Title: Team Demon: A Villa Welc0me Fic
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII/Devil May Cry
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: Shared, delicious curiosity.
Notes: For Sprink.
One of the more curious things about the Villa Welc0me was the pool. The pool was in the farthest building past the still unrenovated section of courtyard. It wasn't quite Olympic sized, but it did have posts for a volleyball net, which was quite fun.
There was also a hot tub in one corner, as well as a sauna and rather private set of locker rooms. All were places for not-so-therapeutic and rather illicit sex and every last bit of it was completely and routinely ignored by Miss Kalloway and Miss Sprink.
But when not a den for copious fucking, the pool and surrounding were also very relaxing.
And that is how a half-demon demon-hunter and an undead science experiment gone somewhat-wrong happened to end up naked together, each a bit curious since both had their wings out, giving the appendages a nice, warm soak.
"You don't rust?" the silver-haired demon asked, pointing at the metallic arm of the black-haired man-creature.
"No." He really did get sick of being asked that. Especially by Miss Kalloway who usually failed to remember his answer.
There was another moment of silence during which the silver-haired demon decided he needed a bit more information on just who he'd involuntarily decided to soak with.
"Do you always have your wings out?"
"You ask alot of questions not having introduced yourself," the black-haired man-creature replied.
"Dante Sparda, devil hunter."
"And devil," was the response. "I am Vincent Valentine, and no, I do not always have these wings visible. They aren't really mine, anyway. They're... They belong to a creature inside of me. But sometimes they ache to be stretched and I can feel it."
"I understand that," Dante said. "I'm sure I can sympathize when it comes to aching, aggression, other... urges."
Dante couldn't really help feeling a bit predatory. It was part of his nature and he always had been rather attracted to his own kind, especially his twin brother. But that was another story, after all, since he had a delicious man not two yards away who was regarding him with amplified curiosity.
"I can't help but be inquisitive as to the structure of your wings," Vincent said, not showing any emotion. "May I see?"
Nodding, Dante stood, glad the water was both high enough and turbulent enough to hide his growing arousal. Vincent's hands on his wings didn't help the situation any either, as Vincent ran his flesh hand over the bone and webbing of his right wing. He shuddered, not wanting to even process the sensation coming from his left wing as cool, strong metal bit in and tested the strength of the structure. Being touched like that just made him want to throw Mister Valentine down and have his way.
"Would you allow me the same courtesy?" He didn't even both to control his voice, almost hoping Vincent could hear the unguarded desire.
"Yes," Vincent replied, turning and pausing, waiting. Dante turned slower, reaching to touch the edges and ridges of Vincent's wings, not so much inspecting them as caressing them, getting closer until his arousal brushed against Vincent's backside.
"Dante!" Yet it thankfully wasn't an exclamation of disgust. Dante brushed aside Vincent's hair and half-kissed, half-bit his neck, earning a seductive shudder.
"We should really get out of the pool for this."
"Agreed," Dante commented, already half out of the water and heading towards the nearest wall, where a few shelves protruded out, decorated with concoctions, lotions, and various other brews.
Vincent grabbed himself a pair of towels and spread them on the tiled floor, knowing it was going to be a rough ride no matter what precautions he took. Because really, the silver-haired devil didn't look much like a bottom. They never really did.
He stretched as he knelt, wings bumping the tile accidentally before Vincent settled himself properly, half on his hands and knees, waiting. And he was not to be disappointed.
Dante didn't want to waste time on the incidentals, and looking at the deliciously submissive posture his new lover had taken, apparently that was a shared thought. Grabbing the best seeming of the lotions, Dante quickly crossed back to where Vincent was waiting.
"Not much for foreplay," Dante noted, dropping to his knees and unscrewing the cap of the lotion.
"Not at the moment," Vincent replied, looking back quickly, dark damp hair swirling around his head.
"Didn't think so." Dante poured some of the lotion onto his hands, setting the bottle down and using one hand to coat his own arousal. The other he used to part Vincent's buttocks, slipping his thumb against the sensitive spot between Vincent's opening and testicles while pressing two other fingers into the warmth of Vincent's body, thankful that Vincent was relaxed enough to make this something easy.
Vincent made a noise akin to a swallowed moan, pressing back and forcing Dante's fingers in farther.
"I'll give you what you want," Dante said, pulling away and then positioning himself, thrusting quickly and roughly, reaching one hand to massage the base of Vincent's wings, earning cries of utter pleasure, loud and unrestrained. With the other hand, Dante got a firm grip on Vincent's erection and using the lotion he had left, it was easy to stroke Vincent counter-rhythm to his own thrusts.
Damn. He could hardly remember the last time he'd been so aroused, so totally into an act like this. This was a treat, delicious and absolutely impossible most any other time. The Villa Welc0me truly was a refuge. And even if an awkward, stuttering relationship wouldn't form from this moment, Dante knew he'd be satisfied anyway. What was driving him now was something deep and ancient, buried within him and only active when making hard, fast sex.
Perfect. Not wanting to ever stop, Dante knew he'd have to. He knew eventually he'd come or Vincent would come or they'd both pass out from exhaustion. And something in his mind told him Vincent was close.
Vincent's voice was rising again, moaning something incomprehensible as he buried his head against his arms, shaking, shuddering and finally coming harshly, spasming. Dante was almost surprised at the force behind Vincent's release, how violent it was.
And Vincent's climax was a perfect catalyst, triggering Dante's own release just as Vincentís ended. He knew he had to be leaving bruises on Vincent's already scarred hips, but he couldn't help himself as the thrust roughly and deeply into Vincent's body, fast, hard, and with everything he had until he felt as though his whole body had emptied into Vincent.
Both were breathing heavy, flopping down onto the cool of the tile but not really caring about that or the dull pain from laying on delicate wings.
"Why were you here, anyway?" Vincent asked suddenly. "Because Miss Kalli told me I'd be alone..."
"A set-up," Dante stated, frowning. "We were set up."
"Are you complaining?"
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