PANDORA HEARTS KINK(-ish) MEME
The Pandora Hearts Kink(-ish) Meme!
Okay, this here's a kink meme! You know the drill! Only... it's actually okay if you want to request/write/draw gen or non-porny pairing fic, because hey, the PH fandom is kinda small, right. 8D;
WARNING: As I'm sure you can tell from the description, this is anything goes, so if you're bothered by the ( Read more... )
Okay, this here's a kink meme! You know the drill! Only... it's actually okay if you want to request/write/draw gen or non-porny pairing fic, because hey, the PH fandom is kinda small, right. 8D;
WARNING: As I'm sure you can tell from the description, this is anything goes, so if you're bothered by the ( Read more... )
Also, no pr0nz yet still, I'm sorry, but there's fluff and quite a bit of kissing. My muses want to take their time, I guess. But I plan to write tghe pr0nz later today to tomorrow, I hope.
Anyway, onward~!
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Oz’s lips parted in response to this, and his breathing deepened. He was startled, here in Gil’s lap, to hear those words thrown about so casually. Alice was watching Gil, and her violet eyes were soft, curious, and bright. Oz watched as she scooted her petite body forward, her eyes switching to Oz’s face. He offered her a slight smile, as she narrowed her eyes and sized up his face, leaning forward until she could probably see Oz’s individual eyelashes and the small smattering of freckles on his nose.
“What’s love?”
The question hung on the air, and Oz sucked in a mouthful of air. He wasn’t sure what to say, and he found he was still stumbling over the fact that Gil had even introduced the concept. He knew he was in love with them both, but the way his servant had stated it-as though the three of them would become inevitable. Alice was leaning towards him, and he found himself drawn in. Eyes slipped close easily, and he was kissing her slowly, gently, more deeply that Gil had kissed him. She was instinctive and intuitive, sucking on his lip in a way that drove him mad.
“Mmm . . .” She at last drew back, and studied his face.
“Was that good?” She looked unsure of herself, the cute little rabbit he adored.
“Yes~!” He beamed, leaned forward, kissed her again. It was hotter, heavier, more complex. His hands had somehow tangled in her hair, and their breathing was heavy. She was moving closer to him, and suddenly Alice was in his lap. He heard Gil grunt under the added weight, and Alice shifted back once again, her face flushed, her eyes a bit crossed. Oz smiled.
“I think we should get back to my rooms.”
“You two need to move, then.” Gil said.
Oz shifted Alice off, easily lifting her by the hips and moving her away. He stood, and stretched, stiff from flopping about on the floor and running around. As Gil stood, the Chain caught his hand, and his face was startled as he was pulled down to kiss her. Oz giggled at Gil’s red face, and he was glad to see Alice accepting this idea. Their kiss was a bit rough, competitive-so very like his dear Gil and Alice.
“C’mon, let’s go!”
Oz poked them in the ribs, and they broke apart, looking irritable at being interrupted. He simply smiled, turned around and took each of their hands, pulling them back down the hall. The tile clacked against their shoes, the empty echo resounding above the bass roar of the storm outside. They got into the sitting room, and Oz shut and locked the door. Gil swallowed audibly, and Oz smiled at him gently. Things were going to be interesting.
Alice had taken a seat on the couch, and Oz joined her, drawing close. She blinked at him for a moment, before she leaned forward and kissed him again. Oz moaned, his hands automatically wresting on her hips. He felt the couch shift as Gil sat down behind him, and his large hands snaked down Oz’s back, rubbing his thin, sharp shoulder blades gently. Oz emitted a small, happy sound, and drew back.
“Er, Gil. We need to explain things to Alice.”
“What?” Gil leaned forward, resting his chin on Oz’s shoulder to better hear.
The teenager’s face burned, “About-about . . . reproduction.”
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“What’s reproduction?” Alice interjected.
“Because . . . I . . . I want . . .” Gil was sure that shade of red was impossible, but Oz managed it.
“Oz! You’re fifteen! Alice isn’t even the age of consent!”
