Hello reader~! I hope you enjoy my REAL attempt at a yaoi~! I think this is heavily modeled after Pushka's style of writing (I love him so much. He's amazing. You should read his work.). I'm not sure how long this will be or how often I'll update, so keep an eye on it~ And if you think I'm taking far too long, feel free to send me a message or post again demanding another chapter! Just like Dante, I'm lazy, procrastinate, and it takes me a long time to get things done.

Well, I hope you join us for the ride!

It was quiet and dark when he decided to call. After so many nightmares and so many sleepless nights, it was time.

Hesitantly, he lifted the phone from the receiver in the kitchen and stood there a moment. What if there was no answer? What if he was rejected? His stomach sank, but a voice in the back of his head assured him that the phone would be answered and he would be accepted.

His confidence was still there when the phone rang once. It waned on the second. On the third, he was clutching the phone to his ear, eyes wide. On the fourth, there was finally an answer.

". . . Devil May Cry."

"Dante," he sighed.

"Nero?" the voice on the other end asked.

(*)

The shop was quiet and empty as always. The pool table and desk were lined with empty pizza boxes and crusted beer cans. There was a figure moving around with a trash bag, picking up garbage.

Lights filtered in through the blinded windows, giving the room a light akin to a sepia tint. Dust caught the air, and floated, settling on one of the various, sparse furniture in the room.

The man coughed, shooing the dust particles from his face.

It was then that the door opened, taking away the tinted light. A young man stood there, feeling out of place, a drawstring bag slung over his shoulder.

"Nero," the man smiled. The boy in the door way stopped his scanning of the room and gave a soft smile.

"Dante," the youth dropped his bag and dashed forward. He caught the man in a bear-hug around his middle. Dante blinked, unsure of what to do, hesitantly wrapping his arms around the boy. The kid's hair was longer than he remembered. The kid was even wearing his hood. Something was wrong for sure.

"Nero. . ." he started but the boy shook his head, squeezing him tighter. The pain and heartbreak of the past year that had built up suddenly released and he was sobbing into Dante's shirt, blabbering.

The man blinked, startled and confused. He coaxed Nero to sit on the couch and hunted down a box of tissues and settled in to listen.

Nero told him about Kyrie leaving because she couldn't stay in the city that killed her brother. How he had to find work elsewhere because the Order collapsed. How he was living in some two-bit apartment, barely able to pay his bills or buy food. Lastly, he informed the man of his worst nightmare coming true.

Nero stripped off his jacket and hoodie, pulling his shirt off as well. Dante enjoyed the view a moment before turning his attention to Nero's arm. The hard, demonic scales were climbing up Nero's arm. Where it once ended at his elbow, it now extended up to his shoulder.

"It keeps growing," Nero said softly, tugging his black shirt back on. "I don't know what to do to stop it, Dante."

He nodded, ". . . I'm not really surprised. I thought something like this might happen."

". . . What should I do?"

"I don't know if there is anything you can do," Dante exhaled, running his hand through his white hair.

". . . Then, there's nothing? Just to accept it as it takes over my heart? Dante, you know I can't do that."

"I'm not asking you to do that. You aren't one to sit back and take things lying down."

"You're good at it," Nero snorted. Dante exhaled.

"Not the point, kid." Dante said, standing, "why don't you get your stuff? I'll make up a bed for you."

The youth nodded and stood up, fetching his bag by the doorway and shutting the door. The other man moved to pull the cushions off the couch and pulled out the hide-a-bed. The hinges creaked in irritation, but the mattress was still a clean white, albeit faded slightly.

"Unless you want to share my bed, that'll have to do," Dante informed Nero when he noticed the youth eyeing the mattress with distain.

"It'd be a real bed," Nero grumbled under his breath, but tossed his bag on the hide-a-bed.

"C'mon. Let's get you lunch. You're hungry, aren't you?"

The boy nodded and Dante ruffled the boy's hair. Nero huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Hard to believe the kid was crying his eyes out and spilling his soul just a few minutes ago.

(*)

Nero convinced Dante that they should dine out and the older man drove them to a small diner—a favorite of his-called Freddie's. Nero watched in disgust and frustration as Dante shoved globs of strawberry sundae down his throat. He couldn't fathom how the man could do it. The mistake the youth made was voicing the question.

"Try it," Dante ordered, sliding the dish Nero's way and handing him the spoon. The youth looked at the unsavory glob in the bowl.

"Dante, I really don't—"

"Just try it. I bet you'll like it," he grinned. Nero rolled his eyes then looked at the mess in the bowl again.

". . . Do I really have to?" the boy nearly whined.

"Don't knock it till you try it."

Nero looked back at the dish once more, then dropped the spoon in the sugary mess and shoved it back to Dante. "I'll pass. I don't want a toothache."

"Live a little, kid," Dante smirked, resuming his eating.

"How do you not have a toothache?" Nero groaned. Honestly, watching this was making him feel sick.

"This isn't the only thing I eat," Dante objected.

"Pizza and beer, right?" Nero grinned smugly.

"Just try the damn desert," Dante launched over the table, shoving a spoonful of strawberry sundae into Nero's mouth. The boy gagged and tipped his chair back so far he fell to the floor.

