Author's notes ::English is not my first language. If there are any glaring errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Also, constructive criticism are greatly appreciated, in case you're willing to hurl several at me. Also, I added Will to the character list, because stuff~! Flashbacks here, flashbacks there, flashbacks everywhere. I hope it made sense though~ Lastly, I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it~

In response to Nostalgic's question, Ciel is 18 years of age in this story, since I made mention of eight years after his parents' death, which puts the story at the early 1894 timeframe, supported by the mention of 'Rose tea' in this chapter, which, incidentally, was first brewed in 1894.

Disclaimer :: I don't own Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji. Yana's immense genius does.

Chapter Two
Conflicting Interests

"Aaaah~! Will is always stressing me out!" The bespectacled reaper whined, kicking his foot wildly on the grass like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

"What do I even do with this?!" he asked, with a perpetual frown across his delicate features as he lifted the pruner Will gave him, just so he could continue his reaper duties whilst his chainsaw remained confiscated. "It doesn't even look pretty!"

Hatefully stabbing the ground with its clippers, the reaper simply cut, and cut, as though the grass were cinematic records, until he got tired enough and slammed the death scythe on the ground, though careful enough so as not to destroy the item.

"Where is this Millicent Smith and why is she not dying yet?! I didn't go all the way here to wait for someone who's stalling their death! She's fifteen minutes late! At this rate, I'll be late for the next one on the list! Aaaaah~! These people should just all die quickly so I can sleep already! So. Much. Overtime!" His angry chatter soon turned into gentle sniffles, the searing pain on his forehead spreading out to the rest.

He had been sitting on the grass for half past an hour now, watching the sky's cerulean turn into bright shades of gold and crimson, with the gently flowing stream reflecting the sky painted with his favourite colour.

"Would you like some tea then, to calm your nerves?" A sweet silky voice rose from behind him, an all-too-familiar voice that should have sent Grell clambering up to his feet and flailing about.

Plopping right on to the grass, the crimson reaper spread out his arms and looked at Sebastian, who donned his usual butler clothing. Oh how sexy his demon looked whenever the tailcoat swayed with his graceful movements, that vest and shirt underneath defining the features of his body whenever strained by movement. He looked sexy, even now that he crouched low, his auburn eyes meeting Grell's, with his lips curled into a smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be with your master?" Grell responded with a pout, vaguely remembering how their last few affairs had been obstructed greatly by Sebastian's sheer loyalty to the human. "Which errand will it be today? I really, really, really wish I was that lady in Bath, you know," the reaper said, frowning dramatically at the black butler, peering at him through narrowed eyes. Oh how Grell wanted to slay that woman then and there as her pleasurable screams drifted into the air, reaching all the way to the shinigami's ears. How many times must Sebastian torture him like so, letting him listen while he deliver such pleasure to undeserving others? It was more torture than a tease.

Sebastian's smile simply widened, mildly chuckling. "Oh my. What's this hostility all of a sudden? Can't I be here for the sole purpose of visiting you? I even prepared something, see?"

Rolling on his belly, the crimson-clad reaper eyed the well-prepared table ahead, with a beautiful tea set already placed on their positions. Aside from the freshly-cut (or hacked) grass, Grell's nose picked up another scent, something perhaps more enticing than grass— the sweet scent of roses drifting to him, caressing his nose as though its scent alone held Sebastian's little kisses.

"Ehhh, it smells different," he plainly commented, puffing air into his cheek, wrinkling his nose to feign his disinterest.

"It's called Rose Tea, a recent discovery from Canada. Red rose petals are used, giving it a light crimson hue. It tastes pretty good, Grell. And its taste might not be as good if you keep it waiting more," Sebastian spoke as he crouched lower, his lips close to the shinigami's ear. "Or would you like to have a taste via mouth-to-mouth sampling?" he breathed, the shadow of a smile creeping on the demon's lips.

Grell looked to the side, puffy lime eyes meeting Sebastian's eager ones. He should be waiting for Millicent, not slatternly flirting with the demon— not that Grell was ever too eager about his duties, but four straight days of no rest made his body and consciousness ache for respite and that alone. Oh the injustice Will made him go through! And confiscating his beloved death scythe for drifting off to a slight nap!

No, no. Grell wanted Sebastian, if it were any other day, he'd accept Sebastian's offer without a second thought. But weariness and emotional stress pulled him from doing so. Sighing, the crimson-haired reaper lifted his finger and pressed it upon Sebastian's lips.

"Sorry, not right now," Grell whispered back, flashing a wry smile at the demon before clambering to his feet.

