His brother
His brother
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His brother
One-shot
Disclaimer
are not mine, they are the property of
story.
W A R N I
N G: This is about male/male relationships. Not your cup of tea? Please hit
the back key.
A/N: I know I wasn’t going to do any thing new but my muses wouldn’t let me
ignore this. This is my first time dealing with the realm of Devil May Cry.
Please be kind when reviewing. Also this is not beta-read. Any and all mistakes
are mine.
Vocabulary: Coup de grace – (kōō’
de gräs’) A death blow or
finishing stroke
Summary: This is my take of what should have happened
between the sons of Sparda on.
Enjoy!
The titanic ornate dark forbidding doors sealed behind him
as he ran up the open passageway. It began raining as he slowly ascended the
slippery stone stairs.
Rain pelted harder—if it was at all possible—making visibility
low. But that would have been true if he was a mortal. However, he could see
perfectly as if it was a sunny clear day. His rare breeding was a testament to
the fact, among other hidden abilities that he possessed.
He was a half-breed as was the other being
the Underworld.
“You showed up,” the rich silky tenor said over his
shoulder.
Twelve months to the day had pass since he heard the
intoxicating tone. The smoothness of it vibrated down his spine sending
tendrils of want over his skin—like water from a freshening underground hot
spring.
Lank silvery locks shook—he couldn’t think about that now.
He had more urgent matters to deal with. Maybe, just maybe he would allow
himself a brief moment of respite once this was all over.
The new arrival raked in the upright chopped silver hair.
The ankle length blue duster hid the alluring body that he knew was underneath.
“It’s been a year since we’ve last met. Since we…”
He let the last part hang in the air as the other turned
around to face him. Mirrored quicksilver orbs stared at each other. Both froze
as memories from their not so recent past ran through their mind. They knew it
would come down to this. Even though they were alike in appearance, they were
different in what they wanted in life.
One wanted power—the power of the legendary demon, the dark
knight, Sparda.
The other wanted what was right—to keep demons from entering
the human world, but he also wanted his other half back; yet as long as
they were before.
“You sure know how to throw a party. I came all this way and
for what? No food, no drinks, and the only babe just left.”
A guttural growl erupted from the spiky haired young man,
but chooses to ignore the ‘babe’ comment.
Through gritted teeth he replied, “My sincerest apology
brother. I was so eager to see you, I couldn’t concentrate on preparations for
the bash.”
They closed the distance between them somewhat.
(Scoffs) “Whatever. So, this is what they call a heartfelt
family reunion, eh?” A gleaming ivory gun was instantly pulled from back double
holsters. The weapon was spun around on a long slender finger with expert ease.
“How about a kiss from your little brother? Or better yet. How about a kiss
from this!”
The weapon was now pointed at the other who took a step
forward.
“Dante, I-”
“Don’t you, BASTARD!” Dante yelled.
“We don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, we do, Vergil.”
Dante reholstered his gun and
unstrapped his inherited sword, Rebellion, from his back with inhuman speed he
was born with.
the darkness around the brothers. They jumped away from each other as if they
were polar opposites. Their movements were the same—each outward swing, the
other copied in a precise synchronized dance.
As Dante parry, Vergil continue to unleash forceful
offensive strikes.
From a distance, if anyone was watching, they would only be
able to see the quick flashes of light the swords emitted each time they hit.
The brothers were at a stalemate as they grind the blades of their weapons
together in an explosive confrontation until Vergil pushed Dante back.
Dante flew backwards, hitting one of the stone pillars with
a resounding thwack, after sliding to the wet concrete, gunshots echoed across
the night.
Dante watched on in angry fascination as Vergil deflected
the bullets with his katana, twirling it as fast as no human eye could follow.
Clank
Vergil slammed the tip of his blade to the stone surface of
the tower lining up the bullets flawlessly and with a low swing of his sword,
sent them hurling toward his brother. Dante cut the air with Rebellion to avoid
being struck by the live ammo.
The bullets whizzed by detonating behind him in mid-air.
“Why do you refuse to gain power? The power of our father
Sparda?” Vergil demanded.
He was angry with Dante for making him do this. Not wanting to
embrace his demonic side.
Rain continued its assault soaking into their trench coats
and their hair. The water caused their skin shine. Neither took their eyes off
the other. Enchanted by the deadly picture they made.
Dante chuckled as he languidly got to his feet. He was
winded. The fight took a lot of his energy. His brother’s strength slightly
surpassed his, but he wasn’t giving up because of it.
Just to piss Vergil off further, Dante answered, “Father? I
don’t have a father. I just don’t like you, that’s all.”
Another growl escaped Vergil, this time he didn’t cast the
comment to the wayside, and charged, but the younger sibling blocked the on
coming strike and sent Vergil’s sword, Yamato, flipping through the air.
However, the older of the two caught the handle and rammed it hard into an
unprotected stomach.
Stunned couldn’t describe Dante’s countenance as he watched
in slow motion as Vergil pivot on one foot effectively knocking Rebellion out
of his hand and coming back around for the coup de grace.
Rebellion landed a few feet from its owner.
Silence followed—only heavy breathing could be heard between
the two.
“You just didn’t like me, Dante,” Vergil snarled grabbing
onto his brother’s arm and drove his katana deeper in Dante’s abdomen. Blood
spattered on black combat boots – thinning out as it mingled with the rain.
“You loved me…still love me.”
He ran Yamato to the hilt. Vergil leaned into Dante and
kissed him passionately on the mouth and snatched the double folded steel blade
back out.
As Dante fell backwards, Vergil held on to the pendant that
dangled from Dante’s neck, sweeping his hair to its previous gravity defying
state.
Before Dante could recover from the unexpected blow, Vergil
swiftly pinned him to the stone structure with Rebellion.
Looking into disbelieving eyes, Vergil saw the hurt and
betrayal in them. Dante gasped for air—blood spreading about him. Vergil bend
down in order so not to be over heard by Arkham who asked him if he retrieved
the amulet.
“Always remember brother, I will never stop loving you.”
The older half-demon stood by Arkham’s side readying to leap
off the edge of Temen-ni-gru when Dante’s unsealed powers took him by surprise.
Turning back, Vergil was stopped by Arkham. “We don’t have
time for this.”
But Vergil didn’t care. Passion flared in his steel grey
eyes at the magnificent sight of his brother. Dante just had his awakening.
The demon in him was calling out to his—longing to be
complete.
With one last look at his twin—Vergil jumped off the side of
the tower promising himself to recapture his lost love, his only love, his
brother…Dante.
A/N: Well how was it? Was it bad? I would love to hear from
you. Any suggestions and comments are welcomed.
Nemesis