The title doesn't really have much to do with the fic, but it was the name of the song I was listening to. Go check out Vienna Teng. As usual with mine, italics means thought - and all these are from Oz's view. Enjoy~

This was not how he had envisioned his evening. Of all the terrible plots that sprung to mind when Break merrily announced that Oz was quite welcome to go home for a bit as things were
"...quiet and may well be for a while, and you're mostly useless anyway~", having Gilbert lying on his bed unconscious and struggling for breath had not been one of them.

The chain had come out of nowhere while they were walking across the grounds to the Vessalius household, and somewhere between Gilbert's warm palm on the top of Oz's head and Alice's furious scream, Oz had swayed while everything had faded to black.

Alice dove straight in once fully transformed and struck an immediate blow with the scythe, slashing twice at the grotesque body that had come for them. Gilbert had hollered for her to back off, and snarling with aggravation, Alice had complied but not before belting the offending creature several hundred yards away and turning to Gilbert with a savage expression.
"It's rogue, stupid rabbit! It's fallen through some sort of hole in the Abyss that's why it's so messed up." He'd gone to explain more, but Alice had nodded remarkably calmly and growled in agreement before answering him.
"I got you. He'll take my body if I get too close. I know 'em."

Holding the weapon out in front of her, Alice kept the advancing chain at length while Gilbert hauled Oz over his shoulder and quickly placed him out of reach of the battle, propped against a tree before turning on his heel and hurrying back to Alice, yanking his guns out of their holsters as he did so.
"Get a move on, stupid rabbit!"
"You want to do it, seaweed head?" Was the roared reply as the scythe swung through the air and the chain retreated again. In answer, Gilbert fired one shot between where he guessed the eyes were – empty sockets in the face of the thing that leaked black liquid. The bullet simply lodged into one of the sockets, a strange golden metallic iris now staring back at him.
"Seaweed for brains as well, have you?"
"Shut up!"

Behind them, Oz convulsed in his unconsciousness and Alice swore none too lightly under her breath. Unwilling to stop her this time, Gilbert allowed her to slash closer at the chain and rip its delicate belly open before leaping back again as a foul smelling gas escaped with a hiss. Gilbert opened his mouth to warn Alice to keep that gas at bay – because Oz was over there, unconscious Oz and neither of them would reach him in time if the gas strayed his way – but instead the only sound he made was a choked groan of agony as a thorny tentacle suddenly ripped from the wound in the thing's stomach and plunged almost completely through his shoulder.

He stumbled forwards, hand reaching up to rip out the appendage before more sailed cleanly his way and impaled him through arms and one slashed open his own stomach before trying to worm its way inside his body. From somewhere to his right he heard Alice shriek in fury and in his swimming vision Gilbert suddenly saw a blonde head appear at his side and a blade slash and slice him free.
"O-Oz, get away. Not... not safe. I'm alright."

Instead of his master's face looking up at him however, Gilbert was stunned speechless to recognise the face of his master's own little sister, and a furious face at that, her normally light and gentle voice much harder than Gilbert had ever heard it before.
"You, Gil, most certainly are not." Savagely, she tore at the remaining bits of chain still in his body and didn't apologise in the slightest before resorting to cutting the more stubborn bits out of him, Gilbert's howl of pain piercing the air before she clamped her hand over his mouth and hissed at him to breathe before looking up at the also stunned Alice and abandoning all sense of modesty and ladylike sensibilities and shouting at her to – in no less words than these:
"Hurry the fuck up!"

By the time Oz awoke, the chain had been thoroughly dealt with and Alice was back in human form but scanning the area and still snarling, Ada's voice was coming from somewhere behind him, soft but desperate and when he had turned round, he'd frozen, rooted to the spot.

Gilbert's coat lay a few feet away from him, covered in blood, a scarlet trail leading off towards Ada's voice where his servant was on his knees clutching at his abdomen as Ada frantically tried to bind what wounds she could, with surprising expertise.

Gilbert had looked up then, pain twisting his face into a grimace even as he attempted a smile.
"I'll be fine, Oz." Immediately after that, he'd pitched forwards into Ada's arms and passed out. Oz scrambled up and shot over to the pair of them and went to shake Gilbert's shoulders before Ada's hand shot out and smacked his away.
"You'll hurt him even more! We have to get him inside." She gently hoisted Gilbert up and allowed Oz to support his torso before calling Alice over and the pair of them – with some indignation on Alice's part – supporting his legs, and the three of them awkwardly making their way into the house.

