A/N: Hey guys! Who wants to punch me in the face?

'Why do you want someone to punch you in the face, sushi?' You may be asking yourself. I'll tell you.

This is now a four-shit. That's why. UGGGHH HOW DO I KEEP DOING THIIIIIS *spirals into an abyss of negative emotions*

I'm certain many of you expected this anyway, so…

But whatever, a lot happens in this chapter, so naturally, it got pretty long. This chapter is more on Fran's side of things, and it's a bit more on the serious side, so hopefully you all enjoy it still. There's still humor, but yeah, gotta get this yaoi thing going so...yay serious times.

Oh, and in reference to last chapter: To the reviewer that asked what 'butter his muffin' means, buttering someone's muffin is a clever little euphemism for sex. Hope that helps. :D

So anyway, carry on.

Disclaimer: It's not mine. Lemme alone.

Coming to Epiphanies with Froggies

Fran could count on one hand the number of times in his twenty short years of existence that he had ever felt even remotely embarrassed or uncomfortable about something. It was just a feeling he never quite understood how to process internally, the feeling of shame or embarrassment.

He understood the psychological aspect of it; those types of emotions arose in a situation where someone's image, or the image they wanted to portray to the outside world, was drastically altered by an unexpected event or revealing of some unfortunate flaw in their character by another that could be perceived as socially awkward or unacceptable.

Like the time he had emptied an entire pyramid of pudding cups into his cart at the supermarket, right after three of the stock clerks had set it up.

Somewhere in his mind, Fran understood that he probably would've looked a little less like a douchebag if he had had the decency to look guilty as he casually knocked two and a half hours worth of work into his shopping cart, or at least acknowledged the three separate glares of disbelief pinned to the back of his head as he walked away. But then again, a look of guilt would've no doubt lead the three disgruntled employees to conclude that he gave a damn that they had wasted two and a half hours of their mundane lives building that glorious tower of pudding cups.

Which Fran didn't, obviously. Never had, never will.

Fran couldn't understand why they weren't used to it already, especially since he had been frequenting their store ever since his induction into the Varia. But the stock clerks and management of the store were united in their secret vendetta against the 'Green-haired Menace', who blew through the dairy section like a category five hurricane every Saturday morning, leaving nothing in his wake but overturned shopping carts, crying babies, and an empty pudding rack. Fran figured that since they loathed even the very sight of him, there was clearly no longer any need for apologies on his behalf.

Besides, he had grown rather fond of their endearing little nickname for him. It had a nice ring to it.

But in the grand scheme of things, feeling embarrassment implied that he valued how others perceived him; that he cared about someone else's feelings and thoughts towards him. And if there was one thing Fran was exceptional at, it was not caring about the feelings and thoughts of the other six billion people who cohabitated planet Earth with him.

In that respect, Fran took an almost sadistic pleasure in requesting the assistance of those same three disgruntled employees with his heavy load of groceries. He knew they would've loved nothing more than to 'assist' him right into the path of oncoming traffic. Their resigned scowls and glares could mean nothing else, after all.

But he also knew that murdering their customers was obviously against the supermarket's policies, and since he had just spent about four-hundred dollars in their store, thereby providing them with paychecks, they had to suck it up. Every week, Fran had to resist the urge to grin mockingly as he stood by and watched the trio load all of the pudding that they just never seemed to have enough of for some reason into the back of his car. He would look in his rear view mirror at them snarling curses and such at him before laughing quietly to himself in glorious triumph as he sped away, knowing that this same scenario would play out once again next week.

Oh well, he thought. It was their own faults for being so easily angered about something as trivial as him buying a shitload of pudding. It was quite an immature thing to hate someone about, to be perfectly honest.

Fran was simply incapable of being embarrassed or ashamed of anything he did. You can't make yourself care, and even if he were able to, he doubted he would even try.

That is, if it was a situation created by his own doing. That was one thing. Because then, he knew what to expect, and how to react accordingly. He was good at making other people feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, angry, etc. And Fran had had many years to perfect his techniques.

But if there was something he understood how to do even less, it was how to process his feelings towards the unfortunate mishaps of those around him. Fran didn't get how exactly he could feel awkward on someone else's behalf, but apparently, it was possible. Even for someone like him.

