Disclaimer: Yana Toboso owns Ciel, Sebastian, and as time goes on, my sanity =)
Warning: Yaoi ahoy. If a relationship of that nature offends you, the back button lies to the upper left, awaiting your anxious clicking.
AN: This is Kinda, Sorta, Really important! (Oh, there I go, poking fun at myself...) Let me first say that I am still working on Stages Of Confliction, so rest assured that it shall one day meet its end. As for now, I hang my head in shame. Toss me onto Pervert Island with all the rest, if you like. It started while I was shopping for lip gloss online, and then escalated into several hours worth of researching make up of the 18th century, and ended with... well, this. It's such a silly concept, but it sounded like fun, so I thought, why not?
I'm OOC, Ciel is OOC, and Sebastian? OOC. This is because I based their mannerisms on the characterization provided by my current favorite doujin-ka, known as Naokichi, Pink no Koneko, or Pink Kitten. Her style is reminiscent of Toboso's, but with its own unique flair. She molds a world in which Sebastian and Ciel rut, cuddle, and possibly even love one another, and I fell head over heels for it. Don't get me wrong, though. I won't sugarcoat it. It's smut.
That being said, I hope this entices you to buy lip salve. LOTS OF IT ;D
Winters in England could be both very harsh, and very pleasant.
Harsh, if you were a person of poor social status. It was during the winter season that London became a maze of buildings blanketed by white frost. The snow would mean cold, and hunger, and countless alleys filled with huddled bodies. People with no homes. No food. Barely any clothing. Nothing but the hope in their hearts to keep them alive.
Pleasant, if you happened to be of a higher pedigree, say, nobility. The bitter cold marked a switch to dresses of heavy silk, coats of the finest and thickest wool, and extravagant parties that occurred throughout the season. All that mattered was indulgence. A sip or two of wine. A dance with the fairest lady at the affair. Nothing but the best entertainment that money could fetch.
That is the cruel way of all the world. There are people with success and wealth, who thoroughly enjoy the bounty they possess, and people with much less fortune, living day by day without direction. Life; a dual-sided coin that could easily land on either side, for anyone.
Luckily for the young Earl Phantomhive, it was not the dramatic ways of the world troubling him. In fact, it was something arguably worse.
"Sebastian… what is it that thing you are holding out to me, exactly?"
Ciel was sitting at the desk of his office with an irritable countenance.
A lone sapphire eye was looking away from where it should be- on a sizable pile of paperwork- and settled on the current distraction provided by a small tin offered by the palm of a gloved hand.
"Ah, this is something that I ordered especially for you, Young Master."
Ciel adopted an expression of complete incredulity. Whatever was in that tin was something that would kill him for certain, if that was the case.
"Care to tell me what it is? Or are you going to wait for me to meet my end after I foolishly open it?"
There was a rich laugh from the butler that made Ciel's eye narrow.
"It isn't anything deadly, Young Master. Such an insult to my character hurts, I must say."
"Then what the bloody hell is it? In case you didn't know, companies don't run themselves! I don't have time for this game of yours!"
Sebastian was smirking, enjoying the little bout, "But I thought the Young Master enjoyed all sorts of games?"
Ciel growled his frustration, "Not unnecessary ones! Honestly! Now either make known what it is you claim to have gotten for me, or leave! I daresay there's still plenty for you to do in the manor."
"Of course, sir. Now then."
The butler's smile hadn't faltered at all as he carefully undid the top of the shining tin. Ciel was still glaring as he took a curious look into its contents. It was full of something pale, with a consistency that reminded him of freshly melted candle wax.
"Well… what is it?"
"It's a salve, Young Master."
"And what, pray tell, do I need salve for, Sebastian?"
"Ah, well you see Young Master, the winter season is upon us. Though I've had plenty of coats tailored for you, as well as hats, scarves, and mittens, there are still parts of your body that will be inevitably exposed to the weather."
"The skin is delicate, Young Master. Being in the cold is sure to dry it considerably, and so I took the liberty of purchasing a salve to remedy this. The beeswax and olive oil in it will maintain and improve the skin's moisture."
"Sebastian. The only part of my body that I'd have to worry about exposing would be a fraction of my legs, and face, so…"
Ciel paused for a moment. The tin suddenly looked very familiar…
And then the memory resurfaced. Just a few weeks prior, during Elizabeth's latest visit, she had used a tin similar to this one after finishing her afternoon tea. She had dipped a finger into the little container, applying some of the contents to her lips. It had given them a subtle shine and fresh pink glow.
"You brought me a lip salve?"
"So you do know what it is. I have. I am in charge of keeping every part of the Young Master healthy, and that includes the lips. This salve was made without any significant pigmentation. A little dab will go completely unnoticed while keeping your lips from becoming chapped in the cold."
