Notes/Warnings: Oz/Gil, adult content again (lol). Takes place in chapter 48 right before the group talk with duke Barma and Isla Yura, since they changed out of their clothes before that. So... mild spoilers for that I guess? But the only big spoiler is Oz's outfit for the chapter technically, heh. Yes this is even more kink meme prompt fic.
Disclaimer: Don't own it or any such legalities.
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Dark satin fabric. Cloth pulled tight against a thin waist. Distracting ruffles against thin, pale wrists and neck. Wide, bright emerald eyes and sunny blond hair adorned with even more decorative fabric. And then...
...
Gilbert Nightray slammed the bathroom door behind himself and draped his change of clothes over the edge of the wash basin, large frame leaning heavily against the counter of the sink in distress.
They could finally change out of their disguises, but as much as he wanted back the familiarity of his own clothes; he had other matters to take care of first.
The long robes of his disguise had been the only thing hiding Gilbert's erection since the moment his master had finished struggling into that dress- a maid's dress that looked almost too good on the teen, and made his thin body far more distracting than usual. Had the events following with the strange, very unpleasant, nobleman not been so disturbing, Gilbert was sure he wouldn't have been able to tear his eyes away.
It hadn't helped that he and Oz had been pressed close together while trying to eavesdrop. Their disturbing target of interest had been so unsettling it had ruined any relishing of that moment, but his body had noticed even if his mind hadn't.
Since when had he ever had to deal with such problems? Even when he'd gone through his awkward teenage years, such thoughts had only ever haunted him in shameful dreams and never while he was awake and coherent. Perhaps it was because back then Oz had been in the abyss, so far away from him in darkness, not physically close to him like now and awakening age-old and forgotten hormones.
The heat between his legs refused to wane in the slightest now that he was alone with his thoughts. If anything, he was harder than before.
"Shit..." Gil cursed under his breath, chewing on his lip.
They would be expecting him back shortly, and his black slacks likely wouldn't hide his problem...
Hell.
He'd have to... get rid of it...
Quickly.
Thinking about other things, even frightening things, hadn't helped at all.
S-so...
Slipping a hand down to move aside the long fabric of his robes, Gilbert felt his eye twitch with irritation and a bit of self-hate.
Having to jack-off in the middle of a mission...? For shame. He was so pathetic. It had been years since he could remember being even slightly so hormonal, but apparently Oz in a maid's outfit was all it took to revert him to an impudent teenager.
'When did I become such a pervert?' he wondered bitterly.
Despite being disgusted with himself, Gilbert sighed and felt his whole body shudder with relief as his gloved hand finally gripped his swollen length with purpose.
Gloved fingers began a hasty rhythm and Gilbert's imagination was quick to provide images to speed the process. This would be easy, at least. He could feel guilty later.
That cursed maid outfit on his master. Being able to push that long skirt up around Oz's waist. Sliding his hips between those pale thighs. Crushed satin beneath them. Oz's eyes falling shut with a gasp of his name, ruffled cap falling loose from his hair. Oz... Oz...
"Oz..." a whisper of the boy's name escaped before he could hide it with the rest of his voiced pleasures behind grit teeth, and Gilbert breathed heavily through his nose in attempt to keep quiet as he felt his climax swiftly approaching. A clothed thumb rubbed hard at his tip, and Gil could almost hear Oz's voice beneath him as if the blond were really there, right as he-
"Gil! Help me take this... off..."
...yes, take it off, but no...
...Wait...
...
Oz's wide eyes blinked at Gilbert from his place frozen in the doorway, and Gilbert felt his jaw drop open- body freezing up in petrified mortification.
...No...
...Was this really happening?
"O-O-o...Oz!"
Oz's eyes lowered and Gil belatedly followed his gaze to where his hand still gripped his cock, and the older man immediately let out an undignified shriek, jerking his robes closed and flailing- falling flat on his ass in a horrified heap.
"It's not what it looks like!"
...
Fuck.
It was obviously exactly what it looked like.
Oz was very aware of that fact.
Oz felt his lip twitch, and that was all the warning either of them got before his shock promptly exploded into a fit of uncontrollable laughter and giggles. Quickly pulling the door shut behind himself, the teen collapsed backward, sliding down the flat surface to join his servant on the floor, clutching at his stomach while tears sprung to his eyes in absolute mirth.
