A/N: Hello! I do really hope you will enjoy this fanfiction. I'm very, very excited for it and hopefully I can convey that well enough! All reviews, commentary or critique, are most appreciated.

Summer had finally come.

In the way the leaves blushed green or the foxgloves came into bloom. In the way that he could suddenly hear the starlings singing or the chaffinches chattering in the hedges. In the way the sun truly did feel warm, and for once, he found himself in awe of that dazzling sky.

The truth is, he'd never known the names of the flowers. Or the birds. Or much at all, really. These were all the things that Claude and the rest taught him, just pointing at the world around and giving it pointless labels. What's the use in knowing what bird makes what tune if you never plan to write anything down? It's not like he had anyone to talk to, either, about the foxgloves or the bluebells or the dark, red roses. Who had the time to listen? Who had the time to care?

But, he knew those labels now. And in the heated blur, he could remember the foxgloves, the leaves, and the chaffinches and starlings all reaching up to the sky. Everything was always reaching upwards, and for the first time, the very first time, Alois looked up with them.

This was the first summer he had in years.

The garden was his to roam, the mansion was his to own. He had been transformed from a poor slave child being fucked for his sins to a nobleman who would forever be seen to be above such things. He would become a tragic, mysterious figure in the public's eye, and bend and wrap it all around his little fingers. He would still, forevermore, have to cheat and lie and steal – but this time he would be earning medals and titles for it. This time, people would care.

At least, that was what the spider told him. But he didn't care much for titles. Or medals. Or gold and riches and every spoil on earth. All of it was terribly, terribly boring.

But not the spider. No, spiders were terribly, terribly interesting. His name was Claude Faustus, and he was currently making tea – playing the part of a butler soothing a grieving son. After all, today had been the day of his father's funeral. But it had been such a lovely day. Even the poppies had been in bloom, though it should have been much too late for them. How could anyone really be sad?

Of course, Alois had cried. Cried every little bit of his soul right out. There'd be none left for his precious spider to drink, he was sure of it.

"So, how was my acting?" He asked, leaning back into his seat as his newly-appointed butler brought over the teacup.

"Extraordinary, Your Highness," Claude said.

"Maybe I should just give up this little lark. Tell them they've all been fooled. Use my infamy to back my acting career." Alois the tea being poured, listened to the gurgling glugs. Everything sounded like it had colour… like he'd just emerged from the ocean, salt still in his mouth, lungs expanding, every single new moment precious, for the while he still remembered the water, anyway. It made him laugh, giggle, even. "Would you stick by me, even then, Claude?"

"My contract is not tied to wealth or to position. It is tied only to you. No matter how far you fall, or how far you run, I will always be there to catch you." His voice was like gravel. Much too rough for the little poems he was spinning. His face, too, showed nothing. He was just a vast emptiness, making noise.

But he was an emptiness who had made Alois whole.

And even though Alois could not really believe what he was saying (too surreal was it to imagine anything staying interested in him for that long), he trusted him enough not to show his distrust. Knotting up his fingers, he smiled and said, "Good, you'll be such a good little pet." Tilting his head, his eyes slid into slits. "Because that's all you are, aren't you Claude? A pet. Like little yapping doggie, doing anything I say. Right?"

"Not a dog," Claude said, adjusting his glasses.

"A spider," Alois laughed. "I know. I know very well that you're a spider. Are you really that obsessed?"

"There is every reason to be. I find them quite beautiful." He paused. "And they are the symbol of the Trancy family."

Alois was amused by this, twisting his hand under his chin, staring down at his tea. "Do you really think I wouldn't know that by now?" He reached out the free hand, taking the cup by the handle. "And don't you think I am the most beautiful spider of them all?"

Claude had no response to this, so Alois sipped his tea and quietly wondered if it was insolence that a butler would not step up to every opportunity to compliment his master.

"I think I am. The single most alluring, enticing spider the world will ever see." Another sip of tea, so warm and hot in his mouth. "Spinning an enchanted web, and all I have to do is wriggle my legs a little bit or make tears squeeze out of my eyes. It's easy, really."

"Yes."

So few words.

