Raven, Abducted

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

A/N: This has been the longest delay as of yet, I'm sorry! I've been super busy and I don't like to force chapters out, so I can't make promises, BUT I can say I will never drop this story heh. Thank you as always for your reviews~


Chapter XXVII; A Struggle


"Whass goin' on?" they heard from the lump on the couch. Alice pushed herself up to sitting and wobbled dangerously. Brushing the hair out of her face, she looked around at the three others in the room. She glanced from Break back to Oz and Gilbert (the former of which still had his arms around Gilbert's neck, a fact that Gilbert was all too aware of) and then back to Break. "Hey! Where're you goin' with the food?"

The first thing Alice would notice was that the food was being put away, not that her fiance was practically nuzzling his servant's neck. For that, Gilbert let out a tentative breath.

"Gi-il, let's go," Oz slurred impatiently as he let the young man beneath him drag him over to the table where Break was piling the plates onto a cart. Honestly, half Oz's weight was on him, but he had to admit the situation could be worse.

"Alright, I'll... try... uh..." Gilbert trailed off, wondering how he was going to accommodate his master who quite possibly weighed more than he did, "Could you perhaps... get on my back?"

"Yay!" he exclaimed and Gilbert leaned forward, grimacing slightly as the arms around his chest tightened and Oz leapt up. He caught his legs with his arms and hiked him up on either hip. This probably wasn't such a good idea had he been drinking or even not... but... somehow he managed to stay upright without too much protest from his legs. It helped that with every movement Oz's cheek pressed against his hair and he could feel a puff of breath along the curve of his ear; he steeled himself against a telling flush.

"'Night, Break, Alice," Oz said as they passed her (she was piling cookies into her arms while Break's back was turned) and patted the top of her head. She grumbled a "'night" back and Gilbert bid the two of them goodnight before struggling out the door. As soon as they made it into the hallway, the bedroom they were staying in seemed miles away. His legs were already beginning to ache.

Oz snuggled into him contentedly, his nose brushing at the sensitive skin of his neck. The maneuver was over-exaggerated, but instead of the expected smirk came the sleepy inquiry: "Sleep with me, Gil?"

The resulting fluster was immediate; he might have stopped still had he not been relying on momentum at this point. That-! Chancing a glance, incredulous eyes caught on ones that only oozed the utmost innocence (albeit a rather glassy-eyed expression).

Swallowing, he relented, averting his gaze ahead, "I-I will."

After all, he didn't really have a choice.

That seemed like the correct response judging by Oz's reaction, which was to slump forward with an accompanying murmur of delight. Gilbert reminded himself not to take Oz's words or actions too seriously while he was intoxicated, but they still managed to tug and knead at his heart.

"O-Oz, your grip is a bit tight..."

"Mmm, sorry," he hummed and released his choke-hold a bit.

They made it around the first corner, before Gilbert had to lean Oz up against a wall so he could catch his breath. Oz's forehead lolled against the crown of his head.

"Gil~ if you can't handle it I could walk, you know," he said, but beneath the concern lay an obvious pout.

"No, just give me a minute..." He panted and adjusted Oz's legs so they were more securely situated on either hip. The arms around his shoulders were still holding tightly. He didn't want to disappoint Oz; he could manage at least this much. As ridiculous of a request it was. After half a minute, he pressed forward again, making it down the next hallway and to the start of the staircase leading to the second floor.

Now, this was going to be a challenge...

He placed his foot on the first step, but then Oz started to struggle and he had to shift his weight to compensate. Confused, he stood in place. Oz kicked a foot off the ground and used his other leg to pull himself forward and the valet couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was trying to do. "What… are you doing…?" he huffed.

The closeness and friction between their frames was actually rather embarrassing as he shifted, but Oz didn't seem to notice. "Pff... can't, agh..." he grunted, frustrated, tightening his arms and wiggling even more.

"...Can't what?" he asked, at a loss.

The blond went limp against his upper back. "I wanted to see Gil's face."

That was all...? It seemed an outlandish desire, but his alcohol-clouded mind kept him from questioning it.

"O-Okay. If that's what you want."

Except if he thought having Oz on his back was flustering enough, he wasn't sure how to deal with him on his front. Ah, but as it stood...

"Here, then..." He had Oz stand on the first step and he re-hooked his arms about his neck then jumped, clasping his ankles together behind the curve of his lower back.

Gilbert stared breathlessly, warily, into pleased green eyes, barely a foot from his own but looming inches above. Oh... no... this way was much more intimate.

"Hm…?" Oz smirked, "What are you blushing for, Gi-il?"

Was he blushing...? Probably. Definitely. Oz was doing this on purpose!

"N-nothing." He forced his eyes away and focused on not losing his footing on the steps as he climbed. He managed to make it up to the first landing even with Oz purposely invading his line of sight. Reluctantly, still heated from embarrassment, he allowed his eyes to drag back to meet his shyly. "I... can't see like this, Oz."

