Work Text:
Finding Dante again has been an experience.
He had always been prone to wandering, and I knew that when I met him some years ago. We both danced around that fact a lot. He sometimes made this face, had this twinkle in his eye while making a cheesy joke about something I’d written, and I knew what it meant. I’d catch myself before spurting out a sappy monologue while playing with his hair after an exhausting session of sex.
We’d agreed it would be a casual thing and we both ended up liars.
It was a clean break. I’m not saying no aftermath existed from the whole thing, but the actual process of his goodbye was fairly clinical, almost methodical. He didn’t leave anything behind. Granted, he didn’t have a ton of trinkets or keepsakes, but his clothes, weapons, and even the toothbrush he kept by my sink were all gone. I felt the heartbreak for a while. I know the exact amount of days, but it felt like a small eternity burned into my life. Despite how painful it was, I moved on. Life happens and humanity must flow with it.
Years went by and Dante was a memory that felt like a barely-visible scar. Sometimes I could hear his dumb jokes when I ordered his regular from a local pizza place. Or I’d think I saw him, but it was just somebody else in a red coat. The mind sees what it wants to see, after all. My works got published in a variety of places and I managed to secure a decent house. Eventually, I even adopted some pets. I hadn’t found a spouse and that was okay. I dated here and there and felt comfortable with casual encounters. Even though I knew it was impossible, the only serious relationship I wanted was with the irreverent Devil Hunter I’d shared a bed with in the past.
Being set up on a blind date by a friend wasn’t unusual by any means. This time, his name was Tom. Or Bob. Something business-y and common. I knew where it was going as soon as he asked if I wanted kids. I politely said “No” without spitting out my usual spiel about not wanting to push a being the size of a melon out of my vagina or any of the other reasons. He asked why and I pushed the topic away like a cat knocking a glass off of a counter.
Just when I wondered if I could concoct a pet emergency to get away from Bob (or whatever his name was), a loud crash reverberated through the restaurant. It seemed to come from above us, like on the roof. A bit of dust fell from the ceiling and dropped to float in my wine glass with the next crash. Finally, the roof gave way.
A form fell like a graceless angle right onto the table. Plates smashed and food went all over the stranger. A cowboy hat rolled off white hair and I felt my mouth dry immediately when I made eye contact with the man who fell onto my plate of ravioli.
“Dante?” I whispered.
Before he could respond, a bigger shape leapt down from the hole in the ceiling. It was some sort of unholy being, but I didn’t get a chance to look at it very much before something shot at it. While Dante recovered from his fall, another white-haired man shot from a hallway at the thing.
I helped Dante up and he told me to leave. Now. I knew that tone and didn’t doubt that whatever this thing was could easily snap me in half. I was a writer, not a demon hunter. I’d wanted Dante to teach me about these things when we first met, and he’d said he would if he stayed in town long enough. He hadn’t. Therefore, I knew that leaving was my best chance of survival. Bob had scurried away as soon as Dante crashed into out table, so I didn’t have to worry about him.
After arriving home, I felt restless energy pour into my limbs. Adrenaline was still kicking. Or maybe it was anxiety. I paced and recited Shakespeare while my golden retriever Jo followed me with her usual calm demeanor. Time ticked by and I finally felt like sitting still right as my doorbell rang. Peering through the peephole, I saw the other white-haired man and a skinny (kid? adult?) with him. I opened the door without hesitation and scanned around for Dante.
“Uncle Dante’s not with us, if that’s who you’re looking for,” The former stranger said.
“U—uncle Dante?” I managed to spit out.
“Yeah. It’s a long story, but he said we could trust you. We need somewhere to stay.”
Again, with no hesitation, I nodded. “Come in. Make yourselves comfy, I guess.”
From further conversation, I learned that their names were Nero and V. V saw my collection of books and asked if he could peruse them. I happily let him while realizing the anxiety gnawing my stomach.
“Is—is Dante okay?” I asked Nero after a moment.
The young man looked up from where he’d found one of my cats and shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. I assume you know him; he’s no stranger to a little fight.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”
This caused Nero to furrow his brows together and I could see a passing family resemblance for a moment. “How do you know him anyway?”
