
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1054806.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Michaelis/Ciel_Phantomhive
  Character:
      Sebastian_Michaelis, Ciel_Phantomhive
  Additional Tags:
      Crossdressing, Mind_Games, Alternate_Universe, Anal_Sex, Religious
      Discussion, Church_Sex, Trans_Character, Genderfluid_Character, Gender
      Exploration, She_figures_it_out_in_the_end, Off_Hiatus
  Series:
      Part 1 of Stocking!verse
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-22 Words: 3593
****** A Church Pew in the Sun at Midday ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Sebastian hunts him down, and then strings him up.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
As Sebastian stepped into the church, doors falling closed behind him with a
hush of wood, and oiled metal hinges, a smile was already gracing his lips. It
had been a long chase around the town, a long game of tag he had played with
his master, and he was pleased to have reached the end. He was even more
pleased about the prospect of his prize.
And when his eyes finally lit upon him, perched at the edge of a pew, pious as
an angel, his smile widened into something feral and fierce.
Lately, Ciel had taken to dressing differently. The first morning, Sebastian
thought he was joking when he refused the neat suit his butler had pulled from
the closet, and instead pointed to the pretty mess of ruffles and ribbons and
sharp whalebone that resided in the remote corner of his wardrobe, the
bedraggled remnant of a kidnapping.
But he hadn’t been. His little master had been entirely serious.
A whim, Sebastian had thought, and nothing more. He was fifteen now, his
master, and still slender and delicate, growing so elegantly from a boy into a
man, that Sebastian was sometimes shocked by the beauty of his charge. It was
understandable, this curiosity, this need to… to experiment when one looked
into the mirror and saw something so fey, and entrancing.
The next day, Ciel sent for a seamstress. Not Nina, he had specified, his eyes
oh-so serious as he sat, a perfect painting of a lordling behind his imposing
oaken desk. He needed someone who was efficient, and would ask no questions.

And, he had added, almost absentmindedly the thin china handle of his teacup
held in a delicate grip, someone who was very good with women’s clothing.
And what was he to say to that, but ‘Yes, my lord.’
That day he was wearing silk and satin, huge flowing ripples of heavy, rich
fabric that draped over him in delicate folds. His waist was trim, held snug by
the corset that just that morning Sebastian had bound him into. His hair, which
had been left to grow those last few months, curled into waves around the edges
of his ears, barely brushing the line of his jaw. The blue studs he wore winked
in the dim light.

He was truly beautiful, untouchable, a curious creature in cream and cobalt,
wool cloak falling from his shoulders. His eyes were trained on the cross in
front of him, but Sebastian could see the small smirk on his painted mouth, the
delicate rise and fall of his bared collarbones as he breathed nervously at
simply the knowledge of Sebastian’s presence.
Sebastian walked into the room, making his footsteps heavy and deliberate to
announce his presence. The church smelled rich, of incense and wine, carnal
smells for a holy place. He could smell the sweet rose and powder scent of
Ciel, the smell of boy, and wealth and the rushing warmth that hinted of blood
and soul. It was an intoxicating combination.

“Sebastian.” And Ciel turned to face him, piously clasped hands falling to rest
in a silk-draped lap, eyes fixed on him steadily, but demurely. (He loves Ciel
as he is, but Sebastian has to admit the pretty ingenue he purports to be when
dressed in such fripperies is also quite charming.)

Full pink painted lips were wetted by a quick tongue, before sharp teeth sank
into the plump flesh. Sebastian felt his own mouth begin to water in response.
Quite charming indeed.
“Come sit down, Sebastian. You may sit next to me. After all, butler or no, we
are all equal before God.”

Sebastian marveled at the even tone displayed, the feminine lilt trilling over
words which he knew his master believed not at all. His eyes caught on the pale
line of delicate neck as Ciel shifted casually to look at him, eyes wide and
framed with thick lashes to make them dizzyingly large, even as one pale hand
reached out to rest on his knee.
“Yes, young Mistress?”

One of the first times Ciel had dressed in such a manner, the newly stitched
and flounced green riding dress making him look slender and commanding, a
virgin huntress, he had made the mistake of calling him ‘young master’.
Ciel could wield a riding crop equally no matter the presentation, or what
amount of clothes he wore.

The young mistress reached up to tap his lips thoughtfully with one delicate
finger, hands kitten-small, and so white against his mouth.

“It’s just…” He trailed off for a minute and Sebastian watched him think
patiently, the very coyness imbued in the gesture charming him further. He
loved the delicacy of this Ciel, something so normally unseen in his young
master. He was crushed by the pressures of his past, and his position that to
see him smiling and laughing and frowning so prettily was a true if silly
pleasure. “I am beginning to worry for your soul, Sebastian.”

