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“If you don’t stop pacin’,” Dante grunted, looking up from his magazine. Vergil returned his glare, as if a challenge, but Dante was unperturbed. “One a’ two things are gonna happen. Probably one after the other. Firstly, you’re gonna put a damn rut in my floor. Then? I’m gonna tie you to a fuckin’ chair.”
Vergil seemed to bow up, tense and bristle at the notion. He huffed, and then returned to his almost anxious fidgeting, pacing about like a tiger in a cage, except the cage was Dante’s office.
“What’s got your panties in a wad?” Dante sighed, bringing his feet down off the desk and leveling his brother with a look that approached worry. “You look like you’re ready to bust.”
“We haven’t taken a job in several days,” Vergil said, arms crossed over his chest.
Dante raised an eyebrow at him, and when he didn’t seem suitably upset, Vergil huffed, throwing his hands up.
“If we’re not working, what are we meant to do?”
“Relax?”
“Yes, this is such a peaceful place,” Vergil sneered, eying their surroundings. Dante couldn’t deny that it hadn’t always been this clean, actually. He felt a teensy bit guilty, in all truth. Vergil had been showing signs of restlessness for a while now, and Dante had subtly taken advantage of that, letting Vergil vent his excess energy on cleaning what needed to be cleaned in the shop, tidying what needed to be tidied, and throwing out bag after bag of trash and refuse.
Now, though?
The shop was much more tidy and thus, Vergil had nothing to do, no place to dump that excess, nervous energy. And it was driving Dante batty to watch him.
“Look, more jobs will come through that door again,” Dante sighed, going to stand up. “And they’ll come waltzin’ in here, so fast, and so hard, you’re gonna wish they bought ya dinner first. So, for now, just .. enjoy having a little down-time?”
“I suppose I could train,” Vergil murmured, moving his hands to his hips, pondering.
Dante groaned, long and loud, letting his head fall back in frustration. Vergil scowled at him.
“What?”
“Down-time is not ‘find something to do’ time! It’s time to literally do nothing,” Dante sighed, exasperated.
“Sounds slovenly and juvenile, so I suppose I’m not surprised you’d come up with it,” Vergil grumbled, his lip curling. Dante huffed, rubbing his face.
“Okay, fine,” Dante huffed. “A deal? I propose a wager.”
Vergil looked at his brother, suspicion clear in his shrewd and narrowed eyes.
“What are the terms?”
Leveraging his brother’s natural competitive streak, especially when it came to him, Dante forged ahead.
“Just do as I say?” Dante said, putting his hands together. “For a day? If you really hate it, if it makes you wanna scrub your skin off, tomorrow, if we don’t have jobs, we can train until our fuckin’ arms fall off. Deal?”
Vergil considered it, clearly weighing things. He got this particular look on his face, a kind of calculating look that reminded Dante so much of a cat watching a mouse.
“Very well,” Vergil said, a little stiffly, while Dante relaxed, victorious. “Though it seems .. asinine to give a tutorial on how to be lazy?”
“Just trust me,” Dante said, shaking his head. “First thing’s first: you need to change.”
“I’ve been trying,” Vergil growled, clearly frustrated, his pitch ratcheting up a tone ever-so slightly.
Dante blinked.
“ .. Your clothes, dumbass!”
~*~
“What are you wearing?”
Dante sighed, seeing his brother come down the stairs, wearing black denim and a high-necked shirt, his arms exposed.
“Clothes?” Vergil asked, frowning deeply.
“We’re tryna relax, not land a manager position at the Cheesecake Factory,” Dante scoffed, getting up off the couch. He had also changed, out of his usual clothes and into a pair of loose gym shorts and a hockey jersey that definitely was never actually worn during a game. He put his hands on Vergil’s back, pushing him back up the stairs. “Come on! I gotta do everythin’ in this house!”
~*~
“There!” Dante huffed, leaning back, admiring his handiwork.
Vergil looked at himself in a mirror, confused and showing as much on his face.
Dante had fished out some clothes from his own dresser, a pair of joggers and an over-large shirt that hung off of one of his brother’s far-leaner shoulders. He wouldn’t deny it if asked, but there was something tantalizing about dressing Vergil in his own clothes. It was probably some demon shit, really. His clothes of course smelled like him. Vergil smelled like Vergil. Vergil wearing Dante’s clothes, made Vergil smell like Dante.
“I thought you wanted me to wear something with some purpose?” Vergil said, frowning. “Now it just seems as if I’m dressed for bed?”
“Exactly,” Dante said, pointing. “Relax! That’s what you oughta do!”
Vergil sighed, clearly still not quite buying it.
“Now, come on,” Dante huffed, grabbing the comforter off the bed and bundling it under one arm. “To the couch.”
~*~
Vergil had followed Dante downstairs, sat beside him on the threadbare, careworn couch in front of his ancient TV set. Dante flopped, whereas Vergil sat. Seeing his brother’s posture, the younger Sparda groaned.
