Hi there, my lovelies, whether you be fangirl or plain'ol otaku.

I loved Black Butler and being a fangirl of course I needed to write a bit of SebastianXCeil... It isn't anything prominent, no yaoi or smut... just some hinted Shounen-ai for my lil heart.

Brilliant crimson eyes narrowed, lowering until black lashes entwined, over one eye a brow twitched.

Sebastian straightened and placed his hands on his hips. Ceil may be a demon now too, but this was bad, no this was unacceptable.

With contempt, he nudged at the woman sleeping on the floor with his foot. Disgusting, disrespectful... There were probably millions of words to describe how he felt at that particular moment, yet for some reason they alluded him. All he could think of was tossing this trash out the door, only he couldn't...

What kind of butler would I be if I threw out Master's guest? Sebastian closed his eyes and sighed, a damn smart one would do it.

This was a disaster if ever he had seen one.

He tasted sour revolt rise up the back of his throat and opened his eyes. How had things gotten like this? His expressionless Master was sprawled over the woman, his sleeping face etched with peace, Sebastian wanted to shake him awake, slam him against a wall.

Instead of entering into such rash actions that would get him punished, he silently moved around the tangle of limbs, gingerly picking up discarded clothing as he went.

His young master had lost his mind.

Sebastian's nose wrinkled, the air was still thick with passion and he dreaded having to clean the room. He had been with Lord Phantomhive for more years than he thought to remember, sadly he had grown to dislike the present days. Perhaps it was his ever growing hunger, the gnawing need in his gut to devour a soul, to relish the taste of sweet, bloody revenge.

As time seemed to pass, Sebastian knew he would never know that pleasure again. His young Master had lost all essence of revenge, it had been too long since the taking of it, instead he had turned to petty sins, nothing that could rise his poor butler's interest.

Orgies... said butler yanked open the curtain with too much force, the fabric swished and the rings holding it together rattled. He didn't care if the sound arose his master from the pleasurable sleep he seemed to be partaking in, as a butler the demon was simply doing his duty.

He skirted around another naked woman, his lips curling over his teeth. His young master was growing careless: bite marks marred the woman's shoulder and her lips were blue, had the child sucked the woman's lustful soul from her body?

Sebastian felt a stirring in his stomach. Fire and damnation he was hungry, he had been with his Master so long that he hadn't been summoned by any other and even if he were summoned he could not leave his young Master's side. He was a Phantomhive butler.

For a moment he almost leaned down to check if the woman was indeed missing her soul, if she still had the precious meal he would take it to satiate the pain, but he didn't, he continued to walk toward the door.

"Seb-bastian..."

The demon froze at the sound of his master's husky mutter, Sebastian did not turn to face his master, if he did the disappointment in his face would surely give him away. As his lips parted to utter the words that were engraved on his every memory, no sound emerged. Yes, my Lord?

"Sebastian!" Ceil's voice was stronger now, a demand. He had risen to his elbow, placed his chin in his hand and was staring at his butler's back.

Clearing his throat, the man in question gritted his teeth forcing the words out. "Yes, my Lord?"

The younger demon smirked and ran his free hand through his hair. "Bring me some cider,"

It's morning still, sire, perhaps some tea? "Of course, master," You've drunk all the cider in the cellar, young master, may I interest you in lemonade or some port? Sebastian remained waiting, face toward the door, fingers curled tight around discarded trousers.

"That will be all, you may leave,"

"Yes, my lord," he uttered and walked from the room, silently shutting the door behind him.

The house was silent. As silent as death, Sebastian enjoyed death normally, but it had begun to lose its appeal.

He wondered alone through the halls, there was something missing... perhaps if he were to employ staff for his young master... no, that was not possible. Vaguely he recalled the grinning faces of the three hands that had cared for his master in Ceil's earlier life. Terrible, clumsy workers with the skills of shinigami and faces filled with love for Lord Phantomhive.

As he thought back on it, Sebastian admitted he had somewhat cared for the weak creatures, humans died so easily, they had amused and made his everyday that small amount brighter or darker on occasion.

Ah, it brought back memories of England: afternoons serving tea and cake, balls with Miss Elizabeth, scouring the streets for the Queen, readying his weary eyed master for bed...waiting in anticipation to taste that exquisite soul.

Once the clothes were discarded, Sebastian made haste with fetching some cider, only the best, most ambrosial for his master.

His feet whispered soundlessly over the steps, along the carpet and he paused at the door to the Earl's room, his knuckles rapped against the wood.

"Come in,"

Again the room was dark, young master must have pulled the drapes closed to ward off the mid-morning sun. Sebastian made his way with ease through the shadows to where Ceil had seated himself, completely bare on the edge of the bed.

Ceil's hair stood unruly in many directions, his pale face painfully bare, his eye-patch lost somewhere among the bed sheets. The circular scar on his eye was obvious as his eyes glowed red, Sebastian feigned lack of emotion.

At one time he had come to love his master much as the other staff had, he may even have contemplated terminating their contract, only if he hadn't agreed to that one demand. Perhaps, if he had turned away he would be lapping up despair from a damaged soul at that very moment instead of offering his master a cup of cider.

