"We can talk about that some other time. There isn't space in my mind for anything else. Right now, we need to get you upstairs." Nero, however, was in no rush; he made sure the door was double bolted before steering you into his arms and softly pushing your back against it, your arms hooking around his neck as he ground his hips into yours with the most sinful moans escaping his lips. His hands descended to the dip in your back, rounding your ass and gripping it tightly causing your pelvis to buckle under the immense pressure; Nero held you in place as he drew you in, grinding his clothed erection over your melting flesh with a hoarse, unsteady breath into your mouth, biting down hard onto your lip as he did it a second time. His unhurried pace caught you off guard, relishing in the feeling of his body weight pressed up against you, trapping you between a rock and his hard place and finding comfort in the fact that there was absolutely nowhere for you to go. He crunched his teeth at the third, head bent low over you while he watched your sexes hard at work with high hopes of sending the other over the edge before the night had begun, sinking his lips into your neck and breathing in your scent as his clutch tightened and the fibres at his claw nearly tearing it to shreds. "I needed to get that out of my system."

His hands left your butt but did nothing with the delicious pressure your body endured as he stretched his arms and flattened his palms on the surface of the door; his head fell to your chest in awe at the franticness of your lungs aiding to bring calmness back to a safe level within you, smiling onto your shirt in amazement that today's effect had on you – more importantly, how you wanted him as badly as he did you and not comprehending it until now, forced to acknowledge the tingle you fought hard to supress throughout the day at Nero's brutal display, succumb to it long before the day had ended. Your hand raked through his moist roots, pulling him off your chest and licking at his enviable lips, planting soft lingering pecks unsure of the direction he was going but your inner craving getting the better of you before stepping over the brink you currently stood, wanting to be remembered for putting up as much of a fight you could.

Your hands on his jaw brought him to his full height and he followed suit, keeping his tongue at bay and crushing you once again, dominating your senses at the featherlight brushed of his hair on your face and the heavy attention he was giving the front of your jeans, the miniscule clinking of his rings hitting the two buttons that hid your saturating, pulsating sanity. His actions below were replicated at your ear, his claw digging into the wood and dragging downward in tune with your fly and flipping you over to face the door; the blue talons retracted from the helpless oak leaving unrepairable cracks in its wake to take homage on your neck, pressing on your carotid artery as his grasp snaked into the room he had created for himself. You pushed your hands to the door not knowing what else to do with them, trying to think of the best way to touch him but failing at the slowing supply of oxygen to your brain; you arched into his growing bulge at the full-fingered plunge he took inside of you, a single digit rendering you speechless at the ever-growing pace and depth along your walls. He was teasing you, halting an inch away from your g-spot with each flex of his finger as you moistened at his touch.

"I'm really sorry for this."

If he wasn't next to your ear, you wouldn't have heard him. "Sorry for w-"

The hand on your neck moved to your chest in a bone-shattering vice, compressing your lungs dangerously as the other three joined inside you, stretching your entrance to full capacity while his thumb caressed your outer skin and clit, your arms falling to your sides under a scorching ache that would only end with you coming all over your brand-new jeans. You were a puppet in his clutches, flipping your positions again and requiring much more room to continue his relentless plan. "Put your legs up there, sweety." Nero used an inkling of strength to hoist you onto his kitchen counter with your feet firm on the slanting edge, surprised at the comfort; he flicked your clit and your parted your legs – the sole purpose of the endeavour in the first place – while he moaned and whimpered into your skin, the audible prize of his genius penetrating through two layers of clothing.

Your legs were jelly at this point, only finding the strength to keep them on the table and wide open as the rest of you went along with his plan, exhausted and helpless to say the least, affording nothing more than breathless laments to signify both your pain and pleasure at the new encounter. "I'm gonna go deeper; is that fine?"

What was the point in answering? What was the point in asking? He had you at a disadvantage and he was the one calling the shots. "No… No, it's not fine, but you're going to fucking do it anyway so why ask?"

He tenderly kissed your cheek, beads of your sweat coating his precarious lips. "Courtesy, baby, and the illusion that you're doing this to yourself." Nero stabilised himself while holding you, expelling a deep, gruff whine at four fifths of his hand sliding inside your vagina, your legs widening to support him and your hips collapsing at the incursion that was soon to bring about the best orgasm of your life; he didn't hold back this time round, each finger getting the opportunity to massage your g-spot over and over as he moved up and forward in his crusades, cruelly circling your walls faster and faster as he drew more liquid out of you. You were closing in on your peak, your head flung over his shoulder in lidded ecstasy and your chest struggling for breath with his fingers reaching an untouched place within; it was getting way too much for you to handle, only ever venturing spaces that were safe and with a way out, but this was an entirely new challenge owing to your body giving in yet crying out simultaneously to make you come as violently as possible. "You have to let me go-"

"Why?" His quick reply already meant that there was no chance.

"Becau-" You drew a deep breath through your teeth, tears welling at the corner of your eyes with your ribcage burning with a scream that would alleviate the pain almost instantly; you ventured a peep at his hand moving so fast between your legs you couldn't keep up, your lace panties and the front of your jeans covered in what you assumed were two orgasms you weren't aware of, and you weren't even going to bother what parts of his limb wasn't covered in your sex juices. 'Fuck it,' you thought, utilising your last bit of energy to keep your body perfectly still and enjoy the last few seconds of his ruthless attempt at fucking you senseless.

It was easy and hard at the same time, keeping still and giving him the satisfaction at feeling you crumble before his very eyes; at the same time the effort was torture, offering that one step closer to your demise resulting in the overall loss of feeling below your belt, the added extra of your growls becoming more feral and fitful and bouncing fluently around his kitchen. The profanity spewing from your mouth was completely uncalled for: there were only so many times you could say 'FUCK' before it lost its efficacy but not for the man behind you, every curse spurring him further and losing himself inside you, whispering dirty nothings into your neck in that husky, thick, raspy whisper you love so much, sending the good shivers down your spine and straight to your groin as the final drop of blood pumped into your folds. "You ready to come for me, honey?"

You nodded profusely, relieved out of your wits. "I can't scream anym-"

Nero took your earlobe between his lips, sucking it pink. "How much you wanna bet?"

"I don't want t-" You heard his smirk before the action, pressurising your spot with all of his might as he lifted you off the counter and made sure you could stand before bending you over the marbled surface, essentially compacting your body to a more concentrated state as he folded over behind you equipped with longer, deeper strokes and changing his pattern on a whim. He could feel you were close, tangling his fingers into your hair and scratching your scalp as he hauled your frame towards him, snarling while biting callously into your neck during an ensued piercing shriek from your mouth; he held the strands and bent your head backward in line with his, basking in the full blast of your pleasure and grinning from ear to ear as more orgasms left your body and dripped rightfully into his hand.

It seemed like it was over; it really did – he retracted as a tease, passing over your entrance and heartily spreading your liquids over your swollen sex; the predator turned your head to him and kissed you deeply, passionately, lovingly after what he had just put you through, but it was never this simple with him, was it? Your hopes of it being just a sweet kiss flipped on its head as the strokes above matched the ones below: same rhythm, speed, intensity and degree to which he was purely fucking your sanity over. At this point you were raw, mentally and physically incapable of keeping up with his incredible stamina. "Please stop."

Those words had never left you. Ever! "Ten seconds."

You shook your head and grazed your teeth on his sharp jaw to plead your case. "Nero, no more-"

"Ten… Seconds…" His arm glowed at the prospect of him getting his way again, sneering as he tongued your mouth and emulated it with his hand, refusing to limit his ministrations for your sake – as much as you tried a mental countdown didn't work, your wails heavy and lustful inside his mouth. Nero caught your tongue between his teeth and grazed it softly, inspiring the organ in response to his fingertips tugging and rubbing your clit to which you immediately stepped out of his attack radius, removing him from inside you and falling on all fours to the floor, dry-heaving to still your stinging heart. It was so nice and cold, soothing the heat in your joints instantaneously as more of you came in contact with the tiles, relaxing on your back and viewing the ceiling for all it was worth.

