"Well, mother, you see the thing is. Dante is telling the truth," ... ... Praise God for Virgil, "There is just more to it than that," Dante cursed the devil for Virgil ... quite literally ... "Father wasn't in a great mood and we caused him to spill his tea."

"So you two were in the kitchen last night?"

"Ya, why?" Dante looked at his mother with a slightly laconic expression.

"Did you notice anything ... amiss while you boys were down here?" Dante froze and Eva began to pray ... not to Mundus of course, because Sparda would be jealous.

"No mother. Not at all. Nothing unusual happened," Eva turned to Virgil, who was now facing them, with a suspicious look fleeting across her features.

"Yes, I'm sure Sparda is just upset ... about his cup," Eva patted Dante's arm lovingly, "You boys stay safe, I'm going to go find your father," Dante watched as the woman turned, her long hair whipping against his arm as she disappeared out the door in a flurry of yellow skirts.

"V-Virgil?" Dante turned to his brother nervously ... and slightly offended by the earlier 'nightmare' comment. What was he going to say? What was there TO say if Virgil regretted it ... Virgil turned away again without a word, "Hey? I think we should talk ..." his brother still said nothing, turning and leaving the room when Dante approached. So THAT’S how it was going to be? So he was just going to ignore him from now on was he ... lets see how that would work with them sharing a room! Dante slammed his fist on to the counter.

"I hate you, Virgil," he muttered to himself; if the cold bastard was going to continue to act as he always did ... then there was no point in any form of 'relationship' at all.

~~~~~~~~

Virgil exited the room quickly, his face slightly flushed, his heart heavy and his head full of thoughts that wouldn't stay in place long enough for any form of contemplation. He had to think.

"I hate you, Virgil,"

The more subtle twin leaned against the wall beside the door, the air rushing from his lungs at the comment and the whirling thoughts halted by the few words.

~~~~~~~~

Sparda walked through the streets in a slight daze. What the hell was he going to do with his sons? Were they crying for attention? That was probably it; their parents weren't there enough so they had turned to each other. Maybe they were confused, or using each other! What if they hurt each other? Was ist das! (A/N don't ask about the German)

Sparda stopped, looking at the bar before him and sighed exhaustedly. There was hardly anyone around, no vehicles parked anywhere... Well, what could possibly be expected of a pub in the morning? But that didn't matter; the ex-demon soldier wanted to get plastered so that he could forget about what his sons had done last night. (A/N or get highly amused by it….)

Here went nothing! Sparda entered the bar—or maybe it was just a small restaurant—and began to look around, paying little attention to where he was going and neglected to lift his foot as far off the ground as he should have. Sparda's foot caught on the tile and sent him sprawling onto the floor. The tall silver haired man began a dominos affect, knocking over some guy, who bumped into a waiter who had a serving tray with 8 cups of alcohol on it. They went flying, spilling onto this rather enormous fat guy ... but he was sleeping so he didn't really care. When the ruckus faded everyone was staring at Sparda.

*Well, I didn't need to be THAT dramatic,* thought Sparda, standing back up, fixing his collar and smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt. After a minute or two and a couple snickers the people turned around as if nothing had happened and Sparda quickly found himself a seat at the bar.

"How graceful of you, Sparda," Sparda turned--more like flinched--to his left, who would know him in a place like this, in this form? Hadn't this man not been there a second before?

Sparda looked over at the tall man, his shoulders were broad and masculine ... yet somewhat elegant and graceful, matching perfectly with the sculpted chest visible through the plain white T-shirt and the strong thighs graced with faded blue jeans. Sparda didn't even register that he was staring as he took in the soft fall of silk like, baby blue, ankle long hair that was pulled up into a ponytail. The pin strait bangs that fell slightly into his face off set perfectly with the pale shade of his skin and blank, metallic grey eyes—my God this was Mundus!

"M-Mundus what—"

"Couldn't you even Try to be inconspicuous? You're in a human bar ... dressed like that," Sparda looked down at his clothing and blushed; he was wearing his purple clothing, neck tie, jacket and all! His mouth formed a silent 'Oh' as he smacked his head into his hand. How foolish of him, but he did, after all, just left in a spurt of 'I have to get out of here NOW! Omfg ...' so it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“Oops … but still, what are you doing here?” Sparda plinked owlishly as the other man put his elbow on the counter and leaned in close.

“What if I said I was looking at you,” he purred, licking his lips suggestively, as he flashed Sparda a grin that told of who ate the Canary. Mundus chucked at the flushed look that came to the other’s face from the close proximity of their faces, “I thought I was going to have to hunt for you … but, you just draw so much attention to yourself … especially with that little stunt you pulled on your way in,” Sparda blushed pink and turned his head away in a huff, the little spell that had him staring at the other affectively broken.

“This is not the place for us to fight—” he hissed, only to be stopped by a hand over his mouth.

“I don’t wish to fight you … you seem troubled. Are your children giving you a hard time?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said with slight dejection after a moments pause.

“I am aware. Tell me anyways. You seem … off. What? Did you find them screwing or something?” Sparda would have spit out his tea again … if he was drinking any, but he could make due with just choking on his spit, “I got it didn’t I? Hmm, I guess it is the same as if they had walked in on you and Eva …” Mundus’ eyebrow twitched, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. In fact, he grimaced as he was most likely finishing the sentence in his head.

“That is completely different! We are MARRIED!” he was practically freaking out so Mundus ordered him a scotch, which Sparda downed in one impressive swallow, nearly choking at the burning sensation of it going down.

“How is it all that different?”

“They’re brothers!”

“Your point?”

“It’s taboo!”

