“This morning’s tea is Twining’s Earl Grey.”
Ciel accepted the proffered cup and saucer with a vague nod, his attention fixed on the newspaper spread out on the desk.
“Dinner will be quail,” Sebastian continued. “Do you have any requests for dessert?”
“Very well. Now, as for today’s schedule, you have—”
A bang echoed along the corridor, followed seconds later by shouts and thumps that grew ever louder. Sebastian stepped away from the desk, towards the double doors, but they swung open before he could reach them, and Grell Sutcliff flew into the room in a swirl of red, pursued by three panting Phantomhive servants.
“What is the meaning of this?” Sebastian glared at the group. “How dare you enter the young master’s study in such disarray.”
“Sorry, Mr Sebastian. Sorry,” Mey-Rin gasped out. “We couldn’t stop him.”
“Sebas-chan!” Grell squealed, showing every sign of imminently launching herself towards the object of her affections.
“Grell Sutcliff!” Ciel’s sharp tone drew her to a halt, and once he had her attention, he rose from his seat and eyed her with distaste. “What are you doing here?”
“Really, Earl, is that any way to greet a guest, let alone a lady?”
Ciel ignored the comment. “Why are you here?”
“Why, to collect on our deal, of course.”
Deal? Sebastian flinched. Ciel had made no mention of a deal, and what business did he have forming a contract with a damned shinigami in the first place? Theirs was the only deal with which his young master should concern himself. There should be no other.
His anger peaked, only to mellow when he noticed Ciel’s expression. His young master looked faintly worried. Whatever he’d gotten himself into with Grell, Sebastian determined to tackle that first. Reprimanding Ciel could wait. He would find a suitable way to teach him a lesson later.
"About your work, all of you," he said, sending the three servants on their way. Then he turned to Ciel. “Botchan,” he said, keeping his tone mild and his expression neutral, “did you make a deal with this... person?”
At least Ciel had the decency to look abashed. “I needed his help.”
“That he did,” Grell cut in, “and I said—”
“Silence! Allow me to speak with my master, if you please.”
Grell gave a full-body shudder, fixing upon Sebastian a lustful gaze. “Oh, Sebas-chan, you’re so forceful. It gets me so excited!”
Grell lunged, but Sebastian evaded the attack with a well-timed sidestep, turning back to Ciel as Grell tumbled to the floor at his feet.
“I didn’t think I’d have to go through with it,” Ciel stated in response to the questioning tilt of Sebastian’s eyebrow.
Sebastian sighed. “As an earl, you must lead by example. Whatever deal you made, you must fulfil it.”
“There’s no other way?”
“None. For honour’s sake, you must make good on your promise.”
“Oh, Sebas-chan!” Grell, upright once more, latched onto Sebastian’s arm, hanging off it so heavily that, had he been human, Sebastian would have been thrown off balance.
“Now, what exactly did this deal entail?” Sebastian addressed his question to Ciel, doing his best to ignore the way Grell pawed at his sleeve. The quicker they concluded this matter and got rid of the shinigami, the better.
Ciel looked up and met his gaze, and Sebastian experienced a rare sense of disquiet. The worried expression from earlier was gone, replaced by something more akin to mirth.
“I promised him a day with you.”
Brat! How could Ciel do this to him? Still, he was a Phantomhive butler. If he couldn’t deal with an annoying presence for a single day, what use was he?
“Very well. He may accompany me on my chores.”
“No!” Grell released her hold on Sebastian and stormed towards Ciel’s desk. “You promised me a full day doing whatever I wanted, and I want kissing. With tongues.”
Ciel gave a long-suffering sigh, but it was only a façade. Sebastian could see the amused glint in Ciel’s eyes, and he curled his hand into a fist, squeezing tight to hold himself in check.
“Very well,” Ciel said. “I suppose a promise is a promise.” He raised his eye patch and turned to Sebastian. “This is an order, Sebastian. Spend the day with Grell and do whatever he wants.”
The contract seal in Ciel’s eye blazed, and the matching one on Sebastian’s hand burned briefly as his own gaze flared red.
Sebastian could have groaned, but he held back the show of weakness. Sealing the instructions with a direct order was a low blow from his young master. He was now contract-bound to obey. No matter what depravities Grell demanded, he would have no choice but to fulfil them.
What had he done that Ciel would punish him in this way? He was nothing but loyal. Then again, his young master was just that: young. Ciel was mostly unfamiliar with the pleasures of the flesh, and in giving the order, it might not have occurred to him that Grell would ask Sebastian for a lot more than a kiss. But whether or not it had been made with vicious intent, the order had been given, and Sebastian had to comply.
He placed his hand over his heart and bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
Grell’s shriek of delight was eardrum shattering. “Oh, Sebas-chan. Just you and me together all day. I want you to kiss me! Kiss me!”
