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Six Thirteen

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The pencil scratched against the paper as it filled in the circles of the Scantron sheet, competing with the ticking of the clock at the front of the class. Ciel could feel his eyes on him, crawling along his exposed skin, mentally peeling off the layers of his flimsy uniform. He didn’t have to glance up to confirm his suspicion. The pervert would be looking down his white cotton tank top, gnawing his bottom lip, slightly elongated canines biting into the plushy flesh as he stood much too close to his seated pupil.

The alpha teachers had no scruples. Come to think of it, neither did their student counterparts. And why should they? Omegas had only been allowed to attend school due to the one hundred and ninth Amendment to the Constitution in an attempt to equalize the caste system; but everything that came from it was a contradiction: they were allowed to attend school, but not do anything with their education, they had to wear provocative uniforms to entice the alphas to attend school, but were blamed when they were deemed too distracting.

Ciel sighed, a sound of obvious exasperation when he felt the stubby, rough finger graze along his sun-kissed shoulder and drag the spaghetti strap off the gentle slope. The shirt fell lower, revealing his delicate, rosy nipple and he had to focus on controlling his scent rather than the physics problem before him about altitude and the weight of gold.

The pleased, faint rumbling that reverberated within the teacher’s chest became louder as he bent over, pretending to answer a question Ciel had not asked so he could inhale him deeply. The surrounding alphas shifted in their seats uncomfortably as the wine-like aroma of pomegranate permeated the vicinity. Ciel squirmed, and the rickety wooden chair creaked loudly in the otherwise silent room. His legs crossed and uncrossed, and the scent took on a sharpness as distress spilled into it.

His teacher shuddered, then straightened up again, snatching his unfinished test from his small hands, paper cutting into his fingers in the process, then marched to the front of the class. It had caused enough of a commotion to halt the others in their test taking, not that it mattered as the bell rang a handful of moments after.

“Phantomhive, stay behind so we can discuss this... cheating,” Mister Druitt told the whole class.

Ciel’s mouth went dry. He tried to make eye contact with his peers, hoping that one of them would see his desperation, that one of them would catch the potent scent of anguish and desolation rolling off him. If they did, they ignored it; as per usual. They all knew he hadn’t been cheating; he certainly hadn’t sneaked a peek on Bard’s test or Ronald’s test. Just because they were alphas didn't mean they were particularly booksmart. More often than not, they were lazy, getting by on their status and natural abilities rather than hard work.

He hated them.

And Druitt too.

Once the last pupil had fled from the room, his teacher took the stack of tests that had been piled unceremoniously onto his desk and stuffed them into his bag. Then, he strode across the room and sank the little nail attached to a chain into the slot at the very top of the door where Ciel could not reach.

Ciel could hear the man whisper something to himself as the cloying odor of jasmine filled his nose. He wrinkled it, knowing it would upset the older man to see such distaste on his student’s face.

“Ciel, come here,” the teacher commanded, setting his feet upon the desk as he reclined in his chair.

The omega shook his head, no, the motion was so quick and minute that it must have looked like a blur to the alpha before him. Ciel was quaking, knees knocking so that his long socks slid down his legs and pooled mid-calf.

“Look at you,” the teacher purred, “you’re scared. I won’t hurt you this time, Ciel; not if you listen.” From his blazer pocket he withdrew a keyring and selected the tiniest key to unlock the drawer on his right side. A long silver wig was deposited on the desk between them along with a short, pleated cheerleader skirt. “The first time I saw you was Halloween, and you wore this...”

Ciel tuned him out. He’d heard this speech dozens of times. Each time, Druitt didn’t care that Ciel had been ten when he’d worn the wig. Did not care that he was twelve when he’d started making visits to his home, threatening to tell his guardians he was misbehaving at school when it clearly wasn’t the case. For the man’s silence, all Ciel had to do was wear the fake hair and skirt and sit on the teacher’s lap, bare-bottomed, let the deviant rub himself against his plump omega rear until the material separating them was wet and sticky.

When Ciel finally noticed the sermon had come to an end, he stepped up to the desk, pinned the wig to his head with the clips adhered to the false hairline and began to unbutton his shorts, turning around to remain somewhat modest.

“Tut tut… Robin, your undergarments too. For having to be told, why don’t you climb up onto the desk and face me to put on your skirt,” his teacher teased.

“Sick bastard,” Ciel spat under his breath, crawling onto the desk and getting up to his feet. At this height, Druitt came up to him just over mid-thigh, and he made it known, breathing heatedly onto Ciel’s skin.

“What’s that my spoiled little princess?” Druitt asked, carefully licking his way from kneecap to Ciel’s inner thigh.

“I said, ‘One day I’ll get this mastered,’ Sir,” he lied, gently pushing the teacher’s face aside so that he could hitch the skirt up. All he wanted to do was jab him in eyes-- he fantasized about it, of seeing the blonde on the floor in fetal position, howling in agony, clutching his face… He was just so damned tired of watching his teacher mentally undress him every single day.

Ciel thought about it long enough so that when he came out of his reverie, the skirt was in place. As was customary, Druitt had to pull it up, examine his pretty, pink omega cock and comment on how much lovelier it would be if it weren't so… flaccid. A real omega, he told Ciel, was always ready for their mate. As if Ciel wanted a mate when this was what he’d have to look forward to.

He was offered a manicured hand and descended, only to be turned around and pushed chest first against the desk. “Stay there,” the teacher instructed, then pulled out pumpkin-spiced and cinnamon candles from another drawer and lit them. It was a shame really, they would mask the smell of Druitt’s arousal, and maybe a bit of Ciel’s degradation, but more than that, they would turn him off all the pastries and coffees offered this time of year -- not like he could afford any.

Once the candles had burned for a solid minute, he felt Druitt’s clad hardness push against his cheeks, hips rolling and snapping as the alpha teacher grunted. The skirt hiked itself up higher with the constant friction, and he was forced to pull it down, to keep it down. The dampness that resulted on Druitt’s end from these sessions disgusted him and he wanted no evidence left on his body afterwards.

“Make noises,” the teacher ordered.

And Ciel panted, pushing air forcibly from his lungs. He whined a little too, not for effect, but because his hips were being slammed repeatedly into the desk’s edge with every hard thrust and rub from behind. Once again, he'd be left bruised and would have to resort to sponge baths to hide it from the other omegas during communal shower times.

But he took the marks and discolorations with as much dignity as he could with his eyes closed and face pressed against the grainy wood surface; if he didn't, if he told, Druitt would go to Sister Francis, would tell her that Ciel had been coming onto him like the unpure omega Whore of Babylon that he was. She would believe him. Alphas always stuck together. Then he would be expelled. One chance; that’s all you had if you were born to breed. He needed his education. Needed to be able to get a job (no matter how meager) and move away from New Beginnings, the orphanage where his parents had dumped him once... well, it was sufficient to say that they had abandoned him.

“One day this’ll trigger your heat, Robin,” Druitt growled, aggressively fingering Ciel’s hips as he forced them back. More bruises. “And… and…” Finally, he was close, the stuttering asshole. He kicked Ciel’s feet apart and bent his knees a bit so he could drive his clothed cock between Ciel’s legs, causing him to bounce involuntarily on his toes. “And… once you’re in heat… you’ll beg for me to fill you with my seed... Mmmn... fuckkkk.”

Ciel swallowed the bile that rose into his mouth and squeezed his eyes tight, letting the teacher ride out his orgasm, before he pulled away, walked around the desk and located his shorts. He slipped them on under the skirt, and once securely fastened, shucked out of the costume, leaving it a crumpled heap on the floor. Druitt stumbled around the furniture, picked up the skirt and smelled it immediately, body still trembling from his post-orgasmic chill.

“Just so you know, I hate you,” Ciel told him, throwing his book bag over his shoulder and making his way towards the door, foot tapping as he waited for Druitt to get his shit together so that he could unlatch it. A minute later he did, and as he walked over to him, the noticeable dark splotch at his crotch on his tanned pants revived Ciel’s nausea.

“Just so you know, I don’t care,” the teacher told him, opening the door and pushing him out of the classroom before locking it again.

He was glad Druitt’s class was last one for the day; that way, when he’d emerge late from room 121, the hallway was pretty much deserted. He made his way to his locker, feet shuffling, eyes trained on the floor. He passed two individuals, whom by their smell were definitely bonded mates. Poor omega, he thought, might as well quit school so you can focus on cooking, cleaning and making babies. He wanted none of it. Wanted someone to cook for him, clean for him. He didn’t want babies. Didn’t like them one bit and resented the fact that he was expected to just because he had lost playing the genetic lottery.

He wasn’t at all surprised by the tag that greeted him upon reaching his locker. He took out a tissue from his back pocket and wiped the smeared substance that had left slut scrawled diagonally across it. He sighed, needing a few more to scrub the metal surface, occasionally spitting into the tissue to help remove it. If the sisters saw it… expulsion.

Seven minutes and a sore wrist later, he threw on his jacket, not because it was cold, but more so to cover up for the walk home. He was lucky he did. A group of alphas, led by Baldroy followed him most of the way, catcalling him, one threatening to knot him on the sidewalk, another saying that he could make it so that Ciel couldn’t walk the rest of the way to his Whore House. He ignored them, taking the opportunity to cut through an alleyway when they started fighting over who would claim the lovely little thing first.

He was a thing.

He sighed, pushing the flimsy screen door open, letting it bang the adjacent wall and took the steps two at a time, reaching his bedroom on the second floor without having seen any of his housemates.

They had very little freedom at the orphanage. Absolutely no privacy. Sure, they each had their rooms, but no doors; everyone got to listen while someone was getting their heats relieved by hired help when the time came. He would kill for someone to create that kind of distraction now so that he wouldn't be bothered for the evening.

He sank to the floor and pulled out a large, Latin leather-bound tome from under his bed. He’d found it in the school library just the other day when he’d managed to skive off prayer time at the chapel.

“What’cha doin’?” a blonde head poked inside just as Ciel was about to open the book.

“Finny!” Ciel exclaimed, hand on his heart as it thumped hard beneath his ribs. He sat upon the book, trying to hide it; he was sure he wasn’t allowed to remove it from the library much less the school. “N-not much. What’s up?”

“Oh nothing, I just heard you run up the stairs. I was worried about you. Are you alright?” the kind-faced boy inquired.

Ciel nodded, though he wasn’t. Still, the way Finny carded his fingers through his matted hair, blunt nails raking his scalp in an effort to soothe him was appreciated. He closed his eyes and felt nothing but their pressure.

“Suitors coming tonight,” Finny informed Ciel, his hands drifting lower down his neck until they found his shoulders and massaged them gently. “They were the ones here last week that showed an interest in Johanne and Doll. They might fetch a nice administrative fee if they’re adopted; we might actually be able to make repairs to this dump.”

Ciel made a sound to indicate he was listening to Finny, but his mind was making contingency plans. If those two alphas were coming back, they might be bringing more. They would be asked to dress nicely, sit on their beds like good, docile omegas with coy smiles plastered to their faces. He despised it, felt like he was a puppy in a pet store, waiting for someone to take him home, except he didn’t want to be selected. The devil he knew at the orphanage was better than whatever nightmares might be waiting for him out there.

Even if he wanted to leave, he couldn’t put himself through what the others did. Sprawling barely clad on the bed, displaying himself wantonly, rear and shoulders pressed into the hard mattress, back arching, hands fisting sheets, faced flushed to give them a preview. Mewling sounds would filter out of each room, along with the sweet scents of desire, mixed with desperation. By the end of it, they were all exhausted and the sting of rejection weighed heavily on most of them, causing their home to take on a distinct bouquet of sadness. No suitors would come around for a week following a showing.

Some eight years ago, after having been dumped there, he simply sat on his bed reading a book and made no eye contact with the alphas who came to call, but he’d learned quickly that not adhering to the pathetic omegan rite meant no access to food or water - and not only to drink, but to wash himself, to brush his teeth. Soon enough, the lack of hygiene was noticeable, took away from his naturally appealing scent and the nuns who ran St-Augustine’s Secondary School would beat him harshly for his non-compliance, threatening to have him kicked out of both home and school should he not submit himself to the rules and expectations of the orphanage.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready then?” Ciel asked the other boy, turning his head to look at him, “this might be your lucky day.” Finny had come a long way from having been abandoned by the medical lab he’d been bred into for testing purposes. Now he presented well. He was lovely, bright eyes always wide with innocence, and with his body approaching its first heat, his hips had become a little more pronounced, his angles a little softer. Finny was kind. Finny could love little brats and take care of an alpha -- he always took care of Ciel. “Go on, I’m fine,” he told him. Besides, he needed to be alone.

Finny kissed the top of his head and skipped off towards the stairs that led to the main floor. As he descended, Ciel could hear him humming a pointless song about being chaste and pure and when he could hear him no more, he got on his knees before the large book and opened it where he’d marked a page with a scrap of paper onto which he’d scribbled a translation courtesy of GoogleTranslate; he was lucky some student hadn’t logged off, so there would be no chance the content of what he translated could be traced back to him.

The distinct odor of gruel wafted to the second floor and Ciel knew he had roughly twenty minutes to work before his housemates would finish dinner and come get ready.

From between his mattress and the boxspring he removed a knife he’d stashed there last week when he’d begun the failed rituals and as with previous days, he cut into the fleshy part of his palm, a quiet groan the only confirmation that it hurt. He let the blood drip onto the floor in the shape of a pentagram, then a circle around it, as pictured in the book. Once done, he dragged his fingers along the droplets, connecting them until the devil’s sign was distinct against the warped, linoleum tiles. At each point of the pentagram, an offering was laid down, a black candle, a black, dead serpent, a handful of musty soil, the masticated seeds of a pomegranate and a serving of chocolate. An odd list to be sure, but one that was easy enough to obtain given his home back onto a wooden area that was often frequented by cats and snakes alike.

In his head, he read the Latin words, cradling his still bleeding hand, now wrapped up with a towel he’d pilfered from the washroom this morning. When he was confident he was pronouncing it well, he cleared his throat and whispered them into the stale air.

In that moment, clouds rolled over the house, blocking out the sun and made everything go pitch black. Commotion could be heard from downstairs; the omegas screamed, bumped into one another looking for a lightsource or ran outside to see what the problem was. At the very least, he wouldn’t be disturbed.

The candle went from laying on its side to floating vertically mid-air, sparked once, twice then illuminated the room.

“What’s this?” a guttural voice purred from his bed behind him. Ciel went rigid, held his breath as he felt, rather than saw the tiny hairs lining the nape of his neck stand on end. There, stretched out and looking quite at ease was a dark figure. Ciel couldn’t tell if it was a person or not-- there was something somewhat human to it, but it seemed to take on a variety of animal forms as well.

“Are… are you…”

“Yesss,” it hissed as it stretched then stood before him.

Ciel got to his feet too, not at all enjoying the oppressive height difference -- it made no difference, the figure still loomed over him.

“What a small master,” it teased, “What a weak little master. Is it strength you desire? Would you like to grow a few feet? Fill out a bit more?”

“No,” Ciel protested, taking a step back. From downstairs he heard their guardian’s booming voice. Think...Think… he willed his brain. He knew what he wanted, he just hadn’t been expecting this to work; not after his other four failed attempts this week.

The demon looked around the space and though he had no human facial features, Ciel could tell he was less than impressed with his surroundings.

“A new home, then? Would you like to live in luxury?” Whatever distance Ciel had put between them, the demon closed the gap. Ciel heard a wet sound emanating from what would likely be its face, like a smacking of lips. It was followed by a low rumble where its chest might be.

“Not that either,” Ciel responded, braver this time. More confident.

“Then what?” the demon urged as inky tendrils broke from its form and slithered along his bedroom floor, taking hold of him and pushing him forward until he all but fell into the starless, midnight figure. “Tell me… what is your soul’s desire?” One of the filaments climbed along his slightly trembling body and tilted his head so that he was looking up at the demon.

A fanged mouth materialized amidst dozens of inhuman eyes appraising him. He whimpered without wanting to, and the devil chuckled at the expense of his mortal fear. A forked tongue swiped the periphery of the orifice containing all those teeth, then unexpectedly whipped itself against Ciel’s exposed collarbones.

“Mmm… delicious,” the demon groaned as a slippery appendage lapped at the tears of blood weeping from the small gash it had caused. “Anything you want, little master. You’re positively intoxicating.”

Ciel felt the tendrils squeeze him, almost suffocating in their strength as they pressed him into the unfamiliar form. “I… I want you to keep the alphas away from me.”

“All of them? That’s quite a few...”

Ciel felt his recently acquired gouge mend itself, along with the one on his hand. “The ones that mean to harm me. To own me.”

“Such a request might require quite a bit of labour on my behalf,” the demon declared casually, his bottom half assuming a more human form, legs long and dressed in crisp black trousers, feet clad in patent, shiny leather Oxfords. Ciel followed the progression of fabric knitting itself over new flesh.

“Are you not capable? Have I summoned a weak demon?” the omega threw the word back in the devil’s face. His reaction was what he was expecting. A growl filled the room, the air from it making the candle flicker and blowing Ciel’s hair back as if by a strong gust of wind. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, gave a start as a handsome face was leering into his own. They were nearly nose to nose and the devil’s long fringe and lashes tickled Ciel’s face.

“Of course I’m capable,” the demon snarled. He smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from the suit jacket he now wore, and peered over Ciel’s shoulder to examine his reflection in the window. He licked his top teeth, brushed traces of soot from his angular jawline with his long, slender fingers and winked at himself. “So, how long am I to play the role of bodyguard?”

“Until I am adequately self-sufficient. I refuse to rely on an alpha to do that.”

“Oh-ho… you prefer to rely on a hellspawn? What a curious little thing you are,” the demon cooed derisively as he tucked the boy’s slate hair behind his ear.

“Don’t call me a thing,” Ciel warned, irritated both by the words and the familiarity with which he was touched. The demon’s nostrils flared, and he perked up, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips.

“As you wish, but ahhh... you smell like pomegranates young master… food of the dead, how fortuitous,” the summoned moaned, rubbing his taut belly, “you’ll make a nice little morsel won’t you? Speaking of which, we need to talk about payment. The cost of such a contract will be… substantial.”

“You want my soul,” Ciel muttered. Of course he knew it would come to this. Dealing with evil incarnate would not be a frugal matter, but he was resigned to this course; it was much better than the life he’d led so far and he didn’t care much for heaven anyhow.

The demon laughed, and it filled the whole of the house. It shook the walls, shattered windows, made the omegas scream again. The candle in Ciel’s room snuffed itself out and he was left in darkness. He gasped when hot breath made contact with his neck, lips mouthing greedily up the side, clawed hands groping the thin fabric at his chest as the demon found his ear. Ciel shuddered, not disgusted, not afraid, but not a feeling he could identify either.

“Goodness no, I’m not that kind of demon. You summoned an incubus, child.”

Chapter Text

In the dark, Ciel planted the heel of his hand into the demon's face and pushed it away from his neck. He felt the tiniest pressure of teeth scraping along the flesh and a tongue wind itself around his fingers.

“Gross. Stop that!” he commanded, pulling himself away from the demon. His small hand hung between them, outstretched and still tethered to the warm, wet muscle, the tip of it flicking his palm ticklishly before letting it go. A shudder made its way up the length of his arm to rock his lithe frame. It shouldn’t have been pleasurable, “Filthy creature,” he mouthed, a self-deprecating insult rather than one directed to the devil.

The demon obeyed, albeit reluctantly and Ciel wiped his hand surreptitiously on his school uniform.

“Mmm… Just like little pricks, your fingers are. Begging to be milked and licked and fondled. You’re mouthwatering, young master, and I’m starving.” His eyes flashed and the crimson coal that flickered in them were the only illumination in the room. It reminded Ciel of all those times Finny had stuck a flashlight in front of his face when telling scary stories under the sheets and his features had become momentarily distorted, the natural shadows casting blotches on his adorably freckled face. But the demon was all shadow, black on even darker black. He was exactly what every child feared in the dark -- the unknown.

“Just shut up a moment, will you?” Ciel chided. “And I can’t see a thing, so fix that before we talk about this nonsense you’re spouting.” Already three minutes into their acquaintanceship and Ciel couldn’t stand the fiend. If the demon was no better than the alphas Ciel hoped he would keep away, how was he supposed to have him nearby for any length of time?

The sound of spit, sopping and stringy, splattering against a soft surface - skin perhaps - made Ciel cringe, and he was abruptly bathed in a warm luminescence as the devil stood before him again, holding a small dancing flame in his left hand.

“If you’re referring to my nature,” he said condescendingly, smoothing his free hand along the soft curves of Ciel’s delicate jawline, “I assure you, child, it’s no lie. Though, if you doubt it, I am more than happy to demonstrate.”

“God no!” Ciel balked, slapping the incubus’ hand away. He heard the crunch of small bones in his hand as he did, and gave a whimper, making his following words somewhat less compelling, “And quit calling me child. You didn’t seem to mind sucking my fingers and talking… like that.”

“Age hardly matters to a demon; we don’t abide by your narrow code of morals,” the fiend scoffed.

“Fine, whatever you say; I’m used to your kind -- alphas, demons, same shit, different pile,” Ciel said dispassionately cradling his broken hand. “But I didn’t summon an incubus. I was summoning Andromalius, the punishing demon.”

The devil laughed again, an annoying laugh, a grating, arrogant laugh and Ciel wished he would stop. “Oh, young master, I’m fond of you already. Like most kin your age, I imagine you relied on technology to translate the Latin text for you? The word Scelerisque that you interpreted as chocolate, was meant to be Vice. You know, like Horace’s Ode, integer vitae scelerisque purus, upright of life and free from vice, not upright of life and free from chocolate. Fortunately for you, it is I that comes for chocolate.”

“Fantastic,” Ciel digressed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his good hand and expelling an exasperated breath. “Listen, I’ve tried summoning four demons, and you’re the only one that’s answered; so what is it you want as payment? I imagine it’s something depraved.”

The demon purred its contentment at the taste of the mortal’s palpable discomfort, “It’ll be positively carnal. All the indecency you could imagine. I’ll even throw in some debauchery and decadence, but only because I like you, little omega,” he said wagging his finger at Ciel with mock affection. “I promise, you’ll love every moment of it.”

“I doubt that very much. I don’t respond well to um… intimacy, of any sort.”

The demon crushed the flame in his hand, long claws cutting into his palm, mincing the heat until it was reduced to thousands of embers, which he blew skywards. Ciel’s room could have been the outdoors with an abundance of far-away stars glittering and offering up their light. “I would make it so that you do,” the incubus crooned seductively. A comforting aroma that Ciel could actually taste, something like warm milk and honey befell them. He wasn’t so tense anymore, and when the devil’s tendrils reached out and enveloped him, he didn’t resist much. “Let me whet your appetite, omega, you won’t regret it.”

The incubus angled his head, regarding him lecherously as he brought Ciel’s broken hand to his lips and planted a series of deceptively chaste kisses to it. Its coolness eased the throbbing ache and soon it was pleasantly numb. Ciel flexed his newly healed fingers under the demon’s mouth, tempted to inflict his own brand of pain with his meager fist, then decided against it; the bastard would likely not feel anything or to simply repair himself.

They continued this game, the devil dragging his inhuman mouth and tongue over Ciel’s flesh in an attempt to seduce his prey and Ciel resisting the urge not to mewl and drop to his knees.

“You’ve made your point,” he said, trying to prevent just that and denying the incubus a prolonged taste. The 'Where’s Ciel?' coming from the guardian downstairs carried up to his room and he went involuntarily rigid. He knew demons kept their names to themselves, and he himself would have liked to have done the same. Now he felt ill at ease, at a disadvantage that this information has been divulged.

The devil grinned sheepishly, correctly assessing the shift in mood detectable in the vaguely tart scent. “Well, what do you say, Ciel? In exchange for my protection from the big bad alphas, you offer me… sustenance.”

“No.”

“No?” the demon echoed, unable to suppress the sound of surprise that shook his voice.

“No. Why would I agree to that before seeing what you’re capable of. I need proof that you’re as good as you say,” Ciel proposed. He heard a set of feet coming up the stairs, the bright spheres of a flashlight being swung left to right, bobbing in the empty space before it.

Ciel took a fistful of the demon’s crisp dress shirt and pulled him down so their faces were level. The incubus gasped melodramatically, breath hitching, then bathing Ciel’s heart-shaped face with warmth. The boy licked his parted lips expectantly, and was not disappointed by the lingering flavour. “Don’t be such a thot, pay attention. In minutes, some alphas are coming over to peruse our inventory of omegas. That should provide you with an opportunity to show off. Now get out of here,” Ciel ordered the incubus, releasing him.

Immediately, Ciel was flung back onto his bed, head hitting the wall and as the lights came back on, everything went black.

When Ciel came to, he was chilled. His window having somehow shattered, allowed for a biting, September breeze to whistle through his room. He shivered on his bed and it was only when he looked for his blanket to warm himself that he noticed he’d been divested of most of his clothing.

He tried to recall how he’d gotten to this state, wearing silky, pastel blue, low-riding panties and camisole to match, bound and splayed on a bare bed. He was sure he’d not worn this of his own volition; such outfits were reserved for -- and his heart sank at the thought of it. The alphas were here. He could smell them, their arousal thick in the air. Whines carried from the other rooms, and mattresses creaked and groaned as the omegas shifted restlessly on them. Ciel wondered if they were also tied. He pictured Finny bound, struggling against his restraints and both a whimper and the distinct smell of upset seeped out of him.

He tried his best to keep quiet; the last thing he wanted was to show the alphas he was weak but he also did not want to challenge them openly, such creatures were fond of breaking the spirits of those individuals.

There were four of them by the sounds of it. One of them had demanded Johanne moan, two different alphas growled at one another when they both decided to visit the room adjacent to his own, and the fourth, he saw with his own eyes.

The bastard’s eyes, a clouded over brown, stared blankly into his room; it was as though he saw right through Ciel.

“That one’s quiet,” one of the growling alphas told the one peering into his room as he came up to stand beside him to have a look.

Neither said a thing. A renewed gust of wind blew violently through the broken window and carried with it the slight scent of chocolate. He gasped and his eyes went wide.

He'd been so bewildered waking up like this that it had pushed the devil from his thoughts. He fought against his restraints, sure now why the alphas had been muted -- that bloody pentagram in the center of his room with satanic book open next to it was likely the culprit.

By the time Ciel managed to get to his elbows and crane his neck to see over his bed to discover the evidence of his summoning was gone, the alphas had lost interest in whatever they'd been staring at and moved onto the next room.

He waited another twenty-five minutes before the redheaded guardian came to free him, but in that time, he'd simply laid there, quietly trying to deflect the scent of aggressive desperation that polluted his home.

“You were good today, my little nuisance. You didn't score yourself an alpha, but at least there were no complaints about your lack of showmanship,” Grell told him, finally untying the silk scarf at his right foot. “Hmm… that's strange. I would have imagined with what you were said to have been doing that your wrists and ankles would have been rubbed raw. Oh well. You missed dinner earlier, so you’ll have to wait until breakfast to eat.” And with that last bit of information, Grell left.

Ciel stared after the guardian’s tall, retreating figure, confused by the praise and vague description of his performance. He hadn't done anything but lay there completely dumbfounded.

The omegas had begun chatting between themselves, wishing ill of Doll who had been escorted out by one of the alphas and consoling a crying Johanne who had been looked over once again and punished harshly for what Grell perceived as the omega’s failure to be properly seductive.

Ciel couldn't take it. The anguish, the tears, the jealousy, the phony soothing and encouragement… all the bullshit that came with and was expected of being an omega. He stripped off his garments in favour of old sweatpants that hung loosely on his hips and a zip up hoodie and snuck to the first floor and out the back door without being seen.

Night had finally fallen and Ciel felt the glowing eyes of tiny wildlife following him down the familiar path into the forest. The crackle of dead leaves under his bare feet, the crunch of their dryness, further accentuated his increasing despondency and continued withdrawal from the world he knew. So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, that he barely registered a second set of footfalls among the decaying forest floor.

“Did I pass the test to your satisfaction, young master?” the incubus inquired, falling into step with him.

Ciel was not shocked by his sudden appearance, the demon was no different than the serpents who crossed his path without warning. Instead of answering the query, he retorted with one of his own. “Did you dress me like that? Did you get a good eyeful, you lecherous bastard?”

The demon smiled suggestively, fangs biting into his bottom lip. “I did quite enjoy your unconscious form being manipulated like a ragdoll, limbs malleable and mostly obedient. Though you do have a problem with submissiveness, don't you Ciel? Even in oblivion, you refused to give up all control. Your efforts to fight off the freakish red-clad alpha from costuming you were valiant.”

“You're disgusting, you know that?” Ciel spat out the side of his mouth, refusing to make eye contact with the incubus. He was ashamed that anyone had seen him so vulnerable.

“I'm nothing if not a voyeur, little omega,” the demon said, giving him a bow.

Ciel walked on, leaving the dark figure behind. He stopped at the great oak tree in what he assumed was the middle of the forest and leaned against it. “So you failed your test,” he said airily, looking up at the thick canopy where the moonlight scarcely made it through.

“How?” the demon challenged, tone dangerous and almost inhuman. Ciel felt hands pinning him to the rough bark as crimson shone bright in the demon’s otherwise black orbs.

“You didn't stop Grell,” Ciel told him frankly, shoulders trying to shrug under the weight of the demon’s hands.

The incubus growled, his displeasure made obvious as he sneered the following, “My contract states that I am to save you from alphas. This one meant you no harm. They meant only to humiliate you.”

“That’s harmful, you sack of shit! Especially when it’s been going on for years!” Ciel roared, overtaking the demon in his ferocity. The incubus stepped back and appraised him, seemingly impressed by his outburst.

“Fine, fine, Mea culpa. Humiliation bad. A happy master good.”

“Don't set your sights so high, I'm not likely to ever be happy either,” Ciel grumbled petulantly, folding his arms over his chest. “So how’d you do it? Why is everyone under the assumption that I put on a good show?”

“It was a simple enough glamour,” the demon explained flippantly, “but…”

“But?”

“After six months of imposed fasting, I am feeling somewhat... depleted. If you’re expecting me to take you on, you’ll need to feed me before I attempt to fend off your aggressors. So what do you say? Shall we finalize this covenant? If not, I'm afraid I’ll need to go in search of another master.”

It might not have been a threat, but Ciel interpreted it as such. He’d appreciated not having been groped and gawked at by the four alphas and the thought of having to go back to living that way was out of the question. “Alright. How do we do this?”

The demon was on Ciel a fraction of a breath later, the hoodie’s zipper mangled beyond repair and his sweatpants were already being tugged down.

“Stop… stop that!” Ciel commanded, kicking wildly at the air before him. The incubus had retreated, was crouching, spitting and snarling like he was ready to pounce on him again. Still, he had stopped.

The demon was more humane than the alphas.

Tell me what we need to do, don’t just do it,” he instructed, putting a hand up in warning like he would to talk to a vicious dog.

“I NEED TO BE FED!” The demon screeched. Birds overhead left their perches in search of somewhere safer and the scuttling on the ground came to a halt as though those causing the noise were frozen in place.

“I get that, but you're not fucking me; so you better have a plan B, demon. If you don't, I'm walking,” he quipped, sounding more confident than he felt. Already, Ciel had learned that the demon could be taught, that he obeyed commands and now, he wanted to see if he could be bargained with.

“Don't,” the fiend implored, slowly advancing on him as though he’d hurt the omega, “Don't go. I just need… I need…”

The way the words spilled from the demon’s lips reminded Ciel of a siren’s call. His voice was a low, hypnotic timbre, compelling, smooth like the chocolate scent that clung to him. “What do you need?” he urged, a little breathless as the incubus fell to his knees before him, nose pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants, inhaling his omegan scent.

“Your essence,” he solicited, looking up from under long, sooty lashes, moaning and eyes rolling back when he brushed Ciel’s hardening cock. “Just a bit… master. Just take it out, I don't even need to touch it.”

“You feed off my…”

“Don't judge me,” the demon snapped, “your food isn't any more appetizing.” His clawed hand reached for Ciel’s and guided it to the mortal’s crotch, where his sweats were already tenting.

Ciel grunted, the contact was firm and decisive and because it was his own hand, wanting. He pursed his lips, not wanting to let on that he could actually take pleasure in this. He looked up, as he pushed against the strain of his clothed cock and felt it spring back when he relieved the pressure.

“That’s it,” the incubus encouraged, sliding his free hand along the side of Ciel’s slender leg. “That’s it, hold it for me, let me see the shape of it,” he supplicated, curling the omega’s fingers around his arousal. He gripped it in a tight fist and both the boy and devil sighed at the same time. He heard a rumble deep in the incubus’ chest, and felt his hand knead its way to his hip then around to the swell of his backside against the tree. A claw poked inside the waistband and pulled down, scratching along the flesh until his rear was exposed to the cool night air.

“I can’t do this,” Ciel told him honestly, fully anticipating another demonic tantrum, “I never… I haven’t…”

“I know,” the demon purred, smacking his lips, “you smell so virginal. Tainted yes, but not spoiled. Touch yourself for me.”

A small part of his brain told him he was bewitched by the demon, the rest of him didn’t care. It felt nice to just enjoy the feel of his hand on his sex, without any guilt. “Okay,” he gave in, head lolling to the right as he looked down at him, “tell me what to do.”

Already, the fingers of one hand were fully wrapped around his pretty little cock, while the other hand timidly shielded the sight from the incubus’ view. The fiend moved it out of the way and kept it pinned to the tree.

“First, don’t hide yourself from me, I want to watch as you bring your hand up,” he prompted, “yes, like that, and over the head, good boy. Now go back down.”

Ciel obeyed, and flinched, unused to the sensation. It seemed dryer than he imagined. Reading his expression correctly, the demon spat in Ciel’s occupied hand, the substance oily, viscous, a glimmering black, spilling through his fingers as it dripped onto his cock. It was immediately soothing, tingling the skin stretched along his length and made it easier for him to slide his palm up and down.

“Tighten your grip, squeeze it here,” the incubus instructed as Ciel neared the head again. Under the devil’s lubricant, his swollen member turned an angry red and wept from the tip. The seeping pearly substance ran down his arousal, mixed with the wetness already in his hand and he gave a small whimper, head shooting back as he felt his arousal throb in his hand.

“It feels good doesn’t it?” the incubus asked.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, panting as his knees shook where he stood.

“Oh dear, look at you, you can barely stand on your own. You’re like a little colt aren’t you?” the devil said in an attempt to provoke him. It worked.

“I… I…”

“You what, hmm? You want me to help, little omega?” And the devil didn’t wait for him to answer.

Abruptly, Ciel was turned, stood facing the tree, one hand reaching out to balance himself as his feet were spread apart and he found his rump resting on the demon’s thigh. It was worse this way. Much worse. In this position, the incubus’ breath was on his neck, dampening the skin, raising tiny hairs. In this position, he heard every animalistic sound, every crude, keening lament.

The devil wasn’t at all like the teacher, pushing his bulge against him. Instead, Ciel was the one abusing him, using him, grinding him as he pumped his cock, pushing his hips forward and back to fist himself.

“Faster, young master,” he insisted, hands running down Ciel’s rib cage, feeling each protuberance of bone, then settling just below his waist. His words were hot against Ciel’s ear, teeth skimming the shell, “and harder, go harder.”

Ciel pinched his eyes shut and a drawn-out, broken moan left his lips as he tilted his head back. The demon swallowed the sound, mouth hovering inches from his own and buried it deep in his core.

“More,” the fiend demanded, and Ciel felt the aura behind him shift and grow in strength. “Mmn… my perfect little omega, you want so desperately to be in control don't you? To be the one fucking a tight heat. A hand gripping your sex, squeezing and pumping, sweat and spit pooling at your base as you scream for release. Or, your beautiful prick drilling into my mouth, sucked, licked and devoured, emptying yourself down my throat… Ooh --what’s this?”

The devil knew perfectly well what it was! Slick, warm and wet making its way down the back of his thighs, saturating the demon’s trousers. He tried to pull away, ashamed and was reprimanded for it.

“No. Stay omega. Come for me, feed me, sate me. Delicious. Mouthwatering little master.”

Ciel felt something wet hit the nape of his neck as the devil spoke into it; saliva ran the length of his spine inside his sweat-drenched hoodie as a large hand wrapped itself around his small one and jerked him in hard, sure strokes.

“Where?” Ciel rasped, incoherent with desire. So close, body tensing, hips moving erratically as his small frame trembled.

“Your hands. I want them filthy with your sin.”

“Hah… Ahhh... I’m com...I’m coming…” Ciel whined, and the demon let go of his hand and clutched him to his chest, feeling the omega’s heart pound under his fingers, delicate body convulsing as he whimpered and fussed and moaned.

Ciel’s cock gave a final twitch as he milked it one last time into his sodden, shaky hand and before he could say another word, the tired limb came up of its own volition. The pearly essence spilled from his palm, flowing in converging paths down his arm, only to be greedily lapped up by the devil. Slurping, hungry sounds consumed Ciel’s attention as his fingers were pried apart by a familiar forked tongue. In under a minute, not a spot of his release was left save for on his sensitive, spent cock, which he tucked back into his sweatpants. Even the slick seemed to be gone from the demon’s attire, and he could only guess as to how the incubus had made that happen.

“Satisfied?” he asked the devil, turning in the direction from which he’d come and started stumbling back home, weak from his efforts.

“You have no idea, young master,” the demon answered almost whimsically. “I feel renewed. Strong and ready to serve you,” and without warning, the demon scooped up his charge in his arms and ran with him, tendrils crackling behind them like sparks ready to ignite.

“I can walk,” Ciel grouched petulantly, tucking his face in the demon’s chest as his arms looped around his neck.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

By the time he’d returned to the orphanage, the door had been locked and barred and Ciel caught sight of a few prowling alphas sniffing around for a desperate omega in heat from within. The demon thought both scenarios amusing and told the boy not to concern himself with either problem. Given the window was still not repaired (and it wasn’t likely to be in time for winter), the demon merely lept to the sill, careful of the broken glass still contouring the edges and deposited his young master in his bed.

“I will see to the alphas outside. Sleep well,” he bid him, and he was gone.

Ciel couldn’t be sure in his current state, still high from his own pheromones, drunk on the spicy-sweet scent of chocolate and tired beyond belief, but he thought he heard yelping and begging from two stories down before he drifted to sleep.

The next day was much the same as the others, except that he felt… optimistic. As he put on his uniform, he wondered how the demon would be able to prevent anything from happening. Of course, he could stalk him to and from St-Augustine’s, but he was uncertain about how well he would be able to carry out his orders inside the school. He supposed it wasn’t his problem to worry about these trivialities; if the demon failed him, the covenant was broken and he would be owed nothing.

He hitched his bag over his shoulder and walked to school without incident. Even the short distance from the main entrance to his locker was drama-free. It was odd though, the school was usually bustling with energy in the morning; today he passed maybe a dozen students too busy having shushed conversations to pay him any mind. It wasn’t exam time, it definitely wasn’t the weekend, he wasn’t late, nor was there a special event going on today.

Where the hell was everyone?

He was so unsettled by this turn of events that it took him three tries to get the combination to his lock. When he finally did, he pushed it open and it slammed, echoing down the otherwise empty hall. He fished out his physics book, his English novel, a pencil case and heard it.

Fanfare.

He peeked from behind the locker door and saw alphas drop to their knees, Ronald was submitting himself by completely exposing his neck. Others were hollering and howling, showing their allegiance to a new alpha. A stronger alpha.

Whoever this alpha was, they’d caused a much more potent stench than that at his home after suitor visits. Ciel shut his locker, surprised by the lack of draw towards what the others, alphas and omegas alike, found so alluring, so he stood there and waited for it to find him.

And it did. Moments later.

There he was. The big dumb incubus, coming down the stairs, arms draped with omegas, their paws all over him, some crying for his attention, while others were content to simply bask in his presence.

He looked younger than when he’d summoned him, more vital, more attractive; perhaps it was the effects of having been fed, or maybe another glamour to appeal to his age group. He wore his uniform like it had been made for him specifically, but with his tie hanging loosely around his neck and his shirtsleeves rolled up to put his forearms on display. Their eyes locked on one another and the demon strode confidently towards him, brushing off his fanclub. When two of them tried to follow, he growled menacingly at them and they backed off, offended that the new alpha on campus would be remotely interested in what the pathetic orphan had to offer.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ciel asked under his breath.

“I’m new to St-Augustine’s,” he told him, extending his hand as though in introduction, “My name is Sebastian Michaelis.”

Chapter Text

Ciel’s eyebrows rose, disappearing somewhere under his slate, shaggy fringe, “Sebastian Michaelis, the French inquisitor? Very funny. You’re in a Catholic school, the nuns will have a field day with that.”

Sebastian seemed to inflate at the very idea and a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “Mmm… Nuns, you say?” the devil purred, licking his lips, “I love holy sisters. They try so hard to be chaste, but they crumble at the slightest attention.” Ciel noticed him getting excited, like the incubus was trying not to bounce on the balls of his feet as he went on, “And they cry to their Lord, begging for forgiveness as they’re being filled... Whores, the lot of them!”

Ciel couldn’t be sure, but when a nearby student gasped and broke into a fit of giggles, he thought they might have been overheard. It took every bit of restraint he had not to rub his own temples at the sheer stupidity exhibited by his protector. And since he hadn’t known that the incubus would pull such a ridiculous stunt as to show up at his school, he didn't have the foresight to properly instruct him on how to behave.

How on earth was he going to get him alone without raising suspicions; it’s not as though an omega could simply drag an alpha, nay, the newly crowned King of alphas, into a nearby closet for a bit of privacy. Such a bold move would be scandalous, would give him the kind of reputation he’d been trying to avoid. And letting himself be dragged off by one would make it seem permissible for other alphas to do it as well.

Infuriating, piece of shit demon!

The tartness of Ciel’s natural aroma took a sour turn as his mood darkened. It had yet to reach the proximal student body, but when Sebastian's mouth opened to speak, then paused to collect his thoughts, Ciel knew that even though he was not concerned, the demon was at the very least curious as to the shift.

Despite his better judgement, Ciel dropped to his knees before the incubus, imitating so many of the omegas in their midst and was glad when Sebastian followed suit, hands busying themselves to pick up the books that had spilled onto the floor from Ciel’s bag.

“We need to talk, alone,” Ciel gritted through his teeth, lips unmoving so the others couldn't make out what he was saying, “and don't just carry me off either.” His tone held in it a menace that promised no feeding should the demon fuck this up.

“Poor little darling,” Sebastian cooed out loud, the back of his hand stroking the side of Ciel’s face with mock affection, “do I make you feel weak?”

Ciel recoiled, his face backing inches away from the incubus’ hand; the same hand that came up seconds later, snapping its fingers twice at the nearest alpha.

“Give me your drink,” Sebastian commanded, eyes never leaving Ciel as the alpha in question not only gave the demon his raspberry lemonade, but uncapped it for him as well with a “just keep it,” tumbling from his mouth.

With an audience around them, Sebastian didn't so much as hesitate in thumbing Ciel’s lips apart, telling him to “open wide because I've got something big for you" and pressed the bottle to them, rather forcefully. Before Ciel could refuse, the drink was tipped forward and he coughed and sputtered, choking on the quick influx of fluid.

It dribbled from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, staining his shirt and Sebastian’s with pinkish splotches. “That’s a shame, pretty,” he mocked Ciel in front of his peers, most of which were laughing, “if you can't handle that, how are you ever going to fit my knot down your throat?”

A collective Ooooo… echoed down the hall and when Sebastian turned to glare at the source, it quieted. He grinned toothily when he stood and held his hand out to Ciel, “The least I can do is accompany you as you wash your shirt and mine. Show me where the nearest sink is.” And because the demon was a slut for any kind of attention, he unbuttoned his shirt in plain sight, removed it and tossed it atop Ciel’s bag, leaving his tie and flimsy undershirt to cling to his well-sculpted human form.

“Come,” the incubus crooned, beckoning him with a finger. Ciel was pretty sure he heard a few gut-level moans from nearby omegas, due to the sheer lecherousness the single word held.

He followed, purposefully keeping his gaze downcast, not out of submission, but to avoid seeing what it was the rest of St-Augustine was staring after. He looked fixedly at the floor, noticing where the grey and red zigzag pattern that decorated the linoleum was most worn and where the school colours had been rubbed off altogether by the time they turned the corner into an empty hall. They continued in silence and his eyes fell on the heel of Sebastian’s expensive black loafers and rode up, most unwillingly, chasing the bottom pleat of the grey trouser. The fabric was not like his own, or anyone else’s; though it looked like polyester, it behaved more like silk over flawless marble. It was hypnotic. Soothing.

And he almost got lost in it until he crashed into the back of him.

“You might not be able to see them, but I have eyes at the back of my head young master, and I know what yours were focused on,” the incubus teased, standing before a door with the nameplate reading Utility closet and the sign beneath it Not for Students: God is watching. They both chuckled when the devil read it out loud, then with a flourish of his hand, the lock clicked as if he’d had a key and the door swung open.

Ciel had barely stepped over the threshold when he found himself turned around and pushed up against the wall. The bucket and mop had been forced aside to make room for his passage. His body rose from the floor, legs flailing about, and the buttons of his shirt popped off of their own accord, one at a time.

“Food!” the demon growled inhumanly when Ciel’s head bumped the ceiling, bringing his crotch perfectly level with Sebastian’s face. Claws slashed at the worn leather belt securing the omega’s pants in place and he grabbed at them just as they fell away from his hips.

“No! Not food!” he admonished Sebastian like a bad dog, smacking him on the nose. And like a dog, the demon whined, long and drawn out, letting the human come back to his feet, completely unaffected by the plaintive display. He nuzzled the boy’s neck just behind his ear, sniffing him hungrily, the warm air from his nose tickling Ciel and raising tiny hairs.

“Get off me, you moron,” Ciel protested, one fist gripping the roots of Sebastian’s thick mane and yanking back as the other hand pushed aggressively against his windpipe.

“Why did you want to be alone if not to let me taste you,” Sebastian scolded, and his long demon’s tongue darted from between sharp canines, feasting on the dew-like perspiration that covered Ciel’s exposed chest. “I knew,” he said arrogantly between licks, “I knew master would start to crave his incubus. It always happens.”

Ciel caught the wet, slithering forked muscle, twisted it twice around his index finger and urged Sebastian to look up at him. “Well it hasn’t happened yet! So just ---”

“I dithagree, mathsther,” Sebastian interrupted with a razored smile stretching devilishly from ear to ear, before pulling his tongue away.

The omega’s breath hitched as the incubus’ hand slid between his thighs and cupped his growing stiffness, thumb seeking heat and pressing onto the head, rubbing small circles over his clothes.

“That’s not intentional! I can’t control when that happens!” Ciel fumed, voice a little higher than what was normal, and when he tried to slap Sebastian’s hand away, the demon caught it, and replaced his own hand over the omega’s dick with the boy’s, as if to prove to him that the hardness there was more than a simple stirring.

“Ask me if I care,” Sebastian whispered. It was clear by the way he began to force Ciel's hand up and down his own covered length that he most certainly did not.

“Let go!” Ciel hissed, hand jerking upwards over and over, trying to pry it out of the incubus’ painful grip.

“No,” Sebastian growled, tearing at the seams of Ciel’s trousers down his right leg for better access. “You made me work hard last night; I disposed of three alphas prowling about your residence. One could not walk on his own when I had finished and had to be carried by his friend, who could no longer see. And the third, well, she woke up in a different state this morning. I’m famished after putting in all that effort.”

Instinctively, Ciel’s knee came up, swiftly, with strength and accuracy. The demon’s face fell into the crook of the omega’s neck as he crumpled and gave a reflexive cry. And yet, Ciel’s leg did not come down. It was as though it was stuck mid-air. “What the…”

“Yes! Yes!” Sebastian groaned, teeth biting down into Ciel’s shoulder to dampen the sound, “Right there, master! Do it again. Harder this time.”

The good news was that the incubus’ hand had let go of the omega, so he wasn’t molesting himself anymore. Conversely, the long, clawed hands were at either sides of Ciel’s body, trapping him there as the boy’s knee moved against Sebastian’s crotch of its own volition. It rubbed against the soft-firm swellings of the incubus’ balls and instead of backing away like a normal person would, Sebastian met each and every grinding shot with a sigh and a moan.

Ciel laughed, changing his tactic since the demon wasn’t responding to his orders. “Do you know how utterly and completely absurd you look now?” He spat, plastering a tight-lipped grin to his face. “Pathetic, pitiful and needy. No wonder you had to resort to such a feeble contract. Who else but a downtrodden omega would tolerate this behaviour from a demon?” He knew at any minute Sebastian could tear him to pieces; that the hands now gripping his shoulders as he rut forcefully into Ciel’s knee, had the strength to rip his midsection apart so that all the custodian would find when he returned would be a lifeless body drained of fluid with its entrails spilled across the floor. “Can’t even go twenty-four hours without feeding…”

Sebastian stopped and Ciel’s foot was released. The omega straightened up, and the demon’s head stayed hidden, warming Ciel’s flesh through his shirt at first, then burning and singeing away the material until Ciel realized that the heat was not from Sebastian’s breath, but rather from his embarrassed, flushed skin.

“It’s not that I can’t go twenty-four hours, I just don’t want to. I’ll always be hungry for you little omega. We’re tethered until the end of this contract and while other nourishment would sustain me, it is yours that I will always crave most,” Sebastian confided, his words clear despite the fact that he was mouthing them against Ciel’s flesh.

“Then why don’t you just glamour me or whatever you call it? You know… to get what you want?”

“Your willing submission is best, young master. It tastes the sweetest on my tongue. I can coerce you, beg you, persuade you to fuel your desire… but your lack of consent renders the meal... less palatable,” Sebastian’s head came up, and when it did, so did his large, inhuman hand -- around Ciel’s throat, claws tapping as they touched at the back. When he spoke this time, it was with a not-so-subtle threat, “But do not kid yourself, Ciel, taking you against your will, would still fill my belly.”

Ciel tried to protest, but fell completely silent as his airflow was cut off. The need to swallow, frequently and harder came next, followed by his brain telling him to clutch at his throat to remove the obstruction. And as his nails bit into solid demonic flesh, the omega developed a brand new fear: that he would be the unwilling subject of necrophilia.

For the first time since being manhandled by Sebastian, a strong, distressed aroma filled the tiny space. He blinked, wet eyelashes fluttering and distorting the handsome, maniacal face before him; he willed himself to keep his eyes wide for fear that once they closed, they would not reopen.

“Do we understand one another, omega?” the demon asked, removing the pressure from Ciel’s throat so he could actually speak.

“Yes,” Ciel croaked, gratefully gulping lungfuls of air.

“Very well. Now if you didn’t drag me here to feed me, what is it you wanted?” Sebastian asked arrogantly, hands running along Ciel’s leg, stitching his trousers back up, then working on his tarnished shirt.

“To question you. Why are you even here? And why am I not picking up on your alpha scent the way the others are?”

Sebastian nodded, considering what had been asked. He wiped the darkening bruises around Ciel’s throat with the tips of his fingers, erasing the evidence of his threat and smoothed the omega’s silken hair, parting it so that both his lovely eyes were visible. “Why I thought that was obvious, young master. I’m here to protect you, to make sure you remain unharmed. What kind of contractor would I be if I couldn’t do that? And as to why you can’t even detect traces of my scent, I have a theory.”

“And that is…” Ciel inquired, thoroughly annoyed by the demon’s smugness.

Once his master was patched up to his satisfaction, Sebastian tipped Ciel’s head back with his finger under his chin and held his defiant gaze.“It’s not like my scent is the first you can’t pick up or appreciate… I’m inclined to believe it’s because you’re broke beyond repair. You know this, you feel it here, don’t you?” His hand trailed to the omega’s chest at his solar plexus and he made the heat spread there to intensify the crumbling feeling already surging through the boy. “That’s what happens when abandonment weighs so heavily on the heart. Not good enough for Mother and Father? And there was a twin too, wasn’t there? It must be difficult bearing that kind of guilt, knowing your parents didn’t want you to be the one to survive? What a failed legacy for poor Vincent Phantomhive.”

“You’ve done your research,” Ciel snarled, lowering his center of gravity, poised in a semi-crouch to punish, to attack the demon for his words; Sebastian merely regarded him with interest, inclining his head, inviting the omega’s wrath. His sweetened arousal overtook Ciel’s distress and in that moment, he knew he was being lied to. “I pick up scents just fine. And your alpha one is just a glamour, which is why I’m unaffected. You need to tone it the fuck down for everyone else, do I make myself clear?” He rose again and pushed past Sebastian, unlocking the door to show him this conversation was nearing its end. “And while I’m at it, stop running you mouth off, about nuns or anything else. You need to keep a low profile or people will get suspicious. Now what classes do you have?”

Sebastian wet his lips, enticed by the little omega’s misplaced authority. A new shirt materialized over his upper half and he followed Ciel, who hitched his bag over his shoulder and led them out the closet, first making sure that nobody was lingering in the halls. “I’m not sure. It’s whatever you have young master, shall I accompany y--”

“No. Just show up on time. Sister Francis hands out detentions if you’re a microsecond late.” And with that, Ciel made his way to the third floor.

It was seven minutes after the bell rang that Sebastian had decided to come waltzing into History class, entourage hanging off him like they had earlier that morning. The teacher said nothing, but her displeasure was indisputable; the chalk snapped between her fingers, bringing to a halt notes on the Cold War era she’d been scribbling onto the blackboard. She never turned to face them, but the alpha nun’s hackles were up as she addressed the offending party.

“Please take a seat and be quiet. You’re interrupting my lesson.”

Ciel watched from the back corner of class as Sebastian sat three rows to his left to be at the center of the room after telling Bard to move from his desired seat. The blond grumbled something as he took his books and walked towards an empty spot at Ciel’s side, uncharacteristically tripping over his own feet to land face first into the corner of a desk.

“You buffoon,” the nun snapped, saying the word as if it were an expletive. She turned to look at her unruly class and what remaining chalk she had left in her hand was launched at Bard’s head in exasperation. “Head to the nurse’s and get that looked after.” Her gaze settled on Sebastian and his harem; the recent addition to the school sat amidst a group of omegas, one of them squirming on his lap, her hands around his midsection, another kneeling on his desk, fighting for his attention by nuzzling his neck, a third sitting upon the floor at his feet, content to rub the scuffs off his shoes with his dress shirt and a fourth behind him, running her fingers through his lustrous, obsidian hair and massaging his scalp.

“You must be Mr. Michaelis, our new student? You’ve come to school when you’re so close to your rut? How charming,” Sister Francis seethed, taking a step closer and towering over them with her bun tied so tight under her coif it stretched her facial features and made them more intimidating. The omegas recoiled, immediately backed away from Sebastian, two of them whimpering as they took their respective seats; still, their eyes never left the object of their affections.

“Nah, no rut, Sister. I’m always like this. I possess what you might call, animal magnetism,” the incubus simpered superciliously, leaning back into his chair, crossing his ankles and lacing his fingers to rest behind his head.

Ciel’s legs bounced against the floor, anxiously sensing the oncoming confrontation. Francis was not a holy sister to cross, lest she call Him in. He had no idea if Sebastian would be guarded against his kind.

Ciel’s hand shot up, waving about and when Francis took no notice, too busy having a staring match with the demon, he spoke. “Sister, I have a question. Yesterday you -- you mentioned détente, but I can’t find it anywhere in my notes…”

It wasn’t enough. Teacher and pupil were still locked in what amounted to a dick-measuring contest, and having felt Sebastian’s impressively human-sized one, he still wasn’t sure that Francis wasn’t packing more than the incubus. Everyone was invested in the outcome, and Bard, who hadn’t left yet, though his nose was gushing blood, stood inches from Ciel.

The omega opened his mouth to say something again and for once in his miserable life, Ciel was glad for Bard’s inflated sense of entitlement. The scruffy alpha cuffed him behind the head and angled in to whisper, “Shut up, Phantomhive or I’ll fill your mouth with something that’ll do it for you.”

Sebastian’s head whipped around after Bard had uttered the third word, and Sister Francis took the opportunity to kick Sebastian’s feet out from under him. Being bested surprised the incubus, but he recovered nicely by catching himself, palm on the floor. Ciel was slightly disappointed when Sebastian had moved with enough grace to cancel out any awkwardness he might have suffered.

“Shit! Shit!”

Twenty-four pairs of eyes shifted from the scene to Bard, holding his hands palms up, under his chin, as blood spilled copiously into them. “S-sister help,” Bard supplicated, walking towards her, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Not only was his nose gushing, but by some strange happenstance, so were his eyes, mouth and ears. He pressed his lips together trying to staunch the bleeding, only to have it spill out the corners. Unable to swallow the sheer amount of it, he simply choked a moment then coughed it up, spraying the crimson substance onto Francis’ tunic and nearby students.

Francis led the afflicted boy out of the class, her stern visage more pinched than usual as she repeatedly made the sign of the cross over his head. Two omegas gave chase to offer their assistance, no doubt moved by the alpha’s pleading, red-rimmed eyes and once gone, Sebastian rose from his seat and stretched, rolling his neck and cracking it sickeningly.

“I guess that’s class. Anyone else ditching the rest?” the incubus asked, giving the nearest alpha his books to carry. Everyone sat there in stunned silence, waiting for Sebastian to sit down again and say ‘just kidding’, since nobody had ever had the guts to leave Midford’s class, not even to excuse themselves to go to the washroom. “Well?” he prompted.

The omegas that had come in with Sebastian stood and like magnets, attached themselves to him again. Ciel was pretty sure he heard a low purr rumbling from the demon’s chest but was too bewildered to even consider why that should bother him.

Sebastian shrugged his shoulders, leaving with a ‘suit yourself’ and less than three minutes later, Ciel found himself sitting alone in class. The solitude suited him just fine; living with some fifteen other omegas rarely afforded him this luxury and he was going to make the most of it. And if Sister Francis came back, so much the better -- it might earn him a bit of her favour.

He lay his head down to rest against his open binder, face turned towards the large window and he smiled softly as the sun washed over him. Shadowed patterns danced beneath his eyelids, interacting with the light just beyond them and as he began to relax, those indistinct shapes took on the familiar form of fangs, horns and phallic outlines. A scratching sound near his ear, against his paper, pulled him from his absorbed state and as he came up to look at it, he saw words etching themselves in an elegant script without the use of a writing utensil.

Meet me in the Science Lab after school? Circle Y or N.

Ciel gave an exasperated sigh. He glanced at the note again, leaving it be to reach into his bag and retrieve from it some aspirin and a bottle of water. It was barely eleven in the morning and already, he had a headache.

HELLO?

This time the word appeared on the blackboard, screeching harshly like nails against the grainy texture.

“Fine!” Ciel told no one and circled the yes with a highlighter.

Now was that so hard?

On the paper this time, below the initial question. Ciel tore the looseleaf from his binder and balled it in his fist where it erupted in cool flames and fell like ash between his fingers. Not wanting to leave a mess, especially where he sat, Ciel brought his book over to the garbage can, dumped it out, packed up and went to his next class, not bothering to erase the board, confident it wouldn’t be there once the room was empty.

The rest of the day passed without incident, which was a welcomed change for Ciel. Sebastian hadn’t tried to pull rank in his other classes; as was expected, he outshone the other pupils in physical education and was quick to pin all the students beneath him when they practiced wrestling. The omegas who never participated prior to today’s lesson lined up en masse to to train with the incubus. He seemed more than happy to do so, and with each victory, the smell of slick filled the already stuffy gymnasium. When Sebastian motioned for Ciel to come have a turn, the boy merely excused himself to use the restroom and never came back, opting instead to hang out at the water fountain between changerooms. He overheard a small group of alphas slandering the new student, trying to come up with a feasible way to knock him down a few pegs. Ciel simply walked away, shaking his head and laughing to himself, internally wishing them luck and maybe hoping they might succeed a tiny bit.

Lunch was… lunch. He ate with Finny, who had been placed in another class to keep them apart. It was protocol that the omegas from the home should not receive the same instruction in case they decided to help one another out. It didn’t stop Ciel and Finny though; they compared notes nightly, quizzed one another despite their semesters being opposites. And while Finny aspired to nothing more than being a good mate, he was adamant that he would not be one of those illiterate omegas who could teach their offspring nothing.

Sebastian sat across the cafeteria from them, occasionally making eye contact with his master as he was fed, massaged and talked at by no less than a dozen students. At one point, Irene had crawled up onto the table and laid down before him, exposing her lean omegan frame by undoing the buttons of her dress shirt and allowing the incubus to sample her lunch off her quivering belly.

“I wish I had the confidence to do that,” Finny told him watching as Sebastian dipped his tongue into the blonde’s navel, making her squirm and giggle.

“You want to stick your tongue in someone’s belly button? That’s disgusting; but if it’ll make you stop gawking and make you feel better, you can have mine when we get back home,” Ciel told him, offering him half his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“No, not that,” Finny blushed, waving away the food, “what Irene’s doing. God, he’s so hot. I’d sell my soul to the devil for a mate like that. All he’d have to do is look and me and BOOM! pregnant.”

“He’s not that hot. He’s too full of himself to be attractive. That kind of arrogance is such a turn off. Hey…” Ciel turned Finny’s head to face him, away from Sebastian, “I’m quoting you directly. You’ve said this about hundreds of alphas. This one’s not special. You’re better than that, you know, to be splayed on a table, on display like that for someone’s amusement. Some people are just… they’re sad, Finny.”

“Are you slut shaming?” his friend asked, stealing a sip of chocolate milk from their shared container, and drinking it all up.

“No, I’m airhead shaming. Come on, Finny, just because you’re fed a bullshit line your whole life, doesn’t mean you have to believe it.” Ciel got up from the table, picked up his trash and turned towards the door, “You coming? I don’t want to watch this anymore.”

“No, I’m going to stay here and fantasize about the father of my pups,” Finny told him sheepishly, his eyes never leaving the front of the cafeteria.

Nobody noticed as Ciel left, except for maybe one set of fiery orbs.

Algebra came and went, as did English. His one major blessing today had been Druitt’s atypical absence. Ciel didn’t question the lucky turn of events, but callously hoped that whatever had prevented his teacher from showing up today was serious enough to keep him away a while longer. He didn’t want him dead, only in prolonged agony (that would eventually lead to death).

The dismissal bell rang and Ciel took his time getting to his locker prior to meeting Sebastian in the Science Lab. To his surprise (and relief), it was without tags or bodily fluids and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Got off easy today huh?” Ronald remarked, slamming his locker next to Ciel’s. It rattled those at either side and sent Ciel’s small magnetic mirror crashing to the floor. “Seven years bad luck…” The alpha laughed as he walked away.

“Great, add that to my first eighteen,” Ciel grumbled, and gathered the pieces one at a time, careful not to cut himself on the shards. He’d barely picked up four when he heard Ronald yelp and stumble down the flight of stairs at the end of the hall. A smile stretched across Ciel’s face and he took off in the opposite direction, heading towards the science floor.

When he got to his destination, he could see through the window on the door that the room was dark, the thick green curtained blinds having been pulled across the windows as they usually were at the end of the day. He was nonplussed at finding the door unlocked, likely the demon’s doing, and he let himself in. He flicked but one switch, sat upon the nearest table and waited.

And waited.

Five, ten, twenty minutes.

Thirty minutes later, he hopped off the table, rubbing his soft, growling belly. If he left now, he might make it on time for dinner and not have to miss it for the second night in a row. He’d had so little at lunch today, and he thought perhaps his hunger contributed nearly as much to his aggravation as the demon did.

It also contributed to his lack of attention for the time being, so that when he came to the door, he bumped into a life-sized, human skeleton that had not been there previously.

“Jesus Shit Fuck!” Ciel yelled into his hands, “Sebastian, god… dammit, that wasn’t… funny!”

The skeleton doubled over, clutching it’s absent abdomen and shook with a laughter that did not belong to it. “You’re right, young master, it was hilarious,” Sebastian snickered, moving the anatomical model as he came into the lab, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You’re late,” Ciel scolded, still trying to catch his breath, “and in a dubiously good mood.”

The incubus flicked his wrist and the skeleton fell back into its rightful place. He sat himself on the teacher’s elongated desk, loosened and removed his tie, only to have it breech the distance between them and secure itself loosely around Ciels neck. “Ah, yes, about that, I was rather busy. I’ve filled my calendar for the next six months. They’re just throwing themselves at me, Ciel. Alphas too, and you’d never guess who! I don’t know why I never thought of going to high school before.”

Had Ciel heard correctly? Had he really been waiting here this entire time, just to let Sebastian work on his little black book? “It’s because you’re old. And a demon.” Ciel grouched, lurching forward, pulled by the tie towards the incubus, though it was out of his reach and stumbled between the demon’s open legs, catching himself on Sebastian’s thighs.

The incubus wrapped his hand around the boy’s tie and brought their faces close to one another, “Don’t get all high and mighty about being human. A lot of your kind are just as nasty as mine. And I’m not that old. I turned a thousand and four last year; where I’m from, that makes me a teenager, just like you.”

Well that explained a lot.

Ciel stood there, not bothering to fight the demon’s invasion of his space -- it’s not like it would do any good. And because he had nothing else to add, and assuming Sebastian would eventually get around to telling him why they needed to meet here, he simply said, “I see.”

“Yes, so I’ll be walking you home -- that is to say, out of sight-- to make sure that you’re safe, that there are no other alphas around posing a threat and then I’ll bid you goodnight. I have six rendez-vous tonight.” Sebastian released the boy, but Ciel did not move.

“Is that so?” Ciel answered petulantly, licking his teeth behind his lips. “We might have a small problem then, because I assumed that when I sealed our covenant, that you were my demon.” Of course Ciel thought nothing of the sort, but it was rather amusing to try to stick it to Sebastian for his behaviour today. “Are you in the habit of serving more than one master?”

“Absolutely not! That goes against our aesthetic!” the demon responded quite affronted.

“And yet, if you leave my side, leave my dwelling unprotected for even ten minutes, how can you assure my well-being?” Ciel smirked.

“In the event that-”

Ciel cut him off. “Mine. I own you. Don’t forget who it is you serve, Sebastian Michaelis.”

“Master, you shouldn’t talk in such a way,” the demon’s voice dropped an octave and walked the fine line between seductive human and skilled predator. His hands came behind Ciel’s back and traveled up and down his spine against the soft cotton of his shirt.

Ciel shuddered. How many omegas had these hands been on today? What had they done in his absence. An embodiment of sweet and sour befell them and Ciel did not understand where it came from. Normally, disgust was a bitter scent, sharp and repugnant. This was altogether different.

“Is that jealousy, Ciel?”

If Sebastian were a dog, his ears would have stood up and he’d have cocked his head to the side, sniffing the air. As it was, he simply pulled Ciel closer, ripped the collar off his shirt and stuffed his nose near the omega’s scent gland.

“Hey, get away from there…” he objected, “It’s not jealousy.” He wasn’t exactly sure he’d recognize the petty emotion, never having experienced it since his attachment to possessions and people were non-existent. “I just can’t have you blowing this for us. What if you lose yourself with someone else,” his heart began to thump a little harder, “went all demonic with your black gooey stuff,” his toes curled in his wine-coloured socks, “or if those… those things came out…”

“Tendrils, master?”

“Yeah those. Tendrils,” he exhaled shakily, “If someone saw that…”

Sebastian licked his lips, and Ciel felt the ghost of his tongue along his sensitized skin, just below his ear. “Little omega, did you think I was actually going to fuck them? I only steal their energy. Yours is the only body I have any desire to ravage.”

“Wait, you mean, what we did at the tree… I didn’t need to do that? You didn’t have to lick my… my…”

“You most certainly did need it, didn’t you? I bet you’ve never slept more peacefully. In fact, I know you haven’t. I could hear your adorable sleepy sounds through your window, and the wind carried your unconscious desire for more of my touch, young master. Do you remember calling for me? I couldn’t stay away, your whimpers were like a siren’s song; I saw you touch yourself in slumber.” Sebastian slid off the desk, his sinful body smoothing Ciel’s front, as his hardened, restrained cock pressed itself unceremoniously against the omega’s stomach. He flipped their positions so that Ciel was against the the teacher’s desk and he hoisted him up, keeping his hands firmly on the boy’s thin waist. “And strictly speaking, your seed is not a requirement. I liken it to what you humans call dessert.”

“I like cake and ice cream, demon, and that… what you licked off my fingers, that was no dessert,” the omega argued, a note of panic creeping into his voice, breaking it and his authoritative facade. At this height on the desk, their mouths were practically joined up.

Sebastian leaned in, sensing the omega’s inherent curiosity beneath the apprehension and ignorance. “It’s an acquired taste, young master, one you’ll grow to love, I assure you.”

Ciel’s lips trembled in response, and a weak, “No way in Hell,” hung between them.

Sebastian’s right hand sped to Ciel’s hair and made a fist in the slate locks as his other slid around the back of the omega’s neck and pulled his mouth to his. The boy tried to recoil at the demon’s sudden show of force, but he held him fast. “It doesn’t have to be now,” he soothed, his knee coming up on the desk as he gently moved Ciel back and climbed atop the epoxy surface himself to face the boy. “Please master, I’ve done well today, haven’t I? You were always safe, weren’t you?”

Sebastian had been right earlier in the utility closet; for all his past traumas, Ciel had become numb, unable to fully appreciate the lure of an alpha’s scent, even when biologically predisposed to do so. But the incubus was no alpha, despite the fact that he had paraded himself as such today. Now that the devil’s face was hovering over his own, their lower halves but a hair’s breadth apart, Ciel’s body gave into the sweet, blissful, mouthwatering aroma of chocolate. He all but melted under Sebastian, as he nodded, “Yes, safe.”

The omega’s stomach snarled, giving voice to his hunger pangs; if what Sebastian had said was true, that he had starved for some six months, it was cruel to deny him, was it not? “Are you really, truly hungry? Or are you being a gourmand? Tell the truth, Sebastian.”

“I’m ravenous, young master,” the incubus supplicated, hands wrapping around Ciel’s slender hips, pushing himself between the omega’s legs, rubbing his clothed lower body against Ciel’s rear, forcing it to come off the table. Sebastian’s hands moved from hips to plump, fleshy globes, two handfuls, and squeezed as Ciel pressed his back into the desk turning his head as to not look at Sebastian.

“Don’t…” Sebastian begged, rocking his hips hard into Ciel, his cock thickening as it brushed up against the small omega one. “Don’t bite your lip like that. I told you, I’m hungry. I need your sound, your scent, all your arousal.”

“Then get my trousers; strip me to my underwear, these just get in the way. Hurry before I change my mind and decide you don’t deserve this,” Ciel ordered him, panting in his mouth and inhaling the devil’s own breath in return.

Sebastian growled his assent, tearing the fabric to shreds and his own. His long legs straddled Ciel and he aligned their covered cocks through the tented, flimsy material. His large hand held them both and he crushed them together, the sensation part way between pain and pleasure. He squeezed them, base first, dragged the pressure upwards and came back down again.

Ciel throbbed against Sebastian. He thought his cockhead would explode every time the incubus’ fingers caught on the flared corona. He writhed under him, hips bucking, legs thrashing, muscles in his belly tightening as Sebastian stroked their lengths. As if the wetness that seeped through, leaving them both damp in their underwear was not enough, slick spilled from Ciel’s hole. The devil used it to his advantage and their clothed cocks bathed in it, the material clinging and making it impossible not to trace the outline of each minute detail of every vein, every curve. When Sebastian fell forward to lap greedily at Ciel’s scent gland, their dicks rubbed against one another, brushing and caressing, and Ciel hated it, hated it, hated it.

“Moan for me Ciel. Feed me. Beautiful omega! Mine! Only mine!” the incubus cried out, the windows rattling loudly, the contents of pickled jars around them danced in their fluids.

Ciel shook his head, teeth biting down harder to suppress the noises that wanted to escape his mouth.

Finally, he whined, but in response to the abrupt change of position. He lay flat on his tummy against the cold counter, and Sebastian was behind him, pulling his hips up and began to rut into his drenched backside with enough force to drive the breath out of Ciel’s mouth.

“Ah! Hnnng… Se...bas… tian! Nnnnngh!” the poor omega fussed his fists gripping the sides of the teacher’s desk as the demon railed into him from behind, grinding his cock between his covered ass cheeks. Sebastian squeezed them together, hugging his dick between them as he moved, his heavy demon’s balls spreading the wetness. The slick ran down the boy’s thighs and suddenly Ciel loved it. Couldn’t get enough of it.

He could hear smacking sounds from behind him, like someone licking and sucking their fingers and as he turned his head to the right, Ciel caught their reflection along the shiny whiteboard: him bouncing in sync with every thrust Sebastian had to give, and Sebastian, licking his palm, three fingers in his mouth as he slammed repeatedly into Ciel.

The sound the omega made next was so lewd, the incubus stilled his movements. “You’re so close, I can taste it in the air. Satisfy me. Allow me to feast on you again.”

Faster than what was possible, Sebastian moved under Ciel’s backside, his long legs hanging off the teacher’s desk, so that Ciel was sat upon the demon’s face. His devil’s tongue came out, prodding Ciel, feeling it’s way along the the crevice of his ass. The omega tried to move, but was kept there by Sebastian’s hands so that Ciel was flush against his face. He wiggled it, getting as deep as possible, chin, mouth, nose and cheeks smeared with slick as he tasted him, rimmed the contour of Ciel’s puckered entrance through his underwear.

Ciel’s mouth went slack, voicing his begrudging pleasure, riding Sebastian’s face, rolling his hips, and toppling over, sweaty palms trembling on the black surface as he continued to grind back. Finally, he felt Sebastian’s fingers graze his rear, but only to push aside the fabric and let his tongue slither its way into the tight heat and past the first ring of muscle. “Mmm… Sebastian! Sebaaaaaaastian!”

