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God, Vergil is useless around the house. And that’s saying something if it comes from Dante.
If Dante wanted to be sympathetic, he’d have to acknowledge that Vergil probably hadn’t done a single chore since he was a teen, and the last time Dante had seen him do it was even further back ten years, when they approached housework like any other boy their age would. And maybe Dante needs to shoulder some of the blame too, far too eager to let his brother back into his home after that (accidental? He still hasn’t clarified) genocide of his that wiped out an entire city, reprising his performance with the Temen-ni-Gru with an even deadlier, shiny-spankin’ new record. Dante laid down no house rules but the (unspoken) promise that things wouldn’t be like how they were, and Dante thought that would be the only thing they needed.
And sure, if he wanted to be completely raw to the bone about it, maybe, just maybe, it was just a little bit adorable that Vergil, flawlessly precise, uptight Vergil, was a dithering goof when it came to being a normal person.
Dante’s had to clean up his own act a few times now. Once, when he met Trish, another, when he met Nero. And those two didn’t stick, not when they outgrew him. Vergil’s return was altogether a much stranger affair, and Dante couldn’t see himself sending Vergil off into the wild unknown once he got rid of all the socially undesirable gunk in his body. So he had tried to put on a responsible face, clean up the shit at DMC he left behind that he could blame on the destruction of Redgrave City.
But after that, it was all Vergil.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t like Dante could promise Vergil anything he used to want. Vergil had long abandoned those desires, or at least kept them very very secret from Dante through their errand in the underworld, though he really doubted Vergil was back to his old ways from how he took to Dante like they were kids again. Though it was decidedly not very childlike when they began fucking like rabbits.
Nowadays Vergil was driven by the same things Dante was: good food and good sex. Compared to his previous larger, more worldly ambitions, this was a more manageable Vergil.
Managing Vergil. Now that was a thought.
A thought that Dante gives more credence to every time Vergil leaves his smelly coat on the bed or when he doesn’t change out the empty roll of TP.
Oh, why the hell not.
It’s not like gentle reminders were getting through to Vergil, and there were some things that he direly needed to work on without Dante’s input, like his people skills that scared away service worker and client alike. Dante’s come across a mommy blog or two in the magazines he reads (though he must have mixed them up, for women when it should have been of) and he remembers from one of the columns a distraught wife’s cry for help about her good-for-nothing husband who couldn’t lift a single finger to help her with the house, or the kids. Now, Vergil and Dante had no kids together, but Vergil could for sure pull his weight around the house for the amount of rent he paid, which was nil.
Give your man incentive, the columnist had said. And incentive Dante did find.
All in all, he’s pretty proud of himself when he’s done with the chart.
- Do laundry for once = I won’t throw away your ratty coat
- Sweep the floor with normal household cleaning tools = a nice appreciative kiss and a slap on the ass
- Respond to clients without threatening them = I’ll take you out to a nice restaurant and order for you too*
- Go grocery shopping under a budget = a tug, or two if you don’t raze an aisle down in frustration
- Cook (yummy) dinner = BJ!
- 3 chores in a day = sexy time ;)
*Meal under $15 per person
It’s a shock that Vergil doesn’t stab him through the heart immediately upon being presented the chart. But he does pin one of Dante’s feet into the floor.
“This is demeaning,” he snaps. “I’m capable of tidying up after myself.”
“Vergil, I hear you and I see you,” Dante says as nicely as he can as he eases Yamato out of his foot, “but you haven’t exactly been amongst the company of humans in a while and I’m not sure you know how to operate most modern machines.” Dante barely caught on to them himself.
Vergil looks immensely frustrated, which unfortunately for him but very fortunately for Dante, Dante finds very cute. “This is completely unnecessary. I’ll do these tasks because I am a functioning adult and nothing more.”
“Doesn’t hurt to have a bit of incentive, though, does it?” Dante asks.
