Beta'd by the wonderful MattieCanadaEh~
Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts
Note: I'm trying to get a feel for the characters~ and thought the fandom needed some fluff with recent chapters.
Summary: Oz convinces Gil to cool off in a creek with him on a hot day, and splashing wars ensue. Post-Abyss.
It had been Oz's idea. He was adament in his decision that they would seek out the stream located somewhere in the woods- maybe that way, or no, it was still a little further, he guided them. It had been a while, he had admitted sheepishly once Gilbert had finally tripped over a rogue branch in the brush they were wandering through. Despite the itchy scratches and sore feet, the shade of leaves and green tinted canopies were better than the melting heat that they had been experiencing before.
"Told you I would find it," the blonde announced proudly as a glorious clearing in the throng of plants parted for them. He then rushed towards the quiet stream precariously, successfully adding an obnoxious touch of Oz to any serenity that had been previously established. Gilbert sighed, exasperated with the entire quest already and mumbled about it only taking an hour.
From the way that Oz had described it, the destination was quite different from what was expected. It was simple, nothing extravagant or breathtaking. The stream itself could be leapt across with ease in one bound. Although moving languidly, the water was mostly shallow enough to see the rocks and twigs cluttering the bottom, and only a few feet at the deepest point. Larger stones sat on the edge of the stream, pale greys and tans of different shapes and sizes. The water wasn't murky, but it was like looking through a looking glass with a musky turquoise overlay. Slightly skewed, but still beautiful in its own right.
It wasn't anything that Oz had described; no rushing waters and waterfalls. Then again, it had been several years excluding the gap of the Abyss, and when you're young, the entire world was vast and wide, so much more exciting.
Despite the difference, the younger of the two didn't seem to care in the least. He discarded the sweaty garmets, to which Gilbert colored somewhat and took to folding and desperately not watching, and ran into the water with an airy giggle. Gilbert tried not to notice how attractive his master was with a bare chest-even with that omnious tattoo of a reminder branding his skin-and a mischevious glint in leafy eyes. The grin on his master's face curved into a deep crescent, as if plotting something terribly devious. Gilbert's immediate reaction was to take a step back.
"Come join me, Gil!" There was a slight whine behind the command, subconsciously expecting to be refused and responding to the impending unwillingess already. Gilbert's hat and overcoat had already been discarded a safe distance away from the water, but the formal attire still remained for the sake of modesty, unlike Oz's aloof attitude to splashing around in nothing but undergarmets.
Beads of water trickled down Oz's body, across the alibastor skin untouched by the sun. Momentarily, Oz stopped his endeavor of watching droplets of water sparkle in the few streams of lights passing through the leaves. The teenager stood imperially, hands on his hips with a brow raised when Gil had rolled his eyes at the demand.
"I want you to come play with me, that's an order."
Still a spoiled brat. And yet there was something too endearing about his attitude for Gil to try to protest again.
Emerald irises watched every movement carefully as his servant began pulling the clothing over his head, as nimble fingers unbuttoned and removed the clothing obstructing Oz's view from the matured form of Gilbert. Upon realizing that Oz was watching intently, Gil spluttered, face burning red with heat.
"What are you watching for?"
Oz's lips curled into a sinister grin.
"I'm appreciating," it was almost sing-song as he said it, smugness radiating from every tone and syllable, "what I own." His eyes still trailed over every crevice of Gilbert's muscles, the dips and curves of his chest to his hips. Unconsciously, he bit his lip as he drank in the sight of the faded pink gash across his chest. The thought of beautiful Gilbert being attacked set off a small flare of anger, but he pushed it aside. He would rip apart anyone who had any harmful intent towards his Gil again.
By the time Oz had finished his sentence with a lewd lick of his lips, Gil had kicked up water to splash at him, flustered beyond all belief. "M-Master, stop that!" Oz giggled to himself, even as the cool water splashed at his eyes and covered golden locks.
"But Gil, you're so cute!" He splashed him back with an air of competitive nature, scooping handfulls of water at his servant despite the shallow depths the poor stream held.
