Title: Rain and Blood

Disclaimer: Me no own, You no sue

Warning: Devilcest (Dante x Vergil), sexual situations, plotless

Notes:

1. This is my first Devil May Cry fic, be nice.

2. AU ending for DMC 3 (though I guess this whole thing is AU...).

3. Also, I don't know much about Dante and Vergil's childhood, so I'm kinda putting things together from what I've gotten out of the manga, novels, and video games. If I get something wrong, just let me know (kindly, please, I don't respond well to harsh criticism).

They bore the same face and features and blood
And yet they were nothing alike
These Devils with faces of Angels
And blood as black as night

Vergil always loved it when Dante was on his knees.

But they were nothing like the Angels of the Heavens
They were cruel
And cared for none but the other
Whether it be in love or hatred

"What are you doing here?" Dante demands, eyebrows furrowed as he watched his older brother's gaze wander around the rickety bar.

"Can't a man visit his only brother?" Vergil counters, mouth twisting in disgust at the grim surroundings.

"Usually," Dante's lips melted into a twisted sneer as he sauntered toward his double, ignoring the looks from the other mercenaries in the bar. "But, when you visit, it only means one thing," Dante trailed a finger down Vergil's jawline.

"So eager to suck my cock?" Vergil smirked. "I'm sure I've told you before that throwing your body around is unbecoming."

Dante pouted in a way he knew to be irresitable, "You calling me a slut?"

They trade barbs
Bitter and laced with a slow-working poison
These the only sons of a forgotten hero

Dante always loved it when Vergil made him work for something they both wanted.

So the Devil Brothers dance to the song of Lovers
Hips grinding and thrusting
Animalistic and Primal in all its ferocious beauty

He watched, icy blue eyes fixed on the man he had come to love and hate all at the same time, as Dante slowly stalked around him in an ever narrowing circle. Dante loving how Vergil watched his every move like some sort of predator, head cocked to the side like a bird.

"You still think you can handle it, old man?" Dante asks, voice husky with forbidden lust and anxiety at what he knows is coming.

Vergil only snorts and pulls his brother into a passionate kiss, throwing him onto a conviently placed couch. Clothing falls to the floor and the blood flows, the need growing and fueling the darkest of acts.

Clipped cries of pain
Tears of blood because they both know
That this won't last forever

Vergil always loved it when Dante was on his knees. But he has to go now, has to go and at least try to find something better.

Listening to retreating footsteps
Each breaks just a little bit more
And the show goes on
With but a few more acts needed to be performed

"Please don't go," Dante doesn't show the tears running down his face.

Vergil stares at his brother's back and does the only thing he knows how to do: he leaves.

Dante just stares at the floor, trying to will his brother's face from his mind's eye, his brother's scent from the room, his brother's taste from his mouth, his brother's touch from his skin.

He should have known better, really, it was the same every single time. Vergil would show up out of the blue, Dante would get mad, they would fight and then fuck, Dante would plead with Vergil to not leave, Vergil would leave.

It was all like some poorly written script, a soap opera for the higher-ups. And though Dante was so tired of playing along, he knew that if Vergil showed up again, he would do it all over again without a second thought. Some would say that he had it bad, and all Dante would be able to do would be to nod and agree.

Rain and Blood
Another fight
Another fuck

Atop Temen-ni-gru, Dante collapses. He could fight more - he could - he could fight with Vergil all night long. Except that he can't.

Rage builds in Vergil as he watches his brother throw down his sword. "Pick it up, Dante!" he shouts, almost begs.

"You want to kill me then do it," Dante says, he tilts his chin upwards and almost wants to smile, but then his brother's blade is slicing through his stomach and all he can feel is agony. He hacks up blood as his lungs are shredded and through the haze of pain he wonders how long his demonic body will hold up without oxygen.

"As you wish," is Vergil's low snarl.

Some how, some way
They'd lost it all
Lost everything they'd ever felt

Dante lays wheezing on the ground, utterly defeated, the blood of his tears mingling with the blood of his wounds. He can't remember when it had all gone so horribly wrong, but he wishes that he could fix it, has been wishing since he found his mother on the floor and his brother missing.

"This is what I wanted," Vergil says, kneeling down and running his fingers through silver hair that was so much like his own. "Stay by my side and we can rule the world together. It will be just us, forever. We can enjoy all the powers of the world that our father locked away."

"What kind of insanity has infected you with these bird-brained ideas?" Dante sputters, blood dribbling down his chin.

"The kind of insanity that is begotten when you find yourself in a tomb at the age of ten!" Vergil tightens his grip and smiles with gleaming fangs. "The kind of insanity that is begotten when everything I loved was taken away from me and I had to tear my way out of a fuckin' coffin!"

One dreamed
Only of chocolates and pizza and bar fights
The other dreamed
Only of blood and screaming and The Pine Box

There were whispers, among the dead and living alike, about how the sons of Sparda were seperated in blood and chaos and death then reunited in blood and rain and cum.

There were whispers, among the dead and living alike, about how a son of Sparda wished only for good times while the other lusted only for destruction.

There were whispers, among the dead and living alike, about how a son of Sparda seduced the other with loving touches and soft whispers, and stopped the world's destruction.

There are whispers, among the dead and living alike, about how the sons of Sparda drift from place to place, never being seen.

They bore the same face and features and blood
And yet they were nothing alike
These Devils with faces of Angels
And blood as black as night

Vergil always did love it when Dante was on his knees.

But they were nothing like the Angels of the Heavens
They were cruel
And cared for none but the other

And Dante always did love it when Vergil made him work for the thing that they both wanted.

Devil Brothers dance to the Lovers' song
Hips ginding and thrusting
Animalistic and Primal in all its ferocious beauty

And when Dante woke the next morning, Vergil was there, sleeping steadily.

So the curtain
On this masquerade draws silently closed
And a Tragedy
Becomes a Happy Ending