The boiling water burned down Vergil's pale, towering physique. His demonic muscles flexed and relished in the burning liquid spouting from the shower head above him as he stood motionless, washing away the fatigue and ache of a thirty eight hour shift at the hospital. He stretched his hands above his head as it sank, letting the stream of water douse his hair and scalp as he watched the tiny droplets accumulate at his tips and fall the shower floor. Vergil's hands moved with purpose as he quickly grabbed some shampoo, lathering the liquid into froth and running his fingers through his hair, scratching and grinding the dead skin on his scalp and rinsing them away with the rest of the dust and germs that collected in his silvery locks. The foam tickled down his back as he reached for his blue anti-bacterial soap; he never trusted the bacteria hidden between the layers of supermarket sponges and loofahs, so he opted using his hands – he was a doctor; he would eradicate the dirt and grime with minimal effort. He massaged the tension in his shoulders and popped the taut muscles in his neck; he moved across his chest, pinching at the tight skin between his abs and smirked to himself – fuck was he sexy. His smirk melted from his face as his hands rubbed lower and lower, caressing the familiar bumps of his hips; Vergil's sensitive fingertips grazed up and down his thighs, biting the corner of his mouth the closer he got to his special place. His left held his weight as he positioned himself directly under the hot water, encircling and clutching his base. The water allowed his skin to soften on contact, and he began slowly pumping his length: he cooled his head on the tiles under the shower head and let the stream fall on his back, pooling at his feet before journeying down the drain to no man's land. His arm now on autopilot, his demonic fangs bit deeper on his wet skin drawing blood that dribbled down his chin and neck as he forced faster and harder thrusts upon himself, bringing him ever so close to his impending orgasm. The demon shut his eyes and a guttural moan escaped onto the walls of the bathroom, echoing in time with the glassy sex liquid seeping out of his erection, one last pull nearly bringing the big man to his knees in ecstasy. He shook the musk from his head – both of them – and continued to rinse the rest of the soap off his frame.
"Oh god, where's Dante when you need him?"
Vergil stepped out of the shower and seized a piece of material barely big enough to be called a towel from the drying rack. Standing in front of his vanity, he placed the towel over his head and forced it to soak random water droplets from his hair; he then preceded pulling funny faces at himself and pinching his cheeks to bring some life to his pale skin. After five minutes and no luck, he resorted to his usual boring routine of brushing his teeth and clothing himself in the tiniest piece of pyjamas his brain would locate in the shortest amount of time. His enthusiasm for a well-deserved sleep was brought to an abrupt end when he remembered the box filled with books in his study he promised himself he would unpack as soon as he got home. Granted, he made the pledge with the knowledge of a twelve hour shift and not the thirty eight it dragged out to be, but the obsessively compulsive demon embedded far deep in his cerebral cortex screamed for it to be done, and he was left with no choice. He would never fall asleep with the box still sealed shut, and his shoulders sagged at the delayed process of much needed slumber.
Throwing on a pair of loose grey sweatpants, he thanked his lucky stars his study was right next to his bedroom; his temper still flared as he sprouted his claws and ripped the box to shreds having no patience for the stupid industrial strength tape that covered every inch of the flimsy cardboard. He was much nicer to the contents as he picked them up carefully and placed them on his gigantic pine desk, taking a small two-step ladder and moving to his enormous shelves in a futile attempt to create space for his new pieces.
After ten minutes, he glanced back the desk to find progress was being made. A smile engulfed his face as he decided upon coffee as his reward for a job-so-far-well-done, but it dissolved to thin air when his phone rang and he saw a less handsome version of his face stare back at him. Vergil contemplated letting it go to voicemail, but his guilty conscience pushed his legs toward it, answering one split second too late. He mentally made a note to check his brother's message when he finished his coffee, but the thought was short lived when his phone rang a second time. Dante never called twice.
"What is it, Dante?"
The reply came from a voice that wasn't his brother – it was younger and lighter in tone, but drenched with anguish. "I think something is wrong with him."
