Title Kiss of a demon
Word Count: 1700
Warnings: PG due to the nature of the series...general romantic teasing on Sebastian's part.
Disclaimer: standard disclaimers apply. Nothing gained, nothing sold.

Kiss of a Demon.
by smilingcrescent

Ciel licks his lips free of cream, presses his hands together, and flicks his tongue against his teeth. He leans forward at the boy's off-handed comment, his elbows brushing the table. His fellow students recognize the change in his demeanor, but no one says much of anything.

"What was that?" he asks sharply. His eyes, like his tone, focus, though they can only see the one. But before they reply, he drops his hands, folding them neatly on his lap. He covers the lapse in attention with a smile- and with the childish mask back in place, he waits.

"...the P4 and their fags," Gilbert Harvey, a boy from the countryside estates with no sense of hierarchy to Ciel's way of thinking, explain readily enough. His cherubic face makes him seem younger yet, but he has a habit of squinting that masks any natural charm. "They're leaving tomorrow for a special study, leaving their dorms' next-in-charge behind. They'll be busy packing the whole night!" he's giddy with excitement.

The boy next to him, Albert Penn, drops his hands to his lap too, being playfully serious, but eagerness makes him blink rapidly. "I doubt the next-in charge will be as strict as the prefects." He's struggling to conceal a smile. "But...Professor Michaelis?" He asks in such a way that no one thinks he's marked out that final cat when the mice might play.

Harvey shrugs. "He's usually busy before tests...what with all the tutoring. And normally with students who've gotten y's or demerits."

Ciel frowns slightly, and adds, "The upperclassmen who are being left might be just as strict if they want the prefect's spots next year. But if it's a senior..." he allows a smile. "Then they may be well planning their own party." He wonders briefly what to say about Sebastian, but decides this may be a subject he ought to keep from. No one should think he knows any more or any less about the new warden who came to the school justbefore he did.

The boys all look at each other. Then they look at the rest of the House. Each one smiles, albeit for different reasons, and each one returns to his dessert.

Ciel opens the door to Sebastian's study, first listening for signs of children's voices and his butler's soft, slightly taunting tone. Not that one of the children would noticehis mocking.

Ciel coughs gently and walks with as much purpose as he can manage. He doesn't bother with niceties; informing Sebastian was never something to shy from. "The prefects and their fags are off for special study tomorrow. See if it has anything to do with the case."

Sebastian looks up from his spot by the bookcase. Of late, Ciel has begun to notice that he puts on an entirely different attitude when other students are looking—or at least, when they are being tutored. Almost like… he thinks. like my-but he breaks that thought off with a twist of his ring.

Sebastian's manner changes back to that of a servant when he sees Ciel. Though he is a devil of one, to be true. He stands smoothly, straightens his clothes, and dispels a few "scholarly signs" from his being—small ink stains on his gloves and tiny wrinkles around his eyes. The way he holds himself is more proper than before; as the manservant of an earl should be.

"Yes," Sebastian says in reply. His attentive manner is nearly perfect, except for the smile that quirks his lips. He waits a beat before continuing, "If I may?"

Ciel walks across the study, assuming position in one of the large, bulky seats. He crosses his feet at the ankles and nods curtly. "On with it." His voice carries his impatience, and a bare hint of regret. All these things Sebastian perceives in his tone and in the way he looks into his eyes.

"The boys will be with a member of the staff from the meeting. I've taken the liberty of investigating. This little venture seems quite benign; they're meeting with a scholar to assist their studies." He pauses. "Of course, I can check in on them upon occasion if the young master wishes it."

Ciel purses his lips, considering. "I need to know what they're up to, so, yes." He taps his finger on the armrest, his eyes downcast as he considers his next instruction.

Before he can start the orders, however, Sebastian leans forward, bringing their faces closer. He rests a pale hand on Ciel's shoulder, rubs a small circle from the base of Ciel's neck to the tense spot above Ciel's shoulder-blade. His hands are strong and pleasant, but the proximity—his lips—distracts all thought of words or orders right out of his head.

Color spreads across Ciel's cheeks and his shoulders tense all the more. Sebastian clucks his tongue with a stern, disapproving look made sly and mocking on his devilishly handsome face. "Don't tense up so. Your shoulders will ache for days, little master. Relax." He tilts his head, frowning. "I can't have you straining yourself, not on top of everything else."

