Nero left you on all fours on the bed, forcing you to lean forward on your arms for support as he licked that final orgasm out of you and leaving you clawing at your chest while the scream sizzled inside your lungs. Once you were clean, he lifted your butt and slid from underneath you onto his feet, having to wipe very little moisture from the sides of his face. You sat on your knees and silenced your aching heart that had to put in overtime to regulate your breathing, clenching the soft sheets of your bed between your fingers as a last ditched effort to quell the long, dragging moans still erupting from your lips. "Now why did you go and do that?"

He was sucking his fingers and cherishing your taste for as long as he could. "I wanted to. You looked so good in nothing and I had already teased you enough to nullify that shower, so I figured I'd help out in keeping you as clean as I possibly could, given the circumstances."

Nero had the habit of standing half in and half out of any door he encountered, wanting to leave and also wanting to get the last word in should the other half of the conversation say anything under their breath; you barely had anything in your lungs after his hearty breakfast of your liquid orgasm, evident as ever in the unmistakable outline of his body against your white-painted door. "And I'm guessing you don't need any help with that problem?"

"I get a boner when I'm hungry." That was strangely believable in your books; if it were legal to marry or covet with food, he'd be the first to try. He tried to be serious, hiding his arousal by leaning against the doorframe and lifting his visible leg at the knee, his combat boots finding easy footing on the smooth piece of wood. "There's still pizza downstairs, right?"

You nodded. "Keep me a few slices?"

He stood to his normal height once, proving his endeavour pointless – was it possible for him to have swollen some more behind the rigid fabric? "You'll have to hurry then. I eat things really fast when I need to… on purpose."

You would have shot up where you were and used your energy reserve to beat him to the kitchen, but that almighty sneer he gave you as his bringer disappeared behind the door kept you well in place on your knees, forcing you to crunch your teeth as you stood and changed to a more simplistic bottom covering with minimal added extras for no one's benefit. It was only ten in the morning and the cold breeze of the town had yet to pick up; the sun was shining brightly through your glass windows and heated the room quickly as you found an old pair of snug black ugg boots to go with your new chosen lace and your favourite pink hoodie – the one who's soft, woolly insides kept the warm in and the cold out – before trekking down the stairs with the shred of confidence Nero had yet to shatter by means of any one of his limbs.

There was, however, no need to hurry: he was a lazy bugger on weekends, taking sixty minutes instead of twenty to do a five minute job simply because there was 'no rush' as he did things 'on his own time'. Naturally, your burst of oomph came too early for his liking as he was still taking the pizza out of the oven to ready it for the microwave. What kind of human was he, to heat up one slice of pizza when there was a functioning oven close by? You knew it wasn't his first choice of junk food so you couldn't blame him for dishonouring the culinary feat, and you took it upon yourself to teach him how it was properly done and how you liked it. You had to, correct? You were now an item, indirectly, so where was the harm?

"Would you mind stepping aside, Nero?" He wasn't expecting to hear your voice so soon, let alone wander in your flat wearing the outfit you were; the box dropped out of his hands and onto the counter, flexing his hands out of need to keep them away from you. "What you were about to do would break my heart into tiny, tiny pieces."

To your utter stroke of genius, every piece of cutlery you needed were at the bottom and far back of your kitchen cupboards; the single flat metal tray and the pizza cutter gift set from your mother set in a deep corner already collecting dust, to which you rightfully got on your hands and knees to retrieve, an extra deep arch to your back and a slight lift to the hoodie as payback for what he had just done to you. You dampened the cloth at the sink and gently wiped at the layer of dust on the tray, ripping the box at the corners and sliding the entire pizza onto it for a perfect fit. You gave him the flattened box to tear, to which he stood still gaping at your frame. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm gonna reheat the whole thing in the oven." You knew that wasn't what he was referring to, but feigning it seemed much more fun and would ultimately land you in less trouble. "Mind throwing that away for me?" You meant the huge bin outside; what you heard behind you could only be described as the most heated and entertained flurry of cardboard flying in every direction, turning with his eyes burning into your soul as tiny chunks sat happily in his claw, small enough to be thrown in the kitchen trash. Nero's iced ceruleans never left you as you continued to dance in the kitchen, preheating the oven for a few minutes until it was ready, declining his help and stretching as you saw fit at the high-set oven; with slightly parted legs your perky posterior was on full display for an in-depth scrutiny from the whining soul at the other end of your kitchen, turning the dial to a higher temperature for the cheese to return to its melting consistency. "Would you like some coffee? You look thirsty."

The kettle was right next to the sink, but that didn't stop you from 'accidentally' forgetting your surroundings and walking around the island counter to bend in front of it fill with water. "Don't make mine too strong; would hate to overload and bounce off your walls by the time we get home." He couldn't even think of anything smart to say, so he just resorted to his high intelligence? Oh, you were doing well – you gave yourself a mental pat on the back, and you were only at thirty seven percent completion of your milking operation.

You took the occasional peek in your blind spot and watched him lose his grip on reality slowly but surely, never interrupting your work but having to remember to keep himself in check in case something awful were to happen in the place that made you most happy. You passed him his black coffee and moved with purpose for one last glance at the pizza; while switching the contraption off you caught his face in the reflection in the metal-glass door, biting the corner of his lip as your eyes made contact. "You think I don't know what you're doing?"

You grabbed your mug of coffee and sauntered to him, sitting in the opposite seat of the bench and facing the very bane of your existence. "I'm not doing anything, Nero. It must be your imagination." You gave him an innocent look and sipped your ambrosia, concealing any part of your open body away from him. "I have no reason to do what you think I'm doing, nor would I ever think of doing what you think I'm doing. So why would I? What I'm not doing is everything you think I'm doing, and that's your fault. Not mine."

He tapped his fingers on the table, narked in high spirits. "God, don't do that..."

"Do what?"

He dipped his middle finger in the liquid tar, tracing it around the rim of the ceramic. "That thing you do when you speak fast using concepts under similar circumstances and confusing me when the only thing I can think of is dragging you up those stairs and-"

"And what, Nero? You've exhausted your extensive library; right now, all you can do is sit on that biteable ass and eat pizza with me." You set your mug aside and climbed on the table like a wild tigress crawling across the small gap and stopping within an inch of his face, urgency and earnest glossing your piercing stare. "That is all I will permit until I get that damn cake…" Your tongue darted into his mouth in a single deep stroke for good measure, your hand twining with his strands to pull his head back as your teeth got hold of his bottom lip. "So stay there and be my good boy."

A small ding sounded from the oven and you leaped off the table, empowered by your actions and the fact that he actually listened to you; the heat of the tray almost boiled through your industrial strength oven mitts as you pulled it from the oven and straight onto the counter, plating two slices each.

Nero moved into your side as you sat, stretching his claw on the cushion behind you and sweetly kissing the visible part of your neck. "That's my girl," he says, his eyes unmoving from your frame as your left hand squeezed his inner thigh almost making him choke on the tiny bite he took from his meal; you used your index to spread his legs, thanking the gods he wore no belt this time, and popped the tiny button and zipper homing the final act for the morning. He continued chewing at the breathing space you provided until his jaw locked as skin rubbed skin, your warm hands holding no control over what was to happen next as you casually ate your slice, enclosing him in your fist and using your wrist to move the tight material lower on his hips and bringing his erection out for some much needed air. He hardened in your grasp, dropping his food into his plate and licking his lips while his head fell into the supporting cushion, his blue eyes rolling back into his skull.

