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Warm milk. Every night. This had become their usual routine.
Sebastian had only been staying with the boy for a short while now, in this spacious manor, but the two had already fallen into a pattern.
Waking his master, he would slide open the curtains, beams of warm light cascading onto his little master’s weary face.
Hot tea, a different flavour every day, he’d watch the boy take tentative sips, careful not to burn his pillow soft lips.
Freshly prepared breakfast, he was spoiled , really. Licking streaks of cream from his fingers after he’d finished his scones. He reminded Sebastian of a hungry kitten lapping the milk from its whiskers. He half expected the boy to rub a licked hand behind his ear.
Dressing. he’d slip silky socks up his master’s smooth calves, soft glove tips tickling his skin. Button his shirts, tie his ribbons, only to undo it all before bedtime.
Bedtime, only after bath time. Scrubbing his master gently and rinsing his hair, lifting his arms to wash underneath, the young boy squirming and humming tiny protests. To be dried and ruffled with a fluffy towel, wrapped up like a caterpillar, only to emerge, not as a butterfly, but a yawning, very sleepy little boy, ready for the warm embrace of his king sized bed.
Bedtime. Warm milk. That’s what Ciel always wanted.
He’d look up intently at the sound of Sebastian strolling in with his favourite comforting drink.
Just a drop of honey, only sometimes. Ciel wanted it always, but Sebastian reminded him of his own words,
it would be bad for his teeth!
So the young master would accept his unsweetened milk begrudgingly, it was still warming and soothing at least. And it only made those days when he did add thick, sweet honey even more satisfying.
Today was one of those days.
The little Lord had a particularly stressful day. Remembering his traumatic experiences, he had needed Sebastian to comfort him several times. To tell him that he was safe, it was only the two of them together, that he was protected. When his master’s eyes were filled with crystal tears, his sniffling nose running, he looked like a mess.
A pitiful, adorable mess.
Sebastian would remove a glove and wipe those eyes with a warm thumb, contract mark on show, a reminder of the bond they had made.
He would comfort the boy with a hug if he could, but Ciel wouldn’t let him get that close, so instead he would stand nearby. His presence alone provided the child with some sense of soothing.
This night, when Sebastian walked in, with warm milk and honey on his trolley, his young master was nothing but a lump under the covers. Upset again?
Sebastian sighed.
The wheels of the trolley rolled smoothly over the carpet before he came to a stop. Sebastian thought about how his young master’s toes would curl into that deep carpet when he stood in the morning, stretching. But now those little paws were curled against the boy’s body, a huddled ball, sweet and scared.
He wasn’t screaming or crying, but when Sebastian peered beneath the covers, the boy had a look of distress on his face. Pink lips pouted, and eyelashes pointed downwards, the beginnings of tears welling beneath them.
But he seemed to perk up at the familiar smell of the honey. At the somewhat familiar smell of Sebastian.
“I have brought you your warm milk, as per usual, my Lord,” the butler spoke, his deep, warming voice breaking the silence “with honey this time,” he smiled.
The boy crawled to the edge of the bed, and sat propped on his heels. His hair was a mess already, so soon after washing too, tut tut. Blueish-grey strands sticking out here and there.
He didn’t speak, but looked expectantly at his demon. His eyes were wide, sapphire and amethyst, and he held his tiny fingers out impatiently.
“Just one moment,” Sebastian spoke. He added just a small drop of honey, before handing the warm drink to the boy who grasped it eagerly.
His young master lifted the glass to his lips, tipping it and drinking down that first gulp that usually relaxed him quite quickly. But he seemed dissatisfied.
“What is the matter?” Sebastian asked, leaning down and placing his hands on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ciel with a concerned expression.
Small fingers reached forward, grasping into the pristine fabric of Sebastian’s tailcoat, wrinkling it, but Sebastian didn’t mind.
“Not sweet enough,” the boy whispered, looking downwards. “More honey…” He seemed hesitant to speak through his saddened voice.
Sebastian placed a gloved hand on the boy’s shoulder, who tensed at the touch, but didn’t pull away. His head lifted and his eyes made contact with the demon. A wide smile spread across Sebastian’s face.
“Of course.” Said the butler, rising from his position. He clenched the tip of one of his glove fingers between his teeth, and pulled. The glove slipped away, revealing contract marked-skin and black painted nails.
Sebastian lifted the wooden honey dipper, but not above the milk. He held it over his fingers, the amber liquid gathering in thick strings across his fingertips.
The butler lifted his honey coated fingers to his smirking lips, and rubbed slowly, applying the sugary substance as if it were lipstick. He resisted the temptation to lick his own lips, keeping the thin layer of glossy honey intact.
He leant down once more, and brought his finger and thumb now to the boy’s lips, slowly swiping the remnants of the sweet goo across his master’s mouth. Bubblegum pink turned to glistening apricot.
He pushed a single finger against those plush lips, as if to shhh the boy, before moving his hands away.
Before Ciel had time to question him, Sebastian was leaning forward, lips less than an inch away from Ciel’s. His head tilted to the side, soft jet hair barely brushing the boy’s flushed cheeks. And in less than a second more, their lips were closed together.
Sebastian closed his eyes. Ciel did too.
The boy could taste the sweetness of the honey, so he licked across Sebastian’s lips, and past them too, invited by the breathy warmth and sickeningly sugary flavour that overwhelmed him. Sebastian pushed forward, humming into the boy’s mouth, huffing. He caressed a hand around his master’s face, pulling them closer, exploring further with his tongue, across those tiny teeth, the shared sweetness of honey on their tongues and lips.
It was messy, yet soft.
Beckoning the boy to taste further, to push back into it. To lap the honey from around his sharp fangs, to suckle and be fed by it.
A kiss, so reckless. Sebastian was yet to have the boy hug him. But he could not resist. And Ciel seemed to be enjoying it, lost in the bliss of it. He looked like there was not a single thought in his head other than this kiss. This moment. whether it was the desperation for comfort, the need for distraction, or the pure will of his sweet tooth, he did not pull away.
When they finally parted, the look of emptiness in the boy’s eyes faded as he took in what was happening.
Sebastian smiled.
“Is that sweet enough?” he asked.
The boy tssked
“I suppose.” He looked away.
There was a moment of silence.
Sebastian stood, but before he could turn, fragile fingertips were grabbing at his clothes again, shakily.
“Stay,” the boy whispered.
“Stay with me, until I fall asleep.”
This was by no means an unusual request, Ciel had asked it many times before, but something in his voice was different this time. He sounded as though he could burst into tears, but his words were laced with a new emotion, one that was genuine, curious, and longing.
Sebastian smiled,
“Yes, my Lord.”