does not belong to them. Pleasure in the form of pain can come later, when the boy is ready and more…susceptible to such sinful carnalities. But for now, Sebastian will warm him from the outside in, doing so until he’s melting in the demon’s coaxing embrace.

Docile as his flushed skin is warm from the bath water. Until his malleable young master does not so much as flinch when Sebastian finally sinks the tip of his finger inside his softened entrance. The only outward signs of acknowledgement given are a sweet sigh, the flutter of

dark lashes, and those tiny hips rocking back curiously, chasing the meager friction Sebastian offers. After that, it’s not long before Sebastian has the boy bent over the edge of the tub, three fingers thrusting deep, and that usually scathing voice reduced to a pitiful baby

whine that echoes off the tiled walls beautifully. The sound of splashing water, of slapping flesh, of Ciel begging for /more, harder, again, again/—it burns through Sebastian like hellfire and sets his eyes aglow. A flare of crimson hunger through the steam filled bathroom.

And all it took was a little patience, and the smallest of touches. How very simple humans remain. How very temptable. He wonders what else he can accomplish given the time. Though, he supposes he has their entire contract to find out. But first, a bath.