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Nero feels exactly three emotions when he sees Dante again after his disappearance: relief, anger, and then lust, in that order.
Relief probably would have overpowered anger if the first words out of Dante's mouth hadn't been, "Long time no see, kid."
The fucking audacity of this asshole to act so casual, like he hadn't fucked off on a job by himself without a word, like Nero hadn't had to find out from some woman he'd never met before that Dante wasn't coming back, like Nero hadn't thought he'd never see him again when weeks turned into months and months turned into years. Years of desperately waiting and hoping for it to be Dante coming back home every time the doors to the shop opened, for it to be Dante every time the phone rang. Anything at all to give Nero some kind of confirmation that Dante was still alive.
The only thing that had kept Nero sane was Trish's reassurances that Dante would be fine. He had been to the Underworld before, after all. He would come home.
She was right, because here Dante is now, alive and being a smug bastard as usual.
Nero steps out of the van, purposefully strides over to where Dante stands, and punches him in the stomach. He uses his human hand, because while he's pretty sure that Dante could handle the Devil Breaker, Nero doesn't want to actually hurt him. The only reason he doesn't punch Dante in the face is because, well... it's a good face, and Nero has missed it a great deal.
Dante actually stumbles back a few paces from the hit and wheezes out an, "Ow," before Nero yanks him into a hug.
"You idiot," Nero says wetly into Dante's shoulder, closing his eyes as they begin to burn with tears. Dante's arms come up to cradle his back, and Nero tries very hard not to cry as he clings to the older man like a lifeline, because he really thought he would never see Dante again, let alone touch him, and his embrace is exactly how Nero remembers it. Despite how much they've both grown over the time they've been apart, Nero is pleased to find that they still fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.
"Sorry," Dante murmurs against his shoulder, but Nero has already forgiven him.
He blinks the tears from his eyes and reluctantly pulls himself from Dante's arms, mindful of the fact that Lady, Trish, V, and Nico are present and watching this whole exchange. Now is unfortunately not the time to unleash his years worth of pent up grief and loneliness and latch onto Dante for fear of losing him again. Nero takes a step back, distancing himself to ground his emotions.
"You've got some nerve, still calling me 'kid' after all this time," he quips, but there's no real anger behind it. "I've grown a lot, you know."
Dante hums in response as his eyes roam over Nero's body, appraising how much he's changed. His gaze lingers on the new, prosthetic arm that's replaced his Devil Bringer, and Nero subtly angles himself so that the limb is less visible. That is not a conversation he wants to have right now, because he knows if Dante asks, he won't like what he hears.
"Yeah, no," Dante finally says, "you're still a kid to me, kid."
"...Whatever, old man."
It's so normal, such a typical thing for Dante to say, that Nero is painfully overcome with the urge to hug him again. He can't bring himself to be flustered or upset by it, because he's sorely missed the usual teasing and bickering in Dante's absence. Hearing it now, as though nothing has changed, is welcome.
"This is all well and good," V interrupts, saving Nero from embarrassing himself further, "but time is of the essence..."
Nico clears her throat from the van. "I take it you know this guy, Nero?"
"This guy," Lady says before Nero can give a proper introduction, stomping over to Dante, who raises his hands in a placating gesture, "has been missing for, what, five years now? I'd hit you if Nero hadn't already done the honors!"
"It's good to have you back, Dante," says Trish, watching with amusement. "You were missed dearly."
"I can see that, geez..."
Nico goes wide-eyed, looking back and forth between them wildly. "Wait a second now, did you say Dante?"
Dante, the oblivious fool, says, "Yup, that's me," and Nero calmly moves out of the way as Nico launches herself out of the van and at Dante. She's giddy at having the chance to meet her idol, rambling fervently and bombarding him with questions. Nero flops against the side of the van, content to let Nico badger Dante for as long as she wants. It serves him right for being such an idiot, and it also gives Nero a chance to actually get a proper look at him.
He looks... good.
