A/N: Did you miss me, Darlings? It's only been two months this time, not a year or more. I'll try to do better. So, Happy Holidays! Please enjoy my gift to you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I only manipulate them for my own entertainment and sadistic pleasure.

Lucifer took his hand and kissed it before examining the scar. "It is a thing of beauty," he told Grell as he released the red-head's hand and rolled up the sleeve of his own shirt. "However, if it pains you to see it, your demon has an exceptional artistic talent. The way he works with ink on flesh is true perfection."

Sebastian frowned as he stared at the dejected fellow across the table from him. The demon dropped six cubes of sugar in the other's early morning coffee followed by the warm, frothy milk he had prepared. "If you're that concerned, Sir, search him out," the Phantomhive butler told him gently.

Undertaker narrowed his eyes at his companion. "Is it really that simple, though, Nabby?" He asked.

The demon gave him an affectionate smile. "Actually, yes. It is," he replied, taking a sip of his own coffee.

The elder reaper shrugged his shoulders. "As much as I enjoyed the lad, perhaps it wasn't in the cards, eh?" He asked. "He insulted William. Remember, my dear; the family comes first."

"Agreed," Sebastian nodded, setting his cup into its saucer. "And as you are a part of this family and you are hurting for your mate—"

"Not my mate, my dear," Undertaker corrected with a waggle of his finger.

Sebastian smirked and leaned toward the other conspiratorially. "Would you have had my abilities, he would have been marked that first night, Sir," he replied knowingly. "You've claimed him in other ways."

"I've claimed many, my dear. What of it?" Undertaker scoffed, trying and failing to hide his broken heart. "Been claimed by a few as well. I don't see them living here with us."

"Well, of course not," Sebastian replied with a small smile. "One that claimed you has an underworld to rule. You know this time is different."

Undertaker stirred his coffee with a long, black nail. "Perhaps," he sighed wistfully, placing a drop of the caffeine laden beverage on his tongue. "Suppose we'll never know, will we?"

Sebastian smiled gently. "That is entirely up to you, Sir," he said, rising from his chair and straightening his uniform. "Though I am loathe to leave you like this, it is time I returned to my young master."

"Yes, yes, go and tenderize the lad. Get him all to your tastes," Undertaker answered, taking up his hat before standing as well. "I'll go see about my guests and see you this evening, I suppose."

"Well then, do try to have a pleasant day, Sir," Sebastian said in parting.

"And you, Brother."

Ronald checked over his reaps for the morning, settled precariously on the ledge of a building in the southern part of London. White billows of his breath formed in front of him in the chilly air as he scanned over the names. Nothing stood out to him as important with this lot. These people didn't seem worth granting an exemption.

"Fuck it all," he grumbled, stuffing the papers in his jacket and shoving his hands between his legs to try to warm them. After a few moments, he glanced at his wrist watch, making sure he wasn't going to miss his first reap. Some old codger was scheduled to drop dead of a heart attack first thing this morning. After that, he had a lady suffering from an aneurism. Natural causes were specified on the To Die List. Those dying by accidental means were just designated by names. He had two of those prior to lunch. They usually ended up being hit by a carriage or thrown by a horse. Every now and then he'd get a murder. Those were exciting. Watching it play out, the desperation of the victim as their life was forcefully extracted from them; brilliant. It was like watching a book play out simply for his entertainment.

As green eyes scanned the streets, they caught sight of a figure clad from head to toe in black, long silver hair swaying as he walked. The hat tipped in greeting to a passersby as he made his way down the streets to his shop. Ronald felt his heart catch in his chest as Undertaker walked beneath him, not even realizing that he was in his vicinity.

"Damn it," Ronald hissed, leaning over the other side of the building and following the man with his eyes until he passed from view. He moaned and rolled onto his back, arm draped over his face dramatically. "I have got to get that bastard back."

The beeping of his watch alerted him to his first death. Leaping to his feet, Ronald scanned the area, finding the man where he was scheduled to be. Ronald revved the engine of his death scythe just as the man grasped at his heart. By the time his knees hit the ground, his cinematic record was being collected and reviewed.

"Yep," Ronald murmured to himself as he scanned the reel. "Not worth keeping here. Enjoy the Fluffers, Sir; and their incessant singing."

The lady with the aneurism died in a hat shop. Ronald had to watch out for the hat ribbons there; they kept trying to tangle around the records. He viewed her life's account and deemed her ready to pass on as well.

"Go see your Mister again, Missus," he said softly. "Looks like you loved him quite a bit."

He exited the hat shop and checked his watch again. Fifteen minutes to his next reap and it was just a street over. Strolling along, he passed by a coffee shop. The rich aroma wafted from the semi-ajar door into the street, setting his mouth to watering.

"Eh, a bit of a warm pick-me up sounds brilliant right now," he said with a grin, making his way into the shop. He ordered a coffee and browsed a bit while sipping at the dainty cup.

"Enjoying it, Lad?" Called the purveyor of the shop.

"Aye, it's good," Ronald answered. "Smooth and bold. I quite like it." He smacked his lips and grinned, knowing someone else who would enjoy the brew. "Oi, you sell this lot for personal use?"

"Aye, I can get you a bag of the beans," he answered. "Want them whole or ground?"

"Ah, leave 'em whole, would ya?" He asked. "Gift for my boss. I screwed up a bit. Need some forgiveness. He's a bit of a coffee snob, yeah?"

The shop owner chuckled. "That should please him nicely and get you back in his good graces for sure," he told him, tying the beans up and tossing them to Ronald. "May even get a raise out of it."

Ronald passed him some money and grinned, tucking the bag in his suit jacket and returning the now empty cup. "My thanks," he said. "Have a good day, Sir."

"And you, Lad."

Ronald checked his watch and picked up his pace as he left the shop, hurrying to the next street over as a commotion started up. He summoned his scythe and leapt into the air, searching the ground for the victim.

Hit by a carriage, rather brutally, too, it seemed. The poor girl's leg was twisted at a painful angle, her head split opened and blood staining her blond hair red. Blue eyes stared up unseeing into the frigid gray sky. Ronald shook his head as he reviewed the short record. "Even if you were worthy of staying, it'd be hard to do so with you like this, Lass," he said solemnly.

Tucking the record away, he checked his watch and launched himself back into the air, settling on the roof across from his next assignment. A young man, in his late twenties at best, sat rigidly at a desk, scrawling lazily on a piece of paper.

Ronald sat on the ledge and watched him, reaching for his To Die List to read the final name for the morning. Matthew Richards, 28; time of death, 10:42 am.

A quick peek at his watch showed the time as 10:34 am. Ronald sighed and waited, watching to see if he could figure out his cause of death.

It wasn't natural, otherwise it would have been listed next to his name. "Robbery, perhaps," he mused to himself, leaning forward and squinting. He knew he couldn't see what the other man was writing, but that didn't stop him from trying to catch a look.

10:36 am.

"Penning a letter to your lover, eh?" He asked with a grin. "I'll make sure they get it, Mate."

Matthew continued scrawling, a small, contented smile stamped to his lips as his hand moved effortlessly over the paper, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

10:38 am.

"Or are you writing a novel?" He wondered. "Grell-sempai and the boss' first reap was a writer. Sad one, that. So much potential. Is your work worth saving you? Maybe I should take a closer look."

Ronald rose to his feet and jumped the distance between the buildings, landing gracefully on the ledge of Matthew's window.

10:40 am.

Matthew sat the quill beside the paper and capped the ink well. Rising from his seat, he moved toward a closet, taking out his overcoat and hat. Ronald watched for a moment before turning toward the paper and reading.

Dearest Mother and Father,

Matthew pulled the overcoat on and fastened it deftly.

I am so sorry that I couldn't be the son you wished me to be.

Next, a scarf, obviously handmade, but beautifully crafted.

I know my life was a disgrace to you.

Gloves were next, fine material yet worn with time and use.

Perhaps my death can bring you some small measure of peace.

The hat was placed precisely on his head. Nodding in satisfaction at his appearance, Matthew pulled a pistol from his overcoat and placed it to his temple.

Yours Affectionately,

The report of a gun rang in Ronald's ears, his heart leaping first into his throat and then dropping to his stomach as he turned.

Matthew

Ronald's knees gave out as his stomach emptied itself of the small measure of contents it held. Matthew's body had crumpled, his head a mass of gore, his right hand still clutching at the pistol desperately.

The young reaper stared in shock at the sight, flashes from his own death racing across his vision. Clasping his head in his hands, Ronald doubled over and screamed.

"Grell should be returning to work on Monday," William stated as he sipped at the coffee his demon lover had sat before him.

"Mm, I'm sure our lady will be pleased to return to the job he enjoys," Sebastian replied with a smile, pencil in hand as it moved effortlessly across a pad of paper. "I'm glad you could visit this morning, William. The young master is meeting with a potential business partner at present and I am not needed. He opted for Tanaka's expertise, thankfully."

"The pleasure is all mine, my love," William purred, taking Sebastian's free hand and kissing it. "I have no reaps until later this afternoon. Knox is covering the morning shift today."

Sebastian glanced over at his lover as he continued with his drawing. "Hm, Mr. Knox and Undertaker had a bit of a falling out last night, it seems," he began.

"Honestly Sebastian, are we going to sit here and gossip like prudish housewives?" William asked indignantly.

Sebastian smirked as he drew out a vine of roses on the paper. "As the gossip pertains to a member of our family, yes, William; we are."

William rolled his eyes behind his glasses, filling his coffee cup again. "Fine," he said. "What happened?"

"It was over you, my love," Sebastian told him with a soft smile. "More specifically, your reaction to Mr. Knox's teasing last night."

"The little shit set me off saying I was boring," he scoffed. "I'm not boring."

Sebastian rubbed absently at the mark William had given him on his shoulder. "Decidedly not, Darling," he purred. He returned to his drawing. "However, Undertaker decided Mr. Knox needed to be punished."

"I'll wager Knox enjoyed that," William snorted in amusement.

"You would lose that wager, William," Sebastian answered. "Undertaker withheld affection from poor Mr. Knox last evening. Apparently, it angered the young man so much, he left in the middle of the night and did not return."

William snickered at that. "Knox left because Undertaker refused to fuck him due to the insult he issued against me?" He clarified.

"It would seem so," Sebastian answered, adding details to the roses. "Undertaker informed Mr. Knox that though you and he aren't exactly amicable at times, you are still his family. No insult to his family will be tolerated, by anyone; not even his lover."

William sipped his coffee, smirking slightly. "I think I'm growing rather fond of that old bird," he chuckled.

"William," Sebastian said softly, pausing in his sketch. Reaper green met demon red. "He was hurting this morning, Darling. It seems a deep affection for Mr. Knox has taken hold. Though I am pleased he defended you, it hurts me to see him in such pain."

William frowned at that, eyes lowering to the sketch before Sebastian.

"Think of it this way, Darling," he began gently, laying a hand over William's. "How would you have felt if I had agreed with you when you said you were no more to me than an accessory to Grell?"

William's stomach clenched at that, his teeth gritting together at the physical pain that shot through him. "Point taken," he murmured softly. He nodded. "I'll speak to Knox this afternoon. We'll see if we can't smooth this over."

Sebastian leaned over and kissed the reaper gently on the lips. "That would be perfect, Darling," he whispered against his lips.

William cleared his throat, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. He sipped his coffee again. "Rather elaborate for a doodle, Sebastian," he commented. "Your artistic ability astounds me."

Sebastian smiled as he continued with the drawing. "Not a mere doodle, my William," he stated proudly. He lifted the drawing so they could both view it. "This piece will be proudly inked onto our lady's rather sexy abdomen, right over his lifesaving scar."

The reaper all but drooled at that, picturing the detailed drawing decorating the pale skin of his mate. "It's perfect for him," he purred. "Perhaps add a few skulls?"

Sebastian blinked and pressed the pencil to the paper again. "Now why didn't I think of that?" He mused. "Brilliant idea, my love. That would be the perfect complement to the roses. Our lethal, deadly, gorgeous lady."

William chuckled as he flipped through his Master List, checking the progress of his reapers. "That he is," he said with a smile. "It'll be good to see Grell's name with the other's here again. Mm, Eric is behind schedule, as always. Alan is right on time. Punctual as hell, that one." He continued smiling as he flipped the pages. He stopped and slammed his hand onto the book, face paling and smile vanishing. "Bleeding hell."

He gathered his book and leapt to his feet, hurrying to the opened window. Sebastian followed him, alarmed by his reaction.

