Xanxus thought it would be easy. Though, with a lot of things he thinks are easy, they turn out not to be.

One day, he realized he was too old. He was 35 when he found a premature gray hair. Believing it was a sign of impending doom, he sought for an heir to continue his legacy of power.

"Form a line," he muttered, cheek pressed against his fist as he propped up his feet on the table. He had ordered every beautiful woman in Southern Italy to be brought to the Varia castle to be interviewed by "his majesty".

Sure they were magnificent. Some were the most gorgeous women Xanxus had ever seen in his -short- life, with golden curls and fine cheekbones and crystal clear eyes.

But he hated them.

"Prostitutes," he said, turning to his right hand man standing beside his throne. Squalo finished writing something on his clipboard, looked down at him, and smiled a smile that was softer than the most expensive downy pillows money could buy. At that moment, something clicked in Xanxus's head.

"You're the one who wanted women," Squalo laughed under his breath, turning back to look at the girls. Xanxus stared.

"You know, trash..." Xanxus finally voiced, making Squalo return his attention, "...You look like a woman too."

"Voiiii," Squalo growled lowly, and the silky soft face Squalo sported unknowingly was replaced with anger. He jerked his eyes away from Xanxus and back to the room again. He was supposed to be supervising the affair anyway. "You sure do know your fucking way with words, bastard."

Xanxus was unwavering. He took a deep breath.

"Fuck!" He screamed, jumping out of his chair. All the ladies screeched in terror and fell to their knees in surrender. Xanxus pointed a determined finger at Squalo, his grin massive with insanity and greed.

"You're going to be my fucking bride!" he roared with a happiness he hadn't felt in a while. Squalo dropped his clipboard.

"Levi!" he boomed, swinging his imposing finger over to the man in question. Levi stood to attention, though just as dumbstruck as Squalo. "Throw these sluts the fuck out! I've got work to do!"

Levi nodded his head frantically and herded the scared women out of the foyer. As the giant doors closed behind them, Xanxus whipped back to Squalo, who was still unmoving and agape.

"Trash," he grinned. He took a step closer, but at the movement, Squalo himself took a step back, eyes wide in horror. "You're going to do what I fucking tell you to do. And I'm telling you, you're going to have my fucking kids."

At that moment, Squalo finally realized his boss was insane.

Squalo made a dash for the door that would have bordered on supersonic speeds. Had it not been the grip on his hair, he would have broken through the sound barrier. He was jerked back to Xanxus' strong chest as he laughed coarsely in his ear.

"Don't tell me you aren't interested, slut," Xanxus growled, squeezing the long silver strands in his fists. Squalo twitched in pain and panted. "You'd do anythi-"

"Boss," he barked loudly, holding onto his hair at the roots so they wouldn't be ripped out. He gasped through the ache, ignoring his leader's advances. "I won't, I c-can't."

Xanxus tugged again, earning a withdrawn cry. "What do you mean you can't, stupid?"

Squalo's legs shivered under the strain of the bent position, skin quivering. "I can't, I can't do it," he whispered.

Xanxus was growing impatient, but that was always expected. He shook him again and again, reveling in the pained whimpers.

"You can, and you will. If you're thinking it's because you're a man, I have my fucking ways, alright? But now, we're going to start."

Hearing those words, Squalo thrashed about violently, anything to escape. But nothing was to defeat Xanxus, and he dragged his swordsman kicking and screaming all the way to the bedroom, the tight grip on that silver hair unrelenting.


Again, it would have been easy for Squalo to have his heir. He was tolerable, he was purebred (as far as he knew), and he was attractive. What more could Xanxus ask for in a wife?

Maybe he would have liked it better without the mouth. Or the attitude.

"Shut up, for fuck's sake," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. Squalo refused the command.

"Voooiiii! Fuck you, douche bag!" he screamed, pacing in front of Xanxus' desk. The bulge got larger and larger every day, and Xanxus had to actually try and hide his excitement. "My clothes are getting too fucking small!"

"I'll buy you new ones, just shut your fucking flytrap already." Xanxus had almost regretted impregnating his right hand man, as his new moodiness and loudness was almost unbearable. But he reminded himself of the outcome and calmed down (with the help of a bottle of scotch just to make sure).

"Fuck! I hate this, I hate this!" he whined, grabbing at his extended stomach and dropping to his knees. "Always kicking and squirming all the fucking time! Can't you go to sleep or something, Jesus fucking Christ," he dimmed down to a pained whisper.

"It's definitely yours," he joked, looking up at Xanxus behind the table. His boss quirked his eyebrows, waving a pen in the air.

"I'd be proud of him if he ripped through your belly like a fucking bear," he answered, turning to look out the window as he sighed. "Or burnt you to a crisp from the inside. That'd be my boy."

"What about a girl?"

Squalo had planted his hands on his desk, leaning over expectedly. Xanxus would have shoved him off, had it been any other day. But his kid was in that man, and he wasn't going to jeopardize the mission.

"No," was his only answer. Squalo frowned.

"Voiii. You can't be certa-"

"No," he repeated, turning deadly red eyes to his partner. The mafia was no place for women.

