EDIT: Chapter 1 was edited July 17, 2012. Author's Notes and such remain intact, the story itself was just rearranged and rephrased so that it wouldn't have bulky paragraphs.

Author's Notes: Well, I'll try to keep this brief (hopefully). Anyways, this is my first fanfiction, to be honest, and yeah, I am pretty uneducated in the art of writing. So, I'm apologizing beforehand for shit mistakes like grammar, format, spelling, etc. Oh, and plot, or lack of thereof. This is un-beta'd (still trying to figure out the lingo of this site, by the way) because no way in hell am I ever letting anyone I know in real life read this, and I have yet to truly befriend someone online (and on here) that could edit my writing. So, moving onward, this is just totally random bullshit writing. I didn't plan ahead, just began typing. So, this story thus far is looking to be AU-ish? or maybe it's just OOC. Either or. It's basically DMC4 Dante and Nero, but I sincerely doubt I'm portraying their personalities accurately, especially Nero's, so yeah. Oh, wait, I said story. Wow. I don't know what is to become of this fanfic, if I do say so myself. Like I mentioned before, it's just mindless writing, and there are only two ways it can go from here. So, I might just leave this alone, which in that case I'm wondering why I'm going to post it/have posted it, or, I might try to salvage it, though that might mean that I might rewrite this chapter entirely, which again leaves my wondering why I am/have posted it, yadda yadda.

ANYWAYS-

I'll just say that this is M for Mature, 18+, etc, because I like to curse. A lot. It just happens. I really don't think it's a bad thing, but then again, that's just me. (I don't curse a lot in real life, which is amusing to me, but considering I'm writing about two badass people, it's going to happen. I can't fight it, haha.) Also, hmm. I don't write yaoi. It's not that I wouldn't want to, but seriously, I AM A FUCKING VIRGIN (something I shouldn't be typing in Caps Lock at a public library, haha). I don't know how that shit works. Even if I do read a lot of it. Or have been, ever since I joined this site. Which was quite recently. However, I do like Dante and Nero, pouts, you know, together. So... Hell, I already said I don't know where this is all going, but, so far, Dante hasn't buttfucked Nero, or vice versa. Dante only teases Nero about that kind of shit. If I continue this, maybe there will be an inkling of a relationship? So... M/M? Let's just say there's a slight possibility of a homosexual relationship, haha. (Seriously, lingo.) Basic warning summary: Swearing and male/male relationship, "Yaoi"? (possibly, if I continue with this fic).

Disclaimer: No, I do not own, in any way, the characters, places, events, etc, portrayed in the games, anime, novels, manga, and other such things. Those all belong to Capcom, and whoever else worked on aforementioned items. Or their owners, at least. I don't think I've remotely written anything original into this fic, such as OCs or other locations and shit, but if they eventually show up, or whatever, those will belong to me, and I'd appreciate it if they weren't to be reused, if anyone were to actually be interested enough in them to want to do such a thing.

I'm totally cutting this thing short, otherwise I'll just fucking go on griping.

(There will be more to read at the end, anyways, haha.)

Nero absentmindedly flicked clawed, glowing fingers at the rapidly healing wound on his forearm, the corners of his mouth twitching into a barely discernible smirk. A hiss of pleasure was driven past his lips as pins and needles ran the length of his arm to and fro. The mild tingling was driving him insane, the pain it yielded raw and stinging, but it felt so good.

The youth basked in the glorious sensation, relishing in the delightful ripple of pain, but it was over all too soon. Said sensation only lingered for a few seconds, the knitting of skin delayed by the momentary reopening of the wound, before the skin proceeded to seal itself shut.

Nero blinked at the unscathed pale limb he beheld, marred only by the dark demon blood congealing on it. Not even a thin mark of white was left in the wound's stead. The smirk disappeared to be replaced with a frown, and a tiny groan of disappointment was heard. The teen pulled down on the sleeve of his thin hoodie, the demonic blood scraping off of his arm and attaching itself to the red fabric, inevitably darkening it. He kicked out his right leg, connecting with nothing but air as the other joined it; he began swinging both legs unevenly over the side of the two story building below him. Placing both hands palm down behind him, he braced his arms as they made contact with the rough texture of the roof, and he leaned back into them.

