Second chapter! Mello's POV. Chapters will alternate between Matt's and Mello's points of view. This chapter is a bit longer than the first. I'm not sure if all the chapters after this will be more similar in length to this one or the first one, but that's the wonder of writing something serially. Also, I think in the future there will be quite a bit more of a wait between chapters, because I'm currently in the middle of a break from school, but I'm about to go on a two-week-long trip, and after that school starts again. In any case, happy new year, happy early birthday to me, here's the chapter!
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Mello shuts himself inside his room and shakily clicks the lock on the knob. Disturbances: not welcome. He sits on his bed, puts his head in his hands, rubs at his temples, sighs, gets up, and starts pacing. He should go to bed, he really should go to bed, but he's shaking too much to be still. He's got all this weird, nervous, erotic energy keeping him from even sitting down.
What was that? What the hell was that? Mello replays the situation over and over in his mind, from the time he got home until just now. It was all normal, it was all normal until...literally a minute ago. Maybe two minutes, now. Okay, it wasn't normal that Matt woke up and came out into the living room, or that he asked about Mello's night, or that he stuck around and sat there in silence while Mello thought about how unfair it was that Matt just got to say crazy flirtatious things and be completely oblivious to their effects. But it was all at least plausible right up until Mello got up. It was all believable until Matt grabbed his hand and pushed him up against the wall and-
Kissed him. Mello stops pacing for a second and brings a hand to his lips. Matt kissed him. In the dumbest, most humiliating way possible, but Matt kissed him. And not a sweet, soft, innocent kiss either. Mello tried, to his credit, he really tried, to keep it PG, but Matt was ruthless, and now Mello still tastes fire when he licks his lips. If he closes his eyes, he can see how it would have played out if they'd continued - fingers hooked in belt loops, hands everywhere, hitched breaths, closed doors. Matt drawing him in the whole way, burning him to ashes like one of his cigarettes. But as breathtakingly hot as it is to imagine how things could have gone, Mello's glad he stopped himself before they went any further. A pity kiss is bad enough; he's not sure he could handle an honest-to-God pity fuck.
Especially from Matt, Mello thinks as he resumes pacing. A pity fuck from Matt would be awful for too many reasons - first and foremost because he's Mello's roommate. They're currently five months into a two-year lease, so no matter what happens between them, they're stuck seeing each other every day for another year and a half. So far, and through the last three years they've been living together, they've managed to avoid most tension with rules. Conflict caused by action is easy to resolve: just change the action. But conflict caused by thought is impossible to resolve. How could Mello live with a roommate who saw him as a charity case?
And then there's the fact that they're best friends. Mello can't deal with his own best friend looking at him like he's pathetic. Not that he thinks Matt really sees him as pathetic-Matt better not, for as long as they've known each other. But things change between people when sex is involved, and if Mello ever accepted pity sex from Matt, then he'd never be able to look Matt in the eye again. Friends are supposed to be equals. Once one person kneels to the other, it's over.
And then - and then! - even beyond the scope of the issue at hand is the fact that Mello has a giant stupid crush on Matt. Matt doesn't know, since Mello goes to great lengths to ensure that he never shows it, but sometimes Matt makes it really hard for Mello not to screw up. Take, for example, two fucking seconds ago. Just the kiss alone was dangerous. Were Mello a less prideful person, he may have given in and ruined everything. It's not that hard to give up your power when you have a tenuous grasp on it anyway. But if Mello did that, if he ever did that, his friendship with Matt would be over….
Mello lets out the breath he's been holding. He shouldn't have to convince himself that sex with Matt is a bad idea. It just is a bad idea, forever and always, under any circumstances. Especially under these circumstances.
Not to mention, that can't even be where tonight was going. Mello brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck and takes a few deep, controlled breaths. He's being unreasonable. He needs to calm down. Matt's straight.
Matt's straight, and Mello let his feelings get the best of him. The kiss was just a kiss, a well-intentioned consolation gesture from a misguided best friend. It makes no difference that Mello stopped it before it went anywhere, because it had nowhere to go to begin with. Matt probably thought it was what Mello wanted - and, to be honest, he wasn't entirely wrong. The pity part was humiliating, but the kiss itself was...nice. But that was all it was.
