Vergil knows that their time in the air is limited, mostly due to the strain of maintaining his Devil Trigger over prolonged periods of time, but even more so with the way Dante's wrapped around him. The position allows for Dante's body to rub up against his, and while he normally would not mind…his ability to fly is being severely affected. He is not even able to think straight beyond the need to find them a secluded spot so that he can properly claim Dante.

That Dante has an extra twenty years of life experience is not something that Vergil is bothered by. If anything, Dante's knowledge is a boon, and Vergil is going to use that knowledge so that he can better protect the other half of his soul. But right now….

Right now, the tenuous control Vergil has over his instincts is quickly fraying, and the grasp he has on Dante is beginning to shift the more that his instincts start to take over. It changes from the simple carry hold he has been using to keep Dante close to a tight grip on his brother's hips that lets him increase the friction and pressure between them, turning the occasional rubbing of their bodies into sensual, drawn-out grinding. And then Dante starts mouthing at his neck and Vergil's instincts solidly take over that very instant.

He immediately drops out of the sky and down into the forest that lays north of Redgrave City, barely missing the trees that are in his path. His landing is more akin to a tumble—which neither of them seem to notice nor do they particularly care—that carves several deep gouges into the hard-packed soil of the forest floor and leaves Vergil sprawled out on his back with Dante perched atop him.

Dante's gaze, a vibrant red whilst he is in his Devil Trigger, connects with Vergil's, and then Dante gives a slow roll of his hips, prompting Vergil to tighten the grip he has on them as he meets the motion with an upwards thrust. The contact, while pleasurable, is not anywhere near enough, and Vergil growls in frustration as the current forms of their Devil Triggers are the result of what they were wearing prior to transformation.

In the blink of an eye, as if they have reached the very same conclusion at the exact same time, they both revert to their human forms and start fumbling with each others' clothes. Buckles and buttons are undone; coats, clothes, and boots (a singular pair) are shucked off; and their respective swords are tossed aside, leaving them naked within a matter of minutes several feet from where they began and with Dante now pressed against the ground.

Vergil takes a few seconds to sweep his gaze over Dante, as if admiring the sight of his twin laid out beneath him and committing it to memory before he leans down and slots his mouth against Dante's in a hungry kiss. His hands wander back down to Dante's hips, fingertips gliding over the lithe musculature of Dante's abdomen on the way, and he grips them hard enough to leave behind bruises when Dante arches up into him. The raw contact is so much more for his lack of experience, and yet he knows that this much can barely even be called foreplay.

"Vergil," Dante whimpers into the kiss, and the pure need in his brother's voice has Vergil drawing back until he is kneeling, in seiza, between Dante's legs. The sight of Dante sprawled out before him paints an even prettier picture now than he did a moment ago, his cheeks flushed and chest heaving as he watches Vergil with such unadulterated desire in his eyes, and a frown starts to mar his face.

With his gaze resolutely fixed on Dante's, Vergil lifts his right hand to his mouth and bites into his thumb, and an inkling of realization breaks across Dante's face, his pupils shrinking as blood wells from the punctures made by his naturally sharper teeth. He smears it over his index and middle fingers until they are amply coated, and then he reaches down between them, with Dante now tracking the movement of his hand, to trace a blood-slicked digit around the pucker of flesh that is his brother's entrance.

He takes in how Dante quivers slightly at the touch, his brother's scent rife with anticipation and heady arousal, and it takes every ounce of what little control Vergil has left to simply go slow. Even with his instincts guiding his actions, he has enough awareness to know that Dante is untouched, that these preparations are necessary. He has no desire to hurt his soon-to-be mate, even in this, and so when he does start to press a single digit into Dante, he takes his time and scrutinizes Dante's face for any signs of discomfort.

"Verge, please, just fuck me already," Dante whines instead, impatience bleeding into his scent and voice, which Vergil does his best to ignore as he continues to press his finger slowly and methodically into Dante's tight passage. Only it is not so easy to ignore Dante when he pushes himself up onto his elbows and bears down on Vergil's finger to get things moving faster, and what little control Vergil had regained over himself is simply gone.

Vergil fluidly shifts back into his Devil Trigger as he withdraws his finger from within Dante, who has also returned to his ruby-scaled Devil Trigger form in perfect synchronization with him, and then he rolls Dante over onto his knees. In one quick motion, he hauls Dante's ass into the air and rises to his knees to guide himself into Dante's practically unprepared passage with his blood-smeared fingers.

The traces of blood just barely serve as enough lubrication for Vergil to bury his cock within Dante in a single thrust, but the incredible tightness quite literally punches the breath from his lungs, and he very nearly comes undone on the spot, pressed flush against his brother. He holds himself still, his claws digging into Dante's hips, and tries to let himself to adjust to the feel of Dante so intimately wrapped around him, to the sense of wholeness that settles in his soul with their joining, but he does not get the chance to because-

"Oh, fuck, Vergil," Dante gasps out, not sounding the least bit pained given the circumstances, and then Dante does the unthinkable and clenches down on his length. It is the final push Vergil needs to be sent over the edge, and he lets out a choked off moan, his vision going white, as his orgasm crashes through him.