Staring at what he could make out of the city's skyline against the setting sun, the male shivered. The dying glow of the star's light felt warm against his body, but the warmth was countered by a slow, yet relentless breeze that gathered him into its caress. He tugged at the thin hoodie, wrapping it closer to his body, but to no avail. A soft buzzing made him start, but it was just the agency's sign flickering to life. Magenta light blossomed in and overflowed from the letters in which it was supposed to be contained, proclaiming to the encroaching darkness that this was indeed the demon exterminating business known as Devil May Cry.

Without fully thinking his actions through, the teen found himself falling, having pushed himself off of the ledge he'd just been occupying. Legs buckled beneath him a moment later, and he rolled once to save face, instead of collapsing from the shock that ran up and through his body upon the point of impact. Springing up, he turned on his heel and strode up the few steps and double doors before him. Dante looked up as the doors slammed open, the towel draped haphazardly around his shoulders threatening to slide off as the pizza slice that was halfway to his mouth halted.

The kid strutted in, arms held out wide at shoulder level. They dropped to his sides as he took a step into the building, the doors shutting somewhat noisily as soon as he had cleared them. Nero grinned, taking in the sight of Dante before him, wearing nothing but tight, faded gray jeans that most likely used to be black before countless washes aged them.

"Damn, kid," the elder commented, momentarily startled, but then the pizza resumed its journey. He took a bite out of the hot slice, chewing slowly as Nero approached him. Swallowing, he jerked a thumb behind him in the general upstairs direction. "Shower's free now, unless you want to eat something first?" He waved at the pizza box, which lay open on the old wooden desk Dante so frequently napped at in lieu of his bedroom.

Nero paid no mind to what the man said, instead focusing his attention on the water droplets that were sliding down from silvery locks onto his face. The clear liquid followed the contours of Dante's jaw before sliding and plopping down to his chest, the drops that weren't absorbed by the towel trailing their way further along to the elder hunter's stomach, and, eventually, into his pants.

Dante raised a brow as he noticed what the teen's eyes were focused on. "What?" he teased. "Pizza's not good enough?" With the hand that was holding the piece of pie, Dante gestured at his body. "See something else you'd rather eat?" he insinuated, his trademark smirk making its way across his face. Nero licked his lips slowly and his grin returned.

"You're fucking sick, you know that, old man?" he quipped, his nostrils flaring slightly. His gaze instead went back to the pizza box, and then to the weapons beside it. Blue Rose sat next to Ebony and Ivory, the blue rose it was named after winking up at him as the final rays of sun hit it through the window, before the ball of light finally sank past the horizon. Quick as a cat, Nero sprang forward, snatching the revolver up, inspecting it, and ignoring the elder male to his left.

"You love it," the older hunter replied, knowing that the comment was lost on the ex-Order member. Sure enough, the other male didn't stir at the words. Not much seemed to penetrate the kid's mind when he acted like this, in the middle of a "high" as Dante liked to refer to it. The peculiar quirk that Nero exhibited, usually starting at the end of missions, made the teen giddy and impulsive, and entirely oblivious to the things he did not care to notice.

Dante had at times attempted to guess as to what caused the oddity, but he could never come up with anything conclusive. His first guess had been demonic bloodlust, but when he did not recollect himself ever experiencing what the younger male did, he'd pushed the thought aside. Nothing else that came to mind after had made much sense, either, and he'd eventually just given up and chalked it up to a huge adrenaline rush, letting the issue be. Nero would eventually wind down, anyways, settling back into his normal self, which was all that mattered. Besides, the kid was kind of cute in this state, in a punk ass way.

The elder demon slayer shrugged and grabbed the pizza box when Nero didn't bother grabbing the food, heading to the leather couch off to the side of the room. Nero didn't acknowledge the flickering of the television as the older man turned it on, nor the grunt that accompanied it as he tried adjusting the television for better reception. Two thuds accompanied by a complaint of groaning wood, however, did tell him that Dante had succeeded in his goal and was now absorbed in whatever program had entertained him, his legs spread out before him on the coffee table.

It was at this that the teen looked up from his gun, his dilated blue eyes searching for his beloved sword, the Red Queen. He didn't have to look far, though, as it was propped up beside a speaker, Rebellion accompanying it. His grin stretched wider, and he couldn't give a fuck if he looked like a maniac, he just knew that he had to have that bloody sword in his hands. Hastily holstering Blue Rose, he twirled to the side of the desk and came to an abrupt halt in front of the swords, left hand shooting out to grip the red handle. He itched to rev the sword, but the impulse abandoned him as quickly as it had come.

