DISCLAIMER: I do not own Death Note, it belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. I make no money from writing this.
UNDERCOVER
The scent was so overpowering that the teenager had to take a step back, hiding behind the door that he'd just thrown open. It wasn't like the smell of flowery soaps and the perfume that smelled suspiciously like chocolate weren't nice, in a girly sort of way, but that the redhead had never before encountered such a mixture in his own bathroom. The blond that was already yelling at him to get the fuck out, because he wasn't ready, usually tasted like chocolates. The thought of the way Mello tasted had the slightly younger teenager venturing from around his shield to take a step back into the room.
"Holy shit." The cigarette that had been dangling out of Matt's mouth nearly fell out, when he opened his mouth in shock. There was Mello, who was usually almost, if not more, intimidating than he was attractive, putting the finishing touches on expertly applied make up. It was not uncommon for the blond to wear a little eyeliner, to wear what Matt dared to call a belly shirt, but he was now dressed convincingly as a girl. Not just any girl either, the blond wore thigh high stockings, garters disappearing up under a very short ruffled skirt, and a sleeveless, tight fitting top that laced down the front like a corset, exposing even more belly than usual, actually ending above the navel. He'd lost the usual leather riding gloves, opting for fingerless pink fishnet ones. "Mello, you look like a girl. Like, really. Your nails match the gloves."
"Duh." Mello bent over, tugging on the end of a stocking, making sure it was in the right place. "Stop looking at my ass, pervert. Keep it in your pants." Knowing the older teen, the flashing of the little pink panties had probably been intentional, a tease when they both knew Matt was not getting anywhere near his ass right now. The blond had been in the bathroom for hours, occasionally cursing loudly about the mission, and why couldn't Matt just do it. The blond was indeed gorgeous in an androgynous way, always having men and women alike drooling over him as he passed, oblivious to their staring. Mello was definitely the more delicate looking of the two, had been on occasion mistaken for a girl, but still the redhead had not believed he would pull this off. Matt had joked that he would have gladly taken one for the team (ha) and gone undercover himself, but he didn't have the ass for it. Besides, this was Mello's world, he knew all the codes, how to spot who was the most important in the room, how to talk to the kind of men that secretly scared the shit out of his younger partner.
"How'd you fit your dick in there? Seriously, I really wanna know. That's got to be the shortest skirt I've ever seen." The blond muttered a string of curses at the redhead, flipped him the middle finger. "I love you too sweetheart. All right, I'll let that go, since I'll be finding out exactly how you did it when we get home. I've got a better question anyway. You really do look just like a girl. If I hadn't just had your cock in my mouth this morning I might even be convinced. But baby, how are you not going to out yourself the second you open your mouth?" Matt smirked, thinking he'd won the argument. Maybe Mello would just give up this insane infiltrate-the-rival-Mafia-family thing and stay home in bed. With the skirt on. Matt knew that he'd already lost the fight about getting his lover to cut ties with Rod Ross, but maybe there was something he could do about the plan tonight. If only he were to point out just how fucking stupid this whole thing was, if only he reminded the blond that he just couldn't do this.
That of course, was where Matt went wrong. So very wrong. If there was one thing that anyone close to Mello should remember above all else, is to never, ever, suggest that he might not be able accomplish even the most insane, unreasonable, likely to get them killed, stupid fucking task. Mello took several steps toward the redhead, slow, careful, more floating than walking really, even when wearing what Matt had just noticed were four inch spike heels. The blond was already an inch taller than his lover, and the spikes should have made the hacker feel that much smaller, but somehow the blond managed to convey an image of dainty, delicate, even dressed up like the gothy prostitute he was intending to play the part of. Mello leaned down, rubbing his cheek along Matt's own, sighing as he breathed in the scent of cigarettes and the cologne that had been a Christmas present (more because Mello thought it smelled sexy, than because Matt had any desire to spray the obnoxious crap on himself). "I thought you said I was pretty? Don't I do it for you anymore?" The voice that came out of Mello's mouth was higher, ended in a very convincing girlish giggle when he gripped Matt's dick through his loose cargo pants.
"Unh....." Matt would have expressed his utter shock at hearing this new sound come out of the terrifying blond, if he'd been able to speak. The redhead could remember when they were children, how he'd been a little jealous when the blonde's voice had begun to drop. Now, as he spoke, he didn't sound like the pre-puberty Mello that had been prone to high pitched squeals of excitement when they played. No, he sounded like the dozens of girls that had hit on Matt at parties and clubs in the past, soft, and somewhat breathy, begging for attention, to be desired. The older teen's hand squeezed Matt's erection through his pants, making the redhead gasp for breath. Matt laid his head on Mello's shoulder, wondering what was such a damned turn on about a girl. Of course, he knew that this was no girl, this was Mello, with that soft golden hair, smooth skin, that tight ass that he fit inside so perfectly. His hips jerked in response to the thought, pushing himself into Mello's hand. The blond was still speaking, whispering into his ear between nibbles to neck and shoulder, but Matt didn't hear a word. He simply nodded, eyelids fluttering. His hand came up to cup Mello's ass through the frilly fabric that barely managed to cover it. He squeezed it, pulling the taller boy closer, and Mello's hand squeezed back in response, harder, almost hurting. God, it felt so good. "Mmm. Baby. Pretty. Very. Please?"
Mello moaned, louder than usual, and mostly just for effect. If the redhead had been in his right mind, he would have known that the blond was faking it, that he had much more control than the younger boy. Too much for someone who was just barely seventeen. It seemed to Matt like his lover could turn himself on or off like a light switch if he wanted to. So. Not. Fair…But Matt was too busy sliding his hand under the skirt, a finger running under the hem of the pink panties. Satin. Oh god. Oh fucking hell.
"Aww, baby. It hurts doesn't it sweetheart? You want me really bad, don't you?" Matt's head fell against Mello's shoulder, biting it to muffle the appreciative noises he was making in the back of his throat. "You poor, pathetic little thing. You can't even speak, you want me so much. You wanna put your fingers in me?" Mello let his hand slip inside Matt's pants, rubbing his erection through his boxers. Matt's finger ran between the cheeks of Mello's ass, waiting for permission, waiting for the slightest sign that it was ok. There was a little blush on the blonde's face, adding to the illusion of innocent little girl, even when he continued to speak such dirty words. At any other time, Mello would be calling the redhead 'bitch', 'slut', 'pussy', and Matt would enjoy every syllable almost as much as the feel of the blonde's talented little hand. But he was playing a part, and doing it so well. "No, that's not what you want. You want to bend me over, right here, you want to pull up my skirt and stick your cock in my hot, tight, ass..." the last few words were punctuated by Mello slipping his hand inside the redhead's boxers, jerking him off with hard, fast strokes. Matt's breathing was getting heavier, and he was desperately fighting the urge to come in Mello's hand when there was such a better offer being laid on the table. Err, sink rather. Or floor, shower, it didn't matter really.
"Oh, god, Mello, stop it." The redhead's finger was teasingly stroking around the entrance to the blonde's ass, the tip pushing in, feeling the muscle tense, then relax before he pulled it back out. Where was the lube? There was a bottle of lotion just out of reach, but that would mean that Mello would have to let go of him, and it didn't look like that was happening any time soon.
The blond slapped him, the force sending his head whipping the side, his other hand never stopping in its motions. He'd almost come right there, the mixture of pleasure and pain making him groan, snarl before he caught the blonde's lips in a quick kiss. "Bad boy. I didn't say you could do that." The cute little dominatrix grinned, slapped him again. "If you want me, you have to be good. You have to ask nice. Or I'll leave you with this all night. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?" It also would not have been the first time, the redhead remembered fondly. Mello had the sick habit of waking his lover by inserting a remote-controlled vibrator into his ass, forcing him to wear it all day, to go shopping or out to the movies, never knowing when to expect the delightful buzzing against his prostate, until he saw that devious little grin when Mello slipped a hand into his jacket pocket.
"Unh..." Matt was so poetic. Or, pathetic. Whichever. His traitorous finger had already found it's way back to forbidden territory, pushing inside the blond, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that might have been a small amount of discomfort or even pain, but then the digit was pressing into his prostate, and the noise turned into a breathy moan. "Lube. Clothes. Off. Now." If he wasn't able to get inside the blond soon, Matt was really going to come in his pants, like a pathetic pre-teen with his first hard-on. This was ridiculous. How was Mello able to have this much control over him? Oh yeah. Right. He was fucking gorgeous. Ok, well, she was fucking gorgeous. Whichever. All Matt wanted to do was bend the pretty purring kitty over, fuck his brains out against whichever surface was closest.
"Oh, you think so, do you sweetheart? I don't believe you are in a position to make demands." Mello's words barely registered, other than 'position', which was taken entirely out of context. He remembered that copy of the gay Kama Sutra he'd bought, how they had managed to create a few entries of their own. The redhead was going to have to remember to write the publisher about that. Maybe they could name one 'Mihael'. He doubted that there was another man in the world who could get his limbs into that same position. The blond slapped him again. "If you don't get your finger out of my ass right now, I won't say it." The ultimate threat. The magic words that only Mello knew, that only worked when coming from the blonde's sexy pouting lips.
"No. Don't. Not...oh god...Mello...not like this." The blonde's hand was stroking faster, and Matt's own dropped away, too distracted to try to even the score. If he could just get Mello turned on enough, he wouldn't end up having to change pants at the last minute. He wanted to stake his claim before they left for the night, wanted to come in Mello's ass, not because it felt so good, though it was better than anything he'd ever felt, but because he wanted them both to remember, all night, that the blond belonged to him. Not the bastards that would be pawing over him, offering him money and power and their own (probably much tinier) dicks. That skirt was so short, those silky underwear would be so easy to slid over those lean, but deceptively strong, thighs. Matt's dick always fit so perfectly inside Mello's ass, was always welcomed with breathy moans and panting, and sometimes, if he was lucky or had been a really good dog, the blond would scream his name for the entire building to hear. Yeah. That's right. The entire fucking building. They'd had complaints.
"Matt, baby, you-" The redhead captured the blonde's mouth in another kiss, cutting off the words that were about to damn him. He would not be so easily thwarted. All the older teen had to do was say it, and it didn't make a difference if Matt was even hard, he would come, only because Mello had told him to. That was it. Those were all the words that needed to be spoken. The blond didn't even need to touch him, didn't even need to look at him. Mello wrapped a leg around the redhead's waist, sliding his hand back into Matt's pants. The redhead grabbed the other leg, pulling it around him, crushing the entire length of their bodies together. He placed either hand on Mello's ass, carrying him to the sink, sitting him on the edge. Mello's skirt was hiked up around his waist, and the redhead let go long enough to free himself from his pants, only undoing the zipper before rubbing his exposed dick over the soft satin panties.
"Don't you fucking dare you little cock tease." Mello giggled at the silly term, making the redhead feel that much smaller, embarrassing him but turning him on that much more. Matt reached for the lotion, had coated his fingers in it. Again, he dared risk the blonde's anger by slipping his hand into his panties. He waited for another slap, or for Mello to speak the words that would have this ending in the ruin of what was probably very expensive lingerie. Slicked up fingers ran inside the crack of Mello's ass, and the blond reacted by pulling him closer, raising his hips up. "See, baby, I always do you right. You don't want me to stop, do you sweetheart?" The blond moaned into his ear, bit his collarbone. The redhead took this as consent, immediately shoving two fingers into that tight warmth.
