title: "Lake of Fire"
author: Fantom Fox
feedback: please! fantomfox00[at]hotmail[dot]com
series/pairing: Devil May Cry, Vergil x Dante
rating: PG, m/m kissing
archive: Crimson Velvet, others please ask first
notes: warning Yaoi of course. I'd just like to make a few notes on the creative processes of this fic. First, there was a long and difficult battle with the DMC timeline. (I'm actually rewriting this note to spare you the gory details.) In short, the twins are half-demon, and if there is a real timeline for the game, I don't know it. Second, I'd like to remind the audience that I typically hate incest/twincest. But Vergil x Dante is my guilty pleasure. File this under "I will never" because I <I>will</I> write incest, but only if it's this. Um... this fic went a completely different direction than I intended at first, so it's more shounen ai rather than Yaoi. Sorry to disappoint you.
Oh! And er... SPOILERS for DMCNow that I've bored you to tears... let's begin.
special thanks to Lishy, who read the roughest of my rough drafts and helped my Dante muse more fully develop his voice. ^^

"...son of the Legendary Dark Knight...."

I could feel the words whispered in the back of my mind. It was like an echo that I couldn't quite make out with my ears. The voice was familiar, like a childhood friend that I had forgotten. But where was it coming from? All I saw around me was death. Blood. Stillness. Without glancing down, I could see the beautiful blond of my mother's hair where she fell. That monster struck her down, and my heart would not let him get away with it. The stillness would break with the violence the fiend deserved.

Taking a step forward, I could glimpse another of my loved ones laying still. The pitch-blackness of the armor reflected the magical light that glistened through the room. He looked like my father, but I knew the face concealed by the horned helmet.

The dark power welled inside of me like a storm, like the raging winds the fiend created high above me. I knew this power, and it rolled through me as smoke does into the distant night. It grew until I could feel by body changing. The power pushed from inside my skin as if it would break me, rushing out into the huge room that could not possibly contain it. It ate up all my anger and transformed it into something else. Something great.

Steadily, I drew my sword.

The deep voice of the fiend echoed through the great hall, like thunder of a distant storm. "Again I must face the Sparda. Strange fate, isn't it?"

I smirked. "Strange and ironic that it will end the same way."

-------------------

-------------------

Dante awoke with a start. Beads of sweat ran down his face and soaked into his pillow. He must have been tossing in his sleep with quite a bit of violence because there wasn't a blanket left on his bed. Dante moaned softly and raised a hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. The dream clung to him; that power, that strength, that anger. It was so real that he couldn't shake it. The emotion weighted him down, kept him in place, and all he could do was wonder why.

With great effort, Dante rolled onto his side and opened his eyes again cautiously to the dimly lit bedroom. Through the silver veil of his hair, the sixteen year old boy could make out the streaks of sunlight creeping through his window. He pushed the sweaty white mess of hair from his eyes. Too early. The clock said he still had another 20 minutes before he had to get up.

With a huff, he flopped onto his back to stare at the blank white ceiling. Folding his arms behind his head, Dante forced his mind not to wander, trying to clear the dream from his waking body. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned his head to glance at the clock. Only five minutes had passed. Sighing heavily, Dante pushed himself to sitting and fumbled around for his clothes, grabbing the faded jeans he'd been wearing for three days and a ripped red t-shirt. Mumbling to himself in protest at losing 20 precious minutes of sleep, it was too early for him to worry about his appearance.

Dante stumbled out to the kitchen, avoiding the early morning sunlight blazing through open windows. He found Vergil, completely awake and engrossed in his newspaper, holding a cup of coffee. The elder twin took a drink of the dark steaming liquid, set the cup down, and slid it across the table. Dante reached the edge of the table just as the cup did, and he caught it not a second before it fell.

Vergil didn't even glance up from the paper as Dante flopped into the chair opposite him, drinking deep from the coffee mug as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. There were a few more minutes of silence between them as Dante finished the coffee and rolled the mug around in his hands, staring off into oblivion. The only sound was the rustling of Vergil's paper.

Finally, Dante looked up at his brother. "I had that dream again," he mumbled darkly.

"The one where Mom died?" Vergil skimmed his newspaper, seeming wholly unconcerned.

Dante nodded and lowered his eyes to the empty mug. He wrung his hands around the clean white glass.

Vergil turned another page in his paper. "There's more if you want it."

