Author's Notes: (Ramblings ensue after the story.)

Song: "Edge and Pearl" by Machinae Supremacy

Summary: Nero is nearing death after having sustained a life-threatening injury during battle. Dante, seeing that it's either now-or-never, decides to show the kid how he really feels about him, knowing that this decision will affect him for the rest of his life.

Warning(s): Language, Homosexual Pairing (Character Death for those that want a heads up)

Disclaimer: No, I do not own, in any shape or form, the characters, places, events, ideas, etc., portrayed in the games, anime, novels, manga, and other such things associated with Devil May Cry. Those all belong to Capcom and whoever else worked on aforementioned items, or their owners, at least.

"Edge and Pearl" is property of Machinae Supremacy; any lyrics I used belong to them.

Anything else is the product of my own imagination.

Dante gripped the rails of the hospital bed tightly, forcing his grasp to go lax at the last minute. He didn't need to find himself with crushed plastic in his hands. Just another thing for the staff to bitch about, he thought irately, scoffing. The man felt the kid's questioning gaze on him at the sound, but ignored it, Nero peering up at him tiredly from underneath heavily bruised eyelids. The red rings around his pupils were slowly losing their intensity, the older male noted, pursing his lips. It appeared that the teen's severely weakened devil trigger could no longer find any energy to ebb away. If it couldn't even overpower the blue of his eyes, there was certainly no hope for a transformation, for the ability to trigger and heal. Dante gritted his teeth.

"Giving up already, punk?"

Nero stirred and frowned at the gruff voice, opening his mouth to respond, but only managed to cough instead, spittle mixed with blood flecking his lips. The older man watched stone-faced as he struggled to lift a hand to wipe away the sticky mixture, but the task proved impossible. His human arm was tied down by the tubes surrounding it, and his devil bringer was lying across his stomach, long since useless. The youth opted instead to lick at his chapped lips, a sigh rattling dejectedly through his frame. The half-demon said nothing, but continued to seethe.

'He's fucking chained.'

The thought was bitter, icy eyes spanning the length of the hospital bed that Nero had been confined to for the past week. They followed the assortment of tubes that not only covered the kid's arm, but crisscrossed all over his body, sticking in and out of him from every which way, dripping in this and taking out that. Quiet beeping was heard in the background, machinery tracking his heartbeat and breathing patterns, ready to alert the staff if anything took a turn for the worse. Dante looked away.

'How the hell did it come to this?' he thought, his mind a mess, and getting worse the further he delved into it. The man was relieved to be pulled from inside his own head by the sound of Nero's voice, although he missed what the younger male had said. He cleared his throat. "What was that, kid?"

Nero's brow furrowed at the pet name, but the habit was so ingrained in the older devil slayer's mind that he let it slide. "Don't… leave," he mumbled in a raspy voice, eyes fluttering shut. "Just want to rest… for a bit." His breath was expelled in a sigh, and soon light snoring filled the room, marked by the odd wet cough here and there. Dante tentatively reached for the kid's hand, awkwardly patting it before pulling back his own.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Nero." He sighed. He had had no intention of leaving, but he humored the youth with a response anyway, even if the kid had fallen asleep before he could hear it.

Eyes falling back down unbidden to Nero's stomach, Dante stared hard at the thin garment covering the expanse, knowing very well the severity of the wound that it was hiding away. A snarl sounded throughout the room as the stench of blood invaded his nostrils, the predominant scent of bleach that permeated the building failing to cover it up. Blood had never been something to bother the male, but it was knowing who it belonged to that was making him sick at the moment. He quickly scanned the kid's body, but couldn't find anything to explain the suddenness of the smell. It did little to ease his worries.

Swallowing hard, Dante lifted the stiff devil bringer, wondering if the wound underneath had reopened. A fresh smear of blood that was being soaked up by the hospital's garb confirmed his fears.

"Shit."

Deciding against alerting a nurse, as he had been instructed to do, the half-devil gently set aside the demonic limb and inched up the hem of the blue fabric. When it was rolled up to the kid's chest, Dante let it go, gingerly inspecting the exposed flesh. He quickly found the source of blood. It wasn't the life-threatening wound that had reopened, much to his relief, but instead, a smaller, stitched-shut cut located above it. It was oozing blood, painting the surrounding black-and-blue skin a dark red. As Dante continued looking at the macabre sight, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to lick the crimson liquid off. He started at the feeling. "No," he growled, chiding himself. Going to the bathroom, he found small towels in the first drawer he tried. Snatching one up, he soaked it in warm water, wringing it so that it was not sopping wet before returning to the kid's side.

There was a hitch in Nero's breathing as he was cleaned, the gentle pressure he felt sending twinges of pain through his body not exactly intolerable, but it was still enough to rouse him from the slumber he had barely entered. Dante looked up at him apologetically, holding the blood-soaked cloth away from the wound before resuming. The ex-Order member looked to the side. Although he wasn't blushing, he still felt embarrassed at being exposed to the elder male in such a manner.

