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The cold of the Atlantic Ocean was not easily vanquished. It clung tightly to his young master, digging its icy fingers into his skin and curling stubbornly in his bones. It didn’t help that they could not go immediately back to the manor. Instead, it was necessary to stay and be interviewed by various parties investigating the untimely demise of the Campania and the horrors that had occurred aboard, as well as to linger and make sure Elizabeth and the Midfords were safely on their way first. Sebastian was growing irritated by the end of it. Ciel’s condition was not stable and would not be stable until he could rest at home, undisturbed.
There was also the question of his own wounds, but he was mostly ignoring that for the time being.
Ciel shivered on the long ride back to the manor, even within the cab of the carriage and wrapped in several layers of wool. Sebastian’s contract mark prickled constantly, echoing the constant, mild discomfort. In hindsight, it was a minor miracle that his little master, so frail and prone to falling ill, hadn’t caught true hypothermia in the small lifeboat as they awaited rescue. Sebastian had scraped together what small amount of energy he had left to project an unnatural amount of body heat, and Ciel had been exhausted enough to allow himself to be held.
Then again, Sebastian didn’t really believe in miracles, so perhaps it was just luck. Lucky that they’d both survived the night at all. He could not remember the last time he had been so severely injured or pushed so near to his limit while fulfilling a contract. It some ways it was exhilarating, or it would have been if his charge hadn’t been there with him, in the midst of the bloodshed, in constant, serious danger.
When the carriage finally pulled to a stop, Sebastian all but spirited Ciel upstairs, not even bothering to offer any excuses to the servants who had attempted to crowd around the earl in relief and joy, in his haste to get him into a warm bath.
“Sebastian,” Ciel complained, pushing his hands off and scowling at him. “Was that really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so, master,” Sebastian replied, urging the water to heat up a bit faster than it usually would so he could begin filling the tub. “You’re already likely going to catch some manner of cold after being chilled for so long. This must not be delayed a second longer.”
Ciel huffed, moving to sit primly on the bench adjacent to the tub and not bothering to begin undressing himself even as steam began to fill the space. “If I was going to get sick, I would have done so already.” He crossed his arms over his chest, petulant. “And what about you? Did I not order you to rest once we returned?”
Sebastian suspected his master was simply trying to be contrary however he could, but was somewhat surprised he’d brought that up a second time. The wound from the death scythe was nowhere near fully healed, but it was no longer bleeding through dressings in a matter of hours. “I apologize if I’ve done something to indicate that my wound is bothering me in any way. I assure you, it is not.” The tub was filled and Sebastian moved to stand in front of Ciel.
The boy stood and held his arms out to allow Sebastian to begin relieving him of the many layers of fabric covering his small frame. “But is it healed?” he asked, his aim as precise as ever.
Sebastian smiled thinly. “It is not hindering my duties.”
“That’s not an answer,” Ciel scolded, shrugging off the starched blue cotton of his button-down, but didn’t push the matter further. Soon after, Sebastian was helping him step into the tub and watching as he sank down into the water.
The earl let out a low sound of relief, his eyes slipping closed, hiding the sigil that had been revealed just moments earlier. He stretched his limbs out like a dozing cat, flexing his toes above the water and leaning his head back against the porcelain rim. Sebastian couldn’t help but watch with satisfaction. He added a few oils into the bath to promote muscle relaxation. Ciel’s expression was as near to serene as it ever got. “Is it to your taste, young master?”
Ciel hummed, noncommittal. The lack of retort was more indicative of his exhaustion than anything else would be.
“I suspect the others are in a state after your return. Would you excuse me to see to them?” Truthfully, Sebastian had no desire to leave, but he thought it would probably be for the best if he was to corral the idiots before they did something headache-inducing.
Ciel opened one eye, just enough to fix him with his gaze. “Fine. But return when you’re finished.”
“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian bowed slightly before prying himself from the cloying humidity of the bathroom and setting off to put things back in order for the evening.
The servants were in disarray as expected, immediately launching into a barrage of questions and emotional outbursts. Sebastian did his best to calm them, despite not really having much patience for it at the moment.
“The young lord is safe,” he stated firmly, in a tone that indicated he was done discussing this. “That is what matters. Now, what he needs is time for rest and recovery. That will be best accomplished in an orderly, quiet home.”
The three fools ducked their heads and agreed with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
“Were there really zombies on the ship?” Finny asked, after a brief pause, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know exactly what they were,” Sebastian humored him with a lie.
“I can’t believe the thing sank,” Bard commented. “After all the talk of it being the ‘greatest ship ever.’”
“Are you okay, Mr. Sebastian?” Mey-Rin asked, peering up at him through the thick lenses of her glasses.
Sebastian smiled through the small spike of irritation the question caused, lips pressed together. “Of course. I would never inconvenience the young master by being indisposed at such a crucial time.”
Something frustrated twisted in his gut, and he ignored it. He decided he had spent an appropriate amount of time on this task, and began assigning the humans various tasks to keep them busy for the remainder of the night.
“Let’s all work hard so the young master gets better quickly!” Finny announced and the others were sucked easily into his enthusiasm.
Sebastian took off his tail coat and rolled his sleeves up. He reached for his apron and set off to gather ingredients. He was tempted to do a sweep of the grounds to see what had been damaged during his absence and if it was salvageable or not, but he couldn’t bring himself to spend the time. Even now, he was compelled back upstairs to his master. Since the ship, he hadn’t been tolerating Ciel being out of his sight very well. The emergence of such a formidable threat that had been lurking right beneath their noses had caused something inside of him to shift. He hadn’t yet had time to investigate it in detail, but he knew it was there.
Change was not very familiar to a creature so long-lived as he was, especially change within himself. He’d thought the feeling would fade, but it was strong as ever nearly a week now after the incident. He was always aware of his master’s location to some degree, in the back of his mind, present if he reached for it. They were tethered, but loosely so. Now, he was hyper-aware of the information at all times, unwilling to store it out of sight. If either of them strayed too far from the other, he felt a physical, demanding pull, like a fish hook dug into the skin of his hand, sharp and impossible to ignore.
As far as he could tell, this was not caused by Ciel himself. He was not calling for Sebastian more than usual, not even unconsciously. No, this change in their bond had happened within him.
Sebastian had been challenged for meals before, but it had been centuries since that was a real threat. He knew this contract was different in many ways, but never before had he felt something eerily similar to the cold bite of fear rip through him at the sight of his contractor in peril. It went beyond injured pride at not having seen the Undertaker for what he was and being temporarily bested in a fight. The memory of his master in the shinigami’s arms played, unbidden, in his mind, and filled him with a hot, dangerous sort of feeling. It made his carefully constructed skin itch with the urge to tear through it.
He would not, of course. It would go completely against his aesthetic. He had better control of himself than that.
Still, it was unnerving.
He was well into making a soup when he was drawn back into the present. The fourth and newest member—and likely also the least irritating—of the household was standing next to him, hovering quietly. “We’re glad to see you and the young master’s safe return, says Emily,” Snake told him.
