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Pandemonium was a glitter sore right in the middle of Capulet, already an ugly industrial gash on the blighted landscape. Here, all the red-hot blood from the city pooled into the flashing neon signs promising flesh and sweat. Every kind of vice was on full and open advertisement – fighting rings, strip clubs, porno theaters, underground casinos, dive bars. Trash overflowed from the dumpsters, tumbling out into the cracked concrete and pitted asphalt, crushed under the heel of drunken merrymakers and the people who catered to them.
Aloysius dodged through them easily, shivering as he felt their lusts follow after him.
He was the slim slip of a thing, deftly cutting through the crowd with a flash of a dimpled smile. The shifting colors of the passing signs mixed into something strange and new on his porcelain skin and drew unnatural shades from his dark hair. His wine-red doe eyes were outlined with long, dark lashes that brushed against his rosy cheeks. His perfect, cherubic lips were cherry red, teeth stark white against them as he bit his lower lip. He was a perfect little doll in leather and latex, uncanny in his beauty.
His preferred hunting ground was a dive called The Black Widow, which had a host of bikes parked in front and was full of Aloysius’s preferred type – big, rough, experienced. The low light made him glow,
Eyes tracked him, hungry, and Aloysius smirked as he settled down on a stool at the bar. He ordered a vodka soda, lips wrapping alluringly around the straw as he people-watched. He would have his pick tonight – already, men were jostling over which one was going to approach him first.
The door opened with a gust of cold night air. Aloysius froze in place.
The smell of wildfire and gunpowder, power and violence, filled the room so heavily that Aloysius could feel it pressing him down. He looked over his shoulder and felt his heart gallop at the sight of shock white hair and oxblood red.
On the edges of Pandemonium was a five-block radius all topside demons with sense avoided because a son of Sparda had claimed it. Really, the entirety of Pandemonium belonged to Dante, but he was magnanimous enough to let demons live and play so long as no human was harmed. However, even a peaceful devil was liable to get pumped full of lead if they wandered too close to his nest. The scent marking had only intensified lately, spreading out another block, leading to even more rumors amongst topside devils in the wake of Red Grave City.
They said the sons of Sparda had split the fruit of the Qliphoth in two and decided to subjugate the inferno; one (no one was sure which) even left behind a spawn to keep ripping through the damned in their absence. After a year of slaughter, they returned, and Dante convinced Vergil to join his crusade, and suddenly there were two sons of Sparda claiming an area. Most refused to even get near the park anymore.
Dante zeroed in on Aloysius easily. He cocked his head and began to stride over with the swagger of an apex predator. The most dangerous thing in the room, the most dangerous thing he’d ever see. Aloysius ducked his eyes on reflex, knowing better than to look at him directly.
Dante could stare as much as he wanted, those eerie blue eyes raking over Aloysius as his spread legs invaded his space. He did not view Aloysius as a threat and was making that very obvious. He spoke to the bartender in a friendly tone, “Whiskey, neat.”
Dante loomed over Aloysius. He was certainly handsome, with a cat’s grin and a dusting of silver over his square jaw. Older than Aloysius by at least twenty years. Broad and built, every muscle finely tuned for war. Every aspect of him dwarfed Aloysius.
“Doll,” he drawled. “Am I making you nervous?”
“Um,” Aloysius stammered. “…No.”
Dante smirked. Leaned closer.
“Never thought I’d meet one of you in some biker bar,” Dante said. “Surprised someone hasn’t tried to snatch you up yet.”
“Not with you staking your claim,” Aloysius said. Dante’s grin was all devil, teeth white and sharp. His drink came and he pulled back to take a sip while Aloysius played with his straw. He was facing forward, knees clasped together.
Dante’s glass clinked on the bar and pushed right back into Aloysius’s space, confident in his welcome. Aloysius flushed, only daring to look at Dante from the corner of his eye.
“I smelt you from the street,” Dante whispered in that low, rumbling voice. “Wondered how something so sweet could come from a dive like this.”
A big hand gripped Aloysius’s inner thigh. Dante took an exaggerated inhale.
“Even sweeter in here,” he said. “Shocked the bar hasn’t devolved into an orgy yet.”
Aloysius tossed his head back, haughty despite himself. “I have excellent control over my powers, I’ll have you know. Besides, I wouldn’t want to see half these people naked anyway.”
Dante chuckled. “Feisty, I like it. You got a pretty name, pretty thing?”
“Aloysius,” he said. “And I know who you are.”
