A/N: this is an almost-sequel to another fic of mine, entitled bleed. it's not necessary to read bleed in order to understand heat, however. rated for Mello's naughty potty-mouth and implications of a two-person tango. also, hurrah, my first time with writing Matt!
lyrics provided by sugarcult.
--
i want a love, love that won't hit back; want sex, sex without a catch
want a face, to trust, to feel, to lust in the heat of Los Angeles
want to fuck, fuck, fuck this up; gonna feel, feel, feel you up
had enough, enough, enough's enough in the heat of Los Angeles
--
heat
--
The morning after her capture, Sayu was startled awake by the sounds of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs into the basement, accompanied by the smell of burning.
"--your fuckin' gameboy down for two seconds and help me lift these boxes, alright? They weigh a ton." The bound and gagged female turned onto her side so that she was facing the source of the commotion. She heard the familiar lilt of a British accent and recognized the black leather of his boots before the mafia leader came fully into view, accompanied by another boy with red hair that she had never seen before.
"Isn't that what you've got lackeys for, Mello?"
"You are my lackey, dipshit. And why don't you do me a favor and just shut the fuck up, alright?" 'Mello' was the butter-haired teen she had gotten acquainted with the night before, the man who had master-minded her kidnapping. As he passed under the dim, solitary light-bulb hanging from the rafters, Sayu was allowed a better look at his face. She noted with grim satisfaction that his lip was still swollen and tender from the night before when he had tried to kiss her. Bastard, she thought hatefully, glaring at him from her position against the wall as he moved beyond her. I hope it gets infected or something. "Show some discretion – Yagami's daughter is right there."
"What?" the redhead asked, looking up from his game as he stumbled over the last step and onto the landing. He pocketed his gameboy in one of the many folds of his vest and pushed his yellow goggles up onto his forehead, squinting at her in the darkness as he took a drag from his cigarette. "That's the deputy director's daughter? Dude, what a babe."
Mello rolled his eyes at his companion, and then his gaze flicked over to where Sayu was laying, gagged and bound from the night before. "What're you lookin' at?" he snarled at her, his face contorted up into an ugly sneer.
"Maybe she's checking you out, Mello."
The blonde snorted in distaste, and his companion grinned in response.
"…Yeah, you're probably right. She's clearly checking me out."
Mello shoved him. "Matt, the boxes," he said tersely, jabbing one finger in the direction of some dusty shelves in the far corner of the room.
"What happened to you stressing the importance of anonymity?"
"They're aliases anyway," Mello said, looking impatient. "You said so yourself, earlier. Now, get a move on before I kick your scrawny ass."
"You're one to talk. You've got the shape of a girl, Mels. Not a particularly well-endowed girl, but I'd probably still do you."
"…yeah, I'll bet you would," Mello said, giving Matt a sideways glance before stomping over to where the boxes are lined up haphazardly on shelf above them. Matt continued to linger at the foot of the steps, however, openly staring at her. Mello tapped one foot impatiently, glaring over his shoulder at his accomplice. "Matt, will you please fucking stop leering at the hostage."
Matt blinked, as if being shaken free from a trance, and slid his goggles down back over his eyes. As he walks over to help Mello with the supplies, Sayu idly wondered how young they were (there can't be that great of a difference in their age, neither of them looked scarcely older than her. Eighteen, then? Nineteen?), how they met, and what path they had taken to lead them to this place in their lives. Then she remembered who they were to her, and what they've done, and she went back to hating them.
--
Seven days later it's Mello who comes stomping down the stairs, plastic bag clutched in his left hand. Sayu narrowed her eyes as he stalked over to her, knelt down on one knee, and unceremoniously yanked the gag out of her mouth.
"Well, well, well," are her first words, tart and snippy. "If it isn't the king himself."
"Here's your gruel," he said, rummaging through the back and revealing a Styrofoam container, brandishing it in front of her face like a weapon. "Can I untie your hands, bitch, or do I need to hand-feed you?"
"I thought you had minions to do this kind of thing for you."
"Christ, you sound like Matt," the blonde muttered irritably, and although she had not given him a straight answer yet, he reached behind her to undo her bindings, anyway. As the ropes fell away she brought her arms around to her front, massaging each swollen wrist carefully.
"Where's Kal?" she asked. He was the one who was usually in charge of her meal-times.
"He has other things I need him to do," Mello answered shortly, and passed her the box and a plastic fork. The Styrofoam container was loaded up with greasy Chinese take-out, and Sayu wrinkled her nose at the smell.
"You got me Chinese, but no chopsticks?" she admonished.
"This is a mafia hideout, not a five star hotel, you elitist whore."
"You really don't like me, do you?" she asked him conversationally, twirling some chow-mien around her fork. It's actually quite good, she thought as she chewed.
"I can't fucking stand you, to be perfectly honest."