Feeling comforted at the heavy weight of the blade, the teen darted for the stairs, each footfall barely making a sound as he made his way around Dante. It seemed of the outmost importance that he sneak his weapons upstairs, though in all seriousness, the odds of doing that were slim to none. The leather couch the other male lounged on faced the fucking stairs. Undaunted by the task however, the kid started up the steps, keeping an eye glued on the elder, who not once bothered looking up from the television set in front of him.

Once at the top, Nero held back the urge to crow at his victory, and instead settled for a satisfied hiss. Downstairs, Dante rolled his eyes at the noise. The kid's actions had not escaped his peripheral vision, but he had decided to just keep quiet and keep his eyes focused on the screen, not feeling the need to call out to the kid. Whatever. It's not like he cared what the kid did with his stuff.

His attention returned to the screen in front of him, and he couldn't help but let out a chuckle as a zombie ambled across the screen, closing in on its human prey. Zombies were similar enough to demons, the elder hunter mused. He tapped the middle of his forehead with an index finger. Headshot. An image of Lady suddenly flooded his mind, and he scowled, deciding to change the channel.

Upstairs, Nero paced the storage-turned-guest-room that had been his for the past month or so, give or take a couple days. He exhaled a breath through clenched teeth, shaking slightly as his hands balled into fists. His head was throbbing and he couldn't help the low moan he gave, stopping him in his tracks.

Nero was coming down from his high. A snarl reverberated throughout the small room in retaliation, and the ex-Order member stalked to the closet in the corner, nearly yanking the door off of its hinges with the sheer force he opened it with.

A few hangers clattered to the floor as he tugged on clothing, his hands coming away with a nondescript navy tee and worn blue jeans, frayed across the knees. With a disgruntled noise, he slammed the door shut, turning next to an old bureau. From this he pulled out black boxers and tube socks, abandoning the socks on the bed.

With clothes in tow, the teen retreated from his room, approaching the bathroom next door. Clicking the lock in place, he leaned against the wood in the semi-dark, his devil bringer illuminating the small space. A sigh whistled through the male's nose and he began to strip, flicking the light switch on when his fingers encountered Blue Rose. Debating on going back to the room to set the revolver next to Red Queen on the nightstand, he opted instead for wrapping the customized weapon in his red hoodie, making sure that every inch was covered before carefully placing the bundled package on the sink's counter.

The rest of his clothes just slid off the wall and landed next to his boots, disregarded as Nero pulled back the shower curtain, letting it fall back in place once he had stepped into the tub. A groan of relief filled the room, the warm water that hit the teen between his shoulder blades very welcome indeed. He started to automatically scrub and wash at his body, not paying any mind to what he was doing, as he was still in the grips of the high that had overcome him earlier, despite its weakened state.

His thoughts sluggishly wandered to the memories of the mission Dante and he had completed hours earlier. A lazy smile curved his lips, pleased that he'd been allowed to keep a substantial amount of the pay the job offered this time. He usually gave it to Dante, under the guise of helping him clear his debt with Lady, an arrangement Nero had made with the woman. In reality it was in exchange for the fact that Dante was giving him a roof to sleep under, even though the older male had made it clear that he neither wanted nor expected any payment for their living arrangements.

A snort broke Nero from his thoughts, only to realize that he had been the one to emit the noise. He shivered, the once warm water now running clear and cold down his body, swirling lazily at the bottom of the tub before being sucked down the drain. How long had he been lost in his thoughts? He hastily grabbed at a shampoo bottle, not caring to differentiate between Dante's and his, pouring a liberal amount of the sweet smelling liquid into his palm before he massaged it into his hair. A knock on the door made him flinch, and he mentally cursed at himself.

"Hey kid, you alright in there?" Dante's voice was muffled by the wood. "Did you drown or something?"

Nero could hear the grin in the elder's voice as he asked his next question. "Need me to come in there and help you out?" The hot-headed youth could guess at which kind of "help" Dante was willing to offer, and it didn't include rescuing him from drowning in the shower like a turkey supposedly did in rain.