“Got a reputation, huh?” Dante teased. “Figured all you topside would be telling stories about me.”
“Not just my kind,” Aloysius said. “All of Pandemonium knows about you, Dante.”
“Oh?” Dante purred. “And what rumors are those?”
He was a man with the appetite of a demon, well known to the neon slick nightlife surrounding his territory. A voracious lover, rough and demanding of his partner’s pleasure, followed by tales of him taking three or four in a single night and leaving them wrung out. Few humans could hope to match the stamina of a cambion, after all.
“That you’re an absolute devil in bed,” Aloysius murmured, syrup sweet. “You keep them up all night until they can’t even crawl the next day.”
“What do they expect, begging me for more?” Dante laughed. “I’m just giving the people what they want.”
Aloysius swept his gaze down from Dante’s handsome face to where his shirt gaped open, showcasing a hint of the silver hair covering his strong chest. Lower still, to his solid legs encased in leather; Aloysius’s breath hitched when he saw the bulge of his cock, tucked against his thigh. Well, no wonder he was so self-confident.
“Like what you see?” Dante asked, knowing exactly what Aloysius saw.
Aloysius wrapped his lips around his straw, Dante tracking every single movement. He parted his lips, letting the straw fall away. He tilted his head towards Dante, enjoying the intensity of his focus.
“I do,” Aloysius said. Dante’s hand slid up his thigh.
“Part of me wants to fuck you in the bathroom,” he said, matter-of-fact. “A bigger part is thinking about how I have a whole weekend to myself and want to savor it.”
Aloysius bit his lip, a flash of white against the cherry red. “You’re presumptuous, acting like I’m going to say yes.”
Dante laughed at him, grip like iron on Aloysius’s thigh. “Baby, I knew you were going to say yes the second I stepped into the bar.”
He knocked back his whiskey and tossed some cash on the bar. A possessive arm wrapped around Aloysius’s waist and swept him up. Dante herded Aloysius out the door, ignoring the people watching him. Another casual assertion of dominance – not even threat enough to acknowledge.
Outside the bar, Aloysius immediately spotted a devil arm disguised as a motorcycle, casually sitting among the others. The demonic energy crackled off of it; it was no shock when Dante strolled over to it and straddled it. He patted the back.
“What a machine,” Aloysius said as he slid in behind Dante, wrapping his arms around his middle. Beneath his hands, he felt rock-hard muscle, hotter than a brand.
“Hold on tight, babe,” Dante said. “It’s quite a ride.”
Aloysius clung to him, face pressed into his back.
The infernal bike roared through Pandemonium, weaving through the gridlocked traffic with ease. The engine rattled up Aloysius’s core, and he moaned into Dante’s ear, squirming closer to him.
Aloysius knew the moment they entered Dante’s territory, plunged into the smell of wildfire and blood, twined gunpowder and ozone. Two dominant, powerful demons living together in a single nest? Truly unusual – the twins must be the sharing type. Aloysius ground down into the vibrations at the thought. He felt drunk on the scent, the vibration, the feel of Dante against him. When the bike stopped in front of the nest, Aloysius startled, struggling to stand with steady legs.
“Already out of it, doll?” Dante asked, before hauling Aloysius into a boiling hot kiss. Aloysius clutched at his shirt; one of Dante’s hands gripped his ass, while the other held his thigh. He spread Aloysius open so he could drag him down to grind against that big, muscular thigh. Aloysius moaned into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Dante’s long hair.
Dante finally pulled away, with a lick across Aloysius’s bruised lips. “Next time, I’m fucking you in the bar bathroom.”
He hauled Aloysius up, legs wrapped around Dante’s waist. Dante kicked open the doors to the shop, carrying Aloysius inside. He laid Aloysius down on a large, heavy wooden desk, pressing his face into the slender, white column of Aloysius’s neck.
“Damn,” Dante groaned. “Haven’t gotten laid since Hell, babe. Ready for the task?”
“I’m a child of Lilith,” Aloysius cooed, stroking down Dante’s beard. “I was made for it.”
Dante laughed, and bit into the soft tissue.
Aloysius gasped, back arching up off the desk. Dante bit and sucked on his neck and collarbone, teeth just a hair sharper than a human’s. Deftly, he pushed Aloysius’s jacket off and unzipped his top, leaving Aloysius in just his tight pants and boots. Dante pressed kisses to Aloysius’s chest, biting and sucking on his pink nipples before straightening up.
