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When Sebastian’s touch starts to wander, Ciel does not stop him.
The first time, it felt like the natural progression of things. Sebastian had been taking care of him for over two years. Impeccable care. Every need was attended to before Ciel ever recognized it as a need in the first place. Food was brought when he was hungry, a bath was drawn when he was tired, and a hand was offered when he was restless. After two years of such perfect care, Ciel had grown used to Sebastian’s presence as an extension of his own body. He stopped curling into himself when his clothes were changed or his hair was washed, and shortly after that the demon’s touch was expected. Welcome, even.
Yes, it was the natural progression of things indeed.
Now, it’s part of the routine along with making his tea and brushing his hair. After eating the dinner that Sebastian prepares, after slipping into the warm water that Sebastian draws, after relinquishing himself of all the sweat and aches that Sebastian washes away, Ciel tilts his head back against the tub and closes his eyes. Sebastian knows how to take care of the rest.
As expected, once the suds are rinsed away, a latexed hand sinks below the water. Fingers wrap around him, and it’s all very clinical how precise Sebastian is about it. Perfect strokes at the perfect pace bring Ciel to the edge in no time at all. He parts his lips to pant in the humidity of the bathroom, imagining nothing in particular behind his eyelids, because it feels good enough on its own. He doesn’t need anything more than a channel to focus a little pent-up energy through, which Sebastian provides as dutifully as everything else.
Sighing out a blissful exhale, Ciel waits for the climax to dull down into a sedating throb that pulses throughout the rest of his body. Sebastian releases his softening length and pulls the plug to drain the tub. And just like that, it’s over before the water has even pondered the idea of getting cold.
Wrapped up in a warm towel, Ciel sits at the vanity and watches the reflection of Sebastian combing his damp hair. Specifically, he watches Sebastian’s hands, the gloves for which have been swapped back to the standard cotton ones. His fingers grip the comb so elegantly, the same way they wield the cutlery used for killing, or how they wring the pleasure out of Ciel so that he may have an easier time falling asleep at night.
“Your schedule for tomorrow,” Sebastian announces in the quiet, “is packed full of various meetings to finalize the details for this Sunday’s banquet.”
Ciel hums in acknowledgement, averting his eyes when Sebastian takes the towel to replace it with a nightgown. The few seconds between leave him feeling a touch too cold.
“I trust you’ll have a good night’s sleep?” Sebastian asks as Ciel climbs into bed.
“Worried I’ll blame you if I don’t?” Ciel replies, eyebrows raised.
Sebastian stands next to the bed and places a hand over his heart. In the other, he holds a four-pronged candelabra. The little flames dance in synchronization, their shadows thrown over Sebastian’s shoulder and casting the walls in a warm glow.
Head bowed forward, Sebastian smiles. “A butler should always make sure his master’s schedule remains as balanced as possible, awake or otherwise.”
“As long as you’re not wishing me sweet dreams,” Ciel huffs and rolls over.
“Only if you wish to hear it,” comes Sebastian’s smooth voice. Ciel closes his eyes again and surrenders to his exhaustion. He knows Sebastian will stay until he falls asleep, and he is easily lulled by the kiss of warmth that radiates from the candles.
The next day, after the seemingly endless string of meetings with far too boisterous vendors, Ciel can’t wait to get into the bath. Not just for the relaxing heat of the water and some sorely missed peace and quiet, but also for more of Sebastian’s magic touch.
He impatiently counts the minutes it takes for Sebastian to wash his hair and the rest of his body. By the time that one hand slips down to where he actually wants it, he’s already hard. He almost misses the amused breath that escapes Sebastian’s lips when he feels it if not for how closely he’s leaning next to Ciel’s ear. The water reaches all the way up to Sebastian’s elbow, nearly lapping at the fabric of his rolled sleeve.
“I apologize for not attending to this sooner,” Sebastian teases, certainly not sorry at all. “Your schedule left little time between meetings.”
Normally, Ciel leans back and keeps his eyes closed for this part. Tonight, though, he remains sitting forward and watches Sebastian’s reflection once again, this time within the ripples that push through the water with the same rhythm of his hand.
“It’s not as if it would have made the day go by any faster.” And Ciel has never been so desperate as to ask for it. He won’t be starting now.
Mercifully, Sebastian doesn’t challenge the thought. They usually don’t talk during these moments, and that is another thing Ciel does not feel inclined to change at the moment. He loses focus on Sebastian’s reflection and instead peers at what’s happening below the surface of the water. The hand around his cock envelops him completely. The latex, while soft enough, prevents him from appreciating the full heat of Sebastian’s skin. His bare shoulders feel cold despite how close Sebastian is. They aren’t touching anywhere but that very central point between Ciel’s hips. It could be so much warmer if only Sebastian were to lean forward a bit more.
Ciel holds his breath, listening to Sebastian’s instead. Perfectly slow, perfectly measured. Nothing like how Ciel is feeling, with his heart beating harder and harder as he aches for release. What would it take to disrupt Sebastian’s composure, he wonders. What does Sebastian sound like up close and personal?
