Title: For Serenity's Sake
Disclaimer: Me no own, You no sue
Warning: Violence, Yaoi, devilcest
Note: In the second drabble; the setting is the same place the mad scientist took Vergil's sword. None of these drabbles follow the same story line.
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I.
Nero never forgot those first few minutes before he met Dante. He had just stood to leave the church - that day, not even Kyrie's sweet words could get him to stay - when it happened.
Fear was the initial feeling that pulsed through his body, starting in his arms and rushing to his head and on down to his feet. Then there was anger, white hot and boiling. Lust, powerful and, sweet heavens, it was the purest agony. Chaos, because Nero knows this man without ever having met him before.
Nero would soon realize during his first fight with the beautiful half-devil, Dante, that there was something inside himself that yearned for him, something that loved him and hated him, something that wanted to both save him and destroy him.
II.
Holding his brother's sword broke his heart. Dante had long ago come to terms with Vergil's death, but the sudden acquaintance of Nero had brought down all Dante's defenses on the matter.
"Vergil," Dante whispers the name, tasting it on his tongue for the first time in a long time. "I'm sorry, Verg," he's not sure why he's apologizing to his brother's stupid sword, but it just feels like the right thing to do.
Dante, bring Nero my sword. And stop being so sentimental, it's unbecoming.
"Is it, now?"
There is no answer and the sudden quiet of the pit presses in on Dante, making his head feel heavier than what his neck can support as it all seems to never be enough.
"Okay, then," Dante turned on his heel and sprinted out of the large chamber.
III.
The night previous to meeting Dante, Nero dreamed – something that almost never happened.
Fire and blood, fighting and fucking in the rain under an obese white moon.
It was nothing more than flashes of memories. Who's though, Nero didn't know.
The scent of power and hatred and love gone awry and all kinds of other pretty words that, under logical circumstances, wouldn't smell like anything. But this was a dream, one not to be remembered.
When Nero woke, he had half a hard-on and tears streamed down his face and his right arm seared as if it were on fire.
He wouldn't remember this dream until months later, curled up on the overstuffed couch of Devil May Cry, watching Dante argue with Trish and Lady over the pizza money. He wouldn't be able to stop the hysterical giggling that would get the attention of the other three devil-hunters and eventually land him on the floor clutching his stomach in pain.
And after what seemed like an eternity, Nero would simply wipe the tears from his eyes and not even try to look Dante in the face as he settled back onto the couch.
IV.
"You're such a pervert," Lady's upper lip curled into disgust at Dante's lounging form. "He's a kid."
"And…?" Dante tried to keep the annoyance from his tone.
"And he loves that other chick, what's her name? Kyrie!"
"It's purely platonic."
"What makes you so sure?" Trish asked as she crossed her arms.
"A little birdie told me," Dante stood up slowly, stretching his arms above his head.
Trish and Lady shared a look. Then the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of the subject of the conversation.
Dante wriggled his eyebrows at the two women and slung an arm around Nero.
"How ya doin', kid?" he asked.
"Fine, old man," Nero grinned and playfully shoved Dante away from him.
Lady hissed under her breath and Trish could only bow her head and pinch the bridge of her nose.
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