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At this point, hearing Vergilius throw jabs at everyone but especially Dante was, alas, routine.
Nothing was ever done well enough for his standards. Or maybe he just hated his job and needed an outlet, Dante frankly couldn't tell. And as much as Dante forced themself to pay attention when Vergilius was roasting them over an actual field mission, because as painful as it was, well... he was right that it was serious (even if Dante thought he'd give more accurate criticism if only he'd listen to absolutely anyone about what did happen in the missions)... so yeah, as much as Dante was willing to suffer through this, they were getting more and more fed up with the unending stream of negativity Vergilius could throw at them over Mirror Dungeons. These were training, for fuck's sake! There was no point in judging Dante for doing badly at them if it was not accompanied by advice to get better!
And maybe, just maybe, Dante was already on edge that day. They'd been experimenting with E.G.O overclocking, and it was admittedly a bit nerve-wracking. On the other hand, that Dungeon had been annihilated, so that technique was working... which made Vergilius' low opinion even more grating.
And despite what Vergilius could say (think? was he even sincere in his judgments?), Dante was listening and observing quite well. By now it was obvious that whatever Vergilius' real opinion of them was, he'd never hurt them. (Probably because they were too precious an asset, but they'd take whatever they could get.)
So maybe it was the left-over adrenaline from deliberately making four Sinners Corrode at the same time, or maybe it was just a long time coming. Anyway, Dante snapped.
<Cut the crap, would you?>
The Sinners had already been silent, but they still managed to freeze in a way that was impossible to miss. Vergilius glanced at them, frowned, and turned slightly toward Faust. Who resolutely stayed mute.
"Miss Faust?" Vergilius prompted.
"Dante's intervention was not adding anything pertinent to the current discussion," Faust said.
Dante couldn't blame her. But something inside of them was refusing to be reigned back in, so they grabbed their PDA. Vergilius' eyes immediately went to their fingers, following their firm typing.
Dante would have smirked if they could. Impressive how easy it could be to grab the Red Gaze's attention.
They turned their screen toward Vergilius to let him read.
[I said: "Cut the crap, would you?"]
Dante managed to catch the microsecond of shock on Vergilius' face before it was washed over by cold anger.
"I'm sure what you just showed me was only a mistake and not what you actually intended me to read..." Vergilius threatened.
Dante took their time to type their answer, relishing the fact Vergilius was waiting for them.
[This is no mistake. You're constantly inventing ways in which we, and especially I, do not reach the impossible standards you have. I get it. No need to lose everyone's time over it, even more so when you have no clue what you're talking about. You're not in the Dungeons with us, and it shows. Just say you despise me and leave it at that, it'll be simpler for everyone.]
Vergilius actually took the PDA from them to read, this time, and Dante watched as his fingers held more and more tightly on the device's frame while his face turned more and more blank. They saw Vergilius' eyes go back to the beginning of their message, reading through it a second time, before snapping to their face.
"Dante–"
They held out their hand, palm up. Asking for their PDA with an assurance they'd probably panic about when the high would fade.
To their surprise, it was enough to silence Vergilius.
He stared at their open hand, hesitated, then slowly gave the PDA back. Dante thought they could see a hint of color on Vergilius' cheeks, which would have been more impressive (Vergilius showing emotion?!) if they hadn't been distantly but very insistently wondering how dead they now were. Because Vergilius had already been utterly furious at a Sinner or another... or so they'd thought, but now he was visibly angrier than ever and they were the only responsible.
They mentally noted that, if they survived this, they'd really need to find a way to curve their response to an excess of stress.
"Come with me," Vergilius eventually ordered, tone dangerously low.
<No.>
Vergilius froze mid-step, and Dante shook their head to make their meaning extra clear.
"And what would be your reasoning for this new bout of insubordination?" Vergilius asked, somehow... failing to keep the usual razor-sharp danger lurking in his voice? He still sounded ice cold, but... there was something different that Dante was having a hard time pinpointing.
[I don't see any need to follow you. The conversation is over, isn't it? You made your point, I made mine. Do we have anything to add?]