His coat dropped to the floor, followed by his shirt. His torso was a glorious work of art, his chest covered in hair and a thick happy trail emerged from his leather pants. Aloysius could see the thick, obscene bulge of his half-hard cock straining against the fabric. Dante pulled off Aloysius’s boots and pants, leaving him only in his tiny black boyshorts.
Shameless, Dante spread Aloysius wide and pressed his face right against his underwear, inhaling the scent of him. His beard scratched against the soft skin of Aloysius’s inner thighs and he laughed, breathless, fingers in Dante’s hair.
“Oh!” Aloysius giggled. “That tickles!”
“You smell amazing, doll,” Dante groaned. “Enough to make a man want to eat you right up.”
“Why don’t you?” Aloysius asked with a flutter of his eyelashes. Dante grinned, ripping the boyshorts off, sticky slick coating them. Unashamed, he took another deep inhale of Aloysius’s underwear before tucking it into his back pocket.
“For later,” he teased and dived in.
Aloysius cried out, back arching as Dante sucked on his clit. Slick and saliva coated Dante’s mouth and chin as he sloppily licked into Aloysius. He moaned, legs tight around Dante’s head, tight grip on his hair. Dante gripped Aloysius’s narrow waist, big hands almost completely encircling him, and pulled him tighter against his face. Those predator-blue eyes stared intently through the curtain of his white hair, watching Aloysius squirm. Aloysius gasped, overwhelmed, and bit his finger to ground himself, muffling his cries. Dante pulled away, licking his lips.
“Oh, that won’t do,” Dante said. He stood up straight and expertly flipped Aloysius onto his stomach, arms pinned against his back. “I want it loud, sugar.”
The sound of a belt being undone. Aloysius’s arms were bound in place. Dante spread Aloysius’s legs wide and dived back in, big hands keeping Aloysius from moving. Aloysius moaned, wet mouth open and eyes wide. Dante plunged two fingers into Aloysius, crooking them down to press into his g-spot. He clenched his fists uselessly, legs kicking out. Dante used his free hand to pin one of Aloysius’s legs wide open. Slick and salvia dripped down onto the desk.
“Dante!” Aloysius gasped, whole body shaking. “I’m going—!”
The bowstring snapped and Aloysius came, gushing all over Dante’s face. Dante drank it all down eagerly, driving Aloysius into further overstimulation. Aloysius thrashed, trying to wriggle away from Dante’s fingers and tongue, but the devil refused to let him until he had his fill.
Dante stood up straight. Aloysius pressed his face against the cool wood of the desk, gasping. Heavy boots walked around the desk; a hand gripped Aloysius’s hair, jerking his head up so he and Dante could lock eyes. Dante very pointedly did not let Aloysius look away.
“Tired already, baby?” Dante asked. His mouth and chin were wet. “You haven’t even returned the favor yet.”
With that firm grip on Aloysius’s hair, he dragged Aloysius off the desk and to his knees on the cold floor. Aloysius was held aloft only by Dante’s hand in his hair. Dante grinned as he popped open the buttons of his pants, and revealed he didn’t wear underwear. His cock slapped Aloysius in the face – long, thick, uncut, curved up. Precum smeared across Aloysius’s cheek.
“Open up, doll,” Dante said. “Stick out your tongue.”
Aloysius did, glassy-eyed. Dante fed him his cock, pushing forward until it hit the back of Aloysius’s throat, nose was buried in Dante’s pubic hair. Aloysius’s eyes fluttered as he took in the rich smell of wildfire and gunpowder, head filled with a pleasant buzz.
“Just like that,” Dante hissed. “Fuck.”
Dante fucked Aloysius’s throat without care, moving him with the grip on his hair. Aloysius kept his thighs spread wide, dripping wet, letting himself be used. Dante groaned, rumbling deep in his chest, and tossed his head back. Drool dripped down Aloysius’s jaw.
He sunk deep into the sensation, letting Dante move his head and fuck his throat as he wished. Heavy balls slapped against his chin. Behind his back, his bound hands twitched and twisted together, trying to ground himself.
“You’re made to take dick,” Dante groaned, thrusts increasing in speed and sloppiness. “No gag reflex. Barely need to breathe – all you need is cock, huh?”
Dante gritted his teeth, tossing his head back and pushing Aloysius deep on his cock as he came with a roar. Aloysius finally choked, cum pouring down his throat and mouth. Dante, generous, pulled out and jerked off over Aloysius’s face until it dripped off his eyelashes and down his chin.
