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The music began, the room became hazy with candlelight, and all that Ciel could see was Sebastian.
The young earl's hand and shoulder were taken by fingers swathed in pure white, thin and delicate--so very refined and so very wrong. The gloves were hewn from silk, rather than cotton. The palms were smaller than his, not larger. The sweetness of floral perfume was suffocating instead of soothing, and the shimmer of golden locks were nothing like that of the lightless obsidian to which he was so accustomed to.
Ciel was supposed to enjoy this, holding his fianceé close, dancing with her before the eyes of his noble peers. And yet, his eyes did not meet Elizabeth's, they gazed past her, into the sanguine depths of his butler's own.
Sebastian hovered near the door to the balcony, watchful as ever despite the throng of couples intermittently blocking his master from view. As always, he was dressed in black, though his usual tailcoat was embellished with silk lapels and his waistcoat a rich merlot, given the elaborate event.
Ciel found it harder than usual to resist the magnetic pull between them, the simmer in their bond that begged him to flee, to return to his own manor and urge Sebastian into his bed. It was a nice thought, it would be far more rewarding than remaining here, in this stifling room, with these stuffy nobles and their many expectations of a proper gentleman. Though, considering the fact that his attraction to the man was well-hidden, it was merely that. A thought.
At the very least, this gala would be bearable if Sebastian were to stand in place of the girl in his arms. It was impossible, he knew that. Yet, longing tugged at his chest, turning his movements almost mechanical as he tried not to let his eagerness to finish the dance bleed into his actual performance. He offered a small bow to his cousin the moment it was finished, muttering a quick excuse of needing to greet a few associates before disappearing into the dispersing crowd.
Fortunately, he was able to blend in well enough to not be noticed as he drifted through one of the many doors leading onto the large balcony.
When Ciel arrived outside, beneath the starlit sky, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was alone. Blessedly alone. The music was muted now, no longer uncomfortably loud as it had been inside. Dare he say, it was pleasant from this distance. The lack of company certainly helped, of course, but the view did as well.
Lord Ashbury's garden was not as impressive as his own, but he would give the man some credit, neither his flora nor fauna were cared for and arranged by a demon. Still, the garden made for a splendid reprieve from dark coats, twirling skirts, and the cacophony of chatter that was so loud that he was certain even his servants would have a difficult time communicating over it.
Flitting between the small topiaries decorating the balcony's large urns, Ciel halted before the wrought-iron railing, looking to the cloudless sky as he soaked in the brief moment of peace. The wind caught in his hair, rustling the silvery strands alongside his azure coat, but it was not a nuisance; the coolness of the breeze was a pleasant change from the heat exuded by the bustling life within the large manor.
The young nobleman's hands pressed into the cold railing, leeching away the remaining heat from Elizabeth's prior hold on him. However, as he closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in the night air, he swore could almost feel another warmth upon them, a more welcomed one.
All throughout the day, that familiar touch had lingered. It had been there to slide his rings onto his fingers, to dress him in velvet fineries, to guide him through his violin lesson, and balance him as he stepped from the carriage. They had prepared his meals and pressed his newspaper, tied on his eyepatch and smoothed his coat, retaining their lengthy elegance even as Sebastian served him a glass of champagne upon their arrival at the event.
Sebastian had retreated from the heart of the excitement, as was expected of servants at such formal parties. Reluctantly, Ciel must confess to himself that he harbored some resentment toward his host for such an unknowing offense. Over half of the blame for his poor mood fell upon the distance between himself and his constant companion. He had grown used to having his demon by his side, a comfort in the unknown, a distraction from the more-monotonous evenings spent at such dull affairs. It certainly did no harm to have someone so easy on the eyes around to pass the time, either, but he would never admit that to the smug devil.
Nor would he ever own up to his fondness for the man.
Try as he might, it was a feeling he could not shake. It was uncomfortable, how warm his chest felt around Sebastian, how his heart rate increased, and how profoundly angry he became at the thought of another touching him, trying to steal him away with paltry attempts at flirting and flattery.
Women had been fawning over him all evening, and even a couple of men if his eyes did not betray him. Perhaps, they had too much to drink--it was unlikely that they would flirt with a butler before the eyes of high society had they not consumed a few too many champagne flutes.
Their handsy advances and batting lashes were met with no more than a polite smile and an offering of more drinks--that cheeky bastard was surely enjoying the way a few of them began to move more sluggishly, tripping over their own feet as they moved about the ballroom. It was likely that he only wished to amuse himself, as well as regale his master. Sebastian must have thought watching a few of his peers disgrace themselves so profoundly in his presence would please him.
