A/N: First of all, holy flipping crap! I really cannot believe I got over 20 reviews. I was just hoping for a few, haha! That's like awesome for me. And all the people who favorited the story and me as an author? Really? *THANK YOU!* THANK YOU so much. So for all of you who reviewed so wonderfully, I have made the awaited part 2 (lemon :O)

Wah. I tried my bestest. I hope you guys don't positively hate it. It continues pretty much right after last chapter, *lol* so...yes.

Enjoy the Gil x Oz smex.

Gil blushed as Oz followed that statement with a chaste, but inviting, kiss on the lips. "Gil?" he murmured, putting his hands on either side of Gil's face. "You're still cute." he said out of the blue.

"Uh?" Gil said brilliantly, hoping he wasn't blushing.

"Cute," Oz whispered, locking his wicked mouth onto Gil's neck and biting down gently. Gil gasped, his eyes fluttering shut.

"'M not cute…?" Gil mumbled as Oz licked at the fresh, painful looking bite mark on his neck.

"You're definitely handsome," Oz said casually. "But you're still Gil. And Gil is cute."

"I'm ten years older than you!" Gil said indignantly, his hands fluttering nervously up and down Oz's body. Was he really going to…?

Was it even possible…?

That was rape, wasn't it?! Oz was barely fifteen!

Well technically—


Oz beamed at Gil's shocked, screwed up expression and let his finger run over his right nipple again. Gil cursed. Explicitly.

"Gil!" Oz said, eyes widening mockingly. "When did you get such a dirty mouth?"

"When did you get such a dirty mind?" Gil retorted. He was painfully aroused all over again from those few touches and Oz, angelically smirking down at him, traces of his climax still visible on his cheeks, wasn't helping the situation. It took all of his willpower not to grab the arrogant young master by the hair, shove him down on the mattress, and just fuck him until—

WHOA. STOP, STOP, STOP. You will not be fucking anyone. Especially your master, who, ignoring "technicalities" is still fifteen years old while you are twenty-four. You will not go through with this. You will resist temptation…

But "temptation" was now bent over his chest, an almost curious expression on his face—and then he ran a tongue over the pert nipple, earning a strangled yelp from Gil.

Fuck resistance. The little bastard is asking for it.

He grabbed Oz by the hair and pulled on the silky strands hard, surprising Oz, who glanced up at Gil inquiringly, but showing no traces of the painful grip on his hair.

"Yeah?" he said sweetly, licking his lips tantalizingly.

Oz squeaked in surprise when Gil launched himself forward. Oz flew backwards, his back banging against the bed (for the third time that night.) His head hung over the edge of the mattress, but before he could lift it, there was Gil's body on his; desperate fingers fumbled with his pants, and was he using his teeth to rip open his shirt—?

A frantic sort of "ahh" gasping sound slipped past Oz's lips. Gil's hands, large and grasping, were holding his sides, thumbs stroking the soft skin—and those were his lips on his neck, that was his tongue sliding up against the skin, and those were his teeth scraping, biting, nipping—

"Aa—aah," Oz gasped again, his voice rising a few octaves. "G-Gil," he said breathlessly, his fingers burying themselves into Gil's black, wavy hair.

"Oz," Gil murmured huskily making Oz jerk up against him. His pants, where the hell had they gone—how had Gil—but who cared because oh God he could feel Gil's erection rubbing against his, and Oz mewled it was embarrassing—but he didn't mind. It was Gil, Gil whose fingers were trailing down his sides, making Oz squirm and gasp, and why was he breathing so loudly?

"Hn!" Oz squeaked when he felt a finger brush at his entrance.

And this time it was Oz who was blushing, it was his cheeks that were covered in that endearing scarlett color. Gil panted heavily against his master's neck, not wanting to (but oh he wanted to) proceed until he knew Oz was okay.

"N-n," Oz said incoherently, arching his back. Gil felt a small, trembling hand grasp at his hand and bring it up towards his mouth.

"Y-you can't do it just like th-that," Oz gasped, his eyes heavy. He held up Gil's finger and licked it, his pink tongue curling around the pale skin. (Did Oz realize how many people Gil had killed pulling the trigger with that finger?)

Gil closed his eyes. Watching Oz do that would only make his control worse.

What control? You've totally lost it.

All he was aware of was right then though, was Oz's mouth, hot and wet, closing over his fingers for the second time that night, coating them in saliva. His tongue, dammit that wicked tongue, flicking and caressing and sliding over the 's breath hitched when Oz finally pulled away.

"Okay," Oz said simply, a smile present in his voice.

