Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Devilish Impulses	By : Arianawray Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 13948 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of its characters, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Unwanted
- 2-Whim
- 3-Trust
- 4-Taste
- 5-Scheme
- 6-Command
- 7-Competition
- 8-Advice
- 9-Enlightenment
- 10-Sustenance
- 11-Caught
- 12-Breath
- 13-Arms
- 14-Inflammation
- 15-Imagination
- 16-Intent
- 17-Compromise
- 18-Sacrifice
- 19-Despair
- 20-Compassion
- 21-Interest
- 22-Equality
- 23-Mentor
- 24-History
- 25-Disorder
- 26-Reputation
- 27-Gifts
- 28-Admission
- 29-Watching
- 30-Bonds
- 31-Revelations
- 32-Confrontation
- 33-Struggle
- 34-Separation
- 35-Duty
- 36-Change
- 37-Together
- 38-Love
- 39-Epilogue: Heaven
- 26
- 27
- 28
Gifts

"Happy birthday, Ciel!" Lizzie cries, thrusting a small, beautifully wrapped and ribboned present into her fiance's hands. She kisses him on the cheek.

Behind her, Lady Francis tries not to smile. It is on the tip of the marchioness' tongue to tell her daughter not to be so forward with her cousin. But she has been doing her best to be less strict with her younger child since the girl nearly died, and she is learning to let some things go. Especially minor matters such as Elizabeth's innocent affection for the boy who will after all be her husband in time to come.

"Thank you, Lizzie," Ciel says, chastely touching his lips to her cheek in return.

"Open, it!" she says.

"Elizabeth," comes her mother's reminder. "You are not the only one who has brought Ciel a birthday present. Your father and brother have sent one, I have a gift for him, and I believe the members of his household have put together some things to mark this special day. Shouldn't we wait until Ciel is ready to open them too, and not only yours?"

"Oh! Of course, Mother!" Lizzie laughs. "I was simply too excited about finding a present that I was sure Ciel would like!"

"I am sure I will like your present best of all," he tells her graciously.

Elizabeth is brimming with delight that he has agreed to her suggestion of a simple birthday party with herself, her mother, his household, and any particular friends he may wish to invite. These past few years, Lizzie, her brother Edward, Lady Francis and the Marquess have marked Ciel's birthday with the greatest discretion, and without gifts – for he had made it very plain that the date was a painful reminder of how his whole world had been torn from him when he turned ten. But Lizzie has observed that in recent months, her cousin has been smiling more – in a truly contented way at that, not the pained smiles he forced for so long. He is starting to heal, and she wants to be there for him every day, every year, as he recovers fully and builds a family of his own, with her.

Sebastian receives the other gifts that the marchioness' footman takes down from the carriage, and carries them indoors behind his master and the guests. Lady Francis has recently met Prince Soma and his capable aide, so she greets the prince and acknowledges Agni when she steps into the withdrawing room where the small gathering is to be held. But a man is present whom she and Elizabeth have never seen before. They are surprised when he is introduced to them as John Jarvis, vicar of the Church of the Trinity in Lambeth.

"What a pleasure it is to meet you, Mister Jarvis," Lady Francis says. "I had no idea that my nephew was acquainted with any clergymen. He has never been... the religious sort."

"Lord Phantomhive seems to know many different kinds of people," Jarvis replies with a warm smile, hoping he will not be questioned in detail by this intimidating marchioness about exactly how he came to know her nephew.

"Mister Jarvis was very kind to me when I encountered certain difficulties in the course of my work," Ciel tells his aunt.

"Lord Phantomhive neglects to say that he helped me out of a very difficult spot before that," Jarvis adds.

Lady Francis knows well what sort of "work" her father and brother did, and realises that she should perhaps not ask for too many specifics, especially not in front of everyone else. She therefore turns the conversation in a more mundane direction by asking the vicar: "How did you make your way here from Lambeth, Mister Jarvis?"

"His Lordship was kind enough to send his carriage for me..."

Ciel leaves them to exchange a few more pleasantries as Sebastian reminds everyone that it is to be a very informal party, and they should take what food and drink they want from the sideboard.

