A/N: Thank you all for your support! The replies are in the end of the chapter) I was so excited about Sebastian's POV that I've managed to complete the next chapter early. However, it ended up being around 20K, so I had to break it into two parts.
Warning for some creepiness here! Sebastian is... well. Sebastian.
Chapter Ten: Sebastian. Transitioning. Part 1
Ciel Phantomhive was the most confounding blend of contradictions that Sebastian had encountered in his devilishly long existence.
From the very first second he felt that unique, twisted soul, he was enthralled. The blinding light it emanated wasn't dulled by the bitter dark stains spreading across its surface, not in the slightest. How something so pure and innocent could have such dark edges, Sebastian didn't know, and he didn't particularly care.
The pureness formed the essence of this soul, making it into white canvas waiting to be filled with intricate, exquisite patterns. The shadowy stains that already darkened some of its bits spoke of pride, mercilessness, coldness, and rage, rage so profound that Sebastian couldn't believe it belonged to such a young soul. The darkest spot marked hatred and hostility, and the flavour of this peculiar combination was entirely maddening, making him salivate.
He thirsted for this soul. This soul was worthy of forming a contract, and by the time he was finished with it, it would be even more delicious — bitterer, sweeter, and spicier. The best meal he'd had so far.
The wish of his new Master was rather bland but Sebastian was willing to entertain it because for someone as young, seeking revenge was almost refreshing. He destroyed the vermin that must have fuelled the boy's rage right in front of him, showcasing his abilities and proving his worth, and when he put his mark on the boy's eye, he felt satisfaction well up in his chest.
This soul was his now. Now, it wouldn't be able to escape, and if it tried, he would follow.
"I have three additional requests," the boy declared, glaring at him defiantly, as if challenging him to object. Sebastian let his lips twist in an ironic smile. Didn't this strange creature know that now that the contract had been formed, all new conditions were void?
However, he was feeling generous today, after finding such a compelling meal, so he chose to humour the boy.
"Whatever you wish for, my lord," he murmured, grimacing internally at how insincere his words sounded. His Master's eyes narrowed suddenly and Sebastian almost frowned.
Could it be that… No. The boy couldn't have sensed the disingenuousness of his obedience. No human, especially a child, was capable of distinguishing between the lies and the truths when speaking to a demon, regardless of how unique their soul was.
"I want you to always protect me," his Master said solemnly, throwing a quick glance at the piles of crumpled corpses covering the floor. "Protect me and never betray me," he added quickly. "Not until I fulfil my revenge. My orders are absolute and you must obey me unconditionally. Also, I forbid you to ever lie to me. Understood?"
Unconditional obedience was something the boy had already demanded, back when they were forming a contract. Technically, Sebastian mused, it meant that all other orders would have to be followed immediately as well, so the boy's additional requirements weren't necessary. Still, as expected, he hadn't been very clear when expressing his wishes, so Sebastian could easily find a way around each of the demands apart from the revenge itself if needed.
But he would do anything to look like a perfect butler in the boy's eyes. He would earn his soul — as long as it remained worthy of being cultivated.
It would make this game much more interesting.
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When the plate with the lunch he had worked so hard on was thrown into his face, for a moment, Sebastian was too stunned to react. He stared at his Master, knowing that his face must look blank from the shock, and tried to process this new indignity.
The boy was refreshingly demanding and surprisingly vicious in his requests for perfection. At first, he had been reprimanding Sebastian for his failures; then, he began to throw the inadequate dishes on the floor, making Sebastian clean up. Throwing them into his face, though? That was new and Sebastian couldn't say it was pleasant.
"You skilfully imitated the appearance but it's just colouring," his Young Master stated coldly. "The flavour is insipid."
Feeling how the disgusting blend of food started to drip from his face, Sebastian had to take a second to corral a sudden desire to snap the boy's neck. Granted, it wouldn't be the first time he'd killed one of his Masters, but not in such circumstances. Furthermore, less than a week had passed since they formed their contract. He never cared about the position he held among other demons, yet breaking the contract so soon? Unacceptable.
"I apologise," Sebastian uttered, lowering his eyes in submission even though he knew the boy couldn't see him. "I'll bring a new one immediately."
He walked to the door but the boy's voice stopped him, and this time, it sounded even colder.
"I made a contract with you. If you're going to be a butler, perform your duties properly."
Anger was a feeling Sebastian had almost forgotten. His existence had been mundane and passionless for so long that even the slightest stirring of something other than hunger was a revelation.
He might be an imperfect demon among his own kind but among humans? Humans were so easy to impress. It never required any effort, and yet during the last four days, the disagreeable child he was serving had showered him with more insults than he had received in his whole life. Worse than the insults and constant humiliating tasks was genuine displeasure Sebastian could sense within him.
His Young Master wasn't simply being difficult, he was truly dissatisfied with his services. Apart from being unimpressed, he viewed Sebastian as something inferior, and the thought of it was enough to send weak, unexpectedly warm sparks of anger through him.
Interesting.
Sebastian went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and resumed cooking.
He would get this right. The irritating child was going to appreciate every meal Sebastian prepared and he would ask for extra servings. Sebastian would achieve this regardless of the cost, even if he had to waste another ton of human ingredients.
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"Wrong," Sebastian concluded, frowning at the scroll of paper his Master had passed to him. "Only three out of eight calculations are correct. You are abysmally inattentive and your handwriting leaves a lot to be desired. Is that number one or number seven?"
"One," the boy grumbled sourly.
"You'll have to redo five calculations and rewrite all that on a clean sheet. Now, hands open."
The boy stared at him in confusion.
"What do you mean, 'hands open'?" he asked, and Sebastian showed him the cane, smiling. His Master's eye widened.
"You are going to hit me?" he exclaimed incredulously. "But my parents never—" He fell silent without finishing his phrase, still staring at the cane in disbelief.
"I told you I'm a strict teacher," Sebastian remarked. "In your circumstances, Young Master, you have to learn twice as fast as you normally would. Imposing punishment for every mistake is an effective way to ensure that your attention does not waver."