Though he never once found himself thinking, 'Wow, this is sort of creepy…' or something along those lines, he supposed that the involuntary reddening of his cheeks and the sudden lapse of all cognitive processes that one time he had gotten that…interesting (for lack of a better word), two a.m. phone call from an extremely drunk (and extremely horny) M.M. inherently meant that his body had registered the situation as an 'awkward moment'.

And it was certainly very awkward. For Fran, that is.

Especially when she started to tell him, in impressively graphic detail for one so intoxicated, about how she had just spent the past hour or so pleasuring herself, thinking of their beloved Mukuro-sama all the while. The call had lasted well into the four o'clock hour, until Fran finally -and thankfully- heard M.M.'s drunken snores on the other line, and hung up with a resigned, "Okay, it was nice talking to you too."

He remembered feeling remotely bothered as the pretty much one-sided conversation replayed over and over in his head, no matter how much he willed it to stop. He also found himself wishing for a mindswab, if only to convince himself that he wasn't the least bit turned on by her drunken confessions.

But mostly he just thought that since M.M. was clearly too drunk to be embarrassed for herself, he would simply have to be embarrassed by proxy in regards to this 'tender' little moment for pretty much the rest of his foreseeable existence.

…Or at least until the girl sobered up.

Sometimes he wondered if M.M. was aware that she had even made such a scandalous call; and to him, of all people, someone who would most certainly not hesitate to bring it up at the most inappropriate time.

Or at any time, for that matter. Fran supposed that there wasn't really an 'appropriate' time to bring something like that up.

Luckily for her, she had been fairly civil to him as of late; 'civil' being a relative term, of course, which lead Fran to believe that she did, in fact, remember that phone call. As well as the mortifying fact that Fran was indeed a skilled illusionist who had an excellent memory, no sense of shame or hesitation, and a vindictive side that only a select few were even aware of.

As such, she made sure to be nice to him. Nice for M.M., anyway. She had not pelted him with a shoe recently, nor had she called him anything rude, regardless of how many blatant insults Fran launched at her. It was quite pleasant to be around Mukuro's posse without the impending threat of a stiletto heel becoming part of his anatomy.

Not that her sudden 180 in attitude was actually enough to appease Fran.

It was just that in all honesty, he didn't want to be reminded of how, after he had hung up with her, he had run into the bathroom and promptly acquainted himself with a very realistic illusion of the red-head, in equally red lingerie, purring in his ear in their native French. She was a moody one, but that didn't change the fact that Fran rather liked how husky she sounded after…

Well…you know...

When he thought about it that way, he supposed that that would be the closest thing to him being embarrassed in anyway, because everytime the thought popped into his head, he found himself cursing his very existence and wanting to crawl into a hole and die more than he ever had before.

Which was never, up until then.

And so it was with a begrudgingly magnanimous sigh that Fran tucked that juicy bit of information away in his mental 'Blackmail against M.M.' folder. His karma was bad enough already. He didn't need a murderous glamazon out to get him, on top of everyone else who wanted his head on a platter. And he didn't like the feeling of wanting to die, either.

And yet now, in the present, amidst of all his inner-rationalizing, assessment of his semi-sociopathic personality and his associates' drunken habits and what not, Fran had to wonder if maybe he was just one of those people who the universe had it out for no matter what. The whole M.M. deal had been pretty high up there on his very short list of 'extremely uncomfortable situations Fran has been involved in where Fran has also felt uncomfortable', but his current situation was undoubtedly the new number one on that list.

And by the Gods was it painfully deserving of that spot.

And he wasn't even sure what part of it made the situation more awkward for him: The fact that it was Belphegor of all people who had knocked an unwitting M.M. down from her pedestal of shame, or that once the prince woke up, he may or may not remember whatever it was that he currently dreaming about.

"…Oooh…"

…Or maybe it was the fact that Belphegor was currently tongue-fucking the passenger door of his car while moaning.

"Aaaah…oh God…"

Loudly.

Fran's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

…Yeah…it was probably that.

