♱Your favorite vampire's favorite vampire♱

Especially because it’s instinctive. If you’re particularly affectionate in the mornings, it completely disarms him. You burying your face against his chest, mumbling incoherently, your hand searching for him beneath the blankets without even opening your eyes. It affects him far more than he'd ever admit. You'd feel his hand slowly slide through your hair while he quietly exhales above you. That tiny gesture saying: I’m here. To reassure he still didn't leave.

Soft kisses against his jaw. Your fingers tracing over his hands. Sleepy “stay a little longer” whispers.

At first he tries to maintain composure. Then eventually he gives in with this low, quiet sigh and pulls you back against him. His forehead resting against yours with eyes closed as if this is the only place he truly allows himself peace.

You two sometimes ended up having morning sex. But if you initiated it after a particularly "active" night he didn't let you go any further. But it wasn't about denying you. He wouldn't let you do anything until he made sure you're not sore anywhere, you're hydrated and fed. It was about making sure you're comfortable and rested before anything else. Bringing you cold water to bed, making breakfast and adjusting blankets, everything with such calculated precision like he already knew you'd be eager in the morning as well. "Come on, Vergil, I'm fine"

"I can still sense you're exhausted." Before you can protest he leans in to quietly feel up your limbs if there's any tension in the muscles.

"You're being awfully protective" you whined.

"Yeah, I am being practical"

Later, when you lean over with a playful grin and murmur that perhaps the two of you could simply stay in bed all day together, with a clear suggestion, he regards you with that calm, unreadable look.

"No."

"No?"

"You require rest. And we both know that if we stay in bed together you won't get any." His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together. "I refuse to indulge you until you've fully recovered." There's a quiet firmness to it that leaves little room for argument making you pout dramatically.

"So strict."

"So you remain well."

Because most of the times sex with Vergil was intense. His demonic side often took over, letting himself go and loose himself in pleasure with you. And with his size stretching your insides so wide it always took a toll on your body in the sweetest way. But he'd never wish to hurt you. After making sure the glass and plates are empty and there's no more drowsiness in your moves his face softens. You step closer, slipping your arms around him. For a heartbeat, he remains perfectly still before his posture relaxes, one arm settling around your waist.

"You're so serious about this" you murmur affectionately against his neck.

"I have learned," he replies quietly, "that caring for someone means ensuring they do not ignore their own limits."

"And now?" You tilt your head. His gaze lingers on yours, warmer than his composed expression lets on.

"Now," he says, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek, "I have no further objections."

There's a playful glint in your eyes. "So that's my official permission?"

A soft, almost amused exhale escapes him. "If you insist on calling it that."