When Angels Scream and Devils Cry | By : Demonized Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 1140 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, nor do I make any money off of this work. |
Time has a capricious nature in the Underworld, the concept and meaning of it lost upon the demonic hordes that rise up against them. There is no point in trying to keep track of it when it can run backward, slow to a crawl, stop completely, and loop back in on itself from one breath to the next. They merely adjust, for that is what they have always done with each situation they are thrown into. They adjust until they are no longer able to. Thankfully their capabilities are limitless in comparison to the time of their youth, though Vergil's methods are far more questionable than Dante's, and so there is nothing that can even come close to stopping them.
Dante doesn't bother to bring up Vergil's follies, once has already been more than enough for the both of them, and Vergil is somewhat grateful for his silence on the matter. As much as Vergil doesn't deserve it he is far more grateful for Dante's companionship in what they both know Vergil had intended to be a one-way trip to fix one of his gravest sins. There had been no deterring Dante from coming with, not that Vergil had put any sort of effort in trying to keep Dante from joining him. Vergil is certain, to a degree, that there is more to his decision than he had initially stated, as keeping an eye on Vergil's personage is the flimsiest of excuses. He can press for the truth if he so desires but he is content to let the matter be.
As the fighting starts to lull, the rank and file demons grotesquely painting the ground with their blood and decaying flesh, Vergil takes stock in their surroundings. The ruined Qliphoth has become a hazy fixture on the horizon behind them, and there is nothing else for as far as the eye can see in every other direction. Vergil feels the weight of Dante's gaze on his back, an increasingly frequent occurrence that he has noticed but never gives any thought to as they wander the Underworld aimlessly. Vergil does wonder what goes through Dante's head at times, and now he is curious as to what he can possibly be thinking about as he stares at him in silence.
It becomes something of a game, one that Vergil hadn't realized he is participating in until he catches himself risking glances at Dante in the heat of battle not even moments after that instance. Dante's movements have become seamless as he shifts between a myriad of styles and weaponry that he has accrued over the years, absolutely none of it wasted. Vergil can almost liken it to a dance that only Dante knows the steps to, and the more he watches him the more his pulse quickens.
Vergil's inattention is punished with a deep score to his side, which isn't a problem for his innate regenerative abilities to take care of, but it is embarrassing to be injured all the same. Vergil doesn't even have to look back towards Dante to know that he's aware of his injury, his gaze flashing to Vergil for a brief second as he scents his blood on the air. Vergil expects him to make a jab towards his skills, as has been customary between them when one of them slips up, but Dante goes against that very grain as he hacks his way through the demons to reach Vergil's side. He fights like a man possessed, fiery red ethereal swords trailing behind him and cutting down every other demon that is not directly in his path.
"You're hurt." Dante's voice is half-distorted, as though he is on the verge of Triggering, and ladened with genuine concern. Uncharacteristic worry etches lines into his face that almost seems years younger than Vergil has last observed, but he brushes that off as something trivial in comparison to the fact that Dante is openly worrying over him.
"I'll be fine." Vergil internally winces at how chilly his voice sounds, and for a second Dante hesitates, something else rather uncharacteristic of him. "I let my focus slip." Vergil's confession comes out in a much softer tone, surprising not only himself but Dante as well, if his expression is anything to go by, with Vergil's sudden willingness to admit to a moment of weakness. "I will be fine, Dante," Vergil asserts as he turns away from Dante, taking care to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Dante's gaze weighs on his back far heavier than before, making Vergil feel like a coward for trying to avoid him and his concern, but he doesn't press the issue any further.
Another wave of demons falls upon them quickly enough, and like before Vergil finds his gaze drawn back to Dante's form. He is more mindful of this growing habit, so as to not sustain another injury, and watches Dante expertly carve through swathes of demons. There is an undeniable beauty in the way he moves, effortlessly twisting out of the way of an incoming attack and then following it up with a precise slash that is often enough to finish off nearly everything that has risen against them. For one brief second, Dante's gaze meets Vergil's and it is right then that he makes the connection. Vergil wants his brother in a way that is taboo among humans.