Gilbert hid his burning red face behind his hands in despair. He wanted to beg for at least the mercy of not being laughed at- he also wanted to cry, and to be swallowed up by the floor if God were merciful (be there a God, the entity obviously wasn't, considering the current situation)- but at this point the servant wasn't even sure he would be able to look his master in the face again for weeks, let alone speak up for himself.
"G-G-Gil you—pfhhh-haha- "
"J-Just... d-don't say anything." Gilbert managed to stutter, drowning in thoughts of why-me and every other woe he could think of.
Oz struggled to stifle his laughter, hoping he hadn't drawn much attention from outside with the outburst. Their group had all split up to redress and regroup, and Oz had followed after Gil to get the man to help him out of the troublesome corset-like top of his disguise.
He had certainly received more than he bargained for in his pursuit.
'A lot more...,' Oz smirked to himself, watching Gil curl further into a ball of misery and self-pity against the opposite wall.
Was there enough time to play a little? That 'Isla Yura' man had disturbed him greatly, but Oz was still in a playful mood from getting to sneak around in disguise- even though he was still a little bitter about being stuck in girl's clothes. The opportunity to harass Gil was never one he wanted to pass up, and it seemed Gilbert had been taking a moment to 'play' by himself any way...
There was also another important factor it would be a personal crime not to exploit...
"Hey, Gil..." Oz started, standing up and quietly locking the door before taking a few steps to stand over his best friend. Gilbert flinched and seemed to shrink inward, hands still desperately hiding his face. "It's okay, everyone does it, right?"
'That is not the problem, nor does it make me feel any better!' Gilbert thought to himself miserably, nearly shaking with humiliation.
"Yet I can't help but wonder..." Oz continued, pausing dramatically, and Gilbert felt his stomach twist with dread as his master's voice raised an octave in amusement. "..what could it be that got you so worked up you couldn't wait until later?"
Gilbert weakly squeaked out something that sounded like 'Nothing!', but Oz felt the smirk stretch wider across his face. He was pretty sure he knew the answer already.
"Come on, you can tell me, can't you?"
There was no answer, so Oz reached down to tug at one of Gil's wrists in attempt to reveal the man's facial expression- his favorite part of teasing his servant. He received nothing but a feeble whine for his efforts.
Well, fine then...
"I think I deserve to know, after all..." the blond teen leaned closer still, so that there was no way the words could be missed,
"...you did say my name."
Gilbert's head jerked up with a start, denials sputtering rapidly, "W-what! No! No I-"
Oz's eyes narrowed with conviction, and Gilbert could tell right then that Oz really had heard.
Oz knew.
Oz knew and Oz was still smirking.
How could that be? Surely it was the calm before the storm, because there was no way-
"That's okay!" Oz chirped, and Gil stared at him as if he had gone mad.
And really, it was. Okay, that is. The implications- someone actually fantasized about him. Being with him. Finding him attractive. Desirable. All of those and more- Oz couldn't quite grasp the reality of it in his mind. The weight of the actual feeling felt so very heavy. But he could at least understand that it wasn't a bad thing, and that the progression wasn't negative. Something he'd never let himself consider, but was mutual all the same.
"It's my fault, so I should help you with that, right?"
Gilbert choked.
"N-no! Don't even joke about that!" The older man squawked, "Just... forget it. W-what was it you needed again?" He was desperate for a subject change. Oz had been asking for something when he'd stumbled upon his shameful situation, hadn't he?
Oz's playful smirk turned downright wicked at the question, and Gil felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck in alarm.
"That's a convenient question, Gil."
Convenient? Gilbert frowned in confusion, just what-
"I wanted your help taking off this dress."
"Wha...?" Gilbert's sanity was fading fast. No- wait- that wasn't dirty-! He'd helped Oz into the dress as well- of course he'd need help out of it. Never mind the fact his erection was already stirring with renewed interest, he just needed to calm down and...
The loud sound of Oz's borrowed black shoes hitting the porcelain lid of the toilet made him jump, and looking up Gilbert felt his mouth go dry. Oz was standing over him, hands on his hips, one leg propped up on the toilet at Gil's right, the skirt of his dress raised with the motion just enough to reveal a glimpse of skin, the other foot resting near his left hip.