"What is it?" He asked. The demon's eyes flashed red, reaching out to sense his other mate. "It's not Grell…"

"It's Knox," William replied, climbing onto the ledge. "Forgive me, Love. I'll explain later. I have to get to him."

"I understand," he answered. "Be safe and I'll see you tonight."

William nodded before disappearing from the window.

The reaper supervisor found his subordinate curled on the floor of the deceased's flat, blood and brain matter littering the sight. Steeling his resolve, he stepped over the victim's body. Summoning his repaired death scythe, he plunged it through the chest, extracting the record quickly and efficiently.

Ronald was still sobbing softly when he heard the record winding. He looked up through tear stained glasses, watching in awe as his boss finished his job. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes as he buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, William-sempai," he whispered.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Knox," William said gently. He barely glanced away at the job at hand as he addressed the younger reaper. "I take it young Matthew Richards was your first suicide since joining the Dispatch."

Ronald nodded, wiping at his eyes.

William finished retrieving the records, sealing them within his scythe. He turned to Ronald and held a hand out to him to help him to his feet. "The first is always the hardest," he stated, taking out his handkerchief and handing it to the distraught reaper. "And the bloody bastards on high lack the basic decency to warn us that a reap is a suicide. I find it hard to believe they lack that knowledge prior to the death."

Ronald forced a smile. "They just like fucking with us, right, Boss?" He asked.

"Yes, well, they are very good at their jobs," William snapped. He pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket. "A little early yet for lunch and much too early for happy hour, yet I feel this situation warrants both. Come Knox; a bit of food and alcoholic fortification would do us both wonders."

Ronald nodded, grasping William's shoulder and pulling him toward the window. "Let's take the scenic route, eh?" He asked, glancing nervously at Matthew's body.

"Agreed," William acquiesced. "Besides, I believe the local law enforcement shall not be long in arriving. The firing of a pistol is not something that goes unnoticed for long."

They leapt out of the building and landed on the sidewalk, William setting a brisk pace through the cold London streets. "A warm meal and a warm, stiff drink," he muttered to himself, gesturing for Ronald to hurry along.

The younger man quickened his steps to keep up with William's longer stride, taking his side in moments. William darted down a side alley and into another street, climbing up the steps to a pub. Ronald followed obediently as they passed through the door.

William led the way to a table in the back, holding up two fingers. "Two whiskeys, neat and two bowls of beef and barley stew," he ordered, settling into the table.

Ronald slid into a chair, looking around the pub and then at his boss. "Nice place," he said with a slight nod.

"Well, it's never too crowded," William murmured, straightening his cuffs. "The food is passable but the whiskey is excellent." He looked around, contentment in his eyes. "It's a good place to come after a bad reap."

Ronald nodded, accepting the whiskey and the stew as it was set before him. He reached for the glass, William's hand staying him before he could grasp it.

"A few bites first, Knox; otherwise, you'll be on the floor again," William ordered. He looked at him through his glasses. "Trust me; I've been right where you are. Anderson did the same for me then, just as you will do the same for another reaper one day."

Whiskey forgotten for the moment, Ronald tucked in to the stew, savoring the feel of the thick, hearty dish sliding down his throat and warming his belly. Fresh bread was sat before them, dripping in creamy, melted butter. He snatched a piece up and dunked it into the stew before devouring it.

William smiled as he followed suit, albeit much more demurely.

"You freak out on your first suicide, too?" Ronald asked through a mouthful, finally taking a sip of the blessed, blessed whiskey. It burned like fire down to his belly, sending a shiver of delight up his spine.

"Panic attack," William clarified, tearing a piece of bread and placing it on his tongue. "It didn't help matters that mine was a Mirror."

"A Mirror?" Ronald asked.

"A suicide identical to a reaper's own end," William replied thoughtfully. "As it is, your own death floods your senses when you witness another's suicide."

Ronald shuddered. "Yeah," he whispered.

"A Mirror amplifies the pain," he stated, taking a drink. "I'll not ask about your own, but I take it Matthew Richards used a different method."

"He did," Ronald replied.

William returned to his stew. "The worst is over," he told him. "Just like with all deaths, you'll become desensitized to these as well. Soon, it'll be nothing more than another assignment."

Ronald stared into his whiskey glass, swirling the liquor inside. "Seems wrong somehow," he mused.

William frowned, lifting his glass to his lips. "Everything about all of this, is wrong," he stated harshly. "Atoning for the sin of self-slaughter by watching the deaths of others; it's a completely fucked up system."

Ronald snorted a laugh. "Completely fucked," he agreed. He downed the rest of his whiskey, slamming the glass on the table. "Sempai, I am sorry."

"As I said, Knox, there is nothing to be sorry about."

"No, not for this," he said, shaking his head. "Not the fucked up reap. I'm sorry about last night. I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'm sorry for being a right fucking prat."

William chuckled at that. "Thank you, Knox," he said. "I suppose to someone who doesn't know me as well as, others do, I can come off as boring."

Ronald patted at his jacket, finding the coffee beans he had bought. "Here!" He exclaimed with a cheeky smile. "I even got you a present to say how fucking sorry I am."

William took the bag and opened it, breathing in the alluring scent of the beans. "Lucifer's tits, those smell amazing," he groaned. He smiled at the younger reaper. "Apology accepted, Knox. Thank you. Truly."

Ronald smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Sempai," he said, biting at his lip. "For coming for me."

William returned the smile. "Of course."

Undertaker was putting the finishing touches on a guest, rouging her cheeks softly when the bell to his shop rang. He gathered up a bit of black gossamer and laid it over the young girl's prone body. "A moment please, my dear," he called. "Just finishing up."

"Take your time, Sir; I am in no hurry at present," came a familiar voice.

Undertaker's ears perked. "Mr. Spears?" He called back.

"Yes, Sir."

The mortician chuckled, pulling the gossamer back off his guest. "I'm in the back, dear," he called. "Come join me. I've had a busy morning."

William stepped back into the Undertaker's work room, looking around at the other two guests he had yet to prepare.

The elder looked up from his work. "Is Miss Sutcliff well?" He inquired, worried expression in his eyes. "She's not reinjured herself, has she?"

"No, Grell is perfect, thank you," William answered. He moved to stand next to the elder man and looked into the coffin with a frown. "Too young," he murmured. "Such a waste of life."

"Careful, Mr. Spears," Undertaker cackled. "Keep thinking that way and they might let you ascend, your time with the reapers over."

William smirked and gestured toward his hidden mark. "I'll not be ascending anywhere, Sir; thank you kindly," he stated. "When this life is over, I'll be damned to hell."

"Oh, it's not all that bad," Undertaker commented, frowning at the dried blood still clinging to his guest's lovely golden locks. "A bit warm, perhaps. Makes the demon wine that much sweeter."

"Yes, I'll need to acquire a bottle of that for Naberius' supper when the time comes," he said with a smile.

"Hm, I dare say that would complement the little lord's flavor quite nicely," the elder reaper cackled. He pulled a small lock of the golden curls forward and snipped it, placing it gently in a small decorative box. "Now, is this a social visit, my dear, or are you here on business?"

"Social," William answered, reaching into his suit pocket. He rattled the bag of coffee beans at the other man with a smirk. "Have you a grinder and percolator, Sir?"

Undertaker purred at the aroma wafting from the bag. "Both, in the kitchen to the right, my dear Mr. Spears," he said with a grin. He returned to his guest as William disappeared into the kitchen. "Are you going to share that lovely brew or are you just here to flaunt it under my nose?"

A genuine laugh came from the kitchen. "I'll gladly share it, Sir," he answered. "And I believe I said you were permitted to call me William."

A small brush and a pot of softly tinted lip stain was taken into the elder reaper's hands. "Forgive me, dear William," he called, gently gliding the brush over the child's still lips. "Formalities have been such a constant within our dynamic, it is a hard thing to shake."

"Well, while the informality is permissible on your part, please don't expect me to start calling you 'Unny'," he called. "I'll leave that particular shortening of your chosen name to Grell."

"It is a rather sweet pet name from the lovely lady and I fancy it a great deal," he chuckled, dusting a bit of powder to finish off the face. He found the small white gloves he'd set aside and pulled them on her cold fingers. He patted them affectionately, eyes filling with tears. "To keep you warm, my dear. It is cold where they'll be taking you, I'm afraid."

William returned from the kitchen, the fresh brewed coffee sitting on a tray with two cups. "Are you at a stopping point, Sir?" He asked gently.

Undertaker wiped at his eyes and nodded, placing the top of the coffin in place. "Just finished her," he answered softly. "Such a sweet little thing, too. May she sleep peacefully."

William settled the coffee on a table to the side as Undertaker removed his apron and washed his hands. When the elder joined him, the sadness still lingered in his eyes but his lips quirked slightly.

"Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your fine company and of this fine coffee?" He asked, accepting the cup William offered him.

William sipped his own as Undertaker added a handful of sugar cubes to his. "Ronald Knox," he stated, gauging the elder's reaction.

The sadness flared a bit. "Oh?" He asked.

William smiled at him. "It was his way of apologizing for insulting me last night," he told him. "I say he is quite forgiven."

An elegant silver eyebrow rose at that. "Is he now?"

"Indeed," William purred around the cup. "He's back in my good graces and, I hope, yours as well?"

Undertaker glared at him through slits in his eyes. "Damn that demon," he grumbled. "He told you, did he?"

"That you cut your lover off from sexual gratification because he insulted a member of your family?" He grinned. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"Did he coerce Ronnie into apologizing?" He asked.

"No. That Knox did of his own volition," William stated gently. He set his cup down. "Knox has had a hell of a day, Sir. I dare say he needs you as much if not more as you need and miss him."

Concern filled the elder reaper's eyes. "What happened?" He asked.

"He had his first suicide today."

"Oh, my poor Ronnie," Undertaker whispered sympathetically. His eyes met William's. "How'd he handle it?"

"As poorly as the rest of us, though better than most," he stated kindly. "At least it wasn't a Mirror."

"Small kindnesses," Undertaker murmured.

"Indeed," William agreed, pouring another cup for them both. "You care for him, Sir. Welcome him back with open arms."

"He left on his own, William," the elder told him, a touch of regret in his voice. "I did not force him to go."

"He's a stubborn lad," William said fondly. "Reminds me a bit of myself, actually."

"Nah, my Ronnie is nothing like you," Undertaker smirked, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "He's not the boring type."

William glared at him, eyebrow twitching slightly. "Many dicks, Sir; eat them," he snapped.

Undertaker cackled at that. "I'd prefer just the one, thank you," he answered with a soft smile. "I'll search him out once I finish with my guests and see if we can't reconcile."

"Brilliant," William sighed. "I don't think the silence that would come from your rooms would be conducive to a restful night. We've become accustomed to the noise, Sir."

A soft chuckle answered him. "Trust me when I say it is my pleasure to help sing you to sleep."

William smirked. "Letch."

"Only in the best of ways, my dear."

Undertaker carefully removed what remained of Matthew Richard's brain, trying to preserve what he could of the remnants of his skull.

"You're not making this very easy for me, my dear," he grumbled. "Why the head? A shot to the heart would have done you in as quickly and I could have easily concealed that hole beneath a lovely double-breasted suit. You only have so much hair I can use to try and cover this gaping wound. Silly twat. I have half a mind to come out of retirement and train you myself for this. You'll not like it, I'll wager. I was quite the strict instructor during my time with the Dispatch.

"And you can forget about collections, Lad. I may even recommend you for the Administrative Division. Push some papers for an eternity. It would serve your right for making me deal with this—ah, bugger. There goes the rest of your temporal bone."

Undertaker huffed in frustration, tossing his scalpel into the tray next to his guest. "I apologize, my dear; but it has been an exhausting day and your disintegrating cranium is the last thing I wish to be dealing with," he grumbled. The silver-haired man removed his gloves and apron before moving to wash his hands. "I think a small break is in order, Mr. Richards. I'll not be doing you justice working on you in the state I'm in."

A longsuffering sigh escaped his lips as the ringing of his shop bell echoed to the back room. "A moment, please," he called out, laying a white sheet over Michael Richard's body. He pulled his hair down over his face and made his way to the front of the shop. "How may I help…mmm, you."

Ronald Knox swayed on his feet before him. "'ello, Sir," he slurred, steadying himself against the door. "'m sorry for, uh, being here, but I…I needed to see you."

Undertaker pushed his hair back from his face, pinning it in place once again. He walked passed Ronald and locked the door to his shop, peering into the pitch black street. "I didn't realize how late it was," he said in an exhausted tone. "I've been at it all day, it seems." He pulled out his pocket watch as he settled a reassuring hand on Ronald's shoulder, pushing him further in. "Half passed eleven. Well passed time for supper. Come, Mr. Knox; I'm in need of sustenance and I believe we both require company."

