Work Text:
Oz Vessalius woke up with the setting sun’s rays hitting his eyelids. The light made him hesistate before opening his eyes, and also fail a couple of times before actually doing so, because the sky was way too clear for his still sleepy self. He felt a sharp pain on his neck when he tried to look up, letting out a low moan while trying to massage his nape with one hand. Oz was in the garden of the mansion, he realized, and by the position of the sun in the sky, it was already late. Which explained his sore neck, for he had been sleeping for a couple of hours now, lying on the floor against the trunk of an old and uncomfortable tree.
The blonde thought of moving when he noticed a certain weight pressing his left shoulder. Instead of immediately trying to shake it off, Oz looked down at his side and found none other than Gilbert. The boy’s raven haired head had found Oz’s shoulder to rest, and so there he laid, dead asleep, body coiled against his master’s side.
Oz took a moment looking at Gilbert. The little boy, leaned mercilessly toward the other, had carelessly left one opened palm over Oz’s lap, while the other hand laid on the floor by his side. The way the orange light of the sun hit his skin made it look golden, his messy hair shinny as well, in spite of its dark colour, wild black curls falling gently over his forehead. Eyes closed like this, Gilbert’s eyelashes seemed even longer than usual and his thin and rosy lips were slightly open, chest rising up and down at the slow rhythm of his breath. Oz stared at Gilbert for a long while, partly because he himself was still not really fond of the idea of actually moving, and partly because his young servant was so ridiculously nice to look at. He was just so peaceful and pretty in this unconscious state, even cute, Oz dared thinking. Which was strange, nevertheless, since Oz rarely found something other than kitties and girls cute. Gilbert was the exception, maybe because of his childish nature or naïve expression, or maybe only because he possessed this rare kind of soft beauty that could only be really noticed when very attentive, like Oz was now.
The Vessalius’ heir was not always so attentive though, so these moments, these sudden notices, often surprised him too. Right now, it surprised him how hard it was proving to just look away from that perfect picture, and also his own lack of will to do so. Oz slowed his breath and drew a small smile. Any other person, in any other situation, would probably get mad at the view of his own servant asleep over himself, but it wasn’t like that for Oz. Oz knew plenty well that Gilbert was for him much more than a mere servant, even though the other refused to fully accept it. It was only in this kind of moments that Gil actually let his guard down near him, therefore forgetting his technical status, and so, even though not out loud, acknowledging Oz as something other than his master: his friend. And so this moments were precious to Oz, for that was all he wanted, for real. When sleeping like this, Gilbert was no more held by his itching urge to protect or serve Oz, the burning and unreachable shadows in his eyes were not visible. He was just a little boy sleeping.
And right now, under the setting sun, the blond boy tried in vain to resist the urge of reaching for Gil with his free hand. His resolution was obviously lacking, because, not a second later, he carefully took one of the dark locks between his fingers. Gilbert’s hair was silky and nice to the touch, and even the way the lock immediately curled to its original position once Oz let go of it was adorable. That hair Gil secretly despised, maybe because it was so different and unique, having Oz never met someone alike. The hair Oz secretly adored, because it opposed so greatly to his own blond and straight hair, and because it fit Gilbert so well. He wondered if he did like it only because it belonged to Gilbert, sometimes. Not that it mattered in the least.
Oz hand moved to gently caress Gil’s cheek, skin soft and warm like he had imagined. It was indeed strange how he felt uneasy by doing so, how that innocent warmth seemed to spread through his fingertips like electricity, causing him an enigmatic sort of pleasure. Gilbert suddenly moved, maybe feeling his master’s touch, but did not wake up or retreat. On the contrary: he actually cuddled even closer to Oz, pressing his cheek even more against his shoulder and slightly clutching the blonde’s shirt with shaky fingers. Taken by surprise, Oz froze and waited a few seconds after Gilbert stopped moving, just to let out a long sigh of relief when he stopped, and immediately smiling. It was undeniable how cute Gil could be, behaving like a little baby and holding onto his master so unfittingly. Through Oz’s mind ran already some ideas of how to tease his friend about it later. Certainly just telling the occurrence out loud would be enough to make the other furiously blush. It was probably not nice of him, he knew, but seeing Gilbert flustered was always just too good for him to resist. He also looked incredibly cute in those moments, and maybe that was the only reason Oz liked to tease him so much.
