Chapter Text
Any expectations Dante could have had for this “Order” shit Kat seemed to be invested in were… low. Non-existent. What kind of idea was it? ‘Defeating the demons.’ Ridiculous. Impossible. The demons were an infestation. An infection that had been festering in Limbo since it was seeded, probably. Since the angels stopped giving a shit about fighting them, if they ever did fight them. If they ever existed in the first place. Demons were in the roots of the city, there was no gutting precise enough to cut them away without pulling up Limbo itself.
So no, Dante wouldn’t bet his money on it; not to say Dante had money in the first place.
The lack of profitable gambling didn’t stop Dante from following Kat’s lead. No matter the legitimacy of her group, a debt is a debt and this one had a currency Dante could afford: a moment of his time. God knows Dante had time in excess. Plus, there was the nagging factor that she was unique, as a person. Nothing had ever been comparable to Dante, except demons. To find someone relatable was - well, Dante wasn’t too good at expressing the value of company and that sappy shit, but he grasped that that meant something. Emphasized by the fact that Dante could actually stand her presence. Rarely did Dante bother paying attention to what anyone had to say, but Kat was obviously more genuine than any lobotomized bar crowd.
They trekked through the dingy halls of what could easily have been mistaken for some skater-pothead hangout. The building was unassuming and as vandalized as the rest of Limbo. It surely didn’t read like any sort of ‘order’ may be tucked away inside. But mostly Dante stared at Kat’s ass and listened to her explain more about their regime while he offered only unhelpful doubt.
Of course, that slowed considerably as they pushed into a new room. It was more vast than the hallways and rooms Dante had glimpsed - more like this one was in the sewers. Were they in the sewers? Dammit, Dante had been serious about trying not to wind up in the them anymore.
But the space was surprisingly well-kempt. The ceiling was vaulted, pillars along the walls. The whole space had been rigged with equipment and tech. Black computer screens panelled the wall in the center like their own black hole of information. Dante didn’t want to get too close. It was goddamn dark too and no one seemed to think turning on the light was a good idea. Not Kat and not the guy standing several yards away, drenched in shadows as opaque as black paint, only the light cast along his side and shoulders exposed him at all, showing the cane he held clasped in his hands. This was the person Dante was important to? Dante stepped into the faint, dull sunlight that slanted through a window high up on the far wall, motes of dust dancing around him like fairies.
From the austere posture to the cane in his hands, Dante could already tell that the guy was going to be a pain in the ass. Anyone who headed up an organization, let alone one called ‘The Order,’ and dressed that stiff was at least half a tool. That’s what Dante’s first impression was, anyway.
From where he stood across from the other male, a prickling sensation thickened in the air around Dante. It felt like magick oozed from some reserve deep beneath Dante’s feet and sunk into his circulation system -
Scratch that. Not from beneath him, from him. The man. It formed a straight line between him and the shadowed man. The familiarity of the sensation was uncanny. Reminiscent of…
No, that’d be fucked up. Right?
“Amazing,” the man said almost breathlessly, “Dante, it really is you.” Silence spanned between them in Dante’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge the guy’s statements unless they actually meant something. Hypocritical or not, until then: he didn’t care. Guys like this one were used to being revered on sight. Dante glanced around the cave and back, face flat and bored to reflect his impression of the situation. “You don’t remember me?” It was a real question.
“No,” Dante answered lamely as he noticed the mask behind him to his right. The iconic mask from the Order videos on the news.
The two of them summarized their angsty childhood stories, not like friends reminiscing but like the missed connections tab of Craigslist. The man’s conversation isn’t long-winded, but it’s still pointless. Clipped sentences and vague statements that were a drag on Dante’s attention span. He wanted the guy to say what he had to say and say it straight.
Then the guy finally did say something interesting. Something damning.
He told Dante what he already knew: that he isn’t human. Instinct made Dante glance to Kat, thinking she had told her ‘boss’ about him, but knew she didn’t when he caught the look on her face. Suddenly Dante was more ready to listen, if it concerned his… whatever he is. But what ruined everything - Dante’s sudden readiness to cooperate with the shadowed man’s little show and hear him out - was when Kat’s employer stepped out of the shadows -
Dante scoffed, nearly spit at his feet. “What the fuck is this?” Dante said scathingly as he came face to face with Vergil, who closed the gap between them in a few quick strides.
All at once Dante remembered full force the time he had spent with the stranger from the bar, Vergil. It had been a test of boundaries, of how far Dante had been willing to go out of his usual forté for the promise of that weird, enticing energy that Dante felt roping him into the stranger that night. Turned out pretty far. Dante was used to women. Girls that were pretty and not too inebriated - or at least equally as inebriated as himself - and eager for him, used to bringing them back to his trailer so that he could go to sleep afterward and watch their asses when they slipped out with a kink in their step early morning, used to topping. And then Vergil: suave, slightly creepy in the way he’d stared at Dante, and fucking electrifying had approached him. Flipped all Dante’s shit on the ground so that he had to escape a fucking luxury building in the dead of night and use the experience as jack-off fodder for the next two weeks. Dante hadn’t even used his healing to soothe the way his ass had felt after.
