The Dog Days
Miya's Note: I wrote this one for a contest the MyCrimsonRose13 was holding over at LJ quite a while back, and just kept forgetting to post it until now.
I won! *happy dances*
Not much to say this time. Uhm, I'm not dead, obviously. I'm still working on Twisted Religion, The Mannequin Garden, and Parallel Threes, so though they may take forever to be updated, they're not dead, promise.
Oh, and this one's fairly lighthearted, and made to be mostly a comedy, so don't take it too seriously. XD
Well, I guess that's it. Enjoy! *gives free digital hugs*
Summer could easily be considered Mello's absolute least favorite time of year.
Matt, on the other hand, loved it, and for every reason Mello gave for despising the season, Matt had an equally compelling reason to adore it.
Mello, for example, hated the fact that summer temperatures made wearing lots of leather very uncomfortable, and he usually had to change into something lighter, or simply wear less. Either that, or risk going insane in the heat; a drippy, sweaty, sticky kind of insanity that he felt was far less attractive than his normal brand of suave ex-Mafioso craziness.
Matt, in contrast, loved the fact that the heat gave him an excuse to run around half-naked at all times, and loved even more that he could often convince Mello to do the same, since a drippy, sweaty, sticky Mello was no less attractive in his eyes.
Mello hated that summer heat meant summer sweat, and summer sweat meant wasting time and water on showers. Matt liked showers, because they meant that he could get Mello fully naked--even better than his being half-naked--and that, if he begged hard enough, he could climb in with the blond and they could do lots of fun things involving their nakedness without Mello complaining about getting even sweatier.
Mello despised that summer equaled melted chocolate. Matt liked melted chocolate, because he liked melted chocolate on Mello, or, better yet, on him, being licked off by Mello. Matt would often pilfer bars of the confection for exactly that purpose, hiding them in places in the apartment that were as conspicuously far away from refrigerators and air conditioning as possible, which annoyed Mello to no end.
This, in turn, led to "punishment", which led to chocolate-covered bodies, which led to more showers and more nakedness, which Matt enjoyed very much.
Mello hated summer because the heat made him tired and cranky and unproductive, and took away a lot of the willpower he had to fight against Kira and to fight against…well, anything, really. Matt especially loved this, because it meant that Mello was far less prone to argue against him, which meant that the blond was docile, and vulnerable, and far more likely to let him do all sorts of things he wouldn't normally let him do, which usually led to aforementioned bouts of insanely pleasing nakedness.
Mello, most of all, hated that the summer tuned Matt into some kind of crazed horn-dog.
Matt didn't see what the problem was.
It wasn't that Mello didn't enjoy sex--Quite the contrary, thank you--nor was it that he didn't enjoy sex with Matt as much as Matt seemed to enjoy it with him. Matt, however, seemed to be getting the impression otherwise, since Mello was always complaining and trying to avoid sexual contact with any excuse possible, like some kind of hormonal girl.
Of course, every time Matt thought that, he tended to start thinking in tangents that either involved wanting to check (hands on, of course) for the fortieth time to make sure Mello was the gender that he said he was, or to reminisce about girls he'd slept with before he had come to terms with the fact that he found his male best friend bitchin' sexy.
The first of these things tended to lead in circles, since checking Mello's gender involved getting him all naked again, which just led back to more hormonal girl behavior. The second of these, however, generally did well to remind Matt that the girls he'd been with had very rarely been the type to refuse sex like girls were stereotypically portrayed to do, just like Mello was definitely not the "average" guy (like Matt), who seemed to jump at sex at every possible moment. Because of this reasoning, the first option was generally ruled unnecessary, since Matt remembered that Mello just acted like Mello, and there was no reason to doubt that various organs on the man's body were fake.
It did, however, piss Mello off when Matt called him a girl, and since Mello was more docile when it was hot, it usually just meant that Mello would get irked, strip down to "prove himself", and then let himself get molested for the sheer sake of Matt's amusement.