The illusionist supposed it was a good thing for both of them that the windows of his car had limousine tints on them. How ironic that the very (illegal) tints that Belphegor himself had condescendingly chided him about not two hours ago were now the very thing that prevented the people in the car the next lane over from seeing the prince's rather undignified fall from grace. Especially the two children playing in the backseat.

Man, Fran thought, if only those kids knew how close they were to years of painful and upsetting therapy.

He was pretty close to calling a shrink himself. Seeing his 'comrade' having a wet dream (as he concluded it to be) was certainly something Fran was sure he could've gone his entire life without seeing, and he wasn't sure what exactly was going on in Belphegor's head at that moment, but it didn't look very sexy from where he was sitting. In fact, it looked downright disturbing. Especially the big glob of drool dribbling down Belphegor's chin and onto the front of his shirt.

"Good lord…" Fran muttered before turning away and continuing down the street, pointedly ignoring the prince's little mewls and moans.

Finally arriving at the Parliament Building, Fran casually made a left turn onto the one-way street, thanking their lucky stars when he noticed a large parking garage right across the street. He quickly pulled in and drove up to the fifth floor of the garage, which he guessed would be at about the same level as the meeting room.

After a few minutes, Fran finally found an open parking space, conveniently placed so that it was directly facing the parliament building across the street. From their vantage point, Fran not only had a clear view of everything and everyone in the meeting room, but he could also see a few limousines that were parked along the other side of the street down below, and Fran saw a couple of men in suits getting out of the back of one. He quickly pulled a picture of their surveillance target out of the manila folder he had brought along. Sure enough, he immediately recognized the shorter of the two as their target.

Welp, that's one part of the mission completed. He thought to himself in mild satisfaction, before looking over at his sleeping comrade…who was now sucking on the door like a nursing infant.

Fran scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Well isn't that attractive." He said gloomily, before promptly turning to look out his own window at a group of people walking to their own car on the other side of the floor. They still had some time before the meeting actually started, and for that Fran was rather displeased, because it meant he had more time to decide whether or not to wake his sleeping partner, who was in all probability getting ready to make love to his car at any second.

Belphegor rolled over suddenly, muttering something that put even M.M.'s drunken slurs to shame before sighing sleepily and nestled against the seat. As if listening to him talk dirty to whoever he was dreaming about wasn't bad enough, the prince was now facing him instead of the door. Which, Fran concluded quickly, was even more uncomfortable then Belphegor sucking face with his passenger door. Fran looked down at the prince's pants suspiciously, before sighing in relief.

In the very least, there was no tell-tale 'bulge' for Fran to stare down as he made his decision, and for that the illusionist was very grateful, for that probably would've been the one thing to make him abandon the mission and possibly the few gritty bits that remained of his sanity (not to mention his car and the sleeping prince inside of it), and run screaming down the street.

But as it was, it was nearing the seven o'clock hour, and Belphegor was getting a little loud again.

"Perhaps I should wake him up now." Fran said to himself in resignation. He turned to the prince.

"Hey, Bel-sempai, wake up now…" He cooed softly, poking the prince in the leg.

Naturally, Belphegor didn't wake up, instead batting the illusionist's hand away grumpily before settling back down with a sleepy smile. Fran pouted in mild irritation, before promptly jabbing his finger into the prince's exposed flank sharply.

"Fallen prince-sempaaaaaiiii… wake uuuuup… sempaaaaaiiii…" He droned as he poked the prince again and again, but goddamn was Belphegor the most stubborn person ever. The prince clenched his eyes shut tightly, refusing to wake up from his apparently very pleasant dream. He once again swatted Fran's hand away with a cranky groan.

The illusionist frowned. Well, if that was how Belphegor wanted to play it…

Fran fished around in the center console for a moment before pulling out a black sharpie, an evil glint in his otherwise deadpanned stare. He unhooked his seat-belt and leaned closer to the sleeping prince…

…and then promptly pulled back when he noticed Belphegor start to sit up.

"Fran…?" Belphegor said groggily, rubbing one of his eyes under his bangs. Fran waved casually, quickly recapping the sharpie.

"Rise'n'shine, sleeping beauty. We're here already."

