A/N: Wow, I am a liar. I just shouldn't say anything. I was originally going to post this over this past weekend, but I ended up getting stuck for like two days. (I hate it when that happens D: ) But here I am, finally, with Chapter 5 of Dancing in the Dark! Yay!
First things first, I wanna thank everyone who has reviewed/faved/alerted this story so far. It's much appreciated. Oh BTW, to PistolTrapp, thanks a lot for pointing that out lol God how embarrassing! But I fixed it. In fact, a made a lot of edits to chapter 4, since there were some parts I was iffy about. I think it flows with the story a little better now.
Okay, now on to the chapter.
Seriously…I think this story is already bordering the NC-17 rating, and the funny thing is, there's not even a full-on lemon yet. I might be thinking too hard about it. *Shrug* I dunno, read it and tell me what you think.
Warnings: Yaoi, Lime/Lemon, subject matter and themes, Language
Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. I have to make friends with Akira Amano and get her drunk enough to sign over ownership to me first. *Victory Sign*
Four hundred and seventy-six. Four hundred and seventy-seven. Four hundred and seventy-eight. Four hundred and seventy-nine…
"Hey Squalo, we need to talk."
Damn it. Squalo thought to himself in annoyance as he rolled over from where he had been counting specks on the ceiling to glare at the half-grinning prince standing in the door way.
"About what?" He snapped, wishing desperately for Bel to get the hint and get lost. He was the last person on Earth Squalo wanted to see right now. Belphegor ignored the swordsman's obvious irritation at his presence, smiling his trademark smile as he sauntered casually into the room. Still pantless, much to Squalo's ill-disguised apprehension.
Belphegor noticed the pointed glare at his flagrant state of undress. The prince chuckled, half-heartedly shrugging as he strode further into the dark room.
"I didn't feel like bending over to pick them up, so I said fuck it and left them in the kitchen. Besides, I like the breeze. Ushishi~!"
Squalo rolled his eyes. Figures.
"What'd you want to talk about?" He asked, settling back against the stack of pillows strewn haphazardly against the ornate headboard of the large bed. Belphegor flashed him a relatively placid looking smile.
"Why, about the mission of course. It's almost eleven thirty, so we gotta start laying out our game plan. Not to mention establish our personas for the evening." He said, all business now as he sat up on the bed next to Squalo, sitting cross-legged. The swordsman was especially glad that Bel's black and red striped shirt was at least three sizes too big. His eyebrows furrowed.
"What the hell do you mean, personas?" Squalo asked lowly, openly frowning at the playful curling of the dark-haired prince's lips, which he had almost smacked himself for noticing were still a bit reddened and plumped from their heated encounter downstairs.
"One sec," Bel said as he hurriedly hopped off of the bed and ran out of the room.
The rain guardian sighed exasperatedly as soon as the prince was out of sight. He really wanted Belphegor to just stay in his own room and leave him the hell alone until they absolutely had to interact.
Squalo's mind was, if possible, in an even greater state of chaos than it had been earlier. And Belphegor's presence was doing nothing to help that. Even though the homicidal elite was correct in suggesting they formulate some sort of plan for this evening (which in itself was rather strange, as Bel never went out of his way to plan things out, hence why Squalo was there in the first place), Squalo would have been much more content to lie in bed and sulk all night.
Unlike Belphegor, who had evidently erased all of the questionable events that had taken place between the two of them from his memory and outwardly didn't seem to be any worse for wear, the swordsman was getting increasingly frustrated with this prepetual state of pandemonium he had been in since the beginning of this assignment they had embarked on together.
The last thing he needed right now was another confusing encounter with the younger man. He was still more than a bit disturbed about their little 'session' earlier, because it had raised a lot of questions about himself that Squalo wasn't sure he would have minded leaving unanswered, be it not for the fact that he was the type of person that needed to figure things out or he would drive himself insane.
