Disclaimer :- Devil May Cry and all it's characters are the property of Capcom and are being used here in compliance with the terms found at /faq
Content :- Contains nudity, shonen-ai/slash and spoilers for the end of Mission 11.
Something on His Mind
"That wasn't your first time with a man now was it, kid?" Dante lay on his front, propped up on his elbows with a thin blanket covering his lower body. Giving the young man a cocky grin he watched Nero pull himself up into a sitting position and reach for the blanket to cover his dignity.
There were no lights in the room, the only bulb having burnt out years before, not that Dante ever thought to change it. His bedroom above the shop was simply a place for him to crash at night or after returning from battle. It wasn't exactly a homely place.
"Back to 'kid' again is it?" Nero sounded exasperated but not overly so. He knew Dante only called him that to tease him, just as he called him 'old man'. Nero knew his boyish face and brattish attire made him easy to underestimate, a fact that he had often taken advantage of in battle even though it pissed him off to be talked down to; as Dante had learned at the point of a sword. He glanced towards the window which was open on the bustling city night. A slight breeze gusted in, stirring his hair and making him thankful for the blanket. "No, it wasn't," he finally answered thinking he'd delayed answering as long as was fair, "and don't tell me that you, of all people, you are going to judge me for that."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Dante said through a yawn as he rolled over onto his back, arms folded behind his head. Comfortable, he closed his eyes enjoying the cool breeze as it ghosted over his flushed skin.
Nero however was far from comfortable with the silence which followed, as he watched Dante settling down to sleep. Dante hadn't questioned him any further on his past experiences yet a need to explain himself was welling up inside his chest.
Hitching his legs up, he curled forwards and hugged them to his chest before turning back to window. Tired moonlight struggled its way through the cloud cover to colour the room a faint shade of blue. Absently he noticed that his arms were the closest they'd been to a matching hue in a long time. The sounds of the city seemed louder now that the only sound is the room was the breathing of the two men. A distant thumping music could be heard from a car in the street as well as the sound of drunks enjoying themselves in the city's seedier district. Another gust of night air filled the room causing Nero to shiver and goosebumps to cover his skin. As he clutched his demonic arm to his chest as proof against the cold, the scales radiating a warmth of which he was more than a little glad, he started at a hand on his shoulder.
Without opening his eyes Dante had reached out and was now dragging Nero down against his chest.
"If you're cold don't just sit there shivering, kid. Close to window or get under the blanket." His voice was low and he ruffled Nero's hair and sighed, clearly intending to give sleep another chance to win.
Glad that the night hid his faint blush, Nero had to admit that he was much warmer here against Dante's chest and snuggling down getting comfortable. He closed his eyes but his mind was racing too much to let sleep get a toehold. He resolved to stare of into the darkened corners of the crude room, allowing his head to rise and fall with the steady rhythm of Dante's breathing.
"It was when I was in the Order." Nero blurted out suddenly, unable to resist the urge to share.
Startled out of his state of near sleep by Nero's voice, which had sounded overly loud in the stillness, Dante gave up on his habit of simply rolling over and going to sleep, looking down as he squeezed Nero's shoulder. The young man wasn't looking at anything Dante could see, but seemed to searching inwards.
"I suppose it's to be expected, that many guys all bunking down together and training together day in day out. Not exactly the kind of thing the priests approved of though." Nero's mouth twisted in a sardonic smile and he pressed his cheek a little closer to the hard chest beneath it.
"It wasn't Credo was it?" Dante asked, voice betraying his exhaustion as he fought the urge to yawn.
Stifling a chuckle Nero shook his head.
"No chance. He wasn't into that kind of thing." This wasn't the first time they'd talked of Credo. Dante had already relayed the detail's knight's death, leaving out that he'd fallen with Nero's name on his lips. It had been hard enough for him to hear of his friend's suffering without inflicting that level of detail on him.
"He was our Captain, our commander, and rather a proud son-of-a-bitch. 'Fraternizing with the men' like that would have been 'inappropriate behaviour.' He looked out for us though; knew everything that went on with his men and turned a blind eye. If he'd wanted he could have handed our sorry asses over to the priests and secured a promotion. We'd all heard about knights being dragged before his Holiness for transgression. Guess we know what happened to them now. Damned ghouls!" He though about Agnus calling him his next subject of experimentation, made a fist with his right, clawed hand and bit his lip, glaring as if ready to punch something. He held his anger in check though, and draped his left arm across Dante's stomach.
