Chapter Text
Dante sits behind his desk, elbows resting on its messy surface as he surveys the crew assembled before him. Lady is leaning against one side of the desk facing Trish, whose back is resting against the railing of the staircase with her hands on her hips. On the other side of the office, Nero regards him with guarded curiosity while lounging on the couch next to Nico, who pays him no mind as she casually rests one ankle atop her knee.
They are all staring at him expectantly, he is the one that called them all here after all, but it’s his nephew that finally breaks the ecstatic ice. “Alright, so…why the hell did ya call us all here?”
“Yeah,” Lady pipes up as she rests one hand on the desk and leans in a little closer. “What’s the deal, Dante?”
The corners of his mouth twitch into a mischievous smirk. “The deal…IS THIS!” he exclaims, reaching down under his desk before revealing a light pink pastry box to the whole crew. Another long silence follows while they just stare at both him and the wide-open box with varied expressions of perplexity and scrutiny. Dante’s smirk widens while he waggles his eyebrows, waiting for the epiphany to finally hit the crew just like it did him when he first read what is written on the inside the box:
petals
teardrops
snowflakes
rain
stars
tides
eyelids
time
shadows
leaves
the sun
and I,
for you
Nero is once again the first to speak up. “Uh…what exactly are we looking at?”
“Oh my god!” Lady gasps, eyes sparkling with realization as she covers her gaping mouth with her other hand.
“Well, well…that was quick,” Trish murmurs while squinting at the elegant handwriting on the bottom of the pastry box.
Nero shakes his head in confusion. “What’re you guys talking about? It’s just a box with a…wait a minute,” he mutters while leaning in closer for a better look at the short and sweet poem, eyes widening when he finally notices the key words written in bigger letters right at the center of the pastry box:
and I,
for you
“OOOOH! Looks like you’re gettin’ a new mom!” Nico howls while elbowing Nero in excitement.
“C-cut it out!”
Dante flings his head back and lets out a boisterous laugh while Nero swats Nico’s arm away. “It seems our sweet gardener has plucked the he loves me petal from the flower of loooooooove,” he announces gleefully, pointing at the proof with his usual theatrical flair.
Trish quirks a well-trimmed eyebrow. “Yeah…but what does that have to do with all of us?”
“Oh no,” Nero mumbles under his breath while his eyes narrow in suspicion. “You’re not thinking-”
“Oh, you know he is!” Nico quips back with a hearty chuckle.
“Listen Kid,” Dante begins to spell it all out as he sets the pastry box down on his desk. “Your old man is taking forever to seal the deal with Buttercup.”
“He does have a point,” Lady admits with a shrug.
“Which is why he needs our help,” Dante finishes with a sage nod of his head.
Nico tilts her head while her eyes glint with interest. “What’re you suggestin’?”
Dante grins as he scoots his chair back from the desk. “Well, I’m glad you asked because…” He reaches over and pulls out a piece of poster board hiding behind the old radiator on the wall. “I got it all figured out!” he declares with a proud smile while turning the poster board over to reveal the title of his grand scheme:
OPERATION: GET DUMBASS BROTHER AND BUTTERCUP TOGETHER
A jumble of colorful depictions of what this said scheme is supposed to entail greets the crew as they just stare in awe at his clever plan, which is carefully drawn out in some markers and a few crayons. Dante peeks around the poster to admire his own work, mentally patting himself on the back for drawing the perfect view of the beach. He is especially proud of the drawing of Vergil, which is just a stick figure with spikey silver hair, holding the hand of another stick figure with a flower in their hair. They are both walking on the sand as they bask in the waxy yellow sunset beside some messy instructions written in black marker.
“Oh wow! This is really happening, huh?” Lady wonders aloud while trying to read his smudged handwriting next to the happy stick figure couple.
“Are you seriously just tryna piss him off even more?!” Nero exclaims incredulously, examining the contents of the poster with a mixture of astonishment and horror at what is happening at this very moment.
“So, what exactly is the plan, Dante?” Trish inquires as she walks around the desk behind Dante’s chair before settling on the opposite side of the desk across from Lady.
“Well, I figured the best way to speed things along,” he pauses his explanation for a second to circle the stick figure couple with his finger, “is for them to show some skin,” he reveals the key element of his cunning plan with a devious grin.
“Oooh!” Nico gasps. “So, we’re gonna strip ‘em and lock ‘em in a room together!” she shouts while clapping her hands in victory and nodding her head in approval of her own wild suggestion.
Dante strokes his chin while he mulls over her crazy yet potentially brilliant idea. “That’s not bad, Nico. Not bad at all,” he assesses aloud, which earns him a disgusted grunt from his nephew. “It’s not exactly what I was thinking of, but I’ll keep in mind just in case my own ingenious plan doesn’t pan out.” He takes out a black marker and uncaps it before scribbling down Nico’s idea on the poser board while he elaborates on his carefully planned operation.
