Author's Note: First fanfic in quite some time! I had this bunny going through my head for a while before actually sitting down to write it, along with a few other Undertaker/Grell stories. :3 I'm not sure if I'll cut it off as a fluffy oneshot or continue: Tell me if you want me to continue it! And my apologies if any of the dialogue sounds off or weirdly paced, most of this story was written around 2 in the morning.
Regardless:
Disclaimer: I do NOT by any means own Black Butler or its characters. That's all lovely miss Yana Toboso's.

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"William, you've got to be kidding me!"

William sighed as he heard the redhead whine the same phrase from behind him again, for the fifth time within the span of five minutes. Turning on his heel to purposefully make the redhead run into him, he glared down at him. "I'm not kidding. You're lucky that this is all the punishment I'm giving you, and that all of your work is suspended while you're there. He's waiting on you, now shoo."

Grell whined again, crossing his arms and staring up at him. "But it's no fair! I don't like the Undertaker..at all~ I will not work for him!"

"Yes you will. Shoo before I drag you there by your own hair."

Grell sighed a moment and clung to the raven-haired reaper's arm with a sad pout to try to convince him once more, darting away when Will only raises his other hand to smack him. "Fine, fine! You big bully~! It's on you if I die since he likes corpses better!" Grell smiled at the awkward, embarrassed look on Will's face as he turned to step through a portal through the normal realm. He knew Will and Undertaker went back quite a while, and that Will thought of the elder ex-reaper as a big brother. No doubt Grell was at least going to get some dirt and blackmail him the next time he gets pissed off..

Grell sighed, staring at the Undertaker's door for a long moment as he stood in front of it with his arms crossed, considering bailing and going to see his Bassy instead. While it did seem like a marvelous idea, he knew he was teetering on a death penalty from the higher-ups. No matter how much Grell liked to act up, he wasn't about to die for it. With a defeated and bored sigh, he reached his hand up to knock on the wooden doors in front of him. Knowing he wouldn't get any reply only from knocking, though, he cracked open the door to call inside. "Undertaker? Are you in..? It's Grell."

He heard the telltale too-drawn-out creepy laugh and rolled his eyes, stepping inside. "Cut it out, just tell me what I need to do."

He froze when he looked up to see the Undertaker was there, holding his chin. "Ah, m'dear, you're here! Alright, alright, if you're so eager." He let go of Grell's chin with a smile when Grell glared at him, motioning over to a corner where several messy piles of books laid. "Move those back to the bookshelves down in the basement. I have to go out for a few burials today, so it would be a huge help~"

"Sure." Grell sighed and nodded, glancing at him. "I'll get it done..~ You can go now."

He glanced up, frowning at the Undertaker's serious look. "Look after the shop while I'm gone, won't you?"

"..Sure."

The Undertaker didn't seem pleased with this answer, holding Grell's chin again. "Sutcliff. Look after the shop. I'm not joking, for once. Please take this more seriously."

Grell nodded again, rather off-put by his change in demeanor at such a simple subject, but unsurprised at it still having its intended effect. "...Yes sir, Undertaker..?"

Undertaker nodded again, the silly grin back on his face as he loaded the coffins in the room onto his cart, waving as he leaves. "Alright~ Bye Grell~"

Grell waved meekly, sighing softly and going over, starting in on the long chore. Unsurprisingly, after a couple of trips, he was bored out of his mind and refused to do more work for the time being, sitting down instead to look through the books. Some classic poetry, some oddities, some books that made him seem like a sociopath...and Grell stopped as he came across one book particularly well-kept, its leather cover almost dust free, a bookmark neatly tucked between the pages. In gold lettering on the front, it read only: DIARY.

Even Undertaker kept a diary. Well, Grell thought, I really shouldn't peek...but I do have to wonder what that madman would write about in a diary.. Keeping that thought in mind, he flipped to the bookmarked page, the most recent entry written in a beautiful scrawl that still managed to have a tone of elegance.

Scanning the page, Grell read several lines.

'Dear Diary, November 7th, 1890

William's only just informed me of a new visitor I'll be having daily. Grell Sutcliff. I'm not sure whether I should be annoyed or offended since he's being sent here as punishment..Either I'm really that bad or William has a cruel way of doing his friends favors. Likely both, but no matter. I can hardly contain my excitement. He'll be coming within a couple of days. I'll finally get to call him by name face-to-face, and get to see him every day..no matter to me if he hates me or not. I'll still be happy to see him happy because of whatever happened to him that day. That has always been a difference of his. He always has a smile on his face regardless. And now I've gone and ran out of room blabbering on about him. Wonderful, 'Taker.'

Curious from the Undertaker's odd ramblings, Grell set the book down, finishing up his chore before sitting in the back room to read several more entries, deciding to flip to the first entry instead to read it. He noticed with a grimace, the scrawl here was much less legible.

'Dear Diary, December 10th, 1866

I'm not one to keep diaries. I rarely like to write. However, that therapist Will forced on me is making me do it. "Say what you want in it, what you feel" she says to me. The truth? I hate the idea of doing this. It won't make things better. How the hell does writing help you deal with death? That's a mentality the reapers always had. Write about death enough, and you'll stop caring about it.
I despise them for it. Nobody stops caring about death. They create a lack of attachment to the people in their list, that's all. But it's easy enough to find someone who will make them fear death. I learned that the hard way.
I don't fear death. I feel a hatred toward her death, and I would like to meet my own. I bet this will bring up concerns, but I'm writing the truth. I miss her, and..oh fuck this'

Grell blinked several times, a concerned frown crossing his face before flipping between the two entries curiously. Such a big change..But what could have caused it? There was no helping it, Grell had to know now. He flipped through, reading every entry. None of them stuck out to him, and in the beginning, there seemed to be only a couple every year, usually written angrily.

Then one caught his eye.

'Dear Diary, April 24th, 1883

I went back to the Library for the first time since her death. I hadn't expected it to change so much, but it had. Our humble little community grew into quite a bustling little place, it seems. I notice..I feel happy. Not because of the increase in people there..but because of one in particular.
Everyone was the same, you see. Everyone but one. Among the sea of black and brunette and blonde that I was watching as I searched for William's new office. Then, I just saw a bright flash of red as it darted past me.'

Grell nearly dropped the book. No, he couldn't have been..He couldn't be the reason Undertaker became happy again. That was impossible. He'd done nothing. Fueled by his curiosity, he kept reading.

'I followed the red to William's office. I listened to their conversation as I waited my turn, rather surprised. He was flirtatious. He talked back. He had emotion. He smiled from the moment I first saw him onward.
I'm not sure of his name, but I'll most certainly ask William. I'm not sure why..but..his smile is contagious. I'm very happy I saw him..even if I never met him. I'll learn more, though. I'll smile more, to try to give the effect his beautiful smile had on me to others. I swear. That's my new goal for life. 'Taker'

Grell shut the diary, holding his hand over his mouth. Impossible..he..he'd saved Undertaker? He'd made him smile again..He'd never even noticed him. He felt guilty, but happy. Then crushingly curious. Did Undertaker just admire him, or have a crush on him? He found part of himself hoping it was the latter, though he wasn't sure why. He'd figure that out before long though..he muttered the thought to himself as he continued to flip through the pages, watching as the mood improved the further he went as he learned more. His name, his face, his personality, his voice, his beauty, his everything, all of it, was described happily in this detail. And in the December of 1883, after a huge record of pages per year (nearly a hundred compared to the previous five), Grell found the line he was looking for, but wasn't sure if he would find.

'I think I've fallen in love with Grell Sutcliff.'

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There you go! :3 Thank you for reading, and please review to let me know what you think~