Although Squalo wouldn't go so far as to say he had a crush on him or anything like that (he was still vehemently denying any sort of deviance in his mentality towards homosexuality and the like), he had mulled it over for the past several hours and had, with an utterly disbelieving grimace, come to the realization that he had, in the very least, undoubtedly developed a physical attraction to the slasher prince. And Bel, curse that supernaturally intuitive and analytical mind of his, was well aware of that attraction long before the thought had even occurred to Squalo.
What truly sickened the Varia commander was that the dark-haired aristocrat was using his unwitting attraction to him for his own personal amusement. Belphegor was an insufferable tease, and if there was one thing Squalo hated above all else about the younger hitman, it was that perverse enjoyment the prince seemed to get out of manipulating people.
Especially him.
He detested how easily the prince could get a rise out of him (literally and figuratively). All it took was a few choice words, a meaningful glance, and the barest glimpse of that creamy white skin, and judgement and values be damned, Squalo was at the prince's command.
Squalo wasn't even sure who he was angrier at. Belphegor for seducing him so shamelessly, or at himself for allowing himself to be enticed so easily by the tempestuous royal. He realized with a frown that he hadn't even put up much of a fight. His mind had been screaming bloody murder, but was all in all helpless to stop his body from reacting so viscerally to the prince's ministrations.
It angered him that he caved so easily. That he was so weak.
Belphegor had struck a nerve with his biting comments earlier, and they both knew it. Squalo realized there was no point in denying what had apparently been so obvious to the former blonde.
He was scared.
He was a hypocrite.
He didn't like not knowing.
And most of all, he didn't like change.
This was all happening too fast for him to keep up, and he hated to say, that brief but passionate tryst he had shared with the royal assassin had completely thrown him off-kilter. Because he had enjoyed it. A lot more than he felt comfortable admitting. Belphegor had thrown him into a complete state of delirium with his skillful ministrations, eliciting sounds and desires in him that Squalo hadn't ever experienced before.
And Bel knew that too. The bastard knew everything. He was a genius afterall.
But what irked Squalo the most was the flippant disregard the prince had for the whole ordeal. It bothered the rain guardian immensely that Bel was unfazed at the thought of parading around in such a whorish, wanton manner. And according to that chilling llittle speech he had given earlier, this is who he was, so what?
It was no big deal.
Not to someone as frivolous and untamed as Prince the Ripper. To him, this…affair, for lack of better word, of theirs was nothing but a fun little fling in a foreign country. Mixing business with pleasure. Squalo wasn't one to worry needlessly about things, but… he had an awful feeling about this. He found even less solice in the fact that this was only the tip of the iceberg.
There was an even darker side to the slasher prince that he, nor anyone in the Varia, save perhaps Lussuria, as the two were somewhat close, had ever been privy to.
Even though he tended to tease and harass him at any given opportunity, Squalo preferred the Bel he had been certain he had known back in Italy. The homicidal fallen prince with the shaggy veil of blonde hair, shit-eating grin and creepy, hissing laugh who always knew exactly what to say to throw him into a blind rage. Not this dark-haired, manipulating, self-indulgently eroticized incubus who got off on twisting his mind. And his body.
Squalo frowned sharply. Belphegor made him sick.
The Varia second in command heard the storm assassin rummage around in his own bedroom across the hall for a minute or two, before returning with his hands behind his back. His smile could not have been any wider if he tried. Squalo had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"What do you have hidden behind your back?" The prince's already impossibly large grin widened even further. He brought his hands out from behind him, dangling something in Squalo's face, which quickly withered upon figuring out what exactly the grinning hitman was holding.
"Ta-Da!" Belphegor shouted excitedly, much like a child who presents a horrible stick figure drawing to their grimacing parents to place on the fridge.
Squalo felt his eye twitching rapidly. There was no way in hell.
"Bel. I'm not wearing that." He grunted before rolling back over to resume his speck-counting. Belphegor pouted as he crawled back on the bed, getting just a bit too close for the swordsman's comfort.