“She’s one hundred and thirteen, Gil.”
“Well-she-you-mmf . . .” Gil was promptly kissed silly by his precocious master. It was warm, openmouthed, their tongues sliding against each other, and Oz shivered as he was French kissed for the first time, his hands tightening into fists. Gil was clearly more experienced, and he wondered what could have happened during those ten years. Though, he really liked this kissing-from-behind thing. Very much. He drew back, to find Gil was dazed.
“Stop thinking! You think too much.”
“You never think!”
“Are you boys gonna answer my question?!” Alice shouted.
They looked up, and she glared at them. Oz sighed, his face still red, “Well . . . it’s like . . . well . . . do you know where babies come from?”
Alice tilted her head, curious, “A mother? That maid Sarah is gonna have a baby.”
“Well, yes. But the baby has to get there in the first place.”
“Oh . . . how does the baby get there?”
Oz turned a bright shade of red, “W-well . . .”
“Well?”
“Well . . . you know people get married and stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Well . . . it has to do with love, right? And making babies is part of it.”
“Oh . . . so if you’re in love you have a baby?” She poked at her stomach, as though she expected a baby bump to suddenly appear there.
“Haha, no. You . . . you have to . . . do something.”
She looked up again, “Why does Oz keep blushing?”
Oz hid his face in his hands, “Take it away, Gil.”
“M-me?!”
Alice stared at him expectantly.
“O-okay. So um . . . men and women look different, right? Well, er . . . it’s like . . . a woman has an egg, and the man has the seed. And . . . um . . . the man has to fertilize the egg and it makes a baby.”
“Ooooh. Cool!” Alice smiled, then frowned, “But how does the seed get to the egg?”
Oz looked up, “Um . . .” He hesitated, before he made a fist with his right hand, and stuck the index finger of his left inside the fist. Alice observed the gesture for a second, before she imitated it. Oz heard Gil smack himself in the forehead.
“Really, Oz?”
Oz blushed, “Shut up! I’m not describing it!”
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“I see.” Alice nodded, “What is it?”
“It’s . . . um . . .” Gil turned red this time, realizing why Oz used a gesture to describe it instead, “W-well . . . men and women are built differently.”
Alice nodded, “I know. I’m all curvy and soft, but you and Oz are all triangular and hard and I like it.”
Oz smiled, and Gil blushed, “Yes. Well . . . er . . . well, sex is something very important and special. It’s like . . . giving yourself completely to another person. You shouldn’t just do it with anyone.”
Alice nodded, “Can I do it with you and Oz? Because Oz said you and I should be in love, too.”
“Um-”
There was a soft intake of breath, and Oz shifted, “I don’t understand.”
“What do you mean?” Gil asked.
“How can you just . . . suddenly decide that, because I said it? It was just a suggestion. You two can just share me if you wa-”
“Anything for you.” Gil cut in, and smiled, stroking Oz’s hair, “We’ll do anything for you, Oz.”
Alice nodded, her face adorable and soft, “I need to take care of my manservant. I want him to be happy.”
“But-but-” Oz was having a problem with understanding this, “I didn’t . . . you two don’t like each other. I mean I know you both kissed, but that was sort of . . . I dunno.”
“Silly Oz.” Alice leaned forward, her face serious, “Just accept it.”
Gil kissed his master on the cheek, “You have a power over us, you know. We can’t say no to you.”
Oz blinked, processing this new information, “Really?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” He blinked again, before a slow smile spread across his face, “So you two will do aaaaaanything for me~?”
Gil gulped, as this was Oz’s I’m-about-to-make-you-uncomfortable voice, “Probably.”
“Well, then. I think I want to-to-go through. With this. All the way.” He was red again, suddenly shy. Gil smiled-he liked this side of Oz, who was innocent and embarrassed and so very pliant under his hands. For once, he would teach his master something.
“Alright.” Gil’s hand traveled down Oz’s scalp, to his neck, lazily tracing his nail down the boy’s spine. Oz shivered, and made to turn around.