Ciel scoffs trying to hide just how much the gesture startled him. "Tense shoulders is hardly something I need to worry about." Lifting his chin stubbornly, he seems at last to ignore the proximity. He does not flinch away this time. "I should like as much legwork done tonight as is feasible." His gestures bring them closer yet. He'll bump his cheek to Sebastian's lips, it seems.

But he turns his head, retaining the appropriate distance. Instead of panicked surprise, amusement (and what might be called domineering control on another person) transforms his face. He looks so like his father then, but with his mother's features.

With a nobleman's grace, Sebastian nods. He touches Ciel's cheek—turning it slightly to the side. He says nothing, and his lips spread to show teeth and tongue. "But of course." He repeats. "Before this is done, I'm afraid we might wish to review…Some of your finer skills are in need of tutoring." With that, he draws away, but his hands return to the dance and play of massage.

Ciel puts one hand on Sebastian's and guides it away. He has anger on his tongue, and a child's lingering fear in the set of his chin. But his words are soft and controlled, as is befitting a young earl. "I believe we could talk of these things." He says gently, more than he ought be able. "But I need no demonstration, Sebastian. I'll not learn romance from a demon."

Sebastian straightens, delicately raising an eyebrow "Romance, young lord?" Sebastian's polite expression breaks apart as he begins to laugh—to snicker. He doubles over, two pristine gloved hands over his long, red mouth.

"Why are you laughing?" Irked, Ciel flushes with as much anger as embarrassment.

"I meant your spying, young master. You hardly need many romance skills, considering you already have a fiancé. Spying and code. But if you so desire, I can teach you how to charm a woman, and how to kiss." He moves again closer so that Ciel can feel his warmth.

"Teach me your spying, Sebastian, but I've no need for any sort of—"

Sebastian touches a finger to Ciel's lips. The boy—at last—stops talking. "Then imagine there is a young lady." He slides his finger across Ciel's bottom lip. "Or a young man…who would loveto have a moment alone with you."

As this sinks in, Ciel shakes his head resolutely. Stubborn as a cat, and as unwilling to give affection.

With another click of the tongue, Sebastian removes his finger. "For certain people…wouldn't romance be the better way to receive that information?"

Ciel scoffs, a smug expression disguising any other emotions he might be feeling. "So you were speaking of romance, after all."

"On the contrary." Sebastian looks up, meeting Ciel's gaze coolly. "You have two workable aspects of your character. Haughty, intelligent earl," he pauses to bring attention to Ciel's bearing, and to the ring on his finger. "And a quiet, hardworking child. Occasionally sweet." He rearranges Ciel to his preferred school-boy posture. "I think you could do with a few extra acts…"

Glowering now, Ciel snaps. "Are you saying that I only have two sides? I should thi—"

Sebastian shakes his head. "But no, little master. You have other ways. Secret from the eyes of your peers and even the queen—plotting, vengeful Phantomhive, for example. I didn't mean to cheapen your tantalizing charms." Sebastian chuckles again. "Merely to point out that you have two public faces." He brushes a stray lock of hair away from Ciel's eye with one hand and gently raises Ciel's chin with the other.

Ciel's breath catches in his throat. Memories of being trapped, being stared at—being used by people with much less gentle hands- pile up in his mind, competing for attention. Disgust, anger, and fear are all strong, all first to surface.

Underneath, a confused- shameful- curiosity.

And softer, gentler memories of Mother, Aunt Anne, tousling his hair. Affectionate touch is something he rarely has the chance to experience since…

Ciel slaps Sebastian's hand away. "I won't play a romantic game to get information. I did fine with the Viscount, didn't I?"

Sebastian takes a step back, and stands up straighter before giving a deep bow. "Please forgive my intrusion." He keeps his face down, but Ciel is certain he's smiling.
Sebastian has played his final card for this gamble, and he waits for Ciel to make the next move. To tell him of the things they need do; to work out the plan for spying on the prefects. Ciel does not disappoint.

Sebastian waits with his hand to his chest, listening to the little lordling, thinking of his soft skin. His bright eyes. And the arrogance and anger that binds the boy to him yet.

Sebastian bides his time knowing that all things will pass…

And when the end comes, he will smile thus:

showing teeth and tongue.

For that is the prelude to a demon's kiss.

thoughts?