[ooc log post] Squalo + Xanxus.
Who: Squalo and Xanxus.
When: Right after log here.
Where: Varia Headquarters, Italy. Squalo's room + corridor.
What: Xanxus and Squalo talking.
Why: Because.
Note: Nobody saw this.
Xanxus was already in bed by the time Squalo came back into the room, his back to the door and the blanket up to his chin. He ignored Squalo's entering, choosing instead to try and be asleep, though the tense line across his shoulders more than likely gave away the fact that he was most certainly not asleep yet. There wasn't much of a chance a restful sleep would come that night, anyway; more of an unconscious period than actual sleep. He laid there like that for a few moments more before he finally spoke, voice half muffled by the blanket. "Been shown to his room, has he?"
His gaze first landing on the figure of Xanxus in his bed, whatever words he might have spoken to the other's back falling into silence at the hard, tense line of his shoulders, Squalo clenched his teeth slightly and walked over towards the bed, pausing only long enough to kick off his shoes and gingerly laying himself down beside Xanxus. He probably should have taken at least one more of the pills, but Squalo's eyes were wide open as they stared up at the dark ceiling, absently counting the other's breathing out of sheer habit (he used to count his own heartbeat in the dark, seeing how low he could get the count down in a minute).
He made no acknowledgement or a show of surprise to Xanxus being awake (he already knew) and only turned his head a fraction towards the other's direction, the quiet words carrying easily in the silence. "..Yeah."
"Mm. Good." Xanxus gazed at Squalo for a moment then, feeling like he was supposed to do something. Move closer. Reach out. Touch him. Something. But that something just wasn't in his nature, was it? It never had been. Never learning proper affection meant he would never know how to give proper affection. Thus? Glass throwing. "Good night, then," he finally settled on and he closed his eyes, actually looking to fall asleep now. Xanxus had stayed awake only to wait (to make sure) for Squalo to join him. He hadn't lied earlier when he said he was exhausted.
Squalo stopped counting when Xanxus started speaking, banishing the numbers to the back of his head and merely making an affirming noise in his throat. But... Squalo sighed, pushing himself up on his good elbow with a hidden wince. "--Xanxus?" he said, after a few minutes of silence, glancing down at the half-lit figure shadowed in the darkness of the room. If he was asleep, then it could wait until tomorrow. If he was still awake...then. (he'd never been good at planning things out through)
The shifting and the talking were not incredibly conducive toward getting any sort of sleep. Xanxus tried to ignore it for a few moments before he finally let out a faint sigh and opened his eyes. He glanced up toward Squalo, half-hovering over him as far as he could tell (the silhouette was all he had to go by, after all; it was later than he thought) and eventually Xanxus propped his head on a hand. "What?"
It was hard to make out anything in the half-darkness and Squalo blinked slowly, just making out the glint of the red eyes before he just exhaled sharply. "Why are you sleeping here?" It wasn't like his room was any more comfortable than any of the guest rooms, and from experience he knew that Xanxus would much rather move to a hotel than sleep in a less than perfect room. He could, perhaps, probably guess at the reasons why, but right now Squalo preferred to hear it from the other himself. Hell, he couldn't fucking sleep like this, anyway.
"Because," Xanxus muttered, his voice low mostly from the habit of conversing quietly when there was no light, "there's blood on my sheets. Your blood. So it would only make sense that I usurp your bed until that's taken care of." And it was an excuse, nothing but an excuse; a big part of the real reason was sleeping in a guest room in another part of the house, as far away from here as Xanxus could manage, but not so close to the damage he had caused to the mansion that in going in the room one would risk falling through the floor.
"Change your fucking sheets." Squalo replied, lowering his voice slightly to match the other's tone as he shifted again, moving to pull the sheets over to his side a little and settling down again onto his back with a muffled hiss. "It's not my fucking fault."
"No." When Squalo had settled back down again, Xanxus did as well, though he rolled until he was on his stomach. He draped an arm across Squalo, below the injured arm, and turned his head so it was facing away from the swordsman. "I wanted to fucking sleep here, so I'm going to fucking sleep here."
The swordsman was silent for a moment, shifting again with a grunt to get comfortable before falling silent again. Though... "--What the fuck happened," he breathed out into the air above them after a moment, eyes wide open; the pain in his shoulder distracted him from getting any sleep for the present moment, "before?"
Xanxus had to think about that, himself. Everything was lost in a sea of white-hot flame. He had to peer through the fire in order to see what happened. "He asked who shot you, I said I did. He got pissed, I got pissed. He said I was a fucking monster trying to take away your happiness, I almost shot him in the fucking head but instead took out half the mansion." Xanxus paused for a second and eventually grunted. "After that, I'm completely blank until I headed up the stairs back to here."