Armchairs, sofas, dining-table chairs and cushions have been positioned around the coffee table and carpet near the window with a pleasing view of the Christmas rose garden, so everyone gravitates there after filling their plates and glasses. The servants are initially embarrassed about sitting down with the marchioness, the prince, Lady Elizabeth and Lord Phantomhive, but Ciel growls at them that this is his birthday party, and they are all his guests, and to please sit.

Sebastian does not take a chair or cushion, but half-perches against a sturdy, low cabinet behind Ciel. Now and again, he discreetly moves about, making sure that Lady Midford's coachman and footmen are well plied with food and wine in the kitchen, bringing more food into the withdrawing room, replacing empty bottles of wine with new ones, filling glasses, handing petit fours round, adjusting the curtains to let the crisp afternoon winter light in, and answering the telephone when it rings in the foyer.

"Sebastian, the cream-cheese and smoked salmon rolls with the chopped herbs are wonderful," Lady Francis offers some rare praise, when he is back in the room.

"Thank you, my lady. I am delighted that you like them."

"You must give my cook the recipe."

"Certainly, ma'am. I shall write it out at once."

"Not now," Lady Francis tells him. "This is my nephew's birthday celebration with his household, and you've not eaten a bite."

"I don't think I've ever seen Sebastian eat, although Agni has," Soma remarks. "I did try to make him sit down with us once when Ciel and I were having a makeshift picnic out in the garden with Agni – that was in summer – but he said something about how cooks never enjoy their own cooking as much as other people do."

"I enjoy my own cooking," Baldroy protests.

"Yes, but no one else does," Finny returns with an innocent honesty, which is rewarded by a sharp cuff from the chef, provoking a loud cry of "Ow!" from him.

"That isn't entirely fair, Finny," Agni laughs. "Baldroy's cooking is very much improved. I really did like the roast duck he made for us last month, when Mister Jarvis was last here for lunch."

"Yes, the roast duck was excellent!" Jarvis confirms. "I've never tasted better."

"That was only because Mister Sebastian was looking over his shoulder every second... ow!" Finny goes again.

"Baldroy's cooking has improved," Sebastian admits. "I even trust him to make some of His Lordship's meals, on occasion."

"Don't make it sound as if I'm that difficult to feed," Ciel growls.

"Oh, aren't you?" Soma demands. "You're the pickiest person to look after. 'Sebastian, this meringue isn't as crisp as the other one', 'Agni, the curry's much too hot', 'Baldroy, too much crust on the sandwiches', 'Sebastian, I don't care if it's the middle of winter – I want a fresh summer-berry trifle'."

Soma's wickedly accurate imitation of Ciel has everyone holding their sides with laughter; even Ciel permits himself a smile after scowling.

"All right, that's enough teasing," Elizabeth speaks up in her cousin's defence, although she herself has barely finished giggling. "It's Ciel's birthday. We can make fun of him another time. Now he should open his presents!"

"Oh yes, please, Young Master, do open your presents now!" Mey-Rin chirps. "I hope you will like what Baldroy, Finny and I have made for you."

"You made something for me?" Ciel asks. "What is it?"

"Here you go, Y'Lordship," Baldroy says, picking up one of the wrapped packages from the table and presenting it to Ciel. "Don't you worry – it won't explode in your hands."

Ciel slips off the string and paper to find a rectangular wooden box with brass hinges and a brass lock. It is a little roughly carved, but all the more appealingly rustic because of that, with a pretty picture of a bluebird painted on it.

"Finny chose the wood and design, I carved and polished it, and Mey-Rin painted it and put on the hinges and lock," Baldroy explains. "We've noticed that the box you've been keeping your pens in has a broken hinge, so we hope you will be able to use this."

"It's very charming, and the perfect size to hold my pens," Ciel says. "It will be put to use in my study from this day onwards. Thank you, Baldroy, Finny, Mey-Rin."

The next present is from Tanaka, a pair of the softest black kidskin gloves, "which I selected to be a little large, because I know Your Lordship will grow into them in no time at all", the steward expresses his wish for the earl's continued good health and physical development.

"Thank you, Tanaka. I do seem to be growing at quite a rate. These will fit just right once my current black kidskin pair starts wearing out."

