This is disgustingly fluffy what am I even doing.

BUT LOOK. I FINALLY WROTE MORE SQUABEL. I missed you, SB~ D18 may get more love from me, but SB is, is . . . FFFF don't question it, I just love it. Even though this is way too . . . sweet or something. It's not really SB technically because they're not screwing each other, but Bel's got his ways of forcing Squalo to acclimate to him. Acclimation first, then the sex. That's how a genius rolls. Though I didn't get the fun part of SB in here :c You know, the part that makes me love it. The aggressive part.

It was difficult to avoid anyone in the Varia. And of course, the more annoying the person, the harder they were to avoid. It wasn't that Squalo really expected to be able to avoid the little bastard for very long, but it seemed lately Belphegor was everywhere.

Squalo would flop down on the couch to pass his idle time with some mind-numbing boredom from the television, and suddenly a pair of tall white boots would be across his lap, the owner stretched across the couch comfortably with his usual grin firmly in place, for all the world as if using someone as a footrest was an entirely normal and perfectly courteous thing to do. Any vocal protest would be met with the self-proclaimed prince leaning his head against the couch's arm and saying offhand, "Quiet, the prince is sleeping." Physical protest was clearly what he was aiming for, if the laughter it elicited was any indication. And so, Squalo would be stuck in a one-way stalemate, unable to do anything without giving Bel exactly what he wanted. The solution? Do nothing, and pretend Bel wasn't even there. By Squalo's logic, which usually made a lot more sense than he was given credit for, being ignored wasn't the brat's intention, and he would eventually be driven off.

Oh, but if only it were that easy.

After a few days of Belphegor napping comfortably stretched across Squalo's lap with Squalo doing his very best to avoid blowing up at the annoyance, it got even worse. After Squalo had finally gotten desensitized to the previous position, he sat down and before long, Bel appeared, as expected. But instead of taking his usual napping position, he wordlessly threw himself down on the couch, and leaned his back heavily on Squalo's arm, eliciting a growl that was cut off as the grin sprouted into existence. "Maa, what's wrong, Squalo~?" he lilted cheerfully, clearly enjoying the position he had forced upon the shark.

"Che, enjoying yourself?"

"More so than you'd think. I thought I'd have to lay down like usual, but you're pretty comfortable. I expected more of the great swordsman~"

Another bitten off growl, and Squalo went back to his usual routine of trying to ignore the prince forcefully sharing his personal space while Bel seemed quite content fully resting against his new-found substitution of Squalo's arm instead of the couch's.

It wasn't just things like the situation with the couch, either. Squalo would be minding his own business, passing by to go wherever it was he was headed, and he'd happen to hear a bit of a conversation between Bel and Mammon, or Bel and Lussuria, and inevitably he would be dragged into these conversations every now and then. He was amazed to find out that Belphegor actually had legitimate opinions on things other than his own fucked up childhood or his royal blood or how great it was to kill people, and more than once Squalo found himself getting caught up in a debate-not just an argument, but an actual debate, with reasoning from Bel's end that wasn't completely insane, and only about half the answers ended with "because I'm a prince" or "because I'm a genius."

It only took one instance of being distracted from some minor order from Xanxus by Belphegor's ridiculously tempting conversations for Squalo to start blocking out any noise whenever he saw Bel looking like he was thinking about things that weren't bloody.

And of course, there was the issue with missions. In most cases, tasks for the Varia were handed out on an individual basis, one person for one job, no hassle. But damn it if a certain someone didn't have to fuck things up just because he could. Squalo preferred going out on his own, because he obviously didn't need any help, so why should he bother dealing with the mind-numbing level of obnoxious bastards that were his fellow Varia members? It was common knowledge that Squalo didn't want any help, and it wasn't unexpected, seeing as most of them chose to do the easy things by themselves-get in, get out, get on with their lives.

Belphegor was an exception to this generally accepted rule. Of course he was, he couldn't make anything simple, could he? Bel would get assigned a job he didn't think 'sounded fun enough' and complain until someone agreed to accompany him just so he wouldn't get bored quite so easily. Were all teenagers so easy to bore, or was it just a self-proclaimed genius thing? Whatever it was, apparently having others tag along on his own jobs wasn't enough, because Bel would often tag along on the missions of others as well. Most recently, he was constantly trying to follow Squalo. Of course, Squalo found this creepy as fuck and asked for a reason, but as usual, the Storm was unable to say anything that didn't piss off Squalo further, and answered with a flippant, "Your jobs are more interesting, because you almost always get violent, even on the peaceful ones. It's like you just can't help yourself~"

The prince was stopped from following Squalo as often as possible. Sadly, there were still times that he just couldn't get the little bastard to go away. Actually, this happened more and more as time wore on, and damn it was starting to piss him off. But at the same time, Bel could be pretty useful when worse came to worst, when things went wrong and took a turn for the unexpected-basically, whenever things really did have to get violent no matter what. It didn't surprise Squalo that Bel was good at killing en masse as necessary, nor that he enjoyed it so much, and there were those times when Squalo almost got a limb sliced off because Bel hadn't cared to differentiate between friend and foe, but what did surprise him was the fact that when it had to, a sort of individual tandem could form when they fought together, and when they really got into it, it could actually be something resembling fun. If Bel noticed that Squalo might have found it slightly enjoyable, he didn't mention it, but after they first had a real fight together, the frequency of Bel's insistences to join in his missions raised even further.

Why was it so hard to avoid people like that? He could avoid Levi or Lussuria if he wanted, and yeah, maybe he didn't stand a chance in hell of avoiding Xanxus, but that was different. Belphegor was just another part of the Varia, and one of the annoying people Squalo strived to avoid whenever he could, because Bel being the masochistic little fuck he was, punishing him with violence proved useless. And he was everywhere.

Case in point, as Squalo meandered into the room with the television and now nearly infamous couch, a clearly exhausted prince was taking up the whole of the aforementioned couch, his jacket and striped shirt shed and abandoned nearby but his boots still on for some reason, his legs tossed over the arm of the couch that had at one time been reserved for his head. When he assumingly heard the shark enter he sat up slowly, his expression somehow seeming excessively tired even with his eyes being hidden, but he offered no other acknowledgement of Squalo's presence. With something resembling a sigh, Squalo sat down in his usual spot, completely on auto-pilot. He didn't even flinch when the prince flipped over and laid his entire upper half across the front of him, resting his head on the arm of the couch opposite his original napping position before offering a quiet huff and seemingly going right to sleep in his new-found comfort.

An exasperated roll of his eyes was all Squalo offered the weight on his lap before returning to his attempt at relaxing, which ended up being easier than he'd thought. When was it that he'd gotten used to this little shit laying all over him, treating him more or less like a bed?

. . . Fuck.