“How do we do this?” Alice asked.
“I don’t know.” Oz was shifting in Gil’s lap, and he eventually settled down, his legs straddling the gunman’s hips, “How much experience does Gil have?” Oz leaned in, “Have you been with others?”
Gil bit his lip-he didn’t want Oz to feel hurt, “I have been, yes. But none of it meant anything. I was just lonely.”
Oz nodded, and smiled, but it was sad, “That’s okay.”
“Oz . . .” Gil sighed, and ran the pads of his fingers down Oz’s face, reveling in the flawless skin, “Don’t pretend. Please. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it. But I . . . I’ve always loved you.”
Oz inhaled, the whisper of his breath barely audible, and he closed his eyes, “I love you, too.” He smiled, genuine, now, “Ever since we were young . . .”
“Really?”
“Yes. I think I was only thirteen when I realized . . .”
“I see.”
“And Alice.” Oz drew back, to look around at her, “I love you!”
She blushed, and her mouth twitched into a smile, and then she frowned, and then smiled, “Same. And Raven.”
“Yeah.” Gil smiled, “Love you, Stupid Rabbit.”
“So. Are we doing this, or what?” Oz asked.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“One hundred percent?”
“Yes, Goddammit, let’s move to my bedroom!”
Gil chuckled, and kissed Oz sweetly, “Alright.” He released the boy, and Oz stood slowly, his thin frame unfolding before Gil in a way that made the gunman’s imagination travel to rather naughty places. He stood as well, and helped Alice up, who accepted it grudgingly. Oz beamed, and turned around, walking forward with his hands behind his back, as was his habit. He opened the door to his bedroom, looked over his shoulder at his two loves, and stepped across the threshold.
He would love them. Always.
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This is turning out so lovely.
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Oz sat down on the bed, and he heard Gil shut the door as he and Alice entered. The young heir was nervous-he was sitting with his back to them, and he tempered his breathing, deep breaths trying to calm himself. He listened to their footsteps as they approached, and the bed shifted under a light, then a heavy weight. Oz looked over his shoulder, and watched as Gil sat down, once again behind him. This seemed to be developing into some sort of strange kink.
Alice crawled around, to Oz’s front, and settled in before him. She leaned in and kissed him slowly, this time her tongue sliding into his mouth. Oz moaned, kissed back, and he felt Gil’s hands once again on his back, at his waist. He drew away, and leaned back into Gil. He tilted his head, his large green eyes staring up at the gunman appealingly. Gil smiled down at him, and stroked his hair.
“Ready?”
Oz blushed, and nodded, butterflies flurrying in his stomach, “Just nervous.” He admitted.
“Haha, me too, to be honest.”
“I’m not nervous. You two are silly.” Alice stated, “So, what do we do, now?”
“Hrrmmm . . .” Gil seemed to consider this-he was taking full advantage of Oz’s lack of knowledge, “We could make Oz feel good.”
Oz’s flush deepened, and Alice nodded, “Okay. How?”
Gil hummed in idle agreement, and his hands snaked around to Oz’s front, softly pulling him into the larger man’s lap. He leaned past Oz’s shoulder, and the boy watched as Gil whispered something to Alice. He wasn’t sure he liked this-two against one wasn’t exactly fair. Alice nodded, to whatever Gil was telling her, before a rather evil smile spread across her face. She looked at Oz, who opened his mouth to demand what they were planning, but she kissed him.
It was rougher than before, much like she had kissed Gil earlier, and Oz found his brain turning to putty. He moaned, kissed back, reveling in the way her hands were on his, pulling on them. In fact, she was picking his hands up and putting them-putting-Oz tried to pull his hands away, but her grip was firm, as she guided him to the soft curves of her body. He couldn’t think, couldn’t-Oz didn’t realize Gil had been messing with the front of his shorts until he felt the release of pressure as the button was popped and his zipper was pulled down.
“Gil!” He tried to struggle, but Gil simply kissed the side of his face.