Well, Dante somehow always looks good – not that Nero will ever admit it aloud. His ego is big enough as it is. What would he do if he knew Nero thought the old, stupid cowboy-esque outfit was hot? How Dante even manages to be attractive while wearing at least five belts and chaps is a mystery. He doesn't need to know how Nero had secretly mourned when the outfit finally got replaced with the one with the too-long, dramatic coat. And he certainly doesn't need to know that Nero is now mourning that outfit too, because the coat did look good on Dante, and–
The point is that Dante looks good.
His shirt stretches across his torso deliciously, top button undone and revealing a glimpse of salt-and-pepper chest hair. It makes Nero want to rip the damn shirt to shreds. Dante's hair is unkempt and longer than Nero can remember ever seeing it, the perfect length for burying his hands in and pulling–
"I'll bet he looked quite a mess when he returned from Hell," Trish interrupts his thoughts. Nero jolts, surprised – he was admiring Dante with tunnel vision so bad he hadn't noticed her at his side. Her lips quirk up in a knowing smile. "He cleans up nice, hm?"
"...I guess," Nero replies, looking away in embarrassment.
If the look on Trish's face is anything to go by, she's about seven seconds away from teasing him, but once again, V comes to his rescue, albeit unintentionally. He taps Nero on the shoulder with his cane, nodding once towards the Qliphoth looming in the distance.
"We should make haste," he says, "our foe grows stronger every second."
"Impatient," Lady mutters, adjusting Kalina Ann on her shoulder, "but you're right, we should get a move on. Besides, I'm sure Dante could use some de-rusting, too."
Dante perks up at the mention of his name, helplessly glancing between Nero and Nico, who continues to excitedly fawn over the older hunter and his weapons. Her eyes are practically gleaming as they take in every intricate detail of the guns Dante holds. Nero can relate more than he'd like to admit, but nonetheless, he takes pity on Dante and walks over to the pair.
"Come on, Nico. We got demons to kill, remember? You can talk to him on the way there."
Her annoyed look turns into one of glee. "He's comin' with us?" Nero barely has time to nod before Nico is shoving him out of the way in a rush to get back to the van. "Why didn't you just say so, let's go!"
"She's... intense," Dante says, watching as she herds the others inside.
"I guess that's one word for it." Nero deliberately takes his time getting to the vehicle, because he's happy to get a chance to be alone with Dante, even for a short while. "Sorry about this," he says quietly, once again taking in Dante's tattered appearance, "I doubt the first thing you wanted to do when you got back was hunt more demons."
Dante gives him a mischievous grin. "Worried about me?"
"...Maybe just a little."
Dante looks surprised at the admission, but pleasantly so. "It's fine," he says with a dismissive gesture. That's not much reassurance in Nero's opinion, but then Dante takes his prosthetic hand in his, squeezing gently. "You can help me relax later, though, if you want."
Nero looks down at their joined hands where Dante's fingers lace comfortably together with his. The cold, biting metal of his artificial limb is warmed by Dante's touch, and Nero can't help but smile, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.
"Yeah," he says softly, "I can do that."
Nero spends a majority of the ride brooding in the back of the van. Nico dragged Dante up front with her, because of course she did, and while Nero normally wouldn't really care about something like that, Lady and V are also crowded around the front, which leaves no room for Nero. Hence the brooding. V speaks quietly to Dante, and Nero can only assume that he's filling him in on the situation, if the grim expression on Dante's face is anything to go by.
That leaves only Trish and him, seated next to each other. Trish is currently reading a magazine that she picked up off the floor, or pretending to read it, at least. Nero is pretty sure that's the case because she's been on the same page for about ten minutes now. Surely no magazine can be that interesting, except for maybe the questionable, sleazy ones Dante reads sometimes.
"What're you reading about?"
"Cars," Trish replies shortly as she delicately turns the page. A brief look down at the magazine tells Nero that it is, in fact, not about cars. It looks to be a culinary magazine – most likely accidentally left in the van by Kyrie, he figures.
Nero waits for Trish to say more. When he gets nothing but further silence, he looks up to see her staring at where Lady is hunched over Nico's seat, apparently deep in discussion. Nico has one hand on the steering wheel, the other reverently caressing Kalina Ann as though the weapon is something mystical. Nero can't hear what either of them are saying, but Lady is beaming with pride.