Now, though, staring down at the boy was enough. Oz found his eyes stuck for too long on that small mouth, so incredibly lovely. He gulped in awe when the thought of leaning down and pressing his own lips against those rosy ones crossed his mind. His whole body was taken over by a piercing nervousness, but Oz didn’t waver in his place. It was probably abnormal the strength of that sole wish and yet Oz could not deny it.
In the verge of his fifteen years, Oz could still not fully understand the length of that insane attraction he felt for his friend. It was not like with other girls, whom Oz liked to look at and talk to. Gilbert was different, maybe because he was cutter than any other girl, to an extent where Oz felt a constant need of keeping him close and under his reach. Gil was his best friend, after all, his only one, to be honest, so Oz was not sure this was the way friends were supposed to feel about each other. The only thing he knew was that friends didn’t often kiss each other. Not in the lips. Or did they? Because, right now, Oz really wanted to do so. He slightly pressed his thumb over Gilbert’s lip, feeling the hot and steady breath hitting his skin. Gilbert was so vulnerable right now, it was impossible to resist. Unconsciously wetting his lower lip, Oz slowly leaned down. He was not thinking anymore, it was not worth it, in the end. So he leaned closer and closer, too slowly for his own good. He was determined to go ahead and do it, but, when his mouth was but an inch away from Gilbert’s, Oz hesitated. He took a deep breath, but felt suddenly drained of all courage.
He didn’t have the time to win it back because Gilbert had started to move again, making Oz retreat almost instantly. Little Gilbert took one closed fist to his face to rub his eyes, moaning lowly. Oz just stared as the other woke up, only after a few seconds shyly opening his eyes. The Vessalius’ heart skipped a beat at the moment, the image of Gilbert’s eyes opening, shining golden pupils being revealed, such beauty seemingly impossible to exist in this world. The blond took a quick second to remind himself of how lucky he was, to be able to stare at such amazingly pretty face.
“Hum…” Gilbert mumbled, confused, slowly looking up. “Young Master… Oz…”
Oz replied with a wide smile. “Hey there, Gilbert. Slept well?”
Gilbert narrowed his eyes even more, completely lost. “Slept…” He whispered and turned his head to look forward at the setting sun, then looking up again at Oz. The instant of realization was slow and undeniably comic. Gilbert looked down at Oz’s lap, then back up at his grinning face. The boy’s eyes slowly opened wider until they were completely googled in shock, blood quickly rushed to his cheeks, turning them into bright pink in the blink of an eye, his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Gil just instantly stepped back to distance himself from his master, blabbering short apologises too quickly to perceive.
Oz bit back an eminent laugher and stretched his hand to grab a hold of Gilbert’s wrist, not letting him get any further. “Hey, hey, Gil! Don’t you think it’s rather rude to run from someone so eagerly just by looking at their face?”
“I-I-I…!” Gilbert continued to blabber incoherently, feeling so ashamed that Oz feared he would pass out. “It’s not like that! I-I amsoverydeeplysorry, Young Master Oz! PleaseforgivemyboldnessIswearit’llneverhappenagain! Iamaservantbynomeansworthyofyourkindness! I-”
Oz was split into thinking the scenario cute, funny, irritating or insulting, so he took a deep breath and pulled Gilbert’s arm. The boy immediately shut up, letting out a cry of surprise, his body hitting Oz’s once again, the blond’s arm closing around him this time, in order to keep him still.
Gilbert stood frozen for a second and then looked up with a flustered expression once again. “Y-Young Master Oz!”