“Calm down.” His voice was low, soothing, and it rumbled against Oz’s back, “You said you were ready.”
“I-I am. You and Alice are just-”
Gil chuckled. “You can’t handle being powerless for five minutes?”
“No!”
“Not even if it feels good?”
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“Nnn! Giiiil!”
“You like that?” He murmured, pumping Oz to a slow, steady rhythm.
“Yes! Nnnaaaahhhhh . . .”
Alice was kissing him again, her hands guiding his to her chest. He wanted to pull his hands back and he didn’t, his upbringing conflicting with hormones. The hormones won when Alice moaned and Gil performed a particularly sharp tug on his member, and Oz had dissolved into putty once more. His kisses with Alice were sloppy, openmouthed and desperate and perfect. He realized his body was rocking in time to Gil’s hand, and he wondered how long he’d been doing that. Alice’s body was soft beneath his hands, and he squeezed and kneaded her chest eagerly, earning more moans and kisses from the little rabbit.
Gil was suddenly taken to nipping at Oz’s neck, which made his skin tingle in a most pleasant way. He was kneading Oz’s member, now, pumping harder, faster. Oz arched his back, as he reveled in the Gil’s rough palm against his flesh, sliding up, down, up, down-God that felt fucking good. He and Alice were emitting embarrassing noises, by now, though Oz’s cries far drowned hers. Gil wasn’t surprised, Oz had always been talkative and bubbly, so it was fitting that his master was vocal.
“Giiil! Uuuhhhnn . . . G-Gil! A-ah! Nnn! NnnaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Oz’s entire body tensed, his back arched, his hands nearly crushed Alice’s breasts, and he felt his body release, the hot liquid of his bodily fluid flooding over Gil’s hand. He relaxed into the blissful dizziness, watching as the room seemed brighter than usual as he opened his eyes, to take in a very sexy, bothered Alice straddling his legs. Gil was kissing the side of his face, again. Oz sighed, as the last or the orgasm wore off, before he turned red, and hid his face in his hands.
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“’S so embarrassing . . .”
“Haha, it’s sexy and cute.” Gil assured, withdrawing his hand from out of Oz’s shorts. Oz emitted a small sound, as Alice poked him in the stomach and grabbed his hands, placing them once again on her chest. He blushed, but continued his ministrations, kissing her softly and lazily.
“This is very disorganized.” Oz said between kisses.
“Sex is generally so, from my experience.” Gil said.
“Well . . . but there’s three of us. Nnn . . .” He tilted his head as Alice suddenly decided it was a good time to give his neck a hickey. He slid his hands up under her coat, which didn’t work too well, so he simply began unbuttoning it, “What if we took turns?”
“Turns?” Alice asked, “Like you and I do the sex thingy, a-and . . . you and Gil, and . . . me and Gil?” She asked, as she slid her jacket off, and began unbuttoning her dress shirt.
“Sure.”
“Okay . . .”
Oz had discovered the wonderful invention of a bra that unfastened in the front, and deftly undid it. Alice efficiently did away with her garments, and Oz blushed and tried not to stare too much, but found it was hard not to. Gil was watching her, too, as she leaned towards Oz again and kissed him. He moaned, and squeezed her chest again. Her skin was so soft under his, and he loved the way her body was supple and feminine and the fact that her flush spread down across her breasts.
“You get to choose who you go first with, Oz.” Gil murmured.
Oz drew back from Alice slightly, and slid his hands up from her chest to her face, cupping it gently. He looked over his shoulder at Gil, “I suppose I get to pick who gets my virginity, huh? And so does Alice.”
“What’s virginity?”
“Er . . . it’s like . . . your purity. Whoever has it should be a very special person.”
“Then I’m giving it to you.”
Oz smiled, and kissed her, “Alright. But I’d like to give mine to Gil. I hope you don’t mind . . . he’s my first ever love.”
Alice nodded, in understanding, “What do I do?”
“You can watch, I guess.” Gil said, blushing at last.
