The Butler, Enamored
If he didn't enjoy watching it, he'd have cursed the fact that reapers needed sleep. It was bad enough that they had such limited time, and when he thought about the countless hours swallowed by a comatose state, it frustrated him to no end.
However, when he was confronted with the relaxed, loosely curled form with its head on his pillow, it never seemed quite so bad.
Grell was actually a very light sleeper, Sebastian had discovered; somehow, he had expected just the opposite. But no, it didn't take much for the green eyes to snap open, uncharacteristically sharp for a moment as he sized up the situation. Usually, a gentle touch to his cheek or a kiss pressed to his forehead was enough to calm him, and he would slip easily back into his light slumber; every so often, however, usually when he was getting up to start his day, the other would wake fully, and there was nothing he loved so much to see as the moments when he would drag his body from sleep, after his mind.
He had a tendency to sleep on his side, one shoulder lost in the coils of his hair, spine curved in a loose imitation of a fetal position, knees crooked in a similar extension of the pose. He also had a habit of not breathing as he slept, but on nights that were few and far between, for an unknown reason-perhaps when he was restless-his side would move in a steady rise-and-fall that indicated the habit had persisted that day.
Regardless of whether or not he'd been breathing through the night, his waking was always marked by a long, deep inhalation; he always shifted in the same way, resting on both elbows, head hung as he tried to clear it of sleep. It presented a lovely view of his back, the elegant curve of his spine, the shoulder blades moving under the skin; sometimes he could catch a glimpse of the nape of his neck, other times a lock of hair covered it, falling into the dip between the muscles.
Eventually, he would sit up, running a hand though his hair, the shorter locks attractively rumpled; the longer, he tied back, always brushing them after he was up and dressed. Some nights he wove it into a heavy braid before he slept, but that was even more infrequent than his breathing, as he didn't like the waves it put into the thick strands.
Regardless, the demon always watched surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as he shifted, observed the surprisingly defined shoulders shift and ripple; his eyes swept over the well-but-delicately-muscled chest; the smooth, flat stomach, appealing in its lack of obvious musculature but firm and taut nonetheless, and very ticklish on the sides; the hipbones that led to a place of yet-unexplored intrigue.
His complexion was ivory-white and smooth as satin; he couldn't count the hours he'd spent simply drawing his fingertips over the flawless, silken skin, learning every angle, curve and plane by touch as well as he knew them by sight. This particular night, he wasn't quite so lucky as others; though Grell was comfortably nestled against his side, and the demon had, as he so often did, taken to tracing the line from his elbow to his shoulder, his path was hindered and much of the perfect skin was hidden beneath a thin robe of red silk, different from the feel of the flesh more in its coolness than its texture. The sash was tied about his waist, but the cloth was loose on his torso, and the folds offered glimpses of the white skin, sensual in their abstracted disconnection from each other; most appealing was the curve of his shoulder, peeking from under the fabric, the collarbone drawing the eye and leading it to the curve of his neck and ultimately the elegant slope of his jaw.
He'd fallen asleep with his glasses on again-it seemed he never took them off-but Sebastian was loathe to risk waking him to remove them. Perhaps if he shifted onto his back for a moment or two, but for now Sebastian was content to leave him be; he was breathing tonight, and he found himself idly mesmerized by the expansion and contraction of the seemingly frail chest.
How long had it been? Two weeks, three? Somewhere in that range. Grell could probably tell him down to the hour, but the exact number of days wasn't as important to him as what had occurred within them.
He wasn't nearly as insufferably over-the-top when they were together; interestingly enough, the more time they spent together, the more shy he seemed to get. The first time he'd stayed through the night-an accident, as it happened-he'd woken the next morning and immediately gone into an embarrassed frenzy. By now he was beyond that, typically just rising and staying long enough to tease a bit and establish when they could meet again, attempting playfully to distract him as he prepared for the day.
Speaking of; the sun was just beginning to crest the horizon. He was already behind schedule.
As always, it didn't take more than his shifting to wake his companion; he brushed the hair out of Grell's eyes, black nails gleaming, and leaned to kiss his temple.
"Time to get up..."
The eyes closed again for a moment as he shifted, propping himself up on his elbows; Sebastian stood, smiling, watching the process of his waking with an affectionate gaze as he changed into fresh clothing.
"Sleep well?"
The reaper flicked the long braid of his hair over his shoulder, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.
"...Mmhmm..."
The robe had fallen off one shoulder completely, now, and was gathered in the crook of his elbow; Sebastian laughed quietly, crossing back to the bed and pulling it back over both his shoulders.
"Good morning," He says, leaning in to press a brief kiss to the reaper's lips. "...Oh...you've..."
He wiped the dark smudges of mascara from under his eyes, smiling gently. Grell blushed, pulling away and wiping at his cheeks.
"It's all gone," Sebastian says, laughing softly again. "...Maybe you should take it off before you fall asleep..."
He flapped a hand, taking off and briefly cleaning his glasses.
"Do you have to wear those?" He asked, standing again and sighing as he glanced in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. "You put so much effort into accentuating your eyes..."
"I do," He responded, replacing them, voice still rough with sleep. "Can't see a damn thing without them..." He yawned, stretching. "We all have to wear them..."
"Who's 'we all'?"
"The reapers..." He mumbled, standing. "I'd have thought that you noticed..."
"I never paid much attention," He says, smirking. "But thank you."
He was getting dressed, pulling on his shirt, making a small noise of frustration as the braid got in his way.
"...For?"
