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Dante wasn’t quite sure how to face Vergil after thoroughly embarrassing himself with that sobbing drunken ramble of his (with added whiny guitar playing), but having gone through the exact same thing with basically everyone in his life at some point and coming out the other end every time humiliated but no worse for the wear, he decided to go with the good old “smile and joke around and pretend nothing happened.” That always worked.
Despite having drunk a considerable amount the previous night, Dante still found himself waking up before noon and unable to get back to sleep as he imagined Vergil’s reaction to the whole situation—or non-reaction.
Finally, after much mental dithering, Dante decided there was only one way out of this predicament.
He had to cook Vergil breakfast.
That would serve as an apology without actually having to have a real conversation, which frankly Dante wanted to avoid—until his grave, if possible. Dante had gotten this far in life by avoiding hard conversations while sober, and he planned to keep doing it.
So he sneaked out quietly past Vergil’s closed door to go for a quick grocery run before coming back to the Devil May Cry to get started.
Though everyone in his life might mock him for his pizza-based lifestyle, Dante wasn’t a complete incompetent in the kitchen. He could make toast and fry an egg or two. The apples he cut up turned out kind of janky, but whatever. It tasted the same, in the end.
Just according to plan, the smell of frying eggs and bacon summoned Vergil from his cave and into the kitchen. Seeing Dante at the stove with a rarely-worn kiss the cook apron around his waist, he narrowed his eyes at Dante and stared in that unblinking, snakelike way of his.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I know you’ve spent a long time in the underworld, but don’t tell me you don’t know what bacon looks like,” Dante joked as he pulled out a flipper and started dumping a gratuitous amount of bacon onto a plate for Vergil. “C’mon, c’mon.”
So that was how Dante wound up sitting opposite Vergil at his (generally unused and stacked with random demon-hunting related garbage) kitchen table, eating breakfast.
The silence was absolutely palpable.
Dante could only sit there sweating for a few moments before he broke. “So how’s the bacon?”
“...Fine.”
“Just fine? Not the absolute greatest bacon you’ve ever had in your life?”
“...It’s fine.”
More silence.
Dante made a few more aborted and pathetic attempts at conversation, which Vergil didn’t respond to. Eventually, he finished his meal—to his credit, he did say, “Thank you, Dante,” before retreating back to his room.
With Vergil gone, Dante flopped back in his seat at the kitchen table and groaned.
This was not off to a good start.
x x x
Vergil spent a lot of time wandering. It gave him time to think.
It didn’t particularly matter where he went. He would cut open a portal with the Yamato, find some absolutely remote location where nobody would bother him, and step into it. In the most remote places of earth or hell, the time seemed to pass differently, and would lose track of it—he only really noticed the passage of time when he came back and found Dante so apparently anxious that Vergil had to take him out for a fight to calm him down.
Vergil wasn’t quite sure what to do with him.
He was so much different from the Dante of his memories—where in the past, where Vergil would push, Dante would push back, now when Vergil pushed, Dante gave in. It was like he was scared of what Vergil would do, like he was treating him with kid gloves. It felt...uncomfortable. Everything he remembered of Dante was from when they were teenagers, in the end. And while it had been easy to act like teenagers for a while, the cold reality was that decades had passed, and neither of them was the same person anymore.
Vergil wasn’t the same person anymore.
Walking through one of the icier sections of the underworld, through a cave of strange stone growths and ice crystals, Vergil felt at home in a way he never did when he was at Devil May Cry. He couldn’t sleep here, either, but at least in hell he had an excuse for always keeping one eye open.
x x x
Vergil had never been terribly talkative, but these days, he was more taciturn than ever. He spent his time either in his room or away—wandering around who-knows-where, he never told Dante, and Dante didn’t ask.
What really left the Devil May Cry quiet, however, was that Vergil had stopped practicing violin.
