Some Squabble
Hello everyone! Whew, it's been awhile, hasn't it? In any case, I'm here with three shortshortshort SqualoXBelphegor fics, and a small proposal for some of you roleplayers out there. Anyway, bring on the ficcage!
Title: Lapse
Author: me~
Rating: PG
Pairing: vague Squabble
Warnings: partially nekked Belphegor, OOC Squalo
Summary: In which Squalo is curious and Belphegor is asleep.
It's not a daily thing, he tells himself. This isn't going to happen often. Only once, if he's smart.
Too bad Squalo isn't that smart.
The lock is easy enough to click open--and he has to wonder if maybe it was intentional. He wouldn't put it past Bel to manipulate him like the wire at his fingertips.
The four-post bed is enough of a dead giveaway, and the blood red silk drapes matching the sheets is almost as bad. The carpet is plush and soft against Squalo's bare feet, and the very air in the room is tenatively still. He didn't even know why he was here--he just was. Because he wanted to see. He wanted--
The tiara was on the headboard, gleaming quietly in the still night air. Below it, softly in the sheets, lay Prince the Ripper. Funny. For a moment, Squalo expected him to be awake. For a moment, Squalo rejected the fact that he could sleep.
He can see the razor wire, connected between the walls, and takes great care to step over, under, through, making sure that he's not even nicked by them, for surely the faintest scent of blood would awaken the blonde assassin. And he doesn't even stir when Squalo approaches, and he thinks too easy, and it is. Belphegor is still asleep, even when the swordsman stands a mere four feet away from his bed.
The sheets are spread haphazardly over him, covering one of his legs to his torso. His bare shoulderblades gleam in the shadows, as if they were knives themselves. His other leg is sticking out from under the rumpled sheet, curled beneath him.
His face is towards the lone window, as if he was staring out of it, just before falling asleep. And Squalo has to wonder--does he smile that demented grin when he's in here by himself? Does he laugh that bone-chilling 'ushishi' when he's all alone in his blood red room? Or does he revert to a more sane version of himself, the type of person that could look out windows and see things other than his own bloodstained reflection?
Perhaps this, Squalo thinks, is when Bel is at his most sane. Most peaceful.
Of course, he has to repress the laugh at that, because when had their little Ripping Prince ever been peaceful? Even in his sleep, he looked violent, and it wasn't the knives under his pillow or the razor wire he'd spread out around his bed--it was the cutting angles of his body, his protruding shoulderblades, jagged shoulders, indented spine, the sharp hipbone that Squalo wouldn't admit to noticing. Even his ankles were fierce-edged, the small bump of the joint looking as if it could cut skin more effectively than razor wire ever could.
His blonde hair is still splayed across his face, but Squalo can see a shadow of the mythical scar.
And he leaves immediately after that, because he's violated something.
Title: Blind
Author: Me again~
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Squabble
Warnings: Slash, probably OOC, spoilers for the Varia arc, and Blind!Belphegor.
Summary: Just because Belphegor was blind didn't mean he couldn't notice the tremors behind Squalo's yells.
Squalo walks up beside Belphegor and announces his presence with a sigh. He realizes that the prince is intuitive enough by now to know when he is not alone; the sigh is really more for Squalo's benefit than it is Bel's. He breathes in the fire and smoke and blood and screams that is the blonde assassin standing next to him, and fumbles for a sharp retort to the whispered 'I'll kill you'.
____
Belphegor is always irked at his own blindness. He wants to see faces, to observe the way they distorted in a beautiful pain when they were inches away from death, and he wants to watch the limbs as they severed and fell across the floor. He wants to see the luscious color of blood as it shone vivid against his pale skin, and he wants to see the look on Squalo's face when it's just the two of them, instead of just imagining based upon the wanderings of his curious fingertips across the angular nose and glittering hair.
____
Squalo is secretly glad that Belphegor does not rely on facial expressions or body language to discern the feelings of those in his presence. Squalo is good, but not so good as to be able to keep the odd way he's been acting in check. Which is okay, because everyone had been acting odd around one another since the Varia had been left boss-less. But Squalo's reasonings are of a different nature, and he's sure that if he can keep the tremor out of his voice, then Bel would never have to know.
____
Belphegor's grin makes up for his lack of vision when he reminds Squalo that just because he can't see it doesn't mean that it's not there. He's talking about the blade that the swordsman has tucked into the leather of his boot, but the shark's hitch of breath and loud yell afterwards is confusing at best. It doesn't take a genius to realize that the blade is a rather moot point, and there were larger forces at play.
____
Squalo only hates Belphegor's blindness because it leads to underestimation. Belphegor still knows where he is when they fight, he can still tell the difference between blood and wine, and his knives find targets as well as Squalo's own sword. And still, Squalo thinks he can sneak up on him, still Squalo thinks that his petty, offhand thoughts go unnoticed. But Belphegor proves him wrong with a sharp snap of his index finger and a biting kiss, and that is simply the end of that.
