Work Text:
Doing dishes. Doing something normal and human. It's strange, to be so domestic, to do things that everyone does. It takes Vergil's attention, gives him something to focus on aside from the plans that he's got in the back of his mind, of the man with the shifting scars who had propositioned him. If he can do this simple task for Dante, he can pretend for a little bit longer that he can have this, that they can stay together. As long as he has something around Dante's little apartment to do, he can imagine that this is all there is.
He doesn't notice it, then, when Dante sneaks up behind him, his hands, so blessedly warm, sneaking under the worn fabric of Vergil's sleeping shirt. It was Dante's shirt, really, but he didn't have any of his own so he wore his brother's. He chuckled, watching the letters for some band he'd never heard of shift, become unreadable as Dante's hands slid over his skin.
It felt good. So good. Even though they'd been together for a few weeks, falling into a rhythm that Vergil had never imagined having with anyone, it still sent a shudder over Vergil's flesh. He hissed and held his breath as Dante explored, fingertips tracing muscle. He stayed still, feeling the urge to lean into the touch and run at the same time, as Dante slowly cupped his pectorals, massaging them beneath gray and yellow.
He curses himself, mentally, for allowing Dante to sneak up on him. He has become slow and comfortable, doesn't pay attention to the instincts that he'd survived on for the past nine years. But here, he doesn't have to be alert at all times. Here, he could sleep fitfully and not worry about demons coming for him. Here, he could rest in Dante's arms and be soft, gentle, more human than he'd ever allowed himself to be. He feels safe. Dante keeps him safe.
His eyes sting for a moment at that thought. He'd wanted nothing more than to be with Dante for so long and now, here he is.
And he's wanted.
Dante's chin on his shoulder, his hands gently working, his cheek against Vergil's own.
"Put that down and play with me bro?" Dante asks and its so quiet and gentle that Vergil can't deny him.
He turns and is backed up against the counter as Dante pulls his shirt up and catching his pecs again, tongue on one nipple, twirling it in his mouth. Dante moans as he sucks on him and he rolls his hips, just enough for Vergil to feel how hard he is in his pants. So hard, and for Vergil, for the man he's become.
Dante's lips are pink and plush, a mix of lip gloss and biting and they pull from Vergil's nipple for him to catch his twins lips, hands brushing from Vergil's chest to his shoulders and then down to his hands. He intertwines them, holding Vergil steady. Every spot that Dante lingers on buzzes and tingles, as if there's magic in his touch alone, and Vergil shudders. He wants more of it. He wants all of Dante.
Dante grins at him and there's a peace in his chest that he's never known. When Dante tugs on his hands he follows so readily. At this moment, he would follow Dante anywhere. Anywhere, in this case, is Dante's bed. He allows himself to be pushed back onto it and as Dante climbs onto him he rolls his own hips, a parody of Dante's earlier ministration, making it hard for Dante to keep his balance. Dante just huffs and pushes Vergil down, pushes his hands to the headboard and holds his wrists with one hand. His other hand is there to help him maneuver Vergil's chest, to pull on his nipples, guide them to his hungry mouth. It feels so good, the light buzz of pain in the center of his nipple as Dante plays with the nub, sucks one into his mouth and then the other. It sends a shiver down to Vergil's clit, makes it bounce with interest in his pants. Dante's giving him so much attention, licking and rubbing and thrusting, gently, his cock making ripples in the novelty pajama bottoms they both wear.
Vergil can't believe it, how much he loves this, how it makes his head fall back as he moans at the ceiling, at how much he wants Dante. He thought the dishes were a good distraction but now he's completely forgotten them. All he can think about is the heat of Dante's breath, how good it feels to have his brother's skin on him, how good Dante looks, shirtless and flushed, sucking on him as if he's expecting some reward for his actions.
He has all of Dante's attention. He can't imagine anything better than this.
His back arches and he's practically thrusting his nipples, turning bright, shiny, and puffy, into Dante's face. He can't control his mouth, he's making these noises that sound pathetic in his own ears. They're all these broken whines and whimpers, so much need in him. He's a mess and he knows it, sweat making his skin shine, and his hair is a loose halo around his head.
He cries out, clenching on nothing, when Dante bites into his nipple and, from the mischievous smirk on Dante's face, he was expecting something, scales instead of human flesh, Vergil to fight instead of accept.
