Rating: T (just for a kiss and references to ‘’that month’’)
Warnings: Fluffy? but not OOC; I actually made up a whole plot to justify the characters’ behavior. (that I didn’t write because the day when I’ll write a novel length story is yet to come)
It is a cold, bitter December night, not the anniversary of that dreadful night but unpleasant all the same. Ciel’s treacherous mind wanders back to similarly cold nights spent behind cold iron bars and the soft silkiness of his duvet starts to feel more and more like the harsh bile and spittle-covered wooden floor of a rotting cage. He can’t sleep.
“Sebastian,” he hears himself murmur into the cold night. “Come here.”
Mere moments later, the onyx-swathed form of his butler comes into sight. He can barely make out the silhouette, faintly illuminated only by the violet glow emanating from his right eye. He knows Sebastian is there but he still has to consciously fight the urge to crawl out and cling to him, to demand countless reassurances that he is not back there, that he can’t be hurt anymore.
“Yes, my lord?” The butler asks, in a deeper, much more feral voice than usual.
“Lie with me,” Ciel commands.
Unlike usual, Sebastian doesn’t stall, doesn’t suggest a cup of honeyed warm milk as a suitable replacement to his presence, doesn’t lie stiffly above the covers. Instead, he pushes them back after deftly removing his own clothing and settles under them, pulling Ciel against his shirt-clad chest in a gesture that’s almost warm, if it weren’t so fiercely possessive.
“Tell me a story,” Ciel demands, hands clutching at the other’s shirt so ferociously he might just tear the cloth off.
“Oh,” an amused sound of surprise escapes the butler. “And what kind of story would the young master prefer?” he inquires, rubbing soothing circles along the boy’s back.
“Tell me a tale of ravenous demons and greedy humans with nothing but their soul left.”
Sebastian complies. “Once upon a time,” he starts, “there was a small child who was faced with much undue suffering. He prayed to the heavens for salvation, but the lord paid him no heed. In his last moments, just before his life was ended by the mindless cruelty so ubiquitous in humans, he managed to find enough strength to save himself.”
“And then?” Ciel prompts, comfortably nuzzling against his impending death.
“Then he met a demon, a demon so entranced by the beauty of the child’s unwavering persistence, by the sheer, raw strength of his will that he formed a contract with the boy, promising him his service and unending loyalty until the child fulfilled his ultimate desire,” Sebastian says, leaning closer to brush soft lips against Ciel’s brow.
“That's… a highly sanitized version,” Ciel remarks with a bitter laugh.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to spook the young master, now would we?” Sebastian replies with a chuckle, smoothing errant locks behind Ciel’s ear.
“…It was always so dark, back then. It makes me forget sometimes—”
“No one will ever hurt you again, young master, not for as long as I am here.” Sebastian interrupts with a harsh growl. “I would slaughter them all over again, were it possible.”
Something, maybe the way Sebastian’s gaze flashes red while he speaks the words, maybe the fact Sebastian can’t lie to him either way, maybe just whatever small part of childish naivety that month didn’t rob him of, makes Ciel believe him completely.
“You wouldn’t have a meal if it weren’t for them.” Ciel states plainly, wistfully running a hand along Sebastian’s jaw.
“True enough, but you are so much more than a simple meal, my young lord.”
“Is that so?” Ciel questions with an impish grin. “What am I then, Sebastian?”
“You are mine,” Sebastian says, as if stating a simple fact. He presses a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Mine to taint,” another to the corner of Ciel’s mouth, “mine to break,” yet another to the opposite corner, “and mine to care for, if I so choose.” Finally, he kisses the boy full on the mouth, feels the impossibly soft lips, and delights in the eager, albeit somewhat clumsily inexperienced, response he gets.
Just like every other touch Sebastian gives him on nights when the past refuses to stay buried beneath thick layers of maggot-infested dirt, the kiss helps him, grounds him, tells him that he still here, still alive. That—and not some base urge intensified by his pubescent mind—is why he responds eagerly, letting Sebastian thrust his tongue past his lips and explore the warmth inside.
