Chapter Text
Nero was actually given about three seconds of warning, when the shine of his devil bringer ramped rapidly brighter, and the flesh beneath the armoring crawled. He ignored it. Dante was due back soon, after all.
"You want to hit it like this," he told Patty, "so that it spins." He demonstrated with a slow-motion strike of the stick against the cue ball. "That way, wh--"
Patty glanced up and toward the window just as the front wall of the building exploded inward, a deafening crash of shattering glass and pulverizing masonry. Nero reacted instantly and without thought, bodily grabbing Patty and hauling her around so that the flying debris hit him in the back instead of her in the face; he ducked his head, and then staggered against her when brick struck him with sledgehammer force in the back and shoulder and leg.
"DANTE!" roared some thing, and there was another crash that shook the floor as a cloud of dust rolled into the room. "Face me!"
Oh, shit. Nero clapped a hand over Patty's mouth before she could make a sound, and then almost cried out himself when he took a step toward the bar, the numb shock of the injuries crushed into his back morphing into stabbing agony the moment he moved. Patty clutched his arms, half-supporting him as he crossed the room.
He whispered into her ear, "Stay quiet. Get in the weapon room and close the door, and stay there, and stay quiet." Fucking hell, it hurt.
"DANTE!" said the devil again. "The son of Sparda cowers and hides?"
Patty struggled when they reached the door beside the bar, and Nero let her go. "What do you want me to do?" she whispered.
"Stay out of the way, and stay quiet." Nero opened the door and pushed her into the room, and then had to catch himself against the wall when his legs almost gave out. Patty gave him an incredulous look, and he shut the door on her and hoped she'd listen to him and stay put.
The devil was halfway in the room now, roaring, somehow trapped in the hole that spanned half the front wall between the staircase and the door. Its long neck craned, a dark shadow searching through the haze of dust. "Dante!" it bellowed.
Nero crossed the room toward his sword's case, not walking so much as falling in a controlled fashion as the thing reached an arm through the hole and pawed around. It spotted him through the dust cloud before he got to the sword, and with a howl it snapped its teeth toward him. The angle was wrong and it couldn't reach.
"Come and die, son of Sparda!" It pulled back out of the hole as Nero fell to his knees next to Red Queen's case.
The window above him shattered as the demon reached in at him through it, but it didn't try to come through the wall again and it clawed for him blindly. Nero got the latch open and his sword in his hand, and then the dust in his throat sent him into a coughing fit.
The cough was wet and bubbling, and the first twinge of fear went through Nero. No, no, no, now was not the time for a panicky flashback. He had to keep his mind off of it. There was a devil out there that would kill him instantly if he locked up.
It hurt so much to move, but he had to move. The injuries would take a while longer to heal, and he couldn't afford to wait on that. He sat on the floor with his back to the wall, sword to one side and ready. The devil's arm disappeared and its head, long and reptilian, came through the window above him.
"I smell Sparda's blood," it said, but Nero was directly under its throat and it couldn't see him. Before the thing rectified that, Nero gave Red Queen a rev and slashed upward.
The strike was weaker than he wanted, but it nevertheless bit deeply into the demon's neck. It screamed, the sound one of rage more than of pain, as it drew back out of the window; two seconds later, the wall behind Nero's back thumped inward as the devil tried to break through it.
The impact sent an agonizing jolt through his injuries, and Nero tried to ground himself. He could breathe. He was in Devil May Cry. That was a demon out there. He was okay. This was not life-threatening unless he had a panic attack. He put his talons to his chest. He could move, he was fine, this wasn't a problem as long as he kept a grip. His heart thudded, fearfully anticipating fear.
The wall thumped again, and masonry cracked. Far less force was being put into this attempt than into the one that had opened the hole on the other side of the room, but nevertheless Nero needed to move. He crawled on his hands and knees to the doorway, and stood up there, which hurt so damned much but the pain was starting to bother him less. Whether it was the adrenaline, or the way forcing the injured muscles to flex eased the shocked spasms, or that Nero was just getting used to the stabbing pain and paying less attention to it, it was less of a ordeal now to take a step and lift his sword. The change in position made him cough again, however, blood bubbling in his throat, and anxiety stabbed him in the heart. No. He wasn't going to panic, not here, not now. He wasn't afraid of this demon, and he couldn't afford to be afraid of the fear, either.
"You disappoint me, Dante," roared the devil outside, and the wall where Nero had been moments ago thumped yet again. "I had not expected you to hide. Do not fear me. I will only kill you and wear your head as a necklace. There are others who would bring you alive to be broken on the altar."
The creature stuck its head through the shattered window once again, and Nero slammed it into the floor with his devil bringer.
It recovered instantly, turning and snapping at him, lightning-fast, and Nero dropped to the floor to get under it. Hitting the floor hurt like a motherfucker, but Nero couldn't think about that; he punched upward into the demon's throat, directly over the slash he'd made. Again, the demon screamed. It clawed for him, turning awkwardly through the broken window in an attempt to reach him, which Nero evaded by moving farther from the window along the front wall.
Next to the door he stood up again, and coughed again, and the liquid in his lungs was getting worse but he was almost comfortable with it. If it was going to give him an attack, surely it would have by this point. He revved his sword to get it flaming, because that thing was going to come for him again and he was going to kill it when it did.
All was quiet, though. Nero waited, but the attack never came.
Eventually, the demon said, "Come out and face me, Dante. I tire of chasing you like a rodent."
Well, damn. Nero wasn't Dante, but if it was going to wait out there for him, he really would rather fight it in the street. He moved cautiously, peering around the edge of the hole and ready for it to strike at him again through the jagged gap in the wall, but it did not. It waited for him, coiled on the pavement, until he came out of the building.
The devil was huge, at least fifty feet long. Nero hadn't gotten a good look at it through the dust and confusion, only that it was dark and had a crocodile's face and long sinewy arms. Masonry dust clung to its head and arms and shoulders, but below that he could see that it was covered in black scales so shiny they looked wet. It was legless, but the shape of it was too thick to be snakelike; with the wet-looking scales, it reminded Nero more of a slug.
