Hello! Fairly recently I got into the Kuroshitsuji fandom and absolutely loved it, so I just had to write something for it XD Wrote a little oneshot for it already, but this will be my first multi-chapter fic. Actually, it's more of a three-shot, if you could call it that... Normally when writing something like this, I just make it a fairly long oneshot, but I think with this particular idea it works better if it were divided into separate chapters. Soo, sorry if you like really long chapters, as these will be pretty short (At least by my books anyways). Without further ado, I present to you chapter one!
Disclaimer: Black-Neko-Chan does not own Kuroshitsuji, nor the adorable Ciel and the lovely Sebastian. She'd like to, but unfortunately does not. So no suing, m'kay? XD
It had all gone horribly wrong.
His entire life, from the moment he'd turned ten, had all just been one giant mistake.
It was a mistake when his mansion had caught fire and burned down. It was a mistake that his parents—his guardians, his protectors, his loved ones—had been killed. It was a mistake, that month of servitude following right after. Of humiliation, of pain, of blood and hot tears, of anger; all just a mistake. The tortures he'd been subjected to, the horrors he'd witnessed, the things that had been done to him, that he in turn had been forced to do back… All a mistake. A mistake, that month he'd spent caged like an animal, learning the dark, secret horrors of the world, listening to the voices of all the others and his own calling for help, for a savior, for a way out… A mistake, the terror and helplessness he'd felt, the pain, the agony, the humiliation, the way he'd felt so dirty and so unclean the entire time, the way the hatred for his captors had grown and grown inside of him day by day, grown like a poisonous, thorned weed; growing and growing and grasping and snatching and tearing and ripping, ripping, infecting, destroying all of him, little by little, gone his innocence, his purity, his trust, his heart, his love, taken by them and replaced by the only thing he could hold onto in that place—his hatred—which had grown like a weed. …Yes, all of it was a mistake.
But the biggest mistake was made after all that, after his pain and his humiliation and his hate. His biggest mistake came when he made a deal with a demon at the cost of his soul.
He had made the contract with the demon because he wanted—no needed—revenge for what had been done to him. Not for his parents, not for the other servants that had died in the fire. Revenge would not bring them back, just like it would not bring back his peculated childhood. His needed revenge for himself, because they had taken everything else away from him, and that was the only thing he could still cling to. He did not care if it were at the cost of his own soul. What did he need that tarnished thing for anymore anyways? It would only probably serve to drag him to hell faster, and he did not need yet another obstacle working against him and forcing him under. Easiest to just get rid of it if doing so would acquire him his sweet revenge.
And so he'd made the contract—his soul in exchange for revenge—and that was all it was ever meant to be. Just a contract. Just a business transaction between himself and the demon that now owned a part of him. Sebastian would be his knight, his sword and shield, his dog, his loyal servant, his butler. He would obey his every command and dole out whatever punishment he felt was necessary. And then in the end, when his revenge was complete and it was time for his own demise, Sebastian would claim his soul. That was it. The terms of their agreement were laid out for anyone to see if they knew where to look: his in his right eye, Sebastian's on his left hand. And it became the one constant thing in his life that he knew he could depend on and trust. The contract would not go away. The contract would not change. It would remain constant throughout his life. And that was good, for Ciel Phantomhive did not like change.
Change was what had made his life into the horrible thing it was now. He'd been a happy child once, loved by his parents and the servants of the mansion, but change had disrupted all of that and had cast him into the hellhole that had nearly killed him. Change usually meant bad news, and so he was distrustful of it. He couldn't control change. If events remained on course, steady and predictable, then he could look ahead and plan accordingly. But change disrupted his plans and put things outside of his control, and he did not like that. To not have control over the situation reminded him too strongly of his own helplessness and weakness during the month he'd spent in captivity at the mercy of all those around him who would use him and hurt him.
He strove to stay away from change and thus remain in control. And that was why the contract was worth it, even at the cost of his soul. With the contract he had gained great power, and with that, more control over the world around him. He would find those who had humiliated him and would take his revenge out on them, would make them feel the same pain and suffering that he had. He would no longer feel weak and afraid and helpless because now it would be he with the power. And after that, he would die and his soul would belong to his demon. No chance of change. No chance of once more becoming that small, frail, helpless child of his past. Perfect.