One of Ciel’s hands trails down Sebastian’s arm. He stops at the wrist, fingers circling around it and following the steady, slow pump of his fist. The glove is still in the way, blocking the feeling of Sebastian’s skin against Ciel’s.
He releases the breath he’s been holding when his lungs are about to burst. Panting, he lets out a small moan. It’s taking longer than usual.
“Sebastian, stop,” he orders weakly, even though what he wants is the exact opposite.
“My lord?” Sebastian’s touch disappears, and Ciel can hear in his tone that the order surprises him.
“I’m tired,” is all he gives for explanation. It’s a variation of the truth, at any rate; Ciel is tired of this new direction his thoughts have taken. If Sebastian knew that, Ciel would never hear the end of it.
Despite how determined Ciel is to wash those thoughts down the drain with the rest of the bath water, they follow him into the bedroom. He steals a glance when Sebastian’s back is turned to retrieve Ciel’s nightgown from the wardrobe. His strides are long and purposeful, no effort wasted. Sebastian makes being perfect look easy, down to the placement of every hair on his head, or the slant of his lips when he turns back around to catch Ciel staring.
Just a few more slow strides, and Sebastian is standing in front of him again. Ciel unwraps himself from his towel and guides his arms through the gown sleeves that Sebastian holds ready for him. The slip of fabric against his freshly washed skin is more distracting than it has ever felt before. Ciel can’t think of anything other than the brush of Sebastian’s cotton gloves against his throat as the folded collar is smoothed out to lay flat.
He sits on the edge of the bed, fighting the instinct to shoo Sebastian out of his room. His erection still hasn’t flagged from when they stopped earlier, and his breath stutters in anticipation for what it will feel like when Sebastian carefully closes each button along his already sensitive hip bones.
“Will you be able to sleep like this?” Sebastian asks, all seriousness as if this is a normal thing to talk about with your master.
Ciel closes his eyes to search for some composure, knowing his cheeks are dusted pink. There is little to do about that from the combination of his persistent arousal and unhelpful embarrassment. What’s most confusing about all this is that he doesn’t yet know what he wants to ask for, just that something isn’t enough.
No point in pretending he doesn’t know what Sebastian is talking about. Opening his eyes again, Ciel pulls the corners of his lips down.
“Fix it, then.”
“Forgive me for leaving you unsatisfied in the bath,” Sebastian murmurs with a barely concealed grin.
With only half of the buttons closed, the lower portion of Ciel’s nightgown remains open, parting around his hips and giving unobstructed access to his erection. Sebastian’s white glove closes around it, the fabric soft and fuzzy where the latex one was smooth and rubbery. He strokes Ciel the same as always, refined and measured and perfect.
It shouldn’t be so different doing it here instead of in the bath, but Ciel quickly learns that he failed to prepare for the fact that he can actually see Sebastian’s face now. Normally, his back is turned, leaving Sebastian to reach over to his front to get the job done. In the bathroom, with all the lights on and the smells and sounds of flowery soap, Ciel could almost pretend he was alone and it was his own hand. Here in the bedroom, however, with Sebatian kneeling in front of him and warm candlelight flickering against the pale skin of his face, it is strangely… personal.
Ciel’s hands press backward into the mattress to support his weight. He feels like he should look away from Sebastian’s face—surely, it’s not normal to watch your male butler perform such a task, but Ciel’s own curiosity wins out. Normal isn’t for the two of them, anyway. Never has been.
The minutes tick by. Sebastian’s pace never falters, only varies in speed and vigor as if he’s looking for the right fit. It feels good, it really does, but it’s taking even longer than it did in the bath. Rather than the tell-tale pressure building between Ciel’s hips, it’s his chest that clenches when he looks at Sebastian’s face. That something still eludes him, but the word he’s looking for might be similar to more.
“Your glove,” Ciel whispers. “Remove it.”
When Sebastian complies, tugging it off with his teeth, Ciel has once again underestimated how different it will feel. Sebastian’s hand is so much warmer against his increasingly sensitive cock. A wave of pleasure pulsates throughout Ciel’s body, causing him to actually jolt and gasp. His fingers curl into the sheet, and he really should look away now but can’t tear his eyes from the sight. The tip beads with moisture that surprises him at first. No, he remembers, it always does this, but I never noticed in the bath.
As the clear liquid wells up and spills over Sebastian’s diligent fingers, it’s paired with a tightening sensation between his hips. What a difference it makes, feeling Sebastian’s skin on his own, watching the up and down motion of his black nails. Before, he’d been getting frustrated with how long it was taking, unable to understand why. Now it seems like he arrives at the cusp of pleasure between one breath and the next. He even has to fight the urge to rock up into Sebastian’s tight, slick fist.
And it feels like he has to fight it for ages, though it can’t be more than a few seconds. Ciel sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to keep his moan from bursting out, but in the end it does hardly anything to muffle the sound. His arms shake, nearly giving out as it washes over him. As he hazily takes in the sight of everything spilling across Sebastian’s hand, a few whimpers escape in undeniable proof that Ciel was correct in wanting more.