"Did you know…" Alois laughed. "I read this in the library…" Eyes rolled back, laughter spilling out more desperately. "Did you know that some spiders will eat their mates after sex?" He was whooping now, laughing brilliantly. "Just rip of their heads! Pop!"

The last of his laughter wheezed out of him as he looked up again at Claude, smirking. "So… we got it all wrong!" He slammed the teacup down, tea dribbling onto the saucer. "I should have been the one to kill him!" His fingers writhed on his lap, his legs shuffling over one another. "Or you should have slept with him, Claude."

No reaction. Nothing. Not even a twitch of the lip in disgust. Just eyes, eternally gold.

"Or perhaps we are just two parts of one spider. Each incomplete without the other," Alois said, beaming. "That would be such a nice way to put it, wouldn't it?"

"Would you really call him your mate?" Claude said, dragging venom into the air.

To this, Alois went very quiet. A weakness, perhaps. A gaping wound exposed.

"No." Alois said, voice wavering. "No, he wasn't my mate. Or my father." He twitched in his seat. "He was my prey. My victim, ensnared in my web. What a stupid waste he was, though. You didn't even get to taste his juices. We just ripped him to pieces." He lifted his head. "He was just a toy, then. Spiders really do love to play."

For whatever reason, this made Claude smile. And on a face so usually dead, it made Alois blink twice – like the shutter of a camera, trying to freeze the image forever. "Yes. We can enjoy ourselves."

Alois smiled.

"I've had a long day." Standing, he spread his arms out towards his butler, yawning. "I want to go to bed." A pause. "Well, come on then. Hurry up and carry me."

"Yes, your Highness."

Swept through infinite corridors, Claude made his way back to the master bedroom. The room where it all began. The room where they first met, only a week ago. How strange. How very strange everything was.

And when he put him on the bed, the same bed where he had forged his kingdom, Alois leaned back – stuck his legs out, and waited to be undressed.

"Do you remember the first time you did this?" Alois frowned, watching as the lace around his boots was carefully undone, ribbons falling into Claude's quick and nimble hands. "The way I screamed at you, kicked you in the face?"

Off went one boot.

"Yes. Though it was quite a weak kick."

"Aww. I'm glad. I wouldn't have wanted to hurt you. You were only doing your job, after all." Alois smirked. A gasp of air, and off slid the other boot.

"Now, I don't mind you undressing me at all. It's almost like we're bedfellows."

Claude was stripping him of his socks, letting his little toes wriggle free. He made no response to this, so Alois made up whatever he wanted.

"Then again, I suppose I should be used to getting naked in front of strangers." Alois tossed his head back, staring at the ceiling. "God knows how many of his servants saw my dick." He fluttered his eyelids, glancing back down at Claude. "But they're all dead now, aren't they?"

"As you ordered, Your Highness. All of them were disposed of, except for the children." Claude was attacking the buttons of his vest, now. Ribbons and lace and flesh slowly, eventually, undone and exposed.

"I believe I told you to kill them all." Alois smirked. "And if I hadn't changed my mind as I heard you approach the cellars, you would have, wouldn't you?" Rolling his shoulders, he helped his shirt to slide down his back. "All those children, you would have killed each one without a second thought."

"I follow only what orders you give me." Claude folded the shirt, placing it by his side. He moved towards the buttons on Alois' shorts. "If you had told me to, then yes. I would have killed each one without a thought at all."

One button undone. Another. Pop pop pop. Like opening a virgin's chastity belt.

"Then, you know Claude." Alois leaned back, curling his toes. "You must be the only person in the world to have seen my dick and lived." He tilted his head. "Aren't you lucky?"

Claude (rather obviously) diverted his gaze, pulling down his shorts.

"Humans have strange customs of decency." He arose, moving over to the wardrobe. After a moment, he pulled out Alois' nightgown, stopping to stare at the young boy. "Your nakedness arouses nothing in me." He tilted his head. "Strange, how much passion flesh can inspire."

Alois lifted his arms, and Claude pulled it down over his head.

"I am much more interested," Claude said as he took Alois' hand into his own, placing his thumb on the red ring. "In the passion that beats inside you."

