#x18

Xanxus scowls, shifting his weight as cold rain pelts against the pavement. The only thing keeping him from getting soaked is the damn umbrella Squalo had shoved into his hand before storming off with Cavallone. Unbelievable. One minute, they were supposed to be heading back after picking up some stupid reports from the Vongola base. The next, Cavallone tripped—because of course he did—splashing water all over the shitty shark’s precious papers, and now they had to go back, leaving him stuck here. 

And with who?

Xanxus side-eyes the Vongola brat standing just close enough to avoid the worst of the downpour. The too-pretty pale-skinned Cloud Guardian, the one with the tonfas that had given him some trouble during the Ring Battles. Xanxus grimaces at the thought before promptly stuffing it into the mental void where his inconvenient memories go to die. Damn it, what was this brat’s name again? H-something. Hibiki? Hibachi? No, that isn’t right. Squalo would know, but Squalo had abandoned him to deal with this himself. 

Rain drips from the edge of the umbrella, splattering against the brat’s coat.

“You’re getting water on my coat,” comes the cool, unimpressed remark.

Xanxus barely suppresses an eye-roll. “Tch. Not my problem, Cloud Man.” 

H-something crosses his arms, gaze cutting like a blade. “Hold it properly. Or is even basic coordination too much for the infamous Varia boss?” 

This little shit.

What the hell's taking Squalo so damn long?

The brat then, with the audacity of a bold pigeon, steps into Xanxus’s space, crowding in like he could physically dislodge Xanxus from the center of the umbrella’s coverage. The movement is deliberate, aggravating, and too damn close.

Xanxus is ready to shove him off, but the air is damp and cold, and suddenly there’s heat. The solid press of whatever-his-name-is against his side, warmth cutting through the miserable chill and the multiple layers of clothing. It’s, quite frankly, offensive. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing? Back off,” Xanxus growls, and pushes back against the brat to make space. “And if you’re gonna whine about a little water, get your own fucking umbrella.”

Hibiki-Hibachi doesn’t budge, which jogs something in Xanxus’ memory—for someone so scrawny and with a face like a porcelain doll, the brat is a lot stronger than he looks. “I don’t need one,” he says, tone clipped. “My men always handle it. You, on the other hand, are completely useless.”

Xanxus scoffs. “What, you want me to hold it over you like you’re some kind of princess?”

The brat glares. “I’ll bite you to death.”

The thing is, Xanxus had been feeling worn down by jet lag after the trip to Japan. Now, he actually wants to fight this Cloud punk. Because this? This is unbearable. The cold rain, the way it contrasts with the warmth pressing in beside him... hnngh.

There’s only one way to fix this, Xanxus decides: violence.

In one sharp motion, Xanxus flips the umbrella around and swings it like a bat straight at the brat’s head.

The Cloud moves fast, too fast, his tonfa already raised by the time the umbrella swings down—

CRACK.

The umbrella takes the full brunt of the hit instead. The thin metal frame bends, fabric tears, and it snaps completely in half.

Silence. 

The rain keeps pouring. The two of them stand there, thoroughly drenched, contemplating the sad, broken remains of their only protection from the downpour.

The Cloud smiles, acting as if he isn’t soaked to the bone and his white shirt isn’t clinging obscenely to his chest like the cover of a bad romance novel cover. “Tired already?”

“Nah,” Xanxus allows, feeling generous today. “Not until I make you deepthroat those tonfas of yours, princess.”

Tilting his head slightly, the Cloud eyes Xanxus with what could pass as genuine consideration. “That kind of profanity violates the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee’s code,” he says evenly, his smile sharpening into a predatory smirk as he speaks. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

Whatever the soaked Vongola brat, looking way too good dripping wet, is mumbling about makes no damn sense to Xanxus, but he laughs anyway, grin loose and hungry, as he yanks his guns from their holsters. Maybe it’s worth learning this kid’s name after all.

Xanxus charges.

*~*🌸*~*🌸*~*🌸*~*

The steady, indifferent rain washes away the footprints, the blood, and any immediate evidence of violence—except for one thing.

A nearly unrecognizable umbrella lies discarded in a puddle, bent at odd angles, fabric shredded like something out of a crime scene.

Squalo and Dino stop in their tracks.

Eyes on the wreckage, Dino frows. “Should we… look for them?”

Squalo stares at him like he’s just suggested something truly moronic. “Hah? Hell no. Let ‘em kill each other, I ain’t getting between those two.”

Dino hesitates. “But what if Kyoya—”

Squalo is already turning on his heel, flicking rain from his hair in frustration. “Nope. Don’t care. Not my problem. Let’s go, Cavallone, before you make me waste any more of my goddamn time.”

Dino sighs, but follows.

The broken umbrella lies there, abandoned. The rain keeps falling.

Somewhere in the distance, there’s a thunderous gunshot, followed by the metallic clash of metal on metal.

Squalo doesn’t even flinch. “See? They’re fine.”

Faust is a very harsh, controlling person, especially at first.

But he’s very sweet for you, and his controlling nature changes more into protectiveness.

He worries about you a lot, and always has this feeling that he needs to protect you.

He knows better than anyone how cruel the world can be, being a “cruel” man himself.

His favorite thing to do is dress you up in lavish clothing, just for him to look at.

Going shopping and finding the most expensive clothing, accessories fills him with a rush.

Especially when he can take you to a boutique and get you dolled up even more.

Because he knows he gets to take it all off, removing each step like unwrapping a Christmas gift.

Your body truly is a temple, and he intends on doing with it as he pleases.

He loves to bite, even for a vampire.

After every session with you, you’re always covered in hickeys, bites, and all sorts of marks.

He loves every single inch of your body.

Faust has licked, rubbed, kissed, touched every single inch of it.

Your soft skin is his favorite feeling in the world.

He’s also amazing at aftercare, and makes sure to incorporate a little bit of body worship every time.

Letting you know each and every part of your vessel he loves.

From your gorgeous legs to your shining eyes and soft hair.

But don’t get it confused, Faust isn’t just in it for your body.

He loves your heart, and your mind, and genuinely wants to give you everything he can.

He’s fascinated by you, being a human and all, and loves that you love him so much.

He has many questions about the world you came from, and especially wants to know about the future of science and medicine.

Faust gives a lot of German nicknames

I think Schneckchen would be a big one for him, as well as the ones he already gives.