"Holy cow," said Nero. "You're going to be a challenge, aren't you?" He held Red Queen ready, and shook his right arm. That was about the only part of him that didn't hurt right now, but that was okay, he wasn't that badly injured. It had been almost half a year since he'd last fought a demon, but it was like riding a bicycle, really.
"Your father never cowered in a hole," said the demon. It slithered into a tighter coil, consolidating its position. "I must say I expected better from you."
It was on the tip of Nero's tongue to ask what the hell this thing knew about his father before he remembered that it thought he was Dante. He considered clearing up that misunderstanding, but decided not to; if it lost interest in him, who knew what it might do. "Hey, you tried to sucker-punch me by throwing a literal wall at me with no warning," he said. "I don't want to hear anything out of you about proper behavior." A cough wracked its way out of him, leaving a streak of blood on his talons.
"I did not expect cowardice from a scion of the dark knight."
Fuck this shit. "I'm standing right here in front of you," said Nero. "Are we going to duel or not? Because I have other things on my schedule besides you."
The devil might had been shaped like a slug, but it didn't move like one; it dove at him with all the speed of a striking cobra. Nero barely got out of the way of the snapping jaws, and then immediately had to fling himself the other direction to keep from being crushed to the ground by the demon's claws. His damaged muscles screamed in agony, but his body responded the way he needed it to, and he caught a second snap on his sword. The devil shrieked and bit down on Red Queen, trying to rip it out of Nero's hand, but he gave a powerful yank to slash the creature's mouth with the flaming blade.
An instant later he was struck and thrown to the side by the demon's lower body, whipping around like a tail. The impact when he smashed into the closest immovable object knocked the wind out of him, and shocked blinding pain down the left side of his body and through the injuries on his back.
When he tried to inhale there was blood in his breath and a stab of pain through his chest, and panic stabbed him along with it.
He jolted out of the memory of terror and agony when fresh hot pain - real pain - knifed through his right thigh. There was motion in front of him that, still half-blinded and half-panicked, Nero could barely see. With a cry he lashed out at it with his devil bringer and his claws caught on something, something that howled furiously and tore at the spectral talons hooked into it. Whatever it was that was stabbed through Nero's thigh was ripped out, and he felt himself lifted right off the ground by his devil bringer.
The memories rapidly faded, clearing his vision and mind; Nero remembered what was happening, and realized that he had the black-scaled demon by the tongue and had been hauled into the air when the thing threw back its head. It was frenzied, trying to bite his devil bringer but unable to penetrate the armor, and it raked its claws across him in an effort to dislodge him or grab onto him. When the claws slashed Nero it fucking hurt, but he was fully aware again. The instant of terror had somehow cleansed him, cleared his head of any impediment. The fear was gone, and the pain didn't matter.
He still had Red Queen in his left hand. When the thing's fingers tried to grasp him by the legs he put a foot on the devil's knuckle, and used that to lever himself higher so that he could jam his flaming sword straight into one crimson eye.
It got a grip on him a moment later and Nero was torn away from the demon's face when it snatched him, and threw him away. He landed on his feet this time, skidding from the force of the throw; it hurt like hell to use crushed and ripped muscles, but the pain was bearable. He could handle this. His heart was racing but there was no fear left in him. The irrational panic was dealt with and over, and demons never frightened him.
Most of the creature's bloody tongue was still in Nero's claws until the ghostly second hand vanished and dropped it, and the devil made incoherent gnashing sounds as it came at him again. Nero waited until it was almost on him, then stepped to its newly blind side and leapt to bring Red Queen down onto the gash over its destroyed eye. This time, the sword crunched through bone.
The demon went down, flailing, half-brained by the sword in its head. Its body thrashed, coiling and uncoiling, and its claws ripped into the pavement; Nero had to brace himself against the side of its head to keep his hold on Red Queen, forcing the sword farther into the devil's cranium through its eye socket, but the writhing was uncoordinated and he was in no danger anymore. When he ripped the sword out and walked around the thing's head, it tried to snap at him again but could only twitch.
"There's something you should know before I put you the rest of the way down," said Nero, as he flicked and revved Red Queen to set the sword alight. He coughed up more blood, and spit it onto the thing's face. "I'm not even Dante. You've been killed by Dante's minion."
It tried to speak, but the sounds were garbled and blood drooled out from between its teeth. The devil's eye rolled as Nero approached it; it was still squirming, but completely helpless now to do anything but watch him as he reversed the flaming blade in his hand. Nero paused with Red Queen above its eye, giving it a good look at its own death before ramming the sword down into what remained of its brain.
Once the devil stopped moving Nero hacked off its head just to make sure it stayed dead. The adrenaline wore off midway through the decapitation, and Nero simply hurt, all over. Even his right cheek was hot; he hadn't noticed it happen and didn't touch it to verify, but he assumed the thing had caught him in the face at some point. By the time the demon's head was severed the whole area stank of dead devil, a horrific smell that only grew more intense as the minutes passed, but Nero was quite pleased. This had been a pretty strong demon, and damned if it didn't look really good laying dead on the street.
"That was fun," he told himself. Now he wanted nothing more than to just lay down and wallow in pain for a while, but he had a higher priority. He limped back into the ruined office, every step he took with his right leg like a fresh stab through the thigh.
Patty was still inside the weapon room, sitting in the dark on the floor, and she gave a startled gasp when Nero opened the door. "You did it!" she said, scrambling to her feet, and he had to put a hand up to keep her from throwing herself into his arms.
"You need to get out of the building," said Nero, and he coughed. A lot of blood came up, but it was thick now, red-black instead of bright.
"Are you okay?" she asked, and then answered herself. "You're not okay. Nero, look at you!" She reached for the hot slash of pain on his face, but Nero ducked out of the way.