It was one of those times. At over 100 degrees outside, and not much better inside with the crappy air conditioning, Mello couldn't find the energy to argue with threats of physical abuse when Matt sidled up to him at his perch on the edge of the bed, the most blatant and swarthy of shit-eating grins plastered on his face, and crooned at him with the regular, "Awww, Mello…you never want to have any fun. What is it? Headache? I swear, sometimes I feel like you're my wife or something."
"Fuck off," Mello hissed back, attempting to scoot farther away on the bed, though he was nearing the headboard quickly, and the Ethernet cord attached to the laptop on his legs was almost at its end.
Mello realized the mistake immediately.
"That's the problem!" Matt wailed dramatically. "The fucking of the off! You never want to!"
Mello growled back.
"Are you suuuure you're not really a girl? Huh? You sure you haven't been masterfully hiding something from me all of these years I've known you?"
"If I'd managed that, I'd wonder how the hell you ever got into Wammy's. Dumbass."
"I think you should let me do a thorough examination to make sure."
"No. You tried this one a few days ago."
"I still think you're trying to hide something…maybe I missed it. I mean, brilliant Mello, smartest at Wammy's--no Near could compare, babe--could surely fool a lowly Matt."
"Flattery won't work either."
"You know you want to." Matt sidled up close again, and Mello squished himself against the headboard, the laptop balanced precariously on his knees. "Beside, I think it's fair to say that I can assume you're a girl until proven otherwise. I mean, that pretty hair, and those delicately angled features, and those slender, womanly fingers on the keyboard…"
Mello stopped typing and looked at his hands, and then had to catch the laptop when it tried to fall.
"…I think I'm gonna call you my girlfriend, until you show me otherwise."
"You've SLEPT with me! You KNOW I'm a man, you asshole!"
Matt put a hand on his forehead, and leaned back a little, crying into the stuffy apartment air as if it were an audience. "My girlfriend never wants to have sex with me! What kind of man am I, that I can't get my girlfriend aroused enough to drop what she's doing and…"
"Holy Mother of…Matt, just fucking strip me and get it over with."
"Score!"
What came next was what had the tendency to confuse Matt the most. Mello--and he knew the routine before it even happened--would shut the laptop and place it delicately on the ground behind the bed. Then, he would flop back onto the mattress exasperatedly, pull Matt close, and kiss the redhead speechless, while Matt fumbled with the very little tight leather left on the blond's body, because of the heat.
Then, they would have sex, and Matt would make fun of Mello farther for always wanting to be on the bottom, like a girl, even when he was trying to prove his masculinity, and Mello would reply that he simply didn't really give a flying fuck what Matt thought, and liked bottom because he didn't have to do all the work, since it was Matt who wanted so badly to screw in the first place.
"Beside, you think I'm sexy either way, so fuck me harder, you bitch." ." He said that with a smirk and a playful flick to the side of Matt's head.
Matt adored summer, but the one thing he hated about it, above all else, was that Mello's behavior during the season confused him to all hell.
Matt figured that his own intentions were about as clear as they could get. He wanted Mello, he wanted him bad, and he wanted him now.
But Mello always started off like he wanted nothing to do with Matt, and then would finally give in, and he'd act like the other man meant more than the world to him.
After the joking was over, after Mello asserted his complete and utter dominance from the bottom up, and after Mello made it damned plain that he was only giving in because Matt was getting on his nerves, there would always be that strange moment where everything would shift.
Suddenly, and for what appeared to be for no logical reason whatsoever, the blond would seem to have some sort of wave of pleasure take him over, and then he would be moaning and crying and begging Matt's name like it was salvation from certain death or from eternal damnation, and then he would be clawing into his lover's back, whispering feelings that most of the world wouldn't believe Mello could feel, and which Matt was often convinced were some kind of sick joke--"Oh God…Matt…I need you. No…no, don't stop…don't you ever fucking stop, or I'll kill you…I love you too fucking much to let this end…"--and then he would be convulsing in waves of sweet release, and it was always the most beautiful thing Matt had ever seen.