Oz turned red-he hadn’t considered the idea that this would involve display, “R-really?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” Gil assured.
Oz nodded, and separated himself from Alice. She pouted, but backed away nonetheless, and settled in for the show.
Gil smiled at Oz, “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, mon amour.”
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“What are you doing?”
(Dayum, this fic is now over 5,000 words. It's gonna be a long fill. XD)
“Your freckles are returning for the summer.” Gil leaned back, and smiled.
Oz rolled his eyes self-consciously, “I’ve never liked them . . .”
“Whaaat. But they’re adorable!”
Oz blushed, “Really?”
“Yes. I’ve always loved them.” He leaned in and kissed Oz’s fair skin again, moving down from nose to soft lips. Oz opened his mouth, and Gil surrendered, sliding his tongue inside with a low moan. Oz moaned back, his hand sliding back along Gil’s cheekbones to his curly hair. The gunman relaxed as delicate fingers slid back over his scalp, and pulled Oz closer, into his lap. Oz drew away, and blinked up at his servant.
“You have more power over me, now.” He pouted, forest-green eyes capturing Gil’s.
“No, you don’t.” He murmured, “You just need to look at me . . .”
His master blinked at him, brows furrowing. Gil smiled, and stroked one of Oz’s slender, wonderfully freckly cheekbones.
“Those lovely eyes.” He murmured, “You have no idea how much power you really have, do you?”
Oz processed this for a moment, then shook his head, that powerful green color still fixed on Gil’s face. The servant watched him, hand still running down his cheek, rhythmic, soothing, familiar. Gil seemed to be awaiting an order-he was always waiting, eternally, for the next thing Oz would say, the next surprising skill or idea he would display. He was always, always waiting for the next smile, touch, and piece of laughter from this boy who was his entire world.
“I want . . . I want you to teach me.” And Oz’s face flared red again, and Gil chuckled.
“Teach you what?”
Oz blinked for a moment, “Everything.”
It was a soft whisper, and the galaxies in Oz’s eyes told Gil that ‘everything’ meant more than simple lovemaking. The servant nodded, slowly, and pushed Oz back until he straddled the teenager, who watched him with expectancy and rapture. Gil leaned down, and kissed him slowly, meaningfully-if ever there was someone who deserved pure, complete love, it was Oz. He wondered at the hours his master had spent wondering at the rejection of his father, the death of his mother, why someone like this little boy wasn’t allowed to have a love so basic as that from his parents. So here, in this bed, he would reshape that loss with hands on Oz’s skin, unification of their flesh, soft words of assurance. Oz would not feel empty within Gil’s arms.
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Oz moaned softly, and Gil kissed him harder, before he drew away gently. His hands found Oz’s tie, and began fumbling with it. His master blushed again, before his hands moved to help Gil, and together they deftly unknotted it, and Gil smiled as he pulled it from around Oz’s neck. His master was lovely, underneath him, fair hair falling into green eyes, pale skin flushed pink, lips parted in curiosity and fascination. Gil leaned down, and kissed Oz again, as he slid the grey vest off his shoulders, from under his back.
Oz’s hands began struggling with Gil’s cravat, and he leaned back. It appeared Oz couldn’t figure it out, and Gil chuckled and helped him, never breaking their eye contact. The silk fell away easily, and Oz tossed it aside, on the growing pile of clothes beside his large bed. His slender hands ran down Gil’s chest, memorizing muscle through the thin material of his dress shirt. Gil emitted a small sound, and began unbuttoning Oz’s top. The teenager blushed again, despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly a private part of his body. The way Gil was watching him made him positively squirm-his servant had already undressed Oz in his mind.
He pulled back the white fabric, and Oz shyly curled slightly, self-conscious as Gil’s hands ran down his skin. His hand paused over Oz’s seal, his face falling as he pressed his palm into the boy’s warm chest. The heartbeat was a strong thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump under the black clock. He leaned down, and kissed Oz again, hand still pressed to his heart, and the gunman wondered how many more hours, days, weeks would tick away before there were no more.