“Right now, my second in command is inviting Buttercup to the joint bachelor and bachelorette beach party,” he informs while he finishes writing down Plan B. “Which by the way, isn’t gonna stop me from dragging your ass to the strip club later,” he tacks on, pointing at his nephew with the black marker with a crude smile on his face.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…time out,” Nero interrupts, waving his hands in the air as his brow furrows in thought. “Second in command? You don’t mean-”
“Is that why Kyrie wanted to be dropped off at her house on the way here?!” Nico abruptly interjects. Dante stays quiet while he caps the marker, but his wicked grin is all the answer the crew needs to confirm Nico’s hunch.
Lady sighs and shakes her head in disappointment. “Why can’t you use that brain of yours during jobs?”
“Oh c’mon! I use my brain…most of the time,” Dante retorts while tapping his temple. “Besides, I knew as soon as I saw Vergil walking through the shop like a lovestruck zombie that this Legendary Wingman needed to step up his game,” he adds while pointing at himself with both of his thumbs, which makes the poster board fall flat on his desk.
“He did what now?” Nero scoffs while shaking his head and blinking his eyes in total disbelief.
“Aww! That’s so cute!” Lady squeals as she claps her hands excitedly. “Alright, I’m in!”
“Count me in too,” Trish chimes in with a nod.
“Me three!” Nico hollers back with a raised hand.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Nero groans while burying his face in his hands.
Dante clenches his fist in victory despite his nephew’s obvious disapproval. “Alright, so as I was saying…”
“Yeah, yeah, show some skin, we heard that part,” Lady repeats his words from earlier while looking over the meticulously planned operation on the colorful poster board. “And just how are we supposed to…?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked because in order for this to work,” Dante explains as he points to the stick figure couple, “we need to keep Buttercup’s invite a secret, or else my brother will never wear what I have in mind.”
Trish’s eyes flicker over the scribbled notes. “Do you even have a speedo?”
“Well, no…not yet.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Trish offers without a second thought, motioning towards Lady across the desk.
“Yeah!” Lady agrees with a charming grin before lightly punching his shoulder. “We’ll get ya one too.”
“Whoa! That’s not part of the-”
“Do you really think that Vergil will wear a speedo if you’re not flaunting your ass around in one as well?”
Dante ponders Lady’s reasoning before letting out a relenting sigh. “Alright…I’ll squeeze into one too, but on one condition: mine has to be red,” he requests, already writing down the change of plans before adding an afterthought. “Oh! And pick up a couple of Hawaiian shirts while you’re at it.”
Trish nods. “Deal.”
“In the meantime, I’ll lend him some of my favorite magazines,” he continues to elaborate while grabbing a copy of Slap & Tickle, shuffling through its naughty pages with a wolfish grin. “Hopefully, they’ll help loosen that stick up his ass and teach him a thing or two about-”
A loud grunt of disgust interrupts his train of thought. Dante looks over at the couch and sees that Nero is glowering at him, upper lip raised in a snarl much like his own father. But that does not deter him from asking his next question with a straight face: “What about you two?”
Nero scowls while glaring at him skeptically. “If you seriously think I’m gonna help with-”
“I’ll whip up something real special for Vergil’s girl! Don’t you worry!” Nico yells abruptly while rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
“Uhhh Nico…I don’t think she’s ever touched a weapon, much less knows how to use one,” Lady surmises while tilting her head in thought.
“She sure knows her way around a hoe though,” Dante quips back with a cheeky grin.
Nico shakes her head. “Nah, man…I’m thinking a spiritual successor to Sweet Surrender, if you catch my drift,” she clarifies with an arched brow, which only makes Nero groan in disgust again while his cheeks turn light pink with embarrassment.
“Look Kid,” Dante addresses with utmost serious while leaning over his desk, “if you’re not going to help us land you a future mom-”
“No, I’m not gonna help because it’s fucking creepy!”
“Then just stay outta the way while we adults handle it, capiche?”
Nero rolls his eyes. “Pff! Whatever…don’t come cryin’ to me when my dad turns you all into devil sushi.” He crosses his arms and slouches back on the couch, looking more and more like his father with that salty scowl on his face.
“Yoooooooo this calls for some codenames, dontcha think?” Nico suggests enthusiastically.
“Nicooooo! You’re a genius!” Dante cheers with a playful grin. “My codename will be Tony Diavolo, Kyrie will be Sunshine, you three,” he gestures towards Nico, Trish and Lady as he names off their special codenames. “Snap, Crackle, BOOM!” He glances over at his nephew, who is still sulking on the couch. “And Nero will be,” he murmurs to himself, dramatically rubbing his scruffy chin in thought.
“Don’t you fucking dare say it, Dante,” Nero threatens with low growl while his eyes glint with agitation. But that has never stopped Dante from riling up his nephew, so he meets Nero’s harsh gaze with his own amusement one before revealing his designated codename in this whole operation:
“Deadweight.”
“Fuck you!”
Nero immediately jumps off the couch and rushes towards Dante, who is already bracing himself for impact. As he gets tackled down to the ground by his nephew, he hears the rest of the crew chat away, totally ignoring the scuffle going on behind the desk.
“Snap?” Nico questions quizzically. “Hell no! I want my codename to be NYOOM!”
“Crackle? Really?” Trish sighs, clearly unimpressed with his imaginative codename for her as well. “I expected better from you, Dante.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Lady chimes in happily. “I kinda like my codename!”
