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Ciel calls Albert darling and amour and chéri on the regular - sarcastic and scathing, but the rest of the school hears only the words and not the taunts behind them.
As a result half the school think they’re dating and the other half are either homophobic, think they’re still stuck in the “talking” stage, or one of the rare few that genuinely believe they’re just Bros™.
They are not dating each other. Or trying to date each other. Last he checked, Ciel was spending his breaks rizzing up the new Italian transfers, and Albert himself is very actively trying to date other people.
In particular, that pretty cashier in the convenience shop two crossroads from school, who thought Albert was cheating on Ciel (cheating! On that frog-face?) when he tried to ask her out, and slapped him so hard he carried her handprint on his face for days. Explaining himself had been difficult with a swollen cheek and a disbelieving Lilian, and Ciel just about died laughing after Albert finally gave up and called him to prove to her that they really weren’t dating, please believe him.
Albert is really, really tired and just wants a date. Hell, he almost wishes he and Ciel were an item, because then at least he wouldn’t be as single as a Pringle.
Scratch that, Pringles came in tubes full - they have company, and lines of humans wanting them (to eat, but still) - Albert has Alexis and a few other idiots he refused to call friends.
Literal potato crisps have it better than him. Isn’t that a desolate thought?
===
Albert realises he should have checked that the juniors had remembered to lock the door when he spies the handle turn, and-
“ Mon cœur !” Ciel calls, sticking his head into the practice room.
Oh, lord, give him strength.
Albert plasters on a pleasant smile even as he shoots daggers at the door, and the blond dumbass standing there.
“Who forgot to lock the door?” Albert asks, and most of the other students shrug, but some of them exchange knowing grins, and he sighs. “ Again ,” he says, “I am not dating Ciel, if you’ve heard otherwise from anyone, especially the wanker himself, they are telling you stupid, stupid lies.” He glares at Ciel again, to punctuate his point.
The aforementioned wanker grins. “I ‘ave never said anythin’,” he drawls, purposely playing up his accent just to fuck with Albert. “If zey are tellin’ you I ‘ave been sayin’ zat to zem, zey are tellin’ you stupid, stupid lies, mon chéri .” He smiles at some of the juniors, the thousand-watt smile Albert has seen him practise in the mirror when they were younger, charming and innocent and sugar sweet.
Albert hears a few students giggle, and there’s a challenging glint in Ciel’s eyes as he leans back against the doorframe, and one of the first things he’d ever learnt about Ciel crashing his orchestra sessions was that trying to ignore him or wait him out was a terrible, terrible idea, successful in theory but impossible to carry out in reality.
He sets down his score, and taps his palms together, sharp and clear, and is gratified to see everyone shut up and look at him.
“We’ll take a five minute break now,” he says. “And then we’ll try the full song again.”
Ciel has to fight through the throngs of students filing out of the room and setting their instruments away to get to him, and it’s a little mean but it’s funny, and Albert smirks at the sight of Ciel’s off-centre tie.
Ciel notices his gaze, and tugs his tie back haphazardly. “So very mature,” he huffs.
Albert rolls his eyes as he carefully covers up his piano. “What do you want?”
Ciel blinks. “Nothing,” he says. “I’m just delivering a student here. You know, the Italian guy, he says he plays piano too. And probably some other instruments, you’ll have to ask him - but y’know, a potential orchestra member.”
“Okay,” Albert says, a little thrown. He had been complaining about the declining membership recently - mostly to Alex, he hadn't expected Ciel to listen. “Where is he, then?”
“Oh, I asked him to wait outside,” Ciel replies, dismissive, and Albert spares a second to feel sorry for the transfer student - to land Ciel as their guide on their first day, surely they must have done something truly terrible in their past lives - “but anyway, Bertie dear -” (“Fuck off, don’t call me that,” Albert snaps) “- you haven’t played your new pieces for me yet.” Ciel seats himself on the conductor’s table - Albert’s table - and smiles, expectant.
“Fuck off,” Albert says.