What he felt now, was empty. All the admiration he had fondly placed on the boy had dissipated until only regret remained. To be a demon with no purpose or will, yes, it was likely he wasn't worth his salt after all.

"Sweet apple cider, brewed in Italy," Sebastian muttered, carefully passing the glass to his master, careful not to spill a drop.

Ceil didn't move to take the glass, he stared at it, red eyes glowing like fire. "Say it,"

Sebastian ground his teeth and pressed his free hand over his heart, bowed over it, "Of course, my Lord."

"Very well," The young demon took the glass and swirled the golden liquid round and round, minuscule bubbles formed and clung to the edges. "Sebastian?"

"Yes... my Lord?" he was the perfect picture of a calm, emotionless, soulless butler.

"Tomorrow it my birthday,"

Indeed, sire, it is. What will you have me make of such? Do you wish for a party? Perhaps we will ignore it as we have the last ten?

The young man looked up at Sebastian with a scowl, he had clearly been expecting something. Sebastian was not sure what, he had long ago lost the ability to read his master's wishes without being told.

"We shall celebrate," Ceil uttered and lifted the glass to his lips.

"Of course, my Lord,"

His red eyes flashed, "You may plan it for tomorrow evening,"

Sebastian bowed his head and straightened, "Whom shall I invite, young master?"

Ceil made of sound of anger and the butler found himself soaked with cider, Sebastian stood still as the golden liquid dripped from his hair because he truly had nothing to say to this.

Master's breathing was hard and he turned his head away, "D-don't call me that." When his gaze refocused on Sebastian, it was livid and shamed, "I'm turning twenty-three tomorrow, I cannot be called 'young master'."
"Of course, my lord, my apologies, how very insolent of me."

Ceil stared at the rivulets streaking down his butler's face and felt his own warm. "Yes, insolent... go clean yourself and bring me more cider."

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian bowed again and left the room, aware of the women stirring on the floor.

"What is this?" Ceil demanded as he stood in the ball room, there were people, many people that he had never laid his eyes on and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. "Who are these people?"

Sebastian extended an arm, "Your guests, sire,"

Ceil turned a scorching gaze on the male at his side. "I can see that. But who are they?"

"Many people with no importance, my Lord, their names will be forgotten and they shall all die soon enough."

Lips trembling, Ceil turned to stare at the hall, when had he last been in there? He could not recall but he was sure it had never looked like this, brilliantly decorated with dark blue and crimson, a sea of swelling magnificence.

Yes, they would all die soon enough, he thought, they were, after all, human.

"I'm hurt I did not receive an invite," Ceil turned to find himself staring into the eyes of a red-headed shinigami.

"Grell Sutcliffe, "He felt his heart swell, hell no he was not glad to see the man, but seeing that familiar face brought a flood of memories.

But the man was ignoring Ceil, his eyes were wide and glued to Sebastian, his lips stretched into a face splitting grin. "Sebby, it's good to see you,"

"You as well, Grell," Sebastian's lips slid into a small smile and he bowed his head, his dark hair flopping over his face and his inky lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

"Sebastian!" Ceil snapped, his black nails were digging into his palms and he felt anger along with something else cloud his mind.

"Yes, my Lord?" As the words slipped past Sebastian's lips, all semblance of a smile disappeared.

Spitting rage, clawed at Ceil but he managed to keep his voice level. "Get rid of these people,"

"Of course, sire," without another word Sebastian disappeared down the stairs, leaving Grell and Lord Phantomhive alone.

Grell chuckled and turned knowing eyes to Ceil, "You haven't changed much,"

Ceil bit back the urge to scream that he has, "I am taller,"

"Yes, well, you have aged, it suits you rather well, it's no wonder I've collected so many lost souls recently."

"Excuse me?" Ceil demanded, his face heating.

"I know what you do to those girls," Grell grinned, baring sharp shark-like teeth. "I get to see their memories, they all prefer death to the shame of losing your affection."

I know whose name you call... the words went unsaid, but Ceil heard them.

(A/N: Ceil has been a naughty boy ;])

Face officially burning, Ceil bared his teeth, "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"But I do." pushing his red hair back Grell leaned over to whisper in Ceil's ear. "You think being with so many women will stop those feelings, but you're only digging yourself deeper. The more you try to distance yourself from Sebastian the easier it will be to lose him."

Ceil snorted and turned away, his nails biting into his palm. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Fine, but I'll have you know, I still want him and I will do whatever is necessary to have him. I will break your contract, believe you me."

"Young...my Lord?"

In his office, which he had never used, Ceil screwed up this eyes and peered at Sebastian, "What?"

"Would you like some cake, sire?"

"Cake? What cake?" He demanded, slowly rubbing shaking fingers through his hair. Grell's words continued to plague him.

"For you birthday, my Lord, it was for the party."

"Oh," He stopped with his fidgeting and blinked, rubbed his eyes. "Yes, with some tea,"

A sigh of air parted Sebastian's lips and his chest felt lighter, tea, his young master had asked for tea. "Right away, my lord."