"That was fast…" Belphegor murmured as he shifted to a seated position, now fully awake. The prince stretched with a loud yawn, nearly punching Fran in the face with a wayward fist. It would've collided too, if Fran hadn't had the sense to move beforehand.

"What time is it?" He asked sleepily. "My head hurts, and," Belphegor paused when he noticed the marker still clenched in Fran's hand, as well as the almost sheepish look on Fran's otherwise neutral face, "-Oi! What were you doing with that marker?" He snapped.

Fran leaned back in his seat nonchalantly. "Well, I wasn't going to draw a penis on your cheek, if that's what you were thinking."He said flatly. Needless to say, Belphegor looked unconvinced. His blank face said more than enough, in Fran's opinion.

"Well then, I'm glad I woke up." He said, still eyeing the younger man suspiciously. Fran tossed the marker back into the center console. "I think you mean to say it's a good thing I woke you up. Say, sempai?"

Belphegor made a noncommittal noise to show he was listening as he stretched again. On the prince's cue, Fran continued. "What the heck were you dreaming about anyway?"

Belphegor looked over at the illusionist. "Why?"

"Because you were moaning like a whore the whole time you were out. That's why." Fran said casually, his face deadpanned.

Belphegor, who had turned to look out his window in the time Fran was speaking, let out a strangled cough all of a sudden, his face going completely aflame. All of the…racy images from his admittedly wonderful dream suddenly flitted through his mind like his life flashing before his eyes, and with each second and scene he recalled, the prince was that much closer to throwing himself out of the car and over the metal railing of the garage and –hopefully- in front of a moving bus.

I did not just have a dream about Fran. In Fran's car. While Fran is sitting next to me! Belphegor screamed in his mind. I can't believe this! No, no, no!

Unaware of Belphegor's growing mortification, as he was also looking out his window and thus in the complete opposite direction of the now suicidal prince, Fran continued breezily, "Just when I thought you couldn't get any creepier, sempai, you manage to amaze me yet again. What were you doing, filming porn or something? Jeez."

"Was I that loud?" The prince nearly squeaked out. Fran, to his surprise, snorted into his open palm, which he had been resting his face on. "Oh yeah."

The already vibrant blush dusted across Belphegor's cheeks immediately spread up to his ears and down to his neck.

"Er…did I…say anything?" He asked bashfully. Fran fidgeted in his seat for a moment before settling back down. "You said some things…" He trailed off teasingly.

"Like?"

Fran shrugged, all nonchalance. "You know…things that you say when you're…doing it…"

"Like what!" Belphegor screeched. Fran turned back to him then, a ghost of a smile on his face. Almost as if he was enjoying this.

Which he was.

"Well, I'd rather not say, but boy, you sure were keen on them sticking their finger in your butt." Fran said puckishly as he adjusted his wayward bangs under the frog-hat.

Belphegor shoved his face into his hands. "Oh God…"

"Oh yeah! You said that a few times too. Give or take a couple of 'oohs' and 'aahs'."

Belphegor promptly slumped down in his seat, groaning in embarrassment. "Can we just not talk about this anymore?" He begged.

"But why? I'm pretty curious about this dream of yours. You were really into it. You were, like, making out with the door and everything…"

"FRAN!" Belphegor screamed,"Plea- wait the door?"

Fran pointed to the large wet spot next to the blonde. "Yes, the door. And just a head's up, if my car gets pregnant, you're paying for the baby."

Belphegor frowned, but it was more out of embarrassment than irritation. "Yeah whatever. Just drop it okay? Please."

After a second, Fran sighed. "Well, since you said please…" He said with a shrug. "But could you do me a favor?"

"What?"

Fran's lip twitched. "Would you mind wiping that fountain of drool off of my door please?"

Belphegor forced a smile. "You just couldn't resist, could you?"

If it wasn't for the fact that he was certain he was already in the deepest circles of Hell, cuffed to a cold stone wall with only his tears and the thought of Fran rubbing this very moment in his face for the rest of their lives (and especially as soon as they got home) for company, Belphegor would've expressed genuine gratitude to his deadpanned partner for giving in so easily. But as it was, he could only manage an uncharacteristically timid 'thanks anyway' before curling his legs up to his chest, as he often did when he was feeling uncomfortable. Nervous habit, he supposed.

