Chapter Text
Dante has plenty of time to think while they're dropping into hell. It’s been a heck of a month. A few months counting before he was thrown outta that damn tree by Urizen. Above all, Vergil’s back. He’s a monster for feeling giddy, but his brother’s voice, his brother’s moves, his brother’s smell, his brother- his brother- his broth- his bro- at the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands, not counting the bullshit he pulled years ago on Temen-ni-gru. Had Dante honestly thought Vergil had died after falling to hell? Nah. But it’s been so many years. He’s got a fuck ton of burning questions, but they’re just gonna have to wait.
“That’s one ugly ass tree. Can’t believe you birthed it.”
“I did not birth it.” Vergil rolls his same blue eyes that Dante has, frowning with his beady upper lip and pouty lower lip. “I nurtured it.”
“Potato tomato.”
“It’s potato- nevermind. Your juvenile antics and low intelligence never cease to amaze me.”
“Aww, you think I'm amazing?” They cut their way through hordes of monsters, heading towards the base of the Qliphoth. Small fry, getting in the way of their bonding.
“Dante.” Vergil snarls his name.
“That’s my name, baby, you could never wear it out.” They cross swords, just as much as they kill devils.
“You are insufferable.”
“Nah, just say you missed me.” Dante laughs, tearing up the ground with Cavaliere.
Vergil says nothing. In fact, he gives Dante the silent treatment all the way until the Qliphoth finally falls. That’s done, but Hell’s devils aren’t. Pouring out of the cracks, drawn by Sparda’s blood.
“They make it seem like we’re public enemy number one.” Dante complains, his usually greasy hair is soaked in blood and other unmentionable fluids.
“We are. Father locked them in this hellscape. Leaving them to prey on each other.”
“Come on, you’re not even gonna say daddy?”
“I've never said-” Vergil pauses much to Dante’s satisfaction and amusement. For all he claims to have no recollection, it’s obvious he’s just playing it up.
Dante chuckles, “I don’t blame you for trying to forget. But hey, it’s one of the few memories we have together. After the fire.”
“I recall you wearing a ridiculous band of leather over your chest in lieu of a shirt.” Vergil grumbles.
“If you got it, flaunt it.” Dante shrugs. “We were young once.”
Another wave of demons, crawling over the ridge is subdued.
“Hey, don’t you think we should be resting instead of fighting each other.” Dante comments mid fight.
“I wouldn’t want you to have any ideas while resting.” Vergil grunts, snatching Yamato from the corpse of a fury.
“Oh? What kind of ideas?”
Vergil returns to his tried and true method of pissing off Dante, maintaining a stoic silence.
“Vergil. What kind of ideas?”
“Verge?”
“V.” Dante verbally probes his twin to a beat so that it doesn’t get boring. “Vergil. V for Vergil. Crybaby Vergil. What ideas? You don’t want to talk, is that it? None of that brotherly bonding?” He’s about to crack, Dante can sense it.
“Hey Verge! Say daddy again. Call me daddy.”
“Do you ever shut up!” Vergil roars, slicing an empusa in half. “You are nothing like father. Sometimes I doubt you are even my brother.”
“No. Only sometimes?” Dante smirks. “That’s not a nice thing to say about mom.”
“I tire of your incessant chattering.” Vergil composes himself and this time does a much better job of ignoring Dante.
Dante gives up, at least until there’s a lull in waves of monsters. “So where’re we going?”
“I am searching for a hell gate.” his brother answers grudgingly.
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna open one.” Dante groans, thinking his brother is once again going to do some antisocial bullshit that he’s gonna have to put a stop to.
“How else are we to leave hell?” Vergil says dourly.
“Oh. Right. Yamato can’t cut between planes. How long do you think it's going to take?”
“A few months. Perhaps.” Vergil pauses his trek, “I never asked you to join me. Your departure from the surface-”
“What the fuck do you mean?” Dante turns and puts a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around, “You’re my brother! Of course I should-”
A sweep of Mirage Edge nearly takes off his arm. “You have a place on the surface. I could have felled the Qliphoth on my own.” Vergil says, a sharp bite to his words, but there’s something else behind them. Bitterness.
