Bloody Business

Title: “Bloody Business”
Series: Kuroshitsuji
Date begun: November 2, 2009
Date completed:
Genre: Crime, Romance

Summary: In the wake of the Ripper Murders, the Queen orders Ciel to root out the head of a male prostitution ring. When people in high places are implicated, Ciel and Sebastian are put into a compromising position.

Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. Things have been rather hectic. But you all should rejoice, for I have brought you something rather special. There are no fewer than three erotic scenes in this chapter, the most I have ever done. But it's really just an appetizer. They haven't yet gotten to the brothel, so I'm sure you can see how that might be a bit more revealing. For those of you that wanted to see the kid going through puberty, it's hitting him like a Mack truck in this chapter, so be prepared. That, and Sebastian has a very good time...all by himself.

Thanks to everyone for the reviews. They are great encouragement.

Part III: What Passes Between Men

“You did what?” Ceil asked, his throat still sore and voice garbled; he had just choked on his tea. He wasn't entirely certain, but did Sebastian just say that he had done that...and in the clerk's office? Sebastian only smiled. “I can't believe you. You're like a dog, attaching yourself to the nearest person's leg.” Or a cat that rubs his face on you...He thought that such an analogy might be more fitting. But as he understood it, cats rubbed their face on things to claim them. It was a symbol of ownership. Sebastian did not seem as if he really wanted to keep Newlove around. His deviant behavior had a purpose, he supposed. Huffing in an irritated voice, Ceil conceded, “Well. At least you managed to get close to him. What about the house in Cleveland Street?”

Sebastian stood nearby as usual, ready to give aid if need be. Still smiling, he set down the large napkin he had been holding. “I expressed my regret over the necessity of being lonely after my inspection of the office ends, and Newlove suggested that we meet at my home. That was obviously not acceptable, since my home is here. I asked if there was a safe, discreet location where we could meet, and he told me about the house in Cleveland Street.”

Ciel fairly gaped. How could it be that easy? And if Sebastian was to meet with Newlove there, then how was he supposed to get in? He said as much, practically throwing his arms up in the air, sloshing tea onto the carpet.

Sebastian bent to clean up the mess, and said mildly, “I believe that I have taken care of that, Young Master.” He pressed the napkin into the short, brightly colored pile of the rug, and looked up at Ciel. “Newlove said that he would be busy, and would not be able to meet with me right away. I, of course, was again regretful. But then I asked about you. He said he did not know you, but had seen you at the Telegraph Office. It is certain that he will approach you, soon.”

Ciel's eyebrows furrowed. “Me?” he asked, “I thought that you were the one who was supposed to take me with you to the house?”

The butler paused in his cleaning, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Inspector Abberline has informed me that Newlove was the one to recruit the boys. It would be highly unlikely that this Hammond fellow will simply not notice something like me showing up lacking introduction, and with my own...entertainment. The way Newlove described the process was basically that he finds boys who work at the Telegraph Office, and tests them to see if they are worth using at Cleveland Street.”

The words rolled around in his head for a few seconds before he fully understood what Sebastian meant. And when the meaning of the word “test” came to the fore, his breath caught. “You mean...I'm going to have to do that...with him?” Ciel shook his head. “I can't. I just can't.” Of course he couldn't. The words could not even be forced from his mouth. He didn't feel the cup in his hand, or the chair under him, and a watery sort of queasiness developed in his stomach. Closing his eyes, Ciel fought off a bout of dull nausea.

“Shall we tell Her Majesty that we have failed in our task, then?” Sebastian's voice was silkily accusatory, the tone that usually goaded Ciel into doing things he usually would not. He did not open his eyes. If he did, he would be drawn further into the scheme, and he did not want that. “My Master is so young...” Sebastian said lowly from nearby, “Perhaps this is beyond your capabilities. If he does approach you, then simply deny him. I will find another way into the house on Cleveland Street.” Ciel felt his guts twist. It was the pain of guilt, an emotion he rarely experienced. He opened his eyes, hoping that he would be spared any wounded looks.

His butler's red eyes did not look hurt. They looked...disappointed. Why? Had Sebastian hoped to destroy what little was left of the innocence in him by turning him into a common whore? Did he want to see just how much sin Ciel's soul could be crammed with before he took it? He did not want his virtue to be taken from him in such a way. It would be no better than being raped. Her Majesty commanded, and he had no choice but to obey...but this? Being forced into intimacy with a man he did not know, and who had been with so many others? The entire situation made him feel violated, vulnerable in ways that should not occur.