No surprise there. Dante didn’t really expect him to keep practicing, once it was apparent just what kind of curse that instrument had. But still, now that Vergil was no longer playing violin, he seemed kind of...listless. It was hard to pin down, because Vergil normally was so stoic, you could never tell what he was thinking, but Dante couldn’t help but get that feeling.
Now that he thought of it, Vergil had kind of been like that ever since they’d returned to the human world. It had taken Dante a while to figure it out, but now he thought he knew what it was.
The Vergil in Dante’s memories was always in motion, like a shark—always driven by something, pushed forward by his (undeniably insane) goals. But what did he have now?
In the times when Vergil was gone, Dante tried plinking away on his guitar or banging on his drum set, but it just didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t scrounge up the motivation to play. It was easier to nap, or to drink.
After a solid month of watching Vergil wander in and out of the Devil May Cry, having stunted, awkward conversations and procrastinating, Dante decided on what needed to be done.
He had to get his brother a new violin.
x x x
“Hey bro! Let’s go out,” Dante said cheerily one afternoon, not telling Vergil at all where they were going. After blinking owlishly at him, Vergil surprisingly acquiesced.
Dante didn’t really know anything about violins, but he’d spent money on guitars before, so he started off by taking Vergil to a big chain music store where he sometimes bought strings, and took him into the violin room.
“I was wondering what this was about,” Vergil said as he turned around and gave Dante a look. “Are you seriously considering buying a violin? Do you know how much they cost?”
“Uhh, well,” Dante checked the price tag of the violin nearest to him. “Eight hundred dollars? Yikes.”
“Dante,” Vergil said with an absolute deadpan voice. “That’s a violin for children.”
“...Well, how about that one! Try that one out!” Dante said, pointing to a spiky, red electric violin that he thought looked rather cool. Vergil’s lip curled in an expression close to nausea.
With much pushing and prodding, Dante made Vergil try out some of the violins, even up to the ones that had price tags that would have made Morrison faint had he saw them, but Vergil turned up his nose at all of them.
“Bad sound,” he said. “The G string breaks when you apply too much pressure.” And when Dante snickered at that remark, Vergil stared at him in incomprehension. “I mean the sound cracks,” he said, as if it were an explanation.
“Do you seriously not know what a G string is, bro? ...No, never mind,” Dante said hastily, seeing Vergil’s glower.
They left the chain store to visit a more boutique luthier, but this place wasn’t much better. Vergil played a few notes on every violin there, only to walk out the door.
Not like Dante had enough money to pay for any of them. Vergil seemed to think that anything under ten thousand dollars was an absolute piece of trash, and even above that didn’t satisfy him.
“You sure have some bougie tastes, for someone who’s completely broke,” Dante commented as they walked out of the second luthier that day.
“Do you recall the violin our father had?” Vergil asked him as they walked down the street, side-by-side.
“I remember it scared me when he played,” Dante said with a scowl. “Now that I think of it, that thing was probably possessed, too.”
A nostalgic smile crossed Vergil’s face. “It sounded amazing.”
“...It was probably burnt up in the fire,” Dante said after a moment’s consideration.
“It was. I already looked.”
Dante sighed. “If ‘demonic and possessed’ is your criteria, we’re going to have a hard time finding you a violin.”
“...You don’t need to worry about that, Dante. I don’t need one. It was simply a pastime.”
Dante frowned at his brother, but he didn’t argue.
Not that day, anyway.
x x x
With the option of buying a new violin off the table, Dante decided to explore option two—uncursing the violin that Vergil already had.
“Do you know anyone who could do that?” Dante asked Trish when she came by one day.
“Hmm,” she tilted her head, considering. “I do know a witch who’s fairly good with curses, but...”
“Great! Then send her over!”
Trish got an strange, unreadable expression on her face. “I’m not sure you’re going to want to hire her.”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is she super expensive?”
