Title: Porcelain Lords and Veiled Miscreants

Summary: Oz/Alois. The Vessalius heir grows bored of the frivolous parties and petty intrigue expected of young nobles. Things quickly, unexpectedly change the moment he meets the prominent, young successor of the Trancy inheritance during his birthday celebration. Oneshot.

A/N: I feel like I should tell you readers that this crossover does not really include the supernatural/fantasy elements of these two fandoms. I didn't change anything necessarily, but I did leave out the demon butlers and chains, because I mainly just wanted to focus on the interaction of these two characters. With that being said, the setting is Victorian-era England, staying true to Black Butler's setting (and staying true to the style of Pandora Hearts.) Enjoy!

Warning: This is yaoi, guys. So expect M/M sex. There's also some language, but it's not throughout.

Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler II or Pandora Hearts. This is only the product of the insane workings of my peculiar mind. Have fun in my madhouse. :)

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Fireflies drifted soft and slow amidst the gardens of the imposing English estate. Nature weaved its nightly spell while the hum of soft human voices wafted from the dainty courtyard. Immaculate white walls of the manor gleamed beneath the moon's gentle caress. For all its glory, however; the faint residue of something rotten lingered. The stench of decay thrived beneath the sophisticated constraint. A scent that few would even bother to detect and only if they were paying enough heed to ignore the glamor of the evening.

The courtyard was teeming with all sorts of activity. From the light chatter dripping from young lips to the gentle clinking of decorated porcelain wares held by delicate, gloved fingers. Most of the reverberations originated from a small group of thirteen to sixteen year old renowned heirs and heiresses throughout the nation. Each well dressed in the latest refined, frilly fashion.

The small list of expected guests to the grand manor was most likely meant to make them feel exclusive—like they were the elite few selected out of several other nobles worthy enough to attend the Earl Trancy's fifteenth birthday party.

"What a silly, commonplace tactic," one whispered critically to another.

It did little to lighten the mood, it seemed, for they all wore strained smiles and the conversations were rather hushed. No more than polite strings of words forced past tight lips. The only one whose smile was loose and semi-genuine was the Earl himself, as if his party guests were truly there to voluntarily cast their attention solely on him and nothing else. If he knew better, then he was one hell of a pretender—ignoring the more likely notion that they were obligated to dutifully pay their respects to uphold the reputation of their family names.

One green-eyed blond, the sole male heir to the Vessalius household, was no different. Oz Vessalius. Like everyone else apparently (from what he had gathered) he was forced to be present for Trancy's birthday celebration. Forced to endure being put into stiff, formal clothing that irritated his skin. And forced to wear a fake smile just like everyone else. He cursed his uncle for the umpteenth time for making him attend. But deep down, he knew that it was only a somber part of his duty. Perhaps if he made a good enough impression then maybe his father might actually—

Oz cut that thought short; sudden thick emotion glazed his mind every time that man touched his thoughts. A tightness made itself known in the back of his throat and he swallowed deeply. But still… that smile endured.

So sweetly alluring.

So…empty.

Of course he was used to forged smiles, he just wasn't as used to seeing so many of them in a single enclosure. But perhaps that was just his own naivety. People were fickle. Being the master of such a façade, he was always unfathomably good at detecting it on others.

The light breeze that ruffled his golden hair was clear and crisp, like any other autumn day. It surrounded them, chilling their skin and rustling their lavish, expensive attires. Everyone mindlessly mingled; their voices were a civil drone. Oz was less inclined to act the part of the mechanical noble, however, even if he was supposed to be representing the house of Vessalius.

So he stood quietly in the area full of near-strangers, gripping his delicate plate. He began cheerlessly smashing his piece of vanilla cake about with the edge of his fork, pushing it alongside the corners until it was barely recognizable as the birthday dessert that it once was. How attractive.

He was bored out of his mind.

None of these "elite" party guests were at all to his taste. He had been to every one of their parties throughout the past year… as he was obliged to do. And they were all the same. One day they would inherit their parents' fortunes and soon they would be expected to exchange words of business instead of childish intrigue.

In his opinion, they were simply useless brats. Not at all imaginative or fun to play with like his Gilbert. Not that Gil was all that adventurous really, seeing as he had to be dragged into Oz's brilliant shenanigans, but at least he was genuine… and made for a great tease. The reminiscence caused the corners of his mouth to soften briefly before mundane conversation brought him back to reality. Even as young children, Oz swore that the young nobles could bore even the most tolerant person to tears. Only now as teenagers, they seemed to have reached a new level of snobbish entitlement. Of course he had been called such before (perhaps more mockingly than seriously), but he never felt like one of them. And he never wanted to be. And so he remained. On the outside looking in.

