Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.
This is a gift-fic for Shae Enspira: we've been betaing each other's stuff and trading bunnies, so I offered her one and she requested this. This is also dedicated to Nemi the Nen, who I RPed something like this with. I miss you!
AU: what if Vergil had defeated Dante and then succeeded in defeating Mundus?
"Let me go, you bastard." Dante glared. It was endearing, really. What could he do, chained to the wall with devil-forged bonds? Yet still he fought. Stupid, obstinate… Dante all over. Father had picked a good name for him: enduring, everlasting.
But Vergil's name meant strength. The unstoppable force and the immovable object? "Not yet." Vergil smirked and kissed him.
Now he was emperor his father's kin had come out of hiding. One of them was working to call Sparda's soul out of his Devil Arm. He, Vergil's uncle as humans reckoned it, had taught him what he should have learned at his father's knee.
Now he had mastered his senses, and he could feel every emotion that flashed through his chaotic twin as Dante opened his mouth to bite Vergil's lips.
Feel how much Dante needed him, as much as he tried to deny it. As much as Vergil had kept him away in disgust over Dante's refusal to accept his heritage. But now Vergil had won, and he had no need to deny himself anymore.
He could hear the moan that slipped out of Dante as Vergil's warm red blood trickled down his throat, as his foolish little brother kept his mouth open to allow Vergil's tongue access only to bite down again.
For a moment Dante regained enough control to use his own tongue to push out Vergil's, and Vergil drew back, displeased.
Dante growled, spitting out the last of the blood. Vergil watched a drop trickle down Dante's chin, and couldn't resist darting forward to lick it up. "Son of a bitch," Dante cursed, and now Vergil growled, their mother the last thing he wanted to be reminded of now.
He darted forward, biting Dante's neck savagely and gorging himself on the warm red blood, Dante's color, his Twin's blood, what was his and what he always should have had. To the victor went the spoils. He and Dante had always fought, it was natural for Twins. Vergil had won. By the code of devils, Dante had to submit to him now. Cursed human blood that allowed him to resist.
But he wouldn't be able to resist forever.
Dante was moaning again, head falling forward instead of struggling helplessly to push Vergil off. His body betrayed him, Vergil could see: he didn't want Dante in human clothing here, and only when Dante had seen reason would he have armor made for him for when Dante was unable to take proper devil form.
Vergil drew back a little, nipped Dante's ear, and gave him a few slow strokes. "Bastard," Dante gasped, writhing against the chains. "Let me go."
"You keep saying the same thing. Let you go where?"
"Back to the human world."
Let Dante go back to those humans? Would he rather spend time with them than with his own brother. "Why? I rule here now. We rule here. Go back to where we are despised when we should be exalted? We are gods to humans. I'm not letting you keep disgracing our Father's name, Dante. You belong to me now." A hard stroke to emphasize his point, and Dante gasped.
"I'm not a slave!"
"You're a defeated devil. You. Are. Mine." Each word followed by a nip as his hands worked. "My twin, my own. You'll have a throne beside mine, and we will rule here." Wasn't that a beautiful image? How could Dante resist?
"I'm a human, you're…" a moan. "Human, Vergil. This was our father's home, yeah, but it's not ours. I hate it here!"
"You haven't given it a chance." The only part he had experienced was helping Vergil fight Mundus and then imprisonment. How could he hate being with Vergil?
Dante's face was beautiful, lust and want rolling off him in waves as hard as he tried to deny it. "S… Ah!"
"My obstinate little brother." Vergil kissed his cheek. Dante was ruled by his human emotions. This… physical method that Nevan had advised was wearing him down much more quickly than reason. "You understand now, yes? I did everything for us, and the power we should have had."
"You killed them, bastard."
"I didn't. They chose to die for you. It was their own foolishness, Dante. If you'd just joined me… but now we will be happy together. A family again. Isn't that what you want?"
Dante wanted. He was so much more a child than Vergil was.
"If you care about me why are you keeping me chained like an animal?"
"Only until you understand, Dante. Only until you won't run away. I doubt you would be able to find your way back to the human world, and there are still enemies out there, devils who envy our power and would use you to hurt me. I don't want you to suffer anymore, Dante." He let his soul embrace Dante, and even if Dante could only feel it imperfectly he still shuddered and cried out from the bliss of it. Vergil smiled at the expressive face, so like his own and yet not.
He liked Dante's lack of control at times like this.
"You're molesting me. Your own brother." Such strength of will! Once it was used, tempered with Vergil's wisdom, this whole world would cower before them. Perhaps they could even bring peace to earth. The Vie du Marlians were already overjoyed that the gods granted miracles again in the name of the new Emperor of Heaven.
"Dante, I've told you that's a human prejudice. For us, this is right. Can't you feel it? Don't your instincts cry out for me?"
"…bastard." Even Dante was too much a devil, too honest to deny it.
Vergil lifted a hand to tangle in his hair, pull his brother to him, kissed him fiercely. Be mine. Give in, he whispered in Dante's soul. We'll be together forever, strong and unstoppable.
Dante wanted it, Vergil could taste it. At least he wasn't entirely ruled by his feelings. Though a mind clouded by human prejudices was even worse.
But Dante was silent now as Vergil touched him, save for the noises Vergil drew from him.
As Vergil adjusted the chains so Dante lay on the floor, Dante watched him, eyes showing his inner battle.
When they were one, Vergil licked away a sweet tear and knew Dante cried for the final defeat that was soon to come.