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Coercion and Contamination

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Coercion and Contamination


Claude nudged the door of the late Alois' bedroom shut behind him and let out a shuttering breath. He looked down at the unconscious boy in his arms, letting the disbelief finally stain his face now that he was alone. It had happened so quickly, his mind so focused on the task that the events of earlier that day almost felt like a blur. But he had done it. The soul which Sebastian clung onto with an inexplicable vigour actually rejected his own butler in his favour. He let his fingers curl securely around the boy, momentarily unable to trust his temporary form to keep the precious parcel from falling.

He pulled back the heavy drapery veiling the bed and swung it around the bedpost. He placed Ciel on the mattress, paying extra care to the web-like cloak he'd placed over the boy's shoulders and lingered over the boy's sleeping countenance for a moment before pulling away. The further he got, it seemed, the more difficult it was to resist the temptation before him. Letting two fingers slid over the moisture seeping through his lips, Claude turn to take his leave but halted when a murmur escaped from his charge.

"Seb-bas-tan…" The boy's lips barely moved as if that word, or the parts that made up that word, had become second nature to him. Ciel's brows furrowed and he turned onto his side, away from Claude.

"Danna-sama." The butler said in a hypnotic monotone, the same one he'd used earlier that day in the secrecy of the Trancy basement.

But there was no movement other than the rhythmic rise and fall of "his" master's chest.

Claude approached the bed and stood over the sleeping boy, his glasses flashing from an unknown source of light, "Danna-sama." He repeated.

The butler's apprehension stirred when he was, again, received with silence. "Bocchan." He finally said with reluctance.

Ciel groaned and shifted to a more comfortable position, unconsciously keeping his back to Claude. The butler pulled himself into a dignified stance and took off his glasses, resting them on the top of his head and letting them camouflage with his dark hair. He wasn't upset, in fact, in was elated. This, undoubtedly, was another glimpse at what made this particular soul such a delicacy. Despite the physiological and mental coercive techniques he'd used to make Ciel his own, the boy's unconscious still echoed of his original contract. If he wanted this dark purity, all of it, he would have to contend with this more stubborn aspect of the boy as well. Although he quietly commended Sebastian for acquiring such a specimen, he had no doubt he could break through to the subconscious just as thoroughly as he did the conscious.

After removing his gloves and placing them on the late Alois' nightstand, he carefully seated himself on the edge of the bed and lay a naked hand on the young Earl's forehead, drawing out the subconscious so he could spar with it on equal grounds. What the demon was confronted with was not something he could fully comprehend, however, having pulled it to he surface, he was confident he could subdue it. While Ciel's eyes remained tightly closed, his body and facial expression was not one of someone peacefully rested. He was on guard yet helpless at the same time, the part within him that ruled over the depths of his mind struggling within the confines of the unmoving body.

The glowing purple of the butler's eyes receded to a dull amber as his powers pulled back within him. "Bocchan." He said shortly but with a controlled husk in his tone.

The owner of that honorific flopped his head towards him, his body slowly following suit like a disjointed rag doll. Anyone else would have found this disturbing but to Claude, it was a sign of his progress. Ciel sighed as the butler's hand drifted down to cup his cheek, leaning into the inhuman warmth it provided. "Who are you?" Claude asked, his four fingers stroking the curve of the boy's jaw line.

"I am," The earl paused to let out a shuddering breath, "Ciel P-Phantomhive."

The fingers dipped lower to finger the sensitive throat, sliding in tune with the boy's Adam's apple. "What are you?"

"I am, I am the Queen's watchdog."

"Where is your family?"

Ciel's tilted his head back and the demon was more than willing to offer more of his touch. "M-mother and father died…in a fire."

"And your brother?" Claude asked, tugging at one of the tails of the earl's bow and letting it unravel.

Ciel fell silent and Claude's fingers gave a fleeting twitch before confidently returning to their ministrations. They flipped off the first button of the earl's outer layer and while they descended to the rest, the demon boldly leaned down and pressed his lips against the earl's throat. "Did you see them die?" He asked, his lip grazing up and down the soft skin as he spoke into it.

