Archive of Our Own

It pounds in Vergil's head. Veins throb, and a dull, blunt pain keeps knocking on his nape. He stirs awake with a blurry vision, sight slowly adjusting to the darkness he finds himself in.

It's a small, empty room with a low ceiling and covered windows. The lines of his surroundings keep fading, and then drifting back into sight. Vergil feels the place where he lies, his fingertips discovering something soft and firm, once he really digs in. A bed of some kind. He tries turning his head, but his neck is much too stiff for such bold motion. There's a blanket, he finds, bundled to the side of him and plenty of pillows. Three, he counts, though they only start to find shape in his slowly recovering vision.

He can't remember—

A sharp clink reaches his ears as he tries moving. Vergil raises his hands only to find them chained, hard metal shackles around his wrists and a round bar between them. He tries kicking off the blanket that covers his lower body. Cold seeps into his thighs. His bare legs are bound in a similar manner, shackles around the slender ankles and a wider bar propped between them, keeping him from properly closing his knees. The shirt he still wears, he remembers selecting this morning.

Vergil snatches the chain that begins from his wrists and follows it to the link nailed into the concrete floor. He yanks it hard, yielding a crackle of demonic energy from the metal. Gives him pause. He summons his devil, but feels only a light, fleeting brush of his strength. The power coils inside of him, purring eagerly, but never releasing. The chains glow faintly in answer to Vergil's resistance, sapping all that he has to offer.

His heart jumps into his throat and his lungs tighten. He yanks again, harder— so hard that his hands ache and his bones quake.

A shriek spills from his lips. Vergil keeps pulling the chain, childishly, weakly, until his voice dies a slow death in his throat and his legs stop uselessly kicking at the mattress. He lets go and slumps down.

It's a dream— it's another nightmare, it's not real!

Vergil hears a creak up above. He scouts the room, though his eyes still refuse to focus. Whatever poison slugs through his veins still takes a mighty effect on him.

A faint light breaches the space. It's a staircase that creaks, old wood lamenting under the weight of a descending person. Vergil shuffles further from the beam of light, as far as he can get until the chains tighten. He's killed a person with less than a pillow before, he consoles himself.

Much to his surprise and devastation, Vergil recognizes the shape of the arrival. His terror flees him then, but only for a moment.

"Dante", he says with a wretched throat, and inches closer.

Dante doesn't move with the urgency that Vergil would like for someone intended to rush to his aid. He stands at the foot of the stairs, one hand around the railing as if he needs the support.

"Didn't think you'd wake up so soon", Dante sounds peculiar, his voice thicker than usual. Bloodless and humorless.

Vergil's brows fold, and his fear shifts to rage.

"Is this some immature prank of yours?" he hisses.

"No, it's not"

"I don't know what you were thinking, but I'm not entertained"

"Figures"

Vergil seethes, yanking the chain again. "Dante." It's not enough to make him move. "Will you stop it?"

"Mmh, sorry", Dante mutters, absent-minded. He does walk closer, not quite looking at Vergil, though Vergil is glaring at him, only wishing he could jump Dante's throat and squeeze the life out of him for pulling off something this moronic and plain heartless. 

Vergil extends his shackled hands.

"Dante", he insists, "take these off."

"Would that I could"

"What are you talking about?" Vergil's voice draws into a snarl. "You're being cruel, this isn't amusing"

"I know. I'm sorry. I tried to think of any other way— literally any other way, but I couldn't. I'm so sorry. I know it's gotta be scary for you. I really wanted to be down here when you wake up, so you wouldn't think—"

"I'm not scared. Set me free, and maybe I won't bite your head off, you absolute pest"

Dante sits down on the edge of the mattress, evidently with no intention of freeing Vergil from his restraints. He looks elsewhere, avoiding the piercing glare Vergil gives him.

"Dante", Vergil tries again, softer, the fright of it all now squeezing in his chest, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry", Dante says again, and finally turns to face Vergil. He's got a terrible look in his eyes like he's surrendered. "You were talking about leaving me again. I didn't have a choice. Can't lose you again"

Vergil struggles to inhale. "What?"

"You were gonna leave me alone. I can't let that happen. You're just gonna do some dumb shit again and get yourself hurt. I can't see you hurt again, Vergil, I fucking can't"

The revelation hits Vergil like a bucket of ice-cold water. Dante means to imprison him; take his freedom and shackle him into this room— for what? All his fear becomes hate and his hatred turns to vehemence. His little brother, the only one who knows the horrors Vergil has endured, wishes to reduce him to another life of captivity.

Vergil snarls and yanks the chains, "I'm going to cut you in two."

"Yeah, figured you might wanna"

"I'll bury you under this concrete once I'm done with you. Nobody will ever find what's left of you"

"That's alright by me"

"I'm going to kill you, Dante, and I won't feel the slightest bit of remorse watching life leave your eyes"

"Yeah, bet you won't"

Dante rises from where he sits and heads back to the staircase. Vergil writhes madly in his chains.

"Dante!" he shouts. "I hope you rot in Hell for this"

"I'll be back later, once you've calmed down a bit, okay?" 

Vergil watches, his jaw wound tight, as Dante walks up the stairs and vanishes. The beam of light that breached the room wanes as the door falls shut. His blood seething, Vergil turns to the metal link, tracing the nails with his fingers and desperately scratching narrow, white marks along the accursed contraption, only serving to dirty his hands with dust.

The nails remain drilled into the concrete. Vergil studies the shackles around his wrists, in as much detail as he can in the darkness. A thin line of padding peeks from beneath the metal, nestled against his skin. They’re meant to be comfortable; he won’t chafe and bleed in his restraints, no matter how hard he struggles and kicks. That only feeds his fury.

Vergil raises his wrists and takes the chain between his teeth. Splits a tooth, nothing more.

Though the chains may be padded, finding a comfortable position does not come with ease. With the bars between his wrists and ankles, Vergil may choose between exactly two: his back or his stomach, and why he would ever choose the latter, he can’t picture. He stares into the dark ceiling, listening to any sounds that echo from the floor above. He suspects he’s trapped in a basement, because sometimes he hears steps approach the staircase, but the door never opens, as if Dante contemplates whether he should come down or not.

Vergil hopes he doesn’t. He hopes he will. Can’t distinguish the difference between those two wants anymore when he lies alone in a bed that’s too cold, unable to move his body at will. When the staircase creaks, Vergil sits up, his chest rising with anticipation.

Dante descends the steps, carrying something. He brings down a lamp and another blanket. Sets the light down on the dresser.

“Can you reach it?” he asks and beckons to the switch.

Vergil doesn’t try. He looks past Dante, where the light from upstairs hits the floor.

“I know you’re real pissed off, but I’m trying to make it nice for you here. I know how you feel about the dark, so would you please work with me here?” Dante suggests.

It’s a rather ironic thing to say for someone insistent on tormenting Vergil with the horror of his past, stripped off his blade and power. Without a word, Vergil shuffles closer to the dresser and flicks the switch on the lamp’s cord. Off and on again.

“Nice”, Dante says, almost too playfully, before offering Vergil the blanket.

Vergil rears back from him like a snake ready to strike. He will, should Dante be foolish enough to get too close. He’ll wrap the loose end of the chain around Dante’s throat and squeeze the life out of him.

“Was gonna offer you a kiss, too, but I guess you’re not in the mood”, Dante deems, rightfully.

It doesn’t mean Dante pulls away. He carefully lays the blanket over Vergil’s legs, never bringing his face too close. Vergil stares at the crook of Dante’s neck. Would happily sink his teeth in and tear it open.

“Need anything else? I was going through your books, but wasn't sure what you’d like to read”, Dante goes on.

Vergil resists the urge to roll his eyes. Dante seems keen on thinking they will simply continue their lives in this new mold, as if Vergil will just let Dante kiss away this insult and they’ll be happy ever after. A taste of copper rises on Vergil’s tongue. Has accidentally bitten the inside of his mouth.

“You’re giving me the silent treatment now, huh?”

Dante doesn’t sound particularly irritated. He looks like he’s about to get up.

“Why?” Vergil despises the thinness of his own voice. Only a thread that will snap at any moment. “Are you— retaliating for something I have done?”

“No”, Dante answers much too gently for Vergil’s liking.

“Then why?”

“I told you why”

“You don’t need to hurt me to make me stay with you”

Dante quickly kneels beside him. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Vergil”

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I know you. I know what would happen if I didn’t”

Vergil shakes his head at Dante, teeth gritted together. Gives him strength and turns his voice into a hiss, “It must thrill you to humiliate me like this.”

“I promise you it doesn’t”

“Liar”

“You’ll hate me forever, fine. You’ll never stop wanting to kill me, what else’s new? I can live with all that, but I can’t live without you, that’s the one thing I just won’t do. Never again.” Vergil stares at him, unblinking, until Dante gets up. “Gonna bring you some books later. Let me know if you want something particular”

Vergil can’t think of reading right now when all he wants is to paint the ground red with Dante’s insides. His eyes follow as Dante vanishes up the stairs.

As soon as the footsteps fade, Vergil yanks the cord of the light Dante brought him. The lamp comes tumbling down the dresser, and darkness wraps around him again. Vergil fumbles the concrete floor for the shards of the bulb. Collects one in his hand and, without hesitation, slices open his wrist. Blood spills out, slicking the shackle. He begins methodically fitting it over his wrist, squeezing his thumb on the inside of his palm and pulling, ever so much further.

Above him, Vergil hears footsteps on the ceiling again. He yanks harder and slips his hand free, gushing blood all over himself. Bites his teeth to conceal the hurt.

“Vergil? Vergil!”

Perhaps Dante can smell that he bleeds. Vergil certainly can. He doesn’t have the time to free his other hand in time before the door flies open, and Dante hurries downstairs. Instead, he takes the piece of glass and squeezes it tight in his grip.

“Vergil!” There’s an unmatched horror in Dante’s voice that almost makes Vergil feel bad. But as his brother tries charging him, Vergil shouts wildly and slashes him across the face with the shard.

Dante stumbles back, holding his hand over the cut on his cheek.

“Don’t come near me”, Vergil snarls.

“What, you’re gonna kill me with a piece of glass?” It sounds to amuse Dante.

“Matter of fact, I won’t”

Vergil holds the shard against his own throat, pressing angrily on an artery, to demonstrate he’s perfectly severe. “I won’t live like this again.” No tremor in his icy tone. “I’ll cut myself open, Dante. I can’t heal myself fast enough unless you free me. You said you can’t live without me, it’s a shame I may not be here to witness how you fare”

“Wait, Vergil—“

“What shall it be?”

“How about we think about this for a minute?”

“I can’t— not again”

“This is how you wanna go?”

Blood spills between Vergil’s knuckles. He scoffs. “Do you think I fear death?”

“But you’ve fought for so long. You would just give up and off yourself over something like this? Isn’t that against your code?”

Vergil’s grasp wavers. It’s a disgrace, that much is true, to end it by one’s own hand. Not a whole lot of choice, Dante has left him. For many years, Vergil thought he would find peace by Dante’s hand and meet his end in battle. For some reason, these things never seem to unwind the way he would prefer them to. It must show in his eyes, because Dante dares inch closer.

“I never meant to hurt you”, Dante’s voice softens. “You gotta know me better than that. I just got you back, and I promise, hand on the holy book, I promise, I’ll take care of you. Give me a chance to show you, please? Please, Vergil?”

Even if Dante won’t hoist him for flogging until his flesh peels off or burn him where his skin is thinnest, the chains will still remain. Vergil doesn’t fear pain as much as Dante assumes; he fears what the pain does to his mind.

Dante moves closer, showing his empty hands as a sign of truce. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you again. I’ll keep you safe. You believe me, right? Trust me?”

Vergil wants to. The shard quivers in his grasp, and he lets Dante bring it down. A narrow streak of blood drips down his neck. He’s sliced his palm open, having held the shard so tightly. Dante takes it from him and instead rips a piece from the sheets to wrap around the wounds Vergil has made on his wrist.

“Put pressure there. Can you do that for me?”

Vergil nods and brings his still-chained hand over the injured one. The bar that was previously between his wrists is now left hanging loose on his lap. For a moment, Dante leaves, but not for long. Vergil sits motionless, too idle to staunch the bleeding. Without his full power, he’s slow to heal, the wound knitting itself shut lazily as fog from the blood loss collects in Vergil’s eyes.

“Shit, you went pale”, Dante points out, once again seated next to him. “Let me see that.” He takes Vergil’s hand and examines the wound. “You really scared the hell out of me”

Vergil raises his head and meets Dante's eyes, full of worry and fondness.

“I’ll find a way”, Vergil warns him.

“Knowing you, that’s likely”

“What will you do then?”

“Dunno yet. But you’re not getting another lamp”

“I thought as much”

“You gotta let me try, Vergil”

“Try what?”

“To make you comfortable”

Vergil huffs, exhausted. “Then at least take off these accursed things. I can’t— lie down on my side”

“I’ll do that if you stop trying stunts like this”

“You want me to be a dream captive for you? Cast aside my dignity and fall in love with you?”

Dante has the audacity to grin. “That’d be nice, won’t lie”

A touch creeps up Vergil’s thigh. He looks down and discovers Dante’s hand resting on his bare skin. Once, it could bring end to all his war. Vergil doesn’t have the strength to push back when Dante comes closer and rests his forehead on the side of Vergil’s head. Whispers in his ear, “I just wanna keep you safe, baby.”

“Don’t call me that”, Vergil says dryly.

