Its been a while since the weather has been this hot. The last time I remember something even a little remote to this was this past April, when we had a short week that gave us temperatures in the high 90's. I remember that week for a cornucopia of reasons, but there is definitely one that sticks out in particular.

I knew that I had started to care about him more than I should in my given position when I noticed how miserable he was. One in my position is generally not bothered by the warm or cold temperatures, but one in his position is bothered greatly. Being an English noble, for him to sport any attire other than that of a proper gentleman would not be acceptable.

What made that week memorable was my reaction to his being miserable due to the heat, and his reaction to the aforementioned reaction. Even now, looking back on it, I do not regret what I did. It is my belief that he feels no regret either. Now, one might be asking, what is there to regret? Well, allow me to enlighten you.

--

"Young Master?" I called out before knocking on the door, and then proceeded to lightly wrap my knuckles against the solid mahogany door.

"Come in." The reply was short, but I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. The heat was taking a toll on his stamina, as it was the other servants in the mansion.

I opened the door slowly to find him sitting in his chair with his arms folded across his desk, head resting on them. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and I could see from the visible skin of his forehead and his hands that he was pale.

"I've brought your tea." I stated, walking in the room and closing the door behind me. He sat up slowly as I spoke, and the lid of his visible eye was drooping to cover the deep expansion of blue beneath.

Setting the tray down on his desk and walking around it next to him, I slipped the glove of my right hand down a fraction of an inch and placed my exposed wrist against his forehead. He wasn't warmer than I had expected, but his high body temperature was still disturbing to me.

"Is all right, Young Master?" I asked, concern coloring my tone for the first time in ages. Why, I asked myself, am I so concerned? I already know the cause of his maladies. I have no reason to worry.

He turned his head toward me and cleared his throat loudly. "Sebastian." His voice was no more than a whisper, coming closer to a pant than anything else. "Draw me a cold bath."

I could feel my brow furrow and the frown that crept onto my face. "Are you sure, Young Master? That might not be the most effective way to--"

He cut me off. "That is an order, Sebastian."

I nodded and pulled my hand away from his forehead, pulling my glove back on all the way. "Yes, my Lord."

The bath didn't take very long to draw for the simple reason of not having to wait for the water to come up to temperature. Undressing him to prepare him for his cold bath, I noticed that he was perspiring so excessively that his clothes were sticking to his body. That would take some work to clean.

As he dipped himself gingerly into the water, shivering slightly, I noticed something else: he was unmistakably erect. I blinked in surprise and glanced up at his expression as he let himself down, almost completely submerged in the water. Only his neck and head remained dry.

"Young Master." I began, fighting to keep my tone as indifferent and normal as possible. "Would you like me to wash you?"

"No, that's alright. You may draw a warm bath later, when the heat is lesser, and wash me then." His eyes were closed, and he was stirring the surface of the water with the tips of his fingers.

Interesting, I thought. That's relatively…attractive. That was when the idea that I might care for my master in a more than professional way first entered my mind. I blinked again, collected his clothes, and folded them. There was a silence between us, but it was comfortable; a silence that was filled with the unspoken promises and worry.

However, I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued. Curiosity, and something else. Something that I had not experienced in a long time. Was that…arousal? Unfortunately, the possibility was very real. However, now that I had an idea of why these last few days I had been so concerned with my Young Master's comfort, I did not plan on letting up until my suspicions had been confirmed.

"Young Master?" I was going to have to be cunning about this, because I knew he was hardly one to fall for silly tricks.

"Yes?"

"Are you feeling any better?" I made my way over to the side of the tub rather quickly, excitedly, and peered down at him. However, the water obscured my perception of his current state.

"A little, thank-you."

"If you should allow me, I believe I could help you."

"Help me?"

"You are uncomfortable, no? I would merely help to make you more comfortable. After all, as butler to the Phantomhive, if I could not manage this, what could I do?"

He sighed, clearly irritated at my small catch-phrase. "Very well, Sebastian. Do what you see fit, I suppose."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, and slipped off my gloves. "Thank-you, my Lord."

I carried out the preparation for what I was about to do knowing two things; he very well may never allow me to be near him again, and regardless of his reaction, this would change our relationship until it came time for me to collect his soul.

I positioned myself in the perfect spot to achieve what I was hoping while staying out of range of any possible splash that would be created when I began. Then I slowly, deliberately, dipped my hand into the water in between his legs, taking his member (which was, in fact, still erect) between my forefinger and middle finger.

As expected, his hand fell from the side of the tub into the water, creating a splash that missed me by mere inches.

"Sebastian! What do you think you are doing?" His words were loud and his voice was venomous, but he made no move to release himself from my grip.

"I'm making you more comfortable, Young Master. Just as I said I would." As I spoke, I moved my thumb and ringer finger in opposite directions along his length, and his scolding seemed as though it was immediately abandoned.

I heard his breath catch in his throat from the unfamiliar pleasure that I knew was coursing through him, and I was more than satisfied when he let his head fall back against the edge of the tub and moaned.

I smirked, and beneath my hand his member stiffened, hardened, whichever adjective you choose to use. I picked up my pace, now using the length of all of my fingers to stroke him quickly.

He moaned again and bucked his hips into my waiting hand, spreading his legs as much as he could in the small space.

"Do you like that, Young Master?" I asked, the concerned edge to my voice now replaced with a cocky one.

"Yes…Sebastian…yes…" So young, with so little tolerance. Something I would undoubtedly have to take care of. Really, after selling your soul to a demon, how old must one be to be considered experienced in this department?

I could tell he was reaching his climax, and I made no move to prevent it. After all, I did have plenty of time to help him learn to increase his stamina. I picked up my pace even more, now pinched random areas to help him along. After a short while, his back arched off the edge of the tub and he moaned loudly, coming into my hand and soiling the water.

I chuckled and dislodged my fingers from his length, washing them in the now very, very dirty water. He collapsed backward, panting heavily. Not meeting his gaze, I stood up and took a towel, drying my hand.

"Sebastian." I turned around and gave him an amused expression, swinging the towel over my arm.

"Yes, Young Master?"

"I should be angry with you." He stated plainly, and slowly stood up. I walked over and wrapped the towel around his as I had done every time before, and he quickly took it from my hands and turned around.

"However, I now have reason to believe in karma." He glanced down at me and smiled, and I followed his gaze. There was an evident bulge in my trousers, and I had surely missed it trying to increase his 'comfort.'

"You've receive your just deserts, Sebastian." He said, and stepped out of the tub, grinning at me. "I will be in my bedroom. I expect you to take care of that promptly without making too much of a mess. After you've finished, you may come dress me. That's an order."

"Yes, my Lord." I almost unwillingly muttered. He smirked and walked past me, leaving me to take care of my little problem.

"Oh, by the way." He said, and turned just before the door. I was still facing the now clouded bath water.

"I expect you to be able to make me more 'comfortable' in the future. Be ready on a moment's notice." Without waiting for a reply, he walked out of the room, leaving me once again.

--

So one might ask, what happened after that? Well, that is why, as I lay in the Young Master's bed with him sleeping soundly beside me, only a thin sheet covering me due to the heat, I write this. If only there were more days like this in England.