Bluebells
By Miyamashi
Miya's Note: This was written (quite a while ago…I kept forgetting to submit it here) as part of my entry for the MelloXMatt Valentines contest at Deviantart. The other part was a short animation, which you can find at my DA at miyamashi(dot)deviantart(dot)com.
The idea of the contest was to base some kind of Valentine's themed entry on the lyrics of a song. I chose an excerpt from "Bluebells" by the amazingly talented Patrick Wolf. My idea for the fic part of my entry was more than a little unorthodox, especially considering Valentine's Day is in February, and the lyrics are talking about December, but there's a reason for that, really.
Also, because the fic has a Valentine's theme in it, but actually doesn't take place AT Valentine's day, it's safe to read any time of year. Hurrah!
I hope you all enjoy.
You were my husband,
my wife,
my heroin.
Now this is our final December…
Mello flinched a little in front of the laptop's screen as the bedroom door opened behind him. He would have to remember, in the future, not to leave his back so open. He glanced behind him to make sure that the person who'd entered was no intruder, having to stop his hand from reaching instinctively for his gun.
It was only Matt, of course.
Mello sighed, and went back to what he had been doing before, picking up the laptop as he did and turning around on the bed so that he was facing the door and had good view of the window.
"You've gotten jumpy," was the first thing Matt said, as if Mello wanted to hear what he already knew.
The redhead watched his blond partner's face, lit up with the sickly green-blue glow of the monitor, form into a harsh scowl, the scar tissue around his eye crunching together in a way that had to be painful after so little time healing.
"Mello, I worry about you."
"Well, don't." was all Mello said back, as he continued typing.
"You're still not up to your full strength after the blast." Matt sat down on the bed and looked at the screen, though he didn't really pay attention to whatever records were on it. "If you keep overworking yourself like this, you're gonna make yourself sick. You need to relax. Beside, do you even know what day it is?"
"I don't care. All that matters is catching that fucker, Kira."
"Mello, it's your birthday, you know. You're 21. Legal drinking age?" Matt chanced a chuckle, setting one gloved hand on Mello's shoulder, as if coaxing the other man to relax.
Mello's hands stilled on the keys, and he paused for a very long time before finally closing the laptop and setting it on the mattress beside him. He stared down at his knees. "I'm not going to a bar or anything. I can't afford to have alcohol…weaken me even farther."
"I'm not asking you to go out anywhere. All I want is for you to take a little time for yourself for once. Give yourself a chance to heal a little. Get some of that tension out. You're usually not this strung-up. I don't like it."
Mello finally turned toward Matt. "You afraid I'm going to take it out on you?" he taunted.
"Maybe a little." The redhead grinned. He reached up and ran a gloved thumb over Mello's cheek fondly. "Happy birthday."
Mello's body sighed into the touch, and then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against the redhead's, mouthing the words "Thank you."
"And Merry Christmas."
The blond's expression changed, perplexed. "Matt, that isn't until almost two weeks from now."
"I know. And guess what? Happy new year." Matt watched for a reaction, smiling.
Mello seemed to be trying not to laugh. "What the hell are you getting at, you dumbass?"
The gamer leaned forward and whispered in Mello's ear. "And even happy Valentine's Day."
Mello's eyes closed as Matt ran kisses down his jaw. "You're a fucking weirdo."
Matt held Mello's chin and locked their gazes together, his expression turning sad and serious. "Mello, the reason I'm saying this is the same reason I want you to take some time every once in a while to relax. The way things are now, we could die any day out there, and it's obvious you know that as well as I do, especially seeing the way you flinched when I came into the room. I am so happy that we even made it to your 21st birthday. I'll be even happier if we make it to Christmas; amazed if we live to see the new year."
Mello's shoulders relaxed, and he allowed himself a slight, surprisingly tender smile. Matt thought it was beautiful.
"I don't even really like Valentine's Day," the redhead continued. "It's over-commercialized and sickening and really, really…pink. But, you know, I've never really ever gotten to celebrate it with you, and I don't know if I ever will, so I'm doing it now."
Mello's smile turned devious. "Did you get me any chocolates for the occasion?"
"In the kitchen."
The sound that followed that was a rare one, surely. Mello started to laugh; a true and uninhibited chuckle. He fell back on the bed, his rosary sliding over his chest and bunching up around his neck. He tugged on Matt's shirt for him to follow, and the other man did, wrapping an arm around Mello's waist.
"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too, Matt." Mello ran a hand through the red hair on his partner's head. "And happy birthday, too. Just in case."
It was a rare moment of peace during tumultuous times, but after that, Mello made a promise to try to take the occasional moment for himself and for Matt. Holidays, though they were few and far between, became a special time from then on, and though Matt often had to remind Mello that they had arrived, the blond would stop whatever he was doing for that day, and reserve it for celebrating life and making love.
It was all they could do to keep sane, but Matt was glad for it nonetheless, and glad that Mello still had time to love at all.
They made it to Christmas.
The new year came as it always did.
Matt, however, never turned 21, and Valentine's Day went on without them, over-commercialized, and sickening, and far too pink.