"I am not a woman, Sebastian!"
"It may not be contraband, but makeup is still a very touchy product. The Queen herself dislikes the use of it, so many nobles, men and women alike, use it with discretion. However, a lot of makeup has properties that are beneficial to the body regardless of one's gender."
"So you mean to tell me that men employ the use of such things?"
"Indeed they do. Though it isn't a common topic of discussion, I assure you. Perhaps your doubt would be assuaged if I applied some, so that you could try it?"
Ciel thought about it. Although it did not happen to him often, a chapped lip happened to hurt like hell. It made drinking tea displeasing and painful, and was unsightly, besides.
"I suppose a little wouldn't hurt…. But make haste. Oh, and this is an order- You are never to speak to anyone about my using-"
"Makeup?" Sebastian offered with enthusiasm.
"Yes, my Lord."
Ciel sported a minimal pout as he sat back in his seat, watching Sebastian remove his gloves with his mouth.
"I'm sure it must be your lips suffering, what with that manner you use to get rid of your gloves. Always pressing them against fabric; they must be rough as sandpaper by now."
Sebastian merely chuckled as he dipped a bare finger into the container. He coated his fingertip in the salve and then held it up.
"Now then. No moving, Young Master. I have to make sure to coat them evenly."
"Get a move on, Sebastian!"
Ciel watched attentively as the fingers came close to his face. Sebastian was looming over him with that crimson stare of his, and it made him feel a bit cautious. When the finger landed on his mouth, Ciel felt a spot of soft warmth accompanied by the faint scent of vanilla.
He remembered Sebastian's request to keep himself still, and did so not out of obedience, but to prove that he could wear the salve without any qualms, despite whatever Sebastian may believe.
"There now." Sebastian said softly, "Relax. No need to press them together like that, Young Master. You'll get more on your chin than lips."
Ciel grunted as he felt Sebastian's lone finger wiping across his bottom lip and then over the top. It made a few circuits, then quickly dabbed at the corners of his mouth, before Sebastian seemed satisfied.
"Now rub them together."
The earl did so, acutely aware of Sebastian's presence. That, and his oddly intense observing. Was it a trick of the light, or were those blood-colored jewels he had for eyes gleaming…?
"Make sure to spread the salve evenly." The demon instructed.
Ciel huffed impatiently, complying.
Sebastian was intrigued. The Young Master's lips were a faint pink from pressing together, the salve granting them a subtle sheen. A little rosebud of a mouth, petals slick with dew… Or two slices of a pale peach cut precisely and lined together… Moist and soft and much too tempting…
"It feels a little funny," Ciel snapped the butler out of his lecherous reverie, "and thick, somehow. If the Queen herself has expressed a dislike for this sort of product, perhaps it is with good reason. And how has it been determined that it is beneficial for lips anyway, Sebastian?"
"Well, perhaps you could repay me in kind, Young Master."
"I beg your pardon?" Ciel did not understand what Sebastian was implying, but he was absolutely sure that his eyes were churning with… something. If he couldn't tell what it was, it was not to be trusted. "Explain yourself, Sebastian."
"What I mean to say is, it might help to try the salve out on more than one person, to test how it varies in effectiveness."
The earl mulled it over. It seemed like a rational idea. In the back of his mind, he also managed to conclude that the pot of solid oils couldn't be harmful, if Sebastian was willing to try it on for himself.
"Alright. Go on then, and apply some to yourself as well."
"Oh, but perhaps you would help me as I did you, Young Master? What good would this little experiment be if done differently? I must be certain to achieve as even an application as you have."
"Are you asking me to do it for you?" A cerulean eye became wide with surprise.
"I only ask for what is most logical, Young Master. As a butler to the Phantomhive household, the application of any salve is a task simpler than breathing. However, if I do it myself, how will you be able to tell if there is any difference?"
Ah. It was a good point. Agitating, but valid.
"Fine. Now come here. And kneel while you're at it. You can't honestly be expecting me to reach a height as tremendous as yours."
The very idea of the boy ever reaching his height was subconscious wishful thinking, Sebastian thought, but refrained from saying so. Ciel hadn't grown much since the day they'd formed the covenant. He bore a sharp mind and strong presence, but the effect of such qualities were terribly lessened when presented in such a petite form.
The butler sank to his knees before his master with inhuman fluidity, and watched as the boy pressed his fingers to the surface of the salve. He held back a sound of amusement as Ciel made a face at the feel of it. He probably found the soft and slightly gooey texture displeasing.
"Don't move so I can end this quickly. And close your eyes. There's no need for you to stare at me while I do it." Ciel commanded, and he pressed the dry index finger of his other hand to the demon's lips after watching pale lids swallow fiery irises.
