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A child. A broken down boy. And a servant of hell. It’s comical really, when you get down to it. The demon never expected to be stuck here, serving a spoiled brat. But during their time together, he had little complaints. The role he played kept things relatively interesting. And his master, well, things could be worse. He had spent much time cultivating his soul, the boy was very promising, even from the beginning. And while the meal was no doubt going to be the finest quality, the beast can’t seem to dread the day arriving. Why? He had a faintest clue, but it seemed improbable, no matter what, that cannot be the reason. It’s simply not in his nature, at least, it shouldn't be.
The pair had finished settling in at the resort they were set to investigate some time ago, and the boy was left to perch himself on the master bed, much too big for him alone. The man, if you could even call him that, stood. Looking down at the shaking form of his tiny master. He sat, huddled into himself, looking much smaller than usual. Sebastian easily understood the reason for the child’s quivering state. It seemed as though the recent events have proved too much for him. And now, in a private setting, he allowed himself to feel. Although the boy wasn’t entirely alone, Sebastian wondered if he should make himself busy, leave the child to sulk. But there wasn’t much to do, as of now, all they could do was wait. And the man couldn't help but wonder why his master seemed so comfortable being vulnerable in front of him. It wasn't the first time, of course, but the question always arises during moments like this. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel warm at the realization each time. Damn it, he’s been around these creatures far too long. Well, Sebastian has grown rather fond of his little earl, no matter how hard he’s tried not to. Not much he could do now but attempt to justify his feelings. He enjoyed seeing the boy wracked with agony, desperation, and anger, simply because he knew that those emotions would only serve to push the child forward. Yes, what a driven little imp he was. There was no other reason he found pleasure in the boy’s suffering. And it was certainly not because he knew that he himself could come along and help lick the younger’s wounds. That would be preposterous.
The child seemed to be calming down. As the shaking lessoned, Sebastian observed a small hand shoot out from its previous position, which was wrapped around the boy’s middle. He watched as it dove beneath the pillow that sat behind the younger. What is he reaching for? His question was soon answered when a dagger emerged, gripped in nimble fingers. There is no danger. Sebastian quickly scanned the area. Perhaps he missed a threat while lost in his thoughts? It seemed not likely. So why is he holding the knife he kept for emergencies? The small boy locked eyes with the beast stood in front of him, as he turned the blade on himself. He quickly lifted it, and Sebastian watched with wide eyes as it plunged downwards, set for the younger’s stomach. The child’s eyes never left the devil, even as he swooped forwards, catching the boy’s hand before the spear could pierce his lord.
“Young master?” The boy narrowed his eyes as he struggled to get free from the demon’s ironclad grip. “I’m afraid I cannot allow you to perish just yet.” Sebastian wore a somber look.
“Unhand me, Sebastian.” He continued to struggle.
“What is the meaning of this? Do you truly wish to die?”
“You can eat my soul when I’m gone, correct?” The boy stared coldly at the other, observing the red glow in his eyes. “So this is no issue of yours.”
“Young master, the contract-”
“Forget the bloody contract!” He snapped. “All you care about is your meal, yes?”
Sebastian sat silent, puzzled, but his grip on the boy's hand never let up. He had never had a master attempt to end their contract early, if anything, they begged for an extension at the end.
“That’s what I thought.” The boy scoffed. “You can let go now Sebastian. You want nothing more from me.” He looked down, watching the devil’s grip, waiting for it to release. But it only got tighter, yet not enough to hurt him.
The beast had finally realized- no, accepted, the undeniable truth. This master is different. Much more than he had initially thought. As is he himself. It seemed he strayed from his fellow devils. As they would never do what he was about to. Not genuinely at least. A shame he couldn't say the same for himself, if only it was all just an act.
“Young master.” He finally broke the silence that had fallen over them. A gloved hand ushered the younger’s face upwards. “I want all of you.” He stared into those mismatched eyes, only finding confusion.
And so the beast continued, “I want the parts of you hidden behind your faux smile. Shown only to me, and the four walls of your bedroom back at your estate.”
The boy’s face fell to an unreadable expression, well, unreadable to anybody that wasn't Sebastian. And what he saw was a guarded, small child. Hopeful, yet afraid.
“The parts of your shattered heart, kept beating only by anger and fear.” The man sat closer to the small form, placing a gentle hand on his thin shoulder.
“I want your silence. And your screams paired with thrashing. Labored breaths and frantic pleas.” The boy wasn't sure if he was referring to the night he was summoned, or the panic attacks that followed. Either way, he grew embarrassed of Sebastian bringing up his vulnerable moments. But when he met the others' gaze, he could see no malice or mock etched on the beast’s features. Instead, a softer expression. One the boy had never seen look so genuine.
“My lord.” The man slipped the knife from the boy’s weakened grip with his free hand, and caressed his other shoulder. “I want your violence.” A squeeze to his flesh. “Your suicide mission that you are so determined to see through. The morbid fixation you hold towards the deaths of those who get in your way.” The child’s body shook harder at each word that fell from the man's lips. “You are stronger than the sharks in your water, my lord. The scars that won't heal will never have to define you.” A hand ran down the younger’s back, stopping briefly at his burn mark.
“I want the salt on your lips, and the tears in your star-like eyes.” A gloved finger brushed under his purple orb, where the seal that bound them together sat etched into him. The gesture had the child leaning into his touch, his walls crumbling.
“I want to watch as you climb over the obstacles in your path, persisting no matter how many times you fall and scrape your knees. I’ll watch the blood that spills over as you stand, and continue. And I wish to be there to patch you up when needed.” The man pulled the trembling child onto his lap.
“I want the nightmares that plague your dreams. The flashbacks of what they did to you in your paralyzed sleep.” The boy’s sharp, shaky inhale did little to mask the sob that ripped through him.
“I want you, ‘Ciel’. I want you no matter whose name you choose to wear.” The younger buried his face in the man’s chest.
“I am your lover.” A stroke to his ashy locks.
“And I am your jailor.”