"There's a good boy."

You locked the front door behind you, warmly dressed and ready to have your socks knocked off; Nero waited for you at your car as you stuffed your keys into your backpack and made your way to him, walking up the main street side by side; he playfully bumped into you as you walked, knocking you slightly off balance and seeing you struggle in getting him to move any remote number of inches across the street. It was unlike anything you had pictured, something as simple as a walk made extraordinary by the simplest means possible, comforted in knowing you were undoubtedly safe with him by your side, come what may.

You reached for his hand as a truce to his relentless play, caressing the blue and red scales until you felt the squishy part of his blue palm to which he reacted immediately, hovering to the other side of your frame and grabbing you hand. "What's that for?"

Nero looked to you as if you should know the reason for his awkward behaviour, scratching the back of his head with his claw. "I'm holding your hand."

"But why did you go all the way over there?" Oh yes, that's right; many of his insecurities had stemmed from the fact that only one of his hands were normal, having to adjust to daily life not using his stronger hand and becoming ambidextrous in the process – you couldn't believe that something so small still bothered him, with you especially, but on the other hand that thing was pretty damn unpredictable at times. You didn't go near it unless Nero gave you the go-ahead or when it called out to you begging to be touched for his sake, but it was still as foreign as he believed it to be, and that was a notion you had to respect. "It won't hurt me-"

"How do you know that?"

He looked up ahead, now walking in a straight line with the frisky zigzag out of his system. You were sure he was nervous, also anticipating when this particular conversation was bound to come up and getting ready to face the music at the one aspect of him that you now had to get used to. Who were you kidding; you loved the thing since the first day and it loved you; the communication channels might have been clogged up in his ears from those bloody headphones he wore all day. "I don't." You were being honest – you really had no clue, but if it were to hurt you wouldn't it have had the job done during the fifteen plus years you'd known one another? It was weak reasoning at its finest but it's all you had, and that's what would have to do for now.

You followed his action and pushed him to your left, carefully lacing your fingers between the individual glowing digits; Nero couldn't believe you at that point, choosing to rather let it stew than argue a point he'd already lost as you smiled away at the warming limb, holding it sternly between both your hands. Being the tall hunk he was, you had to tilt your head to gage his expression; to your own undoing he was in the perfect position to kiss you, utilising a single finger to pull you to your tippy toes and lay a nice deep one on you.

"You're adorable when you get your way, you know that?"

You knew it, but that was your new official favourite line to stem from him, aside from 'come in my mouth' or your ultimate favourite, 'I won't stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbours know my name'. What could you say; you were dirty at heart – some cuteness was certain to pull through.

It was a quaint shop that you missed if you weren't paying attention, the mysterious hues and light pastel colours suited for a best kept secret in Nero's books; at twelve in the afternoon it was surprisingly full, bustling with esteemed men and women from all across town – no, really, the way they were dressed wasn't matched for a day out with cake, looking like most of them were on their way to the office or just finishing up an important business meeting; both of you were clothed in quite the opposite and you were tempted to turn back and find something a little more appropriate for the place. You checked your outfit once again and it wasn't all that bad but it wasn't as nice as the ones you were currently gaping at; he could have at least warned you-

"NERO! What brings you here on a weekend? Had enough of those dusty books I see!" Your interest piqued at the loss of warmth to your hand, watching your beloved storm the entrance to the shop and encase a man taller than him in the cutest bear hug you'd ever seen. The distaste in the waitron's face was obvious, his pride taking a knock at being picked up so easily but laughing all the same at the chance to see him. "So what's the story this time? Did you get a ninety seven on a maths test and you simply couldn't wait to drown your sorrows in some blueberry cheeseca-" While the man in uniform spoke, Nero lovingly ushered you to his side and you obeyed, letting him lead you through the unfamiliar environment that was his world; a world you knew nothing about owing to him being too chopped off for society to handle. His hand rested at the small of your back, tickling the warm skin and earning a giggle from you while he kissed your temple. "So this is her…?"

Her? He told them about you? You were almost upset that he missed out on two warnings, but the gentle smile against your skin dissolved any and every thought you had instantaneously; you hid your blushing face in his chest, unable to handle the attention he was giving you. "It is."

Nero nudged you forward slightly into the man's extended hand. "My lady," he said; they were unexpectedly soft and warm, closing both of his own around yours. "It is so good to finally put a face to a name." Goodness, wasn't he gorgeous; up close his undercut black hair and piercing green eyes made him look like he was taken from a haunting fairy-tale ending, the definitive villain that the princess might have picked over the hero because of the endless galaxies she could wander in his eyes whilst raking her fingers downward to the waistband of his-

"He has that effect on everyone. Don't feel guilty."

You had no idea you were staring, but feeling guilty you would not. "Use it, please; don't get all fancy on me. I might not be able to understand you."

He let go of your hand for you to return to your own tailored prince charming, standing with his hands in his pockets and chuckling at the expected action. "That happened to me the first time too," and as much as it was something you'd kill to see, your eyebrows still shot up at the concept of Nero loving someone else; there was no doubt he could pull it off, but that would be a sin the world couldn't forgive. "I mean, why not? He's stunning! He was the first person to ever make me second guess my sexuality."

Nero took you by the hand and led you further into the establishment, cutely hooking his fingers into yours as he blindly led you with the lightest of touches. "Was he the only one?"

Nero shook his head. "Another two followed after him, but you'll see what I'm talking about soon enough."

Soon enough? Before you could contemplate and internalise anything he'd said your edible waiter returned as a godsend, and again wiping your consciousness clean of every question you needed to ask both of them. "Your usual table, Nero?" It seemed a two-way streak, giving his confirmation with a sultry wink and having him lead them to a secluded corner table beyond another double door surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows and a view to die for; every article in front of you was delicate and meticulously placed, right down to the tassels flowing in the gentle breeze that had picked in the short time you took to find your seats. "You'll have your normal?" He was speaking to Nero, pulling out the chair that faced the greenery outside and giving you a handsome smile, your go ahead to take the open seat as he tucked you in.

Nero took the chair to your left as you hoped he'd become part of the view. "Please."

The heavenly stranger leaned on the back of your chair. "And for the beautiful one who's clearly out of your league?"

He was laying it on thick; it's his job and you weren't complaining. "I thought you were referring to him," you said coyly, wanting to join in on the game as innocently as possible. "I will have whatever he's having."

Wow, a sophisticated palate too? You could either be setting yourself for a world of hurt or finding out certain facts about Nero he wanted to keep under wraps for your protection, but the more you stepped into and soaked in his world, no harm could befall wanting to see him outside of how he was with you. You thought you knew all there was to him, and you were suddenly intrigued at this entire other side of the matchbox; the part that pays no interest to the ones who were arsonists by nature but a vital role for the individuals lighting their first candle. "Two lemongrass and rose water granitas with Absolut vodka..." your waiter broke your train of thought and brought you back to reality, giving you a look that required a nod of confirmation before he complete his sentiment. The drink sounded exotic as it was foreign, even more so than the day you were having. You gave him a smile and he continued, providing you the option to change your mind. "…coming up."

