Hello again! I apologize that it's taken me so long to finish the second chapter! My excuse is that I was studying for the MCAT in May, and I was studying in Spain in June and July. My sister and I have worked our butts off these past few days to write this chapter. I've decided to make this a three-shot, and I've already started the third chapter. I hope to finish it soon. Much thanks once again to my sister for all of her help! We both know that she is by far the better writer, and I couldn't do this without her! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy.

When he was younger, Oz had been taught that "silence is golden." Silence provided the opportunity to think and to focus, whereas noise only inhibited those things. In his experience, however, silence was equal to loneliness. The mansion in which he had grown up had often been silent, and it was this silence that had always hung over him: a stubborn heaviness weighing on his shoulders, an inexorable darkness rife with his own vile fears. And so Oz rebelled against it, in a gentle way, taking it upon himself to provide the mansion with much-needed cheer, going about both work and play as loudly and boisterously as he could get away with in such polite company as what constantly surrounded him. As the years passed, however, he grew to harbor the conviction that this claim that silence was golden was only a fabrication spun by adults for the sole purpose of keeping their children from distracting them while they carried out their daily work.

Certainly there was nothing "golden" about the silence that followed Gil's confession, and yet for once in his life, Oz was totally at a loss as to how to break it. He lay there in Gil's arms, barely breathing, silently begging himself to think, but as someone who had always loathed the silence and had forsaken it, he found now that he could not utilize it as he had been taught.

He had no clue how for how long they lay there listening only to the sounds of their steady breathing and the wind scraping against the windows, but he knew he could no longer remain silent when Gil called out his name, an anxious intonation to his voice. And Oz could not bring himself to ignore him any longer, and so he took a deep breath, gently extricated himself from the other's embrace, and sat up so that they were face to face.

"Gil," he began guardedly, very conscious of the wariness creeping into Gil's eyes. "I… Uh… I mean, I-I don't know what to say… to that…"

Gil didn't react. Taking another shaky breath, Oz added, "I mean, I know we just…" Here he made a noncommittal gesture, unable to voice it. "B-But I never considered you as anything more than a friend – a best friend. And I never thought I'd ever… do that with another guy. I mean, it just doesn't make sense, right?" He gave a nervous laugh. "And it's not…" He choked on the word "normal," realizing at the last second that it wasn't the best thing to say given the circumstances, but from the stung look on Gil's face it was clear that he understood perfectly well what was left unsaid. Oz averted his eyes as he thought how to word his next sentence without losing his best friend.

"Gil…" Head bowed, he reached out blindly for his hand. It was cold. "Gil, you're my best friend. I can't lose you, but I can't… I can't…"

"But you can't feel the same way about me, right?"

The desolation and bitterness laced in his tone made Oz cringe. The hand beneath his began to tremble ever so slightly.

"Well, we didn't think things through, and it was a – a mistake to –"

"My love for you isn't a mistake!"

Taken aback at the sudden outburst, Oz snapped his head up to find Gil glaring at him, eyes bright and angry.

"How – how can you –" Snatching his hand back, he clutched at his chest as he struggled to speak. "Y-you were responding… I thought that… If you didn't want to, then why –"

"I don't know, Gil! I wasn't thinking straight back then! I didn't know what I was doing! You made me think that I wanted it!"

The color drained from Gil's face, and Oz knew instantly that he'd said the wrong thing.

"I… you… B-but you told me –!"

"Forget what I told you! Forget everything that just happened!" Oz snapped, wringing the bedclothes beneath him as his face began to redden with anger and embarrassment. "Just forget it all!" Feverishly, he began pulling his nightclothes back on, succumbing to yet another intense wave of shame as he did so.

"Forget?" Gil repeated, stunned. "I-I've had these feelings for you for so long and dreamed about this so many times, and now that it's finally happened, you tell me to just forget it all?" He covered the side of his face with his right hand, bowing his head slightly as he grasped distractedly at his hair. When he spoke again, his voice came out tired and despondent. "Do you really think it's that simple? Do you think that I haven't tried…"

The resignation in this confession silenced Oz at once, and suddenly he was struck by the urge to run, to escape from this room and everything that had transpired there, to preserve their friendship, to avoid having to look at his heartbroken friend, the person he cared about most in the world.