As the demon licked and tongue fucked the omega, the sopping appendage added to the wetness raining down on Sebastian’s sodden face and Ciel cried fat tears of ecstasy, sobbing as he warned the demon of his impending orgasm. “Close… close… hah! Fuck yes! There! There! Sebastian!”

The incubus gave a muffled groan, pumped his tongue in and out of Ciel again and again, driving over a knot of nerves as Ciel’s screaming turned frantic, muscle tightening around him, gripping him hard. The boy went rigid and Sebastian drove deeper as come sprang from his small master’s cock, to mix with the heady concoction of delights that poured into the demon’s mouth: sweat and desire, seed and slick. He pulled out his tongue and sucked the fabric noisily, the suckling sounds those of contentment and pride.

Ciel’s head fell into his folded arms as he let himself be cleaned and it was only when he turned his head towards the whiteboard again to watch that he realized that one of the reflections cast upon it, was not his nor the devil’s.

Chapter Text

Drawn-out, muffled half-hum-half-moans ricocheted around the Science Lab as Sebastian mouthed greedily at the omega’s drenched panties. His unnecessary breathing had become a little heavier, and certainly deeper and louder. It oscillated between a spectrum of perversion and indecency, and climbed in both sweetness and intensity with ecstasy flooding the devil and spilling out of his lust-wrecked body.

Ciel doubted the incubus could even hear over the wet lip smacking, lecherous sucking and desperate slurping. “Stupid demon! Let me get off!” he ordered nonetheless, one hand splayed across Sebastian’s face underneath him as the other tried to push off the table. The incubus’ tongue was still buried deep inside him, still pulsed and licked at his walls to the point where Ciel’s sensitive body hurt from the overstimulation.

Sebastian was a needy, panting mess when he came up for air; gasping as if he’d been drowning in Ciel’s subtly tart aroma and omegan juices. He removed his tongue from Ciel’s tasty depths and lapped longingly at the stained flesh of the boy’s backside, talking between the swipes of the soft, practiced muscle. “But Master... you just did… and I’m ever so grateful.”

“No, you shit! Let go of me! There’s someone --” He struggled getting up on his knees, Sebastian’s hands holding his hips firmly in place over his face so he could dip his nose against Ciel’s balls and nuzzle them. The omega reached towards the opposite end of the desk, grabbed the heavy stapler and clocked Sebastian in the forehead with it. Claws slipped from his waist and he climbed off the teacher’s workspace. The extra reflection on the whiteboard had disappeared and once his uniform pants were sufficiently pulled up, Ciel stumbled into the hall to catch any sight of them.

Whoever it was, they were long gone.

“Well get up!” he commanded the demon. Ciel’s voice, though still weak with exertion was unmistakably raw with panic. “Go find the sneak!”

“Hmm?” Sebastian was splayed on the desk, arms overhead in a wanton display, hips still jerking vaguely up into nothing, as his head lolled to the side to look at his master. “Too full, can’t move. That was delicious.”

The stupid oaf. He looked every bit an alpha now. Dumb, lazy and gluttonous. Like he’d consumed an entire Thanksgiving meal on his own. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Are you… drunk on sex, Sebastian?” he cursed the demon out. Of course he was; the incubus’ movements were sluggish, uncoordinated, his red eyes clouded over and glassy. “No,” he said, approaching the demon cautiously, trying to sit him up, “you don’t get to do this to me; go after whoever that was! You can smell ‘em or something, can’t you?”

“Huh? No can do, babe,” Sebastian waved off the omega languidly, “not until I work this off.”

“Perfect! You can start with a run! Go! They can’t have gotten that far by now.” Ciel pushed at Sebastian’s back trying to get him off the desk but he might as well have been pushing a mountain for all the good it did.

“Not that kind of working off, Ciel.” The last word was a taunt and the omega confirmed that with the smirk that tugged idly at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. The demon stretched, arching his back, then unbuttoned his trousers. “You know, if you help, this’ll go much faster.”

The look Ciel gave Sebastian was one of utter incredulity. There he was, sat upon the edge of the desk, whipping his dick out, while someone was out there with potentially reputation-destroying information. “I don’t believe this, I don’t even know what to do with you right now,” he said exasperated, throwing his hands up and pacing up and down a row of desks.

“Come here, omega, I’ll show you how. It’s not difficult… Mmm… that feels good… would feel so much better with your tight little hand around it,” Sebastian groaned.

Ciel turned on his heel when he reached the back of the class to make for the front again and he could see the demon’s cock clearly from where he stood some twenty-five feet away. Sebastian’s fist held the base and there was at least an additional six to seven inches that hadn’t been swallowed up by the incubus’ hand. Unconsciously, he covered his mouth and shook his head. His cerulean eyes were bulging; he’d heard alphas were big but there was no way they’d ever come close to a hellspawn.

“It won’t bite, come on, help me and I’ll go after your spy,” Sebastian cooed, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand so that he could smear the pearly-slick fluid onto his erection. “Ahh, better.” And it seemed to be; he stroked himself a little faster and every time he got to the head of his cock and twisted his wrist, it made a sleek, wet sound. “I’m too tired for this, come jerk off your demon.”

“No.” Ciel told him swatting the tendrils that had come for him, either to entice him forward or to force him to pleasure the incubus. “I don’t want to-- just, get it over with already.” He turned his back, refusing to be an audience to Sebastian’s depravity.

Sebastian snarled. “You can’t just keep taking Ciel, you need to give back sometimes too. You didn’t really see anyone did you? You just don’t want to reciprocate. How selfish of you.” The demon leaned back, hands supporting himself on the desk behind him as his coiled darkness took over for his hand.

“You asked to be fed, you bastard! Begged for it! I didn’t want that!” Irritated beyond any modesty, he marched right up to the demon and pushed his finger accusingly into his chest, keeping his eyes decidedly on Sebastian’s face.

Ciel’s proximity excited the demon, his breathing became more laboured and multiple tendrils began tending to his fat, swollen cock; one rubbed up and down the length, while another surrounded the head, enveloping it in a heat similar to that of a mouth, and a third, fourth and fifth disappeared into the incubus’ trousers to fondle and tease him. “That’s not what your body said,” Sebastian panted. “Your tight little hole squeezed my tongue. Ahh shit! And you fucked it, like a good little whore, didn’t you? Deny it all you want, but you rode my face, Ciel. Bouncing on it. Grinding your ass up against my mouth. Owning your incubus with your slick and cum.”

Ciel whined. It was true, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “I don’t have time for this, Sebastian. What are we gonna do about that person?”

Sebastian’s head fell back, his hair was swept out of his eyes by another tendril as his shirt became undone on its own, exposing the smooth alabaster skin and pierced peaked nipples that were hidden beneath. “Hah… I’ll find them… kill them if you want. Anything. Just… touch me. Watch me.”

This needed to be over with and fast; it was bad enough he’d been roped into letting the demon feed off him. Ciel rose to his tiptoes at the incubus’ side, pressed soft lips just below Sebastian’s ear, and let his seductive, whispered breath raise goosebumps along the strained neck. “You can’t go around killing people. Think of the mess you’d leave behind. You’re a sloppy demon, aren’t you, Sebastian? Just look at the way you eat. There’d be blood and guts everywhere.” He rolled his eyes, glad the incubus couldn’t see him as he kept crooning, pink tongue caressing the shell of the incubus’ ear, “You’d be covered in it, mouth and chin and hands, just like you are now, dripping with me.”

Sebastian grit his teeth, top lip curling in a semi-snarl as a half dozen tendrils tended to his cock. It shouldn’t have done anything to the omega, but the demonic seeping through the incubus’ facade aroused Ciel, made his scent thick in the air, causing Sebastian to growl, “I’ve always wanted to fuck on a mountain of corpses.” The windows shook violently in their frames and the lights flickered off and on.

For a teenager, it sure was taking Sebastian a long time to get off, Ciel thought, pulling away from him to round the desk and stand before him. Without getting tangled in the mess of coils stroking the demon, he fisted either side of his unbuttoned shirt and with a vexing “just finish already,” slammed his lips against Sebastian’s.

Sebastian returned his kiss, deepening it, moaning and groaning into Ciel’s mouth with hitched breaths, then with a vicious blast of darkened energy, threw the omega against the wall across the classroom, keeping him suspended by the neck.

“Stay there!” Sebastian growled ferociously at him as Ciel thrashed, legs kicking, hands trying to put space between the tight hold around his neck.

He was so focused on trying not to be strangulated that he missed the demon’s body going rigid, missed the hiss and broken sigh of release. What he did not miss was the thick, black, viscous spurts that painted his chest, neck and cheek.

Abruptly, whatever aura was holding him up let go, and he fell six feet to the floor. Erotic sounds were quickly replaced by a gut-level, raucous laughter. “You should see your face,” Sebastian chuckled, walking up to him, avoiding swaths of cum splattered here and there on the linoleum and regretfully thumbing away a string of sticky onyx dripping from Ciel’s cheek.

The omega scowled. Even though he’d wanted to speed up the process, he’d not foreseen being rejected that way and had at least thought Sebastian would have had the courtesy to not use him as some kind of oozy-semen-target.

“Oh, don’t look so offended, little one, black is definitely your colour. You should wear me more often.” With that said, Sebastian’s school uniform righted itself and he made his way towards the door.

“Hey, asshole! You can’t just leave me like this,” Ciel bellowed. And given the state and stench of the room, Mr. Kelvin would definitely notice that something was not quite right.

Sebastian turned around, facing Ciel with an infuriating handsome and innocent look. “But I thought we had to hurry to catch your little spy?”

“Of course, but…” Ciel made a grand gesture, pointing out the disarray in the class, then in an exaggerated flourish of his hand, pointed to his soiled uniform.

“Fine, but if they get away, it’s all your fault.” The incubus snapped his fingers and his spoils were non-existent. “Can we go now?”

Ciel eyed the heavy stapler on the desk again, tempted to chuck it at Sebastian’s head just to hear him grunt in pain, but it had hardly done anything before, hadn’t even left a mark, so he simply envisioned stapling the stupid demon’s mouth shut instead. “So, can you smell anything? Pick up a scent of someone?” Ciel asked falling in step with the incubus.

“What do you think I am? Some sort of dog?” Sebastian scoffed, running a hand through his hair and adjusting the bulge at the front of his trousers.

Ciel made a concerted effort not to look, staring blankly ahead when he asked by way of distraction, “Do you honestly want me to answer that? Seriously though, your senses seem more keen than a humans’, can you hear or see or smell anything?”

“Not a thing, which could only mean it’s an omega.”

“How are you so sure?” Ciel wanted to add, you arrogant piece of shit, but as Sebastian was being somewhat useful at the moment, he thought it best not to antagonize the incubus.

They walked aimlessly along the third floor hallway, then descended to the second. “I can smell omegas, betas and alphas. Each has a very distinct quality to their scent. But someone at lunch today mentioned that your kind often use blockers when they’re close to a heat. And right now, since I can’t smell anyone I’m willing to guess it’s an omega… or no one at all, since I still think you’re making it up.”

Ciel slowed as they neared his locker; even from this distance, he could tell it had been tampered with and defaced. He was sure he’d locked it up prior to meeting Sebastian, but the lock was thrown to the ground and it was ajar, littered with palm-sized images stuck to the grey fade of metal and in crumpled balls on the floor. He didn’t have to get any closer to know that the damage here was related to what they’d been caught doing. A roiling nausea knocked him breathless, and he leaned against a locker three spaces away trying to fight down the angry tears that had welled up.

How could he have been so stupid? So careless? He’d counted on a demon, among all things, to keep him safe!

Either Sebastian didn’t notice, or he simply didn’t care. He ripped the pictures off the locker to examine them and his eyes bulged at what he saw.

That couldn’t be good.

“Wow,” he said, stretching the word as if it contained ten syllables instead of one, then he held it up in Ciel’s face so he could get an eyeful. “This is a great shot! Look at your ass, it’s positively luscious!” He switched pictures, “And in this one, you’re almost smiling.” He inspected the picture more closely, changing the angle at which he held it, “Ah, that’s why; look Ciel, my tongue is all the way up inside you.”

Ciel recoiled, scrunching up his nose and smacking the demon’s arm. “Get that out of my face! Do you still think I made it up now? Someone saw! Not only did they see it, they took pictures of it! They printed them! Fuck.”

Sebastian flipped through the ten or so pictures he held, selected one, put it in his back pocket and the rest went up in blue flames along with the discarded ones on the floor. “That would have taken a lot of time though, wouldn’t it?”

“About as much time as rubbing one off,” Ciel sighed loudly, eyes to the ceiling. He pushed the demon aside and examined the inside of his locker, nothing was missing, but his books and spare hoodie were torn to shreds. “Some students have those zip mobile printers, so it’s easy enough for someone to have taken the pictures with their phones and to have printed them out.” He shot the books and shirt onto the floor, they were beyond repair, and they too caught fire.

Sebastian slammed the locker shut and pulled Ciel away from it. His distress had only increased and it was leaving an undesirable taste on the incubus’ tongue. “I imagine not everyone has this kind of… technology.”

They went down the central stairwell, having given up on finding their voyeur and stopped just short of the doors leading outside. “To be honest, the only person I know for sure has one is Irene.”

“Who’s that?”

Irritated, Ciel looked up at the incubus from under his long lashes, “She’s the blonde you had for lunch. God, you’re such a thot you don’t even remember who you have spread in front of you on a cafeteria table. You disgust me, you know that?”

He tilted the omega’s chin up, noting the quickening pulse and the look of defiance that met him; both sparked a renewed surge of hunger in the incubus. He gazed down at the boy’s yielding body, then back up at his parted lips, shaped like a surprised little ‘o’. Sebastian’s eyebrows arched and he smiled suggestively, voice low and predatory, “I don’t disgust you. I rouse something else in you entirely Ciel. Call it whatever you want, jealousy, possessiveness, but don’t call it disgust; that makes you a liar.”

Ciel snorted, pulling his face back. “Whatever. You keep telling yourself that. The more you pretend to be an alpha, the closer you are to one.” He pushed open the door leading outside, feeling a gust of hot air dance about his ankles. It seemed unseasonably warm for September but he might also have simply been flushed from head to toe.

“Anyhow, Irene’s the blonde with the annoyingly high pitched voice who let you eat food off her chest. She’s always taking selfies and printing them so she can give them out as signed autographs, as if she was a movie star. Come to think of it, you two might make a good pair,” Ciel smiled tight-lipped walking on his own towards the orphanage. He knew Sebastian could hear him, was trailing him sight unseen.

He continued his monologue. It felt good not to have to hear the incubus’ snide remarks or his condescending, know-it-all tone. “Maybe you were right, though. Our best option would be to do away with her, or whoever saw us. I can’t get kicked out of school, or have alphas think this is how I normally am.”

He heard an echo of a chuckle. “Shut up, I’m not usually like this. You’re my… first. And I don’t wanna be with an alpha. Maybe I can find myself a nice omega to settle down with.” More laughter, something akin to a pfffft sound.

“It could happen,” Ciel shrugged, trying more to convince himself than the demon, to whom he owed nothing. He fished his key out of his pocket and let himself into his home. When he got to his room, he threw himself on his bed and buried himself under his blanket, glad to finally get some alone time so he could think around this problem. Murder wasn’t something he condoned, but he wasn’t sure how far this individual (Irene) would be willing to take it. It’s not like he had any material goods he could exchange for her silence -- and besides, he wouldn’t be the one committing murder...

“You know, I’d pay to watch that,” Sebastian told him, sitting on the window ledge, tossing him an apple he’d plucked from the backyard, “some sweet omega on omega action. That’d be hot!”

Ciel fumbled with the fruit, but caught it in the end. It was fragrant, much more than usual and it made his mouth water.

Sebastian inhaled the enticing scent of assuagement. Ciel was feeling comforted, taken care of. “Go ahead, I didn’t poison it. I’m to protect you, remember? Not harm you. This spy on the other hand… I could do away with them for you, but it would mean amending our contract.”

Ciel sat up, bringing his knees to his chest and bit into the fruit, the juices smothering his lips. He chewed and swallowed the fragment of apple and asked, “How so?”

Sebastian ran his hands over his chest and swept his school uniform from his person as if it were personally offending him. In its place, a form-fitting v-neck shirt and faded low-riding jeans clung to his slender form. His red sneakers matched the shade of the baseball cap he wore and he turned it back to better see Ciel and explained, “If you recall, Master, our covenant states that I’m to keep you safe from alphas. If we include omegas, I’m going to have to ask you to accompany me back to my home to rule the underworld as a means of raising the stakes, so to speak.”

Ciel laughed, and took another bite. “Talk about the inmates running the asylum. No thank you. Shit. What am I gonna do? If this person was able to print out those pictures, they might be all over social media by now.”

“I don’t think so. You don’t have wi-fi here, do you?” Sebastian asked coming off the windowsill and stepping into Ciel’s room, out of sight of the room’s entrance.

“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Sebastian grinned, his expression akin to a cat that got the cream. “Well, I might have good news, Master. At the moment, I can account for the scent of thirteen omegas, including yours. How many currently reside at this address?”

“F-fourteen...” Ciel looked at the demon suspiciously, understanding coming to him at a snail’s pace. He saw where Sebastian was going with his point, but he refused to believe any of his brothers or sisters would blackmail him.

“And do they all attend school with you?”

“Of course. None of us are technically adults yet.” But Ciel had long considered himself one with the way he’d had to care for and raise Finny and a few of the others. Most of them had lost their innocent view of the world before even coming to the orphanage. Most of them had seen more than the adults that came to take them away and force them into a life of slavery.

“Well there you have it, one of them is wearing a blocker, one of them is close to their heat and is your spy. Boo-ya!”

“No one says Boo-ya anymore. When’s the last time you were even here?” Ciel griped. More to stave off his feelings of betrayal than anything else, the omega changed the topic, “Wait, did you know this prior to your stupid offer to make an addendum to the contract?”

The demon shrugged, “Obviously,” and walked towards the room’s opening, bowed and gestured for his master to go on.

“God, I hate you,” Ciel seethed, hopping off the bed and throwing the core of the apple into his rubbish bin.

“And depending on where you pause, that’s a MOOD.” Barely-there tendrils rummaged through the garbage and fetched the core for Sebastian. He licked it clean, saying something about it tasting like Ciel, then shot it against the wall where it rebounded and found a resting place at the bottom of the bin.

“You need to stay here while I take care of this. Where are they? Where’s the lack of pheromone coming from?” Ciel wasn’t a fan of confrontation, but he knew his orphanage siblings. Some sense could be talked into them, couldn’t it? He’d heard most of them fuck at one point or another during their heats; only he and Finny hadn’t… hadn’t...

“The room right across the hall from this one,” Sebastian responded. There was hurt and confusion in his master’s features. It made him seem weak, and the demon didn’t like it one bit. He preferred Ciel cocky and confident, wielding comebacks and insults like weapons, unafraid to stare fear in the face.

Ciel gave a curt nod and left Sebastian alone. He walked by Johanne’s room, catching a glimpse of the blond dancing about, singing along to a song on the radio. He called to Ciel to join him, but Ciel merely waved him off and walked single-mindedly to Finny’s room.

He didn’t bother announcing himself; theirs was a relationship that transcended any kind of formal invitation. “Finny, we need to ta--”

Ciel ducked in time to avoid a pillow. When he recovered, the sight that met him was one of utter devastation. Finny was sitting on his heels, face red and wet with tears. The window adjacent to the bed was fogged from the bottom up and there was a noticeable difference in temperature when Ciel took those two first steps over the threshold. It was hot. Heat was radiating off his friend’s skin in palpable waves.

“Get outta here, Ciel! I hate you!” Finny cried, launching a second pillow at his friend.

This time Ciel caught it and tossed it aside. He pulled up the drape that hung on one side of the frame and jumped up twice, securing the other side to afford them a modicum of privacy. He puzzled over Finny’s grossly out of place reaction, then stared in horror at the shrine he’d erected of Sebastian -- dozens upon dozens of pictures printed from every angle, closeups and action shots.

“When did you get a printer?” Ciel asked forgetting himself.

“Really? This is what you have to say for yourself?” Finny bunched up his comforter, forming a nest around his small body and held on tight to the fabric. “Not, sorry for lying to you, Finny? Or, I’m sorry for stealing your mate? I loved him. How could you do this to me?” The normally adorable blond screamed, head thrown back, chest heaving painfully and that’s when Ciel got a strong whiff of baby roses and citrus notes. The blockers had reached their limit.

“Finny,” Ciel said, putting his hands up in front of him, approaching the boy as if he were a wild animal, “you’re having your first heat, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t love Sebastian, you don’t even know him.”

Finny deserved so much better. There were no alphas worthy of him. None that would treat him as gently and kindly as he needed.

“Oh, and you do?!” Finny spat, gasping for air between words. “You could have had anyone you wanted Ciel. Cuz you’re an alphatease. A cockslut! But no! You went after the one I wanted. I told you I wanted him. Now I’m gonna tell everyone what a backstabber you are. Show the alphas just the way you like it! ”

The bottom fell out of Ciel’s stomach. This was way worse than it if had been Irene. How was Ciel supposed to know Finny was serious when he’d gushed about Sebastian? Ciel watched as the boy writhed in his sheets and his hands hovered over him at a loss for what to do. In between bawling and screeching, Finny rubbed himself up against a pillow, school uniform wet from slick, eyes rolling back and glazed from both crying and panic. Ciel came closer, wanted to soothe away the hurt, and the boy’s nails cut into the side of his face, leaving three distinct scratches that bled along his cheek and jaw.

A knock came at the door frame and both Ciel and Finny shouted, “Go away!”

“Do you need me to call for an alpha, Finny?” It was Grell. Someone must have alerted them to the distress and noises coming from Finny’s room.

“No!” Ciel called out at the same time Finny wailed “Yes!”

“No, Finny,” he hissed between them, “You know what those alphas do. They’ll hurt you. None of our brothers or sisters are ever screaming in pleasure,” Ciel crawled onto the bed with his friend and held Finny’s face in place as his head thrashed and arms flailed. “Finny, they’ll rape you. Over and over. Hannah almost died last month. McMillan did last year, remember? Loss of blood? He was black and blue when they brought his body out. His legs were broken. IN TWELVE PLACES. You know this. I won't let one of them do that to you! You just can't think right now.”

Finny seemed to calm down and Ciel rested his forehead against the blond’s. “Please tell Grell no. I’ll… I’ll help you,” he whispered. Ciel was sure this was the reason Finny had forced himself to make an attachment to Sebastian; the devil he knew was better than the devil he didn't.

But Ciel was thrown back onto the floor, fell hard on his ass as Finny’s logic retreated once more.

“Yes Grell! Alpha. Please an alpha,” he begged. Even over the screaming, they heard Grell’s retreating steps. “Get an alpha. They’ll do anything I say like this. Want my omega cunt so bad. Do anything. Hurt you. Alpha will hurt you if I say,” the boy lamented, panting and sweating, trying unsuccessfully to remove his clothes.

The drape was torn clean off its hooks, and in walked Sebastian with a stern look on his face. He put himself between the crazed boy and his master and growled, “That’s quite enough, Finnian.”

Finny whimpered and sniffed, drying his eyes on the back of his hands, “A-alpha?”

Chapter Text

When he was six, Ciel had gone to his father’s study to steal a book to read while his brother and parents hosted a party to celebrate his father’s promotion. His father kept the Encyclopedias and work books at the very top of the shelf. They were thick, had little to no pictures and really were not worth the effort of him climbing up there to retrieve one. The books beneath those were a bit better, and some had pretty interesting titles, but he wasn’t sold on any of them. To Kill A Mockingbird seemed too violent, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? sounded too weird and Moby Dick had him questioning why his mother would allow Vincent to read such filth, much less let him keep it out in the open where business associates could see it.

His finger touched the books one at a time, going over their well-worn spines starting at eye level and going down, until he was on his knees looking at the books on the bottom shelf. There had been a series of knick-knacks separating the books, framed photos of their family featuring his parents and twin, an abstract piece of art whose purpose Ciel couldn’t really make out, a small clock and a boat in a bottle. There was also a small intricate container, the size of his mother’s jewelry box. Ciel could tell it was expensive by all the details carved into the wood, the precious stones that had been affixed to the lid and the fact that it was the only object on the shelf without any dust. Someone took care of it.

He could hear the music coming through the stripwood floor from downstairs, heard the raucous laughter from men, and the clinking of plates and silverware. Nobody would be any the wiser, he thought to himself as he allowed curiosity to get the better of him, and slid the cover off. Inside was an array of individually wrapped bonbons, their gold casing glittering, despite how somber the room was. Ciel swallowed, his mouth suddenly filled with moisture and his stomach growled its eagerness at the treat before him. He dumped the candy out onto the floor and counted them. There were nineteen pieces. Would anyone notice if he stole one? Did his father actually count them to take inventory?

His heart stuttered when footsteps echoed down the hall coming nearer and nearer; he’d been so engrossed in the shiny, crinkly treasures that he’d forgotten to listen better. He stuffed two of them into his pocket and the rest back into the box, then barely had the time to put it back in its proper place before his mother came into the study.

“What are you doing in here, Lovey?” Rachel asked, making a beeline to her husband’s large oak desk and retrieving the decanter of some sweet-smelling liquor.

“I wanted a book. I’m bored, mom. When is everyone leaving?” he complained, and felt his pocket burn where his contraband was hidden.

“We haven’t even had dinner yet. I’m sure Tanaka will be upstairs soon with yours. You know your father won’t like you being in here, Ciel.” She walked to the door and held it open, waiting to escort him out. He took the first book his hand fell on, a thin one about a farm of some sort, and followed her. “I’ll come see you in two hours to kiss you goodnight.” She pressed her lips to his head and they went on their separate ways.

Once his mother was out of sight, he ran to his room up in the attic of the large manor and fell onto his bed. He waited for his heart to slow again before taking out the bonbons and hiding one of them for a rainy day, at the bottom of a cup overflowing with crayons. He popped the other into his mouth, and let it melt against his tongue. He hummed contentedly, flopping onto his bed in a state of utter bliss.

Finally, something that belonged to him, and him alone. Something he didn’t have to share. Something nobody else knew anything about. He’d been naughty, and he’d gotten away with it. He swelled with pride, delighted in the secrecy and even years later, had held on to those feelings, which was why he was seething from behind Sebastian’s cover.

The incubus was far better than the bonbons had ever been, because not only did he smell of the richest chocolate, the headiest, most mouth-watering aroma, but he belonged to him. Was tailored to suit his tastes and no one else’s.

“What are you doing here?” he fumed, grunting as he got gingerly to his feet. “I told you to stay in the room.”

“Y-you’re keeping Alpha f-from me?” Finny lamented, trembling hand reaching out weakly towards Sebastian. The weeping blond got to his knees and made to crawl towards the incubus before he was seized by a sharp, yielding pain and doubled over. “Alpha! Please!”

“You need to leave, Sebastian. Go!” Ciel ordered him, hands pushing his servant towards the entryway.

Sebastian turned, gripped Ciel’s wrists and glared at him, crimson eyes bright and shimmering like pomegranate seeds. His top lip curled ever so slightly, threatening a snarl of deep discontent. Claws elongated from his fingers and drifted to Ciel’s collar. The incubus’ chest rumbled, a sound so similar to an oncoming storm, that Finny was distracted momentarily and looked to the window to see if lightning would follow the thunderous sound. “Master was in danger from alphas,” Sebastian warned Ciel dangerously low, dragging him to the tips of his toes so that he could bring their faces closer to one another, “I won’t leave you if it means that there’s the chance of forfeiting my contract.”

“Aaalpha!” Finny was heaving, gasping, sobbing. Fell off the bed and clung to the hem of Sebastian’s jeans. “It hurts. Fuck me. Breed me,” he begged, rutting the floor desperately, eyes wet and pleading. The smell of baby roses overtook everything, like a heavy fog spreading itself on every surface in the room, including Ciel’s skin and clothes.

Ciel shook with the intensity of it, as if it were physically weighing him down along with Finny’s distress. It was smothering him, and he struggled to remain rational, to not wail and whimper his empathy.

Sebastian was not an indifferent spectator either. Their bond, no matter how tenuous quaked with what Ciel perceived as the war waging inside the incubus. What Finny was offering was akin to an ecclesiastical oblation, a sacrifice of the most delicious kind. First Heat. Virginity. Lust and lechery to spare. What Ciel smelled as anguish, Sebastian must taste as exquisite need and raw yearning.

Sebastian’s hands left the fabric at Ciel’s neck in favour of smoothing them over his Master’s exposed skin, his shirt, his hair as though he were leaving some of his own essence behind on them. The urgency in the devil’s touch was as unmistakable, as obvious as if he had screamed it aloud; he swallowed hard repeatedly, was muttering to himself in an arcane language Ciel couldn’t make out, until finally he hissed, “I don’t like this scent on you Master. It’s dirtying you. Come away from here and allow the guardian to fetch Finnian an alpha.”

Nothing was making sense and between getting pawed at and the other omega’s wailing, he could barely think straight. Incredulity flooded Ciel as he tried to piece together what it was they all wanted: Finny to be filled and cared for, Sebastian to both be fed and have his master safe and what of himself? He needed to keep them apart while still making sure Finny’s pain was tended to.

Ciel fell to his knees before the incubus and pried Finny’s fingers from Sebastian’s pant legs. “No. I can’t do that. They’ll hurt hi--”

“Then let me soothe him the way he needs. I don’t want you to spoil,” the incubus interrupted, growling impatiently. He held his gaze, narrowing his eyes in a way that promised violence should he not comply.

“No!” Ciel roared, his chin jutting out defiantly. Determined to banish the faint stirring of jealousy before it devoured him whole, he took Finny by the hands and led him back to his bed. The omega fought him, legs kicking wildly, hands shoving against his hold then stretching out for the alpha.

“Let me go, Ciel!” Finny shrieked, then struck his fists against the tiny chest before him, his words in rhythm with each blow. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Shh…” Sebastian cooed from beside his master, a long slender finger reaching out to press against Finny’s lips. It silenced him only a moment, then he took the digit into his mouth and sucked at it ravenously.

The demon made no effort to remove it from the heat of the blond omega’s mouth. “Lay down, Finnian,” he commanded, his voice a seductive pur that was at once authoritative and mesmerizing.

Finny only had eyes for Sebastian and followed his orders, lowering himself onto his back, knees coming up and falling to the sides. “Alpha… fuck me. It hurts. It hurts,” the boy nagged, hips rolling up at the same times his eyes followed suit to the back of his head.

“No. You’re not touching him. Stop!” Ciel yanked Sebastian’s finger out and pushed him aside. In his heated, jealous state, it was hard for him to decipher whom exactly he didn’t want touching the other. “You said… You said…” But he didn’t elaborate any more out loud. Sebastian’s words in the lab hours earlier ricocheted in his brain. Yours is the only body I have any desire to ravage, and yet here he was more than eager to fuck his best friend senseless and for what? Hadn’t he just been fed? Gluttonous. Greedy.

Sebastian sat at the edge of the bed, legs apart and pulled Ciel forcefully between them. Behind him, Finny got up again, clung to the incubus, pulled the collar of his shirt to suck marks into the skin. The demon felt the blond’s hands kneading at his chest, stretching the cotton of his fitted-T, as his warm lips laved his neck.

“Don’t be like that,” Sebastian crooned to Ciel, holding him in place between his thighs, oblivious to Finny. He scented the spike of bitter fruit rolling off his young master and touched his face affectionately with his still wet fingers. “I’ve no desire, look…” Sebastian led Ciel’s small hand to his flaccid cock and pressed it hard against it, forcing it to run along the ridge, where it stirred upon being touched. “Biological necessity can’t feed me, can’t sustain me, can’t sate me. I need desire, Ciel. I want your desire above all. I want to be rewarded by you.”

“Like a dog,” Ciel spat, somewhat impressed by how unaffected Sebastian was by the attention Finny was giving him,“now get out.”

“Very well,” Sebastian amended and got to his feet, disentangling himself from the omega in heat.

Finny bawled, got on knees and elbows and presented himself for the incubus. “Sebastian. I need you.” His drench pants stuck to him, revealing the curve of his plump bottom and every time he writhed and wriggled, Ciel found himself having to look away out of respect for his friend.

“Finny,” he said, trying to talk over the moaned pleas, “I'm going to help you through this okay?” Ciel climbed onto the bed behind his friend, reached around, hands fumbling as he unbuttoned the blond’s trousers. Finny didn't put up much of a fight and even sighed contentedly when his member was freed, sopping wet and dripping onto the threadbare mattress.

“But I want Sebastian,” Finny whined, looking over his shoulder at them both, and when his big green eyes fell on Ciel, there was unmistakable contempt in them.

“Well, you can’t have him.” Ciel was firm this time. He turned Finny over, and sat on his legs as he unbuttoned his shirt as gently as he could while the omega thrashed under him.

“Why not?”

“Because… We’re... he’s my… boyfriend. We’re dating. That’s why you saw, what you saw.” Really, what other reasonable excuse could he use for not wanting to share Sebastian? Sorry, summon your own incubus, Finny, was barely believable, even to himself. He’d already put in so much work feeding the damned thing that only he should reap the benefits of owning it. He was certain that the attachment he felt towards the demon was due to their covenant and nothing more. This possession was purely contractual.

Finny simpered, but it was not coquettish or coy, it definitely had a mean edge to it. “If you’re dating, then why did he send me a note to meet him in the lab after class?”

Ciel felt like he’d just been sucker punched in the gut. The air left his lungs on a gasp and his hands stilled over his friend’s tensing body. He shot an angry glare at Sebastian, hoping it would hide the shred of betrayal he felt. A betrayal that was unjustifiable given the devil’s nature. The bastard didn’t even try to look contrite, he just stood there leaning against the door frame like a suave motherfucker, hands in his pockets and shrugged. He could not be trusted and with Finny squirming under him the way he was, it was a conversation between he and his servant that would have to wait.

He scooted up his friend’s legs until he was all but hovering over the other omega’s strained erection as the boy rolled his hips up into him. Ciel’s lips found the sweaty, matted stands covering Finny’s forehead and he planted a chaste, affectionate kiss there. Finny’s jerky movements still denoted pain, but he was losing steam and giving himself over to Ciel’s tender touches with a quiet, keening choked sob. “I don’t know why. He’s a whore, and you deserve better,” Ciel stage whispered for Sebastian’s benefit, “and clearly I have shitty self-worth for putting up with it.”

Ciel was at a loss for what to do to help relieve Finny, especially when he was so fixated on the incubus posing as an alpha. “Sebastian. You need to knock off the alpha act. Whatever it is you’re doing, it needs to stop for now.”

“But young master, the boy will be wiser to your ruse,” Sebastian teased in a mocking lilt. He obeyed the boy without further question regardless, killing the pheromones he gave off and his aura of dominance. What remained was still smug and arrogant, befitting of royalty and his superior race. “If I’m not an alpha, then what will I be?”

“What you are now: an utter asshole,” Ciel muttered, trying not to let himself get overwhelmed by what little experience he had to deal with the crisis at hand. The back of his hand caressed Finny’s face and turned his head slightly. “Tell me what you want,” he hummed into the other boy’s skin at his throat, his lips trailing down from beneath his chin to the hollow notch at the base of his neck. “Tell me what I can do to make it feel better, Finny.”

“Put something inside me,” the omega quavered, now ignoring Sebastian completely. “Please, Ciel. Make stop hurting,” he implored, spreading his legs. He cried out, neck craned back when Ciel kissed down his chest, came off him completely and found himself between his legs. Finny took his small hand, and directed it towards slick hole.

It was love for his friend that drove Ciel’s finger into Finny, because it sure as hell wasn’t arousal. He felt numb as he watched his digit get swallowed up and then eased another in and another. He bent over and mouthed Finny’s chest as he pumped in and out of him, letting the boy guide his free hand to his omegan cock, wrapping his fingers around it, so that they were both stroking him.

As wet, squelching sounds filled the room, Finny’s whimpers grew into licentious mewls and insatiable demands for more and harder. With three fingers thrusting almost savagely into Finny’s heat, it still didn’t seem enough. “Do you have a dildo, Finny? Anything bigger?”

Finny’s head thrashed from side to side, no. “Put your whole hand inside me Ciel. It’s not enough. It’s not enough. Fist me.”

He was already so afraid he was hurting his friend, but the slick loosened him up so nicely, had his hand dripping with the boy’s natural lubricant. Everything but Ciel’s thumb was already stuffed into Finny to the knuckle, twisting and curling, rubbing against the soft, clenching walls.

“Get naked Ciel. Wanna feel you. Fuck me… fingers and dick. Please.”

Ciel doubted even that would be enough. What Finny needed was an alpha’s cock, a bulbous head, something harder, stronger, more rigid than his dainty digits.

For all his frantic movements, and the wildness with which Finny rode Ciel’s fingers, the blond omega finally decided to muffle his lewds sounds by biting into his pillow, burying his face and strangulated cries into it so that the sound of his headboard hitting the wall was for once, louder than the boy. His bony hips kept bucking up, completely undeterred. That’s when Ciel heard it. A gasp. One that differed from the panted, high-pitched omega ones. It came from behind him, where Sebastian stood, ravenously watching them, his bulge visible and monstrously inhuman, his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring.

Ciel’s temper flickered, remembering Sebastian’s bastard note. He beckoned him with the darkening blue of his sapphire eyes and the incubus came so willingly, it took him less time than it took Finny to push his cock into Ciel’s cramping hand.

“It’s hard work, isn’t it little one, to be on the giving end? But you enjoy it, I can tell; I smell it rolling off you. Not desire for carnality, but the desire to please, to satisfy.” Sebastian groaned in Ciel’s ear from behind, rutting his engorgement into the small of his back, tracing the lithe muscles tensing and relaxing in Ciel’s arms as he assisted Finny.

He wasn’t wrong, but Ciel wasn’t going to tell him that. “Keep your dick away from me, if you know what’s good for you,” he hissed a threat so low that it went unnoticed by the other omega. “You have about five minutes before an alpha shows up to service Finny and as I won’t let that happen, I’ll be in danger. So go get me some toys that’ll make my life easier for the next four to five days.”

Ciel felt the hair at his temples flutter as Sebastian bristled like a guard dog and went rigid all over anticipating the trouble to come. “Fine,” the demon snarled, relieving the bed of the pressure he’d put on it, abandoning Ciel to his chore.

When Sebastian returned no less than than two minutes later, arms laden with what he considered the most tame of perversions, Finny was on his knees, hanging onto his headboard, sharp hitches of breath making the already fogged up windows misty with condensation. Ciel who had stripped to his underwear, and whose own skin was dewy with a sheen of perspiration was noisily mouthing Finny’s nape, one hand wrapped around the boy’s torso, pinching a very sensitive nipple between thumb and forefinger as he was being commanded to do, while his body rocked upwards, still energetically finger fucking his omegan friend.

Ciel’s eagerness to help, the pure unselfishness of the act was something Sebastian had never seen in all his time in the Underworld, or his limited time at the surface. It was a delicacy, refreshing on the incubus’ palate, not marred by pity or resentment. He imagined this was what the gods feasted upon, the ambrosial energy, the sweet nectar of impending bliss. Ciel’s aroma had returned, mingling with and embracing the most delicate notes of citrus and baby roses from the other omega, without being overpowering.

And he’d never seen Ciel this way, bared, vulnerable. In outward beauty alone, Ciel eclipsed any nymph he’d come across. In courage and valor, Ciel outshone any of the gods he’d had the displeasure of meeting. As his master’s mouth made its way down, down the other boy’s spine, his divine figure was on full display: gentle swell of his fertile hips, the delicate slope of his back and the striking curve of his succulent backside, pushed out the lower he got.

It was rare for an incubus to be taken by their prey, in fact it was unheard of. Yes, there was a feeling of greedy possession, a mineness, the way people and demons alike selfishly coveted what they were fond of, pretty things to show off, but this was something else. Ciel Phantomhive was causing the incubus’ restraint to reach its breaking point.

“So good Ciel! I wanna… I wanna cum!” Finny rasped, voice hoarse with panting.

Sebastian’s mind reeled, he dropped his items to the floor, caught his bottom lip between his fangs, head cocked to the side to better appreciate the view. “Let me help,” he whined, approaching his master, and peeling off his fitted shirt, “let me touch you, omega. Make you feel good. Fuck you, while you pound into your friend. You won’t even have to move.”

Ciel pulled away from Finny’s fevered skin, his lips kiss swollen and wet with spit and met the glossy crimson eyes of his demon. “No. Stay there, and watch out for Alphas. Charm Grell if you have to. Nobody is to come in here, do you understand?”

“For how long?” Sebastian asked incredulously over Finny’s renewed sobs now that Ciel had stopped.

“As long as it takes. After what you pulled, I don’t care if you starve. No touching yourself. No rubbing yourself against anything. Fail to abide by this, and I’m reneging on our contract.”

“You can’t!” Sebastian growled. The walls shook from his obvious frustration, groaning and creaking against the malevolent pressure pushing against them and Ciel heard whichever omegas that had remained on the second floor scamper downstairs.

“Watch me,” Ciel bit back, climbing off the bed and retrieving the assortment of sex accessories the incubus had fetched. “Actually, don’t. Turn around and give Finny and I some privacy.” He scanned the floor and took in the leather, the fur, the chrome-plated objects. He barely recognized the dildo that resembled a tentacle, or the one that was but a dragon's snout with a long, life-like tongue poking out of its muzzle. “What the hell are these things?” he sputtered. His unfamiliarity with the array of depraved objects made one thing clear: he was out of his depth. He was a stupid little omega trying to play the role of an alpha. His inadequacy was compounded by gnawing self-doubt and intensified when Finny called out to him again.

Sebastian turned away amused, now that Ciel had asked him a question, one requiring his help. “I'm not sure, I can't see what it is you're referring to.”

“These gloves!” Ciel tossed the furry one to the incubus, nailing him behind the head. It fell with a muted thud onto the floor. “All this... shit you brought back! God damn it Sebastian, I gave you a very simple order and you brought me back a Yeti’s paw!”

“How was I to know what would please the squirming little minx?” Sebastian answered coyly, still not facing Ciel. “You’ve got dildos…”

“Hardly…”

Sebastian ignored him and cleared his throat, “Dildos, a vibrator, a butt plug, an electric glove, that’s the one you still have by the way, anal beads, a whips, a fire flogger and blaze stick and…”

“You expect me to use fire to get my friend off?” Ciel stared at Sebastian’s shapely, bare back in disbelief, his frown revealing shock, then more questions.

There was no hesitation on the devil’s part. “I, am expecting nothing. Stop being such a prude, it’s whatever he desires. Isn’t that what you wanted for Finny? For him to feel pleasure?” With his foot, he pushed the bear paw back towards the bed within reach of the omegas.

“Will you both just shut up already and fuck me!” Finny wailed, collapsing onto his back, bony hips jutting as his body thrashed wantonly.

‘O-okay,” Ciel reassured him, grabbing the plug and kneeling between Finny’s tremulous legs again, his own bottom on his feet. He inhaled deeply to steady himself, repeating Sebastian’s words under his breath, surprised by their logic and the way they strengthened his resolve. This was for Finny’s pleasure, to help him. “Tell me if I’m hurti--”

“JUST JAM IT IN!” The other omega barked menacingly. He was beyond any reason now, blind with lust, driven only by need.

“Don’t do that, Ciel,” Sebastian warned him, leaning against the door frame, sitting on his haunches and keeping guard, “it’ll hurt him. He doesn’t know what he’s saying right now. Take the dragon tongue, pry his legs apart if they’re not already out of the way, and tease his hole with the tip. Do it slowly, he’s likely to be very sensitive right now. When you see him bunch the blankets in his hands, or his stomach tense, push it in a little, but keep it shallow at first, and gradually go deeper.”

Ciel traded the toys and did exactly as Sebastian described. Finny sighed and bucked, impaling himself with desperation on the dildo. Fingers releasing the sheets, the blond splayed them across his own chest, his throat, his shoulders, riding the elongated blue tongue, eyes squeezed tight.

“This toy is curved specifically for omegas, tilt it up at a forty degree angle,” Sebastian instructed, waving his hand with a flourish towards the large alpha with scars running down his face, who’d come up the first two steps. Abruptly, the alpha was confused, turned around and left the way he came. The incubus was tempted to turn his head when he heard Finny cry out, caught the whisper of Ciel’s gasp, as air was expelled forcibly from his lungs.

“I’m cum-cumming Ciel,” Finny whimpered, legs wrapping around and pulling his friend closer, locking him in an embrace as he clung to him, painting the slate-haired boy’s stomach and chest with his release.

Ciel said nothing. Synched his breathing to Finny’s erratic one and made out the sound of running water in the washroom to his right. Seconds later, Sebastian grasped his wrist, and gave him a warm, wet washcloth, always keeping his gaze skywards, then returned to his post.

The incubus put his shirt back on, sensing it was going to be a long night. “He won’t be done. Wash him up and get ready for round two.”

The cloth didn’t even have time to get cold before Finny sighed an anguished supplication and became helpless again. Heat radiated from inside out, even evaporating whatever dampness the cloth had left behind. “I need more, Ciel,” the omega said, digging his nails into his friend’s arms.

“Use the plug this time,” Sebastian told him, talking over his master’s worried tone as he tried to explain to Finny that his hand was cramped, “it’ll fill him and you can use your mouth... he’ll like that.”

“I…” Ciel hesitated, still short on breath as he held onto the plug tightly. He nodded to himself and inserted the plush silicone toy and it began to vibrate inside the other boy. “It’s…”

“As if I would give my master a plain plug. It’s a vibrating prostate massager. Now can you take it from here, or shall I help ag--”

“Just, please. Start.” Ciel cut the incubus off, relieved when the body under him became more pliant and open, and less on edge.

As before, the little omega followed Sebastian’s guidance, taking care to lick up and down Finny’s shaft, and tasting the faint remnants of his cum when he curled his tongue around the sensitive head. The second time was not as fevered as the first, and for this Ciel was thankful. He might have even enjoyed it when Finny’s fingers tangled in his hair, scratched his scalp and forced him down further as he arched his back, begging to be consumed by the rich, fleshy dampness of Ciel’s mouth.

He didn’t mind the taste of Finny either. The boy tasted as he smelled, uniquely and exotically floral, enticing his tongue to gather all flavours and to savour them. By the time he found a certain, relentless rhythm and he began to alternate between steady swipes of his soft, warm muscle, and long, drawn out sucks, Ciel found himself excited by the crooning praises that spilled from Finny’s lips and his sweet little fussing sounds. When he moaned against the firm heat bathed by his tongue, he was self-conscious, but the noise seemed to urge mirrored plaints from the other omega. He gasped, catching his breath and continued to mouth the length, and followed the progression of his hand as he jerked Finny off.

“Kiss me…” Finny whined, body growing taut and rigid the more his member slid wetly in his grasp.

He moved to the omega’s left, his underwear tented with the strain of his own erection and turned the other boy to face him. He draped his svelte leg over Finny’s hip, and pulled him closer, still pumping his cock and his lips found the hollows of his collarbones, his Adam's apple, the side of his neck. Amidst the smacking of his lips against Finny’s now familiar flesh, Ciel chanced a glance towards the incubus. He’d not spoken in an hour, but there he was standing ramrod straight, staring into the hallway, fists curled into balls at his side, unmoving like a statue.

“Are you feeding right now?” Ciel asked, a breathless, panting mess.

The answer came from between clenched teeth. “No. You forbade me.”

“You can take the energy, if you want,” the omega offered, then returned to plying his friend with kisses.

Sebastian did not ask for clarification or for his master to repeat himself. Within seconds, Ciel became light-headed, dizzy with lack of reason. Finny on the other hand, joined Ciel’s hand over his cock and knew nothing but fiery delight. At the last gasping moment, the blond omega’s ecstasy became a single, coursing torrent of reckless, boneless pleasure.

Finny’s sharp intakes of breath gave way to soft pants and finally, muffled snores. Ciel wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, cupped the blond’s face and kissed the tip of his nose.

“You did well, master,” Sebastian told him solemnly and said no more.

The sun had already set behind the drapes in the omega’s room, and Ciel felt the day’s stresses start to weigh heavily upon him. He was exhausted and sweaty, hurt in places he didn’t even know existed. Was it possible to get carpal tunnel in one day?

He was vaguely aware of Sebastian moving around the room and asking to be granted permission to look at him. He nodded his assent sleepily and when he woke before Finny, it was to clean bedding, a jug of fresh water on the bedside table, and an array of fruits, crackers, and dark chocolate.

After the first day, the omegas that lived in the orphanage along with he and Finny returned to their rooms, having accepted that the smallest among them was trying his best to play the part of an alpha for the sake of the usually quiet blond. They never questioned Sebastian’s presence, and Ciel wondered if he was even visible to them at all. If the demon could sway Grell and the legion of alphas they sent up to the second floor without even having to say a word, it would stand to reason that perhaps he had some other magic abilities.

Ciel did not go to school for the rest of the week and stayed by his friend’s side at all times. He pampered the other boy, soothed his muscles with various tinctures and oils brought to him by Sebastian, bathed him with the softest sponges, read him fairy tales in the nests he would help him arrange using large, supple pillows that molded themselves to every curve and angle of Finny’s body. He fed him, brushed his hair and when his clothes no longer felt like sandpaper on his skin, dressed him in light cotton.

Ciel was well aware that none of it would have been possible, had the incubus not been there. For as long as he had been a resident, Ciel had never had fresh fruit or crackers that were not stale. Baths, or specifically the water, was generally shared among four or five of them and seldom ever warm.

It had not been part of their contract, to provide for his master in such a way, much less his friend, and so Ciel did not deny Sebastian his sustenance. They coexisted symbiotically in this fashion until the fifth day, when after the last bout of intimacy he shared with Finny, he felt the incubus hoist him up tenderly in his arms and carry him to his own bed. Sebastian turned down the sheets and Ciel caught the hint of freshly-laundered cotton.

“Finny’s heat has subsided. He’ll be fine when he wakes,” Sebastian assured him as he drew the blanket over Ciel’s small form. “There’s chamomile cookies for you here,” he said touching a nearby plate, “and more water in case you wake up hungry or thirsty in the middle of the night. I’ll be just outside, keeping watch.”

Ciel caught the flannel of the shirt Sebastian wore over his t-shirt before the demon could walk away. “Wait,” he implored, voice weak with fatigue and drowsiness.

Sebastian looked at his master hopefully, and gave him an expectant grin, more than ready to shuck off his clothes and join the little imp in his bed, so he could spend yet another night admiring him, and contemplating his uniqueness as he breathed him in. “What is it?”

“Why did you send a note to Finny?” Ciel had waited nearly a week to ask. It was always at the back of his mind, except when he had time to think, to wonder why he had not been enough for the incubus. He knew Sebastian had pre-arranged meetings with others with the expressed purpose of feeding, but he could not have been ignorant to the fact that Finny had been his friend.

Crestfallen, the incubus feigned indifference and shrugged, “The prospect of getting caught is more exciting is it not? Besides, now that I’m your boyfriend, you have a date for Homecoming. How lucky for you.” Gently, he removed Ciel’s hand from his person, opened the window and lept out.

It was likely not the answer Ciel was hoping for, but given what he thought of demons, and incubi specifically, Sebastian assumed it was easier to swallow than the truth: that he had orchestrated everything, down to the minute to be found out, so that he could have a public claim on the omega. Had Ciel not made the excuse of being exclusive with Sebastian, he himself would have. Now, he had a valid reason to be by his side at all times, to dote on him and to act openly possessive should anyone be rude to his little mate. But it was merely to satisfy the terms of the contract. At least, it’s what he told himself as he leaned against the dilapidated building that housed his master.

He was about to shut his eyes when he got a whiff of it, hellfire and home. He cursed under his breath, and crouched defensively, dilated crimson pupils darting wildly towards the forest, where he heard the faint rumbling and the crunch of heavy footfalls against dying leaves. A shadow eclipsed the moon, and the street lights went out, throwing him into abysmal darkness. He knew who it was. He knew who was coming back to drag him to the Underworld. He was as good as outnumbered.

“Get away from me,” he hissed. The words were not of this world, and came out as growl. Adrenaline coursed through his body, summoning two horns at the top of his head like a ridged crown half a foot tall that curved back, made of darkest black that shone despite the absence of light. Fangs and claws elongated, and spurs broke through his mortal clothes at his shoulders and other strategic points on his body, readying for him a fight. “You tell them no. Go home,” he commanded.

It pounced on him, knocking him back, sharp tongues lashing at his chest like whips and breaking the human skin that remained. They were more aggressive than usual. Under them, he swallowed a penetrating moan of pain, knowing from experience that it would only serve to rile them. He ordered them away again, but their fangs simply tore into his flesh, one of them hard enough that if felt as though they were trying to rip his ribs free of his torso.

A devilish, sonorous whistling broke their intense focus and its slobbering mouths released the incubus. Sebastian groaned audibly, clutching his sides and wincing as garnet seeped from his lips and onto the grassy surface.

Fantastic. He knew they wouldn’t come alone.

Chapter Text

“Heel.”

The voice that issued the command was full of authority. It spoke as though accustomed to blind obedience, like it had led armies and decimated its foes most cruelly. It had. It did. The giant of a beast whimpered, its tail low, swaying slightly as its belly crawled towards her, all six eyes averting her lethal glare. Cerberus stopped before the warrior, and even in his submissive position, low to the ground, head bowed, and ears flattened against his heads, she barely stood as tall as its jaws.

Sebastian grunted, breaths sawing in and out as he stood to face her. He used the back of the house for support, leaving a bloodied inhuman hand print on the dirtied white stucco siding. He blinked the starbursts from behind his eyes, lips whitening as he pursed them in pain while his clawed right hand lifted the remnants of his t-shirt. The wounds were already healing and he didn’t want the fabric to be knitted to his new skin. “Fuck,” he hissed, bowed over, hands on his knees and nostrils flaring as bone crunched and snapped itself back into place.

Sieglinde sauntered towards her older brother and though she wore spiked-heel boots whose leather clad the entirety of her short, yet shapely legs, she did not sink into the earth as mortals would have. Slender, sooty fingers wrapped around his onyx horns and forced his head skyward; their eyes met briefly, emerald boring into crimson, like toxic waste trying to dominate an angry tide of lava. Her tongue swept across the gleaming sweet-scented sweat that dripped down Sebastian’s face and a roaring snarl ripped through his throat. Sieglinde’s bobbed, obsidian hair was blown back and she smirked.

She laughed, taking a few steps back as her brother’s menacing aura pushed her away. “You taste delicious. I haven’t seen you heal that fast since you were beat and escorted out of that whorehouse in Tenaro for having ripped apart all thirty-two of Lord Chiron’s Jezebels. You must be very well fed.”

“I can’t believe you turned my own pet against me, and ruined my fucking clothes. I liked that shirt.” Sebastian ignored her comment and walked past her a little stiffly, waiting for the last of his body to repair itself and for any evidence of blood to evaporate into black smoke the way it usually did. He extended his hand towards Cerberus, and the dog lapped at it thoroughly, eagerly slopping the digits as its tail thumped madly against the ground, leveling the grass and taking out a nearby wilting tree in the process. The massive hound sat and watched his master expectantly, tongue hanging out of its maws. Sebastian pet under its chins, then stretched onto his tiptoes to scratch behind its ears.“That was low, even for you, Sullivan.”

She picked a large spider hanging from its web just under the windowsill and crushed its body between her thumb and forefinger. Its legs went rigid for a microsecond then limp before she popped it into her mouth. She chewed it slowly, then licked her ruby lips. “It didn’t take much. Its feelings were pretty hurt after you abandoned it.”

Cerberus whined, milking the attention it was receiving and further guilting its master. Its comprehension for speech surpassed most other beings in Hell, including the vast majority of demons.

“I didn’t abandon it,” Sebastian spat, leaving his pet’s side to slam her against the building. Foliage and tiny creatures that had accumulated and died in the gutters fell around them, along with a couple of rusted siding panels. “I escaped. They imprisoned me for six months. Tortured me. Starved me! You were there and you did nothing.”

With a hard and well-aimed kick to his newly-healed ribs, Sieglinde pushed her half-brother off and sent him soaring halfway across the backyard.

Dragging his claws through the earth to halt himself, Sebastian whirled onto his feet, crouching low, baring his fangs and snapping his jaw. He bent forward, ready to spring at her if she dared move another inch.

The female demon sighed heavily, folding her arms over the hunter green, bell-sleeved medieval frock she wore. Of course, any image of her looking ladylike was devastated by its torn, scandalously short hem and the fitted black harness that criss-crossed and spanned her small, but deceptively powerful frame. “Whoa… you need to chill out, I didn’t come here to fight… what name do you go by now? Sebastian? Is that what I heard the pretty little mortal call you?”

“You stay away from him,” Sebastian warned her possessively. He still hadn’t decided whether or not he should make her suffer for her treachery. They were evenly matched: him with his natural strength and speed and her with centuries of training. It was only when Ciel made a sound like a tiny moan two stories above, that he straightened again and unconsciously moved to stand beneath the open window.

Sieglinde chuckled, almost looking innocent with the way she laughed coyly behind her hand. “You better not let her hear you say that. You know how sensitive she is, Sebastian.”

“One of many reasons why I have no interest in marrying her, as you very well know.” Silently, he scaled the side of the large house and poked his head through the curtains of Ciel’s room. The omega wasn’t sleeping soundly; Sebastian could make out the spasming of his limbs under his sheets, muscles likely exhausted from overexertion. He wanted to go to his master, sooth and caress him the way Ciel had done for Finny.

From below, Sieglinde cleared her throat, adapting a lower pitch to her usually playful lilt. It was now a perfect knock off of her brother’s tone. “I don’t want to marry her. I don't want to take the throne. I don’t want to carry on my Father’s legacy even though it’s my god-given responsibility as the first born to Hades.” As her brother descended and faced her once more, a double-edged blade sprung from the brass knuckles she wore and she began cleaning her nails, ridding them of the excess blood and flesh trapped underneath belonging to whomever had offended her last. Her voice became her own again and she admonished the other demon as she had thousands of times already. “You're so weak. Just tell Dad you’re not interested.”

Sebastian snorted. “You mad, Sullivan? His armies aren't enough for you? Still want the throne? You’re wasting your time, I’ve already told hi--”

“I know you told him. Everyone heard you the first time when you came of age. The second time at your engagement party. Then the third to seven hundred and forty-fifth time when you were screaming in the dungeon, getting whipped, chained to the goddamn wall…”

Sebastian winced at the memory of it. It would have been a delight if he’d only been whipped. Devils had perfected weapons of pain and punishment. Knives that ensured a wound did not close, serums that made inhuman flesh turn sensitive like that of mortals so that every prod, every cut was intense, venomous fang caps to tear into the body and infect it and decaying energy from a variety of sources… and that’s just what they used on children. It was a miracle he’d even been able to shed his blood in such a precise way, write out the proper sigils, given the way they’d tied him up and the months he’d gone without proper sustenance. “What do you want me to do then?”

“Since I doubt you’d agree to Seppuku or that it would actually work, just lay low. I’ve been pulled from my regular duties and tasked with finding and returning you home. I’m hoping eventually Dad will either grow tired of your absence, or keel over. Either way it’s win-win for me,” she elaborated, retracting her blade. “You know, everyone’s talking about your little disappearing act, wondering how you did it… You’d absolutely love the attention, drama whore that you are. One minute you were kneeling, about to get choke pears in three orifices and the next,” she snapped her fingers, “how’d you do it?”

Involuntarily Sebastian’s eyes found Ciel’s window again. He was bored with the conversation and had no interest in continuing. If his sister was going to keep his location a secret for her own sake, what was the point of continuing with this praddling?

Sieglinde followed her brother’s gaze, tempted, as she’d been all week to see who this Ciel was, so that she could confirm for herself that his appearance was as enticing as his aroma. “Oh-ho! It’s him, isn’t it? Your little lamb? Did he summon you? Is he something special?”

“No.”

A vicious grin spread across Sieglinde’s face. It sharpened her features, enhancing her devilish countenance. She never looked so devious as when she was happy. “You answered pretty quick, Sebastian. Either he’s your contractor, or you want that boy to be your mate.”

The incubus picked up a rock the size of his large demon’s palm and shot it into the forest for the hound. It took off at a run, and he heard its heads growling at one another, fighting over who would bring it back to its master. Sebastian waved a hand in his sister’s direction, his face a perfect picture of indifference. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s mortal. What would I want with that? He’s good for one thing, and one thing only.”

“I suppose given who your mother was, you’re right. My kind don’t tend to play that way with our food before consuming it,” she criticized with an air of superiority. Sex demons were the absolute lowest of their kind, and to think that her brother would inherit the Underworld because their father had a weak spot for beauty and had been taken by a succubus years before his marriage bore children was… intolerable. “You'll kill him when you claim him. Does he know that, yet? How many others have succumbed to your incubus curse?”

Cerberus came bounding back towards Sebastian, middle head with the rock held proudly between his teeth. “That’s hardly any of your business,” he snapped as the hellhound dropped the toy at his feet and waited for its master to throw it again, “now if we’re done…”

“We’re done,” she said, patting her thigh to call the family pet over. It snubbed her, huffing audibly and keeping its back turned to her. Whatever. It had sniffed her brother out, and now that she knew where he was, she had little use for the drooling hairball. “Keep your head down, Sebastian, and for once in your life, don’t draw any attention to yourself.”

A clap of thunder crackled overhead. The sky opened up and sheets of rain poured down in a deluge of molten smoke and brimstone-scented water. The smell of Hell on Earth. It wasn’t a quenching rain, it was warm, bordering on hot and uncomfortable. Leaves sizzled on their stems as they got soaked and the mess of shrubs and weeds surrounding the orphanage that seemed more a jungle than garden, withered. Sensing the hound’s disquiet, he set it on a path into the forest, explaining where it could find refuge in a small cave some two miles in. Once it left, he took cover under the flimsy eaves, waiting out the storm and coming up with various ways to court his young master in his new role.

***

The next morning, Ciel’s sluggish brain struggled against consciousness to remain locked in the pleasant dream he’d had. He was no longer at the orphanage, not shackled to an alpha or a demon; he belonged to no one, had a strong sense of agency and relied on none but himself.

A yellowish glow played across his eyelids and he knew that at any moment his alarm would wail. Already, the feeling of freedom was fading the more reality set in. As if to confirm that he had indeed been pulled unwillingly from his fantasy, a cool breeze swept his room through the open window, ruffling both the curtains and his hair. Goosebumps erupted over his exposed chest and shoulders and he turned over, hitching the blanket over his head.

Just a few more minutes, he bargained, sinking into the comfort of his freshly laundered sheets and soft mattress.

Soft mattress?

The alarm rang at that moment, and Ciel’s arm shot out to smash the snooze button; instead, his hand slapped loudly against something warm and fleshy. Another hand.

His head poked out of the duvet, slate hair the epitome of bedhead with one side standing straight up while the other was smooshed against the side of his face where a pillow crease ran along his cheek.

Sebastian recoiled playfully, exaggerating his revulsion upon seeing the small omega in such a state. “You’re clearly not a morning person,” he said by way of greeting, “but you know what they say, early bird gets the worm, Ciel.”

“They can fucken have it. Worms are disgusting and mornings are stupid,” Ciel groaned, throwing the blanket over his head again. The night had left a funny taste in his mouth, and as he smacked his tongue over his dry lips, Sebastian ripped the sheets from his grasp.

“Hey! I’m barely dressed here!” he complained, curling up into a ball and using his fluffy pillow as a shield.

“I saw much more than just your legs and chest yesterday when you were tending to Finnian, young master,” the demon smirked, folding the cream coloured duvet at the foot of the bed.

“Shut up. Don’t remind me,” Ciel grouched, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes to wipe the sleep away from them. He finally sat up in the bed that dominated the space in his room and his mouth fell open in disbelief. “What the hell is going on here, Sebastian?”

The reason the mattress had felt so unfamiliarly soft was because he had not been the bed in which he’d fallen asleep last night. Instead, he was dead center on a canopy bed, the frame a dark, fragrant oak, with swaths of sheer, wine-coloured linen draped elegantly at every corner and tied to the posts with matching silk ribbons.

“You were tossing and turning all evening, I thought it best to furnish your room with something more suitable. Perhaps if you slept well, you wouldn’t be in such a foul mood all the time and you’d be more generous in feeding your incubus,” Sebastian elaborated, arching his brow unscrupulously.

“Well, that explains the bed,” Ciel retorted. It didn’t account for the beautiful trailing stems of Purple Heart suspended from the canopy and along hanging baskets scattered about the room. Nor did it explain the succulent aroma of beautiful, pink late summer camellias and bronze chrysanthemums that poured out of a window box planter on either side of the windowsill.

A pillow fell to the floor as his bare feet touched it, body readying itself to recoil at the cool texture but was confused by softness underfoot instead. The rug on which he stood was subtly patterned to bring out the muted hues of the duvet that mirrored the bloom’s petals. “What’s all this? Who are you and what have you done with my creature?” he asked, tone incredulous as he pushed the curtains aside and stuck his head out.

Gone was the yellowing, dead grass; everything was lush, screamed fertility even though it was fall. Apple trees, heavy with their fruit lined the eastern and western sides of the yard, resembling a tiny orchard, whereas sprawling shrubs with glossy, green foliage, showy orange flowers and deliciously plump pomegranates guarded the entrance to the forest at the north end.

Even their ramshackled home had been upgraded on the exterior as well. A rich stone veneer had replaced the cracked vinyl siding, and the ivy that climbed the strategically placed lattice, created a lavish, leafy wall that added a hint of elegance to the dwelling.

Back inside his room, the incubus wore a self-satisfied grin. He knew he had done well, had left his master speechless. The omega’s silence was obviously a sign of astoundment. Any minute now, Ciel would turn to him, see him in a whole new light. He would insist that the demon lay down on the plush bedding, would mount him, grind hard into him in thanks, kiss his touch-starved body: neck and chest, thighs and…

But he couldn’t let him do more than that. He liked this one. He would flip their positions, turn Ciel over on his belly and crawl over the little thing. He would pet and stroke his hair, tie his hands up with the silk ropes that kept the drapes from falling, taste his eager hole again, squeeze his demon’s tongue deep into it, bite the fleshy globes, mar his perfect pale flesh with his scratches and spanks. Drink the sounds he made, lap the sweat off his still virgin skin.

Sebastian unconsciously moved towards the bed, until the back of his legs came up against the mattress. He was painfully hard, had spent a week listening to Ciel pleasure someone else, fed off his energy. He was bloated with it, needed release. Finally, it would be his turn to enjoy his master. A glamour was set by the doorway to muffle the eventual crying moans, to allow them some privacy should the omega need it.

His crimson eyes narrowed in hunger as Ciel strode across the room purposefully towards him. The tips of Sebastian’s fangs bit into his bottom lip as a smug expression possessed his face and the omega’s hands made contact with his chest, pushing him back.

There was no trace of desire in his eyes or his body language. If anything the little imp was upset. “Well? Answer me! What’s the meaning of all this shit?” Ciel demanded, picking up the fallen pillow from the floor and hitting Sebastian in the head with it.

If the demon wasn’t so shocked by this turn of events, he might have laughed. “I simply meant to make life more tolerable for you,” Sebastian protested, sitting up and brushing the hair out of his face, “and to play the new role you’ve assigned me as of five days ago.”

“What are you on about?” Ciel abandoned the pillow next to Sebastian, though he was tempted to use it again, and started getting ready, slipping into his grey school trousers and his dress shirt. From behind, the incubus’ hands wound themselves around Ciel’s neck and the omega wondered at which point his own insolence would get him killed by a vastly stronger being. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he closed his eyes and the grip loosened. A tie was knotted in place of hands and Sebastian spun him round to adjust the tightness.

“You told Finnian that I was your boyfriend. I’m courting you,” he conceded, smoothing the burgundy tie with the school crest. “Isn’t this what omegas like? To be spoiled? Pampered?”

“No,” Ciel lied, smacking Sebastian’s hands away from him. Before this renovation, he knew where all his belongings had been, now he was hard pressed to figure out where his school supplies had been stashed. It was easier to focus on such a menial detail in lieu of why he was actually bothered by Sebastian’s outward show of kindness.

The orphanage, while in disrepair with its peeling paint and cracked plaster, broken housewares and exposed wiring, was everything his first home was not. There was nothing here to remind him of the life from which he’d been exiled. Even sequestered in the attic, he’d been indulged by his brother; they would make blanket forts in his bed with leftover drapes, grow flowers along the window ledges to brighten the dull room. His twin brought extra pillows and fluffy blankets to keep him warm at night, which they then hid from sight.

After what he’d done, everything had been uncovered. All the trinkets, all the creature comforts, stripped away. That Vincent and Rachel had assumed sending him to New Beginnings would be the worst punishment imaginable, was laughable. But, with the orphanage now looking like this, his loss would be a constant, agonizing reminder.

“I don’t want it. Make it go away,” Ciel ordered, infusing his voice with enough venom as to appear petulant. He threw his half-written essay into his bag and hoped his teacher would give him an extension.

“But…”

“You’re about the same amount of boyfriend as you are alpha, Sebastian. Stop confusing what you pretend to be with what you think will annoy me most. When we’re not with people, you and I are nothing. You’re just an incubus and I’m just an omega.”

The sting of rejection caused heat to flush the demon’s body. His eyes burned and his claws elongated and bit into his palms as he made fists. Anger bubbled below his skin and a ghastly red hue filtered his sight. He was not used to such a denial, in fact, before Ciel it had never happened. None had ever passed up on the pleasures he offered, not in hell or at the surface. His was a reputation that writers and artists had been inspired to create, though always under different names: Casanova, Paris, Lancelot, Romeo…

Ciel’s refusal to feed him hadn’t really bothered him in the past, he thought it endearing, like the mortal was suppressing his baser urges, refusing to indulge in a simple hors d’oeuvre in favour of truly savouring the feast. There was merit in this. But the injury to his ego was something else altogether. It wasn’t the carnal act that Ciel had rejected, but him – as a living, breathing entity.

“As you wish, omega,” he glowered, bowing patronizingly. An evening of efforts, careful consideration and agonizing decisions wasted, disappearing with the snap of the demon’s fingers. He’d spent what little energy he had left after having had to heal himself to please the spoiled, stubborn boy; he knew better now than to do so again. “You’ll see me at school then,” he told Ciel before exiting his room through the window and into the mess of the former backyard.

Ciel knew Sebastian was a touch histrionic, had a penchant for theatrics, but not to be the sensitive type. Actually, his reaction had bordered on hurt – which was complete nonsense considering the incubus viewed him only as food. He hadn’t broken his contract, he would still feed Sebastian so long as he himself was kept safe. His parting message of ‘you’ll see me at school’ obviously meant that he would follow him again, out of sight as had been his habit and once Finny joined him at the bottom of the stairs, stuffing his bag with his lunch and offering him a piece of buttered toast wrapped in a tissue. Ciel was glad they would have the chance to talk more or less alone about what had transpired between them.

“Thank you for last week,” Finny said, the moment the door closed behind them, not wasting any time to get any lingering awkwardness out of the way.

Ciel stopped him on the sidewalk, wanting to make sure the blond boy knew he wasn’t paying him lip service when he took his hand, cocked his head to the side to meet Finny’s eyes (which were staring decidedly at the asphalt) and told him, “I was glad to help.” He squeezed the soft, trembling fingers and pulled him along towards school.

Finny nodded, trailing a few steps behind Ciel. The slate-haired omega’s walk had changed somewhat. He thought he had noticed it last week, but with his oncoming heat, so much of what he remembered was a haze. Ciel seemed to walk more confidently, his shoulders back, his head a little higher, and he had his suspicions as to why. “So, Sebastian’s not an alpha, huh?”

“W-what? Of course he is, what else would he be?” Ciel sputtered, tripping over his own feet.

“I remember some stuff. You told him to ‘knock off the alpha stuff’, and when he did, I didn’t want him anymore. Who’s your boyfriend, Ciel, really?” Finny asked, concerned. He’d thought about nothing but this since his heat had subsided, and then after this morning… “Did you make a deal with the devil or something?”

Ciel laughed, it was a boisterous noise, the kind people made when they were hiding too much. He smiled, but it felt like he’d forgotten how to, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be silly, you know my… my parents were against that kind of stuff. They put the fear of god in me.”

They both cringed at the sound of the word ‘parent’, it wasn’t a string of syllables they ever really brought up, either it hurt too much, or made them too sad or angry and Finny knew when any of the orphans did, they were looking to divert attention from the topic at hand. “Mhmm… Then would you care to explain how Sebastian got ahold of all those fresh linens and pillows for my nest? The constant influx of fresh water, fruits and chocolate? The oils? The silk towels? The toys?”

“He’s from a rich family,” Ciel commented; it was his turn to avoid eye contact with the blond. His lie would be easy enough to uncover, there weren’t any other Michaelis’ in their small city, nor was it a name associated with the wealthy circle of alphas that ran most of the services and businesses.

Finny nodded, kicking a pebble along their path. “Sure, so rich he paid off the alphas that showed up at the house? I don’t remember all of them, but I made out at least sixteen distinct scents during the week. That’s never happened before Ciel, and you know it.”

Ciel agreed internally. Grell really pushed the alphas on them, hoping that during their heats, they would get pregnant so that they would no longer be a burden on New Beginnings. Once an omega was defiled, it was harder to get rid of them and the government gave the orphanage less money to take care of them; they were seen as damaged goods by both the state and their potential mates.

