The house is blessedly quiet. Nero stretches his legs out on the bed, the light from the television casting his bedroom in a faint glow. It had been a long day at the end of an even longer week, and his eyes close halfway as he dozes, the tips of his hair still a bit damp from the shower.
Demon hunting had not been a particularly lucrative career path, but it had picked up considerably this week. Nico had guessed it was because of Halloween coming up at the end of the month, which was probably true. But Nero didn’t care, as long as the money kept coming in. With the Holy Knights disbanded, he was now the main protector in Fortuna, scoring a contract with the city to be on-call. Yet even with the contract money, new clothes and school supplies for the kids had put some strain on the already tight budget, so he is pleased enough with the extra work.
Balancing all that with his responsibilities at home takes its toll, however. They have six foster children now full-time, and Kyrie is busy herself with her work in the community, due to her recent appointment to the board of the charity that had been established in the aftermath of the Order’s collapse. The wealth they had amassed now goes to helping the people affected by the destruction they caused, and Nero is beyond proud of her for such a prestigious position. It has made her an important figure in the community, but the credibility she lends to the Devil May Cry office does mean more work for him at home.
He is nearly asleep despite it being relatively early when there is a soft knock on the door. Nero sits up a bit when it opens, and smiles to see Kyrie peek her head inside. “You still awake?” she whispers.
“Yeah.” She steps inside and closes the door, and he pats the mattress next to him. “Come over.”
Kyrie gives a laugh as she climbs onto the bed. She settles against his side as Nero wraps his arm around her waist, immediately dipping down to press a kiss to her lips. They spend another minute or two just like this, kissing slowly, his hand pressed to her back as her arm slides around him.
They break apart and she lays her head on his shoulder. “Are you tired?”
“A bit, yeah. Had a chase today.” He yawns and squeezes her closer. “Everything good downstairs?”
“Mm hmm. Kids are asleep. Dishes are away. Laundry’s folded.” Her voice is so soothing that Nero turns his face towards her, and he can feel her lips brushing against his cheek. “Nico went out for a bit. I think she might have a boyfriend.”
“Good for her.” They fall into a comfortable silence as Nero strokes her hair, which she has let grow down her back. Eventually she will get up and go back to her room, but for now he enjoys having her pressed against him—so much so that when her hand slips under his t-shirt, Nero almost doesn’t notice.
Her warm palm glides over his chest, and when her fingers brush his ribs he gives a startled laugh. “That tickles,” he murmurs, kissing her nose.
He expects her to laugh in return, or maybe to remove her hand. Instead she rolls her body so she is on top of him, and Nero snaps out of his half-asleep state to look up in surprise. Her long hair falls over one shoulder as she straddles his hips, her hands pressing lightly against his shoulders. "Kyrie...?" he asks, his brows going up.
She leans down and kisses him, her lips soft and perfect against his. Immediately his hands go to her thighs, dragging up to her waist, his fingers curling into her shirt. Kyrie uses one hand to stroke his jaw as she rolls her tongue against his, making Nero groan. They have made out like this before, loads of times, but always stopping before it goes too far: never more than some petting over their clothes, bodies rocking together to chase something out of reach. But Kyrie had told him she wanted to wait, and he was fine with that, especially once she had made it clear she was waiting for him. Plus, deep down he was scared of the next step: scared of hurting her, scared of disappointing her, scared of not being ready. It never made stopping any easier though, and when they would go to their separate bedrooms, he would lay in the dark and think about her and fight off the urge to take care of himself before eventually giving in with her name on his lips.
They are both panting when she pulls away to nuzzle her nose against his. Nero swallows, trying to fight back the erection that is tenting uncomfortably under his jeans and praying she doesn’t notice. “I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too.” Nero tilts his face up to press their lips together again. Kyrie returns the kiss eagerly, her sudden enthusiasm again catching him off-guard. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just…” She sinks down a bit, their chests pressed together, her hips moving in a way that has her center settled right over his. Nero lets out a soft moan, feeling frozen, wanting her so badly he could taste it.
“You just...?” he prompts breathlessly.
Kyrie laughs. “I just… I thought that I might be… ready.”
“Ready?” he echoes, his voice tight.
She nods. Then she rocks her hips, grinding down against the bulge underneath, and Nero’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh. Oh? I mean, really?”
“Yeah.” Her lips brush against his again. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah?” Kyrie kisses his cheek as his heart pounds in his chest. “You’re sure? You said you wanted to wait…”
“We’ve waited.” She meets his gaze, and there is something in her eyes that burns him. “I’ve been thinking about this. We’re going to get married, right?”
Nero clears his throat. “Yeah. I mean, I want to, for sure. I-I’ve wanted to ask—”
Kyrie laughs again. “It’s okay. So much has happened in the past few years, but now… I’m happy with you, Nero. I love our family. And I think I’m ready.”
He is speechless, his face on fire from her confession. He shivers when she brushes a finger across his cheek again, and then she sits up on his thighs. Nero leans up on his elbows but before he can ask his question, Kyrie pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it away.