Uninterested viridian eyes scanned his less than appetizing masterpiece of mushed cake before setting it upon the table to be discarded by one of the servants. Carelessly casting his glance about the courtyard, his eyes landed next on the Earl Trancy, easily spotted with his plum colored frock. So pale and full of himself, Oz silently wagered by the smug look adorning the earl's face. An impeccable image, aside from the occasional creepy glance towards his guests, as always. He was stationed pompously near the grandiose double doors of his mansion.

Bright lights spilled from the inside, silhouetting his form. China blue eyes seemed to glow while they observed and as if feeling the weight of his regard, his gaze next slid toward Oz, forcing an unwelcome chill to prickle at his skin. The ash-blond earl continued to stare with an air of playfulness and his lips only curled slightly in response, seeing that the young Vessalius had caught him in the act. Oz was the first to break their eye contact, embarrassment twisting deep within his stomach as a light burn intruded over his face.

Alois Trancy always made others uneasy despite his seemingly careless smiles and laughter. Perhaps it was the fact that Oz couldn't detect the intentions that he held behind his grins. They seemed both genuine and false, if that was even possible. The young Vessalius, who was usually so proficient at detecting hidden things, couldn't tell. And it was that uncertainty that made his skin crawl.

Oz curiously peered back again, simultaneously surprised and alarmed to see that Alois was now slowly making his way towards him, walking in a way that he could only describe as predacious. Or was that just his imagination?

Thoughts skimmed madly through Oz's head, wondering what he should do. He very well couldn't just walk away after noticing that the earl was approaching him. That would just look stupid. And needlessly rude. Yes—brilliant way to represent the family name. So he waited, leaning faintly against the table behind him, fingers curling against the mahogany edge, a neutral expression carefully sliding into place.

"Enjoying yourself?" The soft blue gaze seemed to shimmer as they surveyed the deep green eyes of his target—a Vessalius trait. It was the easiest hint when it came to recognizing which family Oz came from despite the many years since they had last been in each other's company. Not that they really knew each other at all. Each time prior had been during the dull sequence of endless parties and rendezvous with the other young nobles... congratulating themselves on being the future lords of the world. All the while, Oz felt horribly restrained amidst their finery. He was surprised that he didn't just get up and leave in the middle of it all.

"Yes, of course. Everything is lovely." The rehearsed response came a hair too quickly, but Oz smiled all the same… and he was speaking truthfully. Everything was lovely. As it always was. Sickeningly so. Feeling the sudden urge to fidget, his hand yearned for the comforting weight of a cup of tea if only to keep it occupied. Instead, his fingers dug harder against the wood behind him.

"Yes! It is, isn't it?" Alois' enthusiasm bubbled brightly, his expression almost akin to childish bliss as he spared a quick, spinning glance at their surroundings before sliding deftly alongside Oz. He leaned a bit closer to the young Vessalius, softly pressing his shoulder against his, eyes glittering with unreadable intent.

"Everything is just as I expected," his voice dipped a bit lower and the giggling exuberance faded, replaced by something a tad darker.

Oz could feel tension resting over his shoulders at the touch, but his posture remained fluid. Casually, he lightly pushed himself from the table away from their newfound closeness. Not to appear insulting, however; he turned around, facing the earl once more. It was all as if he were simply moving about. Flawlessly played. Now Oz's smile was a bit more genuine, while Alois' dimmed in the slightest.

"Do you even know who I am, Trancy?" Oz questioned neutrally, an eyebrow raised challengingly. His gaze was now aglow with a somewhat playful resolve, though his face remained the image of disarming innocence.

Indulge me.

Alois' lowered corner of his mouth was now strained as he watched the peculiar boy before him. Not to be taken lightly, Alois thought. He, too, understood the game that nobility played. A pretentious, twisted path. Facades and ulterior motives paved their life up until their deathbed. It's what they've been taught and it is how it has always been. Beneath harmless, angelic exteriors, they both harbored a great capacity for deceit. Not to be trifled with. Even now, Alois continued to stare back at those veiled windows to the soul. They pierced him with a pungent taste of that forbidden threat. Oz could be dangerous; the realization send sharp shivers across Alois' flesh. An insatiable hunger—the kind that he never could satisfy—wanted to capture whatever lied behind those bottled eyes. He wanted it all for himself.