“You got every right to be upset with me"

“The bleeding has stopped”

“Look at that”

Vergil turns his head away when Dante takes his hand. Every instinct is telling him to fight and shriek like a wild animal. Vergil acts on none of it, and the shackle clicks shut around his wrist again. Beside him, Dante starts collecting the remaining shards of the light bulb.

“You wanna be alone?” Dante asks.

“I can’t say”, Vergil admits truthfully.

“Could make you a little something to eat”

“I would rather sip venom through a straw”

“Guessing that’s a no”

Vergil lowers himself to the mattress. Eases the lightness he feels in the back of his head.

“You want the books?” Dante suggests.

“I could read”

Dante seems more than happy to run between the basement and the upstairs. He brings down a stack of books he’s selected from the bookshelf Vergil has taken to maintaining. Leaves them on the floor next to the dresser.

“Gonna leave the door open, just holler if you need something”, Dante says kindly.

That’s quite the predicament. Vergil will need help with the smallest of things when he can barely move on his own in the manner that he’s bound. It must be the intention to make him reliant on Dante.

Vergil holds onto his pride and his tongue, and in his silence, Dante goes back upstairs. The beam of light remains on the floor, a small consolation.

As the hours slug on, Vergil dozes off. It’s the unfortunate aspect of being half-human, as healing requires plenty of rest. In his moments of awareness, Vergil listens for Dante’s movements. Knowing Dante is not far keeps his breath from hitching. Vergil wiggles himself up to sit when he hears the staircase.

“You were asleep when I checked in on you”, says Dante in his approach.

“I was”, Vergil admits.

“There’s some blood on you”

Vergil says nothing to the obvious statement.

“I’ll help you shower if you want”, Dante continues.

As much as Vergil would like to be clean, he’s not fond of the concept of needing Dante’s help to bathe while chained.

“Why don’t you boil some water and throw it on me?” Vergil suggests, dry as bone.

“Is that what happened in Hell?”

“Whenever my wounds festered”

“It’s not like that now”

“It’s not? You may not want to torture me, but you do want to break me. I assure you, taking one’s vanity is very effective”

“Don’t say things like that”

Why it seems to discomfort Dante, is beyond Vergil’s understanding. Dante should be thrilled by the advice, as Vergil is making it easy for him, and yet he receives no gratitude.

“I get very docile when I’m burned. I can’t take heat well, Dante, that should give you no pause. I know you’re very good at melting flesh off bone”, Vergil says.

Dante’s voice rises, “Stop it, Vergil!”

“Just an idea”

“You’re angry, I get it, and it’d probably be easier for you to hate me if I did hurt you, but don’t go projecting on me the things you’ve suffered in the past.” Vergil glares at him, seething within. “If you change your mind, let me know. For now, I’m just— gonna sit here with you, is that alright?”

Dante does exactly as he claims, sitting next to the bedding. Vergil doesn’t know why Dante bothers to ask him for permission when he clearly doesn’t need any. So, entirely out of courtesy, Vergil nods once.

“You’ll see”, Dante continues and carefully rubs his hand over Vergil’s knee, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Vergil wishes he could at least kick Dante. In a twisted way, Dante is in the right. He’s never been much of a sadist, even if at times he finds glee in Vergil’s misery and makes it known.

“I could have a bath”, Vergil mutters.

That seems to delight Dante, “Sure, just a minute.” He gets up and hurries upstairs, hopping up two steps at a time.

Vergil sits quietly, waiting, regret gnawing at him. Has he gone so soft that he yields this easily when offered the faintest comfort? Even in the basement, Vergil can hear the water rushing through the pipes. Dante returns and frees Vergil’s legs. The chains around his wrists clink when the link loosens.

“You’re not worried I’ll run?” Vergil asks.

“I don’t think you’ll make it very far”, Dante chuckles. “You can try, if you’d like. We did love playing tag when we were kids, didn’t we?”

“I don’t recall”

With Dante’s hand around his waist, Vergil rises to stand. Gets to stretch himself. Dante reaches for him as if he means to carry him.

“Let me walk”, Vergil insists.

“Sure, yeah, whatever you prefer”

Dante keeps uncomfortably close, his hand hovering over the small of Vergil’s back as if he’s worried Vergil will tip over on the stairs. His legs do feel awfully wobbly, so perhaps it’s not a concern entirely uncalled for.

They’re in the house still, the location of their tragically failed coexistence. Vergil knows his way into the bathroom, where the tub still fills.

“You need to undress me”, Vergil points out.

“Got that right”, Dante sighs. His solution is to rip the shirt off Vergil and yank down the waistband of his underwear.

“You did not think this through”

“Maybe not”

“I’ll need to be set free so I can dress myself”

“Not a chance, Vergil”

“You plan to keep me naked?”

“You have blankets”

“Why did you undress me in the first place?” Vergil searches for Dante’s eyes, but they’re quick to elude him. “Did you want to touch me while I can’t refuse you?”

“No”, Dante’s in a hurry to deny it.

“I’ve not been raped before, if you were wondering”

“I wasn’t. Just— let’s just get you in the bath”

Vergil shrugs and lets Dante help him into the tub. The water nears steaming, clasping onto his body. It soothes him well enough for Vergil to rest his head back and drop his shackled hands into the water. Almost lets his eyes fall shut before he feels Dante’s touch on his chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vergil asks.

“Washing you?” Dante sits on the edge of the tub.

“I can manage alone”

“Sure, but I’d like to do it”

Vergil frowns at him. He’s no child in need of help on every mundane ask. Why Dante is suddenly so keen on servicing him, Vergil can’t reason. He would prefer they continued to haunt and stab each other. At least that he knows.

“If you must”, Vergil allows.

Dante must, with utmost gentleness. It’s cruel, Vergil thinks, that one moment Dante wishes to degrade and imprison him, and another he’s scrubbing Vergil clean of dust and dried blood as if it’s a holy service. Dante doesn’t even seem to care that the sleeve of his shirt gets wet.

Once the hand tries delving between his legs, Vergil pulls his knees together.

“Okay, you prude”, Dante complains, “I can take the hint.”

“It’s not prudish to wish for some privacy”

“I wouldn’t say no to a sloppy handy in the tub if you offered”

“That, I don’t doubt, little brother”

“Not even a kiss?”

“Dante”

“I get it, you’re not in the mood”

Irritation rears its head. Vergil frowns. “You must have lost your wit if you think I’ll get in the mood after you imprisoned me in what was supposed to be our home”

“You never know. We did get together, like lovers, sort of”

“We were lovers”

Dante looks frozen in place. “You wouldn’t— even consider?”

“What’s there to consider?”

“We were so good together”

“My current state must really speak on this goodness”

Dante rubs on Vergil’s arm as if that will sway him. Vergil suspects it’s not shame that weighs down Dante’s eyes.

“No reason why we couldn’t continue from where we left off”, Dante says.

Vergil side eyes him. “You jest”

“I know you’re angry now but in time—“

“Get me off this tub”

“Vergil”

“I’m ready to go back to that cold hole in the ground where you’ll keep me.” Vergil rises from the tub in a hurry, pushing past Dante and dripping water all over him.

As expected, Dante grabs him and pulls Vergil into his arms.

“Vergil”, Dante tries again.

“Don’t!” Vergil snarls in his face. “You exploit the things I’ve suffered for your own entertainment, and then you dare insult me like this. I won’t be a doll for you to keep and groom to your liking”

“’Course not. I don’t wanna offend you, just thought you might use some pampering”

“Pampering? By bathing me?”

“Would also like to dry you”

In his infinite wisdom, Dante offers Vergil a towel, and Vergil faces the ceiling in surrender. He lets Dante wrap the towel around him, gently pressing down the droplets of water. Somehow, it must also smother Vergil’s rage.

“I never planned to leave you, Dante. Not… permanently”, Vergil whispers.

“Yeah, maybe you didn’t”

“Then why are you so adamant that I would?”

“Because it just always happens, no matter what either of us got to say about it”

Vergil supposes that much is true. How his confinement shall keep the universe from destroying them again by design, he can’t say, but Dante is sickened by loss, and though Vergil must suffer for it, he spares Dante some sympathy. Their separation is a wound that has never properly healed. Dante doesn’t wish it torn open again.

“Do you think... maybe you’d wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” Dante suggests.

“I think not”, Vergil answers.

Dante accepts it with a stiff nod. He takes Vergil by the arm, terribly gently, and leads him back downstairs. Vergil doesn’t resist when his chains become attached to the concrete links again, though he finds them looser this time than before. A bit more length for him to move around.

“Want me to get you anything?” Dante offers. Vergil shakes his head lazily and lies down. “Could stay with you a minute if you don’t mind”

“I don’t mind”, Vergil answers.

It’s, to his misfortune, the truth, given that imprisonment is lonely work. Dante wordlessly offers to tuck him in, holding the blanket up, and Vergil allows him with a slow blink of his eyes. He’s left naked in the makeshift bed, the towel still around him, and the blanket covering him.

“It won’t happen, you realize that”, Vergil says as he stares blankly at the ceiling.

“Hm?” Dante sounds barely concentrated.

“You’re not breaking me. I’ve been tried before, and you’re not exactly qualified to compete. Soft pillows and warm baths won’t succeed where flogs and blades failed”

“I’m not trying to break you”

“Then how do you suppose you will make this work? If you avert your eye for a moment, I will end you”

“I’m used to that. Like coming home”

Vergil doesn’t disagree.

Vergil stirs awake to the odd of sensation of something heavy crawling over him, pinning down his body and latching his breath. At first, he assumes it's simply a dream, some remnant of the nightmares from his past life now awakened by his captivity, but the feeling does not weaken as Vergil opens his eyes and tries kicking his legs.

For a fleeting moment, Vergil forgets he's shackled, and the sound of the chains clinking stills his entire body. His confinement dawns on him, akin to a disliked memory he would rather forget. He doesn't recall falling asleep in this position, either, splayed out on his belly with his bound hands extended above his head. The pillow Vergil has favored doesn't slip far from his grasp.

He hears Dante's voice somewhere above him, "Vergil."

What exactly Dante thinks he's doing, Vergil can't say. He snarls between his teeth and jerks his body in an effort to push Dante off him. It serves little purpose when one is restrained so tightly.

"Get off me", Vergil hisses.

Revelation starts a slow crawl up Vergil's spine. Dante doesn't move; he's positioned over Vergil, a knee parting his thighs, one hand holding down the bar between Vergil's wrists. Vergil can't raise himself any further, can't contest the crushing grip that holds him down. They're skin to skin, in warmth Vergil feels explicitly, and does not welcome. Dante's erection strains heavy against the back of Vergil's thigh.

"I’m sorry about this", Dante says thickly, "I'm gonna be gentle, though, I promise."

Vergil's answer, whatever it may have been, chokes down in his throat. The smell of smoke and alcohol floods Vergil's senses, and dread starts to rise like nausea within him, bubbling through his chest.

Dante plants a wet kiss on Vergil's cheek as if that will ease his quickening breath. In the corner of his eye, Vergil notices a dark blue bottle and recognizes it as lube. He closes his eyes when Dante stuffs two of his slicked fingers inside of Vergil, probing him in strokes that are cruelly slow— he must feel everything, how Dante pries him open, and forces his body to yield despite the cry in his throat protesting the assault.

"Please, don't struggle. I don't want it to hurt you", Dante murmurs.

Vergil can't struggle in his chains. Can't even pull his legs together with the metal bar spreading them apart. He lies paralyzed when Dante enters him, pushing the blunt cockhead past the rim. The shriek Vergil lets out gets muffled in his pillow.

"I'm so sorry", Dante keeps saying, "stings a little, I know"

It doesn't sting, it stabs Vergil in the belly like a knife. He twists the pillow in his hands and exhales sharply, the intrusion drawing gooseflesh all over his arms and shuddering him with repulsion. Dante buries himself deeper, in thrusts that begin shallow and end breaching Vergil to the core.

"You feel amazing, baby", Dante huffs, running his hand over Vergil's arm. "You're being so good to me, Vergil, you just gotta take it a bit longer"

Dante rocks his hips, pulling back only to press his cock back inside Vergil's heat. Each thrust guts him, splitting him open wider and with ever-waning mercy. Vergil feels Dante's cheek rest against his, flushed hot, and no matter where Vergil tries to turn, he's unable to escape it.

"Shush, don't move, you're gonna hurt yourself. I'll be done soon, I promise, just a little more"

Vergil begs to differ it's not the weak writhing of his person that brings the pain, but the quickening thrusts of Dante’s hips. Has about as much patience as a deviant. Dante holds him in place, one arm wrapped around Vergil's upper body and his legs locking down Vergil's, reducing all his fight to worthless whining, all the while Dante gets to keep raping him without contest. Not that Vergil thinks he could offer any were his limbs mobile. This is his little brother ruining him, taking him apart to sate a twisted pleasure Vergil can't name. How could he ever recover from the sheer dismay to defend himself, even if he had a blade in his hand?

Dante keeps whispering his apologies in Vergil's ear, his voice cracking so suddenly that Vergil suspects Dante is about to shed a tear for him. "I'm sorry if it hurts, Vergil, you feel so perfect— please forgive me"

The solemn plea turns into a string of unhinged grunts. Dante finishes inside Vergil, filling him with a warm load of come. The thrusts of his hips die down, and soon Vergil feels only the smoldering aftershock as Dante pulls out of him, some of his mess spilling out. Vergil hisses as his hole continues to throb from the abuse.

Dante presses a kiss on the top of Vergil's head.

"You did incredible, baby. I'm sorry I hurt you, I won't do it again", Dante whispers to him.

A promise void of integrity. Dante has no self-discipline. He's not the type of person to deny himself an indulgence when one is in sight, and that's exactly what Vergil has become. Easy to claim, always at Dante's disposal should he get the urge to masturbate himself with a warm body that can't flee him.