“Not at all,” Trish shook her head with a grin. “But well, you’ll see.”
x x x
Dante had seen his fair share of scantily-clad women, not counting the ones in magazines. Of course there was the demonic variety, which came with clothes optional—but even his friends couldn’t really be described as modestly-dressed. So he wasn’t one to be judging someone on their attire.
But the witch who was a friend of Trish’s who showed up at the Devil May Cry was...something else.
She strode into the store wearing a black cloak, but the moment she was in the room, she threw the cloak back over her shoulders to reveal a getup that could only be described as...inappropriate outside the bedroom. With a black bondage harness on top, leather underwear and garters, she looked like she was ready for a BDSM convention, not a client.
Dante was anticipating that she bust out a whip or something, but instead, she just approached the front desk with a sweet smile and held her hand out for a handshake, which Dante returned after some hesitation, standing up from his desk.
“My name is Mystic,” she said. “I hear you have a problem with a cursed object?”
“Uhhh, yeah,” Dante managed to pull himself together. “Let me just go grab it so you can see.”
He went over to Vergil’s room for a cautious knock on the door. “Hey Verg? Can I see your violin for a moment?”
There was a moment of silence before Vergil slowly opened the door. He saw Dante standing there, and the witch behind him, and then you could just see the gears turning in his mind. He looked back and forth between the two of them and gave Dante an ice-cold look. “Why?”
“She’s a witch!” Dante said hastily, waving his hands to deny whatever it was Vergil was assuming. “I hired her to remove the curse on your violin!”
Vergil continued to look somewhat leery, then closed the door and vanished into his room again. Dante worried for a moment that he’d messed up, but soon after, Vergil came back with the violin case in his hands, stepping out of his room to bring the case to the front desk.
Laying the case on the desk, he popped the clasps and opened it up before stepping aside to let Mystic take a look.
“Ohh,” she said, a rapt expression on her face as soon as she saw the violin. “Now this is an amazing piece. May I?” she asked Vergil, who gave her the slightest of nods.
Mystic laid her hands over the instrument briefly before unhooking the bow, tightening the bow hair and picking up the violin itself. It seemed she could even play a little—she made a few experimental chords, tilting her head to listen to the sound, before getting a good look at the violin from all angles, rubbing the scroll with particular interest.
“You have a particularly fine instrument here,” she said, putting the violin back in the case and turning to face Vergil. “At least two centuries old, and deeply cursed. I can sense...” she closed one eye and pressed a hand in the spot in the middle of her brow, “the instrument is displeased about the way it’s been played recently.”
Vergil’s eyebrow twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
“So do you think it can be uncursed?” Dante asked, to which Mystic replied to him with a beaming smile.
“Of course! I’m confident that even the most cursed of items can be uncursed, with enough power. But...” she tilted her head thoughtfully again. It was a jarringly cute gesture for someone dressed like a dominatrix. “The curse in this instrument is very deeply embedded, so we’ll need a powerful ritual indeed in order to break it. I don’t think I’ll be able to do it on my own.”
“You can’t do it on your own? So what kind of help do you need?” Dante asked.
With another sweet, beaming smile, Mystic said, without any hesitation or shame, “I’ll need a virgin.”
Dante went into a coughing fit.
Vergil narrowed one eye at him. “Are you all right, brother?”
Somehow managing to recover, Dante squeaked out, “Is it normal to need a virgin for, uh, black magic rituals?”
The witch blinked at him. “For powerful sex rituals, yes.”
Dante went into another coughing fit, but Vergil seemed far less shocked. “Oh, so you’re a sex witch,” he said, as if this wasn’t anything scandalous at all.
“Of course you’re not shocked,” Dante put a hand on his forehead.
“It’s a standard branch of the black arts,” Vergil said with a deadpan look. “Is there anything to be shocked about?”
“Have you, uh, dabbled in sex magic, Vergil?” Dante asked, fearing the answer.
“...No comment.”
Suddenly, the image of Vergil engaging in some demented sex ritual with Arkham to raise Temen-ni-gru rose in Dante’s mind, and he went into another coughing fit.
