Ciel stared at the page. He rubbed his eyes and tried again, but all the words were still blurred together. Curse it all. He slammed the textbook and reached for one with larger print. Damn it, this one was worse! He squinted, determined to accomplish something meaningful before he was forced to leave the confines of his room. His own birthday and he was being made to celebrate against his will. All he wanted to do was study. He just wanted a quiet night alone to hate the new house in peace. Sure, he was bored, but he had no desire to explore this dingy city he now had to call home. Biochemistry was more interesting by far.

"Ciel."

"I'm trying to read."

"How's that going for you?"

"Not especially well."

Purple fingernails appeared at the top of the book and pulled it out of his hands. "Maybe that's because you're trying to read it upside down, dumbass."

"I don't want a lecture on intelligence from you, blondie!" Ciel snapped, but flushed when he realized why that book had proved so challenging to read.

Alois stuck his tongue out. His flashy attire was an unpleasant contrast to Ciel's black duvet cover of spun silk. He was an unpleasant contrast to Ciel in general. Where Ciel liked to study, his best friend liked to party, and where Ciel longed for home Alois was loving the over-the-top, tacky nature of the States. If he could go back in time he might have chosen a childhood friend to have more in common with, but time travel wasn't a thing so there was an obnoxious slut on the end of his bed.

"Come on, it's time to get ready," said the slut in question, pulling on Ciel's arm.

"How about you die your hair my color and go celebrate on my behalf?"

Alois began pulling the duvet, sliding Ciel ever closer to the edge of the bed. "It would take days to get a stick far enough up my ass to impersonate you and by then, your birthday would be over."

Ciel slid sideways and dropped his feet onto the floor. He knew when he was fighting a losing battle. Even if he won the argument with Alois (like that would ever happen) he would still have his parents to contend with. He huffed and followed his taller friend into his walk in closet. His clothes weren't unpacked yet but his hopes of using that as an excuse evaporated as soon as a large bag was shoved into his arms by Alois.

"Happy birthday!"

"Er...thanks." There wasn't much someone could buy him that he didn't already have, but he would rather pretend to be grateful than send his bipolar friend into a fit of hysterical tears. He pulled the tissue paper out and found a navy dress shirt atop a pair of black jeans. He unrolled the jeans and grimaced. They were so...Alois. Black skinny jeans with a metallic blue chain on the hip and cargo style pockets on the legs. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to put them on. Two objects of mass could not exist in the same space and they looked like they would have to fuse with his legs to even fit.

"Aren't they great!"

"Splendid."

Resigned to his fate, he started stripping. Alois got a good laugh out of watching him wiggle into his jeans. At least he hoped that's all Alois got out of it. He looked in the threeway full length mirrors in the corner of his closet with dismay. Just when he thought his birthday couldn't get any worse he got dressed up like a flamingly gay Ken doll to go to a bar. He didn't need his advanced knowledge of statistics to see how small of a chance there was of this night ending well.

They walked downstairs to the immediate ridicule of his father. Vincent took one look at him and sighed. "Are you seeing this, Rachel? I'm sending my teenage son and his irresponsible friend to one of the most prestigious clubs in New York for his sweet sixteen and he looks like a pig being sent to slaughter."

"Why are you doing that, by the way? I never thought I'd see the day when my overprotective father sent me to a club, you fret for my safety when I get out of school too late." He sat on the chaise lounge and pulled on his boots.

Rachel looked up from cutting the bubble wrap off some weird, expensive sculpture. "You know why, honey. He owns that place, what do we have to worry about? There's nowhere else that would let you in underage and everyone in there will know who you are so we know you'll be taken good care of."

"Great."

He went over and kissed her on the cheek before following Alois outside. Mr. Tanaka was waiting with the car, standing by the open door. Ciel watched the city go by on their drive into downtown. He didn't understand what Alois thought was special about this place. His largest qualm with New York was that it wasn't London. That was enough for him to make him dislike it, and lack any interest in warming up to it. He was going home as soon as he was eighteen.

"It's huge!" Alois said with an excited clap of his hands.

Ciel stepped out of the car and looked up at Underworld. The sign was unremarkable, white neon letters against a black background, but there was a line down the sidewalk and he could feel the bass as soon as his feet touched the ground. He walked past the long line to the door as he had been instructed by his father, earning no shortage of scandalized looks on the way. A flash of their IDs and they were inside.

The unassuming exterior didn't prepare him for what was inside. A spiral staircase on each side of the room led up to a second story that overlooked the bar and dance floor on the lower level. To the left of the dance floor was a white grand piano on an elevated platform. Alois was snapping pictures on his phone, carrying on about how amazing it was. The architecture was beautiful but Ciel found himself unable to appreciate it for the amount of thrashing bodies in the way. If nothing else he would admit the club seemed tasteful, despite the way it reeked of debauchery. There were no topless women dancing on tables or drugs being snorted.

