Warnings for this chapter: Explicit sexual content, language, and violence. Please mind the M rating and enjoy!

Oh, got no reason, got not shame
Got no family I can blame
Just don't let me disappear
I'mma tell you everything
-Secrets by One Republic

The warm body beside me comes and goes over the course of the night. I'm only half awake to notice the times he leans over to whisper something like, "I'll be right back," into my ear. I do, however, remember how warm his breath felt against my cheek and the times when his hand would rest against my hip while he slept.

For the first time since all this started, I wake up refreshed. It feels like we've been dealing with this for weeks, when in reality it's only been a few days. It's been mentally and physically taxing, but finally I feel okay. My arm still aches, but I'm not tired.

The bed beside me is empty when I finally open my eyes. The sheets are tangled around my waist, warm and soft against my skin. I yawn, blinking my eyes a few times before slowly pushing myself up. My eyes settle on a pile of clothes at the edge of the bed, and suddenly I'm elated.

I throw off the covers, getting up to attack the pile. It's my clothes. Not borrowed, they're definitely mine. I never thought something so simple would make me so happy. I pull the pair of jeans off the pile, shaking out the shirt underneath them and looking around. There's no underwear. I feel a moment of irritation—no doubt he did this on purpose. Little bastard.

But I don't let it get to me. I pull on the jeans, reveling in the familiarity of something so silly. They fit perfectly. Then I remember, and my stomach ties in knots. The clothes I was wearing yesterday—or specifically the slacks where the cell phone was—are gone. They aren't on the floor where I left them. Panic rises in me, tightening my chest and making my stomach churn. I search around the room, trying to keep myself from freaking out. It's okay. I'm sure he still has it. I'm sure he hasn't gone through the pockets. I'm sure it's here…it's not here.

I dash out of the room without thinking, leaving my shirt behind on the bed. I'm too panicky to care that I'm half naked. I nearly trip over my bare feet as I skid to a halt in the main room. I expected to find Mello sitting on the couch, eating pizza or staring at a medicine bottle, but he's not here. Instead, I find three of his goons sitting around the room. I gulp.

They all look at me when I enter the room, each having a questioning look on their face. One man, sitting over on the couch, has the gull to lift up his hands and clap slowly, once, twice. He smiles slightly. "Look at that, Mello got himself a puppy."

My mouth falls open, my cheeks flushing. "Where's Mello?" I ask, my voice sounding gravelly.

The other two share a chuckle, the one who's speaking leaning back on the couch. He props up his feet on the coffee table. "Listen kid, if Mello wanted you to know where he is, he would've told you. Tough luck."

I grit my teeth, cheeks darkening while my hand clenches into a fist at my side. "Don't fuck with me," I snap. "Tell me where he is!"

One of the other men laughs loudly, my attention snapping over to him. "Looks like Mello needs to keep his dog on a shorter leash—maybe then he'll bark less. Go wait for your pimp carrot top, we have business to attend to."

Anger boils under my skin. When averting my gaze, I see a gun lying on the coffee table. One of the men must have tossed it there; I know from experience that pistols aren't very comfortable on your belt when sitting.

Loud Mouth Number 1 notices the gun the same moment I do; before I can think about consequences, we both dive for it. My hand closes around the handle, tasting success. I won't shoot anyone; I just need them to take me seriously. But I'm celebrating too soon. Before I can level the gun, Loud Mouth Number 1 tackles me to the ground. I hit the floor hard, my cheek grinding into the cement. My cast scrapes against the floor; the jeans protect my knees, but I can still feel the burn. He's sitting on my back.

"You little shit," I hear him hiss behind me.

My arm isn't at the right angle beneath me; mind-shattering pain shoots through my body, and I can barely see straight.

Blindly, I tighten my grip around the handle of the gun I'm still clutching for dear life. My hand is half under my body, the cool metal pressing against my hipbone. I swallow hard. "Fuck off," I breathe. "I'm nobody's dog." I use all the strength I have left to rip my arm free, the safety clicking off as I work solely off of memory and touch. I jam the gun where I know his thigh is—right next to my side—and pull the trigger.

I can barely breathe as several things happen at once. The shot rips through the air, piercing flesh and muscle; the man on top of me lets out a yell, warm fluid gushing over my side. Barely a beat has passed before I'm turned over—more like thrown onto my back—and my head knocks against the cement again. The room spins, and I barely see Loud Mouth Number 2's fist before it smashes into my face and the world goes dark.

A loud creak is the first thing I hear, followed shortly by footsteps. They grow closer before stopping somewhere closeby. "You awake now?" I know that voice.