Mello stops pacing and sits back down on his bed, glad to have broken the chain of dumb, obsessive thoughts. He starts unbuttoning his work shirt so he can change into pajamas. Matt's straight, he reminds himself again, and blocks the kiss out of his mind. It's past four in the morning, and he's been up since eight. Time to stop thinking about it and get ready for bed.
When he gets back from brushing his teeth, he's put it all out of his mind. Accepted it for what it was. All but forgotten it even happened. He pulls back the sheets and slides into bed, hoping for sleep to come easily.
Instead, when he shuts his eyes, he sees Matt's eyes staring back. He feels the imprint of Matt's hand on his wrist, the press of the wall against his back, the ghost of Matt's breath against his lips. Mello remembers the slow slide of Matt's tongue against his own and the pinch of Matt's teeth gently teasing at his lower lip, changing the kiss from plausibly chaste to undeniably sexual.
He opens his eyes and sits up, resting his head in his hands. A pity kiss. Does pity really go that far? It can't possibly. Can it? Pulling his knees up so he's got something to rest his arms on while he thinks, Mello replays the kiss in his head.
Did he miss something? Is he remembering it wrong? Wasn't it Matt who made all the moves? Mello tries to think of a place his memory could have screwed up, but everything's pretty concrete. Matt grabbed his wrist. Matt kissed him. Matt led the kiss. And unless Mello's memory is really off, Matt coaxed Mello into a deeper kiss, even though Mello tried to avoid it. But Matt's….
Mello's got a bad feeling about where this line of thinking leads. And yet, he can't stop following it. Things don't add up. Things don't make sense. He tries to dream up scenarios where he can build off what he knows to be true about Matt and still arrive at what happened tonight, but he comes up pretty empty-handed. It's not long before a possibility slithers uninvited into his head: maybe his original assumptions are wrong. Maybe Matt's not straight.
Mello immediately rejects the thought. Ever since they were seventeen, Mello's clung to Matt being straight as one of his main motivations for keeping himself so controlled. It's no use threatening to destroy a friendship if there's no hope of building something else in its place. So he tries to ignore how everything lines up, tries to puzzle the situation out in a way that still makes sense if Matt's straight. But everything else he can think of is too roundabout-complicated to be rational. Whether Mello likes it or not, tonight may have destabilized Matt's presupposed heterosexuality - the foundation of everything Mello's ever believed about him - and now one of the pillars holding up Mello's self-control is crumbling.
Ugh. Mello kicks his feet out and flips onto his stomach. Okay. Finally, he's made the decision he should've made half an hour ago. He's not going to deal with this right now. He'll sleep on it, and puzzle everything out later when he's not so damn tired. He slams his face into the pillow and growls.
Everything will be better tomorrow. He'll make sure of it.
When Mello wakes up, it's noon, and Matt's already long gone. That's just as well, Mello thinks. He needs some time to breathe anyway. He grabs some clothes and heads for the shower.
Saturdays are pretty peaceful now that Mello's working at EMBR. He generally doesn't wake up until after Matt leaves for work, so he's got the apartment to himself for his entire morning routine. Or, afternoon routine. It's nice to have some time that's all his own.
While he's in the middle of the shower, Mello's phone rings. He grabs it from where it's buzzing furiously on top of the toilet tank to check the number.
"Shit," he says when he sees who it is. So much for time to breathe.
He answers while quickly turning the shower off. He's still got shampoo on the underside of his hair, and bubbles of body wash are popping on his calves, but that can wait.
"Jack," he greets, rubbing his left calf with his right foot.
"Mello. Glad I caught you. Is now a good time?"
"Yeah, it's fine. What's up? Got something for me?"
"Course, would I call you if I didn't?"
"You never have in the past." Mello quickly dries his hands and phone on the nearest towel.
Jack's scratchy laugh comes through as mostly static. "So listen. We got this car here that we gotta have painted."
"Painting a car, huh." Most of the jobs Jack lines up for Mello are simple labor jobs, but occasionally he gets one like this.