"Ushishi~! Yes you are!" Squalo gave the smiling prince a scathing look.
"Superbia Squalo is NOT wearing a…collar."
"Yeah. Actually he is." Belphegor said, chuckling as he siddled even closer to the swordsman. Squalo did not like that gleam in the prince's eyes. He liked it even less when the younger hitman reached over and fastened the studded leather strap around his neck.
"And there's a fuckin' leash attached to it! I ain't a goddamn dog!"
"Come on Squ-Squ, it IS a fetish party, just go with it! You can look forward to calling me 'master' for the rest of the evening! Ushishi~!"
"VOOOIIIII! No fuckin' way!" Squalo immediately sat up, shouting his displeasure at the prince who just took it in stride, smiling that knowing smile of his.
"Aww Squ, you really need to calm down and hear me out."
Squalo glared hard, but relented after a minute or two. He nodded in a defeated sort of manner as he settled back against the headboard.
"Is this really necessary? Or are you just fucking around with me?" He asked, steely eyes narrowed. Bel's grin shrank marginally.
"Uhh…as much as I would love to tell you that I'm playing, I'm not. This is actually the most convincing disguise for the two of us."
"Why's that?"
Belphegor smirked arrogantly.
"Squalo, trust me. Guys as hot as you and me don't show up to parties like this as just friends. Ushishi~!"
The moody rain guardian twitched noticeably at being called 'hot' by his comrade, and openly soured at the implications behind the Bel's statement.
"But why do I have to wear it? Why can't you wear it? You'd obviously have less of an issue strutting around with a spiked collar around your neck." Squalo simpered, feeling his natural dominance come in to question at the thought of being yanked around on a leash by someone six years his junior.
"Because this way, you don't really have to say or do anything. You can just follow me around and look sexy all night."
Pointedly ignoring the 'sexy' part, Squalo thought it over for a few seconds before sighing in resignation. Bel was right. He had no clue how to act in this subculture he had been thrown so haphazardly into, so it was probably in everyone's best interest that he hang back and let Belphegor lead him around. This way, he could make sure the mission was carried out without really having to lift a finger. That was the reason he was here, after all.
Even if he didn't like it.
"Ushishi~! Besides, Cantatore is really into group things, if you get my drift."
Squalo's face puckered comically.
"VOOOOIIII! Hold on a goddamn motherfuckin' minute! I ain't screwin' nobody!" He barked, promptly ripping the studded collar from around his neck. The prince just laughed, completely unruffled by the swordsman's raging outburst.
"I never said you had to, stupid-ass. I just said that he's into that, so if you could stop flipping out over every single thing I say and let me finish, I'd really appreciate it."
Squalo snarled, crossing his arms petulantly. As long as he didn't have to fuck anyone, he supposed he could listen to what Belphegor had to say.
"Trust me, it'll make this mission go a bit easier for us." Squalo glared at him, lips pursing slightly.
"How come?"
"Well, because Cantatore happens to really enjoy group…'activities,' not to mention he already knows me, it'll be fairly simple for us to get close to him without his body guards watching."
Squalo nodded thoughtfully, taking in the information.
"But Squalo, you really have to let go. You can't go in there acting all macho because trust me, that'll give you away real quick."
Squalo lips took a sharp downturn, but Bel ignored it and continued talking.
"Out of everyone in the Varia, save me and Froggy, you can probably act the best. And you're definitely gonna have to do that tonight."
"I thought you said I didn't have to do anything?"
"Well you don't… for the most part. It's just that when we get to Cantatore, you'll have to be a bit more… convincing."
Squalo twitched irritably.
"Meaning?" He ground out. Belphegor smiled as he crawled over and swung his leg over Squalo's waist, straddling the swordsman's hips. His grin morphed into an alluring smirk when he felt the older man immediately tense at the proximity.
