Work Text:
The package was sitting pleasantly by itself on the kitchen island. An unassuming thing, really. A cardboard box maybe thirty centimeters across, unbranded. Discreet.
Vincent must have brought it in if he was home, or had staff bring it in when it arrived, more likely. Ciel knows his dad well enough to understand the man makes it a habit to not do tasks he feels are beneath him.
Shoes kicked off and schoolbag thrown about in the foyer, the boy makes his way to the neighboring living room. His sleek phone still gripped warmly in his hand. He hasn’t put it down since he retrieved it from his bag in the car home from school.
Ciel stares at the package.
The package somehow seems to stare back, despite its eyeless and inanimate state.
Ciel was expecting it. He knows Sebastian had gotten him a gift, which was entirely the issue, because what could the man have gotten him?
He pointedly remembers the suggestion:
“It might be wise to open it privately.”
The box is unopened, thank God. Ciel silently and emphatically thanks whatever divine power exists for that.
As if on cue, his phone buzzes once in his hand. He glances at the top of the screen, though he knows exactly who it is texting him. They’ve been texting off and on for hours.
Sebastian♡: Just got home?
Ciel: yeah
His phone offers another buzz.
Sebastian♡: I safely assume you received your gift, then
Ciel glances at the package in the adjacent kitchen once again. He finally heads over to look at the label on the box.
To: Ciel Phantomhive
The recipient listed is him— not Vincent. That is abnormal enough that he is surprised his father didn’t get curious and open it.
The corner of Ciel’s mouth curls. A haughty moment of wickedness pulses through him.
Ciel types.
Ciel: mhm yeah got it
He hits send, and then glances at the package once more. He turns back to the text thread.
Ciel: wut is it. tell me
He waits ten seconds. Twenty. His heart pounds. He isn’t even sure why.
He looks back at the package for the umpteenth time, and then behind him, as if Vincent would appear to ruin his fun at the least opportune time.
Ciel supposes he could just open it, but that would ruin the game.
His phone buzzes again in his hand, now pressed to the side of his waist, as he was looking intently at the box. He lifts up the phone to look at the screen.
Sebastian♡: Brat. Open it, perhaps.
Ah, the game.
Ciel scowls at his phone anyway.
Before he can reply with something a touch too mean for the situation, another text comes through.
Sebastian♡: I’d like a video.
Ciel’s eyebrows shoot up.
He drops his phone on the counter and hastily grabs the scissors from the junk drawer a few paces past the kitchen island. He rummages around in the drawer badly before pulling out the scissors in unnecessary triumph. He scuffles back to the package, his socked feet sliding against the kitchen tile.
He tries to be patient, he really does, but the tape on the box is stubborn. He cuts into it, opening up the cardboard flaps. The cardboard bends unattractively as he gets the package open, and he looks down hurriedly.
The contents of the package knock the wind out of him.
Oh, Sebastian didn’t.
Ciel blinks a few times, and rubs his eye once. He looks again.
Fuck, the bastard did.
A smooth, simple gray box is inside. quality packaging that confirms Ciel’s theory that Sebastian spent actual fucking money on his gift.
The pace of his breath quickens as he opens the packaging, hands shaking scarcely in anticipation because he can see the photo of the item on the packaging. Shit.
Inside, the item was, in fact, precisely as advertised.
Ciel stared at the deep purple, obscene-looking sex toy sitting in the molded foam that incased it.
His eyes felt achingly huge and his throat felt tight and uneasy with surprise and something hot.
The toy was out of its box and into his hands within a few seconds, curiosity weighing out everything else rising within him. It felt dense in his grasp, and was a fair bit longer than the length of his hand.
The toy has a velvety smooth, firm silicone finish that Ciel decides he likes after running his fingers across it, squeezing it lightly in a fist a few times. The vulgar shape of the thing was cylindrical, and expands into a nicely rounded bulbous shape near the tip.
Not a dildo, no. A sleek-textured silhouette of a thing.
Undeniably phallic, Ciel realizes. He is, humiliatingly, practically glowing. He runs his fist once from the rounded tip down to the narrower end, his hand forced to a stop at the wide, flat base of the toy. His hand could barely fit halfway around it at its thickest, and his fingertips barely touched at the slim base of the toy.
He picks up his phone again, a buzzing, hot ball of anticipation sitting warmly in his gut. He’s rapidly typing before he can stop himself.
Ciel: u got me a toy.
The response comes half a minute later. Ciel can only guess that the bastard was waiting by his stupid phone.
Sebastian♡: This is more a gift for myself.
The boy let out a petulant, ugly huff of air through his mouth. Impatient.
Ciel: sebastian.
Sebastian♡: All right. It is for you to use, if I were to be technical
Ciel glances back down at the toy, now sat bare on the counter. The sight of it is, once again, obscene. Especially the insouciant placement of it. The same counter Vincent was plating Ciel’s dinner on last night, now the surface of which a sex toy lay.
He reluctantly picks the toy back up, regarding it with a bit more disinclination.
The last message practically confirmed it: Sebastian wanted Ciel to put this inside of himself.
The plush bottom lip of his mouth pinches between his teeth as he considers.
The boy has taken bigger. The delectable size of Sebastian’s cock, first of all, was nothing to sneeze at.
Neither was his daddy’s, if Ciel let himself get carried away mulling over that.
The thought of Vincent being inside of him sends a rolling sensation of heat down his spine and into the pit of his stomach once again. Lower, even.
No, shit. Focus.
Ciel grips the shaft of the toy once more. He could do it, if he prepares himself well. It’s been almost a week since the last time he’d done anything like that. It would require a few minutes and a copious amount of lube…
God, Ciel already feels himself growing stiff at the thought. He desperately hates himself.
Oh, but the notion of Sebastian, unbearable and ridiculously beautiful, receiving a video of him opening himself upon the bulbous, thick head of the toy. Fucking himself down against it. Knowing Sebastian would watch him press the shaft higher and higher into himself until his asscheeks were flush against the wide base of it. The idea was, unfortunately, much too tempting.
Ciel turns his attention back to the message thread. He types.
Ciel: u want a video of me using this.
Send. He gnaws on his bottom lip again. His heart keeps pounding. Why is he even anxious? Sebastian has fucked him a number of times. This should be…
His phone buzzes. He looks down too quickly to maintain dignity.
Sebastian♡: I simply want to see you make yourself feel good, darling.
The pet name sends shockwaves of delight through Ciel’s small, already aroused body. He makes a noise that one would only not call a squeal if they were being charitable.
He’s going to do it. He has already fucking decided that he is going to do it. Obviously.
He types back, just to be a shit:
Ciel: ok fine
The only issue is that it wasn’t fine. Ciel wanted to scream and crawl out of his skin because it felt like he was on fire. He is, as far as he knows because he hasn’t seen his father, completely alone and desperate and he wanted to use his new toy.
His phone buzzes again. Ciel reads it. It feels as though his heart catches flame.
Sebastian♡: Good boy. Go play.
Ciel practically whines. His next thought is clear in his mind: Oh, fuck me.
Ciel gathers all of the packaging, condensing it all back into its original box so he can take it all upstairs with him. The care he takes with the packaging this time around is redundant as he’s already torn through most of it in his earlier curious haste.
