Wait, I'm coming undone. Irate, I'm coming undone. Too late, I'm coming undone. What looks so strong so delicate?

Wait, I'm starting to suffocate. And soon I anticipate, I'm coming undone.

What looks so strong so delicate?

"Bastard!? FUCK you, Vergil, fuckin' FUCK you!" Dante snarled, the smile leaving his face completely as he dropped to his knees, getting in Vergil's face, his weight RESTING heavily on the blade embedded in his twin's stomach. "Don't you fuckin' GET IT? Torture ain't just this, this ain't NOTHIN' compared to the SHIT I went though when you left, you ain't got a damn IDEA of what you leavin' DID to me!"

He TWISTED the blade, sneering as he did so, not seeming to care about the SCREAM it wrought from the other. "Pinhead? Angry CHILD? What about YOU? Huh!? You're the one with all these stupid ass fuckin' ideas about power, world domination, and you say I'M the fuckin' KID? How fuckin' DARE you!?" He twisted the blade again, almost DELIGHTING in the screams. "You don't have a fuckin' RIGHT to judge me after what you did! You LEFT me, Vergil, just walked the FUCK away, and didn't even look BACK!"

He moved away when Vergil started throwing up from the pain, the anger leaving his eyes, the veritable storm-cloud above his head dissipated. He was trembling, harshly, and he backed even further away, his back hitting the wall behind him finally, his legs giving out, sending him sliding to the floor with a hitched sob. "You don't GET it... half a FUCKING year, Vergil--Six months of fucking pure ANGUISH, pain and SUFFERING, all because of YOU. You LEFT me, somethin' that never shoulda happened, but you got alla those damn IDEAS in your fuckin' head, and off you went, leavin' ME behind, leavin' ME to be nothin' but a broken fuckin' mess, wondeirng if you were gonna come back or NOT." The blade clattered to the floor next to him, having been removed as he retreated across the room.

Vergil's eyes were dulled in the agony, as he looked to Dante in a sort of awestruck utter horror.

"You're...crazy..." His voice was a broken ruin after the screaming raw, his nose running small rivers of blood from the massive stress, throat thick with bloody mucous. With a rattling cough, he spat out clotted gore, and this time, he was careful to not lick his lips.

"Dante, you--really--hurt me--please-- what's happened-- to you--" He needed water, his lungs were burning, everything hurt so DAMNED much. When Dante had TWISTED the blade inside him, bright sparks of pain had exploded in a clarity he hadn't thought possible. His thigh was wet, most likely blood--he was soaked in it, drenched, sticky with it. Vergil's body struggled to heal itself, succeeding--but--

it wasn't blood on him, down there.

He had come, and not even realized it, when the second twisting had happened, the shrieking horror had masked the deepseated, utterly SICK physical bliss.

And so began the second part of their relationship.

Choke, choke again.

I thought my demons were my friends.

Pity me.

In the end,

They're out to get me.

Dante looked over at Vergil with dull, clouded eyes. "Crazy? Fuck, I am, I know it... but YOU started it. You...you don't GET it, you HAVE to get it!" His voice was choked, clogged with tears, closing up tightly because of the restraint it took to keep from letting the tears fall. "It's your fault, it's MY fault... we're both sick, fuckin' twisted SICK freaks, and this just fuckin' PROVES it." He could smell the underlying scent of semen under the blood. He shook his head at that, not even mentioning it.

Since I was young, I tasted sorrow on my tongue. And this sweet jerky gun, does not protect me.

His eyes slid closed as he shifted, moving across the floor once again so that he could sit next to him, one hand reaching to tangle in the sweat-matted white locks that fell so haphazardly across the pale, heated face. "Damnit, Vergil...just.. why can't you GET that you HURT me?" The fingers tightened, pulling harshly on the thick white hair.

That all you GOT?!

He heard the faint whisper, his eyes snapping open as he stared in shock and anger at Vergil. "...You just don't know when the FUCK to stop, do you?"

That's right. Trigger between my eyes. Please try, make it click now.

Violet eyes took on a deep hint of crimson, his fingernails elongating into deadly claws as he tilted Vergil's face up to look at his, hoping the older one could SEE the rage in his eyes. His teeth bared, fangs elongating as he spoke in a barely audible hiss. "Two can play that game, Vergil. You wanna be a stubborn fuckin' bastard, I can be too." He reached his other hand out to the JUST barely healed stomach wound, gouging it roughly as he waited to hear the screams.

"Wonder who's gonna break first."

Wait, I'm coming undone. Irate, I'm coming undone. Too late, I'm coming undone...

What looks so strong so delicate?

Wait, I'm starting to suffocate. And soon I anticipate, I'm coming undone.

What looks so strong so delicate?

Pain blossomed up in raw starbursts behind his eyes, but Vergil fought back the desire to plead for mercy, something that was extraordinary in itself for him.

Dante's now clawed fingers were sinking inside the hurting wetness of the now reopened wound, sinking in deeper and deeper, and then--there was a spectacular cataclysm of pain, as those wicked claws flexed inside, the sensations almost unreal in their magnitude. His voice failing him, hoarse and used up, Vergil made a strange wailing sound of pure demonic misery.

"Dantestopstop..."

Vergil wasn't really SURE he could take this, it was getting too wild, too severe, and even his nerves were starting to shatter and break now. And yet in his madness, in the insane rut of hellish punishment, he heard himself whisper sharply to his brother, driving him on, seeing--

how far they could go.

