Title: After You
Author: Dolores
Email: dolores_l@hotmail.com
Summary: Cordelia doesn't put out for nothing.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: It's Joss' party, but I'll cry if I want to.
Notes: Devonathon fic for Kate. I got you entirely at random, sweetie, honest. Anyway, Kate asked for Devon/Cordelia, set in Halloween with some teenage hi-jinks and little to no angst.

Cordelia Chase was not happy.

It had been, officially, the worst Hallowe'en ever. She'd spent a great deal of Daddy's hard-earned greenbacks on a stunning costume. She had used make-up worth nearly as much as the costume to draw whiskers on her face. Most importantly, she was Cordelia Chase, and she expected to have a socially rewarding holiday event, and get some attention of the hottie male variety.

Instead she had been forced by the Rat King himself – Snyder, in case there was any doubt – to nursemaid four whining brats around half of Sunnydale so they could extort candy from old ladies. Bad enough; but then thanks to the freako wackiness that is Sunnydale they did a Dr Jekyll and turned into actual little monsters, terrorised her and tore her costume. Then! As if she hadn’t suffered enough! The only truly hot guy she'd seen in days had chosen a style-free freak like Buffy over the vision of loveliness that was she, leaving Cordelia dateless in a ripped leotard.

Yeah. Worst Halloween ever.

She was stalking home now, admittedly not the brightest idea given that this was Sunnydale and it was dark, but there were still plenty of people milling about going to parties and there was no way she was going to be seen in public with Xander, even to escort her home, even if it meant greater personal danger.

A car approached her from behind, slowing down as it got near. Cordelia readied her best verbal barrage at whichever foolish, disgusting old man was treating her like a steetwalker.

"Hey! Cordy!"

She knew that voice, and whilst it wasn't a disgusting old man, there was only another 30 years before it would be. She didn't deign to look at him, and kept walking. The car kept pace.

"Devon MacLeish, I am no longer dating you. I am not someone you stand up. Your car is cheap and you use way too much tongue when you kiss."

He grinned with his white, white teeth. "I'm sorry. There was practise. Oz was all, 'we need to practise, 'cause we suck', and whilst I'm, like, a rock god, the rest of 'em need to get better, and they can't do that if I'm not there."

"You stood me up. There is nothing more to say, except that I hate you."

"Come back to my place."

Cordelia stopped dead, swivelling on her heel to face him, hands on hips. "As if!"

She looked at him sitting there and one eyebrow shot up. He was in a Spiderman costume (expect for the hood). It was all skin-tight lycra and woo, did it show off his muscles.

He noticed her expression and pressed his advantage. "My Mom and Dad are out. We'd have the place to ourselves and there's no lock on the liquor cabinet."

She considered this for a moment. "Devon, I may decide to go back to your house, because you are at least moderately cool and a senior and therefore worthy of my presence. But if you expect me to go all Betty Ford when I'm there I go home right now."

Devon shrugged. "I got some Ocean Spray too."

"That brand name has been more than slightly tarnished by its association with minor members of English royalty - but it's acceptable."

She got in the car.

***

Perched on the sofa, Cordelia sipped her cranberry juice and raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Still in his disturbingly sexy costume, Devon was sitting next to her, leaning close and kissing her neck. They were in the living room of his moderately expensive home. She was gratified to learn that it was far less palatial than her own, and the furnishings were at least a decade out of date. The fact she'd be able to tell this to Harm and the others tomorrow nearly made up for the fact Devon was doing his level best to convince her to sleep with him.

"We don't need to fuck! You can just suck me off."

"Ew! Excuse me, Tommy Lee, but I am saving myself. Not necessarily for marriage but at the very least for a cute, rich college senior who'll give me a Cartier watch."

"I can get you some earrings. Mom's got loads of them."

"I do not want your mother's costume jewellery."

"Aw, come on, Cordy. It's not like you'd not be a virgin anymore."

"Oh God, as if that's what I care about. Look, I object to this because, well - why is this always about your pleasure? Why is it always the woman who has to give herself lockjaw so you can get your orgasm? What do we get from the deal? Some clumsy oaf groping our breasts and giving us a hickey and, let me tell you, that's not a fair exchange. A Cartier watch is a fair exchange."

Devon nodded, as if taking this in. "I get it."

She laughed, disbelieving. "You do?"

"Yeah. Hell, you only needed to say."

He jumped to his feet and she watched, slightly confused, as he reached behind himself and pulled down the zipper at the back of his costume. He began to peel it off, slowly revealing more and more of his honey-coloured flesh. This was a pleasant sight and it took quite a few seconds for her indignation to kick in.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm gonna make this about your pleasure."

"And taking your clothes off is about my pleasure?"

He pushed the suit down from his waist and it became clear he was going commando. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Looks like it."

Once he was naked he spun around to give her a view of his ass. He flexed a buttock and she giggled.

"I'm still not gonna suck you off," she informed the back of his head.

He spun back. "I ain't asking you to."

"Then what do you want?"

Devon moved closer to her and sank to his knees, parting her thighs with his hands and diving in to lick the fabric that covered them.

Cordelia shrieked. "What are you doing!"

He looked up at her from between her legs, eyes shining. "Cordy, I am all about the mouth. I might use my tongue too much when I kiss, but just think what else I can do with it."

"Devon – I am not, I mean, I, uh..."

He kept on licking, and even through the cat suit it felt good.

"Be careful down there! It's bad enough there's a tear in the costume, I don’t want staining too."

After that, her only demand was to move the action to Devon's bedroom – then, on seeing the state of it, to the guest bedroom – because she had seen to many teen movies and knew that his parents would walk in on them as a matter of dramatic certainty if they stayed downstairs.

She allowed him to undress her, but warned that, "if your penis so much as brushes my foot, I am so out of here."

He did it reverently, with a whispered, "Jeez," when he slowly pulled down her panties.

He insisted she kept on her cat ears and gently pushed her back onto the bed, where she lay waiting as he stared at her for a time. She cleared her throat impatiently and he seemed to start out of his daze.

Slowly he brought his head down to her left foot; not what Cordelia had expected. He licked the sole, and, for once, she couldn't think of anything to say. He bathed her foot in saliva, sucking each toe and massaging her leg with his hands.

Frustratingly slowly he moved up her limb, kissing and licking and gently biting. Blowing on the sheen of spit he left behind and the sensation was unexpectedly pleasing.

When, at last, his head was level with her pelvis he paused for a few seconds longer. She nearly asked if he thought this was a gynaecology exam but, just as she opened her mouth, with one sweep of his broad, wet tongue, Devon treated Cordelia to her first experience of cunnilingus.

Gripping the sheets she cried out, "oh, wow!" and felt him smile into her flesh.

He kept licking.

His hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts and thighs and, she had to admit, he really was all about the tongue. Occasionally also the teeth. Plus the lips. It was really a lot of oral teamwork.

Some fifteen minutes later, Devon treated Cordelia to her first orgasm induced by another person. She made quite a bit of noise.

He kept licking.

Afterward, she lay and basked in the glow. They both glistened with sweat and sex and Devon leaned back, sweeping the back of his arm across his face, stretching his stiff back.

He waited a dignified ten seconds before asking.

"So do I get a blow job now?"

Cordy lifted her head and looked straight at him. Her hair was stuck to her forehead and the whiskers smudged all across her face.

"Excuse me? This is all about my pleasure, remember? And I don't recall saying I was finished."

Devon laughed, rueful. "Dude." He dipped his head back down.

He kept licking.