Fic: Rainy Day Ritual
Summary: Gilbert is so focused on giving Oz a really good foot massage, he doesn’t notice how much his master is really, really enjoying it.
Words: 1191
Rating: M, but only mildly so. No one gets naked.
Writer’s Note: This is inspired by a kink meme prompt: “After a long day of walking around in the pouring rain Oz is tired and moody and demands Gil give him a foot massage. Gil complies, and he's very, very good at it, but he's so focused on his task he doesn't realise Oz is enjoying it a little too much.”
()
“Oz…?” said Gil, rather reluctantly. “Could you take the keys out of my pocket and unlock the door? I don't have a free hand.”
Oz stopped stomping his boots on the pavement long enough to notice that his servant’s arms were burdened with all the bags of groceries. Oz hadn’t deigned to carry even one of them back to Gil’s apartment, because he’d been in such a grumpy mood from hours of walking around in the rain.
“Gaa…” Oz grumbled, reaching into Gil’s coat pocket and pulling out the keys. He fumbled with trying to find the right key, and all the while, the rain kept coming down all around them, soaking them to the skin. “Why do you have to have so many keys, Gil?” Gil was about ready to drop the bags all over the place.
“It’s the silver one with the-“
“Ah, I found it.” Oz turned the key and the door opened.
They went in and Gil dumped all the groceries on the kitchen counter. He’d planned to make beef stew that evening and they’d gone out looking for ingredients and subsequently lost Alice, who had wondered off in search of her favorite drumstick vendor. And when they finally found her, she’d actually been offered a job with a food cart, cooking ribs and tube steaks. Since she was busy with work, they’d come home without her.
Oz pulled off his boots and dumped them out in the sink. Gil did the same, and then the two of them changed into clean dry clothes.
“I don’t know why,” said Oz, flopping into the sofa, “but I’m really annoyed at Alice right now. She shouldn’t just be getting a job without checking with us first…to make sure her shifts don’t conflict with anything else we have planned, ya know?”
Gil nodded and continued putting the groceries away.
“It’s like…she only thinks of herself,” Oz lamented, wrapping a blanket around himself. “Jeez, could you light a fire, it’s freezing!”
Gil tossed a couple of logs in the fireplace and put some crumpled papers around them, then lit the papers with a match. When the fire began to burn in earnest, Oz said,
“Hey, I could use a foot rub over here.”
Now who’s only thinking of himself? thought Gil, but he didn’t say anything, because Oz was his master, and he would do anything for him. Anything at all. He knelt down on the sofa next to the young blond man and suddenly found a pair of bare feet on his lap. Oz lay back on the sofa and tossed his arm over his eyes, while two big hands enveloped his feet with their warmth.
Gil focused his attention on the left foot first, rubbing his thumbs along the arch to the ball of the foot all the way to the edges of the toes and back again. He tried to ensure that his hands were dry so that there would be no unpleasant pulling of the skin on the delicate tops of his master’s feet. He pressed in between the bones on the top of the foot, searching for the thin layer of muscle wherever his hands wandered, knowing it would surely be the most pleasant sort of touch.
Oz’s lips quivered slightly as he submitted to his servant’s strong, gentle hands. He moved his arm from his eyes to cover his mouth, trying to smother the tiny inhalations of breath he was having a hard time controlling. If I make any noise, he thought, he’ll probably think he’s hurting me and might stop. And I don’t want him to stop ‘cos this feels so good…
Gil felt that by his massaging, he was performing a kind of solemn meditation; a prayer to protect and keep healthy this master he loved so much. His attention turned to the right foot and tried to repeat the exact movements he’d done on the left, so that Oz would feel even and balanced. He tried to control the pressure of his fingers so that it would be just right - strong enough to help soothe the aches, but not hard enough to hurt.
Oz curled the toes of his other foot involuntarily, while trying to get a grip on himself. The pleasant sensation of tickling - but not quite tickling - was coursing from his feet, up his leg to his lower abdomen and back down again. The rain was beating down hard on the roof and window. Between the sound of the rain and the crackling of the fire, it was almost impossible for Gil - who was preoccupied anyway -- to hear the involuntarily gasping sounds coming from his master.