"'m in need of sobering, Sir," Ronald slurred, shuffling his feet as he was ushered into Undertaker's kitchen.

The elder smiled gently. "Caffeinated fortification it is then," he replied, taking down a can of coffee beans. "A strong pot of coffee should to the trick for both of us, my dearest."

Ronald paused at that, a small whimper escaping his lips. "Am I still your dearest?" He asked in a small voice. Blurry green eyes fixated on Undertaker's startled expression, the silver-haired reaper filling the percolator with water. "I noticed how you call the others 'my dear', but me; you call me 'my dearest'. Am I still, Sir?"

Undertaker turned on the stove to start the coffee before turning back to Ronald. He placed a gentle hand on the younger man's cheek, his own flushing as Ronald leaned into the touch. "Oh, my Ronnie," he whispered gently, thumb stroking along his flesh. "Of course you are, my dearest."

Tears fell unbidden from intoxicated green eyes. Ronald's fists clutched at Undertaker's shirt, his face buried in his chest. "I'm sorry, Sir," he sobbed into the fabric. "I'm sorry for everything."

Strong arms wrapped around the younger reaper, pulling him into the elder's chest protectively. "No more than I am, Ronnie," Undertaker murmured against his ear, pressing a kiss to his hair. "Gone from me for but a day and the sorrow I felt at your absence was nearly debilitating. How have you affected me so monumentally in such a short time, hm?"

Ronald blinked, confusion etched on his face. "Small words, please, Sir," he said with a slight grin. "I didn't catch much of that."

Undertaker grinned and tilted Ronald's chin up, looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes. "I missed you, my dearest," he told him simply, lips slowly closing over those of the younger man in a chaste kiss. Another whimper greeted his ears, Ronald attempting to deepen the kiss. Undertaker still his movements, grasping his shoulders gently. "Milk and sugar in your coffee?"

Ronald blinked again as he was guided to a chair at a small table. "What?" He asked, shaking his head slightly.

"Perhaps black to start with," Undertaker murmured, setting cups and saucers, sugar and milk on a tray and bringing it to the table. He found some dog bone shaped biscuits and plated them, turning to set them next to the rest. Once the coffee was finished, he strained it into a pot, bringing it carefully to the table before taking a seat across from Ronald. He poured the coffee into the cups and began sugaring his own. "A cup of black coffee first, Ronnie. That will help bring you back to yourself a bit."

Ronald took a long drink, pulling a disgusted face. "Bleh. How William-sempai can drink it like this is unreal," he muttered, taking another sip.

Undertaker grinned and bit into a biscuit. "Finish it up and then you can have some more with milk and sugar," he said around the biscuit in his mouth.

Ronald looked up at him and snorted, hastily pulling the cup away from his lips. He set it down as he coughed in between laughter.

The elder arched a silver eyebrow, chewing the bite in his mouth. "What's so funny?" He asked, stirring his coffee with a long fingernail.

"The biscuit looked like you had a cock in your mouth, complete with bollocks hanging out!" He laughed, wiping at the coffee that had dribbled down his chin.

Undertaker examined the biscuits, grinning as he did. "I suppose they could look like that," he agreed with a cackle. He bit into another one, causing Ronald to giggle again. "Tasty though."

"Why that shape, though?" Ronald asked, reaching for one. "Why dog bones?"

A low chuckle escaped Undertaker's lips. "For her majesty's pooch," he said with a smirk. "Earl Phantomhive comes to me for information, so I toss him a bone."

Ronald laughed as he finished off his first cup of coffee. Undertaker poured him a second, then a third. By the fourth cup, the giggles had stopped and the sober reality hit the younger reaper again. "Damn it," he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

Undertaker patted his hand. "It's happened to all of us, my dearest," he said reassuringly. "The first suicide is the hardest."

Ronald arched an eyebrow, straightening his glasses. "You know?" He asked is disbelief. Undertaker nodded. "How?"

"William stopped by after," he explained. "He told me you had your first and that you had apologized for insulting him last night. We shared the coffee you gave him and had a nice chat."

Ronald rubbed at his neck sheepishly. "He tell you I broke down crying when it happened?" He asked lowly.

"Ronnie," Undertaker said firmly, grasping his hand in his. "It happens to all of us. Some of us react worse than others. Some faint dead away, others go into shock. Of the tales I've heard and experienced, you handled yours quite well." He brought the younger man's hand to his lips and kissed it as he held it. "I'm impressed."

Cheeks flushed crimson as green eyes widened in shock. "Impressed?" He squeaked out. "O-of me?!"

"Quite impressed, my dearest," Undertaker assured him. He shook his head. "He's quite a mess. The sight of him affected me, even after all these years."

Ronald stiffened. "They brought him to you?" He asked.

"Of course," the elder replied. "I am the undertaker for this town."

"Good gods, is he here now?!"

Undertaker nodded slowly. "In the back," he answered softly. "I was working on him when you arrived."

Ronald slumped down in his chair. "Oh, fuck me," he grumbled, rubbing his hands over his eyes again. "Are you—are you finished with him?"

"Not yet," he answered. "You've kept me busy today, Ronnie. I've worked on all of your collections today. As soon as I got the little girl, I started on her. She was still warm. If I can get them like that, it's easier to color them to look like they're just sleeping. I left the other two until I finished her. Now, I'm working on Mr. Richards."

Ronald chugged the rest of his coffee, wincing as it scalded his throat. "Would it be in bad taste if I asked to see him?" He asked softly. Undertaker arched an eyebrow. "I just-I need to remind myself he's just a dead man. He's nothing to be… afraid of."

The mortician nodded and gathered up the dishes, setting them on the counter. "Of course," he said gently, leading the way into his back room. Taking up his apron and gloves again, Undertaker moved toward the sheet covered corpse. "If it gets to be too much for you…"

"Right," Ronald agreed with a nod. "Do you what you must. I'll just, watch."

Undertaker pulled the sheet back, revealing the body. Ronald remained where he was, watching silently. Picking up his scalpel again, Undertaker set to finishing what he started, piecing back together the shattered skull of the deceased.

"What are you doing?" Ronald asked, moving closer to get a better look.

"Trying to reconstruct his temporal bone," Undertaker murmured, reaching for an adhesive. "Without it, the structural integrity of the cranium is jeopardized. Now, that means nothing to him; but to his loved ones, they don't want to see his head drooping. My job is to make the dead look less dead. I strive for a peaceful slumber. With Mr. Richards, the trajectory of his shot basically shattered the exit point of his skull. He's a challenge to say the least. I'll have to piece together the bone and then stitch the flesh. After that, I'll try to cover it with what hair I can salvage. Sometimes, it can't be helped and the wounds show. There are only so many roses I can use fill a coffin to cover up a head wound, you see."

Ronald looked at the man on the table. "Aside from the huge hole in his head, he looks normal," he said. "So the exit wound is the problem, not where he shot himself?"

Undertaker lifted the hair on the entry point. "Small bullet hole," he said, showing the stitching. "A bit of make-up will cover that, along with his hair. The path the bullet took along with its exit point are the issues. What was left of his brain was a complete disaster. I removed it, along with the rest of his organs. Now, I think if I can set the bone into place with this adhesive, Mr. Richards, you should look right as rain."

Ronald smiled as he watched Undertaker work. "You speak to them as you work on them?" He asked.

"Of course," Undertaker told him, eyes straining as he squinted at the wound. "They are my guests. What kind of host would I be if I didn't engage them in conversation, my dearest?" He pulled back and rubbed at his eyes with his arm. "Drat. I'll not be able to do this without them, it seems. Ronnie, would you be a dear and fetch my glasses off my desk, please?"

Ronald turned, seeing a set of familiar frames sitting on the desk. He took them up reverently before handing them over. "Those are the same glasses on your statue… whoa."

Undertaker had placed the glasses on his face, returning to his work. "I've had the same specs for centuries, Ronnie; they suit me. I don't wear them all the time because, quite frankly, I don't need them. Up close like this, though; it helps. I owe it to my guests to give them my very best work."

Ronald settled down on a stool and simply watched as Undertaker finished working on Matthew Richards. It took another hour, but the skull was reconstructed and the skin stitched together. His hair was combed in such a way that the majority of the wound was covered. Once he appeared to be sleeping, Undertaker rolled one of his coffins next to his work table, sliding the slab that held the body and settling him comfortably into the rich cherry wood.

"There you are now, Mr. Richards," he said softly, straightening out his hair. He patted his cheek affectionately. "I'm sure we'll be making your acquaintance in the near future. Until then, get a bit of rest. The overtime you'll be facing can be quite daunting."

Ronald watched as the top of the coffin was settled over the body. "He doesn't even look like he killed himself," he stated in awe. "He could have died from heart failure the way he looks."

"Then I've done my job," Undertaker said with a weary sigh as he finished cleaning up his work table, setting his tools in antiseptic fluid. He removed his gloves and apron, putting them in a laundry bag to be picked up. "I feel the need for a shower."

"Understandable," Ronald said with a nod as he rose from the stool. "I should probably head home."

Undertaker took out his pocket watch again. "It's rather late, my dearest," he told him. "You are more than welcome to stay here tonight."

Ronald hesitated. "I didn't know if you would want me to," he answered. "After, you know, everything."

Undertaker sighed and stepped toward him, lacing their fingers together. "I never wanted you to leave," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together. "You did that on your own."

"I regret it," Ronald said, squeezing the other's fingers. "I should have just stayed."

"You can now."

A slow smile spread across the younger man's face as he nodded. "Okay," he said, bringing his lips up to meet those of his lover. The kiss they shared was slow and full of longing, lacking the desperation of their previous kisses, yet none of the heat.

"Whatever you need from me tonight, my dearest, take it," Undertaker murmured against Ronald's lips. "Comfort, companionship, intimacy; if I have it to give, it is yours."

Ronald chuckled softly. "All of those and more, please, Sir," he whispered in reply. "Right now, I'd love to share a shower with you, if I may."

"Mm, you may, Ronnie; you may," Undertaker purred, taking his hand and leading the way upstairs to his living quarters.

Ronald smiled as he took in the room. He gestured toward the bed in the center. "I thought you slept in the coffins in your shop," he said with a cheeky grin.

Undertaker cackled. "Sometimes, I do," he admitted. "I have to make sure they are comfortable for my guests' eternal slumber, after all. However, if I stay at my shop, which is a rarity these days, I usually sleep in an ordinary bed."

Ronald kicked off his shoes and began removing his clothing. "Won't the others be expecting you back at Grell-sempai's?" He asked. "I don't want to get in any more trouble with your family keeping you away from them."

Undertaker cocked his head in thought as he began disrobing as well. "I think Mr. Michaelis will be fine with my absence this evening," he answered. "Miss Sutcliff is healing nicely now; there is no threat to her life anymore."

"Was he that bad?" Ronald asked in disbelief. "The boss said it was just a scratch."

The elder reaper scoffed. "Leave it to Mr. Spears to down play it," he snickered. "Though considering you are only newly privy to the dynamics of their relationship, it is rather understandable. Yes, Ronnie; it was that bad. Miss Sutcliff was run through with her own death scythe. It was a close thing, to be sure; but she is safe and well and healing quite wonderfully."

Ronald began unfastening his belt, sliding his pants down his legs. "I'm glad," he said honestly. "I really like that guy. He's a good person."

The younger reaper felt the long nails of his lover trailing over his hips, helping to push his undergarments down. "Miss Sutcliff is a lovely person indeed, my dearest," he agreed, pulling Ronald's back against his chest. "I do hope you like the water hot."

"Mm, yeah," Ronald breathed out, resting his head back against Undertaker's shoulder. "It was cold today. I need to get warmed up."

The silver-haired reaper reluctantly released Ronald's hips and led the way to the bathroom. "Not as nice as what I've been given at Miss Sutcliff's, but it will do," he murmured, turning the knobs to heat the water. "Perhaps tomorrow night, we can shower at her manor."

Ronald watched as his lover took the glasses from his face and set them on the counter. "You want me with you tomorrow night, too?" He asked.

"Tomorrow, the next day, as long as I can keep you," he answered, purring as the warm water caressed the skin of his arm. "I did warn you I have a tendency to keep little oddities I fancy."

The younger reaper started as Undertaker reached for his glasses. "May I?" He asked gently.

Ronald swallowed hard and nodded, watching as the world around him lost focus. He felt Undertaker guide him into the shower, moaning when the hot water hit his skin, his lover's hands caressing over his body, up to his neck and scalp. Ronald whimpered at the feel of those long nails running through his hair as he was pulled into the spray of the water.

