Work Text:
Vergil takes a look at the spreadsheets and sighs. He’s been going over the contents for half an hour now. The little clock in the back of his head keeps ticking. He adjusts his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger, then taps on the desk.
Damn it.
The clock stops at six, and Vergil immediately gets up from his chair. His ears ring. The taste of black coffee still lingers in his mouth. He grabs his coat and heads for the door until Mundus stops him in his tracks.
“You know the evaluation is due at midnight, right?”
“Yes,” Vergil replies dryly. His head is starting to ache from the flickering lights and his boss’s grating, nasal voice.
“Then why are you clocking out so early?”
“I’ll finish it at my place.”
“You’ll finish it here,” Mundus says. Vergil suppresses the urge to answer an I can do this in five damn minutes, I just need some coffee, but forces a smile, turns on his heel, and sits back down at his desk. Well, there goes his hope of arriving early today.
Again.
…
He did finish everything in half an hour. The problem was that he had left during the worst rush hour known to mankind, and despite working so close to the metro, he wouldn't be able to make it in time to his apartment.
There’s a homeless man next to him shooting him sideways glances and a group of loud teenagers blocking his view. Vergil grumbles. He had forgotten his headphones on the desk. The much-dreaded tide of commuters he might have avoided by leaving an hour earlier begins to clog the station’s walkways
He grabs his phone from his pocket and checks the time. He sighs. Someone next to him snorts.
“I wouldn’t have my phone out right now if I were you." His voice is low and teasing, almost a purr. Vergil turns to find a guy just a bit shorter than him. A smirk. An unnerving, intense stare. Vergil shoves the phone back into his pocket without another word.
“Oh, come on. I was just joking.” The guy leans closer. Vergil gives him an annoyed look from the corner of his eye and tries to put a little more distance between them. It doesn’t work. In fact, despite the lack of space, the guy inches closer.
“Real funny, kid.”
Something about this guy makes the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It’s the smile, the unwavering fixation of his gaze, and an unsettling sense of familiarity Vergil cannot place. It activates his fight or flight response.
“Someone’s in a bad mood, huh?”
“You seem remarkably interested in my business.”
The guy doesn’t even flinch. He laughs, tips his head back, and holds Vergil’s gaze for what feels like an eternity.
“I’m Dante, by the way,” he purrs. Vergil affords him only a brief glance from the corner of his eye. His heart is pounding. He swallows, acutely aware of the scant distance between his knees and the—honest to God—annoying dude.
He feels it—the lingering, intent stare. The kid is on the border of invading his personal space. Of course, the kid—Dante, apparently—is playing it cool.
Vergil doesn’t buy it. He takes a few steps to his left, unwilling to end the day having been pickpocketed. The subway arrives just as Dante is approaching him again; Vergil waits only long enough for the doors to open before slipping inside.
Despite getting on quickly, Vergil is unable to find a free place to sit. Already resigned to arriving home with a vicious ache in his back, he grabs onto the nearest stanchion, supporting his entire body weight on it.
“That was rude of you, old man,” Dante says, too close to his ear.
The warmth at his nape and the unexpected press of a body against his back startle him. Vergil quickly tries to move away from the boy, but the crush of bodies around him affords him scarcely an inch of room. Any attempt to carve out even a little space only leaves him pressed more firmly against Dante’s chest.
Vergil snorts, pressing his forehead against the cold metal. A migraine blooms behind his eyes, hammering at his temples every time the stupid Game Boy lets out a beep.
“Would you mind turning it off?” Vergil says through clenched teeth.
The console beeps again, causing Vergil’s vein to throb in his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dante engrossed in his game of Super Mario Land, apparently heedless of anything beyond the screen.
Two more beeps, and Vergil has had enough. He elbows the boy, causing the Game Boy to jolt in his hands.
“Hey!” Dante complains. “What’s that for?”
“I can tolerate either your intrusion into my personal space or that infernal game. I cannot tolerate both.”