Finally collapsing onto the bed, Ciel throws an arm over his eyes and catches his breath. The quiet and the dark allow him to swallow a bit of his embarrassment. It lingers, though, in remembering how Sebastian was looking at him toward the end there. The demon’s expression was simmering with something like hunger, as if he already knew what he was planning to do about this new development in Ciel’s needs.
But for now, Sebastian simply goes about cleaning Ciel up like this has always been part of their nightly routine. Ciel listens to him slip the handkerchief out of his pocket, and the soft fabric wipes him dry a second later. More rustling, and the last few buttons on Ciel’s nightgown are fastened. Only when Sebastian pulls away completely does Ciel take a long breath and sit up.
“I have more confidence that sleep will come effortlessly now,” Sebastian announces cheerily.
“You seem overly concerned about my quality of sleep lately,” Ciel comments, crawling under the covers that Sebastian holds up for him.
Tucked in, Ciel blinks up at him, finally tired after what felt like an entire day’s worth of restlessness. Sebastian places a hand over his heart, and Ciel notices he hasn’t put the glove back on yet.
“A poor night’s sleep can reflect doubly so on a human’s health the next day,” he replies. Then, exiting the bow, he grins and adds, “Besides, a grumpy master makes for a dreadful day for the servants.”
Ciel huffs and rolls over. He can’t deny it, but he won’t give Sebastian the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
Over the next few days, Ciel’s curiosity about Sebastian only grows.
Curiosity, because he refuses to acknowledge what his unintentional lingering glances really mean. It should be of no consequence that he has started looking forward to the moments they are alone together, fantasizing about when Sebastian might touch him again, and how. No matter the manner of their contact, be it the innocent brushing of lint off his shoulder or the sensual caress of warm water and soap in the bath, even the briefest touch has the power to make Ciel gasp.
And in the moments they are not together, Ciel has caught himself imagining other things they have not yet done with each other.
No, he won’t call it longing. Or infatuation. Or attraction or affection. Ciel is only curious, which he deems as perfectly normal for someone his age.
The night before the banquet, however, he has a dream that Sebastian kisses him. Not a brief peck on the lips, either, like the kind of kiss he remembers his parents used to share on happy spring mornings. The kiss in his dream carries a heat that stays with him when he awakes. He stares at the ceiling of his canopy bed, recalling the passion in dream-Sebastian’s eyes the second their lips met. It leaves such a profound impact on him that he swears his lips are still tingling.
“Not another minute is to be spent horizontally,” Sebastian quips as he flings the bedroom curtains open. “I have far too much to do before guests begin arriving.”
Ciel squints against the sudden light. There isn’t a tea cart this morning, so breakfast must be waiting in the dining room.
When Sebastian turns around, his urgency diminishes, and a soft grin spreads across his face.
“Did you have a pleasant dream?”
Blinking, Ciel realizes he’s been touching the corner of his mouth as his mind still swims with what he dreamt about and why. But Sebastian could not possibly guess what it was, so Ciel drags himself into a sitting position and stretches.
“It’s a miracle I slept at all with this banquet hanging over my head,” he grumbles.
“Hosting a charity event is no match for the Earl of Phantomhive, I’m sure.” Sebastian bends into his field of vision, gloved fingers gently combing through Ciel’s bangs. “All you need to worry about now is greeting your guests and dancing the night away.”
On instinct, Ciel brushes Sebastian’s hand away. Goosebumps rise on his arms from the brief touch, reminding him once again that his own dreams have betrayed him.
“Is it not enough to host the event? Must I also dance?” Not that it’s really a question. Elizabeth will be in attendance, and she simply won’t allow Ciel to be a wallflower.
“At the very least, I know I will be delighted to witness the endeavor,” Sebastian provides happily.
With a grunt, Ciel reluctantly gets out of bed and follows Sebastian to the dressing room. The outfit he picked for the night hangs on the rack—a black ensemble with lavender accents. He’ll have to change into it tonight, but for this morning, Sebastian prepares one of his regular suits.
Ciel stands in the middle of the room, letting Sebastian undress him as usual. His eyes follow the dexterous gloved fingers as they swiftly undo each button of his nightgown. Is it just his imagination, or is Sebastian’s touch intentionally lingering on his bare skin?
Before Ciel can determine the answer, Sebastian turns around to retrieve his clothes. Ciel closes his eyes and steels himself with a sigh.
All of this is very normal, except for these thoughts running through his head. Where they will remain until they suffocate. So help him God.
He sees very little of Sebastian for the rest of the day. It isn’t until mid-afternoon that the demon retrieves Ciel from his study and informs him it’s time to get changed. Guests will be arriving any moment, evidenced by the aroma of fresh food and flowers lining the long tables in the ballroom. Garlands hang from the chandeliers and bannisters, and in the abundance of candlelight, the room sparkles like champagne bubbles in a crystal flute.
