YEAUUH, so I just finished my edits, looking back on my terrible writing was tragic, but all the chaps shall be returned and a new update within the week! So re-eat this shit then get ready to load your pants with more smuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-homosexualfornication.
Ciel stared out the dark-pained window and admired the brightly shining moon that could be seen clearly through the immaculately clean glass surface. It was so clear in fact that the smoke that rolled off the slate-haired youth's tongue in slow swirls looked as if it were surrounding the moon itself. It was past midnight. Ciel took a deep inhale of the light colored cigar in his right hand. They were usually a sickening brown color, but ciel purchased the fine tobacco that was wrapped in fresh white paper. He'd picked up this habit sometime in the year between his fourteenth and fifteenth birthdays. He enjoyed the gentle burn in his throat with almost a bit of masochism. He liked the way it felt, not in the way he liked cakes or sugar, but in the surreal, nostalgic and tragic way that he enjoyed lingering on memories of his past. The burn gave him a sense of his past, of the day when his parents died in an 'accidental' fire. Thinking about this ciel realized it wasn't almost masochistic, but that's exactly what it was. Pain was a soft relenting reminder of what had happened in his past and what would happen in his future. Truthfully, he loved it.
If he loved this pain, the gentle, the soft, the almost non-existent, maybe he'd love other sources of pain as well. Hesitantly, ciel brought the tip of his burning cigar near the inside of his forearm. He could feel the heat coming off of it and became more timid in his movement. Ciel took in a deep breath and thrust his hand toward his wrist, only to feel the slick material of a gloved hand stopping his.
"Master, I take that as not the cleverest idea on your part." The demon objected, not wearing his typical smirk, his tone warning, threatening.
"Why is this any business of yours?" The boy all but whispered. He was in the sort of mood that had him scripting every word as he spoke it. Bold and yet hesitant, careful and careless in every way.
"I assure you, every movement you so choose to make is my business."
Ciel scoffed and turned his head back into the moon's direction. It reminded him of himself, high and bright, but only on reflected light, unable to cast any of his own, just stealing it from someone else. That person is Sebastian and the stolen light, what Ciel got credit for, was not light at all but the most beautifully cimmerian darkness. He cast that darkness upon each peace on his board, even the demon who feigned knighthood.
"What do you want from me?" Ciel asked, all seriousness creeping into his words.
"I am not entirely sure what you are inquiring, Master." The butler stated, a look of half-interest playing plainly on his face.
"It's... Nothing." The boy actually whispered this time.
As Sebastian turned around, seeing his young master had no intention of going to bed (his original intention for entering the room) and began to exit when a voice suddenly spurring his name caught him in step.
"Sebastian. Can demons feel pain?" The boy asked, contemplating the correct words to say and how to put them. Careful yet careless.
The man chuckled. "We are living beings, not cadavers in the ground, young master. We are quite capable of feeling anything a human can." He answered, not even mildly considering the insult in the way he worded his statement.
"And do you receive sick enjoyment out of it, like I... like some do." He stumbled slightly, but continued with his open inquiries.
"It depends on who's inflicting it." The butler answered smoothly, striding back toward his master to stand again at his side. He could see ciel was awaiting an elaboration, and so he continued.
"Most demons find pain and torture quite pl-" Sebastian drew sudden intake of breathe when ciel's lit cigar found its way onto the barely exposed skin of his neck. He knew already Ciel had thrown it, as not even while standing could he reach up that far. He quickly picked up the small butt of a smoke, now unlit, and placed it into the crystal ashtray on Ciel's desk.
"Do you enjoy playing with fire, young master?" It was meant to be a thought, and he did not usually have slip ups. He could tell that one infliction had managed to affect him, if only a little. He'd also taken a bit of the careful and careless mood Ciel seemed to ooze as of tonight. Only, like the demon he was, he removed the carefulness. Ciel only scoffed in response. He wasn't in the mood to rant about being insulted by a lowly butler. He had a strange foreign feeling clouding his mind tonight. He could tell it wasn't literal, not something you'd say out loud or even really think about too much, but he wasn't feeling regal or proud like he usually was. He felt flawed. He felt broken, and he liked it.
"Oh Sebastian, what is a game that lacks thrills?"
"A very dull one indeed, master." Sebastian smirked.
It was on nights like these that Sebastian truly contemplated he and ciel's relationship. They were close but not intimate, bound but not affectionate. It was quite curious and Sebastian always had a habit of plucking on the final string of sin that ciel had yet to commit. That was lust. However, Sebastian was content with this. He did not require a loving relationship with Ciel. Of course he desired it, but actually taking action on it would be as the difference of thinking about swimming during the winter and diving into algid waters.
Ciel on the other hand was quite tired of waiting.
"I am prepared to retire for bed, Sebastian." Ciel said, finally humoring the butler as he could see the anxious stare he was given that was purposely not well hidden.
Ciel had a dream that night. One he'd had a hundred times, or more. It was of himself and Sebastian. Sitting. Just sitting. Ciel on Sebastian's lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Sebastian's head in the crook of his neck and arms hugging his back. The boy blushed madly the next morning the first time he'd had it. He tried to stay composed the next day. Then, he grew to be anxious before bed, loving the dream, and Sebastian's close proximity to his in it. He awaited bed and that dream for about a month. Then, it started to grow boring. It after it grew boring, it became annoying. Now it mocks him. He is perturbed by the lack of motion in the dream. Why didn't they do anything more than just sit there. He was past being flustered by asking himself this. Now it just made him angry. He wanted Sebastian, that had been obvious for a while, and he wasn't sure when exactly it had started. He didn't know if Sebastian felt the same, and honestly, he didn't care. He always got what he wanted one way or another... Which is precisely why, tomorrow morning would be different than any Sebastian had experienced with him before. He'd been planning this particular even for about a month night. Read many romance novels and purchased objects he hoped he'd never have to look at in his life, and now he was just itching to use them.