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Something is holding him. It has his legs covered and trapped, burning and smothering. He feels the same dark heat at his back, just at the nape of his neck and he thrashes violently to throw it off. He hears a loud crash and jerks again, opening his eyes to sweat-soaked bangs dripping down his cheeks and trembling legs knotted in the duvet. The room is still dark, but a line of pink-gold sunlight lands on the floor from a crack in the curtains.
Ciel breathes a deep, shaky breath and lets the weight of his head fall- if only for a moment. In another breath, he pushes his hair out of his face and rolls his shoulders to unstick the drenched nightshirt from his back. Slowly, still weak from his nightmare, he untangles his legs and turns to observe the shattered glass knocked off the bedside table in his throes. Water is slowly soaking into the carpet, darkening the color as it spreads.
“Sebastian.”
He speaks the name into the empty room. Ciel needs a distraction from the latest restless night.
In an instant, the devil is beside him. Sebastian chooses to ignore propriety for the sake of aesthetic and materializes in a shift of shadow and something darker in the bedroom corner, before stepping forward, his gloved hand at his chest.
“You called, My Lord?”
Ciel is silent in response and Sebastian moves closer to stand in front of the boy on the edge of the bed. He leans down on one knee and picks up the shattered pieces of glass, placing them on the bedside table to be removed later, after the Earl is prepared for the day.
“It would seem a bath is in order before dressing you this morning,” He states quietly, standing once again and placing a hand on the child’s damp hair and pushing it behind his ear. “You arose quite early today, my Lord. I hadn’t planned on waking you for another hour and a half”
Ciel sits up and holds his arms out, a silent invitation for Sebastian to undress him. Though the Earl’s face is blank as his butler removes his shirt, button by button, he shivers when the morning air hits his sweat-damp chest. Sebastian’s hands slow their work and he lets gloved fingers rest on bare skin, asking silently if the boy wants something else this morning.
***
The little creature is unpredictable after his night terrors. Sebastian recalls the early days of their contract when the boy would wake at least twice each night, screaming his lungs dry, his eyes awake but blinded by horrors beyond the room. The little thing would snarl and shout at any touch, yet always ordered Sebastian remain by his side until he once again returned to sleep.
One particular night, nearly a year into their time together, the little one woke from a terror- less frequent by then, but still close to weekly- to Sebastian at his side.
“It’s only me, my Lord, you have nothing to fear”
Perhaps the boy was still asleep somewhat, perhaps he had seen something more horrible than usual, or perhaps he had seen someone other… more familiar... than Sebastian beside him. With a broken cry, the little thing threw his arms around the butler’s waist, almost knocking the candelabra from Sebastian’s grip. He said nothing, only pressed his face and chest hard into Sebastian’s torso, and the demon could do nothing but place a hand on the boy’s head and slowly stroke his hair.
***
These days, it’s a toss-up of whether Ciel will refuse touch, or silently accept it as a distraction. Today, Ciel leans into it, seeking human comfort in the only form available; the deeply inhuman devil who stands by his side day and night. So Sebastian offers- why shouldn’t he? He is contracted to provide whatever this child commands, spoken, or otherwise uttered.
Ciel feels his butler’s gloved hands still over his stomach and he turns his gaze to meet the demon’s deep red eyes. The tips of his ears blushing pink, the boy nods ever so slightly and places a hand on top of his butler’s. Sebastian waits to see where the boy will guide. Ciel pauses for a moment and Sebastian can hear his heart rate increase. Then Ciel tugs at the fabric of Sebastian’s cotton gloves.
“Take these off,” he mutters, mismatched eyes locking with Sebastian’s feral, fiery red.
“Certainly, My Lord,” Sebastian replies, and the words drip with hissing tension. The butler keeps his right hand splayed across the boy’s stomach and chest, and without dropping eye contact brings his left hand to his mouth, biting the middle finger with a flash of pointed teeth. Slowly, sensually, he pulls off the glove to reveal the mark of their contract, branded black in stark contrast to the devil’s pale skin. Sebastian uses the tip of his tongue to push the glove from between his teeth, then swipes it immodestly over his lips.
