tampered | so sleep tonight in idle dreams: incomplete

so sleep tonight in idle dreams: incomplete

When; January 6th, midnight.
Rating; Uh...at the very least PG-13...seeing who's involved, it'll probably go to R. For violence. Not, uh, other stuff. ~~Much to Grell's chagrin.~~
Characters; Grell Sutcliff (

deathbutler) and Sebastian Michaelis (

blackestate)
Summary; It's our finale drenched in moonlight. Can't you hear it?
Log;

Midnight in a beautiful City. Couples, lovers...drifting here and there, whispering as fingertips of wispy dark fog brushed against their cheeks and lips--promising.

Away from the crowds stood a figure clothed in black. Suit and coat, gloves and boots in monochrome, only the redness of the man's eyes were distinguishable in the luminous darkness. Standing perfectly still and straight, the man was to all appearances waiting for someone. Perhaps someone to spend the night with, or go for a midnight stroll...

Sebastian glanced at his watch. Four minutes to twelve, and not a second over or under that number. There had been no need for him to arrive early, but Sebastian supposed he'd done so out of some sort of habit. Not that, in this case, he particularly minded. The moon was quite amiably bright and its presence companionable; in fact, on some other night Sebastian would not have minded a stroll at all. But tonight he had business to attend to, and if he was lucky, he'd need to be done by three in order to get back to the mansion to prepare breakfast.

The terms of the bet were deceptively simple: Sebastian and Grell would fight each other, one-on-one and once again, by the moonlight of "four days hence" against the backdrop of the City's sky. It would be a fight not to the death, as it would be quite troublesome were one of them to die only to be resurrected again a few days later with no memory of what had transpired before. The stakes were likewise straight-forward, though high: if Grell won, he would win Sebastian's services for an entire day, the demon-butler obedient to Grell's every beck and call. If Sebastian won, however, the tables were flipped: Grell Sutcliff would be his and his alone, to do with as his master the Earl Phantomhive commanded, for an entire day. Sebastian had even been generous enough to allow Grell to pick the setting for this so-called "finale" of theirs; it was a beautiful enough place, to be sure, and Sebastian didn't even mind the cloying stench of sweetness in the air. After all...

...the scent of blood was much, much stronger.

Sebastian's smile was soft, and promising. While he would not lower himself to showing such an expression to one so unworthy, the truth was that Sebastian too had been looking forward to this fight. Not to the so-called "romance" to their meeting, and certainly not to making physical contact with the death god himself. But he did look forward to purging from Hell the slime that tainted even this kind of place; picturing his Master's expression when Ciel'd realize what Sebastian had done, Sebastian's smile grew that much wider.

What would his Master look like, knowing what kind of deal Sebastian had struck, knowing what the stakes and who the opponent? Sebastian wondered if he might be frightened.

After all, the devil himself...was all Ciel Phantomhive had left.

The clock struck twelve. Like he'd promised, Sebastian was waiting.

He'd no doubt that Grell would keep his half of the bargain, as well.

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Were Grell Sutcliff the excitable type, (and oh he was), he might have been looking forward to this for quite some time. And he had been.

And were he the type to express his feelings in words, (and yes, he was), he might say his heart had longed for this moment, this clandestine meeting between two forbidden lovers, demon, and death god, this love's duet by moonlight and fire- staining the ground below with the crimson shade of blood-

Ah, it was too beautiful an image to behold even in his mind's eye, let alone the gold ones, whose predatory hunger was barely masked by the glint of a streetlamp on his red-framed glasses.

"Sebastian~" He called out as he sauntered over, didn't approach, sauntered, with midnight chiming in the clock over the City, heralding a new days' start. (And the end, oh, the end of a lovely game...)

"Have you figured out the secret of my gift, yet?~" Voice sing-song, cheery, and altogether unsuited to the night, just as he was altogether unsuited to being a butler, as opposed to his opponent, and altogether even unsuited even to the normal duties of a reaper carried out in shadows, as his superior was so wont to remind him.