He walked the few steps to your side, feet on either side of your hips as he tilted his head in glory. "You're so in love with me, it's not even funny anymore."

Damn him for that smile. "The floor is really good."

"Really?" The floor wasn't usually his forte, but where was the harm in trying? To your astonishment he was being cute, getting to his knees and nuzzling between your legs to plonk himself on your chest, his face flanked by your breasts. "Yeah, okay, I see your point."

You lied there for some time, taking the chance to rub his back in apology as he tried to not to touch you upon your request; it remained a dream to you, sharing the same air he breathed, lying undisturbed on his floor as he listened to your heartbeat; you could pinch yourself all day and nothing would change – he was as real as daylight, his feelings for you made clearer than his existence with you so far down the holy-crap-he-loves-me-back stick that you could no longer see any traces of doubt or misunderstanding. It was encouragingly surreal and pure luck you met the man of your dreams early on, and only now mature enough to realise the warning signs from the very beginning.

He spoke directly into your chest, supposedly a few monologues to himself that translated as mumbles to earth dwellers as his hot breath prickled your skin, giggling at the notion that he was literally talking to himself. "Please forgive me," he says, raising his head and kissing the spot with the loudest echo on the left side of your torso, snaking up your body and keeping his hands far away as he found your lips within your stated boundaries, leaning onto his elbows that were on either side of your head. This was okay; this was more than okay. To keep your own mind at ease your arms remained at your side clasping at the material of your shirt, feeling yourself being condemned by every living deity – holy or otherwise – on the planet.

Nero broke the kiss and left you to your madness. "I'll be back to pick you up; I have a few things to sort out upstairs."

Upstairs – his bedroom – the catalyst to your second death in one day.

You were rolled on your right side, the floor feeling much warmer softer than it was supposed to; you slowly opened your eyes at the feel of the bedding on your fingers and the feather pillow supporting your head, a tall milky figure adjusting gym clothing coming into view. You sat up and rubbed the fatigue from your eyes, Nero still a hazed blur moving across his huge room to stand at your side and kiss your forehead shyly, his weight dipping the bed as he sat and held your tired hand in his. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

He played with your palm, tracing the lines on every one of your fingers and the open skin with his claw. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere; I changed the spare room into a small gym so I wanted to do some training while you slept." The oversized black shirt, black sweats, and trainers should have given that much away, but you were curious as to why his left arm was bound from his fingertips to his elbow in a double layer of industrial strength bandage and black duct tape. He followed your gaze to the abnormality and flexed the suffocating muscles underneath, showing you it wasn't meant to restrict movement. "There's a boxing bag in there and I can't wear the gloves." The sheer power of his bringer would incinerate the poor thing to dust and to regulate to the strength level of a gloved and non-gloved hand was relatively difficult while he trained. Dante came up with the solution on the spot and he'd used it ever since, not weighing his punches as much as he'd liked but preferred that he could keep the skin on his knuckles.

You shimmied on the bed as your clothes clung to the sweat on your frame; Nero's room was always pleasantly warm, but your layers of clothing were tailored to the evening air and not for your own uncontrollable body heat in conjunction with the cosy temperature he kept. "Aren't you uncomfortable?"

You nodded, the belt of your jeans digging into your belly – how nice, he'd made you decent. "I think that's why I woke up."

Your eyes were barely open as you spoke, your face heavily puffy at the fact that you had awoken from what seemed like a quick nap after going for almost two days without a quick wink; the slope in the bed disappeared and you followed the blob to his wardrobe, scratching through one shelf and pulling a grey shape from it, setting it on the bed next to you and getting you to throw your legs over the edge of the bed. "Come on," he said, chuckling at the irony of the situation and you being the dead weight you were. "I promised I wouldn't touch you and I won't, but I won't stand for you not getting a restful night's sleep." Your head lobbed to the side as he peeled your items of clothing one by one; getting you to keep your arms up in your state was as funny as it was difficult, opting to rather do it limb by limb which ended up being simpler. Your jeans were the easiest, practically sliding off your legs like they weren't mean to be there in the first place. You sat in your underwear already content and more than ready to collapse back into your spot when he cautiously took his shirt and put it over your head, pulling its full length over your torso and then only unhooking your bra, removing the sleek lace and dropping it to the floor on the top of your heap of clothing; he tugged your arms through the holes in his shirt and inspected his handiwork as he opened the covers for you to slide in, folding the duvet to just cover the naked, bottom half of your body. Your head hit the pillow with a sweet smile as he boldly placed a firm kiss on your lips, catching him leave the warm cocoon and leave you in peace to catch some much needed shut eye. Knowing Nero, there would only be one reason for this; the inability to sleep later on, which you would welcome with an open heart… arms and legs… and mouth.

You faded in and out of sleep, the tiniest noises stemming from anywhere opening your eyes involuntarily, only to have you drift off seconds later and returning to your deep slumber. At long last you heard his bedroom door open, Nero entering and covered in sweat from head to toe, glistening under the small lamps he had on either side of his room. He had turned off the main lights when he left with the two smaller lights giving off enough brightness to illuminate the important parts of the room. He used the towel swathed over his shoulders to frisk his damp hair; how hard had he worked his body in such a short time? "Are you finally awake? Or is this one of your glitches?"

He had a name for them; how adorable. "I think I'm awake," you replied, sitting up as Nero was no longer a blur; he took of his wet shirt from the bottom up giving you a clear view of the hard work he put into his late-night workouts. "I'm still going to… lie down though-" Nero began wiping his chiselled chest with the towel, dabbing at every groove and trough his muscles made under his irresistibly tight skin, more pronounced following whatever he had put his body through. Your mouth went dry as his train of thought went back to drying his hair, catching the beads of perspiration before it landed on the carpet and accidentally looking your way, seeing the sheets draped over your clearly wide open legs as you lied back against the headboard.

He stopped, thinking you were in pain. "Is something wrong?"

You shook your head and pulled the covers to the side. "Something's very right…"

Bringing yourself to reality, you wiped the effects of your miniscule nap from your eyes and sat on your knees, clicking your back and arms into place while staring Nero down across the room; as you stretched his shirt rode up your belly, giving him a full view of your tiny bottoms and allowing him to ogle before stalking toward him on the bed. "No no no no no no, I'm stinky, don't come near me." On the other end of the unbelievably cute stick sat an unkind face, one that had endured torture to the finest degree in simply doing what you'd asked and obeying because of the crumpling mess he left you in hours before. "You make me swear not to touch you and I hold up my end, and here you are wearing practically nothing trying to make the moves on me. I'm not strong enough to have self-control for the both of us, baby."

You clambered on all fours with a significant arc to your back, the big V-neck leaving little to the imagination as his line of sight followed down your chest. "That was before – this is now." Where on earth had this sudden burst of energy come from? It felt like not too long ago you were desperate to get some shut-eye, exhausted from the activities of two days in a row yet here you are, planting the seed for another night of no sleep and vicious sex; Nero needed no invitation but he knew you better than you did, assuming this was the weirdest form of foreplay that would dissolve in a minute when you fell into a deeper slumber in the blink of an eye. When you had reached the furthermost edge, a hungry tiger taking its position to pounce for its kill, his brain ticked into overdrive – this wasn't a drill. "I want you now."

