
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2209689.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Michaelis/Ciel_Phantomhive
  Character:
      Sebastian_Michaelis, Ciel_Phantomhive
  Additional Tags:
      Oral_Sex, Dom/sub, Yaoi
  Series:
      Part 1 of Black_Butler:_Those_Things_Implied
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-27 Words: 2475
****** His Butler, Lustful ******
by BitterWhore
Summary
     It is bed time at the Phantomhive home - but when it becomes
     necessary for Sebastian to bathe his young master, one thing leads to
     another.
     Naturally.
Notes
     The Prequel to this, 'His Butler, Deflowerer' can be found here:
     http://archiveofourown.org/works/2216055
The room is pristine, as always. Nothing is out of place. Every decoration is
flawlessly chosen to work without any clashing with the color scheme. A single
small lamp on the table near the bed, primarily for reading purposes, even fits
in - though it had to be altered by hand to do so. The only thing that breaks
the perfection is motion, specifically the motion of the exquisite wooden door
opening. A young man enters, looking around for a moment before stepping far
enough in for his faithful butler to enter behind him. The tall, willowy butler
shuts the door.
While the young man in his lovely finery moves like someone who just needs to
lay down, the butler moves with a sort of smooth feline grace. There is no
wasted motion. Every single gesture, even down to his eye movements, serves a
purpose. He is checking the room, observing, seeing what might need to be done
in a flash so fast one with untrained eyes might not notice.
"Sebastian, I am going to bed. It has been far too stressful of a day," the
young man says, looking back at his butler. A portion of his dusty black hair
are in front of his eye patch, adding coverage to something very important
about his eye that he cannot often show the world.
"As you wish, young master," the butler says, approaching swiftly and kneeling
behind him. "Arms up, please. We must get you prepared for bed and if you will
not at least allow me to draw you a bath, then you must allow me to clean you
at least somewhat."
"I would expect no less. I did not intend to go to bed with the day's filth
still on my skin," the young master says derisively, keeping his eyes ahead.
His slender arms rise as his butler requested.
Sebastian takes a moment to think before tugging his gloves off carefully and
reaching over to set them aside near that wonderfully hand modified reading
lamp. Long fingered, elegant hands move around his young master then, working
at the buttons that need to be undone. Black fingernails that appear painted
catch the light. One who observes closely might note however that these nails
are not painted, but instead are black all on their own and the sheen that they
possess comes from careful care and buffing as well as a delightful clear coat.
The garment is opened, the coat in his colors, and then drawn off and set aside
on a chair. When the butler's lovely hands move around again, they pause at the
top of the young master's chest. While the butler savors the feeling of his
strong heart beating, the young master focuses on just how warm Sebastian's
hands always seem to be. They're so warm, like much of his body, that they
almost feel hot.
"Sebastian, you're lingering. Can you carry on please?" the young master asks
quietly, feeling heat blooming on his cheeks. Blushing is not something a
nobleman ought to do. It is highly inappropriate.
"My apologies, young master. I was just feeling your heart beat. It is so
interesting… how it rose while my hands were in place, becoming much faster,"
the butler says, wearing only a small, sly smile. His own hair is immaculate to
match but a much darker black - immaculate save for a few errant strands that
hang between his eyes. Right now, in this moment, he allows them to show the
true shifting red color that they ought to be and the pupil that is not unlike
a feline slit.
"Sebastian, my heart rate is not your concern. Undress me!" the young master
orders firmly, face reddening further.
"My apologies, my lord. Right away."
The shirt is removed with something like haste but lacking any sense of being
in a rush. It's as if Sebastian merely moved quickly because he wanted to, not
because of the orders. Nothing about the butler suggests any kind of a loss of
control - save of course for the hungry expression just barely visible on his
smooth, unmarked face.
For just a moment, the butler's warm hands pause as he runs them down the young
master's sides. There is the slave cult brand, a raised scar from some time
ago. He does not pause long enough for a reprimand, only long enough to lick
his lips before moving on.
The rest of his young master's garments are removed with efficiency, down even
to his socks and the small belts cinched above his calves put there to keep the
socks in place. Ciel does not wait. Once his body is completely bare, he steps
up to the bed to wait. Sebastian rises and vanishes through the door, returning
only moments later with a small cart.