“Oh, shut up already, Gil! You’re way too noisy.” Oz stated, smiling, in spite of the annoyed words.
“I-I… I’m deeply sorry, Young Master Oz…” Gil affirmed, looking down. “B-But me, falling asleep in such-!”
“It’s fine, see?” Oz interrupted, clutching Gil’s arm tighter. “Stop making a fuss over it, it’s not like it bothered me. I could’ve waked you up sooner if I wanted to, you know?”
“Y-You… could…” Gil agreed, still unsure.
“I did not because it was nice in here.” Then he showed a mischievous grin. “And because Gil was soooo cute whilst asleep…” He sang, telling no lie.
Gilbert’s cheeks turned pinker. “Y-Young Master!”
Oz just laughed. “At least we both woke up to a nice scenario.”
The raven haired boy looked up at the twilight sky once again. Shades of pink and orange mixed above them, surrounding the bright reddish sun making its way down to where the horizon would hide him. “Indeed...” Gil agreed, now more relaxed, smiling as well. He didn’t notice that Oz did not stare up but the sky, but down at his servant. He blinked when Gilbert looked up, worried. “We should go back now, Young Master Oz! It must be later than we expected, Mrs. Kate will surely scold us!”
Oz huffed. “She will scold us anyway, so we don’t need to hurry too much. Let’s stay here a bit longer, just relax.”
“I-I do not think that is a good idea…”
“Well, good thing your opinion doesn’t count much in the matter, then.” Oz stated, amused, and promptly laid his head down over Gilberts lap. Gilbert’s hands froze in the air, himself looking down in utter shock while Oz found a comfortable position and sighed in relief right after, laying his hands over his belly.
“O-O-O-O…zz…” Gilbert started mumbling, once again blushing like a newly cut tomato.
He was stopped by Oz’s finger that was quickly pressed against his lips to shut him up. “Shhhhh. No more of that, Gil. Besides, it’s only fair that you offer your lap to your master, after sleeping for so long on me, don’t you think?” He stated, smiling, and keeping his finger in place longer than he needed, just because it felt strangely good.
“I-I…” Gilbert started, but then lowered his head in shame. “Yeah… I guess…”
“Great.” The boy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Say, Gil, do you think I’m pretty?”
“W-What?!” Shouted the servant, once again not expecting such question.
“If you do find me pretty. No lies.” He demanded.
“I-I-I… W-Why would you ask such thing to me?!” Gil asked, embarrassed to the core.
“I would just like to know. Because I kind of find you extremely pretty, and I wished to know your opinion about me.” Astonished was not a strong enough word to describe Gilbert’s expression. He could not even manage to repeat his master’s words. Oz supposed that’s what he intended, anyway. When Gil was awake, he felt always much more confident. Maybe because Gil’s lack of such left him no choice but to take the lead. “So? Will you answer?”
“I… I don’t think the opinion of a mere servant is anything to go by…” He murmured.
Oz sighed, annoyed. “There you go again. Thought you should’ve know by now, Gil! You are not a mere servant. Of course your opinion matters to me!”
“B-But you just said-”
“It doesn’t matter what I just said. I am asking something now.” Oz’s voice was incisive, and he looked up at his friend with determination. “If you find me ugly you can just say it, I wi-”
“N-No! Not at all! Young Master Oz is the most beautiful person I know!” The boy immediately brought both hands to his mouth aware of his instinctively direct words.
Oz, in the other hand, couldn’t stop looking at him in the eyes, a foreign feeling of relief in his chest. “You think so?” Gil hesitated a long, long moment before he shyly shook his head in affirmation. A wide smile drew itself on the young Vessalius’ lips. “That makes me happy.”
And then there was something else on Gilbert’s face, a raw and unwanted fascination as he looked at Oz. This one, though, Oz never fully perceived. “Hey, Gil. I’ve been wanting to try something, you know?”
“Hum… W-What is it, Young Master Oz…?” Gil asked, hesitant.
“Would you lean closer?”
