Author's Note: Many, many moons ago, I wrote "Anatomy Lessons." Soon after, I wrote "Anatomy Lessons: 102," and "Anatomy Lessons: 201," but did not post them on ff(dot)net due to… increased graphic content, let's say.
Recently, however, the insanely talented artist Neneko (creator of the unspeakably wonderful SebaCiel doujinshi, "Phobia") finished a doujinshi-version of the original "Anatomy Lessons," and I really want to make sure that everyone has a chance to read it. Thus, the true reason behind this "update" is to share a link to her gorgeous rendition. As a bonus, though (because I'm not allowed to just post an A/N on ff(dot) net), I'll also share with you the beginning of both "102" and "201," as well as links to the full stories.
To Read Neneko's "Anatomy Lessons" Doujinshi: http(colon)(slash slash)www(dot)animexx(dot)net(slash)doujinshi(slash)favoriten(slash)492286(slash)output(slash)45628(slash)76602(slash)
Anatomy Lessons: 102
Ciel studied biology in bed.
Human anatomy changed rapidly as little boys grew into little men, and not even the Earl of Phantomhive was exempt from the transformation. Though the unseen hand of puberty had only-just begun wrapping its indelible fingers around the petite nobleman, there was no denying that the passing years had already left a physical mark on him. He could feel it in his elongating bones— the straining of his lean muscles, the thinning of his cheeks. What had once been round and soft was slowly becoming angled and hard, exemplified by the bony knobs of hip and knee, and the vertical vault of vertebrae that strained against the taut encasement of his alabaster skin.
The Greeks had been right, the boy often mused, to celebrate the male form as the pinnacle of human perfection; from slender throat to delicate ankle, there was nothing quite so stunning as his own naked flesh, glowing a snowy shade of rose after an evening bath. He saw nothing intrinsically egotistic about this opinion, either. In Ciel's eyes, his beauty was a simple fact, as obvious and incontrovertible as the splendor of the morning sky, or the open sea, or the shining vermillion universe reflected in his butler's cat-slit gaze.
Particularly the latter.
The fireless blaze of the demon's derisive stare fell upon the teen's mind disturbingly often, these days: like a shower of glowing embers, sizzling, broiling, devouring— leaving the scars of ideas in their wake… small enough to ignore, big enough to distract. Hot enough to hurt. Even late at night, when the House was asleep and the moon was aglow, a passing thought of his servant was all it took to stir the coals within his soul; like a poker of rusting wrought iron, daydreams and nightmares were often able to nurse that flickering flare into something stronger, something hotter—virulent and vexing, writhing deep within his core.
To Read the Full Story: http(colon)(slash slash)moon(dash)maiden36(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)127991(dot)html
Anatomy Lessons: 201
It began—as other lessons had—on the carpeted floor.
Impulsive, impatient, and feral, Ciel's tiny body had all but catapulted from its cushioned seat, catching the butler completely off-guard and thus setting him precariously off-balance. Wedgewood dishware—balanced so carefully atop a silver tray— tipped, tumbled, and shattered, weaving china-sharp spider-webs into the ivory threads of the rug. The smashed skull of the porcelain pot bled boiling red liquids; the perfume of apple blossoms clung to the spattered mess of the once-promising conglomeration of teatime treats. An upturned tureen of cream-colored crème brule splattered against the ground not four inches beyond the contracted pair, its warm and brittle crust of sugar-spun sweetness cracking and crumbling and flaking away… like so much will-power, so much sanity. Thus released, the iced dessert's frosted insides slowly began oozing outward: hesitant at first, but with increased vigor and vitality as the heat of the moment softened the substance— as Ciel forced himself upon the devil, and the devil pretended he could not resist.
But even as he lay there, pinned beneath his zealous little lord, Sebastian wasn't quite sure what had instigated this most reckless of responses; wasn't certain which of his carefully applied straws had finally broken the earl's fragile back. Had it been the warm rush of scented air that had tickled the boy's exposed nape, alerting him to the nearness of his wandering servant? Had it been the butterfly kiss of the demon's inky tresses, caressing the child's throat and collar as the butler bowed unexpectedly closer, correcting his charge on a misspelled word? Had it been the whisper of Sebastian's hot breath against Ciel's pert and sensitive ear, in a velvet voice so deliciously devious that even the most mundane of declarations (Allow me to fetch the young master a refreshment) became something sinful and sexual?
Did it matter either way?
Ciel required no prompting to join Sebastian, this time—an untamed anxiety had long-since taken hold of the licentious gentleman, poisoning his mind with the most natural and potent of all aphrodisiacs: desire. Animalistic lust, heightened by innumerable months of watching, wanting, wondering, and wishing, gleamed in the heady azure eyes of the teenager; Sebastian caught their indigo flash just-moments-before his master squeezed them shut for good, long lashes shivering with nerve-rattling need.
To Read the Full Story: http(colon)(slash slash)moon(dash)maiden36(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)128558(dot)html