Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Beauty of the Beast	By : Kitteh Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 2635 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler and don't make any profit from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
So I know it's super early to post this, but I couldn't stop writing and now I can't wait to share :) Enjoy!
**
„What have we here?“
The nails…no, claws, it had to be claws, no set of fingernails could ever be this sharp and unyielding…dug into his cheeks, hard enough to bruise, yet the needlepoints never broke his skin. Above him, coals of hellfire glowed in the darkness, a mouth opening in a grin too wide, filled with too many, too sharp teeth. Ciel’s pulse jumped and kicked into overdrive; it seemed to amuse the thing. It chuckled darkly, another hand reaching, stroking the back of a curled finger down Ciel’s temple and the part of his cheek that wasn’t gripped so cruelly. “A soft little virgin lamb.” The voice was human enough, but it had a dark, velvet quality that enhanced the mockingly tender tone in which the being spoke to him. “Are so eager to die, daring to come here?”
Ciel knew he should have run, screamed, pleaded…anything. But those words merely made him angry. His temper flared and with a decisive swipe of his arm, he brushed the hands away. One talon came away bloody as it scratched along his jawline. “This is my house. You are trespassing”, he told the thing coldly, chin kicked up. He was a Phantomhive. His business may be crumbling, his fortune decreasing, his childhood home may be ruined – but he would not back down in his own house.
A deep chuckle answered him. “Bold.” It sounded almost admiring. The thing…could be living shadows with teeth for all Ciel knew in this darkness…lifted his hand and licked his talon clean. A shuddering breath followed, possibly to the taste of his blood. Ciel could feel the warm liquid seeping down his chin and neck, but he made no move to wipe it away. Nothing to betray vulnerability.
“Yes. Now. Tell me your name or leave”, the boy replied. The being watched him thoughtfully, silent. Now that he had been in the dark for a while, Ciel’s eyes began to get used to it and he could make out some shapes. The thing was taller than him by at least two heads, with eyes that glowed garnet, talons and fangs and…were those wings? “My name,” the being began, sounding hesitant. “It’s been a while since I had a name.”
Ciel frowned. “So…you don’t have anything to be called. What am I supposed to call you, then, Beast? Big ugly….shadowy thing?” One of the taloned hands shot out to wrap around his neck; the fingers so long, his neck so slender, that the talons clicked together behind him. “Careful, little lamb,” the shadow hissed. “I find your gall amusing…for now. It may change at any moment.” The pad of a thumb brushed Ciel’s full lower lip, dragging it down gently. Ciel used that moment to bite the offending digit.
A soft hiss that didn’t sound all that displeased and the hand tightening ever so slightly around his throat, the shadow leaned down…and licked the blood from his jawline. “Foolish little mortal. But don’t worry, you have your uses…you’re delicious, for one.” The rest of his spilled blood was lapped up with a wet, sandpapery tongue, drop by drop, until Ciel shivered. The being smiled against his pulse point. “Very delicious.” Needlesharp fangs dragged against the side of his neck down to the spot where it curved into his shoulder. To gain access to that tender spot of skin, his thumb had relocated to the soft spot beneath Ciel’s chin, forcing his face up in the motion. More pissed off than anything, the boy kept still, watching the shadow. “If you wanted to kill me, you’ve had enough opportunities without fucking around like this.”
There was a pause, as if the being was confused by his behavior. Ciel knew why; it wasn’t the behavior of prey. He refused to be prey. He also hoped the thing wouldn’t notice how his hands trembled, finely, where he had clenched them at his hips. “What will it be?” he demanded. The being growled softly, a sound that made Ciel close his eyes despite his bold words…and brushed his face against the elegant curve of his neck in what could only be a kiss, before lifting his head and letting him go. “I do have a name”, he replied to the question finally, stepping back a little but didn’t stop touching him, the pad of his thumb rubbing up and down his throat, very gently. “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it.”
“Try me.” Ciel prided himself in speaking not only English, but French and Latin fluently, with useful phrases in a dozen other languages. He thought himself quite capable of pronouncing something as easy as a name.
He was wrong. The sound that came from that mouth was inhuman, infernal…a series of hums and growls and clicks that proved to be impossible to imitate. He made the being chuckle again, though. “I am a demon, little one. A human being able to speak the language of hell would be…unsettling, to say the least. Give me a name if you wish to call me by one.”
“I don’t feel comfortable with that.”
“As you wish.” The demon let go of his throat only to pet his hair. “Ah, soft. You’re as delightful as a kitten, claws out and spitting and so adorable regardless.”