Questions swirled in his mind, and he sat frozen in his chair, holding his nearly empty teacup, and staring out into the space between himself and Sebastian. Nothing made sense. Well, in theory, it was a good plan. He would let this man do as he wanted, and pretend to enjoy it. This would gain him entry to the house in Cleveland Street, and when Sebastian met him there, they could investigate the stories that the other boys had given. Sound enough tactics, but it did not take into account that the most important piece to that puzzle might not want to fit into place. If he were sane, he should tell Newlove where he could shove his perverted fancies, but then they would get absolutely nowhere in their investigation.

“I...” He began, unsure how to let out the words of the decision that was forming in his mind. Sebastian was possibly they only one that might understand how he felt compelled to do this. Ciel hoped that he would, because what he was about to say might forever change their relationship. “I can not back down,” he said firmly, “This would be nothing, when compared to the indignities that I have suffered.”

Sebastian's eyes briefly flashed a dangerous, almost virulent red before he said, “Young Master, you do not realize, I believe, what passes between men in such a situation. Your body will be violated in ways that you have yet to endure, and it may be necessary for these things to occur more than once.” Ciel could not comprehend why Sebastian was now attempting to convince him not to carry on with the plan, since he was only a moment ago so eager to see him defiled.

Sticking out his jaw petulantly, he said in a tight voice, “I have some little idea as to the process of such relations.”

“But,” he watched as Sebastian abandoned the napkin on the floor and sidled up to kneel very close to the chair. One hand rested on the chair's upholstered arm, and the other reached forward to brush gloved fingers over the line of Ciel's jaw. “But would you want to have that man touching you...in places that not even you have done? A man whose name you barely know, whose hands are alien to you, and who will care nothing for your pleasure? Is that your wish?” The soft cotton of Sebastian's glove slid lower, grazing down his neck until it entered Ciel's open collar. A feeling he did not understand, half dizzy and hot, began to suffuse his body.

The dizziness faded away, leaving behind heat, which began to pool in his stomach. Ciel shifted in his seat, trying to make himself more comfortable. His trousers were beginning to feel a bit snug. Sebastian's fingers moved lower still, buttons falling open in their wake, exposing the fair skin of his chest to the comparative chill of the room. His flesh had suddenly become oddly sensitized to the way the butler was touching him, and he let out a small sigh.

Sebastian abruptly ceased his impromptu exploration of Ciel's chest, and pulled back his hand. Surprise filled Sebastian's face before he regained his composure. “I momentarily forgot myself. Please forgive me, Young Master...”

--

*Sebastian could have kicked himself. His master sat in the wing-back chair, firelight illuminating his delicate features. A dazed expression lingered, and he seemed breathless. It had been the thought of other hands touching the porcelain skin of his master's body that had driven him this far. Anger boiled up hot and fierce in his belly at the mere suggestion that Henry Newlove might do to his master that which he could not. And so he had done the unthinkable; Sebastian had touched, and to his surprise Ciel's body had responded. But the boy did not understand what was happening. He could not possibly know how much the butler was tempted, or how much restraint it took to stop himself from...

But it was better not to think of these things. There had to be another way to get the boy into the house. He would think of something. Or else, he could simply tell Newlove that he had approached Ciel on his own, and that all there was left to do was to get him to the house in Cleveland Street. Somehow, Sebastian doubted that Newlove would buy into such a story. And no matter what happened, something untoward was going to happen to the master of the Phantomhive estate, but time would tell when and how.

“How does Newlove test the boys?”

Sebastian's thoughts ground to a halt, and he blinked at the very serious look in his Master's face. “Young Master, please, do not trouble yourself--”

A small, pale hand shot forward and gripped the collar of his shirt. Sebastian was jerked unceremoniously forward, the arm of Ciel's chair digging into his ribs, and was suddenly faced with the full force of an icy blue glare not five inches away. “Tell me, Sebastian,” the boy growled, his breath warm on the butler's face, “My patience wears thin.” Perhaps the young man meant for this action to be intimidating. It was possible, had he been anyone other than himself, that it might have worked. However, being what he was, the close proximity had an entirely different effect.