"Meaning, you have to act like this is natural for you. You can't seize up when I get close like this. In fact," the prince trailed off, placing his sinewy arms on either side of Squalo's head, resting them against the head board. Squalo felt his chest tighten when the prince lowered himself so that his bare pelvis region was resting on Squalo's equally bare stomach. Bel came closer and closer until their faces were just a few inches apart.
This was exactly what Squalo had been hoping wouldn't happen. He willed his rapidly beating heart to stop pounding against his ribcage. He'd be damned if he would give the manipulative bastard the satisfaction of knowing he was turning Squalo on just by being this close to him.
"Ushishi~! You kinda have to be all over me. Much like what I'm doing now." Bel said, leaning in to kiss the crook of Squalo's neck playfully. The swordsman growled low in his throat.
"Bel, get off me."
The dark-haired royal shook his head. If anything, he pressed himself harder against the older hitman, pointedly grinding his hips against Squalo's toned lower stomach.
"Nope. You'd better get used to being this close to me now, or things are gonna get really awkward later."
"I'll deal with it later, then. Get the fuck off me. Now."
Belphegor pulled away to glare at him sharply before the prince's eyes suddenly widened. He snickered, reaching up to stroke Squalo's hair in mock-affection.
"Awww, you're still mad at me for what happened earlier, aren't you?"
Squalo sneered up into Belphegor's smirking face as he smacked his teasing hand away.
"You're damn right I'm still mad! You had no right to do that to me." He snapped. Belphegor's cheshire grin widened to the point that Squalo was sure it would split his face.
"Do what, Squalo? Shishi~! It's not the prince's fault you can't control yourself."
"You piece of shit!" Squalo barked as he gripped the Belphegor's hips tightly, intent on forcefully shoving the grinning psychopath off of him.
"Well it's true, isn't it? I didn't force you into anything, Squ. You came to me all on your own. If anything, you were the one who forced me."
"I did no such thing."
The ripper prince snorted incredulously.
"Oh yes you did! You were the one who pinned against the wall in the fitting room and kissed me first. You were the one who flew off the handle and slammed me against the fridge. You were the one who threw me on the couch. I didn't do a thing, except respond. I suppose it's lucky for you that the prince enjoyed himself just as much as you did. Ushishi~!"
Squalo's eyes narrowed into slits. There it was. Bel was toying with him again. But he realized that the devious youth had a point. He hadn't physically done anything to him. The conniving aristocrat had simply strung him along, casually initiating the situation and then turning it around, fully submitting himself to Squalo's will.
The swordsman frowned heavily. He knew this, but it pissed him off even more to hear it from Belphegor's own mouth.
"Do you get some kind of sick enjoyment from fucking around with people?"
Belphegor's lips curled upward slyly, and Squalo immediately realized the glaringly obvious answer to that question.
Of course I do. I'm Prince the Ripper.
"Bel, is this why I'm really here? Is this why you made Xanxus force me to come with you?" The swordsman asked with a frown.
At that, Belphegor's face darkened, his teasing smile completely dissappearing.
"Why do you keep accusing the prince of all these things? First of all, I didn't make Xanxus-sama do anything. He was the one who picked you on his own. You were there, weren't you? I never explicitly said that it had to be 'Squalo' that should come with me." The royal snapped furiously. A minute or two passed with the two sitting in tense silence, glaring at each other viciously.
After an eternity, Belphegor finally relented, sighing and shaking his head.
"But I'm not gonna lie, I knew Xanxus-sama was going to pick you, and to be perfectly honest, it happens to benefit me greatly that you're here." The slasher said, absently combing his thin, wiry fingers through Squalo's bangs.
"How so?"
"Xanxus-sama was right about one thing, I do sort of listen to you. Nevermind that I suck at coming up with plans and stuff. Lucky for me, you're really good at that. And besides," The prince began as he crawled off of Squalo's lap and bent down to pick up the leather collar off of the floor. The swordsman looked away quickly when he noticed that the younger assassin's shirt had ridden up a little too high.