Eyebrows rising, Sebastian opened his mouth, although he wasn’t sure what he
was going to say. Before anything could slip from his lips, the same cold
little finger pressed against his open mouth, shushing him.

“So.” Ciel carried on, hand poised before his butler’s face, eyes alight with
hungry interest even as his mouth was forced into a concerned moue. “I have
decided to pray for you. After all Sebastian, we all must think of what will
become of us. Our souls must go somewhere.”

And Sebastian smiled, eyes flashing, and he could hear as Ciel’s heartbeat sped
up, the silk rustling deliciously as he stood, an angel before him, eyes
glowing with excitement, cheeks already flushing.

“However, I need help praying. I am long out of practice.”

Sebastian nodded eyes wide and solemn mouth still quirked into a half-smile and
at the motion the finger fell away.
“Of course, my lady. I will do anything you require of me. Looking after your
soul is my only duty.”

Ciel smiled, a mysterious little curve, and stepped forward, closer and closer,
and Sebastian could feel his pants already growing tight just from the look of
him, the sweet smell of dried roses, the way he moved so carefully, his tiny
frame making each step in pointed French heels. Another step and Sebastian let
his eyes widen, mouth falling open a little and made as if to scoot back.

“Young mistress, you can’t-in front of god-“
“Shhh” Ciel crooned, and slid suddenly forward into Sebastian’s lap, and
Sebastian filled his hands with slippery silk and warm boy to keep him from
sliding, drawing him closer as though unintentionally. “Shhh, Sebastian. Didn’t
you say you would help me? Didn’t you say you would make me pray?”

Ciel was already his prey. Captured, and waiting quietly to be devoured.
But that part of him was not part of this game. For that was all this was, a
pretty game to pass the time, a game of wits and teeth and tongues, a game of
gasps and moans and sighs. Sebastian knew this game well, but never had it been
quite so much fun.

“I… I did…” And he allowed his expression to cloud, looking uncertain, and Ciel
smiled triumphantly before reaching for one of his hands and sliding it under
his skirt. His hand brushed silky hose, and warm thigh, and he let a gasp
escape his lips even though he wanted to growl.

“Here…” Ciel murmured, and Sebastian found his hand against something warm, and
alive, pressed against a pair of delicate undergarments. He could feel Ciel’s
warmth hard against his palm, moisture from the tip already seeping through the
fabric to slide slickly against his skin. His fingers tightened around him,
clenching them just enough to watch Ciel’s eyes flutter, mouth open in a
pleased moan, before he pulled his hand away as though burned.
He smirked inwardly at the look of disappointment that painted Ciel’s pretty
face, the flash of anger at being disobeyed sparking his insolent eyes.

“Young mistress, this is a sin-“

“Sebastian.” He murmured and despite the softened tones he can hear the biting
undertone, the iron of his will. “Make me pray.”

“Yes, Young Mistress.” And Sebastian let his hands slip back under the cool
dress. And under there, under the delicate tenting of fabric it was not cool at
all. His master was warm and sticky, and when Sebastian wrapped a hand around
him, delicate thighs tensed, tender muscle squeezing together at the feeling.
His hands pumped him for only a moment, before pulling away, the pads of his
fingers betraying his desire to continue.

Ciel opened his mouth, and Sebastian kissed him before he could protest, a
hungry kiss, one that had nothing to do with God or the church. It was sharp
and demanding, and fiery hot. And he could hear Ciel whining, a curious keening
sound coming from the back of his throat. Sebastian stood quickly, and
deposited Ciel back onto the pew, a quick tumble of flounced fabric, before
kneeling before him.

Sebastian watched the protests his charge was about to make die a quick death
as he began to scatter whisper soft kisses along his ankle, slipping one cream
and silver shoe off a small pink foot. The other received the same treatment,
and when he hooked Ciel’s knees over his shoulders, wrinkling his uniform in
the process, tiny hands were balled into fists, knuckles white on the soft blue
silk and Sebastian felt his face flushing. (That strange human reaction he has
only to cats and his master begging in dresses
Truly human forms are incomprehensible.

The skirts were lifted up just long enough to duck his head under, and then he
let the heavy masses of fabric rush back around him, the sound a sensual
slither. The underwear, pale blue silk, trimmed with the most fragile of lace,
was stretched around Ciel’s arousal, a damp streaky line darkening the fabric
in the front. The flushed head of his master peeked from the waistband, a
testament to how much he truly wanted this. It looked red, and dirty against
the clean stretch of silk, and the white of his soft thighs.

Sebastian felt his mouth watering again, and when the silk was pulled down and
his mouth was wrapped around the wet length, his smile became stretched and
distorted.