The boy bit his lip nervously. Uncertainty and fear that so palpably seeped into his veins were intoxicating and Sebastian inhaled deeply, letting the bitter flavour spread through his lungs.
When his Master finally held out his hands, Sebastian was unable to stop a hungry grin from emerging. He raised the cane and struck, deliberately catching the slim fingers for the impact to be more profound. Gasping, the boy recoiled from him, pressing his injured hand to his chest and staring at him with such a betrayed look that the pleasure from it threatened to become overwhelming. Sebastian raised his eyebrow, waiting, watching how his Master's lower lip began to tremble.
Would he cry? The strike had been undoubtedly painful, especially for a fragile child like this. The unexpectedness of it also had to play its role, stirring emotions that the boy didn't want to display.
What would he do if Sebastian asked him to hold his hands open again?
He could always check.
"One more strike," Sebastian drawled, drinking in the flare of shock and fury in the boy's eye.
'Cry,' he urged him silently as a thin thread of darkness separated from him, striving to reach the boy and absorb every painful emotion he was experiencing.
How would his tears taste?
"Fine," his Master said suddenly, and Sebastian blinked, taken aback.
He hadn't expected him to agree, certainly not after the reaction he'd gotten. But the boy was holding his hands open again, glaring, so Sebastian raised the cane and inflicted another strike, this time missing the fingers.
The boy said nothing. He pulled out a clean sheet of paper and began to write again, very neatly, even though his hands were shaking.
Sebastian couldn't take his eyes off him for the rest of the lesson, surprised and reluctantly impressed.
The boy was stubborn. He was obviously holding himself to the same high standards he required from Sebastian, which was more than could be said about all his previous Masters.
Yes, this soul was indeed worthy of his attention.
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"Sebastian? Hands open."
Another almost forgotten, vaguely familiar sensation shooting up in his chest. Astonishment. Genuine and absolutely unexpected, stronger than any feeling of surprise he'd experienced so far.
Sebastian stepped to the table, holding out his hands obediently, still doubtful that the boy would do this, and the next moment, scorching hot liquid covered his fingers, boiling his skin and sending weak moans of pain through his body.
"This isn't tea," his Master said darkly, scowling at him. "This is coloured water. Start over."
"Yes, my lord," Sebastian bowed slightly, retreating to the kitchen. The darkness in him hissed angrily — he could see a shadowy glimpse of his wings that tried to bleed through his human form, demanding retribution. Being punished by a child, in such a humiliating way… Sebastian would prefer getting stabbed or shot to this.
Despite his outrage, though, he only chuckled and waved the darkness away. How unpredictable and deliciously malicious his Master could be...
Sebastian closed his eyes, imagining how a soul of such a unique being would taste.
For some reason, he felt positively sure that the second cup of tea was going to be thrown at him again even if he did manage to prepare something to his Master's liking.
Two strikes with the cane, two instances of scorching.
His Master was vindictive, no doubts about that.
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"Stay with me," the child blurted, wide-eyed and scared, shaking from the aftermath of his dreams, and Sebastian struggled to stop his lips from curling downwards.
Nightmares. How boring. The nights were supposed to be the time when he could rest from the unending demands and stop pretending to be a human, but his little Master seemed set on possessing even this part of his schedule.
He murmured the words of agreement, took the candelabra, and approached the window. The boy sent him a sad glance and Sebastian sensed how something flickered in his soul, a strong and undecipherable longing for something. It was so potent that Sebastian tilted his head curiously, waiting for an order of some kind, but all the boy did was bury himself under the blanket and close his eyes.
Humans were immensely fascinating but understanding them had never been a problem. Until now.
What was the boy thinking? A failure to understand his own Master equalled a failure to perform his duties adequately, and this other example of his imperfection annoyed Sebastian more than he was willing to admit.
Better to put the entire issue to rest swiftly. If he came up with a solution to stop his Master's nightmares from occurring, he could have his nights back, without having to play a concerned servant who had to check whether everything was fine every time the boy awoke.
All he had to do was learn what having nightmares meant.
The next morning, Sebastian stayed by his Master's side unwaveringly, leaving only to prepare, serve, and remake the meals. According to the facts he'd gathered, nightmares were caused by irrational fears and insecurity, so if he remained close to his Master during the day, offering silent protection, his nights would be undisturbed.
There was only one flaw in this plan, and it was the child himself.
"Stop following me around like a dog," he growled, and Sebastian frowned, not sure why his efforts were being disregarded once again.
"I only wish for my Master to feel safe," he said as gently as he could, and the child gasped in outrage.
"I don't need you to stalk me for that! If the intruders come, you will deal with them as always. Other than that, only come when I call for you. I don't want to have to see you more than that — and stop standing so close! You're suffocating me!"
Frustration was another new feeling that was quickly becoming familiar to him. Sebastian bowed, curious at the small flares of indignation that kept heating his blood, and left to start preparing the lunch.
Maybe the boy enjoyed having nightmares and did not wish to recover from them. It was preferable to the idea that Sebastian had misunderstood something again.
This time, in a hundredth attempt to prepare an edible meal for his Master, Sebastian brought a book with recipes to the kitchen. He'd found it in the vast library of the manor and while the majority of the recipes looked peculiar at best, there was one that attracted his attention. It was underlined with red ink, accompanied by the words "Ciel's favourite".
If he managed to cook at least one good meal, he would be able to figure out the boy's preferences and adjust to them accordingly. This hateful process would certainly become more tolerable after that.
Sebastian ignored his own ideas and beliefs entirely this time, following the underlined recipe word by word. Half of the ingredients seemed immiscible to him but he still added them, half-expecting everything to blow up in his face.
Strangely, no such thing happened. When Sebastian served the meal to his Master, he was rewarded with a suspicious glance. The boy tasted his lunch, chewed, swallowed, and then stared at Sebastian, the disbelief written plainly on his face.
"This is actually eatable!" he exclaimed, and a foreign, tickling warmth bloomed in Sebastian's chest.
Pleasure.
He'd never had to work hard to achieve success before. Who would have thought that after all those struggles, the victory would taste so sweet?
"I'm pleased that it satisfies you, Master," Sebastian said, for the first time feeling nothing but sincerity.
