Warnings: Undertaker/Ciel, Ciel's very contradicting thoughts. Sebastian being a creep. Also, temporary character death.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, only the plot of this fic.
A/N : As just stated in the warnings, this chapter contains some interaction between the Undertaker and Ciel. This will happen once in a while, since, well, they've lived together for ages in this fic and even though Ciel doesn't look like it, he's an adult. Also, I repeat that romantic love doesn't play a role between the Undertaker and Ciel, partly because this will be a Sebastian/Ciel fic. Those who don't like Undertaker/Ciel, don't worry, just go with it, it will change =D
On another note, thank you for all your reviews and alerts/favs! You rock! (and I don't, because there'd been no time to answer...)
Now I'm going to shut up and hope you'll enjoy the new chapter.
Chapter 3
As soon as Sebastian left, Ciel sat down on the floor, aggressively trying to calm down. He wanted to shout and scream and throw something; he wanted to call Sebastian back and he wanted to hit him, to be held by him - yet the demon had to stay as far away as possible. He wanted Sebastian to take his soul and end this game but he also wanted him to kneel in front of his master as he had done in old days, smiling in his unique way while the words 'Yes, my Lord' fell from his lips.
So, when the Undertaker came in, Ciel – who was flustered and angry, hot, very bothered and absolutely unaffected – grabbed fistfuls of the other's hair, yanked his head down and kissed him hard. The former reaper seemed surprised for once which made Ciel grin against his mouth despite his anger. Apparently, the other took this as a challenge and kissed him back with a small chuckle. Ciel felt one hand on his neck, holding his head the way the Undertaker wanted it while the other rested against the small of his back. Just when Ciel was about to enjoy himself, the Undertaker broke the kiss, gently yet firmly pushed him to the floor and came to rest on top of him, settled between the boy's legs, his arms holding most of his upper body's weight away from the smaller one. They looked at each other for a long moment. It had been ages since they last had been in a position like this. Ciel adjusted his legs a little, feeling the cold floor at his back in contrast to the Undertaker's warm body on top of his. He was rather used to hard surfaces by now; the Undertaker seemed to have something against beds. For him, it was always the walls, tables, chairs or floors. The Undertaker would take him in a coffin, but having woken up in one, Ciel preferred hard surfaces over that kind of bed.
The former Earl curled his fingers into strands of the other's hair, ready to pull him down in case his staring session took too long. The Undertaker didn't let the boy distract him. Instead, he brought one spindly finger to Ciel's face and started tracing his reddened lips with an interest that had nothing to do with continuing what their position implied. Dumbfounded, all the boy could do was stare.
At this, the former reaper chuckled lightly. "You look bothered." He leaned in, his breath ghosting over Ciel's moist lips. "Tell me, what were you talking about? It must have been very… intense."
At first, Ciel didn't want to say anything, mentally slapping himself for being glass to the Undertaker, but then again they wouldn't get anywhere if he didn't give an answer. They had to get finish this before it could get awkward. "He feigns innocence," Ciel said, letting the other continue his newfound hobby. "Also, he claims ownership." He started busying himself with the buckles of the Undertaker's pants, feeling that he wouldn't get any help in removing that tight-fitting long sleeve of his. He fought the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks at the thought of his next words. "I told him that I'm taken."
The other male burst out into loud laughter. "By me? What a lie!"
Ciel ceased his fumbling, his face growing hot. "What's so funny? You have taken me and he didn't ask in what sense we're together, so why not?"
"It doesn't matter whether it's a romantic relationship, a sexual or one like ours," the Undertaker said, amused. "I've got an angry demon at my heels. You better come up for it."
"Actually, you shouldn't charge me anything", Ciel said. "My presence should be of enough entertainment."
"As well as the development between you and your demon."
The boy glared. "He's not my demon."
A cackle. "Right. You're his property."
With a scoff, the boy slapped the other male, causing a fit of giggles. "That's why you're here. Even Sebastian has to admit that you're dangerous to his existence."
"You teamed up with me because I'm powerful?" The Undertaker shook his head slightly. "And here I thought you loved me."
Ciel rolled his eyes. "And I always thought I needn't pay you with entertainment."
