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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 30: Faltering Doubt
Nero, for the life of him, couldn't figure out how he got into the truck. After trudging up the stairs with heavy feet, everything in his mind blanked out. The lingering touches and the fervent kisses plagued his thoughts, body shaking at the heated memories wrapping around his head like a blanket.
He guessed his brain switched to 'auto pilot' because his cognitive functions failed to recall how he planted himself in the passenger seat. Got dressed and ready in his entirety, but floundered in recalling his actions.
Ceruleans glued themselves to looking outside the window driving downtown. Dante had turned on the radio, alleviating some of the tension in the ride.
On the note, Ramona wanted an “outsider” to transport boxes of jewels to an abandoned warehouse. Embezzlement from a partnering company threatened to destroy them, financially, and she needed a maverick to make the delivery to a distant, unspecified location.
What a crock of shit.
Anyone with a brain knows this sting had the word 'setup' written all over it. If the worst she kept in her arsenal were those humanoid monsters to spring a trap on them upon their arrival then fine; they weren't so tough since he gained an extra asset in his right arm to kill them.
Speaking of tough, why couldn't he find the voice to say what stole his thoughts?
It would be foolish to deny that Dante had stirred something within him. A silent, unknown hunger awakened with each caressing kiss, each gentle nibble, each breath-taking bite. He found it difficult to describe the sensation because of its unfamiliarity, but it felt akin to a fire ignited in his soul... and in his groin.
His human conscious drove him to think about the ending result. Let's say he indulged in his wanting lust and rocked the boat with Dante. After his horny nature dissipated, will the weight of his choices leave him with regret, wishing he'd follow his instincts and go back to Fortuna? Should he... leave the situation be and treat it like a one-time event? What about Kyrie still? How can he even look at her again knowing what he did? Plus, with Dante being the self-proclaimed 'Big Daddy', would he view Nero as a conquest?
Feeling less confident about the possible outcomes he straightened in his seat, inhaling the truck's new-leather smell, absently focused on the heavy rock music streaming through the speakers.
Against his will, his mind flitted back to the day he witnessed Dante and his Casanova role at play, blinking several times to understand what he saw.
When first introduced to the concept, by gawking at Dante leading a busty brunette to his room, he withheld his surprise. The elder didn't mention he had a girlfriend visiting, however since it wasn't Nero's house he didn't bother to ask. Four hours later after sharp grunts and drawn-out yelps, the same woman trotted downstairs, looking like she fought a bear... and lost.
Lush auburn tresses fashioned in careful curls had morphed into poofy and thick tendrils. A red tube skirt shone inside out, the white tag revealed for all to see. Her gray bralette bandeau hung by a lone strap on her shoulder. Medium-olive legs kissed by the sun couldn't grasp the balance of walking, wobbling without grace every few steps.
Nero internally patted himself on the back from scrunching his features when her fern-green eyes connected with his; black smudges of raccoon eyeliner and smeared, coral-hued lipstick shot him a coy look. In his mind, her man satisfied her and she moved to convey her happiness. Good for her, but he didn't care to know the details; it sounded synonymous to a war being fought behind Dante's door. What stupefied the youngster gave way to her beat-up appearance. Why didn't she fix herself up first?
A creaky door opened and out came a sweaty, shirtless hybrid, coral lip prints blotted his neck and chest, rubbing the offending color off of him. Long black sweatpants hung low on his hips, showing off the strong, pronounced 'V' shape. Trimmed, toned abs shamelessly showed on display while Nero kept his eyes on Dante's features. He didn't want to be caught staring at anything special on his body, so focusing on his face proved best.
"Why is your girl looking like she got in a fight with a bear?"
“That's because this bear gave her one she'll never forget.” Dante ran a glove-less hand through his damp hair, trying to finger his locks back to its usual style after the sex kitten nearly yanked his roots out. After he rocked her senseless, a much-needed nap might restore him to serenity. He neared becoming complete with his bed when Nero's question played through his mind. "Hey kid, what do you mean by my girl?"
"… Isn't she your girlfriend?"
"Uh... no?"
"Then who is she?"
"Ah, just a horny little dame."
From that day forward, Nero bared witness to the various women strolling in and stumbling back out of the office. Each one more different from the other, yet they came out the same way every time; make-up smeared over, clothes half-off, legs all wobbly and slinked out into the world alone. Dante escorted a few girls to the exit; a rarity in itself to see.