Oz felt himself grow hard and felt self-conscious about it. He put up the knee of his left leg and bent it in slightly to try to hide his arousal. Trying to keep himself from squirming too much was taking a lot of effort on his part, and he covered his face with both hands to try to maintain his composure.
His toes are still cold after all this rubbing, Gil thought, then the idea occurred to him to put Oz’s toes in his mouth. He raised one of Oz’s feet to his open mouth and slowly began licking and sucking on his toes with gentle urgency.
“Guuuhhhh!” Oz let out a deep, needy groan that howled up from the depths of desperation. He uncovered his face and looked up to see just what was making him feel so good, saw Gil’s mouth and felt a jolt of energy go straight to his groin.
Gil looked up, wide-eyed, his mouth still sucking his master’s big toe. He saw the look on Oz’ face - cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes filled with a lusty gaze he’d never seen directed at him before - and felt a quivering rush of blood moving toward his lower abdomen, causing a small tent to form in his trousers. Without thinking he increased the frequency of his sucking and focused his gaze intently on his master’s movements. Oz squirmed and thrashed, while Gil slid his tongue between his toes and flicked it back and forth.
“Don’t stop, Gil…don’t stop…” Oz panted, grabbing the bulge in his trousers and stroking through the fabric.
Gil was seized with a sudden urge to use his mouth elsewhere on Oz’s body, but before he could manifest that desire, Oz had already shuddered into orgasm, his body collapsing into relaxation on the couch.
He released his master’s foot from his grasp, jealous of Oz’s ability to just lose it, with only minimal friction through clothing. I remember when I was a teen and could do that, he thought, shaking his head and looking down at his own arousal.
“Hey Gil, that was great,” said Oz, sleepily. “Is the stew ready yet?”
Gil gritted his teeth.
“I haven’t even started it yet.”
“Well you might want to get busy, I’m hungry.”
Gil exhaled a shuddering breath, threw a blanket over Oz and walked stiffly toward the kitchen, thinking briefly of adding a ‘special sauce’ to the stew, but then remembered he’d have to eat it, too.
END
Words: 1191
Rating: M, but only mildly so. No one gets naked.
Writer’s Note: This is inspired by a kink meme prompt: “After a long day of walking around in the pouring rain Oz is tired and moody and demands Gil give him a foot massage. Gil complies, and he's very, very good at it, but he's so focused on his task he doesn't realise Oz is enjoying it a little too much.”
()
“Oz…?” said Gil, rather reluctantly. “Could you take the keys out of my pocket and unlock the door? I don't have a free hand.”
Oz stopped stomping his boots on the pavement long enough to notice that his servant’s arms were burdened with all the bags of groceries. Oz hadn’t deigned to carry even one of them back to Gil’s apartment, because he’d been in such a grumpy mood from hours of walking around in the rain.
“Gaa…” Oz grumbled, reaching into Gil’s coat pocket and pulling out the keys. He fumbled with trying to find the right key, and all the while, the rain kept coming down all around them, soaking them to the skin. “Why do you have to have so many keys, Gil?” Gil was about ready to drop the bags all over the place.
“It’s the silver one with the-“
“Ah, I found it.” Oz turned the key and the door opened.
They went in and Gil dumped all the groceries on the kitchen counter. He’d planned to make beef stew that evening and they’d gone out looking for ingredients and subsequently lost Alice, who had wondered off in search of her favorite drumstick vendor. And when they finally found her, she’d actually been offered a job with a food cart, cooking ribs and tube steaks. Since she was busy with work, they’d come home without her.
Oz pulled off his boots and dumped them out in the sink. Gil did the same, and then the two of them changed into clean dry clothes.
“I don’t know why,” said Oz, flopping into the sofa, “but I’m really annoyed at Alice right now. She shouldn’t just be getting a job without checking with us first…to make sure her shifts don’t conflict with anything else we have planned, ya know?”
Gil nodded and continued putting the groceries away.
“It’s like…she only thinks of herself,” Oz lamented, wrapping a blanket around himself. “Jeez, could you light a fire, it’s freezing!”