"I'd rather not," he said, and he took her by the sleeve to pull her out of the weapon room and across the building toward the hole in the wall. "You need to get out of here in case the ceiling comes down. Come on."
"Look at you." Patty obeyed, following Nero out of the gap the demon had punched through the masonry, but her eyes were on his torn and bloody clothes. "Look what it did to you."
Again he coughed, and he quickly wiped the blood onto his jeans before Patty could comment on it. "Yeah, it kind of hurts, but I'll be all right."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"No." He let her go once they were outside, and he went over to a parked car that was dented all up the side of it. The dent was about his size, he thought, and this car was probably what he'd struck when the demon had flung him with its tail. That made him laugh a little as he sat down on the pavement next to the rear tire, and then he doubled over to cough up yet more coagulating blood.
"Nero," said Patty, her voice anxious as she knelt next to him. "Nero, are you going to be okay?" She pulled his coat aside and then the edge of one of the slashes through his jeans.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," said Nero. "Stop that, just let me rest a minute." He turned away from her; he already knew he was hurt and didn't really need Patty to tell him that. Red Queen reeked of petroleum, strong enough at close range to overwhelm the miasma of dead devil, and Nero raised the blade to his shoulder and put his nose next to it to drown out the worse smell.
When Patty got a look at what was under the rips, she made a nauseated sound and clapped her hand over her mouth. "Holy ... Nero, look at you! I need to ... I'm going to go call 911."
"No," he said, and he caught her hand before she could stand up. "I'm just tired. Fucking hell, Patty, let me rest a minute."
"No way," she said. She kept her other hand over her mouth, and was staring at the rip in Nero's leg. "No way." She tried to stand up again but he wouldn't let her go. "Nero, please, I have to call someone."
"I'll be fine," he said. She twisted her hand, but he was way stronger than she was and it was easy to keep her trapped. "I don't want you calling anyone. I just want to sit here a minute. Please, let me."
She gave up, unable to get her hand out of Nero's grasp. "Okay," she said, quietly. "Please don't die."
"I'm not gonna die." He coughed again and closed his eyes, just wanting to not move for a while.
It didn't take long, however, for the wail of sirens to rise in the distance anyway. Damnation. One of the neighbors must have called the cops, and he couldn't just walk away from this one to avoid them the way he usually did. He released Patty - no point holding her now - and put his glowing hand into his coat to conceal it. Hopefully, nobody would try to make him move.
That was how Dante found him upon arriving home, still on the ground next to the car with two police cruisers flashing their lights and blocking the street on either side of the dead devil, and more on the way. Nero had relinquished Red Queen to the first cop to ask for it, just because he didn't want to deal with the hassle, and he was fending off another one trying to assess his injuries before the EMTs arrived.
He knew by the itch in his palm that Dante was near, and he looked up to see the older hunter come around the nearest police car. One of the officers immediately intercepted him and tried to bar him from the scene, so Nero forced himself to his feet.
"Sir," said the cop next to him. "Don't try to stand up. Come on, sit back down, paramedics are on the way."
Thank Sparda. Dante would know how to deal with this. Nero steadied himself against the car as the cop tried again to get him to sit down, but Nero knew he was hardly bleeding and he could feel the wounds closing already. It hurt to move, and especially to walk, but not as much as it had fifteen minutes ago.
"Sir, I really have to ask you to sit back down," said the cop.
"I'm going to be fine," Nero told him. "If you really want to help me, help me go over there."
Patty got to Dante first, as he was pulling out his wallet, and gave him a close hug. Nero couldn't hear what she said, but Dante looked his way a moment later and frowned.
"That's my nephew there," Dante was saying when Nero limped close enough to hear. "I live here."
"Dante," said Nero, raising his voice to be heard. "I am so glad to see you." He slumped against the side of the police cruiser.
"Damn, kid," said Dante, looking him up and down. "Haven't I taught you not to bring your work home with you?"
"Hah," said Nero. He wasn't angry, though, too relieved for that. "Make all of this go away, will you?"
"Don't worry. There's a whole procedure for when devils take out a city block."
Nero had expected that, but that didn't mean he wanted to deal with it. He'd always managed to escape the area quickly enough to not have to deal with it in the past. "I just want a good night's sleep," he said, although now that he was standing between Dante and the devil he'd slain he thought he might want more than that.
The cop that had stopped Dante frowned, and handed him back his concealed weapon license card. "This was a devil?"
Dante put the card back in his wallet, giving her a queer look. "Are you new here? Yes, this was a devil. What the hell did you think it was?" He glanced toward the demon, then for a moment up toward the roof of the building next door.
"I kind of thought it was probably a devil, but you can never be too sure." She turned to Nero and said gently, "An ambulance is on its way. Sit back down."
"I don't think he needs one," said Dante. Then he gave Nero a frown and pulled his coat aside and looked him over. "Or do you? What'd you do, kid, let it eat you?"
"No!" Nero yanked his coat out of Dante's hand; the last thing he wanted was to have his devil bringer uncovered here and now. "I just got scratched a little. I'll be fine. But if you want to bring home dinner later, I won't say no to that."
"Bring it home to where, exactly?"
Nero glanced over his shoulder at the staved-in front wall of the office. "Oh, yeah."
"What happened?" When Nero cast a significant look at the cop standing next to them, Dante added, "Kid, the police in this town have seen it all. What happened?"
"... it's not much of a story," said Nero. "We were playing pool, and this thing just came through the wall at us. And ... that's pretty much it. Then I killed it." More sirens crescendoed up the street, and Nero banged his head on the top of the police cruiser when he saw that it was another police car and the ambulance. "I don't need an ambulance," he whined.
Patty, standing next to them both, gave Nero a very skeptical look. "Nero, you're ripped apart. You've been coughing up blood!"
"Yeah? Well I'm not anymore." Nero wiped his mouth just to make sure there was no blood there now. "I'm just tired as hell and want a nap." And he wanted Dante; now was not the time to say that, but it was becoming difficult for Nero to stop thinking it. Despite – or perhaps because of - the burn of his injuries, he was starting to get seriously aroused. He pulled what was left of his coat closer.
