Gilbert's voice is a warm, soothing thing against his ear, and Oz struggles not to whimper. It's something so simple – his servant leaning in close as he does up the buttons of his shirt, tightens his tie, generally makes him presentable. But that closeness brings Gilbert's breath hot as it washes over his skin all the same, and especially against the curve of his ear, especially against the sensitive skin behind it –
Useless. He's useless to resist it.
A sort of plaintative exhale, his servant's name, but it gets Gilbert's attention all the same. Oz huffs, glancing aside, using the moment to draw back and Gilbert simply looks at him for a moment, obviously attempting to piece together what has his master in such an off-kilter state.
And then it clicks.
And Oz gets nervous.
He is the one that likes having the upper hand. It's a rare thing when Gilbert attempts to tease back, and worrisome to him all the same, because Gilbert's smart, Gilbert knows him, and watches as Oz's eyes widen when he tilts his head, presses his lips just behind his ear, parts them and licks before allowing a puff of hot breath wash over slick skin.
Oz shudders, liking it and annoyed all the same.
"Gil, enough – "
But he knows Gilbert won't stop, not when he has something that makes his master flush and squirm where he sits. The act of dressing properly is abandoned and Gilbert reaches out to grasp hold of Oz's shoulders, holding him in place as his teeth scrape the curve of his ear, tug upon his earlobe, draw out the sensation with a long, wet lave of his tongue that leaves Oz whimpering and shuddering andquivering beneath the other man's mouth when he really, really wishes he wasn't that sensitive to such subtle, soft things.
"Let me," is the whispered exhale to follow, shaky itself, and Oz shakes his head (even though he means yes, yes, yes). It's fortunate that Gilbert seems to know what he really means, because the servant's hand is reaching for the openings of his trousers, peeling them open and slipping inside, wrapping long, elegant fingers around his arousal and stroking so perfectly that it makes Oz gasp and lurch forward, fisting a hand into the dark curls of Gilbert's hair.
It's embarrassing that he comes so quickly by just Gilbert's hand and his mouth on his ear and throat, but oh, it's good – intense and leaving him shuddering,clutching at Gilbert for long moments afterwards.
"Don't do that," he breathes all the same, huffy and still dazed, and Gilbert, for once, looks a bit smug – a bit accomplished about what he's managed.
Oz knows he'll do it again, the jerk.