Raven, Abducted

Warning: mentions of past abuse including mild sexual abuse, some OOC, AU, mature content, tons of angst and fluff

A/N: (Somehow I managed to be a chapter behind on if anyone follows on tumblr and was wondering, ah.) Thanks for reading as always.~

Chapter XXIII; A Blunder

The next few minutes were spent planning their manner of leave and formulating an excuse as to why Oz would be leaving the estate for an indefinite period of time. Finally landing on a cover story of a last minute trip to Germany to accompany Alice's return home, it was also decided that Break would inform the maids while the three of them dispersed to pack. It wouldn't do to have the household workers lie if Zai Vessalius were to inquire about their whereabouts, so with a heavy conscience Oz decided to shoulder the burden himself and bury them within his own.

But his thoughts were currently elsewhere, tension creeping along his limbs until his feet hurried with a brisk urgency over the carpeted expanses of the long corridors. In his hand was another pale one, dragging a rather bewildered servant behind him.

"Oz, can you… slow down a bit? Wh-why are we—" he huffed, his question cut short when Oz tugged him through his doorway, then promptly secured it shut before pushing him up against it by the shoulders. Golden eyes widened, bewildered, and Oz could about visualize the question on the tip of the other's tongue. Pressing in close with a telltale empty grin, his hands came up to ghost along Gil's waist with thinly veiled nerves, and his forehead came to a rest in the crook of his neck. His scent was calming from where his nose skimmed the edge of his collar, familiar and heady. His thoughts were abuzz with hundreds of what ifsand potentially devastating developments, nerves only further pulled taut by the necessary move of residence. Oz sighed shakily, and inwardly cursed at his lack of self control and the emotions he could barely suppress any longer.

"O-Oz…?" Gil whispered in a hesitant movement to place his hands on the blond's shoulders as he took a moment to catch his breath. Oz lifted his head and he could tell from Gil's expression that his own held an inkling of his own current thoughts. Where had his control gone…? He suddenly felt exposed, weak, made irritated and impatient. But he could hardly mask it at the moment, made just about impossible by the gaze staring back into his, raw as it was, always was. And he envied it in its honesty. Gil's throat bobbed in a swallow as his hand tentatively cradled Oz's jaw just before the noble leaned into it, then firmly covered his mouth with his own. He wasted no time parting his lips to press in hard, hot breaths splaying across the other male's cheek as he pressed and pulled with a gentle need. They'd never kissed like this before, with frustration he couldn't quite localize reaching new heights as he stepped even closer to minimize the space between them. Gil gasped into his mouth as the noble ran his thumbs along the toned panels of his waist and angled his head, the sound his motivation to deepen the kiss as the noirette shyly pressed back.

Oz broke the connection to breathe his name against his mouth before his lips strayed to place soft kisses along the porcelain skin of his jaw and neck. Gil's fingers entangled themselves in strands of blond and he released a quiet overwhelmed huff when Oz's lips reached his pulse. A wave of heat coursed beneath the noble's skin and emerald eyes flickered up to meet his with a playful backdrop before his lashes once again fluttered to rest on his cheeks, lips seeking out the other pair in less of a rush than earlier. This kiss was more passionate, exploratory. It was a bit teasing in how he ghosted over him, although that need to press in deep was still ever present. Growing bold, he found himself wanting to try something he'd never done before, and he gingerly parted his lips to lick at the valet's bottom one. Gil let out a surprised grunt and his eyes shot open to meet Oz's questioning gaze.