It must have taken all day to make the necessary preparations.
Even when guests do begin to trickle in, Ciel cannot rid himself of the distracting thoughts that are seemingly stuck to the inside of his skull. All throughout dinner and the first few dances, he catches himself stealing glances to the corners of the room, hoping to spot a tall man dressed in all black. He’d be watching Ciel and Ciel only.
The music carries the dancers’ feet in elegant circles. Everyone moves in sync, and yet they seem to blend into the background as if part of a painting when Ciel finally glimpses Sebastian from across the room. His eyes are steadily trained on Ciel, piercing through the other guests like they don’t exist, and Ciel is too late to stop himself from preening under the attention. Sebastian’s gaze caresses him from head to toe, and it should be impossible that mere eye contact can feel so good.
At the end of the song, he apologetically excuses himself from Elizabeth’s company and leaves the dance floor. Where he intends to go, he hasn’t thought that through yet.
Seemingly able to read Ciel’s thoughts, Sebastian meets him halfway. Ciel wouldn’t be surprised if something about their contract gives Sebastian the ability to sense his desires before they form.
Unsurprising, but certainly a bit flustering. Ciel is mildly mortified by the thought of Sebastian knowing that he craves the demon’s attention even in the middle of a crowded room.
“That was an exquisite effort, my lord,” Sebastian says smoothly, offering Ciel a glass of champagne to keep up appearances.
Since it’s offered, Ciel takes it and swallows a sip of the golden, bubbly drink. He glances around the room, at all the happy faces of the happy guests, and cannot wait for the event to end. Manor empty, strangers vanished, a long bath and Sebastian’s careful hands…
After another sip, Ciel lowers the glass and shakes his head. “I’m convinced that ballroom dances were invented to embarrass those who are too busy to waste time learning how to follow them.”
Sebastian places a hand over his heart and bows, then gets to one knee.
“I think the opposite is true. Despite how busy you are, you have still shown improvement since your first dancing lesson. The time you have spent since then has not gone to waste.”
He holds a hand out, motioning for Ciel to place his foot on Sebastian’s bent knee.
Ciel complies, ignoring the odd fluttering in his stomach upon hearing Sebastian compliment him. Instead, he focuses on what’s happening in front of him. Sebastian’s gloved hands fuss over the clasps of Ciel’s shoe, which run up the side of his leg and stop just below the knee. There’s nothing wrong with the buttons, but Sebastian’s fingers flit over his calf anyway.
He’s only pretending, Ciel realizes. An excuse to touch him in front of all these people. Those soft fingers skirt along the top of his long stocking, where fabric meets skin, and delicately dip underneath the hem a few times. Sebastian pretends to tug it back into place, and then looks up from his kneeling position.
Unable to stand the combination of that look and the touches that continue to dance along his knee, Ciel turns his head away and sips more of the champagne. A truly unreasonable image pops into his mind, in which Sebastian’s hands begin to wander despite the very public setting they’re in. If that were to happen, Ciel cannot confidently say that he would tell Sebastian to stop.
Sebastian grins as if he can see that image too.
Shoe clasps “fixed,” Ciel returns his foot to the floor, and Sebastian stands up. For an excuse to extend their contact, Ciel reaches into Sebastian’s vest and tugs the pocketwatch out by the chain. He checks the time, sees that he has to endure two more hours before the banquet ends, and returns the watch to where it belongs.
A finger hooks under his chin. Ciel suppresses a gasp as his head is tilted up. Sebastian meets his eyes, holds his gaze for a moment, and then busies both hands with fixing the ruffled bow around Ciel’s neck.
The damn demon is teasing him now.
“If you wish to retire early, I’m sure your guests would not mind their host going to bed,” Sebastian says. “It’s getting late, and a young earl needs his rest.”
Another sweep of Sebastian’s touch, this time gently smoothing out a few strands of his hair. Only after he’s satisfied with Ciel’s appearance do his hands finally return to his sides.
Ciel seriously considers the offer, and he has a feeling Sebastian only brought it up because he knew Ciel would be tempted to say yes. So he must absolutely resist the urge to listen to a demon’s sweet words, and see this party through to the end.
With another large swallow of the champagne, Ciel hands off his half-empty glass and turns to head back out into the crowd.
He glances over his shoulder at Sebastian, looking him up and down once.
“I expect full pampering when this is all over. No protests about me staying up too late.”
Before the night is over, however, Ciel makes his rounds as a gracious host. He announces toward the end of the festivities that the donations far surpassed their goal, and he thanks everyone for their generosity. After a round of applause, the orchestra picks up a lively tune, and dancers take to the floor one last time with spirits high in celebration.
“Care for this last dance, my lord?”
Ciel, having been content to watch from the sidelines, turns around and finds Sebastian behind him. A gloved hand is extended in invitation.
“It’s hardly appropriate for an earl to dance with a servant. Let alone a butler,” Ciel says, surprised that he manages to remain resolute when his first instinct is to accept the offer.
