

Silence.

"What?" Kevin asked.

"No, come on, just..." Oz made an irritated noise. Irritated with himself. "Is it attractive?"

"Oz, I don't want your cock," Jim said.

"No shit," Oz said. "If you were a girl, and you liked guys, and you'd seen dicks, would you like mine?"

"Okay, okay," Jim said. "We're adults, we can, we can handle this. Not, not handle this. I don't want to touch it. I'm just saying - - you want to take this one?"

"No, no, you go ahead," Kevin said.

"I," Jim said, "I have a nice dick."

"So do I," Kevin said.

"Yes," Jim said. "And Kevin, Kevin has a nice dick."

"Thanks."

"Shut up. Now, going with the assumption that I have a nice dick, and that Kevin has a nice dick, I would have to say, in comparison, if I noticed or cared about these kinds of things, I would have to say that you have, you have a..."

"Very nice," Kevin suggested.

"Yes, you have a very nice dick," Jim agreed.

"So, on a scale of one to ten," Oz began.

"We'll give you a ten," Jim said. "I, I think so."

"We'd get eights, of course," Kevin said.

"Of course," Jim agreed. "Finch gets, like, a six."

"Sherman gets a four, at the most," Kevin said.

"What about Stifler?" Oz asked.

"Stifler?" Jim asked.

"Stifler," Kevin said.

"We're eight?" Jim asked.

"Oz is ten," Kevin said.

"Stifler's... Don't make me say it," Jim said.

"Nine," Kevin said. "Stifler's nine."

"Are we finished here, because I need to go reaffirm my heterosexuality and stop talking about other guys's dicks," Jim said.

"Yeah, we're finished here," Oz said. "Thanks, guys."

Eight. Yeah, right. In their dreams. He shook his head and moved on down the hallway.

"This is Oz."

"This is Stephanie."

"Steph. Hey. How are you?"

"Word has it your dick scores a perfect ten out of ten."

"What? You heard that?"

"No wonder you like touching yourself. You must have something pretty special."

"I wasn't... I just wanted someone's opinion. I didn't know who else to ask. I mean, you seem to like it, but I wanted to make sure. You said, you said you wouldn't suck me if it didn't look good."

"Are you blushing?!"

"You can tell?"

"Shit, Oz. Grow a pair."

"I have a pair. You want to lick them."

"You wish."

"You can touch me anywhere you want."

"Touch yourself for me. I can't reach from over here."

"Come over here and touch me yourself."

"You wish."

"How long are you going to make me wait?"

"Wait for what?"

"For you to get your ass over here."

"For what?"

"So I can fuck it."

Whoa.

"Shit. I didn't, I wasn't going to say that."

"You're a freaking pervert. All right, Oz," he cheered.

Oz laughed. "It figures you'd like that."

"You like giving it up the ass?"

"I've never done it. But I want to. With you."

"Guess I'm just one lucky lady."

"I guess you are."

"You're an ass man, hunh. Good for you. I like your ass, too."

"Want to fuck it?"

He hesitated. "Excuse me?"

"I'd let you. Shit, I'm so freaking nervous. And so freaking turned on, you should see me. I've never told anybody this stuff."

"What stuff?"

"That I want..that I like... You know."

"What?"

"Stifler, I know it's you."

...

"I never told anybody - - I never talked to anybody like this period, not even Heather, but I've never told anybody that I want, that I... That I want a guy. Stifler, don't, don't..."

He hung up the phone. Set it on his desk. Went to his bed. Closed his eyes.

Two days later, he was sitting on his bed watching cartoons when Oz came to his bedroom doorway.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Your brother let me in."

"I'm gonna fucking kill him-"

"Stifler. Come on. Talk to me."

"You've told me way too much, and I don't have jack shit to say to you."

Oz closed the door and stepped closer. "I knew it was you."

"What's me?"

"Stephanie, on the phone. Don't act stupid, this is weird enough already. I didn't know who it was at first, I had no idea, but then I started to figure it out. And when I did figure it out, I was like, okay, let's play along, see what the hell you're up to now. But, I sort of liked it. It made me hot. You made me hot."

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"I was talking to you, Stifler. Not some stranger, not Stephanie. I've been talking to you, wanting you to touch me, wanting to kiss you."

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" He jumped up, putting the bed between them.