The ladies take a moment to reflect upon the madness they all just agreed to participate in while the boys continue to wrestle each other behind the desk. They all silently commit to this crazy plan for various reasons that range from wanting to see Dante genuinely happy again to wanting the cute florist to be part of this ragtag family. But they all can agree on one thing: this ridiculous plan will totally provide the perfect amount of entertainment to relieve their boredom if they just play along.
Trish gracefully flips her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and glances across the desk at Lady. “We better get started on our part of the plan since the party is only a few days away,” she advises before walking towards the front door.
Lady peeks around the desk. “We’ll catch ya later!” She waves down at the feuding half devil relatives before following Trish out the door.
Nico hops off the couch and snatches a swimsuit magazine off the desk. After giving it a few flips, she nods in satisfaction before sitting back down on the couch, halfway way taking in the contents while waiting for the boys to tire themselves out. Her mind starts to come up with a preliminary blueprint of that special surprise she mentioned earlier…
(A Few Days Later...)
The crashing of waves has always invoked a sense of peace within Vergil ever since he could remember. The reason behind this innate response is still a mystery to him though; it could be the hypnotic repetition of the water breaking on shore, or perhaps it’s the salty scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs as he marvels at seaside view. Part of his mind tugs at a lost memory of his last visit to these shores long ago, but he still has difficulty recalling that time. He may not know why he finds the roar of the surf serene, but there is one thing he is certain of at this very moment:
He’s going to beat Dante this time.
Vergil waits patiently for a suitable wave from atop his surfboard as it bobs up and down in the ocean. A few meters away his brother is paddling alongside a decent wave, but it is most certainly not the best he has seen thus far. He glances over his shoulder towards the shore where the rest of the crew is either lounging in the sun or setting up for a cookout. This seaside outing is the joint bachelor and bachelorette party for his son and future daughter-in-law, which he knows to be customary among wedding couples…but as his eyes flicker down towards his bare legs swaying in the salty sea, he wonders why he must suffer wearing this ridiculous swimwear in order to join the festivities.
The ecstatic hollering of Dante brings his attention back to the matter at hand, and more importantly, to who really forced him into this situation. For the past few days his brother has been acting very odd…Well, odder than what is expected from a fool like him, but nonetheless it has not gone unnoticed. Every time he has come back from his clandestine practice sessions with his lovely rose, he finds a plethora of lecherous magazines and romantic guidebooks strewn across his bed and desk.
At first, there were only a couple of stray magazines on his bed, which he promptly threw over the banister while berating his brother for snooping around his room again. But more just appeared on his bed with every passing day, getting even more salacious going by the crude covers of voluptuous women clad only in skimpy swimwear. He did not throw the guidebooks when they started to appear though, mostly because he could never find it in himself to harm a book in any way no matter its contents. And only one of those lewd magazines ever caught his eye…it was labeled as the spring edition and the theme was flowers.
Suffice to say that Dante’s new line of insufferable antics has made Vergil quite cranky. It only grew worse when his intolerable brother somehow convinced him to wear a blue speedo and the matching blue Hawaiian shirt with light pink tropical blooms. He remembers Dante claiming that he must look the part in order to “hang ten” as he so boorishly put it, flashing his own matching red set of speedo and Hawaiian shirt with pineapple shaped pizzas.
Vergil tried to object to this absurd beachwear, but the party was the next day and he had no other alternative on such short notice. If he was only was made aware ahead of time then he would have remedied that predicament immediately, but no one thought to inform him of this until the very last minute. In fact, he finds it quite peculiar since just the other day, he and Nero had their usual sparring session on this very same beach. One would think that his own son would notify him of-
“Bet ya can’t beat that wave, Verg!”
Dante’s cocky taunt knocks him out his aggravated ruminations. He glares in the direction of his brother, who is smiling like a loon as he paddles closer to him. Just before he can growl his own tempered retort, he notices a heavy swell of water lurch forward from the deep, rising higher and higher as it gains momentum. “It seems the tide favors me more, little brother,” he points out before paddling forth towards the impending wave with a smug grin on his face.
“Watch and learn!”
The vigorous surf drowns out Dante’s responding jeer as Vergil moves out closer towards what is assuredly going to be the more superior wave compared to his brother’s measly attempts. His agitated thoughts are washed away as gets closer and closer into position for catching the impressive wave. He empties his mind of all thought and feeling, concentrating only on the feel of the salty water lapping at his knees as he waits for the familiar pulling sensation of the undertow as the wave rolls closer and ever higher towards him.
Vergil lifts his legs onto the board and begins to paddle towards the shore when he feels the water surge forward. As soon as he reaches the foamy crest of the wave he stops paddling and places his hands onto the rail of his board before popping up his chest. He keeps his balance as he brings one foot forward and steadily stands on top the board while riding the grand wave with his trademark style and grace. After he gets ahold of his bearings, he looks ahead toward the shore and spots a flowery newcomer among the crew.
