The rain had stopped. The sun had yet to come out from behind the clouds, so there was still the threat that it would return. The air smelled wet like wet plantlife and earth as moisture hung in every breath taken as the crunch of gravel could be heard from beneath the mourners' feet. It was a bizarre funeral. No one really knew what to expect from it due to its inherent peculiarity and the rain did not help anything. Still, people showed up. Unusual people. People who had never met the deceased, or had only met them post mortem. Anthropologists and historians from local universities were gathered there, having known the deceased without ever actually knowing them. They knew them from when they studied their bones, categorising them, studying them, and trying to piece together the horrific mysteries as to how they died. They had written reports on the subject and the main players of the research were collaborating on a book. Truthfully, they were surprised that someone had gone through the trouble of holding a ceremony. It was some generous, wealthy, benefactor of some sort. They weren't given the name- or rather, names.
Many wealthy individuals contributed to the service without even being asked. It was the least that they could do for their friend. It took a few phonecalls, but the service was underway, just as promised. It was such an unusual, yet somewhat sweetly innocent request from the baronet that Integra felt compelled to honour it. If she hadn't, though, her grandmother would have made her. Other contributors were the Miles family, the Sullivan family, the Baines family, and what small amount the Westley family could offer, although initially, the sum was refused. After much insistence, the Phantomhive family relented and shared the expense. It was somewhat overkill, but each piece added up.
The backhoe rental was somewhat costly, especially since it was needed longer then initially thought because of the rain. In fact, the water made the earth somewhat unsteady, so there were additional supports that needed to be built, as it was a large operation. The land itself was expensive, as so much of it was needed and although the coffins were cheap, there were so many of them that the cost was ridiculous. Still, it was necessary, if this was going to be done right. Regular funerals were expensive, but when they involved mass graves, it was something else entirely.
Naturally, they didn't start the burial when the funeral was supposed to start, given the scale. They started several weeks before. The concrete path through what was essentially a park, now was set in and the stone monument was put on top of the dirt in the center of it. That was one of the most elaborate pieces, there.
It was a statue of three boys, smiling and playing as they looked ahead into the distance at some unseen wonder as they stood frozen on the tall, square, stone base. It was elaborately carved. Most chillingly, the base of the statue was covered in writing, depicting a list a names. The historians that were present during the ceremony had torn through every piece of documentation that they could find on the property and every name they found was written there. Unfortunately, there were more bodies than names, so the word "unknown" stood in place of one for each boy that was unaccounted for. One name stood out toward the bottom to every single person who paid money for this ceremony. Unfortunately, it was written that he died there and was a victim too, so even though they could not find his body, he was listed as well. Unbeknownst to them, however, Jim Macken was still very much alive and no longer went by that name.
Sir Jim Phantomhive stood in the crowd, dressed in his nicest black suit along with his friends and family. Occasionally, they would come up to him to offer their condolences and their support, knowing that this was all a painful memory that still affected him, but somehow, he felt serene. He was a demon at a holy ceremony. He was the one who survived this fate. While under ordinary circumstance, he would tune out the vicar as he rambled on in prayer, this time, Jim listened intently. Somehow, it made his spirit feel at peace as well.
"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory. for ever and ever. Amen." the vicar opened with. The mourners echoed him.
"Amen." they said. Even Jim did, trying to be on his best behaviour. It didn't matter that he didn't really believe in any of it. He wanted to, at least for this.
"Thank you all for coming." the vicar said. "It is wonderful that you did. As we are aware, these children have undergone a horrific ordeal. They have suffered for sins that were not their own and abandoned without mercy."
No, shit, Sherlock. Of course they weren't given mercy. Of course they suffered. Many of them were abandoned, but something about the way that was phrased got under Jim's skin. He knew for a fact that those boys had families. Some of them were separated and were probably still looking for their children after they were snatched off the streets. Those kids weren't abandoned. Some where, but not all of them. Abandoned by their masters, yes, but not completely abandoned by anyone who would wish them kindness. It was those without such luxury of hope that were completely lost.
"Let us give them the respect that they have been denied for so long." continued the vicar before standing to the side. "Although no one who knew them is able to speak, they do have people who are willing to give them kind words here, today."
"Willing to?" What was this? Some sort of charity? Like it was some great show of character to talk? Talking was cheap. Doing the right thing was not, but Jim bit his tongue, knowing that he was meant to be an ordinary human amoung many that day.
