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As the second hand hit 12, Tiziano stretched his arms.
6:40. It'll take 3 minutes to tidy the table– though he obviously wouldn’t need all of it– and 17 to walk to Squalo's favourite bar. Of course, there was always room for traffic to alter his latter estimate, which irked him. But there was no complaining now, his past self had decided it was a worthwhile tradeoff for more time on work. Besides, he’ll probably still end up arriving earlier than Squalo.
To be frank, he wasn't very excited. He was always happy for the opportunity to see Squalo, but the prospect of going out for drinks never appealed to him. And knowing Squalo, he was sure the night would end with him escorting the other man home, carrying his slumped body on his shoulders.
And god forbid a single person provoke him while he was in that drunken stupor. Then Tiziano's responsibility further extended to what could best be described as a living straightjacket.
Just the thought made his muscles ache in complaint, begging not to be forced outside. The brief ache caused him to drop one of his papers. He watched blankly as it floated down on the polished wood floor.
...Head tilt left, hair brushes against the cheek. Inhale. The paper has been sitting there for 20 seconds now.
He checked the clock. 2 minutes have passed.
How irksome.
_________
7:06. Squalo is late. As expected. But at least Tiziano's bill was now Squalo's responsibility. Why that man chose to bleed money on a commitment he knew he couldn't uphold was beyond Tiziano.
"Tizzano!"
There he was. Tiziano looked up to see the redhead strolling up to him, hands in the pockets of a beaten leather jacket, wearing a wifebeater underneath, a tacky small sharktoothed necklace jostled on his collarbone, all while its wearer grinned from ear to ear. His hair was arranged in those sharp ponytails, held back by a hairband like he always had at work. Tiziano wondered if he’d just been running an errand. He returned a small smile, raising his eyebrows.
"You're 6 minutes late, Rossi."
Squalo let out a shuddered breath. "Eugh, don't talk like that. You sound far too much like the leader..."
"Yet, if it'll inspire you to be more punctual..."
"Hah! That man couldn't inspire a lamb away from a slaughterhouse." Squalo grinned, pointing. "But deal's a deal- your snacks are on me again."
Tiziano smirked slightly. "You're better off handing me your wallet at this point. I'd prefer it that way." Squalo chuckled heartily, Tiziano put his arm on his shoulder and leaned in.
“You laugh, but I'm nearly serious. You understand that the point of a bet like this is to motivate you to come earlier, yes?"
Squalo shrugged. "What can I say? I'm incorrigible."
Tiziano narrowed his eyes. "Uh huh." Getting off Squalo’s shoulder, he gently poked the other man’s chest. "If you wanted excuses to treat me, you could just offer."
"Maybe!” Squalo said, making his way over to the door. “Or maybe I know not to pick battles I'll lose." He swung it open and held it for Tiziano, smirking. "Or– of course– maybe I'm just terrible at being punctual."
Tiziano chuffed. He walked in as Squalo bowed mockingly. He found a seat at the bar, and Squalo sat down beside him.
"Fair enough. But how about this?" Tiziano mused, gently placing his chin on the back of his hand. "The next time you're late, you should give me your whole wallet."
"Ehhhh-" Squalo grimaced, all whimsy fading from his expression. "Let's not go *that* far."
"Why not?" Tiziano raised his hand to call over the barkeep. "With the stakes raised, perhaps you'll have real incentive to show up on time."
Squalo knit his brows- "Are you really this invested in seeing me 6 minutes longer?"
"Call it a vested interest in improving my co-worker's efficiency and work ethic. Getting to see you longer is an unintended and unfortunate side effect, but it's a burden I'm willing to shoulder."
He saw Squalo scowl out the corner of his eye, pretended not to see it and put a hand to his own chest. "You're very lucky that I am so generous with my time, the average man likely would never take on this Herculean task, I mean, forced to spend more time with you?? Unimaginable-”
"Oh shut up-" Squalo snapped before biting his tongue, seeing Tiziano's mouth twitch in a smile at successfully goading him. He didn't need to form a proper response, as the bartender had finally reached them.
They both placed an order, Squalo for beer and Tiziano a combination deal, beer and plate of bruschetta. The prices at this place were quite good for its relative quality, an upside to their frequents here.
As expected, the beers arrived first and Squalo thanked the barkeep. Tiziano thanked them as well, then pushed both glasses towards his partner. Squalo scrunched his face.
"...I thought it was strange you ordered alcohol."
Tiziano smiled dryly. "You should know me better by now."
Squalo groaned, pushing the drink back. Tiziano glanced at him and raised his eyebrows, causing the redhead to sigh, taking back the beer.
"Damn. I was hoping you'd actually drink with me today.” He visibly perked up.
“You understand-" He said, laying on Tiziano’s shoulder like he’d done before, wiggling his fingers mockingly, "that the point of going out drinking with friends is to- you know, drink? Together?"
“Alcohol is a crutch for those too afraid to do or say what they want without liquid courage.” Tiziano said matter of factly. “If I have anything worth saying to you, it'll be from my own mouth, unmitigated by substances.”
Squalo raised both his eyebrows.
"...Damn. I just like the taste.” He shrugged. “Honestly though, can't say I disagree. Luckily for me there’s nothing I’d say drunk I wouldn’t say sober anyways!"
“Most people would see that as a bad thing.”
Squalo ignored that as he smirked, lifting only one eyebrow this time, raising the glass in offering.
"Are you sure, or are you just afraid you can't handle your alcohol? You can tell me~"
Tiziano laughed softly, then let out a short breath. "Good try, but no.”
Squalo laughed. "It was worth a shot-" as he raised the glass to his mouth.
Tiziano watched as his lips touched the edge of the glass, imagining the muscles in his arm flexing subtly as he raised the glass with what's likely to be the most restraint he'll have tonight. The gold liquid shifts its weight, tip of the foamy tide making contact and disappearing behind slightly parted lips. His head tilted upwards, his Adam's apple pulsed as Tiziano could only imagine the liquid running down his throat. The muscles in his neck relaxed as he then set the glass down, small traces of white foam lingering on his lip, wiped away by lightly bruised knuckles to reveal Squalo's satisfied grin.
"Ah. Hits the spot."
