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Red and Blue - Red

By: nyxmidnight
folder +A through F › Devil May Cry
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 1
Views: 5,534
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Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Red

Red and Blue - Red


The sharp blade of the katana jerked forward a few inches more into his brother's guts with a sickening wet suction noise, but Vergil barely heard it, too focused on the groans of agony escaping Dante's lips. "My dear brother," he purred softly, revelling in the sight of his brother's surprised, pained expression. With a smirk, he thrust the blade forward again, until the cold and wet hilt resting against the hot skin of Dante's belly, cutting Dante's fingers on the way. He purred again as his brother, his twin, his mirror hissed sharply from the contact of the cold metal against his wound and panted slightly.

Dante gripped his arm tightly, soiling his coat with his blood, but Vergil obviously didn't care, gaze locked with Dante's as he smirked hungrily. Fuck... Biting back a cry of pain, Dante gritted his teeth as Vergil titled the handle of his katana lower, the razor sharp blade neatly cutting into his flesh like it was soft butter. "Bastard..." he croaked out, and a few droplets of blood tinted his lips crimson.

Vergil's eyes narrowed as he chuckled, taking a step forward. "Then so are you, my brother..." The katana's handle was lower now, allowing Vergil to move closer to Dante, slipping the haft between his legs as he pressed a hand on Dante's chest, leaning in and licking the blood off Dante's lips.

Groaning, Dante tried to pull away, but to no avail. Vergil's katana in him seemed to be sapping his strength, keeping him from healing or escaping. The burning pain in his belly was excruciating. Compared to this, the six or seven scythes of the Hell Prides had been nothing but needle pricks. He tried to grab Vergil's katana, but could only feebly grip the hand still on the hilt with his fingers cut to the bone. His hand collided with the bulge in Vergil's leather pants, making him exhale against Dante's lips and rub back. "You sick..."

Vergil's chuckles hit Dante like a slap in the face as his twin rubbed himself against the bloodied hand, then the handle of the katana when Dante pulled his hand back in disgust. "Because of course *you*, my pure and noble brother, don't thirst for violence and sex..." He chuckled again as Dante glared at him, because he knew. It had been a year, but Dante's body remembered him well, craved for him after so many nights without him. Just brushing his hand against Dante's crotch was enough to confirm that. "Why are you so shy all of the sudden, Dante? You are getting the party you wanted..." he purred as he opened his pants, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his tight pants and rubbing it against his katana's handle, the head gently pressing against Dante's belly at the end of each of Vergil's thrust. "Won't you join me?"

The only answer Vergil got was an icy glare from Dante, trying for once in his life to resist his body's urges and his need for his brother's hands on him, be it for a slap or a caress. He was not going to give his brother the satisfaction of answering his little devious display. Not after all this. Not after abandoning him for a year for some stupid quest while their mother had just died and they needed to support each other as a new life began for them.

Not that Vergil had really been expecting an answer, breathing softly as he humped the hilt of his sword before his brother, somehow losing nothing of his feline grace even as his breath hitched up. "You're missing out..." he panted out, the rain falling on his cock an added stimulation to his fake intercourse with his brother, and he grinned as he saw the corners of Dante's lips twitch at the sight of Vergil's obvious pleasure.

Blinking against the water dripping in his eyes from his wet hair, Dante tried to concentrate on the sight of his brother's face, but his vision was going hazy. This was not supposed to happen... why wasn't he healing? Why was his brother's katana drinking away his strength so easily? How could he be suddenly so weak? Growling, he clutched Vergil's shoulders as his knees began to shake, making Vergil chuckle again. He tried to shut him up by squeezing his arms with all his might, but he had no strength left, and his short, blunt nails wouldn't hurt him even if he had not been wearing something with sleeves. He could only glare at his twin, who closed his eyes and howled to the moon as he came, throwing his head back in ecstasy, spilling himself over Dante's stomach and the silvery hilt of his katana. The world disappeared being a white veil for Dante, who came without a sound at the sight of his twin brother reaching climax - it had been too long, he had missed him too much, seeing him again had awakened all his old appetites again.

After stepping back, while Dante was still coming in his pants, Vergil yanked the blade out of his brother, and he fall back like a rock onto the wet stones. The rain water pooled on the summoning circle tainting itself with red, again, and washed away the blood and semen mingled on Dante's abdomen. Finally, he had had what he wanted from his brother: the amulet, and...

"Shall we leave now?" Arkham asked, with next to no inflection in his voice.

Snorting, Vergil tucked himself in and wiped the hilt of his sword with a corner of Dante's coat. Back then, as soon as he had looked in his brother's eyes as he rose again, refusing to give up, his fierce determination to not be beaten almost palpable in the damp, stormy air of this cursed night, Vergil had completely forgotten about Arkham. In that moment, Dante had made everything surrounding them disappear. Once again, they had been alone. Together. As it had been meant to be. The two only half-devils in the world.

Acquire the strength to protect, Vergil thought as he looked at Dante lying motionless on the stone, and snorted at his own corniness as he walked towards Arkham.

"Yes. I am done here," he said, and walked down the stairs, heading for the inside of the tower again, closely followed by Arkham.

On the cold stone of the tower's roof, under the cold white gaze of the enormous full moon, Dante's hands briefly grew claws.