#the mandatory arco (skull) shenanigans you know me lol

[hopeswriting]

EVENT: KHR Rare Pair Week 2022

PROMPT: Day 2 - Bodyguard AU

PAIRING: Skull/Arcobaleno

SUMMARY:

As he makes it more and more famous in the stunt industry, people inexplicably start targeting Skull’s life. Naturally, his manager hires bodyguards to keep him safe.

Seven of them, just to be safe rather than sorry.

RATING: G

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

TAG WARNING: Mild Swearing

WORD COUNT: 3325

LINKS: Ao3 & Ff.net

[Plain text:

EVENT: KHR Rare Pair Week 2022

PROMPT: Day 2 - Bodyguards AU

PAIRING: Skull/Arcobaleno

SUMMARY:

As he makes it more and more famous in the stunt industry, people inexplicably start targeting Skull’s life. Naturally, his manager hires bodyguards to keep him safe.

Seven of them, just to be safe rather than sorry.

RATING: G

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

TAG WARNING: Mild Swearing

WORD COUNT: 3325

LINKS: Ao3 & Ff.net /End PT]

*

Skull opens the door to the meeting room, smoothing his grumpy face for a more professionally unwilling and disapproving one, his manager and his two perfectly capable bodyguards following in his steps. The seven people already sat at one side of the long table turn their eyes on them, and the blond one whistles loud and drawled out, unmistakably appreciative, looking him up and down.

Dead silence falls in the room, Skull and his team pausing in their steps. Blondie widens his eyes, slapping his hand against his mouth, his golden, tan skin taking on an increasing red tint. One of the two women at either side of him lets out a brief burst of laughter, then slaps her hand against her mouth too to muffle it. Some of the others snicker more discreetly than hers, while the rest of them simply smile, more or less wide and mocking.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Blondie says, "that was so inappropriate. I don't know what came over me, but please, don't let it affect your decision or reflect on my teammates. I swear it won't happen again—shut up," he grits through his teeth in a low hiss at his colleague, but she just turns her head and leans it against the shoulder of her colleague at her other side, still laughing as quietly as she can in her fist, her shoulders shaking. Blondie turns back to him, his face decidedly red now. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Skull says, trying to restrain his smile for his sake, and maybe now feeling a little less unwilling about this whole meeting thing, and what about it? He didn't even try for it, wearing a plain all black outfit—hoodie, pants and snickers—, though he still did his hair and makeup. "Thanks."

Blondie groans, hiding his face in his hands as he leans his elbows on the table. Next to him his colleague has yet to stop laughing, sounding like she's choking on her laughter now, but none of her colleagues seem worried about it, so Skull doesn't either.

He makes for the other side of the table, flicking his eyes over them. They all look very professional in their black suits, each wearing a dress shirt of a different color under their jackets. One of them wears an indigo cowl matching with their dress shirt, the hood up and low enough it hides their eyes, an upside down purple triangle tattooed on their cheeks. Another one wears an Asian suit from the look of it, a Chinese one he'd guess, while he thinks he glimpses a fedora on the lap of the one with a yellow dress shirt.

Their suits look very expensive too, and very pretty, which he can't help but notice because he has two functioning, seeing eyes, and it's a bit hard to keep his eyes up and not to stare.

He takes a seat across the woman next to Blondie, the one not still currently laughing, sitting in the middle of them—or almost in the middle, seeing as they add to an odd number. His manager takes the seat next to him, while his bodyguards stand behind them.

The woman has a little orange tattoo under her left eye looking like a flower, and from up close, the other one next to Blondie has what looks like a burnt scar curling around her right eye and down her cheekbone, and just now is making herself stop laughing.

"Good afternoon, sir," the woman with the flower tattoo says, sliding a stack of business cards over to him past the file in front of her. "My name's Luce, nice to meet you."

"Yeah, good afternoon. Nice to meet you too, but you can all just call me Skull." He flips the cards one after another, catching the different names on it. He catches the names of different agencies too, raising his eyebrow at it.

"Please, excuse our colleague's…" she glances at Blondie, still hiding his face in his hands "...uncharacteristic behavior."

