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Technically, this can’t be called as catching a cold, Nero is only getting allergic to extracted verbena. After breathing in the herb powder, he immediately taught that frenzied priest a lesson. Dante, on the other hand, was receiving their payment from another apologetic nun. “Sorry about that, kid.” He chuckles when hearing the first sneeze coming out of the younger hunter, sincerity adorning his voice.
“Does every demon have to put up with this bullshit?” Nero complains with a hint of nasal, before sneezing for a second time, sounding like a small, feral animal growling. Dante stops at the red light, throwing a pack of tissues at him from the glove box. “Depends. Familiars won’t get near them, weak devils would feel pain or itchy. As for me…… my nose got stuffed up for straight two days.”
The younger hybrid throws the ball of tissue out of window, earning a scowl from another man. However, Dante is aware of Nero’s bad temper, so instead of pissing him off, he decides to act nice and pleasure him with his embarrassing experience.
“I was buying something from a witch when it happened. A apprentice of her gave me some kind of snack-- don’t give me that look, it seemed really good, I mean it. Anyway, there’s verbena powder on those macaroons, at first I only feel something odd in my throat when returning to Devil May Cry, then on the next day, I end up muted accompanied by endlessly sneezing.”
“You only ate a bit, and you deserved that.” The soft nasal in Nero’s voice means anything but scolding the bastard in front of him. Dante raises a hand in surrender, continues on driving. Meanwhile, Nero starts to wonder where can he get some verbena powder to silence Dante for a few days while leaving him some peace. Soon after that he’s yawning, in order to get rid of this shitty cold as soon as possible and mess with the old pervert, Nero decides to take a small nap.
※
……Nero……
A cool hand meets Nero’s soft cheek. Not exactly cold, more similar to the chill after skin getting numb in the hot water. He nuzzles against it, curling up on himself. “It’s cold.” He pouts. “Why turning the AC on when it’s not hot?”
Dante’s warm breath blows onto his forehead. “Nah, it’s because of your fever, kid. We’re home, better have you bundled up as soon as possible; I’ll get you something.”
The younger hunter buries his face into the source of heat, instinctively leaning into the other man’s embrace. When Dante is at the door, the poison against demon leaves his nose stuffed as well. Nero opens his swollen lips, trying to breath in while smelling dirt and the pungent scent of herb. “I wanna bath.”
The warm water is relaxing, Nero stands in the flowing water, washing away any sweat and filth, before wrapping himself in a piece of white towel and approaching Dante like a descending angel. His mind is blurred from the fever, that he’s not certain if Dante is taking advantage, pressing his lips against Nero’s toes and the top of his foot. The red hunter is always trying to touch his feet, despite Nero protesting about his depraved behaviors. To take revenge, he wants to kiss those shameless lips, but thinks better of it when considering contagious issues.
Dante spends some time comforting him, before leaving Nero in the bed. The latter nudges his face into the pillow, inhaling his scent mixed with Dante’s, spicy and addicting.
The man returns with a bowl, filled with white liquid that Nero assumes it’s milk. He pulls himself out from the pillow, sitting up against the headboard. “Gimme that.” He squeezes those words out from between his stopped nose. Dante only replies with a few chuckles, without obeying the younger. “Patient never shows patience, that’s the idea.”
Nero opens his mouth and takes the spoon, his larynx moving while he swallows. Dante believes that he had yawned before, judging from those marine blue, watery eyes veiled by fog. The fluid merges into his soft, wet mouth, his eyes focused yet maintaining some notches of ease, reminding Dante of a kitty asking to be fed.
He licks his upper lip after the first spoonful of milk is finished, demonic claw taking hold of Dante’s hand. The elder hunter feeds him another spoon, Nero’s eyes is always on him, dazed, trusting mixed with underlying dependence. A satisfying smile appears on Dante’s face: This is actually the first time of him taking care of someone, luckily without screwing anything up. The process goes on and on, the kid generously accepts his offer, drinking up the rest of warm milk in his bowl. Dante lets go of the empty utensil, reaching out to ruffle Nero’s fluffy white hair. The younger hunter seems to be enjoying this more than he does, closing his eyes under the soothing touches of his lover.
Adorable, Dante thinks to himself. Yet if the kid acts like this everyday, he’ll have to worry about Nero getting cursed by some devils or so. Leaning forward, Dante presses a kiss to Nero’s mouth, tasting the light sweetness of milk inside. The younger obliges at first, before pauses and starting to struggle. But the man slides his tongue into Nero’s mouth, gently licking at the remaining taste of warm milk.
The younger hunter finally manages to push him away, while Dante makes a pleading expression. “The way you glared at me in the car makes me thought that you wanted me to suffer as well. Now I’m jumping into the hellhole with you, and you’re going to stop me?”
He presses a finger near his jaw, taking in the sight of his blushing lover, and the astonishing speed of Nero covering himself and turning over, avoiding his gaze.
As much as Nero hates to admit, being embraced and taken care of by this scruffy man brings up a wave of warmth within is chest, something in his heart swelling under the heat. It couldn’t have been something emotional or relying, he won’t put it that way, not at all; must have been Dante’s fault. And speak of the devil, he just finds his way into the blanket, spooning him from behind.
Nero remains immobile during his nagging, even if Dante reaches out to wrap his arms around his waist. Eventually, Nero’s eyelids fall shut at the heat combined with steady heartbeat on his back, the thumb gently caressing his abdomen, and the familiar scent of Dante.
