**TRIGGER WARNING** Not exactly non-con, but if you might be sensitive to those themes, please skip this chapter or at the very least proceed with caution.
A crust of salt crystals had formed at his tear ducts. Sea salt. At the corners of his mouth and a light coating over the rest of his skin. It gave him a mild burn, but he did not mind it all too much.
There were seagulls in the distance.
The pink sunshine of dawn worked its way through the fingers shielding his mismatched eyes. It was warm. Nice.
It was nice.
He could hear Sebastian's ragged breathing. Hyperventilating. Ciel didn't know demons could hyperventilate.
His hands slid off his face, and there was his protector. Standing over him, victorious. Covered in gore but undoubtedly still alive. Both of them were alive. Ciel didn't know why that seemed surprising.
Sebastian was shredded. His clothing was pulled over numerous bite marks and claw marks, as well as the giant rent Undertaker gouged into him. Not that the layers of material did anything to hide them. Ciel didn't know it was possible for anything to bleed like that.
Ciel had his own injuries. He had scrapes on his eternally immaculate skin, and bruises blossoming where he'd known himself to be only pale. Expect three years ago. But this was different; he was safe now. This pain was not that bad.
These wounds went only skin deep.
But the both of them were always this way, come to think of it. Half-healed. Half-broken. From the moment they met.
Ciel swallowed dry. "Is it … over?" he asked.
Of course, my lord.
The strength the demon borrowed from the contract fled his body as the previous order was satisfied.
Sebastian fell forward, his kneecaps smashing into the wooden planks. An arm swung around to clutch his own waist, keeping his cinematic record in. By all logic, he should be dead.
"Sebastian!"
Young master, your concern is endearing.
The demon gritted his teeth, fangs biting into gums. Claws grew out under his stained gloves, and he dug the points on his free hand into his thigh. Those parasitic creatures left him too drained to mend himself. Too dry to think straight or function.
The young master's tone prompted an explanation. A half truth would have to suffice.
"A death scythe blow is quite tough even on someone like me." His eyes squeezed shut, straining to hold on to some form of control. The effort made perspiration run down his face.
"Undertaker … how does he fit into any of this? What is he trying to achieve?"
Thank the devil for his master's tunnel-vision obliviousness.
"I cannot comprehend, but…" Sebastian's hand moved from his leg to the floor. He dragged his nails into the wood, gripping on to it for dear life. There. Breathe. "… as long as you have those funeral lockets … I'm sure one day we'll meet again."
He steadied himself. "He did not seem to want to cause you any harm, but I'd rather not run into him again."
"I haven't ever seen you like this before."
I never wanted anyone to see me in this manner. It is the fundamental reason our contract exists.
"I am deeply sorry for my unseemly state," he gasped out. "I have failed as the Phantomhive family butler."
"You have yet to fail me, Sebastian. Quit acting like you have."
Young master, if only you knew.
A milky white hand placed itself on the butler's leg. Compassionately. Tenderly.
White hot fire from the contract flooded through him as a warning. To suppress the urges. To stay in control.
"Agh—," Sebastian threw himself to the other side of the boat, away from Ciel's touch. He was panting. Crimson eyes dilated and flashing at the earl. Savage. Bestial.
"It's that bad then." Ciel sat back in on his heels, not a hint of fear gracing his face.
The demon grimaced.
Ciel sighed as he looked out over the water. "I think I can make out a rescue ship. Will you be able to hold yourself together at least until we make it to port?"
"Master, I—"
"One word. Yes, no, or don't you dare bother answering."
An aspirated breath. Then nothing.
"Sebastian … I can't have the Phantomhive family butler staying like this. Take a good rest once we get back to the Manor." Ciel paused, preparing himself.
"But apparently even your self-restraint must have its limits. Therefore, I forbid you from taking any soul from the rescue ship—that's an order."
Sebastian forced his throat to swallow the extra saliva in his mouth.
"Y-yes, my lord."
A wash of blessed fortitude flooded his mind. Enough to take the edge off the craving. Enough to not rip open a sailor and swallow him down whole.
Sebastian met his gaze with wordless gratitude.
"You did well today." No pity was held in the earl's words. There was nothing to be gained from empty praise. That was the understanding they had.
"Young master … please stop. For you to say such a thing … I don't wish to see a storm after all this."
And storm it will.
The man was in his mid-thirties. Dust brown hair. Freckles. Slightly yellowed teeth, but not enough to be offensive. He wore a shirt and pants, both stained and otherwise plain. He had no scars, markings, or piercings. He had no personal effects. There was nothing remarkable about this human, except that he was out alone on the rescue ship, that would prompt him to be targeted.
The man stiffened. "You there, are you following me?"
The well-dressed stranger moved out of the shadows. The moonlight on the main deck fell on his stoic expression, his captivating features. A light sheen of sweat wet his brow.
"That depends, sir. Would you want me to be?"
"N-no it's just … I don't have smokes or nothing if that's what you're after."
The stranger moved closer, slowly. Hesitating between each step.
"I-I j-just wanted to get s-some air." The man's brain practically yelled at him to run. Why? That simply wasn't rational behavior.
"Not to worry. Smoking is not my vice."
The man's feet were filled with lead. Leave. Leave now.
"T-that's good, I suppose. I quit after my sister … she kicked it herself a couple of years back."
Are you insane? Don't talk to him. Just go!
"My condolences."
"T-thanks. She was real special to me."
"May I ask you a question, good sir?"
He couldn't refuse even if he wanted to.
"Are you a criminal?"
"N-no. That's a bit … uh … forward, don't ya think?
"Ah yes. However, it is quite a pity that you're not. At least then I could have provided some justification for my actions."
The gap between them closed. The stranger cupped the man's face in his gloved hand, his ability to abstain any longer completely lost.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"I am touching your skin," The contact made his breathing shallow and desperate. He traced a tear off the man's face.
"Yeah, I noticed that much! Could you stop! P-please … I fancy women, not—"
"Shhh. This not a proposition."
The man's eyes glazed over, an instinctual fear gripping his heart. "Then what is this?"
The beautiful stranger regarded the quivering man with sincerity.
"It's trial for me. A test, if you will. And a rather cruel one, at that."
With that, the man was pinned against the railing, his back arched over metal bar. His feet lifted off the deck as the stranger, even in his weakened state, managed to suspend him over the ocean's depth.
"N-no no no NO! Please NO! I'm BEGGING you PLEASE don't! Not back in the water! Not with those things out there! You can't!"
The stranger's fine face relaxed as his self-denial melted away, allowing his body to do what it required.
"Which is stronger, my loyalty to my master …"
"NO PLEASE WAIT STOP!"
A white glove was peeled off. There was an occult symbol etched into the stranger's hand, and the skin surrounding the insignia was raised and tortured.
"OH PLEASE GOD HELP ME HAVE MERCY PLEASE!"
"… or this."
Sebastian pressed his lips softly to the man's mouth. Immediately, both of predator and prey convulsed in agony.