Cooking had been the most difficult part of his tasks, and now that he had a specific recipe as a basis, it was bound to get far more engaging.
His Master would ask for the extra serving. Very soon.
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The child began to smile at him. At first, Sebastian believed it to be a reaction to their mutual progress — they both had improved significantly in execution of their duties, but the more time passed, the more grating those smiles became.
His Master was losing the edge that kept Sebastian fascinated. The kaleidoscope of new, unexplored feelings that he found refreshing was rapidly fading, replaced by more than familiar sensations of boredom and revulsion.
He had been mistaken in his evaluation of the boy's soul. He might have appeared merciless and intriguing at first, and he had been delightfully suspicious and demanding of him for a while, but now, apparently, he began to get used to his company, and this softened him to an intolerable extent.
The sharpness was gone from his voice when he was issuing orders. He began to reach out for Sebastian like a small, affection-starved puppy, and the more he sought out his presence, the harder Sebastian tried to avoid him.
It was sickening to see what his almost perfect soul had turned into. He should have thought twice before forming a contract: the minds of children were undergoing constant changes, so what he bargained for one day could transform drastically tomorrow.
One thing was clear — this child wasn't worthy of all the efforts Sebastian had invested into serving him. A few more months and he would forget about his revenge, which would give Sebastian a perfect opportunity to devour him. This soul would be a mere quick snack instead of a flavourful meal he had been looking forward to, but it was just as well. He could always search for a new, worthier Master.
He got his excuse sooner than he'd expected. The letter from the Queen herself had arrived, inviting the boy for a ceremony, and standing at the back of the room, watching him being officially recognised as an Earl, Sebastian felt peaceful. Their contract was coming to an end, he could already sense it. Today or tomorrow, it was going to happen — his Master was going to slip up.
The boy chose this exact moment to turn and seek Sebastian out with his eye, as if to make sure that he was watching, and a pleasant anticipation began to buzz in Sebastian's veins softly.
Today, then.
He smiled at the boy, gently and affectionately, and received a beaming look in response.
What a weak-willed, malleable little human.
"The status, the fortune, the beautiful fiancée — they are all yours now," Sebastian was saying, keeping his eyes downcast to hide a hungry glow that he knew was burning in them. "So how about it? Would you throw away such foolishness as revenge and live on in happiness like this?"
"That doesn't sound bad," the boy agreed, and it was all Sebastian needed. Parting his lips in a snarl, he reached for his Master, uncaring that his body started losing its human appearance, emanating the first curls of darkness.
His claws almost pierced the boy's nape, his body thrumming in ravenous anticipation, when a harsh word broke through his haze.
"But!"
The boy turned to face him at this very second and Sebastian had barely managed to retract his hand.
"I didn't return to attain happiness," he said, his voice brimming with a quiet, fierce determination. "I came back to fight."
What?
Sebastian stared at him, dumbstruck, as more and more unfamiliar feelings flooded him, stronger than anything he'd experienced in centuries.
"There is no other way to go but forward," the boy added darkly. "I swear on this damned name of mine that I will attain my revenge!"
Sebastian knew he must have made some noise, but for the hell of him, he couldn't remember what it was. Something shifted in his chest, twisting the very core of him, unchaining it and centring it on the boy who stood in front of him, the boy whose soul was lit with a grim, blinding glow of darkness.
Beautiful. Unrelenting. Noble.
He was mistaken. Whatever weakness the boy had shown, it was only an echo of who he truly was — an echo that could be squashed easily.
This was indeed the soul he'd entered the contract with. This boy was indeed his Master.
For the first time in his existence, Sebastian dropped to his knee willingly, not because he had to dress or bathe the boy, but because he was acknowledging the respect he induced. He had never knelt before any of his previous Masters, not unless ordered to, but here, now, he felt almost powerless in the face of these new, astonishing feelings.
"Yes, my lord," he said, not having to fake the reverence in his voice. The boy held out his hand and Sebastian accepted it readily, clenching it in his. "I will definitely deliver you the crown of victory," he promised before brushing his lips against the small, gloved hand, breathing in the scent of the heated skin that no fabric could hide.
Yes, he would obtain that crown for his Master. He would treat his wish with utmost seriousness and he would be the most perfect butler any human could dream of.
He would cultivate this soul, and when the time came, he would absorb it piece by the twitching piece, revelling in the despair and horror that would inevitably follow the boy as he realised that everything was over.
It would be well worth the wait indeed.
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The boy was far more perceptive than Sebastian had believed. It was difficult to say how he'd managed to figure everything out during their trip home, but he had — and he demanded answers.
Initially, Sebastian thought it would be amusing to watch how his Master reacted to the truth. For this reason, he easily confessed his intention to trick and devour him today, wondering if the delectable look of betrayal he'd seen on the boy's face when he first hit him during their lessons would return.
It did, but the reaction that came afterwards was the last thing Sebastian had expected.
In retrospect, he should have been vaguer in his response.
He was so busy with dinner preparations that he'd missed how the boy left the house. When the seal on his hand suddenly burned, Sebastian felt his eyes widen in disbelief. Then he dashed to where the boy was, trying to understand how he could have possibly missed the intruders but failing.
He would have sensed someone approaching. No, whatever danger his Master was in, it had to be accidental or self-inflicted.
Sebastian managed to get to the cliff just on time to catch the falling boy. Pressing him hard against his chest, he jerked back up and delivered him on the top, staring at him like at the surprising, impossible creature he was.
"Why on earth would you do something like that?" he asked. He truly didn't understand. Just today, the boy had declared his intention to see his revenge through, and now he was trying to kill himself?
"I was checking whether you are worthy of consuming my soul," his Master told him, and a hot wave of shock ran through Sebastian's body, rendering him speechless.
The boy had flung himself off the cliff to check whether he would manage to save him? What insanity was that?
No matter how hard he tried, Sebastian couldn't understand the motivation for such irrational decision. Had his Master begun to doubt his power? But there were safer ways to test his abilities, ones that didn't involve a risk for his life.
Intrigued, he leaned closer, wondering if the scent of the boy's emotions could give him a hint. However, before he could try to sort through them, a small hand collided with his cheek with a surprising strength.