"Just go," came Gil's quiet plea only a moment later, and although Oz wanted nothing more than to obey, he found he just couldn't leave like this. He was so confused; everything had changed so drastically and suddenly, and he was hurt as well by the whole ordeal. Why couldn't Gil tell? Why was he so insistent on playing the victim while making Oz out to be the villain?

"C-can't you tell that this is hard on me, too?!" Oz all but shouted, leaping up from the bed and turning to glower at Gil. "Don't you see that I'm hurting, too?!"

And with that, he turned and fled from the bedroom.

"Hey, Oz, are you going to eat that? Oz!"

"Huh?" Startled, Oz looked down at his plate, on which lay a slice of melon and two sausage links, one of which had already been pierced by Alice's impatient fork. "Oh, no, you can have it." In a flash both links were gone, but the melon remained conspicuously behind. He smiled faintly. When it felt like everything else was crashing down around him, it was nice to see that Alice still remained the same.

He had hardly slept at all the previous night. When he finally had been able to fall into a fitful sleep, he was haunted by images of Gil's tormented face and broken voice. He had to get out of the mansion for the day. He didn't know how he would react if he saw him.

"Hey, Alice, do you want to go into town today?"

Alice glanced up from her plate. "What for?"

Oz shrugged. "Nothing in particular, but since we have the day off, I figured it might be more fun to go into town than to hang out here. Plus, we can stop by that meat stall that you like!"

Alice needed no further persuasion. "Then what are you waiting for? Let's go!" Grabbing his hand, she jumped up from her seat and pulled him along.

"Ah, wait a second, Alice! We have to call for a carriage! Alice!"

Alice didn't stop running until they had reached the foyer. Grateful, Oz bent over, trying to regain his breath. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until they came to a sudden stop nearby. Before he could think, Alice spoke up.

"Well, well, if it isn't Seaweed-Head! You're up late today, aren't you?"

Oz froze. In a daze, he straightened and made brief eye contact with Gil. Upon seeing the hollowness in his countenance, Oz felt his chest tighten. At the same time, he was irked by Gil's insistence on playing the victim.

"C'mon, Alice," said Oz quietly, squeezing her hand. He saw Gil's eyes slide from his face to their clasped hands, his mouth tightening almost imperceptibly.

"Huh?" asked Alice, bemused. "You aren't going to ask Seaweed-Head to come?"

"Gil has some work to do," he lied. "We don't want to get in his way." He forced a cheerful smile. "Where did that enthusiasm from a moment ago go? Let's go!"

And for the second time, he turned his back on Gil and walked away, chatting frivolously with Alice as he tried to swallow the guilt and anger threatening to consume him.

They made it to town within the hour, and Oz tried his best to relax and stop thinking about Gil. Luckily, Alice's energy proved to be a great distraction; that is, until she brought up that very person on their journey home.

"Did something happen between you and Seaweed-Head?"

Surprised by her question, Oz dropped the remainder of his crêpe on the sidewalk. "Ah, my crêpe!" He picked it up quickly and brushed it off before shoving it into his mouth. "Why d'ya ask?"

"Well, it's not like I care or anything," she assured him, crossing her arms and glancing away in a display of airiness. "But I noticed this strange tension between the two of you this morning, and it just felt like something had happened."

Oz stared, amazed that she had picked up on it so easily. Although she pretended not to care, he knew that it must have bothered her or she wouldn't have said anything. Smiling warmly, he reached out and patted her on the head.

"Don't worry, nothing's going on between us," he said, forcing as much confidence as he could into his lie. The narrowed eyebrows indicated that she didn't entirely believe him.

"Oh, look!" he added quickly by way of diversion. "There's our carriage! Let's hurry home before the sun sets."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the carriage. Neither of them, however, said a word throughout the ride.

"Oz-sama? Oz-sama? Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Oz shook his head slightly, bringing himself out of his trance. Sharon sat across from him at the round table, dressed in an elegant evening gown, and blinked perplexedly from over her teacup. "Oh, sorry, I must have spaced out for a minute," Oz said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "What were you saying?"

