Warning: Some Grell x Ciel in this chapter, though I promise it won't happen again.

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The party was in full swing, which naturally meant that Ciel was attempting to keep as much distance as possible between himself and the other guests. He was currently leaning against a large marble balcony that overlooked a courtyard, which boasted the full extent of the eighteenth century's splendour – well maintained grounds that gracefully encircled a hand-carved fountain, Italian style. Ciel found the brisk air and quiet hum of flowing water a pleasant contrast to the excessive chatter and dense perfumed air that drifted past the crystal of the French doors.

It had been highly disconcerting, the ease with which Grell had integrated himself into the upper echelons of society. He'd joined the crowds with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, and had quipped in on various conversations with charming witticisms that had left Ciel slack-jawed, until he'd realized that the shinigami did not fully understand the more subtle layers of meaning behind what he was saying. At one point, the redhead had been persuaded to sing, the string quartet accompanying him, earning appreciative whisperings at his tone; a deep, resonant baritone that caressed the mind like warm honey.

Ciel had the irrational urge to scream that the man was really a raving, cross-dressing psychopath with a chainsaw, but he'd been overwhelmed by waves of curious nobles wanting to enquire further as to the background and identity of the 'charming' stranger known only as the Earl of Phantomhive's guest for the evening. The crowd had taken what seemed like a lifetime to dissipate, but had eventually moved off, doubtless driven away by Ciel's polite but clipped words.

However, the irritation stirred in him by the laughter of individuals dressed even more exuberantly than Grell had been the least of his problems on that particular night.

Ciel had spent the evening making sure the shinigami, his supposed chaperone, didn't get too drunk, and avoiding Elizabeth like the plague. Earlier on, he'd been startled as the warmth of her small arms encircled him as she greeted him warmly, her voice thick with unadulterated love. She'd expressed both delight and surprise at finding him at a social gathering, precisely the kind of event he usually avoided. Always clingy, the girl had hung off him, introducing him as her 'cute fiancé' to anyone that cared to listen.

Ciel had felt a vein on his temples pulsating in annoyance, but he couldn't hate Elizabeth for it. He couldn't even dislike her. Elizabeth was Ciel's only remaining link to his family, having grown up alongside him. It had been his parent's decision that they should be married, and he'd never questioned that command. He'd never had a reason to.

But his parents were gone, and the dead weight beside him felt wrong, somehow. Well, things were …complicated now. He cared about Elizabeth greatly, but he still found himself wanting the arms that were wrapped lovingly around him to dissolve into the thick air wafting uncomfortably around him.

Beside him, a flash of black and a silver tray caught his eye. For a moment, his heart had leapt, and he visibly flinched as he saw white gloves, but the dark tailcoat belonged merely to one of the ambassador's servants, offering Lady Elizabeth a drink.

He repressed the urge to growl in frustration, anger, annoyance.

"Ciel, what's wrong?" Elizabeth's worried tone trailed behind him as he stormed off, but the girl, wisely, did not follow.

***

And so, a scowling Ciel had ended up on the isolated balcony, thinking too much.

Sebastian. The man never seemed to drift too far from Ciel's mind, and it kind of annoyed him. It was as if the imprint of their contract on his pupil demanded that the butler be within sight at all times, and he found himself tracing the imaginary contours of the other's body. Sebastian's graceful limbs, always impeccably covered by the tailored uniform Ciel had him wear. Sebastian's voice, which spoke subservient words with a dangerously controlling edge; Sebastian's smile, that fabricated, polite gesture that made Ciel's stomach tighten to an almost painful degree. He wanted to shatter that façade, to get an honest reaction from him for once.

And yet he wasn't sure that was even possible. Could a human ever arouse even a sliver of real emotion from a creature that might as well be the devil himself?

He knew that what he had nearly done with his butler a week prior was beyond improper – it had been plain foolish. He also knew that despite the fact that he had not willingly instigated it, he had been anything but an unwilling participant, that is, until he'd ended it all with a hasty order.

Telling Sebastian to back off had been hard, and that thought scared him. Even more so because his reasons for doing so were beginning to seem more tedious and if possible, all the more trite. He needed to-

"What's wrong, kiddo?" A drunken inflection bit into his thoughts. "Your fiancée is worried about you, you know? And it's cruel to make a lady worry."

Ciel hadn't noticed the broad crystal of the French doors swing open, nor the light, escaping into the night like bubbles of golden champagne, but the red-head's overbearing presence commanded his attention at once. At the mention of Elizabeth, Ciel's frown deepened.

Grell sauntered over, stumbling, and much too close for comfort. His tousled hair fell in gleaming strands that covered his eyes so that, for a moment, Ciel could only see the satisfied smirk and slight heat of a blush that covered his features.

The Earl of Phantomhive narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think I even want to know what you've been doing."

"C'mon, kid, lighten up. It's a party. But don't try to change the subject. Come and tell me all about your sexual frustrations." The words were only half serious, the tone light: Grell sounded pleasantly drunk, and there was a slight slur to his voice.

Ciel deliberated with himself for a moment. On the one hand, he couldn't trust the shinigami – rumours and gossip flowed freely from his mouth, even when his tongue wasn't loosened by alcohol. On the other, the red-head was swaying as if he were about to pass out any moment, and would likely not remember the conversation later on.

Ciel paused, taking a deep breath, and making certain his voice was steady. To speak his problems out loud, he felt, would make them terrifyingly real.