The haptics on his phone go off once more. Ciel glances down and reads the notification.
Sebastian♡: It’s imperative to me that you know about the switch at the bottom of it.
Ciel frowns, and flips the toy over. The bottom of the base is completely flat, but on the edge, there is an outlet, and then a switch. Next to the switch is a softer, silicone button that matches the smooth texture of the entirety of the toy.
Ciel flips the switch, naturally.
He presses the button once.
A startling, heavy vibration begins throughout the entirety of the shaft. Immediately, a hot itchiness spread throughout the skin on Ciel’s hand as he holds the vibrator.
Well, all right.
Fuck.
・・・・・
Within the next twenty minutes, Ciel finds himself upon his own bed, his shorts thrown about haphazardly next to him, the hem beneath one folded edge of the duvet.
The room behind him is dim, the sun from the afternoon lowering from outside his windows. Only the bedside table lamp casts warm, comfortable lighting throughout his room.
Ciel can see his phone tossed about beside his shorts, the screen most likely gone cold by now, as he has been preoccupied. Impatient and preparing himself for the plaything Sebastian has given him.
His own, small fingers are slick and warm inside of himself. He can’t help but feel as though his own movements are clumsy and awkward, nothing like Sebastian’s long, elegant fingers finding the spot inside of him that makes him practically drip from need.
Still, though, his middle and ring finger are knuckle deep inside of him. A stretching pressure that is keeping his cock rosy and hard between his hip. His forearm is beginning to burn hotly from the pumping motion of his hand, fingers scissoring when he remembers that he is supposed to be opening himself up for the purple shaft of the toy.
The object itself is next to him, plum-colored against his baby blue sheets, silicone still dry from the packaging as Ciel hasn’t been brave enough to use it quite yet. He is almost positive it will not be able to fit – not without it hurting. Sebastian, the absolute bastard, probably wants it to hurt. Terrible, awful man.
The thought of Sebastian forcing the toy into his snug little hole was almost unbearable. Ciel’s legs shakily widen and slip against the duvet as he moves his fingers deeper.
He slips his slicked index finger into his tight heat, probably too soon. The stretch is already sharp and not-unpleasant. Ciel knows the sounds he is making at his own intrusion are nothing dignified. High and breathy, accompanied by a drop of pre-cum rolling wetly down his bare little prick.
His fingers cramp as he pumps them within himself, a tight vessel constricting his hand.
Fuck. “Can’t bloody reach,” he mutters breathlessly, spreading his legs to get his fingers deeper. The pressure is torment. He reaches around to hold the base of his arousal, desperately seeking some sort of relief.
He wants more. He needs it. Shit. He has teased himself for too long now… what? Twenty-five minutes of him kneeling on his own bed, hand cramping within himself as he opens up his own hole?
A high whine escapes from the top of his throat. Damn you, Sebastian.
Ciel glances again at the vibrator. He moves his fingers again, and again. His heart pounds ruthlessly within the cavity of his chest. The tip of the toy is bulbously wide, how in all hells is he supposed to get that inside of himself on his own?
He disgracefully considers calling for his daddy. A sinful, dreadful suggestion from his brain.
Oh, Vincent would hate this.
He would get annoyed, and then he would pretend like the concern was practical. Whether the toy is safe, or if Ciel is allergic to the material.
Then, if everything Ciel knows about his dad holds true, Vincent would become enraged with Sebastian.
Now, that thought makes his stomach roll hotly. Ciel pumps his arousal once. Then again.
He moans once, breathily. It feels good, spread on his mattress with one hand reaching to press inside of him, three fingers slick, curling clumsily. His other hand couldn’t help but to palm clammily at his cock.
The idea of calling for his dad. Vincent coming to find him, seeing this. Ciel pumps his fingers in himself again, curling them in the constricting warmth. Not enough..
An ugly, burning shame fills Ciel’s throat. The prospective humiliation of Vincent coming in would be unbearable.
The prospective humiliation is also currently encouraging Ciel to finger himself with a wanton fervor. He lets out another horrible, undignified moan.
Giving himself a comforting squeeze around his own shaft, he slowly and reluctantly removes his fingers. The frustrating absence of the pressure causes him to groan unpleasantly.
Ciel wipes his hand messily on his shorts, leaving a wet smear of lube on the clothing.
His body knows what he is doing before his rational mind does. He shakily reaches for his smartphone. It slips two centimeters in his grasp before he secures it.
In the reflection of the black screen, he looks embarrassing. Cheeks pink and hair mussed and lips bitten stupid.
His facial recognition still unlocks the device, and Ciel’s thumb hovers uselessly over his father’s contact.
Was he really about to summon his dad to come help him with this?
With a shaky tap of his thumb, Ciel selects his dad’s contact in his phone. He selects the message icon, then simply types one-handedly:
Ciel: daddy
Send.
Ciel locks his phone, dropping it against the blue duvet, letting it land with a soft plat. His hand shoots up to cover his eyes, a high noise escaping from his throat.
Dread expands heavy in his gut. He should not have done that. Shit!
His breathing labors, God. What if Vincent didn’t care? What if he thought Ciel was pathetic? What if he thought Sebastian –
The incoming thoughts of regret naturally halt when his phone screen lights. He reaches forward embarrassingly urgently, glancing down at the notification.
Daddy: What
The contact name, Ciel considers, is privately obscene. He had changed it months ago.
Still, Ciel huffs at the response. So fucking mean. Spitefully now, he types:
Ciel: i need u
The admission is glaringly bold, but Ciel is still hard in his own hand, pulsing desperately against the skin of his palm. He stares at the text message thread, heart giving a jolt at the three typing dots on Vincent’s end.
Daddy: I’m working. Twenty minutes
A groan petulantly escapes Ciel. Dad is always working.
Ciel thinks, then types:
Ciel: are you home tho??
He bites his lip. The worst part is the waiting. He’s shamelessly impatient for his daddy, indeed.
Daddy: Downstairs study
All right, yes, then. Vincent is home, downstairs from Ciel’s room right this second. It shouldn’t take much to get Vincent to climb the staircase and come straight to his room. To open the door, to see him naked from the waist down on his own sheets. The vibrator still resting openly next to him, vulgar just for existing.
A sudden pang of fear pulses in Ciel’s chest. He wanted his dad to want him. The thought of getting rejected is unbearable.
The thought is outrageous. Mortifying, really. Rejected, like Ciel is propositioning his crush.
Before he can wallow in his own suffering, his phone buzzes once more. He looks down, eyebrows raising by half a centimeter.
Daddy: What do you need?
The air inside of Ciel’s lungs freeze. He tries to inhale, oxygen sitting shallowly in his windpipe. Instead, though, he types:
Ciel: i just need you
Something draws tight beneath his ribs at the admission. He hopes his dad will stop asking questions and just come to him.
Ciel grips his cock tightly, softening now from the lack of stimulus and the prospect of rejection. His hand still feels good, but not enough. Nothing is enough.
Daddy: Where are you baby?
Ciel’s heart lurches at the pet name, and his breath catches on a short exhale. Daddy!
Giddily, he taps at the keyboard at his phone with one hand.