Since he had no other choice, Sebastian bent to kiss her cheek. He couldn’t refuse, but he could bend the rules. She’d demanded a kiss. However, she had not specified where that kiss should be placed.
Unfortunately, Grell saw his intent and turned her head at the last moment. When Sebastian’s mouth met hers, she pulled him close and tried to part his lips with her tongue. He valiantly resisted. Eventually, even someone as dense as Grell would work out how to play the game, but he would maintain control for as long as he could. At present, she hadn’t instructed him to open his mouth. Nor had she specified a French kiss.
At Ciel’s startled cry, Sebastian forced Grell off him, his master’s order overriding hers. Ciel’s cheeks were flushed, but Sebastian thought he also detected a hint of worry behind Ciel’s eyes. Maybe his young master was starting to realise exactly what his order might entail. Good. Because Sebastian did not intend to let him forget it. Ciel was forcing him to spend the day as a glorified sex toy for a deranged shinigami, and Sebastian would savour his payback when the time came.
“Come, Grell,” he said. “We must go to the kitchen.”
“I don’t want—”
“It’s only a brief stop. If I am to spend the day with you, I must leave instructions for the staff. It will take but a moment and then... we’ll do whatever you wish.”
Placated, Grell trailed after him. Sebastian had hoped to drag out the task for at least fifteen minutes, maybe even twenty, but infuriatingly, the trio, abashed at their earlier failure, were all too eager to please Sebastian now, and they set about their work with more-than-usual diligence and dexterity.
Five minutes later, Sebastian had no further excuse for delay.
“Would you like to take food and drink with us?” he asked Grell. Even at such a time, he could not neglect to provide the customary Phantomhive hospitality. Besides, eating and drinking would take time away from other activities.
“Oh, Sebas-chan, you do know how to spoil a girl!”
Sebastian spun away from her idolising gaze and set about filling a picnic basket. He didn’t suppose Grell had a picnic on the lawns in mind, but it would be easier to carry everything this way. Sadly, his efficiency worked against him for once and the selection and packing took but a moment. As he closed the lid, he wondered how the magic fuelling Ciel’s order would interpret ‘the day’. Would he only have to obey Grell until sunset, or was he trapped until midnight?
“Let’s go to your room now.”
Sebastian frowned, trying to find a way around it. “My room is sparse, small. Perhaps one of the guest rooms would be more comfortable?”
“No. I want to see where my Sebas-chan sleeps.”
It seemed pointless arguing that he didn’t sleep. She’d said ‘I want’: the magic words linked to Ciel’s command. Impossible now to refuse.
Sebastian gave a terse nod, picked up the picnic basket, and set off, Grell skipping happily behind him. When they reached his quarters, he set the basket atop a chest of drawers. He heard the door click shut as Grell entered behind him, and he tensed, expecting her to pounce. When she didn’t, he turned, surprised to find her hovering near the door. For a moment, he was reminded of the persona she’d adopted when posing as Madam Red’s butler: shy, unassuming, hesitant.
Grell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as she swallowed. “I want you to take off your clothes.”
Sebastian cursed inwardly. She’d worked out the trick with the wording quicker than he’d expected. There was nothing for it but to resign himself to whatever degrading experiences awaited.
Slowly, without meeting her gaze, he unbuttoned his jacket and slipped out of it, draping it neatly over the back of a nearby chair. His gloves followed. Then his waistcoat and tie. He was moving his fingers towards his shirt buttons when Grell stepped forward.
He paused and looked up from his task.
“You’re not objecting. You’re doing whatever I say.”
She sounded surprised. Perhaps she hadn’t discovered how this worked after all. Her earlier phrasing must have been beginner’s luck. He could disrupt things by failing to enlighten her, but that would only delay the inevitable. Maybe it was better simply to get it over with.
“My master gave me an order. I am to do whatever you want for the day. If you tell me you want something, I have to obey.” He gestured to his shirt. “Shall I proceed?”
Sebastian arched an eyebrow. The negative response was unexpected, to say the least, as was her panicked expression.
“This isn’t how I imagined it.” Grell’s voice was barely a whisper. She briefly caught Sebastian’s eye, then shot her gaze to the floor.
“This is what you wanted, and I must provide it, in accordance with the terms of my contract with my young master and to uphold his honour.”
“I didn’t want to rape you!” Grell snapped. “I thought I would win you over, not force you. I realise you don’t have a high opinion of me, but I am not a monster.”
“It’s against your will, isn’t it? You don’t want to be here with me.”
Grell looked as if she was about to burst into tears, and against all reason, Sebastian felt guilty rather than annoyed. He stepped forward and gently took her arm, guiding her to the bed.
“Let’s sit for a moment.”