Vergilius reached out a hand toward the PDA, but stopped with his fingers barely brushing against it, reading while Dante held it instead. He gulped. Glanced at the Sinners. Glued his eyes back to the screen.
His blush was definitely not in Dante's imagination... and suddenly they realized why Vergilius wanted so badly to move this out of the bus.
Vergilius, the terrifying keeper of the ultimate authority on board... had just utterly failed at making Dante behave. Failed so hard, even, that he'd been the one obeying Dante, even if it was for details. No wonder he wanted to keep the Sinners from seeing any more of this. For all Dante knew, the reddening of his cheeks might not be entirely anger but also part humiliation, at that point.
The silence stretched long enough for Dante to go from victorious to a bit guilty. They'd been justified in pushing back, they refused to change their mind on that, but... maybe they could have chosen something less... condemning.
(Not that they'd thought before acting, but still.)
They pulled the PDA back toward them, Vergilius looking up at their face with a tiny hint of... confusion? maybe? Whatever it was, it looked so out of place on him that it solidified Dante's decision.
[Alright, let's move this somewhere else.] they conceded.
Vergilius nodded weakly, and without a word turned toward the back of the bus, walking to the door while pretending to ignore the Sinners (who, in turn, were doing a truly fantastic impression of thoughtless furniture, proving they were able to be discreet if they really deemed it necessary). Dante followed Vergilius in the Corridor and let the door shut behind them.
Dante expected Vergilius to either turn on them with all his contained anger, or rage quit the conversation by ignoring their presence. Instead he glanced at them hesitantly before pushing open the door to his room, hovering at the threshold. Dante tried to brace themself (though with absolutely no idea of what was in store for them, it wasn't exactly easy) and took the obvious invitation, stepping toward Vergilius.
Once again they found themself behind Vergilius, a door closing at their back. The room was... reasonably normal looking, considering what the Corridor could offer. The only eccentricity was the density of frames covering the walls from floor to ceiling, all of them photograph-sized.
There wasn't a single photograph to look at, though. There were enough remnants to guess at them, but they were unreadable, either bloodied, lacerated, burnt, or outright missing.
Dante decided the situation was already tense enough without adding that line of questioning in it, so they forced themself to ignore the frames and focus back on Vergilius. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at where his hands were clutching at the cloth of his pants.
It was a bit unnerving to see him at the same time so passive and so visibly tense. Dante didn't know if they should expect an explosion at any moment. And yet...
[Oh, so you really didn't have anything to add?] they couldn't help but push.
They walked to Vergilius, who didn't look up at the sound of their steps. They gently but firmly placed the PDA in his field of vision.
"I–" Vergilius began before interrupting himself. He gulped. "I suppose not..." he eventually finished.
He was still not looking up at Dante. He still seemed way too tense. But Dante was beginning to doubt it was the kind of tension that would lead to dismemberment or any other violent wound.
[Come on. You did have an idea when you asked me to follow you.]
At that, Vergilius didn't verbally answer, but Dante noticed his blush intensifying, and his thighs clenching together tighter.
This was... not at all what they'd been expecting.
It was orders of magnitude better.
Dante used their free hand to bring an index under Vergilius' chin and slowly force his head up. Vergilius' eyes were a bit too wide, maybe, but this time they were firmly on Dante, as if magnetized, waiting.
(Dante could feel him shiver through their glove.)
It was intoxicating. (They could get drunk on that.)
Dante took their time to type their next message, deliberately more careful than necessary, keeping an eye on how Vergilius was glued to their every move.
[What do you want now, then? Tell me in details... or maybe you should just show me, given you seem to have trouble speaking, hmm?]
Vergilius stayed frozen after reading. At this point, Dante supposed there was no chance of explosion in their near future, and Vergilius was just looking so delectable like this, his blush slowly but surely reaching his ears, almost no trace of red left in his eyes... biting his lip and yes, Dante just had to get rid of the last of his hesitation.
[Vergilius. I asked you something.]
