Author: Moiranna
Title: The Noblest of Quests
Theme: #25 - Devotion
Rating: PG-13
Realm: Devil May Cry
Pairing: Vergil x Dante
Characters: Dante, Vergil
Genre: romance, humour
Warnings: incest, language, shameless smut, the author has a cracky sense of humour
Word-count: 837
Summary: It was funny. Even after all this time Dante wasn't fully sure just how Vergil got into those sinfully tight trousers. Perhaps it was time to find out.
Notes: Written for infcrnalking at tumblr under the prompt "show some skin - Bending over in tight pants, showing off dat booty"
Their liaisons were an irregular yet always recurring thing. Like two opposites drawn to one another to clash in a never-ending battle of violence and sex, essentially tearing one another to shreds and then puzzling one another back together. Funny enough Dante never felt quite as alive as he did during these times.
Much like a lazy cat Dante preferred to lie in bed and save clean-up for later despite knowing all too well that it was better to get it over and done with now. But what with the sheets already half-torn and bloodied he figured it could wait a while longer, just soaking in the moment before returning to the harsh reality that was their chaotic existence.
Eyes flickering closed for a few moments, the gurgling of pipes a clear indicator to where the elder twin had disappeared even though Dante could have guessed that without much difficulty. Even now there were routines. Not that Dante would let that ruin the peace and quiet that for once occupied his mind, instead content to let his mind drift, eyes wandering aimlessly, eventually coming to rest on a pair of familiar patterned trousers neatly folded on the drawer, because even in the heat of everything Vergil had the time to fold his bloody clothes. A soft snort through the hunter's nose at the absurdity of it.
There was a fleeting thought running through Dante's mind as he gazed at them. How on earth did Vergil manage to move in those without breaking them in half at the slightest movement?
And furthermore, how the fuck did he manage to get into those? Now, Dante had been around long enough that he knew just how to get Vergil out of them, but after all this time this was a mystery that had yet to be answered. There and then he decided he had to figure it out, to put all of his investigative skills to the test. A noble task if any.
The familiar tread of feet just outside the door had the hunter closing his eyes and further slowing his breath. Not that he for a second thought that his brother would believe him asleep, no that was one thing they never did around one another, but a light doze was not something unthinkable.
Cool air signifying the bedroom door opening and closing and for a few moments he could feel eyes resting on him, quite aware of the picture he painted, half covered in sheets, debauchery quite noticeable both in the air and on him, bloodied nail-marks and bites healing sluggishly. There was the faintest of hopes in Dante that Vergil would decide to come back to bed, could practically hear the thoughts running around in his head as he considered it, well aware of that there would be a different kind of struggle than before they'd both entered the room several hours earlier.
The rustling of clothes told Dante however that the elder had decided not to join him once more. Pity. White lashes fluttered open slowly, finding that Vergil had turned his back to him while getting dressed, and Dante found himself captivated by the sight, peculiarly intrigued by how erotic he found it to see skin marred in bruises and marks disappear behind patterned snake skin trousers. Never before had he paid it any real attention but now it was as if he couldn't look away, mouth dry. Oh, so that was how he did it. The thought distant and amused, not missing that it took longer than just pulling them over narrow hips.
Dante's brain might have short-circuited a bit when Vergil bent over to step into his boots, the delectable shape of his ass and how those trousers sat as if painted on. An approving rumble of a sound might have left his throat unbidden, hunger once more waking at that sight. Strike that last, the hunger was truly never quiet whenever the elder twin was in his proximity, but it was more prominent now. But just the particular curve of that ass had him half tempted to either just tell the other to stay that way so that he could just stare for a while longer, place a few bites on each cheek and definitely grope it even though it would earn him at least a scowl, probably something far more violent.
Mentally he made a note to later take a picture of that sight, but not right now. Now it was more about pulling Vergil back to bed, not in any way deterred or bothered by his twin's snarled "what do you think you're doing?" as he yanked Vergil back by the hip. That became rather apparent as the hunter showed his considerable know-how in removing the offending garments, and while every encounter between them ended with some form of bloodshed this one included no swords, only not-so quiet worship. Never spoken out loud but privately agreeing on an old argument of theirs; Vergil definitely had the better ass.