The butler would not have been entirely false in that assumption.
Yet, with every accidental brush against the devil's chest, alongside every dance that Ciel himself was forced to endure for the sake of his overbearing betrothed, the heir found his temper flaring and his patience greatly lacking.
He puffed a sharp breath through his nose. The mere reminder of the trying night awaiting him inside was more than enough to dampen his mood the moment it had begun to ease.
With little warning, save for the near-silent creak of unoiled hinges, the door behind the earl slid open, shutting with only a muted swish of air. He did not turn to investigate the sound. He already knew who was approaching him long before that familiar click of polished oxfords began to grow nearer.
"Pardon the interruption, young master, but I do believe the party you are attending is taking place inside, not out here."
"Is it, now? How could I have ever missed the three hundred people lumbering about the halls?"
Sebastian chuckled. "I must say, I am astonished that you stayed for as long as you did before seeking out an escape. Your endurance has improved, my lord."
Ciel huffed softly, sparing a glance at his companion. As always, the man's Cheshire Cat smile remained, but strangely enough, there was an edge of tenderness in his tone.
"I was hoping that if I remained without a break, it would be acceptable to leave earlier. Unfortunately, that meant dancing."
Unable to keep his hands to himself, Sebastian reached out to straighten the boy's collar upon facing him fully. With great subtlety, the devil drank in the earl's features, all the way from his cutely furrowed brow to the exasperated downturn of his rosy lips. He noted the hints of fatigue beginning to pluck at Ciel's refined aura, how he fiddled with the hem of his sleeves as he often did wandering the city for midnight investigations in an attempt to fend off tiredness.
But he also noticed something far more interesting--endearing even: the nobleman's posture had relaxed ever so slightly in the time between slipping into the night air mostly-unseen, and now, as he stood beside his butler, alone beneath the stars and free from prying eyes.
Resisting the urge to point out that in his presence, his master's shoulders were no longer rigid, Sebastian made a small noise in the back of his throat and humored the boy. "I understand your urgency to return home, but is dancing really so terrible? I must say, I found the act rather entertaining in the days I spent as a duke."
With a small, disbelieving snort, Ciel's displeased expression melded into one of dulled curiosity. "You? A duke? I find that hard to believe. Now, a jester on the other hand…"
"You mean to offend, I'm sure. But I have been a great many things over the centuries, and I am not ashamed to claim a jester as one of them. After all, it was as a jester that I felled one of the most beloved kings. Or should I say… beloved by his maids."
"Ah, what Undertaker would give to have seen that," Ciel snickered, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Quite," Sebastian agreed, silent for a moment before leaning in to speak again. "However, my lord, you are avoiding my question."
With a roll of his visible eye, Ciel's mirth faded. "To me, dancing is that terrible. One dance, I could bear. But multiple dances, consecutive ones at that, is fairly grating when I do not enjoy it to begin with."
"Have you ever considered that your dance partner could play a role in your loathing?"
As if allowing himself to meet the demon's eyes would expose the truth, that he thought about dancing with Sebastian every time he attended a gala, Ciel began studying the gardens again. "I see no use in considering it. Lady Elizabeth is my fianceé, I am expected to dance with her."
Sebastian picked up on an underlying note in Ciel's voice, one that always became apparent when he spoke of the girl. A dash of fondness, perhaps for the time they once enjoyed together as children, a touch of resentment for his forced ties to her, and weariness.
The young lord always was a bit different from other noblemen his age, who would have given their right hand to be betrothed to a lady such as his cousin. The boy's wandering stares, aimed at no other than Sebastian himself, confirmed his suspicions.
How could Lady Elizabeth ever hope to compete? To woo the Phantomhive heir with promises of sweet flowers and even sweeter innocence, when it was the devil to whom his heart belonged? Ciel craved sinful embraces and an eternity of utter darkness, not the light in which most mortals resided.
"Dancing was invented by humans, and yet, it is one of the few joys that is shared among all realms. It would be a shame to pass on a pleasant experience simply because you have yet to find someone who makes it pleasant."
"Just what are you suggesting then, that I go back inside and steal away some nobleman's wife for an unwelcome waltz?"
"Not quite," Sebastian chuckled. "If you would be so kind as to give me your hand, my lord." Extending his own open palm, warm cinnamon eyes gazed into rich lapis, expectant and patient, yet rimmed with fond amusement.
Indulging the devil's request, as well as his own curiosity, Ciel accepted, allowing Sebastian to pull him closer as the music faded into a softer, more serene affair.