Slender hands moved from his hair to his cheeks, caressing his face lovingly. The elder reaper smirked before leaning in to claim Ronald's lips with his.

Blinded green eyes closed as the younger reaper's fingers threaded themselves into impossibly long, silver locks. His fingers hit a snag, pulling at Undertaker's hair, causing a pleasure filled hiss to escape his lips. A slow smile spread across the younger man's face as he tugged again, lips still sliding over those of his lover. The moan that accompanied that action sent a jolt of lust straight to Ronald's dawning erection.

"I love discovering your kinks, Sir," Ronald whispered into his breath. "Is it just the pulling or is it your hair in general?"

"J-just the hair in general, my dearest, though I do love a good hard yank when in the moment," Undertaker cackled, his hands trailing themselves down to Ronald's hips and pulling him against his own. "One can get a good grip at the nape on just about any length of hair, but with hair as long as mine—nngh!"

Ronald grinned triumphantly as he pulled the silver strands hard, his lover's hips grinding into his own as a result. "Mm, Sir," He moaned out, moving his hips slowly against him, relishing in the feel of those long nails digging into the flesh of his hips as their lengths rubbed against each other. He reached for a bottle and brought it up to his face, squinting to see what it was. Satisfied it was soap, he poured some into this hands, the apple scent wafting to his nose, before burying his hands into Undertaker's hair, rubbing soothingly at his scalp.

The elder reaper's knees all but buckled.

Deft fingers moved down the length of the silver strands, gently working out the braid on the right side of his head, lathering as he went. Ronald worked back up, gripping the hair at Undertaker's nape and yanking his head to the side so he could nibble at his neck, mindful of the demon's mark upon his shoulder. His lover's grinding continued, his harsh panting filling the small space of the shower.

"Mm, Ronnie," Undertaker purred, nails trailing up the younger reaper's sides. "Care if I return the favor?"

The lust-filled look his lover gave him nearly undid the silver-haired man. "I'm not finished with you yet, Sir," he answered.

Undertaker's breath hitched as Ronald proceeded to run his soap covered hands over every inch of his scarred body, lathering his skin and lingering on his erogenous zones. His chest and abdomen were covered in a layer of bubbles, as was the rounded globes of his ass. A shiver ran through his body as he felt Ronald's hands trail over his cleft reverently before moving to take his cock in hand. Slick fingers rubbed and stroked over him, squeezing his length as they moved. Undertaker's hips moved of their own volition, thrusting into the tight circle Ronald's hands had formed around him.

"Hah—my dearest," he warned, voice strained as he looked down at his lover. "If you keep that up, I'll—nngh!"

Green eyes glazed over in lust as Ronald gripped both Undertaker's shaft and testicles, stroking them firmly. "You'll cover me in your come?" He asked breathlessly. "I would like that very much, Sir."

"Would you?" He panted.

"Yes," Ronald answered, squeezing his lover's erection hard as his hand slid up to the tip. "Please do it, Sir."

Undertaker's nails gripped onto Ronald's shoulders as his hips thrust into his hands. Ronald's strokes were maddening as they slid over the erect flesh. The mortician moaned, long and low as he felt his testicles draw up, biting down into Ronald's neck as he came hard on his stomach, his seed dripping down to his lover's straining erection. Gasping in breath, Undertaker's tongue lapped gently against Ronald's bleeding flesh, basking in the tremors that ran through him as his lover continued stroking him gently.

"Mm, now you're dirty, Ronnie," Undertaker purred, running his nails down the younger man's torso, spreading his seed over his skin. The pleased grin that spread over the elder's lips would have been frightening to anyone else. To Ronald, however, it sent heat pooling to his lower abdomen. "Now. It's my turn."

"Yes, Sir," he gasped out before his mouth was claimed by the other's, the fierceness of the kiss leaving him trembling.

"I believe I wish to dirty you more before I clean you, my dearest," Undertaker groaned into his ear as he turned his body, pulling Ronald's back against his front and gripping his cock firmly. "My come is still covering your handsome cock. Let's coax yours out with the aid of my own, shall we?"

Ronald felt his entrance twitch as his lover's recently spent member nudged against him, Undertaker's hand grasping around his erection firmly. Those long fingers glided over him, nails scraping against his testicles as they moved to his base. Ronald reached back with his left hand, threading his fingers through his lover's silver locks and tugging hard. Undertaker growled, biting again into the mark he had left on Ronald's neck. A gasp of pleasure followed by a long, low moan filled Undertaker's ears as his young lover pressed his ass more firmly against his hips. He slid his free hand down his back to grip his ass, teasing over his cleft with his long nails.

"Here, too, my dearest?" He purred, pleased when Ronald's legs spread a bit wider, allowing him to finger over his tight pucker.

"Please, Sir," Ronald whimpered, pressing his ass into those fingers. He gasped when one long nailed finger slid into him, slick from his lover's seed. "Fuck yes."

"Are you empty, Dearest?" Undertaker cooed, his hand around Ronald's cock, pumping steadily. "Do you need me to fill you again?"

Desperate whines were escaping from Ronald's lips as the young reaper was worked over by his lover. "Gods, yes!" He nearly shrieked.

Undertaker worked another finger inside Ronald's body, feeling his own awakening yet again. "It would be my pleasure, my love," Undertaker purred, working his fingers hard inside him, nails scraping against Ronald's sweet spot.

Ronald bit his lip as he felt his release hit him, bucking hard into his hand as he coated Undertaker's fingers with his release, yanking at the long silver hair in his grip. "Mm, Sir," he moaned, gasping in air desperately. He felt the hardness of his lover's erection pressing into his hip, moaning in want as Undertaker's fingers still worked inside him.

Undertaker released his member, bringing his coated hand up for Ronald to see. "A mix of both of us, my dearest," he murmured, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean.

Ronald's blurry eyes glazed over in lust as he licked his lips. Undertaker's pinky and ring fingers were sucked into the younger reaper's mouth, the elder moaning as their tongues danced across his digits. As he pulled his now clean hand away, he claimed Ronald's lips with his own desperately. Mid kiss, he reached for the apple scented soap and began lathering up Ronald's hair and body, running his soapy hands over himself as well to clean off their seed.

A soapy hand on his shaft caused him to shiver and pause. Looking down at Ronald, he was greeted with a devious grin. "Need another wanking, Sir?" He asked with a wink.

"Thank you, but no," the elder reaper replied, pulling them back into the spray of the cooling water to rinse the soap away. "I'd rather bury myself in your tight ass and fill you so full of my come, it pours out of you, Dearest."

Ronald whimpered at that, running his hands through Undertaker's hair to ensure all of the soap had been rinsed away from the long locks. "Gods, but that sounds so much better," he moaned, shutting off the water and shaking his hair out. "Give me a minute and I'll be good to go."

Undertaker cackled as he reached for two towels, drying Ronald's face and hair before he placed the young reaper's glasses back on his face. "No rush, Love," he said sweetly, drying his body and then wrapping the towel around his hair. He stepped out of the shower and took Ronald's hand, guiding him out before taking up a comb. Gesturing to his head, he grinned. "It'll give me time to deal with this."

Ronald wrapped his towel around his waist, watching as Undertaker took his hair down from the towel and began running the comb through it. Moving toward the fireplace, Ronald tossed another log in to get the flames going again.

"Grell-sempai told me he used the fire to dry his hair," he said sheepishly. "You know, before he cut it."

Undertaker moved toward the fire and kissed Ronald sweetly. "Thank you, my dearest," he purred, sitting by the hearth. "However, Miss Sutcliff didn't cut her hair. The demon who attacked her hacked it off with her death scythe. Mr. Michaelis trimmed it up into the fetching cut she has now."

"Damn, poor Grell," Ronald said, sitting behind Undertaker and taking the comb from him. He began detangling the long locks, running the comb through slowly to allow the fire to dry them. "He loved his hair."

Undertaker shivered at the feel of his lover's hands combing through his hair. "She's still a beauty, though," he said thoughtfully. "Her hair length matters little in that regard."

Ronald paused a bit before continuing with his task. "You think Grell is beautiful?" He asked softly.

"Undoubtedly," Undertaker chuckled. "She's a beautiful lady, gracious and kind. And perfectly mated to Mr. Spears and Mr. Michaelis."

"Kinda sounds like you want him," Ronald said quietly.

"I did," he answered truthfully, glancing over his shoulder at his lover. "Until I found someone who suited me much better."

Ronald blushed as Undertaker turned toward him, placing his hand on his thigh. The younger reaper ran his trembling hands through the drying hair, taking up a section above his lover's right ear and braiding it. Undertaker's eyes fluttered as he released a shaking sigh.

"I love your hair," Ronald whispered reverently, as he tied off the braid and ran his fingers through the locks again.

Undertaker moaned, scalp tingling pleasantly. "Thank you, my dearest," he replied, leaning in to kiss Ronald's lips. "I absolutely love the feel of your hands in it."

Ronald's nails scraped along Undertaker's head, pulling through the locks as he deepened the kiss. A hiss escaped him as his towel opened and his lover straddled his lap, lips still slanting over his own. Silver hair danced around them as Undertaker started to undulate his hips against Ronald's, grinning as he felt the hardening length against him.

"Your minute is up, Ronnie," he cackled, moaning as he felt his lover's length tease over his own entrance. "Mm, and so are you."

Ronald nearly choked as his hands shot down to the silver-haired man's hips. "Hah! Sir!" He moaned.

Reaching inside the drawer of the table beside the bed, Undertaker produced a bottle of oil. Lifting himself up slightly, he poured the oil onto the head Ronald's shaft, spreading it over him with his fingers. Ronald moaned loudly, thrusting up into his lover's hand, lips parted as he gasped.

Undertaker positioned himself above Ronald's erection and slid down slowly, cackling triumphantly as he was impaled thoroughly. "Gods, what a fit, Ronnie," he moaned, rocking his hips against him. "I thought you felt good around me, but inside me; mm, both are perfect."

"I can't think, I can't think," Ronald was panting, fingers flexing in Undertaker's flesh. "Oh my gods, I'm inside you!"

"Mm, and you feel glorious," Undertaker purred, kissing him deeply as he thrust his hips back, shuddering at the feel. "Nngh, so glorious."

Ronald bit down on the elder reaper's lip, thrusting up into that tight heat. "Oh, fuck me, Sir," he moaned out.

Undertaker cackled again, leaning back to look into his lover's lust hazed eyes. "Oh, I will, my dearest," he purred, sliding up and then slamming back down, head thrown back as his sweet spot was struck, moaning in unabashed desire. "After you fuck me full."

Ronald growled at that, nails digging into his lover's hips so hard they broke the skin. "Full?" He whispered, grasping a handful of Undertaker's hair and pulling his head to the side to bear his throat before he savagely attacked it. "Gods, yes, I'll fuck you full."

Undertaker whimpered as his hair was pulled, eyes rolling into the back of his head in bliss. He ran his long nails down Ronald's chest, scraping them over his nipples as he rolled his hips in time with the younger reaper's thrusts.

"Gah, fuck!" Ronald hissed, sliding forward off the hearth and settling them on the floor in front of it. He flipped Undertaker over to his hands and knees before slamming into him savagely, hips pistoning in and out of him fiercely.

"Mm, Ronnie, yes," Undertaker purred, gasping when he felt his lover grab his hair and pull. He startled when his head was pushed into the floor, his arms brought behind him and tangled up into the length of his hair. He felt heat pool to his shaft at that, his hair acting as his own bondage. "Gods!"

Face to the floor, ass in the air, Undertaker was happily pounded into by his young lover. "Fucking tight," Ronald snarled, grip tightening on his hips as he neared his end. "Never thought—gah—never thought I'd get to do this to you, Sir!"

Undertaker cried out as his sweet spot was struck hard. "Gods, Ronnie, there!" He exclaimed brokenly. "Again! H-harder!"

Ronald complied, hitting that same spot repeatedly, reaching beneath his lover to stroke his erection in time with his thrusts. "Gods, Sir. Please come for me. I'm so damn—aah HAH!"

Warm, wet fluid coated Ronald's hand as his erection was squeezed in a vice-like grip, the tremors wracking his lover's body pulling his own release from him with a shout of completion. "Oh, fuck," he panted out, leaning heavily over Undertaker's body. "Oh, fuck me; that was…mm."

Undertaker chuckled and breathed in deeply. "I agree wholeheartedly, my dearest," he purred. "Very 'mm'."

