Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction. I write it for fun, not to try and please everyone who could possibly take anything and everything I write the wrong way. I've done my research, homework, and whatever, and I rightly don't care if what I do is considered right or whatever, it's based on what I know from the Devil May Cry universe.
Warning: Before you even consider continuing to read, please note now that I am an avid writer of things pertaining to adult content, which includes explicit scenes of sex, be it man on man or man and woman. If you have anything against either of these, please stop reading, and for goodness sakes quit looking in the M rated stuff then.
Considerations: Due to the fact that I've now been chewed-out by two different writers for things beyond my abilities or for simple fan-fiction fun, please note the following before reading.
In this world of my story Vergil is alive and works with Dante. He is also
If there seems to be anything wrong with this story, for any reason, don't put it in the reviews. PM me first so I can see what I might have done wrong before you criticize me in front of the rest of the world. And be specific, I can't correct it if your vague about what's wrong.
Now then, if this hasn't gotten the story kicked off the site, we shall begin.
I Think I've Said This Before
Vergil was unimpressed. Dante was sitting there, at his desk, eating a pepperoni and extra cheese pizza, and downing his umpteenth beer. The cans were strewn across the floor, showing that this particular binge had been going on for a while. There were also a dozen pizza boxes strewn about, two of which had olives in them because someone got the order wrong.
"Pizza and beer again?" Vergil asked. He started cleaning the room. While he and Dante hadn't always seen eye-to-eye, he regarded his little brother as a rather competent person. At least where combat or snide remarks were concerned. Housekeeping was something entirely different, it seemed.
"What's your problem?" Dante asked. He tossed the empty pizza box to the floor beside him and opened the one underneath.
"You're going to get fat." Vergil chided, putting the cans in the recycle bin. The pizza boxes found their way into the bin beside it, and Vergil sighed. At least it was better than when the two had been at each other's throats trying to kill each other. After Dante had defeated him while he was under Mundus's control, Vergil had woken on a seaweed covered beach, the waves cresting at his waist and the awful smell of dead washed up fish assaulting his nose. He'd wandered for a while, trying to piece things together, until he'd found Devil May Cry. He hadn't known what to expect; it certainly hadn't been the bazooka-toting bitch that had greeted him at the door. But Dante had told her to back off and had let the pathetic Vergil into the office. Vergil hadn't managed to get two words out before falling to the floor, sick. Dante had cared for him, nursed him back to health, and had apologized for losing Yamato, Vergil's precious sword. Vergil in turn asked Dante to forgive him for trying to kill him, and for what he'd tried to make Dante do.
That had led to their first night together. Dante had experience, having been quite the playboy in his teenage years, while Vergil hadn't known anything in the ways of love aside from what he'd read in some of Mundus's cheesy romance novels that had fallen their way into hell. May those books stay there and never scar humanity again. But it was a night now forever engraved in Vergil's mind as the night he'd finally made things right with his only remaining family.
"Will not." said Dante, shoving a whole slice of pizza in his mouth.
"Will so." Vergil countered. "That's your tenth pizza in seven hours. Not to mention all the beer."
"Liquid bread." said Dante. He downed the last of the can and tossed it at Vergil. "It's good for you."
"Don't go quoting that song again." groaned Vergil. It happened every time Dante got drunk, which actually took a lot to do. But every time, Dante would end up slur-singing 'the Beer song' by Weird Al until he fell over, unconscious. The only bonus was then Vergil just ruffled his own hair so it hung flat like Dante's, wore Dante's coat, and would do the Devil hunting until his brother was sober again. Sadly, because it took so much beer and alcohol to get Dante drunk, it often took two to three days to get him sober. But, work still got done.
"What's your problem?" Dante asked.
Vergil picked up several notes that had been left by Morison. "How about the fact that we haven't gotten a decent Devil Hunting job in days."
"Lady's in town, and so's Trish. Of course there are no decent jobs left."
Vergil tried to place Lady. "Oh, Arkham's kid." He sighed. He would never be able to atone for what he'd done to her, and Lady always made sure to remind him of that. He'd made old wounds surface, not only for Dante, but for that girl as well.
Dante tilted his head. "Something wrong, Verg?"
"I think I need to sleep." Vergil stepped forward, only for the room to seem to pitch around him. There was pressure on his back and legs, and for a moment, Vergil thought he was falling. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact with the floor. Only it didn't happen. He looked, surprised when he saw Dante grinning at him. "You bastard!" Vergil shouted. Dante had picked him up again like some princess.