They settled side-by-side, a few inches apart, and an awkward silence fell. Sebastian wished for the return of the usual, forceful Grell who threw herself at him with wild abandon. He knew that Grell and had mentally prepared for that situation. But it seemed he had been wrong to assume that to be his worst possible fate. Having sex with Grell suddenly didn’t seem so bad after all. It was only sex, and he was good at it. Right now, bedding an overly amorous Grell was far more palatable than comforting a distraught Grell. Besides, he had an order to fulfil and they were getting off track. He could not face the thought of returning to Ciel at the end of the day and having to inform him the debt remained unpaid. He would not fail in his task.
He cleared his throat. “Look, I have no objections. I’ve never had sex for pleasure; it’s always been as part of a contract in one way or another. I’m a demon. You’re not going to hurt me either physically or emotional, whatever you want to do, so there’s no need for concern.”
There. That ought to do it.
Grell twisted to face him. To Sebastian’s dismay, she looked even more distressed than before. “You’ve never been with someone because you want to? But what about your own desires?”
Sebastian gave an elegant shrug. “I can feel carnal pleasure, of course, but it’s not usually in the forefront of my mind in such moments. Generally, I am concentrating on extracting information, or whatever else is required to fulfil a particular order.” Everything still felt strange and awkward. He tried to move the conversation along. “So, tell me what you want from me and I will do it.”
Here it was at last: a return to the status quo. He wondered what she would demand first. More kissing? Or did she intend to get straight down to it now he’d made his position clear?
“I want... to please you.”
Sebastian frowned. He’d expected something more along the lines of ‘undress me’, ‘stick your tongue down my throat’ or ‘make me come’. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Let me give you pleasure.”
Sebastian blinked. Unexpected. Unprecedented. But then this entire day was turning out to be very different from what he’d planned. “I see.” He didn’t, but he assumed he’d catch up soon enough when whatever was going to happen got started. He was nothing if not adaptable.
“Will you let me?” Grell looked hopeful. That was a vast improvement on teary, so Sebastian nodded his consent.
Grell reached towards him, only to pause. “May I remove your shirt?”
“You can do whatever you want with me,” Sebastian patiently explained for the second time. “As I told you, I am under orders.”
Apparently that wasn’t the response Grell wanted, because she didn’t move.
Sebastian tried again. “You may remove my shirt and any other garments you wish.”
With a shy-yet-eager smile that Sebastian tried not to find endearing, Grell shuffled closer and set to work undoing his buttons. Her fingertips brushed his skin as she eased the fabric over his shoulders and down his arms, leaving him bare-chested.
He’d expected her to head straight for his trousers next, but instead she lingered, trailing her fingers lightly over his torso, cataloguing each muscle, each dip and grove. Then she gave a little push against his shoulders, encouraging him back. Once he’d lain down, she straddled his legs, and he looked up to watch her watching him. An hour ago, he would have scoffed had anyone suggested he might consider Grell attractive. Yet, like this—crimson hair cascading, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and being blissfully quiet—he couldn’t deny there was something about her. To his shock, the thought prompted a stirring in his groin.
Grell leaned down and started to kiss him. She avoided his lips this time, instead peppering a trail of soft caresses along his jaw, then across his chest. The darting motion of her tongue against his nipple made him gasp.
Usually his sexual partners barely touched him. He was the one administering pleasure, the one in control. But there was something captivating in accepting the kinds of attentions he usually doled out. And Grell was covering his chest with kisses and touches as if he were something precious, something to worship.
It was only when she shuffled back and brushed against the front of his trousers that he realised he was achingly hard. Hesitantly at first, as if expecting a rebuke, she rubbed her palm over the tented fabric. When he made no objection, she pressed harder, and though a part of him howled that he should not reveal the extent of his need, physical impulse won out and he bucked into her touch.
When she freed him from the confines of his lower garments, he assumed their roles would now reverse, and he tried to sit up. Grell pushed him back down, though, and Sebastian gaped in disbelief as she lowered her head and licked a slow path along the underside of his cock before taking him fully into her mouth.
A lewd exclamation echoed around the chamber. Had it come from him? It must have. Grell was in no position to vocalise at present; although, she did hum contentedly, and the vibration against his cock drew another groan of pleasure from him.
He’d done this for others in the past, naturally, but he’d never been on the receiving end and hadn’t appreciated how wonderful it would feel. He was embarrassingly close to coming, and he attempted to warn her by tapping her hand, but rather than withdraw, she swallowed him deeper. Her throat tightened around him and he came with a strangled cry.
Grell consumed every last drop, then licked the excess from his tip with a playful flick of her tongue as she released him. She regarded him with a Cheshire Cat grin, apparently well pleased with her efforts. All Sebastian could do was stare.
“I must say,” she said, finally breaking the silence, “I thought you’d have more stamina, Sebas-chan.”
It wasn’t said in a snide way; she was flirting. And to his infinite surprise, Sebastian responded in kind.