At that, Squalo glanced sharply beside him at the other, though he couldn't catch Xanxus' expression, merely seeing the dark head of hair turned away from him. Not that he'd have been able to see anything, in any case, but that wasn't the fucking point here, was it? The corners of his lips tightened for a brief moment, blinking a few times before opening his mouth. The words floated up into his head much slower than he would have liked. "...Why would he say that?"
"How the fuck should I know?" Xanxus grumbled, and eventually he turned his head so he could look at Squalo's outline again. "He doesn't get it," he finally said, and he moved the hand that was draped across Squalo up so he could run his fingers across the bandages around the swordsman's shoulder. "Doesn't understand why I did this. Thinks it's only 'cause of him. Fucking ego." Like he was one to talk, but that wasn't the point.
There was the barest hint of a flinch at the touch as Squalo breathed in sharply, almost regretting not taking another dose of the pills before settling down on the bed; it was too late to get back up and hobble across the room for them, now. "Why?" He glanced back at Xanxus again, his expression half-hidden in the darkness a mixture of annoyance and pain, and a hint of confusion as well. "You fucking know you don't need any more fucking proof, I-"
Xanxus heaved a sigh and shifted his arm again so it was once more just across Squalo's body. "Probably for the same fucking reason I almost shot him in the head tonight," he said, his eyes on Squalo's shoulder--it was about all he could see in the darkness. "Because I fucking can. Because that's how I fucking express myself. There's no better way to get the point across then a god damn bullet or ten."
Squalo gritted his teeth tightly and pushed the other's arm off, half-sitting up by propping his torso on his good elbow and looking down on Xanxus. "Just because you fucking can doesn't mean you had to- (almost, almost-) shoot him!" His voice rose slightly, his expression tight. "Why did you get so damn angry? What more do you fucking want?"
"Everything." Xanxus answered, and he rolled over to sit up as well, refusing to be towered over like that, even if Squalo was only half up. "You've known me how fucking long and you still have to ask me what I fucking want? I want fucking everything, Squalo. And don't try to give me any sort of bullshit of my already having you. Because it might be fucking true, but only to a god damn point." He snarled quietly and seemed to pick invisible lint off the blanket and flick it away. "Which is where he takes over. Him and all those other fucking people you've...bonded with."
"Well fucking excuse me, you were in that fucking- (the words choking in his throat, piled and packed too tight with too much memories, too many words ) -thing for the fucking majority of the time!" The swordsman snarled, almost completely sure that he'd get a blow to the head for that remark, this.. defiance, and internally braced himself for it, his good hand curling tightly into the sheets. He looked up to meet the other's gaze, the red tint of it almost glowing in the semi-darkness, and his hand tightened just a fraction more around the fabric. "What the fuck do you mean? Of fucking course it's everything you fucking need-"
"Need. Need? Just because it's what I fucking need doesn't mean it's what I fucking want. I don't need to spend fifteen hundred euro on a suit, but I do it anyway because I fucking want to. Che, what I need..." The last part was no more than muttered as Xanxus turned his gaze away from Squalo and stared across the room, the light that came in between the flaps of the curtain illuminating a line across the wall.
Squalo's chest felt too tight, as if the bandage wrapped around his torso was somehow pressing down on his ribcage, his lungs not expanding properly, and he took a shallow, barely-there breath. The slow clenching of sudden emptiness in his gut (feeling as if the metaphorical table sheet was wrenched out from underneath him). "Then what the fuck do you want from me?" The swordsman pushed himself up to sit up fully, turning to face the other. "Xanxus," he got out, his expression screwing up into a grimace of half-pain, half-confusion, "I just don't fucking understand-"
A short, bitter laugh left Xanxus and he lifted a hand in order to cover most of his face. "I don't fucking get it, either." Slowly the hand slid down until it dropped uselessly into his lap. "You know, I was doing just fucking fine all this time, being the way I was. I wasn't questioned. I didn't question. People either threw themselves at me to bestow my favor, or they fled in terror. I didn't fucking wonder what the hell else there was out there. I didn't fucking care. I had what I wanted. And then you..." Xanxus stopped and shook his head before he allowed his gaze to slide sideways toward Squalo. "What the fuck are you getting from them? What are you getting that you're not getting from me?"
The swordsman merely looked at the other man without speaking until he was done, and for a while afterwards, staring at the darkness on the other side of the room in a silence so uncharacteristic one might have thought he'd finally dropped off to sleep, if not for the fact his eyes were wide open, expression on his face slightly tense. "I," Squalo started, before falling silent, dropping his gaze to slowly run his hand over the sheets, smoothing out the creases on the cover laid across his lap. "They just are."
