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Summary
There's no redness, no bruises, not even the round mark of teeth that by all means should still be on Vergil's shoulder were he a human, but all Dante sees is pristine, pale skin nobody else has ever touched before.
"What are you ogling at me for?" Vergil asks irritably.
"Don't flatter yourself, dumbass", Dante counters and hurries out of the hallway.
Vergil still hasn't figured it out.Dante wants to be caught touching Vergil while he sleeps. His conscience does, anyway.
