A/N: Being sick must be good for my muse.
Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters are the property of Capcom.
Dedications: To Blood of Dusk (RabidChimera on dA) for loving me so much just for writing something.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a terrible drunk, kid?"
Dante watched with a mixed expression of amusement and slight disgust as Nero leaned towards him aggressively from the other side of his desk. The two were celebrating a rather profitable day; plus Dante just wanted an excuse to get Nero drunk and see what happened. He probably should have left well enough alone now that he got to witness the end result. Thankfully it was late at night, the shop's doors were locked and most of the lights were dimmed so no one would accidentally stumble upon this sad sight; Dante even unplugged the phone to be sure there were no interruptions.
"Shhhuddap, ol' man," Nero slurred, hanging his head off his neck; pale hair obscured most of his face. He'd shed his jacket and sweater at some point, leaving him in just his boots, jeans and navy undershirt. His devil arm was completely exposed but given the circumstances, Dante was sure Nero didn't give a shit that it was in plain sight and sparking erratic shades of blue. His hunched shoulders jerked as he let out a distinct 'hic'.
Leaning back in his chair, Dante shook his head, taking a swallow out of the can of beer cradled in his palm. There had to be at least fifteen empties scattered across the desk and littering the floor already and to put it simply, majority of those had been consumed by the young hunter sitting on a rickety stool across from him.
Nero made a small 'hurp' sound before he pushed himself upright on the stool, swaying and nearly falling off. Dante resisted the urge to reach out and steady him. The last time he tried he got slapped. Nero's face was flushed, eyes half-lidded and hazy from the alcohol clouding up his system. The kid was a feather-weight when it came to drinking, so downing nearly an entire case of beer on his own pushed him way beyond his limits.
"Y'know," Nero began, pointing a talon-tipped finger in Dante's direction. His left hand went down to grip the edge of the stool to ensure his drunken weaving didn't result in a fall. The accusatory devil bringer gripped the nearly empty can tightly enough that it dented and what remained inside bubbled out of holes the sharp claws pricked into the thin aluminum. "Y'suck at yer job,"
"I do, huh?" Dante internally cursed at himself for replying. Despite how wrong the whole night turned out to be, he was interested to find out what Nero planned to criticize him about this time. He did it plenty when he was sober.
"Yeah!" He snapped and slapped the beer down onto the desk, leaving it there to slowly leak across the wooden surface. Eh, it could be cleaned later. "Y'sleep all day-hic- and y…yer lazy and-" he paused to cover his mouth briefly. After a few audible swallows he let it drop back down onto the desk. "Y'suck."
Dante couldn't help the amused smirk that spread across his face at those heartfelt, ineloquent words. "You're right."
"Damn right m'right! ….what?" Nero paused and stared at him in mild shock, nothing but a soft 'hic' interrupting the sudden silence.
"I said you're right, kid. I do suck," He repeated, sipping at his beer once more before setting it aside, ignoring how three of the empty cans tumbled with a hollow clang to the floor as he pushed them away to make room. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I sucked just this morning, remember?"
Nero's face grew even redder as he sputtered for a reply and then dropped his upper half down onto the desk. For a second Dante thought he might've passed out until the younger man's back began to shake. Finally throwing up? No…he was laughing.
Lifting his head up slightly, Nero's almost childish giggling became more audible and it didn't seem like he could manage to stop enough to take a full breath, causing his face to tint slightly purple.
"Alright, that's it; you're cut off, mister." Dante reached around to the floor next to the desk and dragged the box containing the two remaining beers out of Nero's immediate reach.
"I hate you," Nero said, voice full of mirth. Once he contained himself enough to realize what Dante meant he gasped. "Nooo! No I need that!" he whined and climbed up onto the desk as it was the most immediate route to where Dante had hidden the beer.
Cans scattered off the desk and rolled across the floor to join their companions; others weren't so lucky and became crunched under Nero's knees and hands as he drunkenly clamored over the short expanse of wood that previously separated the two hunters.
"Nero!" Dante just barely caught the kid as one of his hands hit air and he pitched forward, crashing into Dante and knocking both of them and the chair down to the floor.