“Ah, beautiful,” Dante purred, rubbing his thumb over Aloysius’s messy bottom lip. “Enough to make a man hard again.”
With that, Dante hauled Aloysius over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Aloysius let out a startled laugh as Dante carried him up the rickety stairs and into the heart of the nest, his den.
Aloysius was thrown onto a big bed. Here in Dante’s den, his smell was at its height, drowning him in it. Aloysius lifted his head, just enough to take in the room – a large, scratched-up armoire, a dinged-up leather armchair with clothes piled on it. And, right across from Aloysius’s flushed face, a full-length mirror with an excellent view of Dante’s large, four-poster bed. Mounted above it was a truly impressive devil skull, crowned with horns.
Dante set his guns on the nightstand before he tore off his boots and pants, cock already making an impressive comeback. He knelt behind Aloysius, undoing his belt and letting Aloysius’s arms flop down; Dante gently massaged Aloysius’s wrists.
“Like what you see in the mirror, baby?” Dante murmured, gripping Aloysius’s chin and making him stare into his own reflection. “It’s always a hit.”
He let go of Aloysius and then settled back against his pillows, lounging like a king. He patted his thigh, right next to his hardening cock. “Come on, baby. Let’s go for a ride.”
Aloysius clumsily crawled over the bed and into Dante’s lap, sloppily kissing him. Dante hugged Aloysius close, groping Aloysius’s pert ass. His other hand slipped to the front, two fingers rubbing Aloysius’s clit. He was so warm, power strumming under Aloysius’s hands, and he felt drunk with it. Dante pulled away to lick and suck at Aloysius’s neck.
“Turn and face the mirror,” Dante ordered.
Aloysius shuffled around, so his back was against Dante’s broad chest. His reflection was flushed down to his chest, inner thighs slick and wet. Dante helped guide Aloysius down onto the thick head of his cock, but left Aloysius to sink down on the rest on his own. In the mirror, Aloysius watched himself be split open by Dante’s huge, throbbing cock. Aloysius reached back, clutching at Dante’s hair and shoulders; Dante’s hands settled on Aloysius’s waist, helping guide him down.
“Damn, you’re still so tight,” Dante hissed.
“You’re just big,” Aloysius mumbled, voice hoarse. Dante chuckled, pressing his face into Aloysius’s neck.
“Keep stroking my ego, doll,” Dante said. “You’ll get what you want.”
His ego did not need more encouragement.
Aloysius sunk down, ass nestled against Dante’s pelvis. He took a deep breath and rose back up before dropping back down with a moan. He bounced on Dante’s cock, relishing the sheer stretch in his core. Dante’s hands on his hips kept Aloysius steady as he moved, legs burning.
“Dante,” Aloysius gasped. Dante’s grip turned bruising as he slammed Aloysius down, and Aloysius felt that massive cock in his throat. “Oh!”
Dante took control, slamming Aloysius down right as he slammed his hips up. Aloysius jerked and moaned, suddenly just something Dante was using to get off. Vision hazy, he looked at the mirror – Dante’s jaw was clenched, mouth pulled into a snarl that showed his sharp, white teeth. He glanced up, meeting Aloysius’s gaze in the mirror. Red bleeding into the endless blue.
He came again, convulsing and clenching as he squirted across Dante’s sheets. Dante delighted in this, pinching his clit to make him gush even further. Aloysius’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, clutching at Dante like a lifeline. “Like some rough handling, huh? Should’ve guessed that.”
Aloysius was shoved down into the mattress – face down, ass up. Dante’s hand was fisted in his hair, keeping him pinned in place. Aloysius couldn’t escape the gunpowder-wildfire-blood, filling up his brain and driving out whatever thought remained. Dante’s other hand gripped Aloysius’s hip, and he mounted him with even more vigor, growling and snapping.
“That’s it, bitch,” Dante crooned, deep and inhuman. “You like that? Perfect fucking slut—”
Dante pressed his mouth against Aloysius’s ear, jerking his hair and forcing him to look in the mirror. Aloysius’s control of his human shape had slipped out of his hands completely – his skin had become a light, rosy violet, hands and forearms tinged black. A spade-tipped tail thrashed; his feet were hooves. His cute little horns provided little in the way of actual threat. His face was tear-stained and covered in cum, bite-bruised lips open to let his tongue loll out. His belly bulged with each thrust of Dante’s massive cock.
