Sorry for the wait everyone, my health hasn't been so good, among other things. Missed you guys so much. Thanks for being patience.

Warning: Lemon - BoyxBoy

XXXLearning Life and DeathXXX

The change was gradual and inconsistent. Like walking a tightrope. A step forward that was too quick could mean stagnation in progress -because that's when you pause… and take a step back for balance. And standing still was an option out of fear of falling off. But even standing still could only be maintained for so long.

That was the only way to describe how Oz was currently doing – he was standing still.

Three months had past since Jack had receded and Oz was given back ownership over his own body. But the boy just wasn't the same. For the first two months his memory was extremely foggy, his smile was limited, and his gaze was lost.

"Gil…what day is it?"

"Its Friday."

"…Its Friday?"

"umhm."

"…Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure,"

"Gil?"

"Hm?"

"I thought yesterday was Friday?"

"What happened to that calendars I brought you to help you mark off the days?"

"…"

"Well?"

"How do I know if the calendars right?"

Each day for the first few months, hours were spent reorienting him. And it proved to be challenging and necessary. He'd ask Gilbert the same question several times in the same hour, and refuse to leave the west wing even though Gilbert encouraged him to. Gilbert would entice him with the promise of cakes and fun outings…but the blond would not budge from that room. Not to mention that he absolutely hated when Gilbert would leave him alone for more than a few minutes.

Oz looked confused when Oscar would come and visit him. He wouldn't speak when Martha would come upstairs and say good morning. And the one week when Ada was over during her winter vacation he seemed threatened by her presence, clinging to Gilbert possessively as the girl sat quietly in the corner of the room. Gilbert could tell she was trying her best not to pity her older brother state of mind, or take it personal when he requested that she leave.

It almost wasn't a surprise that it was the same week he and Gilbert started kissing deeply again.

"We use to do this all of the time, didn't we?"

"We did…"

"Then why does it feel so new to me?"

It was like starting from scratch with him. Once they reached deep kisses again the action seemed to fascinate Oz beyond reason. It was like he had forgotten that they ever kissed that way before. He would pull away from Gilbert's lips suddenly and Oz would look into his eyes and ask for another one. It was the only time traces of a real smile would reach his lips.

By the third and current month his memory was finally returned but Oz was still completely reclusive and provided little explanation as to why. He still smiled too little, and refused to leave his room in the west wing. Gilbert tended to him daily, bringing the boy books to read and meals to eat. Sometimes though, he would just stare out the window (they were no longer boarded up) for long periods of the day, never taking Gilbert up on his offers to bring him outside.

Honestly, it was like he was afraid to start living again. As if he didn't trust that he would be able to live to the extent that he wanted.

It didn't help that the seal had a quarter left on it, and although Gilbert wasn't as worried as he should have been he knew Oz was even more disillusioned about what the future would hold…perhaps believing he didn't have a future.

XXX

It had been a long night indeed. Oz was unusually restless and distrusting when it came time for them to turn in. He didn't like waking up to see a missing Gilbert and that was for sure. So they lay in bed for two hours in straight silence, sometimes kissing softly but otherwise "trying" to get sleep. Gilbert would listen patiently for the blonds breaths to transition to sleeping sighs, but every time he would open one gold eye to check to see if the boy had made his way to dreamland Oz would be looking back at him warily. He embraced him, hoping it would help the boy feel secure enough to fall asleep. And after an hour those steady breaths finally came and Gilbert vowed to give it a few more assuring minutes before he gently unwrapped his arms and left the boy asleep on the bed in the west wing.

Currently, he was sitting in the kitchen downing a glass of wine. Unfortunately, he had turned back to heavy drinking soon after Break had gone into hiding. Although his stress level was minimal, it came down to a crude and primitive fact: he was a man with urges….and the one urge he wanted to act on he was not ready to push Oz into it any time soon. To him, the boy just wasn't ready for that yet.

So for now, deep kisses and alcoholic beverages worked just fine.

Not to his surprise Oscar was still awake, roaming around the house. When the man came in the kitchen he looked worn and the smile he feigned made Gilbert's stomach turn.

The blond haired man hadn't been himself since he took an indefinite leave from Pandora. These days, he seemed to walk around with a million things on his mind. And his once resounding laugher quickly became a scarce concept. Even a dry chuckle was uncommon.

One thing that Gilbert hadn't anticipated was Oscar becoming overly involved with Oz's recovery. He wanted to be with Oz more and more as of late. It was obvious he didn't believe Oz had much time left, and even more evident that his time with the quiet boy was unfulfilling for him - mostly because Oz was simply disinterested in extensive interaction.