“The final song allows for a break in the formalities,” Sebastian explains. He nods out toward the dance floor, where Elizabeth and Edward and even Bard and Mey-Rin are paired up, swinging happily around each other.
Ciel considers Sebastian’s outstretched hand again, then reaches his own out to take it.
“As long as you don’t draw too much attention to us,” he warns, though he may as well not say anything. Where Sebastian is concerned, there is always opulence and flare.
He is whisked out to join the dance. The couples around him all laugh and spin, barely following the cues of the music. Ciel has only ever practiced formal dancing, so he has no clue how to move his body.
The answer comes in the form of Sebastian drawing him close. Their bodies press together, which immediately calls a blush to Cie’s face. He glances up in annoyance and only finds Sebastian smiling down at him.
Arm wrapped securely behind Ciel’s back, Sebastian lifts him up a few inches and settles him back down directly on top of his own shoes. And with that, their dance begins.
All Ciel can do is hold Sebastian around the middle as their legs move in perfect tandem to the sway of the music. Sebastian guides them into wide spins and circles, flowing easily between other couples. With a quick glance around, Ciel confirms that no one is really watching them. Embarrassing as it is to be pressed against his butler and carried through a dance, it still feels rather nice to be so close to him. It reminds Ciel of the times Sebastian has carried him vast distances at great speeds with all the grace of a waltz. Was it like dancing for him then?
Clutching the back of Sebastian’s tailcoat, Ciel rests his cheek against his chest. His eyes fall closed, and the motion of their bodies sends his stomach into a fit of butterflies. Sebastian is warm and steady, and Ciel wishes it was just the two of them.
The pace of the song changes, slowing down toward the end. Lost in thought and the rhythm of Sebastian’s shoes underneath his own, Ciel is caught off guard when his entire body is lifted up. A tiny gasp escapes his throat, but Sebastian only adjusts his arms to hold Ciel at eye level. He’s still dancing, steps following the new cadence of the song. When it becomes clear that Sebastian isn’t going to set him down again, Ciel makes himself more comfortable by wrapping his legs around his waist.
He doesn’t care anymore if people see him like this. His arms tighten around Sebastian’s neck, and Ciel hides his face against his cheek and inhales deeply. Sebastian smells delightful, a warm and spicy scent that Ciel has become so familiar with. It reminds him of those times in the bath, and once in his bed, when Sebastian was so close to him. Ciel craves it, even now.
It should be wrong to imagine these things, he tells himself, legs squeezing Sebastian’s waist.
Despite all the people in the ballroom, Ciel’s focus is on one person. Something in his core stirs with heat, and it’s absurdly satisfying to feel Sebastian’s arms around him, one securing his back and the other supporting his rear. Sebastian hums quietly to the tune of the music, his voice reverberating deep into Ciel’s skull.
“Take me to bed, Sebastian,” he orders in a low tone.
The last notes die down, and the dancers slowly separate. Ciel didn’t make it to the end of the banquet, but close enough. There is only one thing on his mind now, and he’s too distracted to see anyone off. Sebastian doesn’t set him down, so Ciel is content to let them all think he’s too tired to do anything else.
Sebastian carries him toward the stairs and stops at the base. Ciel doesn’t lift his head from its hiding spot on Sebastian’s shoulder, but he listens.
“I’ll be taking the young master to retire for the night,” Sebastian explains. “The rest of you ensure the guests make it safely into their carriages, and then start cleaning up. The ballroom should be spotless by morning.”
“Yes, sir!” the other servants recite in unison.
Sebastian ascends the stairs. As the noise from the ballroom gets farther and farther away, Ciel shifts in Sebastian’s arms. His lips find the skin of Sebastian’s neck, and he leaves a kiss there while remembering the dream he had last night.
It’s no use keeping up pretenses now. Sebastian can probably smell the curiosity rolling off of him like a strong perfume.
So when his bedroom door closes with a soft thud, and Sebastian gently sets him down on the edge of the bed, Ciel looks directly at him and says, “I want you to touch me.”
Sebastian kneels before the bed, taking one of Ciel’s ankles in hand to undo the shoe clasps. He moves slowly and methodically, and several long seconds pass before he answers.
“I do not think that’s what you want.”
Ciel’s cheeks flare with embarrassment. It was difficult enough to swallow his pride and ask the demon for exactly what he wants, and now Sebastian is going to say that he’s wrong in wanting it?
“How would you know—” Ciel is about to ask, but he stops when Sebastian’s fingers dance across the top of his stockings before tugging them down.
Even through his indignation, the simple touch is a promise in the right direction. A tease. Once his legs are completely bare, Sebastian’s hands slide up both thighs languidly.
“I think you want something more than a touch,” Sebastian purrs.
Ciel is unprepared for how close his face becomes when he sits up on his knees. Only a few inches separate their noses.
Sebastian smiles, continuing as his hands explore around the ruffled hem of Ciel’s shorts. “I’ve been paying very close attention to you, and it seems you are after something that cannot be attained by a quick release.”
