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Dante found talking to Siegfried more than tiring. They hadn’t been in the best mood to begin with, which only added to their growing irritation. When Dante had learned that they were returning to K. Corp. for a client, they had been less than thrilled about it. The memories of that corporation in particular put a bad flavor in their metaphorical mouth. Their one saving grace was that Vergilius claimed the Distortion they had been hired to deal with was relatively simple. Unfortunately, it was apparently not simple enough to fly under the radar of the oh so heroic Fixer Siegfried.
Everyone but Don Quixote’s face fell as they recognized the man. It was hard not to remember the particularly painful beating they had gotten from him, and even harder to forget the public display of discipline that Vergilius had given Don Quixote after their one-sided brawl with Siegfried. Most just turned their backs, condemning Dante to deal with the man alone.
It seemed Siegfried had no intention of assisting the Sinner’s in their battle against the Distortion. It seemed he had no intention of being helpful at all, actually. Instead, he seemed more than content to watch from the sidelines, standing next to Dante and commenting on every move the Sinners made and picking apart every flaw. Whether Siegfried knew that Dante was the one commanding the Sinners or not, they could not tell. It irritated them all the same. His boisterous volume made it nearly impossible to ignore him, and they found themselves making more mistakes than usual because of the constant obnoxious chatter next to them.
< Would it kill you to shut up, > Dante hissed out, their patience quickly waning.
“I did not quite catch that!” Siegfried said, oblivious to Dante’s irritation. “Perhaps I should find you some pen and paper so you can communicate?”
Dante shook their head, waving their hand in dismissal. The last thing they wanted was to have a proper conversation with the man. It didn’t matter to Siegfried. He quickly resumed their one-sided conversation with glee. Dante was getting better at drowning it out, or at least they were, till suddenly Siegfried was directly in front of them, covering their view of the battle. They whistled in frustration, making a motion for him to get out of the way, but he stayed glued to where he stood. Dante huffed, side-stepping him to see that a handful of Sinners had been slaughtered while they had been distracted. Great. Taking a deep breath, they prepared themselves for the pain of having to turn back the clock for multiple Sinners at once, before their vision went white from the pain. When they came back, Siegfried was once again in front of them, his smile now more predatory than obnoxious.
“What a contraption. Almost comparable to our HP bullets. How do you do it?”
At times like this, Dante wished they could yell.
< Kinda busy here. >
“Aha! It does have something to do with the clock. Just like they thought…”
Dante had no idea who ‘they’ were, and they had no desire to figure it out. They were quickly reaching the end of their rope, though thankfully, the battle in front of them was quickly coming to an end, the sheer inability to stay down making it easy for the Sinners to turn the tide.
Dante nearly jumped out of their skin when they felt fingers graze the edge of their head. They turned quickly, almost knocking into Siegfried’s hand as he examined their clock face. The way he was looking at them was unnerving. There was a certain cold interest in his eyes, looking over Dante as though they were a machine that he could pick apart for pieces. There was no humanity in his gaze, only an eagerness to utilize. Dante made a move to step back, but Siegfried swiftly grabbed hold of their head, turning them every which way before forcing them forward. His eyes burned into Dante, following as their clock hands moved nervously. His gaze made Dante’s skin prickle with goosebumps, but they made no movements to push him away. They remembered how quickly Siegfried had decimated the Sinner, and unlike them, Dante could not be brought back so easily.
“Siegfried, I’ll have to ask you to take your hands off of our dear Executive Manager.”
Relief flooded through Dante as a raspy voice spoke up from behind them. They pushed Siegfried’s hand away, making a disgruntled noise as they were finally able to take a step back.
“Ah, Vergilius!” Siegfried said with a grin. “My apologies; I meant no harm. I was simply curious about how they managed to bring their allies back to life, is all.”
“We are all in the trade of keeping company secrets, Siegfried. You know this better than most,” Vergilius replied coolly, a look of irritation clear on his face.