"Now I know they've got some kind of weakness...it's not easy to combat your lot empty-handed." He turned, tying the knot that Grell was fumbling with in his tie and kissing the tip of his nose. "Very valuable information."
He smiled, blushing a bit.
"...How long do you have before you have to go tend to-"
"The brat?" Sebastian sighed, handing Grell his jacket. "Not long. ...You'll come back tonight? Scotland Yard hasn't been busy, I don't see why too many souls would need tending..."
"Mmm..." He tossed the jacket onto the bed. "I'll check my book..."
He began to untwist the braid, fingers deftly handling the thick locks of hair.
"...I wonder what the other reapers would do if they ever found out..." Sebastian says with a snort. "Who would be in more trouble, you or I?"
Grell laughed sadly, running a brush through his hair.
"...I might be punished...you might be killed."
He smirked with a soft laugh, touching Grell's hand and taking the brush.
"They've tried before," he says, beginning to run the brush through his hair for him. "I'll risk it...provided they keep you out of it."
"And what would you do if they persecuted us both?"
His fingers accidentally-on-purposely brushed the nape of his neck as he continued.
"Whisk you away somewhere they couldn't touch us."
The touch, having not been clumsy enough to have been accidental, was somewhere between sensual and reassuring; Grell had to bite back a squeal, his usual personality wanting madly to break through. With Sebastian, however, he had deemed it best to subdue his behavior.
"...And if it happened between now and the time you complete your contract?"
Sebastian's motions stopped for the briefest of moments, a barely noticeable hesitation.
"...I don't have much of a choice in my obligations," he says softly. "...To disobey an order and break my contract...is to forfeit my prize..." He trailed off, gazing at the sheet of gleaming copper that hid the reaper's reaction.
"The contract. Of course." His voice hadn't changed, but Grell's shoulders had tensed slightly. "Without it, we'd never get the other reapers away from you..."
"Oh?" Attempting to inject humor into the situation he'd so carelessly blundered, Sebastian took Grell's hand. "Are they all just as infatuated with me as you are...?"
He jerked his hand away, not turning to face him.
"They only tolerate you because you're 'collared'," He says. "Without a contract, they'd destroy you in a second."
Sebastian stared for a moment, slightly stung by the rejection.
"...I don't even think they tolerate me now."
"No, probably not."
"Grell, I'm sorry." Sebastian sighed. "...You know I wouldn't..."
He trailed off; Grell shifted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"...Wouldn't?"
Wouldn't hurt you...wouldn't leave you...wouldn't let you out of my sight, if I didn't have to.
"...You know I couldn't let anything happen to you."
He didn't respond, save to pull his hair over his shoulder and reach for his jacket.
"...Grell..."
The reaper stood, tossing his hair back over his shoulder; he fussed with it when he was frustrated, bored, upset...
"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" He asked, somewhat pointedly, shoving his arms into the sleeves of his coat. "The brat won't appreciate your lateness."
Sebastian stood as well, debating trying to touch his arm or shoulder.
"...You'll find a way to let me know if you can't make it?"
"Mmm. William might have said something about a large amount of souls today..."
Sebastian stopped himself before protesting, crossing to his dresser and picking up his gloves.
"...Then I should begin making the young master's breakfast."
Grell's head turned the slightest bit in Sebastian's direction; he could see him from the corner of his eye.
"...Perhaps you should."
He was waiting to see whether or not he pulled the gloves on; they had agreed that, as long as they were off, they could act as they wanted; however, when he had them on, he would revert to the cool, distant personality he typically wore.
But he was only playing with them, perhaps trying to buy time, or to make him change his mind and act affectionately again.
"...I thought you were going to go to the kitchen."
Sebastian sighed softly, moving toward the door, but still only holding the gloves.
"...Did you forget something?" He asked, tugging on the cuffs on his sleeves, growing spiteful.
"And what would that be?"
"Your makeup."
He whirled in a flash of crimson, eyes narrowed in fury but full of hurt, pulling his arm back to lash out-
Sebastian easily grabbed the other arm and swung him around, shoving him up against the wall. He flinched, a squeak of pain escaping his throat; Sebastian reflexively released him. The green eyes met his, narrowed further, but he could see deep in them how much damage his words had done.
"...Now that you're finally looking at me again," he says softly, eyes flicking away from the accusatory gaze, unable to meet it for more than a moment or so.
"...What do you want."
Grell's voice was flat and void of its usual passion; if he'd thought it was diminished before, it was entirely drained now.
"I want you to stop looking at me like that!" he snapped before thinking, and watched Grell's jaw set in anger. "No-wait-Grell-I'm sorry-"
The cold look in Grell's eyes softened a bit as he stumbled over what he wanted to say. The reaper sighed and looked to the ground.
"...Don't you have work to get to..."
"...Not yet."
He touched Grell's chin, lifting his gaze and brushing his bangs off his forehead, pressing his lips there.
"...I didn't mean what I said about the makeup," he says softly. "...I'm sorry."
Grell sighed, looking away and worrying his lip.
"...I shouldn't have gotten angry."
"No, I can understand that," Sebastian says with a soft laugh. "Even in relation to the contract."
He only shrugged, gently pushing past Sebastian.
"...I'm keeping you from your duties."
"Only because I want to be here. ...You think I'll go without saying a proper goodbye?"
"Hn-?"
He smiled as the reaper half-looked over his shoulder, turning him around and pressing a brief but deep and lingering kiss to his lips, pulling away and meeting his gaze for a moment before tugging on his gloves as he left the room.