“Not a chance. I gotta keep my eye on you, ya know? You’re my responsibility."
Vergil seems taken aback by Dante’s claim. “I am not your responsibility.”
“You’re my twin brother. It’s my job to make sure you’re not fucking up any more shit.”
“Is that all.” The elder twin says coldly. “I apologize that my transgressions have taken you from your dingy office in Red Grave.”
“That’s not what I meant, V.” Dante’s voice is strained, “You are my brother. I-”
“Enough talk. Rest while you can. I'll keep watch.”
“Not a chance. You rest.”
“Dante-”
“Nah, I'm not giving you the opportunity to run away.”
Vergil sighs, pushing his hair up. “Why would I run and leave you-” he cuts himself off.
Dante’s blue eyes are still distrustful, even after Vergil’s half admission.
With a growl, Vergil shoves Yamato in his twin’s hands, “Fine. Hold onto this.”
The realization dawns on his face. Turns out he isn't entirely inept and understands the implications of leaving Yamato in his hands. Dante lays down, cradling the sword like a lover. One hand on the hilt and the other under the guard. His leg is curled around the sheathed body. The sight of him makes Vergil feel somewhat conflicted. That is how they regain strength, taking short rests while making their way through hell’s sometimes flat and sometimes mountainous hellscape.
“I’m so fucking bored. Hey, Vergil, entertain me.”
Vergil continues to ignore him, leaping his way up the mountain.
“Come on, V. Your human self was so chatty. Even if he was just reciting poetry.” Dante matches his jumps, though one misstep on the edge of a rocky platform throws him off balance. Vergil grabs his brother’s hand, pulling him back from the edge with a grunt.
“Thanks bro.” Dante says, surprised.
“If you paid half as much attention to the terrain as you do… you really don’t pay attention.”
“I give you attention. You’re breathing rare air.” his arms are open and he wears a smarmy grin.
Vergil scoffs, pointedly holding his breath as he continues marking the path over the mountain, picking off stray devils with Mirage Blade.
“So I was curious, where were you and what were you doing? I can’t think of anything that’d put you in that state besides dad.”
Vergil refuses to answer his inquiries at first, finding Dante’s curiosity needless and annoying.
“How long did you stay in Fortuna?”
“What in the actual fuck is a Qliphoth?”
After a week of constant questioning, Vergil’s patience is wheedled down to a needle. The fastest way to get Dante to shut the fuck up is to answer his questions. So he does, droning on about hell, hell ecology, demon hierarchy. He does not go into detail about his enslavement by Mundus or his time at Fortuna, glossing over the bitterest of memories.
“How long were you in hell?” Dante asks over the shrieking din of hellbats.
“I don’t know.” And he truly doesn’t. Time seemed to pass differently.
“Do you regret it? Not taking my hand?” Dante asks after the last bat is shot down.
The thread that was Vergil’s patience snaps, “Do I have to sew your mouth shut with your own tendons? After I've ripped them from your body?”
“Sounds sexy. But if you want to shut me up, there’s an easier way.” Dante taps his bottom lip, smirking.
Realistically, it’s not the worst idea. Vergil grabs his dirty henley, dragging him in, licking into his mouth. Ignoring all taste and texture- to the best of his ability- he draws Dante’s tongue into his mouth. And when the tip reaches the back of his throat in its eagerness, Vergil snaps his jaw shut.
Dante yells, “Mo-erfu-er!”
Vergil spits the piece of flesh on the floor, “That insult does not work, Dante.” Hopefully this buys him at least ten minutes of silence.
“uh bih ma onge off!”
And I’d do it again, Vergil thinks viciously. Who does Dante think he is? Forcing Vergil to face his mistakes. The price he paid. Estranged from his only family over a nearly four decade old misunderstanding. Doubting his mother’s love and intentions. Failing to protect her. Incarcerated from his son, currently a grown stranger.
“ ‘am ah-hoe.” Dante continues cursing him out. Noisy, but it’s better than the inane questions.
“I was just trying to be nice, you big bitch! You know, make small talk? Converse? You massive antisocial elitist.” The complaining continues, up until Vergil loses his patience again an hour later.
