"It's always funny how Gil says he's coming over to work on homework together but he ends up sitting in the corner working alone while I go to sleep..." The blond teen said groggily, giggling a but before eyeing his raven-haired friend in, as pointed out, the corner.

Gil's face heated a bit at Oz's words, he hadn't really noticed this before.

He really only came over to 'study' with Oz as an excuse to see his face in a concentrated manor before he became bored and went to sleep, and was even more of an eyeful in the innocent state slumber put him in.

Gil shook his head, earning a raised eyebrow from the green eyed boy across the room.

Oz sighed and stood up, walking over with his History paper, and sat next to the golden eyed boy.

"Can I copy off of Gil's work? I don't understand anything about the Americas, and questions one through fourty-five are all about it.

Gil stared at his friend, mouth agape at his words.

"THOSE ARE ALL OF THE QUESTIONS, OZ!" He stood up and looked at the blond's paper, said-teen yawning and staring at his friend with a bored expression.

Question one was answered with a few dots and a doodle of Gil dressed as a cat next to it.

Gil shivered at the drawing.

"Oh, so you found that Cat Gil I drew?" Oz asked in an amused tone, and smiled deviously.

His expression softened as he said, no, purred, "I think it looks cute..."

Gil froze on the spot, feeling the blood leave his face as the paper fell out of his limp hand, and, once his mind was able to work again, felt that colour return tenfold.

He looked at Oz and began to nervously poke his fingers together.

"Aw Gil, I was only kidding!" Oz defended, laughing it off and putting an arm around the younger's shoulders, most likely a way to calm him down.

Gilbert jumped out of his skin as the watch on his wrist beeped, it was time for him to get home.

"Here," he said, putting his completed and doodle-free History paper on his friend's dresser.

Before he went out of the door, his backpack over his shoulder, he yelled, "I want that back tomorrow!" Up the stairs to Oz's room before he walked out of the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Oz sighed and ran a hand through his thick, messy hair.

Gilbert was a funny one he was, his study habits were odd, if you could call them study habits.

I want that back tomorrow! He had said.
Oz immediatly went over to place the paper in an empty folder, and into his backpack. He wouldn't have paid attention to making sure his work was in his bag, but it was Gil's, and he felt as though he should be careful.

A sudden heat creeped up onto Oz's cheeks, but he shook his head and replayed his thoughts on him not being gay, especially not for my best friend!

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Ada entered.

"Nii-San, I-" She stopped for a second and put her hand to Oz's neck, then his cheeks, and was cupping his face.

"Are you sick, Ozzy? Your face is red!" She exclaimed, but Oz's face only flushed further.

He pushed his sister away slightly and shook his head in reply. "Now what did you come in here for?"

She paused for a moment to regain her thoughts and looked down at her older brother, yes, looked down, Oz was about four inches shorter than his sister.

"Oh! I came to ask you what you wanted for dinner, stew or pasta?"
Oz didn't need time to think, "pasta," was his immediate answer.

Ada nodded and scampered out, Oz couldn' t be happier to, instead, plop down onto his king-sized bed and sleep, he'd copy off of Gil's paper on the bus.

He was almost certain his companion had fallen asleep, but why should he care?

Gilbert shrugged and turned on his TV, wincing a bit as he felt something brush against his leg, he dare not look down as the blood in his veins turned icy and the colour left his face, he was tremlbing and resisting the near instinct to scream.

A soft mewl had escaped his brother's cat, the source of the rubbing against his leg.

"V-V-V-Vince..." Gil managed, barely able to hear his own voice.

The familiar bicoloured eyes could be seen poking in through the door, he would have likely appeared to retrieve his cat anyhow.

He put on a very dramatic expression and skipped into the room, picking up the little black cat, apologizing half-heartedly, and skipping back out, his manskirt flowing with each little step.

Gilbert regained himself and fell onto the bed with a sigh, he was exhausted.

Already having finished his work, and having no reason to stay awake, Gil took a well deserved rest.

Oz was sleeping, he had no doubt of it, it was only fair he did, too.