"Wouldn't you like that?" he grumbled in response. A low chuckle told him that Dante had heard.

"Maybe," came the insinuating reply. Nero scowled.

"What do you want?" he queried, running his fingers through the thick lather once more before tilting his head into the onslaught of cold water to rinse it off.

"To fuck you."

Nero sputtered at the bold statement, nearly gagging as shampoo entered his mouth. He quickly spat it out, the high he had been riding crashing down and finally abandoning him as he heard Dante roaring with laughter.

"You're a real treat, you know that?" Nero growled, once the bitter taste of shampoo had been cleansed from his mouth.

"Damn straight. I'm downright irresistible." Dante grinned, assuming correctly that the loud banging he now heard was Nero pounding his fist against the tiled wall. He waited until it died down before continuing, still grinning despite himself, knowing that the other was probably blushing madly. "Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that another pizza is on its way. I was hungry, and those slices I was saving for you were too tempting." He heard the water shutting off and remained at the door, waiting for a response or a sign of acknowledgement.

A few seconds later, the door opened slightly. Through the opening, Dante was faced with Nero, who was leaning against the frame, a hand above his head and a towel around his waist. A mock frown was gracing his face.

"And here I thought you were being serious when you said you wanted to fuck," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully as his fingers ran through a nonexistent beard. Dante quickly caught onto the bluff, but couldn't resist teasing the kid some more. He was practically begging for it, trying to play on Dante's turf.

"Babe, all you have to do is ask." With a suggestive wink, the elder male made as if to enter the bathroom, but Nero's eyes widened and Dante caught the hint of a blush before the door was abruptly slammed shut in his face. Dante laughed again. "You can't win," he gloated, chalking up another tally in the mental score he kept against the youngster. He was definitely slaughtering the kid.

"F-fucking pervert," Nero gasped, slowly dying as he slid down the door. Oh yeah, his cheeks were definitely burning, he could tell.

"Only words," was Dante's cheery response, before the sound of retreating footsteps told Nero that the older male was descending the stairs, presumably to resume watching the program that he had abandoned when he felt the need to tell Nero of their pizza dilemma. Slapping a hand lightly to his face, Nero groaned, picking himself up off the floor.

He dried himself off and pulled on his clothes, ridding the floor of his previously discarded garments. With Blue Rose still wrapped in the red hoodie in his curled right arm, brown boots carried in his left hand, he padded down the hall, turning to follow in Dante's footsteps down the steps. Once clearing them, he turned to look in the general living room area of the shop where Dante indeed was sprawled out on the couch. A leer was sent his way before Nero bolted into the kitchen to his right, ears reddening as he heard the other demon slayer snicker.

Arrogant asshole.

Nero made his way through the kitchen, his destination beyond the lone door at the other end of the room. His breathing became labored, his stomach endlessly clenching and unclenching as he approached the dreaded door. Managing to grasp the knob with his right hand, he pulled the door open with a leg; he descended another flight of stairs, albeit shorter than its brethren, into the building's basement.

With only the light of the kitchen funneling down into the room, along with his devil bringer guiding him, Nero hurriedly went about the business of putting his clothes to wash. He dragged a nearby laundry basket to the machine, sorting through his soiled clothing. He hated being in this room, and the fact that he had no real reason to feel the anxiety that continually grew in him the longer he stayed in it only served in helping to hate it even more. It had been like that since the first time he'd stepped foot in the room, and it didn't seem like the sensation was going away any time in the near future.

As soon as the familiar sloshing of water commenced, the youth grabbed the straps of his holster, along with Blue Rose, unconsciously slipping his finger against the trigger in his dash back up the stairs. The door was slammed shut behind him and he rested against it, panting slightly. Immediately, the sense of dread that had been building in his chest abandoned him, leaving him feeling a bit light-headed.

Dante looked up from the sink, setting aside the dish he'd just rinsed, some globs of ice cream still clinging to its sides. He ignored the teen's odd behavior, having brought it up before when the punk had come running up the steps the second time in the same amount of days, but the kid had just slapped aside his inquiries. He had let the matter go, assuming that Nero would come to him if his little "issue" actually became debilitating. He was, however, curious as to what made the kid nervous enough to sprint back into the kitchen each and every time. From what he had seen, the kid really wasn't the antsy type. Regardless, Dante made a note to replace the broken bulb in the basement, but sincerely doubted the younger male feared the dark.

