Disclaimer: What do I own? This little thing called 'nothing'. Tragic, really. (￢_￢;)
His Butler, Sadistic
Above the scrumptious scent of morning pastries permeating the halls, a tantalizing aroma that only a demon could sniff out was seeping through Sebastian Michaelis' nostrils. With a wicked lick of his lips, he smirked, pushing the silver cart down the green carpet and past the various open windows. The morning sun was greeting him, already eager to shine brighter by the time it reached it's position noonday.
Sensitive ears picked up on an explosion within the kitchen, knowing Bard was probably producing something nonedible lunch for later—a meal Sebastian would have plenty of time to correct. Red eyes spared a brief glance outside one of the windows in passing, watching as Finny carried a large barrel of…
Oh, it didn't matter. Whatever mess was created, Sebastian would be cleaning it up in due time, but he knew from the maddening sound of glass breaking downstairs that Mey-Rin would be first on his 'fix it' list. The woman had somewhat of a domino effect—the size of calamitous proportions—whenever she touched or held anything.
It wasn't until Sebastian approached the double doors of his master's chambers that he pulled his pocket watch out, checking the time. "My, my…" His words flooded out with a calm, breeziness about them, and his mouth began to water. That delectable scent was still there—thriving in all it's appetizing splendor… It was thicker on the other side, almost taunting him in a way…
Magnificent.
But yet to finish preparing… Sebastian thought, pocketing his watch in his black coat. The butler arched his index finger while touching his chin. Perhaps a light simmer will do for now… Ciel's soul was a meal he worked so hard to concoct, and probably the most palatable he'd ever smelled thus far.
Red eyes filled with surprise, but quickly resigned to content mischief, when Sebastian heard a small cough behind the sealed, rich mahogany. Young Master is ill? How unfortunate…
It'd been such a long time since he'd last eaten, and although the object of his starvation was just beyond those double doors, he knew he wouldn't feast this morning. After a brief knock with the back of his hand, he called, "Young Master," and swiftly pushed the door opened.
"Sebastian," was the fatigued, yet still somehow rueful, reply.
"Forgive me for not arriving sooner," Sebastian said, pushing the cart inside. He gently closed the door behind him. As he bowed, his black hair plunged in front of him, shielding his face, but as his head rose, devilish eyes gazed over the little earl, the form of Ciel Phatomhive. "You've awoken earlier than usual."
Ciel was sitting up in the massive bed, knees pulled to his chest while he hugged his limbs under the comforts of his white night robe and dark sheets. As he inclined his head to the left, his dark bangs shielded his contract mark from view, allowing him visibility from only his left eye. "I'm not hungry." The eye patch was forgotten on the nearby nightstand, only to be placed over his eye once Sebastian had dressed him—but they both knew that certain complications would prevent the boy from getting out of bed.
Doubtful, was Sebastian's first thought to the bravado of Ciel's reply. "You can't stomach breakfast?" he asked. There was a slight tease in his tone. He knew Ciel could smell his favorites on the tray—and his eyes shined with naughtiness when he saw that Ciel's focus took interest in the earl grey tea… He even simpered after seeing Ciel's face flood a peculiar shade of green before the boy covered his nose and turned away, but Sebastian quickly used the tips of his fingers to conceal the amused expression when Ciel found the strength to peer over at him once more.
"Remove that from my presence, Sebastian," the young earl commanded. He wouldn't give the demon the satisfaction of knowing he felt dreadful this morning. It would only make his smirk widen.
"Yes, My Lord." Holding back a grin, Sebastian touched his chest before performing a slight bow again. "Perhaps I should fetch the physician before I return…?"
"No need," Ciel replied, waving his free hand to arrogantly dismiss the notion. "It's just a slight fever and cough—a common cold."
Delighted creases formed in the corners of Sebastian's eyes as he observed the little earl. "And possibly the runs along with it?"
Ciel's cheeks turned a ridiculous shade of scarlet, despite his small glower. "…Fetch him like the dog that you are!"
Sebastian was relishing seeing Ciel in this sudden torture, knowing that every second of every hour he shared the same pain of not feasting. He even took an agonizingly long time to open the door and remove the cart that he had previously pushed into the room. All the while, Ciel felt his insides churning from the mere smell, and he plopped down onto his pillow in defeat once Sebastian had fully shut the door behind him, taking the odors of what felt like his demise with him.