Ciel's brow knitted and he squirmed in his position but a reassuring hand on his upper arm stilled him. The butler patiently waited for an answer as he took in the boy's scent, pleased with the way it agreed with his senses. But Ciel couldn't answer, his only verbalizations unidentifiable. Claude couldn't tell if they arose from frustration or…

"Bocchan." The demon chided softly, giving the boy's arm a light squeeze with one hand while the other continued on its mission.

"No…" The word seemed to crawl out of the earl's throat. Claude gave an appreciative hum as he lifted his charge into a sitting position in a smooth motion, not once breaking his rhythm.

"Who died in a fire?" The heavy coat was slipped off and cast aside with minimal disturbance to the demon-spun web over it.

The earl's head dropped forward but Claude was quick to catch it, resting the boy's forehead on his shoulder as he held him, feeling for the boy's heartbeat. The rhythm was irregular as if the conflicted mind was conveying this to the body.

"Mother, father…" Came a lazy mumble from the crook of his neck.

Claude found the left hand and fingered the ring containing the late Alois' soul shackling one of the earl's fingers. 'If only it was as easy as pressing a button' the butler thought, 'of course then the chase would not be so enticing.'

"Try to remember. Who did you see?"

Ciel gave a soft whine and squirmed with impatience, "I can't remember, Sebastian." He clawed a handful of Claude's lapel, fingernails scratching harshly into the fine material.

"Patience, bocchan, it will come." And how could Claude resist but slip a hand underneath the boy's collared shirt? He traced the spine, then veered off to the left, then the right, counting each rib cage. His hand snaked upwards again, towards the protruding shoulder blades. For an earl, the child was very skinny.

Claude let his palm lie flat against Ciel's back, allowing the inhuman warmth to diffuse into the smaller body, "There was another."

"Really?" The earl's right shoulder twitched and Claude shifted the position of his hand just a little.

"Yes." The butler said gently into 'his' charge's ear, "He was small, a child."



"Why is it so warm in here?"

Claude gave a self satisfied smirk and drove his palm into the earl's back once more before pulling it away, "Do you want me to help you out of your shirt, young master?"

Ciel only grunted in response and the demon proceeded to unbutton the white collared shirt, manoeuvring each arm through the sleeves with ease as a result of the boy's cooperation. He slid it over Ciel's shoulders and off of him, shoving it as well as the flimsy vest over it somewhere aside. Despite the uncomfortable warmth, Ciel shivered from exposure and drew himself closer to Claude.

"You see, bocchan," Claude guided both of the boy's palms to rest against his chest and leaned the boy's head against him so that he would be comforted by the illusion that was Claude's heartbeat, "they killed more than just your parents, they killed your entire family."

"Huh?" Ciel tried to turn his head up but the butler's hand stilled him.

"I'm afraid so. All three of them died by their hands."

Ciel mumbled something inaudible but Claude didn't make the effort to try and hear what it was. What mattered more were the memories he was injecting into the boy, not the ones he already had. "And they tried to come for you too, do you remember that?"

The earl gave a pained cry and Claude tightened his hold, allowing is hand to peek under the boy's waistband undetected. The butler kissed his cheek and Ciel seemed to settle down, although his breathing was somewhat more laboured than before.

"I think…" Ciel began, but Claude was ready to pounce.

"But they all died before they got to you. Bocchan, you are very lucky," He left a fleeting kiss on Ciel's mouth before carefully laying him back down, arranging the web neatly around his shoulder's like the tail of a bride's dress. Ciel reached up with both hands to claw around Claude's neck and the butler let him, hovering over him just enough so he wasn't lying completely on top of the boy.

"The whole village." And Ciel's face scrunched up momentarily before relaxing. He nodded slowly. "You are right about that part."

"You are lucky, bocchan." Claude whipped his glasses off his head and tossed them on the late Alois' nightstand before diving in for a firm and calculated kiss. In his moment of weakness, Ciel's hands went limp and slid off the butler's neck but Claude swiftly took them in his own, intertwining the tapered fingers securely around his neck before letting his hands drop to the wrists, loosely holding them in place. It wasn't long before the innocent earl responded favourably and Claude didn't hesitate to plead for entry, his expertise having the earl producing pleasing sounds and arching up for more. When they parted, Claude ensured that it was on his own terms only and that the innocent earl would be left satisfied but unfulfilled.