His arm's a fucking nightlight, for cryin' out loud. Dante grunted, slightly amused. Before a grin could snake its way onto his face, however, the ice cream bowl he'd just released exploded. Water splashed everywhere as shards embedded themselves into the half demon's hand and a few jumped up to graze his cheeks. Eyes widening, they fixated on the teen still across the room from him, azure eyes mirroring the shock the elder hunter expressed. The hand holding up Blue Rose was shaking slightly, and Nero felt his mouth moving, but nothing came out. Seeing his inability to communicate, the elder man spoke first.

"Alright, kid, we've got to talk about this little fear of yours." Immediately, Nero snapped out of his temporary stupor, lowering his weapon as his devil bringer raked through his white locks nervously, his panting more obvious.

"What? No!" He shook his head profusely, but refused to make eye contact with the other male.

Dante pursed his lips, debating on pursuing the matter. He still wasn't really bothered enough to grill the kid about what was happening, even if said kid had now progressed from just displaying fear to displaying violent tendencies against imagined threats. He began picking at the glass in his hand, the itching skin needing to be cleared of all irritations before it would begin sealing.

"Wait."

Dante quirked a brow but did so, continuing to tend to his hand.

"What?" he said when Nero didn't say anything, realizing an answer was expected of him.

"You're not… You're not going to kick me out, are you?" At this, the devil hunter stopped picking out the bits of glass. The question had surprised him, truth be told, but now that he mulled it over, it clarified some things in his mind. Such as how despite remembering the teen as being a snarky punk, Nero had been unusually restrained when he had first moved in. His cocky nature hadn't begun emerging until a week had elapsed from his arrival, and even then he was still cautious around the older devil hunter. Now Dante realized that he'd been afraid he'd be asked to leave if he did something he considered drastic. Apparently shooting bowls was one of those things, or whatever. He snorted.

"Kid, you do weirder shit when you're under the influence of that little high of yours. Why the fuck would I kick you out over shooting shit dishware?" At this the teen visibly relaxed, but there was still some concern etched into his face. Dante continued.

"You've only been here a few weeks. Okay, hell, you've been here a month. You'd have been gone the first week if I didn't think I could tolerate you. Sure, we're still figuring out what's going to tick the other off, but I'd say you're pretty much in the clear already. So don't worry about stupid little things like this," he concluded, turning from the teen and going back to fishing out the remaining glass in his hand. He moved his head to the side, angling his hand to see if his hand had healed fully once clean of the glass, but met with the cold resistance of a barrel.

Dante bit back a groan once he caught sight of the dilated pupils and insane smile on the ex-Order member's features. Apparently his little pep talk had assured the teen so much that he was now confident enough to be holding up his revolver to the elder's head. He vaguely registered in the back of his mind that someone had managed to sneak up on him. But back to the issue on hand. He had forgotten that sometimes the high would spike back, even after the kid had settled down. See what I mean when I say you do crazier shit? He refrained from voicing the comment, though.

Aloud the elder male asked, "What do you think you're doing?" The devil hunter managed to catch sight of his hand to verify that it was back in its original state.

"Going hunting," the boy drawled, removing his weapon when he saw the other male wasn't fazed. At this, Dante grabbed the smaller by the shoulders, leading him roughly from the kitchen to the living room.

"Like hell you are," he replied, shoving down the thrashing teen onto the closest couch, repeating the motion when the he attempted to bolt up. "Listen kid," he said, grabbing Nero's chin to force him into to pay attention. "You haven't eaten yet, and I'm not letting you leave the damn shop until something is in that stomach of yours." Dante smirked as the kid's stomach growled in agreement, then continued. "After you have at least a couple of slices in you, you're free to do as you please." Blue eyes blinked twice at this statement, and the kid's crazy grin was back.

"Sure, sounds great to me," he purred. Dante rolled his eyes

"Punk bitch," he muttered, releasing his grip on the younger male. Two pairs of eyes sought the door when knocking emanated from it, and a voice called out.

"Hello? Pizza delivery for Dante!" Nero, who had slouched into the couch, leapt up at the announcement, taut as a wire. He sauntered to the door before the elder male could voice his protest. Flinging a door wide open, Nero delved into the pizza box, snatching two slices much to the surprise of the male holding onto the package. Before the delivery man had a chance to react, the white haired youth executed an about face, sandwiching the slices together and scarfing them down in front of Dante.