Oz arched into him, and Gil pressed his hips down automatically. The kiss deepened, and his hands began to wander, down to Oz’s waist, up his sides, back down to his hips. Oz’s body was turning his mind hazy-it was all softly defined muscle, gently sloped curves, slender, perfect design. Oz’s hand had begun to wander, as well-he had managed to open Gil’s shirt, and his hands were exploring well-developed muscle, soft skin, the scar he had inflicted. He was curious, and his hands became braver, sliding around to Gil’s back, traveling down, down, to his bottom. Gil gasped when Oz squeezed, and he opened his eyes to find his master smirking. That little-! He should have known the shyness wouldn’t last.
“What is it?” Oz asked.
“You very well know.” Gil narrowed his eyes, “You were putting on an act!”
Oz’s mouth dropped open, “I-I was not!”
“You’re suddenly confident.”
“Because now I have a bit of knowledge~”
“You’re evi-nnn!”
Oz smiled, as he relaxed his hold, then jammed Gil’s hips once again into his pelvis. His body jolted with sensation, body electrifying at the contact. He was already becoming aroused once again, his young hormones lending him near-eternal reserves of energy. Gil flailed as Oz essentially took control, with each contact of their hips. He closed his eyes, and kissed Oz hard, pulling his hair gently, running fingers down his face. Oz moaned, and kissed back eagerly, his back arching into a lovely curve that only drove Gil madder.
“Want more?” Oz asked.
“Y-yes . . .”
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He caught the boy’s hands, and laid them flat against the bed, lacing their fingers. Oz’s face rivaled a tomato, and Gil leaned down and kissed it away, until his master’s body relaxed. He smiled as he drew away, and trailed kisses along Oz’s slender neck, down his chest. His body was perfect, beautiful, all his and Alice’s. Oz moaned and wriggled, in the most wonderful and enticing way. Gil pressed his hips hard into Oz’s causing him to gasp, before he guided his master’s hands to his waistband. Oz chickened out and tried to pull his hand back, but Gil kept it there and began to guide his fingers in undoing the button. Oz hesitated, and then slowly assumed it on his own, face brilliant vermillion.
He kept his eyes fixed on his face as he unraveled the mechanisms, and shimmied Gil’s slacks down his legs. The servant stepped out of his clothes, before he gently lowered himself to Oz’s body until warm skin touched. Oz’s eyes widened, and Gil leaned close to him, lips parted as his breathing deepened with arousal. Oz arched his back again, the move instinctive, and closed his eyes as they molded together beautifully, perfect in unison. Oz moaned, as skin slid over skin, and his body flushed, responding to the magnetism of one of his loves. Gil leaned down, and kissed Oz hard, hands moving down to squeeze his backside. Oz moaned loudly, and melted into him.
“Nnn, G-Gil! That feels . . .”
“Feels what?” He murmured against Oz’s lips.
“W-wonderful . . .” Oz pushed his hips into Gil’s, and arched his back as their members brushed, “M-more!”
“A-as you wish.”
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YOUVE GOT OZ DOWN PACKED. AND NO THERE WILL BE NO LOWER CASE. THE WAY YOU WRITE OZ IS SO UNBELIEVABLY PERFECT, IT'S NOT EVEN REAL. HOLY CRAP. AND I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO MENTION WHAT IT TAKES TO WRITE OZ WITH ALCE AND THEN OZ WITH GIL, CAUSE THAT'S A WHOLE NOTHER BALL GAME THAT ALMOST NO ONE GETS INTO.
BUT ANYWAY, I'M LIKE WOW.
AND NOW, IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE A PROMPT TO FILL, JUST FOR YOU.
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I. Love. This. FANDOM.
*ahem*
Thank you sooooo much. >.< Actually, actually, Oz is freakishly my spitting image. We have the same personality and some of the same issues so writing him is really easy for me (except I am sooooo not blond). ""XD BUT THANK YOU. I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT.