The boy was rather surprised to find that Sebastian's lips were already incredibly soft. The skin was hot and smooth and malleable beneath the pad of his finger, and Ciel drew a line across both top lip and lower lip before pulling away.
Sebastian was unmoving as he felt the finger coated with salve touch his lips seconds after, smearing it with a severe lack of precision. The boy was tentative. Even with closed eyes, he could tell.
"Steady your hand, Young Master," he said softly, making Ciel's hand retract, "Trace each lip as if you were painting the same curves over and over."
"Don't interrupt!" Ciel chastised as he resumed the task, sliding his finger over the shape of Sebastian's mouth. The digit's movement became a slow and focused caress.
Ciel began to feel as though he really was painting, much like he was forced to do for his art lessons. But his canvas was a plump line of hot, silky skin, and his brush was the tip of his finger, which was beginning to tingle. When he realized that he was somehow beginning to enjoy his task, he stopped abruptly.
"Sebastian, get up. That should do it."
The demon opened his eyes and stood (again, with that perfect grace) and pressed his lips together. Oils overpowered by vanilla, and the faint taste of his master's skin lingered on his mouth.
"Now how do I determine if it's worked?"
Sebastian's lips parted with a soft 'smack'. "Well, there is a way you could assess that for yourself, and it wouldn't take very long at all, Young Master."
"Ugh, but this stuff is messy. Wipe it off, Sebastian. And if you're aware of a way to prove the worth of the salve then tell me what it is."
Sebastian retrieved a kerchief from his front pocket and wrapped the soiled finger in it, rubbing it clean. At the same time, he found himself ogling Ciel's lips again, admiring the flesh veiled by a thin, lustrous layer. He was so engrossed that he'd even forgotten that he still had hold of one of the earl's hands.
"Can you tell if it's working just from looking?" Ciel asked impatiently. So far the only thing he'd been convinced of was that the lip cosmetic smelled nice and felt slippery, but that didn't prove much in terms of efficiency.
"I can't say. Allow me a closer look." The demon's face was closer, the distance between them shrinking by the second, and Ciel's heart leapt into his throat. "I think," Sebastian was crooning, "that I might be able to tell if you let me inspect more closely…"
"Sebastian, w-what in the hell do you think you're doing!"
"Helping you to decide if you like the salve, of course, Young Master."
"By what means?" Ciel's face was growing hot, his cheeks stained an attractive shade of amaranth. He squirmed, but Sebastian's hold on his hand was enough to keep him from escaping.
"You are spectacular, Young Master. So well-versed in acting innocent around others that you are unable to recognize when it has ceased to be false. I want to kiss you, is it not obvious? You've been poring through your work all day, and quite frankly, neglect does not bode well with me."
"So all this business with the salve was-"
"A distraction." Sebastian was smiling, thoroughly pleased with himself. "One very well executed, if I do say so myself."
"Catering to your needs isn't my concern! And what kind of fool are you, getting jealous over a stack of paperwork?"
Sebastian picked the boy up beneath his arms without warning. He took the earl's position for himself, his own lap becoming the boy's seat.
"You misunderstand me, Young Master. I am not jealous. I daresay that aroused would make for a much better description. For the both of us, it would seem, hm?"
"Ah-! Stop that this instant, Sebastian!"
Ciel gasped, a moan bursting from his throat unexpectedly as Sebastian's hands slipped to his slim hips and pressed their bodies together.
The demon chuckled, "As I thought. It would seem that the two of us share a new penchant for cosmetics, wouldn't it? What do you think… would you like to continue to see how useful the salve really is? I think you'll enjoy it quite a bit."
"You hedonist. You'd say just about anything to get me to agree."
"That is true, but remember one thing, Young Master."
Lips sleek with the balm pressed to his neck, a well known point of weakness, and Ciel trembled.
"No matter what I say, I never lie to you."
"And what truth are you going to attempt to seduce me with this time?"
"At this moment, the simplest one I can voice."
Ciel could feel himself giving in little by little, but he was so familiar with the routine that it hardly mattered. This was how the majority of their trysts began. His pride would always form a wall of resistance, a futile effort that Sebastian always brought crumbling down.
The earl could feel his desire worm its way through his frustration at having been tricked so easily, and communicated it by pressing a chaste kiss to Sebastian's head. That was exactly how the demon knew he'd found victory. When Ciel conceded, his white flag was a gentle peck, a gesture that Sebastian had become very fond of.
"What might that be?" Ciel asked softly, his breath thickening in anticipation.
"I want you, Young Master."
AN: The beginning was made to sound serious, as a joke (oh, the irony). So don't hate me for it, lol. This outta be done within a day or two.
Hope you enjoyed so far ;)