"Are what, Squalo?" Xanxus turned half toward him then, his eyes sparking with the moonlight. "They're. Just. What?" His jaw tensed and he made a low sound of annoyance as he looked away again, eyes focused back on the wall across from him. Frankly, he almost didn't want to know. And this anger and frustration that had been keeping him up every time Squalo disappeared for a few days was starting to wear on his last nerve. Maybe he really should have just killed Squalo earlier to end all of this headache.
Squalo glanced back at Xanxus then, eyes narrowed to slits and baring his teeth in a half-grimace, half-snarl with a noise much like an annoyed growl, something hot and tense and just (he was just so fucking-) scared coiling in his gut, but meeting the other's gaze unflinchingly. "Why the fuck do you care what I do?" His hand gripped the smoothed sheets tightly, the threads straining with the sheer force behind it--but it was the furthest thing from his mind now. "I do my job. I do everything you tell me to, and more. Don't fucking tell me what to fucking do in my fucking spare time."
Xanxus brought up a hand and fisted his fingers into Squalo's hair, though not in any sort of painful grip. He pulled Squalo closer and rested their foreheads together, much like he had when he was nearly comatose out in the hallway. "Because you're fucking you. Because you are the only god damn constant in my life that hasn't completely fucked me over. Because you don't annoy me like every other piece of trash on this worthless fucking planet. Because...you...just...fuck you frustrate me so fucking much."
The swordsman took a breath and held it in, closing his eyes for a brief moment. This was too much, too hard to think about and the right words weren't coming at all- "Xanxus," Squalo finally said with a sharp exhale of breath, bowing his head. "I've waited for you for all these fucking years. I- (eyes flickering down, the bandage scratchy and hot against his shoulder; the other's fingers a solid weight in his hair - the words were so hard to get out, almost as if he were trying to force himself through a thick hedge) -I gave up so fucking much."
His eyes flickered up, and he curled his fingers into the sheets, pulling back just a fraction so he could look at Xanxus properly, though the gaze dropped back after a moment, a tired grin wavering on his face. "But I'm not fucking giving this up." His voice was low, almost sounding as if he was half-asleep, but really, the real situation was the furthest thing from that. "I'm tired, Xanxus. I don't know what more you want from me, and-" His voice died, and Squalo took a shuddering breath, feeling it settling like lead in his lungs. "-and I'll give. But not this."
"If you still can't figure out what the fuck it is I want from you, then..." Xanxus paused for a second as he slid his hand from Squalo's hair and shifted away. Then...what? He wasn't one to give anything up, either. Especially not anything he really fucking wanted. "I'm not fucking asking you to give anyone up. That'd just be fucking idiotic of me, and I would be a god damn monster. But why the fuck am I not allowed to know what the hell is going on in that stupid fucking head of yours? What the fuck are you trying to hide from me? Because nobody fucking hides shit from me."
"I'm not hiding." Squalo snarled, his shoulders tensing as he looked hard at the other, ignoring the pain shooting up from the injured shoulder. "I would fucking tell you if I fucking could, but I can't. I can't fucking explain it." His shoulders sagged after that tense outburst, and Squalo brought his hand up to rub his face, finally unclenching his jaw as he exhaled. "I just don't know." His voice wavered, broke slightly in the end, and Squalo closed his eyes, dropping his hand back into his lap. "I don't fucking know if I can give what you want."
Xanxus remained silent for a few long moments, and his breathing evened out enough that it was entirely possible he had fallen asleep sitting up. Finally, he took a breath and laid back down on his side, his back to Squalo. "Fine. I'm too fucking tired right now, or I'd take my ass to a hotel. Tomorrow? I go back to being the fucking Boss. None of this bullshit anymore. If I can't have everything, I don't want a fucking percent of it. I don't fucking settle for what I can get."
"Xanxus-" Squalo started before falling silent again, merely staring down at the other without speaking. "...Boss." The word fell heavily from his lips, left to hang there in the air between them. "I'm not going anywhere." Squalo said, his voice quiet. "I'm not leaving. I'm still here."
"Right. Boss. That's fucking right. I'm the fucking Boss. Always fucking have been--" Xanxus's voice fell flat then, cut off, and his tone was lower like he wasn't even aware that Squalo was there anymore. "Always fucking will be." The silence that followed that was morose, at best, and downright uncomfortable at worst. Xanxus shifted just slightly as he tried to get more comfortable.
Squalo watched the other for a few more minutes, before shifting himself. The tense feeling in the air was obvious, and the swordsman hesitated slightly, moving his head to glance towards the door. "If you want me to go, then- I know."