His body now pulsed, demanding satisfaction. One that he had known many times before… The young earl was barely aware of the tip of his tongue as it touched his bottom lip. Blue eyes now alit with a dark fire as it consumed every detail of the young mystery before him, just waiting to be exposed, reduced to a bundle of quivering, vulnerable nerves. His eyes moved from the slight disarray of golden hair, to the elegant curve of his pale jaw, to the slender shape of his body hidden beneath expensive apparel, back to those maddeningly glass-green eyes.

"Why, of course I do! You're Oz…" Alois said. Liking this mounting attention from his new fixation, the ash-blond made sure to absorb every little drop that Oz gave him.

All the while, Alois ignored the way that his heart began to pound as he slid closer, slowly moistening his own lower lip once more before continuing. "…The only son of Lord Zai Vessalius. Your mother died after your sister was born. You love to read… You hate coming to these parties… And you have a fondness for bread pudding with apple raisin sauce." His smirk grew wider, noticing Oz's incredulous expression over that last detail. "It's the only thing I've ever seen you eat," he explained.

Oz shifted away, his face once again neutral.

In a flash, Alois moved close, pressing his body softly against him, feeling the scant, tantalizing warmth of their pressed physiques. Biting back a noise, Alois leaned over to the side of his face as if to drop a whisper. Though he stiffened, the Vessalius boy remained still, nervously shifting his eyes towards the other nobles, relieved to find that none seemed to paying them any heed. Alois gently inhaled, filling his lungs with Oz's musky, sweet scent. He smelled a bit different from what Alois expected from an aristocrat. Instead of powder, refinement, and linen, there was warmth, the outdoors, and fresh excitement. The scent was strongest in the gathered heat radiating from the crook of his neck. His mouth watered.

Leaning even closer, pleased that he still hadn't moved, Alois' lips brushed softly against the shell of Oz's ear, feeling him bristle beneath his touch.

"I've been watching you," he breathed, his pulse thick. The Earl Trancy's eyelids grew heavy as he felt the noble shiver in the slightest against him. Oz still didn't move away.

"Why?" Oz's voice lowered to a whisper, only for Alois' ears. The intimate feel of this action caused a flicker of excitement through the ash-blond. Oz's was focused on him! And him alone.

"Why not?" His lips now moved so lightly against his cheek down to the edge of his jaw that it was barely even there. Oz shivered with each feather-like caress, unused to being touched like this. Despite being an innocent, casual flirt around others, Oz really had no experience with being intimate at all. His lungs strained, holding back his tight breath.

"You stand out to me, Oz. Especially when you're trying to be invisible… it only makes you all the more noticeable," Alois' voice was light and pleasant once again, as if complimenting the weather.

His more daring fingers toyed with the edge of Oz's string tie; his curled pale lips now the decadent image of sin. Oz turned to stare at the mischievous earl; a light pink now dusting his cheeks. Without warning, Alois jumped back from Oz, the retraction leaving him a bit dazed and cold.

"Come with me~" Alois grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly as he pulled him through the double doors of the mansion. His was voice sounding more and more like they were children about to engage in a thrilling game of hide-and-find as he babbled on.

"I suppose that we could find you some more of that bread pudding if you'd like! –I mean, is that really all you ever eat? Or is that just whenever you're here? Do my servants need to be punished for their awful cooking?— The recent weather has created some awful road conditions. They've been so intolerable lately! Perhaps your carriage will break down on the way to get you and then you'd get to spend the entire night here! Wouldn't that be wonderful? You know, maybe I should—"

Oz was only half listening to the eccentric, excitable noble as he was half pulled down a hallway that he had never ventured before from past birthdays. Not that he had gone every year. The last time he was here, they were around nine years old. Instead, his eyes wandered past the high, vaulted ceilings and the imposing portraits of past Trancys. None of which looked anything like Alois. Briefly, Oz wandered if the rumors about him were true. That he hadn't a single drop of noble blood. That he wasn't a Trancy by any legitimate relation.

The candlelit hallway grew eerily quiet despite Alois' cheerful ramblings as they wandered further from the foyer. The unsettling feeling wavered when Alois abruptly stopped before one of the doors. Sighing, he dug into the pocket of his plum frock, until finally producing a single brass key. They both jumped back from the door, however; just as it shot open, revealing a brunette maid, pushing a dainty tray. Upon seeing the two of them, her eyes widened into an expression of deep mortification.

"What are you doing here?" Alois voice took on an ugly, fierce tone that Oz had never heard him use before. Then again, it's not like he knew him that well to begin with.

"Ah…m-my a-a-apologies… master," she swallowed tightly, liquid brown eyes awash with fresh fear.