Dante could feel Vergilius on their side, his shoulder nearly pressing against theirs. He gave Siegfried another disgruntled look, but did not move from where he had pushed between the two. If Siegfried was annoyed by the interruption of his examination of Dante's mechanical workings, he didn't show it. Instead, he started back up on his commentary, though thankfully, by now, the Sinners were giving the Distortion several finishing blows. One glance at Vergilius told Dante that he was as, if not more, displeased at Siegfried’s constant chatter, the vein in his forehead throbbing.
“Sir Siegfried! Pray tell you saw my valiant battle!”
“Indeed, I did! You and your friends are a little sloppy, but it’s nothing some training couldn’t fix.”
Heathcliff looked like he wanted to say something, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. He threw Dante a ‘why is this bastard still here’ look, a look that Dante replied to with a helpless shrug.
“Back on the bus, all of you,” Vergilius said, cutting through the very animated conversation that Siegfried and Don Quixote had been having. “I don’t want to be in these filthy streets longer than I have to be.”
“Why are you out here, anyway?” Rodya asked.
“Dante was having some difficulty fending off a dog. I simply assisted them, that's all.”
“Executive Manager, you were attacked by a dog? Where did it go? I’ll-”
Dante caught a glimpse of Vergilius’ self-satisfied smirk as he boarded the bus, leaving Dante to attempt to explain what dog he had been talking about. They gave up quickly, instead ordering the Sinners onto the bus. With all the noise, they had barely noticed Siegfried standing in the back. He was being uncharacteristically quiet, making it surprisingly easy to miss him.
“Executive Manager, was it?”
< What do you want? > Dante finally asked, turning their PDA to Siegfried.
“I wondered how you communicated! Unfortunately, I’ve already spent as much time as I could afford to spare today, so I shall make this quick,” Siegfried shoved a small piece of paper into Dante’s hand. “You left quite the impression on some of the higher-ups. If you are ever in need of another place of employment, K Corp. would be happy to have you.”
Dante didn’t even get a chance to respond, Siegfried bounding off to God knows where and leaving Dante alone in the setting sun. They sighed, turning around and nearly jumping out of their skin when they saw Vergilius standing at the steps of Mephistopheles, an eyebrow raised.
“We don’t have all day, Dante.”
They hurried onto the bus after him, almost bumping into his back as he paused at the doors. He turned to them slowly, a strange look on his face. “I’d like to speak to you in my office after you dismiss the Sinners.”
The tone of his voice was solemn, and for the life of them, Dante could not think of a single thing they had done that could cause Vergilius to have such a reaction. Anxiety bubbled in their stomach as they dismissed the Sinners for the night. They were sure they had submitted everything on time and that there had even been fewer rewinds this Mirror Dungeon run than the last. Dante sighed, following the Sinners past the Backdoor. There was no point in speculating, they supposed.
Vergilius didn’t look up as Dante entered his office. He was reading something on the clipboard he always carried with him, tapping a pen against his chin as he did. He didn’t speak up, as if ignoring the fact that Dante had entered the room. They quickly grew agitated, ticking till they caught Vergilius’ attention.
“I hear you just fine, Dante.”
< Then stop ignoring me. >
Vergilius’ face remained unreadable as he skimmed over Dante’s message. “What did that oaf give you?”
Whatever Dante had been expecting him to ask them about, it wasn’t this. They cocked their head to the side, making Vergilius sigh. “Siegfried. What did he hand you?”
Dante had nearly forgotten about the piece of paper that the man had shoved into their hand. They dug through their pocket, removing a small piece of crumpled paper that they realized was a rather bare-looking business card. They smoothed it out, reading it before Vergilius cleared his throat. They handed it to him, still as confused as when they had first entered the room.
“... He gave you a business card for some researcher at K. Corp?”
< How should I know? I just got the chance to read it right now. >
Vergilius watched them carefully, as if some mechanical feature would betray them. Not there was anything to betray. Dante was well aware of their contract and even more aware of how much of a vital tool they were to Limbus Company. They knew there was close to nothing but death that could take them out of Limbus Company’s hands, and the company was not the type to so easily share their toys.
