Cycle
((A/N:
I'm the only person in the universe who headcanons Ciel as a young trans man. Oh well, have a first-period fic anyway. Sorry if this squicks anyone out.
Summary: As far as monthly cycles go, Ciel Phantomhive would rather be a werewolf. Sebastian helps his master deal with the side effects of puberty. Ciel as female-to-male transgender. No pairings.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any related characters or concepts.))
The young master often called for Sebastian in the middle of the night. Rather, he called for him in some way or another more often than not. Sebastian had no reason to be surprised to hear his little Lord's faint voice at precisely thirty-one minutes past midnight, no, but there was an unsettling desperation in Ciel's voice that made the demon's pace as he made his way down the manor's many hallways that much quicker.
The first thing Sebastian could sense as he entered the Earl's bedchamber was the faint smell of blood, and his protective instincts kicked in immediately. Was his master hurt? Had someone snuck in and injured him? How serious were any wounds? A quick glance through the darkness of the room showed that Ciel was clutching his stomach. Preliminary theory: he'd been stabbed.
Further investigation once Sebastian reached Ciel's bedside quickly proved this wrong, however, as there was no sign of a wound on his stomach, the only blood in that area being the small amount that was smeared on his shirt from his hands.
Sebastian pulled the blanket aside.
Oh.
"You said this wouldn't happen until I was older," the Earl hissed, sounding almost betrayed. In a sense he was, Sebastian supposed, though betrayed by his body, not by his butler.
"I don't believe I said such a thing, my Lord." The demon said flatly, helping his charge out of bed. The sheets would have to be changed and washed, what a chore. Blood was so difficult to get out of white cloth. "Though if I did and I have turned out to be mistaken, my most sincere apologies."
"Tch." Ciel allowed himself to be led to the bathroom, seating himself on the toilet as Sebastian began to run a bath. "I fail to see the point of this monthly bleeding business."
"It means that your womb has prepared itself for childbearing, young master." The other replied, checking the temperature of the water. Ciel often liked his baths cool lately, but heat would most likely do him better this time.
"But it doesn't need to prepare itself for childbearing." The Earl insisted, crossing his arms. "I'm a man. I don't need any of this. When I'm grown I should be fathering children, not bleeding from my nether-regions because I am not carrying one."
Sebastian cast a sympathetic glance towards his master. "I'm well aware of that, my Lord. I'm afraid there is no more I can do about this physical issue than there was about your breasts. Your anatomy is unsympathetic, and I am no miracle worker."
Ciel pouted. The tub filled.
"Once you are cleaned up, I shall make you some chamomile tea to aid with any abdominal cramps you might have, and I will fetch a clean towel for you to lay upon." Sebastian said as he removed his Lord's nightshirt and helped him into the bath. "You'll have to spend the next few days abed as women do. I will tell the other servants that you have fallen ill and only I am to attend to you."
"Elizabeth and her mother are to visit tomorrow." Ciel sank wearily into the hot water. "What will you tell them?"
"Your illness is highly contagious and I cannot, in good conscious, allow them in your sickroom to see you, though they are, of course, welcome to come in for tea in the library."
"Mm. Hopefully that will stop Elizabeth." It probably wouldn't, but Sebastian knew Ciel could feign ill as well as the best of theatre performers. Were she to force her way into her fiancé's bedroom, he'd simply act his weakest and moodiest, and cough at regular intervals for believability. He'd done it before.
The youth only stayed in the bath for fifteen minutes, as he was not bathing to fully cleanse himself, rather more to get rid of the blood that had begun to run down his legs and generally feel less unpleasant. Sebastian dressed him in a fresh nightshirt and carried him back to bed, laying out a thick towel over the sheets. His charge tucked back into bed, he left the room to prepare a cup of chamomile tea with honey at record speed, just like he promised.
"Will that be all, my Lord?" The dutiful butler asked sweetly as the little Earl sipped his tea.
"I fancy I won't be sleeping any more tonight. Fetch me something to read." Ciel answered, surpressing a yawn. "And… stay. Here. All this women's nonsense my body is up to has left me in a black mood." Which, of course, was code for "If you leave, I'll most likely cry, so stay here in order to make it that my pride doesn't let me." Sebastian bowed slightly, retrieving a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and a chair for himself to sit in. The book, he handed to the boy, and the chair, he put close enough to the bed that his candelabra lit them both, but far enough away that he would not be encroaching upon his master's space.
"I'm still your Lord, then," the Earl mused. "A normal servant might call me 'milady' under such circumstances." Sebastian smiled.
"I'm not a normal servant, young master."
"No," Ciel affirmed. "You're not."
And it was better that way.