Oz's expression darkened in the slightest when he saw Alois move toward her. Of course it was not any of his business how others treated their servants, but it still never sat well with him whenever he saw them being mistreated for such trivialities. Oz was never that sort of master. Especially with Gil. Gil was his friend first and his servant second (even if Gil didn't seem to think so.) Thinking quickly after seeing blunt terror seize the maid, he grabbed a hold of Alois hand before it could be raised, taking care to skim his fingertips along the inside of his wrist, hoping that it would be enough to distract him.

"Don't tell me we're here already?" Oz asked, his voice now the same playful tone that he often used with Gil. He stepped into the room, deftly avoiding the maid as he tugged Alois along. "I thought you were going to show me something, Alois. Well, what is it?" Oz took care to smile at him as convincingly as he could, green eyes now open and shining with persuasion.

Alois, none the wiser, seemed to have forgotten the maid, his oddly hungry gaze now fixed upon Oz, eagerly trailing him into the room. The maid took the distraction for all it was worth and quickly left down the hall, the clinking sound of her quivering tray soon faded.

"Have a seat," Alois' spoke quietly. He almost sounded a bit solemn as he closed the door behind them.

Trying to ignore the foreboding rhythm of his pulse, Oz sat upon the large sofa that took center stage, more or less, in the room. Looking further, it was difficult to decipher what sort of room this was… a study, perhaps? It was too neatly tucked away to serve as only a spare drawing room, but that's exactly what it appeared to be. There were sprawling, cushioned sofas accompanied by an occasional side table with various decorative containers and amber-filled glass bottles. The only out of place item was the large desk towards the back, designating that some sort of business also took place here. What startled Oz more was the fact that there was ready-made tea set out, along with what looked like bread pudding with that blasted apple raisin sauce.

Now he wasn't sure if he could ever eat his favorite dessert again without feeling creeped out. Damn Alois.

What on earth was the earl trying to pull here?

Of course Oz already held suspicions of what Alois' intentions were, so he wasn't too shocked upon hearing the door being locked behind him. Instead of demanding an explanation like any normal person would have, Oz calmly poured himself a cup of tea, relishing in the scent that wafted up, caressing his nostrils. Bringing the rim of the teacup to his lips, he savored a sip of the brew before also indulged himself with a bite of the warm pudding. It's smooth sweetness melting against his tongue. Couldn't let it go to waste, even if he was now a temporary prisoner of sorts, now could he?

Upon seeing the plum frock moving close from the corner of his eye, Oz smirked slightly before sliding his gaze over towards Alois. "How thoughtful of you to send for tea beforehand," he deadpanned, though he continued to smile sweetly.

Alois' lips thinned, unsure if he was sending him a veiled insult or simply making an observation. To sway a possibly soured mood, he chose to believe the latter.

"You asked why I brought you hear," Alois expression altered into a leer, his blue eyes no longer those of an innocent boy, but a worldly predator as he drew closer. His gaze locked with Oz's as he allowed his frock to slide off his shoulders. The subtle friction of fabric against his dress shirt sounded louder than it should in the silence of the moment before it pooled to the floor about his boots. The dramatic removal paired with those knowing eyes radiated something raw. A sexual energy not normally befitting a boy of fifteen. Oz's eyes widened in the slightest as his body went rigid with his heavily hammering heart.

"I want to make a deal with you, Oz," the earl uttered softly before giggling, a strange reaction considering the sudden tenseness that had fallen between them. He drew closer, standing with Oz's knees between his, leaning forward. His hands pressed against the back of the sofa on each side of the Vessalius' head. Oz stiffened, retreating so that his back was now tightly aligned against the cushioned furniture.

Despite the awkward position, Oz stared ahead, almost managing to look a bit uninterested. "And what sort of deal are you proposing, Trancy," he muttered, trying not to let the annoyed apprehension steal his tone.

"Oz… Oz," Alois tutted before moving swiftly, brazenly pushing his body up against the young Vessalius, straddling his thighs and pinning him against the sofa. The earl sidled up until he was against Oz's hips, pushing him a tad deeper into the cushion. Oz's startled, sweating hands splayed against the back cushion as he observed this unpredictable lout, his mind racing. To make matters worse, Alois' short trousers hitched, baring the tops of his pale thighs as he leaned forward to graze his tongue along Oz's jaw, closing in on his ear. Even with the layers of clothing between them, Oz could feel every detail of his body as he pressed even harder against him. Oz bit back an alarmed noise from the back of his throat when he suddenly felt teeth at his ear, alternating between nipping and sucking. Alois chuckled softly after releasing the ear lobe he had been toying with, sounding once more like an excitable child. One that was playing a delightful game.

