{ I'm not really sure where I want to go with this story, you guys. If you've got any suggestions (plot-twists, random scene ideas, a chapter that explains how a bunch of the side characters feel about this 'relationship', anything really...) then please leave your thoughts in the reviews or PM me about it! I could really use your help and I'd really appreciate it, as always! That said, enjoy this chapter~ }

*Ciel's POV*

When the young demon woke up next, the rays of light were just barely shining through the shutters that covered the shop's window. The first thing he noticed was the lack of the mortician's presence at his side. Rubbing his tired eyes , he stretched and pushed the black cloak away from him. Peeking over at the rocking chair, he couldn't repress the small smile that formed; Undertaker had fallen asleep with the poetry book in his hands and was now slouched in the chair, his top-hat tilted down to block the vague glints of sunlight from his eyes. It was actually sort of…. cute.

Ciel had to cover his mouth with one of his hands as he got out of the coffin, attempting to quiet his amusement at his own choice of words.

Cute. Lizzy would be so proud.

Lizzy.

Flinching at the memories that this thought had caused, Ciel sighed under his breath. If it hadn't been for the Undertaker's sleeping form so near to where he stood, the young demon would likely have screamed at himself for thinking about his ex-fiance. Silently convincing himself that the thought was unimportant, that there was no reason to be angered by the habitual thought of Elizabeth, Ciel moved over to where the Undertaker sat in his chair.

Again, a small smile formed on the child's lips as he grabbed the book from the mortician's lap and set it on the nearby coffee table. Then he unfolded the elder's cloak from himself and laid it over the sleeping funeral director. From the looks of it, the reaper had been up fairly late the night before. "Sweet dreams, 'Taker," he murmured, then looked to the clock; it was usually around this time that the Undertaker's shop opened.

Deciding to set up the place by the funeral director got some rest, Ciel went into the back room and surveyed the room. Luckily, any corpses that had been delivered were already taken care of, though it looked like the Undertaker had neglected to clean the room up when he was finished. Grabbing a cloth and the bucket of water, Ciel went to work at scrubbing down the tables and then sweeping the floors so that the work-space wouldn't be cluttered with dust. Nothing looked worse than a dead person with a fresh tea stain on their clothes…

Once that was taken care of, the Earl made his way to the front of the shop again, walking quietly as to not disturb the sleeping mortician. He went outside for a moment to flip the Closed sign to Open, then ducked back into the Undertaker's home and put water on for a pot of tea. It would have likely looked strange, had anyone he'd known in the past seen Ciel that morning; usually, Sebastian handled all these tedious little chores, but the fact of the matter was that the Earl was capable of doing it himself - so he did, for the moment.

With the tea brewed, he left it on the fireplace to stay warm while he took care of the other early morning chores that required leaving the shop. This included checking the mail, picking up a few groceries (there was a list that Ciel had grabbed from the table), and sending out the small cards that the Undertaker wrote up for the the loved ones' of the dead.

*Undertaker's POV*

When the mortician awoke, he stretched and adjusted the hat so that he could see, looking around the room. Ciel was absent and his cloak had been tucked lightly around him, his book moved to the table. Smiling at what was no doubt the boy's help, he got up and searched the small shop; when he didn't find Ciel, he went to the table and found the note that the Earl had left:

'Taker,

The tea should be warm still, so help yourself. I'll take care of the shopping and send out the mail while I'm out. See you soon.

-Ciel Phantomhive

His faint smile turned into a grin as he read the brief explanation that the Phantomhive boy had left. Pouring himself a vial of tea, he sat atop one of the coffin-seats that his home included. Maybe a half hour passed before the door opened to reveal Ciel; a couple bags were slung over his arm as he shut the door behind himself. "Morning, 'Taker," he greeted, "I picked up the things that were on your list." He went to the back for a moment to set the bags down, then returned to sit at Undertaker's side.

"Well, good morning, lad," the mortician flashed a grin at the other male, "Thank you. You really didn't have to go through all that trouble; you could've just woken me up." He was actually very surprised that the Phantomhive boy had went through all that trouble for him.

Shrugging his shoulders, Ciel simply said, "I know, but I wanted to do something nice for you. You've already put yourself through so much trouble for me."

Somewhat baffled, the Undertaker moved on the subject by offering the vial, "Tea?" Flashing a smile when the child accepted it, he wrapped an arm around his company's shoulder and left a noisy kiss on his cheek. The light blush on the other's face had the funeral director cackling with laughter within seconds; it was absolutely adorable.

*Ciel's POV*

From the moment the Undertaker's arm had wrapped around his shoulders, Ciel had relaxed. However, the jokingly loud kiss against his cheek left his usually cool skin hot with blush as he tried to repress his embarrassment. "'Taker," he grumbled, much like a pouting child would have, before taking a drink of the tea as he rolled his red eyes at his companion.

The tea had a strange taste to it that he wasn't entirely accustomed to, but it was.. quite pleasant, too. It reminded the Earl vaguely of copper and stirred parts of his demonic heart that he didn't quite understand. Curious, he asked, "Have you made more tea since I've been gone?"

"Ah, yes, it's a black tea with a touch of sugar," he replied absently, waving his hand dismissively at the topic. Then something seemed to register in his mind and he started to laugh hysterically, confusing the young Earl.

"What… what's so funny?" Ciel demanded after a few minutes of the crazed laughing had passed, his eyes wide with curiosity. The Undertaker held up a hand for silence as he caught his breath, then leaned in close, whispering the secret additive—which most certainly was not sugar, though that was in fact in the tea—into the young Earl's ear.

"You, 'Taker, are a sick son of a…"

{ It's blood, if anyone missed that. Don't judge me, Undertaker's morbid as all bloody Hell and we all know it. *cough* bone biscuits *cough* }