Fran eyed him quietly for a moment before deciding that the current situation would no longer provide any sort of entertainment for him and followed the prince's lead, also sliding down in his seat and getting comfortable. They had more important things to do right now, anyway.

Besides, it would definitely make for an interesting conversation on the way back home.

"Hand me the file." Belphegor said quietly, his cheeks still burning, though not as noticeably as before. Fran slid the thin folder into the prince's waiting hand, and Belphegor began thumbing through it slowly, skimming over the details. After a moment, his hidden eyes fell on the photograph.

"Is that him?" He asked.

Fran nodded. "Yeah, I saw him go in with someone else a few minutes ago. They should be getting started right about now, don't you think?"

Belphegor murmured a quiet 'probably' before setting the file down on the backseat and grabbing a small device and a pair of headphones.

"Well, let's get started then, shall we?"

"Sempaaaaaiiii…"

"Whaaaaat…"

"This is so boring…"

"Yeah, I know."

"It's just a bunch of ugly old people, talking about boring old people things…"

Belphegor clenched his teeth in irritation. "Yes Fran, I'm aware. It's not like I've been listening to the fuckers talking for the past hour or anything…"

"How much longer are we supposed to wait here?" Fran whined, "I think I'm gonna kill myself… God, I hate old people."

Belphegor turned to younger man. "Christ on a fucking dumpster, Fran. You are such a whiner."

The illusionist shrugged. "I can't help it. I'm really bored. What are they talking about now? I just saw them pass a black folder to our guy."

Belphegor pressed one of the headphones closer to his ear. After a few moments, the prince began nodding slowly. "Hmm… yeah, yeah it sounds like they're talking about mafia-related stuff now. That's probably the bill."

"So we just have to see if he raises his hand for it, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Fran nodded to himself before undoing his seatbelt. Belphegor looked at him oddly.

"Where are you going?"

Fran shook his head as he -to Belphegor's utter horror- sat up and began crawling over to his side of the car.

"F-Fran! What the fuck are you doing!" Belphegor squeaked loudly, earning a strange look from the illusionist.

"Um…I'm just grabbing my binoculars out of the glove compartment…?" Fran said questioningly, looking at Belphegor as if it should've been obvious already.

The prince stuttered awkwardly. "Oh-oh, okay." He managed to choke out.

Dismissing his older partner's odd behavior, Fran shrugged before leaning a bit closer to reach for the glove compartment. Belphegor turned his head sharply to face out the window, trying to steady his racing heartbeat.

…His dream had started out just like this, afterall.

Please don't get a boner. Please don't get a boner. Please don't get a boner. Please don't get a boner. He prayed in his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The area of the seat between his slightly spread legs dipped all of a sudden.

OH GOD. Belphegor whimpered mentally, suddenly feeling very faint. His breathing picked up unconsciously as the seat dipped a bit more under the added weight of Fran's hand and arm.

Luckily for him, Fran was much too preoccupied with digging around in his glove compartment to notice Belphegor's very obvious discomfort. Or his near hyperventilating, surprisingly. With his hand firmly placed on the seat (the exact place not registering in Fran's mind) to balance himself, the illusionist fished around in the inconveniently spacious glove compartment for his binoculars.

"Man, where the hell are those things?" Fran mumbled to himself as he felt around blindly. After a few moments, the younger man gave a triumphant 'aha!' and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. As he shifted back to get into his seat, he lost his balance a little and fell against Belphegor slightly.

"Oh, sorry." He said nonchalantly. Belphegor growled in response.

"Just move." He snapped, although, if Fran had bothered to look, he would've immediately questioned the new, tomato-colored blush covering nearly all of Belphegor's face. It was growing more and more difficult to keep a hold of himself. Especially since it felt like Fran was purposely doddling around, though Belphegor knew that wasn't really the case. Regardless, the illusionist was nearly in his lap, and it was taking everything Belphegor had in him not to grab the younger man and pin him underneath him and ravage him.

So close… Belphegor thought anxiously. Fran shifted once more, trying to reposition one of his legs underneath the steering wheel in order to slide back into the driver's seat. This momentarily brought him even closer to the prince, who let out a strangled noise at the new proximity. Even more so when Fran's hair brushed against his cheek.

