ONE HELL OF A BUTLER

Chapter 1: His Butler, Faunus

Whitley Schnee was not a boy of many colors, but he considered himself socially adept enough to hold a higher social standing than either of his elder sisters. After all, their father showed heavy favoritism to his only son, because who would feel pride for two daughters who would rather run around in the wilderness with weapons calling themselves heroes, fighting besides savages and defending people too weak to just do it themselves. Even so, his father's constant grooming had shaped him into a gilded and valued member of high society, higher than Winter or Weiss dared to achieve.

However, while he did not dirty his hands fighting Grimm, he still faced battles of his own. It was true he was his father's favorite, but that came with its own price; when Jacques was angry it was like walking a minefield. The slightest step out of turn would destroy him, leaving him bruised and talked down to like a common dog, but Whitley was smart enough to learn to steer clear of his father when that happened. Even his mother's company was its own mousetrap he had to avoid; at her best she would ignore him entirely, but at her worst she would throw things and scream at him until he left her alone. She was rarely ever sober anymore. Then there was the labyrinth of minding the staff. Yes, they obeyed every command he gave them, and yes, they would rather lose their pride than their jobs, but Whitely could still hear the whispers they uttered of him. How he would be exactly like his father; the Devil's right hand and all that came with it.

What they did not know, and what he dared not correct them with, was that he had no such intentions. His father was the CEO of the largest dust company in Remnant, but his methods were outdated, and in truth lost them more business than it gained. The new generation was growing, and with it shrunk his father's ideals about things such as Faunus rights and the Huntsmen's place in society. Faunus were no longer alleyway strays, and Huntsmen were no longer lonesome codgers who only fought for pay. His father was living in the past, and since Weiss had unwillingly handed Whitley the rights to the standing as heir, he planned to bring the Schnee Dust Company into the future.

Which lead to where he was now, strolling down one of the many colorless corridors of his family's manor to Jacque's lavish office. He assumed it was to discuss his training to take up the mantle of heir, meeting with business partners and such, and if not that it was to further badmouth Weiss. She had run away to Mistral only a week prior, to assist in defense of Haven Academy or something of the sort.

He cleared his thoughts as he lightly knocked on the ivory colored doors, awaiting his father's permission to enter.

"Enter." Jacques spoke through the wood; most likely he was seated at his desk.

The door made the slightest of squeaks as Whitley pushed it open, taking in the subtle displays of wealth scattered throughout his father's office, complete with the man himself seated at his deep mahogany desk at the end of the room.

Whitley crossed his hands behind his back, "Hello father, you called for me?" he said politely in a monotone formality his father was so fond of his children using.

"Yes, I did. Come, sit." He gestured to one of the glacial blue cushioned chairs positioned before his desk. The pale-haired boy pulled one out slightly before taking a seat, silently gloating how Weiss was never asked to sit when she was called to speak with father. Jacques intertwined his fingers in deep thought, "As you know, your sister has taken it upon herself to abandon her positon as my heir in favor of risking her life as a Huntress."

"Of course father." He dutifully replied, even though Weiss was stripped of her title before she chose to run away, which most likely further spurred her decision. It's easy to run when you have nothing to leave behind.

His father continued. "I trust you also know that Klein has gone against my orders in helping her in her endeavor, which leaves him outside of my trust. He's lucky to still be a member of my staff after his stunt, but that also leaves you without service."

"What do you propose then?" he asked, curious as to why Klein was not simply fired for his transgressions, but the butler had watched over the Schnee children ever since they were born, so the family must've had an attachment to him. Whitley didn't have that problem; Klein had never liked him, which was well and good for the feeling was mutual.

"With the recent rise in White Fang activity in Atlas, I propose I hire someone of a… special caliber, to keep an eye on you while also replacing Klein's role in the household." He explained, pressing a button on his scroll to summon someone to his office.

Whitley wrung his hands out of his father's view; just what did he mean by special? The squeak from the door sounded again as someone new stepped into Jacques's office. "Oh?"

"From this day forward, you are to be accompanied by your butler at all times, he will act as your servant as well as your bodyguard. Whitley, meet Kougyoku Kuro, your new butler."

Footsteps reverberated through the floorboards as this Kougyoku Kuro took his new permanent place at Whitley's side, the boy in question looking up from his seat to see a man clad in what used to be Klein's uniform, complete with the icy paisley vest and all. Only this was clearly not Klein; this man was tall and firm, filled with muscle that showed through his dress shirt. His charcoal black hair was long enough to be fastened into a half-tail on his head, framing his shark features and prominent jawline. But what Whitley could not pull his gaze away from were the wine red eyes that stared back at him with narrowed pupils.

He felt his cheeks burn with a feeling he'd never felt before.

This was his new butler, and he was…

Beautiful…

Apparently Kougyoku Kuro was not a man of many words; when Jacques introduced him to his new master, he only nodded silently before bowing with his right arm laid over his chest. Whitley tried to regain his unimpressed disposition, but he simply could not look away from his new servant, and he failed to calm the heat in his cheeks. With a complexion as pale as his own, his father would surely notice his blush, and that would not do at all.

