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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
- 3
- 4
- 5
On a side note, their inner devils/consciousness/ will be talking in italics. Any thoughts that they have (little voice in their head) will be in quotes, followed by the words 'he thought' or 'he said to himself'...
Chapter 4: Too Hot For Comfort
If silence hung in the air before, then what would describe it now? Nothing could foreshadow the blunt anger bursting from the hunters. Their brief and unexpected reactions broiled over to flared tempers. Dante thought the brat would take his advice with more seriousness. Even if something did happen to him, Nero should be compelled to retain control.
This had worried him.
One, the pansy yelling made Dante question the kid's reflexes. The brash youngster seldom outlived jump scares; the chieftain's sudden disappearance shouldn't have riled up those emotions within the kid at once.
Two, the brat expressed himself as an emotional individual. Every menial altercation caused him to wear his sentiments, the hormonal ones, on his sleeve. A dog nipped him; he's in a foul mood. Scarecrows jumped him; he's sulk around the office for hours. Showed up by the veteran; he'd bitch about it. The taunting teases after Nero's flubs didn't help lull Nero's agitation.
The jokes were meant to be taken lightly, to calm the youth and to get him to loosen up. It was rare that it worked. The elder found himself strewn across the room as Nero's rag doll when he irked the teen's nerves. He enjoyed getting a kick in seeing Nero flustered over a small slip-up, the friendly sparring sessions they indulged in confirmed that.
He smirked at the memories in secret.
Oh, damn it all to hell! A pitted feeling in his gut told him to turn around and tell the punk to forget about what happened. It's no use staying mad at each other forever because they could never do it. No matter how unique or strange their senseless banter was it drove them to make up without a direct apology sometimes. Yet his body ignored his mind's request. His memory reeled over Nero's selective term, the ferocity with which he spread the insult disconcerted him greatly.
Nobody ever dared to attack him in such a fashion and if they did they regretted it, as was the case with Nero. The teenager wore his confidence in every sense of the term; from his walk to his fighting to his style in clothing to his choice in weaponry. Now, in bereft of said bravado stood a kid with a bowed head in vulnerability.
Dante snuck a quick glance over his right shoulder to see Nero walking like a mindless drone void of emotion, wallowing in a state of shock. His wide eyes looked at everything and nothing, trudging along in stiff movements. If Dante summed up Nero's stance in one word, it would be paranoid… but cute. Okay two words… cutely paranoid.
Perfect example of how pissed they can be at each other and words like that pop up and all would be forgiven.
A chuckle vowed to escape his lungs but he prevented himself to do it. Nero struck a nerve, and it struck deep. No man likes his manhood threatened. He had seen and dealt with shit that could make Nero's ears bleed confessing the half of it.
The horrible stint Sanctus pulled was no surprise to Dante. Demons obsessed over obtaining his father's powers as their own. And who do you think stopped these faux perpetrators, some of them posing as his father in the process? Neutralizing problems of that calibur can drive the average person crazy.
The kid needs to learn the phrase 'respect thy elders'.
Damn… Dante wanted to turn around and really give Nero a piece of his mind, to grab him by his jacket collar and shake some sense into him; maybe giving a few good punches to the face. Certain things were taunt-worthy and others weren't.
Personally Dante desired to lived in the class of the things that shouldn't be taunted. On specific occasions, as the likes of now, he had to show the tauntee what carried on as acceptable to say and what wasn't. Yet the more he pondered it, the angrier he grew. Perhaps the reason of Nero being a close ally to him rattled his calm demeanor upon saying that word, almost in essence of being betrayed by a loved one.
The distance to the job nearly came to an end and they should speed up their walking to get there sooner. As the plan was about to follow through, his pace slowed down.
The partial-demon noticed Dante's decreased footfalls. And as a response, Nero lagged his velocity too. He didn't want to confront any emotions, thoughts, phrases, space… nothing from Dante. His eyes showcased a hollow coldness he would do anything to never see again.
Dante slowed down even more. Nero slowed down even more.
Dante completely stopped. Nero completely stopped.
The teen stood a good twenty feet away from him. The red man's posture was tense and his head twitched, as if he talked to himself or trembled with of negative emotion. Nero looked down at his right hand to see a dim glow, telling him they weren't very close to any rogues. So why did the 'supervisor' stop? Nero lightly sniffed the air for any sulfuric scent lurking about, but he didn't smell anything amiss save for the veteran.
Time passed as neither hunter moved. Nero wanted to distance himself from Dante, wishing the whole thing didn't even happen. "Stupid old man and his damn tricks," he thought. The aspect of muttering aloud something like that, knowing Dante's disposition, sent chills crawling down his back despite the warm weather.