Catching the sentiment, Dante quickly finished up, accidentally eliciting a hiss from the former knight in the process. "Sorry," he muttered. He pulled down the hospital gown, throwing the soiled rag away. Azure eyes locked on to his icy own as he took his seat by the bed. There was no emotion in either pair, one male simply too exhausted to feel much, the other trying to hide his feelings. Nero looked away again.

"I'm going to die, Dante," he stated lowly, simply, having come to the realization quite some time ago. Anger flared up inside the older demon hunter at the words.

"Don't say that," he growled, his hands clenching into fists.

Nero laughed humorlessly, the sound quickly giving way to coughs. "Look at where we are," he wheezed, after the fit subsided. "You wouldn't have ever brought me here unless you were desperate. I'm right, aren't I?" He studied the half-demon, who stiffened at the question. The punk was correct in his assumption. Bringing him to the hospital had always been meant to be a last resort, and a shitty one at that. He shook his head, but accepted his defeat.

"So, what now? Are you saying that you are giving up?"

Exasperation flooded the youth's features at the question, but it was quickly overshadowed by something else. Determination. "No," he said sharply, wincing. "I want you to get me out of here."

The mad grin that broke out on Dante's face was all the response he needed.

"So, where do you want to go, kid?"

Nero grunted as he tried to balance himself on the devil hunter's shoulders.

"Your shop," he managed to get out, shutting his eyes and scrunching them up in pain as his wounds and cuts were agitated by Dante's jostling. He felt some of them stretching, opening, and liquid began to trickle down his stomach. The youth moaned, and the half-demon stopped.

"You alright?" The concern was evident in the older man's voice. Nero nodded briefly, before remembering that the male beneath him couldn't see the gesture.

"Just keep going, old man," he gasped out, tightening his slackening grip around the elder male. The man did as he was told, his mouth set in a tight line. He had felt something warm plopping onto his neck, sliding down, and a whiff of the air told him that it was indeed the part devil's blood.

"We're almost there," he muttered. He hastened his pace, but tried to keep the kid steady, in hopes of not causing him further discomfort. True to his word, Nero soon began recognizing streets, and eventually spotted the building that housed the infamous devil hunting business. He was laid down gently on his side on the leather couch once they got inside, Dante leaving him to shut the shop's doors.

The kid struggled to sit up, snarling as pain exploded in his abdomen. He felt hands coming to his aid, pulling him upright and leaning him against the back of the couch. Panting, the youth pushed away the hands that had helped him. He found the older male studying him, as if not quite sure what to make of the part devil before him. "What?" he snapped, making a face.

Dante felt the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. "You're almost acting like yourself again," he commented dryly. Nero frowned. His vision was blurring; he felt dizzy.

"Dante-"

The hunter tensed, knowing that the use of his name was not a good thing. A lump was quick to form in his throat. "Yeah?" he asked cautiously, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer to his query. A ragged breath was all that was heard before Nero continued.

"I want to fucking sleep." The former knight's eyelids fluttered, as if to validate his statement, before closing entirely.

"Don't."

The word was choked out, the man's shoulders slumping, his heart thudding loudly in his ears as he looked down helplessly at the pale teen. A hummed questioning noise filled the air.

"Just for a little bit," Nero whispered, trying to bargain. "Just for a short while."

"Don't close your eyes," Dante commanded hoarsely, his mouth drying. The kid clicked his tongue sluggishly at the demand, stirring slightly as he struggled to open them for the elder male's sake, but it was hard. Hand going to his stomach, the youth patted himself awkwardly as he forced himself to focus on the man's face, grimacing at how wet his fingers felt. The blue hospital gown he still wore had become a mess, blood splotches joining to create a grisly sight. Grinding his teeth together, he hated feeling how the warm liquid not caught by the cotton ran between his thighs and onto the couch below.

"Just don't want to give me up, do ya?" he rasped. He cleared his throat in hopes of avoiding another coughing fit, surprised when he felt the man's hand gripping at his chin, forcing him to look up blearily into the half-demon's eyes.

"No," the older demon hunter murmured, a frown on his lips. The ex-Order member watched on, confused, as the other male leaned closer, forcing him further back into the seat slowly. Dante took the opportunity to place his knees to either side of the kid's thighs, straddling the young male loosely as their foreheads touched, their lips brushing softly.

Despite his disorientation, Nero had to admit that he wasn't at all surprised when Dante kissed him. It wasn't that he had any reason to suspect that the elder liked him in that manner- in fact, the thought had never crossed his mind that the man could even like males- but it was just something instinctive at the back of his head, he supposed, that had made him aware of the sentiment on some level.