“I shouldn’t need…” A bubble of frustration pops at the end of Vergil’s sentence. Instead, he stabs Dante in the other foot. And he doesn’t just settle for that, as he also slices the paper into smithereens a paper-shredder would be envious of.
That, like Vergil’s coat and shoes and books, does Dante have to put away with a begrudging sigh.
A few days later, Dante comes home, hugs Vergil, and finds out he doesn’t smell underworld viscera on him.
He almost thinks nothing of it, until the next day he wakes up to the smoky aroma of eggs and bacon, and before he even eats a solid bite of what was once food he’s already sucked off Vergil in the kitchen.
In a few weeks, Devil May Cry has undergone a drastic transformation. Dante won’t discredit Vergil, but he truly has to give kudos to himself for carrying the bulk of the work. He’s doing two jobs, his own chores, and having to wank or suck or fuck his brother for his part. Not that he actually minds or cares.
This change has not gone unnoticed outside their own domestic bubble.
“Damn, Vergil cleans up good,” Nero says, as if it was an impossibility that Dante could have done any of this good. Brat. “How’d he manage to do all of this?” He plops on the couch.
Dante fondly reminisces about how just two hours ago Vergil sat right there as Dante, the forty-something year old man that he was, had to gyrate his bare pussy against Vergil’s covered erection, forced to play sex for his sick weird freaky humiliation kink.
He smiles enigmatically. As much as he’s been open with Nero after kindly informing him about his father’s true identity, there are some boundaries that even he won’t cross. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Nero gives him a scathing look, but his pause is expectant and curious.
“...Yes, I would?”
“Well, I told him if he doesn’t pull his weight he’s out on the streets.”
The eyebrow already raised on Nero’s forehead steps a rung higher. You’d never throw him out.
I wouldn’t. Darn Nero. He’s smarter than Dante gives him credit for.
“You got me. I’m just too charming. I’ve got your dad wrapped around my finger.”
“Ha ha, very funny. Fine, tell me, don’t tell me, what do I care,” Nero says.
Thank whoever was up there that Nero didn’t push this more than the last time he wanted to get information out of Dante.
“Hey, now’s the time if you’re wanting to make any special requests. Got anything for your dad, kid?”
“Fuck you, dick, I’m not a kid,” Nero scowls. “I was just asking, ‘cause I’ve never seen Vergil so well-behaved. I don’t need anything.”
You’d think Nero would have grown out of that teenage angst being, what, mid-twenties? Then again, his dad was just as angsty with twenty years ahead of him.
“Especially not from him,” Nero mutters.
Too defensive for it to be true.
“Sure, sure,” Dante resigns. Inside his wicked mind, however, is a different story.
That kid wore his heart on his sleeve and always denied it was there. He was just like his dad, so Dante knew when he asked Vergil if he ever regretted how he left things with Nero, he denied it in the same way Nero had.
Now Dante was never the most ideal uncle, but no one could say that he wasn’t ever there for Nero. Sure, he might have given him a good ribbing (beating), but that was all in jest. And Dante’s not an idiot. He knows how Nero looks at him. Like the father he never had, and in the years that they worked and travelled together, fulfilling those worldly dreams his church never allowed him to, he always looked to Dante with a bit of hope that he might be ready to disclose some big secret, tried to prove himself strong and worthy enough for Dante to trust.
Well, sorry, kid, I was never your daddy. You got saddled with this other guy.
All Dante could do was nudge this conciliatory prize in the right direction, but at the end of the day, it was up to Vergil to decide if he wanted to do anything about it.
Dante decides to throw Nero a bone. He adds a new row to the chart.
- Spend time with Nero = home run!!
When Vergil comes back from the supermarket, it doesn’t even take him two minutes for him to see the new addition.
“This is humiliating enough,” Vergil says, while Dante palms his fully erect cock inside his pants, spreading the fluid off his leaky tip and redistributing it all over for that easy, reliable smooth, “and it does not even constitute a chore.”
