Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction ❯ Commodities ❯ Chapter 1: Then, Young Master ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Commodities

Author: Ari Rue

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters from the manga or anime series. I am not affiliated with the creators or producers of said manga or anime. Any characters not pertaining to the anime or manga, Kuroshitsuji, are mine. If you would like to take them out to play, please ask.

Author Notes: This story contains spoilers from the end of Kuroshitsuji. If you're sensitive to that, please don't read it. I have read and re-read this piece, though I am flying blind without a beta reader. If I missed something vital, or something is just plain “bad”, let me know. This is my first real piece in several YEARS, so there may be a bit of rust in my style. That's a big part of why I'm writing this… to work on the rust. Well, without further procrastination, hesitation, or insulation, I present to you: Commodities.

Commodities: Chapter 1

Even as Sebastian descended upon him, there was a passing hope that the demon would not take his dues. Ciel Phantomhive was not so foolish as to expect it, but there was a part of him that desperately wanted it to be so. He wanted to know that there had been more than just the contract holding Sebastian to him, that the reason his butler protected him so absolutely was because he cared about him. The reason he had attended his needs with such diligence was he wanted him to be happy. He did not want to know, in his last moments, that every time he had been carried to safety was a mere formality of obligation.

He did not want to know that whatever intimate conversations they had shared were nothing more than indulgences given to Ciel, ultimately in exchange for his soul. He just didn't want it to be true, even when his logical self calmly reminded him that Sebastian was not a being of emotional attachment. His butler was ancient and immortal, witness to countless wars and peaceful lulls in human history. He had aided and hindered many people in his time, never caring for any of them, always keeping their contract cut and dry. It was how he survived, it was his nature. For him to save a bitter young boy, who had been foolish enough to offer his soul freely but three years ago as material to trade, was a pitiful expectation.

Ciel looked into Sebastian's eyes. They were the color of earthen garnets, dark and clear, just red enough to hint that something was different about the man who owned them. Some would simply pass off the color as exotic but Ciel knew it was much more than that. Despite that, Ciel could call them human- could call him human with those eyes.

He watched in silence as Sebastian tugged one white glove off with his teeth, letting it fall to the ground. It was like that glove was the servitude he was ending, discarded easily. When he knelt down and touched a warm hand to Ciel's face, it was a touch of dominance as much as a comforting gesture. Ciel could feel it, the hunger behind the touch, the desire to claim his payment and end the contract. His heart sank a farther as the exceptionally small sliver of hope evaporated like lace touched by fire.

He didn't know if he regretted his pact with the demon. His life had been Hell on Earth after the death of his parents, so could the real Hell be worse? Or if Sebastian devoured his soul completely, would he even go to Hell, or would he just cease to be? If it was the latter, would he miss himself? He guessed not as paradoxically he wouldn't know of his own inexistence.

He felt Sebastian's fingers slide beneath the patch covering his eye, loosening it enough to pull the simple bow from the back. Ciel could feel it drop away and land quietly on the ground by his feet. It was almost an erotic kind of exposure, even though the piece removed was so small. It showed his mark, the demonic contract etched into his right eye. It was a guilty brand of damnation upon him and though he had initiated the contract, he felt strange with it in the open.

Sebastian's fingers ran through his hair. It was not quite a loving gesture, but Ciel leaned into it anyway. Who could love him now anyway? It was better to embrace the feeling than to deny the touch. He would be dead soon, it would be the last thing he felt with this body.

Even as a demon, Sebastian was not unkind to his former master. He did not mock the foolishness of trading his soul for revenge or frighten him with the details of what was to come. He just touched him in a soft goodbye, as he knew Ciel could appreciate, even if the young earl would never have directly asked him to. He was adept at these partings and though with contracts past he had been less cordial, less understanding. He knew he would be enough victims to come who were more deserving than Ciel was of harsh treatment at their end. He could let his young master enter his end peacefully, though the boy had asked for pain.