A smile forms on Dante’s lips. “And you chose to get rid of the noise, huh?”
Vergil huffs. “You know perfectly well that is not what I meant.”
“Aw, it’s okay. I have no problem keeping you company.”
“I’d rather you—” Vergil’s words die as Dante pushes his hips against his back.
Vergil freezes, eyes wide, hands firmly pressed against the rail. Cold metal cutting into his hand. There’s something pressing against his behind, and Vergil sure hopes it’s a wallet.
“What are you intending to do?” Vergil stutters, his voice turning into a pathetic whimper. He looks over his shoulder—no one is paying them any attention. His heart thuds.
“Me? Nothin’,” Dante whispers in his ear. His breath is warm against his skin. It makes something pool at the pit of his stomach.
Vergil swallows. He’s still. Eyes firmly on the window in front of him. He’s trembling ever so slightly, but he doesn’t put too much on his part to stop it either. There are just too many people to cause a scene.
Dante grinds his hips against him. The movement is slow, deliberate. The something pressing against him is definitely not a wallet.
“What are you exactly planning here?” Vergil whispers. His voice comes out shaky. Dante’s breathing heavily against his ear, and his hand sneaks near Vergil’s crotch. His coat is big enough to cover the movement, and despite the adrenaline, Vergil doesn’t stop him.
“C’mon,” Dante urges. His voice gets deeper. It makes Vergil’s skin crawl. “Relax. Just let me…"
He doesn’t finish the sentence and growls at the last word. The movement gets a bit more desperate. Vergil tries to push him away, but it just makes the friction get more intense. The thing is—the kid isn’t even holding him in place. His hands are just barely hovering over the fabric of his pants, his fingers slowly inching near the zip of Vergil’s pants. Vergil chokes with his own saliva.
Dante chuckles and doesn’t finish the sentence. Vergil could push him away. Really. He’s taller. Probably stronger. He could just tell him to fuck right off and expose him for being a degenerate. Vergil lets out a shaky sigh instead.
It’s baffling, truly. There’s something deeply wrong with the kid (and maybe with Vergi himself, but that’s a conversation for another day). He watches over his shoulder and realizes no one is even looking. Headphones. Bored gazes through Instagram feeds. Dante’s somewhat manic giggle against his ear as his fingers slip through the waistband of Vergil’s pants.
Vergil full-on freezes now. His heart is beating so loud it’s the only thing he can hear.
“Well, that’s new,” Dante says, the cheeky bastard, his voice sounding even hungrier now. Vergil chokes on his saliva, tries to push him away, but Dante’s grip gets tighter. “‘Been hiding all this for me, Verg?”
Vergil bites back some words. His blood burns under his skin, especially where Dante’s fingers dig into his flesh. It’s the mix of shame and adrenaline twisting in his guts. It’s the fire brewing underneath.
He starts to tremble. A whine threatens to escape his lips. Vergil closes his eyes, trying to keep a steady breathing rhythm. His knees weaken. And, to his horror, he realizes he’s starting to get wet.
“Holy shit,” Dante hisses against his ear, barely audible. He has stopped grinding, but his fingers are still teasing Vergil’s crotch.
His hips move before his mind can stop him. Vergil is actually pushing his hips against Dante’s fingers.
Dante rests his head on Vergil’s shoulders. The grinding starts again. Short, little desperate thrusts that, if someone were looking hard enough, it would be impossible to conceal this as anything else from what it is.
Vergil suppresses a growl and spreads his legs a bit wider. His heart is thumping in his chest. He could so easily kick the kid in the balls, maybe turn around, grab him by the throat.
“Fuck,” Dante hisses, right in his ear. He has stopped teasing his cunt to tighten his grip on Vergil’s waist, and the friction—the heat. Dante’s breath on his throat. The pressure.
Dante stills behind him and curses under his breath. The grip becomes stronger than ever, and the friction resumes for a second before stopping altogether.
Vergil blinks a couple of times in shock. Dante snickers and straightens his back like nothing has ever happened.