Whether he liked it or not, people wanted to talk, which he supposed was nice. Really, he had only expected a few prayers for the children imprisoned at the Trancy estate, but this could be nice. That hope was damaged, however, as he saw who stepped up to the front next to the preacher. It was some academic know-it-all from the university, Jim could tell by looking at him. Really, Jim didn't want them involved in any of this, but knew that he wouldn't have been able to do all of this without them.
He needed someone to excavate the remains for him if he wanted to give the other boys a more proper burial. That is why he enlisted them. That, and at the time, he was trying his best to block the Pomeroy family from acquiring the Trancy estate again, and shedding light on this was the best way to shut that down. The horrible consequence, however, was dealing with these nerds. Jim could stand listening to the preacher yammer on about Jesus, even if he didn't care for his phrasing, but this guy? This guy bothered him.
The man who stood at the front was the head of the group who did the research on this. He was dressed in a much cheaper, black suit that was too big for him, making him look even larger than he was. On his face was a dark, scraggly beard that was turning grey and a pair of spectacles, but the most alarming feature he wore was that smug expression that made it seem like he was the one responsible for all of this. It made Jim mad. Still, the menace held his tongue, as the man had yet to even speak.
"Hello, everyone." the academic said. "My name is Doctor Flanders. I'm the head of research on the Trancy boys."
"Trancy boys?" They weren't Trancy boys! They were boys who were tortured by Trancy, but don't call them "Trancy boys!" It made it sound like Araneus' owning of human beings was some sort of afterschool club. Moreover, it seemed to cement the fact that these children were literally owned by another person in a trivial fashion, which the menace did not care for. Still, the Doctor Flanders was surely doing his best.
"Over the past few months, we've been studying the incident as well as what was left behind. It is truly a horrific web that just grows more complicated and more repugnant with each new strand." continued the doctor, folding his hands in front of himself as he spoke. "The things documented by staff and the lord of the estate painted a grim picture and corroborated such heinous crimes, that it is almost too much to talk about."
"Then shut up." Jim whispered under his breath. He was so quiet that no one could really hear him. His friend, Kristopherson Miles, did and so did Jim's husband, but only because they were standing right next to him. The former put a hand on his shoulder and gently rubbed it while the other reached down and held Jim's hand.
"They were kept in a dark, filthy basement with little to cover themselves with and lived on scraps. There wasn't enough to go around, so many of the boys took to fighting over it to survive. Many of them went without food because they were too weak or too injured to compete..."
Doctor Flanders kept regaling his captive audience with his team's findings as if he were at a conference or a showcase of his data. With each new thing, however, Jim's grip on his husband's hand grew tighter and tighter as he clenched his other hand into a hard fist. It got to the point where he was hurting his beau's hand in his grip and had to let go. His brow was furrowing deeper and deeper, but unbeknownst to him, he was not the only one. More and more of the mourners grew more irate, from the patrons of the HELLSING organisation, who arranged this, to the non-government-related friends of Phantomhive. Even Travis Sullivan, a friend of Jim's who was known for his gentle nature and for being difficult to provoke was visibly angry.
"I'm very proud to have been apart of bringing these horrific crimes against humanity to light." the Professor carried on. These weren't crimes against "humanity." These were crimes against impoverished boys! "I would like to thank my team for the success of our findings. Without them, none of this would have possible. We would like to thank all of you for coming and hope that you will continue to support us in the future."
"Fuck it." Fists clenched and teeth grit, Jim began to force his way through the crowd with a scowl on his face. How dare he? How dare he?! Jim couldn't believe the nerve of this man! He acted as though this was all about him and his shitty research! He barely mentioned the actual victims, except when sensationalising his findings or going into gross details that were entirely inappropriate for the setting. There was no mention of how they were human. There was no mention of paying them the respect that they were not given in life. It was selfish and obscene. Jim was determined to do something about it. He had to. It was the right thing to do. If that meant that he had to deck a man at a funeral, so be it.
Everyone who was there with him instead of the Professor knew what he was doing as soon as he stepped forward and although some of them thought that there might be a better way to resolve this, none of them were going to come between them once Jim was on a warpath. There was only one person ballsy enough to try. Doctor Flanders had no idea just how much he should be thanking the Watchdog for stepping in before Jim made it to the front. Placing a gentle hand on the professor's shoulder, he interrupted him before he got himself killed.