It wasn't particularly painful but it did send his body into stupor. Sebastian stared, all his senses shutting down for a while to process this incomprehensible action.
He listened to the boy's cold, vehement words, and each of them fluttered somewhere in his chest, causing a warm, quivering sensation to rise within it. By the time the boy finished, Sebastian felt drunk on emotions his own body was producing, all new and exciting, born out of genuine shock. It wasn't easy to take him aback yet his Master managed to do that over and over again. And his soul, mouth-wateringly flavourful, smelled even better now, its colour darkening to a misty white, thick and difficult to see through.
His fascination, rekindled after today, flared stronger, brighter, turning into thirst so intense that it crossed the threshold of interest, gaining the form of obsession.
This was the first night that Sebastian spent in the anticipation of the morning, eager to be close to his Master again so that he could marvel at the renewed, incredible fragrance of his soul.
To his unpleasant surprise, in the morning, his Master wanted nothing to do with him.
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In the course of the next week, Sebastian was forced to acknowledge that the dynamic between him and his Young Master had changed. The boy was cold, collected, and distant, refusing to even look at him without a need. Gone were the smiles and softer looks: now Sebastian's company was palpably unwanted. And ironically, the more the boy pulled away, the stronger Sebastian's urge to follow him was.
Who would have thought that he would start craving the impressed look on his Master's face? So far, the boy had looked genuinely impressed only once, when Sebastian had restored the manor. If he had known how rare this look was back then, he would have treasured it. Now, it seemed, he was stuck with reserved, half-hearted expressions of approval at best and open contempt and avoidance at the majority of times. On the one hand, it was certainly preferable to the insults thrown at him during that first month, but it was also significantly less than he'd had a week ago.
Normally, Sebastian didn't care about the attitudes of his Masters to him. Despite the possibility of soaking in their bitter emotions and staying sated to a degree, he preferred to keep his distance. The child, though… the child was different. Perhaps due to the fact that he constantly challenged Sebastian's perception of him, blowing cold, warm, and now cold again, mixing all his notions and managing to surprise him time and time again.
Sebastian liked being surprised. Making him unable to predict what to expect was the biggest gift that any living being could bestow on him, so while several days ago, the boy's growing clinginess repulsed him, now Sebastian wished to be in his presence himself.
"Today for dessert, I have prepared a double-chocolate sponge cake with strawberry sauce and hazelnut truffles," he uttered, presenting a plate with a large piece to his Master. The boy had an alarming appetite for sweets that Sebastian had to regulate, but at the moment, he was willing to allow him a particularly generous serving.
He waited patiently until his Master looked away from the thick book he was reading and glanced at the dessert offered to him. No emotion touched his face, though — he simply focused on the book again, throwing a curt, "Dismissed."
Two feelings that were becoming rapidly familiar, frustration and disappointment, sent a rush of dark sweetness through Sebastian, and he bowed before retreating, marvelling at the strange mix of dejection, thirst, and curiosity that seemed to settle somewhere in his chest.
Interesting. After all the time spent with this boy, he was growing quite a collection of feelings and emotions that had never graced him with their presence before.
His tendency to become obsessed with the strangest things had alienated him from many demons, but Sebastian had never regretted the impulses that led him. Right now, he truly wanted to be a perfect butler for the boy. He learned his Master's gastronomic tastes perfectly and could experiment with the recipes now, devising more and more complex dishes. However, when it came to emotions… Sebastian had already met three versions of the boy. One was suspicious, meticulous, and cold; another one was semi-open and almost friendly, and the last one was vicious, vindictive, and distant. Forming one clear picture was impossible at this point, and it equally frustrated and captivated him.
Perhaps a riding lesson would please him, Sebastian mused. Despite the iciness the boy was emanating lately, one thing remained unchangeable — his delight at being praised. He was demonstrating a remarkable progress during riding lessons, so it was Sebastian's best bet.
He wondered if with a little pressure, a fourth version of his Master would appear, with a new set of contradictory characteristics.
He couldn't wait to find out.
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"I could solve this case for you," Sebastian offered indulgently, studying the boy's pale face. "All you have to do is give me an order. You won't have to question anyone in the underworld and you'll be able to report to the Queen today."
The boy gasped, probably in relief, and Sebastian's lips stretched in a small, condescending smirk.
He hadn't missed his Master's wariness and anxiety as he received the Queen's letter. Sebastian had learned everything he could about the Phantomhives, but despite the boy's family's reputation, he himself was a child. An atypical and complex child, but a child still. He wasn't capable of running around London solving crimes, and despite his attempts to pretend he understood anything in the dealings of the underworld, Sebastian knew it was a lie.
The boy needed his help but Sebastian wasn't willing to assist him until he admitted his helplessness himself. This was more amusing.
"Who do you take me for?" his Master snarled at him suddenly, and Sebastian frowned, puzzled.
The gasp hadn't been caused by relief, then. It seemed he had miscalculated again.
"My lord…"
"I asked you to sort through the letters so that I could know who cooperated with my predecessor and who were likely to cooperate with me. I don't need you to solve anything for me! I can do that myself. I will require your assistance only in technical matters, where thinking isn't needed. You're a pawn, nothing more! Don't delude yourself!"
He was the one deluding himself?
Annoyed, Sebastian passed the letters he'd picked to the boy, smiling cordially to mask his scorn.
He would enjoy seeing him fail.
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Sebastian had served more Masters than he could recall. Thousands of faces had already faded from his memory; hundreds remained blurred, and only some of them still lived in his memory.
Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian thought, would belong to the last category.
Technically, all demons could consume souls without necessarily forming a contract. However, unless they were young, such activities were frowned upon. It attracted the attention of the Shinigami and could damage the status of the demon. Sebastian had never been fond of the official rules and laws, but his position in the hierarchy was too high for him to disregard them entirely. So he formed contracts, usually short-term ones, choosing the blandest of souls with the simplest of wishes. Sating his hunger had been his sole goal for centuries and when he finally decided to change his habits, it turned out that finding unique souls that were willing to bargain with a demon was a daunting task.