Ronald laughed and kissed his back, untying his arms and pulling out of him. He helped the elder reaper to sit upright again, rubbing over his wrists gently. Grinning sheepishly, he kissed the other tenderly. "Thank you, Sir," he said softly.

"Mm, anytime, my dearest," Undertaker replied, kissing him back. "I enjoyed that."

A soft blush colored Ronald's cheeks. "Uh, I'm glad," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. I'm not used to being in, uh, that position."

"Oh?" Undertaker asked with a sly smile. "Was I your first?"

"Uh, no," Ronald chuckled. "Definitely my favorite though."

"Oh good," the mortician purred, rising gingerly to his feet.

Ronald snatched up the oil on the hearth as he watched him move, lust filling his eyes as Undertaker bent over to pick up his towel, revealing his thorough fucked and dripping entrance as he did so. "My gods, that's hot as fuck," he moaned, crawling toward the other man.

Undertaker felt as Ronald grasped at him, guiding him toward the bed. "Ronnie?" He asked, moaning as he felt his lover's hands trailing over his ass.

"Can I see, Sir?" He pleaded urgently. "Can I see what your asshole looks like after I fucked it?"

A deep growl of appreciation rumbled in Undertaker's chest. "Mm, of course, my dearest," he acquiesced, kneeling on the bed and lowering his chest to the mattress. He reached behind himself and spread his cheeks wide. "There you are, my dear Ronnie. Is this what you wished to see?"

"Yeah," he whispered, eyes taking in the puckered flesh, weeping out the seed that had been spilled inside. "Gods, yes."

Undertaker's chuckle quickly turned to a shuddering gasp as he felt Ronald's hot, wet tongue lap over his entrance. He moaned, shivering in desire as that tongue plunged in to his opening, Ronald's hands settling over his own as they held him opened. Long, black nails dug into his own flesh as the elder reaper trembled in want, hips thrusting back slowly on the muscle inside him.

Green eyes blinked, refocusing on the body in front of him. "I can't get enough of you, Sir," Ronald murmured, kissing over his exposed backside. "Everything about you, every part of your body, I want it. I fucking crave you."

Undertaker gave a strained laugh, moaning midway through. "I daresay the mild obsession has grown then?" He asked sweetly. "And all in a day, too."

Ronald released his lover's hips and fingers, rolling the other man onto his back. The younger reaper crawled over to him, sitting on his knees beside him, smirking as he opened up the oil and poured some over his fingers. "Hero worship turned to obsessive masturbation," he moaned out, taking his fingers and working them in to his own entrance. "Assignments forgotten, reports tossed aside as I read and researched every fucking little thing I could about you." Ronald turned his body so Undertaker could watch him finger himself open for him, head turned and glancing over his shoulder at the silver-haired death god beside him. "My extensive knowledge of your life and career are the only things that let me graduate; that and the fact that I can reap a soul like a rabid demon. My final paper was on you, Sir. My mild obsession earned me the highest grade in my class."

Undertaker sat up, taking the oil and slicking up his own erection as he watched Ronald work himself over. He grasped Ronald's free hand, grinning as he poured more oil onto it and moved it toward the lad's own member. "Show me how you fucked yourself under my statue, my dearest," he urged, moving to his knees to settle behind him.

Ronald bit his lip as he stroked himself, adding yet another finger into his body. "Please don't leave me empty, Sir," he begged, whimpering as he felt an arm wrap around his chest.

"Mm, I won't, Ronnie," he promised, kissing at his bite mark. "Tell me what you know about me, you little stalker."

Ronald gave a broken-hearted laugh at that. "I only recently knew where to find you, otherwise, I would have been a true stalker," he moaned, thrusting onto his own fingers. "A-as it is, I know you reaped tens of thousands of souls during your career, including Robin Hood and Marie Antoinette."

"Common knowledge," Undertaker scoffed, grinding his erection against Ronald's hip. "That doesn't warrant a stellar grade, Love."

"Nngh! Y-you single-handedly reaped the victims of the Black Plague!" He stuttered out. "As quickly as they dropped, you had them collected!"

Undertaker chuckled. "I had a bit of help with that one," he grinned. "None from my colleagues at the Dispatch, though." He bit at the younger reaper's ear, trailing his hand down to join Ronald's fingers within his stretched entrance. "How deep did you delve into my life, Ronnie?"

Ronald was panting, his glasses slipping down his nose with his erratic movements. "I c-could never find solid proof, but read about several allegations that you were in league with a demon during your time as a reaper."

Undertaker purred against his neck. "Ooh, you know about that, huh?" He cackled.

"You questioned the validity that death was the end of everything."

"What an exemplary student you are, Mister Knox," he moaned, pulling his and Ronald's fingers from the two-toned reaper's entrance and pushing his erection in smoothly. "What else do you know about me?"

Ronald nearly screamed as Undertaker snapped his hips and hit his sweet spot hard. "Unh! Y-you have a long ass cock that's harder than f-fuck and, gods, do you know how to use that son of a bitch! I want to be stuffed full of that cock—nngh! Gah, oh FUCK!"

Arms were pulled behind his back as he was pounded into, his straining erection now void of any stimulation. "Did you ever dream you'd be at my mercy, Ronald Knox?" Undertaker's voice dripped into his ear. "That I would have you naked and desperate and be just as desperate for you? Every sound you make for me makes me yearn for you, my dearest.

"I've lived thousands of your lifetimes and not once have I found anyone as perfectly suited to me as you are, my love."

A cry erupted from Ronald's lips so full of pleasure, Undertaker had to quickly let go of Ronald's arms to grasp the base of his own erection to keep from releasing at the sound. "Gods, Ronnie," he hissed, thrusting harder into his willing body. He moaned as he felt one of his lover's newly freed hands thread through his hair, pulling his head over Ronald's shoulder to meet in a heated kiss. Grasping Ronald's thigh, he flipped the reaper over, settling him on his back as he continued plunging into him, lips clashing fiercely as both pairs of hands trailed over every inch of the other's body they could reach.

"Harder, Sir," Ronald whimpered, wrapping the long silver strands around his wrists and pulling his hands over his own head. "Let me come just from the feel of your cock filling me."

Undertaker growled, grasping Ronald's hands and lacing their fingers together before biting into the mark he'd left on him earlier. His hips slammed faster and harder into his lover's body, Ronald's spine bowing as he cried out in pleasure. Their lips collided again, Ronald screaming as a particularly brutal thrust sent a stream of semen shooting from his untouched member.

"Oh, fuck me!" He yelled, thrusting back harder onto Undertaker's hips, releasing hard and fast in between their stomachs.

Fresh blood filled his mouth as Undertaker bit into Ronald's neck, he own release erupting from him violently as the muscles around his member quivered and throbbed. Ronald was panting desperately, shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

"Bloody fucking hell," he whispered, bringing shaking hands up to thread through silver locks. "You're bloody perfect, Sir."

Gasping breaths were puffed against his abused flesh as Undertaker pushed himself up on trembling arms to look down into the face of the man beneath him. Tenderness filled his eyes as he pressed their foreheads together. "Can I keep you, Ronnie?" He asked pleadingly.

Ronald choked on a sob, nodding his head furiously. "Yes," he whispered, bringing their lips together and kissing him fiercely, the taste of his blood still lingering on Undertaker's tongue.

Undertaker rolled to his side, staying seated within the younger man as they continued their kiss. Once they broke away, black nailed fingers ran through bi-colored locks tenderly. "You're obsession has proven most advantageous, my dearest," he said with a sated smile. "But we may need to discuss some of the things you know. I would not have others put in danger because of what you know of their association with me."

Ronald gave him a sheepish smile. "There are things I know that were purposefully left out of my paper, Sir," he admitted. "Things I shouldn't have delved in to. Sorry."

"Mm, I hope that we learn all there is to know of each other in the lifetimes to come, Ronnie," he told him tenderly. "You will know it all eventually anyway, hm? No harm." The mortician pulled the younger reaper closer, still nestled inside him. "Tell me more of what you know. What of the demon?"

"No name was listed, but given the nature of your relationship with Mr. Michaelis, I figured it has to be him," Ronald answered, kissing over his neck.

"I've know Mr. Michaelis for longer than I've known anyone," he told him with a nod. "He is as dear to me as a brother."

"I know your true name."

Undertaker smirked. "And you didn't chose to scream it out in your pleasure?" He cackled.

Ronald grinned up at him. "I told you, 'Sir' sounds so much more debauched," he winked.

"Mm, that it does, my dearest," he purred. "Anything else you know that didn't make it into your paper?"

Ronald hesitated. "How you became a reaper," he answered softly.

An elegant silver eyebrow arched, a small flicker of fear flashing in green depths. "Do you?"

"I know you're the product of rape and you drowned yourself when you found out," he whispered. "Your mother hated you for how you came to be."

Undertaker took a deep steadying breath, burying his face in Ronald's hair and gripping at him desperately. "And of my father?" He asked softly. "What do you know of him?"

Ronald shook his head. "I couldn't find anything on him," he answered truthfully. "There was nothing."

"Nor should there be," Undertaker snarled. He breathed in Ronald's scent, letting it wash over him and calm him. "What else?"

"You were offered the chance to ascend but you refused," he told him. "The Higher's could no longer allow you in the ranks of the Dispatch, so they allowed you to retire in a way. A refusal to ascend has never been refused before or since."

"Why the hell would I want to be up there with the Fluffers?" Undertaker cackled. "It's so much more interesting here."

"No kidding," Ronald agreed, whimpering as his lover's flaccid length slid out of him. "Damn it."

"Sorry, love. I can't stay hard forever," he said, kissing him gently as he moved to sit up. "Would you care for some tea, my dearest? I need to go down and check on my guests anyway. You were rather loud."

Ronald nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love some, than—wait a minute!" He sat up and gaped at the grinning face of his lover. "Are you implying, Sir, that I am loud enough to wake the dead?"

"No implication at all, my love," Undertaker cackled as he gave him another peck before leaping from the bed. "I'm flat out saying it."

Ronald glared at him as he laughed out of the room before flopping back on his pillow. He ran a hand over his face, relieved that the man had been so accepting to him mentioning his own death. It was not something Ronald should have delved into, but it had been an accidental discovery. The two-toned reaper grinned, burying his face in his hands. "Gods, I love that cheeky bastard."

Grell bit his lip as he looked over the drawing Sebastian had set before him. "Darling, it's beautiful," he gushed, tracing his fingers over the elaborate detailing. "I never knew you were so artistically gifted."

Sebastian smiled as he reached for Grell's hand and helped him to his feet, leading him over to the mirror. He reached for the buttons of the reaper's shirt and began unfastening them. "It's a talent I've never cared for, really," he mused as he slid the sleeves of the shirt down his lover's arms before moving behind him to unlace his corset. "However, it has proven useful on more than one occasion. I had to replicate the paintings in my young master's mansion, for example. I also created a piece for my true master."

"Oh, I loved that," Grell exclaimed, breath hitching as Sebastian slid his fingers over his now bare flesh. "The flames on the wing looked so realistic."

Sebastian hummed in appreciation as he pulled Grell back to press against him, staring into his eyes in the mirror. "However," he purred into his ear, delighting in the shiver that ran through his lover. "I am more than thankful that I get the opportunity to work your flesh into something that will make my lady feel as beautiful as I and our William have always believed you to be."

Grell gnawed at his lips again as Sebastian's fingers spanned across his lower abdomen. He wished in that moment with all of his heart that his stomach was swollen as it was held in Sebastian's loving hands. "Will it hurt?" He asked softly.

"Mm, a bit," Sebastian answered honestly, kissing at his neck. "Especially since I'll be working over a scar." He caught his eye again, smiling gently. The door to the master bath opened and William stepped out, towel slung low on his hips. "If you have any reservations about it, Darling, please tell me. Don't do this if you think it will make you more attractive to William and I." The dark-haired reaper looked toward them as he heard his name, shaking the water from his hair and placing his glasses back on his nose. "You have already achieved the rank of goddess to us, my lady. If you want it done, let it be for yourself."

"I do want it," Grell told him. "I can't bear the sight of this scar. It is hideous and makes me want to carve out my flesh."

William had joined them, dropping to his knees before the red-head and kissing over his scar, fingers laced with Sebastian's. "Nothing about you is hideous, my lady," he purred. "The choice is yours, though. You are perfection with or without the tattoo."

Grell was trembling, blinking back tears at his lover's attention to his belly. "I hate it," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"Then by all means, let us cover it if it offends you so," Sebastian murmured, rubbing his abdomen gently. Grell whimpered and closed his eyes, pressing his head into the demon's shoulder. Sebastian stared at his lover's reflection, startled as he saw a trail of tears sliding down the red head's porcelain cheeks. "Grell," he began gently. "What is it, Darling? Does the scar still pain you?"