Vergil rests his head on the pillow, staring at where a thread stands loose from the sheets. Wishes Dante would leave him alone now that he's taken what he wanted, so Vergil could weep. A part of him thrills when Dante actually gets up.

Instead of doing what's expected of him, Dante doesn't stay away for long. He comes back with a warm, damp towel and tidies Vergil between his legs, wiping down the mix of lube and come. Vergil wonders if he's bled, but refuses to ask.

"Gonna let you go back to sleep", Dante says as he runs a soothing hand over Vergil's shoulder. "Sorry I woke you up for this. I feel terrible about it"

Vergil says nothing. The hand on his shoulder leaves, and Dante pulls the blanket over him. Gives him one more kiss on the cheek.

"Want me to leave the door open?"

Vergil nods, though he can't claim he paid any mind to the light that's pooling in from upstairs.

"Good night, Vergil"

Dante gets up and the stairs creak as he ascends them. Why Dante doesn't stay downstairs and sleep with him, bothers Vergil more than it should. Perhaps he's not worth that much effort. The lifeless fuck Dante took out of him wasn't good enough.

The pillow under Vergil's cheek quickly dampens with tears. 

One loses time quickly in confinement, Vergil knows from experience. He can’t think of which day it is when he next wakes up. He’s bundled up in warmth underneath the blankets, a faint light cast on him somewhere behind him.

Slowly, he raises his head and finds the lamp placed on the ground a fair distance from him. Dante must have replaced the light bulb. Another apology, Vergil supposes. He pushes the pillow from underneath his head and drops onto the mattress, his body aching bluntly from last night. Desperate to have some movement to his legs, Vergil shifts his knees as much as he can. It’s not much. He suffocates a whimper behind his teeth.

“Good morning!” he hears Dante’s voice from the staircase. It sounds much too glad.

Vergil answers nothing, not even as Dante walks over to him and sits beside him.

Only once a hand comes to rest over his shoulder, Vergil jerks away.

“Don’t touch me”, he says lazily, without any true bite.

“I’m sorry”, Dante echoes the same sentence he repeated throughout the night as if it means something when he keeps renewing his vice, regardless. “Was thinking of making some breakfast. You want anything? I’d really like to see you eat something”

Vergil stares as Dante's hand moves down his arm, and the thumb starts drawing circles. Dante does as he likes now; he will touch him on a whim, mount him like a dog if he wants, and act deaf to all of Vergil’s resistance. Gone is all his autonomy. He bothers only to shake his head and drops himself back on the pillow.

Dante seems to pay some attention, because his hand stops and his voice thins, “Does it still hurt?”

Vergil blinks, too tired to nod.

“Want me to just let you rest? I could make you a bath if you wanna relax?”

“I was so much better off without you”, Vergil drawls. “I can’t believe how badly I missed you when we were apart.” He watches with contempt as Dante starts to frown. “I was so foolish I thought you’d come to my aid, eventually. I thought you cared enough to save me”

“I didn’t know— I didn’t know what happened to you”

“Don’t bore me with your explanation”

“I wanna do right by you now”

“You go about it in a twisted way, little brother”

Dante doesn’t argue that. At least he’s not a hypocrite.

"I really wanna stay with you right now", Dante mutters as he caresses Vergil's shoulder. "But I'm not gonna if you'd rather I didn't"

"You have already made it known my consent has absolutely no meaning to you", Vergil says coldly. “Will you tell me what has driven you to these measures?”

Dante swallows, drooping his head like a sad dog. Vergil pities him, and this pity does not come with kindness.

"You never let me be close before. You always kept your distance, even when we slept together. Never let me cuddle you, couldn't even kiss you good morning without you snapping at me. You were just... stone-cold"

As Dante goes on to explain himself, meek and utterly pathetic, Vergil rolls his eyes.

"What relief it must be for you now to force yourself on me", he says.

"I don't wanna force you. I was just thinking— fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. I had a couple of drinks, and I missed you so much. I thought that maybe when you see it's not actually that bad, you'd let me be with you"

"It's not that bad", Vergil repeats mockingly. "You're such a simpleton"

"You get to choose now, Vergil, do you want me to stay?"

Vergil doesn't believe Dante cares for his opinion. Last night, he certainly did not. Vergil wants to push him away just because he can— he could before all this, when he had to maintain some of himself when Dante began showing a very particular affection towards him. Their two-decade separation was much too quick to turn them into lovers when they were finally reunited. Vergil regrets it now. He opened a door that should've forever remained shut to Dante. Why, he remembers clear as day.

He didn't want to be alone anymore.

"Yes, stay", he allows in a whisper.

Dante doesn't proceed to tease him. He lies down beside Vergil and throws an arm over his waist, shuffling closer with the tempting warmth that only he can bring.

"You manage to sleep at all?" Dante asks.

"Not very well"

"Is that— something I could maybe fix?"

"These insufferable props"

"Let me see"

Dante climbs over Vergil and frees his legs from the bar. The shackles remain, but Vergil immediately seizes the opportunity to turn on his side, exhaling heavily in relief.

"Thought you were a back-sleeper", Dante says.

"Not after— sex", Vergil doesn't know what else to call it.

"Oh, fuck, my bad"

Vergil huffs. He folds the pillow comfortably under his cheek and pulls the blanket over his extended legs. Has almost forgotten how effortless motion is. Dante stays right there, looking at him, and to hide from him, Vergil closes his eyes obliviously.

“I suppose you wouldn’t like to cuddle?” Dante asks.

“No”, Vergil answers.

“Not even a little bit?”

“No”

“You mind if I cuddle you anyway?”

“You’re the most obnoxious—“ Vergil can’t finish his sentence before Dante already shoves himself closer, wrapping his arms around Vergil and pinning him down. “—creature!”

“Just really wanna hold you right now, baby”, Dante tattles, burying his face into Vergil’s hair. “Can’t believe this is real.” Amusing. Vergil can’t believe it, either. “I finally have you”

Vergil dislikes the implication. He hasn’t given himself to Dante. In his restored pride, Vergil thought he would never be a thing again, passed around and humiliated at the whim of others. Oddly enough, that very sensation blurs when Dante holds him so tightly, and for a moment, Vergil gets to pretend the shame of it no longer haunts him. He can trick himself into thinking Dante only wants his nearness, and Vergil has chosen to indulge him.

Is that how he means to survive— pretending Dante loves him? As if it’s not humiliating enough.

Vergil lets Dante nuzzle into his cheek as he whispers more of his false affection. He’s a beast, Vergil thinks, as terrible as he is, taking what he wants because he can. For a moment, Vergil experiences the uplift of pride.

Vergil swings the loose end of the chain around Dante’s neck and yanks. He pulls himself down, choking the air out of Dante’s lungs. A rattling gasp echoes in his ears.

“Vergil—“

Choking out his little brother doesn’t give Vergil as much joy as it should. Dante fights him because both of them must always fight; it’s in their blood, and blunt strikes begin hitting his core. Vergil snarls wildly behind his teeth, wrapping the chain tighter in his hand. It hurts him, too. Maybe that’s the guilt Dante always talks about.

They tussle on the bed for their time before Dante breaks free. He crawls away from Vergil, and though Vergil tries to attack him again, the chains won’t let him. Frustration turns to poison in his mouth. There’s blood, too, he realizes, from when Dante struck him, dyeing his teeth red.

“You really didn’t wanna cuddle, huh?” Dante coughs.

“I told you so”, Vergil hisses.

“Worth it”

“I bet it was”

“Oh, you gotta be pissed.” Dante chuckles, chest rapidly rising. “Can’t free yourself? Poor thing. Come here, let me help you with that”

Dante yanks the chain and pulls the loose length through the link, tightening it and forcing Vergil onto the mattress. Can’t sit up, can’t properly raise his body as Dante climbs on top of him and runs his hands along Vergil’s shoulders. His fingers may as well be claws, they breach so deep.

“Might fuck you like this tonight”, Dante wonders out loud. “Can’t do anything about it, can you?”

Vergil doesn’t raise his eyes from the concrete floor. Refuses to give Dante the satisfaction of his feckless struggling. 

“What? No clever comebacks?” Dante keeps taunting.

“You must do as you see fit”, Vergil mutters.

“Yeah, suppose I do”

“You made me cry, did you know?” Dante stills in the light of Vergil’s whisper. “When you raped me last night”

Dante withdraws, slipping from on top of Vergil. Vergil can’t know for sure if it’s his bleak wording or the thought of him weeping that makes Dante reconsider his threat. A heavy weight falls off Vergil’s chest, regardless.

“I’ll— gonna let you be”, Dante decides and slides off the mattress.

“I’m proud of you”, Vergil fires.

“You're a what now?”

“You finally started taking what you want, like a demon true to his blood”

Vergil would reach to lick the astonishment from Dante’s face if he could. As fragile as the victory may be, it brings Vergil to a smile.

In his small room, Vergil can never be sure if it’s day or night. He won’t ask, but regardless, one morning, a digital clock has appeared on top of the dresser. It’s almost two. Vergil has begun sleeping during day time without even realizing. All over his body, he aches from how tight the chains remain; he can’t stretch himself, can’t turn around unless he wants to dislocate something. He knows it’s supposed to be a punishment for attacking Dante, but nothing in him prepared for Dante to be so ruthless about it.

Vergil never thought Dante could do anything properly, yet somehow Dante has taken to proving him wrong in these matters.

The stairs creak, but Vergil can’t be bothered to raise his head. He stares idly at his shackled hands.

“If you promise to eat, I’ll loosen them for a bit”, Dante bargains.

“I have no appetite”, Vergil dismisses.

“Something else you’d like?”

Dante is getting desperate, Vergil deems. He’s much too tired to find thrill in it, as if a veil has settled over his mind. It’s not an unfamiliar sensation, it’s why captivity breaks minds. He’s never alert, having to battle to keep his eyes open even after sleeping hours on end. He’s certain he delivers some answer to Dante, but judging by the urgency with which Dante sits next to him, Vergil isn’t as convinced anymore.

“Vergil?” Dante asks, almost child-like.

“What?” Vergil manages, voice far from the hiss he imagines.

“Does it hurt? Your eyes look a little—”

“What are you talking about?”

Dante starts pulling the chains free from the links, soon bringing one hand under Vergil’s back and another under his knees.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vergil asks.

“Don’t freak out. Just gonna bring you upstairs for a bit.” Dante carries him, and Vergil has no will to fight him.

The walls change from concrete to worn wallpaper. Dante lays Vergil in a proper bed and pulls a thick duvet over him. It's soft, falls down like silk. Vergil turns on his side, stretching himself, and hides his face in the cool pillow. The heaviness in the air wanes, and he senses a light breeze from the open window. A beam of light hits the room.

"Better?" Dante asks, and the bed dips as he sits next to Vergil.

"Thank you", Vergil whispers.

"You don't gotta say that"

One swaying into evil never wishes their most basic of decencies noted. That much amuses Vergil.

"I'm sorry. I was being stubborn and cruel", Dante is still able to recognize.

"You must think I'm stubborn and cruel, too, for not giving you what you want"

Dante's voice lowers, "Yeah, actually. But I know I've got no right to complain."

"Do I?"

"You do. You were just— recovering, after all the shit you went through, and I was just thinking about myself. I completely ruined whatever chance you had of a normal life, didn't I?"

Vergil stills, eyeing down his little brother, who used to be the very saint of morality. He respected that, somewhat, despite all their disagreements, because in the end, a person always needs principles. Dante's were to humanity. What they have distorted into now, Vergil can't say, but even when all is said and done, Dante does not lack self-awareness. He knows exactly what he's done. That's the part that leaves Vergil wary.

"Neither of us had a chance for a normal life", Vergil says, gentler than he intends.

"Guess that's right"

"You wanted to share yours with me"

"I do"

"Why?"

"Who else? You're my brother, you were there when I was born"

"Last time I offered, you chose humans over me"

"This time I'm choosing you"

An entirely foreign feeling of warmth flutters in Vergil, stunning him and shoving aside all the clever snides he considered saying to Dante in response. What are these chains on him, if not the pinnacle of a dark obsession? Vergil knows some of that.

"Still hurt?" Dante carefully lays his hand over Vergil's.

"No, I feel fine", Vergil clears his throat.

"Maybe you'd like to sleep here tonight? With me?"

"No." Vergil rises to sit, though the sudden motion pales his face and blackens his sight. "I'm ready to go back down"

"Wouldn’t you be more comfortable here?”

“My comfort hasn’t been much concern to you lately”

“So this is your retaliation?”

“Think of it however you want, little brother”

Vergil tries to rise, with every implication that he wishes to return downstairs, but Dante stops him by placing his hands on Vergil’s shoulders and pushing him back down.

“I’d like to see you eat something”, he repeats.

“I’m not hungry”, Vergil argues.

“Just a little something. A bite?”

“I might bite you”

“Please?”

Vergil frowns, glaring at Dante’s best effort of puppy eyes. “Ugh, fine”

“Sit tight”

Dante seems unreasonably pleased by the permission. Vergil can barely catch a glimpse of his back before he’s gone, presumably into the kitchenette to prepare whatever nightmare of a dish he has in mind.

The absence gives Vergil a chance to breathe. He presses his cheek into the pillow, chasing Dante’s scent on it. This bed, he has spent many a night in, and all of his own volition. Things were good between them then, or was it all just an illusion both of them played into? Vergil wonders if this outcome they dangerously approach was always Dante’s goal. Perhaps the devotion Dante swore him during their union was only the means to lure him closer.

