Matt/Mello FanFic - One Shot.
Cold steel wrapped itself forcefully around my skinny wrists (with the help of Mello) handcuffing me to the iron bars that protected the window of the building we were squatting in, clanking mercilessly as it did so. I shut my eyes and hung my head.
I felt my leather belt being yanked off, then my pants and underwear being removed for no reason at all. I didn't protest, there was every reason to, but I knew I'd only get a cocked gun to my head, evil insults then few well placed punches.
"Ha, ha," I looked up to see Mello laughing at me, "how small?" he sneered, I knew exactly what he was on about. I let my head fall back waiting for the commands.
"Hey, you fucking slut, I asked you a fucking question. How. Fucking. Small?" He lifted my head up so I could receive an evil, tingling slap.
"I…I'm s-sorry," My words were being strangled by fear as Mello replied,
"Pathetic," he shot these insults at me quite often. At least five every half hour. Yes, I had counted to see then found the average after a day.
I could hear his leather pants opening to hell. I hated every moment of this. I remember the first time he did this, I could think of a reason why he'd do this to me. I mean, I know he was mean to me at the orphanage, but he actually acted like a friend then. Then L died… everything went wrong Mello did, the slight friendship, everything.
Mello grabbed my hair and pulled me up to face his erect member. "Open up and say fucking ah," he said as he thrust himself into my mouth. I was taken by surprise by how hard the thrust was, I felt a searing pain as my head slammed into the stone wall behind me.
I tried to switch off, to forget what was happening, to not here Mello. Nothing worked, I tried to think of the level of Mario I was on, not working. Spyro, god I hated that game, to bloody easy. Mello began to get louder, my sad attempt was failing. Concentrate harder. I came back to the bitter real world as Mello came into me. I felt sick. I didn't want to be alive. I never did when this happened. I wanted to spit the putrid fluid out, but from a past experience of a broken nose, many splits of my lip and parts of my skin and a lovely black eye, I dealt - like always.
Mello began to thrust again, deeper this time, making me gag. "I'll…give…you…something…to fucking….gag about," he muttered as he thrust quicker. His salty fluid shot to the back of my throat. "You're fucking shit. Remind me why I fucking bother…" he thought over his words quickly, "In fact, I don't even want to fucking know." He finally removed himself. As he did his pants back up he spat in my face. I watched him grab his black leather jacket off the floor and turn back to me, "fucking worthless fuck. That's all you are, a fucking useless, worthless, fucking slut." I was used to Mello's insults, but he had never called me worthless before, and it stabbed me, numerous time in the heart. I could feel it bleed. I choked on air as he turned and left the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind him as he did, leaving me in the dark, shivering.
"ARRRRGHHH," I screamed, as pointless as it may have seemed, If I had the ability to cry, I would have done. He was so fucking right. He always was. That's why he was second and I was third. Because he was better than me and because I was useless; all I did was play fucking games. I ran through as many insults (that Mello has yelled at me) as I could remember; a whore, a slut, his bitch, a slag, a dog, useless…worthless. My self-pity was pathetic. I began to imagine when Mello would reappear - when I'd be released from my metallic capture. It could be days, he had done it before. I began to dread the time when I needed to relive myself, if it got too bad, I would have to sacrifice all self respect (ha, not much left to sacrifice really), and it would have to be done on myself. I gagged at the thought. I had never done it before and never planned on it for two reasons; one, it's disgusting and two, what humiliation I would have to go through when Mello would arrive back from the mafia or a bender, which ever. And I could bet all my games and cigarettes that he had gone to either of the two.
Thinking, of my cigarettes didn't do much for me; due to my excessive chain smoking, I depended on the deathly habit. I bent to grab the packet in the pocket of my pants but the devil metal encasing my wrists refused me to get any further than a few centimetres. My cravings made me feel weak, yet I was determined to get them.
My plan to retrieve the box began with me removing my socks with my toes, then carefully sliding my ankles from the jeans. I fumbled with as much are as I could to reach the packet with my feet…it felt so weird. After a few seconds I had a toe-hold on the cold packet. I managed to teach myself quickly how to hold them with one foot, and I had enough luck left to manage to get my cigs balance on my left knee, I was thanking my mother mentally for forcing me to go to gymnastics classes at seven - it finally paid off. I carefully bought my packet of heaven close to my mouth to open it, I managed to open it, yet it fell back on to my stomach, I screamed pointlessly again. I sat silent for a minuet and decided not to give up just yet, god knows how I got it to the floor again and back to my knees, but I did it, I managed to pull one out I smiled, I had something to look forward too - then I nearly prayed for Mello to be back as I realised… I had no way to light the fucker. I let the cigarette drop as I fell back on to the cold grey wall.
I wish I would just die. Mello would usually light me a fag and then leave it in my mouth before he left, this was hell. All I needed was to be fucking un-cuffed or left with a fucking fag. The fucking twat. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself anymore, just how much I hated that son of a fucking bitch. I hadn't got the fucking physical strength to take his blows if I ever stood up to him which made me more fucking pissed off. How could he made me as worthless as he said I was, oh yeh, that was from fucking using me and a fucking sex toy and a pawn in his 'mission to capture Kira', but it wasn't a fucking mission to get Kira at all, but instead a game to beat Near.
I must have fallen asleep to my fuming rage…somehow, because I was woken up by my hands falling to my side as they were released, finally, from their long, evil torture, fuck knows how long I'd been there. "Wake up shithead." I got an insult and a sharp kick in my side. I fished for my cigarettes and lit it, grateful that Mello hadn't tried to stop me, instead he was sat leaning against the wall opposite me. I grabbed my pants, shoved my underwear back on and practically ran to the bathroom, yet of course, I wasn't going to get there before Mello shouted me, "Excuse me Matt, But aren't you going to fucking say thank you that your still fucking alive and I let you have a fucking cigarette?" the words were coasted in pure venom. Something told me that whatever plans Mello had made last night, hadn't followed through to his liking or Near was one step ahead…like usual.
"Thank you Mello," I agreed, my head bowed, my cigarette held between my lips. I didn't mean I single syllable of the thank you. "you're so fucking pathetic Matt, why do you even bother living? Do you want me to just shoot you now?" He managed through a mouthful of chocolate. I shook my head, "please don't shoot me Mello," for fucks sake, even now I thought I sounded pathetic, I don't think I'd ever been that pathetic…ever. "Miserable excuse for a fucking human aren't you?" He was sneering at me again and I hated it. I nodded, I was really.
I turned to head for the bathroom to finish my cigarette in peace and to finally relieve myself. I tried to think positively, if I was lucky I might not even have to be his sex slave for another twelve hours, meaning twelve hours to fill me with enough nicotine to last me for a week. I prayed that my wish of the twelve hours would come true, or even for the 'nicer' version of Mello to come back.