It was almost midnight and he sat waiting on the sofa as he had been instructed, dark curled hair obscuring part of his face. Oz had called him into the parlor, alone. It had felt like a near eternity since they had last been alone together, though likely it had only been a few days, weeks at most. Things were different now from the way they had been at that time, he had found a sense of clarity, of hope, that had never before been in reach. He was finally feeling good.
Click, creak, click. The door opened and shut as someone stepped into the room. He looked over his shoulder eagerly, hair floating as he turned, seemingly caught in his excitement. Oz had his hands folded behind his back against the door, his head lowered mischievously, emerald eyes obscured but a warming if not impish smile visible on his lips. Gilbert swallowed, hoping whatever his master clearly had planned for him was not meant to torment him, but eager for whatever would come regardless.
"Gil."
Click. Oz had reached back, locking the parlor door without looking away. "This might be bad," he thought to himself, his lips downturning slightly with apprehension. He followed his master with his eyes, slowly turning his head as Oz strided playfully across the room then gradually came to face him. He seemed to be in a very good mood tonight, refreshing considering all that had happened in the recent days. It made his heart flutter to see Oz act like his old cheerful self in light of everything. Oz was so strong, of course he could bounce back from such a thing.
"What did you want to talk with me about Oz?" Even if he was called here to be the butt of some joke or trick at the hands of his beloved master he anticipated it none the less, welcomed it even, an inviting echo of a more innocent time.
"I want to give you something nice Gilbert, can I?" Oz's eyes were still hidden by those long golden blonde bangs, he was clearly plotting something, but that didn't matter, Gilbert could not stop himself from smiling. "Of course."
Oz took at step closer, the way he moved more resembled dancing rather walking, light and airy. A hand reached out and touched his face, making his heart race, face flush, and eyes widened with curiosity mixed with confusion. "Oz?" His master did not respond verbally, but rather by lessening the gap between them, going so far as to put his knee on the sofa where Gilbert had been seated. His choice of location could not have possibly been worse, right between his slightly parted legs, dangerously close to something. He tried his best not to think about it, but rather focus on the subject at hand. Whatever it may be.
"So... uh, w-what was it you wanted from me, Oz?"
"Didn't I say so already? I want to give you something nice." Oz's smile seeped into his words and Gilbert's features turned grim as his master finally looked up.
"Jack!" There was a low growl in his voice. Jack Vessalius. He had been tricked, his eyes narrowed full of distrust. This man, this monster, who shared his beloved master's body, could not possibly be plotting anything pleasant.
"Its alright, there's no need to get so angry. I told you; I have something nice to give you. You'll enjoy it very much." his voice had remained smooth, calm like a peaceful body of water offering no insight to his plot at all. Whatever this man had contrived was undoubtedly anything but "nice", nothing Jack Vessalius ever did truly was; it was only cruel and self-serving. Gilbert put his single arm up, creating a barrier between the two of them, but was taken back when he once again felt soft fingers caress his cheek. He turned his cheek away, veering away from that tempting touch. The look upon on Oz's, or rather, Jack's features, was one he could not place. There was a darkness in that seemingly kind smile, something knowing and cold.
"Perhaps Oz hasn't noticed yet? The kind of eyes you look at him with."
Gilbert's eyes widened, his breath and heartbeat completely halted. Jack had noticed, how would he use it against them? Reveal it to Oz? Destroy their friendship and cut off one of Oz's closest protectors? Oz was safe as long as he was in the dark. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. This was bad, very very bad. He would be cast aside and Oz would be left unprotected, with no one left but Break, a dead man on his feet, and Alice, whose power seemed to lessen at every turn. His secret had to be kept for Oz's sake.
"Don't make that face, Gilbert. I'm not plotting anything mean."
The panic must have been written all over his face. And why shouldn't it be? Everything he cared for was at risk. Somehow he found the strength to bark at Jack, "What is it you want from me?!"
"Keep your voice down. You'll wake the others, and you don't want that do you?"
Jack's smile on Oz's face cruelly taunted him as he brought a single finger over his lip signaling for quiet. If there was a way out of this situation, he could not see it. As requested, he lowered his voice before inquiring again, the anger in his voice still biting into his words, "If that's true, hurry up and tell me what you want, then release my master!"
"Gilbert." Jack moved closer again, putting a hand on the arm blocking him. "Or would you prefer I call you 'Gil'?" Gilbert winced as his name was called identically to the way Oz would say it, Jack visibly pleased.