Oz let out a quiet huff of laughter at Gil's reaction. He'd suspected his outfit had been at least partially to blame since recalling his servant's earlier comment of how it suited him so well, but this...
Gil was staring at the revealed skin of his leg with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks, transfixed, apparently having forgotten he had been in the middle of a near panic attack just seconds before.
So his easily flustered servant had a perverted side, hm?
Oz felt his stomach flutter with heat.
He'd always been aware that he had a lot of power over Gilbert, but not in this manner as well.
It was a shame they had to hurry...
"I knew it!" Oz proclaimed, dropping himself into Gilbert's lap in a flurry of cascading fabric that billowed out over both of their legs. Gil squawked and flattened himself back against the wall in retreat.
"W-what! I'll help you- just get off of me!"
"Nope, I think I'll help you first~"
"Wha...?"
Gil had little chance to question before Oz's hands were suddenly on a mission to get under his clothes and he was sputtering and wrestling Oz's wrists into a hold so he could stop the madness.
"S-sto- What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"Helping you." Oz answered cheerfully, and Gil let out a string of incoherent curses.
Oz didn't have any idea what he was getting into- or did he? -but then why would he...?- Gilbert's mind floundered for logic.
A soft kiss landed at the corner of his mouth and Gil yelped and jerked back, smacking his head into the wall, stunned.
Oz pouted.
"You don't want me?"
What...!
"Th-that's not i- I'm just a- You can't-" Gilbert scrambled to answer, at a loss of words and bright red in the face.
Oz smiled, "Then it's fine, come on, we should hurry."
"But you can't..." Gilbert protested, disbelieving. Were they really having this conversation? The hands tugging at his clothes once again said they were. The older man made to object further, but then Oz's mouth was at his ear breathing, 'I think of you too,' and it became infinitely harder to think. The blond's lips drifted down to press a wet kiss at the corner of his chin and Gil went rigid, hands trembling and torn between pushing away or tugging closer.
Oz wanted... something like this? Even though he was a servant? Even though... Gilbert had ...grown older? Weren't those things a problem? Wasn't this...?
"Gil." Oz spoke his name in a tone that fully expressed his position as master; the same as when they were both young with the threat of cats close behind if Gilbert didn't comply. Gil shuddered. The meaning was clear- Oz was serious. But still...
"We'll talk about it later."
"But..." That wasn't very reassuring, Gilbert distressed.
The soft lips that covered his own however, were.
Soft and determined.
Oz's.
It was Oz in his lap, Oz against his lips, and Oz's hands fumbling with the fabric at his waist. And so, albeit hesitantly, Gilbert surrendered and forced himself to stop resisting. How could he not? Gilbert could never deny Oz what he wanted when he was serious, nor did he want to.
Oz rewarded his compliance by slipping a tongue past his lips, kiss turning open mouthed and hot, both of them moaning, rocking hips down into his own suggestively. The fake glasses he'd forgotten were there started to slip off of his nose and Gilbert reached up to take them off, but Oz smacked his hands away and arranged them back into place with a grin. Oz's hips were moving again before he could ask why, and the thought quickly disappeared from his mind entirely. The mass of fabric between them didn't allow for much good friction, but Gil still groaned and arched while Oz squirmed in his lap and grunted in frustration, pulling his hands back to tug at his skirt irritably.
Gilbert leaned back and paused with some remaining hesitation when the kiss broke, meeting Oz's expectant stare. A moment later he gulped under the intense gaze, taking the hint as he moved to push the fabric up himself- too much like his recent fantasy, sliding the heavy fabric up to bunch at Oz's waist.
Oz watched Gil's expression progress from reluctant to aroused with a devious grin on his face and a light-headed tingling feeling he'd never experienced before.
Gil, his best friend, was between his legs on the bathroom floor of a stranger's mansion.
This was just... so...
...so...
Fabric out of the way, Oz pressed his hips down once more and swallowed both of their moans with a hasty kiss. The older man's hands dawdled at his waist before gripping tightly, pulling closer, and Oz let his eyes fall shut with a rush of desire. Gil's actions and words were nothing of 'I can't' and 'I don't want', but all 'you', the fool. Oz would show him just how much he wanted exactly this.