How much farther could they go, what could he TAKE? What could Dante take doing to him?

Had to know.

Had to find out.

"dante."

"you."

"fail."

Gasping for the breath to hurl his own death warrant, or what would nearly be.

"When does the torture...start dante?...when...will you show me...what you got...is this the best...you can DO?...always knew...you...didn't have it...in you...weakling..."

Mind racing, Dante let out a growl and twisted his clawed fingers around Vergil's insides. What was his brother THINKING? Was he really inciting this? Was he SERIOUS about making Dante go even FURTHER over the edge than he already had?! This--this WAS insane, and they couldn't STOP it!

"You--I-- ARGH, Vergil, just shut UP! GODS, why can't you DO that?! This would all be DONE with if you could just keep that BIG mouth of yours SHUT." He withdrew his hand and eyed the blood running down it, down his arm, dripping off onto the floor. Tentatively, he licked at it with the long tongue, his wings rustling behind him as he tasted the thick, coppery tang. Suddenly, his eyes shifted BACK to Vergil, and his hand was replaced with Alastor, the blade digging deep once again. "You want more? You're gonna GET more."

He grabbed Yamato as well, and thrust the blade into the pale chest, though THAT blade was pulled out just as quickly and laid to the side, his hand reaching into the wound to gently caress the rapidly beating organ within the ribcage. "I could KILL you with one small movement... but I won't." He smirked, teasing at the aorta. "You don't deserve death...it wouldn't be right to kill you when you didn't kill me... you just simply HURT me... and demon law IS an eye for an eye, it wouldn't be FAIR to kill you when you didn't kill me."

Vergil DID, at least, shut up now--for now--because when Dante's hand replaced the agony of the cleaving blade, something happened, something seemed to well up in his chest as the heart was actually TOUCHED--actually stroked--by what was essentially his soulmate for eternity. And it would CHANGE Vergil forever, in ways so deep he would not even be aware of them.

The touch.

Oh god, he's touching my heart, in the most literal way possible--it feels--

feels--

A sudden and almost surreal detonation seemed to happen, Vergil's long body shaking convulsively as Dante held on with that gentle grasp, clawed fingers tenderly caressing the most vulnerable of all organs, the life-seat, the hard pumping giver of mortal incarnation. It was unbearable, but it was not pain. It was, really, the very opposite of pain --a pure and polar OPPOSITE, on all levels.

It was not even ecstasy, though it was of that ilk--it was farther along the scale of experience and sensation. Much farther, much mightier.

Vergil's entire body arched upwards slowly, in the thrall of not a physical but a SPIRITUAL, a SOUL orgasm, a climax of the inner being, the true seat of his consciouness and being itself. There were no words, no SOUNDS to express such a thing, only the look of utter rapture, the eyes blazing, the lips opening silently and then closing--beyond the realm of the mortal, beyond all at this moment.

How long it lasted, he did not know, he knew nothing at all at first. Dimly aware that Dante was still there, but he could not see, nor could he hear.

All was radiance.

All was peace.

Out of the bloody horror, had come the greatest and highest experience of his existence. Vergil would never be the same again, and nor would anyone in his orbit.

When Vergil's body started to tremble; then convulse, Dante waited just a moment, stroking the nearly FRANTICALLY beating organ still, before he backed off a bit, his hand still inside, idly running long, clawed fingertips over the soft, slick muscle. He was fascinated by what was happening to his brother, crimson eyes half-lidded with lust-laden interest stared at the shuddering body, a faint feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure and sensual eroticism in the very back of his mind making his own body tremble slightly, though he had NO earthly idea of just how much his brother was feeling at that time.

What struck him the most--really, it nearly stunned him stupid-- was that despite the look of sheer pleasure on Vergil's face... his lower half was surprisingly devoid of any fresh coatings of sticky release. In fact, he CRAVED the feeling that his brother was obviously enjoying, his body yearning to KNOW what it was that had made this exact moment so damn GOOD for his twin.

Leaning forward, he used a claw to unlock the shackles containing his twin's slim, red wrists, nudging insistently at Vergil as he did so. "Show me... Vergil, show me what you felt, make ME feel it..." He murmured.

Eyes opening very slowly, Vergil looked deeply drunken, his voice raw still, words slurred.

"Can't. Explain."

Trembling, he pushed Dante against the wall, so that he was sitting there with his back against it--the gaping wound in his own chest was closing fast, and he took Dante's hand, thrusting it back inside with a sharp cry. "Stay inside me." The spoken words were sultry, painfully sensual, and Yamato was taken up then, Vergil straddling Dante, facing him.

His brother's hand again in his chest cavity, slowly heading back upwards again.

"Not yet."

For what seemed like an endless moment, their eyes locked, and then Vergil moved forward to catch Dante's lips in a teasing--and then deeper--kiss. "Lean back against the wall."

He brought Yamato up, and then down, cutting open the breastbone with one powerful stab-slash of the Okatana, and then dropped the sword, using his bloodied hand to open it up fully, as Dante moaned in pain. "Trust me."

Trust me.

His long hand snaked inside, until he found the hot, throbbing organ he sought--breath catching in the haze of love and want, his fingers gently began to caress, teasing the aorta and the arteries, trailing down one nail across the pulsing muscle itself--noting every nuance of the heart, sinking again into the thick fog of this almost holy ritual.

"Match me."

Needed Dante to touch him again.

Needed...

to merge, to meld.

To unite.

This was FOREVER, and he knew it. Did Dante understand? He thought he just might...