Summoning courage out of nowhere he took laggard steps and shuffled his way forward, ever careful in trying to read Dante's overall presence. When he reached the half-demon, he saw a bleak face with a slight scowl marred between his eyebrows.
Nero geared to question why Dante stopped, however his legs had a mind of their own to pass him. As soon as Nero gained his fifth step, Dante's feet connected with the ground after the youth went by him.
The partial-demon turned his head around and looked behind him, hastening his pace. Dante, in turn, picked up his strides also. The teenager sped up his rate while meekly spying over his left shoulder. If this provided Dante's way of telling him to keep up, then Nero got the message loud and clear. If this was Dante's way of saying a different, silent meaning then that hint wasn't so easy to decipher. The youngster didn't know whether Dante continued to play one of his inept jokes or if he made him feel lower than dirt.
Looking straight ahead might have told him why the 'supervisor' halted his footsteps to begin with. The woman's house came into view now, so Nero slowed his tempo down assessing his vicinity. His right arm glowed a brighter hue closing in on the fiends. Okay then, it seems that Dante still wasn't talking to him.
For the second time, another set of foot steps vanished from Nero's hearing… again.
Moreover he exhibited traits of a quick learner, since no more wrong could be done due to the veteran's temper. He erected his posture and unholstered Blue Rose, assuming a defensive stance in the making. When he turned around, Dante was nowhere to be found. The youth however, knew that the joking atmosphere dissipated considering how close they were to their destination, hopefully.
With determined nerves he walked along the path, avoiding the elder hunter while broadening his senses. His backside ignited in a strange flare, wondering where the sudden heat had come from if the sun beamed in his face. Ignoring the rising temperature no longer he stopped in his tracks and half-turned towards the large trees. The teen saw Dante leaning against a thick trunk, leering at him with crossed arms. Blue orbs flickered an ominous cool within them, penetrating into Nero's baby blues.
"Did that bastard light my back on fire by staring at it?" Nero unholstered Red Queen to make sure no gasoline spilled on him, sheathing her when all was well.
Both slayers stared at each other without blinking, waiting for the other to make a move. The man in red beheld the same blank expression, Nero's eyebrow lightly raising over the hybrid's demeanor. For someone who is associated to taunt and jest 24/7, they could sure turn into the coldest bastard the world has ever known.
…No. No, that wasn't fair. That 'cold bastard' welcomed him with open arms, giving him daily essentials and an odd form of entertainment―which he wasn't privy to in Fortuna. He allowed him to add little fix-ups and equipment into his home, though it wasn't guaranteed to withstand Dante's violent nature.
The younger demon broke eye contact with the veteran, facing towards their current destination. He fought the urge to keep his pride from lashing out to conflict with Dante's annoyed disposition.
When he looked up again, the hybrid disappeared from his former place, catching a flash of red shifting through the forest. "If he wants to stay in the trees so badly, then why don't he build himself a nest?" Nero mumbled under his breath, making his travel into the dense shrubbery.
Maybe I could be one of his chicks.
As the days passed by with him living at the office, another being came to bunk up by his side, in the form of an inner voice that proved to be more of a hindrance than of help. "What the hell is wrong with you, demon?"
"Questioning what I'm doing now?"
Nero froze, hearing that creepy, smooth speech sheltered among the greenery. Did he say that out loud? Shit, he did. The youth couldn't lay eyes on him but he knew that Dante shot daggers into him with his supposed burning sight. He did not need to piss off Dante any more than what was necessary.
"I-I'm just... forget it."
"Think something is wrong with me?"
Damn it, where is he? "No, you're not worth thinking about," he mumbled in a whisper, wishing to be at the destination instead of playing all these games. The teen involuntarily talked to his inner demon aloud, sometimes having a mind of its own. If anyone looked visually pleasing to him, or it, through Nero's vision, it made that lust known through lewd comments.
This began two weeks ago, as if the thing woke up from hibernation and started spewing random, sexual shit. And Nero, once again, blamed it on the lack of sex in his life; not from his five digits alone but from someone else who should be helping his hand out.
He strode further into the thick brush, mindful to watch for anything suspicious or Dante-like. A slight gust whirled through the green environment, like it preferred to take residence in here than out on the open dirt road. This same breeze swooped by him in a collective whirl, yet when he turned to see who or what created the noise, they were gone. The youth gazed around in caution, left fingers twitching to decide if his gun needed firing. His searching abruptly ended when he came face to face with the hybrid.
He let out a surprised gasp at the closeness, retreating several centimeters for if they stayed there his lips would have brushed up against the man's puckers. His baby blues would not tear themselves from Dante's sky blue ones. The veteran's form projected this unnatural heat in the sunny afternoon, but he wasn't complaining. Well his mind did because he felt a magnetic tug pulling him towards the red one instead of away from him, of wanting to lean against him for some reason. Dante had to be burning up in his leather garb yet he emitted this calm persona.