This time when Oz sent his hands to work at Gilbert's clothes, the man did nothing to attempt stopping him. Rather, the hands at his waist moved to fumble with the ties at the back of his dress while Gil let out a pleasantly distracting whine. When his fingers finally hit bare skin they both gasped, and Oz pulled back to look.
It was vaguely awkward to be examining Gil in a manner so different than before, but the sight of it did nothing but make the ache between his own legs throb with interest. Curiously, Oz reached out to follow Gil's erection from base to tip with his fingertips, and grinned at the immediate moan and trembling that followed. So entirely at his mercy...
Golden eyes stared half-lidded into his own behind glass frames, and just that simple accessory made the sight even more enticing somehow. Yet... it was also a reminder of where they were, and that they should hurry. 'Drat!' Oz huffed to himself before rising up and quickly divesting himself of undergarments.
Gilbert felt his jaw go slack as Oz wriggled out of his underclothes and he was suddenly staring between his Young Master's unblemished bare thighs. Breath caught in his throat, the man had little chance to do more than swallow thickly before the blond was already pressing down into his lap and wrapping slender legs around his hips, both of them gasping out a shuddering breath as their naked erections brushed together, warm and hard.
"Come on, Gil." Oz encouraged with a smile, grabbing Gilbert's hands and placing them at his waist, starting a haphazard rhythm rolling his hips and hiding his face in the crook of the other man's neck to hide the flush he could feel rising in his cheeks.
"Oz..." Gil fingered the ties at the back of Oz's disguise once more and closed his eyes with a groan, tilting his head to nuzzle Oz's hair as he adjusted to meet the boy's thrusts.
And suddenly it wasn't about what they should or shouldn't be doing or what Oz had 'talked him into' anymore. It was about pleasing Oz. Pleasuring his master. That was all that mattered.
Oz hissed in surprise as the fabric at his waist loosened, Gil finally getting the laces undone, and then flinched in slight shock at the sensation of callused hands gliding up the inside of his thighs. The gentle touch distracted greatly from the hot friction of grinding hips, and glancing up to gauge Gil's facial expression Oz felt his mouth go dry at the look he was receiving. Passionate. Unwavering. Hot...
Loving.
Under the weight of such a gaze, Oz fell out of rhythm and slowed to a stop, feeling a lump build in his throat to respond. When he opened his mouth to speak however, all that came out was a loud moan as the same large hands reached the apex of his thighs and wrapped firmly around his cock. And then it was all he could manage to bite his lip and keep from making too many embarrassing noises as Gil put his own skills to shame with the strokes of his hand.
The skill came from ten years of being alone, longing for someone far out of reach; but put to use now pleasuring his most precious person Gilbert could hardly feel ashamed. Oz was panting and moving with every motion of his hand- it was so surreal that he was torn between the feeling he could come from visual stimulation alone and the colossal migraine threatening to develop over this even happening. And it was definitely happening.
"G-Gil!" Oz inhaled sharply, one small hand gripping Gil's wrist and the other reaching out for the older man's neglected erection. "Nn, you...too!" Soft fingertips curled around the tip of his length and Gil groaned, whole body jerking at the contact, freeing one hand to pull the teen tight against his chest while gasping for breath, hunched over with his nose buried in blond hair while his master panted against his ear.
Given the chance to catch his breath as Gilbert held him close, Oz smirked and pressed his lips into the shell of Gil's ear to speak. He had wanted to tease, after all.
"Gil is so aroused."
"You don't have to tell me!" Gil blurted out immediately, and Oz could tell the man's blush had increased triple-fold from the reddening of the ear his lips were brushing against.
"We both are, can't you feel me?" the teen breathed out, delighted in the shudder that radiated beneath him and the twitch of Gil's erection against his own.
Gil could definitely feel him. Oz was just as hard as he was.
Oh, God...
"Hurry up, we haven't got all day..." Oz chided softly, nipping at Gil's earring. Amused and painfully aroused himself, the boy really had to wonder why they hadn't done this before. "...and I still want more."
"...More?" Gil echoed, uncertain even with one hand resting against Oz's lower belly and the other around his master's shoulders.