____
Belphegor breathes in, the scent of blade polish and apple shampoo and Squalo, the swordsman positioned over him, attacking his collarbone with the ferocity of his namesake. He can't see the silver in Squalo's hair, or the blood in his own, and so he can't remember if he's bleeding or not, but he can feel the beautiful pain as he's shoved deeper into the couch, pushed further by the cold steel hand. He can't see it, but that's okay--even if he can't see, then Squalo would still let him feel.
Title: What the boss doesn't know
Author: Me again.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Squabble
Warnings: OOC-ness again probably, spoilers for Varia arc, and another weird writing style.
Summary: There are some things the boss would never know. This was one of them.
The boss never cared enough to know many things.
Some liked to think that he simply feigned that air of nonchalance, that deep inside, the boss did care and did want them to succeed for their own benefit. Of course, none of them really believed that--another ticklish fantasy to give them a reason to follow.
The boss didn't know about the moments in the hallway, in which Belphegor would simply brush past Squalo with a quiet sneer and the princely air--and then there would be a barely concealed princely gasp and a thud as Belphegor's angular shoulderblades smack against the wall and suddenly Squalo would be kissing him forcefully, his lip crushing against his bottom teeth.
The boss didn't know about the striped shirt that had been thrown to the floor of Squalo's room, nor did he know about the demented little grin with the 'you've been given permission to touch the prince', which would piss Squalo off to no end, but then Belphegor's desire to be hurt, to feel that pain, that childish glee at the sight of the bruises on his hips always made him forget about the stupid bastard's egotism.
And the boss certainly didn't know about the nights when Bel would come home half dead again (and again and again and if he ever came home all the way dead it would be too soon), and Squalo would groan and bitch and drag Bel off to his room because the stupid prince could hardly be troubled with caring for himself.
What's more, the boss didn't know about the odd little pang that seized Squalo's chest when Belphegor lay in the middle of the Namimori library, weakly proclaiming his win as the dust and debris and fire and ash buried him and his demented little smile alive.
And when the boss is gone, he couldn't know about the way the whole squad fell apart, about how the idle 'I'd kill you if the boss wasn't here' threats turned into simple 'I'm going to kill you', and Squalo found himself fighting for much more than the upper hand in bed.
And when the boss is locked away, he's never going to know about the way the sword severs Belphegor's pinkie finger, nor the way the knife takes a decent chunk out of Squalo's ear as they crash together like opposing forces, because they were never going to be more than simple assassins.
((And as a final little note, disturbia_rp is open and looking for KHR characters! So far, there's only a Bel, but anyone and everyone would be loved dearly! My friend mods there, and I have her permission to post this--just message me for more info! <3))
Title: Lapse
Author: me~
Rating: PG
Pairing: vague Squabble
Warnings: partially nekked Belphegor, OOC Squalo
Summary: In which Squalo is curious and Belphegor is asleep.
It's not a daily thing, he tells himself. This isn't going to happen often. Only once, if he's smart.
Too bad Squalo isn't that smart.
The lock is easy enough to click open--and he has to wonder if maybe it was intentional. He wouldn't put it past Bel to manipulate him like the wire at his fingertips.
The four-post bed is enough of a dead giveaway, and the blood red silk drapes matching the sheets is almost as bad. The carpet is plush and soft against Squalo's bare feet, and the very air in the room is tenatively still. He didn't even know why he was here--he just was. Because he wanted to see. He wanted--
The tiara was on the headboard, gleaming quietly in the still night air. Below it, softly in the sheets, lay Prince the Ripper. Funny. For a moment, Squalo expected him to be awake. For a moment, Squalo rejected the fact that he could sleep.
He can see the razor wire, connected between the walls, and takes great care to step over, under, through, making sure that he's not even nicked by them, for surely the faintest scent of blood would awaken the blonde assassin. And he doesn't even stir when Squalo approaches, and he thinks too easy, and it is. Belphegor is still asleep, even when the swordsman stands a mere four feet away from his bed.
The sheets are spread haphazardly over him, covering one of his legs to his torso. His bare shoulderblades gleam in the shadows, as if they were knives themselves. His other leg is sticking out from under the rumpled sheet, curled beneath him.
His face is towards the lone window, as if he was staring out of it, just before falling asleep. And Squalo has to wonder--does he smile that demented grin when he's in here by himself? Does he laugh that bone-chilling 'ushishi' when he's all alone in his blood red room? Or does he revert to a more sane version of himself, the type of person that could look out windows and see things other than his own bloodstained reflection?
Perhaps this, Squalo thinks, is when Bel is at his most sane. Most peaceful.
Of course, he has to repress the laugh at that, because when had their little Ripping Prince ever been peaceful? Even in his sleep, he looked violent, and it wasn't the knives under his pillow or the razor wire he'd spread out around his bed--it was the cutting angles of his body, his protruding shoulderblades, jagged shoulders, indented spine, the sharp hipbone that Squalo wouldn't admit to noticing. Even his ankles were fierce-edged, the small bump of the joint looking as if it could cut skin more effectively than razor wire ever could.