"He meant no offense," the man at her other side says, the one with the fedora on his lap. He sits like a king in his chair, his legs crossed at the knees, somehow managing to smirk professionally. He has the blackest eyes Skull's ever seen, seemingly seeing right through him, cute, curly sideburns at either side of his face. "On the contrary, clearly."

Blondie groans loudly, abruptly leaning back against his chair, still hiding his face in his hands. "Just kill me now."

His colleagues laugh at him again, and he forcefully ruffles his hair, not dislodging at all the bandanna holding his hair away from his eyes. He crosses his arms on his chest then, his face still red, and he's clearly not looking at him.

"It's fine," Skull says again, biting his lip to restrain his grin, but he doubts it's doing much. "None taken. Surely you already knew how I look like, though?" he can't help but ask.

"Of course we did our homework in the case you should decide to hire us," Cute Curly Sideburns says smoothly, his voice syrupy sweet, "but I have to admit too that none of the pictures I've seen of you do you any justice face to face." He very pointedly looks him up and down then, but somehow still makes it look like a casual, absentminded look when he catches his eye again.

Skull gaps, and does not feel himself blushing.

Oh, oh, that little—that—that devious man!

What the hell, what even was that? That wasn't very professional now, was it?

Was that even legal? Or was it a marketing strategy, seducing his employers-to-be to make sure they do end up as his employers? Not that he did anything much, or would ever need—no, not the point, Skull, focus.

Oh, this is so not fair.

"I'm Reborn," he says, just as Skull remembers to close his mouth and is about to look away, and he just knows Reborn chose his timing on purpose to force him to keep his eyes on him. He offers his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Skull."

"Me too," Skull says, shaking his hand, totally not blushing no matter what Reborn's smirk is telling him.

Next to Reborn, the one with the cowl huffs, sounding like they're rolling their eyes under their hood. "Viper."

"Fon," the man next to them says, bowing his head slightly, a smile on his lips.

The woman next to Blondie nods. "Lal."

"Verde," the man next to her says, green hair just as bright as his purple hair.

"Colonnello," Blondie says last, and apparently put himself back together enough he can look him in the eye now. He even offers his hand for a handshake, big and cold and calloused, and his own shivers a little at the contact.

Skull gives them all a brief, polite smile. "Nice to meet you all." He clears his throat. "So. Seven of you?" he asks, almost rolling his eyes.

Really, his manager is just too much sometimes. The hell is he supposed to do with seven bodyguards? The hell are they all supposed to individually do with him when there's seven of them?

"Your manager let us understand it's a necessary measure," Luce says.

Skull turns a deadpan, pointed look at his manager, who splutters in his hurry to justify himself. "It is! Do you even realize how many people tried to kill you by now? The lengths they've gone to in their attempts to kill you? I can't even begin to imagine why you'd be targeted with so much prejudice, but do I need to remind you the—

"Okay, yeah, fine," Skull cuts him off, frowning a little, because, yeah, it is starting to get a little out of hands. Who is he, the queen of England? "But seven of them? How are they even—" he whispers, then glances at them before looking back at him. He lowers his voice another notch. "Where are they even—"

"Of course we won't all be with you at all times," Luce is quick to reassure him. "We'll work in smaller teams so to cover all your bases, though one of them will have to constantly stay with you, keeping you safe and getting you safely wherever you'll need to go."

Skull scoffs, and he didn't really mean to, but, yeah, no. "No, thanks. I can get myself wherever I need to just fine all by myself, thank you very much."

Verde scoffs, glancing up at his bodyguards before looking back at him. "And they just let you?" he asks, clearly distasteful and judging.

"Yes," Skull stresses pointedly before his two perfectly capable bodyguards can voice their offense should they feel the need to. "On my demand. And I am the one ultimately calling the shots, am I not?"

"I can think of ten ways off the top of my head I could kill you by messing with your personal vehicles," Viper says.

Skull stubbornly crosses his arms on his chest. "Yeah, well, I can think of twenty ways off the top of my head I could live through your ten ways of messing with my personal vehicles, and still get wherever I was going to with them."

"In the case of a car chase—" Verde tries again, but Skull scoffs again, loud and disbelieving, almost bursting out laughing.

"I thought you all did your homework already?" he taunts.

He expects Verde to react negatively at that, but he smiles instead, looking amused. He looks a bit condescending too, like he's looking at a kid overestimating his abilities when Skull meant every word, thank you very much, but it is quite the nice smile on his lips.