Vergil wouldn't fight, not this, not when it feels so good. The pain and the pleasure wrap into each other and leave him floating in a bliss, a cloud of cheap sheets and the scent of cheaper shampoo a paradise he could spend the rest of his eternity.
"So soft," Dante moans, rubbing his cheek against Vergil's breast, "Yet, so firm."
A cheesy line, annoying but also so perfectly Dante.
He raises one leg, presses his thigh against Dante's groin to make him gasp. He uses it for leverage, pulls him up to Vergil's mouth. He needs a kiss, needs his brother, and from the way Dante is staring at his snarl he's certain that Dante needs the same thing.
"I'll show you how soft I can be," Vergil growls, threatening and hot.
It doesn't get the reaction that he wanted. Dante releases his wrists to take both of his nipples and pinch them hard enough to make sparks of pleasure dance up his nerves. It makes Vergil gasp and, once his mouth is open, Dante plunges in, lips pressed against Vergil's his tongue sliding in deep.
The kiss is deep and frantic, Dante taking and taking and licking, making Vergil chase after the angles, try to push back, but he is beneath Dante in all ways.
He moans further, the sound muffled, into Dante's mouth as he continues to massage and caress Vergil's pectorals. He knew that Dante's were sensitive but he never thought his own would be so responsive. Then again, he's never been so pleasured by someone with such an obsession with his chest. He never had such a reason to get so filthy over a bit of nipple play, but now he can feel his pussy drip, soaking through his briefs, making him feel slimy and open and hot.
He rubs his thigh against Dante's crotch, listening to the little huffs and whimpers, feeling the way he is panting. He wants more, needs it, needs Dante in ways that frighten him.
His hands make their way to Dante's hair and he pulls him ever closer, desiring him, devouring him. He takes control of the kiss with his teeth, digging into that thin lip, tasting the sweet artificial strawberry that Dante had been glossed with.
"Please, Vergil, please," Dante pleads the first moment he could, his voice broken by the pleasure of Vergil's leg, high pitched and breathy with need. A need that Vergil could fulfill. A power that he could have that he never thought he could grasp. "Can I fuck your chest? Please? I'll make it so good for you."
Vergil rears back to see the desperation in Dante's eyes.
"Please," whispers now, fervent, a prayer.
Vergil has it, has control, has strength, has everything that he needed. He tugs on Dante's hair, making him hiss and his hips buck, Dante chasing his own pleasure. After the way Vergil's chest had reacted to Dante's actions, he very much wants more of that, but he knows that he can't just give it, not yet. Dante has to earn it. He could make Dante earn it and Dante would thank him for it. Never had he thought that a possibility.
"Make me cum first and I will consider it."
Dante pulls away and Vergil regrets it, regrets the cold on his skin. He wants Dante back there, wants to see his pleasure close up. He's going to get more though, he's going to feel Dante's body inside of him, that cock he's always been curious about in the dark corners of his mind, the parts that he hid before, pretended didn't exist. Now they were in the light.
He pulls down his borrowed pajama bottoms and his briefs in one go, the smell of his natural musk springing up between them. Dante's eyes flickers over Vergil's body, from his flushed cheekbones to his sensitive nipples, over his lean stomach, and then settling on Vergil's wet cunt. It's a soft pink, the lips of it fat and an artist's dream, framed in an almost glowing frame of white hair.
Vergil slides his fingers down through his labia and opens them, showing Dante the sweet hole that he needs him in. Dante licks his lips, his hand on his cock, squeezing so tightly that Vergil worries that he is about to cum already. Dante never looked so pleased, so joyous, so appreciative.
He helps Vergil the rest of the way out of his clothes and then his arms wrap around Vergil's strong thighs, using them to support him as he pulls himself in. Vergil is about to question him, still dressed, in the wrong position, but then Dante makes his desires known.
He swipes the flat of his tongue from the hole and up Vergil's cunt. At his clit he flexes his tongue so that it has an almost chiseled tip for him to rub around the mound and over it, dig into the folds of flesh as if it were a foreskin. He hums at Vergil's taste, his eyes rolling back in his head. Vergil releases his labia to allow Dante to take full responsibility as he brings his tongue back down and penetrates Vergil with it. He fucks him with a few thrusts before coming back up and wrapping his lips around the little pearl of Vergil's cock and sucks on it, cheeks going hollow.