I force my eyes open, blinking a few times. The side of my face is throbbing, and I can't open my right eye all the way. I have to tilt my head back, looking up into Mello's face. The only light in the room is a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It casts a harsh light, illuminating the center of the room but leaving the corners are dark. I'm against a wall, sitting on the floor. My legs are extended out in front of me, my one functioning arm cuffed to the wall. No, I'm serious.

Mello pulls a rickety chair up beside me—the only piece of furniture in the dingy room—and takes a seat. He leans forward, his face serious. "You shot one of my men."

I look up at him for a moment, silent. I don't know how, but I manage a faint smile. "He deserved it."

"You don't get to decide that."

I try to shrug, but I can't. Everything aches, my arm especially. It's still against my chest, but moving around so much made it hurt like a bitch. Finally I say, "Maybe you shouldn't have left me alone surrounded by idiots." I murmur. "Why am I chained to a wall?"

He scoffs. "You're not a child, I don't have to babysit you—or at least I didn't think I had to. There have to be consequences in this business; if I let you get away with shooting one of my men then I lose all credibility."

"I didn't kill him."

"That's not the point." He takes hold of my chin, tilting my head up. With the light behind his head, his face is shadowed and I can't make out the details of his features. His eyes are dark as well, boring into mine. "We need to talk."

I'm silent, but I can't help my eyes widening a fraction as he holds up a cell phone in his free hand. My eyes flicker from his face to the phone and back again. I swallow, and I know he can see my Adam's apple bob since my chin is up. "What're you doing with my phone?" I feign innocence.

"Hm," is his only response. Then, to my horror, he let's go of the phone and I watch as it falls all the way to the floor. It clatters on the cement, the sound echoing. When silence falls, I can only hear my labored breathing. "You know, I had the strangest dream." He's still holding my chin, but my eyes are on the phone. "You were there. Go on Matty, ask me what it was about."

I swallow again, my mouth dry. "What was your dream about?" I whisper.

"It was strange," He says again, pulling on my chin so I'm forced to look back into his face. "In it you knew something about the Death Note, and you had a microchip implanted in your neck. On top of that, you were recalling some rather disturbing memories from your past."

I can't breathe. "You…you were conscious?"

"Never underestimate me Matt, that'll be your first mistake." His knuckles skim down the right side of my face, and I have to resist a flinch. The skin is tender, swollen and probably bruised.

"Why didn't you say anything?" My voice is hoarse.

"Why didn't you?"

I swallow. Truthfully, I was scared. But I can't tell him that. "You should have said something."

"I thought about playing along for a while," He says wistfully. "Then I'd be able to see where your loyalties lie…but it was too risky."

"I wasn't going to sell you out." I whisper.

He shrugs a little. "Doesn't matter now, I'll never know."

"But I wasn't," I insist.

"Fine." I know he's saying that just to pacify me. He continues, "But I need to know that you're on my side right now. I need to trust you Matt, this isn't a game. Our lives are at stake here. You have to trust me too."

I look into his eyes for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'll try."

"No," He says fiercely. "You will. Or else I don't have any use for you."

My heart splutters in my chest. "I will," I agree, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses me then. My bones are broken, my flesh torn, my skin black and blue, I'm shackled to a wall, and he kisses me. I lean my head forward a little, allowing myself the pleasure of tasting his lips. After everything, I deserve at least this much.

His fingers touch my hair, a shiver running down my spine. The kiss isn't rushed or desperate like the other times we've touched. I don't know why, but this kiss terrifies me. I would have let him have sex with me on the bathroom counter of a Super 8, but I can't let him kiss me like this.

I turn my head to the side, my breathing ragged, my eyes pinched closed. Mello is mostly silent, although I can hear his breathing—not nearly as labored as mine. His fingers drop from my hair, instead skimming down the side of my face that isn't swollen and throbbing.

"We have a lot to talk about," He says softly.

"I'm not good at talking."

His hand takes my chin, turning my face forward again. I reluctantly open my eyes. He meets my gaze, blue eyes intense. "We'll have to practice then." He says, and I blink. Is he being serious?

"Um…okay."

"I have a lot of questions for you…do you have any for me?"

I'm quiet for a long moment, unable to tear my gaze away from his face. I could drown in his blue, blue eyes. "What's your name?" I whisper.

He smiles faintly. "Mihael," He replies, his voice low like mine.

"Mihael." I repeat, tasting the word on my lips. It's smooth, carrying a melodic quality. It's uncommon—it fits him.

His smile grows before he leans into me. I shiver as I feel his lips brush my neck before whispering into my ear, "Say it again."

"Mihael," I breathe, the single word punctuated with a gasp as his hand finds its way between my legs. The flutters that I always feel in my chest when he's around sink lower, into my stomach and coiling lower, lower… "I thought you wanted to talk," I say, my voice rough.

"Later," Is his flippant reply. He stands up out of his chair, kicking it back and instead joining me on the floor. His hand returns my groin, exploring the bulge in my tightening jeans. His head nuzzles against my neck.