Tiziano chuffed, rolling his eyes, and started picking away at dirt under his nails. He heard Squalo take another swig, gasping for air when he finished.
"Shit, this is some nice beer. What did you order?"
Tiziano shrugged, Squalo then got to taking sips of both glasses of beer back and forth, mumbling about the vague differences in flavour.
He's going to end up drunk much faster if he keeps drinking at this speed. Tiziano estimated that he had about 30 minutes of normal conversation before it inevitably devolved.
While Squalo was comparing his beers, Tiziano’s bruschetta arrived. 6 pieces. He gingerly picked one up, admiring the messy yet elegant composition of tomatoes on top, heat of the bread warming his fingertips, before taking a measured bite.
6 pieces.
Spread over 45 minutes.
Piece one.
They started jabbering about the logistics behind giving Tiziano his wallet as punishment for tardiness. Questions such as “what if I took all the money out beforehand” were asked, followed by grumbles after it was rightfully identified as a coward's way out.
“The question is though, do you hate cowardice more than you hate losing your money?”
“Of fucking course I do- what do you take me for??”
“Someone with poor priorities.”
Piece two.
Turning pink in the face and ideologically backed into a corner, Squalo tried to negotiate his way out of giving Tiziano his wallet. At one point, he suggested setting a static amount to lose, but Tiziano steadfastly opposed any suggestion from Squalo.
“It’d have to be either the wallet or €250.”
“You… But you’ll give back the wallet after emptying it?”
“Of course not.”
“What the- Damnit Tiz!!! Do you know how expensive nice wallets are?”
“Notably, yes. This would be part of the punishment’s design.
“Fuck- that’s not even my main concern, I like my wallet- …Wait wait wait, what if I show up late and I don’t have a wallet after you’ve taken it the first time?”
“Then you’ll have to give me €250.”
“WHAT???”
Piece three.
Squalo, having gone through a lightning round of the stages of grief, agrees to the wallet bet’s terms. Tiziano then admits he never had any intention to enact the wallet-stealing bet at all, but was amused at how seriously Squalo took it. Squalo utters various expletives and steals a piece of bruschetta as revenge. This does not bother Tiziano at all. Squalo downs two extra pints.
Piece five.
Squalo has forgiven Tiziano and has started to complain about their squad leader. Tiziano, not particularly fond of the man himself, listened intently and occasionally gave helpful and unbiased advice.
“-That idiot had the GALL to call Clash ‘circumstantially useful at best’- He’s one to talk, what’s his stand ever achieved that’s better than either of us??”
“I agree. He’s a spineless coward hiding behind seniority. If he weren’t so old, he’d have none of the prestige he flaunts over us.”
“Exactly!! In fact, why are the two of us underneath him at all? That useless old coot. I wish he’d just keel over.”
“It’s a wonder why no one has overthrown him by now.”
“Agreed, honestly I should just get Clash to rip his dick off, maybe he’d bleed out.”
“No, it’d be too easy to just kill him or torture him. We must identify who he respects and who’s important to him. Then we’ll slowly tear them away from him, humiliate him in front of those he respects, craft stories of betrayal against those he loves. If we lay the pieces right, we can watch from the sidelines as he drowns, culled in a destined flood, destroyed by his hubris and shortsightedness that he sealed his own coffin with. His body will lay the fertile ground for maggots and dirt from which we will create a new, better world upon.”
Tiziano took Squalo’s hand, gripping it tightly.
“Tell me, Squalo. Should we start with his 24 year old wife, or his aging mother in Naples?”
“...I don’t really know. I… don’t think I actually have a plan to… revenge him.”
“Oh. …Well, in that case yes. I hope Clash rips his dick off.”
Realising he misread the situation, Tiziano lets go of Squalo’s hand and takes a sip of his refilled beer, regretting it as soon as the taste hits his tongue. Squalo is surprised but is too drunk to bat an eye.
Piece six.
Squalo is now rather red in the cheeks, shaking his head in frustration whenever his words end up slurring. He complains about his apartment building and how the steps are too steep in some places and too shallow in others. He also complains about the price of fishtanks, something he’s been wanting to install for Clash, and the swaths of mosquitoes he unintentionally hosted with standing water and had to dispose of.
“How was I supposed to know leaving an open container of water would breed bugs??”
“Me. I told you this.”
“You did??”
“Yes. At least 2 times before.”
“Oh. Welllll… let me order you another set of bruschetta.”
“I really don’t want-”
“BARKEEP!!!!”
Piece seven.
It’s now been over an hour since they got here, Squalo is complaining about politics, but Tiziano had stopped paying attention since his eyes were locked on the freshly arrived 6 new pieces of bruschetta. Waiting for… something. A part of his brain to click into place and accept his fate.
He didn’t really account for this. He likely won’t have an appetite for dinner later. How fun.
Still. The show must go on.
Piece. seven.
He bitterly reached for a piece, giving it a once-over before popping it in his mouth entirely. He glanced over at Squalo, who had stopped ranting for a second to stare slack jawed, as if Tiziano had just unhinged his jaw like a snake. But at the sight of the returning glare, Squalo coughed and continued his ranting.
…Piece twelve.
Tiziano did not want to eat any more bruschetta.
His appetite had never been particularly abundant, but he was mostly exhausted at the sheer amount of bread and tomatoes he’d eaten today. Admittedly, Squalo had helped him with piece 8 and 9. That he could thank him for, though it was in question whether Squalo had ordered this for Tiziano or himself.
Squalo. He glanced over at him. The redhead had gone silent, holding his recently finished sixth glass up to his chin. It’d been empty for a while now, so it seems today he’d chosen to exercise some level of restraint. His cheeks were the trademark red of a drunkard, but his demeanour seemed strangely pensive. His periwinkle shaded eyes were partly glazed over, staring off into space. His brows were furrowed, the sharp, almost triangular arch flattened in a look of uncharacteristic disconcertment.
Actually, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet since piece ten. Tiziano realised he hadn’t fully noticed because he’d been… mentally preoccupied with bruschetta.
He raised his fingers and tapped Squalo’s shoulder twice. Squalo snapped to attention, turning to Tiziano with heavy eyes. Tiziano didn’t know how to feel about drawing his gaze, which now looked so different from how it usually did, but he didn’t let that doubt appear on his face as he raised his eyebrow in concern.