The blond only blinked at him and unclasped his arms to comb through Gilbert's hair around his cheeks. Most of Oz's weight was now situated where he held him, but Gilbert was too distracted by the unexpected touch to complain. "Soft..." his master muttered through puffed out lips and Gilbert's entire body went aflame. His suddenly weak legs couldn't stand the weight any longer and he had to lean Oz up against the wall at the top of the landing, which only brought them closer together. Heat billowed up between them the longer they simply stared; Oz's fingers ceased their teasing but remained as they were tangled in black locks. Gilbert couldn't deter his thoughts from venturing to how every segment of Oz's figure pressed against his...

He wondered if he affected Oz in the same way just before the latter crossed the remaining space and kissed him. He let out a helpless sound of surprise and pressed back a bit belatedly, but just as enthusiastically; keeping his eyes open, he could watch the expressions pass over Oz's face. A twitch, a furrowed brow, eyelids clenched shut with long blond eyelashes splaying over flushed cheeks. It was almost as if he were a spectator to something personal, something private; it made his blood run hot passed his ears and he gasped quietly, breathless. Gilbert balanced him on the chair-rail and brought a gloved hand up to tentatively caress at his jaw, run the tip of his thumb over delicate eyelids, fingertips skimming over his forehead, through his hair, around the curve of his ear, down his neck, and up again to prompt his mouth open so they could share an open-mouthed kiss like earlier... He managed to stop himself in time from that last thought. A wretched thought reserved for someone far more deserving. To touch him, Oz, the noble, his best friend- but most importantly his master who was far too intoxicated to know entirely what he was doing...

He pulled away, but Oz didn't seem fazed because he kept littering his lips with soft kisses and he shamefully lost himself in one before pulling away for a second time. "O-Oz, we can't-" swallowing, he looked aside, pained, just before their foreheads collided in a light clunk of a clumsy movement that caused him to jump slightly. "We're in the hallway and-"

"Nobody's here, Gil," Oz argued in turn, unfazed, before pointedly licking the seam of Gilbert's lips; the corners of his own lifted at the resulting shudder. Gilbert, drunk on overwhelmingly more than he'd originally bargained for, parted them and let him in to tangle his own tongue and Oz gasped and he held his breath; the sound made his chest clench and his eyes water. He let him have free reign for a moment before pulling away for a third time.

"Oz..." The name was light on his tongue between breaths. He was much less inebriated than he was, and it was his responsibility to return him safely to his room and to avoid letting him do anything that he might regret come morning. So he returned his arm to under Oz's knee to support him and lifted him away from the wall, concentrating primarily on climbing the steps. He really was starting to feel exhausted, sore, not to mention the jelly-like sensation of his limbs. At least their room wasn't too far from here.

He almost lost his footing when Oz leaned his mouth against a fresh spot on his neck just below his ear and he released an audible sigh at the feeling. Dizzy from the alcohol still in his system and the ministrations of his insatiable master, he fell backward panting against the wall just down the hallway from their bedroom. Oz licked and nibbled and sucked and he felt his pulse increasing to new heights. Oz's legs were beginning to lose the strength to remain wrapped as they were, his thighs now sliding down Gilbert's hips while stubbornly struggling to remain off the floor. This time Gilbert felt his full weight pressing him against the wall. "A-ah," he gasped, "Can't we at least... get into the room...?"

He felt his body beginning to grow aroused in the most shameful of ways and he went rigid, steeling himself so they could make it the last fifty feet into the room they were sharing. At least Oz's legs were wrapped loosely enough now that he wouldn't feel it... He wouldn't be able to face him again if he did.

After careful maneuvering, he managed to release Oz onto the bed and quickly closed and locked the door for good measure. Blinking warily at the brass of the doorknob, he sincerely hoped they hadn't been seen just now. The blond swayed tiredly (Gilbert rightfully assumed he was being a bit over-dramatic about his exhaustion) and plopped sideways so his head hit the pillow. "Mmm."

"Ah," Gilbert fought the urge to wring his hands, "please try to stay awake for a minute, Oz…!" he said, rushing into the washroom connected to their room. Oz huffed before nodding into the pillow in response. Glancing into the silver mirror, Gilbert noticed with horror little blotches along his neck and rubbed at them, as if that'd make them disappear. He'd have to worry about those later... Quickly, he poured some water into a glass and hurried back into the bedroom. "Please drink this! It'll help you feel better by the morning."

Oz leaned all his weight on one arm and lifted himself up in a heavy movement. Gilbert handed him the glass and he took a gulp obediently. Bending down to one knee, the valet began unbuckling Oz's boots and placed them beside the bed. When he began on loosening the ribbon around his collar, he noticed Oz had barely drank half the water. He quickly guided the glass back to his mouth pointedly and resumed his previous task. "For someone who's never drank, you sure know what you're doing," Oz said with some amusement. Gilbert paused and glanced at him, which was all Oz needed for his eyes to widen with recognition and he brought a palm up to his forehead. "Shit, Gil, I'm sorry. I'm acting... so stupid... Of course you... ugh."

The latter smiled wanly. Yes, he had a lot of experience dealing with a certain drunk man. "It's okay," he said truthfully, "You had a bit too much. I did too."

