Sunday Six

Content Notes: This snippet has BDSM overtones, but is still safe for work.

Ciel leaned his cheek against the carriage window, watching rain splash the filthy cobblestones. After a morning spent dealing with Randall’s incompetence, he was more than ready to leave the crowded stench of London for his own, peaceful manor. He wanted tea, he decided, and something sweet, Sebastian’s notions of proper luncheons be damned. Trying to decide if he’d prefer a raspberry trifle or a repeat of that apple cake Sebastian had made him last week, he only vaguely paid attention as the carriage turned down a crowded street of shops. When it pulled to a stop, however, he turned his face from the window to meet Sebastian’s bland smile.

“My apologies, young master,” he said smoothly, already rising to open the carriage door. “The new collar I ordered for Pluto is ready, and we might as well collect it on our way home.”

Ciel sighed. Other earls, he knew, did not have to accompany their butlers on such routine tasks. But then, other households had more than one competent servant to run such errands. After the last kidnapping, Sebastian seemed hesitant to leave Ciel on his own for longer than necessary. Unconsciously, Ciel fingered the bruises on his risk and sighed. Standing, he let Sebastian help him out of the carriage, stepping into the shelter of the umbrella the demon had produced from some pocket of his tailcoat.

“Very well,” he said, as Sebastian guided him towards the shop door. “But I want something sweet with my afternoon tea. A trifle, I think. Raspberry and chocolate.”

It was a bargain, not an order, and Sebastian knew it, for he only murmured, “If the young master insists.” As they stepped into a shop smelling richly of leather, Ciel wondered if he would have preferred the order. He’d noticed before that Sebastian seemed to revel in receiving orders. His eyes always brightened, his smile going sharper, face rapt with anticipation. Ciel wondered, sometimes, if Sebastian felt the same rush of power and exhilaration that suffused their bond each time Ciel removed the eyepatch, commanded his demon to do his will. Lost in these thoughts, he idly browed the shop’s wares as Sebastian spoke to the shopkeeper.

That’s when he spied the collar. Black leather reinforced with steel underneath, but butter soft beneath his curious fingers. It was a beautiful collar, but too fine for Pluto. Too small, also, unless Pluto took human form. At the front of the store, Sebastian said something to the shopkeeper, his voice as smooth and dangerous as the collar under Ciel’s hands. All at once, Ciel imagined a hint of black leather peeking from Sebastian's starched shirt. Heat flooded his cheeks. He told himself firmly that the collar was nothing more than another dig at Sebastian. With his loathing of dogs, Sebastian would hate getting collared like one. But at the same time, Ciel felt himself squirm, insides going warm with a feeling he couldn't quite name. He swallowed, shifting, tugging at his shorts.