For my lovely girlfriend, who was sick when she requested an aftercare fic, but was already well again by the time I actually started writing it. It's the thought that counts, right...? 3
Of all sounds, Sebastian did not expect to hear his master weep pitifully the second he pulled out of his tight, slick hole.
It was a soft sound, really. Hummed from deep within the young lord's chest, muffled by the fine, feathered pillow he pressed into. His small form bounced gently with every near-silent cry, and the bitter scent of salty tears assaulted his butler's nose.
Sebastian was at a loss, blinking owlishly at the peculiar display.
The boy had become quiet once he had pressed inside, considering his usual whines and yelps during their nightly trysts. The demon had attributed the strange behavior to fatigue-the young earl had a rather trying day between placating his fiancée, entertaining a surprise visit from Prince Soma, and summing up the details of their stay at Weston College in a letter to her majesty. But now, Sebastian was more than certain that he had been wrong from the beginning.
His young master was often rather vocal about any source of discomfort, any action or position he found even mildly displeasing. But he had not turned Sebastian away in favour of sleep, nor had he complained when the demon took him in his arms, crushed his lips to his own, and hastily pushed three fingers into the nobleman's clenching orifice.
However, that is when his moans had subsided, and the unholy being could only curse himself for not noticing sooner.
"My lord, whatever is the matter?" Sebastian asked, wary and slow in his movements, keeping his voice level and hushed to avoid startling his trembling little master.
He silently appraised the boy's thin back for wounds, inspecting the plum bite mark near his nape with the gentle graze of his forefinger.
Ciel flinched at the cold touch, but did not jolt away, merely curled farther beneath the rumpled sheets, as if trying to escape his servant's familiar touch. He did not answer the question asked of him, but a quiet grunt left his throat when one of Sebastian's bare hands stroked between his tensed shoulder-blades.
It was a rough and warbling sound, somewhere between a plea and a warning-like a wounded animal. It was almost enough to make Sebastian regret touching him again, stroking more carefully, this time along the boy's ribs to check for fractures.
"You must talk to me, young master. I cannot aid you if I don't know what troubles you," Sebastian reminded, pressing a kiss into the sea of slate framing the boy's hidden face. With great attention to the human's physical reactions to his touch, he turned him onto his side, only receiving resistance when he attempted to flip him onto his back. A sudden yelp and a slap to his careful palms stopped him in his tracks.
"Did I injure you?" Sebastian questioned, almost tenderly.
It seemed that was the wrong thing to ask, however.
"What do you fucking think?" Ciel snapped, his tone distressed and shaky, simmering with anger. Betrayal.
He had given himself to the devil a year prior. The creature had sworn to him on their first night together that he would never truly harm him, and yet here he was now, aching, cheeks wet with shame, and overflowing with disappointment in both himself and the man he allowed to bed him.
He had finished, Sebastian made sure of that, as he always did. But coming undone so deliciously meant nothing when he throbbed so terribly.
His butler was often rough, sometimes leaving his hips sore and thighs bruised for days after, but never before had he taken him so quickly, so recklessly. His chest was tight with his upset, and he could only heft his bedding higher and angrily sniffle into his unclothed forearm.
How he despised showing weakness in front of the devil.
Sebastian heaved a sigh, extracting his master from beneath his sheets with a hasty jerk of the bedding. "I apologize for what I have done, young master. But how can I make it right when you will not- oh."
And there it was, the answer to his query that his flushed, teary-eyed master dared not speak.
Blood.
It glistened on the sheets in the faint light of the candelabra, lazy rivulets dripping down his master's soft thighs as Sebastian examined the situation with a budding tinge of regret.
He had not been gentle, nor as generous with preparation as he often was, that much he knew. But had he truly been rough enough to draw blood and leave the young mortal shivering at a mere graze of his fingers?
"My lord... Had I been aware, I would have stopped immediately," Sebastian placated, brows pulled together as he reached out slowly. He stroked small circles into the outside of the boy's right knee; the action did not calm the boy as well as he'd hoped.
"Why didn't you tell me that I was hurting you?"