Can’t be that. Dante is much too pure; he brings Vergil a plate and a mug of some hot beverage. Vergil raises his head for a better look. On the plate lies a toast and an apple sliced into pieces. Knowing Dante keeps watch on him, Vergil tries for a bite.

It’s crispy, but the insides melt in his mouth, leaving him with a warmth the blanket couldn’t bring. Dante has made something so good for him.

Vergil feels his stomach turn. He spits out the piece back on the plate.

“That bad?” Dante asks.

“Can’t—“, Vergil nearly chokes on the lingering taste in his mouth, “I’ll puke if you make me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, did you think I was gonna force-feed you? If you don’t like it, don’t eat it”

Relief much too evident on his face, Vergil lets himself fall back in bed, shame of his outburst knocking on the back of his head.

“Vergil?”

Vergil doesn’t lift his head. “Yes?”

“Is that what you thought?”

“Yes”

“Vergil.” Dante sits next to him again and rubs a hand on Vergil’s shoulder.

“Don’t start”

“Okay, okay. Let me take this away. Still wanna try your tea?”

“Very well”

Vergil reaches for the cup as Dante takes the plate away. The tea’s herbal, one of the blends Vergil recalls selecting, when he had enough autonomy to vote on what produce should occupy the kitchen. By the time Dante comes back for him, Vergil has finished his tea.

“Would you take me back downstairs now?” Vergil asks politely.

“If that’s what you want”, Dante says, oddly hesitantly for someone who insisted on keeping Vergil in the basement to begin with.

Vergil lets Dante walk him down the steps. It doesn’t delight him much to be returned to the mattress on the cold concrete floor when upstairs a warm bed waits for him. He sinks between his pillows and lies his head down. When Dante reaches to bind his legs, Vergil pulls away.

“Must you?” he asks.

“Yes”, Dante answers softly and locks the shackles. “I’m sorry, baby.” He presses a kiss on Vergil’s bare knee.

It’s the first of Dante’s apologies Vergil believes.

"Here's what you asked for", Dante says as he places the stack of books next to the mattress.

Vergil shuffles closer to his best ability and checks the backs. "Thank you"

"Any time. Sure you don't need anything else?"

"No, I think I shall read"

"Mind if I watch you?"

Vergil raises his head, staring peculiarly at Dante's beaming face. "Watch me read?"

"Yeah. Well, maybe you'd let me cuddle you at the same time, but I'm happy just watching"

Dante places his hand on Vergil's thigh, squeezing lightly, no doubt to signal his severity on the matter. What kind of a lovesick fool wants to watch their partner read, Vergil wonders.

"Very well", he yields.

Dante takes action immediately: he props up two of the pillows, sits against them, and grabs Vergil by the waist, dragging him seated between his legs. Vergil may rest on Dante's chest without compromising the chains or his own comfort. Most positions grow painfully irritating when one's freedom is so reduced.

With his book open, Vergil doesn't particularly mind the affection Dante bestows on him. Dante presses his lips into Vergil's shoulder and wraps his hand around Vergil's middle to secure him in place. He hums quietly, so smug and pleased with himself that Vergil considers elbowing him.

"I should decorate this space for you", Dante says while brushing back a strand of Vergil's hair.

"Decorate?" Vergil repeats.

"Since you don't wanna sleep in my bed, I thought I should make it more homey in here"

Vergil swallows. Somehow, he's still considered this only a temporary predicament and that Dante would soon come to his senses, releasing him. The hope of that happening starts dripping between Vergil's fingers. He lowers the book.

"Don't you want me to?" Dante asks when Vergil doesn't answer.

"Will you make me stay here if I keep refusing to share your bed?" Vergil clarifies, hollow.

"That sounds so bad when you put it like that"

"And the truth?"

"I gotta be able to keep an eye on you"

"A yes, then?"

Dante nods hesitantly. "Considering that you were ready to off yourself with a piece of glass, I can't realistically Vergil-proof the entire house"

"I understand"

Though it doesn't thrill him to, Vergil understands the point Dante makes. He's a prisoner of value, one wouldn't want him slipping away or harming himself in the process.

“Do you still… feel that way?” Dante asks hesitantly.

“Which way?” Vergil raises a brow.

“Like you’d rather off yourself than be with me?”

“That’s not— what it was about”

“Sure looked that way to me”

Vergil can’t recall the irrational fear that took him over, then. Perhaps his mind hasn’t recovered as much as he wanted to believe, how else would he perform such a bizarre theatric?

“I was under false pretenses”, Vergil says.

“You thought it’d be like Hell”, Dante sounds to understand.

“More or less”

“It’s not, is it?”

Vergil turns enough to look at Dante, and slowly shakes his head. It doesn’t thrill him to admit that some of the kindness Dante offers him isn’t entirely unwelcome.

"Hey", Dante whispers and gently lays his hand on Vergil’s jaw, holding his gaze still, "I know you're not happy with me, but I'm gonna make this up to you, if you let me."

"You will find some challenge in that", Vergil warns.

"Worth the effort." Dante places a kiss on his cheek. "Weren't you supposed to be reading?"

Vergil ignores the teasing and raises his book back up. 

Blood hums in Vergil’s ears. Something firm touches his arm, and he jumps awake, his heart pounding, burning with sweat all over his body. He fights his eyes open, finding a warm beam of light on the floor. Dante sits next to him, he realizes, holding him by the hand. Vergil yanks himself free and quickly wipes his wet cheek into the back of his hand. The humanity his body responds with to nightmares is utterly embarrassing.

“You screamed”, Dante says quietly.

“Don’t be daft”, Vergil argues, though his throat feels as if he might have.

“Had a nightmare?”

“I don’t recall”

“This must be…” Dante seems to hesitate, lowering his eyes and staying completely still. “Bringing back some bad memories?”

“Have you come to gloat?”

“I wouldn’t do that”

“Then why are you here?”

“You were crying for me. I couldn’t just ignore you”

“I wasn’t crying for you”, Vergil hisses and snaps his head towards Dante, glaring at him. The look of sympathy Dante offers him only serves to repulse him.

“Alright”, Dante yields. “Want me to leave you alone?”

“Yes, go”

Dante seems like he actually might, but before he’s on his feet, he slumps back down, and Vergil’s heart flips in relief.

“Think you gotta tolerate me a bit longer, actually”, Dante decides. “I don’t have anything else to do. Bored, really”

Vergil doesn’t say a word, not one of resistance or affirmation. Solitude after a bad dream is one of the worst feelings he can think of, and he’s fortunate to not remember a thing he saw that night. Perhaps his mind has decided to shield him, this time. Dante lies down a respectful distance from him.

“Could make you a drink. Helps me fall back asleep after a bad dream”, Dante suggests.

“No, thank you”

"Was it— because of me? The nightmare?"

Vergil doesn't think there's a simple answer to that question. He has dreamt of his little brother often in the past, in nightmares and fantasies, and there's no doubt he has screamed Dante's name in them both. Despite all their many fights and disagreements, Vergil has never dreamed of Dante hurting him. Dante has only ever served as the savior and brought some comfort to Vergil's blight. This role Dante has adapted defies it all.

"No", Vergil denies. "Just a faint echo of the past"

"Wish you could see the dreams you give me", Dante says. Seems to have cheered him up.

"I'm guessing they're indecent"

Dante shuffles closer and presses his nose into the side of Vergil's head, humming playfully.

"Getting wet dreams like when I was a teenager", he chuckles. "You gotta remember what that was like"

"Not all of us engage in such obscenity. I didn't struggle controlling my urges, and I certainly don't now"

"Didn't you have a one-night stand? Without protection? Pulling out doesn't count, by the way"

"Are you trying to call Nero an accident?"

"Come on, you did not plan him"

"And how would you know?"

Vergil follows, baffled, how Dante folds into a laugh. What's so entertaining about it, Vergil can't say. If he started pointing out every slip-up of Dante's, the list would hit the floor in a matter of minutes.

"Have you told him about our... predicament?" Vergil asks then, fully aware that it must slice Dante's joy to ribbons. Maybe that's precisely why.

"No", Dante admits.

"Will you, or do you plan to let him believe I have abandoned him?"

"I'll tell him when it's relevant"

"That you have imprisoned me?"

"That you're safe and won't be doing any more damage to yourself or anybody else" 

“How discreet of you”

The fact that the matter lies entirely in Dante’s hands vexes him. Dante speaks a great deal of the goodness of humanity, and yet he denies Vergil what little of it remains.

“He hasn’t asked about you, if you were wondering”, Dante says, unnecessarily.

“I suspected as much”, Vergil mutters.

“You can have a relationship with him in the future”

“How? Will you arrange visiting hours?”

“Something like that”

Vergil turns away and readjusts his pillow. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, rubbing in a manner so comforting that Vergil doesn’t find the will to brush it off.

“There’s nothing I could do for you?” Dante asks.

“That’s your choice entirely. I would like my sword returned to me”

“I can think of twenty reasons off the top of my head why I can’t give you Yamato”

“And what if we are attacked?”

“You leave that to me”

“Then no, you have chosen to do nothing for me”

Dante sighs apologetically and his hand remains in place. Vergil shuts his eyes, reaching for sleep with eagerness he rarely recognizes, but tonight he considers the nightmare less offensive than Dante’s poor attempts at accommodating him.

“I would like my morning robe”, Vergil says then.

“The silky one?” Dante asks, knowingly.

“Yes”

“Sure. It looks nice on you”

“Did I ask for fashion advice?”

“No, that’s free of charge. Just a minute”

Dante gets up, and for a moment, Vergil is left alone again. He watches Dante’s shadow vanish up the staircase and listens for the footsteps somewhere above.

An odd sense of tranquility overtakes him. In the night, nothing utters a threat, and Vergil may lull himself, sensing Dante’s presence, feeling the touch of his hand still linger on his shoulder even in his short absence. It’s something akin to peace, Vergil reasons, and he knows he should cherish it.

Having seen enough cruelty, Vergil knows he should be thrilled Dante’s willing to let him upstairs with him. Not only for a bath or a cup of herbal tea, but Dante will seat him on the couch with a blanket and a cushion to keep him company. Vergil doesn’t quite achieve the feeling of a bird let out of its cage when Dante constantly hovers over him, tending to him with puzzling devotion.

“Comfy?” Dante asks once he has tucked in the end of the blanket.

“Comfortable enough”, Vergil supposes, twisting the chain of his wrists underneath.

“Just let me know if you need something”

Vergil nods hesitantly. He can’t comprehend Dante’s sudden want to care for him. It must stem from carnal urges, why else would the feckless little brother become so… pleasing? Vergil has never had anyone care for him, and now he’s tucked in with a silk robe on his shoulders, a pillow behind his back and Dante ready to act on his whim. Has he become vain, in turn? Was he always this vain?

The mind refuses to quiet. Vergil lies in a bundle while Dante sits on the floor, resting his back against the couch, dabbling with a guitar in his hands. For the sake of sparing Vergil's eardrums, it's acoustic.

Dante hums and plays a song, and Vergil can't unhear, though he'd like, "If we'd go again all the way from the start, I would try to change things that killed our love."

It's early enough for sunlight to still hit the room, but late enough for shadows to cast on the wall Vergil stares opposite him. He supposes Dante must think the serenading very romantic; he plays happily through the verses, a tune much too soothing in comparison to the ramming and rattling Vergil has previously found from Dante's disc collection.

"Whatcha think?" Dante asks when he's finished.

Vergil turns away from him. "You're off key"

"I'm off— get over here!"

Dante puts aside the guitar and yanks Vergil down to the floor by his waist. Vergil yelps, pulling the blanket down with him and trying to shelter himself with his hands when Dante crowds him.

"If you're gonna be an ass about it, I guess I just gotta cuddle and kiss you until you get it." Dante does exactly that, forcefully peppering Vergil's face and neck with his mouth despite Vergil's protests. He laughs like a devil while he's at it, hands on Vergil's hips to keep him from escaping.

"Dante, stop— stop it, you pest!" Vergil's voice cracks into a helpless chuckle in the end when Dante nibbles at his neck.

"Thought I'd have to tickle you, too"

"Don't you dare!" Dante's fingers creep dangerously up Vergil's sides. "I will kick you!"

"Can't have that", Dante yields and instead presses one more kiss right on Vergil's lips. Quick enough not to demand an answer, though Vergil’s eyes widen and his body turns to iron. "Thought I'd entertain you a bit"

"Yes, well—" Vergil tries to gather his composure, fixing his hair. "It's not out of place"

"Want me to play you another?"

Vergil doesn't have the heart to reject the keen look Dante's giving him. "Very well"

Dante helps him up to sit on the floor, and Vergil accepts his place glued to his side as Dante picks up his guitar again and starts playing another song. Vergil drops his head on Dante's shoulder and listens to him play.

Yet most of the notes deafen when Vergil focuses on the delighted grin Dante wears for him. 

Beyond his book, Vergil checks the digital clock on top of the dresser. It's slightly past midnight, well after the time Dante usually comes to visit him. Vergil sits up with his pillow pushed against the wall behind him and the book propped against his raised knees. It tires his hands if he must hold it. His eyes happen on the little loop the chain of his shackles makes on the bedding. Sometimes he likes hiding the contraption around his wrists under the blanket so he doesn't need to see it. Then, he will consider that he's simply waiting in bed for his lover to come home.

Tonight, when the said pest is horribly out of schedule, Vergil doesn't feel like playing games. He keeps his eyes nailed on the book as the door finally opens and Dante walks down.

"You're still up", Dante sounds glad to realize. Vergil can't say what's so delightful about it.

"Evidently", Vergil answers dryly and flips a page with his finger.