"No. If anyone should fucking leave, it should be me." Xanxus stayed where he was for moments more, a side of him almost amused by the tense atmosphere. Eventually he snarled to himself and sat back up again, angry. "Fuck this." He turned toward Squalo and brought a hand up to cradle the back of his head again. "Let me...fucking...try this...fucking emotion...bullshit that you seem to like so damn much. I've never given up on a god damn thing I wanted in my life. I'm not gonna let you deciding you can't fucking give it all to me ruin my god damn reputation." Xanxus pulled Squalo to him again, their lips together, and it was a kiss reminiscent of the one he had given when in the hallway; that not-angry, not-forceful kiss that was something else entirely.
"Your reputation?" Squalo pushed at the other's shoulder with his good hand, turning his head away to break the kiss. "It's all your damn fucking reputation?" He swung his legs off the bed and struggled up, reaching out and grabbing the bedpost for support with a small hiss, lest he teetered back down again. "I'm not doing any damn thing to ruin it. I'll do whatever the fuck you want, I'll do anything you tell me to."
Squalo made his way across the room, only turning back to the bed with a slight hesitation as he closed his hand around the doorknob. "They don't ask for anything." He addressed the figure shrouded in half-darkness of the room. "They don't ask me for anything, or to be anything, and-" He took a shallow breath, turning the knob and pushing it open. "It's nice, to have that. Sometimes."
"Sorry." A slight twitch of lips, maybe a grimace, flickered across his face, and Squalo stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him.
"Squalo." Xanxus all but roared after the closed door and he cursed, loudly, as he threw the covers off and climbed out of the bed. Without time to dress, he merely threw on his jacket and buttoned a button or two before he was out in the hallway, after the (slowly) retreating figure of the swordsman. "I never asked you to follow me. I never asked you to fucking care this god damn much about me. But you do. And, here's a god damn surprise even to me, for some fucking reason, in some twisted god damn way, I care, too. I may not be able to ever fucking love you. Hell, I may not be able to ever fucking love period, but guess the fuck what, Superbi fucking Squalo? I...cannot exist as I am...without your ass there beside me. So of fucking course I'm going to ask things of you. Of course I'm going to fucking ask you to fucking be something. But that's because there is no one else in this god damn house," Xanxus paused and turned slowly, arms out wide, as if addressing everyone who wasn't present, "that's right, no one else in this god damn house," and he finished the rotation to glower at Squalo, "that I can rely this fucking much on."
Squalo turned around after a long silence, and leaned heavily on the banister leading downstairs. "I don't get you," he said, his voice decidedly strained. "I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm still your fucking-" Squalo glanced sideways, at his injured shoulder. "-Right hand, and that's not gonna fucking change."
"I can't give you what you want. You can..." Squalo bowed his head, gritting his teeth in suppressed pain as he slowly fell to his knees, gripping the banister tightly. "--kill me. I let you down, Boss."
"No. No, I can't kill you. I tried that earlier, remember? Didn't go so well." Xanxus pressed a hand to his forehead before he lowered it in order to undo the buttons on the jacket. With a huff he shrugged it off of his shoulders and tossed it aside and he didn't even bother watching as the coat fluttered to the ground. "I'm fucking baring it all, Squalo. Both literally and figuratively. As much as I need and want you to be my right hand, even more I need and want you to be fucking Superbi Squalo. The loudmouthed punk. The swordsman. The however you identify your own fucking self. If you can't give me that, then you can't give me you--at which point you're free to go and do whatever the fuck you want."
"I-" The swordsman sagged visibly out of sheer fatigue, letting out a short bark of noise that wasn't even a laughter either. "I can't. And- I don't want to either." His hand was shaking where it was wrapped around the curving leg of the banister and Squalo took a breath, tightening his grip. "I'm sorry."
Xanxus stared at Squalo in stunned silence, unable to even comprehend what was just said to him. "...Yeah. Yeah, you are, aren't you?" His voice was low, tight, absolutely strained as he tried not to break down again. Not again, not again, not twice in one fucking night. He turned and stomped back into the bedroom in order to grab his guns and went back into the hallway. "If that's the way you want it, fine. If for whatever fucking reason I'm completely incapable of making you happy outside of this life that we have then...fine. I'm going to go to my room, get dressed, and then go to a hotel for the night. After that...I don't fucking know. But don't expect me back for a while."
Xanxus gazed down at one of his guns, at the X emblazoned on it, and he shook his head. "I hope it's been fun for you, because this suddenly finding out I'm a fucking human and have more than a one track mind has been fucking hell for me." He fell into silence as he caressed the trigger of the gun with his forefinger. "I should've just fucking killed the both of you. Have fun having fun with him."