They yearn for decidedly different things, the boy and the demon bound to him, but, at least to Ciel, the hunger in Sebastian’s eyes resembles his own need for something solid to clutch to more than ever. He understands, Ciel thinks, astounded. He knows, that’s why he…
“Stupid demon,” Ciel says the minute Sebastian’s mouth leaves his own, but, even to his own ears, it sounds much more like an endearment than an admonishment. And for once, he finds he doesn’t mind at all…
The butler doesn’t answer, simply looks at the boy some more.
“…thank you, Sebastian.”
“Am I to assume the young master is unwell?” Sebastian asks, pressing the back of his hand to Ciel’s brow.
“No, I feel quite well, as a matter of fact.” Ciel responds, a look of bewilderment settling on his countenance.
“I apologise, then, young master, but since you went as far as to openly display gratitude…”
“Bastard,” Ciel grouses.
“I humbly beg your pardon, my lord.” Sebastian chuckles, going back to rubbing mindless patterns along Ciel’s back.
After a spell, Ciel speaks again. “I don’t fear it, you know.”
Sebastian’s hands still. “Don’t fear what, young master?”
“The day you’ll take my soul.”
“You wanted to, I could sense it.”
“I would never—”
Ciel reaches out, putting a hand where Sebastian’s heart resides. “I know,” he assures. “I know, Sebastian, don’t worry. And if anything, I’m glad that’s how my life will end.”
Sebastian smiles, and clasps Ciel’s hand. “I made a much better choice than I could’ve ever hoped for, all those years ago.”
“You saved me, all those years ago.”
Sebastian’s hand moves to softly caress the lid of Ciel’s right eye. “Not many would regard it as salvation, little one.”
“Not many would cling to a demon for comfort.” Ciel retorts with a mild flush that the demon can see clearly in spite of the dark.
And so, in the dark, framed by eerie shadows, in the arms of a ravenous beast, Ciel Phantomhive sleeps soundly.
… … … … … …
A/N: I really like this one.
If you want me to write a story for you, just send me an ask. (Nothing sexually explicit, though.)
Summary: If your intent is to torture me, you must try must harder than that. The only pain I truly feel is when I have to instruct my master on the concept of dancing. I’m fairly certain the phrase ‘two left feet’ was invented precisely for him. So a beating or two compared to that… Hmph, all I can do is smirk at your attempts.
Next time on Black Maid, “His maid, Escaping” You see, I am simply one hell of a maid.
The sizzling of the hot poker and the man’s excited laughter grew closer as he pointed the sharp, red hot poker to the tip of your eye.
You looked at him from the corner of your eye as he placed the burning metal against the flesh of your cheek. The hot stinging reached beyond the barrier of your flesh and went straight to your bones. But not your soul.
He stood, frowning because he didn’t have a satisfying scream of pain. “Oh, we have a tough one, eh?” He pulled it away and some of the flesh stuck to the poker as he did.
“This is good. Now I can try out my new method on you.” He snorted and scurried away to somewhere behind you.
You looked over at the door. The pain was nothing. All you could think about was Sebastian, and how he was probably hanging off a wall, chained to it without a care in the world. He must have been having a grand time.
The man stepped closer to you with a sheet covering something. He grinned. “I have been wanting to try this for so long. But there was no one truly worthy of this pain, but you, sweetie, you will definitely be an exception.”
He removed the sheet to reveal a cage of rats. The rats themselves were dirty, scrounging for anything they could find. They were hungry. He reached a finger out to pet one, but it shrieked and instead tried to bite his finger off. He caressed the cage with pride and walked closer to you.
“They haven’t eaten in days and they’re starving.” He placed the cage on your bare stomach. Yes, bare. He had removed your corset over an hour ago. Now, you knew why. He grabbed the bottom of the cage and looked at you eagerly. “They’ve been trapped for longer. They want to get out now. And the only way to freedom is quite literally through you, lovely.”
You glanced down as he removed the bottom and the rats fell onto your stomach’s skin. You narrowed your eyes at them. “Rats…” One screeched at you and your jaw clenched when your eyes turned demonic and you hissed back. It cowered and they all sat down obediently.