lovelovelove / a kuroshitsuji one-shot

When Ciel fell, he fell HARD.

Something about those pursed lips, those piercing eyes, that calm demure just lured him in. It was like a bug to light, a silent flutter that only nature could fully comprehend. It couldn't be explained—it just WAS. That was their relationship: a stillness everyone was aware of, but only they really understood. They could depend on in each, they generally cared—they held no one above each other. And there was nothing TO hold beneath them: they were diverse. No comparisons could ever be made. Nothing could top what they had.

It was hard to put a finger on. His existence in itself was enough. He didn't have to say anything, do anything—just be. And that was enough for Ciel. He had that impact on people. And Ciel needed it. He couldn't get enough of it. Enough of his touch, his warmth, his voice, his being. No matter how much he got, he wanted more. He wanted his attention, he wanted his words, he wanted his presence. Everything he did and said shook Ciel to the core.

And those nights when they'd sit alone, caressing each other, not ever growing tired of it—those were the best. They memorized each other's every curve and crevice each night, like it was something new. Their lips met and made music without making a sound. The soft thumps of their hearts were in sync, being one, when they became one. Ciel's soft moans would fill the room, bouncing off the walls, added heat to their already hot bodies. Those skilled fingers did wonders to the boy, touching his face and lips, making him want more.

They loved each other. Was it love? Was it dependency? Was it loneliness?

Whatever it was, Ciel was holding onto it, and never letting go.

The End.