“It’s a chore for you,” Dante says. He’s torn between speaking his piece and feeding Vergil’s musky cock into his mouth.
“And you think Nero would appreciate knowing the time he spends with his father was bought with his uncle’s mouth?”
“I’ll give him the safe-for-work rundown,” Dante says. “Tell him I won you over with my sweet tongue,” he dips his head and slurps over Vergil’s mushroom tip, feeling it explode over his tastebuds.
Vergil grips Dante’s hair hard enough that the Pavlov’s dog in him is salivating. “You’re a wretch.”
“Mhm,” Dante moans. “You really like me though.”
Vergil mutters something that Dante doesn’t hear and he pulls his head further down his cock. Dante takes it deep in his mouth as easy as pie. He swallows his throat around the tip and Vergil’s head tosses back.
“What would he and I even do?”
“Mmmm.” Even of his own volition, Dante struggles to pull himself off. “Play catch?” Dante slaps the head of Vergil’s dick on his tongue.
“Ngh–he’s not a child,” Vergil grunts. Is that defensiveness Dante hears?
“Camping, a road trip…” Dante catches the look in Vergil’s face, seeing fear in that previously fearless face at the prospect of an overnight activity. “What about fishing?”
“I’ve never fished in my life.”
“You’re in luck, because I’m sure Nero’s gone fishing at least twice, so he’ll show you the ropes. Usually it’s the dad teaching his kid the ways of life, but we aren’t exactly conventional.”
Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say, because Vergil looks just a little bit forlorn.
“I think Nero’d really appreciate it,” Dante says. “I heard he and V had a good thing going on when I was out of commission.”
“It was nothing to write home about. We were professional collaborators.”
“That’s not what he told me.”
Vergil looks at him from the periphery of his eye which means he’s curious but doesn’t want to denigrate himself by begging for answers.
“Look, you don’t have to be a father immediately. I don’t even think Nero would want that. Just treat him how you did before, rather than be another ghost.”
Vergil’s face pinches up.
“Pleeease.” Wet newborn puppy dog eyes. “Sex.”
“You wouldn’t let me… otherwise?” They've been talking for so long, it looks mildly threatening the way Dante is leaving Vergil's cock alone.
Dante kisses it for reassurance. "Let’s not go that far. But I’ll make it special for you if you do,” he promises.
“Hrn,” Vergil says, one of his new old-man noises Dante has recently discovered, and which means I’ll think about it.
Meanwhile, Dante starts brainstorming for ideas on how to make it special… how indeed, considering they’ve already touched all bases and explored each other’s bodies, inside and out, and they do mean inside as in organs and bones and nerves and all.
But really, Dante thought that Vergil just needed an excuse to take that leap of faith with Nero.
Day comes, and much as Dante wants to join, he knows both Nero and Vergil would abuse him as a mediator. Nope, they’d have to tough it out together.
In the meantime, Dante starts working on Vergil’s very special surprise.
Vergil returns when Dante’s mid-power nap, and he only wakes up when the shower head’s already on and running. Thankfully Dante’s still slightly clothed, not wanting to give away the fruits of his labor. Vergil’s showers are always blunt and to the point, so when he comes out Dante’s still lounging around like the house cat he was born to be. He at least watches Vergil towel off his hair and lets his eyes grope away at Vergil’s height and face and muscles that Dante can’t decide if he should be envious of or horny for. These small pleasures of life; Dante can’t bear to lose them again.
“How did it go?”
“I don’t know,” Vergil answers, and in that he’s hopelessly honest. “It was fine.”
Seeing as Vergil came home without a hair out of place and no bruises, scars, wounds, Dante guesses he can attest to that. “What did you two end up doing?” he asks, petting the bed next to him. Vergil takes the bait.
“We went… fishing.”
No way. Seriously? Dante laughs. “I just pulled that out of my ass!”
