fanfic100 - 056. Breakfast/100songs - 003. IABL...
Title: Most Important Meal Of The Day
Fandom: Devil May Cry 3
Characters: Dante
Prompt: 056. Breakfast / 003. It's A Beautiful Life / 002. Milk / 18. "There will be death."
Word Count: 1571
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dante tries to spend a quiet morning in. Dante forgets embarrassing Vergil the night before. Dante hurts. A lot.
Author's Notes: Because those boys have a charmed life. Seriously. This is what happens when I try to write on no sleep. :) X-posted like a mutha. Also, written for purgatory, because she wanted me to use the prompt "Breakfast" a while back, and I couldn't work up any inspiration for it. UNTIL NOW.
It had started out simple enough. Dante, for whatever reason (and one he wouldn't be able to recall later, due to the severe head trauma he suffered), had decided to actually eat breakfast for once. And not just any breakfast; he decided to go all out and actually make it himself, so he wouldn't have to leave his little hole in the wall he called a shop and home. He was going to have a quiet morning in, dammit, because it was something he never indulged in, always being on the go for this reason or that.
However, he'd forgotten the embarrassment he'd caused his elder twin the night before, what with the whole pantsing him (on accident, he'd swear) in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. He hadn't even seen Vergil, and had just grabbed onto the first thing he'd come into contact with, after being tripped by some little punk with too much time on his hands. He'd grabbed, the pants had come down, he'd looked up, and he'd known he was in some serious trouble. His head still rang a little from the beating he'd taken from that.
Oh, but he knew Vergil hadn't completely extracted his revenge yet. He just...Simply wasn't thinking about it, at all.
And he was just getting ready to settle down with breakfast at his desk, as the double front doors flew open, having obviously been kicked. He paused there, glass of milk halfway to his mouth, as he noted that, backed by the sun like he was, Vergil looked like a giant, pissed off porcupine, before Vergil stomped inside, already wagging a finger at his younger brother.
"Well, well. Look who drug-ass down to the ghetto to see his little brother. Ain't that sweet." Dante smirked then, before...Completely ignoring the elder, with breakfast being more important.
And did he ever know he was in trouble when Vergil didn't pounce and beat first, ask questions later; instead pausing in his stomping across the empty space between the door and the desk, hand dropping to his side as a smile played about his mouth. Did he ever, indeed. But he wasn't going to look worried, as he picked up a piece of toast, waving it slightly side to side as he kicked back in his chair, grinning himself. The best policy with Vergil was to show no weakness whatsoever, and he tried to do that. Really, he did.
"What can I do ya for, bro?" And it was said so flippantly, and he gave Vergil the most curious look he could, munching at the toast complacently. He was about to be in for the asskicking of his life. He could just feel it. The least he could do would be to make it worth it.
"You." Vergil, instead of going for the throat, clasped his hands behind him, and began a slow, methodical trek to the desk, boots thumping heavily on purpose across the floor as he did so. "You. Oh, Dante, why...Why must you be so blatantly retarded?"
Dante blinked innocently, going for the milk again, inwardly rolling his eyes. He hated Vergil's little mind games. It'd be easier to just get the beating over with and call it a day. "Me? Why, I'm sure I have absolutely no idea what on earth you're talking about, brother o' mine."
"Uh huh." Vergil paused at the corner of the desk, tapping a finger upon its surface before flattening his palm there and leaning forward, close enough that Dante felt it imperative to lean back. "You know why."
Which was why Dante dropped the stupid act, brows drawing together. "Man, you got yours last night. Out of the face." And with that, reached up with his free hand and planted it right in Vergil's face, giving him a shove backward.
Oh. Oh. Yes, he'd went there, and the realization of that was written all over Vergil's face, as he was forced back, before he scowled darkly, eyes narrowing dangerously. From behind Dante's long, monkey-like fingers, still sprawled all over his face, before the younger twin gave a harder shove, breaking the contact. And...Went back to his breakfast, as though he hadn't just committed an unforgivable crime against Vergil's face. Who knew where those filthy hands had been? Vergil could venture a few guesses, and none of them included things that he would want offending his face so.