"Were you about to sleep? I can go if you wanna get ready for bed"

"The damage is done. You've already disturbed me"

Dante walks over to him and sits beside him. "Baby"

"Don't call me that"

"Are you angry with me?"

Vergil keeps his eyes on the book, reading a few words here and there. Dante's hand squeezes his thigh.

"Don't be", Dante pleads softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't come by earlier. I'm gonna make it up to you, I promise"

"And why should I care?"

Dante comes closer, the distance fit for a kiss. "You're really cute when you act heartless, you know." He lowers Vergil's book and gently takes him by the jaw.

"If you think I'm cute heartless, you'll love me when I slit your throat", Vergil warns.

"Love you already"

Dante doesn't let Vergil answer, instead he brings their lips together before Vergil understands to tilt his head to flee. Perhaps he does see it coming, and something in him chooses to surrender as Dante kisses him with every tenderness, licking into his mouth without hurry, overloading all of Vergil's senses with such a little thing. Vergil's body falls slack, this helplessness a result of something other than the shackles confining him.

Vergil turns, frightened of falling. Dante follows him, wrapping a hand behind his head.

"I know, baby, I know", Dante purrs. "You don't need to fight it. Let me make you feel good"

Vergil lets Dante kiss him again, drawing him closer into his embrace. With a clink of the chains, Vergil raises his hands flat on Dante's chest. Dread twists in his belly for what he's letting Dante do to him.

"I don't— I don't want this", Vergil tries, pulling away from Dante's mouth with a sharp exhale.

"It's okay", Dante grins at him, still smoothing his hand over Vergil's neck. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to"

Vergil believes him— the fool that he is, he believes Dante and his empty promises. He stares at Dante's lips, still close enough to continue what Vergil has cruelly ended.

"Sure you want me to stop?" Dante urges him.

Vergil shakes his head. Receives another kiss as a reward for his honesty. If he could, he would wrap around Dante and sink his claws into his skin to keep him from ever untangling. Vergil lets his lips be coaxed open for Dante's tongue to tease him.

Dante's hands search Vergil as if he could ever hide something, left nude under the blankets with nothing but the chains for clothing. The touch dips between his legs, and Vergil realizes then, much to his own dismay, that he's hard.

Pulls away immediately. Dante follows him, shushing him, mouthing his ear with resilience Vergil almost admires.

"Don't be embarrassed", Dante whispers.

"Am not", Vergil denies.

"I'll take care of you. You just gotta let me"

"Why would you do that?"

"I want you to feel good with me. You deserve it"

"I'm not what you want me to be"

"Sure you are"

"I'll keep fighting you"

"Maybe just for tonight you wouldn't?"

Vergil turns enough to meet Dante's eyes, and the kindness they bestow on him. Oh, he hates that look.

"In the morning then", Vergil's voice quivers.

"And for now?"

"Do with me as you desire"

Dante breathes out, his hand moving back and forth on Vergil's waist. "That's the best thing I've ever heard"

Vergil grounds himself when Dante kisses him again. Dante has a natural talent for removing all thought from Vergil's head, sparing only himself and the touch he brings. Before his brother's hand, Vergil's legs fall open, and he lets Dante stroke his stiffened cock. Makes his whole body react with a shiver.

"You look so nice like this", Dante murmurs in his ear.

"Because I can't escape?" Vergil asks.

"Maybe the chains just look really sexy on you"

"Deviant"

Dante chuckles, "Yeah, I'm the one who's fucked up."

"You're definitely not right in the head"

"Here—" Dante takes Vergil's chained wrists, lifting them above Vergil's head on the bedding. Holds them down, his other hand still wrapped around Vergil's cock. "Perfect"

"Dante"

Vergil's hips jerk at the mercy of a pleasure-surge when Dante's hand strokes him faster. Pinned down in such a degrading manner, he has a view of Dante's victorious grin above him. Somehow, it does not make it worse because sooner than later, Dante's face softens with fascination. Maybe it's the result of the helpless moan that slips past Vergil's lips before he can snap his mouth shut.

"Damn, you're beautiful", Dante sighs.

"Are you going to make love to me?"

"Do you want me to?"

Vergil chews on his lower lip, eyeing how the tip of his cock peeks from Dante's grip.

"Yeah", Dante deems before Vergil collects himself enough to answer. "I think you want me to"

Vergil hasn't decided what he thinks of it. With Dante, it likely doesn't even matter— he lets go of him for just a moment to fetch the bottle of lube stashed in the dresser Vergil can't even reach on his own. Dante doesn't turn him around as Vergil expects, and won't mount him the same way he did a few nights ago. Vergil thinks hard on how long it's actually been since Dante last had his pleasure of him. Can't remember. Can't concentrate on the mystery when his legs are pulled up, folded by the knees, and Dante's lube-covered fingers start to probe his rim. 

There’s patience to it. A method. Vergil hates that he’s never been so tended to, so cared for, as when Dante grinds his fingers in and out of him, preparing him for the ruin that’s to come. Dante adds more lube, gliding easily past the tight ring of muscle.

“Ready for me?” Dante rasps, wearing a not-so-subtle grin.

“Yes”, Vergil sighs. He’s been ready longer than he’d like to admit.

The perversion isn’t only the clink of the chains or the dim light of the basement, but the way life keeps pulling them apart only to bring them back together in the cruelest of ways. Vergil tires of it. Wants to stay with Dante the time they have left to make up for what they have lost.

Vergil cries out in relief when Dante's cock finally sinks inside of him. He gets no chance to gasp for breath before he's filled to the brim, his legs left shaking. Pleasure curls mercilessly in his belly as if he's waited for this a lifetime.

"That feel good, baby?" Dante husks above him. He stills, just keeping Vergil speared on his cock without moving a bit. Has enough clemency to let Vergil adjust to the demanding stretch.

Vergil understands to nod, his eyes squeezed shut, and the walls of his hole throbbing around Dante's cock. Were he able to, he would cover his mouth to silence the wanton moan that leaves him. Can't believe that voice belongs to him.

"Gonna fuck you so good tonight", Dante hums. "You won't even remember why you're upset with me when I'm done with you"

When Dante rolls his hips, Vergil is willing to believe it. The angle hits him perfectly, tearing quivers of pleasure out of him. Vergil gets a cruel reminder of why he allowed Dante to be his lover in the first place, why he surrendered to this demeaning predicament: his little brother is wonderful at it. Dante fucks the shame right out of him, makes it feel so good there's no room left for anything other than the mind-numbing indulgence.

"Look at me, baby", Dante urges, hand on Vergil's cheek. "Wanna see your pretty eyes"

Vergil yields and opens his eyes, looking at Dante below his pale lashes. A bit of a blur. Must be a sight to behold because Dante whistles.

"Been inside you just a minute and you're already coming apart", Dante says. "It's okay, though, you don't gotta be ashamed of it. You feel fucking amazing for me, too." He keeps rocking his hips in a steady rhythm.

Vergil has to wonder if he's a better fuck now when he wants it, yields to Dante's will, or if he prefers his resistance. A lump climbs his throat, almost choking him down.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Dante asks, and his hips still. "Too rough? Am I hurting you?"

"No", Vergil manages to croak.

How Dante realizes his distress so quickly, becomes evident as his thumb rubs under Vergil's glistening eye.

"Talk to me"

"This, am I better for you now— do I feel better for you, than what I did the last time?"

Dante crawls over him, dropping his forehead gently against Vergil's, still inside of him, but not moving.

"You're perfect for me now. Want you like this, always. Please, Vergil, stay like this for me"

Both of Dante's hands find Vergil's neck, holding, not strangling, and his hips pick up a slow, methodical pace. Thrusts deep, until Vergil shudders and moans.

"Wanna make you feel good", Dante murmurs.

That's the way Vergil remembers their lovemaking, with Dante desperate to please him and himself falling apart in Dante's hands. He does feel good— terribly good for someone bound to another's will, the walls of his prison creeping closer every day.

None of it frightens Vergil now, not the pain of never seeing the sun again, nor the dread that the friction of his binds shall stay his hand forever. Vergil rests his head back on the pillow and thinks it all a luxury. Pleasure becomes a knot in his belly, only tightening as Dante's strokes quicken. Vergil is so fortunate to have a brother like Dante, providing for him, sheltering him, bestowing on him this feeling of safety even as his body is drawn close to its limits, shackled and helpless, stretched around Dante's cock.

Vergil's breath hitches, and his eyes flip into his head. Dante must have found a way to hex him. Why else would he mistake this curse as a blessing? Why else would he so easily weep at his mercy?

"I'm close", Vergil whimpers.

Dante's face beams. "Yeah? You're ready to cum for me, baby?" 

Vergil makes a stuttering nod. Dante wraps his hand around Vergil’s cock and begins stroking him at a pace incredibly in tandem with that of his hips. It seems to only quicken, overwhelming Vergil before he’s given even a chance to brace himself. He doubts he could, not with Dante knowing exactly how to pull him under the spell.

Glassy-eyed, Vergil cries out as the pressure in his body releases. Dante milks long ropes of come out of him, cooing at the mess he’s making. Pleasure throbs hotly through him, breaking him with wanton moans.

Dante keeps fucking him as ruthlessly, not allowing Vergil to even draw a gasp. Can’t flee the burn inside of him; all his quivering and whimpering result in nothing. Vergil’s cock keeps twitching against his belly, still leaking.

“Dante”, Vergil weeps, his voice cracked.

“Shush now, you can take it. You’re doing so good”, Dante husks, only pulling Vergil closer by the hips.

Vergil isn’t sure he can. He’s ensnared underneath Dante's weight, shackled by his hands and ankles, the afterglow still threatening to sprout for more as Dante keeps fucking into him.

“You’re perfect, baby, squeezing me so tight”, Dante praises.

Vergil knows. He’s terribly embarrassed by how his muscles clamp around Dante and how it’s him making his little brother gasp and grunt over him, rocking his hips eagerly for more of him. It’s perhaps no wonder, then, that while reduced to his most primal instincts, all Dante wants is to guard him so possessively.

Dante blankets Vergil with his body, clutching onto him till his nails pierce Vergil’s skin and the mouth on Vergil’s neck no longer offers kisses, but bites the crook of his throat. Vergil minds not the violence of his brother’s love— adores it when Dante’s hips stutter and he finishes inside of him with a long groan.

The hips still gradually. Dante pulls out, but doesn’t yet release Vergil from his embrace.

“Stay with me”, pleads the voice in Vergil’s ear. “Please, don’t leave me again”

“I won’t leave you, little brother. Not even if I could”, Vergil answers.

Dante draws him into a tired kiss. They caress one another, Vergil what little he can, though he yearns to feel the warmth of Dante’s skin against his. Deeper, closer.

“Got this feeling”, Dante mutters.

“Yes?” Vergil urges.

“Like… it’s all gonna be fine”

“I suppose that’s not unreasonable, but you did feed yourself a dose of serotonin”

Dante chuckles, “You’re right. Post-nut clarity gonna hit soon.”

Vergil hates that he snorts at the joke. “Right”

“Unless…”

“Unless?”

“You’re down for another round?”

Vergil rolls his eyes. Satiating the cravings of his little brother has never been an easy task. Dante doesn’t wait for an answer, not that he should. He puts his hands on Vergil and flips him around, drawing his hips up.

“Wanna see what I’ve done to you”, Dante narrates as he spreads Vergil’s buttocks for a better look at his puffy hole.

“You—“, Vergil can’t think of a fit insult that might match Dante’s perversion.

Dante lowers his head and licks over the rim, little minding the taste of his own come. Vergil hides his face into the pillow in embarrassment that must have dyed him red.

“Still so open for me”

Vergil feels Dante’s breath hot against his entrance before the tongue slowly presses inside. It’s only instinct that makes Vergil lift his hips towards the pleasant sensation, pushing himself onto Dante’s tongue. The obscenely wet sound of Dante eating him out echoes in the walls of the basement. Vergil twists the pillow in his hands, the chain his eyes try to follow slowly waning in his sight.

“Baby”, Dante hums, “you taste so good.”

Something akin to a feckless whimper leaves Vergil’s throat. It’s the most answer he can give when his entire body grows again taut with arousal. He feels Dante’s thumb dig into the side of his hole, spreading him wider, lapping his tongue deeper.

“Are you hard?” Vergil dares ask.

“Yeah, wanna feel?”

Though no affirmation ever gets delivered, Dante rises and presses the tip of his cock against Vergil’s rim, pushing in just enough. Vergil gasps at the sensation; he’s wet, open, still feels the stretch.

“Dante—“

“Fuck, you get like silk with cum in you”, Dante grunts.

“Make love to me again”

“Oh, I will, baby, gonna ruin you.” Dante sheathes himself all the way in.

Vergil thinks it an odd proclamation when Dante has already taken his dignity, eaten away at his sense of self, and smothered his will to fight. What more does he have?

“That feel good, baby?”

Vergil tilts his head back and grunts in affirmation. He lies on a stack of pillows, a soft morning robe over his shoulders, and his leg extended on Dante’s lap as he massages his sore calf. In the warm light, Vergil’s skin gleams where Dante has applied the oil that tingles ever so slightly. The chains lay forsaken on the mattress, though Vergil suspects he’ll be returned to his shackles once Dante is finished tending to him.

“Got pretty legs”, Dante admires, rubbing his thumb deep into the muscle.

“Don’t ogle”, Vergil warns.

“Me? Never.” Dante raises Vergil’s leg and presses a kiss on his ankle.

“The other one now”

Vergil presses his sole demandingly into Dante’s chest.

“Alright, alright”

Dante takes the leg obediently and starts rubbing, working his way up from the sole. He has an annoyingly pleased grin on his face.

