Reflective Qualities

-o0o-

It was old and musty, dust swirling up in clouds when he slammed open the ornate doors. No telltale clacks or hisses broke the silence, just the creak of leather boots as he strode into the spacious room. While it was a welcome change from shrieking marionettes doing their level best to detach his head from his shoulders, the lull in activity made him feel...uncomfortable.

As if to confirm his suspicions, a flash of movement to the right brought his arms up and tensing to grasp Ebony and Ivory’s textured grips, whirling them out to aim -

- at himself.

A wall length mirror, still faultlessly depicting every hard edge of light and softly clouded shadow, reflected back his own handsome visage. Not a speck of dirt coated the smooth surface, clear of any cracks or tarnishes and a blunt contrast to the decayed hangings and crumbling walls in the rest of the castle.

Narrowing his eyes, he glared at the mirror a few more beats before turning to inspect the rest of the room.

Cobwebs hung thick from tapestries covering the walls and layers of grime coated the aging furniture, yet still it held a certain...elegance.

Mostly, he admitted, due to the lavish canopied bed dominating the left side.

Dante slowly approached. It truly was an impressive centerpiece, draped in heavy satins and topped with plush ruffled pillows. Trailing a hand along the smooth coverlet, he wondered whether the original inhabitants of the castle had ever returned to claim the ornaments and treasures spread through the castle.

Like he gave a damn. Shaking his head, he traced his way back to the door to finish the mission.

The fragile sword from the stairwell seemed to pulse against his side as he approached the weeping statue, letting off a faint heat when it drew to arm's distance. He easily hefted the blade, regretfully eyeing the jagged edges before slamming it home into the opening at the base of the pedestal.

Small clinking noises came from within the bust and a round object fell from its gaping mouth, making a sharp thud on floor when it hit. He let a cocky grin slide across his face.

Jackpot.

As he bent to retrieve the softly glowing sphere, a trickle of cold danced down his spine.

Behind him, Alastor crackled in warning and he felt his grin widen into a smirk as he casually straightened and turned. Nothing seemed out of place, no sudden burst of attacks from the walls or claws sprung from the shadows. It was still and almost…peaceful. Deceptively so. He’d only just finished the perusal when another chilling pulse directed his interest to the mirror. Dante glanced over in time to watch his doppelganger in the glassy plane match his actions, movement for movement...before offering a tight smile of its own while smoothly stepping through the mirror.

Dante snorted and spread his arms. “So… the devil finally decides to show himself. What’ll it be- one on one? Another herd of stupid puppets to hack through?” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Where’s all the originality gone?”

The other figure remained silent during its approach, ignoring the formidable weapons at Dante’s side and not yet reaching for its own.

He amended his initial statements. “Now this," he mused, watching his replica stalk closer, "I was not expecting."

There was just something… weird about watching himself, identical down to the jingling silver buckles and flashy red coat, sauntering forward across the room. The few demons that could change shape enough to mimic human form had been feeble imitations, easily identified as replicas before he slaughtered them, but this one was another class entirely… He let his gaze trail over the lean hips and thighs before wandering back up to the chiseled visage, punctuated by an elegantly raised eyebrow. Not, however, without its benefits. It didn’t stop until their bodies nearly touched, chest to chest, never breaking focus from Dante.

“Then…” it finally murmured, reaching out. Even the voice held his same husky timbre. “I suppose you’ll just have revise your plans.”

Gloved hands traced almost delicately along his jaw line to fist in his hair, lingering over the longer fringes before slowly drawing him forward into a languid kiss. Dante tasted leather and sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood as the other's tongue caressed his mouth. He moaned and slid his own hands under the shifting leather to feel the taut muscles underneath, drawing a shudder from the other figure before he was shoved back against the wall.

As he leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, feeling soft breaths ghost along his throat, he whispered a name he'd fervently not spoken for the past five years.

Vergil.

