Title: Tit for Tat
Pairing: Ciel/Sebastian
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Er...sex?
Summary: What else are cold winter mornings for...?
Ramblings: I'm a noob to Kuroshitsuji fanfiction, BE GENTLE WITH ME!

Spidery frost webbed across arched windows like wintery moss. There was a scent in the air akin to sweet rot, the flowers standing steadfast in the open window curdling and shrivelling in the morning chill. The Phantomhive Mansion hibernated beneath a quilt of snow, creaking sleepily beneath the weight of age. Beyond the rabid caw of retreating birds, lifted on the wind like casual whispers, was the distant litany of a boy tumbling over the cusp of childhood and relishing the thrill like the dirty little secret it was.

The wardrobe shuddered and thudded, fine mahogany steamed with the heat of sex and want, enduring the onslaught of passionate bodies with stoic resolve. Long pale fingers almost skeletal knotted into silken black and fiercely yanked, hip bones jutting perversely when a single white fang pierced sensitive skin. Ciel sank forwards and cried with guttural glee, fists clenching for the foolhardy and involuntary admission that he was enjoying this. Sebastian's muffled chuckle thrummed like rain on rooftops, Ciel's nose managing its customary wrinkled sneer. Irritated, hot, damp with sweat, frantic, demanding fingers left flaming red whelps in perfectly sculpted shoulders to return the painful favour, Sebastian looking up at his young master in amusement, utterly nonplussed.

When Ciel slipped from between cum-stained lips Sebastian rose, a predatory adder with his tongue dancing over dirty, swollen pink. "Something the matter, young master?" he said, grasping a delicate white-rose hand to lift to his lips. Ciel snatched it away, panting, daring not look down at his twitching shame. Better to pretend his red silk trousers weren't bunched around his ankles, his rear red-raw like the smacked bottom of a child where it had spread repeatedly and obscenely against the wardrobe door. Nor did he dare glance in the dress mirror stood opposite where he would see the reflection of pastel pink cheeks and a forehead dappled with sweat and soft hair that belied nothing.

The room was in disarray, bedraggled sheets of old lovers hanging listlessly, draped across a carpet red like spilt rubies. Undergarments draped provocatively over a chair, sullied gloves curled like snakes on the dresser, pretty boots kicked off with furious insistence to land gracelessly beside the bed. If Ciel hadn't been standing in all his glory before his butler, the state of his room would have made him flush.

"You bit me," he growled, Sebastian's twitching smirk forcing rage up his throat like vomit. He dragged his sleeve across his mouth in mock disgust.

"You pulled my hair, young master," Sebastian said, thin eyebrow a challenging quirk. He idly played with the hem of his gloves, tugging and smoothing carefully until he discovered the sticky evidence of Ciel's passion on the tip of his index finger and swept it clean like a cat preening fur. His eyes beckoned a retort, flame-like flickering in snow glistened sunshine. Ciel's chest expanded angrily. He swept down to yank his trousers up, but Sebastian snatched away his hand, sliding a single, warm digit into his mouth. Momentarily stunned, Ciel felt the swarm of arousal in his belly and caught his breath, watching teeth scrape deliciously over moist skin. When he tried to tug away, Sebastian huffed, stepping forward to force Ciel back against the wardrobe door. As his head lolled, fingers slid over a pulse flickering frantically to grasp Ciel's throat and squeeze ever so gently.

"You are impossible," he croaked, eyes drooping. "I asked you to do one simple thing..."

"And you are a hypocrite," Sebastian replied, clever fingers trickling down his stomach like hot syrup, grasping the neglected little thing below that was eager for attention, though its master would deny it. "You call me to your room so early when you are perfectly aware I am going about my morning duties and demand I deal with your little problem. Forgive me, but the provocation was not mine, hm?"

Ciel looked sour, squeezing his eyes shut to hide it. "I am not 'little'. Just get on with it," he rasped, stomach filled with sticky warmth, hot toddy on icy nights. Sebastian leaned down, tongue and teeth feasting on a single fleshy ear, listening to the distant throb- throb of blood beating wildly against his skull, body tense with the expectation of satisfaction. There was no fooling a demon.

