I very recently started watching Kuroshitsuji (I finished the whole thing in a few days, which is a first for me) and I AM IN LOVE! I'm soon going to start reading the manga as well, but first I wanted to write something about those two. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to go for something vague and a bit poetic; I hope it's not bad ;_;
English isn't my native language, so there might be some mistakes.
Every time the young Lady Elizabeth arrives at the Phantomhive mansion and throws herself in Ciel's arms with loud squeals and her irritatingly high-pitched voice, Sebastian feels like his ears are bleeding. He is, however, one hell of a butler and treats the lady with respect. He makes sure that she wants for naught and that she feels more than welcome and comfortable while in the Phantomhive estate.
His young master, of course, knows what is expected of him. Everyone expects the young, lonely boy to be the perfect gentleman and ideal man to his betrothed; and that is exactly what he tries to be. No one notices that sometimes he looks like he wants to slap his Lizzy. No one notices when he slightly and discreetly rolls his eyes at some girlish foolishness. No one notices that he'd rather be anywhere but there.
No one but Sebastian.
Sebastian knows. Sebastian understands. Sebastian watches.
Sebastian watches as his young lord jests and compliments and listens intently to meaningless gossip and fruitless plans for the future. He watches as his young lord charms and seduces.
He watches knowing that he taught Ciel how to be such a great liar, how to pretend so effortlessly.
He watches knowing that Ciel is not as innocent as everyone else thinks.
He watches knowing that Ciel Phantomhive is his, body and soul...and maybe heart?
He doesn't dwell on that last one too much. He is a demon, after all, a creature of darkness, a creature from Hell. A hungry raven posing as the perfect butler. A devil corrupting a dark-haired Eve.
Sometimes, when the Lady Elizabeth gets too close to his young master and enjoys more physical contact than either male would like (although none says anything out loud), Sebastian feels something close to rage. A lion inside him awakes and roars and wants to tear that blond-haired intruder to shreds. No one notices, but Sebastian Michaelis is possessive.
But then, the young, far too cheerful, lady takes her leave; and he has Ciel all to himself. Only he gets to see his purple, demonic eye. Only he gets to see how he really feels.
Only he gets to touch him.
Removing his elegant clothes. Getting him ready for bed. Soft, feathery touches. His fingers slowly trailing from the handsome boy's ankles to his calves, to his knees, to his thighs. The boy shivering, his breath coming out in soft pants. Lips locked together in kisses tender or bruising. Hot breath against flushed skin. Flesh against flesh. Friction. Familiar rhythm. Pants, moans, gasps, whimpers. The demon savours every sweet sound his young lord makes, lovely (heavenly, one could say ~ oh, the irony) music to his ears.
That's how their nights are. Writhing together. Loving lust and lustful love. Corruption. Innocence lost. Master and butler, human and demon; together, as one, giving pieces of themselves to one another.
His young master's body is delicious. He can only imagine how his soul will be.