"Matt..." It was the redhead's turn to laugh, though the joke was still on him. The blonde's legs fell from around his waist, one spiked heel-clad foot finding purchase on the floor as the other dug into his calf, pulling him even closer. "You fucker. You fucking pussy. Just stick it in already." Again the redhead laughed, pointing out the obvious flaw in his lover's request by rubbing his aching erection against the blonde's underwear. The blond fumbled with the garters, shaky hands finally managing to free the snaps. "They aren't pass worded, dumbass. Take them off."
"Alright then." The redhead was still fingering the blond, adding a third digit as his other hand tugged at the waistband. The blond was pushing his own clothed erection against his lover, and Matt hated to break the contact for even a second. It was a nice change to have Mello at his mercy, and giving him even a second to clear his head while they broke contact might have the blond changing his mind again. He tugged at the fabric, the force of the movement ripping the satin completely off, and almost knocking the older boy from his unsteady perch simultaneously. "Careful baby."
"Fuck you...clumsy fucker." Matt fingers thrust in deeper, finding Mello's prostate. The next few things happened so fast that neither was really aware of it. At the sudden pressure against his spot, Mello's hips rose off the sink, and one of his legs wrapped tightly around Matt's. The redhead responded by removing the digits, pulling the blond to the edge of his perch and tilting his hips up. He shoved the entire length of his dick into the blond at once, delighting in the way the older boy threw his head back, gripped his shoulders. Matt stilled, watching his lover's eyes flutter shut, watching him shudder and squirm. "Move, damn it." He said after several seconds.
Matt complied, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in just enough to hit Mello's prostate, then pushing all the way in. He repeated the process until Mello was whimpering and shaking, grasping at Matt's ass to pull him closer, pushing his own hips up to create a rhythm between them. "There's my pretty kitten. See what you almost missed baby?" but Matt's movements were becoming more and more uncoordinated, and several times he missed Mello's spot completely, earning slaps and bites from the older boy.
"I'm starting…To wonder…Pussy." Even panting and sweating and about to come, the blond managed to insult his lover. The taunt was made worse when the blond reached between their bodies, began stroking his own erection. If it had been any other man, Matt would have known better than to be insulted, but this was Mello. He'd found out early on in their relationship that the blond only needed to be penetrated to reach orgasm, and that he must really be doing something wrong if Mello had to jerk himself off. Of course, this was probably something that the blond was aware of, though Matt still took offense.
The redhead slowed his pace, concentrating harder on hitting Mello's spot, yet finding himself that much more excited at watching his lover masturbate while he was inside of him. Still, the older boy wasn't playing fair, and Matt felt the desperate need to regain control of the situation, taking both of Mello's wrists and holding them behind his back with one hand. Mello whimpered, struggling against him, but only for a moment, before the redhead finally hit his prostate again. That was all it took, one sharp thrust to that spot, and the blond came, biting his lip in defiance of the loss, desperately trying not to call his lover's name. The blond felt himself relaxing, felt every muscle in his body loosen and consciousness begin to slip away. "Found it."
The redhead wanted to taunt his lover, to point out that he was still breathing heavily and almost drawing blood as he bit down on his lip. Matt would have continued teasing, if his dick hadn't been obnoxiously reminding him that it was still shoved in that warm happy place that belonged only to the hacker, that Mello looked so damn hot right now, sweating, carefully groomed yellow locks of hair sticking up in places. Normally, the blond would be pissed if he continued fucking him after he'd come. The orgasm left him too sensitive, and Matt would have five seconds or less to either come or get the fuck out and finish himself. But Mello was too distracted with regaining normal breathing patterns to care too much. Or so the redhead thought.
"Matt, you can come now."
The magic words had been spoken, and like Pavlov's dog, the pet was answering. Matt's knees shook with the effort to hold his weight as the orgasm hit, sending lightning sparks of vibrant colors dancing across his vision. He laid his head against Mello's chest, waiting for the fireworks to stop long enough to remember that he needed to get out before the older boy kicked his scrawny mutt ass. The blond was petting the messy red hair, itching the spot just behind Matt's ear that sometimes literally made his foot twitch (just a little, and only for show of course). When the hacker felt that he could speak again, he tilted his head up, and Mello pulled the goggles up to look at the unfocused emerald orbs. "Mine." The gamer growled more than spoke. "Mine." Mello may have been the master, may have been able to make the redhead come with just a few well chosen words, but the older boy belonged to Matt, and they both fucking knew it, even if Mello wouldn't admit it.
"Uh huh. Sure. Now will you get the fuck out of me?"
"No." Mello slapped him, though it was more playful than the previous times, and it had been to his ass instead of his head. "Watch it, gorgeous. Don't get too frisky, you might excite the puppy all over again." The redhead moved his hips, to prove to his cross-dressing lover that that was already happening.
"Don't fuck with me. You haven't seen everything in my bag of tricks, and I bet you wouldn't like some of the toys I've bought for you. Or, I could just stop using the ones you do like." The gamer sighed, knowing that his lover wasn't one for idle threats. Even after the round of rough sex, the younger man was careful to pull out as gently as possible, knowing full well how sensitive the area was now. "Good boy."
"You're still mine. Don't forget it." Matt had already zipped up his pants, lit a cigarette. He'd been halfway out the door when he decided that even after the mind blowing sex, he might not have quite proved the fact to his lover, and had to state it at least one more time before they both went to clean up in separate bathrooms. "Not that you could." The redhead winked, then quickly made his way out, shutting the door to 'Mello's private bathroom- stay the fuck out', before the older boy could get the last word.
Matt felt that he would now be able to take on the entire world, or at least behave himself while he stood guard in the shadows as Mello 'negotiated' with some big scary Mafia guys. The hacker had almost reached his own bathroom on the opposite end of the apartment before he was unable to hear Mello's whining about ruined lingerie. Yes, the victory was Matt's tonight. He only hoped that his pretty lover had another pair of panties. What color would these be? Hmmm.
Apparently, what Matt had thought was a clever way of getting done what needed to be done, while still not mussing up either of their outfits too badly, had been somewhat of a grave mistake. The redhead had been innocently sitting in their living room, playing a handheld game that could be easily paused and tossed in a pocket at the earliest command. The blond had already spent two hours pacing from the bathroom to the guest bedroom (read: Mello's spare closet and handgun storage), muttering under his breath the entire time. Matt took a moment to lament that he was almost never allowed in either Mello's private bathroom or second bedroom. As a hacker, and the third in line to become the greatest detective in the world, he had quite the curious streak, and it unnerved him to not know all of his older lover's secrets. Though, at this moment, that was the least of his worries.
Mello finally appeared, standing before Matt in a similar outfit, though were a few subtle changes. He'd added a short leather jacket, and instead of the usual rosary around his neck, he was wearing a leather choker collar. The redhead threw his game aside, not bothering to pause it, before he crossed the room to his lover. The younger boy wrapped an arm around the prostitute formerly known as Mello, and was met with the barrel of a gun to his throat. The blond dropped his gun arm, grabbed Matt by the belt, and stuck the gun down the front of his pants. Matt had never understood how his lover wasn't nervous walking around like that all day, a very dangerous and cold metal object pointed straight at the most private part of himself.
"Safety's on. Don't touch it unless you have to. And by have to, I mean when I fucking tell you to." The blond had managed to maintain the breathy girlish voice, confusing the redhead all the more by how he could still scare the living shit out of him when he looked so fragile. Then Mello dropped to his knees, pulling up Matt's pant leg, producing a knife from seemingly out of nowhere before stuffing it down the redhead's boot. Mello giggled as he stood up, realizing for the first time that he was looking down at Matt, not by the usual mere inch that separated him, but by almost half a foot, thanks to the heels. His calves were already burning from walking in them for the last few hours, and it was starting to piss him off. "Next time, you can be the girl, and I can carry the weapons."
"You are not armed? Seriously. I call bullshit. Where'd you hide it?" The redhead frisked his lover, patting down his back, arms, up under the mini skirt. "Whoa. Mello, you can't go in there like this. It's bad enough you look like a victim, but, no gun, no knives? This is suicide." The blond crossed his arms over his chest in defiance, then seeming to remember who he was supposed to be, dropped them and rested a hand on his hips. He gave Matt a look that was half innocent and flirting, and half 'wow, you are a dumbass' before he spoke.
"Guns? I can't even look at the things. I get goose bumps just thinking about them." For added effect, the older boy shivered, shaking his head. His blond hair had been pulled up; leaving his face bare with the exception of the bangs and a few stray strands that had been carefully placed to frame the delicate jaw line. Matt had always thought it was mostly the hair that made Mello look girlish, but with it out of the way, he noticed that his lover was even more feminine looking.
"Well, baby, there's going to be quite a few of them waving around in that place tonight, so you better get used to them real quick." Matt still didn't quite know the purpose of the infiltration, only that Mello needed information, and was reluctantly allowing him to act as bodyguard in the shadows. It was an upscale sort of place, though there would be a large enough crowd partying and dancing that he might not be noticed if he kept in his corner. If he felt too many glances in his direction, he was to mingle with the crowd, could even have a dance if he wanted- girls only of course. No drinking, no games, and most certainly no flashing of weapons or smart-ass mouth. He was just there to be called if the events 'strayed from the plan' as Mello had put. No doubt Mello's plan would be an epic failure, these guys had to be able to smell rats from a mile away. The fact that these particular men had held their positions for so long demonstrated that they were some of the best in the business, as far as rat smelling and gun-drawing were concerned.
Mello batted eyelashes that were a paler blond than the rest of the hair on his body, with the exception of the short trail that ran under his belly button- though that was more often than not waxed completely clean. The blond hated body hair. The last really bad fight they'd had concerned the fact that Matt was too much of a pussy to suffer through a little waxing of his own to please the boy. All right, so it hadn't really been a fight. It had been more of the, if you don't do it right now I am never putting my mouth anywhere near your dick again, sort of thing. "Those fine gentleman wouldn't do that in front of a lady. They know how to treat a girl."
"Yeah, I'll just bet they do. If one of them so much as thinks about laying a hand on you, I swear to god I'll fucking shoot them in the fucking face."
Matt had entered the building first, arriving separately from Mello. He'd taken his car, watching for a sign of the blonde's motorcycle approaching. It zoomed past him, parking around the rear of the club. The redhead had been given a codename, easily allowed inside without any questions. The man at the door, well over six feet, shaved head, tattooed on every inch of visible skin in the muscle shirt and dark gray slacks, actually stooped low, almost bowing at the redhead. He spoke quickly, apologizing for even asking who he was, telling the teen to please not mention any of this to his father, and did he need anything? An escort perhaps? Matt had been about to mention that he was attached, but was quickly interrupted, promised any indiscretions would not reach the ears of his cohort. Whoever's identity he had stolen, the dude was obviously a scumbag. The gamer made a mental note to ask Mello about it later.