You turned and watched him float to the bar in the corner you had missed on the way in as he pulled out a huge metal tray he shouldn't have been capable of lifting himself; the man to your left was deep in thought, troubled almost, with his fingers laced underneath his chin. Nero was completely different from how he had been the moments leading up to this and you thought best to try and get his mind off things with a quick slap to his noggin. "You could have warned me."

He chuckled at the hand that had found his outer thigh. "About what?"

"Your secret high life of luxury." Your other hand swept the atmosphere as if he were blind of the intricacy and elegance surrounding him.

"This isn't my secret-" The door to their compartment opened once again; two strapping figures slipped through, greeted the waiter at the bar to place their order and caught his eye, one offering an age-defying smile to the bartender grabbing at the bottle of vodka for their drinks. "Hold that thought, they're here."

They? More than one? Okay, this was number three-

"Long time no see, kid." The sentence rang in your ears and impaled your skull.

"Brother, he has a name; use it." Again, the sultry sound stabbed you in the chest. Why?

"Can't do that – I've only ever used it once and it left a bad taste on my tongue."

"Please don't forget we are in his lady's company; do your best to display all the manners you have so proudly disposed of all those years ago."

Your back was to the bickering pair. What was up with these two? "She'll love me anyway-"

"And no flirting either."

A smile had covered Nero's face as yours shaded over in psychedelic pink, watching the scene unravel through his features. "Oh come ooooooooon-"

"You will be gracious, Dante. Accept the boundaries this time."

Your mind told you not to; you'd find out in a few seconds who they were and you fought with your spine to rotate on the spot, but you didn't have to. A big, scorching hand found its way to your shoulder and unknowingly froze you on the spot; you did what you could to stand up, your eyes assailed by the owner of the hand that was now in your line of sight – tall, broad shouldered, and more handsome than the voices that had led on; silver hair you imagined to be softer than any marshmallow you have ever touched; a pair of crystal clear, penetrating blue orbs more comforting than a summer's breeze; plump, kissable lips above a jawline that came a close second to Nero; a strong, smooth, creamy neck sitting on a pronounced muscular torso leading down to a slim, lean waist, legs that stretched as far as your line of sight allowed itself to see; the pair of Converse made sense somehow, adding a steady amount of mischievousness to his character that was fitting to what you were looking at. He wore black and red as if it were created for him, tight enough to leave the right amount of imagination to be put to good use and captivating for you to want to see more. You clutched his extended hand with the least sensual of smiles, not wanting to get into trouble with your boyfriend; the stranger did the same but on the opposite end of the stick, daring you to look away at his impressive feat of seducing you by mere touch. "That's Dante; one of them." At the mention of his name he scrunched his nose, showing an adorable side to the stout hunk of a man he was.

The other voice from before sounded directly behind you. "Dante, stop that."

"I'm greeting her, Vergil." The hand on your back moved with him as he floated to Nero's side, letting go of yours and enveloping him in a sweet hug destined to give you toothache later in the day. "She's the one doing the staring."

Nero chimed in, nuzzling into Dante's chest like a child who'd lost his favourite toy on the playground. "Let her get it out of her system; it's not like you can blame her." His shoulders shook at the end of a hearty laugh with the bigger man joining him, kindly and easily resting his cheek on his head.

What on earth was going on? "Not the most sound piece of advice to give your girlfriend…" The other carried out the same action and received the same reaction as before; he looked exactly like Dante but with a different hairstyle, facial expression, and manner of clothing – he preferred the colder palette, sporting baby and navy blue hues in his attire and the same pair of shoes as Dante. There was a different aura to him, however, one that superseded the red-clad figure and sat restlessly at the tip of your tongue yet narrowing it to a logical thought would take up too much of your time and brain capacity; you were sure that tightly-wrapped scarf hid subtle, irresistible nuances to his demeanour, chiselled for purposes beyond your likelihood and area of expertise. You extended your hand and he took it gracefully, holding it by your fingers and placing a small kiss to it. "I apologise for my brother. He gets away with murder by the simplest means of a smirk in your direction."

And so well-said by someone who knew the advantages of the very gesture, holding the capability of amplifying it to the most formidable power; definitely more calculated and precise, you thought to yourself, knowing what he wants and how he wanted it, a refined delicious predator as opposed to the carefree soul standing by the seat directly opposite you. "And that's Vergil; the other one." The aforementioned gave you a charming smirk as he left your hand and shifted a few steps to the seat to your right, leaning over the table to shake Nero's hand. "They're twins, just in case you knew and needed confirmation."

You understood – fully. If you were to lose to any of the three, you'd be more than happy. Nero would be in good hands; big, soft, loving hands. Your three companions all stood at their seats, waiting for you to be seated first. Why did they have to be well-mannered too? "Can we sit now? My legs can't handle you four."

"Four?" They followed your lead as you sat and pointed to the footsteps making its way to your table; he balanced a tray full of drinks in one hand and a heavy wooden block in the other, his pitch-black cropped waves flowing behind him like a superhero cape to rescue you and your feigned damsel in distress alarm that only you heard in your head. "Oh, you've taking a liking to Lars?"

"That's his name?" You were so caught up in the complexity of it all you didn't even think to look at his bloody nametag. "He's really handsome."

Their server placed their drinks on an adjacent table, shifting their cutlery and setting the big block of wood in the centre; on it were a selection of spheres and cubes covered in different flavours of what you assumed to be chocolate and frosting assisted by elegant gold script underneath. He handed over the drinks to their respective choosers, giving each a warning of the temperature of their selected beverage. "I'll hover back in a few minutes to get your orders."

Lars was about to tend the new flurry of customers at the door but you stopped him on his way, lightly grazing his wrist as he passed your seat. "I'm sorry, but what is this?"

The green-eyed wonder turned on the balls of his feet and held your hand tenderly as he explained, his attention solely on you and your cute puzzlement. "That's today's menu, my dear; those are the cakes we currently have on the shelves." He leaned over your left shoulder hand pointing to the gold lettering, purposely swathing you in his striking scent. "Underneath are their names and any allergens contained within them. The rest is a surprise that you have to work out for yourself."

An interactive menu? They gave out cake for free? "What is this place?"

He looked toward Vergil who sipped at his hazelnut latte and then at you. "The owner is right next to you, ask him; there's method to his madness but be sure to use base level English when speaking to him." Lars melted your kneecaps again before making an interrupted retreat, closing the oak door behind him for some privacy.

That was number four. "This is your shop?"

To your demise he began untying the scarf on his neck. "Nero didn't tell you?"

"In my defence I was about to." He held his straw in his hands mixing his drink while the other searched for yours to hold; he found it quickly, pulling it out of your lap and entwining them in the space between you. He was taking ownership now, visibly illustrating where your loyalties lied despite the earlier harmless flirting and reminding you of his earlier pledge.

You copied his activities and mixed your makeshift cocktail, taking a hearty swig and having it amaze you at its smoothness. For a frozen drink it was not what you expected. "It's amazing, Vergil."

The blue brother bowed his head. "Thank you." He might not have shown it, but he was very proud of the establishment he renovated from the ground up: previously an old vintage boutique, he changed very little about the structure and instead added a few walls here and there, keeping the weathered ambience as an extra feature to the endeavour; the tables and chairs were tasteful and dear to the theme, and the menu reflected both old-aged classics and modern twists to them – a few names on the board you hadn't heard or seen expressed their creative talents in a competing industry. "And you sound shocked."