"It would be horrid form, to start off this duel without your revelations of my intent~"

Ah, and there he was. Surprisingly punctual, though considered the bait Sebastian'd laid out to get the man here, it wasn't all too surprising. The smile on Sebastian's face vanished, placed by a cold, emotionless look that conveyed distaste and slight disgust.

"I did mention you lack subtlety," Sebastian said flatly, eyes meeting Grell's. Though red, there was no hint in them of the bloodlust Grell so freely flaunted.

"Though, I admit, you did manage to fool Master Ciel quite well. The blood of the Jack the Ripper victims hidden away inside crystals...were the young master to know I suppose the City's own dogs would be onto your scent in no time at all."

"Iyah, Sebastian~ Insulting me already~!" Grell's hips wriggled lewdly, waving a delicately gloved hand in dismissal of those horribly insulting words- Just like William, insults to hide their true feelings, naturally~

"Fooling a child who can't even kill his own Aunt is too easy~" The glove found a place under his chin, lips curled as he spoke, hip cocked to the left and tapping a finely made heeled shoe.

"But, really- isn't a fine gift?" He always liked the grand gestures, grandstanding as he spoke. "All of those licentious women, sacrificed once more just to commemorate our reunion!"

But his voice grew low and amused, an eyebrow raised suggestively.

"And let's not even joke like the police can do a thing about it, Sebas~chan~ That's not even funny."

Were Sebastian a human being, perhaps the jibe at his master's power would have moved him. Perhaps it would have angered him, brought the color to his cheeks and fire into his heart. Or maybe instead Sebastian'd feel but a pang--a painful sensation tugging at the bond that linked the master to the servant, the one that might allow Sebastian to feel Ciel's pain over losing his one blood relative as well. Such emotions were at once the human race's greatest strength and weakness; but, facing this particular opponent, Sebastian needed neither the raging passion that came with anger nor the numbing freeze of despair. While he wouldn't dare call such a fight easy, he wouldn't call it difficult either. Grell Sutcliff would be defeated, plain and simple. All that remained was the method.

"I'm afraid I've long outgrown such cheap and tainted trinkets," Sebastian said, reserve to match Grell's lewdness.

"But a passing remark. While their cowardice and incompetence urge tears from the eyes of your victims' relatives, even you should know that this City is none of my concern. I am a butler to the core, after all. What the police do and how they choose to discipline--or not discipline--their criminals is none of my business."

And lewd Grell was, if anything to the core, he was that, twirling briefly with one foot popping up in girlish glee, hugging himself tightly in a mimicry of ecstasy.

"But I'd much rather be disciplined by Sebas~chan~!"

Thought this mood pervaded, he was still one who swung between emotions and actions, his chainsaw drawn abruptly from under his stylish cloak, flipped between his gloved fingers as his mouth stretched wide in some comic rendition of a sadistic smile.

"Though I'm afraid it's a demon who'll be on a leash by the end of this~"

Sebastian blanched at the "discipline~" comment, the only horror Grell would ever inspire in him visible on his face. Rather than in "--ing" anything to Grell, Sebastian was far more interested in the chainsaw the death god produced from under his coat, eyes alert and glowing faintly in the darkness.

Ah, that was right, wasn't it? They were to play by the rules, rules that Sebastian himself had set in case Grell Sutcliff should be tempted to reject his offer otherwise. The man was more cautious than Sebastian had previously estimated him to be--in truth, Sebastian had expected Grell to take Master Ciel up on the earlier offer to have Sebastian accompany Grell throughout the City for a day. But, as the man had proven himself more dangerous (though Sebastian had already known he was crafty) than the butler's previous estimation, it had been necessary for Sebastian to find another way to lure the death god out. By offering a deal his nearly nonexistent self-control would not allow him to refuse.

Offering up Sebastian himself.

Sebastian said nothing in response to Grell's comment. He found it fit only to straighten his gloves and meet Grell's gaze squarely--the chainsaw not for a second escaping his careful eye.