Dante blinked up at his brother, caught a little off guard by the sudden change in subject. He slowly pulled himself to his feet to cross the kitchen for the coffee pot. It was strong this morning, and very slowly the dream began to slip away. "But there's more to it that I never told you." Dante kept his voice low. Maybe if he whispered, Vergil wouldn't hear what he had to say. "It wasn't just Mom. Every time, there's something I haven't told you."

There was no response from the table, only the rustling of newspaper. Dante sighed softly and poured himself another cup of coffee. He mumbled something under his breath. "You were there, but you were like the Sparda... like Father... and you were de--"

A sudden touch on Dante's jaw made him nearly drop his fresh cup of coffee. He turned so suddenly and Vergil was so close behind him, Dante's breath caught as his motion caused his brother's hand to slide into his messy hair. For a moment, the two just stood there, nearly nose to nose as Vergil touched lightly behind Dante's ear.

In the distance of Dante's bedroom, his clock radio clicked on.

Opening his mouth to say something, Dante never got the words out. At that very moment, Vergil leaned in, brushing their lips together and stealing whatever thought had been going through the younger twin's mind. So close. So warm. Dante licked his lips and accidentally brushed Vergil's with the tip of his tongue. His breath caught. It was such a small distance between them, just a breath before-- Dante relaxed, and the tension draining from his shoulders was just enough to bring them together.

The kiss was soft at first but not timid. Vergil curled his fingers against Dante's scalp, catching a small handful of the pale locks. Dante leaned back against the countertop, melting into his brother's careful caress. This first touch, so brand new, felt like destiny. There was no hesitation or fumbling that sometimes accompanied a first kiss. The twins knew each other as they knew themselves, and the kiss spoke in volumes.

A sound from the hallway approaching them caused Dante to jump. He shoved Vergil away then hissed in pain as he knocked the scalding coffee over and onto his hand. Vergil turned to get a towel just as their mother came around the corner and into the kitchen.

"Oh! You both are awake. Dante, you left your alarm on," she chided.

Vergil tossed his brother the towel and answered for him, "He'll turn it off in a minute. Dante spilled his coffee."

Mopping up the counter and patting his hand with the towel, Dante grinned up at his mother sheepishly. "Yeah." He swept the towel and now empty mug into the kitchen sink and wove around his mother to head back to his room, kissing her on the cheek as he passed.

Following at a much slower pace, Vergil kissed his mother's other cheek and wandered back down the hall. Their mother just shook her head as she went to finish cleaning Dante's mess.

Dante shut the radio off with a click, and his heart was pounding. That was a little too close. If that one floorboard hadn't been loose, who knows how that might have turned out. Compounded with the intensity of his nightmares, Dante couldn't have handled his mother walking in on a scene like that. The bedroom door clicked closed and his heart gave a leap. He turned quickly to see Vergil leaning back against the door, a smirk cracking his lips as he clicked the lock into place.

Laughing nervously, Dante ran a hand back through his hair, pulling it out of his face as he stared down at the mess on the floor. As his fingers caught a knot in his hair, Dante idly noticed there was almost a line dividing the room where his mess ended and Vergil's spotless half of the floor began.

A touch on his shoulder brought him back to his senses. Hand still caught in his own hair, Dante looked up and into identical eyes. He had to take a deep breath, trying to release the tension that had creeped back into his shoulders. As Vergil stepped to close the distance between them, Dante discovered for the first time that his brother's eyes were not exactly like his own. There was something there... something that hardened the lines of his face, that straightened the posture of his body, that made his eyes seem cold like metal.

Captured as he was, Dante found himself reaching out to touch Vergil's waist. He worked his fingers free from his hair so he could touch his brother with both hands, sliding them barely under Vergil's shirt. Still warm from sleep and the coffee, Vergil's skin was striking cool in comparison. Dante's touch was timid as it slid low over Vergil's hips, savoring this moment for whatever it was. Inevitably, their lips found each other again, continuing the exploration without the possibility of distraction. There was nothing more perfect and more comforting for the younger twin at the moment than to be wrapped in his brother's embrace. They could hear each other's heartbeats as the same blood coursed through their veins.

A soft knock on the door interrupted the moment.

"It's almost time to leave." Their mother's soft voice filtered through the wooden door.

Dante couldn't find his voice to respond, so once again, Vergil answered for him. "We're almost ready, mother. Be right out." The twins shared a brief brush of lips and another meaningful gaze before separating to each take care of his own morning rituals.

Dante flipped the radio back on as he sat on the bed to fight a comb through his hair. It was "business as usual," just another morning, same as always. Except this time, for just a few minutes, the dream didn't haunt him....