A/N: I wrote this all within two hours. I had a bad day, like, really bad… Like, I had a panic attack for no reason in the middle of class, while taking exams bad…. Yeah. I wrote this for some reason.

It's been sixty years. Sixty years of idiotic dances between even stupider people.

Ciel is sad to say that he was apart of such a fool's game.

He's felt more dead as of late, it seams, even since he became a demon. Being a demon, he laughs at the word, was nothing like he thought how it would go when he was human. Going day by day, looking for something, anything, to stop the boredom.

Sebastian had abandoned him in spirit long ago. It had been fun, at first, when he first realized that as a demon, an immortal being, he would rule over a being more powerful than his own… for eternity.

His idea to boss Sebastian around till the end of time didn't take any hardship for it to start. But the older demon sure did give him lip.

And so, after a while, Ciel got… bored.

Very bored.

He tried putting his main source of entertainment, which was once on his oh-so-loyal butler, into other means. He started with little things, like gardening, cooking, cleaning… servant stuff. Sebastian was clearly growing more than just a grudge at the imp, so Ciel decided to lighten his collar on the elder demon by helping out with housework.

Didn't work. Ciel did not find the tasks amusing or entertaining in any form, rather long and tedious. Useless! He ended up making more of a mess for Sebastian to clean up anyway. But he did find that he liked spending time in the garden. It was peaceful, unlike some other things.

Ciel's next act of time killing was pissing Sebastian off. Seeing as he can't help or, he dare say, befriend, the elder, he decided to do what's best. That means doing what he's best at. And that's pissing people royally off.

"Sebastian," the immortal boy groaned out, bottom lip puckered out in a pout as he closes his mouth from a yawn. His breath is warm against his eternal fair skin.

Of course, the eternal butler is never far behind when the young Phantomhive calls.

"Yes, my Lord?" he says. As dull and as bitter as the day the idiot decided to punch a hole through his stomach.

Sebastian had lost the spark in his eyes, a spark that Ciel found safety and dangerous seduction in… While he was human, of course. Those looks and shameless flirting had been Sebastian before Trancy and his bitches ended it all. Clearly his looks and acts where but a false. A snare fit to trap and marinate his pray in.

That pray is inedible now- and it is here to stay.

"Tell me a joke," The boy says, leaning back in a chair two sizes too big. The other demon stares across the room at him, not missing a beat. No new emotion did he show. Dull and bitter… like always.

"Now is not the time for games,"

"Ooh? And what, pray tell, is?"

"It is time for supper," he says.

I drop the act of being friendly and teasing, my frown- that now, I decide, to keep for eternity as well- returns.

"Evening tea shall be held in the library," Sebastian says, and without another word, he leaves with swiftness. Eager swiftness. To leave.

Ciel grew bitter that day. He already was, however. This time he was bitter with himself.

And he's getting angry at himself too. It wasn't his fault he was turned into a stupid demon.

It's Sebastian's for not protecting him!

Ciel is just about done trying to ease the tension between them. Sebastian had been nothing but quite and cruel towards him. It was not like the Young Master wished to keep his soul a forever tease towards the elder. He had, regrettably- he realizes now, slipped a side comment or two to the man that if he tripped up on his duties, he'd refrain from giving the demon his due. Of course, the man's response was a smirk and a quick reply of 'If I couldn't do mearly this, what kind of butler would I be?'. Apparently, you turned out to be a shitty one.

Ciel decides that if Sebastian doesn't want to quit their silent war, he'll stop it by becoming nonexistent.

He starts going on outings.

Without telling Sebastian.

Not like he cared, though…

On the first day of being a rebel, he thought of weakly in his brain, he walked down the streets of the little Scottish village he and Sebastian currently resigned in. Staying in one place for so long, people tend to notice the non-ageing side effect that came with the turn-into-a-demon package. Ciel did not want to keep moving- he wanted to settle in a place and live a normal life, to have a taste of a universe in which he could be human again, without burning desires to get revenge or killing his butler just because he smirked the wrong way.

The last desire wasn't gone, however.

Ciel walked down the village, his lips in a small pressed frown and his eyes heavy and dark. Exhaustion from being a demon… Exhaustion from this existence… Exhaustion from dealing with the man he once thought a savior now turned I-Give-The-Cold-Shoulder-A-Whole-New-Level.

He was tired.

The year was 1948. It had been sixty years since he was turned into a demon. A being he never dreamed of being. No. The idea never even graced his mind.