Ciel: my room
Then, against his better judgement, he adds:
Ciel: don’t be weird
He locks and throws his phone down against the duvet once more. His bottom lip is sore from sitting between his teeth.
With a look down at his bare bottom half and the shaft of the vibrator next to him, he wonders if this will be too ridiculous. If Vincent will even want to help him, or if he will simply become enraged and call Sebastian in a fuss.
He looks back up at the sound of his bedroom door opening and his eyes catch Vincent’s face, and oh. Daddy looked curious. Inconvenienced still, despite clear interest written within his expression.
Steel-blue eyes wide, eyebrows hitched up a millimeter higher than usual. Disgustingly handsome, always. His top two shirt buttons are undone and his sleeves have been hastily folded up to his forearms.
Vincent looks at him from the doorway, his eyes trailing from Ciel’s face, surely still flushed, down his body at the oversized shirt that covers his torso, and then allowing his gaze to pause at Ciel’s flushed arousal sitting softly now in his hand.
Interest turns into surprise.
Ciel feels a warm sense of something mortifying.
The embarrassment felt out of place – he wasn’t walked in on! He practically invited his dad into his room.
No, he tells himself after a moment’s consideration, not practically – he did invite him in.
Ciel looks up at his dad, face growing hot. “Hey.”
His dad regards him, face twisting into something soft. Warm. “Hey, baby.”
A pause. The silence stretches uselessly between them. Ciel feels his cock growing softer and his belly expanding hotter.
Ciel swallows nothing. “I need help.”
He watches as his dad doesn’t take his eyes off of him. “You called me in here to watch you stroke yourself off?” One eyebrow raises, the same way Ciel has seen it do his whole life.
Ciel feels uneasy under his gaze. “No.” God, he’s in so much trouble.
Vincent glances down again at the duvet. The purple toy sits alone, obvious against the blue sheets.
“What the fuck is that?” Vincent’s face twists again, this time into a hard expression of irritation.
Shit. Ciel looks down at the vibrator, as though it appeared next to him out of nowhere. “Oh.”
“No oh. Ciel, is that a fucking – “ Vincent cuts himself off by reaching towards it. Vincent crosses towards the bed and picks it up, turning it militantly in his hand.
Watching his dad’s face as he examined the toy is torture. Ciel cringes, squeezing his soft cock unconsciously in comfort. “Dad,” he mutters.
Vincent scoffs, still holding the vibrator. “How did you even get this? Did –” His eyes narrow. Oh, God. “Did he give this to you?”
Ciel glares as hard as he can. “He has a name, you know.”
“I know his bloody name.”
Well, Ciel wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Sheepishly sparing another glance down at himself, he feels exposed. His hole still aches from the lack of pressure, the ghost of his own fingers, and his dad wouldn’t stop staring.
Vincent lets out a horribly burdened, hearty sigh. As one would do, if they saw their thirteen year old wet between his hips and bare from the waist down. What he did next, though, didn’t seem like it burdened him at all.
Ciel watches his dad come sit down next to him, the mattress dipping under the added weight. Without meaning to, Ciel leans towards the presence of him. Pathetic.
His father reaches for him, strong hand gently grasping his upper arm, then a caress of his thumb. “I’m not upset with you, sweetheart,” his voice has dropped into something honied.
Ciel shivers from the touch. Yes. “But you’re pissed at him,” he counters.
“He knows better, Ciel,” Vincent grimaces. “Have you…” He seems to struggle on how to phrase it to his thirteen year old, which Ciel grimly resents. “Have you been using this?”
Ciel shrugs. He glances towards the packaging in the corner of his room. “Not really,” he mutters. “I only got it today.”
Vincent follows Ciel’s gaze. His eyes narrow once more at the packaging, as if the cardboard is also just as perverse as Sebastian is.
Ciel’s face feels hot. Shit. “Daddy,” he pleads. “Don’t be weird.”
“How am I supposed to react, Ciel?” Vincent blusters. “A grown man is giving my son sex toys.”
Ciel sits back on his heels, offended. A pang of regret expands throughout the back of his neck. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal,” he remarks snidely. “You touch me all the time.”
He observes Vincent’s mouth opening once, then snapping closed, then opening again. “Honey.” The tone is absolute. Ciel kicks himself for the backtalk, shrinking in on himself.
“Sorry, Daddy,” Ciel looks down again. His bare, damp cock tucked lewdly into the crease of his thigh. He suddenly longed for his underwear.
The look on his dad’s face is unreadable. His strong hand moves from his arm to the side of his neck, achingly gentle. “No, baby, don’t apologize.”
A revolting sensation of relief within Ciel at that. “Okay,” he breathes.
Ciel expects Vincent to leave, to take the toy away and go call Sebastian to… most likely yell at him. Instead, Ciel has a feeling Vincent surprises even himself.
“What were you trying to do?”
A glance at his face. His dad’s expression was open, and so, so familiar. Ciel’s chest hurt. “I was trying to…” he stops himself. Really?
Vincent nods, thumb resting securely against his jaw. “It’s all right,” he assures. “You can tell me.”
How can Ciel not tell him? Isn’t this exactly what he wants? “I wanted to use this,” he gestures towards the vibrator in Vincent’s hand. “And Sebastian wanted a video.”
A roll of his stomach as he watches Vincent’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did he, now?”
Ciel panics. “Daddy!”
“No, you’re fine, Ciel.” Ciel didn’t feel fine, but all right.
This was it, then.
Still, though, Vincent regards him softly, squeezing his neck. His hand moves, then. “You’ve been preparing yourself?” His hand drops between Ciel’s thighs and under his balls.
Ciel gasps. Two fingertips larger than his own pad at his still-slick entrance. “Uh, yeah.”
His daddy rubs his fingers over his entrance once, twice. “God, you’re already opened up.” He sounded pained.
Ciel didn’t answer, he couldn’t. Instead, he kneels up higher, an arm catching around Vincent’s neck. Their faces were merely inches apart now, close enough that the air between them was getting warm from their mingling breath.
As he raises higher, his thighs widen reflexively, giving Vincent better access. The contact at his hole makes his softened cock twitch humiliatingly, but he wants more.
“Will you kiss me?” he whispers to his father. “Please?”
The corner of Vincent’s mouth turns up. He is already leaning in. “Yeah, alright.”
Their mouths meet once. Ciel sighs. Oh.
Their lips move against each other’s tenderly. Vincent drops the vibrator next to them on the bed, his now free hand holding onto Ciel’s waist securely.
Ciel leans in almost as soon as Vincent pulls away from the kiss. “Again,” he tries.
A nod from the man, as if it were obvious. Vile. He meets Ciel halfway, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
His arm tightens around Vincent’s neck. He allows his own lips to be intruded on by his father’s tongue, licking wetly into his mouth.
Just as he opens his mouth sweetly for his daddy, he feels Vincent’s fingers push against his hole, which accepts them easily. Still slick, still soft from his own preparation only minutes earlier. He whines voicelessly into the kiss.
He feels himself suck in the fingers greedily. Much longer, thicker than his own smaller hand. Already, the pressure is reaching that something inside of him that he was craving.
He kisses his father feverishly, knees slipping against the duvet. Vincent’s fingers reach knuckle-deep inside of him. God, he was hard again.