“I-…” Gilbert gulped and did as asked, very slowly and just a few centimetres.
Oz couldn’t help feeling nervous and bit his lip. “Closer.” Gil seemed scared, but did so, once again just a little bit. Oz then lifted his arm and reached for Gilbert’s cheek, feeling the boy shiver under his touch. But also he was caught up in the moment, Oz could tell. And he was sure his servant was as terrified as himself, and probably also as anxious. Oz gulped once again. Gilbert’s golden eyes seemed bigger from there and they were moisty, as if the boy was about to burst out in tears at any moment. The jitters was taking the best of him as always but, also as always, knowing that made Oz even more determined. He smiled softly, trying to pass on some confidence he wasn’t sure to hold himself. “”It’s fine Gil.” He assured, caressing his cheek once again. “Close your eyes.”
He didn’t know what hid in Gilbert’s mind, and that’s something he would have paid to know. But for now, Gilbert closed his eyes shut, pressing down his eyelids with such violence that others would believe he was about to be attacked. Oz’s heartbeats were loud on his own ears and there was nothing more that he could hear. A frenzy compelled by extreme frighten, as well as excitement. He wet his lower lip again, as the first time out of instinct, and then pulled Gilbert’s face down.
He met his friend’s lips with his own as softly as he could, his instinct rejecting its own impatience and longing. Gilbert, even though eventually expecting it to some extent, trembled visibly under his master’s grip but didn’t dare to move. Just being like that, lips touching so innocently as two children possibly could, brought them both a whole range of new and unexplored sensations, all of them so heart shattering and terrifying as dazzling and pleasing.
They inevitably found themselves relaxing. Gilbert’s eyelids seemed no more being forcing his eyes closed and his lips were resting over his friend’s with lazy intent and curiosity, a bit heavier than he previously was, as if impelled by a thirsty need for more contact.
Oz’s lips ended up curving into a smile whilst against Gil’s. He was so warm and nice, his dear friend he had never craved for so much.
Gil slowly pulled back, leaving both breathing heavily, even though they had barely moved the whole time. His face was reddish and his eyes narrowed, seeming still stunned by what had just happened, cheek burning under Oz’s palm. The blond’s grin grew as he looked Gilbert in the eyes. The raven haired boy was so perplexed, so bemused, and he himself felt unsteady. He thanked God he was laying down, or else he feared he could’ve stumbled and fell, for his members felt weak and shaking.
Gilbert’s mouth moved as he whispered. “O-Oz…”
Oz’s hand moved up and his fingers entwined around the boy’s dark locks. He wondered what was wrong with him, what was it that made him act so irrationally. But it was Gilbert, of course. Not his pre-adolescence raging hormones, not his rebel personality and not his lack of proper sleep, but Gilbert. He wondered if he would ever meet a woman someday, who felt or tasted just as good as Gilbert did right now. He didn’t know for sure, but he didn’t care to think about it too much, anyway. For now there was Gilbert standing above him, and he just liked that.
“Gilbert…” He mumbled. There was a lot he wanted to say, and he did not know exactly how to, but he spoke anyway. “Gilbert, I think I…”
“Young Master! Young Master, where are you?!”
Gil instantly looked back and Oz immediately sat straight when they heard Mrs. Kate’s voice calling them from afar. “O-Oh, no!” Gilbert stuttered, skittish, reaching his head with both hands. “Ah! W-We’re going to be scold so badly! Young Master Oz!” He pleaded, not knowing what to do.
Oz giggled at the sight and Gilbert looked at him in surprise, not knowing what fun could have his master found in such situation. Oz jumped up and looked at the manor’s direction, spotting Mrs. Kate far away, walking with obvious irritation in her voice, still crying out his name.
“We have no time to waste, c’mon, Gil!”
And he reached for Gil’s hand, grabbing it with his and pulling the boy up, then forward to make him run. Oz amused, Gilbert scared, both still dizzy and yet feeling awfully cheerful, they ran away hand in hand.