His right hand was clasped within Sebastian's, intricately intertwined, and gloves of sable and white were stark against one another--like marble chess pieces, or the fallen feathers of doves and crows. His left palm rested atop Sebastian's bicep, his shoulder warm with the devil's touch. And with a small, encouraging grin, Sebastian took the first step.
At the beginning, Ciel counted the steps in his head, from one to four with every shift of rhythm. However, he soon lost count, and all thought of tempo and proper step sequences slipped his mind. This was not the complicated waltz that Ciel had come to loathe so much, it was a foxtrot. Soothing instead of stressful. Slow and intimate, a dance the boy would never dream of indulging his fianceé in. With Sebastian, it felt… right.
The lights from the manor seemed so dull now, replaced by the natural glow of the moon and the luminescence of Sebastian's eyes. Ciel was captured by them, unable to tear his own from those mesmerizing rubies as he was led into the first turn.
For the first time, it was effortless. He wasn't uncomfortable, stumbling over his own feet, nor those of his cousin or instructor. He felt like he was gliding, like a bird riding the breeze--without fear of falling, for the arms securing him were unfaltering.
They did not speak, did not break the connection between them, but Sebastian knew that words were unneeded. He had seen this shine in his master's expression before, rare as it was. Whether the boy realized it or not, he only ever came alive this way for his butler, and truth be told, Sebastian shared the sentiment. Ciel's body fit alongside his as if he was made for the him, swaying and stepping in perfect synchronisation to the soft piano and violin echoing from inside the manor.
The demon was enamored, unable to turn his focus to words if he tried.
The devil's senses were aflame. His master was so close, so tempting and warm, and smelling of rich bergamot and vetiver. His skin tingled, desire attempting to break free from flesh and bone, to wrap around the earl and never release him, to rut into him and claim him here and now, on this chilly balcony that was scarcely hidden from view.
He dared not release such a fervent craving. Should they be seen, the night would end in bloodshed, and his master's reputation would certainly suffer should too many offenders witness such a scene.
But he couldn't deny his yearning, not when mismatched eyes became partially lidded, clouded in their own reluctant craving as a small tongue darted out to moisten the boy's lips. Pushing down the lust thrumming in his veins, Sebastian ducked his head, and finally pressed his lips to Ciel's.
The devil inhaled Ciel’s surprised sound, holding him captive with teeth and tongue and the softest meld of pining lips. His master all but stumbled into him, unable to keep pace between his feet and unpractised lips.
Sebastian stilled as to not frustrate the boy, pulling him flush against his chest. The earl’s fists balled into the fabric at the back of Sebastian’s tailcoat, holding him as securely as his own hands held the boy’s cheeks.
When they parted–too soon, in Sebastian’s opinion–their foreheads pressed together. Their hands returned to their rightful dance positions, but they did not retain the distance in which a proper foxtrot demanded. They remained close, their shared warmth combining as they began to sway once more.
Both knew they could not stay like this for much longer, not here. No matter how much they both craved it. And so, as the music reached its crescendo and then began to quiet, Sebastian guided Ciel into a languid spin, followed by a partial turn. How he dreaded the second when the music would stop.
“How long have you known?” Ciel asked, his whispered query almost too quiet for Sebastian to hear.
But the devil did hear, and offered the earl a small, encouraging smile, free of wry amusement or smugness. “From the moment that your eyes began to linger, my lord,” Sebastian answered, brushing his lips along the earl’s brow. “Once we return to the estate, will you allow me another kiss?”
Ciel swallowed, clearing his throat to keep his voice steady rather than allowing it to tremble with the flurry of emotions budding beneath his calm facadé. Nerves, excitement, nearly-masked affection… And relief. “Allow another kiss? No, certainly not,” the young lord chastised, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I demand it.”
“I am pleased to hear that,” the butler crooned, his voice like honey and his movements as elegant as ever when he led them into a final step sequence before dipping them both into a low bow as the music reached its longing end.
For a moment, time felt as if it stopped. They gazed at one another, Sebastian’s hair brushing along Ciel’s cheeks as the midnight strands fell forward with the dance’s final move.
Then, as quickly as it ended, they could hear the idle chatter of the nobles begin again, and they were forced to right themselves and part from one another’s arms. But not before Sebastian took his master’s hand a final time, placing a small peck on his inner-wrist, just over his pulse, before taking a step back.
“I am afraid it is time to return inside, young master.”
“Indeed.” With disappointment etched into his features, Ciel conceded, walking toward the manor’s entrance with reluctance weighing down on him. But just before Sebastian could open the door for him, Ciel glanced over his shoulder once more. “When we return… I wish for another dance.”
“It would be my pleasure.”