He faced you head on and trod into your attack zone; yes, I can reach him you thought, lunging forward and laying your tongue above his sweats, licking a line of the saltiness that led to his belly button. You grazed your teeth and nibbled at the taut skin, feeling his muscles contract and nearly making him regret his oath to you; his hands were about to move to the back of your head when he stopped himself in the nick of time, clasping tightly onto his towel as you followed through and cleaned the skin on his pelvis, firmly kissing across the expanse of his hips and hearing the poor towel tearing bit by bit. "But I'm dirty."

"Even better," you pleaded, biting at the waistband of his sweatpants and drawing him to the edge of the bed, maintaining eye contact throughout in the hopes he'd give in. "But if you insist I'll wait for you." It was all part of your evil plan, getting him to notice your need to have him inside you, ravaging your insides with his rock hard penis and unforgiving, impulsive tempo that made you breathless and weak, fucking your vocabulary from your brain until only one name stayed put. You went back to your spot on the bed and didn't bother climbing under the covers, fluffing and stacking the pillows behind you and relaxed into them, dividing your legs in his view and sticking your hand in your lace panties hovering over your drenched, boiling folds. "You don't mind, do you?"

Your underwear had enough give for your hand to work its magic completely covered, playing with your clit and pushing your back into the softness you'd constructed. "Don't you fucking dare-" He was too late, the first few moans escaping your lungs in quick succession. Your other hand clutched at your chest, kneading your breasts for tandem stimulation and a better moan for him; two fingers dipped through, your vagina clenching around them unexpectedly tight in a breathy outburst void of flavour and colour – what a true mess you were, doing the exact opposite of your earlier confession and winning the argument hands down.

"You better hurry, Nero. I can already feel two lining up at your favourite spot."

He squared his jaw, walking over you your side of the bed and did the unanticipated, carefully hooking his finger at the delicate lace and pulling them to one side for examination; his eyes widened at the liquid wasted on the expensive material and fighting with himself to stay where he was and leave you to it. Things weren't that easy with him, were they? Nero enveloped himself in your gaze, sneaking his hand to your wrist without so much as a glance at anything else but you. Bending your hand, he dragged the two digits for fresh air only to have them plunge deeper inside you at the way he had fixed your wrist. "There it is," he said, his eyes engrossed in your face as he directed you to your spot over and over again, willing an agonised cry from you before racing to the bathroom for the shower he thought he needed.

The soothing sounds of the water made you drift off, hand still deep between your legs, smiling at having good material to dream about for the next fifteen minutes.

Dante was hyperventilating on the bed, the soft head of black hair bobbing between his legs nearing the close of his performance; Lars had the unhealthy habit of taking them all at once and not carrying his blowjobs out in stages, stimulating each part of their erections for a steady build-up of an orgasm but rather feeling the tip of their penises deep in his throat with pronounced movements in rousing the organs as a hole and not in part, readying a fuller, richer, more penetrating orgasm than by swallowing them inch by inch. If that were the case he'd have a lot more to cover for both the twins, well-endowed in their statures and bodily ranks than the normal human. The hybrid spread his legs and thrust into his face, his back arching as the creamy liquid was forced out of him ferociously, squirting into his mouth as he dragged his teeth along Dante's pulsing, rigid, veiny length to steal the rest that needed that extra push out of his penis.

Triumphant in his endeavour, Lars sat on his knees proudly, swallowing his sperm to join the other twelve orgasms in the pit of his belly; the man on his back breathed deeply, the exhales taking a vocal, whimpering turn than the intakes, calming his racing heart at how good he was being taken care of at the hands of the green-eyed beast. "Anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are after you come?"

Dante was feeling the onset of a fresh one clenching his hips as he sat up straight to meet Lars' lips. "That's something that would never leave Vergil's mouth." They kissed; famished, longing, deep, like two lovers filling in a one month quota in just a few hours – Lars fell onto the bed next to him and bent his leg over Dante's hip as the bigger demon allowed his hand to traverse the soft, bumpy planes of his chest; he was extremely sensitive to touch, the tiniest of moves making him twitch all over, and when the hybrid's hand wrapped around his cock it was the best form of heaven money could buy. Big and strong over his growing erection, Lars moaned into his mouth as his thumb pumped his tip, roughly thrusting his eager pelvis into his palm as it squeezed life into him starting at his base, gripping Dante's wrist to keep in place for as long as it would take to reach his orgasm.

He had hardened to full capacity, moving from his side to his back and ceasing grip on his partner's hand to which Dante pumped wildly, siphoning growls left right and centre for the arrival of his precum, massaging the flesh directly underneath his head to focus solely on getting more blood into the organ when the bedroom door opened and Vergil waltzed through, locking it behind him and taking off his coat. The younger froze in position, his clutch tightening at the new arrival and eliciting the most feral sound he had ever heard stem from the man, causing Vergil to stop dead in his tracks and turn to the pair on the bed; a single eyebrow shot up at Dante, trailing the lines of their naked bodies in connection as he ridded himself of his uniform. "I see I've missed plenty."

He walked to Dante's side of the bed and gave him a lover's kiss, his tongue darting into his brother's mouth at lightning speed and letting it linger between them, pushing him into the headboard at the pure potency of his intense arousal that had been brewing since they left his shop; Vergil mounted his brother's lap and pressed their hips together, the coarse material making the treacherous journey up Dante's impressive erection and having a broken moan make its way into the atmosphere. Lars climbed behind him and stripped the clothed demon of the frustrating fibres that covered his equally indecent, heating body, raking and digging into the younger's scalp at the sheer depth of their kiss; it must have been a boring night for him, the job only taken upon Dante being unavailable to answer the phone because of a longer than usual shower he took this morning. "Did you have a good night, brother?"

Vergil splayed his hands on his chest as he breathed heavy, staring into his brother's eyes and making it more difficult for him to concentrate; he nodded slowly, Dante's hands working on his stout leather belt. "Lars was incredible." He had to be – any person who could make him come thirteen times in a two-hour time span was superhuman by their standards. "Up," he said, not ridding him of his pants quick enough as he rounded his plump butt and pushed down, the mop of black hair in the rear yanking at the legs and throwing the offending material across the room. Thank goodness he hated underwear; Dante watched his erection breathe in the cold air, hissing and licking his lips at the lone digit outlining the throbbing veins that grew with every stroke. There was no limit to the size he could achieve, reflecting his degree of horniness with every thrust and no individual had bared the brunt of his full potential as of yet, finding it near impossible to drive him to the point of no return and have him driving some poor soul into the mattress and wall alike, impaling their insides so severely in his inexorable search to discover the untouched area of ultimate pleasure. The two in the room had gotten him further than any other, edging closer and closer to the threshold of his sanity each time they had sex. Together, his brother and Lars were a formidable team that worked him to the bone in attaining what he sought out, recently coming close more than a few times.

He kissed Dante on the neck and moved to the opposite side of the bed, sitting on the edge and piloting the other man to stand between his spread legs. "I'm glad." The smooth skin on Lars' belly was within tonguing distance; the elder brother sunk his teeth into the bundle of nerves under his navel as he felt perilously close to his own vices standing in attention. "He needs a reward, doesn't he?"

Vergil had no intention of waiting for an answer to his hypothetic question, encasing Lars' tip in his saliva and rubbing his tongue on the skin of his tip. The victim's head lolled back at the wonder that was his mouth, his hands having a mind of their own in clamping into his broad shoulders, not wanting to overstep in pulling at his hair even though the situation called for it; he finally opened his eyes and observed the rest of his penis vanishing into him, with him tilting his head to suck at his balls. Vergil's hands encircled his ass and drew him closer, his hardening member taking a backseat to the unbelievable sensations he was capturing between his lips. Lars' eyes shot open and his green orbs were shrouded in a gloomy black, unhurriedly clouding both his eyes over as the hybrid relieved control on his frame, the sticky substance hanging between the tip of his tongue and Lars' member. "On your knees, princess." Air discharged from his lungs as Vergil bit his inner left thigh. "It's been a while since I've fucked that mouth of yours."