“Are you feeling alright?”
Squalo’s shoulders tensed. “Yeah.” He said, a bit breathily. “I was just thinking.”
Tiziano chuckled softly. “Really?”
He gently rapped the knuckles of his fingers against Squalo’s head, causing a delayed grumble from the flushed redhead. “I didn’t know you had brain cells left to be thinking with.”
Squalo swatted Tiziano’s hand away from his head, mumbling incoherently before taking a big breath. He put down his glass, rubbing the back of his neck with his now free hand. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
With this Tiziano tensed a bit, though he consciously made sure not to show it in his body language.
“Ask away.”
He was concerned. Rightfully so. Squalo asking permission to ask a question?
Something was clearly wrong.
Tiziano’s mind raced as he wondered what could be troubling him this much. Was he being moved to a different team? No, that doesn’t make sense, why would he be asking Tiziano a question? Had he gotten into trouble? Did someone in his family die? Did he want to know something about Tiziano? Or did he just need advice? …For what??
Squalo grit his teeth. “Have you…” he cleared his throat, Tiziano steadying his own breathing so as to not break composure. Inhale. Exhale. Chest expands. Release, but do not fully exhale, reveal nothing.
After an anticipatory second, Squalo finally managed to muster-
“Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”
…Huh?
Really? Was that it?
“...Is that all you wanted to ask?”
Squalo tensed, and nodded curtly.
“........Pfffffft-”
Tiziano let out a rather loud snort. Squalo’s cheeks flushed a deeper red, his fist clenching tightly as he glared.
“What!?!”
Tiziano waved a single hand, trying to hold back laughter. “I apologize, you looked so serious, I thought there was something wrong. I didn’t expect you to ask for my dating history.”
Squalo flushed, frowning. “You making fun of me?”
“No no, think of that as a… a laugh of relief.”
“Oh my god- just answer the damn question!”
Tiziano wagged his finger. “Nuh uh. Not with those manners.”
“Pah. Fuck you. Can you please answer the question?”
“Good job.” He smirked. Squalo scowled at him. “Let’s see… Girlfriends…” Tiziano tapped his chin performatively, drawing out the word and as Squalo tapped his fingers against the table impatiently, face contorted in an ugly and embarrassed frown.
Unfortunately for him, this was hilarious to Tiziano.
To further rub salt in the wound, Tiziano gestured for Squalo to wait as he picked up the last piece of bruschetta, taking a slowwwwww and measureddddd bite. He was thankful for this sudden turn of events. Bread and tomatoes have never tasted so good. He felt almost giddy as he felt Squalo’s angry glare bouncing off him as he chewed, then swallowed, then gave a drawn out sigh of satisfaction, then looked back at Squalo, tilting his head.
“I’ve never had one. I’ve never dated before.”
Squalo’s eyes bugged. “Really??? No one???” He pointed at him. “Is it cuz you were catholic? Or are you fucking with me?”
Tiziano shrugged. “No, religion didn’t play a part, really. It’s just never been something I’ve concerned myself with.”
Squalo’s surprised expression fell into confusion, then disappointment. His eyes lowered heavy lids, even his shoulders deflated as he exhaled.
This amused Tiziano even more.
“Have I let down your expectations?” He said, grinning. “Sorry I’m not the casanova you‘ve thought me to be.”
Squalo seemed to snap back to attention, shocked and flustered over Tiziano accurately reading his emotions. “What? I’m not- Who said I was-”
“Are you desperate for love advice? Did you want me to give you pointers on how to talk to women?”
“No, nononono, I was trying to-”
“Wait. Oh ho. Squalo, is there a girl you have your eye on?”
“What???”
“Squalo Rossi, my adorable partner, in love???”
“Adorable??? No it's not a- fuck- NO, Tiz, there is no girl.” Squalo blinked hard, trying to collect his thoughts. Tiziano found this hilarious, the mirth overpowering anything else arising in his chest. He leaned on the other man’s shoulder, poking his forehead.
“Come on, Squalo. Just tell me, who’s the lucky lady~? Do I know her?”
Squalo growled, shaking Tiziano off. “No, you don’t know her because she doesn’t fucking exist.”
Tiziano smirked wider still and shook Squalo around by the shoulders, crooning in his ear mockingly.
“Don’t be so mean, there's nothing to be embarrassed of~”
“I’m not embarrassed, I’m pissed ‘cus your stupid answer didn’t give me any useful information.”
Tiziano stopped. He let go of Squalo’s shoulders, who at the same time, seemed to slowly realise what he’d said. Tiziano calmly and slowly sat back in his seat, adjusting his position as the chair now felt incredibly uncomfortable. When he finished, he made steady eye contact with Squalo, whose expression seemed incredibly sober.
“...Useful information about what?”
Blue eyes glanced away guiltily. Tiziano narrowed his.
“Squalo.”
The calling of his name made the man nearly jolt in his seat. He tugged at the ends of one of his ponytails, the curls straightening under tension.
“I- uh…” he managed to croak out, “I wanted to know, if- if you’d ever- if you were *cough* -interested in...”
Tiziano raised his eyebrows. “In what? Women?
“Well- Yeah, I mean, I guess…”
Inhale. Chest expands. Controlled exhale. Squalo’s breath also seemed to tremble.
“I was trying to figure out if you’re-”
“A faggot?”
Squalo stiffened. A few people glanced over at them at the mere mention of the word. But Tiziano felt no need to mince words: just annoyed. There's a twisting knot in his chest. He felt insulted by the backhanded way of asking. Still, he could feel his face flushing with blood, his heart beating. He was getting too worked up. Deep breath in. Relax the muscles in the face. Retain calm composure. Patience is a virtue.
In a reluctant exhale, Tiziano looked at Squalo.
“Ask properly.”
Squalo’s eyes almost shot out his head. “...Huh?”
“You know I hate beating around the bush. It’s an insult to my time. So ask. What you really wanted to ask. Properly.”
Tiziano took a breath, leaned back in his chair and tilted his head inquisitively, waiting for Squalo’s response. The redhead swallowed, then bit his lip so hard Tiziano was briefly worried he'd draw blood. He looked away to clear his throat.
