Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana, Phobia to Neneko

Warning: Yaoi

AN: Based on an instance within 'Phobia' in which Grell challenges Ciel to a 'pole dancing battle' that Sebastian immediately proceeds to imagine. Rawr. XD

"Young Master," Sebastian calls out as he takes his place amongst one of the plush sofas adorning an unfrequented guest-room. "Are you quite ready?"

An irritated shout is his answer.

"Of all the ridiculous things to make me wear!"

The complaint is expected, amusing, and once Ciel trots into view-

Absolutely ineffective.

"I'm dangerously close to taking action against this ridiculous cat fetish of yours, Sebastian," the earl growls, the sharp click of a heel echoing in the dimly lit room as he stomps a foot in an endearingly haughty manner.

"It was naught but admiration, Young Master," Sebastian grins, a lascivious curve of pale lips and shimmering fangs. "A fetish is what it became as soon as you entered the room, I think. But I must say that the aspects of a feline suit you."

"Is that so," Ciel scoffs. Sarcasm lacks bite as it is veiled by a blush the color of poppies in bloom, his body assuming a stance that is at once defiant and completely abashed.

"It is," Sebastian murmurs, admiring the costume that he was- perhaps foolishly- allowed to choose. "Very much so, My Lord."

The scrutiny of a blazing sanguine gaze causes Ciel to stiffen, paralyzed by the electric tension that strikes the air between he and the demon. A radiant sheen of violet glows subtly in the depths of those eyes as they feast on the sight of him, appraising the unusual garb from top to bottom:

A pair of kitten's ears nestled against either side of a crown of cobalt tresses, their bases edged by tufts of soft ebony fur. The simplest of leotards stretched taught over the shape of his frame, speckled with the coloration of a wild-cat; mimicry of a leopard's pelt. The scarce line that envelops flesh too indecent for show also bears the same fur trim as the false ears, running midnight trails along the rose-flushed skin of Ciel's thighs. The cuffs of fabric upon his wrists follows the scheme, followed by the stockings that barely reach his knees, held in place by garters and hidden at the foot by a pair of polished black shoes.

"Come now," the devil chastises with a smile. "You know that this sort of clothing is expected of one who pole-dances. In fact, I daresay I might have been a bit conservative. Grell is sure to wear something exotic and provocative, as most involved in this 'profession' do. If your intent is to best him you'll simply have to outdo him with your dancing, and in order to ensure that it won't be as atrocious as your waltz, Young Master, I must insist that you show me how well you've learned what I've taught you."

"Thorough even when teaching harlotry," Ciel answers contemptuously, a hand resting on either side of his hips.

At this the butler chuckles. "Especially then, Young Master. Won't you begin now? Remember that this is simply another challenge to be won. Moreover, I am the only one watching you."

A pout graces the earl's expression, the fullness of a lower lip surpassing its topmost twin. "Not then, you won't be. Undertaker will be there and so will that bloody maniac of a death God!"

Sebastian murmurs richly, his voice gliding against the milky flesh of Ciel's body and making the finest of hairs stand on end. "Perhaps… but that too is easily remedied. Watch me as I watch you, My Lord, and I promise that no one else will matter."

Livid azure gleams beneath candlelight as Ciel glares through a singularly exposed eye, mouth poised to refute the tender reassurance. Interruption arrives at precisely the right moment; just as a breath hisses between Ciel's lips and a miniscule tremor of his disagreement meets the air.

"If you stall any longer, I promise that the Latin lesson that we've omitted today will be thrice as difficult tomorrow," Sebastian threatens playfully. "Whatever has you so nervous?"

Ciel's confession surprises them both.

"It's because it's you," he whispers in frustration. "You… watching me… is what makes me nervous!"

"I assure you that you have nothing to fret over. Do you wish to concede to that arrogant, frivolous creature?" The demon asks with mild disgust.

"O-Of course not!"

"Well then," the one-man audience nods. A flourish of gloved fingers motions towards a column of cold metal that kisses both ceiling and floor.

Ciel takes a single step and is reminded, "Remember that your every move must echo allure, My Lord."

The comment kindles a raging need to surpass Sebastian's expectations. The earl's walk evolves into a practiced saunter, back arched as his hips adopt a compelling sway. Upon reaching the pole a hand presses to its smooth surface only to quickly retreat, seemingly displeased by its temperature.