Those he did find managed to hold his interest for a few months at most, and even they chose to transfer all their responsibilities to him. Ciel Phantomhive was the first who was ready to fight, risk, and bleed for the sake of his reputation — the reputation he intended to build himself, relying on Sebastian only when he absolutely had to.
Incredulous, Sebastian watched how his Master crept out of the house, clearly trying to remain unnoticed by him. Unable to imagine what he could be thinking, Sebastian followed quietly as his surprise and fascination shone brighter, filling his blood with a pleasant rush of something he couldn't yet define.
He wanted to catch the boy, pull him close, curl around him and crush him, until every thought he had left his mind, baring themselves to Sebastian.
He needed to know them. He craved them.
When the boy stopped at the café where their murderer was working, Sebastian realised what was happening. When he saw the said murderer slide towards the oblivious boy, another new feeling joined his growing collection.
Uncertainty.
Based on the contract, he had to protect the boy – however, unless the boy was under the direct threat of dying, he didn't necessarily have to interfere. Not to mention that it was the boy's idea to escape without warning him, staying quiet so Sebastian wouldn't be able to stop him.
What should he do? Warn the boy? Eliminate the attacker? Wait?
Too many possibilities. Some more intriguing than the others.
His seal began to throb, but Sebastian didn't react. Dispassionately, he watched how his Master was knocked unconscious by the woman, tied, and gagged. Several men entered the kitchen and one of them grabbed the boy before carrying him into the basement.
Waiting it was, then.
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"But she started to view a potential business as a playfield and got lost in her foolish ambitions. Pathetic." Contempt in the voice of his Master was so biting that Sebastian almost purred with pleasure. His coldness was always alluring, but when it was aimed at someone other than him? It was positively irresistible.
From his spot on the roof, Sebastian couldn't see anything, but he heard every word, and each of them brought a tiny stab of admiration with it.
His Master hadn't called for him even when he regained his consciousness and removed his gag. He assessed the situation quickly and began to interrogate other prisoners, cool and calm, as if he wasn't in danger — or in pain, for that matter. Even from here, Sebastian could sense the blood from the cut on the boy's head, with its strong, intoxicating flavour. He would have gladly used the opportunity to taste it when the boy was unconscious if he hadn't had company. As it was, all Sebastian could do was breathe it in, imagining its taste.
He startled out of his fantasies only when the boy and others were joined by the murderer herself. When the boy finally tried to call for him, Sebastian pretended that he hadn't heard. No direct order was given and despite the admiration that was still burning in his veins, he was equally irked at the boy's stubbornness and his refusal to ask him to accompany him in the first place.
Ciel Phantomhive was smarter than Sebastian had believed initially, he was willing to admit it, but physically, he was more helpless than a kitten Sebastian had taken to feeding every morning.
Maybe he would be less reckless in the future.
However, when the boy, chained to the prisoners of a social standing so low, they should have never even spoken to him, never mind received the right to die by his side, was thrown into Thames, the first stirrings of anger broke Sebastian's sadistic resolve.
This soul belonged to him. No one but him was allowed to treat it carelessly.
Sebastian left the roof and flung himself into the river, feeling how his human shape started melting into demonic one. His Master was on the brink of passing out again when Sebastian tore him from the chains and carried him to the surface, grimacing at how damaged his lungs already felt.
He was right. They boy's body was laughably weak, failing at the slightest strain.
"Sebastian," his Master choked, shivering so violently as if he'd been submerged into ice, not in the late spring water.
Sebastian fully expected to be ordered to save the thieves — he could sense the boy's conflict, his regret and compassion towards those pathetic worms. When his Master demanded that he secure the evidence instead, Sebastian couldn't fight off a grin.
How promising his little soul was. While the notion of compassion was ludicrous, it felt like a pleasing part of the boy, creating a delicious contrast between his uncertain darkness and prominent goodness. Even Sebastian found it difficult to predict which of these parts would prevail eventually but it would be interesting to toy with both of them, influencing them until the boy became the most perfect version of what he could be.
But first, he had to fulfil his duties.
Sebastian stepped towards the killers who seemed to have frozen at the sight of him and let his lips stretch into an even wider smile. The humanity bled out of him entirely, replaced by impenetrable darkness and longing for destruction, and he succumbed to them readily, thrumming with vicious energy and life.
He knocked out the woman, the leader of this dubious gang, first, hitting her in the same exact spot his Master had been hit. When she collapsed, he focused on the men, his main prey — the prey he was allowed to kill, hissing in delight when two of them tried to flee.
The screams were music to his ears. The blood he absorbed was an essence that sated his hunger for a while, but when the last of the men fell and Sebastian turned back to his Master, this hunger flared anew.
The boy smelled intoxicating. Half-dead and exhausted, he looked fragile and defenceless, and Sebastian reached for him before he could stop himself, his claws lengthening further. The small wound on the boy's head was still bleeding and the scent of it was stronger than that of the bodies of the murdered men combined.
The hunger overcame him. Sebastian growled, inhaling the maddening scent greedily, and clenched the boy's coat, ready to jerk him closer and suck the soul right out of him, contract and rules be damned. However, as he leaned closer, something drew his attention, dispersing the ravenous fog in his mind.
His feather was clenched in the boy's hand, so tightly, as if it was his most precious possession. Sebastian stilled, staring at him, and slowly, the shards of darkness began to leave his body, replaced with deeper, unfamiliar sensations.
He wasn't sure what to think of it. Had his Master grabbed it by accident, as his consciousness was fading? But the way he was holding it… no, he must have picked it up deliberately. Why? Whatever attachment he'd started to feel for Sebastian, it was shattered to nothing after the incident at the palace.
Two weeks ago, when Sebastian still believed in his own wrong assumptions about the boy, this sight would have only sickened him. Now… now he wasn't sure what he was feeling.
Hesitating, Sebastian shook his head to clear it from the remains of the hunger. Another first for him — he'd never lost control like this. He'd never been genuinely overcome by thirst for his Masters before, not to this point.
Carefully, gently, Sebastian lifted the boy into his arms, watching his face rapturously.
He would complete the task assigned to him later. Right now, he had to deliver his Master to safety.
