The Muted Cries of Something Not Yet Lost (Sebastian/Ciel)
.
The Muted Cries of Something Not Yet Lost
PG; 340 words
Kuroshitsuji: Sebastian/Ciel pre-slash
He wanted to ask if it would hurt. But he wouldn't dare.
Prompt: Off
For urae, with love. Day three.
He peeled back the eye shield, fingers cool on Ciel's face, and body bent face-level, in some caricature of an amiable bow. Ciel stared into his dark eyes, unwavering. He'd never noticed before, but Sebastian's eyes glimmered.
Not in a warm way, of course. That would be absurd.
(Ciel didn't bother with trying to dupe himself. That was for fools with hopes and dreams, and Ciel was too mature and world-learned for such childish antics.)
"Your soul will be so tasty," Sebastian said, voice clear and low and unmistakable. "Did you know young ones taste the best?"
Ciel opened his mouth, to snap that of course he didn't know because he wasn't a demon and couldn't Sebastian just get on with the undressing and readying for bed, like a proper butler, but he realized what exactly Sebastian had said and his voice vanished.
Surely, he'd known. He knew he would die young--why else would Sebastian have agreed to such an arrangement? Sebastian would not wait around fifty years, just for one soul. But it was different knowing subconsciously and then having the demon who will kill you confirm it.
He wanted to ask if it would hurt. But he wouldn't dare.
He just broke eye contact, tilting his head up, and held out his arms, shaking them significantly. A smirk crawled up Sebastian's face. Sebastian was enjoying himself.
"Then I hope I don't disappoint," Ciel drawled, deliberately dismissive, while Sebastian unbuttoned Ciel's shirt and slid the sleeves down his arms, movements slow and silky.
Sebastian flashed him a grin just as slow, just that side of creepy that had Ciel fighting back a chill, fighting back the impulse to retreat.
"Young master," breathed Sebastian, leaning in and reaching his arms around Ciel to lift the nightshirt off the bed. He puffed air against Ciel's cheek until Ciel turned to look at him with a properly irritated tilt to his features. Sebastian was too close, his eyes dark, unwavering, but Ciel met the gaze head-on.
"I don't believe you could disappoint me."
The Muted Cries of Something Not Yet Lost
PG; 340 words
Kuroshitsuji: Sebastian/Ciel pre-slash
He wanted to ask if it would hurt. But he wouldn't dare.
Prompt: Off
For urae, with love. Day three.
He peeled back the eye shield, fingers cool on Ciel's face, and body bent face-level, in some caricature of an amiable bow. Ciel stared into his dark eyes, unwavering. He'd never noticed before, but Sebastian's eyes glimmered.
Not in a warm way, of course. That would be absurd.
(Ciel didn't bother with trying to dupe himself. That was for fools with hopes and dreams, and Ciel was too mature and world-learned for such childish antics.)
"Your soul will be so tasty," Sebastian said, voice clear and low and unmistakable. "Did you know young ones taste the best?"
Ciel opened his mouth, to snap that of course he didn't know because he wasn't a demon and couldn't Sebastian just get on with the undressing and readying for bed, like a proper butler, but he realized what exactly Sebastian had said and his voice vanished.
Surely, he'd known. He knew he would die young--why else would Sebastian have agreed to such an arrangement? Sebastian would not wait around fifty years, just for one soul. But it was different knowing subconsciously and then having the demon who will kill you confirm it.
He wanted to ask if it would hurt. But he wouldn't dare.
He just broke eye contact, tilting his head up, and held out his arms, shaking them significantly. A smirk crawled up Sebastian's face. Sebastian was enjoying himself.
"Then I hope I don't disappoint," Ciel drawled, deliberately dismissive, while Sebastian unbuttoned Ciel's shirt and slid the sleeves down his arms, movements slow and silky.
Sebastian flashed him a grin just as slow, just that side of creepy that had Ciel fighting back a chill, fighting back the impulse to retreat.
"Young master," breathed Sebastian, leaning in and reaching his arms around Ciel to lift the nightshirt off the bed. He puffed air against Ciel's cheek until Ciel turned to look at him with a properly irritated tilt to his features. Sebastian was too close, his eyes dark, unwavering, but Ciel met the gaze head-on.
"I don't believe you could disappoint me."