But change was something that could not be planned for, and while the contract was a constant, something Ciel could count on, his relationship with his butler—his demon—was not. And so he had made a mistake.
It started because of the dreams. Horrible, disgusting, vile dreams that woke him up in the middle of the night and kept him up for an hour afterwards at least, while he waited for his mind and body to calm themselves enough to go back to sleep. He hated the dreams. They made him feel dirty and unclean and somehow less. He knew that he was at the age when boys began to go through adolescence, and that all boys his age had dreams like these, but the thought did not comfort him. He was the Queen's Watchdog, Earl Ciel Phantomhive. He had gone through and experienced so much more than other children his age. He was wiser than them, more mature than them, so much more than they all were. For him to have the same dreams, the same reactions and problems… it was a large blow to his pride. He knew it was mean to happen; yet somehow he had assumed it would not for him for of the sole reason that it was him. To be proven wrong was disgracing.
And the dreams…! They were the worst part of it all, worst than the blow to his pride. For him, who had spent that torturous month as a slave, completely helpless and at the mercy of those who had hurt him, to be having these kinds of dreams… It was disgusting. Absolutely disgusting for him to be dreaming about those types of things. But his body and subconscious mind seemed to think the opposite. All night long he was tormented by dreams of the same actions that on any other night would have resulted in nightmares. However, instead of forcing him awake in cold sweat, as these images should have, they made his body painfully hot and sensitive and aroused, as it repulsed him to no end. He was particularly angry these days that he'd been kept up all night by the dreams and he lashed out at anyone who dared to approach him. He was beyond furious. Now even his own body was betraying him.
He knew what he had to do to rid himself of his problems and finally get a good night's rest, but he adamantly refused to do so. Having his body react in such a way was disgusting and loathsome, but even worse would be if he sunk so low as to touch himself to be rid of his troubles. For him to do something like that, it would bring him down to the same level as those who had used him in the past for their own sick pleasures. He would not do it. His pride would not allow him to.
So he commanded Sebastian to do it. And that was the big mistake.
He was tired and frustrated from being kept up all night and had issued the order before even having a chance to second think it. Like most night, the demon had felt his distress and entered the room mere seconds after he had woken up from his restless, dream-plagued sleep. From that point on he had began to tease the young boy about the state he was in, the sort of activity they normally engaged in. But Ciel, angry and tried as he was, had been in no mood for the teasing and so had issued the command. Before he even had a chance to take it back, Sebastian was already doing as ordered, and his mind was too far-gone to do anything about it.
Being the demon that he was, of course he had taken it too far. But then, Ciel really shouldn't have expected him not to manipulate the order and do as he saw fit. Before he even had a chance to understand the magnitude of what he had so foolishly ordered, Ciel found himself sitting naked on his bed; his nightgown having disappeared before he'd even noticed its absence, with Sebastian's mouth over his small erection.
He'd wanted it to stop. The moment Sebastian's mouth began to move and his head bobbed while his skill tongue went to work, Ciel had been plagued with memories of the same action being done in the past—only the positions were switched and Sebastian's image was replaced with that of a nameless man. He felt terrified and panicked and unclean and he'd wanted it to stop immediately. But when he moved his hands to push Sebastian's head away they had instead entangled themselves in his raven locks and pushed his head downward while his hips bucked upward. And when he opened his mouth to scream at him to get away, all that came out were indecent and wanton mewls and moans of pleasure. Before he knew it, the pressure that had been steadily increasing in his lower stomach region had released and Sebastian was pulling away from him with sticky white threads dripping from his lips.
"Get away from me! Leave!" Ciel had shrieked instantly. And Sebastian had left just as quickly, spine bent and hand over the area of his heart, omniscient smirk in place, just like always. He left and the minute Ciel was sure he was gone the boy broke down worse than he had in years. He'd curled in on himself and lied there naked on his bed while he tried to stop himself from shaking so violently. He could feel the tears threatening to fell from his eyes but he'd refused to let them. He had cried enough to last a lifetime during that month, and he would not give them the satisfaction of shedding any more tears now. So he'd lied there shaking, feeling the saliva and heat from Sebastian's mouth slowly cool, and he locked away all the bad memories that had returned to him during that encounter. But even after regaining some semblance of his normal, cool, collected, and untroubled façade, he'd been unable to rid himself of the deep shame he felt.