Oscar pulled out the seat across from him, a sigh coming out like a man having a hard time holding up a heavy heart, "Mind if I join you?"

Gilbert shook his head and nodded toward the wine bottle, "Would you like a glass?"

"No thanks…" he gave a grim flat smile, "I'm trying to cut back."

Gilbert shrugged with indifference and poured himself another, drinking it down like it was cold water hitting a parched throat. He was proud of himself; his tolerance had increased to the point that it took a lot more to get him drunk than when he was drinking less frequently.

"I was thinking…maybe you ought to go out for a while, catch a break. I have no problem staying with Oz for a few hours."

"Thanks for offering," he said between two sips, "But I'm all set."

"He isn't going to mind if you leave him here for a few days."

Gilbert raised a brow, "First a few hours and now a few days…that's a big jump."

Oscar sat back and studied him, "Alright, I'll just come out and say it then. I think you're doing Oz a disservice by allowing him to cling to you like this. Oz was never this dependent before…he needs to relearn how to do things for himself."

Gilbert filled his glass again, "Do you think that if I'm not here you can make more progress with him? You think he'll open up to you and just jump back into his old self?"

"It's not as silly of an idea when you think about it. He's barely changed since Jack backed down. Call me crazy, but breaking his routine may be good for him so he can learn to cope again. I think you might be getting in the way of that."

"He needs to go at his own pace. I'm not going to rush him to do things he doesn't feel ready for."

"Well, I disagree. The boy needs a jumpstart, a good kick in the pants. The only way to do that is to stop tip-toeing around him…. you're spoiling him, Gilbert."

"I'm not spoiling him."

"You are. And I'm starting to think you don't want him to recover…"

Gilbert's gaze turned agitated and disbelieving, "Do you even hear what you're saying? He barely smiles, he's forgotten how to laugh…those are the two main things I miss most about him. Why would I prevent those things from coming back?"

"You're forgetting something ,though?"

"What?"

"I know that you also enjoy serving him. And Oz has never been a traditional master to you. This is the first time that he's relied on you like this. Wait -Why are you walking away from me?"

"Because you're starting to sound like Break. Irrational and unreasonable."

"You're leaving me little choice then. As Oz's elder…. I'm ordering you to leave the house for a few days."

"You can't be serious, Oscar."

"I am," Oscar sighed as he looked down at his feet, "I need to do what's best for both of you. And I hate to do it this way…really I do."

"Why are you asking this of me? You know I could never leave him like this."

"I'm not asking you anymore. Its an order," Oscar reached into his pocket and retrieved a few envelopes. "Here, this is the voucher for a hotel in town. I made the arrangements so that you'll have a comfortable stay there." He held them out to Gilbert and the man took a few long seconds to take them.

"Let me say goodbye to him first."

Oscar rubbed his temples, "Please don't... It will just make him upset."

Out of nowhere, Martha appeared holding a small bag and Gilbert's coat and hat. She held it out to him.

"I had Martha pack up some of your clothes and things to save you the trouble,"

"So you're really serious about this then?" he ask bitterly, tone low.

Oscar responded confidently, no regret in his voice, "I am."

Silently, Gilbert snatched the bag and put on his coat and hat. Both Martha and Oscar followed him to the entrance hall and watched him leave the house in a furry.

Oscar quickly when to the door to call after him, the raven stopped walking down the steps and looked back at the man though the frosty darkness, "The second envelope came in the mail today. It's from Break…I got one too. Listen, this isn't a permanent arrangement, Gilbert. I wouldn't try to keep you two separated under any other circumstance. Try not to be too upset with me."

It was too late for that, the damage was done and Gilbert was already mounting his horse and storming off into the snowy darkness by the time Martha could join Oscar outside and watch the raven leave.

XXX

The tavern was almost empty that night. And it was cold in there even with the fireplace that was glowing in the corner. A few patrons sat alone next to the windows, looking like they had each seen better days. Gilbert downed what was in his shot glass, before putting a few more bills on the counter for another one. The bartender seemed reluctant to pour him any more drinks but it couldn't be helped. Gilbert was a customer and the man needed to provide a service. He wasn't buying the man's advice or his judgment because if he wanted those things he would have asked.

He toyed with the edges of the letter that Break had sent to him. Folding the corners and then unfolding them. The envelope was fancy and he turned it over so he could dig his nail into the red wax and chip away at the pieces. When his third drink came, he threw his head back and downed it. His nostrils flared from the burn crawling back up his throat.