When: Right after log here.
Where: Varia Headquarters, Italy. Squalo's room + corridor.
What: Xanxus and Squalo talking.
Why: Because.
Note: Nobody saw this.
Xanxus was already in bed by the time Squalo came back into the room, his back to the door and the blanket up to his chin. He ignored Squalo's entering, choosing instead to try and be asleep, though the tense line across his shoulders more than likely gave away the fact that he was most certainly not asleep yet. There wasn't much of a chance a restful sleep would come that night, anyway; more of an unconscious period than actual sleep. He laid there like that for a few moments more before he finally spoke, voice half muffled by the blanket. "Been shown to his room, has he?"
His gaze first landing on the figure of Xanxus in his bed, whatever words he might have spoken to the other's back falling into silence at the hard, tense line of his shoulders, Squalo clenched his teeth slightly and walked over towards the bed, pausing only long enough to kick off his shoes and gingerly laying himself down beside Xanxus. He probably should have taken at least one more of the pills, but Squalo's eyes were wide open as they stared up at the dark ceiling, absently counting the other's breathing out of sheer habit (he used to count his own heartbeat in the dark, seeing how low he could get the count down in a minute).
He made no acknowledgement or a show of surprise to Xanxus being awake (he already knew) and only turned his head a fraction towards the other's direction, the quiet words carrying easily in the silence. "..Yeah."
"Mm. Good." Xanxus gazed at Squalo for a moment then, feeling like he was supposed to do something. Move closer. Reach out. Touch him. Something. But that something just wasn't in his nature, was it? It never had been. Never learning proper affection meant he would never know how to give proper affection. Thus? Glass throwing. "Good night, then," he finally settled on and he closed his eyes, actually looking to fall asleep now. Xanxus had stayed awake only to wait (to make sure) for Squalo to join him. He hadn't lied earlier when he said he was exhausted.
Squalo stopped counting when Xanxus started speaking, banishing the numbers to the back of his head and merely making an affirming noise in his throat. But... Squalo sighed, pushing himself up on his good elbow with a hidden wince. "--Xanxus?" he said, after a few minutes of silence, glancing down at the half-lit figure shadowed in the darkness of the room. If he was asleep, then it could wait until tomorrow. If he was still awake...then. (he'd never been good at planning things out through)
The shifting and the talking were not incredibly conducive toward getting any sort of sleep. Xanxus tried to ignore it for a few moments before he finally let out a faint sigh and opened his eyes. He glanced up toward Squalo, half-hovering over him as far as he could tell (the silhouette was all he had to go by, after all; it was later than he thought) and eventually Xanxus propped his head on a hand. "What?"
It was hard to make out anything in the half-darkness and Squalo blinked slowly, just making out the glint of the red eyes before he just exhaled sharply. "Why are you sleeping here?" It wasn't like his room was any more comfortable than any of the guest rooms, and from experience he knew that Xanxus would much rather move to a hotel than sleep in a less than perfect room. He could, perhaps, probably guess at the reasons why, but right now Squalo preferred to hear it from the other himself. Hell, he couldn't fucking sleep like this, anyway.
"Because," Xanxus muttered, his voice low mostly from the habit of conversing quietly when there was no light, "there's blood on my sheets. Your blood. So it would only make sense that I usurp your bed until that's taken care of." And it was an excuse, nothing but an excuse; a big part of the real reason was sleeping in a guest room in another part of the house, as far away from here as Xanxus could manage, but not so close to the damage he had caused to the mansion that in going in the room one would risk falling through the floor.
"Change your fucking sheets." Squalo replied, lowering his voice slightly to match the other's tone as he shifted again, moving to pull the sheets over to his side a little and settling down again onto his back with a muffled hiss. "It's not my fucking fault."
"No." When Squalo had settled back down again, Xanxus did as well, though he rolled until he was on his stomach. He draped an arm across Squalo, below the injured arm, and turned his head so it was facing away from the swordsman. "I wanted to fucking sleep here, so I'm going to fucking sleep here."
The swordsman was silent for a moment, shifting again with a grunt to get comfortable before falling silent again. Though... "--What the fuck happened," he breathed out into the air above them after a moment, eyes wide open; the pain in his shoulder distracted him from getting any sleep for the present moment, "before?"
Xanxus had to think about that, himself. Everything was lost in a sea of white-hot flame. He had to peer through the fire in order to see what happened. "He asked who shot you, I said I did. He got pissed, I got pissed. He said I was a fucking monster trying to take away your happiness, I almost shot him in the fucking head but instead took out half the mansion." Xanxus paused for a second and eventually grunted. "After that, I'm completely blank until I headed up the stairs back to here."