"You...You retarded little sheep boy. I am going to skin you." Dante just nodded complacently, already back to chewing the toast he'd still held in his other hand, as though Vergil wasn't there at all. "I am going to make you bleed. There will be death." And Dante's free hand waved in cadance to Vergil's words, without a care in the world.
"Yeah, yeah, tell me something you have-" A loud, resounding smack filled the office, and echoed off the walls, before it was followed by another, and that was absolutely it, as far as Dante was concerned. His chair scraped back, and he flung himself bodily at Vergil, intending on knocking the fucker just straight over, and then he was going to beat his head into the floor. Repeatedly. No one, and but no one, got away with bitchslapping Dante.
Only...It didn't go quite the way he'd imagined it, and as they went down together, somehow their positions ended up reversed, and Vergil ended up on top, and that was just wrong, and Dante squirmed to get out from underneath him; but not before Vergil had grabbed a handful of the front of Dante's hair, yanking him slightly upward. "You bastard, gonna kill you."
"Uh huh." Another backhanded slap was delivered, before Vergil slammed Dante's head into the floor, making the younger twin seethe with the spike of pain that shot through his skull. "This, brother, will teach you to take your beating like a man, and not whine like the little baby you are. And to watch who the hell you pants in public." Another slam, and Dante's hands were moving, despite the blurry-eyed pain (fucker had fractured his skull), groping around on Vergil for something to hurt.
One hand found a nipple, and gave it a hard, unforgiving twist, while the other wormed two fingers up Vergil's nostrils, forcing his head back with them as he did so. "Gonna...Butcher you...You fucktard...And finish my goddamn breakfast." And he managed that between his head slamming repeatedly into the floor, huffing and puffing and seething and refusing to whine, though he wanted to because that shit was starting to really hurt.
"Little bastard." It came out strange, as Dante's fingers were still stuffed up his nose, but Vergil didn't care. Stupid little bastard had violated his face, and that was that. "Kill you. Kill you dead." Forget the fact that Dante still had his nipple in a vise-like clamp, Vergil didn't care. His face had been violated.
And so it went on, for another good five minutes, as they slapped, pinched, and just...Utterly violated one another as they scuffled on the floor, before Dante got his leg hooked around Vergil's for leverage and flipped them, so that he was on top, only them removing his fingers from Vergil's nostrils. "Fatass," he spat, moving to plant his knees against Vergil's shoulders. "Stop being such a pig, you heavy-ass bastard." And with that, he reached back and just slapped Vergil as hard as he could, open-palmed, right on the side of his face. It was loud, over their heavy breathing and in the aftermath, Dante sat there, as it sunk in. He'd just slapped Vergil. Which meant Vergil would be pissed.
As if the fact that Vergil's eyes were quickly changing from blue to red didn't clue him into that enough.
And then he was scrambling to get away from Vergil, feet kicking Vergil all in the face as he did so, before finding some traction to get moving, hearing Vergil clatter to his own feet behind him. And Dante took off, for the stairs. If he could just beat Vergil up there, it would all be okay. He could activate the wards he had set around the door, and the elder twin wouldn't be able to touch him. Which was why he hauled ass for it, tromping up the stairs, kicking down the random objects that littered them behind him, to trip the elder up.
Later, when Dante regained consciousness, and in a sticky, dried pool of his own blood at the bottom of the stairs, he had to admit that that hadn't gone so well. He was healed, sure. Filthy, sore, but he was in one piece. He still had all his limbs. Vergil had gone easy on him that time. Then again, it had only been a pantsing and a slap, so that didn't warrant limb removal. That time.
And, as he pried himself from the floor, with a sick, suctioning sound, before stumbling against the wall as the world swam around him, his fucking breakfast had gone to waste. Really, now that was something to be pissed about.
It's probably a good thing I write to waste time and not for reviews, huh? *snickers* Yeah.