Rating: R - mature content
Warnings: m/m content involving underage character(s). Spoilers - reference to episodes 6-7 and Raven's identity (if anyone still doesn't know).
Prompt: Pandora Hearts - Gil/Oz - domination - "For once, Gil was in control. Or was he?"
Word count: around 1600
Summary: Oz recreates an moment from ten years ago - for one of them - but now Gil is old enough to know what it meant. (Some clever writer could have made that prompt pertain to something other than sex; I'm not very clever. )
A/N: OMG I love this show so much; thanks for the prompt! I just noticed that I sort of failed at the "domination" part of it, but this is what I got from the rest so I hope it will do. And...I liked it yesterday, but now that it's time to post it I'm not so sure about it, so... meh. And I've only seen up to episode 11 of the anime, so sorry if something here is contradicted by stuff in the manga.
"Oz!" Gil exclaims, startled when Oz suddenly grabs his arms and pulls him around and seems to stumble backwards, smiling all the while - that beautiful, devious smile that Gil missed so much it never stopped hurting for ten whole years. He can only flail and fumble forward and fall down as well, until he lands, awkwardly sprawled on hands on knees, with Oz on his back on the floor beneath him.
Brief laughter makes his heart skip, beating as if no time had passed since the last prank was played on him like this. Oz still has a hold of his sleeves, so he can't do anything but stare down at his master as the laughter fades away but the smile remains, that all-too-innocent-to-be-believed smile that owns his heart.
Is it different, Gil wonders suddenly, that smile; has it changed since Oz returned? Although ten years didn't pass for Oz in that place, even a moment there would leave a mark, but Gil can't tell yet if there is any new darkness in his master. He wonders, and looks, anxious and half unwilling to see any change, worried that Oz might have become more fragile, but just as afraid that it made him stronger - because then, what use would Gil be?
He can't see anything past the brilliance of simply having Oz here again, just the same as his memories promised. All that he can see is all that he wants to see, that Oz is only the same as ever, toying with him, just as he ever did. Those ten years seemed endless as they passed for him, and yet now, seeing that teasing (almost threatening) smile again, he feels almost as if no time passed for him either.
Oz's expression changes, the smile becomes quieter, wide eyes falling half closed. Oz's hands drift up his arms, lightly squeezing over clenched biceps.
"So, Raven is really Gil," he muses. "But all grown up."
Raven - Gil - stiffens, then awkwardly tries to move, as he suddenly realizes how suggestive this position is, and worse yet, how familiar. This time, he is no one's puppet, under no one's control - except, of course, for Oz, as always.
But he can't move away because Oz has taken hold of the lapels of his jacket, and Gil suddenly remembers another reason this is familiar, but that was long ago - for him, at least. He was smaller then, smaller than Oz who had tripped him and tumbled them both down together in the grass, laughter in his eyes as he looked up into Gil's startled, flushed face.
What is he searching for? Gil wonders frantically, just as he had wondered back then, waiting for the rest of the trick to be played. What does he see?
"...I could never hide from you..."
"You wanted to get back at me for earlier, didn't you?" Oz had said on that long-ago occasion, as if he wanted (or dared) Gil to turn on him, and Gil had panicked. He'd already forgotten what Oz had done to him, because it never mattered what he did, anyway. All that mattered then (and still) was that he was with Oz.
"Or do you want something else?"
The question back then had made him shiver, inexplicably at the time. Gil - Raven now - panics again, remembering, and knowing that Oz had seen him remember.
Oz lets go of his arms, runs his hands down from his shoulders to the front of his shirt, curls his fingers into the fabric. Gil holds still, hardly breathing, waiting. But Oz doesn't pull him down this time, and finally, Gil realizes that this time, Oz is waiting for him.
"Gil," Oz says - and the note of doubt, of cautious inquiry, the hint of fear almost hidden in his voice nearly stops Gil's heart.
He suddenly realizes how much else is different from that other time, ten years of difference for him; how long his body is now, stretched above Oz like this. There is yet another sign of the time that stretches between them, a thing that was confusing then but carries far too much clarity now, as his body responds to Oz, to the sight of him and to his touch.