Sebastian was a prize Grell had never been able to pass up. Oh, it had been so hard to pass up the little Earl's offer- but a present given was nowhere near as sweet as a present he'd earned with the extra gift of blood on the side. Even if it did come with the unfortunate side effect of sweat.

"It's that stoic nature I love in you, Sebastian~" He crooned, tongue lapping briefly along the flat of the chainsaw blade, giggling madly. "Opposites really do attract!"

Heel set in to the cobblestone beneath his feet, and a slight tense of his muscles, before he braced and lept forward, the chainsaw whirring to life in his hand as he took a broad, arching swing.

"But you'll be screaming before the night is up!"

Sebastian leapt easily out of the way, landing almost silently nearby and watching the blade slice through the air with a dispassionate, judging look.

Grell's abilities hadn't seemed to change much from their last meeting; though Sebastian could not be sure just how much of Grell's powers the death god was displaying at the moment, Sebastian would venture a guess that their abilities were much the same as the last time they'd fought. Pity. This would have been more of a challenge if Sebastian had to adjust his movements according to a new set of physical limits...but then again.

At the very least, the fight should pass sooner.

"At least this time, you haven't got a snot nosed brat distracting you~!" Oh, he could never be quiet like Sebastian could, always had to love the sound of his own voice, ringing out and trying unsuccessfully to incite to rage and brash action that left openings for mistakes.

"And I've no disappointing Madam- We're all alone here, Sebastian, in this most intimate moment!" Toe hit the stones, and he turned abruptly, slash following through towards Sebastian's landing place.

Oh, no, he'd no new skills. But a new determination... yes.

Sebastian smiled faintly at the mention of the "brat," jumping once again into the air to perform a series of six perfect back-flips that enabled him to avoid the second slash.

"A brat Master Ciel may be indeed," Sebastian said as he landed on his feet, turning suddenly to face Grell again.

"But he is a brat who is also my master, and so long as I can stand my stance will be his. Every drop of the blood in this body that I shed shall be coaxed out only by his generosity in allowing me to be what I am: that is, a demon and a butler."

"Then, fight like a demon!" Grell urged, jumping after the evading devil, landing on an apartment balcony with the flair of his crimson jacket highlighting his silhouette.

"Instead of running more like your brat of a master!" So, okay, Ciel had never actually run. But he always stood back, let his demon do the fighting... it was close enough.

Sebastian didn't leap for the bait, keeping his frame perfectly still, looking up at Grell's silhouette haloed red by moonlight.

One.

Two.

He smiled.

Three.

In a single, barely visible flurry of motion Sebastian dashed up the apartment walls, cartwheeled in the sky, and landed on the balcony, standing directly behind Grell.

"Master Ciel doesn't run," he whispered into the death god's ear.

"He cries."

There was a single half-moment of shock, jerking muscles, before he whirled about, crimson hair following behind the sharp motion of his head, chainsaw catching as he instinctively lashed out at the demon behind him, breathing down his neck-

But oh such a delighted shiver swam down his spine at the poisonous voice in his dedicated ear.

"I want to hear it, Sebas~chan~!"

Sebastian's eyes glinted, hard against the soft smile on his slips. He shifted sharply, the chainsaw just missing his torso but nicking his forearm. Wasting no time even as the first bit of cloth caught in the chainsaw's rotating teeth and drops of blood spilled onto his suit, Sebastian caught the blade between his palms and spun his body around a full 360 degrees--still balanced perfectly on the balcony.

Eyes widened, a sound of surprise, oooh, so agile, before he regained his senses, moving to wrest the chainsaw from the demon's white gloved palms and slice through the balcony beneath his feet.

The balcony cut away from beneath his feet, as he fell, Sebastian grabbed hold of the ground above him and flipped himself up again. In that one swing, Sebastian aimed his two legs at Grell's unshielded abdomen.

At least he hadn't aimed for the face!