Moreover, these "horny little dames" turned out to be nothing more than sexy distractions to keep the idiot from going haywire after a lackluster job. How many of these females let themselves be handled like that escaped his knowledge, but they all seemed to work at that stripper joint he loved to frequent. If so, it explained a lot about Dante's view on relationships.
The elder could have anyone he wants whenever he wants to. Nero assumed it made no difference to the man if he opened his legs to him or not. He wasn't the type to wrap himself into emotional attachments, judging by the different one-night stands that visited him.
The question remained of what he wanted to do with the hybrid. Dante had already shown heavy interest in the idea, and if Nero's memory served him correctly, the hybrid came back for seconds. Should he go on through with his raging hormones and see what happens or should he stop it here? How would this affect their relationship if the outcome proved detrimental to their friendship? The veteran could, at any time, resume his trysts with the supple curves of the female flesh.
All though it begged the question of why Dante stopped bringing them over. They hadn't talked to each other about anything significant concerning who could do what in the house, and Nero reserved no qualms about Dante's sexcapades because it didn't concern him.
Now... he didn't know what to do or think. He craved for an explosive release that's been pushing to unleash itself by letting go; of his anxiousness, of his worries, of this fucking hampering stress sitting on him because of that nagging demonic voice in his head.
The chieftain possessed the skills to challenge him in ways he had no choice but adapt to; to learn and grow in strength to push himself to exceed his limits. The choices left to him called to see which route he would take: through fists or fucking.
A slow and quiet exhale escaped his lips, seeing the vast array of colorful, expensive-styled buildings and different people going about their day. He wondered how many of them had a dilemma like his, weighing the trivialities of their decisions in discovering what they needed―or was it wanted―in their lives. If they needed to betray their sentiments or another person to see what brought the most out of them in life.
Perhaps it was nothing more than his hexed side itching for a good fight, he thought with a heavy sigh. That's how this whole angsty thing began anyway. More often than not he suppressed his damned side from lashing out without control. The lower-ranking demonic fodder left him starved when Yamato cleaved them into pieces, pushing him for a stronger opponent to expel this pent-up energy.
Dante repeatedly refused to unleash his devil trigger in battle, leaving Nero to crave the hidden power the elder possessed; to imagine the force and strength behind his punches and kicks. He'd much rather find out the potency of the veteran's skills through their spars than through sex.
“You're distracted.”
The teen's body lightly started at Dante's voice, keeping his eyes out the window, maintaining his leveled thought of focus.
“What makes you say that?”
“The only time you're quiet is when you're alone or eating. Neither case applies to you right now so... a penny for your thoughts?”
“That'd be a lot of pennies then,” he mumbled into his hand holding his face up, propped by an elbow on the window's ledge. A slew of questions sat on his tongue, ready to tumble out of his mouth on their own accord. He figured starting off easy proved best before slithering into loaded territory. “Why don't you ever fight me with your devil trigger?”
“'Cause I don't need to.”
“Is that your final answer?” Nero muttered, hand still pressed against his lips.
“Pretty much.”
Here we go.
Nero closed his eyes with a slow blink, seeking a leveled mood to keep Dante from getting under his skin with his vague answers. “Why though?”
“There is no why, Nero. I just don't need to.”
Dante only called him by his name when showing lax concern toward his well-being or if his annoyance spiked with Nero's actions.
How interesting. He didn't think a discussion on the elder's demon form would make him evasive of his responses. Did he unknowingly dig up a dark moment Dante remembered of his devilish model? He recalled the chieftain saying his infernal heritage had a troublesome time returning to its cage, wanting to rip and shred without jurisdiction. Which garnered disbelief because Dante is the experienced intellect involving damned issues. Why is it difficult for the veteran to control his hellish nature, and the seen sent his away with a wordless command?
“You used it on your scorpion-girlfriend though.” Nero drawled, focusing on a father giving his daughter a ride on his shoulder after they stopped at a red light. “Did you need to use it then?”
“Well if someone wasn't about to get their neck severed-”
The teen's eyes blinked rapidly. “Because someone wanted to flirt with some crazy broad-”
“Because someone felt the need to rush into battle-”
“Because someone thinks they know everything-”
“Because someone has a hard head and doesn't listen to anything you tell him-”
“Because someone is always playing games so they don't bother listening.”
His voice tightened with every word spoken, keeping the exasperated huff threatening to spill from his chest inside his mouth.
“And we've reached the foundation of your troubles,” Dante said, a ghost of a smile quirked his lips.