Vergil glares at him. “Well, I took the suggestion seriously. Nero rented a boat and we took it out to sea.”
Dante nods and rubs Vergil’s back. “Go on.”
“He attempted to teach me how to reel in a fish.”
“Okay, did you?”
“I caught one, yes,” Vergil admits.
“Yeah? Wow, good job.”
“I saw a swordfish in the water…”
Dante stops stroking. “A swordfish?”
Vergil nods too. A thin smile grazes his lips. “Fast, but nowhere near as fast as me.”
Dante is aghast, mostly because he’s never thought to do that before and this makes Vergil so much cooler than the square Dante assumed he was. “Did you bring it home?”
“Nero had me throw it back before I could kill it,” Vergil says. “But he took a picture of me with it. It’s on his phone.”
Dante scrambles to pull out his old fourth-hand, a monolith slab thing, and shoots off a text to Nero, but the picture’s already been sent to the group chat. Dante opens it up to see a selfie of Nero and Vergil, Vergil still blue and scaly and glow coming off his Devil Trigger, holding up the swordfish by the neck of its caudal fin, squinting with a grimace-smile on his face as the sunlight bounces off his pale skin and hair. Nero has an arm around Vergil’s shoulder but still with a foot’s distance between them, sharing that same awkward smile.
“What the hell, that’s massive!” Dante gawks.
“Nero took quite a few photos.” Dante swipes to the next image. Nero holds up a big red and grey fish like a baby, showing it off to the camera. The next catch is a bluefin tuna, bigger than both their previous catches, so big that both Vergil and Nero stand side by side holding each end of the fish. Both of them are blue. Nero’s hair is long and framed by his horns.
“You’re sleeping on the couch if you didn’t bring that gorgeous baby home with you.”
“It was Nero’s catch, so he brought it back home to share.” Okay, well Dante can’t really hold a grudge against a young woman and a gaggle of orphaned children now, can he.
“You’re a good dad, you know that?” Dante blurts out.
Vergil makes a small, neutral noise. Like he doesn’t really believe it, but doesn’t want to start an argument.
“You had fun, didn’t you.”
“It was enjoyable,” Vergil agrees.
“And Nero had fun too, I’m guessing.” There was no way around that dazzling smile, holding up that tuna with Vergil.
Like before, Vergil just hums.
There’s really was no way around it. There’s something about Vergil being good with his kid that makes Dante feel wet under the belt. Something about being a reliable and dependable figure, maybe, but neither Dante or Nero needed someone to swoop in and take care of them. It’s nothing if not the opposite way around. Vergil needs them.
Dante should hate how easy he is.
“Well, since you didn’t bring anything home, we’ll just have to get takeout for dinner,” Dante stands up, making a big show out of stretching in that tight shirt of his. In actuality, he’s more able to stave off his hunger than he is his arousal.
Vergil, so predictably, pulls Dante in by the wrist in a bruising cuff. “Nero’s woman gave us enough for dinner and several dinners after,” he says.
“That’s great,” Dante says. “Let’s throw it in the microwave.”
Vergil yanks him down and Dante takes it in stride, matching Vergil’s force with his, even if it’s more urgent and desperate than he expected. A giggle bursts through Dante’s chest. Was he that excited for his reward? They both know Dante would have, as the kids say, let him hit.
He slides his hands along Vergil’s torso, copping a good, lecherous feel of his unfair abs and pinched waist and firm chest all so unbefitting of a middle-aged man before his focus sinks to the pièce de résistance.
“I told Nero I’ve got you wrapped around my finger,” Dante whispers, “but it’s more like I’ve got you by the dick, right?” He cups it tenderly, kindly, with sympathy.
“Be qui-ugh,” Vergil groans, as Dante pulls his hand up to the fat head of his dick and twists his wrist around, expertly milking off the tip.