Ciel finds that the next present handed to him is from Jarvis, and when unwrapped, proves to be a beautifully bound and illustrated book of Keats' poetry.

"I found it in a curio shop, and thought the illustrations were breathtaking. It seems to have been a privately bound copy from someone's personal library, and not from a commercial publisher."

"It's wonderful," Ciel says, admiring the gilt-edged leather tooling of the covers, and the exquisitely painted scenes of golden wheat fields, shaded bowers, violet-eyed ladies of ethereal loveliness, feathered creatures and Roman gods within. "How did you know that I love reading Keats?"

"A lucky guess?" Jarvis smiles, glancing at Sebastian, his secret informant.

Ciel is just as pleased – but for different reasons – with his next present, contained in a rather large box. It is from Soma and Agni, and when carefully opened on the carpet, turns out to be an exquisite Haviland tea set. It is identical to the one Soma smashed in a temper early this year, when he thought that Agni had betrayed him.

"I've owed you this tea set since last winter," Soma says sheepishly. "I hope this makes up for my stupidity that time."

"And for my causing my prince to be so upset as to behave impulsively," Agni adds.

"What is this about?" Aunt Francis asks.

"I... broke Lord Phantomhive's tea set last winter," Soma admits.

"It was a misunderstanding," Ciel tells his aunt. "But it was all cleared up very soon afterwards."

Sebastian's present is next, an attractive kaleidoscope in the shape of a spyglass, through which one may look in at one end to see endless crystal shapes and patterns forming as one rotates the other end.

"How marvellous!" Lizzie cries, when Ciel hands her the glass after looking through it himself. "The colours are so pretty!"

Everyone has a look through the kaleidoscope, and oohs and ahhs over the changing, sparkling shades. Ciel gives Sebastian a discreet smile, which his butler returns, because this is only the devil's public birthday present for his young master. The private present was given this morning – an exquisite silver locket-pin whose central heart-shaped section, surrounded by stylised roses and leaves, opened to reveal a twist of Sebastian's demon hair braided together with strands of Ciel's hair.

"I love it – I love it more than any other object you've ever given me," Ciel had said, kissing Sebastian. "Is this why you've been asking for days off these past months? To find this for me?"

"This is but the first birthday present I'm giving you today. The second will be at your party, and the third, tonight."

Ciel's growing intimacy with his devil in the bedroom did not stop him from blushing then, as the words were spoken, or from colouring now, as he remembers the exchange. Fortunately, no one other than Agni gives him a curious look before Aunt Francis says: "Perhaps it is a coincidence, but the marquess and my son have sent a present that is shaped very much like Sebastian's gift."

She gives a handsomely wrapped parcel to Ciel, who opens it to find a gorgeously made spyglass of polished walnut wood and brass, through which he can look far into the distance and see things as if they were only a few feet in front of him.

"I shall write to thank the marquess and my cousin Edward for this gift, but please also convey my thanks to them once you are home, Aunt Francis."

"The marquess wanted to come with us today, but when he heard that the party would include your staff, he feared that his presence and Edward's would intimidate your household, as they have never met them before."

"I shall call on him and my cousin very soon," Ciel promises.

"Good. Now what do you make of my gift?" Lady Francis asks, handing him an object whose gift-wrapping cannot hide its shape or nature.

"A walking stick!" Ciel exclaims, tearing open the paper and getting to his feet to test its length and sturdiness. "An excellent choice, Aunt Francis. Thank you so much."

"Elizabeth told me that you were at least an inch and a half taller now than when you last purchased a walking stick, so I ordered a longer one."

"It's almost as if it was made to my measure," the earl says, going over to his aunt and giving her a peck on the cheek. He only used to kiss his Aunt An this way, but Aunt Francis has mellowed so much that he now feels he can approach her thus. It is the right move to make, judging from the glow of pleasure in her eyes.

"And my present," Lizzie says, holding out the small box festooned with a blue ribbon, which she had earlier put into his hands by the carriage. "You said you would like mine best of all, and I hope you do!"

"A gift from one's betrothed is, by definition, always the best one," Soma chimes.

"But that shouldn't be the reason for Ciel's liking it best – I hope he really does like it best," Lizzie sighs.