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore out there, Romeo~!" He had to jerk his chainsaw back up, barely manage to place the flat of the mechanical weapon between them, but as it was, he stumbled back hard in to the wall, palm clutching his cheek weakly.

"Deny thy father, and refuse thy name-" Master, rather, fingers spasming against the stone before he thrust forward against him, weapon revving in a swing.

Sebastian didn't bother to respond to Grell's ridiculous lines; instead of inspiring any sense of romance in the demon butler, hearing Grell call him "Romeo" only made Sebastian regret he had ever read the Bard's works at all.

He jumped back, just narrowly dodging the blade once again. Turning to the left, he aimed a fist at the death god's unprotected head, cutting to the chase and leaving the play for another night.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THE FACE!?!"

Grell shrieked, barely managing to avoid the center of the blow, but as it was, he still was hit, clutching at his cheek in horror as he recoiled-

That, that-

It was definitely going to bruise!

"My goal tonight is to have you yield," Sebastian replied coldly.

"I don't believe we outlined in our agreement any rules as to how I should do so."

With Grell off-guard, Sebastian took his chance as he could see it, following his blow with several more, delivered consecutively and at such a speed that all could be seen of the butler's arms was a great black blur targeting and surrounding Grell's face and upper body.

"Iyooooouch-"

More than one hit their mark before he retreated, alighting on the roof above and hissing his frustration, briefly dusting off his jacket and nursing a bruise forming on his cheek.

"Our servitude day would be horrible if my face wasn't lovely..."

Distracted once more, fussing over it, but it was a feint, waiting for him to come once more, chainsaw still in hand. A feint, but one characteristic to him.

Sebastian smiled a bit at the servitude comment, a bright sharpness to his eyes. Running up to the roof after Grell, he joined the death god in seconds, a leg kicking out to knock the other off his high-heeled feet.

He was ready for this one, jumped up and tucked his legs under with a shout of excitement, chainsaw raised high and slammed down toward the demon with full force.

"Got you~!"

Thanks to his reflexes, Sebastian did manage to avoid the full force of the hit. Still, he couldn't help it when the chainsaw came down full-force on the part of his leg just above his ankle.

The bone cracked and chipped under the chainsaw's teeth, blood splashing Grell's pants and Sebastian's own. When Sebastian managed to leap off some distance to the back, his eyes held nothing but annoyance. Proper pants were so difficult to come by in the City--but a few shops carried goods that were up to Master Ciel's standards.

His laughter was anything but sadistic, tongue lapping sick along the chainsaw's stilling blade, dragging the tip of his gloves through the crimson stain and pointing across the roof at the butler, licking his lips, hip cocked.

"Do you like pain, Sebas~chan?~" He called, finger crooking temptingly.

"I have more for you~"

"I'm afraid I'll have to pass," Sebastian answered, testing his injured leg with some weight. He could stand straight again, though the bones still cracked and ground when he walked.

"Any pleasure in excess becomes punishment, after all. And my master's patience wears thin."

The problem of the battle still lay with the chainsaw; in hand-to-hand combat, Sebastian was undoubtedly superior. For a minute, he stood still again--waiting, expression unreadable.

The sound of that cracking, groaning ivory made Grell squeal softly, wriggling happily at the noise. The fingers on his bruised cheek finally left, and yes, that would be a nasty look tomorrow, already purpling, but for now-

He cracked his neck, then shoulders, wincing a bit. One of those blows had landed there, and oooh, it had hurt. But-

"No waiting around, Sebastian~!" He charged, chainsaw at his side like a jousting match.

"As you wish!" Sebastian replied, eyes narrowed and concentrating perfectly, mind running over the possibilities to settle on the one course of action he had left.

This:

In one swift movement Sebastian'd thrust a leg through the roof below him and kicked up part of one of the wooden beams that supported the roof of the house. Grasping and then hefting it in gloved hands like a splintered baseball bat, Sebastian leaped lightly to the side and brought the beam down on Grell's skull from behind.