Vergilius glanced between the PDA and Dante several times before slowly, painstakingly slowly, unclenching his hands and moving them along his thighs. He stopped when his fingers touched the buckle of his belt and looked back at Dante as if to ask for permission or confirmation. Dante just crossed their arms, trying to convey "I'm waiting" without interrupting with their PDA.
Vergilius closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and undid his belt before opening his pants. He struggled to push them down without standing but finally managed, and after a short battle with his shoes everything fell off, pants and underwear left on the floor without a care, leaving him naked from the waist down.
Then he laid down on the bed and opened his legs, an arm covering his eyes in an obvious display of shame.
He was not exactly dripping, but it looked like it wouldn't take a lot to get him there. Dante could already clearly see how wet he was from where they were standing, and they were themself beginning to get seriously too warm. Vergilius, of all people, lying down for them, his cunt in display, so clearly aroused and so clearly embarrassed by that fact? It was a gift. A gift they'd never dare imagine receiving.
They bent over Vergilius, watching in delight as his breath caught when he felt the mattress dip as Dante put a hand on it next to his head. Then they gently grabbed Vergilius' arm to uncover his face. Vergilius blinked at them, not outright crying but eyelashes a bit wet.
He was downright edible.
Dante softly traced the contour of Vergilius' eyes, one after the other, gathering the not quite tears with their glove.
"D– Dante..." Vergilius tried, voice uncharacteristically small.
<Shh.>
They placed their index over Vergilius' lips to make sure their intent was understood. Vergilius stopped his attempt at speaking immediately, and the obedience sent a jolt of arousal through Dante. They wanted to take their time, though, and see how far they could take Vergilius apart. So they caressed Vergilius' lips, earning themself a sudden intake of breath, but no hint of a word.
<Such a good Guide...> they commented, deliberately teasing Vergilius with something he couldn't understand.
Vergilius just stayed where he was, waiting for them to act or direct him. (It was seriously hot.)
Dante trailed their finger lower, a light pressure over Vergilius' throat which bobbed with a harsh swallow (but, again, not a word). They followed a scar down the beginning of Vergilius' torso before reaching his shirt. Slowly, meticulously, half because they were enjoying cataloging every small reaction of Vergilius and half because they only had one hand to work with, they undid the first button. Vergilius' breath hitched and his eyes fell close.
<Oh, that won't do, precious...>
Dante brought their hand back up to cup Vergilius' cheek, thumb caressing the corner of his eye. A few seconds later, Vergilius was looking at them again.
<Better.>
They pushed Vergilius' hair back, away from his face, gently trailing their fingers through it. Vergilius almost closed his eyes again, but caught himself at the last moment.
It was almost sweet how eager he was to please. Dante refused to examine the contortions their heart was doing. There would be time for that later, when they wouldn't be trying to see if Vergilius would combust from embarrassment if they managed to make him beg.
They went back to opening his shirt, and this time Vergilius' gaze stayed mostly on them, only growing a bit unfocused here and there. Without surprise, parting the cloth revealed more scars. What was more interesting was how goosebumps would follow anywhere Dante's fingers traced. They pushed at Vergilius' clothes, freeing his shoulders, until Vergilius hesitantly moved to allow Dante to slip the sleeves off his arms. Once they had him entirely naked, they caressed his hair again as a way to convey he was doing as they wanted.
Vergilius pushed into their touch, then froze, averted his gaze for a few seconds, before finally coming back to Dante hurriedly. Dante petted him some more. After all, if it could at the same time communicate approbation and embarrass Vergilius, it was the perfect tool in their arsenal.
Then they made a show of looking Vergilius up and down. Him, entirely naked, vulnerable, legs still open, under them, fully clothed, in control. Vergilius clearly read their train of thoughts and began a move to cover himself with his arms before clenching his fists in the blanket instead, eyes a bit watery anew.
Dante wanted to see if they could make him cry so bad.
They trailed their fingers on the inside of Vergilius' thighs, drinking in every shiver and the visible efforts to stay in place when he desperately wanted to close his legs. His cunt was now glistening with his own wetness, though to be fair Dante was well aware that their underwear was a matching mess.