Ciel moaned, a high breathy and overall feminine sound, and it made his blood
race. He licked carefully around the head, soaking him thoroughly. (Later he
would have trouble concentrating as he washed these delicate garments, cleaning
his saliva and the sticky fluid that dripped from the head of Ciel’s cock.) The
young master was only fifteen, and he was small, easy to suck into his mouth,
to wrap his tongue around. Sebastian liked the metallic taste of him, the way
his thighs would tremble under his hands, the way Ciel had hands fisted into
his uniform, grasping helplessly at the back of his suit as he ruined the
pretty mistress with his mouth, lips wrapped slickly around his cock, the
length fitting so perfectly into him.

“God…” Ciel moaned and his body shuddered, making Sebastian smile around the
hot flesh in his mouth. He pulled away with an audible pop, and Ciel let out a
strangled choking sound, and tiny heels drummed on the floor. As replacement,
Sebastian belatedly removed his gloves, tossed them carelessly to the floor,
and slid two of his own fingers into his mouth. He could hear Ciel panting
above him, and imagined the picture he must make, cheeks flushed with light
rouge and heavy want, mouth open and swollen from being bitten. The tightness
of his corset restricting every gasped breath and he loved the way every inhale
was so sharp and defined due to the restrictive garment.

It was one of many reasons he tied it so tight in the morning.

He pulled his fingers from his mouth, and slid the first into Ciel with
surprising ease, ears listening intently to the stream of prayer and blasphemy
that spilled helplessly from the boy’s mouth, loud in the quiet church. The
second finger joined the first, before he bent back to his previous task,
sucking harder, pulling him deeper into the hellish warmth of his mouth. Ciel
was mewling and tossing underneath him, small hands pulling his skirt up,
causing the bunched fabric to spill like a lush frame around the spectacle
between his thighs.

Inside, Ciel was warm and tight, the muscles slick and rippling around his
crooked fingers. It made his heart pound, his blood racing in his ears, and for
every noise, Sebastian worked harder, sucking him more intensely, lashing his
tongue against the small, sensitive rounded head, the thrumming motion making
Ciel thrash in turn underneath him. He could hear the thin gasping pants of his
breath, the way the tightly bound corset creaked as he tried to suck more air
into his lungs, the heavy rustle of the rich dress against the pew.
Sebastian pulled back slowly, watching as Ciel shook at the sudden lack of
sensation, the coolness of the air. He was a gorgeous debauched picture, skirt
framing white thighs and the leaking swollen length of his cock out on display.
Pretty silk and lace underwear shoved hastily to the side, twisted and damp
with his saliva. The light poured down from the stained glass windows makes his
skin glisten obscenely, open to the air.

His other glove was pulled off, and dropped carelessly to the floor. Ciel
watched his face, mouth red, not from the paint he spread on casually every
morning, but from biting into it in the fever of his lust. His eyes were huge,
and skittish, the pleasure and sudden stop of such making him nervous.

The only sound in the church was the sound of his breathing.

Sebastian pulled his coat from his shoulders and draped it delicately across a
pew, coiling the pocket watch he kept clipped to waist neatly on top. His
shirts were un-tucked in a quick flurry of movement, and he watched as Ciel
watched him, eyes hungry on the flick of his fingers, the arch of his arms, the
fall of his hair and on his hands as they traced down to rest at the waist of
his neat black slacks.

His fingers popped the first button, then the second and the third, and already
Sebastian was pressing eagerly into the feel of his own hand, hips moving
unconsciously into any friction, having forgone any undergarments.

As he normally did, when Ciel woke and requested clothes from the armoire
across the room. Sitting in his bed as though it is a throne, one finger
pointing ramrod straight to the carved cabinet that held such wonders.

Ciel. Ciel who was turning over, huge gathers of frothy ruffles, and delicate
lace bunched into his fists as he knelt on the pew, tiny silk panties hanging
from one ankle, stained and crumpled, the delicate silk probably ruined. His
ass was white and round, spread wide enough for Sebastian to see his hole, red
and grasping and the slick, dripping length of him underneath. It made him
smile. It made him want.

He walked forward, one hand still wrapped around his own length, and Ciel
twisted around as well as he could in the restrictive corset, bare knees
pressed into the unforgiving wood of the bench, watching as Sebastian walked
towards him, cock exposed so indecently. His eyelashes were huge, and Sebastian
realized that he was wearing powder, his lids delicately rimmed in kohl, made
to look wide, and vapid. The thought of Ciel sitting at his mirror, delicately
applying the blackening powder to his eyes, mouth distorted, made him curse,
and Ciel smiled at him, a knowing smirk of lips.