"No!" Grell cried out, grasping his lovers' hands as they held him. "I-I want there to be another reason for you both to be holding me like this! For you to have your arms around me, Nabby, and you to be kissing my belly so lovingly, Will!"

Sebastian blinked as he looked down at William in concern. He then glanced at their reflections again, understanding dawning at the meaning behind the red-head's words. "Oh, my sweet Grell," he whispered sorrowfully into his neck. "Darling, if I could give that to you, I would."

William pressed his lips against Grell's belly again, trying to keep his emotions in check. "You could plant your seed in a barren human female womb and life would thrive; but a seed sown in a pure male body will be sown in futility."

Sebastian smiled gently down at his dark-haired lover. "Verbatim, William," he said proudly. "Gods, what a mind you have. Regretfully, he is correct, my lady. Both William and I would love give that to you."

Grell sobbed as they held him, William's arms wrapping around him to hold him close. "I'm sorry, Grell," he whispered.

"As am I," Sebastian agreed. "My powers can only do so much, my lady; but William and I would gladly give you that gift a thousand times over if we could."

William snickered slightly at that as the red-head balked. Grell's head shot up, fire in his eyes. "If you think I'm having a thousand children for you and William, you are sadly mistaken!" He shrieked. "One, two at the most! I don't want this body to go to hell!"

"Too late for that, Darling," William said with a grin as he rose to his feet and kissed the red-head's marked shoulder. "We're both headed there; though, I've been told it's not that bad. Just a little warm."

"You know what I mean, Spears," Grell hissed. "I've worked hard to be this gorgeous. I don't want to get fat."

Sebastian chuckled at that, turning the red-head gently into his arms and kissing him deeply. "You would be beautiful, fat and full, and carrying our children," he purred. "If there was a way, Grell—"

Grell sighed and kissed him, resigned to their fate. "I know, Darling," he said wistfully. "I know."

"I suppose I could make your belly swell with my cooking," Sebastian mused with a wink.

Grell giggled and rubbed their noses together. "That would just be a food baby," he told him.

"Then I suppose all William and I can do is to keep trying," he murmured against his lips. "And trying and trying, fucking you full night after night. We may get fortunate one day, hmm?"

"I'm good with that," William growled, kissing Sebastian over Grell's shoulder.

"Mm, trying is always fun," Grell said with a sigh, leaning back against William. He smiled. "I apologize, Darlings. Sometimes, the fact that I can't have children really just… pisses me off. Then the cunts who can and don't want them…"

"Hence Jack the Ripper," Sebastian said sympathetically. Grell nodded as the demon kissed his forehead gently. "I understand, my darling."

"As your supervisor, I do not condone your past actions," William stated firmly, gripping the red-head's hips. He kissed behind his ear sweetly. "However, as your lover, I say you and your friend were justified in your actions."

"Quite so," Sebastian agreed with a nod, taking the red-head's hands in his and kissing them. "Now, I believe I already know the answer, but shall I make your roses red?"

Grell wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and kissed him. "Yes, Darling," he said with a grin. "Paint me pretty, pretty red."

Sebastian gripped the red-head's hips, lacing his fingers with William's and returned the kiss. "Would you like to wait for a bit or shall we begin?"

Grell nodded nervously. "If we don't start soon, I may become too anxious and decide not to," he said, looking around. "Where do you want me?"

"Preferably beneath me with your long legs wrapped around my hips," Sebastian purred. Grell giggled at that as he pulled away from his lovers and kicked off his shoes and socks. "However, for the purposes of tattooing your gorgeous body, I believe having you lying on the bed would be the best for now."

"Then once you're done, perhaps you can have me beneath you with my legs wrapped around you," Grell offered with a wink.

"Perhaps your hands and knees would be better then, my lady," Sebastian smirked. "Additional friction to the piece would not be wise."

"And where am I in all of this?" William asked pushing his glasses up his nose in feigned jealousy. "Perhaps downstairs preparing tea?"

Grell giggled as he shimmied out of his pants. "Or behind our demon?" He offered, biting his lip. "I, for one, love it when one of you fucks the other into me."

"Lucifer's tits," William murmured, a soft splash of red coloring his cheeks.

"Mm, Lucifer's tits indeed," Sebastian purred. He cleared his throat. "As I was saying, no friction to the piece. That means no corsets for a day or so, Darling."

The red-head pouted. "Drat," he spat out as he settled on the bed. "Do you need me naked, Darling?"

"Always," Sebastian replied with a low moan as he joined the reaper by the bed, setting up a chair and table for his ink and needles. "For this, however, you can keep the panties on. It will be distracting enough seeing you like this. I don't need any further distractions, Darling, and if you lay before me nude…"

"You'll want to ravish me?" Grell asked, batting his eyelashes.

Sebastian loomed over him, snarling lowly. "I would suck you dry, my lady," Sebastian's deep voice rumbled through his chest, delighting in the aroused moan coming from William.

Grell shuddered at that, whimpering softly. "Fuck me sideways," he whispered, staring into the demon's glowing eyes.

"Gladly, my lady," he replied, shrugging out of his tailcoat and tossing it across an arm chair. William took it up and smoothed it out, hanging it up to keep it pristine. Sebastian smiled gratefully at his dark-haired lover before taking up the drawing and examining it. "I'll have to transfer the drawing to your skin, Darling. First, however, let me sanitize the area."

"Is there anything I could do to assist you, Naberius?" William asked.

Sebastian eyed the reaper before him, admiring the way the towel hung on his hips. "You could offer your hand for our lady to squeeze should he need to, Darling," he offered, saturating a cloth with alcohol before placing in on the red-head's flesh.

Grell hissed as Sebastian rubbed the frigid liquid over his abdomen. "That's cold," he giggled.

"My apologies, Darling," Sebastian said with sincerity, picking up a straight razor and beginning to shave around the area. He teased at Grell's panties. "Perhaps later, I'll shave a little red strawberry above your pretty cock."

William moaned at that Grell giggled again. "Mm, you're a naughty demon," he cooed.

Sebastian patted his thigh affectionately as he settled the razor on the table and took up the drawing. "Would you have me any other way?" He asked with a smile, concentrating on his task.

"Naked and above me with my legs wrapped around you," the red-head smirked.

"Oh, doing this tattoo is going to be a test of my self-control," the demon groaned as he rubbed the transfer onto Grell's skin. "I'm going to be touching you for hours and not be able to do anything about it."

"Could I?" William asked with a suave smile settling a chair beside the bed next to Grell. "I have a pair of capable hands, Darlings. Tell me how you wish them to be used, and I will be more than happy to assist."

Grell purred at that as Sebastian removed the paper transfer from Grell's stomach and drew in a sharp breath. "My gods, this is going to be exquisite," he moaned, picking up his tool and filling it with ink. "Are you ready, Darling?"

Grell reached for William's hand and squeezed it nervously. "Yes," he answered, holding his breath.

"Breathe, Darling," Sebastian ordered, placing the needle against his flesh and beginning the outline. He stopped after the first stroke, gauging the red-head's reaction. "Are you in pain?"

"It stings, but it isn't unbearable," he replied, threading his fingers through William's.

"Tell me if it becomes so," Sebastian said, continuing with his work.

Grell nodded. "William, talk to me," he said, turning his attention to his reaper lover. "Give me something distracting."

William smirked. "Do you wish for me to speak of all the things I wish to do to you and Naberius?" He asked. "Would that be distracting enough?"

"Undoubtedly too distracting and will cause me to mar this perfect flesh with my mistakes, so I would kindly ask you to refrain from such talk for the time, my dear William," Sebastian murmured as he outlined a skull.

"Tell me about your day," Grell said, looking into his reaper lover's eyes.

"Very well," William said, bringing Grell's hand to his lips and kissing it gently. "Let me see. Ah, Knox had his first suicide today."

Grell's eyes widened. "Oh, the poor boy!" He exclaimed. "How is he?"

"As well as can be expected," William replied thoughtfully, watching as Sebastian traced over the outline on Grell's flesh. "Thanks to you, my lady, I have an immensely useful feature in my Master List that gives me a detail of my reapers' actions at all times. It was how we found you so quickly when Grim attacked you. That and Naberius' ability to pinpoint our locations due to the bond. This time, however, it let me know that Knox was in distress. I found him sobbing on the floor of the deceased's flat."

"Poor dear," Grell murmured sympathetically. "Perhaps Unny will make him feel better tonight."

Sebastian glanced up at William as he refilled the ink. "Did you speak to Undertaker, William?" He asked. "Is all well in that situation?"

The red-head blinked, looking from Sebastian to William. "What situation?" Grell asked, confused.

"They had a falling out last night, Darling," William answered before turning his attention back to the demon.

"What kind of falling out?" Grell asked in concern before William could reply to Sebastian's inquiry. "I like them together! They are good for each other!"

"I believe their romance will live to see another day, Darling," William told him, kissing his hand sweetly. "Their falling out was due to me being insulted over Knox calling me boring."

"William T. Spears, if those two do not get back together because of your panties getting in a twist, I will never forgive you!" Grell snapped. "Unny deserves to be happy and so does my dear Ronnie! They are perfect for each other and I will never let you have me in the office again if they are over forever because of you!"

Sebastian chuckled at the deeply distraught look that covered William's face. "I do believe you had best ensure those two find each other again, my love," he said, wiping at Grell's skin.

"Why should I be punished?" William asked helplessly. "I have endeavored to get them back in each other's beds or coffins or whatever manner of fornication platform they prefer."

"See to it that they do," Grell huffed, before looking down at the demon focusing on his abdomen.

"I believe it is taken care of, Darlings," William told them, pushing his glasses up irritably. "I stopped by Undertaker's shop after I took care of Knox and explained to the old chap that the young man had apologized and that I accepted. We shared an excellent pot of coffee, the crazy old bird and I did, thanks to that apology. I received a very nice bag of coffee beans from Knox as a gift. You were right, Naberius. Undertaker is very much taken with him."

Sebastian gave him a thankful smile. "Excellent, Darling," he stated as he reached into his vest pocket and produced his glasses. Looping the chain around his neck, he placed the frames on his nose and set to filling his tool with red ink. "Thank you for taking care of that."

Grell squeezed William's hand fiercely, his breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. William was growling low in this throat, eyes darkened in desire. Sebastian looked up at them over the top of the lenses, frowning at their flushed faces. "I say, Darlings, are you unwell?" He asked, shaking off the excess ink.

"When did you start wearing glasses?" William asked lowly, swallowing hard.

Sebastian took them off his face to inspect them, amused by the pathetic whine that left the red-head. "These?" He asked, placing them back on his nose. "Why, these are simply used for magnification. I thought it best to use them during the detailing of the piece to enhance its aesthetic."

"They enhance your aesthetic, Darling," Grell purred appreciatively.

Sebastian chuckled. "I should have known reapers would have a glasses fetish," he commented as he began on Grell's roses. The red-head yelped and moaned, causing the demon to pull back instantly. "Did I hurt you?" He asked, alarmed.

"N-no," he gasped out, head tilted back and panting. "Well, yes actually, but it wasn't a bad hurt."

Sebastian turned his attention back to his work, leaning across the red-head's lap. He sighed as he noticed the bulge in the silk panties. "Would it be better if I removed the glasses?" He asked in resignation.

"No!" Both of his lover's exclaimed desperately. Sebastian blinked behind the frames, long eyelashes hitting the lenses.

William released Grell's hand and stood up, pushing his own glasses up his nose as he grasped his towel. "I should get some clothes on," he stammered out.

Sebastian smirked. "Must you?" He asked, biting his lip as he caught his eye over his frames.

The dark haired reaper groaned. "Fucking demon tease," he grumbled, turning and dropping his towel as he stalked toward the dresser.

Sebastian's eyes darkened at the sight of his lover's ass, magnified by the lenses. "Fucking reaper tease," he countered lowly, returning to his lady's roses. Grell wiggled and whined. "My lady, if you hold still, I should be able to finish fairly quickly."

William chucked at that as he pulled on a pair of lounge pants. "Darling, neither of us want you to finish quickly," he stated.

Grell giggled slightly at that, trying to hold as still as possible. "Unless he finishes quickly and then fucks us quickly again and again and again," he moaned out, threading his fingers through his own hair and pulling slightly. "Nabby, you really must wear your glasses more often. Preferably while slapping my fingers with a ruler and telling me what I can do to improve my marks."