“Ohhhh,” Ciel says, leaning back. “Don’t be scared, darling, I won’t laugh at you even if you fuck up the entire song.”
Albert sees Ciel’s smirk, and he knows he’s walking right into Ciel’s easily-laid trap, but he genuinely can’t help it, Ciel is so annoying , and even more so when he’s being condescending. “Bet,” he says.
Ciel’s eyes glitter, sapphire blue, and he props his chin on one palm, long hair spilling over his shoulders, and even under the terrible LED lighting of the orchestra room it is gorgeous, soft and shiny and golden. “Bet,” he agrees.
“Fine,” Albert mutters, and flicks at his score sheets till he finds his sheets for his new song. “Watch me, you pretentious prick.”
Ciel smirks in reply. “All eyes on you,” he says.
===
The upperclassman the school had assigned to be their guide proceeded to flirt with Gina in the first five minutes of meeting them, so Ciel had made a decidedly bad first impression on Gion.
Which is fine - Gion just doesn’t like certain people, and “certain people” just happen to include Ciel.
But Ciel suggested joining their established orchestra as an extracurricular, which, well.
Gion hasn't touched his piano in ages, and he does rather miss it.
So he didn't argue when Ciel told him to wait outside and ditched him to go shouting French endearments into the room of practising students.
But now he's surrounded by clusters of orchestra members talking, and it's been nearly ten minutes of waiting, bored and annoyed, irritation growing with each minute passing. Gina isn’t with him - she’d been whisked off by his friend, the current student council president, who’d paid him no attention whatsoever and instead cooed over his sister, and told her, “You have to look at our Dance Club,” and disappeared before he could warn her that Gina could not - and he means this with love and utmost affection, but for the life of her Gina cannot dance .
Gion spares a moment to pity the toes of his sister’s dance partner(s), and he’s so lost in his thought that he almost doesn’t notice the bicolour cat lunging at him.
He notices it - early enough to catch it before it tumbles down the front of his charcoal blazer, not early enough to avoid the claws digging into his arm.
It stings like a bitch.
It hurts more, though, when the cat yanks its paw backwards, towards itself, ripping through his jacket sleeve and consequently his arm. Fun.
The cat hisses and struggles in his grasp, twisting its stubby limbs in a desperate attempt to get free, all the while tearing up his jacket even more.
The cat seems to have managed to wrench its claws from his arm, though. Small mercies.
“Um,” Gion says, staring blankly at the cat flailing wildly - even if it seems to be calming down slightly - in his hands. He hears someone stifle a giggle. “Does anyone…”
“Someone tell Jones we found his damn cat,” he hears someone shout, followed by more laughter.
“I’ll call him,” someone else volunteers. Gion would look around to see if anyone could take the cat off of his hands, but he’s worried that if he takes his gaze off the animal for even a second it would proceed to go back to trying to unravel his blazer. He settles for the next best thing.
“Do I just hold it, then?” he asks, and from the corner of his eye he sees someone nod.
“’Lil White’s skittish,” they explain. “Best not to let her run off again.”
Gion takes the time to stare at the cat. She’s cute, he decides, in the way a cat who’d just sunk her claws into you could be cute. Though - and he would have to talk to Jones about it - she’s clearly more black fur than white patches, and perhaps she should get a name change.
===
“Satisfied?” Albert scoffs, when he’s played all his songs perfectly - well, fine, he’d made one or two mistakes, but he didn’t expect Ciel to have caught it out.
Ciel claps twice. “Bravo, bravo,” he says, sing-song, and oh no , Albert knows that tone. “And that was one clap for each mistake I heard, love.”
Albert feels his ears burn. “You heard wrong,” he says, aiming for snide and landing somewhere on sulky instead.
“Really?” Ciel asks, insincerely. “I could have sworn-”
“Fine, fine, fuck you,” Albert grumbles. “I messed up, like, twice, you win, awesome, wow, so slay. What do you want?”
Ciel smirks. “You can just owe me first,” he says. “I haven’t thought of anything yet.”