“Dante.” He grabs his twins hair, muffling his voice after slamming their lips together. This time, it takes more effort to coax his brother’s tongue into his mouth, counting down precisely thirty seconds before biting his tongue off again, smugly spitting the flesh on the ground and crushing it beneath his heel.
Dante howls, “Uh fu-ing bah-ar!”
When he's healed a few minutes later, he's sullen and blessedly quiet, besides muttering, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on you. Fool me three times…”
During the next respite, Dante sits with his legs and arms folded like a pretzel on the floor, back hunched. Clearly in a bad mood. He doesn’t reach for Yamato when Vergil holds it out. Performatively turning his back on it instead.
Vergil scoffs, “How like you to pout. Take it, Dante.”
“No. Asshole. Fucking bastard. Meglomaniac. Pompous, self-serving, egocentric, pretentious narcissist.”
“Did you happen to steal a thesaurus while descending? I didn’t know you were literate.” Vergil kneels on one knee so that he’s still above him, roughly grasping his twin’s jaw and turning to meet his gaze.
Dante looks... frustrated. As much as he’s glaring at Vergil with an identical azure glow to his eyes, his are dimming as his pupils dilate, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows in anticipation. Like a dog that hasn’t been properly conditioned, he cautiously accepts contact when Vergil licks past his lips and teeth. Their tongues glide together, Vergil is intruding because Dante is still wary. Like a fishing lure, he begins to reel, drawing him in- but Dante breaks contact at the last moment, shoving him back.
Vergil stands, “Really, Dante?” he digs the kojiri of Yamato onto the obvious bulge between his legs, causing him to hiss and groan at the rough treatment.
His brother gazes at his own crotch, seemingly just as surprised, “Fuck.”
“You ought to have a modicum of self-control.” Vergil replaces the metal end of the sheath with the toe of his boot, waving it from side to side, “Think of the time. Location.” Not to mention the company.
Instead of backing away, Dante pushes into the pressure, a needy whine leaving his throat.
“Pathetic.” Vergil rests more weight on his heel, lifting- the intention is to cease this foolishness but Dante hikes his hips up, grinding against the sole, leaving a rust red imprint on his trousers, half-bitten moans exiting his kiss-slick lips.
He’s more entranced than he’d like to admit. The way Dante gyrates is filthy. Desperate. What is far more obscene is the way his eyes glaze over, watching his very own twin brother’s perplexed, twisted expression. The corner of his lips curled, half scornful, half fascinated. Vergil presses, making it easier on him as Dante ruts against his boot.
“Verge.”
He calls his name instead of his many other lovers. A strange sensation roots itself at the bottom of Vergil’s spine. The moment he lifts his foot, Dante climaxes, whining about the lack of stimulation even as he's wetting his trousers.
“Fuck. Holy shit.” Dante pants, gaze shifting lower, scanning Vergil’s groin.
“Worthless. You should have stayed on the surface if you were going to be this pathetic.”
The corners of Dante’s mouth turn down as do his brows, “You kissed me first. Everyone has needs.” He growls.
“I suppose not everyone has the self-discipline.”
“You gotta look down on me every time, even though we're the same height.” Dante staggers to his feet, lips pressed into a thin line. “You ever think that maybe it doesn't have anything to do with discipline?” he snatches the wrist that’s holding Yamato. “Don't act like you're above it all.” and then massages Vergil’s cock with the other.
Vergil strikes, whipping the sheathed end of Yamato into Dante’s stomach, making him keel over, wincing. “This is your idea of propriety?” Vergil commands his blood to stop moving down. Was he excited by his twin’s touch? He maintains an unbothered affectation.
“You wanna wrestle?” There's a manic gleam to Dante’s eyes.
“Don't you dare-” it’s less of a wrestling match and more of a mauling. Namely, they're both vicious with the way they claw at each other, like feral children on a playground. Dante tackles him to the filthy ground, digging his knee into Vergil’s groin, sparking pain and something else in the pit of his stomach.
Vergil growls, flipping their positions and dislocating Dante’s shoulder in the process.
His twin’s laugh is blood-choked and accusing, “See? You're just as degenerate as I am.” he pops his shoulder back into place.
