Poison

Characters belong to Capcom.

~ Chapter VI ~

Dante’s body was limp against him, but he was still conscious, albeit barely. In spite of himself, Vergil had to marvel at the symmetry of their bodies; the way they fit together was almost uncanny.

Dante was still shaking; there was something intensely erotic about the contrast of dark blood against his pale skin, and the involuntary twitching of his muscles (whether from pain or nervousness) was only adding to the heat Vergil could feel building in his abdomen.

He smiled gently and caught his brother’s ear between his teeth, tugging and nibbling. Dante groaned softly, the sound muffled against his shoulder. Vergil slid his hand across Dante’s bare stomach again, then up to his chest and over to the buckles of his holster harness. With deft fingers, he undid them fluidly and then slid his twin’s heavy jacket off of one shoulder.

Dante shuddered again, this time from the cold; Vergil could feel blood and sweat soaking through his jacket where his brother’s head rested against his shoulder. He snaked a cool hand beneath the heavy red leather of Dante’s coat and allowed it to roam down his back, caressing the muscles there and running his fingertips along the vertebrae. Accidentally, he brushed against Yamato’s exit wound and felt Dante stiffen in his arms and begin to pant again; he ran both hands down and then up his brother’s sides and across his collarbone…

Unexpectedly, a clammy, bloody hand had made its way to Vergil’s throat; for a second, he thought that Dante would try to strangle him, but instead (and admittedly, to his surprise), the slender fingers languished for a moment at his collar, and then gripped the zipper of his vest and tugged it downwards.

o-o-o

His body wasn’t obeying his thoughts, if they could be called thoughts. As Vergil had caressed his body, Dante’s hand had taken on a mind of its own and was now unzipping his brother’s vest, dragging a finger across the warm flesh and taut muscle beneath.

His body still ached, and the poison fire was still burning dully in his veins, but a different type of hot feeling had settled into his lower stomach now as well… one that was uninvited, but not altogether unpleasant.

What was he thinking? Everything about this was wrong. His mind protested weakly, but as he became more and more aware of the warmth radiating from his twin’s torso, of the subtle touches and caresses of his hands and lips, his own body was reacting on some distinctly primitive level.

Even the dully roaring pain that was still searing his insides was somehow turning itself into a masochistic pleasure as Vergil’s hands began moving more purposefully; now they were pushing the jacket off his other shoulder, baring his back.

He slipped his own hands inside his brother’s now-parted vest, feeling the smooth musculature ripple and twitch beneath his cold, slippery palms. Iron fingers gripped the back of his neck and lifted his head off of Vergil’s shoulder— once again his lips were crushed by his older twin’s devouring mouth.

Dante felt himself being bent backward, one of Vergil’s strong hands placed firmly at the small of his back, supporting his weight as he was lowered to the floor. The contact of the cold wood to his open wound prompted another gasp and another shortening of breath; his back arched convulsively and he unsuspectingly ground his hips against his brother’s stomach. His fists clenched the silky material of Vergil’s jacket, wadding the fabric and staining it with thick, dark blood.

Vergil’s insistent tongue was reaching into the corners of his mouth, his teeth grazing his lips; they shared the metallic taste of his poison-tinged blood; it was dripping from the corners of his mouth now, trickling over his cheeks and sliding down his jaw.

Vergil was slowly easing his body down, allowing his hips to grind against Dante’s; his hands traversed the younger twin’s shivering torso and this time successfully unsnapped his pants. Dante made another effort to resist him, but this one was feebler; Vergil responded promptly by putting two fingers of pressure against his weak twin’s injured thigh.

Dante felt a sudden surge of anger at this threatening motion; he didn’t enjoy being rendered helpless or taken advantage of, and he wanted Vergil to be painfully aware of that. He jerked his uninjured leg up and caught his brother squarely in the sensitive inner thigh with his knee.

Vergil grunted softly, but didn’t retaliate immediately; instead, he drew back and gazed steadily into Dante’s accusing eyes.

Vergil quirked an eyebrow at his silent stare, then said in a smug voice, “No foul play?”

Dante glared back at him, and his body automatically tensed for an impending blow.

A slight incline of Vergil’s head. “Fair enough.”

Before Dante’s pain-wracked body could react, Vergil had tugged his pants down over his hips and seized his exposed sex roughly with both hands.

Dante felt a hot flush creep up his cheeks; Vergil’s blood-slick hands were now working their way up and down the shaft, forcing what felt like all the blood in his body to rush up to his skin; his toes curled inside his boots and his fingernails scraped the hard wooden floor.

“Nnh…” the sound escaped him before he could catch it, and above him, Vergil smiled another one of those smug smiles.

Dante closed his eyes to him; his face was burning again, and his mind tried to shut out the humiliation that his body was denying… god, was resisting this even fathomable? Vergil’s confident, rhythmic stroking was drawing all manner of gasps and moans from him— sounds unrelated to poison or agony, for a change.

Blood was pounding in his ears now as the pressure in his body rose to bursting; his back arched and he let out a hoarse cry as he climaxed, warm fluid spilling over Vergil’s hands and his own stomach.

His breathing was ragged again, frantic gasps ripping themselves from his starved lung; he didn’t open his eyes, but he knew, he just knew, that above him, Vergil was still smiling that goddamn smug smile.

~ Chapter VI FIN ~