Gil could feel Oz's legs spreading, and then his knees were locked against Gil's hips. Gil's eyes snapped open, his wet finger sliding back over Oz's entrance as if it was on an automatic control. Oz let out a high-pitched keening sound, his head hanging back over the edge of the bed.

Slowly, as carefully as he could manage, Gil slipped a finger in past the first ring of muscle.

Oz tensed and Gil bit his lip.

"Gil!" Oz gasped, his eyes wide.

"Sh, young master," Gil whispered, disentangling himself from the leg lock Oz had him in and sliding up Oz's body so he could nuzzle his neck. He pushed the finger in more, quickly, before Oz could tense around him again.

Oz's head was thrashing from side to side, a high broken moaning slipping past his bruised lips. "G-Gil, it feels…"

"I know," Gil said against his neck.

"…please." Oz's grip on Gil's hair tightened. He let out another whine when Gil inserted another finger and pressed himself down on Gil's hand. Gil hissed in pain when one of Oz's nails scratched at the sensitive skin of his neck.

Oz didn't think it was safe to feel so damn hot. His whole body felt flushed, and he could feel his hair, nearly dripping with sweat, sticking against his cheeks, his forehead, the back of his neck. Gil had done this before. There was nothing awkward about the way he scissored his fingers, probing deeper, making Oz make such degrading noises…

Oz suddenly shrieked, his eyes flying open and his head flinging back so violently that it banged against the side of the mattress. Gil gasped and pressed his lips to Oz's neck, hiding a smile. He'd found it, then.

"What?" Oz gasped, his voice cracking about seven times in that one syllable word.

"Did that feel good, young master?"

Oz tugged hard on Gil's hair. "Gil! Ohh…"

A third finger was pushed in.

Ow. That hurt a little now. Oz bit his lip, trying to ignore the pain and focus on Gil's lips brushing gently over his jaw, his tongue flicking out now and then—tried to focus on Gil's other hand, his fingers stroking feather light up his chest, trying to tug his open shirt off. That feat was near impossible what with Oz's hands entangled in Gil's hair and Gil only able to use one hand.

"Giil," Oz murmured, his voice almost a whine. Gil lifted his eyes, waiting for the command. "Gil, you can stop with the fingers," he whispered.

Gil obediently slipped his fingers from Oz and the boy moaned, his eyelids fluttering. "Y-you…have…something…?"

Gil was already spitting into his hand and using his saliva as makeshift lubricant. Oz flushed and tried his best not to breathe too heavily…it wasn't like he wasn't embarrassed enoughBut Gil looks so—

"Young master?" Gil whispered quietly, gently caressing Oz's pale thigh. "Is this…position okay?"

Why was Gil so freaking polite? Oz thought to himself, wishing he had the strength to be more irritated. I wish he'd just doit I can't take much more of this, I need something in me for heaven's sake…hurry up—

"It's fine, just…er. This'll be easier, won't it…?" Oz quickly flipped over onto his front, scuttling back a little so his head no longer hung over the edge. He sufficiently buried his face in the covers. There, that would hide his blush, wouldn't it? He lifted his right hand expectantly, and Gil laid his own hand over the back of it, weaving his fingers in between Oz's. Oz breathed slowly, trying to prepare himself. This was going to hurt, he knew. But he trusted Gil. Gil would make him happy, he knew he would…


Oz licked his lips and shivered when he felt Gil…there. Right there.

"Aargh," Oz whined impatiently. "Gil please just go!"

Gil hesitated a few more seconds. "Okay…"

And then—

Oz shrieked, the sound coming out half choked.

"Ow!" he said loudly, banging his free hand on the covers. "That hurts!"

"I'm sorry," Gil said through gritted teeth. Oz stared at him over his shoulder, wide-eyed, indignant, and in a hell of a lot of pain. He winced a little when he suddenly felt Gil's grip on his hand tighten. Ow, like he wasn't hurting him enough.

"Giil," Oz whined softly. He reached, getting a loose hold on some of Gil's black hair. He tugged. "Make it better."

Gil hissed. "Can I…move?"

Oz scrunched up his face. "Ah—okay. Slowly."

Gil gasped and moved back a little, bringing himself out—

"Aah," Oz said, screwing his eyes up. "Gil, it really hurts."

"It'll be…okay," Gil gasped. Could Oz feel that his whole body was trembling? Was Oz even aware of the raging desire pounding through his veins? God, he was tight…

"Nnng," Oz huffed, his nails digging into the covers when he was nearly all the way out. "Okay…it's okay, do it again," he whispered, bracing himself.