The pair of black eyes obeyed, wrenching his legs further apart as he snaked to his knees and lined up with his penis perfectly. He made himself comfortable on the edge as his pale hand stuck out like a sore thumb against his black locks, moving with the forward motions of his head as he began sucking Vergil; he'd been waiting for this all day, having Lars' mouth on him while he descended to lunacy – the man's triggered state possessed an added extra: hundreds of cartilage spikes of varying size covered his tongue as well as the depth of his throat, generating sensations humans could only dream of and it was his ultimate weakness, the bendable protrusions adjusting to his swelling contours and compelling more blood into the organ. His continued strokes on the length made him weak, resting his body weight on his left arm behind him and holding the back of Lars' head with his right, revelling in the sweet tinge of the sharp points the further he pushed into his mouth, the man below keeping his stare on the satisfied hybrid and meeting every thrust with a flick of his pronged appendage.

Lars' gaze flicked to a form behind Vergil, stalking his snarling prey and kneeling behind him, breaking their electric gaze and jerking his head back by means of a big hand under his jaw; Dante overtook his mouth in a matter of seconds, halting his body in focusing on the commotion above and below. He moaned into the kiss in time with the wet strokes between his legs, soon losing every ounce of discipline over his form as he fell back into the sheets, his brother breaking the kiss for a split second to grab him under his arms and shift him closer to the middle of the bed. The creatures at either end of him nodded to one another: Dante mounted him, his thighs on either side of his face as Vergil curled his grip, fondling the supple skin of his posterior and plunged his length into his mouth by his own command; through clenched teeth a savage howl came from the younger twin, barely catching himself from falling forward at the unexpected intensity of his brother's hunger. On the other end Lars scaled the bed, his devilish gaze replaced with his usual emerald stare curtained by the sweaty, unruly strands undone by Vergil; Dante sustained his deepening thrusts while grabbing the back of his brother's knees, working up his calves and planting them into the bed on either side of his body by a vice grip on his ankles. He worked the blood back into his erection and readied his tip at his entrance only to be stopped by a single gesture from his partner, nudging his head upward for one last taste before he dived into his tightness; he leaned between Vergil's legs and bit at the stiff skin and held it amid his lips, giving reason for the rest of the fluid to come to his aroused aid.

Dante could feel the very moment Lars penetrated him, the constricting muscles in his neck softening at the relaxation of his entire body under the strong invasion; this made way for him to thrust graver into his mouth, his chest surging at being balls deep at the ease of the movements of his shaft. The twin kept his eyes on Lars' moves, emulating them above as they stirred in sync and shared a smile at the shaking body beneath, both moving faster with no mercy or remorse. The pair gazed deep onto each other's eyes as their bodies dictated their depth and pace, carefully observing and alternating between deeper and smaller strokes, quick bursts and slower charges, and finally embedding their pleasure centres so deep inside Vergil he had no option other than to take it like a man, holding their positions for seconds at a time for him to really feel their aches and pains with every shove, their heartbeats erratic and echoing down the respective hole they ventured.

The younger gave his brother a chance to breathe, moving along his body and catching Lars in a celebratory kiss; the latter maintained his stance at the other end, relatively close to his own release and returned it, closing the gap as much as he could to tighten the muscles around his thumping member. "He's gotten bigger," Dante said, tipping his head toward Vergil and receiving a gaping mouth in response – he looked like he had reached his peak, his hand unable to handle the usual grasp on him.

Only Lars could see that they were now in deep trouble, pulling out and stepping back as the elder claimed his bearings after the ceased assault. "And now one of you is going to fucking get it." Vergil's arms were around his brother's waist before he had the chance to react, crashing his back into the headboard and making him cry out in unadulterated decadence; the display of raw sexuality only peeked its rare head when he was at his limit, unable to control his actions and words owing to his demon partially taking the reins to provide his mate with the best sexual encounter possible, utilising everything to his advantage and reducing the man on the receiving end to a pile of horny rubble with not a drop of oxygen in his lungs. Unfortunately for him, Lars had come across this phase once before and it kept him out of work for a week; the burst of strength that came with the transition was to be feared and revered, taking on the urges of two supernatural beasts at once that may skew your scale of balance and process of thinking overall – this type of thing was something you added to your resume… if you survived.

Vergil was on him like a bee to its honey, pinning him down in the sexiest manner. "Would you mind giving us a second, Lars? I need to teach my little brother a lesson." He was going to be fucked raw; he could see and smell it a mile away, never before seeing his brother in such a frenzied state – the hybrid flinched as Vergil parted his legs as wide as it could go, slowly dragging his nails on the exposed skin on his thighs and causing Dante's pupils to dilate to the furthest degree.

Lars counted his lucky stars he managed to move in time and he wouldn't dare disobey him while his demon was in the driver's seat. "I'll prepare the tea and ice packs for when you are done."

Tea?

Ice packs?

Fuck.

His fate was sealed as the bedroom door closed behind the lucky fucker, leaving the space for Dante's sake. "You don't have to do this."

"I don't, but when I start you'll be begging me not to stop." The younger accepted his fate then and there, stilling his squirming body in just wanting to get it over and done with; he'd enjoy it as much as his body would allow, and until then he'd just have to grit his teeth and deal with the rest when the time came. Vergil sucked his fingers and pinched his brother's tip, coercing a deep breath from him; Dante wrapped his arms around his sibling's neck as he faced his fate head on with a slow, calculated tongue entering his mouth the same instant he pushed into him – deathly, painfully, ruefully slow – his body adjusting to the new size and widening the deeper he ventured, his face contorting to reflect the immense pleasure he was experiencing with his hands on Vergil's ass pushing him further into his arched back, his rolled eyes matching his open mouth; he'd grown in length and girth, no longer needing to angle his thrusts owing to every single one filling Dante in just the right way.

The curve in his back was hard to get rid of, crunching the duvet in his hands at how good it felt to be filled to capacity; no room for anything extra, each one of Vergil's attacks bringing him extremely close to the hugest orgasm in his life. "What did I say? You can't get enough of me, brother." He used his bent back as his own benefit, folding himself over Dante while buried inside him. "Rest assured I'll make you scream my name and fuck you long after you've come." It was one hundred percent Vergil, his demon probably focusing on the prominent lower half of his body; he pulled out quickly and thrust into his poor body, wiggling his hips to taunt the space he had expanded to cater his recently acquired size and licking his lips at how well his brother was responding to him. "You're a big boy, Dante; you can handle it."

Fuck, he was so deep; Vergil laid on top of him and moved his legs to hook around his waist, starting the long and perilous adventure that would probably end in more than squeaky yelps being shed; he couldn't have been more right as the first wave of thrusts came, so intense it shook the bed with them as they bounced along the springs and all Dante could do was hold on tight, hoping the sounds to leave his chest wouldn't wake the surrounding neighbours.

Downstairs, Lars was hard at work preparing the only remedy Vergil believed in: four cups of boiled water, the half of a freshly squeezed lemon, and four cups of organic tart cherry juice. For good measure he set the sparkling grape juice in the freezer to chill quickly next to the freezing ice packs. He combined and stirred the contents in a coffee plunger for easy pouring, hovering over the concoction with the honey and attempting to guess how much to add. The usual one teaspoon was the recommended dosage but did nothing to sweeten the sour mix. He reached for a teaspoon in the drawer in front of him; in the process of measuring out a single dose, Vergil's bedroom screeched a line of profanities that would make any pirate proud, followed by a masculine, deep, resounding scream that was surely heard by the hordes of both heaven and hell alike, the broken trail of smaller moans abruptly muffled by his or his brother's hand. Lars could hear he struggled to keep his composure under the incredible pressure Vergil bestowed in him, doing his best to roll with the punches – well, it was one punch: one glorious, thick, pulsing, thrusting, deliciously intoxicating punch – and doing surprisingly well for his first time.

