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Late at night, Dante's office was filled with nothing but the relentless pitter-patter of rain against the windowpane and the dim, blurry neon glow filtering in from the streets. Vergil stood in the center of the room. His silver hair, usually slicked back with unyielding pride, now hung loosely over his forehead after the downpour, carrying a touch of dampness and melancholy. He had brought nothing with him except for the Yamato.
Dante clicked his tongue, rummaged through his messy wardrobe, and tossed a pair of ordinary-looking clothes over to Vergil.
"Just wear this for now, brother."
Vergil caught the garments, his brow furrowing slightly at the soft, stretchy elastic fabric, something entirely alien to his usual heavy brocade coats and stiff leather boots. But he had no choice, the two of them had only just started living together, and he was still far too unfamiliar with the human world to have brought a proper wardrobe. The flimsy clothing looked utterly monotonous, and... it seemed a bit smaller than him? Strange. Could Dante actually be smaller in stature than him?
Vergil stepped out of the bathroom, and from his very first steps, he instantly realized this was a mistake.
This outfit was entirely different from anything he had ever worn in his life. The black long-sleeved t-shirt looked ordinary enough at first glance, but its cotton-spandex blend was far too thin. Not too tight that it choked his breath, but rather fitted snugly, draping softly and clinging to his flesh like a second skin.
It was precisely this "just right" fit that created a torturous sort of caress. With every step he took, every breath he drew, the thin fabric rubbed lightly against his chest. The repetitive, teasing friction caused his nipples to harden and push slightly against the black fabric. Vergil felt as if an invisible, secretive hand was continuously stroking his chest, sending a numbing jolt of electricity straight down to his lower abdomen.
Below the waist, it was tenfold worse. The high-stretch jeans tightly hugged his hips, fully lifting his firm glutes and starkly outlining the contours of his groin. With every stride he made, the coarse denim friction-rubbed directly against his lower half. It felt like a cruel joke, forcing him to feel the extreme sensitivity of his own body second by second.
Vergil froze in the middle of the room, using his long, slender fingers to pull down the hem of the shirt in a futile attempt to cover himself. He felt utterly naked beneath Dante's gaze. These clothes stripped away the armor protecting his pride, exposing the most sensual, softest contours of a half-demon under the dim lighting.
From the corner of the room, Dante remained seated in his chair. He didn't utter a word, but his gaze had never once left his older brother. Those eyes no longer held their usual playful banter, instead, they were deep and burning with a dark fire. Dante’s gaze seemed to carry weight and heat as it slowly, gropingly slid down Vergil's broad shoulders, past his slender waist, and lingered for a long time on the lower half that was so clearly defined beneath the tight pants.
From Dante's perspective, Vergil looked strangely powerful yet incredibly vulnerable at this moment. The vivid neon light from the window ran along his brother’s spine and hips, creating provocative mallows of light and shadow. The demonic instinct within Dante was growling. He knew full well how powerful that body was, but beneath that thin fabric, it exuded a lethal sensuality.
Dante felt his throat go dry. A scorching heat surged down his spine, pooling in his lower belly. He wanted to stand up, walk over, and use his rough hands to stroke along that slender waist just to see if it was truly as soft as it appeared.
But Dante only gripped the hem of his own pants tightly, forcing himself to sit still. He let out a laugh, trying to keep his voice as casual and mocking as always, even though his eyes could not tear themselves away from that ivory, exposed shoulder.
"You look not bad."
Vergil glanced at Dante, noticing the abnormality in his younger brother's burning yet heavily restrained eyes. The air in the room suddenly grew dense, heavy with an ambiguous emotion that was well above brotherhood but not yet given a name.
Unable to bear the feeling of being seen through and exposed, Vergil darted his eyes around. His gaze caught Dante's signature red leather coat draped carelessly over the back of a nearby sofa. He needed something thick to hide his body. Vergil stepped forward decisively, reaching out to grab the coat.
