A/N: Sorry I haven't been posting for a couple days guys! Been somewhat busy with other things. I think that this is probably one of my favorite lemons I've written, mainly because of the sex scene and Mello's sweetness afterwards. He can be loving dammit! In a sarcastic, Mello kind of way. Also, this will be my piece for Valentine's Day. I think the end is romantic in its own way.
Reflection
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its respective characters. However I do own Layla Levandi and the writing as seen here, please do not use them without my permission.
Vanity was Mello's favorite sin. He supposed its was not a very Christian-like thing to admit, that he favored a sin above others. He should be virtuous, this he knew, and he repented as much as he felt was needed. But when it came to vanity Mello was weak.
But was not his vanity he favored it was hers.
She's such a vain, impetuous creature, his little Kiska.
That was why the mirror was too irresistible for him not to purchase. He'd seen it one day in Rodeo Drive on a trip to pick up his coat from being mended.
It was a wooden, full body mirror. The kind that flipped over to reveal another mirror, slightly magnified. It reminded Mello of the mirror his mother had used in her ballet studio, elegantly stretching out long, pale milky limbs in front of her reflection.
So when Mello came home, carting the mirror into his and Layla's cramped studio flat she didn't seem too amused.
"Exactly what is that?" she sneered.
"A reflective piece of glass. People use them to see themselves, something you're all too familiar with." he replied, curtly.
"We have a perfectly good mirror in the bathroom." she stated plainly.
"This one will be going in the bedroom." Mello said cheerfully. It had been meant as a joke, but Layla never really understood Mello's dry sense of humor.
Now, she seemed intrigued.
"Why?" she asked, peering over his shoulder into the glass.
Mello's blue eyes flickered up at hers in the reflection briefly, "To watch us."
Her gray eyes seemed to cloud with misunderstanding. "Watch...us?" she said thickly, as if she were trying to spit out words past a clod of thick cream.
Mello rolled his eyes, impatient with her slowness.
"Yes, watch us. We can watch ourselves."
Still, the Estonian woman shot him a confused look, "Why would we want to do that?"
"Because," he said slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child, "It will make things more...exciting."
Now, understanding flooded in her face and cheeks, turning her a rosy shade of pink.
"No."
Mello couldn't help the annoyance that shone on his face. "Why not?"
"B-Because!" she spluttered, "I-I-I can't! That's so..so..."
She let out a strangled noise, hiding her face in her fingers in a way that both annoyed and charmed Mello.
He took this opportunity to snatch at her waist with his leather covered fingers, nipping neatly at her hipbone. Layla squealed, and placed both of her hands on Mello's head, attempting to push him off of her.
"No, no! Mello...please!" she hissed.
Mello pulled his lips away, and for a moment Layla breathed out a sigh of relief. But then he swept his leg out and knocked into her own, causing her to fall into him.
Then, he moved in for the kill.
Because she was so new at having such, affectionate gestures, Mello was grateful that she was not difficult to distract.
He slid his hand firmly around her jaw, tilting her head at just the right angle so that he could have full access to her mouth. Mello peppered her lips with quick hasty kisses, and she let out heated little sighs in between each one.
Her tongue darted out to taste the bottom of his lips, clumsy and shy.
She was always so innocent when it to came to him, so inexperienced. He was still getting used to being with her, touching her, simply belonging to her. The thought made his mouth crick as he lowered his lips to her collarbone. He did belong to her in a way, not like anyone else could put up with as much as she did regarding him.
Layla let out a sharp gasp as Mello's hand found the sensitive spot right between her breasts, a spot that never failed to send goosebumps trailing up her skin.
"Mello, don't..." she murmured, though it was halfhearted now, Layla's fingers trailing mildly in Mello's golden strands as he kissed down her chest as far as her tank top would allow.
"Why?" he whispered, the heat of his breath being enough to make a low cry fall from her lips.
"Be...because..." she whimpered, stopped by Mello's fingers going up her stomach, dancing over her skin.
"Don't you like having sex with me?" Mello inquired, lifting up the lace tank top. "Ah, but wait," he added, "you haven't had sex with me enough. We've only played twice..."