"Then why not nominate someone to do it in Kal's place?" she offered reasonably. "Why do the dirty work yourself?"
"Do you want to get raped?" Mello asked in return, with lifted eyebrows. "Kal was a wuss so I didn't expect him to do anything stupid, but I can't guarantee you'll keep your innocence with the others."
Innocence, hm? That was being a little presumptuous. Still, Sayu was almost flattered. Then she laughed outright in Mello's face, and the blonde looked highly affronted as she did so. "Oh, you mean they might pull a stunt like you tried, the very first night you met me?"
Mello grew pink in the face, although whether from embarrassment or rage, she couldn't quite be sure. "What I planned to do to you was mild in comparison, girl," he told her, through clenched teeth.
"Well then let me extend my sincerest thanks, Mello," she spat the name like a slur. "I never knew you could be so… thoughtful."
"I'm only protecting you while you're of use to me," he defended. "So don't misconstrue it with kindness."
--
"Mello's not so bad," Matt confided to her, two weeks in. "He's just has... unorthodox methods."
"There's no use defending a murderer to me," Sayu huffed, arms folded across her chest.
"What if I told you it was in the name of justice?" Matt asked, fingers furiously working the buttons of his handheld. The translucent glow of the Nintendo made his face pale and otherworldly in the dark quiet of the room. "To avenge a loved one? Couldn't it be considered different? A… noble pursuit, if you will."
"I don't care about all that," she told him fiercely. Ha, justice. She's heard the word parroted to her a million times since Kira's first reign, first from her dad, and then later, her brother. To her, murder is murder, regardless of the motive. "I don't really care about anything right now, actually, except that he's gotten me all tangled up in this mess. I mean why me, of all people?"
"Because your Chief Yagami's daughter," Matt said simply. "And your brother is Kira."
Sayu opened her mouth to retort, changed her mind, and closed it before Matt would notice. She has been told this too several times over since Kira's introduction to the media, and so she lets the comment roll over her like water off of a duck's back. Whatever.
"You know, he doesn't even like to kill," Matt continued, eyes still glued to the screen in front of him. "He uses it as an absolute last resort." Almost as an afterthought, he added: "good thing, too, otherwise you'd be in really big trouble, huh?"
Sayu bit her lip. She watched Matt for a moment, her gaze tracing the length of his wiry body, from his long legs to the unkempt goggles, nimble fingers and the cigarette held between his teeth, set at a jaunty angle. Then, slowly, she inquired: "Matt, why are you telling me this all anyway?"
Matt smiled, just a little.
--
On the night prior to her scheduled release, Sayu found herself lying in the crook of Mello's arm, staring up at the dirty ceiling. She was slick with sweat and uncomfortable as a result, but still couldn't find it in herself to move. Instead, she ignored the stifling heat of him and snuggled up closer, listening to the drumming of his heartbeat.
He has just taken her virginity. (Presumptuous, her mind whispered, in reference to an earlier encounter: but ultimately correct.) Whether she has taken his in return is completely up in the air, but Sayu thought it was unlikely. Almost fondly, she reached up and combed his damp, tussled hair out with her fingers. He sighed in something that might have resembled appreciation.
For a long time they simply lay naked between the sheets, waiting for their perspiration to dry and their skin to cool. As Sayu listened to Mello's deep, even breathing, she wondered briefly what has come over her, and if she will regret it in the morning.
It was a long time before anyone spoke, but when Mello finally does his voice is slightly hoarse from any lack of functional use, other than the occasional guttural moan from earlier. "You'll be going home, tomorrow."
"Will I?" she asked. Despite Matt's earlier insistence, and their impassioned moment of insanity, she isn't sure that Mello opting to kill her is entirely out of the question.
"We're going to make a trade," Mello continued in a half-whisper. "The notebook, for your freedom."
"Oh." She doesn't bother to inquire as to the significance to the notebook: she knows he won't tell her. She is not his confidant; only his lover. She suddenly felt shivery and cold in the aftermath of their rampant desire, and reached for a handful of blankets to cover herself with. Mello shifted beside her.
"Sayu?"
She turned to the sound of her name. Mello was now positioned on one hip, twisted so that he was facing her. He leaned forward, and for a moment, Sayu closed her eyes in anticipation of a kiss: then he took the fragile, flimsy flesh of her lower lip between his teeth, and bit down just hard enough to draw blood. Sayu cried out in pain and shoved him away.
"That hurt, you asshole!" she cried and slapped him on the shoulder.
Mello grinned at her. "An eye for an eye," he said, with a devilish glint in his eyes. "For earlier."
Sayu considered slapping him again, and then wondered if it was weird that she was going to miss him.
--
this city's killing me
i want, i want, i want everything
this city's killing me
in the heat of Los Angeles
what has become of me?
(i want everything)