But Vergil didn’t spend time with his estranged adult son just to touch third base. His arms snake around Dante’s waist, pulling him in completely to rut together, following a slow, throbbing rhythm.
“Not today,” Dante whines. He slaps Vergil away, tries to get up. Vergil holds him by the holes of his jeans to drag him back. He tugs them down and Dante almost trips over his pants in the process to turn around and show Vergil what he’s been working on before he came back.
“Dante–”
“Not after I’ve put all this effort into this, huh?” Dante says, holding an asscheek for Vergil to take a gander worthy of satiating his appetite at his sloppy hole. Dante knows damn well how good his guts look to fuck, trained it wide and sturdy in the mirror while he was curled up like a shrimp. He’d drilled four fingers in there. Perfectly capable of taking Vergil.
“Of course not,” Vergil answers distantly. But he’s far from disinterested when he takes over hold of Dante’s ass, spreads it open to look at the way his red asshole twitches after being recently plunged and gaped. Dante’s wet too, lips glossy with pre-cum lipstick, didn’t bother wiping it away before Vergil came back, since he loves knowing just how much Dante feels it.
“Can’t have you making more Neros,” Dante says. Vergil pauses, before he sticks a knuckly finger into Dante. “Ngh!” It always feels deeper in his ass than his cunt, and just the length of a finger in it is the approximate equivalent to Vergil’s cock in his pussy. Dante gets progressively wetter.
“So that’s what makes it special,” Vergil muses. “Your efforts are not unnoticed.” Which is the closest thing Dante’s ever gotten to a thanks.
He unceremoniously digs into Dante’s asshole, three fingers at once, and upon finding it accommodates him so easily doesn’t spare a second to thrust his pinky in as well. His thumb runs along Dante’s labia, smearing that obvious slick all over before it pops in too and makes Dante feel like an overstuffed bowling ball.
The way Vergil can relay affection to both holes makes neither of them jealous. The thumb in Dante’s pussy is purposeful, seeking, and it rubs all over Dante inside that he feels as open and slick as his asshole in seconds.
“Did you have fun all by yourself when I was out with your nephew?” Vergil asks, pinching and kneading the delineation between hole and pussy.
“Better now with you here,” Dante says breathlessly. It’s the right thing to say, and he follows up with a straightforward “fuck me.” Vergil doesn’t bother to continue that sexual tug-of-war. He extracts his fingers and slaps his cock a few courteous times on Dante’s messy asshole before he sinks in. “Hah, fuck, that’s good—“
Vergil groans, slacking around Dante, soaked in a sauna heat that relaxes all his muscles from his hard day out in the sun and the sea. In Dante’s ass, it slides in all the way, and it chokes out whatever he had planned to say, whatever witty remark or teasing jab or attempt at seduction, though Vergil was already inside so that was all just fluff and toppings to get Vergil riled up.
Now, Dante couldn’t possibly make Vergil do all the work, not after he behaved so well today, so he bears his weight down on Vergil, that thick ass of his trying to smear Vergil’s pelvis into a paste. Vergil embraces him in a desperate way that he’ll never admit to, and Dante moans for the both of them, each prayer and mantra for Vergil lubricating their fucking more frenzied and guttural.
“Vergil, baby,” Dante sighs, and Vergil takes him more onto his lap. “Your dick feels so good, fuck.” Dante has to plant his feet into the mattress, holding onto Vergil’s thighs while he gyrates slutty, unfocused circles onto him. Dante swears he can feel it all up in his guts, like he says so every other time they do it, but it bears repeating when Vergil does rile up something in him that no one else can and in a different way each time. This time it’s probably because Vergil looks so good with a large fish in his hands and his kid by his side, playing the part of a good papa. Dante never thought he’d get to see Vergil like this, not when he found out he had a son, not when he found out Vergil was alive again, not even when their life went back to how it should have always been, Vergil, with him, forever.
