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"Wow," Nero says, and adds an appreciative whistle. "Aren't you a little overdressed for just hanging around a dive like this? I mean, I know you're the owner, but–"
The older man is a blur of blue and white as he turns around, and the hand that closes around Nero's throat is tighter than anything Dante has thrown at him before. Sure, they always play rough together, but tonight he seems to mean business. He really means business.
"Hey, come on. Don't I even get a drink first?" The boy chokes out past the tightness circling his throat. Maybe it's just the slicked-back hair, but even the older man's eyes look different tonight. Like it's someone else behind there, looking out at him. Maybe he's drunk already, tanked up on some weird demon liquor and looking for a fight. Or maybe he's just trying to mess with Nero, give him a fright and then laugh at the look on his face. Whatever it is, whatever Dante's up to tonight, the boy can't decide whether he's more unnerved or turned on.
"I knew my brother was a narcissist," the older man says in what most definitely isn't Dante's voice, and brings his other hand up to grip Nero's chin. "But he's really outdone himself this time."
Those eyes sweep over Nero's face, inspecting every detail. The look in them only grows colder.
"Your brother..?" The boy says, and he's answered his own question before the words have died on his lips. Pain circles his neck, sharp and hard, as Vergil's hand tightens. He can suppress the moan that tries to fight its way up to his lips, he can clamp down on the instinct to push his hips forward, straining for contact, but his eyes will give him away, he knows it. And all the older man has to do is step a little closer, or glance down, or–
"The resemblance is more than skin deep, I see." Vergil reaches down between them, and grabs the boy's crotch as if it were his own possession.
There's no hiding that, and Nero doesn't even try to fight it now. He looks up at Vergil, facing that gaze unflinchingly, and lets his lips curl into a smile as he pushes up against the older man's hand. "You aren't going to be pretending I'm him the whole time, are you? Because that's a little–"
Vergil shoves him away, and he falls hard against the couch, sending books and pizza boxes scattering across the floor. In an instant Vergil is right behind him, pinning him down with a hand on the back of his neck. Nero can feel the older man's cock grinding against him, hard and hot through the leather between them. He grinds back, running on pure instinct, shifting and squirming just as eagerly as he would have done for Dante. Maybe it isn't the smartest thing to do, maybe he should go limp, play dead and hope Vergil loses interest, but he's too far gone now to do anything but what feels good. The few doubts he has are buried under the insistent ache that burns and gnaws at him, throbbing in every muscle and prickling at every inch of skin. He needs to be touched, and right now he doesn't give a damn who does it.
"Are you this shameless with him?" Vergil's tone is smooth and cool as he pulls back, turns, and takes a seat on the couch.
Nero watches the older man move, letting his eyes trace every contour of muscle under the leather. Desire and pride loosen his tongue, making him reckless. "What's more shameless than moving in on your own brother's–"
The room fills with silence for a moment, and Nero lets the word hang unspoken.
That quick, cold hand reaches out again and this time grabs hold of the boy's hair, pulling him forward with only a fraction of the power Nero knows is in there. After all, it's not as if he's putting up a fight. He slides up onto Vergil's lap and slips into that familiar position, surprised at how easy it is to do this with another man. Is it just because this is Dante's twin? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe these days he could do this with anyone, straddle anyone's lap and let anyone watch as he unbuckles, unzips and shucks off clothes until he's half-naked under their eyes. Maybe these days he's anyone's.
Vergil's touch is as rough as Dante's, but that's where the similarity ends. One hand grips Nero's ass, squeezing tight enough that the nails dig into his bare skin, while the other toys with his mouth. Nero glances down as he lets a couple of fingers slip between his lips, expecting to see something like lust in the older man's eyes. Instead he finds contempt and amusement, but it makes no difference. His body soaks up the attention anyway, whether it's cruelty or simple passion at the root of it.
"Making yourself at home?"
Nero freezes at the sound of that voice. The door closes with a bang, and he has to steel himself not to jump. He risks a quick glance over his shoulder, and that's enough to see all he wants to see of Dante's expression. He turns away, keeping his eyes fixed steadfastly on the leather of the couch. Neither brother's gaze is something he wants to meet right now.
"I amused myself while I waited for you." Vergil replies, his voice rich and sharp with contempt. "I do hope I haven't inconvenienced you."
One hard shove sends Nero to the floor, and he lands heavily on his side, barely breaking the fall with his arms.
"What's mine is yours, and what's yours is yours, is that right?" Dante laughs, folding his arms loosely. Nero has seen that stance before, and he knows exactly what comes next, springing out of that façade of nonchalance. The thought of the struggle he's about to see does nothing to quell his arousal.
