Violence
It starts with a slap in the face, but somewhere between shoving Near down the stairs and kneeling over her, grasping a fistful of hair as a handle to slam her small, white head into the floor over and over again, even Mello can barely rationalize her reaction to herself. It's not like she'd caught them fucking or anything—if anything, it's Matt's fault, anyway—but the expression on his face as Near stood there, still damp from the shower and wrapped in nothing but that ridiculous bath robe embroidered with ducks…Mello hadn't been able to see past the red haze that settled over her vision long enough to keep herself from head-butting the other girl in the stomach and clawing for her eyes.
It's not like Near's defenseless, anyway. She gives almost as good as she gets, ripping desperately at Mello's carefully styled pageboy and tangling her fingers in the collar of Mello's black shirt. The shoulder seams are giving, and already the shirt's trashed, stretched so far that it drips precariously over her shoulder, showing anyone who cares to look that Mello'd been planning on surprising Matt with a new lacy black bra.
"I hate you!" Mello shrieks, slapping Near so hard that her head rocketed to the side, despite the hand buried in at the roots of her hair. "I hate you so much!" Mello is so angry that tears are pouring down her face. She's bitten her lip to bloody pulp to keep back the desire to bite Near, to rend and shred her with her teeth. The blood is already dripping from her shaking chin, leaving little oblong stains behind on the bath robe's cotton fluff. Near's knee comes up and catches her in the stomach, and they're rolling again.
Near scrabbles desperately, trying to gain dominance, but Mello's already a head taller than her, and despite her thin frame—boyish, almost, where Near's curves were already derailing the boys; Matt only barely places third because Mello likes to fuck him into the mattress regularly—she's deceptively strong. She settles above the blonde just long enough to sit up and stare imperiously down at her before Mello surges forward again, slamming the smaller girl to the wooden floor with a hollow thunk that would, in other situations, be almost sickening. Near's dazed, and Mello takes the opportunity to kneel over her, one knee pressing between her breasts—the robe has long since fallen open, and the little pink nubs of her nipples are hard in the drafty hallway—against her solar plexus. Her chest is heaving against the weight of Mello's leg, and Mello leans further, teeth bared in an open snarl.
"I will kill you some day," Mello grits out between her teeth, pressing with her leg to emphasize her point. "You go near him again, and I will cut you."
"Matt can make his own decisions," Near replies solemnly, but her eyes betray her as she darts her pink tongue out to lap at her torn lip. "He's a grown man."
"No, he's not! He's a boy that likes to let his cock do his thinking for him, and with you flouncing around half-naked and dripping like you're gagging for it, you little whore…," Mello's voice trails off, too frustrated to take the time to find the right words. Her hands clench involuntarily in rage, nails digging into Near's white shoulders, and her mind goes pleasantly blank as she bites—hard—at Near's jaw.
Near makes a stilted, hungry noise and suddenly their mouths are mashed together, lips caught between teeth and tongues writhing, surging against each other violently. Mello draws back, stunned, and stares mutely at the blood-red bruise already rising to the surface of Near's skin. "What the hell—?" she demands as Near drags her back down by the hair.
"Just shut up," Near gasps against her lips, spidery white hands reaching up to climb the ladder of her spine beneath the torn and bloody shirt. Her nails are clawing hot lines down Mello's back. She's writhing against her leg, and Mello realizes she can feel the warm curls of pubic hair on her foot, wet with more than water.
She wraps a hand around the underside of Near's breast, squeezing hard and flicking the nipple with her thumb. "I don't get what's so great about these things, anyway. They're just great lobs of fat," she sneers as Near's hips thrust up against her. "They're disgusting."
Near groans, loudly for such a quiet girl, and bites at Mello's lips, sliding down to press her teeth into the fading bruise of a love bite. Mello can barely bite back the whimper, mentally damning Matt for marking her weak spots so clearly. She shifts, pressing her foot more firmly against Near's wetness and smirks as the other girl falters long enough for Mello to get in a few bites of her own, trailing down Near's neck toward the breast she has palmed. She bites viciously at the pale underside, leaving tooth marks and livid bruising in her wake. Near pants desperately.
"You're a fucking dyke," Mello murmurs against the soft skin. Her hand flutters down to Near's hip, then dips to scratch through her pubic hair. "You're so fucking wet for me. You want this. You want me to finger you, want me to lick your cunt?" Near's eyes are closed tightly as Mello pulls the wiry white curls—even her fucking pubic hair is white!—and she cries out, head falling back against the floor. Mello chuckles lowly and bites at her earlobe, trailing just her index finger over the slippery skin of her labia. "You do, don't you? Say it; say you do. Say you want me to fuck you with my hand."
"Mello—!" The cry is sharp and breathy at the same time, and sounds like a prayer. Mello laughs lowly and pushes in to play with the warm, sticky slickness.
"God, hear how wet you are for me," Mello murmurs, deliberately stirring between Near's sprawled legs obscenely. She slips a finger down to penetrate the other girl, carefully crooking her finger to stroke the inside walls as Near keens and arches beneath her. She leans over Near and kisses her deliberately, passionately, as she manipulates her. Near's legs are locking, her toes curling, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her hips move in shallow circles thrusting up as Mello slowly, deliberately sucks a nipple into her mouth and grinds the mound of Venus on her palm against Near's mons, trapping her clit and rubbing. "Come for me. Come right now," she instructs in a hoarse tone, and Near sobs as she clenches around Mello's fingers.
Mello sits up, withdraws her fingers, and stares contemplatively at the clear, sticky fluid pooled in her palm. Near is still lying there, legs akimbo and robe askew, dark eyes watching her as Mello touches the tip of her tongue to the tip of the finger that had been inside her. "Hm. Not bad." She smiles wickedly as she says it, offering the hand to Near. "Lick it off." There's no room for argument, and she feels every tentative touch of that tiny pink tongue in her pulsing groin. A fantasy of Near, crouched between long thighs and lapping at somewhere more intimate flits through her mind and she represses a moan. By the time she comes back to herself, her hand is clean and Near is watching her with dark, dark eyes.
"Mello…."
"Dude. That was fucking hot."
How they'd missed Matt standing there at the foot of the stairs, shifting uncomfortably and trying desperately to cover his hard-on as he stared at them, Mello doesn't know. She lifts a hand to him and he rushes over to help her off the floor, taking the chance to oogle Near up-close. Mello punches his arm but doesn't say anything, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady her suddenly weak knees.
"Take me back to your room," she commands with smoldering eyes, and he all but falls up the stairs trying to drag her with him. Halfway up the stairs, though, she looks back at Near, who's carefully putting herself back together, wrapping her decimated robe around herself gingerly. "Well?" she snaps. "Aren't you coming?"