"Ee-"

The shinigami's eyes widened, chainsaw still in midswing when the beam slammed in to the back of his head, bringing him to his knees with a yelp. Certainly not enough to end a death god, no, but goddamn, that smarted, stars reeling in front of his eyes.

The chivalry of old, if Sebastian was not mistaken, contained a line about the injustice of "kicking a man while he was down." Unfortunately for Grell Sutcliff, Sebastian did not believe in chivalry--after all, he was nothing more than a mere servant, and could not be expected to conform to a code of nobler conduct.

As such, Sebastian followed his initial blow with several more, and when a section of the beam splintered and broke off he simply used the remainder the continue his attack, unsatisfied with his handiwork so long as the man was on his knees and not face-forward into the ground.

Well, at least Grell should be grateful for this new development. "Stabbing someone in the back," so to speak, did not involve damaging said someone's face. Aiming for the skull was fair game, and so Sebastian did so. Grell would not disappoint him from dying--not yet. There'd be no point in fussing over a corpse, after all, and Sebastian did want to provide the best possible service.

"Eyouuuuuuu-"

With the opening so noticable, he didn't have a chance to recover, just as soon as he recovered from the pain of the first blow and was able to think to try and move, another would take it's place, until the whirring chainsaw blade was forced in to the roof, grinding fitfully, along with the bones of said face against the tiles, yelps and squeals of pain escaping in rather undignified volume.

"Seba-"

"You-"

Finally, he quieted, bleeding not quite profusely but rather well, mind, knees down, hips up, and face rather upset at being down in the dirt. Not to mention the bloody nose.

"... bruuuute."

But it came out only a rather muffled groan of pain.

"How cold," Sebastian remarked lightly, surveying his work. Though the death god was, for the time being, down, Sebastian understood well that this was an advantage easily lost if he did not capitalize on it immediately and turn the outcome of this fight permanently towards his favor.

The chainsaw was the most obvious problem, but one whose solution was quite straight-forward. Without another word Sebastian's heel came down on Grell's knuckles. Enjoying the slow grind and crunch as the hand was crushed slowly into the handle of the chainsaw, Sebastian looked down at the man beneath him and smiled.

"They say the intimacy of a near-death experience is not dissimilar to those 'releases' of a more carnal nature."

The tip of Sebastian's other boot rested teasingly on the curve of Grell's prone posterior, but with a violence completely in opposition to his earlier gentleness he brought the foot down suddenly and brutally--smashing Grell's pelvis so powerfully into the roof beneath that the shingles groaned and splintered.

"Since the thought of any sort of physical union with your sort disgusts me, I've gone out of my way to find a form of 'intimacy' that would suit both your tastes and mine. You do, after all, like pain...do you not?"

Another unfortunate moan muffled in the roof, and his gloved fingers, one set of which was rather oddly bent looking, slammed in to the surface and dragging his torso up, hair hanging like a tattered curtain, a couple shards of glass clinking from the broken frames of his spectacles.

"N- Not so haaaaaard-" The death god whimpered pitifully, a sore sight, when he had the disadvantage. Oh, he was smooth, charming in a sick way, when he was in control. But take that away from him, and he was reduced to this, a simpering, vain little thing.

"I need that!" Eyes darted back to his chainsaw, quick like, but he didn't grab for it, cheek purpled and bruised, and emitting a rather constant string of hisses and pained winces, though-

He did seem to be taking some sort of perverse enjoyment from this.

Enjoyment that Sebastian seemed most keen on testing the limits of.

With Grell in such a shape, Sebastian bent down and took the chainsaw easily into his hands, bloodying his gloves tracing the edge of the blade. Such a fine weapon, indeed...though the butler would never admit it, he found Grell's choice of weapon much more appealing than his superior's. While Sebastian did appreciate efficiency of cut and easy maneuverability, it never hurt to have a little "fashion" with function. Sebastian supposed the dramatic had a certain appeal...but remembering the last time he held this chainsaw in his hands, Sebastian couldn't risk having his fun interrupted so again.

"My, my," he smiled, voice amiable and smooth--like velvet, really.