Of course, the name did seem to have benefits, when a hostess confronted him just inside the entrance. He was offered a drink, then asked to choose whichever seat in the house he desired. He held his head down, trying desperately not to be noticed by anyone in case they 'recognized' him, and wanted a friendly chat. They cheery hostess followed him to a table near the bar, taking a seat beside him, ignoring his obvious attempts to get her to leave. She began chatting excitedly, at first asking again about Matt's mysterious lady friend, who apparently was quite oblivious to his regular patronage at this fine establishment. When she was sure that the teen was alone, she pulled her chair closer, laying a hand just above his knee. When Matt was able to assure her that he wasn't lonely, and was just happy just drinking in silence, she threw an arm around his neck, practically sitting in his lap as she whispered that any time he changed his mind he was more than welcome to join her in the back room. Matt thanked her as politely as he could manage while still making it clear that he had no need of her services. That was when he noticed that her pupils were quite dilated. She laid the back of her hand against her nose, sniffing loudly, before telling him that if he changed his mind, he would be served only the finest quality. While being disgustingly obvious, enough so for probable cause if she had been discussing things like prostitution and free coke with a police officer, she would have been arrested long ago, but she never used the words 'drugs' or 'sex', instead saying things like her 'services' or the 'product'.
Finally the hostess reluctantly left his table, and Matt was free to down his (illegal) beverage in peace. He guessed that even the man who really belonged to his codename was underage, as they apparently were similar enough in looks for him to pass. Mello of course could not appear as himself, and even if he could, it was not the kind of deal that would require his normal services. He'd somehow made quite the name for himself in the American Mafia, and quote 'made rival families, and even friends a little nervous'. The redhead was left alone in time to see Mello strolling into the room, effortlessly walking on four-inch heels, swaying his hips. Matt looked around to see if there might be some trouble with lighting a cigarette, before rolling his eyes when he noticed the ashtray across the table. He was already fuming, watching every eye in the room turn to his love, knowing the thoughts that played out in the minds of men that wouldn't even bother asking for what only Matt was allowed to do when he begged.
The blond carefully surveyed the place, already making his way to a table at the dead center of the room. A group of young men, probably no more than a few years older than themselves, were playing poker at the table, with the exception of a few older gentleman, quietly sipping their drinks. One of them, obviously the ringleader, was the only one to acknowledge the blonde's appearance.
"We're fine here, sugar. Go on, now." Even as he dismissed the blond like he was just another of the 'hostesses' offering her services, he was reaching out for Mello's leg, running a hand up the strap of his garter belt. The teen visibly shivered, placing his own hand over the old man's, letting him run his finger under the strap. Those were Matt's legs, damn it.
"I don't work here, baby. Rod sent me." The don's eyes widened, his eyebrow arching. He obviously didn't believe it. Shit. "He would like to have come in person, but I'm afraid he's a little...tied up at the moment." Mello put his hand to his lips, hiding a giggle. The man smiled, relaxing, then laughed along with the blond. "Rod wants to welcome you to the family properly. He is very pleased with the merge, and told me to send the message that he looks forward to a long and successful business relationship."
"You can tell my new friend that I am pleased as well, and that he could not have sent a lovelier present to seal the deal. Best wishes to his lady friend as well. I don't begrudge him this evening of relaxation in the least." The boss snapped his fingers, pointing to a kid on his left side, who looked like a much younger copy of himself. The teenager immediately dropped his hand of cards, downing the remainder of his drink before heading away, grabbing the hand of one of the hostesses and dragging her from the room. "Here honey, no reason to make such a lovely lady stand when there's a vacant seat at my side." Lady? The teen looked several years younger than his tender age. It was obvious, and if Matt had been any older, he would have mentally chastised himself when the word jailbait came to mind.
"Thank you," Mello purred, letting the man pull out his chair, daintily crossing his legs as he sat. He turned his body to better face the older man's own seat. The boss took Mello's hand, kissing the back of it. The blond giggled, throwing his head back and batting his eyelashes. When the older man let go of him, Mello's hand came to rest on his knee. They spoke of business first, Mello pretending to not understand most of the questions, but answering them as best as a private escort could. Matt was quite proud of the hours he'd spent perfecting the art of lip-reading, but he only caught bits here and there. From what he understood, the blond was supposed to be a close 'friend' of Rod's, possibly a blood relative.
There was very little room for women in the Mafia, but that did not mean that they wouldn't surround themselves with groups of pretty young girls, the kind that were attractive enough to demand ridiculous sums of money, who were far too 'classy' to stand on street corners. Also, the women had to not mind being ordered to scrub at the occasional spot of blood on the upholstery. They were expected to clean up various bits of gore, the not so rare body part or two, probably all while being fucked up the ass wearing nothing but an apron. Mello had explained all this, not that least bit ashamed at being thankful for god blessing him with a cock instead of a vagina. No doubt he would have ended up like the other women who he genuinely felt pity for. He'd said that he couldn't count the number of times that his business partners brought their comares to important gatherings, to aid in relaxing them while they discussed drug trafficking, gave out the names of corrupt police officers and politicians.
Because Mello was a man, he sat in a chair, almost an equal with the other members of the family, while girls, mostly those who'd barely hit puberty, dropped to their knees under the table, or hiked up their skirts and rode the don's cock, while he acted like she wasn't even there. There'd been a few times when one of the girls tired of this treatment, either honestly having a moment of clarity or just wanting a few extra bucks, turned rat and went to the police. Mello had been asked to execute several of them. Mello swore that all he did was give the address of a well known psychologist in England by the name of Roger Ruvie, who would know of a safe shelter for them. He swore to Matt that the girls were handed an envelope full of cash for a plane ticket and sent safely on their way.
Matt wanted to trust his lover, wanted to believe that he was incapable of murdering an innocent woman, even to save his own skin. But being a student of L's he was prone to mistrusting almost everyone. He'd also seen enough of the Godfather and Scarface to know that even the stupidest of professional criminals demanded proof of an ordered hit. In fact, for a murder to take place under the watchful eye of the family, there were quite a few procedures to follow and the head of the organization had to give his full blessing before it could be carried out. He suspected that his gorgeous blond lover did not want to think him capable of such things, and only gave the story to comfort the redhead. If he knew the blond as well as he thought he might, than Mello probably considered most of these girls no better than the criminals he associated himself with, no better than the many men that L had sent to the executioner.
Matt was forced to push these damning thoughts aside, because he had no time to be upset with his lover, at least not where murder was concerned. There were more serious matters to attend to. The polite conversation had ended with the don giving yet more compliments to Mello's boss, sending his regards and his thanks again. The blond squeezed the older man's thigh, running his hand up the inside of the suit pants, ending just below the growing bulge between his legs. Most other clubs would have kicked them out by then, but this man probably owned the place, and there was a large lump in his suit jacket pocket. Matt noted with a very primal, cave man sort of thought that the gun was obviously bigger than the one Mello had stuffed down the redhead's pants earlier that night.
"You like what you see there, princess?" Mello nodded, blushing deeply. The hacker was amazed at his boyfriend's acting skills. He could fucking blush on cue! Of course, he imagined he might be a little red too, at having some guy who was over a foot taller than him, was at least twice, more likely three times his weight (mostly muscle) grabbing at his ass in a crowded club. Mello climbed into the older man's lap, letting him kneed the cheeks of his ass with both hands. The entire room was treated to a full view of the blonde's underwear. Matt noted with little satisfaction that they were white, edged with red lace. The blond actually tried to pull the skirt back down, but his hand was playfully swatted away. "Aww, don't be shy sweetheart, daddy won't let any of these hooligans touch his sweet present. They're only looking." The man shot the rest of the table a vicious glare. They all quickly left, making excuses about needing another drink, or that their own comares likely had dinner and 'dessert' ready at home. The two were left alone, giving the redhead a better view of his lover rubbing himself against the man's crotch. The blond dipped a hand into the suit jacket, his hand going around the gun there, no doubt trying to figure out what kind of piece the don was packing.
"Oh my god, it's huge." The blonde's hand quickly retreated, and he shivered, playing the innocent routine so convincingly that the boss laughed at him, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, comforting the poor frightened 'prostitute'. The blond leaned into the touch, closed his eyes.
"Don't worry, I won't be using it on you." As if the statement wasn't disgustingly obvious enough to stand on it's own, the man gripped Mello's hips, pushed his own up, grinding their pelvises together. The teenager moaned, his head dropping to the man's shoulder, panting in his ear. The don grabbed the back of the blonde's neck, pulling his head back, kissing his lips, forcing his tongue inside Mello's mouth. Then the older man pulled the tie out of Mello's hair, letting it fall around his shoulders before taking a handful, pulling the teen's head to the side at what must have been a painful angle. He licked and kissed his throat, making the blond blush and moan, squirm in his lap.
The redhead watched, chain-smoking, still upset that his lover had so carefully concealed the marks he'd left all over that soft skin. There was a huge purple mark over the collarbone, and Mello had bitched about the amount of make-up it had taken to cover it. The boss was nipping at that very spot, and Matt found himself wondering how the man didn't notice the most obvious of tell-tale signs just above and to the side of his lips. Sure, the older teen was the most convincing cross dresser that the redhead had ever seen (and they were currently residing in LA), but girls did not have Adam's apples. They just didn't. Maybe the boss had been too busy dealing drugs and putting out hits in his lifetime to never learn that fact, or maybe he just didn't care. Then again, Mello was pretty much just another hole in this guy's eyes, so he was probably not paying as much attention to the blonde's neck as it appeared. Of course, when you have the sexiest blond to ever grace this world with his presence, writhing in your lap and making some very obscene noises, it was almost understandable. Inexcusable idiocy, but understandable.
Matt watched, unable to march over there, haul off and punch the guy in his face, then throw Mello over his shoulder, kicking and screaming while he then shot the don in the balls. This was a nice enough fantasy, though was doing little to comfort the redhead as he was treated to a view of the older man rubbing the backs of Mello's thighs, and of the blond reaching between them to cup the don's erection through his pants. He giggled, turning his head aside and blushing, even as he began to rub the man's dick. When the Mafia boss slipped his hand under the hem of Mello's lace panties to cup the naked skin, his fingers digging in to the soft flesh, Matt barked at a nearby hostess to bring him another drink. He'd had a couple beers, and the frightened girl was rushing yet another over, when the redhead told her to bring him back something stronger. He downed his shot, tempted to pull the girl that patiently waited to remove the glass into his lap. He had experimented with girls in the brief time that Mello had been away, and with each drink, some of them were looking a bit tempting. Though any advance would be made purely in hopes that his lover would notice, come to his table and sock him in the nose.
When they'd first shacked up together, Matt using sex as a way to release the frustration that had built up over Mello leaving him all alone at Wammy's, a similar thing had happened. The blond had been innocently surfing the net, looking for information on Kira of course, when he'd become bored (or nosy) and gone through Matt's browser history. The redhead owned multiple computers, and regrettably this one's primary function was for watching youtube videos, reading the daily news, and of course surfing for porn. The last had gotten him in quite a bit of trouble with his reluctant lover, who had never before expressed any desire in their relationship being monogamous. Maybe it had been that the majority of the videos in his internet history were hetero films, or maybe because the first video Mello had come across featured a large breasted brunette, but whatever the reason, the blond was furious. He stormed into the living room, punched Matt in the nose, then screamed when the redhead did nothing to conceal that the action had aroused him. The blond took yet more offense to this somehow, proceeding to punch his friend in the balls. Twice. Hours later, he had apologized and Matt had received the best blowjob of his young life.