And then Mello would caress the red hair hanging around the face of the man above him until his arm finally went limp and he fell asleep, mumbling about how the threats were meaningless, but the rest was not, and Matt never knew if he were lying or telling the truth.
One of the things that Mello truly hated about summer was how easy it always was for Matt to let go. Matt's persona always seemed so fitting with the lazy heat of summer. Even working on the Kira case--and he could never get angry at Matt for it--the redhead would multitask, sucking on cigarette after cigarette without ever realizing how many he was smoking, looking at more monitors than was necessary and far more than was efficient, cameras on some, and games and the web on others. It always seemed so easy for him to let go--to not care as much as Mello couldn't help but to care more about the case than about his life itself.
There was something naïve and charmingly childish about the younger's come-ons. He'd drop everything out of some kind of base distraction, and then ask Mello, with far more innocence than was really appropriate for something so sexual, to do the same.
Mello could never keep himself from fighting it.
Fighting was all he knew how to do anymore.
But Matt's nonchalant attitude was fading, and fast, because he didn't understand it.
It took over ten times of the routine going on and on in the same fashion before Matt finally realized he was fed up. It may have been a little bit malicious to take advantage of the situation, but Matt was long awake and aware, while Mello was just waking back up, and his eyes were groggy and his mind wasn't up to it's usual dangerous level yet, so the redhead took the opportunity to use Mello's sleepiness to his advantage.
"Why?"
"Mmmn?"
"If you don't want to screw, why do you always let me talk you into it?"
Mello groaned and shoved his face into his pillow. "Because you're annoying."
Matt was not deterred. "Well, then explain all the really fucking sexy desperation and the really fucking confusing declarations of your undying love for me and all that."
Mello flipped onto his back, sat up, and swung his legs off of the side of the bed. "I have to piss. If you'll excuse me."
"NO!"
Mello stopped, and turned around annoyedly. "I'm not allowed to pee?"
"No, you're not allowed to avoid the subject," Matt huffed.
"Well, follow me if you want an answer so badly," the blond snapped back, turning again and walking into the bathroom.
Matt did.
It was awkward. "Mello, I don't think I can have this conversation whilst watching you pee."
"Well, my apologies, but somebody slammed my prostate into my bladder a few hundred times before I fell asleep, and I've finally started to feel the after-effects. It isn't my fault you needed to talk to me as soon as I woke up."
Matt's face fell. He stared at the bathroom wall opposite of the toilet.
When he was sure that Mello was thoroughly finished, Matt chanced a look back. The blond was standing in front of him with his fists on his hips, completely confident, despite being completely nude. "Now what is it that's bothering you so much that you felt the need to ambush me while I was half asleep?" Mello asked. "And don't think you can hide what you were trying to do. You were trying to interrogate me while I was vulnerable. I know you."
Matt sighed, looking suddenly far more uncomfortable in his own skin than Mello as he turned away. "It's nothing. Nevermind."
Mello stopped him before he could walk out. "Hey, I may be an abrasive, insensitive prick, but I know when something's got you down." The blond pulled Matt close to him, and kissed the side of his neck.
"You're gonna get hot if you keep me like this, and it's gonna make you all sweaty and gross."
"I'll deal with it, if you will."
"I'm just…I'm not sure what you're thinking sometimes. One minute, you're basically trying to kick my face in to get me away from you, and the next you're telling me all of these wonderful things, and I don't know what to believe."
Mello sighed. "And you say I'm the girly one."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The blond responded in a mocking, effeminate tone. "Oh, I don't know how Mello feels about me! I don't know if he looooves me!"
"Hey, I resent that! My fears are perfectly justified! You're just confusing!"
The blond chuckled. "Of course I love you, you wanker, or I wouldn't put up with all of your ADD when I'm trying to work."
"It's ADHD, thank you."
"That's beside the point. Let's go sit on the bed."