He dreams didn't go away after that, no matter how much he hated them and how ashamed he was with himself. If anything, they became worse. For now he no longer dreamt about faceless persons touching him so inappropriately, but Sebastian. Again and again it was Sebastian there, smiling that damned, irritating smile at him as he ran his bare hands up and down his body, making him moan, making him writhe, making him scream. And he enjoyed it, even though he knew he should not. He woke from these new dreams more aroused than ever before, and desiring pleasure and release so badly that he was almost tempted to call Sebastian in to relieve himself, though he never did.
They weren't the only things that had changed. Along with Ciel's dreams, it seemed that his emotions and thoughts toward his demonic butler had altered as well. He became acutely aware of the other's presence beside him, and all the small actions and movements he made. Sebastian was his butler and as such should have been his loyal shadow, always behind him and never the center of attention. Yet now Ciel found that almost all of his undivided attention went to the man, leaving him more often than not confused and unaware of the going-ons around him. He began to notice every minute gesture Sebastian made, every small twitch in his perfect face, and wonder what they all meant. He stared at the man longer than was necessary and his cheeks broke out in an uncomfortable flush whenever Sebastian touched him for even the simplest of reasons. And he hated it, absolutely hated it, because all of this was slowly yet unavoidably bringing him to that one, inevitable conclusion: that he had foolishly begun to feel something for his butler.
And that was his mistake. How stupid was he, to fall for one's own death? It was surely the cruelest joke in the world. It would have, without a doubt, produced from Undertaker the greatest laugh he'd ever had. Yet it was no one's fault but his own. He really was a child after all, falling for whoever showered him with the greatest warmth and protection, even as he knew all those words of comfort were false. Sebastian was a demon, after all; he didn't care for or need the silly insecurities and emotions that humans harbored. All that mattered to him was how skillfully he could manipulate those things to flavor the soul of his prey. Ciel was no fool; he knew all this, yet he could not stop himself from falling deeper and deeper into desire for his demon one way or another.
He tried to push Sebastian away from him to distance the feelings he had for the man and eventually be rid of them, but that didn't work either. No matter how mature he was mentally and how many hardships he had gone through, in the end he was still just a child, and incapable of doing most things on his own. He needed someone to help him achieve his means, and that person was Sebastian. He found out soon enough that he could not handle his duties well enough on his own, and he was forced to turn back to his butler for help, thereby completely eliminating his plan to stay away from the man.
And his feelings for the demon only grew.
00000
The Phantomhimve manor was quiet. Such an occurrence only happened once in a very rare while, and today was one of those unusual occasions. Ever since the incident with Sebastian and his eventual discovery of the feelings he harbored for the man, Ciel's mood had worsened considerably. His rather inept servants had noticed this, and had apparently decided that perhaps if they could prove their usefulness by performing their jobs correctly for once, it would improve the young master's mood. Hence the silence. And lack of explosions, broken glass, and hysterical crying. Unfortunately, all their hard efforts were really doing was just making things easier for Sebastian.
For once, the young Phantomhive would rather have had the manor filled with the noises of careless accidents and mistakes. The complete silence made thinking way too easy, and he was looking for something to steal away his attention. He'd already tried to concentrate on the never-ending stack of paperwork set upon his desk, and that had worked for a while, but then Sebastian had come in with tea and blown all hopes of getting some work done out of the water. Perhaps it was just his recently over-active imagination, but to Ciel it had seemed that his servant had stood just a little too close while serving his tea, let his hands linger just a little too long while fixing the ruffle at his neck, just let the smallest hint of sincerity into his smile as he'd left the room. He'd tried to get back to work after Sebastian had gone, but after reading and re-reading the same paragraph several times and still having no idea what it was talking about, Ciel deemed that heroic endeavor to be useless. Now he was sitting blankly at his desk, trying not to allow his thoughts to get too involved.