Ciel huffed, frowning at the beast. It was obvious this wasn’t anything that belonged on the mortal plane, as ridiculous as he felt dipping into superstitious beliefs. He wasn’t very religious. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t call me…cute.”
“What will I call you then, little one?”
“I am Ciel Phantomhive. I own this house.”
“Yes, you mentioned that. You look exhausted. Sit.” A flick of his wrist, and the fire roared to life as if it had never been extinguished. Still wary, Ciel allowed the demon to lead him to the armchair and sat down in it. He wasn’t sure if the demon was nice to him because he wanted to trick him or if he had seriously impressed the ancient being by not showing fear. He put his forearms onto the armrests, leaning back stiffly, aware of the demon crouching next to him, close enough to touch…close enough to bite, too. It was shrouded in dark as if wearing the shadows, exposing only what it wished to. There was a long silence in which only the crackling of the logs sounded, breaking down under the fire’s heat. It was a soothing sound, really.
“My mother engaged me”, he finally said, more to himself than to the demon, yet he was aware of the attention shifting further onto him as he spoke. “Without my knowledge.”
“Is that something that is still done? I had believed that was an old custom.”
“It is. It’s bloody medieval. There should be another way. Just because he’s rich…”
The demon laughed. “Ah, mortals. Always chasing after money.”
Ciel gave him an annoyed look. “Money is important. It would feed and clothe my mother, keep a roof over our heads. Rescue my father’s company. I consider myself a decent businessman, but…”
Another bit of silence. Almost gently, the demon pressed. “But…?”
The boy sighed and let his head thud back against the backrest. The armchair dwarfed his slender frame, the fire’s light shifting over his smooth throat. The demon’s eyes were locked on that delicate skin, so easily broken; he could almost smell the essence it contained.
Delicious.
But this little mortal was not food; there was a complicated mind behind those big blue eyes, a will of steel and iron contained in that small body. It intrigued him, to say the least. Especially the way those plump lips moved when he spoke again, with his dark lashes resting high on creamy pale cheekbones.
The demon knew desire, appetence. It sat here before him, wrapped up in a frail mortal body.
“I’m too young for people to take me seriously”, the boy admitted. “And if my father had any useful connections, he kept them to himself and they keep themselves hidden. My company is crumbling bit by bit. My own mother is giving me away like cattle.” A deep sigh left his lips. “I hate that man.”
“The one you are going to marry?” The boy gave a nod. “Unfortunate for you, isn’t it.”
Ciel glared at the demon. “Aren’t you compassionate.”
“I am not made to be compassionate”, the demon replied amusedly, shifting to the other side to offer him the cup of tea. Ciel didn’t even think anything of it, just took it and sipped…and blinked. “This is delicious.”
The demon seemed to preen. “Try the cake.” The boy did, slowly chewing. “Where did you learn to bake like this?”
He was chuckled at again. “One of my past masters delighted in tea and sweets. He made me learn to make his desserts by hand.”
Ciel ate in silence, sipped his tea, contemplated. He was not the type of person to hide until the world went away on its own; he was a problem solver. “I have to go back.”
“I would agree. It’s getting dark out there, you would not want to cross the forest at night”, the demon cooed at him. “I shall see you home safely.”
“Is that standard demon behavior?”
“Not at all, little one. Not at all.”
**
The house, as expected, was still in a state of panic. He could hear his name being called from yards away, the beams of flashlights searching the area. “Well, at least they care enough to try to find me.”
“Such dry words, little one. Of course they worry”, the demon grinned down at him; he’d been floating more than walking next to Ciel on the way home, much more leisurely than his flight earlier. “You’re the little cashcow, aren’t you.”
“The reasons of why you live alone in a ruin are becoming more and more clear to me”, Ciel replied drily, glancing up at his unlikely companion. The demon snickered. “Not many are worthy of my presence, sweet lamb.” Ciel merely rolled his eyes.
They stopped just before the line of trees and the boy looked up at the entity. The demon smiled and grasped his face again, much gentler this time, stroking his soft skin. “Come visit me some time, little one.” He leaned down and brushed his fanged mouth against Ciel’s in a mockery of a goodbye kiss. “You’re always welcome in my home.” He disintegrated with a chortle at the boy’s outraged gasp.
“That is MY house you’re speaking of!”, he yelled into the forest, cheeks flushed bright crimson.
He hadn’t expected his first kiss to be all teeth.