Ciel did not turn away as Sebastian's pupils went to cat-like slits in predatory anticipation. He wouldn't stiffen, wouldn't show fear now. He would meet his chosen fate with his eyes open; looking into the face of the demon who had been his constant companion after the world fell around him. It was almost like looking at family. That's what people wanted, right? To be able to see their loved ones before they died? Ciel knew this was not anything close to the normal circumstances people talked about, but then, he was very far from normal. He could almost say he was fairly far from human all together. Except that ugly tug in his mind that was begging Sebastian to save him, release him, love him- it didn't matter, just anything to ease his failing heart. That was purely human.

“Then… Young Master.” Sebastian breathed, leaning in eagerly.

Ciel could feel the demon's mouth against his neck. He could feel the heat off Sebastian's body as his mouth wandered seductively from below his ear to the nape, his Cheshire grin widening and parting to allow his razor sharp teeth to graze the soft skin of his shoulder. His slow ministrations, rather than making the transition easier, only allowed fear to find a foothold in his chest.

Sebastian slowly moved his hands to Ciel's tie, deftly unknotting the dark silken cord. It was like everything was playing backwards in a way. The man who had dressed him every morning was now in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding his coat off with equally practiced ease.

Ciel knew it was supposed to hurt, Sebastian had told him so plainly that it would. So where was it? Panic began to rise ever so slowly, burning away the simple fear into something worse. The will to live, the realization that it was completely done with crashed upon him like a winter wave on the English shore. He didn't want it to hurt. He could still feel Sebastian's mouth on him, his hands gently parting the edges of his shirt and moving beneath to touch the soft flesh of his sides. Everything still felt too real, “Sebas-“he began in a hoarse whisper.

Sebastian heard the quiet scuffle as Ciel balled up one of his fists against the bench involuntarily. He had hoped that he was able to keep the boy calm until he passed out, just go slow until sleep took him and the pain would be like that in a dream. The soft utterance of his name only proved it further. Ciel was going to struggle.

Sebastian moved swiftly to grab Ciel by the wrist, using his other hand to dig roughly into Ciel's thigh. The boy tried to raise his captured arm was Sebastian sank his teeth into the pliant skin of his shoulder. He could feel every muscle clench as he began to drain him.

“Sebastian!” Ciel cried out despite himself, trying to pull away. He wasn't going to cry, not now. It was so close to being over, wasn't it? Crying served no purpose now. But it began to hurt beyond that shoulder bite. Sebastian moved to his captured wrist, sinking his teeth there until Ciel could hear the bones break. “Se-Sebastian!”

It was all he could say, the name of his savior and his executioner. The name he had called so many times to come to his rescue, to bring him meals, to help him wherever he needed it. There was nothing else to say. He would not tell him to stop, he would not beg for his life- he couldn't do that after everything. But the name, it said enough, it begged for him. But it was a call for help that would go unanswered. At this Ciel finally closed his eyes. If he could just blackout then he wouldn't have to deal with any of these thoughts, these emotions. He could endure it the way he endured his captivity as a slave. When things went really bad, he could hold his breath and pressure his mind to darkness. He needed that now.

He felt Sebastian's fingers release his thigh and move to his throat, their strong and slender tips gripping his windpipe. He took a deep breath of air, then another. It was over now, all over. Oh God, why did he need to lose it like this? He had almost died bravely, as he had wanted to in his stoic way.

It was too late for that regret though, everything mercifully went black. In the dark, the pain continued, but he could no longer open his eyes to see or his mouth to speak. He couldn't move and in a way it felt like pain outside his body. He couldn't tell what was hurting; it was just blind pain washing over him at interval, sharp and lurid. Ciel didn't know how long it would take for his soul to be taken or how long the pain would last. But it showed no signs of stopping well after he had assumed it must. Cynically he told himself it didn't matter. He only had to go through it once.