Their gazes locked for a moment; questioning gold set on fiery emerald before Gil's eyes slowly slid shut in consent. Encouraged, Oz ran his tongue along the seam of his lips and he couldn't help the shudder when they parted, masking it by tightening his grip. Deep breaths passed through his nose as he ran the muscle along the underside of his top lip and then teased it between his teeth. He heard a low groan when their tongues met, Gil's head coming to a rest on the wooden surface of the door behind him, and Oz realized belatedly it had come from his own throat. If Gil had noticed his slight falter, it had no impact on the hesitant prodding and teasing at his tongue that had Oz's inhibitions dwindling into distant musings, his explorations growing more clumsy and needing as their bodies fell flush against one another and his hands began to wander, fingertips slipping under the edge of his valet's white shirt, lifting it so palms could spread up bare heated skin…

The moment came to an abrupt end then, when Gil ended the kiss to grasp at his wrists tightly. Panting, black locks tumbled over his features before his grip loosened when he noticed the hold only a few seconds later. Stunned into speechless silence, Oz froze under the sudden rejection. Dropping his hands to his sides, he took an unsteady step back. His fingers combed through blond strands as he fumbled for words, something to mask the growing anxiety. Hadn't Gil been enjoying it…? He hadn't been forcing him, and he was responding, which meant… he had liked it, right? Maybe he had unknowingly crossed a line, but a simple shake of the head would've sufficed. This… this felt like a repulsion, sudden and painful, and it hurt; the dread left him feeling as though he'd been punched in the gut.

Eyes widened further before he took another step back, unable to find anything in Gil's expression given the shadowed downturn of his head. With a slow blink of bewildered but otherwise blank eyes, Oz managed an awkward, "Right, I guess I'll pack then," before his legs swiftly carried him to the adjacent room. Gil called out to him then, but he didn't trust his voice enough to respond. He needed to calm down lest he aggravate things between them even more than he apparently already had. Shutting the door between their rooms, he wrung his hands and willed the burning behind his eyes to dull. He was overreacting, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel irrationally angry.

What the hell just happened?!

Procuring a suitcase from beneath his bed, he began a haphazard tossing of clothing into the brown leather case. Various fabrics spilling out over the edges barely registered in his dull gaze, and he glowered distractedly down into the pile of clothing. A knock on the door a few minutes later had him bristling.

"Oz?"

The blond let the crumpled heap of clothing in his hands fall with a soft thump into the suitcase. He took in a deep breath before releasing it into the thick silence of the room. It registered then how childishly he'd responded; he was obviously the one at fault, his expectations may have been shattered but why should Gil even… want something of that nature? He may be ready for a higher level of… whatever they'd been at the brink of just earlier, but Gil wasn't.

And that was okay. He'd go at his pace, even if that were no pace at all.

Why did this have to bother him so much…?

"Oz, I…" a slight pause, "I'm sorry, may I come in…?"

He sighed, rather humiliated by his actions earlier and now. Stepping over to the wardrobe, he busied himself by collecting some shirts. "Yeah," he said dully. The door opened but he refused to face him. He felt distinctly as if he'd misread Gil's intentions from the start and it sent his pulse into an anxious frenzy.

Gil didn't speak for a few minutes, the whole room plunged into a tense quiet; he was obviously sorting through the mess that was his suitcase. The rustling had Oz glancing over his shoulder. The raven managed to elegantly fold each article of clothing as though it were second nature, and his eyes lingered on the fingers that did so. He was about to tell him not to bother, but held his tongue, feeling more awkward and guilty than ever about the situation.

"Oz…"

The noble only gave a "hn" in response, growing more frustrated with himself the longer he let the earlier moment loom over them both.

"It's not that I don't…"

Oz interrupted with a sigh, still unable to face him, but he managed out the words with some cheerful nonchalance. "You don't need to explain, Gil.~ I'm just an idiot, and I'm sorry I pushed you like that. Did you pack?"

"You're not an idiot." The response was immediate and regretfully for Oz, leaking with concern.

The noble let out a breath, still feeling rather miffed despite knowing how ridiculous he was acting. Pausing in his actions, his eyes widened when he heard Gil's voice from only a few feet behind him. "I'm sorry," he whispered again and the desperation in his voice made heat billow up to his face. "Please don't be upset, Oz."

"Yeah," he said dimly and grabbed the shirts he was gathering and walked over to the bed to set them down by the now immaculately packed suitcase. "Are you packed?"