Man, he smells nice. Belphegor thought as he unconsciously leaned forward, his nose nearly in Fran's hair, and inhaled deeply. He couldn't quite pin the scent, but it was a familiar one, and now a pleasant one as well, because it smelled like Fran.

"Did you just sniff me?" The equally familiar drone rang out suddenly, cutting into the prince's blissful moment like Jack Nicholson broke through the door in that movie with the hotel when he was trying to kill his family. Belphegor wasn't sure why he thought of that specific movie at that moment, but he sure felt just like the woman with the large ears who was screaming in terror the whole time, deep down inside.

Having an erotic dream about someone while they're sitting next to you is one thing, but sniffing them and then getting caught by them was on a whole new tier of embarrassing. Fran was looking at him strangely, a hand reflexively shooting up to cover his hair, as if he were protecting it.

"What the hell are you talking about!" Belphegor managed to sputter out, half-heartedly shoving the younger man back into his seat. Fran was still regarding him curiously.

"You just sniffed my hair."

Belphegor started for a moment, floundering to form a coherent sentence to explain himself. It was proving to be a difficult task, since Fran's blanker than normal stare was making him nearly wet his pants, let alone completely ruining his ability to put thoughts together.

"I-I did not!" Was the brilliant result of an entire fifteen and a quarter seconds of brainpower.

Fran nodded slowly. "Yeah, you did. I saw you do it. You leaned in and smelled me…like some kind of serial killer. Man, fake prince-sempai, do you have some sort of 'creep' quota you need to meet today or something? Because you're just getting progressively weirder as the days pass."

Despite the ever-present blush on his face, Belphegor folded his arms defiantly. "I didn't mean anything by it! I was just trying to figure out what scent that was because it was familiar to me!"He yelled petulantly."And what the fuck do you mean, 'I'm getting weirder'? I oughta slit your throat for saying that to me, you little bitch!"

Fran gave him a breezy shrug. "Whatever you say, sempai. But we should really pay attention to what's going on across the street."

"I can hear them just fine, and they haven't started voting yet. I can do two things at once, you know." Belphegor snapped irately. "What did you mean by that?" He demanded again, even though he knew exactly what Fran meant.

As if to confirm his thoughts, Fran began listing all of the odd occurrences between him and the eccentric prince that had taken place so far. "Well let's see," He began coolly, "Let's start with yesterday, when you complimented me out of nowhere, and then today in the hallway, you didn't stab me, even though it was really obvious that you wanted to. And let's not forget this morning, when you ran out of the dining room like some kind of escaped mental patient. I don't know, you've just been acting really weird lately, sempai. Are you getting sick or something?"

"You think I've been acting weird?" Belphegor repeated, his face suddenly blanking comically.

Fran looked almost aggrieved. "What the heck have I been sa- Oh hey look," The illusionist said suddenly, pointing across the street, "Looks like Chef Boyardee voted for the bill."

"Chef Boyardee?" Belphegor asked with a snort. Fran nodded as he tossed his binoculars in the backseat. "Yeah. He kinda looks like the guy on the can, doesn't he? A little bit?"

Underneath his hair, Belphegor rolled his eyes. "I dunno, Frog-face. I don't eat that shit."

"Neither do I, but I always see the cans in the store. He looks just like Chef Boyardee." Fran insisted.

Belphegor ripped the headphones off of his head and tossed them in the backseat. "Whatever, who cares. We got what we came for, now let's go."

Fran simply nodded with a mild 'Yeah, yeah' and switched the lights on. Within a few minutes, the pair was out of the garage and back on the road home. The streets were significantly less crowded at that hour, making their trip out of town much faster. Twenty minutes into their drive, they were back on the highway, though to his surprise, Fran wasn't taking full advantage of the open road like Belphegor was expecting him to.

In fact, Fran, for once, seemed to be the one who was distracted as he stared straight ahead with both hands on the wheel. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly as if he were deep in thought about something, not to mention he was also doing that thing with his lip that Belphegor found annoying cute for some reason.