At the corner of his eye Colonnello and Lal are grinning too, pleasantly surprised as far as he can tell, while Reborn's low chuckles tingles his skin down his spine, and is it suddenly hot in the room or what?

He shouldn't have put on a hoodie.

"Skull," his manager starts, displeasure clear in his voice.

"It's fine," Fon cuts him off, his voice placating. "There's no need to fight among us about this matter. Whichever personal vehicle you use, there'll always be at least one place for more, yes?" he asks, but it's a rhetorical question. "One of us can always take a ride with you. Would you be okay with that, Skull?"

Skull has still plenty to say on the matter, but good lord, does Fon have arms if he's ever seen ones. And muscles hugged just right by his suit.

Skull isn't even religious, but he's really going to need a divine intervention to stop being distracted by the sight in front of him.

What do they even look so pretty for anyway? Can people even look that pretty? Do people that pretty even exist?

He knows he exists, obviously, but that's different and not the point, and he's still staring at Fon's arms, isn't he? Fuck, move your eyes upwards, you hopeless simp—

"Wonderful," Luce says, taking his silence for an agreement. And what did he just say? A divine intervention, at the very least. "Glad we've gotten at least this one issue out of the way. Anything else you'd like clarifications on?"

"Yes," he says, wrenching his eyes away from Fon, trying to hold on his dignity and ignore the knowing looks they're all giving him. Like Skull hasn't caught them staring too. "What about my current bodyguards? They were there first, and I'm perfectly satisfied with them."

"Of course they can stay," Lal says, her arms crossed on her chest, all business-like all of a sudden, not that she wasn't already before. "If the level of threat you're under right now is to be believed, we definitely could use the extra hands to keep you, your team, and anyone you'll be working with safe, as they're likely to be targeted too to get to you. Or you can send them on paid vacation until we're done doing our job, as it's only meant to be a temporary measure until we've dealt with the threats on your life."

"On that note," Colonnello says, a serious look on his face too, "anything else you can tell us about that? About whom or why? Anything would help."

His manager and him exchange a glance.

His manager shakes his head. "Like I've already said," he starts, sounding apologetic, "I really have no idea why this is happening. And if Skull knows, he didn't see fit to tell me about it."

"Dude!" Skull blurts out, equally amused and incredulous. "Way to throw me under the bus, what the hell? You're supposed to be on my side here."

His manager purses his lips. "This is really not a joke, Skull. Your life literally depends on it, so please, take this seriously."

"Do you know something?" Luce asks.

Skull almost rolls his eyes, but he knows his manager means well and only has his well-being in mind, which he's grateful for. He shrugs. "I don't know," he lies. "Maybe some really obsessed fans? Or some jealous haters? I'm becoming really famous by now."

He does have a guess, because they're all weirdly committed to this, and actually only try to kill him after Skull turned down their weird recruiting thing for God knows what. But no one else has to suspect it, let alone know for sure about his very literal immortality, which he can only assume is what it's all about.

"Strongly doubt it," his manager says. "We're a far cry from the usual stalker behavior or kidnapping attempts, and even from the attempted murders by knives or guns."

"There's nothing usual about me, that's why."

That gets a little laugh out of all of them, even Luce, seemingly despite herself. It drops her business facade for a second, but then she catches herself, bringing a graceful hand to cover her mouth. Her eyes remain crinkled at the corner and full of mirth though, and she steals his breath away just a little.

She clears her throat. "I see. In any case, ultimately the why doesn't matter, so there's nothing for you to worry about. We'll still thoroughly deal with all of them, and make sure no one else even thinks about trying ever again." Skull raises his eyebrow, then exchanges a glance with his manager. That was foreboding. "Anything else you'd like to know? Something about us or our services, maybe?"

"I don't want your services," Skull says, pouting, maybe now being difficult just for the sake of being difficult.

But also totally not, because how is he supposed to keep himself together with them as his bodyguards? With them as his bodyguards looking like that? Do they expect him to be and remain professional about it? Do they expect him to draw a hard line about them not being anything but professional with him should they feel otherwise?

Yeah, right. Because that totally sounds like him alright.

Oh, yeah, he'd also have to make sure they don't learn about his immortality, which is hard enough with two bodyguards, let alone seven.