"Yep," he agreed with himself, tossing the teaspoon back into the drawer and just squeezing how much he thought would be fitting for the demon.

Upstairs the twins maintained a steady pace, slowing from Vergil's initial ambush to a more easy, readable speed that Dante could anticipate; that in itself hadn't bettered the atmosphere, with the elder still pounding into him and stretching his walls beyond comparison to anything he'd endured until now, still on his back hitting the headboard and his lungs still burning from the groans that had to escape. The mountain of pillows behind him did little to sooth the rhythmic pattern as he hit the wood in full force, feeling Vergil in his entirety as his girth pummelled him into a mushy mess. It was time; he wouldn't hold out much longer without the succour of his inner demon to take over and undergo the rest of the ride home, or at least until he thought he had his fill. Dante pulled him by the arms and flattened his palms on the headboard as he slinked into the pillows, lifting Vergil out of harm's way as a thick, long, scaly, crimson tail burst from underneath him; the younger's ceruleans hazed over in violet as four untamed fangs grew from his mouth; his soft hands leisurely covered themselves in a coat of flaked, hardened skin up the crook of his elbow. From past occurrences, his demon had learned to shield Dante's windpipe all the way up his neck and halting beneath his jaw; Vergil could still penetrate the skin if need be but by fangs only, not by the habitual choking he'd grown accustomed to. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologise, he's ready to come out as well." Vergil rested his forehead on his brother's as the sound of splintering wood shattered the quiet evening air, the skin tearing from his arms to accompany the shimmering navy flesh that had replaced it; a deep, rich grunt was forced from his chest as his pointed tail floundered into the mix, floating above his head like a scorpion on heat. As with the scales around Dante's neck, the twin had the tradition of digging deep trenches down the length of Vergil's back; the precautious blue demon screened the massive expanse of skin all the way over the back of his shoulders, joining the scales at his forearms. Nothing could prepare them for what was going to happen next, the end of the transformation offering them full control of their bodies and unimaginable possibilities of equal parts irrevocable pain and undeniable pleasure.

Dante drew first blood biting deep into his collarbone, signalling that the red inner fiend accepted the daunting challenge; he began splitting flesh at vital pinpoints as they healed instantly, initiating the cycle of unending dizziness and confusion throughout the most brutal sex both of them would ever be involved in. The bloody nipping sent the blue stronger demon backward in his tracks, receding on the bed for Dante's tall body to be tensed to capacity before nuzzling between his legs and dragging him along the sheets with a death grasp on his ankles.

In a strange turn of events, Dante's tail wrapped itself around Vergil's hips and the latter's own found solace around the younger's neck with the very tip perched across his mouth. He aligned his erection with his entrance, looking up at his sibling and making a gnawing motion with his mouth. "You might need it."

"How considerate-" The heightened sensitivity at the presence of their demons was something he'd completely forgotten, the first thrust rippling inside him uncomfortably as Vergil buried himself to the hilt, releasing the grip on his ankles and resting his body weight on his elbows strategically positioned on either side of Dante's head; his eyes opened in a purple flash, sparks of electricity flying between their entwined bodies as the twin dipped his head, feeling peckish at the moving scales on his younger brother's neck. One deep breath later and the incessant pounding began, both twins shuddering at the new experience with every thrust ripping them further and further away from everything they supposedly knew about one another.

Within seconds, a sneer so poisonous erupted on Vergil's face as he felt Dante's hands on his ass as the trademark arch to his back came and passed – his giveaway that he was in pure bliss but in no way would indulge in vocalising the feat to the one who commanded his orgasm – while pushing him deeper into the tight, swollen space. Moving the tip of Vergil's tail, the man pursed his lips in invitation, taunting the face above him in the best way possible; captivated in the most sensual kiss they'd ever share, the blue demon thrust his hips forward, tilting upward to support the entry of his thickening base alongside a feral snarl into his broad chest quickly muffled by the piece of him that Dante wouldn't have predicted needing to use so quickly.

Nero opened his bathroom door and ruffled his wet hair in an attempt to get the last bits of moisture from his scalp with a medium sized towel wrapped on his waist. His head turned to where you were meant to be, greeted by bunched linen and a vague silhouette of where you once were. You cleared your throat, standing with a hairdryer in your hands at the foot of the bed because of the short cord and the awkward position of one of three outlets in his entire room. You gave up looking for a brush, not sure whether he had one, and opted for a strangling look of 'you better get our ass here quickly or else'. "I don't need that."

The decision had already been made; how could he not see that? "You're not getting a cold."

"I don't get colds."

"And I won't let you start now." His hair was dripping onto his bulging, powerful chest and you caught yourself gawking at the wet trails it left on his milky skin. "Dry your hair a bit more then it won't take as long."

It was hard to believe he walked out with soaking wet shoulders and only one towel; that conundrum was immediately solved as you observed him from a distance plucking the fold-over, unknotting in seconds and throwing it over his head like the cocky little shit he was; every step toward you was torture as your core tensed the closer he ventured, taking absolutely no effort in doing anything other than doing what you asked him to. How could someone turn you on by walking? Granted, it was who was doing the walking that had everything to do with it, but still – why? Of course, he was stark naked as well, pulling faces as he stood in front of you while drying his hair daring you to make a move or a snide comment. But you were stronger, weren't you? That delicious body only threw you off a little; it was his face that spoke volumes, a self-satisfied gloat as his clamped his tongue in his teeth. Nero sat on the edge of the bed where you were looking like a saint with the white towel on his head. "Will you let me touch you now?"

"Will you sit still until I'm done?" He scrunched his face as if he was planning to say no; curling his bottom lip like he was denied his favourite flavour of ice cream he nodded, weighing up his options of how it would count in his favour. "Then yes," you said, holding up a finger at the darting pair of hands about to attack your stomach. "Let me get the back first, and then you can do as you wish."

He had to get up for this, but much to his dismay ended up submitting to your orders, moving his head to angles he never thought possible until they were dry; you knew one deep breath wasn't enough to prepare you for what was coming – not two seconds after moving in front of him to tackle the leftover strands was he on you, not caring of your pricey underwear while cleaving at the sides and having the elastic flick you on the hips; yeah, this was pretty much the reaction you were expecting, sad at the short-lived existence of your panties. You wanted to show that it didn't bother you in the least and carried on as if nothing happened, so close to the finish line until he had to go and make things harder… literally; your hands innocently raked through for any part of his head that you'd missed and interrupted by his unremitting need to pull his top over his head and assault your bare chest – more specifically, your breasts and nipples – with his hands around your back pushing you into his mouth. You had to drop the hairdryer at your feet in fear of breaking the unused object, using the pads of your feet to kick it against the wall unit out of danger.

He arched your back into him, inadvertently causing you sit on his lap; a hazardous feat owing to the lower half of your body now unclothed by his undoing, leaving you wide open for any punishment he wished. Shallow, timed breaths were forced in as he bit hard on his desired pressure points, moaning as he did so and inflicted ripples of his craving to flow through your body willingly, your toes curling at the sensations that came from nowhere. You took the opportunity at him not being able to see you, raising your arms and scratching your scalp with your true intention on display for no one to see, your mouth gaping as he sucked and sucked, rubbing your back in tandem with his exploits across your chest and deliberately leading your sex to his. "You gonna be a good girl and let me make love to you now?"

At least he asked this time; not that you answer would make a difference, but he asked. It was a step in the right direction. "Will you be gentle?"

How he'd managed to swap your positions on the bed was a mystery for another day as his baby blues peeked out of the hem of his shirt, supporting your back as you sat at an awkward angle. "Hell no."

"Then yes." From there he removed the insulting grey fibres over your head and tossed it close to his hairdryer.