The Undertaker pulled a face, obviously trying not to laugh. "Point." He pressed a quick kiss to Ciel's cheek and got up. The boy watched him, curiously unaffected by the idea of not having some distraction, and sat up on the floor. A strangely comfortable quietness overcame them, in which the Undertaker straightened his clothes and looked at a plate with his special biscuits sitting on the coffee table in a contemplating manner.
Ciel broke the silence after some moments. "We haven't been to Finland yet."
The other male grinned as he combed through his hair with his fingers. "How about South Africa?"
"Or Russia."
"Alaska."
"Singapore." Ciel felt a light smile pull at his lips.
The Undertaker offered his hand. When the boy took it, cool, slightly calloused fingers tightened around a small hand. As Ciel was pulled to his feet, those fingers brought back an impression of Sebastian's hands, smooth and warm over the soft skin of his stomach. He forced the picture away.
The former reaper regarded him with interest. "You wish to die and yet you don't. This morning, you decided to stay and now, we're planning on leaving."
"You won't get bored if you stay around", Ciel said as the man put a hand around his shoulder.
The Undertaker smirked, leaning in as if he was about to tell his ward a secret. "We could travel around for countless years to come, and the demon would still find you." The smirk grew as the boy stiffened. "I think I'll stay."
OOO
As Sebastian was walking around London's shopping streets, it started raining.
The demon watched the people around him break into a hurry, taking out their umbrellas or going into the next store, murmuring to their acquaintances. The rain quickly grew stronger, soaking Sebastian's clothes. He headed for the small apartment he'd rented during his last contract.
"Can it be?"
That voice sounded very familiar. Sebastian thought of stopping but quickly decided against it.
Not that he was successful in his flight, for a red-haired man in stilettos and holding an umbrella blocked his path, adjusting his glasses and giving him a look from head to toe and from toe to head. "Sebastian?"
Act oblivious or respond? It was one of the hardest choices the demon had to make in the last ninety years. But maybe he could get something out of it. After all, he had seen him around back then, right before leaving. Maybe he knew something. Sebastian straightened his shoulders, chin held high and said, "Grell."
The reaper squealed in delight, throwing his arms around the demon and hugging him hard, apparently not caring about his clothes for a second. "It's been so long, dear Sebastian darling!"
(What had he just done?)
The demon gritted his teeth and pushed the other male away. "Refrain from doing such things in public or private, Grell."
The other one just blinked at him lovingly.
Sebastian rolled his eyes and walked past him. As expected, it only took a little twitch of his hand for Grell to follow him. They went to Sebastian's apartment – a simple one that was only there to indulge in the luxury of sleeping – where Grell looked expectantly at the other male.
"Are you going to have your way with me?" he asked in front of the door. "Y'know, good-to-see-you-sex."
"No," Sebastian said, slightly annoyed. "We are only going to talk. Afterwards, I shall consider a change of apartments."
"You're still the same. I like that."
The demon didn't answer. Instead, he opened the door to his living quarters, letting Grell in first. The redhead took everything in, paying intense attention to the barely decorated hallway and living-room. He placed himself next to the open windows behind which they could hear the rain falling against glass and the muted murmurs of the rest of the world. "I'm glad to see you again."
Sebastian, rather taken aback by the other's solemnity, forced a smile on his face. Normal people weren't glad that a demon had returned. "You shouldn't be. I'll be taking away all your souls."
"Ah, but that's a different matter. I'm going to stop you if you do. Spread your innards all over London and cover the rest of you in red."
There was a manic glint in his eyes that Sebastian did not like.
"That's very nice," he said, clearing his throat. "But I won't let you rip me into pieces. Now, if you may excuse me for a short while, I need a change of clothes."
With Grell's excited squeal in his ears, he went to his bedroom which was empty except for a bed and a wardrobe that he had bought from the money stolen from his last victim. He quickly changed into dry clothes, leaving his hair damp. It was early autumn, after all, and he didn't get sick anyway. When he entered the living-room, leaning against the back of the couch, Grell hadn't moved from his place. However, there was this certain look on him that implied that he'd watched Sebastian change.
The demon professionally ignored it, his experience from his years as a butler aiding him. "I apologize. There is nothing in this apartment that I could offer to you."
"Don't mention it", Grell said, his sharp-toothed grin returning, "I don't want anything anyway." He batted his eyelashes. "Not in that sense, at least."