He was prepared to die the day everything was lost… the first time.

Now everything is lost yet again, and Ciel finds himself stuck in a hell he never imagined suffering.

And he's lost.

Litterally.

Ciel had taken turns at random, paying no mind to the sights. Ha, what a thing! What would Sebastian say, if he saw his little Lord wandering the streets of a commoner's lot. A joke…

And Sebastian seems to keep proving that he's just a joke.

Ciel, being a demon for a good sixty years, didn't find a good plausibly reason to put blame on Sebastian. But that was the logical side of him talking; he listens to the preferred side: His pride.

This is all Sebastian's fault. If he had been nicer, maybe just a little bit sympathetic towards his eternally tiny dictator, Ciel wouldn't be frantically speed walking the sidewalks, looking for a way back to the cottage in which they stayed.

On instinct, he knows he should call for Sebastian to come get him. But who wants to get a cold stare and a menacing remark of his attire? Not even the starry eyed boy with a permanent pout.

Ciel manages to find himself back home. It took a good two long hours –or more- of aimlessly wondering, until a woman that was old and kind enough to ask what he was doing on such a night, a night so dark it matched his one visible right eye.

He gave her his address, and she happily (yet slowly), showed him in the right direction. And follow her orders, he found himself walking up the path to the mountains, where their home sat between a large boulder, and the curve of a grassy mountain. A beautiful scene, isn't it?

Ciel lost the gift of finding beauty long ago.

His hand touches the doorknob, yet he pauses before opening and entering.

Did Sebastian wonder where I was?

Ciel quickly answered himself, with another question.

When does he ever wonder, much less question, what you're doing?

Touché

Ciel lets out a loud sigh, and despite him having enough energy and stamina to circle the earth a few times, he felt like he was human once again. Weak, and asthmatic-ridden.

The house was quite, all lights off. This did not surprise the Young Master, for Sebastian turned off lights at Ten O'clock P.M.. But he nearly growls out in frustration, his one visible eye shimmering black.

Black.

Ciel's eyes, when angry or just trying it out for kicks, use to turn red. A lot like the elder demon he called a butler.

But as of late, Ciel's eyes… turn black.

Why? Ciel kept it to himself, however. He knew trying to make conversation with Sebastian was futile. The most they even talk to each other is when they use to decide on where to go live next.

Ciel gave up on picking, when he completely lost interest, thirty-eight years ago.

Sebastian picks it. There was no final word from either demon, or try at purposing ideas. So it's a mystery Ciel doesn't want to bother solving until they get there.

His eye has gone starry blue once more, scanning the dark room for signs of life besides bug or mouse.

He finds none. However, there is something on the table. Intrigued, Ciel goes to see. He doesn't bother with the lights: he can see just fine in the dark.

There, on the cherry wood table, is a little china plate. White and shiny with gauz, tipped with tiny fake glass roses. Fine piece of china indeed- but it wasn't the plate he was most interested in.

It was the cake presented out on top of it.

When was the last time Sebastian made him a cake? Much less anything that was actual food.

Ciel has tried eating mortal food many times. He isn't a full blood demon, he has taste buds-. The fact that it always comes back out is the problem.

When Ciel does eat, it's usually something bad tasting, packed with ridiculous vitamins and other things a 'growing boy' such as myself needs.

Sebastian makes him eat that stuff once in awhile. Ciel swears that it's on purpose. It isn't hard to remember all of the times they have past sweet stores, especially when he catches a smell that makes him drool.

His butler seems to be crawling up the picking order.

"You'll get obese and sick, my Lord," Sebastian's voice echos in his head.

"I am a demon, am I not?" he would fuss in response.

"Yes, my Lord,"

"Then why no pastry?"

"Not good imp food," was all he said, shooing the boy he called master off, before mumbling darkly about making something healthy for the Young Master.

His a friggin' demon. He can't get fat… right?

It made him stop eating sugars.

Damn you Sebastian. He thinks darkly, plopping down at the head of the table. There was silver wear was set out as well.

"Oh well, can't let go of such an opportune time to get fat, now, can I?" he mumbles out grumbly, picking up the silver fork. He stabs the luxurious chocolate cake like it itself killed his parents. He takes a bite like a starved man. Then he eats the rest of the cake like a fighter dog getting rewarding for good behavior.

It was the best thing he's eaten in sixty years. And, unbeknownst to Ciel, a pair of soft red eyes watched him from afar… Chuckling silently with gentle satisfaction.