Nascent in his trousers is Vergil’s erection, “It’s merely a physiological reaction!” he snarls, reaching for his throat, but Dante catches his hands and they push and pull, rolling on the ground like they did when they were five.
On one roll, the back of Vergil’s head slams against something hard, stunning him for a second. Leaving Dante enough time to pin his arms over his head, hovering over his lips, “Come on Verge, let loose a little. Mom and Dad aren’t here to judge you. I sure as hell aren’t judging you.” Dante rests more of his weight on his hips, sitting over his dick.
Vergil bucks up, regretting the decision when pleasure sparks from the friction, “Get off.” he grits his teeth, heated.
“I can help you take care of it.” Dante sings, “Physio or logical- whatever, I’m just gonna sit here. You do your thing.”
Vergil bucks again, grimacing when the same sensation occurs, “Dante.”
“What, baby?” he’s smirking. “It’s been a long time for me, probably been longer for you unless V was getting busy.” Dante rolls his hips but doesn’t outright grind down, leaving a thin layer of air between them, “If it helps, pretend it's someone else.” his voice purrs in his ear.
“You are a fool, Dante.” Vergil growls, thrusting his hips up with enough force in an attempt to unseat his brother. At least that’s what he tells himself. He pants, rocking hard enough to bruise both their hips, snarling at the pleasure until Dante falls forward gasping, “Oh fuck-” kissing the corner of his lips, then full on when Vergil angles for it. He catalogs the taste, the heat, the texture, the audacity-
“Not this time!” Dante breaks away, “Stop trying to destroy my money maker.” He releases Vergil’s arms to grip his hair, angling his twin’s head back, distracting him by bouncing on his hips. Vergil has his own hands in Dante’s hair, pulling-
But Dante doesn’t let that deter him, teasing Vergil’s lips with said money maker, drawing his tongue into his own mouth to continue the dance.
Vergil works towards his own release, finding it easily as pleasure crests and he soils his trousers, a quiet choked whine escapes when Dante continues to grind, “Fuck, Vergil.” he moans, “I’m almost there.”
He hisses, infuriated, but allows it, clenching down on the urgent noises hellbent on escaping his throat.
The aftermath… Dante has thrown himself to the side, sensing his twin’s bloodlust. He lays on his back, limbs splayed like a starfish, “See, that wasn’t so bad. Nasty ass foreplay aside.”
He waits in heavy silence for a response.
“...”
“You sure like to kiss. Did you kiss your girl when you made Nero?” Dante narrowly avoids a Mirage Blade and has to continue rolling as more blades materialize, “Hey, hey, time out!” he leaps to his feet, dodging. “All I’m saying is you scratch my itch and I’ll scratch yours, deal? It’s mutually beneficial.”
“Touch me again, Dante and I’ll cut it off.”
“Aww, come on, Verge.” Dante whines, already crossing boundaries by shoring up behind his brother, curling an arm around his waist, reminiscent of how he holds Yamato when resting.
As tempted as Vergil is to slice off the offending arm, there’s a density to his bones that makes him not want to move.
“I’ll keep watch, you get some shut eye.” Dante’s breath tickles his nape, his voice both familiar and unfamiliar. There’s something indolent about his tone. Too affectionate. Vergil allows himself to drift asleep, sinking more deeply than he’s allowed himself in a long time.
—
“Woah there.” Dante’s arms constrict, “You’re fine, Verge.”
Vergil breaks out of his embrace, wiping his sweat from his head, pushing up his hair.
“Did ya have a nightmare? You were whimpering in your sleep.”
“I do not whimper.” Vergil sneers. He’s surprised he slept even a little. Hell does not hold any good memories.
“Sure sure.”
The first wave of monsters is already here, no challenge to either of them.
“Say Verge, what were you up to during the fire?”
There’s a respectful amount of curiosity in his brother’s tone. “I was attacked. Nearly stabbed to death, but my devil powers awoke. I killed the intruders but it was too late. Mother had perished. And you were nowhere to be found.”
“Huh. So you did almost die.” Dante murmurs. “I… after mom hid me in the closet, she went to look for you. I heard her scream. If I had been as strong as you that day-”
“You were a child.”
“So were you! I could have gotten stabbed a few times and-”
“Likely would have died.”