Oz let out a small huff, eyes inadvertently landing on Gilbert's fingers as he worked with mindless ease.

"Then you should be drinking this too."

Gilbert glanced with some surprise at the glass presented to him and back to Oz and then began the task of unbuttoning his vest. "I'll get my own when you're ready for bed," he said.

Oz ruffled his hair and let his hand linger in it; Gilbert steadfastly avoided that glittering gaze. "After what we just did in the hallway, are you really going to be shy about drinking from my glass, Gil?"

Gilbert felt his face redden, feeling it best to let that go unanswered.

"Maybe you'd prefer drinking it from my mou- mmph." Gilbert quickly placed a palm over Oz's mouth and the latter chuckled at the incredulous glare he was receiving.

"Q-quiet," Gilbert muttered. Releasing his mouth, he resumed unbuttoning his vest and when he reached the end he looked up expectantly so the other male could help him shrug it off. He didn't expect for the blond to be staring at him how he was – thoughtfully, almost nervously, much unlike just prior. A few moments passed - seconds, but they felt like minutes.

"Is... everything alright, Oz?"

Oz blinked out of whatever thought process merited such a look and the corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked, tired smile.

The valet swallowed and quickly distracted himself from that smile by helping him out of his vest. It took him by surprise when Oz's hand re-tangled itself in his hair immediately afterward. "I like it," Oz said.

"Like what...?" he replied, genuinely confused.

"Your hair," Oz responded, threading it through his fingers. Gilbert knew there was something weighing heavily on Oz's mind, but it helped to know he wasn't trying to hide that fact from him. Oz unbuttoned the first two buttons of his white button-down shirt and scooted backwards to situate himself into the bed. He pulled his pants off under the covers and they fell in a heap on the floor, before he settled in and sighed contentedly.

"Isn't it like seaweed?" Gilbert asked, frowning, as he folded the discarded pants and placed them with his vest in the laundry pile beside the wardrobe. He sincerely hoped at least Oz wouldn't think so...

"It is a little like seaweed," the blond agreed, and Gilbert's heart dropped. He fingered the strands self-consciously and Oz laughed into the pillow he was hugging, watching. Gilbert frowned at him. Was Oz just teasing him like always...?

"Don't be mad, Gil, I said I like it," he said between tired chuckles. Gilbert sighed and blew out the oil lamp on the blond's side of the bed. Then he removed his gloves, cravat, and pants – there was no sense bothering with nightclothes so late, since Oz didn't either – and circled around to the other side, crawling in slightly wary. This bed wasn't as large as the last one they'd shared in the inn. But he was so exhausted, it hardly mattered. He barely jumped when Oz found his hand under the covers and held it; he found the touch was rather calming. His tense muscles gradually relaxed, his form all but swallowed up by the lush linens.

"You're cute, Gil," Oz said just shy of a whisper, and the latter's heart picked up speed. He could hear the smile in the other male's voice. This wasn't the first time he's said that, anyway. He shifted a little.

"I'm glad you think so," he replied dismissively, embarrassed, settling stiffly into the plush of the pillow beneath his ear.

"Mm? Aren't you curious what I find cute about you, Gil~?" It seemed Oz's teasing mood was back.

Ah, Gilbert was so tired...

"No," he said shortly, his voice small but thick with exasperation.

"I'd personally prefer something along the lines of handsome if it were me-"

"Please get some rest, Oz," he said, picking his pillow up with his free arm and hugging it to his burning face. The blond poked at the edge of it with his free hand.

"Heh."

The room fell into a quiet then; the energy of the prior conversation seemed to slip between them to where their hands met. Gilbert felt as if the smallest shift would set his entire body aflame.

There were ten whole seconds of silence before the blond spoke again, rousing him from the swirling bits of irrational dreaming thoughts. This time, his tone was much more serious.

"Hey, Gil?" he asked, tightening his grasp just a little to make sure he was listening.

"Mm?" he mumbled, allowing their palms to fit more intimately together. He replaced the pillow beneath his head and turned toward his voice curiously.

"There's something I want to talk to you about. Not now, but... when we're both... well, not like this..."

Something he wanted to talk about...? Why did that put his nerves on edge?

"Okay..." he agreed.

There was a tense pause and a nervous shuffling; the palm in his tightened almost imperceptibly. What could Oz possibly have to say to him that would make him worry as he was...? Gil felt the need to alleviate some of his concern. He turned fully onto his side and held Oz's hand in both of his, close to his chest. The body next to his went still, waiting.

"I don't mind," he said a bit hastily before clarifying, "That is, if there's something you need then… please know that I'd never be disappointed with you, Oz." He clenched his eyes shut, although in the pitch darkness of the room it hardly made a difference. They fell into silence again, but something seemed to soften then; Oz's wrist relaxed under his touch and Gilbert's eyes blinked open. The blond lifted his hand and eased it between his cheek and the pillow, and Gilbert's hands raised to hold it close. He settled against it, not entirely in his right mind as the long-since established sleepiness made itself present. Whether or not his master said anything more was unknown to him for that was the last thing he remembered before falling into restful sleep.

A whisper: "Thanks, Gil."