"You know, if I told the guys, they'd care less about me being gay and be more upset that I like you."

"You are not gay."

"I think I'm bi or something."

"You do not want me."

"Yes, I do."

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"I meant what I said, Stifler. I want you."

"Everybody wants me. I'm used to it. Get the fuck out of my house."

"I don't know why I like you. You're an asshole."

"And proud of it!"

Oz laughed. "Maybe that's why I like you."

"I'm fucking adorable. Get the fuck out."

"Do you want to lick my balls?"

"Fuck no!" He backed away from Oz.

"You said you'd suck me if it looks good. You've seen it. Do you think it looks good?"

"No."

"Does it look good enough to suck?"

"No."

"Do I make your mouth water?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Stifler, give me a break."

"No! You're a freak, and I want you out of my room."

"I'm not leaving."

"You're leaving."

Oz lay down on his back on the bed. "I'm staying."

"Get the fuck up!"

"Do you want me to get off?"

"Fuck no!"

"I'll let you watch me come."

"I'm fucking calling the police."

"I don't want them to watch. I only want you."

"Oz, eat me."

Oz slid his hand down his chest.

"Don't you fucking dare."

He ran his fingers over his groin.

"You-"

He unbuttoned his fly.

"Oz! Motherfucking-"

He unzipped.

"I am not fucking watching this."

"Then just listen. Close your eyes and listen. You know what it sounds like."

He turned his back. He had to leave. Call the cops. Call Oz's father. Call an insane asylum.

"Oh..."

Oh, shit.

Another groan, lower. "Oh..."

His balls were hot.

Oz started panting.

He listened to flesh on flesh.

"Oh, god, Stifler." Slow moan.

"Do it faster," he said without looking. Listening. Listening to Oz's hand work over Oz's dick, listening to Oz want him.

"Yeah..."

"Does it feel good?"

"Feels so fucking good."

He walked over and locked the door. "Either come or get off of my bed."

"What are...what do..."

"Off my bed."

Oz got off of the bed, wincing and trying to zip up again.

He looked. "Take your shoes off next time," Stifler said. He lay down, resting his hands over his stomach. "Okay, come here."

"Come...there?"

"You have somewhere else to be, there's the door."

Oz grinned, stepping forward.

"Shoes," Stifler reminded him. "Geez."

Oz stopped to bare his feet. "Okay?"

"Okay."

Oz crawled onto the bed, climbing over him. "Hi."

"Hi," Stifler said.

"I'm still really hard, and this is not helping."

"Good."

Oz smiled. "So, can I kiss you?"

"Fuck no. Suck me, beautiful."

"Stifler-"

"It's down there."

"Fuck."

He waited.

"Can I do other stuff?"

"What other stuff?" he asked, suspicious.

"No, not that. I just mean, like, foreplay. Kissing your chest or whatever."

He thought about it. "Yeah, okay." He pushed Oz out of his way and sat up, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it to the floor. He lay down again.

"I can't kiss you on the mouth?"

"No. I don't kiss guys."

"But you'll let them suck you?"

"No teeth."

"I know how to... Well, no, I don't," Oz admitted.

"Are we going to do this or what?"

"I really do like you, Stifler." Before he could reply, Oz planted a kiss on his naked shoulder. Slow, soft kisses along his collarbone. Intimate kisses up his neck. Oz licked over his voicebox and kissed across his jaw to his ear. Oh... Mmm... His eyes closed. That felt kind of good...

He could get used to this. Oz had a good mouth. He wanted that on his dick. "Where'd you learn to do this?"

"It's called seduction and foreplay," Oz said.

"It's kind of nice."

"Thanks." Oz kissed down onto his chest. Tongued his nipple. Sucked his skin.

"I'm so fucking hard."

"Me, too."

Stifler arched his back a little, stretching. He tilted his head to one side and Oz went right for his exposed neck, kissing and sucking and, damn, Oz, teeth. Oh, damn. The quick sharp graze of teeth, the quick stinging nip, caught his attention before Oz's tongue soothed his skin. Oz's hand was on his abdomen, kind of stroking, drawing circles around his navel.

"I like the way you taste," Oz said.

"What?"

"I like the way you taste," he repeated. "And I like the way your body feels."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Instead of answering, Oz slid down his body, pausing to lick at his nipples, and started kissing down over his abs. Stroking his ribcage.