He pulls away this time, a moan escaping him. “Hah, Dad, more.”
Vincent’s breath is hot on his mouth, now wet with their spit. “Here?” a rub of his fingertips inside of him. The sensation sends a jolt between his hips.
“Mm!” Ciel leans his forehead against the crook of Vincent’s neck. “Mhm, please.”
Vincent moves his fingers again. Ciel whines high in his chest. “Sweet boy,” a whisper from his daddy. Ciel preens against him.
He gasps against Vincent’s neck as the fingers inside of him pump in, and out. Again. Vincent sets a lovely pace, rubbing against that spot inside of him each time he thrusts his hand back into his hole.
Ciel’s eyes are squeezed shut. It’s good, it’s really good.
“You think you can take another, sweetheart?” A question against his hair. Another fingertip is already ghosting against his rim.
Ciel nods, yes. “Uh huh.”
The third finger is dry and tight in his entrance before he even answers, though. It’s a larger stretch than three of his own fingers, widening him much further. Vincent’s other hand tightens at his hip, drawing him down on his other hand, allowing his fingers to all sink into him.
Ciel lets out a shocked gasp before another unintelligible noise. A squeak. “Daddy.”
“You’re doing good, baby,” Vincent assures. “So good. God, you’re still so tight,” a breathless laugh from the man. “Shit.”
The fingers curl effectively within him. His cock drips uselessly. He glances down at Vincent’s own crotch, and his head feels dizzy at the hard bulge down Vincent’s trouser leg. Oh, Daddy is hard.
Ciel holds onto him, letting his fingers pump inside of him with a horribly addicting rhythm. Vincent is reaching that pleasurable spot in him, over, and over. Legs spread obscenely wide now, but Ciel doesn’t even care.
Pathetically, he feels the need to cum. His cock isn’t even been touched, but his balls feel tight sitting against his dad’s wrist. He says as much.
“Daddy,” he gasps again. “I wanna cum!”
“Not yet,” Vincent soothes. “Don’t you want to make your little video?”
Ciel freezes, looking up at his dad. “What?”
Vincent’s mouth turns up at the corners again. Handsome. “Doesn’t Sebastian want a video of this inside of you?” His hand pulls out of him slowly, reaching for the toy again.
Ciel winces, empty hole clenching on nothing. He lets out a stupid noise of frustration. “Nng, I think so.”
He watches Vincent’s jaw sets. “That goddamn pervert,” he whispers bitterly. Still, though, Vincent gather’s Ciel’s phone as well, letting the vibrator rest against his clothed thigh as he opens up the camera.
Ciel’s eyes widen so hard, it hurts his head. “Now?!”
Vincent pauses, looking at Ciel like he said something inconceivable. “You agreed to this already, didn’t you?” The softness of his voice didn’t match his expression. Ciel’s heart pounds in time with his arousal.
“I mean…” he trails off. What does he even say?
Vincent sets up the camera against Ciel’s pillows, the front-facing camera catching them in the display, Ciel straddled whorishly over nothing, facing his daddy. Vincent’s profile is captured in the frame as well, the angle obviously showing the bulge within his trousers and the purple toy resting against his leg.
Ciel watches both of them in the frame. A terrible, sinful thing. Horrifyingly, he knows Sebastian will like this. His interest in Ciel’s daddy is obvious, and a delightful development for Ciel, as of late.
He glances up at Vincent. “You want to?”
Vincent sucks in an inhale through his nose and picks up the vibrator. “I wanna make you feel good,” he says instead. A deflection that Ciel accepts eagerly.
He watches with relief as Vincent reaches for the bottle of lube leaning against the pillows next to the propped-up phone. He gathers it close, and then he turns to Ciel. He looks up at his dad expectantly.
“C’mon, honey,” Vincent murmurs. He scoops Ciel up under his backside with a soundless grunt and places him down on his thigh. Ciel gives a small squeak of protest at the manhandling.
“Hey!”
Vincent smooths his hand up to the small of the boy’s back, a familiar touch. “Sorry, baby.”
Ciel squints his eyes accusingly, but his little cock now pressed pleasantly near the bulge of his daddy’s own arousal and he is so, so eager.
Vincent reaches over to the phone camera, pressing the red Record button near the edge of the screen. The timestamp of the recording begins in the top corner of the display. 00:00:01, 00:00:02…
Immediately, the sensation of being on camera feels almost revolting. Ciel presses his face into Vincent’s neck again, this time embarrassment taking ahold of his body,
Vincent nudges his head with his chin. “It’s okay,” he says softly. He kisses the top of Ciel’s head tenderly. He uncaps the bottle of lube with his free hand. His other hand leaves Ciel’s skin and opens behind him. Vincent looks over his narrow shoulders to pour a generous puddle of the lube into his palm with a nasty squelch.
He snaps the plastic cap back in place, dropping the closed bottle down next to them. Ciel watches as his father adjusts the placement as though to not obstruct the camera’s view.
Ciel cannot breathe. Shit. His heart aches with the force of which it’s beating. He can’t believe they’re doing this.
Vincent takes a hold of the toy with his clean hand, spreading the lube copiously on the smooth tip of it. The silicone becomes greasily slick, much less intimidating in this state.
Vincent looks back down at him, meeting his line of sight. He looks up at his daddy, seeking something. Needy for a nameless thing. Before Ciel can even say a word about it, he feels the cool tip of the toy press against the rim of his entrance.
His fathers arms encompass him fully as Vincent reaches around him. Ciel preemptively grips onto the lapels of the partially unbuttoned work shirt. Something stable. Daddy.
Wordlessly, he feels the hot breath of his dad against his cheek as Vincent pushes the head of the soft, slippery toy into Ciel’s softened entrance.
Ciel makes a soft, pained grunt at the solid intrusion. The tip of the device is bulbously wide compared to the middle-base of the shaft. It fucking hurts, despite the ample half-hour of fingering. He grips uselessly at the collar of Vincent’s shirt. “Ah, wait—” he tries.
Vincent doesn’t stop the intrusion. In fact, he glances at the camera once, and pulses the toy in place once. Twice. Again. “Oh, baby,” he practically sighs. Hells! “You’re alright.”
Despite the unbearably uncomfortable stretch, Ciel believes him. God, how could he not, arousal shamelessly hard and leaking? He’s Dad and holding him and was just so perfect.
“Mm, okay,” Ciel attempts, but it’s nothing but a soundless murmur. His ability to use his voice has temporarily left him.
He feels his entrance sucking in the toy. The shaft of the thing narrows as it goes in, relieving the pressure at his rim, thank God.
And oh, oh! The pressure within him is deep, pressing hard against his sensitive prostate unwaveringly. Ciel squeaks out a moan.
Vincent pulls him closer by his waist with his unoccupied hand, Ciel’s thighs widening further. “Lift your hips, honey,” Vincent urges.
Ciel does, unthinking. He arches his lower back, giving Vincent easier access for what he is doing to him. The toy is smooth enough and Ciel’s entrance is needy enough that it gets sucked in to the flat of the base. The flat, round base sits snugly at the bottom of Ciel’s asscheeks, warm from Vincent’s grasp on it. His dad rocks the toy within him, again and again.
