Chapter Text
Nero’s sick and tired of Vergil paying more attention to his precious egg than his son. Who Vergil should care about more. Who Vergil should have been there for.
They never talked. Had barely spoken since the deed that landed him in this mess. Certainly not since Nero, terrified out of his mind, thought he was going in to labour when blood-tinged water suddenly gushed from him when he’d been watching TV with Dante. (“No no no, it’s too soon,” the bloody water was everywhere, soaked his jeans, the fabric of the sofa. He stood in shock, not knowing what to do. Then a pain the likes of which he’d never known before ripped through his insides and brought him to his knees. He’d been in hysterics, unable to hear the way his father and uncle tried to calm him, he clutched his belly, willing it to stop, for his baby to stay where it was safe. “No, it’s too soon, it’s not strong enough to survive on its own– AH!” The agony tore through him and fuelled his panic. It was dying, he was sure it was dying and it was taking him with it.)
Instead of an infant, what came out of him was… that. A shiny, obsidian egg. When he stared at the centre of it he could make out blue liquid shifting around in there. Nero didn’t linger for long. Looking at it sent phantom pains through his gut and he was reminded of that awful day. He’d long since healed but it had been so intense, being pinned to the wall by blades had nothing on that.
Nero assumed he was pregnant with a baby. Nobody told him to expect otherwise.
Maybe it was the human in him that was rejecting the inhuman offspring. In his absence as a caretaker, Vergil took it upon himself to care for it. He cuddled it, huffed on it, wrapped it in blankets.
It didn’t matter how much his fathermatethe sire of the egg made his way into Nero’s bed, it wasn’t enough
Vergil certainly tried, in his own way. The man rarely left his devil form since the egg arrived. Nero, made him feel good, (man, that tongue of Vergil’s devil form was crazy long. It was insane actually, and Vergil never stopped using it until Nero was made of jelly and he had to tap out. Turned out Nero’s limit was nine consecutive orgasms. He was sure he’d die if Vergil pushed him any more than that, no matter how good the pleasurepain of having his oversensitive clit worked over was of those thick, taloned fingers rubbing oh-so-carefully inside his pussy). By all accounts, Nero should have been pleased with his matechoice in partner for the offspring.
But he wasn’t.
Anger simmered just beneath the surface. It boiled, grew impossible to control when he saw how Vergil doted on the stupid thing. The stupid, dumb, useless egg that did nothing but cause Nero pain when it felt like it tore his entire lower half open, like the egg had claws and savaged him open to get out.
(He was angry. No. He was furious, a righteous, cleansing fury that he felt deep in his marrow. If he dug a little deeper below the fury he’d find hurt, carried by a little boy desperate for a parent to love him. Hoping and praying for the father he wanted to exist and to come to him and love and protect him, not abandon Nero and leave him the small boy for dead. He never cared to dig. His temper was useful as an armour.)
Everything got a little too much when Dante wouldn't stop gushing over how cute Nero’s baby was.
“It’s not mine,” he snapped. He was sick of hearing about it.
Dante cocked a brow. “Pretty sure it’s yours, kid. I saw where that thing came from.”
“That stupid thing belongs to Vergil.”
“You mean your baby?” Dante tilted his head to the side, a puppy trying to identify a new sound.
“That egg is the only thing Vergil cares about and it’s all his. So stop talking about it.”
-
When Nero went into his room, he found Vergil in his usual makeshift nest, blue demon form curled as gently as anything around the egg.
Nero was sick of seeing it. Sick of hearing it too, the demonic purrs. The only time Vergil left the nest was to slobber all over Nero.
Not this time.
He growled, demon layering in his voice. Nero might have shown his teeth too in warning, he wasn’t in control of himself at that moment. Vergil tightened himself around the egg, end of his blue tail thumped in response but otherwise ignored him.
There was nothing else for it. Nero lunged at Vergil and threw him across the room.
Egg quite forgotten in it’s thick nest of blankets, their fight was little better than a schoolyard scrap.