"I thought so. You like it when Oz calls you that, right?" His mouth pulled downwards, furthering the already deep frown that tugged at his features. But before he could think of a biting remark to counter with that troublesome knee, Oz's knee, shifted, brushing firmly against him causing blood to rush both to his face and his groin. His hand moved seemingly of its own to cover his mouth attempting to hide his pleasure at the slightest touch.
"That face is much more apporiate, its quite becoming on you 'Gil'."
"Stop this, Jack! Oz isn't your plaything!"
"You're making this too hard on yourself, please try to relax and enjoy yourself."
Before he could protest further, Jack made full use of the placement of his his knee, grinding it against hardening flesh through the fabric of his pants, a reluctant groan drawn from his throat. Gilbert's eyes slipped closed with the repeated motion, finding the pleasure too strong to resist. An opportunity not to be wasted by Jack. A small soft hand caught his face, running gently over his cheek before catching on his jawline, guiding him to meet the mouth parallel to his. Golden eyes slipped open to sneak a peak at the image laid before him, one that had played in his mind time and time again but he had never dared to hope for's realization. Was this what it was like to kiss Oz? The smell of it? The taste of it? Did he dare, the way it felt? His hand moving to run itself over Oz's side, lightly as though his body would crumble away at the slightest pressure. He couldn't help himself but rock his hips against that knee, pants and the stray moan escaping between the melding of their of their lips. "Oz... Oz..."
It was hopeless, there was no way he could resist this. When Oz, or rather when Jack, pulled away he was so love drunken he didn't even consider trying to escape as Jack untied Oz's tie, wrapping it around around his single wrist before passing it through one of the decorative holes in the decorations of the sofa's backing.
"You're feeling good now, right Gil?" Those gorgeous emerald eyes met his gaze and for just a moment he thought he really was looking up at Oz. His delusion was quickly broken however, as the boy before him now crawled closer, balancing with one foot on the floor weight distributed between the precariously placed knee and hand on the opposite site of his open thigh, his drunken stupor turning to sobering horror as Jack spoke again, "But that's not enough, is it?"
No.
Those fingertips trailed over the zipper of his pants teasingly before stopping at the edge of pants. "No! Jack, stop this!" His protests were met with a cruelly sweet smile as Oz, no Jack, nimbly undid his button then zipper. "No, no!" He shook his head, a hard lump forming in his throat as he watched dread building inside him. "You want this though, don't you, Gil?" There was no denying it, it was obvious looking at his body's response. He craved Oz's touch as if he were a drown man struggling for air, but not like this. He recoiled as much as he could before he was ensnared by those fingers. Flesh on flesh, Oz's hand wrapped around his hardened length, but Oz, Oz had no choice in this. It was so wrong of him to take pleasure as Oz's unwilling, unknowing, hand stroked him. "Oz," he whimpered, feeling tears well up in his eyes and disgust in his stomach. But it felt good. It felt so damned good.
He closed his eyes, trying to wish the situation away, to wake up in bed alone and wash away the shame before he would see Oz again. The sensation did fade away, but when he tried to move his arm he found it still bound bringing him back to reality. Oz had not stopped because he had willed his perverse thoughts away, as so many times in the past, but because Jack was taking a momentary break undress himself. As slender digits fidgeted with the buttons on Oz's shirt, Gilbert tried as best he could to keep his eyes upon Oz's contract seal, ticking away, shortening his beloved master's life. Once that white shirt sprawled completely open, Oz's hand moved lower. Gilbert gritted his teeth, tightly squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away. He couldn't look.
No. No more.
He wanted to speak, but his words seemed to fail him. He dug his teeth harshly into his lower lip as he felt a weight on his lower body. "Gil. Open your eyes, Gil. Don't you want to see?" No. No. No. No. "No... stop. I can't..," there was not a trace of the ferocity his voice had previously held, but a weak pleading whimper, begging for this to end without any further harm to his master. He felt Jack lift Oz and a sound he couldn't quite make out, but it was chased by soft sounds of pleasure with perhaps of twinge of pain from Oz's voice. He winced thinking what might be happening, but dare not to look.
"Open your eyes, you wouldn't want to miss the best part," those words were soft but felt toxic to his ears as a hand gently guided him to face forward once more before steadying its owner on his shoulder. As commanded he opened his eyes half-lidded, just enough to get a glimpse. Jack smiled with Oz's lips, lowering himself upon Gilbert's erection. He hastily shut his eye again turning back away, tears falling from his eyes.
"You know, this is Oz's first time. I'm giving it to you; you should be very happy." Jack leaned in, lips almost touching his ear as he tenderly whispered, "Or does it make it that much worse?"
Sorrowing turned to out right and unbridled sobs, as Oz's hips gyrated on top of him. How could he possibly be enjoy this? It was completely disgusting. Taking Oz's virginity against his will, his master, the person he claimed to care most for in this world.
