Sorry it took me so long to update. I spent all day trying to come up with the ending to this, and I still don't think it turned out that well.
A few suggestions for what should happen in the next chapter would be more than welcome.
~ Illu.
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Fran sat quietly in the hall for a few more minutes, ignoring the stares of passing Varia members. His tongue darted out to lick the blood off of his lower lip. In his head, he replayed the kiss scene over and over again.
Belphegor's lips.. they had a certain taste to them, but he couldn't place it. It was on the tip of his tongue, bu-- Oh, tongues. The flush covered his cheeks as he thought of the way the prince had demanded entrance into his mouth. The way that velvety tongue had played with his own..
"Fran, get up! You're acting like a lazy ass, and in the Varia, we're not lazy!" A boot kicked roughly at his side, and Fran looked up to see Xanxus frowning down at him. The Varia leader didn't seemed pleased at all. Quickly climbing to his feet, Fran swayed slightly. He was off balance, falling all over the place.
"Yes, Xanxus-sama." Nodding his head, almost to himself, Fran placed a hand against one of the walls and walked unsteadily towards his room, stumbling every few seconds.
Finally making it to his door, Fran looked towards it, and the wall he was currently leaning against. The door was on the opposite side of the hallway. Groaning quietly, he shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, and then made a jump for it, hoping his knees wouldn't give out before he reached his destination.
A hand reached out and grabbed onto Fran's upper arm, dragging the illusionist toward his bedroom. The frog hat had gotten pulled down over his eyes, making it impossible to see who had grabbed him.
The hand dropped Fran next to his bed. The illusionist tilted his head back, just enough to make the hat fall away from his eyes, and glanced up toward Belphegor.
"Shishishi. Stupid froggy can't even keep his balance." Belphegor laughed, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked down toward Fran.
Fran stood, his knees still shaking, and sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing. His right arm reached up, knocking the frog hat down onto the ground.
Belphegor's eyes followed the hat and he frowned. "You're supposed to wear that every single day. Put it back on."
"No. I hate wearing that stupid thing." Fran looked up toward Belphegor, a small grin starting to form on his lips. He ignored the fact that his entire body was still trembling from the scene earlier, and looked down towards the frog hat.
"Put it back on." Bel repeated the words, and even though his eyes were covered, it was obvious he was glaring down towards the illusionist. His lips were parted slightly, almost as if in a silent laugh.
"Make me." Fran tilted his head slightly to the right, a grin on his lips. Oh, how he loved to get Belphegor pissed off, even if it did result in getting stabbed. The way the prince acted when mad was more amusing to him than most things.
The prince stared down at Fran for a moment before reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a knife. Fran's eyes widened slightly, getting ready for the pain of that knife going through his skin, but it never happened.
The knife lodged itself in Fran's hood and into the wooden frame of his bed, knocking the illusionist back onto the mattress. "What the hell was that for, you stupid fake prince?!" Fran reached back, intending to get the knife out of his hood, but only got another knife lodged into his sleeve.
"Leave out fake." Another knife flew, landing right beside Fran's right ear. Belphegor reached down and picked up the hat, dusting it off before dropping it right on Fran's head.
Fran sighed quietly. At least he hadn't gotten a knife lodged into himself. The jumper was already ruined, from the holes in the shoulders, so a few more holes wouldn't hurt.
Belphegor laughed when he saw the position he had put the young illusionist in and leaned forward until his lips almost touched the others, teasing him. "You're still a frog, y' know. I thought that if I kissed Froggy, he would turn into a prince, but I guess I was wrong. Perhaps I have to go to more desprate measures than that." Bel tapped his index finger against his chin, thinking.
Fran, on the other hand, was wide-eyed. His eyes glanced down to Belphegor's lips, almost pleading with the other to lean forward and press those soft, pink lips against his own. He had never wanted anything more in his entire life.
The look on the prince's face was what made him want it the most. He seemed to almost be enjoying Fran's agony.
"Bel-senpai.." Fran whispered quietly, his eyes gazing directly toward the place where he knew those blue eyes were. He just wished that all of that blond hair would move out of the way, so he could see the others expressive eyes.
"Froggy looks like he wants to play a game." The playful tone in his voice had returned, making Fran groan. Each time his voice sounded like that.. things that shouldn't happen happened.
"What kind of game?" The illusionist was hesitant with his words, trying not to get Bel mad by refusing. He really didn't want to play this "game" of Belphegor's.
"It's called.. "Let's see how many knives I can stick in Froggy's clothes and by his body parts before he starts to shriek. Shishishi." Laughing, Belphegor reached behind him, pulling three knives out of nowhere and holding them in his right hand.
Fran's eyes widened at the sight of the knives, but he didn't give the prince the pleasure of shrieking, as he had said.
The knives left Belphegor's hand and planted themselves in his left sleeve, holding his arm above his head. Fran had barely been able to contain the wince that had become an automatic response at the sight of those knives.
The prince laughed at the stunned expression on Fran's face and planted another knife in the collar of his jumper, just inches from his neck. "If you get above 10, then I'll give you a gift. You're already at six. "
Another knife lodged itself in Fran's hood, this time taking a few strands of hair with it. "Seven." The eight landed by his elbow, barely missing the skin there, and Fran did nothing but flinch. Another knife flew, landing in between the thumb and index finger of his right hand.
"This will be the tenth." Belphegor laughed, and posed the knife right between Fran's legs, making him squirm, but still no sound came out form his lips. A large grin spread across Belphegor's lips before he dropped the knife down, the sharp tip landing just millimeters away from Fran's "most precious place."
The illusionist let a shaky sigh past his lips, thankful that it hadn't hit him elsewhere. Belphegor just frowned, glancing down to the now pinned Fran.
Brushing his fingers through his hair tiredly, the prince shrugged his shoulders and leaned down, pressing his lips to Fran's before turning towards the door. "I want all those knives back in perfect condition."
The bedroom door slammed shut behind the now irritated Belphegor. Fran groaned quietly and wiggled, trying to get free from the knives without hurting himself. "Like hell I'm going to give these back to him." He mumbled quietly.