Gil tossed a couple of logs in the fireplace and put some crumpled papers around them, then lit the papers with a match. When the fire began to burn in earnest, Oz said,
“Hey, I could use a foot rub over here.”
Now who’s only thinking of himself? thought Gil, but he didn’t say anything, because Oz was his master, and he would do anything for him. Anything at all. He knelt down on the sofa next to the young blond man and suddenly found a pair of bare feet on his lap. Oz lay back on the sofa and tossed his arm over his eyes, while two big hands enveloped his feet with their warmth.
Gil focused his attention on the left foot first, rubbing his thumbs along the arch to the ball of the foot all the way to the edges of the toes and back again. He tried to ensure that his hands were dry so that there would be no unpleasant pulling of the skin on the delicate tops of his master’s feet. He pressed in between the bones on the top of the foot, searching for the thin layer of muscle wherever his hands wandered, knowing it would surely be the most pleasant sort of touch.
Oz’s lips quivered slightly as he submitted to his servant’s strong, gentle hands. He moved his arm from his eyes to cover his mouth, trying to smother the tiny inhalations of breath he was having a hard time controlling. If I make any noise, he thought, he’ll probably think he’s hurting me and might stop. And I don’t want him to stop ‘cos this feels so good…
Gil felt that by his massaging, he was performing a kind of solemn meditation; a prayer to protect and keep healthy this master he loved so much. His attention turned to the right foot and tried to repeat the exact movements he’d done on the left, so that Oz would feel even and balanced. He tried to control the pressure of his fingers so that it would be just right - strong enough to help soothe the aches, but not hard enough to hurt.
Oz curled the toes of his other foot involuntarily, while trying to get a grip on himself. The pleasant sensation of tickling - but not quite tickling - was coursing from his feet, up his leg to his lower abdomen and back down again. The rain was beating down hard on the roof and window. Between the sound of the rain and the crackling of the fire, it was almost impossible for Gil - who was preoccupied anyway -- to hear the involuntarily gasping sounds coming from his master.
Oz felt himself grow hard and felt self-conscious about it. He put up the knee of his left leg and bent it in slightly to try to hide his arousal. Trying to keep himself from squirming too much was taking a lot of effort on his part, and he covered his face with both hands to try to maintain his composure.
His toes are still cold after all this rubbing, Gil thought, then the idea occurred to him to put Oz’s toes in his mouth. He raised one of Oz’s feet to his open mouth and slowly began licking and sucking on his toes with gentle urgency.
“Guuuhhhh!” Oz let out a deep, needy groan that howled up from the depths of desperation. He uncovered his face and looked up to see just what was making him feel so good, saw Gil’s mouth and felt a jolt of energy go straight to his groin.
Gil looked up, wide-eyed, his mouth still sucking his master’s big toe. He saw the look on Oz’ face - cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes filled with a lusty gaze he’d never seen directed at him before - and felt a quivering rush of blood moving toward his lower abdomen, causing a small tent to form in his trousers. Without thinking he increased the frequency of his sucking and focused his gaze intently on his master’s movements. Oz squirmed and thrashed, while Gil slid his tongue between his toes and flicked it back and forth.
“Don’t stop, Gil…don’t stop…” Oz panted, grabbing the bulge in his trousers and stroking through the fabric.
Gil was seized with a sudden urge to use his mouth elsewhere on Oz’s body, but before he could manifest that desire, Oz had already shuddered into orgasm, his body collapsing into relaxation on the couch.
He released his master’s foot from his grasp, jealous of Oz’s ability to just lose it, with only minimal friction through clothing. I remember when I was a teen and could do that, he thought, shaking his head and looking down at his own arousal.
“Hey Gil, that was great,” said Oz, sleepily. “Is the stew ready yet?”
Gil gritted his teeth.
“I haven’t even started it yet.”
“Well you might want to get busy, I’m hungry.”
Gil exhaled a shuddering breath, threw a blanket over Oz and walked stiffly toward the kitchen, thinking briefly of adding a ‘special sauce’ to the stew, but then remembered he’d have to eat it, too.
END