It came as a shock when the young Vessalius came to talk to him. The library of Pandora was hardly the best places for such a conversation and when the boy plopped down on the chaise with a smile that usually meant trouble for Gilbert, Vincent understood that the boy had something not nice in his mind.
But the actual idea was much worse than Vincent’s expectations. When Oz said that he wanted to do something nice for his brother, he had raised a sceptical eyebrow and scoffed.
However, the dazzling smile and those begging emerald eyes were a little guilty pleasure of his, because they reminded him of that man, and messing with this boy and with Gilbert was a rather rare occasion…
The goal (the one Oz fixed) was to relax Gilbert since he thought his servant was way too wound up and needed a break. So he came to Vincent, because he knew that the blonde cared a lot for his brother, enough to help him with his plan.
It was quite simple to slip some light sleeping pills in Gilbert’s food, and after finishing dinner, Gilbert was sleeping like a log on the sofa.
And Vincent marvelled at how unguarded his brother was in his sleep; the shirt having came undone along the way and a little of that (horrendous) scar showed, a darker strip of colour against pale (deliciously so) skin and sharply defined collarbones and hips. All in all a beautiful body, that he worshipped with his eyes, and his fingers tingled to touch and caress.
The short walk from the sitting room the library was by far a pleasurable living hell. Gilbert was groggy and he clung onto him with sleep-warmed limbs, strong despite the relaxation induced by the drugs. And he smelled so good, of smoke and sweets. And with a jolt he felt it, damnitall he was hard against his tight and the soft pink colour on his cheeks was just arousing.
When Oz opened the door of the library and came face to face with Gilbert’s chest, he blushed dark and smiled deviously to Vincent.
The ceiling hook had a multitude of uses but none was as pleasurable as this one. Rope was passed through it and it held Gilbert up, vulnerable, exposed, and still asleep. Oz was fumbling with something and curiously Vincent peeked, only to see some more rope.
And that rope was put to good use as it wound first around the back of Gilbert’s neck and then around his chest, diamond shapes delimitating patches of his body, intricate knots and lone threads of rope decorating his chest and thankgod it covered the scar.
Now all they had to do was wait for Gilbert to wake up.
But Oz was reluctant now, he was scared that Gilbert would yell and tell him he was a freak…the boy started pacing around the room, his clothes half undone and a panicked look crossing his boyish features, only a shadow of that confident smile from earlier.
Vincent, however kept his calm, walked to the large French doors, and undid the heavy curtains. The ribbons that held the curtains open were wide enough to be used for what he had in mind.
The glinting of light on silver blades startled Oz and the shrill ripping sound of the fabric did not help the growing feeling of unease. He could barely breath when Vincent walked with determined strides in his direction. The slow agonizing drag of velvet against his skin was simply exquisite, but the thought that it was Vincent who did this to him, made him tremble in distress and intense pleasure.
Yet just as fast the touch was gone and Vincent kneeled behind his brother, treading his fingers through raven curls and gently, almost carefully tightening the cloth over his eyes. He stood up graciously and when his eyes landed on Oz the boy shivered. With the same hands that touched his dear Gilbert, Vincent dragged the boy to the sofa.
Oz was panting softly and then hands slid under his clothes, to tease young skin, untouched and extremely sensitive; when he pinches a pair hard buds Oz arches into his palms with a hiss. Lips descend on his neck and Vincent tastes and samples a tight-corded neck, tense and stiff under his ministrations.
That’s when groaning softly Gilbert starts to awaken, dazed, naked, and hanging there helplessly, at the mercy of his captors.