It was true too. They hadn't gotten a chance to explore each other as much as Mello himself would have liked. He was busy with stalking Kira and planning his mafia business, so intimate time with Layla was few and far between.
He supposed too, that in a way he liked the fact that Layla was still innocent, untainted by anyone. The clumsy way her hands touched him, the inexperienced press of her lips on his skin, scared and shy.
But, he supposed she'd have to learn one way or another and as he shucked off her shirt he thought wryly that perhaps this mirror would be a good teacher's aid.
Suddenly, Mello heard the front door open and Matt's cheerful voice, "Layla, come on, we need to go grocery shopping!"
Layla squirmed away from Mello's grasp as he let out a soft groan. "Fuck the goddamned shopping."
"I promised." she said softly, pulling on her tank top again.
Mello's fingers gripped tightly at her hips, half considering shooting Matt for interrupting what he was sure would have been a wonderful session.
She leaned up to kiss his lips, in that clumsy, inexperienced way.
"You had better come back, fast." he muttered, trying to ignore the sparks that were flying into his loins.
Layla only smiled at him and strode out the door, where he could hear her talk amicably to Matt, however, he was pleased when he heard her speak a soft command.
"We have to get back pretty quickly okay? I'm painting, and I'd like finish."
Painting indeed, he thought as the door closed sharply.
Mello leaned against the wall, his eyes easing closed as his hands wondered down to untie the laces on his pants.
His fingers slipped against the silken skin of his sex and he bit back a sigh.
Bright blue eyes flickered to the mirror and Mello watched his hips, still slung with leather pants as they bucked greedily into his hands.
Slowly, if he concentrated his fingers became Layla's, stroking him in that sweet, clumsy way.
She breathed heatedly against his skin as he moaned into his shoulder, images of Layla in various throws of passion underneath him. The way her eyes would look at him so desperately, such want fluttering in her features while that deep blush flickered all the way down her thighs.
His fingers slid over his sex faster and faster as images of Layla burned behind his eyes.
The way she thrusted her head back, gripping at the pillow as she cried out for Mello, and he could recall, with almost startling exactness, how whenever she climaxed she would pull him close to her.
The memory of her small hands pressing hard against his shoulder blades and the equal pressure he was exerting with his fingers sent him careening over the edge.
He cried out her name, wantonly, as hot sticky liquid spilled into his palms and up on his leather vest.
Mello shuddered almost compulsively for a few moments breathing shallowly and aggravated that his want for Layla was still as strong and powerful as it usually was.
Grumbling, he pulled off his mussed clothes to roam nude into the bathroom where turned on the hot water, sighing as he let steam fill the tiny bathroom.
The water was mercifully hot and Mello couldn't help but let out a sigh as he stepped into the shower. Pellets of steaming, hot water hit, and rolled off his back and Mello thrust his head back. The water rained achingly over his face and he ran his hands through his hair, thoroughly dampening his golden hair, turning it a darkening shade of copper.
He was so focused on rubbing suds of soap over his body that he didn't even notice that someone had stepped in the bath behind him.
However, he did notice the warm hands that slipped over his stomach. Mello jumped, suds of soap fluttering off his shoulders. Peering over his scarred shoulders he saw Layla peering up at him, long brown hair stuck wetly to her face.
"Fuck are you doing?" he snapped, a little harsher than he intended.
Her hands slipped inward to slip down his thighs and he could feel the warmth of her lips flitting down his spine.
"Mmm, I came home fast enough eh?" she purred between kisses.
"No," Mello sneered halfheartedly, "You left me wanting. I fuckin' hate that."
"I'm here to make up for it though." she said, attempting to mask a soft giggle.
Her hands now slid up his pectoral muscles, the pads of her fingers stroking his nipples softly. The slick friction made him flush, and his hands slid up to press over her own, stopping her frenzied stroking.
"You have a lesson to learn." he murmured, turning around to push her against the wall of the shower.
Layla blanched, and Mello bit back a smirk. "You're not in trouble, Kiska...though you should be for leaving me so desperate. No, our lesson will be very fun."