So maybe the satisfaction of making Mello jealous, if it was possible, was not really worth the injury to his nuts. Still, he would have given almost anything to not be forced to watch his lover give a handjob to a total stranger in a club full of criminals and drug addicts. Oh yeah, and prostitutes. The redhead had already watched several couples wander away, after wads of cash or little baggies full of white powder were exchanged in plain view. He'd had to piss for nearly half an hour, but didn't really want to walk in on whatever was going on in the bathrooms. The intoxication mixed with the ignored bodily function was only fueling his anger. So when the blond stood, holding out a hand for the boss to follow his lead, Matt felt the stirrings of his murderous intents reach their peak. Then, to twist the blade, the couple walked away, the older man pushing Mello ahead with a hand over the exposed skin of his lower back.
The blond had made it quite clear that he was not to interfere unless Mello's life was at stake. He was not to draw his blade or his gun unless Mello gave the signal. Still, when the two passed his table on the way to the men's bathroom, Matt's hand automatically went to the butt of the gun concealed by the striped shirt he wore. At first, the blond had complained about his lover's wardrobe, how it wouldn't fit the atmosphere. But they had no time to buy anything else, and none of Mello's things fit the younger teen, thin as he was. Even after the redhead was finally permitted to wear the striped t-shirt and baggy cargo pants, they had yet another argument over the fuzzy vest. It was hideous, didn't go with the rest of ensemble, mismatched as it already was. And then there were the gloves, and the boots that Matt almost never bothered to even lace. And the goggles! Matt made quite the sacrifice regarding his wardrobe that evening, trading the goggles for a pair of sunglasses, his gloves for a set of Mello's, and the redhead had even tied the laces of his boots. He was thankful that he'd put up so much of a fight when he'd been given the gun, which would have showed under his shirt. Not that it mattered in a place like this.
The redhead waited, five minutes, ten, fifteen. He had another drink, smoked several more cigarettes, chatted with a hostess about his father, managing to still convince her that he was some big badass' kid, all while actually extracting information from the very friendly, but stupid girl. He'd almost managed to forgot about his lover, to relax and let himself enjoy an evening out without any specific tasks to complete. His cell phone was on if Mello needed him, and surely someone would hear if anything bad was happening in there. Mello was probably murdering the guy as Matt let the alcohol warm him and let his worries drift away. The redhead had thought the girl that was now running out of the bathroom was in fact his lover, the slutty outfit, the blond hair. Then her shrill voice was assaulting his ears as she screamed at the patrons and the man that was trying to grab hold of her wrist while she ran towards an exit. She turned, and Matt noticed brown eyes, bright red lipstick, and the beginnings of very dark roots showing under that mass of blond. The words 'bastard' and 'somebody help me' were uttered, followed by a barely decipherable string of begging and pleading, two armed guards grabbing each of her arms and presumably escorting her to her car.
The man in question, a somewhat overweight fellow with graying hair, was standing near the redhead's table, taking yet another bouncer aside, not even bothering to whisper his orders. He wiped at his mouth, his hand coming back bloody. He reached into a pocket of a suit jacket that was probably worth more than Matt's car, wiping his hand and tossing the rag to the bouncer. "Fucking bitch. Gave her plenty, fucking extra. She knew what was coming. Little slut said she could handle it rough." The girl was still kicking and screaming as she was led out, using her legs against the doorframe to keep them from pulling her out. One of the bouncers took her around the waist, while the other smacked her over the head. The blow hadn't looked that hard, but she instantly went limp and was carried out. No one looked, except for the two men still talking near the redhead. "She don't belong to nobody. She ain't got no ties at all. Fucking just make the little cunt disappear before she talks." The bouncer nodded, cracking his thick neck, already pulling a gun and heading towards the door.
Shit. That was it. There was no way in hell Matt was going to sit there when the same thing could happen to his Mello. He could see it now, the defenseless blond pressed up against a bathroom stall, fighting to keep his clothes on as he was manhandled by the much larger, armed man. Maybe he would leave the shirt on, or maybe Mello's back would be to him and he wouldn't see the flat boyish chest. Then his skirt would come off, and the panties, and the pervert would reach around and discover that there was something a little extra down there than he'd planned for. Even if the boss wasn't totally opposed to fucking a dude when he'd expected a girl, and one could be surprised at how many men really aren't (especially if the dude in question is was as pretty as Mello), those Mafia types could get pretty damned offended at discovering that they'd been lied to, duped. Even if he didn't put two and two together, even if Mello had never met him face to face, which Matt was fairly sure he had, the don would no doubt kill him for the insult alone.
The room was huge, could have probably comfortably housed a few of the larger tables in the main area. There was a lounge with a sofa, chairs, even a television. In one corner of this area, there was a stand up shower partially closed off by a thick green curtain. The sofa and chairs were gold as well, the floor green, the pillows that were scattered all over the furniture alternated in these colors. The symbolism was not lost on Mello, who tried not to roll his eyes when he thought of how tacky it all was. Gold and green, the colors of money. They could have decorated it royal purple with leopard spots and been more respectable.
"You look nervous sweetheart. Come here, let's sit for a moment." The man patted a seat next to himself on the couch. He reached into his pocket, producing a plastic baggie full of white powder, then a diamond encrusted (fucking diamond encrusted) coke straw. He laid them on the table, carefully watching the blond for signs of him thinking about grabbing the drugs or expensive paraphernalia and running. Mello laid a hand on his knee again, rubbing his cheek against the older man's shoulder. "You haven't had any until you've had this. Trust me, sugar, it'll take away all your cares. I know it gets me through the day when I have to deal with the idiots you just met." The blond giggled, scooting closer. He watched the man as he pulled a tin out of his pocket, producing a razor blade. He cut three lines for each of them, Mello's thankfully much less dense than his own. "Here, you first angel."
"Such a gentleman." Mello kissed the man, then bent down, quickly snorting all three lines and closing his eyes against the immediate rush. He sat back, already feeling the euphoric effects. The room spun when he dared open his eyes again, and it took him a minute to focus, only hearing the don take his own share, cleaning up the mess, and sitting back beside him. "Mmm." When Mello could focus again, he took everything in a second time, suddenly not minding the decor as much as he had. It was actually kind of pretty how everything seemed to shine and the lights reflected off of everything. The man beside him was rubbing his thigh, waiting for him to turn his attention back. It seemed that everything caught his eye, from the table top to the pillows behind them, even the don's tie tack was somewhat fascinating. There was a little diamond on the tie tack, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. It sparkled so nicely.
"See, honey, I told you it was good. Purest you'll ever find. Come on, pretty, look at me." Their eyes met, and Mello was instantly taken aback at the gray irises of the older man, which were nearly lost around the dilation of his pupils. But they were such an unusual color, that he had to notice. "There, that's the look I was hoping for. Feels good, don't it sweetie?" The man had misinterpreted his drugged fascination, taking it to mean that the hand that was slowly creeping up his thigh was the cause of his intense stare.
"Yeah. Very good." The don pulled Mello into his lap, kissing him, nibbling his lower lip. The initial shock of the drug was thankfully wearing off, though the rest of the effects were sure to last for hours. Mello remembered that he was still acting, that he had no time for enjoying the buzz, and shouldn't be anyway. He had to find a way to distract the man for a few minutes. He purred when the boss rubbed his lower back, arched into the touch and bit his neck. The man's hands were creeping up Mello's shirt, nails dragging down his back. The blond remembered that habitual cocaine users tended to have problems functioning sexually, but could still feel the bulge in the man's pants as he rubbed his ass against it. He would have been impressed with the man's defiant libido, if he'd been what he was claiming to be. He continued kissing the man, moaning in his ear, while letting the man fondle him. Maybe if he just got the stubborn bastard off, he'd pass out, and Mello could have access to the laptop he'd seen in the briefcase the older man had brought in and set carelessly aside. It would only take a few minutes. But the bastard wouldn't quit, was trying to pull his shirt off now between kisses. It was creeping above Mello's ribs when the boss spoke again.
"Huh. No bra. Not that you need one, right?" Shit. Had he noticed? He'd hoped that the fucker was just too stupid and that the corset might help...Mello pouted, turning his head away. The man licked the side of his neck. "It's ok sweetie. I didn't mean anything by it. I like my girls skinny." Mello blushed, then thanked his god that this man was obviously a total moron. What the hell was a smart guy like Rod doing associating with this filth? Whatever, the boss was planning on offing the guy soon anyway. He was not to be trusted, and had screwed many a past business partner out of potential deals. The only reason he was being kept around was that his family was quite large and loyal, and known for being a resourceful lot.
"I hope I haven't disappointed you. Rod would be very upset if he chose the wrong gift." The don shook his head, laying Mello onto his back on the couch. The blond held his legs closed, bending them slightly at the knee but the man pushed them apart, running one hand up to undo the snaps of the garter belt.
"Baby, there isn't anything I want more than to fuck you right now." The boss was crawling between his legs, pushing up his shirt to kiss the blonde's stomach, dipping his tongue into his navel, nipping the flesh over a hip. Just as he was about to push the blonde's skirt up, two young men came bursting through the door, excitedly talking at the same time. There was something going on in the main area of the club, and a patron was upset. Something about a girl, and the don's brother. "Goddamn idiot. Should've been aborted. Ma will be hearing about this on Sunday. See if he ever pulls this shit in my establishment again. Be lucky if I don't kill him myself tonight. Fucking moron." The blond had a moment to be disgusted by these words. Not because the man had just said he would kill his own brother without a bit of remorse, or even mentioning his mother in the same breath, but because he knew that the don had been talking about going to church when he'd mentioned Sunday. There was a cross around his neck. Mello apologized to his god, wondering if his savior was even listening to a coked-up cross-dresser in the proverbial lion's den. Then the man dropped the baggie of drugs and the straw on the tabletop, kissed Mello, and headed for the door, the messengers in tow. "Help yourself sugar. I won't be long."
The blond waited until he couldn't hear the excited voices anymore, then pulled the discarded laptop out of the briefcase. Nothing was even pass worded. There was no security whatsoever. He sorted through the various junk, finally finding what he was looking for. He wouldn't need any proof, just the information to pass on to the right people. He had Rod eating out of his hand, the man took every word Mello spoke like it was the gospel truth.
When the older man finally made it back into the room, looking somewhat pissed off, but less so than when he'd left, the blond had already divided up a few lines of coke on the table, was holding his hair out of his way as he snorted one. "Is everything alright? I can come back later." The blond handed the straw over, wasn't given a response until the man was finished packing everything away.
"No, baby. I won't let that useless moron bother us again. Let's go find a door with a lock on it, shall we?" Mello was led into yet another room, this one looking more like a normal public restroom, though still far more upscale than most. There was a long sink littered with razor cuts on its surface, a row of rather large stalls. He was led into one, the door locked behind them. There was a condom floating the toilet, the blond noticed, trying to hold back the bile that worked it's way up his throat. He had little time to consider the state that the stall was in, or wonder what had been spilled on these walls, before being crushed against one, his back to the older man. His skirt was pushed up, and he struggled when the man tugged at his panties. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Hold on, I don't feel so well. Please, a moment?" There was a strong grip on the back of his neck, and his face was being roughly pressed into the wall, then the don bit his shoulder, hard enough to make him cry out. "Please, I really feel sick. I'm going to throw up." The underwear were pulled down his legs, pooling around his feet. He tried to step away, turn around, almost tripped in the heels when the lingerie caught up around them. How embarrassing. If Matt could only see him now, he wouldn't think this outfit was nearly as hot.