Even from a distance he can tell that this unexpected guest his lovely rose, no doubt donning appropriate swimwear for the beachy occasion along with a well-crafted flower crown. The split second of lost concentration causes his board to wobble beneath him, but he’s able to regain control before completely making a fool of himself in front of the whole crew. And as the crest of the wave curls in on itself he cannot help but wonder if your unforeseen appearance is the reason behind his brother’s most recent infuriating antics.
Vergil dives off his board as soon as the wave finally breaks. He sinks down for a moment before swimming up towards the surface, shaking his head free of excess water before heaving himself back onto his board. His hands furiously paddle towards Dante, who is currently waving at the crew while they greet their new guest. The fact that his brother does not even have the audacity to act shocked by your sudden appearance speaks volumes, which only stokes the enraged fire burning inside him.
“Hey!” Dante greets nonchalantly, either totally oblivious or just ignoring Vergil’s harsh scowl as he continues to wave. “Look who’s here!” he points out with a cheeky wink.
“You knew she was coming here, didn’t you?” Vergil barks while steering his board perpendicular in front of Dante, effectively blocking his view of the shore so that he must address him head on.
“Water you talking about?” Dante replies mockingly with a wide smile.
“You meddlesome cur!” Vergil seethes as he pushes Dante off his board and proceeds to dunk his head under the roaring surf of the sea.
Dante flounders around helplessly for a moment before maneuvering himself below Vergil’s surfboard. It only takes one strong push to tip the board over, which sends Vergil back into the water with a great splash. They both struggle for a bit underwater, exchanging blows and hard kicks until the need to breath forces them to pause their fight. As they break through the surface of the water for much needed air another huge wave crashes into them and drags them closer to shore. When the wave finally recedes, they meet each other’s challenging gaze, fully intending to continue their fight by the sword this time.
“Hey! Will you guys cut it out! Damn!”
Nero’s angry shouting brings them back to reality. Vergil looks over at the shore and sees his son shaking his head, no doubt rolling his eyes as well. His keen eyes also spot you standing by his beach chair, shielding your eyes from the sun as you stare right where he is currently bobbing in the ocean. He growls at the notion of being duped by Dante as he swims back to surfboard, not caring that he is splashing water all over his brother with every aggressive stroke of his arms and legs.
As Vergil swims back to shore, he cannot help to reminisce about all the practice sessions in your music room. It took some cajoling on his behalf as well as a couple sprigs of white heather blooms until you finally agreed to play piano accompaniment for him at the wedding. You jokingly warned him to be prepared for when you inevitably freeze up on stage, but when he suggested that he knows of ways to warm you back up… well, the rest of that practice session was filled with flirty banter and sideway glances full of yearning.
The romantic tension has grown exponentially since both of you shared that heady moment by the camellias. In fact, it renders him completely useless for the rest of the day while his mind shuffles through various passionate musings about his lovely rose. And when he finally finished the last red velvet rose and finally read your hidden poem written on the bottom of the box…something inside him shifted as the world around him faded away, leaving him breathless as his heart hammered in his chest.
It seems many things fall indeed…like a lovely rose for a prickly devil.
Even now his heart beats faster at just the mere image of those final words as it comes to the forefront of his mind. As his feet touch down on the sandy bottom of the shore, Vergil attempts to clear his head by shaking it free from excess water before slicking his hair back into its usual striking style. He hoists his surfboard under one arm as he walks the rest of the way up to where the crew is settled. You are now chatting with Kyrie over a small open cooler, and the closer he gets to the seaside camp, the more he notices just how well prepared you are for the beach.
You are wearing a flowery bikini that reveals a generous amount of skin for Vergil’s greedy eyes as he subconsciously moves his surfboard in front of his hips. A matching mesh sarong is slung around your ample hips and that brilliant smile he is so fond of curves on your lips as your jubilant gaze shifts over to him. His speedo gets little tighter as he thinks back to the one lewd magazine with the flower theme…which he hates to admit to having flicked through its pages of contents before throwing it over the banister. He starts to truly regret giving into his fleeting curiosity about how you might have looked clad only in flowers…
A warm feeling sprouts in chest and grows hotter as it spreads down his body, causing him to clamp down on whatever shred of dignity he has left to rid his mind and body of these sudden carnal urges. He relies on the method he uses when wielding the Yamato, centering his mind as he puts the flame of all emotion into the void. By the time he arrives at his beach chair, he feels more like his usual self: calm, composed, and in complete control. He secures his surfboard in the sand and dries off with a towel before snatching up the garish Hawaiian shirt that his brother so graciously gave him for this event.
As Vergil slips the shirt on, he happens to glance down at the Yamato, which is still propped up next to the chair. A small bundle of pink flowers wrapped around the handle gives him pause as a sense of déjà vu floods his mind. Last time, it was the bright blue blooms of forget-me-nots that had the honor of decorating the Yamato along with your phone number. His lips curl into a soft smile as he reaches down to stroke the soft and feathery petals with his fingertips. He recalls this delicate flower to be astilbe and its meaning of patience and devotion to a loved one makes his heart race once more as your secret message rings through his mind.
I await your requited love.
“Flower for your thoughts?”
