A/N: ...Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, I did it. I wrote a S80 fic. SOMEONE MARRY ME. :D Disclaimer: - Epic keyboard smash in name of all that is holy, KHR doesn't belong to me.
"Wait. Let me get this straight," Squalo murmured, taking a tiny, almost nonexistent step back and slapping a hand over his forehead and eyes. "You're refusing to have sex with me, in order to... have sex with me?"
"That's right," Takeshi replied with a satisfied crossing of his arms in front of his chest. His joy in his plan refused to be daunted by the older man's obvious skepticism. "If you won't have sex with me, then I won't have sex with you."
Ignoring the obvious lack of reasoning in the Japanese teen's plan, Squalo chose instead to respond in a growl, "Well, excuse me for trying to have some sense of morality. You're a bloody fuckin' minor, for Christ's sake, and last time I checked, you're not on the wrong side of law yet. You dug your own fucking grave. You and your stupid laws won't let me defile you."
Faltering, Takeshi went for the pout that always got him what he wanted. This time, however, Squalo smartly turned away before he could catch a glimpse.
"Squalo..." Takeshi whined. "C'mon. I know you want it as much as I do."
"Vooiii... There's no fucking way you want it as much as I do, brat." Squalo flashed him a glare through the reflection of a dresser mirror and the mirror mounted on the wall of the hotel. "But I'm not about to get myself wanted by the fuckin' Japanese. You people are scary when you're fucking pissed, dammit."
Because this conversation already lacked sense, Takeshi whispered back, rather conspiratorially, "What if you take me to Italy?"
"I'm already wanted there, brat, by hundreds of families, remember? That's what happens when you kill their elites every time they manage to inaugurate one into their ranks."
"France? England?"
"The Bastille Day sponsor, gone in his fucking sleep, the lucky bastard, and some assface of the royal family's distant cousin. It wasn't fucking pretty, vooii!"
"Geh..." Takeshi paused in a desperate attempt to remember his world geography. "Um... Russia?"
Squalo quirked an unamused eyebrow. "Are you fucking kidding me? Russia? Ever went up against a horde of the KGB? Fuck, those jackasses are like fuckin' piranhas. Them and their fucking AK-47s. It was only their prime minister, goddammit. Nothing that serious."
"You just don't want to have sex with me."
"I just don't want to get chased down by the fucking law again. You know how annoying it is to work around both the law and the underground?"
Takeshi shot his lover a confused look. "Why would you need to-"
"The person you try to kill is 89% of the time illegal," Squalo deadpanned. "But for some fucked up reason of the universe, if you're trying to kill someone, you're the one that's guilty, and they're more likely to grab and kill you instead of the other, way more illegal person you're trying to kill. The world is fucked up, Takeshi. People like me just have to learn to live with it."
"But Squalo..." Takeshi tried a new tactic. "I love you."
Squalo didn't respond. Squalo couldn't respond.
"Squalo, I love you." Damn the brat for saying the sappy words with such simple honesty, when Squalo can barely think them without wanting to smack a nearby mirror. "Don't you love me?"
"You know the answer to that, brat," Squalo muttered, refusing to meet the teen's gaze.
"But I want to hear you say it," Takeshi continued, voice getting continuously teasing. "Please, Squalo? Confirm the answer?"
"Fuck you..." the older man replied weakly. He was too busy tracing his gaze over the patterns on the floor to notice the change of the glint in Takeshi's eyes, from humorous to devious. When Squalo noticed the change in the atmosphere, though, it was too late.
"Gladly," Takeshi whispered against Squalo's mouth. His fingers were already deftly unbuttoning the Varia uniform, having already remembered where each clasp and zipper is to get the Italian man out of his clothes fastest.
"Vooiii, you stupid brat...!"
"No going against your word, Squalo," Takeshi pouted, and this time, Squalo got the blast head-on. The swordsman didn't so much as weakened, but melted against the teen, and began sucking on Takeshi's bottom lip with a low moan.
Takeshi was already smiling, when Squalo pushed him away. Hard. Takeshi's head almost hit the wall of his bedroom when he looked up, almost glaring.
"What?" There was no exclamation mark, because Takeshi didn't do exclamation marks in anger. Only in happiness, surprise, and surprised happiness.
He watched as Squalo take a few deep breaths to calm himself, then look up with the hottest, most smoldering bedroom gaze Takeshi has ever seen. He found himself slightly giddy and drunk from the heat of that gaze.
"...Mombasa," Squalo finally said, voice husky and guttural. "I'm dying to see if those M90As are all that they're said to be."
A/N: So, anyone want a hug~? :D Free ones, if you review~!