AN: This is the start of a new little project, which I PLAN to update weekly, if not more often. But It's 6am, I didn't sleep a wink, and I have to go start getting ready for school now. Enjoy~~~
Apple Phsyche, this first block is a present for you, because you respond to my blathering facebook posts in the wee hours of the morning. 3
Prompt: November
It's a nice day, Matt thinks to himself while shoving the blond into the elevator and pinning him against the wall.
A well-dressed woman with dark curls gives an indignant gasp and hurries out into the hall. The only reason Matt even noticed her was because she had the indecency to actually stare for a few seconds.
Truth is, it isn't a nice day. It's a horrible day, in fact (as most have been as of late), and Matt is doing everything in his power to distract Mello from it. And being that his power is limited, everything consists mostly of pouncing on him every few seconds, though, he isn't getting any complaints. So they stay like that for a moment or two, panting and shifting against each other ever so slightly, until the sound of heavy breathing fades away, and then-
"You're fogging," Mello smirks, craning his neck to run his tongue up orange plastic, leaving a clear vertical streak on the lens. One would-be green eye meets him widely, before that grin – that fucking beautiful, lopsided, one-cheeked grin – has Mello back on the redhead's lips and fucking biting.
Prompt: Angel
Some people would argue that Mello, with his blond hair and his pale skin and his sapphire eyes and his just general everything in the ways of physical appearance, looks for all the world like the ideal heavenly creature.
Mello, in turn, will shake his blond head, put a pale, leather encased hand on some people's shoulder, turn them around, and point them in the direction of the couch, mentioning that if there's an Xbox, you're getting warmer.
Prompt: Innocence
The afterglow is something wonderful as Matt shifts one hand to splay over the scarred pectoral and slowly, slowly run his open palm over and down the upturned side of the blonde's arm. Mello lazily turns his head to watch and rewraps one leg around the redhead's waist, smiling slightly as Matt's hand stops briefly over the inside of his elbow, because Matt knows that's where the dead nerve endings stop and the live ones begin again. From then on, Matt adds a little more pressure and its smooth sailing the rest of the way down the blonde's forearm. Their hands meet and clasp each other, Mello's leg tightening around the redhead ever so slightly –but Matt feels it- He watches as he brings Mello's hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle, then upturning it to kiss the palm, his wrist, back up his forearm –pausing at the elbow- his bicep, scarred pectoral (heartbeat), collar bone, jugular, behind his earlobe.
"Fuck," Mello breathes quietly with a shudder.
Matt can feel him blinking rapidly, so he stays where he is, face buried in Mello's neck, ignoring the wetness on his own cheek.
Prompt: Picturesque
"When we're done with the case," Mello slurs into an upended, empty bottle of UV Blue somewhere around 4am, "I'm gonna take you some place nice. Like, beyond-Olive-Garden-nice; Classy shit." He tosses the bottle –literally tosses it- off into a corner somewhere; it breaks. "And then we're gonna rob it."
"Promise?" Matt hiccups. He's still working on half a bottle of spiced rum as he rolls on to one side to look blearily at the blond on the floor next to him. His studded belt scrapes the tiles something awful.
"For sure," Mello affirms, one hand groping blindly above his head. Matt snorts and moves the Goldenbarr to where Mello can reach it. "And then we'll buy a place. A nice place. A fucking good place…" He wraps a hand around the neck and unscrews the top with his teeth, somehow managing not to spill the whole thing onto himself as he takes three long gulps.
Matt doesn't think he's ever seen anyone gulp vodka before; they might be dirt broke for a reason.
"And then," Mello says as he's coming up for air, "I'll buy you whatever the fuck stupid game you want. I'll buy you a fucking pile –mountain of that stuff," he tips the bottle again, another drink, "and then I'm gonna fuck you on it."
Matt smiles, albeit drunkenly, but Mello still thinks it's gorgeous. Then again, he's completely smashed too.
"Promise?" the redhead asks, laying back down and shivering slightly when the tiles come in contact with the small of his back.
"For sure."
AN: Review? I have graphic design class in an hour so I'll try to get some responses in then. -chugs caffine like a mad woman-