Yeah. It was Vergil, from his feet to the stupid hat on his head.
And what-the-fuck now? Was that night a ploy to soften Dante up before -
Dante still didn’t know why he was there.
“All war is fought with deception - “ intoned Vergil.
Dante’s face contorted at the irony and interjected, “It’s been awhile since I’ve been this fuckin’ pissed, y’know - ”
There’s no waver as Vergil picked up where he left off, eyeing Dante exactly like he had that night. It sent a shiver down Dante’s spine that aggravated himself, “ - and you have been deceived. Your past has been hidden from you for a reason.”
“Rewind a bit - who are you again?” Dante hurled in the face of what they both know, met Vergil's piercing glance, and then vengefully, “Is your name actually Vergil or was that just some dead name for the night?”
Kat shifted awkwardly in the shadows away from them, probably wondering if and how they knew each other.
“My name is Vergil,” he assured in a lower but firm tone, as if trying to burn the fact into Dante’s mind. As if it could survive the acidic indignation apparent on Dante’s face. It was as though Vergil could sense everything Dante wanted to hear and decided to say everything but. He detailed The Order with flamboyant gestures and a projected voice that sounded more fake than Vergil likely thought. Dante made a point to nitpick Vergil’s statements with an overtly derogatory bias and glared daggers into him. Right up until the real reason Dante’s there was finally spoken out loud.
“So that’s what this is about. You want me to fight the demons, help you save the world,” Dante replied flatly with a shake of his head. Apparently, one measly fuck isn’t enough to get an accurate idea of what motivates a person. The disinterest Dante felt must have emanated noticeably from him. Vergil perceived that, approached, and stopped a foot from Dante.
Last time they were this close, they kissed.
“What else were you planning on doing with your life?”
People spoke pretty blunt to Dante, in his experience. Usually because Dante looked like burn-out trailer trash and they - ‘they’ varied from businessmen to actual trailer trash - saw themselves as somehow superior. Which, whatever, Dante had other shit to care about rather than someone’s petty fucking ego. Namely his own. But Vergil’s statement, it was direct in a way like no one else had ever quite been. It’s like the edge of a blade, so finely sharpened that it slipped into Dante’s body rather than razed or sheared. There was a distinct lack of violence in its substance - which was enough to set Dante on edge in itself - and was cold and merciless as it cut smoothly into his core.
Vergil cocked his head to the side and nodded to Kat. She sized Dante and Vergil’s circumstances up and mumbled about sigil books or something. Her footsteps scuffed lightly against the floor. The door on the opposite side of the room shut duly and the two of them were alone.
Resentment turned over in his stomach, motivating Dante to speak first, “So why’d you do it? To use me? Think I’d play into your little game easier because we had a one-off?”
Vergil tilted his chin up because yeah, of course he does, and said, “I didn’t use you, Dante.” Annoyingly, there was no denying the intensity that was strung between them. Meeting Vergil’s similarly blue eyes only emphasized it, “I took you to bed because you are… interesting, and enticing,” Dante could make out the click of Vergil’s tongue with each adjective and inhaled slowly, “and important. I’m attracted to you so I figured - hey, if you’re into it, why not?” The slightest smile curved onto Vergil’s lips and Dante… Dante wasn’t as annoyed, he guessed. “And wow, you delivered,” Vergil finished in a sly, quick tone. The innuendo was plain, the challenge moreso.
Dante felt chagrin scratch in his mind at the words, but declared revenge in its place. The correlating hitch in his arousal was neither modest nor tentative and seeped into the other emotions like a diluent.
Both Vergil and Dante broke the bog of tension, each moved in like the ends of cudgels that clear the air. Maybe Vergil was more of a rapier, in that respect. ‘Refined.’ What a prick.
Their kiss had none of the intimate build-up of that night, it was fraught with a rushed determination. Where desperation and lust had been at the core, impulsivity and haught revenge coursed and burned at every one of Dante’s synapses. There would be no meticulous wringing of need and sensation and Dante was grateful for that because he wasn’t looking for a fantasy fuck, he was looking to make that asshole, Vergil, have a little humility. And, okay, maybe get half a lay in the process.
Vergil tried to gingerly lead Dante back to the tables strewn with boxes and devices and plans, as if Dante wouldn’t notice. With a snort, Dante shoved back at Vergil, not content to let the man move and arrange him as easily as he had all those weeks ago. There would be no pliant turning over from Dante, that had been a fluke. After all, Dante was a self-made demon slaughterhouse. A sleeping tiger when he wasn’t fighting said demons, but a tiger nonetheless and one that would not be leashed and collared. Not by Vergil’s seduction, regardless of what Vergil could say. Even if Vergil could convince him to help.