What the cop thought of any of this was impossible to know. "Will you at least let the paramedics look at you?" she asked Nero.
It was tempting, so tempting, to just tell the cop that he was a devil, and in the morning it would be impossible to tell he'd ever been injured. "Holy shit," he said. "Will it make you leave me alone if I say yes?"
"He doesn't need anyone to look at him," said Dante, peering again up toward the building's roof. "He's a devil hunter, and scrapes are part of the job description."
"Right." Nero pointed at Dante. "Listen to him."
The EMTs were just as baffled as the cops that Nero didn't want to have anything to do with them, but they couldn't treat him without his consent. They made him sign a form declaring that he had refused treatment, and around that time two more cruisers arrived and there were cops all over the place. Nero was ready to leave.
Someone who seemed to be in charge showed up with the latest influx of cops, and Dante went over to talk to her. Patty stayed with Nero, and eventually said, "Thank you."
"Don't worry about it," he told her, but she looked so upset that he had to give her a smile and pull her closer to give her a kiss on the forehead. "Really, I'm okay." It hurt to move that way, but Nero was getting used to it and the pain wasn't what it had been.
"You look gruesome," she said. Nero felt no need to reply to that.
In silence they watched Dante across the street, talking with the officer in charge. It was a fairly calm discussion, although the cop kept looking Nero's way. Dante gestured while he spoke, and he looked good, so good. So deadly, but dealing with these humans with gentle patience. Nero huddled his jacket closer, not wanting his arousal to be obvious.
Presently Patty said, "That demon was after Dante."
"Yep."
She shifted uneasily. "Do you think it's bad that I'm glad I'm leaving for school in less than a month?"
"I'd think you were kind of nuts if you weren't."
The police took statements from Patty and Nero while Dante went into the building to pack a few things and move all his weapons into the back seat of the convertible. Then Patty went home, the cops gave Red Queen back to Nero, and Dante took Nero to a nearby motel. They had to stop to pick up Rebellion, which Dante had wisely stashed behind a dumpster around the corner when he'd seen the police cruisers, and Nero, worn out, almost fell asleep in the car.
Dante roused him after they were checked in at the motel, and helping Nero limp into their room cured Nero of his weariness. Dante was so strong, practically carrying him, and the pain of moving put that dead devil back into Nero's mind. The moment the door was closed, Nero started to kiss the side of the older hunter's neck.
"Damn, kid," said Dante. "Can't you even wait for me to get your clothes off?"
"That thing put up a good fight," said Nero, and that was all he wanted to say because he was more interested in tonguing the line of Dante's jaw.
Dante caught him by the chin and gave him a long and deep kiss, and then whispered against his lips, "You stink like dead devil."
Nero laughed a little. His cheek hurt again, from flexing with the kiss. "Will you give me a bath?"
"That was the plan."
It turned out that Dante's help was badly needed, because a lot of the blood on Nero had dried by this point and peeling his ripped clothes from his injuries was difficult and painful. Dante helped him take off his coat and boots and had him stand in the shower, and then took off his own coat and shirt so he could turn the shower on Nero and carefully wet him down to free up the adhered cloth. It might have been impossible for Nero to get it off his own back and the backs of his legs without violence, but Dante slowly loosened the cloth and pulled it away from Nero's skin with only a little pain.
"Holy shit," said Dante, as he exposed Nero's shoulders. "Did you get thrown into a wall?"
"No, the wall got thrown into me."
Once he was stripped down, Nero picked up his coat from the floor to give it a look. "I don't know if this is repairable," he said. The devil's claws had all but shredded the back of it and the right shoulder.
"We'll get you another one," said Dante. He took the coat out of Nero's hand and dropped it back onto the floor, and then shed his own pants so that he could join Nero in the shower. The moment the pants came off, so that his hard erection was no longer concealed, Nero sighed with pleasure.
"Are you going to fuck me tonight?" he asked, turning to put his back to the wall. He did it gingerly, but the pressure against the crush injuries on his shoulders wasn't nearly as painful as he'd expected.
Dante stepped close, so that he was under the spray and Nero could run one hand over his chest and shoulders. "If you want me to, and I can do it without hurting you."
"No, no. I want you to hurt me. I want to feel it." Nero clasped Dante's cock with his left hand, firmly enough to make the man groan and thrust hard into the pressure. Dante braced his hands on the wall on either side of Nero and lipped Nero's chin, his hips again jerking forward.
"You've been hurt enough today," said Dante, and then he kissed Nero, hard and deep. Nero began to stroke Dante's erection, resting his claws on the man's shoulder but he consciously kept himself from digging in.
It was not originally Nero's intention to get Dante off right there in the shower, but it felt so good to kiss him and feel the tension in his body, and the power in his hips as he fucked Nero's hand. He had no idea what Dante had had to put up with today, other than coming home to find cops all over the place and the front wall of his home staved in, and Nero found that he didn't care. Whatever it was, even if it was nothing aside from that, he deserved whatever Nero could give him.
Nero started to drop to his knees so he could deliver a blow job, but Dante stopped him before he could get down. "What are you doing?"
"I want to," said Nero.
"I thought you wanted me to fuck you," said Dante.
"It'll be better this way." Nero put his hand around Dante's cock again, and let Dante feel the prick of talons on his shoulder. It had the intended effect; Dante stopped arguing and resumed kissing Nero, and didn't complain a second time when Nero tried to go down on him.
They moved so that Dante could put his back to the tile, and he stroked Nero's hair as water ran through it and down Nero's body. The slash across Nero's face stung as he opened his mouth on Dante's erection, but he could tell it was healing and the sting only served to arouse him more. He'd sustained the wound killing a demon on Dante's behalf, and he liked the feel of it.