"You're pretty."
Squalo completely deflated. The swordsman blanched.
"…p-p-pretty?" He sputtered. Belphegor snickered mischievously.
"Yeah. You're hot shit! Believe me, this mission would be a whole lot tougher if it was, say, Levi, who came with me instead of you. Cantatore wouldn't come anywhere near us if he saw me draped over a fucking pincushion with an ugly mustache. Ushishi~!"
Despite himself, Squalo felt his face flush embarrassingly at the compliment. Belphegor leaned over him with the collar open in his hand, poised to replace it around his neck.
"And you know, you're much more fun to play with than the others too."
An irritated vein popped up on the swordman's temple.
"What was that? Voooiii, I'm not a toy you twisted little shit." He growled lowly.
"I know you aren't, but I can't really help it. I think people like you are so fun to mess with."
The rain guardian bristled, glaring heatedly at the younger man.
"What the fuck do you mean, 'people like me'?"
Belphegor shrugged, a lopsided smirk manifesting on his boyish face slowly.
"You know what I mean. Sheltered, ignorant, narrow-minded, and yet, have no fucking clue what they're so disgusted or offended about."
"Vooooiii…you better shut your fuckin' mouth-"
"Why should I? Ushishi~! Truth hurts, doesn't it? I love fucking around with people like you, Squalo. I like making you doubt yourself. And you make it so easy. You're not as unflappably confident as you make yourself out to be." Bel said quietly, gingerly refastening the collar around Squalo's neck.
Well that certainly reconfirmed what Squalo knew all along. The sadistic prince was thoroughly enjoying this little game of his. Belphegor laid down on his stomach next to Squalo, offhandedly readjusting his tiara so that it didn't slide off.
"Shishi~! Don't be mad at the prince, Squ-squ. I was just being honest earlier, and I'm being honest now."
Squalo honestly wasn't sure what possessed him to do what he did then. Perhaps it was a reaction to his dangerously high levels of anger and stress, or maybe the need to make sense of this turmoil he was feeling. Or perhaps it was the need to prove the arrogant knife-wielder wrong, to show him that he couldn't just pidgeonhole Squalo as bigoted son of a bitch who didn't practice what he preached.
Perhaps it was a combination of everything.
But all Squalo knew was that he was going to make Belphegor eat those words. Everything else could take a backseat for now.
And, Squalo thought with a light smirk as he glanced over at the prince, who was idly tracing patterns into the bedspread and humming to himself with a satisfied little grin, he really wanted to turn the tables on Belphegor. The swordsman was curious as to one thing. In all of their little trysts today, it had been Bel who had, both directly and indirectly, goaded him into initiating physical contact.
But what would the egotistical royal do if he came on to him completely out of no where? Because he wanted to. Not because Bel wanted him to.
Squalo sat up slightly from his reclined postion against the mess of pillows on the bed to rest on his elbows to stare at the younger hitman. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Belphegor's guard was completely down. Without warning, the swordsman grabbed the storm officer around the waist tightly and pulled the smaller man on top of him, so that Belphegor was laying with his back pressed against Squalo's chest.
Belphegor shrieked almost comically, struggling like a cat being put into a bath. The ripper prince tried desperately to free himself from Squalo's vice-like grip around his midsection, clawing madly at the rain guardian arms and kicking out his legs, which were resting in between Squalo's open ones, in a huff. Squalo stifled a curse when one of the prince's violent kicks caught him in the shin.
The former blonde thrashed violently against him, but it was all in vain. Belphegor may have been a genius, but physically, Squalo was far superior to him. After a few minutes, the prince had worn himself out.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The former blonde hissed at him. The swordsman held him closer, smirking into the crook of the prince's pale neck.
"Getting to know my 'master' better. Isn't this what you wanted?" He whispered in the younger man's ear, feeling strangely satisfied when he felt the prince shiver involuntarily.
