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There's a sword inside Dante's back. It fills the cavity it created in his flesh, blood spilling from the wound and his panting mouth. His chin is painted with blood and drool.
Above him, his thirty-eight year old self watches him with creased eyes and enigmatic smile as he pushes the blade deeper. Dante groans, pressing his cheek into the floor. With his pants open, his hot cock is trapped against the ground. He can feel it leaking, sticky on his stomach and upper thighs.
"Shh," his other self croons, trailing his fingers up his hip. "Just take it easy."
Like Dante, he's still fully clothed. He's kneeling above him, legs lightly squeezing Dante's sides. The hard bulge in his pants presses against Dante's lower back as he leans into him. Dante's nails drag against the floor as he claws at it, tasting nothing but copper. "P…lea…se.."
"Man, you are tightly wound." His older self moves his hand to Dante's neck, digging into the tense muscle. Dante makes a strangled sound, his eyes filling with tears. His breath is loud and ragged in the quiet room.
Then the door slams. There's a sharp intake of breath.
"What— what are you doing?!"
For a blank moment, he thinks he hallucinated it. Until Lady snaps, "Get off him!"
Oh, God, shit. "L–Lady," Dante manages. Oh no. No, no.
She can't know. She can't. Not like this.
She'll freak out, she'll look at him with shock and disgust. He'll lose her because of his grotesque, inhuman desires. He shouldn't have given in just because his other self knew and approached him for this very reason.
His older self laughs. "It's alright, Lady. He likes it."
Lady snarls at him like he's another evil demon she's going to kill, gun raised. "He's crying!"
"He likes it," the older Dante repeats. "Look." And he grips Dante and drags him upright onto his knees, pulling him back with an arm across his abdomen.
"Aagh—" The sword is pushed fully into Dante's back, all the way to the hilt, the blade sticking out of his chest. He chokes on another mouthful of blood that pours down his chin, splattering across his torso and lap. His entire body jerks— it, it hurts, it hurts, it— "Aah— a-ah—!" His cock spills white on his thighs. He's still painfully hard. He's panting, tears making tracks down his face.
Lady stares, wide-eyed.
"See? If he wanted to get out of this, he would. Right, Dante?" The other self gently brushes his thumb over Dante's jaw. "But he doesn't. Because he needs some relief from the pain inside him." He leans in and kisses the back of Dante's ear. "I remember being that way."
Dante closes his eyes. Then why are you doing this? Why would you drive her away? Why couldn't you have just left me on the floor?
He's so tired. He doesn't want to watch Lady leave.
He hears her throat click as she swallows.
"Is that true, Dante?"
Is it so wrong…?
Of course it is.
"Yeah." His voice is hoarse and wet.
"Oh," she whispers.
She's going to leave him.
The older self trails his hand up Dante's abdomen to his chest, running his fingers around the wound where the sword protrudes. Gently, humming softly like he's soothing him, his other hand gripping Dante's jaw, he sinks his finger into the gash.
Dante jolts, mouth falling open, eyes flying open. "Ah–a-agh!" His whole body throbs, hot, needy. Lady is seeing this. She's seeing the blood dribble out— Why?! Why would you do this?! "D-don't look," he begs.
She stares at him for a second longer before the words seem to register, and then she stumbles away, her back hitting the door behind her. "I—I should—"
"You don't have to go," the other Dante says casually, adding another finger into the wound, holding Dante steady as he practically gags for it. "He doesn't really want you to leave. But it's your choice. What do you think, Lady? Wanna stay? Wanna watch him come like this?"
Lady mutely stares at him for a moment before her gaze drops to the mess that is Dante. Her breathing is shallow, her hand clenching at her side. "...Seriously? Is that really okay?"
Dante's breath stutters.
"Answer her, Dante," his other self coaxes. "Tell her how you feel. Doesn't she make you feel safe? Don't you want her to protect you?"
Of course he does. But he doesn't…he doesn't deserve that. It's selfish to even want anyone near him.
"Dante, tell the truth," Lady says, forthright as ever. "Do you want me here?"
"Y…yes," Dante manages. "Yeah. Yes."