He can feel his cheeks beginning to burn. He shouldn't be embarrassed, the two brothers are obviously no prudes, and yet lying there half-stripped makes him blush like a frightened virgin. Not that the older men are paying him the slightest attention now. The two of them stand a few feet apart, their gazes locked, and the air between them seems thick with tension. Like a little prey animal caught between two predators, Nero can't resist gambling that the fight for territory will be enough to make them forget all about him; he pushes himself up to his hands and knees slowly, quietly, and is just about try standing up when Vergil turns and delivers a kick too fast to dodge, landing squarely in his stomach and knocking the air out of him in one blow.
"Stay where you are, boy." The older man orders, and Nero has no intention of defying him. At least not until he can breathe again.
"Might want to keep out of the way of this, kid." Dante says, tossing the boy the briefest glance as he launches himself at Vergil, smiling tautly as he tries to land the first blow. The older brother blocks it, but not easily, and the second connects hard enough to knock him back against the wall. It's too fast; Nero's eyes can barely keep up with them as he watches them fight, streaking back and forth across the room in a blur of red and blue.
He can hear them clearly, though, even if his eyes can't track them. Their breathing, shallow and harsh, the grunts of pain, the curses hissed at each other, the mocking laughter when one or the other lands a blow. The sounds of the fight engulf him, making him harder than ever, and it's just too much to resist. Shifting slowly onto his side, Nero gradually slides a hand down to his lap, careful not to move fast enough to attract attention. The older men seem not to notice, and the success makes him bold. He strokes his cock slowly, watching the blur of motion as the two of them fight, timing his strokes to fit the rhythm of the struggle. Each grunt of exertion makes his flesh throb, and he tightens his grip as the fight grows more intense, stroking himself a little rougher with each thud of impact, each hiss of pain.
Without warning, Vergil dodges his brother's punch and crouches by Nero's side, pausing just long enough to seize hold of the boy's throat again. Effortlessly lifting Nero up, the older man turns to face Dante, and all at once Nero finds himself between the two of them, held up like a shield in front of Vergil's body.
"This," Vergil says, tightening his grip around Nero's throat, "is a distraction."
The boy lets his hands fall to his sides, and leans back against Vergil, letting the older man support his weight. The scent of sweat and arousal is thick in the air around them, and Nero can't help but squirm against that cruel grip, pushing back against the hardness still jutting against his ass.
"More like the main event." Dante smirks, stepping close enough that Nero can smell the liquor on his breath now. "You didn't come here just to see your little brother, did you?"
Vergil laughs. "Jealous of your own protégé?"
Shifting slightly, the boy brushes his thigh against Dante's groin. Sure enough, he's as hard as his brother; evidently weird tastes run in the family. Not that Nero has any need to talk.
"I know you too well to buy that this is a happy accident, that's all."
"So suspicious…" Vergil's voice drips disdain. "Don't you trust your own brother?"
Nero rolls his eyes, and pulls against Vergil's grip. "Will you two just shut up and fuck me?"
The hand around his neck loosens, dropping him suddenly to the floor. He falls to his knees, hitting the ground with enough force to send a jolt of pain through him, and the pain just makes his desire sharper. He kneels there, looking up impatiently like a dog waiting to be fed, and waits to see which brother will be the first to move.
As straightforward as ever, Dante unzips quickly, baring his cock and holds it to Nero's lips without any preamble. Vergil looks on with what looks like disapproval, but Nero can see the older man's hand working his own zip as he watches. Sliding his lips down the length of Dante's cock, the boy takes as much as he can in one stroke, forcing himself down almost to the point of choking. If he's going to have double the usual audience, then he's going to put on double the usual show. So he sucks and licks hungrily at the older man's cock, throwing himself into it, and loses himself in the taste and scent and feel of that hard flesh filling his mouth.
Without warning a tight hand grips his hair, yanks his head up and pulls him to the side. Before he can speak, Vergil shoves his own cock into the boy's mouth. Nero can still taste Dante's skin on his tongue, and now the taste of Vergil fills his senses, mingling together so that he feels almost drunk on the feeling.
"You've taught him well." Vergil's voice is lower now, almost friendly.
"Not guilty." Dante laughs, and a warm hand rests on the back of Nero's neck. "He was like this when I found him."
The hand on his neck moves up a little and pushes Vergil's hand aside; now it's Dante's grip that guides his head up and down, forcing him into a slow, steady rhythm that seems to have just the right effect on the older brother. Half-opening his eyes, Nero can just make out the curve of Dante's fingers circling the base of Vergil's cock, holding it steady as he guides the boy's lips along the length of the shaft. Nero can't resist flicking out his tongue on the downstroke, lapping at the leather of Dante's glove as his lips brush against those fingers. A quiet groan of desire tells him he's hit the right mark, and Vergil echoes the sound a second later. Nero tips his head up to meet the older man's gaze, smiling to himself at how easy all this seems to be.
