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He could barely supress the flinch when the hand connected with his arm. He couldn't stop his shoulders tensing, the snarl and glare. Nero let his hand slip away, excitement dropping off his face. Disappointment took its place as he looked away. Dante watched them out of the corner of his eye while pretending that he wasn't.
Vergil silently cursed himself. He wasn't trying to push his son away. How could he explain without sounding weak that he had spent decades where the only physical touch he received was violence? He just needed to be strong. Stronger than this ridiculous reaction whenever someone touched him.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Voice even, "Did you need something, Nero?"
"Nah, not really." Nero grumbled, head low. "I'm gonna go ahead."
Before Vergil could say anything, Nero was running off and out of sight. Dante stepped into Vergil's personal space, an arm slinging around his shoulders and a lopsided smile on his face. Vergil grabbed Dante's arm, squeezing it enough to hurt. His brother was doing this just to annoy him. "What do you want?"
"I'm pretty sure Nero wants to hug his old man at some point. Which means you need to practice because I'm not so sure you remember how." Dante's voice was that obnoxious mocking tone. Vergil was about to punch him in his smug face when he realized his expression wasn't smug. It was... Soft. Pity?
Baring his teeth as his anger flared, Vergil growled, "I don't need your--"
He was cut off when Dante pulled him into a tight hug. Vergil's body tensed, hands hovering awkwardly over Dante's back. His brother felt warm, almost comforting. His voice was quiet and filled with regret, "Can you please just let me in?"
It hurt. Somewhere deep down in Vergil's chest. His throat felt tight. His face scrunched like it had when he was a child trying not to cry.
He pressed his face into Dante's shoulder and hugged back, tentatively. If Dante's shoulder was wet when the hug ended, neither of them said anything about it.