"She really should be watching the road," Trish says, which is true, but Nico never watches the road.
"Are you jealous?" Nero asks instead.
Trish scoffs, turning back to the magazine and glaring down at it as though it's personally offended her. That's about as good of an answer as any. Nero wonders if it would comfort her to know that Nico probably just has a figurative boner for Lady's rocket launcher. After all, Nico has a thing with Kyrie. A thing, because Nero isn't certain that they're dating yet or not, but he does know that some level of commitment is there, and the amount of romantic and sexual tension that he's had to bare witness to is frankly ridiculous.
"You really don't have anything to worry about, you know."
"You find Dante genuinely attractive," Trish says before Nero can elaborate, not looking up from the magazine, "your opinion doesn't mean much to me."
Nero chokes, his face heating up in embarrassment. He glances nervously towards the group up front, fearful that Trish's comment was loud enough to draw scrutiny, but thankfully, it seems that no one overheard. While his relationship with Dante is hardly a secret to Trish and Lady, he hasn't mentioned it to Nico at all, and he's known V for all of a few days.
"That was unnecessary!" he hisses.
The side of Trish's lips quirks up in a smirk. "Maybe, but it's true. And you made it oh-so very obvious earlier... to me, anyway," she adds, probably meant as a comfort because Nero still looks more than a little flustered.
Had the hug really been that long? Or maybe it was the way he checked Dante out...
Just as Nero is beginning to contemplate his choices in life, movement at the front of the van catches his attention. Dante rises from the passenger seat and carefully slips between V and Lady, mindful of Nico's reckless driving as he approaches the backseat, keeping a hand against the wall to balance himself. Nero is much too embarrassed to properly look him in the eye.
"Need something?" Nero asks, hoping that his blush isn't quite so noticeable.
"As nice as your friend's... enthusiasm is," Dante says, "it's you that I missed."
Nero blinks up at him, eyes wide. "...Oh," is all he manages to say, struggling to recover from the unexpected blow to his heart. If the blush wasn't noticeable before, it definitely is now.
"Well, then..." Trish huffs out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I guess I should leave you two alone, shouldn't I?"
Ignoring Nero's weak protests, she drops the magazine into his lap unceremoniously and stands from her seat. He feels a little guilty, but she would probably rather sit near Lady, anyway. Trish steps around Dante, exchanging a silent look with before making her way up to the front. Honestly, it's unnerving how she and Dante are apparently still able to communicate without a word, even after so many years apart.
Dante settles down in the vacated spot next to him, stretching an arm around the back, around Nero's shoulders. The movement causes his shirt to shift slightly, exposing his collarbone, and Nero tries his best to calm down and not stare at him like a starving animal.
"I, uh, forgot to ask," Nero says for lack of anything better to say, "how'd you find us?"
Dante hums in thought before answering. "Well, the office was empty when I got there, so I figured I'd call Lady and Trish, but they didn't answer. Got in touch with Morrison eventually, and he filled me in on the basics. Although," he pauses to turn towards Nero, "I found a little something in one of the desk drawers when I was looking for his number."
Nero cocks his head to the side in question, and Dante reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a rumbled, pale yellow sticky note. It's hard to make out exactly what's written on it from a distance, but it's definitely Nero's own handwriting. The note looks kind of familiar, almost like–
Oh no.
Sometimes – all the time – when Dante's absence weighed down on Nero particularly hard, he would just... write notes to Dante on the notepad meant for client info. Not love notes or anything, just... normal notes. About how much Nero missed him and loved him and wished he would come home. That's all. Thinking back on it, especially now that Dante is actually holding a note and having read it, it's just plain humiliating. Nero never actually intended for Dante to read any of them. He merely wrote them for his own benefit, as a way to cope over his mentor-partner-roommate turned boyfriend being missing.
"Actually, there were a lot of notes in that drawer, but," Dante smiles fondly at the little piece of paper, "this is my favorite."