“As it happens, I’m already ready for round two.” He wasn’t quite, but it would only take him a few moments to recover.
Her grin faltered. “You don’t have to. Not if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to.”
He did. He’d never have thought it possible, but he wanted this. He wanted her.
A gentle shove toppled her off him, and he made quick work of shedding his remaining garments before returning to the bed. Their roles reversed, he knelt over her now, looking down at her as she stared, wide-eyed, up at him, expectant, eager, brimming over with longing. This felt more natural to him, more familiar: the position of control. Still, she had expressed a desire to please him, and please him she had, as astounding as it seemed. He didn’t like to be indebted to anyone. Therefore, he intended to repay the favour. More than repay it, he would outdo it. It was a matter of personal pride. She had made him moan. He would make her beg, groan, and sigh.
He ghosted his hands over her body, bringing black-nailed fingers to rest at her waistcoat buttons. “May I?”
She gulped, then nodded. He rather liked her silent. Her usual chatter was distracting. Like this, he could better appreciate the way her green eyes contrasted with the vibrant red of her hair.
He undressed her languidly, and by the time he was done, she trembled with expectation. She didn’t like her body; he understood that much. However, to his eyes she was perfect—all pale skin and lean, toned muscles—and she was currently coiled as tight as a spring, waiting for him to release the pressure.
A few kisses, moving steadily down her body were enough to make her moan, and when he took her firmly in hand, stroking her length, she keened and raised her hips, pumping into his fist.
He leaned over her to whisper in her ear. “Tell me what you want, Grell.”
“I want you.” She squeezed her eyes shut as he ran his thumb through her precome, smearing it down her shaft to ease his strokes.
“How do you want me?”
“In any way. In every way. In... inside me.”
Sebastian had become aroused again as soon as he’d started undressing her, and now his cock throbbed in anticipation.
He raised his free hand to Grell’s mouth and pressed three fingers against her lips. “Suck.”
She accepted the digits, running her tongue over and between them, coating them with saliva. The sensation made him recall how it had felt to have her mouth around his cock: the suction of her lips, the movement of her tongue against his shift. It took everything he had in him not to moan.
When he moved his slicked fingers to her entrance, she met his gaze with an expression of such trust that the part of him that leaned towards cruelty wanted to thrust into her dry and hear her screams. He fought the thought away, though, instead preparing her carefully. Only when she began pushing down onto his fingers, frantically begging him to take her, did he move into position and press slowly into her.
Despite all the preparation, she was still tight, and this time he couldn’t suppress a groan as he sheathed himself fully inside her. He moved slowly at first: gentle, shallow strokes. But once she shifted her hips to meet him, his thrusts strengthened and lengthened.
It felt sublime—better than any other time he could remember. Maybe because on this occasion there were no distractions, no ulterior motives. It was just the two of them and their shared pleasure. He felt an urgent desire—a need, even—to claim the body beneath him, to mark it as his.
“Sebastian! Your eyes!”
Her words brought him back to himself and he realised his disguise had slipped, his true form showing through in his gaze. He glanced away, his rhythm temporarily faltering. “Apologies.”
“No. Don’t apologise.” She gripped his chin and turned his head back, her lips curving into a maniacal grin, a hint of her usual persona showing once more. “I like it. You know red is my favourite colour. Now, fuck me like you mean it... demon.” Then, demand made, she sat up and sank her sharp, pointed teeth into his neck, drawing blood.
The mood changed drastically as their urgency increased, pounding thrusts punctuated by the sting of teeth and nails, interspersed with passionate, desperate, devouring kisses.
Grell came first, calling Sebastian’s name. Sebastian followed quickly after, releasing deep inside her.
They collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap and it was several minutes before either could rouse themselves for round three.
The next morning, Ciel eyed Sebastian cautiously. Sebastian sensed the scrutiny but ignored it. Let his young master stew a little longer yet.
“Yesterday,” Ciel said at last, “did everything go... well?”
Had Ciel been older, Sebastian might have embarrassed him by commencing a blow-by-blow account. As it was, he settled for “Quite well, botchan. Your debt is repaid, the slate wiped clean.”
Sebastian hid his smile.
“And Grell was... satisfied?”
“Very much so.” He took a moment to enjoy the sight of Ciel’s reddening cheeks.
“And you? It wasn’t too... unpleasant?”
“It was an order and I fulfilled it. Nothing more need be said on the matter.”
There was certainly nothing more he was prepared to divulge about the day’s events. He would not be admitting to anyone, let alone Ciel, that he’d taken pleasure in Grell’s company, that rather than a degrading, tiresome chore it had ended up being a task he’d relished. And one he’d been able to perform again and again over the course of the allotted hours, thanks to their mutual supernatural strength and stamina.
Ciel looked relieved. “Very well. Let us prepare for the day ahead, then.”
Sebastian bowed. “Yes, my lord.”