The sound of your sweet voice breaks him away from his fervid ponderings. His head snaps around to you standing behind him with an intrigued expression on your lovely face. He can now clearly see a crown of eucalyptus leaves, lavender, and multicolored freesia adorning your head. His eyes squint at the odd combination of blooms. Multiple colors of freesia denote friendship and thoughtfulness while lavender has many meanings that could apply, but the appearance of eucalyptus signifies protection…from what though?
Does my lovely rose not feel safe?
Vergil quickly pushes the meaning of your flower crown aside in favor of turning around to face you while answering your cute query. “I had no idea you were coming to this seaside festivity. Otherwise, I would’ve…” he trails off, not wanting to divulge that Dante tricked him into wearing his current attire for his own twisted amusement.
“Kyrie invited me when she came by a few days ago,” you inform as your hands begin to fiddle with the loose tassels of your sarong. “I thought you overheard from the music room.” Your eyes glisten with worry as you gaze up at him. “I’m sorry…I can leave if you want,” you offer sadly, taking a step back from his personal space.
Vergil takes a step forward. “That won’t be necessary,” he replies softly, placing a hand on your shoulder as he tries to explain his strange behavior. “I was just…caught off guard.”
A smile of relief spreads across your face as you run your finger up his arm. “You’re not in the habit of being surprised, huh?” you ask with a light giggle.
“Not in the slightest,” he agrees, relishing the feel of your delicate finger as it traces patterns on his upper arm. “But I’m beginning to find that I don’t mind being surprised by you, my lovely rose.”
Your eyes gleam with delight at the sound of his endearment. A bashful giggle leaves your lips as you turn your head away, which only highlights your flushed cheeks in the warm sun. Vergil chuckles at your demure reaction to his compliment and takes another step closer to you. Your eyes snap back towards him while your head is still turned and the coy grin curling on your lips sends pleasant tingles throughout his body.
“Whale, hello there!”
Vergil grumbles at his brother’s obnoxious greeting while you look over your shoulder. Dante saunters over to where both of you are standing, parading around in his red speedo and gaudy Hawaiian shirt proudly. You laugh and turn around to wave at his oafish brother with a smile on your cheerful face.
Dante returns your happy smile with his own mirthful grin. “I hope my brother’s resting beach face didn’t scare you away, Buttercup,” he jests while pointing at Vergil, whose brow crinkles deeper as he gives an unamused grunt at his brother’s preposterous observation.
“Of course not!” you exclaim with a light giggle. You reach over and wrap your arms around Vergil’s bicep before hugging it close to your chest. “All he needed was a good dose of vitamin sea to cheer him right up!”
Dante knocks his head back as a rowdy laugh bursts from his lips. Vergil huffs indignantly while you rest your head on his shoulder. He observes you from the corner of his eye and silently admits to himself that he would endure all the irritating puns of the world if it meant seeing the dazzling smile currently on your lovely face.
“Can someone move Y/N’s coolers under the umbrella over there, please?”
The sound of Kyrie’s polite request brings everyone’s attention towards two small coolers. Your grip loosens around his arm, clearly intending to help, but Nero beats you to it. As he stacks one on top of the other, Dante strokes his scruffy chin and raises an attentive brow.
“Are one of those coolers full of strawberries?” he questions as his eyes light up with hopeful anticipation.
“Shell yeah!” you exclaim with a wide grin. “I made strawberry and champagne popsicles for everyone!”
Before you even finish your sentence, Dante is already gunning for the coolers like a child on Christmas morning. Both of you watch Nero lug away the coolers while Dante circles around him like hawk. You stifle a giggle with one of your hands just as Vergil looks back down at you.
“Another distraction, I presume?” he inquires with a knowing glint in his eyes.
You meet his gaze as your lips curve into impish grin. “You sometimes request elderflower tea when you visit my garden, so I thought that you might like my elderflower popsicles too.”
Vergil’s lips quirk into a soft smirk. “You’re as thoughtful as you are beautiful, my lovely rose.”
Your cheeks turn rosy pink. “The ocean may have made you salty, but you’re really sweet to me,” you murmur with a warm smile, snuggling closer to his side as you hug his arm firmly against your chest.
Vergil huffs again at your silly pun, but his unfaltering smile says that he is truly flattered by your words. A familiar fluttering sensation bubbles in his stomach at your soft touch around his arm, which he cannot help but to notice is brushing up against your breasts. Another wave of scorching heat trembles through his body at such a very pleasing sight.
Quite leering at her like some hormonal dolt and escort her properly! Vergil vehemently chides himself as his eyes tear away from your chest to check on the progress of the cookout.
It appears that they are all ready and waiting for them, so he hooks his arm and leads you to join the rest of the crew for a seaside meal. Your eyes light up with joy when Kyrie asks how you make your icy treats, and it does not take long for you to spread your wings and flit about the crew like a social butterfly. He surreptitiously watches you from afar, enjoying the view of your gracious smile and swaying hips as he grabs a couple of drinks for both of you.
After a few more minutes of idle chatter, everyone gathers around the grill and fills their plates before sitting around in a circle, easily slipping into the usual routine of friendly banter and bickering. Vergil mostly stays quiet as he takes a few bites of his burger while you chat enthusiastically with Kyrie and Lady. You also trade a few quips and puns with Dante, which has become an annoying ritual between both of you, trying to one up each other while the rest of the crew suffers.