"Lucky bocchan." He repeated, almost directly into the swollen, parted lips. Ciel tried to pull him back down but Claude grabbed both of his arms at their juncture so they couldn't move. "Patience, young master." He chuckled, "In due time."

A tear slid from the corner of Ciel's uncovered eye, leaving a wet trail that ended when it disappeared into the bed sheet. While the demon's sights trained to the rest of the body, his hand sought out that ring again, drawing out the soul that was Alois Trancy, a soul that would never rest. "Bocchan, tell me what happened that day." Claude kissed the pale chest through the web, darting around a dusty nub until Ciel manoeuvred himself over the mouth in frustration.

A long, throaty noise dragged from him before he slurred, "Villiage dead. Brother dead."

"And then?" He gave it his full attention until it hardened and dimpled before turning to its twin.

Ciel moaned and writhed uncontrollably, the novel explosion of sensation overwhelming his control over his body. Holding him down with one hand, the butler eased off, amused by the boy's inexperience. He repeated his question and, after the boy settled down, he replied, "I don't remember."

"You were taken away, bocchan, by…" Claude moved downwards until he reached the dip of Ciel's navel.

"…those people that, that," The earl grunted, sucking in a short, quick breaths at the partially pleasant, partially ticklish touch, "t-took, c-collected child-r-r-ren."

Almost no time passed between the moment Claude took hold of his waistband and the moment his shorts disappeared from his body. Sebastian's former master was completely naked, completely vulnerable and defenceless against the pollution of both his body and soul. And from the look of his unblossomed boyhood, Ciel was highly receptive.

"The old man," Ciel began and Claude dove forward with vigour, "defi - " But the young earl could only utter so much before he gave into the incoherency that resulted from a flood of a sensation he'd never felt before. He couldn't say it but he felt it; the dominance, wetness, rigid restraint and warmth, no, heat of the one bearing down on him. For a moment, he was lost, his head consumed by the late Alois' pillow as he pushed himself against it, ruffling his deep blue hair and tangling the web around his shoulders. But while his head, mind, and unconsciousness sought to get away, his lower half bucked forward for more, succumbing to the demonic enticement.

The ring almost constricted his finger as his mind was bombarded with countless images, memories, all of which melding together and intermingling so that it was impossible to tell which were real, or which were his own. He saw an image of himself draped in a loose silk kimono and seated on the edge of a large canopy bed while his foot was fondled by a faceless person. He was worshipped but in a manner that disgusted him because the role reversal was completely controlled by the other party. As he reached his peak, the features on that blank form carved into place. Dull, grey eyes, a large nose, dropping cheeks, a nearly toothless grin and long thinning hair that barely covered the aging head. It was the Trancy earl.

Claude didn't allow even a speck of Ciel on him when he brought the boy to completion, unwilling to prematurely spoil the taste of the soul in any form. The earl was a breathless, soiled mess beneath him and fully opened to his manipulation, like fresh clay ready to be moulded. Claude glanced at that the center of the ring where the blood-red ruby was mounted, noting how it looked darker than before. The ruby stared up at him, an accusing eye that could do nothing but serve as his tool.

"You were his favourite." The demon said in an even tone as he tugged at the fabric of his own trousers and released himself of the mounting pressure. One of the disadvantages to his human form was the susceptibility to anything sexual in nature but the inhuman part of him greatly aided in the control of this. He kept the rest of his attire on, ensuring that his clothes were as neat as possible despite the nature of this encounter. In spite of his position as a servant, he would conduct his business with dignity and grace. "You were his most precious possession."

"Earl Trancy…." The boy said as if delirious and Claude confirmed the answer with a gentle squeeze to his buttocks. He dipped two fingers in his mouth, generously slicking them before they made their way to the earl's rear. It was difficult to tell if Sebastian had gone as far as he did but Claude knew from this first touch that the other demon has not been where he was about to go. Raising both of the boy's legs so that the balls of his feet were flat against the mattress, he wormed in his first finger.

Ciel's brow wrinkled in discomfort and Claude captured his lips again, this time in a kiss so sickening sweet it was almost mocking in nature. A groan vibrated from Ciel's chest and throat as a second finger joined it, the two scissoring and stretching in relentless pursuit.

"Tell me more about him, Bocchan."