"But Credo never breathed a word and did what he could to stop the rumours about me. Fat lot of good that did."
Dante enjoyed listening to Nero talk now and as he did so he reached up to catch his fingers in Nero's hair. It was dry and rough like his own, a victim of the hard life of a demon slayer with more important things to worry about than showering. Dante held his tongue, not wanting to interrupt whatever events Nero might be revisiting. Instead he started twisting the hair into coils only to watch it spring back into an unkempt mass.
Nero was too distracted to pay attention to this. It was rare for him to open up like this and Dante suspected that avoiding eye contact was helping him speak his mind.
"He should have known he didn't have a chance, taking that bastard head on." Nero muttered, remembering Credo's angelic demon form cut down so easily by Sanctus.
Dante had only encountered the Captain of the Holy Knight on two occasions and although he didn't know him, he had some respect for him. After all, the man had confided his last request to Dante before dying in his arms. The impression he had formed of Credo was that he was a man of honour with strict adherence to rules. A fair fighter but a little naïve, blind to the fact that demons weren't the only ones capable of evil.
"He was a good man and a good knight, even if he was an idiot." There was a note of pain in Nero's voice and he swallowed hard still staring off into his past. It was easy to forget that Nero had faced almost as much death and suffering as Dante had by the young man's age. They'd both grown up too fast, that was what happened when you risked your life to prevent the suffering of innocents. Innocents like Credo and like Kyrie.
The thought of her name was a lead weight in Nero's stomach as he lay there, his clawed hand absent-mindedly running up and down Dante's side.
"You probably already know this, but Credo was Kyrie's brother."
"I kinda figured it might be something like that." Dante fought to keep a note of amusement from his voice as in his mind things slotted into place. Suddenly Nero's chaste relationship with the young lady seemed far less contradictory to his tumbles in the barracks.
Looking up sharply at Dante's words, Nero's eyes showed how little patience he had with such flippancy. They locked eyes as Nero bristled and lifted his head to glare all the better.
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean old man?"
Holding up both hands in a gesture for Nero to calm down, Dante's smile was almost paternal as Nero scrambled off of his chest to sit up. His back to the headboard Nero had kept his glare locked on Dante as a warning that his explanation had better be a good one.
Rolling onto his side and leaning up on one elbow, chin in hand, Dante looked up at Nero with an expression of concerned affection.
"You sure you want me to explain kid? I don't want to be one to tell you what your feelings are."
Nero was livid with rage. It wouldn't have surprised Dante if Nero's new found Devil Trigger had overtaken him right then and there.
"If your about to say that I don't love Kyrie," he screamed "you'd better have your coffin picked out old man!" His fist was raised and his muscles bunched in readiness for a fight but his eyes seemed close to tears and he shook ever so slightly in a manner not caused by adrenaline. Dante couldn't help envying Nero that he could cry so freely; that it didn't take some ultimate, nay unbearable pain to force out a mere one or two.
"I wouldn't dream of it kid, but will you cool off before I have to hand you your ass again for your own good?" His voice was reasonable and level in the ringing quiet after Nero's shouting. Somehow this made his words sink in easier and Nero lowered his fist and his head, remembering how he'd had given his all against Dante and failed, only to find out the man hadn't fought anywhere near to his limit.
"Listen to me Nero." Dante's use of the young man's name surprised Nero and he listened intently. All anger fading. "I need you to ask you something. Tell me about your family."
Nero blinked, caught completely off guard by this apparent change in subject.
"Well" he began hesitantly. "I've never known the first thing about my parentage," unaware, he rubber the fingers of his right claw hand "but I guess I'm an orphan of sorts. I was taken in by the Order as were Kyrie and Credo when they're parents were killed. I guess the pair of them are the only real family I've ever known."