"You were enjoying it," Ciel muttered, voice strained. He curled onto his side, his back to the demon, and gave a stilted groan at the sting following his movement. "Last time, you didn't get to finish. I did not wish to interfere again." Sucking in a sharp breath, interrupted briefly by a quavering hiccup, the boy continued. "You could have at least given me time to adjust, however. I'm not a bloody harlot."
"I did not finish last time because that was not our aim. You had a nightmare, you needed sleep, I merely aided you in relaxing," Sebastian chided softly. He settled against the finely-carved headboard with his fingers delicately buried in his master's hair, untangling his sweat-dampened locks with the precision of a butler, the care of a lover. "Should you need me to, I would not hesitate to stop. You have no need for guilt over asking."
A wavering "okay" was all that Sebastian needed to finally wrap Ciel in his arms. The boy was still, his hands trapped between the warmth of their chests, but he didn't resist the demon, merely breathed deeply, willing his silent cries to subside.
Several moments passed without a word spoken, their combined breaths and Ciel's calming heartbeat the only sounds filling Sebastian's ears. His hand caressed betwixt his master's shoulders, and gradually, Ciel's muscles began to uncoil, loosening in the way that they usually did after his final cries of pleasure.
And yet, his quiet whimpers refused to cease. He was still bleeding, the warm mixture of sanguine and seed leaking from his pink hole.
"How do you feel about a bath, young master?" the demon asked, bundling the little thing up in his stained sheets when he received a small nod. He needed to clean the boy up and calm him down before he could assess the extent of the nobleman's injury-an action his master was unlikely to take well.
Balancing the earl in one arm, he turned the tap and allowed warm water to begin filling the tub, adding a hint of frankincense as he felt his master's head bump against his kiss-bitten throat.
With a deep, rumbling croon, he pried the blankets away from his charge, slowly lowering him into the awaiting bath. The boy hissed, but managed to comfortably settle after a few short moments, knees pulled to his chest and an irritated frown curling his lips. His eyes were dry now, despite his occasional sniffle, but Sebastian's sharp gaze still caught the small tremor running along his spine.
He retrieved a cloth before joining his master in the tepid water, sitting across from him with bubbling concern. His master had fallen silent, and for the first time since the formation of their unholy bond, Sebastian was unable to read his mood. He wanted to pull him close as he bathed him, but was unsure if it would make matters better or worse.
Now that the heat of the moment had worn off, leaving Ciel's mind more clear and able to fully unravel everything that had taken place between the first harsh jerk of his butler's hips and the first traces of dampness beneath his lashes, it was clear that the boy wasn't happy with him. He was sure of it by the way Ciel's jaw clenched and his arms crossed tight across his chest.
To Sebastian's relief, the mild scent of panic no longer clung to his master, but he was unable to determine if he would lash out should he try to hold him again. The thought kept him pinned in place, patiently waiting for the little mortal to give him some insight into the best course of action.
However, Ciel's anger at Sebastian was already beginning to diminish as he took in the worried pinch of his expression and the slight twitch of his longing fingers. He was aware that hurting him was not the man's intention, and that he himself was at fault for not bringing up the issue, but Sebastian was doing all that he could to remedy his discomfort now.
Taking pity on the conflicted demon, Ciel gave a tired hum and seized Sebastian's hand, lacing their fingers together as his eyes opened to meet the garnet pair opposite. Leaning his head against the lip of the tub, he spoke. "You can touch me. Just don't move me too quickly, I'm still sore."
"Very well," Sebastian said, carefully lifting Ciel onto his lap. Dampening the cloth he held, the demon raised it to his master's face, stroking dried tear trails from pink cheeks and easing the soreness budding behind the boy's temples. He had seen the young earl cry only twice throughout their days as a contracted pair, but he distinctly recalled the boy complaining of headaches after each occurance.
The devil's touches remained light as he washed sweat and saliva from his master's pliant form, kneading into his hips apologetically. They would bruise, he was certain of that, but it had never bothered the boy much in the past. All the same, he would be sure to treat the plum marks with the utmost care.