“So,” Mystic gently interrupted. “I know they’re hard to find these days, but would you happen to know any willing virgins? ...For legal reasons, they have to be over the age of eighteen. If you don’t know any, I can always reach out to my contacts on incel forums...”
“Um,” Dante cleared his throat once, a threatening heat crawling up his neck. “Well, what counts as a virgin these days, anyway? It’s so complicated, aha-ha-ha...”
“You have a point that virginity is a sliding scale,” Mystic said wisely, folding her arms and nodding her head. “We’re all virgins in some capacity, and every type of virginity has its own power. But well, for the purpose of the dark arts, penetrating or being penetrated.”
“Penetration, huh?” Dante said lightly as he mimed stabbing with a sword. “I’ve sure done a lot of that! Both ways, aha-ha-ha.”
Under Mystic’s peaceful smile and Vergil’s deadpan glare, Dante’s humor-based front crumpled like paper. He slumped.
He had fought with Vergil quite a bit. Their fighting had become a little...weird, while in demon form. And Dante had had some...thoughts, in the past, thoughts that he dealt with via a healthy amount of repression. But when it came to just taking your clothes off and doing the dirty in the normal, human way?
Now Vergil was turning to Dante, both eyebrows raised all the way in incredulity. “Dante. Are you a virgin?”
Dante hung his head in shame. “Don’t say it out loud...” He was aware he was way too old to be this inexperienced. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had opportunities—women who had pursued him in his youth. He’d gotten halfway there with Trish a couple of times while drunk, but he’d always chickened out, and eventually she’d gotten fed up with him. And then after a certain point, it had become too embarrassing to fix.
Dante wasn’t human, and he knew his strength was beyond what another human could take—he wasn’t confident of his ability to hold back. He was also terrified of getting someone pregnant and creating more spawn like himself, taking his only other fellow demon off the list of potential partners.
But Mystic didn’t prod or ask any of these questions. She just gave him a big smile and said, “So you’re a virgin? Wonderful! That simplifies things so much. The older the virgin, the better, you know. So many pent-up energies are released. There’s a reason they say you become a wizard.”
Dante was ready to die all over again on hearing that, but then suddenly, Vergil cut in.
“Wait. So you’re planning to have a sex ritual with Dante? So then...you would be his partner?”
“Yes,” Mystic nodded. “That’s generally the simplest way to do the ritual...”
“I refuse,” Vergil said flatly.
“What?” Dante turned to him. “Excuse me? Is it your business who I do black magic sex rituals with?”
“You’re not going to have sex with that woman,” Vergil repeated, with no reasons or justification. He just stood there with his arms folded.
“Vergil—”
“Well,” Mystic interrupted so sweetly that Dante couldn’t eve get mad at her, “the other option is that you could have sex with him.”
“Fine,” said Vergil.
“Wait wait wait wait!” Dante waved his hands wildly. “I didn’t agree to this!”
“Why not? You want to, anyway.” Vergil said, continuing to maintain his utter deadpan expression.
“That was drunk Dante! We don’t listen to what drunk Dante says!” Dante wailed.
“Oh, really? You seemed rather sincere.”
“Anyway, never mind drunk Dante, what about you? I can’t imagine you want to have sex with your actual brother.”
“I would be willing to engage in sexual intercourse with you.”
“Please don’t say it like that.”
“Just so you know,” Mystic raised her hand slightly above her head, “Incest, like any taboo, does generate extra power.”
“...So the woman says,” Vergil said with a nod.
“This is weird,” Dante groaned. “This is completely weird. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation...”
x x x
After the witch had left, Dante collapsed against his desk with a sigh.
“What? You’re the one who wants to do this so badly. If you don’t want to, then don’t,” Vergil said, sounding a little snippier than usual.
“I’m gonna do it!” Dante was digging in now. He was going to uncurse that stupid violin, if it was the last thing he did. “But you seemed...unwilling, before.”