Oz woke up with a nostalgic feeling boiling inside his chest. His eyes opened to meet bright light and he looked around to determine his location. He took some seconds to realize he was not dreaming anymore, for the scenario he saw was rather identical to the one he had just lived from memories: he was sitting in a pretty garden, had dozed off against a tree trunk and a dead weight was resting on his shoulder. Now this was not the same as in his memory, for the garden was not his mansion’s, but yet the Rainsworth’s. He tried to recall how he had ended up there, but really couldn’t. Trying his best to shake off the sleepiness, he looked down at his shoulder and found a messy crown of raven hair.
Gilbert slept like a stone, his head heavy over the boy, leaned down in a seemingly extremely uncomfortable position, having in mind his size. Yet he was serenely sleeping, eyes closed in peace, not aware of his situation, most probably. Oz couldn’t help but smiling at that.
Curious indeed, that such a scene was repeating itself now; also curious the timing of that dream he just had. Now, looking down at his servant, Oz felt an itching pain inside his ribcage. That short dream had served for nothing but remembering him of what he once was, before the Abyss, of what they used to be. Everything was different this time. Now Gilbert was ten years older than himself, now he bared on his chest a gruesome scar traced by suffered accidents and years of his master’s absence. Now Oz was a criminal, bearing on his skin the mark of a forbidden blood contract, now he was more aware of the world’s cruel ways. And yet here they were, even though changed, just the same as before. And in that moment, the pain they’d been through seemed not to matter, he noticed, while slowly ruffling Gilbert’s hair with his free hand.
Gilbert’s face was still beautiful, probably even more than before. And like that, sleeping, the wrinkles usually and almost constantly present on his forehead for the constant worry and stress he tended to oblige himself to live under didn’t exist, making him seem younger. Even though the edges of his face had grew sharper since the last time, it held still its angelical look, is skin was still clear and shiny when hit by the sunrays, in spite of seemingly newly shaved; his eyelashes seemed even more noticeable than before, long and elegant over his closed eyes; his hair also longer but still messy and wild and curly on the edges that fell over his pretty features. And those lips, thin and pinkish, once again slightly opened, permitting air to come in and out of his lungs. His scent was different too, mostly overtaken by the tobacco odour, but still strangely attractive and nice. Once again, Oz thought maybe he just thought that way because it was Gilbert.
Gilbert started to move, letting out some muffled sounds of grumpiness, which made Oz’s smile grow wider. The sounds turned into growls of pain once he tried to straighten up, proving right Oz’s previous theory. He then scratched the top of his head and slowly opened his eyes to look around. “Where the…?”
“Hey there, Gilbert. Slept well?” Oz asked.
Gilbert looked down at the blond, lost somewhere within his sleeping and awake states, trying to make sense of his position. His mouth opened in realization, his eyes wide opened in awe and his face turned bright red. All just as Oz had expected. The man even backed away in panic, mumbling apologies.
Seeing this, Oz could not hold back and just burst out laughing. His laugher resounded clear and loud through the space, making Gilbert freeze in his place and stare, dumbfounded. Only when Oz calmed down a little, he found the courage to speak. “O-Oz…? Are you okay…?”
Oz wiped a tear from his eye and looked at his servant, huge grin still painted on his face. “Gil hasn’t changed one bit!”
“A-Ah?!” Gilbert pondered, confused. “W-What are you talking about?!”
“I said that Gil hasn’t changed at all. Remember when this happened once? You falling asleep over me? I remember your reaction and it was the exact same!”
Gilbert took two slow seconds before remembering what Oz was talking about. He was about to talk when Oz’s smile turned somehow bitter and he proceeded. “Oh, I’m sorry. It… It is obviously natural that you don’t recall. It’s been a long time, after all!” Even though for him, only months had passed since that day, for Gilbert those had been countless years.
