A/N this idea fic was written about last summer but i threw it away... .
This was my first attempt for a Nevan/Dante.
I'm not happy with it, but I tried: written for Laryna.
-XXXSXXX-
Dante had to admit: She is the best goddamn guitar he ever owned: Nevan.
When she walked into a room, she had to have drama. The lights, the set up, all the elaborate displays: these were things that came with the territory. She had waltzed right on in: adorned with translucent white skin, puckered plum red lips looking like it's been injected by state of the art collagen. Just looking at her lips gave the impression that they were alarmingly alive – filling all the hot fiery skin with pulsating voracity. The succubus had fangs, surprisingly white - ivory sharp; the observer would take pause just to see the intense constrast.
Her tongue whipped out, slick and wet: pink and swollen flesh glazing along white sharp fangs; her demon's saliva wetting a line of fire. She was a proud bearing born demon, lust and coveting were her shining glory.
With hair flowing bright like the color of warm vintage wine, she opened her mouth, showing off her juicy lips, licking out to taste the cherry fruit. The Devil's pawn had skin so pale you could see through her: lines of thin veiled veins contrasted against that white lily flesh. It was not that appearance in itself that sent a young man so green with the knowledge of sex quivering with unsuppressed desire. She epitomized the word in every degree. It was more or less the fact that she could with easy maneuvering skills - catch her victim unaware and suck him up till all skin turned to ash. No mortal man could even pass through the gates that Cerberus guarded.
But he was part mortal.
He wasn't even sure himself.
And she demanded only the best victuals. Hips so curvy it was a shame that no human could withstand long enough to hold on to them.
It was not that she was dangerous to look at, but the fact that her little pets could take bites off flesh like tiny piranhas was frightening enough. What's worse is that they all adored her that they clung to her as life itself.
The Devil's son took her in, decided vainly that he'd use her, to his advantage. After all, he owned her. And the music wasn't half bad either.
It happened awhile back, and it seemed like ages: a time when the world stopped for a glimpse at the tower called Temin-nu-gru; and he'd acquire so many good things on that mission. She was the sexiest thing he'd come across. A bit too old for him, but hey, he found that life with older and wiser women were the best in the best way possible. Dante had played on her strings after defeating her in a fair play. He'd never forget that evening, walking into her chamber; the lights were dim, the candles flared and the unmistakable smell of sex hung in the air; he confidently stood in the middle of her lair, finding himself quite enamored at her exaggerated parlour. Not that he had fair warning. Devils like him, half or full, knew the stakes and when he had retrieved that nasty ambrosia, he had to make his way past creepy crawling six feet tall spiders. It was a good thing he had no fear for such creatures.
That was when the sound, in her organ filled chamber started filling up with a woman's lusty laughter. The vision that came in front of him made him pause.
As he had watched the demon materialize, Dante recalled back briefly what had transpired...he started raising the bottle to up his swollen lips, and stared at the liquid swoshing around. In one swallow, he sloshed it all down his throat and let out a burp. Unelegant he was, not like his damned brother, but he didn't really give a flying fuck.
So he sat back, his elbow leaning against the bar, and realized he did have a fear; however, it wasn't as if his enemies didn't know it. They're a clever lot: the upper demons; yet, he always made sure he was one step ahead.
The half breed had finished off a fight with his identical twin brother, round one, it seemed and they were always like this. Since childhood. Hell, he thought with a snort, taking another gulp of alcohol - they were, he admitted: rivals till the end. When will they ever stop fighting? Never. It was something that exasperated his sweet mother, Eva, to no end when she still alive. They tried so hard to please their mother, but in the end, neither could even save her.
He remembered his brothers words, they haunted him...
"I see the devil inside you has awakened as well…" Vergil had silkily said to him.
During their first battle, their blood mingled with the sword, rivulets staining the massive blade.Their eyes clashed, flashing a myriad of intense anger that Arkham had to step back from the heat of it.
The human turned demon had told Vergil that there wasn't time for that. So why did Vergil pause and even cared what the old fool was about? Dante knew afterward….it was enough that he had awakened to tap his powers. He couldn't it before.
Damn that Vergil. Always shoving crap on him when he least expected it. Good show, bro, this rounds yours….for now.
He wished for a goddamn drink and knew exactly where to find it.
Carrying the purple guitar behind his back was weighty enough and it had poked him a few times while he had finished off a few ten foot demons along the way.
Nevan was very useful as that the natural born demon allowed him to fly at length in which he wasn't able to do earlier. Nevan had taught him a lot. More than she could possibly know. There was something to be said about his wings. They flicked out, grey and red, the designs weren't all that bad, but he didn't like what he saw when he passed by a puddle of water or the reflection off a passing window.
It reminded him too much of his father. He remembered what he told Arkham: Like staring at a backed up toilet.