"Can I go now, old man?" he sneered, licking the fingers of his human hand. He wanted to leave, was dying to leave. The need to feel his sword singing in his hand and the recoil of his revolver as it slammed slug after slug into a demon's body was too great to ignore.

He could imagine it now. At the slap of his demonic palm and a pull of the trigger, Blue Rose would release a couple of magically charged rounds, thin streaks of light marking the path towards their target. Flesh would quiver from the impact of each bullet before Nero would follow with an upward swing of Red Queen, watching skin tear open, releasing a shower of blood. After halving the wretched creature, the magic would kick in and incinerate the remains, charring other demons if they were unfortunate enough to be close by to the beyond abused demon.

The teen almost started drooling at the image, focusing mainly on the blood. Its metallic tang hung thick in the air, and he could taste it as he licked his lips. Dante watched the kid lost in his little fantasy, noting how he had bitten his lip so hard that he had managed to break the skin, yet no pain registered in the boy's eyes. He briefly wondered again why Nero's odd quirk didn't bother him, but knowing that Nero didn't do anything extreme beyond slaying demons, he shrugged it off. Let the kid have his fun.

"Next time wait for the fucking pizza to be inside the shop before you start pawing your way into it," he retorted, but his answer was clear; Nero was free to go. Not that he had any real sway over the kid's decision to leave the shop whenever he pleased. Most of the time.

The deranged male nearly started glowing with pleasure, grabbing at Blue Rose as he passed the couch. The elder slayer walked in the opposite direction, to the door, taking the pizza and telling the delivery man to add it to his tab.

At the sound of the front door being shut, Nero was already up in the tiny bedroom, sheathing Red Queen on to his back, Blue Rose still in hand. He'd forgotten his boots and holster downstairs in his hurry to get the bloody sword. Shrugging nonchalantly, he slipped on the pair of socks he'd left on the bed and slid out of the room in his impatience. He approached the railing and flung himself over it, landing in front of the elder devil slayer in a crouch.

Surprisingly, Dante made no perverse remark upon seeing the boy below him, though maybe that was due to the mouthful of pizza that he was currently working his way through. Nero sat himself down on the spot, grabbing and tugging on his brown leather boots. Dante walked past him and a moment later the part demon felt something hit the back of his head. Considering it was light and stiff, the youth discerned that it was his holster, securing it around his thigh. Blue Rose was tucked away, and a sort of electricity ran through his body now that he was ready to leave.

Standing up, Nero readjusted the sword on his back. "Thanks," he said absentmindedly, waving vaguely in Dante's direction. He could feel the high falling, leaving him more in control of his actions now, instead of just impulsively doing shit, but he still felt the urge to hunt.

"Hmm?" Dante queried, swallowing the food in his mouth. He looked in the direction of the teen. "Well, would you look at that. The kid actually has manners. Aw, geez, you're welcome." He chuckled. "For whatever you're thanking me for," he added as an afterthought.

Nero wracked his brain. He would usually be annoyed at Dante's teasing tone, but the urge to bite back didn't present itself. He wondered if he could now differentiate between Dante wanting to piss him off, and Dante just being Dante. Though, was there really a difference? He cut the thought off, pupils dilating. Now wasn't the time to think. It was the time to act.

"Don't wait up for me," he called over his shoulder, smirking as he stepped into the night.

"You know me," the elder hunter frowned at nothing in particular, his words heard only by the closing doors.

So... What did you think? I would really appreciate any reviews, comments, etc, even if it's just to say that you read it. They'd be really helpful in helping me decide if I should continue this or not. Not to say that they'll be the sole reason if I do or don't, but they'll definitely be a factor.

This fic can go one of two ways: Nero doesn't come back, or he does. Depending on what happens, I'll be able to formulate a plot, musing.

Anyways, thank you for reading, and hopefully you don't feel like you just wasted whatever amount of time you spent reading this, cringes. Thanks again, and please, for the love of God, please review. Shot, haha.

PS: If there's anything necessary that I left out, such as in the disclaimer or warning, please alert me to it. I don't want to be like banned or sued, or something like that.