Vergil sneered. “I’m not interested in you when you’re drunk.”
“But you are when I’m sober?”
Vergil just stared at him for a long moment, then stared at the wall. “You are a worthy partner.”
Was that supposed to be flattering?
“I just, y’know,” Dante began awkwardly, “I always wanted my first time to be a little more romantic. This isn’t really what I imagined.”
Vergil turned to look at him, gaze evaluating. “What? Do you need roses, first?”
“Sure,” Dante laughed. “Roses and wine. Take me out on a date before we have our black magic sex ritual. We can have a walk on the beach, with pina coladas.”
x x x
Dante wasn’t expecting Vergil to take that literally.
Staring into the large bouquet of bright red roses Vergil presented to him, Dante blinked, then sneezed.
Dante couldn’t really imagine Vergil buying him a bouquet of roses as a joke, but still, this seemed so...out of character? Well, but technically, Vergil had scored with a woman, once, so he theoretically knew how to get to home base. Roses were classic. Dante had vague memories of their father having gotten their mother flowers. It was a traditional move, and Vergil was a traditional guy.
Still.
“Uh, thanks, Verg,” Dante said, accepting the flowers to place them on his desk, for lack of anywhere else to put them.
Vergil immediately followed up the flowers with a bottle of wine expensive-looking enough that Dante decided he would not swig straight out of the bottle, but instead pour it into some classy glasses to get classy drunk on.
“Come,” Vergil said after Dante put the bottle of wine aside, and baffled and quite unsure what this was all about, Dante watched as Vergil cut a hole open in space with the Yamato and stepped through it.
x x x
Vergil took him to the beach.
With the sun setting and the waves crashing against the shore, it was rather picturesque. The two of them traipsing across the sand in boots broke the romantic image a bit, though.
The beach wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t totally empty, either, and they got some stares. One particularly cheeky child approached Vergil to ask, “What character are you cosplaying, mister?” to which Vergil replied with a bloodcurdling glare that sent him scampering away and crying for his mother.
There was even a beachside bar—the two of them sat down at the bar, where Vergil ordered them “Two pina coladas.”
Dante was about ready to burst out laughing at how literally Vergil had taken his joke (but leave it to Vergil to have not listened to any music produced after he was born), but well, he was getting a free pina colada out of this, so he couldn’t complain.
Dante also assumed that Vergil wouldn’t be a fan of sweet drinks, but he drank it down in gulps while appreciatively humming. Dante made a mental note of Vergil’s sweet tooth.
“Well, thanks for taking me out, Vergil,” Dante said, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “I can’t say I was expecting this.”
“Hmm,” was all Vergil replied. Dante wondered if he was embarrassed.
They drank in silence for a while—but this silence was a lot more pleasant than their previous silences, and Dante was actually tasting his drinks instead of just throwing them back. It felt—companionable, like back when they had been wandering the underworld together.
Once he was a few drinks in and feeling his lips were a little looser, Dante asked the question that had been weighing on him for quite some time. “Do you ever think about going back to hell?”
Vergil didn’t answer immediately, picking up his third pina colada and taking a sip. “I do.”
“So—”
“But I won’t.”
“...Why? You don’t want to kill Mundus?”
Vergil had seemed reluctant to leave the underworld—Dante had thought for sure that he would want to stay and defeat Mundus. Since seeing his dreams, Dante had only become even more certain that Vergil would want to go back and kill the demon who had caused him so much suffering.
But Vergil just looked thoughtfully into the distance, then sighed. “Do you know what a power vacuum is, Dante?”
When Dante just gave him a cock of his head in response, Vergil continued, “Take the worst human rulers have ever done to each other and multiply it by a thousand, and you’ll understand a fraction of what demonic politics are like. Killing Mundus would only be the beginning. Someone has to rule hell. And I...don’t want to.”
Seeing the look on Dante’s face, Vergil got a wry smile. “Are you so shocked, brother?”
