Power Play.

That damned Earl had gotten him drunk. Ciel evaluated the potential of the chessboard as he sipped the brandy. The blond watched him, amused and wanting. Feeling the eyes burning into him, the Earl raised his own – but Alois was already looking out of the dark window instead. Alois scowled jealously at the stars. His face was stroked on one side by the crackling firelight, though he was too preoccupied with the dark outside to notice it.

"You're playing me," Ciel accused with frustration, leaning back in his seat and scanning the board again for possibilities.

"Oh? And in what sense?" The blond asked. His eyes were back upon Ciel now, filled with amusement.

"All of it. This bloody…" He took a breath, grasping uselessly at thoughts he couldn't quite make coherent. "…bloody game, you could've won by now." Ciel's brow furrowed. "Because I'm drunk and because of that alone." He tacked on quickly. "However, when you're close to winning you withdraw. You're dragging this out, Trancy and I want to know why."

"The longer you sit, the more you drink." Blunt.

"You are trying to get me drunk then?"

"Well look at that, you caught me at last. The little dog likes to take his time… But I'm sure there are a few cases when you'd be quick and easy." Ciel's cheeks blistered red with humiliation.

"Vulgar."

"Truth usually is."

"…I'm going to bed." Ciel rose to his feet with one last reluctant glance at the white pieces he had carefully commanded. He then began towards the door, unsteady on his path.

"Ciel."

Click, click, click.

"Ciel.

Stop."

Click, click, click.

The chess board clattered sharply to the floor and the pieces cascading down with it. Ciel stopped walking and eyed the vicious hand that was now wrapped tightly around his wrist.

"Naughty Ciel; I said stop. You're going to stay." Alois demanded, his eyes flicking nervously to the door. Sebastian wasn't far and he could not afford the little brat shouting for his demon. He clapped his hand over his mouth and was immediately met by an undignified and failed attempt to push it off. Alois wrapped his other arm around his waist to lock Ciel's body against him. He felt Ciel's body, stiffened in fear and anger, as his hand snaked up the neat white shirt. He brushed his thumb roughly over his nipple. A demented grin lit Alois' features at the involuntary, whimpering breath that pushed out against his hand. Ciel twisted in disgust, trying to escape him as he pinched.

"You're so cute when you're drunk, Ciel, so much more like me." He whispered in his ear, amused at how weak the Earl was. The years of tramping around the village had (if nothing else), gifted him with a physical strength greater than the short, intoxicated boy in front of him. The blond watched him writhe with pleasure. Not love, no, but sadism.

Alois turned the younger around and grabbed his shoulders, slamming him up against the wall and pinning his hands on either side of his head. What a thrill it was to exercise power over someone else, have them bend to his will rather than being bent to theirs.

There were other ways to silence that sweet, desperate mouth.

Pressing his body against his to pin him in place, Alois forcefully took Ciel's first kiss. His tongue forced its way past his gentle, tight lips. He explored his mouth eagerly, wincing in pain as Ciel bit him. The blond simply punished him by grinding his hips against his and digging his nails into his wrists, assaulting the boy's fragile conceptions of tradition and romance. He knew how to train people into doing as they were told. Of course he did.

That helpless writhing was adorable.

Ciel inwardly shuddered at the experience. He was not a stranger to such perversions and he despised them. He hated Alois for this – but his hatred… It had been long since he had been moved to such indignation and fury. It was familiar and as comforting as a devil's claws across your eyes.