“Do you- uhm. What's your…” he flushed an even deeper red, reaching his ears. “Fuck. Sexual… direction?”
“Orientation.”
“T-thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Tiziano took a deep breath. “As for my answer…”
He suddenly found something catching in his throat. His assurance seemed to drain from his body as a silence came upon them. He tried to swallow it as he looked at Squalo’s trepid expression. Was it trepid at all? What is that expression? Why did he want to know this? Tiziano couldn’t help but also feel the eyes of the other bar patrons shifting onto them-
Though that was stupid to worry about. They’re not likely to be looking, engrossed in their own conversations. If they wanted to try something, he could more than happily let them try. He couldn’t give less of a damn what random, irrelevant strangers thought of him.
But… he cared what Squalo thought.
Tiziano wasn’t so sure about his answer anymore, even though it wasn’t as if he was actually going to admit to anything. His steady breathing hitched for just a second. This… moment of weakness was unlike him. He pushed it aside.
“It’s never been something I’ve thought about. Romance has always been irrelevant to me. In fact, there’s never really been a stage- or even a moment of my life where it- or dating, has been of concern to me.”
This was largely true. Squalo looked… Tiziano wasn’t sure what expression that was but it certainly wasn’t satisfaction. He watched as the other man seemed to swallow, clearing his throat. He seemed incredibly uncomfortable at the non-answer, his eyes dodgy.
Being vague wasn’t the right move. Tiziano quickly added an amendment.
“I’m normal though- as in I’m heterosexual. I’ve simply little interest in dating.” He shrugged softly, consciously lightening his posture. “…Or maybe my standards are too high.”
The attempt at a self-deprecating joke didn’t seem to land, Squalo still seemed… tense, to say the least. His eyes sagged. Tiziano grimaced, remembering how he essentially forced him out his comfort zone.
“Sorry for… the lacklustre answer.”
“No, I…” Squalo started, weakly. “I shouldn't have brought it up.”
“It’s fine, I'm sorry I made you ask again.”
There’s a tepid silence between them. Squalo’s fingers twitched, clearly expressing want to tap against the table. Tiziano likewise dared not make large movements, feeling the skin on the back of his fingers as they both stared aimlessly.
They’ve now been sitting in silence for 10 seconds.
Tiziano cleared his throat. “You were really setting yourself up for failure with that question.”
Squalo glanced over, seeing Tiziano’s expression, and his eyes softened. He laughed in response. “You can say that again.”
Tiziano smiled. The knot in his chest unwound as he chuckled. “No no, not even in hindsight. It was terrible from conception.”
Squalo glared, his reddened cheeks complimenting his blue eyes, a very charming image. Tiziano grinned. “Think about it. You couldn't have figured out my sexuality from that question even if I'd said I've had a girlfriend before.”
“No, because then I'd know if you liked women or not.”
“Well, it’s more like you’d only find out if I’ve ever dated a woman before.”
Squalo looked at him incredulously. Tiziano leaned into Squalo, breathing a silent sigh of relief when Squalo comfortably leaned in too.
“Let's say I said, ‘yes Squalo, I've had a girlfriend before.’ You say you’d know I like women, right?”
“Right.”
“Yet do you really? After all, aren’t there homosexuals who've dated the opposite sex before they figured out their preferences?”
“...Shit.”
Squalo violently cringed, slumping onto the bar table. Tiziano held back a laugh, clearing his throat. “And if I said I'd never had a girlfriend before, am I a homosexual? Or could I simply have had terrible luck with women?”
Squalo likely didn't hear the last part given he’d buried his head in his hands, groaning loudly. Tiziano exercised a beautiful amount of restraint as he held back his laughter and gave him consoling pats.
“There there. Though I don't suppose now would be a good time to bring up people who swing both ways?”
“Arrrrrrrghhhhhhhh.”
Squalo slammed his face into the bar table, drawing some attention from other patrons.
“Fucking shit, I'm such a fucking moron.”
Squalo’s voice came out muffled and monotone, his ears were blushing as he held the sides of his head. Tiziano chuckled. Who knew Squalo’s state of agony could be such an entertaining and adorable sight? Like watching a puppy throw a fit. A big puppy. He patted his back again.
“You certainly tried your hardest.”
He paused, a thought lingering on his mind.
“So… what inspired you to ask me this all of a sudden?”
Squalo shot up, and Tiziano chuckled slightly. “I don’t suppose you’re a raging homophobe seeking to weed me out?”
Squalo shook his head fiercely,
“No no, I like- I mean, I've got no problem with queers.”
“Of course.” Against Tiziano’s better judgement, he pressed. “I assume as a supporter from the sidelines?”
Squalo cleared his throat loudly, snapping to Tiziano as if he'd accused him of something. “Of fucking course?!? I'm not a goddamn- I mean, I’ve only ever slept with women before- wait, fuck-”
Tiziano raised his eyebrows. “Good to know.”
“Don’t mock me-” Squalo frowned, brows pursing, his blue eyes darting around as if looking for sanctuary. “...I’m not a fag. Is what I mean. Even if they can… date women.”
“Good to know.”
“Yeah. …I'm. …Normal.” Squalo sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut then slumping over his glass after opening them. “Just wanted to clarify.”
Silence. Nothing but the din of the bar could be heard.
“Mhm.” Tiziano barely opened his mouth to respond. Squalo said nothing. He observed Squalo quietly. He looked incredibly pathetic, arched over the bar table, face flushed and pink all over, his ponytails fraying into messy tangled clusters. It was funny how desperate he was to make sure Tiziano didn’t think of him as anything close to queer.
Well, not funny in a humorous way.
Painful, maybe. A little embarrassing too.
Tiziano felt he’d reasonably thrown him a softball and he’d responded by tearing into it and shredding the pieces all over the field. Tiziano couldn’t tell which to feel more judgmental of, Squalo’s insecure grasps at sexual conquests with women or his own twisting chest.
He honestly didn’t want to think about either.
“Well, thank you for clarifying, but you didn’t answer my original question.”
Squalo squinted lazily. “What did you ask?”
“What inspired you to want to know my… preferences in the first place.”
Squalo sighed breathily, and Tiziano could see the cogs turn in his head. “I… don't know. I mean, I’d always wondered a bit about you- no offense.”
“None taken. You’re not the first person to speculate.”