The pressure is dizzying. Ciel can’t, he can’t. Paired with the knowledge of the active camera, he feels ill. He has never been more grateful to have his daddy’s safe arms holding him firm against his chest.
“Daddy, please.” His voice breaks as he says it. He doesn’t even know what he is pleading for.
“No, baby boy, you’re doing so good,” his father responds with a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I can’t believe you just took that, Christ.” Vincent did, in fact, sound bewildered.
Ciel whimpers, turning his head to kiss his daddy properly. Vincent obliges, an open-mouthed kiss that has Ciel dripping down his own shaft. Christ.
The grip Vincent has against the toy shifts so that he can get a better hold, and his movements halt. He pulls from the kiss slightly, glancing at the camera, still recording from it’s propped-up position against the pillows. “Oh, that fucker,” he gripes coldly.
Ciel’s eyebrows pull together. “What?”
His daddy says nothing, which alights a warm sense of unease under his sternum. Instead, Ciel feels the shift of the toy inside of him as Vincent fiddles with the base of it.
Ciel tries to look at him. Vincent is looking over Ciel’s back now, concentrating on something. It’s unclear what, until Ciel remembers—
A completely terrible, intense buzzing begins aggressively within him from the toy as Vincent presses the soft button. A violent jolt pulls at Ciel’s body, and he cries out.
“Ah! Oh, fuck!”
His own voice is loud and high in his ears. His head rolls to one side, as though to escape the horrendous vibration within him.
Vincent huff out a humorless laugh. “A fucking vibrator, Jesus Christ,” he mutters. He sounds breathless himself.
Ciel paws pathetically at the fabric of the shirt at his chest. It really is too much, he can’t move. He simply whimpers as he is forced to take the vibration happening within him, and God, he wants to cum.
A tilt of the buzzing toy within him presses the edge of the silicone hard against that wonderful spot inside of him. Vincent pulls the toy back, and does it again.
Ciel yelps. “Dad!” He isn’t sure whether he is going to cry or cum.
“I know,” Vincent says. “I know, God, look at you. Feels good?”
Ciel squeezes his eyes shut. “Mm, yeah,” he moans out. The admission comes without meaning to.
Vincent pulls the toy all the way out, having the widened tip of it vibrate hard against the rim of Ciel’s entrance. The nerves there felt terribly overwrought, almost a numbing sensation. The itch of the vibrating is insufferable.
Oh, and then his daddy pushes the toy back in, and Ciel chokes on nothing. “Oh, Daddy,” he groans wetly.
The object thrusts wildly inside of him, now. A buzzing in-out that fills Ciel’s eyes with tears and has him pulling Vincent’s shirt taut. Another button of the shirt near the top pops loose. His father doesn’t seem to notice, or care.
Ciel tries to keep his noises to a minimum, but that is practically impossible. The vibration hitting against his prostate is fiercely good, it’s almost painful. Truly, it is painful.
A hand at his jaw now, turning his head. Out of his bleary peripheral, Ciel sees them in the display of the camera. Their profiles against each other, the purple of the toy leaving and entering him over and over and over.
Vincent hums, clearly pleased, which warms Ciel’s chest to no end. He reaches his face up a centimeter towards his father, his eyes glancing down at Vincent’s soft, pink mouth.
“Ah, Daddy, kiss me again,” he implores desperately. Please.
Apparently unable to deny him, Vincent kisses him. Their mouths move together in tandem, open-mouthed and wet with spit. Ciel happily accepts Vincents tongue licking out his mouth thoroughly. He sighs against it, allowing Vincent to take his moist exhale within his own mouth.
A strain at Ciel’s lower back from the position is horribly distracting, but the vibrating inside of him isn’t stopping. It’s too much. Ciel tries to pull apart to tell his dad as much, but Vincent holds him by the back of his neck now, keeping him in place.
Oh, fuck, he is going to cum. His balls tighten pleasantly between his legs, length undoubtedly leaking clear, wet fluid. He’s horrendously close. If only he could touch himself…
…and so he does. He reaches between his own legs, palming clumsily at his arousal. It’s sticky and damp, and his own grip on himself feels so amazing paired with Vincent’s thrusting of the vibrator.
His moans must be detestable, now. High and embarrassing and wanton in his throat. In the back of his mind, he remembers the audio from the recording is probably catching it all, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Vincent finally pulls apart from the kiss, and Ciel vaguely notices the sheen of saliva down his chin. “You’re gonna cum, sweetheart?”
“Mhm!” Ciel whines. His breathing is coming shallow and fast, and it’s all too much, too good. “I’m so close, Daddy. I’m really, really – ” he cuts himself off with a gasp, because the vibrator is pressing right into him now.
His daddy halts the thrusting, now, simply rocking the toy deep within him. Ciel has to admit, it’s gloriously pleasurable. More stimulation than he knows what to do with, really.
It doesn’t take much before he feels himself spilling over. With a cry, he cums hard against his daddy. Ejaculate spills from him copiously, dripping lewdly down his cock and onto the shirt over his stomach and Vincent’s trousers.
“Oh, shit,” he sighs.
Vincent keeps at it with his movements, toy pressing inside of him throughout his orgasm. It’s too good, and it quickly becomes a white-hot pleasure, tipping dangerously into a twinge of pain.
“Hah, hah,” he continues to moan against the crook of Vincent’s neck. His hips buck once at the continued stimulation. He lets go of himself, desperate now for the sensation to stop.
“So good, sweetheart,” Vincent murmurs against him. “Very good boy.”
Ciel whines, the praise amplifying the overstimulation. The vibrator is still buzzing ruthlessly inside of him, painful now against his abused prostate. “Take it out, take it out,” he begs.
His legs are shaking, they feel like they’re going to collapse. Vincent absorbs his weight as he tightens one arm around his waist, lifting him as he slides the vibrator out of his ass. “You’re okay, baby,” he soothes as the pressure inside of him disappears.
The toy stays buzzing in Vincent’s hold for a moment before he switches it off behind Ciel, who doesn’t even look back as Vincent drops the slick, used shaft of the thing down on the duvet. Ciel is almost positive his sheets will need to be washed, most definitely now smeared with lube.
He looks up at his daddy, cringing at the nothingness in his entrance. “Hey – hey, what about you?”
Vincent smiles at him. “What about me?”
“You’re…” Ciel looks down at the straining erection down the leg of Vincent’s trousers. “You’re hard.”
Vincent says nothing, smoothing his hand from the crease of Ciel’s bottom up to the back of his neck, like he’s already decided something.
Ciel squirms at the touch. It almost stings, his body still alight from the orgasm. “I can use my mouth, Daddy,” he offers. Most likely too eagerly, but Vincent just made him feel amazing and all Ciel wanted was to make him feel the same way.
It seems as though Vincent’s expression melts. “My baby,” he coos, and then he kisses him.
Ciel easily kisses back. He feels his own cock softening now between his legs. The kiss from Ciel’s end is soft, gentle. His dad’s lips are soft, and he smells like aftershave and sex. Ciel sighs blissfully.
Vincent pulls back a little. “Hold on,” he mutters. “Can you turn around for me?”
Ciel glances to his side, eyes catching the camera from his phone still rolling. “Why?”