“I-I remember!” Gil rushed to shout, much to Oz’s surprise. He was flustered and yet desperate to make the boy listen to him. He couldn’t bear the thought of Oz thinking he would ever forget even a moment of their lives together. “There’s no way I could’ve forgotten.” He mentioned, recalling those events with a soft smile.
Oz’s expression turned into one of shy content when he spoke. “You do?”
“Yes.” Gilbert affirmed, getting closer to Oz again, leaving only a short distance between them. “You told me running from people like that was rude. I’m sorry.”
Oz laughed. And Gilbert stared with a gentle smile. He remembered it far too well, too clearly, even for himself. He believed there was not one single moment he had spent with Oz that would ever be erased from his mind and heart. The young Vessalius had probably no idea of how much those simple memories had kept him moving through ten long years, but it was true. Each detail of what was Oz had been and would be forever kept in his mind as precious and unforgettable. Since the moment they met until today, the only thing keeping Gilbert moving forward had been the thought of Oz. The boy looked up at him, and Gilbert recognized a faint shade of pink on his cheeks. “Hey, Gil?” He was about to continue, but decided it was not needed, for he could just do what he had in mind.
Gilbert watched, speechless, as Oz laid his head over his lap. He took a deep breath before looking up with a smile. “You recall this as well?”
The Nightray was now flustered to the core, gagging in a try to make some sense of himself, but with no positive results. There was no way Oz could imagine how fast and hard his heart beat inside of his chest, almost as if it could tear his flesh open at any moment. It should’ve changed, he believed, the way that boy made him feel just by talking to him, just by touching him. Gilbert should be an adult now, he should be in control, not like when he was a useless, oversensitive and easily scared kid. But hell, how he was glad it hadn’t changed…
He answered by nodding, while gulping and biting his own cheek to keep tears from falling from his eyes. “You…” He hesitated, then proceeded, unable to hide his smile of relief, overtaken by the powerful nostalgia of long lived memories. “You are still the most beautiful person I’ve ever known…”
Oz opened his mouth, but had no words. He felt like crying for some weird reason but he did not want to. “I…” He giggled, almost involuntarily. “That makes me happy!”
Gil’s cheeks burned now more than ever, not only because he had said the most embarrassing words he possibly could, but also because Oz had actually answered, the same four little words full of cheerfulness and affection he had ten years ago and, most of all, because, now remembering that time clearly like water, he was more than aware of what followed.
He started to mumble new made and still not completely understandable apologies as he said “no” to himself. No way. That had been before, when they were kids, when they didn’t know what they were doing, when they were naïve and stupid. There was no way any of them would ever admit such thing to happen again.
It was insane, even sick, the way he wished it, though…
And looking up, Oz could guess most of the thoughts that were running like crazy behind Gilbert’s golden eyes as he looked away, probably considering a simple stare driven by such thoughts an unjustifiable sin. And Oz was scared, because, in one hand, his thoughts were slightly similar. In the other, he decided not to care. After all, it was when Gilbert was silly and flustered like that that Oz felt more unwavering.
So he reached out and pressed his palm against Gilberts’ soft cheek. Gil looked down, pleading and pitiful, so Oz smiled and whispered. “Lean closer, Gil.”
His heart was conflicting, to the point where man was pondering which option was better: to run away and or to cease all movement. “O-Oz, I…. We can’t…”
Oz’s other hand gripped his shirt and tightened its fabric. “It’s okay, Gil.” He assured, even though his members were shaking and his chest so tight he felt like he couldn’t breathe for much longer. “Closer...”
Gilbert should not, and Gilbert knew that better than anyone else. Yet Oz’s eyes were so shiny and pleading, tinted by raw resolve and need, his little fingers so insisting. All of Gilbert’s instincts cried out for him to stop himself, for him to keep his cool and walk away. But his body felt weaker every second, cold sweat building on his forehead, heart beating painfully inside of his chest, blood throbbing in his head so violently his vision was blurred. And that primitive, animal desire pulling strings that shouldn’t even exist. His throat and lips were dry and he could not deny the aching and probably psychological thirst striking him while looking at Oz’s parted lips. This was a longing he’d been bearing and supressing for more than ten years, a feeling that should be gone already, since long ago, but that, against all odds, persisted and was stronger than before, much more intense, much more fierce. But it was just humanly impossible. No matter how much he struggled against that feeling, that was a lost battle from the start.
