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The journey to Cambridge is a few hours by carriage, and Ciel is beginning to resent his boredom. It was only him and Sebastian on this trip, so he didn’t even have the servants’ chatter to entertain him. Listlessly, he stares out the window, watching the trees pass. Across from him, Sebastian watches him silently.
“What?” Ciel asks petulantly. It’s not uncommon for Sebastian to stare, but Ciel is so bored right now that even arguing with his butler is entertainment. Though he’d never admit it to the butler, talking to Sebastian is one of his favorite pastimes. The demon is the perfect mix of infuriating and intriguing.
“I am wondering over your state, my lord.”
That’s not the answer he expected. Usually, Sebastian passes off his staring as hunger. “What?”
“You look flushed. I am worried that a fever might be coming on.”
Ciel puts a hand to his cheek, even knowing it won’t offer any insight. “Oh. I feel fine.”
“Very good, my lord.”
“Do I look that red?” It wasn’t hot inside the carriage, and Ciel wasn’t wearing a coat either. He did feel fine, but Sebastian wasn’t capable of lying about such a thing-- he really must look pink, then.
“Only mildly so, my lord.”
The demon leans forward, reaching across so he can put one gloved hand on Ciel’s forehead. Ciel stiffens slightly, but doesn’t pull away.
“Well?”
“You’re only slightly warmer than usual. Perhaps your blood pressure is slightly elevated.”
Ciel doesn’t know enough about that to know if that’s true, so he only hums. He doesn’t want to get sick, not now.“Can’t you hear my heart beat? Is it… troublesome?”
“No, my lord. It’s as it always is.”
Humming again, Ciel looks out the window to watch the trees pass. “Can you hear my blood moving, too?”
“Not quite. I can smell it, when you’ve been cut.”
The earl knew that, but he presses anyway. “What does it smell like?”
“It depends on what you’ve eaten, my lord, and if you are in good health.” He pauses, the thought hanging in the air unfinished, for long enough that Ciel looks at him again, curious. He’s still looking back at the boy, though his eyes have trailed to Ciel’s neck. With just the two of them in the carriage, he’d popped his collar and left it hanging open around his neck. With Sebastian’s eyes on the bared skin, he suddenly feels exposed. “...Your blood smells delectable, my lord.”
Ciel’s eyebrows raise. Delectable implies…
“My blood?” Ciel says, frowning. “You can drink it?”
“Humans can too,” Sebastian says good-naturedly, eyes snapping back to Ciel’s face. “It’s just the matter of digesting it that gets in the way.”
The boy huffs. “Don’t be daft on purpose.”
“Demons can digest blood, yes.”
“Is it… good?” Fidgeting, picking at his sleeves, Ciel avoids the butler’s eyes. The thought isn’t as off-putting as he might imagine. It makes sense, in a way, for Sebastian to want to eat at least a part of his living body.
“Similar to a soul, it depends on the source. A filthy human would have filthy blood.”
The boy sucks his lower lip between his teeth, glancing up at Sebastian briefly before looking at his sleeve once again. “Would my blood be…suitable?”
A grin curls the demon’s lips. “How interesting.”
“What is?”
“Are you that desperate to be good for something? Even just good for devouring?” He leans forward in his seat slightly, eyes washing over Ciel’s face again. “Are you offering, my lord?”
The look Ciel levels him with is half embarrassment and half indignation. “Answer the question, demon.”
Sebastian leans back in his seat again, not subdued, still grinning. “I have said many times, I believe, how delectable I find your soul. Your blood would follow course, naturally.”
Even though it’s the answer Ciel found himself wanting, it still makes him fluster, lips pursing and unpursing, eyes wide. It shouldn’t be surprising-- just as the butler says, he has been transparent since the moment they met that he finds the boy delicious.
The boy frowns, though, as a new thought occurs. He looks up to find Sebastian waiting eagerly for him to work up the words for it. “...Would it-- blood, I mean-- would it satiate your hunger?”
“It wouldn’t fill me, no.”
Ciel finds himself disappointed by the answer.
“But,” Sebastian continues, “It could be comparable to an appetizer, or a snack. Enough to satisfy to a degree, but not a full meal.”
“Oh.” Ciel looks down at his lap again, then up at the window, watching the countryside pass by. A moment of silence passes before he finds the will to clear his throat and ask delicately, “Would you still want that, then? Even if it wasn’t… enough?” He’s sure that Sebastian can hear his heartbeat racing, of course, but he tries not to think about it.
“Very much so, my lord. Is that something you would want?”
Sebastian asking what he wants isn’t entirely foreign, but Ciel still squirms at his one comfort being considered. How odd that it’s a demon who might consider it, when so many men have failed to do so. “What I mean-” Ciel fumbles, trying to hold the demon’s gaze. “If that is something which might help, then you may… sample.”
Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “How gracious of you to offer, my lord.”
Flushing, Ciel scowls at him. “Don’t make me change my mind.” He pauses. “Would you have to bite me?”