“You’re aware-”
< Yes, I know my contract can’t be terminated. >
Vergilius looked a little surprised at being interrupted, especially since Dante had done so by tapping his chest with the edge of their PDA. A troubled look still hung on Vergilius’ face, and Dante felt their irritation start to boil over.
He could play coy all they wanted, but sometimes Vergilius was an open book, especially when he felt emotions that he had long since thought he had given up. It wasn’t jealousy; Dante and Vergilius did not have any sort of relationship that would call for such an intimate and personal emotion. Perhaps instead, it was a sense of possessiveness that was eating at his morals. Either way, it was something that neither Dante nor Vergilius were keen on calling out.
Dante felt Vergilius tense as they put a hand on his arm. It was painfully silent for a second, that single touch saying more than either would dare say out loud. Silence, then the creaking of Vergilius’ office chair as Dante pushed him into it. Dante wasted no time, spreading Vergilius’ legs and running their hands over the expanse of his muscular thighs. He flinched, but quickly melted into the feeling as Dante squeezed his thigh. Their fingers dug into the muscle, pressing against a particularly sore spot and making Vergilius groan.
< Are you some sort of masochist? >
With how close Dante was to it, it was impossible to miss the growing tent in Vergilius’ pants. It was mostly a tease, but Vergilius glared at them all the same. Dante patted his thigh before starting to undo his pants. They moved agonizingly slow, testing their luck till Vergilius made an irritated noise, pushing their hands out of the way to free his own dick from the confines of his slacks. It nearly smacked Dante in the face, something that would’ve surely hurt Vergilius much more than it would’ve hurt Dante. Vergilius held it close to their face, and at times like these, Dante longed for a mouth. Even without it, they could feel themselves start to salivate as Vergilius slowly started to run his fist along the length of his dick.
“Are you content with just watching, Dante?”
They weren’t. They reached out, wrapping their own hand around Vergilius’. Though their hand was quite a bit smaller than his, they took control, moving his hand faster. Vergilius let out a hiss, wrist going slack as he let Dante set the pace. A sick part of Dante wanted to see how far they could push Vergilius until he snapped. It was rare to see the man let his guard down enough to be even the slightest bit vulnerable, and yet he was allowing Dante to play with him as they pleased. They could feel themselves start to harden in their own pants, and it took Dante everything in them not to rut against the floor.
Thankfully, Vergilius took notice, maneuvering them onto his desk. A cold, calloused hand slipped underneath their shirt, making a shiver run up their spine. It explored Dante’s torso, running fingers over the dips and ridges of muscle and scar, till it found its way to Dante’s chest, pushing their shirt up and flicking their nipple almost playfully. Growing more and more restless the more Vergilius toyed with them, Dante hooked their leg around his waist, pulling him close.
Dante could feel the warmth of Vergilius’ erection, even through their layers of clothing. They rolled their hips against him, gripping the edge of the desk to steady themselves as they began to rut against him. Vergilius eagerly met their hips, each graze and grind making Dante long for more. They started to move more feverishly, Vergilius dirtying Dante’s pants as he began to leak before suddenly pulling away.
“I’m not content with just rubbing against you like a teenager, Dante,” Vergilius said, hands fumbling for Dante’s belt. “Let me know if you want to stop.”
Vergilius removed Dante’s pants, revealing a wet spot where the tip of Dante’s dick dribbled against the cloth of their underwear. Vergilius hummed lowly as he feathered his fingers over their erection, relishing in the twitches he pulled out of Dante. The teasing touches continued until Dante made an irritated sound, making Vergilius smirk to himself before wordlessly bringing their hand to his mouth.
Lewdly, Vergilius worked his tongue over their fingers, coating each with saliva. He nibbled at the tip of their pointer finger, tempting Dante till they pushed in further. Vergilius gagged slightly, but stayed still, allowing Dante to press down on his tongue.
“Prepare yourself for me,” Vergilius breathed out around their fingers. Though the word ‘please’ did not come out of his mouth, the tone of his voice betrayed his desperation.