"How's it taste?" Dante grinned. It took a few moments, but Nero's hand soon appeared on the table and he pulled himself up. Coughing, he pulled the spoon from his mouth.

"You nearly choked me!"

"So you want seconds?" Dante grinned. Nero glared and threw the spoon at Dante. It bounced off his head and landed on the table.

"Fuck you, old man!"

"No thank you," Dante smirked, Nero blushed faintly.

"You perverted old man!" Nero growled, "Are there any thoughts in your head that aren't sick?"

Dante gave a laugh, "Please. That's what you like about me."

"Ha. Right. Of course it is," Nero laughed.

Dante smirked and started to speak when a young woman slid a pizza on the table. She smiled at Dante, then noticed Nero and winked at him. The younger man blushed as she bent over, her low cut shirt making him embarrassed.

"Dante, who's your friend?" she asked, smiling.

"Kid's name is Nero."

"Nero?" she leaned closer, "Is he single?"

"N—" Dante started, but was cutoff.

"Yes," said the boy suddenly. The server looked at Dante who shrugged.

"Enjoy your pizza," the girl smiled and skated away. Nero stood his chair and sat down, staring out the window.

". . . You need to eat, kid," Dante said.

"Not hungry," Nero said softly, not looking at the elder. Dante exhaled and pulled off a slice of pizza. The boy stared a bit.

"Eat. At least one slice," Dante demanded. Nero exhaled and grabbed Dante's wrist and took a bite of the slice of pizza in the older man's hand.

"There," Nero mumbled, eating. Dante snorted.

"Just take it."

"I'm not hungry," Nero said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and staring out the window again.

The elder exhaled and starting eating the slice he offered to Nero. The boy looked at him in disgust.

"You're going to eat after I took a bite out of it?"

"Of course. No sense in wasting it," Dante said through a mouthful of food.

"What if I wanted it?"

"You told me you weren't hungry," Dante smirked.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Nero huffed, pouting as he looked at the window. The elder grinned at his expression.

"If you want it, here," Dante offered the slice again, now missing three large bites. Nero looked at it in distaste, then hesitantly took it from him.

". . . You aren't sick or anything, are you?"

"Depends on your definition of sick," Dante grinned. The boy huffed and started eating. In no time at all, they had consumed the entire pizza.

(*)

When they arrived to Devil May Cry, Nero flopped down on the creaky hide-a-bed. Before the pair left, Dante had tired the mattress down, in hopes that it would flatten it out.

"You eat too much?" Dante laughed softly, shrugging from his coat and hanging it up.

"If I wanted any, I had to scarf it down," Nero grumbled, "You ate like it was your last meal."

"That's because I never know when those money grubbing leeches will come by," Dante said, scratching his chin.

"Money grubbing leeches?" Nero propped himself up on his elbows to look at the elder.

"Yeah, I've got a couple of hot headed demons I owe money. You know one of them, actually. She was disguised as Gloria. The other. . . well, she's cruel enough to be a demon," he shrugged.

". . . You owe them money?"

"I'm so far in debt I can't even breathe," he laughed, scratching his head. Nero stared.

"You. . . can't be serious."

"Dead serious. I swear, I'm still paying for when brother rose Temi-Ni-Gru, and that wasn't even my fault!"

Nero started to speak, but Dante shook his head, "Long story. Most of the city was destroyed."

". . . Destroyed? You have to pay for it?"

"I had to. There was no one else to shoulder the blame. Lady and I were the only two to leave the temple alive," noticing Nero's expression, he added, "You'll most likely meet Lady soon, if you stay long enough."

"Tch. I don't want to stay if I eat like that every night," Nero snorted. Dante laughed.

"I suppose I can afford to buy two pizzas next time," Dante surmised.

"Oh you suppose?" Nero glared, sitting up. Dante simply grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I should charge you rent. How long are you staying, anyway?"

"You're so tight on money that you're going to charge a friend for bunking with you a few nights? That's really sad, Dante," the youth said, shaking his head.

"Not a friend, a smartass punk who ate my pizza."

"Tch. Maybe I should go rent a hotel room."

"Maybe you should."

The two smirked at each other a moment, before Dante's faded to a smile.

"It's good to see you, kid."

"You too, old man."

Okay, so To Die For wasn't my first attempt at a yaoi, this was. This one I started writing in my Speech and Debate class (Oh, the irony) ad my friend typed it up. She sent it back a few weeks ago, and I've been meaning to get it up. Yeah, the first chapter is long, I know. I already have chapter two ready, which will be just as long or longer. I have to finish typing it up.

I like this fic more than To Die For. Maybe because this one I'm taking at a slow pace and enjoying as I write it. The other one was rather hap-hazardly thrown together while here I have a plot.

Wow, tahts a long note. Well, thanks to my watchers for your patience, my reviews for reading, and thanks to anyone who wants to send any ideas for this my way~! I'll listen and see what I can do. I may start doing short little ficlets and posting them up here, so if you have ideas for those, tell me. My short little ficlets turn out better than my stories with a full plot line~

Thanks again!