He can only admit that because it's not his choice. It's hers. Since the moment they met, she of all people has known what's right and wrong. And what's before her now is truly unsightly.
But she doesn't go. Without looking, Lady locks the door behind her.
"That's settled, then," older Dante says amicably, and pushes his four fingers down inside Dante's open body, plunging into blood and flesh.
"Ghaah—! Aaahhhh!"
Dante can't— he can't think, wet gasps leaving his mouth, all he can do is cry, words rough and grating as he begs, "Please! Ah, please, please, nngh, aagh—!"
"Yeah. That's it." The older self's other hand falls from Dante's jaw to wrap around his cock, squeezing. Dante's chest heaves with heavy, panting gasps as the intense pain and pleasure approach a breaking point.
Lady's never, ever, ever seen Dante like this. She can see how close he is. How desperate.
"Come on, Dante. Come— hahh." The other Dante grinds against his younger self, calloused fingers slick with blood and pre-come as they pump Dante's cock.
Lady's mouth is dry as she swallows. She can't take her eyes off what's happening in front of her. It's disturbing and macabre, and a kind of horror mixes with the burgeoning wet heat between her thighs.
The older Dante shoves his four fingers all the way into Dante's gash, down to the knuckles, hitting bone.
The noise from Dante is guttural, sobbing and gagging on blood and agony and pleasure as his orgasm hits him so hard it feels like getting stabbed again. It feels like dying.
For a moment, there's nothing except that. Just that. It's so horrible and so wonderful.
When his older self pulls out the fingers from his wound, he collapses against him. The older Dante touches his face with the bloody hand that had been inside his chest and turns his head. He kisses him then, languid and gentle.
Lady can't help but wonder how it came to this. How something that could classify as torture is the thing that can, for the moment, ease Dante's suffering. Or whatever this is doing for him.
"Let's get this out of you," the other Dante murmurs, gripping the hilt of the sword. Smoothly, he pulls it free, keeping his other hand on Dante's back. Dante doesn't even make a sound this time, but that's not unusual for him. It's normally not physical pain that makes him lose his composure.
The thirty-eight year old Dante gathers his thirty-two year old self in his arms and kisses him again, softly, before resting his cheek on Dante's head. His hand strokes Dante's back like he's comforting him. He seems content to just hold him now, as if he didn't just commit what Lady is pretty sure counts as some sort of atrocity.
She hasn't overlooked what he said. That Dante wanted her to protect him. If she'd known, she would've stayed more often.
Dante shifts, placing a hand on his older self's chest and pushing him onto his back. The other Dante looks surprised from his new position on the floor. Dante grips his thighs, lifting and spreading them.
"Don't tell me you're still not satisfied," his older self says with a startled laugh.
Dante's eyes trail down to the bulge still trapped in his other self's pants. "Not me."
Older Dante reaches up and wipes his thumb over Dante's damp cheek. "You should just relax. I ain't looking for reciprocation."
"I want to. Let me…let me give it to you."
His older self's eyes crease with his smile. "Well, shit. Who am I to say no to that?"
So he makes sounds like that too, is what Lady thinks, sitting cross-legged on the bed as she listens to the breathless, punched-out gasps.
"Hahh, ah, fuck, Dante—" The older Dante's hands claw at the sheets— literally, inhuman nails ripping the fabric. His legs are thrown over his younger self's shoulders, heels digging into his back, impressively flexible for a man who's almost forty. But then, Lady's not exactly sure what the standards are for half devils.
Outside the hot arousal under her skin, there's also a sentimental fondness. It's kind of nice that no matter how much Dante changes, some things will stay the same.
She cups the other Dante's pec with her hand and brushes her thumb over his nipple. He practically whines. "Lady…"
"Dante," she responds, mouth quirking up as she flicks it.
"Ah! Hey! You…you look too relaxed," he accuses, with a pout that she absolutely doesn't think is cute at all.
“I'm not the one getting railed here."
