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Nero has some control of the size of his wings, but it has limits, and he's afraid he's approaching a limit of his own.
He's on his back on Dante's bed, hands fisted in the sheets and one wing manifested under his spine, and they've already made a mess of the bed.
"You can do it, kid." Dante's kneeling between Nero's legs, and he looks so hopeful while he watches Nero thrust four wing claws inside himself. "It wasn't my first thought for what I'd do with wings, but you make it look good."
Nero's got enough on his mind trying to keep his claws and fingers blunt, never mind following his uncle's banter. The skin of his claws is unnaturally smooth, ridges aside, and doesn't feel warm or cold inside him; keeping track of his claws would probably be easier if he had more sensation in them. He just can't win. "Shut up and let me concentrate," he grits out.
"No, I don't think I will." Dante runs his hands over Nero's thighs, digs in with his thumbs; Nero twitches, and his claws slide a fraction further in. "I think your problem is you're getting too tense."
"I'd like to see you stay relaxed while I shove my fist up your ass."
"Depends." Dante reaches for the bottle of lube on the bed with one hand, and tugs gently on the wrist joint of Nero's wing until Nero pulls out. "Do I also get you on massage duty? Or sucking my cock? That'd help, I bet."
Nero lets Dante add more lube to his wing, push more into his stretched asshole. He can feel pressure where Dante slides his fingers against his walls. No stretch, though, and Nero shudders at the realization of just how far they've come.
"But you also give excellent head," Dante continues. He pets the skin just above Nero's hole, then guides Nero's wing back into place. "So I'm biased. Woohoo, you caught me."
Nero makes a distracted noise while Dante rambles on. The extra slick is helping a lot, and four claws go in easier than before. It actually feels kinda good when one of the flanges on his claws nudges into his prostate; he rocks into the pressure a little.
Dante must notice, because he pauses his commentary for a second, but then he picks back up with something about mirrors and watching Nero's hands.
Still doesn't feel like fingers or a cock, not even a Devil Trigger one - he's too full for that, his claws too irregular. He angles his wing up a bit. His claws can feel pressure and resistance but not temperature or texture, and he's losing track of them compared to how much they're filling him up.
He thrusts slowly, until he stops feeling a burn when his claws spread his hole wide. That's probably as good as he's going to get, he thinks, and pulls his wing entirely out and reaches for the lube bottle.
"Let me," Dante says, quiet. Almost reverent, like the church-goers back in Fortuna when they prayed. Like this is important.
Nero closes his eyes and nods. He feels Dante add more lube, then arrange Nero's claws to his liking - extended, in a way Nero doesn't have the attention to keep up by himself. Dante cups his hand around Nero's claws and guides them back to Nero's entrance. He's gentle as he pushes them in, but steady. The first three go in easy, the fourth all right, and the fifth-
Dante strokes the back of Nero's thigh with his clean hand. "Breathe through it," he murmurs, and Nero does.
It's a lot. He must make some kind of noise because Dante makes soothing noises in return, changes to twisting Nero's claws in a bit at a time. "Almost."
Nero feels every millimeter as his hole stretches around his claws, and it's a shock when the pain stops.
He's in, all the way to his wrist.
Fuck, he's all the way in. Nero laughs helplessly, and the feeling makes him flail his hand to grab for Dante's hair. He needs something more solid than the bed to ground him.
When he opens his eyes, he sees Dante staring down at where his wrist meets his ass. Dante's flushed all down his chest and breathing hard, like he's been fucking Nero instead of just minding the lube.
"Hey," Nero says, and nudges Dante with his foot. "Where do you get off, looking like you did all the work?"
And Dante must be distracted, because he doesn't go for the easy quip - instead he leans forward to kiss Nero, careful not to crush Nero's pinions with his knees. "You're amazing," he says against Nero's mouth.
"Well yeah." He uses his grip on Dante's hair to pull him back into another kiss, harder than the last. The movement shifts his wing and therefore his claws, and he groans into the kiss. It's simultaneously too much and not enough to make him come.
Dante pulls away to look at him. "I need-"
"I've got you." Nero lets go of the sheets and trails his hand down Dante's stomach. Grasps his cock. Dante's breath stutters when Nero starts an easy rhythm, and he sits up enough to see all of Nero's torso. Dante strokes over Nero's abs and the bone of his hips, callouses rough and wonderful. It's a nice distraction from the way every little shift & change moves his claws inside him.. for as long as Dante lasts anyway.
After less than a minute, Dante spills over Nero's hand with a muffled "Shit." Nero holds him through the aftershocks, then wipes his hand on the blanket beside him. He waits while Dante catches his breath, and yeah, okay, it's good for Nero's ego that just watching him has Dante so wrecked.
With a sigh Dante slides down the bed, conveniently out of the wet spots. He smiles. "Now. What about you..."
Dante presses his thumb against Nero's hole, and the too-much-not-enough feeling is suddenly there again, in focus.
Dante doesn't stretch things out, thank fuck. He rubs his thumb up and down under Nero's balls and sucks the head of Nero's cock into his mouth, not bothering with teasing. Nero squirms - rocking into and away from Dante's hand both make his blood pound, but he has to move. He lets go of Dante's hair.
"Don't stop," he says, and digs his fingernails into the back of Dante's neck. "Don't stop, don't stop-" There's no bright edge to chase, no rubber band of arousal. Just constant feeling, building with every rock of his claws against his prostate and every suck of Dante's mouth. More, he thinks, caught in the swell as Dante tongues the head of his cock. More, as his claws spasm and push against his walls, as he arches against Dante's hands, as he kicks against the sheets, until it's finally enough and he comes down Dante's throat.
He floats for a little bit, content, while Dante moves back up the bed. When he tilts his head to look, he's greeted by Dante's entirely-too-smug smile.
"Hey there," Dante says.
Nero makes an irritated noise, not quite ready for words.
"Yeah, yeah, 'Dante has the best ideas,' let's get you cleaned up." He pads out of the bedroom and Nero can't even appreciate the view, because that would require moving.
He dismisses his wing and stretches to distract himself from the empty feeling. There are spare sheets in the dresser, he'll get to them. In a minute.
After Dante comes back with warm cloths and Nero bullies Dante into cleaning up their mess, they curl together under clean blankets, Dante sprawled half over Nero's back. It's warm and dry, and Dante's weight is soothing.
He's almost asleep when Dante nuzzles Nero's shoulder and oh shit, that's a smirk. "Told you you could do it," Dante says.
There's a limit to how much smugness he's willing to deal with tonight, and that's it: so Nero unapologetically kicks Dante off the bed. Fucker can sleep on the couch.