His eyes were gold.

So eternally gold.

Like the sun had finally come out.

Alois' face cracked into a smile.

"You're strange." He sighed, yawning again and breaking his hand away from his. Noticing Claude already pulling back the covers on the other side, Alois slid beneath them.

"Tomorrow," Claude said, diffusing tension, moving away from any intimacy. "I will transform this room. Red into purple, nightmares into sweet dreams, hell into a heaven on earth. That's what makes a Trancy butler."

No more would he have to look at that awful painting. At those awful curtains. At this room, this violent, bloody, circling room. It was his. It was his now. Now, now, when he stared at the ceiling, at the cracks and shadows that looked like dragons in the night – now he would see only gold. "It's really true, isn't it?"

"What is, master?"

"That this is mine. I really am the Earl Trancy now, aren't I?" Tears stung in his eyes. He wrinkled them, squeezing them out. "I'm not Jim Macken. I'm Alois, right? Alois Trancy." He choked, sobbed, covering his mouth and biting into his hand as he let out a low whine.

"… Yes. Jim Macken is no more. You will forever be Alois Trancy, the son of an Earl. All his land, possessions and material things are yours." Claude seemed unsure of what to do, staring at the child's red face and long, horrible sobs.

"And... instead of sending an angel to do this, God gave me you." Alois choked a bit, sitting up and coughing into his hand. To this, Claude finally reacted, moving to his master's side and placing his hands on his back.

"God did not send me." He moved his arms up and down, trying to imitate mothers soothing their children. At least the coughing seemed to be stopping. "No, master. You chose me. You are the one who weaved this entire web. It was not my plan to wear the dead Alois' robes. It was not my plan to supplant him. That was you, and that is exactly what makes you so enticing, your Highness."

A few more moments of rubbing, a few more moments of quiet weeping. Claude paid careful attention to the way his shoulders shifted, to the way his breathing hitched and his entire body would spasm, the way his face dripped from every orifice. Crying was not something he had ever had the opportunity to do, and very rarely had he ever observed it. It was terribly strange.

Finally calming down enough, he went to fetch a handkerchief – dabbing Alois' face and wiping away the salt and drool and snot. He protested, a little, but when he was done he was smiling again, eyes full of trust.

"Thank you, Claude."

"Butlers are not creatures to be thanked." He placed a hand on his chest, bowing slightly.
Alois considered this, before narrowing his eyes and smirking. "Much less demons."

Claude nodded at this, a trace of a smile on his face.

"Before you go…" Alois said, voice a little worn. "Will you sing something to me?"

… "Of course, Your Highness. Is there anything you request?"

Alois snuggled down into the sheets, pulling them up to his neck and rolling on his side. "The one about the spider. In the drain."

Claude paused, utterly bemused by the level of childishness in his request. Finally smirking, he propped himself down on one knee – close enough so that Alois could still see. Lifting his hands, he began to mime Incy Wincy's assent, and finally began to sing a low tone, "Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the waterspout."

Alois smiled, very genuinely, and snuggled deeper into the bed as he watched Claude's hands and the shadows playing on the walls.

"Down came the rain…" His fingers wriggled and writhed over each other. "And washed the spider out."

Alois gasped, mockingly, catching Claude's eye for a moment.

"Out came the sun, and dried up all the rain."

Finally, Alois slid himself forward from the bed, reaching out his fingers and placing against the edges of Claude's. Together, they let their their fingers crawl upwards, like some slow-paced, plodding spider-thing. "And Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the spout again."

Laughing, Alois threw himself back down into the bed, staring at his hand.

"I think I can sleep, now."

Smiling, he tilted his head back over to Claude. "You can go now. Practice your singing."

A hand on his chest. A bow.

"Yes. Your highness."

Those words, in that tone, clattered like nails on the floor. Alois did his best to avoid standing on them, forcing his smile.

"Goodnight."

And with that, Claude slipped out of the room – leaving only a few candles to burn the darkness.

Alois pulled the covers back up, rolling back on his side and staring again at the hand he'd used to fingerplay with Claude.

Incy Wincy Spider.

Ha.

Hahahahah.