“Sure you don’t want me to do your thighs, too?” Dante asks.

“No”, Vergil says firmly.

“Offer’s on the table if you change your mind. They must be sore”

“How can you tell?”

“A feeling”

“You’re far too desperate to have your hands on me”

Dante shrugs as he smooths over the ankle. “I just like taking care of you, especially when you actually seem to enjoy it, somewhat?”

The question is careful enough for Vergil to respect it. He hums as Dante hits a particularly tense spot.

“I do”, Vergil allows.

“That’s good”, Dante says thoughtfully. “Don’t want you worrying about anything like this. You just lie back and enjoy yourself”

Vergil admits it’s tempting. Dante has taken to offering him such pleasantries: lying him down, massaging him, feeding him, serving him drinks, and embracing him, though some of the activities Vergil firmly denies. It’s beyond Vergil’s comprehension why Dante wants any of it. At first, he assumed it was all a poor attempt at an apology, but Dante hardly complies with that theory. He glows like a beacon whenever Vergil asks a service of him, even something as mundane as fluffing out his pillow.

It’s entertaining, in a way.

“That previous spot still hurts”, Vergil complains.

“What, here?” Dante asks and lowers his finger on Vergil’s calf.

“Yes, there”

“Sorry, baby. I was sloppy”

Vergil observes as Dante corrects his mistake, going over the spot multiple times without any sign of irritation on his face. Seems to thoroughly enjoy himself.

“Better?” Dante asks, hopefully.

“Yes”, Vergil decides.

No matter how devoted Dante seems, as soon as Vergil averts his eyes, he hears the shackles click around his ankles. His glare yields before it fully begins as Dante still raises Vergil’s leg and presses a kiss above the metal binding.

"You would like me to lie here all day so you can tend to me?" Vergil raises an amused brow.

"Not gonna lie, sounds pretty fun", Dante admits.

"You don't crave for more excitement?"

"I'm too old. So are you"

"Half of my life has gone to waste and you mean to have the rest of it. I don't feel old"

Dante gently lowers Vergil's leg after pressing a kiss on this one, too.

"I'm sorry you feel like I'm stealing from you", he says.

"You're... not. Perhaps I owe you some years"

"That'd be nice." Dante's got a subtle smile, still smoothing over Vergil's knee.

Vergil stares at Dante's hand, so gentle on him. He doesn't dislike that he must spare time for Dante, he only dislikes the measures Dante took to claim him. It doesn't exactly speak to Dante's unparalleled affection for him to wish confinement and solitarity on him. Vergil might have gladly lived out the rest of his days behind these walls with Dante, never considering another purpose for himself in the human world. In that sense, he supposes, the outcome of their grim union is not so different.

"I think you'll regret this one day, little brother", Vergil mutters.

"I don't think I will", Dante disagrees, the fool that he is.

Vergil tilts his head at him. "I know you better than you think. You let guilt eat at you even when the things that happen are entirely beyond your control"

"That's called having a conscience"

"I think you like it, feeling sorry for yourself"

"Ouch.” Dante brushes it off with a humorous tone, but Vergil knows it's a deflection. A pathetic act Dante puts up so no one would see beyond.

"You know I'm right"

"Well", Dante begins. "You weren't exactly the supportive big brother to me you could've been. You made some pretty selfish choices, Vergil, and someone had to bear the consequences"

"Don't act the saint around me when you're no better”

"So what? I've spent my life trying to do good, and you judge me for wanting to protect you?"

Vergil feels his eyes soften. "I don't mean to judge you"

"Then why are you saying this shit to me? I know what I've done to you"

"Because I resent you for it", Vergil says truthfully, and shuffles closer to Dante, crawling over him to almost taste the lips that part in puzzlement. "Still, a part of me will adore you for it. For being wrong like me"

"What does that mean for us?"

"That you may have a chance to defeat me"

"I really wanna kiss you right now"

Vergil lowers his eyes. "And if that's your want, then I must bend to your will"

Dante takes the hint, grabbing Vergil's face and bringing their lips together. He pulls Vergil closer, claiming exactly what he craves with little decency, coaxing his tongue past Vergil's lips and yanking him by the hair. It's a wet, filthy kiss that Vergil can't even fathom how to answer, though he would very much like to, he realizes.

When they part, Vergil licks what remains of Dante's warmth.

"Come here, baby”

Dante wraps his arms around Vergil and locks him down against his chest. Vergil won't complain; he's warm here, the soreness in his legs is gone, and as he lies his head down, he hears the pounding of Dante's heart. 

“I’d like to sleep next to you tonight”, Dante says out loud.

“Why haven’t you?” Vergil asks.

“Last time I tried, you strangled me”

“But you lived”

“I’d need to tighten your chains, and I know how you feel about that”

“So, you won’t stay the night? You will have your pleasure of me, but you won’t sleep beside me?”

Dante hesitates enough for Vergil to grow bold. He raises his head and presses a kiss on Dante’s cheek.

“Please”, he whispers, and kisses again, “I’ll be good. I can be good, too.” He brings his knee between Dante’s legs and draws a slow circle on his groin. “I can’t do any of this, otherwise”

“You make an excellent point”, Dante hums.

They kiss again, though Vergil can’t quite say if he initiates it. Dante doesn’t overwhelm him this time, but lets him answer at his own pace, adjusting to the warm feeling that rises within him and the sweetness of his brother’s mouth.

“Have you decided to trust that I won’t suffocate you with a pillow?” Vergil teases.

“Baby, you’ve just made a joke”

“It seems I have”

“I trust you”

Vergil drops his head back on Dante’s chest and rubs his cheek into his shirt. For this one time, he lets himself drift into the comfort Dante’s presence brings.

Can’t let it become a habit.

The pen spits blotchy patches of ink on the paper, leaving some of the letters only half-visible. Vergil sits with his knees pulled close, the newspaper propped against his thighs and a pillow between him and the cold, hard wall. He's almost finished with the newspaper, missing only a few rows. Dante isn't much help, seated next to him, delicately caressing Vergil's bare ankle.

"You going to bed soon?" Dante asks, nudging his head towards the digital clock that's showing close to midnight.

"I'm not tired", Vergil answers and scribbles down another word.

"You wanna come watch a late-night spooky movie with me?"

"I don't much care for them"

"I'll hold your hand if you get scared"

"I survived almost two decades in Hell, and you think a movie will frighten me?"

Dante flashes him a grin. "No, thought you'd fake it, so I'd hold your hand"

"A mistake in judgment on your part"

"Just teasing you, baby"

"Will you stop using these ridiculous pet names?"

"I think you secretly enjoy it"

Vergil rolls his eyes, effectively ignoring Dante's poor attempt at getting his attention. He hovers his pen over the two columns populating one of the rows, searching for the clues. The hand on his ankle shifts, the thumb now drawing shapes on the inside of his leg.

"Something bothering you tonight?" Dante asks carefully. “You seem a bit irritable. More than usual, I mean”

Vergil raises his hand wordlessly and turns his wrist enough for the chains to clink.

"You know I can't. I'm sorry, Vergil. I think you'd be a lot more comfortable if you slept in my room, but I get that—"

Vergil lifts his head from the crossword puzzle. "Will you stop?"

"I don't mean to pressure you"

"No, will you stop apologizing? You're not sorry about any of this. If you were, you would do something to earn my forgiveness, but instead you sit here groping me like you've paid for it"

Dante removes his hand from Vergil's leg. "You deserve to feel better than that"

Vergil looks down at where Dante lays his hand on the mattress, somewhat longing for the warmth it brought him. By all means, Vergil should be sickened by the compliance Dante plays into as if it shall last, but all he can do is let his shoulders drop back into the pillow. He tosses away the newspaper and the pen.

"Let me tuck you in?" Dante offers.

Vergil shakes his head weakly.

"Nothing I can do to make you feel better?"

"This is the predicament you brought on us"

"Yeah, I know, and I'll live with it. I just hate thinking that you feel neglected. I'd pamper the hell out of you if you let me." Vergil scoffs. Only fuels Dante's fire. "Wanna treat you like a princess. Make you feel safe."

Safety isn't a feeling, Vergil considers. It's an oxymoron. A cheat. It's a lullaby that leaves one open for an attack as soon as they have laid down their weapons, bewitched. Not even Dante could give him that, no matter how tempting Vergil finds the prospect of discovering shelter in Dante's arms.

"What makes you think I want any of it?" Vergil asks.

"I know you wanna be loved"

Vergil grits his teeth together. He glares at Dante, the look of softness he gives Vergil only serving as kindling to his anger that begins to spill.

"You think I'm eager to be loved?" Vergil mocks. "Look at yourself, look at what you are. Isn't that why you're so desperate to have me, because you know your darlings will one day see you for the demon that you really are and run screaming from you? You're not human enough for them, and you never will be. You know I'm the only one who will accept you and this calamity"

"You don't get to talk to me like that, Vergil", Dante’s voice lowers.

"Like what? Demon? That's the word you don't like?”

Dante grabs Vergil by the throat and tries to bring him closer. Vergil reaches for the pen he’s left lying on top of the newspaper and stabs Dante below the neck. There’s a sharp yelp and the sound of plastic breaking as the pen falls apart in Vergil’s hand.

“What the fuck, Vergil?”

A narrow trail of blood trickles down Dante’s chest and disappears under his shirt. He pulls out the tip of the pen and flicks it away with his fingers. Vergil stills, lowering himself onto the pillows as if he hasn’t done a thing worth of retaliation. It’s evident Dante wants to; the flare of anger in his eyes is plain and delicious.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me”, Vergil says coyly. He doesn’t try to defend himself when Dante prowls over him, eyes locked with his. “I know you’d like to. I'm sorry, little brother, I suppose there's no fixing your nature. You're a demon, you're a terrible creature of blood and fire, and all you're ever going to want is to hunt, kill, fuck—"

Vergil doesn’t get to finish when Dante’s lips crash over his own. The hand on his throat strangles his breath out of him, making him gasp helplessly into Dante’s mouth. Vergil thinks his brother’s kiss must be laced with poison; his body falls slack, and Dante topples him onto the mattress without much effort.

“Gets you off when we play rough, huh?” Dante murmurs. Vergil hears the click of a buckle. “You’re gonna fucking love this, baby”

Something wraps around Vergil’s face. It tastes like leather when Dante tightens the object despite Vergil's struggling, and it digs into his mouth, hard against his tongue. There's another click. Vergil snarls viciously, the makeshift gag muffling only some of his resistance. Dante doesn't pause to gloat on his newly found way to humiliate Vergil; he pushes for more, that's what demons do, they always want more.

Nails sink into Vergil's hips when Dante tries to turn him around. Vergil growls and yanks his chains uselessly, kicking painfully enough for Dante to secure the shackles around his ankles. Vergil knows what'll happen to him from the way Dante keeps twisting him at the hips, propping him flat and helpless on his belly. His body knows, too; his stomach dips, his heart starts to pound madly, and all of him burns with the hope to flee, though he knows very well there's nowhere for him to go. It's merciless anticipation, and the worst of it still slowly dawns on Vergil as behind him Dante drops his pants and slicks his cock with a layer of lube.

Vergil bites the leather in his mouth and shuts his eyes before the feeling rushes him. Dante settles between his open legs and presses his cockhead demandingly against the rim of his ass, then starts to lift his hips like a dog and force his way inside of Vergil. Tugs and tears him, yanking muffled cries out of him. Vergil thinks Dante must be intent on mangling his insides with the cruelty he chooses.

Dante grunts and huffs, but he doesn't speak. Doesn't apologize. That much, Vergil appreciates. Dante has no reason to apologize for his nature, nor for his exploits, no matter how heinous, no matter who should fall prey to him. Dante sheathes his cock to the root with another hard thrust. Vergil's body throbs, and another equally hard stroke brings him to sobbing. He squeezes the end of the mattress in his hands, enduring all that Dante takes from him.

Another thrust, and Vergil ragdolls. He drops his head onto the mattress, letting Dante have his way.

The hands around Vergil's hips shift and pull him into a better position, lining his ass right on Dante's cock. The next thrust hits his prostate, and Vergil whimpers at the sudden brush of pleasure. Perhaps Dante intends it, perhaps he doesn't, Vergil can't tell, because Dante is still quiet, lost on the high of fucking him. Vergil's resentment darkens as the feeling in his belly coils tighter, and each thrust of Dante's hips brings him closer to the edge, past the pain and the discomfort. It's a perversion that he should enjoy Dante selfishly using him, yet his vision blurs and his toes curl. Wanton moans spill into the gag.

"Baby?" Dante whispers as if he's realized the peculiarity.

Dante loosens the gag with his hand and lets the object fall in front of Vergil. It's Dante's belt, now covered in spit and teeth marks.

"Close", Vergil whines, as he's used to politely sharing this information with his lover when he nears his peak.

"Fuck", Dante exhales thickly. Turns his voice softer, his hips more ardent.

It arouses him, Vergil knows. Dante has always been desperate for validation and too eager to please. This must fill all his deepest, darkest fantasies as he gets to act on the wants of his demon side while satisfying the terrible human need for love. Vergil supposes it's no different for him; he has always wanted to share the darkness they both carry.

Vergil finishes on the sheets, another rope of cum spurting out of his cock after every thrust of Dante's hips. He groans deeply, clawing at the blanket as he writhes in pleasure, the walls of his hole spasming around Dante's cock still working him to ruin.

"Dante, no—", Vergil doesn't know what exactly he's trying to deny Dante when he has already had one mind-numbing orgasm from being forced on Dante's cock.