"Skull," his manager hisses in his ear. "Just make an effort, will you? Do you even realize just how expensive this meeting alone is?"

Oh, right. "What are even your prices?" Luce smiles, and then says a frankly outrageous number, and Skull should be given a medal for not bursting out laughing. He can't possibly have heard that right. Who are they, the kings and queens of England? "Come again?" he asks, his disbelief thick in his voice.

Luce laughs indulgently, while the others smile, some even chuckling. "We're the best of the best in the field, that's why. None of the people we've ever protected got even if only a scratch on them, let alone died under our protection, so please, trust me when I say we're worth the investment."

"No, please," Skull says, still wondering if he should bow or get on his knees or something. "Do tell me your prices again so I'm sure I've heard you right."

"We have a deal," his manager cuts in.

Skull gives him a look, opening his mouth, but he gives him a look, and he closes it again. He huffs, slumping in his chair. It's totally not like Skull is the boss of him or anything.

Luce claps her hands together. "Wonderful! Thank you for your trust. Here." She slides her file to him. "Those are our contracts. You can get back to us tomorrow at the latest, so please, take your time reading them."

"Thank you very much," his manager says, taking the file while standing. Luce stands too, and Skull does the same because he's not that rude. "Thank you for having us."

"It was our pleasure," she says, offering her hand to his manager, then to him. "I'm looking forwards to this partnership."

Skull gives her a polite smile, taking her hand in his.

Luce pulls him forwards as glass shatters, his manager yelping in surprise and falling back on his chair, Colonnello seemingly having tripped him under the table. Skull catches himself on the table with his free arm, something wheezing above his head then crashing against the wall.

His bodyguards hurriedly move, cursing, taking out their guns and switching the safety off. One stand next to him, turned to the door, the other next to his manager, turned to the window, both shielding them from—from what?

"Sirs, are you alright?" one of them asks.

"They're fine," Luce answers for them when they both miss a beat.

What the hell just happened?

No, that's not it. He knows what just happened, because God knows it annoyingly happens too often by now, but how did she know? How did they apparently all know for that matter?

Skull cautiously straightens himself, leaning his hand on the table. There's a bullet hole in the window, and a frankly worrying, big impact on the wall opposite where the bullet landed, without first going through his manager's or his skull, lucky them.

He looks at Luce, who looks like nothing happened, entirely nonplussed.

"I'm sorry for the abrupt save," she says, briefly grazing her fingertips down the arm he used to catch himself. "You are fine, aren't you?"

Skull is distracted from answering her by the others standing, all of them looking nonplussed, and straight up happy, even, smiling excitedly.

Colonnello, Reborn and Lal take out their gun, switch the safety off, and Skull didn't know the motion and ensuing, resounding click of it could look and sound so hot, but goddamn, did it ever.

"Dibs," Colonnello says.

Reborn clicks his tongue, catching his eye.

"Oh, shut up, the both of you," Lal cuts him off before he can even say anything, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure there'll be enough of them for each of us to have a piece of the cake."

They exchange a glance, baring their teeth more than grinning at each other, and wow, Skull's so bi and is so fucking happy he is.

"Aren't the windows bulletproof?" Verde asks, walking to the window, while Fon and Viper walk to the door.

"It was," Luce says. "Until they obviously found the right bullets."

"Or maybe you're just becoming sloppy," Viper taunts, making Fon laugh.

Luce just rolls her eyes, then catches his eye. "Shall we?"

Skull blinks back to reality. Right. He straightens fully and away from the table, glancing down—and oh, right, he's still holding Luce's hand, isn't he? He should probably let go of it. He clears his throat, not letting go of it, but Luce doesn't let go of his hand either, so. "Sure," he says, smiling, and this time means it. This is going to be an absolute disaster, but who is Skull to suddenly start making responsible, reasonable decisions? "After you."

*

I’ll simply never have enough of Skull simping after the Arcos (and the Arcos simping after him right back). And no, it’s not me projecting onto him, I don’t know what you’re talking about at all.

Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

[Plain text: “I’ll simply never have enough of Skull simping after the Arcos (and the Arcos simping after him right back). And no, it’s not me projecting onto him, I don’t know what you’re talking about at all.

Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!” in bold. /End PT]