Snake had been sent home ahead of time and firmly instructed by Ciel to rest until they returned. Sebastian could admit that the man had been useful in a time of crisis. “I’m sure the young master will be pleased to know you made it safely back to the manor as well.” He glanced down at the soup he’d been making and felt a sting in his hand. “Would you finish up here? It needs to be minded until it comes to a boil. Then it can be taken off the heat to rest.”
“It would be my pleasure, says Goethe.”
Sebastian surrendered his spoon, and gave into the urge to return upstairs.
Enough time had passed that Sebastian thought Ciel might have grown impatient and exited the bath, but when he reentered the bathroom he found him exactly where he’d left him. His head was tilted back, bearing the tender, vulnerable skin of his neck to the air. Sebastian clenched his teeth at the sight.
He stepped forward and brushed a hand along the side of the tub to clandestinely reheat the water to a more pleasant temperature.
“I saw that.” Ciel peered at him from under dark lashes, heavy with moisture. The sigil in his right eye cast a faint violet glow onto his cheek.
“Saw what, sir?” Sebastian asked, his mind and being quietening once again now that the boy was back in his sights.
Ciel scoffed at him and sat up, water sluicing down his shoulders in sparking trails. “Dare I ask about the state of the manor?”
“There is nothing to concern yourself over at present. Tomorrow morning I will be certain to check for and ameliorate any…discrepancies.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Ciel asked, willfully innocent in the way he was when he was plying information from someone.
“Unless you command me to do so now.” The thought was irritating, but of course he would obey. He had a feeling his master might have him do it, simply because it was likely clear he didn’t want to.
“No,” Ciel murmured, settling back against the tub once more. “Not tonight.”
Sebastian didn’t fight back a pleased smile. “Yes, sir.” He moved to gather the supplies necessary to actually bathe the boy. He couldn’t just sit in the water all night, after all. “I’ve prepared a vegetable soup for when you’re finished with your bath.”
Ciel didn’t respond for a few moments until Sebastian again approached the tub.
“Sebastian.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Can demons die?”
Sebastian froze, taken aback by the question. He blinked and observed his young master who was steadfastly ignoring his eyes, looking down into the bathwater and trying to look disinterested. It was rare for his master to ask questions about his true nature. Sebastian thought that the reason their charade worked so well was because both of them were deeply committed to their roles, to the point that they almost never acknowledged the existence of any sort of “true self.” The boy also hated to show his hand.
“Why, master, could it be that you’re concerned about me?” Sebastian teased, falling back on something familiar in response to an inquiry that was anything but. He pulled over the wooden stool placed in the room for this purpose and began to exchange his cloth gloves for latex ones.
“Of course not,” Ciel huffed, appropriately affronted. “I ask only to know whether I need to make contingency plans if you cannot fulfill your duties.”
Sebastian had to bite back a growl at the suggestion. “You need not worry about that, sir.” The idea of Ciel trusting anyone else with his safety was appalling to him for reasons he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore just yet. Although knowing his young master, when he did so would not be entirely up to him.
Ciel hummed, tracing a pattern in the water with his fingers. “I suppose not. You proved that well enough.”
Sebastian’s hackles lowered and he readied the soap. He felt sharp, searching eyes on him and knew that his master was not ready to let the subject drop.
“Show it to me.” Ciel held Sebastian’s gaze this time. His jaw was set in that stubborn way of his, when there was no talking him out of a decision. Sebastian used to find it annoying. “Your wound. I should like to see it.”
Sebastian hesitated. The idea of showing his master evidence of his failure, of having him look directly upon his vulnerability did not sit well with him. “May I ask why?”
“No,” Ciel said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well? Get on with it.”
The sigil on his hand burned mildly at his indirect disobedience. “I would rather not,” he admitted.
Ciel narrowed his eyes at him, analyzing. Sebastian wasn’t sure what he saw, but apparently it wasn’t convincing enough to warrant mercy. “It’s an order.” His marked eye glowed with the use of his power, ethereal and mesmerizing. Sebastian wished he got to see it more often.
It took the edge off the command, but only slightly. He set the soap aside, moving on instinct, and began to disrobe the top half of his body. “As you wish.” Slowly but surely he bared the skin of his chest and the obvious purple-red slice through the middle of it. Sebastian’s body was still fighting with the inherent qualities of a wound from a Death Scythe, healing far slower than any other wound he’d incurred before.
Ciel watched him, his face mostly blank until he finally saw the wound in all its glory. He let out a small gasp, eyebrows raising and then pulling together. He reached a hand out slowly, still dripping, reaching for Sebastian.
The demon moved so he was within arm’s reach, and soon warm, wrinkled fingertips were brushing over where he was damaged. Ciel’s touch was almost ticklishly light and Sebastian wondered when he’d last been touched so gently. Ciel traced the rough outline of the wound which had scabbed over, eventually bringing his other hand up as well. A small push signaled him to turn around so Ciel could repeat his exploration of the wound’s mirror twin on his back.
Sebastian dug his nails hard into his palms and fought to keep his fangs from emerging. Restless energy buzzed under his skin in response to this new experience. Part of him wished the boy would dig his nails hard into the soft center of the wound and push and push, until he was again pierced through.
Ciel did not do that, but he did press harder. Sebastian couldn’t help his sharp intake of breath at the dull pain. Ciel’s hands retracted entirely and Sebastian immediately mourned their loss. He made sure to fix his face before he turned around once more, schooling it back to neutrality.
“So it does still hurt,” Ciel said pointedly.
“Only a little,” Sebastian admitted, feeling a bit too raw to side-step the accusation.
Ciel’s eyes dropped down again, staring openly like he was trying to convince himself what he was seeing was real. “I didn’t…” He swallowed and Sebastian almost swore he saw a gleam in his eyes. “I didn’t realize you could get hurt like this.”
Sebastian bowed his head. “Again, I apologize for my incompetence.” His head snapped up when he felt a small slap against his cheek. Now Ciel just looked angry.
“That’s not—you’re insufferable.” He clicked his tongue. “I order you to stop apologizing for being injured. It’s annoying.”
Sebastian felt the sizzle of the command pass over him, and found himself smiling once more. “Yes, my lord. I simply hate to inconvenience you.”
“You’re inconveniencing me now.”
Sebastian chuckled, earning himself another glare. “Do you have any further orders, or shall we proceed with the bath?” At this rate he’d need to re-warm the water for a second time.
Ciel hesitated. His eyes refused to settle on anything for more than few moments, flicking from Sebastian to the water, to the lights, to the stool and back around again. He was thinking hard about something, although he rarely showed it so clearly in his expression. Sebastian could smell something like anxiety emanating from him. He waited patiently, curiosity piqued.
“Get in,” Ciel finally said, firm as always in his resolve, regardless of the path he took to get there. “Get in with me.”
His master was full of surprises tonight. Sebastian opened his mouth and then closed it. He was a bit at a loss for how to approach such a request. He could dissuade Ciel of the notion that demons enjoyed warm baths the way humans did, or inform him that he didn’t need to bathe at all. He could always be as clean as he wanted to be, if he put the effort in to think about it. He could play his role as he ought to, thank his master for the kind offer and assure him that he could bathe later in the servant’s quarters.