"Excuse me, sir, but I do believe that is enough." Ciel informed with a smile. It was not a friendly smile, either. It pretended to be, but something about the aura that was radiating from him made the academic feel uneasy. Then again, when a fearsome looking man with dark hair, an expensive suit, and an eyepatch tells you to stop doing something, it is common knowledge that one should listen. "I'm not sure if you're intending to, but you sound as though you are making this event about you and your team instead of the boys that we're here to pay respect to."
"I beg your pardon?" Doctor Flanders somehow managed to let out. "I am respecting them by educating the public about their situation."
"Your audience is already more than aware of the situation. This is not the time or place."
"I'm sorry, but… Who exactly are you? We're sort of in the middle of the service." The professor's tone was incredulous as he gestured toward the crowd. A good portion of the audience was aware right then and there how this was going to turn out.
"Why, I'm one of the benefactors who supplied funds for this event." Ciel innocently replied before gesturing to the crowd, himself. "And so are my friends, whom are similarly agitated by your lack of tact. No one here paid so that you could congratulate yourself or your team for a supposed job well done. You have failed to mention the victims in any capacity beyond how 'horrible' their fate was and when describing all of the things that happened to them. I, along with my associates, find it incredibly distasteful, insensitive, and self-centered. You are done speaking. Goodbye."
With that, the Watchdog simply waved the other man off, assuming authority over him in a deliberately patronising fashion. When Doctor Flanders tried to reply, Ciel simply held up his index finger, interrupting him, before waving him off again. Face flushed, the academic did what he was told, and begrudgingly retreated into his previous place in the audience, although he was clearly displeased about it. He furrowed his brow and folded his arms with a "harrumph" as he looked toward the front at the aristocrat.
"Forgive me, I mean no offense." Ciel lied. He embarrassed Doctor Flanders on purpose as to not only satisfy his husband so that Jim wouldn't still feel the need to punch the professor, but also to satisfy his own desire to punish the academic for being annoying. From there, however, he spoke genuinely.
"I would like to thank everyone who provided donations for the service as a courtesy, however. You've done a very good thing, here." It was somewhat hypocritical of him to say, but it was all that Ciel said on the subject. "But this isn't about patting ourselves on the back. This isn't about doing something good so that we can bask in the knowledge that we are such good people. This is bigger than that. We aren't here to captitalise on their misfortune, nor are we here to marvel at the unjust cruelty that they have endured for our own entertainment. We cannot erase the wrongs that have been done and we will not pity them, but instead offer them the respect and dignity that they are entitled to as human beings. These boys have been denied it for far too long… Ladies and gentlemen, you are not asked for your tears, but instead to simply be present when those who may have loved and cared for these children could not and acknowledge them- Acknowledge them as human beings. Grant them the rite that has been denied to them unfairly and inhumanely. Be mindful to others who you may encounter and make sure that the people you care about in your life now are aware that you love them. Thank you for your time."
He received some applause as he, too, rejoined the audience, grabbing hold of his husband's hand as he passed and gently guiding him back to their original spot. With his free hand, Jim reached up and wiped his eyes. The blonde wasn't aware of when his eyes grew so wet or his face grew so red. All he knew was that he was worked up and that Ciel made him feel at peace again.
"Thank you..." the blonde whispered as they stood side-by-side again.
"Any time." the bluenette whispered back, and unremarkable, the service continued. The vicar cleared his throat, obviously disturbed by the awkward tension that had been created, but too polite to say anything before offering another prayer. At the end of it all, the menace's shoulders relaxed and he let out a sigh as the crowd began to disperse.
"Are you alright?" the Watchdog asked him, prompting him to nod.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Jim answered, even offering up a small smile. "Better, actually. This has been bothering me for a while, so it's nice to put this piece of things away." His smile then widened as he playfully flexed his arms. "I feel practically reinvigorated! I could go to the zoo and wrestle a bear right now!"
"What's this about a bear?" questioned Kristopherson as he approached the duo with his own beau, Logan, in tow.
"You're not a bear, so why do you need to know?" the blonde playfully replied, prompting his most favourite lycanthrope to roll his eyes. Then, after a beat, Kristopherson seemed to reconsider.
"True." he said. "I'm a wolf."
"Are you still coming to eat with us at our place?" Jim inquired before looking to Logan. "I know you can't eat most of what we have, so is it okay with you? I don't want you to feel left out."