Nero gapes at her for a moment before he realizes his mouth is hanging open. He sits up quickly, wrapping one arm around her small waist, and pulls her against him. With his eyes steady on her he presses his lips to her collarbone as his free hand cups her breast, and the way she licks her lips has him stretching up to capture her mouth again. The kiss they share is passionate, making him ache for her, her body perfect in his hands. Kyrie tugs his shirt off next which he eagerly obliges, and both are moaning quietly at the feeling of skin against skin, her soft body against his hard one.
He shakes in anticipation when Kyrie pulls back enough to remove the rest of her clothes. Nero pulls his own off, and he enjoys the look on her face as she looks over the lean muscle of his body almost as much as he enjoys her lovely curves. They morph into a tangle of limbs as their hands move feverishly over one another, barely breathing as they kiss again and again. Her touch on his back, his hips, stroking his stomach and his thighs before tentatively brushing along his hard length drive him mad. Nero’s heart pounds feeling her fleshy hips and her slender legs that wrap around him, seeing the perfectly flushed nipples that harden under his kiss, and hearing her sighs when he leaves open-mouthed kisses on her neck.
Her fingers dig into his shoulders when he begins to grind against her, and Nero can barely take the feel of her body, hot and wet and silky. Slowly he moves, his gaze glued to her face, reading for when discomfort turns to pleasure until Kyrie pulls him down into a slow kiss. She rocks her hips to meet his, tugging on his lower lip when he gives a choked cry. His hips press flush against her thighs, leaving her panting, his own arms trembling with effort to keep himself from thrusting hard and deep and losing himself inside of her.
Kyrie ends up on top, setting the pace and the depth for her own comfort; but in the end it is still too much. Soon and almost without warning Nero erupts inside of her, choking on her name as he thrusts upwards. He shakes as she slowly grinds against him, and when it is finally over she moves off of his body and slips to lay next to him as he weakly holds her close.
Her lips brush his forehead as he presses his face to her neck. “Oh, Kyrie,” Nero sighs. Curiously, his hand moves between her legs, wanting to touch her. “That was—”
She gasps and arches against him, cutting him off. Nero does it again, grazing his fingertips along her slit, spreading the moisture there over her sex. Kyrie grabs his wrist as she spreads her thighs, holding his fingers still, and he watches in amazement as she falls apart under his touch. His pulse beats in his ears with her little gasps of pleasure, and when it is over it is her turn to press her mouth to his neck with a shaky breath.
Nero murmurs her name, his arms tight around her. They lay on their sides, holding one another, and he can feel the flutter of her eyelashes against his shoulder. “I love you,” he says.
Kyrie runs her hand down his arm. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“Every night,” he answers.
Her eyes close and he watches her doze until his own tiredness takes over. For the first time in a long time he feels utterly relaxed and content, Kyrie’s breathing next to him calming. Once more he notices how peaceful the house is, and his last thoughts before falling asleep are of her.
Dante is half-asleep in his chair when the door to the Devil May Cry bangs open. He jolts a bit, cracking one eye open to see Nero standing in the doorway. “Don’t you knock?” he calls over semi-playfully.
“Kyrie—is she here?” Nero strides inside, looking around, hopping down the steps to the main floor.
With a frown Dante sits up, pulling his feet from the desk. “Why would she be here? What’s going on?”
He notes the deep frown on Nero’s face, and then feels the pulse of malice that comes from him. “She’s gone,” he says, his voice dark and dangerous. “She’s missing.”
“Missing?” Dante rubs his face but keeps his eyes sharp on Nero. “Don’t sound like her. You’re sure?”
“She was gone this morning. I didn’t think anything of it, figuring she had gone to run some errands but no one’s seen her. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not answering her phone.” Nero finally looks at him, and Dante registers the fear in his eyes, bright as a fever. “Like you said, it’s not like her. She would’ve told me where she was going.”
Dante crosses his arms. He can tell the kid is dead serious and in the years since he’s known him and Kyrie, he would never have guessed she would just take off. “I’m sure she’s fine. Got caught up running errands or something.”
Nero shakes his head. “It’s been hours.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Yeah. They won’t do shit until it’s been forty-eight hours. I can’t wait that long.” He gives Dante another pained look. “She wasn’t home when the kids were done school. Something’s happened to her, I know it.”
With a deep sigh, Dante drops his head. He had a big evening of doing nothing planned, but it looks like that’s out the window now. “Okay.” Dante walks around his desk, heading for the steps. “Let me grab my coat and I’ll come help you look.”
Nero nods, and Dante takes the stairs two at a time. In his room he changes his shirt and pulls his leather coat out of the closet and shrugs it on. He checks to make sure his guns are loaded, and after a moment’s thought, straps a knife on his thigh. If Nero is right and something did happen to Kyrie, it’s best to be prepared. “It’s probably nothing,” he mutters to himself, but he’d better go anyway and make sure Nero doesn’t get himself into trouble.
A minute later he is back downstairs, finding the kid on his phone. “Who was it?” Nero shouts.
Dante frowns as Nero runs his hands through his hair, tugging sharply at his scalp. “Fuck. Fuck. Okay, I’m coming back right now.”
“Well?” Dante demands as Nero stuffs his phone in his pocket.
“Someone came to the house. Dropped off a note.” The look on Nero’s face is a mix of danger and distress. “I think she’s been kidnapped.”