Sebastian felt the ghost of Ciel’s hands on his skin and gave in to his own desires. “Alright.” Ciel looked shocked briefly, likely anticipating an argument, but that didn’t last long. “Shall I get in like this, or should I finish undressing?”
“Don’t be daft. No one gets into the bath with shoes and trousers on.”
“I simply wish to insure your comfort.”
“Don’t coddle me,” Ciel scolded. “Take your bloody pants off and get in already.”
He did as he was told, noting that Ciel was now looking anywhere but at him. Probably to be expected. He didn’t know what Ciel wanted from this, if he was testing his own boundaries or Sebastian’s. (If it was the latter, he would likely be disappointed. He put on a good show in front of polite company, but Sebastian was not particularly fond of boundaries as a rule.) Either way, at the moment Sebastian looked like a naked man, an image which he knew haunted Ciel’s nightmares to that day.
But it wasn’t Sebastian’s place to stop Ciel from pushing himself. He’d asked, and so the demon would take him at his word, as he always did.
Sebastian pulled the stool to the other end of the bath so it would be within reach and slowly stepped into the tub, sinking into the water and onto the hard porcelain. He could not really feel the temperature of the water. It was the same as air to him. The tub was large and Ciel was small, but neither of these facts were enough to allow complete avoidance of contact. It felt undignified, but Sebastian sat with his knees up so only the sides of their feet brushed together.
He stared across the tub at his contractor until the boy met his eyes. He was tense and his heartrate had increased substantially, rabbiting away inside his chest. Still, he forced himself to look, running his eyes over demon’s form. Ciel moved one of his feet slightly, brushing his toes against Sebastian’s ankle. Sebastian simply smiled at him, pleased with this strange turn of events.
“It’s strange seeing you like this,” Ciel said, slowly extending one leg along the side of the tub until his toes bumped against Sebastian’s hip. “Without the uniform.”
Sebastian could not say the same. Every day he completed the ritual of replacing Ciel’s own costume in the morning, armoring him for the day, and then peeling it away again at night, revealing the boy behind the earl. “I would imagine so. Very few noblemen would invite a servant to share a bath with them. How very scandalous.” Sebastian captured Ciel’s bony ankle, spidering his fingers further down the limb until he could stroke the uncalloused surface of his sole, digging his thumb into the skin.
Ciel bared his teeth and snatched his leg back. “You’re foul. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Sebastian laughed. “You may find that the more you strip me down, the less inhibited I may be compelled to behave. You may find me even less tolerable than usual.”
The tips of Ciel’s ears tuned pink and his eyes wandered off across the tiles again. “Do not presume to tell me how I feel.”
Hunger roiled in Sebastian’s abdomen and he dug his own fingers hard into his wound until it ached. He doubted his desire was entirely stowed away again when Ciel looked back.
“Shall we continue with your bath?” Sebastian asked. As fun as this was, he did still want to see Ciel clean and dry and properly put to bed for the night.
Ciel nodded, then frowned. “How do you suggest we go about that?”
Apparently the little earl hadn’t thought that part through. Pity. “It would be easiest if you were to come here,” Sebastian said, his voice low and sweet. “And sit.” He gestured to his lap.
Ciel balked, predictably, but did not falter or recede into his memories as Sebastian thought he might. Instead he sat with the consequences of his own actions. He wasn’t stupid. This was the only logical way to complete the task now that they were both in the bath. “Are you…entirely human right now?” he finally asked.
Sebastian smiled widely. Not in the least. “Is the young master inquiring about my genitalia?” The look he received in reply was almost flat enough to mask the embarrassment lurking beneath. “You could have looked earlier and answered your own question.”
“Either answer the question or I’m getting out,” Ciel announced, visibly flustered.
Sebastian didn’t want him to do that, so he pulled back. “I find it best to make things as realistic as possible. I never know if I’ll find myself stripped naked in my master’s basement, faking death to help clear him of a murder charge.”
A corner of Ciel’s lips quirked up at the invocation of the shared memory. “I suppose that makes sense.” Bolstered slightly by the change in topic, Ciel appeared to consider it again.
He eyed him warily, his gaze drifting down to where the pearlescent water covered what laid below Sebastian’s waist. He could imagine what he was thinking. His master knew the possible consequences of sitting on a man’s lap better than most his age. However, Sebastian was not really a man.
“I can make it so it will not react normally,” Sebastian assured him, deciding to simply remove the roadblock entirely. “It will remain inert.”
Ciel’s face flushed darker red and he looked off to the side. It was quite cute.
“You invited me to join you,” Sebastian reminded him.
That earned him a glare. “And I could just as easily order you out.”
“Of course,” Sebastian agreed, then let the silence stretch. He watched Ciel’s conflicted expression as he argued with himself and wondered again if this would have gone differently before their latest mission. Was it because he perceived Sebastian as injured, weakened, that he was allowing this blurring of boundaries? Or was it something else?
Finally, Ciel set his jaw and spat out, “Fine.” He approached with caution, slow enough that the water only lazily lapped at the sides of the tub. Sebastian remained frozen where he was, unmoving, doing his best not to show his teeth in his grin.
Soon enough he had a lapful of earl. The boy’s spindly limbs slid against his own, soft and tender from the warm water, velvety as the petals of a flower. The points of his vertebrae pressed into Sebastian’s chest, a permanent fixture on his master’s body despite his butler’s not insignificant efforts toward feeding him properly. If he focused, Sebastian could feel the roughened patch of skin that was the brand, alien amongst the otherwise perfectly smooth canvas of his body.
Ciel was tense, not completely relaxing. His bottom was, inevitably, resting near the offending object in question, but true to his word, Sebastian kept it flaccid. He didn’t need an erection to enjoy the warm weight in his lap, or to savor being so titillatingly close to what would eventually be his in totality.
He picked up the wash cloth and dipped it in the soapy water, running it down the elegant curve of his master’s shoulder, same as he always did. The boy’s fingers slowly began to uncurl from where they’d been clutching the sides of the tub, and the demon felt him let out a small breath.
“Is it alright?” he asked, unable to help himself. At least it was no longer necessary to hide his smirk.
The boy knocked his foot against his irritably. “Would I still be here if it wasn’t?”
Despite their novel position, it was easy to fall into the familiar rhythm of bathing his master. Ciel settled further in response, allowing all of his small amount of weight to rest against his butler’s chest. Sebastian sketched out the shapes that made up this improbable human with his wash cloth, tracing the lines of his limbs, taking stock.
He frowned at the bruises still marring Ciel’s skin, staining a usually pristine canvas. The worst of it was around his ankle. That had been dealt with immediately, and it was healing adequately. Just a bad sprain, not a full break. It was still tender when Sebastian ghosted his fingertips over the damaged area. Ciel hissed but didn’t pull away.
Discontent scratched at the inside of his chest at the sight of all these unfamiliar marks. Marks that Ciel didn’t ask for. Marks that weren’t his.
“Lean back,” he said, trying to distract himself by washing Ciel’s hair.