There was no amount of restraint that could keep his voice from hinting at his desires as he explained in very blunt language, “Newlove takes them into a lavatory and they perform sexual acts of various kinds. I suppose that it depends upon what kind of time is available to him, but he has said that some boys perform fellatio on him, while others allow him to penetrate them.” The glare that Ciel had directed toward him fell into a look that seemed a combination of shock and resignation. A small, shaky sigh issued from between thin lips as he watched, and he could smell tea on Ciel's breath.

A devilish smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he found a new idea forming in his mind. Sebastian thought that it may be possible for them to avoid his Master needing to do either of the things that Newlove described. “I believe,” he began, leaning closer, “that I have an alternative course of action. Mr. Newlove understands my...greedy nature. Would my Master be very grateful to me if I were able to procure him entry into the house in Cleveland Street, without the need for such contact with him?”

Ciel's voice came haltingly, and color suffused his cheeks. “I...” The eyelid of his visible eye began to droop lower; what little was still visible of the blue iris became slightly darkened. “Yes...” Sebastian's eyes strayed to his Master's lips, still parted, and so close. They beckoned him, forbidden fruit ripe with the promise of pleasure beyond imagining. The breaths that came ever faster from between those lips were sweet to the point of intoxication, and he felt himself being drawn in. “S...Sebastian?” His young Master's questioning voice cut through his desire, bringing him abruptly back to himself. The short trip from lust to realization was like being dunked bodily into the frigid water of the Thames in December.

Blinking rapidly to clear his head, he took a good look at Ciel. The boy looked...for the love of all life in the universe, he looked ready to be taken. Not only that, but he found himself more than willing to oblige the unspoken need. Sebastian straightened, then stood, and coughed into his fist. “Let us get you dressed for bed, My Lord. I will put my plan into action tomorrow, and you will never be touched by Henry Newlove.”

--

Ciel sat on the bed's edge. Sebastian had been strange today. He had stared at him when he was sleeping, and just a few moments earlier, he had been close...very close. That hot feeling in his belly had become so intense that it had been almost unbearable. Now, as Sebastian bent to remove his shoes, his body began to do even stranger things. The brush of fingertips against his ankle sent a tingling sensation up his leg, and he shivered when his left stocking slid down, gathered neatly into gloved hands.

He rose to allow the removal of his trousers, and very nearly jumped when Sebastian's one of hands touched the area just below his navel. A short bout of dizziness stole over him, and he felt a strange pressure in his groin. If Sebastian noticed this reaction, he did nothing to show it, for he simply continued to unbutton the front of Ciel's trousers. Stepping out of his pants, he stood next to his bed in nothing but his undergarments and shirt, feeling quite cold, and a bit embarrassed. His hands came up in front of him, fidgeting a bit, until Sebastian began to unbutton his shirt to take it off, as well.

The hot, tight feeling between his legs seemed to grow, with each button the butler unfastened, and when the cloth parted, one of the plackets brushed against his right nipple, and he drew a sharp breath. Still oblivious to his odd behavior, Sebastian set aside the remainder of his clothing from the day and took up his long night-shirt. He began sliding the garment over Ciel's head when the young man noticed that his butler's eyes were glowing slightly. He had seen this phenomenon before, he was certain, but could not place under what circumstances.

With a shaky hand, he removed his eye patch, and placed it on the night table. Sebastian helped him into bed, and pulled up the covers. “Have...” The butler leaned forward and brushed hair away from Ciel's eyes, fingers lingering on his skin for an instant before moving away again to take up the candle, “...pleasant dreams, Young Master.” And then Sebastian was gone, taking with him the light, but leaving confusion behind, which settled onto Ciel like a soaking-wet blanket, clinging and tangling him in its folds and not letting go.

--

Sebastian closed the door to his small room and pressed his back against it. Now in the safety of his private sanctum, he let out the shaky breath he had been holding. Heart pounding, he reached down to turn the lock. His restraint was slipping. Sebastian removed his jacket, hanging it on the valet in the corner, remembering how he had touched his master so subtly, so stealthily that Ciel could only have thought it to be an accident. But accidental it was not. It had been with devilish intent that his fingers had come so very close to touching the fledgling erection that had pressed against the confines of his master's undergarments. He had indulged himself, letting his hands caress slender calf muscles, and had used the drape of the youth's clothing to molest his sensitive areas.

