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Dreams Will Be Made Of These	By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. Blah, blah, blah-no money is made off of this either.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2: Road Trip
Sunny rays exposed the environment's colors in a vivid hue, creating a languid and relaxed ambiance in the car. Nero kept quiet for most of the ride, Dante thinking to rouse him awake because he shouldn't have had to tag along.
"So, my pre-pubescent companion, what are we hunting down this time?" The elder jibed, turning onto a dusty road from the highway.
Along the outskirts of the city their destination awaited them, seeing the rolling hills of gold grass taking over the scenery. Houses, businesses and diners populated in scarce clusters the further they ventured from the metropolis. With surprised elation the vehicle didn't sputter croaking noises or catch on fire.
Nero started out of his seat with narrowed eyes but gave the little information he recalled from memory.
"Uh… she said something about some weird blue mist that keeps hovering in her backyard, and swiveling land-fish... Cutlasses if I could remember their names."
"Didn't you write it down?"
"I wasn't asleep with a tit magazine on my face. So sue me, I was sleepy."
Dante regarded his feisty neighbor, returning his eyes to the dirt road. He admired the kid's spunk in whatever the situation called for. However this journey had him thinking that one of them, or both, would end up injured afterwards.
Soul Eaters are sneaky little bastards, catching you off guard without a moment's notice. When backsides face them they ensnared a poor soul with those rope-like tentacles to feed off of one's life force.
As for the Cutlasses, that prevailed to be a different thing. Their stamina is high and they aren't slow in the matter. Nero once talked about their easy destruction a time or two, but Dante's participation with them had not been so… taunting. Especially when those fuckers gathered in small groups.
When he would strain, err... focus his attention on one, here comes the other to sneak in a cheap hit. After using Ebony and Ivory to daze em' a little and whipping out the sword thrust from Rebellion, then he… forgot to bring additional weapons to his arsenal.
"Oh… " Maybe he should have asked about their objective when he stood up from his desk, or randomly pick up a spare weapon. He liked a challenge now and then so bringing extra armory didn't bring the ambiance of a full dispute... except for Cutlasses.
Pandora's pure demonic energy saved time concerning those virile assholes. He ought to have taken the call in the first place, but the dream floating in his brain remained so interesting; well the part of who he dreamt about.
"Oh what?"
"Oh," replied Dante.
"Oh… what?" The teen didn't like Dante's sneaky demeanor when problems arose.
"Kid, have you ever encountered Soul Eaters before?"
Nero called to mind the imps he combated and the ones Dante told him about. The monsters he clashed with at his stay at Devil May Cry differed in variety, shape, and size. It excited him to send real demons back to their homeland. No artificial or human-turned rogues he ran over, just the actual Hell-spawn which gave him so much more to fight with.
He fought prides, blood-goyles, spear-throwing pansies (they were a pain), and acidic-based demons. But these Soul Eaters sounded promising. "No, why?"
"These lovely, long limbered legs love to suck and suck and suck and suck and suck..."
"Dante."
"…out your life force. If you're gonna get em', get em' hard and fast. It's not in your best interest to turn your back on them for more than two seconds… maybe less than that. If you choose the former, you'll probably be laid out taking a dirt nap."
Dante looked over at Nero, contemplating and processing the words spoken. The teen has never met with a demon like this and it would be dangerous. If he'd been introduced to one, or even seen what they do from experience, it would be a hell of a lot safer to do battle on his own. Watching the brat's life force drained out was the last thing he needed… unless the 'draining' acted in his favor.
His lips quirked upwards, the dream he experienced earlier coming in to soil his coherent focus. It's horrible to envision naughty images at this time, but he would at least indulge in a random, happy memory before the darkness turned in on them.
"What are you smiling about?" Nero squinted at the dubious expression on the elder's face.
"Ah nothing. Say, why don't you take care of your inbred fishy friends while I get the blue farts.” If he played his cards right he could outmaneuver the demons without taking too much damage. With Nero around, that seemed like his only option.