"Come here, kid." Dante says it like a request, but the hand in Nero's hair won't take no for an answer. The boy lets himself be pulled upright and dragged over to the couch, casting a wistful glance Vergil's way as he moves. Dante sits down heavily, spreading his legs and pointing at the spot between his feet.
"What's the matter?" Nero smirks as he kneels in position. "Do you need to sit down for a while, old man?"
Dante opens his mouth to reply, but a sharp slap to Nero's ass interrupts them both.
"Shut up and get his cock back in your mouth, boy." Vergil orders, grabbing a handful of Nero's hair and forcing his head down. "My brother might tolerate backchat, but I won't."
Nero braces himself against Dante's thighs, coughing a little as his throat is suddenly impaled, and he's thankful for it, because who knows what kind of stupid remark he'd answer with if it wasn't for the cock filling his mouth. Vergil's hand tightens in his hair, dragging his head up and down roughly, as if the older man really does intend to choke him. Saliva runs down the boy's chin, dripping onto the leather of the couch, and the wet sound of his lips sliding along Dante's shaft seems obscenely loud. He can't help but moan, quiet and muffled, each time the head of the older man's cock rams the back of his throat. He can't help but reach down and begin to stroke his own cock again, closing his eyes and focusing on the pain of that hard flesh stretching his lips and throat over and over again.
The hand in his hair is gone, and Nero slumps forward a little, only realising then how much he'd been leaning into Vergil's grip. Dante's hand settles on the back of his neck, keeping him in place as he listens to Vergil rifling through the drawers of Dante's desk. It doesn't take him long to find what he needs, but still the older man gives a little tut of disapproval as he approaches the couch again.
"Utter chaos." Vergil murmurs, grabbing hold of the boy's wrists in one hand. "I don't know how you stand it."
"If it's that bad, why do you keep coming back?"
Nero cringes inwardly; are they really going to go at it again, now, of all times? But somehow, bent over and exposed like this, the boy finds he cares less and less how much bickering he has to endure; if Vergil is anything like his brother, Nero knows what's coming next, and that will make all this feuding worthwhile. Sure enough, Vergil's fingers brush against the cleft of his ass, cold and slick with lube. The older man's touch is slow and deliberate, almost painfully careful, and his fingertips have only made half a dozen circuits around the mouth of Nero's ass before the boy is moaning his need to be fucked. With his mouth still full, all Nero can do is push back against those fingers and suck all the harder on Dante's cock, hoping that the younger brother will take the hint.
"Come on, don't tease him." Dante pulls back, letting his cock rest against Nero's cheek, wet and heavy and hot against the boy's skin. "Get on with it, Vergil."
"Who are you accusing me of teasing?" The older brother gives Nero one last stroke of his fingers, and then lines up the head of his cock to rub against the boy's ass. "Him, or you?"
"Please…" Nero murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the shaft of Dante's cock. "Give it to me…"
"Aw, look, he's asking nicely like a good boy." Dante laughs, and guides Nero's lips up to the tip of his cock, holding him just out of reach. "Maybe he is well-trained after all."
There's a snort of derision from behind him, and then all Nero can focus on is the feeling of Vergil's cock pushing forward, slowly and relentlessly penetrating him. Inch after inch of that hard shaft sinks into his ass, driving a stream of little yelps and gasps from the boy's lips, and when Vergil's hips finally settle flush against him it's all Nero can do not to whine and beg for more. No sooner has that hard cock fully impaled him than it starts to withdraw, gradually and steadily, until only the tip is still buried in his ass; Vergil pushes forward again without pausing, fucking the boy in a torturously slow rhythm that seems designed to infuriate Nero as much as it excites him.
"Hey," Dante says softly, giving the boy's cheek a light slap. "Don’t forget about me, now."
Looking up at the older man through half-closed, unfocused eyes, Nero dips his head and parts his lips again, taking the head of Dante's cock into his mouth and sucking hungrily on it. It takes him a moment to adjust his pace to the rhythm set by Vergil's thrusts, but soon enough the boy's lips are sliding easily along that thick shaft, spreading wide around the base each time he dips to swallow it to the hilt. It's as if he was made for this, as if no amount of hard fucking could ever tire him out. He could do this all night, given the chance.
Vergil pulls out roughly, and pushes the boy forward. "Get up there and ride him."
The urge to defy the order tugs at Nero, but the thought of being filled with cock again is too good to resist, and he clambers up onto the couch with a petulant eye-roll as his only rebellion. Swinging his leg over the older man's thighs, Nero slips into position in Dante's lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and in moments he's sinking down onto that hard cock again, as easily as ever. How many times has he taken it like this? Must be in the dozens, now. But not usually with this much of an audience. Grinding and working his hips, Nero gives it everything he's got, determined to show Vergil just how good he is. He glances over his shoulder, just in time to catch the look of open disdain on the older man's face.