Once inside, Ada had taken full control and Oz – though still shaken and thoroughly disturbed by the entire situation – this was Gil, Gil that was bleeding in his arms – suddenly saw with complete clarity just how much she'd grown. Within thirty seconds there were five servants at the ready and several more scurrying off to find first aid equipment. With five extra, getting Gilbert upstairs had actually been a fairly easy task and immediately he'd been put gently in an already run bath in Oz's suite, and gently they began peeling the clothes off him, stuck as they were by his blood.

It was as soon as Alice's hands went to the buckle on Gilbert's belt that Oz snapped to awareness and yelped.
"What are you doing? Out, the pair of you! He'll have a hernia!"
Ada had laughed despite the situation, Alice had protested vehemently that she saw nothing wrong with getting Gilbert naked – "...and it's not like I haven't seen it already. Stupid seaweed head always forgets a towel..." before Ada and one of the servants had grasped her by the shoulders and dragged her out in order to prepare the bed for him with the promise of meat if she cooperated.

With shaking hands, Oz had returned to the still unconscious Gil and fumbled with his belt before steady hands covered his, and he met the blue eyed gaze of one of the servants, and a gentle
"Master Oz, we'll take it from here" sent him retreating slowly into a corner of the bathroom, where he sank down the wall with his knees in front of him, unable to tear his wide-eyed gaze away.

He watched in horrified fascination as the servants both pulled and cut away Gilbert's clothes and bathed delicately as the disgustingly deep wound over his stomach, and Oz had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from gagging at the sight of it. With precise and meticulous care the wound was bathed and rinsed, one of the servants stitching it shut as best she could before they lifted him gently out of the bath and laid him on a makeshift stretcher and drying him gently with soft towels – towels that Oz tried to focus on, rather than the raw wounds all over Gilbert's body, the old scar and the appalling scarlet water draining away in the bath. It was only after a nightshirt that was decidedly too big for Gilbert – likely one of Uncle Oscar's - had been slipped over his head that Oz was called over again, to lift Gilbert with the others and carry him to the bed.

Here all but one of the servants left, and it was the one with the blue eyes that had seen to helping Gil out of his trousers that pulled up a chair for Oz and gently pushed him into it, positioning him at Gilbert's side before kneeling at his side and taking his hands.
"Master Oz, I need you to listen to me."
"Will he wake up?"

The maid paused here, before squeezing his hands lightly in an attempt at comfort.
"I don't know. That's up to him, but Gilbert is strong. He's fought off worse. If and when he wakes, we need to flush his system; do you understand that, young master?"
Oz tried not to blink uncomprehendingly, he really did, but Gil was right in front of him and wounded and that was really the only thing he could think of. Surely Gilbert's bowels could come later?
"He may have toxins in the wound. We need to help him flush them out. Your sister is downstairs making an antidote for the most common that appear in cases like these, and we will bring up water as well. He needs to take the antidote and drink as much as he can. I know you are not going to leave him, so will you see to it, as his master?"
"Yes." The reply was immediate, and the maid rose to kiss his forehead before leaving quietly and shutting the door behind her.

Finally alone, Oz pitched forward before catching himself on the side of the bed, supporting himself with what little strength he had left. He felt completely drained, and something within him ached so deeply that he sank his forehead onto Gilbert's bare arm in the desperate need to feel the warm skin against his own – the reassurance that he was still alive – and whined like a wounded animal.

He stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity, and indeed, the sky had long since gone dark by the time the door creaked quietly open once more and Ada slipped into the room.
Oz raised his head and looked wearily at her, and she moved to hug him, awkward as the position was with her holding a large glass of water and a small mug of what must have been the antidote.
"If he doesn't wake up in another hour, you'll have to get him to drink this somehow anyway." Oz simply nodded and Ada looked over at Gil in worry. She didn't need to say how awful he looked, the weight of the situation bore heavily down on them both before Ada reached out and placed her palm against Gilbert's forehead.