"Make a deal with me," he repeated breathily against his ear, moistened with saliva. Oz shivered. "We'd make brilliant allies." He paused, letting the comment sink into the silent Vessalius boy before brushing his lips alongside the exposed skin of his neck, reveling in the sumptuous warm scent that it held.

Alois' movements burned against his skin and Oz's breath became short, wondering briefly why this earl was suddenly behaving like one of London's painted whores. The thought made his face flush. Deciding to turn to logic for aid, Oz forced a genuine-sounding laugh, causing Alois to throw him a glance, riddled with barely concealed confusion. Green eyes seemed to dance with amusement as they connected with Alois' blue stare. "Oh, Alois. What could I possibly give you that you don't already have?"

Alois scoffed slightly, though the dark glint remained. Placing his hand against Oz's silk vest, it moved upward until his fingers twisted with the ends of his jade-hued ribbon tie. He pulled, watching it become loose.

"Isn't it obvious?" A stray finger caressed beneath his chin, gently angling Oz's face up towards his.

"Use me. Take me. Make me yours. In return, I will be your ally. A business subordinate even… whatever you want." Alois leaned in closer till the tips of their noses barely touched. "I'm sure your father will be pleased with the improved relations." Oz's breath became short. Would he really whore himself out for the sake of his father's good fortune? The man whom he so fervently sought approval from. To fill that barren void? His body stiffened.

No. He wouldn't.

His face jerked away from Alois' as if scalded by poison, while his body attempted to wriggle away from its confinement. A gleam of panic seemed to have awoken within Alois' lusty gaze. His soft, persuasive hands now fisted the front of Oz's vest and dress shirt as he squirmed away from him, desperation now hugging his thin frame. No longer did he exude the air of a wanton harlot, but now the frightened demeanor of a child about to be abandoned.

"Wait! Please!" He wailed, voice choked with such thick panic, it forced Oz to hesitate in his escape.

Looking down at the blond earl, he couldn't help but to truly see him for what he was. Behind the grandeur of his finery and title, he really was just a child… albeit one with twisted appetites… but still, just a child. Young Trancy with his creased dress shirt and his dark stockings paired with short trousers. He even dressed like a child. For a moment, Oz wondered what it was like for him. To hold the responsibility of a adult with the recent death of his predecessor.

Alois must not have liked what he saw come over the Vessalius, for he suddenly cast his gaze elsewhere, an unreadable sort of hardness creeping into his features.

Well... what now? It's not like he could just walk out of here with the door still being locked. Perhaps he could talk with him? Reason with him? The longer he thought about it, the more he began to think that it was really his only option at this point.

"Well..." Oz said, a seemingly light tone easing his throat. He sighed, his expression softening as he touched Alois' shoulder, quickly gaining his attention. "Don't look like that. I'll... stay." One of Oz's rare, genuinely tender smiles came over him. He couldn't just leave someone looking so despondent in any case.

Alois regarded him thoughtfully, blue eyes wary now at this sudden change in demeanor. Was the Vessalius heir always this peculiar? That was not how someone might normally act after trying to escape a sexual advance.

Oz sat once more upon the sofa, taking another careful sip from his now lukewarm tea, trying to steady the sudden tremble within his hands. On the outside, he really was impeccable; on the inside, he scrambled to hold back the poorly bandaged cracks. Was it even normal to smile like this when in constant, internal pain? Still, he beamed gently at the motionless Alois after setting down his teacup. "Really Alois, why don't you have some? It has an… interesting flavor." Not that it was bad, just exotic; Oz probably would have called it.

China blue eyes still burned with that unquenched fire as he watched. Alois stood slowly, sliding opening the front of his forest green vest, porcelain fingers caressing the sides of the silk. A horrible smirk twisted across his young features as he cocked his head proudly to the right, the pale fringe of his hair shadowing the sudden, intense gaze. "That tea is a bit strong for me," his voice grew husky. "I prefer a bit more water in mine."

Oz pondered over this, while he felt warmth flood beneath his skin. He thought little of it until it grew, pleasant at first until it began to burn. He choked mid-sip, immediately spilling the contents, dropping the cup. It landed with a soft thump on the carpet amidst the dark stain. Oz clutched at his stomach where the warmth became most unbearable. Then came the numbness.

No… that blasted tea!

As if reading his thoughts, Alois spoke. "It won't last long. Minutes, maybe." His face was exuberant before speaking once more, his voice harboring a dark undertone, "It will be enough time, Vessalius."

