Poison

Characters belong to Capcom.

~ Chapter VIII ~

As suddenly as he had begun, Vergil ceased pummeling him; Dante felt a cool rush of air as his brother yanked his pants down over his thighs, past his knees… he was naked now, and he pressed his face shamefully into the hard desk. He heard a rustle of fabric as Vergil slid his coat off and let it drop to the floor; he felt his brother lean over him, Vergil’s bare chest burning against his shivering back, the cold metal zipper of his open vest brushing Dante’s side.

In that magnified moment, he was acutely aware of Vergil’s hardness pressing against his ass.

His mind recoiled as heat began building in his groin again (why was his body insisting on being so contradictory to his will?); Vergil’s warm breath on his ear was winding him tightly.

He felt his brother shift away; more rustling of fabric, the sound of a zipper, and then he gasped (for the millionth time) as Vergil pressed a finger against an oh-so-tender area unfamiliar to touch. His brother’s other hand was creeping around his hip, stroking its way into the crook where his thigh met his body, groping his sensitive, shivering flesh.

Vergil’s weight on his back was crushing his bruised and battered body again; he tried to shift, tried to struggle, tried to fight off the wash of tingling and prickling feelings that were crawling up his spine.

His brother didn’t lash out but doggedly ignored his resistance this time; instead he ground his bare hips against his ass and insistently pushed that invading finger past his last defenses and inside him.

“No!” Dante’s sharp cry cut through the air. “Don’t—” he tried to summon a warning tone, but it sounded sickeningly like pleading to his ringing ears— “don’t…”

o-o-o

Vergil didn’t respond; his roving hand moved to the small of Dante’s back, between their bodies, his blunt fingernails digging into the knotted muscles there. His warm mouth traveled from Dante’s ear to the nape of his neck, where he gently bit his helpless twin and licked his salty-sweaty flesh.

He withdrew his probing finger and ran his hand down Dante’s quivering injured thigh; the body trapped beneath his jerked and twisted hopelessly as his fingers found the still-gaping wound there and then rubbed the warm viscous blood that was collecting in the crook of his younger twin’s bent knee.

Vergil slipped his other hand out from between their bodies and gripped his twin’s side tightly, apprizing Dante’s rigid stomach with his fingertips while he drifted the other now blood-soaked slippery hand back up his brother’s leg.

He re-entered him with two wet fingers this time, pushing past Dante’s efforts to keep him out, reveling in the way his younger brother’s back was arching against his stomach and chest.

Dante’s thick, choked “Stop—!” only prompted more fevered stroking; Vergil explored deeper while he pinned a weakly flailing arm to the desk with his other hand. He took the pale skin of his brother’s neck between his teeth again and sucked hard— he could feel Dante’s pulse racing under his tongue.

Need was starting to overwhelm him now; he grated his hips against firm flesh as he withdrew his fingers again and maneuvered the head of his throbbing cock to that tender orifice. He pushed gently as Dante twitched violently and drew a ragged breath, then harder as every muscle in his brother’s body tensed to resist him.

A low groan escaped Vergil’s lips in synchrony with the pained cry that tore from his brother’s throat as he slid his length slowly into that tight warmth.

o-o-o

Stinging tears burned in his eyes. Vergil’s iron grip on his wrist was relentless, and his other arm was pinned against the desk beneath his torso; he gasped as hopelessness drowned his senses and fiery pain scorched every inch of his oversensitized skin.

God, it hurt, it burned… it was tearing him apart.

But there was a dull pounding pleasure too, hidden, buried within the agony, and it intensified as Vergil panted into his ear, as his teeth grazed him; his brother was withdrawing, then plunging deeper, and it hurt, it violated, and felt wildly erotic all at the same time.

The sharp edge of the desk dug into his abdomen; Dante could feel himself growing hard again against it as Vergil’s thrusts rocked them both.

Something deep inside him was ripping and bursting; he could feel thick blood and the sticky remnants of his own last release dripping, mixing, running down both his and his brother’s bare thighs.

Vergil’s low, husky voice was moaning in his ear now, and he had to moan himself (he couldn’t help it) as his brother’s body crushed his own in a shuddering flood of released pleasure.

His eyes were open, he thought, but he could no longer see; his body was drained of blood and strength. The echoes of the words rape and incest bounced around in his head, lightly scraping his brain, but not entering conscious thought.

And as Vergil collapsed against him, Dante finally allowed the darkness to wash over him and bear his confusion away.

~ Chapter VIII FIN ~