A chill went down his spine at not hearing his brother's voice, but what harm could really befall a half demon? "What do you mean, wrong?" Vergil warped to his desk and impatiently snatched a pen waiting for a reply on the other end. "You have to be more specific, Nero." He barely knew Dante's most recent obsession, but he had to put his trust in the younger man to tell him why he thought something was off. It was cute that he cared enough to make the call to Vergil, and he felt guilty for giving him crap for the past four years. According to him, no one could and would ever be good enough for his brother, and because of Dante's previously poor choices in partners, Vergil decidedly gave up on the idea that he would settle down and have a family of his own. He had no idea how, but this very phone call was starting to change his mind. It could be the fatigue talking though.
He heard Nero take a deep breath before speaking. "Okaysolastnightwecamehomefromdinnerandweren'ttiredsoweputonamovieandendedupdoingallsortsofstuffandhewasdeadtiredandIwasn'tsoIfiguredwecouldtrysomethingnewbecauseitsoundedlikeagoodideaatthetimeandheagreedtoitandheseemedtobeenjoyingituntilthismorningbecausehe'snotmovingandIhavenoideawhyifthisismyfaultIsweartogod-"
"Nero, calm down. Breathe, please." It troubled Vergil that he had not sensed anything emanating from his brother in the past couple of hours, but then again he was so busy at work he had no time to worry about anyone else other than his patients. It was, however, still very odd that this supposed occurrence hadn't piqued his radar – he was used to knowing things about Dante before he did. "What exactly is wrong with him?"
More lungful's followed; at least Nero was calming down. "He can't move." Slight desperation laced his answer. "He's not dead; he's breathing and has a pulse, I triple checked-"
"Dante's entire body can't move?" That was highly unlikely. From what Nero was saying and what Vergil interpreted, it was downright impossible.
Vergil could feel the heat radiating off Nero's cheeks. "No – just the bottom half."
Okay, so his hunch was right – the doctor couldn't help but smile at the predicament of his brother as he concocted relentless banter and insults to flung Dante's way. "Where is he now, at this point in time?"
"Upstairs. I think he's sleeping, hold on…" He heard a hand move over the mouthpiece. "Yes, I can hear him snoring-"
"It's difficult to miss, Nero. I can hear it and I'm on the other side of the city." Vergil grinned at the light-hearted giggle tickling his ear. "Look, I think I may know what's happening, but I'd like to come over and take a look. And talk to you alone, if that's okay. Dante won't be open with me about his sexcapades and I know I can trust you to give me enough detail to piece this puzzle together for a proper diagnosis. Well, it's not much of a puzzle if it has two portions, but I would hate to miss anything and mistreat him. Would that be fine?"
"Please. I will have a fresh pot waiting for you."
Vergil ended the call and moved to his medicine cabinet, locating a small plastic cylindrical container lined with foil; he peeked at the contents and nodded to the volume inside, noting it should be enough to last Dante a good forty eight hours. He packed it along with his notepad and pen into a stylish black satchel and opened his wardrobe for something half decent to wear. Most of his clothes had shrunk on his figure owing to his gym sessions and improper eating habits: his best bet were a pair of black sneakers under black tracksuit pants, a cotton white V-neck t-shirt and a thin black trench coat covering most of his outfit. He opted for a scarf to take over the role of his missing hair to cover his ears, but the weather deemed it unnecessary. He left his apartment and climbed into his car, speeding down the freeway to aid his seemingly injured sibling.
Nero leaped to his feet as he heard a car engine die at the front door; the machine purred under strained ears and he immediately knew the Lamborghini was outside. Vergil had made the purchase during his fifty sixth mid-life crises, but Nero would be lying if he said it wasn't sexy as hell. It wasn't so much the car as it was the person behind the wheel and it suited the doctor very well; elegant, straight-laced, gorgeous, potent, shy yet demanding, sharp edged and sharp witted, it shrieked professionalism and whispered lust at each corner it took. Nero drew the curtain back to view Vergil gracefully removing himself from the driver's seat: the people in the street turned their heads at the car and gaped at its owner, rushing to take out their phones for quick snaps of the vehicle. The secluded town had little to do for entertainment and the car seemed to become a tourist attraction in the seconds it appeared. He saw Vergil smirk as he secured it, walking briskly to the front door. It was ajar and he saw the younger demon stare back through the gap, postponing a distraught look of grief for when the door slammed shut. There was no reason for alarm given Dante's DNA, but the expression on Nero's face broke his heart. The boy was genuinely scared for his boyfriend. Vergil dropped his satchel closed the gap, enfolding Nero in a tight hug – he returned by nuzzling into his strong chest, wrapping his arms around Vergil's waist and entwining his fingers in the small of his back. His irregular breathing caused Vergil to hold him tighter, allowing his fear and sadness to melt into his chest. "He's going to be fine, Nero."