“It’s cus you’re so unabashedly… you. You’re so unafraid to be yourself that I guess part of me wondered if there was some queer- homosexual- I don’t fuckin’ know, related reason.”
“You don’t have to lie. You can say it’s because of the long hair.”
“HAH!” Squalo laughed, pointing to Tiziano with a drunken grin, “Yeah, that doesn’t help. But don’t get it twisted, today's sudden interest was less about you and more about me.”
“Everything must be, I suppose.”
“Har har. You have no idea how much my brain’s been fucked recently. I used to think everythingggg was certain, but with how much fuckin’ time we keep spending together recently, I don’t know, I’ve just been rethinking things over and over again.”
“...Rethinking… what?”
Squalo’s eyes widened.
There was a lingering, unasked question heavy in the air that neither of them wanted to touch, though it felt as if it buzzed violently in the silence and space between them.
Squalo blinked a few times, turning his gaze to the table.
“No, I… It’s not what- It’s nothing. Just forget about it.”
Tiziano watched as Squalo grimaced, biting his lip with his canine and piercing so deeply into flesh that blood came out. In shock, Tiziano grabbed Squalo’s arm.
“Squalo-”
“Let's call it a night.”
Tiziano didn’t know what to say. He saw how Squalo shook slightly, even while sitting completely still. So Tiziano smiled softly, offering comfort even as Squalo refused to look at him.
“If that’s what you want.”
Tiziano stood up, feeling more uncertain than he had his entire life. Did Squalo want him to leave? He was so used to escorting him home he didn’t know whether he should stay with the inebriated man or leave him alone.
Why not just ask? The logic of this question made Tiziano annoyed at himself. He cleared his throat.
“Would you still like me to escort you home?”
Squalo didn’t move for a second, then nodded slightly.
“...Yeah.” He slurred, “Just let me pay the bill.”
Good. Inhale. Controlled breath out. Reveal. Nothing.
_____________
The walk back was miserable.
The two of them walked beside each other, Tiziano shortening his stride to match Squalo’s. There was a solid 2 feet of space between them, neither looked at one another or even spoke a single word.
Tiziano never thought he would’ve missed having Squalo drunkenly draped on his shoulders.
Yet here he was.
Only a block away, Squalo stopped to stare out at the beach. He said nothing, just standing there, transfixed on the sound of the waves and the light of the waning moon bouncing off the rippling water. Tiziano exhaled softly. There was something so charming about the idea of a man with a shark stand who wanted to live close to the sea. Quite thematic, he supposed.
This was the perfect opportunity to let him have a moment to himself. He cleared his throat.
“Have a nice night, Squalo. Thank you for inviting me out again, I assume you’ll be fine getting home yourself-”
“Tiz.”
Tiziano snapped to attention. He didn’t like how responsive his body was to his name. Squalo turned to him. He could see his brows were furrowed, as if he was focusing deeply.
“Do you wanna…” He paused, gritting his teeth, then sighed. “Would you like to sit on the beach with me?”
Waves softly pulled into the sand, pulling back into the sea delicately, the light foam twinkling beautifully as it fades away into nothingness, just to be replaced by another soft wave. Squalo sat with his knees pulled to his chest. His face looked blank, Tiziano would assume nothing of it apart from how his brows betrayed his pensive state of mind, the intensity of its furrowing crinkling his nose slightly.
Honestly, he looked as though he was about to cry.
Tiziano was sitting with his legs crossed neatly. He didn’t love the texture of the sand against his legs and feet. And this certainly wasn’t beach appropriate wear. But he was happy, happy to be sitting beside Squalo.
Not to mention he didn’t want to leave him alone like this.
There was adequate time, while the waves whispered against the sand, to think about what Squalo had said. What he could’ve meant by “rethinking.” But Tiziano wisely didn’t think about it, not at all. His biggest concern right now was not how confusing that statement was, but whether Squalo was alright.
Though if he was being honest with himself, he knew exactly what he wanted that statement to mean. But with how distressed Squalo was right now, the interpretation felt cruel to his partner.
He looked at Squalo again. His fist was tightly clenched as he slightly unravelled himself just a bit. He took a large breath, and Tiziano prepared himself.
“Tiz… We’re… friends, right?”
“...We are?”
Squalo spun to face Tiziano, a brief second of shock on his face before he saw Tiziano’s lopsided grin. He scoffed defensively, scowling. “You-” He started, pointing accusingly at Tiziano, who smiled before catching how the other man’s lower lip trembled, desperately trying to hide behind a twitching frown. Seeming to realise how obvious his emotions were, Squalo lowered his hand onto the sand and sighed frustratedly.
“You motherfucker-” Squalo muttered, smiling halfheartedly at Tiziano, who scooted closer to him.
“Sorry, I meant for it to be a joke.”
Squalo relaxed a bit, his eyes softening. “Yeah, well, it better have been or I’ll get Clash to rip your dick off.”
Tiziano chuckled. “Yes, we’re friends. Good friends. I like you quite a bit, Squalo.”
Squalo smiled comfortably. “I do too. I mean- fuck, I meant I like you quite a bit too.”
He looked away, extending and resting his legs on the sand. He put his hands on his lap, wringing his fingers. Tiziano made sure not to lean in too close, but enough to show his support.
“Would you… Fuck.” Squalo twisted his fingers, grimacing. Tiziano eyed his hands, considering holding them in a comforting gesture before deciding against it. Tiziano could hear his heavy breathing through grit teeth. He spoke slowly, as reassuringly as he could:
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Squalo flinched as if he’d been shot. But he relaxed, lifting his head slowly, looking at Tiziano as if it was the kindest thing he’d ever heard, his eyes beginning to water- though that could very well have just been the moonlight reflecting off his eyes. He took a short breath through his nose.
“Would you… still be friends with me if I-” He bit his tongue. “Fuck. I mean, would anything change with how you think of me if there was a chance I could be…”
Tiziano could barely breathe. “...A homosexual?”
“...Yeah.”
Tiziano let out a single breath. “...Is that what you’ve been thinking about?”
Squalo nodded, then he suddenly waved his hands in front of him as if desperately dismissing the idea.
