Matt cringes inwardly as his fingers ghost over Mello's shoulder, his lips set in a thin line as the other man whimpers beneath him. He has to sit back and roll his eyes up to the ceiling, anything just to get the sight of charred and ruined skin out of his mind. "Jesus, Mello..."
"Jesus didn't have anything to do with it this time," the blond responds, shifting his position. "Why the fuck are you stopping? It feels good." He grabs Matt's hand again and forces it back on to his neck, urging the man to apply some sort of pressure, some sort of recognition.
Matt tries to continue but in the next instant he's standing up and shaking his head. "I can't... It'll just hurt even more. You're disgusting, Mello." A bitter laugh escapes the injured man's lips following this, and he raises his head only slightly.
"That's the way you like me, isn't it?"
I'm still here, right?
It takes all Matt has not to drop to his knees and cry.