It is a gold fob watch, complete with a gold chain. It not only tells the time, but has an enamelled dial that makes a full rotation every twenty-eight days, so that its cut-away section reveals the phases of the moon painted on an enamelled celestial backdrop.

"It is my favourite present out of all the presents before us here," he tells her honestly. "Thank you, Lizzie. I've never had a watch."

"Now Sebastian won't be only one in the house with a gold watch!" Finny cries.

"My humble butler's watch is but a simple timepiece," Sebastian declares. "Lady Elizabeth's gift is exquisite – a true work of art and impressive mechanical skill, more than fit for an Earl of Phantomhive to carry in his waistcoat pocket. While it would have been most proper for the lady's gift to be the last one opened at this party, I fear to say that there may be another present arriving as we speak."

Sebastian has the marquess' gift of the spyglass lifted to his eye purely for effect – Ciel knows he must have seen something in the distance with his own powerful demon's eyes well before this.

"What is it?" the earl asks.

"Carsten."

"Why is he here?" Ciel asks. Apart from that time when Sebastian told him Carsten had watched them from the forest for a few minutes, the other devil has not come by at all. His name, if not his face, is known to Scotland Yard as Percival Ambrose's associate; he remains wanted in England for the part he played in the Eastons' deaths. Although Ciel has told Randall that Ambrose is dead and buried, and Carsten was under Ambrose's control, Randall cannot make the police and immigration records go away. The earl had assumed that Carsten would either return to hell, or to Germany, where Ambrose has also left him property. The wealth there is all waiting to be claimed now that the London lawyer has sent a copy of the will to the German lawyers handling matters for Ambrose's estate in that country.

"I believe he comes bearing a gift," Sebastian answers.

"Oh?"

"I'm sure lots of people want to give you gifts, Ciel," Lizzie says with a brilliant smile, confident that hers is still the best. "Didn't the Prince of Wales send a present yesterday, and the queen a letter?"

"Yes."

The Prince of Wales had sent a handsome gold fountain pen, with a letter that imparted his birthday wishes in advance, adding closer to the end: "You were perfectly right about that particular matter, and I ought to have listened."

The queen also sent a letter with good wishes for her "dear boy", with no reference to any matters of politics, crime or gossip. However, Ciel knows from what Sebastian has secretly learnt, that the queen and the Prince of Wales have disagreed sharply about how to react to this scandal that has unjustly smeared "Eddy" – the royal family's private name for Prince Albert Victor. The Prince of Wales has in fact been tempted at last to ask the earl to make things "disappear", but the queen has refused, saying to her eldest son that "Eddy needs to learn a thing or two – his dissipated ways will not serve him well when he ascends to the throne after you – this will teach him to conduct himself properly in all arenas, so that no suspicion can attach to him in future."

Victoria has also indicated that she is considering giving Ciel greater power, and possibly raising his rank to that of marquess in a few years, so that he can serve her son and grandson with greater authority after her own reign ends.

"Won't that affect the balance Ambrose was talking about?" Ciel had asked Sebastian, when the devil shared his findings with him.

"Yes. But as I have promised, I will not let anything bad happen to you. I will take on the evil that would otherwise blight you, so the darkness and the powers of the universe will not harm you."

Ciel recalls all that in a swift blur as Carsten approaches the house, and Sebastian meets him at the door, then shows him into the drawing room.

"Lady Francis, you have not met Carsten Wolf, ward of Percival Ambrose."

Aunt Francis has heard about Ambrose and Carsten from Elizabeth, and nods to the "ward", as Soma makes a face at him.

"Lord Phantomhive," Carsten says formally, after nodding back to Lady Francis and ignoring Soma. "I wish you many happy returns of the day. I confess that the present I bring is not from me, but is from Mister Ambrose's estate. I believe he would have liked you to have this."

Ciel receives from him a red velvet drawstring bag, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. When he opens it, he finds nestled inside a cast-gold brooch with a sapphire set in it, showing a nymph rising from a pool. The right half of the oval gold frame surrounding the sapphire pool is in the shape of the nymph's silhouette, while the left half of the frame's edge is formed from the sinuous curves and leaves of an ivy-like plant immortalised in the precious metal.