"Kuro has trained in combat his entire life, and he is well equipped with the proper behavior of high society, so he is more than qualified to act as your butler and protect you from those White Fang savages." Jacques explained, but Whitley continued to examine the tall dark butler from top to bottom. His hair was shiny and styled rather hastily, as though he did not usually wear it in such a style, and he found himself wondering a great deal about what his hands looked like beneath those pristine white gloves. Or even what they felt like to touch.

Finding his thoughts escaping into extremely inappropriate thoughts, Whitley cleared his throat. "I will do what I can with him, thank you for your time father." He stood from his seat and gave his father a small bow in respect, before turning to Kuro, fully realizing how much the man dwarfed the heir who was to be his master. "And I look forward to our time together, Kuro."

Those red eyes seemed to look right through him, and he had to fight with all his strength to prevent another blush from blooming across his cheeks. Kuro reached forward to grasp Whitley's hand, and the Schnee boy could feel just how much physical strength lay beneath the guise of those gloves. Kuro bowed deeply before him, and he spoke for the first time, his voice smooth yet sharp like a fine blade.

"I serve you and only you, and I look forward to doing so until the end of my days… Young Master."

Whitley wanted to faint.

He cleared his throat and regained his composure, his father was watching after all. "Thank you for this gift father, goodbye." Without a reply, he left his father's office with Kuro following behind him, ending up back in the hallway where he had started.

A sigh he did not know he'd been holding in quickly retreated from his lungs, the monochrome colors all around him seemed to seep into his skin and cool the furious blush he couldn't seem to escape a moment ago. Kougyoku Kuro was already a presence Whitley found overwhelming, and he did not like it one bit.

He was a boy who demanded control in every situation he entered, he had to have some grip on what he was facing, or else he simply could not face it at all. Kuro was a new and different matter entirely; his new butler filled him with a heat, a feeling he had never experienced in his life prior to this moment, and it was becoming utterly terrifying. Schnee's demand control, Schnee's do not blush uncontrollably, especially not in the presence of another man. Such horrific feelings could destroy him, along with any chance he held of keeping his fresh title as heir to the Schnee Dust Company.

From this day on Kuro was his butler, and by the gods he would never be anything other than such.

The sound of a throat clearing drew him back, and Kuro was watching him with sharp expectant eyes. "Yes? You may speak."

His butler nodded. "Sir, before I can truly begin under your command, I feel as if I should mention something your father did not bring up." He explained, the hair framing his face falling to brush against his eyelashes as he bowed his head.

Whitley desperately wanted to roll his eyes, "Alight then, what is it?"

Kuro stood tall, reaching up with both of his hands to undo his half-tail and allow his hair to fall freely along his shoulders. From his scalp sprouted two rather fluffy canine ears, swirled in shades of dark grey and thick fur perfect for Atlas temperatures.

He was a Faunus.

"You're… a Faunus," he observed, unable to stop himself as he reached up to grasp one of Kuro's ears, feeling it between his fingers and marveling at how soft they were. To his disappointment, gloved fingers grasped his own, returning them to their place at Whitley's sides.

"Apologies Young Master, but touching my ears in such a way would be inappropriate behavior to show a simple butler." He said, red eyes trapping blue in their cutting gaze.

The younger boy would trade anything he owned in order to stare into those eyes for just a little while longer, but Kuro's blatant rejection of his behavior sparked an irrational anger in the pit of his stomach. How dare this simple servant, this… animal tell him what to do like he were the filthy kitchen boy? He was Whitley Schnee, heir to the SDC and member of the most elite family in Atlas, and this Faunus did not tell him what to do.

He scowled and ripped his hands from Kuro's grip, the Faunus butler not even flinching as Whitley straightened his already perfect hair, one of his ears flicking apprehensively while the heir's attention was elsewhere. "Well then I suggest you keep those things hidden during the day, do with them what you please at night but in my servitude, there are no Faunus." He clipped, pouring cruelty and mockery into the word so that the butler would know not to challenge him again.

Nevertheless, he said nothing, only bowed once more. "Of course, my young lord."

"Good."

Not another word was exchanged between them until much later, when it became time for Whitley to begin his daily lessons. Business and economics were usually his favorites, but he was also fond of history and mathematics. His sisters always looked forward to fencing, but he found the need for such pleasantries unnecessary. Why fight when people already do it for you? There really just wasn't any point, but such a skill would make him appear more self-sufficient in the eyes of the public, so he bit his tongue and listened to his tutors.

However, Madam Gardenia was absent from their usual meeting room, and the only person present in the center of the room was the object of his irate mood. Kuro stood tall and straight as a gleaming rapier was gripped firm in his gloved hands.

Canine ears flicking impatiently on his head.

Whitley sneered. "I thought I told you, showing those abnormal appendages of yours will only get you into trouble." Kuro said nothing in return, only retrieving what looked to be a black notebook from his glacial blue vest.