At Ciel’s silence, Finny pressed on, “You know what’s funny though? I woke up this morning in this gorgeous bed, in a room like you see in romance movies. When I looked outside, the front yard had been done up all pretty too, rose bushes, green grass, cobblestone pathway. The omegas were all excited about it at breakfast and when we ran upstairs to brush our teeth, it wasn’t there anymore. Joanne’s convinced we all had the same dream or something, but it wasn’t a dream, was it Ciel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ciel told his friend. The toast he’d just swallowed felt like ten pounds of rocks and they had jammed themselves in nice and tight in his esophagus before careening towards the pit of his stomach. Sebastian hadn’t just showered him with comfort, he’d done so for everyone in the house. But why? It made zero sense. The incubus was, by his very nature, a very selfish being. Or maybe it was he himself that was the selfish one. Hadn’t he stripped them all of these pleasures with a simple command?

“I know I wasn’t dreaming, Ciel, here…” Finny fished out his cell phone from his pocket and opened his photo gallery. Ciel caught a glimpse of the pictures Finny had snapped of he and Sebastian, saw as the other omega deleted them in bulk, then settled on a panoramic photo of his own room, not quite the duplicate of Ciel’s, not as opulent, but still an upgrade. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me, but whatever he is, he’s not bad for you.”

Ciel finally looked up at Finny, relief the dominant expression on his face. He didn’t thank his friend for his understanding, or ask him to elaborate; it was enough that he was no longer alone in the knowledge of this messed up relationship with the devil. It might even be enough that he wouldn’t have to go through with the ruse of Sebastian being his boyfriend. If Finny kind of knew the truth, and was the only one to witness them and his not-so-well throughout proclamation that the incubus was his boyfriend, then there would be no point, right?

“You won’t tell anyone about… him and me?” Ciel voiced his worry, climbing the steps at the front of the massive school.

Finny held the door open for Ciel and ushered them into the busy hallway. “No way. I never intended on telling anyone. I was dumb, I’m sorry,” he whispered, not wanting to be overheard.

“Then what about the locker?”

“What are you talking about? What locker?” Finny asked stopping at his own to fetch his books for first period.

“Those pictures on your phone, they were on my locker. Dozens of them. Printed out. I asked you about how you got a printer when I saw the ones in your room,” Ciel pointed out, his voice low and laced with confusion.

“Ciel, I came home right away after I took those pictures. I knew my heat was coming, I didn’t want the blockers to run out while I was at school. The only ones I printed out were of Sebastian in the cafeteria or in the hallway. Why would I have wanted pictures of the both of you?”

What Finny said made sense, but if he hadn’t printed those pictures, then who? Come to think of it, the photographs that had been on his locker were grainier in texture, black and white rather than the full colour they’d been at Finny’s shrine to the incubus. “You’re right,” he chuckled weakly, “I have to get to my locker and get to class early. I had an assignment due for Druitt last week and I need to see if I can negotiate an extension.”

Finny apologized profusely and Ciel waved it off like it was nothing. And in truth, it was compared to this new problem. Someone else had seen them. Someone else who didn’t possess the scent of an omega or an alpha. Worse still, he had to keep pretending he was Sebastian’s boyfriend. Finny might have been trying to appease him by saying it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to be tethered to something like the incubus, but that’s only because he didn’t understand the true nature of their relationship. There was nothing romantic about it, it was a simple transaction: sex (or as close to it as it could be) in exchange for protection.

He was essentially a whore.

When he got in sight of his locker, Sebastian was leaning against it, uniform fitting him better than it had any right to, surrounded by his harem of omegas. He could hear them fussing over the alpha, asking if he’d been away because he was sick, that they would have been more than happy to come take care of him in any way he wanted.

“It’s fine, I was in very good hands, wasn’t I, babe?” Sebastian teased Ciel, throwing an arm around him possessively like most alphas did to their property at school.

Ciel rolled his eyes as he fingered the combination into his lock. His locker popped open and sure enough, his ruined hoodie still lay on the floor. “The very best, dear,” Ciel replied so the omegas could hear, then under his breath only for Sebastian added, “your own.”

Sebastian barked a laugh. Ciel’s taunt had gone completely unheard by the small crowd. His harem began squabbling amongst themselves, peppering him with questions and accusations when they put together his and Ciel’s’ intimate words and gestures. Two omegas burst into tears, another tried to physically attack his master; and despite it not being in their contract, he put himself between her and Ciel and received the slap that had been meant for the blue-eyed boy. Once Ciel was done at his locker, Sebastian pulled him away from the wailing fanclub, hand around his thin wrist.

Ciel noticed heads whipping around as students saw the two of them, whispering, pointing, gossiping already. The school’s most desirable alpha and the school’s biggest loser. Which one of them, he wondered, was trying to blackmail him? How was he going to deal with them once he found out? “We need to talk,” he hissed urgently at Sebastian, trying to wrestle out of his grasp.

“Didn’t you need to talk to your teacher first? It can wait, can’t it?” Sebastian chided, stopping in front of Druitt’s class. He let go of Ciel’s bony joint and took his small hand in his own and whispered, “And stop resisting me in public, the boyfriend story was your idea.”

Sebastian’s hand was soft, warm and reassuring as it covered his own. He looked down at their interlaced fingers and was struck by how well they fit together despite the size difference. There were no gaps between the digits, no awkward sweatiness. And when Sebastian’s thumb began to rub tender, reassuring circles around his knuckles, it felt right.

“Here, give me your bag,” Sebastian ordered playfully, removing it from Ciel’s shoulder with his free hand before the omega could protest and hitching it over his own. “There, now is that so bad, omega?”

“Ciel,” he corrected, not unkindly.

“What?”

Ciel looked up at Sebastian, eyes shining bright with confidence rather than the usual petulance as explained, “Don’t call me by my dynamic, please. My name is Ciel, not omega.”

“Alright, Ciel.” The incubus craned his neck to read the time on the clock some fifty feet away, ignoring every single student but the one whose hand was tucked away in his own. It wasn’t carnal in any way, shape or form, but it wasn’t without merit. The simple intimacy provided him with a subtle nourishment he hadn’t felt before. Like an aperitif, light and refreshing, taken before the meal to spark the appetite without overwhelming the senses. It was… nice.

Reluctantly, Ciel’s fingers released Sebastian’s and he took hold of the door handle. “I have to talk to Druitt about giving me an extension for the assignment I didn’t hand in last week,” and when he saw the incubus was about to follow, he added, “you stay.”

Sebastian snorted, and ignored the command. He picked up the scent from under the door, thick and cloying like clove and jasmine that stuck to your throat and made it hard to breathe. He heard the sharp intake of breath when the teacher saw his little master, and felt the corresponding arousal stir the stagnant air in the classroom. Silently, he claimed a seat in the first row by the window as Ciel stood before the desk leaden with marked reports and quizzes. He could tell by the way there was no fold at the corner staple that held multiple pages, that the teacher had assigned each project a mark at random, not having read or corrected any of the work inside. It confirmed what he already thought about Mister Druitt – lazy, opportunistic and with a misplaced sense of authority.

“Phantomhive,” Druitt practically crooned. He spared a glance at Sebastian, but then looked away just as quickly. In the half second it took him to do so, he was unable to hide his immediate dislike for the student. He was intruding on their reunion. A week away from his precious little flower had been too much. He’d worried the boy had had his first heat, had gone mad with worry fretting over it, but was relieved when he noticed his scent had not changed in the significant way a mated omega’s did. As it was, he was riled with pent up frustration and desperately needed to have Ciel rub his scent all over him, or the pair of underwear that had belonged to the omega when he was a young boy, that he kept in his school desk for desperate times. “You’re looking,” he paused, wanting to say delicious, “well. What brings you to class twenty minutes early?”

Ciel hadn’t missed it, the alpha was irritated, on edge. He could tell by the way his hand was on the verge of breaking the chalk he held. “I’m well. I was helping one of the omegas at home through their heat last week, Sir, so I didn’t have time to finish my essay on Canto III and the symbolism through the layers of Hell. I was hoping you’d give me an extension?” He flashed a sweet smile, hoping it would be enough, especially since he was putting him on the spot with Sebastian present.

Druitt broke into a fit of unattractive cackling with occasionally snorting. He stopped, and as the omega before him opened his perfect pouted mouth, he started again, banging a hand on the desk. He clutched his chest dramatically and sighed noisily, “Oh, Phantomhive, that was perfect. I needed a good joke first thing Monday morning. That was likely the best excuse for not doing work that’s ever been given.” He wiped a tear from his eye and turned his attention to the other alpha in the room. “Have you ever heard of such ridiculousness in your life? An omega helping another omega in heat?” And when the handsome, dark-haired young man only quirked a brow in response, he reached a hand out towards Ciel, and pat it sympathetically, “You must have been about as useful as a bicycle is to a fish, little one.”

A deep, rumbling resonance coming from somewhere near the windows had both Ciel and Druitt facing that direction, the only difference between them was that the omega knew where the sound originated. He shook his head infinitesimally at the incubus in warning. “If you want, I’m sure I could get Mister Sutcliffe to write you a note, Mister Druitt,” Ciel offered, thinking he would just have Sebastian forge it.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary dear. Why don’t we discuss how you can make up for this late assignment before class starts,” he nearly whined, withdrawing his hand from Ciel’s and fingering the small key in his pocket that unlocked his cabinets with palpable anticipation. He was glad for the tall desk that concealed his growing erection. Already, he felt his knot swell at the base of his cock just thinking about being alone with the omega.

“Mr. Michaelis is it? You’re a truant, aren’t you? You were supposed to start last week in my class, but we can talk about that after school. Now if you wouldn’t mine leaving, I need… I need…”

“No,” Sebastian answered point blank. “I’ll stay if you don’t mind.”

Ciel swallowed as Druitt’s scent spiked, aggressive in its display of domineering pheromones. Had Sebastian not been there, the omega would have found it difficult not to whimper out of sheer instinct.

“Oh, but I must insist,” Druitt growled, walking towards the door, unashamed by the bulge showing in his too-tightly fitted pants. “You see, Phantomhive is my prized student. So smart, so full of potential. If he should fall behind, I couldn’t forgive myself.” He smiled widely, baring his teeth as his canines extended. “Now get out,” he ordered turning the handle to open the door.

It didn’t budge. Sure, it shook and grew noisier the more the teacher manhandled it, but it never opened. Druitt’s chin lifted, his eyes resting on the hook at the very top of the door, it hadn’t been latched. Ciel licked his lips and looked over his shoulder at Sebastian who wore a mirrored pleased expression. The incubus crossed his long legs and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and getting comfortable. The teacher’s chair rolled of its own accord from behind his desk to the front so that Ciel could sit down.

Druitt appraised them both, the lavender of his irises being eclipsed by his dilating pupil in anger. “Now see here,” he began and tried to take a step towards them, tried being the optimal word. He was rooted to the spot, in a state of partial paralysis. His eyes moved about the room, and he was able to move his mouth to speak, but that was the limit of his mobility.

“We’re going to be play a game, Aleistor,” Sebastian told the teacher, his voice much deeper than what was customary for the alpha. “I’ll be the teacher for a bit and ask you questions. If you tell the truth, like a good boy, I’ll reward you. If you don’t, Ciel gets to punish you. Now blink twice so I know you understand.”

Ciel could see it in his teacher’s face, the man was wholeheartedly trying to shake his head no. He didn’t want to play the game in which he was being forced to participate. The irony was so satisfying, the omega practically purred his delight.

Then Druitt blinked twice.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he grumbled, having a difficult time moving his mouth to say the words.

“I know, but I got sick of waiting,” Sebastian said, as a desk came towards him so he could put his legs up. “Okay, first question. An easy one. Is your real surname Druitt?”

The teacher hesitated, then finally said, “No. It’s Chamber.”

“Very good Mister Chamber, see how easy that was?” Sebastian mocked the man. He snapped his fingers and Druitt’s shirt buttons began unfastening themselves one by one, revealing more of the pallid skin beneath.

“What are you doing?” Druitt barked. He couldn’t even look down towards his chest as his dress shirt sagged off one shoulder, then the other and fell to the floor.

“I’m rewarding you. Isn’t this what you wanted, Mister Chamber? To be naked for Phantomhive?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m his teacher.”

“Ah, but that’s a lie, I can tell.” The demon brought his hand up to examine his nails, and they turned sooty upon inspection; he made no effort to cover them up. “You know how they say Santa sees you when you’re sleeping, and he knows when you’re awake? Who do you think taught him that?”

Ciel snickered and his eyes smiled, “Are you saying that Santa is…”

“Yeah, whoever was in charge at Coca-Cola got some letters mixed up,” Sebastian disclosed, winking at the pretty omega. He could feel Ciel relax, it was likely the most calm he’d ever felt in the presence of the pervert -- at least, the mortal pervert. “So, Ciel, what’ll it be? How do you want to punish Mr. Chamber?”

Druitt’s eyes widened in their sockets and apprehension filled them.

Ciel turned in the chair, a grinning face meeting that of the demon’s. “For real? He can’t move?”

“He can’t hurt you,” Sebastian replied, and the chair rolled back towards him; he felt better having his master next to him and farther from the molester.

Ciel leaned over, whispered in Sebastian’s ear and felt the incubus’ cheek lift in a smile as he explained what it was he wanted. The drapes fell over the large windows and Druitt marched towards the desk in heavy, rigid steps that his nervous system fought against. It was no match for the will of a hellspawn.

“Up you go,” Sebastian said in a sing-song tone. As he was tossed in the air, Druitt’s toes hit the lip of the desk and he fell forward. Without his hands to halt his fall, the wind was knocked out of him as his chest caught on the edge of the lacquered tabletop. His chin followed and he bit too hard into his tongue. Blood spilled from his mouth, dribbled down his face and neck and onto his bared chest and collar of his crisp white shirt. “Oh dear, I miscalculated the height,” Sebastian fussed. This time when he set Druitt to stand at the center of the desk, he was more successful.

His eyes never left the omega at his side, and he was impressed at the lack of reaction from the brave little thing. He hadn’t flinched at the sight of Druitt’s lifeforce pouring out of him, or at his groans of pain. “Now, Ciel, you said four times?” He verified.

Ciel nodded curtly, his legs joining his devil’s, folded over them so that their respective shoes were touching. Sebastian’s red sneakers dwarfed Ciel’s scuffed and tattered loafers, something the omega found comforting on an instinctual level.

Suddenly, Druitt’s hand flew up to his face and he smacked himself across the cheek. And again, and again and again. Each time, the demon’s fake pleas of “stop hitting yourself Aleistor,” were met with a shaking of Ciel’s shoulders.

“You got off easy that time, Chambers, your student is much kinder than I would have been. Are you ready for your next question?”

In answer, Druitt spit out more blood, the tips of his long blond mane doused in the red fluid. The veins at his neck were standing out, he was straining himself to shout for help, the demon could feel it, he wondered if Ciel could too.

Sebastian lowered himself in his seat to more comfortably watch the pathetic squirming teacher up high on the desk. “I’ll take that as a yes. Tell us, Aleistor, why did you change your name to Druitt?”

“I had to get a job,” Druitt answered quickly this time.

“That seems like an incomplete answer,” Ciel piped up, raising a brow suspiciously.

Sebastian could have kissed Ciel then and there if he wasn’t so afraid of slaughtering the adorable minx sitting next to him. He settled for holding his fist out to him and felt heat spread to his extremities when it was met with a subtle bump. “You’re right, he’s hiding something. You’d do well working where I’m from, there might even be some openings in Tartarus if you’re interested…”

“I’d rather not, you’re barely tolerable. I can’t imagine living among your race,” Ciel confessed. He was pleased by the teacher’s anxiety -- it imbued the space, the air heavy with the reek of rotting flowers and a fetid animal scent.

Sebastian pushed the boy playfully with his shoulder, “Quit flattering me and dole out your punishment.”

“No, please! I… I have a record. I’m a sex offender,” the teacher blurted, licking his crimson-drenched lips.

“Don’t sugarcoat it. You’re a pedophile. Go on, you can say it, Aleistor. It doesn’t come to a surprise to myself or your student,” Sebastian teased the older man, at the same time that his aura reached out and blanketed Ciel before he could notice a change in his scent. The change never came. The omega was stoic, his face unreadable except for the small ‘v’ that knitted itself between his brows. He was deep in concentration, either reliving his experiences or thinking up a punishment worse than a few assaults to the face.

Whatever it was, Sebastian left him to his contemplation and rewarded the deviant as was part of their agreement. Druitt’s belt buckle came undone and his trousers fell to his ankles. “How risqué Mister Chambers. No undergarments today? Do those get in the way when you rape your students?”

“I’ve never! Phantomhive tell him. I’ve never penetrated you with my…”

Sebastian stood abruptly, his chair falling over with the force of his acrimonious disgust. Druitt was lifted bodily by the demon’s pulsing tendrils and slammed into the chalkboard that lined the wall behind the desk and held him suspended there. The rolled up map hanging at the center of the board groaned and whacked the teacher over the head, nicking his nose on the way down with a loud crack. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re a good pedophile then? Please. I saw your name had been on the alpha registry for omegas in heat, Aleistor. You stated quite clearly that rare under tens who matured too quickly should be relegated to you.” Even Hell had standards. Such monsters were not permitted in the more habitable areas, they were sent to drown in Cocytus for eternity, in front of an audience that placed bets on who would last longest. “Well? Does he deserve punishment, Ciel?” Sebastian asked with baited breath. The thought of the older man doing anything to his perfect omega had him champing at the bit to administer his own agonizing discipline.

From behind, all Sebastian heard was laughter. It grew in intensity, sweet at first, then menacing. Ciel’s head was thrown back, his hands wrapping around his belly. He stood, but nearly fell soon after as a fit of giggles possessed him. The omega took his place at the incubus’s side and held his flexed forearm for support as he tried to speak through his mirth.

“M-Mister Druitt, your dick… it’s so s-small!” No wonder the pervert always took him from behind, no wonder he had to settle for children. “Are you really an alpha?”

Sebastian joined Ciel in his jeering, fists pounding the desk, knees slapped, Ciel’s arm slung over the incubus’ shoulders when he doubled over. They stopped a moment, but when they looked at one another, Sebastian made the tiniest squeaking noise as he tried to suppress his laughter, and both of them were howling again, like they were equals, friends, rather than master and slave or sustenance and consumer. Their amusement echoed in the classroom and drowned out whatever it was that Druitt was saying. Neither of them cared.

The teacher was visibly sweating, it dripped from his forehead and a flush creeped along this face and spread across his chest. Humiliation. Shame. Were Sebastian a malebranche, he’d be in a state of paralytic bliss. But Ciel’s levity was so potent, his sense of power so palpable, it was nearly as good as sex.

“Unlock the drawers to the desk, Sebastian,” Ciel ordered, finally regaining his composure.

Sebastian complied, the locks on each individual drawer snapping off and sliding open with a creak. The demon nearly stopped the boy from approaching Druitt, but merely resolved to hold the man more solidly in his shadowed grip. Curiously, he tracked all of Ciel’s movements: dumping out the teacher’s possessions onto the floor, getting to his knees to sort through the pile of junk and then forcing Druitt’s eyes closed when he dared peer at the boy’s backside.

The teacher hadn’t stopped trying to get his student’s attention, starting with begging, please, please, stop this… you can’t do this and was interrupted mid-threat will report you to Him… you’ll regret this… when Ciel came back up, school girl skirt in hand and a triumphant smile on his face.

Sebastian offered to put the garment on the teacher for Ciel, but his master declined, explaining that he derived more satisfaction in forcing the pervert’s hips through a too tight skirt and tearing the fabric in the process. It didn't fit well, not like it would have on Ciel. Druitt was too soft in some areas, the plushy flesh spilling over the hem, while his legs were too hairy, too knobbly and accentuated with a poorly shaved pubic area and accompanying red-dotted rash.

“Explain what it is you like about demeaning children, Druitt.” Ciel commanded, dropping formalities and taking over the interrogation as if he had been born to be a prosecutor.

The teacher couldn't look anyone in the face anymore. Tears actually splashed onto the concrete classroom floor. He was choking on snot and spit in his admissions. “I've been trying to tell you... I took my name off that list eight years ago… when I met you, Phantomhive. I don't want anyone but you anymore.”

Anger coursed through the omega, the scent of ripe berries boiled to a tart reduction made even the demon flinch. Before thinking, Ciel grabbed the meter stick that had fallen with the map and stuck the pitifully distressed alpha across the face, cutting into his cheek and slicing the skin like it were butter. “Don’t you fucking toy with me!” he growled, bringing the stick up again, further back this time for even more impact.

Sebastian reached over the desk, and held the meter in place before the omega could use it a second time. “He’s telling the truth,” he said, leaping over the desk and pulling Ciel back between his legs as they both kept their eyes on Druitt. “Watch,” he instructed, as he took a handful of Ciel’s slate hair clinging to his slender neck and pushed it to the side. His warm lips found the skin there and as his eyes held the teacher’s, he slowly mouthed down the graceful column. He shivered and groaned and resisted the urge to sink his teeth into Ciel; not to hurt him, of course, but to lay claim to him, to fill his mouth with Ciel’s essence.

Ciel sighed, and Sebastian felt the tiny hairs along his master’s skin stand at attention against his tongue. “Do you like when I kiss your kitten, Aleistor?” Sebastian noticed Ciel taking hold of the devil’s free hand and bringing it to the front of the omega’s shirt. Sweet little imp, he must have seen the anguish in his teacher’s eyes and wanted to add to it. The incubus’ hand untucked Ciel's shirt and his hand crawled under, fingers spreading over his quivering belly possessively, revealing a flash of smooth skin for the alpha. “Mine,” he growled greedily, kneading what little fat there was and leaving claw marks along the supple flesh. He couldn’t get enough of the boy, was starved for him. Six months without food had been nothing in comparison to not touching Ciel for a week.

Druitt was shouting at them both, crying and gagging, “Get your hands off him!” The more Sebastian’s arousal peaked, the more demented the alpha became, the more he thrashed against the invisible restraints. Sebastian’s hands sought out all the fertile areas of his master’s body, squeezing his rounded hips as he pushed his engorged member against the boy's backside, breathed hot over his scent gland, caressed his chest all while staring at Druitt, goading him, daring him to speak the words at the forefront of his mind for Ciel. “I've put in too much time with this one. Mine. MINE! Puppies too.”

Ciel went rigid. Someone wanted puppies with him? Thought he would actually make a decent parent after his upbringing? He almost softened, but Druitt went on, snarling the words, frothing at the mouth as spit sprayed their vicinity.

“Gonna fill you. Breed you. Have dozens of puppies. Not gonna wanna fuck you when you're thirty. Gonna have replacements for you. Lots and lots of replacements. All going to look pretty like you. Like me. Perfect. To fuck and groom. Spares.”

Spares.

Stuff them in an attic. Keep them secret. Try out discipline on them first to make sure it works, use the spare’s blood for monthly transfusions, raise the spare for organs should the brother need them.

The moment Sebastian felt Ciel snap, he let go of the teacher, who crumpled to the floor onto his knees, trying to get to his feet using the desk for support. The omega was on him immediately. Had twisted his right hand in the teacher’s tie and was choking him. “No spares. None. Do you understand?”

Sebastian had heard of mothers having super strength when their children were in danger, but he’d never had anticipated an omega doing the same for their nonexistent offspring. He didn't stop his master. Watched as Druitt went blue, his arms flailing weakly as unconsciousness set in and then as they fell limply at his side when his head was repeatedly smashed into the desk before him.

“Ciel. Ciel. Stop,” Sebastian told the boy softly, covering the hand that had gripped the back of Druitt’s head with his own until it stilled.

Ciel pulled away as if he'd been electrocuted, his breathing erratic, his uniform and beautiful face splattered with the teacher’s blood. His deep blue eyes were sparkling, unblinking, still immaculately virtuous and set in elegant contrast with the gore he’d caused. “Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck,” he repeated as a mantra backing away from the corpse.

“Master?” Sebastian asked, approaching Ciel the way he would an injured animal.

“You were supposed to be an alpha when people were around!” Ciel accused, as if that would have made any difference. How often had he fantasized about hurting Druitt? Painting him in his own filthy fluids? Of doing exactly this? Never, for the last question. He’d never imagined it being this satisfying.

“He wasn't people. He was a monster,” Sebastian said in his own defense.

“Good,” Ciel breathed, relief flowing out of him in a long sigh, “I'm glad we can agree to that.” And he smiled, until the bell rang to signal first period.

Chapter Text

Killing someone, in the absence of feeling guilty about it, was probably the biggest rush Ciel had ever experienced. It had made him feel powerful, and if ever caught, some might argue in his defense that he’d lost control; nothing could be farther from the truth -- every bone crushing sound, every spatter of blood, every inch he tightened the pedophile’s tie in his grip, while not calculated, had been one hundred percent intentional. That the man died of his injuries was just a bonus. And Sebastian standing there, approval unmistakable in his smirk, the pride that rolled off him like he was a parent watching their child take their first step only added to the heady sensation.

It was a vastly different feeling when compared to inadvertently killing the only person to have shown you any measure of kindness.

Adrenaline still coursed through him, the thrill of the last ten minutes possessing his lithe body, making it tremble with pent up energy that begged for release. He saw the incubus’ lips move, focused on the way his too long tongue sometimes peeked between them. Watched as Sebastian knelt next to the teacher’s corpse and hoisted him up so he was standing. Maybe dropping was a better word.

“... do master?” Sebastian asked.

“What?” Ciel answered, giving his head a shake. Everything seemed surreal. Like he was watching the scene unfold before him like a dream. Druitt was dead. He’d never put his disgusting hands on him again. Never leer at him in class, or smell his stank breath or cum on his skin after the alpha smeared himself against him. He recoiled just thinking about it.

“Students are lined up just outside the door, what would you like to do, master?” Sebastian repeated, feeling Ciel’s revulsion and resolving to hold the dead man up by the tips of his tendrils instead, like he were holding the world’s most repulsive bug. It very well might have been.

Ciel could see the silhouettes of students just outside the door’s frosted window pane. He made out Bard and Ronald’s enormous builds, even heard them laugh about something, though he wasn’t sure what. “I dunno. Just get rid of the body or something,” he instructed, taking his backpack in hand and leaving Sebastian at the front of the class to go take his regular seat at the back.

“I’m low on energy at present,” Sebastian said, and as if to prove his point, Druitt sagged a little more in his stance as the incubus’ tendrils relinquished their hold on him. “Between preparing your room, and… others, then taking everything down again, I might have overdone it.” He neglected telling him about Sieglinde and the injuries caused by his disgruntled pet; he wasn’t ready to share his backstory with the boy yet, and discussing it would just lead to unnecessary questions.

“Impossible! You ate for nearly a week straight, like at least four or five times a day! You should have energy reserves for a decade!” Ciel was all snark as was his habit when he started getting antsy. The excited flush had subsided, and his more rational side kicked in. He started doing mental calculations: sixteen years old, omega killing an alpha, orphaned omega killing an alpha, prior record… maybe twenty-four years in the slammer?

“You think that kind of romantic gesture comes without a price tag, sunshine?” Sebastian bit back. It was kind of true, except that usually the cost was recuperated in the form of carnal delights. “We only have one option, really.”

“And what’s that?”

Sebastian blew air out of his puffed cheeks and threw the teacher onto the desk, ready to remove his garments. “I’ll have to eat him.”

“No. Ew, gross, Sebastian. No.” Ciel turned his head towards the opposite wall, shielding his eyes in case the demon had already begun.

“Tch… you say that like I want to do it. He’s awful. This is going to give me indigestion for a month, Ciel. A month,” Sebastian emphasized, as he stared down at the cooling body spread eagle on the desk. He was slightly better in death, but that wasn’t saying much. “I’m doing you a favour here, and we’re running out of time.”

Ciel’s fists found his temples and he rubbed circles into them. He needed time to think. His fantasies of killing Druitt usually stopped after the deed was done, it never played out til the body was disposed. If he was sloppy, he would get caught. His head fell back and he stared up at the finely fissured ceiling tiles. “Put him up there,” he ordered Sebastian, “for now at least.”

No sooner said, the monster was elevated some fifteen feet into the air with the help of the demon’s aura, the suspended tile moved aside to allow its passage, then hid the body from view. Sebastian’s shadow barely soaked up the blood and gore when the door was forced open by Bard, brandishing an office key.

The alpha’s eyes landed first on Ciel, narrowing in suspicion when he was met with pink tinted cheeks from the omega. “I told you Phantomhive would be in here with Druitt,” he elbowed Ronald and wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Sebastian had done well to conceal his presence by the door, and allowed a few students to pour in before joining the queue. He sat in front of Ciel and turned his body so he could more easily look at him. The boy was jumpy and agitated, his eyes blinked too fast for what was considered normal and they darted from the ceiling to the teacher’s desk every few seconds. The incubus took his hand and held it on the desk and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Ciel didn’t return the hand hug. He was numb, knees bouncing under his desk. He looked dead ahead, barely catching the scathing, but confused exchange between students; they weren’t surprised by Ciel’s presence, knowing Druitt’s preference for him, but they were baffled by the teacher’s absence when they had an assignment due.

“Where’s Druitt, Phantomhive? Did he have to go wash himself after he was done with you?” Irene boasted, sitting up on her desk, facing the incubus. Her long, smooth legs were crossed one over the other and if Ciel wasn’t mistaken, she’d hitched her skirt up a little.

There was laughter and a deep-seated growl.

“You can’t wash off herpes, Irene,” Paula blurted, throwing her hair over her shoulder and joining in the hilarity.

A heavy, oppressive scent fell over the room; anger roiled in the atmosphere and a faint shimmer disturbed the air like a heat haze. The pressure in the room was increasing, and the air suddenly seemed over-humid and burdensome, making it difficult to breathe. Ciel was the only one unaffected. Some students clasped their chests, forcing air in and out of their lungs, while others held on to their desks or their chairs for support.

So they knew. All of them knew what the pervert was doing to his master and did nothing. While he didn’t doubt that Ciel was the strongest of them, the best of them, he was also the most physically vulnerable. The smallest entity in Hell was always guarded, cherished even. Here, at the surface, it seemed even children were of little value -- mistreated, sold and manipulated.

“I assume you know this from experience, Paula?” Sebastian quipped, a menacing curl appearing on his upper lip, “Or is that omegan smell of yours supposed to be fishy?”

The omega in question whined, hanging her head to hide her shame. Her chestnut hair contoured her face and she said nothing more. An awkward silence befell room one-twenty-one, before Bard broke it, asking again where their teacher was. He was now ten minutes late and the class was getting restless.

“We could just leave…” one of them said, “like last time.”

A handful of students looked to Sebastian for guidance since he’d led their rebellion just over a week ago. He simply sat there, ignoring them, his full attention on the slate-haired boy.

“No way. You heard Sister Francis, the next time we leave class early, it’s a month’s detention with her.”

“Maybe Druitt’s not even here today.”

“His car is in the parking lot, look,” Ronald pointed to the black convertible just outside the window in the teacher’s designated space.

Ciel’s eyes were fixed on the blackboard at the front of the class and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he thought, maybe the ceiling tiles just overhead were bulging under the weight of the corpse.

“Well something went down before we got here,” Bard announced, walking to the front of the class, “the map fell off the board. I wonder if someone was pushed too hard against it?” He smiled viciously at Ciel as he positioned the map back into place on its hook.

He wasn’t that far off the mark, Ciel realized. Maybe they’d forgotten something else. He needed everyone’s attention diverted from the front, but how? What had the capacity to entertain a bunch of teenagers for an hour?

Sebastian cleared his throat softly, only for Ciel to notice. The omega had zoned out, and he could tell by the panic on his face that his mind was racing with every single scenario that could go wrong. Did he not trust that his incubus would keep him safe? That with a bit of feeding, he could easily wipe the memories of the few students who may suspect anything? It’s probably something he should have told him prior to the students coming into class, but he was so enthralled by Ciel’s initial high, that it had totally escaped him.

“Well I’m going to go tell Sister Francis that Druitt isn’t here.”

Sebastian might have covered up the scent of distressed alpha when he cleaned up, but if anyone was going to discern something, it would be the nun. She’d known him at least a decade, was attuned to his smell and had taught in this very classroom herself for some time, so would notice if things were suspiciously out of place. Ciel had to keep her away from here at all costs, until they got rid of the body.

He stood bolt upright and knocked his chair over in the process. “Sebastian will teach the class,” he announced. The students went silent, all eyes were on him; it was better than the ceiling at the front at least. Especially now as a faint rosy trace of goopy liquid seeped through the inexpensive tile and spread from a central point outwards.

Sebastian gazed up at his master trying to decipher what it was Ciel wanted from him. On the outside, the omega was a perfect picture of serenity, even the taunting by his peers hadn’t seem to bother him much -- perhaps he’d been used to it, and that thought soured the incubus’ mood again.

Glad the students hadn’t turned on the lights upon entering the classroom, Sebastian sent his darkened filaments crawling on the floor, slinking their way under the desk towards Ciel until it took hold of him. He closed his eyes a moment, concentrating on reading the boy’s inner turmoil, trying to sense past the obvious fear his master felt, picking it apart: dread, anxiety, helplessness… and panic. Panic was what Ciel had felt when the corpse had been on full display at the front of the class.

Barely a one-hundredth of a second had passed as Sebastian processed this information and without turning his head towards the front of the class, he saw it. Fuck.

“Sure,” he agreed, getting to his feet. He dug into his schoolbag, which held a couple apples he’d grown overnight -- props of course, but Ciel might still be trying to recover his energy after his week of hard work. The only other object within was the case he’d been after in the first place. He withdrew it, popped it open, and slipped on a pair of sleek glasses. “I can give it a go,” he said winking at the omega and walking around him.

Ciel watched as Sebastian sauntered to the back of the class; I guess he wasn’t joking about having eyes behind his head, he thought wryly, finally taking a breath of relief as all eyes followed the alpha. He had a captive audience, and it only grew more so as he stripped off his school blazer and let it fall to the floor behind him.

With the way Ciel rolled his eyes, to what felt like the very back of his head, he was expecting to be able to see the front of the class the way Sebastian did. But no luck.

A wavy-haired omega boy picked up the jacket and held it to his chest like it was his most cherished possession. It probably was. Ciel was tempted to go over to him and rip it out of his arms. No. He wasn’t tempted, those were his nerves taking over, maybe a little residual aggression. Nothing more.

“And what will you be teaching, Professor Michaelis?” the teacher’s pet crooned, scraping his chair against the linoleum so he could be within kiss-ass distance.

After the racket subsided, you could have heard a pin drop with how deathly silent it was in the room. Ciel on the other hand, heard something viscous drip onto the floor. He cleared his throat for Sebastian, who adjusted his glasses, rolled his shirtsleeves halfway up his arms and loosened his school tie. What the hell was he planning on teaching anyway? It’s not like he had a marketable skill or any depth of knowledge…

“The only thing I know,” the incubus told them, pushing three empty desks together and shooting a sly glance over his shoulder at the class, “sex.”

Ciel’s groan was missed as a collective gasp overshadowed the guttural sound. If chocolate summoned an incubus, what would it take to send the thot back? Broccoli?

“Will you need an assistant?” Irene asked, still sitting on the edge of her desk, twirling her golden locks around her finger.

The spiked scent of omega in the classroom was proof of all their eagerness to help out the supply teacher. Ciel half expected the alphas to protest or storm out, but it seemed they were equally enthralled by the prospect of learning what the incubus had to teach.

“Indeed I will,” Sebastian told them, and no less than sixteen students stood and rushed the back of the class. Sebastian’s hands came up, halting them, “Stay at your seats, I’ll come to you. This will be a hands on kind of lesson.”

The class tittered at his lame double-entendre, some of them actually swooned and fanned themselves and Ciel wondered what it was he’d done wrong in previous lives to find himself in this classroom at this time, with these people. And yet, he didn’t have much of a choice but to play along with it.

Sebastian strolled between students, slender fingers skimming the surface of their desks in some perverse game of Duck, Duck, Goose, with every individual hoping to be the one selected to give chase. Sometimes he lingered longer near the alphas to assert his dominance when he felt them trying to resist his charm, other times he accidentally brushed an omega’s arm to elicit a whine, no doubt to bolster his ego.

“We’re going to do things a little differently for this lesson; we’re actually going to start with questions to break the ice,” he addressed them, his tone a little more like his demon one, deeper, sultrier and with a hint of teasing. “Come now, don't be shy.”

Ciel was starting to think interrogation was a favored torture technique of the demon. They were nearly as speechless as Druitt had been.

“Sweet Wendy, I can tell just looking at you that there’s something you're dying to say. Are you afraid that it might be too personal?” the teacher asked, tilting the brunette’s chin upwards to meet his smoldering gaze.

The omega swallowed and nodded shyly.

“Go on then dear, nobody’s judging you,” Sebastian purred.

Ciel pressed his lips flat and crossed his arms over his chest. In his head he called the incubus every name imaginable: tramp, harlot, tart, strumpet… He knew what Sebastian was, but it didn't make it any easier to watch.

“H-how many times have you, you know, Professor?” Wendy breathed.

Sebastian released the girl and looked off in the distance. Ciel could practically see the hamster wheel turning in his head as the incubus’ brow furrowed in concentration.

“To be perfectly honest with you, Wendy, I lost count once I reached tens of thousands.”

A hush fell over the class and Ciel reeled. Tens of thousands? Disgusting. Why so many? And then he thought of every piece of food that he himself had put into his mouth. It was kind of the same wasn't it? In his sixteen years he definitely ate close to twenty thousand meals, and he was only a fraction of Sebastian’s age.

A shaky hand went up three seats behind Wendy. An alpha this time, stern looking, usually quiet, eyebrows much too thick to be attractive, Sebastian thought.

“Greenhill?”

“Is it okay to enjoy pain while you…” Greenhill asked, and as a blush spread across his cheeks, a sheepish smile followed it.

“Fuck, Greenhill? Is that the word you’re looking for? Fuck?” Sebastian walked over to the boy, definitely fixing him with a predatory smile.

Ciel examined the incubus’ profile; while everyone was busy looking at his dimples or checking out his ass, Ciel saw the demon’s nostrils flaring the tiniest bit, saw his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Clever bastard was feeding off them. They did seem more lethargic than usual, as if under a semi-trance.

“Yes, it’s okay,” Sebastian whispered loudly next to the boy’s ear, tone endearingly condescending. “I myself, love pain, Greenhill.” The incubus’ hand crawled along the alpha’s neck, and disappeared into his thick, blond hair. Gripping it tightly at the roots and corseting the strands, he pulled Greenhill’s head back and the boy hissed. “If you’re inexperienced, you can start with something as simple as hair pulling.”

The class seemed to hold their breath. Watched as Greenhill’s eyes widened in surprise, then rolled towards the ceiling, his lips parting in a muted ahhh.

“But it’s awkward in this position, isn’t it, alpha? Why don’t you stand for me?” Sebastian ordered, pulling him up, still by a fistful of hair, until he was on his feet, then kicked the chair off to the side. He bent the alpha over his own desk and massaged his scalp, digging his fingers into it. Greenhill hummed and spread his legs unconsciously. Sebastian’s nails dug in, scratching as his fingers tangled in the boy’s locks, then pressed himself against the alpha’s back he gave it a tug.

Greenhill licked his lips and took the bottom one between his teeth. The scent of black licorice had two nearby omegas whimpering and Sebastian took the opportunity to moan, “Does that feel good?”

Greenhill nodded. Sebastian pulled again. More forceful this time.

“Tell the class, Herman…”

“Yes! Yesss…” he cried out, rolling his hips subtly into the desk.

“Good boy,” the incubus praised, smoothing out his hair and leaving him in a drooling heap on the desk.

Irene’s hand shot up from where she sat. By the sight of her, chest heaving, breath quickening in slow increments, she was riled and ready to jump the teacher. “Professor!” she demanded, not even waiting for him to answer. “Professor, what turns you on?”

“Ciel,” Sebastian answered simply, not even bothering to look at her but rather at the omega in question, “and deepthroating.”

Sophie leaned over in the aisle, whispering to Susannah, “What’s deepthroating?”

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth came up and something like amusement flashed in his eyes before he turned away from Ciel. “Ladies… are we speaking without raising our hands?”

Ciel was met by Irene’s glare when he looked away from Sebastian, she was bearing her teeth at him, and in return, he gave her a cocky smile that spoke to his renewed confidence. He knew the incubus was just putting on a show, doing an excellent job of keeping them distracted from the small puddle that had accumulated under Druitt’s desk, but he still swelled with pride. He found himself less dreading what the incubus had up his sleeve next, and more curious about this enticing side.

When he turned his attention back to the demon, Sebastian was sifting through Sophie’s backpack, bent at the waist, the fabric at his backside stretched and purposefully strained. He came back up, holding a banana from the omega’s lunch, and pushed his glasses back up on his head.

At his desk, Ronald opened his notebook and held his pen, poised to start taking notes.

“Deepthroating,” Sebastian told the class, taking his time peeling the fruit one segment after the other, “is a special kind of oral sex, that is really dependent on one thing… Hunger. Deepthroating isn’t something you do when you’re peckish, it’s not a snack or an appetizer, or something to whet your appetite, and it’s not dessert either. It’s the motherfucken main course. You can’t deep throat if you’re not starving for cock. You’ve really got to want it. You’ve got to leave your inhibitions at the door, get messy, open your mouth wide for it, drool all over that dick, then make yourself choke on it.”

The sounds of lips smacking and hearts banging against rib cages was audible in class, at least to the incubus. The air was thick with pheromones, cheap, unappealing scents, yet absent of the one he craved most. What was Ciel's deal? How was he so composed when he knew it would take very little to push some of his peers over the edge?

“A-are you hungry, Professor?” Susannah interrupted his musings, her voice quavering.

Sebastian’s response was almost feral, “Ravenous.”

Students shifted in their seats, the room practically crackled, hot with electricity and arousal as the incubus brought the banana to his lips. He left it there a moment, feeling the weight and firmness of it, then gently smeared it against the soft, warm pink of his mouth. As a sharp intake of breath resonated in their class, Sebastian’s tongue fondled the top quarter of the fruit, making eye contact with the students until they looked away. He lay his wet muscle flat against the underside and licked his way up, sampling the flavour, groaning as he wrapped both hands around it.

An omega mewled, a few alphas’ hands disappeared under their desks, some students followed Sebastian’s eyes and landed on Ciel and looked at him with unmistakable envy. His master was still so stoic, the only one not crossing and uncrossing his legs.

“Mister Michaelis, what you’re doing is just giving a blow job, this isn’t deepthroating, you’re all talk aren’t you?” Bard complained, running a hand through his bristled hair, pretending he wasn’t at all effected. His scent said otherwise.

“I was merely getting the banana ready, Bardroy. Perhaps, you’d help,” Sebastian murmured, advancing on him. He handed the ridiculous alpha the banana and got on his knees between the brawny boy’s legs. He felt the blond resisting, not out of revulsion, but out of denial. “Now keep it here,” he instructed, setting Bard’s shaking hands around the base of the banana and onto the boy’s crotch, “you might be tempted to jam it hard into my mouth, and that’s okay, that happens sometimes.”

Students stood up, some on their desks and watched as Sebastian lowered his mouth over the tip of the banana and took it to the back of his throat like a champ. He nuzzled the bottom, nose pressed against the zipper of Bard’s trousers and felt a reverberating nudge back. His hands pressed into the alpha’s thighs and he dragged his mouth up and descended again. He did it twice more and on the third time, started panting and moaning around the fruit’s girth. His head bobbed and he sought one of Bard’s hands and interlaced their fingers. The alpha’s hips jerked up enough that Sebastian nearly broke the tip of the banana with how deep it was being forced against his palette. He slowed his pace and looked up at Bard as he moved the blond’s hand into his onyx hair, knocking his glasses off and made a fist over their hands.

In no time, and for effect, Sebastian produced tears that ran down the side of his face, making choking sounds as Bard pushed his head down on the banana and bucked into him willingly. Ron was growling in the background, he was sure Irene was the one weeping and just under his breath, Bard was cursing, hips moving erratically. And so Sebastian put his glasses back on, stood and wiped his mouth.

“Any questions on deepthroating?” he asked the class, brushing the dust off his knees. “No? Okay, anything else?”

Someone moaned, having found their release and if Sebastian wasn’t mistaken, and he rarely ever was, the desks had moved closer to one another. Odd little humans.

Ciel occasionally shot a glance at the clock set just over the door, and the minutes crawled by, but Sebastian filled some of the time up by showing the class where the erogenous zones were on his own body as he was stretched out on the three desks he’s pushed together. He used Peter’s stress ball, cut out a tiny hole at the center that spanned the width of the item then showed them how to properly stretch and finger it. He passed it around to some of the shyer students, guiding their fingers in and out of the stress ball, sometimes with his own stuffed inside as well and demonstrated by use of lewd sounds how well they would fare if they were doing it to him. If he saw them curl their fingers on the other side, even slightly, he cried out in false ecstasy and was often accompanied by a few students who couldn’t stop themselves.

Ciel had to keep reminding himself that those noises weren’t real; Sebastian didn’t whine, he didn’t whimper and moan, he growled, he hissed, he grunted and snarled. He was an absolute beast when he was vexed, and nobody but himself knew this in the room.

They still had some twenty minutes left of the period when half of the class looked exhausted, hunched over their desks and depleted of energy. When the bell would ring for next period, Sebastian would have the necessary energy to get rid of the body; already the mess that had accumulated on the floor had disappeared but not the one at the ceiling. The insatiable incubus just needed more, and short of letting the demon eat him out and losing himself in front of a crowd, they were running out of options. Ciel was also exhausted, tired of restraining his own desire, having closeted it as best as he could. He didn’t like the idea of sharing that part of himself with others, didn’t want to give into his dynamic the way the other omegas did.

Nobody had said anything for a solid minute now and when Sebastian scrutinized Ciel’s features, trying for all the world to figure out what to do next, he was irked that the boy was purposely averting his eyes. “Sometimes,” the incubus started to recapture everyone’s attention, “lovers can be fickle, or resistant and need a bit of convincing. I’m not talking about taking someone against their will -- that, in my opinion, is deserving of a fate worse than death.” He saw Ciel go rigid in his seat and smiled meekly when the omega finally regarded him with an annoyed expression. “But when you know the object of your affections is rejecting what it is that they want out of fear of being perceived a certain way, you have to be more cunning, more direct in seducing them.”

Heads perked up from their desks and eyes followed the direction in which the teacher crooked his finger. Ciel looked at the offending digit as if it were a weapon, shaking his head no minutely side to side. Not me, he mouthed to the incubus, hands wringing in his lap.

“It has to be you,” Sebastian appealed to cover up the sound of the groaning ceiling, hoping Ciel would understand. To keep the body from falling out, he just needed a bit more, and nobody could fill his belly the way Ciel could.

Ciel understood, and he rose from his seat and shuffled self-consciously to the back of the room. He sat on the chair Sebastian pulled out for him and faced his peers with grim determination. This means nothing. This means nothing, he repeated to himself. He had nothing to be ashamed of, right? As far as most of the class knew, Sebastian was into him, and they’d even begun making their relationship public by holding hands in the hall. This was normal for couples.

He stared at his running shoes as Sebastian stood behind him and placed his large hands over his shoulders. Warmth spread through him as the incubus started massaging him, tenderly kneading the tension out of him, and rubbing circles with his thumbs along the side of his neck. He sighed contentedly and tried not to blink for fear he would keep his eyes closed. A massage like this wouldn’t be so bad, he thought.

“Look at my omega,” Sebastian told the class proudly, his hands sliding forward on Ciel’s chest, feeling the bumps of his ribcage, then lower until he passed his navel and the tips of his fingers slipped inside the waist of Ciel’s trousers. “He’s so perfect, so beautiful and small… so feisty,” he added at the end when Ciel tried to swat his hands away. “But he’s tense. And he needs to relax, to be taken care of.”

Sebastian’s hands came up again, this time didn’t stop to linger on his shoulder, but went straight for his hair. The incubus was gentle, it was almost as though he were petting the omega.

“And he deserves it, doesn’t he?” the teacher asked the class, tilting Ciel’s head up to meet his own eyes and smiling down at him kindly. Mesmerized, some of the students nodded fervently. “If anyone has music they can turn on, I’d be grateful.”

It’s just a massage. Ciel was relieved, he thought it would be something more in keeping with… But then he heard the song. Lulling and hypnotic, sensual with a bass that shook his core despite only playing from a handheld speaker some desks away. He felt Sebastian sway behind him, breath hot on his neck, though the demon’s lips weren’t touching him. He shivered, and it seemed to be what Sebastian was waiting for.

The incubus walked around the chair, fingers never leaving the boy’s soft skin as they traced infinity symbols along his bare shoulder, his arm and the back of his hand. Sebastian stopped before the omega, concealing him from sight and as he addressed the class, he unfastened the buttons of his shirt, “Your body is much better at conveying desire than your words are… some of you have the speech capacity of a five year old, so you’re really better off learning how to give someone a nice little lap dance.”

Sebastian took off his tie and threw it in the aisle where two omegas pounced on it right away, both of them bringing it to their noses to sniff the damned thing. In the absence of the tie, a couple of alphas whistled at the exposed skin of the demon’s chest. The shirt fell partially off one of his shoulders as he looked behind at Ciel to gauge his reaction. Bright blue eyes were stuck on an imaginary point on his clothed back so he let the other side fall to reveal the lean musculature.

Someone in class was scandalized by his double piercings, another by the lack of hair on his chest, but all of them, including the little omega hidden behind him, had their eyes glued to his body. He let the shirt fall to the floor and turned his attention to Ciel, straddling his legs, pinning them in place but not quite sitting on them.

Ciel’s hands were gripping his seat at his sides and he was sure the look of shock on his face would have made the demon laugh if he wasn’t so busy trying to get him excited. And it was working. He really never took the time to appreciate how perfectly sculpted the incubus was, how tight the muscles flexed under his flawless skin, but with his chest inches from his face, it was difficult not to notice. He almost forgot they were being watched when Sebastian put a bit more weight on him, and ground himself into his omegan hips.

With their size difference, and the way Sebastian covered most of him, he could let the pleasure dance on his face, roll his eyes back as the demon pulled his hair and licked up his throat. He just had to stay quiet, make sure his scent didn’t overpower the others’ which was growing thick and heavy in the classroom.

Open the windows, he wanted to yell at his peers, as Sebastian turned away from him, and dropped between his now spread legs, bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking at the class. Ciel’s bulge was evident now, throbbing in his trousers, angry at the loss of physical stimulation. He couldn’t be disappointed by the display in front of him when the incubus stood back up though. Sebastian was moving sinuously to the rhythm of whatever song was playing, touching himself, shimmying his own pants even lower on his defined hips. An omega swooned over the sparse trail of hair that led into them, as he removed his belt and gave it a showy snap.

Groans grew louder, omegas straddled alphas, pressing themselves against them, necks rubbing one over the other to increase the tang of horny teenagers fondling their scent glands.

Sebastian bent low in front of Ciel, and without asking permission, Ciel’s trembling, eager hands sought to squeeze and stroke his pretend boyfriend. He barely grazed the fabric when Sebastian was on him again, a menacing rumble deep in his throat.

The devil smoothed the omega’s hair, tucking it behind his ear. His fangs elongated, and he felt the press of horns trying to break through his scalp. A corpse falling through the tile would be the last of their worries if Ciel did anything more to him. “You can’t touch me, Precious,” he whispered, voice savage but low, “it won’t be good. Not here. Not now. Promise you won’t touch.”

When the devil pulled away, Ciel nodded, eyes worried but glazed over with lust. Sebastian kissed the corner of his mouth, his jawline and his neck when he bared it in submission. Ciel moaned as the demon rut into him, feeling the hardness push against his belly. He wanted to grab his hips, his rear, feel the sides of his supple skin, pinch and pull the silver rings on his nipples. Bite him. Mark him as his own.

Ciel’s scent crested, got away from him, filled the class with blossomed fruit and his noises joined the chorus of the others. Desks moved and chairs creaked. A clothed orgy was working itself into a frenzy with sobs and cries and pleas.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it and sending the map back down to the floor.

“What is the meaning of this!”

Sister Francis strode into the room and her presence, as dominating, as fear-inducing as it was, put an end to it all. Even Sebastian stilled in Ciel’s lap, but kissed his forehead in a silent promise to finish later.

“Who’s responsible for this? Who started?” She demanded snarling, followed by a few whimpering students not belonging to Ciel’s homeroom. The pulsing vein on her forehead, made more apparent by the veil pushing her hair back, was nearly as scary as the way she manhandled the students, throwing the omegas still on an alpha’s lap to the floor and kicking them swiftly out of her way. She tapped a piece of wood, much too thick to be a simple ruler, into her palm. It snapped loudly each time. “I have over four hundred students out in the hall. At least twelve of them have gone into early heat and double that are in rut. Nobody can concentrate and you can smell this all the way up to the third floor. Now who is responsible? Where is your teacher?”

Bard pointed to Sebastian, as did Ronald and Irene. The incubus’ crimson eyes never left his omega, but Ciel knew he saw their accusations regardless.

Sebastian stood from Ciel and faced the nun. He had at least three inches on her, but with all her rage, she seemed to tower over him. Sister Francis ripped the spectacles off his face, muttering something about ridiculous, and grabbed him by the ear. Ciel saw the incubus’ shoulders move up and down in repressed laughter as another student explained about Druitt not being there.

Immediately, the omega’s eyes shot to the front of the class, and sure enough, there was no evidence of sagging or pooling blood on the ceiling. He barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief when he heard the teacher tell his boyfriend he had detention with her right away and that the rest of them should get to their next class before the bell rang. Unable to clear the body on his own, Ciel resigned himself and followed the class out of room one-twenty-one.

Sister Francis didn’t relent her grip on Sebastian until they reached her office on the second floor. He didn’t mind, he found it kind of funny to have all those student staring at him, to give the nun an inflated sense of importance. She hinted once or twice for him to start apologizing, with segues like “Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?”, “In a Catholic school of all places…” or “I haven’t seen so much debauchery since accidentally stumbling across Ronald’s internet history…”, but he didn’t give her the reaction she wanted.

Once inside, he sat in front of her desk before she even offered him a seat and lounged lazily with one arm thrown over the backrest. He watched her retrieve a thin file folder and throw it on her desk as she inched an ass onto the corner nearest where he sat.

“Explain yourself.”

“There’s nothing to explain sister, I was doing you a favour…” He blew a bubble with the gum he was not chewing a moment ago, just to further annoy her.

It worked. The nun waited patiently until another purple bubbled pressed through his lips and she caught it with her fingers and after having pinched and squished it, put it at the tip of his nose. Her jaw was set and her top lip curled in indignation, “How so?”

“Well, your hired staff didn’t show up today, so I took it upon myself to give your students a lesson in sexuality. They were all in need of it, trust me,” Sebastian elaborated. He was still topless, without his tie or jacket and he thought he saw the nun’s eyes roam over his body. His tongue wet his top lip, and willing her to look at the length and girth of it to excite her, he extended it and took the gum back into his mouth.

She was having none of it. Quick enough for the incubus to be surprised by the swift motion, she caught his cheeks between her taloned grip and compelled a ridiculous face on him, lips smooshed like a fish. She held her hand out before it and obliged him to spit out the gum. He did. “Your wiles don’t work on me, Mr. Michaelis. I’m a first degree alpha and I was sent to the convent at the age of four. I have an iron will and I don’t crave your body, your seed or your sex. I want peace and obedience.”

Sebastian nodded, and looked up at her, straightening his own posture in his chair. Holy shit, what was she, really? He could detect no familiar supernatural in her, but other than Ciel, no one had resisted him. Finally, she took his hand. The grip was delicate and humane, and she stretched his fingers out on the desk, admiring them. Maybe she had a hand fetish? She was probably imaging what it would feel like to be stuffed with them and to have them pistoning in and out of her holes.

“You have nothing on your file. No previous address or school. No parents. No relations. You’re a nobody, to the government and to me. You can try to keep flying below the radar, but eventually I'll figure out who you are.” From behind her back she produced the jagged ruler and brought it down hard on the hoodlum’s fingers.

“Fuck!” the incubus yeowled, and when he tried to remove them, his hand was secured in place by hers. She brought the ruler down again and he bit his tongue hard and groaned into his own shoulder. How was it hurting so much? Even the lead sprinkler in Hell hadn’t hurt this much.

He pinched his eyes shut as she raised her hand again for a third blow when there was a knock at her door. His chin fell to his chest, panting out slow, pained breaths and Sister Francis left his side to go see who was disturbing her playtime.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sister Francis; but an alpha and omega have begun mating in the art room after having ruined all the papier-mâché projects to make a nest. The alpha has already attacked four students when they tried to tell them to stop, she’s very upset by anyone coming close to her omega.”

“This is your fault,” the nun spat in Sebastian’s direction, “I will tend to this and you will wait here for me, do you understand?”

“Yes, sister,” he muttered, still confused by the power this alpha wielded and he winced when she banged the door behind her, ratting the frame and nearby trinkets on the shelves in her office.

“Hades, what the fuck was that?” he asked to no one, getting to his feet. A new shirt knitted itself over his body and he began snooping, trying to find something that would best the woman for when she returned. Of course he was a demon, and there was definitely one way to take care of her, but with he and Ciel having Druitt to deal with, two cadavers would prove to be too much for one day, especially if he was the last to be seen with Francis.

His hands ran over the spines of books, all of which were religious and it seemed she authored a half dozen herself. He nosed in her cupboards, all of which were full of rosaries, crucifixes, and confiscated cigarettes and porno magazines. He helped himself to one called Ω and rolled it up so it would fit in his back pocket.

He spread the junk on her desk to one side, thinking there might be some kind of summoning symbol cast upon it, and in his hurry, knocked over some pencils. One of them rolled suspiciously away; he hadn’t realized there’d been an incline in the hardwood floor, but as it rolled under a shelf, he heard it bounce down a flight of stone steps.

Strange. He sauntered over and pushed the shelf aside; the path it revealed was one of at least ten steps leading down, illuminated by torches, some of which were only barely hanging on to their light. He was quick descending them, worried the stern woman would return and discover him, and gasped when he saw what she was hiding.

“Oh, Sister, you naughty, naughty girl,” he exulted.

Chapter Text

Sebastian gave Sister Francis exactly until the bell rang, signaling the end of second period, before he left to meet his master. He wondered what had kept her and doubted that it had been the couple trying to mate in the art room. Francis was a legitimate force of nature, like a natural disaster: there was no stopping her, all you had to do was try to survive your encounters with the nun. There was no way in Hell she was only an alpha.. What kind alpha could inflict actual pain on a demon, and one of royal descent at that? He shuddered at the multiple implications.

So, if the new couple wasn’t a match for her clout, then what had gotten in the way of her obvious enjoyment of making him suffer? Maybe she’d picked up on Druitt’s scent, now rank and pungent like rotting meat, mixed with the sickening sweet tinge of his cheap cologne? What if she’d followed it and was led to his body stuffed in the ceiling? He picked up his pace, still in keeping with his human guise, but took the corners a little sharper, and the steps three at a time until he found himself outside the algebra classroom.

The class must have been detained, he imagined after their session with him that they’d been unruly, perhaps worked up, some of them taking liberties with one another. He was sorry he’d missed it. He wondered how Ciel had fared and abruptly, he could care less about the nun or Druitt’s corpse; he’d made his claim on the omega publicly enough, they should know by now to whom Ciel belonged. If they even looked at him, dared make comments or Hades forbid, touch him, they would be joining the dead alpha soon enough.

They filed out one after the other, talking boisterously, making plans now that it was lunchtime, to find a private area on campus, some under the bleachers, others in a few closets smattered around the school. He overheard an omega tell an alpha she was going to pretend to be sick so she could be sent home and that he was welcomed to follow suit since her parents were out of town.

He leaned against the wall just outside the classroom and when they caught sight of him, they lowered their heads, shamefaced, or else became engrossed and animated in a new conversation with a peer about the benefits of using toothpaste on blemishes to dry them out. Sebastian filed the trivial information in his brain for later, absentmindedly (and maybe a little vainly) rubbing the flawless skin of his face.

Ciel was almost the last to exit the room; he came out after the algebra teacher, but an alpha with a fucked up coif, hair standing on end, bleached white and set in contrast with his buzzed sides was talking him up. He actually had the audacity to throw his arm around his master as he bragged about his new Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle parked out back. Ciel was trying to get out from under him, Sebastian even saw the little omega elbow the douche twice in the ribs.

“Hey buddy, do you like your arm where it’s attached right now?” he asked walking up to them, towering over the freak and puffing his chest out like he’d seen so many alphas do on campus. He had to admit, this dynamic was fun to play, but a small part of him put stock in the threat he’d uttered.

“The name’s Cheslock, not buddy,” the other alpha snapped, but complied regardless, catching Sebastian’s potent, possessive scent, then turned his attention towards Ciel. “So yeah, if you ever want a ride, hit me up.” He took off in the opposite direction of the cafeteria and Sebastian made sure he tripped over his own feet twice and smashed into the lockers once before he disappeared around the corner.

Sebastian expected Ciel to laugh, or to have at least reacted to the whole scene, but he just stood there, looking at him with a gaze that traveled, taking in every aspect of the incubus’ human body. And though he was used to being ogled and gawked at, coming from Ciel it unnerved him, made him self-conscious. His little master always seemed two steps ahead and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was the boy had in mind -- was he going to be punished for what he’d done last class? Denied again or put through some kind of elaborate ruse to cover up the murder that would have him doing something embarrassing or ridiculous?

Ciel plucked at his own clothing, the collar of his shirt too hot even for September. He pulled at the bottom hem of his shirt, and adjusted the waist of his trousers before tucking his small hand into Sebastian’s. He sighed as his flushed skin came in contact with the incubus’, and he was aware of the faint scent of pomegranates still lingering upon him. It was met with the scent of sweetened, roasted cocoa beans, causing two omegas’ knees to nearly give out as they walked past.

“You’re incorrigible,” Ciel chuckled, noting his own legs were trembling, his breath shaky as he continued to resist the calming, enticing scent.

Ciel was lucky the demon was about to reach out for his hand when he’d taken his own; had he been taken unaware, had it been one-sided, he would have thrown the omega to the floor, would have mounted in him the middle of the hallway and fucked into him so aggressively, Ciel would have bled out in a matter of seconds. And if by some miracle he didn’t die of his injuries first, the complete pilfering of his life force would have done the job. He’d have to drag him to Sister Francis’ office if this were the case. Ciel would have a fighting chance there.

Sebastian fought the side of him that desperately wanted this, tried to will his growing erection away, enamored by the thought of seeing Ciel broken and depleted. The longer he spent time in the omega’s company, the more the compulsion to ravage Ciel lessened; but it was still there nonetheless.

“Did I miss anything in class?” Sebastian asked, fully aware that some students were eavesdropping on their conversation. They likely wanted to follow him, know where he was going to help them get off again. Recalling that he and Ciel had occupied a small space just last week, he looked at them over his shoulder and whispered, “The janitor’s closet on the second floor is free right now, and the scent is mouthwatering, try that one.”

They went off willingly, and as soon as he and Ciel got to Druitt’s classroom, the demon pushed Ciel inside while no other soul was in the hall and locked the door behind them, using the hook at the top of the door.

Ciel turned on his heel and invaded the incubus’ space; his intent was clear: push the demon against the door, have him finish what he started. Sebastian could see the tiny hairs stand at attention on Ciel’s exposed skin. The demon grabbed his wrists, holding them firmly before Ciel could wrap his arms around his neck and he pinned them at the boy’s sides.

“Are you hard of hearing, omega? I said, no touching,” he growled, already riled, knowing the use of Ciel’s dynamic would snap him out of his current state. But the room hadn’t been sufficiently aired out, and all those pheromones and stubborn balmy stenches clung to everything. Sebastian nodded towards the windows and they blew open, allowing a cold gust to cleanse the air and replace it with the subtle smell of fall.

Ciel shook his head, blinked surreptitiously, and yanked his hands away from Sebastian, “Thank you,” he said begrudgingly and flustered. A patch of pink coloured his neck and ears poking through his hair and he turned his attention to just above the teacher’s desk. “Okay, how are we going to do this?”

Sebastian stepped forward, his hand gently pushing the omega aside. He heard the soft whistle of Ciel's breath break through his lips at his touch and smiled wickedly. Finally, he had unsettled the little thing.

The ceiling tile moved of its own accord and Sebastian stepped back, waiting for the corpse to come crashing to the floor. He intended to set it on fire, it would require a singular blue flame to devour the carcass, then to pour the pedophile's ashes out the window into the garden of carnivorous plants just outside.

But the body never fell.

“Do you even have the right tile?” Ciel snapped impatiently, coming closer and squinting to see into the darkness where the body was stored.

“I'm positive I do, but why don't you have a look,” Sebastian countered petulantly, his shadowy coils lifting the small boy to the opening and tossing him in. Muttered curses and protests echoed within the gap that separated the ceiling and the floor above. He definitely made out a how dare you, a lobcocked whore and several hate you’s.

Ciel’s face poked out seconds later, his beautiful, soft features twisted in a scowl as he stared daggers at the incubus. “Is this necessary?” he spat.

The incubus ignored the question and asked, “Do you see him up there anywhere?” He knew by Ciel’s cool demeanour that the teacher wasn’t where they’d left him. Surely revulsion would have soured the omega’s scent, and Druitt’s rot would have been detectable the moment they walked into the classroom. Where had it gone? Who had moved it? Francis? He was sure the teacher had been dead when he’d been stuffed in there.

“He’s not here. Where the fuck is he, Sebastian?” Not asking to be assisted in his descent, Ciel turned around and lowered himself feet first. He felt the demon’s arms tighten around his thighs and let himself go. Of course the incubus could have easily manipulated whatever energy he used to ease him down without touching him, but between Sebastian throwing him up there and the incubus’ hands sliding along his legs, ass and back, keeping him pressed as closely as possible to his own thrumming body as he put him onto the desk he’d climbed upon, he knew he was being teased.

Sebastian jumped off the desk and offered his hand to the boy. “I… I don’t know.”

Ciel rejected Sebastian’s outstretched hand. “What do you mean you don’t know? Who removes a bloodied one-hundred and ninety pound body from a ceiling and leaves a school full of students with it unnoticed?”

Someone supernatural, Sebastian thought. If the head Sister was indeed not human, she would have to be at least at his level to conceal that fact. Sieglinde definitely was, and this was the kind of prank she would play on him as revenge for all those years she had to listen to him enjoying food in his bedroom… with the individual who brought it to him… or at the dining room table with the wait staff… lavatory and cleaning staff… front yard and gardener… tutoring session, with the tutor… Surely she could see they weren’t matched in their offenses, this was worse by far. “I don’t know,” he repeated, less hesitant this time. A readied lie; he didn't want to verbalize his speculations without knowing for sure who was behind it.

“Do you know anything at all? Are you fucking with me right now?” Venom dripped from every word as Ciel sat on the teacher's desk, accidentally knocking over the mug that read ‘World's Best Teacher’.

Sebastian caught the cup before it crashed to the floor, coming up uncomfortably close to his master by spreading his legs apart and standing between them. “I wish I were precious, I’d much rather be fucking with you, as it were,” Sebastian joked, trying to lighten the mood. Ciel bunched the incubus’ shirt, swallowed hard then pushed him back. “It’s not a big deal, really. I unfortunately know Druitt’s scent, I’ll be able to pick up on it.”

“Are you picking up on it now?” Ciel asked pointedly, jumping off the desk and heading towards the door. “Wait, don’t answer, I can read your face like a book… a boring book. A boring book you get assigned by an English teacher… an English teacher with terrible taste that you don’t like.”

Seeing where Ciel was headed, Sebastian unfastened the hook at the top of the door and followed him out into the hallway. He wondered if what Ciel said was true, about the reading part… He opened his palm, breathed hot air into it, rubbed it against the grainy texture of his trousers and looked at it anew. His reflection stared back at him, blinking. His mirrored expression was not his usual cocky one. Sure, he wore the same mussed up black hair, same sharp cheekbones and aristocratic upturned nose, but the usual fire that lit his crimson eyes had dimmed somewhat and the warmth and glow of his skin had become ashen. Apprehension and disquiet had fizzled any sign of confidence in his physical appearance.

Was this what had Ciel in such a mood? He was being more disagreeable than usual. The demon lingered a step or two behind his master, tasting his aura with his filaments, not being able to detect panic or stress in his scent. It was frustration that had him on edge.

Ciel's skin itched, felt drawn too tight over his lithe body. He was a walking grenade ready to explode, a livewire crackling and agitated with restless energy. His fingers spasmed repeatedly, longing to touch, grab, grope and he was sure that his nuts were about to fall off at any second.

He was irritated. Snappy. Fuckstrated. He'd heard lots of kids at school talk about it, mostly alphas, but he'd never experienced it until now. In fact, his dick was obsessing so much over his current state that it made him feel reckless… like this fiasco with Druitt didn't even matter. Who cares if the body was found and he got thrown into jail, as long as he could wrap his fist around his throbbing cock and relieve himself of its pressure.

They walked past a washroom and Ciel skidded to a stop. “I need to go here; be a good boyfriend and keep watch for me, won't you?” It irritated him that he would have to take care of his problem on his own, when Sebastian was the one to have cause it, but he really didn't feel charitable enough to feed the sex glutton more than he already had. If he had to hear “don't touch me” one more time, he’d lose it. Who the hell did the incubus think he was ordering his master around like that?

Ciel disappeared behind the bathroom door and left Sebastian in the hall before he was given the chance to respond. He kicked the stalls open one by one by one by one, making sure nobody was occupying them. He was hot, excited to the point of annoyance and discomfort. His shirt was yanked from within his waistband, and he fumbled with his belt.

“Wait. Wait…” he told his reflection reproachfully in the row of aged mirrors over the sink that were losing their silver facade. He gripped both sides of the porcelain basin to give his hands something else to do besides undressing his bottom half, and tore his sight away from the wide-eyed, flushed face before him. The sink was stained with streaks of dried pink soap, and stray hairs stuck to the white ceramic. “Disgusting.”

The exposed pipes and plumbing followed a similar aesthetic, rusting with time and leakage, while the rubbish bins below them were overflowing with brown paper towel wads. Ciel wondered how many students had come in here for this precise reason. He shuddered, and using his untucked shirt, turned on the faucet so he could cool his heated cheeks. The water wasn’t nearly as refreshing as it should have been, but combining it with fresh air might do the trick.

Walking to the far end of the washroom, he pulled the frosted window up and stuck his face as close to the screen as possible, eyes shut to focus on the relief. Despite the chilled air wafting in, heat still raced through him like a flash fire. “Fuck!” he cursed, long and drawn out, opening his eyes and gazing at the bikes in the racks by the parking lot.

A lumbering man bumped into one of the bikes that was sticking out, and nearly lost his balance. The klutz looked around, as clumsy people were wont to do, to make sure nobody had seen their bout of ineptitude.

Ciel froze and his mouth went dry at what he saw: caked blonde hair, tired, noble features and lavender eyes that were more like empty orbs rather than visual organs.

The omega went pale, actually blanched, felt the colour drain from his skin as he tried to blink the disbelief from his eyes. He slumped against the window, the tiny squares of the screen making imprints on his hands as he pressed against it. “Are you kidding me?” he hissed to himself. “Impossible.”

Having continued on his way, the man was almost out of his line of vision and Ciel rushed to the door, slamming it into Sebastian who waited on the other side.

“That was quick mast--” Sebastian began and was silenced with a passing glare from the omega. He scented no satisfaction coming off the little thing, sensed a heightened frustration, though the quality of it had changed. He could hear Ciel muttering under his breath, a string of expletives punctuating whatever it was he was saying, like a disjointed Morse code that only he himself understood. “Master… what’s wrong?”

Ciel didn’t bother answering. He hadn’t even bothered to try to look presentable as he marched past the trophy case, under a variety of fall-coloured school banners announcing Homecoming, and through a pile of debris made up of gum wrappers, broken pencils and crumpled papers, left behind by a slacking custodian. He pushed the eastern door open and ran down the flight of stairs and towards the bike rack.

Gone. He wasn’t there anymore. Not a single trace of him.

“Smell it! Can’t you smell him? Where did he go?” The omega commanded the demon, who’d finally decided to catch up.

“Who?” Sebastian inquired. There was a faint jealous buzz tingling his extremities, spreading outwards-in. With the Ciel so agitated, frustrated and keyed up, Sebastian wondered if he was nearing his heat. Had he perhaps caught a whiff of his potential mate? He was barely listening to Ciel anymore as the omega gesticulated wildly, pointing at the bikes then at the window where he’d been in the washroom; all Sebastian had on his mind was to get his master as far away from the school as possible. Ciel was his, and he feared he wouldn’t stand a chance against biology; he wasn’t an alpha after all.

“Druitt! I saw him.”

Ciel’s proclamation was definitely a relief~ish to Sebastian. So the omega’s heat wasn’t imminent, but the thought that he was having hallucinations was disconcerting. The demon opened his mouth, breathed in the proximal air of the school’s campus and picked up a trace of Druitt, but it came from where his car was stationed in the full lot. The teacher hadn’t been there since the morning, that much he knew. “No… He’s definitely not around.”

Sebastian pushed the hair away from Ciel’s face and felt his forehead for a sign of fever. He was hot, but the heat resided at the surface rather than from within. So not sick. Still, the day had been a long one for the omega already, and the stress was likely getting to him. “You’re under a lot of pressure, master. You’re going to attract unwanted attention with your distress soon if you don’t keep it together.”

Ciel smacked Sebastian’s hand away and took a step back, glaring, small teeth bared at the demon, “I know what I saw.”

The incubus looked at him sympathetically, offering a deep sigh of understanding and a patronizing nod. Committing evil deeds for a greater good (in this case killing), wasn’t something new to a hellspawn, but the need and ache he felt in his fingers, to pull the boy closer, to comfort him was altogether foreign. He crammed his hands in his pockets, sure the omega wouldn’t appreciate the show of solace with how snappy he was.

