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Ciel sat alone in his study, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, its warmth barely reaching him. His slender frame was hunched over a ledger, quill scratching faintly against parchment, though his eyes seemed distant, unfocused. The once-sharp angles of his face had softened, but not in a healthy way.. his cheeks were hollow, his skin paler than usual, and the tailored waistcoat he wore hung just a little too loosely on his frame.
Sebastian observed from the doorway, his eyes narrowing with concern. He had noticed the change in his master over the past weeks. Ciel’s appetite had waned, his portions left half-eaten, his frame shrinking with each passing day. It wasn’t merely a matter of aesthetics, Sebastian could sense the fragility creeping into Ciel’s body, the way his energy faltered, the way his once-commanding presence seemed to flicker. It stirred something in the demon. A hunger, yes, but not for Ciel’s soul.. not tonight.
Sebastian stepped forward, his shoes silent against the polished floor. “My lord,” he said, his voice smooth, “you’ve not eaten properly again today. Shall I prepare something for you?”
Ciel’s head snapped up, his single visible eye narrowing. “I’m not hungry, Sebastian,” he said curtly, returning his attention to the ledger. “There’s work to be done.”
Sebastian’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Work can wait, my lord. Your health, however, cannot.” He crossed the room, stopping just behind Ciel’s chair. His gloved hand rested lightly on the back of the seat. “You’ve been neglecting yourself. It displeases me to see you so… diminished.”
Ciel’s quill paused, ink pooling at the tip. He turned his head slightly, his expression full of irritation. “Diminished? Don’t be absurd. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Are you?” Sebastian’s voice was low. He leaned closer, breath brushing against Ciel’s ear. “Your body tells a different story, my lord. You’ve lost weight. Your strength is waning. I cannot allow that to continue.”
Ciel stiffened, his cheeks flushing faintly. “You’re overstepping, Sebastian,” he snapped. He pushed the ledger away, leaning back in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests. “If I say I’m not hungry, then I’m not hungry."
Sebastian’s eyes gleamed. “And if I say you will eat, my lord?” he murmured, his tone teasing yet firm. “You are my master, but I am your butler. It is my duty to ensure your well-being, is it not?”
Ciel’s lips parted, then closed, his gaze flickering away. He hated how Sebastian could read him so easily, how those eyes seemed to see through every defense he erected. “Fine,” he muttered at last. “Do what you will. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”
Sebastian’s smile widened. “Oh, I think you’ll find it quite pleasurable, my lord.”
The study was abandoned, Ciel finding himself in his bedroom, seated on the edge of his grand four-poster bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the heavy curtains drawn to keep out the chill of the night. A silver tray rested on the bedside table, laden with an array of delicate dishes: warm brioche with a golden crust, a small bowl of creamy soup fragrant with herbs, fresh strawberries glistening with a light dusting of sugar, and a cup of steaming chamomile tea. The scents mingled in the air, rich and inviting, but Ciel’s expression remained stubbornly neutral.
Sebastian stood before him, his gloves pristine despite the hours spent preparing the meal. He held a small plate with a slice of brioche, spread with a thin layer of honeyed butter. “Open your mouth, my lord,” he said softly.
Ciel’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, his eyes narrowing. “I can feed myself, Sebastian. I’m not a child.”
“Perhaps not,” Sebastian replied, his tone calm, “but you’ve proven you won’t do it properly. Allow me to assist you.” He knelt before Ciel, bringing the plate closer, the golden bread catching the candlelight. “Just one bite. For me.”
Ciel’s jaw tightened, but the warmth in Sebastian’s gaze made his resolve waver. He parted his lips reluctantly, and Sebastian gently pressed the brioche against them. The bread was soft, warm, the honeyed butter melting on his tongue, sweet and rich. Ciel chewed slowly, his eyes locked with Sebastian’s.
“Good,” Sebastian murmured, his voice a low hum of approval. He set the plate aside and picked up the bowl of soup, stirring it gently with a silver spoon. “Now, another.”
Ciel swallowed, his throat bobbing. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but there was no real venom in his words. He leaned forward slightly, allowing Sebastian to bring the spoon to his lips. The soup was velvety, savory with a hint of thyme, and it warmed him from the inside out. Sebastian’s movements were smooth as he fed Ciel, his eyes never leaving his master’s face.