Dante straightened up, admiring their work for a few seconds, then fished back the PDA in their pocket.
[Maybe I should open the door and call the Sinners. Let them see you like this, so desperate for my touch. That would put you in your place, don't you think?]
Dante held the screen over Vergilius so he could read. His reactions to that were so entertaining: first shock, then his mouth opening on what would probably have been a protestation if he hadn't stopped himself from talking by biting his lip, after which he shook his head, eyes pleading, so close to teary... but at the same time, his low whine was not purely refusal. Dante was perfectly placed to see Vergilius' hips buck a little and a new drop of lubrication leaving him to slowly slide down his skin.
Wings, how could he be so hot?
Dante was still not entirely fixed on what exactly they wanted to do to Vergilius (fingering him with their gloves on sounded quite appealing, but forcing him to masturbate while Dante watched was not bad either... and they really had too many ideas). One thing was sure, though: they were too worked up to keep all their clothes on any longer. But the contrast between Vergilius' full nakedness and Dante's covered body was clearly doing something to Vergilius, and in turn Dante wanted more of these adorably sexy reactions. So they settled on taking off shoes and socks, pants and underwear, but keeping everything else.
Vergilius' eyes immediately fell to Dante's crotch, previous nervousness forgotten in favor of clear hunger. Dante waited to see if he would forget himself and move, but except for his chest raising and falling fast and his fingers twitching on the blanket, Vergilius was staying still. Letting Dante decide.
(It was a shame that Dante had ignored for so long that such a treasure was waiting for them, but they were resolved to make up for it.)
They dropped the PDA on the bed where it wouldn't hinder their exploration of Vergilius and proceeded to caress every patch of skin they could easily reach. Knees, thighs, carefully avoiding Vergilius' dripping cunt despite his pitiful whine, belly, torso... When Dante's hands reached his shoulders only to go back down his arms, Vergilius made a sound that was really close to a sob. Dante brought a hand to his face, their thumb softly pressing on his lips... and without any more prompting Vergilius opened his mouth to suck on Dante's finger.
It was Dante's turn to freeze. They wanted that clever tongue on their clit badly. There was not enough patience in the whole universe to allow them to do everything they wanted to do to Vergilius before losing their cool.
They pressed their thumb down on Vergilius' tongue, and he moaned, eyes fluttering close for half a second before he tried to focus back on Dante.
Yeah, no, patience was over, toying with Vergilius was so, so good but Dante couldn't wait any longer. They pulled their hand away, resituated themself on the bed to sit next to Vergilius, and plunged two gloved fingers inside his cunt.
Vergilius' whole body tensed. Dante waited for him to relax, but to their surprise they felt a shy tug on their sleeve. They carefully pulled out, grabbed the PDA and asked.
[Too much?]
Vergilius shook his head, eyes pleading.
There he was, on the verge of begging, only waiting for permission to express himself. Dante felt very, very powerful (and equally turned on).
[Oh? Is there something you want, then?]
Vergilius nodded frantically.
Dante pretended to think about it.
[Well, do you really deserve it? I'm not quite sure...]
Vergilius whined, eyes watering again. Dante managed to (pretend to) be firm for all of two seconds before folding because fuck, Vergilius was unfairly irresistible like this. (If he ever began doing puppy eyes at Dante instead of Spooky Red Gaze eyes, it was over for them.)
[Alright. Show me.]
Vergilius hesitantly sat up, looking at Dante like he was expecting them to stop him, before gaining enough confidence in the fact that Dante was genuinely letting him move to turn around and reach for the nightstand. He opened a drawer and pulled out something he placed on the bed in front of Dante a bit too fast, clearly embarrassed.
It was a dildo. And Dante might be lacking personal memories, which made judging that kind of thing difficult, but they were pretty sure it was a huge dildo. They looked up at Vergilius, already thinking of how they'd tease him about that, and discovered that Vergilius was holding something else, offering it to them, eyes flickering between their face and their torso.
It was made of strips of cloth, and buckles... oh. Oh, well, wasn't that interesting.
