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Cold
Author: Nyx Midnight
Rating: NC-17
Status: 1 of 1
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Type: Yaoi
Pairing: Dante/Tony Redgrave
Warning: —
Disclaimer: Dante, and Tony in part, belong to Capcom® and unfortunately
not me; no money being made out of this. However I did play with Tony a bit
and gave him a personality that match the impression he gave me from the artbook.
Let's say he's a semi-OC.
Feedback: Yes please! Critiques welcomed.
Spoilers: —
Thanks: Beta by Wolfsbride
Tony groaned loudly as he generously coated the condom covering his hard cock with lube, lust burning in his eyes as brightly as the lone candle on the bedside table of the dark room. Dante's bedroom. He was kneeling before Dante, on Dante's bed, in the middle of a power outage, as snow and wind battled outside to see who could do the most damage, and he didn't wanted to be anywhere else. How much weirder could this get, he caught himself thinking. Much weirder, it seems, as Tony lowered himself onto Dante's back, covering him with his own body as he guided his cock inside of the half-devil, groaning loudly.
Dante let out a groan of his own, looking at Tony over his shoulders, rolling his hips slightly to encourage him to go in, deeper, yes, like that, more, please, Tony.
Tony snorted at the utter sluttiness of Dante's act, slapping his ass soundly.
Dante grinned and alternatively clamped down and relaxed around Tony's cock, massaging his cock crudely, silently urging him to move. The red head acknowledged the unworded demand and pounded into Dante with all his might, knowing he couldn't hurt him. The groans and moans of both men soon filled the room; they panted harshly as they ground against each other, no time for flowery, mushy, gooey feelings: they were bored, horny and alone, and they needed to keep warm. Looking at Dante's face showing no expression other than raw ecstasy, most probably mirroring the hitman's own expression, Tony still found the brain cells to wonder how Dante had talked him into it, and, just before he burst deep into him, he wondered how he could have ever considered saying no.
Three hours later, Tony lay satiated on the bed, hot, sweaty, and feeling like he was painted in semen, softly moaning that he didn't wanted any more sex as Dante cuddled against him to keep warm, drawing the heavy covers of the four posters bed on top of them, asleep in five seconds flat. Tony raised an eyebrow at him, then decided he didn't mind, busy sticking to the sheet and savoring the afterglow. He wanted to storm to die and the power outage to stop, of course, but at the same time he never wanted to leave this place, this bed. After years of hanging around various bad crowds - not that Dante had such a good reputation himself - and spreading his bigotry, prejudices and hate all over the region, he'd found where he wanted to belong.
In the bed of a male half-devil, covered in sweat and semen, perpetually afterglowing.
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