Belphegor's eyes widened at the little declaration. He opened his mouth to retort, but promptly closed it, looking like he couldn't think of anything to say. Squalo had actually rendered him speechless. Squalo had to contain the irresistible urge to do a little victory jiggle. Getting Bel to shut up was like diving to the deepest depths of the ocean without the aid of a submarine or any sort of advanced technology.
Impossible.
The swordsman silently relished his victory over Belphegor as the dark-haired prince cast him a sub-zero glare but otherwise said nothing, instead settling against the older assassin with his back resting along Squalo's bare torso.
The two Varia commanders laid there in silence, the tension between the two of them uncomfortably palpable. Belphegor fidgeted periodically, trying to get comfortable in the slightly awkward position he was began held in.
Squalo bit the inside of his lip pensively. Now what? The swordsman rolled his eyes at his own impulsiveness. He really should have thought this through a bit more, but whatever.
I'll improvise. He thought to himself dismissively with a mental shrug.
When he was certain the slasher prince wasn't going to make a dash for the door, Squalo slowly released his hold on the smaller body, and began idly combing through the prince's midnight hair with his good hand. The dark tresses felt pleasantly soft to his ungloved, calloused touch as he fingered them thoughtfully. He felt his lip twitch upward when he heard the younger assassin sigh in what he assumed to be either resignation or contentment. Or both.
After a minute or two, Belphegor relaxed marginally, reclining his dark head of hair back onto the junction between Squalo's neck and shoulder, exposing the inviting flesh of his neck to the older man. The swordsman took full advantage of the prince's placated state.
Squalo leaned closer, still twirling a lock of jet black hair around his index finger as he placed a series of slow, deliberate kisses behind Bel's ear and down the taut column of his neck. He tugged the oversized striped shirt down a bit, exposing the pale shoulder underneath and continued his trail of kisses, occasionally nipping the sweet smelling skin. Belphegor's breathing hitched audibly. And, Squalo noticed proudly while mentally stroking his ego, the younger Varia officer completely melted, his eyes fluttering closed blissfully.
Squalo made a mental note that Bel had sensitive shoulders.
The rain guardian slid his hand down from the prince's hair to run a knuckle over one of the regal cheekbones of the dark-haired royal's ethereal face. Belphegor turned his head languidly and placed a light kiss on his finger before curling his skilled tongue around the digit, bringing it into his warm mouth and lightly sucking on it, watching him intently. Squalo felt his breathing go slightly ragged at the intensity of the prince's stare. Bel released his finger with a soft click of his lips and scooted up further on the swordsman's torso. He turned his own upper body toward the rain guardian, all the while sliding his own hand up Squalo's jawbone and into his silver locks.
There was a mischievous twinkle in those grey eyes that made Squalo suddenly lose what confidence he had that he was going to get a one up on the younger assassin. Belphegor was challenging him, he could see it. And for once, he knew what Bel was thinking.
What are you gonna do with me now?
He was going to take this challenge. Superbia Squalo never backed down.
He cautiously slid his hand up Belphegor's shirt, admiring the baby-smooth skin stretched taut over lightly defined abdominals. Squalo wondered absently how a body could be hard and soft at the same time. There was really no other way to describe it.
Belphegor's body was powerful, but in a different way. The ripper prince wasn't overtly muscular like Levi or Lussuria; nor like him and Xanxus, who were well-toned, but not overbearingly so. The dark-haired royal was lithe but delicate, much like a dancer in a ballet.
No. That was too benign to describe Prince the Ripper. Squalo instead likened him more to a cat. A ferocious, predatory cat. Maybe a tiger. That was more fitting.
Whether it be stalking his latest target, walking down the street, or simply laying here so intimately against him, Bel moved with the languid ease of a feline predator in a jungle. And like a tiger or a jaguar, Prince the Ripper was beautiful, alluring in his lethality, cunning, and could easily tear you to shreds if he so fancied.