Ciel gave a sharp gasp when the cloth dipped beneath his hips, dragging along and between his soft cheeks ever so gently, washing away the remaining traces of dried blood and cum.
The devil's pleased hum suggested that his wound was not as serious as it had initially seemed.
"I know it stings, but it shall abate soon. There is no more blood," Sebastian comforted, setting aside the cloth once he deemed the boy sufficiently clean. The weight against him gradually began to grow heavier as Ciel's eyes fluttered, sleep beckoning him sweetly. When the water began to cool, Sebastian rose, his master clutched protectively to his chest.
He gathered a large, fluffy towel and with some reluctance on his part, and an exasperated sigh from his master, he lowered Ciel onto the cold tile, allowing him to stand as usual whilst he dried him. Dressing him in a simple nightgown-one of Sebastian's own shirts that he had demanded ownership of almost a year prior-Sebastian guided him back to his chambers.
The bed was remade with clean sheets before Ciel could bat an eye, and he did not hesitate to clamour into the thick, welcoming bedding the second a corner was pulled back for him. Sitting upright against his pillows, he watched Sebastian pull the heavy drapes shut, silently awaiting the man's return.
"I want tea."
"Chamomile, sir?" Sebastian questioned, returning to his bedside as he deftly redressed.
"No, you know I am not fond of chamomile," Ciel sniffed indignantly, more than aware of the small, amused smile curling the devil's lips.
"It will help you sleep."
"And I will have to taste it for the rest of the night. Bring me earl grey instead. Surely you know of a better way to help me sleep?"
"Of course, my lord. If you will pardon me for a moment then." A quick kiss to his crown and Sebastian was gone, still pulling his gloves on as he stepped through the threshold.
Ciel didn't have to wait long. A mere five minutes had passed when Sebastian returned, a blue hyacinth cup in his hands, and a certain warmth in his eyes. "Your tea, young master."
With a soft hum, he accepted the warm drink, catching notes of lavender and honey as he raised it to his lips. Rich and deep in flavour, sweet and floral but not overly so. Perfect. Just as it always was.
"Sebastian," he called quietly, gesturing to the empty bed beside him as he spoke. "Come here. Take off your coat."
Obliging without question, Sebastian easily toed off his shoes and draped his tailcoat over the arm of the wingback chair near the fireplace. His gloves were the next thing to be discarded; his master had not been pleased the last time he forgot to remove them before joining him. With a snap of his bare fingers, a small, crackling flame spread throughout the hearth, bathing the room in a pale glow as he slipped beneath the sheets.
The boy's now-empty teacup was set aside, and Sebastian aided him in rearranging his pillows before curling around him. With that warm, lithe body tucked comfortably against his own, he was unable to resist the urge to card his fingers through those gossamer locks. "Is there anything in particular that you wish for, my lord?"
"No," Ciel breathed, eyes falling shut as he yawned tiredly. "You said you had other ways of helping me fall asleep more quickly. Just choose one."
Narrow arms coiled around Sebastian's neck, thin legs locked around his waist, and as he breathed in the sweet musk of his master's scent-sleepy and serene-he gave a reverberating rumble. But he didn't stop there, his chest thrumming with the slow vibration of purrs. He could see his human's brows furrow a fraction, confused by the devil's strange relaxation tactic, but his consternation dispersed as quickly as it had formed.
His eyes were already heavy, drifting shut as he burrowed more comfortably against his demon's chest, deeper into his warm arms, further into the insistent pull of sleep. Sebastian began to speak, but it was unintelligible for both his sleep-hazed and the obvious language barrier.
Latin. Sebastian only spoke in his native tongue when he was crooning poems to him. Ciel could never understand them, they both knew that, and yet it soothed him all the same.
And he was falling. Falling deeper into darkness-into slumber and damnation-with every word. For with every word, he was lulled, comforted. Cared for. And with every word, he found his own fondness growing.
But that was alright. He wasn't afraid, nor was he alone in his descent. For it was darkness which ensconced him so tenderly.
"Stay with me until morning," Ciel murmured, voice fading into the faintest whisper as sleep finally claimed him.
And it was with a smile that the devil replied. "Ad infinitum."