It was difficult to do. He'd only been woken up a few hours earlier and been forced to deal with the now extremely embarrassing and awkward situation of being dressed, which never failed to remind him of all the excruciatingly detailed accounts of the dreams he'd had. Which he was now being reminded of again at the moment, having nothing else to occupy his mind with.
In his dreams he was a completely different person. Outside of them he was cold and his expressions and thoughts well guarded. He did not like the touch of others and even though he could now deal with people lying their hands on him without those careless touches dredging up bad memories from his past, that did not mean that he wanted them. He dealt with it because it would not befit someone like him to complain, but all the same, he would rather they not occur at all. Yet in his dreams, reality was warped and things were the complete opposite. He welcomed all touch, especially that of Sebastian's. His dreams with the demons were filled with a more intense heat and desire than any of the others had been. He moaned and cried and begged for that touch, and the intensity of his desire for it was even now beginning to leak into his waking moments.
He'd always been most comfortable with Sebastian's touch above all others. The man was his savior, and even if he was a demon and therefore evil, there was always the contract. With the contract, he could order Sebastian to stop whatever it was he was doing at any moment. And when one's servant performed intimate services such as bathing and dressing daily it was hard not to get used to those gentle and precise caresses. Yet now he was beginning to actually yearn for those touches, to want them to last longer when he did receive them. When Sebastian had touched him earlier today he had wanted it to continue on for so much longer than it had, even if he knew it was improper.
With a groan Ciel lowered his head into his hands. He was doing the very thing he had wanted to keep himself from doing—spending all his time thinking about Sebastian. The dreams were affecting his waking moment even more now, and it was quickly becoming harder and harder to forget about them. Or the man in them.
"What's wrong with me?" He muttered sourly. He knew that dreams such as this were normal. Much as he'd rather not they be, they were and there was nothing he could do about that fact. But the things he was feeling as a result of those dreams surely could not be. He shouldn't feel anything for a servant, much less a male one, much less a demon who would devour his soul. But yet he did.
And he didn't want to be, because it made things so much harder to bear. The last time he'd ever so willingly given his heart completely to another, they had died and left him behind. And now, for him to feel such a way for his butler was just ludicrous. Sebastian was a demon and would one day devour his soul. Even if somehow the man could even begin to understand the feelings Ciel harbored, in the end he would still be devoured. Nothing really mattered at all. That was why he hated this.
There was a knock at the door to his study and Ciel raised his head. A second later the man he'd been thinking about almost constantly entered. A look of what could easily pass for concern was plastered across his handsome face, but one only had to look closely to see that it was false. The only time Sebastian was ever truly concerned was when he was in danger, and only then because it meant that his soul was also in danger. Putting on his own carefully constructed façade of cool indifference, Ciel turned to face his butler.
"I apologize deeply for intruding upon your work, My Lord, but I sensed your distress. I'd thought that perhaps you'd managed to get yourself kidnapped again." Now the concern freely fell and was replaced by a genuine smirk. Ciel scowled at its appearance. It always angered him when that look was directed at him. It was the only expression he'd ever seen Sebastian make that was genuine, and it angered him because the demon was mocking him with it. He was insulting him without words, belittling him, reminding him that despite their positions in the here and now, when the contract was fulfilled he would be the one in charge and Ciel Phantomhive would be reduced to a good meal. He was only a human and Sebastian was a demon. He would never be taken seriously, no matter what he did and how much he wanted to be, and that stupid smirk only reminded him of that fact again and again.
"Well as you can clearly see, I haven't been," Ciel spat. "Now get out of here and don't disturb me again. I have a lot of work to do."
"Oh?" Sebastian questioned, quirking a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Then perhaps you should begin working on it. Sitting here and pouting surely isn't helping at all." Ciel growled. His fists balled up in anger. He wished he had something heavy to throw at the man. He knew of course that it would not hurt him, but it would make him feel better. He couldn't stand it when the other teased him like this, when his words got under his skin and into his mind. Because now he was feeling stupid again, stupid for somehow allowing himself to all so helplessly for this demon.
"What is bothering you, Young Master? If you get it off your chest then maybe you would be able to get some work done," Sebastian suggested.