Dante wasn’t doing much better, the devil in him roiling up to the surface. Clawed hands dug into Aloysius’s side, droplets of blood dripping onto the sheets. The cock inside him was changing too – thicker, longer, ridged. Aloysius felt every single inch. A deep, inhuman noise was rumbling Dante’s chest, too-long tongue licking up Aloysius’s neck before he bit down on Aloysius’s nape. Aloysius was forced down against the bed by Dante’s bite, unable to do anything except moan and sob as he was used like a cheap toy. He was distantly aware that he was coming again, but he was so overwhelmed by sensation it just all blended together into one continuous feeling of orgasm.
“D-Dante,” Aloysius choked out. Dante slammed his hips in deep once, twice, and then he was coming boiling hot inside Aloysius until his belly bulged with it.
I look pregnant, Aloysius thought hysterically.
Dante was growling and snarling, teeth clenched in Aloysius’s nape to keep him still until he was satisfied. He was a big heavy weight pressing Aloysius into the bed, soothing Aloysius as he writhed and cried at the overwhelming pleasure. They breathed together as they came down from the peak.
Finally, Dante pulled out in a gush of fluid, sitting back up against the headboard and arranging the limp Aloysius in his lap. He was mostly back in human skin, though the tongue gently lapping at Aloysius’s bitemarks was rather long and pointed.
“You feeling alright, babe?” Dante asked sweetly. Aloysius snuggled close to his warmth, both exhausted and exhilarated by the feeling of Dante’s lust coursing through him. He could live off of just this night for a week, maybe more, so flushed with power it made his skin glow like nacre.
“Mhm,” he hummed. Dante nuzzled Aloysius’s ruined curls, dropping soft kisses against bruised skin. “Being so sweet to me.”
“Gotta be, after you were so sweet to me,” Dante said, pressing his lips to Aloysius’s temple. “You gonna keep being sweet to me?”
Aloysius blinked up at Dante with those big doe eyes. “Huh?”
Dante grinned, truly wicked. “I told you, doll, I got the place to myself the whole weekend, and I intend to make the most of it the whole time.”
He caught Aloysius’s mouth in a vicious kiss. Aloysius moaned, eyes slipping shut as he surrendered himself fully.
--
The job with Vergil went…well.
A nest of demons had posted up at a lakeside resort (off-season, fortunately.) Nero and Vergil managed to find a certain synergy as they mowed through the infernal hoard before closing the portal they came through. The resort manager was grateful enough that on top of their pay, they each got a night at one of the nice rooms – way nicer than the myriad of flea-ridden, rat trap motels Nero stayed in during his career as a devil hunter. Nero and Vergil ate at a diner in the resort town and managed a stilted discussion about poetry. They got through the entire weekend without stabbing each other once!
Nero counted it as a victory.
He had taken his bike down to Devil May Cry, leaving it in the parking lot and getting to the lakeside resort via handy Yamato portal. Vergil took him back to Devil May Cry the same way. The motorcycle was still there; Nero had asked about thieves, worried about leaving it in this shithole neighborhood. Dante had just smiled and cryptically said, “People don’t steal from me, kid.”
“Better say hello to the other old man,” Nero said, looking at Vergil from the corner of his eye. He was getting a good grasp of Vergil’s minute expressions – not quite at Dante’s levels, but the pinched brow and narrow eyes communicated confusion/bafflement.
“As you wish,” Vergil murmured, and they ascended the stairs to Devil May Cry.
Nero always got a weird vibe from the office. It was like walking through a forest teeming with life, only for all that life to fall silent the second you got close – a sign that a greater predator was passing through. Climbing up the stairs and pushing open the door was always a bit of a hurdle. “Hey, grandpa—"
A sweet, trilling smell made Nero freeze in the doorway.
Honey dripping from the hive, fruit ripe enough to drop from the tree, a flower garden in full springtime bloom. Nero coughed, while Vergil’s pinched expression morphed into a full-blown scowl.
“What’s that smell?” Nero asked.
“He didn’t,” Vergil muttered before suddenly yelling out “DANTE!”
Vergil was not a man who needed to raise his voice; Nero genuinely startled at the sound. Upstairs, there was a loud crashing sound and cursing before Dante burst out of his bedroom. He was wearing ragged jeans and a pair of ragged boots, untied. Faux casual, he leaned against the mezzanine railing and said, “Vergil! Kid! You guys are back…early!”