"He isn't burning up. Keep an eye on that, as soon as his temperature starts to rise, you need to give him that." She gestured at the mug on the bedside table and squeezed her brother's shoulder briefly. "I'm heading to bed. If you want to sleep yourself, come wake me and I'll watch him. You know where my room is." Oz caught her hand and held it against his cheek for a moment, eyes closed.
"Thank you."
Apparently unable to resist, Ada bent down and pulled him into a tight hug before letting go abruptly, moving as if to turn to Gil but thinking better of it and exiting the room without another glance in Gilbert's direction.

Alone once more, Oz allowed his thoughts to drift briefly over his sister and how much she knew and was capable of, how much she'd changed and just how left behind he felt before Gilbert sucked in a strained breath and his attention was focused entirely on his servant once more. Reaching out slowly, Oz tentatively took one of Gilbert's much larger hands in his own, jumping slightly when the fingers curled reflexively and caught his in their grip. He stared for a long time at the hand in his own, turning it over from time to time and wondering over just how much Gilbert too had grown. He traced the calluses gently and worried the rough skin with his fingernail. How different these hands were from those he'd once knew. These were hands accustomed to holding a gun, to channelling the Raven's power, to dealing with so many things, from Pandora to Alice and Oz felt utterly and wholly humbled at how all of it was for him. Everything this man had become was all for him, and Oz found himself with a lump in his throat and trembling slightly under the weight of the realisation of just how much Gilbert cared.

"What kind of a master am I, eh Gil?" Tenderly he brushed the unruly dark hair out of the other's face, choking quietly on a desperate sob. "How can I even call myself your friend, let alone master? I let you... I let you..." Here Oz gave in and dropped his head onto Gilbert's unconscious form and tried to keep his weeping as silent as possible.
I'm so useless. If it weren't for me, Gilbert wouldn't be in this state.
If it weren't for me, Gilbert wouldn't have to do what he does.
If it weren't for me he wouldn't... he wouldn't be suffering.

A sob stuttered into a laugh here, and Oz punched Gilbert none too gently on the arm and momentarily fumed at him.
"But it's not just me you know! It's you as well. You with your protectiveness, you with your worrying, you with your drunken pleas, you with your devotion, you with your 'young master' and you... you... you with your silly hair!" On the last accusation Oz's voice broke and again he was overcome and this time he raised his arm to his face in an attempt to stop the tears as he continued to rage.
"Why? Why Gil? I'm not worth that. I don't... I'm not..."

Oz gave up trying to calm himself and gripped the hand he'd still not let go of and buried his face once more in Gilbert's shoulder, his last admission sounding as if his heart had broken.
"I don't deserve you."
But, God, I want you. I don't ever want to let you go.

Oz spent the majority of the night in a daze, half curled into Gilbert's side and absently toying with the hand he still held in his own, afraid to shut his eyes even for a moment lest he fall asleep. Somewhere around midnight Oz raised his head and wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffing in misery before he froze, hardly daring to believe he'd really heard the groan from below him.

Eyes wide, Oz stared down at the reluctantly stirring Gilbert and heard him groan lightly again before Oz reached out and touched his cheek.
Upon hearing his name, the other's eyes immediately opened and focused after a moment or two on the distraught boy in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing except a croak left his throat and Oz immediately started flapping and reached for the water on the bedside before offering it to Gilbert, who attempted to take a sip from the upturned glass and then to take it, only for the water to spill and Gil's eyes to widen in something akin to panic. When he next spoke his words were clear, fear making them distinctive.
"I can't move. I can't move anything."

Oz looked down immediately at Gil's stomach where he knew the worst wound was and his mind immediately flew back to the warning about the toxins. Flustered, Oz attempted to dry the spilled water and launched into a rushed explanation.
"AH- okay, so the chain may or may not have been poisonous, sowebathedyourwounds but there might be something nasty still-"
Here Oz paused and eyed Gilbert's midriff warily before resuming his tirade.
"YES! Ada made it for you; it combats all the common poisons so it should work and-"
"Antidote, Oz. I need it."
Blinking, Oz nearly threw the glass of water he'd been holding in the air in his hurry to grab the mug off the bedside.

Once he had it in hand however, he paused and looked at Gilbert, utterly bewildered.
"If you can't move, how am I supposed to give it to you?"
The flush the rose up on Gilbert's cheeks would have delighted Oz at any other situation and he'd have found the stuttering answer adorable had not the words Gilbert had been trying to say caused the same reaction in him.
"M-mouth t-t-to mouth. Only... I mean..."
"I, ah. Okay. I'll just. Give me a moment."