The swordsman's eyes widened slightly as he came to an epiphany. Perhaps that had been what attracted Squalo in the first place. That air of danger and instability that constantly hung around the prince like bees to a flower. Or better yet, like vultures to a carcass.
Squalo felt Belphegor shiver slightly as he raised the younger assassin's striped shirt higher, exposing more of his milky white skin to the swordsman's lustful eyes. His stormy grey eyes were half-lidded, heavy with the desire that Squalo was inducing in him with his curious, feather-light caresses.
Belphegor sat up suddenly. The prince clutched at the hem of his shirt, lazily pulling it up over his head and casually tossed it to the floor before reclining back against his superior officer, whose face had gone aflame at the prince's unashamed nudity.
Squalo had completely forgotten what he was trying to accomplish by doing this. At this point, he wasn't even sure he had had a real idea to begin with. Nor did he really care. He was entranced by the pale, nude body strewn so wantonly atop his own.
Despite his residual irritation at the younger man, a part of him felt strangely privileged to see the psychopathic aristocrat with his guard completely shattered, giving in so easily to his touches. The silver-haired man traced his fingers deftly along the creases of Belphegor's toned stomach and chest, smirking lightly as tweaked one of the hardened nubs.
"Ahhhh…" Belphegor moaned softly, his head falling back against Squalo's shoulder. His mouth hung open slightly, his breath coming in shallow pants. The sword emperor chuckled quietly, pleased with himself that he had elicited such a surprisingly delightful sound from the prince without much effort.
Feeling a bit more brazen, Squalo ran the tip of his tongue over the prince's neck, blowing on the wet trail flirtatiously. Belphegor turned his head to face the older man, lips curled imperceptibly at one corner. The young aristocrat leaned over and ran his own tongue over Squalo's lips teasingly, gasping almost inaudibly when the older Varia officer's mouth opened slightly and the skilled muscle inside poked out to brush over his midway.
Belphegor giggled enticingly, flicking his tongue against Squalo's repeatedly before pushing it back into his mouth as he closed his lips over the rain guardian's. He grabbed a fistful of the silver hair as he brought the swordsman closer, manually angling his head to deepen the heated kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance, frantically tasting and exploring each others mouths thoroughly. It was a battle Belphegor lost however when Squalo roughly raked his nails up the inside of the prince's pale, sinewy thigh, unintentionally brushing against the painfully erect member laying nearly flat against Bel's stomach.
Belphegor broke the kiss to cry out Squalo's name sensually, clutching his long silver hair tighter as his slim hips rocked involuntarily at the intimate contact.
Squalo glanced down.
His cobalt eyes trailed down the prince's flat stomach, which was rapidly rising and falling with Belphegor's shallow pants, and then up the toned, bare legs, which were parted lightly, before finally resting on the thick phallus jutting up from between the prince's legs. He smiled toothily upon belatedly noticing the small curved bar adorning the head of Belphegor's penis, not to mention the intricate skull tattoo on the inside of the dark-haired assassin's left thigh.
He gave Bel a curious look. The prince had apparently been staring at him for a while, as if waiting for Squalo's reaction.
Squalo raised a thin silver eyebrow at the younger man, an amused smirk snaking it's way onto his face. Really?
The slasher prince's lips curled impishly.
"It was interesting. Shishi~!" He said quietly, voice noticeably husky.
"Right…" Squalo whispered back, chuckling to himself. The swordsman ran his hand teasingly down the prince's stomach, towards the straining erection. Belphegor clutched at his hair painfully, groaning lowly with anticipation. Squalo's lips suddenly curled upward. The treading hand made a detour at the last second, much to the younger man's disdain, and instead found it's way to the junction where the prince's hip met his thigh, rubbing and kneading the sensitive area slowly.