“You don’t know that.” He angrily scrubs at his hair, “I should have tried. Then mom would still be-”
“You would both be dead.” Vergil pulls one of his arms off, “You blame yourself for her death?” He questions.
Dante can’t meet his gaze, “Kinda… not really. I thought you would. Since you managed to get your shit together.”
Vergil distinctly remembers the ornate bound book that V imparted on his young recalcitrant soul. A gift and a reminder of what humanity he has left. “I do not blame you for our mother’s death. I sought vengeance and failed miserably, even with my capabilities. You were the one who succeeded in defeating Mundus.”
“Damn.” Dante gazes at him with watery blue eyes, “That’s the nicest shit you’ve ever said to me.”
Their relationship improves incrementally. Though Vergil does wonder what makes him tolerate Dante rutting against his hip, arms around his waist and peppering kisses on his neck, “Come on, V.”
Coming off the high of a battle with five empusa queens. Dante shamelessly clings and simpers, “A little TLC never killed anybody.”
“You're pathetic.”
Dante readily agrees, “Yes I'm pathetic, now throw me a bone.”
Vergil clinically traces the heated bulge with his fingertips, “What have you done to earn it?”
“Three of those queens were my kills.” Dante argues.
“You did land the final blows.” Vergil concedes, only because he’s distracted by how Dante’s lips contort when he adds pressure.
“That's right. I'm a good boy.”
“That remains to be seen.” Vergil cruelly squeezes, but Dante merely groans, as accustomed to pain as he is to pleasure. Vergil thumbs the button open and pulls the zipper down. His black briefs are already wet in the front, a dark filthy stain with secretions that stick to his fingers. Peeling down the waistband releases a balmy heat and Dante’s half-erect cock, still hiding in its hood. Vergil tests the weight of it in his hands, feeling around the shaft. It’s not any different from his own, visually. But it seems to bob belligerently, vying for his attention.
“Please.” Dante moans, thrusting against his hand, but it only lightly skims the surface.
“I could rip it off.” Vergil muses aloud, thumbing over the head, pulling back the hood.
“Hnngh?!” It grows firmer, offering further evidence of Dante’s deviant nature.
Vergil scoffs, drawing back to remove his gloves, “Insufferable.”
“Suffer me a bit more.” Dante purrs, undeterred.
He wraps his hand around the shaft, allowing Dante to roughly rut into his grip, one arm slung over his shoulder and the other gripping his bicep over the coat, “Fuck.”
“You're less than an animal. Holding onto baser instincts-”
Dante kisses him, sucking and biting at his lips, “Fuck, you're sexy when you berate me. I'll return the favor, I promise.”
Vergil’s brows furrow, but rather than saying something contrary, he tightens his grip. Slobbered on by his brother, pushing against his impatient thrusts as Dante’s claws prick his clothes. Dante comes, his face buried in the crook of Vergil’s neck, panting and leaving a thin film of condensation that cools his skin. The same occurs with the tacky thin fluid on his hand. He quickly burns it away with demonic energy, uninterested in the evidence of their illicit act.
Dante’s weight leaves him as he drops to the floor, pressing his mouth to Vergil’s groin.
“What are you doing??” He shoves Dante’s head, or at least attempts to. But Dante sucks him through his trousers, mouthy and seditious.
“Payback.” He hums, adding his teeth to the mix. “When’s the last time you were sucked?”
Vergil ignores the heat rising to his cheeks, he meets his gaze, saying nothing.
“Never?” Dante’s eyes glitter dangerously. He quickly pulls Vergil’s cock out, tugging at the hem, confused, “Where’s your- are you always commando? Fuck! That’s gonna fuck with my concentration.” he mutters.
Without further preamble, he swallows Vergil's half-hard dick because this is an opportunity that might not come again. His brother is as moody as the tide. Dante groans as he feels the organ swell in his mouth, taking up more and more space. He's only got half of it in his mouth, swirling his tongue under the foreskin and teasing the slit. Bursts of bitter all natural lube and salty musky flesh, Vergil's scent occupies his senses.
His twin moans, one hand clutching Dante’s nape and the other his shoulder. Dante smirks around his boner, catching his frustrated, twisted expressions, “ma goo, mm?”