She glanced at him warily, then nodded as she stood up on her tiptoes, attempting to kiss him. Playfully, Mello tilted his head away from her until a needy whimper fell from her lips.
"So impatient." he murmured, leaning down to graze her lips with his own. His tongue darted out to taste her and she let out a warm moan against his lips.
Her hands slid over his cheeks, pulling him closer to her and he tightened his arms around her waist. Unabashedly his sex hardened against her pelvis and he sighed, pulling away from her. She was making it difficult though, the way she moved with him as he attempted to pull away from her.
Mello let out a sigh, "Let go."
"Don't want to," she purred, pressing against his neck.
Mello tried not to feel the warm wetness of her skin as she pressed her body to him, the way her breasts crushed against his chest and her tiny hands curled over his collarbone. If she kept it up, Mello knew they'd never get a chance to enjoy that lesson he had planned for her.
"Let me wash you." he said softly, pulling away from her and shoving her into the shower of water that ran in the tub.
Mello washed her carefully, letting his hands slide over her skin and through her hair with surprising quickness. Once he had deemed her clean enough, Mello turned off the water and pulled the fluffy towel down from the shower curtain rod.
He dried her first, then himself before ushering both of them out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
She perched on the edge of the bed and flushed heartily when Mello pushed the mirror in front of her nude figure.
"Mello!" she squealed, "Wha-What are you doing?"
"Lesson." he stated calmly, moving to position himself to sit behind her, pulling her so that his chest was pressed against her back.
She now hid her face against his neck, the flush fluttering down her chest beautifully in the reflection in the mirror.
"Look." Mello purred, pulling up her hair to coax her into looking at the reflection.
Layla squinted distastefully at the reflection, then buried her head in Mello's neck again.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Mello glanced at the reflection, then ran his fingers over the coffee colored peaks on her breasts, peppering a kiss over the small half moon birthmark on the back of her shoulder.
He thought they looked fine, she could be awfully shy when she wanted to be.
"Why're you hiding?" he murmured.
"I don't want to see myself naked." she stated plainly, sparing another glance at the reflection.
"Why? You spend so much time in the mirror." he teased, tapping his fingertips on her belly.
"Yes, but I'm clothed. And besides, its only to fix my hair."
Mello blinked, that was true. Layla didn't wear much makeup other than thick black eyeliner and occasional lipgloss. The only thing he'd ever recalled seeing her do in the mirror was fix her hair.
"So what's the difference between being clothed, and being naked?"
She gave a halfhearted shrug, her pale, bony shoulders bumping his chin. "Its just weird. It makes me uncomfortable."
"You've been naked in front of me a few times, you didn't seem uncomfortable then."
"Its...different, because between us there is..." she faltered then, shaking her head sharply and let out a huff. Mello could tell from years of being around her and teaching her english that she was having trouble finding the word for whatever was between them.
"It is different because, we are kirglik...like...emotional...with our lust."
"Passionate," Mello supplied, nuzzling the softness her neck, pressing hot kisses into the skin there.
"Mmm, yes." she said thickly, and Mello was pleased when Layla's hand rose up to finger his damp blond hair.
"So why does being naked bother you when you're alone?" he pressed.
Layla shot him a dark look, then shook her head.
"Answer me." he snapped. He absolutely loathed when she'd do that, shut him out and fall silent. She never liked to talk about anything regarding what she felt or wanted, making Mello often more frustrated with her than he would be with anyone else.
"Sin." she said after a moment, "My mother, she never allowed us to be unclothed for long periods of time, being unclothed without you makes me feel guilty.
Layla's mother was beginning to be another thing Mello was starting to loathe, with every little thing she chose to reveal about her religious, fanatic mother, he was starting to like the woman less and less.
But, it made him uncomfortable, to see Layla all scraped and raw like this, so mind numbingly fragile in his arms. He'd never been good with anything that could break easily, anything like that slipped out of his hands and shattered.
"Well, I'm here now." he said gruffly, "So no guilt."