"Ah—" Oz choked, his back arching when Gil quickly slid in again. "Ahh," he groaned. "Giil!" he whined breathily. "When will it stop hurting?"

"Oz," Gil whispered, and Oz bit back a sigh when he felt Gil's finger trailing gently down his cheek, pushing back some of his sweaty hair. "Soon. Okay? You…you trust me?"



"Ack—oww. Ahh, Gil, please—"

"Shh," Gil murmured against the back of his neck. "It's okay."

Oz held back a ragged gasp, refusing to even make the smallest sound that sounded like a sob. No, he would not cry. Gil would feel awful, I'm fine really—

"Nng!" Oz hissed in surprise when he felt a tongue on his face, gently licking off the…tears.

Damn it.

"I'm fine," Oz said quickly, but Gil ignored him (that's a first!) and continued to lick and kiss at his face, caressing, tasting, comforting.

Oz felt himself blushing again.

Gil pulled in and out slowly, gasping heavily, trying to let Oz get used to the feeling, praying to God he wasn't in too much pain.

And Oz found that the sharp, stinging pain was…fading…slowly. Gil was being careful, and he was making it all right. Oz wondered vaguely if he was bleeding? Probably. It wasn't like their bodies were a perfect fit. No, they weren't. Oz hated to admit it, but Gil was older. He's Gil, but he is older. Physically and emotionally.

Oz breathed in raggedly, turning his head to look back at Gil.


Ahh…I wonder if it feels better for him? Oz wondered as Gil's tongue totally invaded his mouth. Gil pulled back a little and his grip on Oz's hand tightened. And then—

Oz shrieked loudly, pulling away from Gil's mouth and banging his head foreword on the bed. But this time, the scream wasn't from a sudden pain that made him feel like he was being ripped in two. No.

That had felt fantastic.

"Gil!" Oz gasped, his eyes wide, staring pointlessly at the bedspread. He quickly turned his head again and found Gil was smiling at him, though his eyes were a bit far off, distant, hazy. He's really turned on.

"I told you…" Gil said quietly. "You just need to get used to it…and let me…"

"…do that again!" Oz demanded, his voice gaining the I'm-your-master-and-you'll-do-what-I-say tone. Ignoring the painfully obvious breathlessness and the way his voice cracked.

Gil pulled back and thrust in again, hitting Oz's prostrate. Oz moaned, making chills run all over Gil's body. Oz arched his back and turned his head again to look at Gil with wide, shimmering eyes. "Gil," he said, his tone playful, his voice gasping.

Gil pulled back and rammed forward again, smashing his lips against Oz's in the process. Oz moaned into his mouth and Gil could feel Oz's hand under his own gripping the covers tightly enough to damage the fabric.

Oz had never felt more explosive pleasure in his life. Not ever. Was this even possible? Ahh…that felt so good. He didn't want it to stop. Ever.

"Hah!" Oz gasped, his voice coming out in a squeak. He pressed himself back against Gil. "More, Gil. More."

Gil had to stop himself from growling. Don't get ridiculous he commanded himself, thinking it was a wonder he even had a thread of common sense left. What with Oz's writhing, sweaty body underneath him, his lips working hard against his own, that tight, hot entrance that was accepting his length more readily by the second—he was lucky he hadn't turn into the equivalent of a wild animal.

"Giil," Oz moaned against his lips, his breath hitching when Gil moved down to attack his throat. Oz clenched the bed covers even more tightly, trying to stop himself from being pushed off the bed as Gil's hips thrust against him. His skin chaffed against the coarse bed covers and he whimpered quite involuntarily. "Nng. You're…" he gasped, his body jerking. "…so good….Gil." He gasped again, feeling his insides tighten. "Mm! …Gil! I think…Gil, I feel—"

"You're going to come," Gil whispered huskily into his ear, his tongue flicking out over the skin and making Oz whimper. "I am too," he latched his lips onto Oz's neck as he pulled out, readying himself—he was so close, so close…

He drove himself in one more time and Oz yelled, cutting off his own cries by biting down on the blanket. Gil's teeth dug into Oz's neck, his own orgasm spurred on by his masters cries. Oz clenched around him, and Gil swore he almost passed out right then and there from the feeling.

Oz gasped loudly, lifting his head from the blanket, his body trembling under Gil. Gil let out a long heavy sigh and pulled out of Oz, rolling over and landing on his back with a dull, heavy thump next to Oz.

And for several minutes, the only sound in the room was that of their heavy breathing as they tried in vain to catch their breaths. Gil was still trying to blink the white stars out of his eyes when he felt a hand grab at his wrist, felt fingers trace up his arm and tickle at his neck. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch that now caressed his face.