“I dunno, Urizen looked pretty comfy up there on that Qliphoth throne.”
Vergil’s smile twisted up. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to,” he said, and didn’t explain himself further.
“Our father never tried to kill Mundus,” Vergil said with a faraway look that was unfamiliar to Dante. “He simply made to keep humanity from his grasp. I think I might understand why.” He didn’t explain himself, though, simply sipping at his drink.
“And here I thought you would be all-in on petty revenge,” Dante said with a flippant grin.
Vergil snorted, and Dante took that to mean that he was still at least somewhat on the money.
Then Vergil’s eyes shifted away again. “I chose to remain here with you, Dante.”
Dante didn’t know what to say to that.
The two of them were silent for another long few moments, just sipping their drinks and watching the sun fall over the horizon.
Then, once it was dark enough that Vergil’s eyes started to flash like an animal’s in the night, Vergil muttered, so quietly that Dante could hardly hear it, “I never wanted power to actually rule anything.”
“...Huh?” Dante’s head jerked up.
But Vergil just shook his head. “Never mind. ...Let’s go home.”
That word warmed Dante’s heart more than anything else.
x x x
It was late at night. They were at the Devil May Cry, with all the blinds pulled down and the doors locked. All furniture was pushed to the side of the room.
In the middle of the room, Mystic had drawn out some complicated magical sigil, placing the violin in its case on the north end while she sat cross-legged at the south end. Dante and Vergil had already stripped, and were standing on the east and west ends of the sigil. Vergil was standing there naked like it was nothing; Dante had a towel around his waist for modesty.
“Are the participants prepared?” Mystic said, looking up at Dante and Vergil in turn.
“Are we talking emotional preparation, or anal preparation...?” Dante said with a groan, hand on his forehead.
They’d had that whole conversation beforehand. Vergil had been sitting on the couch in Devil May Cry while Dante paced back and forth anxiously.
“So uh, bro,” Dante had asked with a nervous little ahem. “Are you planning to...pitch, or catch?”
“...I don’t care for human sports.”
“I mean like...sword, or sheath?”
“One obviously needs both.”
“I’m asking if you want a dick in the ass!!”
Vergil regarded Dante for a pensive moment before answering, “...Yes, I believe I do.”
Dante just stared back at him. “...You know, you’ve done so much, uh, stabbing over the years, I kinda made assumptions.”
Vergil just shrugged. “It’s pleasurable. It would be intriguing to stab you while also being penetrated, but the witch says that too much blood would smear her magic sigils.”
Dante wasn’t sure whether he should be glad or disappointed that they weren’t going to do that. “But wait, you’re anally experienced?!” he demanded. “How? When?!” He couldn’t imagine it. No wait—he could. He could definitely imagine it. That was the problem. Nope nope nope, he was not thinking about fucking his brother right now. Put that trauma off until next week.
Vergil simply eyed him mysteriously and didn’t say anything.
That was then, and this was now.
“This is a musical instrument and all,” Dante said desperately, still looking for an out, even at the last minute. “If we need some kind of satanic ritual, can’t we just play a lot of really nasty black metal?”
“Wrong genre, for a cursed violin,” Mystic said, shaking her head. “If you wanted to use magic to exorcise it, you would need to play some absolutely vile twelve-tone music, and we might all walk away from that with blasted eardrums. It’s far easier to just have sex. ...This is why I’m a sex witch, you know. It’s frankly the shortcut to power. ...Haven’t you ever seen Bible Black?”
Dante had no idea what she was talking about; he just groaned and held his head in his hands.
“I don’t see why you’re so anxious about this, brother,” Vergil said, standing on the opposite side of the sigil with his arms folded and shlong hanging out blatantly. “You’ve impaled me with your sword plenty of times.”
“That’s different! At least then I could pretend it was just fighting!”
Mystic clapped her hands like an elementary school teacher. “Prepare for the ritual, please. Towel off, and step into the circle.”
