When Belphegor awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find a warm bundle pressed up against his chest. He glanced down through his thick bangs and frowned slightly as he noticed Fran in his arms. Anger surged through him at this and, without a second thought, he shoved the sleeping boy from his bed; how dare a peasant get so close to him? If he still had his knives, he would have been sure to jam at least one where it hurt most.

Fran, who had woken at the harsh push, whimpered as he fell from the bed. He glanced up at the lump beneath the blankets he knew was Bel; the boy had pulled them over him as if to hide from something – or someone – he didn't want to face.

"Bel-senpai..." Fran sighed before he stood up and left the room. It hurt that he had been rejected so cruelly but, at the same time, what else could he have expected? For Bel to be happy about waking up with Fran?

Fran shook his head and left the room so that he could go back to Mukuro; now that he had gotten to know the twins, he felt comfortable enough to spend his time with the older teenagers. When he stood at their bedroom door, he knocked softly against the hardwood before he pushed it open without waiting for an answer; he didn't yet completely understand politeness, but he had worked out that the adults here knocked on the bedroom doors before they went in. As he stepped into the room, he found that Mukuro was still fast asleep in his bed while Chrome was sitting up, yawning as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"What time is it, Fran?" Chrome had awoken to the knock on the door.

"I don't know." Fran's eyes were downcast as he walked closer to the girl's bed. "Bel-senpai kicked me out of the room..."

Chrome smiled sadly as she nodded, knowing she should have expected such a thing from the violent blond; Bel had never liked people in his room in the first place, so it wasn't surprising he had done that. She wrapped her arms around Fran's fragile figure after he pulled himself onto her lap. "How about we go get some breakfast?"

Fran glanced at Mukuro before looking back at Chrome. "But what about Mukuro?"

"He'll be fine. He'll eat when he's ready."

Fran nodded. He entwined his hand with Chrome's. "Okay."

Chrome offered a shy smile. She was glad Fran had agreed; he hated to think he could be left alone to overthink about what Bel had done.

~~XX~~

Back in Bel's bedroom, said boy was still tangled in his blankets as he laid on his side and stared at his wall, deep in thought. He felt frustrated, and perhaps a little scared – but why would he scared? He wasn't scared of some tiny little brat!

Stupid peasant thinking he can sleep in the same bed as the prince... Bel grit his teeth at these thoughts. If he comes close again, I'll make sure he knows the prince values his personal space. Who does he think he is? I should go after him and kill him right now.

Bel could feel himself hardening at the thought of spilling the teal-haired child's blood. He never had been able to work out just why the only things that seemed to arouse him was blood, but he didn't care enough to understand; as long as it wasn't his blood being spilt, he would jack off as much as he wanted to thoughts he knew were so very wrong. He remembered Squalo once telling him it was most likely his previous abuse as a child that had messed his mind up so badly, but he didn't care if the other was right or wrong all that mattered was that he was the dominant one for once, and he was in control – he wasn't going to be held down on his back and raped over and over and over again; not anymore.

The boy let out a small moan as he recalled his own abuse but fantasised about Fran in his position instead. He licked his lips as he imaged the younger male, beaten and cut up how he used to be, and conjuring up what he imagined the other's screams would sound like, he couldn't help but slip his hand into the hem of his pants so that he could take hold of himself. He moaned louder this time, but he didn't try and stifle his sounds; he didn't care who heard him. He pictured Fran crying as he pleaded for the twisted human who had called himself a father to stop. The blood he imagined leaking from Fran's backside was enough to draw droplets of pre-cum from Bel's tip, and when he listened to the gagging the child made as his mouth was stuffed full, he dragged his hand harder and faster along himself.

Sweat beaded against Bel's forehead as he felt his stomach twist and coil. His moans became almost deafening for himself, and he whimpered and arched his back against his own touch. One may have thought it strange he could touch himself in such a manner after his childhood, but Bel didn't think that way; he had been warped enough from the abuse to only be able to get off on violent thoughts, so it didn't make a difference to him whether or not he touched himself to know he was different from the other kids at the Varia.

Bel was smart – smart enough to know he wasn't normal.

It was when he fantasised about his father releasing all over Fran's tiny body did he let out a strangled cry and spurt all over his hand at his release. He laid there for a few moments so that he could catch his breath and then laugh softly to himself.; he knew he was sick for getting off to a little boy being raped, but he couldn't help it – he didn't know any other way to fantasise.

Bel pulled his sticky pyjamas from his body before he threw them carelessly to the ground, not caring who saw the evidence of his act; they could say what they wanted and he didn't care; he was used to the comments already. His mind became focused on Fran as he wondered what it would be like to abuse that boy the way he had been; he could be the one to dominate Fran the way his father had done to him, but it would be okay because Fran would be the one being raped and Bel would be in control. He smirked at the idea before he frowned, remembering the way Fran had looked so peaceful snuggled against him...

No. The blond shook his head. He couldn't let Fran get close to him; Fran would just hurt him like everyone else. There was no more room in his heart for pain.

Refusing to let his emotions get the better of him, Bel stood up and moved to his closet to find new clothes before making his way to the bathroom to shower. His mind was already made up; he wasn't going to let anyone into his heart ever again – especially not some stupid brat.