Nero didn't scare easy, though. The last time Dante had a plan Nero almost passed out from sharp beaks and wide wings attacking him. Damn Blood-Goyles! The chieftain had battled some reeking-like-shit demon in a big, black cloak all the while.
Making plans wasn't the elder's strong suit. If he loosely created one then that would be fine, but a full-fledged outline spelled disaster; Nero finalized the idea after the meeting.
"What? And leave all the fun to you? Forget it old man. We chop down what we lay eyes on."
"Did she say how many there were?"
"I think about six of em', when they stopped floating and disappearing. That's what she said."
Well…. that was not good news. How is she so close to them, unless she's by a window and counted their shapeless forms?
He grimaced, eyebrows scrunching in thought. That existed too high of a tally for Dante to take on himself. Back when he first combated these creatures, they appeared to him one by one. This enabled him to find a suitable tactic to dispose of them easy. Subsequent meetings made it a breeze to do away with them.
He did not want to say it, but it'll be better if Nero took on the Cutlasses and he'll take care of the rest. Damn. Dante internally kicked himself for not introducing the freaks to Nero beforehand. Some of the Hellions seemed so intent on acquainting themselves to the newcomer that they fell to the youngster's blade, never receiving the chance to say hello. Except for the Blood-Goyles; they had been a bit overzealous in their introduction.
He could spend days telling the fledgling about the different rogues and their abilities. The few books scattered in the office regarding the indigenous people of Hell and their traits the kid read, but he merely told the youngster about them.
For the last few weeks an abundance of Hell-bound fiends sprouted in numbers, not to mention the odd mixture of the gathering. The demons he fought around the time of his brother's attempted reign at evil shouldn't be mixing with the "city" folk that inhabited Fortuna.
Trish and Lady wondered of its coincidence; if it resulted in Nero living at Devil May Cry and his friends wanted to follow him, or a devil playing with his dirty bag of tricks. Needless to say the real rascals weren't too accepting of this new breed. Eventually they forgot their apparent beef with each other long enough to attack the slayers.
"Negative kid, you better deal with the catfish quickly, then we can regroup and go on."
"You think I can't handle them on my own?" The brash tone veiled Nero's question, but upon hearing the mockery out of Dante's words dissipate, he asked with caution, while still giving the barest hint of sarcasm.
Silence came from Dante's side of the car.
"You don't think I can defeat them?"
"To be honest, not really. Even if we split em' three by three, it's still too much for your first time messing with them. The Hell family I have no problem leaving to you, except the Hell Vanguard-"
"You mean that ugly fossil in that black, tattered curtain?"
He smirked in light remembrance when he forced the teenager to tag along with him to dispatch some of Hell's uglies. Blood-Goyles weren't all that hard to kill, a couple bullets stoned them and a quick slash killed them.
Nero picked up the fighting tactics in haste, but when the Hell Vanguard showed unexpectedly, he told the youngster to keep on doing what he did. Yet Nero stopped attacking the scarlet-hued birds to watch the black-cloaked demon zip-zap here and there, willing himself to become the fleshy version of demonic birdseed.
"Just handle the fish-blades."
"Whatever." He said, his young bravado returning. "You think I'm gonna beat-"
"No Nero. These little bastards don't play. Before you can even consider an attack strategy, while watching what's behind you at all times, you'll feel the need to sleep." Dante's stern voice cut through the teen's dismissive one, seeing the mind frame of his younger companion.
Despite the teen being his own man, Dante's in charge of running everything inside of his house; dead, alive, and the roommates. And that included taking care of the brat, without direct acknowledgment.
Nero saw Dante's sincerity. The red hunter knew a lot of info for most of the demons he fought thus far, and how to rid of them with minor difficulty. Most of them explained sounded like a piece of cake. Only when Dante told him of the more interesting, challenging foes did he pay attention in full.