Vergil moans, throwing his head back. It feels so good. Dante feels so good. There is a sharp pang of jealousy in him, for Dante had to learn this from someone else, but it is easily drowned out by Dante's humming, the pleasure of giving pleasure. He wants to make himself worthy of Vergil. He succeeds.
It's so good. It's blinding. It's amazing. Vergil's back arches as he looses that control he'd just gained, though it was control over his own body, not over Dante. His hands wrap in the sheets, digging and clawing, blue scales shining through his skin on another tight suck. He humps Dante's face, feeling his brother lap at his entrance and groan and pull himself deeper, nose buried in Vergil's pubis. He isn't going to last much longer.
Dante's hips barely shuffle against the mattress and his back muscles clench as he fights to rule over his own body. It's clear that he is enjoying this and that he wants more, that he is enraptured. He has to be careful, for there is an ecstasy rolling through his spine. He needs Vergil, needs his touch, needs him to take over for him. Vergil would and wouldn't. He's already doing too much. But he would spoil his little brother for he loved him so.
"Come now, my darling, my soul," Vergil moans, amazed at his own conscious word choice, he would have thought he'd lost that, so close to climax, "I know you can do better than that. Don't you want to be embraced by the warmth of my chest? I thought you would do anything for it?"
He did. Vergil can feel it, both in the way that it drives Dante harder, making him pay more attention to his clit, and in how he presses three fingers to Vergil's pussy. It's disgusting, how easily all of them slid in. He is so aroused that he doesn't even need to be stretched. His body would take whatever Dante wanted to give it. He is open and pliant for his twin. Dante presses against his pubic muscle and searches for something, though Vergil knows not what.
He knows when Dante finds it though, the ridges a few inches inside of him that he'd never bothered to explore himself. Dante bends his fingers into them and Vergil yowls. The rhythm that Dante beats into the backside of his internal clitoris is frantic and it has Vergil clenching and writhing. He lifts his hips to compensate for the wild pleasure that forces him to a symphony of moans and cries. He puts himself in the perfect angle for Dante to suck his clit. It is so much. He is losing himself. The sheets aren't enough, he needs to hold something more, something that could ground him.
Dante's other hand snakes over his muscles and it was when he pinches one of Vergil's swollen nipples, tugging on it, that he crests.
He opens his mouth as if to scream but he doesn't know if any sound comes out. He can't hear, not with his vision whited out. He cums, squirming, and the pressure is like thunder and thunder almost always comes with rain. He ejaculates, for the first time in his life, a flushing through his body as the pressure he hadn't realized had grown emptying, expelling itself on Dante's face, mostly in his mouth but splattering onto his cheeks and chin.
He goes boneless and Dante pulls him down to the bed, lets him rest, chest heaving, as his spirit returns to his body. He's only experienced one thing this intense and there was no pleasure there, no love. It was not something to think of in a time such as this. He focuses on his breathing, on the speed of his heart, on the way Dante still looks hungry, even as he licks the spend off his face where he can reach it.
He folds down and, clutching his cock again, he drags his tongue up Vergil's thrumming stomach, the muscles tensing and releasing in the aftershocks.
"Please Vergil?"
Vergil's lip trembles. His mouth is dry. He doesn't trust himself to speak, not quite yet. He nods.
Dante is like a housecat, most of the time, and here he's no different. He glides up Vergil's body, smooth and elegant, stretching himself. At some point during Dante's feasting, he had lost his own bottoms, and his cock is a hot red thing jutting out from his pelvis. He's so hard that his foreskin had pulled back and the head dribbles precum, laid heavy with blood. He straddles Vergil's chest and his cock sits on him like a fat and thick limb.
Vergil wants it inside of him, in his mouth. He wants all of Dante. Wants him everywhere.
His hands are human as they came up, quaking, and he grabs his pecs and push, making them cradle Dante's aching erection.
It's not much, he doesn't have a lot in terms of breasts, but they made a tight little nest for the underside of Dante's dick.
Dante moves slowly, rutting against Vergil's chest, and the way he moans, the way his face and chest turn red, Vergil can tell that he's close, had been close for a while. It wouldn't take much for him to cum. So good at pleasuring others but either no stamina or control over himself. It was cute. Dante bit his lip and stares, eyes watery and needy, as he thrusts against Vergil's skin.