“Shouldn’t you be repenting?” Sebastian murmured bitingly, and his voice was
cold with concentration, as he watched a shiver run through his young master at
the sound, his thighs trembling. He had to hold him steady to fuck into him,
one hand braced flat against the smooth white cheek of his ass, his thumb
stretching him open. Sliding into him was- was. Sebastian’s eyes slid closed,
tiny fangs sinking into his lower lip at the sensation.
“Oh, god, Sebastian,” Ciel was bucking now, his body writhing back and forth
awkwardly on the pew as Sebastian stood still, fucking himself back onto the
stationary man. His face was red with exertion, eyes mostly pupil, his mouth a
rich strawberry smear, and Sebastian reached around rubbing a thumb across him
mouth, watching the delicate rouge smear down Ciel’s chin. “God, please, fuck
me I need you, please Sebastian-“

Sebastian pulled back, his hands guiding the young boys hips into him, watching
him lose the pretty painted act he’d put on all morning. His movements
stuttered, and his voice varied from soft feminine sighs, to low moaning grunts
as Sebastian thrust into him, his cock pulling around and against the
fluttering muscles, and when Sebastian paused again one slender hand snaked
down to his cock, pumping himself gently. Demurely. Neatly trimmed oval nails
pressing into the wet slit.

Sebastian groaned, his eyes sliding closed, as he fucked into him harder,
listening to the cries that poured from Ciel’s mouth, every possible
combination of plea, prayer and blasphemy all combining with the butler’s own
name. The heavy thumping creak of the church pew as their bodies collided into
each other. The thick taste of incense on his tongue. The rattle of the door.

The rattle of the-

Sebastian’s eyes snapped open. His cock pulled free with a wet pop, and the
feeling almost unmanned him, almost made him come right there. Ciel let out a
quiet shriek at the harsh sensation, before whirling around, flushed face all
pretty indignation, still crouching like a whore in the middle of the church in
broad daylight, having come in a carriage baring the Phantomhive crest.

Sebastian had no time for his anger, only quickly mounting sexual frustration
and the beginnings of a headache.
 
He picked Ciel up one handed, and grabbed at their clothes with the other,
before darting for the confessional across the room. Ciel was beating at his
back with tiny angry fists, and as the dark curtain slid shut Sebastian let his
master tumble untidily to the floor. His rumpled dress pooled around him, like
flowers petals. It was terribly appealing.

“Sebastian!” Ciel whispered harshly, and Sebastian shushed him, which made him
flounder impotent with rage, face sweaty, hair mussed, shoeless, and dress
tenting provocatively in the front where he was still hard and wanting. “What-
!”

“Someone was coming. They still are. Hush.”

“Yes, me.” Ciel hissed, but he quieted, leaning his head against the wall and
looking at Sebastian with cool eyes. Sebastian paid him no mind. He stood
frozen listening to the priest walk up the aisle, and prayed he grabbed
everything, the shoes, his coat, his watch, and the underwear. Did he grab the
underwear? He couldn’t feel them in his pocket just the feeling of small hands
wrapping around his cock-

His eyes flew back to Ciel who looked pleased with himself, as he maneuvered
Sebastian into him where he was standing, ass out, heels placed back on dainty
feet to make him tall enough. The movement was practiced, and Sebastian
swallowed, and cursing when he felt the head of him sink slowly into Ciel,
catching on the rim, before pushing in steadily.

“Shhh.” Ciel whispered and his eyes were vicious at the sign of his weakness
and want, and yes, Sebastian loved him pretty and bound in lace, but vicious
and bloodied with others pain was how he first met him, and how he always loved
him best. “You have to be quiet.”

Sebastian stretched arms over him, pinning him in, hips already thrusting into
the tight heat helplessly, and he buried his face into the warm arch of Ciel’s
neck, his breath sticky and hot across the sensitive skin. He felt him shake.
He was so close. So close.
Ciel tugged one of his hands down, and then whined, low and quiet in his
throat, eyes sliding shut as Sebastian worked his cock in short jerky pulls,
his movements rough with the rush of his own impending release, fingers made
stupid with pleasure. “God, Sebastian, please. Please, please, please,
Sebastian-“

His voice was high, neither male nor female only pure rasping need, and
Sebastian shivered at the sound. In moments like that, Ciel was so close to the
rush of his soul, the smell poured from his skin like a perfume.

“Is that an order?” And Ciel let out a choked gasp at the words, thick sticky
release painting the wall, and dripping from Sebastian’s hand. His muscles
contracted painfully tight, sucking him in and Sebastian let his release take
him with a low groan. He could dimly hear Ciel crying out as he fucked into him
roughly, spending himself far inside of the young boy.

He pulled back after a long moment panting, and he could feel Ciel trembling
slightly, his arms, and legs shaking under him. Pulling back, Sebastian was
suddenly worried he’d actually hurt him, that he’d-
Ciel turned to look at him, eyes wide with anger, mouth a thin line.

“Sebastian!” He hissed, an angry kitten all glowing eyes and raised fur. “You
came inside of me, and I don’t have any underwear! Sebast- SEBASTIAN. I order
you to stop laughing! You-!”

Somewhere in the background church bells tolled.
End Notes
     Repent your sins. Or submit a request.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