"Is there wine and would it be distasteful for me to get drunk?" the incubus inquired, arching his brow. He didn't look like it there, having disguised himself as an ordinary human, but Logan was still very much and incubus and could not eat regular food. He could, however, drink and was known for being rather fond of wine, even making his own, sometimes.
"I don't mind. Do you care, dear?" the blonde questioned, looking to his own partner.
"Not at all." spoke the Watchdog, prompting the werewolf and incubus to look to one another to silently see where the other stood.
"We'll be there." Logan agreed.
"We'll meet you at your house in a few." Kristopherson added before the two couples parted ways. Others took the place of Mister Miles and Mister Kendrick, however, as other friends and associates gave their regards to the Phantomhives.
"I did want to ask- and I'm sorry if I come across as pushy- but is there going to be a kosher option?" Travis did ask before he and his girlfriend, Patricia, headed over to the Phantomhive estate with the others.
"Uh… No pork, no seafood without fins or scales, and no bugs, right?" clarified the menace before answering.
"Yes."
"Yep." Jim answered. "And no dairy for Dan." He paused before looking around a bit. "Hey, where's Patricia? I saw her with you earlier?"
"She's lighting a candle by the statue." Mister Sullivan said, reaching up to scratch his beard. "I hope you don't mind."
"No, not at all! I'm glad, actually. It's really nice of her."
"It's a catholic thing. She doesn't do it a lot, but her mum does. She seems to light a candle for everything."
"Didn't know that. Although… Nevermind. I didn't know."
"What is it?" inquired Travis, noticing the demon's hesitation.
"Oh, it's nothing. A while ago, I was told I could be Irish, and it made a lot make so much sense… Joke's on the uppity protestants, though. I don't know shit about Catholicism."
"What about uppity protestants and Catholicism?" As Patricia approached, she looped her arm through the loop created by Travis' when he stuck his hands in his pocket. "Both aren't all that fun, if I'm honest."
"I was just saying that it's possible that my family was catholic, given circumstances, but I don't know anything about Catholicism, is all." Jim explained, causing Patricia to grin.
"In that case, I was totally lying and Catholicism is great! If you ever want me to teach you a thing or two, just ask!"
"Don't do it." her boyfriend chimed in, only to grin as his girlfriend playfully shushed him. "She'll make you drink Jesus juice."
"It's the blood of Christ!" Patricia corrected, but Travis only echoed himself:
"Jesus juice."
"I think I'm gonna have to pass on Jesus juice…" the menace answered. "That might not be so good for me… Y'know, given my inherent demoness."
As always, the Phantomhive mansion was an imposing sight with it's impressive architecture and security systems. Somehow, however, it still looked more inviting than it has in the past and was now a rather pleasant family home. As the clouds began to part, the sun shined down on the springtime grass and flowers surrounding the associated buildings, with the most impressive being the garden out back. Finnian had officially taken to his post as the gardener of the premises and done his very best to restore it back to health after the unfortunate events from the past winter. He had help from Jim, which was nice, but only just enough to help the plants grow. The rest was all Finnian and he insisted that he kept it that way. The rain had watered the plants, leaving beads of liquid behind on the petals that helped the light shine in a bit more. Needless to say, it was a welcoming sight for the cars that pulled into the driveway.
Some of them were luxury vehicles, like the Rolls Royce Phantom that belonged to the family, but others weren't. There was Kristopherson's Mini Cooper and Audrey's purple Mustang. There was something about the roar of the engine that thrilled Audrey as it vibrated through his body. Jokingly, he offered to race Kristopherson on the way back once they both left their vehicles.
When everyone arrived, they had lunch that adhered to their dietary restrictions- except for Logan, who was merely enjoying being able to drink a lot of expensive wine. Fortunately for the Phantomhive family butler, the duo had thought ahead about the semantics of preparing food for all of these people and hired out, but less fortunately, blood was not a menu provided by the catering company, so they had to seek out alternate accommodations for their vampiric guests.
