|seven deadly sins
Author: sacrosanctioned PM
Ciel's a sinner but Sebastian doesn't mind.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Ciel P. & Sebastian M. - Words: 1,906 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 1 - Published: 12-18-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7649130
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
a/n: I'm… not completely happy with this. It was a way to get the feel of these two characters, learn characterization for this fandom, and to scratch the surface of Ciel's personality constructed from his past. Feel free to leave some constructive criticism if you feel I missed something about Ciel and/or Sebastian.
warnings: borderline smut, not really. rated t+ anyways for sexual themes.
seven deadly sins
He used to pray.
Sitting amongst the pews, he would fold his hands together and offer words up to God, praying for the happiness and the safety of his family; for his wedding to be beautiful and perfect with the perfect little girl he loved. Sometimes, he'd be alone in the church, singing hymns beneath his breath and hands sitting behind his back as he glanced up to the magnificent roof, surrounded by stained-glass windows and sparkling sunshine flitting across his vision. He'd smile because he had the most wonderful parents and Aunt An was going to take him out for sweets.
And then there was fire, and there was blood, and there was the scent of burning flesh that had him fleeing the not-so-sanctity of his bedroom and into the not-so-secure room that held his parents. He came across two not-moving bodies instead, lifeless and, just like that with grabbing hands in the cold night air and pale faceless faces, he was ripped away from the world he'd known and became a caged animal. Stripped of any sort of innocence, of dignity, of comforting arms and loving kisses.
In the dark corners of his mind, while his body was being branded as property, a tiny voice whispered, no one's going to save you.
The floor was always cold, his body always ached, and his stomach always growled, longing for some kind of sustenance. The faceless faces mocked him for his insecurity and nakedness, laughing at the child with no family and no defenses.
Such a pretty face—
Be a shame to let it go to waste, yes?
I'd like to have him…
Such a pretty, pretty face with pretty blue eyes.
And the little boy with the pretty face and the pretty blue eyes cried out for someone to save him, prayed for some kind of savior, and before he knew what he was doing, he summoned a demon.
And he signed away his eye and his soul, such a small price to pay for the freedom of revenge.
After that, Ciel never prayed again.
Fleeting glances and touching skin, flushed flesh among the Egyptian cotton sheets; each night they'd play a game, dancing around each other with careful precision and nearly four years of companionship.
There was a fine line between master and lover and Ciel had lost sight of it long ago.
Sebastian's fingers were deft, skilled; Ciel was exposed in the deepest sense of the word whenever it was just him and his demon, coiled around each other like the Cheshire cat and Alice. Such a strange combination, intricate and delicate as they moved, a macabre tango of sin that had Ciel reeling from the knowledge he was casting away his God and his Heaven for a little piece of Hell. He lost himself often, caught in the vines of wonderland and his feet sinking into murky depths of the unknown. There was Sebastian, and there was him, and there was the contract that bound them together.
Soft moans permeated the air, the servants continued to sleep blissfully.
His sense of boundary was whipped away in a hurricane of sensual contact, his mind replaced by a muddled mess of pleasure.
Love and lust were blurred together and maybe that was the biggest sin of all.
He was a lover of sweets, indulgent in his own company's chocolate.
Sebastian, Ciel could not deny, prepared the greatest sweets of them all; he'd savor the taste for the smallest amount of time before daintily devouring every last morsel of chocolate, tart, candy he could have. When Sebastian was distracted with something or other, Ciel would head down into the kitchen just to see what was readily available for taking. He'd get a reprimand for it later, of course, especially if he chose to take something that was a special preparation.
But Ciel didn't mind, because the sweets were always sweeter when tainted with slyness.
"Young master, that was for the Marchioness' visit tonight."
"So prepare another."
Sebastian sighed, wiping the bit of chocolate that had stuck to the corner of his master's mouth.
"That's not the point," he murmured; Ciel raised a delicate eyebrow, folded his hands beneath his chin and smirked. "No sweets before dinner, remember?"
The boy took another bite of the cake, licked his lips slowly, and tilted his head to the side.
Sebastian smiled a devious smile before leaning forward.
"That means, do not sneak down and thieve the dessert."
The cake was forgotten on the desk.
There were some days following the events of the circus that had Ciel buried beneath the covers of his bed, unable to function with even the basics.
