The demon sighed with heavy sweat and almost struggle in his voice, his hands clamped down deep into Ms. Klammer's thighs as her nails almost broke through the chiseled flesh and bone of his chest and ribcage. The tight embrace and constant trembling, the movement...The demon's legs were spread like hers in his attempt to reach fruition, her embrace straining his length deeper. Atop him, the Diva spared no tantalization and kept at a pace that would grant no pain, but ambition. Up...down...breathe...clench...moan...sweat...The repetition mixed itself in sync with opposing sounds and movements; desires mixed into one crucible as the fire increased. They were choking on their tongue, begging for silence that the young master would not wake, before Diva's endeavors for the demon's ejaculation had been fulfilled...And within the next moment the demon released a mutual groan, panting softly as the momentary ecstasy passed through a hazy evermore.

The Diva touched his cheek, "Even in the moment of passion your skin holds no red...I want it,"

The demon had set himself to bed around two a.m, after cleaning up the mess in the library, feeling rather refreshed. Sex was an incentive for demons as much as it was to humans; it relieved the stress in his chest and he felt he could enjoy a natural slumber before his master awoke. He opened the curtains so the sunlight would hit his eyes with the sun's rising, and made the bed before sliding in. He would've gladly fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, when a sudden cry filled the air. It was not the Diva, as she was now in her own bed (and fully dressed) but a cry similar to that of the ecstasy Ms. Klammer had granted him. He sat up abruptly as the red shinigami burst through his window.

"Ah~!" Grell cried, pouting as he slid on the floor and bumped his head harshly on one of the bed's legs, "I missed it! I missed seeing you in your moment of fruition! Damn William, calling me away from that moonlit erotica!"

He stood, resting his arms on the demon's bed and his head on his folded arms, "Or perhaps I've just arrived to witness a second coming?"

The demon sighed, rubbing his temple, "What right have you to rush in here when I am trying to sleep? It is not wise to wake a sleeping demon,"

"But Sebby wasn't sleeping!" Grell whined, hugging his leg, "At least not yet~!"

The demon grimaced and promptly kicked the shinigami off with his free leg, thrusting him halfway across the room and skid onto the floor (which tore his jacket and some threads of hair from his head.)

"Aw~AH~!" Grell cried, grabbing his head as he sat up, "Why so rough? You weren't this rough with that prissy little hag,"

"First off," Sebastian stood after folding the covers besides him, "When have I never been rough with you?"

"Ahh!" Grell raged, standing with his fists balled, "So mean!"

"Secondly, Ms. Klammer did not break through my window, which I will now have to spend the night repairing," Sebastian glared at the shinigami, "I would much appreciate it if you left,"

"Ne, I am staying," Grell asserted, "As much as I hate William, he's given me such a wonderful assignment to be near you!"

Sebastian was silent for a moment, vaguely interested (as he was thinking lucidly for the first time in years) in Grell's words, "For what purpose does he need you here?"

"Didn't you listen the other day?" Grell pouted playfully, "Ciel's soul is at the edge of my chainsaw! Just one rev and I shall tear it away like the color from a leaf~! Ah!"

He took a dramatic pose for a moment before materializing Ciel's Magic Play in his hand and skimming the pages, "The boring part is staying here and observing it...Grr! A lady can't camp out for so long! She needs fun in the sun and time to pamper herself~!"

Sebastian sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "If you must stay here do leave this room and do not let my master know you are here,"

He started, "Now leave so I may clean up this mess you've made and so I can enjoy the rest of my evening,"

"Oh, can't I enjoy it with you?" Grell cooed, nuzzling his knees as he crawled over the demon. With a sigh, the demon picked the shinigami up and tossed him through the second window in his room, hoping the glass connecting with his face would convey the message the shinigami seemed to never get.

"Ah!" Grell cried, the force of the throw lodging him in a tree, "Be gentle Sebas-chan!"

The demon rolled his eyes and turned to clean up the mess.

After cleaning up the mess the shinigami made (with his face, which humored the demon's sick taste in laughter) Sebastian found it relatively difficult to fall asleep from that moment on. Despite Grell was annoying flamboyant and seemed to consume too much sugar (which was most likely the reason for his hyper-activity in the areas of passion and violent ballet) his words somehow lodged themselves in the space between the demon's brain and eyeballs. He could almost see that it was a possibility, but his brain considered that the shinigami was simply being mislead by his leader (since many vital reapings seemed to be...misplaced by his excessive excited reaper.)

Often times, despite his stature as a Division Leader, William T. Spears appeared to hate Sebastian more than he hated any other demon. It was quite apparent when Claude Faustus had taken Alois' Trancy's soul and placed it within his ring. Of course, he knew that shinigami had Alois' Magic Play and it would've been logical to double check who was messing with the soul (that Grell was assigned to reap.) Nonetheless, the shinigami pursued Sebastian instead. Henceforth, part of his now eased mind highly doubted that Grell was at the Manor for the reasons he stated.

If not, he was here for Deva's soul or perhaps it was an assassination of the sorts? No, even if Grell were ordered, he'd never spill the demon's blood for such a reason. Only in the throes if their passion, or the moonlight's caress, would he lavish in tearing the demon's heart from his chest and placing it within his own, breathless chest cavity. He'd want that liquid fire to pervade in his veins with demon's dark rage and calm suffering. He'd never endure such masochistic ecstasy under an order, where it was limited and not drawn out into one instance of eternity. No, certainly that dimwitted child of a death god wouldn't follow an order such as that.

He was now considering that Jakob meant to betray him, but as his mind mumbled on his carnal needs took over. He found himself in a steady repose that slowly turned into slumber.