Oh God. Oh fuck. Oh no.
"You want me to read it?" He clears his throat and begins in a high-pitched, delicate tone, "Dante, I think about you every da–"
"I know what I fucking wrote, you don't have to read it to me!" Nero hastily tries to snatch the note from Dante's fingers, if only to shut him up before someone overhears. "And I do not sound like that!"
Dante just laughs, easily keeping the note high out of reach with one hand and catching Nero's wrist with the other. Without preamble, he lifts Nero's hand up to his lips, pressing a soft, light kiss to the back of his knuckles. Any thoughts Nero had about punching him are gone, mind briefly going blank in shock.
"In all seriousness..." Dante says, breath ghosting across Nero's hand, "it means a lot to me. Thank you, Nero."
As Dante gazes up at him, eyes warm and affectionate, all Nero can think is, I would kill and die for you.
"Yeah, well..." Nero looks away, unable to handle the sheer amount of love Dante looks at him with. "I just wish I could've been there to welcome you home."
"We're together now, that's enough for me."
Their time apart must've really fucked Nero up, because a line like that would've normally made him hide with embarrassment, but now, he just feels the urge to cry and cling to Dante like he's all that matters in the world. Fuck, he's really missed this big idiot. Dante has yet to release his hand and Nero can't quite bring himself to pull away, so he steels himself and raises his prosthetic one to cup Dante's jaw, slowly, just in case Dante wants to refuse.
"Dante..." he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss–
And promptly smashes his forehead into Dante's chin as Nico hits the breaks. Nero hisses sharply in pain, jerking backwards as Dante does the same, rubbing his chin. Up front, Trish has a hand braced against the dashboard, and Lady looks to have ended up partially on the floor. Only V remains seated, seemingly unaffected, though his knuckle-white grip on the leather seat beneath him betrays this.
"Here we are!" Nico announces, chipper and oblivious. She turns around and blinks when she's met with Nero's glare. "What's that look for?"
"...Nothing," Nero sighs, knowing that it's not worth it. He gets up, hoisting Red Queen on his back.
Dante makes a noise of confusion from behind him. "I don't see any demons."
"Sorry, this is as far as I go. Can't risk my baby gettin' hurt, can I?" Nico says as she pats the van's steering wheel lovingly.
"You guys can go on ahead," says Lady, dragging Kalina Ann into her lap, "I want to see if Nico can make some modifications to my stuff first."
Trish says nothing from where she sits, but she doesn't make to move either, so Nero can only assume that she's also staying behind. He has a feeling that it's out of jealousy and possessiveness rather than anything else, though, but he refrains from commenting on this, lest he incur Trish's wrath again.
"Well," Nero says as he leisurely steps out of the van's door, Dante and V following, "I guess it's just us."
V hums in contemplation, side-eyeing him and Dante. "If it's all the same to you," he drawls, "I'll go my own way and meet up with you later."
Nero certainly isn't going to complain about being left alone with Dante. He nods his acceptance, watching V stalk off before heading in the other direction with Dante at his side. At least this way they'll cover more ground, he supposes, but it sounds more like an excuse than anything.
Once Nero's deemed that they're out of hearing range, he mutters, "Sorry about your chin."
"All good.There's plenty of other chances to kiss you, like right now," Dante turns to peck him on the cheek.
"You're in a good mood for someone who has to walk a mile."
Dante chuckles, a rare, genuine smile on his face. "What can I say? I get to fight side-by-side with you again..." he says, "I'm excited."
"...Me too," Nero can't help but agree, giving Dante a toothy grin.
It's the truth, too. He's eager to show Dante how much he's grown and how well he can handle himself in battle now, and he can't wait to see Dante in action again.
This is going to be good.
This is fucking awful.
Not because of the walk. Not because of the demons. Not even because of Dante.
...Well, actually, it is kind of because of Dante.
Nero finishes off another demon and risks a glance at the older hunter. Dante cleaves a demon in half as he snaps a leg out to kick another in the torso, sending the poor creature spiraling mid-air until it crashes into the scaffolding of a nearby building and pathetically crumples to the ground. An impressive move for sure, but all Nero can focus on is the way Dante's cock... jiggles between his legs from the sheer might of the kick.