When you see that he has finished eating, you lean over and ask if he would like one of your homemade popsicles. Vergil nods and insists that he can get one on his own, but before he can even move you gather up his empty plate and dash away towards the coolers. His eyes squint in irritation while the corner of his mouth twitches into a subtle smile. You discard both of your plates in a nearby trash bin and grab two popsicles before heading back.
You hand him one of the cold treats with an excited smile. As he takes it from your grasp, he notes the presence of violet flower petals frozen inside the pale golden ice. This does not surprise him at all since you always mange to sneak blossoms into everything, from old books sitting on a shelf in a café to delicious baked goods. He gives the icy treat a small sniff before sucking it into his mouth. The refreshing flavor of elderflowers bursts onto his tongue, crisp and tangy with a little bit of floral sweetness.
Vergil can practically feel your expectant stare as he savors the flowery treat. He turns his gaze over to you sitting beside him and answers your silent question with a grateful smirk. The jovial smile that spread across your face makes the fluttering in his stomach do what feels like somersaults. His eyes linger on you from the corner of his eye as both of you eat the icy treat, watching your soft lips closely as they nibble in a way that makes him wonder if they would nibble on his own lips in the same fashion.
Why wonder when you can find out?
His stray thought makes the scorching heat from earlier shoot straight through his body again. He feels that same sense of apprehension and eagerness from when he asked you to be his date to the wedding coil within his chest. Not this nonsense again, he mentally bemoans as he glances at the astilbe flowers still wrapped around the handle of the Yamato. You have already admitted your own feelings about him in your own special way, and now you are waiting for him to reciprocate. But the thought of crossing that unspoken line between you two by voicing his desire for you and the possibility of you changing your mind makes him hesitate…and yet he still craves for more, more, more…
“Uh oh! The grumpy frown is back!”
Vergil turns his head towards you just as your hand flies high into the air. An array of blue and pink petals of lilac flowers rain down upon him. His brow furrows deeper when he feels the tiny blooms bounce off his hair, but thankfully none of them stick this time around. He sighs and shakes his head at the sight of your wide grin while the crew laughs and jokes about your signature flower shower.
When the laughter dies down, you stand up and brush some sand off your sarong before looking back down at him. “I’m about to go collect some seashells,” you announce, eyes sparkling with wonder as they stare past him down the scenic shore. “You can come along with me if you want to,” you propose softly with a small hopeful smirk.
Vergil ponders for a moment before readily accepting your offer. “Very well,” he replies with a nod before standing up. “I shall accompany you.”
You beam happily as his answer and ask him to wait for a moment while you grab some supplies you brought just for this occasion. While he waits for you, he grabs the Yamato and unsheathes the blade, examining it for any flaws just in case he has need of it during their seaside stroll. No one has seen demons this close to the beach, but it never hurts to be prepared…especially if it ensures your safety while searching for seashells.
Just as he sheathes the Yamato, you come back with a small bucket and garden trowel. Vergil raises an eyebrow and asks if you are planning to plant a garden by the beach. You laugh and explain that the trowel is the only tool you had lying around to help dig out shells embedded in the sand. Both of you tell the rest of the crew about your seashell adventure before heading out, causing a few of them to just nod their heads while his idiot brother gives him two thumbs up and lascivious wink.
The farther away they walk down the beach, the more Vergil seems to relax as you playfully skip by his side. Every now and then you stop and inspect the sandy shore, sometimes using your trowel to loosen a shell before dropping it in your bucket. You remark here and there about adding some of the shells as last-minute details to some of the flower arrangements for the wedding. He points out that the big day is only a week away now and asks if you are ready for the big performance.
You bite your lower lip and look back at where the crew is located. “Do you think Kyrie suspects what we’re up to?” you ask worriedly, wringing the handle of your bucket with both hands.
Vergil tilts his head at your sudden suspension. “You didn’t tell her of my presence during her last visit, correct?”
You turn back to meet his gaze while shaking your head. “I said that I had a friend over, but she kept staring at us like she knew our secret or something…” you trail off, staring down at the sand in thought before continuing. “I dunno, Vergil…my gut says that she’s onto us.”
Vergil considers your words, looking back at when the crew gathered around for the cookout. He reluctantly acknowledges that he was too distracted by your presence to notice his future daughter-in-law’s glances during their meal. “Kyrie is a capable woman with a great deal of empathy,” he states, opting to just take your word for it instead of explaining why he was not as observant as you in that moment. “If she is aware of our plan…I’m confident that she will not spoil the surprise for my son at least.”
“Well, that’s good,” you sigh in relief before staring up at him in admiration. “I still hope that both of them will enjoy your performance.”
Vergil reaches over and gently takes one of your hands and raises up his lips. “Our performance,” he softly corrects before pressing a tender kiss on the back of your hand.