Dante didn’t actually sound happy about that. Nero furrowed his brow.
“Did you seriously have sex in the common area and not bother cleaning up,” Vergil hissed. Dante threw his hands up.
“Hey, I had sex on my desk,” Dante defended. “You were supposed to be on a father-son hunting trip all weekend. I was going to wipe it down.”
Nero wanted to die.
“Ridiculous,” Vergil said. He looked ready to go into a full rant, but was interrupted by Dante’s door creeping open.
“Dante?” a gentle, crooning voice asked. A slim, slip of a thing hugged Dante’s arm, wearing an oversized t-shirt that wasn’t his and not much else. His perfect doll face squished against Dante’s bicep, long limbs wrapping around him. He was beautiful beyond measure, but something about him was…strange, like staring into the cold blue light of a bug zapper, or the gaudy neon signs all the jiggle joints used to advertise.
The shirt’s collar slipped down, revealing how his neck was a mess of bruises and bitemarks; the hem rose, revealing his thighs to be similarly brutalized. Nero was shocked he could walk. Vergil was doing his best impression of a statue.
He casually glanced at Nero before airily looking away to lock on to Vergil with an open curiosity. The cool dismissal made a strange sort of rage spike in Nero’s heart, and he jerked at the feeling. Dante’s expression was…something.
“Ah, babe,” Dante said. He turned to herd him back towards the bedroom, a big wall between them and the mysterious boy. “Our party got crashed…let’s clean up and I’ll get you home…”
He spared a vicious glare to Vergil before he closed the door. Vergil only marginally relaxed when the boy was out of his sight.
“Bringing a strange demon into our territory,” Vergil scoffed. “Especially one of Lilith’s children…he’s lucky we didn’t rip each other apart.”
“That was a demon?” Nero exclaimed, surprised. Vergil gave him the same look he did when he was disappointed with Nero’s wielding of the Yamato.
“Yes,” he said. “An incubus, a devil that feeds on sexual desire and energy.”
Oh, so his uncle spent the whole weekend with a sex demon and now everything smelt like it. Great info for Nero to know, just great.
“Though you probably haven’t ever met one before,” Vergil continued. “They are disinterested in hurting humans and blend well into human society. Rarely a hunter’s quarry.”
“I…I see,” Nero said. He didn’t know why he was surprised – surely there were more demons like Trish and Sparda out there. Dante mentioned knowing a few on occasion, even.
A shower started in the distance. Dante came back out of his bedroom, this time with a shirt. Defiant and unapologetic, he sat in his chair and kicked his feet up the desk he banged a sex demon on and forgot to wipe down, which apparently was a house rule at Devil May Cry. “Couch is safe.”
Vergil stiffly sat down, still glaring. “You know bringing an incubus here is dangerous.”
“I thought you two would be gone longer,” Dante said. “I’m a man with needs and I saw him at a bar. What was I going to do, let some human fumble around with him?”
“Why would it be dangerous for him to be here?” Nero asked. “You just said they’re not fighters.”
“Come on, you felt it kid,” Dante said in that almost-mocking tone he used when Nero didn’t get a movie reference, a malicious sort of pity. It was infuriating. “They may not be fighters, but they have defenses – namely, fluttering their eyelashes at higher-order demons until they go crazy.”
“If Dante had been actively…engaged with the incubus, we would’ve torn each other’s heads off,” Vergil said.
“Not necessarily,” Dante said with a smirk. “Remember that time in Hell when a whole pack of—”
“Quiet.”
Nero closed his eyes. Inhaled through his nose. Exhaled through his mouth. He knew way too much about both of them.
The incubus took that moment to saunter out of Dante’s bedroom, still wearing a borrowed shirt but fortunately paired it with pants this time. Dante lept out of his seat to meet him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ready to go?” Dante asked. The incubus smiled, hugging Dante’s arm again with eyes full of adoration. Nero didn’t want to know what you had to do to get that look.
“Yeah,” he said, breathy. He looked at Vergil with those big eyes, biting his bottom lip. “Sorry I can’t stay to get to know you all better…”
Vergil, somehow, got even stiller.
“Come on, babe,” Dante said, herding the incubus out the door and away from Vergil as quickly as possible. “You loved the last ride you took on my bike…”
The incubus’s giggle haunted the office as the front door closed. Vergil and Nero lingered in the silence for a while before Nero’s burning curiosity and fast mouth got him in trouble again.
“Wait, did you and Dante seriously—”
“Silence!”