"You might want to move, honey. I need all the space I can get." His eyes were on fire, keeping you in his sights as you moved higher up and got comfy at the pillows; he hunted your naked body on all fours, stealthily riling you up with every step, feeling the weighted dips move nearer intensifying your anticipation to the moves he'd planned inside his beautiful mind. "You're going to have to forgive me for this one." Without so much as a warning he mirrored your previous actions, jabbing his face into the tingly skin under your navel, the soft caresses of his tongue feeling the manner in which your muscles constricted under his devotion; the heaves of your chest grew the lower he descended, utilising the breadth of his jaw to open your legs for a snugger fit than before.

"You ready for me, princess?" You nodded, but you weren't, made all the more evident by you covering your face with one of the loose pillows at your head the moment he licked over your folds as a courtesy, propelling his tongue into you and having your hands grasp air before tearing into the feathers and flinging it nonsensically, knowing only to keep the bottom half of your frame dead still as Nero worked his wet magic on your walls. He stopped suddenly, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs and all around your entrance, one last bated, hot moan into your folds before he flipped you over with the rest of your body following on confusion as he steadied your knees on the bed, alluring your hips upward and toward him. The kiss down your spine told you all you needed to know, keeping your head in its position at the futility of fighting to hold it up; the bringer gripped your hair in place as Nero nuzzled into the small of your back, marking your skin in bruised, flaming love bites. You claimed a pillow and held it to your chest, needing something to bite more than his sheets could handle; you hid your head in the soft feathers to muffle a groan as your eyes rolled into your skull, his tongue doing the justice you so rightfully deserve.

He opened your cheeks for your arousal to breathe, and on full display for him and him alone as he wreaked biased havoc on the entire area between your legs. The arc to your back deepened, supporting his endeavours as much as your anatomy would allow while he dragged with his tongue bits of orgasm left untouched by your prior efforts. "This started on all fours, and that's how it'll end."

With Vergil's hunger finally sated, he set his brother mildly into the castle of pillows in his attempt to detach from him, wanting to induce as little pain as possible. Dante's body jerked at the retraction, watching his sibling pull out gradually and effortlessly from his body, his erection returning to its former, societal-approved bulk; he stayed on his back, feeling the internal damage being repaired almost instantly and grinning from ear to ear. "I guess I owe you one."

Vergil ascended to lie next to him, smoothing his hair out of his face. "You owe me a few."

He smirked. "A few it is then." Dante received the softest flurry of kisses on his lips, those damn frosted orbs glaring at him persuasively and demolishing what portion of his rationality he had left. "How do you feel?"

He raised himself on his elbows and stole a quick peck. "I've just had the best sex of my life; how do you think I feel?"

"I meant pain wise." Vergil turned his body to him and he did the same, flushing their bare skin and sneaking his arm under his older brother's head.

"That's not important right now; the real question is how long will I have to wait for that to happen again?"

Their afterglow was truly something to behold, the twins radiant in their post-coital intimacy; they were in their warily constructed bubble of fluff unable to get enough of one another a short period of time succeeding their lovemaking, wrapping themselves in a mix of their inebriating scents while continuing the flow of their demonic sexual energy by constant movements, naughty and otherwise. "A really, really long time."

Dante shuffled closer to him, disliking the indescribably tiny space between them and draping Vergil's leg over his body, filling the gap with his own shoved between the elder's legs. "I'll ask Lars to fill in then."

"Good luck breathing after that one."

"What do you mean? Did you not see what I just survived?"

Vergil gave him a single raised eyebrow, climbing into his colossal chest. "Dante, Lars is an incubus: a pure-bred sex demon. We are half-demons who don't specifically specialise in anything; he was born to fuck you to death. I'm not too sure if he has killed before, but everyone who's walked away intact left with more than a few battle scars. What just happened now is nothing compared to what he is capable of." They were so close they could taste each other – there was no stopping him; Vergil opened his mouth to speak and it was quickly overtaken, holding a conversation he wasn't interested in having. There was one thing on his mind and his brother was painfully aware of it, but hurt him again he would not, even though Dante had just taken a fat chance in straddling him in their immeasurable state of arousal and growling into his neck. Vergil liked that; he liked that very much.

The twin on top snuggled between his brother's legs splaying his identical form over him. "Now how do I trigger him?"

Dante was swimming in dangerous waters; Vergil was most sensitive at his neck, and directly following a sexual endeavour of this calibre was asking for a round two of a painstakingly methodical knock to every level of your consciousness. Nevertheless, and because it was Dante, he gave him more room to explore while tugging at his silver locks, his other hand entwined and crushing his brother's. "He's… always triggered… but he's extremely powerful… when it comes to self-control… It takes… quite a bit… to get him in the mood… and even more so for him to… reach… the state of thirty seven… non-stop hours of penetration… That's his rec- HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU EXPECTING ME TO SPEAK, YOU IDIOT?"

"I'm not." Vergil groaned into his exploits wishing his brother didn't know him as well as he did, his chest inflating at the pressure to keeping his immense satisfaction far away from his brother's ears; the faintest misstep or breath out of place was reason enough to start something neither of them was ready for. "You never have to answer me when I'm trying to seduce you, but it is fun when you step up to the plate." Dante sat up on the bed and pulled his brother with him, fluffing his hair as a handsome smile shrouded his face whilst crashing their lips in blinded ecstasy, infiltrating the twin's psyche at its deepest level; he toyed with his sibling's helplessness at not taking full command of the situation sooner, cradling the creamy form to slot between his legs and trailing the pads of his fingers along the taut contours that twisted under staggering muscle he so easily concealed behind layers upon layers of clothing.

The twins were on the verge of their boiling point when a knock sounded on the door. "Is it over?"

"It went quiet didn't it?" Vergil liked teasing how vocal Dante was in bed, secretly revelling in the thought that he could overthrow his twin amid the sheets.

Lars crossed the threshold with a tray of the promised tea and bottle of grape juice and three glasses; setting it down on Vergil's desk, he snuck a glance at the pair on the bed still staring at one another with the strangest question he'd ever ask dangling in front of his eyes. "How are you sitting?"

"It wasn't that bad." Dante turned to him as he graciously poured it for them. "I hear you can do worse."

Gosh, what had Vergil told him? Was the comment to rile him up or had the elder spilled the beans? Either way no harm done, apart from the damage he might have to cause come the month of October. "Much worse, but I don't like to blow my own horn. I have you two to do that for me."

If they weren't brothers, Lars might be slightly jealous at Dante for the way Vergil looked at him; simple yet filled with unimaginable intrigue, fixated on raw power and the undeniable strength they shared owing to their heritage, and his overall aura that mixed perfectly with his own to create this hypnotic scent that spiralled anyone who came near into a daydream of unprecedented awe, with the two most delectable beings on the other side holding the reins to your own psychological expiry and toying with the very idea of what it meant to be human.

To watch them detach from one another was the end of a sad love story, focused with two cups of tea in hand; the meticulousness of their being in sync left no stone unturned, no boundary untouched, and the elder left little that went noticed to the naked eye. Lars brought the tea over to the pair that had covered themselves decently, Dante passing Vergil's over to him and holding the other for him to get comfortable on the bed. "I wonder how Nero's doing."

He'd outdone himself this time, both of them laughing at the subtle hint of extra honey he'd included for the pain. "He's fine – more than fine, I'd say."

Dante and Lars shared a look, Vergil known for his silence upon any matter than held no concern to him directly. "You getting jealous there, Vergil?"

