Chapter Text
Dino Cavallone, by conventional definitions, was a very attractive man. Boss of a successful family, sort of tall, talented in combat, and rather caring for someone working in crime. What a dreamboat. Some might even call him the hottest bachelor in the Italian mob! Xanxus would call him the guy that liked to hang around Squalo.
The Cavallone and the Vongola went way back, hell knows how, so it made sense that their boss was entangled with battles the Varia got dragged into. The shark and Bronco knew each other as kids. Knew each other before he met Squalo, which was a feat of its own. Ring battles, inheritance ceremony, and every fucking “family event” that existed, that scum always seemed to show up when his captain was involved, in true friendly fashion. All ready to be charismatic and blond.
Squalo left out of nowhere to go “help” him a few days ago. Crossed the fucking ocean at a moment's notice.
If he had been on a shorter fuse these past few days, none of his subordinates said anything. No amount of wrath flames directed into walls and conveniently placed grunts got rid of the weird tension under his skin, which was fucking annoying. Of course, every piece of shit who fell victim to it was muttering under their breath about “wishing Captain Squalo was here,” and yeah, Xanxus wished he was here too so he could break his face into a table. Most of his officers wisely kept their distance, save for Levi. Creepy fuck always got way too close when Squalo was gone like he was trying to prove himself as a good replacement. Pissed him off even more, because oh yeah, his actual captain was alone in a foreign country with fucking Cavallone . The fire that poured into his grasp was not quite rage. He didn’t know what it was, but he directed it at anyone who came close and left it at that.
It got to the point that no one would interrupt him no matter what he was doing, which was admittedly ideal, but not when reports from headquarters were delayed out of fear. Lussuria had tentatively let him know that Squalo had called for backup in Japan, and within the hour they were carting off to meet him. Great that he could communicate with Lussuria now, after days of radio silence with his actual boss.
After touching down, a quick scan showed no signs of the shark, or Cavallone, for that matter. He busied himself with combat instead, bullets laced with an extra ugliness. He knew that trash wasn’t dead, but the idea made him laugh in that bomb brat’s face. If he got hurt, serves him right for having a worthless fucker like Cavallone to back him up in a fight. The dinosaur freak he was fighting was boring, but if he imagined him slightly more modelesque and perfect in every way, somehow his shots became more precise.
By the time the shark walked his ass onto the battlefield, Xanxus could barely stand upright from the flames getting pulled from his body by that Ghost…thing. Still had enough in him to dodge and parry, but one look at Squalo and God knows if he had any more stamina he would’ve shot the face off the smug fucker he was leaning on and then turned the gun around to kill himself too.
Through this war, they had both been busier than ever. Made sense. Squalo was his strategy captain, after all. If they saw each other, it was briefly between battles or on the battlefield itself. There wasn’t much free time to do what they, or more accurately, he , wanted. That fucking scum left days ago to fraternize with a puppy dog, and the first time he sees him he’s leaning up against him. Full body weight, using him as a nice little support when there was no perceivable injury to his legs. When he hadn’t touched the man he claimed to devote his life to in weeks. His fingers were practically twitching on the trigger and he had no idea who would be on the receiving end. It didn’t matter. He just needed to kill something.
“You’re late,” he spat, because he really was fucking late and the back of his mind had mumbled I was worried about you before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth as an insult.
Squalo scoffed, giving him eye contact for half a second before dismissing him altogether. “Well, sorry!” He apologized, sarcastically, of course, offset by the critical injuries that required him to cling to Italy’s next top model. Fuck him. He deserved it.
Everything that happened after made his mood worse, and he could feel Lussuria and Bel eyeing him cautiously as things unfolded. First, that Byakuran fucker showed himself and immediately called him subservient to Sawada, and he was almost glad for the way it gave him something to shoot at. What he wasn’t expecting was for the Sky Arcobaleno to sacrifice her life, which wouldn’t have been upsetting by itself, but her ‘bodyguard’ had jumped in to die with her. He could name certain people who were less loyal than that.
Whatever. At the end of the day, Sawada won. The Vongola won. That was what he told himself as he focused again on Squalo, partially trying to burn him alive with sheer force of will. That blue-haired trash from earlier was saying some bullshit now about parallel universes and Byakuran saving him, and Jesus fucking Christ Squalo was still on that asshole’s shoulder. Xanxus closed his eyes, and when they opened the blabbering trash’s head was blown off. Funny how that worked.
Sawada was whining about it, because of course he was, so Lussuria made some empty promises to keep him alive and they finally, finally left the battlefield. But his captain stayed behind.