"Oz! Oz, I'm so sorry! I love you so much!" He wept probably louder than intended voice feeling constrained and choked by tears, ashamed of his despicable actions so much that could not help it.
Oz was so hot, so tight around him, before he he realized it, he was moving with those rocking hips, thrusting into them, chasing more of that sickening pleasure. It really took no time at all. "Oz... Oz," the name was on his lips as wave after wave of thick dark black pleasure swept over him.
A few moments, that seemed to stretch on for an entirety passed before he felt he could breathe again and the weight of Oz's body was lifted from him. He watched in silence as the hands that hand touched him so torturously previously gently tucked his manhood back into his pants before untieing the the thin piece of cloth that had bound him. He fell as motionlessly as it did to the sofa below. After redressing his master's body, Jack walked away waving playfully as he unlocked and open the door before stepping through.
"Goodnight, Gil."
"Gil~! Gil~!"
A familiar voice called him as he lay on the sofa, not having moved from where he had laid the night before. "Gil, you'll get sick if you sleep out here," that voice was the last one he wanted to hear at this moment. He didn't deserve to hear it. He blocked his eyes with his one remaining arm, not wanting to see the face that matched it. "If you're still tired, then go to bed." He nodded in accordance, taking care to sit up and walk past in a way that would allow him to pass without setting his eyes directly on his master at any point.
Oz however, seemed to have other plans. "Are you feeling sick? Does your arm hurt?" He put his hand over his mouth, he felt absolutely repulsed as thoughts of the previous night came crashing over him. "If you aren't feeling well, you can rest in my bed." He wanted to protest, but couldn't find the strength, so instead he just followed as his beloved led him back to his room.
"Get some proper sleep, or you'll be useless later!" A playful order, cute and ordinary for Oz. He crawled into the bed, pulling pure white sheets around himself. Oz's smell was all over them, the bed soft and welcoming cradling him in a comfort that could only be described as Hell. He of course deserved this Hell, and far worse, for what he had done to Oz. Oz who had trusted him, Oz who he swore to protect at all costs, and now he had completely defiled him. Oz was a child, only 15, he was a man, 24; there was no way that what he done could ever be justified it, it was wrong from every angle.
You're so disgusting. Why didn't you just push him away as soon as you realized what was happening? Why did you let him kiss you? You disgusting pervert.
How could he possibly face Oz again? He couldn't, he shouldn't; he didn't deserve to. He throw away that privilege the moment he gave into his lust. Was there any way to repent for his sin? He'll hate you. He should hate you. Gilbert curled his body into his chest, making himself small. He should get some sleep, like Oz said. But would sleep make anything better?
He reached down to unfasten the holster to the revolver strapped to his thigh, wanting to set it aside, but he hesitated. He held the firearm in his hand staring blankly at it. He claimed he would never forgive anyone who harmed Oz, kill anyone who did. Had he really meant it? He swallowed dryly, cocking the the black pistol before slowly bringing it up to meet his head.
"Gil, ar- ," the door opened and a halted, the look of confusion, fear, and disbelief quickly repainted his master face from the neutral one it had held when he had open the door. "What do you think you are you doing?!" Oz tackled him on the bed, grabbing onto his arm and wrestling his weapon away from him, not that he had put up a fight. With loud thump, Oz threw the gun across the room, hitting a dresser before falling on to the carpet.
"Why would you do something like that Gil?!"
He couldn't answer, even if he had a proper one, no words would come out of his mouth. He stared at Oz sitting on the bed, so full of worry for the person who had desecrated him. It was more than he could take. He crumbled down, sobbing, burying his face in Oz's lap. Even now he was abusing his master's kindness. "Oz... Oz..." He felt sullied fingers tenderly rub his head until the fog of sleep dragged him down.
How long had it been like this? He hadn't left that room, staying in that bed permeated with the scent of the one he betrayed, numb as if he were at the bottom of a deep black well, under water that just barely let in sound. Oz had taken the revolver when he had left, probably hid it somewhere. Gilbert did not intend to look for it. But what if Oz should wish him dead when he found out what had happened? He would grant that wish gladly.
Click. The door opened.
"Hey Seaweed-Head, do you want anything to eat?"
Gilbert looked over his shoulder to see Alice had a box of food in one hand and some type of meat in the other, which she had clearly been enjoying. She set the box on the night stand beside the bed before finishing the last few bites of her meal. "Aren't you going to say anything? I even went out of my way to pick you good meats."
