Ciel sat up against his bed's headboard, hugging his pillow, running one hand repeatedly through his hair. Sebastian sat on a nearby stool in silence, awaiting his master's orders. None came. So he waited loyally.

"Bocchan, shall I find a way to calm your nerves?"

"How would you do that?"

"Maybe… Ah…"

In all truth, Sebastian had been counting on the idea that Ciel would never ask for help. Never had he had the experience of helping any of his masters emotionally, much less his current one; they'd all been bent on revenge and thought of nothing else, felt nothing else than the stinging pang of regret and fury that all born avengers do. They all had no use for comfort. He was further stumped when his master smiled at him, and then turned his face in a flash, trying to hide it.

"Don't worry, I don't need your help now. Your hand is not experienced in that, nor is it for that purpose."

"Th-thank you…"

"Tea would be nice though."

"At once."

Relieved to be of some use, Sebastian returned to the kitchen to retrieve a pot of that night's special Indian blend. To his dismay Grell was in the process of sneaking in through the unlatched window. Too disappointed in the god to beat him, he shot him a look and continued on his way. Grell followed, or rather floated, giggling.

"Ara, Sebas-chan~! Give him that sleepy stuff tea! That one right there, the Indian– yeah that one! Once Ciel is sound asleep…!"

"I never agreed to that back at the old mansion. Why should I now?"

Sebastian skillfully poured a dark purplish tea into a white petal-thin china cup, inlayed with intricate indigo swirls. It was one of Bocchan's favorite cups, but to be truthful, Sebastian preferred the one Ciel had used as a young child– the soft pink one with a chibi cat drawn on the side. Gazing at it sitting in the cabinet, untouched, but secretly transported to the new building by the butler himself, he sighed. Ciel had been such a warm, loving, beautiful child before his life had been tainted by his parent's deaths, the burning of his home, and his kidnapping; would Ciel before those events possibly have a more… delectable soul? No! What a thing to be thinking of now! All I can do is help him cope with his… difficult life. Not dream of taking it from him! Even though he thought of this as "trying to be moral," he could not deny he thought of it often. Before he had time to ponder further, a call echoed down the hallway:

"Sebaaaasssstiannnn…"

Sighing, he shot through the corridors at literally demonic speed, all without spilling a single purple droplet. He entered, set the tea down, slid a cloth between his gloved hand and the cup, mixed in sugar and held it to his master's lips.

"You called?"

"'Bout time."

Ciel snatched up the cup, refusing to be fed like a baby. He sipped and coughed, dropping the cup in disgust. Of course, his butler had cleaned and disposed of the mess before it even touched the rug.

"What in hell is this?"

"It's bitter, but unmatched in it's sleeping effects. It's even used as anesthetic in some countries–"

"Here... Give me that." Ciel sighed, pointing to the sugar jar.

As Sebastian handed it to him, Ciel grabbed the entire teapot and emptied all its contents into the jar, swirled it around, and gulped it down, despite the fact that it was practically paste. Some of the sticky sweet solution was splashes on his cheek, though he was already too drowsy to notice.

"Oh my god it works…" Ciel chuckled, collapsing onto his comforter.

His eyes closed, and his lips curved upwards in a satisfied smile. Somewhat reflexively, against his better judgment, Sebastian reached out with the cloth and dabbed at his cheek. Ciel's eyes opened slightly, curiously eyeing his butler. Sebastian froze, the cloth still touching Ciel's cheek. They stayed like that for about a minute, unmoving, communicating only with their gazes.

"I don't mind– I suppose it's your duty." Ciel shrugged, gently taking the napkin and wiping his own face, then setting it down on the bedside table alongside the teapot.

Sebastian smiled, happy to have been forgiven so easily. It was unlike his master… but it was… pleasant, and he did enjoy being allowed to interact with Ciel as if they were friends, not master and subordinate.

"You know Sebastian… I've been wondering… how do you think of me?"

"I respect you as my master."

"Do you… think of me as a… person… who you… like?"

"What?" Sebastian choked, confused as hell.

"No no no!" Ciel sputtered, holding up his hands, embarrassed. "I meant as an acquaintance!"

"Bocchan… ah… what?"

"Nevermind…"

Ciel turned away and lay down on his side, dejected. Sebastian wasn't any less perplexed, though. I stepped on a landmine! He bent over his master, worried. Slowly and with tact (a result of eons of experience with relationships, though none of them ever meant much to him, and he usually just tossed them away within a week), he placed a hand on Ciel's shoulder and rolled him onto his back.

"Bocchan, to me you are as you said… an acquaintance, and an excellent one to have!" A sparkle seemed to shine beside him [Note: I am referencing how in anime the humorous four-pointed sparkle suddenly pops up and floats for a bit. You know, that thing…]

"Then… can we be… acquaintances?"

"Of course."

"Nnn."

Ciel beamed, seemingly satisfied. Sebastian bid him good night and exited, bowing. Outside, Grell waited in ambush. The moment the door clicked closed, he pounced on the butler and dragged him to the kitchen once again, as he had earlier that day, but this time furious.

"YOU!" He exclaimed, livid, revving up his chainsaw. "WHAT'S WITH THAT WARMTH? THAT BELONGS TO ME, NOT YOUR PETTY LITTLE 'ACQUAINTANCE'!"

"Ahem," Sebastian cleared his throat, tossing the chainsaw out the window with an 'alley-oop!', "'Acquaintance' is a word for those who know each other to some degree. Therefore, you too, are my acquaintance, though I resent that fact…"

Grell face-palmed, gripping Sebastian by the shoulder, digging his groomed red nails into his jacket.

"Don't you see it?" He hissed. "Do you see how… how… how close you and Ciel are?"

"We are bound by a contra–"

"NOT LIKE THAT! You guys… you guys are like a… he… you… Oh I don't know. But Ciel… I can tell that he…"

"He what?" Sebastian leaned in closer, anxious.

"There is… a strange kind of bond between you two… it's like a type of…"

"Of what?"

"…Love." Grell sighed, crumbling to the ground, pretending to cry. "God fuckin' dammit… I swear I will kill that boy in his sleep!"

Within seconds, the shinigami was gone from sight and a high window was shattered. Sebastian clapped the dust off his gloves, then turned to the kitchen window. Surely enough, Grell lay face down and bleeding on the cobbled street behind the mansion. Then, before walking off, Sebastian caught a glimpse of himself in the glass– it was like no other vision of himself he'd ever seen; on both his cheeks was a raging blush, and… as proof that Grell's words had flustered him, a… a single strand of hair was out of place. Quickly looking down, he exhaled and smiled nervously.

Bocchan, what are you doing to me?