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At Night	By : Kitteh Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 6196 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji, nor any of the characters. This is a work of fiction. I make no money with this.

Chapter List
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This kind of became a one-shot series now...enjoy!
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Ciel gasps, breath short in his chest. His slender fingers curl in the sheets…no, not sheets, this doesn’t feel like his bed. This is not even his home. Beneath him is crude linen draped over a wooden box that sounds hollow whenever he nudges against it hard enough to draw a sound. The air doesn’t smell like the lavender water Sebastian sometimes spritzes onto his pillows to help him relax, but dry and sharp and salty. But why isn’t he in his bed? It’s clearly late, dark already even, and where is Sebastian?
Bitten shut lips part involuntarily around a sharp moan as something brushes over his exposed nipple…something vaguely cool and splintery hard. He arches up and is met with a snigger that puts his hair on end.
“Gnihihihi…my Lord, how sweetly you can play along,” his shadowed lover coos at him. He is unable to reply.
His heel hits the box beneath him again just as one of those long, splintery fingernails brushed over his body again, almost playfully, starting at his lower lip. The full pout drags down slightly as the fingers travel, over his chin, down his throat to rest in the hollow – a firm thrust would be all that is needed and Ciel would bleed, quite strongly too. His pulse jumps.
The nail drags on, over his breastbone, thankfully leaving his nipples alone this time…but the lower it gets, the clearer it becomes to the young Earl that he is quite naked. On a tablecloth. Laying on what he has to identify as a coffin, even if that makes him quite uncomfortable. Two hands touch his thighs, pull them apart, greedily kneading the silken insides. He can’t help but moan again.
“This is not exactly what I meant when I told you I had a special coffin ready for you,” Undertaker coos as he leans down to sample the fine, porcelain skin of Ciel’s chest with his mouth. His lips, peculiarly soft, brush along his sternum to find one of the rosy nubs formerly ignored, kissing it almost tenderly. His hands are still on his slender thighs, warm and dry. Long grey hair sweeps over one shoulder to brush against the boy’s side; from beneath a long fringe, bright green eyes look up at halflidded mismatched ones. “At least I have a special coffin nail for you,” he goes on, sliding a hand down the boy’s leg and taking a hold of the delicate ankle. The soft sole of Ciel’s foot is being pressed against the robes the usually deranged man wears, encountering a thick hardness against his toes.
The hand on his foot manipulates the small appendage skillfully against the man and with a flick of his free wrist, the black robe falls open and off of him, vanishing like a wounded ghost. Ciel has no time to wonder where it went; his body is no stranger to pleasure, Sebastian has seen to that, and right now there is a greed in his lower belly that demands to be satisfied. Laying on the last resting place a human will ever get, he watches both his feet being taken, his knees bent and angled outwards so his feet can envelop the thick, pale cock in front of him. He doesn’t have to do anything; Undertaker is leading him, taking pleasure in his body without his doing. His soles glide up and down the thick shaft, his toes curling in against the hot, hard flesh almost eagerly, as if to grasp hold. Ciel’s hands grab the linen beneath him, pearly teeth biting his lips again as he watches his informant thrusting into the soft flesh, lime green eyes sweeping over his body – bared, all of it, with how he is being held open – with unveiled desire. Before long, Undertaker merely holds his legs steady, pounding in a frenzy, teeth bared in a snarl; the rush of pleasure is flushing his skin, making his scars stand out palely.
Precum has been hitting Ciel in tiny, colorless droplets, like the very beginning of a rain, all over his lower belly; the wetness dries almost as soon as it is put onto his smooth skin. Undertaker makes a strangled groan and sniggers breathily a moment before he stills, grasping him so tight it almost hurts. Hot, copious splashes and robes of creamy cum rain down on him, covering his heaving belly, the insides of his thighs, his flushed little balls. Ciel moans and arches his back, feeling his own cock throb in jealousy. Undertaker grins, lifting one of his feet, and cleans what he has gotten onto his toes with his tongue. The ticklish feeling of the slick muscle worming inbetween his toes is a cord right down into his arousal, tugging and teasing. The greyhaired man laves his tongue broadly up his sole. The young Earl gasps and pants, trying to squirm away, or closer, or -!

He sits up in his bed with cold sweat in the nape of his neck and a raging hard-on. It’s dark, but he knows the scent of his room, the feel of his mattress and sheets. With a groan, he sinks back into his pillows and stretches out; his nightshirt in tangled around his waist, baring his thighs. Each slide of his feet against the smooth sheets reminds him of what his subconscious just did to him.
It can’t be helped – he can’t sleep like this. Ciel sighs even as his hand brushed down his body, tugging his shirt free from around him so it won’t constrict him, but before he can grab his erection, a hand cleverly intervenes and takes his.
“Why are you awake?,” asks a familiar voice, dark and smooth as poured molasses. Tender lips press a kiss to the palm of his hand. Ciel turns and snuggles into the mostly bare form of his demon butler, pressing his hot little face against a smooth chest. He murmurs something about a nightmare even as Sebastian pets down his side and flank, onto his thigh, to pull his upper leg over his hip. His hand, ungloved, caresses the flawless skin of one buttock. Ciel imagines those black nails against his pale body. “No nightmare has ever made you hard before, young Master,” Sebastian chides him quietly. There is a smile in his voice and Ciel just knows it’s just this side of mocking. He grumbles incoherently against his butler’s flawless skin.
His chin is tipped up by fingers that don’t need to fumble around for it – Ciel wonders, once again, if Sebastian can see in the dark just like the cats he so loves. The answer is probably yes. Clever, beautifully shaped lips press against his tenderly, coaxing them open, his demon’s tongue licking into his unresisting mouth.
Sebastian knows exactly how to get him off; his hand squeezes his round little ass, fingers sliding deeper to gently play with his tight balls. One fingertip rests against his hole and massages it endlessly gentle, the way Ciel likes best. The boy’s breath hitches against his lips and he eats up the delicious mewl that follows it. Wetness hits his skin as soon as he presses his thumb against the underside of Ciel’s quivering cock.
Sated, the little master sinks against him and quickly nods off; Sebastian’s eyes glow in the darkness faintly, holding the supple little body close, stroking his hair and inhaling the sweet scent that clings to the boy.
He’s going to have a private word with the Undertaker, it seems.
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At Night