"No," she said after a moment, carefully setting her cup back onto its saucer with a gentle click. "I-it's nothing."

It had shocked Oz greatly when Sharon invited him to tea tonight; he had, to his own astonishment, almost entirely forgotten about her after what had transpired a week ago. Some time between then and now, his heart had quietly emptied itself of all the emotions he once harbored for her, and she had since ceased to haunt his mind like before she had so often done. It was only while trying vainly to recall the moment his heart had gone hollow for her that he realized he hadn't seen her about the mansion at all since her rejection of him. Could it be, he wondered, that Sharon had been avoiding him ever since then, similar to how he was now avoiding Gil? His suspicions were all but confirmed when she spoke again:

"Oz-sama… Are you still upset with me for not accepting your feelings?"

"Wh-what?" Oz spluttered, cheeks reddening. He quickly set his teacup down so as to avoid an accident.

"I… I truly regret that I was unable to return your feelings," she continued softly, bringing her delicately curled fist to her chest and lowering her eyes to the carpet. "I hope you'll be able to forgive me… And that I tried to hide from you all week… I-I'm very ashamed of my actions. It was immature of me and cruel to you, Oz-sama. I-I've been thinking about it ever since that night, and I –"

"Sh-Sharon-chan!" Oz interrupted, overwhelmed by this sudden outpouring of emotion. "I forgive you! I was never angry at you! In fact, I'm… I'm feeling much better now. So… So don't worry about me."

And he realized that it was true he wasn't angry at Sharon – how could he be when his mind was so occupied elsewhere? Not only that, he had barely even had time to be upset about her rejection because of what had happened almost directly after. It was odd; he found now that he could hardly recall being in love with her in the first place.

"Oz-sama," said Sharon presently, her voice anxious. "Are - Are you telling the truth?"

"M-mm! Of course!" he insisted, giving her a small smile in confirmation. "I respect Sharon-chan's honesty. I could never be angry with you! I've accepted it, and I'm fine now. I promise!"

Sharon's hand clenched tighter and began to tremble somewhat. "I…" she started quietly, biting her lip, "I'm so… relieved! I'm so relieved, Oz-sama! I was so afraid that I had broken your heart… I'm so glad."

Oz laughed a little, but it sounded false even to his ears. Despite even the diversion that Sharon presented, he still couldn't get Gil out of his head.

"I-is something else bothering you, Oz-sama?"

Oz lifted his head up in surprise. "Wh-what makes you think that something's bothering me?" he asked, suddenly alert.

Sharon gave him a placid smile. "Let's call it a woman's intuition."

Oz paused. "Nothing's wrong," he said at length. "I guess I'm just a little bored now that things have quieted down." Sharon didn't look convinced. "Really, I'm fine," he asserted. "Getting rejected is part of life. I'm better now."

"Did something happen between you and Gilbert-san?"

"With Gil?" Oz laughed as airily as he could, but he felt his stomach churn. "Gil knows that he could never win a fight with his master. What makes you ask?" he added, trying not to appear too interested.

"Gilbert-san seems to be down about something."

"You've seen him?!" Oz blurted out. Gil hadn't returned to the mansion since the morning Oz saw him before going into town. He hadn't bothered to ask where he had gone off to and was, actually, too apprehensive of seeing him to dare to. Still, he was curious as to his servant's current whereabouts and vaguely hoped that Sharon might know them.

"Yes, he's been spending a lot of time at Headquarters," she told him, eyeing him rather suspiciously. "Has he not been coming home at night?"

"Oh, uh – I'm not sure," Oz lied quickly. "He told me that he had a lot of work to catch up on, so maybe he's been coming home after I'm already asleep."

"Or maybe he's staying in his apartment," she mused. "Although I must admit that I can't see why, as it's quite out of the way from Headquarters compared to this mansion."

An uneasy silence fell over them. Oz fidgeted, trying to come up with something clever to say, but nothing struck him.