Vergil kisses his shoulder blades from behind, bites him when he gets nippy and snacky, and Dante laughs with it. His brother's feeling lonely, Dante knows, when he starts to bite and fondle all over like a food-insecure animal. Dante supplies a generous helping of breasts to squeeze and wring, even twisting his chest to the side and letting Vergil suckle on it. This he won’t tease Vergil about, not when it fulfills that empty chasm in his chest to see Vergil reduced to his most basic acts.
Never slipping up on his personal standards of being a good lover, Vergil’s hand dives down to Dante’s groin and feels it up all over again. “Vergil,” Dante gasps, and he keeps on gasping for air when Vergil strokes his little cock between his fingers like how he does it for himself, only rougher because it’s Vergil and he just loves to put Dante through the ringer. Under Vergil’s control, he makes Dante cum when he wants to, and that moment is now when Dante takes a sharp turn into a brutal blow of an orgasm, barely uttering out “cumming–” as he jerks and creams on Vergil’s fingers, hearing in the hollow ring of his ears that nasty squelching, too far away and too far gone to do anything about it. He collapses on the bed. His brother’s cock is the only thing that keeps him grounded, Dante’s ass clutching it like a lifebuoy.
Soon after, Vergil groans and jerks to a stop inside and out of Dante. There, there, Dante goes to say, but his voice has lost all its strength. He feels it drip out, disgusting and perfect.
Vergil’s fingers work backward, past Dante’s fat clit, and he scoops up the foamy jizz he left behind to smear it one broad paint-stroke across Dante’s cunt.
Dante feels dizzier. “Careful, buddy,” he croaks, “oh–” Vergil rubs it against the underside of his clit, persuasive fingers striking up a convincing argument for cumming again under such short notice.
Vergil toys with his folds, one finger at a time.
“Don’t get it inside,” Dante grunts.
“No more little Neros?” Vergil murmurs.
“No more–” but being in the moment and having Vergil be so overwhelming all around him is turning Dante strange and foreign to his own body.
They had been going at it like dogs, but this is the first time he’s ever acknowledged even the possibility.
Neros. Neroettes? Nerolings??
“Why not?” Vergil’s finger is in a very dangerous position right now. “You want a big happy family.”
When have I ever said that?
Vergil’s palm cups Dante’s mound, warming it, keeping the obscene fire stoked. His middle finger dips a little bit inside.
I want a big happy family.
“Fuck, Vergil,” Dante moans, when Vergil swirls it there, like his daily cup of coffee. “You being for real right now, or are you breaking my heart–”
“I’m serious, Dante.” Vergil’s voice is brittle. He’s playing it up for him, or maybe he’s really that affected. “More Neros.”
“Really?” Dante giggles. This is so stupid. So outlandish. He can’t believe either of them right now.
“You’d be a good daddy,” he says instead. “The best.”
He cries when Vergil fucks him as a reward, crooked fingers in his best simulacrum for his cock, even though they’re even better when they know their purpose in Dante’s cunt, can find those sparking spots inside like pigs finding truffles.
“You’ll reward me when I take care of them, won’t you?”
Dante knew his brother was horrible, a huge dick, but this is a whole new level of cruel. Keeping Dante on his dick like a breeding mount. Popping out child after child. And at the end of it, the reward was keeping Dante impaled more.
“I will, I will,” he whimpers. “I’ll take care of you, you deserve it, baby, daddy–”
Vergil kisses his neck first, then his ear, then pinches Dante’s chin towards him and kisses him deep on the lips. He slips out the back, and another torrent of warm creampie drips out. Dante lets it collect and Vergil fucks it back into his cunt.
“You too.”
Dante doesn’t need to ask Nero how it went for him on his end.
> Old man still needs some help getting reacquainted to human society?
“Hey, Nero wants to know when you’re down to hang again,” Dante says. They’re fucking again, for the sake of it this time and for the love of the game. Vergil’s lost in his cunt. “Or do you need another reward, daddy?”
“Shut up."