Beginnings
Beginnings
Rating: PG for mild yaoi
Pairing: Griffon/Damien, implied Virgil/Damien
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction
Griffon generally wasn't the type to laugh out loud for any length of time, but Damien had left him borderline helpless.
He probably should have warned the demon about the results of stepping in snow; the sight of his foot disappearing into the cold had made Damien panic and start shrieking "White acid!" over and over. One would have thought - much like he did - that someone or something had chopped off his foot. It was only when Griffon went over and deliberately pulled his foot back out of the snow that Damien realised said appendage had not been eaten. The embarrassed little "Oh," that followed was the final trigger Griffon had needed to send him into fits of laughter.
It had taken a while for Griffon to calm down, his composure unused to being so broken, and upon settling he pulled the younger demon close, ruffling his hair. "You're a silly creature." He did his best to ignore a flash of silver up above them; Virgil was watching, but that was no surprise. Damien was a breath of fresh air on an island with so little to do, and the more sentient lifeforms had all displayed interest in him at some point. Only Virgil had become a little too obsessive, virtually hunting the pale demon whenever he had the chance. He enjoyed having something new and pliant in his world.
Griffon did not like the situation as it stood, but he could not stop Virgil watching from afar. Instead, he had claimed the task of introducing Damien to the world from the son of Sparda, and had been sheltering him ever since.
It had made sense, he supposed, for him to fall for Damien. The young demon was just too innocent, too curious, too perfect for it not to happen. It had unsettled him somewhat, but he had been dealing with it in his own way with stolen touches and slipping a few words too many into conversations.
"I want to go back inside," Damien sulked, unimpressed with snow and even less impressed by Griffon's laughter.
"First things first. Throw a snowball at me, then I'll let you back in."
It had never really occurred to Damien that he could actually go back in anytime he wanted and Griffon would be more or less powerless to stop him. "Where is a snowball?"
Griffon chuckled, picking up a bundle of snow in his hands and rolling it into the necessary shape before depositing the cold lump in Damien's hands and taking a few steps back.
Damien still looked deeply uncertain and distrusting of the snowball.
"Throw it. I promise, it won't do anything bad. There's no point in having snow if you're not going to have a snowball fight."
Damien frowned, closed his eyes, and pitched it, opening one eye slowly after hearing the impact followed by a muffled "Ow".
It was Damien's turn to laugh.
No matter how dignified or noble someone is, they cannot look anything short of silly with their glasses perched at a forty-five degree angle to their usual position. Griffon was no exception.
In between laughing, Damien walked forward and pulled off Griffon's glasses, wondering why he wasn't intimidated by Griffon's irritated expression for once. "You look different."
"That's because you're used to my glasses." Damien wasn’t' the only one either; Griffon felt awkward without his glasses, and not simply because any part of the world more than a metre from him became a blur. It was ironic, really, that a demon whose alternate form was a keen-eyed, three-headed bird required glasses. "Can I have them back?"
"No. I'm looking." Damien's fascinated, slightly cross-eyed study of the pinch marks on his nose and the lines either side of his eyes where the glasses had dug in wasn't helping his mood. "You have sad eyes, all amber and... sad, like in that book with the wolf."
The younger demon's proximity to him was starting to have a noticeable effect. He suspected it could be worse, though; Damien could always have been straddling his thighs.
And that was one line of thought he really could have done without.
"Damien, please. May I have my glasses back?"
Damien sighed and opened Griffon's hand, ready to press the glasses into it when Griffon's nose collided sharply with his forehead.
"Ow," Griffon exclaimed, despite his pride being more wounded than his nose. Moving in to kiss someone who was moving in a different direction to his mouth had not been wise.
"Griffon?"
And damn it all, damn it all to hell because that innocent, worried, caring look had been the very thing he most needed to avoid in this type of mood.
He moved in again.
Damien jerked at first, Griffon pulling back in embarrassment, but then the paler demon took the initiative and pressed his mouth again Griffon's once more, not moving away as he spoke in a voice muffled by his mentor's lips, "What'sh thish?"
"A kiss," Griffon answered, pressing Damien's lips open with his own and slipping in his tongue.
Damien's eyes snapped open and he pulled away, wiping at his tongue in disgust. "What was that?"
"A French kiss."
"I liked the English kiss better."
Griffon nodded, made a brief mental note to figure out where the term 'English kiss' had come from, then decided some thoughts really weren't worth the effort and kissed Damien again.
As it turned out, Damien didn't care about anything other than tongues, and as long as that rule was adhered to he could quite happily kiss until either one of them ran completely out of breath.
One thing did not lead to another though, and it was not until a few days later when Damien came in wielding a book and asking if this made Griffon his 'suitor' that Griffon had the chance to explain what had happened fully.
Still, Virgil had seen the kiss. More importantly, he had seen Damien reciprocate. Griffon had played his cards best, and while the older demon would have hated to use such a term, Virgil knew full well that Damien was Griffon's prize.
Virgil watched Damien's attachment to Griffon grow, and mused as to how to next shuffle the deck.