The earl hummed in contentment and pushed his head back into Sebastian’s working fingers. The action was placating and he spent far more time than necessary massaging soap into his master’s scalp.
“It will be easier for you to rinse if you turn around,” Sebastian said, pleased when he was met with no protest.
Ciel turned around to face him, the knobs of his knees pressing into the sides of his hips, trapping him in a fragile cage. His eyes were hazy from exhaustion, unfocused in the way they only were when he managed to let his mind rest for a spell. They regained some clarity when he blinked, looking down at Sebastian’s hands.
He frowned. “Why are you still wearing those?”
Sebastian hadn’t even noticed he’d left the latex gloves on. “Just habit, I suppose.”
Ciel shook his head and took hold of one of his hands before he could protest. He wiggled his fingers into the glove, the tips wrinkled from soaking for so long, the nails grown out nearly enough to need cutting. He pressed the pads of his fingers into Sebastian’s palm, the elastic material pressing their hands together, and worked to pull it off. One after the other, Ciel peeled away that final barrier with solemn determination, throwing the gloves aside carelessly.
He kept Sebastian’s left hand after freeing it, scrutinizing it. He ran a finger over the black nails, then moved to stroke his thumb over top of the contract sigil. He traced it methodically and Sebastian clenched his teeth, fighting to keep still, to keep his claws from manifesting. Then Ciel changed tactics and dug his sharp little nails into the skin. Jolts of dangerous heat ran up his arm, down into his gut, and Sebastian was forced to pull back.
Ciel blinked, hands hovering in the air, and looked up at him like he had no idea what he’d been doing. “You’re making this difficult for me, my lord,” Sebastian admitted.
The boy blinked a few more times before comprehension flooded his face, along with a fresh pink blush. Still, he tutted at the demon as if he’d been the one doing the teasing and replied, “It’s only fair, seeing how difficult you make things for me constantly,” sharp as ever.
The demon couldn’t help but feel fond. “Lean back and rinse your hair.”
The human did as he was told, arching backwards like a swan, baring his neck so entirely and cavalierly that it made the demon’s teeth ache. He could see the pulse of blood through his blue veins, hot and tempting.
“Is it sensitive?” Ciel asked, sitting back up.
It took Sebastian a moment too long to recompose himself and reply. His master was asking about the sigil. “Not usually.” Only for you went unsaid. It would probably be alarming, if Sebastian were to quantify them, how many things to which that statement applied.
Ciel accepted the half-answer and stretched his arms above his head, screwing his eyes closed.
“Ready to get out?” Sebastian asked.
Ciel hesitated before nodding.
“Very well. Please hold on.”
Sebastian scooped the young lord up and stepped out of the bath. Ciel’s arms came up to clamp around his neck and he protested the man-handling into his shoulder half-heartedly. Sebastian set him back down soon after to towel him dry.
He tucked this experience away for further contemplation in the future. He could still feel the mild sting of Ciel’s nails in the back of his hand.
He retrieved Ciel’s nightshirt from where it had been waiting on the counter, wrapping his young master in the soft cotton. He took a knee once more to do up the buttons in easy, practiced motions.
“Will it scar?” Ciel asked. He was looking at the wound again.
“No,” Sebastian said. “I have no desire to leave a scar visible on this form. Once it has healed further, I will be able to rid myself of it for good.”
Ciel pursed his lips. “And in your true form? Do you scar?”
“Not in the way you’re imagining.”
“Would you heal faster if you were in it?”
Sebastian considered that. He hadn’t thought much about it. “Your focus is on strange topics tonight, my lord.”
Ciel looked off over his shoulder, out toward the rest of the room. “I suppose so.” He looked back down at Sebastian with an expression the demon couldn’t quite decode. Then, he suddenly turned and made to exit the room. “I’m hungry. Bring me some soup and tea.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but relax somewhat in the face of his little lord acting more like his usual self. Not that he minded the rare appearance of his master with some of his walls down. He stood, remembering only then that he was still undressed.
He smirked and trailed after his master, unwilling to squander the opportunity. He found him climbing into his bed.
“Shall I go like this or do I have permission to redress?”
Ciel spun and choked when he caught sight of him. “You—!” He spun completely, showing Sebastian his back. "Put some clothes on first, obviously!”
Sebastian laughed. “Yes, my lord.”
Soon after, things reverted back to normalcy. Ciel sat in his bed, inhaling his bowl of soup with a gusto that made his demon proud, while Sebastian stood, in uniform once more, minding the kettle on the tea cart. When the tea was properly steeped, he poured a cup and, deciding to be a bit indulgent, added honey before it could be requested.
He walked the cup over to Ciel who took it and drank, meeting his eyes knowingly when he lowered the cup back to the dish. Sebastian just cleared away his bowl.
“You will rest after this, yes?” Ciel asked, although it was less a question and more a demand, if not quite an order.
“If my master commands it of me.” A thought crossed his mind then. As soon as it was fully-formed, he couldn’t deny how tempting it was. Before tonight, he would have likely forced it down, cast it aside. But things had shifted, and he was curious to find where the new lines were drawn, where the pieces now stood on the board. “Although…”
Ciel’s gaze over his teacup was unamused.
“If you are grateful, or see fit to reward my performance, you might instead ask what I would like.”
“What you would like,” Ciel echoed. He seemed to consider it as he took another sip. If Sebastian had a heart, it would be beating faster.
The earl sighed. “Although I suspect I will regret asking, what is it that you want?”
Sebastian smiled. “I would like to wipe all traces of that horrid boat and that disgusting creature from you, until you are exactly as you should be.” Mine, and mine alone.
Ciel rubbed his thumb over the filigree adorning the sides of the dish he held, uncertain. “How do you propose to do that?”
“You’d have to simply trust me.” At the withering look he received, Sebastian added, “With this, at least.”
Ciel held out his empty teacup for Sebastian to take. “Your terms are far too vague.”
He supposed that was true, but he wasn’t willing to go further in detail from the start. “What do you propose?”
“A trade,” Ciel said, confident as he always was when negotiating business deals. “You may do as you wish for fifteen minutes. In exchange, you will tell me why you wish to do such a thing in the first place, and you will show me your true form.”
Sebastian was taken aback by the request. His true, demonic form did not exactly make for a pleasant viewing experience for humans. He’d painstaking cultivated near perfect control over his form over centuries, and he was quite proud of his ability. No contractor had tested that control quite like Ciel, so to suddenly give up entirely was not very appealing.
“What do you hope to gain by seeing it?” Sebastian asked. “I promise, it will not be an enjoyable experience.”
Ciel worried the edge of the comforter covering his lower half between his fingers, and shrugged a shoulder. “I simply wish to verify you are not passing off your injury as less serious than it truly is.”
“I am not,” Sebastian insisted. “I cannot lie to you.”
Ciel’s expression turned annoyed. He huffed and chewed on whatever his real reasoning was for a long stretch of silence. Sebastian watched him the whole time, curious in spite of himself.
“Fine. Perhaps it is because I wish to see all of you. Tonight I’ve realized there’s much of you I don’t know. I would like to correct that.”