“Don't speak.” Vergil pinches his ear, an erogenous zone that Dante didn’t even know he had, shuddering. He can tell from the way Vergil’s breathing evens out that he’s getting impatient, but he’s not making a move to shove his fat cock down Dante’s throat. Mighty generous of him to allow Dante breathing room but he’s not sure he wants to reward that behavior. The hardest part is over, getting him as worked up as Dante feels.
He pulls away, wiping the sliver of drool still connecting them, his brother grunting in confusion. His saliva lathered penis is a work of art and Dante the artist. He admires his masterpiece, delicately tracing throbbing veins, first with his fingers, then his tongue. Stroking the hood up and over the head like he does his own, adding a twist at the tip that drives himself wild. It has the same effect on his brother.
“Your girl never did this for you?” Dante wonders aloud, “Shame.” There is a troubling chunk of his psyche celebrating that he’s the first.
“I did not spend much time with her.” Vergil confesses, much to Dante’s surprise. But he has an aversion to hearing Vergil talk about Nero’s mom even though he’s the one who brought it up.
Dante opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out, gesturing with his fingers. When Vergil makes no move, Dante sighs, thinking of something to say to provoke him, “This is why virgins are the worst.”
“I am not a virgin.” His brother sneers.
“Might as well be. Come on, baby. Fuck my mouth.”
It works too well. Dante is stuffed, cracking his jaw wide open in an effort to make it as smooth as possible. Who knows? The asshole might like teeth. His throat is heavy and breath control becomes an ordeal. His nose and lips are up against wiry white hair, the only part of his brother that is allowed to be messy.
Dante swallows, earning a moan for his efforts. He’s teasing alongside the shaft with his tongue, admiring the fit.
He can’t help whining when Vergil draws back, then eases into the far too gentle return of the intrusion. Thinking quickly, he splits his index and middle finger, the rest of his fingers curled and facing towards him, placing the sign under his chin. V for Vergil, or virgin. To say he succeeds in goading his twin is an understatement.
Groaning as Vergil fucks his throat, his brother snarling as he slams his hips forward, both hands on the back of Dante’s head. He couldn’t break away even if he wanted to. He doesn't want to.
It's good to know Vergil isn't some one-pump chump. Battering the back of Dante’s throat, long enough to easily bypass his gag reflex, not that it makes it any easier for him to breathe. He holds his hips on the next thrust, trying to push himself even further. His jaw is aching. Feeling light-headed, he pushes through, staggering breaths through his nose and swallowing a well of fluids, both his and Vergil’s.
After one final thrust, Dante can feel the member throb and swell, a rush of hot jizz flows down his esophagus and straight into his stomach. He wraps his lips around the softening member, cleaning it up with his tongue on the way out. Wow. It tastes gross. Dante pushes a mixture of his saliva and semen around his mouth with his tongue. But fuck is it addicting. He already wants more.
Vergil is panting, gazing down on Dante with a somewhat undecipherable look in his eyes.
“Not bad, right?” His voice is fucked.
Vergil grips his chin, “Do you make it a habit to prostrate yourself before unworthy men?” He asks, stroking Dante’s bottom lip with his thumb.
“No. Don’t know what ya mean by unworthy.”
“Humans. Parasites. Weak-”
“Mom was human. I'm pretty sure she caught dad by the dick and balls.” Dante shrugs upon being released, Vergil hissing at the notion of their parents doing the nasty. “We had to be made somehow.” Dante laughs. “To answer your question, no. I don't often suck cock. I'm usually the one getting blown.”
Vergil’s expression shifts into something cold and thoughtful.
“Why? Does it piss you off imagining your baby bro sucking off other guys?” Dante pecks his pecker, still hanging out there before tucking him back in, “Can't believe you've been walking around without undies like some fucking pervert.” He mutters.
“You’re the deviant.”
“Yeah yeah, don't hear you complaining.” Dante rises from where he was kneeling, feeling the ol’ bones creek. He dusts off his knees. “And now we got company.” The nobodies dance around on their creepy limbs. “Hey, can I get another reward if I take them out myself?” A slow smile spreads on Dante’s lips.
“We’ll see.” Vergil murmurs, summoning his blades.