"What a stupid idea. I am not the type of person to allow myself to be so bothered by foolish trivialities that I cannot function like a normal person," Ciel scoffed. He'd closed his eye for a quick second, and when he opened it again Sebastian was no longer in the doorway, but standing directly at his side behind the chair. He could feel the man's hot breath against his neck, and a shiver of arousal raced down his spine, his body already betraying his mind and quickly reacting to the other man's close proximity to him.
"Hmm, are these papers too hard for the Young Master to figure out by himself then? Does he need some help?" The butler purred into his ear, not at all helping the young man's body not to react to the small amount of space between them, especially not with the words he had chosen to use. Instantly Ciel was reminded of the first time Sebastian had "helped" him with his "problem" and he nearly groaned. He had enjoyed that activity way too much, and his willingness and desire to accept Sebastian's proposition disgusted him. He was not supposed to do things such as that, want them, or even think about them. Not with his male butler, and certainly not with a demon that would just as readily kill him was it not for the contract between them. It was wrong.
"Look here Young Master, all this one requires is your signature. Just a few long, slow strokes of the pen, and then it is finished." The demon was grinning; he could nearly feel it. Suddenly one of those gloved hands wrapped around his own smaller one and picked up the pen lying abandoned on the desk. Ciel's face blushed furiously, and although he wanted to yank his hand away and chastise his servant for touching him so freely, the pen was already poised over the pristine, white paper, and doing so now would surely result in an unsightly blot of ink. All he could do was watch as their entwined hands danced across the paper, taking slow, languid, yet lavish strokes, and leaving behind the letters of his name.
Ciel was now painfully aroused, and his cheeks shone brightly, mostly as a result of his shame. Sebastian hadn't even done anything other than to "innocently" touch him and make some suggestive comments, and yet he was already like this? It was disgraceful, horrific. He loathed it. He wanted to close his eyes and will it away as best as he could, but he was still painfully aware of Sebastian next to him, of the words he had spoken and
(that perfect, always smirking mouth of his as it descended lower and lower until it found his erection and had fit it all into that same irresistibly perfect mouth)
flashes of their previous encounter feverishly dancing through his mind nonstop. And so it would not go away and it hurt and he wanted to just tell the man to leave and to forget all about these damned emotions, but he wanted him here too and he wanted to touch and to be touched and—
"Young Master?" Sebastian's voice cut through his jumbled thoughts and he looked to see the man gazing at him with concern again. And he now noticed that his body was trembling and he had ruined the paper with his signature by pressing down too harshly with the pen after all, and he gasped. Not because of any of that, but because he thought that maybe, just maybe, some of that concern in Sebastian's russet eyes looked genuine.
"I apologize Young Master, I did not realize my teasing would have such a negative effect on you. I shall bring you some Peppermint tea to soothe your nerves," Sebastian said, and in an instant was again at the door of the study, looking all prim and proper, as if nothing was his fault.
"Sebastian!" Ciel called out, his voice raspy, before the butler could leave. The man stepped back into the room and closed the door behind him. Ciel looked at him and their eyes met. His cheeks burned with humiliation and embarrassment and his throat had gone completely dry, yet somehow he managed to speak his next two words.
"Touch me."
A moment passed. A hesitation. Then:
"Yes, My Lord."
He walked slowly from the door to the desk, agonizingly slow for someone who knew how fast Sebastian could move when he wanted to, giving Ciel just enough time to question himself if he really wanted to go through with this, yet not enough for him to act upon the answer he came up with. And then the chair had been pushed away from the desk and Sebastian was in front of him and he was trapped. Crimson eyes locked with his own and he knew that this was it. He had started this and now there would be no escaping from it. He nodded, although he knew that his consent would have hardly mattered at this point. Sebastian was truly in charge here.
He watched as Sebastian took his gloves off with his teeth, baring the contract and his skin for Ciel to see. Then those hands moved to the back of his head and untied his eye patch. It fluttered silently to the ground, and with it off Ciel closed both of his eyes tightly. He didn't want to see what he knew was going to happen.
