#cieltaker

Moans bounce the white walls of Undertaker's living room, empty except for the black leather sofa lined against one side. Ciel, seventeen, in his uniform blazer with his slacks pulled down to his knees, has his hands pressed against the empty wall to the left of the sofa. He breathes, strained cry after strained cry as Undertaker drives his thick length in and out of his tight hole, made slippery by the man's come and oil-based lubricant combined. The sound of skin slapping skin reverberates through the room, joining the hymn of moans that keep spilling from thin lips.

Undertaker's hands roam the minor's narrow back, sharp, black fingernails marking red across white skin. Ciel senses long fingers trying to push his torso downward, trying to make his torso parallel to the floor, but he presses upward against the force. He doesn't want to go any lower. Not today. His muscles ache from club activities, and he wants to lie down. Yet here he is, succumbing to the teacher's needs. Much like he always does anyway.

With a thrust more forceful than others, Undertaker makes Ciel collapse unto the wall. The boy's arms fold upon the force. His elbows hit the wall so powerfully, Ciel is sure they will bruise tomorrow.

"Asshole." Ciel mutters under his breath. His forehead is against his arms now. He keeps moaning unto the wall, noticing moisture gathering where his breath hits.

"My, my, what a foul mouth." Undertaker laughs. "You must be stressed from school today."

Ciel rants away. "Fucking Mr. Spears--" He pants hard, trying to calm his breathing enough so he could speak. "--had me do 20 laps more than everyone else today."

"My, what a brute." Undertaker thrusts harshly once more, driving Ciel against the wall, scratching for support, screaming at the intensity. "Maybe he likes you."

"I doubt." Ciel's eyes flutter when the older man thrusts against his prostate, a silent whimper quaking on his lips.

"Hmm?" Undertaker asks innocently. "Did that feel good?"

The young boy bites his lips. "No."

"You should be more honest, Ciel." Undertaker's voice sings the boy's name in a trill. He grabs thin hips tightly, and thrusts harshly with every syllable as he speaks. "Good. Boys. Don't. Lie."

Ciel's eyes flutter at the intensity, moaning loudly at each forceful shove. By the final thrust, he comes hard unto the wall, tainting white liquid upon white. Undertaker, however, continues to thrust into him, his climax not arriving just yet. While the man thrusts for his climax, Ciel simply limps unto the white wall, hoping he finishes soon.

Undertaker comes minutes after, making Ciel hard and coming once more in between. Now he's turned the young boy toward him, trapping him between his arms upon the wall. With one hand, he cups the boy's chin so he looks up at him. The young boy's eyes are defiant.

"Just like your father." He whispers, chuckling endlessly right after. Ciel doesn't understand what's so amusing.

***

Rain pattering on the window, Ciel lies on top of Undertaker on the sofa, chest to chest. Undertaker plays with the boy's hair as Ciel reads through his assignment. The boy jolts when he remembers.

"Ah, right. I got you a present."

"Oh?" Undertaker's eyes follow the boy who walks up to his backpack and takes out a box of cookies. "I got Sebastian to make these." He throws the box to Undertaker. "You like those biscuits, right?"

Undertaker laughs, opening the lid. He inhales the sweet scent of biscuits. "How kind of you, boy. Still can't do anything without that butler, eh?"

"Shut up."

Undertaker sits up to eat his cookies, unfortunately for Ciel. Instead of sitting beside Undertaker, space now available on the sofa, Ciel prefers to place himself upon the man's thighs. He munches on biscuits Undertaker feeds him from time to time as he continues reading his book.

"Will he be coming with dinner?"

"Yeah. He should be here soon."