“I could buy you lunch,” Albert suggests, because hell no , the last time he’d let Ciel “hold on” to a favour he’d ended up writing two weeks worth of English essays for him. In French cursive. He knows - from first hand experience, dammit - the longer he lets Ciel think, the worse his favour.
“A kind offer,” Ciel says, “but non , chéri . I’ll let you know.”
“Two months expiry date,” Albert says quickly.
Ciel raises an eyebrow. “Sure.”
“Right,” Albert sighs. He pushes a hand through his hair, smoothing his bangs over his head before letting his hair fall back down. Two months of suffering and waiting for Ciel’s demands, and he would be free. “Now, didn’t you have a new member for me?”
Ciel snaps his fingers. “Right,” he drawls. “I forgot about him, he’s probably still waiting outside.” He shrugs. “Oops.”
“You,” Albert sighs, “are such a bloody arsehole. Let’s go.”
===
The first thing Jones does upon seeing him is apologise, so despite his cat he garners a fair amount of goodwill from Gion.
Especially since the only other point of comparison he’s had in this school is Ciel.
So yes, he likes Jones a good deal more than Ciel.
He gets the feeling that Jones - “Call me Livio,” he’d told him - is easy to like.
Livio apologises, takes the cat from him, and insists on walking him to the school nurse, because his cat is vaccinated but still , that looked like it hurt, thank goodness there isn’t any blood, and he’s so very sorry about it, he’ll buy Gion a new uniform, of course, is there any other way he could make it up to him?
The cat - with a name ill-suited to its coat colour - is cute, but Livio, Gion decides, is cuter.
Gion walks away from the nurse’s office with a bandage on his arm and a new-found crush.
And, he muses, to think he’d been worried about this school being boring.
===
Extras
===
Extra 1:
“Sooo,” Albert raises an eyebrow. “Did your Italian guy melt, perhaps? It’s been quite hot lately, I wouldn’t blame him.”
Ciel has the good grace to look embarrassed. “He must have left,” he says. “I did spend a while inside, listening to you make mistakes with your rusty piano playing.”
“I made two mistakes,” Albert grinds out, taking offence immediately. “ You try.”
“Oh, I definitely would have fucked up more,” Ciel admits easily. “But, see, I wouldn’t have been quite so stupid as to bet on it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Bet.”
“What?”
“Joking, joking - fuck you more, Bertie.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“ Chéri , then.”
“Prick.”
“Darling~”
“... fuck off, Ciel.”
===
Extra 2:
[Orchestra Student A, sitting comfortably on a green sofa, talking to a students’ newsletter interviewer offscreen.]
[Excerpt from interview]
“Oh, yeah, we definitely like it when Ciel comes visit, I know Albert hates his boyfriend coming over, but, like, we get way longer breaks, like, Albert will tell us to take a five minutes break or something and we’ll know we have at least twenty, like-”
“What? Oh, please, Albert’s probably shy or something, how could they not be dating, they literally go everywhere together, like, think of the poor single students you people are flexing on with your relationship, ugh.”
“No, they’re cute, I didn’t mean the ugh . But still, I’m single as fuck, and every time I go for orchestra practise Ciel pops in to flex on us, and like…”
“Hey, um, you’re single, right?”
[Laughter, from close to camera]
“Fuck off, I wasn’t asking you, camera people are supposed to be invisible.”
[Tittering from slightly further away]
“I wasn't asking you either, I know you’ve got a girlfriend, I was asking this lovely girl here who was asking me all sorts of questions about someone else's love life.”
[Interviewer: “I’m taken, sorry.”]
“Aw, fuck.”
“Wait, no, don’t cancel me, I meant good for you! Like, slay queen! But I’m still single, ugh .”
[Editors’ note: The rest of the interview keeps circling back to his lack of a love life. Please interview someone else next time. Maybe someone already in a relationship.]
===
Extra 3:
[Editors’ note: Nevermind, people who are dating will go on and on about their partner(s). Interviewers, please exercise your best judgement and choose the lesser of the two evils when interviewing.]