"Oh please, this is the wrong tree to be barking up." The level of care he harboured for Nero was matched only by the two beings who currently shared the room with him; he was an unanticipated breath of fresh air for the routine lives the twins had grown used to. Reflecting on the events of the day, he was honestly proud at the way things had gone and just relieved that she wasn't someone he'd made up. After two years of hearing very much and seeing even less, Vergil had become worried that she was a figment of his imagination brought upon by the traumatic after effects of the depression. Today was a step in the right direction for their little one, a step that they'd been waiting for and for a very long time.

Lars finished his tea and moved into the juice which held a healthy chunk of antioxidants that would keep him running for the rest of the night. "It's obvious she worships the ground he walks on." And it was typical for him to comprehend the situation so much better than his half-demonic counterparts. "They've been playing this game for a while now, him more than her, and getting to see that small taste did open my eyes a little; like, seeing the two of them together made sense, given the snippets he allowed us to know. She was his best kept secret, and it's most likely he was waiting for today for us to piece the puzzle for ourselves instead of having to listen to his stories day and night. He could never tell a story properly." He really couldn't; whenever it came to her his flustered frustrations took the better of him and his words jumbled profusely, making him more embarrassed whereby he ended up either leaving the room or changing the topic only to have the three relentlessly beat the details out of him for good measure. "They are good together. They weigh each other out. She's the right level of crazy to dissolve his craziness in, something like that."

Dante nodded along with him, half of his tea gone and regretting the other half he still had to swallow. "He's in good hands, Verge. Stop worrying."

"I'll never stop worrying, Dante, you know that."

The younger twin pursed his lips and gave Lars a steely glance before shifting to the edge of the bed. "After tonight, I can guarantee you that you won't have to." Now the pain was catching up with him; throwing his legs over the edge seemed more tender than he remembered, and something as trivial as the bedsheets should in no way cause the severe friction that it did. He motioned to stand, able to climb and stabilising himself on his legs before laughing his heart out at his sudden predicament; neither bothered to help – it wasn't in their nature – and elected to stare instead, much on display to ogle over on both his front and back.

It was only when he began making progress did Lars choose to ask of his actions as he poured himself more tea to suffocate through yet knowing that whatever was inside was going to work. "Where are you going?"

Lars was genuinely absorbed in his question; Vergil, however, took the opportunity of his swindling attention to place his cup on the dresser next to him and clamber over to where he sat at the end of the bed. "Giving you space – you don't like a third wheel."

"Those aren't my words-" The hybrid caught him completely unawares, capping the bottle in his hands and tossing it to Dante lifting his frame to more suitable position on the bed. Vergil wouldn't forget, would he? His late arrival merely meant their 'special' time be bumped a few hours forward, not caring that he was mid conversation with someone else while he ravaged the skin on his back as he was persuasively pushed forward to distribute the remainder of his body weight onto his arms. "I said it makes me uneasy having to look at someone who isn't taking part in the… ummm…" Two guesses why the words weren't coming to him… "-festivities."

Lars reached behind him; two guesses as to what he was doing. "That's why I'm-"

"You don't have to." Vergil pressed into him long and hard without hesitation, pulling the incubus closer by his hips and burying his shaft inside the demon, giving him a run for his money. "Tell you what; I'll get him to trigger and you can have a feel of that tongue of his." The brothers looked at him for confirmation and received an eager nod in return, unable to speak owing to his gaping mouth replicating the size of how far he was being stretched. "Be warned – overstimulation is what he's known for; I can't have you soiling his reputation. Just his throat and mouth."

He leaned back on his arms and pushed forward with his sultry hips sending a shockwave of carnality up Lars' spine and feeling him slowly trigger down the length of his erection. "As good as that offer sounds, I think I'm safer downstairs-"

"Do what I tell you and get on your back." Dante couldn't resist him in this state; the glorified stare of a madman in the middle of fucking someone's brains out was difficult to walk past, made even more so by the fact that what he was doing wasn't walking. Vergil pulled him close and rushed a tongue his way, kissing him sloppily but moving him away from the bedroom door. "It won't hurt."

Lars did his part, wrapping his arm around his ridiculously solid upper thighs and arranging him perfectly on the expanse of the sheets; those black orbs had surfaced once again, honing no control as they dipped between his legs painfully slow followed by an unparalleled view of his tongue as he stuck it out to graze his tip. The hybrid curved his back in astonishment at the flexible cartilage, massaging large masses of blood into his penis at an alarming speed; the activities behind him distracted him none, merely moaning with hot breath as Vergil managed to burrow deeper, the vibrations more than heavenly on Dante's taut skin. "Lucky for you he loves me in my triggered state; I could be sucking your dick for a while." His black eyes watched his reaction as his spikey throat constricted around his tip and his lips clamped around his base, hiding the inner workings of the erratic organ rendering him to a whimpering pile of personified sex.

That was fine with him.

Nero left you breathless on your stomach clutching onto a pillow for your dear life; tiny beads of sweat formed at your scalp in your futility at trying to keep yourself together while he kept spreading you beyond your stretch, flicking his tongue over and in your sex until you were raw with need, relief overflowing your aching limbs when he straightened you on the bed to still your maniacal heart and lungs. Butterfly kisses traversed the skin on your back, prickling with every touch of his supple lips and tingling to all the way down to your happy place. Gods forbid you needed more tingle between your legs to fuel that cursed fire within.

But something was wrong; even as he laid his body flush against yours you could sense a change to the air, miles away from anything bad but still strange nonetheless. The contact had stopped altogether and you turned your head to watch his hands crunch at the sheets, something he rarely did when he was either on edge, nervous, or on the brink of tears; every outcome made no sense, so what other option did you have other than to turn and face the brooding mess in the hopes of cracking his code? You looked into his ocean blues with worry etched in the creases for no reason at all, his beaming smile quickly melting your skeletal structure which you couldn't help but return albeit out of pure confusion. A soft kiss to your mouth proved that he was indeed okay, moving the stray strands from his face for a view money couldn't buy. "I have something for you."

Nero pecked your forehead and moved to the edge close to his dresser. "It's long overdue, but…" From your position as you could see was him opening the drawer and moving an assortment of papers and flyers, tapping the sheets next to him as a sign for you to join him; you were excited to the third degree and scared to the second, inertly crossing your fingers, eyes, and toes it wasn't as big a deal as he made it out to be. He had never gotten nervous to give you presents before now, but the concern with which he moved raised the hairs on your neck to the importance of this one in particular; you tried a peek to what he was looking for, leaning across his chest with an unforeseen shining grin plastered on your face and getting the feeling it was going to be there for a while. "I've been hiding this from you for three years; I think it's time for you to have it."

Three years? What gift could he have possibly bought that lasted three years? In that moment you were somewhat grateful it wasn't chocolate, but any of your best guesses at this point would be fruitless: had anything in your possession even lasted three years? Besides your clothes and furniture – not all the pieces, unfortunately – nothing fit the category, and you realised your mind had meandered to your own special oblivion when his hand on your back woke you from your overthinking state with part of his claw hidden deep inside the drawer. "Should I be scared?" you asked, hoping he took the bait to your useless attempt at a mind game that may reveal something about what was hidden in that drawer.

Nero turned his head and kissed you on your cheek. "Do you love me?"

No way you'd ever tire from hearing him say it. "I do."

You felt giddy as you saw his hand move toward you, your smile quickly fading upon the small white box that had appeared. "Then no." No, your mind wasn't going to get the better of you; no, it isn't at all what it appeared; and no, he wouldn't do something like this. But that was his strong suit: pure unpredictability in the eleventh hour and catching you off guard enough to sweep your knees from under you. The blue glow beneath gave it an ethereal touch, the luminous clue to the depth of what was within its confines as you tried to hide your happiness as much as you could. "I'm calling it a place keeper for now, until you're ready."

You were going to milk this, weren't you? And now more than ever, you were certain that petite cube hadn't concealed a pair of diamond earrings. "Ready for what?"