There was no flavor and little scent left on Dante's skin, but it was nevertheless a positive pleasure for Nero to take as much of that hard cock down his throat as he could manage. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of warm water flowing through the half-healed wounds on his back and shoulder, and sucked and pulled and tongued Dante's cock until the fingers in his hair started to curl. Yes. Dante knew that actually grabbing Nero by the hair wasn't a good idea, but he clearly wanted to and was having to work to restrain himself. Yes. Nero didn't touch his own erection, because he didn't want to come this way, but his cock ached almost as much as his wounds.
"Shit," Dante whispered, so Nero growled a little because he knew Dante liked that. He was rewarded with a strained half-thrust into his mouth that almost choked him, and then the hands left his hair as Dante slapped them against the shower wall next to himself. Yes. "Nero ..."
The half-warning came at the same time as the first taste of Dante's semen, and Nero growled again as he sucked hard. Dante stifled a rough sound, his breath fast and harsh as he came into Nero's mouth, and it sounded so good. Nero could have listened to that forever.
"Stop," said Dante, and Nero stopped sucking but he couldn't keep himself from kissing and licking Dante's hips and the upper junction of his thighs. He was so aroused, almost desperately so, but for now all he wanted to do was rub the uninjured side of his face against Dante's skin and feel the solid muscle beneath. He'd kill for this devil, and had done so less than three hours ago.
When Dante got his head back together he pulled Nero to his feet, and when he reached down Nero had to stop him. "I want you to fuck me," Nero told him, kissing his chin.
"Oh, shit," said Dante, with half a laugh. "I thought you changed your mind."
"No. I can wait. I want to wait."
"You know, you could just tell me what you're after." Dante laid soft kisses across Nero's throat, and gently bit under his jaw. "And not make me try to guess."
The soft bite made Nero moan. Yes. He wanted a stronger bite, a dominating bite. "I want you to fuck me," he said. "I want it to take forever."
"Hmmm." Dante nudged Nero back, and then had him turn around so that Dante could very gently wash his back. It hurt, the soap stinging the still-open wounds, but Nero just closed his eyes to enjoy how the pain put an ache into his cock. "I know you haven't seen yourself lately," said Dante, "but you are torn up. I don't want to hurt you."
"I already feel better." Nero put his face under the spray, just wanting to feel it in the slash on his cheek, and then leaned his forehead against the wall under the showerhead to let the water run down his back. Dante's careful hands and his presence, so close by, were enough to keep Nero's arousal hot and high. "I want you inside me," he said, "but slow."
Dante made no reply to that, and simply continued to clean Nero down. The puncture through Nero's thigh was really the worst injury, closed on the surface but lancing with pain every time Nero moved; even if he hadn't been aroused, it would have been nice to be able to just stand there and not have to twist or bend. Dante's hands, though, moving slickly over him, were pleasure on unbroken skin and pain on the wounds, and that was enough to make Nero moan.
"You know," said Nero, "that demon only went after me because it thought I was you."
"That so," said Dante. He pulled Nero back until the spray hit him in the chest, and started to gently soap his hair.
Oh, that felt amazing. "It kind of gave me the impression there might be more coming later."
"We'll worry about that when later gets here."
By the time Nero was clean and rinsed to Dante's satisfaction, he was about out of his mind with desire. He caught sight of his reflection while he was drying himself, though, and had to pause for a better look.
Even cleaned of blood and partially healed, the cut across his face looked horrific; it must have been down to the bone when fresh. The ones across his thighs went deep into the meat under his skin. He turned a bit to see the back of one shoulder, which looked like some of the flesh had been partially sheared, and the two slashes he could see were just as bad as the ones on his legs.
"Damn," he said.
"Yeah," said Dante. "Damn."
"I thought that brick hit me square on, but I guess not." The crushed skin and muscle on his shoulder were an inflamed red as the injury knitted itself back together, and the deep slashes were still oozing blood. It all looked far worse than it felt, but it was no wonder everyone was treating him the way they were. "That would have killed Patty."
"You sure you want to have sex?" asked Dante. He stepped behind Nero, looking at him through the mirror.
Nero took one of Dante's hands and pulled it down between his legs, curling Dante's fingers under his balls. He was so hard, his cock aching. "Damned sure. Unless I look too bad for you to get it up."
"That's ... not exactly the problem." Dante eased his hand lower and took Nero's testicles in a firm grip. He moved half a step closer, until Nero could feel the beginnings of a fresh erection against his rear.
"Oh." Nero grinned. "Seeing me ripped apart by a demon I killed for you turns you on." He leaned his head back and to the side, until Dante made a low sound and began to kiss the junction of his neck and shoulder.
"That's kind of fucked up, isn't it?" Dante murmured against Nero's skin.
"Yeah, but obviously I'm fucked up, too." Nero turned his head farther and put his hand on Dante's head, pulling him down, urging him to bite.
"I don't want to hurt you," Dante whispered. A moment later he tightened his hold on Nero's balls with one hand and put his other around Nero's throat, and opened his mouth to deliver the bite Nero wanted.
The pain - nothing next to the pain that devil had clawed into Nero's flesh - and the controlling grip settled Nero immediately, and he relaxed into the hold. Dante's hips rammed against his, and there was more pain when Dante's chest pressed against his back but it wasn't terrible. Nero moaned and put his left hand over Dante's on his throat, encouraging a tighter grip. "Yes. Fuck me."
Dante all but carried him out of the bathroom by the throat and threw him face-down onto the bed. The coverlet was rough when Nero fell onto it, so he stripped it back to the smoother sheets as Dante unzipped the duffel; then Dante's hand on the back of his neck forced him to lay down on the edge of the bed.
"Yes," said Nero, almost panting from how turned on his was. He gripped the sheets with his left hand, and sank the claws on his right into a pillow. "Do it. You know you want it."
"Tell me if I hurt you." Dante's voice was strained. He let Nero go, and Nero heard him get a condom and lubricant onto himself; then the mattress went down as Dante rested his weight on one hand next to Nero's body. "I don't want to hurt you."