And back was the reaper. Sebastian decided to overlook this, too. "You know why I brought you here."
"Why, yes, I guess it's about the Earl?" Grell waved his hand. "It's always about him. He's all the Undertaker ever talks about when we meet. Imagine, he even called me to New York City just to play some kind of prank on the kid. At least he bought me some expensive ankle boots for that."
The mention of that former reaper lit a spark of anger inside the demon. He tried concentrating on the essential. "I was wondering whether you knew anything about the day of Ciel's death."
This brought a grin to Grell's face. "Which death?"
"His first."
Looking at him in a calculating manner, the reaper nodded. "I was there after you had left," he finally admitted, "so I know what happened. What do I get for telling you?"
If Grell really had been there, then Sebastian needed a good price. He wouldn't offer himself to him. Still, it was the only good payment that he could think of… Except… "I will kill the boy," he said. "Chances are high that you will get the cinematic record if you deliver good information from now on, concerning Ciel's first death and maybe other more recent things."
The reaper blinked, thunderstruck. "I…" he began, but then stopped himself. He closed his mouth, then opened it again, blinked. "That's a lot for exchange."
"I said that the chances will be high," Sebastian said. "It depends on how good your information is. His soul still belongs to me, but I might be generous and give you that shred. It contains more years than any other complete soul. Aren't you interes-"
"Yes, yes, I'll tell you everything!" Grell was practically beaming by now. "Imagine all those memories… How intriguing!"
Sebastian smiled indulgently. When Grell tried to hug him, he pushed him away. They weren't that friendly with each other, and he planned on keeping it the way it was. Not that Grell minded the push, anyways. He rather looked as if he'd enjoyed it. "Please tell me what you know about that day," the demon said.
The reaper rounded the couch and flopped down on it, trying a suggestive pose but gave up on it when Sebastian averted his eyes. "Well, as I said, I was there after I've seen you leave and was curious to have a look at the earl. When I went in, I saw the Undertaker working on Ciel's soul. Apparently, you left some of it in the boy's body."
Ciel had said the same, but Sebastian still refused to believe that he'd simply forgotten it there. It was unprofessional, and he was too old for that.
"The Undertaker noticed it right after you had gone, so he was patching it together." Grell shrugged his shoulders. "I think he had already experimented with hurt souls or something alike, because he was quickly finished in healing that minuscule shred. Ciel didn't wake up, not even two days after that, so the Undertaker gave up and put him in some expensive coffin." He took off his gloves and took a nail file out of nowhere, tending to his red nails. "I think he had a grave bell and the Undertaker heard it by chance and got him out of his coffin. Can't tell you anything about that since I wasn't around anymore. I saw them again when they came back to London in 1967. Imagine my surprise; I never thought this little shred could maintain the kid's body sufficiently."
"It's no more than the tiniest sip", Sebastian said.
"Exactly." Grell put his nail file back. "But seeing its cinematic record will be very interesting."
"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Sebastian asked.
"You're the only one who can remove the soul from Ciel's body," Grell said. At Sebastian's inquiring look, he reluctantly explained. "William stabbed him with his death scythe, but neither his soul nor the record escaped his body. The Undertaker might be able to remove it, given that he was the one who patched up the soul, but we never tried that. Whatever you did, darling, you definitely made sure you'd get your prize."
"He does belong to me," Sebastian said. The tone implying that he knew what Grell was talking about was only acted. He made a mental note to himself that should he ever see that William again, the encounter would end in blood.
Raising his head to look him in the eye, the reaper asked: "How did you do it?"
Sebastian raised his eyebrows."Demon business. Nothing you should worry about." How indeed had he done it? He couldn't recall anything of having done such thing consciously. "Now, don't you have anything else to do?"
"With you?"
"Alone, of course. I'm sure people are dying right now."
Something lit up in Grell's eyes. "You're throwing me out after I've sold information to you? How mean, Sebastian!"
He didn't sound as if he truly found it unkind.
After a few polite and less-than-polite words, Sebastian was alone again, trying to comprehend why he hadn't sensed that shred back then. Maybe it was because after ripping it out, the boy's whole body had carried its soul's smell. In his delusional state, he must have been unable to distinguish the phantom scent from the one that belonged to the actual soul.