I'm assuming you're the OP. Are you the OP?
ZOMG REALLY? YOU'RE DOING MY FILL? *did not know this*
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Gil drew back, and Oz’s face fell, but he smiled in assurance, his eyes rising to Alice, who seemed to have been watching them with rapt fascination this whole time. He lifted a hand and waved it before her face, and she blinked, eyes refocusing properly, “Wh-what?”
“There should be oil of some sort in the bathroom. Could you grab it?”
She took a few moments to process what he’d said, “Why do you need that?”
Oz turned bright red under Gil again, and the servant sighed, “Just go get it.”
She glared at Gil for a moment, before she moved to slide off the bed. Gil returned his attention to Oz as the light patter of her footsteps faded, and he leaned down and kissed his master again, softly. Oz responded, his back arching, slender legs wrapping around Gil’s hips. He moaned and deepened the kiss, hips pressing forward into Oz’s. Their skin whispered together, soft moans, gasps, kisses hanging in the air above them.
Soft footsteps told them Alice was returning, and Gil looked up just as she dropped a small bottle of massage oil next to Oz, who stared at it like it was some sort of dangerous weapon. Gil laughed, and ran his fingers softly down the boy’s face, until he relaxed, and the gunman picked it up with his free hand. He drew away, until he towered over Oz, whose brilliant green eyes slowly descended Gil’s body until they stopped, and then took on the size of tea saucers. Gah, his master was so cute.
“Is . . .”
“Is what?”
“Is-is-” Oz was sure he was going to eventually pass out from the amount of blood flowing into his brain, “Is that . . . is that going to fit?”
“Er . . . we can make it fit?”
Oz emitted a small squeak, and nodded.
“It’ll hurt a bit.” Gil murmured, working the cork off the glass bottle, and then tipping it over his fingers. Oz watched warily, and Gil could visibly see his body tensing, in the stress of his abdomen and legs, “Relax.” He leaned across and set the open bottle on the nightstand, “It’ll hurt less.”
“Th-that’s not very assuring, Gil.”
In answer, his servant reached down with his clean hand and stroked Oz’s hair, “Close your eyes.”
“What.”
“Close your eyes.”
“Bu-but-”
“The more you work yourself up, the more it’ll hurt. It’s like-like getting poked with a needle.”
“Oh yes, because needles make me feel soooo endeared to you right now.”
“Just close your eyes.”
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“Relax, relax. More deep breaths.”
Oz whimpered, eyes still closed, but complied. It only ached a bit, but it felt strange and he didn’t like it. He felt something soft against his lips, and kissed Gil back, muscle memory picking up the movements automatically. He felt Gil begin to move his fingers within his body, and he tried not to shy away or withdraw. The ache increased, and he wriggled uncomfortably. Gil continued to kiss him, moving down to his cheek, his neck, and back up to his lips again. Oz could feel his muscles stretching, readjusting, and eventually relaxing. He eventually opened his eyes, and Gil drew away slightly.
“Good?” Gil asked.
“Well, it doesn’t hurt anymore, but it still feels weird, and I don-AH!”
Gil smiled, and slid his finger back again, and pushed in. Oz’s back arched once again, mouth parting in surprise. The ache had transformed into something gloriously positive and-and-hot and it felt most lovely when his servant did that. Oz emitted a low groan, and Gil struck up a slow, consistent pace. Oz promptly turned into jelly, hands scrambling at Gil’s back, legs parting further, high tenor voice producing the most wonderful sounds. Gil leaned down, and kissed him again, and Oz’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, sharp little fingernails digging into his skin.
Gil paused for a moment, and added a second finger. Oz gasped-this time it hurt, badly. He buried his face in his love’s shoulder, as Gil attempted to kiss his cheek from such an odd angle. Oz mumbled something about throbbing, as Gil scissored his fingers, trying to open his master wider. Oz whimpered again, and his servant frowned. He didn’t like to see Oz in pain, but he knew it would be much worse if he didn’t stretch Oz’s muscles out first. It was a few minutes and a lot of scratches on his neck, but Oz’s muscles eventually relaxed, and he was once again pliable with bliss in Gil’s arms.
