"'Ey! I can handle m'self just fine!" he protested rubbing the blond hair on the back of his neck with a single hand. "I only blew up the kitchen like, four'een times!" He shook his head, grumbling. "A'right, a'right. Fine."
Ciel writhed beneath the covers until he was comfortable. The bed was beginning to get too warm with all of his movements, and finally the sleeping Phantomhive managed to toss the blankets off of himself.