"It is not a new brooch. In fact, it is very old, something that Ambrose once told me he had purchased in Italy, long before he met me. It has been kept in a chest at his mansion in Potsdam for a very long time. But I hope it is to your liking."

"It is a flawless piece of jewellery. It belongs to you, however."

"Now it belongs to you."

"In that case, I thank you for it. Won't you join us?"

"I only came by to give this to you. I must be away now."

"I shall see you out," Sebastian offers. Ciel knows he intends to question Carsten about why he is here. For he cannot have come by purely to give a birthday present – the earl and the butler both know that much about this demon.

Carsten bows to the small party, and leaves the drawing room, then the manor, accompanied by Sebastian.

***

"Why are you here?" Sebastian asks the other devil in the forest.

"I am the one who should be asking you questions, Sebastian. What are you doing? Do you think I haven't sensed your aura growing? Do you think others haven't? I know you've read all of Ambrose's papers – you've concealed some of them from the child, haven't you? The ones that spell out exactly how to do what I think you are doing–"

"This is not your affair, Carsten. Ambrose told me precisely what needed to be done. I agreed that it was the only way. The child doesn't have to know until it is too late for him to do anything about it."

"You're a fool. If you think you'll get away with this..."

"I know I won't. The whole idea of it is that I won't get away with it. You know that."

"From the moment that brothel scandal drew in the Prince of Wales' eldest son, and the royal family went about their internal bickering and machinations, the imbalance Ambrose was always ranting about began to grow. And at once I sensed it – I sensed you," Carsten snaps, stabbing a black-gloved finger in Sebastian's direction. "I'm telling you that others are taking note too. You'll hardly be able to deal with these others as easily as you did me."

"I know."

"Consider this a friendly warning from one devil to another. By the time the storm breaks, I'll be as far away from you as I can get."

"How kind of you to tell me even this much."

Carsten hisses in disgust and exasperation, and turns on his heel to go, snapping as he leaves: "I told you to leave that brat to die back in the shadow of the spell. It would have spared you a hell of a lot of trouble."

"And I told you that you would never understand. Although I thought you would comprehend something of it, after that." Sebastian points at the garnet ring that still hangs from its silver chain around Carsten's neck.

"Bloody fool," the other devil mutters, before springing into the air and disappearing into the distance.

Sebastian watches him till he can no longer see or sense him, then he returns to the house, where he finds that Ciel has slipped away from the party for a moment so he can meet him at the front door.

"What did he want?" Ciel whispers.

"Nothing that humans ought to know about – we merely had a sharp exchange about devilish frivolities. The things you really should know about, now, I can teach you a little more of later tonight, after all your guests have gone home, and the others are asleep..."

He touches Ciel's cheek where it is heightened in colour, then they move apart quickly when they hear Lizzie's footsteps coming down the passageway that leads to the withdrawing room. They meet her before she can emerge into the foyer, and return with her to the party, where they are ready for the fabulous, five-tiered gateau that Sebastian has baked and covered with dark, glossy, icing and a garden's worth of chocolate roses for his young master's birthday.

***

"Did you really leave the manor so many times these past months just to find this locket for my birthday?" Ciel asks as Sebastian helps him unpin it from the inside of his waistcoat. The earl had insisted on wearing his butler's private gift all day, and Sebastian had had to persuade him to wear it under his clothes, so that Elizabeth would not notice it, insist on opening it, then ask whose lock of hair that was. "I thought that someone with your abilities would require no more than one outing to find a present for me."

"I won't lie to you – it was not always your birthday gift that drew me out of the manor," Sebastian admits as he removes Ciel's waistcoat and suspenders. "There were other reasons, which I do not wish to elaborate on at the moment. But I swear on all that is unholy that prostitutes clad in your jackets had nothing to do with my excursions."

"They'd better not have," Ciel growls, as Sebastian slips off his blue ring and signet ring.

"Would you be jealous if I touched another intimately?" Sebastian asks, helping him out of his shorts.

"I wouldn't like it, but if you had to – like the time you took that nun to bed for information – I would accept it. I'm not as petty as someone who turned green the moment Agni or Baldroy held me in their arms, you know."