He didn't say anything, only turned his head back to stare at white sheets and the closed eyelids. The sound of the bed creaking rolled through the room like ripples on a water's surface as Alice sat down, scooting in to sit on the pillows and rest her back against the bed frame.
"Oz is really worried you know," she grabbed another piece of meat from the box and took a bite before continuing, "What's wrong with you?"
A hard kick came down on his side, jolting his eyes open. "You better start talking Seaweed-Head!" There was annoyance clear in her voice, but concern was written more clearly on her face than anger. Her arms were folded over her chest as he started to sit up.
"I..."
"You what?" She frowned not liking the incomplete response. Alice wanted answers, answers for herself, answers for Oz.
"I... am..."
"Spit it out already!"
"I'm in love with Oz!" It felt as if he were yelling, but his throat was dry, soft from lack of use. The words always of the edge of his lips, trapped at the back of his throat, driving his every action, but never spoken. Or rather, only ever spoken at the worst possible time. Saying it out loud for someone else to hear, there was a mixture of relief and indignation, his face flushed red and the pain of inevitable rejection forming a lump in his throat.
"Everyone knows that. What's actually wrong?"
Her tone was completely flat, her expression pure annoyance, as if he declared "the sky is blue." His momentous confession, the secret he had tried so hard to hide, and here she didn't care in the least, "What?"
"I said 'everyone knows that'," she repeated herself more slowly, condescendingly, making him feel stupid for asking. "Its not like you make it incredibly obvious, blushing every time you look at him and saying 'Oz, Oz' all the time." She gestured with her hands as she spoke, voice was full of sarcasm before leaning in closely with a more caring expression, "So; tell me what's wrong."
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled before starting to speak again, "Jack..."
"What about about Jack?"
"He... I..," he didn't know how to say it, maybe he didn't want to say it. Confessing his sin to Alice, even if his feelings for Oz didn't matter to her, this was an entirely different matter. Her arms were again folded over her chest, she had stopped eating and was listening intently.
"Jack... kissed me. ...I let him," voicing it was difficult, his throat constricted by guilt.
"So what? Jack has probably done more than that with plenty of other people."
"But Oz...!" He reacted without any thought, not able to process the sea of emotions in him properly into words. Its different. That is Oz's body, and he had no say in it at all. I should have shoved him away! I should have noticed when he called me "Gilbert" instead of "Gil". I shouldn't have let it go so far. I shouldn't have taken advantage of him...
"There are a lot worse things than getting a kiss."
Facing down eyes meeting pure white sheets, that pit of disgust was boiling over in his stomach, threatening to make him sick if he had eaten anything. His eyes felt hot, but he was unsure if it was even acceptable for him to be the one to cry in this situation. "...I did worse things to him."
Alice's eyes widened, confused and slightly intrigued. Her innocent face made it clear she did not understand. He had stolen away Oz's innocence for a few moments of selfish pleasure, enjoyed defiling the person he claimed to care the most for. You're a monster. Disgusting. Pervert.
Despite his not wanting them to, tears fell from his eyes, "I've done the worst thing a person can do to someone else to my master..."
"If you stop acting so sad Oz will feel better," she stated matter of fact, clearly missing the point.
"If he does, it will only be because he doesn't know what it I did. I betrayed his trust... I... I!"
He stared to choke on his sobs, it was true Oz was accepting, forgiving, but this was too much. There was no forgiving what he had done. He had raped Oz and there was no forgiveness for that. If anyone else had laid a hand on Oz in that way, Gilbert would have beaten them to death with his own hands, but now all he could do was mope. He should have taken responsibility and and pulled the trigger before Oz walked in.
Alice was quiet, silently, or as silently as she could finishing off the meal, as it had become apparent her companion had no interest. He had laid back down, closed his eyes and pretended to sleep to escape everything. Was this how Vincent felt?
"Hey, Gil. Are you feeling any better today?" Oz was trying his best to sound cheerful, but it was apparent in his voice that there was no cheer to be found. He crawled on to the bed, reaching out to softly touch Gilbert's shoulder. "Gil?"
"Oz. You shouldn't be around me; I'll hurt you," his voice was a low monotone, he just wanted to disappear. Leave and know Oz was safe without him there.
Oz hovered his hand above where the bullet had entered him a few days before recalling the incident with Glen Baskerville, "What are you talking about? It doesn't even hurt anymore." He reached out again, touching Gilbert's shoulder and tracing down to where his arm would have been, "Besides, you... got hurt much worse."
He started to bring his remaining arm up to meet Oz's touch, give him some comfort, but couldn't bring himself it actually touch his master, "I'm okay Oz, it was the right choice. I don't that regret at all."
"Then why are you like this?" the worry in Oz's voice pierced him to the core, why could he not stop hurting this poor child?