He squeezed your hand, wrenching your attention from the pastry chef. "Too delicate for him, right?"

Vergil's eyebrows shot up as he set his glass on the table wearing a frothy moustache. "I can be delicate, Nero."

"No, you can't Vergil." His brother calmly added for extra effect, nonchalantly drinking from his Chai-spiced cappuccino and pulling a face at the multifaceted tastes that went into making it; he sat back snuggly into his chair and gave you a tempting wink, turning to his brother and mentally readying his best comebacks for anything he had to say in return.

He took the bait. "And what do you know, Dante?"

"Much more than I should, brother."

Vergil's face was steel, a direct contrast to Dante's bottom lip clamped between his teeth, inviting his brother for a jab to his scaling temperament. Nero called you to him with a single finger, leaning into your neck to whisper into your ear. "They bicker a lot; sometimes to argue the exact same point." His breath was hot on your neck; it hit you so hard you'd forgotten what he'd said in the seconds he asked the twins a question. "Do you know what you want?"

Blue brother nodded. "Blue velvet with extra velvet."

You looked to Nero for clarification. "Cake shaped alcohol, basically."

Dante flicked his fingers over the board and chose one at random, triumphantly popping it into his mouth and regretting it instantly. "Of all the things, I had to grab spinach." Vergil had done countless experimentation with both fruits and vegetables, the more logically reasonable making the menu as opposed to the attempt at making the horrible sound like something you wanted to eat. He did it again, reading the name this time and sinking into his chair at how good it was. "Can never go wrong with chocolate."

You were curious. "What's in there?"

"I have no clue but it tastes amazing." He kept on chewing, letting himself fall in love with it even more each individual ingredient hit his taste buds.

Vergil leaned forward and inspected the name. "In a nutshell: chocolate sponge, coffee cream, caramel fudge, normal whipped cream and essence of vanilla and white chocolate. You can have shaved almonds on request." He tried undeniably hard to keep the smugness from his face at his brother dying in one of his original creations, winning the bet that he could get him to eat anything sweet that wasn't a strawberry.

"And you, sweetheart?" Nero was staring at you, moving toward you again to speak softly; he knew how much you loved it when he whispered to you, an added gruffness to his voice at a lower decibel that was as enthralling to your senses. "You have anything in mind that you want?"

"I do."

He smiled as he looked to the board, nothing missing apart from Dante's two victims of his own game he played every time they came here. "You didn't try anything-"

"I wasn't talking about the cake…" Your honesty earned you a blushing hue to your cheeks, giggling at the face he had returned after your revelation. "Which one do you think I should take?"

Without looking at the board, he randomly pointed into thin air, miraculously singling one of them out. "That one. I'd feed it to you but the shell melts really quickly." Nero grabbed the sphere closest to him and held it between his fingers, illustrating his point before dropping it between his lips. "And we both know the problem I have with body temperature…" He smiled along with his chews, tucking his long hair behind his ear as his sharp jaw made mincemeat out of the delicacy; he licked at the spots where the soft chocolate had stained his hand, skilfully lapping at the dark sixty percent aphrodisiac; he knew what it did to you, ignoring the fact that you were practically drooling on the expensive tiles before hauling your attention to the man on your right, leaving your pending arousal hanging in mid-air. "Which one do you recommend she try, Vergil?"

"What is it that you like?" His sexy, velvet voice was no help to the pounding beneath your belly.

You turned to the discreet cake genius, blowing out a lungful of oxygen at how much attractiveness surrounded you. "Cake," you said with every possible ounce of truth in your voice, followed by an endearing chuckle from Dante; no comment, just him trying to conceal his cuteness behind his mug of spices.

Vergil straightened in his chair a little more composed than his brother, but the itch of a smile was evident across his flawless mouth. "The menu boards are laid out from mildest flavour to the most extreme combinations, bottom left to upper right. It all depends on your mood, what you're used to, and it's catered to be an easy guide to the newbies to choose the right slice for whatever reasons they may have." He looked at your cocktail and gave it a small whiff, swirling the tastes in his mouth while overlooking the board. "If we're going to pair it with what you're drinking, you should go for those three." You watched his finger float over three very different balls: Orange Blossom, Devil's Kiss, and Verry Berry. "If you don't, these three would be a good start before you move to the more adventurous selection." Angel Dust, Pryna, and Traditional Mocha Sponge. "Unless you prefer the deep end, in which case I simply cannot help you and you'd have to die finding out."

Sly, Vergil; very sly, and sitting at a table with three full grown men didn't help the innuendo either. "What qualifies as the deep end?"

"The entire back row – those are for experienced customers, ones that are used to our palate and style and are out to try something new. If one concept of flavour is your thing, don't go near those." Vergil was deep in thought as he took his fork to the lime green ball in the middle of the back row and slicing it in half, letting them fall onto their rounded sides to hold their portion of ooze. "You are more than welcome to have more than one slice, love."

He stabbed one half and handed it over to you with an expression that told you all you needed to know about what was going to happen to your mouth. "And what Dante had-" The fizz at the back of your jaw was your first sign that you were in trouble, the sugary mess effervescing all over your tongue before you had a chance to chew anything, "was a Chocolate Marble, the favourite for the kids; it's the sweetest item in our repertoire, made with traditional flavours that blend together really well. There's a warning that there's coffee inside and they don't seem to mind." Vergil stuffed the other half into his mouth, wearing his stoic face and no hint of mind-boggling confusion. "What you just had was bubble-gum root beer; don't let the colours deceive you."

As delicious at it was, the flavour combination left your mouth itching; the granita relieved some of the scorch but the vodka did the opposite, fuelling the small spark and making you cough embers; Dante quickly added more ice to his water and handed it to you, glugging half in one gulp and breaking the ice between your teeth. "And you say I'm bad."

Vergil swallowed, your near-death-by-fire experience palliated by the chunk of cake moving down his throat. "What do you mean by that?"

Dante blindly snatched another, giving it a death stare should it dare taste weird. "You're condemning her soul to Hell by looking at her the way you are." The gawk seemed to work, seeing spots of red and cream cheese frosting and immediate jealousy that fate was being so nice to him. "Boundaries my ass; you should be ashamed."

"I'm trying to take her mind off the stunt Nero just pulled, which, just so you know, isn't fair by any standards." His eyebrow was raised and lips pursed toward the boy; Nero turned his head straight away missing the disapproval by the skin of teeth, but you basked in the look, deliberating every single one of your life choices and mentally hissing at him for looking as good as he did pretending to be pissed off. "You have no right to talk of boundaries, you rusty wooden spoon."

So Vergil had a mouth on him – nice; its potency dissolved under the laughs of the other two but deftly cunning he was with his cunning smile and no nonsense demeanour all cling-wrapped in exquisiteness and given a final coating of molten sex to hypnotize the hardest of catches. Was there anything he couldn't pull off? "Right now-" your fingers crossed the table, pointing to the twins in tandem, "-literal angels. I choose not to say anything for you at the moment." Nero feigned a pain in his chest as your hand consoled his inner thigh under the table; you were unstoppable, digging your nails into the sensitive skin deliberately close to your happy place but all he did was spur you on by trailing his fingers on the back of your hand, no plain giveaway that you were basically roughing it in public.