It's obvious that Dante pays no mind to Vergil's squirming. Dante only picks up his pace, grinding hard, balls slapping into the back of Vergil's thighs until he finishes, too, with a long groan that crawls on Vergil's skin, and empties a load of come inside of him.

Dante pulls away with a relieved huff, and the loss of him stabs Vergil like a knife. Vergil is left lying on his belly, legs spread wide open, his hole struggling to close after the abuse, aching and dripping with Dante's mess.

It doesn't hurt, though Vergil wishes it would. His head is spinning, the room around him finding shape.

Vergil lets out a stuttering breath. Happens to glance at the clock on the dresser. They had a quick fuck, no more than a few minutes. Just a few minutes to have himself ruined and climax from being raped by his little brother. His legs are still shaking, his hole still throbs, wanting more.

"Dante", he calls, because he doesn't know what else to do when he's feeling so helpless and terrified.

Dante hurries to bring his arms around Vergil, kissing his cheek and temple.

"That was good", he says, "that was real fucking good"

"Yes", Vergil sighs in agreement.

"Baby, you're shaking"

"I can't—"

"I know, don't worry, I'm right here, gonna take care of you now"

"I want you." Vergil realizes he's being too quiet for Dante to hear.

"What's that, baby?"

"Please, Dante, I want more"

"Right now?"

"Yes, now, tomorrow, whenever"

Dante grins like the devil that he is and grabs his softened cock to start stroking himself back to hardness.

"You love it, don't you? Knowing you can't do anything to stop me from doing whatever I want to you?" he asks.

"Yes", Vergil whispers. "I love it"

"That's okay, sweetheart, because I'm not gonna hurt you"

It's true. Dante would never hurt him, doesn't have it in him to hurt. Vergil spreads his legs again and lowers his head. Only truly feels a sense of consolation when Dante climbs on top of him and wraps a hand around his throat. 

Vergil’s dreams of ease flee from the feeling of suffocation. He struggles to find some distance from the arms around him, holding him tightly in their embrace.

"Dante", he grunts a warning.

"Don't move", Dante whispers behind him and tightens his grip on Vergil's waist.

"You're so clingy", Vergil laments. "It's light out, Dante, I would like to rise"

The hand only grows firmer, Dante has completely nailed himself into Vergil's back, spooning him under the blankets. Vergil feels Dante's breath in his nape, oddly stuttery.

"What is the matter with you?" Vergil frowns.

Dante doesn't say anything, and that already serves as the only answer Vergil needs. Knowing how anxious silence alone makes Dante, it's evident something troubles him this morning, and Vergil can't tolerate things that distress his little brother. Vergil turns his head, finding Dante trying to hide from his eyes.

"I think you were right", Dante mutters.

"Sounds likely. Perhaps you would elaborate on what, exactly?" Vergil asks dryly.

"You said I would regret it." Vergil hums and nods his head. It's not the confession he expects, but welcomes regardless, as Dante continues in a hollow voice, "I've done horrible things to you. I don't know how you can ever forgive me."

"Why would you need my forgiveness?"

"You've already spent so long hating me—"

"I don't hate you", Vergil rolls his eyes. "I pity you, and I think your purpose on this earth is to drive me mad, but I could never hate you, little brother"

Dante's voice becomes small, "Even after what happened yesterday?"

"You acted on your blood's call as any demon would. You claimed what stirred your desires. You shouldn’t be ashamed of what is only our nature"

"You don't resent me?"

"You cheated. You had me shackled so I couldn't offer you a fight. That's what I resent. The rest of it, no— I refuse to ache when you touch me"

"But you still... don't want a life with me"

Vergil hasn't considered that question in years. It's a luxury to do as one desires, and he's never had the fortune. For less than two months, he was free of the seemingly never-ending fight that was Hell, and now, he's bound to another's will, yet again. Fate takes forms most cruel with him.

"I spent years dreaming of you", Vergil admits, something he would never say out loud should Dante not have confided in him first. "I wronged you when we were younger, I realized that, and I didn't stop battling the remorse, even when everything and everyone in Hell wanted me dead"

Dante caresses Vergil's head, brushing back his hair.

"You don't gotta fight anymore. I'll keep you safe", Dante says.

What he means is that Vergil should set aside the warrior spirit that has kept him alive through all his hardships. It's rooted much too profoundly, Vergil finds, and each time he mistakenly thinks he has found peace, it comes crashing down.

"All I know is fight", Vergil mutters.

"It doesn't have to be like that anymore when you've got me"

"It's who I am"

"How about you try being just my brother for a while? My Vergil?"

"Yours?"

"I think it's fair I get to have you, for a change"

Vergil can't stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. "Yes. You've made sure of it, haven't you?"

Dante doesn't exactly admit it. He starts placing kisses on Vergil's face and neck, wherever he so pleases. "You complaining that I wanna keep you safe?" His cheek and jawline. "Even if I make love to you every night before bed?" His neck, the side, and the crook. "Maybe every morning, too?" His collarbone.

"Dante." Vergil rolls his eyes, the spots Dante kissed burning up with greed. "Though your prowess in bed is commendable, you're not that good"

Dante grunts, still mouthing Vergil's neck. "Wanna explain last night to me?"

"Didn't you just tell me you regret it?"

"Not the part where you screamed my name and I made you cum like a fountain"

Vergil feels his cheeks flush. "You exaggerate"

"Not forgetting that anytime soon"

"I enjoy you, fine"

"And you’ll still tell me with a straight face that you’re not happy with me?"

Dante raises his head again, expecting an honest answer out of Vergil, no doubt. His eyes are unusually solemn.

“What you have done— what we have done to each other won’t go away after a few nights of pleasure”, Vergil insists adamantly.

“That’s up to you, Vergil. I don’t resent you for anything”

“Don’t you dare put this burden on me”

“What burden?”

Vergil pushes Dante away and rises to sit from underneath him. “Are you this oblivious to what you’ve inflicted on me?”

“No”, Dante says hurriedly. He sits up, too, frowning. “I lived thinking I had killed you. My own brother. If you think I was happy about it for a second, think again, dumbass. This shit that I have to do with you now— it’s nothing in comparison”

Vergil envies the ease with which Dante delivers his confession. He supposes there’s plenty of truth in it. A gilded cage and these padded shackles he wears are a luxury when the other end of the scale death weighs. Vergil doesn’t flee when Dante comes closer again, holding Vergil by his nape.

“You were right about something else, too, that there's nobody else out there for me. It's always gonna be you.” Dante exhales, and his shoulders lower.

Those words turn something foreign in Vergil deep within, where he didn’t even know one could feel. He shudders in Dante’s warmth and eases his forehead to rest against his brother’s.

The screen flicks and rattles. Vergil ignores the sound, invested in the book he holds on his lap.

"Open your mouth"

Vergil jerks his head back. "What is that?"

Dante rolls his eyes and holds the item in front of Vergil's lips.

"It's a cracker", he says.

"And what's that on it?"

"Cream cheese. Try it"

Dante pushes the cracker demandingly against Vergil's lips until he opens them and accepts the offering between his teeth. Vergil bites carefully, covering his mouth while he chews.

"You don't gotta do that", Dante says gently and reaches to lower Vergil's hand. "I know what eating looks like"

Vergil doesn't suspect otherwise. It's simply embarrassing to be seen eating human food he has absolutely no need to sustain himself.

"Want another?" Dante offers.

"No, thank you"

"Was it good?"

Vergil yields to nodding. Dante picks another cracker from the plate and stubbornly brings it in front of Vergil's mouth.

"If you like it, have another", Dante insists. "I can look away if you want"

"Focus on your movie", Vergil says, but quickly snatches the cracker between his teeth and bites it down.

Dante does as he's told and turns back on the couch towards the screen. Vergil's legs lay over his lap, and the plate of snacks sits on the coffee table in front of them. Every now and then, Dante will rub Vergil's knee absentmindedly while watching his thriller. Vergil perks his head from his book whenever the ominous music gets obnoxiously loud. The remote lies on Dante's side of the couch. Vergil wonders if the chains might allow him to steal the device, only to mute the TV and throw the remote out of the window.

While he's sure Dante's eyes are on the screen, Vergil stealths another cracker from the plate. Hides his chewing behind the book he's reading.

"Could make you a drink, too", Dante offers without looking at him.

"I'd rather not get intoxicated", Vergil answers.

"I gotta see you drunk one day"

"You will be disappointed"

"Bet you'd love one of those housewife cocktails"

"Housewife cocktails?"

"Yeah, strong liquors, bright colors. Look unassuming, but they'll fuck you up"

"No, thank you"

Vergil doesn't particularly warm to the thought, nor the name of the drink. He sinks further down behind his book while Dante keeps caressing his thigh. It's oddly domestic, Vergil considers, something they never had the chance to settle into. Living with Dante was never in Vergil's list of wanted pleasures, and he certainly didn't think too warmly of it after their union. He, not unlike Dante, has never learned to call a location home, and yet they have achieved this strange stasis with another underneath the same roof.

Be it as it may, Vergil doesn't remember ever consenting to that, either. Dante beside him each day, attentive to even the smallest of Vergil's voices, isn't such a hindrance, after all.

Vergil watches him subtly above his book, studying the look of unusual solace on Dante's face. His restless maniac of a brother seems as contented as he. 

As soon as Dante hits the remote and the screen clicks, Vergil quickly lowers his head.

"Did you guess the killer?" Vergil asks.

"'Course, it's always the innocent-looking guy with one scene in the beginning", Dante says.

Vergil nods his head, though he doesn't listen.

"Whatcha reading?"

Vergil pulls his book further when Dante tries lifting it for a better look at the title. "The Art of War", he says, instead.

"I skimmed through one of those poetry collections"

"Did you now? I'm glad you learned to read, Dante"

"It was depressing as shit"

Vergil cites, "He loves to sit and hear me sing, then stretches out my golden wing, and mocks my loss of liberty."

"Like I said, depressing" 

Dante seems less eager to talk about it, getting up from the couch and taking the empty plate with him. Vergil listens to the sound of clattering and the rushing of water from the kitchenette. It’s not like Dante to see such effort towards tidiness. Perhaps he considers the irony, after all. Vergil tries to continue reading, but finds the words fleeing his gaze. Discomfort is much more keen to approach him.

The old wallclock has ticked eleven not so long ago. Vergil places his book down on the coffee table and cranks himself up to sit.

“You know what”, he hears Dante’s voice in the doorway.

“Hmm?” Vergil turns.

“You’re sleeping next to me tonight”

“Is that so?” Vergil asks mockingly.

“Yeah”

“And how do you suppose that will happen?”

“If you’re not feeling it, I can always drag you by your chains and tie you to the headboard”

Dante delivers the threat with an impressive ease. Vergil crosses his legs and leans back on the couch.

“My little brother, a demon courting his first mate”

“Right. You already think that I’m a monster, so what’s a couple sins more?”

“I don’t think you a monster”

“Something like that, though”

“No, I think you’re a servant to your fear of loss”

“What does that make you, then?”

“Able to offer you the kinship you seek”

Dante approaches the couch and yanks Vergil to standing by his chains. Vergil pulls back once, only for Dante to tighten his grip and draw Vergil close to him.

“You wish to bed me again tonight, is that it?” Vergil asks, looking down at Dante’s lips, much too near his.

Dante nods, lids hooded. “Tired of fucking you on that mattress”

“And what if I refuse?” Vergil feels fingers tracing his cheek, ever so gently, but he doesn’t pay mind. Studies Dante’s tempered expression. “Will you do it still?” There’s not enough hesitation to justify the silence that might settle should Vergil not keep taunting Dante. “Perhaps you are a monster, after all. That would make me your creator”

“I’ve made my own choices, haven’t I?”

“Yes, and now you must commit. What shall it be, little brother? Will you take what’s yours or keep wallowing in self-pity?”

The measure of Dante’s internal struggle grows shorter each day, and Vergil gets his answer sooner than expected. Dante grabs Vergil and practically swings him over his shoulder, hauling him into the bedroom. Vergil laughs— not because he’s thrilled to be carried around like a helpless maiden, but because it must be a design in the blood for the elder brother to be glad the junior has finally started coming into his own.

He has slept in Dante's bed. Vergil stares into the ceiling, as it's far from the sight of concrete he's used to seeing as he stirs awake. Beside him, lies Dante with his chest rising in calm breaths, still blissfully asleep.

How did he let this happen? Vergil rises to sit. The sin they indulged last night still smolders on his body in faint marks of Dante's teeth and the friction of their union. Vergil's eyes happen on his shackles, still firmly in place around his wrists and ankles, though the chain now hangs loose. Having been confined in the basement for so long, the sheer thought of being able to rise from bed on his own overwhelms him. Vergil hasn't walked a step without Dante by his arm in—

—how long has it been?

Vergil shuffles closer to the bedside table and pulls the drawer open. Finds a journal, but no one has bothered to cross the dates (or write down anything of real use).

"Vergil", Dante suddenly mutters and throws a lazy arm around Vergil's waist. "What are you doing?"

"What day is it?" Vergil asks him.

Dante hasn't even opened his eyes. He yawns so wide it must hurt his mouth.

"Sun— uh, no, Monday"

"I was expecting a numeric answer"

"Seventh, maybe?"

"Of August?"

"No, it's October, baby. Don't be silly"

Vergil stills and drops the journal. A lump twists painfully in his throat. Time is again starting to slip between his fingers like sand, each day blending into the next, no true night to keep him grounded.

The thud is enough to stir Dante from his state of half-slumber. He quickly rises and brings Vergil back to bed, wrapping his arms around him as shelter.

"You didn't know?" Dante asks cluelessly, rubbing Vergil's back.