Sebastian shivered in response to the declaration. The idea of showing all of himself went entirely against his nature. He was a creature of deception, and he survived by hiding what he really was. His master was asking him to bare his neck.
“You are unlikely to like what you see,” he said.
“Whether I like it or not is not important.”
Sebastian disagreed, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no outright. Part of him wondered why he was putting up any resistance. Perhaps because it went against his nature to reveal himself in such a way, or because no contractor had asked such a thing of him before this one. He was a vain creature, and his butler aesthetic was meticulously maintained. It was one thing for Ciel to understand what he was, and another for him to see it.
“I won’t order it,” Ciel added, watching Sebastian with curious, intelligent eyes. “This is a trade. You merely have to decide whether what you’d receive is worth what you’d give up.”
Sebastian shook his head. “It’s a bit redundant to lecture a demon on the basics of contract formation, don’t you think?”
Ciel only shrugged. “Make your choice.”
The demon looked at the small human before him, sitting tall and regal on the soft cushion of his bed. This contractor who had become more than a simple soul to him—although what a soul it was. So rarely did he find himself on what he considered equal footing with another being.
Sometimes, more often recently, it felt like Ciel had infected him, altering him intrinsically in ways he had yet to fully realize. He consumed his waking thoughts, his future plans, his own desires. That this soul had so much power over him should have been aggravating, unbearable, but it was only thrilling. It was so rare that he found himself unable to predict the outcome of a situation. It made him eager to accept each new challenge, to step forward and see what happened next.
Even now, his master was giving him leeway, a way out. What sort of human made considerations for a demon’s comfort?
One that had been severely wronged and broken by his fellow humans to the point that he summoned a being from hell for something to hold onto. One that returned willingly to a difficult, unhappy life for the sake of revenge. One that took time to press his soft palm to his demon’s wound while surrounded by enemies on a sinking ship. One that invited a demon into his bath and traced the sigil on his hand as if it were something precious. One that asked to see all of him.
“I will show you.”
Ciel perked up, eyes visibly brightening. “It’s a deal then.” He offered his hand to shake, a funny little gesture, and Sebastian couldn’t help but take it and kiss his knuckles instead.
Ciel took a small, sharp breath in, drawing his hand back toward his heart. “And my question?” he asked, refusing to be derailed.
Sebastian smiled with all his teeth. He knew his pupils were slitted, the color of his irises no longer passably human, but he didn’t care. This is what he’d asked for. “To remind you and any other being that dares to lay a hand on you that every last bit of you is mine.”
***
Ciel could not deny the trickles of heat that ran through him at the demon’s answer. That had been happening more often as of late, and he hoped tonight he might finally get to the bottom of it.
He was relieved to be home again after the disastrous Campania incident, but he couldn’t make his mind completely settle. He had no idea how he was going to explain what had happened to the Queen. Rian Stoker might be dead, but plenty other members of the Aurora Society had made it out alive, not the least of which was the Undertaker.
The thought made his skin prickle with anger and betrayal. Truly there was no one in this wretched world he could trust. They had no idea what the man’s ultimate goals were, nor what his next move would be. He was extremely dangerous and powerful.
Unimaginably powerful.
His conscious and unconscious minds both kept replaying the moment the Death Scythe had pierced through Sebastian’s body, blood erupting from him like a geyser. The moment itself was bad enough, but then the demon had kept bleeding. He’d been noticeably exhausted, enough that he couldn’t hide it. He could hardly stand when the rescue ship had reached them.
Nightmares had plagued him these past nights, as they often did, but they were populated with new images, new scenarios, ones where Sebastian did not get up, or he bled out in the life boat and left Ciel alone.
Truly alone.
He gasped himself awake, sweating and shaking, as he often did. The demon was none the wiser to the change in his nightmare’s contents. He was still by his bedside when he awoke, as usual, asking if Ciel needed anything because he’d been calling out for him in his sleep. Ciel thought that it was probably for the best.
He supposed it made sense that Sebastian would put himself in such extreme peril to protect him. That was the basis of their contract, in many ways. However, it was one thing to passively acknowledge it and another to see it. Until that night he’d always harbored the suspicion that there must be some sort of breaking point, some limit to what Sebastian would do for his soul.
Because that was what it was about. He had to remind himself. He couldn’t let himself forget. It was getting more difficult as time passed, and they went through more and more hardships together.
Ciel had seen Sebastian injured plenty of times, had seen him bleed, stain his fine tailcoat and starched white shirt. It never lasted longer than a handful of minutes. Ciel was under the impression that the demon could not physically sustain lasting damage, that it must be impossible. Obviously, he had been mistaken.
In the days following the ship’s sinking while they were forced to stay in an inn near port with the Midfords, subjected to endless, tedious interviews with incompetent detectives, Ciel found himself feeling something he had never felt for his butler before: worry. He found himself watching the man closely, searching for signs of weakness, holding his breath when he did anything remotely trying. It was quite annoying.
“Has anyone ever died while in contract with you? Before you could take their soul.” Ciel posed the question one night when they were alone, just before bed.
Sebastian had raised an eyebrow at him, but he had not avoided the question. “Yes. It’s been known to happen. If choices they make lead to their death, then there’s not much I can do.” He was bent down, pulling a wool sock up Ciel’s calf. The inn was not as well insulated as the manor, and Ciel had not been properly warm since his plunge in the Atlantic. “Very few contract holders are as thorough as you were when negotiating the terms.” Having said that, he looked up, catching Ciel’s eyes, one corner of his lips curled up.
“They were fools to trust a demon’s word,” Ciel replied, tucking his now-covered legs beneath himself.
“Yes, they were,” Sebastian agreed, lifting the covers on the bed in invitation.
Ciel had crawled beneath them, curling into himself in an attempt to conserve warmth. He watched Sebastian pick up the candle sitting by his bedside, and almost didn’t ask his next question. In the end, curiosity got the best of him.
“Have you ever been this injured before in the course of fulfilling a contract?”
Sebastian turned to look at him. His eyes glowed in the dark, inhuman, and after a pause a sharp smile split his face. “No,” he replied, simply. “Good night, young master.” With that, he blew out the candle and left the room.
Ciel laid in the dark, unnerved as some small, fluttering thing came to life in his chest. He did his best to choke it, but the warmth that sparked in his core from the new knowledge was more difficult to deny.
Unfortunately, it had set its roots and remained stubbornly present, a weed worming its way into Ciel’s thoughts and winding choking vines around his heart. He endeavored to ignore it, as he often did with things he attributed to pubescence. He had more important things to occupy his thoughts and time than the result of erratic hormones.
For the most part, he was successful. However, it was clear to him that the way he saw his butler had changed, and there was no undoing it. He did his best to harness the full force of his disdain toward these new feelings, labelling them juvenile and pointless.
Why would anyone want to be special to a demon?
If such a thing were even possible. Ciel told himself it wasn’t. Sebastian was here for one thing, and one thing only. The container where it was currently housed held no greater meaning to him. He’d do the same for another soul, another contract if that person had collared him as well as Ciel had.