"You know what? I think I figured it out." The illusionist blurted out suddenly, startling the prince out of his own thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Why you're being so nice all of a sudden, I mean. I think I understand now." Fran said knowingly, casting a sly, sideways glance at the prince.

Belphegor's face flushed hotly. "How'd you figure it out?"

Fran scratched at his chin. "Well, it was kind of obvious, now that I think about it. I mean, I kept intruding on you two, and then out of nowhere you started being nice to me. And not to mention earlier-"

"Whoa, whoa," Belphegor interjected loudly, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You and Lussu-nee-san's secret affair." Fran said innocuously, lip twitching into a cute little grin as he continued, completely unaware of the shock on Belphegor's face.

"Every time I saw you guys, you were always together. I kept intruding on your private moments, and I didn't even realize it until just now. I guess Lussu-nee-san was probably uncomfortable with me knowing your secret, so he figured I would keep it to myself if you started being nice to me."

The prince continued to sputter like a dying goldfish as he listened to Fran prattle on about his and Lussuria's 'secret relationship' that was apparently so obvious. "Fran…"

"I'll admit, it is kinda weird though. I mean, you and Lussuria of all people. I knew you guys got along better than most but, wow. But then that leaves the question of why you were smelling me. I don't think Luss would be too cool with you just smelling other guys like that."

"Fran-"

"Hey, that was who you were dreaming about then, right?"

"Oi!-"

"Eh, that's kinda sweet. A little creepy, but sweet too, I guess. I bet he dreams about you too. Lussu-nee-san is kinda horny. You should have seen the way he was rubbing your butt earlier. It was like he was kneeding pizza dough or-"

"-Fran!" Belphegor snapped. "Stop. You've got it all wrong."

The illusionist turned to him with a frown. "What?"

"Listen. I am not in a relationship with Lussuria, okay? And I sure as hell wasn't dreaming about him either!"

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

Fran turned back to the road dejectedly. "Oh. So who was it then?"

Belphegor crossed his arms in annoyance. "I'm not telling you."

"Aww come on, sempai, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"No."

"Can I guess?"

"No!"

Fran made an irritated sound. "You should tell me, as payment for drooling on my car. I had to watch you, you know."

Belphegor growled. "Okay Mammon Jr., Calm down. I said I would clean it, didn't I? But that's still not a good reason."

"Why not? I think it is."

"Because it's private, you twat!"

"I need to know. It's going to bother me until I find out."

Belphegor groaned into the palm of his hand as he pointedly stared out the window. The dark cabin of the car became eerily silent as the two stewed over their private thoughts, although Belphegor inherently understood that at that moment, Fran was going down his mental list of everyone they knew and systematically crossing off names until he had a plausible list.

And sure enough, as they turned onto the lengthy driveway of the Varia mansion some forty-five minutes later, Fran broke his pensive silence.

"It was the boss, wasn't it." It was more of a statement than a question. Belphegor slumped back in his seat.

"No, it's not boss."

Fran let out a quiet 'nuts!' before thinking again. "Is it…someone I know too?" He asked hopefully.

Belphegor shrugged blithely. "Maybe."

"Aha. The long-haired commander."

"No!"

"…Eww it's not Levi, is it?"

Belphegor choked. "F-fuck no it wasn't Levi! Are you trying to make me sick or something?"

Fran tapped his lips with a finger. "One of the maids? That new girl has been eyeing you recently."

Despite himself, Belphegor smirked arrogantly. "I know. I screwed her a while ago. But no, it's not her, or any of the maids."

"What about-"

"-None of the butlers either!"

"Dammit." Fran cursed under his breath as he finally pulled up to the garage, still rattling off name after name. But that list quickly narrowed down to nil, and Fran found himself getting a wee bit frustrated.

"Sempai, I'm running out of names here…can you give me a hint or something?" Fran prodded. Belphegor gave him a dark look.

"No. Why the hell do you wanna know so badly anyway?" He barked crankily. Fran shrugged casually. "It's my inquisitive nature."

Belphegor sighed irritably. For some reason, Fran realized, the prince seemed to refuse to face him.

"Hmm…well, you said I might know them, but I've gone through everyone I know…and…I'm drawing a blank."

To his surprise, the prince smiled timidly to himself, staring down at his lap patiently as he waited for the garage door to lift in order for them to pull inside.