The sounds that Dante makes, Vergil wants to know what he's saying but it isn't all words, it's a concoction of Vergil's name, of needs, moans, and whimpers. He looks like he's falling apart, meat sliding off the bone if Vergil were to touch him just right.
Vergil pants as he touches his nipples, so big now, erect and tingling. He rubs them gently, so much less sensation that when Dante had been sucking on them, but it feels so good still. He was wrapped in Dante and Dante was wrapped in him and it's just his chest but it feels so good, he thinks he might lose himself and, if it was to Dante, like this, he would be fine losing.
"Can I?" Dante stammers, both with his words and with his hips, "Can I cum on your face?"
Vergil doesn't answer. He can't. He doesn't dare speak for fear of breaking this moment, saying something stupid. Instead, he lifts his head as much as he can and opens his mouth. His tongue lolls out, inviting his brother to give him everything that he has. The look feels silly but it must be a good choice because Dante mewls so beautifully and cums. Hot and thick streams of white splatter over Vergil's face, only a few lines hitting the target of his tongue. It's a mess and it's amazing, disgusting and everywhere, but the heat of it is pleasant and he feels like he was art smeared with the spattering of paint, as if Dante can make him into a masterpiece.
He slowly opens his eyes, feeling his eyelashes tacked together on one eye, to see Dante staring at him, panting, enraptured. He's shaking with orgasm, hips still stuttering, and a moment of fear flashes in his eyes.
"I'm so-" he starts to apologize, for the mess, for not following orders, Vergil's not sure. He is sure though that it is unfounded. The words die in his mouth though when he watches Vergil swallow the cum, bitter from too much pepperoni in Dante's diet but it tastes like him too, the small dregs of his still cocooned demon giving his cum a little kick of ash, sulfur, and iron. He licks his lips and catches more of it, swallowing it down. It was so Dante. It was so perfect.
"Aren't you going to clean this mess?"
Dante stares, lost. "Wh-"
"Kiss me," Vergil orders, hands on Dante's thighs to calm him. "Give that tongue of yours a good use."
Dante's lips are soft, almost chaste, nervous, more so now than at any other point of their coitus. It's not enough. Vergil wants him. Vergil wants him to want him. He wants Dante to feel no shame with him. He wants Dante. He wants to be loved. He can't think of anything else, just having Dante. He buries his hand in Dante's hair and kisses him, hard. A small moan escapes him as Dante settles on his chest, groins finally meeting but only to gently kiss while their mouths are a mess of one another. Vergil bites and sucks on Dante's lips, as if he can suck up the adoration in his mouth.
Still, he's the first to break the kiss, to caress Dante's face, putting their foreheads together. "My sweet, foolish brother," he breathes, he feels like he's the foolish one. There's so much need in him, so many things he thought he was better without. And now he can't contain them. He's got to admit to them all. "In times like this, it seems like you tear my heart from my chest but it doesn't matter. My heart has always been yours to take."
Dante freezes and its Vergil's turn to feel like he's said something wrong, done something that's too much. He thought that Dante felt the same or that he would, at least, accept Vergil's confession. He'd been holding it for so long. He's always wanted Dante. Even in the mirror, not knowing if Dante was alive, his hair down and framing his face, taking himself in hand, he'd wondered if Dante would look like his mirror, if he'd touch him, if he'd ever feel like this. He never thought he'd get here. He worries that he'll never get here again.
Dante takes Vergil's hand off his cheek and lays it on his chest, letting Vergil feel how Dante's own heart is pounding, so fast, so in time with his own. It's as if they are in synch, all the way through. He leans down and kisses Vergil's closed eye, carefully removing the cum that glues it closed. He's so gentle, so caring, so many of the things that Vergil has denied himself to be. It all felt so foreign to him.
"I made a mess of you." Its an excuse, an out, but Vergil has already dived off the deep end.
"You always have," Vergil corrects and he interlaces their fingers on Dante's pectoral. He won't take an out. He won't make excuses. he won't think about the terrible future and how he's going to lose all of this. "Make another."
Dante giggles, a sound that fills Vergil with warmth. "Insatiable dumbass."
Vergil smirks and curls up, rubbing his pussy against Dante's half hard cock. He's been called worse. "Insufferable brat."
Another kiss, just lingering and wrapping up in each other, tasting one another, and they roll, Vergil laying upon Dante, as their hands explore. There is no time here, there is no responsibility, there is just them in this instance, two halves making a whole, like it was always meant to be.