He pushed the envelope away from him, eyeing it for a moment. After a second he grabbed it up reluctantly and slid his index finger between the fold and broke the red seal (or rather, what was left of it).

Gilbert,

It certainly has been a long time, hasn't it? I can't say that I haven't missed our little chitchats. It still feels a bit strange knowing that I can't just come over and harass you whenever I please. Those were good times, I quite miss them.

Anyway, I'm writing to you for two reasons. The first is that I would like to invite you to Alice's Baby Shower. Miss Sharon was rather disappointed that I was willing to forgo having a party for her because of safety reasons – after all, you can never be too careful. But now that Alice has successfully reached her sixth month I decided to reconsider. Of course the party will be highly exclusive, I'm only inviting particular people.

It terms of what to do about Oz…I'm unsure what state of mind he is currently in. (By the way, I do hope Jack has calmed down a bit}. But I'll leave this part up to your discretion. As I've said in the past I do trust your judgment.

If Oz seems stable and positive then I don't see the harm in allowing him to come with you. I wouldn't want to exclude him. He is the one I have to thank for bringing Alice out of the Abyss in the first place.

Ms. Sharon will be contacting you shortly to arrange your transportation if you do decide to attended.

Hope to see you there.

-X. Break

He read the letter over one more time before folding it up and putting it back in the envelope. He would take the matter up with Oz later, now wasn't the time to think about it. After a blurry look around the tavern the raven proceeded to rest his head on the counter. His empty shot glass was still gripped in one hand, while his head was buried in the crook of his arm. He closed his reddish eyes, exhausted and irritated. And the alcohol level in his blood was most certainly getting to be too much.

"I almost mistook you for a regular. You fit right in with the depressed atmosphere."

Gilbert lifted his head and looked over. He should have been more surprised by who it was that was sitting next to him, but he was too drunk to react that way.

"hm... You don't look too happy yourself…." he said to the fortuneteller who was now receiving a drink from the bartender.

"A place like this starts taking a toll on you after a while. It makes you wonder what came first; is it the atmosphere that makes people depressed or is it that the people who come here just aren't the happiest people?"

Gilbert leaned his face on his palm and said nothing to the man's comment. He let his eyes drift away as he observed the patrons again.

"How's that master of yours?"

"….He's fine now," No thanks to the Ministry you sent us to Gilbert thought bitterly.

"You know...I took a trip to Perretta recently. I heard about some pretty awful things that happened there. Ironically, they all happened a little while after I met you."

It was then that his attention was taken; he sat up a bit straighter on the stool and spoke quietly, he knew where this was going.

"What do you want?"

"There's a big price on your head for what you did back there. They're offering quite a bit for someone to give them the right information. It's a lot of money, enough to get me out that booth and into a home of my own. So let's strike a deal…match the amount they're offering and I'll forget I saw you tonight."

Gilbert licked his lips nervously, "Give me sometime to think about it."

"There's not much time left for you. The authorities are closing in on this town. And there are sketches of you in every store just beyond the boundaries of this city. Murder isn't the only thing they have on you. Property destruction, robberies in various cities, assault…you'll be going away for a long time if they catch you."

Gilbert snapped his head in the man's direction, "I said give me sometime to think about it."

"Fine. You have forty-eight hours. Meet me here two nights from now. If you don't show up I'm going straight to the police…Mr… err, ah…Nightray, isn't it?" The man smiled and left Gilbert at the bar.

The raven felt his hands trembling and when he spotted the bartender coming toward him again he called out to the man, voice on edge "Excuse me…I'll have another, please. No ice this time."

XXX

"It's for his own good, Martha. He'll come out eventually."

"But what if he doesn't? We can't just let him starve up there."

"It's only ten in the morning. Let him wake up and come down on his own. When he realizes Gilbert won't be up there with his breakfast he'll get hungry enough to come in the kitchen and get some food."

And that's exactly how it happened.

An hour later, a wary looking blond loomed near the kitchen door, peeking in at first like a child secretly watching their parents fight through the crack in the doorway. But there was no fight in the kitchen, only Oscar who was mustering up all the jolly reserve he had and bringing it out in the most authentic way he could.

"Morning! It's good to see you up and about," he said to the green eyes that were still on the other side of the door.

Oz hesitantly walked into the kitchen. He didn't speak as he walked past Oscar and peeked in the pantry, when he reemerged he looked around again.

"Where's Gil?"

"I'm not sure, actually. Do you want some breakfast, it's still hot!"