Something akin to a groan escaped Gil, and he tried to block the barage of water being thrown at him, yelling at Oz to knock it off, and stop saying things like that; his face was flushed enough, breathing becoming more ragged as he finally attempted to combat the splashing with his own. Both of them had become soaked with water, one giggling and enjoying how the water dripped the heat away, while the other inwardly fretted how he would have to dry everything. Albeit childish, Gilbert couldn't deny that with Oz, this was fun. Several minutes in, he himself found him laughing and responding like his naive teenaged self Oz could always draw out.
Due to some brilliant idea the blonde had, Oz tackled an unexpecting Gilbert after deciding that mere splashing would not win him the war. Together, Oz's weight encouraged gravity to crash them into the creek, the smaller of the two falling into a compromising straddling position. After the initial moment of shock and okay, maybe he shouldn't have done that, Oz blinked and registered the current situation. Gil was under him hissing in pain, and suddenly bright viridian eyes widened, "Gil, I'm sorry, are you alright? I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, just are you alright?"
He felt even guiltier when Gil managed a strained smile, "I'm fine, I think I just hit my knee on a rock."
Oz flinched, craning his neck to get a view of the injury and quickly jumped off his servant, "Gil you're bleeding." His eyes were slightly panicked, mouth pressing into a tight line.
"Master, I'm alright, a little blood isn't bad."
Although Oz was not the best when it came to his medical knowledge, he shook his head, blonde locks messily dripping down his face, and began trying to attend to the blood. The water washed away most of it, revealing that the physical wound was much smaller than he had thought it was, it had mostly been blood covering a scrape. Gil sighed with a tired smile, watching Oz fret over something so trivial. It was sweet.
"It does kind of sting," Gilbert commented offhandedly. Oz looked at him curiously, before shifting emerald vision back to the scrape. Slowly, he lowered his head and placed his lips on his knee chastely. It was at that time that Gilbert's face exploded in scarlet behind wavy, raven locks.
"There, it should feel better now right?"
Oz grinned at him, tilting his head to get a better look at his face before giggling. "You know how cute you are, right?"
"S-Shut up," Gilbert mumbled, sneaking a shy glance at the boy now crawling into his lap. He felt thin arms circle around his neck in such a confident motion, so casual and Oz like. He could feel Oz's breath, hot and excited, on the shell of his ear, and he really hoped that the other hadn't noticed the way he reacted. It was the scrape, really, that's what made him shake and flush, and stutter out his master's name.
"I'm sorry," Oz whispered, sincerity clear in his tone. His lips brushed against Gilbert's skin, and he knew what he was doing to him. Undoubtedly, Oz was impulsive and selfish, but Gilbert was precious to him and he wanted to establish that. His lips traced his jawline, his cheeks, fluttering eyelids, before hovering over his lips. He was beautiful, Oz thought, staring at the matured features of Gilbert's face. It was as if his servant was frozen under him, breathless and waiting for Oz to make his move. The water was trickling through them, both still drenched but regardless of the running water, the heat between them was only getting worse.
When Oz finally kissed him, the blonde felt something so much more than a spark. It was relief, it was comfort, it was companionship, it was Gilbert. Quickly, he moved his lips, parting them softly, pleased with the reciporated response. And maybe they were making out in the middle of a creek, and the blood was starting to swell from Gilbert's knee, but Oz wouldn't have it any other way. He loved the way Gilbert felt, the way his lips hungrily met his in equally shared desire, longing. His arms held to him tightly, tongues tangling and twisting in a dance. The way that Gilbert let him have utmost control and copied his movement with shy determination. The more Oz gave him, the more Gilbert was eager to take from his master.
Needless to say, both were struggling capture their breaths when they parted. Oz looked at the gorgeous man under him with a hazy, satisfied grin, "I love you, Gil."
And it was the shock, and then the flustering, and the adorable fidgetting that made Oz quickly kiss him again, just to hear Gilbert's quiet response that he loved him too. Oz remained in his lap happily, one hand falling from his neck to draw patterns in the water, not worried about anything other than that moment. Pandora, chains, the Baskervilles, all of it was so unimportant compared to what he had right there. He knew the worst was yet to come, and so it was these moments that he had to make special, where he could just remain with Gilbert and just be.
Gilbert ended up carrying a very wet and smug Oz back to the apartment, where Break gave them both an all too knowing look to which Gilbert responded in a flustered glare. Oz nuzzled into his servant's shoulder, and suggested they should go back to the creek sometime. Gilbert didn't refuse this time.