Oz tried to ignore him, focusing on the much more present burn as it cooled into heavy numbness. It spread into his cheeks, filling his insides and even his vision blurred slightly. Everything felt so heavy, almost deliciously so, like moving through a hazy dream. Limbs became slow and thick as a pleasant hum settled over his thoughts, like the luxurious film of silk being draped over his mind.

He was vaguely aware of slim arms wrapping around his torso, catching him from falling over, slowly lowering him onto the plush sofa at the center where he had first seated himself. Oz attempted to cry out, though only a small, embarrassing whimper of a protest escaped. "Shh… hush, love," Alois' tender whisper touched his ear, warm breath puffing against his skin, sending enticing tremors all throughout his body. "I've got you, Oz."

With his back pressed against the cushions, Alois hovered close, his faces inches above. Oz could only stare back stupidly, his lids feeling heavy. Everything held a rosy, hazy glow as he felt the softness of ivory fingers caressing his face, down the curve of his neck, and dipped beneath the collar of his shirt, pulled aside to reveal more sweaty, pale flesh.

Alois felt the juices flowing in his mouth, hunger overtaking every sense as he lowered his mouth over Oz, sealing his lips. He ravished him, licking at every expanse of vulnerable, pink flesh, nipping everywhere, and sucking at his lower lip hard enough to bruise. "Oz…" he gasped, breathing harshly before his fingers massaged at his jaw, forcing the mouth open before plunging in his tongue to meet his. Oz could only feel and barely move in response, trying to swallow the gathering pool of their shared saliva before it dribbled down his chin and only half succeeded. He felt Alois explore deeply within his mouth, feeling the moist muscle against the roof of his mouth, along his gums, stroking his own useless tongue. He felt teeth, pulling, sucking at it as he pulled away.

Oz breathed heavily when they separated, feeling a bead of wetness trickle down the corner of his mouth. Alois released the tip of his tongue, his heavily lidded eyes laden with desire. His lips glistening and rosy as color flooded in his cheeks. Oz watched Alois' fingers undoing the remaining buttons of his white dress shirt, his expression now teasing as if putting on a show.

Has he done this before?

The thought disturbed Oz, though not more so than what had been happening so far. And still, he remained relatively calm. Taking it in stride.

Not before long, Alois slipped the shirt with sensual slowness from his shoulders, revealing porcelain skin. Oz's eyes involuntarily followed down the pale expanse of his chest, while Alois grabbed Oz's motionless hands. Opening his moist palms, he pressed them against the his skin of his exposed sides, slowly guiding them up and around the curve of his waist, back towards the front and up until he could feel the bumps of his collarbone. Alois eyelids grew heavy, wanton need shining through his gaze. Oh, how he wanted to be touched like this. Adored. Wanted.

Oz held his hand up for only a split second, testing if he could move on his own yet, before Alois dropped them. Understanding seemed to dawn on him that the scant taste of the drug was wearing off, and began to hurriedly pull at the Vessalius' clothes. First, the undone ribbon tie was thrown over the edge of the couch where it dangled. Next came the silk vest and white dress shirt. The buttons were nearly torn off in hast, though after he was able to slip it off of Oz's bare arms, he merely allowed them to slip to the floor beside them. Next came both of their trousers. Watching him work so adeptly within his short window of opportunity, Oz nebulously wondered how many he had done this to before. It was blatant that his swift accuracy with quickly pulling off clothing had been done often enough before. Painfully practiced with meticulous detail.

Oz's breathing became heavier and more difficult to control while heat began to pool in his abdomen. He groaned, feeling his body flush with the sudden contact of Alois hands as they traveled down the length of his legs, pulling each trouser leg with them. When Trancy crawled back up Oz's body, he flushed even darker upon seeing that they were both now completely unclothed.

Alois lowered himself, harshly grounding their hips together, pleased to find that his soon-to-be-conquest was already somewhat hard. Oz tilted his chin, feeling the drowsiness beginning to wear off while the growing need for friction caused his senses to explode. He felt the young Earl Trancy's lips against the side of his neck, sucking, biting, and marking—all while continuing those sinful rolls of his hips against his.

Oz's gasped—need and pleasure now controlling his vocals while trying his best to press back against the other. Rational thought thinned, escaping like poorly held water, while only the desire to rut against that warm, moist expanse of skin above him remained.

God, he wanted more. And he wasn't exactly sure what to do next.

Oz was unaware of the fact that his hands now began to move of their own accord, fingertips pressing urgently against Alois' lower back, pushing him harder and harder against him with every thrust. Alois was aware, however, and smiling. He pulled Oz's body close, melding their sweat slickened flesh together so that no space separated them.