**
To say dinner was strained would be an understatement. Lizzie kept clinging to him, appearing to have cried hat he hadn’t been home before dark. Aunt Frances kept giving him dark looks for his childish behavior. His mother wouldn’t even look at him, rather keeping her eyes on the table. Druitt didn’t seem impressed, either. He kept ignoring him for the most part, speaking to his uncle in his loud, dramatic voice, which did nothing to abate Ciel’s pounding headache.
“You okay?”, Lizzie asked him under her breath, uncharacteristically quiet. Her hand settled on his forearm. “There’s scratches on your face. Did you fall?” There is also demon spit on my face, Ciel thought, giving her a weak smile. “I’m okay. Just a bit much all at once.”
She nodded sympathetically. “Should’ve accepted my proposal when you had the chance”, she smiled nudging his elbow with her’s. Ciel snorted. “We were seven.”
“It was legit enough”, the blonde replied, making her cousin smile. “Yeah. I should have.”

A week later, Ciel was supremely annoyed. He woke with a headache and went to bed with one, the dull pounding so familiar by Saturday that he didn’t even notice it much anymore. His father’s liquor cabinet began to look very tantalizing, in fact. Ciel hadn’t ever been drunk before, but there was a first time for everything, right? Like the kiss he’d been given the weekend before…
He shook his head firmly, setting down the pen he’d been playing with. Not a kiss. Never a kiss. Someone without lips wasn’t able to kiss. It had been…a touch. Yes. He could live with a touch. With a sigh, he lowered the hand that had come up to brush his lower lip. The demon hadn’t left his mind once since he had seen him off at the Midford’s house.
Ciel had kept busy by googling all there was to google about demons. He’d stayed up way into the night on most evenings, too wound up to find rest. When he did sleep, he dreamt of glowing eyes and a mocking grin, as if the demon was right there to torment him. Stupid beast, keeping him awake. The stream of information about the inhabitants of hell hadn’t told him anything at all about how to proceed. Demons ate souls. Demons made deals with humans to be able to eat souls. If there was no contract to be had, apparently they were able to eat souls without one. Ciel thought this quite gluttonous. Some demons were fallen angels; others were not. The fallen ones were said to be quite beautiful. All of them could change their appearance, which made Ciel wonder two things – first, how was anyone to know which category they belonged to really if they could just appear as pretty or ugly as they wished, and second…what made someone encountering a demon go online immediately afterwards and post it to Wikipedia?
In the end, he had decided that none of the sources found online were quite trustworthy in his predicament. For all he knew, the demon had put a mark on him with his stupid nibbling and scratching him those few days ago; he just hoped the demon hadn’t followed him and watched him at night when he would remember that encounter and touch himself to the images quite indecently. That beast didn’t need another thing it could hold over his head.
Finally he had decided to catalogue the event as if he’d had an encounter with a predator of the animals kingdom; he’d come close to a lion and survived.
That didn’t explain why he wanted to go back and do it again.
Ciel was by no means a danger junkie. He didn’t get off on rollercoasters, sitting in a car that drove too fast or diving off of bridges with only a rope as security. He didn’t like hiking or climbing. He had never considered himself something else than a bookworm, really, or a shrewd businessman. A good student. The pale kid that stayed home and curled up with a book and a cupcake all afternoon whether the sun was shining or not. The boy no one picked for their basketball team because of his asthma. He was content being who he was.
The fact that he fantasized about too sharp teeth and a too long tongue anywhere near his skin scared him a little.
He leaned his head back, slate-colored hair mussing against the armchair’s backcushion, eyes lazily drifting to the foggy London evening outside of the townhouse’s windows. Night was approaching fast and though his body was bone-tired, his mind wouldn’t shut up. What he thought about, though, instead of…fornicating…with an infernal thing that had no shape at all, was the heavenly cake the same being had given him. It had been perfection. Sweet and chocolatey and moist and so, so delicious…
Ciel startled into a straight position. “Perfection…” His gaze fell to the spreadsheet on his desk, the one with the reclining sales numbers. He knew the assortment of the sweets brand. It contained suckers, candy, little muffins and cakes that were packed separately. It was far from perfect. Even he himself didn’t like the pastries and he rarely ever turned down anything sweet enough.
His fingers found the pen he had set aside before, beginning to draw on the spreadsheet. Before his eyes, quality was created; sophistically decorated small cakes and scones and muffins in elaborately designed boxes. A new design for the wrappers around candy balls and suckers. A new logo. By the time he was done, the grandfather clock in the hall rang midnight.
Ciel sat back, setting the pen down, fingers cramping. This was what he needed to reinvent his business. He needed that recipe.
He had to go back.
And he would eagerly sell his soul to get what he needed.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Beauty of the Beast