Ciel Phantomhive was having a staring match with his phone. His eyes glazed over it with an intense ferocity, daring the hunk of metal to make its "blink" before he. This silent battle continued for what felt like decades, time becoming a thicker bowl of soup every time his gaze intensified. At last, the creature let out a howl of rage, shrieking through a clutter of dings and beeps.

"She said she's sorry, you know. She couldn't have known it was party night in the Trancyhive household."

This only caused Ciel to stare more angrily, to writhe with displeasure and contort all of his features. He despised the conjoining of their names in such a way, as if their was any sort of matrimony to be associated with the two of them. "You of all people should forgive her the least, given you're about to be expelled! You'd be better off to shut your mouth and pack faster."

Alois pouted, putting his one and only book into the battered old box he had deemed "suitcase". They had given him a time limit as far as moving preparations, which was why he shouldn't be dilly-dallying nearly as much as he was. "I'm not expelled! They're just switching me out of this room for a while. And taking me out of all my classes. And prohibiting me from wandering around all areas of school campus, excluding the library and cafeteria."

His cell phone rang again. Ciel tsk'ed at it. "Alois," he said, "that's our school's way of expelling someone." The smart thing to do would have been to turn off his ringer, but in doing so Ciel would be deriving himself of the pure fury he retained from glaring at it according to each newfound sound.

"You aren't really mad for my sake, though. You're just mad that you didn't get your goodnight kiss." Alois had finished packing, his single box spilling outward back onto his bed every time he tried to move it. Stickers and jolly ranchers kept reverting back to box-vomit, exposing the blond for the childish imp that he truly was. Ciel looked on him with disdain, harnessing a visible lack of amusement for his commentary. A lack of amusement for his person. A lack of amusement in general.

"I don't know what you're on about," he said. The phone rang again.

"You two were being dirtier than I was, don't think I didn't see it. Alois turned his full attention to his friend, stepping close to where he sat on the floor, "I have eyes in my back, you know." Ciel grabbed at a handful of carpet. The tiny colored bits scratched at his palms like a swarm of insects would, but they made for a valued distraction.

"That isn't how the phrase goes!"

Alois giggled. "You're really angry now. And you know why? It's because you like him. A lot. And instead of being rational about your feelings, you're going to hate yourself for it, because that's what you do. And because you're scared. You're scared that you aren't good enough. At flirting, at loving, at kissing. You're scared you'll make yourself look like a fool in trying."

Ciel twitched uncomfortably with each accusation. Alois looked at him now, with an intensity he scarcely showed outside of bedroom intervals. His expression widened with a sort of pity, an ill-fitted pity, a pity that did not match his cutely colored socks or playfully parting lips. His face questioned Ciel before his vocal chords ever could, though both realized the answer without speaking. "You don't know how, do you?" He persisted, answering his own contemplation. "You don't know how to love."

"Christ, can you stop yammering for even half a second?!"

Ciel's phone hit the wall. This surprised even Alois, who knew how quick to anger and retaliation his best friend was, especially when it came to his own teasing. The other thing that surprised him, was the fact that Ciel had stood up and stepped forward pre-throw, that their bodies now met in the near perfect center of the room, and he could feel the other's heavy and ragged breathing against his chest.

Alois cocked his head inquisitively. He looked at the other, at his flaming eyes and pouty lips and neck made of ivory. "I can help you, if you want. I'll kiss you first, so you can know how." Ciel didn't have an answer to that for a whole half-minute, he didn't have an answer even as Alois parted his lips and leaned forward so that their breath mingled and their eyes were locked so closely. He didn't have an answer until they were almost kissing. Then without warning, he shoved. Alois backed into his own box, spilling out even more scandalous clothing and colorful items. He was hanging out of it pathetically now, as if he were to be the last inanimate object removed from the room. His arms and legs dangled out of each corner in a tragically doll-like fashion, his eyes looked squinty, as if he were about to cry. Ciel spoke now, to the boy and his box and to himself.

"I'd rather eat dirt than kiss the likes of you," he spat, before wandering over to pick up the two halves of his phone.

Alois was still smiling, despite his eyes. He was regathering his things. He was trying to subdue the shake in his hands. "Sometimes Ciel, sometimes you aren't a very good friend."

Ciel was taken aback by such blasphemy. If anything, Alois wasn't a good friend. He was clingy, and messy, and ruined your reputation. He had trouble with organization and always talked too loudly during class. Ciel considered himself the type of person who understood most things, but this interaction in particular, he just could not wrap his head around.

Alois had left the room already and there was no trace of him, save for a stray piece of candy that sat in the center of the carpet.