"What's the matter, you have too much coke tonight honey? Nah, I don't think so. You seemed to know your way around the stuff. I bet your problem is just nerves. What's the matter, think I didn't know? Think I didn't feel your cock when you were squirming in my lap? Don't worry baby, I don't mind at all, kinda surprised that Rod knows my type. All I'm wondering, is why you're not hard yet. You were making so many pretty noises for me, were you faking it?" Mello felt a barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head and he stopped struggling, willing his knees to stop shaking. "Nah. That can't be it. I can see how bad you want me when you look at me. You just need a little more stimulation right? Pretty boys like you need a little more, yeah?" The boss brought a finger to Mello's mouth, pushing it inside. "Suck on that, huh sweetness. Help yourself out. That's all you'll be getting."
Mello bit the finger, not letting go until he felt the gun whip the back of his head, felt the skin split. He was suddenly very dizzy, his head hurt. The blonde's knees shook, and he was hit again. "Unh. Fuck you…" He said, completely abandoning the feminine façade. He was going to fall, going to pass out and god only knew what would happen to him then. He should have listened to Matt, should have never come here. What good was the information if he died now?
"Slut. Stupid bitch. Fine, that's how you want it. I was prepared to be nice, but I can see you don't like it that way. You want it rough, huh?" The man shoved two of his fingers into Mello's ass, holding the back of his neck in a crushing grip with the other hand. His forehead was repeatedly smacked against the wall in time to the thrusts of the don's fingers. Even if the guy had used lube, the blond noted that he would have been terrible at this. If he'd fucked other boys before, Mello felt sorry for him. Hell, he felt sorry for the girls too. The blond hadn't realized that his thoughts were tumbling from his lips, until he felt the man press his dick against his ass, whispering into his ear. "You just haven't had the best of it yet, darling. I'll have you screaming my name yet." Mello's hips were pulled back, his legs kicked apart. He almost lost his footing again, having to readjust his limbs to keep from tripping. "Look at you spread your legs for me, I knew you wanted it." Right now, the blond was wishing that the don would just shoot him and get it over with. He was probably going to die anyway. There were a million things he wished he'd done, more that he wished he'd told Matt. Like that he was starting to think he might be in love. None of that mattered now, and Mello squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the tip of the boss' dick push into his ass. The man was already grunting in satisfaction, squeezing Mello's hip, pressing his head harder against the wall.
When he heard the shot, the blond was already thanking god, thinking that in seconds he'd finally be at peace, or in hell. Either way, he wouldn't have to worry anymore about being raped in a bathroom stall. There was no pain, however, other than the feeling of the older man's cock exiting him. His ears were ringing, and he felt something slimy spraying his hair and back, over his thighs and ass. Then there were gentle hands pawing at him, pulling his underwear back on and his skirt back down. He was turned around, his hair was being stroked and there was the gentle press of lips against his own. Lips that tasted like cigarettes, and straight vodka. His rapist had been drinking whiskey, and hadn't tasted like a smoker. Foolishly, Mello tried to remember what the other taste had been. Sort of fruity, he guessed. Kind of like the gum Matt chewed when he was forced into a place where smoking wasn't permitted.
"Mello? Baby, can you hear me? Are you alright? It's ok. I've killed him. He's dead. He's not going to hurt you anymore. Mello?" The blond wrapped his arms around his lover's neck, kissing him, forcing his mouth open. Nothing had ever tasted so good. Matt. This was Matt. His Matt. His lover. His savior.
Wait, what had he just said?
"You did what? Are you fucking insane!" The ringing in his ears gone, the dull throbbing in his head lessening as the rational part of his mind took over. Yes, there was the body, a neat little hole in his temple, the other side blown out, the hole the size of the don's fist. There were bits of bone and brain matter and blood everywhere. It was all over the walls, the front of Matt's jacket, in Mello's hair and on his skin. He could feel the worst of it thickening and turning crusty in places. He'd never had the gorier bits on bare skin, and he usually had his hair pulled back if he was going to be close. Leather was so much easier to clean than silk and lace. His clothes would be ruined. And he'd need a shower. There was something slimy dripping down his head, coating the back of his neck. He wiped at it, then immediately threw up, narrowly missing the toilet after having seen the gray-ish purple brain matter, the little shiny white pieces of bone, on his hand.
The redhead watched his lover retch into the toilet until his stomach was empty, then again when he reached for the roll of toilet paper to wipe his hand clean. "Is that a question?" Matt had asked, handing his lover a wad of tissue that he'd wettened in the sink.
"No, it's not a fucking question! You're fucking insane. Stupid! Do you know who this guy is? Do you know how many of those men out there will have our heads when they see this?" The blond stood, gesturing to the body. He was beginning to calm down, and was feeling quite embarrassed for his reaction. It wasn't the first time a man had been shot in front of him, definitely wouldn't be the last, if they actually made it out of there alive.
"Is that a question?" Matt was lighting a cigarette, watching the blond throw a tantrum. Mello threw up his arms in disgust, then fell to his knees, inspecting the damage, looking at the body and wondering how in the hell they were going to get rid of it. The guy wasn't huge exactly, but considerably outweighed the both of them. And there was no exit in the restroom area that he had noticed. The blond continued to verbally assault the younger boy for several minutes. Matt lit another cigarette, throwing the butt of the first into the toilet. The blond almost threw up again at the sight of it mixed with his own vomit and the condom still there. The redhead walked over and flushed it, rubbed his lover's shoulder. The blond let it happen, because his legs were still shaky and his shoulder hurt and Matt was so good with his hands. "Just what the fuck was I supposed to do? He was going to kill you as soon as he was done with you. You know it, and I know it. He'd already...he had his cock in you! No way was I letting this fucking slime do that to my Mello." Matt kicked the body, almost wishing the bastard could feel it.
The corpse was knocked onto it's back from the force of the Matt's kick. There was a sickening squish sound when the gaping wound that had been stuck to the tile from all the blood and brains was pulled loose. Even the redhead was starting to feel sick. He wished Mello had told him what kind of hole the firearm might leave. It really was huge. Bigger than it had looked when the body had been on it's side. "Matt! Stop fucking around! If someone hears us, we're fucking dead. We're meat just like him."
"I think the whole my gun- BANG thing, pretty much would have done that." The redhead pulled the blond closer, kissing him again, apologizing for scaring him and not coming sooner, and asking if he was really alright, and did they need to go to the hospital. Matt kept rambling, still gently rubbing the blonde's shoulders. Mello sighed, hating himself for not wanting to yell at his lover anymore. He was so tired, emotionally at least. His heart was throwing itself at the walls of his chest, the drugs still making him somewhat jittery even though he just wanted to collapse in the redhead's arms. There would be time for that later, but they were already here, and Matt was so warm, overdressed in all those layers of clothing. "Baby, you don't look so good. Seriously, I think we need to get to the hospital. You're all flushed. You're sweating. Are you having a panic attack? It's ok, I won't tell anyone." The redhead smiled at him, and Mello lost the rest of his will to fight, to scold him for his stupidity. These guys were all dead men walking anyway. What was one early demise? As long as they got out of here before they were caught anyway.
"Matt, I..." The words had almost escaped his lips, the blond unable to control the varying emotions that were probably just pouring out from over stimulation. "No, I'm fine. I just really need to get out of here. We need to get out of here. Now. You can worry about me when I don't have to worry about you getting shot. That would pretty much ruin an already really shitty day."
It had been simple really, almost too easy. Mello quickly explained about the girl that Matt had seen, and promised that they would get their due. Rumors had been flying around in this family that the brother to the deceased boss liked his kink a little more than most, and that a lot of girls ended up dead because of it. When the term 'snuff film' was mentioned, Matt visibly cringed and pulled the blond to him. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses in place, but Mello would have sworn that Matt was beginning to cry. He comforted the redhead, kissing his lips and cheeks, nuzzling his shoulder. The redhead only held on tighter as the older boy continued to explain. The worst part of it, to Matt at least, was that the young man he was posing as had been involved in this venture.
"You've seen them, haven't you? Oh my god, how did you not run screaming?" The blond sighed, hating to have had to admit to this. In Rod's defense, it was one of the main reasons that he didn't associate with these people unless he was forced to. He was actually very kind to his comare, and Mello suspected that he really might love her for more than her attractive features and will to keep silent about his activities. She wasn't a total moron, and actually had given Rod some good advice, of course only in private. Mello liked her. And he wouldn't admit it to Matt but he kinda liked Rod too.
"I don't want you involved in this shit any more than you have to be, alright? But I can tell that you're not going to just forget about it. I promise I'll explain what I can later, but please just behave yourself for now, alright? Be a good boy." The redhead smirked at the term, somewhat comforted that even with his shaky legs and flushed skin, Mello was acting like himself. Matt couldn't imagine how much he must be hurting right now, he looked like hell and was obviously terrified. But he was in control of the situation, he had a plan, and that was more than the redhead could say for himself. Mello would be fine, as long as he was working.
Matt's status was key to their escape, as he carried the blond out of the bathroom. They'd managed to clean off the majority of bone and brains from his hair, leaving most of the blood that stuck to the back of his legs and dried in his blond locks. A few patrons spared a glance, but no one moved to ask questions, except one of the bouncers. The man came jogging up to him, asking if he needed help or a clean-up crew. "Nah," Matt began, cigarette dangling from his lips as he effortlessly carried the 'unconscious' blond. "Just takin' her home to finish where we left off." The bouncer raised an eyebrow, then noticed that the girl in Matt's arms was indeed breathing. "Yeah, fucking wore her out alright. Let her sleep it off on the drive."
"Hey, aint that the girl that was with..." The muscleman began, but was interrupted by Matt.
"Hey, he had his turn. Wasn't enough fun to keep her around, I guess. I like her just fine. Now, get the fuck out of my way." Matt waited a moment, wondering if his rudeness was characteristic of the part he was supposed to play, if the man would even buy the story. The bouncer shrugged, giving him well wishes and congratulating him on the nice catch. Then he was gone, and the redhead carried Mello out of the club.
Matt had barely pulled out of the parking lot, made it onto the road, before Mello reached into a jacket pocket, grinning evilly. He held up a little remote control for the redhead to see, pressing a button. Seconds later, the noise from the blast was so deafening that Matt almost lost control of the wheel. He turned to the blond, giving him a 'what the fuck' look, and earning nothing but a little shrug. "See baby, I told you I'd take care of it."
"Holy shit! Holy fucking chr - Fuck it. Holy fucking Christ on cross, what the hell Mello?" The redhead was having difficulty watching the road, and the other cars going in both directions seemed to be having the same problem. The ground floor of the building had exploded, crumbling, the rest of the structure going along with it. What was left was up in flames, nearly demolished in just a few seconds. There were already police and ambulances rushing to the scene, but it was doubtful that anyone had made it. Matt kept having to swerve around the emergency vehicles, almost being plowed by the third ambulance. He thought to park on the side of the road like some of the other vehicles had done, but there really wasn't anywhere to do so, and Mello was screaming for him to drive faster, to get home as soon as possible. Matt was already pushing his junk car to the limit, but he did as instructed. What the hell? It's not like they were going to be pulled over. It seemed the entire LAPD had headed to the scene, making it there at the same time as the ambulances and fire squad.