“I’m not! At least- I think I’m not- I just mean- Just hypotheficifi- Fuck-! Hypothetically!” He ran his hand down his face and chuckled bitterly. “Fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Please don’t answer that. Just forget I asked.”
As his hand fell off his chin, it shocked Tiziano to see that there was an actual tear running down his cheek. Squalo caught his gaze, feeling his own face, finding the tear, and groaned.
“Fuck, I get why you hate drunkards so much- I’m acting fucking pathetic.”
“You’re not.”
Squalo looked at him, slowly wiping away the condensation at his eyes.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Answer quickly. Answer honestly.
“Squalo, you don’t have to worry.”
Squalo’s eyes flinched, maybe in comfort, but a look of doubt lingered on his face. Tiziano took Squalo’s hand, taking great care to not squeeze it or move his hands in any way.
Deep breath in. Focus.
Focus.
“I… want you to take this to heart.” Tiziano started, keeping his voice at a gentle and level volume. “Your companionship has been one of the best things to happen in my life. Our relationship is the most precious thing in the world to me, and absolutely nothing could change how I see you.”
Squalo looked incredibly shocked at the sudden declaration of care. He coughed, stuttering as he spoke. “Huh??? Wait, y-you actually think that about our relationship- about us??”
Us.
…Focus.
“Yes.” Tiziano spoke, levelly. Calmly. “ I mean every word. Here.” He lifted Squalo’s hand, savouring how his fingers brushed against the other man’s rough skin and knobbier knuckles as he pulled them to his chest, sending the redhead into a startled state.
“Tiz-! What are you-”
Tiziano just looked him dead in the eyes. “Should there be a day that what you worry about comes to pass and I do not follow through with my promise, I give you– and Clash– full permission to rip my heart out.”
Squalo flushed. “You-” As the eye contact between them lingered, his eyes widened, blue irises now shining brilliantly in the moonlight. “You’re serious???”
“Yes. My word is my honour and if it means nothing to me, I’m worth more dead.”
Squalo stuttered, looking around, his curly hair bouncing back and forth as he looked anywhere Tiziano wasn’t. “You- I- Well, I don’t really agree, you’re pretty great at a lot of things- and I really don’t want to kill you!!! I don’t think you need to go that far-”
Tiziano blinked. Squalo was right. Maybe he’d been a bit excessive, though he meant every word of what he said. Though, maybe it wasn’t necessary to…
Slowly, his eyes lowered to his hand, still holding Squalo’s to his chest.
Right.
He let Squalo’s hand go, and Squalo’s expression was mixed. There was a pregnant pause, then Squalo laughed awkwardly.
Tiziano suddenly felt naked, laid bare in front of the other man, more than if he'd had all his clothes stripped from him and was completely nude. His impulse had gotten the better of him. How foolish. He wanted to run away, but against all muscles in his body screaming to leave he stayed in place. He cleared his throat.
“About the comment about our friendship… There's no pressure on your part, I don't expect you to feel the same-”
“Are you fucking kidding???” He grabbed Tiziano by the shoulders, surprising him. “You’re one of the best people I know- No, THE best person I know. Hell, sometimes I think to myself, ‘How am I friends with this man???’”
Tiziano’s eyes softened as Squalo continued.
“You're so smart and elegant, so clever and hardworking, so so SO intelligent and- I swear to fucking god I'm not a fag, but holy SHIT you're good looking. You’re a fucking Adonis if I’ve ever seen one, they should chisel your body into stone statues like they did with the gods-”
Squalo’s ears blushed at his own comment but his expression remained steadfast. Tiziano breathed steadily, not saying anything and making sure not to move his face at all in response.
Squalo noted this, his expression fading a bit and he cleared his throat, letting go of his shoulders.
“Ignore what I said, I got a bit- just, ignore it.”
“No no,” Tiziano said as reassuringly as he could, “it’s very sweet you think that.”
Another long, tense pause. Squalo laughed bitterly.
“Do you… think it says something about my sexuality that I think you’re good looking?”
Tiziano felt like he had his head wrapped in a plastic bag. “Not at all. There's nothing strange about a man admiring another man, especially if you’re not homosexual. You’re not a fag if you simply care for another man, and if you feel this strongly against being one, then you're probably not one.”
Squalo tensed, shrugging. “That’s a good point. I guess I… I don't know. I don't hate it that much, it's not like I hate queers or somethin’. I don’t think I am one, I just… didn't want you to… I dunno, hate me.”
Tiziano’s heart wrenched but he smiled comfortingly. “Homosexual, queer, hell, you could be a transsexual. None of that could change how I care for you.”
Squalo smiled back. “Same to you.” He blinked. “I- I'm not calling you a fag or anything.”
“I know.”
“But if you were, I wouldn't care!”
Tiziano nodded curtly. “Mhm.”
“Just trying to say that I also really care about you and- like- you're so amazing and, shit,” Squalo blabbered, his rosy face swelling with joy. “I'm just so so SO happy we'd still be friends because you’re so- AUGH!!!”
Squalo suddenly let out a loud shout, laughing brightly at the release. “GOD, it feels good to get that off my chest!!! I was so worried if I ever told you how much I cared about you, you'd call me a fag and we'd stop being friends, which I wouldn’t blame you but it woulda crushed me cus you're pretty much my closest friend ever.”
Tiziano felt his chest bloom. He held it together though. Beautifully, he’d say. He put his head on Squalo’s shoulder, grinning. “You consider me your closest friend? That’s so cute~”
Squalo groaned, looking away. “Okay well, fuck you- not if you’re gonna make fun of me.”
He then turned to Tiziano, trying to salvage his embarrassment with a grin.
“I mean, I’d certainly call you the friend who's closest to me right now, ya get what I mean?” He nudged Tiziano with his elbow.
“...No?”
“...Tiz. You’re literally laying on my shoulder right now.”
“...Ah. …It seems I am.”
He lifted his head off of Squalo.
“Sorry, it’s… uh, a force of habit. I can stop if you’d like-”
“NO-!”
The frantic yell sent a jolt down Tiziano’s spine. They both looked at each other, Tiziano wide eyed at Squalo, Squalo’s even wider as he stuttered.
“I mean-” he laughed awkwardly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want! It was just- That was actually the thing I was… uh… most worried about when I was… rethinking about… things.”
“...How do you mean?”
