A/N: Hola. This is kind of an experiment. I wanted to see how well I could get this scene across. Basically, trying to capture intimacy without being flashy or explicit. The title is a line from a poem on love by Emily Dickenson. "Elysium is as far as to/ The very nearest room,/ If in that room a friend await/ Felicity or doom." Please let me know how I did with my objective.
Disclaimer: I own neither Death Note nor the poem.
"What's happened to us, Matt?"
The question, rasped in a voice barely more than a whisper by the broken blonde on the couch, stopped the redhead in his tracks. He didn't turn to look behind him, but he heard Mello sit up, heard the creaking of the couch and the soft whimper of pain. There was no need for him to look. He knew what he would see. Mello would be sitting there trying not to touch his ruined shoulder while blood seeped from the cracks in the shell-like scab that covered the entire left side of his face. He would be looking intently at Matt's back, trying and failing to force his now mostly blind eye to see as brightly as it once had.
"Lie down, Mello," Matt said softly, gently. His tone betrayed how he really felt. Broken. What had happened to Mello had broken him as well. "You're not well."
"I'm well enough," Mello replied. "You didn't answer my question."
Matt sighed and dropped his orange tinted gaze to the worn wooden floor. "I don't know."
Silence. A silence so absolute, so all consuming, that Matt felt he would be lost in it if it wasn't broken.
"When we were children…" Mello began, trailing off into nothing.
Matt kept his head down as he murmured his reply. "We're still children. It's just harder to see it now. And it's easier to see the things we would rather be blind to."
Behind him Mello's hands tightened on the edge of the couch. "I see something… or at least I think I do. Something I never noticed before. Do you see it too?"
The redhead hesitated. He could hear Mello's labored breathing and he wasn't sure if it was a result of the injuries he had received or of fear. His voice shook just enough for Matt and Matt alone to notice it. Quaked in a way that told Matt he was afraid. Fear was not something Mello showed easily. The blonde was truly frightened by few things. Even staring death in the face didn't faze him. But Matt knew what those few things were that would.
"I think I see it too."
There was another long moment of stillness before Matt turned around. Slowly he lifted his head so that he could peer out from beneath his unruly mop of auburn hair. Mello sat with his eyes closed and his face down-turned. His lips were moving in what was probably a silent prayer, a habit of fear. Matt was now certain Mello was terrified. So was he.
Quietly, haltingly he crept closer to where the blonde sat. But Mello still didn't look up, even when Matt knelt before him. The redhead could feel himself trembling as he reached out a gloved hand toward the silently chanting boy. It was an afterthought that made him stop and pull off the gloves that always covered his ruined hands. Fire had destroyed them the same way fire had destroyed the left side of Mello's body. But if he was going to do this then he wanted the gloves gone, because it was likely that if he was wrong then Mello would never allow Matt to lay a hand on him again.
Blue eyes opened at the soft sound of the gloves hitting the floor and there was terror there as he met a calm, orange tinted green gaze. Mello's one good eye remained focused on Matt's expression as one scarred and shaking hand made its way up to graze charred blonde hair. Matt's breath hitched as his fingers caught several golden strands and even as fear flooded him he couldn't help but notice how soft Mello's hair was even after it had been burned.
Mello did nothing to stop Matt, even if he did seem to shrink back into himself just a bit. Emboldened ever so slightly, Matt brought his hand back to stroke Mello's hair again and was surprised to feel the boy lean nearly imperceptibly into his touch. One quivering hand slid along the golden strands until it met Mello's ear. Then, hesitantly, it moved to trace Mello's cheekbone and then down along his jaw.
Matt's movements were slow and gentle, but halting, as though he expected some terrible result at any moment. He touched Mello as though he thought the boy would break with the contact. The shooter knew the gamer could see him trembling, but that only made the trembling worse. As Matt's palm came to rest against his cheek and a scar smoothed thumb stroked his skin, Mello raised his own right hand. It hurt his left shoulder to move that arm, so he let it hang useless at his side. Slender fingers touched Matt's auburn hair before moving to trace his goggles.
Matt was still as he watched Mello's reaction. Fingertips barely grazed his skin as they traced around his eyes and then came to rest on the lens of his goggles. Knowing what the boy wanted, Matt reached up and tugged them off. Mello responded by running curious fingers down his cheek to his jawbone. They stopped only once when Matt took Mello's motionless left hand in his own free hand. After that they came to rest on the side of the redhead's neck.
The two sat watching each other for a moment, neither moving, neither speaking. It was Matt who finally broke the silence.
His voice was small and unsure as he voiced what was on both of their minds. "Where do we go from here?"
Mello responded by moving his hand to the back of Matt's neck and pulling him closer. The redhead showed his compliance by moving his hand from Mello's cheek down to his undamaged shoulder. Still there was such tension there. Such uncertainty and fear in both of them.
Matt had known the kiss was coming, but when Mello's lips met his own he was still shocked. Mello was gentle, more so than Matt thought he was capable of being. And in that moment he wished for time to stop. He didn't want to face what might come from this. Only here and now mattered. That was all. Only this.
Eventually Mello broke away from him, but Matt didn't let him go. Instead he pressed light kisses to his cheek, his jaw, and along his neck until finally he rested his head on the blonde's shoulder. Mello draped his left arm over Matt's back, his right hand never leaving the redhead's neck. Matt, in response, placed a cautious hand near the bottom of Mello's ribcage, where the damage had been minimal.
Neither was really sure how long they sat there, each just listening to the other's breathing and feeling the other's warmth against him. Neither really cared how long passed. Mello was still trembling and Matt was still frightened. Both were wondering what would come of this. When they woke up in the morning, would they be horrified at what they had done? Would things change between them, for better or for worse? And so neither moved or spoke. Neither wanted to break the spell of the moment. The calm and comfort against the pending uncertainty.
"What's happened to us, Matt?" a soft voice rasped, startling Matt out of his reverie. He felt Mello tighten his grip on him and knew the boy was more afraid than he cared to let on.
"I don't know, Mello," Matt answered honestly in what was barely even a whisper. He made no effort to mask his fear. Unlike Mello, Matt didn't care if the other knew he was afraid. "I really don't know."