Lars returned out of nowhere, standing in the space between you and Vergil. "Oh goodness, who got the spin- I won't finish that sentence." He knew to turn to the one in red, shaking his head in mock disfavour. "When are you going to read the names for once? That's why we put them there."

"He can't read; please forgive him." Vergil sat back and wrapped his arm around Lars's leg while he dug into white locks, ironing random strands of hair in their proposed direction.

Yes, your eyes weren't deceiving you; you even looked around the room to make sure that reality was at your fingertips – you squeezed hard into Nero's skin and he yelped, further proving that there was definitely something between them; how professional and completely unexpected, but at no point did it fancy your tickle enough to ask – you'd just met them; you needed to get on their good side before the personal questions ensued. "What are you guys in the mood for?"

"Angel Dust for me, thanks." Nero hadn't tasted anything, so you assumed that was the one he always had; either that or it was the stripper name he chose for himself.

"Chocolate Marble and Red Velvet, please." The latter was a dead giveaway, and that tiny ball must have packed quite the punch to convince him.

"I'm going to have my usual, please." And again, all eyes were on you as you shook your head at the vast collection. "Bring her the in-house. Whatever she doesn't have she can take home."

"A refill on the drinks? Or will you wait for the sides?" Sides? You were scared to look at him owing to your questions, but he took the silence as sure fire you were clueless. Again. "Each cake comes with a speciality coffee, perfectly blended to enhance the overall experience. You're not allowed to choose your own; that's the only rule we have here." Being the purring beast he was, Vergil adjusted his head under Lars' ministrations, the scratch on his scalp too good not to take advantage of. "The in-house comes with two half portions, the other half we give upon your request – just in case you can't finish it, we can send you home with the other portions."

They really pulled out all the stops, didn't they? "He knows what he's talking about; I'll trust his gut on this one."

"Perfect. I'll be back shortly." He gave one irresistible look to Vergil and was on his way, pulling that dangerous hand off his frame as he fulfilled his duty to his customers and taking the half empty board with him.

It seemed like you were the only one to witness it as both Nero and Dante were in their own world, chatting and laughing about who knew what; they were huddled in their own bubble whispering to each other while Vergil sipped at his drink, watching you watch his every move. "Yes," he said, those eyes gazing at you over the rim of his mug. "Whatever you were thinking, the answer is yes." His dreamy stare sent a vicious wink in your direction; the next time you walked through those doors will be with your sanity damaged beyond repair.

If a single ordinary soul walked through the doors sealing your party off, they'd assume the worst, considering the raucous laughter and nonsense spewing from the three men at your table; turns out the twins played a major role for Nero when he moved out to join you in college so far away from home. He never bothered telling you about his troubles thinking it would burden you and your workload, wanting you to take your work seriously and not having to worry about him, but it sounded like it went far worse than you could have expected; the mental strain of not being at home, the unwarranted and inflexible hours with no proper structure and an improper diet all took its toll on his physical and emotional well-being, draining him during his first two years of his studies without a word to you. The men at the table were his pillars of support since then, meeting up at an old café and hitting it off in fourteen minutes max, peeling layer after layer of his troubles and sorting them out one by one and leading to a better, balanced life and probably the reason he was currently the highest achiever at the University; by the sounds of their stories together they broke him down and built him back up brick by brick, showering him in beatings and chicken soup, bruises and carbonara, until all his smiles went back to being genuine instead of hiding his accumulating bottled hurt he carried around on his shoulders, hunched under the pressures of his previous achievements and the expectations of his family and friends back home.

They had formed part of an external family that you were just learning about, three years in the making of the unbreakable bond that appeared to traverse dimensions; he held tightly onto your hand as the inside jokes and untold stories flowed among them, shared experiences you were unaware of and what seemed like a lifetime of not paying attention to the person you spent your life loving – you felt inanely selfish that even he'd think he would bother you with his problems; the fact that he thought he was a bother in the first place broke your heart into a thousand pieces. You looked at your laced hands and then up at him grinning and happy, unable to see him the way they had described. Maybe that was the point.

Your face was deadpan the entire way through, a plastered smile on your face that Nero took as not being a good sign; he crushed your hand and brought you out of your state of helplessness, and all you could think of how different they day had turned out to be. You were proud that he felt comfortable telling you absolutely anything, but what was this? The look you gave him was grave and his face plummeted to some unknown depth that even Dante understood. "Why don't the two of you get some fresh air? I'll call you when your cake gets here."

There was no time to answer; Nero stood and pulled you from your chair and headed to the big glass doors that lead to the patio; he opened it and let you step through, closing it and giving a quick nod to the twins who returned it. He was at your side immediately and you held his claw to your chest, a small habit you'd developed to tell him that everything was okay, stilling your heartbeat for him to feel that you weren't lying to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shifted from your side to stand directly in front of you, crashing his forehead to yours. "You had your own life to worry about. It was a long time ago-"

"A long time ago you were my life, Nero." You moved closer his to form soaking up the intense amount of heat he was exhuming. "I'm not sad, I'm not hurt, I'm not anything; it just sucks hearing it, that's all."

Nero had no clue it would affect you this much; the conversation alone was unplanned, and he thought you would laugh along to the ludicrousy. "Baby-"

"I'll be fine, I swear. Really," you reassured him, looking at your shoes as if they were the best things since sliced bread; a familiar tingle spread through your spine, knowing those passionate blue eyes were trying to measure the truth from your soul. "Don't give me that face; I'm good. Like Dante said, the air is good."

He claimed his hand and tilted you by your jaw to place a lingering kiss on your forehead. All was almost forgotten at the intimate moment, wishing it would last longer. "I won't apologise for not telling you."

"I won't expect you to."

"I didn't want you to know I was completely useless living alone. I didn't want you seeing me lose my mind, undernourished, barely taking care of myself, and not giving in to the clear signs that something was wrong. I was ashamed to be near you as you thrived and prospered, reaching those goals you set for yourself without a single complaint." Nero kissed you again with a slight quiver to his lips, invisible to the naked eye but you knew him too well. "All I can do is laugh at how ridiculous that time of my life was and that's what I'm doing. I'll never go back to that place."

You fell forward into his torso, his heartbeat as mesmerising as the first time you had heard it – his life and soul resounded in those deep echoes, revealing much more than a steady rhythm through which blood was resuscitated through his body. "How do you know that?"

"Because there's one difference now that wasn't there back then."

You couldn't resist. "An unlimited supply of cake?"

He forced you to look at him, that icy freezing you in place and making you weak in the knees. "You." He leaned in as if to kiss you, drifting over your lips as he spoke. "I didn't want you seeing me at my worst; I'm always at my best with you by my side, sweetheart."

