How Matt Got Into Mello's Pants
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note
Matt kicked open the door to the apartment. Wobbling slightly, he crossed the threshold, arms heaped with freshly laundered stripes, denims, furs and leathers. He made his way towards the couch, nearly falling flat on his face as he stumbled over the various wires that snaked their way through the apartment. Matt dumped the hamper, haphazardly strewing clothes about the couch and floor.
Lighting a cigarette, he collapsed and heaved a great sigh. He absolutely despised laundry days. Perhaps he wouldn't have dreaded it if he and Mello owned their own dryer and washer. Sadly, this was not the case, which turned laundry days into epic feats of hauling ridiculously large hampers of clothes down the street to the shittiest Laundromat anyone has ever laid eyes upon. Every other week Matt trudged down to the Laundromat, cleverly dubbed "Wash 'N' Dry!", where two hours of his life would slip away listening to the sludge, sludge of the spinning washers and the obnoxious ramblings of the local women. It made him want to put a bullet through his skull.
Two cigarettes later and Matt was up sorting clothes and humming some little ditty, ever-present cigarette hanging from his lips. Mine. Mel's. Mine. Mine…Mi-nope, Mel's. Next, he pulled Mello's favorite pair of laced leather pants from the hamper. Eyeing them, he ran his fingers over the cool, shiny leather. A surge of jealously zipped through him as he recalled the way the fabric nearly glued itself to Mello's slim legs, then he felt like an idiot for being jealous of a pair of pants when he frequently had Mello in situations and positions that no mere pair of measly pants could ever accomplish. Naturally, the thought of Mello in his skimpy leather get up led to other thoughts, such as how brilliantly the shiny leather accented the enticing curve of his ass, or the way the material seemed to hug his thighs in all the right places.
A sudden jolt to his loins had him up and about, scanning the various rooms for his partner, a new activity in mind that involved Mello, him and the nearest hard surface that wasn't piled high with trash, sharp objects and computer cables. He poked his auburn head into their room hoping to see the blond sprawled out on the sheets munching on his chocolate, or if he was lucky, ready and waiting for Matt to fuck the shit out of him. Sadly, he was greeted by an empty room. Mello was nowhere in sight.
"Damn you, Mello." Matt grumbled, making his way towards the living room and ignoring his libido. He slumped back to the couch and shot a glare towards the offending leather pants that had inspired his fantasies. Again, he focused on the task at hand, there being no Mello to distract him. Clothes were sorted, folded, then placed in their appropriate drawers and into their shared closet. Finally finished, he plopped down on the bed and relished in a fresh cigarette. He watched the smoke curl around his fingers and suddenly wished the blond was present, bitching at him for smoking in their bed.
Standing, he headed towards the bathroom to shower. On any normal day Mello would spend hours in the bathroom, leaving Matt with the lingering scent of Mello's obscenely delicious shampoo and nothing but frigid water on tap, so, naturally, he would not let this opportunity slip away. A moan caught in his throat has he stepped under the water. How long had it been since he'd had a hot shower? Lazily, he popped the cap to Mello's shampoo and took a wiff, breathing deeply the scent that radiated from the blond.
He could see the golden strands of Mello's hair, then the curve of his neck and shoulder, his slim waist, a prominent hip bone and adorably cute belly button followed by the laces of his leather pants- green eyes snapped open. He blinked, once, twice, then abruptly turned off the tap. Wait…what? Why the fuck am I thinking about Mello's pants?
He stepped out and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. Padding into their room, he threw open the closet and snatched the leather pants from the hanger. The material was cool and slick and undeniably sexy as hell and suddenly, he wished Mello was there to strut around the apartment, bending over playfully and sitting on his lap to disconnect Matt from his first-person shooter. A memory rose- that time he took Mello from behind on the kitchen table, the exact pants he was currently drooling over pulled down just enough to allow entrance. The feel of the leather brushing his thighs, the way Mello was moaning like a bitch in heat. Jesus Christ, Mel, get back here! That libido he restrained earlier was currently rattling its cage.