After a few moments had passed this way, Sharon, who seemed to have noticed his restlessness, cautiously asked, "By any chance, did you and Gilbert-san quarrel, Oz-sama? You seem rather uncomfortable all of a sudden."

"W-well, maybe we did get into a little fight," Oz admitted reluctantly, squeezing his fingers together in his lap.

"As I suspected," Sharon said, with some satisfaction.

"It's just –" Oz clenched his fist under the table as he was suddenly overtaken by remembrances of all the anger and humiliation he suffered by Gil's hand. "I-it's just that Gil doesn't think before he acts and then he – he doesn't think about how it makes other feel!" He said this last part hotly, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist tighter. He couldn't believe he was opening up to Sharon about this.

But she remained calm, as she was used to, and after a few moments' contemplation she said, very levelly, "Well, Oz-sama, it's difficult to know how others are feeling if they don't express it, isn't it?

Oz just barely stopped himself from snorting in annoyance. "Yeah. So? He expressed himself, and he ended up hurting me and hurting himself, too, I think."

"Then," said Sharon, bridging her hands and resting her chin on them, "why don't you let Gilbert-san know exactly how you felt when he acted the way he did? I've known Gilbert-san for quite a while, Oz-sama, and I know he wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt you. You must express to him how he made you feel or else he may not realize his error."

"Let him know… how I felt?" Oz asked, and at that moment, he felt the seed of anger planted within him on that night begin to take root. "Y-yeah… That's right… I should let him know exactly how I felt." Suddenly excited by his almost evil intent, Oz leapt to his feet, startling Sharon so thoroughly that she nearly spilled her tea. "Thanks, Sharon-chan!" he cried, feeling so giddy all of a sudden that he very nearly laughed. "I think I'll do just that! Did you say he was at his apartment?"

"W-well, I'm not entirely certain, but –"

"I have to see him right away! I'll call for a carriage to be prepared!" He was halfway out the sitting room when Sharon called out to him.

"Oz-sama!" she said, breathlessly. "I hope everything goes well between you and Gilbert-san!"

Oz turned somewhat, a cold grin set on his lips. "Don't worry," he said. "Everything will turn out just fine!"

And without another word, he dashed from the room.

The click of the lock shook Oz out of his reverie. The door creaked as it swung open. Oz didn't move. He heard Gil shuffle into the apartment, dump something on the kitchen table, and then rummage around a bit in the near-darkness. A few moments later, the room was illuminated.

"O-Oz!" Gil exclaimed, jumping a little upon perceiving his unexpected guest. "Wh-what are you doing here?!"

"So you've been hiding out here," Oz said, keeping his voice light and unconcerned.

"W-working, not hiding," Gil muttered, turning away his face. "Pandora gave me some missions to carry out. They didn't have anything to do with that stupid rabbit's memories, so I decided to do them alone. Anyway, what are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

Oz flapped his hand disinterestedly at the door. "You gave me a spare key ages ago, remember?" He turned his face toward the window so as to blind Gil to the emotions he feared would show on it.

"Y-yeah, that's right," Gil assented, moving back to the entryway to hang up his hat and coat.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them then. Oz silently steeled himself to press on, to do what he'd come here for. It was too late to back down now, and the burning flame of injustice within him would not have forgiven him if he had.

"Gil." His voice broke through the silence. "Come here."

Gil didn't move. "Oz… Wh-why?"

"That's an order."

He watched as Gil approached him, eyes downcast and shoulders somewhat slouched.

"Sit down." Oz pointed to a nearby chair, and Gil reluctantly took it. Oz crossed his arms. "So, were you planning on avoiding me forever?"

Gil looked affronted. "Not forever! I was just giving you space – I thought you wanted that!"

"I-I did," Oz snapped, beginning to feel annoyed in spite of himself. "I thought that if you went away, I'd feel better! But I don't feel any better at all! I still feel… so… dirty. I feel humiliated, Gil! You humiliated me!"

"Oz!" Gil cried, trying to get to his feet, but Oz pushed him back down. "I didn't – what we did – that is, I never meant to humiliate you! I –"

"Shut up," Oz interrupted, glowering, but he could think of nothing of substance to add to his response, and so he fell quiet as Gil continued.