Upon this cart, towels, a basin of water, a pair of wash cloths and a brush for
the young master's hair.
A towel is laid out on the bed and Ciel sits, silent, pensive.
His butler takes up a cloth, slowly dipping it in the water scented with oils
from roses and from white sage, and other scents that are proper and while
masculine somehow manage to be feminine as well.
"The water smells nice," the young master says, letting out a quiet sigh at the
hot water on the cloth. "My word, that feels good."
"I'm sure it does, young master. Please, do try to relax. You have no need to
keep your muscles tense. I am here, we are home, and you are safe without
question."
"Of course I am safe. I am always safe when you are here," Ciel mutters, face
reddening at the tone his butler used.
Sebastian, possessing of an unceasing amusement, says nothing to allow the
tension to build.
It is everything he possesses not to lean down to lick his young master's soft,
smooth skin. To run his long tongue over the branding scar, to add some more
pale scars to his young master's back. A myriad of the nearly invisible lines
can be seen there, the result of sharp nails doing what sharp nails do.
I want the pain, his young master told him. I want it as proof I lived a life
worth living. Spare me no agony.
His butler's natural response was, well…
Sebastian moves on from washing his young master's back and the outsides of his
thighs to his chest. He is face to face with his naked superior, focusing on
what he is doing. Of course, the butler is completely aware of Ciel's eye on
him.
"Oh dear, I nearly forgot," the butler murmurs, setting the cloth aside and
reaching behind his young master's head to untie his eyepatch. He sets it
aside, exposing the bright eye with the mark of the Faustian Contract upon it.
Neither one looks away from the other, neither breaks the gaze into each
other's eyes, until a moment after Sebastian brushes Ciel's hair aside.
"Sebastian, finish washing me. I am tired," Ciel nearly whispers, turning his
head aside.
"Are you feeling feverish, my lord? Your face is quite red. I could perhaps
prepare something for you, if nee-"
"Sebastian! Finish washing me!"
The demon smiles, showing his full hungry intent. The smile is a strange sort
of expression, inhuman almost in its flawlessness and dark and disturbing
insofar as it is a blatant show of intense desires. Those strange monstrous
eyes rove downward, peering between the young master's legs. Ciel is already
growing aroused, excited. Though he is not specifically well endowed, this much
is apparent with even a cursory glance. Of course, Sebastian expected this.
Make the young master blush, he knows, and a blush of a different kind will
shortly follow after. Blood is blood, and it does not lie when it goes where
the body wishes it to go.
Not wanting to keep the young master waiting any longer, Sebastian dampens the
cloth in the hot water once more and then trails it up his thigh, making the
young man gasp in shock. The cloth is gently pressed to the young master's
nearly throbbing hardness, and slowly but surely the butler begins to work it
up and down.
"S-Sebastian! M-Must you?" Ciel demands, glaring down at him with cheeks
positively ablaze with embarrassment.
"Must I what, my lord? I am merely ensuring that you are clean - every single
inch of you. Do you wish me to stop? I am no longer sure what you wish of me,"
Sebastian says, smirking evilly. "Give me an order, my master."
"W-What? Sebastian, you k-know-"
"I do not, my lord. Give me an order."
Ciel's face could not possibly get redder. His eyes could not get wider.
"S-Sebastian, p-please, don't do… don't do this!"
"Give me an order!" Sebastian says forcefully, raising his voice to match his
master's.
There's a moment of hesitation and then the bashfulness seems to break in Ciel
- at least, enough for him to do what he wishes in this moment. His small hands
lace into Sebastian's hair and he grips tight.
"Suck it, god damn it! Just… just suck it, you monster!" he shouts.
"God damn it indeed," Sebastian murmurs, allowing his young lord to force his
head down. For a moment he just remains there, lips pressed to the tip of his
master's small cock. The heat from the demon is intense, almost but not quite
matched by the heat of Ciel's arousal.
The scent of his young master's hardness makes him that much more desperate to
do what he must. His long tongue works out between his lips and runs from base
to tip, dragging a small whine like noise of desperation from the boy - a
shockingly feminine noise, all things considered.