That was all anyone really had planned for the rest of the funeral services, so many people simply went home afterwards or to tend to any errands that they needed to get to that afternoon. Kristopherson and Logan were perhaps the first to leave, as Logan was tipsy and thought that it would be best for him to take it easy instead of continuing to hang around and possibly make himself look foolish. Their friend, Audrey Baines, left as well because he had grown tired of listening to people. It wasn't that he disliked them or was annoyed by them, but it had grown physically and mentally tiresome to pay attention to their voices with one ear. Daniel Westley went back, as he had a client scheduled that afternoon and wanted to honour the appointment. His friends joked that his black suit made him look more professional than he ever has while working, as there was no tacky, novelty necktie in sight. The Hellsings and their party returned to their duties as well. So did the Midfords, as the Marquis was responsible for a fencing class that afternoon and his daughter, Geraldine, simply didn't want to hang around any longer. That left Travis and Patricia behind.
Well, more accurately, Patricia was left in the green room with Jim and Travis went off to speak with Ciel alone. Their conversation wasn't about much in particular. She explained the significance of the candle to the demon and how it's one of the few things that she does actually do despite considering herself to be a "non-practising" catholic. Saint Christopher came up, as Jim saw him depicted all over Gehenna, but soon things somehow shifted into the two of them swapping stories about the various amateurs that have tried to show them that they were tough, only to look foolish in their lack of technique. Patricia once saw a man make a fist with his middle finger stuck out, although bent at the first joint from the base. He thought it would make things hurt worse, as the hard joint made contact with his opponent. No. Instead, it just broke his finger. Listening to this story, Jim simply nodded sagely, as he had seen it happen before, himself.
Meanwhile, however, more serious conversations were being had. In front of Jim and Patricia, Travis had told Ciel that he needed to discuss possible ideas for a new novel, but when they both arrived at the Watchdog's office, it became obvious that no such thing existed. It was unusual to see the famously unimpressed and difficult to bother Travis in such a state. He let out a sigh before reaching up to rub his face, looking down at the floor as he gathered his words.
"I'm sorry." he finally came out with. "I lied. There's no book. I… I realise that today may not be the best to ask you this, but… I really need your advice."
Travis never asked Ciel for advice. He never asked anyone for advice as far as the Watchdog could tell. That combined with the comparatively erratic mannerisms the man was exhibiting made Ciel somewhat wary.
"Alright?" the bluenette questioned slowly with a perplexed look on his face. For a moment, his friend hesitated, his eyes moving toward the sofas in the room. Briskly, Travis closed the gap between them and himself in a few graceful bounds before sitting down. Awkwardly, he gestured for Ciel to do the same and sit on the sofa across from him on the other side of the coffeetable. Things were only getting stranger, but Ciel reluctantly did what was asked of him.
"Are you in some kind of trouble, Travis?" he inquired further while shaking his head. "Gangsters? Supernatural nonsense?"
"No, no… No trouble. Just… troubled." Mister Sullivan replied. "I tried talking about it with my parents, but they weren't very helpful. Their ideas felt… I don't know… Generic? Impersonal? Things are fine with them, but I'm still… frightened."
"Well, I'm afraid I can't tell you what I think until I hear what it is you're talking about."
"Right, right, right… Okay..." Sitting up straighter, Travis let out a breath before clearing his throat. "I want to propose to Patricia." he announced before letting out another breath and slouching his shoulders again.
Blinking, his friend raised his eyebrows at him, surprised that Travis picked him instead of his husband to talk about this. "That's great!" Ciel said, doing his best to sound positive. He really was happy for his friend, but wasn't the type to express it in a traditionally jovial fashion. He gave his best attempt to sound like the supportive friend he was, but somehow, it sounded incredibly artificial to his own ears, so he debated on whether or not he should stop. "How are you going to do it?"
"Well, you see, that's sort of the problem..." Mister Sullivan replied, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees as he folded his hands. "I don't know. I've tried to think of every which way, but none of it feels right… I've even looked through some of Pat's romance novels for ideas, since she likes that sort of thing, but everything I found seemed so… boring. It's either predictable, or happens kind of inappropriately after some big fight or event or something… I really wish I were a romance writer, right now… I was wondering if you have any ideas. Maybe some that you didn't end up using for Alois?"
"You're asking the wrong person for that, I'm afraid..." the bluenette answered, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over his opposite knee. "I proposed to Jim after washing ashore in a rickety lifeboat at the end of a mission because Jim was mad that I'd been sneaking around on him and demanded I explain why."
"Oof..."
"It was incredibly awkward… I even accidentally phrased things to sound like I was breaking up with him… Somehow, he still said 'yes' to this… I really wish I could've given him something more romantic, but every time I brought it up, he vehemently shuts me down and says that it was 'perfect.' It's appropriate for us, I suppose. Every couple is different. Some are alright with proposing over a fancy dinner, and others share a memorable moment after a botched mission."