The light turned green. Dante eased forward to merge with the rush of traffic, humming to the tune of 'Cochise' oozing through the speakers. He kept his sights on the road, continually checking the side mirrors for a flashy sports car trailing a few cars behind them. It followed them after they left his immediate neighborhood, following his every movement with the truck. So, he guessed he could humor the punk before initiating evasive maneuvers.
“And what troubles do you think I have?” Nero's heart thudded a little faster, his left leg tapping the floor, anticipation gaining in strength.
“If I were to take a guess, you've spent the last fifteen minutes stewing in your feelings on that kiss and whether you wanna fuck me.”
It made sense. Embracing what the teen said about his dreams, coupled with Nero's demonic voice pining for release and his potent pheromones told him of his ordeal. Hell, almost everything he's done has slowly built up to the way he's feeling now. The hybrid knew the punk wanted to ask him about his relationship views, had seen it on his face whenever the brat glimpsed him with someone yet he kept to himself.
“And then thinking I'm gonna treat you like a trophy and go back to what I've been doing.” He assumed the youth would adopt his 'gigolo' persona and use it as a precursor towards his decision.
“Is that it? You think that's the gist of your troubles?” Dante guessed he voiced aloud Nero's thoughts, hearing the brat's heart rate increase under his seemingly calm exterior, nerves riling on edge further by his thumping foot. In his peripheral vision he saw Nero's jaw twitch, trying in vain to keep his sentiments in check.
“Wrong,” Nero started, taking a moment to breathe to steady himself. “Like I told you already, I can't beat you to a bloody pulp the way I want, so all this energy is sitting inside me with no real release. So whatever bullshit this voice inside my head is screaming, it's tired of me holding all this shit in. I guess it found a way for me to let go and it keeps telling me to take its advice.”
Shitty little liar. “Ah,” Dante said, unable to hide his upward-stretching lips.
“Ah what?” Nero questioned.
“Ah.”
“Ah what, Dante?”
“So that's all that's bothering you? A hard fight is all it takes to stop you from going stir-crazy then, huh?”
“That's it,” Nero gestured with his hand, soon letting it drop on his thigh with a loud smack.
“As much as you want to deny it, that's not what your dick said earlier.”
Nero's tongue floated in mid-air, unable to speak.
“Your pheromones are a dead giveaway; you don't have to tell me shit.”
Nero couldn't move, every muscle locked into place after the red one's blunt statement bombarded his mind with their hot and heavy touches. His groin tingled, jean-clad legs threatening to close to ward off the sensation but he remained still, eyes focusing harder out the window.
“Ah, there it is.” Dante crooned, voice soft and smooth, tilting his nose in the air. His chest expanded to its full capacity, inhaling the light, hypnotic scent Nero unknowingly emitted. He didn't know if the brat smelled his own arousal, but if a lascivious word got his pheromones jumping, then he hoped Nero didn't mind his cock getting hard often.
“Tongue-tied?” Narrowed periwinkles glanced over to the youth, making out the barest trace of a soft rose caressing his cheeks, knowing he put a dent in whatever argument he thought to speak aloud.
In his central mirror he saw the flashy black car behind a beat-up truck, thinking it time to lose him. “Well, we can have a little chat later about you wanting me to jump your bones-”
“No, I d-”
“-but first we gotta get rid of this tailgater.”
Dante pressed hard on the gas, the unexpected acceleration pushing Nero back into the seat. He narrowly avoided t-boning a sedan, eyes focused on the rear-view mirror, waiting on that sleek sports car to follow him.
“One of your crazy flings?” Nero said, squinting into the passenger mirror after his shock waned to watch an expensive-looking black car swerve around others to pursue them.
Dante looked over at him, surprised. “Oh, so you weren't over there just moping away. You actually paid attention, for once.”
“You're the one that acts as if everything is peachy all the time.” Nero held the handle when Dante made a sharp right turn, horns honking because he barely escaped a collision.
“Everything isn't peachy, but it's much easier to deal with when you don't bullshit around. You let shit eat you from the inside out and you act weird. Case in point...”
“Don't you even come my way with that! You're the one always holding shit inside and never saying what's on your mind.”
“If I need to say something, then I'll say it.” Dante scanned ahead, squinting his eyes to see past normal human range. About 1000 feet in front of him the cars piled up to a halt, the train lights flashing red to signal everyone to stop.
With the black 2012 Pagani Huayra hot on his trail he could take this thing for a true test drive, seeing what power this beastly truck held now that he didn't have to transport weighty objects.
Besides Nero that is, what with his heavy ruminations weighing him down.
“Don't fly out the window!”
