Thunderhead

Chapter 4: Thunderhead

Time stood still, air crackled like an electric whip. Ice met Fire. Fire, Dante lusted and loved and raged deep within himself. Fire melted the ice, carried it, scaled it, sent it into a roiling frenzy.

Outside, the brilliant storm wailed, forgotten.

Riding on the wings of passion, Vergil surged forward, memory and nightmare forgotten as the storm, locking his lips with Dante’s. Vying for dominance and remaining united. Dante’s hands buried in his brother’s hair, tugging with insistent lust. Their tongues met past their lips, entangling. Vergil let himself be won, let strong hands make light work of bedraggled clothing, helping to get it away, to feel Dante’s flesh on his own.
He was desperately hungry. Fiery, sinewy muscle and chilled, worked flesh glided over each other, water and oil. Dante remembered his brother’s flesh, his scent and taste and sounds, and wanted him again to be his.

Outside, lightning flashed, thunder barking at its heels and rattling the ground viciously.

Dante’s hand encircled Vergil’s diamond-hard shaft, enclosed it in his unnaturally hot grasp. It was slick with an excited precursor, pressed and throbbing with need. He mapped out each pulsing vein along the thick muscle, dipped his nail into the slit and the head and driving a man insane. A quick squeeze brought breathless gasps from Vergil. It waxed painful, how badly they were in need.
With a sharp, ragged growl, Vergil arched his snake-sinuous body, impaling himself with brilliant pain and blinding pleasure onto his brother’s lap. Moments, seconds of gasping and stunned heart beats in time. Then Vergil found himself drawn into the air with delicious suction, friction, and Dante pushed fiercely back into him. His voice, cut free of restraint, played out keens and grunts and cries of ecstasy, in time with rhythmic pistoning hips and stretching muscles. He was filled, again and again, deeper and longer and more complete than he had ever felt before.
Dante’s face below him, flushed with pleasure and satisfaction, betrayed nothing, held nothing but the highest love as he bucked deeper and harder into his brother.

Thunder and lightning broke even, bursting into a million tiny shards to be heard over the howl of frenzied wind and frenzied moans from within the cabin near the sea.
Dante ached to his core, trembling intensely acutely aware of everything in one moment. The beads of his brother’s sweat and combined seed as it splashed onto his chest, the beautiful glove-like muscles wrapped so tightly around him. Vergil’s expression as he came; eyes half-lidded, gazing with perfect clarity down into his own, mouth parted with a glistening dewdrop of saliva precariously perched on his chin as his body pitched, still squeezing him into a fierce climax.

Just like that, the glass shattered.
Outside, the storm ripped apart and frayed at the ends.