He nodded against his ribcage and held Vergil close. "Thank you for coming."
"Don't thank me. Thank my body being desperate enough to drive all the way across town for a cup of coffee." He rubbed Nero's back and welcome vibrations graced his fingertips. At least he was laughing. "And speaking of coffee, it smells divine."
"It's hazelnut. I know it's your favourite. I have to hide the grains from your brother so he doesn't drink it up before you visit." Vergil caught himself staring at Nero as he peeled away from his frame to prepare the coffee. He couldn't help but watch at how much love and passion the smaller man had for Dante. In one way he was a little jealous that he didn't have his own adorable coffee maker, but proud that this was one of the better decisions his brother had ever made. He snapped to reality at the sound of two mugs being placed on the dining room table; the cup was piping hot, just the way Vergil liked it, and he finished half of the liquid goodness in one sip. He would never be so brave as to claim his addiction, but at least it wasn't anything bad…right?
"My apologies. It's been an awful day." Nero agreed with a curt bow of his head and sipped carefully at his mug. "From what I can tell, it's not serious. It doesn't seem like any part of his life or health will be impacted in any way, and the medicine I have for him should give him spring in his step by tomorrow." The man next to him physically relaxed at his reassuring words. "But as I've said, you need to tell me everything that happened from last night up until now. The stuff I have is pretty strong and I need to know that what it's treating is exactly what Dante is experiencing." Vergil replaced his empty mug on the table and his host excused himself to refill it. He stood and retrieved his bag from the other side of the room and extracted his writing material. Nero returned with another mug filled to the brim and evidently readied himself to reach into his memory and start from scratch. Looking at Vergil, he skewed his face.
"Since when do you wear glasses?"
Vergil pushed the spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. "We are old men, Nero. At some point in time, we have to show our age in some manner. It's just for reading, nothing fancy." The titanium-rimmed goggles brought out the crisp blue in his eyes. It didn't make him look old at all – he filled the shoes of a chiselled doctor and rightly so. It was peculiar how human they portrayed him, and it was a bloody fantastic sight.
"Okay. Now start from where you think things went wrong."
Dante was breathing irregularly next to Nero. The younger man was coming down from an explosive orgasm at the hands of the man lying parallel to him. There was a welcomed burn between his legs as his muscles contracted to resume their normal shape without the fierce thrusting, and his erect penis soothed back to its flaccid state. Nero snaked his hands downward and took hold of Dante, still stiff from his onslaught a few moments ago, and mildly stroked his length frantic for another round; he could feel remnants of his previous release amalgamating in his belly and he needed to let it all out. Now.
"Sorry kid, I'm beat. Don't you want a break? You screamed my name into next Tuesday, ya know."
It was true. There was no way the neighbours at the opposite end of the street didn't hear him shriek his lover's name. He loved it when his body bent to Dante's will and he went to town between his legs, not a care in the world of what may come out of Nero's mouth. If it was loud, it was good, and he used those signals as reassurance to plunge into Nero harder and faster with no remorse. The other side of things was that he would be utterly exhausted after three hours of a constantly changing pace, and it was at this moment when he craved to simply lie on his back, shaft happily pointing north and catching some well-needed oxygen.
"We could try something else?" Nero was unforgiving when it came to round two. Because the walls inside him were fucked raw and the inflamed flesh stood on their nerve ends, he grew accustomed to louder, deeper and throatier moans, sharper intakes of breath, and screams that vibrated against the kitchen walls within a five metre radius. His prostate was made more sensitive owing to Dante's relentless thrusts, and he would cry for his mate to make him bleed in ecstasy.
"Like?" What was Nero up to?