Yet Nero remembered a few creeps Dante had trouble killing while they garnered no difficulty with him.
Nero would not let that deter him you know, pride and whatnot. Still, he would heed to his advice for now. Then he would show Dante he could hold his own in a fight, no matter how tough Hell's uglies may seem. That's what made it so engaging and daring, to explore the unknown as you go.
"Besides, you don't need to worry as much with big daddy around."
"Yeah, right." The youth rolled his eyes skyward, snorting through his nose. "And this big daddy; is this a self-proclaimed title?"
"Nope. I've got more than a few references that can attest to that. Or... do you want to find out for yourself?" Dante looked at Nero with a side view, slanting his eyelids into a languid slit.
Nero turned his head, a thin pink blush staining his cheeks. Dante's jokes had been light-hearted at first, but they became flirtatious and sensual as time went on. Nero brushed the words off as playful bantering, seeing as he seldom knew when the elder put on a show or if it's the real deal.
Everywhere they traveled hard and inviting eyes fixated on Dante, especially if women hung around. He admitted Dante had the looks, but he still had a lot of maturing to do in the mental department. It's like the half-demon posted a sign on his forehead saying 'Sex on Two Legs'. And it endured a definite truth that some sex nestled themselves between entwining legs.
When the teenager first moved in, he heard the veteran sexing some random chick a few times. Her raspy mewls became muffled throughout the sex romp, probably from Dante covering her mouth in respect to his sleeping roommate. Or maybe he shoved her head into the pillow with his masochistic tendencies.
When morning blossomed, Nero made no notion or even asked about the topic, either because Dante slept in his bed or he'd been forced to go out on an early mission. Many nights passed since those incidents, with Dante bringing in less one-night suitors.
Until Nero had an eccentric dream the fickle women had experienced with Dante.
Days came and went after the steamy collision in la-la land. But it felt real. The lingering touches, the butterfly kisses, the sensual hands roaming up and down his back, the nips cascading down his torso, that freakishly horrible stubble grazing over his chest, the rough, sleek wet muscle licking and tasting everything his lips touched, his hot breath on the inside of the younger slayer's thigh…
Nero jolted out of his sleep as the image blossomed into view, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Before that night, he never imagined Dante in that light. He saw him as a close friend, even stretching into the older 'brother' boundary.
The sensations muddied his thoughts with uncertainty. He sought after Kyrie and she wanted him. She existed to be the closest thing to a relationship due to his abnormal normalcy. And he didn't think men could interest him.
Right?
Cerulean hues looked to see a large tent set up base in his boxers, feeling much stiffer out of all the times he held an erection. Had to be those young hormones, always impeding something. Secretly, he wanted to do to Kyrie what Dante did to his suitors. Though he would be respectful of her wishes whatever she requested. His mind just didn't know how to put the correct couple in the accurate place.
With quiet steps he jumped out of bed and ventured towards his door, peering into the hallway to find Dante nowhere in sight. When silence greeted his senses he stepped out of his bedroom and tip-toed to the bathroom, wishing the creaking floor wouldn't give away his intentions. He needed to relieve himself from the impure vision he had minutes….
I was in my room
And I was just like staring at the wall thinking about everything
Then again I was thinking about nothing
And then my mom came in and I didn't even know she was there
She called my name and I didn't hear her and then she started screaming "Mike, Mike!"
And I go "What? What's the mat—"
Nero snapped away from his musings, staring with wide eyes at the loud sound. It took him a few seconds to realize the radio blasted a peculiar song stupefying him.
Dante claimed an interesting preference of rock tunes on the jukebox, heavy metal taking up most of the selection so for him to listen to music as bizarre as this was, well… normal in Dante's terms. It's just that he remembered something suddenly. Whenever the tuner turned on, the car would…
"No! Don't do this now!"
… start smoking underneath the hood.
"Weren't you the one always telling me not to turn on the radio?"
