Break leaned his chin on one palm as his elbow rested on the table top; curled fingers concealing his mouth, and the other arm lay folded behind the upright one. He constantly stared at Gilbert, who was starting to get nervous. Sharon had been summoned by her grandmother while Oz and Alice went out on a quest to refill the mansion's entire meat supply (which Alice had conveniently diminished) as punishment, as well as Break's supply of sugary treats while they were at it on Break's request (which, of course, included the man's signature wide-eyed demented smile). That left only Break, who was always in the middle of tea time and Gilbert, who had arrived a little late for it. Gilbert had been silently sipping his tea, completely oblivious to the white-haired man's intense stare until not too long ago.
Break had always been fascinated by Gilbert's face, particularly when he blushed. When he blushed, his usually smooth, pale, skin turned bright pink, kind of like strawberry flavoured bubble-gum when it's just been taken out of its wrapper. But when he's really embarrassed they turn red just like cherry flavoured gumdrops or candy apples. Break had wanted nothing but to simply lean forward and give those delicious looking cheeks a lick – a nibble even – but that clearly wasn't a very bright idea.
It was already bad enough that people generally considered him to be crazy, if not clinically insane (but then again, he wasn't known as the Mad Hatter for nothing). The only reasons why he hadn't been left at the doorstep of the nearest asylum in a straitjacket was because the influence of the Rainsworth family, and also because, as much as they'd hate to admit it, Break was very useful for Pandora. Naturally it was all thanks to his cunning wisdom and terrific sword-fighting skills (he had been a knight in his past life, after all). But if he didn't hold back now and succumbed to temptation, then Gilbert would most likely freak out in the way that one would as if the apocalypse dawned upon them. They'd surely send him packing then, and Gilbert would definitely ensure that he'd be kept in the lowest pits of whatever sanatorium he was sent to. Even his Mistress, Miss Sharon, might finally begin doubting his sanity, and if his sweet-tooth was really not much of a threat to the well-being of mankind.
Unknown to Break, Gilbert had sneaked a few glances at his apparently-deep-in-though companion, and his cheeks slowly turned pink when he noticed the direction of Break's unfaltering gaze, causing Break's eye to narrow a bit as his mind processed which sweet-related metaphor would best suit Gil's current blush.
For quite some time, the older man had been staring at him absentmindedly; his facial expression morphing every now and then – yes, Gilbert was able to tell even though part of his face was partially hidden by his fingers – and it was starting to disturb the raven-haired individual. Sure, he knew his ex-mentor was well-known for having a few screws loose but Gil was one of the very few people that knew that it was all just a facade put on by Break. Sometimes, however, he would seriously doubt the validity of that statement.
Like now for example.
It's not like he wanted to do it on a whim, contemplated Break. That day when he had found that little raven-haired boy crying in the rain, he instantly felt this aura of... sweetness, for the lack of a better word, radiate from his rather small being. The way his large golden eyes shone honey-flavoured hard candies, the way the glossy red skin of his trembling lower lip gleamed like the surface of his favourite cherry-flavoured lollipops, the way his flushed plump cheeks instantly reminded him of fluffy marshmallows; it all appealed to Break, giving him all the more reason to take in the poor lost kitten (oh, the irony of that statement) under his wing.
Gilbert's cheeks were turning redder and redder by the minute. Why the hell was Break staring at him? Was there something on his face? No, Break would've pointed it out in the most embarrassing manner and tease him over it if there was. Perhaps he was staring past Gilbert? No, that ominous red eye was definitely gazing at his direction. Had he done something to offend the man? He couldn't really recall any such thing, and Break surely would have extracted his revenge by now if he had. Maybe this was a new form of revenge? To try and make him feel as uncomfortable as possible? No, that couldn't be it. Such a subtle method was simply not Break's style, for the man preferred more explicit and sometimes even flamboyant methods of torturing. So why in the world was he staring at him?!
Break's resolve was crumbling. Gilbert was slowly turning into a familiar shade of red that Break had associated with candy apples, and that was the most appealing shade of red to him, not to mention one of the darkest shades that Break had ever seen Gilbert turn.
Break swallowed thickly.
It was ridiculous! That little kitten he rescued those many years ago had already grown into fine, – albeit quite a childish and annoying – handsome young man, and yet he still held disturbingly strong traces of his younger self.
Especially those cheeks.
But Break's resolve wasn't the only thing cracking. Gilbert's own composure had crumbled and he was now fidgeting nervously in his seat; a strong blush adorning his face that more normal people would compare with to a tomato. He had never been good at dealing with uncomfortable situations, and now sure as hell was one.
Finally, Gilbert turned to face the source of all his woes with the intention of asking him outright why the heck he was staring at him, but the intensity of Break's gaze made the words die at his lips. Never before in his life had Gilbert seen such a seriously determined yet solemn expression on Break's face. Little did he know that as soon as his golden orbs met Break's ruby one, the final restraint holding the white-haired man broke.
Before he knew it, Break was inching closer and closer, until he was practically sprawled across the table, no-thanks to the fact that Gil had been moving back subconsciously. Slowly, Break brought his hand forward and gently cupped Gilbert's cheeks, not even registering the worrying amount of heat being radiated from them, before tilting the raven-haired man's head a little to the left. He then leaned forward a bit more while supporting himself with his other hand on the table, closed his eye and took a big, drawn-out lick of Gilbert's right cheek.