"Mmhm. We got the equipment, the paint, everything, but we need the manpower. Are you the man for the job?"
"You can't spare the men for that? Where are the guys who usually take care of that sort of shit?"
"More pressing matters, Mello. We've got a lot going on at the moment. So?"
Mello chews his lip. "How long's it gonna take?"
"Two days, maybe three. The longer we sit on this car, the...well, never mind."
"I can put in six hours today, but no promises after that. Still want me?"
"I can line up somebody else for the rest of it. We want you for as long as you want us. 'No one's better than Mello,' that's what the boss says."
Mello rolls his eyes. "Does he really."
"No joke, he does." There's a brief pause, then, "So uh, I know I bring this up every so often, but I just want you to know that the offer still stands. I could get plenty more interesting jobs lined up for you if you want. You're a smart kid, Mello, and the boss likes you...we sure could use someone with your brain..."
"Not interested, Jack. I just want the job and the cash."
"There's a lot more cash working with us, rather than for us." Jack's voice has taken a low tone. He must think it sounds enticing.
Mello's starting to get uncomfortable with the cold, soapy water dripping down his back. He needs to wrap this up. "Look," he says, "the way things are now, I don't have a damn clue what you or your organization do. I plan to keep it that way. So, thanks, but no thanks."
"Hmm," says Jack. "Never guessed you for that moral-compass type. Well, I guess we couldn't use you then. I'll tell the boss that you-"
"It's not a moral thing," Mello interrupts, almost offended. "I have goals, Jack, and I intend to meet them. Getting in with you and your boss won't help me any. If it would have, believe me, I'd have jumped at the chance when you first asked. Now stop asking."
Jack gives a little defeated laugh. "All right then. Six hours, we can give you 300. Would've been more, but if you can't put in the work we can't put out the cash."
"300 sounds fine."
"Good. What time will you be in?"
"1, 1:30 maybe."
"Sounds fine, I'll be waiting at the garage then. You've been there before, right?"
"If it hasn't changed since last time, yeah."
"Good. See you soon." The click from the other end signals the end of the call.
Mello sighs and turns the shower back on.
Mello pulls up at the garage a little after 1:30. The first thing he sees when he gets out of his car is Jack approaching him.
"You're late," Jack says in a singsong, accusing tone.
Mello makes a show of pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the time. "Well, look at that. So I am. What are you gonna do about it, Jack?"
Jack's face shows pretty clearly that he's not going to do anything about it. Instead of responding, though, he just says, "Come around to the side entrance. I'll show you the car."
They bypass the big overhead doors at the front of the garage, which are conspicuously closed, and head around to a door on the north side of the building. Jack holds the door open for Mello, and they walk inside. The garage looks almost exactly like it did the last time Mello was here: various car parts in one corner, stuff packed away in cardboard boxes in another corner, car repair and maintenance equipment lining the walls. The one big difference is the light blue, four-door sedan in the middle of the room that's had its hood, trunk, gas tank lid, license plate, and trim removed and set on a work table a little ways away from the car.
"Some of our guys were in here this morning prepping," Jack explains. "But once you leave, I've got some more outside hands to finish the job. It's gonna be white, but you won't get to that part in six hours."
The sedan looks way more innocuous than Mello was expecting, though once he gives it some thought he guesses organizations that want to keep their operations secret probably don't go around in flashy cars. Still, it's a bit of a letdown.
"So, why are you bothering to paint the car, if it's risky to hold onto it?" Mello asks. Seems to him like too much of a gamble. "Why not just get rid of it?"
Jack grins. "Thought you weren't interested in knowing what we do."
Mello grimaces. "I'm not. I'm just...asking for the sake of asking."
"Well, if you really wanna know, I'll tell you."
"That's okay. So, what's the first step?"
Jack leads Mello over to a collection of equipment next to the work table. "First, you gotta clean the car and all those parts. Use this." He gestures at a bright neon yellow bottle of concentrated car wash soap. "You'll just need a capful in a whole bucket of water, so don't overdo it."
"...You've hired me to wash a car."
"And sand it, and mask it, and, if you have time, prime it."
Mello rolls his eyes.