You couldn't resist; he was so close yet so far, and all you wanted was to hold him, to feel him close, seal that promise with the kiss you've needed since you walked in. "I'm here, Nero. I don't plan to leave anytime soon." For the moment you had forgotten the two beings beyond the glass with one thing on your mind, the only thing that has taken most of its space for years. "Not that you'll let me, but-" He didn't let you finish: it had been too long a time since he had kissed you, tasting the obscure tinges of cake in your mouth as he explored every nook and cranny with long, deep strokes, breaking the kiss for only a moment to stare at your beauty in his own reality too good to be true. Nero kissed you again, lacing his fingers and resting them behind your head to deepen it as he pleased, digging into your psyche as far as his tongue would allow; you clutched at the material on his chest, quickly losing all feeling in your limbs at his intensity and using what was left of your reserves to hold onto him, oxygen becoming a second priority when he was this embedded in you, overcome by emotion at your presence and taking advantage of the isolated environment in showing what you truly meant to him in front of the two most influential beings in his life – you didn't care that you had an audience; you were so in love that you were ready to show the world, adoring the fact that he was in total control and moving at his own erratic pace and you went with the passionate flow, acknowledging the possibility of you regretting it later but not caring.

Who were you kidding? You were his and he knew it, for years now. The remaining ticks to your clock would be shared by his hand and his face, the numbers nothing more than abstract concepts to measure your eternity with each other in destroying the obstacles and milestones as one beating heart.

Dante played with what was left of his slice of red velvet, mindlessly cutting it into chunks with his fork and sticking them in his mouth with the incorrect ratio of cake to frosting; it frustrated Vergil to no end but heeded no mind to his unknowing antics he carried out under the lowest level of stress and anxiety his brother had ever put on display. "I swear I didn't know."

"You had no way of knowing." He ate his slice the correct way, precise and scrupulous in manner and slicing downward to get a fragment of every available flavour and enjoy it the way it was supposed to be eaten, not butchering the poor thing to make it more convenient to eat for the brother with more than enough vacant space. "She had every right to, so you did him a solid if you think about it. If you didn't open your big mouth she never would have known."

He looked up from his plate and fought with his peripheral vision as he poked himself countless times with a piece of crimson sponge. His deadpan face made it all the more hilarious to his brother who nearly choked on his double vanilla toffee affogato. "Thank you, brother – you really have a way with words." By no means did it or would it eat his conscience alive, but he had the capacity to feel guilty about having the topic hang over them and a blank face needing some form of explanation; Nero hadn't stopped his attempt at the subject matter so he presumed it was fine, but why that became spoken about in the first place he couldn't remember – the only thing that would stick in his head was that he had awoken it; the epicentre of disaster strikes his luck again.

"Dante, he's making things right as we speak; there's absolutely no reason for you to worry about them. The way he spoke of her was as if a meteor shower couldn't tear them apart; what's a one purposely forgotten memory compared to that?" Vergil had a point; he always did. "They'll be fine. You raised him better."

Some of the best conversations with his brother were the ones he couldn't point out as serious or teasing him in broad daylight. "I did, didn't I?" Dante looked outside at the pair with the picture-perfect backdrop as Nero began taking her breath away with his words; they held each other close with no signs of distress, wondering why he was so worried in the first place. How could he have thought what they had was in jeopardy? Neither twin knew her as well as Nero did, but from the way he ranted and raved about her it was clear that what they had transgressed human reckoning. "I'm amazing… We're amazing."

Vergil set his tiny cup down and followed his brother's gaze; they were alluring, standing in one spot, giving love the good name it didn't deserve. "I left you with all the emotional crap – all I did was feed him."

"And look at him now." Dante wiped at fake tears as Nero kissed her with all his might, mentally ticking the 'I hope he knows how to kiss' box and giving him one less thing to worry about to teaching him. As if. "Look at what we made, Vergil."

"Don't go making it sound cheesy." The plain thought left a bad taste in his mouth, taking a tiny drop of her granita as penance for the sour destruction of his taste buds at the mere concept. "We did not have sex and you did not birth him." Of course, he was allowed to have his quirks, was he not?

He crossed his legs stylishly under the table, sipping and chomping innocently at his treat with Dante clicking two milliseconds too late. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa… who made you in charge of choosing who'd birth him? You look good in any colour and could totally rock maternity clothes."

As true as it was… "I can't believe I'm having the conversation with you-"

"You move around more so the stretch marks would be nothing to get rid of. You're healthier and smarter and I'd probably annoy you with all the questions-"

"Again, this isn't happening-" Telling that to himself wasn't making it any better.

"More to my point, the moodiness suits you better; you were born a pregnant woman, huge penis aside."

Sometimes it was best to ignore him; now would have been one of those times should Vergil have had more cake, coffee, or alcohol to drown him out. "You have the paternal instin- what did you just say?"

Took him long enough; Dante licked pieces of red velvet from his fingers, taking his time in savouring the memories they shared like he would never come to the shop or order it again. "All I'm saying is-" the glass door opened in a flash of reflected light as Nero zipped through and crossed the rest of the room quickly, fluffing his hair as he disappeared behind the second door leading to the foyer. The twins looked at one another in utter confusion, not picking up any spike to his vitals or body heat when you stepped through the threshold and both of them stood out of their chairs. "Everything okay?"

"Everything is good." The smile on your face exhibited the exact opposite to Nero's reaction; their finished plates concerned you for a minute as you went to your seat. "Are we leaving? Please don't say we're leaving."

Dante's eyes followed you as you and Vergil took your seats, using much effort to appear relaxed. "What makes you think that?"

"You were standing up… and you stood at the same time so I thought you were just waiting for us to come back."

"The primal position for any anticipated action is to stand up; it's a natural reflex for both of us." Vergil crossed his arms over his chest and sunk into his popped collar, a hazy anxiety glossing the galaxies that were transfixed on you – that cold exterior was designed to deceive and you foolishly went along with his claim, beginning to see the greater heart that Nero did. His kindness did no harm to the badass façade and only deepened your respect for him; papa bear was in your sights, the clear-cut alpha of the three and the strongest physically, mentally, emotionally. "We didn't mean to startle you."

"Let me translate," said Dante, moving swiftly to your side and bending to whisper into your ear. "What he means is his natural instinct is to protect and take care of anyone affiliated with someone he's close to." He stood to his towering height and got the stink-eye from Vergil; it was probably the sexiest stink-eye you would ever encounter, layered in acid just in case the blazing stare didn't work. "But don't worry about it. That's just his thing."

You nodded. How sweet. "Nero went to the bathroom; he didn't realise that drinking a lot of liquids lead to this kind of situation."

Dante finally sat in his chair. "The two of you are good then?"

"More than good." You pinched at an itch at the skin between the back of your thumb and wrist, flecking your fingers to the sensitive spot as well. "Were you worried?"

"Nope."

"Not at all."

They spoke in synchronisation, which gave reason for you to believe it was the complete opposite end of the stick.

"That reminds me," you defeated the point to sitting down in the first place, getting up and sitting in Nero's chair to lean over and drape your arms over his shoulders; the improvised hug took them by surprise, and owing to you not stepping over any limit there may be, you considered your actions safe by any explanation. "Thank you for all you did for him. There's not much else I can say."

Dante sat immobile for a few seconds before turning to his brother, eyes wide in sarcastic fear. "Verge, she's touching me, what do I do?"

You laughed at his hands that dug at the arms, pretending to be uncomfortable at your touch; Vergil just covered his eyes and shook his head with a melodious chuckle directed at the table. "Human contact isn't my forte, unfortunately. Copy what she does and I'm sure it'll make sense at some point."