"I'm— losing time again", Vergil words. Soon, a year may pass before it dawns on him. Another lifetime of captivity.

"I'm sorry, I should've brought you a calendar or something"

Vergil leans into Dante, hiding his face in Dante's neck so the horror written all over him won't be so plain to see.

"It's my fault. Gotta take better care of you", Dante says.

Vergil must pull himself together and ease the child-like panic that turns in him. He sniffles and withdraws from his place of comfort, gathering what little remains of his dignity. Foolish of him to show Dante another weakness.

"Pardon my hysteria", he mutters.

"It's okay, sweetheart", Dante hums and runs his fingers through Vergil's hair. Softly rakes the scalp. "It's entirely on me. I should've known better. I promise I won't let you get confused like that again"

Lulling into that promise is a temptation Vergil resists. He slowly shuffles away, leaving Dante seated next to him, with a hand lightly placed on his thigh. Dante has sworn many things to him: providing him with comfort, a warm bed, baths, even food should he like, almost tolerable company when Vergil prepares for sleep, and intimacy that nears divinity. Those promises, Dante has kept precisely.

"Thank you", Vergil says quietly.

"I told you, you don't gotta thank me", Dante reminds him.

"I can't be easy for you to tend to"

"Hell no, you're the most high-maintenance person I've ever met"

It's not a particularly funny joke, yet Vergil feels the corner of his mouth lift.

Dante continues, slightly more seriously, "but you know I'll do anything for you. Even if you're gonna be a princess about it"

"I would— like to do something for you, in turn"

"You don't gotta"

Vergil thinks he must be ridiculous even considering it. He hasn't been very good for Dante, always struggling and making tending to him a chore, but Dante has been good to him. Though he knows little about fairness, Vergil wants to be even. He inches closer to Dante and climbs onto his lap astride, the chains clinking.

"Oh?" Dante raises a brow, immediately dropping his hands onto Vergil's hips. "On second thought, maybe you do"

Vergil tilts his head and kisses Dante, lingering only a while, fearing Dante won't be attracted to his willingness, but he's pulled in fiercely, the gasp of relief swallowed off his lips. The hands on his hips wander, squeezing him closer and drawing fingerprints on his skin.

"I would like to pleasure you", Vergil whispers against Dante's mouth.

"Yeah? You wanna ride me, baby?"

"Yes"

Dante grins, wrapping his hand to grab Vergil’s ass. "Want me to help you prep?”

Vergil supposes that with his hands chained, he doesn’t have a range of options. Knowing Dante, it only delights him. Vergil nods his head hesitantly. Dante reaches for the bedside table and pulls out the familiar-looking bottle of lube.

“You can stay right there if you want”, Dante says playfully and pops open the cap.

It’s a terrible idea, Vergil thinks— was terrible to begin with. A heat spreads on his face when Dante’s slick fingers start probing him, only a gentle stroke across the hole that sends a shiver through Vergil’s spine. His legs are spread wide enough for Dante to have uncontested access to him, and judging by Dante’s smug grin, it’s more than entertaining for him. Vergil straightens his body and rests his hands against Dante’s chest. He whimpers and drops his head on Dante’s shoulder when he’s breached, by two fingers at once, brutally stretching him open.

“Does that hurt?” Dante murmurs in his ear.

“No”, Vergil hisses, only a half-lie.

“You’re so tight, baby, you think I could have my fingers back?”

“That’s— unlikely”

Vergil exhales into Dante’s neck, trying to relax. He groans once Dante starts slowly stroking back and forth, curving his fingers just enough to hit Vergil’s prostate. Makes his legs tremble, and realize there’s simply no way he might have made it even half as enjoyable for himself.

“Relax”, Dante shushes him. “I know this is very exciting for you, getting to ride my dick and all, but I need you open for me”

“Yes”, Vergil sighs both an admission and an agreement.

Braced on Dante, Vergil breathes deep and eases himself, resting his forehead on Dante’s shoulder for a moment.

“Much better, isn’t it?” Dante asks while his fingers glide in and out.

Vergil nods his head, whining in the back of his throat. He arches his back, grinding himself onto Dante’s fingers. Only feeds his own eagerness. When they slowly pull out of him, Vergil grunts a lament.

“Easy, princess, you’re getting something better now”, Dante teases him.

Vergil raises himself and lowers his eyes, no less impatiently, looking as Dante slicks his cock with a generous layer of lube. The wet gleam’s enchanting under Dante’s hand. A shiver crawls up Vergil’s spine when he thinks of how he’ll manage mounting Dante.

“I have never—“, Vergil tries.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m right here”, Dante says softly and guides Vergil by his hips to lightly sit on the cockhead, not pushing him down yet. One hand remains on Vergil’s hip, another keeping his cock aligned.

Performing such service has never been on Vergil’s mind. He’s used to Dante chasing him and taking him in a whim of lust and adrenaline with barely enough decency for Vergil to consider it seduction. This comfort and agency now offered to him feel foreign.

Vergil hooks his shackled hands behind Dante's neck and lowers himself onto his cock. The fat head gets caught on his tight rim, splitting him open with a wonderful ache that leaves Vergil's thighs trembling on Dante's lap.

"Shush", Dante husks, "we're not in a rush."

"What if I am?" Vergil chews on his lower lip. "I need you inside of me"

"You'll get me, I promise. Just don't want you hurting yourself"

It doesn't hurt— this is not pain, despite Vergil whining as he sinks further down on Dante's cock. He's presenting his wet hole for Dante to fuck however soon and however rough he likes, casting aside all inhibition. Both of Dante's hands grasp his hips, smoothing over his skin in admiration.

A sharp exhale, and Vergil's seated, the walls of his hole throbbing, blood rushing hot through his body, and his eyes almost flipping into his skull in sheer relief. He feels filled to the brim, stretched wide to accommodate the thick cock inside of him.

Cheeks flushed red, Vergil heaves. Needs a moment to gather himself and let the screaming of his body go silent as he teaches himself the sensation of sitting on Dante's cock like it's a throne.

Dante gasps, too, his head tipped back, palming Vergil’s ass. "Fuck, that's good. Please, baby, ride my dick, you feel like heaven to me right now"

That voice crawls under Vergil's skin. He brings his hands to Dante's shoulders as much as the chain allows and lifts himself carefully. The glide is easier than he expects, a wet slap of flesh on the follow once he drops down again.

"Take your time", Dante urges, "enjoy yourself— really need you to enjoy this, baby."

Vergil does. He grinds himself eagerly on Dante, moaning in his ear at how good the growing pressure in his belly feels. It's no proper service unless Vergil lets it be known how he thrills in riding his little brother. His nails dig into Dante's shoulders as he slowly rocks his hips, relishing in every tug and jolt that shoots through his body.

"Does it feel good for you?" Dante asks, grabbing at Vergil's hips as if asking him to go faster. "You like riding my dick, baby?"

Vergil bobs his head keenly.

"Say it, need to hear you say it"

"I love riding you, Dante, love ruining myself on you"

"Fuck, Vergil—" Dante brings his hand behind Vergil's head and pulls him closer. "Can't resist you when you're like this"

Vergil isn't sure what Dante means, not before the hips below lift and Dante starts to fuck into him in urgent thrusts, burying himself inside of Vergil fully each time. Dante's cock hits right on his prostate, blurring Vergil's vision and urging him to find tandem with his brother. He rocks his hips to meet Dante's, chasing his pleasure shamelessly.

"There", Vergil whines, "perfect— perfect right there"

"Hold on tight. I've got you", Dante promises.

The merciless pace grows too much. Vergil moans and falls lax in the arms that hold him, head dropped on Dante's shoulder, and his shackled hands drooping behind Dante's neck. The chain clinks along the thrusts, Vergil hears it echo inside his head. Dante heaves in his ear, fingers knitted between strands of Vergil’s hair, and holding him near.

Vergil drifts and sees it all; himself nestled against Dante, quivering in the high of his climax, drooling all over Dante's shoulder, the shackles around his wrists keeping him docile, with Dante having tamed what was once formidable, now a shadow of the former self.

It no longer feels like such a pity. 

 A cloak of cotton has fallen over him. Vergil stirs awake in Dante's bed, under a layer of blankets and absolutely no piece of clothing to his name. The bedroom window is open, and a lovely breeze hits the much too warm room. Vergil shoves out his knee from underneath the blankets to feel the cool air.

Good sleep has been a luxury beyond his grasp for a long time, and now, when Vergil can rest himself whenever he so desires, his body can't seem to get enough of it.

It makes little difference that he's chained. Vergil readjusts the padded metal around his wrists and lowers his hands under the blankets. A pleasant strain crawls beneath his skin, almost a tease to his senses. Vergil parts his legs, gently grinding himself into a better position. His cock is stiff, he realizes— almost yields to touching himself in the warmth of the blankets.

But why should Vergil see the effort when he has a very eager lover at his disposal?

"Dante?" he summons.

His little brother comes in a hurry, stopping in the doorway. "Hey there, sleepyhead, you ready to get up?" he asks playfully.

"I don't like that you're up before me"

"Oh?" Dante leans into the doorframe. "Would you prefer I stay in bed with you and pretend to sleep?"

"That would be nice"

"I'll remember tomorrow. Want me to get some breakfast going?" Dante already turns half his body as if he has every intention of leaving for the kitchen next.

"Dante"

Vergil raises his hand, only what the chains allow, and beckons Dante closer. The corners of Dante's mouth immediately curve, and he walks to the bed. He leans over Vergil, looking down at him suggestively.

"Need something from me, baby?" he asks, voice lower.

Vergil tuts at the implication despite its accuracy. "Perhaps some company"

"Company, huh? I can do that." Dante runs his hand over Vergil's bare knee. "You're looking foxy like this, by the way"

Vergil raises his brow at the odd praise. He spares no time for a counter when Dante's hand delves under the blanket, smoothing over his inner thigh before discovering where his erection is lightly tenting the fabric.

"I'd guess you did sleep pretty well", Dante teases him.

"Very observant of you", Vergil answers.

Dante pulls the blanket off Vergil’s body like patiently peeling a present. He begins planting kisses over Vergil's chest— devotedly, plentifully, his lips so soft that Vergil can't think of a touch more gentle as he follows how Dante mouths him.

“Could spend a day on you, princess”, Dante deems before closing his lips around a nipple.

Vergil lets out a playful hum. “I’m a princess now?”

“Mmh”

Dante raises his head, green-blue eyes glimmering. Looks like a happy puppy eager to please.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asks.

Vergil exhales, pleased with the extent of Dante's attention, "Not at all, my love."

"Woah"

"What’s the matter?"

"What did you just call me?"

"An oaf"

"Thought so." Dante grins from ear to ear. "Gonna let your love worship every inch of you, or you just being a tease?"

"That sounds tempting. Kiss my neck again”

“Yes, your majesty”

Vergil tilts his head back when Dante dives in to kiss his throat, all over the vulnerable crook and under Vergil's jaw. While Dante services him, Vergil slips his fingers under the collar of Dante’s shirt and pulls on the clothing. Dante lets it get removed before returning his lips to Vergil’s neck, where they belong.

"Know what, baby", Dante mutters suddenly, pulling away.

"Something the matter?" Vergil doesn't like the considering look on Dante's face.

"I think we're ready to take these off"

Vergil doesn't, at first, register what Dante means before he's already grabbing Vergil's hands by the chain and clicking open the shackles. They fall on the bed with a heavy thud, their gleam gone as soon they no longer feed on Vergil's demonic powers.

Though lined with every comfort, the shackles have left deep dents in Vergil's wrists. He's afraid to run his finger there, tracing over one of the darkened lines ever so lightly. After having his strength sapped for so long, Vergil feels it rush him, overwhelming, crackling with ardor, filling the emptiness in him— the void and the helplessness he has come to know.

Dante sits on top of him with as terrible a look in his eyes as the first time he bound Vergil. He's waiting, expecting Vergil to strike, no doubt, and retaliate for all these months of imprisonment.

"Thank you, Dante", Vergil says softly, still rubbing his wrist, in search of the weight he's used to carrying.

"'Course", Dante clears his throat.

"Have you lost the urge to make love to me now that I'm no longer bound?"

"No. I'm just wondering if you have, now that you don't have to suck up to me"

Vergil shakes his head. “I haven’t done much of that, have I?”

“You’ve been giving me hell”

It’s an amusing prospect. Vergil beckons Dante closer with his hand and leans in to kiss him. They’re both decent about it, playfully licking at one another with wandering hands.

A phone rings in the lobby. Dante separates hesitantly. Vergil withdraws, too, and extends his wrists. Raises his head to meet Dante’s widened eyes. Why his brother should look so puzzled, Vergil can’t explain.

“You will take the call, won’t you?” Vergil frowns.

“I should—“, Dante stutters.

“And you want me to still be here when you get back, isn't that right?”

“Do you want to be here?”


Vergil scoffs with contempt. Somehow, after everything, Dante still suspects his devotion. He gives his little brother a condemning look. "I was born two hours before you and those moments on this earth without you remain the most tormenting part about my existence. Should I have my way, we would never be apart again. I would like some insurance"


"Yeah." Dante chokes. "That's a good way to put it"

Vergil offers his hands again and lets Dante close the shackles. They sit comfortably over the narrowest part of his wrists. Vergil succumbs to the faintness that settles over him again as the devil inside of him curls into a ball. 

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Dante presses a kiss on Vergil's cheek before getting off the bed. 

“Make haste”, Vergil requests.

He collects Dante’s shirt from where he tossed it earlier and brings it to his face. Basks in Dante’s scent and lets the comfort it brings fill him.

There, wanes the last of his fighting spirit. Vergil doesn't know to mourn it.