The boy looked at him for a long time, like he had blood on his hands, and Oscar had the oddest inclination to look away from him.

"Who made it?"

Oscar pulled out a chair for Oz to sit in, "I did! Surprised? You didn't know I could cook did you haha! Hey now, just a minute. Where are you running off to?"

The boy was going to completely disregard him and leave, but he was courteous enough to answer the question.

"I'm going to find Gil, maybe he's sick."

Oscar couldn't control the serious shift in his tone, his words came out with a darkness he had been hiding "He isn't here, Oz."

Oz blinked at him with confusion, "You just told me you don't know where he is."

"I don't. But I do know he isn't here. Gilbert…needed some time off. I'm sure he'll be back soon. But in the meantime-"

"Why didn't he tell me that…"

"Does he have to?" Oscar challenged him; "Gilbert has worked hard to take care of you for all these months…he's entitled to a break sometimes."

Green eyes filled with guilt, voice unbalanced as he struggled with Oscar's comment, "Is that what he told you, that he's sick of me…that I worked him too hard?" The words belonged to someone who was truly winded, someone beyond discouraged.

"If I knew he felt that way….I wouldn't have…"

"Oz wait, he didn't-" It was too late. The boy left the kitchen and was half way back to the west wing.

Oscar ruffled his hands through his hair in frustration. He had not prepared for this the way he should have. He thought this was going to be a cinch. Oz would wake up, ask about Gilbert, and perhaps be a tad dismayed but still eat breakfast and feel better right after he had some food in his stomach. Then he would suggest taking him out to go ice fishing or to do something fun and the boy would not have had a panic attack in the middle of the kitchen.

He thought deeply, he'd have to switch tactics soon.

XXX

Upon waking, he turned over stiffly while his dry mouth struggled to swallow. Pushing himself up, he looked around the room he was in. Apparently, his days of "bar-blackouts" weren't really over. He could only foggily remember how he ended up in a room above the tavern. His head was pounding as if a drum-line was behind his eyes. And his face felt glazed with a thin sheet of oil.

Why couldn't it all have been a bad dream?

Out of habit his first action was to check his wallet to make sure he wasn't mugged between the moments he passed out to the time he ended up in this bed.

All was well with his money and he was proud to know that although he was intoxicated that night he was still functional enough to pay for his room. Not to mention that his gun was still in place and fully loaded.

It was late afternoon by the time he rolled off that bed. It was shameful, really. The way he slept…and slept, as if this was a vacation. It wasn't a vacation - it was a punishment. He snorted as he drank the cool water in the glass beside the bed.

After he bathed he made his way to the lobby, waiting patiently for the man in the stall to get off the phone. After five minutes, the man emerged and Gilbert replaced him, sighing as he dialed the number. He was disappointed when Oscar picked up the line-he was hoping to get Martha instead.

His voice came out gruff, "Let me speak to Oz."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

Gilbert looked up to the ceiling almost mumbling, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"You had six months to try it your way, its only fair to let me try my method."

"I'm not disputing that anymore, I just want to hear his voice."

"He's fine, Gilbert. Trust me."

The raven hung up the phone with a strange urge to smash it. Why was this so infuriating, why was he caught in a situation like this? More than anything, at least hearing the boy's voice would have earned him some relief from his worries, give him vigor to get through this next few days and maybe enough strength to come up with some alternative plan considering the new threat against him.

But no, nothing ever worked out the way he wanted it to.

XXX

He had spent the majority of the day in front of the window, a book he wasn't really reading atop his lap and his blond hair resting against the cold glass. The sun was setting and he was aware of how pathetic he must have looked, but that was hardly his main concern. Then again, maybe looking pathetic was why he was in this current malaise - it was most likely the reason Gilbert had finally had enough of him.

That couldn't have been the only reason of course. If Oz had the energy he could probably make a long list of reasons why the man would decide to up and go…but to where and for how long?

Oscar had said "he'll be back soon" was soon tonight, tomorrow, three weeks from now? It was bad enough that "soon" was a contextual word. What was soon to Oscar could be akin to a lifetime for Oz, and he already felt like a lifetime had passed by when he was trapped into his own numb consciousness for all those months.

The thought of going back to that mind trap sent a shiver through him. It was worst than a nightmare. And debatably, it was worst than the short time he spent in the Abyss. The difference between the time he was in the Abyss and the times Jack took over mostly came down to this: in the Abyss he had access to his own body, he could control his actions, think for himself, and his memory and emotions were left intact.

