Title: Only 4 U

Pairing: Bel/Fran

Summary: Fran gets harassed in the street, and when Belphegor finds out, he takes matters into his own hands.

Notes: I own nothing.

Being the newbie in the Varia meant that Fran was always bossed around, and this night was no different. They had been running low on a few groceries, so they decided to send Fran out into the streets so that he could pick up what they needed. He had changed into some casual clothes and left the frog hat in his room before leaving for the nearest supermarket that was open the latest.

His arms now full of groceries, Fran began walking back to their headquarters, desperately wishing he had his driver's license. It would so much quicker that way, and then he wouldn't have to traverse through the dark. It wasn't like he was in a lot of danger, being an assassin and all, but it was still annoying. And every so often, he would run across some creeps.

One particular band of creeps decided to jump out of an alley in front of him. Fran stopped walking and raised an eyebrow at the small crowd of men that seemed to be trying their hardest to show off their tough guy looks but just managed to look ridiculous.

"Hold up there, girlie." The bald one who looked to be their leader spoke up, and Fran huffed in aggravation. He realized he looked a little androgynous and had a girl's name, but did muggers really need to make such an assumption? The bald leader continued nevertheless. "Hand over your money and nobody needs to get hurt."

"You couldn't have picked a more clichéd line." Fran drawled out, staring at them unimpressed, a little pleased when the creeps looked a little unnerved at his blasé attitude. "Also, I have no money. I spent it all on these groceries, which are currently in my arms, which would prevent me from getting any money I would have. You should try and think more about your targets before trying to mug them."

The leader looked satisfyingly shocked, though Fran noticed that a few of the other men were starting to look angry and insulted. He sighed and glanced around. He would rather not get in a physical confrontation when his arms were still filled with groceries. The men seemed to get over their shock and started to advance on him, so Fran heaved a weary sigh and cast an illusion of himself standing where he was while keeping his actual body hidden. If he was lucky, he could slip right by them while they were busy trying to hit the illusionary Fran.

The group surged at once, knives and pipes being swung at the illusion. Fran kept his eyes on his counterpart, keeping the illusion up, letting them think that they were pummeling the boy, various groceries strewn everywhere.

He didn't count on a particularly eager thug to have such a loose grip, and Fran had let his guard down. The knife in the thugs hand flew out and imbedded itself just above Fran's hip. He yelped in surprise and hunched forward, deciding that now would be the best time to break into a run and get away from them. The illusion behind him slowly faded away as he lost concentration in it, the crowd of thugs even more shocked.

After a few more minutes, he reached the Varia headquarters, out of breath and face pale. The knife was still stuck in his gut, though it wasn't like he wasn't used to it. Belphegor stabbed him all the time. He would just have to go in, drop off the groceries and see if the wound was dangerous enough that he needed Lussuria to see to it.

He managed to balance the bags in his arms well enough that he could open the door and made a beeline for the kitchen. He would rather see as few people as possible, since they would likely mock him for getting injured while getting groceries. The kitchen was empty, so he placed the bags on the counter and looked down at the small knife jutting out of his stomach. It was rather unpleasant to look at, so he gripped the handle, bracing his other hand against his stomach. He leaned against the counter for a moment, gathering himself, before he pressed in with one hand and pulled out with the other, the knife slipping out of his body with relative ease. He pressed his hand against the blood flow, feeling slightly nauseous.

"Might have to see Lussuria after all…" he mumbled, eyeing the knife before a flash of motion caught his eye. He looked up to see Belphegor standing in the doorway, wide smirk in place.

"Ushishishishi. I knew I smelled the froggy's blood," he said, easily striding into the room. "Little froggy got jumped in the streets?"

Fran huffed, placing the bloody knife on the counter and staring blandly at Belphegor. "Yes I was, and thanks to all of your requests in these bags I couldn't fight properly." The blonde just smirked and started taking things out of the shopping bags.

"You forgot my Pocky," he stated, opening a carton of eggs to see if any were cracked. "Who jumped you?"

"I did not forget the Pocky, you never asked for any in the first place, stupid sempai." Fran growled a little, pressing his hand a little harder against his wound. "And it's not like I stopped to ask their names. It was a group of guys with some bald leader and stereotypical attitudes."

"Ushishishi, I see." Belphegor turned away from the bags to look at Fran. "So," he said, raising a finger to press into Fran's chest, slowly dragging his hand down his shirt until it hovered over the hand that was covering the stab wound. "Does it hurt?"

"Getting stabbed is generally not a fun experience – ow!" Belphegor slipped his finger in between Fran's, jabbing into the wound tract in the process. He laughed and pried Fran's hand away from his hip, then got down on his knees, lifting up the material of Fran's shirt to expose the pale and bloodied flesh beneath. Fran shivered from the cold air and the feeling of Belphegor's cool fingers slipping around in the blood.

"Little froggy doesn't know any better." Belphegor murmured, his lips against Fran's skin, the smell of blood intoxicating.

"What are you going on about?"

Belphegor laughed and moved away from Fran's hips, standing up to his full height. He took Fran's chin in one hand, smears of blood staining his jaw. "Simply how you're not allowed to get stabbed by anyone other than me." The fingers on his jaw tightened and Fran froze, not entirely what to do in this sort of situation. A moment passed before Belphegor grinned again and patted Fran's cheek. "Lussuria's watching TV. I'll see you later."

He started walking away, towards the door that Fran entered from, and Fran watched him for a moment. "Where are you going?"

"Out." Belphegor replied, reaching into his pocket for his knives, grinning maniacally. "After all, you forgot my Pocky."

Fran went to the living room where Lussuria was, and allowed the man to fuss over him and heal his wound and watch TV together. And when Belphegor returned an hour later, tossing a bloodstained box of Pocky into his lap, he was only mildly surprised. Another hour later, when he had switched over to the news channel, he wasn't surprised at all to see a story about a group of thugs found slashed to pieces in an alley, especially when that bald head looked very familiar.