"A-ah, um, I was going to ask if you… had a suitcase I could borrow…"

Right, a suitcase. And Gil still insisted he wasn't an idiot. Stalking over to the storage closet, he yanked a spare leather suitcase out of a corner and placed it on the bed next to his. Gil was already closing and securing his own. As soon as he did, he looked up with raw concern. "Oz, are you sure—"

"Gi-il!" he whined, rocking on his heels, "I'm fine, go pack or I'll have Snowdrop pay you a visit~."

Gil visibly blanched at the thought, but it did little to dissolve the tension. Averting his eyes, he added stiffly, "Th-that's not necessary. I'll take your suitcase down with mine as soon as I'm done."

The usual formalities. Why didn't Gil understand…? It was one thing to feel guilty, but another to revert – no. That wasn't quite right; Gil never fully dropped the formalities to begin with.

"I'll wait," he announced, crossing his arms, and plopped himself onto the edge of the bed. Gil hurried into the other room to pack, and Oz let himself fall backward onto the comforter and stared absentmindedly at the ceiling. The truth is that he was feeling discouraged, not to mention… lonely. Maybe he was expecting too much. What he really wanted was intimacy. A connection, a complete obliteration of barriers between master and servant. Maybe… with more time… But even so, there was definitely something wrong, something gnawing at the back of his mind, something he maybe suspected but hadn't quite assembled yet.

And then keeping secrets from Alice wasn't helping his mental state either. It was exhausting to constantly feel this guilty. But as it was, he only had himself to blame.

Gil walked back in barely a few minutes later and they made their way down the stairs. He followed a few paces behind after insisting he carry both suitcases. His may have been light, but Oz knew his own was rather heavy. "Maybe you could carry me as well, Gil~" resulted in a pleasing sputter that had the weighted corners of his mouth lifting.

They made it to the front door but before he could reach the handle, Oz's hand shot out to stop him.

"Wait, stay inside until we have the suitcases in the carriage and I'll signal you out, okay?" he instructed. Was he acting too paranoid?

Gil hesitated. "Okay, but at least let me get Break to carry these out…"

The blond inwardly frowned. He hadn't missed the slightly lost quality to the gaze before him. They hadn't felt so out of sync since the first night when Gil had awoken. "Eh? Gil, I can carry my own suitcase, you know."

His tone left no room for argument, but Gil studied him wordlessly, as if his emotions were still on display. It made him uncomfortable to know just how difficult it was to mask them around his servant. So, he smirked and poked him in the forehead.

"Don't look so gloomy, Gil. It's only thirty minutes with Snowdrop, I'm sure you'll manage~."

It took him a moment, but then Gil's eyes widened impossibly and the color drained from his face just as Oz opened the front door.

"What?!"

He took that opportunity to slip outside and snorted as he shut the door behind himself. He just hoped that Gil wouldn't escape and hide somewhere within the estate. Surely no one's that afraid of cats, right?

Oz slid into the open seat across from Sharon and Alice as the driver loaded the luggage. Sharon was giggling over Snowdrop, who was currently pawing at a ribbon on Alice's coat. How anyone could be afraid of that he couldn't even begin to fathom.

"Well, you sure took your time," Break cooed and the three of them looked at Oz expectantly.

"Ah, yeah, I guess so…"

Another few moments passed and there was no sign of the raven.

"Where's Seaweed-head?"

Oz let out a breathy chuckle of exasperation and scratched at the back of his head. "That… would probably be my doing. I'll be right back."

It was a struggle in itself to get Gil inside the carriage — "Th-those things should stay contained!"— and once he did he spent the entire ride clutching Oz's arm so tight the noble was sure he lost feeling at one point or another. The real damage was now Break was aware of a weakness he could extort, not to mention the endless teasing that would result from their close proximity to one another. Oz couldn't care less, he just hoped he'd restrain himself around Alice.

Walking into the Rainsworth mansion, Oz muttered, "Uh, Gil, you can let go now."