Jack shrugs. "Hey, you're the one who can't put in the hours. If you could swing it, we could have you in tomorrow too to do the actual paint job. I'm sure you'd be much better than the other guys we've hired to do it."
For a split second, Mello considers it. He could put off his plans with Matt until the late evening and come back here. He's pretty sure Matt wouldn't mind, plus it would be extra money to put away. Then he remembers how much of a pain it would be to have to make up a story that would explain why he wasn't free on a Sunday afternoon, and he makes his call.
"Sorry," he says. "Busy all day."
"Can't be helped, then. Sorry, Mello." Jack tosses a large orange chenille sponge at Mello. "Better get to work."
Mello pulls his hair into a ponytail and starts working. For all that he's used to doing manual labor, particularly for this organization, he can't help but feel stupid washing the car, even though it's not "washing the car" as much as it is "prepping the paint for sanding."
Especially not with Jack standing around "supervising," that asshole. "Gotta say," said asshole pipes up unhelpfully, "white's not your color. Also, are those blood stains on your shirt?"
Mello looks at the reddish-purple smudges on his shirt and wonders how anyone could mistake them for blood. "Hair dye," he says in response.
"You dye your hair?"
Mello narrows his eyes and turns around to look Jack in the face. "Does my hair look red to you?"
Jack raises his hands palms-forward. "Hey, I've never dyed my hair, I don't know what dye looks like."
Mello goes back to scrubbing the car. It's going to be so fucking clean. And in a few minutes, he's going to sand it so fucking hard. "My roommate dyes his."
"That his shirt, then?"
Instead of responding, Mello moves from the body of the car to the pieces on the work table. After a few moments, Jack stops hovering and goes to do something else in another part of the garage.
After that, the work gets easier to deal with. Mello finishes up cleaning the car and moves on to sanding, starting at the work table. He falls into a comfortable rhythm about halfway through the hood, and the slow, methodical work proves to be a great backdrop to his thoughts. He can even ignore Jack watching from the corner, and it's as though he's gotten back the time to himself that he lost this morning. Afternoon.
Mello's thoughts briefly wander to the new coffee maker that's still sitting in its box in the living room. Somehow, Matt didn't manage to set it up last night or this morning. Mello's got the feeling that he's going to have to set it up himself, which is frustrating since Matt was the one who wanted it in the first place, but it's just par for the course. Matt does frustrating things all the time.
Which leads Mello to last night. After sleeping on it, he's not the mess of emotions he was right after it happened, but he's still a little overwhelmed. Matt kissed him. Matt might not be straight. How strange.
How terrifying.
There's a part of Mello that still doesn't want to believe that that possibility exists. That part of him thinks it's too dangerous. Sure, taking cash-in-hand jobs from shady organizations is one thing, that part says, but admitting that his best friend - his crush - could be attracted to guys is too risky. That latter one is hope.
They're both hope, he supposes. They're both dangerous hope. But in the former case, it's a hope he's been holding on to for years. He's been tested, time and again, and he's pulled through. And he's learned that if he doesn't manage to put away enough money in the end, he'll be fine. Honestly, if all else fails, he can just take Jack up on his offer and join his organization...whoever they are, and whatever they do. It's a path he could carve out for himself, even if it's not the one he wants. He's sure he could tell Matt eventually. Hell, Matt's smart, too. Maybe they both could join.
The other case is...well, it's just riskier. It's a hope that Mello stamped out a long time ago and has kept from reigniting with one simple, fundamental belief. Now that that belief's being tested, Mello's not sure how he'll respond if he lets his hope come back.
He hates to admit it, but he's curious to find out. Must be the hope talking already.
The garage suddenly smells like gasoline. Mello wonders, for a split second, how he would react if Matt turned out to be bi and chose to spend his life with another guy. Then he realizes how dumb the thought is - Matt? Settling down? With anyone? Ever? - and puts it out of his mind. Mello doesn't think Matt's dated anyone in his life, save a couple month-long stints in high school. And plus, no matter who Matt decides to date, how long they're together, how much they love each other, they still won't have that bond-
"Hey, hey!" Jack interrupts, setting a container of gasoline down to hurry over to Mello. "Don't strip it down to bare metal, you're just trying to sand it down a little!"