When he next managed to force his eyes open, icy blue eyes, so like and painfully unlike his own, regarded him with flickers of challenge well hidden beneath a calm façade. His brother- brother, god, it had been so long - looked even colder and more distant than their last meeting. For all the warmth of Vergil’s hands and mouth, they might have been carved from the same pale marble as the statues guarding the castle. Skin shaded with the color of frost pressed against Dante’s tanned cheek and drew his attention back to the cool stare.

As always, Dante was the first to look away.

Unlike before, he lunged forward to grab his brother and slam their mouths together in a hard, bruising kiss. He felt a brief jolt of triumph when Vergil tensed with surprise and Dante didn’t even bother offering token complaint as his favorite shirt and vest were roughly grasped and ripped open.

Between moans and gasps, Dante managed to breathe out, “Nice as getting felt up by myself was… I wondered when you’d drop the charades.”

Derisive grunt. "I was beginning to worry, dear brother -" Kiss and a delicious shock at hearing that word "- whether you recognized me."

Teeth clicked and leather clad bodies ground together in the muffled silence of the room. There was a blunted edge of desperation in the way their hands roamed and caressed and above all refused to let go as, bit by bit, clothes and armor were carelessly tossed to the floor. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the sumptuous bed and he laughed and pulled Vergil down with him as he fell. Spread over the silken covers, Dante reveled in the sensation of their slick bodies twisting around other, sparking little thrills of desire with each deliberate and stray touch. Somewhere during the jumble of limbs and kisses a hand slid down past his stomach and Dante’s world sharpened in a burst of intense light. He clung to awareness beyond the pulsing heat seeping through him enough to reach out and try to reciprocate. A fast blur of motion and he found himself pinned against headboard with Vergil’s shoulders trapping his legs down and apart. Then Dante watched as his brother gradually, deliberately, took him in mouth

Wet hot magnificent mouth

and he was lost.

Chest heaving, he mindlessly snapped his hips and clawed at the sheets, desperate for some contact, some grounding as the scorching licks along his shaft drove him higher and higher into oblivion. Sweat beaded and trickled down his forehead, leaving silver hair clinging limply to flushed skin. His pulse raced wildly and each pounding beat seemed deafening. One last hot suck nearly brought him arching and screaming, his thighs straining with the effort of forcing his hips down.

He refused to look down the line of his body. Refused to see those glacial eyes roll towards him and offer a mocking look as that perfect pale mouth slid up and down.

“E-enough.” He groaned and dragged his brother up for a breathless kiss. Vergil left a trail of slick burns in his wake.

“Well, brother, what now?” Teeth grazed his neck and none so gently nipped at his collar. Dante bit the pale shoulder above him in retaliation and admired the set of bloody marks left behind. “More of this?” And he hissed as elegant fingers lazily curled around his length.

“You’re such a –nggh- tease… Just shut up and fuck me.” The last words ended in a hitched breath when those same fingers casually squeezed and stroked. Distantly, Dante could feel the soft mouth pressed against his own curve into a smirk. It felt like the hazy rush right before Devil Trigger, when the world grew dark and crimson.

“So demanding… But I can do one better.” He couldn’t tell if it were a threat or a promise. Another flick of the wrist that sent spikes of almost unbearably strong

but never quite enough

sensation coursing through his veins told him that he didn’t really care. He felt Vergil shift above him and unhurriedly lean back, staring down with bruised lips and a sheen of sweat coating his skin. Dante ground their hips together once more to watch his brother’s usually closed expression twist with raw emotion. In the backlit glow of the room, he looked almost ethereal. His own heavenly devil.

The irony was not lost on him.

He might have grinned and spoken the thought aloud to see his twin growl with irritation. Would have- if Vergil hadn’t chosen that moment to rise up and slowly sink down onto Dante’s straining cock. Any half-formed words he started to mouth strangled in his throat. He dug his heels into the soft mattress and let his hips buck forward into the tight heat with an unfettered gasp, mirroring his twin’s sharp moan as his fingers bit into Vergil’s thighs.