But when Jack took over, it was like being caught in an empty gray space, where no thoughts or memories wanted to travel. He had no awareness of his physical body anymore, no physical sensations, and he couldn't sense temperature or time passage. He couldn't hold onto anything there…

Over time, all that was left was the mild knowledge of his continued existence, but nothing more. He had no purpose there. It seemed to happen in a certain order too. First his memories faded into the gray, then his thoughts followed them. At some point he was left with feelings that he couldn't even put a name to…that's until those left him as well.

He never really explained it to anyone before…it was far too hard to describe. But he would try his best to explain to Gilbert if that meant that the man could finally understand why he clung to him for so long, why he was unable to leave the room in the west wing….and why he was so afraid of being alone all the time.

The brief times that Jack gave him back his body, he always awoke feeling estranged and confused. The process all but degenerated his mental faculties. And by the time Jack seemed to back off Oz distrusted him. He knew that the moment he got use to living freely again Jack could take it all away from him. He spent months asking himself what the point was, especially since his seal was almost gone. The realization helped him lose his motive and drive to get up everyday. He was going to die soon enough…and there was no use pretending that he wasn't.

A knock at the door caused him to lift his head from the window. Maybe Gilbert came back after all.

"Can I come in?"

The boy frowned, "…yeah…" Oz said, resting his head against the window again when he knew that it was just Oscar.

"Still moping around, I see. It won't do you any good, you know."

"…"

"I have something that might cheer you up." Those words barely piqued any of Oz's interest but he still turned to acknowledge him anyway. Oscar walked over and handed him a cloth bag and the boy looked inside of it while the man sat on the end of the bed.

"Recognize any of it?" he asked.

The first object that he retrieved from the bag was a brown bear. As he held it in his hands he felt his mouth open to speak but no words came out. Images poured into his mind, like water into a glass. He saw memories of a day where he and Gilbert had a whole town rooting for them, giving them cheerful blessings even if they were misguided and birth from misunderstanding.

He saw a band playing music and could practically feel Gilbert's lips on his again when the melody in his head reached its climax. He closed his eyes and held the bear to his chest for a moment before he put it on his lap and dug further into the bag. His playing cards were there. The stack felt like an artifact from an earlier time, something that was forgotten …a symbol of better days. And of course the pocket watch was there. He was sure whoever found it would keep it - but there it was in his hand still playing music. Everything in his hand left him yearning deeply. He yearned for his life back, for the air and the wind and the sights and sounds that lie beyond the walls of his home…. he yearned for Gilbert.

"How did you get all of this?" Oz asked in a whisper.

"A boy gave it to me when I went to the ministry…he said it was important to you."

Oz nodded eagerly in agreement. All the stuff was important, and Billy must have kept it safe for him. Oz remembered silently struggling to come to terms with the idea that he would never see any of it again.

"I was going to give it to you sooner, but I wanted Jack to have subsided first. I don't think he would have appreciated any of it as much as you do anyway," the man smiled and gave a slight wink. This caused a faint smile to reach the boy's lips as he looked back at the bear in his lap, beginning to play with its fake eyes.

"Who gave you the bear?"

"Gil won it for me when we were on our way to the Ministry," His voice got quiet, contemplative "…It was the only fun day we spent together that whole trip."

The man chuckled lightly, genuinely, "I'm sure you'll have plenty more fun days ahead of you," his voice shifted to light but a bit firmer with his next statement. "But you have to be willing to make those days happen again. Understand?"

Oz nodded and wiped his eyes before they had a chance to leak anymore than they were. He had made a resolution in that moment. After Oscar departed he sat in the window for a few more minutes before he got up. He looked around the room for a moment suddenly feeling like the biggest fool in the world for willingly spending so much unnecessary time in the room. He turned out the oil lamp with a sigh and went to the door, brown bear against his chest and cloth bag in his hand.

He opened the door and headed to his real room. For the first time in months he was going to leave the house that night. He didn't know it at the time, but he would never return to that room in the west wing again….not for a number of years.

XXX

"Back again?"

"What's your point?" Gilbert grumbled.

"No point, just an observation. Can you try not to fall asleep, we had a hell of a time getting you out of here last night."

"Can we forgo the lecture? I'm not here for that."

"Fine, what are you having?"

"Brandy…on the rocks,"

The bartender huffed, "Coming right up"

Gilbert was irritated and his tension was high. He had spent the day pacing the floor at the hotel, and periodically listening to people's muffled voices coming through the thin walls. For Gilbert, the blackmail issue wasn't about the money…he could find the money.