Squalo felt the back of his neck, laughing nervously as he tugged on his collar, chastely revealing a toned trapezius.
“So… you know how you’re always… feeling me up?”
“...”
“You know… how you’re always casually leaning on me, poking me, putting your hands or arms on my shoulders or chest or legs or-”
“YES. …Yes.” Tiziano said, clearing his throat. “...Christ. I’m a pervert.”
“No no, it’s fine! In fact I was actually worried if I told you I thought I could be a… a homo, you were going to feel weird being near me and stop doing it cus you think I’m gonna take it the wrong way and be in love with you or some shit. And I realised I’ve never minded when you did it and it’d honestly really suck if you never did it again.’
Tiziano stared at him wide eyed, feeling like he just took a one-two punch directly to the guts from the whiplash. Squalo suddenly shuffled closer and sat on his knees, grabbing a very taken-aback Tiziano by the hands, pulling them eagerly to his chest.
“Cus I really don’t mind! And since you’re not a homo and I’m not a homo or anything, it wouldn’t be weird to ask you- even though I know you hate people who use alcohol as a crutch, I can’t think of any time other than now where I have the balls to tell you this- Okay, well maybe it’s inappropriate to ask even if I’m not a homo, but…”
His words drifted off, his face turning an impressively bright red in the dim moonlight. Then as if refocusing himself, he shook his head like a dog thrashing off water, ranting to himself.
“C'mon Squalo, you can fucking do it, just ask him- CMON-!!!”
Tiziano’s heart was pounding.
Finally, Squalo held his hands gently, his face still flushing completely red but his eyes soft and almost… pleading.
“Fuck, okay. I… like it when you touch me. So if you want, could you… do it more often?”
…
…Christ.
…Say something.
Breathe. Inhale.
Don’t break eye contact with him-
Wait, no, that’s weird, just don’t think about it-
Inhale. Open your mouth, talk, find the words.
Is he blushing-? NO! Don't look at him!!
Christ, did he really just ask that?? Inhale!
Say yes! Say something!! Anything!!!
Breathe, inhale, inhale- wait-
Squalo cringed at his own words, blushing even harder and running his hand over his face, laughing.
"...Holy shit. That was the gayest thing I've ever-”
“*KAFF- HAGHK- AUCKH-*”
“TIZ!!!”
Tiziano spent the next 30 seconds coughing with Squalo frantically hitting his back and shaking him violently by the shoulders.
“TIZ!!! PLEASE DON'T DIE!!!”
“*kauff*- I'm okay, I'm okay now, please, stop shaking me-”
Squalo relaxed, his grip on Tiziano loosening a bit as he chuckled in relief, voice tinged with fear.
“Haha, my request couldn't have been that bad–”
Tiziano frantically waved his hands around, “Nononono, there was nothing wrong with your request, I just wasn't breathing. Correctly.”
Tiziano finally managed, removing loose hairs out of his face before facing Squalo with a smile.
“As for my answer: Of course Squalo.” He took his hands into his, holding them gently. “If you desire it, I will… touch you more often.”
His whole body tensed involuntarily, he straightened his back quickly and hoped Squalo wouldn't notice the reaction. He felt like his heart was going to explode out his chest with those words that didn't even feel real coming out his mouth. God, this was a weird situation to find yourself in.
Luckily, Squalo did not notice, brimming with joy and squealing softly, suddenly wrapping Tiziano in a hug. Surprised but not unhappy, Tiziano hesitantly put his arms around Squalo too. Squalo let out a shuddered breath of relief. “My fucking god,” he rasped, “I thought you were going to die- after all we just talked about, it felt like a cruel prank the universe was about to play on me, killing my best friend because I made him choke to death with a stupid question.”
Best friend.
Tiziano laughed softly. “Squalo, your worry is sweet but I don't think that was a realistic outcome.”
Ignoring his comment, Squalo held Tiziano tighter, the other man feeling his body press closer to him, laying his head on his shoulder and faintly feeling his heart beating against his own. And Squalo’s heart was pounding. He sniffled slightly.
“Please don't die, Tiz. I… I’d miss you.”
…That was really adorable. Did he really get this scared from a coughing fit? Tiziano wanted to squeeze him so hard he couldn't breathe, but notably abstained as he just held him tighter in return.
“Don’t worry about that, Squalo. I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be…”
He choked a bit, feeling his face rush, his eyes almost filling with tears from how nice it felt to be held. He took a deep breath. “I'll be here for you.”
He loathed sentimental cliches, his own words feeling sickeningly saccharine. But he truly would’ve given anything to live in this moment forever. He thought it was a feeling exaggerated by love songs and romance writers, always evoking an annoyed exhaustion from him. But as he held Squalo, whose sniffles he could hear as his body breathed softly and slowly, warmly pressed against his own, he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and fall asleep in his arms. And it seemed Squalo didn’t want to let go either. The hug went on for longer than it was socially acceptable to be- Tiziano always averaged that two seconds of silence was the maximum. But as the seconds ticked longer past 8, past 10, 12, Squalo’s grip on him was unyielding. And so he held him back, arms wrapped around the other man, content and at peace.
Well, he did want this to go on forever, but…
“Squalo…” he started, “your necklace is digging into my chest.”
Squalo pulled back slightly, watching the shark tooth necklace fall off of Tiziano’s chest, leaving a jagged imprint behind. He stared at it before smacking his lips, barely restraining his frustration.
“Fucking piece of shit-” He leaned back and grabbed the tooth, holding it up to his face, glaring at the piece of bone like it’d killed his dog. “How DARE you hurt Tiziano like this-”
Tiziano laughed. “I’m fine. It’s only an imprint.”
Squalo grumbled softly as he met Tiziano’s gaze, letting go of the necklace as it plopped onto his chest. “Still, it ruined everything… It’s supposed to be lucky and this is what it does?” Squalo perked up again just as suddenly, beaming with pride. “You know, you actually bought this for me a while ago! Do you remember?”
Tiziano tilted his head. “No, not at all.” This was a lie. He remembered vividly, the day of the week, the place he saw it, and the way it reminded him of Squalo and how he reacted when he gave it to him– a bit indignant at the obvious joke being made but also appreciative and interested in the tooth. This was actually the first time he’d seen Squalo wearing it in the 7 months since he’d given it to him, but he had decided earlier to simply not read into it.