“You’re a demon, and Eva is a Christian … I do believe that is also taboo,” Sparda stared at Mundus with his mouth agape, he remained this way so long that the God decided to order the purple clad man another scotch … which disappeared just as fast as the other had.

“But … but …” Sparda stared at his empty scotch glass … which was once again taken from him and refilled. Maybe Mundus was right … there were so many things wrong with that sentence. But … for his children’s sake … maybe he should listen? But it was Mundus!!

“But what? Are you going to be mad at them for it? They’re what, seventeen now? I think they can handle themselves—“

“I can’t believe YOU’RE giving ME parenting advice! Damn it, you’re—” Sparda found himself silenced once again by a hand over his mouth as Mundus tugged on his sleeve to make him stand.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to fight.”

“No, that was you …” Sparda mumbled from under the long slender hand, getting himself a taste of the salty flesh with the tip of his tongue.

“Whatever,” Mundus removed his fingers and replaced them with his lips, the people that had been watching the short exchange averted their eyes, assuming they had just watched a gay couple’s ‘lover’s spat’. Sparda just stood in shock. His eyes wide—wait, not anymore; they had shut themselves about the same time he had melted into the—melted?! WHAT THE FUCK! Sparda tore his lips away from the other’s, unable to back away due to the slim arms surrounding his waist.

“W-what … what,” Sparda gasped out in shock as he was dragged out into the back allay, cat calls could be heard through the closing door as Mundus pushed him against the wall and leaned back in, hovering above Sparda’s lips.

“Don’t try to contemplate this … don’t try to rationalize this or fit it into one of your categories of right and wrong,” he kissed the smaller man lightly, “Don’t think,” Sparda found that to be the easiest command he had ever been given as strong, slim arms pushed him harder against the brick wall, lips bruising his own and trailing down, nipping at the side of his jaw. Hands were finding their way into his clothing, yanking the neck tie away and opening his shirt to gain access to a smooth white collar bone.

“M-Mundus!!”

~~~~~~~

Virgil stared blankly at the wall in front of him; It crushed Virgil’s heart to hear such words directed at him by Dante (of course, if it was anyone else, Virgil probably wouldn’t give a care). He frowned lightly at the unusual thoughts and, hearing Dante move to leave the kitchen, sprinted down the hall and into his room.

What was he? A child? Thinking such stupid things! He was above this, remember?! And who was supposed to remember that anyways? It seems like he himself had forgotten! … Had he really … with Dante? His little brother?

It was a mistake! It had to be … right? Virgil shook his head, no, it was not a mistake. And it was his own fault, if there was someone to blame, someone to be a target for pointed fingers, it would be Virgil. He had been the one to kiss Dante’s bleeding finger, as if Dante was some sort of Princess Aurora before she fell into that damned magical slumber and he wanted to save her … him….

Damn, he was such an idiot. And Dante hated him now.

~~~~~~

Ok, so maybe he didn’t hate Virgil, but Jesus! The way Virgil had treated him was infuriating! He may as well have just plunged his hand into Dante’s chest and ripped out his heart. In fact, he could stomp on it while he was at it! He was better off without it anyways; the stupid thing just wouldn’t shut up and leave him alone.

It was a mistake wasn’t it? A wonderful, wonderful mistake, like children … except they weren’t wonderful … that was probably what his mother thought about now. She knew didn’t she! She knew what had happened in the kitchen last night and now she was going to find their father! Dante flushed, it would be awkward for everyone when Sparda would say, “Oh, Eva, I already know it so. Woe is me … our sons have sinned, we’re going to hell”.

Dante growled as he pun. He loved his brother, and perhaps if he ‘could’ get back with Virgil, which, of course, he doubted, then his parents would have to bear with it! They would have to accept them both for.…  

“No, I shouldn’t be thinking like this,” Dante muttered aloud. He needed to find somewhere he could just relax his brains … perhaps that practically run-down bar? Yes, a couple of shots and his brain would be nice and mushy for a couple of hours … so he heard; speaking as he had never really drank in his life.

~~~~~~

“What?” the soft voice of Mundus whispered in Sparda’s ear, his lips giving out a tickling sensation as he spoke. They were both breathing heavily and probably for very different reasons.

“I … I don’t think … not here,” Sparda breathed, his face flushed brightly. This seemed to please the bigger man, and he smiled.

“Then perhaps at my place?” Mundus licked the side of Sparda’s neck, causing the ex-soldier to squeal slightly.

“M-Mundus, that is not what I m-meant,” Sparda huffed out breathlessly. He felt so powerless against this guy, “I just–I can’t–not with you–I’m sorry,” and, oh, was he sorry; Mundus looked hurt, and it affected Sparda in such a way he almost regretted rejecting Mundus.

“Of course,” now it was Mundus’ turn to flush with an embarrassed look that made Sparda feel giddy inside. Not only that, but guilty too, “You and your taboo, right? Are only some taboos allowed?” now Mundus just looked angry … which, oddly enough, made Sparda’s stomach twist around even more.

“That’s not—I’m married …” Sparda stammered off, drawing his eyebrows together as he watched silky strands of blue hair shift in the wind. God he had a headache. That was probably the scotch … or maybe he was just confused. Wait … “You’re jealous!” Sparda’s eyes went wide even as the small chuckle came from his mouth and he promptly smothered it with a harsh slap of his hand. Sparda gasped slightly as he was jammed against the wall and his hand was torn away to be replaced with lips and teeth.

Why did he like this so much? He was a man! Yet here he was, pressed against a wall being dominated while he grasped at another man’s ass … wait, when had his hand’s gotten there?

“What the hell!” Sparda yanked himself away from Mundus as he heard Dante’s distinctive growl from the entrance of the ally,

“Fuck it! I’m, going back home!”