Dante grinned. "Thank you." he said. He put Vergil down on the couch and tossed an old checkered blanket over his brother. Brushing Vergil's hair back into its characteristic spikes, he went back to his desk. Glancing over, he noticed Vergil had actually fallen asleep.
He looks so vulnerable when he's asleep, Dante thought. He knew better, though. He'd tried at least twice to get at Vergil's pale body while the other slept, and had gotten kneed in the groin on both accounts for it, as well as slapped in the face once. No, it was better just to leave Vergil alone, let him sleep.
Looking around, Dante noticed he had yet to clean up the weapons he'd earned on his last hunt at Lady's request. He'd had to go against some wierd group that worshiped his father, Sparda. Something called 'the Order'. There, he'd met another half-breed by the name of Nero, another 'Child of Sparda', as some of the members had put it. At any rate, Sparda's blood did flow within Nero, somehow, and the boy had been the one to manage to put the shattered Yamato back together. It had taken a lot of work, and guts, to go against 'the Order', and their oversized statue of Sparda that had almost destroyed the town. Now, Nero held Yamato as its keeper, and the boy was trying to help put the town back together. He hadn't told Vergil about the sword, initially, but when he had, Vergil had been understanding. He'd said that the sword was probably better off with Nero than with him, that he was actually more comfortable using Rebellion or the new sister sword for it, Retribution.
Dante sifted through the items, trying to figure out where to put them. Gilgamesh had long since become a favorite for its ability to break almost any object, bar his own thick skull. Dante grinned, remembering how Vergil had regarded it at a piece of twisted armor initially, until Dante had worn it for one of their Devil Hunts and had bashed right through the huge demon like it was nothing. He still could clearly see Vergil's stunned face. With a smile, Dante placed the weapon on a rack he'd dug up. It looked like it was made to hold the armor.
Sifting again through the pile of junk, he found Pandora. He raised an eyebrow. It had been fashioned after the Pandora's Box, and as such had to be treated carefully. The six-hundred-sixty-six modes were all useful, but Dante had had more than enough trouble with it afterwards, when it would try to open. At the moment it was being held shut with a series of belts just to make sure nothing happened. Something for the closet, probably. He tucked it up on the upper shelf, somewhere he knew he'd find it if it was needed, but also somewhere out of the way.
Turning, his eye fell to Lucifer. Ah, the spike-thrower, and his most favored of the three weapons he'd gotten on that mission. He picked it up, looking at the face on the shoulder-piece, the part that attached when one was using it. The rose was a nice touch to something that otherwise looked like it probably should have been worn by Mundus or one of the higher up demons. Dante sighed and put it up on the wall.
There was the somewhat gratifying sound of Vergil falling off the couch, and Dante realized that part of his brother's problem might be the fact that the pair hadn't had any 'romantic' activity in almost two weeks. Try as he might, Vergil couldn't really deny that his life was more complete now that he and Dante were 'mates', as far as Demons went. Besides, Dante was starting to become increasingly aware of the large bulge in his own trousers, which were his only clothes at the time.
Vergil struggled to get out of the blanket, so he didn't notice Dante slip behind him until his pants went missing. He looked back, startled. "Dante, what are you . . ?" He paused, seeing the evil, lusty grin on his brother's face. "Oh crap."
"First, I whip it out!"
"What?!" Vergil asked as he was pushed over. This had to be another of Dante's drunken moments.
"Then I thrust it!"
Vergil tried to hold back a scream as he was invaded. Not that Dante hadn't gone straight for sex right away without preparation before; it just hurt when he did.
"With great force!"
Vergil's eyes almost crossed as Dante began to move quite vigorously. It had to be a drunken moment, it just had to.
Dante adjusted himself. "At every angle . . !"
Vergil whimpered as his prostate was hit. "Dante . . ." he whined.
". . . it penetrates!"
Vergil wasn't sure now if it was the alcohol or Dante's overactive imagination that had caused this.
"Until, with great strength, I ram it in!"
Vergil's eyes went wide as Dante came inside him. He felt like he was going to vomit from the sheer volume and Dante's depth in his body.
Dante grinned. "In the end, we are all satisfied."
You call that satisfaction? Vergil tried to turn his head towards his brother as Dante withdrew.
"And you are set free."
Vergil collapsed to the floor, cum running from his posterior. "I hate you sometimes, Dante." he groaned. He reached for the blanket to try and save what dignity he had left as the front door opened. He could hear Dante grunt as he did up his pants. He was so going to get his brother back for this. That next pizza he ordered was going to have nothing but olives on it.