The taste of Ciel's cock is all Sebastian can think about. Again and again he
licks from base to tip before pressing in lower and licking at the young
master's sack. More quiet whines sound, but for the moment the butler ignores
them because he is far too lost in his own pleasure. Beads of pre are weeping
from the tip now, wetting Sebastian's cheek and lips. Many kisses are planted
along Ciel's shaft, and the butler licks many more times until the hands in his
hair are gripping so tight a human would no doubt be in enough pain to be
irritated - but for this butler, the pain is just a source of added
satisfaction.
"Sebastian! I-I said suck it!" the boy half shouts, voice now high pitches and
girlish. He cannot keep his composure any longer, cannot pretend he isn't what
he knows he really is.
"As you wish," the butler murmurs, taking the very tip into his mouth and
circling it with his skillful tongue. The sensations prove to be nearly too
much for Ciel, making him whimper and moan with the intensity of the pleasure.
Tears, involuntary things brought on by over stimulation, run down his face.
Satisfied by the rapid, sharp breaths the boy draws, Sebastian takes his shaft
deeper and begins working with his hands. First, he takes a small moment to
sufficiently dampen a middle finger. One then moves up to press underneath the
boy's soft ass, and the other works gently and skillfully with his balls to add
even more stimulation.
That dampened middle finger slides easily into Ciel. There is no control now,
the boy's noises are shocked and loud. They are gasping, feminine moans of
pleasure. The noises are like music, the taste of the pre is nectar of the
gods. The pleasure, the raw energy of the boy, is like a drug. Sebastian does
one of the things he does best - he satisfies his young master. He will admit
this is different than any previous deal. This relationship, these relations,
have much more meaning than any one before.
What that means, he is not sure of - nor is he able to spare much thought to it
right now.
All he can think about is continuing to move up and down, swallowing his young
lord's pre, and working the finger inside of him to press to the boy's prostate
- and of course, the sounds that are now nearly screams of pleasure.
"S-Sebastian! I-I'm.. I can't… I can't last… I-I… Sebastian!" the boy cries,
voice highest yet - without a hint of strain, at that.
As if to urge him onward, Sebastian picks up the pace until he can feel the
boy's body tensing and his cock throbbing violently. He works his tongue then,
even as he moves, with inhuman speed and skill. Hot spurts of cum erupt from
his young master's tip. The demon allows it to fill his mouth and works the
finger inside, massaging his prostate and keeping the boy orgasming until his
body is trembling and every drop of cum has been milked free.
Then, and only then, does the butler pull back and swallow. With the taste
still on his lips, he darts up and kisses his young master. For a long moment,
they remain there, tongues pressing to each other, and then they part.
"Would you like your night clothes now, young master?" the butler asks calmly.
"N-No," Ceil replies instantly, voice still high. He doesn't meet the demon's
eyes. "You know what I want."
"Naturally."
The butler rises, walking across the room to an armoire no one else is allowed
to access. He opens it and draws from within a pair of soft panties and a
girl's nightgown. When he returns, his young master is cleaning himself up with
a dampened wash cloth. Sebastian allows him to finish before kneeling. Ciel
steps into the panties, his slowly softening cock fitting just barely due to
its small size. The nightgown is pulled on then, over his head, and he allows
the butler to lift him and lay him gently in bed.
"Will that be all, my young master?"
Ciel stares at him, one eye dark and the other so very unnaturally bright. For
a moment, silence.
"… stay with me, Sebastian," he orders, voice still holding its feminine tone.
"Take off your clothes and stay with me, in bed."
"As you wish."
And so the butler strips down quickly, setting his clothes aside in a neat
pile. The lights are turned off, save the bedside lamp. His body is lean, but
well muscles. Pale skin is in numerous places marked with scars that are almost
completely invisible but nonetheless are present if one were to get close and
look closer. He works himself into the bed, underneath the comforter and
blanket with his young lord. The small boy squirms, wiggling until he is
against his butler.
"Hold me."
Sebastian does so, holding his young master gently. One slender fingered hand
turn the lamp beside the bed off, casting them into darkness.
"… goodnight, Sebastian."
"Yes. Goodnight, my lord."
 
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