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No Matter What They Say	By : Demonized Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, nor do I make any money off of this work.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 12
- 13
Vergil refrains from responding, instead giving Dante a slight smirk, and follows after him. The bathroom is huge, at least it seems so from Vergil's perspective as a seven-year-old, with a sizable clawfoot tub taking up nearly a third of the space. It is exceedingly, and unnecessarily, lavish for a child's bathroom and Vergil longs for the cramped quarters of the flat that he had shared with Dante before things had all gone to hell for them a second time.
"Christ, this place was always a bit much, wasn't it?" Dante asks as he makes his way over to the tub, looking around the bathroom like it's the very first time he's ever seen it.
"It was," Vergil agrees as he sets down the clean clothes for them on an empty shelf just inside of the doorway. "It still is."
"Yeah, it still is," Dante echoes then starts removing his clothes. He leaves them in pile by the tub, saying nothing about the shredded seat of his pants, and reaches for the knobs to turn the water on. The pipes rattle slightly and then seconds later icy cold water gushes out of the faucet.
"It'll take a few minutes for the water to heat up," Vergil comments as he watches Dante stick his hand under the torrent of water from his peripheral.
"It never took that long back when we had our own place," Dante mutters almost sullenly and he pulls his hand out from under the water.
"Oh, it did take that long, Dante, I was just able to keep you better occupied back then." Vergil quite likes the blush that steals across Dante's face while Dante no doubt recalls just how he had been kept occupied. Things that they won't get to do for some time. "If there's one thing that I hate the most about this whole mess then it's that I can't fully act on my instincts the way that I want to when it comes to you."
"Why can't you?" Dante asks sincerely, his tail perking up with interest as he turns his entire focus onto Vergil.
"We're physically seven-years-old, for one," Vergil answers a little dryly and he starts removing his own clothes. "Though my instincts don't seem to care about that fact one iota because I want nothing more than to ravage you and lay proper claim to you right now." Because when Vergil looks at Dante he doesn't see Dante as a child but as his mate, pure and unclaimed. Vergil wants to attribute this to their mental age, their actual age, but it goes beyond just that with his instincts being involved. Maybe it would have been different if Vergil hadn't forced his demonic blood to awaken in this body so early—Vergil has doubts even about that—but there's no definitive way to be sure and they can't force their blood back into dormancy. "And while father, as a demon, might not care about whether we have sex or not I am certain that mother would want us to wait until we are of age."
Dante doesn't say anything right away, instead he's watching Vergil in a way that suggests that even his instincts are telling him something along the same lines. For a few seconds Dante sways where he's standing before he gives a shake of his head. "And when will that be?"
"When we are sixteen." Vergil feels as disappointed as Dante looks with his answer, his brother's tail drooping while his wings, which had been folded and drawn up to his sides, drop down so that the tips are touching the floor.
"That's nine years away!" Dante protests sullenly and with a bit of a whine.
"I know and I don't like it either but there's nothing we can do about it, Dante, except to wait those years out." Vergil gathers up his slightly worn clothes and adds them to the pile that Dante made as he joins Dante by the tub. The water is just starting to get warm when Vergil checks on the temperature of it himself and will take a couple more minutes to get hot enough. "Not because some human law said so but for mother's sake."
Dante considers that for a few seconds then gives a dejected sigh. "You're right."
"I don't want to be," Vergil states forcefully as he stoppers the drain to let the tub fill up. "I don't want for us to have to wait so long but I-"
"I get it," Dante interrupts with a faint smile. "I don't want to upset mom either but being stuck as a kid kinda sucks."
"Well, if I knew a spell or something that would make us age faster then I'd use it, anyone else's feelings on the matter and all of the consequences be damned," Vergil grits out and his tail lashes slightly.
"Maybe dad knows of something that could do that," Dante suggests as he moves closer to Vergil. Their wings end up touching, lightly pressing together between their sides, and the sensation from that is decidedly nice.
A sense of calm washes over Vergil and he finds himself leaning into Dante as he contemplates the possibility of their father knowing a spell or a solution that could make them age faster. The idea has merit given that Sparda is well over two thousand years old and it wouldn't hurt to, at the very least, ask. "We can ask him after breakfast."
"And I can ask him for Rebellion too while we're at it," Dante adds a bit thoughtfully.
"I doubt you'll need to ask father for Rebellion. He did say that he wanted to assess our skills today and I doubt that's changed just because we're partially triggered." If anything it is even more of a reason to take stock of what they are both capable of and to start training as soon as possible. Not only to prepare for the inevitable attack on their home but so that they can better adapt to their new forms. There shouldn't be a need for them to have to adapt to their partial trigger state but Dante's initial trouble with his tail suggests otherwise.
"You better not hold back on me if we get to spar," Dante asserts and Vergil's budding concern over Dante potentially hurting himself vanishes.
"Then you better not hold back on me either," Vergil counters as he lets the water for just a few more seconds, until the tub is just under half full, then turns it off. "Go ahead and get in,"Vergil instructs as he steps away from Dante's side to go over to the sink.
Dante hesitates, his gaze following Vergil, and his tail quivers slightly before curling along the inside of his right leg. "What about you?"
"I'm just getting the soap," Vergil answers casually as he picks up a bar of soap, unscented, from the count and holds it up for Dante to see.
"Oh." The relief in Dante's voice is palpable and he even looks a little sheepish as Vergil returns to his side with the soap in hand.
"Just get in before the water gets cold," Vergil instructs, deciding against chastising Dante for whatever it was he had thought Vergil had intended. It will take time to fully restore Dante's trust in him and so Vergil expects that there will be more moments like these where Dante might doubt him. Vergil can't fault Dante for that one bit. "I know how much you hate it when the water gets cold."
"Yeah, well, that's something I had to get over because there wasn't enough money for the rent and the utilities," Dante all but grumbles bitterly as he climbs into the tub.
"And why was that?" It makes no sense because Dante should have had access to what was left of the family fortune—a truly sizable amount that would have allowed for Dante to live quite comfortably for a very long time without needing to work at all and without even being able to put a dent in the overall wealth.
"Because demon hunting didn't always pay the bills," Dante answers quietly and ducks his head to avoid meeting Vergil's gaze. "And after Temen-ni-gru I was in a very bad frame of mind and I did a bunch of stupid shit so that I could try and forget you."
- 12
- 13
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No Matter What They Say