Gil's face feels red, and only grows hotter when Oz's lips twitch in a knowing smile. How could he know, Gil thinks wildly; if he didn't know then what Gil barely even recognized in himself, and hardly any time has passed for him, then he couldn't know now - or did he? Even then?
It is more evidence of the time that has passed between them when Oz reaches up and locks his hands behind Gil's neck. That time, Oz rose up and pulled Gil down all at once, and kissed him - and then let him go. Now, Gil remembers that he nearly went insane for days after that, wondering what he should have done, if he should have held on, wondering why Oz turned away as he did, and what his smile meant as he turned away. Wondering if it was a joke or a failure or something else, until he finally made himself forget that it could have been anything but a another prank.
But now, Oz reaches up with arms so much shorter than his, and Gil knows he could easily pull himself away from that grip now (no, not easily, not ever, even if his arms are stronger now), but Oz's smile is so wise that Gil still feels younger and smaller than his master.
Suddenly Gil realizes that if he waits too long, Oz will turn away again with that smile, and he will never know why.
So he drops down - meaning only to lower his head, but his whole body hunches down to hover just barely out of touch, still - and he feels a hot rush of relief when Oz also lifts his head at the last instant to accept his kiss.
Baffling, Gil thinks, that a kiss he nearly managed to forget over ten endless years still feels so familiar, even though he's so different. It must feel different to Oz, he thinks, measured against the fresher memory of a moment that has grown so distant to him; Gil knows he must taste different now, of tobacco and coffee and despair, and yet to him Oz's mouth tastes the same as ever, as that one time - surprisingly delicate, sweet, hot, and so soft that, this time, he can't make himself stop.
Until he feels fingers curl at the back of his neck, and hears a little sound from Oz's throat, and he jerks back, startled and worried.
This time, he's certain, for the smallest second (a tiny fraction of time that means as much as ten whole years) he sees Oz frown, sees disappointment flutter in his eyes.
Or do you want something else?
It was not just a question, not just a dare, then; flustered beyond comprehension by his own startled feelings at the time, he couldn't be sure of what he sees now so clearly with older eyes: it was a hope.
Then the smile returns, the shutters drawn on those green eyes; the light remains but the meaning is hidden.
Gil knew, even then, that the smile was a mask, or something like a mask, but even then he didn't dare guess what it was hiding in that moment when Oz had let him go and turned away. This time he doesn't pull back, and Oz doesn't let go.
But the smile is taunting, playing with him, daring him now, again. Is that also just a mask? Is Oz really waiting for him to move, wanting him to hold on, but masking his want with teasing? Gil wonders: as strange and topsy-turvy as it seems, does Oz want him to take control - this one time?
If he does, he might not be much longer in control of himself. May not be already, he realizes as he gathers Oz completely into his arms and kisses him again, hard this time. Oz responds with a startled little oof but then clings to him, clawing at him, and Gil wraps his arms around the - startlingly - smaller body.
Slowly, Gil becomes aware that Oz is scrabbling at his clothes, and at the same time wiggling underneath him. His fingers suddenly touch bare skin. Oz gasps and arches upward.
Gil's breath stops; choking with surprise, he breaks the kiss. Stares down at green eyes gazing up at him, still smiling but almost apologetic, wistful - longing.
"Gil, it's okay," Oz says. He touches Gil's face. Gil doesn't move, yet.
Oz slides around underneath him, stretching out his legs until Gil's hips are caught between his thighs. His smile may still be enigmatic but his meaning is perfectly clear.
Gil gasps, red-faced, but this time Oz does not laugh at him at all, and he doesn't let go. He doesn't turn away, and yet he doesn't pull Gil down again, either.
"It's okay," Oz repeats, palm against Gil's cheek. "I know you won't hurt me."
It almost sounds like a threat, or a dare, but that is also a mask.
And, somehow, when Gil has removed all the clothes that are in their way, peeling away layers like the years that are between them, and when he bears down on Oz and does what ten endless years of memories and dreams denied, he doesn't - so careful, in spite of all the doubt and the long waiting, that he doesn't hurt either of them, Oz or himself. Somehow. Because he could never hurt his precious master, no matter what; and, he thinks, because they have hurt each other quite enough already.