It’s by instinct that Ciel’s eyes flick down to Sebastian’s lips, like he already knows what the something is. He’s been chasing it, unwittingly, for the entire week leading up to this moment. And probably since long before that too.
Still, the something eludes him. Sebastian’s confession that he’s been watching closely is more satisfying than Ciel cares to admit. An unreasonable possessiveness flares in his chest, and he agrees. Sebastian should be watching him closely, now and always.
“And what would that be?” he asks, maintaining his composure.
“It might be easier to show rather than tell,” Sebastian muses, playing coy. “But I have faith you will reach the same conclusion all on your own. Look deep inside yourself, and tug at it. What do you really want? Give me your order, and spare no detail.”
Fingertips rest against Ciel’s chest, directly over his heart. Looking down at Sebastian’s hand, his touch so near yet separated by too many layers, Ciel thinks he’s starting to understand.
There was a reason he let Sebastian touch him the first time. There was a reason he dreamed about a heated kiss shared between them last night. There was a reason that, during their dance, Ciel actually enjoyed himself.
Any reason to be closer with Sebastian is a good one, and it’s possible to be even closer.
“I want you to touch me,” Ciel repeats, meeting Sebastian’s eyes. “But first, I want you to remove your gloves. I want you to undress me. And then I want you to undress yourself. I want to feel your skin on mine. Finally, I want a kiss. One that proves your devotion to me.”
The corners of Sebastian’s lips tug upward, an indication that this is exactly what he was expecting to hear.
“Is that all, my lord?”
“It’s a start,” Ciel says. On a normal night, admitting so much would mortify him to no end. But he supposes he needs to get this out of his system before things can ever go back to normal.
“Then I shall happily oblige.”
Sebastian bows once and begins to follow Ciel’s instructions. His gloves are slipped off and set delicately on the nightstand. Ciel eyes them where they sit, and it seems a bit scandalous to see an item of Sebastian’s clothing on his bedroom furniture. A sort of… togetherness they don’t always possess in their usual roles of earl and butler.
Those now-bare fingers reach for Ciel. They card through his hair gently, mussing up the careful styling he had done for the banquet. The eyepatch strings loosen, and the entire thing slips from his face. Sebastian is watching the movements of his own hands like a painter at work, admiring the detail before he can allow himself to step back and view the whole canvas.
The layers of his dress suit go next. Each article of clothing is placed to the side of the bed unfolded. As more and more of his skin comes exposed, Ciel’s heart flutters in anticipation. He compliantly moves his arms out of the sleeves and lifts himself off of the mattress so the shorts can follow after. Once he is completely naked, he preens at the way Sebastian looks at him. Having the demon’s attention has never felt so good, and Ciel will have to examine when and why this started happening. But later.
Sebastian stands, causing Ciel to tilt his head back to see all of him. The tailcoat drops to the ground. The tie loosens, and the buttons of Sebastian’s waistcoat and dress shirt come undone. Faithful to his request, Sebastian undresses himself from head to toe. Ciel watches the sleeves slip down his arms, revealing pale skin and defined muscle underneath. He almost wishes his request was to be the one to undress Sebastian. Ciel’s fingers curl into the blanket he sits on, itching to put his hands on his butler in ways that are too taboo to consider.
Once Sebastian steps out of his shoes and socks, that’s everything. Ciel rakes his eyes down Sebastian’s body and is unsurprised that it’s as perfect as the rest of him. What does surprise him, however, is how his eyes automatically migrate back to Sebastian’s hands. His hands, out of everything else, capture Ciel’s attention again and again. His blank fingernails, the contract on the back of his left hand, it thrills Ciel to see them without his gloves.
Well, there is another part Ciel keeps stealing glances at. It’s Sebastian’s mouth, which is getting closer and closer as he leans down to begin the final request that Ciel voiced earlier.
He gasps without meaning to. Sebastian is right here, as close as he was when they danced earlier. His warm eyes shimmer in amusement for the brief moment they make eye contact, and then he closes the gap.
Sebastian kisses him gently but with confidence. His lips are soft, and his spicy scent once again envelops Ciel completely. Blinking a few times, Ciel lets his eyes slip shut and returns the kiss. His dream hardly compares to the real thing.
He jumps slightly when fingertips caress down his cheek. Sebastian’s skin is warm, something he learned a few days ago when he ordered the gloves to be gone the first time. Despite the warmth, Ciel shivers, though he knows it’s less from the temperature and more from his imagination running wild.
The kiss ends before he’s ready. As their lips separate, Ciel’s tongue darts out to find out what taste was left behind. His eyes slowly open, and he smirks.
“Tastes like devotion,” he says.
Sebastian wears a matching grin. “When you order something of me, you can be sure I will deliver.”
Indulging an urge, Ciel reaches forward and lays his fingertips on Sebastian’s bottom lip. The skin is as soft as it felt against his mouth. A glimpse of his sharp teeth flashes from deeper within.
Ciel retracts his hand, unsure of what’s supposed to come next.
