Rouge (Grell Sutcliffe x Male!Reader)(Part 1 of 2)

You took a long drag from your ciggerette, puffing your own private storm clouds into the sky. The rich smell of nicotine was bitter and burnt. You were quite the sight to see for a Shinigami, the supposed Gods of the underworld. Your tie was limp on your chest, the knot a loose joke. Viscera stained the cuffs of your once pristine white shirt. Overall, you looked like total shit.

It had been a pretty hard night. Children, children were always the worst to deal with. Something so morbid in seeing a tiny body in such an adult stage in life. Or death, rather. A grisly carriage crash on their way home from their Grandmother's estate. They were all sleeping in the back seat when it happened, didn't feel a thing. All were sorted and categorized, and luckily enough, all were sent to the gates of Heaven. The greasy part of the matter was watching the Cinematic Records.

For most people, you saw their wedding, child birth, loss of virginity, so on and so forth. Kids were a simpler folk, only brief, sketchy flashes of birthdays or their favorite pet. Achingly short. You were still raw to your work, being a younger Reaper, it would take time for your sense of morals to scab over. Your death scythe was a bloody mess at your side. Needed to be cleaned before it dried, you would get to it later.

Your legs dangled off the lip of the building roof, the stiff breeze fluttering your black shoe laces. You liked taking to the roof tops, just watching London take its courses. You could see every one of them but they couldn't see you. It was perfectly calm and peaceful.

"Why hellooo Gorgeous~" A voice drawled to your left, startling the wits out of you.

You gave a sideways glance at the figure propped against the chimney. You didn't even have to see the death scythe to know he was a reaper. Mr. Sutcliffe was a rather infamous member of the organization, and extraordinarily hard to forget. Whether it was his flamboyant uniform, flirtatious personality, or slight mental instability, Grell made an imprint.

You snuffed the cigarette out on a shingle, lifting an eyebrow.

"Any particular reason why you're here?"

"Don't be like that, darling. I just wanted to greet the newest head Reaper, give a warm welcome, congratulate you on your promotion." He grinned deviously, exposing a bridge of saber teeth.

You had to keep up a facade of disinterest to disguise your sensitive spot. If one were to ask your co-workers William or Ronald about any weak links in your condition, the first word to pass their lips would be "Sutcliffe." Any day of the week a person could find you lounging in your cubicle, gazing across the room instead of writing your reports. Grell's desk was a stones throw from yours, his back facing you. A spot of fabulous red in the dreary office's of the Shinigami.

He was absolutely beautiful. Pointed features, milky white skin, and a voice to kill for. You, on the other hand, were a dot under the radar. In the entirety of your first few years at headquarters (as a trainee Shinigami), Grell hadn't once said hello to you. You had attempted to ask him out a few hundred years ago, presenting the ginger with a bundle of red roses, only to receive the reply of "Who are you again?"

"Thank you, then." You nodded, hopping up.

Of course, you were wary. When you lived in the shadows, you had to be. Anything suspicious was reanalyzed and harshly dealt with, and a crush taking a 180 in interest, why, is there anything more suspicious?
"Where are you going?"

"Home, need to wash up, shower or something.

"Hm, may I join?" He giggled, trailing after you across the curvature of the roof.

You blushed a fierce scarlet, ducking your face before the moonlight could expose your embarrassment, A vivid image came to mind of Grell in your bath, and it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

"I'll take this one solo, sir." You gave a lazy salute, hopping off the roof and onto the awning of a flower shop.

Grell was quick to follow, skipping along your footsteps as you crossed from building to building.

"Can I help you with something?" You turned to face him on an overhang attached to the library.

"Maybe you can..." He sang, taking a seat on the humped back of a stone gargoyle. "What do you know of the Phantomhive family?"

"Eh, not much. British upper crust, right hand men to the Queen, still around I believe. Little boy named Ciel, alive last time I checked. I reaped the souls of both sets of his grandparents. Seemed to be a lively young lad from their memories. He'd be about, twelve, thirteen."

"Ciel is very much alive, and a thorn in Williams side. At least his butler is. A demon, an incredibly sexy demon. And I want your help winning his heart."

"Lord Phantomhive?"

"No, you oaf! The demon."

You felt disdain curl in your stomach like a rotted snake. One, the man you had practically lived for found someone else. Two, said lucky man was a filthy demon. And three, this redheaded bastard was asking you for dating advice.

"How do you expect me to do that?" You spoke through your teeth, a sweaty grip on the staff of your scythe.

"There is going to be an absolutely darling little ball for Ciel's thirteenth birthday. Half of Europe is invited. We can just slip in amongst the nobles. The way I figure, if my sweetheart is to see me on the arm of the poster boy of tall, dark, and handsome, he'll be dying to have me in his arms again!"'

Grell had the amazing ability to make you feel both insulted and charmed.

"You want me to be your fake date to make your boyfriend jealous?"

"Exactly!" He squealed, hopping up and down.

You pushed up your thin rimmed glasses, weighing your options. Grell was going to lust over this 'Sebastian' no matter what your response was. And if it was a no, he'd snag someone else to play the Mr. Right for the ball.

On the pro side, This could be an opportunity, your only opportunity, to go on a date with your dream man. On the con side, you could somehow sway the demon into interest on Grell.

"What do you say?" Grell asked, grinning brightly.

"Sure. What's the worst that could happen?"