"Indeed, you are so much more rational and liberal-minded than I."

"Sarcasm becomes you too well," Ciel murmurs, reaching for Sebastian's tie and using it to pull the devil closer to him even as he begins unknotting the neckwear.

"I know. That's why I love to use it on you."

"Hmm. And what else are you going to use on me tonight?"

"My mouth, of course."

"And?"

"My hands."

"And?"

"And you're still too small for that."

"Am I now?" Ciel asks, ready to demand more, only to be picked up by his demon, held straight up in the air, and assessed by him at arm's length.

"Oh yes, definitely too small," Sebastian says seriously.

Ciel clicks his tongue in annoyance and squirms in the devil's grasp. Sebastian laughs, and at last pulls him close. Ciel latches on to his butler and presses his mouth to his, seeking to merge with him in a way very different from how they would have had Sebastian devoured him.

"Impatient creature," the devil murmurs against the boy's lips as he lies down across the width of the bed and lets Ciel come to rest on top of him.

The boy doesn't rest long. His hands are soon busy, working at Sebastian's waistcoat and shirt buttons, and getting the fob watch chain out of the way. He is still not very good at it, for Sebastian rarely allows him to undress him. But a birthday is a good time to let him have his way, mostly.

His fingers are soon unfastening Sebastian's trousers and drawers, pulling them off his legs with some help from their wearer. The socks go off next, and Sebastian sits up to ease the unbuttoned shirt and waistcoat off his body before reaching over to remove the remainder of Ciel's clothing, for he is still in his shirt and drawers.

Sebastian then crawls on all fours towards and over him, forcing the earl to lie back on the bedcovers. He slips his arms under his body and lifts him so his head rests on the pillows, kissing him on the neck at the same time and drawing a moan of pleasure from him. He moves down to his right collarbone and has just left a perfect little love bite there when he feels Ciel's hand between his legs, encircling his still partially flaccid member and making it come to life.

"No," Sebastian says reluctantly as he feels the boy guiding him towards the tiny opening between his nether cheeks. "I told you that you're still too small."

"Then use my hand," Ciel whispers. "I want to feel a little of what it would be like to control you, just like this, with just one hand."

"Do you?" Sebastian asks, biting back a groan as his master strokes him firmly. He has never allowed Ciel to grasp him like this, and only once has Ciel been brought to completion by Sebastian's hand – their very first time together in the bathtub.

The boy learns well, Sebastian thinks, pushing one more slow, sensuous thrust into the earl's encircling fingers.

"Yes, I do. It's always you turning me into a quivering wreck. My turn now."

"Do you really think I would turn into a quivering wreck in the palm of your hand?" Sebastian asks. The question starts out rhetorical, teasing – for he retains a sense of superiority to this little human in so many ways. But as he gazes into those wide blue eyes that were once windows to a world of hurt, he sees that their blueness has turned to the colour of hope and life, and by the time he finishes asking the question, it is no longer rhetorical. Neither does he feel so superior any more as he says to Ciel: "Remove your hand from me for just a moment, and hold it in front of my face."

Ciel does as he is told. Sebastian licks the palm and fingers of that hand till they are coated with his saliva, then Ciel encircles his girth again with it, keeping his hand close enough to his groin that they both can believe the illusion that the devil is pushing deep into the boy's body.

"Hold me tighter," he whispers. He gasps softly as those delicate fingers close more firmly over him, and he thrusts hard into his hand, his head almost knocking against the bedhead, so much taller is he than Ciel.

He slips his arms under the earl's body again and drags him down, off the pillows, making it easier to arch his back so he can see the boy's face and look into his eyes as he moves in and out of that tight, saliva-slicked circle. Is he frightened? Is this too intense for him? No. He looks engaged, but calm, letting Sebastian set the momentum.

He begins to appear slightly overwhelmed only when Sebastian increases his pace after several minutes and bows his head to Ciel's to moan into his hair. But it is not beyond him to cope with it, and once he comes to grips with the devil's greater urgency, he even lifts his head to position his mouth as close to Sebastian's left ear as he can, to ask: "Wouldn't you like to really do it?"

"Yes," Sebastian grunts. "But not yet."