So he sat. Sat in his towel that was currently tenting, thinking about the many exploits in which he had fucked Mello while he still wore those pants. How the need and want had been so incredibly intense that neither of them had had the patience or the time to strip Mello of those pants. How they always wound up pulled down just enough, or wrapped around his calves and ankles, or maybe pooled at the bend of his knees- whatever the case, they never actually seemed to separate from their owner. Then, for some strange reason, he wondered how Mello felt. He wondered how those pants felt around his knees, or his ankles, or his thighs. How Mello felt as Matt fucked him with those pants on.
Actually…he wondered how those pants felt.
A spark, an idea and Matt jumped up and hurried into the living room. He locked the door and rushed back to the bed room, slamming and locking that door as well. Snatching the pants up, he unwound his towel. It fell to the floor with a soft swish. Cold air assaulted his bare legs. Excitedly, he licked his lips and gripped the pants tighter. He walked to the floor length mirror and stood, staring at thosepants. He held them up to his front, turned to the left, then the right, made a mock-sexy face then nearly burst into giggles. I can't believe I'm doing this.
Lifting one leg, he slowly slid it into the pant leg. The leather ghosted over his skin, sending chills up his back, before it promptly took the shape of his thigh, stretching tight over skin and muscles. His other leg quickly followed. Threading his fingers through the belt loops, he prepped, then hopped and pulled the constricting material over his thighs and hips. Gasping, his eyes bugged for an instant as his legs were gripped like a vice. Holy shit, these things are fucking tight. Eyebrows knit in concentration, he again performed the "hop-yank" maneuver. Three more attempts at the "hop-yank" maneuver and the pants were up around his hips and butt, nearly suffocating him.
He stood straight like a board and carefully waddled to face the mirror. The pants must have been tailored or something because they strangled Matt's legs like nothing ever had. He could hardly walk in them yet Mello strutted about like a fucking supermodel with no difficulty whatsoever. He hadn't thought that he and Mello were too different in clothing sizes, though it was obvious that Mello was slightly thinner, if even that. The pants, however, said otherwise. The laces still remained to be tied, the two flaps of leather pulled into a wide 'V', the woven tie taunt against his lower abdomen, auburn hair and his cock peeking out . On the opposite side Matt was pretty sure the crack of his ass was fully exposed. How the hell does he do this? Matt wondered, gulping down air as he carefully moved about. Perhaps he wouldn't have looked half bad had the pants actually fit him, though the fact remained: No man pulled off leather like Mello did and Mello knew it.
The front door slammed open and Matt jumped. Eyes wide, he turned towards the mirror to look at his leather clad legs. Mello is going to fucking kill me! Near panicking, he grasped the belt loops and urgently pulled down. The material rolled down the curve of his ass, slightly down his hips and then inconveniently stopped. Another tug, then a pull and the pants still remained, refusing to budge.
"Matt!?" Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Desperately, he began to shimmy and hop around the room, trying to tug the pants gently off his legs. He "hop-yanked" in reverse, then pressed his legs tight and tried to peel off. He attempted one leg at a time after shimmying again. Quickly, he flung himself to the bed and flailed about like a fish out of water, yanking and tugging and pulling at the sticky leather. It just wouldn't move. "Matt! Are you here?!"
Silently, he prayed that Mello thought he was out as he wriggled, determined to get the pants off before Mello could catch him in such a humiliating position. Mello would never, ever let him live it down. Gulping down a breath, he resumed his flailing with renewed vigor, thrashing his legs and hips in the air. In his desperation, Matt missed the fact that he had wriggled all the way to the opposite end of the bed. Pulling himself up right, he grit his teeth and flung himself backwards as he pulled up and out. He nearly shrieked as he toppled off the bed and crashed into the bedside table. Chocolate bars, bullets, condom wrappers and that crème colored lamp they dug out of the trash toppled to the floor. Smacking his head on the way down, he landed with a loud thunk and a shouted exclamation of "fuck!" before the bedside table itself fell over, breaking the crème lamp into a thousand pieces. He was engulfed in darkness as he clutched his head in his hands, eyes closed tightly as he willed the pain away. That was most certainly going to leave a mark.
Through his mantra of fucks and shits he heard the footfalls of Mello's boot-clad feet coming down the hall. The door knob to the bedroom jiggled, then Mello's urgent voice.
" Matt!? What the fuck did you do now?!" The door knob shook violently before Mello's foot promptly kicked the door. "Why's the door locked!?" Matt quickly flopped over onto his back. Panicking now, he struggled violently with the pants, cursing himself for ever thinking of the absurd idea in the first place. Mello's shouts and pounds quickly escalated, the door groaning in protest as he repeatedly kicked and shoved.