Dante can't be picking up on that, can he? It isn't impossible, but it is unlikely given that Dante isn't incredibly observant. Or maybe Vergil is not giving Dante enough credit when it comes to paying attention. Vergil's own attention has slipped enough, the blood staining his side and coat verifiable proof to that extent. Still, that doesn't tell him if Dante is even willing to give something like that consideration when even Vergil knows that he's only ever shown interest in women. Vergil has to gauge his willingness without raising his suspicion, a momentous task in and of itself without any outside interference…unless he can use the fighting to his advantage.
Vergil hesitates to do anything at the first opportunity presented to him as they pass by one another with just a hairsbreadth of space between them. Dante doesn't seem to notice, but as more opportunities come and go without Vergil doing anything he suspects that Dante's aware that something is going on. Vergil's suspicions are confirmed when Dante looks at him directly at what is the twelfth time they move by each other. His expression is maddeningly unreadable to Vergil, but that instance is where he finally falters while Dante simply continues onwards. It is almost enough to earn Vergil another injury, but before the blow can be delivered the near-faceless demon is impaled by one of Dante's summoned swords.
Dante makes quick work of the remaining demons and Vergil feels…ashamed that he has let himself become so careless. All in the pursuit of something that may very well be beyond his reach. It is foolish of him to even entertain the notion when he should simply be content with Dante's presence.
"Something is clearly eating at you, Vergil, so let's just cut past the bullshit and start with what has you so damned distracted." Dante's tone is as brusque as the words coming out of his mouth and he gives Vergil's bloodied side an incredibly pointed look. His gaze quickly slides up to Vergil's and his chest tightens uncomfortably at the seriousness and concern he finds there. "And don't you dare tell me you're fine because that and that tells me you aren't fine." He points accusingly at Vergil's side and then at the demon that he had slain before it could inflict a wound on him.
Vergil freezes up immediately, having wanted to avoid being so direct with his intentions when he doesn't even know if Dante is at least receptive towards the idea. Unmistakeable fear claws through him. Fear of rejection. Fear of Dante using this against him. Fear of Dante turning against him. Fear of Dante pitying him. Vergil can live with rejection so long as that is the only outcome but between the rest… Vergil is wholly incapable of handling any of those situations. It will simply be too much.
"Verge?" Dante's tone is considerably softer when Vergil doesn't immediately respond and he starts to approach him with a faint frown.
"I can't." Vergil's voice is a strained whisper, but Dante hears it clearly and pauses mid-step, his brows knitting together. Vergil arbitrarily notes that he looks impossibly younger, almost at the age when they had clashed at Temen-ni-gru, but it is a trivial observation to make in this moment.
"Can't? Can't what, Verge?" Dante finishes the step forwards and watches Vergil carefully as he takes another, while panic bubbles up inside of Vergil. It must be as clear as day on Vergil's face because he pauses again and raises both hands in a gesture meant to show that he isn't a threat. "Hey, bro, whatever it is, you can tell me. We can work through it together."
Vergil wants to believe him, he wants it so badly, but his fear is so utterly paralyzing. Irrationally so. "Dante, I…" Vergil's tongue fails him where it never has before, and he can feel his hands shake ever so slightly. If Dante notices then he doesn't give any indication and instead takes another step towards Vergil. There are now a total of four steps between them. Four too little.
"Vergil…" Dante's tone is pleading as he presses for the answer Vergil desperately does not want to give. "You're my brother, so you know that whatever it is that's eating away at you probably won't bother me. We all have had our issues, but we're good now. I don't see anything that can mess that up."
A sliver of hope blossoms just enough for Vergil to swallow down his fear. "I want you." The words feel heavy on his tongue, but he says them before he can change his mind.
Dante blinks a few times, brows furrowing as he processes Vergil's statement then gives him a look of confusion. "I'm right…oh." He blinks again as he seems to come to the conclusion of precisely what Vergil means and then a grin steals over his face.