It was the fact that even if he paid the man to keep quiet there was no way he could ensure that he would. If the man was really hard up for cash he would have went to the cops right away. But if he were a smart man, (which Gilbert didn't doubt that he was) the man would allow Gilbert to pay him off and double his profits by still telling the police and getting the original reward money as well. There was also the chance that there was no reward at all, and that the man happened to hear about what happened at the Ministry and made up a false story about the money.

I could always threaten him…or…

He was running out of options. Truly, he wanted to settle this in the cleanest way possible. Perhaps if he explained to the fortuneteller why he did what he did he would take pity and leave Gilbert alone. But how realistic was that? That day he had spent hours going over scenario after scenario about how to get out of this, and by the time he made his way back to the tavern he had wasted the day with indecision and a desire to only do one thing… get Oz and leave the town for good. He lit a cigarette and took a sip of his brandy. The implications were extreme; if he went to prison…he would never hold the blond in his arms again. Who would take care of his lover?

His heart raced at the thought, and paranoia took over him as he took another sip of his drink and looked around again. Would the phony fortuneteller show up? He still had one more day to struggle with this decision before the man was due to come looking for him. But that didn't mean he wouldn't show up unannounced just to reinforce his presence and purpose.

An hour later he heard the bell jingle above the door. Gilbert closed his eyes preparing his mind so he could face the man. He was even closing in on the idea of resorting to begging the more he considered the reality of him being taken from the boy…

"Gil…"

Suddenly, Gilbert's brow knitted, and slowly he turned around in his seat. A snowy, short, green-eye beauty stared at him, looking lost and full of indecision.

"Oz…" he felt dumbfounded, putting his drink down and approaching him, "What are you…how did you…" he struggled with his words.

"I had the driver take me to a few taverns in the area. I figured you might be at one of them" the blond looked away, now trembling slightly, "I came because…I want to apologize. I wanted to tell you that if you came home that I wouldn't be bothersome." He looked back at Gilbert when he spoke, "But I still can't…I can't do this without you."

In the dim tavern full of brusque men with emotions ranging from down-and-out to high-strung and hostile, Oz looked more vulnerable then he had ever seen him. And he didn't care that people were watching him hold the trembling teen against him.

"I promise I won't get in your way anymore. I'll do everything on my own…I won't bother you if you want space, just please…"

Gilbert hushed him, "I didn't leave because of any of that. I wouldn't leave you by choice."

"Then why…"

"Let me take you back home first, I'll explain then," he said, as he rubbed the boy's shoulders, the boy was beyond cold. "You're freezing," he mumbled to him. The boy was shivering uncontrollably and was dressed inappropriately for the cold snowy weather.

"I won't go back home unless you'll stay."

Gilbert frowned, "…Oz."

Gilbert glanced around the room, suddenly concerned that the fortuneteller was hiding in the corner somewhere. Possibly, if the man saw Oz he would double the consequence for deciding not to pay him. Gilbert reached into his pocket and took out a few bills. Ignoring the looks he got from men who looked on with interest as if they were watching a drama play. He placed the money on the counter before guiding Oz to the back door that would lead to the hotel lobby.

-:::::-

He left Oz sitting on the hotel bed, blankets hauled over his shoulders. The boy's lips were the color of the palest blue sky, and so were his nails. The bed shook as Oz sat atop it shivering violently in the small room. When Gilbert called him into the bathroom, he lowered at the way the blond's teeth refused to stop chattering.

"You're underdressed for this weather," the raven noted as he turned off the tub faucet, "Another minute out there and you would have gotten frostbite."

"I didn't think it would be so cold tonight,"

Gilbert looked him over again, still amazed to see the boy operating in another setting besides the west wing. He approached the boy and started unbuttoning his thin sweater. No words were exchanged between them as Oz undressed, but he did hesitate before immersing himself in the hot bath water.

"…Will you bathe with me?"

The request was simple enough, but Gilbert was still shocked by it. It took Oz to state those words for Gilbert to realize that up until now he had not actually shared the same tub as his master. On one hand he was surprised that he had yet to do something like that with him, but on the other hand he understood that circumstances that they had gone through didn't exactly put them in situation where Gilbert would think to do that.

He felt the blood swarming in his cheeks and then spread to his ears. He was on the verge of making up an excuse, mentioning the "inappropriateness" of something like that. But it would have all been lies, because frankly he just couldn't trust himself with Oz anymore-at least not in an intimate context. Six sex-less months had passed since their last encounter and Gilbert couldn't promise that he could keep up with that spotless record if presented an innocent opportunity like that.