Yes, it's Dante's fault. Dante and his stupid, giant dick.
When Nero first saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, he thought he was just imagining things, because there's no fucking way, right? But no, twenty-five glances later, and he's sure that is definitely Dante's dick jiggling in his pants whenever he moves with enough force.
It's stupid. Dante's dick is stupid, and the fact that it's distracting Nero is stupid–
Nero flinches as there's a series of gunshots, mere inches behind him. He turns in time to see a devil fall at his feet, Dante keeping Ebony and Ivory aimed at it while it dissipates into ash.
"Getting sloppy, kid?" he teases, all confidence and ease.
Nero snarls and snatches the closest demon by its neck, slamming it into the ground several times before electrocuting it with the Devil Breaker for good measure. Overkill, if the slight crater and cracked concrete beneath the demon is anything to go by, but it gets an impressed whistle out of Dante. That makes Nero feel a bit better, but he still continues to take his sexual frustrations out on the rest of the hoard.
For all the many, many times that Nero has had Dante's cock in his ass and his mouth, he doesn't remember it being big enough to wobble around like this while flaccid. It was always big, of course, impressively so, but he's almost positive that there was no cock-jiggling back then. Then again, it has been a few years since he's slept with Dante, so maybe this is just a detail that he's forgotten about.
Or, Nero thinks, it could be his pants. Or maybe he's not wearing underwear? And that is a dangerously appealing thought.
"Looks like that's the last of 'em," Dante says, holstering his weapons and turning to face Nero. He watches with rapt attention as a bead of sweat trails down Dante's neck into the dip of his collarbone. Nero swallows, mouth suddenly dry.
It's been way too long since the last time he and Dante fucked.
The chances of Nico letting them do it in her van are nearly nonexistent, but she might agree to take them to a hotel for the night. Nero has a deep, carnal need for Dante right now. The thought of Dante pinning him down and fucking his brains out with that stupidly huge cock of his is irresistible, although the other way around just as tempting – Dante sweating and panting underneath him, cock bobbing against his stomach in time with Nero's thrusting–
"Kid?" Dante snaps his fingers in front of his face. "You okay?"
Nero realizes that he's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. "...Yeah," he says, dragging a hand across his face in hopes of calming down, "just tired."
"Me too," Dante accepts the answer easily enough. "You don't think that Nico girl will come pick us up, do you? I don't feel like walking."
And then Dante stretches his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn, his shirt riding up with the movement, just enough to reveal a sliver of his midriff and the trail of silver, coarse hair leading down beneath his pants. Something inside Nero snaps.
He grabs Dante by the shoulder and shoves him against the wall of the nearest building. The wall cracks from the force behind Nero's manhandling, but the building is already in pretty shit condition, so he doesn't feel that bad about it. Truthfully, the whole city could crumble down and Nero wouldn't give a fuck so long as he got his hands on Dante's dick.
Dante cautiously looks back and forth between Nero's face and the hand smashed into the wall next to his head. "Nero?" he asks slowly, carefully.
Just ask if you can suck him off, Nero tells himself, don't make it weird.
"If this is about the teasing earlier," Dante says when Nero just continues to leer silently at him, "I'm–"
"I don't care about that," he snaps, then forces himself to take a deep, steadying breath. He pull his hand away, so he's not crowding Dante against the wall quite so much, and instead settles his grip on the older hunter's waist. "I... I missed you."
"Nero..." Dante murmurs gently.
"I missed you," Nero repeats, "and I haven't given you a proper welcome back yet." He lowers himself onto his knees, slowly as to keep eye contact with Dante, who blinks down at him in surprise, cheeks faintly pink. "Can I?" he asks, fingertips resting on the waistband of Dante's pants.
Dante grins, coy. "Right here? I didn't know you were so kinky."
"Is that a yes, or...?"
"It's cute that you think I'd ever turn down a blowjob from you."