The veteran pulled over to the edge of the dirt road, putting his noggin against the steering wheel, turning off the car. He forgot that the boom box somehow became the pure source for the vehicle to bring its internal problems into the limelight. "Damn prides and their stupid cock-crap aiming," Dante muttered, rubbing the side of his temple.
Nero sat back, pressing his lips together to hold his laugh in at the elder's misfortune. Served the dumbass right for making him walk all that distance to and from the office not too long ago. Though, upon thinking on it further the same predicament applied to him.
"Hey kid, how much is the pay?"
Nero slipped his hand into Dante's lily-white locks, pulling his skull from the wheel to shove the piece of paper into Dante's mouth with his right hand. The teen intended on shutting the dummy up before he groaned and griped the day away.
Having his fingers splayed in and around his mouth brought about excessive swallowing, muddied and panicked thoughts springing to his mind's forefront. They stayed motionless, neither willing to move or speak. Nero's breathing hitched, as he felt what seemed like a wet surface, but he wasn't sure if it was the note either. Eyelids blinked twice, the half-demon rotating his head towards the youngster, his face without expression with piercing iceberg blues.
Hormonal instincts stole the reigns to his common sense, telling him to hop on Dante's lap, grinding on him in vigorous thrusts. Salmon lips twitched to replace his devil bringer where his hand lied.
Taking a risk from an impulsive decision could lead to a reactive situation, yielding destructive consequences he wouldn't be able to live down. How would his reckless spontaneity affect those around him sobering up from his whimsy actions, and why did his hormones want to be so...suggestive towards this big oaf?
Nero withdrew his digits and stared straight ahead, wondering what in the world brought that event on. He shoved the paper in Dante's mouth hoping to shut him off from any more senseless prattle, or the prevention of his further whining. His fingers staying there elided an explanation.
"Are you gonna bash my skull into the wheel, kid?" Dante looked at him out the corner of his eye, the note still inside his moist cavern.
Nero removed his left hand from Dante's head as if he touched something hot rather than from his initial embarrassment.
The chieftain took the paper out of his mouth, reading the scribbled contents it withheld. Without warning Nero, as if he was going to anyway, he grabbed his blue coat and pulled him close, kissing him multiple times on the cheek as an over-indulgent grandma would kiss her grandchildren. He let go of Nero and hopped out of the car, lifting the backseat to get Rebellion.
Misfortune turned into merriment, the elder whistling an old tune from an action flick he'd been meaning to watch again for a while. That chick in the movie with the yellow jumpsuit proved herself a badass when she had her goal set on something.
Nero sat in a stiffened posture after Dante kissed him, as if something grand happened. Well, the pay offered totaled out to be $6000, so that probably had a lot to do with it. Most of the customers paid $100 here, $500 there, some as low as $25 and high as $25,000 with Lady there to take Dante's share.
Nero didn't mind sharing his earnings with Dante, but in trying to strike a deal with the half-demon, say to give the elder money to stop saying crude jokes, it never lasted long.
He shook of his taut form, Dante having a major head start in front of the youngster. The partial-demon sensed a light crimson river wafting inside his cheeks because of the unexpected kisses, his body secretly warmed at the pecks, for some uncomfortable reason.
"Hey, wait up you speeding tortoise!" The youth yelled after him, hopping out of the Camaro and reaching to grab Red Queen, jogging up to his elder companion.

A/N: Does anyone other than me notice how their clothes seem to stay intact no matter how serious their injuries are? Like, do their clothes automatically regenerate as well? I just find that to be utterly strange... not just with the demon hunters but with other characters in games, lol.
Where in the world is Devil May Cry located? Oklahoma, New York, Europe, Nigeria...Asgard? Just wondering is all. On a side note, does anyone know the movie I'm talking about with the woman in the yellow jumpsuit; just a lil' quiz for ya'll.
And if anyone wanted to know the song to those lyrics, it's called "Institutionalized" by Suicidal Tendencies.
Til' Next Time!
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These