Grunting when he was pressed against just a little too hard, his mouth opened willingly, allowing the other man's tongue to enter. The teen felt the wet muscle exploring his mouth, sliding around his own as the older man continued to taste him, fingers caressing gently along his jawline. He didn't exactly return the kiss, as he didn't reciprocate the feeling, but he allowed it to continue nonetheless; he figured that he certainly didn't have anything to lose by permitting the older demon hunter to declare his feelings, and, if he had to admit it to himself, it did feel sort of nice. Dante was an adept kisser. The aforementioned man pulled back quite abruptly with a little wet pop, Nero feeling his bottom lip being tugged at by the half-devil's teeth before it was released, and both devil hunters parted, panting lightly.

No words were exchanged as the two males stared at each other, Dante moving forward again when satisfied that Nero wasn't rejecting his advances, the teen allowing him to deliver another longer, crushing, more desperate kiss. A sigh escaped the youth as the man's lips left his mouth, moving down his jaw to his throat, suckling and nicking at the flesh while fingers deftly pulled at the hospital gown, impatient to clear the junction between neck and shoulder. Once in view, the half-demon attached himself to the exposed skin, licking away hungrily, growling a little. The stubble on the man's chin tickled the former knight, gloved fingers coming up to entwine in his white hair. The kid held back a groan of pain as more of Dante's weight settled on him. He was too tired to question what the older male was doing, but he had a vague idea, Dante having explained the behavior of demons on occasion.

'He's marking me…'

Nero shuddered as teeth slowly sank into him at the realization, digging in deeply and keeping their grip on him before he was released, a tongue quickly taking their place. He felt the elder hunter laving at his neck, clearing the blood that was flowing from the messy wound.

"Mine."

The declaration was uttered in a shaky breath, the half-devil scattering a few more kisses before turning up to stare at the kid.

"Only for a night," the youth exhaled, exhausted. He was becoming overcome by guilt as the implication of the statement dawned on him. Dante would never be able to look for anyone else after having laid claim on him, for they were the kind of devils that mated for life. "What's going to happen… with you?" he gasped out.

"It doesn't matter," the elder man said gruffly. "You're the only one I care about," he continued softly, nuzzling against the crook of the kid's neck. "You're the only one I ever cared about, and you're the only one I'll ever care about," he breathed. The older demon hunter knew he had condemned himself to a life of pain and mourning, but it was worth it. He had at last been able to do what he had wanted to for the past six months, but he wished it had been under different circumstances. He knew the kid didn't return his feelings, and he was vaguely aware that he most likely never would have, but he appreciated the fact that he had allowed himself to be marked nonetheless. "Thank you," he whispered.

Sticky fingers grasped at Dante's chin. Getting the hint, he rose until he was leaning over the kid again. What he saw made his heart ache. The teen's eyes were half-lidded, his breathing was shallow and labored, and all the color had drained from his face. A tongue came out in an attempt to wet dry lips. "I… I love you, Dante."

A lie. But not entirely. There was some sincerity present in the declaration. The youth did appreciate the man for all that he had done for him, giving him a place to belong when he had felt alone and abandoned. He cared for him, thought of him in the highest regards, even with all of his annoying habits, and that's why he felt the need to- no, he wanted to leave the half-devil with what he hoped wouldn't be too horrible of a memory for his parting words. His vision darkened, and the last thing he saw was something wet sliding down the other's face. Dante shifted, moving to place his mouth next to the youth's ear. The hot breath tickled the younger male as he heard the words repeated back to him, sealing their bond.

"Just go back to sleep…" the remaining hunter breathed, wanting to pretend that he wasn't feeling Nero's chest rise and fall for the final time. Choking as more of the tears that he had tried so desperately to hold back began to roll down his face, a wretched wailing noise escaped him and grew in volume as he mourned for the loss of his mate. It ended in a snarl, warped by the demonic tones seeping into it as Dante transformed. The demonic male didn't fly into a rage, however. He just curled around the body of his partner, whining pitifully as he clutched at the dead male.

Just go back to sleep.

Author's Notes (continued): So, this one-shot is actually one of two versions (or shall be, soon enough, if I get around to it). When I started writing it, I sort of strayed from the plot I had laid out, until it became this. I never intended it to have boy love in it. So I'm hoping I'll be able to go back and write it the way I had originally planned. Though, that's only if I don't get lazy.

Anyways, I tried to make this a short story, so I ended up trimming stuff here and there (like demon's mating habits, for example), so I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense. I mean, I know why everything happens in it because it's in my head, so it makes sense to me, but if you don't understand something, please ask/tell me, so I can explain (or rewrite). It's just that if I kept writing in everything that I wanted, I'm pretty sure this would have turned into another serial, which I do not need at the moment. (Though, I'm pretty open to making it into one later on.)

Mmm, the only thing that bothers me about this story is the fact that Dante might be out of character. I really hope he's not. (Nero as well, I guess.)

Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this, and any and all reviews/comments/critiques are appreciated. (If you do review, can you tell me if you thought this was sad or something? I certainly did not think so, but I'm just wondering what feelings it evoked. It's more of a contemplative thing to me.)

Thank you for your time.

Hope you have a good day. c: