[Closed] I don't know what you do but you do it well
Characters: Squalo and Bel.
Location: Squalo's room.
Rating: R-ish, for Squalo's mouth and subject matter.
Time: August 28th in the wee hours of the morning.
Description: Apparently, it's time someone gives Bel The Talk, and who better that his cranky, surrogate mother?
Squalo was, surprisingly enough, pretty sober when he made his way home in the wee hours of the night. He was usually impulsive enough to go out and drink with perfect strangers, and it usually worked out fine. But Itachi had rubbed Squalo... not exactly wrong. Just differently than Faye or Zack did. Squalo trusted his gut, and his gut wasn't particularly willing to get smashed in Itachi's presence, so he hadn't. Once things calmed down, he needed to track down Fair and get utterly fucking wasted with the man, clearly. He replayed Bel's messages before going upstairs to his floor, frowning. There was something off with the kid, but Squalo couldn't exactly put his finger on it. It sort of reminded him of all those times Bel actually proved he was a goddamn genius and asked questions Squalo had to think long and hard to answer.
It seemed like it was going to be one of those nights, so he'd come prepared.
With beer.
Because he figured Bel was old enough and at least that'd get the brat to spit out whatever the hell was gnawing at him this time. He put the communicator back into the pockets of his jeans, pulled out his keys and juggled the sixpack of beer he brought along for the sake of dealing with Bel. With a sigh, Squalo entered the apartment and wondered what was waiting for him.
Location: Squalo's room.
Rating: R-ish, for Squalo's mouth and subject matter.
Time: August 28th in the wee hours of the morning.
Description: Apparently, it's time someone gives Bel The Talk, and who better that his cranky, surrogate mother?
Squalo was, surprisingly enough, pretty sober when he made his way home in the wee hours of the night. He was usually impulsive enough to go out and drink with perfect strangers, and it usually worked out fine. But Itachi had rubbed Squalo... not exactly wrong. Just differently than Faye or Zack did. Squalo trusted his gut, and his gut wasn't particularly willing to get smashed in Itachi's presence, so he hadn't. Once things calmed down, he needed to track down Fair and get utterly fucking wasted with the man, clearly. He replayed Bel's messages before going upstairs to his floor, frowning. There was something off with the kid, but Squalo couldn't exactly put his finger on it. It sort of reminded him of all those times Bel actually proved he was a goddamn genius and asked questions Squalo had to think long and hard to answer.
It seemed like it was going to be one of those nights, so he'd come prepared.
With beer.
Because he figured Bel was old enough and at least that'd get the brat to spit out whatever the hell was gnawing at him this time. He put the communicator back into the pockets of his jeans, pulled out his keys and juggled the sixpack of beer he brought along for the sake of dealing with Bel. With a sigh, Squalo entered the apartment and wondered what was waiting for him.