Nero preens. He tries not to look too eager as he undoes Dante's belt and deftly pops open the button of his pants. It turns out that Dante is wearing underwear, so there goes Nero's cock-jiggling theory. Oh well, that's something he'll have to investigate further, later – there are more important matters at hand. He tries not to drool as he pulls Dante's semi-hard cock free of its confines. So big...
"Did you miss me, or my dick?" Dante asks shakily around a laugh.
"Both," Nero answers, and it's true. He cups Dante's balls and leans forward to place a soft kiss to the head of his cock.
Bucking his hips, Dante whines, "Come on, it's been years. Don't tease me."
That's good, because he doesn't have the patience to tease and draw things out like Dante does, anyway. Forgoing any pretense that he's not just as impatient, Nero wraps his hand around Dante's cock, stroking and jerking it to full hardness as he suckles and licks at the tip.
Nero gradually takes more and more into his mouth as it stiffens, slurping noisily all the way, which would be embarrassing as Hell if he wasn't so aroused. Dante is panting and gasping above him by the time that Nero has his face buried in his public hair, jaw spread wide to accommodate his girth. Seeing the older hunter so undone like this, Nero can't help but moan around the hot, heavy member in his mouth.
"Shit, Nero..." Dante sighs. His thighs are trembling.
Nero pulls back, dragging his tongue along the underside of Dante's cock, tracing a thick vein. "You can fuck my throat if you want," he purrs, licking the drool and precome from his lips.
"I want," Dante says intelligently, and Nero takes him into his mouth again without preamble.
Dante tangles both his large, warm hands in Nero's hair and uses him like a toy, alternating between holding him and yanking him forward to take more of his cock, heavy balls slapping against his chin repeatedly. Nero revels in such rough manhandling, being so used. There's suddenly a sharp twinge in his lip, and then the coppery taste of blood mixes with salty precome, the friction of Dante's thrusting having reopened the split lip he gave himself earlier.
Nero merely moans, muffled and weak. It stings but it's so good. He continues to obediently slurp and suck at Dante's cock, tear-filled eyes rolling back in pleasure as he palms his own painfully hard erection through his pants.
The sight pushes Dante over the edge. With a grunt that sounds nearly animalistic, he empties himself into the molten heat of Nero's mouth, keeping a firm hand on the back of his head to keep him still. The sudden rush of thick semen down his throat makes Nero choke, but he does his best to swallow every drop, breathing raggedly through his nose as he watches Dante fall apart above him.
At last, Dante relaxes and leans back against the wall, boneless and gasping for breath, though he keeps one hand atop Nero's head, idly petting him. Nero gives a few last kitten licks to his softening cock before pulling back and resting his cheek against the older hunter's leather-clad thigh. He feels oddly sated despite not having come yet himself, perhaps a consequence of having been away from Dante for so long. He's completely content to sit here, kneeling on the ground, but Dante apparently has other plans, as he pulls Nero up on shaky legs.
"You're such a good boy," he says breathlessly and molds his mouth against Nero's, kissing him fervently, possessively.
Nero whimpers into his mouth when Dante slots a leg between his, nudging at his erection. He practically collapses against Dante, weakly gripping his coat for support as he grinds on his thigh. It's downright pathetic how hypersensitive and desperate he's being right now, but Nero can't bring himself to think of anything other than how right it feels to be entangled together with Dante like this. He comes embarrassingly fast, breaking the kiss in favor of shoving his head in the junction of Dante's neck, all but going limp against him.
Dante just holds him through the aftershocks, running his fingers through Nero's hair and humming comfortingly.
"That was unexpected," Dante says, smile audible in his voice, "but definitely not unwelcome."
"Ah, w-well... like I said, I wanted to give you a proper welcome back," Nero mutters against his neck, sheepish. "So... welcome back."
Laughing softly, Dante presses a fond kiss to the top of his head, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him closer. Nero knows he should pull away, so they can hurry and meet back up with the others. They've got a job to do, after all.
...
Oh well, Nero thinks as he relaxes into Dante's embrace, it can wait a few minutes.