"What an attention whore." Vergil murmurs, but the hand steadily working over his cock belies his tone.
"Don't have to watch if you don't want to…" Nero's words are ragged with exertion, and he clings onto Dante's neck to steady himself with one hand as he rides harder and faster. The other hand slides down to grip his own cock again, and this time he touches himself briskly, fast and rough, just the way Dante likes. Putting on a show on both fronts is tiring, but the boy relishes the challenge and finds himself wondering which brother he'll finish off first. The thought makes him chuckle, loud enough that Dante raises an eyebrow.
"Having fun up there?"
"Yeah, it's not bad." Nero grins, working his cock faster now, watching the older man's eyes following the motion of his hand. "I've had worse."
"Little slut." Vergil's voice is suddenly close to Nero's ear, and he can feel the hard tip of the older man's cock brushing up against his already stretched ass. Realising what Vergil has in mind, the boy gives a little half-moaned yelp, and glances over his shoulder.
"Whoa, Vergil, what are you trying to do, break him?" Dante sounds concerned but aroused, and Nero has to wonder if he's exaggerating the concern in his voice.
"Oh, nonsense." The older brother laughs coldly. "If he's anything like you were at his age, he'll take two cocks easily and still beg for more."
"Do it." Nero demands, twisting around to hold Vergil's gaze. "I can take it, give it to me."
His bravado wears away slightly as Vergil's cock begins to force its way in beside Dante's, as the pain of it begins to match the pleasure, but he hangs onto the lust still burning inside him, focuses on the need to be fucked, even as he's being stretched to breaking point. The boy is panting and shaking by the time Vergil's cock is buried to the hilt beside his brother's, and he can't find the words to beg for what he needs. He stares down at Dante, clinging onto the older man's neck with both arms now, his eyes pleading helplessly for what he can't put into words.
"Come here." Dante's hand cups the back of his neck, pulling the boy down into a kiss, as his other hand slides down between them to take hold of Nero's cock. Between the tongue snaking hot and wet into his mouth, the fingers working expertly over his shaft, and the relentless pounding of those two cocks spreading and filling his ass, the boy feels as if he's falling apart, disintegrating into a million pieces under the waves of sensation. He moans helplessly into the kiss, feeling his climax building as if it’s happening to someone else, and his hips jerk and buck as if they have a mind of their own. It's too fast, it can't be over this soon, he can't finish this quickly, and yet the pleasure mounts unstoppably under the brothers' onslaught.
"I'm– I can't– It's–" He manages to gasp out as he breaks the kiss to come up for air, and then there are no more words inside him, just a long, low groan.
"Let go." Dante says, as if the boy has a choice, as the feeling overwhelms him. Yelping and moaning, Nero thrusts up into the older man's fist and tightens his muscles around the two shafts impaling him, letting the sensation drive him right over the edge. Pleasure explodes in the pit of his stomach, pain and satisfaction and hunger, all at once until he can't breathe anymore, and he finally sags forward against the older man's chest.
"Good boy, that's right." Dante's hand grips his waist now, sticky and hot with come, and the sound of the older man's groans seems a million miles away. Nero holds still, bracing himself against the back of the couch, as Dante thrusts up into him one last time and drenches his ass with come. Then all Nero can hear is the sound of Dante's breath, shallow and harsh, only slightly more ragged than his own.
"Impatient sluts, both of you…" Vergil groans, as if he's cursing them for the pleasure overwhelming him now, and pulls out sharply enough to make the boy wince in pain. Come spatters across Nero's back and buttocks, splashing heavy and hot against his skin, and he can feel it running in thick rivulets down across his flesh.
Nero winces again as Dante pulls out. The feeling of sudden emptiness makes him shudder and cling to the older man all the more; it's only reluctantly that the boy allows Dante to slip out from beneath him and stand up. Lying on his side, feeling like every ounce of energy has abruptly deserted him, all Nero can do is gaze up at the two older men and watch as they exchange cryptic glances. As soon as Vergil has straightened his clothes, he turns on his heel and heads for the back of the shop, not bothering to look at Dante as he talks.
"Come to the backroom once you've finished up here." He orders, and disappears through the door without even a word to Nero.
Dante gives a mocking salute to the empty doorway, and goes over to the fridge. The boy's mood brightens for a moment as he hopes that he's about to be offered something stronger than the usual to drink, but the can Dante throws at him is the same old soda as ever. He rests the can on his bare stomach, letting the cold metal chill his too-hot skin, and looks up at the older man expectantly.
"Take it easy and get some rest, kid." Dante just smiles, and gives the boy a brief wave as he heads to the backroom door. "I need to take care of some business."