Ciel could feel his temper surfacing, his breathing became deeper and was nearing hyperventilation. He couldn’t allow the boiling torrent of angry words to gush unrestrained form his lips and drown the demon -- but god he wanted to. He didn’t like Sebastian regarding him like he was crazy. Omegas. They’re all hysterical and can’t be taken seriously. It’s the flaw they inherit as a dynamic, why they’re too weak to amount to anything on their own, he’d overheard his father tell a group of businessmen at a dinner one night from the grate in the older man’s office. His twin had been granted permission to attend, naturally, and Ciel distinctly remembered feeling ashamed and more than afraid that his brother’s opinion of him would change as a result of these meetings.

By some miracle, Ciel remained quiet, but using the flat of his hands, he shoved Sebastian hard in the chest, trying in vain to assert whatever imaginary authority he had in a society whose only use for him was to keep him barefoot and pregnant.

And if one of those was an impossibility, what did that say of his inherent worth?

The incubus was thrown momentarily off balance, stumbled back a few steps, then regaining his composure and checking their surroundings with a speed much quicker than that of humans, he pushed the little thing up against a tree some twenty feet away, out of sight from open windows and nosy staff and students. “You’re trying my patience, omega. Don’t you value your life?” he growled under his breath, lips caressing the shell of Ciel’s ear.

Ciel squirmed uncomfortably, still locked in Sebastian’s tight grip. The more he writhed, the more the incubus’ hands held firm. “Let me go,” he said through gritted teeth, “we need to find…”

Sebastian’s long leg came between Ciel’s, his knee rubbing gently upwards and eliciting an almost silent whine from the omega. There was a humid heat there, and the space between the boy’s legs widened to better accommodate Sebastian. “Shhhhhhh…” he soothed, pinning the omega’s wrists over his head, pressing his mouth against Ciel’s neck as two freshmen walked by and swooned at their suggestive positions. Ciel’s wiggling lessened as he became more docile and his resistance fell. The incubus even felt the subtle brush of stiffness against his thigh as the boy rolled his hips forward, head falling against Sebastian’s chest. “That’s it's, Precious,” he praised in a purr that resonated deep in his chest. “He’s not here. I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?”

“No, you have nothing to gain from my wrath,” Ciel threatened, speaking into the white cotton of Sebastian’s dress shirt. There wasn’t any acrimony in his tone. His hands were lowered, but not released, and the rush of blood through the fine network of veins was painful.

Sebastian felt the heat of Ciel’s breath through his shirt and his own fangs pressed into his bottom lip. He spoke with difficulty, tongue elongating, voice desperate and as staccato as the boy’s pulse, “Let me… take care of you master, you’ll be more clear-headed to formulate a plan once you’ve been... tended to.”

“How fast can you get us home?” Every one of Ciel’s words were punctuated by the boy’s thumping heart, by short, clipped breaths pushed out by his trembling lips.

The bell rang for next period, and the campus was flooded with witnesses.

Not fast enough, Sebastian snarled internally. His little master had never expressed any desire for him before. Always had to be coerced or guilted into pleasure. He couldn’t speed them to the orphanage as he wanted, and what if Ciel changed his mind part way as they walked home?

He pulled Ciel in the direction of the parking lot, his big hand swallowing the boy’s tiny one. A sooty dusting spread from the tips of the demon’s fingers and traveled upwards under his sleeves, coating the unseen skin.

Too eager he chastised himself, glamouring the exposed flesh so that it appeared normal to all but his master. He wasn’t even that hungry, not for food at least. He still craved Ciel, but coveted his praise instead, wanted to be adored by him, revered like a god. Until now, he’d denied his divine right to rule, had refused servants and slaves, had ignored effigies and laughed at the sacrificial offerings made in his name.

But if Ciel were to… he’d want for nothing more. Could forego legions of sycophants and ill-intentioned followers. The thought only strengthened his resolve to remain off his father’s radar.

Ciel was in his own head as they weaved between cars and trucks and busses, but not his intelligent head, the one that had grown impulsive, the one calling all the shots since Sebastian had straddled him and ground himself against his omegan cock. Why hadn’t he been immune to the incubus’ seduction? Why did he want need the demon? It was humiliating. After all the hoops he’d made Sebastian jump through, he knew the incubus would force him to his knees, make him beg for his devil’s cock. He wouldn’t give him the chance to even bring it up.

He stopped dead in his tracks before a black and neon green motorcycle slanted on its stand. He snapped his wrist out of Sebastian’s hold and climbed onto the back of the seat, his feet dangling as he patted the spot in front of him. “Hurry up, demon. I believe you owe me something.”

With a tilt of his head, Sebastian appraised his little master, lust dilating his pupils and murking the burning crimson of his eyes. When he was sure they would be able to steal away without being seen, he slid Ciel forward on the seat and got on behind him. He didn’t trust the boy to behave, not after all the warnings he’d given him. He didn’t trust himself; what if Ciel wrapped his arms around him? Or his gentle fingers turned aggressive under his shirt, biting into his skin, scratching, pinching? What if his slender thighs squeezed his own and his cock throbbed against him?

Something akin to a whined hum sounded, in sync with the purr of the revving of the engine. He held the omega to his chest and peeled out of the parking lot with a shrill screeching of tires against the asphalt.

Ciel's eyes were screwed shut as they went over the speed bump and when they pulled away from the school property, he hazarded a peek. A flash of blonde strands and hulking gait caught his attention and he followed the figure with his stare until it was but a dot in the distance.

He was stressed. Frustrated. That’s all it was, he told himself. He’s dead. And now more than ever, he needed to forget about Druitt; there was no way he’d let the man destroy him from beyond the proverbial grave. Sebastian was right, there was some kind of explanation. It was possible they’d been so caught up in feeding the incubus as a class, that the demon had done away with him unaware of doing so. Knowing Sebastian, it was going to be something dumb like that.

Sebastian felt Ciel’s heartbeat banging through his back, and the little imp shimmied his ass right into his crotch. Did this kid have a deathwish? Soon enough he would have to explain to him properly, show him what it meant to be on the giving end of an incubus’ pleasure. Make him understand. And after today, he had just the place to do it.

“Quit. Moving. Like. That,” he growled in Ciel’s ear. His hand traced along the omega’s arm to his hand, gripped it and brought it to the boy’s strained erection. Upon touching himself, Ciel rested his head against Sebastian’s shoulder, looking skywards when he moaned. “That’s it, be a good boy, Ciel or you’ll have to get used to doing that to yourself.”

It was the emptiest, shallowest threat that had ever been uttered, but it seemed to work. The incubus’ eyes shifted from the street ahead, to the boy’s pelvis; nearly ran over a damned squirrel when Ciel started rubbing the outline of his own lovely cock and a small wet spot appeared on his grey trousers. He changed gears and took the corner sharply onto Ciel’s street.

He flung his master off the bike upon arriving, and it fell unceremoniously onto a dead shrub. Even in the outdoors, Ciel’s scent was potent, more than it had ever been. Were Sebastian blinded, he would have believed to have been standing at the center of a pomegranate grove at its peak season during a storm. Rain made everything smell better, sweeter, more evocative. He had no doubt if he’d been an alpha, he’d have mated him on the front yard then and there. Instead, he put him over his shoulder and marched them to the front porch.

“Not here, not like this,” Ciel pleaded, hanging upside down with a perfect view of Sebastian’s ass. Nobody had the right to look that good in a uniform; he was sure it had been designed so that it flattered no one and kept them all chaste, at least while at school. “Make it nice again, like how it was this morning…”

Sebastian barked a laugh, slapped Ciel’s bottom in mock discipline. “You’re such a contradiction, little one.”

“It’s not for me,” he mumbled self-consciously. Things had changed significantly since the morning. This morning he’d been selfish for all the wrong reasons: he hadn’t wanted to remember his past, and insodoing, damned the rest of the omegas at New Beginnings to a mediocre existence. He was still selfish, but as he’d rid the world of a plague, he felt entitled to nice things and if he was going to potentially get caught and have to spend however long in prison, he would enjoy it while he could.

“Of course not, young master.”

Ciel turned his head to the side in time to see the grass go from dormant-yellow to fertile-green. Flowers and succulents sprang from the earth like zombies breaking out of death’s slumber. As Sebastian walked away from the house, and towards the backyard, Ciel saw chocolate vines creep along the newly stoned outside walls, providing their home with a non-stop reminder of the incubus as its spicy-sweet scent seeped through the open windows.

“Where are we going?” Ciel asked, as the orphanage got further and further from view.

Sebastian put Ciel onto his feet and turned him towards the forest, keeping his hands on both his shoulders. They stood before what seemed enormous gates of sprawling black-leaved trees and shrubs, heavy with showy, red-orange flowers and juicy fruit. Dense branches locked themselves together, preventing their passage, while the sheer amount of foliage impeded anyone from seeing what lay on the other side. Arils littered the ground, fat and oozing their essence, feeding the newly growing life on the property.

“You’ll see,” Sebastian whispered against Ciel’s ear, causing minuscule bumps to rise at the surface of his skin. With a swipe of the tongue, he tasted the shiver along the omega’s neck and sampled his arousal. Delicious.

He walked around his charge, plucked two fruits from their branches and intonanted something in ancient Greek under his breath. The trees’ limbs came to life, swayed then bowed, and admitted the couple through a narrow passage. Ciel followed him and if he found their access into a forest he’d visited hundreds of times odd, he said nothing.

Physically, the forest had not changed. It still played home to vegetation and critters, held within its midst a shallow cave, a variety of rock formations poking from the earth, mosses and brambles, a small stream and trees whose canopy blocked out the sun in most months. As far as forests went, it was average, except for in September when it was downright majestic. At this point in the year, it was still warm and as the trees had begun to shed their multicoloured leaves, patterns of sunspots through the branches along the ground were captivating, the natural dew that lived among the small plant life glowed, and rather than wilt, the blooms came to life.

It was the mood of the forest that had shifted with the incubus’ ministrations. It now felt like a sacred place, a holy grove conducive to worship, one where sacrifices were made, where blood was spilled, virginities were stripped and gods were venerated.

Ciel slipped seamlessly out of his loafers as he trailed the demon, toed off his socks, and let the soft, damp ground absorb his weight and caress his feet. Next, his tie was left behind him on the path, his trousers soon after that, and by the time Sebastian noticed Ciel lagging, the omega had divested himself of all but his dress shirt and underwear.

“You’re impatient, aren’t you precious?” Sebastian questioned, tilting the boy’s chin up to look down at him. The light caught the sapphire in Ciel’s eyes and reflected the colour beautifully, like shards of crystal breaking into infinite pieces. He wanted to kiss him. Not like before, not his chin, or his neck, not his shoulders, his thighs or his toes, though they were all worthy of it; but more than anything, Sebastian wanted to share breath with Ciel. To swallow his pleasured sighs and growl into his warm mouth when the tips of Ciel's tingling fingers would dig into his scalp.

But he didn't.

Couldn't.

Because he cared and that galled him.

Ciel took one, two steps back, mistaking the look of ardent longing on the incubus’ face for hunger. His calves touched upon a rocky surface, a large slab jutting from the ground, rising up to his thighs, and rear. The demon neared him, invaded his space to deposit the fruit and hoist him upon the altar. Silky smooth moss spread along the stone, softening the area, allowing the omega to get on his knees before Sebastian, to let him break through the flimsy buttons as if they were fastened with a spider’s web.

Ciel’s thoughts were thoroughly scrambled, followed the progression of Sebastian’s fingers along the placket of his shirt, then to his shoulders to push the cotton garment off. It was only then that his barely open eyelids found the incubus’ face. It was hardened in concentration or restraint, angular, its beauty not something purely alpha, but surpassing it in its unnaturalness. Sebastian had let fall his human guise, though only slightly, and he was completely mesmerized by it.

Sebastian’s hands found the omega’s hips, the ridge of his undergarment barely noticeable beneath his massive palms. The way he looked at him, with trust, with need caught the demon off guard. Had the boy forgotten what he was? What he ate? Energy was all well and good, but it was simply a prelude to a feast of flesh and blood and bone.

He must have forgotten. That glint in his eyes, the way he slowly and sensually licked his lips, and slid his fingers down his chest, rising and falling with each embarrassingly heavy breath... Sebastian hid his face in the crook of Ciel’s neck, ran his lips, his cheek, his nose over the sensitive gland there, humming in accompaniment to the omega’s keening whine. “Do you like that, little one?”

It was primal, animalistic, and as Sebastian’s thumbs pushed his undergarments down to his knees, Ciel swallowed, his throat thick and his tongue too heavy to form coherent words, “Mhmm.” He rose his arms to wrap them instinctively around Sebastian’s neck but they were held at his sides by an unseen force.

“Are you offering yourself to me?” the demon crooned, one hand grasping the omega by the neck with enough pressure to be painful, while the other took hold of a ripe pomegranate.

Tips of claws indented the skin at Ciel’s throat as he nodded, eyes under his thick lashes smoldering with lust.

There it was. Consent to consume. To devour. Ciel’s eyes closed, and Sebastian crushed the red globe in his fist. Juices dripped from between his fingers onto his little master, spilling over his face, on his tongue when he stuck it out obediently, the hand Sebastian was holding him with and shoulders. It sluiced down his body in beautiful, perfect rivulets like watered down blood, and as the demon drained another fruit, more of the red substance dribbled down the boy’s wet spine.

Moving his fingers aside where the pulse beat strongest in Ciel’s neck, Sebastian pressed his lips soft but firm against the skin, lapping the sweet nectar, lewdly suckling on the virgin flesh. He kissed down and down, tongue neglecting the sensitive little gland and bit Ciel’s shoulder. Blood blended with the juice and he snarled viciously.

When Ciel’s eyes opened again, black clouds had concealed the sun and made it dark as night in the forest. Fires burst around the altar, their flames licking the stone below him and heating it up. Sebastian’s juice-sticky hands glided down his wet spine and cupped his rear with wide-spread palms after having released his neck. “Demon…” he whimpered, unable to touch himself, “I… I’m… it hurts… I need...”

The desperate little sounds Ciel was making broke Sebastian’s concentration. His vision had taken on its former inhuman sharpness, colours fading at the edges, superfluous when he relied on scent and heat and taste to sate his appetite. He hesitated for a moment, eyes widening with surprise before gleaming fangs descended in a predatory, unrepentant grin. “Release, my poor little lamb?” he acknowledged, sitting the boy back onto the altar, so that his feet dangled dangerously close to the fire in which he himself was standing.

The stone morphed under his musings, taking on the appearance of a giant throne, Ciel its temporary ruler. His arms were brought up by the devil’s dutiful tendrils and held there in place by mossy clumps that had spread along the backrest and were delicate enough to keep the thrashing boy safe. Serpents congregated to the throne like devoted worshipers and held the boy’s feet firmly on the forest floor, spread apart.

Not to be outdone by reptiles, Sebastian fell to his knees before the omega, prostrated like the most pious of believers, and took the boy’s toes in his mouth. If he couldn’t eat him, he would give his body the impression of ravaging this most appealing delicacy. He nipped at Ciel’s ankles, leaving faint red marks around the rounded bony protuberance, marked his shins with scrapes and bruises, unable to curb his incubic eagerness.

Ciel’s skin glistened in the light of the reddish flames, salty-sweet perspiration wept from his pores accumulating in the cradle of his clavicle, his navel, the crease where his pelvis met his inner thighs. His eyes rolled back as Sebastian licked the former, groaning when his tongue laved the essence of his lust. He writhed and squirmed, cock hard and jutting upwards, eager for pitiless heat and brutal tightness. Fat tears fell from his eyes, joined the sweat rolling off his face onto his chest and soft belly.

“Oh master, don’t cry,” the demon soothed, not missing a thing. He’d smelled the saline pour out of Ciel moments ago. His fist made a tourniquet at the base of the omega’s cock and he pumped it languidly, as his freed hand went around Ciel’s back and pushed him forward so that he sat at the edge of the throne.

Ciel purred. Actually purred. He’d never done that before, and he had nowhere to hide, exposed the way he was. The sound pleased the incubus, who picked up the pace. He seemed to be following the cadence of the crackling fire, if that was possible, or maybe it was the other way around. It was hard to discern in the lust-drunk state Ciel found himself. “A-ahhh… Mmmm…”

“That’s it, Master, let me hear you,” Sebastian encouraged, “the louder you are, the more you’ll get.”

Tears flowed freely down Ciel’s face as he moaned, calling out for his incubus, “ Sebastian, please. I want you…”

Want?” the demon teased, mouth poised over Ciel’s cock.

“Neeeeeed,” the boy cried, “I… hah… need you.”

True to his word, Sebastian gave Ciel what he wanted. His mouth found the boy’s head, licking it, caressing it, enveloping it in velvety heat. Ciel fought against his restraints, his hips pushing up, trying to cram himself in the incubus’ mouth. It straddled that fine line that the demon had blurred time and time again in his desire to own the mortal. Ciel was seeking his own pleasure, moving in such a demanding, authoritative way, unlike any omega Sebastian had ever seen; the boy knew what he wanted and he chased it, even at his own peril.

It made the demon want to claim him more. He looked up at the boy’s face: utter rapture as he moved in perfect synchronicity with the incubus’ mouth. It would take only a few seconds, sink his fangs into his neck, make him his. Everyone would see. Everyone would know. But he wasn’t an alpha, and that’s what alphas did. Not demons.

Demons destroyed that which they loved.

“--ease, Sebastian. Just one… maybe two?” Ciel supplicated, still fucking the demon’s mouth.

What had he missed?

“Okay, three. I want three fingers,” the omega begged, changing his mind.

Sebastian pulled up and off Ciel’s cock, holding it against his own lips, smoothing it and smacking it off them, thin stringy strands of pearlescent pre-ejacuate connecting and breaking as he did so. “My greedy boy,” he praised, taking no time finding the tight pucker and spitting onto it. He watched it tighten reflexively and as he put the pad of his finger against it, it twitched excitedly.

Sebastian pushed in his finger and Ciel thought he would die. It hurt so good and he wanted more but he didn’t and his brain wasn’t making sense. Sebastian’s mouth was back on him, a distraction no less, one he appreciated.

“Precious, you’re too tight,” Sebastian muttered around Ciel’s dick, “I won’t be able to get three in there.”

He knew it was a lie the moment he said it. Slick ran from the greedy little hole, moistened the stone beneath his bottom, soaked his plunging finger and stretched the omega out with more ease. He slipped another in, twisting both around rhythmically and Ciel went rigid, his toes curling, scratching against the soil.

The serpents released Ciel’s feet, and he spread them wider. The demon threw them over the arm rests, giving him perfect access, stuffing Ciel with another finger and going in as deep as he could without hurting him too much. Hades, he wished it was his dick he was wetting, wished it was his cockhead the ringed muscles tried to grasp onto, that it was his shaft being squeezed and spasmed around.

“Se… Sebas...tian…” the boy hissed and the flames went out around them, smoking plumes into the sky. It was pitch black and the only thing Ciel made out were the ruby embers glowing in the demon’s sockets as he looked upon his master with unmistakable adoration. The omega’s heels fell off the armrests, dug into Sebastian’s back, the back of his legs rubbing harshly along his shoulders, trying to touch as much of the incubus as possible. He trashed and surged, fucking the heat of the demon’s mouth, screaming, head whipping from side to side. Felt the pressure build up his cock and peak hard, convulsing with each spurt of cum he spilled onto Sebastian’s waiting tongue, mouth and chin. His head fell forward, watching as the demon swallowed and swallowed, licked his lips and his own face, then his fingers. He closed his eyes to catch his breath, but blinked too long.

When Ciel woke it was properly nighttime and he was back in his bed, in his school uniform. His tie and shoes were on his desk and the incubus was sitting on the window ledge looking up at the sky. He watched him the dim light, fascinated by the Greco-Roman perfection of his striking profile, his aquiline nose, strong jaw, high cheeks and full, stupidly handsome lips.

“If you’re drooling now, wait til you see me naked,” Sebastian teased without looking at him. He’d felt the omega’s gaze peering at him as surely as the energy that connected them.

“Do you ever sleep?” Ciel asked, ignoring the comment, his eyes finally taking notice of the vines falling from the canopy overhead and the fragrance of the blooms scattered throughout the room.

Sebastian shrugged, “It’s been a while.” Strictly speaking demons didn’t need sleep, but it was nice to indulge once in a while. The last time he’d attempted it was when he got taken by the guards and ushered to the dungeon.

“Do you want to join me?” Ciel asked, self-consciously, not making eye contact, but scooching over nonetheless. It would be a tight fit, but Sebastian had shown he had no problems in handling that predicament today.

The incubus jumped off the window ledge and stood at the front of the bed, eyebrow arched and arms crossed over his chest. He bit his thumb coyly and smiled at Ciel, “Don’t fall in love with me, kid.”

“Ha! Right,” Ciel laughed, it was an airy, carefree laugh, “I’ll try not to.” He turned and faced the wall, leaving space for Sebastian to slip in.

The incubus accepted Ciel’s offer for the second time in less than twelve hours, stripped himself to his boxers and got behind his master. His arms were folded awkwardly against his own chest, not sure what he was supposed to do with them. Sieglinde had been the only one he’d shared a bed with, but they were children then.

“You can throw one of those baboon arms over me, you know?” Ciel told him, yawning and placing his cold feet against the incubus’ to warm them up.

Sebastian smiled despite himself and obeyed his master. Was this some kind of psychosexual truce forming between them? Could Ciel feel that with each allowance he accorded the demon, the weaker he became? Not physically, not magically of course, but that the carefully crafted wall he’d erected to keep himself apart from others was slowly crumbling. The same weakness had gotten his mother killed at the hands of his father, and for the first time, he did not begrudge her sacrifice because he was beginning to understand.

How could something so commonplace, so trivial as sharing a sleep space bring about such a realization? How could every soft breath emitted by the omega make the incubus regret his comment about falling in love? How did Ciel’s cold feet turned warm by the demon’s doing make him feel accomplished, like he’d done something important for once in his thousand years.

Weak.

But as Ciel mumbled his name in his sleep, Sebastian didn’t care.

The next morning, the mood in the orphanage was jubilant. Everyone had slept well, everyone felt rested. Finny explained to Ciel that police had stopped by and the slate-haired boy’s heart sank. Had they somehow linked him to the teacher’s death and subsequent disappearance?

“Yeah, funny thing is that Cheslock’s motorcycle was reported stolen, and they somehow found it on our lawn; but given that we’re all omegas and none of us is allowed to drive, they just brought it back to him,” the blond omega explained, throwing his book bag over his shoulder and locking the front door behind him.

“Well, that’s good,” Ciel said, relieved it wasn’t anything more serious. He could see Sebastian waiting for them at the corner of the street, leaning against the stop sign. For the second time in so many minutes, his heart sank again. Stop it, he scolded himself, blushing.

The incubus greeted them both, and thanked Finny when the boy gave him a buttered crumpet he’d packed especially for him. He’d explained to Ciel while they were getting ready, that he didn't know how, but he felt Sebastian was responsible for their new residence. He pried no more, and for that, Ciel was grateful.

“So, do we know who put those pictures on your locker yet?” Finny asked taking a drink from his tetrapack.

“What do you mean?” Sebastian questioned, carrying both omegas’ bags over his shoulder.

In his frustration, he’d failed to fill in the demon. “Finny wasn’t the one to tag my locker with those pictures. And if he didn’t share the pictures, that means someone else knows…” His eyes locked with Sebastian’s and suddenly the disappearance of Druitt’s body took on a more sinister intent.

Sebastian effectively changed the topic, making the other omega blush and stammer when he inquired about whom he would like to have ask him to go to Homecoming. Finny gave some names, but Ciel knew none of them were good enough for his friend. He wondered if alphas could undergo a similar metamorphosis as incubi. Maybe then…

When they got to school the two omegas went their separate ways and Sebastian followed his master. They took their seats one in front of the other near the windows and waited quietly while the rest of the class buzzed with gossip.

“I wonder if Druitt’ll be here today…”

“He wasn’t at any of his other classes yesterday…”

“But his car went home at the end of the day…”

“And it’s back now…”

Sebastian and Ciel’s heads whipped towards the windows at the same time and sure enough the teacher’s car was parked in its usual spot. The bell rang then and the door was pushed open, admitting the teacher the omega had bludgeoned to death some twenty-four hours ago.

Chapter Text

Druitt shuffled to his desk, briefcase in the crook of his armpit. He moved the way drunk individuals who don't want to be seen as such move, watching their every step, careful when placing one foot in front of the other. Or maybe he more resembled a toddler, Ciel could definitely see his hands fanned at his side to keep his balance. But he didn't see the teacher long.

Abruptly, Sebastian stood in front of his desk, shielding him from view. It might not have seemed so weird to their peers if it hadn't been for the slight growl that reverberated in the demon's chest and the way his knees bent as he took on a defensive position. It definitely drew some unwanted attention.

“Chill out,” Ciel told him under his breath, running the pads of his fingers down Sebastian's spine, over his school blazer. He felt the resulting shiver and saw the demon's shoulders tense a bit more. He stopped immediately.  

Ciel could say what he wanted, but Sebastian heard the erratic thumping of the omega's heart as clear as if it was a war drum announcing the outset of a new Crusade. The incubus inhaled deeply through his nose, waiting for it to wrinkle reflexively as he caught Druitt’s scent. He didn’t. It was both a blessing and a cause for concern because the alpha used to have a very distinct, cloying jasmine scent; and it’s not that the pheromone had changed per se, but that it had vanished altogether. That explained how Ciel had seen the dead man, and how he had missed the smell of him completely. Damn it.

The demon looked to his right, making mental calculations of how he would need to fall with the omega in his arms once he broke through the window with Ciel cradled to his chest. As long as he absorbed the blow, Ciel should be alright.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ciel warned the incubus, seeing Sebastian’s head swivel from the outdoors to Druitt to the outdoors again. “Now, sit down. If we’re going to figure this shit out, we need to hang around.”

For once, Sebastian wasn’t openly insolent and Ciel didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Druitt hadn’t come in guns blazing, accusing him of murder, and that in and of itself made him curious as to what the alpha’s motives were. Sebastian took his seat in front of Ciel, ramrod straight, looking ready to pounce if necessary.

The teacher did not remove his jacket as was his habit, did not flirt with the shy omegas who sat up front, and did not regale them with some cock and bull story about who he found and took home last night. His hair had lost its golden lustre and hung limply from his scalp. His eyes were sunken, ringed with dark purplish circles. He looked in need of a good night’s sleep, or five. For all intents and purposes, he was not dead, but he could have been.

Ciel was not the only one to notice the changes, the classroom was quieter than it had ever been, which only made the sound of Druitt’s nails on the chalkboard that much louder. Twenty-four sets of hands shot up to their ears, even Sebastian’s, albeit belatedly. The students winced, while others squirmed, but they all had their eyes glued to the front of the class, mouthing the words that were being etched onto the board.

Ciel Phantomhive is a whore.                  Ciel Phantomhive is a whore.                          Ciel Phantomhive is a whore. 

               Ciel Phantomhive is a whore.                  Ciel Phantomhive is a whore.                          Ciel Phantomhive is a who--                 

                                                    

The shrill screech of keratin on slate took on an almost rhythmic cadence. The students began to sway where they stood, and slowly, their hands were lowered as though by an invisible force. They looked entranced as they made their way to the periphery of the room.

Sebastian intercepted Ciel, not allowing him to move closer towards the windows. His big blue eyes were coming in and out of focus, like he was actively fighting the stupor.

“That’s it, Precious, resist it,” Sebastian crooned slowly, lowering himself so that his face was inches from the omega’s. Ciel seemed to read his lips and nodded. He clutched the boy to his body, tucking him near his armpit so that he could drown out the cataleptic sound by hugging Ciel’s head.

With the sound drowned out, all Ciel could focus on was the demon, how tightly he held him, how his heartbeat was slow and even and soothing, but most of all, how he smelled: no alpha mask, no false scent to lure him in, just Sebastian. He didn’t smell like anything tangible, that would be too easy for one such as the incubus. Sebastian smelled like a feeling. Like a rush of unexpected bliss that comes after requited first love. Not that Ciel would know.

When the students made it to the walls and windows, one of two things happened: the alphas were knocked unconscious to the floor, while the omegas were hoisted up by thinly webbed nooses that dropped from the ceiling tiles. They didn’t even struggle, they just hung there listlessly, eyes open, mouths gaping and toes pointed downwards.

Sebastian could make out Ciel’s whimpers just under the grating sound and the eerie, wet, gurgling cackle falling from Druitt’s mouth. He was expecting fear to mask his omega’s scent, but it was something else, something he couldn’t quite understand. He was absorbed by it, Ciel was one mystery after another; he never reacted the way Sebastian thought he should.

The lights that had been on a moment ago, flickered, and the hanging bodies convulsed in time with them, like they were being electrocuted. Ciel tugged on Sebastian’s shirt, stomped on the incubus’ foot to get his attention.

“Save them!”

Reflexively, the demon took his sneaker off and nailed the teacher in the back of the head with his size thirteens. The man’s head lurched forward, smacked the board hard, but otherwise did nothing to sway his progress of writing lines or of breaking whatever hold he had on the class.

“He’s… not human anymore. He’s not even alive,” he told Ciel, leading him towards the exit. On the walls, the omegas’ faces were turning a pretty mauvish colour, but Sebastian didn’t point it out, doubting his master would appreciate the aesthetic. He had one responsibility and it wasn’t to Irene or Paula or any of the other petty things gasping for breath with unseeing eyes. Even dead, Druitt was still an alpha, so this fell under the umbrella of their contract. “Come, we need to go. Leave them to their fate.”

Ciel struggled to get out of Sebastian’s grip, banged his fists against the devil’s chest and made himself lead to root himself to the spot. “We can’t!” he cried over the din.

“They’d leave you!” Sebastian shouted back, hoping everyone in the room heard. Some of the alphas groaned, trying to communicate, some of the omegas’ eyes swam with tears that spilled over and onto the floor. “They have left you in the past! With him! Over and over, haven't they? This is just retribution. It’s what they deserve.”

Sebastian could see it in Ciel’s face. Confusion. Uncertainty. Thin eyebrows mashed together as he weighed the truth of the incubus’ words.

Ciel knew the devil was right, but he was already so guilt-ridden, already had a hard time sleeping at night and looking himself in the mirror. That shade of purplish blue on the face of his peers was an exact replica of his twin’s complexion the last time he saw him, when he’d thrown himself in Ciel’s place to take the impact of the oncoming vehicle.

It was almost as if Druitt knew. Like he’d seen into his head and pulled out one of Ciel’s most haunting thoughts. He’d been too young to know better then, couldn’t have foreseen what happened the night he’d snuck out after having been held captive by his own family. Now he had no excuse and no other way to make amends.

“Save them.”

Nobody deserved to be in the presence of Ciel Phantomhive, the demon decided; not his peers, not the teacher and least of all himself. The omega was selfless to a fault. A rarity… not some diamond in the rough, there were plenty of those; Ciel was a painite, red diamond, the rarest of all gemstones, reflecting the colour and scent of  malum punicum, like no one the incubus had ever encountered before.

Finally, Druitt brought his hand down from the board, the tips of his fingers lacking nails, dripping a marooned substance. Blood. “It’s time to come home,” the voice not belonging to the teacher croaked in a foreign tongue from somewhere that sounded much farther than Druitt’s body. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Fuck. Sebastian paled.

He snapped his fingers, and a blue blaze like lightning shot out of the classroom floor, licking and devouring the teacher before he even had time to react. The fire alarm went off and the overhead sprinklers were activated, causing the children to rouse from their somnolence, and careened them towards the floor, but did not put out the flame. It crackled and spit, lashed out and clawed at the room’s occupants, then emitted a foul, heavy black smoke.

Still shielding his omega, Sebastian neared the sooty vapour and blew it out as if it were a single, solitary candle on a birthday cake. Dark prismed ashes were piled half a foot tall where the fire had claimed its pedophilic victim and scattered the moment the windows were blown open.

The student alphas stood, shaking their heads, confused by how they'd gotten to the now wet floor. They made their way to the hall, filing one after the other with the omegas to take part in what they assumed was a fire drill. Bard was last, read the words on the board to himself and chuckled. He blew an uncharacteristic kiss to Ciel and left.

Ciel heard the school population exiting the building, and in the distance, various sirens grew louder, the nearer they came. Next to him, Sebastian slumped, knees weak, and the omega steadied him against the teacher's desk. The demon’s complexion went pallid, like he’d been sapped of his strength and rendered defenseless. He breathed hard through his mouth, hissing as the air was expelled from his lungs.  

Ciel’s mouth went dry and he chewed his lip as he rounded the desk, held the devil’s face in his hands, and angled it towards himself so Sebastian paid attention when he spoke. “Hey! Are you okay?”

From under his absurdly long lashes, the incubus’ eyes glowed crimson, his irises, vertical slits of absolute darkness. His human facade was worse for wear, revealing a delicate, webbed network of soot ran from his eyes down his face as if he’d cried while wearing mascara. “That felt good,” he smiled, tiny fangs poking out more than usual, “I’m so out of practice.”

The omega swallowed, examined the burned spot on the floor that was all that was left of Druitt. He released Sebastian’s face, and took a tentative step back, until he was flush with the blood-encrusted chalkboard. “Is… Is that what you’ll do to me? If you lose control?”

The scent of apprehension spread over Ciel’s skin, spiked through the aroma of his natural mouthwatering pheromones. He smelled smaller, as if the tang of fear diminished him. Instinct caused Sebastian to pounce on the omega, his prey, the object of every single one of his desires. He pinned him against the board that declared him a whore and as he stuffed his nose by the seeping little gland at Ciel’s neck and panted hot and damp towards his ear, concerned disgust overrode a millennia’s worth of conditioning. Fear did not suit his master, didn’t make him more appetizing, but he would not lie to the boy either. “No. It’s not a matter of losing control, it’s a matter of giving you all the control, Ciel. If such a thing were to happen, you would beg for an end like Druitt. What I could do to you is a thousand times worse than what you witnessed today.”

As expected, the truth did not make things better; it seldom did. He couldn’t adequately describe to Ciel what it was incubi did to their victims, he couldn’t do it justice, even after all the times it had occurred. There weren’t enough words in all the languages he knew that could sufficiently communicate the screaming and pleading, the gore, the fleeting vital force and short-lived satisfaction… The thought of it, coupled with the image of Ciel torn open that way waged a war inside him. On one hand the craving, the need... on the other… a fondness?

“I think it’s time I show you,” he told Ciel, pulling away from him, now that his demonic aspects had been reigned in somewhat, “come.”

Sebastian took him by the hand as if nothing had transpired, as if he hadn’t just regarded him like he was the tastiest slab of meat he’d ever laid eyes on. Uselessly, Ciel covered his own head with his hand, but it did little to shield him from the non-stop spray of water from above. “N-now? You don’t have to. We should evacuate the school, they’ll be taking attendance outside at the designated meeting locations…”

Sebastian led the boy to the empty stairwell and his bark of a laugh echoed, while his one sneaker sloshed and squeaked against the wet hallway floor. “Who will? Your teacher? The pile of ashes that took flight outside? Come on. This is the perfect time. She’ll be out there too, won’t she?”

“Who?”

They came to an ominous stop in front of a heavy oak door, to which Sebastian nodded, “Sister Francis. I’m sure she won’t mind us using her office.”

The incubus held his hand over the knob, not quite touching it, and the chill that radiated from his palm caused the lock to click and the door to slide silently inward. He strode into the office as if he owned it, Ciel hot on his heels.

“Are you crazy?” the boy hissed, grabbing the demon’s arm and pulling him back.

Even through his clothes, Ciel’s touch felt as scorching as the hellfire that had consumed the teacher. Sebastian closed his eyes and let the creeping shudder that ensued rock his tall frame. “Ah ah ah, little omega,” he tsked, reluctantly removing the boy’s hand from his person, “hands off, you can touch all you want in a few minutes.”

“We can’t stay here. What if Sister Francis comes back? You don’t know what she’s capable of doing, Sebastian. I’ve heard… rumours. You especially shouldn’t be here.”

Of course Ciel had never been on the receiving end of the nun’s wrath. He was too good. Too pure. Sebastian carried on nonetheless, ignoring the warnings. “I know what she can do. And I know what she’s hiding,” he explained, slamming the office door shut and locking it with a flick of his wrist, then pushing aside the bookshelf that concealed the entrance to her dungeon. “After you,” he said, ever the gentleman.

Ciel gaped; his curiosity led his feet forward and down the steep stone steps. His fingers brushed along the cool, damp wall for support, but it was the incubus's hand at the small of his back that reassured him. Sconces lit on their own accord the further down they went. Their dancing flames threw odd shadows on the wall, specifically Sebastian’s which took on a more monstrous, angular appearance, exaggerating the length of his razored teeth and claws  and doubling his size.

The deep colour of purple was the first thing Ciel registered when he reached the bottom. It was everywhere: draped over walls, on the furniture, made up the blotches that stained the concrete floor and was reflected in the mirrors overhead. To the right, a large bed with its posts severely distressed, notches dug into them at various heights so that the dark oak veneer was all but non-existent. There were ottomans scattered about, and a chair to the left adored with clasps at the arms and legs and head, that resembled the kind you would use for an execution, or at least to inflict a fair amount of pain.

Ciel’s eyes darted around the room, not wanting to stare at any one point too long, not wanting to picture the severe looking nun engaged in any of these pursuits, much less with his incubus --- er, the incubus. He needed something safe to look at, so that he could concentrate on forming an objection, finding the right words to communicate his flummoxed state.

He turned towards the stairs, “Sebastian, I…” but the demon wasn’t there.

“Just give me a sec,” Sebastian advised him, letting his damp shirt and blazer fall to the floor as he secured the straps to the brown leather harness he wore that criss-crossed over his chest.

This was not the safe view Ciel had in mind. He brought both hands to his eyes to shield them, and spun ninety degrees. He exhaled loudly, both exasperated and awed by the collection of accoutrements hanging on the wall, ranging from cuffs to ropes to cable ties. There were floggers, whips, knives of all sorts, riding crops, paddles (some even embedded with spikes); and that’s just the stuff he could name.

Ciel’s lashes swept his warm cheeks as he steadied the pace of his heart, trying to keep his nervous scent from sweetening out of sheer morbid interest. “Sebastian, put your clothes back on and let’s go.”

Fingers clad in soft, but strong fabric, to prevent the beast’s claws from tearing their way out, pet the back of Ciel’s hand and breath tickled the tiny hairs at his ears.

“Don’t you want to see, master?”

He did. He really, really did. He wasn’t even sure what it was Sebastian wanted to show him, but he was ready for it. His body was ready for it, was thrumming with excitement and arousal. Ciel opened his eyes, saw the glove that held his hand first, then carefully, slowly, shifted his gaze upwards, tracing the outline of the harness with his eyes, to where it split at the devil's sternum.

“That’s more like it,” Ciel heard Sebastian praise when he no doubt detected the omega’s lust desecrating the air they shared. The voice came from behind a muzzle, the kind only dangerous beasts wore strapped over their heads, below the ears and towards the back. Through the strips of leather, Ciel could see an arrogant smile; it touched the demon’s eyes and made them glow with amusement and carnality.

The omega was speechless, and were his scent not so potently fetching, Sebastian might have backed off a bit. “Come help me, precious. I could do this part myself, but giving you the control you crave will only make this better.”

“I don’t…”

“Yes, you do,” Sebastian interrupted walking to the only wall in the dungeon without lavish embellishments. It was a simple surface made of brick, sanctified two worn, wooden crosses at either side. Manacles hung from the ceiling and shackles from the floor. He tied his left hand in the corresponding cuff, facing his master and beckoned Ciel and a nearby ladder to his side with a flourish of his free hand. “All your life you’ve ached for it, sought to fill the void with guilt and loneliness. How long have you felt cold inside, little one?  Did you die that day, along with your other half?”

“You don’t know anything,” Ciel spat, glaring glacially at the demon, eyeing a row of particularly sharp daggers some paces away. Which would be the most effective? Which would cause the most pain? “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Sebastian followed the boy’s gaze and made the choice for him. Dark filaments did their master’s bidding as they wrested a kalis from its position between a cinquedea and a Scottish dirk and deposited it at Ciel’s feet. “There’s the fire I love! The only time you feel alive is when you are in control, omega. Remember how it felt to bludgeon that savage? Remember how it felt to demand better lodgings from your incubus? How it felt to make the conscious decision to offer yourself to him?”

“You’re referring to yourself in the third person now?” Ciel scoffed, considering the long, wavy blade.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Sebastian prompted, but the omega remained quiet. “Make your decision. Will you bleed me? If you chose to do so, I won’t fight back. Or will you assist me, and let me show you the risk you run taking control of your slave?”   

Never taking his eyes off his muzzled devil, Ciel crouched to pick up the dagger. He weighed the weapon in his hand, got a feel for the way it sliced through the air and stood before the incubus, tip pressing into the skin just above his navel; it moved in time with the rise and fall of the demon’s abdomen as he breathed. He wasn’t expecting Sebastian to move against it, to let the knife superficially pierce his flesh, so that blood wept in the shape of tears down his flexing belly. “Tie yourself up,” he grumbled, “That’s an order, Sebastian.”

The demon bowed his head, “Yes, master,” and noisy shackles snaked around his slacks at the ankles some three feet from the wall, as did a thick metal hook about his harness, while the other cuff strapped itself to his free wrist. Sebastian gave an experimental pull on each restraint and hummed in satisfaction when he could detect no weakness in them.

“If you really want out, will that actually hold something like you? And what about your tendrils? I mean, I saw you roast and make dust of someone…”  Ciel trailed off doubtfully, toeing the shackle tied to Sebastian’s leg with his own shoe.

At his master’s touch, an excited rumble of a growl emanated from Sebastian’s throat. “Absolutely. Everything in this room is hallowed, precious. I can’t hurt you here, like this. Once fettered, I can’t break out. You will have to release me.”

“If I feel like it,” Ciel mumbled. It crossed his mind to leave him here for Sister Francis after the jab about his brother. “So what now, incubus? Do I have to say some magic words? Do a little dance? Offer you some blood?”

“Mmm… No to the first, unless you want to whisper your deepest desires in my ear, yes to the second, if you do it the way I showed you in class and please to the third, I'll gladly accept any essence you have to offer.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind, you know that?” And for once, Ciel wasn’t really bothered by it. The devil looked good like this, bound with his hands up, stretching the lean planes of his torso, exposing the sharp cut of his Adonis Belt that disappeared in a V-line into the trousers that hung dangerously low on his hips. The omega wet his lips as jolts of longing that felt like aftershocks raced to the tips of his fingers.

“Touch me, Master,” Sebastian smirked, his mouth semi-concealed from his prey, “preferably not with your kalis.” He took a step towards the boy, dragging the clanking chain behind his foot, until he could go no more. He would have extended a hand towards the boys had they not been bound.

Gripping his dagger in his dominant hand, just in case, Ciel immediately slid his fingers along the demon’s perfect, alabaster flesh. The incubus was so firm, strong, rippling with what reassembled swimmer’s muscles. He stroked his belly, watched his blunt little nails rake over the dips and bulges of his abs, until he reached his chest and fingered the small metal hoop at the devil’s nipple and toying with it between thumb and forefinger just to be a bastard. The skin covering the demon’s pecks grew tense, quivered, then expanded as he began making broken, panting sounds.

Sebastian thought it would have taken more, that Ciel would have had to at least put his mouth on him or something. But no, his exploring fingers were enough. Between his thighs, his cock throbbed, grew unbearably hard, tenting his slacks until it was painful. Don't think about it, he chided himself, think of home… think of the throne… think about sitting on it for weeks, years, centuries… about Ciel on his knees before it, looking up with those eyes, that clever little tongue of his lapping at… Hades in Hell! What was he doing to himself?  He blew out a shaky breath, craned his head back and saw his reflection staring back at him from the mirror set on the ceiling, eyes blacked out like volcanic glass, sharp-tooth smile turning slightly lupine.

He fought against it, was suddenly willing the thick, black horns that spiraled back from his brow to recede, to not put his master off. And then Ciel had to take the silvered hoop between his teeth, give it a teasing tug, and allow the apex of his tongue to brush against the incubus’ over sensitive nipple.

Sebastian’s head snapped forward, he hissed and spat and snarled, sent Ciel crashing to the floor on his rear. The demon’s body thrashed against his restraints, his fangs elongating past the leather muzzle strips, as he lurched predatorily for his prey.

“Let me fuck you! Tear you apart! Eat the meat off your bones as I pound into you. Delicious Ciel… so pretty when you cry… you'll cry and scream. Come here!”

The sound of throaty, menacing growls and threats bounced off the walls in cacophonous echoes. For the second time that day Ciel held his hands over his ears, wincing. He watched in amazement as a darkness consumed Sebastian’s pale skin, leaving it scorched black in its wake. The demon's elbows shot back, like a gunslinger arming himself, and spurs broke through them, and at his shoulders too. If that weren’t enough, Sebastian’s stature grew, matching the shadow that had followed them down the stairs.

Ciel watched, motionless except for his panting breath and thudding heart. The harness dug into Sebastian’s chest, leaving marks upon his skin, the shackles chafed the school-regulated trousers and the cuffs cut into his gloves as they rode up his hand to accommodate the claws at the tips of them. No matter how much the incubus struggled, no matter how badly he wanted it, he could not free himself.

Coming to his feet, Ciel approached the beast, one hand out and the other secured on his dagger. “Shhh… it’s okay,” he crooned and a sweet-tart, comforting scent permeated from his pores; he wasn’t scared, not really, he’d only been taken by surprise.

Sebastian’s nostrils flared, his teeth still gnashing and fully bared for the omega. His body jerked, twisting the chains.

“If you stop moving like that, I’ll touch you again,” Ciel bargained, “you do want me to touch you, don’t you?”

The devil whined, desperate for it. He’d never known the intimate touch of any being before, had always cut to the chase, fucked and devoured his victims the moment an opportunity presented itself. He’d heard of  foreplay, of  delaying gratification, but he’d never known it. Now that he was experiencing it, he was starved for it, and would trade anything in exchange for his master’s teasing fingers on him again.

Ciel waited, gave the incubus a minute to calm himself. At first, he thought his words had slipped in one ear and out the other, but Sebastian’s struggling lessened, he was rigid where he stood, all tension as he clamped his mouth shut and breathed unevenly through his nose. “That’s my demon,” he praised, gently placing his hand on his stomach and spreading his fingers.

Sebastian bowed his head, looking at his small master with a mixture of gratitude and a still unmistakable urge to want to impale him on his cock and fuck him until he was nothing but a lifeless mess. Ciel must have seen it in his pitch black orbs, because he shook his head and scolded him.

“Don’t look at me like that Sebastian.”

A defiant growl rumbled in his chest, and when he spoke, it was from between clenched teeth. “Then avert your eyes if you don’t want to see it, little one. In fact, turn around so I can... so I can stick myself inside you and make you beg me to stop.”

The contact with his flesh was short lived as Ciel grasped the harness and gave it a rough yank. The omega barely came up to his chest now, but it hardly mattered with the innate power and control he wielded. “You don’t get to fuck me until you show me some respect and restraint is that understood, incubus?”

The demon growled his assent, stilled again and hissed, “Yessss master.”

Ciel would never tell Sebastian, but he felt pride warm his insides; for himself for having been able to command such a feral beast, and for the devil, who had so many opportunities in the past to have slain him, but for some reason, did not. As his hand slid lower and lower with the incubus’ compliance, he wondered what reasons Sebastian could have to want to keep him alive.

Sebastian’s eyes were glued to the boy’s hand, and when it reached the waist of his slacks he gave a keening wail. “Please… Ciel…”

The omega didn’t answer. He thumbed the waistband around Sebastian’s hips and as he neared the front, it was hotter, humid. Ignoring all the warning signs that had been forced in his face these past minutes, his hand plunged inside. Ciel laughed, “No underwear? You go to school commando?”

Sebastian's body thrust forward with eager determination, Ciel’s dagger clattered to the floor and the chains rattled overhead. The demon's eyes widened, pitiless orbs like a starless night as the omega tore open his button and fly and unpacked his stiff cock.

Ciel's hand ran over the vicious, slick length and made a fist around the base. No knot, he noticed sadly, but did not remain disappointed for long. Sebastian's dick was better than an alpha's in other ways: it was thicker, he couldn't even wrap his small hand around it, the shaft was abundantly veined so that it looked ridged, and the head, sleek, curved and pulsing just above where he held the demon, was oozing black, viscous pearls from the slit.

“Does this feel good?” Ciel asked, knowing the answer. The demon said something incomprehensible. “I asked you, does this feel good?”

In answer, the shackles sounded when the distance between Sebastian's legs widened. Sebastian didn't trust to open his mouth, he didn't know what words would come tumbling out, so he nodded.

“Alright. How about this?” Ciel moved his hand up and down the veiny shaft, making a loose fist. He pumped it a little faster, as his agile thumb slid up, smoothed around the crown, finding and spreading the essence that seeped out of him.

Sebastian held back a cry and bucked into Ciel's hand, hips thrusting forward and back of their own volition.

Ciel pulled the shaft down almost like a lever, stretching him level, saw the demon press his lips tight as he gave the cock long, tight strokes. His omegan arousal rose like heat in the air, this time musky, but still sweet, still the most appallingly delicious scent to have tempted the devil.

Sebastian moaned. Gut-level and feral. Humping and fucking the omega's hand, dirtying it, and his trousers as pitch black precum poured down his slippery, glistening dick in globs. He swore over and over as the sound of wetness deafened him, lewd and loud and resounding in the enclosed place, picturing his cock disappearing into Ciel, being eaten up by his slick heat. He wanted the boy crying, but not in pain… in ecstatic pleasure.

Ciel made his own needy noises, unable to keep them at bay, but aware of the time they'd been down here. They couldn't linger any longer, but he couldn't stop either. He jerked Sebastian off with fixed, ferocious intensity, precum flinging off the length as his hand cramped up from his tight grip as he tried to match Sebastian’s thrusts with an equally reciprocating counter-pressure.

Sebastian bucked wildly, frothing at the mouth, growling like a rabid animal and almost missed it, the soft quiet permission given by his most gracious master, “Come on my face, Sebastian. Give me your claim.”

A flood of heat undulated in the demon's belly, propelling it forcefully, seeking release. His hands wrapped around the chains above and as Ciel let go of his cock and it came up, he found his first climax with a live, fully willing being. He convulsed, painting Ciel's saintly face, savoring every strand that spilled, every drop that marked the boy.  Shivering spasms shook his body as he calmed and regained enough composure to appreciate the sight before him: tiny, little omega, breathing hard, standing proud with a smirk on his face and his servant's black cum dripping from it.

“Well done, master,” he panted, “I don't think that's ever been done before. Untie me so that I may clean you.”

Ciel raised a brow, assessing how perilous the incubus was. His demonic features had all but receded, save for his fangs and the hint of darkness that clung to his skin. “Okay.”

Using the ladder, Ciel liberated his beast from the manacles, and though Sebastian could have done the shackles himself, he preferred watching the boy do it. He couldn’t help the affection that radiated from him towards his charge and more than once, wanted to caress the slate hair atop the omega’s hair, to shower him with praise and gifts, the likes Ciel had never experienced.

But he knew Ciel. And he knew not to push him.

“Okay, about my face,” Ciel started, standing back up and wiping the ejaculate from his jaw as it dripped onto his uniform.

“Allow me,” Sebastian whispered hoarsely, holding Ciel’s face tenderly in his large hands.  A long tongue slithered from between his still elongated teeth and peeked through the leather strips to lap at the omega’s face. The boy giggled and squirmed, but didn’t try to get away. When he got used to the feeling, he just closed his eyes, tilted his head up and let himself be bathed by the incubus.

Sebastian hummed as he tasted himself on his master. While such a ritual was one usually done out of age-old necessity, today, the demon reveled in it, took his time, and even tongued the areas that had never been touched. When it had taken longer than it should have, he pulled away, “There. As good as before.”

“Even better,” Ciel muttered, turning away and heading for the stairs. He made a stop at the wall of tools to hang his dagger back up and pocketed a short, leather leash. “Tidy up, but leave the muzzle and stuff on.”

After having done what he was ordered, the incubus threw his shirt back on and wore the harness over top. He followed the boy to the top of the stairs and when Ciel stopped, he thought it was to listen, to make sure Sister Francis was not there.

He was wrong.

“Come, incubus,” Ciel requested, slipping the leash’s hook into the hoop at the harness and exiting the dungeon with a sharp, commanding tug of the leash. Sebastian moved the bookshelf where it should have been and they went out into the hall.

Students were coming in again, most of them jubilant by the waste of forty minutes that had allowed them to miss whatever class they were attending at the time. Hitching the leash over his shoulder like he would have a bag, Ciel pulled the demon along, parading him down the hall. Let them stare. Let them be jealous. Sebastian was his and his alone. And should anyone come for him again, they would perish.

A purr of utter contentment could be heard from Sebastian as heads whipped around, and idle chatter morphed into whispers and gasps. He walked behind his master, alpha pheromones on full blast for the student population, intensifying their envy as they made their way to Ciel’s locker to pick up his next class’ books.

A group of omegas had congregated there, that much Ciel could tell from a distance. There were maybe fifteen of them? Some were sobbing. Others were on their knees or else leaning into one another for support. But why?

“Out of my way,” he mumbled on outskirts of the crowd, pushing his way through. The smell of fresh blood, raw and acrid made its way to his nostrils before his brain could register what his eyes saw. CIEL PHANTOMHIVE IS A WHORE in bold, bleeding letters and Bard strung upside down below them on his locker, in the shape of an inverted cross, but with his limbs broken and at odd angles. The mess spilled onto the floor in a sizable puddle from his yawning mouth and his torso, the latter having been ungracefully ripped open as if by a wild animal’s teeth and claws. There was a gaping hole in his chest, and by the bite marks in the lungs and sternum, Ciel could tell his heart had been devoured. The nearer he got, the more he picked up on the athlete’s distinctive alpha scent. There was definitely fear there, and terror, but under those was the hint of a fervent arousal that no regular death could have warranted.

The leash fell from his hand as he regarded Sebastian at his side; he knew the demon had made the connection as well, perhaps even faster. This death had been caused by an incubus.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

When people are sent to hell, they must first pay Charon the ferryman to cross the River Styx into the Underworld. By all accounts, this passage is the first of many horrors the newly deceased encounter. Those who cannot pay the toll spend one hundred years writhing in the fires bordering Styx, their limbs like flames, ebbing and flowing with the rough current. Others inhabit the chaotic river, their desperate hands breaking the surface of the bloodied, boiling water, grasping at anything that will give them leverage to hoist themselves out.

If payment is made, passengers in the papyrela are advised to hide their heads in their hands, to ignore the death rattle, the screeching pleas but most of all, to avert their gaze from the eyes like hollow furnaces devoid of fire; it’s said that staring into such abyss causes the observer to reflect that same void for eternity.

It was what Hades wanted: listless beings, a disposable army of empty souls to use as he pleased to fuck or fight.

The few who withstood the lure of the dead and endured their journey across Styx were granted privileges, but still bore the unmistakable scent and appearance of having seen too much.

Ciel had never been to Hell, and if Sebastian had any say in the matter, he would never experience it either, but in that moment, staring at what remained of the devastated body of Bard pinned to his locker and the threat painted overhead, he resembled a certain child the incubus had met prior to escaping his captors.

He’d never minded it before, but on his master, he hated that vacant, thousand mile stare.

Ciel was rooted to the spot. He couldn't take his eyes off the scene before him: the wailing omegas, the blood spilling onto the floor, the chest cavity that lacked a heart, and his own name. It was written in such a way that when he read it, he could hear the vitriol with which it was uttered: drawn out ‘C’ like a hissing snake, hard ‘PH’ like the speaker were saying fuck, the first part ‘PHANTOM’ said loudly to emphasize the state of existence desired by the writer and a whispered ‘HIVE’ to remove any hint of a safe haven.

Ciel had read it less than a dozen times before being dragged away from the scene, his small hand hot and wet with perspiration from keeping his fist clenched, tucked away in the devil’s large one. The further they got, the less he could smell death in the hall. They turned the corner and Sebastian pushed him through the washroom door and locked it behind them once inside.

Ciel automatically went to the sinks, turned the water on and splashed some on his face. It dripped down his cheeks, his chin and he brought more of it to his mouth to drink. Gawking at his reflection, he swore colour drained from his face like water sprayed upon a newly painted canvas. “W-what’s going on, Sebastian,” he asked, gripping the porcelain basin.

As the incubus took his place behind him, they made eye contact via the mirror. Sebastian’s hands slid lower to Ciel’s hips and gave them a squeeze. “Nothing for you to worry about this instant. I took care of it master…” He thumbed Ciel’s trouser button open and casually slid his hands inside, bringing them back to cup the omega’s rear. “Precious, can I?”

Somewhere in his brain, Ciel knew this wasn’t the time. This certainly wasn’t the place, but he couldn’t be bothered to refuse. Someone was definitely gunning for him and this was as good a distraction as any, right?

Deep lines appeared on Ciel’s forehead, brows drawing together as Sebastian kneaded his ass and tugged his pants lower on his hips. “Beg, incubus.”

The devil’s hands came out of Ciel’s trousers and drifted to the front and higher, gently compressing the boy’s ribs, tracing them to his sternum before grasping fistfuls of his school shirt and tugging it with enough force to pop the buttons off one by one. Some bounced onto the floor while others spilled into the sink. He pushed the cotton fabric down Ciel’s shoulder, along with the flimsy strap of his camisole, his incubus mouth smacking its way noisily up to the boy’s neck.

Ciel felt lips ghost against his skin, felt the little hairs rise at the nape of his neck and his cock stir in his underwear. Sebastian licked the shell of his ear and whispered, “You think I’m ashamed to beg for you, little master? I’ll get on my knees if it’s what you so desire. You remember of what I’m capable in that position, don’t you?”

Ciel shuddered and his dick swelled. “You’re still not begging,” he told Sebastian a little breathless, head lolling to the side in invitation. His hands were glued to the sink, unable to move of their own volition -- a precaution.

“Please, Precious,” Sebastian crooned, biting into the offered flesh and reveling in the slight tensing of his master as he did so. Ciel relaxed when his incubus licked the area, soothing and healing the small hurt. His longer fingers pinched the hardened nipples through the thin camisole and the boy gave a contented sigh. “Please let me have you. I’ll do anything…”

“Better,” Ciel praised, panting as his eyes closed, “but I’m not convinced you really want to yet.”

“Open your eyes, look… see what I see, then,” the incubus mumbled against Ciel’s neck, keeping an eye on his master's reflection.. “You're flushed so beautifully… Can you see yourself trembling? And the way your mouth is open, it makes you look so needy, so hungry.”

It was true. The omega had never appreciated his own beauty before, but it was there in his desire, in his blown pupils beneath fluttering lashes, the way his slender body coyly fit itself perfectly against the demon's, his pretty, pink tongue that came out to moisten his lips, peaked nipples tenting see-through fabric on a rising and falling chest with quickened breath.

“Now why wouldn't I beg for this?” Sebastian whispered, rubbing his painfully hard engorgement against the small of Ciel’s back. Already, the length had pushed its way up and out and was trapped between his waistband and tucked-in shirt. The pheromone-rich air felt good on it, tingled the sensitive head, relieved it of some pressure, but he wanted the rest of it exposed, or else buried in a tight, scorching heat. “Please, Precious. I beg of you. Please.”

“Fine,” Ciel allowed, promptly rolling his hips back. Sebastian held them in place, growling as his foot pushed down on the trousers partway down the boy’s separated legs. They fell to his ankles, along with his underwear.

“Thank you, master,” Sebastian replied fervently, drenching his fingers in spit, pulling them out of his mouth in long dripping strands and brought them to Ciel's backside.

Sebastian spread Ciel apart and the omega’s eyes fluttered shut. The feel of smooth, wet fingertips teased him, circling, petting and tapping his twitching hole. He groaned, lip caught between his teeth, gripping the sink hard as one pushed in.

“Shall I stop, master?”

“N-no… don’t,” Ciel rasped, breathing through his nose, head hung.

Sebastian’s free hand wandered to the omega’s throat and thumbed the outline of the artery whose blood rushed madly through it. With his long index finger, he tilted the boy’s chin up and instructed him, “Keep your eyes open and watch me pleasure you.”

Ciel nodded with difficulty and moaned as Sebastian moved his finger expertly in and out of him. His shirt slid from his shoulders, and bunched at his elbows, leaving the hem to obscure the sight of his perfect, round ass. “Nngh… ahhhh… another,” he whined, his knees shaking.

Unimpressed, the demon set fire to the cotton fabric, it burned from the center-out, and singed Ciel’s barely-there arm hair as it put itself out. Satisfied, Sebastian’s hand left the omega’s throat and carded his hair, fisting it and gradually pulled it back. He could see the boy’s teeth clenched behind the ecstatic smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Of course, Precious. You’ll need quite a few more to get you ready for what I want to give you.”

A drawn-out keening sound escaped Ciel as another finger joined the first and drove into him at a torturous pace. When they pulled out to add a third, slick, sticky and sweet-smelling, spilled from his hole, down his bottom and his thighs.

Sebastian bent his master to finger him deeper, his lovely face nearly pressed against the mirror. Fog spread the smooth surface, augmenting with every huffed breath. Ciel’s hips were pinned against the porcelain to keep him from moving, from squirming and pushing back as if he were impaling himself on the demon’s cock rather than his fingers. It was difficult enough to block out the cries of “Sebastian… Sebastian…” coming from his omega and not to ravage him the way he wanted.

“You like this, don’t you, Ciel? Being full of me?”

Ciel’s eyes swam with euphoria as they sought the demon’s through his tears. “Yes,” he croaked, up on the tips of his toes, jerking forward with every thrust.

Behind Ciel, Sebastian’s aura expanded in dark undulations as he fed. “I like being full of you too… taste so good, Ciel… better than anyone else.” The omega was fragrant and luscious. Intoxicating. And as his panting grew louder, his whimpers and sighs escalated to full, throaty moans that echoed in the washroom and caused Sebastian’s dick to leak and painfully throb. He moved his fingers more forcefully inside Ciel, four of them now, pumping lewdly, twisting and curling and making room to stuff himself inside that tight, pulsing heat.

“Let me fuck you,” the devil growled, ripping his trousers open and letting his dick smack against Ciel’s ass and smear black precum on it as it fell out. “Let me make you come.”

“T-too late… too late…” the omega gasped, pressure rising in his neglected cock and peaking hard.

Ciel woke with a small cry, convulsing as he came in his underwear and heavy sheets. His eyes snapped open and he was facing not a mirror, but a familiar cream coloured wall, draped with greenery. His body arched as the last of his release was spilled and he could feel the panted breaths of the demon’s chest on his back as he was held in a vice-like grip. He couldn’t move, couldn’t touch Sebastian or rid himself of the wet, clinging sheets that stuck to his privates.

“Sebastian… did we just?” he asked, spent and short-winded. He was so confused. With how hard Sebastian was pounding his fingers into him, he should feel sore, but other than the tacky cum, there was no physical evidence of their tryst.

“No, master. Not really,” the demon admitted, disentangling himself from Ciel now that the boy had stopped thrashing in his sleep. He dragged the scent of Ciel’s spoils into himself and gave a contented sigh. “I was dreamwalking. I’m so weak after… and I didn’t want to bother you…”

Ciel turned around to face Sebastian, orgasmic bliss slipped from him and his features turned cold as he confronted the incubus. “Wait, you did that with me? In my dream? Without my consent?”

 

Sebastian was taken aback by Ciel’s reaction. His hand hovered over the small body; he’d intended to soothe the tension from him until he spoke so harshly. “You consented. I asked multiple times, do you not remember? I would never… Not now… Not with you.”

Everything was newly fuzzy for Ciel. He couldn’t recall it perfectly, but it had been a good dream once he’d been swept into the washroom. Still, he was embarrassed, couldn’t have the incubus doing this to him whenever he felt like it.

The demon’s face fell as he regarded the tips of Ciel’s reddened ears and his chin dipping down. “I’m sorry, master. I thought you enjoyed yourself. I made sure to place you in front of a mirror so that I could watch for the slightest sign that you did not want…”

Ciel detected shame in the incubus’ voice. He was definitely contrite for what he’d done. And he was right, the more the omega remembered, the more he could recall all the instances he'd agreed to it. He stretched, not really sore or achy from what had transpired, but still a little depleted. “It’s fine, Sebastian. I believe you. Just don’t make a habit of it, okay?”

Sebastian agreed and rose from the bed. He was still fully clothed in his school uniform and his slacks revealed a cramped bulge at the front. He turned and adjusted himself, angling his demon cock downwards instead; it still strained against the fabric of his thigh, but was less uncomfortable this way. When he faced his master again, his arms were outstretched, “Come, we’ll go wash in the forest.”

“We have a perfectly good communal shower next door,” Ciel argued, looking outside and seeing the sun start to set. How long had he been asleep? Had hours passed or a day?

Sebastian smiled as Ciel reluctantly climbed to the edge of the bed despite his prior assertion and let himself be carried to the window. “We need to talk, and I don't want to be overheard.”

He leapt out with Ciel clutched in his arms and carried him to the pomegranate gates. Owls greeted them as they strode through the yard, apples smelled riper and flowers bloomed wider. Ciel likely did not notice, but as he shivered in the early evening breeze, he clung a little tighter to his incubus.

The omega listened to the words uttered by Sebastian at the tightly coiled grove and tried to commit them to memory. He doubted he could even come close to making those sounds. They were at once soothing and threatening. Guttural and dulcet. Ciel asked to be put on the ground once they were granted entrance and he reveled in the soft, warm, damp earth that molded itself around his feet as he walked. With only his tiny underwear on that rode high on his hips and accentuated his svelte legs, Ciel followed Sebastian up the meandering trail, the former walked facing him, as though he knew the path by heart, or perhaps it was the incubus’ will that gave it form.

“Do you remember what happened at school? Not in the dream. Think back to being at the lockers. You might struggle a little with the recollection,” Sebastian asked when the tranquil sound of the small waterfall could be heard. He parted the tall grasses and ferns for Ciel then saw their destination. Water rained softly from the top of an outcropping in the rock that formed a somewhat hidden cavern. It flowed down a gentle streamlet and into a deep, mossy ravine that disappeared into the soil.

A mild, pleasant mist caressed Ciel’s face and brought with it a rejuvenating sensation, one that made him more aware. In all the years he’d been exploring this forest, he had never stumbled across such a delightful sight. It bode well for his suspicion that this place was not really within the vicinity of the orphanage. Had they somehow been carried away elsewhere? “The last thing I remember is you putting your hand over my eyes,” he confessed.

Sebastian was impressed. He could count on one hand the amount of times someone had managed to fight off the effects of purposeful oblivion, but those individuals had all been supernatural, save for Ciel.

The incubus removed his shirt and loose tie, and pulled the omega into the shallow pool of nighttime water that sparkled like constellations. He felt the soothing liquid cascade over his head and sluice over his chest and shoulders from above. “I made you sleep. I didn’t want you to see... The others at your school won't remember as well.” Sebastian could barely get the aftertaste of the young alpha off his sharp tongue after having devoured him whole. There was no evidence of his body left behind.

“See what? That Bard was killed? You didn’t do that did you?” He stepped closer to the incubus, made curious by the alluring scent of the cleansing fluid that washed over his body. His hand reached out to trace the progression of glinting drops down Sebastian’s neck, when the incubus captured his fingers.

Sebastian shook his head, smiled exasperated at his charge as a subtle reminder. He would always have to be on his guard with this one. Even if they were not engaged in a heated exchange, Ciel never ceased to be tempting, a forbidden fruit. He turned the boy away from him and held him against his chest, so that he was swathed in protective arms and moonlit water. “Of course not, Precious,” he reassured, “that alpha was repulsive. But how clever of you to have caught on. You scented his arousal in the air?”

“Yes. And his terror. Is that what an incubus…”

“Yes and no. Almost. This one was being tender with its prey. There was too much of Bard left for them to have finished,” Sebastian explained. He bent to pick up a handful of the floating redolent blooms, was inclined to lick his way up the back of Ciel’s legs, and if the boy hadn’t been sporting his underwear that stuck to him most pleasantly, he might have asked. He rubbed the petals onto the boy’s back once he came up again, smearing their essence into his skin and leaving multi-coloured streaks in their wake.

Despite the weight of the topic, Ciel felt the tension wash out of him. “So you’re saying there’s another incubus at school?

“No,” the incubus answered curtly. He wasn’t lying; it most definitely wasn’t another incubus. Reflexively, he held Ciel closer to himself, ran the flowers over the omega’s chest as a diversion from his guilt.

Ciel turned his head, looked up at the handsome face whose features revealed nothing but calm. “But they’re clearly after me. Druitt, now this… that note was for me, Sebastian. Why are they after me?”

The boy missed nothing and he deserved to know, though even some of it was still confusing to the incubus. He lifted Ciel to the lip of the cavern set behind the waterfall and sat him there. At this height, and between the omega’s thighs, they were face to face. “Do you remember how starved I was? When we first met?”

Ciel snorted and raised a defiant brow, “You mean something’s changed?”

“Very funny, omega,” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I was a bit more forceful in feeding from you? Not as…”

“Respectful?”

“Ah, you were paying attention,” the incubus smirked, giving the boy’s waist a squeeze. He kept his hands there and his elongated fingers rubbed circles along the boy's spine. “The truth is, when you summoned me, I had been detained for weeks without sustenance.”

The summoning had been a coincidence. It was not the reason he’d shown up in Ciel’s room to begin with, that had been perfect timing. The boy had spoken his words wrong, his Latin had been sloppy, not unlike his twin soul, who’d snuck into the dungeons after having poisoned the guards.

”What are you doing here child? Come to let me feast on you?” Sebastian thrashed against his restraints, looking both feverish and rabid.

“No, but I can get you out of those,” the boy nodded towards the multiple chains. He had brilliant, blue flames for eyes and as he spoke they flickered ardently and filled the whole of his sockets.

Sebastian cackled with delirium at the wee thing. “I doubt it. If I can’t get myself out, what can a dead little alpha do, hmm?”

From the inside of his overalls pocket, the boy removed a bloodied key. The last time Sebastian had seen it, it had been swallowed by one of the Furies for safe keeping; Alecto had pat her belly with a satisfying belch to rub it in his face. How had he managed to retrieve it and in one piece was nothing short of a miracle.

“How did you…”

“Does it matter?” the boy asked mockingly, knowing the answer. They had a limited time before the guards were discovered and the witch hadn't given him enough poison to infect anyone else or a weapon to defend himself. “Very well. If I help you, you need to grant me a wish.”

“I’m not a genie, kid,” Sebastian growled.

“But you are a demon?” the boy said swinging the key like a pendulum in front of the incubus. “Give me a contract.”

“Fine, whatever you want. Just… untie me,” Sebastian ordered imperiously, not used to having to beg for anything in his thousand years.

“You didn’t ask what I wanted.”

“And I don't even care. Cut your hand open on that rock there,” he said nodding towards the jagged piece by the boy’s side, “yes, that’s it. Now do you see the cut at my ribs? Can you reach there?”

“Here?” the boy pointed to the gash that exposed some of the demon’s bones.

“Yes, there. Your blood needs to mingle with mine. Good, that’s it,” Sebastian guided as the boy pressed his wound against his own. “Now repeat these words, don’t fuck it up, or it won’t work.” He uttered a simple series of binding syllables. The best a child in Hell could want is for a new toy, more food, perhaps to not be tortured for a week. But not this child. After he finished, uttered the sounds to the very letter, he made his demand.

“You need to go to Earth and take care of my brother,” the alpha ordered the incubus. When he spoke of his sibling, the boy’s eyes were not dead like the rest of the lackeys here, there was strength and love and devotion in them; he’d fared well in crossing over Styx and had retained some of his human qualities. But there were so few children here, what had he done that was so terrible to have to spend eternity in the company of murders?

“What? You want me to babysit a child?” Sebastian laughed, and he was barely able to keep the sound muffled in his cell.

“He’s grown now. Listen, do you want the key or not?”

“Yes, yes. Get me out of here.” Once freed, he rubbed his wrists that had been made raw by the cuffs. He ached everywhere, whether it was visible or not. And he hungered. Were the child some seven years older… maybe… “Okay, how will I know where to find him?”

“My DNA is in you now. And so is his.”

“So you were actually starved, not just being a glutton?” Ciel asked, but it wasn’t his words that broke the incubus out of his reverie, but rather his small, sympathetic hand on Sebastian’s cheek.

The incubus held the hand in place, afraid Ciel would realize what he’d done and remove it. There was nothing sensual about the touch, the gesture was one of comfort, or maybe as a show of understanding -- as small as he was, Ciel was likely to have known periods of starvation. Even in death, his twin had seemed better fed. “Yes, quite literally.”

Ciel had expected the rebuke, had held his breath for the span of two heartbeats before answering. “But why? What did you do?”

“It’s what I didn’t do,” Sebastian explained, leaving his position between Ciel’s legs and jumping up next to him. He stared out at the falling water, rather than the omega, feeling shame for once at the refusal of his responsibility. His reasons were entirely selfish, there was nothing noble about them. He wondered if Ciel would think less of him, less than he already did, that is. “I’m the son of Hades.”

“And Persephone is your mom?” Ciel questioned suspiciously, taking in the incubus’ profile, and trying to see the loveliness the Queen of the Underworld was said to have. It’s not that Sebastian wasn’t lovely in his own way, but there was nothing soft about his features.

“Yeah, except she’s wasn’t some goddess’ daughter or anything; that’s just a silly love story your kind made up to romanticize Hell. I think they were trying to rebrand, make it seem more inviting? I’m not sure, but you know how everyone assumes Hades kidnapped Persephone? It was really the other way around.”

Ciel’s eyes went wide and he gaped at Sebastian, shoving him with his shoulder. “You’re shitting me.”