Ciel, to his credit, holds eye contact the entire time, though blush creeps from the tips of his ears to his face, and across his collarbones as he watches. Sebastian replaces the gloved hand on the boy’s stomach with bare one and, teeth still sharpened, rips off the remaining glove. Sebastian presses his right hand above the other, covering Ciel’s heart with the palm, fingers curling into the dip of the thin boy’s collarbones.
Ciel’s eyes flutter, his breath hitches and he thrusts his slender chest forward into Sebastian’s palms. Sebastian slides a thumb over the boy’s ribcage, pressing into each dip between the bones. Ciel’s mouth is parted now, his pupils blown wide and hot baby-breaths already speeding up. The Earl has certainly gotten the distraction he wanted.
Sebastian twists his hands to curl around Ciel’s tiny waist and tightens his grip. In a jerk, he yanks the boy to stand. Instinctually Ciel’s arms grasp hard behind his butler’s neck just an instant before their lips meet, hot and openmouthed. As they melt into each other, Sebastian pushes further and slides his right hand down past the hem of Ciel’s nightshirt. Charged and possessive, he edges the fabric up high enough to expose Ciel’s absolutely adorable rear, splays his hand over the entirety of one buttock, and squeezes .
The little Earl lets out a noise that is part moan part squeak as he breaks the kiss and snaps his hips forward- away from the offending grip and into the hot, hardened stiffness at his butler’s crotch. Sebastian exhales, sharp, and it’s almost a growl, but he doesn’t let himself break just yet. Moving slowly again, Sebastian brings one hand behind Ciel’s head, supporting the boy’s neck as the butler lays him back down on the bed.
Ciel’s eyes are narrowed and his chest rises and falls as he breathes heavily. Sebastian pauses and waits for an order to stop, to leave, or for Ciel to shift away from the vulnerable position he has been set in. When no order comes, he crawls over the blinking boy and nudges a black-clad knee between pale, knobbly legs. Ciel again lifts his crotch to meet the devil before him and stifles a gasp as his hardened flesh rubs against his own nightshirt and the butler’s long, toned thigh. Then, the boy’s brows furrow with a decision.
Ever the spoiled, noble child, the Earl is impatient and unwilling to wait for what he wants. To Sebastian’s honest surprise, the little thing takes hold of his shirt where the last few buttons remain closed over his crotch and rips.
The boy’s blushed pink arousal is bared to the air and to his devil, and Sebastian takes in the delectable sight for a moment before shoving his knee hard against the little cock. Ciel writhes and lets out the most precious, pitiful whine and it’s a disgusting combination of lust and want and shame. The desperate thing is losing composure fast and ruts again against his devil’s leg, trying to start a rhythm, but Sebastian, in his own demonic impatience, has other plans.
The demon takes his leg away sharply and moves back from Ciel, who sits up with a breathless: “No, don’t go-!”
Sebastian smiles, nearly a sneer, and replies, mocking and hungry and honest all at once, “Oh, don’t worry little one; I’m not going anywhere.”
In one movement the devil is on his knees between the boy’s legs, hands a vice gripping bony knees, holding Ciel’s legs open. They make eye contact the instant before Sebastian buries his face in the boy’s crotch and the little thing screams, plunging small hands into Sebastian’s hair to paw and yank like a kneading kitten. Ciel’s entire body is curled around Sebastian’s head, jerking and thrusting into his devil’s hot mouth as he nears his climax. He wails, loud as he comes, voice breaking mid-shriek. Sebastian sucks hard, tongue curled around his master’s cock still sugared with adolescence, pushing Ciel through his orgasm. Sebastian swallows every drop without difficulty and licks his reddened lips.
The child is panting and spent, his hair again sweat-damp and tousled. The little thing blinks slowly as he returns from post-orgasmic haze.
“I think that bath is in order,” Sebastian announces, and sweeps Ciel, naked, sweaty, and smelling of sex, into his arms as he makes for the bathroom.