“Well, that was rather quick,” Vergil mutters.
“What? Do you want even more, hm?”
Vergil grumbles, feeling the tip of his ears warm up. The laughter makes Dante’s chest vibrate.
Vergil’s legs are trembling. The contact has stopped, sure, but Dante remains disgustingly close, almost breathing down his neck. His hand now lingers near Vergil’s crotch, resting, yet not providing any sort of meaningful friction, and Vergil is dripping wet. His cunt pulses, clutching around nothing. He has to consciously stop his hips from moving against Dante’s hand.
He focuses on his breathing instead, then takes a look at the window and curses. He’s bound to get off the train in a couple more stops. The people around them start to dissipate once the train stops at the first station, and Vergil finally steps away and gives the kid a frown.
Vergil walks until he’s far away enough from the kid to let himself breathe. His chest is still moving somewhat erratically, and the pulse is ringing in his ears. He catches another glimpse of him from the corner of his eye. Dante’s gaze on him, a smirk curling his lips. There’s not an ounce of shame on the dude’s whole body, and Vergil has never wanted to choke someone to death so badly in his entire life.
The train stops. Vergil sighs and walks out, looking back from time to time to make sure he’s not getting followed.
He’s not. Vergil shrugs and hurries to the building, five blocks away. The little hairs on the back of his neck remain up, and his heart keeps beating to the same unnaturally fast rhythm even though he’s safe.
While he’s walking, he can feel the slick soaking through his boxers. Vergil wrinkles his nose and adjusts his jacket, utterly disgusted. The shame churns in his lower stomach; the anger follows close behind.
The streets grow progressively worse-lit as he walks by. All the stores and houses are closed, and the few and far between passersby keep their gazes fixed ahead, hands tightly placed over their pockets. Vergil lets out a humorless laugh.
He runs his tongue over his chapped lower lip and winces. The migraine is getting worse, Vergil can tell. He decides to stop at a nearby convenience store and buys a can of Coke and a pack of cigarettes. Some Tylenol, too, even though he knows it won’t do anything for him.
The Coke is warm at best, but it doesn’t really matter. He swallows two pills and leaves the cigarettes for later. It’s cold outside. His feet are burning. His boxers are sticky, and he can’t wait to take his stupid work clothes off.
The streetlight in front of the building flickers. Vergil exhales and fumbles for the keys in his jacket’s pockets. The door creaks as it opens, and Vergil shuts it behind him. He takes a deep breath and starts loosening his tie.
He takes the elevator this time, even though his unit is on the second floor. It reeks of mildew and urine, and he wonders how far gone someone can be to piss in an elevator, of all places.
The doors open. Vergil steps out, his keys in one hand, and the nearly empty can of Coke in the other. He reaches his apartment and notices the welcome mat is tilted. He sighs, nudges it straight with his feet, then proceeds to get into his apartment and turn on the lights.
He freezes on the doorframe. In his living room, sprawled out on the couch, it’s him. Vergil’s mouth dries up. Dante’s pants are pulled down to the middle of his thighs, and he’s lazily stroking his cock with one hand; the other is holding one of Vergil’s boxers close to it.
They make eye contact. Dante smirks, keeps stroking, now biting his lower lip.
“Took you some time,” Dante says.
“How did you get in here?”
“You always leave your spare key near the carpet outside,” he replies. “Aw, you didn’t recognize me at the metro? You break my heart.”
“Leave immediately,” Vergil hisses. His eyes are fixed on his cock—which looks bigger than what he felt on the metro. Red. Leaking pre-cum on Vergil’s own boxers. His cunt starts clenching involuntarily. “This is no laughing matter, kid. Leave now, or I’ll call the authorities."
Dante grunts at it, closing his eyes, as if he hasn’t even heard him. “Jesus, Verg. I could feel how wet your pussy got from it.”
Vergil starts tapping his jacket to find his phone. The can of Coke falls to the floor, and some of it spills on the carpet.