"How shameless. Needing it 'harder,' is it?"

He turned the chainsaw on again after coaxing the debris out of the teeth.

"No good can come out of testing my control, Grell Sutcliff. Even you should know that."

He whimpered again, trying to drag himself up further, though that was a bit hard with Sebastian's shoe firmly planted against his pelvis. What a masochist, Grell Sutcliff, and what a sadist, Sebastian Michaelis.

If their natures were capable of getting along, it would have been a beautiful partnership. Really, he thought. Most unfortunatly, it was not, (would never be), so.

His breath caught, though, at the spinning of his own weapon in the hands of another, turned against him, its master.

"W-" Grell's voice still had that whiny tone, at the disadvantage. "Weapons are the shameless ones, Sebas-chan-" He moaned. "So easily purring in the hands of anooooother~"

"True," Sebastian agreed, looking from the chainsaw to Grell.

"The condition was to keep you 'alive,' wasn't it? And yet, I am curious...I never did get a forthright answer as to what killing one of your kind would require."

Other hand moved to his bent ones, hissing in pain as he straightened the damaged fingers, a soft squelch, eyes afraid, more than he was trying to present himself.

"More than it would take a demon, I'm sure-" A pouty child, after a spanking. It was a good comparison.

"Really."

Sebastian's voice now took on an even darker note--an amused one. Far from being displeased with Grell's answer, he sounded almost...smug, somehow.

The chainsaw hovered closer.

"Then you will have to forgive me if I breach our contract in the ensuing action. By accident, of course--I can hardly be held responsible for any misjudgments made out of ignorance."

"Eya-"

Eyes widened, and he scrambled away as much as he was able, arms flailing in front of him frantically.

"S- S- S- SEBASTIAN, NO, PL- PLEASE!"

"Please it is, Grell."

Please it is.

................................................it was some time before Sebastian was finished. Despite the late hour, Sebastian had, for once, allowed himself the luxury of taking his time with this particular task, finding infinitely more enjoyment in drawing out the experience for both parties involved. If volume was any indication, then Sebastian was quite certain that Grell Sutcliff most thoroughly consented to the treatment. Well, at least most of the death god did--probably. Sebastian had to admit that he'd been rather careless with certain other parts, but as those were properly disposed of he could find no reason for the death god to be discontent.

Without checking whether he had upheld his end of the bargain, Sebastian stripped off his bloodied gloves to replace them with a new pair--freshly white and laundered, reflecting the glaring light of early dawn--piercing. He had a strange confidence in the City--and, perhaps, in Grell, as well. If Grell truly died this time, after all, Sebastian would know what the death god had refused to tell him. And if he didn't...

"Our bargain," he said, tossing a paper contract at what most looked like one of Grell's feet.

"Rest assured I will call you when you are to fulfill the terms of the agreement. I trust you would not try so recklessly to go back on your word; not unless, of course, your faithful companion for all these years means to you so little."

Chainsaw in hand, Sebastian found himself smiling again as he walked off. The sun was just beginning to rise, but though he was running a bit late to prepare Master Ciel's breakfast, those first golden rays struck within Sebastian a deep, resonating chord. Sunrises were red, of course, but the color infinitely more subtle now than it was during sunset.

Men. Strange, vile maggot-creatures, spawning and crawling all over their own filth with more gusto and twistedness than any mere beast could manage. And yet, for all their moralizing, so few had the prescience to realize that the taint of corruption was not only clear by the darkness of night. The innocence of the ladybug hanging on dew-dripping leaftips, the "cheery" splash of crimson on the early morning sky...there were all clues, in a way.

Look deep enough, and you will find the secrets of your own heart.

Sebastian closed his eyes, flirted with the sensation of blindness, and continued his walk.

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so sleep tonight in idle dreams: incomplete

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AAS;FKLJWE I WAS HOLDING OFF DOING THIS. S-SORRY, GRELL!

OH SEBASTIAN~ YOU DELIGHTFULLY EVIL THING <333