Title: Cuts and Pet-names
Rating: PG-13
Realm: Devil May Cry
Pairing: None
Characters: Dante, Vergil
Genre: humour, brotherly love/hate
Warnings: A bit of language
Word-count: 820
Summary: Of fighting and an incident that never again shall be spoken of.
Notes: I was inspired to write this by Phant0m, with whom I spoke of why Vergil always is nicknamed 'Verge' and 'V'. Also inspired by Nerosredqueen's 'School Ties And Blood Ties.'
Dedication: to Phant0m.
"Owww! That hurts!"
Vergil threw his brother a sharp look before dipping another wad of cotton in disinfectant and pressing it against Dante's split eyebrow, the other hand tightly held against Dante's neck to keep him from jerking back in pain when Vergil tended to him.
"It is your own fault for arguing with Mike Weathly."
Dante growled and fought to sit still, but he still squirmed where he sat on the narrow cot in the nurse's office. "But c'mon Verge! He was pawing at Lisa!"
Lisa Mortaigne, or, little miss I-wanna-be-a-cheerleader, as Vergil privately referred to her as, was Dante's latest love-interest. Dante would fawn over whatever girl he was interested in, trying to act cool even though he always behaved like a complete buffoon, and then he would get himself into brawls because someone tried to show a bit of interest in whomever he had claimed for himself.
"It was still idiotic to attack him, especially with his cronies nearby." Applying a small band-aid to the cut, even though they both knew that by morning it would have healed enough that it wouldn't show, Vergil moved on to the next injury. They had on an early level learned that their superior healing abilities wasn't something that the common person had, and that it was better to put up pretences than to show what was really there.
"Why can't you choose your battles with a tad more concern? Acting like this will only end up with you like this."
Dante only grumbled, shrugging his shoulders and turning his head away, to which Vergil's hand shot out to grasp Dante's chin, putting it back to look straight ahead so that his access to the injuries wouldn't be obscured.
"I'm not like you, Verge. We've always done things differently. If I wanna beat up Weathly then I do so, end of story. I'm not letting him grope my girl unpunished."
Vergil sighed inwardly, wondering for the gazillionth time why he even bothered with helping his idiot for a twin. "I am not saying that you shouldn't beat him up. I am only suggesting that you should wait until he's alone and vulnerable, and when it cannot be traced as easily back to you."
Dante stared at his twin, but Vergil paid him no heed, just holding a hand back from Dante's forehead to dab at a nasty-looking cut at Dante's hairline. Sometimes, Vergil felt that his twin was generally stupid. Why not wait until the perfect opportunity to strike down your foes?
"Verge, it doesn't work like that in reality, y'know." Vergil said nothing, just briefly glanced at his twin, one eyebrow raised. "You gotta show 'em that you're not scared, or others will bring you down later on. You have to live in the moment."
Vergil didn't reply to this, only finished bandaging the last cuts and bruises, then standing up from where he'd kneeled, brushing off his clothes. Their mother would probably have a hissy-fit about that Dante once again had gotten himself into a fight, but Dante had never once seemed to care about it, he just acted as if nothing and moved on with his daily life.
"That might be the cause," Vergil finally said. "But it is still going to lead that all you do is fight. And then there will be nothing left but fighting for you. What kind of life is that, really?"
Dante shrugged and grinned impishly. "It sounds like fun."
Shaking his head to himself Vergil moved towards the doorway, pausing and turning to look his brother in the eye.
"By the way, will you please refrain from calling me Verge or any similar atrocious nicknames?"
Dante's grin turned positively feral as he rose and adjusted his rolled up sleeves, the rest of the school uniform already in a sad shape. "And call you what? V? Virgin? Vivi? V-kins? Violet?"
The names that Dante listed were actual names that he, during their past thirteen years, had used on various occasions to either show his appreciation or to annoy his sibling (mostly annoy, though). Dante had, however, always gotten back to use Verge, claiming that Vergil looked and felt like a 'Verge'.
Vergil's jaw tightened fractionally, and if Dante hadn't paid attention he wouldn't at all have seen it, because Vergil collected himself almost instantly.
"I'd prefer Vergil, thank you very much. Or would you want me to address your more girly side, 'Daisy'?"
What Vergil spoke of refrained to an incident involving Dante, alcohol, a very pink dress, singing and dancing, and a few high-quality photographs of the whole ordeal.
Dante blanched.
"You wouldn't!"
A grin, almost frighteningly similar to Dante's own, stretched across Vergil's face.
"Oh I would, dear brother, I would." He paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Do we have an agreement?"
Slumping his shoulders in defeat Dante nodded, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets.
"Fine. Vergil."