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The boy developed a fever. Thankfully, Tanaka, a strange and usually silent old man, had returned from the hospital recently, so he supplied Sebastian with everything he needed to help his Master combat his illness.
Upon careful consideration, Sebastian decided not to remove the feather from the boy's hand. He was curious what he would do as he woke up. However, when the boy did awaken and stubbornly kept the feather close, even glaring at Sebastian like he was going to take it away, his initial astonishment and incomprehension returned with doubled force.
What could the boy want with his feather? It didn't hold any power. Was it truly a sign of attachment? But it didn't make sense, not after everything that transpired and especially not when Sebastian himself was guarding his bed, ready to execute every order given to him.
"Go away," the boy demanded, still delirious from fever, clutching the feather even tighter.
He had to go away? Had he been replaced by his own feather?
Deeply confused, Sebastian bowed his head and left the room, only to return five seconds later. The boy was already sleeping, hugging the feather to his chest.
A vague sense of displeasure hissed somewhere at the back of his mind. Sebastian frowned, trying to shake it off, but the hissing got louder, growing into a growl of annoyance the source of which he couldn't understand.
Well, if the boy preferred a feather to his company, Sebastian didn't mind. He had other matters that required his attention.
His annoyance lasted longer than he himself had expected. When the time to check on the boy came, Sebastian asked Tanaka to do that, and a minute later, his Master's piercing screams tore through the silence.
"Sebastian! Sebastian!"
Surprise quickly morphed into glee. Sebastian stepped into the room and took a moment to drink in the view of the boy thrashing in his bed, his face twisted in delectable agony, before reaching for him and touching his forehead gently. Instantly, the tension left his Master and he relaxed, leaning into his touch.
A shadow of sadness flickered across Tanaka's face, but he only bowed to Sebastian, acknowledging his superiority in the rights they had on the boy. Sebastian nodded at him in response, barely hiding his satisfied grin, and then focused on his Master.
As soon as the door closed, he abandoned the attempt to hold onto his human appearance. Inhaling the mixed, fevered emotions coming from the boy, Sebastian leaned over him, knowing he was awake but too dazed to remember it later.
He wasn't certain what he intended. Perhaps to frighten the child further, to show him whose presence he had just chosen over that of a genuinely caring servant, whose feather he was holding in his hands as if it was some protective charm.
The boy saw it all — the silhouette of his true form, the red-eyed glare, the snarl, but impossibly, he only smiled in relief, like he found this sight comforting instead of disturbing.
Sebastian felt how his eyes widened in disbelief, and widened further when the boy fell asleep, still smiling peacefully. The only feeling he could sense from him now was tranquillity, tranquillity that shouldn't have existed at all in these circumstances.
Entranced, Sebastian knelt before the bed and removed his gloves, tracing his black claw along the slim throat slick with sweat. He could feel the faint tremor of the pulse there, the testimony of life hidden in this small body, and it was difficult not to think of how easy it would be to end it. A little pressure, and his nail would break the thin layer of skin, causing the boy's body to bleed out and making him choke to death. Or he could move his nail up, stopping at the eye where his seal was placed, and drive it through the translucent eyelid, digging into the boy's brain, where all those unfathomable thoughts were stored.
With difficulty, Sebastian forced himself to remove his hand, though his eyes stayed glued to his Master's face.
He wanted to crawl into this boy and devour him from inside, until everything that made him who he was belonged to Sebastian. He wanted to learn every thought of his, understand everything that motivated him. Did he wish to avenge his parents or himself? Did he even understand what giving away his soul meant?
With a sigh, Sebastian regained his human shape and reluctantly stepped away from the bed.
His Master was likely to want a dessert when he woke up.
It was time to test a new recipe.
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In the months that followed, his Master had become quite skilled at solving crimes with minimal assistance. However, his tendency to get into troubles wasn't diminishing at all, and while it undeniably made Sebastian's life interesting, it was also extremely bothersome. The boy managed to endanger himself even when he was simply standing on the street, which spoke of his appalling inattentiveness and which meant that Sebastian often had to try to be in several places at once.
They had just eliminated a murderer who was obsessed with blonde-haired women and Sebastian was destroying all evidence of the body's existence when his seal began to twitch. Tensing, he crushed the remaining leg to dust and dashed outside, where his Master was located.
The problem became immediately apparent. The boy was standing at the streetlamp, gazing somewhere vacantly, while a huge, badly dressed man was creeping in his direction with an arrogant, predatory smirk on his face.
Sebastian watched this picture, considering his options. Based on the smell he could detect from this stinking creature, he was interested in things that would inevitably send his Master into a deep pit of nightmares. At the same time, the boy was annoyingly reckless with his own safety and deserved to be taught a lesson. Even if he called him on time, Sebastian could still wait for about twenty seconds. It would be enough to terrify his Master, to tear into the already raw wound left by his past and make it bleed profusely. Maybe next time, he would be more alert to his surroundings.
There was also the fact that being caught by this man would make his Master scream for him, and what a beautiful sound that was. It was the only time when Sebastian enjoyed hearing his hateful name.
The boy let out a sigh and hugged himself in a clear attempt to get warm, and the man slowed, preparing for an attack. One of his hands reached for a button on his pants, pulling it loose, and just like that, Sebastian's amusement vanished.
He reached the man before he could make the final step towards the boy, snapping his neck and whisking him away. Throwing the body on the ground, Sebastian stared at it for a while, trying to understand why he'd done it.
In the end, he had to admit that he wasn't sure. One moment, he was gleefully anticipating the splash of suffering and horror in his Master, and the next, the thought of this dirty creature laying hands on him became intolerable.
Sebastian couldn't recall the last time he had to question himself so often. The boy steadily continued to bring out the strangest impulses in him.
The air around him darkened suddenly, whispering a warning, and Sebastian snapped his head up.
No sounds could be heard, only the silence of the night. But something was lingering here, something that only demonic intuition could sense.
He was being watched.
Sebastian waited, wondering if whomever was watching him would reveal themselves, but as nothing happened, he shrugged.
He wasn't worried in the slightest. All mysteries had a tendency to unravel sooner or later.