Ceil nodded and waited until Sebastian had left before he opened the envelope before him. When was the last time he had done such a menial task? He could not remember but smoothed the parchment between his fingers, caressed the curving letters.

Dearest Ceil

Again I've come to your home, the Phantomhive Manor is rather empty without you and the staff have finally left, although it is clear someone is looking after it. Perhaps Sebastian returns to keep an eye on your resting place from time to time.

Mother has introduced me to a wonderful young man, his name is Robert. I fear I may be in love, do not fret, my dear, I will never forget you, but-

Ceil lowered the letter to the desk and his eyes wandered to the overflowing pile, letters... He reached for another, again Elizabeth, her script neat and elegant.

They were all from Elizabeth.

He reached the end of the pile and gently cut the seal, the paper was flimsy already and greying, but had at some point been excellently preserved.

Dearest Ceil

Today Sebastian came to visit me, he told me that you have passed away. I would not believe it!

So I came here, to your home, but you are not here, my love. The staff would not speak to me either and when I asked to see Sebastian, they said he has taken you away.

I'm not sure where he has taken you, but I believe that if you are alive you will come to no harm.

If you are truly lost to me...I can only hope we will be reunited in death. Will you wait for me?

Alas, I've soaked my sleeves through and my fingers are shaking as I write to you. It's dreadful to think of a life where I can no longer see you, my heat has burst with pain.

I am not sure whether you will receive this letter, as you may be...

I write in hope that somehow my feelings may reach you, as I do not know where you are I shall leave my letter here for you, on the bottom step where you first took my hand in yours.

My heart, my soul yearn to know you are well, I cannot help but believe that it isn't true. Not my Ceil, I couldn't possibly lose you.

I will write to you again and again until I receive a reply.

All my love

Lizzy

For a moment Ceil sat in silence, the paper trembling in his fingers.

Lizzy... he couldn't remember her face. He could vaguely recall flashes of pink and screeching laugher, dancing lessons and boat rides, just not her face.

"My Lord?"

Startled, Ceil dropped the paper, it floated down and fluttered to the floor. "Ugh-"

"I'll get it for you, sire," Sebastian said and bent to retrieve the sheet, his eyes not even roaming it in curiosity as he balanced a tray in his other hand. He gently passed the letter to his master and began to serve the tea. "A honey and cinnamon Chai tea and a vanilla angel cake with strawberry and royal icing."

The young demon watched in amazement as Sebastian placed the desert before him. "Sebastian?"

"Yes, my Lord?" The demon straightened and watched his master carefully.

"Have you... did you..." He scowled and waved a hand at the letters.

"Lady Elizabeth wished for you to know how she felt, my lord, I was merely a messenger."

"Why didn't you give them to me?" Ceil demanded.

Sebastian opened and closed his mouth, how to answer such a tricky question? In fact he had given them to his master, on countless occasion had he held out the pale parchment and offered it to his master, but Ceil never listened. "My apologies, sire," he bowed.

Growing red, Ceil looked at the letter. "What did she look like?"

What, no reprimand or punishment? "She was no taller than you, my Lord, she had curled long hair, the colour of golden wheat heads; large innocent eyes and a brilliant, wide smile, my Lord."

"So, very pretty then?"

Sebastian contemplated this before answering a small smile tugging at his lips, "Indeed, Master, a lovely girl, loud and energetic, but thereby the perfect opposite to my master."

Nodding his head, Ceil played with the handle of the cup. "Did you like her?"

"As much as any other human,"

"So not at all, then?" Ceil shook his head. "And I?"

"You liked her plenty, sire, she was a distant cousin of yours and she was the only person who could make you smile, a mighty task indeed."

"No, no I-" Ceil sipped his tea, his eyes glued to the letters. "What I mean to ask was...whether you liked me as just another human."

"No, my Lord," Ceil head popped up, his eyes wide, "You were not just another human, you were the human whose soul I would eat." Sebastian smirked slightly, "A waste of waiting for such a delightful meal."

Suddenly angry, Ceil began to push the tea to the side, "Do-"

"I would like to be free of this contract, my Lord," His eyes were sad as they trailed down Ceil's face. "But I am simply one Hell of a butler and my place will always be at my master's side."

The young master remained silent.

"Is that all, my Lord?"

"Yes," as Sebastian reached the door, Ceil panicked, he was worried that when his butler walked through those doors he would never see him again. "Sebastian?"

"Yes, master?"

"Will you... will you prepare a bath for me and help me retire for the night?"

"Of course, sire," Ceil noticed the slight light in Sebastian's eyes and blushed.

"And Sebastian?" The butler waited and Ceil cleared his throat, "Young master is fine..."

"Of course, young master," And with a smile on his face Sebastian left to prepare the bath for his young master.

Did you like it? I wrote this at one in the morning on a whim, so if it sucks I'm very sorry.

I didn't think about this too much, so my intention is to leave it as a one-shot, if you liked it and want more I'll consider writing a sequel or two. ;) (Smiles nervously) And if you beg maybe a bit more intensity between Lord and butler may come your way.

Either way, please review, I appreciate your opinion.

Fangirl out!