Dante chuckles. “Why don’t you kick me out yourself, hmm?”
He takes a few steps closer until he’s leaning almost on top of him. Dante throws his head back and groans.
“You have about zero survival instincts,” Vergil says, approaching him. Dante pulls him down by the coat until Vergil’s on his knees, right in front of him.
“Don’t you dare touch me, fool.” Vergil is breathing heavily near Dante’s mouth. “There’s something deeply wrong with you.”
Dante laughs, brings him closer. “I’m not the one whose pussy gets dripping fuckin’ wet when groped by a stranger.”
“Shut up, freak,” Vergil hisses. “Were you following me?”
“Yeah,” Dante says. “Every day. For weeks.”
His voice gets breathier, shaky. Almost needy.
A groan dies in Vergil’s throat. “You’re a disgusting pervert.”
“Uh-huh.”
And the kid’s way stronger than he looks, because Vergil ends up on the floor, with Dante on top of him. Mouth on his neck. Hands on Vergil’s chest. Vergil’s eyes dart to the carpet, where his worn boxer lies.
There’s an easy way to solve this. Vergil’s taller. Stronger. Older. A mouth clashes against his, and Vergil gasps out of shock, which Dante takes advantage of by pushing his tongue in without missing a beat.
Vergil hisses again, his hips moving up instinctively. He hasn’t reached an orgasm in probably months and much more time if you’re only counting by the hands of another person. His body betrays him by making his pussy ache when Dante places his hand on Vergil’s rear.
“Get off me.”
“Please, Mommy," Dante whispers. He sounds desperate. “I just want a taste.”
Vergil shivers from the mix of disgust and arousal. He refuses to reply, which makes the kid move his mouth to Vergil’s neck and slip his hands under his shirt.
Dante is rutting against him like a horny dog, leaking pre-cum on Vergil’s leg. Vergil curses under his breath, snaps his head to the side, which just gives Dante more access to his neck.
“Been driving me crazy for so long,” Dante continues. “Ever since I first saw you. Couldn’t hold it for more time.”
“So you had to break into my house like a lunatic?”
“Not the first time,” he says. “Jesus. I need to fuck you so damn bad.”
“Naive of you to think I’d let you, kid.”
“You don’t want it?” Dante teases, grazing his teeth against Vergil’s throat. “You sure about that?”
Dante slides down until he’s facing Vergil’s crotch. He fumbles with his belt and his pants and slides them until Vergil’s left in his boxers.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Vergil’s running out of breath. He even spreads his legs further to give Dante more space. His hand falls tentatively on Dante’s shoulder.
“Well, I’ve spent months thinking about sucking your cock, but either way I ain’t complaining,” Dante chuckles. “Even better for me.”
“You need to learn a thing or two about closing your mouth from time to time.”
“I can put it to better use.” Dante flutters his eyelashes, then nuzzles his nose on the front of Vergil’s boxers. There’s a wet spot forming on the light grey piece of fabric, which Dante glances at with curious eyes. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
He teases it with the pad of his index and middle fingers. Vergil bites back a moan.
“See?”
There’s no time to push him back—or react. Dante places his mouth on the wet spot on his boxers and starts teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His grip on Vergil’s hips gets tighter. It’s too much. The heat on his lower stomach spreads to the rest of his body, making him squirm.
Vergil’s hand lands on Dante’s hair, but he doesn’t pull it. His legs are starting to tremble. He holds himself on his elbows and takes a deep breath as Dante groans against it.
Soon enough, his boxers end up somewhere in the room, while Dante forces Vergil’s legs open; he starts diving right in, just licking and groaning against his pussy. Nose pressed against his pubic hair. Vergil starts feeling light-headed.
“Your pussy gets so fuckin’ wet for me,” Dante teases. “I barely touched you, and you’re already dripping.”