"Yikes… That's pretty bad, not gonna lie..." Travis noted, but the other man didn't bother refuting it. "Did you have any plans before that?"
"Many. None of them seemed right, so I wound up just carrying the ring around with me, looking for the right moment." Ciel answered. "Now I wish I proposed at the Eye… That was the first place that we went to as sort of… Well, we weren't together and weren't even really aware of our feelings at the time, but we both sort of agree that it was our first date. You can't be too sentimental with this, I don't think."
"True. That is an idea, though… Money isn't an issue. I'm fine with paying anything, I just want it to be special…"
"Could you somehow do something with boxing?"
"Thought about it, but she'd want something more romantic..."
"Right." Abruptly, the demon stood up, startling Travis for a moment before smoothly making his way over to the desk. He sat down and logged on to his computer. "Let's see what we can come up with."
"I've already tried Google. I couldn't find any ideas that looked decent."
"Did you type in 'proposal ideas?'"
"Yes."
"There's your problem." the bluenette stated. "Let me give you a masterclass in constructing a romantic evening. You have to consider the atmosphere and main activity, for starters, but you also need to come up with things to do around that."
"What do you mean?" inquired Mister Sullivan, standing up himself, to walk over to his friend.
"My dear Travis, if you truly intend to woo this woman, you cannot simply get in the car, go to an event, come home, and act as though your mission is complete. The date does not begin when you arrive, but rather, when you wake up. Everything you do from the moment you wake up on the day you've chosen must be dedicated to making this special. Look here, I will teach you how."
Although Travis was baffled, his friend seemed serious as always, which made him seem trustworthy. It was also well-known that the Phantomhive were by no means lacking in the romance department. They had a reputation for being happily married to the point where their lovey-dovey behaviour bordered on disgusting. Mister Sullivan had faith that Ciel could help him come up with something.
His girlfriend, however, was none the wiser. She was, however, growing a bit impatient as over an hour passed. It was fine, however. Her boyfriend was very serious about his work and she knew that Ciel was indeed a goldmine of information. Thus, she continued her conversation with Jim, who was also starting to wonder where the other two had gone off to. When yet another half-hour rolled by, they two of them finally voiced their concerns.
"Are they writing the whole book in there?" Patricia laughed.
"Who knows. Maybe they're in a groove or something." suggested the menace.
"Well, I hope they get out of it, soon… I'm really tired of wearing this dress."
"It looks nice on you."
"Thanks! I like it. Like, I like wearing dresses in general, but I sitting around in them gets old, y'know? I've taken off my shoes, so it's better, but I still have to worry about not flashing people."
"Yeah, I'd prefer it if you didn't." Jim stated. "I can't remember the last time I wore a dress… I think my school did a fashion show for a funraiser or something..."
"You? In a dress?" Patricia questioned with a grin. "Sorry, but I can't picture it!"
"Oh, Patty… Ciel and I met while I was wearing a dress! I was very pretty as a teenager. He was very embarrassed because I 'tricked' him into finding a boy attractive."
"Oh, no! How could that ever happen?" sarcastically inquired the woman.
"Oh, shock! Oh, horror! Oh, shame! How ever could Lord Ciel Phantomhive, in all of his manly straightness ever find me, another man, attractive?!" The menace gestured wildly as he presented himself with overt melodrama. He stopped, however, and simply laughed. "And that's how we became rivals. Obviously, we're married now, so that's how that went."
"You turned him, huh?"
"Please, if you saw him when he was younger, you could tell he's a baby disaster bi waiting to happen."
Their talk ventured in that vein for a while, talking about the pains of wearing women's clothes, while conversely talking about how Jim claimed to have always wanted to try wearing a kilt. "They're skirts, but macho." he said. More time passed, but with the conversation rejuvenated, it passed a bit quicker. Finally, at long last, Travis and Ciel returned. By this time, though, Patricia's heels were off and she sat with her legs tucked underneath herself while leaning against the armrest of her chair. She had an almost empty glass of wine in hand and was by this point, a bit tipsy.
"I leave you alone with her for a while and you let her get drunk?" Travis nonchalantly questioned. He wasn't serious, but had that sort of dry affectation that Ciel often had when joking, so it might have been difficult for those not used to it to be able to tell.