Amused, Sebastian tilts his head slightly, like a dog. “Seeing as your blood is inside you, yes, I would have to break skin to reach it.”
“I only meant,” Ciel grits out, eyebrow twitching irritably, “would it be preferable for me to cut myself instead.”
The look that comes over Sebastian’s face shows that he is considering that scenario, and whatever thoughts he’s having about it are far from decent. Ciel flushes further.
“Stop thinking whatever you are thinking,” He scolds, then stands, wobbling across the small space of the moving carriage so he can sit beside the demon. And isn’t that odd-- sitting beside his butler. He can feel the man’s body heat, false as it may be, where their legs touch. “Bite me, then.”
Sebastian turns his body towards the boy, gaze sweeping again down his neck, then towards his hands, crossed loosely in his lap. When he opens his mouth to speak, Ciel sees that his real fangs have appeared, longer and sharper than his usual teeth. “Your neck, my lord? Or your wrist?”
That makes sense to Ciel-- those are major veins. Either one would normally be covered by his clothes, assuming it isn’t too close to his jaw or his hand. He gives a half-shrug. “Your choice.” He can’t believe he’s going through with this-- if pressed, he could blame it on the boredom of a long journey. But beneath that is the lingering curiosity about the demon’s nature, and a need to explore that. And, perhaps, he wants to give Sebastian something in return for his service. Aside from the boy’s soul, he can’t think of anything a demon might want. This seems a suitable trade.
“Your neck, then,” Sebastian says.
Ciel nods once. Awkwardly, he pulls on his collar and tilts his head, closing his eyes. Hopefully it will be quick. Or perhaps painless, though he isn’t naive enough to truly believe it would be.
Delicately taking the boy’s chin in hand, Sebastian chuckles, the sound almost fond and far too close to Ciel’s skin. He trembles, inhaling sharply and holding it, tensed for the feeling of teeth on his skin.
Instead, there’s the soft press of lips to the fluttering vein.
Frowning, Ciel grunts, “Don’t drag it out just to irritate me. It’s not good manners to play with your food. If you’re going to do it, then just-”
He cuts himself off with a gasp as teeth sink into his skin. Ciel gasps, one hand flying to the demon’s wrist, holding onto it tightly. The pain is sharp but short-lived, dulling into an ache as the demon’s teeth-- fangs-- settle into his flesh.
The feeling of blood being sucked from his body is entirely new. It’s not the same as bleeding freely from a wound-- there’s a distinct feeling of something being taken from him, of being sucked at, pulled from. There’s a dampness as a trickle of blood slides down his skin. The carriage is filled with the soft, sucking sound of Sebastian’s lips on him. That makes him flush more than anything.
Sebastian is far gentler with him than he anticipated. He never touches Ciel with force, always undressing him and redressing him with the utmost care, always carrying him as if he were precious cargo. But even here, in the inherent violence of taking from him-- taking blood, life itself-- he moves slowly, softly, reverently. Ciel has to wonder if it’s always like this, or if this is part of the butler aesthetic.
Altogether, it’s… pleasant. The pain is bearable, and more of an ache than a sting. Sebastian’s hand on his chin remains gentle, holding him still with reverence as he drinks. Ciel feels light-headed after a moment, but his whole body feels light along with it, like he’s becoming weightless. He lets out a sigh without realizing, then seizes up a little in embarrassment.
Sebastian pulls back from his neck, craned over the earl’s side. His lips brush the boy’s chin when he speaks, leaving more damp blood on his skin. It makes Ciel shiver. “My lord, that is quite enough. You might faint-”
“I said to have your fill, did I not?”
Sebastian frowns uneasily against him, but dips his head back down nonetheless. His teeth connect again with the boy’s neck, and Ciel sighs, louder this time. He lets Sebastian press him back enough that his shoulders touch the leather seat backing. The demon follows, mouth never leaving Ciel’s neck.
Tilting his head up and away, Ciel closes his eyes. His grip on Sebastian’s wrist falters, and his hand slides back into his lap. He feels like he’s floating away, the only thing tethering him being Sebastian’s mouth on his neck, emptying him of… of everything. It’s hard to think. About their tasks, about the Queen, or his reports to finish when they return. The carriage rumbles pleasantly under him, and Sebastian’s hand is gentle, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the boy’s chin.
But the journey is long still, and he doesn’t have much else to do. So he lets himself stop thinking, his only worry Sebastian’s soft, warm mouth.
He’s not sure how long has passed before Sebastian pulls away. He feels as if he’s fallen asleep, only awoken when Sebastian’s teeth unlatch from him.
“Mmngh?” He asks intelligently.
Sebastian’s hand migrates to his cheek. “Don’t fall asleep, my lord. You need to eat something.”
Ciel blinks at him slowly, brow furrowed. He struggles to parse out the words. They swim in his mind, unreachable, and he gives up, instead huffing at the demon soundlessly, eyes imploring, hoping he will catch the earl’s meaning.
Sebastian laughs. He releases Ciel’s face to attend to the small basket at his feet, packed with a lunch for their ride. When he sits back up, Ciel finds him to be sideways.