It would be easier to put aside now that he was back at the manor. He’d have plenty to keep him occupied between catching up with paperwork for Funtom, drafting his report to the Queen, and beginning what would no doubt be a long, grueling search for the Undertaker. But, on this one last unusual night where he felt he could exist somewhat outside his usual earl persona, his exhaustion had got the best of him and he had begun to investigate the possibility that things were not quite so simple.
At the risk of having it held over his head later, he’d inquired after Sebastian’s personal existence in a way he never had before. He pushed the demon with new requests, forcing him to step beyond his well-practiced butler role and seeing what lay beyond. And now here they were, a new deal struck between them. The deal may have been different, but Sebastian was looking at him with almost a surprising amount of hunger.
Ciel swallowed and pressed his thighs together. The demon had crept closer, moving silently, unnaturally, until he was almost looming over him.
“May I begin?” he asked, candlelight glinting off his too-sharp teeth.
Ciel had no idea what it was the demon planned to do. He nodded his consent anyway.
Sebastian reached out and slowly pulled the covers off his legs. The hearth was lit, but the air of the room was still cooler without them and Ciel felt goosebumps sprout over his bared skin. The demon moved closer still, setting one knee on the mattress and leaning down toward him. Ciel’s heart leapt in his chest, a natural prey reaction to a predator, and he instinctively closed his eyes.
The next thing he felt was hot, moist breath on his neck. He jumped when Sebastian pushed the cold, sharp tip of his nose into his skin and inhaled deeply, pressing under his jaw. Ciel cracked his eyes open to a head of dark hair and his butler crouching over him. After a moment, Sebastian moved again. Ciel flinched, but he soon realized the demon was simply rubbing his cheek against him, right where his mouth had been. He completed the motion several times before moving to the other side and repeating the process.
Ciel blinked, baffled, his hands hovering over Sebastian’s back, tempted to hold on. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Sebastian moved down to the divot in his clavicle, and this time Ciel could feel the sharp edge of his teeth pressing in, followed by something warm and wet, the lightest brush of a tongue. Then again there was the same rubbing motion.
It was vaguely familiar and Ciel pulled at the memory like a fishing line until he could grab hold of it. A cat, he realized. Sebastian was rubbing his face on him like a cat.
Marking him.
Oh.
Ciel let his hands lower, one on Sebastian’s broad upper back, one against the back of his neck. The realization made heat rise to his cheeks. “Marking your territory, dog?” Ciel whispered, mildly irritated by how wispy his voice sounded.
Sebastian looked up at him. His eyes were very dark and somewhat unfocused. They drifted down from his eyes to his neck and chest. “I do not think if I were to mark my territory like a dog that you would be so willing.”
Ciel hummed noncommittally, not willing to put in the effort to unravel the innuendo. He found himself already missing the light, claiming touches he’d been receiving. “An animal is an animal all the same.” Sebastian met his eyes again, waiting. “Well? Continue.”
To his delight, Sebastian did. He trailed down the curve of his shoulder, and back up, tolerating the fabric of his nightshirt but mostly seeking skin. Ciel curled his fingers into the wool of Sebastian’s waistcoat, enduring the soft, teasing friction he was given. At some point, Sebastian turned his face and he was given the plush press of his lips instead. Ciel couldn’t help but inhale sharply, burying his hand in silky obsidian and pulling him closer. Sebastian had been hovering at first, but he began to slowly ease further down into Ciel, not crushing but pressing. It still made it hard to breathe.
He did consistently ensure that the lower half of his body was not resting on Ciel even slightly. Ciel wondered if he was still honoring their agreement from earlier, in the bath, dutiful in that way he only was when he knew it would be aggravating to his master. Although, if that were true there would be no need for such avoidance. Ciel wondered if the demon was finding pleasure in this. He wondered if the member he’d seen briefly between his legs when he’d emerged from the bathroom, still naked, and felt flaccid beneath him when he’d sat in his lap had grown hard and demanding. He wondered how it would feel pressed against him in this state, even through clothes, physical evidence of the man’s desire. He wondered if he might like it.
The first true scratch of teeth came when Sebastian undid the first few buttons of his nightshirt to gain access to the skin of his chest. It was a light graze, not enough to break the skin of an apple, but it made Ciel jump and blood rush between his legs. Sebastian made a low, rumbling sound in his chest in response and soothed the hurt with the shocking wet heat of his tongue. Ciel bit back a whimper. Sebastian shifted over him, settling between his legs, and if there was more space for him there than there had been before, Ciel didn’t know anything about it.
Ciel thought he might continue his path downward but he didn’t. Instead he retreated back up to the pulse point in his neck. His brushed his lips along the line of his vein before opening his mouth to bite. Ciel could feel the points of his fangs. He yanked hard on Sebastian’s hair, hissing, his practical mind temporarily overriding anything else. “Do not leave visible marks on me, or you will regret it.”
Sebastian pulled back, head bowed. “Yes, sir.” He sat back onto his heels, and ran his eyes down his body, one greedy swipe after another. Ciel laid back and did his best not to squirm.
When he moved it was to take hold of Ciel’s leg and lift it up to his mouth. Ciel again felt the rush of air in and out as the demon nosed at him, before he opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the round bone of his uninjured ankle.
“Ah!” Ciel cried, attempting to pull his leg back.
Sebastian’s hold on it was firm, and he soon gave up. The pain was glancing and sharp, but Ciel found he didn’t mind it. When he was met with no further protest, Sebastian continued his path up his leg. He alternated between rubbing his cheek or his mouth, sometimes slightly open, over the skin, often going over an area more than once.
The further up he moved, the more sensitive Ciel felt. It was different being able to see it happen, to watch the quick, pink flash of his tongue, the white blade of his teeth, the way he closed his eyes when marking with his cheek. He grew increasingly close to where Ciel was aching, but diverted at the last moment, switching to the opposite leg, back down at his ankle.
He was gentler with this one, still visibly ringed in green and purple from his injury and tender. He could walk on it now, although Sebastian had been averse to letting him. Ciel was just grateful it wasn’t broken (it had felt like it in the moment). Healing or not, Sebastian held it like it was a fine porcelain dish he was polishing and grazed it with whispers of contact, light enough to be ticklish. The focused attention made Ciel feel a bit light-headed.
Ciel was half disappointed, half relieved by Sebastian’s last-second divergence. His mind was filled with a foreign, luxurious fog. He often couldn’t tolerate being touched. It was less a dislike, and more of an actual aversion. But this, well…he found himself wanting more. He wanted to be touched more, held tighter, wanted other amorphous things he didn’t have the words for. He wanted to be wanted, but only like this. And only by him.
He was brought back to the present by the feeling of Sebastian’s mouth on his inner thigh. That annoyingly handsome face was back between his legs again, and Ciel felt his prick twitch at the image. The quiet rumbling sound Sebastian had been making had become constant. Ciel could feel the vibrations from his chest when he wrapped his free leg around his waist.
“You’re purring,” Ciel laughed.