They landed in an uncomfortable tangle of limbs. Dante grunted as he sprawled on his back, one leg caught in the armrest of his chair that lay on its side by his feet; Nero had collapsed over his chest, the dead weight compressing his lungs and restricting his ability to breathe. He gripped the navy dyed cotton on the back of Nero's shirt, intending to heave him up when he felt the other body beginning to tremble against him.
"Hey, this isn't funny-"
He broke off as Nero managed to get his hands under him; palms planted on the floor as he unsteadily pushed himself up. The kid wasn't laughing, Dante realized as he stared up at the face hovering above his own, feeling warm, damp drops beginning to tap against his face. Gone was all the inebriation induced laughter. The look on Nero's face was agonized; tears welled up and overflowed his eyes that were now such a dark blue they appeared black, leaving glistening streaks over his cheeks in their wake.
"Kid-"
"I'm a terrible person." Nero announced abruptly, his voice thick as he sat back on Dante's stomach. He brought up his human hand and rubbed the back of it roughly over his eyes, only succeeding in smearing the salty liquid over his nose. "I, turned m'back on everyone an' ran away," he mumbled, the words interspersed with hitching, shaky breaths. "I bet they were glad t' get rid a' me, but-" he hiccupped again and resumed trying to mop up his tears. This time he balanced all his weight on Dante's stomach and sat up on his knees as he used both hands to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up to his face, exposing the pale, muscled expanse of his stomach.
Great, Dante thought as he stared up at Nero in exasperation. Not only was Nero an obnoxious, noisy drunk, he was also weepy.
"An' after everything y-you did for me," he continued, mumbling into his now wet shirt. "I jus', act like yer an asshole-but you are!"
"Ah, jeez," Dante sighed and sat up slightly, grabbing at Nero's shirt to pull it away from his face. By now the kid's eyes were swollen and red, the moisture from the tears and a now leaking nose spread over his cheeks where the shirt failed to soak it all up. It seemed fitting that he not only was acting like a child but now looked like one as well.
He shook his head and rubbed Nero's face with his sleeve. The younger hunter closed his eyes and endured it, mumbling something intelligible. When he took his arm back, Nero's face was relatively clean but now his flushed face had a shine to it from the dried tears.
"First of all," Dante began after they stared at each other for a minute. "Who cares if you ditched Fortuna? That place was a dead end anyway. There aren't even devils hanging around there anymore, so it's not like people are dying without you there to protect them. And second, I know you're grateful that I've been helping you out, so don't feel guilty that I get on your nerves. I get on everyone's nerves. That's why people love me."
Nero stared down at him with a stark expression before the faded color in his cheeks bloomed bright red once more. "Even me?"
Dante raised a brow as he interpreted the question before grinning. "Yep, even you love me."
"Right," Nero agreed faintly, eyes turning away in a shy gesture.
Unable to resist, Dante smoothed a palm up over Nero's abdomen that had remained exposed slightly with his shirt rumpled. He felt the younger man shiver under the touch and lean into his hand as it slipped higher under his clothing and settled over a heart he could feel pounding heavily through Nero's chest.
Nero found his lips parting to take in more air as his pulse quickened. He glanced back towards Dante's intent stare and found himself leaning forward and planting his hands on the floor again. His head lowered and his eyes were already closing when Dante leaned up to meet his descending lips. They both tasted like beer, but the bitter flavor didn't steal away the sweetness of the contact. It began slow and languid, a comforting push and pull of tongues in and out of the other's mouth. Eventually Nero pulled his head back to gain a full breath and allowed the devil hunter to drag him down until their chests met. The hug proved just as comforting as the elder's words had been and Nero found his ragged emotions settling, the knot in his gut releasing.
Dante took liberties as Nero rested against him; he would be a fool not to. It wasn't often that Nero allowed open groping without some kind of protest. Instead of arguing and pushing the offending hands away, the kid was nuzzling into him more and suddenly his idea of getting Nero drunk didn't seem so bad after all.
"Nero," he whispered after a moment. "Sit up so I can strip you."
When he got no reply, Dante frowned and nudged at Nero, who didn't move or respond beyond a soft snore. The half-devil's eyes widened in realization and he let his head thump back against the hardwood floor. Nero had finally passed out.
"Are you kidding me? You're a horrible drunk, kid." Dante groused.