He ended up only a few minutes behind, Xanxus would come to find out because he wanted to say goodbye to the baseball brat before they returned to the past. Still pissed him right the fuck off. What was he - his right-hand man, Yamamoto’s personal sword sharpener, or Cavallone’s passion project? If he couldn’t decide, Xanxus was going to pick for him.
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Squalo had been in arguably worse circumstances, but being hunted by the Millefiore for sport was not optimal. He was used to high stress, running the madhouse that was the Varia since the ripe age of fourteen, but recently it had been off the charts. Running, ambushing, running again, ordering new shipments of supplies, training recruits, training himself - and yet still having to wrangle the Varia officers like always. It was never-ending, and he wished he’d been more grateful when the worst thing in his life was losing a stupid ring battle. At least there was downtime in between assignments back then. Now it was just mission after goddamn mission, with no time to heal unless you had Lussuria. This situation created one additional, unforeseen problem.
It was pathetic. Superbia meant pride, and Squalo was a prideful man. He was not particularly proud of the way he had been avoiding his Boss so as not to jump him while discussing battle strategies.
Turns out that when lives are at stake, the time allotted for romantic trysts declines exponentially. It had been months now, or something like that because Squalo stopped counting, since they were even sort of alone. Disposable time was a thing of the past. If he stuck around too much, he knew he’d end up kissing him, and if he kissed him, that shit would not stay as a kiss. Not with how his Boss was. It was better to avoid him altogether because eventually he would get too caught up in it and miss an enemy ambush, killing them all instantly. Something along those lines.
So that Yamamoto brat losing to Genkishi an odd ten thousand kilometers away was the perfect opportunity to flee the scene.
Dino happened to be there too, got scouted by Reborn, and they had been training the brats to fight against the Millefiore. He never saw himself as much of a teacher, but he had worn about twenty new hats within the last year, so what was one more? It also gave him time to briefly catch up with Cavallone, who was decidedly still annoying.
“Aren’t you excited for this to be over?” He had asked, and well, yeah. Why wouldn’t he be? Squalo told him as much, and he just laughed. “You got something waiting for you when it’s over though, don’t you? Someone?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Ew. Asshole. “Shut the fuck up,” Squalo responded eloquently. Dino laughed harder.
“You don’t change much, do you? Said the same thing back in middle school when I asked you about him.” It was then when that dumbass had to dodge a fist.
By the time Choice was over, they were scrambling at the base. He could only barely contact Luss and silently prayed that the idiot would send reinforcements. Something about “the Boss eating” was stalling him before Squalo was rudely interrupted by an explosion. Why the Boss eating would stop anyone from talking to him if they were worth shit was lost on him. Worthless cowards.
It was lucky that Cavallone and Yamamoto had gone back to help him after he was bested by that Funeral Wreath. He wasn’t about to thank them, but it was admittedly helpful to have Dino as support as they tried to meet up with the others. For the time being, he counted on adrenaline to keep him conscious and tried not to think about the injuries Luss would coo over later.
If Luss was cooing over his injuries, his Boss was trying to make them worse with his glare alone. What the fuck was his problem? Squalo wasn’t expecting that shithead to be jumping for joy at his survival, but seeming personally offended by it was another thing. The second they had gotten to the battlefield, all he was getting was a weird animosity.
“You’re late,” said shithead proclaimed, huffing like he was annoyed and immediately turning away. How sweet. What an original line, and just for him too!
Sure, he had given him something snippy right back, but what was he expecting? The usual suspects were lamenting his assumed death and more so his ‘unfortunate’ survival. At least Luss was genuinely concerned, though it was safe to assume he said something quite the opposite during his absence based on the “Smokin’ Bomb” brat’s incredulous look. Business as usual.
The entire battle he could feel his eyes on him. It was a familiar enough sensation, and he’d be flattered if it wasn’t filled with enough malice to kill an elephant. Ghost’s stamina-depleting abilities hadn’t quite drained the assholery out of him. A shame.
When the battle was over, and in victory at that, the Vongola and their allies were celebrating. Crying, hugging, yelling, what have you. Xanxus, on the other hand, shot the Millefiore’s cloud point blank in the head and stalked off with his gun still hot. It was like him to not allow slip-ups or survivors, so he didn’t think anything of it despite Sawada’s squeaking. No way Lussuria was keeping that motherfucker alive, but as long as it shut those stupid kids up he’d say anything.
After meeting briefly with Yamamoto to say his farewells, he caught up with the rest of the Varia to go home. That brat was obnoxious as ever.
“You got something waiting for you when it’s over though, don’t you?” Dino’s stupid question replayed in his mind as he boarded the Varia’s jet home. The “something” had fallen asleep, as he was prone to, sitting upright. Idiot.