The poor boy did not understand what was happening to his own body. Sebastian had seen the expression of shock and confusion in his features. When he had been in the drawing room, and his master had looked so delicious, so ready...he had very nearly been unable to stop himself. Sebastian wanted so badly to strip away not only the clothing Ciel wore, but also his dignity and self-control. His deepest desire, very dark indeed, was to make his Master beg and plead, to cry his name loudly as he drove them both to the edge of insanity with the sheer pleasure produced by the joining of their bodies.

Pulling off his gloves, Sebastian placed them into the small ceramic tray on a plain wooden table at his bedside. He then unbuttoned his waistcoat, and hunt it with the jacket. He was in the midst of removing his pants when he remembered the lusty way that innocent voice hat uttered the word, “Yes.” Need, hot and violent, rose up in him more suddenly than he remembered it doing in a very long time. When he had added his trousers to the rest, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it into a hamper basket in his wardrobe. A moment later, his undergarments joined the shirt, and he stood naked in the relative chill of the room.

His mind played with him, creating images that would never be. He saw Ciel touching himself, exploring clumsily the pleasures of the flesh while groaning his name. He could no more banish those sweet fancies than he could change himself into an elephant, and he knew that he would not, even if he were able. Sebastian closed his eyes, and let these imaginings wash over him. Slowly, he grasped his own heated flesh, and tortured himself yet again with things that he could not have.

--

Ciel sat propped on his pillows, the covers pulled down, staring at himself in the moonlight. That hot, dizzy feeling was still there, and now he had...his...it was swollen. It almost hurt, and when he had opened his underwear to look, it had sprung up, standing as stiffly as a post. Almost frightened to do so, he reached out with a finger and touched it. This sent a wave of shocking pleasure through his body, and he gasped. Blinking with surprise as he recovered, Ciel ran the tips of his fingers over it, and gave a short moan.

It felt so good...he wanted to keep touching it. Slowly, he slid his fingers over the tip, which had begun to be moistened by liquid that leaked out. “Ah...” The pleasure sparked along his nerves, threatening to set him afire, but he thought that if it were to occur, he might be able to enjoy such a burn. A few moments later, he used his thumb to spread the liquid collecting at the slit, and gently wrapped his hand around the length of it.

Ever so slightly, he moved his fisted hand toward himself, and cried out softly in a wordless, animal-like way. His hand began to move on its own, as if by instinct, stroking at his hard flesh, and Ciel felt as if he might explode. Millenia of inborn knowledge passed down through countless men forced his hand to quicken its pace, and he held his erection tighter. A low growl rumbled from his throat, and he began to wish for release from the immense pressure building up within him.

--

Sebastian knelt on the floor, his forehead pressed into the coverlet of his narrow bed. These sensations were beyond his control. He had been imagining Ciel on his hands and knees, looking innocently over one shoulder as he begged to be penetrated. His eyes had been guileless, his small penis erect and dripping with arousal.

“Please, Sebastian,” Ciel pouted, “I feel so empty...” Sebastian settled behind his young lover, his bare hands reaching out to slide over chilled skin. Gooseflesh pebbled beneath his fingers, and muscles trembled. “I need it...” he was beginning to whine, almost to sob, now, his erection an angry red. “I want it...” For a long moment, he admired the view. No one else would ever see Ciel Phantomhive this way. Flushed, begging, and needy, he gazed upon the butler with desperation. Finally, he cried, “Give it to me!”

“As my Master wishes,” he murmured before he took hold of the boy's slender hips and pressed forward, his erection entering heat, wetness, and tightness beyond belief. Without care for his Master's pleasure or safety, he pulled back before thrusting forward again.

A wordless scream ripped the air, and Ciel's hands scrabbled for purchase on the rug. “Oh, God,” his Master cried, “Yes...Just like this. I--” Sebastian repeated his motion, and the boy uttered a string of filthy words he had not believed any man of good breeding to know. “It's so good...so full...don't stop. I'm so close...Deeper, Sebastian! I need it deeper!” His arousal throbbed, jerking so that he very nearly came. Ciel truly was sobbing now. Bracing his arms, he thrust back against Sebastian's hips, impaling himself with the older man's erection and crying out with a sound like a moan mingling in a hoarse yell, “Harder! Just...oh, y--” Complying with his Master's demands, he drove his hips forward with brutal force, the sound of flesh against flesh, heavy breathing and repeated screams all there was to be heard.

With one final rending wail, Ciel spilled his release onto the floor, his inner muscles clamping down and pulling Sebastian's orgasm from him, as well.