===
Extra 4:
[Editors’ note: Interviewers, the previous note was not an invitation for you to interview your own girlfriends or boyfriends. Please refrain.]
===
Extra 5:
“I am so sorry,” Gina says, mortified, as she steps - again - on her dance partner’s feet.
She’s dancing with a boy roughly her age, maybe a little older, with a head of fiery red hair and a cheerful sort of exuberance to his movements - which manage to be graceful and fluid, unlike her own clumsy and clunky movement as she tries and fails to count the beats with her steps.
“It’s fine,” Felix replies, reassuring, and then he smiles, playful and teasing. “You know what this reminds me of?”
“What?” Gina asks, as she steps forward - wait, no, she was supposed to step back - right back onto Felix’s foot, and he doesn’t quite manage to hide a wince.
He waves her off before she can apologise again. “This is like that movie,” he says, and pitches his voice higher. “‘You stepped on eight of my toes! I only have four left!’”
Gina laughs before she can stop herself. “Princess Charm School?” she asks.
Felix nods. “You know that movie?” he asks, then pauses. “Wait, no, you’re a girl with a childhood, of course you know that movie.”
“Yeah,” Gina says, and promptly steps on him again - (“sorry, Felix, oh my god”) - “why do you know that movie, though?”
Felix does a half-shrug as he hops out of the way of Gina’s next wrong step. “I grew up with four sisters, I’ve watched all the Barbie movies.”
A knock at the door cuts off their music, and they both look towards the door to see one of the older dancers smiling at them, a covered tray in her hands.
“Neelam~” Felix sings, letting go of Gina’s hands and skipping towards the door, “did you bring us food~”
“I made some cake yesterday,” she says, glancing at Gina. “Would you like some? Think of it as a bribe for you to join our club,” she adds, smiling.
“I think I might break Felix’s foot for real, if I join,” Gina replies, self-deprecatingly. “Can I still have a bit of cake, please?”
Neelam laughs. “Felix heals quickly,” she says, ignoring an affronted “Hey!” from the boy. “Here-” she uncovers her tray, “help yourselves, I need to get rid of these anyway.”
Several things happen in quick succession.
Felix whoops.
Neelam steps into their practice room and, distracted by Felix, trips over their music player, which had been set on the floor instead of on the table.
Gina hurries forward to steady her, but doesn’t expect Neelam’s sudden grab on the crook of her elbow, and only manages to serve as a cushion as they both go down in a mass of limbs and cake.
Felix neatly side-steps their ungraceful tangle, and plucks a fallen piece of cake from the floor. He catches Gina’s gaze, and says, dead serious, “ Floor cake ,” and pops it right into his mouth.
Gina bursts into laughter.
===
Extra 6:
(after a timeskip. Gina and ciel become friends, they’re really really close.)
This is stupid, Albert thinks.
It’s goddamn stupid, is what it is, that he wants to be nothing but perfect in front of Ciel, that he wants Ciel to mean it when he calls him darling and chéri and whatever other stupid nickname he calls him (except Bertie, thank you very much), that he wants the most popular rumour in school to be true , he wants Ciel to want him, and it is oh-so very irritating when Ciel mocks him with the motions without any sincerity behind it.
Worse yet, Gina is pretty and effortlessly charming, a sweet sort of sincerity that draws people to her, and he can’t even hate her because she seems so genuine and clueless.
He can’t win, even at his best, next to someone who isn’t even trying , goddammit.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He’s stupid, for falling.
Fucking hell.
===
Extra 7:
[audio recording, extracted from school security network]
“CIEL! MY SHIRTS ARE ALL PINK!”
“Hey, I’ve got damaged clothes too! It wasn’t just you affected!”
“[disbelieving] Really?” [pause] “[sarcastic] REALLY? ”
“Of course! It was one of my favourites too!”
“YOU MEAN THIS PAIR OF LEOPARD PRINT BOXERS?”
“...”
“WHO EVEN WEARS THESE? No, Alex, relax, I’m not going to beat him up, I promise-”
[sounds of scuffling]
[door being wrenched open]
“I’M GOING TO MURDER HIM!”