Sebastian, of course, can seemingly read his mind. “You look a bit lost, my lord. Do you have another request for me?”
What Ciel does know is that a single kiss isn’t the something he’s looking for. As for everything else, he is woefully ignorant.
“What more is there besides the… other thing we usually do in the bath?” he asks.
Sebastian cups his cheek, drawing his attention into the depth of his warm eyes. “If you’ll allow me to take the lead, I can show you many more. I believe I know what you’re longing for. It isn’t easily named but wonderfully demonstrated.”
Ciel leans into his palm, and even this feels like a step in the right direction. When Sebastian’s thumb strokes over his cheek, Ciel allows his eyelashes to flutter, and he nods.
He doesn’t know what to expect. The touch on his cheek slides downward, the pad of a thumb pressing gently against his bottom lip. Ciel opens his mouth almost on instinct, and with his eyes slowly opening again, he flicks his tongue out and tastes Sebastian.
Another hand settles on his bare waist. Everywhere they touch feels electrified, and Ciel’s body responds to the simple and otherwise innocent contact with interest. Sebastian said he was longing for something, and yes, that seems like the right word. If it was physically possible, he’s fairly certain he’d want to open up his ribs and invite Sebastian into them for a while.
The hand on his waist does a decent job of mimicking the feeling, he thinks. Sebastian caresses him from the waist and up the side of his ribs before resting in the center of his chest. Inside, Ciel’s heart thuds with curiosity, with anticipation, with arousal. Sebastian can probably hear it just as well as he can feel it under his palm. Does Sebastian experience similar impossible desires? Does he also want to blend fully into Ciel’s body as badly as Ciel wants him to?
“When are you going to start?” Ciel asks, mostly to break himself out of whatever trance has gotten him thinking such sentimental things.
“I’ve started,” Sebastian says. The fingers on Ciel’s cheek drop down to the side of his neck, where the wild pulse matches that in his chest. “Part of it, at least. It’s not meant to be rushed.”
“What is it?” Ciel can’t help but ask in a quiet voice. Whatever it is, he already likes it. “I know you said it can’t be named easily, but a demon as experienced as you should have a halfway decent vocabulary.”
A small laugh escapes Sebastian’s throat. His other hand comes up to Ciel’s face, and he uses both to cup his cheeks.
“Is my young master calling me old?” he teases. “If I were to offer a word in your language as a definition of what this is, then the word would be ‘intimacy.’ A closeness between you and I, a physical representation of our emotional and contractual bond. Kisses, caresses, warmth. Affection, if it’s not too bold to say so as your butler.”
Ciel’s cheeks warm because that is a very bold thing to say indeed, but he cannot locate within himself an inch of rejection to that statement. He feels affection. For Sebastian. And Sebastian… is showing him affection in return, in the form of his wandering hands and lingering lips.
A closeness, he called it. Suddenly Ciel is reminded of how nice it felt to dance with Sebastian. If you asked him a week ago, he would have scoffed at the notion of doing something like that in front of so many people. But in the moment, he loved the proximity of Sebastian’s warmth and the sway of their bodies in tandem.
Not too different from how this started with their bathtime ritual, Ciel supposes. For exactly how long has he been harboring this affection?
Words probably don’t mean as much as action in a situation like this, so Ciel responds to Sebastian by kissing him. He holds Sebastian’s wrists with both hands, preventing him from taking them away. His head tilts slightly to fit their lips together seamlessly, and Sebastian kisses him back with another taste of that devotion.
It really only strikes Ciel now, the fact that Sebastian is all his and they can do whatever he wants tonight. Sebastian is kneeling in front of him, completely naked because Ciel ordered it, and he promised to show Ciel the things that will satisfy his curiosity. With a small surge of greed, Ciel buries one hand in the back of Sebastian’s hair and indicates with a gentle pull where he wants to go next.
Sebastian follows the hint and climbs fully onto the bed, holding the kiss as they slowly make their way to the center of the sheets. He lays mostly on his back, one arm pillowing Ciel’s head while his tongue slips into Ciel’s mouth. On the other hand, it’s all Ciel can do to concentrate on the kiss, and the new position of their bodies doesn’t register immediately in his lust-clouded head. His tongue brushes against Sebastian’s over and over, and he doesn’t know if he’s clumsy about it, only that it feels so good.
He’s forced to acknowledge the rest of his body when a thigh slips between his legs. Sebastian nudges against his cock, which has been stiff for some time now without Ciel realizing. He realizes it now, of course, and his body jolts from the sudden pleasure. A moan drops out of his mouth, already swallowed by Sebastian. With little else to do with his hands, Ciel hooks one behind Sebastian’s neck to keep him from going anywhere.
Between their bodies, Sebastian has grown hard as well. His cock presses insistently against Ciel’s lower stomach, making its presence known with every small quiver of his abdomen. Wanting Sebastian, and being wanted in return, does dizzying things to Ciel’s head. His kisses turn hungry, and he sinks his teeth into Sebastian’s bottom lip as if he can devour him here and now.