He seemed to have ignored the heir entirely. "According to your schedule, you have your lessons from two-thirty to seven-thirty, then supper before you retire for the evening, and since I am now your butler the need for separate tutors was deemed obsolete by Master Jacques… and frankly, I am better adept to teach you with my ears free… Young Master." The dark man explained, pocketing his notebook and swiping his blade through the air, landing in a perfect fencing stance.

Whitley felt anger bubble up in his stomach, for this man's blatant disregard of his orders, as well as the burning embarrassment painted across his cheeks. The way his eyes watched the Schnee boy so sharply, even if he wasn't much of a threat, with his lean frame and lack of any extra muscle, he watched him with the precision of a wolf stalking their prey.

He coughed into his hand to try and hide his blush, before crossing the room to take up his own rapier, his legs feeling uncomfortable as they fell into what he remembered as the proper stance.

Kuro's upper lip twitched ever so slightly into the ghost of a smirk. "Who was the first crowned king of Vale?" he asked, lunging with his blade outstretched to strike.

Whitley hardly had a second to spare to even register what his butler was asking, before the Faunus came at him with his blade up. He managed to block weakly the first time, but Kuro was too fast; he struck again, knocking the heir's rapier from his grip and sweeping his legs out from under him. He hit the floor with a pathetic thud. The wind had been completely expelled from his lungs, his hand gripping his chest where he'd landed rather harshly; his hair was mussed up, and his hand ached from where his sword had been knocked away.

Kuro stood over him, still in his perfect stance, those endless eyes staring through him like he was only glass. It made him furious. "H-how… dare you!" he cried, glaring up at his servant.

The man was still unfazed, not moving to help him up, only looking at him. "You failed to answer your question, as the heir to the Schnee Dust Company you have to be able to work through problems at a moment's notice, now stand up… and we'll begin again."

The pale-haired boy pushed himself to his feet, slapping Kuro's sword hand away out of spite. "I'm not some barbarian who believes in fighting as the solution to any problem, unlike you." His dislike for this man was bubbling out of control, everything about Kougyoku Kuro infuriated him. His shining hair, his pale face, defined features, strong build, and those eyes. The sight of them looking at him in such a disinterested way disgusted him to his very core.

More concerned with his own pride than anything else, Whitley picked up his sword, and Kuro stepped forward to strike again, but this time the heir managed to pivot and dodge. "Then it won't be hard to at least answer a simple question… now, who was the first King of Vale?"

If he were with Madam Gardenia, a strict but patient woman, he would've had time to remember that Gilder Van Helving was the first king of Vale, and he had many sons who carried out his lineage until the Great War wiped out their entire family line. With Kuro, he couldn't recall his own name before the Faunus butler twisted his blade around Whitley's own, pulling his wrist painfully until he dropped it. The dark man kicked the back of his knee, and he was on the ground again, breathing heavily and shaking with rage from his second humiliation.

"Figures a savage like you would teach this way…" he growled beneath his breath.

He refused to be bested by a servant, and a Faunus no less, at something as trivial and useless to society as fencing. He'd never felt such burning spite for another person, not since Weiss left for Beacon without so much as a goodbye to him or even mother. Her disregard of his presence made his blood boil, and he vowed to always be better than her, but right now, he was beneath the shoes of a Faunus. And he hated it.

Kuro used a rag to clean off his forehead, dropping back into his stance to continue barraging the young heir with embarrassment and shame. "When you're ready, we'll begin again, and we'll keep going until you answer every question correctly… my young lord." The honey in his voice was the final straw for the boy.

Everything about this man was pulling apart the seams of Whitley's composure, and he made the decision that he had to be disposed of and banished from the manor forever, never to be seen again. His pale hand lunged forward past Kuro's blade, and grabbed onto his tie in a vice grip, ripping the garment free and pulling the butler down to his level.

In a spur-of-the-moment choice that would forever unhinge his life, Whitley pulled Kuro forward and smashed their lips together. The red-eyed man seemed to tense for a moment, pulling back slightly as the fifteen-year-old boy pushed his tongue into his mouth, refusing to let him go free until he was finished. Blue eyes closed tight as his tongue explored every nook and cranny of his new butler's oral cavern, noting that he tasted as soft and alluring as he had spoken previously.

When he'd finally let go of Kuro's tie, the butler did not hesitate to pull away from the boy beneath him, allowing both of them to notice just what position they were in. Whitley's hair was a mess, his face was flushed and his lips were swollen, and Kuro had landed himself atop him in a way that seemed to be him pinning the heir to the floor. If anyone were to find them this way, Kuro's head would be on a spike.

The two of them could only stare into the other's eyes, their breath coming out in long, drawn out puffs as heat danced across their features. Kuro's bangs had sprung free of his half-tail, the strands of dark hair falling in front of his eyes, and the want to brush them back was enough for Whitley to nearly choke on his own tongue.

What have I just done?!

Whitley Schnee is gayer than a box of crayons. that is all.