A/N:Written for 12 fics LiveJournal writing challenge community using the prompt #9 – mockery.

Disclaimer: Toboso Yana and all associated companies are the rightful owners of the Kuroshitsuji universe. No copyright infringement intended and no money is being made out of this. Please support the mangaka by buying her work.

Warnings: implied shota.

You Weave The Darkness Like A Shroud

It's whispers in the dark and sinister smiles all through the twilight and two eyes like burning coals all the rest of the time which keep Ciel trapped in this wicked loop. A layer of black settles softly over everything he says and does, and thinks because there is always a demon walking by his side. Sometimes Ciel is ready to swear that he can feel the cloying scent of rot, a sickly sweet smell everywhere the demon sets his foot, but he knows that to be only his imagination – he has proven this to himself a thousand times over already. Because Sebastian doesn't smell like rot and death, or even dirt. He has touched Ciel so many times, he dresses him every morning and undresses him every evening and all the young Earl has felt waft off him is the scent of soap and clean clothes. His very existence is a mockery of everything Ciel has ever known about demons – or has thought to know about them – not that his knowledge is very extensive. Old wives' tales had been the only thing to go by before the encounter with the real thing.

Ciel slips up only once and hates himself for the rest of the time.

"You don't smell like fire and brimstone."

The smile Sebastian gives him could skin a man alive.

"I was not aware that Master took interest in such things."

"I do not," Ciel snaps, but words are like fleeing birds – lose grip on them once and they are gone forever, never to return again to your golden cage.

"Have I failed to accommodate my Master's wishes in some way?" Sebastian takes Ciel's little slip and runs with it the wrong way. His words are a challenge as well as seduction and while his face is impassive, if a little fake with concern, his eyes burn in amusement. "In which case I apologise and ask my Master to point out my shortcomings."

"No." Ciel wishes for the ground to open up and swallow that demon. He can never escape his eyes just like nothing escapes those burning eyes – the only hint at his true nature which Sebastian doesn't hide.

"But what could have possibly prompted such a curious inquiry, I wonder?" Sebastian muses and trails off on a tangent which never connects. "Surely, there must have been a shortcoming on my part…"

There is none and they both know it, but Sebastian is not about to let it go. He pushes the limits, playing on his little master's stern nature and ventures beyond the allowances.

If they would not be standing so close, Ciel would feel safe, but right now Sebastian has just finished buttoning up his vest and adjusting his bowtie, and is kneeling in front of him. His hands are too close, his eyes still burn down upon him even though they are at the same eye-level right now, and Ciel is reminded of a touch, a look, a breath that burned their way into him and he has to suppress the urge to take a step backwards. (Foolish, that would be. Behind him there is only the bed and he would fall.) Ciel could never forget the night when they made it something more than a pledge for revenge in exchange for a soul. They made it something more, something physical, something tangible, and at the same moment they made it something… less. Sebastian cannot help but feel slightly disappointed, having to lower himself to using sex as a means. There are still ways to go before he can bring this meal to perfection.