She nodded against his neck and Mello sighed, "Let's begin our lesson Kiska,"
He slipped his hands over hers, then teasingly coaxed her fingers to stroke herself with faint, feathered touches.
"It isn't a race." he murmured in her ears. "Sometimes it can be, but most of the time its more rewarding to prolong the feeling."
When he was certain she understood the pacing, he pulled his hands away from her. His lust soaked fingers reached up to fondle her breasts and she whimpered.
The sight of her pleasuring herself in the mirror excited him to no end, and Mello studied the way her muscles flexed underneath her thighs. His sex throbbed against her back and he let out a soft moan at the sight of her pressed against his chest.
"But, after a while of this," he said softly, "you'll begin to go crazy. So every once in a while, reward yourself with a firmer touch."
Mello pressed his hands over her own again and guided her index finger to stroke firmly at the sensitive spot inside of her folds before coaxing her to touch the area lightly again.
He contented himself with watching her again, admiring the pale sheen of her skin against his slightly lighter complexion. His tongue darted outwards to taste the sweat on her neck and the heat of her body made the scent of the soap rise off her in waves.
Her hips were beginning to buck and Mello eased his hands over hers pushing them away.
He buried a slender finger inside of her and stroked her firmly with the edge of his thumb.
Layla let out a keening cry then, her hand going out to grip at his knee, long manicured nails scraping the flesh there.
"Mello," she panted gutturally, "I can't stand it anymore."
He smirked, "Then you've learned your lesson well."
Mello pulled away from her, reaching over to their bedside table to fish out a condom that he slipped on hastily. After giving her lips a quick kiss, he turned her, so that she was facing away from the mirror, then impaled her on his aching, throbbing sex.
The scream she let out was so heated and sensual that it was a wonder that Mello didn't release on the spot.
Mello rocked her back and forth, sliding himself inside of her, the ache of her clenching around him, passionate and hot.
His eyes flickered upwards to watch them in the mirror, admiring the way her long brown hair was tangled in his fingers and the elegant curve of her spine as she moved in tandem with his hips.
The edge of her lips found his jawline and he groaned, tearing his eyes away from their nude reflection. He returned his eyes to her and pressed his foreheads to hers, little gasps of pleasure intermingling in one another as Mello watched the exquisite change of expressions on her features.
Sweat stuck their hair together and Mello marveled at the amount of body fluid they shared. He captured her lips in a kiss again, tongues intermingling for a brief moment until Layla broke away from him to moan, dampening his thighs with her arousal.
He was close now, so close. The tightness in his pelvis was becoming almost unbearable and he reached down to stroke at her sensitive spot, trying to send her over the edge at the same moment he would as well.
When she clawed at his shoulders Mello knew he was done for, he let her name slip from his lips and spilled hopelessly into the condom as he thrusted. His thighs became incredibly damp with her lust and she shuddered in his arms as they thrusted uselessly against each other.
For a moment, they both became incredibly still, and Mello could hear the faint sound of the neighbor's television murmuring next door.
Finally, Layla swallowed and gazed up at him through her eyelashes. "Mello...you're trembling."
He pressed his cheek to her shoulder and stared again at their reflection in the mirror, watching a bead of sweat roll off his nose and onto her back.
Then he leaned away and placed a soft, shuddering kiss on her lips. "I'll...I'll be alright."
He arranged her carefully on the pillow before discarding the used condom in the trash.
Soft, blue eyes flickered down over her form, and he watched her shiver as a short gust of wind seeped through the cracks in the wall.
Layla ignored it though, and reached out a hand to caress his hip with the tips of her fingers making Mello's chest tighten and his mouth twitch in a faint smile.
He eased himself down beside her, pulling the thick down comforter over the two of them, revealing in the heat their bodies produced, easily warming them under the blanket. However, Layla shivered again and Mello enfolded her in his arms and sighed when he felt her hands curled underneath his chin. He placed a kiss on the tips of her knuckles, not really knowing why he felt that tightening in his chest when he did so.
She was drifting off to sleep when Mello spoke.
"Lesson two will begin tomorrow."