::Schirm::
((an OzBert))
Prequel to ::Porcelain::
Chapter 1: Replay
"Young master…it's time to wake up..."
"Mmmmph…" Oz groaned, turning his back to the little servant by his bedside, and resettling himself deep under the poofy blankets of his warm bed.
"Please, young master! Your breakfast will get cold if you don't get out of bed at once! And if your breakfast is cold, I know you'll refuse to eat it! And if you don't eat breakfast, Misses Kate will have my h—…!" Gil was cut off by a stealthy hand snatching his wrist and pulling him down onto the bed. The blond demon pulled Gil under the covers, trapping his helpless little servant beside him in a relentless embrace.
"You haven't done your job properly this morning, Gilbert." He scolded as smooth as chocolate while hugging Gil as if he were one of the hundreds of lacey pillows scattered over his king-sized bed.
The raven-haired teen squirmed in the grip of his master, who was grinning like a gremlin, "… I haven't…?!" he squeaked.
"No, you haven't," Oz pushed Gil onto his back and sat on his stomach, pinning him down while he flailed, grunted, and sobbed for mercy, "You're supposed to walk in, sit on the edge of the bed, say 'Ohayou gozaimasu, Ozu-bocchan~' in your cute little voice, and then wait for me to wake up." Oz paused, looking down at his now-red-faced servant, turning to place himself over the fourteen-year-old on all fours, in the same manner a cat would pin a mouse down before devouring it. He even wore a cat-like smirk and his green eyes gleamed with mischief.
"And then…when I wake up and open my eyes…" he continued, leaning down closer to the trapped, squeaking mouse beneath him, "…you're supposed to lean in….and… then—…."
He lulled him closer, his breath washing over the younger boy like waves on a still shore. Gil couldn't help but to follow his lead and fall to his master's intoxicating charm. He couldn't pull away, even if he'd wanted to. He was frozen, as if the closeness cast some sort of spell on him. His eyes fluttered and closed slowly. Oz eliminated the remaining space between them, carefully pressing soft lips together. He lingered there, the firm kiss marking his property.
The Bezarius boy sat up, straddling Gil victoriously, grinning from ear to ear, "Yeah! Like that."
Gil couldn't respond—(whether it was because his innards being mushed from being sat on, from embarrassment from Oz's actions, or from shame of disappointing his master, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was a combination of all three)—he lay there silently, eyes wide, as the blonde continued to smile down at him.
"…..Well..?" Oz rolled off of Gil, sitting up on the bed indian-style and watching for the next move, "You gonna fix it, or does Ada's kitten get Gil-guts for breakfast this morning?"
"…Hm?" Gil paused, taking a while to recollect his hazed senses, "O-Oh! I, uh…N-no! That won't be necessary, Master," he scrambled off of the bed and stood next to it, bowing,
"Gil would be honored, Bocchan…if he were given the chance to try again, and do it properly this time…"
Oz smirked, "Make it quick now, I don't have all morning."
Gil turned towards the bedroom door, then paused, "…Uhm…would you…pretend to be asleep, please…?"
The blonde laughed, "Just get on with it already!" He kicked the 14-year-old in the butt before slinking back under the covers and peeking to watch the little servant scurry out and hide behind the door.
Oz waited.
And waited.
And anticipated.
And fidgeted.
And grumbled.
Until finally, a frail voice cooed from outside the door:
"A-are you asleep yet, Bocchan…?
Oz rolled his eyes, groaning loudly, "yes, Gilbert," his voice was smothered in sarcasm, "I am faaaaaast asleep."
Gil beamed, pushing a stray curl from his eyes, taking in a deep breath before striding back into the room with hesitant confidence,
"O-…ohayou…gozaimasu. …Ozu-Bocchan."
He watched one green eye peek up at him from underneath the covers. Gil peeled the blankets carefully from the boys head.
"Mmf…" Oz pretended to be groggy from sleep, eyes closed, waiting patiently like a frog prince.
He smirked when a pair of thin lips brushed the corner of his own mouth. Gil's kiss, unlike Oz's, was hesitant, light, and brief. He pulled back, face a furious red. The blonde grinned, amused at the other boy's fluster. He flicked Gil's forehead with his index finger.
"…That's better. Could still use some practice though… Now, go fetch my breakfast here!" he ordered in his best manly voice.
Gil paused. How could he have forgotten about his master's meal?! "U-uh… Young Master… I'm afraid.. by now, it may be—"
"Cold?" Oz asked rhetorically, "You'll receive punishment for that later. Meanwhile, go make me a new breakfast."
"H-hai…" Gil whimpered as he dipped into a low bow, "Which breakfast would please the young master this morning?"
"Pancakes. Strawberry. Steaming hot."
"E-eh— Of course!"
Oz watched the raven-headed teen scramble out of the bedroom. He smiled, letting a big breath fill his lungs, then slip out as a sigh. He cuddled up against the fluffy pillows, pulling the cloud-like comforter up over his head. He grinned with eyes shut tight and held the pillow tenderly, thoughts of a golden-gazed servant boy lulling him into daydreams.