"Oz..."
Go away. Please, please, leave me alone.
His master's hand started to thread through his curled locks, but he pulled back, "Don't touch me!" Shouting at his master now too, what kind of servant was he?
"Gil... Please look at me."
He wanted to resist, but instead weakly sat up, slowly turning to face the one he claimed to love keeping his eyes locked on those white sheets only seeing the edges of Oz's knee's when he had fully turned. But Oz moved, resting his weight on his hands, perching forward, getting closer to him. Go away. Go away. Get away from me, Oz. Don't you know what I want to do to you?! ...what I did to you... Oz inched closer, reaching out a hand to touch him, he shifted back instinctively looking up by mistake, inadvertently forcing himself to face his master.
"Gil, do you hate me now?" The look of anguish on Oz's face wrenched his heart, he caused this person nothing but suffering. There was no making amends, but at least he could try to ease it a bit.
"...I..."
He started to speak, but his words felt lost again. Swept away in that black sea he had been drowning in. But he had to swim through it, for Oz's sake. He averted his gaze once more, he couldn't possibly confess to those expectant emerald hues, "...I... I've... done something... awful... to you."
"Are you talking about what Jack did?"
His heart seemed to stop again. He felt completely frozen in place. Did Oz know? How much did he know? Gilbert couldn't breathe, as if he had been kicked in the chest at full strength. He wanted to ask, but couldn't will himself to, "...how...?"
How did you know about that?
"Alice told me what you said the other day."
Alice. She didn't fully understand though, did she? After all, she was a child as well, and not even one who had lived a normal life. What exactly had she told him? Revulsion washed over him in his shock, forcing the images of that night back into the forefront of his mind. He covered his face with his single hand, hiding the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't deserve to cry over this.
"So what if Jack kissed you. It's okay."
"Its not!" Oz was trying his best to comfort him, but he had yelled back without a second thought. His voice came out this time as of hushed whimper, "Oz... you can't forgive me for this."
A tender touch met his now somewhat thinned cheek, brushing away hot tears that would not stop. The warmth from Oz's body as he moved closer tormentous. He wanted to move away again, but would end up on the floor if he tried, he could only sitting there. He was doing it again, wasn't he?
"Gil... I'm okay. Really."
You're not. You just don't know.
A warm hand cupped his cheek, comfortingly rubbing it, thumb blocking the flow of his lament. If he had decency at all he would have brushed that hand away. Instead, he allowed it to guide him to meet his master's gaze instead. His stomach twisted at the look of pain written in Oz's eyes, so much he didn't resist when his master pulled the hand blocking his face away, forcing him to meet that pained gaze completely before Oz spoken again.
"Gil, the one who had something awful done to them was you, not me!"
He was taken aback, he pulled away from that warm welcoming touch. Oz was wrong, this was all his doing and he was miserable because he couldn't bring himself to take responsibility for his actions soon enough. He wrapped his single arm around himself, wishing for the first time that he had them both just to create a thick barrier between the two of them. "You're... you... it was my fault!"
That warm touch was back, distinct, completely different from the icy Hell he was residing in. A torture far worse, but not so much as Oz's kind distressed words, "Its okay if you want to kiss me." No, it not. Its not. His face was lifted again, his arm feeling weak and falling to his side as he stared into saddened emeralds. The bargaining in Oz's voice made his heart ache deepen, "I'll kiss you now if it will return you to the old Gil."
"Don't!" He moved back as much as could, smacking his elbow hard against the bed frame as he put it up between the two of them. He absolutely would not allow that to happen again. Oz withdrew his touch, furthering the distance between them. He looked disinhearted by his friend's rejection, letting him escape. His face darkened as he lowered it to look down at the sheets as he had seen Gilbert do so often lately.
"The last thing I remember hearing Gil say before he became like this was 'I love you so much', is that still true? Don't you love me at all?"
"Oz..." He thought he saw tears clouding those emerald eyes, but he couldn't be sure. Oz's voice was shaken. "Don't you love me at all?" It echoed in his head as he stared at Oz's small body, wanting so much to reach out to him, but afraid to do so. Oz had heard him, he knew all along what had happened. So, why was he still here? Something wet rolled down Oz's face, hitting the sea of white below. Gilbert moved in closer, he couldn't deny Oz comfort when he needed it. "Oz... I... I do... l-love you... v-very much."
Bridging the gap between them, he pulled Oz in close wrapping his arm around him. The warmth of his body of his body finally feeling welcoming, almost redeeming when Oz wrapped his arms around his body as well. "Then please keep loving me, and go back to being the old Gil." A smiled pulled at his lips.