“It’s a long story. Short version: we dated. He had to leave. Life happens.”
The two boys ended up using rooms I’d furnished as guest rooms. The master bedroom called my name after more pacing, but I felt like I’d just toss and turn. More time passed. Another knock on the door.
When I saw the cowboy hat, I flung the door open.
“Dante Sparda I oughta kick your ass,” I hissed.
“Good to know your accent hasn’t changed,” He replied with a smirk. I saw now that he had a beard and the passage of years had been kind to him.
“You send your nephew and his cohort to my house? After you fall from the ceiling while I’m on a date and totally destroy what was left of my ravioli?”
“Are you gonna let me in or do I have to stand here all night?”
A pause. “No. Come in.”
Things fell into an odd silence. I didn’t have to tell Dante to make himself at home; he just did. He eventually explained bits and pieces, told me what had happened since we last saw each other. I did the same and only when I yawned three times in one sentence did I realize how tired I was.
“I’ll go wake the boys up. We should go,” Dante murmured.
“No. Stay. They need rest and so do you,” I pleaded.
I could see the gears turning in Dante’s head. Eventually, he put his hat down on the coffee table and smiled.
“You got a blanket I can use? This couch looks like it’s made out of fairly decent nap material.”
I shook my head. “We don’t have to dance around it. You can stay in my bed.” I paused. “I want you to stay in my bed.”
From there, everything felt natural. With a sudden devilish grin, I told Dante to take the hat with him. He picked me up and asked which way to my room. I pointed towards it before cupping his face and kissing him with the intensity of years of absence.
“You gonna actually kick my ass or do you have something a little more fun in mind?” He asked when he found my room and shut the door behind us.
“Do you want your ass kicked? Because I had something a little different in mind. But it’s up to you.”
“No, I know that look. I want what you were thinking about just now.”
I asked him to let me down and he obliged. With a semi-stern tone, I ordered him to strip and lay down on the bed. But leave the hat on. Dante chuckled but complied. I took off the fancy dress from the blind date that felt like years ago and found the drawer with the exact cuffs I wanted. The tan leather hadn’t worn that much since Dante had last seen them and that somehow made things feel less like a reunion and more like a regular occurrence.
I wrapped the cuffs around Dante’s wrists and through a gap in the headboard while inquiring, “You okay?”
“Absolutely,” He whispered back in an almost awe-filled tone.
“Good. Ya know what they say,” I grinned while slowly straddling Dante. I could feel his dick twitch against my thigh and continued, “‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy.’”
Dante laughed but his raspy guffaw was cut off as soon as I began to grind on his hardening cock. It transformed into a breathless moan and I joined the chorus with a whine as I felt the rush from gliding my clit across him. As I kept grinding his moans started mingling with curses and I squeaked out an “Oh, fuck” as I came quietly for the first time.
“Good to see you can still control yourself decently,” I huffed.
“You’re the one who sets the rules here, ma’am,” He drawled the last bit, mimicking my accent just the slightest bit.
“That’s Mistress to you, honey,” I replied with another soft grind.
Dante groaned. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.”
Then, grin still plastered on my face, I aligned Dante’s shaft with my opening and sank onto him slowly. He huffed out more curses and moans and I repeated the process a couple more times. Once I took his entire length and sat on top of him, I began to move.
The cursing got louder, and Dante tried to move out of the restraints. When I could feel him getting close, I stopped and waited for him to keen out a plea to move again. He finally asked nicely enough, and I started again. Stop, start. Stop, start. A lovely orgasm of my own, full of Dante and clenching him just right. More keening mixed with pleas to come. Stop, start. Stop, start.
When I got close to my next orgasm, I asked, “Would you like to come, Dante?”
“Yes, Mistress. Please.”
He (rather loudly) came with my next orgasm and I remembered just how much he comes. I was practically leaking with cum by the time he finished.
We cleaned up and I set the cuffs back in their spot. Dante placed his hat on the nightstand next to a pair of my earrings and patted the bed. I grabbed him like I used to and put my hands in his hair. It felt similar yet new; it felt right.
“I love you,” I whispered as our legs intertwined.
“I love you too,” He replied as he settled his face into my shoulder.
It was that simple.