Dante smiled at this, the idea of family was important. He still recalled the time long ago when he'd had one. He felt glad that although he'd lost Credo, Nero still had Kyrie. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to be left alone as he had been. Still, he didn't have time for such sentimentality if Nero was to wake up and smell the music before his relationship with Kyrie was damaged beyond repair.
"Family eh? But judging from that expression of your back in Fortuna and just now when you were talking about him, I'd say I'm right in thinking that, if Credo had been that way inclined, you wouldn't have said no."
The red returned to Nero's face but this time it burned in his cheeks, He hadn't realised that his interest in Credo had been so obvious. Somehow he felt wrong talking about this while in bed with the other man. It was just as well Dante wasn't the type to be jealous.
"So!" Nero snapped, instantly regretting how childish it sounded but his embarrassment was taking over as a rub at the side of his nose proved. "I told you that he wasn't into that kind of thing, What does it matter now anyway?"
"But I'd guess I'm also right in thinking that you and Kyrie never…"
"Of course not! Don't be sick! I wouldn't do that to her! I wouldn't…" his voice trailed into silence as he took in his own reaction. Once again he looked off, lost in his memories of Kyrie. They were as vivid as ever yet some how the context of them seemed to have shifted. He recalled long walks they'd taken together, watching the seagulls circling over the water, listening to her plans for her singing career and her worries for Credo. His heart always warmed to her when the two of them were together and he knew he would do anything to protect her. Yet there was something missing in his feelings for her, though he loved her with all his soul. His pulse didn't quicken at the thought of her smile, his hands didn't shake at the thought of touching her.
He rubbed the side of his nose, remembering as he did so that the gesture had accompanied the almost-kiss they'd shared in the ruined plaza. He felt he understood his own body language a little better now. He'd been nervous about the prospect of kissing Kyrie, that was true, yet he could now trace the root of his flustered awkwardness to embarrassment rather than exhilaration.
Turning to lie on his back Dante watched as things seemed to click into place in Nero's mind. Still sitting up in the bed, Nero went from staring off, internal revelations clearly displayed on his easily readable face, to burying his face in his hands and groaning. He couldn't imagine how he'd got by being so blind for so long. He hated that smug, arrogant Dante seemed to know more about what made him tick than Nero himself.
"Don't beat yourself up kid."
All the familiar cockiness had returned to Dante's voice and he yawned hugely, his back arching as he stretched to become more comfortable. Nero uncovered his face and stared at Dante as if at a stranger until the other grinned at him and raised an eyebrow suggestively.
"You've nothing to feel ashamed of kid. It's not like you married her then saw the light. Besides, if I really thought you were stepping out on a hottie like that you wouldn't have made it through the front door."
Still a little stunned, Nero swallowed hard before he was able to speak again.
"I'm going to have to tell her, make her understand this wasn't meant to hurt her. God she's gonna hate me!"
Dante heard the threat of tears creeping into Nero's voice and cut him off.
"Hey! None of that. Give the girl some credit kid. You've not lied to her and it's not as if you're running off to never see her again. Hell the two of you can still play house if you want. You said it yourself kid. Don't judge her too harshly. If she loves you too she should want you to be happy."
Nero gave a smile, feeling consoled, which Dante met with an x-rated wolf grin.
"Or if you're too much of pansy now to go back and face her, you've always a friend right here who knows his way around a lady's heart."
Nero snorted a laugh and returned Dante's mocking tone.
"What makes you think I'd let a degenerate like you anywhere near her you perverted old man?"
He cocked his head and dipped it so as his hair fell into his eyes and he looked over at Dante through it. The noise level outside had picked up some as the bars and clubs disgorged their drunken late-night revellers onto the streets. Broken, disjointed bursts of song cut through the night place of the thumping beat of music playing in enclosed rooms. The little light that made its way into the room cast a shadow over Dante as Nero mover to lean over him intimately.
"All I'm saying kid, is that if you don't appreciate her curves let a real man have a try."
"Kid? You'll regret that old geezer," he placed on hand on either side of Dante's head "and if you think I'm not a real man you'll be blushing pretty pink when I'm through with you." Dante raised an eyebrow again.
"Shouldn't you show your elders a little more respect kid?"
"Hope you've a wheelchair ready old man."
Needless to say it was some time before either of them rolled over to sleep.