Sebastian laughed and when he looked at the omega, there was a genuine smile tugging at his incubus lips. Other than Sieglinde and the army it took to take down his mother, none knew the truth. He pushed the boy’s long, soaked fringe from his eyes and his fingers lingered there. “I swear. My mom, she was like what I am, and she fell hard for my father the moment she saw him. Our kind, incubi, are cursed to not be able to fall in love. It kind of gets in the way of survival if we have to be monogamous. Either we starve, or we completely deplete the one we love, you see the dilemma?”

Ciel nodded, a surprising dejected sadness swelling inside him. He slumped over a little, curling his fingers along the rocky ledge. He wished a breeze would come disturb the warm air around them to move the obvious longing that had made its way into his scent. He didn't know who had it worse: the incubus who might want to be in love but couldn't or the omega who could but didn't want to be?

“Anyhow, Persephone, my mother, stalked Hades day and night for a month, gave up feeding just to watch over him. When he was finally alone, she overtook him with her wiles and stole him. She brought him here.” Sebastian heard the rumbling of Ciel's stomach as he spoke and summoned a handful of juicy berries to his open hand. He offered it to the omega who gratefully took them one by one.

“And where exactly is here?” Ciel asked as he swallowed the first few berries, feeling like he was finally getting some answers.

“The Pholóē Oak Forest, or at least a small section that was gifted to my mother by the centaurs. They often came to her for advice or help in sexual matters when the goddesses turned them away for their very nature. As you noticed, you'd have difficulty accessing it, it's meant to keep things and people out.” From deep within the cavern, he'd gained an audience member as he recounted his tale to the boy. He wondered when the great furball would turn up.

He smiled as he continued. “My father was a willing victim. They… fucked,” Sebastian cringed as he said the word, “for months on end. Hades being who he was, could not be killed, and fed my mother as though this was what he'd been created for. As a result of his love for Persephone, he left his duties in the Underworld neglected and eventually, his brothers sent an army in search for him. News of his abduction had spread, had reached the centaurs, who in turn informed my mother. At that point, she was round and weak with child… with me.”

Up until now, Ciel had always regarded the incubus as an adolescent with mood swings and deadly impulses. He'd never really seen him as a being with his own story and past, as something capable of feeling despair or sentimentality. He'd been wrong, and though he would never say it out loud, he quite liked this side of Sebastian. “Go on.. if you want,” he prompted, his fingers crawling over to where Sebastian's sat rigidly on the rock. He interlaced them, innocent in his intent.

The incubus stared at the hands between them and spoke to the tangled digits, since it was easier than seeing pity or disgust in his master's eyes. “They attacked Persephone the moment Hades emerged with her from the forest and sensing immediately what she was, never gave her the chance to defend herself. The few witnesses who were not slaughtered by my father moments later say that he cut me out of her dead body himself and took me back to the Underworld.”

Ciel cleared his throat and his eyes glistened with tears. Though he had been rendered sterile and would never bear children of his own, Persephone’s story still tugged at the maternal side he and most omegas had been cursed with from birth. He blinked, and tears clung to his lashes like condensed droplets to silky webs. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

Ciel's apology could have been shouted into the night for how loudly it resonated within the demon. Now that he had revealed his tragic backstory to the omega he was pleasantly surprised that he did not feel fragile for it, or ashamed. Of course he knew Ciel was not the kind of individual to ‘kick a man when he’s down’ (Druitt aside), and in that trust, in confiding part of himself to the boy, he felt more connected to him. “I'm sure you want to know what the hell this has to do with me being starved…”

Honestly, Ciel had forgotten about that. He'd been so drawn into Sebastian's storytelling that the mystery of ‘Ciel Phantomhive is a whore’ and Sebastian’s starvation were at the bottom of his list of things to find out. “Mhmm…”

Sebastian wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve such a captive, compassionate little listener, but he would spoil Ciel for it afterwards, give him whatever it was he wanted: jewels, the rarest artifacts, he would even talk to Uncle Zeus if Ciel wanted a part of heaven. The hand the omega was holding turned palm up and he wrapped his long fingers around Ciel’s. “When I came of age, I was expected to take my father’s place, so that he could finally retire. I refused. They used every dirty trick in the book to convince me. They weren’t above anything.”

“So they starved you as punishment,” Ciel asserted, trying to temper the increasing tempo of his heart. He took subtle breaths through his nose, filling his lungs and then let them escape his lips just as slowly. He thought he almost had it, then Sebastian absent-mindedly started petting the top of his hand with his thumb.

The devil licked his lips as the sweet scent of honeysuckle that suffused from Ciel reached him. It was new, or at least one with which he was not familiar; it wasn’t in the least seductive like the ruby fruit that was his natural aroma, this smelled… well it was difficult to describe a scent one had never encountered before. This one was heady, soothing and warm. It gave the impression of being home despite not actually being there. Maybe this was what belonging smelled like.

Sebastian heard a series of nearly imperceptible whines from within the cavern; it seemed he wasn’t the only one to have picked up on the omega’s irresistible pheromones. He peered into the depths of the cave and glared, eyes flashing red, demanding silence, to not interrupt the intimacy he’d established by the sparkling pool. The incubus searched Ciel’s face to see if he’d noticed, and when he was sure the boy hadn’t, he continued, hesitantly, “Starved and tortured… But in answer to your initial question, why you? It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’ve been followed. They’re using you, to get to me.”

Ciel huffed, mildly amused, shook his head and met the devil’s humourless stare. “That’s ridiculous. I’m nothing to you.”

Air left Sebastian’s lungs in an audible huff, like he’d been taken unaware and jabbed in the stomach. Tilting his head and furrowing his brow, he considered the omega; he struggled in vain to make sense of Ciel’s statement, I’m nothing to you. How could the boy believe that even for a moment? Was his restraint not evidence enough? His true master, the omega’s twin had wanted Sebastian to take care of Ciel, but the incubus had begun caring for him instead.

The moon shone lucidly in the sky overhead, and the murmur of water breaking along the periphery of the streamlet, the soft plaintive moaning of the warm breeze and the slow, subtle shuffling forward from within the cavern were the only sounds in their vicinity.

In the silence between them, Sebastian was made conscious of the omega’s beauty in a way that he had previously overlooked. Not his desirability, or his sensuality; Ciel’s loveliness was not determined by someone else’s fleeting mood, or state of arousal. It was there in his humility, in his self-effacing manner, in his eyes wide and curious, shining like the most precious sapphires flecked with gold. The boy was beautiful. Beautiful to the core.

Ciel almost waved his hand up and down before Sebastian’s face. The demon was transfixed, and for a being not in the habit of mincing words, he was dubiously reticent. “What?” Ciel finally asked, self-consciously wiping his face when the incubus kept staring at him.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian balked. “You think I let just anyone collar me? That I bring everyone I meet here?” His hand cradled Ciel’s face as both their lips parted. He craved the omega’s mouth, not to tarnish, taste or ravage, but rather to know. To take Ciel’s breath inside himself and keep him there for when they weren’t touching. His forehead leaned against his master’s and he felt Ciel blink, those long lashes of his mingling with his own when his eyes shut. “Do you think I go around calling everyone I meet Precious? You understand the English language, don’t you? It means you’re valued, im… important, ” his voice quavered as he spoke. “You aren’t nothing Ciel Phantomhive.”

As Ciel’s heart pounded against his rib cage, trying to burst out, he was having trouble forming a coherent thought. Not nothing? He angled his head, lips pressed at the upper corner of the devil’s mouth, Does that make me something? His body spiked with a need so strong, his heart ached for it, cried for it, but not the kind that would feed his incubus. “A-are you dreamwalking right now, Sebastian?”

Slowly, the incubus ran his hand to the back of Ciel’s head and wound his fingers in the still wet hair. He pushed their faces even closer together and drew in a nervous, shaky breath before his first real kiss. “No, Precious. I’m not.”

Chapter Text

Ciel brushed his lips against Sebastian’s experimentally, delicately, testing to see if what the incubus said was true, that he was in fact there and that this was not a dream. When he felt them, hot and soft and malleable against his own, a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Sebastian’s pulse was beating in his ears, a thumping, throbbing whoosh in accompaniment to the only word on his mind, Ciel, Ciel, Ciel, Ciel, thump, Ciel, thump, Ciel, thump, pant, growl.

It happened before Sebastian could react. His head was so full of the omega, of his honeysuckle scent, of his longing and orphic aura, that the great, dumb thing was already upon Ciel. Beast and boy fell into the small pond that played host to the trickling waterfall and the incubus shot up to his feet, spurs bursting through his human guise, cutting through his skin. He took on a defensive crouch, readying to strike the wretched three-headed fiend as the omega thrashed beneath it, screaming pleas of mercy and begging for it to stop until the distressed sound gave way to peels of… laughter?

“P-Please… s-stop… Not th-there. Oh my lord...stop…” the omega roared, squirming and splashing about, his giggles, hearty whoops and guffaws carrying into the night sky and the very mellifluousness of the sound seemed to chase the clouds from the moon, letting it shine down upon the boy and sparkle the water like diamonds as it cradled him.

So beautiful, little omega, Sebastian thought, moved by the sight of him. The boy’s sapphire eyes glistened, wet with mirth, crinkled at the corners and his head was tossed back. For the demon, it might have been the single most enchanting moment of his existence. He was transfixed and mesmerized; it was not silence that was golden, but Ciel’s laughter. A treasure.

But almost instantly, the riveting epiphany was replaced by a gnawing jealousy. He himself had never been the cause of such a dulcet melody. Surely, he’d incited vulgarity, obscene moans and sighs of delight, begging and pleading that whipped them both into a frenzy, but nothing like this.

“Cerberus!” Sebastian scolded, voice hard, dripping with a demonic inflection that was not of this world. He saw Ciel go rigid under the beast, he likely didn’t recognize that tone, it was not one he’d ever used with the omega. “Cerberus. Get off my master.”

The beast’s large tongues were poised over Ciel, dripping slobber onto his skin and mixing with the shimmering knee-deep water. One of the heads dipped down, kept its disgruntled, fiery eyes on Sebastian and licked the omega again from shoulder to neck to face. Ciel gave a delighted, uncontrollable squeal.

“Cerberus!”

The word was punctuated after every syllable. The head that had disobeyed whined low like an idling engine, nudging the tiny human thing with his damp nose.

As the demon approached Ciel, Cerberus’ ears lay flat on its head, its many eyes were downcast, and an unmistakable look of shame coloured its inhuman features. Its large tail, easily the size of the omega, curled in on the beast, wrapping itself around its hind leg.

“Sebastian, what… what is this?” Ciel asked, his hand reaching out tentatively to stroke the smooth patch fur along the middle head’s muzzle. The other two groused, pushing the center head aside to feel the small digits rub them as well. The left one snarled when the right one nipped at it, leaving a tiny scratch on the tip of its black nose.

“It’s supposed to be my fierce and loyal pet,” Sebastian responded wading through the water and shoving the beast with his foot so that it would get off Ciel. Cerberus merely shoved back, the left head actually growled at its master and bared it teeth, before nuzzling the boy again, while the other two let their breaths out in a huff, indignant by the incubus’ treatment. Sensing the small boy was out of harm’s way, the demon’s body remade itself to resemble that which Ciel was most familiar.

Ciel wiggled out from under Sebastian’s pet and rose to his feet. The beast stood behind him possessively, its giant paws on either side of the boy, breathing hot down the omega’s neck. He turned to face it, smiling warmly as he scratched behind the center head’s ear. Its leg shook, its clumsy paw stomped the ground and its tail finally unfurled. “It doesn’t seem very fierce.”

Not right now, Sebastian agreed internally, not like this,. But he could hardly blame the dog. Ciel smelled distinctly of home and the freshness of crystalline snow glinting off branches upon having newly fallen. Combined with Sebastian’s own scent and that devotedly enamored trance he was in mere minutes ago, he could understand the dogs’ gravitation towards Ciel. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

“That’s because you broke it, omega. Look, he won’t even listen to his rightful owner,” Sebastian scowled, snapping his fingers at Cerberus and pointing to the ground next to him. Six eyes blinked evenly at the demon, unimpressed, playing the role of a selectively deaf puppy.

“It’s not broke, look at it, Sebastian. Look at these faces… They’re so cute,” Ciel praised in a higher tone than usual, exaggerating the words as he turned towards their heads, smooshing them playfully and scratching under their chins. “Who’s a hound of hell, huh? Is it you, Cerby? Is it you? Yes it is!” he cooed sweetly, the beast’s tail thumping rhythmically against the water, wetting everything within a two-mile radius, when abruptly it turned over, flopping onto its back, effectively exposing its belly to be rubbed “Just listen to it Sebastian! You love this don’t you Cerby? What a good boy!”

“Are… Cerberus! Are you purring? Hades in Hell, you chew bigger bones than Ciel! You’re an absolute disgrace!” His giant abomination paid him no mind, was on its back, legs twitching as the omega dug his blunt nails into its flank. The sounds it made were no different than a cat. A giant cat! It was as if Cerberus were spiting him! How long had he begged his father for a feline companion, only to be saddled with this three-headed mutt?

Ciel ignored the incubus, he was too busy lavishing attention on the kindly killer and recalling a time when his family had owned a dog of their own. Of course, he himself never had the opportunity to play with the canine, but he’d spent hours upon hours watching his twin brother play with him from the attic window. Sometimes Ciel’s twin would come sneak into his bed once their parents were asleep, and he could smell the pet upon the other boy's skin. The sting of remembrance made him even more affectionate towards the demon’s companion.

“Don’t you listen to him. He’s a big grouchy incubus who’s just sexually frustrated… Hungry all the time. You’re wonderful, aren’t you Cerby? Give Ciel kisses,” he instructed ruefully, not thinking twice about the protruding fangs from the beast’s gaping, panting mouths; by the omega’s best estimate, they were as long, if not longer than his whole arm.

Sebastian snorted climbing out of the small pool and leaned against a Rusty Fig tree. He plucked a pomegranate from a nearby bush and bit into it, peel and all just to distract from the surge of hostile outrage he felt towards yet another rival for Ciel’s attention. “He doesn’t do tricks. Too lame. And stop calling him that. His name is Cerberus. C-E-R-B-E-R-U-S.”

Sporting duck lips, Ciel tapped his own cheek gently with his finger and immediately the left-side head reached to lick the spot indicated by the little omega. “Oh you're a good boy, Cerby. The best boy. It's Sebastian who’s lame isn't it?”

The incubus’ anger flared like lava flow licking the inside of a volcano, ready to erupt. It sent heat rippling through his body, evaporating the drops of water still clinging to his skin and liquefied the pomegranate in his hand.

But his temper tantrum wasn’t accomplishing anything. Neither the boy, nor the mutt had noticed. They’d been too busy making goo-goo eyes at one another until Ciel was knocked over, having tried to teach Cerberus how to hi-five. He must not have accounted for the size of his paws or the strength behind them.

“You know, I’ve never had a pet before, not really,” Ciel pondered out loud, beaming from on his ass just beside the small pool. He was dirty again, muddied from toes to waist. When he looked up at Sebastian, it was with a smile so wide, his cheeks were hurting.

“And you still don’t. He’s not yours,” the demon scowled, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest. The first comment was for Ciel, the second for Cerberus. They both answered with a drawn out plaintive objection. “Fine! I’ll lend him to you. Sometimes. When I feel like it.”

The look on Ciel’s face couldn’t be described as anything other than victorious, like he had won some grand prize or that a great honour had been bestowed upon him. It was grating. No, it was beyond that. Sebastian's jealousy made it impossible for him to simply enjoy the omega's exuberance. He coveted Ciel’s bliss for himself, wanted to be its sole donor and beneficiary, but with only lust and carnality in his arsenal, he was well out of his depth.

Looking for any reason to separate his master from his mutt, the demon forced a small breeze to travel through the trees, carrying with it the subtle scent of lavender and chamomile. He seized the opportunity to scold the little imp when he tried to hide a yawn by turning his head towards Cerberus. “I think we should get you back to the orphanage.”

“But I don’t want to go back tonight,” Ciel replied sleepily, yawning again. He’d lost all conception of time, and wondered if it was a trick of this particular forest or because most of the night had been somewhat dreamlike. “I’m sure there’s somewhere for me to crash here? I mean, what kind of Hell Prince would you be if you couldn’t even provide that much?”

Ciel couldn’t help the smirk on his face, he was enthralled by how positively annoyed Sebastian was at the moment. Served him right. It was about time he knew how it felt to observe the object of his affection being fawned over. Not that Sebastian was the object of his affections, of course, though he might be the closest thing to a crush Ciel had ever experienced.

“If you think for one second that you’re going to drag mud into my bed, you have another thing coming, omega.” Some of the demon’s irritability melted away now that he had the boy’s attention again. He was learning that Ciel’s regard, especially when positive, was like the sun neglecting the rest of the world to shine down on you and you alone, but the moment it was distracted by fear, by guilt or by a certain four-legged creature, the world was a very cold and lonely place, not unlike home had been.

“Why don’t you go wash up… again…” Sebastian sighed, but his eyes flickered with amusement, torn by the thought of helping Ciel or of getting rid of his competition, “and I’ll take this monster to do his business elsewhere.”

“Alright, but bring him back!” Ciel called as Sebastian snapped his fingers at Cerberus in a decidedly authoritative manner.

Cerberus’ attention was on its master, looking at him contritely the moment Ciel slipped his nymphish body back into the water. To deflect its shame, the center head bent low and grasped a stick in its maw for Sebastian to throw.

“Very well,” the demon muttered under his breath, walking away from the omega, the hellhound bounding at his side, all three tongues hanging out.

When they were out of earshot some half-mile or so, but still close enough for Sebastian’s flame-filled predator eyes to feast on the perfect little thing’s body and appreciate how the water sluiced over its soft angles, he stopped short and smacked Cerberus playfully on the snouts with the twig.

“What the hell was that huh? Couldn’t help yourself?” he chided, preparing to lecture the beast as he himself had been so many times by tutors who’d discovered him crouched over pilfered bodies on which he’d fed to the point of gluttony, but he lost steam when he heard Ciel humming a curious melody. Curious because it was soft and sweet and reminiscent of a carefree childhood. One he knew for a fact (thanks to his true master) that Ciel had not experienced. “Yeah, me neither, I can’t ever help myself. Just look at him.”

Look at him indeed! Slate hair slicked against his cherubic upturned face, eyes closed, little pink tongue licking the water running over his lips as he smiled. Sebastian could not swallow for his heart. But it wasn’t the only thing thumping madly. Ciel, like this, wet undergarments stuck unapologetically to his beautiful, lithe body was like a drug to the incubus. One whose addictiveness never waned. He felt his member press hard into the fabric of his slacks and growled.

“See what you’ve done?” Sebastian said pointing to his crotch.

Cerberus dropped to the forest floor, covering its eyes with its massive paws. As its master adjusted himself, it backed away slowly, soundlessly and sneakily as though it wasn’t the size of an elephant, and crawled in the direction that smelled of warmth and welcome.

Seeing his pet inching towards the boy, Sebastian sped behind it and pushed back against its upper thighs, eliciting a disappointed yelp from the beast. “Oh no you don’t. If I don’t get to enjoy him the way I want, neither do you. I had it all set up, you know. There was no arousal in sight, less than a hairsbreadth separating our lips and then… I won’t be able to get that back anytime soon now. You don't know what he does to me.”

Cerberus gave a huff of exasperation. He knew. He’d known his master long enough to be able to detect his hunger anywhere. Certainly this one was qualitatively different. It was definitely more potent but lacked its insatiability. That voraciousness had been replaced by attachment bordering on devotion; this was what had drawn the beast from hiding in the first place: a peaked curiosity to see whom or what had roused his master in such a way. Ciel’s luscious, ambrosial scent worthy of the gods had been enticing, but only secondary.

“I’ll make you a deal. You stay away tonight…”

Cerberus vocalized a sound that nearly resembled one of the Underworld’s most obscene curses. Sebastian wasn’t sure where he’d picked that up, but he didn’t have time to properly reprimand the mutt either.

“Let me finish. Stay away tonight, give me some time with him again.” Taking a page out of the omega’s book he tried to be more tender with his pet, it had worked for Ciel after all. He made a point of looking it in the eyes, and patting all its heads.

The beasts bumped its massive skulls against the demon’s hand, and gave a last fleeting look out in the distance at the small shivering form climbing out of the pool.

“You want to keep him don’t you?” The heads each gave an unmistakable bark of fervent acquiescence. “Good, me too. Now go…” Sebastian threw the twig and the beast went after it.

The incubus was quick to return to the omega, even quicker to wrap his arms around the tiny thing to keep him from trembling. It wasn’t that the forest was particularly cool, but it provided him with enough of a reason to touch Ciel again without the intent being overtly sexual.

“That’s better,” he said selfishly. It was better for himself he meant, the closeness to Ciel, rather the boy being clean. He didn’t really care how filthy the omega had been, he desired him no less. Regardless, he leaned into the boy’s wet body from behind, as the heat from his own evaporated the tiny water particles clinging to the boy’s skin.

“Where’s Cerby?” Ciel only half heard Sebastian’s comment, too busy looking around for the giant three-headed dog; it wasn’t like he would be particularly hard to miss.

Sebastian held Ciel tighter; notice me, he wanted to beg. He examined the way he embraced the boy, how he was nearly poured over him, not possessively or protectively the way demons staked their claims, but in a very human way. Hugging, like what close-bonded people did to relay comfort. He’d seen Ciel do it countless times to Finnian; sometimes when the little blonde said something funny, or even when he was sad -- like that time another omega had finished the strawberry jam, leaving none for his friend’s morning toast.

How was he supposed to convey to Ciel that he was the one in need of a hug? That he was desperate to recapture what they’d had, albeit briefly. He rested his head on Ciel’s shoulder, admiring his profile as the boy stared obliviously into the forest. If anyone from the Underworld saw him now, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Oh, you know, doing hellhoud stuff: gutting small creatures, wreaking havoc on unsuspecting wildlife…” Ciel did not go rigid as the demon had hoped; he thought perhaps inciting some fear in regards to the monstrous mutt might put some emotional distance between the boy and his newfound friend. What did change was the subtle scent emanating from the omega. It had gone from candied contentment to something languishing.

Sebastian didn’t like it. From behind the omega, his mind raced, sorting a variety of elements that produced a half-assed pros and cons list. Cons of having Cerberus present: it was loud, it was obnoxious, its breaths kind of stank, it made stupid sounds, it didn’t realize how big it was, essentially thinking it was a lap dog, it gave attitude, it stole Ciel’s attention. Pros: it made Ciel happy.

He sighed, resigned to his very unbalanced list; the one pro was so much heavier weighted than the thousands of cons he could have easily come up with. Straightening up, he turned from Ciel, and gave a shrill whistle with two fingers in his mouth.

“A little warning would have been nice!” Ciel exclaimed holding his ears, glaring back at the demon, but his harsh expression faltered when he heard an answering howl echo in the night.

“Sorry,” Sebastian grumbled, repositioning his hands at the boy’s shoulders and since Ciel made no move to distance himself, he saw no reason to stop touching him affectionately.

But Ciel winced when the demon’s large hands slid down to his waist and his thumbs began rubbing circles at the small of his back. “Ouch. Sebastian…”

Sebastian pulled away from Ciel and only now noticed the fine latticework of scratches and the beginning of shallow bruising decorating his back. “What’s this?”

It was tender now that the demon drew attention to it. Ciel had been too surprised at first by having been thrown to the rocky bottom of the pool, and too elated afterwards playing with the beast to have noticed any pain. “It's nothing, don't worry about it, honestly.”

“You're hurt, and under my watch… this won't do. Come, let's treat this before it gets worse,” the devil protested, then half-growled when he saw Cerberus approaching repentantly carrying a small apple tree in its right side mouth. It no doubt heard their conversation and wanted to apologize for its enthusiasm. “You stay!”

“It's fine, really,” Ciel fretted, walking a little stiffly to the beast and plucking a fruit from one of the branches. He bit into it right away and juices from the apple ran down the boy’s chin and fingers.

Hedonism swelled in the demon; he was getting further and further away from the untarnished, sinless feelings he’d been trying to repress. They slipped from his tenuous hold like water through his fingers, but he was determined, at the very least, to show Ciel that he was not only interested in him for sustenance. “Humour me, omega, let me take care of your injuries.”

Sebastian’s voice had Ciel pausing mid-chew. He hadn’t noticed until now that his tone had changed; it held loverlike concern instead of the fondness a Cordon Bleu chef might have for their newly slaughtered lamb. “O-okay, what do you have in mind?” he asked, eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Follow me,” Sebastian told him, snatching the boy by the hand and letting it slide to the boy’s tiny fingers where he held onto them.

They didn’t go far. Ciel could still hear the small stream some feet away as they walked through fog and a thicket of feather-soft vines that opened up to a marooned velvety, soil made mostly of mosses. At its center, the clearing boasted a singular tree so dark it was black, one whose trunk was not much taller than the demon, but wide, strong and old. Its multiple sturdy, knotted branches radiated skywards like arms bent at their elbows. Within the whole forest, Ciel was certain this was the only tree without foliage.

“Is this where you sleep?” Ciel asked as Cerberus sauntered ahead and collapsed at the foot of the tree, curling himself up comfortably and closing his many eyes.

Sebastian smiled when he heard genuine interest in the omega’s voice. “Yes, Precious. When I’m not with you, or watching over you. But we’re not going to sleep yet…”

Ciel yawned, just thinking about slumber and gave the incubus his apple core. “I’m really too tired for…”

“I know. I don’t want to…” Sebastian interrupted. It was mostly true. Of course he would never deny Ciel should he want to engage in any carnal pleasures, but it was not his intent at that very moment.

“Who are you and what have you done with my incubus?” Ciel demanded, only half joking.

My incubus. The possessive spin on the title brought a toothy grin to the demon’s face. “I told you, I wanted to take care of you. Now why don’t you lie down on your belly.”

“On the ground?”

As if to prove a point, Sebastian’s foot pressed into the soft earth and it sank beneath him. It was cushiony, likely better than any mattress Ciel had ever slept on, including the one currently in his room. He got to his knees and patted the soft surface. “Yes, on the ground.”

Ciel followed, getting to his knees, then onto his belly. The moss shaped itself accordingly to cradle his head and bumped under his abdomen and ankles to support his spine. It was warm, and comforting, as though he were laying on a very large hot water bottle. He recalled his twin sneaking one up when he’d been sick all those years ago and placing it on his sore tummy. His brother held it there with his own body, holding him face to face, their feet tangled in one another as he whispered soothing words of encouragement.

Ciel sighed his relief and released whatever tension had been collecting on his overburdened shoulders for days, week, years.

“That’s it, Precious. You’ll feel brand new when I’m done with you,” Sebastian crooned, crawling over the small omega and straddling his rear, careful not to add weight on the small form. He rubbed his hands together in front of his mouth, and between his breath and the resulting friction, his hands were pleasantly heated. Ciel moaned low in his throat when he laid them at either side of his neck and Sebastian went deathly still above him, suppressing an answering groan.

That the omega would enjoy the act of touching in absence of desire, was not something he had anticipated. As Sebastian’s hands took on the shadowed black appearance they often did when his more devilish impulses were skirting the surface, he realized that his altruism would prove more difficult than he had foreseen. He ignored it, swallowing hard as his hands drifted down Ciel’s slender back. He willed them not to shake, but then Ciel’s body shuddered and he mmm’ed and ahhh’ed as the incubus began gently kneading his moonlit skin.

“Sebastian, that feels so good,” he heard Ciel gasp, face turned to the side, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

Sebastian didn’t miss the way Ciel’s little fists tightened their hold in the moss like they were blankets, like the way they did when he imagined taking the boy from behind on his bed. He shut his eyes to it, barely resisting the urge to groan. His dubious control was slipping as he kept moving his fingers along the omega’s skin, when all he really wanted to do is move them in and out of Ciel, to have them sticky and moist with slick spilling from his tight little hole.

“Fuck,” Sebastian gritted under his breath.

“Hmm?”

“It’s nothing. You’re just so tight… Your muscles I mean...” he recovered, massaging Ciel, hands working their way up and down his back, avoiding the small hurts near his tailbone, and if he was honest with himself, the whole area because of its proximity to his pert rear. He spent time near the boy’s neck again, his long fingers rubbing just behind Ciel’s ears. The omega moved in perfect synchronicity, burying his face into the ground and exposing his nape perfectly as his slate hair fell at either sides.

Sebastian licked his lips and felt his canines extend and press into his bottom one. He changed the distribution of his weight and lowered himself so that his bare chest was nearly against the boy’s. He breathed him in, and Ciel’s smell reached deep inside him, stirring him, causing him physical pain at his own denial. Damn it!

He came back up, traced the outline of the omega’s muscles with this thumbs, then rolled his damp palms over them with long, hourglass-shaped strokes. He was tempted to pinch the little fat on the omega’s body, to leave pinkish, blushy marks all over him, to hear him hiss his name like an expletive.

“Oooh… Right there, Sebastian. Mmmn…”

That wasn’t an expletive.

The sound reverberated against the ground, and Sebastian’s body was so sensitive, so receptive, that he felt the moss tremble under his knees. His cock pulsed and grew and throbbed. It left his trousers soaked with the effort it took to resist the omega.

“Don’t stop, Sebastian,” Ciel begged, his voice sleepy and soothed.

The demon’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his chest heaved. He kept his hands on each side of Ciel’s spine and applied tapping strokes to break the boy out of his blissful state. It was a terrible idea; it increased the boy’s circulation, colouring him beautifully.

“Are… Are you ready to sleep yet, Precious?” the incubus asked, not disguising the plea in his tone. If he touched the boy any more, he would find a way to seduce him into getting what it was his demon’s body desired.

“Mm… not really. I’m still kind of hurting here,” Ciel replied obliviously, bringing a hand to his back and pointing where it was tender. He just didn’t want it to stop. He felt so at ease, so relaxed and the newness of belonging had him euphoric.

The demon hummed, not trusting his voice with any syllables; even the simple sound he made had been rough and awkward. He snapped his fingers for the hellhound, muttering something in a language the boy did not understand. It was quiet between them while Cerberus went off in search of what he’d been ordered to obtain, and Sebastian hoped that maybe, just maybe Ciel would fall asleep.

But he didn’t. His pretty head came up when he felt the beast return and reached out to touch him after Cerberus deposited a misshapen clump of whitish fat at his master’s side.

“What’s that?” Ciel asked as Cerberus licked his hand.

“A special kind of beeswax you can only find here,” Sebastian answered gruffly. “It’s going to ease your shallow wounds.”

“How?”

“I’m going to melt it in my hands, and coat you with it,” the demon said as if it were obvious. At least, it was a cure-all where he was from. The wax provided a sealant, strengthened devastated skin.

Ciel frowned, listening to Sebastian. He’d heard from other omegas that alphas enjoyed tormenting them with hot wax. It was meant to be erotic, but often, it simply left burning scars upon their already over sensitive skin. “Is it going to hurt?”

Taking the question a little personally after all his resistance that evening, Sebastian huffed. “No, master. I’ve done my best to unintentionally hurt you. Why would I go out of my way to do so on purpose?”

Ciel said nothing in response as Sebastian broke a large chunk off the beeswax and made a fist around it. It was oily and fragrant. It smelled of musky honey with rich floret facets and seeped through his fingers, dripping onto the boy’s back.

The omega sighed. It was warm, not hot, and sent chills up his spine. “I like that,” he crooned.

Sebastian gave a wolfish grin, engrossed by the drops falling onto Ciel. Were they onyx, it would resemble something else entirely. As it was, he shivered, imagining Ciel’s pearly essence splashing against his own skin. It made him anxious to drag his fingers along the melted wax patina, to spread it across Ciel’s flesh. It shone in the moonlight like opal and did not coalesce or harden the way normal wax did, fueling the demon’s fantasy to a dangerous degree.

The more Sebastian’s fingers worked themselves along Ciel’s vertebrae, the more the boy woke and became acutely aware of every nerve fiber in his body. It felt good, great, until it wasn’t enough. Until he didn’t only want Sebastian’s fingers on him. Heat flooded from his back to between his legs and he squirmed beneath the demon to find some relief, his slender hips rolling into the soft moss under him.

Sebastian noticed the boy’s assumed discomfort right away, and lessened the intensity of his treatment. Having never administered this kind of care to no one before, perhaps he’d done it all wrong. He raised to his knees and slid down to the boy’s thighs to give Ciel the freedom to move should he want it. “Is everything alright?” he asked bringing his hands up, saturated in snowy melted wax.

“Yes…” Ciel uttered throatily. “Does that stuff taste bad, Sebastian?”

It was an interesting question, and having never had the inkling to consume it before, the demon couldn’t be sure. Bringing his finger to his mouth, he wrapped his lips around the digit and gave it a quick suck. “No, it tastes like nothing actually. Why do you ask, are you hungry? I can fetch you…”

“Don’t leave! Just, would you mind…” Ciel trailed off, blushing so hard, he felt his embarrassment light up his ears and neck.

Sebastian was intrigued by the boy’s supplication. What had he not given him tonight that the boy may have wanted? “Yes? Anything. Just name it.”

“Would you mind kissing my back?”

Sebastian’s stomach bottomed out. All his hard work this evening to be undone by six words uttered by the prettiest creature in all of creation. “Of all the things you could ask for, omega…”

“You did say anything...”

“I did,” Sebastian agreed, lowering himself between Ciel’s legs so that his mouth was poised over the small of Ciel’s back. He slid one hand under the omega’s soft belly and kept his other at the boy’s hip. His lips were coated in the white substance as they pressed themselves against Ciel’s spine, tongue lingering there several long moments, licking up the wax.

A moan escaped Ciel as pleasure quivered down his body, and encouraged by the sound, Sebastian mouthed his way along the rest of his back. He’d lied. The wax alone was flavourless, but mixed with the dewy sweat accumulating along Ciel’s spine it was rapturous. He smacked his lips, kissed the skin so hard he thought he would raise a blister. By the time he reached the boy's neck and without meaning to, he began to rut himself into Ciel’s ass and the latter did not thing to dissuade it.

“Master, you taste so good,” he breathed along Ciel’s shoulder, biting down softly. He wanted to break the skin so badly, to tear off the boy’s undergarments and sheathe himself completely inside the tight, slick hole that he was practically shaking. But he didn't. He reigned it in by some miracle, concentrating only on Ciel's hammering pulse against his tongue as he bathed the omega's scent gland in wet heat.

Ciel's instinct screamed at him. Rocked his body with tremors and he clamped his own lips shut. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, he wasn't supposed to want to beg a demon to claim him, to breed him. He wasn't even near his heat -- or so at least he thought. No desire to nest, no fever, no going out of his mind. Then why?

“Ciel…” Sebastian crooned, fisting the omega’s hair and kissing every available surface previously covered by it: his throat, his jaw, behind his ears and as he yanked the strands back even more, his forehead and nose. He pushed down his appetite, tried to enjoy the act of kissing, and were it not for this very specific omega, he would find it no more gratifying than the bland sensation of putting his lips to the skin of an apple before eating it. But this was so much more. It was an actual language spoken into the flesh, one whose answer was a curse that weakened the demon and made him feel vulnerably human.

“Turn me over, Sebastian,” Ciel ordered, voice at once raw with need but pure with want.

The incubus did it without hesitation. Flipped the boy onto his back, let fine twines come up from the moss and tangle themselves around Ciel's fingers and wrist over his head. And though it was unnecessary, Sebastian pinned the boy down as well, having not once removed his mouth from the omega's body.

He devoured him this way, one kiss at a time, from chin to Adam's apple to clavicle to sternum. Would that he could spend an eternity doing it and never grow tired. “Ciel…” Sebastian mumbled into the boy’s flesh again. No other word did him justice like his name. Ciel. Heaven. Paradise. Elysium.

“S-Sebastian…” Ciel answered the demon’s call, arching his small body into him, squirming and bucking his hips. His cock brushed up against the incubus’ and a choked whine escaped his lips. He wrapped his ankles around Sebastian’s to stabilize himself and he rolled his hips up, up, up, trying wantonly to grind into Sebastian's hardness. He felt it again, hot and sopping through his undergarments and he wanted more. More of that feeling. More of that friction. More heat. More fire. More devil. “Kiss me. Kiss my mouth,” he panted in puffed breaths, his tone imperious and unforgiving in its demand.

The shadow on the incubus’ hands sprawled to his elbows and spurs ripped through the skin behind them again. The same happened at his heels and the omega quickly removed his ankles from them with a hiss of pain through his teeth. The subtle smell of blood would have been more potent were the feast of sex and flesh not so imminent.

Sebastian’s claws emerged, digging into the mossy soil beneath the boy’s wrists and he licked into the heat of the omega’s mouth. He growled, low and feral as his sharp forked tongue nicked the inside of Ciel’s cheeks, then strangulated the boy’s wet muscle to let it soak up the crimson liquid coating it deliciously.

Worst of all, Ciel wasn’t resisting and the proof was in his honeyed scent. Yes, he was struggling against his restraints, but not as a means to escape but in a desperate desire to touch and mar and leave his mark on the demon. The little thing moaned as Sebastian’s fangs sank into his plush bottom lip and when the incubus’ horns emerged from his head, piercing the flesh, his own blood ran down his face and mingled with Ciel’s. Regretfully, he pulled away and sat on his heels between the boy’s thighs.

“Have you no sense of self-preservation? We can’t do this omega!” Sebastian chided, wiping his master’s blood and his own from his mouth with the back of his darkened hand.

Writhing upon the dewy earth, Ciel’s eyes were glazed over with a silver sheen of reflected moonlight. Set against the contrast of the shining orb overhead, the omega had noticed the demon seep from Sebastian’s skin and it only further enticed him. He wasn’t an alpha, not with all the adornments befitting Hell’s royalty and this made him all the more desirable. “Sebastian… Please… touch me.”

Ciel’s whining and thrashing reminded Sebastian of Finnian’s heat, but in the absence of any other indicator, it could not be. He almost wished he were back in that simple bedroom, watching Ciel tend to the other omega again; he would be less jealous, less uncertain of himself than he was at the moment. For once in his pitiful, gluttonous life, Sebastian didn’t want to be an incubus. Why couldn’t he have been born of a jinn, a fallen angel or a vampire? At least that way he could be sure Ciel wanted him for him, and not because of some spell of lust his very presence put his unsuspecting victims under.

But Ciel has his own brand of magic too, Sebastian could feel it. How else could he succumb to the little omega every single time? Not only when he'd been starved, but even when he'd been fully sated, sitting in class, watching Ciel doodle on a scrap piece of paper, sitting next to the omega's bed, watching him sleep, through the kitchen window as the boy had breakfast with his fellow orphans… There was not a single moment since he'd been in the boy's presence when he did not want him in the carnal sense.

And now he wanted him every other way too.

“Fine,” he gritted, resigned to give the boy anything he wanted, as he said he would. He straddled his lap again and tore the boy's undergarments from his body with ease. His pretty pink cock fell out, stood proud and eager, dripping as it filled the demon's senses with longing instead of hunger. He gripped it in his claws and meant to be firm, to not allow the boy to sense his self-doubt, but the moment he closed his hand around it, he was tender. His thumb brushed the pearls that wept from the tip, smearing them along the flushed, glistening head and down, down as he stroked the omega's length.

Ciel arched and gave a cry. Twines broke and reknotted themselves as he jerked frantically, needing to touch Sebastian, to hold him close and share his breath. His hips twisted under the demon, then they bucked and twisted some more. “Sebastian… untie me,” he pleaded.

“No.”

Ciel's head came up, and straining his neck he saw the horned deviled-godlike creature fondling his member, squeezing it as he brought his hand up and down. Sebastian's red eyes cast a ruby haze upon it as he watched intently and because Ciel so desired him, wanted to be connected to him, he perfect maneuver of skin on skin was lost on him; it was so impersonal, so detached he wanted to just come and have it done with. Allow the temporary release claim his body and let the incubus have his brief respite from hunger.

Ciel closed his eyes, and became aware of Sebastian's slight uncoordinated movements. And it repeated itself, again and again, like he was slamming his wrist against something on the way down. And so he was.

Sebastian's cock was strained so painfully against his school uniform that it practically caused a wardrobe malfunction. The seams had loosened in some areas and gave way altogether in others.

Perfect.

“Incubus, take out your cock, stroke them together,” Ciel gasped, “I want to feel you.”

“No.”

In a contradiction to his response, Ciel felt the grip on his length loosen and the rhythm falter all the same. “But… I want you, Sebastian. I won't… touch… or move… I just want to feel you with me.” And true to his word, he stopped struggling, stopped writhing until all that was noticeable in terms of movement was his heart beating hard against his ribs, making his pulse points spike.

All this time Sebastian had been wrong. It wasn't in sin that Ciel was most beautiful. It was now, beneath him, with their desires mirrored. The incubus had fed off hundreds of thousands but he had never felt so much a part of another, so exposed and fragile, even despite his innate power to devastate and destroy.

Sebastian tore both button and fly from his slacks, inched himself forward and held his cock against Ciel's. He wrapped a fist around them both and blew out a ragged breath.

“Fuck,” he moaned, sliding his hand along their lengths as his hips pumped forward. He swore again in a deep, broken voice, his gaze never leaving his master. And bless Ciel for trying his best. For shaking with the effort it took not to buck his hips up, for holding on to his own wrists over his head, for even trying to temper the way his muscles flexed and contracted in anticipation in his flat belly.

Sebastian's hand surged and slammed back again and the pressure only increased.

Ciel made small mewling sounds, his lips pressed together as his eyes rolled back.

“Let me hear you, little master.”

A tortured sound burst from Ciel's throat, and while the demon refused to consume its vibrations, he did acknowledge it with a growl of his own. He spit onto their members, stroked them harder, let his saliva ooze from between his fingers, along with the black, gummy fluid that trickled from his own inflamed cockhead. It made Ciel’s more sensitive, made it swell, and when Sebastian smeared the combined substance sloppily over the omega’s mouth, the boy’s lips broke apart, eager tongue darting out to taste it and he gave a keening wail.

“No, no, no… we can’t have you doing that, Precious,” the demon tsked, breath erratic.

Undeterred, the boy disobeyed by crying out again, and a creeping vine tore through the moss at Ciel’s cheek, arched over the boy’s face, and nestled itself forcefully between his lips like a gag that wrapped around his head. His tiny teeth bit into it hard, he still moaned, but otherwise retained his sanity.

“So pretty like this,” the demon praised and Ciel’s eyes smiled at him before disappearing altogether in his head. Sebastian leaned forward, large hand still fucking them both and planted a series kisses on the greenery at the omega’s mouth. From behind he felt Ciel’s knees come up and part and his feet dig into the earth; the boy was losing his fight with self-control and the incubus loved it. Wanted to push him further.

Another vine secured the boy’s his midsection, two anchored his feet. The demon grunted, gasping in Ciel’s face, the movement of his hand becoming more irregular as he jerked them off faster.

“Look at me,” he commanded the little thing in an inhuman cadence. And Ciel obeyed just in time for Sebastian to see his eyes go wide as another silky, firm vine wrapped itself sinuously around the omega’s thigh and teasingly nudged his entrance.

“Hnngh… Mmm…” Ciel whined, cock stiffening in the devil’s grasp. He was ecstatic for the intrusion, if it could not be Sebastian’s fingers like in the dreamwalk, he was grateful for just about anything else in his current state. He let his shaking knees fall, and as his thighs spread apart, the flexible vine curled on itself and penetrated his slick little hole, worming its way deep inside by increments. It pulsed and surged, in and out, spattering sweet, viscous fluid from his tight, clenching channel every time it twisted and plunged back in again. It impaled him, rocked him, filled him, bulged his belly. He arched his back unsuccessfully, and the demon clung to him with his free hand.

He was overwhelmed, overjoyed, overstimulated. Every single one of his physical needs were met but one. He so desperately wanted Sebastian slamming in and out of him and soaking the ground beneath them with sweat and syrupy strings of slick. He knew Sebastian wanted that too and that he’d sacrificed his own pleasure for Ciel’s safety touched him.

With every choking, heaving breath he took, the omega moaned a murmured more against his gag. His body spasmed and thrashed as the vines thrust into him forcefully. Sebastian’s face hovered inches over his own, brows furrowed, lips drawn back from his fangs in carnal pleasure, his hand gliding with savage speed over them. Ciel felt it as if it were instantaneous. Both members convulsed, their wet, smooth skin now painfully rigid and hot.

Sebastian cried out guttural and predatory, dripping with sweat over his master as he released their cocks, and painted him in spoils of black, inky semen, while he himself was soiled in the omega's silken warmth.

They breathed harshly together, asynchronously. Ashamed, Sebastian could no longer look Ciel in the eyes. This was all the incubus could really offer the omega without hurting him. Intimacy without participation. Unreciprocated physicality. And he hated himself for it. Ciel deserved better than to be fucked the way he’d been.

Before any of it cooled, he lowered himself onto his elbows, hid his face in the crook of Ciel’s neck and inhaled him deeply. The vines at the omega’s belly, feet and bottom retreated and when Sebastian came up, looked at at his master, his eyes imploringly regretful, no words passed between them. It was probably for the best.

He let his tongue wash Ciel, their combined taste mingling beautifully on his tongue, and he was only aware of Cerberus making his way forward when he was directly at his side, curious as to what his master was lapping.

Sebastian growled, low, feral and possessive; he wasn't about to share, least of all with him. Ciel took pity though and called the mutt over with a wiggle of his fingers, bound as his wrists were.

The hellhound licked them affectionately and chewed carefully through the twines to release the sleepy little thing. Ciel sat up immediately, rubbing his wrists and yawning.

“Are you quite ready for bed now, omega?” the incubus grumbled.

“You were the one who needed to massage me,” he teased, getting to his feet gingerly.

“Hmm.. when you say it like that Ciel, it's not likely to ever happen again,” he warned playfully, picking the boy up and walking towards the large fig with him, both of them still naked to the night. He bounded once, sat in the comfortable, familiar knot in the largest branch like he'd done for hundreds of years and leaned back with the boy in his lap.

Ciel turned on his side, nuzzled Sebastian's chest and by the time the incubus counted to ten, the boy was asleep. He kissed the top of his pomegranate scented hair, then brought his wrists to his lips and kissed them fondly as well to undo the damage of his failed restraint. As he wrapped his arms around Ciel, Cerberus gave a plaintive howl and the incubus hushed him right away. “Let him sleep, he's exhausted. He'll play with you tomorrow.”

Cerberus glared at his master when Sebastian ushered Ciel out of the forest the next morning, claiming they'd slept in and were already late for school. Lucky for them, nobody was outside when they climbed through the window and in under five minutes they were out the door with Finnian and a piece of cold toast.

“How do they expect us to do anything with our brains after what happened with Bard… That test today in algebra… I'm not ready for it, are you?” Finnian asked Ciel, while the latter had his nose buried in his book. If it wasn't for the incubus, he would have fallen at least half a dozen times already, having tripped over his own feet.

“Would I be cramming right now if I was? When did we even learn any of this?” Ciel complained, flipping through the multiple examples they'd done in class. He didn’t acknowledge the Bard comment. To be honest, he didn’t care that the alpha was gone. It would be one less person he had to deal with, but he knew voicing such an opinion might make others suspicious. “Do you already know this stuff, Sebastian?”

“Me?” Sebastian asked innocently. He'd been taken somewhat by surprise, having not expected that question. In fact, any question or comment that had been directed at him this morning had been met with a jolt. He was drained, not from having slept very little because his kind could go years without it, but because inadequacy dogged him for a solid six hours, sapping him of his energy and debilitating his usually unwavering confidence.

How did humans even live with their shortcomings? How were they not obsessing over them every minute of every day, because surely they had a lot of them. Even Ciel, who was as close to perfection as any individual could be, cared too much for others and not enough for himself, and seemed to function perfectly well on a day to day basis.

“Unless there’s another Sebastian nearby, then yes, you,” Ciel mocked in what he thought was his closest approximation to the demon’s smooth accented tone. He gave him a small, amicable punch on the arm to show him he was kidding.

Sebastian felt the blow, and continued to feel it well after they got to school. It was so unlike the omega to be carefree with his affection, at least in the time he’d known him and in what he’d observed through the eyes of his dead brother. This coquettish Ciel completely unsettled him.

They were lined up outside of class when Sebastian leaned in to whisper in Ciel’s ear, “I don’t feel so well right now, so I’m going to skip class.”

Ciel looked at the demon, dumbfounded. He narrowed his eyes, searching for evidence that collaborated the incubus’ story, but Sebastian looked… like Sebastian. Gorgeous, nonchalant and unconcerned by anything going on around him. Except for his eyes. they were dimmer than usual, but having no knowledge of demon ailments, he simply shrugged. “But we have a test…” he trailed off, knowing the results would be inconsequential for the incubus. He hoped Sebastian caught the trepidation in his voice.

“I know,” he breathed against the omega’s ear, reassuring him, “I won’t be far.”

Ciel gave him a curt, albeit confused nod, bid him goodbye and Sebastian turned away from the senior class. The bell rang, and the hallways were chaos, which suited him fine because he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary for once. He took the steps to the upper floor two and three at a time until he turned the familiar corner that led to Ciel’s locker. They hadn’t gone that morning at Ciel’s suggestion, but Sebastian though that there might still be evidence there to help him figure out how much more time he had before she came along to ruin everything for him.

As expected, the mess had been cleaned up, but to demon eyes it was still a disaster and would be for weeks. The mops and towels had merely smeared the invisible essence and the residual energy the body gave up upon its death. Yesterday, the bloodbath had been contained to Ciel’s locker and two square feet of floor just under it, and now it spanned most of the hall.

He wondered what had caused her to stop, for clearly she had not finished her feast, and once an incubus began to properly gorge themselves, it was near impossible to put an end to it. In Hell, incubi and succubi were known for their feeding frenzies, the likes that humans knew sharks to partake in. It was never pretty and usually only ended when nothing was left.

But she had somehow stopped. Or had someone stopped her?

He left the scene of the alpha’s grisly death and let his feet take him back to the only place he wanted to be: next to Ciel, to keep him safe. Upon arriving at room 115, he sought the omega through the glass set in the door. His desk was empty and he was nowhere to be seen, though his belongings were still there. The demon swallowed hard, and came into the class unceremoniously loud and all eyes lifted from the respective copies of the algebra test.

“Mr. Michaelis, you’re late for your test,” the teacher told him, annoyed and clicking his tongue, “fortunately for you, I’ve been given this note to pass along, so you’re excused.”

Sebastian left no sooner, nostrils flaring as he scented the hall for his master. His eyes scanned the nearby atrium to his right, and the staircase to his left. Had Ciel gone that way, he would have met him. He unfolded the note and relief washed over him when he recognized the elegant scrawl.

Sebastian, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but you after last night. Meet me in Sister Francis’ special room so we can… try again.

So Ciel had felt it too? His remorse? His need to be with his master without fear of hurting him? Of course he had. Clever boy. Perfect boy. And so the demon took off in the direction of the dungeon, and he was so eager, his feet almost didn’t touch the squeaky parquet floors. Ciel’s scent was stronger the closer he got and when he finally reached the office and turned the knob quietly, poking his head inside, he was assaulted with a tart, fruity scent so potent he could taste it.

He licked his lips and shut the door behind him. The shelf had already been moved aside for him, more than necessary, but he chalked it up to Ciel’s attention to detail, clearly, the incubus would not have fit in a space large enough for the omega. He didn’t bother with lights, and yet, it was darker than even his demonic eyes could manage. He did notice that the deeper he went, the less like Ciel it smelled. Pomegranate had been replaced by rust and rot, stenches that had not occupied the space the last time he had been. He heard no sound, felt no presence, and so he turned on his heel to go back upstairs when he felt something hard, and sharp collide with his head and neck respectively. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was being leashed, muzzled and dragged away from the stairs.

Chapter Text

Sieglinde took a knee at the bottom of the ancient steps that led to the ornate throne, under cover of an elaborate fiery ciborium and bowed solemnly. She half expected the sleek, searing prongs of her father's bident to come down and rid her head clean from her body. She grit her teeth, held her breath and screwed her emerald eyes shut. Waiting. Hissed as the heat from the baron arsenide that was Hades’ favoured alloy scorched her exposed neck, felt some of the sweat dripping from her nape evaporate before it could collect in the dip of her prominent clavicle and cascade down her soiled garb.

It was not the death she had hoped for: without glory, without vindication, without fire raining from the Heavens, surrounded by the thousands of valiant, infernal corpses she had led into battle. This was a punishment for her perceived failure. This was akin to being sent to Asphodel Fields to toil with less-than-ordinary souls for the rest of eternity.

Ha! Her. Royalty and military prodigy laboring amidst the mediocre, mindless mortals who achieved so little greatness in their lives that it made nary a difference to anyone, much less themselves that they had even died! This was a fate worse than Tartarus. It almost made her snarl in indignant protest, but she kept her silence.

And for what? A thankless half-brother who hid like a bastardly coward from his bride-to-be? Send him to drink from the River Lethe, at least then he would have a reason to forget his engagement to the succubus!

But no, she held the course. It would do nothing to snivel like a yellow-bellied demon before Hades, would not demonstrate her worth or strength. He would remember her gutlessness, replay it for all to see when the time came for him to retire and appoint a successor that was not his firstborn.

The breaths she refused to take stretched on like years, and an infinitesimal puddle of her own blood and perspiration stained the red-carpeted floor where she clutched the underside of her brass knuckles so tightly that her elongated claws dug into her alabaster facade and tore into the quivering flesh.

Hades rose from his throne, removing his bident from the charred flesh of his most trusted strategos, pleased by her willingness to at once be at his mercy and to display a stoic countenance. He strode down the steep stone steps, the long toga woven in thick bands of molten lava that barely concealed his deific physique trailing behind him like a stream of fire and brimstone. With every footfall, his attire shifted and glimpses of hellfire so hot it seared blue broke through, spitting flames that lapped at the exposed skin low upon his hip, and glinted off his bare chest. Twisted plumes of golden smoke caressed him like frenzied lovers, and he moved them aside with a lazy flourish of his hand, so that they steadied the young demon’s chin before him and tilted it forcibly upwards, giving her no choice but to look at him. He watched as she squinted, the shimmering haze from the heat that surrounded him distorted his distinct appearance so that none but the lover he had taken at Pholóē Oak Forest had ever truly seen him.

When he spoke, it wasn’t in the booming voice one such as the Ruler of the Underworld was thought to have. It was soft and honeyed, commanded the attention of every being in the vicinity, alive, dead or something in between. If Helen of Troy’s face had launched a thousand ships, it was Hades’ voice that had lured them all to certain death. The dulcet tone, while superficially pleasant, held in it a menace so profound even the giant architectural pillars of the Throne Room trembled.

“You are dismissed; but know this daughter, you are expendable,” Hades warned, summoning two of his guards: Tartarus nymphs with the bodies of fierce wyverns, svelte torsos and heads of beautiful women. They hoisted the petite girl up to her spiked heels and escorted her to the double doors when the god called out to her in a firm whispered threat. “If you present yourself empty handed once more, it will be for the last time. You understand, don’t you, Sieglinde?”

She did. The Lord of the already overcrowded Underworld did not want his hands dirtied with her blood. Instead, he would take the promise of Elysium away. And even what had seemed like a fate worse than death mere heartbeats ago -- Asphodel Fields -- would be stripped from her grasp. She would be exiled from the vast lands of her home altogether. That left...

She stiffened, shuddered a curt nod to her father and found herself unceremoniously deposited in the atrium. The doors slammed shut behind her with a ringing finality.

“Damn it all!” she swore under her breath, making eye contact with her second in command who’d been staunchly waiting at the doors this entire time. He seemed relieved to see her whole and rushed to her side, placing his large, sturdy hand to quench the still smoking, singed flesh upon her neck. It hissed like a kettle brought to boil, and wincing, Sieglinde felt it blister, pop, burst and re-blister again. She waved him off and moved away, unable to conceal the stinging in her bright green eyes.

Normally, Wolfram’s touch would have been enough to soothe and repair any damage, but wounds inflicted by Hades’ bident could not simply be magicked away, even by such a compelling, high-ranking demon. This would leave a filthy scar once her father eventually decided she’d suffered enough for her inadequacy. It was yet another reminder of her half-brother’s incompetence and disloyalty to his kin.

“You did not tell him?” Wolfram chided, following on her heels as they walked silently towards exit. He was tempted, as he was always tempted, to pick her up and carry her like when she was younger. And though her stature was still childlike in some ways, none in Hell could boast more than she about intellect, cunning and killer instinct. “He’s hidden in vain sight in that damned forest of his!”

Sieglinde pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. The slight strain it put on her injuries was enough to smart and contribute to an even fouler mood. “It’s plain sight, Wolf, and are you questioning me?

“Apologies, my Lady; but if you don’t mind me saying so, vain also works for your miserable louse of a brother,” he commented, turning the corner and looking over his shoulder as he did so. They passed row upon row of busts on elaborate pedestals belonging to Medusa’s most notorious victims. He had asked his superior once where their bottom halves had gone, and Sieglinde had smiled and merely told him that she would be more than happy to demonstrate if he was ever discovered betraying her. “Aren’t you worried at all? You can’t trust a cock --”

“A cock?”

“Yes, that. You know they crow at daybreak? That’s him, when he’s excitable -- that smell of his... he might as well be screaming for all the world to know.”

Sieglinde turned on her heel, held onto to Wolfram’s forearm and let out a peel of laughter that echoed and ricocheted off the walls made entirely of the crystallized hearts of saints. “Not a cock, you absolute Koalemos. You’re mixing your languages again.” She could scarcely breathe for laughing. All she imagined was her brother in his full naked glory and his phallus making the most annoying sound imaginable to rouse nearby harlots. “You mean rooster -- coq in French. And don’t worry about the scent. It’s only strong to us because we know where to look.”

“And how long will it take her? She’s very familiar with him. What if she finds him first, my Lady? What will happen to you if your father discovers you knew all along?”

Sieglinde considered Wolfram’s words, chewed the inside of her cheek as she appraised him. His hard face was set in a scowl. Three thin lines formed across his forehead, and while they usually announced his worry, they seemed more profound today, as if someone had taken a chisel and etched them deeper. He fixed her with his rigid, lapis blue gaze, and had they not known each other for centuries, she would have mistaken the lowered eyes as a glower rather than as a sign of respect; in fact, the stare would have made a lesser demon than herself wilt. What he’d suggested wasn’t a thought she could afford to linger on, not if her plan of removing Sebastian from the throne was going to work.

“I thought I told you to shave your sideburns,” she teased, disregarding his queries, “it’s unsightly.”

Wolfram plowed on, knowing full well he could be reprimanded for his insubordination in ignoring her pointed comment to change the topic. “But, my Lady, why not take care of the problem ourselves? We know where he is located? He has no army, no defense -- at least none comparable to our own? Why do you insist on putting your neck out for him this way?”

“It matters not. It’s near impossible for anyone to access the forest,” Sieglinde said in a hushed tone, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. Still, the walls of the mighty palace had ears and the busts had eyes. She felt them narrow in on her and she took the giant of a man by the sword holster that criss-crossed the front of his barrel chest and led him out into the oppressive heat of the Underworld's scorching black star.

“But didn’t you say once that there was a way?” he whispered, allowing himself to be dragged down the stairs across the desolate, rocky terrain that spilled into the Wailing River. There, they could scarcely be overheard above the howling laments that emanated from the stagnant stream that enclosed the underworld.

The full force of Sieglinde’s smokey, dark green eyes pierced him and a coldness that contrasted the sweltering climate washed over his flesh and rose the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck. They searched him, squinting, long lashes practically concealing her glimmering orbs. What was lurking there? Suspicion or trust? Doubt or confidence? Perhaps he was simply paranoid. He imagined her seeing past his armor, past the hardy demonic exterior and making out the lurid shadow creeping behind his eyes, thirsting for knowledge. She never missed a single thing, how could he have convinced himself, allowed the witch to convince him that this was a good idea? He stared back, mustering all the deference he felt towards her, for that was what had driven him to disloyalty, what had forced him to put aside his century-long obligations and the sacredness of his duty.

“Swear to me that you will not repeat a word of this,” Sieglinde commanded, grunting as she drove her spiked heel into the skull of a yowling revenant who’d crawled from the Wailing River in an attempt to latch itself to her.

Wolfram took a knee before her, grasped the oozing, rotting cranium and extracted it from the boot without shifting his gaze from hers. “I will not repeat it,” he responded guiltily, hurling the revenant among its kin into the river. The flames that danced on its surface swallowed up the offering with a hiss.

“So yes, there is a way to access my brother’s forest. Three requirements must be met: knowledge of an exact entrance, a sacrifice by the embodiment of lust and an enchantment that was passed through the womb. You see now? As if the first two requirements aren’t difficult enough, the last one is damned near impossible to access. My brother is safe for the time being -- as long as he doesn't go blab the enchantment to anyone," she concluded, with unmistakable finality in her tone as well as the hint of an ‘I told you so’.

“I understand,” Wolfram said gravely. By the tilted axis of the black star overhead, it neared the time of their departure.

Sieglinde followed the trajectory of her second-in-command’s eyes and gave him a curt nod. She turned to leave, expecting him to follow. “Well then, we’ll be leaving for Shanghai. I believe this is where the incubus has been spotted last.”

The presence inside Wolfram became restless, willing him to end this senseless exchange. It rattled him, expanding and contracting, buzzing like an angry swarm of locusts; and when he still made conversation, pain jolted through him, shot centripetally, not unlike the force of a black hole so that he found it hard to push a breath past his lips without shuddering. He was thankful to not be under her scrutiny for the time being. “Yes, my Lady,” he responded evenly enough, though his core shook with the effort it took. “Were you responsible for that tip, or have you asked one of your entourage to glamour itself to bear the Prince’s resemblance?”

Without so much as a backward glance, Sieglinde waved goodbye and gave a hardy laugh, sidestepping the gnarled, decaying hands straining to grasp her from the dirtied river shore. “Clever. I’ll see you in a few minutes by the entrance of the portal. Do not forget your cravat; you’ll be posing as my manservant this time.”

An uncontrollable shiver that did not belong to him spread across Wolfram’s lips. His eyes strayed, darting left and right nervously to make sure his commander was out of sight. Just then, a shrill, numbing voice echoed in his mind. “You did brilliantly. My mistress will be pleased.”

Wolfram’s eyes shut as darkness surged down to his feet and a vaporous shadow spilled on the ground, appearing flimsy at first, but then taking on a more turbid shape that mimicked his own. If the damned thing had been strong from within, it was nothing compared to when it was free, as it was now, capable of strangulating the proximal heat, of crushing bedrock where its immaterial body stood. Wolfram wondered how it would fare against his adamantine swords. How did one go about slaughtering a shadow that was a formidable foe even in cover of darkness?

Now that it was apart from him, he became resolved that it would not sense his mounting trepidation. “So long as you remind the succubus of our oath. Take the Prince, but leave the Lady of the Underworld out of this. If a hair on her sacred head is so much as out of place after this affair, it is you that I will come after.”

A ghost of a smirk broke across the shadow’s face and it gave a small, condescending bow before slinking away into the turbulent river. Its inhabitants writhed and wailed with such renewed agony, that the soldier went rigid on its banks.

Some souls were dragged to the Underworld for the sins they’d committed, while others were escorted to be taught a lesson. A certain Italian poet who shall remain nameless and considered himself kind of big deal in the fourteenth century, was such an individual. His slanderous epic poem insisting that some beatnik Christian fallen angel took up residence there and cried himself a lake of frozen tears had plagued the kingdom of Hades for nearly half a millennia!

Rubbish.

From then on, newcomers suffering from the sultry heat specific to the Underworld often inquired about the lake dubbed Cocytus, so that they might visit and pay respects to the demi-god who’d managed to create such an oasis at the center of a veritable wasteland. Their miseducation had become a blistering thorn in Hell’s administration. As a result, the poet’s punishment for his lackadaisical defamation was to stand at the side of a rocky basin where Atlantis had resided until it had been relocated and fill the hollow with his own tears to see if his own cold indignation to this treatment could freeze Hell over.

To Sebastian’s knowledge, the long-faced, aquiline-nosed man was still trying.

It would be a lie to say that the idea of a cold place in Hell hadn’t intrigued him. He’d even spoken to his father about it, pleaded his case saying it would help boost morale amongst working-class demons and had the potential of increasing productivity in areas such as torture, toiling and even judgement. His appeal fell on deaf ears.

As usual.

“Wait until you’re King, then you can implement that hogwash,” Hades had told him. It was likely the only appealing thing about taking the throne.

Still, Alighieri’s idea had never left him, not really. If he wasn’t daydreaming about getting himself off, filling a tight hole and spilling in and out of it, he was likely thinking about laying spread over a layer of ice, relishing the frostbitten sting of cold into his flesh moments before it turned into a pool of tepid water beneath him.

Which was how he felt now. Chilled, but not unpleasantly so. For all he knew, he could have been outside or in some vast cavern in his forest. His skin tingled with tiny pinpricks of hurt as the damp, cool air laved his flesh. He made to stretch his arms to luxuriate, to let the dewy frigidity cover every inch of his exposed skin and stopped short. He tried again, but could get no further than some inches from where he began. The same was true of his feet, of his torso and neck. Ankle chains clanked on the stone floor and their echo bounced off the walls, but instead of the sound distancing itself from him, it merely came back. So not a cave. Not the outdoors.

A smirk claimed his face and he took his bottom lip between his pointed teeth. Now that he was more aware, he was conscious of the bite of holy heat blazing his skin about his wrists where the manacles held him in place. Not everywhere of course; remnants of his school uniform seemed to be intact. His dress shirt had been unbuttoned, which was why he felt the searing strap over his diaphragm but not his biceps. He was without pants, that much he was certain, for a band of leather pinched into his upper bare thighs where it had been secured too tightly to the massive chair where he was restrained.

“Clever boy,” he muttered, lips moving, but no sound was produced. He cleared his throat and tried anew; this time the words came out garbled and incoherent. He couldn’t locate his tongue properly to wrap around the syllables, couldn’t move his jaw as he wanted with the strips of thick hide splayed over and down his cheeks.

“Master?” he called out feebly. He heard it in his head, but wasn’t sure if static wasn’t the only thing to materialize.

Why was he so weak? He vaguely recalled following the crisp, complex scent of the omega into Sister Francis’ office, of coming down the steps… then being hit over the head.

He groaned, his upper lip pulling up in a slight snarl. The blow had been unnecessary. He would have tied himself up willingly for the little thing had he so much as hinted that he’d wanted to claim his incubus. But this was more than just some concussed befuddlement; beings such as he weren’t generally affected by a physical strike, not one the tiny little omega could dish out, anyhow.

This was something more. He couldn’t concentrate. He could hear breath but not distinguish to whom it belonged: himself or another? He was intoxicated. Light-headed and drained. He could feel his blood flow in sluggish pulses, the room spinning behind his closed lids. If his eyes weren’t so heavy, he could open them. But no, not now, not anymore. He couldn’t be bothered. Not when rolling waves of heat pushed his legs apart and settled between them. He made no attempt to resist and tipped his head up, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“M-master,” he sighed, and this time he heard it with his own ears. It was slurred, drunk.

Hot, smooth hands clad in latex, ran up his shins, his thighs, kneading him, stirring his arousal. He bucked uselessly upwards, held mostly in place by the bindings. His member throbbed, the ache heightened by his frustrated inebriation.

His mouth went dry as he swallowed, toes curling against the concrete floor and digging divots into it. “Suck it, you cocktease,” he ordered without force, without shame, without preamble. “Put your mouth on it, little coward. Do it now, or so help me if I get out of this and you haven’t, I’ll fuck your throat raw, little omega.”

He knew he shouldn’t be saying such things to the one he was meant to protect, but the boy had asked for it. Had woken his most primal urges.

A surprised breath was pushed out onto his length and he shuddered. Strong fingers gripped his hips and a wet muscle stroked his shaft. He growled low at the back of his throat, imagined the omega licking up to the tip and lapping the dark, sticky substance drooling from the slit, then eagerly feeding it to himself until his mouth was full.

It was torture not moving, not forcing himself in. He thrashed, he whined, he moaned and still the mouth had done nothing more. He wanted tongue and teeth. Wanted Ciel’s tears spilling onto his thighs, his gagging sounds filling the room. “Stroke me, you filth, you pathetic virgin.”

“Finally,” a hoarse voice purred before jabbing him hard in the flexing abdomen.

The incubus hissed, grunted and curled in on himself to avoid another sharp stab. He tried to blink his eyes open, but they felt stuck, like tar had been holding them together. His long lashes pulled at one another and some parted company with the sensitive ocular skin. He managed a wisp of a crack, could barely make out the tall figure knelt at his feet as it swam before his eyes.

Not Ciel. Not his master.

No sooner than the realization hit him, a thick miasma filled his nostrils. He coughed and sputtered at its cloying familiarity, but his lethargic mind could not determine its origin. There were notes of alpha stench, of religious promiscuity, but it also carried the stain of home.

While he lacked the attention to prepare himself, another sharp prod to his body forced a breath out from between his clenched teeth. Painfully, his eyes flew open and he registered the dozens of puncture wounds on his legs, his hands, his arms, his abdomen, most of which bore splotchy alabaster bruises already. How long had he been unconscious?

A black, shiny gloved hand reached out for his face, grabbed hold, did not touch his skin, but rather the muzzled cage that held it. He bared his teeth to the individual, spitting as he snarled.

“Aww… adorable, useless mutt,” Sister Francis cooed, stepping away from the incubus, silvered syringe and misty vial in hand. Hungrily, she pressed the glass container to her lips and upended the tip. Her tongue dug into the vial, folding itself, darting in and out to beckon the blackened haze. When none seemed left, she stuck her finger inside and licked the remnants off her digit.

“Oh, yes, that tastes much better when you’re properly excited. You’re the first incubus to pass through here, Prince, did you know that?” the nun announced, smashing the glass onto the floor, where it joined its kin.

By Sebastian’s estimates, there were no less than thirty such vials. Her bare feet crunched over the shattered mess as she traipsed away to the other side of the room in search of another tube. He saw blood pool onto the floor, trail behind her, but she didn’t so much as wince or cry out as it cut into her flesh.

No less than thirty vials.

Was it any wonder he felt so light-headed, so depleted? She’d been stealing his essence, to what -- feed herself? It explained why she was so strong, why she was in possession of this dungeon, but not why the alpha needed demonic sustenance. Her starvation was nearly palpable, how had he not noticed sooner?

Still a little dazed, he struggled vainly against the cuffs clamped on his wrists, tried to pull his back away from the overlarge chair to which he was bound. It groaned and lamented against the floor, but didn’t give an inch. The chains rattled cacophonously and joined her squeal of delight.

“Don’t bother. You know you can’t get out of those. You tried last time with that little imp, didn’t you? You both left your stink in here for days.” Emotions shifted on the nun’s face with the speed of her words; from a playful smirk to wrinkled distaste. It gave the incubus the impression that she’d been possessed.

“Who are you really?” Sebastian blurted, heaving from the meager effort that had been required to test his bindings. At this rate, he was at her mercy, with no one the wiser. Not even Ciel knew…

“Where’s my master... I smelled him before… before coming here...” He meant it to come off as menacing, but the words were uttered under his breath like an asthmatic.

Sister Francis simpered. She tucked three vials into her cleavage and strode back to the demon. Inside her, the alpha howled and sobbed, said her prayers like a good catholic whore, begging her non-existent god for help as she had done for a decade since she took over for the last headmistress. She felt every hurt, every shard of glass entering her foot and splitting the skin open. Felt the incubus’ venom spread in her veins like tea tendrils in boiling water. But to the demon tied up and secured, all the woman looked like was sex.

As she neared the bound beast, she saw him appraise her devastated habit. His pupils dilated, the crimson vertical slits widened in the blacked out irises and bore nothing but ruthless savagery. Hands trembling, she smoothed the skintight, glossy synthetic garb that sat just above the apex of her thighs and straddled him.

A thunderous rumble sounded in the incubus’ chest. He refused to acknowledge the vulgar look upon her face, focused instead on the inverted crucifix that hung around her neck and lay on the swell of her ample bosom. His body went rigid as the rubbery fabric brushed against his length. He grunted, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the chair’s arms, began shifting his hips restlessly, trying to remain rational, to override centuries of instinct to feed, to ravage. It was a difficult feat to accomplish when he was coherent, much less now that the already thin line between needs and wants was blurred beyond recognition.

Sister Francis discarded the pins that held her hair back and her locks tumbled in waves over her shoulders. “Look at me,” she lulled seductively, grasping the demon’s hair by the roots and pulling back.

Sebastian shook his head defiantly, pinched his eyes shut. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, pressed up on him as she was. Felt the heat radiating from between her legs, where she hadn’t the modesty to put on any undergarments. Her faint musky, yet palatable scent made him heady with reflex, not desire. His arms flexed, his torso twisted, but he could no more buck off the nun than he could ignore the burning ache in his gut. A keening whine like that of a tortured soul in hell escaped his lips as starving urge was unseated by frustrated longing. He wanted this. Needed this. Could order it. Demand it. Tend to me. Worship me. Offer yourself to me. Omega. Omega. Omega.

“No,” he growled, looking up at her from beneath his lashes, face contorted with fury and revulsion. “Not you!”

Ciel could taste caked blood on his fat bottom lip and when his hand came up to touch the pulsing warmth centered on his right eye, he winced, splitting the cut on his mouth and spilling blood down his chin.

“Mmmmn… ugh…” he grumbled, and the sound reverberated in the wardrobe where he lay in a crumpled heap. Painfully, he blinked and saw light coming through the small crack at the bottom where the doors met the floor of the storage unit that was kept in front of the dungeon passage.

He’d been called to Sister Francis’ office mid-test, something about Finny not feeling well and needing someone to take him back to the orphanage. He remembered smiling as he handed in his paper, his friend had seemed well this morning, so this was likely some elaborate ruse to buy them more time to study. He’d had to remind himself twice not to skip down the hall or to be modest in his scent for fear someone might catch a whiff of happy omega.