"Matt, open the fucking door!" Mello screeched. Out of breath and flailing, Matt responded as it dawned on him that Mello wasn't afraid to break down the door.
"W-wait! Just give me a damn minute!" Breathless, he lifted his pelvis and began to awkwardly shimmyaround on the floor. The carpet rubbed his shoulder blades and a piece of the crème lamp was incessantly stabbing him in the back. Absorbed in his escape he failed to register that Mello's hollers and slams had ceased for a good minute and a half. His eyes widened in amazement as the leather unglued itself from his hips and thighs, one leg sliding down to the crook of his knees. His skin was sweaty and sticky and finally able to breath as he wriggled the pants off his thighs. Flopping to the floor, he nearly laughed in relief, the pants pooled around his knees- it was at this moment Matt noticed that the apartment was awfully quiet… Oh fuck-
Heavy foot falls, a loud thud, the clink of metal, then the door swung open. The light of the hallway flooded the room as Mello practically flew across the carpet. He skidded to a halt, nearly falling onto the bed. Eyes ablaze, he quickly scanned the room. Seconds later, blue met green.
A heavy awkwardness settled. Matt held his breath, looking anywhere but at Mello. Mello in return, blinked, staring at Matt, cerulean eyes wide. Then, without a word, Mello turned and walked calmly out of the bedroom. Moments later, uncontrollable laughter rang through the apartment. Releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding, Matt stumbled to his feet, hopping from foot to foot as he yanked the pants off. Hurriedly slipping on his boxers, he ran out to the main room.
Mello was on the floor, hands grasping his stomach as he giggled, laughed and sniggered. Tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes. Matt stood, eyes fixed on his lover- then his face split into a wide grin. Leaning down, he scooped Mello up into his arms, still giggling like a maniac, and slammed him into the nearest available hard surface- which happened to be the front door. A groan snaked past Mello's lips before he continued his giggle fit. Still smiling, Matt bent and licked a trail from Mello's collar bone all the way up to the corner of his grinning mouth before he swallowed those giggles with a kiss. His tongue invaded Mello's mouth, exploring the curves of his teeth and tongue. Periodic snorts would escape, promptly being swallowed by Matt's wandering tongue. Minutes later, he broke away, grinning like an idiot at Mello, who just smirked.
"You think I'm funny?" Matt asked teasingly.
"Yeah, I think you're fucking funny." Mello responded before he fisted his hands in Matt's red hair, hard. Pulling back, he smacked Matt right in the face with his forehead. Matt reeled, dropping Mello and crashing to his ass. Rubbing his head furiously, he swore loudly.
"What the hell was that for!?" He spat. Mello smirked and placed a heeled boot square in the middle of Matt's chest. He shoved him to the floor then climbed on top, straddling Matt. Leaning down, his chocolate breath mixed with Matt's, their noses brushing lightly, and he ground against him, eliciting a groan from Matt.
" That was for wearing my pants." He then crushed his lips to Matt's. Mello's hands scrabbled about, clutching his face, gripping his red locks and scuttling down, fingers splayed over the muscles of his chest. In return, Matt ran his hands down Mello's back, then to his leather clad ass. A quick squeeze had Mello grinding against him and mewling like a kitten, lips biting and nipping urgently. They broke apart, panting and gasping, each frantically searching for exposed skin of the other. Mello's shirt found its way to the floor with Matt working the tie of his pants. Then Mello was kissing him again, his fingers threading with Matt's and stretching them high above his head. Chest to chest, Mello's teeth clamped down on his bottom lip and Matt hissed. Drawing back, Mello's lips ghosted over his own, their eyes locked together. A mischievous twinkle glinted in Mello's teal orbs and Matt suddenly was overcome by the urge to just take what he wanted.
A snicker, a short kiss, then a grind of his hips that sent dizzying waves of pleasure rolling over Matt. "If you wanted to get in my pants, Matty, all you had to do was ask."
End.
A/N: I thought about this idea while fantasizing about Matt/Mello and could not get it out of my head. It was rather cute. I could just picture Matt wriggling around in Mello's too-tight-pants and couldn't help myself.
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