Vincent strokes his hand down his spine once again. “Do as I say, Ciel.”
Reluctantly, Ciel does. He’ll do whatever Daddy says, always. He gracelessly lifts himself on shaking knees, turning so that he is sat on his heels. Vincent’s hand guides him for the second half of the movement, urging him to sit neatly between Vincent’s thighs.
Vincent wastes no time kissing over Ciel’s shoulders. He shivers at the contact, his skin sensitive from release.
He turns his head to kiss his father over his shoulder, simply loving having him there. Daddy is warm and strong and Christ, he just came so hard from what Vincent was doing to him a moment ago. His insides still feel hot, and the nerves within his pelvis burn from the phantom vibration.
His mouth moves enthusiastically in tandem with his daddy’s. Slick, sticky from heated spit. The kiss was all-encompassing, so much so that Ciel doesn’t notice the fumbling of fabric behind him.
For now, he simply deepens the kiss, safe and warm in his dad’s arms.
・・・・・
An uncontrollable, dreadful fire crawls beneath the surface of Vincent’s skin as he holds his boy. Pliable and small between his legs, kissing with such trust that it makes Vincent’s heart lurch within his chest.
He fiddles with the buttons of his trousers, pulling them open. His hand trembles so lightly that Ciel surely won’t notice. Sebastian, observant son of a bitch, would have definitely noticed if he were here.
The bastard isn’t here, however. Instead, Vincent is strikingly aware of his son’s smartphone recording audio and video of their sin. If Sebastian wanted a show, Vincent decided the pervert was going to get one.
That, and Vincent has the unholy, horrendously mortifying need to push his hard cock deep into his little boy and fuck him.
Ciel was still too sensitive for that. Just Vincent’s kisses along the line of his shoulders caused gooseflesh to prickle about the entire visible surface of the boy’s neck.
Speaking of which, the boy still had on that oversized shirt. That simply won’t do. Vincent reaches around his son, and pulls at the hem. “Can I take this off, baby?”
Ciel squirms cutely against him. “Um, yeah, Daddy,” he breathes against Vincent’s mouth.
He pulls the shirt off the boy easily, leaving him completely bare against him. Vincent’s partially clothed chest was pressed against the warm skin of his baby’s back, his clavicle absorbing the body heat directly from skin to skin from when Ciel further opened his shirt.
Ah, and the boy was so eager, too. Eager to please, eager to be pleased. It may have been Sebastian’s atrocious idea to put a vibrator in his son, but it was Ciel who orgasmed so whorishly from the act. Dirty boy.
Vincent clutches at the flat of Ciel’s stomach, hand sliding down to rub pointlessly at the sensitive baby-cock between the boy’s legs.
Ciel twitches in his arms. “Daddy! No,” he protests, twisting his head away from Vincent’s face. “It’s sensitive.”
Another indulgent stroke, just to have his boy squirm again. “Sorry, honey.” He withdraws his hand.
Ciel sighs, and predictably, melts into Vincent’s chest. “That’s okay,” he sighs sweetly.
Vincent’s entire body tightens excitedly. Cute.
He really can’t wait any longer, not unless he wanted to cum within the confines of his clothes. Vincent pulls down the zipper of his trousers, gripping his arousal beneath his underwear as he pulls it free.
Vincent strokes himself once, spreading the copious amount of pre-cum down the length of his arousal. His own cock is slippery and throbbing almost painfully in his hand, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck into his boy’s softened, used little hole. Please.
His clever boy seems to catch onto what Vincent is planning. He grumbles in front of him, wriggling uselessly. “Dad, no,” he tries. “I can’t, I can’t.”
Vincent shamelessly, overwrought with a hot lust, shushes him gently. “You’re okay,” he assuages, consciously keeping a gentleness about his voice.
He knows his son wants it, little baby slut that he is. It would be far from the first time that Ciel has had his ass be pounded into, a familiar thought that makes an ugly possessiveness rise into Vincent’s shoulders. He grips onto the boy’s waist tightly with one hand.
Lining up the head of his wet cock with his boy’s entrance took barely any effort, what with him lifting Ciel high on his little knees, angling both of them just so.
“Please, no,” Ciel gasps. The rim of his ass twitches endearingly at the contact. Oh, his baby did want it. Still, though, the little brat protests. “It’s too sensitive, Daddy.”
Vincent huffs out an almost-laugh, because shit. He has never wanted anything more in his life. “Trust me, honey.”
Ciel whimpers. All hope is lost in the effort of resistance. Vincent holds the base of his cock in his hand and guides himself into the slick, welcoming heat of the boy.
His son spasms against him, and Vincent holds onto the cinch of the narrow little waist to hold him in place. “Hah, ah! Oh,” a wordless exclaim from the pretty little thing.
The inside of the boy is still tight, and God, if it wasn’t already so wet, Vincent is sure he would have finished preemptively right in that moment. The combination of lube and pre-cum lessen any unnecessary friction that would cause that embarrassment.
Vincent kisses the side of his son’s head affectionately as he pushes himself farther into the slick, tight channel. He knows he is beginning to moan out against the temple of the boy. “You feel so good,” he whispers, and he can fucking hear the reverent quality in his voice.
Even Ciel is half-hard again, little prick rising between his hips slowly. Little cock-hungry sweetheart. “Daddy, I can’t do it.” More pleading. Oh, baby.
Another kiss, this time beneath his ear, upon the corner of the boy’s jaw. “But you are,” he breathes out the encouragement.
Ciel whines, and his back arches deliciously. Vincent uses this opportunity to push himself all the way in. Heavens.
It’s quite constricting, it’s impossible for Vincent to lie to himself now. It’s so tight. How? He had just spend the better part of a quarter of an hour fucking the boy with the little toy Sebastian had given him.
Oh, Sebastian. Vincent almost smiles. The knowledge that Sebastian will watch their sex tape later, watching as his perverted plan backfires heinously. The bastard was probably hoping he’d receive evidence of Ciel fumbling about by himself, clumsily fucking himself on the lewd vibrating toy. Tch.
Instead, Sebastian would receive this. Vincent claiming his own boy, a digital branding, of sorts. Testimony of the possession of his son. Mine.
Vincent glances at the camera once again, and he can feel the corner of his mouth curving into something. A snarled smile, more or less.
He turns his attention back to his baby, who is taking his cock like he was born for it. Vincent thrusts into him, hard. He gasps against the soft slate-blue hair beneath his chin.
Ciel gasps too, body wracking with oversensitivity. A beautiful little whimper from the boy, encouraging Vincent to fuck into him again, and again.
He can feel the dampness of sweat gathering at the back of his neck, the effort from the fucking catching up with the wear of his body. The boy, too, the back of his thighs sticky when Vincent grabs ahold of him for a better grip.
The little prick between the boy’s hips isn’t rising to its full hardness, but how could it? It has only been minutes since the boy spilled messily over the both of them.
Ciel groans, tilting his head back against Vincent’s shoulder. “Please, please,” he moans out.
Vincent pounds into him now, paying no mind to the strain in his own thighs. It’s too good, and Vincent knows his boy is pleading for it to stop. He can’t bring himself to care, chasing the orgasm that is tight within his balls.
