Title: A Sizzling Good Time
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: Dante, Vergil, Lady
Prompt: #63; Self-Conscious
Word Count: 733
Rating: PG-13
Summary: So Dante, Vergil and Lady fighting demons together makes no sense in canon. I have written it anyway. I also am aware of how stupid it is. It still amuses me. Dante is so unloved…

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Dante planned out the choreography before he decided to take this mother down, he had it all worked out in his head. The rain of sword slashes; the stunning back flip; the series of ducks and rolls, followed by an impressive display of firepower. This demon looked like a giant lizard with a freaky long tail, that was new. Should he make some wisecrack about Puff the Magic Dragon, or would that be too obvious?

Anyway, it was going down. No sweat.

He shot his partners a smug look, opened his mouth to be annoying, and then the beast coated him in fire.

"Jesus fuck!" he shouted, falling to the ground and writhing there.

The demon growled and charged, and Christ, his coat was melting into his flesh. His beautiful leather coat was dripping onto his perfectly chiseled abs, and that was an entirely new kind of pain. Stop, drop, and roll, right? Right?

Vergil and Lady were staring at him like he'd grown another head. Also, the dragon was raising its clawed foot, in order to smash all the life and all the guts out of Dante, who at that moment felt his eyelashes suddenly ignite.

"Motherfucker!" he yelled, clutching at his face and watching this horrible scene through his fingers. "Kill it! Why aren't you two bitches killing it?"

They gave each other a puzzled glance, and then the dragon's foot came off at the joint.

It was such a clean cut that Dante didn't need to see the bastard do it to know he had. Vergil sheathed his sword, and then jumped out of the way just in time for the demon to disappear in an explosion. He jumped back into the cloud before the dust settled, and Dante could hear the wet sounds of Yamato slashing the thing to bits.

When the smoke cleared, there wasn't much left.

Meanwhile, Dante was still on fire. The screaming agony was numbed by the complete fucking retardedness of this situation, having to smother the flames with his hands while Vergil and Lady kept looking at him.

"What the hell were you doing, just standing there?" Vergil demanded. "You couldn't have looked more the fool if you were trying."

Lady came to a stop right at his feet. "And what are you doing now?"

He was feeling to make sure he still had a face, now that he'd beaten the fires on his skin to death. His eyebrows had been vaporized. At least the hair on his head was mostly still there, because he didn't think he could go through life as a bald man.

Vergil shoved his hair out of his face and crossed his arms. "Great. Now he's going to sulk."

"Am not," Dante snapped, out of habit. He peeled a strip of red leather off his forearm, and flinched. "Damn it!"

"See?"

"Can it, both of you." Lady swung Kalina Ann over her shoulder and glared at them. "We still have half a creepy castle to explore and about a hundred more demons to vanquish."

"Very well," Vergil said, nodding.

The skin was growing back on his chest and arms, but Dante was hardly happy. He wondered if he should mention the fact that he was nearly naked – his coat was destroyed and his pants had barely survived, hanging in singed patched around his legs.

He decided that he better. "Hey, I think I'm suffering from a fashion emergency," he said, getting to his feet and gesturing down at himself.

Lady shrugged. "I thought you dressed that way on purpose," she said, before shoving her machine gun into her belt and stalking off to the doorway, no doubt looking to torture innocent devils that didn't happen to be him.

Feeling completely pathetic in his lack of outfit and mostly hairless state, he shot Vergil a pleading look. "C'mon, dude, you can't help me out?" He had a coat he could totally let Dante use, if he had a soul.

Vergil met his gaze steadily. Then, "You look like an idiot without your eyebrows." And he walked off after the lady.

"I hate you both," Dante muttered, bending down to pick up the strips of leather he'd pulled off his skin. He was going to have to tie his pants together. He hoped the two of them were fucking happy, because he was never going to stop complaining about this. Never.

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