"You're lying, aren't you." Fran uttered suddenly, "It has to be someone in the group. Could it be Mammon? It's weird if Mammon was a baby, but I've seen him in his adult form too and well, I can't blame you for having kinky dreams about him like that."

Belphegor's face flushed. It seemed that this would become a common occurrence where Belphegor's apparently sensitive emotions were involved.

"It's not Mammon, you dumbass." Belphegor said, though it lacked a lot of the usual bite.

"Sempai… I can't think of anyone else…I mean, it's not like it's me or anything, right? That'd be all sorts of bizarre, wouldn't it?" Fran said, a joking edge in his flat tone.

Never before then and anytime since had Fran ever been one of the participating members of such a tense, awkward silence. The now silent engine of the car seemed to only amplify the silence in the cabin of the car. It was the kind of silence that drove people nuts with paranoia and after a minute in, Fran swore the loud buzzing in his ears was going to drive him up the wall.

He turned to look at the prince. To his surprise, he found Belphegor looking back at him, and it seemed he'd been looking for a while. His lips were drawn in a grim, tight line that clashed oddly with the heavy flush of his cheeks and neck.

"Um…" The illusionist said quietly, if only to break the unnerving tension in the car. Belphegor looked like he wanted to say something; the prince opened his mouth every once in a while, only to seemingly rethink his decision and close it again.

Just when Fran was about to open the car door and make up some excuse –any excuse- to abscond to his room, the prince's familiar voice cut through the silence, albeit much more reserved than usual. "Do you think it's weird, Fran?"

Fran, for the first time in his life, found himself completely speechless. Belphegor was looking at him so intently as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt…he looked almost like a little boy confessing his love to the prettiest girl in school at the playground during recess. Bashful, and completely unsure of himself.

So unlike the usual fallen prince that Fran was sure he knew.

"I…" Fran began, unsure of how to proceed. But before he had a chance to say anything else, a large, clearly forced smile broke out on Belphegor's face.

"Ushishi~! I'm just kidding, froggie! Why the hell would I like you?" The prince chided with a loud, anxious-sounding guffaw. "I got you good, didn't I?" He continued hurriedly as he popped his door open, sliding out awkwardly.

"Well, I'm kinda tired, so I'm just gonna go to bed now. Bye bye~!" And with that, Belphegor was out the door and in the house, leaving Fran alone in the garage with only his thoughts for company.

"Yeah, you sure fooled me, sempai." Fran said to himself quietly, before pulling back out of the garage and driving off. Suddenly, he didn't really feel like being home. It was a nice night out; perfect for clearing his now jumbled thoughts.

It was painful, he realized with a frown. And uncomfortable. Seeing the prince acting like that. And Fran didn't really understand why it bothered him to see his reluctant partner-in-crime so obviously upset. He usually went out of his way to irritate him, so why did it matter now?

Fran may have been socially stinted, but he was by no means stupid. He knew how to read people; part of an illusionist's power came from understanding the finer intricacies of human nature and turning them against them. Belphegor had always been a ball of raw emotion when it came right down to it; it was just a matter of who he was around and the circumstance. Fran supposed he should've been somewhat honored that the prince was much more open with him than the others, but that was only because Fran knew how to worm his way under people's skin and into their minds: He simply poked and prodded at the prince until he cracked.

But what just transpired…what Belphegor had implied…

This was different than any other situation he had ever been in. He found himself speeding down the road, trying to vent his growing frustration vicariously through a rush of adrenaline.

He wondered if perhaps, maybe, this was what it was like to actually feel bad about something.

To think, he had actually managed to hurt Belphegor's feelings... and the one time he hadn't even meant to, either.

The next chapter will be the last one. I can say that in confidence, because I already have it planned out. So expect it within the next week or so. Also, for those of you who are into Legend of Korra (and I know that's a good portion of you ;D), I plan on writing a couple of fics for this rapidly budding fandom (not to mention a rapidly growing obsession for me sobbu) in the near future, so be on the look out!

And with that, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. As always, leave me some kind words if you liked it. I'll take not so kind words too, but just know that I won't like you as much lol

See ya when I see ya

-S*B