“You’re so good, honey,” a breathless whisper. Barely anything. “It won’t take much longer.”
Vincent feels the trembling from the small body, crying now. Pathetic little sweetheart.
He is true to his word, it hardly takes anything else before Vincent feels his groin tighten hotly, a warning that he is going to spill into the boy.
Vincent inhales sharply, the sweet scent of his son’s skin filling his nostrils. An addictive thing, he inhales again, fueling the animalistic thrusting of his hips. More, more.
His arms move to wrap around him now, holding him close with one arm tight around his torso and another at his hip. He reaches again for the boy’s reddened arousal, which twitches beautifully in his hand.
“No, ah!” Another protest from the kid, Jesus. “I’m gonna– I’m really gonna cum –”
Vincent strokes him rapidly in time with his thrusts. Yes. “What is so wrong with that?”
“It hurts!”
Vincent moans, the concession causing a pool of undiluted pleasure within him. “You know I love you so much, baby,” he utters. He can’t help it.
“I – wait,” the boy tries. “Love you,” he answers. “Love you, I love you.” The declarations come lewdly in time with the fucking. It’s obscene, and seems to distract the boy from the overstimulation of their coupling. Very good.
Vincent hums against his skin. “Yes, so let me.”
His son cries harder in his arms now, but he nods desperately.
He brings both of them to release, after that. He pumps his hand as pressingly as he fucks his cock into the boy, fervently and eagerly.
A grunt from him as he spills over, filling his boy. He knows his moans will be more than audible on the video.
The same goes for his son, a squeaking, high series of grunts as his overwrought baby cock is flicked to an unwilling orgasm.
Vincent grinds his used cock into the kid, a sensation that is too good but also too much. His hand is covered in a clearer semen than what Ciel ejaculated before, and oh, the boy was really not ready to cum again so soon.
The phone is still rolling when Vincent glances over. He reads the timestamp as he reaches for it to stop the recording: 00:32:41.
Now that the camera is off, Ciel whimpers again. His ass is still stretched wide upon his daddy’s softening arousal. “Is it over?”
Vincent sighs pleasantly against his hair. “Yeah, honey. It’s over,” he says. “You did good.”
He feels the boy, once again, melting into him from the praise. Vincent holds him close, enjoying the clench of his entrance before it becomes painful.
Pulling his cock out of the boy is accompanied by a vulgar, slopping wet squish. Ciel winces unsubtly.
“I know, Ciel,” he murmurs. “Hold on.”
Once pulled out, he perversely watches the wet amalgamation of semen and lube drip down the boy’s thighs, a sense of satisfaction filling him behind his ribs.
Even still, he turns the boy around, pulling him close and kissing him properly on the mouth. Ciel is quite yielding in his arms, holding onto Vincent’s shoulders with shaky little hands.
Vincent deepens the kiss then, unable to keep himself from extending their affection. His son is perfect.
A moment later, still naked and malleable in his arms, Ciel pulls away, glancing at his phone now cooling on the bed.
Vincent follows his gaze, a grin curving at his mouth. “There, you have your video now.”
“I can’t send that to him!”
“And why not?”
Ciel flushes redder than he has all evening. Pretty. “Because!”
Vincent has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, honey. Sebastian has seen worse.”
This seems to exacerbate Ciel’s mortification, actually. “I just can’t, Daddy!”
“Don’t be ungrateful for your gift, Ciel.” Vincent has to hide his grin.
The boy pouts. Tch. “I’m not ungrateful.”
Vincent does grin, then. “Mm. Clearly.”
Ciel covers his beautifully blushing face with his hands. Poor baby. Vincent almost feels bad, until he remembers that his son flounces about life whoring his entire existence to Sebastian of all people.
“You were already going to send him a video,” Vincent reminds him. His heart hammers with a thrill. All hells.
Ciel considers, laying back rather lewdly against his pillows. That boy. Still, though, he looks thoughtful. “I was.”
Vincent scowls at the admittance. Slut.
Ciel notices. “Daddy.”
The boy uses his foot to gently hook around Vincent’s head to draw him closer. Vincent raised an eyebrow. Really?
Still, Vincent goes easily. He grasps the boney little ankle, wrapping one skinny little leg around his hips. He cups Ciel’s face, then. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.”
Ciel sighs, as if this entire situation were one big inconvenience. Brat. “I suppose I will.”
A twinge of a headache between Vincent’s ears. “You’re unbelievable.”
Ciel ignores him, reaching for his phone. A mistake.
Vincent knows Ciel realizes as much when he decides to tickle the brat at his ribs, leaving him squirming and shrieking apologies.
“A spoiled brat,” he mutters as he jabs underneath the boys arms, Ciel’s panicked laughter drowning out his words.
Ciel pants against him once Vincent has decides he’s had enough. “Daddy!”
Vincent stares. “Send it.” He rolls beside Ciel, a view of the screen of the phone to ensure the boy keeps his promise. A tightening behind Vincent’s ribs as it dawns on him what Sebastian is about to receive.
With a few taps on his phone, Vincent watches as Ciel selects Sebastian’s contact. Sebastian ♡. Vincent frowns at the heart. Whatever.
Ciel sends the video to Sebastian, and then promptly locks his phone.
He sighs once more. “Okay, done.”
Vincent turns to face him on his side, arms crossed over his chest. “Now, that wasn’t so hard.”
A glare from the boy. “Daddy.”
Vincent uncrosses one arm, running his hand from Ciel’s bare shoulder up to the back of his neck. “I’m joking.”
Ciel looks unconvinced. Vincent pulls him in for another kiss. Bad. They had already wasted almost an hour of their evening.
His son doesn’t seem to mind, though. He kisses back sweetly for his daddy.
Both of them intend to continue letting the evening waste away.
・・・・・
Across London, Sebastian’s flat is quiet.
Then, his phone buzzes once.
Sebastian looks at the phone across his bedroom. He then looks at the clock. He can’t help the devilish, wicked grin sneaking into his expression. No one except for about two people would be texting him at this hour.
It most likely is not Vincent, which means…
Sebastian walks over, picking up the device and turning it on.
Ciel: Attachment: 1 Movie
There isn’t any hesitation when he taps on the message.
Now, Sebastian isn’t a man surprised by many things. Vincent appearing in the thumbnail of the video Ciel sent, however, is enough to make his eyes widen.
He opens the video player, and the recording begins automatically. Sebastian watches with a horrible, vicious interest as the profiles of both Vincent and Ciel on the screen move.
Ciel immediately dips his flushed little face into his beautiful daddy’s shoulder, embarrassed thing. Vincent murmurs something too quiet for the microphone to have picked up as he lubes up the purple vibrator.
Sebastian looks at the toy onscreen in Vincent’s hand. Oh, my. Was the man about to use it on his little boy? How horrendous of him.
He has to sit down on the bed. He cannot believe Vincent Phantomhive of all people agreed to this. Desperate man.
Watching the man push the toy into his own son is one thing Sebastian didn’t expect to see today in HD. It’s insanely delicious to watch the boy cling to his daddy wildly, pleased beyond measure at taking something up his little hole.
Oh, the little thing is taking it well, too. Sebastian’s own cock jolts as Vincent has Ciel take the whole thing.