Yes…

They moved without haste, sharing slow deep kisses and sure caresses between them. A keening whimper, a burning lick along his throat… This… it had been so long. So long since they’d come together, so long since they’d met in a duel beyond that of hatred and violence. Vergil rode him leisurely, mercilessly, and held him close when he came with a startled cry. Then gently lapped at Dante’s spilled essence, creamy white dripping on his thighs, before coating his fingers and working Dante back into writhing arousal.

The exquisite burn of Vergil finally pressing into him, hot and hard against Dante’s back, and the beat of his heart, perfectly in unison with Dante’s own, made Dante squeeze his eyes shut and bury his face into the pillow. Lean arms as strong as steel gripped his shuddering body in place as Vergil slid in and out with that same unhurried rhythm. Each controlled thrust was met with ragged breaths and a backwards jerk of Dante’s hips and he was drowning in the crushing tide of heat that ignited along every nerve ending.

Pressure built with every touch of Vergil’s lips against his spine, every stroke of intertwined hands against his front, into a maelstrom of pure lust threatening to tear him apart. Dante couldn’t tell which hushed groans and murmurs belonged to him or his brother in face of the almost painful stimulation flowing through his body and pooling deep in his groin. One particularly deep plunge, still a measured frustrating glide of flesh against flesh, brought dark spots dancing in his vision and he chanted Vergil’s name as a both a prayer and a curse. When Vergil at last began the forceful pounding that Dante yearned for, Dante arched his back and howled his pleasure into the dusk. A hand released him long enough to fist in his hair, bringing sparks of pain that underlined the pleasure, and twist his head up for a biting kiss that he offered without restraint. The slick tight squeeze of fingers around his cock from the front and the relentless fucking from behind brought Dante to a blinding, snarling release.

Vergil

Forcing his eyes open through the aftershocks still racking his body, he caught a glimpse of his brother’s face tensing before Vergil lunged forward to bury his face in Dante’s neck. The sound of his brother gasping out a name

Dante

and stiffening before he felt a hot rush deep inside caused a different type of release entirely, of an ache low in his gut that never before really eased.

They stilled for what seemed an eternity, panting together in the ruins of bedcovering. Vergil lay stretched and half sprawled over him, a comforting weight that Dante hadn’t felt in years. A haze seemed to settle over his thoughts, muting any urges to leave or fight and leaving him content to remain entwined with his twin, trading quiet touches between them. Still, little whispers flitted in his mind, drawing from old hurts and grudges that still tore at his heart. He shifted, managed to roll just enough so he could see Vergil’s face, who looked back with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile on his lips.

Leaning down, Vergil carefully licked away the tear tracks marring his face. Dante didn’t realize he’d been crying.

He fell asleep with a soft kiss pressed against his cheek.

-o0o-

When he later drifted awake, pushing up through forgotten dreams, his clothes were all in place and no sign of his brother remained. His weapons were neatly stacked on the floor. Dante rolled off the unmarked bed and grasped Force Edge in one smooth movement.

After adjusting his holsters, he turned to exit through the large terrace doors (still, he noted, streaming with daylight) and continue exploring the castle. A fleeting sparkle by the entrance halted him and he slowly walked towards the mirror before halting and kneeling in front of it.

There, in a splash of silver and red against the faded wood, was an amulet.

He reached up to grasp the one still encircling his neck. Inscribed on the back in flourished writing was his own name. He picked up the other jewel and didn’t bother turning it over. He already knew what it would say.

A smile twitched onto his lips and grew into a wry grin. Straightening, he ran his fingers over the amulet once more before tucking it securely into a pocket and tossing one last look at the dark mirror.

Dante brought a handgun up and saluted his reflection before striding with a casual swing of his hips towards the balcony.

His likeness echoed his movements until Dante leapt from the railing into the courtyard below. Then it blew him a kiss and disappeared.

-o0o-

A/N: I think this was my first smut scene. *tear*