"Say that first part again."

"Yes, Young Master..."

Another violent thrust that Ciel's hand almost cannot contain, and Sebastian utters a soft cry as he comes. Ciel can feel it coming, for the hard member circled by his fingers seems for a second to become even stiffer, and suddenly, the devil's hot seed is spurting out over him, splattering onto his chest and abdomen, onto Sebastian's own body too. A final, dying throb in his hand, then Sebastian is pulling out, stretching out over him, putting a little weight on him, but not too much, smearing the dashes of semen over both their chests and bellies into one indistinguishable mess.

They lie there quietly for long moments, perfectly content with the other's proximity. Sebastian revels in the scent of the boy under him; Ciel's human senses still cannot detect any of Sebastian's scent, not even with his seed all over his skin, but he feels safe, sheltered by the powerful body covering him.

"You liked that?" Ciel asks at last, raising his left hand to stroke Sebastian's hair, which is both soft and stiff to the touch, like the feathers of a bird.

"Very much," Sebastian replies, lifting his head to look into Ciel's face again, and to kiss him.

"You've really made a mess, though," the earl smiles mischievously, staring down at their bodies.

"Hmm, I must do something about that," Sebastian answers, equally playfully, as he begins to lap up his spilt seed from his young master's chest, cleaning it all away with his tongue, and making Ciel shiver a little with the ticklishness of it.

Down the pale, slender body his tongue works, right down, until Ciel tenses as he reaches his lower belly. Sebastian draws back, reclines on Ciel's left side, and holds the boy's left hand with his right, while his own left hand gently traces a black fingernail down the length of the earl's half-erect penis.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, the question bringing to Ciel's mind what happened in his study months ago, when Sebastian had laid him down on his desk.

This time, Ciel does not panic, because everything has been slowly, gradually leading up to this. "I do," he answers.

"Do you truly want this?" Sebastian asks.

"Yes," he whispers. Despite his apprehension, he is increasingly aroused by the dark-nailed fingertip circling the head of his member, smearing the beads of his pre-ejaculate in a thin film over the smooth tip.

As he grows fully erect, the demon wraps his left hand around his length and strokes him slowly, lightly, for several minutes till he starts to strain for more pace and friction. Then Sebastian raises the pace as he lowers his head to take the very tip of the shaft into his mouth.

Ciel freezes for a second, swamped momentarily by the nightmares of Langton and the occultists hurting him – but Sebastian's right hand clasps his left tightly, and Ciel squeezes back as the nightmares recede. He sees only his devil before him, feels nothing but the wonderful warmth of Sebastian's mouth enveloping him, those sharp fangs carefully covered by his lips. He yields to the seduction of his tongue probing the tiny slit at the tip, the base of the smooth head, dragging sensuously along the looser skin below, then up to the tip again. At first Sebastian uses his mouth in tandem with his left hand, but soon, he shifts to crouch between Ciel's legs, and attends to him with his mouth alone – tongue, lips, palate all forming a hot, wet receptacle that brings the earl to the height of pleasure.

Ciel cries out as Sebastian grips his prick snugly between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and pushes down hard. He tightens his grasp on the devil's hand further as he lets go of his terrors of the past, thrusts hard into Sebastian's mouth with abandon, and feels the tension scaling, engaging every part of his body and mind, hardly recognising the animal moans and whimpers that leave his throat as he rushes towards his peak.

One more firm downstroke of Sebastian's mouth, and Ciel arches his back and comes with a nearly despairing cry, like the moment the knife was driven into him on the altar, except that there is no pain, nor ugliness or horror, only desire and beauty and trust. His seed shoots into the back of Sebastian's mouth, and the devil swallows every spurt of it, cosseting Ciel with his mouth, keeping him secure, until he finishes.

At last, he slips out of Sebastian's mouth, panting heavily. He feels his demon sliding up his body till he is lying alongside him, still holding his left hand tightly. His free hand reaches over at the same time as Sebastian's arm goes over and around him, pulling him close, keeping him safe. And Ciel realises as he slips into a contented sleep that he feels no shame and no distress, only pure security in his devil's unwavering protection.
- 26
- 27
- 28
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

Devilish Impulses