At that, Squalo glanced sharply beside him at the other, though he couldn't catch Xanxus' expression, merely seeing the dark head of hair turned away from him. Not that he'd have been able to see anything, in any case, but that wasn't the fucking point here, was it? The corners of his lips tightened for a brief moment, blinking a few times before opening his mouth. The words floated up into his head much slower than he would have liked. "...Why would he say that?"
"How the fuck should I know?" Xanxus grumbled, and eventually he turned his head so he could look at Squalo's outline again. "He doesn't get it," he finally said, and he moved the hand that was draped across Squalo up so he could run his fingers across the bandages around the swordsman's shoulder. "Doesn't understand why I did this. Thinks it's only 'cause of him. Fucking ego." Like he was one to talk, but that wasn't the point.
There was the barest hint of a flinch at the touch as Squalo breathed in sharply, almost regretting not taking another dose of the pills before settling down on the bed; it was too late to get back up and hobble across the room for them, now. "Why?" He glanced back at Xanxus again, his expression half-hidden in the darkness a mixture of annoyance and pain, and a hint of confusion as well. "You fucking know you don't need any more fucking proof, I-"
Xanxus heaved a sigh and shifted his arm again so it was once more just across Squalo's body. "Probably for the same fucking reason I almost shot him in the head tonight," he said, his eyes on Squalo's shoulder--it was about all he could see in the darkness. "Because I fucking can. Because that's how I fucking express myself. There's no better way to get the point across then a god damn bullet or ten."
Squalo gritted his teeth tightly and pushed the other's arm off, half-sitting up by propping his torso on his good elbow and looking down on Xanxus. "Just because you fucking can doesn't mean you had to- (almost, almost-) shoot him!" His voice rose slightly, his expression tight. "Why did you get so damn angry? What more do you fucking want?"
"Everything." Xanxus answered, and he rolled over to sit up as well, refusing to be towered over like that, even if Squalo was only half up. "You've known me how fucking long and you still have to ask me what I fucking want? I want fucking everything, Squalo. And don't try to give me any sort of bullshit of my already having you. Because it might be fucking true, but only to a god damn point." He snarled quietly and seemed to pick invisible lint off the blanket and flick it away. "Which is where he takes over. Him and all those other fucking people you've...bonded with."
"Well fucking excuse me, you were in that fucking- (the words choking in his throat, piled and packed too tight with too much memories, too many words ) -thing for the fucking majority of the time!" The swordsman snarled, almost completely sure that he'd get a blow to the head for that remark, this.. defiance, and internally braced himself for it, his good hand curling tightly into the sheets. He looked up to meet the other's gaze, the red tint of it almost glowing in the semi-darkness, and his hand tightened just a fraction more around the fabric. "What the fuck do you mean? Of fucking course it's everything you fucking need-"
"Need. Need? Just because it's what I fucking need doesn't mean it's what I fucking want. I don't need to spend fifteen hundred euro on a suit, but I do it anyway because I fucking want to. Che, what I need..." The last part was no more than muttered as Xanxus turned his gaze away from Squalo and stared across the room, the light that came in between the flaps of the curtain illuminating a line across the wall.
Squalo's chest felt too tight, as if the bandage wrapped around his torso was somehow pressing down on his ribcage, his lungs not expanding properly, and he took a shallow, barely-there breath. The slow clenching of sudden emptiness in his gut (feeling as if the metaphorical table sheet was wrenched out from underneath him). "Then what the fuck do you want from me?" The swordsman pushed himself up to sit up fully, turning to face the other. "Xanxus," he got out, his expression screwing up into a grimace of half-pain, half-confusion, "I just don't fucking understand-"
A short, bitter laugh left Xanxus and he lifted a hand in order to cover most of his face. "I don't fucking get it, either." Slowly the hand slid down until it dropped uselessly into his lap. "You know, I was doing just fucking fine all this time, being the way I was. I wasn't questioned. I didn't question. People either threw themselves at me to bestow my favor, or they fled in terror. I didn't fucking wonder what the hell else there was out there. I didn't fucking care. I had what I wanted. And then you..." Xanxus stopped and shook his head before he allowed his gaze to slide sideways toward Squalo. "What the fuck are you getting from them? What are you getting that you're not getting from me?"
The swordsman merely looked at the other man without speaking until he was done, and for a while afterwards, staring at the darkness on the other side of the room in a silence so uncharacteristic one might have thought he'd finally dropped off to sleep, if not for the fact his eyes were wide open, expression on his face slightly tense. "I," Squalo started, before falling silent, dropping his gaze to slowly run his hand over the sheets, smoothing out the creases on the cover laid across his lap. "They just are."