"It's bloody freezing," Ciel grumbles in confirmation. "And shouldn't there be music?"

"This is an act of seduction, Young Master, and seduction is a song all its own," Sebastian answers in a pleasantly sunken octave. "Let your heartbeat become the rhythm. Allow your breathless voice to form a melody. Then fill any void that remains with the movement of your body, and I guarantee that you will not lose."

The butler's instruction is a siren-call to the smaller male, who releases a breath that neither knew he had been restraining. Fascination ensnares the interest of keen ruby orbs as Ciel turns around, his back turned to the pole. Nails coated in deep licorice lacquer produce dimly metallic sounds that rise to shrieks when enhanced by Sebastian's inhuman perception. However, his all-too-human loins are what suffer as the earl presses his backside to the lifeless rod, lithe body as taut as a drawn bowstring.

The coy moans that are offered are familiar, yet uniquely delectable within this context. As Ciel slides to the floor his flesh never loses contact with the pole. Sebastian decides that although it is foolish, he is immeasurably jealous of the inanimate object before him, for it knows not what a treasure is pressed to its entirety.

"Mm…" Silken hair tossed behind him, the earl holds a stance that leaves him crouched and perched upon his shoes alone, rump displayed for Sebastian's roaming stare. The fur that lies there wraps about the rounded skin, meeting at its center, but even with such an obstruction the view is lovely.

A wanton gasp accompanies the twist of a neck as Ciel faces his servant, hands tugging upward, and Sebastian is forced to swallow a rapturous snarl. The midnight fabric sinks into the valley of his master's backside, the whole of the rounded muscle bare and flawless.

"Improvising?"

The rhetorical question is molten, roused; the thick sound of a shattered gem trickling into a pool of honey.

"If I remember correctly," Ciel sighs languidly, "it was something that you mentioned I ought to try now and again."

"Well done, Young Master," Sebastian claps. The muted noise caused by the clash of cotton-cloaked hands joins the piercing resonance of heels against solid wood; Ciel's body becomes a fluid line of lustrous skin and shifting cloth as he rises once more.

For a moment, a sapphire eye appraises the metal beam before the promising 'tap' of dainty feet encircle it slowly. Hunting, stalking, calculating- a shrewd composure that all felines seem to know. Ciel finally settles a hand upon a spot he's deemed favorable, spinning on one shoe as the other hooks to the pole and brings him back to the ground in a graceful turn.

Knees splay wide and the earl teases, hips thrusting upwards until balance alone keeps the apex of his thighs from brushing against the icy embrace of tempered steel. It is unclear whom is closest to relinquishing control at that very moment. As Sebastian takes note of the glassy haze in Ciel's hooded eye his own frame is shaken by an unexpectedly sweet tremor.

A cacophony of sounds blend together into an enthralling song- two hearts beating fevered pulses in tandem, a set of shallow breaths, and a pair of tentative groans. Will and body exhausted, Ciel sinks onto the floor, kneeling, and fixes his gaze upon Sebastian shamelessly.

"Meow," the earl purrs, hands held high above himself as if posing for surrender…

Or rather, invitation.

No longer content with mere sight, Sebastian finally rises from his seat, physical hunger causing a prickle in his fingertips that only the touch of Ciel's skin can quell. The spellbinding youth sits before him- waiting, panting- all places of interest swollen and ready, his cheeks a brilliantly scalding red…

"What ever it is in your mind," Ciel orders rapidly, "stop thinking about immediately!"

With a startled blink of his lust-hazed eyes Sebastian obeys, the fantasy shattered.

"I don't even want to know" murmurs the younger male, though the curious sheen of one azure iris implies otherwise. "I'm certain it was as unrealistic as could be!"

It might have been so to some degree, the demon thinks. Though the leopard decorum of Ciel's clothing had been fetching, the boy himself was hardly as imposing as such a wildcat would be. With a pride that warred with such a sweet appearance, he ought to have represented a feline better known for ferocity confined to a smaller build, such as-

"Next time I shall have to imagine the pelt of an Ocelot," Sebastian whispers to himself, the vision of his wicked daydream tucked away…

But hardly forgotten.

AN: Thanks for any reviews ;3