He must have taken too long to answer because Oz walked over to him and returned the previous favor. Unfastening Gilbert's belt, un-tucking his shirt, releasing all his buttons. All the while, Gilbert felt something in him begin to unhinge itself, like a loose spring slowly uncoiling in cold heat. By the time Oz had loosened everything Gilbert responded in kind by removing his clothing. He had just finished removing his under garments by the time his eyes watched pale skin sink into the steaming water in front of him. And he worked hard not to expose his semi-hard arousal. Feeling pitiful that his body was reacting to something so simple.

At first he sat awkwardly in the farthest corner of the bathtub, keeping his eyes and hands to himself. He could hear Oz washing up slowly beside him, the smell of soap hit his nose and the glimpse of pale flesh was just beyond his peripheral vision. The knowledge of the naked boy beside him was making the hardness he was experiencing under the water become more intense and he quickly took a cloth and lathered it with his own soap so he could hurry and finish washing himself.

The quicker he was clean the quicker he could leave the tub.

-:::::-

"Umm…Gil? Can you help me?"

Oz watched Gilbert pause and reluctantly look over at him, "With what?"

Shyly, Oz gestured toward his back. Another few seconds past before Gilbert scooted over toward him, taking Oz by the hips and repositioning him.

He sat with his back facing the man. He could practically feel the deep hesitation in Gilbert's soft touch. But it was hard to focus on that as the warm water washed over his back and the soapsuds slipped down his spine. After a few lovely minutes the man abandoned the soap and cloth and was using his hands, massaging his back and neck, running his long fingers through his wet blond hair. He didn't realize he was making noises of approval until the man took it a step further, beginning to kiss the nape of his neck and down his shoulders. Soon, Oz wanted his lips instead and he turned around to claim them.

Gilbert kissed him slow and long, wet hands gently holding on either side of Oz's face while Oz began wrapping his arms around his neck. The man only broke the kiss to catch his breath and mumble out sweet words that made Oz's heart flutter and his skin flush over. The man pulled the plug on the tub so that the water would go down.

Oz was caught off guard. Before he knew it Gilbert had slipped between his legs and used his forearm to lift Oz half way out of the warm water. He gently propped Oz up against the back end of the tub, spreading the blond's legs so that they were hanging over either side of the lip of the bathtub. The sound of the water slurping down the drain mimicked the sounds of Gilbert slurping up the water on his stomach and wet thighs. And Oz could hardly contain himself any longer. With the feelings that were flowing through him, he wondered how he could have allowed himself to become so detached to the point that he forgot what it felt like to have Gilbert cater to him in such ways.

He felt those strong hands supporting his back as his mouth worked him over. Gilbert licked and lapped at everything that was available to him- from the spaces below his small sac, to the creases between his legs. He was generous with every wide stroke of his tongue and even more lavish with the occasional grip of his right hand on his arousal. Finally, through hazy eyes he watched Gilbert devour him hungrily, his length disappearing into his lover's hot mouth like an icicle in boing water. Oz hissed at the familiar sensation as black bangs stuck to Gilbert's forehead and dripped water onto his stomach before his head found a steady rhythm to follow.

Oz was having a hard time bracing himself, and he hesitantly let his shaking hands creep their way into Gilbert's wet smooth hair. He felt all the heat in his body pulsating and pooling toward the surface of his skin. Soon, Gilbert's pace began to vary and he could tell that the man couldn't decided whether to savor the feeling of Oz in his mouth, thus going slow; or to feast on him fast and greedily like a starved man at personal banquet. Either way, Oz would be willing to let Gilbert do whatever he wanted however he wanted - just as long as the man was pleasing himself in the process.

He couldn't hold out much longer, he tried to wiggle his way away from Gilbert's mouth as to not surprise the raven when his body decided to release. He had done such things in the past but he had promised himself to be more self-aware next time. But Gilbert sensed this, tightening his hold on Oz's backside and holding him in place. That action alone was enough to send the boy over the edge; he could hear his own cries of pleasure echoing off the tile walls. And the blazing eruption caused his whole body to convulse in Gilbert's hold.

He bit his bottom lip, trying not to whimper so loudly as his servant continued to lightly extract the rest of what was left in him.

Gilbert gave him very little time to recover before he used his wet fingers to enter the boy's small entrance and begin to loosen him up. Oz wrapped his arms around the man, burying his face in Gilbert's shoulder, as Gilbert continued to bury his fingers in him. And when the man whispered for him to wrap his legs around him, the blond obeyed wantonly, feeling that familiar stirring awaken in him again when the man brushed past that hot point in his depths.