The tension behind the words told Nero otherwise. "Come on," said Nero. "You know what killing a strong demon does to me."
There it was, the pressure of Dante's cock between Nero's buttocks, and Nero raised his hips to make the penetration easier. His back arched as the pressure overcame his body's resistance and invaded him, and fucking hell it felt amazing. The way Dante's cock stretched him, how deep inside him it went ... even the initial cramp of pain was exactly what he needed.
Dante put his other hand down next to Nero, and paused with his cock fully inside the younger man's body. "How do you want this?" he asked, and the question came between harsh breaths.
"Hard and slow," said Nero, and Dante obliged. Each thrust was sharp and powerful, but Dante took his time withdrawing for the next; each one gave Nero a shock of pleasure that was almost as good as any orgasm he could give himself. It was intense at first, and Nero had to bite the pillow to keep his moans at a reasonable volume, but after a while the pleasure began to blend together and Nero just sank into it. The pain of his injuries evaporated under the force of the ecstasy that flowed up his spine and down his limbs, and drove a soft cry from his throat with every movement of Dante's hips.
He forced himself to keep clutching the sheet, because he knew he'd come in short order if he touched himself, and he wanted this to last. He could have taken this forever.
After a while, though, Dante's hand moved to the back of Nero's neck, and his thrusts began to quicken. "Nero," he whispered, but when Nero tried to move, the hand on his neck pinned him to the bed.
Yes. Dante's sudden aggression meant he was starting to forget what he was doing. Nero tried again to sit up just to make Dante press him down harder; the wrong side of his face wound up against the mattress, and the slash across his cheek burned as Dante forced it against the sheet. The sting and the demand in the hand on his neck, and the growing urgency of the cock driving into him, immediately shifted Nero's frame of mind. Yes, he would submit. Yes, he was sexually available to the more powerful devil holding him down, for whatever purpose Dante wanted to put him. Nero lifted his hips a touch to make it easier for Dante to fuck him, and the pressure on his neck eased.
It felt so damned good to be held down this way - practically the only way he could be held down without triggering a panic attack - and fucked hard. As much as Nero had enjoyed the encounter up to this point, the pleasure now started to go out of control. He couldn't help it ... he shifted to get his left hand between his legs. Although Dante snarled and shoved his face down into the mattress as punishment for moving, Nero couldn't care. He wrapped his hand around his erection, and fucking hell it drove him straight out of his mind. He bucked mindlessly, not stroking himself so much as fucking his hand, until the pleasure snapped and he came with a rough cry.
A minute or so later, Dante snarled again and came as well, and then rested with his weight on his hands and his body held above Nero's. With the hold on his neck gone, Nero was able to stretch, and turn a bit to get his injured cheek off the mattress.
"Damn," he whispered.
Dante seemed content to stay that way indefinitely, so after a couple of minutes Nero nudged him to wake him up and get him to move. While Dante went to the bathroom to clean up, Nero just crawled the rest of the way up onto the bed and lay down on his belly. He was tired now, and completely sated. That was exactly what his body had craved.
Now, though, it craved something else. "Hey," he said, when Dante came back out of the bathroom and started to get dressed. "Want to get me some dinner?"
"Heh." Dante sat down next to Nero's head and ran gentle fingers through his hair. "I have to do all the work, do I?"
Nero pointed vaguely at the pain on his face. "I don't mind going myself, but do you want me to walk into a burger joint like this?"
"Absolutely not." Dante leaned down and gave the back of Nero's head a kiss. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
"Thanks." The promise of imminent food made Nero's stomach rumble.
Dante threw Nero some underwear and then pulled a blanket over him, and finished getting dressed. The money from the safe behind the bar turned out to be in Nero's duffel, which was kind of a relief for Nero to see.
At the door, however, Dante paused, looking out into the parking lot. After a moment, he said, "Hey, kid. Did you happen to notice anything out of the ordinary back when you were fighting that devil?"
"Other than it throwing a wall at me? Not really. Why?"
"I dunno." Dante peered around, stepping outside to look up at the top of the building and around at the trees. "I keep getting the idea there's another one somewhere nearby. I can't be sure, though."
"It had better stay out there," said Nero, too comfortable to be very interested. "I'm in no mood for bullshit right now." Then, a little confused, he said, "Can't you always tell if there's a demon?"
"Not the really weak ones. Not always. The dangerous ones, yes, but the small fry sometimes fade into the background." Coming back into the room, Dante picked up Red Queen from where it rested against the motel room dresser, and relocated it next to the bed. "If there is one out there, I'm not sure I should leave you here alone."
Nero just closed his eyes. "I'm really damned hungry, and before you say it, no, I don't want pizza. I'll be fine. I'm just tired, not incapable. Go on."
Dante hesitated, reluctant, but eventually said, "... okay." He picked up his keys, and locked the motel room door behind him.
It should have been easy for Nero to drift straight off to sleep, but when he was almost there a faint whisper breathed across his mind. It sent a chill down his back, and roused him immediately. "Fuck," he said. He rolled a bit so he could look at the dresser, and the white-hilted sword resting on it next to the television set, surrounded by Dante's other devil arms. "I don't care. Leave me alone."
He knew, though that the cold whisper was right. He could be back to normal in seconds, rather than hours, if he just picked up Yamato for a moment. He'd handicapped himself by not taking Yamato with him to take out that demon, and now he was doing it again by letting his wounds close at their ordinary rate.
It wouldn't take long, and he could put the thing back down again after he was better.
"No," said Nero, mostly to himself. The whisper did not repeat.
Nero woke suddenly in the night to a hand around his throat and a weight on his body. He'd rolled over onto his back in his sleep, and Dante had a leg between his to restrain his hips, and an arm over his chest to hold him down. The grip on his throat wasn't choking, but it was tight and brooked no resistance.