He got the gist of his twin's words, leaning forward and wrapping both his arms around your waist as per instruction. Your head slanted into the warm crook of his neck as you both nuzzled closer, soaking in the unspoken words of deep gratitude flowing through your body's energy; Dante moved your arms from around his neck to his hips upon seeing the weird stretch you were making and hugged you closer by your shoulders, one hand rubbing your back and the other embedded in your hair. "We should be thanking you; you're the true reason he got out of that mess."

He was the softest teddy bear you never had the chance to own. "You were there when he needed you."

"And we'd do it again if he ever needed us to. Right, Vergil?" You peeled yourself away from the man knowing that if you didn't you'd stay like that for the rest of the day; you were strong enough to not get emotional in the embrace, walking back to your seat and stealing a glance at the door. You guessed Vergil wasn't much of the hugger type – any type, rather – so you bowed to him in your seat, offering what you could to replace the hug you'd given Dante.

"Of course." He acknowledged it by mirroring your actions, watching as your hands enfolded the lukewarm drink next to your uneaten slices of cake; you sat in silence until you felt your hands being pulled from the ceramic and into Vergil's clutches – he held them firmly in his palms, scrutinising them in their entirety with a perplexed look on his creamy face. "Why are you shaking?"

The twin squished his face to one side as he lined them up palm to palm, the whole inner surface of each in line with the other. "I have no idea-"

The sting came quickly from both sides as he hit them hard, pressing them into each other to rid your skin of the pain he inflicted. "There. That should help."

It did, made even stranger when Nero returned from his break to see you staring at your hands in awe. "What did I miss?"

"Your girl gave me a hug. Vergil got a metaphorical one." He reclaimed his seat and began chatting to the twins as you drifted through your own thoughts, floating into your wildest imagination and finding no justification to what this day ended up being; you had cake and coffee just as Nero has promised; you made two new, amazing friends who shared the best possible common trait. You managed within yourself to hold it together, not being an expressive person by any standards, but the absolute trust, devotion, and honour drifting in the cutest triangle before your very eyes made you realise how remarkable he was, opening your eyes one degree further to how much he truly meant to you – his heart, his soul, his everything, synonymous with perfection in its purest form, now more than ever.

"Babe, you okay? You're zoning out on us." His soft hands on your cheeks woke you from your daydream, those signature deep oceans ogling your every feature; you smiled broadly in answer, unable to contain the puffy redness to your cheeks. "You sure? You look like you're in another world." He placed the back of his hand to your forehead to feel for a fever.

Lars popped behind him from nowhere, emulating your grin in full comprehension. "That's the face of pure happiness, Nero. Get with the times." He addressed you directly, pointing to the area on the table in front of you. "Watch out for the shots – Vergil will hate it if everyone doesn't drink the same amount." Shots? You turned to look on the table and saw four tiny drinks at every side; three layers sat neatly on top of one another, ranging from an opaque to a deep beige with a blast of cream on the top and drops of chocolate liqueur. "You can figure that one out for yourself."

Dante had sped to the cake shelves asking for his order of cake to be taken home at his brother's permission; the grown man skipped through the door at the chance not giving Vergil the opportunity to change his mind, greeted by every staff member he'd passed on route to his third favourite place in the entire universe. Watching him added an extra beat inside your chest feeling his excitement at the prospect of more cake, which you could relate to on more than one level.

You shuffled articles in your bag to locate your wallet. "How much do I owe?"

"Owe? What do you mean?" You'd forgotten that Vergil was equally as tall as Dante, tilting your head to look him in the eye as his hands sunk slickly into the front pockets of his slacks. "You're expecting me to let you pay?"

Lars interjected, strategically positioning himself next to him. "He owns the place; he can do what he pleases."

He nodded promptly. "Like this." They all knew what was coming except for your poor soul: your jaw dropped as Lars lifted his head under the command of Vergil's finger, the twin's hand in the dip of his back as they turned to face one another in the fiercest kiss you'd ever behold, completely unexpected from the taller man; Lars moaned into his mouth as he lost the grip to his blue coat and opted to hook his fingers on the waistband of his pants as his mouth was utterly taken over by Vergil. His hands parted the black strands at the base of his neck, gripping his hair in an attempt to overwhelm his senses; Lars gave up his portion of the control, tracing his jaw with his fingertips and sighing into the magic that crumpled his brain to nothing. Vergil was in a forgiving mood, drawing his tongue back into his mouth before the employee completely lost the plot, scraping his teeth along his swollen tongue and sucking at his bottom lip. "I always get my way."

The air in your lungs was burning you from the inside out. "I! FUCKING! KNEW IT! I didn't wanna say anything in case I was wrong, but damn I'm good."

Lars was forty nine shades of pink while against Vergil's chest, the silver-haired god watching him from lidded eyes up above. "I'm truly sorry you had to see that-"

"What? NO! Don't you dare apologise." You gawked between them; it was far too adorable to ignore. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Second hottest, you remembered; upon hearing the accomplishment the person at the top of that list encircled his strong arms at your waist and pulled you into him; Nero bit at the shell of your ear for your head to fall the opposite side, providing a wider area to sink his teeth into. He ran his tongue over the bites on your skin, holding you tighter and discreetly presenting his stimulation to you, ready for you and heavy with the activities of the day while anxious to get home to unleash another dimension of pleasure he shrouded in his sleeves. "Let's give them a few seconds alone, baby." Your lungs breathed deep at your lucky break; he'd be yours on the floor if he had gone one step further. Nero moved rapidly to hold your hand and drag you to the front of the store, halting at the door that separated their section from the front of the shop. "We'll wait for you outside, Vergil. And be nice; he still has customers in the foyer."

His hands were in Lars' hair, tugging downward harshly as a very satisfied whimper left his lips. "He doesn't like it when I'm nice." Vergil's stare penetrated you in your very core, deep down where you kept the fantasies you'd never allow fresh air to touch; Nero's back was to the pair so he couldn't share your burden, the gleam of something sinister flashing in his eyes before roughly plunging his thick tongue into his victim.

It was five in the afternoon and the sun was already gone, the streetlamps giving light to the dingy sidewalks you would have walked had Dante not insisted to take you home. Under his persistence, Lars brought Vergil's car to the front of the building: making a long story short, some profanities were spewed as the Ferrari FF turned the corner with his familiar face in the driver's seat, parking in front of the four of you; he turned the engine off and tossed the keys to Dante, the twins sleekly moving to opposite sides of the car. "Climb in, you two; we don't have all day." He clamped his tongue between his teeth as he folded his chair forward.

The man in uniform came to Vergil's passenger window, leaning through to talk to the twins; you didn't bother listening with Nero's arm around you in the backseat, catching his eye and giving him a quick peck to relieve the tugging stress of his teeth. "Good luck on your job today."

He gave Lars an inviting smirk, his tongue greeting the upturned corner of his mouth. "Routine clean-up, nothing major. I won't be long."

The other man easily bent down and kissed him quickly, walking to the opposite side to greet Dante whom you realised hadn't been in the car all this time. You were sitting behind Vergil and their interaction wasn't in your line of sight; you secretly envisioned the two of them as he was with the other twin much to your own shame of being turned on the way you were when Nero nudged you by the shoulder, signalling to his window. "Wanna peek?"

