AN: A drabble type thing I did as a gift for a friend on livejournal, they requested non-con with a religious edge. What they got was dub-con with a dubious edge, so here we go. Any feedback is appreciated :)
Mello's hands are bound in prayers.
Fifty prayers to be exact, and he knows them all by heart. Can let them spill of his tongue like holy water from a babe's brow, 'Our Father's' and 'Hail Mary's' spoken from heathen lips in tones worthy of the most devoted monk.
He does it now, whispers those words, soft and swift and sure, interrupted only by pained gasps as Matt inflicts his punishment upon him. Because it is a punishment, one Mello knows he needs to take to absolve his sins, purgatory before death at the hands of his best friend.
Matt had stumbled in, hot whisky breath, filling the room with harsh words and desperate touches, anger and sadness twisted into the same syllables as he shook Mello, demanding. Bittterness broke out on both sides, brought on by stress and frustration and the apocalyptic knowledge that death, yes death in all its finality was creeping up on them with cruel grasping fingers.
Words became fists, became feet, became teeth until rosary beads enclosed thin wrists and Mello didn't dare move for fear that the fragile string of prayers broke apart.
It reduced them to this, two desperate souls bound together by friendship, lust and impending doom, rocking together as they commited some of their last sins on this earth. The believer and the heathen, Mello praying for them both in the darkness and heat and hoping that somehow a vengeful God would reach down to them in benediction, forgiveness...
Our Father who art in heaven, Hallow be thy name...
Lips crashed and met until they were bruised and bleeding.
Thy will be done, Thy kingdom come...
Matt's fingers left vicious marks down a too-skinny chest.
On earth as it is in heaven...
The bed creaked and strained under their effort, old and weak and sickeningly rotted.
Give us today our daily bread, Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
His hands strained and fought not to break the bind, save the holy relic as it bound him to his fate as it ever had.
And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil.
Words left him and yet his mind screamed to finish it, even as pleasure and pain blinded it and Matt's voice seemed to be God in his ears, blissful blasphemy.
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, For ever and ever.
Two bodies met and crashed and fell, broken gasps punctuating heavy silence when Mello barely managed to breath it out.
"Amen."
And the broken prayers ran in streams across the floor.