Eyes opening, he saw merely the pale blue of his bed covers. Sebastian heaved a sigh. How was he going to get through this investigation? If he did not find something or someone to distract him from this crippling desire, he would either go mad or force himself on Ciel. It did not help that there was a chance that Newlove would refuse his plan. The young clerk would find himself without a head on his shoulders if he were to touch his master. Shaking his head at his own unwarranted possessiveness, Sebastian looked at the dark wooden floor before his knees, now stained with thick puddles of semen.

“Hopeless...”

--

Ciel gasped, unable to breathe fast enough. His body was on fire, and he could not stop the jerking motion that his hips had begun to make, grinding into his hand's grip. What had started this? Had it been something he ate? No, that was certainly not the case. He bit his lip, drawing blood as he remembered. It had been Sebastian. They had been in the drawing room, and...it was the way those hands moved, touching his chest. His skin still seemed to tingle with the feeling. His eyes shut tight, and he saw his butler again, only now the man was looking down at him with a smile that seemed to exude danger, but it only made Ciel's arousal grow. What might it feel like, if it were another person's hand touching him?

What if Sebastian did it? In his mind's eye, Ciel saw the man settle himself onto the bed, his smile growing slightly as his fingers moved to replace those of his master. “Ah...” the boy groaned, watching the imaginary Sebastian massage his bare fingers over the darkened red skin of his penis. The pressure he had been feeling suddenly grew, and without warning, he felt his entire body tense up. “Sebastian...” he breathed, barely able to make much sound through the crippling waves of torturous pleasure that washed over him. Fire blazed down his spine, and his back arched until it was all gone and he knew no more.

--

The morning was clear and bright as Sebastian walked down the hallway, carrying his Master's breakfast tray. Yet again, Bard had managed to make the eggs slightly a bit too crisp at the edges, but once they were trimmed of the blackness, they were fine. Finni was, as he saw quite easily through the window, trimming the hedges on the southern edge of the garden with the smallest pair of shears available, so as to avoid his more artistic impulses. He was just contemplating the location of the maid when he opened the door to Ciel's bedchamber, and all thought ceased.

There, still propped on the pillows was a half-naked Ciel, hands at his sides and head lolling back, with his undergarments wide open. His chest and stomach were covered in a white flaky substance that could only be dried semen. Breath catching in his throat, Sebastian set down the tray quietly and approached the bed. His master, who still slept, had apparently been more aroused by their near-miss than he had anticipated. But as much as he would love to stand where he was, admiring the state of disarray in which he had found the boy, there was much to be done, and very little time to get ready.

So, it was with a heavy heart that Sebastian reached down and touched Ciel's shoulder. “Wake up, Young Master,” he said, “It is time for breakfast...and I dare say you would wish to wash up.”

Blue eyes blinked open, clearly not wanting to focus. Still more than half asleep, the boy said, “Why don't you clean it yourself...you did it, anyway.”

Not without some curiosity, he gently prodded, “Did I, now?”

A short groan came from Ciel's throat, and he wriggled onto his side, causing his undergarments to fall off of one hip, exposing half of his right buttock. “Yes...you did...hands...soft...warm...touching me...everywhere. Felt good.” Astonished, Sebastian stared down at the relaxed, half-smiling features of his master. The boy had indeed touched himself, masturbating while thinking of him.

“I am sure it did feel good,” he mused aloud, “but would you let me do it again?”

“Mm.” Ciel hummed, “More...not enough...”

Was he dreaming? Could this be real? Sebastian's hands reached out, gloved fingertips grazing over a slender chest, his thumb stroking Ciel's nipple. The youth, still half-asleep, groaned heavily, his body arching into the butler's touch. Warmth radiated from his Master's skin, and with sudden and debilitating clarity, he realized that no, this was not a dream. Jerking his hands away, Sebastian forced himself to move away and throw open the curtains. Pale gray light flooded the room, and he heard Ciel groan behind him. Clearing his throat forcibly, he did the only thing he could. “Young Master,” he began, making his voice sound testy, “If you do not get up soon and...clean yourself up, you will be late for work, and that will draw unwanted attention to yourself, and may invite scrutiny upon both of us.”

“Bollocks!” He heard from behind him, and Sebastian turned around just in time to see his Master jump out of bed, gripping his undergarments to keep them from falling down around his ankles. For about half a second, Ciel stared at him, his face flaming bright red. “I'll be right back,” the boy said hurriedly, and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Sebastian's lips drew down into a frown.

