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“Dante… Still holding on to these?... “
“Ah these old things? I’m just too lazy to throw ‘em away,” Dante lied. He kept them in boxes and would never throw them away. Nero ignored his uncle’s words. Perhaps some things were too painful to admit. He couldn’t think about losing Kyrie; Nero couldn’t imagine how Dante felt.
But it’s been months now. Every time Nero visited, Dante was reading magazines in his chair.
Shouldn't he at least be trying to move on? Nero wasn't sure. Vergil thought he needed some space, slice a few demons and he'd feel a bit better.
However, Dante wasn't doing any of these things. He was rushing jobs, eating more pizza than he used to and he was sure the collection of assorted littered bottles on the floor was growing.
"Well, I need to go now," Nero mumbled.
"Yeah, say hi to Kyrie and the kids for me," Dante replied not looking up from his magazine.
"This magazine writes that they made a qliphoth porn parody… I mean that's one way to cope."
"Yeah… That news is a few months… nevermind. Just call me if you need anything."
"Will do kiddo," Dante waved his nephew farewell. Throw away your things? Never. It doesn't matter that Nero and Kyrie had a symbolic funeral. It doesn't matter he hadn't heard from you in months. Perhaps you found another portal to hell and instead of calling the crew, you got sucked in by your pride.
He'll give it another week.
Maybe you'll come bursting through the doors, shouting a string of silly curses--
"--Bloody hell holes of a fucking demon goober!"
Yeah, something like… Wait. Dante looked up from his magazine. He wasn't sure he was hallucinating. He called out your name. You were leaning on your sword and dripping blood on the carpet.
"Yeah? 'Sup love of my life?"
That didn't sound like you at all.
"Wanna get a piece of demon gunked ass?"
Ah, yes that's more like it.
"Sorry I was away for a lil' while. Man, this demon knocked me out cold for a solid day."
"Try half a year."
"WHAT?!"
"Yes, six months. It's been so quiet without you that I finally finished the books Vergil gave me," Dante said. He still hadn't gotten up from his chair. He still didn't believe it. You removed your blood soaked shoes, coat and trousers. You had some extra cuts and gashes on your legs.
"What no hug?" you asked with a smile.
"Come over here."
You walked over to Dante in your underwear.
"Why are you acting weird?" you asked. It really seemed to be you. Dante took out a little knife and almost wanted to stab himself: just to see if he was dreaming.
"You disappeared for six months," he explained. You grabbed his hands. You were warm. You stank of sweat and demon blood, but it was really you.
"Sorry babe," you spoke softly. "Must have given you a real big scare. But I totally beat your Qliphoth Sleep Record."
"Guess you did," Dante smiled when he said it. He pulled you on his lap. "Let's get you cleaned up, but first…"
Dante kissed you. When his lips touched yours, he knew it wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t able to kiss you in any of his dreams. Immediately, his arms wrapped around your frame. It took Dante a mere two seconds to dash to the bathroom with you. For the first time in weeks, Dante turned on the warm water. He easily took off the rest of your clothes.
“Still no bathtub?”
“Business’ been hard,” Dante answered. He noticed that you were staring at the shower; it worried him a little, but you got in the shower, allowing the warm water hit your skin. Dante undressed himself and got in with you. He didn't know where to begin: he wanted to touch you everywhere. Dante put his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. You were warm against his skin.
“Dante… Why are my things gone?”
"Oh… I put them away,"
"Why?" your tone of voice was a little off. Dante got worried.
"Uhm… Well, you were gone for a long time…"
"...You really believed I was dead huh," you sighed. Your shoulders hung low. Dante didn't know what to do, but luckily you turned around and hugged him.
"I'm here. I've been safe all along."
"Yeah," he replied. Dante felt warmth seep through his body.
Your hands glided across his chest. You pressed small kisses on his chest. Dante grabbed your wrists.
“This isn’t going to end well,”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t done in anything in six months. I’m going to eat you up,” Dante mumbled.
“You say it like it’s bad,” you said chuckling. It took Dante less than a second to decide to go for it. Dante knew his demonic side would get out. However, first he would take care of you. Dante grabbed the bar of soap and set it to work on your skin. The demon gunk was persistent, but so was the Demon Hunter. The dirt came off eventually, but Dante kept his hands on your body, massaging your sore skin and muscles. Your moans filled the small cubicle. The blood in Dante’s body rushed south.
“Skip the foreplay Dante,” you demanded.
“Sure thing babe,” he said and smirked.
Dante thanked you internally for getting the non-slip mat as he hoisted you up against the shower wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist easily and almost like you never were apart for months, Dante slid in you easily. He groaned loudly in your neck as he felt your walls clamp down on him, as if you wanted him in deeper. He felt the threads of his control slip away. The foam of his soap on your skin was long gone and the water caused the friction to increase--far less slippery than Dante had anticipated.
“Dante,” you gasped. “We can’t… afford… a new shower.”
Your words were strained but Dante realised very well what you said: don’t Devil Trigger. He smirked against your skin, teeth grazing your neck. Dante squeezed the flesh of your supple bottom, fingers applying the right amount of pressure on your nerves.
Ridiculous, he thought, he was going to destroy this shower, bathroom and entire upper floor if he had to.
Dante increased his pace, fully intent on derailing your mind with his cock. Because the way your walls missed him was driving him insane. His name was on your lips, warning him not to DT, but also moaning wantonly.
He was close.
Close to you, close to climaxing, and about to destroy his bath room.
You grabbed his shoulders and dug your nails in his skin; your telltale sign that you were tipping over the edge. Dante angled his hips. He wasn’t going to be satisfied until you were. Not until you were screaming so much that your vocal cords wouldn’t keep up. Not until he was spent and passed out on bed. He got you through your first orgasm, and judging by the way you screeched his name, it was an overwhelming one. His cock swelled up with demonic energy--pride does that to him.
After six months, Dante was ready to burst all over you.
So when he felt your walls clamp on him again, your teeth sink in his skin and your nails drawing blood, Dante knew you were there.
"Dante," you sighed. You sounded spent already, but it didn't matter. Two orgasms was not enough to make up for the six months you’ve been missing.
“Don’t destroy the bathroom Dante,” you warned. Dante growled and pulled you out of the shower and into the hallway. Dante's skin began to change. The water on your skin evaporated. The spasming of your walls and the quivering of your thighs was too much for the half-demon.
“I’m going to…” he muttered.
“Do it,” you permitted Dante. His voice rumbled in his chest as he let go of his self-control. His demon side took over immediately: his wings took form first as he desperately wanted to feel you wrapped in them. Your soft warm skin on his leathery wings. It was too much.
He was going to cum again.
But it’s not enough. He still felt the energy to go on. Dante still felt the desire to go on. It didn’t matter to him that his demonic seed was spilling out of you already.
“Dante, go ahead, I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. Your voice was raspy already. That was all Dante had to hear.
“Jackpot.”