Dante sighed and dropped the towel. The fact that the witch had to be watching the whole thing—well, that made this whole process doubly embarrassing.
Once they were in the middle of the circle, Mystic rose and stepped toward Dante. “Now traditionally, we begin with a simple stamina ritual, if I have your consent.”
“Stamina ritual?” Dante asked.
“To make sure you don’t climax too quickly,” she explained.
“Yes, he’ll need that,” Vergil said, nodding.
“Hey!”
“I’ve witnessed you achieve climax through battle alone. I have serious doubts you would get through this ritual without additional help.”
“Why is everyone here against me?” Dante groaned, but he submitted to the spell. Mystic chanted a few lines and knelt down before him to give the tip of his dick a chaste peck, and a little glow infused it.
Mystic approached Vergil with a spell for self-lubrication, but Vergil shook his head.
“Are you sure? It’s going to be rough,” Mystic said, but Vergil nodded, a dangerous look in his eye.
Finally, Mystic returned to the south point of the magic sigil where she sat down cross-legged facing the pair. “Now I will begin the chant. Once I reach the line, “Glory to the erections of the underworld,” we will begin. Try to stay in the middle, to keep from smudging the lines.”
Mystic began chanting, though it sounded less like a chant and more like bizarre audiobook erotica, with added moans. The magic sigil around them slowly began to glow like the mood lighting out of a 70’s porno.
Dante resisted the urge to cringe in on himself, with his whole forty-mumble years of virginity suddenly pressing down on him like the weight of a giant stainless steel buttplug. His eyes sneaked over to Vergil, who was looking stoically ahead like this was just another day for him.
Finally, Mystic finished her chant and said, “Now, Vergil, you may prepare Dante’s cock. Get down on your knees.”
Normally, Dante would have assumed that anyone who said that to Vergil was on a quick path to beheading, but wildly enough, after a moment of hesitation, Vergil did it.
“Now suck him off, but don’t make it too good,” Mystic ordered. “We’re not sure how much he can handle, at this point.”
“Hey!” Dante protested, “I can handle—”
Then Vergil put his mouth on his dick.
Dante couldn’t handle it.
He crumpled forward, leaning on Vergil’s shoulders as Vergil looked up at him with a smirk that said, I knew you would be easily defeated in this arena, brother. Dante’s soul was telling him to defeat Vergil, and yet his dick was saying, oh my god oh my god oh my god. He’d never felt anything like this in his life, not even that time he’d gotten drunk and jerked himself off with a piece of hot pizza wrapped around it (he’d burnt his dick slightly but it had been weirdly good. He had considered eating the slice after, but in the end, had figured that was a shade too degenerate for him. But then look at him now...).
Mystic chanted a few more lines—“divine asses and pussies united in harmony—” before her next order. “You may now commence penetration.”
Vergil rose up again before grabbing Dante by the shoulders and forcing him down to the ground—Dante was too dazed to resist. Before you know it, he was lying on his back with Vergil kneeling over him, lining up his dick with his asshole.
“Wait wait wait wait,” Dante finally managed to croak out. “Maybe we’re being a bit too hasty, here. Can we have a time out? Aha-ha-ha-ha.”
“No,” Vergil said flatly, and his eyes were saying, and now is the time for my long-awaited victory as he slammed his ass down on Dante’s cock.
There was a blinding flash of light from the magic sigil around them as power wooshed up all the way to the ceiling. “Don’t stop!” Mystic ordered them. “You must continue until both of you climax!”
Vergil rode him like a demon horse until Dante was crying as hard as he did every Tuesday after a few drinks. He jolted like he was ready to cum, but then he didn’t, and that was only the beginning.
“Pathetic,” Vergil growled, and then he clenched his ass around Dante’s cock and made him yelp. “Is this all you have to show me, brother?”
Dante groaned—hearing Vergil call him that during sex made it better, and worse.