"Are you going to suck me or what?"

"Shut up and let me do this."

He didn't want to come in his pants. That felt fucking good. Oz's mouth was on his treasure trail now, and he felt all hot and hard and sensitive. His thighs were trying to spread and his hips were trying to thrust and his cock was trying to get free. Get into Oz's mouth.

"I can smell it," Oz said. "God, Stifler."

Oh, holy... Oz was mouthing him through his pants, working over the bulge of his erection. His cock jumped and throbbed, liking the friction. Oz started gnawing the head and his hips pumped upward, off the bed. Oz held him down and started rubbing him through his jeans.

"You like that?" Oz asked.

He bit his fist, trying not to moan. Felt so fucking good. He was going to come in his pants, he really was, and then he'd have to hate Oz for life. His cock was fucking hard and his balls hurt and he had to get out of his jeans and his heart was pounding and he was sweating and he couldn't hold still anymore. He rocked into Oz's hand, tipping his head back, making these breathy grunting sounds around his fist.

"Fuck, Stifler."

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, biting down on his knuckle. "I'm gonna come, I'm-"

"No, no, hold still," Oz said, pinning his hips to the bed, trying to keep him from stimulation. "Breathe or something. Think about, uh, Finch."

"You were sucking my earlobe."

"Finch sucking Sherman's earlobe."

"Oh, gross!"

Oz laughed. "That's better."

He held still, barely breathing, and watched Oz open his jeans. Watched Oz pull out his cock.

Oz licked his lips. "Oh, yeah."

His heart hammered. He lifted his feet and let Oz finish undressing him. He didn't have to be ass-naked for a blowjob, but he'd go along with whatever Oz wanted right now. Oz started touching him, inside his thighs.

Oz slid up his body. Right over him, looking down into his eyes. Close. "Don't come, okay? I want you to come in my mouth, just let me look around for a minute."

Look around for what? He nodded. Oz slid down again. And started licking his thighs. Lifted his knee and started licking that place where his thigh met his groin. And then Oz licked his balls. Oz was licking his balls. He couldn't help it. He moaned. A real moan, a sex moan, like in porn.

"Okay, just let me," and Oz kissed his dick. Oz's lips were on him, Oz was kissing him, licking up his erection, and then it was in Oz's mouth, his cock was in Oz's mouth, and Oz started sucking, and he had to. He had to. He let go.

Oh holy mother of fuck! Noise and lights and his hips jacking up to slam his cock down Oz's throat. He came hard, shuddering. He held still, feeling the final tremors. Then his hips dropped and his muscles relaxed and he couldn't remember his own name.

"Wow."

Damn. He coughed.

"Oh, shit..."

"What?" He tried to open his eyes.

Oz was embarrassed. "I came in my pants."

He laughed. "Amateur."

"Ha, ha, ha." Oz reached for the hem of his shirt.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Taking off my clothes." There went the shirt. He started unzipping.

"Whoa, fuck, no."

Oz peeled out of his pants and underwear.

"What are you doing?! Those are my sheets!"

"I don't hear you volunteering to lick it off." Oz wiped his dick.

"You're buying me new sheets."

Oz relaxed at his side. Kissed his cheek. "Good orgasm?"

"It was okay."

Oz smiled and kissed his jaw. Kissed his neck. "Can I come back here tomorrow and give you another one?"

"I guess."

"Do you have anywhere to be?"

"No."

"Can I stay for another minute or two?"

"Yeah. Just, don't get all pussy on me."

"You don't want me to get romantic and kiss you and tell you how much I liked it?"

"None of that shit."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Where?"

Oz rolled his eyes. "Not on the mouth."

"Okay."

"You like that, don't you?"

"What?"

"Foreplay stuff."

"Yeah, I like getting licked up."

Oz smiled. "I like licking you up."

"Get started."

"You can touch me, you know."

"Fuck no."

"You can."

"Where?"

Oz took his hand. "Anywhere." Placed his palm to Oz's bared chest. "Here."

His fingers twitched. "You have good skin."

"Feel me." Oz guided his hand up. Down. Over. He found a nipple, small and tight. Oz started kissing his shoulder. He slid his fingers over, found the other nipple. Oz made a horny sound against his neck and he let his touch move south.

matthew@matthewtime.com
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