Sebastian's hands moved slowly from the boy's hair to his cheeks, then his neck and stopped at the ruffle at his neck. It was undone quickly and cast away somewhere. Next those spidery fingers unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, slowly, taking much longer than it ever took in the mornings for Sebastian to dress and undress him. He slid the clothes down Ciel's shoulders but not completely off, leaving them bunched around his arms. Ciel shivered as his bared torso was exposed to the cooler air of the room. Even more so when he felt Sebastian's fingers begin to ghost over his skin.
He felt feather light touches grace his chest, softly and slowly. They trailed across his collarbone, down his chest, tracing the contours of his undeveloped muscles. Ciel sat deadly still in the chair, his pale body trembling, yet not moving an inch. He made sure to keep his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see the scene unfold before him and taunt him for his weakness. He had given in. His pride had left him and he had actually asked Sebastian to do this to him. He didn't want to see it now, because it would only make things harder in the future.
Caught up in his thoughts, he was unable to suppress the soft moan that escaped his lips when Sebastian's hands trailed teasingly over one of his nipples. His hips bucked slightly as his nether regions throbbed, reminding of the lack of attention being brought to that particular area Ciel's fingers tightened into the fabric of the chair, his knuckles turning white. He had to keep some measure of control over this situation. If he didn't, then he would turn into the same wanton and begging creature he was in his dreams, and he did not want that. The Phantomhive head did not beg! He would keep a strict control over himself, not allowing any more unseemly noises to make their way past his lips, and he would not allow this encounter to mean anything to him in the future. He had ordered Sebastian to do it, after all.
Perhaps it was because he had thought again about the dreams, or perhaps it would have happened regardless, but when Ciel felt Sebastian's hands lower to his shorts, his body tensed up and froze. Just as before, memories of the masked men who had hurt him and taken him captive for a month entered his consciousness. He knew that he was no longer in that place anymore, and that these were Sebastian's hands on him and Sebastian who was touching him, but he couldn't banish away the memories. Hid body shook and he gripped the seat even harder. A small whimper passed his lips.
He felt a hand touch his face and it was one of the hands of the masked men so he flinched back. The touch was deceptively soft now, but in a second he expected the same hand to strike him and bring the stinging pain he was familiar with.
"Young Master."
Sebastian's strong, deep voice cut through his nightmare as easily as one of the butter knives the butler attacked with would cut through his enemies.
"Young Master, open your eyes. Remember that you are here."
"Se-Sebastian," Ciel called out weakly, his voice trembling. He slowly let go of the chair. His fingers hurt from having held onto the material for so long. He reached forward and searched the air, intent on finding his butler's face. He felt Sebastian's hands cover his own smaller ones and lead them to his face. They stayed with Ciel's own hands as he traced the man's features, his fingertips finding every perfection and internally mapping every detail. When Ciel was satisfied and his fear had ebbed away he opened his eyes hesitantly, blinked them twice to clear away any haziness. Sebastian's face was in front of him, their hands entwined together against the demon's cheeks.
"Keep your eyes open. Look at me," Sebastian commanded. He nodded.
Sebastian moved his hands and Ciel's own fell to his sides. Then the other's hands moved across his own cheek quickly, in a sort of gentle caress, and once more they dropped to his shorts. Ciel stared at Sebastian the entire time, reminding himself that Sebastian would not hurt him, and he could always order him to stop. He wanted this. He'd asked for it. He could handle it and not break down like last time. All he had to do was continue to look at Sebastian and remind himself that this was okay.
A button of his shorts were popped and then unzipped, and suddenly they were around his ankles and he was bared for Sebastian to see. Ciel flushed darkly and looked away, more self-conscious now than he had been the first time. Things had happened so quickly then, and his mind had been too focused on other things to even think about the indecent act he was engaging in with his butler in terms of embarrassment.
"Look at me Young Master," Sebastian said, and then Ciel's eyes were dragged back to the face of the man by two large hands on either side of his face. Sebastian was smirking, and he scoffed, determined to not look away again. He would keep his eyes on his butler the entire time. He'd wanted this and so he would accept it. He wouldn't hide. Sebastian's smirk widened as he saw the resolve in Ciel's eyes, and without any further hesitation he wrapped his hand around the young man's erection and began to pump it softly.