"If you—" Dante's older self tightens his legs around Dante's shoulders, back arching and hand flying up to grab Lady's as Dante fucks into him, hard and deep. "—if you—nnghh, hah, ah…if you want…a t-turn…"
"No, thanks. Give poor Dante a break, look at him." Lady reaches up with her free hand and wipes away the sweat on Dante's brow. Dante leans into her touch, eyes briefly closing.
You weren't this cute when we first met, Lady thinks, mouth twitching up.
The older Dante clenches her hand. "Then…then, you can…use me."
"Use you?" she repeats. "How? I doubt it'd be very comfortable to ride you while Dante's still fucking you."
She can see the shiver that runs through him at the words, the way his eyes go a little unfocused. Apparently he likes that idea, but he doesn't try to convince her.
"My mouth. You can finally sh—" He chokes on a cry as Dante grips his hips and lifts them. "—Shu—! Shut me up!"
It seems he doesn't know that she actually thinks he's too quiet. But apparently the Dante she knows will get chattier in a few years, so maybe she should take this chance.
“How can I say no to that?” she says, stretching out her legs and pulling off her shorts and panties. She unbuttons her shirt as well, but decides to leave it on, since she doesn't feel like being the only one in the room who's fully naked. Then she leans over Dante, pressing one hand on the bed beside his face, her other hand cupping her breast. “Why don't you suck on this for me first?”
He complies, and pleasure jolts through her nipple straight to her pussy. It's nice when a man knows when to sass her and when to obey.
She shudders as her cunt gets even more wet, finally pulling away. “Alright. Tap out if you start to suffocate.”
“Sounds like my kind of fun,” he says as her Dante pauses to help her manoeuvre over his older version until she's kneeling above his face.
She snorts. “If you say so.” Then she lowers herself onto his mouth, letting her full weight rest on him, knowing he can take it.
His hands grip her thighs as his tongue comes out, dragging across her clit.
It's been so long since she got head that it's already making her tremble. And when he drives his tongue into her fully, it almost feels too deep.
“Holy shit, Dante,” she gasps. She can feel his smile against her damp flesh. He starts off slow, and then begins fucking his tongue into her, hitting precisely that point that makes pleasure ignite in her core.
Doesn't he know too much about how she likes it? In this older Dante's time, did they….?
Her questions about the future fall away for the moment as she grinds down on Dante's face, groaning. She's never felt someone's tongue fill her like this. Is that another part of his ‘special’ physiology?
Her Dante's slow pace, letting them all adjust to Lady's position, picks up. His thrusts become steady and hard, and the thought of how deeply his cock is hitting his older self's insides makes Lady even more wet. She must be dripping in his mouth. He's stopped for a moment, shivering underneath her and panting against her throbbing cunt.
“You're taking us so well,” Lady says under her breath.
Dante's hands convulse, fingers digging into her thighs. His tongue returns to fucking her, relentless, until she's gushing on it. He starts shaking a minute later, his come painting the back of her thighs.
Did he come just like that, without any stimulation to his cock? Just Lady's Dante inside him, and her in his mouth?
Cute, she thinks, staring down at his flushed face, looking half ruined.
Her Dante pulls out of his older self and leaves to grab a towel. He uses it to silently and gently wipe them off.
Then he climbs back into bed and lays between them, with his back pressed to his older self's chest and his arm around Lady. He's still hard, but he doesn't seem to want to come again. Not right now, at least.
What a wild day, she thinks, stroking her thumb over his shoulder. His body is a little too warm, but she doesn't mind. To think that she'd see something even more strange than an older version of Dante. He's just full of surprises.
She drifts off in the afterglow. When she surfaces a few hours later, she feels surprisingly refreshed. Maybe she had also been a bit pent up. Although obviously not as much as Dante was.
She kisses his collarbone, and he sighs quietly, stirring. He'd been through a lot today. Maybe she should order them all some pizza…
“Nng…” Dante shudders as his older self presses against his back. The other Dante presses his smiling lips to his younger self's neck, one hand caressing over his side, fingers digging into his hips.
Lady meets his glinting eyes. Then she looks at her Dante's face, almost dazed and already beginning to softly pant.
Pizza can wait, she decides, smartly opting not to say so aloud to these two.