The last of Millicent's screams were heard as her body plummeted downwards to the stream, unable to balance her body on the large branch of a tree that protruded magnificently. Her head crashed on a rock, bathing the grey matter with the fresh blood that splattered unceremoniously from her shattered skull. Oh how Grell loved the sight of that. How he lavished seeing that. Grell lavished seeing Sebastian too, but perhaps not on this circumstance. Perhaps when his ledger ends itself.

Despite the happiness Grell had upon the sight of Millicent dying, there was a subtle hint of a torn frown lacing his lips, the subtle expression of his heart's decision being torn to bits and pieces. Oh how he wished. There was a scene that kept repeating itself at the recesses of Grell's recent experiences, and he could not get himself to ignore the nagging sensation that accompanied it. He'd leave Millicent any second, but he could not get himself to flirt with Sebastian. Not with the heart-wrenching guilt that plagued him.

Did I... did I just get rejected? By Grell? Sebastian thought, speechlessly eyeing the flimsy shinigami as he walked away, his body's weariness evident with every laborious step he took. He did not want to wallow on the thought. Maybe he came at the wrong time, at the wrong place. He was a hundred percent sure that he would get his way this time, but it seemed as though a cruel hand had interfered with his affairs.

Surely, something in this world is worth staying for.

And Sebastian is yet to find it.

Grell sighed audibly, almost heavy enough to topple the paperwork piled on Will's table. "I haven't seen him in so long. I hope he's okay," he said dreamily, twirling locks of his long crimson tresses between his slender fingers. Slumping deeper into the chair in which he sat, the reaper's dismal spirits took a turn for the worse.

"Seriously, Grell, if you can't silence yourself, get yourself away from my office!" The man before him finally spoke, cold fury lacing his dull chartreuse eyes. From behind the rectangular glasses, Grell could see the fright of a man named William Spears, the supervisor of the Shinigami Dispatch Management Division.

If Grell's spirits were a little better, the effeminate reaper would have snooped his way to Will's business, not-so-subtly trying to catch his attention with occasional brushes of their hands and slight nagging to do something less boring. Frankly, Grell was such a nuisance to Will, but a sweet kind of nuisance he'd easily find missing when it's gone. In the boring routine of his life, dealing with incompetent newbies and settling matters, Will found the other reaper's presence a bit uplifting, and simply, secretly, he relished in it.

For almost a month now, Grell simply became much, much more of a nuisance than ever. He kept complaining about that goddamn demon and it drilled into his head, with mallets pounding with each and every repetition of the name. Sebastian, today. Sebastian later. Sebastian all day, Sebastian everyday!

Grell became less concerned about Will by the day, and it gravely irked the supervisor. Suddenly, he couldn't feel Grell's tender arms wrapping around his shoulders or sycophantically massaging his body after a long day or work. Whenever dragged to a task, Grell was uncharacteristically submissive, and did not drag him around by means of wrapping his small arms around Will's. He always liked teasing Grell by giving him more work—that means more occasions in which the effeminate reaper would whine out his name like a shameless whore asking for more or perhaps ogle him until he gives in to Grell's request (which he occasionally intended, after garnering enough attention from Grell). Even the overtime coffee stopped coming. These were little bits of Grell that brought a rift in his usual emotionlessly rational countenance, like drops of creamer into the overwhelmingly strong coffee— little bits of happiness into his lifeless world. They were subtle and brief, but nonetheless made their mark, somewhere there.

As a response to his words, Grell slumped lower on his chair with a childish frown plastered on his fair visage, eyes fluttering from sheer indignation. Grell was supposed to be used of this, but the unnatural coldness of Will's voice made him feel smaller than ever before. Okay, William Spears was cold and calculating—that much was an obvious part of being Will. But why does he suddenly seem... very, very furious? Tears almost welled at the corner of his eyes, feeling the wave of Will's wrath crash upon him.

"Fine! Since there's still a few hours until the next reaping, maybe I'll just drop by the Phantomhive household and see how my Sebby-chan is doing!"

'That name again?!' Will thought, now glaring at Grell who promptly stood up from his seat and headed towards the door. The other reaper probably didn't even have the slightest inkling how much it strikes the nerves every time his lips call for 'Sebastian' instead of 'Will'. "We're severely undermanned on the field right now, with the insane amounts of souls to be reaped. This isn't the time to be gallivanting around, Grell Sutcliff!" The supervisor's voice was stern and cold, commandeering over Grell's soul as though it had invisible reins on the other shinigami.

Snatching the nearest ledgers, he slammed it right on the table, as loudly as he could, and pretended to ignore everything else that transpired thereafter.