Flustered, Oz fumbled with the mug and stared at its contents for a moment. This was only Gil. He knew the seaweed head through and through didn't he? He was his master after all. What kind of master would he be if he couldn't even do this? Steeling himself, Oz raised the mug to his own lips and took a vile taste caught Oz completely off guard and before he'd even realised he'd done it, the antidote had been spat straight back into the mug and a small sound of disgust had escaped him. Oz stared in abject horror at the mug in his hands. I can't give him this now! I just... A groan interrupted his thought pattern and Gilbert huffed with the effort to speak.
"Oz, please."
"But I just-"
"Don't care. Please."

Taking a deep breath, Oz again took a gulp of the liquid and hovered over Gil's flushed and sweaty face. The eldest opened his mouth to speak again and Oz lowered his head fixing his lips firmly to Gil's while supporting the other's head and forcing the liquid into his mouth. Trying not to acknowledge the furious blush he knew was blooming on his cheeks, Oz fumbled with the mug and took another mouthful before leaning over Gilbert again and repeating the process and tried desperately not to notice how easily Gilbert's mouth opened for him or how warm he was, or how soft his lips were.

The antidote was quickly finished and Oz allowed Gil's head to sink gently down onto the pillow as he put the mug back on the stand with trembling hands. By the time he mustered the courage to turn back around and face Gilbert again; he had once again passed out on the bed, this time breathing gently. Oz quietly issued a sigh of relief – at least they had managed to avoid whatever awkwardness would have no doubt appeared between them after that – and looked a little closer at Gil's face, noticing with no small amount of happiness that the discomfort that had been previously etched on it had vanished and he looked much more at ease. Running a hand through his hair, Oz made a mental note never to ask what on earth it was Ada did in her spare time, but to thank her for being good at it.

Trusting the antidote to take care of Gilbert just for a moment, Oz decided to contemplate the other problem at hand; namely the churning in his stomach, sweaty palms and the rapidly rising interest in his shorts. His hand moved from his hair to clap over his eyes, and Oz very seriously thought about letting out every curse he knew in the loudest voice he could muster. This was so not happening. Not here, of all places. Gilbert was unconscious, for goodness sake. Unconscious, injured, sweaty from the fever with damp hair sticking attractively to his still flushed face, his lips slightly parted to breathe in soft sighs and- this was so not the time!

Contemplating smacking his head repeatedly against the nearest hard surface, Oz desperately tried to think of awful things. Break in a bikini. No. Break works a bikini, apparently. Eliot. Reo. Eliot and Reo. DAMMIT. Lady Sharon drunk. No. Lady Sharon in a bad mood? SUCCESS. Thank you, you terrifying woman.

Grinning like an idiot who'd been given cake, Oz turned his attention seriously back to Gilbert and decided to take a look at the worst of his wounds. Moving to straddle Gilbert's legs – something he was totally fine about – after all, Gilbert's mortification if he woke up to find Oz in this position would be totally worth any problems that might possibly arise again in doing so. Unable to stop the inane grin morphing into wicked one, Oz gently undid the necessary buttons, expression turning mournful for a moment as he ran his finger along the scar Gilbert already bore for his sake, before it disappeared into the gauze and Oz bent lower, so absorbed in figuring out how to remove the gauze without waking or wounding Gil that he barely realised he'd chosen to rest his head on Gilbert's navel, and while one hand propped him up on one side of his servant, the other was slung casually across his crotch.

Needless to say, when this was the sight Gilbert was gifted with when he eventually woke again, his reaction – as far as he was concerned – was entirely to be expected given the situation. Oz on the other hand, disagreed rather vehemently. There was no situation in the world, so he said, that required bucking like a horse and sending your master to the floor. And then, almost as an afterthought, he added:
"All I was doing was checking your wounds, and that's the thanks I get. What kind of a servant are you? I thought you were going to di-"

Here Oz halted quite suddenly, and averted his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. Gil blinked at him for a moment or two, before looking down at himself and remembering just how badly he'd been hurt. Glancing out of the window, he saw that it was well into the night, and though he couldn't see the clock in the room he guessed from the silence of the house that it was well past midnight. Shifting uncomfortably to sit up – he reached for Oz's face and rubbed his thumb across the boy's cheekbone absently.
"I'm alright, Oz. I've had worse than this with much poorer care-" Gilbert paused for a moment and pulled Oz by the hair towards his face to get a better look at his face, brow crinkling in concern.
"Hey, have you been asleep at all? Or have you been..." Oz punched him lightly and wiped at his eyes, as though that would make any difference.
"Idiot. Of course I haven't been crying. What kind of master do you think I am?"