When they sat down, Mello let Matt clutch possessively at his midsection, even though the body heat was, indeed, making him sweaty. "Sooo, does this mean you're gonna let me do whatever I want to you?" the redhead sneered.
"You wish. I already let you get away with enough."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
Mello narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Like letting you sadistically rip the hair out of my chest with hot wax because you don't want to feel emasculated by the fact that, even though I'm the pretty one, I can grow manly hair and you can't."
"Don't forget the other hair you let me rip out."
"How could I?" the blond groaned, looking down into his lap.
"You know you enjoy the pain."
"Oh, I do."
Matt grinned fondly.
"Alright, Matt, let's be serious for a moment. Enough talk about my pubes for now."
"You brought it up."
"Again, beside the point. Look, I have a couple of reasons for pushing you away, and they'll probably make me sound like an asshole to admit."
"You always sound like an asshole."
"Touché." Mello pushed Matt down on the bed and drew lazy circles on his chest as he continued, leaning on one elbow. "You should know by now that it's really hard for me to let go."
"Uh, yeah. I gathered."
"Do you know why that is?"
"Why?"
"Because I've learned, over time, to care more about vengeance than about anything else."
Matt sighed, his mouth turning downward. "That means me, too, doesn't it?"
"Sometimes, it would seem that way."
Matt didn't respond to that.
"I'm selfish, too, though, and it's that part of me, believe it or not, that can't help but to care."
"That makes no sense."
"Think about it, Matt. The part of me that a lot of people would mark as selfless is the part of me set on catching Kira. It is the part of me made of blind determination. It's the part of me that doesn't have time for sex, or love, or you." He looked at the sheets, unable to make eye contact, but, at the same time, Mello had begun to smile, strangely soft and distant. "But the selfish side of me is the one that wants to be recognized for what I've given up. In a way, it's the same side of me that wants to overcome and destroy Near, not Kira, that's the side of me that wants to get and relish in all of the attention that you give me. And just like I can never really bring myself to just take Near out of the picture once and for all, by whatever means, because I enjoy the battle too much…I can never really allow myself to give into you, because I enjoy the way you always come back to me when I strike you down."
"Wow, that does make you sound like an ass."
Mello noted that Matt sounded amused, not angry, and tilted his head questioningly.
"You know, if you're an asshole, so am I. I've been jealous of Near for a while, because you're so fucking obsessed with him…"
"With beating him. Don't make it sound like I've got a crush on the fucker."
"Yeah, yeah. Either way, you have to admit that he takes up a lot of your time. Him, and Kira. I don't like it when other people distract you from me. Call me possessive, but it feels nice to know that I'm up there at the top of the jerk-list."
"Really, now?"
Matt leaned up on his elbow, too, facing the blond on the bed, and scooted up as close as he could, so that their faces were touching and Mello could see the sneer in his eyes. "Yeah. And, you know what?"
"Hmm?" Mello hummed, pushing their noses together with a grin.
"You're not the only masochist in this relationship. It's kind of hot to know you've been striking me down all this time, to get me to prove I'm subordinate and loyal to you."
"Oh, you like being my dog?"
"I'll come back, no matter how many times you take me down, asshole. If that means anything."
"I guess I'll just have to try harder to get rid of you from now on, then?"
"Go ahead and try. I won't go easy."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Oh, yes."
"You know how I love a good challenge."
Matt crashed their mouths together, pushing Mello onto his back and climbing on top of him with a bit of a throaty growl. "You'll always be bottom, though."
"I don't have to top you to control you. Mutt."
"Cunt."
"Fucker."
"Bitch."
"Don't you ever stop, Matt," Mello growled into Matt's neck. "I need you to keep being this…this beautiful, annoying, ADHD creature that you are, and don't you ever fucking stop or I'll kill you…I love you too much to let this end."
"There's some melted chocolate on the radiator. Wanna play?"
"God, I hate you. That's more like it."
Matt grinned. "I hate you, too, Princess."