He gives Vergil no time to reply. As soon as Dante finishes speaking, his tongue gets into his cunt with no warning. Vergil lets out a little shocked gasp, which apparently just makes Dante bolder, filthier. He’s eating his pussy with an eagerness Vergil hasn’t felt from anyone ever before.
Vergil hates the way his body reacts to it. He squirms and whimpers, not fighting, not pushing away; in fact, his hips push against the contact before he can stop himself. He’s trembling. The fire in his lower stomach and the way his mind clouds, leaving everything behind but the sensations and the sheer need.
“Get off me, kid.”
His voice comes out as a pathetic whisper. Too broken, shaky, and needy to be taken seriously. Vergil tries again. “Seriousuly. Let me go now.”
Dante pushes two fingers in, along with his tongue. No previous signal. No nothing. Just doing what he wants with his body. Vergil lets out a slight yelp from the intrusion—it's more mental than anything. His cunt is actually taking it so well, clenching around them in a way that’s almost greedy.
Hurts. It’s too much and too little at the same time. The little bolts of pleasure are ripped off his body. Forced through. Vergil tries not to reflect it, though. His lips are sealed shut. His breathing had become heavier, but that’s about it.
Dante’s rough, obviously inexperienced. Too eager for his own good, just like any hormonal teenage boy. The mere thought is disgusting. Vergil shouldn’t be turned on by it.
“Your pussy drives me crazy,” Dante says. He’s still fucking him with his fingers, now trying to maintain eye contact. “Can’t wait to fill it with my cum.”
There’s a snarky reply on his tongue, but he bites it back when Dante adds yet another finger inside him, making his pussy slick even more.
“God, you love this,” Dante decides. “Maybe I can make you come like this? Just from my fingers?” He sounds more excited and curious than anything else.
“If you let me go, I won’t— ” Vergil closes his mouth right back to suppress a moan. “Don’t. Won’t. Press. Charges.”
Talking is futile. Dante just gets visibly hornier when Vergil fights back, which just makes the fingering rougher. In a normal context, he would’ve pushed whoever was doing it and told them they suck at it, but for some reason, he’s enjoying the mix of pleasure and pain.
“I think I can,” Dante mumbles, now returning to pay attention to Vergil’s clit. He starts by sucking it slowly, which makes the thrusts with his fingers less coordinated and clumsier and somewhat infinitely better.
A moan escapes him. Then another. Then Vergil has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself.
“Close already?” Dante laughs.
Truth is—he’s getting there. Vergil closes his eyes and tries to think about anything else. His boss. His shitty apartment. All the due bills are going to eat up a big part of his salary. Any of it works. Dante keeps sucking on his clit and fingering him in that specific way that’s making him lose his mind.
The orgasm is sudden. His whole body trembles with it. The unexpected wave makes his eyes roll back into his skull, and he ends up pushing Dante’s head even closer to his cunt.
“Did you come?” Dante asks, half-thrilled, half-curious. His fingers are still inside him.
Vergil gives him an annoyed look. Instead, he takes advantage of his sudden confusion to push him away. He tries to stand up, but Dante pins him to the floor. Bulge pressing against his bare ass. Vergil hisses.
“Nope.”
“Is that seriously your choice of words right now?”
Dante chuckles, but his tone takes a darker edge when Vergil realizes he’s actually unbuttoning his pants with his free hand. Vergil tries to look over his shoulder, but Dante pushes his head down against the carpet.
Then, Vergil feels it—the tip of his cock forcing its way into his cunt. Vergil lets out a little pained groan. It feels way bigger like this, and he hasn’t even gotten his whole dick inside him. He’s sensitive from the recent orgasm and, hell, he’s never taken a dick this size before.
“It’s not going to fit,” Vergil warns, slightly panicked.
Dante groans. “Fuck. That’s hot. Just like in the pornos.”
Well, it does fit, after some trying. Dante pushes it all the way in, and Vergil’s so stretched. Some tears roll down his cheeks. He shoves it in a singular thrust. It burns. Vergil claws at the carpet, helpless.