"Ahh-!" Ciel cried out, surprised by the sudden onslaught of pleasure he was experiencing. It wasn't as much as the first time Sebastian had helped him, but his body wept at the pleasure all the same. Too long it had been denied such pleasure and only had to deal with the pain of ignoring it. His small erection hardened even more than he thought was possible, as seemingly all the blood in his body rushed to that one area. And now those soft strokes of Sebastian's were no longer enough to satisfy him and he squirmed in the chair, small whimpers escaping from him. He was begging and he knew it, but at the moment he couldn't find it in himself to care. He needed more of this.
"Sebastian…" He whined, "Faster."
Sebastian complied immediately. His pace picked up considerably, and while one hand was paying attention to that, the other traveled up Ciel's body. He traced strange patterns into the boy's soft skin, making Ciel shudder with the warm, hazy pleasure those small movements caused him. Then his hand traveled upward once more, and took one of Ciel's pink nipples between his fingers and pinched it lightly. Ciel gasped sharply and his cheeks colored even more.
"Wh-what are you doing?" He demanded.
"You told me to touch you, My Lord. I am merely obeying your orders," Sebastian replied with another smirk. Ciel blushed deeper. He was still teasing him, even now, and it caused a bittersweet emotion within the young teen. He liked the games that he and Sebastian played with one another, but it was just another way of showing that this was all just a game. He had feelings for the demon, but the other was just doing as he'd requested, wasn't he?
Sebastian's grip tightened considerably around Ciel's length and with a startled gasp brought his mind back to the situation at hand. From that moment on he no longer had any time to dwell on such unsettling thoughts, as Sebastian began to move too quickly for him to concentrate on much of anything. Small mewls and whimpers came from him as he was brought closer and closer to his orgasm, and very quickly. His body wanted release so badly that it seemed every nerve ending on his body was in overdrive, and every area of skin that Sebastian touched burned long after his roving fingers had moved on. He came with a quiet cry, and then slouched back into his chair as the aftermath of his orgasm hit him. He was tried now, and barely conscious of Sebastian moving to and fro while cleaning him up.
"Hmm, I think a small nap is in order for the Young Master. Perhaps afterwards he can get some paper work done as well," Sebastian stated, his tone slightly teasing. He helped Ciel from the chair of his desk and led him quickly to his bedroom. It wouldn't do for him to be seen in such an improper state of undress.
"Shut up," Ciel scowled tiredly, still managing a fairly decent glare despite this. Sebastian helped him into his nightgown, something even he could have done at this point as he was still missing most of his clothes, and then into his bed. The blinds were closed, effectively shutting out the pesky sunlight. Ciel snuggled down into his blankets, feeling sleep already begin to overtake him.
I… did that… with him again.
Ciel frowned as he thought this. He had enjoyed it much more this time than the last, but it would only make things much more difficult for him. He had let his weakness show and had told Sebastian to touch him. He could still see Sebastian's face in his mind, his cerise eyes looking directly at him the entire time. Yes, this would make things much more difficult indeed. He couldn't allow something like this to happen again, he couldn't. He had to forget about the man somehow, or this fascination of his would end him. No matter what he felt, his soul still belonged to Sebastian, and if he let his emotions fester any longer, his end would be even more difficult than it should have been.
He felt the bed sink beneath him, as a slight weight was added to it. He did not open his eyes, as he was very tired and figured that the only person who should have been in his room was Sebastian. He felt hot breath against his face, and then the brush of something across his forehead, the touch so light he wasn't sure if he hadn't just dreamt it. Then the weight was gone, and he heard the door to his room close quietly.
What… was that? He thought, but before he could come up with an answer he had already fallen asleep.
Aaaaand chapter one! Okay, some things to say. First, I'd like to bring everyone's attention to the title of this fic, Endgame. According to Wikipedia (XD) and my own knowledge on the subject, the endgame is a stage in chess where there are only a few pieces left on the board. Basically, when the winner and loser of the game are already fairly clear. The title of this chapter is "Me To Play," and in chess, that's another way of saying "My turn." Okay, I think that's all you need to know, so I shall see you next time! Please remember to leave a review, and thank you for reading!