Gil opened his mouth to answer, before changing his mind and simply pulling the blonde into a loose hug that didn't aggravate his injuries.
Oz suddenly went limp in his grip and Gil panicked momentarily, trying to pull back and see what was wrong before he found himself pinned to the bed and Oz's arms around him squeezing far too tight to even be bearable under normal circumstances.
"I- ah! Oz... Please let... ow...I-" Finding his usual protests useless, Gilbert allowed his voice to fall to an unhappy whine, eyes squeezing shut as they watered.

The deep ache was so intense that he barely noticed Oz release him until he felt something warm and soft against his eyelids, and with a jolt he realised that Oz was nuzzling his tears away. Flustered as only he knew how to be, his flail was halted when he heard Oz muttering under his breath.
"Thought I'd lost you, stupid seaweed head. Don't do that again, please." The boy sighed and dropped his face into the junction of Gilbert's neck and shoulder and fisting his hands in the nightshirt the other wore.
"I can't do it without you."

Touched, Gil tentatively pulled the desolate blonde further into his arms and rocked him slowly.
"You don't have to. I'll never die." Pulling back, Gil brushed Oz's hair out of his face and smiled tenderly at him. "So long as you need or want me, I will never die. I will always be there for you."
"I wasn't for you."
"You are now. That's all that matters."
"How can you stay with me after all this?"
"You need to ask, Oz?"
"I-I need to hear it."

Gilbert sighed into Oz's hair and held him close.
"Because you're my master. No matter what, you're my master. That doesn't change, and neither do my... feelings, for you."
Oz shuddered in his arms and gripped his shirt tighter.
"Please Gil, I need to hear-"
"I love you."
The relief that flooded the blonde was a release that lifted a great weight of his shoulders. He was quiet for a long minute, before he laughed lightly into Gil's shoulder. He didn't need to look up to know there would be an outrageous blush on Gilbert's cheeks, and he was likely averting his eyes in mortification while unable to actually let him go. This of course, was just too good to pass up.
"I bet you do, you old perv."

The outraged spluttering was enough to convince Oz that Gil really was still here, still alright – or at least as alright as could be expected given his current circumstance, and he laughed in delight at Gilbert's expression before leaning down on impulse and pressing a delirious kiss to the other's lips.

It shocked them both to the core; the pair of them staring wide eyed at each other before Oz leant back rather violently and clapped a hand to his mouth.
"I'm sorry! I- I don't know why I did that..."
It only took one look at Gilbert's face, his mouth open in a soft "Oh", eyes hooded with a sudden rush of desire, and his expression that of a broken, starving man before Oz was leaning in again, this time met halfway by Gilbert as their hands wove into the other's hair. Gilbert's mouth was hungry against his, and Oz found himself struggling to keep up until he nipped gently at the raven's lower lip, and the other's mouth opened submissively and a soft moan lilted from his throat as Gilbert practically melted beneath him. Oz grinned into Gilbert's mouth and whispered to him.
"For the record, I love you too, seaweed head~"

The kiss was slower and deeper now, Oz taking the time to explore Gilbert's mouth fully while the other lovingly suckled at his probing tongue, causing the heat in his groin to double in intensity. Tentatively, as though testing the boundaries, Oz felt Gil's tongue flick against his own and Oz moaned, which caused the hands in his hair to tighten and the kiss to grow heated as the hunger Oz had previously felt returned to Gilbert full force.

Oz pulled away for a moment, looking at Gilbert's flushed face and lapping softly at the lips that followed his own to grasp his attention.
"What was in that antidote?"
The pause was minimal, but enough for Oz to decide medicine had definitely not been all that was in that mug – and if it had, the side-effects were extraordinary. Gilbert had cocked his head, and suddenly laughed.
"Who cares?"