Mello looks down. He's been sanding the same spot for too long, and he's gone through almost all the paint. "Sorry," he says, and puts a little more of his attention toward his work.
He gets the whole car sanded and masked by the time he's got to leave for his shift at EMBR. Three hundred dollars safely in his pocket, he prepares to get going. He changes in the car, checking his face in the rearview mirror. He's still got his hair in a ponytail, he realizes upon seeing his reflection. At EMBR, he only ever wears it down. Taking the ponytail out would leave a weird kink in his hair though, and he definitely doesn't have time to go back home and shower, so he decides to leave it the way it is. Maybe the "I clearly have no idea what to do with my hair today" look is sexy, he thinks, rolling his eyes at his own thought.
His shift passes uneventfully, though it's slow for a Saturday night, which affects his tips. Mello blames the ponytail. After last call, he and Rafaela, who's on shift with him, close up the bar quickly, so they can go home a few minutes early.
It's around 3:30 when Mello gets home. He opens the door quietly, expecting Matt to be asleep, but when he comes in, all the lights are on and Matt's laying on the couch, his weirdo goggles over his eyes, playing something on his 3DS. There's an empty Rockstar can laying on its side on the coffee table.
The new coffee maker still has not been taken out of its box. Mello knew it.
"Thanks for the Rockstar," Matt says. "How was your shift?"
"Slow," Mello responds, and goes to the fridge. He pulls out the nearly-empty can of whipped cream, gives it a few shakes, and sprays the rest into his mouth.
"Gross," Matt says.
"Bite me," says Mello through a mouthful of whipped cream. He turns around just in time to see Matt waving a middle finger in the air. He swallows. "Yeah, fuck you too." He pulls open the pantry door and grabs a chocolate bar off the candy shelf.
"So, why are you still up?" Mello asks, coming to sit down on the couch. "Move your legs," he adds, swatting at Matt's knees.
Matt pulls his legs up so his knees are bent. Mello sits on his feet. "I dunno. Just kinda...waiting for you, I guess."
At that, Mello's gaze snaps to Matt's face, then immediately returns to the floor. He shifts a little so he's not sitting on Matt's feet anymore. Matt never waits up for him. "Why? I'm just gonna go to bed."
Matt looks up for a second, then goes back to his game. "Haven't seen you all day."
"You never see me on Saturdays," Mello presses.
Matt nudges Mello with his foot. "Well, yeah," he says in a soft tone.
"You see me all the time every other day." Mello snaps off a bite of chocolate and turns to look at Matt. His head is cocked to one side, the tip of his tongue is just poking out from between his teeth, and his fingers are flying over the buttons of the 3DS. "Also, if you stayed up to see me, you might as well pay attention to me."
Matt curls his toes. "I'm paying attention to you. I'm just also paying attention to this." He curls his toes harder. "Whoa, shit. Ah. Fuck." Matt makes a face and turns off the game. "Okay, I guess you're right." He sets the 3DS on the coffee table next to the can, then he takes his goggles off and drops them on the floor.
Mello takes another bite of chocolate. "So, you never answered my question. Also, I can't see you, your knees are in the way."
Instead of sitting up, Matt drops his right foot to the floor and hoists his left leg over the back of the couch. He shrugs. "Happy?"
Mello doesn't stare. "Elated."
"That was a good deadpan, I'm impressed."
Mello moves in a little closer. To hear Matt better, Matt's been mumbling. "So."
There's a beat of silence. Matt's gaze flits away for a second, then flits back. "So, about last night."
About last night. Mello feels his heart speed up. "Yeah?"
"Well. Uh."
Mello waits.
"I'm sorry," Matt says.
Mello's heart sinks. He feels like he's suspended high in the air, ready to drop at Matt's next words. He leans away from Matt, just a little, and tilts his chin up. "For?"
"I'm sorry if it felt like I kissed you out of pity, or as a favor, or something. I don't know. I hope you don't feel bad about it."
"What?" Now Mello's confused. His heart is still racing, he still feels a creeping sense of dread, but now...he doesn't know where this conversation is going. He looks over at Matt.