"Fine!" Grell merely scoffed at him, snatching the ledgers with his slender fingers and stormed out of Will's office. Little did he know about the hurt and jealousy that danced on Will's eyes as he slammed the door, nor the bitter frown that replaced the grim line he often called an expression.

~ x ~

'He really overworked himself,' the bespectacled supervisor thought to himself as his lean figure loomed over Grell's slender physique, curled behind a tree nearby the next soul's home. He already reaped the souls that needed to go, and he made sure not to wake the flimsy shinigami. Grell had been sleeping there for four hours, and no hint of waking up in the next few minutes. Crouching low, Will lifted his hand and gently shoved away the stray strands of silky crimson locks away from the other shinigami's face, gently admiring the peace and silence that Grell afforded with his sleep. There was a pained expression that marred his face however, and Will slightly blamed himself for it. 'I might have given him a little too much," he thought, slightly patting the crimson shinigami on the head.

'But then again, he's not whining about that filthy demon right now, and that much is enough.' Smiling, Will carefully took the locks of Grell's hair to one side, so as not to let the breeze whip it malevolently on its owner.

"Sleep tight," Will mumbled with a chuckle, planting a kiss on Grell's forehead before heading out to the next soul to be reaped.

~ x ~

"Wiiiillllllllll~!" Grell whined at the loudest voice he could possibly muster, clinging into Will's arms as he forcefully took the other shinigami's beloved chainsaw away. "You already gave me way too much work! At least let me do it with my special scythe!" He continued on, arms wounding tighter around Will's body.

Secretly, Will liked this affair, seeing Grell cling so desperately at him. Fearing for the welfare of the other shinigami in the building though, he could not afford to make it last much longer.

"It's a punishment for oversleeping during your rounds," William replied flatly, lifting the chainsaw farther from Grell's reach. "You have literally no right to complain, Grell Sutcliff. You took the ledgers and did not complain, so I assumed you were perfectly fine with the schedule," he spoke with a professional tone, without betraying the pity he felt for Grell, and the enjoyment he had of this experience.

"Please? Pretty please~?" Grell pleaded, now clinging almost like a child on Will's body, slumping on the ground so that Will dragged him around with his movements.

"No." He said firmly as he tapped the spot in front of Grell with his own scythe, a long pruner. "Use this until you're done with your assignment. Only then can you reclaim your death scythe. Now go," Will spoke, dismissing the crimson reaper with a shooing motion of his hands.

"Hmph! You meanie!" The other shinigami scoffed, snatching the pruner away from Will's grip and glared at him through teary eyes. "Fine, let it be that way! I'll make sure to finish this task efficiently, as per master Will's standards." One cannot help but to notice the way he crunched his nose in disgust and curled his fingers around Will's death scythe as though he could break it with such force.

"Yes, I'd prefer it if you do."

~ x ~

"Grell! Look out!"

The early morning sun blazed down on the five shinigami, beads of sweat forming on their brows. This demon appeared out of nowhere and suddenly started rampaging on this tightly-packed human gathering—a fair, to be more exact. Blood spilled everywhere, and more backup came by the minute. Even with the five of them—Grell, Will, Ronald Knox, and two other shinigami, they still fared horribly against this demon and could only do so much as to restrain him. No, in fact, the only thing they were able to do as of that moment was to prevent him from going towards the more populous spots. But it was tricky, and managed somehow.

It seemed to be particularly attached to Grell too, amused by the way he flimsily hopped away from the demon's path, and a queer, almost Grell-level interest at the color red. And for half of the time, he had been the perfect bait for the demon.

With every evasion Grell made, William's heart anxiously leapt, seeing how close it was to harming his little flirty nuisance.

But on that moment, the red-haired reaper was yet to regain his composure from his last move. Will intended to simply push him away, but both of them ended up in the same predicament. A sharp gasp came from the effeminate shinigami's mouth as the myriad of black feathers pierced malevolently all over Will's physique, while his own body was shielded by that of his supervisor's, who, at that time, still chided him from not running away.

"How can I leave when you're like this?!" Grell retorted, horrified at the incident. The three other reapers managed to steal the demon's attention, and these less competent shinigami became the prey.

Slowly, despite the fight that they put up, horrible thoughts of having the whole group annihilated populated Will's mind. Grell's safety was assured, for now, and that soothed his pains, if only by a little.

"It doesn't matter. Go back to the Shinigami—"

"No!"

Will was the harshest man to ever exist in the world, and there was no point in arguing that out. But they had their moments, and Grell liked Will as his supervisor (probably more, if Will wasn't so easy to shun his romantic advances away). Though his attitude in the last few days morally degraded Grell, he still held the slightest bit of respect towards the man.