No weapons, just claws and gnashing teeth, wings and tails whipping to draw blood. Nero had a point to make and he wanted to make Vergil *hurt*. For his part, Vergil was meeting him blow for blow but refused to strike back, which only fuelled Nero’s fury.
Nero had Vergil pinned back on the wreckage of his bed. He snapped his jaws at Vergil’s throat, stopped only by Vergil’s wicked claws scratching at his face, his chest, the vulnerable soft parts of his demon body.
Nero’s growling reached a pitch he’d never heard from himself before and he latched on to Vergil’s arm to stop him. His fangs were buried deep in Vergil’s forearm, blood washing over his tongue and he held tight when Vergil growled low and menacing, jaw firmly locked when Vergil tried to fight him off.
Nero abruptly realised the position they were in.
Vergil, in his glorious demon form, prone with Nero straddling his waist.
What happened next was inevitable. They were demons. Bloodlust and sexual lust blended together as natural as breathing.
Nero stopped growling and the threat died with it. Then he slowly, oh-so-slowly relaxed his jaw and eased his fangs from where they were lodged in his father’s arm. He licked the wounds in apology, wounds healing to nothingness as he did so.
Vergil wrapped his hands around Nero’s waist and repositioned him further back, Nero’s crotch comfortably resting on Vergil’s shaft.
Nero mewled, delighted at the display of dominance. He rocked his hips, feeling how slick he was and how it spread over Vergil’s firm shaft. His spectral wings vaned in display for his mate. Vergil was staring. Nero grinned down at him, licked his mate’s blood off his lips with relish.
Nero needed that knot in him and he needed it now.
-
Nero calmed down enough to return to his human self. He was snuggled up against Vergil, leg tossed over Vergil’s thigh.
It was almost strange seeing his matefather Vergil with soft skin and those plush, kissable lips. He was getting used to seeing Vergil acting like an animal, skulking about on all fours. He never left the shop, not since the arrival of the thing tucked in blankets on the floor.
He stopped thinking about it. With a hand on Vergil’s chest, fingers digging in to the muscle there He leaned up and kissed Vergil, something he couldn’t do with a demon. It was nice and chaste after the frenzy from before, warm lips slanted together. Vergil’s hand was in his hair, carding through at the back of his neck the way Nero liked. A tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and Nero opened his mouth, not so chaste, but he was enjoying the attention. Then Vergil’s hand drifted down from the nape of his neck, over his shoulder, followed the dip of his spine down to squeeze at his ass.
“Ready for round two, old man?” Nero teased against Vergil’s mouth.
“Hmm. Nero.”
It wasn’t much of an answer, but the way Vergil’s hand slipped around Nero’s hip to cup his junk was answer enough.
The special attention from Vergil didn’t last long.
Vergil was still entirely focused on teasing pleasure out of Nero when he sat up suddenly, shoving Nero off in the process.
“The baby!”
Then human Vergil was gone and demon Vergil was back, doing that annoying purring thing as he stalked on all fours to the nest.
Nero swore from where he’d landed on the floor, not seeing a point in getting up. The stupid egg was fine. It had been left unattended for 20 minutes, max.
He’d reaffirmed to himself that Vergil really didn’t see him, Nero, as a son that he needed to care for. Certainly not as a mate.
Just as some… willing body to provide Vergil with heirs. The idle thought crossed his mind that this might have been what Nero’s birth mother felt as well. Was this why she abandoned him at the orphanage?
He could finally understand those feelings.
…
Did it make him a bad person that he wanted to do the same?
…
Once the purring got too much to bear Nero pulled himself up and staggered to the bathroom.
It was stupid, considering everything, but he felt the need to shield his naked body from Vergil. He didn’t want to be looked at.
He felt gross and used with the come between his thighs rather than sexy like he’d felt before that thing entered his life.
In the shower, Nero made a decision. He cleaned up, got dressed in the things he’d tossed in the hamper the previous day, and left without a backward glance.
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