My head falls back despite myself, moaning softly. He gives my neck a little bite when I make that sound; I think he approves. I thought that talking was important, but it gradually seems less and less urgent. We're alone, the world is out there, and it can't touch us. Or at least I like to imagine it can't.

I turn my head down, catching his lips in a kiss. His fingers find my hair, pressing our mouths closer together. Nothing hurts anymore. It's like he's a drug. My tongue touches his lips, tracing the moist contours of his mouth with the interest and precision of a treasure hunter. He tastes like an odd mix of sweet chocolate and bitter coffee, plus something else I can't quite identify. It's not bad though. No, not bad at all…

His tongue pushes mine back, gripping the hair at the nape of my neck tighter. He tastes my mouth this time, but I don't mind the intrusion. Actually, I enjoy it very much.

I'm breathing heavily when he finally pulls back, a sting of saliva connecting our parted lips. His eyes are hooded, looking at my mouth before his gaze flickers up to my eyes.

I breathe a laugh. "What, do you have some weird bondage turn-on?"

He smirks. "I don't know, do you?" He gives my groin a squeeze, making me groan and squirm against the wall.

"Come on, unlock this thing…" I say, pleading with my voice and eyes. I pull on the shackle to get my point across. "I can't touch you if my hand is locked to the wall."

Mello chuckles, his fingers skimming down my cheek. "I don't know, I kind of like you better this way…"

"Bastard," I say through my teeth, although it's a weak insult. I like him…but he is a bastard. Just being honest here.

He rolls his eyes. "You're so difficult sometimes."

"I think I'm being pretty easy here." My cheeks flush as I realize what I just said. "That came out wrong."

It's too late, the damage is done. A grin spreads across his lips. "Good point. I think you like being shackled to the wall. Which is good, because you're going to be down here for a while."

I suddenly sober. "What?" I demand. "You have to let me out of here!"

He scoffs. "No way. I have things to do and you need to be punished."

"What do you need to do?" I demand indignantly. "And where the hell were you this morning when I got up?"

He sends me a pointed look. "I had to go see the police, my favorite people, because you called 9-1-1. Then I went to see Karen to get some stronger pain medication."

"Well," I start, flustered, "What was I supposed to do?"

He shrugs. "Beats me."

Suddenly I'm angry, my cheeks flushing. "You were conscious! You could have said something when I thought you were fucking dying!"

He scowls at me. "I was in and out of consciousness. It isn't as straightforward as you're making it seem."

"Ugh!" I make a sound of irritation in my throat. "Why the fuck do you turn me on? You're a frustrating jerk! And did you break into my apartment or something? Where did you get my clothes?"

"I didn't break into your apartment," He replies indignantly. "I had a lot to do, so I had someone else do it."

"You can't do stuff like that!" I practically explode. "And you can't go around shackling people to walls, you cunt!"

"And you can't go around shooting people, Matt!" He snaps back.

We lock gazes, glaring, the air static with our bubbling anger. My eyes narrow, determined to win this contest, but his eyes bore into mine. Color rises steadily in my cheeks, and finally I avert my gaze, biting my lower lip. "So maybe I shouldn't have shot him," I admit, although reluctantly.

Then he chuckles. My eyes snap back to his face, my eyebrows furrowing. "I don't blame you, he was being a douche," He says, much to my surprise.

"Then unlock this thing!" I cry.

He smiles slightly. "No can do Matty."

I'm not above bribery. I half close my eyes, hoping that I look, you know, sexy or something. "I'll kiss you if you unlock me."

He snorts. "I can kiss you when you're shackled to the wall." He points out, smiling slightly. To prove his point he leans in, kissing my lips.

I growl, promptly biting his lip. He pulls back, rubbing his mouth with his hand, looking annoyed. What's the big deal? I didn't draw blood or anything.

"Fine, be a little bitch about it." He says, glaring at me.

I scowl. "I'm not your dog, you know." I recall the taunts that got me in this position in the first place. "You can't chain me up when I misbehave. It doesn't work like that. I'm not going to stick around if you treat me like shit."

Mello looks into my eyes then. "You don't have any place else to go." He points out, voice soft.

I fall silent. I know he's right. If I leave here, where would I go? What would I do? I'd be dead. "What are we going to do then?" I ask finally.

"We're going to win." He says in all seriousness.

"It isn't a game," I murmur.

"Everything is a game. We just have to play better than our opponent."

I frown, looking into his face. "It isn't that easy."

"Maybe you're just making it too hard." He shrugs. "We'll do it. Trust me."

