Gil paced back and forth in the middle of the room. The sun was shining brightly outside. There was a slight breeze, and the leaves on the trees of the Bezarius estate were rustling cheerfully. The weather was perfect....and the young master was sitting inside, studying.

Gil nervously sneaked another look at the golden-haired boy, who was sitting, legs crossed, on the small sofa, a history book open on his lap. Head propped on hand, elbow on the armrest, he looked positively glued to the book. When Gil had entered the room after finishing his daily duties - cleaning up around the young master's room, washing his clothes - he had barely believed his eyes. Oz hadn't even looked up as he entered, giving no sign of greeting. Gil had had to blink a few times at the boy to convince himself that he wasn't seeing things. When it had sunk in, all it had done was to make Gil exceedingly wary of the Bezarius heir, which was why he was now walking in hurried circles in front of him. What on earth could have possessed the young master? The weather was absolutely ideal - for crying out loud, Oz had gone and hidden outside in the rain to escape his studies once! No, something was wrong - and Gil had a sneaking suspicion that whatever his master was planning, it was going to involve him.

This did not bode well.

Seconds on the clock ticked by. Minutes... Oz continued to read, and Gil fell restlessly into an armchair, legs dangling with nervous energy. The thought had just crossed his mind that time could not move any slower when Oz suddenly uncrossed his legs, sat straight upright, and clapped the book shut.

Gil jumped.

"Young master...!" Eyes still wide from the shock of the sudden sound, Gil pressed a hand to his chest and attempted to calm his jumping heart. "What- why- that scared me!"

Oz laughed, a gleam in his eye that only confirmed Gil's worries for his safety. "You're so cute, Gil."

"I- that is- young master!" Gil blushed furiously, disheveled.

Oz just laughed again, rising from the sofa and dropping the book carelessly onto it as he stood and walked across to Gil's armchair. He stopped just short of it, hands on his hips.

"I- ah- Oz-bocchan?"

Oz had a smirk on his face, and he leaned slightly over the armchair. A cloud passed from in front of the sun, and Oz suddenly seemed to glow. Gil stared up at him, wondering what he was doing.

"Say, Gil..." Oz perched himself on the arm of the chair, on Gil's right. The sun was still behind him, making his body seemingly radiate its warmth. "Do you ever wonder...what we are?"

"Eh?! Oz-bocchan- that's-" Gil gestured wildly, flustered. "Of course- I mean, it's- well- I'm your servant, and...and you're my master, aren't you?"

Oz grinned. "Yes, I am...very much so..." He cleared his throat, and went on. "But you're also my friend, Gil." Seeing Gil about to protest, Oz held up a hand and pressed a finger to Gil's mouth. "I don't care what you think about the relationship between a servant and a master - you're my friend if I say you are, Gil." Gil tried in vain to say something, only to have Oz's finger press harder against his lips. Giving up with a sigh, he nodded resignedly, blushing. Looking delighted, Oz removed his hand. "Now that that's settled..." Oz abruptly slid off the arm of the chair - to the left. Settling himself comfortably in Gil's lap - which the poor boy was far too small for, but Oz didn't seem to care - he grinned up at Gil, easily wrapping an arm around his waist. "This is nice, don't you think?"

"Y- Young master! Wh- What are you-" Gil struggled aimlessly, Oz's arm pinning his own arm to his side. His master just grinned wider and wrapped the other arm around Gil too, effectively rendering him motionless. "Oz-bocchan!"

"Yes?" Oz continued to grin up at him, eyes gleaming.

"What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Gil?" Oz moved himself even closer to Gil, pressing against him in a tight hug. Laying his head on Gil's chest, Oz closed his eyes. "You're comfortable."

"I- young master! That's not- we shouldn't be- what if someone sees us?"

"What if they do?" Oz pressed even closer.

"Well- this isn't- it's hardly- this is hardly appropriate, Oz-obocchan!"

"Is it? Well," Oz raised his head slowly, a smirk spreading over his face. He carefully moved himself into a slightly higher position, making sure not to let go of Gil. "If that's not appropriate, then I wonder what you would say if I did......"

Gil's eyes barely had time to widen. "....this?"

Oz's lips pressed against his, forcing Gil's head back against the armchair, not letting him move - although he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Feebly attempting to raise his arms to push Oz back by order of what little sense of propriety he had left (while the rest of his mind screamed at him to shut up and enjoy it), he found that even if he'd had reason or desire enough to do so, he wouldn't have been able to. Oz's hold on him was still impossibly tight, and it only tightened more - which, strangely, didn't become uncomfortable - as he pressed further into the kiss. Gil couldn't stop a small sound escaping from the back of his throat, and apparently that was all Oz had needed, and he brought his hands up to thread through Gil's hair and push him forward. Gil's arms were now free to force Oz away - but he didn't seem to be doing so.

After what felt like a second and a day at once, gasping for air, they pulled apart - Gil staring wildly at Oz, the blush not having had time to rise to his cheeks, and Oz's striking green eyes, satisfied and smirking, staring straight at him.

It took barely a millisecond for Gil to come to his senses (which had been severely shaken up, albeit enjoyably, by what had transpired just before). "O- O- Oz-b-b-b-occhan! Wh- wh- what was th-"

"Gi~l..." Oz, who had leaned back slightly when they had parted, leaned closer again. Gil blushed furiously, a shade of neon red Oz hadn't even thought possible on a person. "What do you think it was?"

"A- A- A k-k-kiss...."

"Correct! So," Oz leaned even closer. "We should probably do that again...so you can recognize it faster next time."

"N- N- Next- mm!" Gil was abruptly cut off again by Oz's mouth on his, giving no room for air or speech. When Oz pulled away a second time, grinning again, Gil's blush took even less time to resurface.

"Do you know what that was this time, or shall I have to do it again?"

Gil couldn't help but remember his earlier predictions about this day as Oz leaned in yet again. Well, those had certainly come true.