Thankfully, the drive was a short one. Matt had thought that his lover was falling asleep when they parked in front of the apartment building, but he'd only been quietly staring out the window. Still, the redhead went to the passenger side door, lifting Mello and carrying him to their apartment, not even setting him down in the elevator.
Once they were inside, Mello had planned on spending the rest of the evening in the shower, then curling up to get into bed as early as possible. He thought he might even kick Matt out of bed, make him sleep on the couch. He was so angry with the redhead. Not for botching the plan, because he'd already suspected that he might, knowing Matt's impulsive tendencies. The redhead was always so quiet, so preoccupied playing his games and hiding behind his abominable clothing and goggles, that one might hardly look at him twice, might never expect him to be a threat at all. Only Mello knew that behind the lenses and stripes, there was a mind that was almost as criminal as his own, and that when he had shot the don, his green eyes would be shining with nothing but pleasure and satisfaction. He had enjoyed every second of it no doubt, and as soon as the idea crossed his mind there would no turning back. Even if Mello hadn't been in such an unfortunate position, Matt probably still would have shot him, just for touching Mello, just for being the bad guy that he was. He was actually quite like their mentor in that way, things were always so black and white with him.
No, Mello was not angry with his lover for ruining his careful planning. Not in the least. Because that was Matt, that was one of the things he loved about him. And therein lay the problem. There were a lot of things Mello loved about the younger boy. So he wasn't angry about the stupid impulsiveness. He was angry because Matt had scared him. The redhead could have been killed, had put himself at risk to save Mello. He could have lost him tonight. Luck had been what saved them, and everything had gone perfectly. But what if it hadn't? What if someone else had been in the room?
The redhead had set Mello down on the couch, helping him out of his shoes before disappearing into their shared bedroom. He returned with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, setting them beside the blond. He stood there, quietly staring with a look that couldn't quite be discerned at first. The blond glanced at the clothes beside him, wanting nothing more than to get out of his ruined outfit, but far too exhausted to move from his seat. "Can I help?"
"What? Oh. Yeah." It looked as if something clicked off inside the redhead's mysterious thoughts, and he fell to his knees, carefully undoing the snaps of the garters, slowly sliding the stockings off. His hands were shaking, his fingers freezing against Mello's legs. The blond involuntarily jerked away at first, and the redhead immediately froze. He sat back, yanking off the sunglasses, then reaching down to retrieve the gun from his pants. Oh. "Cold hands, baby."
"Sorry..." The redhead began rubbing his hands together, warming them before continuing to remove the stockings. He paused at the shirt, waiting for permission. Why the hell was he being so careful? The blond lifted his arms up, smiling at the younger boy. The corset was carefully unlaced, and Mello grimaced when he felt where it'd been stuck to his skin from the gore that had now almost dried and hardened on his lower back. Matt's nose wrinkled, throwing the shirt as far away as he could, then running back to the bathroom. When he returned, he held out a towel soaked in warm water. Normally, the blond would have scolded him for letting it drip all over the carpet and the seat of the couch, but he just looked so pathetic, eyes downcast, arm shaking as it was held out in front of him.
"Lazy fucker." Matt smirked, still not moving. The blond stood on legs that were still unreasonably shaky, sliding the skirt off his hips, then laying face first onto the couch. He felt the warm cloth sliding over his skin, touching the back of his neck, down his shoulders, then his lower back. It paused, and he heard the redhead sigh. Mello reached around, laying a hand over his lover's, pushing it down, knowing exactly why the redhead had hesitated. It was the first time he'd ever thought about passing up a chance to touch Mello's naked ass, but there was a legitimate reason this time. The don had barely managed to push himself inside the teenager before the bullet pierced his temple, but he'd been more than rough, had already assaulted the teen with his fingers. The blond had been high on adrenaline and other things at the time, but was now coherent enough to notice the ache. It could have been worse, but there was likely some damage anyway. The redhead carefully wiped away the blood there, and Mello could feel his temper rising like a storm on the horizon, slow at first, but it was there. It was coming and it would be worse.
"I hope you got what you needed." Matt was finished, setting the towel aside. The blond heard the rustling of Matt's hands in his pocket, the click of a lighter. Then Matt was sliding the sweatpants over his legs, Mello lifting his hips to help the redhead pull them up. Mello turned around, pushing himself into a sitting position. He let the redhead finish dressing him before speaking.
"Yeah. Fucker was so coked up he forgot his briefcase, left it alone with me in the room. It's all up here." Mello smirked, tapping his temple with an index finger. Sometimes being a genius was a burden, but the ability to skim through dozens of documents, then commit them to memory in the time it had taken the boss to hurriedly settle the dispute, all while higher than a kite mind you, did have it's advantages.
The blond had climbed into his lover's lap, patiently laying his head on the younger boy's shoulder while he finished smoking in silence. The redhead stubbed out his cigarette, then suddenly he was forcing the blonde's chin up to meet his eyes. They were almost nose-to-nose, green eyes glaring at the confused teen. What had he done? "Are you high?"
The blond froze, waiting for Matt to throw him off his lap and storm out. To yell at him, tell him how dangerous and stupid that had been, how he'd needed a clear head and was instead coked out of his skull. "You're drunk." The younger boy had the decency to look guilty, though he still hadn't let go of the blond. Mello sighed, kissed his lover. "Look, I did what I had to do. It's not like I could refuse."
"This isn't the first time, is it?" Mello shook his head. "Are you an addict?"
"What? No! Look, sometimes you have to sample a shipment before it goes out. Make sure it's up to standard. It's just another part of the business. I've done much worse." Matt couldn't understand. He hadn't been a part of this. Mello had been protecting him from as much as he could, he shouldn't have even brought him along. Thank god he had, because Mello would probably be dead by now, but it might be worse than that look in the redhead's eyes. He looked disgusted. The blond had never before seen the look directed at him, and wished desperately that his lover would put the damn goggles on. He could think of the blond whatever he wanted, he could think he was some murderous, drugged up whore, as long as Mello didn't have to see, could pretend that his lover was looking at him with only desire and friendship and respect like he always did. It had to happen eventually though. Their worlds didn't mix anymore. Maybe once, when they were young, not quite innocent but not yet destroyed by the violence that had taken over before they'd even reached adulthood. Matt had been the shining light in Mello's life when they met again, and he'd almost forgotten about how he'd known he would die alone. This was only temporary. The redhead was not going to let this go, would want the entire story from start to finish. And when it was over he would pack and leave. Mello would do what he had to complete his ultimate goal, and then he would die, because there would be nothing left.
"It's not happening again. You're done. That's the last time. You're a damn good liar, baby, but I can see right through this one. How long did it take before you were volunteering to 'sample' the shipments, huh? How many times have I watched you work through days without sleep, all with that manic little grin on your pretty face? You did it when you were a kid, but it wasn't this bad. You're going to kill yourself this way. What if that shit had been laced, huh? You know how fucking deadly it can be?" The blond crawled out of Matt's lap, turned his head away. He'd crossed his arms over his chest and glared while Matt lit another cigarette. "Oh no, princess. Don't even try it. You know it doesn't even fucking compare." The redhead smoked in defiance, waiting for the lecture in his hypocrisy and not caring one bit. How could Mello do this? Didn't he care about him at all? Was the mission so important that he'd die for it, and leave Matt all alone again?
"I do what I have to. Like I said, I've done much worse than snort a few lines of coke to get through a day. You know what, yeah, I like it. And I'll tell you why." Matt had brought the rosary out with the clothes, and Mello clutched the tiny cross in his hands, played with the beads. "That was nowhere near the first time that I've seen someone's brains explode out of the back of their head. Nowhere near the first time I've killed more than a handful of people in the space of a few hours. I've sent out mass shipments of drugs, knowing that people died getting into the country, that more might die using it. That children might be using it, that men and women were selling their bodies to just get another fix. I wasn't always lucky enough to be with Rod." Matt growled, green eyes narrowing at the mention of the name. Mello had said that the boss was kind to him, respected him and kept him safe. Rod was just another criminal, his crimes well published. He'd had his dirty hands wrist deep in some of the most atrocious acts in the country. "Fuck you for even thinking it. Rod doesn't make me do any of that. Yeah, I fill in when someone disappears, or turns tail, or is too incompetent to handle it. Rod gets so pissed for it too. I've got too much of a brain to be doing the dirty work he says. I should be making plans, organizing, being his right hand man. But I do it, because I know my way around it better than most of them. Because I wasn't always working with such a good guy. There were others, and most of them are dead by now. You wouldn't believe the things I was forced to do, and how hard it was to wear this when I pulled the trigger, when the knife plunged in. But it was them or me and yeah, I still felt bad about it. So forgive me the few seconds of peace that a little 'sample' might offer me."
The redhead stared in horror as Mello flung the cross to the table. The blond was staring at his hands, holding them out, shaking, like he'd been burned. Matt wasn't religious. Maybe talking about being a mafia hit man really did make the rosary come to life and scorch him. Or maybe the blond felt like his tainted hands would dirty the religious symbol, would make it less pure.
The redhead picked up the cross, ran his fingers over each bead. They were cool to the touch. Surely if they would have hurt the righteous Mello, than they would have burst into flame when in the grasp of an nonbeliever. He placed it around the blonde's neck, earning a guilty look. Mello clutched it, like it was the last secure thing in the world. The redhead lay his hand over the blonde's, wondering how long it would be before he was slapped away. Mello laced their fingers together, and the cross was uncomfortably digging into both their palms, but neither moved. "Mello, are you fucking Rod? 'Cause the way you talk about him, the way he trusts you so much, it doesn't look like just a good business relationship."
The older teen was absolutely horrified. Matt really did think he was a slut. He should have known, the way the redhead fucked him, the way he grabbed at him whenever he could. No wonder the younger boy preferred to put him on his hands and knees. He didn't even want to look the blond in the eye. Mello was really nothing more than a good lay. The blond felt his heart breaking, felt the anger drain away and leave only shame and regret. He loved this man. He wanted nothing more than to be loved in return, and maybe even if Matt didn't feel it yet, maybe he could learn to. But who could love him? Even before the Mafia he'd been insufferable, selfish, cruel. He'd treated Matt like shit, and now here was his payment. He'd prayed for the feelings to go away, for god to grant him that one thing, because he didn't deserve it anyway, and it hurt so much.
But god was punishing him in the worst of ways. He wasn't burning in the fires of hell, wasn't being assaulted with bullets or cut to pieces. No, he had to live with the knowledge that he was in love with no chance of it being returned. "Goddamn it, Matt. No. Even if he swung that way, and he doesn't, it wouldn't happen. I was determined to keep that one last piece of my innocence for as long as I could, and there were many chances to use it to my advantage, but that was the one thing I couldn't, wouldn't do. I was a fucking virgin when you found me. You were the first one to touch me, and no one had since. Until tonight. You think I fucked my way to the top, huh? I got by on my fucking brain. Rod's a smart guy, you know. He knows a good asset when he sees it. That's it. He respects me."