He reacted by reflex and habit, raising his chin and forcing his muscles to relax. I'm no threat. Anxiety settled into his belly, though ... if he panicked, this would turn dangerous.
"Dante," he whispered.
The hold on his throat eased, and Dante nuzzled his cheek. Nero turned to take the drowsy kiss being offered, and he was released when he tried to pull away. A moment later the kiss died as Dante dropped back to sleep. Nero turned back over onto his belly to get more comfortable and went back to sleep himself.
When he woke again it was to brightening light coming through the curtains. The crushed and sheared flesh on his back and shoulders was whole and almost painless, and when he touched his face he could feel only a superficial scratch, like what an aggressive cat might leave.
He was damned hungry, but he eased himself out of bed so as not to wake Dante, put on some pants, and while his lover slept he settled on the floor with Red Queen and his cleaning kit. At some point Dante had wiped off the devil blood and most of the burned propellant, but hadn't even tried to give the sword a proper cleaning. That was fine; Dante would have probably fucked it up, and Nero hardly minded quality time with his weapon.
Whether it was the sounds Nero made as he broke apart the sword's mechanism, or the smell of the solvent and oil he used to clean it, Dante began to stir half an hour later. "Good morning," said Nero.
"Hmmph." Dante sighed. "What time is it?" He sounded only half-awake.
"A little after eight." Nero laid the gear assembly into Red Queen and flipped the levers that kept the gears in place. "I'll be done here in about ten minutes, if you want breakfast. If you don't, I'm leaving without you because I'm starving."
He had his back to the bed, but heard Dante shift around, moving to the edge, so it was no surprise when a hand ran over his shoulders. "Way better," said Dante. "Turn around."
Nero did, showing him the scratch on his cheek. "I think I'm presentable again."
Dante touched his chin to turn his head a bit farther, and said, "Yeah, I agree."
"I was thinking about some things, though," said Nero, as he returned to reassembling his sword. "What if there was a second demon, like you thought? It had to have watched that fight."
"Yeah."
"What could it have been?"
Dante got up and started to get dressed. "Who knows," he said tiredly. "Could be anything. A spawn. A slave. A pet. Or it could be completely unrelated. It might have been just passing through and noticed a couple of powerful devils trying to kill each other, and came to watch the show."
"Yeah, for some reason I don't buy that explanation."
"Neither do I," said Dante. He was silent a moment, pulling on his pants. "So, ah ... if you don't mind my asking ... how was it you got so cut up?"
The question behind that question was easy enough for Nero to hear. "I think you already know how." He smeared a bit of gear grease into the shift mechanism and turned the gears a few times to get it spread around.
"But you still killed it."
"Yeah," said Nero. "Turns out that blacking out in the middle of a dangerous fight isn't guaranteed to be fatal." He laughed a little, not because it was funny but because all of the other options were unacceptable.
Dante ran his fingers through Nero's hair, until Nero ducked to escape the touch. "I really wish you'd see someone about this."
"Sure," said Nero. "I can already imagine that conversation. Hi! I'm a demon, and I need help with my mental health." The reminder of how broken he was put an unstable emotion into the pit of his throat; he let a little anger into his words to conceal it. "They'd probably have me committed, if they didn't decide to kill me for the safety of the human race."
Dante sighed, and changed the subject. "Okay. Well. I need to call Lady. Is that okay?"
Was that okay? As if Nero could stop him! "What about?"
"Money. That hole in the wall isn't going to fix itself."
Nero glanced toward the open duffel. He didn't know how much cash they had, but no, it probably wouldn't be enough for repairs. Not with Dante doing all of the work lately. Damn. No other choice. "Okay," he said with ill grace.
The phone was on the dresser opposite the television, and Dante had to move some of the devil arms stacked there to reach it. He set Yamato on the floor, leaning against the corner formed by the wall and the dresser; Nero turned his head away, not wanting to even look at the weapon.
Dante dialed out. "Hey," he said. "It's me. I need a favor. No, a monetary favor. Hah. No, a devil completely trashed the office yesterday. Yeah, I know." A pause, and then he snorted. "No, it was Nero. It was interesting to come home to that."
Frowning at the mention of his name, Nero pulled the sword's ignition plug, checking that the firing tip was clean.
"We'll be out there in about two hours. Could you meet us? Yeah, sure. No problem. No. No, and I don't want you to, either." Dante turned to look at Nero. "It's not like he invited the fucking thing to break the wall down. Yeah, it broke through a wall. Yeah, I know. Look, let's talk about this later. We were about to go for breakfast. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Right. Bye."
"So ... what?" asked Nero after Dante hung up. "She thinks I should have been able to keep that demon from destroying the place?"
"No, she was kidding." Dante picked up his coat from the floor and shook it out. "It's just not funny in this case and I don't want her saying it to you."
He hesitated, then reached down and offered the tips of his fingers; Nero turned his head to kiss them, and Dante ran them over his cheek. "You look a lot better," said Dante, "but how are you feeling?"
Nero seated the casing back onto Red Queen and screwed it down. "Just hungry," he said.
"Get dressed. Let's get some breakfast."
Lady was already at Devil May Cry and looking at the wreckage when they got there. "Wow," she said, as Dante parked on the street in front of the building.
Dante got out and went to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, that's what I said when I saw it, too."
It was hard for Nero to look at them - standing so comfortably close to one another, Lady's body swollen with pregnancy - and not spontaneously combust. He made himself get out of the car but stayed near the fender, and tried not to let his fury show. "It was a big demon," he said, waving a hand toward the lumps of it that still lay in the street. The pieces were disintegrating, and many had been crushed like roadkill by passing cars, but there were a lot of them strewn across a long stretch of street.
Lady gave him a warm smile, but she addressed Dante. "I can't even guess how much this is going to cost," she said. "It looks like you have structural damage."
"Not the first time," said Dante.
"I've already called Rob," she said. "He's coming by tomorrow." Then her eyes darted back to Nero. "Have you talked to Nero there, about this?"
