It’s close approaching the anniversary of Maria Stark’s death, post cacw,
and Tony dreams about one of the more comforting memories he has of her,
always brought to the surface in times when he feels most vulnerable.
Hey my house is as of now going to be obliterated by a category 5 hurricane can I please have a prompt about something 'cause iM SCARED AND I HAVENT FELT DISTRACTED IN YEARS HELP
Sebastian jolts awake in the middle of the night.
It’s the thunder that wakes him, but lightning cuts the sky the moment he opens his eyes. The cottage is suddenly bathed in bright, blue light and the priest shivers involuntarily. He’s 30 years old but storms still give him the creeps. He hears thunder rumble in the distance as the room goes dark again, hears heavy rain splat across the roof. In the darkness he sees the bushes outside shiver and shake across the windows. His heart betrays him and starts to beat out of control.
He’s so nervous of the lightning that he doesn’t notice the body beside him until the sky lights up electric again. For a split second he sees Ciel, curled up on his side on the mattress. He instinctively curls closer to him, so close that their bent knees almost touch. The bedroom is warm, balmy with the slumbering fire and the electricity outside. Ciel feels even warmer, hot breaths skating out to touch the back of the priest’s knuckles. He wants Ciel to wake up, but he doesn’t dare disturb him. Thunder cracks across the sky, shakes the whole cottage and Sebastian inhales sharply. He flinches, the bed shakes and when the lightning lights up the room again he sees two odd eyes, open and awake a few inches from his face.
“Bastian?” He whispers, groggy. He balls his fist into his injured eye, rubs at it because it always aches when he first wakes up. It’s dark again, only dancing tongues of light illuminate the pair.
“Yeah,” he mutters. He doesn’t know what else to say, he feels so flighty. Ciel reaches out his hand in the dark, pats blindly until he taps Sebastian’s chin. He gives it a little squeeze, navigates upwards to find the priest’s hair and to brush it behind his ear.
“Are you scared?” He whispers kindly. It’s rare to hear the boy so gentle, so he nods into the touch. Ciel’s hand is steady, breaths steady too. He isn’t scared the slightest and that makes Sebastian feel ten million times better. Ciel’s hand touches his neck when the light flashes again, Sebastian’s throat jumps under the boy’s touch and something about his heavy swallow makes Ciel wake up properly. He sits up a little bit, starts wriggling towards the priest. He knows, because the bed wobbles.
Then Ciel is pressing their chests together, ducking his head into the space between Sebastian’s neck and shoulder. One of his arms slides around Sebastian’s waist, the other pins prettily between them. The priest releases a shaky breath and puts his hands on Ciel’s lower back to steady him. Like a cat, Ciel’s affection is unexpected and somewhat suspicious. Sebastian doesn’t move a muscle, scared that he’ll spook Ciel and the boy will leave. He only shifts his hands, puts his thumbs into the little dip of his back. When the thunder cracks above them, Sebastian breathes in and Ciel wriggles in even closer. One of his skinny legs slips between the priest’s, brings them closer than they’ve ever been. His hands tighten on Ciel’s back as the boy rubs little circles onto his ribs. The fabric under his hands shifts noisily, louder than the rain.
When the sky lights up again, Ciel takes the opportunity to ease Sebastian’s blankets down. The priest is shirtless, the air is nice on his warm chest. The boy pushes the linen down to his hips, lets his nails scrape against the skin on his back. Then his hand goes to the scar on his ribs, Sebastian knew he’d touch there first. Ciel’s obsessed with it. He traces the little scar and the priest sucks air in through grit teeth. He hardly flinches when thunder shakes the cottage this time.
“You’re warm,” Ciel murmurs. His fingers are bored of the horse scar, he lets them dip into his bellybutton, smooth against the skin above his pants. He’s not surprised, he feels so much hotter with Ciel pressed up against him. He can feel his balmy skin under the shirt he’s wearing.