"Let's get drinks," Alois said.

Ciel followed him over to the bar that spanned most of the back wall. He hopped onto a stool at the far corner and eyed the sparkling bottles of liquor. Did the staff taking good care of him mean letting him drink? He didn't care for the taste but he felt like the numbing effect on his brain might make his birthday more tolerable.

Alois elbowed him, transfixed on the other end of the bar. "Your dad really went all out, they have a flair bartender."

"A what?"

"Just watch, you'll figure it out."

The tall man tossed a bottle of liquor into the air, grabbed a glass as it spun over his head, and rolled the liquor down his arm into his other hand. Everything he did was with this grace and skill. He wore an all black suit obscured by nothing except the white hand towel over his shoulder that he had been shining glasses with, and white gloves. Ciel couldn't help but stare along with his friend, watching beautifully prepared drinks slide down the bar. He had to blink himself back to reality when the bartender approached them.

"You must be our special guest for the evening," the bartender said.

The accented lilt of the man's voice renewed Ciel's homesickness in full. "Unfortunately."

"My, aren't we the ungrateful one."

Ciel bristled. "Mind your tongue unless you want my father to hear of this."

The bartender smiled and tilted his head back, causing his long bangs to fall away from his face. He didn't look concerned by Ciel's threat. What he did look like was a model. His face was pale as the driven snow, his eyes such a warm shade of brown they appeared red. His bone structure looked like it had been sculpted by one of history's great artists.

"Forgive me, sir, I spoke out of turn. What can I get you?"

Alois raised his hand. "A phone number."

"I'm afraid that isn't on the menu," the bartender said with a charming laugh.

"Long island iced tea, extra sweet," Ciel said.

"Double shot of Grey Goose," Alois requested.

The man kicked his foot back and sent the vodka flying into his hand. "Little young to be drinking, are we not? Don't worry, I see it as my personal responsibility for the two of you to enjoy yourselves this evening," he added, seeing Alois' pout.

He sauntered further down the bar to get a shot glass and Ciel huffed. Leave it to his father to entrust his care to a silver tongued devil with a pretty face. He watched the man make his drink, fascinated by his command of gravity and momentum. It didn't look like an easy science to perfect. Ciel accepted his drink with reluctant thanks. It was hard not to appreciate a drink that had taken so much effort to prepare. One sip told him the man wasn't only good at putting on a show. It was as cold and sweet as real tea but he knew from the burning in gut that it was plenty strong enough.

"Ooh I love this song, I'm going to go dance!" Alois said. He downed his shot and got to his feet.

"Poker Face? Really?"

Alois blew him a kiss and disappeared into the crowd of dancers. He wore knee high boots, a purple blouse and black short shorts. He probably wouldn't struggle to find someone to dance with him. Ciel sighed and returned his attention to his drink. The song was horrid but it soon faded to white noise as a warm sensation spread through his body. He glanced up and jumped when he found a pair of garnet colored eyes on him.

"Shouldn't you be tending to the rest of your patrons?"

The bartender gestured to the full drinks all the way down the bar. "I just did."

"What the...whatever, I don't care how you did it. Why are you hanging around over here?" There were very few people at the corner of the bar he occupied, but the man seemed content to linger there.

"I told you I would see to it you had a good time. Your friend abandoned you, I'm not going to leave you here all by yourself."

Ciel gritted his teeth. "I can manage fine on my own."

"Perhaps," the bartender said, and folded his arms on the bar across from Ciel. "But if I couldn't entertain one young man on his sixteenth birthday, what kind of bartender would I be?"

"The normal kind. I thought bartenders just kept drinks full and went about their business."

The taller man tilted his head to the side, causing his bangs to fall back into his eyes in a way that definitely wasn't alluring. "A bartender I am, but normal, I most certainly am not."

Ciel was suddenly aware of how close they were, both leaned forward on the bar. He flushed and took a sip of his drink. It really must have been strong for him to be affected by some smooth talking dandy in a suit. He had been questioning for a long time whether or not he was asexual, seeing as he had yet to meet someone he was attracted to. He had physical urges but never for one person or even gender.

"Another drink," he said. He needed to drink away whatever confusion was clouding his mind.

"Of course."

The bartender was on his way back with Ciel's drink when a tall woman came around the bar and grabbed his sleeve. She wore a short red dress that showed what she didn't have in cleavage she made up for in legs. Her long red hair was twisted into an intricate bun atop her head, but her polished appearance was shattered by the mascara streaked down her face.