This time, when he returned to the boy, he let his presence be seen.
"I'm done, Master," he announced, and was treated to a beautiful scowl.
"Too long," the boy muttered and held his hands up. Sebastian smiled at him, picking him up obediently and shielding him from the wind.
"Where to now?" he wondered.
"Why do you always ask such stupid questions?" His Master's voice was sharp but at the same time, he wrapped his hands around Sebastian's neck, leaning his head against his shoulder and snuggling closer. "Home," he added sleepily.
'Maybe that's the secret,' Sebastian thought. His Master was inattentive because of his constant sleepiness, which in turn was caused by his nightmares.
Sebastian had to try and find the way of dealing with them. He was one hell of a butler, after all.
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To his chagrin, he failed to find a solution. The boy's nightmares persisted and all Sebastian could think of doing was come into his room to wake him, announcing that he was safe.
When the letter from Madam Red arrived, urging him to organise a celebration of the boy's birthday, Sebastian decided that it could be a useful idea. The boy forbade him to even speak of this day, but surely it would help to distract him? Constant reliving of his past and the blood-filled cases he was being sent on by the Queen were hardly beneficial for his already traumatised mind, and while Sebastian appreciated how the anguish intensified the flavour of his Master's soul, as a butler, he knew he had to attempt to create a balance of a sort.
He had to be perfect for his Master. It was the least he could do in exchange for such a unique, complex soul.
He'd begun his preparations early, devising a menu that would consist only of his Master's favourite dishes. Then he sent out the invitation letters and planted a new set of white roses in the greenhouse, adding a self-made fertiliser that was supposed to speed up the process of growth considerably.
Sebastian was fairly confident of his plan until the day of the celebration. The moment he saw his Master's grim, unhappy face, he realised he'd made a mistake. A bad one.
"Sebastian," the boy sounded worryingly lifeless. "What have you done?"
"Madam Red has written me a letter, insisting that I organise a celebration event today," he replied carefully. "After careful consideration, I decided that it is my responsibility as a butler to ensure that you enjoy your birthday…"
The boy listened calmly, measuring him with a cold, steady gaze. Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Sebastian tried to describe the menu he'd prepared, hoping that it would soften the boy's mood, but before he could finish, a hoarse "shut up" interrupted him.
He fell silent, looking at his Master and feeling a strange, unpleasant knot in his chest. This knot acquired thorns as the boy tore into him verbally, with all viciousness Sebastian knew he possessed, throwing moronic, half-witted, and incompetent at him, almost shaking with fury.
"May I remind you that it is your aunt who suggested the idea of celebration?" Sebastian tried to speak calmly despite the pressure in his chest, but when the boy replied, "She doesn't know me. You were supposed to," the hellish knot suddenly increased in size, squashing his organs mercilessly.
'I do know you,' he thought darkly. 'You're mine.'
But the boy was right, wasn't he? He'd overstepped the boundaries of a butler. More than that, he'd betrayed the trust of his Master. Who but Sebastian knew how much the boy hated social gatherings? And now that he had elaborated on his position, Sebastian was annoyed with himself for having failed to consider it. How foolish was it to believe that the boy would enjoy to be reminded of this particular anniversary?
"Get everything ready for their arrival," the boy ordered him bitterly. "I don't want to see you until then."
Another irritating pang of emotions he didn't understand. Was that guilt, he wondered? He'd certainly never experienced something like this before. And if it was, why would he feel it? He might have made a mistake but he'd made plenty of them during the eleven months of his service, especially at first. Why did such reaction appear now?
Nodding wordlessly, Sebastian left the room and moved to the kitchen, but when he heard a loud bang and the boy's painful gasp, he rushed back, hovering near the door.
No more sounds could be heard but his seal didn't burn, meaning that his Master was fine. Still, Sebastian found himself unable to move away, listening to the silence and wondering what he could do to chase away the unpleasant feeling that only continued to grow in him.
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With every passing minute of the celebratory dinner, Sebastian was getting acquainted with a sense of mortification. The louder Madam Red laughed, the more nonsensical stories about the Phantomhives Alexis Midford told, the more questions Lady Elisabeth fired and the more criticism Francis Midford unleashed, the darker his Master's face became, until it looked like he was about to be violently sick. Even Sebastian considered this gathering ghastly, so for his Master, it had to feel twice as dreadful.
This was a brilliant way to torment the boy while pretending to have his best interests at heart and normally, Sebastian would have enjoyed knowing that his plan had worked so well. But the most infuriating thing was, he hadn't planned this. He genuinely wanted to let his Master celebrate his birthday, and if there was something Sebastian hated, it was miscalculating.
Seeing the boy limp was surprisingly off-putting, another thing that was quite atypical of him. Usually, Sebastian enjoyed any display of pain he could derive from his Master, but this time, he found it distasteful. Distasteful to the point where he was consumed by the need to make him sit and examine his foot, but the celebration was still ongoing and he still had a role to play.
When everyone finally left, Sebastian attempted to persuade the boy to let him take a look, only to be swiftly dismissed.
Banished behind the door, he stared at its surface, curiously listening to the emotions that were surging through him and trying to identify them.
Ah. Rejection. He hadn't thought it would have such a tangy flavour. He'd already faced rejection from the boy after their visit to the palace, back during the first months of their contract, and while it felt vaguely unsettling, it was nothing in comparison to the fascinating mix of feelings and sensations that overflowed him now.
After thorough contemplation, Sebastian decided that he disliked feeling like this. His craving to be close to the boy when he was angry with him was fierce and unyielding, igniting hunger so maddening, it demanded that he barge into this room and grab the boy, crushing his forgiveness out of him by force.
Rubbing his chest in attempt to alleviate this urge, Sebastian left, reviewing the options he had.
Acting forcefully went against their contract, not to mention that it was such a crude way of achieving his goals that Sebastian had always despised it, another reason why many of his fellow demons, even those of an equal rank, scoffed at him. Furthermore, even if he did betray his own rules, the forceful approach would never work on his Master. He had to devise something more intricate, more cunning.
Doubling his attempts to be flawless seemed like a promising choice. His Master did appreciate perfection.