“Are you warm?” Sebastian asks. His hand, still behind Ciel’s back, ruck up the tail of his shirt a little. Ciel raises his head, eyes the priest coyly.
“Yeah,” he breathes, but he’s smiling, like he’s lying. He takes his pretty hand off his stomach and starts plucking the buttons off his shirt. Sebastian goes rigid, hardly moves as Ciel unbuttons his shirt, starts to wriggle it off his shoulders. Sebastian has to take his hands off him when he throws the shirt off the bed, but when he brings his hands down he’s met with warm, smooth skin. He clenches his hands impulsively, Ciel inhales too quick. He shifts closer again, and Sebastian thinks he’s going to be sick when he pushes their naked stomachs together. Thunder cracks, the room goes blue and Ciel is breathing hard next to him, fingers splayed over the heaving swell of Sebastian’s pecs.
“You okay?” The priest mumbles. He sees Ciel nod, hears him finally release the breath he’s been holding in. He feels impossibly small, he can feel his ribs rising and falling against him. Sebastian smoothes his palms over his tiny waist, over the dip in his back, up between his shoulder blades. When the thunder rolls this time he doesn’t even notice it, because Ciel is panting.
“Sebastian,” he breathes. His head tips back onto the cradle of Sebastian’s bicep and his hair spills out over his arm. The priest cups his head, keeps him still against his body as he uses his free hand to smooth over the quivering flesh of his belly.
“Ciel,” he mutters back. The boy’s eyes are half shut, mouth open like he’s in pain. His hand is still pinned between their chests, the other hand is touching his collarbone, his throat. Sebastian tugs him closer, easily dragging the little thing tight against his body. Ciel makes a sound, presses his nose into the priest’s throat and Sebastian can feel his breath there, hot and sticky.
Having Ciel plastered to his side should have felt indecent, should have been revolting enough to make him stop but it didn’t. Ciel’s breaths, his pupils blown wide in the dark, his small nails leaving marks on the priest’s back, one’s he’d feel under his clothes tomorrow. It was easy enough to dip his fingers into the back of Ciel’s trousers, only enough to make the boy’s breath hitch and his back curve out the way the priest dreams about. He keeps two of his fingers tucked under his beltline, lets Ciel make tiny, hurt sounds in his ear, like a wounded animal.
“Do you like that?” Sebastian ducks his head so he can whisper into Ciel’s hair.
“Yeah,” Ciel makes the most illicit noise and holds onto Sebastian with shaking palms. Sebastian wants to slip his hand in further and grab his tiny ass. He wants to force Ciel onto his back, wants to swallow the wounded sounds right out of his mouth. He wants to smother Ciel into the linen, wants to tug his hair so hard he yelps. But instead he holds him up against his sweat-damp body, fingers ducked into his trousers as they both try catch their breath.
Ciel’s fingers are back on his scar, ticklish. The priest loosens his grip on him, untucks his fingers and lets them dwell on his lower back instead. “Why do you like that scar so much?” He asks, much calmer. Ciel’s breathing is irregular, like he was running. His lungs are more delicate than Sebastian’s, all of him is.
“It’s the only thing wrong with you,” Ciel replies, his voice raspy. Sebastian knows that isn’t true but his heart sings despite it.
Quedate con esas personas que te dicen “che abrigate si salis porque esta fresco” que te mandan un “avisame cuando llegues” o te preguntan un “llegaste bien?”
Quedate con esas personas que podes hablar hasta la mas minima estupidez sin que parezca una estupidez. Que podes apreciar horas de silencio, que podes apreciar horas de charla, con las cuales podes apreciar las horas.
Quedate con esas personas que sabes que van a estar para lo que necesites, porque es hermoso estar rodeado de gente asi.
No te conformes con un “como estas?” O un “que linda que sos”, eso te lo dice cualquiera.
Ok but after seeing your latest art of Bard w/ gis tatoos my first thiught was of him having a pinup tatoo of Mey Rin on his leg 👌 Your art is absolutely amazing but what else did I expect from someone as talented as you❤