The earl's lower half squirmed uncomfortably but the demon did nothing to dull the discomfort, allowing instead for it to pass, as he knew it would. "He," Ciel managed through gritted teeth, "…hurt. Hurts!"

"Easy, young master." Claude latched his lips in the crook of the boy's tender neck and began sucking gently, a third finger joining its comrades some time during the delirium. After a few short, quick breaths, Ciel's tensed body relaxed and be was breathing evenly again, groaning from something other than pain.

"He hurt me and he hated me."

The fingers ploughed deeper into the unexplored cavern, manoeuvring expertly until they found the spot that made the earl give an undignified squeal.

"He called you - " The demon brushed that spot until Ciel was open-mouthed and coughing up sounds of pleasure.

"- U-ugly." He gasped.

The digits left him and Ciel felt hollow. He inched himself downwards as they retreated as if to beg them to come back. "Were you?" Claude asked challengingly, right into the blushing blotch on the earl neck. The demon repositioned himself and took his mark.

"No!" Was the self-assured, strangled scream as Claude drove forward.

"Remember." The demon chided firmly, his strokes paced and even without regard for the condition of his charge. Ciel's mind ringed like the fleeting echoes of a gong, memories of his mistreatment flooding his thoughts and emotions with such lucidity that he felt he was reliving the moment. He had been insulted for the way he looked at the man, a gaze that had held so much distain it made his whole body ugly. The old man had thrown him to the ground, jabbed him with his cane and treated him like the vermin he was at the time. Then he was rescued by the darkness. It had been a promising darkness that came from a child's fairytale beliefs. But the overwhelming needs, wants and desires that came from someone who'd been robbed of absolutely everything made it happen. The merciful darkness made him beautiful and desirable, two things that would give him the world.

"What are you?" The demon demanded as he approached his peak.

With moisture matting his bangs to his forehead and his throat dry from the gulps of air, Ciel answered obediently, "I am worthy!"

A well-aimed strike hit him in that spot and was swiftly followed by, "I am great!"

Another strike, "I am perfect!"

"I am wanted!"

"I am needed!"

"I am better!"

"I am the best!"

One final strike and they both over flew over their peaks, Ciel for the second time, "I am…I am… Trancy!"

Flooded with self satisfaction and intense corporal ecstasy, Claude withdrew himself and left the boy to his own devices. The earl's legs collapsed in a loose tangle beneath him while both of his arms were rigid from his grip on the sheets. He looked as if he wouldn't survive the encounter but soon fell back into his slumber, breathing a rhythmic rise and fall and body slumped heavily on the support beneath him.

The demon fixed himself and rose from the bed, retrieving his glasses from the late Alois' nightstand and resting them on his nose. The sight of his trophy delighted and disgusted him, the latter a vestige of his enduring regard of his previous masters.

"Danna-sama." He said with both hands at his side.


Claude's nerves tinged and he repeated himself with great apprehension, "Danna-sama."

Again, he was met with a silence he didn't want to hear.

One hand at his side clenched in a fist while the other shook like the beating of a hummingbird's wings. This wasn't right. He was sure he'd managed to sway the unconscious just as well as he did the waking mind yet, somehow, it still resisted him. He stole a glance at the ring. Why hadn't the boy's body been coloured like it should have?

"Sebastian…" Came a mumble that almost made him smash something in a very human rage.

Patience and self control thrown aside, Claude strode up to the edge of the bed and swiped some of the fluid off the earl's belly with a forefinger, tasting it. It was completely revolting, a merger of two distinct tastes that did not belong together. He spat it out and wiped his dribble with the palm of his hand, his tongue still tingling with the nastiness he couldn't forget soon enough.

"To mix their memoirs, I didn't think you'd go as far as to muddy the taste of a soul."*

The demon covered his mouth to block the gag reflex. It was, indeed, like mud. Steadying himself with one hand against the wall, he lowered his head in thought. It wasn't too late. Given enough time, he could still devise a way to fix this. But that would have to wait. The light of dawn was already peaking through the windows and he had to continue with his redecorating. The staff also needed to be informed of this new development. Of course he wouldn't divulge every bit of information but he would give them enough to order their cooperation. Taking his leave, he quickened his pace as he reached the door, ensuring that it was closed securely behind him. He made it just in time before that name was uttered once more.