"To be with me forever." He popped it open with a minuscule flick of his claw, holding it out for you to see while his human hand rubbed across your shoulders: set entirely in white gold, the diamond in the middle nestled between two stray strands of the luxurious metal on either side of it; five smaller diamonds were wedged comfortably in the gold on either side of the strands, meeting to form the rest of the band in smooth silver. "To make me your husband; to wake up with me watching you sleep; to let me spoil you for sixty more birthdays; to run you baths when you've had a long day, to cook your dinner when you're too tired to, to give you massages when the people at work stress you out too much. I don't want to miss my chance to make you happy, or at least try to. I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of being at your side." Nero pulled the ring out of its place and handed it to you by the band, nearly missing the tiny inscription on the inside of it: 'protocol 242'. You smiled as you ran through your list that Nero had you memorise, hiding in the recesses of your memory since you were 10. We're screwed.

Twirling it between your hands seemed surreal at best, taking the attention away from the growing lump in your throat at the immediacy of the events that had led up to this moment; it was just a day ago that he'd finally come clean about how he felt for you, giving no means to retaliate and make him work for all the years he's made you suffer alone – it didn't matter, not now nor would it ever, looking at the ring of white that was practically made for you and fighting with yourself to keep the tears at bay. An emotional wreck you were most certainly not, but this was too much to stomach in one evening. You kept your head low as he continued his heartfelt plea to you, even shuffling closer to your naked body in an attempt to feel what you were feeling, not resisting a kiss to your temple. "That ring is a promise to protect you, to serve you, and to honour you as my significant other; I will be by your side as long as you need me, fighting for you all the way, making my name proud to be called yours. I will spend every minute of our time together falling in love with you more and more until my heart is ready to burst from my chest and into your hands where it rightfully belongs – where it's belonged all our lives." He took it from you and held it at the shell, ready to slide it onto your finger when you gave your answer. "If you accept this and wear it for the world to see, my life is yours from now until my last breath. I want to be yours, love, and I want you to be mine."

And there it was: the words you'd wanted to hear for as long as you could remember being said by the only true key to your heart. Your mind and body had taken and ungodly turn into a void untouched; the one you had forgotten existed until now when you were able to sample together its true meaning, feeling yourself slowly being sucked into a bright light that peered beyond the darkness of your never-ending belief that he was too good for you, shielding off forks amidst paths of endless possibility that allowed your own happiness to push through and grant you that extra grain of hope in the notion that maybe, just maybe, you'd strike it lucky and have him look at you with those penetrating blue eyes in a manner not only subjected between the lines of friendship. Oh, the days that had flown by when all you wanted to do was hold his hand, the countless hours spent doing homework and projects together, building you as a couple with a solid foundation for something more – whatever it may have been – and finally you were given your shot; here and now, nothing else mattered – it was just you and him to face the rest of the world together, fortifying the deep bond that you shared since your age ranged in single digits. Without command, tears had fallen onto your legs from nowhere, the lump in your throat prevailing as you endured what could easily and will forever be the best moment of your existence.

You were in such a haze that all you could do was stare at it glinting in his clutches while he tried to sooth the shock from your frame, knowing the answer he was going to get yet still revelling in the opportunity to hear you say it. Nero laid his head on your shoulder, forcing you to brave a gaze in his direction whilst internally falling apart piece by piece, his soft features popping the cherry on top of the ordeal you'd happily relive repeatedly. "Will you?"

Your try at responding was made worse by him setting his forehead against yours, being cute as hell and knowing it was killing you slowly from the inside out. With a gentle clear of your throat, an inaudible and hoarse 'yes' mumbled past your lips, another tear slipping through the cracks of your crumbling state. You tried a second time, nodding along to make it loud and clear for him in the hopes of ridding your mind of the fluffy pink cloud that came from the depths of your struggling chest.

The hand on you back disappeared to support your left as he slid the ring onto your finger; as you guessed it fit perfectly, clicking your true reality into place in taking one step closer to the comforting future Nero had set right before your very eyes. "You mean everything to me; I really want you to know that."

There mere fact that he was staring into your soul as he said those words were enough to set you on fire from the inside out, making your heart skip a beat with the added burden of searching for air to fill your lungs; his hands found your jaw and tilted your head to suit his level with no shame in sating his hunger in your mouth, beginning gently and leisurely working toward a tempo worthy of the elation he was experiencing, sneaking in adorable smiles in the times you mentally swore against the need for oxygen and returning his affection with equal vivacity while striving to internalise it all. He lingered on your lips some more, taking control of the kiss in its last stages and wiping away the two lone tracks down your cheeks, chuckling lightly as he kissed them softly and watched your entire face alter to an unsullied magenta. "Plus, now I can finally take you on a proper date."

The thought of being on a date with him prickled all the way to your core, knowing the slivers of romantics he kept hidden deep within his psyche. "What was today then?"

Nero squished his face in mock deep thought, looking to the ceiling and pouting his lips, earning a giggle from you that hauled your subconscious into its current state of reality; if you'd known better, you'd swear he was on the verge of tears as well, a small glisten to his eyes as the light hit him at the right angle as he contemplated a category for today's activities. "We can call it… meeting your soon-to-be brothers-in-law."

"I like that," you say, kissing him on his jaw and trailing to his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch as you sauntered to the tingly area under his ear and using your teeth and tongue to gently punish him for his friskiness earlier; Nero subtly grasped your neck and held you in place as you moved his silver strands away from your designated area, with him not-so-secretly moving his head to the opposite side to give you more room to play with. Even worse was the bite to his shoulder, compelling a fulfilling, undoing breath to seep from his lips, gripping your hair with both his hands as each carried out the opposing action of push and tug, needing freedom from your enthusiasm while soaking it all up for as long as it would last, allowing his eyes to roll in their sockets until he couldn't take it anymore.

You pulled him flat onto the bed and straddled his tummy to tease the other side of his neck, rendering him to whimpering chaos across the sheets in appreciation of his body, sucking and nipping and marking unashamedly marking the territory that now wholly belonged to you. You moaned into his skin, his only available reaction to voice his gratitude some more and claw at whatever parts of you his quivering hands could grab, turning his head in your direction for you to stop and thanking your mutual stubbornness for not giving in so easily. "What are you doing?"

You had hit a vital point with your incisor, causing his hips to involuntarily jolt upward. "I'm basking in the moment, Nero."

He had had just about enough, sitting up straight and carrying you in his arms to your previous position on the bed, dropping you like a hot potato on the duvet and ruthlessly splitting your legs while sinking between them. "Bask later; I'm still making love to you." Nero traced the length of your arms with his hands, entwining your fingers and raising them above your head as he stretched you to your limit, nestling his tip comfortably at your entrance as he looked deep into your eyes and thrust forward, mutual convulsions wracking your frames from the new meaning it will now take, holding you gaze and coyly kissing your lips repeatedly in time with his hastening thrusts; soft and lingering with his deeper strokes, adding his tongue to the mix for the quicker brushes along your walls until he collapsed on top of you and loosened the grip on your hands, moving them over his neck as they snaked behind your back.

He breathed deep in your ear, echoing through your brittle form in a futile effort to prepare you for what was to come; he secured his knees on either side of your body locking your legs into place around his back and paced a slow, pulsating plunge along your throbbing walls, constricting his spine to hold his position and stay embedded in you, allowing you to feel all of him and his unearthly glory beating and expanding in your tight heat. You knew you were in trouble when your legs started shaking uncontrollably, moaning between your teeth at his immobile state of unparalleled power moulding you to his outright arousal; you were in a fitting position to steal a peek at the ring on your finger as it crunched his strands of the same colour, smiling at the knowledge of savouring the many days left of eternity for you to share, the moment quickly short-lived by yet another growl stemming from his mouth as he pulled you into his chest…

…yet another thing you could look forward to for the rest of your life…