He wanted more of those skilled fingers, but Gilbert's wants were greater it seemed. Oz yelped a bit when Gilbert withdrew the digits and he felt his whole body being lifted from the now empty tub. He clung to the man more tightly when he realized Gilbert was stepping out of the tub and heading to the wall.

Gently, the man pressed Oz's small back against the slippery wall. He secured his hold under the blond's thighs with his slick manhood already poking at his entrance. Oz tried to relax himself, excitement causing his heart to pound hard in his chest.

"Gil…Don't hold back on anything."

The man swallowed and nodded, beginning to kiss the now peach lips and lower Oz onto himself.

-:::::-

How he missed that beautiful heat, the sound of Oz moaning in his ear, and the touch of his soft hands, the feeling of his legs wrapped around him. The tightness. He wanted to go slow, truly he did. He wanted to make love to the boy and not be an unrestrained animal about it. But the primitiveness in him had his body slamming into the boy and he couldn't seem to stop himself. His arms did not tire as he held Oz up, and although his rhythm was relentless he did try his best not to hurt the boy's back as he took him strong and deep against the wall. In this position, he was able to take quick breaks so that he could take the blond's nipples into his mouth and savor the taste. He loved the image of Oz arching off the wall and the erotic feeling of sliding between those beautiful thighs and entering him in the deepest way possible.

The sound of his name rolling off of that sweet tongue signaled to him that Oz was getting closer to his next peak. The boy was quaking against the wall and when the blond's seed spilled hotly between them, he felt Oz's leg's trembling in his hands.

Soon, he was following after him, and after a few more long deep thrusts he spilled himself into Oz's waiting depths hearing some of the drops fall to the floor.

He didn't pull out of him right away; instead, he turned them around so that his back was against the wall. Slowly, he let his weak knees lower them to the floor so that Oz was facing him, and siting on his lap. They were both left panting hard as Oz lay against him, and the quivering of his slippery insides was causing Gilbert to harden again. Another firm clench of the boy's walls and Gilbert couldn't take it anymore. He sucked in air between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut…struggling to get out words.

"O-Oz, I-"

He felt soft lips connect to his, and he returned the lazy kiss hearing Oz speak against his lips, "Again?" Oz asked breathily.

Gilbert blushed into the kiss, afraid of saying yes. But he didn't have to. Oz set to work deeply grinding down onto Gilbert's reawakened manhood. The man groaned throwing his head back against the wall. He rubbed his palms against those sinful hips and he knew their night together was going to be long, amazing, and something that he was in dire need of…

XXX

Hours later, he was still awake. He rested his head on his fist as he lay on his side beside the boy and watched him sleep. He moved his hands through slightly damp blond hair, admiring each of his soft angelic features. It felt good, watching him sleep like that. It was a beautiful and peaceful moment. And he knew that he could not picture a life where he was robbed of having all of what was laying beside him.

Thoughts moved through Gilbert's mind and he finally made his decision.

It all became crystal clear and he felt silly that he even struggled to make a decision like that in the first place.

He placed a long soft kiss in the boy's hair before he got off the bed and got dressed.

Quietly, he checked the bullets in his gun. Counting them slowly - one. two. three. four…five…six.

He only needed one, though.

He put on his gloves and before he could put on his coat the voice on the bed called to him.

"Gil?"

He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, "Go to sleep, I'll be back before you wake up."

"Where are you going?"

"…I have to take care of something,"

"What time is it?"

"Three thirty,"

The boy eyed him with new worry, trying to sit up in bed; he looked Gilbert over and noticed the gun on his hip.

Slowly, the blond shook his head in resistance, "Come back to bed with me, whatever it is… it can wait 'till morning."

Gilbert sighed through his nose and leaned over to firmly kiss the space between those green eyes, "It can't wait 'till morning," he whispered.

"You're making me nervous, tell me what's wrong."

"Everything's fine. I need to run a quick errand. I'll be back before sunrise," he landed one last kiss on those fretting peach lips. Then he got up and put on his coat, swiping the room keys off the nightstand. He left almost soundlessly, leaving an anxious blond lying confused on the hotel bed.

Thanks for reading! Sorry its such a long chapter. Trying to keep this story under 30 chapters but not sure its gonna work out that way. We still have a little ways to go. Next chapter's half ways done and the wait shouldn't be nearly as long.

-Rage