Dante forgot all about the witch who was watching them as his hips rocked helplessly up into Vergil’s ass, barely keeping up with Vergil’s rhythm. Vergil snorted as if to say that doesn’t even receive a passing grade.
At around the time when Dante was about ready to foam at the mouth and his dick was rubbed raw, Vergil came as if taking pity on him.
“Make him eat your cum!” Mystic cried from the edge of the magic sigil. Dante’s eyes widened, but he didn’t have the time to be shocked before Vergil swiped the cum from his stomach and shoved his fingers into Dante’s mouth, making him suck.
Dante choked, then licked the salty liquid off Vergil’s fingers as Vergil continued to ride him with a less-than-subdued smirk on his face.
Finally, finally Dante was allowed to cum, and as he sobbed into Vergil’s fingers, there was another blast of light.
x x x
As Dante lay there, spent on the floor and groaning, Vergil and Mystic went over to the violin to examine it.
“Congratulations!” Mystic said with a beaming smile, as if she were announcing the birth of a new baby. “The ritual was a success. The curse has entirely been lifted.” She presented Vergil the violin with both hands.
On the floor, Dante moaned, “Was there really a point in dragging it out that long? My dick hurts...”
“Dante, we only had sex for twenty minutes,” Vergil told him dryly.
“And that cum-eating thing at the end? What was the point of that?!”
“Oh, I just said that because thought it would be hot,” Mystic admitted.
Dante rolled around and continued to moan.
“But congratulations on losing your virginity! This is a very momentous occasion! You know, we sex witches traditionally celebrate this with a party. The last one I went to, I baked a nice dick-shaped cake with vanilla icing.”
“I think I’ll skip the cake, thanks.”
“Yes, Dante. Congratulations,” Vergil said, a mocking tone in his voice that made Dante want to bury himself in the ground forever.
“Yeah thanks, let’s never do this again...”
x x x
All embarrassments aside, literally that same day, Dante heard the sound of violin coming from Vergil’s room, and breathed a sigh of relief.
There was just one problem. One eensy-weensy problem.
Dante wasn’t so sure the violin was entirely uncursed.
Since these days, he was having a lot dreams about having sex with Vergil. That was a kind of nightmare, all on his own. And since there was no way that could be coming from his own subconscious, he had to assume Vergil was sending him these kinds of dreams as some sort of petty power-play. Like, ha-ha, how pathetic, brother, how badly you want me.
Yeah, that was definitely it. No way was Dante continuing to lust after his brother. Ha-ha-ha-ha.
But anyway.
Hearing Vergil play again one evening, Dante was struck with an idea. “Hey bro,” he said one evening, knocking on Vergil’s door. “How about we jam?” he jabbed a thumb at his guitar.
He had fully been expecting Vergil to shoot him down, but after giving him a blank look, Vergil actually nodded.
So Dante turned his amp down low so he wouldn’t drown out the violin, and the two of them noodled around.
Vergil seemed unfamiliar with improvising, but this was the sort of thing any musician could pick up by feel, and eventually they found each other’s notes and made a decent harmony.
Of course, neither of them could last for long without turning it into some kind of competition. “Hey bro, betcha can’t do this,” Dante said, and when Vergil’s bow paused, he wailed out the kind of sick riff that would kill demons if you cranked the volume a little higher.
Vergil just scowled at him before banging out something fast and classical-sounding, and before long, they were engaged in a Devil Went Down to Georgia-esque musical pissing contest that went on for nearly an hour—one which Dante was confident that he had won.
“Now I’m one up,” Dante said proudly, after they’d finally put their instruments down.
“No, we’re even,” Vergil said scowl.
Wait. By that math—he’s counting—
And then his hand whizzed out toward Dante—
Dante was kind of expecting a stab through the chest, but what happened was Vergil grabbed him by the lapels and yanked their mouths together, crushing Dante’s lips there for a moment before dropping him ungraciously.
“And now I’m one up,” Vergil said with a smug grin.