So writing commissions are still open on my blog forgottenwoundsartist, but you can now access info on the video game I'm developing on my instagram lastlifecreations and on my Last Life Creations :) As my wrist pain gets worse, I'm gonna have to start picking what projects I can work on...I'm already slowing down, as I'm sure you've noticed. I hope ypu enjoy what I can put out.

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"He can't be serious! He was just teasing you, Finny, the young lord hasn't been permitted to leave this manor for anything but Christmas parties and weddings in, what, two years? There's no way Master Vincent would take him to one of the factories, he hardly thinks the air of London is fit enough for his son to breathe."

"Well, he seemed rather certain it was going to happen; he's been all but hiding. I couldn't tell if he was nervous or excited."

Mey-Rin huffed instead of speaking her response, lifting a tablecloth out of her laundry basket and stringing it over the clothesline. Finny turned back to look at her, curled over the flowerbed that ran against the house.

Neither of them noticed Sebastian, standing at an open window on the second floor.

"But why on earth would Master Vincent even want to go to any of the factories himself? I can't hardly remember a time he did that on his own, no, I can't."

"I guess he found some numbers in the records that don't make sense. Master Ciel wasn't terribly sure, either."

Sebastian smiled.

What a clever move, Ciel.

"That doesn't sound like a terribly big deal."

"I don't think it normally is, but I think he suspects that the workers aren't being paid the right way."

Finny tugged a plant out of the soil—if he had looked closer, he would have seen that it was a budding lily—and tossed it into the weed bucket.

"But why would Ciel be so nervous, then?"

"Like I said, I couldn't tell if he was nervous or excited."

"Finny, you know that boy. He would never hide somewhere if he was excited. It's hardly any wonder Bard went looking for him."

Neither of them noticed Sebastian's shadow pass above them.

There was a cigarette butt crushed into the pathway in front of the azalea bush.

The door to the garden shed was just barely opened. Light was streaming into the room from the only window, set into the roof, dust particles floating down.

Ciel was sitting on the counter of the workbench, Bard looming over him, draped across the young man. They were kissing.

Bard was moving roughly, desperately, needily, but Sebastian could see what was lacking, what kept Ciel from doing the same; passion. Bard was simply acting upon all the lust that had developed over so many instances of being hung out to dry by the young man. Anyone probably could have served in Ciel's place. Ciel wanted someone who cared about him, specifically, though from the way he held his delicate hands around Bard's shoulder, lifting his jaw, he could pretend well enough.

Bard was moving with sharp, hungry movements, devouring Ciel's demure mouth, who only held Bard and let himself be kissed.

Bard pulled Ciel's hips to the edge of the counter, scattering a gardening pail in his vy to get Ciel closer, and attempted to press his tongue past Ciel's lips.

Ciel gasped, but rather than speak, simply turned his head away.

Bard didn't seem to care. He dropped his head slightly and began mouthing against Ciel's neck, deep, even rough, as if to try to leave bruises.

Sebastian was almost certain Ciel knew he was there, but Ciel simply looked up at the ceiling, dingy and darkened wood, gentle hands resting over Bard's body.

Bard tugged Ciel sharply, holding one of his arms around Ciel's waist, keeping his hips pressed to Bard's, and began tugging at the collar of Ciel's shirt.

Ciel made another little sound, his toes tightening in his shoes.

"Bard, don't you think we ought to—nnn—calm down? What if someone's looking for us? We've already been gone for so long."

Ciel, interrupting himself as Bard nipped at the flesh of his jaw, closed his hand around Bard's bicep.

"C'mon, baby doll, nobody would ever think to look around here for either of us. We can hide out as looong as we want." Bard practically growled, gyrating his hips forward into Ciel's, who gasped sharply, clearly not planning on doing anything like this. Bard tugged open the top button of Ciel's shirt, either unaware or uncaring of Ciel's mounting discomfort, running his big, warm hand down Ciel's side to draw him closer. Ciel's arms snaked around Bard's shoulders, body so small in comparison to the older man's, so fragile.

Bard was probably terrible to Ciel, ignoring his words, being so rough, wanting Ciel far more than Ciel wanted him. He probably tasted like smoke and hunger.

Ciel whimpered quietly. Bard had closed his hand around Ciel's pale thigh, coaxing his shorts up, hand so large compared to Ciel that it could practically close around his leg.

"Bard, what're yo-"

Ciel was silenced by Bard kissing him quickly, running his thumb over that sensitive flesh of Ciel's inner thigh.

"Shh, baby, don't worry about it." Bard hummed, finally managing to open Ciel's mouth with his own and fill him with his tongue. Ciel whimpered again nervously, hands retracting from Bard's shoulders, falling to his forearms, forming fists around fabric. He tried, briefly, to lean back, but Bard was leaning forward, chasing him.

It was too much, Ciel hadn't wanted this, wasn't prepared for this.

Ciel was so small, so fragile, in Bard's hold, and he mewled nervously as Bard's hand tugged him closer by his thigh, already bruising ever so slightly.

Bard untucked Ciel's shirt partially, quickly, and Ciel squirmed suddenly, a panicked sound in his throat.

"Bard, this is too m-haah…" Ciel tried to protest, but Bard pushed his hand up under Ciel's shirt, making him shudder.

Bard had no reason to listen, not when Ciel wasn't fighting back, simply protesting, and Sebastian had no good reason to stop him.

None he would have been able to explain, anyway.

Ciel made another worried, uncomfortable sound, and Sebastian turned away from the door.

He went back to the manor.