Vergil's hope crumbles immediately and before Dante has the chance to respond in one of the ways he had feared that Dante would, he bolts. The shift to his Sin Trigger is instantaneous as he desperately runs away from Dante, but he cannot outrun the shame he feels. Dante gives chase in his own Sin Trigger form and knowing that they are evenly matched Vergil pushes himself to keep ahead of Dante. As if to spite him, Dante catches up almost effortlessly and sends them both crashing to the ground with an aerial tackle.
Dante surprisingly takes the full brunt of the impact, his wings wrapped around both of them as they tear a long furrow through the hard-packed Underworld earth. Before they can even come to a complete stop Vergil tries to break free, but Dante's hold on him is unyielding. "Vergil, stop!"
Vergil goes completely slack in Dante's grasp at the sharp command, his heart in his throat at the realization that there is simply no escaping him. Dante has him at his absolute mercy and the knowledge of Vergil's desire for him to use against him. He reverts back to his human form and screws his eyes shut to wait for the inevitable.
"I'm sorry. If I had known you were gonna react like this I would have just kissed you instead." There's no dishonesty in Dante's words, his distorted voice surprisingly gentle as he sits up. His wings unfurl from around them, though he winces in pain with their movement, and his arms loosen around Vergil.
There is a faint odor of blood, his blood, and then it vanishes as he drops out of his Sin Trigger.
Vergil opens his eyes and carefully twists in the loose embrace Dante has him me to face him. They're almost nose to nose, with Vergil awkwardly half-laying on him, and Dante leans in to brush his lips against Vergil's. The kiss is soft and tentative, Dante's gaze earnest as he stares into Vergil's eyes. It takes Vergil a few seconds to respond, his hands clutching at the edges of Dante's jacket as he presses into the kiss hungrily. He doesn't have a clue as to what he's doing, his experience with such intimacies woefully lacking, but Dante doesn't seem to care at all.
After a minute Dante breaks off the kiss and tilts his head just enough for their foreheads to touch. "Just in case you need to hear me say it, Verge, I want you too." With that declaration, he angles his mouth for Vergil's and shifts his arms up to loop them around his neck. Something wet and warm presses against Vergil's lips, and as he parts them he realizes that it is Dante / tongue, but there is something more. Rich and smokey sweet liquid fills his mouth without any warning.
Vergil knows this taste from a lifetime ago, and it is unmistakably Dante's blood. Swallowing it down with a moan, his hands tighten on Dante's jacket briefly and then snap up to frame his jaws. Vergil fervently takes control of the kiss, his tongue forcefully delving into Dante's mouth as he greedily searches out every last drop of that succulent substance. Dante yields to him with a stifled groan, a flicker of surprise in his gaze at the sudden shift in Vergil's demeanor followed by an intense satisfaction.
A sudden curiosity strikes Vergil and he presses the side of his tongue into the razor-sharp point of one of Dante's canines. Dante's reaction to his blood is so different, so utterly docile as he swallows the fluid and whimpers softly into Vergil's mouth while his eyes close. Vergil breaks off the kiss once his tongue has healed and pulls back to watch Dante intently.
"Oh fuck," Dante pants out, a dark pink dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose while he opens his eyes and stares back at Vergil. His scent spikes with desire and he tightens his arms around Vergil's neck as he shifts under his weight just enough to get a leg wrapped around Vergil's waist. "Vergil." The name comes out of his mouth with a faint whine and a roll of his hips against Vergil's.
Before Vergil can accommodate Dante, his senses prickle as he picks up the presence of more demons heading their way. He bites down a growl at the interruption and quickly wraps his arms around Dante before springing to his feet. Dante clings to him even after they're both standing, mouth twisting into an irritated scowl as he turns his head to look around, having picked up on the encroaching hordes as well. They won't find peace here, that much is clear, so Vergil wordlessly draws Yamato and slices through the fabric of reality with the intent of taking Dante someplace safe. His thoughts instinctively turn towards home as he creates the portal, and as soon as it's open he tugs Dante through it.
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