An unholy thing, to take out his erection at the sight. A father touching his son in such a way, it shouldn’t please Sebastian. He shouldn’t get hard at the sight of the beautiful man holding his just as pretty boy against him.
When Vincent discovers that the vibrator is in fact a vibrator, Sebastian almost laughs out loud. The flushed look of surprise and vindication on the man’s usually cold face is something Sebastian hopes to never forget.
Ah, and the pretty baby’s reaction. Sebastian knew he would like it, being filled and having the pleasurable spot inside of him tended to by constant buzzing. The slut more than enjoyed it, and Sebastian strokes his cock as Ciel orgasms his way through the stimulation. Fuck.
Sebastian taps on the screen. He is only thirteen minutes into the recording.
He huffs out a laugh. Disbelief.
This is the point when Sebastian realizes the video may have been Vincent’s idea after all.
He watches, a lustful incredulity about him, as Vincent hungrily coaxes the boy to turn around. Sebastian knows what he has planned from the familiar, fiery look in his eyes. He has seen it a thousand times over,
He still did not realize Vincent had it in him to force himself so gently upon his own son.
Sebastian watches it in lecherous horror.
Unfortunately, an abhorrent sensation overcomes him as he realizes this is most certainly one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.
The boy was made for it, Hells. His back arches just so, Vincent’s wet, blushed dick fucking into him at a pace so desperate that Sebastian did in fact smile.
Oh, and Vincent. The man was pathetic, clearly not able to stop himself. Frenzied as he sought out his release within the boy.
The way Ciel was so trusting of his daddy was an entirely separate matter. The sweet, wanton thing let his father have his body, as long as he was being held safe against his chest, the baby would apparently let Vincent get away with murder.
Deplorable, the both of them.
It can’t be helped, though. Sebastian needed release now, as well. How inconvenient, hard within his own grasp in such unfledged manner. He hadn’t even decided to begin touching himself, Christ.
Even still, Sebastian pumped his hand down the hardness of his arousal. He watched diligently at the digital art before him as he brought himself to a biting, hot release with a grunt.
The recording was over, now. Screen paused on the last frame of Vincent reaching over and ending the video, still deep inside his own son as he did so.
Sebastian breathes deeply, shoulders rising and falling as he leans back on his now unoccupied hand. He looks down at himself, now messy as he’s spilled his leavings upon his trousers and his hand. Tch. He’ll have to clean up now.
He closes his eyes. God, those two. He can’t leave them alone for one evening without them both turning into pathetic little harlots.
He picked up his phone with his clean hand and types one handedly. He looks at the message he typed. Deletes it. Types again. He decides on:
Sebastian: You are made for the limelight, darling.
He doesn’t expect Ciel to reply right away, not when the boy is with his father, who had very clearly claimed him on film tonight. That’s precisely the reason Sebastian is surprised that before he can even clean himself up, his phone buzzes.
He looks down at the screen.
Ciel: oh my god
Sebastian actually laughs. A wicked exclaim. The baby is mortified, rightfully so. He had just documented himself being forcibly fucked by his father, and liking it.
Another buzz from the phone in his hand.
Ciel: u liked it?
He stares incredulously at his phone. Liked it? Oh, naïve little boy.
Sebastian types before Ciel can send himself into a panic.
Sebastian: It was more than my imagination could’ve supplied. You’re both delicious.
He puts down his phone, exhaling into the quiet of his bedroom.
The image of the sinful, unholy coupling was one of which Sebastian would not forget for a very, very long time.
He tucks himself back into his underwear, grimacing at the stickiness within his clothes now. Shit. He would have to shower tonight, most definitely.
As he makes his way to the bathroom, he strips off the charcoal button up adorning his torso. He handles each button with extreme care, much like he does the vast majority of things in his life.
He strips, turning on the shower to a pleasantly warm temperature.
His cell phone buzzes again on the bathroom counter. A phone call, this time. Sebastian leans over to look at the caller ID.
Vincent.
Sebastian, naked in his own bathroom, decides against his better judgement and answers the call. His finger slides the green accept button across the bottom of his screen.
It’s silent for half a second, which pleases Sebastian to no end. He smiles against the receiver of his phone.
“Good evening, Vincent.”
He can practically hear the scowl. “Is it?”
Sebastian hums. “You tell me.”
Vincent clicks his tongue once. Impatient little man. “No, you tell me.”
A sigh. Heavens, the man is intransigent.
Sebastian lets the pause stretch, purposefully. Vincent makes a thoughtful sound. “Are you in the shower?”
Sebastian keeps the phone at his ear, turning to look at the running water behind him. “And if I am?”
“Your phone will get wet.”
Ridiculous. “No, Vincent, I am not in the shower.”
“I hear the water running.”
“Yes, you interrupted me.”
Vincent seems agitated. Good.
“As grateful as I am to have been graced with a call from you, the water is getting cold,” Sebastian muses. The water had in fact just been turned on, but Vincent didn’t have to know that. “Why are you calling?”
The man on the other end is quiet for a moment. Then: “You’re a disgusting pervert.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows shoot up. An amused grin stretches his mouth wide. “Ah.”
“Don’t ah me, Sebastian! You gave my son a vibrator,” Vincent snaps. “You shipped it to my bloody house.”
A warmth within Sebastian’s sternum. Oh, Daddy is angry. “You seemed to be grateful enough. I watched your cinematic debut, Vincent.” Then, before the man could protest brattishly, “You are really quite lovely.”
Sebastian tries not to bask in the sound of Vincent gawking on the other end of the line. “You’re psychotic.”
“Mm. Yet you’re the one who got off on raping his own son,” Sebastian reflects. “If I’m psychotic, what does that make you?”
Vincent snarls. “Be careful.”
“Or what?” Oh, this is delightful.
“You got off on it too.”
Sebastian tries not to be shocked at the blunt and very on-the-nose accusation. Look at Vincent, surprising him twice in one evening.
“You’re quite beautiful, you know,” he murmurs.
“And you’re a fucking degenerate.”
“You always know just what to say to flatter me.”
Vincent laughs humorlessly. “Fuck you.”
He can’t help it. “Perhaps it’ll be me who fucks you.”
He hears nothing from the other end. Ah, has he rendered Vincent speechless?
“If only you’d let me carry on with my evening, I can come by tomorrow,” he tacks on as an afterthought.
A thoughtful pause on the other end of the line, this time. “Tomorrow. Come by at seven.”
Sebastian grins. “I’ll bring Malbec.”
Vincent makes a disgusted ick. “I fucking hate Malbec.”
“Then I’ll bring nothing,” Sebastian counters.
The man hums irritatedly. “Tomorrow. Seven.”
“Will Ciel be there?” Sebastian wonders.
“Of course you’d ask that.”
“Well?”
Vincent sighs. “He fucking lives here. He’ll be there.”
The implication is there before either man can name it. How lovely, Sebastian delights.
“See you then, Vincent.”
“Fine.”
Vincent hangs up, a continuous beeping in Sebastian’s ear at the dead line. A sinister, awful smile now.
Sebastian turns his phone over on the counter, turning back to the running shower. He pulls aside the shower door, stepping inside.
Ciel’s gift was a worthy investment, indeed.