Your eyes linger on his lips as they retreat from your hand, twinkling warmly as your mouth parts ever so slightly to let out a shivering sigh. That damnable heat is back, simmering slowly in the pit of his belly as he follows some instinct he thought long forgotten. While still holding your hand, he steps forward and wraps his other arm around your waist, making sure he has not overstepped his bounds by carefully reading your facial expression. Your eyes flicker over to your hand still being held in his palm, cheeks glowing softly in the sun as your fingers slowly lace with his own before staring back at him. A gentle force takes ahold of him, silently urging him to throw caution to the wind for once and finally give into what he truly wants…
Vergil’s keen senses detect an errand wave crashing onto the shore, rushing forth towards both of you before crashing against the back of your legs. Your expression changes instantaneously from soft longing to absolute terror as you literally jump up into his embrace, dropping your bucket to throw your arms around his neck. His own arms instinctively help pull you up out of the foamy water, encircling you right below your bottom with the Yamato before hoisting you up against his chest as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.
“Well, this is…curious,” he mutters softly, partly about your sudden strange behavior and most definitely about the feel of your body pressed close against his bare skin.
You gasp against his neck, which rouses a miniscule of delight to shiver up his spine. “Oh my many petals!” you exclaim, quickly lifting your head to stare up at him with regretful eyes. “I…I’m so sorry!” you stammer as your arms slide down to his shoulders while you wiggle around awkwardly to set yourself free from his embrace. But Vergil does not loosen his hold on you as he pins you down with his intense gaze.
“There’s no need to apologize,” he affirms, trying to maintain his composure as your squirming body brushes dangerously close to his lower region. “Are you alright, my lovely rose?” he asks calmly with a small hint of concern in his voice.
“I’m fine! I was just startled…that’s all!” you reassure him with a sheepish grin. “You know how I am when something…or someone sneaks up on me,” you softly remind him while playfully poking him on the chest.
Vergil continues to stare at you for a moment, examining you closely just to be sure before slowly letting you down from his grasp. As soon as your feet touch down on the sand you pick up your small bucket and trowel, checking to see how many shells survived the wave while giving the ocean a wide berth. It seems my lovely rose is not fond of the sea, he surmises, watching you more closely as both of you continue to search for seashells. He notices how your eyes glance over towards the surf every time a big breaker claps on shore as you stroll surreptitiously away from every wave that threatens to lap at your feet.
After a few more minutes of walking, both of you come across a sprawling tide pool teeming with small sea creatures. You let out a gleeful squeal while bouncing around like a bumblebee before skipping towards it, claiming to have heard that you can find a “sand flower” in one of these isolated pools. Vergil quirks an eyebrow at your odd phrase before he follows suit, complaining loudly about how you should not run ahead of him. You pause at the edge of the tide pool, leaning over a little as you marvel all the various forms of sea life crawling around in its tiny depths.
You check the temperature of the water with the tip of your toe, shuddering with a tiny yelp before easing your foot into the tide pool. Vergil grabs your hand and helps you enter the tiny pool before stepping in beside you, noting that the calm water is just level with his ankles. Maybe it’s the rough current of the ocean that she’s more afraid of, he wonders himself while you pull him along by the hand, pointing at all the hermit crabs, barnacles, and sea urchins as you both tread carefully through the tide pool.
Every now and then you bend down to collect a shell or rock, which gives Vergil a rather pleasant view for his wandering eyes, before deciding to sit and rest for a while at the edge of the pool. He contemplates silently for a moment as you scrub some of your seashells free of sand in the water. Your frightened expression from earlier keeps flashing before his eyes. He has never seen you so scared since that demon attack in your garden. And as he admires your exquisite visage from the corner of his eye, he remembers the vow to always protect the lovely rose that has bloomed among his briars.
“Y/N,” he calls out softly.
“Yeah?” you reply while washing a small conch shell.
“Why are you afraid of the ocean?”
“What?!” you gasp, hands pausing in the water as you look over at him in shock. “I’m not afraid of the ocean,” you counter, flinching back a little when his eyes narrow in disbelief. “Specifically,” you quickly correct yourself before looking away from his critical gaze. “I just…don’t like it when you can’t see the bottom,” you murmur over the sea breeze. “And the ocean is vast and, as long as anyone can tell,” you gulp in quietly in fear before finishing your explanation, “…bottomless.”
Vergil’s face softens in understanding as his eyes focus on the eucalyptus leaves of your flowers crown, finally putting together its meaning with the rest of the blooms. “If it frightens you so much then why did you come here?” he inquires softly while leaning in closer in hopes of catching a glimpse of your bashful face.
“I couldn’t say no to Kyrie!” you exclaim with a vigorous shake of your head. “She’s been so kind and understanding. And I figured that I didn’t have to go into the ocean to enjoy the beach.” You grow quiet for a moment as your cheeks begin to redden. “I also knew that you would be here,” you admit softly, glancing at him for a moment before staring back down at small conch shell still in your hands. “And I knew that you would be protect me if…” you trail off, biting your lower lip as you drop the shell into the bucket with the rest of your seaside spoils.
Vergil reaches over and places his hand underneath your chin before directing your timid gaze straight up at his own beseeching stare. “If what?” he gently urges you as his hand glides across your jaw.
You take a deep breath as your eyes shine with uncertainty. “You’re going laugh if I tell you.”