"To be fair, she got herself drunk. She must not have been doing it right, since I've been drinking and I'm fine." the blonde demon replied with a smile.
Shortly after, Travis focused his attention on getting the woman to their car. He crouched down and allowed her to climb on his back while he grabbed under her legs and held her in place. While doing this, he somehow managed to still hold her shoes in his fingers. An impressive feat, but perhaps unnecessary. Patricia wasn't too incapacitated to walk on her own, but perhaps not in the heels she brought. Travis didn't want her to twist her ankles while making such an attempt, but since he also didn't want her to step on some gravel while walking back to their car, this was the solution he had. Wishing his friends farewell, he made the journey on his own legs, hoping that he didn't accidentally trip and fall, himself. Once the door was closed behind him, the demons were left alone, as everyone else had gone to their respective rooms. Immediately, Ciel was descended upon by a certain menace.
"Carry me, too!" Jim ordered , grabbing onto his beau's shoulders and attempting to jump onto his back. He grinned when the bluenette instinctively caught him and giggled against his husband's ear.
"You aren't drunk. Why do you need me to carry you?" Turning around, Ciel ventured further into the house, all the while giving his own partner a piggyback ride.
"It looked like fun! You never carry me!"
"That's because you're a grown man who can walk."
"You say that, but you're still doing it..." Jim pointed out, only to pout when his beau dropped him. Turning around, however, Ciel bent his knees and crouched, only to press his shoulder against Jim's abdomen and wrap his arms around the blonde's waist. With a small grunt, he picked up the menace once again, this time, carrying him unceremoniously over his shoulder. Ciel smiled widely, as the ensuing fit of giggles he elicited from his spouse tickled him.
"What the hell, Ciel?" the blonde laughed. Looking down, he could see that Ciel was ascending the stairs to the next floor. "This isn't romantic at all!"
"And piggybacks are?"
"People think it's cute when straight couples do it! Y'know, like those straight, middle-class, white people who name their kids shit like 'Braylynn?'"
"We're not a straight, middle-class white couple, though? We're a same-sex, aristocratic, white couple."
"Then what will our kids names, be? 'Reginald?' 'Algernon?' 'Octavia?'"
"Where are you even getting this?" Ciel chuckled. "That's weirdly specific..."
"We went to school at Warwick, Ciel. If you ask to borrow a pencil, ol' Lysander or some shit sitting behind you will ask why your family can't afford them!"
"I sat behind you in school!"
"Stop ruining my jokes!"
Having arrived at the master suite, Ciel put his rambunctious beau down again before removing his tie and putting his suit away. The pair began slipping into something more comfortable, now that their guests were gone, which for Jim meant one of Ciel's long-sleeved shirts and pyjama pants, while for Ciel, that meant a different button up than the one he was wearing and a different pair of slightly less dressy trousers. While they did so, they continued to talk.
"Travis wanted some advice." the bluenette said, preemptively offering his spouse an explanation for his long absence. "He wants to propose to Patricia and wanted my help going over possible ideas."
"Really?!" inquired the blonde, turning his head to face the other. He slipped on his shirt and smoothed it out. "That's great! We'll have married friends to hang out with and talk about… married couple things."
"I think married couple things are a bit different for us, darling."
"Apart from the supernatural stuff, I mean. Y'know, like being a unit, filing your taxes, but checking the 'married' box, and annoying your friends by giving the impression that you have your shit more together and are leaving them behind when really, you aren't that different."
"Jim..." Ciel began, turning around to face the other while buttoning up his shirt. "Too real..."
"Well, you know me, babe. I'm edgy. Real edgy. I could cut a man by staring at him." Stepping forward, the menace put his hands on the other man's shoulders from behind and ran them down his biceps, gripping them, and pulling Ciel against his chest.
"Really?" the bluenette mused as Jim kissed his cheek. "How are you feeling, by the way?"
"What?" questioned the menace, standing up straight again.
"Though I'd check in with you? Are you still feeling alright?"
"Yeah." he said, rubbing Ciel's arms again. "I'm alright. I'm relieved. I feel bad because I wasn't able to cry, but… I think I've cried a lot already. Surely it'll be fine… The doctor thought it would be."
Jim had started seeing a therapist a while ago, despite previous lack of success when it came to school counselling when he was in school. He was a lot wilder back then, though. Now, the baronet was coming to terms with the fact that it might be time to let go of some of the destructive thoughts and fears that burdened him. He would not be free of the trauma of his imprisonment or the things he saw there for a long time, if ever, but if he could do this much, his quality of life would improve. In a lot of ways, it already has.