Ciel was sweating bullets, and taking ragged breaths as his stomach produced sounds unknown to man—as if his abdomen were filled with creatures at war and the painful twists he kept experiencing were signs of their clashing. This wasn't asthma, but he certainly felt close to death, like he had after imposing as a member of the Noah's Ark Circus with Sebastian some months ago…
There was an urge to rush away and rid himself of the catastrophe forcing it's way out of his bowels, and had he not been so ashamed he'd get caught by Sebastian, he might've tried. There was nothing worse than getting mocked by that God-awful smirk…
But…
It felt as if Sebastian had been gone for hours, and the idea made Ciel sigh. I told him to get the doctor, but I never said how long… He knew Sebastian always liked to be technical, and had he ordered, "Immediately," he'd have gotten quicker results. He also knew that because his condition wasn't life threatening, the demon was probably purposefully making him suffer…
Sadist. Ciel smirked at the thought, knowing if he were in Sebastian's place, he'd do the same.
As he held his stomach, he gazed around the grim room, kicking the hot sheets off. Everything appeared to be spinning due to his fever, and nothing close to happiness resembled the dark colors—or the matching atmosphere… It metaphorically gave him the impression that the only life in his room was his own… which didn't truly belong to himself now that he had an infuriatingly, maniacal demon lurking around...
What a lonesome dwelling…
The hot flashes were starting to give him delirium, and in a sudden state of distress, he shut his eyes, seeing memories of what he endured years ago—visions that still haunted him as if the brutal acts had been in play just yesterday.
"S-Sebastian," Ciel called in a frail tone. The child from before, the afraid little boy he once was, enwrapped his mind and body, replacing his older self in that moment of fret. He lifted his hands as if he were in a cage, clutching onto nothing until his palms turned white and his thin fingers dug into his palms, causing small droplets to trickle down the nails until they fell from his hands and stained his night robe.
When an image of a white offering appeared, he sat up, hands shaking as his eyes glazed over in terror. Saliva had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth, and the room felt darker than it ever had… And as he opened his eyes, he could no longer see the fireplace on the opposite wall, the closed curtains, or any other part of the unwelcoming interior. All he saw was white and red—stone and blood—death and the knife being held by it's deliverer as another child lay on the stone…
The knife plundered down.
"S-Sebastian..." was the weak call. It was barely audible.
"Young Master, are you all right?" Sebastian had already returned by his bedside (after being gone for some time), and he used his teeth to remove his gloves from his hands as the left side of the bed dipped from his slow, sensual intrusion. Gentle touches brushed over Ciel's clammy forehead and neck, observing the way the boy quivered while the gloves fell from Sebastian's mouth onto the bed. "I've never known a human to feel hot and cold simultaneously. Quite a feat." When Ciel didn't reply, Sebastian followed his gaze, noting nothing of interest. With a devilish grin, he used Ciel's frantic state to his advantage, bringing his lips up to his neck and closing his eyes to smell the aroma of his soul.
So close, he whispered, licking his lips. While opening his eyes, he lifted the boy's left hand in his own, and he bought the knuckles up to his mouth, savoring the smell he'd been trying his best not to drool over. Delicious… Greed got the better of him, and he flipped Ciel's hand, lapping at the fair amount of blood.
Ciel had yet to respond; he was completely at Sebastian's disposal…
After knowing the boy was giving in to his own memories, Sebastian brought his lips back to Ciel's ear, murmuring, "You're no longer there, Young Master."
"N-not there…?" Ciel asked with wide, vague eyes. The memories felt real enough, though, and he was sure he wasn't dreaming. He could see the dagger being lifted once more…
Acting bolder, Sebastian nuzzled his face into his future meal, sighing as he used his free hand to caress the back of the boy's head as if he were the most precious creature in all of his existence. "No," he answered again.
Ciel felt something wet sliding against his ear and he blinked himself out of his trance. "Where…?" He turned, unimpressed to being greeted by amused red irises—as red as the blood rushing through his cheeks. He could feel his nose brushing against the demon's in front of him and when he saw their joined hands, he yanked his away—but not before swiftly slapping Sebastian across his face and staining the man's face with his own blood.
The humor drained from the demon's expression, replaced with what appeared to be an irrevocable revulsion towards the earl before him. Brat…
Demon, Ciel thought, sneering at him. He was forced to break eye contact when his stomach began to bubble, and he winced, hugging himself. "I… I thought I ordered you to fetch—"
Sebastian gestured with his left hand towards the door before reaching for his gloves. "I've retrieved him as you requested."
When Ciel gazed at him once more, he began to fume at the knowing look the man was giving him. "Sebastian…"
"Young Master… perhaps if you relieved yourself—"
A pillow found it's way against the man's head, causing the feathers to fly and Sebastian's smirk to return...
"He does have a high fever," Ciel heard the physician say from where he lay. "It's best to allow him ample rest after those doses of opium I've given to him… Please be sure to give him plenty of fluids to avoid further dehydration."