Sebastian, unsurprisingly, encourages his voracity. A hand traces down the outside of Ciel’s thigh until it finds the back of his knee. With a smooth pull, Sebastian draws that knee onto his hip. Their bodies press even closer, no room left between them. Ciel moans at the friction rubbing at their lengths together, and his hips give little jerks in search of more.
Whenever Sebastian would touch him in the bath, Ciel thought there wasn’t much else to the simple act of reaching a climax. Now, in the humid space between their panting mouths, he learns that intimacy has the power to transform it into something frenzied and precious.
“Take what you need. Good,” Sebastian purrs after one kiss and before another. His lip sports two faint dimples where Ciel bit him. “This body is yours to do with as you please. Wring every drop of pleasure out of it.”
As he speaks, his hand wanders from Ciel’s knee to his backside. Fingers trace down the swell of his ass and back up between the cheeks. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but Ciel has resigned to the fact that nothing makes sense when it comes to his relationship with Sebastian. As two fingerpads press warmly at his very center, his entrance, Ciel readily accepts the wave of arousal that it invites throughout the rest of his body.
“More of that,” he mumbles, almost too lazy to form the words as he continues to greedily kiss Sebastian.
“Anything you wish, my lord,” Sebastian whispers in return, and he rubs at Ciel so deliciously that his eyes would roll back if they weren’t already pinched shut.
Ciel’s next breath carries another moan with it. He remembers how it felt when Sebastian’s hand in the bath just wasn’t enough. He was teetering at the edge for so long that it actually frustrated him. But this is different. The white-hot pleasure in his core has passed the place where that edge used to be, left it in the dust to be replaced with this new sensation. Ciel can’t tell which feels better—rocking forward to grind against Sebastian’s cock or arching back to ask for another stroke of his fingers. He clutches at Sebastian’s chest, desperate to hold on because he might actually drown from all of it.
His body moves independently of his mind. With a few more wild thrusts of his hips, Ciel sucks in a gasp that tastes like Sebastian and spills everything. He rides it out, sensitive everywhere from his kiss-swollen lips to the tremor of his weak legs.
Regrettably, Sebastian pulls his fingers from between Ciel’s legs and wraps an arm around his middle. Ciel would protest the loss of touch if he had the capacity to speak around his panting breaths. Instead, he lets his head slump down on Sebastian’s other outstretched arm, exhausted and satisfied in a way that he cannot possibly comprehend at the moment.
Sebastian’s arm bends at the elbow, and a second later, fingers stroke the hair at the back of his head.
“Is this intimacy too?” Ciel asks, half sarcastic, when he regains control of his lungs.
“This,” Sebastian says, dipping down to speak the soft words against Ciel’s forehead, “is whatever you want it to be.”
Ciel hums, too tired to be embarrassed about the way he throws an arm over Sebastian’s waist and cuddles closer. He likes the togetherness, and Sebastian doesn’t seem to hate it either.
Actually, with a shift of his hips, Ciel feels a bigger mess than his own splashed across their stomachs. He didn’t notice when that happened, but he will definitely remember this in the morning when the urge to tease Sebastian about it strikes him.
Sebastian’s voice ruffles his bangs. “You may fall asleep if you wish. You’ve had quite a long day. I’ll handle the cleanup while you rest.”
Ciel buries his face deeper into Sebastian’s chest. “But I thought of another request.”
He hears the low rumble when Sebastian chuckles. “Perhaps you want to go all over again?”
Despite all that they just did together, Ciel’s face flushes at the image that suggestion calls to mind. He tilts his head back to send Sebastian an unimpressed glare.
“I want to stay like this. Until morning.”
Sebastian touches their foreheads together, a small smile on his lips.
“And we will. After I clean you up and get proper nightclothes on you. Intimacy is nice, but not at the risk of you catching a cold in the middle of the night.”
Ciel frowns but knows he can’t prevent Sebastian from performing his butlery duties.
Sebastian kisses his frown, and it feels like a concession. Another thing he can tease Sebastian about later. Since when did he start spoiling Ciel so easily?
He tolerates Sebastian prying himself away. The bed feels too large without him in it, but he quickly returns from the bathroom with a damp cloth to banish the mess left behind. Ciel appreciates the opportunity to watch Sebastian work while undressed. He particularly likes the evidence of multiple bites on Sebastian’s bottom lip.
Skin washed, nightgown on, hair combed, Ciel crawls under the covers and scoots closer to the center to give Sebastian room. The demon joins him, and the sheets feel immediately cozier.
Ciel takes his new favorite place in the crook of Sebastian’s arm, head resting on his shoulder. Sebastian draws the blankets all the way up to his chin, and Ciel grabs his wrist before it can move away.
He presses Sebastian’s hand to his cheek and holds it there, eyes falling shut. A thumb strokes carefully underneath his eyelashes, and this is it. This is everything he’s been craving—from Sebastian’s touch, to the sound of his breath as Ciel drifts off, to the lingering taste on his lips left by the first of many more kisses to come.