An Average Morning

[Notes and Disclaimers]

Whenever Vergil stopped to think about it, it rather amazed him how little he had in common with his twin. Mornings were usually the best example of this, and the morning that was currently breaking outside was no exception; while Vergil luxuriated in a slow stretch before sliding from beneath the sheets, the lump next to him snorted and rolled over, turning away from the perceived dawn, for all that it failed to penetrate the windowless room.

Sparing only a brief glance of fond disgust, Vergil padded from the small room, delighting in the touch of cold air to his bare skin; for all that winter rarely brought anything more than heavy rain, mornings were still chilled enough to encourage resubmersion in a warm bed. Dante complained about it incessantly, for all that Vergil had never seen him don so much as a robe. Pleasant memories of warming brought a faint smirk to his lips as he mounted the stairs, fingers trailing over the wall as he made his way to the newly-added kitchen on the second floor.

"Would you put some clothes on? Morning sickness doesn't need any encouragement."

"Good morning, Trish," Vergil returned with a smile that somehow utterly failed to be reassuring. "You are looking quite fecund today."

Trish grimaced and presented him with her back; her advanced pregnancy had left her unusually uncertain, a fact that Vergil felt it his duty to exploit. "Is Dante awake?"

"Did you just give birth to a three-headed goat?" Shrugging, Vergil moved to raid the pantry, ignoring the sharp slap to his exposed backside in favor of more edible distractions.

"Don't get smart; the shock just might induce labor."

Hands full of foodstuffs, Vergil turned to meet Trish's sardonic gaze, another smirk touching his lips before, quick as a striking snake, his mouth covered hers, tongue tracking the slight part of her lips before he pulled back - barely a heartbeat of contact. "I'd be doing you a favor, dollface. Do you think the world is ready for four Sparda's?"

Reflexes kicking in too late to matter, Trish lurched back a step, scrubbing a hand over her mouth sourly. "Don't do that, blue boy."

Vergil's expression might have qualified as innocent, were it not for the twitch at the corner of his mouth and the lowering of his heavy lashes. "But, Trish," he reminded her in a soft purr, "you know where my mouth has been."

"That's what worries me," she muttered, but Vergil had already gone, running lightly down the stairs.

If Vergil had been asked to describe his mood as he opened the door to the room he shared with his twin, the first word to come to his mind would have been 'euphoric', yet that covered only one small square of the grid of emotion swelling within him. When asked to explain it, however, he would have been without words; it simply was, an amalgamation that filled him beyond endurance.

"Dante," he said as he nudged the door shut with a foot, tossing rolls of crackers and cans of cheese spread onto the foot of the bed, "I brought breakfast." When the lump remained motionless, he sighed in exasperation and, catching handfuls of the tangled sheets, jerked them away from the prone form.

"Vergil," Dante groaned, muffled by the pillow he'd buried his face in until the utterance was an indistinguishable blur of sounds. "Go away."

"I brought breakfast," Vergil said again, splaying his cold hands over Dante's exposed shoulder blades; despite his complaining of cold, Dante was his own heat source, and his skin seemed to burn against Vergil's.

"Shit!" Dante yelped, twitching away from the chilled flesh and groping fruitlessly for the sheets. "What'd you do, stick your hands in the freezer?"

Vergil chuckled lightly, a breathy ripple of sound, and one hand found Dante's waist, fingers curving around his side to caress of the line of his hipbone. "Baby," he teased, knees finding the mattress to either side of Dante's thighs as his fingertips chased the shivers ripping Dante's skin. "Say 'thank you'."

"What for?" Despite his attempt to remain aloof, Dante's body was already moving to meet Vergil's caresses.

"Bringing you breakfast in bed, of course." His fingers traced a glissando down Dante's spine, a stifled moan coaxing them to repeat it before he splayed both hands over Dante's back again and began to knead. His hands slid over Dante's body as they covered back and shoulders, arms and buttocks and, as he spread the firm cheeks of the latter and darted his tongue between them, he paused to savor Dante's resulting moan, muffled by the desperately-clutched pillow.

"Like that?" he asked softly, one finger exploring the top of the cleft as his other hand slid heavily over Dante's back to grip his shoulder. "Do you want more?" Even before Dante nodded, Vergil was shifting to stretch over him, chest to back as his lips caressed Dante's nape and his cock nestled against the valley his tongue had so recently occupied. "You're so easy, baby."

One of Dante's hands released the pillow to instead tangle in Vergil's hair, blunt nails lightly teasing his scalp. "Who was the one last night begging to be fucked, spread over my desk with his legs in the air?"

"Hm." The non-committal sound was barely a hum before Vergil licked the rim of Dante's ear, then lightly worried the lobe. "Who was it who got so turned on at the last job that Alastor was redundant? Who was it who nearly took a chunk out of my ass when he forgot about Ifrit in his haste to get my pants off?"

"Fucker," Dante grumbled half-heartedly, his lashes rustling against the pillowcase as his lids lowered. "It was your fault anyway."

"Mine?" Vergil nestled his cheek against the back of Dante's neck, his lashes lowering as well as Dante's heat permeated his body.

"Yours." Dante's voice was soft, smooth as night without its usual cockiness. "The way you watch me..."

