I'd like to thank that Guest reviewer who reviewed my very first story, and left me a beautiful, well written compliment. That motivated me to write this second ficlet oneshot. Thank you. After reading your review, my self esteem took a huge leap.
This is as close to SebaCiel fluff I will ever get. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. If I owned Ciel Phantomhive, however, my life would be complete.
Ciel Phantomhive has nightmares all the time.
He is seemingly haunted by everything. Every experience he has can transform into something- a ghoul, a ghost, a goblin. His family burned, they burned alive in the maw of that fire as the Phantomhives celebrated the joyous birth of their young and only son. They left him in a world of evils, of death, and of torture. He was used and abused by the devils of a 'secret society', a society of humdrum and hokum and hooligans that branded him and scarred him. They scarred him physically. They scarred him mentally. They scarred him emotionally.
Then he called upon the creature of the night. The devil's spawn, the killer and consumer of souls, the demons itself. It wrapped darkness around the innocent young boy, one who had renounced everything good and gentle, and sucked him in into another abyss. This carried nightmares worse than the others, nightmares of the isolation and despair and sadness variety instead. For one day, the animalistic being that swept him from the depths of cruelty will claim his life in slender, magnificent hands.
His demise takes the form of a butler. It is personified by a tall man, tall with layers of slender muscle. The man has raven locks that frame his perfect, then face. Pink lips tell him lies, against his express wishes, and each and every day, Ciel drowns in crimson red eyes. They are cherry red, like his life essence, his blood. And they always stare him down, smirk sarcastically, and reveal the butler's true nature. He is a beast, he is a killing machine. And he cares not for the master, as much as this beast insists that his loyalties lie with the intelligent, tiny, and frightened little cyclops. He doesn't believe those lies.
And oh, what lovely lies the man-beast tells. He whispers them in the ear of his master as gloved hands absentmindedly caress locks of his hair. He tells them to his master as he unveils tea and perfectly shaped cookies in the afternoon. He yells them to his master in the middle of a bloody battle, as the boy lies hurt and unmoving on the ground.
"Young master, you look wonderful."
"Young master, so hardworking you are."
"Young master, I shall always be at your side!"
Filthy, pathetic, beautiful, lies.
Lies, and this child, a mere teen, wants to believe them. So badly, So, so badly.
For Sebastian, as the beast was named, sugarcoated the truth and buttered his bread wisely. Ciel might have looked stunning, but Sebastian was trying to make him blush. Ciel was exactly the opposite of hardworking-lazy to a fault. And no, Sebastian would not always be there. The day would come when Ciel had received his revenge, when his soul was at it's prime. His life would be taken, and the butler, his beloved pawn, would leave forever.
Such lies.
The earl goes through his days with an air of nonchalant aloofness that is usually associated with most businessmen. He is a businessman at heart, and a rather good one. But that mask that he dons each morning must be removed, and it is removed by Ciel Phantomhive at night. At night demons crawl and implant their nasty little bodies in the boy's impressionable brain. He screams, terror filled howls marring the night air and piercing the sky like lead bullets. Lead bullets of pain, and utter sadness.
He holds onto blankets at night, wraps them around his trembling form. All senses of dignity are lost at night, when the shadow become monsters and the moon their leader. The moon bears it's terrifying grin, and the monsters are illuminated by the flickers of a warm fireplace. He attempts to remind himself of better things, of happier things, but there are none to think about. His tears waterfall down pale cheeks, as he chokes back sobs so that wretched, beautiful demon will not hear.
Then morning comes, he climbs back into his large canopy bed. Ciel pretends to be asleep, hoping that the butler will not notice his tear stained cheeks and red, raw eyes. He yawns when the demon shakes him, whispering 'good morning, young master', and then lists off the selection for the days breakfast, which Ciel makes. He hands the boy a cup of tea, as sinful hands undress then redress the young earl. After the morning routine, the stoic, proud, and damaged boy goes about the menial labors of a businessman. As always.
Tonight is different. Tonight, the young boy screams in the middle of the night, yet again. A drawn out howl slices through the murky air, and tears wash his cheeks of pain. Ciel sits up straight in his thin nightdress, shivering and hoping that the butler did not hear him. But the hope is somewhat silly. His butler is the devil, the devil is he. Why wouldn't he hear? Why wouldn't he advance, lies out in the open and fake smiles glowing in the darkness?
And when Sebastian hears the sounds of sorrow, he comes running at top speed. The master is cold and frightened, and what kind of butler would he be if he could not remedy the illness? Not one hell of a butler, certainly not. He opens the bedchamber door a crack, peeking in to see his boss, his master, trembling and teary.
Sebastian walks over, undoing the buttons of his tailed overcoat, and meticulously setting it to lie across Ciel's chair. This reveals a striped vest underneath, another article of clothing that joins the tailcoat.
Ciel watches his butler undress with an expression of awe. What is the demon doing? Why is he rendering himself nude in front of his master, whose eyes he has petitioned to keep innocent for years? He tries to make himself look away, and salvage at least some of his bruised dignity, but the earl's brain is focused on the hellishly beautiful man in front of him.
"Young master has had a nightmare again, I presume? I believe I have a remedy." He offers the boy one of his frequent smirks. Ciel, though he is terrified, frightened, and chilled to the core, finds his personality and pouts at the older man.
Sebastian draws back the covers. Ciel is speechless. Is Sebastian trying to...get in BED with him? A light rose colored blush tints his cheeks as the boy scoots far away, to the opposite corner of the bed. Anywhere to get away from HIM.
Sebastian chuckles, a deep melodious sound that Ciel will kill to hear more often. His lithe, muscular arms wrap around the boy and draw him to his bare chest. Ciel squeaks, an ungentlemanly sound, and writhes to free himself from the demon's grasp. Sebastian is relentless, and keeps the boy firmly in place.
Ciel realizes the utter horrible irony. It dawns on him, a sunset in his bleak desert mind. On a night that is not tonight, in a place that is not Phantomhive Manor, in a time that seems as distant as a passing ship, he will be in this position again. The demon will near, closer, till two bodies become one. And Ciel will feel his life being ripped from his body, taken away by this beautiful death. A beautiful demise.
He feels the warm skin of his butler thaw the frozen pit of his heart, and for now, Ciel is happy, bitterly happy, to be here. Here, ironically safe in the arms of his beautiful demise.
AN: Amberstar of Randomclan is never letting this one go. Dammit.