She sniffed. "Sebastian, we've got another handsy one."

"Is he alright?"

Ciel's mouth fell open. He was close enough to overhear them but he still hoped he had heard wrong. Had this asshole, Sebastian, just asked about some pervert's well being over the woman's?

"I don't know," she answered, accepting the napkin he offered her to clean her face with. "He hasn't woken back up since I knocked his head into the table."

"Oh, dear. Give me a moment. Your drink, sir."

Ciel accepted his drink and watched, amused, as Sebastian followed the redhead to the upper level of the club. He couldn't see anything once they were upstairs so he went back to watching the star shaped ice cubs spin around as he shook the glass. The smallest things were interesting when you were buzzed enough. Half his iced tea had disappeared when the bartender returned, who was rolling his sleeves down as if he had just gone to take out the trash.

In a series of movements so fast they were nearly a blur, everyone had artfully done fresh drinks. Ciel raised an eyebrow as Sebastian came back over and leaned on his elbows again. Without realizing it he mimicked the bartender's pose and found very little space between them again.

"She doesn't seem like your average damsel in distress. Sorry, I might have eavesdropped."

Sebastian laughed, a sound that was rapidly growing on him. "Grelle isn't your average anything."

"No one here is, apparently."

"Shall I take that as a compliment?"

"You're merely doing your job, don't flatter yourself." Ciel was mortified to hear a playful tone creeping into his voice. He finished his drink with high hopes that it would drown out the fluttering in his stomach. Two alcoholic beverages too late, he realized they were making it worse. He took only a small sip of the refilled glass Sebastian placed before him. Drinking usually wasn't his thing, he had done it with Alois a couple times but he didn't see what was so great about it.

Sebastian began polishing a wine glass. "Tell me about yourself."

"Why?"

"Because I'm interested."

Ciel blamed his buzz for the flip flop his stomach did at those words. He reminded himself their meaning was innocent and not to read too much into them. "There isn't much to know. I'm Vincent Phantomhive's son."

"You must get tired of that."

"Huh?"

Sebastian replaced the glass on the rack and tucked the towel into his back pocket. "Does anyone know you as your own person, or are you just Vincent's son?"

"I guess I've never thought of it that way. Being his son isn't a bad thing."

"Of course not, he's a wonderful man. I go back quite a ways with him. However, I already know you're his son. Tell me something else."

Ciel raised his eyebrows. "Demanding."

"I'll try again. Tell me something else...please?"

With each word he had leaned closer and Ciel almost fell off his barstool trying to put space back between them. He righted himself, wondering if there were enough shades of red on the color spectrum to illustrate how deeply he flushed with embarrassment. "I just moved here last week from London. Father moved us here for work. As you surely know, he owns the Funtom company but he's always expanding."

"There you go about your father again," Sebastian said. The flashing lights turned his face purple, blue, yellow, and pink in time with the bass pounding out from the speakers.

Ciel was becoming increasingly self conscious of how boring he was. He had nothing interesting to say about himself, which had never been a problem because no one cared about anything except that he was a Phantomhive. Until this weirdo. "I was a prefect at Weston College."

"Really, what house? I graduated from Weston."

Ciel perked up. Academics were one of the few things he could hold a conversation about. "Blue house, I was a sapphire owl."

"I was in purple, myself, but I had many friends in blue house much to my own house's disapproval."

"Damn, I would have put money on you being a scarlet fox."

Sebastian chuckled. "Oh, no. Red house wouldn't have me."

Ciel debated asking why, but he knew red house was considered the elite group of Weston and only took the most distinguished students from refined families, so he held his tongue at the risk of striking a nerve. "Nothing wrong with that. My best friend was a violet wolf."

He noticed how many glasses Sebastian had been cleaning and looked around. The crowd had dwindled almost to nothing and there was no longer anyone else at the bar. The music was softer than it was when he first got there, leaving the remaining dancers to sway rather than jump and grind. Alois was swinging his hips, holding his cocktail in the air. Just looking at how drunk he was made Ciel feel sober.

"What time is it?" he asked, panicking at the thought of his parents sending Tanaka into the building like a one man SWAT team.

Sebastian pulled a watch out of his pocket, the chain rattling as he flipped the face open. "Well, it's no longer your birthday."

Ciel studied the watch. There were spots of tarnish on the silver, but not enough to obscure the intricate pattern of cherry blossoms on the back. It didn't match the rest of Sebastian's polished appearance, nor did it seem to be of very high quality. He couldn't imagine carrying around such a cheap old relic.

"I should be going."