Dante removed their fingers, watching as a thin web of spit connected them, then broke, before hoisting themselves further onto Vergilius’ desk and throwing their underwear to the side. A wave of self-consciousness hit them as they spread their legs, reaching under to press against their hole, before pushing in, ignoring the feeling. It would be a lie to say they had never done this by themselves. In the countless, lonely nights, the feeling of Vergilius’ touch still lingered, and they couldn’t help but try to reach within themselves like he had done to them.
There was a hunger in Vergilius’ eyes, and Dante couldn’t help but think back to the look in Siegfried’s eyes. Unlike Siegfried, the hunger whirling in Vergilius’ gaze wasn't akin to that of a predator, but instead like the hunger of the moon as it pulls the sea towards itself, something it knows it can never have but longs to embrace nonetheless. He watched with hunger as Dante unraveled themselves for him and only him.
Keeping their gaze low, Dante felt Vergilius’ touch before they saw him move. They were unsure if Vergilius was aware of the look on his face, the look that betrayed the emotions he was so desperate to hide. It felt intimate, more intimate than Dante could ever hope to be with the man, so they looked away, not wanting to intrude.
They were a mess of limbs and hands as Vergilius pushed Dante down onto his desk. He guided himself into Dante gently, despite his clear desperation. Even as he began to lose himself, Vergilius refused to bring harm to Dante. Vergilius’ body began to shake as he bottomed out, causing Dante to wrap their arms around his neck and pull him closer. It seemed to snap Vergilius out of whatever hindrance was clouding his mind, his hips beginning to stir.
Breathy moans filled Dante’s head as Vergilius snapped his hips in and out of them, his voice wavering. It clouded their everything, fully engulfed by Vergilius as every inch of them trembled with perverse pleasure. His arms kept them caged to the desk, hiding them from any prying eyes, even if both of them knew there were none.
Vergilius punched wavering ticks from Dante as his movements became sloppy. He was nearly lying on top of them, pressing as much of his skin against theirs as he could. Slick covered his stomach as Dante rutted into him, but Vergilius paid it no mind. Nails dug into his skin, leaving long red marks as Dante came, making a mess on both of their stomachs as Vergilius snapped his hips one final time before spilling deep inside.
Dante could still feel the waves of their bodies as Vergilius pulled out. He looked completely fucked-out, sweat hanging onto his pale skin, and there was a slight rosy color to his cheeks. His chest heaved with each breath, and Dante felt like they were out of their mind as they pushed him back into his office chair. They clammered onto his lap, hands steading themselves on his shoulders as they sunk back down on his dick.
They wouldn’t have heard it if they hadn’t been so engrossed in watching Vergilius’ face strain with overstimulation. The tiniest whimper left his mouth, a noise Dante had never heard from him before, and it broke the last string of sanity they had in them. Ignoring their own overstimulation, they brought themselves down more fiercely, the office chair squeaking in protest under them.
< This is what you wanted, right? > Dante asked, though they knew Vergilius could not comprehend them.
Vergilius just bit his lip in response. Even if he could understand them, he wouldn’t grace them with a response. There was a mutual understanding that they were beings doomed to a narrative neither had control of. There was no use in yearning for something that was more than purely physical because it was out of their reach. Both condemned like the king of Sipylus, tortured to lay witness to things neither one of them could have.
Dante moved feverishly against Vergilius, desperate to rid themselves of the hollow feeling such thoughts brought them. He squeezed their waist, snapping his hips up to theirs, only making Dante retaliate by going faster. Their thighs burned with exhaustion, but they did not slow, pushing themselves till they felt Vergilius’ grip tighten as he came. Dante came soon afterwards, earning a few pained noises from Vergilius as they rode him till they were satiated, though he made no move to stop them. They fell limply against him, the aftershock of their orgasm leaving them breathless.
“There will be consequences if you managed to break my chair, Dante.”
Dante made a halfhearted whistle of indignation.
< You’re just as guilty as I am. >