Assassination's note: Gosh...I don't even know. It was really early and the first two paragraphs were like a broken record in my head before I decided to scribble them down back in December. (Yes, I decided to post this here now.) Then this short, horrible, monstrosity happened. Though it's also kind of/sort of a 'relationship study' of sorts. You'll see what I mean when you get to it.
Quick note before I really leave this to its fate: the implied sexual content is like...skimmed over faster than you can blink. My friend told me they didn't see it as worth a Teen or Mature rating, but this is FANFICTION so I'm not gonna risk it. Heaven forbid I post something with no explicit stuff and get my head bitten off because it didn't seem worth an M.
Vergil kissed briefly, as softly as you please. He kissed like it would most likely be the last one he'd give. Walls still in place but giving this one moment of vulnerability.
Nero kissed hard, rough and long. Like molten fire trying to thaw ice. He kissed like he meant it, branding Vergil's lips with his own. With everything he had to give.
Their sex practically resembled their kisses and personalities. Vergil may hand over the reins, but he held tight and fast to the other end. Still in control despite letting Nero take him so intimately. But Vergil always had the final say. Always. Nero never tried taking full control. Never wanted to, really. They had a system and it worked. There was no point in fixing what wasn't broken, after all.
He could cup Vergil's face with his Devil Bringer and knew, without a doubt in his mind, that Vergil wouldn't flinch away like many others had before. Knew Vergil was never repulsed by his 'disfigurement.' He looked at Nero like they were the only ones that existed in the whole world. Like Nero was perfect, not a single flaw in sight. He'd turn his head, brush his lips along the scales and would occasionally sink his teeth into the meat of Nero's palm. Vergil would always run the flat of his tongue over it afterwards in a silent apology for the pain they both knew never came from the bite.
And whenever Nero triggered, Vergil would stare in wonderment, reaching out to caress Nero's face in the tenderest of ways. Not once afraid to reach for the devil. He'd touch him without reservation, like Nero was a priceless statue that only Vergil has the right to have.
It made Nero's heart swell. It made him look at Vergil as one would a God, utter devotion and adoration. He loved Vergil with all he had, gave over all he could offer without hesitation and the same was given in full.