Dante reared his head back and away from their kiss, teeth showing as he spoke up, “Don’t think that this is a thing.”
Vergil huffed a vague laugh and leaned in again, “Such a solivagant. Don’t worry.” The agreement was not transparent. Dante could sense a hidden tone of… something. Also pretentiousness. Lots.
Instead of a retort, Dante hissed as Vergil pushed his hips into Dante’s, grinding their crotches together. Vergil’s mint-scented breath ghosted over Dante’s neck as he leaned down and suckled a patch of skin rose red beneath Dante’s jawline, simultaneously removing his hat and setting it aside.
The ministrations of Vergil’s lips against Dante’s neck were nice. He flinched and gave a light groan when he felt Vergil’s teeth graze against the teased sensitive skin next. Then Dante remembered what he really wanted.
One hand dug into Vergil’s shoulder, making space between the two of them and then pushed hard enough to send him to his knees in front of Dante. There was a moment of surprise that flickered visibly over Vergil’s regal features. One eyebrow arched high and inquisitive as he looked up at Dante, Vergil's expression meticulously withheld a smile.
“My turn,” Dante said haughtily. Going beltless made it an easy chore for Dante to shove his pants down, Vergil’s hands on each thigh to tug the fabric.
“Really?” Vergil huffed with an inkling of amusement as he came eye-level with Dante’s semi-hard erection.
Dante shrugged, “Commando's easy. “ Enough time had been wasted so Dante carded one hand into Vergil’s carefully styled and professional white hair, pulling his head closer. Vergil seemed aggravatingly unphased but Dante could get over it since Vergil complied and took the base of his cock in one hand.
Several diligent strokes brought Dante to full hardness. The fabric of his gloves were silky rather than a drag on the soft skin of his cock as he ghosted warm breath over Dante, adding to the existing pool of heat that simmered low in Dante’s gut.
Opening his mouth to bark some unnecessary command for commands sake, Dante was cut short when Vergil tipped his head in and licked a stripe along the side of his cock. The soft wetness was heavenly against Dante’s length and he twisted his hand into a fist in Vergil’s hair. The breath of Vergil’s resounding laugh made the drying spit on Dante’s cock go cold and sent a shiver prickling up his spine.
“Don’t pull the hair, please. You’ve made a mess of it enough,” Vergil spoke with his lips against the side of his cock still so he could feel the words as well as hear them. Dante dug his teeth into his bottom lip with the ghost of a ‘fuck’ whisping off them. He tightened his grip in Vergil’s hair just enough to tease that he might pull anyways, but didn’t. Part of him knew well enough not to ruin the momentum.
That was the right move because the next second Vergil was twisting his hand around the base of Dante’s cock, the smooth turn of his gloves fabric against the skin making the most pleasurable friction Dante hadn’t imagined. Followed up by the sight of Dante’s cock vanishing into the moist warmth of Vergil’s mouth. Dante swore he could have gotten off right there. But despite the image so carefully preened, he wasn’t a teenager.
Dante savored the moment with a low groan. Head tilted back, Dante canted his hips forward instinctively, semi-uncaring of Vergil’s position. They were playing a game of power here, after all. From his point of view, Dante was winning. Despite the way Vergil clawed his hand into Dante’s hips dangerously close to the border between playful and harmful. Scolding. Vergil pulled his head back and laved his tongue over the head of Dante’s cock like he was promising what more he could do.
Fuck, did Dante want more.
A heavy, shuddering breath wracked Dante’s chest like the epicenter of an earthquake. Like he was a continent, splitting apart. All at the whim of Vergil’s destructive, addictive mouth. Soft, flower petal lips.
Shit, was Dante winning?
In their positions, it was now Vergil fully illuminated on his knees. Dante cast in darkness. He almost got caught up in the regal lines of Vergil’s face, so handsome. That is before Vergil suddenly slipped Dante’s cock back into the wet heat of his mouth, sucking even cock with grace as he hollowed his cheeks. The suction had Dante gasping aloud and bucking forward even as Vergil’s nose met the coarse hair surrounding his dick. He could feel himself twitch, his body following along to chase the promise of orgasm. They worked in tandem then. Vergil gagged on Dante’s length, unable to say anything about the hand now tightly gripping the hair atop Vergil’s head. Holding a firm pressure on the bobbing of Vergil’s head as if to say please -- please, don’t stop.
“Shit, Verg - I’m coming --” Hot iron twine unspools from deep in Dante’s gut as he held himself steady. The feeling of Vergil’s throat tensing and swallowing around him as he emptied himself was almost too much and entirely satisfying.