He released his grip on Dante's penis and crawled over his big frame, each leg residing on either side of his mouth. "Suck. Make me hard and I'll show you." If there was one thing Dante would never get tired of doing, it was sucking the glossy sanity out of Nero's body. The demon gripped the headboard as his boyfriend took him into his mouth, engulfing his penis in saliva and moving it with ease along his throat. Dante's hands spread Nero's ass and located his raw opening, nipping his fingers at the raised flesh. "Oh fuck, just like that." The boy above shifted his position and slid out of his throat, assigning his bringer to work its magic on his shaft to the next stage of rigidity. Dante pulled him to sit on his face, his thick slippery tongue invading the man overhead; it was too much for the demon to handle and he struggled not to lose control from above. "Dante, don't make me cum. Please." The slick appendage slid out of Nero comfortably as he refocused his lust on the tired demon, progressing to the end of the bed where he took position at Dante's entrance, squeezing a syrupy thread of precum from his own seeping erection and spreading it on and around his mate's entrance. It wasn't nearly enough for the job, so he snatched the strawberry lube off the nightstand with his bringer; Dante could not have taken a better opportunity to gaze at him, and he watched Nero sexily grip his penis and drop a line of lube from a distance above his head that landed expertly along his thickness. Capping and throwing the bottle over his shoulder, he worked the goo over every inch of his penis, sucking at a fruity digit generously for Dante's attention.
Nero expanded the space between Dante's limbs and pushed his thighs upward, exposing the taut skin around his holy place. He rested his body weight on Dante's legs pulling the skin tighter and simultaneously immersing his head into his boyfriend: above, he threw his head into the cushions and wrapped his red talons around the spokes in the headboard. His control dwindled as Nero pushed deeper in his constricted heat, Dante's back arching to support the newfound incursion overwhelming his frame.
"Only a little bit more, then the fun can begin." What? The man on his back mustered enough strength to look at his lover: there were at least two more inches he had to get through, but Nero wasted no time in driving the rest of his length deeper into Dante. He slid his body closer and fortified the grip on his legs, garnering the withering frame below. Dante enclosed at the wood when he felt Nero slide out and ram into him at an envious speed: the brute force of the motion shook the bed upwards and the wood of the headboard banged against the concrete wall on which it leaned, crushing his talons between the two materials. He had no option but to move from the comfortable position and his attempt to rethink a new one was squashed by Nero and his pulsating erection mimicking their previous movements inside him. Dante gripped at air for the following dozen thrusts, trying to support his contorting bulk under the intensity of what Nero was doing. The smaller kept his head down, biting trenches into his lip as he watched his penis fuck Dante – it was insane how good it made him feel, knowing the empty and high-pitched whimpers coming from his lover's lips were owing to him and him alone. Dante covered his face with his enormous hands to mask a deep moan from his stomach; he bit down on his knuckles as his eyes rolled back in his head, scrabbling at whatever he could find. Fuck, Nero was deep. The pace of his thrusting didn't help the bigger demon either. He looked to his left and clutched at the soft pillows at his head, tearing at the covers and ruffling the feathers within. More obstinate ramming and Nero felt himself coming close to his orgasm; Dante proceeded to arch against the pillow on his chest wherein he embedded his deadly fangs. Drool was flowing out the corners of his mouth as he battled with Nero's thrusts to close it. Tears stung in his ruby eyes from the pleasure he was experiencing and felt a strange sensation along his length – not once had he ever come without any form of contact, and his penis ached to be touched. It was at that exact moment that the man below hindered his activities, sliding himself to rest within Dante's cavity. "Why are you hiding from me?"
"I don't want you to see my face."
"Why?" When no reply came from below, Nero picked the pillow out from under Dante and the feathery mess spilled all over his torso. Dante was genuinely having trouble breathing as evident with the improper movements of his torso. He moved up his body and held his head in his bringer; Dante had tears streaming down his handsome face and Nero's heart sank; he pulled further and Dante was in a sitting position, limply composing himself under his boyfriend's scrutiny. "I can stop if you want."
Dante met Nero's cerulean blues and kissed him fiercely, reaching for the back of his head and deepening the encounter as much as their mouths would allow. "Don't you dare fucking stop!" He continued swirling his tongue in and around Nero's mouth, sucking and biting, using the urgency to depict how badly he needed this. Dante dragged his teeth along Nero's lower lip, whispering into his mouth. "Make me fucking scream, Nero."