He added his ring finger.
“AH! G-Gil . . .”
Oz felt his eyes burn with tears from pain, and Gil nuzzled him, keeping his hand still. Oz tried not to move, for fear of increasing the sharp, fiery sting that wound up from his pelvis into his stomach and back. Gil gently stroked his hair back from his face, and kissed him on the forehead, simply watching his master. Oz was taking deep, slow breaths once again, trying to keep himself calm and force his body to unwind.
The muscles relaxed, and Gil opened his hand. Oz buried his face in his hands, and emitted a small, strangled sound. Dear God, Gil hoped he wasn’t making Oz cry. His master appeared to be enduring it, however, and his resilient body appeared to be learning, readjusting faster than it had before. Oz eventually dropped his hands, his back arching, which Gil was quickly learning as a signal of Oz’s complete pleasure. He wriggled his fingers, and slid them in and out, in and out. Oz’s flesh felt superbly hot, tight, and slick around his hand, and he found himself mentally replacing it with his own member.
“Giiiil! Nnnnnn . . . aaaah! AAHH! Th-that feels so-uuuuhhn . . .”
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“You ready?” Gil asked.
Oz nodded, eyes hazy but apprehensive of more pain. Gil leaned down, and kissed him again, and slowly, slowly, pushed inside. Oz hissed, and closed his eyes, but he was surprised to find it didn’t hurt quite as much as he thought it would-all the prepping Gil had done had paid off. He opened his eyes, lips parted as he realized Gil was within him, their flesh was fusing into each other, and his breath quickened at the thought.
He looked up at Gil, and slowly nodded, “More.”
Gil complied, sliding in the rest of the way, mind going numb at the sheer ecstasy of being inside Oz. The hot muscles hugged every curve and dip, and everything was slippery from the oil. Oz was whimpering again, and the servant kissed him, hard, trying to keep control of himself. Oz kissed back, and wriggled his hips, and it took Gil a moment to realize Oz was whimpering from lack of movement, not pain.
Gil slowly slid out, and both boys both shivered with tingles and pleasure, before he thrust back in, deep.
“GIL! G-God . . . uaaaaah! AAHHNN!”
Oz dug at Gil’s back, body gyrating in time to Gil’s thrusts, which quickly spun out of control. Between the sensation of Oz’s body around his own and his lovely, aroused voice, he found he was unable to help himself. Oz was already dizzy with pleasure, each thrust spinning his balance and causing his body to tense and shiver. Heat pooled on his insides and crawled up his inner walls and his member, pressure and some pleasant ache building in pressure. There was a certain spot Gil kept hitting that made his vision go white every time, and the small part of his brain that could still form proper thoughts beyond ecstatic swear words reasoned that this was the male g-spot, the prostate.
Gil increased the pace, pounding faster, faster, and harder, until Oz’s voice was drowning his low groans and gasps, and they were both slippery with sweat and their limbs were aching from physical effort. Gil drew back for more leverage, his hand sliding down to Oz’s side to grab his hips. He arched low over his master, and plunged in as fast and deep as he could, until his ears buzzed and he wasn’t breathing anymore.
“Oz, Oz, Oz, OZ, AH!”
“GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL AAAAAHHHHHHH!”
They orgasmed together, bodies tensing, throats rubbed raw. Oz inhaled wildly and his vision went black for a moment, before his brain recovered and he flopped back against his comforter, sucking in giant clumps of air. Gil was laying over him, still encased inside, though he no longer filled Oz. The young Vessalius blinked, and tried to lift an arm to stroke Gil’s hair, but he was too tired. Gil scooted himself up, which was made easy by their wet skin, and kissed Oz gently, his breath fluttering his master’s bangs as with each strong exhale. They stayed that way for a bit, before their heart rates and limbs recovered, and Gil was able to pull out and push himself off of Oz.
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