More? Right here? ...How much more? Should they? Should -he-? Well, no, never. But to disobey Oz- to deny Oz- to disappoint Oz-
"More." Oz affirmed, swiftly moving to slip his tongue past Gil's lips and reaching down to tease at both of their erections.
"Mmph!" Gilbert muffled a cry between them, allowing Oz to plunder his mouth for a moment as he steeled his mind and reached between them, curling long fingers around both of their lengths gently before gripping them tight together and stroking upward. Oz jerked his head back with a loud gasp, arching forward into the grip, and Gil stuttered a moan at the feel and sight of it before leaning forward to press lips to the exposed throat, carefully working up a rhythm with his hand.
"Gil, that's cheating." Oz hissed playfully, reaching up to grab the hair framing his friend's face and tugging, sending distracting glasses tumbling across the tile flooring below.
And it did feel like cheating; because the firm strokes of Gil's hand seemed mismatched against the adorably flustered blush on his cheeks. The man mumbled some protest into his pulse and Oz smiled, tugging once more at Gil's hair before lowering his hands to run his palms flat over the broad chest below. Finding what he was looking for, smile turned to smirk as mischievous fingers set to rubbing and teasing harshly at the nipples he could feel hardening below the fabric.
"Nnh!" Gil's fist tightened and they both inhaled sharply.
"Wah!" And then suddenly it was Oz squeaking in surprise as Gil's other hand made itself known, having slipped beneath and behind. Pulling back slightly, Oz was met with an embarrassed and questioning look. 'Just how much more?' lay the underlying question, and the teen let out a breathless laugh. Their erections still gripped together, slick with precum, and nearly panting into each others mouths; any amount of 'more' seemed not enough.
Oz pressed back into his touch and Gilbert nearly choked on his own breath at the admission. Blinking rapidly at the hooded green eyes staring back at him, the older man gulped loudly before looking around the room a bit frantically and then pulling away to lean over and rifle through the cabinet beneath the sink.
"Eeeh~?" Oz's voice was thick with amusement as Gil clumsily speed-read the labels of various oils and lotions. "Gil knows how?"
"Sh-shut up! I'm not... stupid..." Gil trailed off staring down at the bottle he'd chosen, perplexed. Oz grinned and snatched the bottle away, holding Gil's wrist captive as well.
"Wha...?" White teeth flashed and Gil's mouth went dry as Oz nibbled at the tips of his fingers, biting down softly to tug the glove off of his hand. The process was repeated on his other hand, and when both were bare the bottle of oil was placed in his palm, Oz smiling up at him with devious eyes.
"...Do you not know what to do after all?" Oz teased when Gil did nothing but stare blankly for a few seconds.
"N-no! I do! Just-" Gil sputtered, quickly upturning the bottle and coating his fingers. Oz was tugged insistently back onto his lap and then there became an abrupt awkward silence as they stared at each other while the oiled hand reached beneath the still-hiked skirt to press against untouched skin. "Um... are you su-"
"Yes! We're supposed to be in a hurry, stop... stalling." Oz scolded, and Gilbert was distracted for a moment more by the pretty blush that his master was probably unaware of- such a rare sight, before responding in kind.
A finger slid in slick and sharp and Oz bit his lip, averting his gaze to the ceiling.
Gil was being careful, or trying to, he could tell- Gil is always careful with him, it's no surprise. But the gentle and tentative motions of fingers inside of him still felt maddening and were accompanied by a burning pain he'd never experienced before.
And it's warm.
It's so warm that it's disconcerting, and his face is hot, and his breath is hot, and the pressure in his belly is hot, and his erection is throbbing so hard it hurts.
And just as Oz was thinking how odd it was that it felt as if Gil's fingers weren't quite deep enough even though it felt like he was being stretched too far, Gil curled his fingers upward to hit something that made his entire body arch and tremble.
"Nngh! Gil!"
The sight of Oz writhing on his fingers, face flushed and mouth gasping, nearly did Gilbert in right there. He knows he's doing right when Oz begins quickly pushing his hips back hard onto his fingertips, lost in pleasure. Gilbert forgets himself too for a moment, rubbing continuously at that spot just to see more of that expression on Oz's face.
He can feel Oz's body clenching around his fingers so clearly he can almost feel it already around his cock.