The End
Rating: PG for mild yaoi
Pairing: Griffon/Damien, implied Virgil/Damien
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction
Griffon generally wasn't the type to laugh out loud for any length of time, but Damien had left him borderline helpless.
He probably should have warned the demon about the results of stepping in snow; the sight of his foot disappearing into the cold had made Damien panic and start shrieking "White acid!" over and over. One would have thought - much like he did - that someone or something had chopped off his foot. It was only when Griffon went over and deliberately pulled his foot back out of the snow that Damien realised said appendage had not been eaten. The embarrassed little "Oh," that followed was the final trigger Griffon had needed to send him into fits of laughter.
It had taken a while for Griffon to calm down, his composure unused to being so broken, and upon settling he pulled the younger demon close, ruffling his hair. "You're a silly creature." He did his best to ignore a flash of silver up above them; Virgil was watching, but that was no surprise. Damien was a breath of fresh air on an island with so little to do, and the more sentient lifeforms had all displayed interest in him at some point. Only Virgil had become a little too obsessive, virtually hunting the pale demon whenever he had the chance. He enjoyed having something new and pliant in his world.
Griffon did not like the situation as it stood, but he could not stop Virgil watching from afar. Instead, he had claimed the task of introducing Damien to the world from the son of Sparda, and had been sheltering him ever since.
It had made sense, he supposed, for him to fall for Damien. The young demon was just too innocent, too curious, too perfect for it not to happen. It had unsettled him somewhat, but he had been dealing with it in his own way with stolen touches and slipping a few words too many into conversations.
"I want to go back inside," Damien sulked, unimpressed with snow and even less impressed by Griffon's laughter.
"First things first. Throw a snowball at me, then I'll let you back in."
It had never really occurred to Damien that he could actually go back in anytime he wanted and Griffon would be more or less powerless to stop him. "Where is a snowball?"
Griffon chuckled, picking up a bundle of snow in his hands and rolling it into the necessary shape before depositing the cold lump in Damien's hands and taking a few steps back.
Damien still looked deeply uncertain and distrusting of the snowball.
"Throw it. I promise, it won't do anything bad. There's no point in having snow if you're not going to have a snowball fight."
Damien frowned, closed his eyes, and pitched it, opening one eye slowly after hearing the impact followed by a muffled "Ow".
It was Damien's turn to laugh.
No matter how dignified or noble someone is, they cannot look anything short of silly with their glasses perched at a forty-five degree angle to their usual position. Griffon was no exception.
In between laughing, Damien walked forward and pulled off Griffon's glasses, wondering why he wasn't intimidated by Griffon's irritated expression for once. "You look different."
"That's because you're used to my glasses." Damien wasn’t' the only one either; Griffon felt awkward without his glasses, and not simply because any part of the world more than a metre from him became a blur. It was ironic, really, that a demon whose alternate form was a keen-eyed, three-headed bird required glasses. "Can I have them back?"
"No. I'm looking." Damien's fascinated, slightly cross-eyed study of the pinch marks on his nose and the lines either side of his eyes where the glasses had dug in wasn't helping his mood. "You have sad eyes, all amber and... sad, like in that book with the wolf."
The younger demon's proximity to him was starting to have a noticeable effect. He suspected it could be worse, though; Damien could always have been straddling his thighs.
And that was one line of thought he really could have done without.
"Damien, please. May I have my glasses back?"
Damien sighed and opened Griffon's hand, ready to press the glasses into it when Griffon's nose collided sharply with his forehead.
"Ow," Griffon exclaimed, despite his pride being more wounded than his nose. Moving in to kiss someone who was moving in a different direction to his mouth had not been wise.
"Griffon?"
And damn it all, damn it all to hell because that innocent, worried, caring look had been the very thing he most needed to avoid in this type of mood.
He moved in again.
Damien jerked at first, Griffon pulling back in embarrassment, but then the paler demon took the initiative and pressed his mouth again Griffon's once more, not moving away as he spoke in a voice muffled by his mentor's lips, "What'sh thish?"
"A kiss," Griffon answered, pressing Damien's lips open with his own and slipping in his tongue.
Damien's eyes snapped open and he pulled away, wiping at his tongue in disgust. "What was that?"
"A French kiss."
"I liked the English kiss better."
Griffon nodded, made a brief mental note to figure out where the term 'English kiss' had come from, then decided some thoughts really weren't worth the effort and kissed Damien again.
As it turned out, Damien didn't care about anything other than tongues, and as long as that rule was adhered to he could quite happily kiss until either one of them ran completely out of breath.
One thing did not lead to another though, and it was not until a few days later when Damien came in wielding a book and asking if this made Griffon his 'suitor' that Griffon had the chance to explain what had happened fully.
Still, Virgil had seen the kiss. More importantly, he had seen Damien reciprocate. Griffon had played his cards best, and while the older demon would have hated to use such a term, Virgil knew full well that Damien was Griffon's prize.
Virgil watched Damien's attachment to Griffon grow, and mused as to how to next shuffle the deck.
The End