The undertone to his question was enticing, warning and urging you: you crawled over his body and looked out of the window at the couple standing too close to each other, Dante's hands wrapped around the expanse of his toned back and laughing at whatever he was doing to his collarbone. You turned to Nero disbelievingly, a gaping mouth and raised eyebrows completing your convincing look and leaving you speechless that you didn't expect it yourself.

KEEP WATCHING.

He mimed to you as his hand found your concaved spine, running it over the curve of your butt and settling between your legs while you watched them attentively. You could barely make out what they were saying but being the smart student he was, Nero lunged over and made quick work with a small gap in the window for you to hear; only then did you feel him clawing through the material of your jeans, rubbing his clawed digit harshly along your engorged entrance and virtually digging into your sensitive skin – the more you reacted, the more he moved, and if you had any chance to gage the happenings outside you had to disregard the wakeup call and concentrate on the two animals within grappling distance of you.

"Will I see you later?"

"Can you handle me alone?"

"Is that a challenge?" In one flowing motion the pale hand on Dante's chest fell to the front of his pants, gripping at his fly and zipping him open to dip his hand inside the heavy fabric and feeling around; both their mouths shot open as Lars found what he was looking for – you imagined it couldn't have taken him long – as the joint of his wrist moved back and forth through the space.

Dante fell forward and spoke into his lips, holding his forearm in a vice grip for their own safety. "One hour."

The scene only made your situation worse, picturing Nero leaning half-heartedly on his fist while his other hand occupied the space between your legs, his facial expression hinting at none of what he was doing to you; you commended him on lasting this long, his intelligence in weaning both responses to stimuli almost unmatched by his need to spectate both of your insurmountable want for one another's bodies and making his message loud and clear to you. Your eyes trailed the length of your body to the anomaly sticking out amidst your thighs, glowing in agreement to your tight heat; your body inherently moved on its own accord, sharing his stare as your legs parted somewhat and receiving a sneer as reward. You were not ready to play his damn game, especially since the claw had now left you and sat comfortably at the swell of his skinnies you hadn't seen until now – you took a deep breath and shook your head, turning to the impious act on the sidewalk to distract your thoughts going down an alleyway it wasn't meant to go.

Lars smiled, retracting the invasion and zipping him up professionally. "One hour." Green maintained blue's gaze as he licked the pads of his thumb, sticking his tongue out for Dante to inspect the drop of white substance and follow it down his throat. You slowly moved back to your spot as he walked to the car, climbed into his seat and turned the ignition.

Number five. BOTH?

He shook his head. THEY WON'T LET HIM CHOOSE. ITS BOTH OR NOTHING.

You were impressed. KINKY!

The car parked in Nero's allocated spot next to yours, never used owing to you killing his dreams of keeping one. Dante jumped out and unhooked his seat to let the two of you through, trawling on the lawn in front of his apartment in full view of his front door. "He always does that." They were far more protective than you could have imagined, glancing at Vergil and watching his eyes shoot around the neighbourhood at lightning speed.

You scooted across the backseat and grabbed his outstretched hand in aid when another lightly brushed yours holding onto the cushion of the driver's seat; your head snapped in the opposite direction, visibly relaxing at Vergil's touch as he gently grazed the skin on the back of your hand with his thumb and finally giving you a smile so sweet you could hear your heart crack. Nero held onto you but gave you the level of privacy he could, sticking his head over the roof of the car and making obscene gestures to Dante. "Take care of him, will you?"

You had managed to get through the entire day without getting emotional but no, stoic papa bear had to hit you out of nowhere in your feels, acknowledging the weightiness of the request yet also ensuring he was leaving Nero in the right hands; he really did mean a lot to them – you knew that now – and you wouldn't dare let anyone down when it came to being the best version of yourself for him and him alone. "I will, Vergil. I promise you that."

"Good." He ran the tips of his fingers on your open palm leaving hot tingles on the cold flesh and making you giddy; how was he doing this with such a small fucking touch? "Now get out of my car; he's been waiting to rip your clothes off since we got to the shop."

You clutched Nero's hand tightly for him to help you out of the car. "Thank you for today."

There was a sombre look to his iced gaze, austere melancholy glazing his features as he turned to watch his brother on the grass next to him. "Don't mention it."

You heaved your frame from the car and Dante's head snapped up, meeting you halfway on your route to give him a proper goodbye wearing a happier aura than his brother; he didn't have much to say other than giving you the more decent and civilised version of the one you attempted back at the store, not knowing any other way to do it other than you pick you up and have your legs flail far from the floor as you snuggled to his size comfortably. "She's too short to do this normally."

Never had you seen a wider smile on Nero, standing clear of any limb that may accidently hit him. "You can't help that you're huge."

You both stopped dead in your tracks and looked at him, only then realising what he'd just said. "Say it like you mean it, Nero."

He scratched the back of his head. "God, put her down already; you can't raise the bar on your first day, Dante." He eventually gave in, setting you down gently and giving you a firm handshake. You laughed at the weirdness of it all, bestowing the best curtsey to him in gratitude; he smiled with his entire body and it was refreshing, putting your mind at ease knowing that some of his contagious humour was deep inside Nero's frame ready to burst free at random.

You walked toward your door without thinking. "Where are you going?"

Nero called from behind you, the answer obvious enough. "Home. To freshen up."

"You can do everything at my place." He reached your side and dragged you the other way.

"But-"

"Must I translate?" He cleared his throat as if he had prepared this very speech for this very moment. "I can start with the birds and the bees talk if you so wish."

This would be interesting – the perspective of sex from a living sex god. Why would anyone say no to that? "Dante, with all due respect-" of course Nero would, reputation and all, "-she knows what's going to happen to her behind that door." He asserted dominance by standing behind you and getting your heart racing with a meagre touch around your shoulder blade and navigating upward to the back of your neck; his ultimate weakness on your body because it gave you away in an instant. "Your elaborate speech might give away the moves I haven't used yet."

You took a step back hoping the bend in his arm wouldn't handle the angle and leaned into him until his face was next to yours. For your own personal satisfaction you kept your eyes on the man a few feet away, his myriad of facial expressions sending you deeper and deeper into the void you needed to be in for the rest of the night. "You have more?"

"Baby, you don't know the half of it." A delicate squeeze to your neck was all Dante could endure after his prior activities, lifting his hands up in surrender and walking to the driver's side of the car audibly grinning at the show you put on for him. "Let's go inside," he said and you led the way, peeling the damned hand from behind you and laced your fingers between his, taking the first steps up his porch; you had learned a lot today, possibly too much, that all you genuinely wanted was a decent night's sleep to process the two beings you had just met. True, there would never be enough time in one afternoon to cover every angle, but did you really need to? It was evident that the love they harboured for him was almost on par with yours, and that was sufficient – that was all there was to it, knowing that he had two world class role models in his life to mould into. It was a blessing in disguise, a chance happening suiting and lasting them for the rest of their days. "See you soon, Vergil."

You were about to step inside when the twin shouted out. "Take care of her, okay? She's all we have."

Nero stood on the threshold and replied. "If I don't, will you beat me up?"

"I'd kill you if I needed to."

Their relationship would bother you until you ceased to exist; Nero turned and observed your body from a distance. "He isn't serious, is he?"

He gave you a shrug. Of course he was.