The office was empty once he’d reached it, with no Sister Francis or Finny in sight. He sat in the chair directly in front of the desk, the one that overlooked the campus where he’d seen Druitt stumbling along the path some days ago. A frisson rocked his small frame and he tried to shut it out of his mind. He was better off now and he had no time for regrets. The same went for Bard. He had nothing to do with his end, but he couldn't deny that all this death and gore was directly linked to his summoning of the demon.

He barely heard someone walking into the office and only had the chance to turn his head some degrees before it was slammed hard upon the desk. He cried out, both in shock and pain and caught a glimpse of the nun.

“S-ister Franc-uss?” Ciel jabbered, only part of his lips moving with how his face was smothered against the desk by a large gloved hand.

“Not exactly,” she tittered.

And his head had been slapped against the hard surface again. It’d happened so fast he’d no time to shout for help or to even register if distress could be picked up in his scent. And given he was here now in the cabinet, ankles and wrists bound rather than out there with the incubus, it was likely his mistreatment hadn’t even reached Sebastian.

Quietly, because he didn’t know if someone was standing just outside the wardrobe, he fiddled with some difficulty at the poorly trussed knots binding his legs together. The holy cincture at his wrists came off just as effortlessly when he bit into it and tugged with his teeth. It seemed too easy. Could the wardrobe also be unlocked?

Ciel nudged the door from the inside, slowly, carefully. It gave under his pressure but when it creaked, he blanched and let it fall back into place. This, he thought, was as good as an alarm system to anyone paying attention. Still, he wasn’t locked up and nobody had come to see if he’d gotten free.

The cabinet groaned when he moved his bottom to a less numbing position and that’s when he knew he had to do something; he was a sitting duck if he stayed here. Swiftly, he pushed both doors open, stuck his feet out first in case he would have to defend himself, and when he didn’t, he stood, shakily like a colt coming up for the first time.

He put one foot in front of the other, walking on the tips of his toes. His legs felt deadened, detached from his body as they strode towards the desk. He leaned against it for support, spotting the clock overhead. Some four hours had elapsed since he’d been summoned to the office. From through the door, and in the hall, he heard students transitioning to their next class. Fifth period. He’d missed lunch and his stomach gave a reflexive growl. He shushed it and almost smiled; he wondered if this was how Sebastian felt ninety-nine percent of the time.

Sebastian.

How had the demon not noticed his absence in four hours? Ciel’s gut reaction was to imagine Sebastian standing just outside the door to the office, waiting to congratulate him on escaping his transgressor; the bastard seemed to enjoy watching him flounder from time to time. But this was too much. A swollen and cut lip? A black eye? He’d not have let that kind of injury befall his master if he were in the capacity to have stopped it.

Ciel put his hand to the door, not exactly worried that something might have happened to the incubus, but he was at the very least curious as to what had kept him. The handle click-clicked a couple of times but did not open and he let it go just in time to hear a faint whistled snap and a helpless groan coming from behind him.

“What the --” he whispered under his breath, following the source of the sound. He hadn't noticed how askew the wardrobe had been when he'd stumbled out. It had been moved away from the wall, and at an angle just large enough to allow someone passage into the basement.

Ciel cast a glance over his shoulder to the locked door and then down the ill lit stairs where he heard the familiar condescending moan belonging to his demon. Confusion reigned and a sudden sense of betrayal flooded the little omega with bitterness. That explained it: why Sebastian had left him in his class, why he hadn't come to fetch him, why he'd been knocked out by the headmistress… He knew the incubus was irresistible, but after all he'd said, after all they'd done, he thought that maybe…

He ought to go, ought to leave Sebastian there too. Ciel could crawl out the window, the drop wasn’t so much that it would shatter bones; it was a mere story from the ground. But with his luck he would land all wrong, break his spine and be paralyzed for life! That’s usually how things went for people like him, right? Find a nice individual who wasn’t an alpha (okay, so he’s a demon), start learning to trust him (a demon only after sex), believe all the bullshit talk of precious (a demon only after sex with a romantic side...) and bang! Heartbreak city.

The idyllic let down fueled a superficial petulance, it hurt less to feel like a lover scorned rather than the winner of an unrequited love game. With his esteem quickly crumbling and every negative thought he’d held of himself coming to the forefront of his mind, he was gripped by a sense of perverted curiosity. What did Sister Francis have that he did not, other than a hyper-feminine body, an incredible amount of power and sacrilegious appeal? He frowned at his menial list; and that was just to start…

He snorted to himself, ashamed and inadequate and let his feet carry him to the topmost step. His empty tummy roiled and his face screwed up as he sat on his bottom and silently made his way down, one step at a time.

“Come now, Prince, don’t be so bashful. You were nice and hard just a half hour ago.”

Prince? How did Sister Francis know about Sebastian’s true identity? Unless they were already much closer than he assumed them to be. Ciel descended another step, still unable to see anything due to the obstruction of the outer wall built onto the staircase.

“That wasn’t for you Sister. It was for my master.”

Sebastian’s voice sounded like his vocal cords had been scraped along heavy sandpaper, but that fact alone did not distract from his words. The demon hadn’t put him from his mind. Even like this. Even here.

The weak jangling of chains, the snap of leather, and the tearing of fabric followed by a stuttered hiss was enough to break the omega’s concentration. His rear bumped another two steps and his eyes peered over the barrier that was tall enough to conceal him enough for the time being.

Sebastian was there, eyes closed, head supported by his shoulder, the rest of his body chained to the large chair with little to no range of mobility. He wore his muzzle as well as an assortment of cuts and odd bruises. Ciel could make out the slightest rise and falls of his chest. The sight of the usually strong demon in such a vulnerable state unsettled him, made him feel small.

“We’ll see if we can’t fix that,” Sister Francis said, hitching the bottom part of her habit so that all Ciel saw was her shapely ass as she mounted his lap and pillowed Sebastian’s cock between her cheeks. She ran her tongue over the incubus’ bare skin at his neck, licking the wounds she’d inflicted, shuddering and reveling in the sensation of her lips on his flesh as she gyrated her hips against the demon’s length.

Sebastian’s fingers twitched, but otherwise he didn’t move. Even his legs were limp, splayed as far out as the chains would allow them. Ciel didn’t know if he was resisting anymore, or if he’d simply been depleted of whatever energy he had.

The omega tasted bile, rust and salt in his mouth -- a combination of nausea and the force of his tiny eye teeth gnawing on his tongue. He watched silently as the nun pulled away and ebonized smoke curled and undulated from the open gashes at the crook of Sebastian’s neck. Sister Francis wound the vapour around her finger as though it were silky threads and fed them to herself, stuffing them greedily between her lips with her gloved hands.

“Ugh, you’re delicious. No wonder she wants you home. She knows where you are, Prince, you know that don’t you?”

“Then w-wwwhy…. why hasn't shhh---” Sebastian slurred in what sounded like utter intoxication.

Ciel came down lower, crouching on the bottom step and had half a mind to attack the holy woman from behind, but as he was about to put his foot down, he caught the glint of glass scattered over the cold concrete surface. Damn. That would complicate things.

“It's not time yet, your Highness,” Sister Francis mumbled, holding the grate of the muzzle back as she sucked marks into the incubus’ throat.

Ciel’s fists curled tightly at his sides. Sebastian’s head wobbled in the nun’s grip and he feebly attempted to open his eyes, as if he could smell the omega in the vicinity. And if he could, the nun might as well. Ciel reigned in his temper; Sister Francis was right, now was not the right time.

“Wha she wai-- aiting for??”

“Optimal betrayal. She doesn't want to drag you back kicking and screaming. You'll come back on your own.”

Ciel’s possessiveness renewed itself at the repeated mention of this she. Who was coming for his demon? To whom did he belong if not for his master?

“Not likely,” Sebastian’s voice broke as the nun forced his head back, subjecting the wound she’d been so eagerly tending to an elongated tear. Ciel’s palms came up to his eyes to block the sight out; the fact that Sebastian had made no attempt to scream or cry out spoke to his weakness. “Sssso now what? Y’have yer fun wit me?”

Sister Francis pulled a long, deep breath through her nose, inhaling Sebastian’s essence. “Yes. Only for a while. You see, you’re the first incubus to come through the doors of this institution. In the last three hundred years I’ve been here, I’ve had familiars, some drudes, demons of fate and a few spectra…”

Ciel saw an agonizing spasm cross Sebastian’s face. The omega felt impotent in the face of what to do, his eyes skimmed the room, looking for something he could use against the nun. Clearly Sister Francis was something more than she had claimed to be, so it would have to be effective. To get to the knives, he’d have to cross the room and put himself in her line of vision. And he didn’t want to go back upstairs in case he’d be caught.

“What’re you? A scavenger?” the incubus stammered as a semi-opaque black liquid dripped from his nose and eyes and ran down his cheeks. It oozed from his ears, meandered a path past his neck, collected in the shallow dips of his collarbone and spilled over. The blurred discoloration left behind resembled ancient scripture and if Ciel weren’t so pathetically human, he might be able to decipher its meaning. He wanted to reach out, run his finger over every complex motif and symbol as he would letters in a book, but smudge them so that nobody else could discover the incubus’ secrets. The demon belonged to him and none other.

The omega’s own eyes became glossy with frustration and he felt a different wetness upon his face. This was like watching his brother’s slow, excruciating demise all over. He ran his hands in his hair, pulling the ends maniacally, mentally tabulating the best route to reach Sister Francis. He could pick up some of the glass, use that as a weapon… but all he had was the element of surprise, and if that failed, he was likely to be the one with it in his throat.

“I’m an exile,” the nun responded curtly, lapping at the viscous soot seeping from the incubus with a contented purr, “your father saw to that, after Persephone’s death. It seems indifference to a jezebel’s death is a punishable offense.”

Sister Francis laughed. Her admission seemed to hit the incubus more than any of the damage she’d inflicted so far. He had physically recoiled from her touch as a result, but being that he was in his current state, it had been for nothing.

“This is the only way I can survive, Prince. I lure you all here, you see? Anyone with the flavour of home will do. You can’t understand the toll it takes to be away so long; perhaps one day you will and it will make you sick to your core, maybe a little mad…”

If Sebastian wanted to respond to Sister Francis’ monologue, he must have been incapable. Ciel heard the crunch of teeth in flesh and bone before he saw the demon slump under her weight.

She reared her head like a beast as she ground her ass into his lap, rubbing herself against his member. “I take and take and take and do away with the remains the same way you did Druitt. But don’t worry, I won’t with you, your Majesty; you’re special. My pawn. My bargaining chip. If I show the King who I have, sooner than she can claim you, he’ll have to let me back in.” Her hand released the shortened whip she’d been grasping and fumbled to her backside in search of his length. It took very little effort to find the sizable mass, and despite the fact that it was already stiff and rigid, the incubus seemed to derive no pleasure from it. She stroked it firmly, breathing cooed words to the demon, telling him to wake up, to be more appetizing.

He didn’t so much as tremble.

And Ciel snapped. Forgot he was a five foot nothing omega, that his bones were breakable and his blood, limited. He stalked her nonetheless, ignoring his brain screeching at him, his instincts pleading for him to run the other way.

The quarter million years of ingrained survival instinct that had been passed down generation after generation was nothing in comparison to the drive to possess and covet and protect that which was...

“Mine!” Ciel growled, crossing the dungeon floor unhindered, grabbing fistfulls of her long mane and pulling her back onto the floor.

He hadn’t thought further on how to incapacitate her. All he wanted, needed was to make sure his demon was alright.

He wasn’t. Not even close. Now with Sister Francis out of the way, Ciel saw his body, pilfered and punctured like he’d been feasted upon at a Dionysian surfeit. He was bruised and discolored in the way that was contrary to humans, where the worst of his damage had become waxlike and spectral to the point that it nearly glowed translucent, revealing a fine latticework of nearly depleted wispy channels that carried his energy.

Ciel whined, his fingers barely grazing the incubus’ knee in reassurance when he was thrown off his feet and pinned to the dank, musty floor.

“Omega,” Sister Francis chortled on top of him, her hand clasping his neck like a tourniquet, “you got out.”

Hot, involuntary tears flowed from his eyes and Ciel croaked, “Wait.”

He could never overtake her, not even with all his ire and hatred for the thing inside her. By some miracle she did not snap his neck, likely because she fancied playing with him, dragging out his pitiful failure. He was relieved of the crushing pressure and was instantly gasping for air, trying to deny the vertigo that resulted from an abrupt influx of blood to the head.

“You have a minute, speak, you wretch.”

“I… I have a proposition for you…" he panted, wheezing, his brain frantically working out the details of a half-assed plan.

“Forty-seven seconds…” she counted, but by the lift of her cheek, Ciel could tell he had her attention.

“Sebastian won't ever give you what you want, because I am all he wants.” He let that truth sink in between them, confident in the rightness of the words he spoke. She glared at him, her eyes blacking out completely with the devil behind them. “Do you understand? He wants me, not you; and the fact that you haven't taken over my body yet, tells me that you need to be invited, is that right?”

The nun-entity form bowed its head in a nod.

“Then I'll grant you permission, under two conditions.”

Sister Francis’ impatience was tangible as she held him down by the wrists, securing her weight over his legs. “What are they?” she spat.

“He's dying; let me feed him,” he said, and a very real burst of nervous energy twisted in Ciel's guts. This was not the way he'd have wanted to give himself to anyone: with an audience, with impending failure, with a non-consenting participant.

“The other?”

“You’ll not interrupt or engage with us,” he warned firmly.

“I cannot agree to the second. You know what he is… what his ecstasy will do to you… to me…”

Ciel had been sure for all of two short breaths that the demon would abide, but upon feeling the tremors in her legs, in her hands, he became doubtful. Were they fearful or excited? She came down and licked his face from chin to jaw to ear and whispered something foreign in his ear that he didn’t have a dream of understanding. Whatever it was, she released him soon after and helped him stand. She pushed him towards Sebastian until he stood between his legs. From behind, she unbuttoned his school shirt, loosened his tie, breathed hot onto his neck and traced her nails down his fluttering belly to the buttons of his trousers.

This was giving her too much power and he would go no further until he knew for sure that she agreed to his terms. The problem was, even if she disagreed, he would have to give her full reign to save the incubus. He had no other option.

“I'm willing to take that chance,” he spoke firmly, hands over Sebastian’s on the armrests. “Now, do we have a deal or not?”

Chapter Text

The perception of desire varies.

For some, it’s intricately tied to hunger: a gnawing, ever-present, insatiable void. A black hole, depthless and unfathomable in its greed.

For others it’s a fire: a flicker to a flame to a blaze that becomes torrid, violent, all-consuming and seeks to destroy everything that dares stand in its path.

For those whose tastes lean towards the sadistic, it’s fear: an adrenaline that floods the system, that beats hard, mimicking the clumsy footsteps that try in vain to escape, only to exhausts itself. The kind of terror that eventually leads to despair and hopelessness.

But for a spirit who’s been exiled from home, it’s everything that isn’t alienated desolation: attachment and intimacy, loyalty and devotion.

The former had a distinct scent: it smelled of home, a redolence of kin, and the unmistakable stench of desperate covenants forged between lesser beings and devils. At present, the only thing that lingered between the omega and the incubus was possession, but without a trace of dominance or ownership.

Peculiar.

Their relationship was not that of contractor and contractee; certainly there was fidelity there, even fondness, but the little thing was not the incubus’ master. The nun grinned, serrated teeth on full display despite herself; she wondered if the boy knew. If Sebastian was not owned by the Phantomhive orphan, to whom did the Prince belong?

“Well? Do we have a deal, spirit?” Ciel asked, tearing his eyes away from the depleted mess of an incubus before him to glare at the guise of Sister Francis. “I’m running out of patience.”

“It’s more likely you’re running out of time, little omega,” the spirit simpered, reaching past the small thing and pushing Sebastian’s head back. It fell forward again of its own accord, limp like a spent prick. “But I understand your concern. Do you love him, Ciel?”

“No!”

The nun laughed, throaty and seductive in the omega’s ear. “That was answered a smidge too quickly, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ciel protested, trying to unfasten his trousers one-handed. The spirit-nun wasn’t wrong about the direness of the situation. “It’s just… he’s just…”

“Yes?”

Ciel’s mouth went uncomfortably dry, his tongue quickly feeling thick and clumsy. “Shut up, just… get inside me already so I can get this over with.”

“You’re so naive. Once you start, you won’t be in control anymore; you know that don’t you? He’s like an arachnid, this one, a stunning silver argiope… but instead of being lured, you’ll come willingly, drawn to it irresistibly by his charm, his scent, his silken voice. He’ll wait there for you, watch ravenously as you spread yourself for him, slick yourself, present yourself, call to him with wanton madness to feast on you raw, but he won’t; not yet. He’ll bite you and wrap you up, bite you, envenom and defile you and bite you again. And do you know what you’ll do as he devours you, little one?”

The omega shuddered as the nun’s hot breath stirred the small hairs of his ear. “What?”

“You’ll beg for more.”

No he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t allow it. He would make a conscious effort to not call out for the incubus, to not scream or beg or cry. He wasn’t some spider’s prey. Wasn’t it proof enough that Sebastian was the one always pursuing him? Craving and imploring him? “We’ll see about that. Now stop stalling.”

The Francis-spirit snorted derisively. She pulled his trousers down and allowed him to step out of them. He looked adorably virginal in his little shoes and knee-high socks. She could definitely see the appeal he held for the incubus and thought maybe, it would not be so bad to inhabit his lithe form for a while, especially if he managed to survive the Prince’s rapture. If not, the nun could always be possessed again, since she’d granted the exile access once before. “As you wish. All I need you to do for me is lie.”

“Lie?” Ciel asked, holding firmly to the shirt he was still wearing, though it was unbuttoned. He wanted some modicum of modesty if Francis was still going to be in the room.

“Yes. That’s how my kin get inside,” she smiled and her eyes flashed at the mention of her kin. The pseudologi had more or less all been exiled from Hell for their lies and deceit; but they could barely be blamed for it -- it was in their nature after all. She’d yet to come across any of her brethren, and feared she might be the last.

Ciel wondered what lie Francis had told the spirit to gain access. Regardless, he found himself perplexed; to be told to tell a lie on the spot reminded him of the same pressure one felt when asked to tell an impromptu joke. “I… I don’t… know…” he stammered.

The spirit turned the boy’s head to face her, chin captured in her gloved hand, as his body faced the incubus and she smirked at him. “Just say you don’t love him again. That will suffice.”

“But I don’t!”

Before Ciel could protest anymore, Francis’ body fell lifelessly onto the floor behind him and much the way jealousy and pride lay heavy on the heart, so does the denial of love. It was no surprise to the omega that this was the way the spirit chose to enter. He clutched his head where an ache pulsed hard, felt it hammer and numb like a new bruise, until it found a normal rhythm again.

He felt her everywhere, swimming in him through the intricate network of veins and arteries; her wanting for the Prince as potent as an aphrodisiac. He breathed ragged, pushing breath after breath from his lungs, hoping that it would somehow expel her.

No such luck.

She locked herself down inside him and her presence was a more intimate audience than Francis would have been. He could continue lying to himself and repress his feelings all he wanted, but she would know, and the very thought of that made him feel tainted.

A force from within surged and pushed him forward towards the incubus. Ciel caught himself on Sebastian’s abdomen, face inches from it and swore internally at the spirit. “I told you not to meddle,” he grumbled.

You need to hurry.

“Thirsty bitch,” he slurred out loud, but he was sure she could read his mind all the same. It just felt good to say it.

Sebastian simply sat there slumped, and it was not like when Ciel had peeped a look at him while they’d slept in the Rusty Fig tree. Gone was the playfulness etched in his statuesque features; even in slumber, a crooked, teasing smile had claimed his lips. He was not warm with the flow of moonglade under his skin, did not darken his limbs as a result of his restfulness -- a feature the omega was sure was the incubus’ true form that he tried to hide from his master. In truth, he was all the more fetching for it. In repose, Sebastian was still lust personified.

Not now. If it weren’t for the slight elevation that Ciel detected in his chest, the omega could swear he was dead. His flesh was rigid, chilled and clammy, the spirit had defaced his natural allure with lacerations and puncture wounds, bruises and bite marks. Pain had bound itself to Sebastian’s face, strained and savage when he’d lost consciousness.

The omega steeled himself. “Right then,” he spoke to no one. Perhaps he didn’t have to go all the way. Maybe just a bit of stimulation would be enough; it had been in the past, though he’d never seen Sebastian so roughed up.

Despite everything, the incubus’ cock remained hard, stood proud while the rest of him was in a sorry state. Ciel grasped it firmly mid-way, his hand trembled at the lack of response so he gave it a squeeze. Nothing. Keeping one hand on Sebastian’s knee, he moved the other up the shaft to the demon’s glans and back down again, trying to ignore the soft, silk-like texture of the incubus’ foreskin. It in no way sent shivers down his spine, the sight of his small hand unable to wrap itself around the girth did nothing to bring heat to his omegan belly. At this slow, gentle pace, he could retain his sanity, if only the spirit inside him would shut up.

Do it faster. He can’t feel this.

She was right of course. So he did as she said, pumping the incubus’ dick more vigorously, felt the uncomfortable friction of it warm his hand, and without preamble, spat upon it. And again. Never losing pace. Made it slide through his fingers, wet and ropy. Twist as it reached the head and slam back down to the base. His hand jerked up and down in a natural rhythm, eyes never once leaving the incubus’ unaffected face. He wrung and choked the drooling cock, spit on it some more and when his hand cramped, he growled and used his left instead.

It’s not enough.

“I know that!” he countered, getting to his knees on the cold concrete floor between Sebastian’s bound legs. Already, his back was killing him having been hunched over like that, and he’d done nothing of consequence. He was frustrated, at the spirit, at the incubus, but took it out on the latter with a smack to his dick. “Wake up, you fuck.” The tip of it went white momentarily with the force he put behind the slap, before it became an angry blackish-red colour again.

Maybe you should…

“Maybe you should shut up, and hold your end of the deal.” For once there was no response and the room was as quiet as the last rays of sun kissing the pomegranate orchard behind the orphanage.

He stroked Sebastian’s member absentmindedly as if he were petting an obedient domesticated animal, at a loss for how to further rouse him. He searched the room; there would definitely be something here -- he was in a sex chamber after all. The answer lay next to his feet: Sister Francis’ unconscious form in her habit and all its accessories. Stretching to the side, he fingered the rosary beads and slipped them from around her neck. He also didn’t hesitate in pilfering the largeish crucifix that fell from the nun’s pocket.

Not usually a praying omega, Ciel at least hoped that the demon might be motivated by pain, rather than deterred by it. He wound the rosary around the base of Sebastian’s member like a tourniquet, compressing it so tightly it began to fatten, keeping the flow of blood steadily in the shaft. It throbbed in time with the incubus’ faint pulse, growing angrier by the omega’s quivering breath. Ciel eyed it hungrily, lips moist from his own tongue unwittingly licking them as he swallowed the excess saliva that filled the hollows of his cheeks. The fingers not clutching the beaded chaplet pressed against the swell of Sebastian’s hardened sac, then cupped them. A generous handful -- not surprising given the size of him. He squeezed and the faintest, involuntary grunt passed through Sebastian’s parted lips.

A feeling, heavy and dizzying washed over the omega. He breathed hard through his nose and gave the tiniest of laments. He felt carnivorous, like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, months! No, he wasn’t hungry, but thirsty -- mouth dry, sticky and completely desiccated. His throat itched with a scraping, burning titillation from larynx to abdomen and he was sure if he didn’t relieve it, he would go mad. And yet, he couldn’t -- to assuage it would require him to claw out his windpipe, to release the incubus, and he refused. Instead, he brought the hardened arousal to his neck, rubbed the mass over his bobbing Adam’s apple, the slippery head poking and prodding him, but it wasn’t enough. He continued under his chin, his jaw, a swath of gummy pre-ejaculate soiling his skin. He smelled it, the heady, sweet substance and it positively intoxicated him, made him lightheaded. He seized the rosary in an unflinching grip, twisted it sharply with a flick of his wrist, then held the beads in his hand to move them up along the pulsing shaft.

It was purely accidental when his tongue brushed against the flared corona of the head, and it might still have been unintentional when he wrapped his lips around it, had it not been for the fact that he’d growled softly at the back of his throat when he did. And really, it was too late to stop once his mouth sank onto it, moving in the direction of his hand as it dragged the beads back down.

The rounded little pearls dug into Sebastian, leaving painful imprints and indentations into the soft flesh of the rock hard cock as he jerked the demon off. They rolled against palm and shaft, caught Ciel’s bottom lip when hand and mouth met, then as if he could no longer resist, the omega gave the heated member a subtle suck and tonged the little beads playfully.

A spurt of Sebastian’s precum spread over the omega’s taste buds and he moaned involuntarily around the length. He came up the shaft, continued to use the rosary to escalate the mounting sensation of his handjob, and flicked the angry, spongy head with sloppy kitten kisses.

Ciel’s own dick jutted between his legs, aching and neglected and he wanted nothing more than to stroke himself, and he nearly did when a soft hiss of pleasure sounded in his ear. Glancing up at Sebastian from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, he took in the slight perspiration that seeped from the incubus’ pores along his temples. Ciel huffed and groaned as he hollowed his cheeks, swallowed and rocked his slender hips forward into nothing. His breath came soft and slightly laboured, ragged and needy when he first felt it: slick trickling from his hole.

Hunger kicked in, as if channeled through the incubus; Ciel’s limbs quivered, and his thighs weakened under his own weight. The throbbing of Sebastian’s cock beneath his grip grew hotter, thicker. His slick hand moved effortlessly now, ignoring the pain as it fisted up and down the shaft at an even pace, then more quickly as the sound of squelching and even more spit added to the omega’s eagerness. He sucked it greedily, bumping his mouth with his hand, and Sebastian’s eyes flashed open but for a moment, revealing a crimson glow glazed over with pleasure.

Ciel had no choice in the matter now; he would need to fuck Sebastian -- not because it was likely the only way to bring him back, but because he himself needed it, wanted it, his nature demanded satiation and none other could do it save the demon.

D-don’t, the spirit warned internally.

Too late, Ciel’s fingers freed Sebastian’s arousal, and the rosary hung limply off the base, dangling Christ’s cross between them. Still breathlessly feeding himself Sebastian’s cock, he felt the slicked up lubricant weeping from his entrance drip onto his calves and he delved a finger between his own cheeks, finding his fluttering hole easily. He teased the pucker with the pad of his fingertip, whined as he pulled off Sebastian’s cock and leaned his face against the damp erection.

You can’t. It’ll kill us both.

“Sssso… I don’t care,” Ciel mewled as he breeched the hole and avidly fingered himself. He recalled Sebastian’s tongue filling him, fucking him, how he’d bounced upon it in the lab, how good it had felt. The spirit inside him purred and wailed, spread through him despite her fear. The omega’s head fell against the incubus’ flexing belly when a second finger joined the first. He thrust them in deep (thought it wasn’t deep enough) and scissored both digits.

Deeper...

He tried. Stuffed three fingers inside himself, licking the prominent vein at the underside of Sebastian’s cock. He wasn’t aware of doing it, perhaps it was the spirit, but he reached for the large crucifix at his side; at least it was longer, thicker. Swiftly, he inverted the cross and crammed the holy relic into his hole where it was swallowed up. He wept into the incubus’ lap, tears of desperation, of appetite and addiction as he drove it in repeatedly. He took Sebastian into his mouth again, gagging as it hit the back of his throat, choking himself on the sheer length of it, spit running down the sides of his mouth and collecting at his chin.

He angled the crucifix minutely to plunge it even deeper and it slid against a sensitive spot. He panted once, twice and went rigid. Sparks raced up and down his spine as he continued to push down against the religious paraphernalia. He gave a start and a shout as an orgasm surged through him, his cock pulsing long and hard and painting the concrete floor with thick ropes of cum. He called out for Sebastian, regardless of his state, squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. His body sagged, and a reflexed tiredness took over his body.

He got to his feet unsteadily, his legs rubbery, his knees red and raw from kneeling. The crucifix fell out of him with a resounding finality as it hit the floor and it was with an achy little lament that he climbed upon the devil’s lap in his oversized chair. His arms encircled Sebastian’s neck and he rested his head on the incubus’ chest. Under his ear, he heard it, felt it, a mad thumping, the static sound of blood forcing its way out of a heart. He smiled weakly.

Finally.

Ciel didn’t have the energy to reprimand the spirit, to remind her that it was her fault they were in this position; whatever reserves he had left, were meant for his… his demon.

He righted himself, pillowed Sebastian’s cock between his warm, moist cheeks and rocked against it, without allowing penetration. The incubus stirred minutely, frowning and sniffing the air between them appreciatively.

“Hey…” Ciel faltered, still winded, “I know you’re in there somewhere.” He grabbed the muzzle by the bold wired cage covering Sebastian’s lethal mouth and gave it a gentle shake. There was a distant rumbling that sounded from the incubus’ chest; he seemed less dead, and more lost to a deep slumber. It was simply a matter of waking him now.

“You have to do better than that,” the omega teased, pushing himself back onto Sebastian’s dick to force it down, it slid against his slick and had him rolling his eyes back despite the fact that he was still recovering from orgasm. “You want to be inside me don’t you? I got myself ready for you, demon. See?”

He came up on his knees and directed the head towards his stretched hole. He knew it wouldn’t be enough; Sebastian’s cock just twitched against it, instinctively fondling the heat of it waiting to engulf him. It triggered the omega, made him fevered and his scent splayed itself like a lusting whore weaving damnation. The potent smell of deep rubied seeds, tart, weltering in sin made the demon’s nostrils flare. Ciel gasped at the spike of his heady pheromone, it coated his tongue and taunted the surrounding air. Had any alphas been around, it would have aggravated them, pushed them to dominate, to snap and pin him chest to the floor with their full body weight, fucking him into the concrete until he submitted.

He whined.

“I… I hate you…” the boy confessed under his breath, partly because he so wanted it, craved it as part of his vulnerability. He was exposed this way, unashamedly drinking in the depravity as if it were a cocktail the incubus had made specifically for him: two parts perversion, one part obsessive need. No one had ever broken his defenses, had brought out the very worst of his nature like Sebastian did.

Are you going into your heat, omega?

“N-no…” Ciel repined, bottom lip quivering, “it c-can’t be…” Vincent had made sure he never would, that he’d never disgrace the Phantomhive name by being some wanton, begging bitch, sullying their residence with his venereal stench. If anyone found out the virile alpha had produced an omega, he would would have been cast from his inner circle of gentlemen. As far as the world knew, the aristocrat’s mate had birthed but one heir and he was dead.

Ciel swallowed a moan and shook the muzzle cage again, this time taking his frustration out on it. He needed a reminder of his past the way he needed to be wasting this time reviving some hellspawn. Determined to end this, his fingers trailed Sebastian’s cock and he swiped the sweet, syrupy slick from the length. He squeezed his fingers through the wires and smeared the incubus’ lips with it. Sebastian snarled, his eyes still shut, head too heavy for his neck when Ciel released the muzzle.

The devil’s heavy cock convulsed under the omega, seeking attention, demanding reverence and worship like that of ancient gods. Ciel responded in kind, impaling himself so violently it pushed the air from his lungs; breath catching in his throat and causing him to choke. He gasped and panted, coughed and dry heaved at the sheer size of it embedded within. It filled him, stretched him, set fire to his insides. He was stalk still, teeth clenched, breathing sharply through his nose -- even this was painful! How was he ever going to-

Well move!

Ciel groaned in response, unable to utter a single word. Inside him, Sebastian’s cock burned and throbbed, sent vibrations through the omega’s willowy frame from the center-out. His jaw tightened, his shoulders tightened more; if he moved, he would shatter like brittle glass into a million pieces. But then the stinging scorch subsided enough for him to notice it - Sebastian’s length, its distinct size and shape, nestled to the hilt the way it was, rested snugly against the omega’s prostate.

“Fuuuck...” he moaned, cheek resting upon Sebastian’s sculpted chest. The omega’s spent cock hardened and as sensitive as he already was, he had no choice but to pull his rear back from Sebastian’s member. He drew away from it, slick spilling from his hole onto incubus’ lap, channel clenching, rubbing against the fat cock lodged inside. His blunt nails bit into Sebastian’s arms for support and when he neared the bulbous head, the taut biceps flexed perceptively.

“You like that, you bastard?” he gritted. He let the length drag back in; the pain was so sharp it was life-affirming, the stretch so agonizing it was pleasurable. They fit perfectly this way, the omega writhing, the Prince serviced by the subject of his affection, their bodies already glistening in the firelight from the sconces upon the walls. Another graze of the sensitive bundle of nerves, another cry; Ciel lifted his hips, opening himself up to Sebastian, this time welcoming the ache.

It might have been the spirit within or the the primitive urge to mate so deeply rooted in the omega -- whatever it was, the small thing drove himself onto Sebastian’s cock. And again. And again. His body hummed with aching delight, his voice purred as he nuzzled the incubus’ neck, desperately seeking the scent gland, laving the pale, graceful column, bouncing more steadily on the stiff appendage. He rocked atop the demon, back and forth, hips grinding against him, movements becoming bold and sure. His body bucked and heaved, his sounds hitched and desperate, his face was contorted, lip curling, nose scrunched, eyes slammed shut.

The omega’s cock bobbed and slapped against the incubus’ stomach in time with his gyrating, rocking motions, precum drooling liberally from the slit and defiling the hot flesh. Fevered and wild, Ciel tangled his fingers in the devil’s hair and pulled back harshly. “Hey! Pay attention to me, you rabid dog, I’m fucking you. Isn’t this what you wanted?” he whispered ragged against the shell of Sebastian’s ear.

A groan.

“What’s that?” Ciel asked, licking the lobe and brutally pinching the demon’s nipple between thumb and forefinger as his pace slowed to an undulating rhythm. The muscle around the incubus’ cock constricted and pulsed violently. “You weakened mutt… you goddamn brute, making your master work so hard… Do you need reminding,” Ciel panted, molten shocks of searing ice racing down his spine as he neared his second orgasm, “of… of your place?”

He stood abruptly, feet planted at either side of Sebastian’s thighs on the oversized chair, pumped himself once, twice, fist milking his length roughly and came with a shuddering, plaintive wail. Thick spurts, runny, stringy and still abundant painted Sebastian’s cheeks, his aquiline nose, his chin, dripped from the bars that made up his muzzle’s cage and dwindled onto his chest.

Ciel wanted to cry. To scream his frustrations, to hit and kick the demon below him. “Mmmm… why isn’t this working?” he complained furtively, wincing as he lowered himself shakily and sheathed Sebastian’s cock anew without a second thought.

Look!

Sebastian’s tongue, black and forked, slithered from between his barely parted lips and ran along his bottom one in a slow excruciating swipe. His head fell back hard against the headrest and the cum clinging to the cage slid gratefully onto the extended wet muscle as it lapped the metal languidly, wrapping around it, cleaning it. A sound, warm and soothing, a pleasant low hum, rumbled in the demon’s chest. Were it a sight, it would have been a blur, a flavour -- victory, a smell -- the sky, touch-- embers rather than a roaring fire. It was faint to be sure, but it was there and Ciel experienced it all.

Still bound by holy chains, Sebastian’s fingers twitched and spasmed. Slowly, the wounds littering his body knit themselves up. The lit candles on the wall flickered, ebbed and flowed with the way Ciel began moving again, hands at either side of Sebastian’s head on the chair, shallowly penetrating the incubus’ cockhead. He teased it, wiggling and circling his hips, rose and fell, rose again and slammed down with a yelp. Inside, Sebastian’s arousal swelled further, engorging, ripe and dark as it pushed against his prostate, his guts, bulging the little belly rubbing up against him. The corners of the devil’s mouth curled if only a bit and Ciel rode him faster, not letting him win. “Vile demon,” he uttered, taking full advantage of the Sebastian’s weakened state, not sure how long he would last this way or how much longer he had to steal his own pleasure.

D-don’t get co-- hah -- cocky. You’re s-still not safe.

Ciel snorted. The voice inside him was coming apart the closer to full consciousness the demon became; maybe she would abandon him altogether once that time finally arrived. Rolling his hips into Sebastian, the omega struggled with his own tie, and threw it around the devil’s tightly corded neck. He held onto it, strangulating him, using it as leverage as he bounced upon his incubus’ dick, thrashing on him, his body quivering, shaking, voice breaking as he moaned, keening needfully.

At the sound of the omega’s repressed sob, onyx pearls seeped from the devil’s eyes, wetting his absurdly long lashes and leaving winding paths on his cheeks. Sebastian blinked, dark crimson under the lids, gazing hungrily at him, a stymied film obscuring the omega from his sight. How he wanted to devour Ciel in that moment, aura burning and pulsing as he writhed. The small thing’s fingers invaded the empty space of the muzzle, to wipe curiously at his demonic tears lingering on his jaw when his tongue captured them and guided them to his mouth.

The taste of his master, stained with sweat and cum and slick sent the incubus over the edge. “Precious,” he growled feebly, lips only moving to accommodate the word. Ciel’s breath hitched, both a reaction to his pet name and the faint sucking on his digits. “Mmn… fuck me,” his head lolled to the side, biting down and tasting the omega’s sweetened blood rush into his mouth, “please…”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?!” Ciel barked, but exhaustion weighed down its severity, His movements were tired, erratic, sloppy; he wasn’t accustomed to all this exertion. Sebastian must have felt it, and though he was still regaining his strength, there was something to be said about his gentlemanly countenance when his darkened tendrils broke free from their restraint and held the omega against his chest.

Under him, Ciel could feel Sebastian struggle, hips squirming, trying to meet his own. He heard the clanking of the chains at his feet, saw a wash of deepest black shade his fingers, his hand, his wrists, up and up and up. Now numb, his own fingers were spat from the hot orifice of his demon’s mouth, only to be led up the side of the muzzle to the top of Sebastian’s head where two horns adorned it like a crown of heavy significance. His left joined his right, and he was spread below by the veiled tendrils, splitting him and driving him deeper onto the incubus’s cock, softly at first, then harder. It reveled in the heat, the creamy moisture soaking cock and tendril, and soon enough tail, which wound itself twice around the boy’s left ankle before squeezing itself into his opening.

“Se-sebastian!”

The tail snaked itself unevenly around Sebastian’s member as it fucked the boy, creating ribbed protrusions along the length. Ciel felt each and every one as distinct entities as they slid out and were shoved roughly back in. He gasped and jerked, hiding his flushed face against the devil’s shoulder, biting him, licking him, crying out his name when he came up for air.

Sebastian’s answering sounds were expected: moans, pleas, raspy and throaty. They were demanding, threatening. “More… Fuck… More.” But as they progressed, they became louder, inhumanly so. The kind of resounding pandemonium that was set at such a high frequency it rattled Ciel’s bones, made him hold onto the horns more tightly as he beared down.

He was rough with his master, excitedly so. How he’d missed this. Needed this. He took what the omega gave him, and took and took. His sticky-wet skin slapped noisily against Ciel’s, his cock throbbed inside, those tight inner muscles hugging his shaft harder than the omega’s hold. His fingernails lengthen like claws, flexing, needing to tear and ravage like a knife through hot butter. He growled, and bucked, “Filthy little omega… Ngh, yes…”

Ciel gnawed his lip and his entire body arched as his blood raced through his body, zinging along nerves and throwing him into yet another screaming climax. He felt the demanding caress of his channel closing around Sebastian’s cock, clenching and suffocating as his orgasm continued to roar through him. He closed his teeth over the ridge of tendon between Sebastian’s neck and collarbone, biting the very edge painfully before sucking the skin between his teeth instead and leaving a myriad of maroon marks.

The incubus’ reaction was instantaneous, deafening. Every muscle in his body went tense. His hands fisted, black sweat broke out over his skin, smearing and eclipsing it to its true tone. His orgasm flashed, was an explosion so vivid he lost himself in it, his need so overpowering, so violent and intense with a drive to claim the omega, make Ciel his, eat him. A knot in his throat threatened to choke him just thinking about it. His essence weaved itself through every fiber of the boy’s body, a whitewash of heat so bitterly fierce he thought there would be nothing left of him when it was over. But there was. It blanketed Ciel’s insides, filling him to the brim and when there was no space left, it seeped out his stretched and burning hole and ran down his thighs. He was soiled in blood and spit and sweat and cum and Sebastian basked like a beast unleashed in how each essence left its claim on his skin.

At a loss for breath, and feeling he’d done his due diligence, the omega came off the incubus, only to be caught again by shadowed coils and forced back upon the Prince’s still solid erection.

“Not yet,” Sebastian appealed seductively, words hardly audible in their demonic utterance, “More. More young master… You revived me, now feed me.”

Ciel gave a whine, but could hardly deny Sebastian. Not when he himself craved more, not when the spirit inside him was crying for it. He turned from him, sat upon his lap and lazily hooked an arm back to secure his position. He fucked himself on the demon, driving savagely, insatiably, mindlessly. Let himself be used as a toy, colt legs shaking, relishing in the slide of Sebastian’s fat shaft inside him, the clap of his balls against the omega’s ass as he lifted and fell, the sheen of sweat along their bodies creating a blissfully silken sensation between them.

He eyed the chafing band and chains at Sebastian’s wrists, saw the red marks cut into his otherwise healed flesh. He fingered it coyly, the pad of his digit feeling the heat from the underside.

Are you crazy? You can’t be serious!

“You want this off?” he asked, voice thick with intoxication, willfully ignoring the spirit.

Don’t!

“Precious… if you take that off…” Sebastian began, each syllable spoken deliberately with a hint of a warning, then switching to something more devilish, more insistent and enticing. “I promise to fuck you like you’ll never be fucked again.”

“Mhmm?”

No. Stop.

The omega fumbled lust drunk with the binding around Sebastian’s right wrist. The beast snarled and grunted, fought against the jangling chains and leather bindings. He jerked forward, and they creaked. He lurched violently almost unseating Ciel in the process.

“Shhh…” Ciel crooned, as if soothing a helpless animal, and the catch clicked and broke open with the force of Sebastian’s tugging.

No sooner, the incubus tore the strap from his lap and clung ferociously to his small omega, pinning them back to chest and pistoned his hips. The chair groaned and lamented, and under that, the concrete ground itself to a fine powder. The incubus’ vulgarity echoed in the basement and Ciel winced, unseen.

“Ahh… ahh S-Sebastian that…”

A large hand covered Ciel’s mouth to silence him and he gagged against it with the sheer brutality of Sebastian’s pounding assaults. He half whimpered, half moaned, and when the hand left his mouth, he was held too tightly, felt the suffocating pressure on his right rib cage and sickle-like claws scrape his tender skin, then pierce it. Blood spilled, matching the satin warmth that grew wetter with every thrust of the incubus.

Sebastian growled, starving, rasping, twisting the muscles of his abdomen, shivered as Ciel’s body clenched and unclenched and his head thrashed from side to side. Heat flared through his body as he pumped in and out of Ciel, drowning in pleasure, climbing, climbing when he heard a sob.

It was clear as if it had been been yelled directly into his ear and it broke his momentum. He hesitated, horrified and still haggered with hunger. Both feelings dogged him, maddened him. His vision shifted from deepest red to absolute black, then settled, shimmering to a sickly amber. He stuttered to a stop, retracting his jagged claws. “Sssss…” he tried apologizing through his elongated fangs. His tail fell from the boy, slid around the back leg of the chair chagrined like a bad dog.

The omega should have been terrified. Should be cowering and begging and pleading for Sebastian to stop like the presence inside him, but no honeyed ambrosia could compare to the sweet palatability that was the incubus’ pained humiliation and need. A smile broke across Ciel’s face as Sebastian’s shaky palm brushed against his open wounds. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes, rested his head and wiggled back, entwining his fingers with the devil’s and brought them to his own sensitive prick. “K-keep going.”

“K-ill you…” was all Sebastian could manage.

“I said keep going. I trust you…” Ciel rasped between moans as Sebastian’s slicked hand fondled his cock; the demon’s restraint could be felt in the rigid way he moved his hand up the omega’s shaft, could be heard in the measured breaths Ciel felt bathing his neck. He tightened his small fist around Sebastian’s and precum welled from the slit and wept along the head. “Feed…”

Sebastian’s eyes widened and spit filled his mouth. He turned the omega to look at him, so that he wouldn’t be some nameless vessel he buried his cock inside. He thumbed the pearly fluid and licked it off his fingers. “Trust...” he crooned, never so grateful to hear that word in his long life. It meant something coming from Ciel. And so he pressed on, circling his hips, grinding against the omega, then thrust into him with hard and fast strokes. It didn’t take much from where they’d left off, the omega squirmed, a panting mess peppered with yes, yes, yes . His master’s encouraging voice kept him sound of mind enough to tear his grip away from the boy and attack the chair’s armrest rather than the his flesh.

But only just.

Ciel’s hands were everywhere: his hair, his neck, his chest; he could barely focus on anything but the omega’s heart racing, thumping, erratic. With every beat it seemed to scream its existence.

He scarcely heard it when his mastered ordered it of him, his clear blue eyes darkening as he shuddered through his impending orgasm. “C-um, you beast.”

He did not need telling twice. He reached a brutal climax that left him completely, utterly helpless. His tail twitched and spasmed around the chair with each pulse of his frenzied peak, his eyes rolled back and he cried out, effectively snuffing out the existing light. Not wanting his omega to feel the spoils of their coupling had been for naught, he tore his muzzle off in one swift movement and bit down on the crook of Ciel’s neck, sucking harshly next to his scent gland, snarling against his damp skin though he never broke it, courtesy of the last of his self-control.

Wet spurt after wet spurt shot against Sebastian’s belly and he cradled Ciel’s slender waist with his devilish paw, waiting for his master to ride out his orgasm.

The omega was drowning, or so it seemed, in utter euphoria, dizzy with both pleasure and power. He’d submitted, but had retained control in the end. He swelled, a rush of pride and vindication hit him square between the eyes and made his vision cloud.

The spirit inside him cried victorious, thrumming with possessive greed and clinging to Ciel’s soul like a parasitic plant, roots firmly digging into the delicate fabric. It burrowed aggressively, consuming infinitesimal slivers of oscillating light to make room for itself. The pseudologi spread like gossip, like a falsehood ravaging the soul’s wholeness and desecrating those things the omega held dear.

Mine.

And Ciel was thrown into Hell. A Hell within an infinity of Hells. A living death. His hands flew to his head, his fingers spiking through his sweat-damp hair to grip them in a convulsive stranglehold and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

Chapter Text

The virtuous will have you believe that suffering serves a purpose: it is the teacher to the learning, the quenching to the thirst, and the cure to the disease. But in those moments of pure torment, when the mind destroys itself to flee unimaginable agony, nothing could seem further from the truth.

And the incubus knew this first hand. Knew that there was nothing more harrowing than a silent scream, because that kind of aching affliction did not originate in muscle and flesh and bone; a silent scream was the soul’s cry for help. An agony so heinous the body was incapable of accurately depicting it: a tearless sob, writhing and quavering without movement, a soundless, bloodcurdling appeal for unmerciless death that wouldn’t come.

There were no clenched fists, no pinched eyes. Ciel’s head wasn’t even tilted back the way it should be for a good cathartic scream. No, his chin was tucked into his chest as if he were screaming inwards, and indeed, he was.

Not good. Not good, Sebastian panicked. He pressed the sweat-soaked omega to his chest, subtly rocking him and humming to him in fictitious comfort. It was the furthest from what he felt as he wrapped his free arm around him in an attempt to free himself from his shackle. He struggled to stay present with the little thing; the demon was stronger yes, but his head was full of them, his captors, his tormentors. His experience with Francis had unleashed a torrent of memories he had tightly contained.

*

“You’ve been chained here for three hundred and seven days, my love, without sustenance, without stimulation.”

He heard her honeyed voice before he saw her, saw her harem of sycophants drag an ostentatious, bejeweled throne into his oubliette and place it directly in his line of vision, not even five feet away. She held the dainty hand of the most maligned one and lowered herself gracefully before motioning for another to get on hands and knees so she could rest her feet upon him. Her long raven cloak spilled from her sleek legs adorned in nymph’s hide so tight it might have been her own skin. He could see no trace of her opalescent flesh: her hands and arms were gloved in silk, her neck and considerable cleavage were hidden beneath layers of bronze-black chains and molten obsidian. Even her face had been concealed by a veil of secret sin, twilit shimmering organza draped over her horns, so that her pearly fangs glimmered through like faraway stars in the sky. She sighed profoundly, her chest rising and falling, tinkling the jewels adhered to it. When she spoke again, it was with a mixture of exasperation and fury. “Won’t you give up and marry me already?”

*

Sebastian hissed as the choker burned the pads of his fingers. He grit his teeth unlatching it painfully, and held Ciel aloft as he unfastened the strap at his chest. The small thing convulsed in his arms, body jerking, contracting and stiffening his muscles, so that even the incubus’ spent cock was aroused. Saliva accumulated in Ciel’s mouth and flowed out the sides from between gritted teeth and his eyes rolled back, showing only their whites.

Upon seeing this, Sebastian swallowed back bile; every jolt of electricity in the world surged instantaneously to his memory, jogging it unnecessarily, fraying his nerves to the very ends. His own consciousness waned, small black flashes flit in front of his eyes, flickering to and fro in quick succession.

*

A thread of satin lustre seemed to float before his right eye -- the only one not swollen enough to open -- and much the way the Nemean lion would, he tried to swipe at it, deadly claws extended, jaw set in a snarl. The force exerted by the violent movement caused his bindings to cut into his skin and produced a brutal snapping sound that could be heard by heretics in their flaming tombs four circles of Hell above. The bones in his wrist shattered -- again -- and set to mending themselves sluggishly with little to not energy to draw from.

“No more,” he implored to no one that could respond, “not again.”

The golden filament slithered teasingly to the floor and he followed it with his eye, unable to stop himself. Across the room, it rose so that he would have to stretch his neck to see, to watch. A curtain of fathomless red parted, revealing an orgy of eleven newly perished souls tangled in a lust storm. They writhed and tossed against one another in a desperate fury of lechery, bawling moans so intense their throats tore, their gaping mouths ripped part like frayed tissue, its blood marred their bodies red. They licked it from heaving flesh, biting, chewing; thrust frantically, pounding and slamming, one of them splitting open an abdomen and sucking the throbbing organ fucking into it from the inside, while others fed hungrily from the fresh release seeping from mouth, anus and cunt.

The captive prince trembled, starved and sick with desire to feed. He thrashed and snarled and screamed against his restraints, bent at unnatural angles to break them without success. He licked his lips, his forked tongue slithering from his mouth to taste them in the air. His fingers spasmed, eager to rip and grope and consume. He could see them, but beyond the curtain lay an enchantment that cut him off from scent, sound and essence. He scrutinized the way they beat against the barrier, like the crashing frozen waves of the Cocytus maiming those upon its shore and pulling their corpses into its bottomless depths. They beckoned him, mocked him. It went on for seconds, maybe years. He watched their bodies devour one another in vexatious lust, until only one of them remained, masticated and mangled atop a pile of its conquests’ bones.

He bellowed in silent tumultuousness and twisted in manic pain. Famine and want. Desire and void. They claimed him in wicked throes of agony. Three hundred and twenty-eight days. How much longer could he hold out? He preferred impalement. The Brazen Bull. The Blood Eagle. Anything. Death was a better option than ascension and matrimony.

*

Sebastian miraculously wrenched his feet free from their bindings and stood, the omega clutched to his body, slipping from his heat. He stumbled to the bed, barely aware of putting one foot in front of the other. He lay Ciel down on the cool satin sheets and fell to his knees between the omega’s.

“Master,” he finally choked out, voice heavy with regret, sure he’d broken the boy. He wanted to drape himself over the thrashing omega who turned on his side and curled into the fetal position, tangled in his open shirt, gripping the sudoric roots of the hair clinging to his face. He hovered over him, hands useless in their soothing. “Master!”

Ciel could see Sebastian as if through a fisheye lens, distorted in a stilted perspective, giving the appearance that he was much farther away than he was. Maybe that was why he could see his lips move, but could not hear a single word coming from them. It didn’t account for the mimicry of his touch. He felt the pressure, but not the heat, or at least, not enough of it to be comforting. It failed to distract him from the vexing Dionysia of distress, anxiety, anguish, grief, to break through the dark prison of his own making where he was the sole inmate struggling to escape enslavement.

He was being punished by immurment, helpless as the spirit walled him up brick by brick by brick to contain him. To permanently silence him as she had Francis and those who came before her. For vengeance. Twenty-one grams for her shameful exile, for her humiliation, for her isolation. Nemo me impune lacessit. No one attacks me with impunity, it’s what Poe had written in his Cask of Amontillado. He remembered the story well. It had plagued his nightmares -- to be confined to a coffin, he couldn’t bear the thought of it. But he hadn’t harmed her. He hadn’t harmed anyone.

*

“I’m having that bad dream again,” he sniffled, rousing his twin after having crawled noiselessly from the attic to his brother’s third floor bedroom.

His brother scooted over in his large bed and generously lifted the blanket. “Get in with me then, I’ll hold you and sing you back to sleep. I can manage to stay up a few hours so you can get back to your room before Father wakes.”

“I… I can’t. I need to go outside where it’s nice and open. I haven’t been in eleven days. I’m going stir crazy. Please,” he begged, pulling on the sleeve of the eldest twin’s nightshirt. “I’ll play whatever you want, just please.”

His brother yawned big, but got out of bed nonetheless, helping him to his feet. He looked out the bay window and frowned, “It’s raining outside. What if you get sick? What will you tell Mother?” Lightning lit up the midnight sky and thunder shook the house to punctuate his statement.

Ciel didn’t care. He could make up any excuse: poor attic ventilation, a draft through the casement, lack of proper exercise. “I won’t get sick. I promise. We won’t get caught.” He picked up the ball sitting next to the rocking chair and held it close to his body for fear it would bounce away should he drop it. “Please,” he asked again.

“Alright, alright,” his twin agreed reluctantly in a sleepy tone. He pulled his heavy school sweater with the large ‘P’ stitched to the back off the hanger of his open wardrobe and yanked it over his head. He threw a thick cardigan at Ciel and smiled mischievously, “Let’s go bare feet though, I like the way the mud squishes between the toes.”

*

Sebastian had him pinned, splayed on the wintry drenched fabric he couldn’t recognize. Of course, he thought it was the incubus, but it could be anyone, really. Ciel had blinked sweat from his eyes and when he’d reopened them, he’d lost his sight to darkness. He was alone in his mind now, his thoughts were scrambling, but the pain still clung to him like a thick strangling rope, the fleeting flashes of images like a noose around his neck.

At first it was awful. Suffocating. His mouth was paralyzed, wide open, unable to utter a single word. He didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to relive those moments he saw skirting his soul like an oppressive maelstrom made of a thousand dark tendrils. Their murky, sinuous fingers, surged forward and kept his inner eye open like antique lid locks designated for surgery. It stretched it, dug into the surrounding sensitive membrane, made it weep an esoteric substance that spilled light as it leaked out. It was memories, not drops that flowed into it, dilated the central point until he could see nothing but his past.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Regret. Regret. Regret.

He was benumbed, afraid that if he so much as twitched a muscle that the sharp tips would slip into the ocular structure and pierce it, damaging it irreversibly. He gave himself over to the invasive sensation, albeit begrudgingly, with a scream locked in his throat, echoing into a soundless void.

*

The hair at Ciel’s nape was dripping wet down his cardigan and rain streaked his face into his smiling mouth. He licked his lips, and the soft raindrops tasted sweet on his tongue; there was a note of careless freedom, laced with the scent of young balsam trees that littered the opulent backyard. “Like this?” Ciel called out to his twin, juggling the rubbery red ball from thigh to thigh unsuccessfully. It got away from him more often than not, and he was sent running in the direction of the forest on the north end of the manor.

“I can’t see what you’re doing! It’s too foggy,” his twin giggled, scampering towards Ciel’s disembodied voice, slipping on the slick, sodden grass with a whoop of delight. “Come help me up, I’m on my arse again.”

“You said arse!” Ciel snorted, sitting next to his big brother in the muddied soil instead of helping him up.

The Phantomhive twins burst out laughing in tandem with the crackling storm overhead. “Do… do you wanna know what I heard Father say over the phone yesterday?” the eldest asked in a conspiratorial whisper, invading his brother’s space as if he were afraid of being overheard.

“What?”

“F-U-C-K,” he spelled out slowly, exaggerating the sound, “trumpet.”

Ciel’s eyes went wide, lit with a twinkle of false outrage. “Fuck trumpet!?!” he exclaimed two octaves higher.

They both collapsed, clutching their sides with suppressed laughter as whimpers of mirth carried far into the night sky. For minutes they couldn’t look at one another; Ciel would simply wiggle his eyebrows to get his brother going again, or his twin’s shoulders would start shaking and they would both lose it. Before long, they were lying on their backs, mouths occasionally opening to drink the rain, or offer up a better swear word. Among them, ‘Bitch Tits’ and ‘Cock Knocker’ were favorited.

Soon, the rain turned to mist and the fog became thicker, descending on Phantomhive Manor like a heavy blanket where the heir and his spare could hide from the world and exchange the kind of words they would otherwise be chastised for sharing. As it was, they were scarcely half a foot apart and Ciel could only make out the whites of his brother’s eyes; so much the better, when the older of the two began talking about the future, the omega could not conceal the bitter desperation that veiled his sallow features.

“Only ten more years, Ciel. In ten years, I’ll be done school and ready to work alongside Father. I’ll have my own house, and I’ll move away so you can live with me. I’m an alpha, I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll spoil you the way you deserve. Feed you chocolate and get you all the toys you want.” He supported his head with his fist as his elbow dug into the cool soil, and spoke so confidently, Ciel almost believed him. “It doesn’t matter that you can’t have pups, we don’t need babies. We’ll get a real dog. A huge one!” he exclaimed sitting up excitedly and stretching his arms out wide.

But that was ten years away. Two years more than what Ciel had already lived through, and he couldn’t really count the first three since he didn’t remember much of them. How as he supposed to endure ten more years in the attic? Ten more years of scrap food. Ten more years of abject loneliness. And his twin would change his mind eventually; all alphas really wanted were progeny. That’s what the doctor had told their father when Ciel was slipping under sedation on the operating table only a few months prior. “No alpha will look at your son if he can’t breed, Vincent. Are you sure you want me to sterilize him? He won’t even get his heat.” Ciel never heard his father’s reply, but he woke up sore the following day and with a slight fever. It was just a small infection, they’d told him, nothing antibiotics couldn’t fix. He, on the other hand, would remain a broken omega thereafter.

“Sure,” he agreed with his brother noncommittally. The last thing he wanted to do was waste his free time arguing and feeling sorry for himself. He sat up and threw the ball at his twin’s chest. “So show me what I’m doing wrong before it’s dawn and we have to go back in.”

His brother’s fingers pushed Ciel’s matted hair from his face and tucked it behind his ears affectionately. “Well, you can’t exactly see like this can you? I’ll ask Mother to come give you a trim this week.” The twin rose to his feet and proceeded to bounce the ball from leg to leg. “You have to keep your thighs even with your waist, see? If you don’t bring your knee up enough, it’ll bounce away from you.”

He tossed the ball to a standing Ciel, who caught it with his thigh and then the other. “Like this?”

“Yeah! You’ve got it!” his twin cheered. “Send it over here.”

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up…

And on the down, the ball connected purposefully with Ciel’s knee in an amateurish pass. Time slowed to a crawl then. The wind suddenly sounded warped and distorted, as did his heartbeat. His vision sharpened, and the ball seemed to slice through the fog, past his twin’s raised leg and outstretched hands. It shot across the yard, and so did they, clumsily careening after it in a race to get it first.

The eldest reached it first and ‘accidentally’ kicked it forward to extend their game. They bolted the width of the manor in this way, tripping over one another and laughing, chasing a ball they could seldom see. It felt so good. Great. This was what real freedom felt like, and as Ciel bypassed his brother in their front yard and onto the sidewalk, he knew this was what it felt like to be loved; how else could he have won when his twin was the star football player of his team?

“Yessss!” he cheered, holding the ball victoriously, pumping it over his head in the middle of the wet, ill-lit street.

There was no warning. No lights on the car. No squealing, screeching tires. Only the sound Ciel’s breath being expelled from his lungs and a muted splash as he was pushed into a puddle on the asphalt and the crunching thump-thump of wheels over a breakable, eight-year-old body.

Ciel hissed, the palms of his hands burning against the road. He brought his head up, and barely caught a glimpse of red lights driving off in the distance. They were lost to the fog moments later, or maybe the driver had simply turned the corner. It mattered very little at that point.

In his peripheral vision Ciel saw small bare feet twitching. He shook his head in denial, and tears sprang to his eyes. His mouth went dry as he tried to call to his brother. It opened again and produced nothing. ‘Don’t be dead,’ he screamed internally, grief-stricken. ‘Don’t be dead,’ this time more forcefully in his mind as he crawled on the raw ground, moist with tiny pebbles and gravel towards the jerking, flattened body. “Don’t be dead.” It finally came out when he reached his brother, but it was a weak cry without conviction.

The relief Ciel felt when he hovered over his brother was short lived; he was worse than dead, he was suffering. His teeth were clenched and his breaths whistled through his flared nostrils. The ‘P’ stitched to his sweater took on a darker hue, darker than simply being wet; blood had begun to pool under his twin with each heaved sigh and feeble moan that he whimpered.

And then the most ridiculous thought struck Ciel, as they often do when a person is in crisis: who would ask his mother to trim his hair for him if his brother wasn’t around? Quite abruptly, he couldn’t make sense of what was happening. This wasn’t real. His brother was playing.

“Stop this!” Ciel ordered him. “It’s not funny, stop it! Come on, we gotta go inside before Father wakes up.”

He pulled on his brother’s shirt and sat him up. A sickening gurgle came from the older boy’s mouth along with a warm, bubbling froth that spilled over his lips and down his chin. Reflexively, Ciel wiped it up with his own sleeve, lay the boy back down again and lifted his shirt. Innards bulged against the skin of his lower abdomen like they’d been nudged there, all of them. Ribs protruded the small chest cavity, jagged and broken. The omega gagged, then swallowed, swallowed, swallowed, determined not to retch on his brother’s already soiled body.

Then rage found him through the light of dawn, the sun coming up through the trees, a spotlight on the crime he’d committed. “You moron!” he yelled a hellish, broken bleat, “You fuck trumpet! You cock knocker! How could you!?!” Tears clouded his vision as he kept screaming his accusations. His fists clenched and unclenched in the bunched fabric of his brother’s shirt and he shook him. “Why did you do that? Why? Answer me!”

Ciel’s heart was breaking, shattering. One person could not feel this much and not die. He begged for it, for death to come take him. His head whipped wildly up and down the street, pleading for another vehicle to turn the corner. Let it be a truck this time. A train. A tank. Take them both. He lay his head down on his brother’s heart and felt its final stuttering beat. Life was cruel but love was infinitely worse.

He kissed his nose, his forehead, his lips. They already felt cold to him, but everything felt cold now. His brother’s eyes were still open, and yet they didn’t look like eyes anymore, but great protuberant, pearly orbs, like crystal balls. Ciel did not need to look into them to know his future. He tried to close them, but they resisted. He tried harder, but the skin of his lids would not slip over them, bulged as they were.

Still crying, he rose on wobbly legs and pulled his brother’s body under the armpits from the street, a trail of mud, blood and other substances trailing the corpse. He walked ten feet then crumpled to the ground, walked ten more and found himself barely conscious enough to resuming the tedious chore of delivering the much loved son of Phantomhive back to his parents. He could hear them inside by the time he reached the front door, calling for his brother to wake up and come eat breakfast. How long would it take for them to notice his absence, he wondered idly. Not long now. He pressed his trembling lips one final time to his brother’s head, and not having the strength to drag him up the front stairs, he ascended alone, needing the full support of the railing to ring the doorbell of his own home.

*

Ciel’s locked muscles released as the chimeric noose around his neck snapped and he fell. Strangulation was better, more predictable: gasping, tearing arteries, edema, vocal rupture, heart falling out of rhythm… But this, this falling was capricious at best. Would his body shatter upon impact into a cloud of billions of ashy dust particles? He could only be so lucky. After what he’d done, after what he’d caused, he deserved to plummet into the infernal abyss, into the teeth of whatever creature waited for him there. It doesn’t matter, he told himself, as long as it lets me forget… I don’t want to remember.

If there was a god, it heard him in that moment. Plunged him into a sludge so cold it was scalding and it only grew more frigid. He sank into it, suffered the innumerable stabbing punctures stoically, let the sluggish mixture seep into his every orifice, his every pore. Because it was justified.

“Master? Master!” Sebastian fretted, teeth biting down on his bottom lip as the boy went limp on the bed. His gaze darted from the pulse in his outstretched neck, to his wrist and his chest. Weak. Barely there. His claws dragged down his cheeks as he looked him over, body full of mortal injuries: bites, gashes, bruises, swelling and discoloration. He made a sound like a wounded animal as guilt bubbled to the surface.

Distress wafted from the small body, its scent bitter, and salty in the same way that tears tasted. The incubus’ throat thickened and his eyes pricked uncomfortably. He blinked and a dark substance like molten hematite clung to his long lashes, then spattered upon the boy’s face in unknown constellations. He drew in a shaky breath and his nostrils flared; a stale, pungent odor joined the desolate redolence, but it was not Ciel’s. He followed it, looking over his shoulder and found Francis sprawled on the floor amidst an assortment of vials, not dead, but certainly not conscious.

He growled low as it came back to him: the nun, the pseudologoi, the extractions. “No! You didn’t!” he berated the senseless form, cradling it in his arms, and holding it it snug against his chest. His fit of anger faded away simultaneously as awed reverence urged more of the inky fluid from his eyes. “Why, Master? How could you? For a simple servant?”

Sebastian pushed the hair from the omega’s face, caressing it with a tenderness as of yet known to him and every touch was a reminder of how he was beholden and indebted to the young man. “You beautiful, foolish thing,” he whispered against his mouth, forcing his own heat onto Ciel’s open bluing lips. He whined, tasting him again and moved from mouth to jaw and up to his ear.

“Get out,” the incubus hissed. It was a menace so scathing, the omega’s body trembled and the tiny hairs of his body stood on end. “Get out of him now.”

A quiet laughter simmered inside Ciel, but it did not break out. He arched his back coyly and his chest rubbed up on Sebastian’s. His slender arms rose over his head as he stretched, moaning “Nnnnngh,” then rasping a drawn-out sigh.

Sebastian’s face became a stone as he gazed at the blacked out irises trying to regain their former sapphire glow. He quickly stumbled back in shock, almost tripping over himself.

Ciel sat up, tucking his feet under his bottom and ran his hand over the satin sheets in a decidedly sinister fashion. He shrugged out of his soaked shirt and tossed it at the incubus’ feet. “He wasn’t bad for his first time, was he, Prince? That was all me, you know...”

An unnaturally devilish grin deliberately crawled across the omega’s face as he bit the tip of his finger and looked at the prince from under his lashes. His free hand found his hardening erection, fondling it teasingly for the demon. It was sensitive still and he mashed his brows together as he began stroking it. “Fuck me again… mmn… and I’ll show you how much experience counts for… Sebastian.

A feral snarl ripped through the dungeon and the incubus pounced on his master, pushing him back against the mattress with more force than he had intended. He seized him by the wrists, careful not to grind the bone under the soft skin to powder and bared his teeth, fangs elongated threateningly. They hovered over Ciel’s neck, ready to tear into it. “I should kill you,” he snapped.

“Well, that isn’t exactly fair, now is it?” Ciel simpered, smiling up at the incubus. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, or at least they were in direct disagreement with them. While the omega’s lips were curled and his pearly, perfect teeth glistened, his pallid eyes were sad and mournful.

“Not fair?” Sebastian roared. “Don’t think I don’t know how your kind operates. Did you tell him you were giving him an expiry date when you entered him?” How long did Ciel have left until the spirit burrowed its way into his soul, made it irreparable? Gouged it? Fed on it like a worm in an apple, a helminth in a host?

“They all die eventually, your highness. No sense in getting attached to this one.”

“But you didn’t give him all the information to make an informed decision,” Sebastian seethed, hypocritically. If he could just focus on the task at hand, he might be successful. It would hurt. It would likely destroy the omega, but it was a kinder end than living as a hostage to the pseudologi, wasn’t it? Given Ciel’s thrashing and outward suffering, how much damage had he taken? And could a soul that’s been disfigured this way, be repaired? Hades in Hell! A soul destroyed, shattered, rotted through and through, stripped of identity, of memory… what kind of life was that?

Who in the universe had the power to undo this? To reforge the essence that made individuals who they were? If the pseudologi was the big bad wolf in a fairytale and the omega the selfless hero who brought cookies to his ailing relative, one would need a cosmic lumberjack to slay the wolf, open him up to take all the pieces out one by one and reassemble them.

“Aww… are you worried he hates you? He resents you for his suffering? That’s… precious,” Ciel purred, pouting omniously. “He would have done it regardless. So brave, your little orphan. Like one of your heroes; you know all the stories, your highness, they were read to you by your mother while you were in the womb. A soul is something a mortal risks in battle and loses in death. Achilles himself says as much in your beloved Iliad.”

“My master is not Achilles,” Sebastian spat, staring feverishly at the omega’s vessel. He was at once repulsed by it, but seduced by the very same body he’d sampled sight, smell, touch, taste and sound. It was near impossible, even satiated as he was now and in his current dilemma, to not recall their fevered couplings: in the dungeon, in the lab, in the omega’s dreams, in the forest… where he’d doused him with pomegranate juice and let the flames lick his skin. Had he the foresight, the inkling that he would one day feel for the omega, he would have anointed him in ambrosia instead and burned away the mortal parts of his body as Thetis had done for her son.

Ciel cocked his head to the side, denying the demon access to the fleshy part of his neck. He stole a look from under his damp fringe and saw the smoldering fire ignited in his gaze. He knew he should heed the warning, but he could not help himself, to twist the knife in the wound of Persephone’s son was a rightful kind of revenge. “He’s not even really your master, is he Sebastian?”

The incubus snarled viciously and sat himself up on the omega’s legs. A wave of tenebrous energy struck out of him, stretching and twisting in the air, expanding as if being given free reign and power. It thrust Ciel hard into the mattress, knocking the wind out of him. He couldn’t have the pseudologoi run off at the mouth; he had eventually planned on telling the young man about his brother, how he served them both -- the deceased out of duty, the living out willful subjugation -- but not like this.

The gravity around them unhinged, little by little, and Sebastian’s hand poised itself over Ciel’s head.

“Stop it, Sebastian! You’ll kill me!” Ciel screamed in hoarse gasps. The sheet on the bed tore itself and bound his hands together, tethering them to the post just overhead. The omega squirmed, his eyes flashing open, wide in shock. They shifted colours: blue to black to red and something in between. A prismatic vapour poured from his nose and mouth and it was absorbed by the tendrils that exuded by the prince.

“Then give back what’s not yours, you little thief!” Sebastian growled in his infernal tongue, his tone commanding like that of a king. He flexed his fingers and they twitched as if he were controlling a marionette with an infinite amount of strings. It was heavy, daunting. And Ciel cried out again, this time his voice not solely his own. It held a shrill inhuman screech in its tonality.

The tendons in the omega’s body stood out against his skin as he fought against the psychic intrusion at his third eye. He made a wretched croaking noise like he was trying to scream through a non-existent gag, the sound click-clicked and sissed as the small body convulsed.

Sebastian cursed. Called every deity he knew as his fingers broke through the barrier of Ciel’s mind. Time being as dire as it was, he couldn’t even afford to give the omega a moment’s respite to adjust. Tremulous emotions buffeted his master. Worthlessness, longing, shame, insecurity. Vengefulness. The sour taste of regret.

Why regret?

“Mine! Mine! He’s mine!” Ciel howled with such intensity his eyes rolled back so far, that even the noticeable blood vessels in them writhed before those in the right orb burst, coating it in an unctuous amaranthine plasma.

Ciel sank into the mattress as if it were liquid and the satin began to bubble violently and emit shallow sounds around him like groaning laments. Six crystalline arms, long and spiny, sprouted out of the lustrous goo like the wrathful from the river Styx and gasped the omega’s body, pulling him under. “Mine!” It echoed in the room, a cacophony of anxious possessive voices all vying for the young man’s flesh, for his soul.

“No, you don’t!” Sebastian reached deeper, and immersed into an agony so raw inside of Ciel, it burned. He had to refrain from recoiling, to push him further into the pseudologoi. Abruptly, an image slammed into him, rushed up his hand, his arm and threw his head back with the intensity of it. Ciel, a tiny wisp of a child, sitting by a small rounded window no larger than an adult head. It was not the orphanage, but the room was dull, walls of exposed wood strewn with drawings made of wax crayons to cover up the knots and uneven cracks left by poor carpentry. Whatever caught his attention outside had him frowning, his eyes welling with tears and his shoulders shaking. Laughter carried up and through the unsealed casement; it was distinctively youthful, a squealing trill of a child being tickled and chased. ‘I wish you had never been born,’ the young omega uttered under his breath, and the image dissipated.

Ciel’s soul ached ferociously, but he didn’t register the pain physically. He felt the glowing embers of his mind split then snuff themselves out like lights that no longer worked on a Christmas tree, pulsing feebly, going dimmer and dimmer until it no longer functioned altogether.

One bulb. Two.

Why would he wish for someone not to be born?

Three. Four. Five.

He wished Sebastian would just get this over with.

Six. Seven.

What had the spirit said about masters, again?

Eight.

He felt hollowed, bereft, punctuated with holes, whittled out like part of him was missing. Fragile, so fragile like a single word could break him.