Nero's head almost collided with the windshield, pressing himself against the seat as the hybrid swerved into the oncoming lane, cars veering to the side and blaring on their horns. The sports car copied Dante's action, rolling down their window with a machine gun in tow.
Strong fingers touched the base of his skull before it jerked downwards, bullets shattering the back window after the idiot behind them opened fire, shooting his headrest.
For the moment, their discussion of 'who's the bigger liar' went on a break, focusing on the assailants who disregarded the innocent humans around them.
All though he would have tilted his head to avoid the bullets on his own, he urged himself to issue his gratitude.
“Thanks for the heads up.”
Dante swerved into the correct lane again, eyes rapidly switching back and forth, searching for a route with the least volume of people. “No problem. Can't let you take any more hits to the head, not if I can help it.”
Here we go again.
“Last time I checked, my brain worked just fine,” Nero gritted out, obvious to dislike the veteran bringing up his small mishaps. More gunfire pierced the vehicle, citizens crying out in fear as the bullets startled them from their peaceful day.
“Yeah, but you can't think right for a while, it messes―dammit!”
Hard hands steadied the steering wheel, gripping it tight from colliding into other cars. The two back tires had ceased their function, the rubber flapping loose and wild, shaking the truck with violent tremors.
A sharp turn later and they sped down a backstreet, Dante pressing hard on the gas, refusing to let up to give the assailants an opening to strike. Dante blared on the horn, humans in soiled and tattered clothing scrambling out of the way as their frail livelihoods stood the chance to meet certain death.
“You were saying?” Nero jibed, ducking down in his seat after more gunfire pelted the headrest. The truck, rendered half-useless because of the tires, pushed its momentum to the front wheels, losing its traction to veer towards the right into a brick wall. High-pitched scraping pierced his ears, seeing the side mirror break off with the damage.
The rubber from the rear tires finally gave way, jerking the truck's bed downwards to drag and scrape the asphalt, sparks flying onto the trailing car, doing little to stop their pursuit.
The wheels' alignment gave way, forcing the vehicle to smash into the side wall again, Nero sinking down and towards his left to avoid the wall and the passing bullets... closer to Dante's right thigh.
Realizing his error, ceruleans looked up to see iceberg blues staring at him; eyes leaving the road to focus on what he did.
“Need to have your head in my lap again?”
“Would you focus in the road!” Heat crawled to his cheeks, mind driving back to the chieftain forcing his head in place in that mansion. “I don't want to be sardined in here!”
“Well, that might be a challenge if you keep scooting over here like you are. You sure-”
“If you don't get us out of here Dante, I swear I'll rip that steering wheel off and beat you with it!”
Dante pulled the vehicle to the right with a hard skid, blocking the alley so no other cars can pass. Faster than he could react to the sudden stoppage, Nero lost a sense of self after a firm hand grabbed his shirt and tugged, landing on his knees outside the truck on Dante's side; car oil and the stench of wet garbage assaulting his nostrils. Dante moved in a blur pulling both their swords from the pickup's bed, then yanking him from the ground.
“What are you-HEY!”
The red hunter hoisted Nero onto his shoulder, giving no time to adjust his posture before he sprinted in a swift speed, Nero unable to distinguish what object was what with his inhumanly fast motion. The enemies fired at them again, the veteran moving left or right to avoid taking a hit. He watched Dante pump his legs from his upside-down position, wanting to knee the bastard in his chest but thought against it, unfamiliar where he intended on going; the elder knowing the area better than he did.
“Agh-oh!”
Nero's insides threatened to bunch up inside his throat, his stomach seeming to float around without restriction. Dante jumped onto a nearby fire escape, then another... and another still until they landed on top of an apartment building.
Angered voices shouted below them, shuffling feet moving in frantic steps to follow where they had escaped to. The elder cared less to stay and see why they fired at them, believing their ringleader can explain her actions better than they could.
Dante double-backed to where the fiends stopped their car, standing over the ridge glancing down at the sleek beauty. Without warning the teen he jumped off the ledge from its fourth story, feeling Nero's tense body curl into him after gravity did its magic, hands wrapping around his waist to lessen the free-fall impression.
A short but powerful spike in energy jolted through Nero, sensing a harder-than-rock shoulder supporting his pelvis. His blurred vision picked up a giant, scaly red wing flapping hard before Dante swiftly touched solid ground, Nero noticing the brief crackle of internal power dissolve along with the wing. Equilibrium hadn't caught up to his potato-sack position, pale lids staying closed to steady the dizzying motions beginning to swirl in his head.