Sebastian only smiled into the crease between his thigh and pelvis. Then he opened his mouth wide and sank his teeth into the soft skin adjacent to his groin. Ciel yelped, feeling his skin break beneath the demon’s teeth. When he pulled back, there was blood for the first time, although Ciel only saw it briefly before Sebastian was bending down to lick it up.
Ciel whined, unable to help himself, dizzy with the onslaught of sensation, and bucked his hips up, reaching for something. Sebastian’s mouth was red when he pulled back. He was either ignoring or oblivious to Ciel’s need because he stretched out over him again, still fastidious in his positioning so as not to press his body against anything below Ciel’s waist, returning to his place beneath his jaw.
“I couldn’t stand the smell of him on you,” Sebastian growled. “You should only ever smell like me.”
It was possessive in a way that probably should have been off-putting, but Ciel just nodded, letting himself get a bit lost in it all.
Sebastian pressed one, two true kisses onto his neck before he was rolling them onto their sides. He wrapped a strong, heavy arm around Ciel and finally stilled, apparently satisfied with his work. (Ciel would not recall until later that it was he who had instated a time limit, and his butler was only adhering to that.)
Ciel could not say that he was entirely satisfied, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. All he could think to do was shimmy down so he could tuck himself under Sebastian’s chin instead. He stared at the expanse of pale skin before him for a long moment before he pressed his nose to it and inhaled.
His sense of smell was nowhere near as good as Sebastian’s, but he was around his butler enough and often close enough to him that he did associate him with a mixture of scents. Generally, he smelled like whatever he’d been doing most recently. Most commonly it was a mixture of fresh linens, silver polish, and flour, or some other baking ingredient. Right now he smelled like Ciel, like the bath water they’d shared, lavender and eucalyptus.
Ciel rubbed his cheek against the spot anyway. He then turned, opened his mouth, and bit down. Sebastian’s purr turned into a growl, and Ciel smirked, pleased with the reaction. Without warning, Sebastian rolled them again. He leered down at Ciel, the long pieces of his hair falling down alongside his face, hands on either side of Ciel’s head. His gaze was heavy, intentional.
He moved one to cup his chin, squeezing until Ciel opened his mouth. Ciel curled his lips up and bared his teeth. He panted, saliva pooling, and wrapped his hands around Sebastian’s wrist, digging his nails in hard. “You’re mine, too,” he spat.
Sebastian’s grip and expression slowly softened. He let go and Ciel closed his mouth, swallowing and trying to catch his breath. Some part of him wished Sebastian had stayed where he was, effectively pinning him.
He traced his thumb along the side of Ciel’s face, pausing to brush over his marked eye. Ciel shuddered at how gentle it was, at the whiplash experience of this creature.
His demon smiled at him. “Thank you for allowing that, my lord.”
Ciel looked up at him, still flushed and aroused. The demon’s words rang with a sort of finality, and Ciel did his best to accept it. He was far too proud to beg, or even draw attention to his desire, still so novel even to him. He crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to look unaffected. “I suppose it wasn’t terrible.”
Sebastian chuckled, shifting off of him again, back down onto his side. Ciel tried to surreptitiously smooth his nightshirt back down toward his knees, biting back disappointment. He searched his mind for a distraction and found one easily enough. He turned his head to look Sebastian in the eyes. “It’s my turn now.”
His butler’s expression reverted back to something like his usual semi-smug mask. “Are you certain? It really seems unnecessary.”
Ciel scowled, sitting up and leaning over the man. “Do not try to cheat me of what’s mine. We both agreed to this deal, now get on with it.”
Ciel sat back, crossing his legs and pulling the covers back over his laps. Irritating beast. Why was he so against showing himself?
He felt the bed shift as Sebastian sat up as well. He sighed. “Very well. Fair is fair.” There was a shuffling of fabric and Ciel peeked over out of the corner of his eye to find Sebastian shedding his tailcoat for the second time that night. He handed it to Ciel, who took it with some hesitation.
“Please put it on,” Sebastian requested, moving to get off the bed. “It will get quite cold.”
Ciel huffed. It seemed like he was trying to scare him. He put it on anyway, curling into the familiar fabric. When he looked up, Sebastian was standing at the foot of the bed, backlit by the light of the hearth. Ciel’s heart beat faster in anticipation.
“If at any time, you wish for me to stop simply say the word,” Sebastian told him, seeming almost nervous.
“Sebastian. It’s okay,” Ciel insisted. “I’m not afraid of you. I just want to see.”
Sebastian gave him a distrustful look, then took a quick breath in and out.
The shadows in the room shifted, elongating as though the source of light was being moved. The hearth went out with a hiss, leaving only moonlight and a few lit candles to light the room. Sebastian melted into the shadows, his form no longer distinguishable. There was movement in the center of the darkness.
Ciel pulled the blankets tighter around him. Sebastian was right; it had gotten quite cold. The air was heavy, dense the way it was right before a thunderstorm, pressing in against Ciel’s eardrums. He sat perfectly still and watched as a shape unfurled before him, just barely visible, black as night.
Then, Sebastian opened his eyes—all of them—and finally Ciel could begin to decipher what was in front of him.
It was still difficult. It was as though he couldn’t quite get his eyes to focus on all of Sebastian at once. His form was amorphous, but huge and imposing. He could make out several limbs, lined with red, staring eyes, tipped with razor sharp claws. Ciel couldn’t locate a distinct face, which was unnerving. The closest thing he could find was when Sebastian opened his mouth, giving Ciel a flash of fangs and a quick, black tongue.
Although he knew Sebastian was standing still, it felt like the creature was slowly moving closer, encroaching, encompassing. The shadows curled around him like smoke, stretching out in tendrils all around him as if inspecting the space. Ciel swallowed hard, forcing his face to remain neutral. It was clear that this wasn’t meant for human eyes. He fought back instinctive, human fear. He followed the glowing lines of red eyes, trying to count them and soon giving up. There was a distinctive flicker of movement, and he refocused on that.
It happened again, and again. A tail, Ciel realized. He looked closer, trying to decipher its shape, half expecting it to be spiked. It wasn’t. Instead it was long with a tuft of fur on the end, like a big cat.
Ciel let out a burble of laughter, and it only sounded a little hysterical.
The eyes blinked at him in askance.
“You have a tail,” Ciel said, his voice sinking into the dark, absorbed as soon as it was released.
Yes. The voice came from all around and in his head at the same time. That was more viscerally familiar. For a moment Ciel saw the cage and the blood and the masks—before he shook himself free. Sebastian had sounded this way to him that night too.
“I’m a little disappointed by the lack of horns,” Ciel said, mostly to hear Sebastian respond. It was difficult to connect this with his butler, to think of them as one when so little was similar. But his voice was the same.
I can make a pair for you, Sebastian said, if you’d like.
“You looked a bit more human when we first met,” Ciel said. It was only a vague memory, but he distinctly remembered Sebastian appearing more humanoid that night.
Yes. There are variations on this form that I can manifest. Without proper warning, this form could drive some men to insanity.
“What does that say about me?” Ciel wondered, surprised by his own lack of filter. Nothing felt especially real right now.