"Of course," Ciel heard Sebastian agree. He internally scoffed upon hearing the pleasant tone the demon was using. He sounded a bit too gleeful for his liking, knowing well that the butler loved to see him in such a vulnerable, begrudging state.
"The self mutilation is my biggest concern," he heard the physician say. "He's punctured through his own flesh."
"I'm aware, yes," Sebastian stated, remembering the memorable, sinful taste. Ciel opened his eyes to see Sebastian's back as the man blocked the entryway to the door. All he was able to look upon was his butler's raven hair and the finely tailored black suit he wore. "…And what of his stomach troubles until the opium kicks in?" He sounded far too eager to know.
Infuriating, Ciel thought.
"I'd say if he can eat something that's light, preferably a small broth, then he shouldn't be too bothered," Ciel heard the physician say. "However, the quickest way…" There was uneasiness in his tone. "Perhaps, if the boy—" He produced an uncomfortable cough. "Relieved himself…" Ciel wanted to disappear, knowing perfectly well that the demon was probably touching his lips with the tips of his fingers to hide his humored grin. "There were no signs of halted bowel movements, only… severe, abrupt movements." He'd worded his sentences very carefully to avoid the word echoing in Sebastian's thoughts: Diarrhea.
"I see," Sebastian said, tickled by the idea. His master wasn't suffering from constipation, at least; although he knew Ciel would probably wish that upon himself over the abundant misfortune his bowels were spewing out of him… quite literally. And as he shut the door behind himself, and led the doctor out, he almost chortled at the idea of Ciel's misfortune…
However, once he returned to Ciel's chambers, he opened the door to find the disgruntled human scowling at him. Not the least bit threatening… He also wasn't surprised to find Ciel clutching his stomach, yet again.
The opium hadn't quite taken effect just yet.
Humans, Sebastian thought. What peculiar creatures…
The sadistic side of him watched Ciel writhed far longer than needed before he kindly asked, "…Shall I gather you a few chamber pots, Young Master?" Or maybe a dozen…? It'd be terribly shameful to have him ruin those silk sheets. He was fond of that fabric, only because it reminded him of the softness of a cat's fur…
The new odor flooding around the room was one that neither of them appreciated—quite alarming if the demon did say so himself—and Sebastian was more than a little shocked that someone who had once smelled so splendid before—and someone so minuscule—could smell so dreadfully lethal in what appeared to be Ciel's most embarrassing of days.
It would take a butler with one hell of a tolerance to not die from the stench alone—a demon, if you will—because that insufferable smell could very well kill an entire army at this rate far easier than any mustard gas... Grell would have a field day if that were to ever occur. The thought of the reaper appearing caused his mood to turn as sour as Ciel's scent.
"Yes," Ciel finally forced out, clamping his eyes shut. He waved for the man to hurry. "Just get on with it, S-Sebastian. Th-that's an order…"
A delicate, gloved hand touched the black fabric belonging to the ultimate sinner. As he bowed and said, "Yes, My Lord."
Ciel opened his eyes, giving him a sharp look. The smirk Sebastian wore was enough to drive him mad, but before he could protest the look the demon was giving him, his stomach produced another eerie sound, alerting another 'abrupt movement' as the physician had called it earlier.
"Several," Sebastian murmured to himself, hurrying out the door and grinning manically on his way down the hall in search of the chamber pots. When a questionable rumble echoed from the room, he whispered, "I'll bring back all that I find."
By the time he'd made it downstairs, he was astonished—and impishly excited—to hear Lizzie loudly intone, "CI-EL!"
As he entered the foyer, he bowed. "Ah, Lady Elizabeth. What a pleasant surprise." It certainly was. "The Young Master is still in bed, and terribly ill as of late." He pretended to pout upon delivering the bad news. "But I'm sure he'd appreciate a nurse such as you by his bedside in his most desperate hours of need."
He couldn't stop his lips from twitching at the chaos about to ensue.
It was going to be a long day, one wickedly, rancid hell of a day…
And he'd love every minute of it.
...
A/N: Opium- was one of the main drugs used for remedies. Various kinds were made for all sorts of purposes...
Mustard Gas- a colorless oily liquid whose vapor is a powerful irritant and vesicant, used in chemical weapons.
Chamber Pot- a bowl kept in a bedroom and used as a toilet, especially at night...
I've had this sitting on my laptop so I thought I'd post it. Nothing like my usual, I'm sure. But after my nightmare that was last night, I think I needed to write something lighter in order to calm me down.
I'm aware that this isn't my usual fandom and I may have written these characters a bit off, so I don't mind the criticism I'm likely to receive. I wasn't keen on labeling this as humor, since I'm not sure if my own is lacking and mostly dedicated to angst but I gave it a try. You're free to review if you'd like and thanks for reading this.
-AJ