Despite himself, Belphegor was unable to stifle the little mewls and gasps that were so intent on escaping him. Squalo made another mental note. Belphegor had very sensitive hips.
The prince bucked his hips forcefully against the teasing hand, demanding release. Squalo decided to oblige him. The rain guardian hesitantly traced a finger over the length of the hardened member, earning a quiet moan from the younger assassin perched on top of him. Feeling a bit more confident, he grasped the base, and began pumping the organ slowly.
"Mmm Squalo…" The ripper prince groaned, burying his face into the crook of Squalo's neck as he rolled his hips against the older hitman's, thoroughly enjoying the swordsman's ministrations. Squalo felt his own erection pulse achingly from within the confines of his jeans. He had admit, the prince's sensual grinding was making him very dizzy.
The Varia rain commander picked up the pace. He pumped the rigid member a bit faster, occasionally brushing his thumb over the pierced head. Right now, he couldn't think of anything more erotic than the way Belphegor's back was arching off of his body,with his lips latched on tightly to his neck, warming the strong flesh underneath with his delirious pants and moans.
He realized that he was panting just as hard as Belphegor was, gasping painfully every once in a while when the prince would bite his neck, intent on giving him another hickey. He released Belphegor's arousal suddenly.
He heard an irritated groan from the prince and not a second later, Belphegor was glaring at him, asking silently why the fuck he stopped when he was so close to his climax. Squalo smirked as he brought his hand to the prince's reddened lips.
"I think you'd enjoy it a little more." Was all he needed to say for Belphegor to understand his intentions. The prince's annoyed pout morphed into a coy smile as he took each digit into his mouth and sucked on them until they were sufficiently moist. He released the swordsman's hand, pushing it back down to his aching member in a silent demand.
Once again, the Varia second in command obliged him.
Belphegor moaned loudly into Squalo's neck as the now slick hand wrapped itself around his arousal and pumped him with renewed vigor. He was already teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm, all he needed was a few good thrusts.
Squalo tried in vain to stifle his own guttural moans and gasps, grasping the prince's wildly bucking hips with his other arm in an attempt to maintain some sort of control over himself, lest he lose it too and climax right along with the younger assassin. He felt a soft hand cradle his face, and his head was turned to face the prince. Belphegor's face was flushed rather cutely, if Squalo did say so himself, and he was talking gibberish in his hazy, delirious mind state.
The dark-haired elite slammed his lips against the swordsman's roughly, his hot tongue probing the hot cavern greedily. Squalo kissed him back fervently as he pumped harder, sensing that Belphegor was close.
Belphegor broke the kiss as quickly as he initiated it, dark head reclining back against Squalo's shoulder, his breathy moans coming out husky and languorous. He had long released the rain guardian's hair and was now clawing blindly at the bedspread, hand fisted so tightly Squalo thought the comforter would tear under the strain.
And after four and a half more pumps of the hardened phallus, it did tear.
With a surprisingly soft moan and a sensuously slow undulation of his slim hips, the ripper prince came heavily into Squalo's hand, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he groaned Squalo's name.
Squalo had never heard his name sound hotter than it did right then. He realized with a half-smile that he really liked the way Bel sounded when he climaxed. He wasn't obnoxiously loud like women he had been with in the past, nor did he shout out praises to deities he didn't believe in. Which was pleasantly shocking, since that was exactly what the sword emperor had been expecting. He certainly wouldn't have minded an instant replay.
Belphegor collapsed tiredly against the older hitman, still panting heavily and absently combing a hand through his hair, a lazy, sated smile snaking it's way onto his face.
"Holy shit…" Squalo heard him whisper hoarsely.
At that moment, Squalo decided it was safe to assume he had won this round.
Bel: 3 Squalo: 1
It wasn't much, but a victory was a victory.
… Writing smut is fun. That's all I have to say. And don't worry, this story does have a plot. It will begin to advance in the next chapter, I swear.
Until then, Read n Review please!
Sushi*Bomb =3