It was something he had to get used to. And like it he did, after tapping into his devil self, it was the most exhilarating feeling. He felt…..powerful.
When he had time to relax and get something to eat, he'd stop in at the bar by her place. Propping himself on one of the stools with careless ease, he leaned back with a lazy air.
Reaching over to grab a full dusty bottle, Dante flicked back the silky ribbony strands of silver hair away from his face.
The broken bottles were once again magically returned to their former untouched contents. And this time he took them between his fingers without the need to destroy everything in sight and drank greedily.
He eyed the quivering guitar by his side. The strings vibrated and Dante smirked, "I suppose you could go back to your former self for a little while….but…." he added with narrowed eyes.
"None of that funny crap."
That was when he allowed her to materialize before him in all her alarming splendor, allowing her flaming hair to flip up, generously shoving at him an eyeful of her bountiful breasts.
"Show off." He snorted, but couldn't tear his eyes away.
Still, he had to be careful.
Her bats flew out and covered her most private parts, but not without seeing the red curls between the apex of her sex. Dante coughed, swallowed a bit of the cool liquid that went down his throat. Logic could fly out the door right now and he had to bite a curse to focus on what she was made for.
When she spoke, it was melodious, soothing, and sultry, like a hot summer night between satin sheets and humidity so thick a mortal could barely breathe.
"Lonely?"
She waltzed around him, oblivious of her nudity, and oh so acute of his eyes straying at her private areas, noting the way her curves begged to be touched and held. He watched her warily, but confident to know that he could overtake her anytime. Besides, she is under his wing, so to speak. Demons normally didn't have honor, but in the code of his strength and power, they had to willingly surrender their souls.
A worthy challenger as once Cerberus said to him. Lifting up the bottle to his lips, he lowered his lids as she approached him, the scent of her hair smacked of heady wine, sex and sweet sweat. When she allowed her leg to touch his, the electricity crackled loudly, jolting him from his reverie.
"I know you're up to no good, Nevan, and if you think this is your way of seducing me….?"
Her hair tickled him and her full large breasts pushed against his leather, her nipples springing up from the cold metal of his belt loops. She made no reply as she laughed her usual laugh, the sultry tones made his skin prickle, and his insides shiver. It was no wonder his breathing narrowed and he was so sure that his pulse had quickened. The throbbing in his ears pounded, and he had to keep himself in check from the way she straddled him on that bar stool.
The half breed made no move to push her advances, nor did he reach up to pull her close.
He chuckled, adams apple bopping up and down from the swallow, "Coming on a bit strong aren't you?"
But he leaned back against the bar, his arms spread out now as his hand held the now dangling half empty bottle, swirling the liquid inside. The clear amber contents gave off the scent of pure whisky, which was making Dante feel very good.
He watched as her lily white hands with those damask colored fingernails delicately gliding along his bare skin.
As she inched her way towards his lips, her breath of burnt electricity, sweetened wine, and heady ambrosia nearly knocked him out. He tensed considerably as she continued her ministrations, the pale long feminine hands sliding inside his red jacket.
Finally whispering in a deep husky voice. "My my, you're indeed just as handsome as your father was."
She breathed in deeply, hoping to cup up the wonderful masculine scent her prey owned, then boldy leaned in to capture a kiss from him.
Dante braced himself and right before she touched her lips to his, he grabbed hold of her arms, the long red strands in full waves moved like an ocean of sparkling sanguines.
"No." He breathed.
She laughed, a vivacious tinkling laughter that echoed the entire bar, causing the glasses on the shelves to vibrate.
"I don't take no for an answer. You know that, Dante."
"Uh uh, no way. Remember the last time you tried this? You nearly killed me."
"We were in a battle remember? That's all past now. I want something from you and you know exactly what it is."
A bold look. The inflamed shapely lips pulled back to reveal her fangs. She hissed and light violet smoke came from her mouth. He wasn't afraid of what she'd do, but rather afraid of what he would do and instead, he continued to raise the bottle to his lips and gulped the remaining contents.
The amber liquid burning his lungs for a moment, his eyes half closed and Nevan pounced. She wanted to take those lips and kiss them for all they were worth while the flavour of the sweetest alcohol left a delicious stain.
Dante gave in, willingly, he had to…..all those memories of his lost brother, his mother long ago, and the human girl who was too pure to touch. Lady. He missed her. He missed his family. Ah hell. He had to drive away all the pain and the sea of sorrow by giving in just this once to a born demon from hell.
Their lips locked and she thrusted her eager tongue inside, and it was a battle for sucking, inhaling, kissing like its never been done before. She pushed her naked breasts against his bare chest, allowing her nipples to scrape along the small fine hairs he had, tickling her, making her mad with desire.
She was on fire, more than she'd ever been. This was what she wanted, from the first time she had set eyes upon his father. His father, Sparda, was the devil that got away.
His son would be easier prey.