"I only… I only wanted… to show you how much I love you… That was all." His face was flushed pink, and he wouldn't meet Oz's eyes. Silence prevailed again, but Oz was now too consumed with a fresh burst of anger that it didn't last.

"Prove it to me," he said forcefully, and when Gil glanced up at him in astonishment, he added roughly, "Prove that you love me, Gil! Right here and now! Take off my tie!"

Gil hesitated for a moment before slowly rising from his seat and starting to undo the knot at Oz's throat. That done, the garment was slipped from around his neck and listlessly tossed it to the floor.

"What are you waiting for?" Oz demanded a moment after, unfolding his arms and spreading them out from his sides. "Take off the rest of it! The shirt and vest, the boots, the shorts – hurry up!"

Gil seemed too startled to disobey, or perhaps he was so overcome by remembrances from ten years ago of dressing and undressing his master that he simply moved on instinct. Either way, the task was duly carried out, and minutes later, Oz stood before him in nothing but his boxers, his face slightly warm but his resolve perfectly steady. Gil, even more red-faced than before, blatantly refused to make eye contact with him, his head turned almost defiantly to the side.

"Look at me, Gil," Oz murmured, pushing Gil down onto his knees and sliding his hand beneath his chin. His heart thudded, a pulse of sadistic pleasure passing through him. He smirked at Gil's obvious discomfort. "Hey, Gil – are you aroused?" he mused, his grin broadening.

"O-Oz…" was all Gil could manage before Oz placed a hand on the top of his head and slowly began to run his fingers through his hair. Involuntarily, it seemed, Gil shivered.

"A guilty reaction," Oz observed with another smirk. Gil seemed to be at a loss for words. "Have you ever touched yourself, Gil?" he asked recklessly, becoming increasingly more thrilled with the amount of power he held over his servant. "I bet you have. Am I right?"

He watched as a bead of sweat formed on Gil's forehead and slipped down his face. His lips curled into a shrewd grin. Gil's every reaction – the sweaty, flushed face, the dry lips, the clenched, shaky fists – excited him to the point where he no longer felt the shame that had been inflicted on him a week before. He was in control now, not Gil. And he could do whatever he wanted to his precious servant.

"Put your hands on me, Gil."

Gil's head shot up. "W-What?!"

Oz bent down until their faces were mere inches apart. "I know you know how to do it," he said softly. "All of those years of practice really came in handy, huh?"

Finally Gil burst out, "Oz, wh-what are you –"

While he was talking, Oz grabbed his right hand and placed it over the front of his boxers. Gil looked as if he might faint.

"Enough talking," he ordered. "Take them off."

"I-I can't –"

"Now!"

Hands trembling, Gil slipped his fingers inside the waistband of the boxers and slid them down Oz's legs. Unsure of where to look, he settled for focusing on the window to his right until Oz latched his fingers in his hair and turned his head back to face him.

"I want your mouth around me."

Gil's eyes found his, and Oz detected a faint trace of hope within them. Before he had much time to consider the matter, however, Gil took a deep breath and wrapped his mouth hesitantly around the tip of his member. Oz bit his tongue to prevent himself from shouting out. No matter what, he was determined to be in control this time around. He positively refused to let Gil dominate him again.

"Gil," he said, trying to prevent his voice from shaking. "Use your tongue!"

Gil's tongue swirled around the tip gently and teased the slit. Oz squeezed his eyes shut and snatched at Gil's hair with his right hand to steady himself.

"Go up farther!" he commanded, thrusting forward a bit. Gil obliged, taking more of him into his mouth and licking the underside of his shaft. Oz's breath hitched in his throat. Since he had experienced this one time before, he had been certain that this time he would be able to control his reactions, but already his legs were quaking, and he was desperately fighting against making a sound. Vaguely he wondered if Gil had ever experienced this before. His grip on Gil's hair tightened as he tried to steady his legs. Noticing that Oz was moments away from collapsing, Gil gently eased him into the wooden chair behind him. Secretly relieved, Oz settled into the chair, breathing deeply through his nose.

"Gil," he demanded. "Suck harder!"

