Chapter Text
Sebastian knew his usually blank expression was twisted into a furious snarl, but it didn’t matter. No one could see him in the shadows of the barn rafters. The Earl Phantomhive looked so small down below, bound and on his knees in the hay before the louts that had had the gall to kidnap him. With almost every fiber of his being, Sebastian wanted to swoop down and kill them all before sweeping the young lord up in his arms and bearing him safely home. Still, he waited. It was ever his vain hope that one of these days it would get through his master’s thick head that he needed to take heed of his own safety. Demon or no, Sebastian couldn’t be everywhere at once, and the way the boy seemed to waltz constantly into danger infuriated him. If Ciel kept tempting the fates, eventually Sebastian would arrive too late to save him.
Most of the men in the barn weren’t paying any mind to the bleeding Earl. They were facing outward, knuckles white around the grips of their guns. Sebastian had earned himself a certain reputation when it came to Lord Phantomhive. The man who seemed to be in charge crouched, bringing himself to eye level with the young master while he loaded a syringe with a milky substance. Sebastian shifted, ready to pounce before whatever it was could be injected in the boy. Then the man spoke.
“You should feel honored, Lord Phantomhive. This is a truth serum that my master went to great expense to secure specifically for you. Once this is in your system, you won’t be able to help but tell me what I want to know. Specifically, all of the details of every case Her Majesty currently has you deployed on.”
Sebastian paused. A truth serum, hmm? That could prove interesting. Not here, of course. Here it could be catastrophic, but Sebastian didn’t plan to allow his young master to remain here much longer.
Ciel flinched as the man stabbed the needle into his shoulder and pressed his thumb against the plunger. Once the syringe was empty, he dropped it onto the ground and stepped back, retrieving a pocket watch to count out the minutes until the drug worked. Sebastian didn’t need a watch – he could tell the moment it began to have an effect. Ciel’s jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck trembling as he attempted to keep his mouth closed. Still, it opened and he snapped it closed again with obvious effort.
That should be enough, Sebastian decided. In the blink of an eye, he was in motion, making short work of the trash. Standing on the leader’s face like nothing was amiss, he bowed to his master.
“Shall we go home, my lord?” he asked, appreciating the relief he saw filling the young man’s one visible eye. Pulling a silver table knife from his coat pocket, he sliced through Ciel’s bonds and gathered him against his chest before bounding towards the rooftops. He could feel the tenseness in the young man’s form as he fought against truths he did not want to set loose. Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder what words were forcing themselves against the young man’s teeth, now, in the presence of none but his butler.
The journey home was silent. Setting him down in his bedroom, Sebastian waited, still hoping some interesting tidbit might slip from his master’s thinly pressed lips as he tended to Ciel’s superficial wounds. His fingers marched up the buttons of Ciel’s nightshirt with practiced ease. When the last button was fastened, he backed away, disappointed. With one hand on the doorknob, he stared down at the young man who refused to meet his eyes.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else, my lord?”
Finally, Ciel spoke. “No.”
Sebastian froze. “No, you aren’t sure, or no, there is nothing else?” The young man was silent again and Sebastian pressed his advantage. “Is there something you need, my lord?”
In all of the years that Sebastian had watched the Earl of Phantomhive grow, occasionally he thought that surely the boy had nothing left with which to surprise him. Each time, he had been proven wrong. Tonight was an excellent example.
“Sebastian. Kiss me.”