“I swear as a Son of Sparda that I will never disregard your feelings and I’ll always protect you by any means necessary,” he solemnly vows in earnest, cupping your cheek as his fervent words echo around through the salty air. Your eyes glisten with gratitude as you nuzzle into the palm of his hand, soft lips pressing against his wrist in a tender kiss before revealing the crux of your fear.
“I’m afraid of being dragged down deep underwater.”
Vergil strokes your cheek with his thumb as your words sink in. You do not elaborate any further, but he can tell by the way your voice trembles that this is a deep-seated fear. His heart prickles in pain at the sight of your sorrowful face, which encourages him to lean in until his forehead rests against your brow. He knows what it’s like to be a slave to your own fears and he hates that you are going through that right now just for the sake of spending time with him and the rest of crew.
“The unknown can be frightening at times,” he declares openly, partly to you but also to himself as the gaps of faded memories echo in his mind.
You let out a long breath of relief before bringing your hand atop his own upon your cheek. “It’s a shame though…I’ve heard so much about the beaches of Fortuna from Kyrie and a dip in the ocean sounds so nice.” You glance past the tide pool towards the vast surf, eyes glimmering with determination for a moment before looking away in disappointment. “But I guess I’ll just have to splash around this tide pool instead,” you sigh begrudgingly, kicking up your feet up a bit in the water to emphasize your longing for an oceanic adventure.
Vergil feels that prickling pain spread through his chest at the sight of your disheartened face. The gentle force from before is back, guiding his lips to brush a tender kiss on your forehead. You hum softly and place your hand on his thigh as you scoot closer to him. Small rivulets of pleasure surge from your intimate touch, which in turn tests his restraint as the urge to pull you onto his lap floods his mind. Instead, he focuses on your current predicament, head reeling from the frustration of not being able to protect you from this kind of foe, but still wanting to help in some way.
You’ve brought clarity to my trouble thoughts on multiple occasions, he thought as a plan formulates in his mind. It only seems fair that I do the same for you, my lovely rose.
“I can help you…if you wish,” he murmurs, lips brushing gently against your skin with every word.
Vergil feels your brow furrow in confusion against his lips. “How?”
“I can carry you on my back while I wade out into the ocean.”
Your eyebrows shoot in shock. “I’m sorry,” you mutter while drawing your head back to stare up at him, eyes sparkling with skepticism while you anxiously wring your hands. “Did I just hear you say that you want to carry me out to the place that absolutely terrifies me?”
“I’ll only move out a short distance from the shore until your feet skims the surface of the water,” he clarifies softly in a soothing voice. “And if you’re brave enough to stand there with me…” He reaches down and slowly drags a finger up your leg from the ankle, secretly enjoying the feel of your smooth skin as well as the subtle gasp that escapes your mouth. “The water will only come up to here,” he finishes as his finger taps just below your knee before withdrawing back to his side.
You look out towards the ocean of a moment before turning back to him. “And you’ll protect me?” you entreat with a tilt of your head, eyes shimmering with hope as your lean in closer.
Vergil takes one of your hands as he lifts the Yamato up in front of you. “By any means necessary,” he repeats the vow he swore earlier with the same glint of earnest conviction in his eyes. He gently guides you to grasp his most treasured possession just below the hilt before resting his own hand on top of yours.
A long silence stretches out as you stare at both of your hands on the Yamato, eyes glancing up to meet his sincere gaze a few times as you bite your lower lip in thought. Your head turns hesitantly towards the ocean, regarding its tumultuous waves from the corner of your eye. He can still sense your apprehension, but your grip on the Yamato tightens beneath his hand as a glimmer of determination flickers across your face.
“Well, you know what they say.” You turn your now confident gaze back to him. “If there’s a will, there’s a wave.”
Vergil scoffs and rolls his eyes at not only your ridiculous pun, but also at your poor decision to use a pun during a genuinely serious conversation. “I cannot for the life of me tell whether my absolute dunce of a brother is a bad influence on you or if it’s actually the other way around,” he sneers, removing his hand from the Yamato to pinch his agitated brow out of habit.
Your soft giggle makes his upper lip curl in a silent snarl as you let go of the Yamato. He lowers his hand from his brow when your hands reach for your flower crown, feeling around the blooms before settling on a white freesia. You carefully pull the lone flower free from the crown before taking his hand and turning it to see the inside of his palm. As you place the delicate blossom into his hand, he remembers the meaning behind receiving a single freesia flower. His breath stops short as you gently close his hand around the bloom, enclosing your hands around his clenched fist before raising it up to your lips.
“I’m in your capable hands, my darling devil,” you proclaim with utmost sincerity.
Your brazen gaze shakes him to the core as your term of endearment rings repeated through his ears. The afternoon sun highlights the adorable glow of your rosy cheeks as you gently kiss every knuckle on his hand. Vergil feels that he would have melted on the spot right then and there if it wasn’t for the tide pool as his feet keeping him cool.
The touch of your soft lips, the sound of your sweet voice, and the honest admission of trust in him…all of it reignites the raging desire to pull you close and finally let himself fall for you too...