Dante doesn’t wait for Vergil to get used to it. He starts fucking right away. Using his body to get off. He’s rough, somewhat uncoordinated. A sob escapes through Vergil’s lips, and Dante hisses under his breath.
Vergil’s so wet. Wetter he’s ever been. It’s disgusting. His cunt takes all of the abuse, and the worst part of it, Vergil finds himself moaning. His teeth press against his lower lip, in yet another pathetic attempt to keep the sounds in check.
“See? You’re taking it all,” Dante mocks. “And you love it.”
Another hard thrust. Vergil whimpers. His head starts swimming. Not a single thought in his mind, but the mixture of pleasure, pain, and disgust he’s feeling. His knees start to weaken, but Vergil holds his posture as best as he can.
“Look at that arch,” Dante says, lust pouring through his tone. “Better than any fuckin’ jerk off fantasy I had.”
“Did you…?” Vergil bites his lips. The coherent, full sentence is formed in the back of his mind, but it disappears as soon as another thrust makes his eyes roll into his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Such a tight pussy,” Dante coos. “I’ll fill it up with so much cum, Mommy. You think it’s gonna take?”
I’m not on birth control, Vergil panics. He manages to mutter it out loud, but it’s too late. He’s already getting fucked raw, and Dante’s so deep in him.
“Fuck. Feels too fucking good,” Dante grunts. “Gonna fill you up.”
“No,” Vergil groans. Yes. Yes. His whole body is begging for it. It hurts so good; it’s the only thing he can think about.
Vergil starts pushing his hips back. Just seeking more. Even if Dante is fucking him in a way that feels more like getting used like a hole than fucked. He tastes his own salty tears and finds himself moaning.
“Oh, my God, Mommy. I’m so close.”
Vergil looks over his shoulder. The panic increases. So does the lust and the pain mixed with pleasure. Vergil shakes his head—Dante keeps going. Thrusting. Using. Abusing.
“Pull it out.”
“I can’t,” Dante whispers. His fingers dig into the flesh of Vergil’s thighs. “Jesus, Verg. I can’t—”
Vergil feels Dante’s cock pulsing inside him. Dante lets out a drawn-out moan against his ear, and reduces the pace, still thrusting occasionally.
“Got it so deep,” Dante babbles. “Gonna keep fucking you until it takes.”
Well, that’s the thing about teenage boys. Or at least, this one. Another wave of lust disguised as disgust courses through Vergil.
Dante pulls off, just a few inches away, and Vergil feels the semen running down his thighs. It’s so much. Vergil feels feverish.
Dante pushes some of the cum into Vergil’s cunt with the tip of his cock, then pushes himself in. He ends up holding Vergil down and fucking his semen into his pussy.
Vergil tries. He really does. A weak cry comes out of his lips, and before he knows, he’s squirting all over his carpet. The orgasm is so strong he can’t hold in the sobs.
“Holy shit, Verg,” Dante hisses. “Who would’ve known you were such a slut.”
Vergil’s too tired to fire up a reply. Instead, he rolls to his side and lets Dante pull out in peace. His legs are still shaky, and he’s struggling to get enough air into his system. From the corner of his eye, he notices the kid scrambling from his clothes.
“Shit. It’s eight already. Mom is going to kill me.”
Vergil laughs, breathless. “I’m surprised you have a curfew.”
“Shut up,” Dante groans. “Hell. I’m so dead.”
Dante manages to get dressed in record time, then kneels down next to Vergil, who’s still panting on the carpet. He cups Vergil’s face and leaves a quick peck on his lips.
“You were awesome,” Dante purrs. “Best laid of my life. See you tomorrow?”
“Are you mental?”
Dante tilts his head. “Didn’t you like it? It’s the first time I've made someone squirt! Pretty good, ey?”
Vergil sighs. The carpet is a mess. Cleaning it would take approximately an hour, maybe even more. Twelve more hours to get it dry. “Get on your way, kid.”
He should change the locks. Maybe next week.