Time seemed to have frozen for Gilbert along with every muscle in his body the very moment Break's tongue made contact with his cheek. Every single receptor in his skin picked up the sensation of the hot, wet muscle slowly trailing up from the corner of his lips to his cheekbone as well as Break's warm, sweet breath fanning over his face. It sent a boat-load of signals to his brain which was having a mighty hard time deciphering all of them despite being the all-powerful organ it was, and his face felt so hot that he could've sworn he was suffering from a high fever.
Break's mind, for his part, was documenting every single moment of the experience, as if he would never get a chance to do this ever again (which... he probably wouldn't). When the tip of his tongue reached the part of Gilbert's cheekbone just below his eye, he pulled it back but before moving away completely, he lightly grazed at the skin with his teeth, thus partially fulfilling his other wish of trying to get a nibble of the soft, sweet skin.
Break swiftly moved back down onto his seat and brushed some imaginary dust off his refined coat acting as if he had not just violated the laws of personal space, or practically molested the face of his colleague with his tongue in what could be assumed as a very suggestive manner.
Gilbert, on the other hand, let out a long, shaky breath that he hadn't even known he was holding before promptly turning into a flustered, trembling mess of a human being.
Once the imaginary dust had been taken care of, Break tilted his head ever so slightly then proceeded to stare into space for a few moments as he tried to determine the flavour of what he had just tasted.
Now, a normal person would have noted that Gilbert's cheek tasted like skin, which generally doesn't taste like anything (unless, of course, you're talking about sweaty skin). However, when taken into account the facts that both men had been in the midst of tea time before Break's seemingly spontaneous act, Break's tongue starting off from the edge of Gilbert's mouth, and that this was Gilbert Nightray we're talking about, then the said man's cheek would probably faintly taste like the tea he was drinking as well as the cigarettes he had been smoking just before tea time had commenced.
But it is human nature for the mind to perceive things in a way that would be most favourable to the individual.
Also, Break wasn't a normal person.
And so, Break came to the conclusion that Gilbert Nightray's cheek tasted like-
"Strawberry," muttered Break, audibly enough for Gilbert to hear.
"W-wha... What...?" the lightheaded Gilbert asked weakly.
How on earth he had reached this conclusion? Well, no tea time would be complete without confectionaries, which, in today's case, was strawberry cake for Gilbert. And years of exposure to all kinds of sweets had honed Break's sense of taste, allowing him to pick up the extremely faint flavour of strawberry from some cake crumbs among the other tastes. Thus, Break's brain had conveniently decided that Gilbert's cheek tasted like strawberries.
"Your cheek. It tastes like strawberries," clarified Break in a very serious manner, as if what he just was the most normal thing in the world and did not give off the impression that he had lost his marbles.
"...O-oh..." responded Gilbert surprisingly calmly, though his slight trembling and persistent blush told a different story.
"We're back!"
Break turned and craned his neck a bit to the source of the voice to find Oz entering the room with Alice just behind him, holding a suspiciously large paper bag in one arm while munching on a chicken leg with her her other hand.
"Ah, Oz-kun, Alice-kun, welcome back~" greeted Break cheerfully. "Did you get my sweets?"
"Of course, you stupid clown. We're not dumb enough to forget," answered Alice for him, with a hint of irritation in her voice. Break simply ignored her.
"I asked one of the servants to stack them away in the pantry and-"
Oz blinked.
Why was Gilbert so red? And why was he trembling?
"Hey Gil, are you alright?"
"Oh, don't worry about him, Oz-kun~" reassured Break.
Naturally, this worried Oz.
"…Break, what did you do to him?" asked Oz, concern evident in his voice.
"Hm? Oh, nothing. I was just satisfying my curiosity!"
"Eh? What curiosity?" piped up Alice.
Not caring that the question of his sanity – or even his sexual orientation – was at stake since the deed had already been done, Break answered.
"I've always wondered what Gilbert-kun here tastes like, and today I finally got to know." He ended the sentence with a sly smirk.
Oz and Alice gaped at him, slack-jawed.
Then, a loud thud was heard from Gilbert's direction and all eyes turned to him.
"Ah. He fainted," mumbled Break, before giggling like a mad man (which, he sort of already was). Oz quickly snapped out of his stupor and rushed to his best friend's side, after which he began shaking Gil.
"Gil! Gil, wake up!"
"Oi, Seaweed Head!" added Alice, who also seemed to have recovered from her daze and was now smirking with her arms folded across her chest. At some point she had hopped onto a chair and towered over the unconscious Gilbert, who's face had collided rather painfully with the table-top. "Stop playing dead and face the humiliation!"
"Hang in there, Gil!" cried Oz.
Neither of the two had noticed the sudden lack of a Break in the room, as the said man had quietly slipped out of the door right after Gil fainted.
"I wonder if Oz-kun bought any strawberry-flavoured lollipops~?" mused Break, with a wide smile on his face as he sauntered down the vast hallway heading to the kitchen.
