[ The press of his fingers against the back of their neck sparks a heat within them that truly dispels any remaining weariness from their battle with Caster and his Master. Vaer had always known Vergil to be a dangerous man, his severity and attitude and thirst for battle painting a very clear picture... But like this, he is dangerous in an entirely different way, and one that Vaer had not anticipated despite their constant teasing and flirting leading up to this point.
The kiss breaks before too long, however; Vaer isn't quite interested in continuing this out here, in the rubble, the aftermath of Caster's defeat still hanging heavily in the air around them. ]
...We should make our way back and rest...
[ ...Before they forget, entirely, that they are in the midst of a war that could spell their demise at any moment, especially enraptured as they are with one another out in the open like this. ]
[The kiss breaks, and it'll always feel too soon. But logic, eventually, has to creep in between the cracks of an impassioned moment, never mind how much either would like for it to stretch on and on and on—
He inhales, forces his awareness outward. The crumbled state of the warehouse. Proof of battle strewn around them. A war, still ongoing, stopping for no one’s amorous moments. Vaer’s right. Vergil responds on the exhale.]
…You’re right.
[And so, finally, Vergil stands — his body far less thrumming with pain and injury than only minutes before, and offers Vaer a hand up. The warmth and fondness still thriving, caged in his chest, has not left, though he might keep it reined in just enough to say-]
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The kiss breaks before too long, however; Vaer isn't quite interested in continuing this out here, in the rubble, the aftermath of Caster's defeat still hanging heavily in the air around them. ]
...We should make our way back and rest...
[ ...Before they forget, entirely, that they are in the midst of a war that could spell their demise at any moment, especially enraptured as they are with one another out in the open like this. ]
no subject
He inhales, forces his awareness outward. The crumbled state of the warehouse. Proof of battle strewn around them. A war, still ongoing, stopping for no one’s amorous moments. Vaer’s right. Vergil responds on the exhale.]
…You’re right.
[And so, finally, Vergil stands — his body far less thrumming with pain and injury than only minutes before, and offers Vaer a hand up. The warmth and fondness still thriving, caged in his chest, has not left, though he might keep it reined in just enough to say-]
Let’s leave here.