"We'll be closing up soon, you might as well stay a bit longer."

With a pleasant buzz warming his body, he was easily convinced. "I suppose a few more minutes couldn't hurt."

When he looked around again, he saw the DJ packing up his equipment and the last of the guests filing out. He was alone at the bar with Sebastian. He found himself staring at the fluid movements of the bartender's body as he finished his work for the evening. The speed with which he cleaned and polished his work space suggested he had been working there for quite awhile, and going off how easily he moved around the cases of liquor under the bar, he wasn't novice to a hard day's work.

"It's your turn," Ciel said, curiosity winning out.

Sebastian paused his dusting with a raised eyebrow. "For what?"

"Tell me about yourself. I don't think you were just spawned into existence to tend my father's bar."

The tall man chuckled. "Feels that way sometimes."

"Alois dated a fortune teller for a couple weeks, he taught me to read palms. If you don't want to tell me I bet I can tell you something about yourself."

He reached across and took Sebastian's hand, an action that surprised both of them. He pulled it across the bar and turned it over. It was much larger than his own and the glove looked to tailored to its every curve. Ciel knew if he was sober he wouldn't have asked about Sebastian let alone touched him of his own accord but his inhibitions were on vacation at Long Island.

"These gloves are impeccably made, you don't want for money," he remarked.

Sebastian curled his finger's against Ciel's wrist, sending shivers down the teen's spine. The observation wasn't a difficult one to make but judging from the way his dark eyes danced, he was humoring the birthday boy. "Alright, Holmes. Tell me more." The innocent words were somehow seductive.

"I said I read palms, not gloves." Ciel made to peel one of them off only to have the hand pulled out of his grasp.

"Another time, perhaps. I must be finishing up."

Ciel stared at Sebastian's back as he carried on with his cleaning. He had touched the smallest amount of bare skin, which he had expected to be smooth. On the contrary, he top was soft while his palms were quite rough. They didn't fit the rest of Sebastian at all. He looked no different than Ciel, a silver spoon practically visible in his mouth. He didn't seem to mind working hard but Ciel had thought that came from his job here at the club. Ciel nibbled on his bottom lip, becoming intrigued against his will. He loved a good mystery.

The bar did nothing short of sparkle when Sebastian returned to him. His hair was mussed from all the moving around but the rigid set of his shoulders had gone down some. Ciel's lip quirked; what a strange man, to be relaxed by cleaning. He'd never had to clean anything, he couldn't imagine doing it by choice.

"I hope I wasn't rude, but I couldn't neglect my duties," Sebastian said.

Ciel looked up to find the bartender next to him, half reclined against the next bar stool. His body seemed to go on for miles. Ciel realized he was staring and tore his eyes away, muttering, "That's fine." Get it together, you hit puberty years ago, he thought to himself. He also made a mental note to rule out drinking since it made him such a slut.

"You should come back and visit sometime."

"I'm not really into clubbing. I didn't come here by choice."

Sebastian shifted and he was close enough for Ciel to have to tilt his head back to look at him. The slightest movement and they would be touching. "Perhaps I could convince you."

He felt he was being offered far more than Sebastian was saying aloud. In the back of his mind, he wondered how Vincent would feel if he knew the likes of the man he had entrusted with his precious son's care. Ciel thought of his father's reaction to the dancing red eyes staring at him, what those eyes seemed to be suggesting. Best case Sebastian no longer had a job, worst case he no longer had legs. The image that made up his mind was the one of his father staring at him in disapproval for letting himself be drawn in by a working class commoner. He slammed the Sebastian book closed and stamped it firmly with Bad Idea.

"I should get home," he said, breathing in the scent of expensive cologne.

If his not responding to Sebastian's offer affected him in some way, he didn't show it. "Indeed."

As if summoned by his decision to leave, Ciel's phone pinged with a message from Tanaka letting him know he was waiting outside. He had sobered slightly and felt awkward as he looked at Sebastian. "Thanks, I guess. Tonight wasn't awful."

"I suppose that's the closest you'll come to saying you had a nice time?"

"Pretty much."

Sebastian smiled and Ciel could no longer blame the liquor for his stomach doing somersaults. "Goodnight then, Mr. Phantomhive. It was lovely to meet you."

"Yeah...you, too."

He retrieved Alois from his half conscious state on the piano bench and made his way to the door. He didn't look back but he felt eyes on him the whole time. Grelle waved goodbye when she let them out, a few inches shorter without the pumps that she now held over her shoulder. Getting in the car, Ciel decided there was no need to dwell on the antics he had indulged himself in for his birthday. This had been a one time thing. He doubted he would ever see Sebastian again.