redcoatandgunsmoke:

the-cerulean-hunter:

redcoatandgunsmoke:

the-cerulean-hunter:

Eyes dropped, becoming half lidded, a faint desire boiling behind those weakened orbs as his hands reached up, lacing into Dante’s hair, gently tugging at the follicles. Even in this darkness, his body seemed to always know who he was, it would never forget his touch.

“Can…I lay my head…on your lap? Just…for a little while?”

“Yeah.  Don’t move too much. Let me do this.”   He wasn’t sure he ought to - not with that bullet sitting in his brain.  Either way, he sat up onto the bed, reaching to gently guide Vergil’s head into his lap gently.  His thigh was solid, warm, but when he relaxed, it was a soft enough pillow.  He brushed his fingers through Vergil’s matted hair - it had been days since he’d had a proper bath. He clicked his tongue softly.  “So filthy… We ought to get you into my bath tub at some point tonight, hm…?”

He gave a nod, letting Dante move him, situate him as he saw fit. After all, he found himself strangely trusting him. He felt, deep within his person, that he could trust him. Once his head laid onto Dante’s thigh, he nuzzled it with the side of his cheek, the tension in his body slowly easing. It was a moment before he registered his words. Turning just enough as he lifted his hand, rubbing at the scruff that had actually begun to grow on his cheeks and partially his neck, he groaned. On the inside, deep, something deep within him. There was a man screaming in irritation.

“Bath…sounds nice…face is scruffy…I don’t like it.”

“I know.  It doesn’t suit you, for some reason.”  Although Dante boasted of the same amount of scruff, somehow… somehow it just never set right on Vergil’s slightly narrower cheekbones, his sharper facial lines.  His lips pursed. “I’ll give you a shave in the bath tub, with a regular razor - all right?”   His fingertips massaged his wrist, rubbing his thumb up and down the tendons that made his fingers flex and move.  “…Nice and gentle. Does that sound nice, baby..?”   His words crooned, using a tone that he only ever used in earnest, in solace, with Vergil.

His memory seemed to register the voice, the gentle tone that he used, it called out to something deep in him, furthering his relaxation. The energy, the beautiful aura around Dante was sinking into him, filling him with a warmth that only Dante could ever offer. Then a voice rang in the back of his mind…the voice was cold, hard, resonating with a earth shattering power.

“Only he can make you feel like this. Only him. No one else dares sully your skin. You are his…”

Shaking his head, before he looked up to Dante, he tilted his head to one side, the voice had sounded so… He couldn’t describe it, but a shudder coursed it’s way up his spine, making goosebumps lift on his skin. He would soon forget the voice as a light flush crept over his cheeks as he gave a nod. “It sounds…hea…” He stopped himself, a light growl rumbled up from his chest.

Heavenly? Tch…pathetic…pathetic, disgusting…Angels…Holy…

He sat up just then, his eyes glowing a dark blue, faintly returning to the way his eyes used to be, hardening to an icy cold glare as he turned to look at the man. “Order…Order Knights…”