He cocked an eyebrow challengingly; he pushed Dante into the bed and his bulk bounced violently against the crimson sheets, flinging his lifeless frame into position to await Nero's oncoming performance. Bending one knee on the mattress, Nero held strongly onto the other, extending it against his body and coarsely thrusting his body forward, stretching unfathomably deep into Dante. Nero sensed untouched flesh at the tip of his penis, and he knew he hit the jackpot. Dante no longer controlled his inhibitions and implanted his body into the mattress, growling fatally at the top of his lungs. It was music to his ears and he sustained his actions at an intoxicating pace, ensuring the concealment of his length burrowing into new territory deep inside his lover. For the first time that night Dante was beginning to crack – he had thrived in watching Nero experience the joy of his actions, but not once had he bargained turning the tables and crumbling at Nero's will.
The man below switched his position as Dante's walls became thick and raw against the nerves and veins pulsing inside Nero's member: he was perfectly perpendicular to Dante and fell forward, encasing his thighs between his own and his arms. Forward thrusts drove Dante's legs wider at the pressure, providing Nero with more room for movement. Finding his sanity once more, Dante caressed his arms lovingly; Nero was dangerously close and gritted his teeth on the final strokes inside his lover. Unexpectedly, he found himself groping Dante's sex and pumped in time with his thrusts, syphoning every last bit of cum inhumanely out of his body. The muscles at Dante's entrance constricted deliciously around Nero's base as he came pugnaciously, the rest of his body shaking out of control, his lungs expelling a violent rush of air that formed the scream Nero was waiting for. His hips continued to jerk hysterically as Nero laid his body flush on Dante, showing his appreciation to the pale, tasty skin at his neck. The bigger demon moaned in resistance and wrenched Nero's head to face his own. Dante seductively drew his lip into his mouth and got drunk at the taste. "You're so fucking perfect." He crashed their lips together and kissed for the rest of the night.
Vergil attentively scribbled notes all across the page in front of him, never taking his eyes off Nero's face. He removed his glasses and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Please know that everything I am about to tell you cannot be repeated to Dante, for the pure sake of scaring him into never wanting to do something like that with you in the near future." Vergil was in doctor-patient mode. "As far as I understand it, your sexual relationship has been one sided for the past four years. By that, I mean he has taken the reigns as the giver and focused less time and effort on being the receiver, correct?" The younger man was intrigued with how their dynamic somehow had an adverse effect on his mate. "With that being said, his body had grown accustomed to yours as the giver. Any action or incident negating that mindset would be rejected by his human and demonic side. They are permitted for the purpose of pleasure seeking, but too much at one time overloads the senses and causes the body to go into a dazed shock in order to recover from a so called 'attack' on its usual state. He didn't reject you or want to reject you per say, but owing to the anomaly of the routine you had fostered for such a long time, he got used to not being penetrated. Because it had never been done before, the brutality of the 'attack' juxtaposed the intense desire he felt, and his body was in foreign territory. It allowed for him to enjoy it now and pay for it later." Vergil emptied his second mug. "In the plainest of terms, he never expected you to do what you did. He… Ummm…"
Nero lifted his head when the doctor didn't continue. "What? What is it?"
Vergil smiled. "Dante heavily underestimated your size. You went too deep too quickly."
Nero's eyes altered from the size of grapefruits to almonds, covering his mouth to stifle his impending laughter. The doctor across the table cleared his throat to conceal his humour, but their eyes met and they snorted in their closed mouths, not wanting the hilarity of the situation wake the sleeping beauty upstairs. "That's it? I'm too big for him?"
Vergil released the last of his chuckles before he got serious with the boy. "I wouldn't say that; he just wasn't prepared properly." He rose from his seat and went to Nero's side. "If I may check something on your side, I can prove that it won't be a long term issue." He pulled Nero to a standing position in front of him – the strength in the small action made Nero heavy between his legs. "Do I have permission to touch you?"
