Lavender
It's his favorite part of the day, after the guests have gone home and the servants have disappeared understairs to do whatever they do at night. The bathroom is clouded with lavender scented steam, and Sebastian is carefully--so carefully--peeling away his clothing just as a good butler should. Jacket, vest, and pants are precisely folded and hung so the steam will gently press them back into shape before they're put away, shirt is puddled on the floor around his feet to be discreetly taken away, and Sebastian is kneeling by his feet, contemplating his sock garters.
One hand smooths up Ciel's leg from ankle to knee, stroking the thin cashmere almost reverently before slipping the button loose and rolling the sock down precisely. Ciel shivers at the intimate touch, and he can feel Sebastian's wicked smirk almost pressed against his thigh as he repeats his actions on the other leg. Soon, all that's left is his underpants, and quick, smart fingers loop around the elastic, slowly tugging it down.
The nudity barely registers with Ciel; Sebastian's his butler, a servant, and being naked in front of him is almost like being naked in his own room alone. He trusts Sebastian fully, a hand on his shoulder to brace himself as he lifts first one foot, then the other, and the drawers are discarded. What catches his breath in his throat is the way Sebastian's eyes seem to glow in the dim light and the wry twist of his lips as his fingertips trail up the side of his leg as he stands.
The water is just a bit too hot as he steps in, flushing his skin a rosy pink, but not so hot that he can't stand it. He settles in, relaxing in the warmth, and sighs softly as he feels Sebastian's hands come up to knead his shoulders. Even over the scented water, he can smell Sebastian's subtle, tasteful cologne--ambergris, of course, and something spicy sweet, like carnation. There's only the faintest taste of gunpowder on the back of his tongue, and he finds himself touching the tip of his tongue to his lips to catch more of it. The soft splashing as Sebastian prepares a wash cloth is soothing, and he leans forward, resting his head on arms folded over the side of the tub.
The cloth is slightly scratchy through the velvety smooth bubbles as it glides across his back. Sebastian is thorough but gentle, precise in his duties. The warm water cascades down his ribs and washes away the soap, followed by small handful of water cupped against his skin to sweep away any particularly stubborn bubbles. The air is so sleepy and languid that he almost jumps when Sebastian's arms circle his thin chest and thumbs just brush against nipples peaked with lazy arousal.
A moan rises, unbidden, and his eyes slip to half mast as Sebastian smooths the cloth across his chest with one hand, rolling a nipple between the thumb and forefinger of the other. The thick weight of the steam and heavy arousal make it hard to breathe, his chest heaving with the effort. His head lolls back onto Sebastian's shoulder, damp hair running rivulets of water down the butler's front, soaking his shirtfront and rendering its thin material see-through. Sebastian's fingers continue their sweet torture as nails scratch up the side of his throat, washrag lost among the fragrant bubbles. A hand cups Ciel's jaw, gently tilting his head into a guise of ultimate submission.
The hand at his chest ventures downward, slipping beneath the water into obscurity. A touch here, on his hip. There, along the outer edge of a thigh. Again at the knee, hefting it up and shifting him around before it plunges beneath the smooth foam again and lingers, tracing hypersensitive lines up his inner thigh to his cock, then bypassing it altogether to press firmly against his pubis. Ciel gives a stuttering cry and falls back against him with a splash, water softly ringing as it drips from the bath onto the floor. One hand reaches blindly toward him, clutching desperately at his sleeves, his tie, his hair, as the other feebly clings to the hand manipulating him.
"Se--Sebastian!" His voice is low and deep, a hint at the man's voice he hasn't yet developed, but breathy. The fingers in Sebastian's hair tighten as he shoves Sebastian's hand to where he wants it most. Sebastian's smile is all vicious teeth against his bared throat. The first slow, thoughtful stroke draws a keening sound from the boy that Sebastian barely manages to muffle by covering his mouth.
"Shh, young master," he says, the sound of hundreds of hissing snakes buzzing behind those velvet tones. "Meirin is only in the next room, turning down your bed. You wouldn't want her to hear you, would you?" Ciel whimpers urgently, hips bucking into his touch even as he shakes his head "no."
Ciel shudders as Sebastian's hand continues its work. Fingers press into his mouth, and he nips at them gently, catching the pads between his teeth before sucking on them, eyes drifting closed against the onslaught.
"Lean forward, young master," Sebastian instructs, gently guiding Ciel into a kneeling position against the far wall of the tub. The metal is cool against his fevered skin. Sebastian's hands smooth over his arse almost reverently. Ciel looks back over his shoulder to see Sebastian smoothing bathing lotions over his fingers and bites his lip in anticipation.
The first finger glides over his entrance nonchalantly, spreading the cream before it returns to press its way inside. Ciel's breath escapes him in a hiss as it sinks in to the third knuckle smoothly, then withdraws, only to return with more cool lotion and a partner. Sebastian's hands know him inside and out as they probe and prod within him, coaxing him closer to orgasm with each caress. His knees buckle. He sags, his entire world become focused on the hand on his backside, the fingers pressing inside him, ruthlessly tugging his pleasure from his body.
It's good enough like this, but when Sebastian's fingers curl just so, and the pleasure spikes dizzy white light behind his eyelids, Ciel finds he can't control his mouth anymore. Blessings and curses, promises and please pour from between his lips as Sebastian presses clever fingers against his prostate. When a hand wraps around his cock and pumps once, Ciel's own fingers go white in the knuckle where he is gripping the edge of the metal tub. His vision blurs sharply and the tension within him uncoils so fast it leaves him breathless and stunned. His cock throbs, splattering lines of white across the side of the tub and his chest.
Slumping bonelessly against Sebastian's chest, he barely registers as his semen is washed away, eyes already drooping closed as he's pulled from the tub and dried tenderly, almost asleep as his night gown is tugged over his head and he is scooped into powerful arms. In the bedroom, Meirin's glasses have fogged over and she's clinging to one of the posters, but Sebastian just shoos her off with an enigmatic expression and tucks his young charge in for the night. The boy murmurs softly in his sleep, curling to his side as Sebastian brushes his hair from his face and smiles.