"Ughhh... please," Alois whimpered against Oz's ear before tearing at his lobe with his teeth, drawing blood this time. "Oz… fuck me."

Alois reached up over the Vessalius' golden mess of hair, dipping his fingers into the amber glass jar resting at the side table. One that Oz had wondered at earlier. His pale digits came away shining, dribbling with slick oil. He pulled away from Oz, ignoring the involuntary groan of protest from his partner. Reaching behind him, he prepared himself, immediately sliding in one experienced finger after the other, knowing exactly where to touch. His breath hitched, laced with pain, though desire seemed to burn brighter, turning those soft innocent blues into one that was electric, brimming with energy. So alive.

He touched something hard and smooth inside, causing him to internally cringe with pleasure. "Ughh… Oh, God…" he moaned. Teeth sunk suggestively into his lower lip while lazily surveyed Oz who was watching him with those wide, emerald eyes, virginal arousal shining within them. Alois smirked. "Enjoying the –ahh—view?"

Oz's hitched breath echoed his shivering pulse, lust pounding so hard that it was all he could see and feel. His hips arched blindly up, seeking that friction once more. Alois removed his fingers as he straddled further up Oz's abdomen, raising himself up over his hard arousal. The golden blond nearly choked when the tip of his cock made faint contact with the slippery, puckered entrance.

Anchoring himself by pressing one hand against Oz's shoulder and the other on the sofa, he lowered himself, easily taking in the swollen length of flesh beneath him. Oz's eyes widened at the feeling—Alois' body seemed to swallow him and continued to suction him in, greedily pulling at him. He had never felt anything like it before. It was tight and overheated and so glorious, he could only wriggle his hips more, desperate for that beautiful friction to take him away, blind him from the world around them.

Alois, feeling similar desperation after the easy adjustment, moved his body, raising and lowering his hips, gliding, taking in Oz's erection over and over. He nearly wept with relief, relishing the feeling of being filled once more. Fuck, how he missed this… like someone loved him. Wanted him. Needed his wet heat. Needed him… so desperately.

"Nnngh… Oz… Oz… fuck me… fuck…" Alois continued to plead with him, his voice rising with each pound and thrust as he skillfully flipped them over, pressing his own back against the sofa, feeling that Oz now had enough control over his body to continue the rhythm, maneuvering his legs as they tangled with his.

Oz, unthinking of his re-acquired mobility, quickly took control from above, thrusting hard, pistoning in and out of that tight, moist, welcoming heat. He vaguely felt Alois slender legs wrap high against his hips, completely spread, completely vulnerable. Giving all he had and greedily taking all that Oz had to offer in return.

Their bodies weaved together like possessive vines, covetous of the other's vibrant warmth until one could barely tell where one limb began and where the other ended. Flesh twisted and pounded against the other, molding invisible ties between them. Ties that could never be broken. Even years into the future, each would remember the other and how their flesh melded and became one. How they lusted after each other's frenzied caresses and how they fell into that scorching heat, tightly encased.

A bead of sweat rolled down Oz's throat and over the vicious, red bite mark that Alois had earlier left—wait, when had he done that? He felt similar trickles of perspiration and how they joined with those of the sweating, writhing flesh beneath him. Their escalating breaths intermingled, gasping, sounding more strangled as the tight coiling of their impending ends began to approach.

Alois threw his head back, panting heavily, blue eyes now that same blistering sheen from before as their shared passion singed through his veins. Passion that made him forget—forget everything except owning the other—owning those bottle green eyes as they connected with his. The Vessalius looked at him, almost tenderly, simultaneously baffling and arousing the Trancy. Affection—no matter its origin—always excited him. He released a choked moan, clawing at Oz's back beneath his tensed shoulder blades, feeling the forewarnings of orgasm as it clenched at his insides.

"Do you like how I feel, Vessalius?" His provocative question came out in hushed, broken tones between heavy breaths, just over the sound of their skin slapping together.

Oz's eyes darkened and something odd crossed his gaze as his face hovered even closer to Alois' a bare strip of air separating their sticky, swollen mouths. He thrust harder as he came closer to release and Alois whimpered. He sealed their mouths—Oz's first given kiss. Alois eagerly opened his lips when he felt Oz's tongue ask for entrance. Their slick muscles swiveled excitedly, sliding and caressing. Saliva slickened their lips and saturated the skin near their mouths, while the coils of desire wound tighter and tighter at the base of their groins.