"Don't be stubborn, Grell," William spoke between his bloody coughs, using the sleeve of his uniform to wipe the excess blood from his lips. "Everyone's safety might be at your hands," he spoke weakly, breathing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

"But—"

"No buts!" he commandeered, trying to sound as authoritative as he could under such dismal conditions. "I honestly can't see why you still hold yourself from killing them upon sight."

"I couldn't!"

"Yes you could. Potentially," Will breathed with a snicker, wiping the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth. "But you don't. Sometimes, I wonder if you softened up towards those vile creatures because of that... that mongrel of Phantomhive's."

"Sebastian is NOT a mongrel!" Grell defiantly shouted at him, barely holding himself from slapping his bloodied supervisor. He knew that the other shinigami hated demons to the core, but that one was completely out of line! His eyes suddenly leapt with fury, and whatever respect he had for Will departed him right at that very moment. His hands suddenly curled into fists, ready to punch the life out of Will. But he quickly decided that it was too masculine, and he promptly opened his hand, lifting it to slap the stupidity out of Will... until the other reaper's words forced it to remain still, quivering at mid-slap.

"Sebastian, huh? Why is it always him..." Will looked at him through pained eyes, a deeper kind of pain than his body's current wounds could ever afford to inflict. "...over me?" The quickly fading spark of life in his eyes met Grell's momentarily, before looking at the landscape beyond Grell, the sight of shinigami from the medical division slowly coming into view. "Until the end, you still choose to entrust yourself to someone not among your own. What am I even doing..." he spoke with disappointed chuckle, his eyes fluttering, "...expecting you to choose me over him."

"Eh?" Grell blinked, thrown into confusion by Will's words.

Slowly, the wounded reaper tried to lift an arm, his index finger raised. For a while, it left Grell wondering, until the soft tip of his finger brushed against Grell's skin, ending his sentiments with a little poke on the effeminate shinigami's cheek. "Don't think about it."

Thoroughly dazed by this gesture, the red reaper reached for Will's hands and curled his fingers upon the hand he so struggled to lift, feeling its light warmth.

"Will...?"

Grell stared at his supervisor's wishful eyes, slowly hiding behind the fluttering eyelids. Chuckles escaped from Will's lips, perhaps mocking himself for this shameless display of affection towards the other shinigami, shaking his head with the weakness he allowed Grell to see.

"Will..." Grell softly called out, suddenly feeling a strange kind of guilt washing over his whole being.

The other shinigami didn't respond as his body rendered Grell out of view, the effeminate reaper's voice barely passing through his senses. His movements finally went to the halt, and his fingers involuntarily curled upon Grell's. Not even a single word escaped his lips thereafter, curled into an exhausted smile as he lost control over himself.

The crimson-haired reaper frantically called out his supervisor's name while his heart throbbed wildly from within. He refused to let go of Will as he continued to ask questions, asking the other for justification. His questions were left unacknowledged and unanswered... except perhaps for a lone tear that trickled from the corner of Will's eye.

Grell visibly shook, unable to comprehend the scene recently immortalized in his own cinematic records. Unable to control himself, the red reaper clung helplessly to Will's body, smearing the blood all over his fair visage.

It took much effort for the part of the medics to separate a hysterical Grell from Will's body, but they managed to do so, over the deal that if he refused to go, he might be leading his supervisor to his ultimate end.

He let go, if only temporarily. Silently, his shattered heart watched the medics take him away. What had he been doing, all this time?

Sebastian sat in silence as the moon simply kept its watchful gaze upon his figure. The tea he prepared had already gone cold, sitting idly on the teacup as the butler refused to take even a single drop to his lips. Ever since he sat on the dainty chair he procured earlier, not a single feline dared to approach him, thoroughly intimidated by the sinister aura that emanated from the demon's entirety.

First, Ciel. Then, Grell. Now, even the cats? What is this, a sick kind of joke? Whatever it is that the world is playing on him, he was definitely not amused.

He didn't want to go back and sit idly on Hell just yet, but it seemed like the world itself already prepared the conditions so that it'd be better if he simply left. But he isn't going to give up.

The demon stood up, the sinister aura materializing itself into a manifestation far more ghastly than the unseen menace that simply surrounded him. Slowly, his body shifted into an unsightly thing, shifting into a fiery blackness that vaguely resembled a human, possessing elongated claws, sinister crimson eyes and pointed teeth... and a mass of black feathers floating all around him. He does not like being treated like this, and he will not, at any circumstance, allow fate to play with him like so.

Tonight, he will pleasure himself unlike he ever did before, just like the demon that he is.