The redhead tried to pull Mello into his lap. He wanted to hold him, to atone for his own crimes. The first night they'd met up again, Matt had been more angry than happy to see the ghost at his door. He'd looked for him for over a year but the moment he laid eyes on him he was anything but ecstatic. The blond had looked so much like the little boy that he'd known, shared a room in the orphanage with. There was still the same childish haircut, perfectly trimmed and combed, never a strand out of place, even in his worst moments. He still had that same fierce intelligence in his eyes, that look that commanded attention and respect. But the clothing he wore sent a different message, yes it made the redhead pay very close attention, but it suggested anything but a need for respect.
There were several inches of exposed skin between the low riding leather jeans and the vest that clung to his chest like a second skin, able to be peeled away with one quick tug on the zipper. He looked like a prostitute, and Matt had teasingly asked if he was hard up for cash. The blond had tossed him a bill, enough for a week's worth of rent in that shithole apartment. If that wasn't it, then what the hell was he doing there, now of all times, without so much as calling ahead of time. Here he was, inviting himself in like he owned the place, dressed like one of the dancers at a bdsm bar, glaring at Matt when he just stared, not so much as offering a hello, or asking him how he'd been.
They stood in Matt's kitchen, the redhead quietly brewing a pot of coffee, offering it to Mello black, saying that he'd have to deal because that was all he had. The blond had barely taken a zip before the redhead starting ranting, accusing him of all sorts of things, barking orders at him to explain why there had been rumors flying around at Wammy's over his criminal activities. The blond watched, not speaking, other than to complain about the stench of cigarettes and trash in the apartment. Matt lashed out, saying that the only trash he saw was the tarted up impostor claiming to be his oldest and dearest friend. How dare he look down at Matt, how dare he suggest that he was better.
The blond had pointed a gun, only to have the redhead jump him, twisting his arm painfully behind his back while pressing the length of his body to the taller boy's. Mello's mouth opened in a little 'o' of surprise, and then Matt's tongue was forcing its way inside. The younger boy was pushing the blond against the table, stripping him of his vest, unlacing the leather pants. Mello had been so shocked at the onslaught of kissing and groping, so unused to being touched, even so roughly. And then Matt's hand was on his dick, and it was hard in response to just that touch. They were still kissing, and it felt so good, it felt like an escape. The blonde's mind was screaming for him to stop, to keep from letting this one last sin take over him.
Mello never told Matt to stop, even as he was bent over the kitchen table, waiting while Matt sucked on his fingers before shoving them into his ass. He'd struggled at first, was terrified that this would hurt, that Matt was going to have his way with him and then throw him out again. But Matt was whispering that he'd missed him, that he was a bastard for leaving him alone, and the digits poking against something he'd only ever heard about had him forgetting that sex was bad, that sex with a man was even worse. Surely he'd go to hell for liking this so much.
He'd thought that it was over, when the redhead extracted his fingers. But then Matt spit into his hand, sighing as he stroked the length of his erection before tugging Mello's pants completely off his hips. The redhead pushed all the way inside with one thrust, pulling Mello's hips back, making him lose his balance. The blond had to place his palms flat on the table to keep steady as Matt continued forcing himself in and out, laughing when he hit the blonde's prostate and Mello shivered, moaned. The redhead's spit had been just enough to keep the entrance from being too painful, and he'd assumed that Mello wasn't a virgin, dressed as he was. Matt sure as hell wasn't, and Mello was a year older than him.
It had been over quick, the redhead stroking Mello's erection while he fucked him, bruising his hips with his fingers, crushing his stomach into the edge of the table. Mello had kept wondering how it could feel so good, why he was enjoying letting his best friend force him into one of the worst acts of sin while his rosary still hung from his neck. But then he was orgasming, the sensations of Matt's dick against his prostate and his hand stroking him overwhelming him, making him forget god, and the mafia, and Wammy's, and every other stupid thing that kept him awake at night. He felt something dripping down his legs before he realized that Matt had come inside him. Mello hadn't even had time to ask what the hell was going on before being carried to the bedroom.
"Oh my god, Mello, please be fucking joking." Matt begged, the memories of that first night still fresh in his mind. "The things I did to you! Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Your first time, and I bent you over the fucking table. Oh shit, baby, I'm so sorry." Guiltily, Matt was aware that the thoughts were already arousing him, and he crossed his legs to hide the evidence. Even looking at the blond now, pupils still dilated, blood crusting in his hair, he was unbearably gorgeous. Matt was beginning to hate himself.
"Why? It felt so good. I liked it." The blond hadn't had time to recover from his first experience, already having been dragged onto a bed and handcuffed, his pants lost somewhere on the way. Matt had thrown Mello's legs over his shoulders, again only using a little spit before he fucked him the second time. He'd woken up the next morning, still attached to the headboard, sore with bruises on his wrists and his, covered in hickeys and scratches.
"No! No, it's all wrong. I should have been more gentle with you. I should have at least asked first. Shit, I didn't even use any lube! It must have hurt. Please forgive me." Mello crawled into Matt's lap, straddling his hips. "Stop it. No. Next time we do it, we're doing it right. There'll be flowers and candles and I'll be really fucking careful. We're going vanilla from now on. I am never doing anything like that to you again."
"Uh huh. Sure." Mello licked Matt's bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, muffling any further promises of boring old missionary positions, of gentleness and sex that lasted for hours. "Blah blah blah. Sounds really lame." The blond nipped Matt's collar bone, warm breath tickling the younger man's neck. He'd almost been distracted, had his hands resting on Mello's ass, drawing him closer.
"You're not playing fucking fair. Quit that. Right now. Bad Mello." The blond giggled, kissed him again. Somehow, Matt's jacket ended up on the floor before he'd noticed Mello taking it off. The blond was working on the shirt next, running his nails up the redhead's stomach while pulling the shirt over his head. The redhead was tugging at the hem, trying to pull it down but was stopped by the t-shirt covering his eyes, his arms tangled up in it as it was yanked over his head. Then Mello leaned in, biting his nipple, making the younger boy's hips jerk up. "Hey! Ouch." The blond bit the other nipple, smiling around the pink flesh caught between his teeth. "Unh. Hey..."
"You were saying? Come on, baby, take me to bed. I know you want to." At first, the redhead thought to argue, but then a wicked idea came to mind. Maybe he couldn't get the stubborn blond to agree to some nice vanilla sex, but he might be able to trick him into it. He lifted the older boy up, Mello's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Their bedroom was an absolute wreck, and Matt was having difficulty not tripping over the various clothing that littered the floor. He was a bit surprised that the blond was allowing it to be so messy, but he had been preoccupied lately.
"Sit." Matt dropped his lover on the edge of the bed, untangling his long skinny limbs from around his waist and neck. The brat was definitely stronger than he looked, and more stubborn than he'd ever been. Mello whined, grabbed Matt's belt before he could walk away and pulled him on down. Mello had spread his legs, and Matt had landed perfectly between them, pressed up against the blonde's clothed erection, assaulted with thrusts of the older boy's hips and kisses to his lips and neck. "Hey, you're cheating." Again, the blond giggled, pawing at him, purring in his ear. Mello's breath was so hot against his throat, the sounds he made so distracting. He could have him right now, could save his plans for another night. Mello obviously wasn't going to wait.
"Fuck me." Mello reached between them, unzipping Matt's pants, freeing his erection, using his foot to slide the fabric off of Matt's hips. They fell to the floor, Matt kicking them the rest of the way off while the blond removed his sweatpants, t-shirt quickly following. Again, the redhead's traitorous thoughts almost ruined his plans. They were both completely nude, both ready. Matt found himself wishing Mello really was a girl, so that he wouldn't have to worry so much about preparation, not that Mello seemed all that concerned. He was already grabbing Matt's dick, guiding it between his legs. "Now."
"Not yet baby." Somehow the redhead managed to escape, leaving Mello panting and writhing on the bed. His hand had traveled down his stomach, fingertips lightly playing over the skin just above his hips. The blond really did have a lot of feminine habits. One of his favorite spots was his stomach, all Matt had to do was touch the sensitive skin, lightly kiss it, and it would turn Mello on. Matt was digging through his dresser drawers, having trouble finding what he searched for because Mello was calling his name, his hand drifting lower to stroke his erection. The younger boy shook his head, reminded himself that he needed to hurry, or Mello would ruin everything. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blond sucking on the fingers of his other hand, still jerking himself off.
"Mmm, baby," The blond had pushed a finger into his ass, working it in and out while still keeping the rhythm with his other hand. Tease. "Matt, come help me baby. You always know just how to touch me. This isn't enough." The blond seemed to be doing quite well on his own, but his words offered quite the ego boost, which was probably the desired effect. Perhaps he knew of the redhead's plans, but the younger boy hoped that this wasn't a ploy, that Mello really didn't have the ability to pleasure himself as well as his lover could.
"Hold on baby. And please, stop that. I'm going to come just looking at you." The redhead came back, setting some things on the stand beside the bed. Mello raised his eyes when he saw a pair of handcuffs, and Matt let him think what he wanted. They were a last resort, if he couldn't get Mello to let him be nice for once, then he'd just have to tie him up. He hoped the blond would relax, but knew him better than that. Whatever the reason, he seemed determined to make this like every other night, and Matt was not about to let that happen. "Alright sweetheart, turn around." The blond complied, bringing the legs that had been dangling off the edge fully onto the bed, then turning over on his stomach. This was one of the ways Matt could get in deeper, could fuck him harder with less strain on either of their backs or legs. The blond pressed his face into a pillow, bringing his knees up under him. He put his arms straight out in front of himself, gripping a post in the headboard, waiting for his lover to put the cuffs on. "God, you're so fucking pretty."
"Shut the hell up and get on with it." Matt smirked, loving the effect he had on the blond. The fact that he was the only one to have Mello willingly, the only one to bring him so much pleasure, was almost better than the sight before him. He pried Mello's legs apart, sitting between them, kissing his lower back while he kneaded the backs of his thighs. The blond purred, pushing his hips up expectantly. Matt's hand slid up his thighs, went to either of the cheeks of his ass, spreading them as he licked and kissed and nipped the flesh just above it. "Unh. Matt..." The blond whined. The redhead pushed his tongue into the blonde's ass, and Mello gave a shrill little cry of frustration. This was not what he wanted, he wanted Matt to fuck him. But it felt so good, and soon the blond was arching into the touch, begging for more. The redhead continued the attention until neither of them could stand it. It had seemed like hours, and Mello was more than a little embarrassed that such a gentle act felt so good, that he didn't need Matt's cock in him to be whining and begging for more.
"God, baby, you taste so good." The redhead got off the bed, retrieving the lube and coating his fingers in it. He stuck one of them in his mouth, wondering how they got the stuff to taste exactly like Mello's favorite treat. The blond had rolled over, his tongue darting out as he watched Matt lick the chocolate flavored lube from his fingers, squeezing more of the bottle. Again, Mello's hand drifted down to stroke his erection, and Matt poured some of the lube onto the blonde's dick, placing his own hand over his lover's. "You're such a goddamned tease."
"Mmhmm." Mello's eyes were closed as he lost himself in the sensation. Matt's hand was stroking faster, and Mello let go, letting the redhead do the work. Matt climbed back onto the bed, again sitting between the blonde's legs.