“Don’t tilt your head like that, my lord, you’ll give yourself neck pain.”
The hand on his cheek returns, righting him.
“I already have… pain,” Ciel says. He lifts one hand to pat his blood-wet neck pointedly, then hisses at the sting of his fingers on the wound. His hand feels heavy, but his head feels light. It’s disorienting.
“Don’t touch that, my lord,” Sebastian says, pulling the boy’s hand away gently, their palms pressed together. In his other hand, he brandishes a sandwich. When Ciel looks up at him, his face is warmer, softer, than Ciel’s ever seen it, his face almost pink. He’s smiling. “Eat.”
Perhaps he was meant to take the sandwich. He doesn’t realize that until he’s already leant his head forward and taken a slow bite. The bread is soft, the meat cold, and Ciel hums. He holds Sebastian’s hand tightly.
“Mm,” He says, looking at Sebastian. He can’t stop looking at him. In this tiny little carriage, he’s the most interesting thing here. In Ciel’s tiny little life, he’s the most interesting thing. He’s pressing the sandwich to Ciel’s lips again, nodding like Ciel is a particularly infirm elder, or a young child.
“Very good, my lord.”
“Did’ju bring dessert?” Ciel mumbles, mouth full of sandwich.
Sebastian laughs through his nose. “Of course, my lord. I am familiar with your habits.”
“Sticky,” Ciel says, raising their clasped hands towards his neck.
Tugging his hand away from the wound, Sebastian hums. “Once you are finished with your lunch, I’ll clean you up. For now, please eat. You need your strength back after that.”
Obediently, Ciel takes another bite. “‘S it good?”
“It was lovely, my lord. Truly, you are as exquisite as I believed.”
“Mmngh,” Ciel says again. He chews slowly on the sandwich, trying to remember how to swallow. Sebastian tries to pull his hand from Ciel’s but the boy holds fast. With his other hand, he reaches across his own chest to put his thumb to his jaw, where there’s a small smudge of blood. His brows furrow.
“I’ll clean it afterwards, my lord,” Sebastian soothes. “For now…” He trails off, pupils thinning into cat-like slits. His mouth snaps shut, eyes watching Ciel’s hand.
The sight of his expression-- half surprised, half hungry-- makes Ciel giggle around his thumb, which he’s stuck into his mouth. He doesn’t particularly like the taste of blood. He’s not sure why he thought it would be different, now that Sebastian has said it was good. The butler was a demon, after all, and it must taste different on his tongue than on a human one. Still, Ciel sucks at it loudly, lapping the blood away dutifully. When he’s finished, he pulls his thumb from his mouth and takes another bite of sandwich.
“My lord,” Sebastian says, slightly breathless. His eyes dart to Ciel’s mouth, covered in crumbs, and then to Ciel’s neck, still trickling blood. He swallows.
“Dessert,” Ciel demands, finishing the sandwich. He nearly bites Sebastian’s fingers as he takes the last bite, then laughs.
Mechanically, Sebastian takes the dessert from the basket, eyes shifting towards Ciel’s neck again, then to his mouth. Ciel pats at his lips with his hand, wiping away crumbs. They land in his lap, and Ciel watches them fall, frowning when he notices a drop of blood on the leg of his shorts. He pats that, too.
“Here, my lord.”
Ciel looks at the small cup Sebastian is holding. Inside is the familiar parfait Sebastian often makes for him, laden with raspberries. Between Sebastian’s fingers is a spoon.
“You do it.”
Sebastian snaps his eyes away from Ciel’s neck. “...What would you like me to do?”
The boy looks at the spoon. His hands still feel heavy. His whole body feels heavy, ridiculously so. He wants to curl up in a ball and nap.
Sweets first, though.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Sebastian mutters, and then, “I need my hand back to hold the spoon, my lord.”
“Oh.” Ciel looks down at their hands, thinking about them coming apart. Carefully, he unclasps his fingers, one by one. They feel tingly from the skin contact, or maybe from the blood loss. He doesn’t know. With effort and difficult focus, he sets his hand in his lap beside the other one.
Sebastian snickers. “Well done, my lord.”
Instead of answering, Ciel leans back against the seat again, his head tilted back slightly. He looks at Sebastian through eyes half-lidded, waiting.
“I see all it takes is a little blood loss for you to act like a child,” Sebastian says, digging the spoon into the yogurt. “Not that you normally don’t.”
“I feel good,” Ciel sighs.
“I can see that. Open.”
The boy obeys without a thought, closing his eyes.
“You can’t go to sleep, my lord.”
Ciel makes a displeased noise, accepting a bite of yogurt. He opens his eyes with effort. His eyelids feel like they weigh a ton. “‘En-ter-tain,” Ciel says slowly, each syllable difficult, “Me.”
“With what, my lord?”
Ciel sighs. “Story.”
The demon snickers again, dipping the spoon into the yogurt again. Ciel watches carefully, focused on where the demon grips the handle, like he’s holding something delicate. Like he held Ciel’s chin. “Very well. Once upon a time…”