Dante let Vergilius marinate a bit more in his shame that he kept the harness to turn his dildo into a strap-on on hand even though he visibly had no one to wear it for him. When Dante eventually began to type, Vergilius' focus shifted to the PDA, and Dante considered reminding him to look at them but decided against it, because frankly at this point they were the one dripping on the bed.
[So greedy... My fingers are not enough for your hungry hole, hmm? Do you think of how empty you are all day long in the bus? When you're lecturing the Sinners, are you thinking of how disappointed you are that none of them is fit to wear that harness you're so preciously keeping?]
Vergilius froze upon reading. Dante wondered if they'd pushed too far or in the wrong direction, before realizing that Vergilius' thighs were once again clenched hard, and that it didn't fully hide the slight glistening trail between them.
[Go on, then. Put it on me.]
Once they were sure that Vergilius had read their message, they dropped the PDA on the bed, straightened up on their knees and lifted their shirt slightly to give Vergilius a better access to their hips. Vergilius obeyed, fast enough to appear eager, shivering enough to appear intimidated, and it was perfect. His fingers barely brushed against Dante's skin, and it was always reverent.
(Truth be told, Dante hadn't felt confident in their ability to figure out the harness at the drop of a hat, but it was working out so well with the general mood they were trying to set, so it was more an inspiration than a difficulty to overcome.)
Then Vergilius was done and sat back, waiting, his eyes glued to what was now Dante's strap. The dildo was pointing forward obscenely, and pressing slightly against Dante's folds under its own weight.
Dante would have wrecked Vergilius without it, but they were very far from complaining about this new development.
They slowly but firmly pushed Vergilius on his back, and he went down without a hint of resistance, his legs falling open again on their own. Dante knelt between them, grabbed the dildo and moved its head between Vergilius' folds, not pressing in yet.
Vergilius whined. Dante couldn't help but grab the PDA one last time.
[So this is it then? Each time you've been lashing out at me, you were actually thinking about how you wanted someone as low as me taking you? Were you getting aroused in front of everyone?]
Vergilius' hips bucked on a desperate moan, and Dante threw the PDA away to align the head of their cock and push into Vergilius, who cried out at the intrusion. He didn't seem in pain, though, so Dante went on pushing and pushing and– Wings, this really was a long dildo.
When they bottomed out, Vergilius' breath was a mess, and this time it was actual tears shining at the corners of his eyes. Dante was aware they should probably have prepared Vergilius more, stretched him, used lube... but Vergilius had clearly wanted this, and he'd been right that he could take it. It was a tight fit for sure, but it did fit.
It was raising fascinating thoughts about how used to this dildo Vergilius was (not that Dante needed any more arousing material right now, quite the opposite actually if they wanted this to last more than thirty seconds).
Dante still gave Vergilius a moment to get used to the sensation, going back to caressing his hair. Vergilius nuzzled against their wrist, eyes unfocused. It was a deadly mix of hot and adorable, and Dante would have so much introspection to do somewhere in the future, but right now...
"Ah!"
They pulled out slowly, but the girth of the toy was enough to rip a cry from Vergilius.
<You asked for this.> Dante couldn't help but point out, smug, even if they knew Vergilius wouldn't hear it.
They carefully pulled out almost all the way, pushed back in until their hips touched, then decided it was enough precaution. Vergilius was fine, he would not break in a bad way... so it was time to break him in a fun way.
Without warning, they switched their slow movements to a fast pace, almost brutal... well, no, given the dildo's size it was actually brutal. Vergilius nearly choked on a pained exclamation of surprise, his grip on the blanket tightening to the point of turning his knuckles white... but he also slightly rocked his hips against Dante, pressing closer to them.
Under their shirt and coat, Dante was already overheating, but they didn't care. It was worth it to see Vergilius lose his fight to control himself, eyes closing, mouth open as he struggled for air. They could feel sweat clinging to their skin, but it was eclipsed by how prettily Vergilius was trembling.