"Are what, Squalo?" Xanxus turned half toward him then, his eyes sparking with the moonlight. "They're. Just. What?" His jaw tensed and he made a low sound of annoyance as he looked away again, eyes focused back on the wall across from him. Frankly, he almost didn't want to know. And this anger and frustration that had been keeping him up every time Squalo disappeared for a few days was starting to wear on his last nerve. Maybe he really should have just killed Squalo earlier to end all of this headache.
Squalo glanced back at Xanxus then, eyes narrowed to slits and baring his teeth in a half-grimace, half-snarl with a noise much like an annoyed growl, something hot and tense and just (he was just so fucking-) scared coiling in his gut, but meeting the other's gaze unflinchingly. "Why the fuck do you care what I do?" His hand gripped the smoothed sheets tightly, the threads straining with the sheer force behind it--but it was the furthest thing from his mind now. "I do my job. I do everything you tell me to, and more. Don't fucking tell me what to fucking do in my fucking spare time."
Xanxus brought up a hand and fisted his fingers into Squalo's hair, though not in any sort of painful grip. He pulled Squalo closer and rested their foreheads together, much like he had when he was nearly comatose out in the hallway. "Because you're fucking you. Because you are the only god damn constant in my life that hasn't completely fucked me over. Because you don't annoy me like every other piece of trash on this worthless fucking planet. Because...you...just...fuck you frustrate me so fucking much."
The swordsman took a breath and held it in, closing his eyes for a brief moment. This was too much, too hard to think about and the right words weren't coming at all- "Xanxus," Squalo finally said with a sharp exhale of breath, bowing his head. "I've waited for you for all these fucking years. I- (eyes flickering down, the bandage scratchy and hot against his shoulder; the other's fingers a solid weight in his hair - the words were so hard to get out, almost as if he were trying to force himself through a thick hedge) -I gave up so fucking much."
His eyes flickered up, and he curled his fingers into the sheets, pulling back just a fraction so he could look at Xanxus properly, though the gaze dropped back after a moment, a tired grin wavering on his face. "But I'm not fucking giving this up." His voice was low, almost sounding as if he was half-asleep, but really, the real situation was the furthest thing from that. "I'm tired, Xanxus. I don't know what more you want from me, and-" His voice died, and Squalo took a shuddering breath, feeling it settling like lead in his lungs. "-and I'll give. But not this."
"If you still can't figure out what the fuck it is I want from you, then..." Xanxus paused for a second as he slid his hand from Squalo's hair and shifted away. Then...what? He wasn't one to give anything up, either. Especially not anything he really fucking wanted. "I'm not fucking asking you to give anyone up. That'd just be fucking idiotic of me, and I would be a god damn monster. But why the fuck am I not allowed to know what the hell is going on in that stupid fucking head of yours? What the fuck are you trying to hide from me? Because nobody fucking hides shit from me."
"I'm not hiding." Squalo snarled, his shoulders tensing as he looked hard at the other, ignoring the pain shooting up from the injured shoulder. "I would fucking tell you if I fucking could, but I can't. I can't fucking explain it." His shoulders sagged after that tense outburst, and Squalo brought his hand up to rub his face, finally unclenching his jaw as he exhaled. "I just don't know." His voice wavered, broke slightly in the end, and Squalo closed his eyes, dropping his hand back into his lap. "I don't fucking know if I can give what you want."
Xanxus remained silent for a few long moments, and his breathing evened out enough that it was entirely possible he had fallen asleep sitting up. Finally, he took a breath and laid back down on his side, his back to Squalo. "Fine. I'm too fucking tired right now, or I'd take my ass to a hotel. Tomorrow? I go back to being the fucking Boss. None of this bullshit anymore. If I can't have everything, I don't want a fucking percent of it. I don't fucking settle for what I can get."
"Xanxus-" Squalo started before falling silent again, merely staring down at the other without speaking. "...Boss." The word fell heavily from his lips, left to hang there in the air between them. "I'm not going anywhere." Squalo said, his voice quiet. "I'm not leaving. I'm still here."
"Right. Boss. That's fucking right. I'm the fucking Boss. Always fucking have been--" Xanxus's voice fell flat then, cut off, and his tone was lower like he wasn't even aware that Squalo was there anymore. "Always fucking will be." The silence that followed that was morose, at best, and downright uncomfortable at worst. Xanxus shifted just slightly as he tried to get more comfortable.
Squalo watched the other for a few more minutes, before shifting himself. The tense feeling in the air was obvious, and the swordsman hesitated slightly, moving his head to glance towards the door. "If you want me to go, then- I know."