He waited for ten minutes before he put on his shoes, fetched an umbrella and went back into the rain. Even if Ciel had told him to stay away only two days ago, Sebastian wouldn't follow such orders anymore. The boy couldn't refuse him, anyway.
The Phantomhive townhouse was an hour's walk away from his apartment, but Sebastian didn't mind (after all, he was one hell of a pedestrian). When he arrived, there was no sight of the Undertaker's car. He did however see his former master walking away from the house. Wondering where the boy was going while still wearing his uniform, Sebastian followed him. Ciel walked slowly, as if contemplating something very difficult while moving. He didn't have an umbrella or a raincoat with him, letting the water soak his clothes.
He went to an old cemetery.
There, in a serene, small corner was a grave he swiftly walked to. Sebastian went to another grave far away from the one Ciel was visiting. From that distance, the boy shouldn't see his face. He lowered the umbrella a little to make sure he wasn't recognisable.
Ciel seemed too busy with something else to notice him. Sitting down in front of the grave stone so that his back faced Sebastian, he took something out of his pocket, rolled back his sleeves and took off his vest.
The rest went very quickly.
Three slashes along the vein in both arms, and one along his jugular vein.
Sebastian edged a little closer to watch the boy bleed to death with morbid fascination, wondering at the back of his head whether the Undertaker never helped him because of exactly that feeling. It took about one minute until Ciel seemed to feel dizzy. Later on, he lay down on the muddy grass (nobles didn't do that) and stilled.
Sebastian waited another five minutes before he walked over. The scent of the boy's blood assaulted him; he felt his mouth watering. First, he checked the boy's pulse, just to make sure that he was really dead. The left side of his throat gave him a lipless, vertical grin painted in red.
The demon couldn't detect a heartbeat anymore, nor was the boy breathing. He stood there, trying to resist a primitive urge, until he decided to just do it because this was a corpse right now and his animalistic instincts pressed him to do it. Going down on one knee, he took the boy into his arms and carefully licked the blood off the grin before the rain could wash it away.
It tasted divine.
The demon almost let out a moan, holding the child flush against his chest, letting the blood soil his clothes. Across the cemetery, his umbrella lay forgotten on the ground.
He needed to go before the Undertaker arrived… or anyone else, for that matter. He quickly rolled the sleeves of the boy's shirt down and dressed him in his discarded vest, trying to hide the worst. Fortunately, his own cardigan and shirt were black, so the blood wouldn't be seen.
He put the knife that Ciel used into his pocket and lifted the corpse into his arms once again, ignoring the reek that screamed 'Undertaker'. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder at the headstone, feeling amusement settling in his features when he read the words on it:
Ciel Phantomhive
December 14, 1875 – August 26, 1889
Rest in peace
Of course, the coffin that was six feet under was empty and this former Earl certainly wasn't resting in peace, for he would soon wake up again to his owner. Sebastian allowed the amusement to stay for a while, pressing the limp and rapidly cooling body closer before he broke out into a sprint. Only the fact that he was a demon helped him remain unnoticed. He was simply too quick for the people to notice that someone was moving past them.
When he arrived at his apartment, he glanced over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. No one had seen him.
For the second time that day, he was drenched. At the moment, however, his primary concern was Ciel's welfare. The boy could catch a cold when he was with the Undertaker; Sebastian would make sure that this wouldn't happen in his living quarters. He undressed the boy in the bathroom, and wondered briefly what the boy thought these days while looking into a mirror only to see the contract in his eye and the mark burned into his skin. The latter was still there, barely visible but if one looked for it, they'd find it easily.
As he wiped the blood off the body, he noticed that the cuts were already healing. The vertical grin in the boy's throat had already closed, leaving only the slashes in his arms. He cleaned those wounds and wrapped the boy in a fluffy towel before bringing him to his bedroom. Carefully, he laid the boy on the left side of his bed and went to change into another fresh set of clothes. When he was finished, he carried a chair from the kitchen into his bedroom which he placed next to the bed. Ciel's skin was waxen against the covers, his lips colourless. Sebastian didn't know how long the reviving process would take. As done before, he checked the boy's vitals. There was no pulse and the Ciel still wasn't breathing.
The demon pulled his chair a little closer to the bed and sat down.
Then he waited.
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