When they managed a particularly vicious thrust and Vergilius' eyes finally watered enough to have a tear slide down his cheek, Dante almost came on the spot, pushed close by Vergilius and the friction of the strap against them.
They wanted to know if Vergilius could come from the dildo alone, but they clearly couldn't control themself long enough for that. Their legs were burning with the effort to keep pounding into Vergilius, but they refused to relent. Instead, they brought a hand between their bodies, fingers seeking Vergilius' clit, wetness immediately soaking through their glove.
"Ah! Dante! Dante!"
They couldn't find it in them to remind Vergilius to keep quiet, not when he was screaming their name in a voice drenched in pleasure and adoration. Not when he was coming while doing so, clenching so hard on the dildo that Dante couldn't move it anymore, finding themself rutting against the strap.
They couldn't keep their orgasm at bay anymore, ecstasy ramming into them hard enough to make them lose track of their surroundings.
When they came back to their senses, they realized the slight echo in their head was probably the consequence of a loud gong they'd been unaware of letting out. Vergilius' eyes were closed and he was trying to get his breathing under control.
Cute how he thought Dante was done with him.
Their shirt was stuck to their back by sweat, they were in no shape to move their legs immediately... but nothing was stopping them from pinching and rubbing at Vergilius' clit. Which they did with no warning nor restrain.
Vergilius' full body jerked.
"Fuck!"
Dante let it slip. They didn't think Vergilius was quite aware of the fact he was talking, at this point, to be honest. Still impaled on the giant dildo, he couldn't shy away from the pressure of Dante's fingers, and watching him squirm, hearing him sob was a delight.
When Vergilius was finally forced into a second orgasm, his legs closed around Dante, lacking any strength to keep them from moving as they wished, but the contact a heady reminder that Dante had been the one to reduce Vergilius to this level of vulnerability. Dante went on caressing him through his high... and didn't stop.
Despite his obvious discomfort, Vergilius never attempted to escape their touch, not seriously at least, even though the small, clearly subconscious twitches were highly visible to Dante. They loved every second of it. Vergilius had put the whole of himself in their hands, letting them free to do whatever they wished to him, and they intended to take full advantage of that.
They started rolling their hips again, nowhere near the brutal pace from earlier but more than enough to wreck Vergilius after everything else. He whimpered, tried to hide his face in the blanket, and Dante realized that, this time, Vergilius was really crying.
"Please..." he begged, voice weak.
Dante slowed down and brought a hand to Vergilius' cheek; Vergilius' eyes blinked open and tried to focus on Dante through the blur of his tears.
<Do you need me to stop?>
Dante hoped Vergilius was still lucid enough to guess at the context and tell them if he wanted to stop. They began doubting when absolutely no hint of understanding appeared on Vergilius' face, but before they could grab the PDA Vergilius closed his eyes, turned his head to nuzzle into Dante's hand, and repeated:
"Please..."
Dante would still have been worried if that hadn't been accompanied by a small but firm push of Vergilius' hips toward them.
So in the end, they'd made him cry, and they'd made him beg. Everything they'd set up to accomplish, and it was so pretty on him... The least they could do was give him one more orgasm, right?
They sped up again and Vergilius cried out wordlessly. They pulled their hand back from his face to get a better grip on his hips, trying to fuck him a bit harder even if they were already tired. They were getting aroused again, though, so it definitely helped. (But who in their right mind could resist the vision Vergilius was offering now?)
Vergilius went on crying weakly, but Dante could now feel his legs encouraging them, and they decided that if there was a second time, they wanted more skin to skin contact. This felt good, this urged them on, but... well, they'd teased Vergilius with that word, but they were at least as greedy.
Eventually, Vergilius came again, and it was his broken voice calling out Dante's name that pushed them over the edge. When Dante's vision stopped swimming, Vergilius looked unconscious, which was honestly partly a serious ego boost (Dante had spent enough time around Don Quixote to hear the rumors about high ranked Fixers' stamina...) and partly... cute. Wings, yes, it was cute and Dante didn't know how to deal with the implied trust.
They could at least try to live up to it for now.