Matt chews his lip. "Is that...not what you meant? You, uh. You thanked me. It was weird."
"Oh." Mello feels his face get hot. "Uh. Yeah. I mean, it was, wasn't it? A favor."
"Kinda." Matt shrugs. "But I wanted to." He flashes a little sheepish smile. "I liked it."
"You…" Liked it? Mello kind of assumed that was a given, since Matt's the one who...but okay. That's not an invalid thing for him to say, it's just confusing as shit. They experienced the same kiss, right? "Okay."
Matt adjusts his position. Mello doesn't stare. "I guess what I'm saying is I'm not averse to doing it again, as not a favor."
"...Oh." No. No, no, no. No. Mello will not have his resolve shaken again. The only way he's going to kiss Matt again - the only way he's even going to consider it - is if he figures this situation out. Right now, there are too many unknowns. Matt could still be straight, he tells himself. Matt could just be experimenting. Matt could be trying to cover his ass and placate Mello about last night. Matt thought it needed to be said that he enjoyed the kiss. One wrong move, and he could lose Matt forever. Mello will not kiss Matt again tonight.
"...So?" Matt draws Mello's attention back. He looks far too comfortable sprawled out like that, and he's got a little lopsided grin on his stupid dumb face, like he knows exactly how adorably attractive he is. His hair is mostly sticking up, but it's flattened in a little ring where the strap of the goggles pressed it down. It's grown out since the last time he dyed it, and his roots are getting long. He should probably dye it again soon.
"I wore my hair dyeing shirt today," Mello says stupidly.
Matt chuckles, and Mello swears he can smell a lit match. Then he's moving, shit, he's crawling over, what is he doing, he's between Matt's legs, and Matt breathes out another laugh and grabs at Mello's collar and now Mello's leaning in and fuck god damn it Matt.
Their lips meet. It burns. Matt's mouth is hot and intense, and Mello swears his lips will have blisters after this. Mello doesn't hold back this time, and now it's his tongue slipping into Matt's slightly open mouth, his teeth grazing Matt's bottom lip. This is bad, Mello thinks. He has to hold himself together, but it's so hard when Matt makes him want to douse himself with gasoline and set himself on fucking fire.
Matt breaks the kiss to murmur, "I like the ponytail," and then promptly rip it out. Mello's breath catches when Matt runs his fingers through his newly freed hair, then pulls him in for another kiss.
Mello's hyper-aware of his body, places he is and isn't touching Matt. He wants as much contact as possible, but he still knows to be careful. He runs a hand down Matt's side and tucks his ring finger into one of the belt loops on the front of Matt's jeans. He lets his other fingers play with the top of Matt's waistband. His thumb drops down just lower, skimming the dark denim covering the zipper. Maybe not...too careful….
Matt breaks the kiss again and looks Mello in the eyes. "Hey," he says.
"Hey." Mello leans in again but Matt turns his head away.
"I, um, think I should go to bed."
"Uh." Mello removes his hand from Matt's jeans, feeling stupid. His cheeks heat up. He feels Matt trying to meet his eyes but keeps his head turned away. "Yeah, sure." He gets off Matt and stays seated on the couch while Matt sits up.
"Mel?" Matt's hand finds Mello's thigh. "Everything okay?"
Mello takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Everything's fine," he says.
There's a moment where Mello thinks Matt is going to get up and leave, but he doesn't. Instead, he asks again, "Mello?"
"Yeah?"
"I did like that. It was just...a little fast. Or something. Yeah."
"Yeah," Mello repeats. He can't seem to manage a response that doesn't have "yeah" in it. He should go to bed too.
Matt does get up this time, murmuring a "good night" as he disappears down the hall and leaves Mello alone in the living room. Mello sighs and scratches at the back of his neck. He told himself. He told himself that he wasn't going to kiss Matt again, and now he's done it, and look where it's leaving him. It's a bad idea, he reminds himself for hopefully the last time. He needs more of a handle on the situation-on himself-before he can even think about it. He should know that by now.
Defeated, humiliated, and disappointed in himself, Mello turns off the lights and heads to bed.