In the morning, Sebastian poured even more efforts into fulfilling his duties than he normally did. He brought the tea and the newspaper as soon as the boy began to stir in his bed, bowing respectfully and keeping his voice deferential even when he received no answer.
After the boy finished his tea, Sebastian readily bent on one knee, beginning their dressing ritual. He made sure that his touches were gentle, especially when he touched his Master's hurt foot, brushing against the delicate calf lightly. Then he started slipping the dark blue buttons of his jacket into the buttonholes, slowly and just as gently, admiring how beautiful the garments he'd selected for today looked on the boy.
When he finished, though, he was treated to the same cold expression he'd seen yesterday. There was no even minimal softening of the boy's features, and while a part of Sebastian felt dejected, another one rejoiced in the sudden flare of delight.
His Master was the most peculiar creature he had ever met.
"Leave," the boy snapped, pinning him down with an annoyed look. "I don't want to see you unless I call for you."
"As you wish," Sebastian agreed. "However, I need to know your choices for today's breakfast. I have prepared three kinds of tarts that—"
"I don't want any," his Master interrupted him, and against his will, Sebastian's eyebrows rose.
"You don't want a dessert?" he asked incredulously and immediately earned a blue-eyed glare.
"Are you planning to make me repeat myself? Haven't you annoyed me enough?"
There was nothing Sebastian could do other than bow and leave, strangely upset at having his cooking rejected as well.
Maybe tarts were a bad choice. Too simple for someone with such refined tastes as his Master.
He would have to prepare something spectacular for the afternoon.
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To Sebastian's dismay, the afternoon dessert was discarded just like the morning one. The one he'd made for the evening was similarly ignored, and furthermore, the boy didn't even finish the supper.
Yet another rejection made Sebastian's blood sing but at the same time, it made him unable to focus on anything else other than earning his Master's forgiveness. By morning, he developed his own kind of tea, made of the white roses the boy loved so much. When he delivered and presented it, the boy stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, and Sebastian's brows furrowed. Was something wrong again?
To his pleasure, his Master drank the tea entirely. Then he gave him a stifled nod of approval, and something flourished in Sebastian's chest, sending warmth trickling through his veins.
Strange. He'd have never believed that pleasing someone — a human, no less, could feel so immensely satisfying.
However, his triumph was short-lived. His Master refused to even touch the almond dessert he'd prepared for lunch, wrinkling his nose as if it was the most revolting thing he had the misfortune of seeing.
Now even more determined to break through this wall of rejection, Sebastian spent half of the following night on devising several more unique recipes, critically assessing the texture, the flavour, and the colour of what he'd made. He was done by morning, so when his lord woke up, he served him a cake in the form of a white rose, glazed with white chocolate he had specifically developed.
Shock and disbelief on the boy's face tasted like victory. Mesmerised, Sebastian watched how his offering was accepted, admired, and devoured, and he couldn't help but smile smugly at this sight.
The boy noticed.
His next desserts went steadily ignored.
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"Question one," the boy said. "Can you hurt me physically, despite being in a contract with me? Deliberately?"
His voice was calm and indifferent — only the underlying notes of tension belied its tranquillity. The fact that he was asking something like this after just being thrown off the horse, when Sebastian was still holding him in his arms, spoke of boldness and decisiveness that many demons would envy.
"Yes," Sebastian confessed, and when a sudden blooming scent of fear assaulted his nostrils, he barely fought the impulse to tighten his grip around the boy, tighten it until he heard these delicate bones snap.
The boy's fear was intoxicating. Just imagining how thick with it his blood would feel made Sebastian shudder, and with a corner of his eye, he saw the beginnings of his wings materialising from the darkness, twitching in their urge to wrap themselves around the boy to hold him while Sebastian would tear his body to pieces with his claws.
Then the memory of the boy's laughter burst into his head, the laughter he had worked so hard on earning, and the impulse passed.
He hadn't made a fool of himself by running alongside his Master's horse for nothing.
"Contract or not, I could hurt you," Sebastian said, watching the boy's face for reaction intently. "I could even kill you. However, I will not, because it would mean that I wouldn't be able to touch your soul."
It wasn't the complete truth, but it was the truth he was going to adhere to.
He would not hurt this boy.
Not until the end.
A/N:
Crockett Rocket, thank you so much for your constant support and reviews!:) Yes, Sebastian was absolutely jealous here — he's dangerously possessive of Ciel and everything related to him even though his care is far from being human. We'll explore it a bit more in the second half of this chapter with his POV. I hope you'll enjoy it!
22rubens, thanks, I'm so happy you've enjoyed this chapter! Sebastian's care is of a strange kind: he's possessive of Ciel and he strives to be absolutely perfect for him — from his viewpoint. I'm also glad that you liked the part with Bard. I agree that he must have PTSD himself, considering what he's been through, and this will unite him and Ciel on several occasions in the future, much to Sebastian's distaste.
Guest, thank you so much for your amazing review, I'm so thrilled you liked the story! And it's incredibly flattering to hear that you feel like the characters are in-canon, and I just love that you read the entire story in one sitting! I do that only with stories that I love most, so seeing someone treating my own story this way puts the biggest smile on my face :) I hoped you enjoyed Sebastian's POV! The second half of the chapter is going to be posted very soon. Thank you again!
TheLizard-ling, I planned to include some chapters from Sebastian's POV from the start, after we reach some threshold of events. Since we've crossed the pre-canon part and moved into the episodes' territory, it's time to review the events that occurred through his eyes :) And yes, Sebastian was 100% jealous, both because Bard succeeded where he failed and because he got Ciel to laugh. Of course, his reaction is rooted in possessiveness, but it's still something. We'll regard his reaction from his POV in the second half of the chapter. I hope you enjoyed the first half!
Kannl, thank you! I hoped you liked the first part and will enjoy the second!
Andreevna K. Nagore, thanks, I'm happy you've enjoyed it! And yes, I'm really a latecomer in the fandom, but better late than never, I guess :D
Guest, thank you! I also loved writing the ending, Sebastian's jealousy gives me life :D Hope you'll enjoy the rest!