Without waiting for a response, Gilbert had pulled Oz back down and claimed his mouth again, and before Oz could protest about how that was no way to treat his master, his mouth had moved up to suckle at the boy's earlobe, drawing a low groan from the other as Gilbert's tongue once more came into play.

Oz didn't have time to wonder how far this was going to go, as he suddenly realised that somewhere between moving from lips to ear, Gil had also undone his shorts and was currently sliding his hands up his shirt, skimming his sides so gently it was almost ticklish. Wondering with a fair amount of amusement whether Gilbert would even remember this in the morning, Oz rocked against the hardness he could feel beneath him, resulting in the mouth at his ear breaking away and a forehead hitting his shoulder as Gilbert panted and groaned softly before copying the movement.

The two moved against each other for a moment or two, their heavy breathing loud in the silent room before Oz reared back with a desperate groan and he began tearing at the remaining buttons on Gilbert's nightshirt.
"Want you. So much."
In return, Gilbert attempted to divulge Oz of his own clothing and managed to get his shirt off as his own came completely undone and was ripped a little as Oz lowered his head and bit at Gilbert's chest, causing the other to buck under the touch and weave a hand into Oz's hair, apparently torn between pulling him closer or pushing him elsewhere. Oz smirked against Gilbert's skin and between where he suckled hard with the intent to leave a mark; a claim, his words wisped over Gilbert's skin like his breath, causing gooseflesh to rise and Gilbert to arch into the touch with a garbled version of his name.
"I want inside you." Kiss, suckle. "But in your state, I may hurt you." Lick, bite. "So perhaps..."

Oz's mouth moved steadily downwards, his tongue tracing patterns on Gil's skin as the other fisted the sheets and keened softly as Oz chuckled darkly against his skin. Nipping at a protruding hipbone – had Gil always been this thin? – Oz moved torturously slowly down until he hovered over Gilbert's erection and he ran a finger up the underside firmly, grinning wickedly at the way Gilbert's head cracked back into the headboard, the pain apparently not registering as he exhaled slowly and shook under his master's touch. Oh~ what a fabulous game this was.

Oz blew onto the tip and watched in fascination as a pearly drop of pre-cum dribbled down the side. He traced the trail back up with his tongue and his eyes flicked upwards as Gilbert shouted and writhed, to meet his servant's wild eyes. Changing tactics, Oz ran his teeth gently up the length, causing Gilbert to jolt in agonized pleasure. A soft nibble to the sac below and Oz pulled back and smirked.
"Watch, Gilbert. That's an order."
Gilbert was helpless to tear his eyes away anyway, as Oz tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and pulled the tip slowly into his mouth before suckling gently. Gilbert shuddered and sobbed softly, bringing his hand up to bite the back of it. It was maddening, but it wasn't enough.

"Please." Oz looked up to meet Gilbert's eyes again, and though his plea was muffled by his hand, his straining hips were indication enough. The sinful grin grew across Oz's face again.
"Have you been a good boy, Gil?"
Gil groaned and shuddered harder as Oz punctuated his words with firm swipes of his tongue, sometimes pressing into the slit.
"I don't think you have. How wanton you are, wanting something like this from your master."
Gil's eyes widened and he choked on a sob of pleasure as Oz pressed further into him, pushing his legs apart and up, exposing him completely.
"Bad servants ought to be punished. And you've been awful with your indiscretions lately, you know."

The tongue against his entrance was totally unexpected, and while it didn't last long, a few licks up and down, a suckle and then a penetration, once, twice, as deep as that tongue could go, it reduced Gilbert to nothing but a gibbering puddle of pleasure, and his protests died in his throat as his erection was engulfed in an impossible heat and he found himself unable to stop from thrusting upwards into it, lost in a haze of pleasure. Using lips, teeth and tongue Oz reduced Gil to incoherency, even humming around him simply for the desperate mewl and clutching grip in his hair that the action produced. Listening intently as Gil's cries grew louder and louder, relishing the sound, Oz had to press his hand against his own erection to take the edge off and pulled away just as Gil came close to climax.