“Yeah, that was about a few months ago now-” Squalo chuffed, “It’s been my lucky charm since!”
“Awww, and you wore it to ask about my sexuality.”
“No?!? No no no no, I wear it all the goddamn time!”
Tiziano lifted his brow. “When?”
“I…” Squalo flushed, “...At work. Sometimes on random days, but every time we’re on missions together, I wear it under my suit. I like to think it keeps us both alive.” He turned to Tiziano, beaming. “And hey! If we’re both alive, that means it's working so far!”
Tiziano felt his chest warm. He lifted his hand to Squalo’s hot, reddened cheek and gently pinched it.
“Ow, why’d you-”
“I like this version of you.” Tiziano teased, squishing his cheek. “Just the right amount of drunk. So cute and so honest.” He sighed performatively. “Nothing like the sober Squalo or the angry blackout drunk Squalo. He's rather annoying…”
Squalo furrowed his brows. “Heyyyy, watch your mouth about the other me’s. I still bite.”
“Mhm, yes you can~” He tousled Squalo’s hair like he was petting a dog, cooing mockingly as Squalo glared through slightly drunken eyes. “Good boy, Squalo, you’re so scary…”
“Fuck you too-”
Tiziano laughed, and then there was a silence between them. He was right, Squalo was drunk right now. He suddenly felt very guilty. He cleared his throat and mentally prepared himself.
“Just so you know…” Tiziano smiled reassuringly. "I won’t hold anything against you if tomorrow you want to take back anything you said tonight.”
Squalo frowned, then took Tiziano’s hand. “Are you kidding? My inhibitions may be lowered but I meant every word of it- Hell, even if I’ve opened Pandora's box and you’ll make fun of me til I keel over, I’ll open it a thousand times again just to be here with you.”
Tiziano wasn’t sure what to say to this. Squalo blinked to himself.
“Wow, that sounded really gay. I guess 6 drinks is when I become a latent homosexual.”
“I think you mean blatant.”
“Maybe! But here-” he took Tiziano’s hand and put it on his throat, surprising the very-touchy man with its intimacy.
“I promise you, on my life, I'll take all teasing to the chin! And if I take anything back, I give you and Talking Head permission to strangle me to death.”
Tiziano now understood the excessiveness of his own promise. “Squalo, you're drunk. I'm not going to do that.”
“Fine, you can strangle me NOT to death. You can put Talking Head in my mouth and make me choke on my tongue, or hell, do it yourself!”
Though Tiziano weirdly enjoyed having his hands on his throat, he narrowed his eyes. “Is this some sort of asphyxiation fetish you want me to enact? Because I will not do it for free.”
“One, no, two,” he smirked, “how much are we talking?”
“...€1000.”
Squalo’s eyes widened, then he burst out laughing, lowering Tiziano’s hands. “Well that’s that then! If I go back on what I said, you wring my neck and I pay you!”
Tiziano narrowed his eyes a bit, looking at Squalo’s goofy and warm expression. He sighed softly, unable to deny how amusing this was at least.
“Just so you’re aware, Squalo, I am disregarding everything you’ve said about this as drunken rambling. But I do appreciate the gesture.”
He stood up, reaching out his hand.
“Speaking of, it’s late. Let’s get you home.”
Squalo sighed reluctantly, and Tiziano honestly didn’t want to leave either. But they must, and so, taking his hand and pulling himself up they both started walking towards Squalo’s apartment. Hearing the waves get further and further away, there was a part of Tiziano’s heart aching as they left it behind, uncertain about their future, but happy that those events transpired between them.
Less than 5 minutes of walking brought them to the entrance of Squalo’s apartment building, the redhead sighing loudly.
“Sorry I dragged you out here so late.”
“It’s nothing. I’ve enjoyed this time tremendously.”
“Oh- me too! Fuck. I should’ve said that first.” Squalo put his hands in his pockets and shifted on his feet awkwardly. “Thanks for tonight.”
Tiziano nodded warmly. Squalo glanced around awkwardly, blushing and refusing to make eye contact before his eyes shot open and his jaw went slack.
“IT’S ALREADY 12???”
“I thought you were aware how late it was. Perhaps my next gift to you is a watch.”
“Well holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m making you walk home in the dead of night-”
“You’ve done that before.”
“Well not while I’m able to think good!?!” Squalo looked at Tiziano with nothing but concern in his eyes. “Do you wanna stay the night?”
Tiziano nearly choked on air. He looked at Squalo, face red and eyes full of worry, continuing to ramble.
“My place is a shithole but a shithole is better than getting robbed or murdered on the street. And if I’m getting in the way of anything, I’ll treat you to breakfast tomorrow! Or lunch- No, both! Anything you want!”
…Tiziano really wanted to say yes.
He’d be lying if he said the cliched connotations of that question didn’t clash violently with Squalo’s completely innocent suggestion, but his heart was warming from the thoughts of how nice it’d be to visit Squalo’s domicile, see how he lived every day.
But… the inconvenience irked him. No change of clothes, no books, no chance to work, no proper hair care with the possibility of frizzing in the morning, and a notably non-zero chance of there being mosquito-breeding waters inside. Not to mention he’d suffered enough emotional turbulence for one night. Maybe for a lifetime.
He cleared his throat. “Thank you for the concern, but I’ve been perfectly fine before. I have things to work on too.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Or… you could see me tomorrow-?”
He stopped, glancing back at Squalo, who was goofily gesturing to his door, the expression on his face dumb in the relaxed and adorable way Squalo rarely let himself be in public. It was such a stupid, idiotic and ridiculous rebuttal...
…Fuck it. He’ll live with the inconveniences.
He rolled his eyes, laughing softly. “You’re sure about potentially giving me more ammunition against you?”
The redhead nodded diligently. “Not only that but I’m willing to pay for the experience,” He smirked, “to have the courtesy of having the great Tiziano visit and insult my home. And to have breakfast with him? It’s worth the price.”
Tiziano strode up to him. He smirked. “You’re going to regret that. I'm going to bleed you dry.”
Squalo laughed. “It’ll be worth it.”
“Mhm. We’ll see what you think tomorrow.”