Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to Capcom and Square-Enix. The only character that I DO own is Cooley, and KitaraStrife owns Kitara, but lets me use her, seeing as I'm the one who writes the most on our Chaos-house stuff. Ahem. Onward!
Despite his exhaustion, Nero's day had not been particularly stressful or tiring. It had been the usual dealing with Dante, Lady, Trish, and also the addition of the resident crazy, Kitara. The usual boring demon hunting job that paid him very little. The usual teasing and being called 'kid'. Just…the usual.
'Somehow,' he thought as he dragged his weary carcass into his room within the once-hotel, 'the norm is especially exhausting. Maybe because it's so repetitive.' Nero sat heavily on the bed. 'Or, it could be because I stayed up so late last night.'
He rolled his azure eyes. Of course that's why he was tired. Stupid. Stupid. Oh, how very stupid was he! Nero shook his head vigorously, his white hair flopping in his eyes. "Okay," he said aloud to no one in particular, "time to get some sleep before I start quoting Shakespeare." With that, he kicked off his boots, shrugged out of his jacket, and flopped face-down onto the welcoming bed.
'But, you like Shakespeare.' Chimed the little voice in his head.
His brow furrowed. 'Shush.' He mentally told the voice.
'You like Romeo and Juliet.' It continued, ignoring him.
'Shut up, little, irritating voice.'
'And you like Hamlet, and-'
'Shut the fuck up!'
Nero waited for a moment, remaining completely still as he listed for the nap-interrupting noise. It wasn't long until he slipped in blissful unconsciousness.
Like his day, Nero completely expected his subconscious to throw something of the norm at him. A dream of Kyrie, of Fortuna, the past, or even of Dante teasing him, again. He wasn't prepared for the dream to come.
His dream-self opened clear blue eyes to find himself in his room. He almost thought that he had merely woken up, until he spotted a beautiful someone leaning against the doorway to his room. Nero's eyes widened at the sight.
This man… his eyes were closed, long arms folded over a thin chest. Long, black hair that was rather messy and unkempt fell to his waist, brushing against the belt of his pants. And, for some reason or another, it seemed as though skeletal, robotic wings sprouted from between his shoulder blades.
Nero's breath caught as those dark lashes lifted and the crimson eyes beneath turned to him, the strange man's lips quirked upwards into a small smirk. "Hello, there," came the low purr of a voice, odd sounding and heavily accented from somewhere over in Europe, "what is your name?"
The white haired young man spluttered as the other pushed himself off of the doorway and moved toward him. So thin, delicate. The pale skin of the stranger contrasted sharply with his black hair, not fading or blurring with it like his. This man… he was everything that he wasn't.
The dark stranger smirked again as his hand, adorned with black nails, landed lightly upon his shoulder. "You aren't mute, now, are you?" Nero shivered, feeling just the tiniest bit dizzy from listening to the accented voice.
He shook his head, white hair falling into his eyes. "I'm Nero," he answered, breath catching again when the other's thin fingers threaded through his hair, "And you?"
The unnamed young man didn't answer with a name. All he said was, "So strange." And, before Nero could ask what, exactly, was strange, the other drew his lean arms around his neck and pressed his soft, yet cold lips against his.
Nero couldn't help but be reminded of that one song. Something that went, 'You are my heaven tonight,' or something like that.
He had never dreamt of something like this before. Never dreamt of someone sharing this sort of thing with him. His dream self let his eyes slide shut as he returned the kiss, that song playing through his head.
The next morning, Nero awoke with a start, blue eyes flying open then quickly squeezing shut when the sunlight filtering through his windows caused his pupils to contract painfully. "Shit," he murmured, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the back of his left hand, "the hell was that dream?"
He flopped backward, head hitting the pillow. "Who was that guy?"
As the ex-Order member moved out into the main area and was about to go to the kitchen, lured by the scent of coffee, the resident crazy's 'sister', Cooley, called him over.
"We thought it might be funny," she said, grinning, "if you two met. So, Nero," she gestured to a young man sitting on the near-by couch, "this is Nero."
Nero looked over at the other man and inhaled sharply as he stood. Black hair that fell to his waist, crimson eyes, and skeletal wings attached to his back. The other Nero extended a hand toward him. The white haired one glanced at the hand, spotting black nails. "A pleasure to meet you," the accented voice purred, and then murmured, "It's so strange."
The white haired Nero raised an eyebrow. "Yeah." He shook the shorter one's hand.
Nero the Sable gave him a knowing smirk.
Author's Notes: I don't intend to continue this. It was just a plot-bunny thing I needed to get out of my system. However! If you want to see this continued, I might do so. Let me know what you think. . Reviews are requested, but not required.