[Alexis’ voice, faintly apologetic: “I couldn’t stop him, Ciel, I’m sorry!”]
[Charles’ voice, amused: “Should I contact a funeral service?”]
[Leon’s voice, distracted: “You think Albert’s going to leave enough pieces of him to bury?”]
===
Extra 8:
“Why do you call her ‘Lil White?” Gion asks, once, as they watch her nibble at Livio’s homework.
Livio blinks. He’d thought the reason was obvious.
“Because… well, she’s mostly white?” the “ duh ” goes implied.
Gion pauses, and looks at him. “She’s mostly black,” he says. “If you’re going by her fur colour, you should be calling her ‘Lil Black instead.”
“She’s not, though?” Livio counters. “Look at her - mostly white.”
Gion shakes his head. “Mostly black,” he insists.
It’s their first real fight, and it lasts weeks .
===
Extra 9:
Gion adopts a grey cat, after they make up, and ’Lil White/Black’s name is indefinitely put on hold.
“We are not calling him Grey or whatever,” Gion says firmly, before Livio even opens his mouth. “No more colours.”
They name him Augustine.
===
Extra 10:
Ciel is drunk.
Like, drunk drunk, plastered, hammered, shit-faced, et cetera, and watching him wail into Alex’s terrified, newly-turned-eighteen arms had been entertaining at first, because who would’ve thought that Ciel was a sad drunk, but now it’s just starting to get old.
Albert sighs, and nudges Alex, signalling him to pass Ciel over. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take care of this.” He gestures vaguely at the boneless heap Ciel had become, and adds, “You go on home and pray for no hangovers tomorrow.”
Alex laughs nervously and mutters his thanks, and as he rises Charles gets up to follow.
“Not going to help me with tall, blond, and drunk-crying over here?” Albert asks, poking at Ciel. Ciel sobs harder.
Charles casts a half-glance back. “Don’t wanna deal with that,” he replies smoothly. “Sort your shit out before you ask me to get between you two dumbasses, Al.”
“Rude,” Albert calls, to Charles’ retreating back. “I’m putting all my drinks on your tab!”
Charles only laughs as he speed-walks after Alex, away from the Ciel mess.
“Well then,” Albert mutters. “Guess it’s just you and me, dipshit.”
Ciel cracks one teary eye open, blue and watery, and closes it again.
Albert sighs.
(time skip to when they get back to their room bc I’m too lazy to write a transition)
“C’mere, baby,” Ciel slurs, his tears long dried up. “I wanna, mm…”
“You’re drunk as fuck,” Albert says, not really listening. He flicks on the tap and half fills a cup of water - plastic, he doesn’t trust Ciel’s shaky fingers with glass right now - and presses it into his hands. “Now drink.”
Ciel pouts. “Come here,” he repeats, and pats the spot on his bed next to him.
“I should just dump the water on your head,” Albert mutters, but he walks over anyway. “Or just ditched you at the bar, I’m here, what do you want-”
There are fingers on his cheek, guiding him to look at Ciel, whose face is much, much closer than he’d expected it to be.
His heart, traitorous and fluttery, skips a beat, and then speeds up.
He’s practically breathing in Ciel’s breaths, the air mingling in the almost negligible space between them, and he can hear his heartbeat hammering away in his ears. He almost drops his gaze to Ciel’s lips, but catches himself in time, because that would be giving too much, when Ciel doesn’t think of him that way, doesn’t want him that way, and Ciel-
Ciel’s hands are still on his jaw. And his brilliant blue eyes are fixed firmly on his mouth.
“Ciel,” Albert says, or at least he tries to, because as soon as he opens his mouth Ciel makes a face, like he’d just made a big decision, and the next thing he knows Ciel is kissing him.
Ciel.
Albert means to push him away, he really does.
He doesn’t mean to kiss him back.
Ciel tastes salty and bitter, and Albert presses himself closer and brushes the back of his hand across Ciel’s face, across the half-dried tear tracks from the bar, and he thinks, yeah, that makes sense.
