Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Wrote this wee drabble to amuse myself. If it amuses anyone else, that'll be a nice bonus. Some of my long-time readers may get the joke. But it doesn't really matter. XD
Warnings: This is the purplest thing I have ever written. 8| SebaCiel. Thrown together and edited in an hour or so. Also, you should look "purple" up on thesaurus(dot)com.
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Purple
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"…is this new?"
The haze of drowsiness finally leaving his vision, Ciel blinked in bemusement at the outfit in which Sebastian was currently dressing him. Never in his life had he seen so much purple. The satin blouse now swathing his torso was a dapper shade of amaranthine, bedecked in buttons and braided-cord trimming of a plum hue. His vest was a dark strain of amethyst, made to match the jewelry that Sebastian had surreptitiously slipped into his earlobes and onto his thumb. Violaceous stockings had been rolled to his knees; wine-colored shorts and laces brought the ensemble together, capped off with a sprig of spring violets threaded through his boutonniere.
The earl's butler smirked sweetly as he stood from bended knee, smoothing sleep-rumpled hair from his tamer's mismatched eyes. For once, he parted those hoary locks to the right, bringing focus to Ciel's lilac iris. It did, after all, better compliment today's apparel. "It is, my lord," he willingly confessed, swallowing a mouthful of laughter when his catty charge batted his hands away, muttering about incompetence. Sebastian bowed slightly, moving back a step; Ciel styled his tresses properly, then twisted away from his servant: fingers scrounged atop the bed-stand in search of his patch. He found it easily enough, but instead of being its usual black, the leather was now a deep mulberry.
Ciel's lips pursed into a thin line, his small body tensing in irritation. What the hell? "Dare I ask why you decided to purchase and parade me around in such ridiculous foppery?" the young nobleman demanded, thrusting the garish new patch into his butler's chest. Arms crossed in a show of discontentment, he nevertheless waited for his butler's (necessary) assistance. "I'd not wear it at all, were I not already running late." Or were he capable of changing clothes by himself. But he wasn't, and he had a sinking feeling that Sebastian would not be willing to help him in such an endeavor. The butler seemed awfully pleased with himself, as well as this gaudy suit.
"Whatever the reason," the leering Sebastian cooed, dutifully looping the patch's cords into a comfortably tight knot, "I am most pleased that the young master has deemed my humble selection worthy of wearing. You honor me, my lord."
The blatant flattery was answered with a snort. "I still fail to understand what possessed you to buy something as tacky as this," Ciel dourly groused… though in truth, it was a handsome set. Despite the unusual coloring (unusual for his closet, anyway), the garments were well-tailored, classily cut, and perfectly coordinated. But he'd never say that aloud; he hardly needed to give Sebastian another reason to gloat. "When have I ever expressed an interest in purple? I doubt the queen would be happy to see me in such. And you've never been fond of anything with strains of red in it. So why this?"
The demon's enigmatic grin remained as Ciel glanced swiftly upward, their sidelong gazes catching, holding. He blinked owlishly, once, when the elder's expression notably softened; a white-gloved hand lifted gingerly, threading an unruly forelock behind his master's ear. Sebastian's smile gained teeth when the earl's new earring caught the rosy light of morning, casting lavender glitter upon the far wall. "My lord is more practical than sentimental," the butler then chuckled, in a black-velvet voice that teased Ciel in a number of ways. "Presumptuous though it was, I assumed he might find more pleasure in fabrics than in flowers. Perhaps the language of the latter allows for more delicacy in phrasing one's point… However, as a devil of a butler, I could hardly resist the temptation of a—shall we say—blunter message."
Message? The young teen frowned, trying to ignore the smoldering tingles that lingered wherever Sebastian touched him. "Message?" he echoed again (aloud this time), coughing once to clear his throat of unwanted huskiness. Damn hormones. "What sort of message could you possibly convey with this—this…? This!" He gestured vaguely at his person, confusion furrowing his brow.
But if he honestly expected a straight-forward answer, then Ciel hadn't been paying proper attention to how his demon preferred to operate. Rather that respond, the butler's amusement only grew: eyes flashing a hungry vermillion as willowy fingers slipped from temple to shoulder, from shoulder to chest, from chest to… "I assure you," Sebastian silkily vowed, "that I meant it as the highest of compliments."
"Meant what?"
On the verge of succumbing to his most-basic of urge (shouting, swearing, stamping his feet like a frustrated toddler), Ciel glowered up at his inscrutable servant, looking very close to pouting. Silly child; he never seemed to realize that such outbursts were exactly what made him so much fun to play with… But there was teasing, and then there was torture. Besides—they had a schedule to uphold. Thus choosing to relent—at least to a degree— Sebastian indulged in a sonorous chortle, then dipped scandalously low: breathing a heated hint into his charge's pinking ear.
And when Ciel finally found the time to follow that suggestion ("English is such a flowery language, hm? Why not broaden your vocabulary…? I've left the thesaurus open in the library…") he turned such a vibrant shade of mauve, it was difficult to tell where his skin ended, and where his clothing began.
But a pull of the bell-string later—after nonchalantly slipping his violets into Sebastian's own buttonhole—, it hardly mattered anyway.
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