"No. If anyone should fucking leave, it should be me." Xanxus stayed where he was for moments more, a side of him almost amused by the tense atmosphere. Eventually he snarled to himself and sat back up again, angry. "Fuck this." He turned toward Squalo and brought a hand up to cradle the back of his head again. "Let me...fucking...try this...fucking emotion...bullshit that you seem to like so damn much. I've never given up on a god damn thing I wanted in my life. I'm not gonna let you deciding you can't fucking give it all to me ruin my god damn reputation." Xanxus pulled Squalo to him again, their lips together, and it was a kiss reminiscent of the one he had given when in the hallway; that not-angry, not-forceful kiss that was something else entirely.
"Your reputation?" Squalo pushed at the other's shoulder with his good hand, turning his head away to break the kiss. "It's all your damn fucking reputation?" He swung his legs off the bed and struggled up, reaching out and grabbing the bedpost for support with a small hiss, lest he teetered back down again. "I'm not doing any damn thing to ruin it. I'll do whatever the fuck you want, I'll do anything you tell me to."
Squalo made his way across the room, only turning back to the bed with a slight hesitation as he closed his hand around the doorknob. "They don't ask for anything." He addressed the figure shrouded in half-darkness of the room. "They don't ask me for anything, or to be anything, and-" He took a shallow breath, turning the knob and pushing it open. "It's nice, to have that. Sometimes."
"Sorry." A slight twitch of lips, maybe a grimace, flickered across his face, and Squalo stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him.
"Squalo." Xanxus all but roared after the closed door and he cursed, loudly, as he threw the covers off and climbed out of the bed. Without time to dress, he merely threw on his jacket and buttoned a button or two before he was out in the hallway, after the (slowly) retreating figure of the swordsman. "I never asked you to follow me. I never asked you to fucking care this god damn much about me. But you do. And, here's a god damn surprise even to me, for some fucking reason, in some twisted god damn way, I care, too. I may not be able to ever fucking love you. Hell, I may not be able to ever fucking love period, but guess the fuck what, Superbi fucking Squalo? I...cannot exist as I am...without your ass there beside me. So of fucking course I'm going to ask things of you. Of course I'm going to fucking ask you to fucking be something. But that's because there is no one else in this god damn house," Xanxus paused and turned slowly, arms out wide, as if addressing everyone who wasn't present, "that's right, no one else in this god damn house," and he finished the rotation to glower at Squalo, "that I can rely this fucking much on."
Squalo turned around after a long silence, and leaned heavily on the banister leading downstairs. "I don't get you," he said, his voice decidedly strained. "I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm still your fucking-" Squalo glanced sideways, at his injured shoulder. "-Right hand, and that's not gonna fucking change."
"I can't give you what you want. You can..." Squalo bowed his head, gritting his teeth in suppressed pain as he slowly fell to his knees, gripping the banister tightly. "--kill me. I let you down, Boss."
"No. No, I can't kill you. I tried that earlier, remember? Didn't go so well." Xanxus pressed a hand to his forehead before he lowered it in order to undo the buttons on the jacket. With a huff he shrugged it off of his shoulders and tossed it aside and he didn't even bother watching as the coat fluttered to the ground. "I'm fucking baring it all, Squalo. Both literally and figuratively. As much as I need and want you to be my right hand, even more I need and want you to be fucking Superbi Squalo. The loudmouthed punk. The swordsman. The however you identify your own fucking self. If you can't give me that, then you can't give me you--at which point you're free to go and do whatever the fuck you want."
"I-" The swordsman sagged visibly out of sheer fatigue, letting out a short bark of noise that wasn't even a laughter either. "I can't. And- I don't want to either." His hand was shaking where it was wrapped around the curving leg of the banister and Squalo took a breath, tightening his grip. "I'm sorry."
Xanxus stared at Squalo in stunned silence, unable to even comprehend what was just said to him. "...Yeah. Yeah, you are, aren't you?" His voice was low, tight, absolutely strained as he tried not to break down again. Not again, not again, not twice in one fucking night. He turned and stomped back into the bedroom in order to grab his guns and went back into the hallway. "If that's the way you want it, fine. If for whatever fucking reason I'm completely incapable of making you happy outside of this life that we have then...fine. I'm going to go to my room, get dressed, and then go to a hotel for the night. After that...I don't fucking know. But don't expect me back for a while."
Xanxus gazed down at one of his guns, at the X emblazoned on it, and he shook his head. "I hope it's been fun for you, because this suddenly finding out I'm a fucking human and have more than a one track mind has been fucking hell for me." He fell into silence as he caressed the trigger of the gun with his forefinger. "I should've just fucking killed the both of you. Have fun having fun with him."