Series: Black Butler
Prompt: #42: Lust
Word Count: 1,352
Characters, Pairings: Sebastian/Ciel
Summary: “Gluttony is your sin of choice, is it not, Sebastian?”
Warnings: tension of the naughty kind, mild language.
Notes: Takes place after Ciel is rescued from Venere.
“You cut it awfully close back there, with that vermin of a man,” Ciel remarks as Sebastian carefully attends to his wounds—nothing major at all, but he’ll be bruised by morning, and he knows he’ll be sore as hell. The cuts aren’t deep, but since several of them are on his forehead and they bleed easily and readily, it gives the impression that he has acquired injuries of a more serious nature even though that isn’t the case at all.
“I do apologize,” Sebastian replies, head dipping in a brief bow. “It was not my intention to alarm you if that is indeed what I did.”
Ciel snorts, and then gasps as one of Sebastian’s hands finds a particular sore spot within the vicinity of his solar plexus. “… I think you were just showing off.”
Sebastian smiles and delicately skims his fingers along the area he just touched—an apologetic gesture, perhaps, for the pain that he (purposefully or inadvertently) caused. “Well, I do know that you enjoy a good show, my Lord, and if I cannot give you that much, what sort of butler would I be?”
Mismatched eyes roll heavenward. “One that isn’t a show-off?” Ciel suggests, and then cringes as Sebastian’s fingers walk delicately along his ribs, presumably to make sure that they all whole, without fractures.
“But then I would not be the butler that I am,” Sebastian argues, though in a very non-argumentative tone—his voice is even and relaxed. “If I were human, I probably would have been swayed by Mr. Venere’s offer, and then where would you be?”
“If you were human, you wouldn’t be my butler,” Ciel retorts. “Humans let their own lusts rule them; they lust after money, power, drugs--”
“And revenge,” Sebastian interrupts, pressing a small piece of gauze to one of the cuts on Ciel’s forehead, which has started bleeding again. “My young master should be quite familiar with that one.”
Ciel grinds his teeth together, annoyed that this damned demon of a butler must always try to get the better of him (and in most cases, he succeeds). “How very fortunate I am, then, to have one such as you serving me—one who is unaffected by lust.” He pauses then, and very nearly smirks. “Gluttony is your sin of choice, is it not, Sebastian?”
The ball is in Sebastian’s court once more, and if the demon is in any way affected by Ciel’s words, it (irritatingly) doesn’t show. He merely pats the cut he is currently attending to one last time before tossing the gauze into the wastebasket. “Lust and Gluttony are born from the same mother,” he replies in that mysterious way of his, giving a veiled explanation that does nothing but raise more questions. “You could, perhaps, call them twins.”
Ciel narrows his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demands as Sebastian straightens, apparently finished with his little medical examination.
“I mean, My Lord, that sometimes those two ‘sins’ overlap. It is hard to distinguish one from the other, being that they are identical in appearance.”
Ciel ponders Sebastian’s (useless) explanation as the demon busies himself with covering Ciel’s bare torso with a clean shirt. He hasn’t even finished working on the buttons yet when Ciel asks, “Are you trying to say that demons fall victim to lust as well as gluttony—just not in the same way humans do?”
“I am not trying to say anything, Young Master,” Sebastian replies. “I am actively saying all that needs to be said. My master just isn’t listening closely enough.”
Ciel bites his tongue and swallows his words of anger, for it will do him no good to show how exasperated he is becoming with Sebastian’s little play on words. “If my butler would speak in something other than riddles--”
“My young master is rather good at riddles, though,” Sebastian interjects. “He is quite clever, after all.”
“Such flattery,” Ciel snidely remarks. “Why not just speak plainly and tell me what you mean?”
Sebastian sighs, as if he, too, is exhausted with this game. “Perhaps if my young master seems unable to learn through explanation… demonstration would be best?”
“Whatever,” Ciel snaps. “Just get to the point, Sebastian.”
Sebastian’s gaze is hooded and his smile is all but sinister as he once again runs gloved fingers along bare skin, and this time, it has nothing to do with checking for broken bones. The (sinful, sinful, wrongright) caress makes Ciel shiver and makes his breath catch—and it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, but it does.
It’s the look in Sebastian’s eyes that offers more comprehension than his words ever could: it is a look of hunger, but not the kind that Ciel is used to seeing. He’s seen women look at Sebastian in much the same manner, though.
“Lust and Gluttony are side-by-side in Hell,” Sebastian murmurs as he resumes buttoning Ciel’s shirt. “And for us demons – on very rare occasions – they come to us hand-in-hand. They are two sides of the same coin.”
Ciel tries to swallow and finds that his mouth is suddenly very dry. He doesn’t know what to say to that, not really, and part of him wonders if Sebastian’s goal is simply to shock him into silence, but demons never lie, right?
Ciel makes a rash decision then, and he doesn’t pause to consider the consequences of his actions. Perhaps not the wisest or safest thing to do, but such games with demons are never truly safe at all, are they?
He reaches up with his right hand and scrubs at his forehead, wiping away dried blood, causing the cuts there to bleed anew. He holds his bloodied hand out to his butler. “Are you hungry, Sebastian?” he asks, voice naught but a whisper as he ventures into unfamiliar, dangerous territory.
“Are you, my Lord?” Sebastian counters, taking the proffered hand in both of his own. He leans in closer, and Ciel can hear his butler’s sharp inhale, can see the way his eyes flash bright scarlet, and it’s a hint of familiarity, though not enough… not when what is not familiar is winning.
“Sebastian…” Ciel doesn’t know what to say now, what to do. He is standing so still that his muscles and joints are beginning to ache from lack of movement, and his words (wherever they are) simply won’t come.
(You have to stop. Don’t stop. Keep going. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t--)
Even though he is master, the choice is not made by him (is not meant for him to make). Sebastian pauses, his lips poised just inches from Ciel’s skin, and he smiles in the same dull way of his (and Ciel might think that his butler is entirely unaffected, if not for the fine tremor in his fingers as he releases Ciel’s hand). “Indulging in dessert before dinner would ruin one’s appetite,” he murmurs.
Ciel feels disappointment and relief in equal measure, and he gazes down at his feet as Sebastian cleans the blood off of his fingers and his forehead with a damp cloth before excusing himself to prepare a – very late – dinner.
He is proud that he remains standing for as long as he does after Sebastian leaves the room—a full minute-and-a-half. Then, stiff muscles relax (perhaps too much) and he slides gracelessly to the floor, trying his best to get his breathing back under control.
Ciel tells himself that this moment of weakness is only due to the fact that he is very tired and it has been a very long day—which, he is and it has, but self-deception has never been his strong suit.
Sebastian’s words replay over and over in his head, and he can’t stop them, can’t quiet them. And the more he ponders his servant’s words….
Heat slips down his back, coiling around the curvature of his spine. Knowledge begins to slowly trickle down and in, like fresh rainwater dripping into one’s home via well-hidden cracks in the roof.
No, he doesn’t fully comprehend—not yet.
But he is certainly beginning to understand.
It would seem that I am incapable of writing a ‘normal’ fic featuring these two. >.>;