It maintained the truth that the hybrid was physically stronger, faster, bigger… and smarter than him, but so what? Nero rose to combat any confrontation, as he proved against his sparring sessions with the chieftain; intimidating looks didn't scare him off that easily.
He just couldn't confront the chieftain right now.
Nero's heartbeat sped when his eyes drifted on their own accord Dante's labiums, that annoying inner voice coming out to put in its two cents. Not too big, not too little. Just enough fullness to nibble on... The teenager shook his head, trying to shake his inner devil from its useless prattle.
"Speak up, Nero. We got the day to talk."
He didn't appreciate it when someone got the upper hand on him, and he had to come up with something to avoid looking an idiot to himself. "No, not really. If she's dead, then it's your fault." His voice attempted to talk at its normal tone from his soft whisper.
"And two, I'm… just say it. Thinking about kissing you… grabbing your crotch… tweaking your nipples… nip-ples," he blurted out. Smooth. Salmon-hued lips folded into themselves, a rushing vial of crimson bloating his cheeks for allowing his brain to listen to that demonic moron.
Dante quirked a silver eyebrow, knowing damn well Nero was lying big time. Focusing on nipples doesn't make you to walk around in shock... unless if they're the large pert nubs.
"Liar." Dante accused. "I can picture meaty, bouncy titties all day long. Heh, even stuffing my mouth like they're sweet strawberries." The veteran narrowed his forehead and supplied a nasty smirk. "So what's on your mind?"
Nero couldn't explain the bristled emotion floating through him. Was it discomfort? No, no that's not it. Awkwardness? No, not quite. Jealousy? Yes. Hell no! He voted on his uneasiness because the elder shouldn't view women as fun bags to suckle on. Women are so much more than shapely sex artifacts for mans' viewing.
Except for the ones at Love Planet―such a seedy strip club..
These random dreams, feelings, or emotions coming forward for Dante established itself as a phase that would soon pass; still trying to find his mojo is all. Men did not excite him in any way, ever, period. He'd seen the hybrid philandered by both sexes and he secured his masculinity to admit the feature's of Dante's handsome face. Though he was pretty sure Dante played it straight and narrow.
Hmmm, maybe he needed to get out a little more. Fortuna didn't indulge in the "love" part when one prepared to fornicate. Away from the island sexual behaviors didn't fit into a bubble, Nero seeing different genders in varied, eye-raising activities.
Sexually frustrated devils are the worst to deal with, stooping so low as to fuck anything that moved... or that's what the veteran loosely mentioned. Perhaps his inner devil tried to send him a memo. If the intention pointed to Dante, why did it try to point towards him? Did it occur because he spent time in his presence more often than not or was there a veiled message hidden underneath its outbursts?
The teenager shook his head once and held up his bringer, showing the hybrid they weren't too far off from the demons however Dante made no move to look at it. Nero reversed his eyes from his right limb to Dante, telling him to notice his hand without verbally saying so. The half-demon gave the arm a quick once over before returning to lock gazes.
Beads of sweat threatened to fall down the side of his face, not because of the weather but because of Dante's proximity. He would rather go three rounds with Berial than to be under the half-demon's scrutiny; that kind of steam he could endure.
At least, Nero assumed, he wasn't suffocating from the elder's fury anymore. Geez, this guy had unpredictable, quick-tripping emotions.
As if reading his mind, Dante backed from him and restarted his scenic route through the thick foliage. An impetuous chill crashed upon the youngster, frosting over the warmth that the chief took with him. It felt like someone ripped the blanket off him on a cold, winter morning.
The teenager let out a breath he wasn't aware of holding, dreading to share any breathing space with him. And he briefly thought the halfling would bite him on the mouth for back-talking to him, they were so damn close to each other.
The faint smell of strawberries and worn leather mingled by his nostrils before dissipating into the late afternoon wind, holding the breeze hostage as if he and it were a unit. How funny. A simple stare froze him from doing something as natural as breathing, not even sure why he stopped doing so to begin with.
After a few shaky breaths to still his nerves, he followed in the trail of the half-hell, hoping to never be that close to the veteran again except for extreme situations. Such as if he needed assistance or he had to be carried because someone popped one in his brain.
Or at least until he's on top of me.
"Oh would you shut up!" he said, mentally scolding his inner demon.

A/N: Well, there you have it. The next chapter will be the action chapter. Nero is in such denial. It's a shame that his inner demon has to fill in for him, lol. And Dante... is just so tempting when he's being a little evil, no? Well, whaddya think Dante would smell like if you smelled him? Ha-ha. Til' next time.
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- 5
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These