Aight, hey. It's been a while since I uploaded anything and not deleted it, but uh, I've gotten into this whole butler thing real hard (insanely hard) and this poured forth from my fingers tonight. Happy New Year!
I've always had a soft spot for cute sleepyfics, kind of ended up just parodying them in the cynical, dry, bitterish style that is my Black Butler writing, idk. Is this even still a thing. Am I late. Have pointless cutesy fics gone out of style or what. Anyway:
Kuroshitsuji is Toboso Yana's, and so are these idiots.
Somehow, after two years, Sebastian still had to be called to watch over Ciel before he slept. By Ciel himself.
He got the preparation just fine, always undressed his master with discretion, redressed him in an old, oversized (yet still tantalizingly short) workshirt, tucked him into bed—and then made to leave, like a buffoon. An unbelievably irritating, taunting buffoon. "Good night, young master." Yes, good night; he knew exactly what sort of night it was going to be if he didn't stay.
"Sebastian," Ciel said this time, before said butler could turn away. "Stay with me."
Of course, he was expecting it, and so Sebastian tilted slightly in a bow, said "yes, my lord" and all was well.
There was a short period of silence, as Ciel lay in bed, covers drawn to his chin and fist gripping the pillow, and Sebastian watched as he was instructed to.
The wind whistled; but there was no tapping against the window, for Ciel had instructed his most loyal of companions to remove the tree that kept scratching the glass in the night. The curtains were drawn, to prevent paranoia of ghosts or very, very tall people peering in at him. All doors were shut. The only thing Sebastian could not nullify was the wind, howling like the dead in his poor master's ears. He presumed Ciel was not wont to request a lullaby, but at night, the child was a different creature altogether: fearful, tender, weak.
"Sebastian," said the child. Sebastian paid attention. There was another pause, as Ciel contemplated his next words. He seemed to have trouble getting them out anyway, when he did say them.
"Come... into the bed with me," he said, seemingly very disgruntled that he would have to request such a thing. Sebastian arched an eyebrow freely, as his master's eyes were clenched shut with shame. Not that he wouldn't have if they were open anyway.
"Into the bed with you?"
"That's an order."
Sebastian huffed out a laugh, placing the candelabra on the table, and then—entirely, absolutely unheard of—blew out the candles, plunging them both into darkness.
"Yes, my lord," he muttered, and took his dear time going around the bed, removing his shoes, placing them neatly at the side of the bed, taking off his tailcoat, folding it in half, and placing it on a chair in the corner, setting his pocketwatch on top, undoing his tie and placing that on top, pulling off one glove, then the other, folding them and placing them down as the topmost item, then returning, pulling back a corner of the sheets and comforter, then sliding himself into the bed. He positioned himself on his right side, as it was the easiest to keep watch over Ciel on, facing him and all.
More silence; Sebastian quietly waited to see what his master would do, as he had fulfilled the order. He'd come into bed with him, and was not required to do anything further, such as caress his poor head, or brush his hair and hum lovingly till he fell asleep. At least, not until he said so. Which he might be expected to. For whatever peculiar reason, he was needier than usual tonight.
He waited for quite some time, as Ciel appeared to fumble at the queer sensation of his demon's eyes burning into his back, however motionlessly it was, as the fumbling was completely in his head. Sebastian's fiery gaze held some sort of tacit question; 'what now, young master? I am here, in the bed, as you so childishly wished of me. But what now? Will you just lay there?'
But, after a few minutes or so, Ciel finally shifted. He turned over, glared at Sebastian in the dark, and inched closer to him, slowly, ever slowly, until, after about half of another minute, the Earl had snuggled up to his butler, buried his face in his oddly warm chest, and relaxed there.
Sebastian raised both his eyebrows this time, as this action had been doubly surprising. "Goodness," he exhaled, patting Ciel's hair of his own accord. It was soft, and he knew this well; he'd picked the soap specially, as it was supposed to loosen and prevent tangles. Tactile appreciation being one of his fond points, Sebastian supposed he may as well indulge, as long as the young master didn't bite.
"Shut up," Ciel commanded, from his spot nuzzled up into Sebastian's body. He did try very hard to sound intimidating, but the only sensation it produced from the demon was amusement, and thus, laughter.
"I suppose you'll be asking for a lullaby next, young master?" Stroke. Stroke. His hair was terribly soft. It was hard to resist scratching behind his ears, in truth.
More fumbling from Ciel; he really was off the mark tonight. "No," he said, but there had been enough hesitation to prompt another chuckle from Sebastian, who now planted his face directly into Ciel's hair. (Another reason he'd picked the soap: the scent.)
"Are you sure about that?" Sebastian murmured, and they were now descending into playful taunts and their weak rebuffs, an excuse for Sebastian to speak, because he knew without it being said that, at these times, Ciel enjoyed the warmth of his body, another against his own, savored the feel of a different person's breath being taken in time with his own, and relished the sound of Sebastian's silken voice as it rumbled dearly from his chest, and who was he to deny Ciel simple pleasures that he needed and craved, and himself his own amusement?
"Yes," Ciel murmured back, flipping Sebastian's half-prediction of a denial on its head, as he did. He appeared suitably drowsy, according to the thickness of his voice, and how he was perfectly still, comfortable in his position, cheek pressing into his butler's shirt.
"Shall I sing one for you anyway, just to be certain?" It was a meaningless request. The only lullaby Ciel needed was being sung right now; all Sebastian had to do was keep muttering in his ear until he drifted off.
"...No," Ciel breathed, and Sebastian hushed and let him fall asleep.
After a time, he sighed, hand still combing through Ciel's hair. Every now and then, he'd ask for this kind of thing at night, although Sebastian had to admit that he honestly hadn't a clue what prompted it. He could think of nothing, although he had compared circumstances surrounding these occurrences quite thoroughly. There were a few matches—he'd had the same type of cake that day, worn the same clothes, said the same idiom a time or two, so on—but none of them correlated anything substantial. One possibility was lovesickness (perhaps of the puppy variety), or an aching for his family that only Sebastian could pretend to fill. It genuinely perplexed him, as there was hardly enough evidence to pick one or the other.
But he had nothing to do anyway, all the chores were done, everything was clean, in place, and the servants were in bed, so he allowed it not to bother him. He might as well get some rest—or, at the very least, desperately try to, what with the unguarded soul of a child sleeping cradled in his arms.
(final note: I may—maaaay—write a quick epilogue about the next morning, but for now I'm leaving it as complete, on the off chance that I don't take the bait and write again. Which is slim, but what can you do.)