It's that thought that ends it- that he's inside of Oz even now- and Gilbert groans and curls forward, coming messily between them. He accidentally jerks his occupied hand up in the process, and Oz yelps and then cries out hoarsely as it shoves his fingers hard into the boy's prostate, dragging him over the edge as well.
There's an apology on the tip of his tongue when Gil realizes, but instead he bites his lip and thrusts his fingers a few more times softly to help Oz ride out his orgasm.
When the blond's hips stop rocking into him, Gil pulls his fingers out gently and tries not to let himself get re-interested when Oz moans and shudders, hiding his face in the crook of Gil's neck to catch his breath.
Gilbert starts to catch his breath also before nearly hyperventilating when his mental sigh of 'that felt good' swiftly turned to 'ohGodwhathaveIdone!?'
Oz raised his arms to push back lightly and Gil's focus shifts again as Oz looks down and stares at the mess they've made, blinking widely while Gil feels his cheeks flood with heat.
"This... Pfff-What a mess!" Oz covers his mouth with one hand to smother laughter.
"Ugh." Gil raises his dry hand to cover his face.
"What a shameful servant you are, Gil" Oz mock-glares, and despite knowing it's a tease Gil flusters and barks an offended 'what!' back. "...Making a mess all over your master."
And by God there is a mess. Gil can't keep from turning bright red just looking at it, knowing that he is even partially to blame for it. There is pearly fluid spattered across the front of Oz's outfit, the front of his own, on the floor, and up the wrist of the hand he'd pleasured his master with.
Without thinking, Gil quickly jerked the wrist to his mouth as if to hide the evidence. Oz's eyebrows shot up in amused surprise before bursting out into laughter when Gil realized what he was doing and sputtered, pulling his arm away and lurching to his feet in embarrassment.
"Oof!" Oz tumbled off of his servant's lap and onto the floor in a mess of rumpled fabric. "Gil!"
"I'm sorry!" Gil yelped, "Uh, here, let me..." he trailed off, grabbing a cloth to clean them half-decent before resuming the task he should have done plainly earlier- getting the outfit that he could blame all of this mess on off of his master.
The fabric was already so loose that after a few tugs it easily slipped to the ground in a puddle of tousled cloth at Oz's feet, to which he kicked aside and bent to retrieve the change of clothes he'd dropped unnoticed near the door when he entered. Gil hurriedly redressed himself, and was finished when Oz turned around in a new suit, tugging at the bow around his collar. Gil reached out to straighten it automatically and Oz smiled.
"We didn't even get all the way, Gil." The man's hands flinched at his collar and his smile widened. "Were you that excited?"
"I-! You-! That-!"
"We'll have to expend all that excitement in advance next time, so you don't get distracted on missions~" Oz sing-sang suggestively.
"I will not get distracted when-!" Wait, next time?
"Ah!" Oz pulled down on his cravat bringing them to even eye-level and Gil gulped, holding his breath.
"You did good." Oz whispered, Gil flushing pink at the praise. "I can still feel oil inside."
…
…...
"...WHAT!?" Gil choked out, turning scarlet.
"Make use of it later, hmm?" Oz chirped happily, opening the door at last, "Wouldn't want Gil's effort to go to waste~"
Gilbert closed his gaping mouth, moved his stare from the retreating back of his master to the messy, sticky piles of fabric at his feet, and swore colorfully.
They were in Duke Barma's villa- the man who knew everything. How was he supposed to hide this?
As terribly ill-mannered as it would be, he could already feel the impending stomach ache and need for a cigarette setting in. Fumbling through his pockets for his smokes, Gilbert paused as he raised his box of matches, slowly glancing around the room.
…Did he dare?
…
As it turns out, Gilbert would dare.
A maid would later find half-charred-half-soaked remains of two outfits in the trash, along with a broken pair of glasses forgotten in the corner of the restroom.
And it was perhaps one of the smallest but sweetest victories in Gilbert's life that he would later be teased for 'damaging clothing in a fit of immature rage' and smoking in the bathroom due to his 'remarkably weak willpower' rather than for 'having sex with Oz Vessalius after being caught jerking off in the middle of a botched recon mission' in said bathroom.
When he woke up the next morning curled around his master's peacefully sleeping body, he deemed it a worthy sacrifice.
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