His blonde hair is still splayed across his face, but Squalo can see a shadow of the mythical scar.
And he leaves immediately after that, because he's violated something.
Title: Blind
Author: Me again~
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Squabble
Warnings: Slash, probably OOC, spoilers for the Varia arc, and Blind!Belphegor.
Summary: Just because Belphegor was blind didn't mean he couldn't notice the tremors behind Squalo's yells.
Squalo walks up beside Belphegor and announces his presence with a sigh. He realizes that the prince is intuitive enough by now to know when he is not alone; the sigh is really more for Squalo's benefit than it is Bel's. He breathes in the fire and smoke and blood and screams that is the blonde assassin standing next to him, and fumbles for a sharp retort to the whispered 'I'll kill you'.
____
Belphegor is always irked at his own blindness. He wants to see faces, to observe the way they distorted in a beautiful pain when they were inches away from death, and he wants to watch the limbs as they severed and fell across the floor. He wants to see the luscious color of blood as it shone vivid against his pale skin, and he wants to see the look on Squalo's face when it's just the two of them, instead of just imagining based upon the wanderings of his curious fingertips across the angular nose and glittering hair.
____
Squalo is secretly glad that Belphegor does not rely on facial expressions or body language to discern the feelings of those in his presence. Squalo is good, but not so good as to be able to keep the odd way he's been acting in check. Which is okay, because everyone had been acting odd around one another since the Varia had been left boss-less. But Squalo's reasonings are of a different nature, and he's sure that if he can keep the tremor out of his voice, then Bel would never have to know.
____
Belphegor's grin makes up for his lack of vision when he reminds Squalo that just because he can't see it doesn't mean that it's not there. He's talking about the blade that the swordsman has tucked into the leather of his boot, but the shark's hitch of breath and loud yell afterwards is confusing at best. It doesn't take a genius to realize that the blade is a rather moot point, and there were larger forces at play.
____
Squalo only hates Belphegor's blindness because it leads to underestimation. Belphegor still knows where he is when they fight, he can still tell the difference between blood and wine, and his knives find targets as well as Squalo's own sword. And still, Squalo thinks he can sneak up on him, still Squalo thinks that his petty, offhand thoughts go unnoticed. But Belphegor proves him wrong with a sharp snap of his index finger and a biting kiss, and that is simply the end of that.
____
Belphegor breathes in, the scent of blade polish and apple shampoo and Squalo, the swordsman positioned over him, attacking his collarbone with the ferocity of his namesake. He can't see the silver in Squalo's hair, or the blood in his own, and so he can't remember if he's bleeding or not, but he can feel the beautiful pain as he's shoved deeper into the couch, pushed further by the cold steel hand. He can't see it, but that's okay--even if he can't see, then Squalo would still let him feel.
Title: What the boss doesn't know
Author: Me again.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Squabble
Warnings: OOC-ness again probably, spoilers for Varia arc, and another weird writing style.
Summary: There are some things the boss would never know. This was one of them.
The boss never cared enough to know many things.
Some liked to think that he simply feigned that air of nonchalance, that deep inside, the boss did care and did want them to succeed for their own benefit. Of course, none of them really believed that--another ticklish fantasy to give them a reason to follow.
The boss didn't know about the moments in the hallway, in which Belphegor would simply brush past Squalo with a quiet sneer and the princely air--and then there would be a barely concealed princely gasp and a thud as Belphegor's angular shoulderblades smack against the wall and suddenly Squalo would be kissing him forcefully, his lip crushing against his bottom teeth.
The boss didn't know about the striped shirt that had been thrown to the floor of Squalo's room, nor did he know about the demented little grin with the 'you've been given permission to touch the prince', which would piss Squalo off to no end, but then Belphegor's desire to be hurt, to feel that pain, that childish glee at the sight of the bruises on his hips always made him forget about the stupid bastard's egotism.
And the boss certainly didn't know about the nights when Bel would come home half dead again (and again and again and if he ever came home all the way dead it would be too soon), and Squalo would groan and bitch and drag Bel off to his room because the stupid prince could hardly be troubled with caring for himself.
What's more, the boss didn't know about the odd little pang that seized Squalo's chest when Belphegor lay in the middle of the Namimori library, weakly proclaiming his win as the dust and debris and fire and ash buried him and his demented little smile alive.
And when the boss is gone, he couldn't know about the way the whole squad fell apart, about how the idle 'I'd kill you if the boss wasn't here' threats turned into simple 'I'm going to kill you', and Squalo found himself fighting for much more than the upper hand in bed.
And when the boss is locked away, he's never going to know about the way the sword severs Belphegor's pinkie finger, nor the way the knife takes a decent chunk out of Squalo's ear as they crash together like opposing forces, because they were never going to be more than simple assassins.
((And as a final little note, disturbia_rp is open and looking for KHR characters! So far, there's only a Bel, but anyone and everyone would be loved dearly! My friend mods there, and I have her permission to post this--just message me for more info! <3))