Gil blinked heavily. When his vision focused, the first thing he saw was Oz leaning over him. The little white stars surrounded his face, and with his half-smile, the expression both sinful and innocently angelic, his golden blonde hair hanging around his face, his green eyes shining, Gil thought he had somehow died and gone, miraculously, to heaven.


Then Oz leaned down and smacked him one on the lips, giving just enough nip to prove to Gil he was not dead or in heaven (really, he must be delusional if he thought he'd made it there.)

"Gil," Oz whispered, wrapping his arms around Gil and burying his face in his neck. "Gil, I really love you. Even as you are now, with Raven. I love you."

Gil's eyes widened over Oz's blonde head. Slowly, he brought a hand down and stroked Oz's head once.

"Thank you…"

Oz smiled against his neck, and Gil's heart swelled. He loved that smile so much. No matter what it conveyed, no matter what it was hiding, or what it wasn't.

That smile was Oz's—and Gil loved Oz. He breathed in slowly and swallowed.




"Oh my, my, what have we interrupted, Emily?"

Oz whirled around and blushed when he saw Break standing in the doorway, the hideous Emily positively leering at the pantless pair. Though he made no move to dive for the covers, unlike Gil, who was scrambling desperately for them. It was rather difficult, considering they were lying on the end of the bed on top of the covers.

"Gilbert, what have you done to the brat?"

"Ah!" Gil said desperately, finally getting ahold of the top of the covers. He pulled back sharply. Oz yelped as he and Gil were promptly sent flying over the end of the bed, the bedcovers flying and settling over them like a deflating parachute.

"G-get out!" Gil said furiously, his head poking out from a space in the mess of covers now on the ground. He glanced desperately at his gun, lying useless on his nightstand several feet away.

Break beamed. "What kind of responsible adult would I be if I condoned this behavior? You are an adult, Gilbert. You should know better."

Gil blushed to the roots of his hair. "You're not a freaking responsible adult, Break!" he snarled. "So don't worry about it and leave!"

Oz giggled from under the covers. Yeah, easy for him to laugh, he was hiding nice and safe under the blankets.

Break leaned up on his tiptoes, grinning happily. "I don't know, Gilbert…you've been awfully naughty…"

"Y—haah!" Gil choked, his hand slamming down on Oz's back. He shoved the boy away as best he could through the covers. "Don't you dare try that again!"

"My, my, I really did interrupt something," Break said breezily.

"What dirty boys," Emily snickered.

"Please behave, Gilbert," Break smiled at him and promptly turned on his heel, leaving the room.

"At least he shut the door," Gil muttered blackly. He got up and lunged for the lock, clicking it in place. "Shit." He blushed again. He would never, ever be able to look Break in the face for…

For forever, basically.

Oz finally found his way out of the bundle of covers. He smiled cutely at Gil. "Don't look so embarrassed."

Gil threw him a dark look. "Oz…"

Oz stood up, a bit shakily. He was really tired after everything. But, dragging the bedcovers around him, he stumbled his way over to Gil who sat on the bed hugging a pillow. He clambered up onto the bed and leaned against Gil, forcing his servant to flop down on the bed. "Gil," he murmured happily. "I love you."

All other thoughts (like just how he was planning on avoiding Break for the rest of forever) left Gil's mind. He blinked, and looked down at Oz, who was snuggled up against his side, his eyes closed, a small smile gracing his features.

He traced Oz's lips with a finger, and Oz murmured playfully, his voice slurring a little from exhaustion, "Don't try and seduce me while my guard is down, Gil." He threw an arm over Gil's chest and his smile widened a little. "Calm your stamina."

Gil laughed softly, adjusting himself carefully so he was lying on a pillow, Oz still cuddled up against him, his smile stuck fast on his face.

"Goodnight, Oz."

A/N: So that's the end. Tada! *bangs head on table* I think I epically failed. Haha! I'm sure some people will tell me song. You can bringz it *gestures to bring it with hands* :P. Be gentle? =D

I'm working on a new Oz x Gil fic atm. In a bath. Muahaha. I'll try and get that up soon. Thank you again for the reviews for the first part, and I hope you liked this...O_o I actually ended it without Break coming in, but it was painfully cute, and I wanted Break to come in again. Haha, I couldn't help myself.

Thank you MyVampireEyes for proof reading. And thank you (MVE) and BleedingVampireLove for inspring me to finish editing this w/ that roleplay...Lol. *dead*

P.S. If anyone is curious to see one of Oz's wicked smiles and for some reason cannot picture in your mind, just look at my avatar. I died when I saw him.