"You're a doctor, Vergil-"
"I know, but I ask all my patients the same thing. Plus, you aren't exactly a patient, and if my brother heard I fondled your junk without your say so, death is not a mercy he will grant me." Vergil speedily released the stiffness of Nero's jeans and unashamedly dipped his hands into his underwear. Not making any progress in the current position, he rounded the elastic and moved the pieces of clothing to rest under Nero's posterior. Vergil's professional soft caresses made his legs weak and he clutched on the doctor's shoulders for balance: he freed Nero's member from its soft confines and massaged around his hips, feeling the taut muscles under his touch. The younger man thought about the most horrific thing he could think of as his breath hitched in his chest with Vergil methodically stroking Nero's shaft. "I need you hard, Nero. You don't have to fight it."
He was embarrassed by his initial arousal, but Vergil wasted no time in working enough blood downward to his erection. Nero got lost in the moment and uttered a cheeky 'fuck' under his breath. Damn, he was really good at this. Vergil, being the wicked demon he was, continued to pump life into Nero's appendage as he nuzzled into his neck. "Who do you think taught Dante to do it?" The image of Dante flashed beneath his eyelids. "Shit. I should've mentioned him sooner." His solid penis was held firm by Vergil and he tapped away at one specific area on his underside; Nero was unbeknownst to the spot he assaulted and felt a surge of electricity travel through his nerves. Vergil kept a keen eye on him and was happy with the result. He took one hand off his shoulder and guided Nero to that spot. "Do you feel that?"
Nero forced himself to concentrate through the haze. "What am I-"
"Just relax; you have to tell me when you feel it so you know what to look out for next time." His fingers pinched at Nero's tip. "You're feeling for a protrusion of sorts, like a very hard vein along the entire length, and ending right here." The hand on Vergil's shoulder moved to the back of his head as Nero required more assistance to concentrate on finding what he was describing. He clasped at a tuft of Vergil's hair as his fingers located what seemed to a thick tube-like protrusion along his length. It throbbed under his touch as Vergil grabbed Nero's forearm and pulled forward, tracing it all the way to his head. "I guess you found it?"
Why had he never noticed this before?
"Don't panic, it's new. Just as I said earlier, weird things happen when you introduce things of a certain nature to the body, especially if it houses a separate entity like a demon. This was your way of coping. I don't know why either, but this is a normal occurrence between male mates. Now when we go up there, I'm going to look for a similar indentation inside Dante. It might take a while to find, but it will be there." He looked perplexed, and Vergil explained further. "It's comparable to a lock and key: one opens the other in a perfect fit. In this case it's the body's way of telling you to not give up hope and not to stop fucking the shit out of my brother."
The pair stalked up the stairs coffee in hand to check on Dante; Vergil entered first, pushing the door inward and gazing upon the red cloudy mess that was his brother. Judging by the way the covers hugged his physique, his legs were spread wide beneath the sheets that pooled at his hips. Dante seized a fluffy pillow in his embrace on his chest where it rose and fell to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His face was smothered in cotton, his mouth gaping to accompany his noisy sleep. It was less audible when he lay on his side, but that was a luxury he couldn't afford at the moment. They stood quietly at the door watching the demon at peace – the crinkles in Dante's face dissipated as he addressed them from the bed. "You just gonna stare at me? I mean, I know, I fully get it, but you can at least say hi to your little brother."
All the fatigue Vergil had cumulated over the past day dissolved when Dante threw the pillow at him, a glowering smile enhancing his already devilishly handsome features. Nero grabbed his cup from below his grasp and motioned for him to be at his brother's side. "Boy, don't you look amazingly terrible."
"You kidding, Verge? With a face like this I can make anything look good." Dante reached for his brother's hand and held it against the sound beat of his heart. "What are you doing here? Looks like you worked yourself to an unnecessary pulp last night."
"Nero called – he said you were in a bit of trouble." Vergil's other hand stroked Dante's cheek worryingly.
He leaned into his brother's mild touch, enjoying the contact after being without it for so long. "He's lying. I'm completely fine."
Nero was wounded. How could he brush off something like this? "Oh really?" Dante's mate warily set the coffee down and lifted the covers and clawed at his inner thigh creating deep enough incisions that made other demonic deities wince. He let Dante's blood coat his fingertips. "Then what did I just do?"