Dante turned to look Nero's way. "Talked to him about what?"
"It's his money, too."
"What do you mean?" asked Nero, but Dante thought a moment, and nodded.
The older hunter beckoned Nero closer, and when Nero joined them he said, "You deserve a say."
"In what?"
"Usually when this happens," said Lady, "I have his place fixed back up, and then he owes me twenty grand and he does all kinds of ridiculous shit to get the money to pay me back. We can do that again, but you're going to be paying me back, too, so you should be sure you're okay with it before we go forward."
"If you're not," said Dante, "we can figure something else out."
The sudden decision - and the fact that he was asked to make it at all - was a total surprise. Nero had no idea what to say. "Why are you asking me?"
"Because you're not an employee," said Lady. She shifted her weight, putting a hand on her lower back. "It's your money, too."
Nero had brought in zero income for months. Lady was the source of a lot of Dante's jobs these days, and should have known that. "I'm a moocher right now," he said. "It's not my call."
"That's temporary," said Dante, for the thousandth time.
"It's been temporary since February."
"What are you talking about?" asked Lady. Maybe she didn't know, although Nero had no idea how she could have failed to notice how little he did these days.
"Nero's being stupid," said Dante. "How about if you just find out how much it will cost and we'll decide later what we want to do?"
Lady was giving Nero a speculative look now, almost visibly thinking. Shit, she really hadn't known, but she did now. "Yeah," she said. "Call me Tuesday. I expect Rob will have an estimate by then. What's going on with you two?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," said Dante.
That wasn't a satisfactory brush-off, and the way Lady bit the side of her lip said she wasn't satisfied with it. She didn't press, though. "Tuesday," she said. "And I'll have Rob put up some tarps or something in case it rains."
"Thanks." Then Dante said, "You look great, by the way. How are you doing?"
"My back is killing me." Lady sounded more exasperated than anything, but the way she was standing, the odd way she held her weight and had a hand on her lower back, made Nero believe it. "And I was awake all night, because your devil child keeps kicking me in the kidneys."
Dante laughed. "That devil child was your idea. Too late to complain now." Then Lady let him lay a hand on her round belly to feel the baby move, and Nero had to literally turn around and walk away to keep from screaming.
Someone – the cops, Nero presumed – had left the gap in the wall crossed with yellow caution tape. He didn't go into the building, because it was probably unstable, but just glancing in from the outside didn't show anything obviously missing, or out of place beyond what that demon had done the day before. Behind him, Lady and Dante were laughing about something Nero hadn't caught, and he had to remind himself that Dante hadn't slept with her for months. They were friends, only friends. Friends who had created a baby together.
"Nero," Lady called, and Nero turned to see what the hell she wanted. "Dante says you lost your coat to this demon?"
Nero walked a few paces closer to them, but didn't want to share space with the two of them anymore. "I didn't lose it so much as it got cut to ribbons," he said.
"Let's get you another one," said Lady.
What the hell did that mean? Did Lady intend to take him shopping? Nero pulled down the right arm of his hoodie and stuck his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. "I can get one later," he said.
Dante shook his head. "No, we'll be broke later. Come on."
"Unless you don't want one," said Lady.
Of course Nero wanted one. He already missed the one that had been destroyed: the weight of it on his shoulders, the protective barrier it made between him and the air and between his body and other people's eyes. "I can get one later," he said again.
"Come on," said Lady. "Don't worry, I'll pay for it. You don't have to pay me back or anything."
Dante gave her a sharp look. "What?"
"He looks strange without a jacket on," Lady told him.
"You've never bought me a new coat!"
"That's because you're an asshole," said Lady. "Nero is a sweetheart."
What the hell. "What's the catch?" Nero asked.
"No catch, except that you need to ride in the back seat because my back hurts."
"You have never bought me clothes," said Dante.
"And I'm not now," said Lady.
"How many coats have I destroyed doing something for you?"
"If you were more careful, the number would be zero."
Well, shit. Nero didn't want Lady doing him any favors, but he did want a jacket and he took Dante at his word that they would be flat broke soon. This kind of sucked. He didn't want to be in Lady's debt, either literally or morally, but he didn't feel fully dressed with no coat and his other one was far too heavy to wear in the summer.
She did kind of owe him, though. Maybe he could take this as a partial repayment for the hell he'd gone through on that last job she'd passed him. "Fine," he said. "As long as you don't think I owe you anything for it."
Lady smiled and beckoned to him. "Dante can drive," she said. "There's a fantastic tailor down Walnut Street, he knows where it is."
Dante's jaw dropped. "You're going to get him a tailored coat?"
"Stop whining," Lady told him. "You're starting to sound like a puppy. Just get in the car."
The betrayed look on Dante's face almost made Nero laugh. He didn't want to laugh. He wanted to resent Lady for this unasked-for favor. "It's just a jacket," said Nero as he jumped over the side of the convertible to get into the back seat.
"Kid," said Dante, "you have no idea." He got into the car and started it, and then turned to look at Lady while she eased herself into the passenger seat. "This is some kind of pregnant woman thing, isn't it? This is because you're full of hormones and shit, and Nero looks adorable and he's setting off your inner mother."
"Sure," said Lady agreeably. "That must be it. That's the only possible explanation."
"If you're going to bicker," said Nero, "forget it. I'll get a jacket some other time."
"Nope," said Lady. "We're going now, and Dante is going to be quiet and stop griping."
Dante put the car in gear. "I'm not griping," he said, his tone turning petulant. "I'm just jealous."
"We'll get some lunch after Nero gets measured," said Lady. "Don't worry, I'll pay for that, too." She patted Dante's hand on the steering wheel.
Nero turned to sit sideways across the back seat. It was a nice day, clear sky, not too hot, and the wind as the car picked up speed felt good. He'd never had any clothes made for him before. Maybe this would be nice. Maybe he deserved it. Lady did kind of owe him.
He watched the skyline as the buildings passed, but saw no sign of any demons other than Dante and himself.