"Up." The redhead commanded, bringing a pillow under the older boy's hips. Mello complied, eyes still closed. Matt began to lick from the base of Mello's dick to the head, then wrapped his lips around it, relaxing his throat as the blond pushed into his mouth. Mello's hand was in his hair, just petting, twirling it around his fingers, pulling at some of the knots there. Then Mello had a fistful of it, pushing the redhead against him, almost choking him when he felt the tip of Matt's finger push against his ass. The redhead pushed in further, crooking his finger until it pressed against the blonde's prostate.
"Ah! Oh, god, Matt. More. Please." Mello was still mumbling incoherently, Matt adding a second finger, slowly drawing both out, in, slowly, too slow, not enough the blond was mumbling, between whimpering Matt's name and telling him how good it felt. "Please, baby."
The blond grabbed the back of Matt's neck, pulling him off his dick while the redhead still teased him with his fingers. The combined sensations were too much, and he was going to come soon. Matt extracted his fingers, letting Mello pull him on top of him. They kissed, the redhead was determined to be gentle but Mello was bucking his hips up, wrapping both legs around the younger man's waist, then flipping them over without ever losing contact. He straddled Matt's hips, rubbing his ass against his lover's erection, then taking it in his hand. The tip of Matt's dick pressed into him, and the redhead was going to let him do it, until his face twisted in pain. "For fucks sake Mello, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I want it." Matt pushed the blond off of his lap, laying him on his back again. Mello looked up expectantly, spreading his legs, motioning for his lover to come back. The redhead got up, retrieved the handcuffs, and Mello smirked. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to play?" There was a moment of insecurity, flashing in the blue eyes, then he quickly pushed it away. It was too late, Matt had seen it, but didn't know where it was coming from. The blond was mistaken, thought that Matt wanted to take the reigns because he wasn't good enough. He wasn't pleasing Matt.
"Yeah, me too. But not like that. Damn it, Mello, the one time I try to be nice to you and you choose to lose your mind. Just what made you decide to do that?" There were so many lies Mello could have told, so many excuses he could have given. Matt wouldn't believe any of them, and he sure as hell wasn't about to believe the truth. Yes, fucking Matt might hurt a little, but he needed it. He knew that his lover thought this was some sort of post-trauma thing, that he was intentionally trying to be rough because the attempted rape had made him feel insecure, or worthless, or cheap, or whatever it was. The truth was that none of that mattered. What had to be done had been done, and there was no point in regretting it. The one thing that did bother him was that after he began to realize his feelings for the younger boy, he'd never wanted anyone else to touch him again. Someone had, but it wasn't Mello's fault. He didn't make it happen. He had never planned on letting the bastard get that far. He was going to kill him, things just got out of hand. So really, there was nothing to feel guilty about. He wasn't trying to hurt himself, or to apologize for letting another man touch him. He just wanted to be close to Matt. He was in love with him, and every time that they had sex was absolutely amazing, rough or not, because they were as close as they could ever get.
"You're blowing this way out of proportion. Why can't we just have nice, uncomplicated sex? You said I'm losing it? Look at you, this isn't like you. You don't get off on this vanilla bullshit." The redhead hung his head, pausing in the middle of placing a cuff around the blonde's wrist. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe being nice to him would be just as bad. The redhead removed the cuff, tossed the things on the floor. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to keep you from pulling that shit again. But obviously that isn't going to turn out the way I want. I don't think I can trust myself anyway, having you at my mercy like that." The redhead winked, hoping to lighten the situation, but Mello was frowning. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry." Matt crawled into the bed, pulling the blond against his chest. "I'm trying so hard to make up for not being there tonight. But I don't know what to do, ok? I killed him, and it's not enough. I just wanted to make you feel good. I can't kill him again, right? So what's there left to do? Help me out, here, sweetheart, I'm at a loss. You're the brains of this operation, come up with a plan already."
"Just hold me. If you're not going to fuck me, just hold me." Mello buried his face in Matt's neck, breathing in the scent he'd started out hating, that he'd been complaining about long after it had actually started to become a comfort. "You need a shower."
The redhead laughed, amazed at how the older boy cycle through so many emotions so quickly. He'd gone from being turned on, to pissed off, to snuggling, and now he was complaining about Matt's hygiene? "Damn, Mello, I love you." The redhead pulled his lover closer, petting his hair. The blond was so quiet all of a sudden that he thought he might be falling asleep. But then his shoulders were shaking, no, his entire body was shivering in Matt's arms. "Baby? Are you crying? What's wrong?"
It took several minutes before the older boy was calm enough to answer, and even then it was barely whispered. "Don't say it if you don't mean it. Don't use that to make me feel better." Oh. Wow. Just, wow.
Matt laughed, and the blond again tensed in his arms, waiting for the younger boy to taunt him, to tell him how stupid he was for getting more out of this than he was. "You really are a natural blond, huh? Christ, Mello, seriously. You actually think I don't mean it?" No response, other than a sniffle. Matt could feel the wetness of the blonde's tears on his shoulder. He reached for the older boy's chin, tilted it until they were eye to eye. "You think your fuck buddy is going to lay his ass on the line, not once, but dozens of times? You think if I just wanted a pretty blond to fuck that I wouldn't find one that's a little less hazardous to my health? Really, not that you aren't the prettiest thing on two legs, but if that's all I cared about I wouldn't have done what I did tonight. Or last night. Or last week. Now that I think about it, I'm starting to wonder if you're trying to kill me." Mello smiled. "See, there, that's why I stay. That smile, the real one, not the 'aren't-I-pretty-don't-you-want-me' one, or the 'look-how-scary-I-am' one, but the genuine kind. I live just to fucking make you happy. I love you, you stupid bastard."
"Really? You don't have to lie, it's alright. I won't be upset. Just don't say it if you don't mean it. I love you, Matt, but I don't want to force you into anything. I know I'm pretty much ruining your life, and I keep almost getting you killed. I don't know how you deal with it." Mello tried to free himself from Matt's grip on his chin, but it was no use. Then the redhead was kissing him, rolling him on his back, then laying this head on his chest.
"Weren't you listening at all? See, this is your problem, you've got selective hearing. You're not ruining my life. Even if you were, I think I'd probably like it." The blond sighed, and Matt bit his nipple, leaving a perfect imprint of his teeth behind. Mello slapped him. "You know, I always thought those rankings back at Wammy's were fucked or something, but maybe Near really is smarter than you. At least he knows how to listen. Doesn't know how to talk nearly as well as you, but he does listen pretty well."
"What did you just say?" The blonde's voice lowered, the words practically hissed out between clenched teeth. He pushed Matt, making the younger boy almost roll off the bed. Matt recovered, holding Mello's wrists to keep the assault at bay. The blond kicked at him, barely missing his groin. "Don't ever mention that name in this room again! Unless, maybe, you'd rather be fucking him. That it? Near get you all hot and bothered?"
"Eww, thanks. Way to go, you've successfully scared my cock away for good. I think it's gone into hiding permanently. Pajamas are definitely a turn off. And he looks like a friggin' five year old. Oh god. Eww, Mello, really, that was fucking low." The blond hopping into Matt's lap, raising an eyebrow when the redhead's still very erect dick pressed against his ass. "Ok, so, it hasn't gone away. I think that may be because I just remembered something. Did you just say you love me?"
"Now who's got selective hearing?" Mello replied, reaching between them, stroking Matt despite them both having decided that sex was a bad idea tonight.
"Kind of...mmm...hard to think straight when you're doing that." Mello increased the pace, grip tightening in a way that might hurt if it didn't feel so damned good. "Mmm, baby, we can't." The blond kissed Matt, brought his hand down, guiding it to his own erection.
"I know." Mello smiled, and this time there was the evil glint in his eye that could frighten and arouse Matt simultaneously.
"Hey, how about we...switch places?" Mello raised an eyebrow, not having to voice the question that was so obvious in his expression. "Alright, yeah, I know. You hate that. I don't know why. It pretty much rocks."
"That's nice." It wasn't exactly the most romantic of statements, but out of two of them, Matt was definitely not the poet.
"What's it gonna take to get you to stop this?" How was this fair? Matt was the 'top' in the relationship, shouldn't he be the one in control, shouldn't he at least be able to think straight? Mello's strokes were increasing in pace, and Matt moved his own hand in time. The redhead was waiting for it to go wrong, waiting for his lover to demand that they have sex. He didn't think he could stop him now if he tried. With their admissions of love, with Mello's skilled little fingers bringing him closer and closer to orgasm, the blond had both of his favorite organs right where he wanted them. "God, Mello, I love you so much. Really, you might as well have my heart in the palm of your hand. I love you so much it hurts."
As quickly as the blond had decided that he was the more skilled with words, his mind changed. Yeah, Matt's words sounded like something out of a cheap romance novel, but as far as he knew, the redhead wasn't into that kind of thing. For once, those green eyes weren't shielded from him, and Mello wasn't turning away from the attention. Matt had only tried to lie to him once, when they were very young, and though now the blond couldn't remember the subject; he remembered how easy it had been to read right through his friend, to see his feelings as if they were etched into his forehead. The redhead never lied to him, because he couldn't. Mello wasn't exactly the romantic type either, had never thought that he'd use the term 'making love', but now, this might be as close to it as either of them could ever get. "I love you Matt."
Mello always came first, and this time was no exception. Again, the redhead felt a swell of pride at having done so little while getting such an amazing reaction. The blonde's appreciative noises were muffled by another kiss, by Matt's own (much louder) grunts and moans, the blond still stroking him, unintentionally torturing the redhead. "Mello..." The blond quickened the pace, still not understanding why Matt hadn't come already. He could last for hours if he had to, but he was bucking up into Mello's hand, whimpering, eyes squeezed shut. Mello was so tired, and even though Matt's 'I love you' had been the most wonderful thing to happen to him, and he wanted to hear it again and again, he could really use the rest.
"Damn it, Matt, hurry up, fucker." Mello's verbal abuse was almost enough, and Matt was so damn close, but the blond hadn't said it yet. Was he doing it on purpose, the sadistic little shit? The redhead was getting louder, and any minute now someone would be banging on their door, or the old lady downstairs would be thumping the ceiling with her cane. Then it hit Mello, the clarity managing to come through the post-orgasmic haze finally. "Aww, I'm sorry honey, you can come now." The blond hadn't even finished uttering those magic words, before he felt the sticky fluid running down his hand. He waited until his lover opened those pretty green eyes, then brought his hand up and licked it clean. They'd need a shower later. But taunting Matt was so much fun.
"Ouch, Mello. You really are a bitch. But I love you." It seemed that once he'd said it the first time, he couldn't get enough. And obviously neither could Mello, who pulled him down, lying so they would face each other as they fell asleep.
"Bitch, huh? Don't make me say it again." The redhead narrowed his eyes, attempting to be threatening but somehow pulling off something that was almost cute. Mello laughed, that genuine, gorgeous sound. "You're not scary, pussy." The redhead pulled him closer, and the older boy felt an unfamiliar feeling. It was like when they'd been children, when there were no monsters but the ones under their bed, and even those could be scared away from nothing more than the flick of a light switch. It had been so long since he'd felt that way that it even took his genius mind a while to remember how to describe the feeling. Oh yeah. Safe. "I love you too."