The shadows shifted again, moving like liquid. Ciel saw a tendril reach closer to him and held out a hand to receive it. It brushed against him, smooth and hard like ice before it dissipated into formless mist.
You are like no other human I have ever met, Sebastian responded. You truly aren’t afraid. The voice sounded awed.
Ciel shook his head. He held both hands out. “Come closer.”
Quiet laughter rang through his head. Yes, my lord.
The darkness shifted, moving like falling sand. Two heavy limbs dug vicious wounds into his mattress, making the bed creak. The shadows seemed to envelop Ciel, wrapping around him completely, running over him like water. He realized that he was floating, held up off the bed by a few inches.
There was something he liked about it, being held so entirely. He closed his eyes and relaxed into it, letting Sebastian hold him up. It was so entirely quiet. Cold, but he’d mostly gotten used to that. He felt more tendrils venturing up and around his legs, curling around his waist, brushing through his hair. When he opened his eyes again, there was only one pair of familiar eyes looking back at him. They were the only source of light visible, aside from the faint purple glow from his own eye.
Something about that singular focus brought the heat from before rushing back unexpectedly. The idea of being completely surrounded, consumed in a way, made him want again. He hissed and shifted, seeking friction. One of the tendrils brushed over where Sebastian had bit him before straying in the right direction. Just the slightest brush felt like an electric shock. “Sebastian.”
My, my. The voice was warm and silky. He sounded like he did when he was flirting with women to get information out of them. The thought made Ciel’s cock ache. I thought you might see me differently after this, but it seems that’s not the case.
The tendrils curling around him solidified slightly, wrapping around him possessively, too many touches at once for him to be able to focus on any one. One dipped below his tailbone, squeezing the flesh there and making him squeak.
Finally, Ciel found his voice again. He couldn’t take this anymore. “Finish what you started, demon,” he demanded, breathless and terribly turned on.
It would be my pleasure. One of the tendrils squeezing his thigh diverged from the others and solidified fully, moving and pressing up until finally it was where Ciel needed it most. Ciel ground down against it, relieved to find that it stayed put. He groaned in relief and started up a frantic, desperate rhythm. The tendril moved languidly between his legs, perfect counter-pressure. He felt flayed open, unraveled like an unfinished edge of a sweater. His hips moved of their own accord. Later he would be surprised that the instinct still lay dormant within him somewhere.
Sebastian was everywhere, all around him, pressing against him, and he was breathing him in, and he wanted more, something, everything—
But for now this was enough. He rolled his hips one final time and then all the pressure inside him released. It was almost enough to be painful. He knew he was crying out his demon’s name, and he couldn’t stop himself. Tears gathered hot in his eyes, and he surrendered.
Ciel wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but by the time he managed to return to himself and open his eyes he was no longer surrounded by darkness. Instead, Sebastian was curled around him, back in his human form, looking up at him with fiery eyes and slitted pupils.
Slowly Ciel relaxed into the mattress and curled his arms around the demon’s back. He felt oddly embarrassed and unsure what to say. He thought he would feel sticky and uncomfortable, the way he did when he woke up some mornings and his dreaming mind had been wandering, but he didn’t. Sebastian must have taken care of it, one way or another, and he could admit that he was grateful.
“You smell even better now, I have to admit,” Sebastian said into his stomach.
Ciel felt his face flush. “Quiet, dog,” he muttered. He stared up at the canopy, trying to process what had happened without much success. The adrenaline had been keeping him awake, but now he was well and truly exhausted. His limbs felt heavy and it was difficult to keep his eyes open.
“Thank you,” he said before he could think too much about it. “For letting me see.”
Sebastian moved, sliding so they were face to face again. “Thank you,” he echoed, teeth still far sharper than they ought to be. “For letting me see.”
Ciel pushed at his face, not wanting to see the smug expression. “You’d do well not to make me wait so long again.”
“The waiting is what made it so good.”
Ciel glared, but unfortunately could not bring himself to retort. It had been good, and strange, and exactly what he needed. He was interrupted by a yawn he couldn’t fight down. He spared a thought toward reciprocation, but Sebastian didn’t seem like he was expecting anything. Outside of his aroused state, the thought made something squirm in his guts. Perhaps he was not quite ready to cross that particular bridge, and perhaps that was alright.
“I do believe it is far past time for you to go to bed, master,” Sebastian said, straightening up. He brushed Ciel’s bangs back into place and then moved to do the buttons of his shirt back up.
Reluctantly, Ciel allowed him to retrieve his tailcoat from his body and tuck him into bed with an air of finality. The demon stood and snuffed out the few remaining candles around the room, leaving only the one next to his bedside. He approached again, coat tucked over his arm. “Is there anything else you require, sir?”
Ciel fought with himself briefly over his next words. Ultimately, he knew he couldn’t bear Sebastian simply leaving him alone for the rest of the night. He reached over and flipped up the corner of the blankets Sebastian had just folded down. “Why are you acting like you’re going somewhere?”
Sebastian grinned, setting his coat aside and beginning to undo the buttons of his vest. “I didn’t want to assume.”
Ciel didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead he watched Sebastian undress this time. He continued until he was down to his trousers and shirt, then blew out the final candle before climbing into the bed beside Ciel.
Ciel waited a moment before allowing himself to curl around his demon, climbing half on top of his chest. He could still imagine the outline of the wound from before, damning both of them with what it meant. He raised his head and found Sebastian looking back at him, as he almost always was. Ciel’s gaze drifted down, remembering the feeling of those lips on his skin. He knew what they were hiding, had proof of it still stinging on his thigh. They were a pretty distraction from the danger, just like all of Sebastian.
He craned his neck up and kissed him before he lost his nerve, then ducked back down into the warm crook of his armpit. “If you say anything annoying, I’ll order you to manifest your tail so I can pull it.”
Sebastian’s laughter rumbled under him. “How could I in the face of such a threat.”
Ciel pressed up against the solid form of his butler, soaking in the warmth he was emitting and knowing that he was doing it on purpose, for his benefit. He emerged from his hiding spot to run a careful hand over Sebastian’s chest.
Sebastian’s hand came to cover his, engulfing it entirely, bare skin to bare skin. “We will find him, and we will end him. He will not lay a hand on you ever again.” His voice was low and dangerous.
Ciel wasn’t so sure it would be that easy, but he nodded. “Heal first, then worry about that.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Ciel yawned again. He noticed that his mind was blessedly quiet at the moment. He felt very warm and very safe, despite the lingering threats. His eyes slipped closed. “Stay here,” he murmured. “Stay with me until morning. Don’t leave.”
He felt the sigil in his eye tingle with warmth in an oddly pleasant way. “Always. I will stay with you until the very end.” It sounded far less like a threat than it used to.
Ciel wasn’t sure what the night had changed, if anything, or what the things they’d bared meant for their relationship, but that night he dreamt only of floating in a calm, dark sea, and he awoke the next morning in the warm embrace of his demon. He had no doubt that he was not meant for happiness, but in that moment, pressing the pads of his fingers into the source of the dull ache at the apex of his thigh, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied with what he had.