Chapter Text
In the morning that came, Nero stirred in his father’s chest as the man was reading the same tome from the night before. When he noticed Nero slowly coming back to wakefulness, he set it aside and brushed his hair away from his forehead, wanting to look at his eyes when he finally woke up.
“Good morning, son.” He said quietly, almost as a prayer held timidly in the fragility of the new day, when Nero batted his eyes open to find his father looking down at him, the sound of his heart beating in his ears.
Nero settled against him again, feeling his body back to his normal size; the spell had worn off in the night. “Good morning, dad.” He yawed in the other’s chest, not wanting the moment to end just yet.
No, he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he was back to his normal size, nestled against his father’s chest and breathing calmly with his nose in his neck.
But as neither moved, another did.
Dante slammed the door open downstairs, yelling his greetings for the morning and demanding Vergil to come make breakfast unless they all wanted the kitchen to end up in flames and for their food to be overcooked beyond salvation.
Nero groaned at the peace that had been stolen from him, but didn’t feel the loss to be permanent. The words Vergil said from last night didn’t escape him and they were engraved in his mind; he hoped for a redo another time. Although he also wanted the moment to end, as unfortunately as it had to, with some gratitude.
“Thanks, dad.” He admitted quietly still in the crook of the other’s neck.
Vergil’s eyes widened and Nero caught the instance just a second too late to see it happen; he also saw how Vergil was staring at him before he eased into the moment as well, squeezing Nero’s arm before they had to get up. “Anytime, son.”
With that final promise, they both went downstairs: Nero to fight Dante the way he had promised and Vergil to cook for his family lest everyone starved.