Vergil's eyes slit open, staring at the wall without seeing it. "Can't help it. You've never seen yourself fight; you're... fucking gorgeous."

"Verg," Dante began, only to be silenced by the press of his twin's fingers to his lips.

"Don't." The tip of Vergil's middle finger traced the line of Dante's lower lip before falling away, his hand tucking instead under Dante's shoulder. "You don't have to say anything, 'te."

Surprisingly, Dante obeyed, instead shifting to pluck Vergil's hand from his shoulder and draw it back to his mouth. The brief tickle of his breath against Vergil's palm was the only warning Vergil got before Dante's tongue brushed over his skin, tracing the intricate pattern of lines there.

As Vergil's fingers flexed spasmodically, his gasp ruffled the hair of Dante's nape and his body arched to mold to his twin's. Dante's hips lifted to meet his, trapping Vergil's perking erection in the tight press of their bodies, and both groaned as arousal pulsed with renewed interest.

"Verg," Dante murmured against Vergil's palm, his tongue tracing the lengt6h of one finger as punctuation, "let me..."

Without hesitation, Vergil's knees parted again to accept the thrust of Dante's body, although it took a moment longer for him to gather himself to move upright. His hands found Dante's shoulders again, encouraging his twin as Dante squirmed onto his back. Face to face with Dante for the first time that morning, Vergil's fingers explored his cheeks, splaying finally at the sides of Dante's head as he bent and their mouths came together.

Dante was waiting for him, and met the fierce possessiveness of Vergil's kiss with his own as his hands ran down the planes of Vergil's back to curve over the globes of his ass. Squeezing firmly, he lifted his own hips, then groaned helplessly as Vergil's teeth closed hard around his lip in response to the slide of their erections against each other's.

"Fuck," Vergil breathed around Dante's captive lip, then released it to instead bite his throat, leaving red imprints against Dante's pale skin. His tongue traced the arches in slow sweeps before moving away, touching briefly at the corner of Dante's mouth before Dante levered himself onto his elbows to gaze down at his twin.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked softly, rocking his hips against Dante's for emphasis. "Do you want your legs over my shoulders as I pound you into the headboard? Or do you want to fuck me? Is that it? Do you want me to ride you, or watch me as I come into my hand?"

"Verg," Dante groaned again in a tight voice, his hands clenching tightly enough to leave marks in the white flesh of Vergil's buttocks. "I don't care, as long as you don't fucking stop again."

"Hm." Vergil's teeth closed on Dante's earlobe as his hips rocked again, leaving Dante baring his throat as he arched his head back, swallowing another cry. Vergil's tongue tasted the skin under which Dante's pulse raced, and then he shifted abruptly upright again. His eyes caught Dante's as he moved up Dante's body until his bent knees touched the sides of Dante's ribcage and Dante's swollen cock nestled against the cleft of his buttocks. Vergil's fingers brushed over Dante's thigh as he closed his hand around the base of Dante's shaft, and then his own thighs were tensing as he impaled himself.

Dante was frozen, breath stilled on his lips as Vergil engulfed him. Above him, Vergil panted unevenly as his hands braced on Dante's chest, thumbs rolling over Dante's pebbled nipples as he tensed, then began to move.

Once, then again, then again, Vergil lifted only to sink again, his rhythm growing more ragged each time Dante filled him. His fingers pinched sharply, twisting sharply as his breath escaped in a shuddery rush, and then Dante was suddenly in motion. So quickly that it seemed to be one position traded for another with no transition, Dante had rolled them to trap Vergil's body between Dante's and the mattress.

There was a heartbeat's pause, and then Dante moved, Vergil groaned, and control snapped. Dante's hands found Vergil's knees, pushing them up until Vergil was bent nearly double. Watching Dante's face through his lashes, Vergil flexed his thighs, rocking his hips against Dante's. He wasn't disappointed; the shift embedded Dante even more deeply within Vergil and left Dante with an expression so enthralled as to be nearly comical.

"Fuck," Vergil breathed again, and as though it were a cue, Dante began to move in earnest. His rhythm was punishing, hard enough to force Vergil's breath from his body with each thrust, and Vergil welcomed it unhesitatingly. His fingers dug into Dante's shoulders, leaving raw half-moons as orgasm approached, then broke, his milky semen smearing between them as Dante continued to thrust. Moments later, when Dante came, his groan as he buried himself within his twin one last time was one of the sweetest sounds Vergil had ever heard.

"You're so easy, baby," Vergil whispered some time later, as the cool air against their skin penetrated their awareness. His hands ran over Dante's arms before cupping the back of his neck and drawing their mouths together again, content with the lazy, comfortable exchange.

"You're still a fucker," Dante murmured against Vergil's throat as their lips parted, an easy smile warm against Vergil's skin. "Don't ever change."

- fin -

Notes and Disclaimers

Devil May Cry is © Capcom Co., Ltd.

An Average Morning requires a fair amount of explanation. First, it deals strictly with information as was provided in the first game. Second, it lives in a world that is one giant in-joke shared with Jo-chan and, as such, has huge gaps of things we'd developed but never actually wrote. Third, Vergil survives, Dante and Trish propagate the species, and Vergil adopts a chupacabra that his nieces name Fluffy. Still doesn't make sense? That's okay.