Slowly, very slowly, they pulled out of Vergilius, who twitched a bit but otherwise didn't react. They undid the strap's buckles while looking Vergilius over. He was a mess. (A beautiful, delightful, edible mess.)
Carefully, Dante moved to look into the nightstand's drawer, and was relieved to find a box of tissues. They put a few on the table to leave the dildo there without making more of a mess, then grabbed some more to gently clean Vergilius, both of the lubrication spread between his legs and of the tears crisscrossing on his cheeks. Then they did fast work of themself, made sure the PDA was in reach and laid down next to Vergilius, hugging him to their chest, softly petting his hair.
After a while, Vergilius began to shiver, and Dante pulled off their coat to cover him with it instead. Vergilius snuggled a bit closer to them, and Dante knew he was probably just instinctively seeking body heat, but... damn it, they'd really need to rethink... lots of things.
"Dante?" Vergilius mumbled in their shirt.
<I've got you.>
They made their hold on Vergilius a bit firmer and reached out for their PDA with their other arm, awkwardly typing one-handed over Vergilius' shoulder. They had to gently push him to unglue his face from their chest so he could read.
[How are you feeling?]
Vergilius blinked slowly, eyes hazily staring at the screen, and Dante wondered if he was able to parse their words. Then after what felt like an eternity he closed his eyes to lean against Dante again.
"I'm fine..." he muttered.
He sounded very much out of it. Which Dante found adorable, and they spared a second to fervently hope it wouldn't come back to bite them in the ass later.
They typed some more and had to insist to make a suddenly very clingy Vergilius move enough to read.
[Do you feel you can stay alone for a very short while? I want to fetch you some water.]
Vergilius hesitated, then nodded. Dante untangled themself from him, leaving him their coat, then reconsidered and pushed and pulled him until they could get him under the covers, Vergilius "helping" by clinging to the coat like a security blanket. When Dante was satisfied that Vergilius was at least comfortable, they hurried to the small attached bathroom to grab a glass of water.
Making Vergilius drink it was a test of patience, but by the end he seemed more aware of his surroundings. Enough to look embarrassed to have Dante take care of him (or maybe it was the fact he was still holding their coat).
Dante left the empty glass on the nightstand and joined Vergilius under the covers, hugging him again. Vergilius tensed for a few seconds, then positively melted against them. Dante went back to petting him, giving him time to gather himself.
"Is this... alright?" Vergilius asked after a while.
Dante nodded softly, but also grabbed back their PDA to make extra sure. Vergilius turned in their arms, his back now against Dante's front, and settled with his head under Dante's "chin" and his legs wrapped around one of Dante's. Dante brought their second hand to their PDA, the lying down position still a bit awkward to type but nonetheless easier than previously.
[This is more than alright. Are you feeling better?]
"I... suppose. Thank you."
Dante barely resisted the impulse to playfully nuzzle against Vergilius' hair, and only because their clock was probably not exactly comfortable.
[You don't sound very assured.]
"I'm fine! I– you're teasing," Vergilius realized.
[Yes. Sorry writing doesn't convey tone.]
"It probably could..." Vergilius mumbled.
Wings. Dante really wanted to keep him, now. Were they even allowed to do that...?
Vergilius sighed and somehow managed to cuddle a bit closer, one hand letting go of Dante's coat to grab their arm instead, and Dante began to suspect that they were asking themself the wrong question.
"We should go back to the bus..." Vergilius said after a while, sounding sleepy.
[Do you really want to move?]
Vergilius had to blink before managing to focus enough to read.
"... no."
[They'll cope, then.]
Dante was perfectly ready to just hug Vergilius until they both felt like moving (or fell asleep, which sounded more probable at this point), but a stray thought hit them and refused to be dismissed.
[Vergilius? What were you thinking about when you asked me to follow you?]
"... I was thinking of pushing you against a door and going down on you," he admitted shyly.
Dante felt like grinning. They briefly caressed Vergilius' hair before typing an answer.
[Maybe next time I'll let you, then, if you ask for it nicely enough.]
Vergilius hid his face in Dante's coat, which they counted as a victory.