Until Dante landed a heavy slap to his behind, jolting him to delirious consciousness.
Brown boots touched the gravelly cement, legs unable to stand firm after the adrenaline swimming in his stomach and the surprise smack on his ass. His organs gave the feeling to return to its original location when the veteran stood him upright. The concept of moving had left him, the chieftain having to push him into the passenger seat of the exotic black car, then closing the door that opened like butterfly wings because his hands refused to work. Sliding over the hood Dante eased into the driving seat, placing their weapons horizontally across each other's lap because the damn thing had no back seat.
Thick fingers used the handles to adjust the seat to his tall frame, glimpsing over the futuristic-looking controls. He saw no section for the key, assuming the crooks took it with them and they'll have to run on foot. A small, car-shaped crest rested a little underneath the radio, seeming out of place and fitting all the same. Giving in to his curiosity he messed with the weird contraption, hands turning it to the right to jump at the sound of a gracious roar.
Adrenaline rushed all the way to his bones, a wicked grin caressing his cheeks, happier than a dog with his favorite chew toy. Dante revved up the engine once then threw the gears into reverse. Swift fingers reached over to push Nero back into his seat, his head almost colliding with the dashboard.
“You say your brain works just fine, but can you think quick on your feet like that?” Dante said, a dangerous gleam sparkling in his eyes over the new toy he acquired.
The two men returned to watch their car speeding out of the alley in reverse, unable to move around the totaled pickup in time to fire at them; Dante sticking a middle finger high out the window. The duo reached the mouth of the backstreet, Dante beau-guarding the lanes until he faced in the right direction, ignoring all the blaring horns and angered curses hurled his way.
Periwinkles scanned the main street, seeing no cars piled on top of each other or no dead humans on the ground. The smart tactic paid off to keep the fiends' target sight on him, leading them into a narrow vicinity where he had the highest chance to escape... using the enemy's own transportation.
Letting the allure of the luxury car take the reins of his judgment, he maneuvered with speed around the slow-moving automobiles with ease, allowing the motor to purr in a gentle roar over its easy handling. At times, he imagined to have ridden on air, whooping and shouting in glee because he experienced how amazing it is to (temporarily) own an exotic vehicle.
Driving well above the speed limit while disregarding the majority of traffic laws, white-blue eyes slid over to his oddly silent counterpart, seeing a tense and obviously-stressed Nero appearing stricken.
“You still with me over there?”
The youth had a hunch to forgo future visits to amusement parks if they could leave him like this. Sure he didn't mind heights and tall places, but not when his limbs are restricted, unable to move as he pleased. His internal organs seemed detached, moving at a slow pace to recollect themselves; his intestines giving the sensation to cling to the inside of his throat and one of his lungs resting in his groin. Crossed ankles tried to calm the adrenaline rushing through his legs, but the action did little to help.
Add that on top of Dante “borrowing” this car with the recent shenanigans coupled with the vigilant cameras; he should read his body language and develop the answer then.
So no. No, he wasn't feeling like himself right now.
A gloved hand picked up fingers bedecked with a few rings to show comfort but it slid out of his grasp, moving to tuck itself behind a folded arm instead.
Dante peeked at the sullen-looking youth, bearing no offense towards the gesture, thinking the punk needed a minute to calm down from all the action. If he wanted to stay out here, then the kid better get used to dealing with diabolical incidents of this caliber. More often than not he noticed the increase in hellish affairs involving humans, intentional or not, and he had to weed through the troublemakers to ensure he stopped their intentions.
And if that dweeb still lurked on them rubbing on each other...
A/N: Aw Nero, you gotta realize that Dante is a good-natured guy once you peel back all those layers to his aloof personality, and that he won't hesitate to turn the tables on you if need be. XD!
I wanted to give Dante a Koenigsegg Agera R to drive but I don't think that car has the option to drive in reverse so...he got another equally stylish car. And I warned you guys that some of the goodies he got would meet destruction!
And if you guys read the updated story summary, I am blatantly ignoring the Vergil/Nero canon because it's cliché (character that 's focused on themselves randomly has a child? Plus, where did Jake Muller come from if Wesker is carrying a Virus? Wouldn't his sperm juice kill/turn the momma into a zombie?) and it's disappointing. With all the magic and lore present in the DMC series, Capcom couldn't come up with something more original for Nero? The canon's going to always be there folks, I'm just turning my nose up at it.. :/
P.S. Since Capcom's doing all these damn remakes, can we get a remake for DMC2? I really miss Lucia.
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These