The whine of protest was simply delicious, but Oz hushed him and claimed his lips again, smirking into the other's mouth as Gilbert clutched at him and pleaded into his mouth between kisses.
"You want to finish already? But the fun is just about to start~"
Gilbert looked at Oz with glazed eyes and a deep blush dusting his cheeks while he bit his lip, waiting for Oz to make his move.
"You're so pretty like this Gil. Stay right there."

Oz's eyes sparkled with mischievous victory as he dashed into the bathroom and returned holding a jar of some sort of cream, retrieved from the first aid kit left behind by the servants. Gilbert didn't even have to look at the label to know what it was, and he didn't know whether to be appalled or excited that Oz knew what he needed in this situation.

Taking his position back on the bed, Oz unscrewed the cap and dipped his fingers into the lubricant. He hissed and rubbed it between his fingers.
"S'cold." It didn't stop him however, from immediately reaching to prep himself, sliding one finger in cleanly before looking at Gil's face and almost coming there and then from the plain desire written clearly there. He endured a few moments of that hungry gaze before moving to straddle Gilbert's chest.
"Shouldn't this be your job?"

Gilbert didn't need telling twice. Slicked fingers batted Oz's hand away and the blonde arched as Gilbert's fingers filled him and began stretching gently. As a distraction against any discomfort, Gil took Oz's hand and brought it to his mouth, suckling provocatively on his fingers, pleased at how captivated Oz was that he added another finger without any complaint. Oz was panting, rocking back against Gil's fingers in no time, his hooded eyes suddenly flying wide open as the clever fingers finally found the sensitive spot inside him, and the triumphant smirk that appeared on Gil's face was so out of place and so goddamn hot that Oz pulled himself off the fingers and positioned himself over Gilbert's erection, taking it in hand and slicking it before guiding him slowly inside, if only to wipe that smug look from his servant's face.

They both groaned as Oz sank down onto Gilbert completely, Oz throwing his head back and biting his lip as the combined pleasure-pain sent him dangerously close to an early finish. Holding still not only to adjust but to regain some semblance of control, Oz delighted in abusing Gil by experimentally clenching around him, causing the other to jerk violently and groan each time.

Deeming himself ready, Oz rose up on his knees and sank back down again, gasping at the sudden shock of pleasure and braced himself on Gilbert's shoulders. On the second ascent, Gil's hips thrust upwards and deep into him and Oz allowed himself a hoarse shout as Gil became insistent, his thrusts blindingly accurate, making Oz's vision swim with pleasure.

Oz didn't notice that he'd fallen forward somewhat until Gil claimed his mouth, sinking a hand into his hair to hold him there, hips moving relentlessly and the both of them moaning with abandon into the other's mouth. The other hand grasped at his hip to guide Oz's movements, but it didn't take long before Oz got the hang of how to move to please the both of them, and instead the hand moved to wrap around the blonde's erection, immediately undoing him as he came with a low cry into Gilbert's mouth, the tightening of Oz's body sending Gilbert's himself careening over the edge, gasping Oz's name desperately as they rode out the last of their pleasure.

Oz managed not to collapse on top of Gil, and instead fell at his side, trying not to notice how he stirred in a pathetic attempt at interest as he felt Gilbert slide obscenely out of him. Gil, for his part simply laughed lightly under his breath and turning onto his side before pulling Oz to his chest. Oz stiffened slightly, wondering where on earth this would take them now.
"Are we going to be alright?"
Gil placed a gentle kiss on Oz's shoulder, smiling contentedly into his skin.
"Just fine, young master."
Tired and sated as he was, the nostalgic term brought a sleepy smile to his face.

Oz was woken the next morning by a shriek that – had anyone else been the other occupant of the bed – could not have been defined as belonging to a male and a thump as Gilbert landed unceremoniously on the floor, followed by a tirade of curses and Oz cracked up with delight and the wonderful feeling of retribution as he rolled onto his side to look at where his servant lay sprawled, swearing on the floor.

Yeah, we'll be alright, you and I.

AN: Well, Ada's involvement totally wasn't planned, but never mind. If you've read the latest chapters of Pandora Hearts, you'll know and understand why she popped up like she did. Ten pages in Microsoft Word. And at 2:00am. If there are any mistakes, they are my own and I apologise, and at 2:00am with no coffee there will be some there for which I will no doubt beat myself over later. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. First time writing Pandora Hearts, though I've been fapping over the fandom for ages.