Sebastian chuckled at that. "For that, I would require you to call me Mr. Michaelis," he replied jovially.

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Michaelis," Grell moaned, cheeks flushed a rosy pink. He trailed his fingernails down his neck and across his chest, eyes closed shut as he toyed with his nipples. Sebastian stopped to watch him, William moaning at the sight of both of his lover's, not sure where to focus his eyes. "I can't look at you right now, Dar-Mr. Michaelis," the red-head moaned. "You are entirely too attractive for me to remain still with those beautiful lenses on your handsome face. Please hurry and finish me off."

"Oh, fuck me," William whispered. He turned to Sebastian, eyes darkened with lust. "How much longer?"

"Honestly, Gentlemen," Sebastian reprimanded, eyes flashing crimson behind the lenses as he continued working. "A bit of glass and metal frames cause you to lose your composure so?"

"Do you not know what you look like in those?" Grell groaned out, head arched back as he stroked over his chest.

"I am well aware," Sebastian answered as he continued working, focusing on the details of the petals. "My young master told me I look like an old, strict, and decrepit headmaster."

"Your young master is a fucking blind twat," Grell snapped, reaching for William as he returned to the bedside. "He wouldn't know true beauty if it slapped him in the face; which I would like to see you do, Nabby. While wearing those glasses, preferably."

"Do you act as tutor to your young master, Naberius?" William asked as he took Grell's hands in one of his to hold him still. The red-head moaned at the loss of stimulation to his body, gasping when William pinned them above his head.

Sebastian stopped working to watch them, eyes glowing in desire. "I have upon occasion, yes," he answered.

"While wearing those?" William snarled lowly.

"It completes the look of a tutor," Sebastian told him, moving to refill his ink. His wrist was stilled as William caught him in his grasp, the reaper's eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'll ask you not to wear these in the presence of anyone but Grell and I," William stated firmly. "Those glasses have the same effect on us as Grell's dresses do on you and I."

Sebastian pulled his wrist free. "Preposterous," he scoffed, finally able to refill his ink with a dark green. "Our lady in a gown is a stunning vision that instantly elicits arousal."

"As does the sight of you in a pair of handsome spectacles," William growled, reaching for Sebastian's free hand and placing it between his legs against his firm flesh. The reaper moaned and bit at his lip at the shocked expression that crossed the demon's face. "I'll ask you again; do not wear those in the presence of anyone but Grell and myself, please."

"Please, Darling," Grell added. "Save this deliciousness just for us."

"You're both being utterly ridiculous," Sebastian chuckled as he began working on the leaves.

"Naberius," William hissed, Grell whimpering desperately and draping an arm over his face and biting at his flesh. Sebastian looked up at them over the tops of his glasses. "I order you to refrain from wearing your glasses in the presence of anyone but Grell and myself. Is that clear?"

A jolt of desire shot to Sebastian's groin at the absolute authority in his beta's voice. He was unable to suppress the shudder that traveled down his spine at the order. "As you wish, my loves," he stated softly, clearing his throat as he continued working on the red-head's abdomen. "Mr. Spears, if you are affected so by the sight of your tutor in his spectacles, why don't you give us a demonstration of the male reproductive organ's ejaculation abilities until I have finished with Miss Sutcliff's art lesson, hm? I'm sure it will be quite," he paused, peering at him over the tops of his glasses once more. "Educational."

Grell whined at that, biting harder into his arm. "Fuck me sideways," he whimpered.

"Miss Sutcliff, that is no way for a lady to speak," the demon reprimanded.

"Yes, Mr. Michaelis," Grell gasped out.

"Mr. Spear's, proceed please."

William's eyes darkened as he shifted in his chair and pushed his lounge pants down, his erection bobbing slightly with the movement. He hissed as Grell trailed his red-tipped nails up his thigh, trembling as his own hand closed over his member and began stroking slowly.

"Hands to yourself, Miss Sutcliff," Sebastian ordered. "You must endeavor to respect the personal space of others."

"I-I don't mind, Mr. Michaelis," William stammered. "Miss Sutcliff is more than welcomed to touch me in any way she chooses."

Sebastian arched an eyebrow and glared at the masturbating reaper. "That is not a decision for you to make while under my instruction, Mr. Spears," he snapped. "Hands off, Miss Sutcliff."

Grell removed his hand and bit harder into his arm, resisting the urge to thrust his hips up, fear of being impaled on Sebastian's inking tool staying his movements.

"Now, Mr. Spears, as your arousal was already heightened by the time you began to stimulate the phallus, you'll find that ejaculation may be quickly achieved," he told him, wiping at the tattoo again. "I'll have to insist you refrain from spilling onto Miss Sutcliff, however. I would not want to risk her incurring an infection due to your poor aim."

"Yes, Sir," William hissed, stroking along his length faster and faster.

Sebastian glanced toward the reaper, eyes flashing magenta in excitement. "As you near climax, your testicles will draw up tighter against your body as you prepare to release," he explained. He leaned in a bit closer. "Ah, as they are doing now. Quite an excellent specimen you are for this particular demonstration, Mr. Spears. When you're ready, then."

William panted as he kept stroking over himself, eyes squeezed shut as he felt the heat pool to his belly. His legs trembled as his hips pushed up into his stroking hand, his free hand gripping the chair of the arm.

"Finished, Miss Sutcliff, and I must say it is an exquisite work of art," Sebastian stated in a pleased tone. He reached a hand out to still William's movements, eyes flashing in sadistic pleasure as the reaper gaped at him in disbelief. "That will do, Mr. Spears. Miss Sutcliff's lesson has reached completion." The bespectacled demon's gaze swept down to William's leaking and straining erection, a look a feigned sympathy in his crimson eyes as he met the reaper's pained expression. "A pity yours didn't."

William whined pitifully at that, stifling a sob of agony as the demon swept his tools and ink up and packed them away.

"Clothing back in order, Mr. Spears," he ordered, taking up an ointment and rubbing it over the trembling red-head's tattoo. "I must say, Miss Sutcliff, this piece is simply stunning on you."

Grell's eyes opened and he looked down at this stomach. His breath hitched slightly and tears filled his eyes as he saw no trace of the disgusting scar. "How lovely!" He exclaimed, looking at the demon. The red-head's pupils widened, his tongue reaching out to lick his lips as he took in his lover's appearance. "Thank you, Mr. Michaelis, for the art lesson."

Sebastian rose to his feet and straightened his glasses, pleased with the attention it garnered him from his mates. "On to mathematics now," he told them, gesturing the table in the center of the room. "Take your seats, students."

Grell scrambled to the table, eagerly sitting at attention while William gingerly made his way to sit next to him. Grell wiggled excitedly in his seat.

"Do try to pay attention, Miss Sutcliff," Sebastian reprimanded.

"Yes, Mr. Michaelis," he said breathlessly.

"Good," he replied. "Now, who can recite Pi to ten digits?"

William's hand shot up in the air.

Sebastian smirked. "Yes, Mr. Spears."

William grimaced, breathing deeply to calm himself. "The answer is 3.141592653…" The dark-haired reaper paused, knowing the sequence perfectly, yet wishing to be disciplined for an incorrect answer. "Eight."

A ruler seemingly appeared out of nowhere and landed smack on William's hand, the cracking sound echoing in the room. "Oh, fuck me," the reaper nearly sobbed, slumping down in his chair.

Grell balked at that. "Gaah, that's not fair!" He nearly shrieked.

"Miss Sutcliff, what is the Pythagorean Theorem?" Sebastian asked.

Grell's cheeks tinted. "A squared plus B squared equals A to the fourth power," he answered incorrectly.

The red-head moaned loudly as Sebastian rapped the ruler harshly across his knuckles. "Incorrect," the demon said shaking his head. He pressed his fingers into his forehead. "My, my. You two have been lax in your studies. Your mathematical marks are atrocious, yet I doubt you can even define that term."

"I'll do anything to get my marks up, Sir," Grell purred.

"I'll do anyone to get my marks up, Sir," William countered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Slut," Grell hissed.

"Honestly," Sebastian snapped indignantly. "To your feet, both of you. Anything, Miss Sutcliff? Anyone, Mr. Spears? Very well. I shall test your sincerity in those claims. Mr. Spears, please strip Miss Sutcliff of her garments."

"M-Mr. Michaelis!" Grell stammered out, feigning being affronted. "I'll have you know, I am a lady, Sir!"

Sebastian stepped up to Grell, pulling himself up to his full height and leering down into reaper green eyes. "Then tell me, Miss Sutcliff, what kind of lady enters a classroom wearing naught but her undergarments and a seductive smile?" He snarled.

Grell's knees all but gave way as William settled behind him and slid the panties off his body, groping his hips as he did so. "Am I to assume Miss Sutcliff is the anyone I'll be doing to get those marks up, Mr. Michaelis?" William asked, breath ghosting over Grell's pale skin, delighting in the shudder than ran through him. "I must admit, I've had my eyes on this luscious red-head from the first day I laid eyes on her. I've wanted her more than my next breath."

Grell moaned and pressed his backside against William's hips, delighting in the feel of his hardened and leaking erection pressing against him.

"No, she won't be," Sebastian smirked. Both reaper's moaned at that, Grell being pulled from William into Sebastian's arms. One hand gripping the red-head's waist, the other running through his hair to caress his face, the demon smiled down at his lover. "For you see, I too, have desired this creature for longer than I care to admit," he purred. He cut his gaze to William, eyes burning a brilliant red. "As I have you, Mr. Spears. Perhaps you two would like to work on a collaboration to raise your marks? A joint project of sorts?"

Grell had turned into putty in the demon's hands, leaning heavily against him as he panted. "Whatever you wish, Mr. Michaelis," he whimpered.

"Agreed," William stated with a nod.

"Excellent," Sebastian all but growled, leaning down to capture the red-stained lips with his own, his tongue slipping into that willing mouth. He paused briefly, pulling back and smiling. "Mr. Spears, clothing off. Now."

William complied immediately, dropping the lounge pants and watching intently as Sebastian thoroughly kissed the red-head.

"As for you, Miss Sutcliff," he purred, nipping at Grell's lips. "Would you be a dear and remove my clothing?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Michaelis," Grell whispered, reaching to pinch open the buttons of the demon's waist coat and shirt.

"Mr. Spears, fetch the oil," Sebastian ordered, hands roaming over the red-head's body, groping over the round globes of his ass and teasing over his entrance. Grell shuddered against him. "I am still partially clothed, Miss Sutcliff. If you wish to raise your marks, your listening skills will need to improve exponentially."

"My apologies, Sir," Grell murmured, fingers deftly going to the belt at his lover's waist, slipping it through the loops and grasping it in his hands. "Perhaps you should use this on me to reinforce the lesson?"

William was returning with the oil and nearly choked at that, stumbling a bit. "Oh, my gods," he growled, eyes darkening in sadistic lust. "That would be brilliant."

"Mm, agreed," Sebastian smirked, taking the belt from Grell's hands, grasping his fingers and pulling him toward William. "Mr. Spears, hold Miss Sutcliff still, please, while I lash her."

William locked the crimson reaper in his arms, shuddering as those long, red tipped nails dug into his back. "Yes, Mr. Michaelis," he replied hoarsely.

"And don't worry, Miss Sutcliff," the demon stated smoothly. "I'll only mark the perfect flesh that is never visible to others."

Grell was trembling as he buried his face against William's chest, tensing in anticipation of the first strike. The sharp crack of the leather hitting his flesh echoed in the room, his sharp cry of pain following swiftly. He felt William's arms tighten around him, blunt nails digging into his skin. The second strike hit, harder this time and he cried out, lethal teeth biting into William's shoulder.

William hissed against Grell's ear, shuddering as the third strike connected with the reddened flesh of his lover, grinding against the red-head's hip.

"Perhaps, Mr. Spears, you would benefit from a spanking as well," Sebastian commented, the authority in his voice nearly causing William's knees to buckle in desire. The demon stalked purposefully around the two reapers, moving to stand behind William. "If you have any strength left, Miss Sutcliff, hold him still."

William's teeth pierced his lip as the leather landed to his backside, causing his already leaking erection to weep more aggressively. He thrust his hips against Grell's, rubbing their members against each other.

"W-Will!" Grell gasped out, his trembling intensifying at the friction.

Another cracking blow to William's ass nearly caused him to spill out.

"You are entirely too easy, Mr. Spears," Sebastian chuckled darkly as he circled the pair. "And, my gods, how eager to spill your seed on our dear Miss Sutcliff. Again, I must insist you refrain due to the elaborate art piece on her abdomen. Now, if you would, release each other." Grell whimpered at that, clawing desperately at William. "Mind your listening skills, Miss Sutcliff," Sebastian reminded.