"Oz…Oz…" Alois chanted softly once his mouth had been released, a string of spittle connecting their lips. It broke when Alois threw his head back once more with a desperate noise, feeling his body tighten unbearably. His toes curled. Fingers dug mercilessly into flesh as his mouth opened, releasing a strangled cry as orgasm hit. He came harder than he had in a long time, his body shuddering, contracting tightly around Oz. Sudden milky stickiness grew between their stomachs with each explosive clench. The Vessalius met his own finish at the sight of Alois' beautiful torment.

La petite mort.

Unraveling his legs from his waist, he felt Oz's toes curl against his foot. Alois sighed contentedly when he felt Oz fill him from the inside with his cum. He rocked his body against Oz's now shallow thrusts, elongating their orgasms until they were no more than distant pulses.

Shivering lightly, Oz collapsed against Alois, hugging his lithe frame tightly against him as they panted on the now damp cushion of the sofa. Their skin continued to stick together in the humidity and flushing heat of their act. Chests moved against the other. The movement eventually slowed into the warm afterglow of the moment. Oz allowed his lids to grow heavy while he nuzzled up against the crook of Alois' sweaty neck—too warm and content to care about anything else at the moment.

Alois wrapped his arms tightly around the body on top of him, cradling his warmth close, while affectionately weaving his fingers through his damp golden tresses. Alois felt a familiar feeling pressurizing within him—one that only rose after successfully capturing a particularly alluring bedmate. Steely resolve that would blister and boil with every future stolen moment with the young Vessalius heir. God—already he was possessive of his little piece of green-eyed gold. No one else can have him. As if sealing his unspoken vow, he tightened his grip over the body resting against him. He unconsciously stroked his scalp, a small smile touching upon his lips—for once not looking smug—upon hearing Oz's pleasured sighs.

They stayed like that for several hazy minutes, neither one wishing to be the one to break the spell of comfortable bliss, briefly hiding them away from the world outside that room.

Oz seemed to come to his senses the moment he stirred with purpose. He disconnected his body from Alois, eliciting a small hiss of pain from him. Oz offered an apologetic glance, which Alois eagerly accepted with an indulgent smile.

The Vessalius sat up on the sofa, his movement quickly mimicked by his recent leman. Their cheeks remained slightly flushed and their eyes were still glossy with sex as they began to right themselves. Oz ran a hand through his mussed hair, hoping that it didn't look too disheveled, not that he really gave a rat's arse what the other nobles would think upon seeing him. It's not like he was really all that ashamed or shy about what had just happened. No—let them know he had just had a thorough and proper fuck. Imagining their scandalized expressions brought a silly smile to his face.

The thought was broken the moment he felt a silken pair of lips meet his shoulder. He stiffened before relaxing against them, feeling the smoothness of his fingers as they stroked down his back, provoking shivers. Alois' mouth traveled lightly past his pulse point, up to the curve of his neck where he felt the small tip of his tongue move in small, nonsensical patterns. Oz exhaled slowly, feeling his pulse deepen pleasantly as it brought back heady, fresh memories of sinful sensations. His cheeks flushed darker.

Alois disconnected from him once more while they pulled their clothing back on. Oz's hand flinched every time it brushed against Alois' as they sorted through the mixed pile of clothing on the floor and over the arm of the sofa. The blue-eyed boy only beamed knowingly, while Oz blushed. Alois finished first, crossing one leg over the other, lazily surveying Oz through hooded eyes, watching him fix his ribbon tie.

"It's a shame to hide such a beautiful form behind so many layers," Alois' voice purred, immensely enjoying the lovely blush currently painting Oz's cheeks. He truly was an exquisite specimen. If only there were a lock and key that could keep him away from the rest of the world—existing only for his eyes, for his pleasure. A violent shiver traveled up his spine at the idea and Alois' smile widened.

Oh, yes. Now that was a lovely thought.

When they had both secured their coats, Alois unlocked the door. As they traveled down the hall, back towards the noise of the party, Alois traced a lone finger down Oz's back from behind. "We will do this again, won't we?" He whispered close to his ear. His tone was innocent and light, as if they were children planning out their next play-date. Oz shifted uneasily as they entered the brightly lit foyer.

Back in the real world, Alois' hand shied away from Oz's back, though his lewd gaze remained. Oz turned to him, green eyes once again behind his formal mask paired with that chillingly soft, empty smile. "I'm sure we will see each other soon, Lord Trancy. Business as usual."

Alois smirked, turning towards the shadows where the candles didn't quite reach as well, lifting the back of Oz's wrist up to his mouth, exposing the bare white strip of skin against his lips. He nipped at it lightly, savoring his companion's sharp intake of breath.

"Deal."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are love.

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