But Dante was faster. Seeing Vergil's intention to hide such a magnificent sight, demonic instinct and possessiveness flared up within him, he refused to let that lethal allure be covered. Dante bolted upright, rushing over to grip the leather coat tightly while his other hand blocked Vergil's shoulder.
"Hey, that's mine. You've got your own clothes" Dante said, his voice dropping an octave, his breath hitching slightly with heat.
"Let go, Dante. I want this one too," Vergil hissed through gritted teeth, the hyper-sensitivity of his body making him far more easily irritated than usual.
Neither would yield, and the struggle for the coat grew intense. They shoved and wrestled aggressively. To Vergil, every single physical collision, every time Dante's muscular body pressed against him, felt like a match thrown into dry straw. The thin layer of fabric was completely powerless to stop the scorching heat radiating from his younger brother. The constant friction from the shoving made Vergil’s body tremble with stimulation, forcing him to bite his lip hard, using every ounce of his willpower to hide his body's shameful reaction.
At the peak of their wrestling for the coat, Vergil's hand accidentally brushed right between Dante's thighs. Right beneath his palm, a hard, burning presence stood tall behind the fabric of Dante's pants. The erection was so large and unmistakable that it could not be hidden or feigned.
Vergil panicked completely. His pupils dilated, and his usual pride and coldness shattered entirely. He yanked his hand back as if he had just touched burning coal, trying to recoil and fall back against the arm of the sofa.
But Dante gave him absolutely no room to retreat. He used the momentum of Vergil's fall to press his own body down. The sly eyes of the demon within Dante instantly captured the utter chaotic embarrassment on his older brother's face, before slowly sliding down to Vergil's own lower half, which was now half-hard and swollen beneath the tight jeans. To make matters worse, the thin t-shirt had become disheveled from the fall, exposing his twin nipples, standing erect from stimulation right before Dante’s eyes, and right in front of his mouth.
Dante pretended to lose his balance. His palm slipped from the arm of the chair, and as if by accident, but completely on purpose, he rubbed hard right between Vergil's legs. The full weight of a half-demon pressed directly onto his most sensitive spot, causing Vergil to choke out a gasp as his hips involuntarily hitched upward. Dante feigned clumsiness, acting as though he was scrambling to push himself up, only to let his weight crash heavily down on Vergil once more. This time, his mouth landed directly against the erect nipple showing through the thin fabric.
"Ngh... Dante...!"
Vergil bolted with a shudder, a moan escaping his tightly bitten lips. But the sweet torture had only just begun. Dante put on an act of confusion, bracing his hands down against Vergil's lower body to find leverage to stand up, using the opportunity to violently rub his own groin against his older brother's lap.
Two columns of scorching heat clashed through two layers of tight fabric. Vergil was pushed to the absolute limit of his endurance. He was completely pinned beneath Dante's massive frame, unable to break free. If he were to bluntly stand up now, his own erect body would be fully exposed. But his very effort to hide it severely restricted his movements.
His younger brother's hot lips had seemingly soaked a patch of his shirt, "accidentally" catching his nipple and sucking on it gently while his tongue moved with an uncanny flexibility. Meanwhile, Dante's hand slid entirely inside Vergil's pants with an absurdity that defied any pretense of accident, rubbing continuously until Vergil's lower half went completely numb with pleasure.
In just a matter of moments, a powerful current of climax surged up Vergil's spine. He couldn't help but arch his back, his muscles locking tight. Under that relentless, sophisticated friction, Vergil felt a warm, wet release spill into the crotch of his pants.
Vergil didn't dare look down. Only then did Dante slowly lift his body up. He brought the hand that had been bracing below up between their faces. On his rough palm was a smear of warm, sticky fluid, Vergil had ejaculated right under the guise of his "clumsiness".
Vergil's face flushed a deep crimson, as if it might bleed. He panted heavily, his chest heaving, his eyes welling with tears of shame and resentment, completely at a loss for where to hide his face or what to say. The pride of the regal completely collapsed before the fluid-stained hand of his younger brother.