--

Slamming the door behind him, Ciel looked down at himself. He was breathing heavily, and was practically naked. Not to mention that he had dreamed of such perfectly horrible things about his butler, which caused him to be in his current state. In his dream, he had...oh, God! There was a whitish, itchy crust on his chest, and he just knew that Sebastian had seen it. At least he had not been privy to the dream. The way Sebastian's bare hands had felt on his skin was enough to drive him nearly mad. He let go of his clothing, and it fell freely to the floor. A pitcher and basin sat on the marble counter, and he poured a draught of cold water into it before dipping in a clean washcloth. The water was cold on his skin, but perhaps that was what he needed to fully bring him back to reality and away from such dangerous fancies. Ciel pulled on a robe from behind the door, for he had grown slightly chilly.

Taking long and calming breaths, he was able to ensure that by the time he emerged from the bathroom he was entirely able to look Sebastian in the eye without turning the color of a strawberry. Sebastian was standing nearby the freshly made bed, a far-off look in his eyes as he fingered the shirt Ciel would wear that day. What could have made the man so distant? He usually had full control of himself. Perhaps he had been playing with one of those blasted felines.

Ciel decided to put it out of his mind, at least for now. If he was caught lolly-gagging in dreamland while around the other telegraph boys, there might be repercussions beyond a dead rat in his hat. They might steal his meager lunch, or dump more work on him. He allowed Sebastian to dress him, and then sat down to eat. When he was finished, he bade farewell to his butler and began the long journey through London to the Central Telegraph Office. If he had been able, Ciel would gladly have taken the carriage, but there was far too much chance of someone seeing him. By the time he entered the street where the CTO was located, his feet already hurt. Luckily, it would take somewhere close to an hour before any of the telegrams were ready for delivery.

In the mean time, he thought he might take advantage of the fact that he had some free time. After going to check in with his supervisor, Ciel deposited his small lunch bundle into the footlocker that was provided him. He then went down the service hallway and took a stair to the nearest lavatory. From the moment he took possession of the sheaf of telegram slips, he would be on the move nonstop. There would be no time for a bathroom break. He wondered if he might ever get used to the whole working thing. That is not to say that he did not tire himself out on a regular basis when doing things for Her Majesty, but it was not something that could be considered “work”.

The lavatory was deserted, and he made his way across the white tiled space to the urinal trough. Unfastening his pants took only a second, and then he was letting go of his morning tea. Ciel gave a contented sigh, and he heard the door open. Footsteps crossed the room, and a man came to stand at the trough, as well. While he was not completely accustomed to public restrooms, the young man counted himself among those versed in their workings and etiquette. It would appear, however, that the taller gentleman standing to his right was not. For instance, it was considered rather off-color to watch another man urinate. This man was doing precisely that. From the corner of his eye, Ciel could see the man vaguely, and follow his eye-line downward.

Once through relieving himself, Ciel replaced his clothing and arranged himself properly before moving over to the bank of sinks along the adjacent left-hand wall. When he turned the tap, the water began to flow, and he rinsed his hands thoroughly. Flicking off the extra water, he did not notice the man come to stand behind him. It was not until he reached for the towel on a hook over the sink that he looked up at the mirror and found himself staring into intense green eyes.

“Well, hello, there.” he heard the man say as he pressed closer. Ciel recognized him now. It was Henry Newlove. He blinked innocently, trying to seem unsure. “What's your name, then? I'm Henry.”

Adopting a slight stammer, Ciel replied, “Quentin...my-my name is Quentin.”

Smiling in a highly disarming fashion, Newlove looked at him closely. “Well, Quentin...do you work for the Telegraph Office? You seem so young...” Ciel answered that yes, he was working for the office, and that though he was young, he was as grown up as any other man. “But should you not be in school?” Newlove persisted, and the young Phantomhive knew precisely where this conversation was going.

“I would be,” Ciel said with a touch of sadness, “but my father has run off with a barmaid, and mother is ill. If I don't work, then we won't have anything to live on at all.” Newlove's eyes seemed genuinely sympathetic. The clerk had drawn nearer still, and Ciel could feel body heat seeping through his clothing.