Squalo let it go, looking down at his stomach and rubbing it slowly. Xanxus glanced down curiously at the bulge and back to Squalo's soft face. He hadn't seen that look in months.

"...Then let's hope you please your dad, you little bastard..."


At some point, Xanxus actually started thinking about Squalo. He guessed it began half way through the pregnancy, because up until then, he didn't give a flying fuck. As usual.

He came to him in a daze, clutching at his middle, bowing his head low to the ground.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," he muttered with the lack of a sound mind, Xanxus thought. This baby was driving him insane. Xanxus, without realizing it, actually stood from his desk: a sign of concern.

"You can't what?" he asked, taking a step or two toward his new wife. "Spit it out."

And there they were: The tears he thought he wouldn't have to see.

He shut his mouth, analyzing his pained and wet face. Squalo looked up at him for only a moment before hanging his head again and letting his shoulders heave in a desperate sob.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Xanxus cursed to himself, what the fuck do I do?

He didn't have any parents to tell him about pregnancy, and like hell he was going to waste his precious time reading about it. He knew not to mess with the bitch's stomach, and feed her well, but beyond that, he hadn't thought to care.

He regretted it now.

"It fucking hurts," the swordsman croaked, hiccupping out another loud sob.

Xanxus' wanted to be doubtful. For god's sake, he had his fucking hand chopped off. A kicking baby couldn't possibly be worse...Could it? And Squalo wasn't even half way through the second trimester!

He screamed. Squalo screamed as he dropped to his knees and slumped his head down onto the soft plush carpet. He grasped onto his stomach until his knuckles turned white and shook with tremors. Tears refused to hold.

"Come on, come on," Xanxus whispered the best he could, reaching down to touch Squalo's shivering shoulders, "Get up already."

"I can't, I can't," Squalo said again, tears staining little puddles under his face. "It fucking hurts, goddamn it, fuck."

Xanxus wasn't going to admit he was panicking. But he was.

"Lussuria!" he roared. It was only a second before his sun guardian had run through the door and was at Squalo's side, cooing and soothing in a way Xanxus never could. "Do something about him."

Lussuria chanced a glance up at his boss, back turned to him and unmoving. The trembling fists at his side did not go unnoticed. Lussuria sighed and took the poor wrecked man into his strong arms.

"...Yes sir..."


He thought pregnancy would be easy. For himself, at least. He had been wrong yet again.

I have to get something fucking right once in a while, he told himself.

Lussuria had told him of "baby showers". From what he could tell, they were hellish and way beyond the limit of his temper. But he was going to have one.

"Really?" Squalo eyed him suspiciously, like it was all a fucking joke. Xanxus gave a curt nod. "Voiii. You would never put up with shit like that on a normal day."

How could he possibly answer that truthfully? Well, he was pretty good at lying anyway.

"Well fuck, do you want it or not?" Squalo merely shifted in his windowsill seat and looked out, daydreaming.

In the final trimester, he had been overcome with guilt he could not comprehend. Squalo had been sick for weeks, cooped up in his room with only Lussuria to nurse him. He'd lost his normal loud and ignorant attitude and replaced it with a quiet melancholy presence. Xanxus was not used to that at all.

"Baby showers," Lussuria had said, "are events where expecting women can have one last bout of fun before they take on motherhood. They invite friends and family so they can fuss over her belly."

Xanxus sneered. It sounded idiotic and pointless and girly. But he'd seen the way Squalo had calmed down to the point of unease within himself. In truth, Xanxus was worried. And if Squalo wanted a baby shower, well fuck if Xanxus wasn't going to give him one.

Maybe this baby's driving ME insane, he thought. He was so unlike himself these days. And he blamed Squalo.

"I don't want one," Squalo said. He blinked up at his lover. Ha, he thought. Lover.

"Why?" he asked honestly, watching Squalo intently for signs of hesitation or modesty. Squalo grinned toothily, the way he used to.

"What's the point? I don't have family or friends or any need to have a party, I'm not a fucking girl. I'm okay," he said. "I just need to rest, that's all."

His shirt was slowly lifted up and burnt hands rested on his belly with tender care. Squalo looked up in astonishment. Xanxus didn't look him in the eye; he just bent down to place his chapped lips over the round crest. This was his show of affection.

Squalo watched, captivated. Xanxus brushed his rough thumbs in circles over the extended stomach, mumbling Italian under his breath. He refused to look at the man attached, but Squalo was okay with that.

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning forward to touch his forehead to Xanxus' and join him in stroking the stretched skin. He was grateful for the long awaited attention.

Xanxus moved his head away to press his ear against it. Squalo laughed quietly, ebony hair tickling his bare skin and warm dark skin contrasting his paleness. Xanxus continued to caress his front as he listened, like he was beckoning to the child within. And it kicked.

Xanxus didn't say anything. Squalo could feel it, but he wasn't going to disturb Xanxus any time soon. He knew he heard it too.

They sat there in the midday light catching through the stained glass of his office windows, silent as death yet happy as two lovers on a lazy Sunday.

They just wouldn't admit it.