With a pitiful whine, the red-head released his reaper lover, stepping back from him, shivering at the lack of his body heat.

"Excellent improvement, Miss Sutcliff," Sebastian praised, moving behind William once again and using the belt to bind the reaper's arms behind his back, taking the nearly forgotten oil from his hand. "On your knees in front of Mr. Spears, now."

Grell moaned, knees hitting the softness of the rug as he licked his lips in anticipation.

"Well done," Sebastian purred, finishing with William and dropping to his knees beside the red-head. He threaded one hand through the short, crimson locks, claiming Grell's lips in a slow, searing kiss. Guiding the red-head closer, he released his hair and grasped on to William's dripping member, bringing it to their joined lips. William nearly choked when his lover's mouths released each other and began biting and sucking along his erection together. "You are a quick study in this it seems, Miss Sutcliff," Sebastian moaned out in thinly veiled desire as he ran his tongue over William's testicles. "There is very little I could teach you in regards to sexual education."

He left a love bite on the skin of William's thigh, dangerously close to his member before kissing the red-head again. Pulling back, he positioned Grell to take William into his mouth entirely before moving behind the red-head. The demon pressed his still clothed hips against the crimson reaper's ass, grinding slightly as he reached for his left hand, bringing it over his lover's shoulder to press a kiss to the elegant fingers. Moving Grell's arm forward again, he brought it back behind him, lacing their fingers and pouring the oil over both of their hands to drip over the red-head's entrance. Sebastian guided their hands toward the puckered flesh, pushing their index fingers passed the tight ring of muscle.

"There now, Miss Sutcliff," the demon purred against Grell's ear as he thrust their fingers within him, delighting in both the desperate whine that escaped his crimson lover and the growl of desire coming from William. "Stretch yourself open for me, Miss Sutcliff, while you pleasure Mr. Spears with your mouth."

Grell whimpered again when Sebastian withdrew his fingers and stood to his feet. The demon's shoes and socks were kicked aside as his slacks and undergarments hit the floor. His toned legs carried him to stand behind his dark haired lover, hands trailing over his bound arms and red-tinted ass, the trembling of William's body increasing as Sebastian's nails dug into his sides.

"Shall I fuck you, Mr. Spears?" He whispered, teeth biting into the mate mark on his lover's shoulder. William choked back a scream as he grit his teeth, willing himself not to come yet. "You're a spirited one, aren't you? Incredible virility. I would wager you are nearly insatiable."

Sebastian's oiled fingers slid down the cleft of William's ass, finding his entrance and teasing over it before slipping in. "And tight, Mr. Spears," he moaned against his neck, kissing gently. "My gods, so tight. Is this from the tension to remain in control of your own body while Miss Sutcliff and I wreak havoc on it?"

"P-perhaps," William gasped out.

Sebastian tsked. "Now, now, Mr. Spears," he reprimanded. "Telling falsehoods will do nothing to raise your marks. Well, scholastic marks anyway." His free hand reared back and landed a cracking blow to William's ass, leaving a bright red hand print. "Sweet hell below, but you color nicely, Mr. Spears. Bruises must be exquisite on you. Perhaps that shall be a science project for you to complete, hm? How hard of a strike will leave the most appealing color of bruise to this perfect, round ass?

"Now, I'll ask you once more, Mr. Spears," the demon snarled, plunging three fingers into the reaper and stretching him wider. "Shall I fuck you?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Michaelis!" William nearly shrieked, pushing back on the fingers inside him.

"Excellent," he purred, removing his fingers and slicking up his erection before thrusting into him with a pleased moan. He glanced over William's shoulder to gauge how Grell was doing. The red-head was drooling around William's erection, fingering himself fiercely. "Quite excellent indeed."

The demon's right arm wrapped around William's waist, grasping onto the cropped red hair of the red reaper, pulling firmly. The moan the red-head released caused William's entrance to squeeze tightly around Sebastian's erection. His left hand traveled up his dark haired lover's well-defined chest to clasp around the long column of his throat, just barely squeezing.

"M-master," William choked out, eyes widening as his breath hitched in eager anticipation.

Sebastian snarled and bit into his mate mark, feeling as William neared his release. "You will not come yet," he growled, thrusting hard and fast inside him. "Not until I tell you to, Mr. Spears."

Grell whined at the domination in Sebastian's voice, moving his free hand to fist his own cock.

"Master, please!" William begged.

Sebastian's hand tightened around William's throat, effectively cutting off his air supply. "No," he snarled.

William gasped for breath, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He's already denied release, Grell's mouth around him, his Master's cock within him and his hand choking the air from his lungs; all of it was bringing him to a quick and hard end. His vision blackened before he felt the rush of oxygen enter his lungs again.

"Oh fuck!" William screamed, feeling as his testicles drew up against his body, the coil in his belly snapping as he felt his release hit.

With a roar, Sebastian yanked Grell's head away from William's member, the demon's hand quickly clamping down around his base to deny his orgasm once more. The dark haired reaper sobbed in frustration, gasping as the hand closed around his throat again. When the darkness came, he felt himself dropping to the ground, his Master's arms guiding him to fall gently to the soft rug beneath him. His throat was released and the cock within him was removed. Full consciousness came again with the rapid succession of a strong hand to his still stinging ass.

"Poorly done, Mr. Spears," Sebastian reprimanded, panting as he spanked him. "I did not give you permission to come and yet you nearly did."

Tears sprang to William's eyes as he buried his face in the plush rug. "I'm sorry, Master," he sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"On your knees, Mr. Spears," Sebastian order, gripping the short, dark hair and pulling him up. William felt as his mouth was pried opened with the demon's fingers, Grell's erection being slipped into his mouth. He moaned at the taste of his crimson lover, salivating over the firm flesh. "Your arms are bound so you will not be tempted to finish yourself off. Let us see if Miss Sutcliff is better at following instructions."

Sebastian gripped the red-head's hips and slammed into him, delighting in the slick, stretched entrance he found.

"I did as you instructed, Mr. Michaelis," Grell told him, lacing his fingers through the hands that grasped his hips.

Sebastian brought one hand to his lips, kissing it as he thrust into this lover. "Perfectly, Miss Sutcliff," he purred. "Gods, your body is glorious. You swallowed me as if you were starving for me."

Grell gasped as Sebastian wrapped his arms around him, pounding into him harder and harder. "I am," he moaned out, shuddering as William moaned around him. "For both of you. I said I would do anything, Mr. Michaelis. Will said he would do anyone."

Sebastian bit into Grell's mate mark, lapping at the flesh as his lover's body tightened around him in response. "Indeed you did, Miss Sutcliff," he agreed, releasing one of Grell's hands to run his fingers soothingly through William's hair, petting him gently.

Grell bit his lip and pillowed his head against the demon's shoulder. "Will you, please, Sir, allow him to learn from you?" He asked breathlessly. "Let him take me, with you."

William whined at that, leaning into Sebastian's touch and looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Sebastian's mouth went dry, shuddering as he slowed his pace. "I suppose that would be the best way for Mr. Spears to learn appropriately," he stated simply, his voice quavering with barely repressed desire.

Grell's eyes slipped shut as he turned his head to kiss over the demon's neck. "To learn under our Master, Mr. Michaelis," the red-head purred. "What a pleasure for us, to be sure."

Sebastian growled low in his throat, kissing his crimson lover and withdrawing slowly. "A moment, Miss Sutcliff," he moaned, moving swiftly behind William to release his arms from the belt.

Once his arms were free, William wrapped them around Grell, grasping his ass as he kept working him over with his mouth, fingers working into his entrance as he did so. He pulled back with a pop and nuzzled against his hip. "My goddess."

Sebastian returned to Grell, easing him to the ground and over William's erection, positioning the red-head so the hardened flesh of William's member slid inside him slowly. Settling behind him, he added more oil to his own erection before easing in beside the dark-haired reaper.

A red-head snapped back, eyes blown in desire as he was stretched wide. "Nabby," he whispered as he panted. "Give me all of you."

William grasped Sebastian's hair and pulled him over Grell's shoulder for a biting kiss. "Please, Master," he begged. "Fuck him wide and gaping, leave him dripping and—nngh!"

The demon's fang bit into William's lip, blood welling at the wound. Grell stifled a shriek of pained pleasure as his demon lover shifted to his true form, his erection lengthening and widening inside of him. He pressed his forehead into William's shoulder, panting harshly as he was stretched farther than he had ever been in either of his lives. "Lucifer's bloody fucking tits!" He screamed once the transformation was complete.

William was mumbling incoherent words and sentences as his member throbbed inside of Grell and against Sebastian. "Gods damn it, fucking tight as fuck! Soak him, fuck him full. Come is going to pour out of him. Need it, damn it, need it!"

Sebastian snarled as he set a slow pace, gauging how his lady would do with this situation. Grell chuckled darkly, tightening his body further around the two members inside him. William whined and thrust hard at that.

"Gentle lovemaking is not what I desire right now, Mr. Michaelis," he stated lowly. "I told you anything. Fuck me fast and hard and fill me as full as – FUCK!"

The demon's hips slammed hard and deep within the reaper, setting a pace William tried desperately to keep up with. "You are doing wonderfully, Mr. Spears," he panted, claws digging into the dark-haired reaper's side and the red-head's hair. "I fear this won't take long."

Grell moaned in delight, thrusting back on the members inside. "It never does like this, Darlings," he purred.

William was sobbing into the red-head's shoulder, hands gripping at his lovers desperately. "Fucking gorgeous, my lady," he mumbled. "Stretched wide, so fucking wide."

Sebastian snaked his tail into Grell's entrance, growling in feral bliss as he did so. He wrapped the appendage around William's shaft. "I can make him wider, William," he rumbled. "Would you like that?"

The dark-haired reaper's back bowed at the feel of the tail around him, hips snapping up desperately. "M-Master, please!" William cried out frantically. "Too close before! I need it!"

The red-head was keening loudly in the back of his throat, his entire body trembling in want. "Oh for fucks sake, come inside me, Will!" Grell shrieked, slamming back against them.

William looked at Sebastian urgently. "Master?" He begged.

Sebastian licked his lips. "Together," he snarled, biting into Grell's shoulder. "NOW!"

Three voices cried out as one as they came hard. Grell felt the release of both of his lovers' hit inside him, the demon's seed scorching, hot as hellfire. He moaned in bliss, head lolling lazily against William's shoulder, teeth scraping against his lover's mark. "William," he whispered. "Eat it out of me, Darling."

William growled, feeling as Sebastian withdrew and pulled the red-head up to stand on shaking legs, wrapped in the demon's embrace. The reaper supervisor scrambled to his knees, mouth latching over Grell's thoroughly fucked and gaping entrance, the fluid inside him dripping into his mouth. Grell clawed at the demon's chest, whimpering in lust and utter exhaustion.

"Gods," Sebastian rumbled lowly, slowing shifting back to his human form. He removed the glasses from his face and tossed them to the table. "Such a small thing as glasses to get this out of you both. Remarkable."

"Our marks, Mr. Michaelis," Grell slurred sleepily as the demon lifted him into his arms before helping William to his feet.

"Both of you are passing with excellent marks," Sebastian smirked, laying the red-head down and examining his tattoo to check for any damage due to their amorous activities. "Well done."

William slid into bed beside Grell, kissing him lazily and sharing the taste of their mingled flavors with him. Pulling back, he slid down the red-head's body, resting his head on his lap and examining the tattoo. "I didn't get a chance to really look at it," he murmured, eyeing the artwork with interest. "Is it odd to find it… well, arousing?"

Grell giggled, moaning as Sebastian began rubbing the moisturizing ointment into his abdomen, the action lulling him to sleep. "Not at all, Darling," the demon answered. "It's gorgeous on him and, I believe if tonight is any indication, it has helped him to regain some of his confidence."

"Perhaps I should get a tattoo," William mused, tracing over the roses gently. "That may help to dispel the rumors that I am boring."

Sebastian smirked and kissed the reaper over the sleeping red-head's lap. "I will gladly tattoo anything on you, anywhere, my love," he purred.

William smiled as they settled on either side of the red-head and pulled up the covers. "Anything, Mr. Michaelis?" He asked teasingly. "Anywhere? I shall have to test your sincerity in that, Sir."

Sebastian laced their fingers together before kissing William's hand. "Darling, my sincerity is absolute in anything you or our lady wish of me," he vowed. "Now and always."

William smiled softly and closed his eyes. "Excellent."

A/N: And now I want another tattoo. Reviews are loved.