“You poor thing,” Newlove murmured, one hand reaching to touch the boy's cheek. “And such a nice, lovely boy...” Fingers grazed lightly over his skin, and it tickled a bit. Suppressing a shiver at the feeling, Ciel did his best to look confused. “I would not want you to waste away for lack of funds,” his voice lowered, as did his face, and he nuzzled the side of Ciel's hair. “I have a friend...he has seen you here. He may have a bit of work for you, if you are interested.”

“What sort of work?” he asked, trying to sound eager enough that the man might tell him.

“It is not difficult,” Newlove said into his hair, the hand not caressing Ciel's cheek now moving to toy with the fabric of his trouser front. “Do you know what men and women do together when they've put out the lights?” Heart beating fast, Ciel nodded. “Well, this is...similar. You might even enjoy yourself. I am certain that my friend would be sure of that.” Lips touched his ear, and Newlove's hand suddenly reached down to grasp him through his trousers. “My, my...I dare say that you would enjoy yourself.” The hand began to knead at his groin, and Ciel let out a startled sound as pleasure spiked unbidden through him. “Might I see how suited to this kind of work you are?”

Ciel was taking in quick, panting breaths now, and could barely nod his head in assent. He felt teeth on his earlobe as his trousers were unfastened.

--

Sebastian pushed open the door and stepped through, letting it swing shut behind him. He had heard quite enough from his position in the hallway. His master was trapped between a sink and Newlove's body, his eyes glazed with a foreign expression and the older man's hand in the front of his trousers. “Mr. Newlove,” he said snippily, “might I remind you of what we discussed?” Newlove was suddenly halfway across the room, and edging toward the door. He seemed uneasy, and well he should be. For the moment, however the man was safe. There were too many possible witnesses. “I believe that you should exit the room, Mr. Newlove. The boy has tongue enough to speak with me himself.”

Henry Newlove began walking to the door, and when he reached Sebastian's side, the butler-turned-inspector whispered, “I will see if the boy is suitable. If he is, then I will give him the address.” The shorter man nodded, and was gone from the room immediately. He did not, however, go far. Sebastian could hear him stop just outside the door to listen.

Ciel was about to speak when Sebastian put a finger over his lips for silence. He then motioned toward the door, indicating that the man was still outside, listening. Blue eyes grew large with comprehension, and then seemed resigned. “What kind of work do you have for me, sir?” The boy was an excellent actor when he put his mind to the task. He sounded exactly like a down-on-luck street urchin.

Sebastian walked forward, coming to stand very close. “The kind that pays very well.”

“I understand that much, sir,” the boy replied somewhat cheekily, “but what am I to do?”

Without pause, he answered, “The same type of work that is done in brothels,” Ciel let out an appropriately scandalized gasp, and he went on. “You are so young...so sweet...I would give you a sovereign if you were to lie with me.” The boy stammered, unintelligible words tumbling over themselves. “Or do you prefer Mr. Newlove? I would understand if you did. Henry has his charms, as well.”

Ciel replied with some haste, “No...it's not that...I just...who are you?”

“You may call me Sebastian.” He crooked a finger at Ciel. “Come here, boy.” Sebastian could not be certain that the man was not watching at the small crack that was left in the door, but he would prefer not to take any chances. He positioned his master with his back against the sink, and instructed him to brace his hands on the porcelain behind him. “Stay quiet, please.”

The boy's trousers were already unfastened, so he merely reached within, leaning down to whisper in Ceil's ear. “My apologies, young master. Newlove may be watching.”

Just as quietly, he heard his master's reply. “I knew the risks.”

The conversation over, he then bent to his work. On his knees in the lavatory, he pulled back layers of fabric to expose his master's already leaking erection. With outward calm, he took it into his mouth. A choking noise issued from his master, and he looked up to see Ciel slap a hand over his mouth to stifle any other sounds. Sebastian sucked gently, and felt the young man try to thrust into his mouth. His hands were trembling slightly as he used them to still his master's hips.

He took in all of Ciel's penis, sucking and bobbling his head, then freed a hand to graze fingertips softly over the boy's scrotum. A sharp intake of breath was all the warning he got before he felt his throat flooded with Ciel's salty release. It was likely the most difficult thing he had ever done to simply straighten himself and re-arrange the clothing he had put in a state of disarray. “You are indeed...quite to my liking. Would you be interested in working for me?”

Nodding dazedly, Ciel said in a tone tinged with receding desire, “Yes...will you do that again?”

Sebastian smiled, “And so much more.”