Albert imagines Ciel’s kisses, if he hadn’t been crying earlier, might taste like the fancy sweets and honeyed candies he likes, that he keeps tucked into his bags and his pockets, that Albert sometimes loves because he can steal them Ciel whenever he wants, that Albert sometimes hates because Ciel never remembers to take them out of his pockets and they dissolve in sticky sugary puddles mixed into his own clothes.
As it is, Ciel tastes like his tears, and that, more than anything, jerks Albert back to the present, back to reality, where Ciel has Gina and doesn’t want him .
Albert digs his nails into the hand holding his chin, hard enough that Ciel pulls back, letting go of him, caught off guard, and Albert selfishly mourns the taste of salt on his tongue.
Ciel blinks wide blue eyes at him, confusion on his tear-tracked face, and Albert feels like he could cry.
He’s really screwed, this time.
“Go sleep,” he says roughly, before Ciel can say anything, and he’s so so grateful that Ciel, still out of it, obediently lays down with no argument.
They’ll have to talk about it in the morning. Oh, god .
===
Extra 11:
Albert has never deigned to call himself brave.
He slips from their room early the next morning, long before Ciel - or the sun, for that matter - has risen, and goes to the cafe, deserted at such an early hour, intent on rewriting some papers, but ends up staring blankly at his laptop screen instead, until the chatter of students crowd his senses, and he catches someone saying “ Ciel ”.
Albert looks up, and he catches sight of Ciel’s golden hair in the sunlight, heading to the cafe, and he meets his worried gaze over the mass of students here for breakfast, and-
Oh god, he’s not ready to talk about it.
Albert stands, ignoring the way his chair clatters to the floor, and flees.
He thinks, maybe, he can hear Ciel calling after him.
===
Extra 12:
He manages to avoid Ciel like this for most of the rest of the day.
Except - he forgets, he has orchestra practice today.
===
Extra 13:
Albert sees the handle turn, and unease settles into his stomach, because he didn’t check the lock, and-
“Albert,” Ciel says, no teasing smile at his lips, and Albert should have known, should have expected it, but- “We need to talk,” Ciel adds, somewhat unnecessarily.
He can hear the orchestra members fall silent, whispers building among them, unsubtle questions and uncertain concerns.
Albert can almost feel his throat closing up, and he’s dreading the conversation already.
But then, he’s avoided Ciel for most of the day already. He’s only putting off the inevitable.
He can delay it further, though. It’s the coward’s route, but it’ll grant him at least twenty minutes to mentally prepare himself for the rejection.
“We’ll stop here for today,” he tells the rest of the orchestra, “See you all next week.”
Albert keeps his head down and stares at his piano as they both wait for the rest of the orchestra to pack away their instruments, and resolutely ignores Ciel’s gaze boring into him.
===
Extra 14:
“So,” Ciel says, when all the other students have gone, and he’s stepped into the orchestra room and locked the door behind him.
Albert says nothing. He’s hyper aware of his heartbeat, thudding away at his ribs, too fast, too dizzying, counting down the milliseconds to the-
“I’m sorry,” Ciel says.
Albert nods, still trying to calm his heartbeat, and then the words register, and he jerks his head up, forgetting for a moment he’s supposed to be staring at his faux ivory piano keys. “What?”
“Yesterday?” Ciel makes an aborted movement with his hands. “You know?” he hesitates. “I’m sorry I- I’m sorry I kissed you,” he says, and his hands fall back limply to his sides, and he looks away.
“I- what?” Albert frowns, wrong-footed. This is not how he imagined the conversation to go. “Why are you apologising?”
“You don’t have to be an ass about it, ok?,” Ciel snaps, and sighs. “No, wait, sorry, I didn’t mean to- Let me try again.” He draws in a breath. “I kissed you, I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to, I know I took advantage, I was drunk, and I know that’s still no excuse, I’m sorry, can we please pretend it didn’t happen?”
Albert blinks. “What?”