So Gilbert gave in. It had always been like that anyway, right? He had never been able to say no and now, years later, Oz was still the only thing capable of moving him so irrationally, so dangerously. He never had the upper hand over himself. That did not change. It would never, as long as it concerned Oz. He leaned closer, Oz pulling himself up at the same time. Really, really slowly, as if time had slowed down only for them, as if the world had ceased existing around them. Oz had always been the one pulling him, his centre of gravity, even when not physically present. How would Gilbert even manage to get a grip of himself and act like he should? How when Oz was there, when he was so kind and stunning and fitting so perfectly in his arms? How when he meant the world?
Oz’s lips hesitated before finally meeting Gilbert’s, once again in a simple touch, yet enough to make them both feel weak. Weak in heart and yet strong. For then there was no right or wrong or anything else besides that sweet warmth uniting them. Gilbert took Oz’s hand into his big one when the boy’s grip got even tighter on his shirt and when Oz opened his mouth against his, he instinctively responded. The blond was taken by the agreeable surprise and went on with some shyness, mostly because he had no idea of what to do, having him never kissed anyone like that before. Yet he kept his eyes closed and let himself surrender to Gilbert’s lips, which moved softly but steady, almost knowing, even though he would probably feel ashamed of such the next day.
Gilbert did his best to hold back, but it was just so hard. He had spent the last ten years of his life missing Oz, missing his shape walking in front of him, missing the touch of those soft hands, which seemed much smaller now, missing the sound of his voice whispered into his ears in sleepless nights. Oz was back now, everything he ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of, and being with him like that, touching and kissing him like that, had been no more than daydreamed fantasies until today. It was way better than he had ever imagined, and controlling himself was hard in a way, and yet easy, for his nature seemed everlastingly gentle towards Oz, no matter the situation.
Oz wrapped his fingers around Gilbert’s messy locks to pull him back. Gil immediately did, and they were both left out of breath, gasping for air, but too close to each other to reach fresh one. Oz faintly smiled and Gilbert did the same. They were ridiculous, both, so out of shape, Oz practically sitting over his loyal servant’s lap. It was just too late to go back now, they both knew it.
Though his mind was misty and his vision not clear, Oz was suddenly reminded of the last time, of the words he had felt like saying and that were mercilessly interrupted by Mrs. Kate’s rush to get him home. He gulped, because he did have the words once, even though he had never truly been sure of them. Or more, he never felt like being sure was the right thing to do. He was quite sure now. Staring into Gilbert’s golden eyes, feeling his hand holding his, lips still moist from the last contact and craving for more, Oz had no doubt about it. Those feelings, he could probably name them now. “Hey, Gilbert. I… I think…”
Faced by the silence, filled by the sound of their fast heartbeats and heavy breaths, Gil mumbled. “Y-Yes… Oz?”
Oz opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. How could his courage fail now?, he wondered. Yet it did. The thought of saying it out loud scared him, in the end. More than anything else. He didn’t want to risk saying it, afraid it would turn real, afraid it would be swept away, like most real things are, sooner or later. He was being a coward, but he couldn’t avoid it. Gilbert, of course, and as always, even though such truth pained him more than anything else, could not guess Oz’s mind. “What is it, Oz?”
The blond boy answered only with a smile and slightly shook his head. “Nothing that matters.”
And with it, he leaned against Gilbert to kiss him once more.
It was okay not to say it. It was okay just to live it, after all. Him and Gilbert. Together as he never knew he wished so madly to be. And this time, they could go on until the sun went down.
Or at least until Alice interrupted.
Anyway, an eternity in their love drowned minds.