But Ciel had always spit in the face of fear, metaphorically of course, because his class and upbringing had raised him to consider actually spitting a filthy habit.

"I… want him."

Hating the hesitance in his own voice, young cerulean eyes glared defensively, as if daring the other to challenge his statement.

"Of course you do. Tell me something that wasn't blindingly obvious from the start." Grell leaned forwards slightly, resting his arms on the balcony's marble railing. Ciel was about to snap back an indignant retort, but Grell interrupted, his boisterous words cutting though the frigid London air.

"So you want to jump Sebas-chan? I don't blame you, but… won't your cute little fiancée have something to say about that?"

" Elizabeth 's unconditional love…" Pales in comparison, Ciel admitted to himself. He didn't want to say it, didn't want it to be true. If he could love Elizabeth, he'd face a socially accepted marriage to a woman of rank; have prospects of a family and the possibility of regaining lost happiness. But the boy with no future, whose soul was branded a demon's possession, didn't want salvation. Ciel didn't care if the electric spark of desire he felt for his butler was merely the rush of carnal sin – platonic love and a stable relationship were inferior, weaker feelings.

"Don't want the girl, huh? Then let's experiment slightly." There was a mischievous twinkle infecting the alcohol-dulled gleam of Grell's eyes. "I was always curious about why Sebas-chan wanted you of all people…"

Suddenly, Ciel didn't feel comfortable alone with that man. He took a hasty step back, as hurriedly as he could whilst making it seem natural, but the shinigami had already drawn up against him, throwing his arms around him, and pressing Ciel close.

"What would you feel," the lips that were bearing down on his ear reeked of liquor, whispering, almost mouthing the words against him, "if this mouth, these hands belonged to Sebas-chan?"

Instinctively, Ciel had shut his eyes, the red-head's words sending a shiver of almost violent intensity shaking his small frame. Vagrant hands wandered his body, slipping beneath the folds of his clothes, and making him struggle to keep his breathing even.

Those hands were heavier and clumsier than the demon's, but Ciel still felt a guilty rush of pleasure. With his eyes closed, he found he could almost lose himself in thoughts of smooth black, in the cavernous depths of crimson eyes.

He moaned, trying to keep hold of the fantasy. But Grell's caresses would never suffice.

Groaning slightly, Ciel tried to disentangle himself from the shinigami, but the man only pulled him closer, shoving him none too gently against the balcony. In the courtyard below, he could make out the silhouette of the Undertaker waiting patiently in the hearse, a fair distance from the other coachmen, who seemed to gravitate away from him.

Hissing, Ciel began to struggle in earnest. "Grell, stop it. It's illegal to flirt with men."

"Really?" Ignoring the fact that things had progressed beyond flirting, the shinigami stopped, sounding for once genuinely interested. The pause however, lasted only a heartbeat before he returned to nipping sharp kisses down Ciel's neck. "Says who?"

"Uh, the Queen." Ciel was having trouble focusing, and had to pronounce each syllable carefully. When Grell's hand hovered over his belt-buckle, Ciel's small hand grasped it, unsure of whether it was wise to let the shinigami continue.

"The Queen and what army?" And suddenly, Grell was back to being nothing more than a drunken fool.

"The Criminal Law Amendment Act, passed in 1885, is a law for the protection of minors that also condemns every kind of homosexuality." That small fact was expressed mechanically, automatically, as if it had been seared into Ciel's mind. He'd been exploring the issue from a multitude of angles lately, and it showed in how readily the words flowed from his lips.

Instead of commenting on that detail, however, Grell burst out laughing.

"A legal act against indecency towards minors which also illegalizes homosexuality?" The shinigami released Ciel in order to clutch at his sides, a vain effort to control his drunken giggles. "Is there some member of parliament with a particular grudge against Sebas-chan?"

Ciel frowned.

"Don't take life so seriously, kiddo. Do you really think Sebas-chan would allow you to serve out even a half-day in prison?" The hyperactive redhead was having trouble standing, tilting at a precarious angle before steadying himself. "Come on, I'll take you home, where you can commit that particular crime three, maybe four times …but of course that depends on Sebas-chan's stamina, and you will naturally confess in explicit detail when I helpfully conduct a criminal interrogation on behalf of Scotland Yard tomorrow morning and-"

Glad of the darkness, which masked his embarrassment, Ciel half dragged the drunk down a marble flight of stairs, suited perfectly to the Georgian mansion, which led directly to the courtyard, and their ride. Neither man looked back: Ciel was in a hurry to escape the social gathering from hell and return to his demon butler; and Grell was too inebriated to lift his head.

Because of this, neither of them saw the wide eyes of a horrified Elizabeth, who had watched the entire scene from the glittering ballroom.

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AN: I'm very sorry about the stupidly long delay. And about the chapter too. After taking this long to update, we're still not at the good bit… And there's some Grell x Ciel there too… unlikely, and possibly highly ooc, my only excuse is that Grell was drunk, Ciel is young, inexperienced and prone to making mistakes, the author is yaoi-starved, Sebastian's reaction is gonna be immensely fun to write, and despite the improbability of it, it fits quite well with what I have planned…

Regardless, this story is still Sebastian x Ciel, so I'll hereby promise no more inappropriate Grell action. That is, if you're still interested in reading it after all this time… *hangs head in shame*