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Untouched
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How long has it been since they last touched in other without the intent to harm or injure? How many years?
Dante can't remember; either he blocked out any such memories from the past or he simply forgot with time. It didn't matter anyway, not in the long run, and certain not right now, in this moment.
They were home, in Dante's shop. It was the dead of night and they were the only ones there. Hours, maybe even days, of sleep and a few showers had passed since their return and Dante was starved. Not for food, or sex per se, but for Vergil's touch. His hands anywhere, everywhere on Dante's body, stroking, caressing, just feeling him.
Both of them were naked and there was no doubt that they'd be fucking tonight, but right now the only thing they wanted to do was merely touch one another. It started not long after entering the underworld; an accidental brushing of shoulders caused sparks and sensations that Dante hadn't felt in a good while, and it also stirred a deeper desire within him. A desire that no amount of food or sex would satisfy.
Neither he or Vergil had constant companionship in their lives. It wasn't something they ever thought they needed or wanted, both believing they were fine on their own. But with Vergil restored and not as much of an asshat as usual, something stirred inside Dante when they touched for the first time in what felt like forever. That normal, practically insignificant touch woke something within him, a craving that rushed to the forefront of his mind and dwelled there for far too long.
He wasn't the only one who felt it; Vergil had too. The look on his face said as much to Dante. Perplexed and curiois, Vergil tested whatever the hell was going on between them during their duration in the underworld. A soft, gentle touch to Dante's hand or arm; a pat on the back or shoulder; intertwining their fingers; any small touch that Vergil could think of he did, and each time ended in the same result as the first. Sparks flying, dancing really, across their flesh while something inside of them longed to extend the contact.
They were touch starved.
It was a realization that threw both of them for a loop. In all of the years, after all of the fighting and battles, this was happening. While Vergil longed to understand the why, Dante merely accepted it, though a bit hesitantly in the beginning. Truthfully, it clicked for him. After all, they were twins and had a special kind of bond; it's just that that bond had changed and was steering them on a different course. Years of loneliness, isolation, and neglected feelings bubbled up to the surface in rapid succession. But doing anything in the underworld that might jeopardize their reforged relationship was risky. Their enemies, though weaker than them, could take advantage of any sort of opening or weakness they saw. Vergil didn't want to risk anything, and Dante couldn't blame him.
Now, however, they were home and free to let their hands roam everywhere.
Dante was seated on Vergil's lap, riding his hard cock slowly, savoring every bit of contact. Getting off wasn't what he was focusing on though. Instead, he thoughts were on Vergil's hands, holding him to his chest as though he might disappear on him; Vergil's mouth, that was kissing, licking, and sucking at his neck, shoulders, jawline, anywhere he could reach; Vergil's legs, strong and unyielding, easily holding Dante's body with no effort; and his voice, the whispers of praise and adoration that tumbled from his lips, the hot, moist pants that caressed Dante's flesh, and how much feeling was expressed from his usual cold brother.
Dante's hands were currently tangled in Vergil's hair, tugging and pulling softly at every sensation that danced along his body. Earlier, those hands had pulled Vergil's lips down for a kiss; they had cradled his face and held him tenderly; they stroked his back and dug in whenever Vergil thrust into his body or sucked or nibbled at whatever part of Dante had captured his attention.
This wasn't about sex. It wasn't about their kinks or getting off or anything like that. This was all about touching one another, mapping out the other's body. For the first time in his life, Dante was truly making love. Usually, he preferred being smacked around and fucked like a common whore; that was simple, straightforward, easy to comprehend. But right now, in this moment, he needed to just feel Vergil, to know that his twin was there with him, and that he could in fact trust him enough to even be able to do this. That by itself made this night special to them both. Not only were they learning each other's bodies again, but they were also allowing themselves to be vulnerable.
That wasn't something Dante or Vergil ever did. Life constantly forced them to remain forever diligent and guarded. But they didn't have to be that way in this moment. Both of them had gone untouched for so long that this was practically new territory. So, it didn't matter how many times Dante came or how hard he was being fucked into his own bed by his twin brother. It didn't matter to Vergil that Dante submitted and acknowledged that he was the more powerful twin.
What did matter was feeling that the other was close by and they were safe and warm and, for the first time in a long timw, happy. This wouldn't be an everyday occurrence for them, but every once on a while, when they felt the need to reaffirm that they were both there and that neither of them was going away. That would be enough for Dante and Vergil.
They were enough for each other.