"Get on with what, pray tell?" he said, voice dulcet, a melodious trickling scale.

"Sebastian," Ciel groaned in pleasured agony, toes curling in steel-heeled boots. Sebastian merely grinned, teeth pearl against his crow-black uniform. He stood back a moment, fiery eyes devouring every inch of boyish skin, all smooth curves and light tones, the beginning of dark hair beneath a quivering navel. A boy toppling into the adult world, only to tentatively retreat from time to time. "Sebastian!"

Sebastian's laughter was oil set alight, sudden and harsh and furious. He knelt before his master, teasing the soft skin of protruding hips, thumbs rolling over bone beneath skin stretched tight like elastic. Ciel sank his teeth into his bottom lip to cling to the cry clawing its way free, Sebastian's lips pushing ghostly kisses to his abdomen, every jerk and twitch an accomplishment. As he took him into his mouth again Ciel sank back, relief like ice against burns, closer, closer, closer. He was careful to control his hands this time, fingers curling against solid wood.

"You are," Sebastian said softly as he pulled back to breath, looking Ciel over like a puzzle to be solved, "quite the gem, young master."

Ciel wanted to fall victim to the trappings of compliments, wanted to feel wanted, desired, sexual. Like a man capable of anything, even dominating a wilful demon contracted to protect him at any cost. But he was Earl Ciel Phantomhive. He could not. He would not. Sebastian was playing with him, insulting him... "Shut up," he hissed instead, fingers once more winding into black hair, locking tightly at the tip of Sebastian's spine. "I am not a woman. Do not flatter me."

Sebastian's glance was one of withering disobedience. "Would you prefer I insult you?" he asked, tongue deft as it traced leafy patterns along his thigh. "I can do that just as aptly."

"I would prefer you be quiet!" Ciel snapped, tugging his hair rather hard. Sebastian gave him a look to melt iron, but it did little to cease his master's insistence. He was enjoying himself as it stood, reducing the little earl to a furious, withering mass, all the more delectable for his curious resistance. Though that resistance was faltering as it often did, Ciel panting frantically, unaware of the frightful show he was making of himself in front of his butler as he drew nearer to completion. It could be regretted later, Ciel fleetingly decided, arching, a trapped animal pathetically pleading for the end.

"A-ah...a-ah, Sebastian!" His cry was restrained, sweat dripping from his nose. The room was a hot cavern, sweltering walls, scent of sex smothering the air. Close, close, closer... "I-I'm c-com--"

Sebastian pulled away suddenly, Ciel gasping in surprise, grabbing the side wall of the wardrobe to steady himself. Sebastian dusted off his hands and looked around the room, clucking his tongue. "It looks as though you have made more work for me, young master," he said woefully, bending down to pick up a discarded sock. "You are messy. Perhaps I should teach you the value of orderliness."

"W-what?! S-Sebastian, w-where are you going?" Ciel stammered, weight carried by the wardrobe, its only a protest being the faintest creak. He looked like a dishevelled whore, hair like wailing banshees, "Forget my room, you have not finished yet!"

Sebastian only smiled, nonchalantly examining gloved fingers. "I did as you asked, young master," he said simply, caressing the polished door knob with dry delight, an array of clothes slung over his arm. He lifted his fingers to the light to check for dust, pleased to discover none. "You asked for me to pleasure you, did you not?"

Ciel whimpered, pained by this act of gross indecency. How dare Sebastian leave him this way?! "Sebastian--!"

Sebastian wagged his finger, "A noble is always cool and calm, young master. You should not go disgracing yourself now, losing yourself to pleasure. Whatever would the other servants think if they found out? Consider this a lesson, perhaps."

Ciel's glare as the door closed behind him could have sent thousands to their coffins. "Damnit, Sebastation," he whispered, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He bent to drag his trousers up, unsuccessfully attempting to fasten the tie that had been so deftly undone not long before. "I did not need a lesson! You had best make up for this later..."

I will came the light, drifting reply, amusement laced with dark promises. Oh, how I will.