Dante saw right through the embarrassment. He didn't look confused or apologetic in the slightest, discarding the act he had put on just moments ago. Before Vergil's stunned eyes, Dante slowly brought his slick finger to his lips, sticking his tongue out to lick and taste it with absolute relish.
His eyes crinkled with a mocking smirk as he looked at Vergil, radiating the smug triumph of a predator that had successfully snared its prey.
Only now did the shocking truth hit Vergil. This bastard had done all of this entirely on purpose! All the clumsiness, the falling, the bracing... it was all a theater act to violate him. No, even before that, this sexually suggestive clothing, everything, everything had been orchestrated from the start!
But Vergil's mind was completely derailed by the aftershocks of the climax, his body turned to mush from shame, leaving him unable to voice his rage.
Dante hooked his brow and stood straight up with absolute decisiveness. He didn't possess a single shred of shame. His pants were now stretched taut, putting his own fully erect, proudly throbbing shaft right at Vergil's eye level, the crotch even slightly soaked from his own pre-cum. He stood there, towering and arrogant, acting as the most direct provocation to his older brother who lay helpless on the sofa.
"Did my clothes... stimulate you that much, brother?" Dante laughed huskily, his deep voice carrying a heavy, seductive pull that completely tore away their everyday mask of brotherhood.
Vergil lay helplessly on the sofa, his chest still rising and falling to the rhythm of his heavy, ragged breathing. The sticky sensation of his own semen soaking through the thin denim, combined with the patch on his chest wet with Dante's cooling saliva, made him feel utterly humiliated and miserable. The proud king had never fallen into such a disheveled, passive state.
Dante looked down from above, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his brother's beautiful, resentful form. He let out a low chuckle, turning toward his desk, but not before tossing back an insinuating line.
"You're too wet. I'll leave another set of clothes for you to change."
With that, Dante nonchalantly walked over to a chair in the middle of the room and sat down.
"My pants are wet too, guess I'll just have to take them off."
Suiting action to word, he stripped his pants off entirely, exposing his massive, rock-hard penis. He sat dead-center in the room with his legs spread wide right in front of Vergil, gripping himself and stroking into a heavy masturbation. His actions made it loud and clear, this was his house, and between brothers, there was nothing to be shy about.
Vergil ground his teeth, refusing to give him a reply. He forced himself not to look at him, using what little strength he had left to drag his climax-addled body up. But the moment he took a step, he nearly collapsed. Those damn tight pants were now clinging to his wet skin, with every step, the coarse fabric constricted his hyper-sensitive lower half, rubbing against the area that had just ejaculated. It made him tremble, his stride turning into a limping, awkward, and agonizing struggle.
It took Vergil a long time just to drag himself inside the bathroom. He locked the door immediately, leaning his back against the wooden frame, letting out a sharp breath as if he had just escaped a demon's den. Vergil quickly threw off the filthy, lust-soaked clothes clinging to his body, only to realize...
Perched mockingly on the vanity was the outfit Dante claimed to have "left ready." And it was ten times more insane and whorish than the last one.
It was an oversized white silk shirt made of a fabric so thin, flowing, and soft that it was practically translucent under the light. Given the length of the shirt, it would drape over his hips but leave his bare legs completely exposed. And what came with it wasn't a pair of jeans, but a minimalist black cool-spandex thong.
If he wore this, a mere slight bend of his waist would allow his full, rounded glutes and hips to fall entirely into that bastard's line of sight without a single layer of fabric to guard them. That white silk, upon touching his damp nipples, would undoubtedly cling to his skin, highlighting the two glossy, protruding peaks, creating an alluring illusion even more stimulating than bare nakedness.
Vergil stood rooted to the spot in the bathroom, staring blankly at the newly laid, sophisticated trap. Outside the door, Dante's soft chuckles, mixed with the euphoric gasps of his masturbation, drifted in, thick with smug satisfaction and anticipation.
He realized that tonight, even if he hid behind this door, he was already completely trapped in the palm of the demon named Dante.