Devil May Cry (Dante Sparda/Vergil Sparda)
Jul. 1st, 2007 01:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestAuthor: Lucifer Hisaki (
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mercy_slays/luciferhisaki)Rating: R
Warnings: Incest, Implied Sex, Bondage
Word count: 350
Summary: "I won't let you run away from me this time."
"I won't let you run away from me this time"
He whispers it into his brother’s—his long lost brother, the one he thought died so long ago (twice actually)—ear, breathing into it lightly; nipping it lightly, tugging it between his teeth. His hands grazes over the bare chest, the bloody flesh ravished with cuts and bruises; cascading crimson crying from each wound. Vergil’s eyes are close but Dante’s was open. Very open.
Everything must be seen by him. It would be the only way he would believe.
This is real.
Vergil is in his arms.
Smirking just beneath the jaw line, Dante’ suckles slightly; Vergil pulls at the bindings, the handcuffs of diamond crystal (something a patron had paid for the labour and return of certain goods while the younger twin was on the job), trying to break himself free from his chains—wanting desperately to break free, to touch the flesh of his incestuous lover, his very own twin--, needing to be free of everything that held him down. Vergil
It was only “luck” that Vergil was there, cuffed loosely by leather bounds on a bedroom in Hell’s very own bedroom for its ruler, Mundus. Rage fuels Dante’s blood—and lust—when he spied his brother bound (yet, alive) in the very quarters of a Monster he thought dead. He clenches tightly on his twin’s arms and chest, holding him firmly against him; teeth bite down hard against the creamy alabaster neck of Vergil; blood flows into Dante’s accepting mouth.
Blood of the same blood drips like hard rain in April into the depths of Dante’s body; he feeds on it greedily before pulling away with a gasp, hips buckling against Vergil’s own nude form. Their arousals are spiked, rubbing, grinding; thrusting against each other with a fever of more need, more lust.
Vergil pulls at his binds; Dante roams with his hands.
"I won't let you run away from me this time," he whispers against Vergil’s flesh, “Not when I have you again. Never going to let you go, Verge. Never.
“You belong to me.
End?