“Don’t sit like that,” he said, shaking his head. “Get .. I dunno .. Loose?”
“Loose.”
“Loose!”
Vergil, very slowly and still quite stiff, shifted so sit with his legs crossed, under himself. Dante had to laugh. It was like watching a cat pick its way through water.
“Doesn’t that feel better?” Dante said, smirking. Vergil still looked awkward, so Dante stood again, grunting. “Wait here. Gotta put the finishing touches.” Vergil watched, confused and bemused, as his brother disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, Vergil saw his arms were full of utter nonsense.
Now, it was no secret that Dante ate like a trashcan. Sugary, carb-loaded, nonsense, those were his favorite foods, it seemed. Vergil? Not so much. He didn’t eat a great deal, actually.
Dante returned, clearly pleased with himself and Vergil was, at first, unsure as to why. He seemed to just be bringing a box under one arm and a small case in the other. As he got closer, Vergil saw it was some box from the pantry and the case was a six-count of bottles from the fridge. The latter went down on the coffee table in front of the couch, the former was tossed onto the couch.
“Dante, this is – “
“Gimme a minute!”
Vergil pursed his lips, mildly annoyed, while Dante fiddled with something on the TV, and then returned to his spot on the couch. He flopped down, pulling one edge of the comforter over himself. He kicked the other end over Vergil’s lap, much to the elder’s chagrin. In his lap, he was working open that box.
“This is getting gradually more and more asinine – “ Vergil attempted again.
His words were cut off, and rather violently so.
Dante had physically shoved something into his mouth as he was speaking. Instinctively biting down, Vergil tore it from his mouth and went to tear Dante a new asshole –
He paused, looking at what was in his hand. He found he couldn’t speak yet, had to chew and swallow.
“Dante, what the fuck was that?” He demanded, dropping his facade of the glacial Ice Prince.
Dante openly guffawed, his arms around his chest.
“It’s a snack, loser~”
“Why are we eating this?” Vergil demanded, holding it up. It was square bread, the edges crimped to make some manner of seal. Inside, something far too sweet to be healthy, and peanut butter.
“Because it’s a snack, you don’t need a reason to eat a snack,” Dante scoffed. He held up the box. Some generic, store brand. “The name brand ones are like $10 a box. Ain’t that nuts?”
“And making a regular sandwich is basically free!” Vergil huffed, throwing his hands up.
“Yeah, but this don’t got crusts,” Dante said, digging in the box and producing his own, single-wrapped treat. “Just eat it. It’s good.”
Vergil huffed, leaning back against the opposite arm of the couch. Not wanting it to go to waste, he did nibble the edge, mindful of its filling. All he needed was jam and peanut butter spurting out the other end.
Besides, now the TV was doing something. Had been doing something. When Dante had gone to fiddle with it, he must have set something into motion.
“ .. so this is it?” Verigl deadpanned, around another mouthful.
“Yup,” Dante replied, settling in, as the ominous opening chords began. Rustling trees, a rousing soundtrack.
“This is what you do all day?”
“Not every day, all day,” Dante huffed, rolling his eyes. “You ever see this movie?”
“No,” Vergil replied, with a small shrug. He watched for a few more seconds, going back to his strange little crustless sandwich. The rest of his sentiment didn’t need to be said out-loud. He was in captivity himself, when this film likely came out.
Dante caught the malaise. He caught other hints too.
Vergil was, quite literally, so used to being in survival mode, that the concept of an easy “lazy” day was foreign. Dante found himself worrying about it, actually. Worrying and fretting about his brother’s past. What frightful experiences helped mold him into the man who sat across from him on the couch, trying desperately to relax and almost surely failing? What nightmares manifested as Griffon and Shadow? What nightmares still lingered, as evidenced by his stiff back, his nervous eyes?
Dante nudged him, under the blanket, and Vergil looked at him, frowning.
“The dinos bust out,” he explained. “And they eat people. Figured you could relate.”
For a moment, that blunt joke and poke about his captivity seemed to slap Vergil full in the face. He looked as if he wanted to be offended, for a moment, but then, as if by the grace of God Herself, it relaxed, into one of soft amusement. Dante smiled, glad that his brother got it, caught the olive branch as it was offered, and seemed to choose to run with it.
Vergil sank back, getting comfortable.
“How many people?” He asked, resting his head on his hand.
“Not many in this one,” Dante said, sitting up, grabbing a bottle from the six pack, and twisting the cap free. He offered it to Vergil, who sat up just enough to take it. Cherry soda. “But the second one, like .. fifty dudes get ate.”
“Oh? We should watch that one next,” Vergil said, airily, going to take a drink.
“Hey, if you got the time, I got the couch~”
“ .. Yes,” Vergil said, setting the bottle on the coffee table in front of them. “I think I can find the time.”