Nine.

“Gotcha!” Sebastian crowed victorious, squeezing the eidolon of the pseudologoi between thumb and forefinger and pulling it out. It jerked and squirmed in panic and shone bright, much too bright, painfully bright. The demon was forced to hold it at arm’s length and turn his head from it. He was tempted to eat it, to do away with it the way he should have with Druitt the first time. But he could not. The spirit had fed. It held parts of Ciel’s soul within itself and if he was to find a way to make him right again, he would need them as perfect shards rather than masticated lumps digested by a hellspawn of his stature.

Ciel lay on the mattress, rid of the limbs that had threatened to take him away. His chest rose and fell erratically and he shivered, naked, his body smeared in a thin sheen of sweat.

Sebastian got to his feet and cautiously walked to the wall of paraphernalia, side stepping Francis. His free hand drifted over the crops and whips to the lubricants and oils. He emptied a glass bottle of the most aromatic of the former and stuffed the spirited essence into it. It filled the space greedily, though it didn’t need to, and given the nun’s penchant for sanctification, it was quickly lulled to a resigned state. It seemed such a meager and disrespectful conveyor for something as precious as Ciel’s soul, but it would have to be suitable until he got the omega to the woods to tend to him properly.

The demon soon found his clothes in a heap by the stairs that led to the main floor and put them on, pocketing the bottle in his trousers. He wrapped his exhausted master in a new sheet he plucked from the drawers of the chest bed, cocooning him snugly and concealing his hair and face. When he held him, the now sleeping young man melted against his body and his breathing finally evened out. Sebastian kissed the top of his head, not even aware of having done so, and ascended the stairs, taking them three at a time and leaving Francis to her fate.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or how long they had been in the dungeon, but when they got to the headmistress’ proper office, it was nearing dawn. He led them both out, not bothering to shut the door behind him and filled the hallway with a protective sooty smoke so thick that none could have seen them as they slipped out into the front yard.

Except for her, of course.

There, leaning against the empty bike rack, tapping her foot impatiently was Sieglinde, sharpening knives one at a time between her claws. They made eye contact, and she was before him in a blur. He shielded Ciel, turning his back to her instinctively, but she spun him faster than he could crouch to bolt.

“We have a problem, brother” she told him severely, “I can’t find Beast anywhere, no one can.”

Chapter Text

Everything that Sebastian had done in his life up to this point had been motivated either by greed, by lust, by cowardice, or vengeance. Not this. He would not fail the omega, not after the small thing had risked his life for his miserable existence. That was not a gift one could simply repay with an hour of senseless fucking or by saying thank you.

Ciel's sacrifice merited much more than a fleeting orgasm and a week of limping. It deserved a sacrifice in return: a demon's denial, an incubus' idolatry. So he ignored his half-sister and kept walking.

“Did you hear me?” Sieglinde chased after him. She cut through the empty school parking lot and followed her brother along the sidewalk to the orphanage. She hissed, her silver weapons growing hotter on her person, a match for her growing ire. “Do I need to call you Sebastian as well, for you to listen to me?"

"I have more important matters to attend to right now, Sullivan.”

“More important than your psycho fiance going off the grid? For Hades’ sake! He’s just an omega!"

"Perhaps,” Sebastian muttered, turning left on a secluded street where the trees were so overgrown that not even the piccaninny dawn filtered through. Yet, he could still see Ciel as clearly as if he were bathed by sunlight. His swollen, flushed lips were slightly open, issuing sounds of deepest dormancy.

Some creatures were only beautiful in repose: their relaxed faces held fluid lines and edges, their silence, an eloquent elegance. But not Ciel. The young man was as stunning in his sleep as he was in action. Though Sebastian envied how Ciel’s slumbering serenity could have put even Narcissus to shame, it was the omega’s waking hours he clung to, if only for Ciel’s water-on-fire glares and his half-crooked teasing smile; especially now, since such instances were numbered.

Selfishness surged inside of the incubus; he couldn’t have his vulnerable omega so exposed when the little thing was constantly dogged by those that would cause him harm. Sebastian swept past a particularly tenebrous shadow of a giant oak and called on its obscurity with a regal snap of his fingers. It slithered after his dark strides, latching onto the sound of his footfalls, and working its way up his tall frame to settle at his broad shoulders. A stately cloak emerged, inlaid with a high crimson-gold collar and menacing epaulettes that established his status. Next to his coronation garments, this cloak was ranked the second most important in the incubus’ wardrobe. It blew back, biting menacingly in his wake, unwilling to be tamed. He subdued it nonetheless, with an effortless beckoning that shielded Ciel from the elements and prying eyes more than the ragged sheet he wore.

Sieglinde fell into step with Sebastian, newly adorning herself in her impressive decorated war regalia. Its demonic aspects bruised her horns the colour of Thermopylae’s Last Stand and caused her spiked boots to bleed the earth where she walked. She stood a little taller as a result and her eyes glowed a little fiercer; it was an equal show of power to her brother. “Are we going to measure dicks next?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. He wasn’t keen on having Ciel wake up to the discussion of his betrothed and he didn’t want to frighten him unnecessarily, so he switched to his demonic dialect. “I don’t see why you’re so worried. Beast’s disappearance doesn’t concern you in the least. It’s me she’s coming after.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sieglinde appraised the bundled lump in her brother’s arms and made the connection between the salience of his pomegranate scent and whatever stained the fraction of her brother’s exposed flesh. The incubus had been claimed, more than once, and the omega had lived through the ordeal. “What I meant to say was that, I smelled a fair bit of bloodshed at St-Augustine’s, unless that was all you?”

“No, some of it was Ciel’s,” the incubus stated proudly, remembering the way that the boy had bludgeoned Druitt and had slept well the same night. “But there have been instances: an alpha…”

“You seem so aggrieved.”

“Hardly. It was only a matter of time before I did it myself. They’re awful, these alphas…” The bony spurs anchored to Sebastian’s muscles went erect under his cloak, and his talons lengthened and curved the more he seethed. “Entitled, self-absorbed, pompous, think they own everything they set their eyes on, they make Koalemos appear intelligent!”

“Reminds me of an incubus prince I know… He’s making you soft, this one.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Quite the contrary. In his company, I find myself unbearably har-”

“I get it!” Sieglinde cut him off, stopping before the omega’s residence. It had changed significantly since she’d last been here. It looked tended to, as if squalor had decided to set Elysium as its role model. Late autumn blooms were waking in the sun’s company, crocuses and dahlias fortified the building’s perimeter, while begonias thrived despite the frost kissing the tips of longer grasses. The zest of sweet apple hung heavy in the air, and despite their harvesting period being long overdo, the fruit was bountiful in their trees.

“But seriously, brother, this issue with Beast; she’s taken some of Wolf’s best soldiers with her. At least that's what we assume; they disappeared around the same time she--"

Both demons heads' snapped towards the orphanage's entrance as they heard someone struggling with the handle from inside. The atmosphere around them shimmered like wet asphalt and before a blond omega not much larger than Ciel came bounding out, they had eased themselves into a more natural (and less frightening) guise.

"Sebastian! Oh my gosh, Ciel! I'm so glad he's with you! Is he okay?" Finny drew breath, skidding to a halt in front of the incubus. His puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them spoke of his concern before his words could. "I was so worried when he didn't come home last night. I wanted to come look, but I couldn't get out..."

Sebastian's first instinct was to eviscerate the omega when his small hand reached out to tenderly tuck Ciel's flyaway hair behind his ear. To gut him for his audacity; how dare he touch something that belonged to royalty? But Finny's distress was palpable, it tasted sour on Sebastian's tongue. Even Sieglinde stiffened behind him as she gave the pajama-clad boy a once-over, twice-over, thrice-over…

No, he couldn't hurt Finny. Ciel loved Finny; this boy was his whole family. And from the way that the blond risked his hands caressing Ciel's sleeping face in the arms of a demon, that feeling was mutual. He had no doubt that Finny would go to Hell and back for his friend, so what must have stopped him from searching?

Sensing her brother’s mounting confusion and the pheromones of his feuding emotions, Sieglinde snatched the blond omega's hand away from the sleeping boy. Finny hissed when she touched his wrist and cradled it against his chest.

"Ow..." He blithered, finally noticing her. His eyes went comically wide and he swallowed. He looked from Sieglinde to Sebastian in the same way that cartoon characters did; he could sense a resemblance more than he could see it.

"Ciel's alright, Finny, just sleeping. And this is my sister, Sullivan." He nodded in the girl's direction, peering over both their heads, more desirous to get to the forest behind the large house than ever, now that it was in his sight. "Sullivan, this is Finny, Ciel's…"

"Best friend," Finny finished for Sebastian. The demon was relieved. He didn't know how to classify their relationship. He was sure that roommate didn't cut it.

Having regained his normally courteous demeanor and gotten over his momentary shock of her, Finny extended his arm out to Sieglinde. That's when Sebastian noticed the circular bruising cuts into the omega's skin. It extended from wrist to some inches up his forearm. The same was true for his left arm as well. The combination of dried red on blue and black screamed the pain that Finny didn't have to.

Sebastian couldn't keep the growl out of his voice. "The alphas were over last night." It was an incontrovertible statement, one that he was loathe to make. Only when the incubus had allowed his focus to drift from the omega did he notice their stench. As if it had been shoved up his nostrils and corked there. Though Ciel's current situation was thousands of times worse than rope burn, he was surprised that, in his own depthless crimson eyes, it didn't lessen the severity of the trauma that his little friend had gone through.

“It’s fine,” Finny said, snatching his outstretched hand away from Sieglinde before she could shake it. He let his sleeve fall over the evidence of his omegan duty.

For her part, the demoness looked put out. The corners of Sebastian’s lips curled up at her downturned ones; she wanted to touch him. Her curiosity was obvious now that he paid attention: she had perked up and leaning forward, even her aura had shifted color, its shape prolonging, like little fingers trying to grab at the omega.

Sebastian smiled and it was warm and genuine. Sieglinde glowered at him, aware she’d been caught.

“It’s not fine,” she said.

Sebastian knew she would say that. Spawn of Hades or not, Sieglinde was tasked with protecting and defending. The violence caused to the blond was an affront to her sensibilities. She could undoubtedly heal his superficial wounds with nary a touch, but their game of subterfuge forbade it.

Sebastian could see the questions she was dying to ask the little thing: Does this happen often? Who allowed this? Who is to be punished for letting harm come to the most vulnerable of them?

“Honestly, I was luckier than most,” Finny admitted, always too modest in his suffering. Ciel, it appears, had rubbed off on him. “I don’t think the alphas found my worry very appealing, so it took them a while to come see me. I was only… aggressively scented by two of them,” he winced, unconsciously massaging his hips, where Sebastian was sure he’d find discolorations matching his wrists if Finny dropped his pajama bottoms. “But then that alpha arrived and the rest of them just… left. I’m just so glad Ciel wasn’t here. She asked for him by name.”

The hackles on Sebastian’s back went up to mirror Sieglinde’s.

“What did she look like?” Sebastian’s angered possession spiked and he clutched Ciel closer to his body. The unconscious boy released a whined sigh and draped his hand over the incubus’ shoulder as if to hold onto him. Sebastian saw his lips move in a mumble but couldn’t make out the words.

Finny shivered and as if Sieglinde was unable to help herself, she moved closer. “I didn’t get to see her from where I was tied, but her voice… it was like she was growling a song rather than speaking. And all of her sentences seemed to end in a question even if they weren’t.”

The siblings’ eyes flashed in understanding. Beast. Without preamble, Sebastian dropped his human charade and sped for the back of the orphanage, leaving Sieglinde to make excuses for him at the front. In a swift leap from the awning onto one windowsill and then another, Sebastian found himself quickly climbing through Ciel’s smashed bedroom window, omega in arms.

As predicted, it was a disaster. Feathers were strewn on the floor from torn pillows, the flowers that had grown on vines decorating the omega’s four-poster bed had been scorched, leaving behind a malodor that likely carried throughout the large house. His clothes and uniforms had been ripped, and his walls had been stained with a menacing shadow that mimicked tightly coiled hair and fishnet stockings.

If the shadow had eyes, they would have pierced him like daggers and nailed him to the spot, but that’s not to say that it didn’t try. The darkness crept along the wall, saturating every dust mite, and unpainted nanometer, filling the window where he’d entered. Already, the doorway had been immured, confining them to Ciel’s room. The air there was being slowly siphoned, and while it would do little harm to a demon, the omega would suffer. In fact, he was already suffering.The lovely cream of his face was fast becoming a faint cyanic, a hue that should only be reserved for the unique pigmentation of his eyes.

To disturb the darkness would only alert Beast to his presence here, which meant that escape by window or doorway were out of the question. That left the floor, and normally it wouldn’t be a problem: spill a liberal amount of blood onto a surface, say a few words and sink into it, the portal between worlds would open, and voila! He’d done it plenty of times; it was an effective means of getting away from a lover the next morning, before the inevitable coyote ugly moment ensued. But he’d never attempted such a feat with a passenger and he refused to compromise his master’s safety.

Shit. Think. Ciel’s eyes snapped open and his hands flew to his neck. His gaze looked blinded and he began thrashing, gasping for breath.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Sebastian promised and locked his mouth around Ciel’s. He blew into it with slow deliberate breaths. The rush of oxygen flowed through Ciel like warmth, calming him, expanding chest to find a natural rhythm again. At the very least, it bought the incubus a few moments.

And then it hit him. No doubt the darkness concealed sound, so calling for Sieglinde would be useless, but he had another alternative, one whose many ears were more refined and attuned to his summons. He might not be able to disturb the darkness, but that did not mean that something else could not.

He pulled from the omega’s mouth, licked his own lips, weak-kneed at the homespun taste, puckered his lips, tucked his tongue and whistled. It took very little time. Before Ciel could even so much as gasp, Sebastian heard it: paws stomping madly towards the orphanage, weaving a path of utmost destruction as it ran. The building shook as it raised onto its hind legs and stuck one of six eyes next to the shattered glass.

“Good boy, Cerberus,” Sebastian praised. As a show of its understanding of the situation’s gravity, the hellhound did not even fight over the praise by pushing its heads out of the way. “I need you to grab Ciel and take him straight back to the forest okay? Hide him, but stay with him.”

Cerberus backed away and Sebastian saw all three heads give a curt nod. A moment later, its tail surged through the frame and stole the demon’s precious cargo. He himself wasted no time, tearing through the flesh of his arm to soil the floor. He caught sight of the hound being swallowed up by the magical barrier that separated Pholóē Oak from this physical realm as he emerged from a portal by the small orchid lining the orphanage’s perimeter.

“I knew it,” he heard Finny tell Sieglinde as she pulled him along, racing to her brother’s side. “I knew you weren’t an alpha.”

“I saw no point in deceiving him,” Sieglinde told Sebastian pointedly. “I might have been able to explain away your speed, but he went all white when he saw your mutt careening towards his home.”

Lies. His sister could have kept him at the front of the orphanage to avoid Finny seeing anything. She wanted an excuse to be forthright. Sullivan was honest to a fault and it would be her undoing. She said to conduct herself otherwise was to bring dishonour to such an indomitable race. Apparently, dishonour did not extend far enough to embargo the maneuvering of armies in order to slaughter whole armies, or letting her brother suffer at the hands of their father. For those things, she was always accountable, boastfully so. But, miraculously, she had allowed herself to succumb to a pair of bright green eyes whose innocence had somehow disarmed her after centuries of bloodshed.

Finny missed the furtive, silent exchange between the demons, and locked onto to Sebastian’s arm. “And since you’re not an alpha, you don’t know how to properly take care of Ciel.”

The incubus dematerialized the portal he’d conjured, “I don’t have time for this,” he snarled, flicking the omega’s arm off his person. Sieglinde’s immediate responding growl told him to make time.

“I can smell his claim on you. I know what you did. He needs special attention.” Finny’s eyes burned toxic with the intensity of his demand. His meaning was plain: I will castrate you if you don’t.

The incubus sighed, “Alright. What kind of special attention?” Aside from being left to sleep off his exhaustion and fed, Sebastian was short on ideas. When it came to demonic aftercare, the primary focus was getting the sexed counterpart(s) energized for another round of pounding.

“Well, lower your collar first. I need to see how far this went. Did he bite you?” Finny shifted his gaze to the now well-paced and flattened grass.

Sebastian’s reply came out like a stunted ejaculation: ineloquent and shameful. “W-w-what?!”

He blushed. Actually, blushed. Heat made its way to his face; he felt it on his cheeks, and on the tips of his ears, where they blazed to the roots of his ebony hair, so that in his mind, he appeared to have inherited a rooster’s cockscomb by sheer mortification. The more colour rouged his face, the harder Sieglinde laughed, doubling over, holding her stomach. They were way beyond the point in which he could have uttered ‘that’s personal’ to save face or appear gentlemanly. Instead, he answered in such a way that any respectable incubus would, “I’m not sure. I was passed out, balls deep in your friend while he rode me back to life.”

Sieglinde and Finny blinked. Saying nothing. That’ll teach ‘em.

Sebastian was sure though, Ciel had bitten him and it had only intensified their coupling. At first, the omega’s teeth had been shallow and grazing, a teasing tantalization to stir him. The harder that they gnashed against his darkening skin, the lower that they sank into blackness, the more the incubus belonged. It was a raw possession, one that inexplicably tethered him to the little thing. And when Ciel tore into him, out of instinct, from equal longing, it was a reconciliation of flesh and soul that mutated his hunger for sex into a special kind starvation.

When they’d first met, Ciel had asked if he’d wanted his soul as payment. The idea had seemed laughable; what would he, incubic son of Hades, want with a meal that only quenched his appetite once, when he could have the boy over and over and over again?

But the mark Ciel had left seared between his neck and shoulder had refashioned the concept completely, because Sebastian finally understood: Ciel’s soul would not only satiate his hunger once, it would satisfy it once and for all.

“Well?” Finny asked, his small foot was now tapping the ground impatiently.

“Right... Collar… bite…” Sebastian grumbled, coming out of his musings. He cocked his neck, an indication that Finny could go ahead and look.

The protective omega’s fingers were cold when they tugged at the cotton and moved it to the side and upwards. He aggressively turned Sebastian about and stood tip-toe as he examined the nape of the incubus’ neck, and then coming full circle to where he’d started. He huffed. “I thought for sure… There isn’t a single mark…”

“It seems as though your little friend isn’t nearly as much a savage as you are in your lust, Finnian,” Sebastian smirked, straightening his shirt again. Finny reddened at the reminder. Would Sieglinde piece it together? Would she tell the omega that it wasn’t difficult for high-level demons to heal and conceal?

Ciel’s bite was still there alright, hidden under a cheap glamour. Sebastian felt the sting of it pulse like an electromagnetic wave linking him to his omega, slowly fading into a permanent scar that even six months of torture had failed to leave. It was bad enough that he and Ciel had had an audience in the dungeon, but at the very least, the evidence of their tryst should remain private.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have a master to tend to.” Sebastian took off in the direction of the pomegranate grove, more eager than ever to get to Ciel. His belly rumbled, for he was anxious to test the pleasures of his epiphany, to see what other gluttons a soul could rouse.

Without thinking, Sieglinde found herself between the magical barrier and her brother. “You can’t leave him here,” she said, stomping her foot and pointing at Finny. “Beast was here looking for your little plaything. We’re lucky that she didn’t torch the whole building with them inside!”

Finny rooted to the ground where both demons had left him, unable to hear their conversation. Sebastian’s eyes lit with mischief, complimenting his sinister smile as he considered the situation at hand; it was a worthy payback for Sieglinde’s earlier guffaws.

“This seems more of a you problem now, Sullivan,” he said, ironically patting her shoulder. He raised his claws at either side of her head and into thick tangles of branches to imperceptibly bleed the ripened fruit. Silently, he mouthed the gateway incantation, aware that his sister’s head was tilted up to read his lips.

She failed.

Sieglinde seethed, unable to understand the language of centaurs that had been relinquished from the hybrid creatures to Persephone, and ultimately to him in the womb.

He joined the fog at the demoness’ spiked heels and passed through her in feathered vapours, parting with a whisper of a chuckle.

“But I have work!” he heard Sieglinde protest from the other side, beating the pomegranate branches, “I don’t have time to babysit, brother! Brother!”

Of course she didn’t, he thought, retaking his human guise, rushing swiftly through fallen leaves and pine needles caught in clumps of morning-dewed moss. Sieglinde had been so busy trying to deprive him of a future title he didn’t desire that she’d made it a personal mandate, often embracing unnecessary, self-imposed obligations to make herself look more responsible. This vendetta with Beast, for instance; his fiancé was but another obstacle in her path for Hades’ throne.

In many ways she was his exact opposite, but it hadn’t always been so. They had been close. Had shared a crib, a nursemaid, had both been abandoned by the family patriarch who was always in a perpetual state of heartbreak over newly maimed partners. It was him that had taught Sullivan how to walk, corrected her speech as she learned how to talk, empowered her to fight her own battles. And when they had nightmares, they snuck into one another’s chambers in search of warmth and consolation.

He’d treated her like a princess, nay, a queen, even carried her everywhere she wanted to go. Schooled her until she had surpassed him by leaps and bounds-- he’d never known an intellect like hers before -- a challenge even for Socrates, or at least he’d said as much once she’d carefully talked him through some allegory about a cave.

Sebastian had helped groom her for ascension, and when it was obvious that she was ready, when no one could run Hell better, not even Hades himself, they approached their father.

“Out of the question!”

Sullivan shattered when told the reasoning. She built an impenetrable wall to guard the remains of her self-worth and with every day her brother’s coronation loomed closer, the distance between them became greater. It only dawned on the incubus now why she was so sympathetic to the blond omega, and would likely be towards Ciel. He had no doubt that she would stay at the orphanage today and perhaps well into the evening.

Sebastian slowed to a saunter when he spotted the cave where his hellhound liked to take refuge. He could only just make them out through the gentle fall of water that masked the entrance. The omega looked ever more tiny, curled up between Cerberus’ giant paws, one of his hands thrown over a large toe as if hugging it in his sleep. All three heads were lowered, yet still alert by the look of their erect ears. The middle one perked up when it heard him approaching and a rumbled, cautioning growl was carried on the breeze through the water.

“Shh…” Sebastian soothed, taking his first step into the pond, which pretended to not notice, and remained undisturbed as he sloshed his way across it, removing the vial containing the pseudologoi and bits of his omega’s soul within. His school uniform melted from his body into the liquid, and was replaced with a wet, clinging toga in the sweetest hues of perdition. He traversed the waterfall, hid the illicit package in a fissure and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Setting both elbows on the cave’s stony outcropping that stood abdomen high, he rested his face in the cradle of his hands and merely stared.

A soul.

An exquisite soul wrapped in the most delicious skin he’d ever tasted. In the warmest vessel he’d had the pleasure to cram himself. In the bravest, proudest being who’d shown him an ounce of concern.

He didn’t deserve him, but he yearned to devour him again. To savour him more deeply this time. To forgo the carnal energy and beckon his little light. Just a morsel. Not even a mouthful. Just enough to coat his lips and bathe his tongue. Ciel was still alive after having been whittled out by the pseudologoi wasn’t he? What would a few more nibbles do?

“No!” he chastised himself, climbing onto the ledge, and picking up the omega. His cheek found the top of Ciel’s hair and he inhaled him. “No.”

“No what, creep?” Ciel uttered hoarsely, throat full of sleep. “What are you going on about?”

“Nothing, master, please rest. I’ll find you somewhere comfortable to sleep.”

“M’not really tired anymore, just achy.” Ciel shifted in Sebastian’s arms, his legs going straight out in an exaggerated stretch. The splash of water overhead gave him a start and woke him further.

“Somewhere comfortable to recuperate, then.” Sebastian skipped over the ridge of the pool and walked barefoot towards his fig tree. Behind them, a paraded assortment of the forest’s soft bounty followed: a cloud of downy feathers, puffs of hydrangea, a carpet of bluebells, thatches of long temple grass, a breeze of windswept mood moss, and a small colony of spongy coral tooth fungi, among other things.

The incubus took the scenic route, where warblers, magpies and sparrow performed their sunup symphony. It should sufficiently distract Ciel from--

“What happened… to me?” the omega inquired, his fingers absently brushing over the new silver scar at the base of Sebastian’s neck.

Or not.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Ciel pursed his lips. “I saw someone get hit by a car, I’m not quite sure who. I was there though, I saw it happen. Maybe it was a dream?”

“You were with me the whole time, Ciel. There weren’t any cars where we were.” How peculiar. Were delusions a side-effect of soul fragmentation? “That being said, there was a fair bit of riding going on…”

Ciel groaned at the awful double-entendre. “Well that’s a relief. Everyone’s safe then,” he muttered the casual, off hand remark to diffuse his embarrassment.

 

The words hung in the air between them. How much was the incubus supposed to tell his master? He’d been beholden to protect him, not to be honest with him at all times. He compromised, and gave Ciel another truth instead.

“You were good,” Sebastian’s voice got caught in his throat, “More than good… So good...”

“Eloquent today, aren’t we?” Ciel snorted, giving the incubus a falsely-serious look.

If Sebastian wasn’t mistaken, the omega’s eyes did not shine as brightly as they usually did. It was likely the poor lighting on the forest floor. Perhaps Ciel was, contrary to what he said, still tired.

“No listen, what you did for me, for a mere servant…” He stopped by the destined tree and set the omega on his feet. The boy winced and Sebastian steadied him. Over Ciel’s shoulder, the forest set to work, throwing itself together in an abstract piece of art. Creeping vines reinforced white birch posts, bending and stringing them together like a halo. Lush flora became garlands, became laurels, and festooned the blossoms into dozens of cozy pillows. Spider silk weaved between the wooden columns like a gossamer canopy, and down so white it rivaled virgin snow became the nest’s crowning glory, blanketing the area like sand over desert.

Gently, reverently, the demon lay his master at the center. “You didn’t have to do any of that. But you did, at your own personal risk. I never thought when we agreed to our terms, that it is I that would have been your greatest danger.”

The blooming flowers called butterflies to their nectar, as the incubus continued to search for the right words; they would have been so much easier to say if he didn’t mean any of them. It was not in a demon’s nature to rhapsodize about fondness; they were beings of action, of instinct and physicality. Feelings were a convoluted language apart from anything verbal; one could ascribe their happiness to another, but since everyone’s definition of happiness differed, what was even the point?

The point of course was the sustainability of a symbiotic relationship between master and servant. Omega and Incubus. Prey and Predator.

And just like a pelican spider tracing a line of silk left behind by its eventual victim, Sebastian inched onto the bed, denying his hunger as his eyes migrated from foot to knee, hips to chest, and finally settled on Ciel’s very much abused neckline. It was enough to recall him to his task at hand: to tend to his charge. How his pride stung at this very moment for not having allowed Finny to tell him how to best care for the spent omega who’d marked him as his own.

He unfurled Ciel’s shirt with caution and consideration. A riot of colours were splashed upon the omega’s skin: he was an absolute work of art with the pinks and purples, blues and greens. And reds. The reds hit him the hardest, right between the legs. Sebastian knew, with the small, rational, this-is-how-humans-think part of his brain, that he should feel shame for how it aroused him; that the bruises, claw marks and scratches were evidence of violence. He opened his mouth to say so, when Ciel caught him staring.

“It’s fine,” he omega grinned, irresistibly fingering the fresh cuts that had swollen and risen on his skin.

Sebastian throbbed. The way the little thing just touched himself so blatantly and with such unbeknownst seductiveness. He was sure the tent caused by his jutting cock in his toga was obvious enough for even Zeus to spot.

“Can you stop being appetizing for one damn minute!” he blurted out, then grimaced as he tried to swallow the words that should have remained a fleeting thought. He collapsed exasperatedly next to Ciel, unable to make eye contact. “I mean sorry! What I meant to say was SORRY for all those…” his hand waved blindly towards the area of Ciel’s chest and collar.

The right corner of Ciel’s mouth twitched. “Are you though? Sorry, that is? Be honest, Sebastian.”

“I can’t do this. I know what your kind expects, but I’m no Apollo. I can’t wax poetic about these things. I’m not made for this.”

Ciel turned on his side to face Sebastian, sinking lower, more comfortable as the duvet of feathers and flora molded itself around his body. He sighed warmly. “Made for what? Being a decent alpha? Newsflash, I summoned you precisely because you weren’t. I don’t expect you to have feelings…”

“Hey!” Sebastian faced Ciel and tangled the boy in an embrace with both legs and arms. “Just because I can’t articulate them, doesn’t mean I don't have them.” His head found the crook of the omega’s neck where he breathed him in and luxuriated in the contented scent. “You should know by now that I’m better at showing my appreciation...”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Ciel bared his throat in playful submission.

Was the omega serious? Surely the redolence that surfaced at his pores was -- desire, subtly pleading, was rolling off in waves of warmth from his person. “An audience. Damn it Cerberus,” Sebastian growled. Overlarge paws crept forward, dragging its massive body behind it from between densely leaved trees. The hellhound’s three heads cocked simultaneously, six big puppy eyes blinking innocently at their master.

Ciel laughed, and the way it shook his body still caused him some pain. He hid it from the incubus. “Aww… he missed you…”

“I’m not the one he missed,” Sebastian grumbled, holding Ciel closer to himself, giving Cerberus a dirty glare. The three-headed mutt whined pathetically to incite the omega’s pity.

It worked.

Ciel patted the bed with difficulty due to his restraints. Cerberus came obediently, knocking a tree over in its haste.

“Do you play with it, ever?” Ciel asked, sitting up gingerly, feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

“We play catch, mostly because it gets it away from me.” Having reluctantly released the omega, Sebastian sat next to him. A crimson ball materialized in his open palm and he gave it a few quick bounces to tease the hellhound. He shot it out of sight, far over the trees, hoping it would give him and the boy some privacy. Cerberus didn’t so much as glance in the direction in which the ball had been thrown. It had eyes only for the omega.

“You’re so rude, Sebastian. He’s rude, isn’t he?” Ciel asked Cerberus rhetorically. The mutt barked; it was a resounding, unmistakable yes! “Maybe he likes Hide and Seek instead? I used to play that when I was just a pup. With my… brother, I think.” It must have been, Ciel didn’t have any other acquaintances or friends growing up. Funny that this memory was suddenly foggy, had an almost dreamlike quality. “My parents had a huge manor, we used to hide all over it.”

Sebastian wondered if the small wooden room he’d seen in Ciel’s memory, the one bereft of a bed, dressers and proper wall coverings had been a hiding place for this game. It was much too small to be anything functional.

“Were you any good?” he asked, snaking an arm around Ciel’s back and rubbing small, soothing circles along his spine. The school shirt sagged down the omega’s arms to his wrists, exposing his marred flesh. Sebastian licked his lips, his dick newly reminded why it was hard.

Ciel melted into Sebastian’s touch, leaning his head against the incubus’ shoulder. A tingling sensation radiated from his back, dissipating one kind of tension to replace it with another. He became more aware of the incubus’ heat, the mad thump of his heartbeat in his fingers as they caressed his skin. The omega crossed and uncrossed his legs, pushing down the renewal of feverish arousal coursing in his veins. He almost forgot what he wanted to say. “I was amazing. I was brought up to be unseen.”

Sebastian frowned, but Ciel said no more about the matter. “Did you hear that Cerberus? You’ve been challenged! Why don’t you go hide somewhere in the forest, and we’ll come find you… eventually.”

“You know what? That’s not a bad idea!” Ciel enthused, needing to put distance between them to calm himself, hoping internally that he could suppress his mounting arousal until he was where he needed to be. “Since I’m not all that steady yet, why don’t Cerberus and I go hide, and you come find us in a handful of minutes?”

At first, Sebastian was suspicious, but suspicion quickly morphed into covetous jealousy. Sharing Ciel with the hellhound was the last thing he thought he’d be doing today. Still, it was hard to deny Ciel anything, especially something as simple as a game. “Fine. But only five minutes,” he told the omega, helping him to stand; then to the hellhound, “keep him off his feet. Or else.”

Before Cerberus could pick Ciel up again, the incubus knelt at his master’s feet. Experienced and eager fingers unfastened the boy’s trousers and wrenched them down. Ciel flushed a poppy petal red. “You have a dirty little mind, don’t you, Precious?” It was a difficult thing to relish in the omega’s embarrassment and hardening erection, while trying to ignore both shameless displays of interest. “I’ll just take these to wash while you’re hiding.”

“But…” Ciel stepped out of his trousers half confused, half disappointed. His body ached, but he still craved the incubus. What had their coupling amounted to if he was still standing (somewhat) and very much alive? Why and how had Sebastian managed to control himself? Where had the marks he'd found him in the dungeon with gone, and why was the freshly argented indent of teeth-- his teeth-- the only evidence left from the previous evening?

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your modesty right here.” Sebastian misunderstood Ciel’s hesitancy and pulled an airy thread from the canopy overhead, twining it loosely around the omega’s body. The ancient Greek garb fit him better than it had any right to, accentuating his small waist and the soft, barely-there curves of his body. He gawked, forgetting to close his mouth.

“Thanks,” Ciel smirked, and no sooner he was picked up by Cerberus and carried down a densely overrun southern path, away from the incubus. “Shut your eyes, you’re cheating!” he called out.

Five minutes. Five minutes to think without the distraction of the omega’s pheromones, or the smoothness of his skin or the sweetness of his breath. Five minutes to run the soiled clothing to the waterfall, to wash and to hang it. Five minutes to beget a tranquilizing honeyed, lavender balm for Ciel’s wounds, to collect an assortment of berries and nuts, to ferment the apples into cider, and to deposit them all within a tendril’s reach of the bed.

And when he’d done all that, he still had time left.

He paced the nesting area, digging shallow groves into the earth, like a moat around a castle. He pocketed the balm and prematurely warned, “Ready or not, here I come!” Four minutes was enough time to hide if Ciel was as good as he said he was. No, he admitted shamefully, it was just difficult at this point to keep away from the omega when he was so vulnerable.

He strolled at a leisurely pace for demons; a human would have likened it to the clip of a cheetah, tearing through an African grasslands. As he eked out the areas small enough for the omega to hide, he was vaguely aware of the threat Beast still posed outside the forest. He never considered himself a coward, but being tortured for six months had made him a pragmatist, and as such, his brain had knitted together two possible contingencies of getting out of this arrangement with his betrothed.

The first option, of course, was the easiest: stay here, and keep the omega with him. Ciel didn’t seem that opposed to the environment, and this plan was in line with his end of the their contract since there were no alphas here to harm the omega.

A second option, a more cunning one, was only now taking shape in his mind. It was a little cruel, still somewhat hypothetical; he couldn’t even be sure it would work. Could Ciel’s soul, if ingested, save him from starvation? Famine was an incubus’ only weakness, was the only trigger for real pain -- he could withstand anything else. The threat of being denied sustenance again would become an empty one. Eventually his father and his fiance would run out of patience and give up on this ridiculous idea. Sullivan might actually get her way.

But a soul taken by force would not do.

The appeasement left by the partial transference of Ciel’s soul through the scar that would not heal on his neck, had been the omega’s autonomous gift, given without preamble, without any strings attached. What would it take to convince Ciel to give him the rest of his essence willingly? What kindness? What deceit?

He slowed his gait, nostrils flaring when he came across the omega’s sweet-tart fragrance. Ciel and Cerberus had evidently split up; he could no more make out the hellhound’s familiar effluvium than he could his immense body.

“Ciel?” Sebastian spoke sing-song. He brushed a nearby tree trunk, collecting the sap spilling from a hole left behind by a woodpecker. He intensified the heat of his hand until the syrupy concoction crystalized into rock candy and broke off in glass-like shards. The aroma it gave off was appealing, even to an entity that did not feed off tangible substances. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, little omega… I have something for you…”

To his left, the maiden grass shifted some fifteen feet away and with it, the Blue Stars, Black-Eyed Susans and Coneflowers. His eyes followed their progression from tip to root and squinted as they fell on toes curling and uncurling, digging into the moist morning earth, alternating with pressing heels.

How sweet. How tempting. The omega thrilled at being hunted and the incubus couldn’t help but catch the feeling like contagion. He circled the presence, taunting it, closing in on it. “I’ve caught your scent, precious. Did you really think you could hide from your incubus, when you still smell like me? When I’ve filled you and bloated your belly?” He waded through the tall grasses, ripping the soft blades out by the handfuls so that they give up their secret. “These flowers do nothing to mask you. I can taste you already.”

A keening whimper.

Sebsatian’s lips curled. “Are you scared? Are you… frightened?” He crept forward. “Do you know what happens to a wolf when a deer gives chase, precious?”

“Nnnngh... Hah… Mmmn…” Pant. Pant. Pant. Whimper. Whimper. Pant. The grinding of teeth.

“Do you want to see? Are you curious?” Sebastian teased seductively, “Go on… I’ll even give you a head start…”

“S-Sebastian… Stay aw-away…” Ciel whined between hitched breaths.

The painful arousal held by the omega’s words found the incubus before he himself found Ciel. He blinked, edging closer barefoot to the source of hypersensitivity that lustrated the air. The soil was clammy like sun-kissed skin with one step, then wet with fever the next. Not wet, sticky and viscous. Slick.

Delicious.

“I said… go a-away…” Ciel seethed. Sebastian could see him clearly now, curled inwards on his side, face screwed up, hand under the now wetly transparent skirt of his toga, stroking his cock erratically, and with difficulty.

“Ssshh…” Sebastian mollified, getting to the ground and delicately removing the painful grip Ciel had around himself. “You don’t really want me to do that, do you omega? Let me stay.”

Ciel didn’t answer verbally, he didn’t have to. His pupils were blown, his cheeks were tear-streaked and his lips were dry and raw with the indentation of his teeth. He did not smell like heat, but by the way he’d rearranged rocks and flowers concentrically and piled a small stack of wild berries next to his head, he certainly thought it was imminent.

“Was my nest not to your satisfaction, master?” Sebastian jested, securing the omega’s body next to his, to keep his arms pinioned between them. He withdrew the balm, and coating his thumb thick with the substance, spread it over Ciel’s plump bottom lip. Already, the marks were receding. He added more to the top one and Ciel caught the incubus’ thumb between his teeth. The omega closed his eyes, groaning, his frantic heartbeat picking up after a momentary reprieve.

“What did you do to me?” Ciel ignored the former question and countered with his own. He spoke around the words, sucking the digit in an attempt to self-soothe. The press of Sebastian’s hardening length against his own didn’t help matters. “Did you put some kind of demonic spell on me? I… I can’t get you out of my system…”

“It’s an unfortunate consequence of my nature, or so I’m told.” Ignoring his cock’s strong suggestion to ravage the omega, he listened to his brain instead, using his free hand to apply the balm to Ciel’s neck and collar and shoulders. He was sad to see the injuries fade; he would have been proud to display the omega this way at school, so that each and every alpha there would understand to whom he belonged. “Where’s Cerberus? I ordered him to stay with you.”

Ciel’s hand wormed its way lower, finding what it was looking for. Sebastian growled, throbbing in his hand. “I told him to go away.” His fingers did not touch as they circled the length, and pumped him languidly. He moaned; they both did. Ciel’s want needed abatement, but he dreaded it. No matter the wash of relief flooding his skin, his insides still swelled with ache and fire.

The sky opened up then, and a moderate rain fell. It did not quench his blazing inferno, if anything, the way the cotton now clung to their bodies provoked the omega’s desire even more. The incubus’ sudden rigidity was an indication that he too had been newly incensed.

“He listened to you? Over me?” Sebastian tried to lace his tone with indignation. Tried to focus on anything else but the tightening grip around his cock, or the sluicing beaded drops tracing the omega’s natural curvature.

“I am… I am your master, after all.” Ciel’s hips moved against Sebastian. Friction. He needed friction. He released the incubus’ thumb and kissed the drench fabric over his sternum, eyes staring up, pleading. He felt the slick seep out of him, and winced. It hurt, but not as much as his carnal frustration. “Fuck me. It’s an order. Just… just fuck me, Sebastian.”

It was like music to the incubus’ ears. Musica Universalis. A harmony of the spheres, of celestial bodies. Was the boy addicted? Would he do anything for satiation? Maybe not yet. He wasn’t begging yet. Could option two really be so simple to achieve?

“No,” Sebastian refused the omega. “You’re still too sore.”

Sebastian doubted he’d ever spoken five more difficult words. Difficult not only because he was denying himself, but also because he meant them.

Ciel’s mouth opened to complain, water from the sky spilling into it. There must be another way, the incubus berated himself, a compromise.

And then it came to him.

He rolled the boy flat onto his back against the softening ground, pinning him by the wrists. He climbed atop, pushing the toga up to the boy’s navel, exposing him. Careful of his weight, cognizant of where he sat upon him, he straddled Ciel’s hips and pushed against the omega’s cock behind him.

Ciel looked at him, eyes wide and anxious, coloured with doubt. His chest heaved, his member pulsing hard as it slid between the heat of the incubus’s backside. “If it’s satiation you thirst for, intimacy you need, precious, let me do all the work.”

Chapter Text

The rain fell softly on Ciel’s upturned face, but it was Sebastian’s gentle hands, thumbing at the sharp protrusion of his hip bones that soothed the burning ache torching his body. The sensation felt distant and removed, like in a dream; the most cruelest of dreams.

Ciel pinched his eyes shut, partly to stymie the cool rivulets of water from running into his eyes, but mostly to prevent himself from waking. What the incubus was proposing was unheard of. Had he suffered a momentary lapse of memory? Did he not remember whom he was straddling? An omega. One incapable of all things that gave his dynamic any value.

But Ciel wanted it. God, he wanted it. His body hummed electrically with it; and Sebastian’s touch was not its antithesis, did not neutralize it. Instead he absorbed it, heightening it in the process.

He writhed beneath Sebastian, his small chest rising and falling, shock and need making him breathless.

“Look at me,” the incubus groaned, his tone rough with ferality. He could read the lust on Ciel’s rain-slicked body, the greed in his flushed cheeks, but he wanted more. Wanted to see the pleading in his eyes, to hear it in his voice.

He didn’t want to humiliate the little thing, no, never. What he wanted was to empower him; to legitimize his desperation, for him to recognize that his demon would comply with each demand his carnality desired. All he had to do was ask.

“Open your eyes, precious omega,” Sebastian crooned again. He stilled his smooth rocking, keeping Ciel’s cock nestled warmly between his cheeks, and mouthed along his neck. “You’re not dreamwalking.”

Ciel whimpered, fists bunched up at his sides, loosening as they sought Sebastian’s lean thighs at either side of him. He latched onto them the instant he found them, feeling more grounded, as if reality hadn’t left him altogether. His nails bit crescent marks into the flexing flesh.

“Shh… I know it hurts,” Sebastian conceded, tracing his lips against the hollowed sections of Ciel’s clavicle and drinking the rain accumulated there. Already it was heated, tasting like home and undiluted comfort. “Just lie still, and tell me what you want.”

Beneath the flooded cotton of his toga, the omega’s dusky nipples pearled, imploring the incubus’ kiss. He pulled the puckered bud into his mouth through the flimsy fabric, and the taste of omega exploded on his tongue, making him carelessly capricious. “Mmn, the taste of you alone makes me so hard, Precious.” Sebastian’s member gave a prominent shudder against Ciel’s belly as the demon sucked the fabric between his teeth noisily, draining it of its dampness.

Ciel arched his back, pushing himself deeper into Sebastian’s mouth and winced in pleasured pain. His fingers tangled themselves in the demon’s drenched hair, holding his head there so he wouldn’t stop. He heard himself making obscene noises, moans and mewls, and felt yet another thrill shoot down between his legs, swelling his cock.

“Sebastian…” he lamented. He could ignore the splattering of fat raindrops all around them, and that they were partly submerged in mud, but not the feel of the incubus’ body sliding over him. And certainly not the absence of that body when Sebastian rose a moment to allow his omega dick to be trapped between them.

“No… what the hell are you doing, d-don’t stop... ” Ciel griped, embittered, already missing the friction of his shaft wedged Sebastian’s asscheeks. He pulled at the roots of the incubus’ hair and rutted himself against the bulge of Sebastian’s abdominal muscles.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Sebastian swallowed, movement raw, rocking his pelvis and brushing the stiffness of his groin alongside Ciel’s.

It was heady and hot. Ciel shivered and panted. Felt strings of pre-cum break apart and come together again as they glided. Longing sheared his nerves and a petulant whine tore from his throat. He ground his hips against Sebastian’s, waiting… waiting for the devil’s lecherous fog to clear and for him to realize the wrongness of his actions. But the more that Sebastian slid against his body, the more vocal he became in his reassurances, the more Ciel’s anxiety peaked.

At the sight of the lewd expression on his master’s face, air sawed through Sebastian’s lungs, and the sweat that dotted his brow dripped onto Ciel. His teeth elongated into fiendish cuspids behind his parted lips and grazed upon the omega’s shoulder. “Your body was made for me, Master.” His tongue lashed against the small hurt inflicted. “A tight hole to fuck. A dirty little mouth to cram. Strong, beautiful hands to stroke. And a swollen cock to impale myself on.”

It was when Sebastian slid a darkened claw down the front of Ciel’s toga and split it like a sword through silk, that the omega finally found his words. “Stop! Why? Why are you doing this? It isn’t right. Not like this.”

A wicked indulgence coursed through Sebastian, growing dangerously stronger with every nerve that shot through his system. A familiar gluttony settled itself in the pit of his stomach. It was beyond irritating to stop, but excruciating to disobey.

He sat up again, lust sparking his eyes behind a curtain of thick black hair. It stuck to his face wetly, the long fringe framing itself along the sharp edges of his cheekbones, and square jaw. It made him look tameless, unpredictable. “Omega,” he murmured seductively, “look at you.” His big hand glinded to Ciel’s ribs and when the boy sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, Sebastian slid the fingertips back to his hip again.

“Why wouldn’t I want to do this? You’re so soft, and warm, and so very hungry. How can you doubt my desire for you, when you can see it?” Sebastian led Ciel’s hand to the base of his jutting demonic length, hot and hard, wet from rain, darkened by the sticky salve spilling from its head. Ciel gripped it reflexively, covering the bulbous, gummy head, causing a groaned growl to escape the prison of Sebastian’s clenched teeth.

“How… how can you doubt my desire, when you can feel it?” He ran his fingers between Ciel’s hips, through the thatch of fine, curly, slate hair and took the omega’s cock in turn. He could see the boy’s belly flutter with excitement and couldn’t understand his hesitancy. All the signs were there. This was something Ciel wanted.

He stroked the omega’s arousal; gossamer seeds wept from the slit, and fat tears welled in the corner of his blue eyes, running down the sides of his face racing scattered raindrops.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ciel chastised, speaking thickly through frustrated embarrassment and need, “of course I can.”

“Then what?!”

Sebastian knew he should stop touching him: ignore the pulse of Ciel’s cock in his hand, quit kneading at his side, and just let him explain this absurdity away; but he knew no other way than this to console his Master.

Ciel moaned, head tilting back into the earth as Sebastian massaged his shaft at an agonizing pace. “Why… Mmn...” he drew in a breath to feed his rushing heart. “Why, would you, nngh... put yourself in a weakened position, for m-my pleasure?”

Sebastian’s head lolled over to his shoulder, and soft understanding smoldered between omega and incubus. “Ahh… I see now, Precious,” he said. He released his hold on his Master, who mirrored the gesture in kind.

Ciel looked away, bottom lip between his teeth. “Right.” How could the pampered Prince of Hades ever appreciate what it meant to be a screwable vessel whose only aim in life was to soothe a rut, or to be serviced for breeding. Ciel wanted to fuck, for the sake of fucking. Because it felt good. Not out of pity or biological edict!

“Did you forget your summons, Master?” Sebastian closed the distance between them, turned the boy’s head to face him. Under the cover of the incubus, Ciel’s face remained dry, as close as they were. “I do not measure weakness in the pathetic ways of your alphas.” Sebastian’s left arm snaked beneath the omega to crush him to his body. “All my kind know is pleasure, and how to take it.” He came up slightly on his knees and maneuvered Ciel’s twitching length between the apex of his thighs. “I can take it by fucking into your tight omegacunt until you scream.” He lowered himself, nudging his own entrance with the head of his Master’s slickened prick. “Or I can take it with your swollen cock buried deep inside me, throbbing like it is now.”

Ciel’s heels dug into the forest floor, hips stuttering eagerly against the potential intrusion. “I… I don’t knnnn…”

“Yes you do, Precious.” He held Ciel firmly beneath him, controlling him with weight and strength. His attention was divided: the omega’s arousal pulsing, pressed up on his entrance, ready to be swallowed up, and the silent gasps of his pretty pout each time he pushed down onto it. The incubus’ dire need to be penetrated was making them both feverish, intensifying their appetites. His teeth skimmed Ciel’s scent gland at his neck, then lapped at the potent flavour with slow strokes of his tongue. “Say it; say you want to fuck your demon.”

Ciel keened, his toes curling in the mud. His hands reached for Sebastian, tugging at his toga in desperate fistfuls until he found his naked hips. “I want…” he urged, tilting his pelvis.

“Say it…”

“I want…”

Sebastian notched Ciel’s cock slowly inside himself, the tender flesh giving under the pressure, stretching around the omega’s thickness.

“Say it, Precious. Say --”

It was on the tip of the omega’s tongue, there in his desiccated mouth. It was in the bucking of his hips, the bruising of his fingers on the incubus' hips, I want to fuck you, I want fuck you. I want to fuck you.

“No.”

“No?”

Zealous flames shot out from the damp ground, licking the falling rain drops rather than being put out by them. Their covetous greens and hot blue reflected the demon’s bewilderment, and crackled his frustration.

“No?” Sebastian repeated. The beast inside him calmed some after nary three beats of his heart; he was still agitated, but much more in control this way. This was indeed for the best. No harm would come to Ciel if the omega could curb his own sexual appetite.

“No.” Ciel shook his head, empowered by the incubus’ biased logic. “You say it, demon. Say you want to be fucked….” he swallowed, making sure his voice was sure, “by me.”

The fire spread around them, touching upon snowy fluffs of dandelions, creating a simmering, prismatic aura in their midst. Behind Sebastian, Ciel’s knees came up, feet firm in the muck to give himself more leverage. “Well?”

Sebastian played by his own rules, as always, and pushed back, sinking onto his Master’s cock in answer, keeping his scorching gaze on Ciel. He sheathed himself, embedding the young man inside him, adjusting his devilish body to fit the omega perfectly, to nuzzle his arousal in a tight heat that made his Master grunt.

When Ciel was fully buried inside him, when his flattened, sparse pubic hair was all that separated them, Sebastian wriggled down a bit more so that they were flushed one against the other: chest to chest, cock to belly, lock and key.

Utmost restraint pressed Ciel’s lips together in a thin line and flared his nostrils. The impatient thrum of his aura distorted the fire smoldering around them. Sebastian wondered what would happen if he moved upon the omega now? If he leaned in and claimed his master’s mouth? Would he moan into it? Scream into it? Call his name? Relinquish the unfractured parts of his soul?

He could feel the tremor of Ciel’s tension as he waited for something to transpire between them; as if his request hadn’t been rhetorical.

“Fuck me, Master.” It came out low, like a growl. Sebastian found that if he focused on the throb of rigid flesh pulsing inside him, or on the needy nails raking his skin, rather than the pith of soul drumming at Ciel’s core, that he could ignore (albeit with difficulty) the urge to bleed the omega. He rose, body holding tight to Ciel’s cock, and exhaled along the omega’s neck and ear with hot, vaporous breath, “I want to be fucked by you.”

“Shit. Sebastian, don’t be so… so...”

“So… what?” The demon moaned, hips circling. “So shameless?” He grinned, baring his teeth to the heavens. “Forgive me for craving your presence inside me, Master.”

The depraved tone bloated Ciel’s dick and he instinctively grabbed the incubus’ ass to spread him apart. He bucked into him with a throaty groan; undisguised indulgence swept his flushed features when Sebastian’s hold on his waist firmed, blemishing the fragile ivory of his skin.

“That’s it. Fuck, yes! More! More of that,” Sebastian cried out, viciously palming his erection through his toga. A wet, black stain spread through the cotton as he began jerking himself off with it; the rough texture chafing his shaft with unbearable friction. His wrist snapped as he brought it up and his fingers squeezed, soiling himself more, and eliciting sharp gasps and erratic gyrating.

Wordlessly encouraged, Ciel pushed harder this time, stuffing himself deeper into the incubus, letting his cock rub along the soft, velvety walls of Sebastian’s insides. It gripped him hard in semi-strangulation every time he dared pull out in the slightest. He held his breath as he pistoned his pelvis upward, chasing more of the incubus’ praise.

“You can breathe,” Sebastian teased, impaling himself on Ciel. "And scream… Yes… You should... You should scream for me, Master.” He sat up, throwing his head back, and rocked atop the omega with an unearthly, seductive sway that seemed to command the flames much the same way snake charmers mesmerized their serpents. It was a shame alphas did not exploit their lovers’ endowments more often; true, the omegan cock was smaller than their own, but their slight upward curvature and the thickness of their plummed heads made them ripe for riding, for filling and fucking.

Sebastian groaned his pleasure, hands sliding up and down Ciel’s sides. “Ahh… Master… let me hear you…” His lids became heavy under the influence of lust, under the spell of avaricious decadence, coming up and down in languid, clenching strokes.

“Se-bassss-t-tian!” gritted Ciel, the name broken like his control. “Sebastian, f-faster... rougher... won't b-break...” His body found Sebastian’s brutal rhythm quickly, his thrusts taking on a kind of restrained violence.

The incubus slid smoothly along his length with wet, squelching sounds usually associated with gummy slick produced by omegas. A viscous warmth ran down Ciel’s pelvis, down his sac and thighs as he drove into Sebastian from beneath him. His fingers left Sebastian’s hip, and drenched themselves for a taste. Syrupy, ooze, black as night, and ambrosial sweetness coated the omega’s tongue. Like sorcery, the tacky substance coaxed a moaning sob from Ciel, “Nngh, Sebastian…!”

The sight of his petulant, demanding face soiled with the soot of Hades, contorted in aphrodisia, had Sebastian’s lips parted in a soundless sigh; hungry mouth, hungry body. Ciel lay like a feast beneath him, his lithe, soft body, only for him to pillage. Through the folds of his toga, Sebastian found his bare cock, took it in hand and slid it through a loose fist, licking his lips skywards as the rain sluiced down his body, doing nothing to cool it. Ciel’s hand joined his own, and he arched back and snarled. He rutted faster, firm abdominal muscles contracting as he moved and undulated.

Under him Ciel writhed, and he could only see the whites of his eyes. The incubus fell forward on his hands, continuing to impale himself, varying the degree at which he fell on the omega’s painful erection. “Mmn… You enjoy this, don’t you, Precious?” He slammed himself down, felt his knees sinking deeper and deeper into the wet earth, “How my body milks your cock? Do you feel it? Sucking you?” He shuddered, his member leaking profusely as Ciel stroked it. He kissed Ciel’s throat, nipping it with the tips of his fangs and latching onto it with bruising ferocity. “Does it feel better than my mouth?”

“Both… Nngh… Both are so…” Ciel panted with hitched inhales, trying for all the world not to empty himself inside of the incubus, “so good, Sebastian. You… You look so…”

Sebastian chuckled breathily. “Admire me later, omega; fuck me now,” Sebastian commanded, contradicting his words by carefully sliding off Ciel’s member.

The omega hissed a furious little growl, as his arousal felt the sting of cold air, but not for long. Sebastian turned about, and straddling Ciel’s thighs, angled the neglected cock back towards his hole and lowered himself once more upon it.

Sebastian hummed, long and tedious, keeping his balance by bracing himself against Ciel’s knees. “Fuck… you feel good, Master. Every inch of you.”

The omega’s eyes went wide; they were transfixed on the perfect musculature of Sebastian’s broad shoulders, the V-shape of his narrowed waist. He gave the toga a tug. And another. He wanted to see all of him. “Take it off,” he commanded.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder coyly, ass grinding harder, faster against the omega. Rain and sweat cascaded down the dip of his back. “Say please, Ciel.”

“Ohmyfuckingod, Sebastian.” No threat accompanied the curse as Ciel started tearing through the fabric. In his hot frustration, the omega’s words were blurred, came out too quickly, and then tripped over themselves. “Ijustwannasee... it going in and out of you. Wannaseeyou stretch around me.”

And Sebastian wanted nothing but to give his Master what he wanted, to drink the arousal that this simple request would stir in Ciel. “Say, please…”

“Fuck, please!” Ciel groaned, slowing his movement, though it was hardly a punishment as Sebastian continued to pleasure himself on his dick, clinging to it avariciously.

“Now was that… mmmmn... so difficult?” he moaned, beckoning a singular flame to blaze the garment off his person. It turned to ash in Ciel’s hands, exposing him just as the omega wanted. He leaned forward, rolling his hips seductively.

Ciel made a little noise in his throat that was half whine. His cock pumped in and out of the incubus, swelling, making wet sucking sounds as it was swallowed up, pulling away and pushing back down.

The omega’s toes curled and Sebastian’s dick hardened uncomfortably. Ciel’s arousal reached peak level, and both of them needed more, wanted more.

The spurs at his shoulders and elbows erupted from his skin, and the alabaster darkened from there out. Each spine in his back tingled, and the scapular ridges of his shoulders pushed against the delicate human flesh, his hellish wings desiring to make an appearance, in an attempt to show off, to entice, to impress.

It was about the only thing that could have deterred Ciel’s attention. Without the pain of burning, drenched flames caught his master by wrists and ankles and spread him, drawn and quartered.

Ciel begged with words, and Sebastian with his body. A heady scream for More! was met with faster riding; a lust-drunk stagger under the waves of compulsive euphoria. The demon’s body suffered with the denial of his primal urges, ached with the need of Ciel’s imminent release. He fucked himself possessively on his master, pushing the air out of Ciel’s lungs as he drove the omega’s cock deeper inside himself, slowly, deliberately, torturously.

“Come!” Ciel pleaded, head thrashing. He crammed himself ruthlessly, relentlessly, with rough, hurried movements, bodies hammering into one another with fervour. “Fuck, Sebastian. I’m so close.”

“I want to see it in your eyes when you come, little Master,” the incubus gnashed in ragged gusts, matching Ciel’s onslaught of passionate thrusts. Swiftly, he turned to face him, pushed his wet hair from his face to be on full display for the omega, the tips of his fingers of one hand on Ciel’s quivering, flexing belly, and the other just above the trail of hair along his own pubis. “I feel you, ah... right here, omega. So hard.” He ground violently against his master’s bones. “Can feel you thickening, throbbing.”

“Fuck,” Ciel screamed, eyes pinched as the incubus’ wings spilled from his back and caressed his shaking legs greedily. Sebastian was so plush inside, so hot and snug. Ciel felt the start of his orgasm cresting, small squirts of his overexcited cock claiming the demon’s clenching channel. The sensation tore through his spine with a devastation so fierce that he felt like he was being turned inside out. The steady thrum of Sebastian’s body pulsed around Ciel’s cock, the heat of his breath washed over his scent gland as he neared him. He could see the incubus’ mark where he’d left it, where he’d bit into him to keep him.

“Mine,” ripped from Ciel’s throat and he tilted his head, exposing the delicate gland that brand him, omega. He felt Sebastian spasm around his shaft and fucked into him harder, losing control completely as his whole body jerked, then spilled sloppily inside of the incubus.

Sebastian growled. He could have woken the dead. It echoed as heat spread through his body, feeding his greed and scorching whatever it touched. Ciel’s skin smoked in plumes of mirrored onyx: along his ribs, where the incubus had gripped him, aside his velveteen hips where he straddled them, and on the column of his neck where his lips tasted him and his teeth pierced him. “Mine.” His voice was as hard as a fist, as sharp as fangs.

His body stilled, taut like a whip ready to snap. When it did, so did his wings, forcefully spreading themselves with a frenzied thrashing. The fire released its prisoner, and snaked itself around Sebastian’ cock instead, wringing and cossetting it. The edges of his consciousness blurred as Ciel bled into his mouth, his own wrenching pulse wailing in his head as he came on his Master in pearly obsidian. The sounds he made were inhuman, a vulnerable rattling deep in his chest, a gutturality that made his own blood run cold. It would have terrified the most evil among the Underworld.

Even her.

But Ciel, unafraid, dutifully wrapped his lissome arms around Sebastian’s neck, allowing him to collapse onto his small form. He could feel his heartbeat, smell the redolence of content and possession sweep over his exhausted skin. And he smiled.

Less than a minute later, the demon found himself spooning his small Master, the flames having created a dome over them to protect them from the rain and in the process, drying the malleable ground beneath them.

Soft snores were already emanating from the omega. He’d insisted on using the incubus’ leathery wing as additional heat source and had wrapped himself quite comfortably with it blanketed over him.

It did not conceal the new shiny scar blazing at the base of his neck, nor the caked blood that had splattered as a result. Sebastian cast his eyes from it, ashamed, hardly able to believe what he’d done. He fit his head against the nape of Ciel’s neck, determined to come up with a solution. Maybe he could glamour it, and Ciel would be none the wiser. Or perhaps, now that the omega appeared to have been claimed, the alphas would leave him alone - and his contract would be complete. They could go on their merry ways and he wouldn’t have to feel so… so….

He huffed and it sent shivers of goose flesh down Ciel’s back. Deep down, the incubus knew it wasn’t the scar that frightened him, nor Ciel’s interpretation of it. Rather, it was how much he liked it there, and for everyone to see. The feeling was all wrong. Attachment was not normally attributed to demons, at least not this kind. He traced the silvery cicatrix with his finger, and the young man in his arms shuddered a pleasant sigh.

They could try, he told himself, the way his mother and father had. Hide here, and spend their days in the luxury of sin, until such a time that the omega’s vessel would fail him. And then what? Saunter into Hell with him? Face Beast and his father with the wizened corps of his lover? It was the only way to keep him. If they stayed here, he had sixty years with him, at best.

He held the omega tighter, and he winced when it roused Ciel from his slumber.

“Mm… when can I go back to school, Sebastian?” Ciel mumbled, as if having heard the incubus’ musings, determined to ruin them. “I have midterms. And, actually… I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Well,” Ciel paused, happy to be turned away from Sebastian, “that maybe, I’d like to attend Homecoming at the end of this week… They've had posters out forever now... I'm sure we could get tickets.”

The incubus, for the sake of pillow talk, remembered having joked about it, when they had pretended for Finnian that they’d been dating. It had been an off-the-cuff comment; but he could hardly take it back now that he’d claimed the young man. And part of him didn’t want to, if he was honest with himself. He quite liked the idea of Ciel on his arm, both of them dressed in coordinated three-piece suits, each donning a rustic pomegranate boutonniere on their lapels.

It was choice that almost brought a smile to his lips. Homecoming was not appointed by the Royal Court; he would get to select his own attire, arrive at a time that suited him, and most importantly, show up with the individual of his fastidious preference.

And there would be no doubt: he would choose Ciel. He would always choose Ciel. For his defiance and his strength. For his determinism, and his beauty, and the sacrifice of his fractured soul.

But for those very same reasons, he would forego the event altogether. Because he was selfish, and perhaps, a might apprehensive now that he was of sound mind to rummage over Sieglinde’s news.

“I don’t know, Precious. Is that wise?” Sebastian asked hesitantly. “After what Sister Francis did…”

Ciel turned over, skin dusted with a fine layer of earth. Sebastian swept the particles off gently with his breath and the omega shivered.

“What about Sister Francis? What does she have to do with this?” Ciel demanded, a frown etching itself in his brows. He felt affronted, had allowed himself to be spoiled and now experienced a slight twinge of rejection at the incubus' soft refusal.

Sebastian’s mouth slackened, at a loss for words. “I…”

Ciel pushed Homecoming out of his mind. There were other things more important that silly social events. “Besides, I have to go back to school... it’s part of our contract isn’t it? How else am I going to support myself if I have no marketable skills?”

“I…” The incubus trailed off again, hiding his indignation by giving Ciel a cocky, devilish grin. Everything coming from his perfect mouth was problematic.

At what point was he to tell the omega that he in fact did not have a contract with him, but rather his dead twin? And what was he supposed to do about these lapses in memory? First his brother, now the deputy headmistress… He hoped, albeit dimly, that it had nothing to do with the vial of soul shards stowed away in the cavern and that both slips were due to exhaustion. But what offended his sensibilities most was the implication that he, Hades’ (unwilling) predecessor, could not provide for the omega!

"Rest today, Ciel. I promise tomorrow we'll discuss school... and Homecoming, if that's your wish." It would make Ciel happy... but of course, Sebastian knew he would have to keep a closer watch on him upon their return. He attempted to pull his Master closer, but the small thing resisted, having somehow seen through the tightness of his smile.

“Gawd, don’t be such an alpha, Sebastian.” Ciel joked, sensing a tiny victory. He freed himself from the incubus, and sat up, stretching his neck and legs gingerly. He stood, steady despite his former exhaustion, gesturing at once to the flamed dome keeping him hostage.

Sebastian’s possessive ire momentarily took the best of him, and he had half a mind to keep the barrier up. He didn’t like this attachment stuff, or the tangle of contradictions that came along with it. There was something terribly exposing about simultaneously wanting and needing someone, though more specifically, needing to be needed.

“Me? Like an alpha? You wound me, young Master,” Sebastian clutched his left breast dramatically, and did the omega one better as the fire put itself out; he mended the tattered toga that lay dangling upon his dainty shoulders.

“That’s more like it,” Ciel smiled ruefully towards the sun; the rain had ceased as fast as it had come. He bent to take a handful of forest berries he’d collected previously, and savoured them. There were only two left in his palm when he cleared his throat and offered them to his demon.

Sebastian rolled over onto his back and pat his firm belly. “I’m sated.” Content. Comfortable. Not quite full, but not starved either. He’d had enough restraint to not have mauled the omega. A first in some thousand years.

Sebastian admired him, curious. If he wasn’t mistaken, his Master now walked with a little more confidence and that lustful itch seemed to have shed itself, rather quickly. What was it about Ciel Phantomhive that had warded the depths of his avaricious gluttony? In the dungeon, he would have given just about anything to bludgeon and devour him. Was he simply growing accustomed to his flesh? It was certainly the most probable explanation.

“Good. You’re an exhausting pet to keep. I bet Cerberus doesn’t need as much feeding as you do, and he has three mouths!” Ciel skipped lightly over the fallen branches of the overhead canopy, put his fingers to his lips and whistled for the giant abomination. Both incubus and omega could hear the devastation of flattening bushes and pulverized rock coming their way. Ciel looked over his shoulder demurely at Sebastian, and winked. “The last round of hide and go seek didn’t count, for obvious reasons. Shut your eyes, and give me at least two minutes.”

Ciel heard Sebastian turn over and give a resigned sigh. He made out the baritone of his voice as he said, “nine, ten, eleven…” but lost the rest, having put enough distance between them. With the help of one of Cereberus’ lowered heads, Ciel climbed atop the beast and was led to a giant, leafy sycamore. Deftly, he maneuvered himself up to a high branch, unknowing how or when he’d acquired such a skill. He’d been locked away in his childhood, a prisoner to his own home, and would not have had the luxury of practice.

He balanced himself upon a large branch, sitting next to the trunk and watched as Cerberus scampered away excitedly. He would give them away, but it didn’t matter; he was sure his own scent of blue delight was a beacon that anyone could detect.

His eyes were shut to the sun filtering brightly through the leaves, and the sweet suffusion of light danced upon his face to warm it. He mouthed the words to Komorebi, a poem that had been a favorite as a child, though he had not understood its beauty until now:

“... I love how it exults,
like any escapee,
on the lake in slow reflective waves,”

Ciel breathed deeply through his nose, vaguely reminiscent of a small boy, a mirror image of himself, reciting the poem to him.

“...in radiant bands ascending the birch trunks,
according to some unknown frequency,”

The words were melodious on his tongue as he spoke them, despite the creeping cold that inched its way up his toes, to his ankles, and his knees.

“and in the cormorant extending his wet wings to it,
in a messianic gesture,”

He paused, body numbing itself to the exquisite artistry of the final couplet.

“As if dazzled to absolute,
by the word and the world’s beauty.”

That’s beautiful, omega. A sardonic voice stated from within.

Ciel gasped, and nearly fell clean out of the tree. “You… You were told to remain quiet.” He seethed, shattering the serenity to which the morning had mounted.

And I was, wasn’t I? I let you enjoy the Prince in peace.

“I’m still enjoying him,” Ciel spat.

The pseudologoi tsked him reprovingly. You know those weren’t the terms we agreed upon. Get used to it, omega; you splintered, and so did I.

Chapter Text

Irene let herself into the deputy headmistress’ office and sat upon a vinyl chair - the cheap, stackable ones every single school had, whose purpose was more geared towards hiding flavourless wads of chewing gum, than actually providing comfort. She crossed her long legs as she both watched and listened to the seconds tick by on the generic circular clock hung next to the upturned crucifix.

She hauled her backpack onto the large, russet cherry desk, pushing aside a marbled apple, a Bible and a coffee mug to the side. In turn, they themselves toppled a pen holder off the desk, sending an array of writing implements rolling this way and that. The young woman wasn’t bothered, simply dug through the pockets of her bag, groping blindly until she found it -- a small compact resembling a unicorn’s head.

Bringing the mirror close to her face, she admired the reflection. Her full lips, usually a glossy rose colour, were stained the deepest red. She licked them, pout them, and thumbed at them seductively. Irene was used to being beautiful, but today she was absolutely stunning. She had an infernal glow about her, a recently acquired confidence. She smiled wide, shaking her head of tight blonde curls about to watch them bounce.

They were hardly the only things to do so; she giggled at the very sight of it. Opting to abandon social mores such as undergarments, she was much more aware of the freedom it gave her body to move. As it should.

In fact, the cool autumn air blowing through the window behind the nun’s desk fondled her bare legs in a pleasant way. She uncrossed them, inviting the breeze that was like an imaginary hand to slide up over her knees and under her kilt. When it reached her thighs, she shivered pleasantly, sighing as she eagerly spread them.

“... and I want that assembly for nine a.m. sharp! The less time they spend in one another’s company, the better off we’ll all be.”

Irene heard Sister Francis, resentfully snapped her legs together and stuck her compact back into her bag. By the time she stowed it under her chair, the deputy headmistress waltzed in with an irritated sense of urgency.

“Oh, Miss Diaz.” Try as the nun might to hide her surprise at being taken unaware, her two-step back shuffle had given her away. To her credit, Sister Francis reigned in the sentiment immediately so no trace lingered in her normally calm demeanour. “You’re here quite early. School doesn’t begin for another twenty minutes yet.”

“I’m sorry, Sister. I know you must be quite busy, but I didn’t know where else to turn,” said Irene in her sweetest voice. She stared after the alpha, taking in her less than pristine appearance. There were flyaways peeking from her veil and she had pronounced circles under her eyes. But her current vexation went deeper than that; the fire that regularly lit her grey eyes had since dulled. In their stead, trouble stirred there, not like an oncoming storm on the ocean, but rather sluggish muddy waters that were difficult to wade through. And yet, despite her haggard countenance, she dodged every pen and pencil on the floor before sitting down.

“I am busy. Very busy. There’s… I’ve encountered some vandalism in my...” Sister Francis trailed off, looking boldly at her scandalous student, “but that’s neither here nor there. What you’re wearing is highly inappropriate for St-Augustine’s. Are you nearing your heat, dear? Should you be at home today?”

Irene laughed behind her hand. The sound was coyly innocent and contrasted her attire perfectly. “I’m wearing the school uniform, Sister. What’s wrong with it?” She stood to make a point.

“Well, for starters, your kilt is much too short. It seems frayed, have you tampered with it?”

Irene shook her head, her eyes widening in false naïveté. “No, Sister Francis.”

“And your decolletage is a bit much, even by omega standards. If an alpha were close to their rut and saw your scent gland,” Sister Francis drew in a hearty breath, “exposed like that...”

Irene gently kicked the door shut and bent forward, hands on the alpha’s desk so that they were nearly face to face. She was conscious of Francis’ eyes devouring her, of lingering on the swell of her breasts and the glistening of her gland. Occasionally, they darted just beyond her immediate body to where a full-length mirror was hung at the back of the door. Naughty nun.

It would be so easy to seduce Sister Francis into giving her what she wanted. All she would have to do is climb onto the desk that separated them, and guide her hands to the youthful, omegan flesh that quivered for attention. Her nipples hardened at the thought of it, and moisture suffused between her legs, slick and warm and weeping down her thighs. The sweet tang was alluringly inviting. Touch me, it beckoned, lick me, taste me, fuck me.

“Are you telling me that the alphas at St-Augustine’s aren’t capable of self-control, Sister Francis?” Irene asked, toying with her collar, and accidentally popping off an extra button on her blouse.

The purr in the omega’s voice was provoking. Her asphodel pheromones permeated the office like mustard gas. Clutching the holy beads at her neck, the alpha-nun swallowed thickly.

“They… they should not be taunted on purpose, Miss Diaz.”

The blonde minx was intoxicating, the very epitome of siren. Francis’ heart drummed madly; she was sure the bold seductress could hear it, feel it through the vibrations of the floor. The alpha licked her desiccated lips, made to extend her hand towards the pretty flush spilling down into the student’s cleavage. If she could just touch Irene, finger the crease between the heat of her bosom, it might alleviate some of the ache swelling her own intimate areas. She was inches from brushing the milky skin, when her hand shot up towards the large scarlet chrysanthemum set in her student’s curly hair instead.

Francis pushed out a shaky breath and it hardly quelled her desire to take Irene’s crimson lips between her teeth, to claim them… to claim the little knot tease. Under her holy tunic, her body screamed, the alpha in her was finally fully awake after a day-long fugue that had somehow resulted in a ransacked office, and an unearthed secret chamber.