"I'm glad." Lord Phantomhive replied. "I was worried. I saw you getting ready to punch that man..."
"I don't care about him or his shitty book. I'm not gonna read it or the reports he made. They'll only piss me off." Wrapping his arms around the other man's middle, Jim made it really hard for Ciel to tuck his shirt into his trousers. "Thanks for stopping me, though. It was a nice ceremony, except for him. Clocking some smug blowhard would've dampened things."
"It was a funeral..."
"Not a sad one, though. Some funerals can be happy."
Smiling, Ciel put a hand over the other Phantomhive's. "I understand the sentiment and the significance of letting go, but… Darling, that was really edgy..."
"Isn't it?" Jim laughed, playfully rocking them both from side to side. "Ain't I metal?"
"You are. So metal." Gently, Ciel coaxed the other to let go of him long enough for him to turn and face the menace. It didn't last, though, as Jim's arms were around him once again, but this time, Ciel was close enough to cup the blonde's cheeks and kiss him. When he pulled away again, he ran his hands down Jim's chest, prompting the other man to chuckle with his eyes still closed. He opened them again when Ciel suddenly grabbed him from around his waist and picked him up.
"Ah!" the menace yelped before giggling his head off. He repositioned his arms so that they were around Ciel's shoulders as he went back in to kiss the bluenette, allowing himself to be carried away. Ciel only brought him into the other room, though, before forcing him to separate and tossing Jim onto the bed. The blonde bounced and continued to laugh, watching as Ciel took a few steps back. "Come on, baby!"
The Earl rushed up to the bed and jumped, landing next to his husband while the two of them laughed. He made both of them bounce before his husband rolled over on his side and put his arm around him. Jim put his face in the pit of the other man's neck and blew raspberries there as Ciel instinctively held him there.
"Oof..." the bluenette grunted as he struggled to get comfortable.
"When most people brag about nearly breaking the bed, I don't think this is what they mean." Jim jested, pulling away for a moment. As his husband continued to shift, Jim propped himself up on his elbow as he laid on his side in order to give him some space. "Problem?"
"I don't think the bed's broken, but we really need a mattress..." Lord Phantomhive replied. "It feels like I'm laying across a ditch..."
"Well, let's lay the other way, then."
"That's why it's like this. We always lay in the same spot, so it's compressed."
"Well… Can we just go get one, or..?"
"Yeah. We'll just go to the store, and-" Pausing, Ciel thought a moment. "Huh..."
"What?"
"This will be the first time we buy a mattress together."
"Oh, yeah… Is that a really 'couple' thing to do? Buying houses, cars, and stuff like that together?" Jim questioned. "Is it weird that I like stuff like that?"
"No, I don't think so. It's weirdly exciting, isn't it?" Ciel replied. "Are you free tomorrow? We could go down and get one."
"It it that easy?"
"Pretty much."
"Mmm… I can go. I need some paperwork done, but I can do it later." the baronet replied. "Help me stamp things."
"You're supposed to stamp them. I don't have authorisation."
"That's not what you say when you make me help you with your work."
"You're supposed to be the upstanding citizen between us."
"No, I'm supposed to do the most good by using a mixture of moral and underhanded tactics depending on which is best for the situation. Do you even know me?!"
"I know you. I know you're ridiculous."Ciel stated, turning over on his side to face the other. He was obviously uncomfortable, as his side dipped into the mattress at an unnatural angle, but he wanted to look at his beau. "So it's a date, then?"
"Yeah. Did you tell Travis about all of the exciting aspects of being a committed, longterm couple like this?"
"No, but he'll figure it out, eventually."
A/N: Welcome back~! Did you miss me? It hasn't been that long, but still! I want to feel loved!
Anyway, we're back. This is a much different first chapter from the previous one, isn't it? And the first chapter before it? In those, there was something fantastical going on, but this time? It's just "yeah, these are people and here are their lives." I'm actually kind of worried about whether or not this is a good first chapter, but I feel like this is really where the characters are in their lives at the moment. Also? I just wrote a shit-ton of chapters with like, important plot elements and catastrophice destruction... blood and death... that kind of shit. I wanted to write something "boring" after that!
Let me know what you think!
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
