A/N: I noticed that there isn't a Nero/Kyrie C2, so I decided to make one. It's a canon pairing in DMC4, so I figured it needed some time in the world of this fandom.
I only have this little one-shot to post to contribute to the community, even though, it's quite silly. :) But it's meant to be.
Fandom: Devil May Cry 4
Title: Dork
Pairing/Characters: Kyrie/Nero
Rating: PG
Summary: They are going to have their moment of alone time.
!!!!
A silhouetted couple stands close underneath the alcove of dripping vines, darkened green by the night's mantle.
"Oh Nero." Kyrie moans against him, feeling wave after wave of pure pleasure. She never knew, well, she did. She has always known that Nero would kiss her.
Finally. After all those demons he had to destroy, and they kept coming. One after the other. And finally, he had come to whisk her away to a private little chateau, below the dip of the moon's crest to kiss her.
"Oh Nero," she moans again, against his lips, her arms are reaching for him, touching the nape where the fine, silver hairs are like spun silk to the touch.
"Kyrie," she hears him say, swooping her body into his arms, kissing her soundly.
They're held like that, feeling and tasting the delicious sweet nectar on their lips, their tongues. And at first, Kyrie was tentative, but Nero, demanding that he was, had stabbed into her mouth.
She mutters, touching her tongue back, understanding fully why he wants her to participate. Felt the way his strong arms were holding tight, almost possessively, then, for what seemed like an eternity, he is taking the time, slow and easy to unbutton her dress.
Kyrie squirms, moaning still under the assault of his lips, his hot tongue. And just when he pulls back, slow enough so that he's looking at her with partly closed eyes, he is still trying very desperately, to pull at her buttons.
"Nero?" She is feeling lethargic, unsteady on her feet but he's holding her up, holding her enough so that he's jerking a little; his blue-glowing arm is moving a little more violently than the rest of him.
"Nero?" She asks again, breathing hard, her lips inches away from his, "is there -something wrong?"
Then, she feels him pulling her so that she's up against the wall, still underneath the alcove of dripping vines, twined around the open wooden rooftop.
She hears him, the way his breath is quick, and the noisy, almost too frighteningly pierce curse next to her ears.
"Damn it all!"
"Nero?" her eyes are wide now, afraid that she has done something very very wrong. She feels him pulling, tugging, jerking about and the dress she is wearing doesn't move. Her body is being pulled along with the yank and drag.
"DAMN IT!" he curses again.
"NERO!? Kyrie is wide-eyed, her mouth open, still breathing hard from his kisses.
"You know what? I give up." Nero pulls away, shakes his head, sighing deep.
He turns away with head down, "I can't do it, Kyrie."
"What?! What have I done?"
She is in a state of panic now, "Nero? Is it my breath? Do I smell?" She is hesitant to lift her arms up, and has even made sure she has sprayed perfume on herself before the evening was out.
"I can't do it." He shakes his head, "I can kill demons, I can face Sparda's son, and make it out alive, but,"
"What?"
"Your dorky gown has a mind of its own, Kyrie! It's worse than a chastity belt!!"
She gasps. The back of her hand is pressed against her wet open mouth.
"Ohhhhh, I forgot to tell you. My brother made this dress for me." She bites her lip, and laughs shakily.
"Figures. I'll see ya around." He waves to her while he's sluggishly parting ways.
Kyrie tries to grip the chest part of her gown, but fails to hold on to anything.
She watches, in sorrow; in agonizing defeat, the white-haired, blue armed boy walking silently away from true love.