Dante was indifferent – he hadn't felt a single thing. Nero watched as the wounds healed themselves, but it took a long enough time for him to notice a deep cut in the most sensitive area of his leg. "Did you poke my knee?"
"Try again." He kept his hands under the tent Dante's legs had constructed.
"Did you break my leg?"
"Again."
"Did you tickle my feet?"
"Again."
"Did you 'accidently' bite my balls?"
"Again. And for the record, that was an accident."
Things were getting nowhere slowly. Dante had too much pride to openly admit there was something wrong with him. Nothing like this had happened before and deep down inside his psyche he was absolutely terrified on what the result really was. He played it off jokingly like it wasn't a big deal. What he had running through his mind and what was actually going wrong were opposite sides of the same stick, and he imagined admitting defeat as a way of solidifying that fear; it was very far-fetched, but Dante thought in extremes. His actions were calm and cool, but he forced his body to counteract the whizzing conclusions spiralling in his head. "Fine, I'll bite. What did you do, Nero?"
The demon raises his blue talons dripping in Dante's blood. "You didn't even feel it. So much fucking blood and you didn't feel a thing."
Dante searched his brother's eyes for consolation. He caught Vergil staring at Nero's blue claw with fear and his typically calm demeanour phased to dread. Dante squeezed tighter on his brother's hand begging for answers to what was going on. His mind went into overdrive once again as he loosened the grip on his brother, encasing his face with his hands. Boy, did he fuck up this time – his luck had to run out sooner or later. "Be straight with me Verge. Am I dying?"
Vergil tenderly grazed his shoulder. "Far from it, brother. My instincts tell me you've just started living." He gaped at Nero and saw him blush an adorable cherry red. "This will be on the Christmas card I send to you for the rest of eternity." He removed the plastic container from his jacket pocket and showed it to his brother, calling Nero to join them at the bed. "This is a soothing agent. It's highly flammable when in contact with oxygen, so please be quick when using it. Every six hours, pop one of these bad boys between your legs and let it dissolve into your skin. I recommend going as deep as you can; if not, place it on his entrance and hoist him up. Gravity will do the rest. You have about five seconds each time, so make sure everything is ready to go by the time you remove it from its neutraliser." He checked to see if they were still with him. "I'm entrusting this to Nero. When you start to get feeling back, it's going to burn like a bitch and you will probably stop taking it altogether."
Vergil steered Nero to the base of the bed away from Dante's view. He opened the container and held a globule of gel between his fingers where it combusted to flames almost instantaneously. He popped it back in the liquid housing the rest of the medicine. "You have to be really quick. The gel will melt on contact, but make sure it doesn't catch flame." The doctor lifted the covers and a shocked squeak came from the bed. "Dante, suck it up for once." The younger brother didn't enjoy his nether regions being so outwardly exposed to Vergil, but it's not as if he had a choice. He couldn't stop him even if he wanted. Nero followed Vergil's instructions to the tee and the first application was a success with no random bed sheets catching fire. "Seeing as he can't feel anything…" He took Nero's hand into his own, guiding his finger to a thinning channel travelling in a straight line along Dante's cavity. "See? Nothing to worry about."
They left Dante to rest and made their way to the lounge. Vergil packed his amenities back in his satchel and faced Nero with a seriousness only the devil could muster. "Please watch the rascal. Give him twenty four hours minimum bed rest. He might feel better after a few doses, but please insist that he stay where he is. It is imperative that the medication runs its due course so the two of you can continue with… whatever on earth last night was. Owing to the anaesthetic, he will get on your nerves a bit, so I ask you to be patient with him while he recovers. And don't fall into his trap: no sex for three days. He will turn the charm on full blast to get what he wants, so don't fall for it. Be strong, and think with the head on your shoulders. Only homemade chicken soup for now – everything else might cause a particular reaction to some of the chemical agents hidden inside the gel. Did I miss anything?" His face twisted in contemplation. "Probably. Call me any time you need anything. You have my number."