Subconsciously, one of Oz's hands gripped the bottom of the chair while the other remained entangled in Gil's messy hair. He leaned against the chair, head tipping back and heels bracing against the floor. He hardly cared that the sides of the chair were digging into his thighs; all he could feel was Gil's mouth, warm and wet and wonderful around him, and it felt so good, so much better than he had remembered. Mouth agape, breath coming in short pants, he thrust his hips up and instantly heard a choking noise. Hands grasped at his thighs, pushing them back into the chair. Stomach clenching, Oz barely recognized what had happened. He felt hot all over and his hands were shaking and sweaty and all he could focus on was his imminent release.

"AHH!" Oz moaned as he came into Gil's mouth, breaking his rule to remain silent. Gil pulled away, and Oz took a moment to regain his breath.

Neither of them moved for a few minutes. Finally, when Oz had recovered, he pulled his boxers back on and plopped down onto Gil's lap. Gil shot him a pained look. Smiling, Oz embraced him and whispered into his ear,

"Thank you, Gil. You were amazing. But," His grin widened. "You should swallow that, right?" he suggested dangerously. The look that Gil gave him contained an ounce of – was that disgust? –, but he obeyed anyways, looking a bit sick afterwards.

He kissed his earlobe, and then added, "But now it seems that we have another problem to deal with, hm?" To emphasize his point, he ground his bottom lightly into Gil's lap.

Gil yelped and tried to push him off. Oz laughed.

"No need to be shy!" he teased darkly, tugging on strands of Gil's hair, causing him to wince. "I'll admit that I'm a bit surprised that Gil can get so aroused from doing this sort of thing to somebody else. Isn't it shameful?"

He began kissing along Gil's jawbone, making him shudder. Once he reached the corner of his chin, he slid his lips down his throat, pulling his head back by the hair still clutched in his fingers. When he reached the skin between the neck and the clavicle, he bit down hard. Gil cried out and then groaned when Oz started sucking on the spot.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked, blowing on the wound, and Gil flinched. "Gil always was a bit of a masochist."

"I'm not –!"

"Then why do you like it when I yank your hair?" Oz interrupted, pulling on a strand of hair to prove his point. "Why do you like it when I bite you? I know you do – you're so aroused right now! Ah, but what to do?" he wondered aloud. "I'm too tired to help Gil out, as much as I'd like to." He placed his hand on the bulge in Gil's lap.

"Don't worry about it," Gil said gruffly, swatting his hand away. "I can handle it on my own."

"Oh, really?" Oz said, eyes glinting. "I'd like to see that."

Gil flushed when he realized what he'd said. "I didn't mean –!"

"Then what did you mean?"

"Nothing," he muttered, embarrassed. "A-anyway, I thought you were tired."

"Not too tired to watch you finish up."

"Oz! That's –"

"What?" Oz said innocently. "I want to see the technique that Gil perfected during all those years of my absence."

Right after he said it, he knew he'd crossed a boundary.

"Enough." Gil's voice was suddenly cold and serious. "Do you think this is funny? Do you really enjoy mocking my feelings that much?"

Oz didn't respond, partly annoyed at the sudden rejection and partly ashamed of his own crass behavior. The high he'd gotten while tormenting Gil was starting to fade, leaving him feeling slightly cold and even upset by his own cruel actions.

"It's your fault," he said finally, lowering his head, unable to meet Gil's eyes. "It's your fault that I'm like this. You made me crazy. I hate this!"

Gil faltered. After a moment, he mumbled, "Yeah, I know." He looked up at Oz. "But no more. I take everything back. All of my feelings for you, the things that we've done – forget them all, Oz. Let's make things like they were before. I can't stand this distance between us any longer!"

But Oz shook his head. "It's too late for that now, stupid!" he snapped. "You expect me to just forget that all that crazy stuff happened? That's impossible, Gil! For you, too! Everything's changed now!"

"Then," interrupted Gil, frustrated, "what do you want me to do?"

Oz stood up and started to pull his clothes back on. Once he was fully dressed, he turned to face Gil and said coldly, "Keep proving to me just how much you love me."