The strong scent of spiced nutmeg overpowered Irene’s icy sweetness, and brought the alpha back to her senses. In all her years at St-Augustine’s, she never recalled having fallen prey to the wiles of an omega, or any student for that matter. But now that she thought about it, there wasn’t much else she could recall either.

“Please, have a seat Miss Diaz, and tell my why you’re really here.” Francis’ voice quavered, but was authoritative nonetheless.

The omega complied, deciding to break the pious woman at a later date, when she needed more pressing information. Still, she saw nothing wrong in flashing the alpha with a sight of her plush bottom as her kilt fluttered up upon falling into the chair.

“It’s Ciel, Sister Francis. Ciel Phantomhive.”

“What of him?” Francis was happy her breathing was nearing something normal again.

“I… I can’t seem to find him anywhere,” Irene dragged her chair closer to the desk. “I even went to the puppy mill where he resides, and nobody’s seen him. I’m worried.”

Francis stood, and turned her back to the omega, smelling the air outside to refresh her senses. It cleansed her palate, her lungs, her mind. She was still not looking at Irene when she asked, “Are you friends with Phantomhive? I’ve never seen you interact positively before.”

“To be honest, Sister Francis, we aren’t friends. But I’m afraid, because of whom he keeps for company.” Irene hid her black nails into her lap, twisting her fingers in a bid to look genuinely worried. “That Sebastian Michaelis... I don’t trust him. Since he showed up at this school, we’ve had students falling down stairs, breaking their bones, a near school-wide orgy during physics, a student mutilated at his locker, a teacher has vanished...”

“And you think…” Francis answered, to make up for her lack of memory on the matter.

“I think he’s absolutely responsible. There’s something sinister about him, Sister. If you ask me, what Sebastian Michaelis needs is a good, thorough exorcism to rid him of his evil.”

Sebastian sat at the pool’s edge by the mouth of the cave where Cerberus usually slept, watching across the way as Ciel fussed with the collar of his school shirt. The incubus was in no hurry to go back to a regimented schedule and told the omega as much.

Ciel unfastened yet another button so that the first four were open. He squinted at his reflection in the water, twisting his neck this way and that. No matter how much he tugged at his shirt, it wasn’t sitting quite the way he wanted. “Greedy incubus. Just admit you don’t like sharing me with anyone.”

“And if I do admit to it, can we can stay here longer?” Sebastian offered with his most devilish grin. More experienced lovers than Ciel had failed to resist his charms. Hell, even Homer himself had succumbed to him in the end. Who else could have have inspired the iconic phrase ‘the face that launched a thousand ships’? It wasn’t, as most people suspected, the poor raggabrash in mediocre Aphrodite cosplay that Paris had kidnapped.

But Ciel could have been on another planet for all it mattered. He didn’t answer his question, hadn’t even noticed his enticing banter... Rude! Instead, the omega growled petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

“Ugh… Why… won’t this… stay!” Ciel grumbled under his breath, feet dangling in the water.

Sebastian half expected the little creature to bring his fist down on the rock upon which he was perched. He was willing to let Ciel’s frustrations simmer until the acrid scent made its way over to the incubus’ side of the shallow lagoon. Ciel’s habitual aggravation tasted pleasantly tart on the demon’s tongue, like an orange that had become ripe moments before it was bitten into; but this was different. A very real note of disappointment lingered between them, softened the citrus’ acidity until all he could make out was the pulpy leftovers of a once delicious orange.

He slid off the rock’s edge, into the water which came up to his chest and waded through to the other side. The discouragement Sebastian made out did not seem directed towards him, rather it had to do with the omega’s willingness to…

What was it? The incubus was sure he’d picked up on this flavour before. It was unique to the omega, because the feeling behind it had occurred so few times in his life...

Once it had happened at the orphanage, after the demon’s overhaul of the former appalling aesthetic… Gone were the crumbling architecture and the shabby foliage. He could see it in his mind: Ciel’s eyes bright, facial muscles serene.

The second time, his small chest had been puffed out. He had been wearing his uniform, walking the halls and turning heads as he went, with his incubus bringing up the rear, collared and leashed.

And there it was.

Pride.

Ciel wanted to show off...

“Aww, Precious. Is your mark not visible enough for you?” Sebastian inquired, standing in the water between Ciel’s legs. Heat flooded the boy’s exposed neck and face attractively, and the incubus was compelled now more than ever to persuade the omega to extend their stay. His wet hand cradled his master’s face an instant to cool it, then brushed the new scar upon the curve where neck met shoulder. “Do you want everyone to know, omega?”

“No!” Ciel protested closing his eyes, but his head fell to the other shoulder all the same, encouraging more of the gentle ministrations. “Maybe… maybe a little.” His long lashes fluttered open again and he scowled to distract from his embarrassment. “You look disgusting soaked like this.”

The left corner of Sebastian’s mouth came up, and his wet hands drifted down at either side of Ciel’s waist, saturating the cotton. “Really, now?”

The omega gave a slight shiver and nodded. “Yeah. Your clothes get clingy in all the wrong spots. And it doesn’t hide how revolting your six pack is underneath.” The tips of his fingers tingled with wanting to reach out and pinch the firm expanse of flesh. He doubted he would be able to, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the incubus that didn’t belong there. He was perfection, all six-foot-four of him, toned and sculpted as if by Michelangelo himself.

And now, said ridiculous physique was mostly flat against the stone Ciel was sat upon, and not a moment too soon. Sebastian could hear a blush suffuse itself in the omega’s voice and the effect fed his arousal. It twitched and throbbed in his wet trousers, hardening when he moved in to run his bottom lip over the swollen, warm area of the new scar next to Ciel’s scent gland. “I’m sorry for the spectacle, little master,” he spoke against it, careful to swipe his tongue over mark, further sealing the permanent cicatrix, “I’ll do better in the future.”

“S-see that you d-do, Sebastian.”

The sun that filtered through the trees illuminated the faint stippling of freckles on Ciel’s nose and cheeks as his face turned upwards. Both the heat of Sebastian’s mouth and the light vied for the omega’s attention. Sometimes, the demon had the upper hand, teasing the boy with a subtle grazing of teeth; other times, like when the shirt fell from Ciel’s shoulders and arms... who was he kidding, it was still Sebastian’s win.

Soft murmurs, with little to no strength, tumbled from the omega’s parted lips. “No… school… late…”

“I know,” Sebastian crooned, divesting Ciel of his shirt and throwing it into the water behind him. His large hands fit themselves into the notches high on the omega’s rib cage, and rolled his nipples between his fingers. Ciel’s half-whimper of pleasure had the incubus rutting against the stone with enough force that it partially eroded the surface.

But Sebastian was a good servant. Knew that in a clearer state, Ciel had wanted to return to school, which was why earlier he’d sent Cerberus to the orphanage to fetch him some clothes. He’d been correct in assuming that Sieglinde had remained there for the night, and it was she that had thrown Ciel’s belonging to the three-headed dog from his bedroom window. Not being accustomed to Ciel’s preferences, she had made sure to send one of each garment, which was how he’d acquired the particular tank top he pulled down over Ciel’s head.

A waft of something bemusing filled Sebastian’s nostrils, and they flared. His master was in a state of confusion, torn between desire and duty, and to the incubus, there could be no sweeter palate cleanser. His mouth watered thinking of how beautifully this internal war must imbue Ciel’s soul with wanton richness. “Precious, one more day won’t matter,” he supplicated. It was a heady, sensuous thing for the tempter to willingly metamorphose into the tempted.

“You wish,” said Ciel, heart hammering. Slightly agog, he backed away from the demon and stood. The tank top was a nice compromise, displayed his scar prominently, especially with how inflamed it remained hours later. He reckoned it must have something to do with Sebastian’s devilish nature, and couldn’t be bothered by that fact.

Ciel scoffed when Sebastian emerged from the lagoon bone dry. “How is it that you can bend the laws of physics, but you can’t get rid of…” he flushed, pointing to the incubus’ crotch where a conspicuous bulge was practically bursting through the cotton of his trousers, “... of that thing…”

“That’s a matter of choice, Precious,” Sebastian laughed. “It’s as they say: You don’t have to get ready, if you stay ready.”

Ciel smacked Sebastian's arm playfully, “You’re incorrigible.”

“You’ll find I’m also right.”

They walked back towards the orphanage in this manner, the mood having lightened in some aspects: both of them feeling more or less satisfied for the time being. And in others, they were leaden: Ciel, for instance, was more aware of his proximity to Sebastian, and had unconsciously set a limit to the distance at which he was willing to be separated (which was approximately an arm’s length).

But desks at school were usually spread out more than three feet, and that fact alone had the omega reeling. He kept the sentiment buried deep, deep down, trying instead to offset a potential spike in his scent by taking comfort in the fact that his impending panic was likely the culprit behind the increased warmth he’d felt through the night and into the morning. Sebastian hadn’t mentioned noticing it, and Ciel was pretty sure he would have, if not only to use it as another excuse as to why they should not be returning to St-Augustine’s.

By the time they reached the front door to the orphanage (Sebastian had suggested that going to Ciel’s room unnecessarily might result in a quickie-turned-all-day-fuckfest), Ciel thought he might be coming down with a bit of a cold. The warmth had become kind of feverish, at least enough to give him chills, but was appeased immediately when the demon lent him his school blazer.

It smelled deliciously of the incubus, of sin and of that rich, bitter cocoa that had been used to summon him. The sleeves were too long, and the jacket proper came almost to his knees, but he felt comforted, safe.

Finny stumbled out of the front door, looking more a mess than usual (not that Ciel had the right to judge at that moment). His button up shirt was buttoned up wrong, his pocket linings were pulled out of his pockets, his tie was worn loosely, as was a heavy scarf, wrapped three times around his neck. To top if off, he was grossly disheveled, bore signs of obvious tiredness, and yet Ciel wondered if he’d ever seen him so happy.

“You look...” Ciel pointed out.

“Good?” Finny smiled, handing him buttered toast in a paper towel to share with Sebastian.

Sebastian declined, saying he was full, but it wasn’t exactly as if Ciel had offered. Despite having eaten three whole pomegranates this morning, the omega stuffed a triangle of the sliced bread into his mouth hungrily as they walked the familiar path to school. The incubus frowned; he should have probably fed the little thing a heartier diet prior to leaving Pholóē Oak. He made a mental note to stock his enchanted segment of the centaur’s forest with a wide variety of foods to entice Ciel’s taste buds.

He let the omegas pull ahead of him so they could catch up, and only half paid attention to their conversation. He was more interested in Ciel’s body language, how, although they were one in front of the other, he and Ciel moved synchronously, step for step. And if the demon slowed his pace, so did the omega. Experimentally, he stopped to tie his shoe (which he untied himself) and told them to go on and that he would catch up. Ciel had refused point blank; didn’t even turn his back to argue, he just casually continued his Dante’s Inferno conversation with Finny as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It seemed Sebastian wasn’t the only one to notice. The breeze carried a hint of his half-sister’s signature snort and he looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowed in an attempt to discover her whereabouts. By the time he stood again, he still hadn’t found Sieglinde; it wasn’t much of a surprise, she’d made an art of being invisible, and expected the same of those she trained for combat.

But it was one thing to remain unseen and quite another to resist being drawn out. Sebastian wanted to have his fun with the slight demoness since she clearly thought herself above the weaknesses associated with… predilection.

Normally, the task would be straightforward- use his incubic prowess to seduce the object of Sieglinde’s affections: a touch here, a croon there… it would be enough to have her barreling out of whatever hiding spot she’d secured to make an ass of herself by attacking him.

Sebastian smiled to himself, and running his tongue over his razored teeth, he stretched his hand out to pet the blond omega’s hair. His fingers hovered just over the baby fine wisps that blew in the wind and froze, opting instead for the slate head to the left, as if magnetically drawn to it.

He saw Ciel’s shoulders drop, comforted by the physical contact. Lingering a moment more, his hand slid from his hair to his ear and pulled playfully at the lobe before stuffing it back into his own pocket. Damn, he thought, a complication. He could hardly seduce his little master’s friend; Ciel likely wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t personal. Humans never did.

A life of abstinence and monogamy meant certain death for incubi and succubi alike; trysts outside the marriage bed were expected, even encouraged so that mates could feed off one another. When it came to prey, seduction was but a prelude to feeding, and this, playing with Sieglinde’s pet to lure her out into the open, was less than that! A meaningless game, something to fill the hours of tedious monotony when he and Ciel were not alone together.

“I’d love to understand Italian though,” Sebastian heard his little mate complain, “I’m sure the work is much better in its native language.”

The demon opened his mouth, about to offer the omega a much better translation than the one provided in the book Finny had handed him, when the gleam of wet cement up ahead caught his eye. Both omegas were unaware of the oncoming inconvenience, too caught up in their animated discussion of the deepest depravity of the human soul as told by Dante. They'd fallen in step one next to the other, their legs moving identically, at the same time: left, right, left, right…

Upon bringing their left ones up again, they ventured into pasty sidewalk territory. Before they could touch down, the incubus pushed them onto the grass, saving their yearly orphanage-issued loafers.

"Sebastian! What the…" Ciel griped from the ground, trousers dampening on the dewy grass.

"Why…" Finny chimed in.

But Sebastian only had ears for the low growl emanating from the nearest tree, one yard over. His lips spread mischievously and he nodded towards the wet sidewalk by way of explaining to the omegas.

"Well, at least help us to our feet if you're going to throw us to the ground!" Ciel said indignant, a little pout possessing his face.

"Indeed." Sebastian extended his hand and pulled him up. The omega fell into him, quite purposely, possessively tucking his small hand into his demon's back pocket and giving it a squeeze. A pleased hum rumbled in the incubus' chest.

He helped Finny next. The moment their hands locked together, a large branch from the nearest sycamore crashed to the ground, flattening the vacant doghouse beneath it. Sebastian barked a laugh, and tried to cover it with a false cough. “Damn allergies,” he muttered.

“What exactly are you allergic to?” Ciel smirked. Were demons even immunocompromised by anything?

“...” Sebastian shot him a bewildered, shut-the-fuck-up look.

“Well?” the omega urged, nudging the incubus. Sebastian was normally so quick-witted; this lapse of repartee was quite amusing.

“Pollen.”

“In September?” Finny snorted. Ciel pantomimed digging a hole.

“Ragweed is a serious threat, you ignorant sluts.”

The silence that followed was profound, except for the squash of soggy grass under their feet. Then Ciel giggled, “Ignorant sluts.”

Finny followed suit in a trill of bells kind of laughter. From a bush across the street, Sebastian saw emerald eyes turn toxic and smoke the foliage. Adorable. Apparently nobody was to touch the blond omega, or make him laugh. Interesting.

“You could always go ask Sister Francis for some Benadryl or something… maybe she has an anal option…” Ciel intonated.

As his little mate cast him a sly look, Sebastian noticed the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes; it was shadowed there, the humour of his statement just out of reach, like he’d forgotten how to react accordingly. And he’d brought up Francis’ name without wincing, without any indication that she had done him a serious wrong. It was likely for the best.

He threw his arm in unconscious protectiveness over Ciel’s shoulder, noticing only now the heat rolling off his skin. Was he ill? It would explain the slight vacancy of his gaze, that is, if he wasn’t missing parts of his soul.

“One could only be so lucky, Precious. Would you be willing to administer it?”

Ciel flushed, and a bead of sweat dripped along his hairline. “Shut up.”

Finally on the sidewalk again, Finny walked in reverse to chat up the newly mated pair. Sebastian could see St-Augustine’s a quick mile away and changed his tactic. He whistled a morbid tune under his breath, one too low for even the omegas to hear. It had the desired effect almost immediately. A large crow pecking at an adjacent overgrown garden of sunflowers promptly took off, circled overhead twice and shat on Finny’s shoulder.

“Oh my,” the demon exclaimed in false concern, nodding towards the white mess running down the taller omega’s arm.

“Gross…” Finny exasperated. And when he couldn’t think of anything more satisfying to say, repeated the sentiment. “Gross…”

“Allow me to assist you,” the incubus offered. He removed a silk handkerchief from his blazer breast pocket worn by Ciel, winking at his mate when he brushed his pert nipple through the fabric of his tank top -- a reminder of his affections for the boy he fancied. He cleaned the accident as best he could, holding the blond’s arm and invading his space.

One at a time, the lights lining the street burst dramatically in their bulbs. From his periphery, the demon could see Ciel’s head following the chaos and knew he must think the incubus responsible.

“Is it…” Ciel began, raising a brow.

“Certainly not,” Sebastian protested, grinning handsomely. He pulled Finny’s scarf from his neck, to make sure it wasn’t dirtied, and saw the mouth-shaped bruises along the blond’s throat and collar. “Oh, Finnian, you have a bit of a mess right here.” Gently, he rubbed the disgusted omega’s cheek with a clean bit of silk, “it must have splashed back when it hit.”

It took everything Sebastian had at that moment to not give himself over to a whooping fit of laughter. Finny’s green face and impending nausea was funny in and of itself, but the sound of pointed teeth gnashing together, the litany of Ancient Greek curses fizzing electrically in the wires strung along the street and the heat haze that began to rise off the asphalt were rewarding enough to warrant him wiping shit off some poor kid.

That was when Finny gave a faint whimper and swayed on the spot. Before Sebastian could so much as steady the omega, Sieglinde was standing next to him, supporting the majority of Finny's weight by looping his arm around her neck and holding him firmly by the waist. She glowered at her half-brother, incensed to such a point that Ciel felt threatened enough by her presence to take a few steps back.

“Sullivan, what a pleasant surprise,” said Sebastian, eyes shining with mirth. “What brings you to this neighbourhood?”

The incubus just wanted her to admit it out loud. Say the omega, he thought to himself, say you’re addicted to the scent of him, to his vulnerability.

Sebastian might have regarded the pair of them with curiosity, but Ciel was gawking. He was fixated on the female’s spiked boots and the scandalous dress-and-harness-combo she wore. Ciel bristled at Sebastian’s side, imaginary hackles coming up on his neck. Protectiveness saturated the air and the tiny omega shifted the weight on his feet as if poised to pounce on the demoness.

Sebastian was beyond amused now. He couldn’t tell what was funnier: his outward douchebaggery towards Finny, Sieglinde’s spectacle, or Ciel either wanting to protect Finny or his incubus from this newcomer. Could this day honestly get any better?

“Whoa there, chimera.” He put his arm out to stop Ciel before he got hurt, even though it would give them a legitimate reason to return to the forest if he did.

“Who are you?” Ciel spat more venomous than the situation warranted. After all, she wasn’t harming Finny. The aura of power she emanated was similar to Sebastian’s; it screamed danger but possessed none of the salacious impishness that made the incubus tolerable. The presence inside of him stirred again, it had been responsible for the initial impetus to action.

“This is my sister, Sullivan,” Sebastian introduced, waving a hand her way. There was no point in hiding it; Finny knew of their relation and would no doubt have questions for Ciel once they were alone.

“Half-sister,” growled Sieglinde. She doted over her omega, pressed a cool hand to his face to remove any trace of nausea he felt, magically rid him of the feces that had made itself home on his sweater.

Ciel was immediately at ease, not because of Sebastian’s proclamation, but rather because of the way she fawned over Finny. She aligned the mismatched buttons on his shirt, straightened his tie, even tucked his pocket linings into his trousers. He looked much more presentable, and much more at ease with her around. Ciel wondered idly if, to other people, Sebastian had this kind of effect on him.

Not even close, omega. You’re food for your mate until the Prince gets bored, nothing more, the pseudologoi whispered.

Ciel ignored it, drowned the malicious thought far into the sea of his mind. He started walking towards the school again and the others followed. “I didn’t know you had a sister, Sebastian.”

“Ugh, can you keep it down? I don’t want anyone else knowing,” said Sieglinde. She laced her fingers with Finny’s.

“She loves me,” Sebastian teased in a sing-song voice, mussing her hair from behind.

“Go to Hell,” she spoke from the side of her mouth.

“Can’t.

“Can’t or won’t?” Sieglinde pressed vindictively, looking at him over her shoulder with an unblinking stare.

Sebastian knew she was alluding to his betrothed and to his responsibilities, but he shifted the tone of the conversation by pulling Ciel closer to him. “Won’t,” he replied firmly.

The answer brought Ciel up short, and he stumbled over his own feet. Won’t, he mouthed to himself, smiling. He brought the sleeves of the blazer he was wearing, belonging to Sebastian, up to his nose and inhaled the incubus’ scent deeply. Peacefulness expanded inside of him, like water rippling after a stone had been tossed into a calm lake.

The feeling carried him to the school and through a brief discussion of them all being on the same page where it concerned entities from the Underworld. He was glad not to have to hide that from Finny anymore, and at the same time, he couldn’t wait to find out what the hell was going on between him and his mate’s half-sister.

They parted company at the front doors just after first period; Sebastian and Ciel going to their lockers, and Finny hanging back to say goodbye to the demoness.

The atmosphere was sombre. Sure, it was Monday morning, but something oppressive filled the hallways. Students were huddled, muttering in small groups, rather than shouting at one another from across the hall about their weekend exploits. Ciel couldn’t help but feel like he and Sebastian had missed something important. They both had spare first period, and he doubted anything of consequence had occurred during that time.

Ciel shrugged off the paranoia, helped by the omegas that kept shooting desirous, covert glances at Sebastian. He made a slight growling noise at the back of his throat as he wiggled out of his demon’s blazer to show them the swollen, silvered scar at the base of his neck. Sebastian offered to take the jacket back, but Ciel bared his teeth at him rapaciously, opting instead to tie it around his own waist.

Pride filled the incubus. Here was his little master, walking tall in the halls of a school where he’d been ridiculed, bullied and persecuted. Sebastian enjoyed Ciel staring down weaker omegas and even a few alphas. He walked with a sense of entitlement, grasping his demon’s hand in his own and led him to his locker.

Not bothering to read the room, or notice that every alpha and omega were keeping a healthy distance from one another, Ciel roughly pushed Sebastian against his locker. He unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt, then tucked Sebastian’s long onyx fringe behind his ear to display his mark upon the demon’s neck, just below his lobe. A small audience watched as he fisted the incubus’ tie and dragged him down to his level, where he proceeded to scent him aggressively. The small gland upon the omega’s neck was damp with the redolence of pomegranate, and Ciel smeared it along the graceful column of the incubus, the hot friction from rubbing skin on skin exacerbating the possessive claim.

Around them, harsh breathing picked up, some people turned away -- uncomfortable by the show of dominance by an omega. Some even backed away, mildly threatened by the claim’s potency.

Though he’d had many contractors in the past, Sebastian had never felt so thoroughly owned. His eyes were wide one moment, then rolling to the back of his head the next as he tried desperately to control the impulse of taking Ciel in front of the students. His desire was heating through him, clenching his teeth and tightening his lungs. He badly wanted to bend him over the nearby banister, to touch him, to fuck him. To fill him with fingers, tongue and cock.

Under the jacket, Sebastian’s fingers squeezed around Ciel’s small waist, and as subtly as he could, he rubbed his growing length against the boy’s belly. He felt so good, so soft and warm. He smelled even better. Everything about him was inviting. A black-nailed thumb traced the omega’s bottom lip and the give was spectacular, accommodating. He would love to plunder that little mouth, to cram it full of himself until Ciel’s pleading blue eyes shone.

Or better yet, to kiss it. To taste the pomegranate on his tongue, to know Ciel’s breath in his arteries and feel it reviving him.

Ciel heard shocking jeers behind them, and someone audibly saying: “but the assembly!” The omega’s lust-addled mind reeled with an abundance of questions. When had they had an assembly? Since when was it a crime to make out with one’s mate in the hallways?

The answer to both questions was This Morning.

“Misters Phantomhive and Michaelis,” came the disciplinary voice of Sister Francis from down the hall.

Ciel pulled away immediately, flushed from head to toe. He turned on the spot, pressed against Sebastian. The strain of the incubus’s cock against his back was a reminder he didn’t need at the moment. He was, however, surprised to feel Sebastian stiffen behind him (not in that way); which was surprising, since the demon wasn’t normally affected by another alpha’s presence.

“Either you both missed the assembly this morning, or you’re nearing your heat, Phantomhive. If it’s the latter, I’ll ask you to call Mr. Sutcliffe to come gather you up.”

“No need to worry about that, Sister. I…” Ciel trailed off, unsure why he felt compelled to explain to the nun that he didn’t get heats like other omegas.

I know you’re feeling like you got the biggest balls in the world right now, omega, but please keep your goddamn mouth shut, the pseudologoi warned inside him. It cowered, hiding itself within the layers that made up Ciel’s soul.

Ciel’s mouth opened in retaliation instead.

“Yes?” Francis asked.

Sebastian scanned the alpha’s face for any sign of recognition of what she’d done. There were none. “Ciel is just fine, Sister. We did in fact miss your assembly, since we both had spare this morning.”

“Well then, Michaelis, I strongly suggest you speak to your peers about it before the bell rings in…” she looked at her wristwatch, “a minute, so that you’re not late to your next class.” Her lip downturned in disgust when she took sight of Ciel’s glistening gland and scar, and the matching one on the incubus’ neck. “And be warned, any displays such as the one I just interrupted will result in your prompt expulsion. Do I make myself clear?”

Ciel nodded, but Sebastian merely held her gaze. She clearly didn’t remember anything about him, but subliminal damage had been done nonetheless. She bore the same miserable expression as a puritan on a witch hunt.

“Michaelis?”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Oh, and do both cover yourself up a scant, won’t you? You’re looking disgraceful.” She left them, walking away with a slight limp.

That’s when Finny rushed towards them, breathless.

“The… assembly… did you… hear… about it?”

“Only that there was one,” Ciel admitted, throwing the blazer back on.

“Well…” Finny held up a finger to tell them to wait as he caught his breath. “They’ve reinstated segregation at the school.”

Sebastian groaned. Ciel reached for the demon instinctively in defiance of the news.

“As of second period, the classes are being taught omegas only and alphas only. Alphas have the old classrooms, we’re in the portables,” Finny explained, then noticing Ciel’s anxiety added, “The good news is that we get to be together?” It was a small consolation to the tiny omega, and Finny knew it.

“You’re quite sure?” Ciel asked, bringing Sebastian’s wrist unconsciously to his neck. His omegan essence saturated the incubus’ skin. It held a hint of panic and made it more acerbic than usual.

“Mhmm, Irene told me. She seemed really happy about it for some reason. Ugh, don’t know why, she’s such a knot hole.” It was unlike Finny to bash other omegas, but the exchange she’d had with him had left a sour taste in his mouth. Make sure you find Phantomhive and tell him, she had instructed. Since when had she given a damn about Ciel?

“It’s okay, Precious. I’ll see you at lunch... You’ve managed years at St-Augustine’s without me.” Sebastian didn’t know what to make of Ciel’s behaviour, didn’t understand his sudden consternation. He moved aside to let the omega gather his things from his locker and looked to Finny for help.

“Scent him back…” the blond omega mouthed soundlessly, and Sebastian noticed only then that he smelled faintly of figs and fennel like his half-sister.

Both the incubus’ hands came up, confused. He didn’t have a gland he could draw from, the way Ciel did, but he could easily leave his scent upon the small thing if that’s what he needed.

The bell rang, and he told Finny to keep an eye out for him while the students moved chaotically to their next class.

Without so much as turning Ciel around, he pushed the slate hair out of the way, and ran his tongue languidly along the length of his neck, breathing hot onto the skin. The black saliva darkened the strip of skin it wet, appearing like a shadowed tattoo. He spun Ciel, and looked him hard in the eyes as he mouthed along the omega’s wrists, finishing with a soft kiss on the back of his hand. They shuddered together, the demon purring, the omega whimpering a broken thank you.

Finny took his friend by the hand and pulled him towards the doors that led to the school’s backyard where the portables were located. They would be fine for now, but soon enough, they would be cold and uncomfortable.

The only good thing to come out of the whole situation was that it made Sebastian’s presence at the school redundant. Ciel had asked to be kept safe from alphas, and now with only a teacher to contend with, the omega was practically invulnerable. Sebastian toyed with the idea of dropping out altogether, of merely accompanying the boy to and from school; what was the point of staying to attend class, he speculated.

Lunch periods, he answered himself. And spares spent together.

The halls were practically empty now. He would be late for physics, but he hardly cared. They still hadn’t found a replacement for Druitt, so it would be a read-the-text-and-answer-questions period. He sauntered to the first floor and heard someone’s heels click-clacking from behind.

Irene ran past him towards her class, skirt much too short, tight, blonde curls oddly out of place. Her hair had been silky and sleek the last time he’d seen her in class. Now it all but writhed on her head, each strand like a serpent, vicious, lethal and ready to strike. She slowed when she’d put thirty feet between them, and before she exited, she turned to face him, to blow him a kiss. Her eyes shifted from lavender to maroon as she puckered her inhumanly crimson lips.

Deja-vu plunged Sebastian’s heart into the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but that uncertainty didn’t have him hesitating. Speed walking past his class, he followed her outside, but once he was there, he could not tell which portable she’d gone in.

He sniffed at the air, looking for Ciel’s portable, and found it with ease. The omega’s scent was branded onto his brain. The curtains to that classroom were drawn, and he could only vaguely make out a lanky silhouette that belonged to a teacher taking attendance. He could hear through the thin walls, and located his master’s heartbeat almost as easily as he had the uniquely sweet pomegranate bouquet.

“You can’t go in there,” Sieglinde told him, coming around the corner.

Ah, so she’d been worried too. “Did you see her? That blonde, was she…”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, brother.”

So, she was simply there keeping guard on her omega, was she? He could use that to his advantage if need be. “Have you found Beast yet?”

Sieglinde looked less than contrite. “I got sidetracked.” She glared at him, willing him to come down on her for it.

“I see, how valiant of you.”

“What’s your point, Sebastian?”

“I can’t be sure, but there’s this blonde…”

Sieglinde pushed her brother against an empty portable, and a switchblade appeared uncomfortably close to his nuts. “For fuck’s sakes, brother. That little one is devoted to you already, and you just…” She lowered her tone, it was seething, meant business. “If you break the heart of Finnian’s friend, I swear to dad, you’ll have no genitals with which to philander anymore.”

“No! Not like that. Just listen. The blonde that went in there last, her name is Irene. She… I have a bad feeling about her, and I wouldn’t want her to use Finnian to get to Ciel, if you know what I mean.” It was a simple enough threat to involve Sieglinde.

She narrowed her eyes. “If you want me to watch your little omega, at least have the balls to say it.” She put her blade away in her boot.

The sound of Ciel’s heart that had up until a moment ago calmed the incubus, raced beyond what was healthy. The sound was steadily drowning out as if a barrier were being placed between the inside of the classroom and the outside. “I… I need your help.”

“Fine, you can go to class, I’ll patrol the perimeter for today.”

Sebastian shook his head, growing increasingly worried when even the teacher’s voice grew too faint to notice. He paced the side of the building in a blur, worry working him up to a frenzy. He should just go in, take the boy back to the forest. But Ciel would be expelled, and he’d already made the importance of his education quite plain. “Not good enough…”

“What do you mean, not good enough?”

Ciel had taken a seat at the far right of the portable, between the wall and Finny, with a singular desk in front of him. The omegas had spilled into the room, every single one of them disgruntled by the change. Odd, thought Ciel, they should all be grateful not to be subjugated to the teeters and catcalls of the alphas. They might actually learn something this way. Still, he knew some of them were mated, and he understood the ache that presented as well.

He eavesdropped, only partially listening to Finny’s conversation with a few omegas who recounted the assembly. He focused on the scent of his demon coming off the blazer, fingered the barely-healed mark along his shoulder and did the mental math of how long he would have to endure physics without the incubus.

Seventy-two minutes. His stomach gave a lurch, and he pat it, only realizing how hungry he was. Funny, given how much he’d eaten this morning. His appetite was at an all-time high, and he suddenly couldn’t wait for lunch, hoping they were serving something comforting like meatloaf, or chicken noodle soup.

“...I said, where’ve you been, Ciel?”

Ciel’s eyes lifted from the desk and he saw Irene waving a hand in front of his face. He recoiled, both from her strong scent and how forcefully she was staring at him. Something like loathing marred her otherwise beautiful face.

“That’s hardly any of your business,” he bit back. He could have sworn her eyes lit with infamy when she glared at him.

“Were you with Sebastian?” Irene demanded.

Ciel stood to change desks, but Irene’s hand slammed down onto his, holding him in place. He yelped under his breath, and tried in vain to pull it out from under hers.

“Well…”

“So what if I was?” Faster than should be possible, Ciel’s fingers were numbing, the tips turning blue. Finny still had his back turned to him, talking to the other omegas and the teacher was busy taking attendance.

“Stay away from him,” Irene menaced. Every word seemed punctuated with contempt.

“He’s mine,” Ciel answered, tight-lipped. The girl added more pressure to the back of his hand, where Sebastian had, moments ago, kissed. His eyes pinched shut for the briefest of seconds when he felt the give of a bone. Just a hairline fracture, he told himself, no big deal. Not big enough to look away of call out for help.

“You don’t get to keep what’s not yours, omega,” Irene scowled. “I’m giving you the chance to walk away, because you’re too ignorant to know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Ciel swallowed. “And if I don’t?”

Irene shrugged. “I was hoping to spare the innocent bystanders, your little friend, for instance, but you give me no choice.” She released Ciel’s hand and stood only to swoop down on him. She was an inch from his face, held his neck in a vice grip.

Ciel’s scream was choked before it even saw the light of day. His eyes watered. Couldn’t anyone see what was going on? They were all turned away, looking towards the door. There may have been a knock, or a distraction.

Vaguely, conscientiousness swimming, he heard Mister Doyle ask: “Sullivan? Is there a Sullivan here?”

The weight on his windpipe disappeared and Ciel was thrown back, falling off his chair. The class turned towards him, and assuming he’d lost his balance, turned back towards the door. Irene had miraculously made it to the far corner in the blink of an eye. She too was invested in the new arrival, but from the looks of her, she wasn’t pleased.

“I’m here,” said the sardonic voice of a uniform-clad demonic half-sister.

Chapter Text

Sebastian stood outside the portable for a solid three minutes after Sieglinde disappeared into it. Whomever had possessed Irene had done an excellent job of shielding their true identity and of putting up a proper barrier between the in and the out. As a result, he was more than a little reluctant to go to class.

But honestly, it wasn’t the only reason. Physics sucked. Being a student sucked. When would he, the incubic Prince of Hell, ever need to know about classical mechanics, when universal laws didn't apply to him? Would there ever be a time where he'd be sat upon Hades' throne and Echidna would come slithering in, panting, 'Your Majesty! Your Majesty! A physical pendulum in the Pit swinging over Poe for eternity consists of a rod of mass m and length l to the end of which is attached a solid blade of mass M, constrained to swing from a pivot in a vertical plane. Please! We pray you tell us; what is the period of small oscillations?

“Easy-peasy,” he would tell Echidna in front of a large audience awaiting his genius response with bated breath. His finger would come up pedantically and he would declare: “This is a trick question; for such a scenario would never present itself. I would rather rot in a cell, starved, than take my Father’s throne.”

Screw Euclid, Galileo and Newton. The only bodies in motion he needed to know about were his and Ciel's.

Together...

Like for sex.

Demonic sigh.

At least having his omega around made the content mildly more tolerable than torture. Just watching Ciel lick his lips, bite his lips, or wrap them around the end of his pencil, blocked out the teacher’s droning for minutes at a time.

What was he supposed to do now? Stare at Ronald, and his two-toned skunk hair? Make goo-goo eyes at Chester while the freakish young alpha palmed his knot under the desk?

Fuck that! School was such a colossal waste of time.

Another demonic sigh.

A waste of time that was important to Ciel.

He schlepped back to the main building with the same kind of enthusiasm death row inmates displayed walking to their execution, and an abundance of cheap, fall-coloured banners reminded him of something else Ciel held dear: Homecoming.

The propaganda advertised that ticket sales were held in the Student Affairs office as of last week, but that they were quickly selling out. Sebastian hardly cared. He had no issues crashing a party. Bypassing the physics classroom, he took the stairs to the second floor two by two, and when he walked into the office, it was in a manner that clearly stated he owned the joint. He plopped himself on the musty sofa next to the nerdy beta who’d been named student body president and president of the science club. Both by acclamation.

Tearing his eyes away from the massive chemistry textbook he read, Othello dog-eared his page with an exasperated, disdainful lament.

The incubus wondered if this was the closest thing to edging the nerd ever experienced.

"Can I help you, alpha?"

The worked-in sofa absorbed Sebastian’s weight when he sank into it. He threw his stupidly long legs onto the coffee table and crossed his arms behind his head. His elbow hit the corner of Othello's glasses, and set them off-side for hilarious effect. At a nearby table, three omegas giggled conspiratorially behind their hands, their attention volleying between himself and the beta. The nerd re-adjusted his glasses with as much dignity as he could, but it wavered the moment the incubus cleared his throat dramatically and made his intentions known.

"So who's dick do I gotta suck to get two tickets to Homecoming?"

The room went quiet. After a moment, he heard a couple of throats clear (were those offers?), the rustle of cheap polyester pants as thighs rubbed together, then the sound of his own hand slapping his forehead --- right… he was bound to a mate now, he couldn't exactly go around exchanging sex for favours.

"Ex-excuse me?" Othello sputtered, nose wrinkled with disgust.

"Homecoming. I want two tickets."

Othello sighed, pushing the alpha's legs off the coffee table before reaching for the lockbox next to them. "For you and a…” he swallowed, nostrils flaring a bit, “a mate?"

Sebastian grinned wide. Othello could obviously detect Ciel’s claim, but it seemed to make him more awkward than he already was. He couldn’t understand why. The incubus raised his elbow, smelling his armpit in the same way that people who weren’t sure if they were wearing deodorant did. Everything smelled pleasant enough to him; Ciel’s scent had washed over him like comforting fog on a ruby morning: it was all ice and pomegranate.

“Yes. My mate…” The words were thick and clumsy on Sebastian’s tongue. At the table in the far corner of the room, he heard omegan hearts break.

“Is your mate nearing their heat? Because they probably shouldn’t come if--”

“That’s rude,” Sebastian cut the beta off reflexively. He’d assumed that this distinct part of the omega cycle was somewhat personal. But now that he thought about it, hadn’t Francis been just as blunt in her public inquisition of Ciel less than an hour ago?

Sex wasn’t exactly taboo in the Underworld, but something about his intimate moments with Ciel felt private. Sue him - a greedy predator such as he was not about to share a single part of his prey with anyone else. The omega was his, and his alone to covet and crave. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It’s my business if it starts a rampage at school; insurance doesn’t cover us for that. Not to mention the world of danger your omega could be in; it’s not like we’ve gone and hired enough security to ward off a horde of horny alphas.” Othello wasn’t sorry he’d asked, it was his job as student body president, something customary he asked everyone wanting to purchase tickets. Regardless, he rose and backed away from the infamous alpha whose aura peaked at the overblown intrusiveness. “No offense, but you don’t strike me as someone who’s been mated very long. Why don’t you give this a read...”

Othello handed him a lavender folded pamphlet from a series of information guides that lined the counter when people came in.

So Your Mate Is Going Into Heat.” Sebastian read the pamphlet's title out loud once, twice and on the third time, he was still dumbfounded. His lip curled as he assessed the topmost image: a horribly rendered clipart of a wailing omega with pigtails sitting in a puddle of her own slick. The girl in question had been infantilized to a disturbing degree, she was gripping a child’s blanket, and wore a bib over her school uniform to absorb both tears and slobber, -- even devils couldn’t get off to this shit, and that was saying something. What the hell was wrong with these Catholics?

“Greeeeeeat. Awesome. Thanks,” he nodded exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes. “I’ll read this the next time I feel like being lobotomized.”

Othello put both hands up. “Whatever, dude, I’m just trying to help. There’s information about scent blockers and heat suppressants in there too. ”

“You can help me by giving me some tickets,” Sebastian insisted, stuffing the pamphlet in his back pocket.

"Sure." The beta was even less friendly after the rebuff. He opened the box and the insides resembled the tray of a miniature cash register. Where bills should have been, was a stack of orange tickets bound by an elastic band. Othello removed two of them and held them out to Sebastian, along with an open palm. "That'll be twenty dollars."

Right. Money.

"How about an IOU?" The incubus asked with a seductive lilt. He moved in on the bespectacled beta until his heels were up against the wall. "Or maybe you can be persuaded otherwise?"

Othello swallowed convulsively and his eyes followed Sebastian's fist as it more or less slammed next to his head. "You… you don't have anything I want, alpha. I'm not in need of a knot."

Sebastian saw the unconscious glance Othello gave the swooning group of omegas giggling at the table. His black tipped nail found the beta's chin and tilted it upwards so that their eyes could meet decisively. "Oh, I know beta… I know…"

A minute later, Sebastian shut the door of the student association office behind him. He fanned himself with four tickets, feeling he owed Sieglinde.

From beyond the now scent-heavy office he could make out the beta’s nervous words. "I… I can't possibly… not all at once…"

"Please beta," one of them begged, and there was an audible sound of trousers hitting the floor.

"I'll watch… this time…" said another, already breathless. The beta replied beseechingly, but his remark was drowned by a moan and a “too late, I’ve already started.”

"Lemme sit on your face," said a third, and the incubus could see this omega climb atop the sofa through the door's frosted glass.

Satisfied, Sebastian walked away, neglecting to put up a sound barrier to mask his payment for the tickets.

Ciel soothed his fractured hand under his desk; nothing Doyle had said in the last ten minutes had penetrated his skull.

“Omega?”

“Huh?” Ciel immediately looked towards the front of the class, but the teacher still had his back turned towards them, writing something on the board.

“Omega...”

It was Sebastian’s sister. She was leaning over the aisle, looking uncomfortable dressed in all that cotton and polyester. Her overall appearance was mild, but she couldn’t escape the obvious signs that pegged her as a soldier: eyes always scanning her surroundings, checking exits and windows, body sitting upright, rigid and ready...

Ciel sighed. “Ciel. My name is Ciel.”

She didn’t acknowledge the subtle request, didn’t even look him in the eyes as she plowed on. “Switch seats with me…”

“Now?”

Finny perked up; if Ciel switched with Sieglinde, they would be sitting next to one another. His excitement was palpable; baby roses could have sprouted from the floor and carpeted the whole classroom. Little sniffs could be heard, and in a few cases, some omegas became more rigid in their seats than the demon in their midst.

“Oh my god, Fin, calm down,” Ciel warned, gathering his books and swapping swiftly with Sieglinde.

Now with her back to the corner, Sieglinde was a bit more at ease -- that was one less angle to worry about. True, Ciel was closer to her mark, but she was confident she could reach him first if necessary.

“Psst… Omega…”

Ciel swore under his breath, made a conditioned fist and regretted it. Air escaped in a pacifying hiss from between his teeth. Were Hell’s siblings in a competition to see which of the two was more annoying? Newsflash: they were both winning.

“I’m trying to learn, hellspawn.”

“No you’re not,” she dissented, cocking her head, “you’re hurt. I can smell it.”

“How can you?” Ciel raised a brow and nodded towards his orphanage-mate. Someone had had the good sense to open a window, or three.

“Something to share, Mr. Phantomhive?” Doyle asked. Everyone turned, but not Irene. That omega kept her eyes determinately glued to the teacher, except when he crossed an imaginary line in the middle of the room, then she lowered them. It was clear it wasn’t done out of shame. The avoidance was strategic. Perhaps her eyes would give her motives away. Perhaps she was intimidated by the newcomer.

“No, Mister Doyle,” Ciel said.

“Good. Now that you’ve all read Canto V of Inferno, I’d like you to get into groups of three to discuss what Dante meant in line thirty-nine, “... of those who betrayed reason to their appetite.”

Sieglinde noted Ciel’s hesitance as he turned his body towards Finny and herself. He angled his chair to keep Irene in his line of vision. Not bad, she thought with a nod, her half-brother might have stumbled upon an astute master for the first time.

Once a din of uninsightful analyses fell over the classroom, the demoness addressed the smallest of omegas. “I imagine since you’re reasonably acquainted with the incubus, you’re quite well-versed in the concept of betraying brains for boners? Why don’t you tackle this one…”

Ciel ignored the ribbing. Ignored the pang of jealous longing that hardened his stomach when Finny gasped. Ciel knew that Sieglinde was touching his friend. By the sound and smell of it, she'd already committed to memory where he liked it best.

Despite both his damaged hand and heart throbbing achingly, he shifted his chair to shield what might be seen under the desk. It would cause a minor scandal; strictly speaking, omegas weren’t meant to couple - not that Sieglinde: Warrior Princess was one, but if she'd chosen to attend Ciel's class, this was obviously her cover.

“Why are you here? Really? Did Sebastian send you?”

“I’m not here for my own health,” said Sieglinde, though she did spare a moment to gaze affectionately at Finny. Loathing replaced the warmth when she turned her attention on Irene, seated with Nina and Maurice. “The blonde…”

“What about her?” Ciel interrupted. He was in no rush to admit that the buxom omega had attempted to choke him; he didn’t need Sebastian going all mother hen on him. Besides, Irene hardly figured into their contract, which clearly stated that the incubus was to keep him safe from alphas, and she was was no more an alpha than Sebastian was. But it was her threat of: ‘I was hoping to spare the innocent bystanders, your little friend, for instance,’ that broke Ciel’s silence on the matter.

“She hurt you. What did I walk in on?”

“Oh, you know… your typical omegan mid-morning asphyxiation.” Ciel waved his injured hand around nonchalantly and couldn't successfully hide the wince that accompanied it.

Sieglinde seized his hand between her own and applied a gentle incalescence to it. There was a kind of expert precision in the way she manipulated his fingers, as if each were a delicate vertebrae to be massaged. It wasn’t much different than what he’d heard chiropractors did, except that in this case, it was his hand she was aligning, not his spine.

Ciel’s eyes found Finny’s immediately to make sure he was okay with the physical contact. He’d seen some omegas get riled up for much less; he for example detested the way others had ogled his mate, and it had crossed his mind (albeit briefly) to suplex them; failing that, an inverted spladle would have also suited them nicely.

But Finny’s face only showed concern. “She tried to choke you?” he muttered. An acrimonious scent of guilt plummeted between them like a heavy weight. Both omegas seemed to follow it with their eyes, keeping them downcast. Finny’s shame stemmed from not having noticed, Ciel’s for worrying his friend unnecessarily when the outcome hadn’t been much worse than tumbling over in his chair.

“It’s not a big deal,” Ciel and Sieglinde assuaged simultaneously. She released his hand, now as good as new, and scooched her chair noiselessly closer to Finny. The proximity worked like a balm to a wound for the other omega. His posture sagged comfortingly against her and he let out a breath he scarcely knew he was holding.

“So you’re here for Irene?” Ciel prompted.

“Ish…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ciel inquired, and not a moment to soon.

Doyle overheard the question and assumed their trio was still deep in conversation about the quote. “Ah, but that’s the point of the discussion, Phantomhive. Keep going, you have three minutes left before we take up the answers.”

Ciel waited for the teacher to move on to another group before opening his mouth again. This time, Finny beat him to it.

“Ish as in, you’re here for what’s inside of Irene?” The blond scoffed, taking in his friend’s look of insulting astonishment. “Oh gimme a break, Ciel. Irene’s always been trash, but she’s never been aggressive.”

With a little less subtlety than a hard-on hidden by a wet toga, the three of them stared at Irene, who sermonized her group regarding the unreliability of logic. “Appetite won’t lie to you,” she stated, “when you feel it here,” she touched Nina’s belly, “or right here,” she groped at the apex of Maurice’s thighs, “you know it’s real. You can talk yourself out of love, but you can’t talk yourself out of hunger. Sure, maybe you can put it off for a while, but it always comes back to bite you. Hard.”

Though Sebastian had never uttered those exact words, Ciel was certain that Irene’s tirade would have been right up his alley. “Fair point. But it’s still quite the leap, Fin.”

“Is it though? I mean…” Finny looked apologetically at Sieglinde and lost himself to her for a moment. A little smitten and dumbstruck, he shook his head. “Just consider with whom you’ve been spending a majority of your time...”

“The devil is far from being alone; he sees a great deal of company,” Sieglinde recited Thoreau as if to prove her omega’s point. “You’re right, Sunshine.”

“He is?!?” How had Ciel overlooked that? He’d seen Sebastian do some pretty incredible things. Knew he was capable of much worse if provoked. But the idea of possession seemed a little kitschy. Hollywood-fake. Twelve-year olds with spinning heads puking on themselves fake.

“Stop looking so shocked, Ciel!” Finny complained, starting to take Ciel’s disbelief personally.

The tiny omega complied. “So this… your kind does this? Possesses people?” He asked dubiously. The last thing he wanted was to come off as ungrateful when she was there to put herself between him and harm’s way, and yet, derisiveness was present in every syllable that spilled from his lips.

“No. Not usually.” Sieglinde didn’t look at Ciel when she answered him. She wasn’t exactly deceiving him, but she found herself unable to focus on both reading his face, and warping the amplitude of surrounding sound waves, so that something resembling gobbledygook reached Irene’s ears instead of what they were actually saying. The normally simple feat (something she was accustomed to doing in her sleep), was proving to be more challenging due to the waves refusing to bend to her will. Interference. Cunning witch.

Unwilling to take any risks, Sieglinde ripped out a sheet of paper from Finny’s binder and wrote her explanation, all while reciting the Greek alphabet to distract from the tell-tale scratching sound of lead on paper.

No, it’s a disgusting thing to do among our kind. Lowly. Only shitty demons do this. The pseudologoi were renown for this.

“What’s the pseu--”

Sieglinde pressed a manicured claw to Finny’s lips.

The personification of lies. You can’t believe a thing they say. They were cast out of our kingdom ages ago. They give us a bad name. Couldn’t make contracts anymore if people expected you to renege on them. Nasty pieces of work, pseudologoi. Now we hunt them for sport. They’re all but extinct. Mostly on my watch.

The demoness looked proud. Ciel shifted restlessly in his seat. Though unspoken, each of her words read like venomous hisses. Part of him wanted to own up to what was inside him so that she could get rid of it. Another smaller part, the naive part, thought, ‘What if this lying demon isn’t lying? What if removing it means that I die?’ He shuddered. Maybe a year ago it wouldn’t have mattered. Things were different now.

Better to not take that risk then, omega, the voice within said. She’d love nothing more than to gut you to get to me.

Ciel stole the pencil out of the demoness’ hand and wrote his own message. He felt the presence at his core hold its breath through the tightening of his soul.

So that’s who you think is possessing Irene? A seu pseudol lying demon?

Sieglinde shook her head. “I wish,” she mouthed. Those are easy to get rid of as long as you don’t mind killing the host.

Ciel’s mouth went dry.

“Then what?” Finny asked, shooting covert glances towards the front of the class. He was all but throwing daggers at Irene. It’s as if he’d taken on part of Sieglinde’s hate by osmosis.

She took back her pencil. We lost her, you see. I don’t know what happened, we had eyes on her. But she.... We think she tracked my brother back here. He’s not exactly difficult to find, especially since you and him have been…

“Who?” Ciel breathed.

B-E-A-S-T. My dumbass brother’s betrothed.

Outrage spiked in the classroom. It was sudden and suffocating. Nearby omegas choked and sputtered, some clutched their throats in a knee-jerk reaction. Ciel’s eyes flashed dangerously as he stood. His chair was knocked over and it clattered noisily in the otherwise silent space.

“His WHAT?”

Chapter Text

Sebastian swallowed hard, wrinkling his nose in disgust when he read the specials sloppily written out on the cafeteria chalkboard. None of the options were appealing (to him at least); they were all heavy, described as ‘Comfort Food’ and likely to put you to sleep mid-day. He picked up a tray regardless and noisily pushed it along the counter made up of those metal wheels. There were no students in the cafeteria yet, so he could take his time deciding.

The beta behind the steamed plastic partition didn’t seem to think so. “Are you going to make a decision before Hell freezes over, Alpha?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, he knew for a fact that parts of Hell were frozen over. Cocytus was a popular tourist destination for demons and the real estate market was booming around the icy lake. Instead, he simply ordered one of each item: lasagna, meatloaf and mac n’ cheese. He wasn’t sure which Ciel preferred or what he’d be in the mood for, but surely one of them would interest him. And if it didn’t, he got him a chocolate cupcake iced to the high heavens just in case.

Sebastian walked his tray over to the far end of the cafeteria and sat facing the entrance so he could see his omega coming. The Homecoming tickets were burning in his back pocket. He’d finally done something right by Ciel and he couldn't wait to show him. Normally, incubi expected something in the way of a reward for going above and beyond, but he found himself quite content to be providing for his little master, enjoying his smiles and feeling the warmth of platonic satiation roll off him in sweetened waves of regal ambrosia.

While he always craved the omega in one lecherous way or the other, he was coming to appreciate the palatability of his master's praise -- which was why he'd procured an extra two tickets for Finny. Ciel's 'good boy, Sebastian', or 'atta demon', were a kind of an amuse-bouche in the foreplay realm. It wasn’t that Sebastian would say no to proper sustenance if it was offered (as if he’d pass up the opportunity to feed from Ciel), but he was pleasantly surprised that he was not presuming it would come -- whatever that meant.

The bell ending the period rang and students started flooding into the lunch room. Mated alphas and omegas could be seen running to one another, kissing and scenting themselves aggressively. Sebastian idly wondered how anyone would manage to eat with the steadily increasing stench when a voice called out for him among the clamour of reunion.

Well, they hadn't exactly called out for him, it was more of a menacing bark, a contentious finger point in his general direction and four words that had him bearing his teeth threateningly.

"What did you call me?" Sebastian growled and the lights flickered overhead.

"A son of a bitch!" Cheslock repeated, stomping towards him.

If it wasn't for all the lost time making up and making out that was going on in the cafeteria, the accusation would have definitely drawn a crowd around the two prominent alphas.

"My mother was no bitch." Sebastian’s eyes glowed arillus red and Cheslock came to a halt before the table. If it was possible, both his stupid deathawk of a hairstyle and the scar on his face blanched.

“Riiiight. Bet she's the one that taught you to steal bikes?”

“Your piece of shit bike? This is what you’re disrespecting my dead mum for?” Sebastian deadpanned. He gave the nervy alpha a once-over, took in the topmost button which was undone and the necktie hanging loosely around his neck. He fancied himself a rebel wearing all that liner, painting his nails and piercing his ears multiple times. Edgelord, Sebastian snorted under his breath.

“What?” Cheslock asked.

Sebastian was sure the alpha had heard him perfectly clear, but he had no issues repeating himself just this once. “I called you ‘Edgelord’, because I don’t know your name.”

Cheslock moved closer, slamming his painted hands on the table. It shook and upended Ciel’s cupcake, smooshing the frosting against the moderately clean table. Fucker. He would pay for that.

“I’m pretty sure I told you outside of class after you called me ‘Buddy’ but before you stole my bike.”

“And I’m pretty sure I didn’t care enough to remember. However, I do apologize. At first, I mistook you for a rebel, but rebels don’t stink of insecurity. You’re a lost little lamb, aren’t you, Buddy?” Sebastian paused, admiring the slight pout of Cheslock’s pierced lip. “Must be very difficult trying to stand out, when all you’re really doing is copying geriatric punk bands from back in their heyday…”

The pout was demoted to a full-out gape. ‘That’ll teach you’, Sebastian smiled internally, but wasn’t done. If it’s originality the knothead wanted, he’d not only take it away from him, but he’d make the statement actually look appealing. Gasping Cheslock by the hands, he stared into his fishy eyes, and felt the hair recede at the sides of his own head. It became so short, it had the sudden appearance of having been shaved. The strip of hair down the center of Sebastian’s head elongated slightly and coifed itself into a shock of white. It looked windblown, and if the reflection in Cheslock’s rounded, horrified eyes was anything to go by, it was at least a hundred times better than the original.

The upset alpha ripped his hands away from Sebastian, and began cursing up a storm. Exactly what nonsense he was spewing was lost on the incubus. In his periphery, Sebastian had seen the school nurse, accompanied by some interning students, run past the cafeteria entrance. He heard the door leading to the outside get pushed open, then slam shut.

“Are you listening to me, pencil dick?”

“No,” he answered curtly, pushing Cheslock’s face away with his large hand. This game no longer held any appeal. Had something happened in the portable? To Ciel? Would Irene have been stupid enough to attempt something when he’d sent Sieglinde to watch? He leapt over the table, ready to follow the small crowd, when the alpha put his paw on his chest.

“Well you better clean your ears. I’m not done with you, yet.”

The demon’s body temperature elevated in tandem with his temper. It went from warm, bypassing hot altogether and reached scalding in two breaths. Steam billowed from Sebastian’s uniform, and were it not for his diabolical nature, it would have burst into flame. This wasn’t to say it didn’t feel that way for Cheslock. A hiss of burning, like flesh on a grill, sounded between them.

Without making eye contact, Sebastian peeled the offending appendage off his person. “We’re done,” he snarled. Cheslock whined and fell back, cradling his hand.

“And guard my food,” Sebastian ordered him, giving Cheslock a look of impending violence should he step out of line.

The incubus managed half a dozen steps when Ciel came barreling into the lunch room. A line of angry omegas had formed behind him, marching band style, and it seemed he was their field commander. Some omegas looked green, others pale from the noxious scent following them, but they all were furious; except for Sieglinde, who, for some reason, wore contriteness as if it were part of her uniform. She was bringing up the rear, but her little pet was next to Ciel, his expression fiercely identical to his friend’s.

It had taken the demoness nearly stunning Ciel to calm the boy down. When fight or flight had seized the omega, he’d chosen the former, crouching low, ready to pounce on Irene. Finny had first forced him back into his seat, then demanded Sieglinde to explain what exactly she had meant by ‘brother’s betrothed’.

Ciel seemed oblivious after that, either refusing the information or just not able to take it in at that moment. He kept trying to turn his head to shoot nasty looks at Irene, but Sieglinde forbade it, using whatever powers she had to do so.

“Do you place any value on your life, omega? On his?” She asked pointing to Finny. “I just told you this bitch was dangerous, and you want to attack her? If you’re going to beat someone down, let it be the Prince.”

And so here they were.

A bobby pin could have fallen from someone’s hair in the cafeteria and everyone would have heard it. Even the drip-drip of the coffee machine behind the counter seemed deafening.

Ciel looked up at the incubus, but not for long. A helpful omega had dragged a chair over to where he stood and no less than four of them helped him up so that he was face to face with his mate.

Sebastian had no idea what to make of the spectacle. It wasn’t like Ciel to cause a scene, and in the short duration he’d know him, the omega had never displayed this kind of temper.

The incubus brought up his hand to smooth the angry lines from the boy’s face, to soothe the rage that radiated off him like heat from a high-voltage light bulb. “Prec--”

“Don’t,” Ciel slapped Sebastian’s hand out of the way before it touched him. His voice was cold and flat. His fury fed his hurt, and in turn, his hurt fed his fury. “Don’t call me that.”

Immediately, Sebastian shot Sieglinde a what-the-fuck-is-going-on look. She mouthed a ‘sorry’ and it all clicked. Hades Almighty, for the first time in his life, the incubus lost his appetite.

“I… I can explain…” Sebastian stuttered, whispering so low he wasn’t sure Ciel even heard. He felt his deathhawk droop a little as his normally stellar confidence waned.

It was Finny that answered, “You had better explain!” The omegas behind him all nodded. It was funny how up until this morning, none of them would have cared less about Ciel Phantomhive, but pack mentality had taken over, and he noticed they were all shooting the assembled alphas similar distrustful leers.

How much did they all know? And where had Irene gone? Sebastian was relieved she wasn’t present, but the sentiment was short lived, it’s not like Beast couldn’t possess any of the other students watching on.

He tried again to touch Ciel, on the shoulder this time. The omega could have been carved from stone for all the good it did.

“Please, let’s go from here and I’ll explain.” Sebastian was at a total loss. He’d never fucked up like this before, not in a manner that he actually cared about. Normally, he would have shrugged it off, devoured the offended party and went on his merry way to a new conquest. Not now. If Ciel would just say something. Anything. A screaming tirade... A whispered threat...

Short on ideas, Sebastian acted in accordance to what he himself would have accepted as proper atonement. He turned, picked up the laden tray of food Cheslock had been guarding and held it between he and Ciel. “Look, we can bring the food I got you, in case you get hungry.”

Imperiously, the omega looked his nose down at the offered lunch, and settled on the mac ‘n cheese. It seemed the messiest; it was definitely the smelliest. Even so, he brought it up with both hands and slammed it satisfyingly into Sebastian’s face. The paper plate which had soaked through from the liquidy cheese concoction fell back onto the tray on top of the meatloaf and lasagna. No one heard the sickening squish sound it made; they were all too busy cheering on a fight, and forming a tight circle around the couple.

Ciel’s chest heaved, his nostrils flared, and when he spoke, the hiss that emerged from his clenched teeth was venomous. “You think serving me disgusting cafeteria food will make up for the fact that you have another woman?”

“In all fairness, you’re the ‘other woman’.” The words were out of Sebastian’s mouth lightning fast. They circumvented his stupid demonic brain like a reflex on Crank. Shut up, you fucking moron, he chided himself, shut up.

The omega’s eyes widened dangerously.

“I mean… You’re not… you’re obviously not a woman. And you’re not other either… Precious, why else would I have let you…”

“Let me what?” Ciel pressed forcefully.

Sebastian’s throat went dry. He swallowed, stood a little taller, not realizing he’d somehow slouched, cowering under the punitive glare of his mate. “You know...”

Some alphas whistled. It was clear from their heightened pheromones that they were enjoying the show. Ciel’s right brow arched knowingly, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough for only him to know: everyone should know.

Sebastian could read the challenge on Ciel’s face, wiped off the remains of food off his own, dropping the tray to the side with a clatter. A savage vindictiveness flared low in the incubus’ belly, not towards his chosen mate, but to his would-be captor. Let the gossip spread through the halls like wildfire; there would be no need for gross exaggerations. He’d refused to pledge his allegiance to Hades, his own flesh and blood, why would he ever do it for the succubus?

Before hunger, there’d only been bereavement. Grief for a severed connection, sorrow for a fundamental loss. He’d assumed such was a natural disposition for an incubus, that’s why they were always starving, feeding on lover after lover. And Sebastian had known, felt it on the day Epimetheus showed up to the Royal Court with Beast, presenting her as an evil set free from Pandora’s box, that she was not The One. She could never complete him; either they were too much alike, or her mere existence was a grim reminder of everything he despised about himself.

It was Ciel who complimented him best. He was the hope to the demon’s cynicism, the virtue to his sin, the satiation to his appetite.

“Well?”

Sebastian grinned at the omega, a proud smile playing at his lips. “Shall I show them, or tell them, little master?”

“Both.”

With unseen swiftness, the incubus kicked the chair out from under Ciel, caught the boy and set him upon his feet. He took a knee before the omega, loosened his own tie and unbuttoned his shirt. His heart hammered behind his ribs, like a bird much too big for its cage. It sent his blood coursing through his veins, hot and spiked with vainglory. “I let you claim me, omega.”

Ciel pushed Sebastian’s shirt from his shoulders, where it hung limply at his elbows. “Louder.”

Pleased by the turn of events, the incubus licked his lips. Pride sharpened the resolution of the crescent scar left by Ciel. It glowed a livid silver at the base of his neck, beautifully contrasting the dozen or so bruises and deep scrapes the omega had also left behind. Sebastian showed them off as badges of honour. He glanced up at Ciel from under his lashes, and cleared his throat. “Begged for your claim inside and out, little omega.”

A loud hush fell on the student body shifting uncomfortably where they stood in the cafeteria. “In-inside?”

For their lot, the omegas seemed incredulously impressed, but a miasmic, emasculated scent newly suffusing the lunch room spoke to the alphas’ disapproval. Ever the little renegade, Ciel met each disbelieving gawk and stared them down, one after the other.

It was Ronald’s voice who broke the sea of murmurs first. “Pfft… and you call yourself an alpha... Get off your knees Knotless, you’re an embarrassment to the dynamic.”

Bright red patches appeared on Ciel’s cheeks, giving him the appearance that he’d been slapped in the face; in truth, the slight on his demon’s honour had felt that way. He growled, keeping the sound low, measured and sure. It was a warning, but the meaning had been as clear as if he had snarled outright at Ronald.

“Hey!” Ronald smirked. He puffed out his chest, and put both hands up in mock fright, “He might be slick-whipped Phantomhive, but the rest of us aren’t. Don’t forget your place, bitch.”

Nobody present could have explained how it had occurred, but before Ciel’s mouth had the chance to form a tiny ‘o’ of surprise, the offensive alpha had been lifted from the floor and was dangling by his dress shirt in plain view from the curtain rod that ran the length of the cafeteria. He looked like a deformed, spooked scarecrow, with his arms at odd angles thanks to how he hung by the collar. Sebastian stood facing him, buttoning his own shirt back up. If Ronald were not mysteriously paralyzed, his knee could have easily connected with the incubus’ face. As it was though, only the alpha’s mouth was capable of movement.

“Get me down from here!” he ordered.

Innocently, Sebastian looked around the room at the crowd; his eyes landed on Sieglinde’s smiling ones, then took a moment to wink at Ciel. When Ronald demanded his attention again, the incubus simply pointed to himself abashedly, “Who, me? You're talking to me?”

“Yes, you! You did this!”

The incubus rhetorically addressed the observers, “Did anyone see me do this?”

Everyone agreed that they indeed had not seen him do anything; Finny on the other hand, had quickly placed his fingers over Sieglinde’s mouth to prevent her from opposing the incubus.

With a subtle snap of his fingers, missed by all except for the hanging boy, the tie around Ronald’s neck tightened. The fine silk fabric squeezed against the delicate vessels carrying oxygen to his head and heart and turned him a lovely shade of cyanic green. His arms bent at the elbows in an attempt to loosen the makeshift tourniquet, but his shoulders did not rotate in such a manner to accommodate him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You’re not knotless. I take it back.”

Sebastian had half a mind to have him repeat it, since most of the students could scarcely hear the words over their jeering laughter. He was sure that had Sullivan not joined in the fun and manipulated things in his favour, their peers’ reactions would have been those of shock and dismay.

“Oh, that’s why you think you’re up there?” The incubus relieved the pressure to allow Ronald breath to speak. Lazily, he thumbed the alpha’s belt buckled, and a subtle threat forced itself into the boy’s brain as if Sebastian had spoken it out loud, but I’m not opposed to a knot-measuring-contest if that’s what you so desire…

Ronald froze of his own accord this time. “W-why then… ” He pleaded.

“You know why,” said Sebastian. “You know why, and you know what you have to do.” He waved his hand with a flourish in Ciel’s direction, smirking conspiratorily.

“Make it a good one, Ronnie!” Ciel called from the opposite side of the room, seating himself in a lord-like manner on the chair he had once stood upon. He crossed his slim legs and waited. The cafeteria could have only held three occupants for how silent it became.

“I’m sorry, omega!”

The ochre of Sebastian’s eyes disappeared skywards and he gave Ronald’s legs a light tug. He fell hard on his hands and knees and didn’t stand. “Pathetic. That’s hardly an apology,” he whispered between them, then to Ciel, “Are you satisfied, Precious?”

The omega shrugged.

“Try again. Last chance, alpha. Maybe it would work better if you crawled while you begged for forgiveness?” Sebastian gave Ronald’s rear a gentle push forward with his foot and stood back to admire the giddy atmosphere he’d concocted amidst the vulnerable omegan population of St-Augustine’s.

“P-p-please… please omega… I didn’t mean it…” Ronald stammered, inching his way closer to Ciel.

“Yes you did, Ronald. Don’t lie,” Sebastian corrected.

“I did, but I swear. I won’t… I won’t call you that no more…” Ronald’s humiliation was palpably delicious. It made the other alphas squirm, ashamed. Made them keep their eyes downcast.

“Do you believe him Ciel?”

Ciel flip-flopped his hand. So-so.

“Kiss his feet, Ronald.”

“What? I…”

“I said: Kiss his feet.” Every word was punctuated, as if Sebastian was speaking to someone whose intellect rivaled a slug’s.

“But…”

“That way, you’ll remember...” the incubus explained. “When you’re addressing my omega, you speak to him as if you’re addressing royalty, got it?”

Ronald looked up at Sebastian and nodded his head despite the fervour he exerted to not do such a thing. His lips brushed the tip of the boy’s shined loafer and he was allowed to pull back by whatever invisible force had compelled him forward.

Someone in the crowd (an omega by the sound of his mellifluous, enthusiastic tone) shouted “Long live the king!” for tumultuous effect and they all cheered.

If Ronald had a tail, it would have dragged between his legs as he walked out of the cafeteria, surrounded by his small posse. The party broke up around the incubus and the omega, with people seeking their mates, or else getting their own food, now that they had burned through a solid nine minutes of lunch time.

No one seemed to notice, except for maybe Finnian who had made to stop them but was held back by Sieglinde, that Ciel had grasped Sebastian’s tie just below the loosened knot and was leading him out of the bustling space.

“If you think I’m done with you, think again…” the omega seethed, tramping through the halls.

Sebastian had expected Ciel to want to get his belongings at his locker, to leave school so they could have an in-depth conversation about his deception. The forest would have been ideal; the boy could scream as loudly as he wanted and nobody would have been the wiser; but instead of heading to the second floor or towards the exit, Ciel dragged the incubus past the library, a handful of classes, the auditorium and halted outside Mister Pitt’s art room.

“Get inside,” he ordered.

Sebastian turned the knob only to find it jammed by the lock. He waited a moment and it complied under duress. Despite knowing he was about to get a verbal lashing, he held the door chivalrously open for his little master and followed him inside.

It was dark with the curtains drawn, but since when had obscurity ever been an issue for devil? Sebastian could make out the easels that lined the far wall, and every detail of the mediocre paintings staplegunned to the front of the room meant to inspire the artists. As far as art classes went, this one was average at best, still, a myriad of images came to the incubus’ mind, a thousand accompanying sounds, all of them lecherous, all of them so grossly missing the point as to why they were here.

He focused on other things, irrelevant, meaningless things: the strumming of a guitar filtering through the small radio atop the teacher’s desk, the rampant disorganization of paint tubes and jars, the smell of solvents and fresh acrylic still drying on the canvas paper at the back. None of it adequately distracted from the disappointing ache that tingled in the tips of the incubus’ fingers, the flesh of his mouth and the heavy heat of his loins. If he could only touch the boy, he could reassure him; but he had tried and had been publicly rebuffed for it.

“Ciel, I…”

The omega stood motionless with his back turned to his solitary audience. With horrified fascination, he examined a poor attempt at a charcoal reproduction of Fuseli’s The Nightmare laid flat upon a large table. Yes, the sketch was rudimentary, but it still evoked a certain haunting eroticism. The apelike incubus stooped upon his victim might not resemble the Prince, but Ciel felt a kinship to the woman draped over the bed, asleep. He’d been going at this all wrong, willingly closing his eyes to his mate’s true nature.

The omega rubbed his own neck self-consciously, lingering on the mark, tracing it and was hit with the sudden impulse to want to scratch it off.

Sebastian was on him no sooner than the blunt little nails dug into the skin. He had surged across the classroom in a single bound and the roughness of it sent them toppling onto the table, with Ciel's belly pressed hard against it.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian growled inhumanly low against the shell of the omega's ear. Disappointment gave way to an unforeseen flare of anger. With his full body weight on Ciel, he pinned the boy's arms over his head in an instinctive bid for dominance. How dare the omega try to undo it! Did their union not mean anything to him?

The air had been knocked out of Ciel’s lungs, and his bones felt like three day old custard. Half his face lay flat on the charcoal sketch, growing numb, along with his fingers, due to the lack of circulation. “Everything’s been a lie,” he choked out, glaring at Sebastian from his right eye.

"It hasn't." Sebastian redistributed his weight to his knees, but kept close to Ciel, his chest to the omega’s back, his hips flush with the boy’s rear.

"You belong to someone else…"

“Only in deed. Only ever in deed.” His voice was rough, aggressive but pleading. “We haven’t wedded, Precious; I refused. I told you this...”

Ciel thought back to Pholóē Oak, to sitting in the mouth of the cave and listening to mythos brought to life. He recalled Sebastian saying he was the son of Hades and the late Persephone, that he refused to take his father’s place, but there had been no mention of a betrothed. “You said you refused the throne, not a wife.”

Sebastian scoffed, “They were a package deal. As if one was not bad enough.” He sighed and plowed on, rushing through his explanation; it was too unpalatable to recount at a normal pace. “After my father abandoned his responsibilities for my mother, Poseidon and Zeus no longer trusted his judgement. As an incubus, I’m trusted even less. In selecting a partner they deemed suitable for me, they set the condition. One they knew I couldn’t… I would never… You see, she becomes their mouthpiece, their eyes and ears. The moment I take the throne, I’m bound to the Underworld. The moment I marry her, I lose all my freedom.”

The demon turned his little master onto his back, willing him to understand. Under him, the boy’s jaw was set, his eyes no longer sullen or indignant, but smoldering with the jealous possession of a mighty, unbridled wrath. Half his face was marred in charcoal, but it didn't take away from his ferocity. “Don’t go back. Stay here.”

The conviction with which Ciel spoke the words softened the demon’s tormented expression, but then his lips broke into a mocking smile. He let go of Ciel’s wrists, ran his hands gently down the boy’s arms to his chest, and sat up slightly to straddle his hips. Their faces were inches apart, their ragged breaths warming the other’s already flushed skin. Finally, Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the omega’s.

“If I don’t go back, if I don’t fulfill my responsibilities by year’s end, the Underworld is up for grabs. It becomes Ground Zero for the Titans’ newest war.”

With his hands now free, Ciel’s left one aggressively carded through Sebastian’s hair. He pulled it back forcibly, refusing the incubus’ weak resignation and stared him boldly in the eyes. “Then let Hell burn.”