The butler’s gloved fingers brushed against Ciel’s lips as he offered a strawberry, the fruit bursting with sweetness as Ciel bit into it. A drop of juice lingered at the corner of his mouth, and before Ciel could wipe it away, Sebastian’s thumb was there, catching it with a gentle swipe. The touch lingered, and Ciel’s breath hitched.
“Sebastian,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of you, my lord,” Sebastian replied, his voice low and intimate. He set the tray aside, his hands resting on Ciel’s knees, the fabric of his trousers soft beneath the butler’s gloves. “You’ve been neglecting yourself for too long. I intend to remedy that.”
Ciel’s heart pounded, his body suddenly hyper-aware of Sebastian’s closeness, the heat of his hands through the fabric. “This… isn’t just about food, is it?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Sebastian’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “Perhaps not,” he admitted, his hands sliding up Ciel’s thighs, slow and deliberate. “But it begins with care, does it not? Let me make you feel… whole again.”
Ciel’s breath caught, his body tensing under Sebastian’s touch. He wanted to protest, but the warmth in his chest, the ache in his core, betrayed him. He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
The butler’s hands moved higher, one resting on Ciel’s hip while the other slid beneath the waistband of his trousers, finding the soft skin of his lower abdomen. Ciel gasped, his head tipping back slightly as Sebastian’s fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, moving lower with each pass.
“Keep eating, my lord,” Sebastian murmured, his voice a low command as he picked up another strawberry, releasing the boys hip, holding it to Ciel’s lips. “You need your strength.”
Ciel’s cheeks burned, but he obeyed, parting his lips to take the fruit. As he chewed, Sebastian’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves between his legs. Ciel’s hips jerked, a soft moan escaping him as the butler’s touch grew firmer. The strawberry’s sweetness mingled with the heat pooling in his core, the sensations blending into something dizzying.
“Sebastian,” Ciel gasped, his hands gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white. “You—”
“Shh,” Sebastian soothed, his voice a purr. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against Ciel’s ear as his fingers continued their slow exploration. “Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”
Ciel’s body trembled, his thighs parting instinctively as Sebastian’s touch grew bolder, his gloved fingers slick with Ciel’s arousal. The butler fed him another bite, this time a piece of brioche, and Ciel’s moan was muffled by the bread, his body arching into Sebastian’s hand. The contrast of the rich, buttery taste and the pleasure between his legs was almost too much, his senses overwhelmed by the dual assault.
Sebastian’s own breath grew heavier, his eyes darkening as he watched Ciel unravel beneath him. The sight of his master, so vulnerable, stirred something deep within the demon. His free hand pressed against the front of his own trousers, a low groan escaping him as he felt the evidence of his own arousal, straining against the fabric.
“More,” Ciel whispered, his voice barely audible, his hips rocking against Sebastian’s hand. The butler obliged, his fingers moving faster, circling Ciel’s clitoris. Ciel’s moans grew louder, his body trembling as the pleasure built, coiling tighter and tighter in his core.
Sebastian fed him another strawberry, the juice staining Ciel’s lips red, and the sight was enough to push the butler closer to the edge. He pressed himself harder against his own hand, his movements subtle but desperate, his control fraying as Ciel’s pleasure consumed him. “You’re beautiful like this,” Sebastian murmured, his voice rough with need. “So perfect, my lord.”
Ciel’s head fell back, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure crested, a wave crashing over him. He cried out, his body shuddering as he came, his arousal coating Sebastian’s fingers. The sight, the sound, the feel of Ciel’s release pushed Sebastian over the edge, and he groaned, his own climax shuddering through him, staining the inside of his trousers.
For a moment, the room was silent save for their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the lingering sweetness of the meal. Sebastian withdrew his hand slowly, his touch gentle as he wiped his fingers on a handkerchief, his eyes never leaving Ciel’s flushed face.
“My lord,” he said softly, his voice warm. “You must eat more often. I cannot bear to see you waste away.”
Ciel’s eyes opened, still hazy with pleasure, and he managed a faint, breathless laugh. “If this is how you intend to feed me,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I might be persuaded.”
Sebastian’s smile was soft as he leaned in to press a kiss to Ciel’s forehead. “Then I shall make it my mission, my lord,” he murmured. “To ensure you are always… satisfied.”