Nero nodded. "Before you leave… just give me a minute…" He left Vergil standing along in the living room for a couple of seconds, returning with a massive gift bag and a cooler box. "This is not how I imagined it to go, but ummm… Happy Birthday." He placed the cooler box and gift bag at Vergil's feet. "Don't get your hopes up, it's nothing fancy, but I know you've been wanting it for a while, and we had some extra money come in the past couple of months."
Vergil started at him for quite some time. "Is this really for me?"
"It can only be for you, Vergil. Come on, take a peek."
Nero nervously twiddled his thumbs as the doctor dug into the gift bag and beheld a jar of blueberry hair gel. The bag was big enough to house eleven more similar jars, and Vergil erupted in ecstatic laughter. He replaced the jar and opened the cooler box to find thirty tubs of Rocky Road flavoured ice cream in his favourite brand, and Vergil couldn't contain his excitement. "I can't believe you remembered that. It was so embarrassing."
"It was all I had to go by. I hope you like it."
Vergil was in shock at the thoughtfulness of the gift. Nero must really care for Vergil to go to such extreme lengths for a birthday gift. He wished to see the looks on people's faces when he reached the cashiers with the weirdest fetish combination in tow. The gesture was heart-wrenching, and he knew Dante would never be in more capable hands to be looked after. For now, and for the rest of his life. "I love it. I really do, thank you Nero."
"Just don't confuse them, okay? It's bad enough you're irrevocably irresistible, you can't waltz around smelling like ice cream as well."
Nero made his way back up the stairs to his bedroom. The steady breaths coming from the bed weren't close to being deep enough for Dante to be asleep, so he made no effort in concealing his footsteps to be at his side. The demon was staring at the ceiling: one hand slipped contentedly behind his head, the other lightly grazing the exposed skin on his chest sultrily rising and falling with the intake of oxygen, his eyes void of feeling and emotion and a numb expression diffused his facial features. He kept his eyes on the nothing he was staring at, but held a hand out for Nero to take when he came close; he lay on his side next to Dante, interweaving his fingers in the hand behind his head. The bigger man held his hand similar in the manner he held Vergil's, and Nero fell deeply in love with balanced pulse.
He kissed his cheek tenderly and remembered how lucky he was to have someone like Dante. Their relationship was far from perfect, but it was the ideal relationship for both of them. No other-worldly force had the strength to pull them apart; the love that they actively fostered over their time together resided in a different dimension far from anyone's reach. Dante twisted his head to face his love and their lips were lethally close. "You know I love you, right?"
Nero placed his forehead on Dante's, searching his beautiful blue eyes and finding the depths of his soul. "You know you've never said that before?"
"I know, but you know I do, right?" The sparkle in Dante's eyes was too spectacular to ignore; it was almost as if the love he had for Nero sparked an unknown flame deep in his heart that only the waters of the underworld could extinguish. The smaller man reverently kissed his boyfriend, mounting his frame and sinking deep into his mouth. "You know that I adore you, that you're everything to me, and that you mean more to me than you could ever imagine, right?"
"I do. And I hope you know it's the same for me." They kissed one last time, and Dante lost himself between Nero's lips. They mutually unlaced their fingers and held one another's jaw, feeling and caressing the movements against their mouths as they struggled for a more profound kiss. Nero forced himself upright, tearing away from Dante's fervent tongue. "I'm sorry, but I have to buy ingredients for chicken soup." He shook the residing lust from his head; now of all times was when he needed to focus. "Vergil doesn't trust takeout."
Dante bobbed cutely, but held his grip on Nero. "I was gonna do this yesterday, but…" The demon took a shaky breath and reached to his dresser drawer, pulling it halfway and playing with a piece of plywood obscuring a hidden compartment. He chuckled at the sound of something light falling into his palm; he enclosed it deep in his hand as he closed the drawer, hiding whatever it was from Nero's view. He sat patiently as the lying man took another breath and crushed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips, wiping at the miniscule puddles accumulating at the corners of his eyes. Dante cleared his throat and revealed a tiny red velvet box; upon opening it, Nero stared at an awe-inspiring black plated titanium steel ring – his eyes went from Dante's face to the ring in the style of the most fascinating tennis match imaginable. He jaw fell as the realisation dawned on him as Dante grabbed his left hand, kissing the ring finger.
"I don't know how to do this, so just say yes or no."