His throat sore, coughs escaping from chapped lips every couple minutes, a fever reaching far above healthy—Ciel was ill and there was little to do about it. Sebastian, with help from both Agni and Soma, attempted to nurse him back to health through carefully prepared soups and bed rest; but it was difficult, for Ciel had work to do and business to take care of, and he couldn't very well do it from the sanctuary his bed provided. Despite his arguments and protesting, Sebastian didn't budge for the sake of the boy's health.
So Ciel used it to his advantage.
He knew Sebastian had multiple tasks to take care of around the mansion, but he utilized the bell to call forth the butler every fifteen minutes, requesting something that he didn't particularly need. Sebastian was compliant but Ciel could see he was becoming just a tad bit annoyed; to the naked eye, he looked as content as ever, but Ciel had learned to read him.
And read him he did.
"Allow me to at least work in my study," Ciel choked out on the seventeenth call. "I need to complete the report on the murdered bartender case, I can't be cocooned in my bedroom like some overprotected child just because of a small illness."
"It's a bad cold, young master, and you are in no condition to work. Just enjoy a relaxing day in bed for once, yes?"
"No," Ciel argued, attempting to sit up. Sebastian shook his head and helped him, patting his back as another round of coughs broke through his meager defenses. "It's not like I'm having an asthma attack, so—"
"And besides," Sebastian interrupted, a small smirk lifting his lips as he tucked his master back in. "Are you not enjoying having me at your beck and call at every fifteen minute interval?"
And it was then he realized Ciel was greedy for the company Sebastian brought with him each time he entered the boy's bedroom.
Ciel wasn't lazy but he often found himself being carried in the arms of a demon.
It was strange at first, though he hadn't registered what was happening due to his mind being preoccupied with everything else. Eventually, he became accustomed to being lifted up and held onto by Sebastian, though he still walked the majority of the time.
He wasn't lazy, but he would not be able to function fully if it wasn't for Sebastian dressing him in the morning and night, setting up his bath, and cooking each meal with expertise and care. He relied on Sebastian to protect him, to be by his side until the end of his own eternity, because that was their contract and he wouldn't have it any other way.
He knew it was wrong but he didn't care.
Pure, unadulterated rage would take him by surprise when he was presented the criminal of each case he took on for the queen.
He couldn't quite understand the working of their minds, corrupted and craving something from each life they took. Auctioneers had him itching to reach for his gun and shoot before they had a chance to blink but he fought it, focusing on catching them red-handed before making the final move.
It was a game of chess.
He was the king.
But his anger was misplaced when he didn't act on it, burying it with the rest of the feeble emotions he had no use for. When he lost control, however, hesitation disappeared and he became ruthless, eyes seeing redredred.
Sebastian directed the anger away by complying with the orders.
And when they returned to the townhouse, Sebastian soothed his frazzled nerves with warm milk and honey, a reminder of where they once stood with each other after the first night of master and butler.
Lady Elizabeth was a happy girl, with happy thoughts and a mission to protect Ciel from himself.
Ciel used to pray that his wedding with her would be perfect, with his parents in the front row and her parents in the front row and it would be lovely and perfect and they'd be together forever.
But Ciel had learned from his captivity and harsh abductors that life was not perfect and that there were no perfect people in the world. He was roughened by the mistreatment and harsh around the edges, accepting little in the way of comfort and immaturity. He missed the comfort of his family, yes, but he had learned to move on and ignore the loneliness that assaulted him in the hours of night.
But Lizzy—Lizzy was happy, she tried so hard to obtain awareness from her future fiancée, and Ciel couldn't help but envy her and her limitless bubbling personality.
Because he was tainted, he was doomed, and smiling was something he had forgotten.
Pride defined him.
He held his head up high to the nobles who questioned his position; he was proud to be the darkness, the watchdog of the queen. His innocence had been left behind and his dignity was a mask to shield himself from the cruel, unkind, unsympathetic ways of society. He had built his kingdom upon a broken platform, became the underground noble and earl, worked with questionable faces like the Undertaker and Lau. He was who he was because of Sebastian but he held his pride close to himself to remind him that he was no longer a child.
The only one who had ever seen beneath the mask was Sebastian; he pulled away the layers late at night, stripping the boy of his pride, envy, wrath, gluttony, and leaving only the frail human he contracted with on that faithful night.
And Sebastian loved it.
And Ciel loved him.
And they were a cacophony of sin, a paradox to each other.
And in the end, Ciel would fall victim to that trust he placed within his demon.
A calamity called life, ended by the very thing that made living again in a world of regret possible.
But Ciel loved every second of it—