Ciel looks like he’s contemplating taking a running leap off of the school rooftop. “I said , I’m sorry I kissed you-”
“No, no,” Albert interrupts. His head is reeling. “What do you mean, I didn’t want to? I kissed you back, what the hell, I’m sorry, I know you were chasing Gina, I shouldn’t have have-”
“I’m not chasing her,” Ciel says, cutting him off, and Albert feels a flash of annoyance despite having done the same mere seconds ago. “She- wait,” Ciel’s eyes widen almost comically. “You kissed me back? I- Wait, were you jealous ? Of Gina?”
And that stings , more than it should, the cavalier way Ciel’s taking this, now that he’s no longer guilted by his own drunken perceptions of the kiss Albert didn’t push away.
“No,” Albert snaps. “You didn’t force yourself on me, I’m not upset,” - and isn’t that one of the most bold-faced lies he’s told in a while - “let’s just pretend this never happened, what’s a little platonic making out between bros after all, can you just go ?”
Ciel doesn’t leave.
Instead, he steps closer, and a familiar smirk is curling it’s way up his face, and he says, tone light and relaxed, “Gina likes Carla, and you know Carla’s shy, so I figured I’d hang out with them till she doesn’t bolt when Gina talks to her. I’m flattered you think Gina and I could be a couple, but we’re both gay in the wrong direction, and anyway-” he shrugs. “I think her brother might skin me alive, if I even tried anything.”
Albert blinks. “Oh,” he says.
“Oh,” Ciel parrots, and he sits down, perched on the edge of Albert’s piano bench. “Now that we’ve cleared that up,” and the glance he casts at Albert’s mouth can’t be anything but deliberate, “is there anything about us that maybe, maybe , we should talk about?”
Albert can feel heat creeping up his ears, and he glares without heat at Ciel. “I think you know,” he says, and reaches for him.
Ciel catches his wrist, and his smile is evil . “I think I do,” he agrees, “But I want to hear you say it.”
Albert hesitates.
“You still owe me one,” Ciel says, reminding him of the favour that never was called in.
“Expired by now,” Albert counters, the banter coming back almost automatically.
Ciel hums, his thumb absently rubbing circles into Albert’s wrist. “Still.”
And maybe for this, he can let himself hope, maybe for this, he can be brave. Ciel is an irresponsible and self-centred arse sometimes, but he isn’t cruel, and he wouldn’t make him ask just to follow it with a rejection.
“Fine,” Albert says, and then, stiffly, because he can’t quite master the smooth charm Ciel has with words, forces out, “I like you. As more than a friend. I would like to go on a date with you. Happy?”
Ciel grins, sharp and pleased, and leans in closer. “Yeah, Bertie,” he whispers, and kisses him again.
Albert is gratified to find that he’s right - Ciel tastes like his honeyed candies.
===
Extra 15:
They break apart, and immediately, Albert says, “Don’t call me Bertie.”
Ciel blinks, and presses another kiss to the corner of Albert’s lips, closed-mouth and chaste. “ Darling ,” he whispers against his skin, and pulls away quickly enough that Albert could tell himself that Ciel wouldn’t have felt his shudder. “Better, ?” he asks, amused.
It feels real , this time, the darling s and the chéri s and the occasional amour , and-
“Yeah,” Albert says. “Much better.”
===
Extra 16:
“So, um,” Albert says, one-handedly passing Lilian tube after tube of Pringles, because movie night , and his friends have big mouths and even bigger stomachs. “I’m dating Ciel now,” he says, and nods at their intertwined hands.
Lilian doesn’t blink as she scans another green tube. “Now I’ll have a legit reason to slap you if you ask me out again,” she deadpans.
Albert stills. “Okay,” he says, a little wary. “I’ll just. You know. Not do that. Especially since, you know, I’m dating this guy.”
Lilian looks up, and smiles. “I was joking,” she says, reassuringly, as she bags up their crisps, and then decidedly not reassuringly, “Mostly joking. Congratulations. Have fun, stay safe, will you be needing cond-”