Quietly, I look into those crystalline blue eyes of his. Sometimes I feel like I could learn nothing from those eyes—they're locked up tight—then I look again and it's another world. I imagine I see everything within those beautiful blue eyes. Knowledge, confidence, and love. All of it could be mine if I just look into him and never anywhere else.

"I want to believe you," I whisper.

His hand touches my cheek, swiping his finger over my stubble. He smiles a little. "Then believe me."

Like it's that simple. Maybe it is. I don't say anything, instead I just lean in, kissing him. I kiss him like he kissed me before, softly. I want to have sex with him, but this isn't about the sex, not right this second. We're going to survive this together. I don't know how, but we will.

Mello pulls back a moment later, lightly tracing my jawline with his fingertips. He smiles again, "You should really put some ice on your eye. You look awful."

I scoff, but I can't help but smile a little either. "I feel pretty awful."

"I guess we should get you out of here," He muses, producing a key from his pants pocket. He unlocks the shackle around my wrist, much to my satisfaction.

I give a sigh of contentment as my hand falls free, landing in my lap. My eyes closed, my head falling back against the wall. I'm so glad he unlocked it, but I don't know if I can stand right this moment.

I hear Mello chuckle, then feel his warm breath against my neck. He lightly kisses my skin, and I make sound in my throat. I feel his lips against my ear. "You're still sporting a hard on." He's teasing me, the jackass.

I grunt. "Shud'up. Your fault…"

He laughs again, warmth ghosting over my cheek; I have to resist a shiver. "I take full responsibility. Come on Matt."

I open my eyes when his fingers close around my wrist, pulling me up to my feet. Somehow, I end up standing. My gaze falls back to the floor, spotting the cell phone on the ground. I'd forgotten it with all the kissing. Panic rises in me, and I grab for it—but I move too fast. I'm still lightheaded, and I almost fall over but Mello catches me around the waist.

"Hold on there," He pulls me up, my back pressing into his chest.

"The-the phone!" My voice is frantic. "You broke the phone!" I could end up dead if that phone doesn't work.

"Shh," He says against my ear. "That's not the phone."

"What?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"I have the phone, safe and locked up…it'll be there when you need to call that guy."

I try to calm my pounding heart, processing what he's saying. It doesn't help my jumping pulse when his lips press against my neck. I swallow hard. "But…"

"Calm down," He murmurs. "I have things under control. Enough shit has happened that we're going to take precautions…we're going to get through this, and hopefully no one else has to get hurt."

I focus on breathing for a moment. Can I believe him? I felt like the world was falling down, but now, after he reassured me…I feel okay. Maybe things will work out. Maybe I won't have to break anymore limbs, maybe I won't get shot, beaten up, or paralyzed. Maybe everything is really just…okay.

"I trust you." I say softly. I don't know why I trust him, exactly, because I barely know him. I don't really trust anyone, but I have to trust him. I can't do this by myself, so someone has to be my ally.

I feel his smile against my neck. "I know. Come on, let's get you some ice for your eye."

Mello takes me back to his room. I think we travel by an unused route in the compound, because we don't run into a single person on our way there. He probably can't let anyone know that I'm no longer locked up in their creepy dungeon. I wonder about that thug I shot, but don't ask.

He leaves me alone in the room for a while, returning after about forty minutes. He has an ice pack, a thermos of coffee, and a laptop. I had been bored out of my mind—there's nothing to do in his bedroom—so I practically pounce on the computer when he sets it on the bed.

"Whoa there," He speaks to me like I'm a child, pulling me back from the beloved laptop. My face must be a picture of devastation. He rolls his eyes. "Ice pack," He presses the cold compress into my hand. "Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off."

"I've used an ice pack before," I mumble, and press it gingerly against the side of my face.

"Yeah, I imagine you hurt yourself a lot." He says, completely serious.

"You make it sound like I'm clumsy!"

He raises an eyebrow, pausing for a whole beat before going, "Oh, are you being serious? I thought it was obvious."

I glare, which probably isn't as effective with only one eye visible. "Do you have any pain medication for me? I'm dying here."

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pill. He offers me the medicine and the thermos.

I consider commenting about pocket lint, but refrain. My arm hurts too much, and I don't want to chance having him take the medicine away. I set the ice pack down, take the pill, and swallow it with hot coffee. I sigh with contentment.

"I figured you could entertain yourself for a while," He gestures to the laptop. "I have some important business today."

I take another drink of coffee while opening the laptop with one hand. I press the power button, raising an eyebrow. "Arms shipment?" I ask, half joking.

"Drugs, actually." He smiles slightly. I can't tell if he's joking or not. "Stay in the room. If you get hungry I have some snacks in the bedside table; I'll be back in a bit. I know we have to figure something out for that chip in your neck, but you should be fine for the day. You're not talking to that guy yet, so we still have time to figure it out."

I nod, already becoming absorbed as the computer screen lights. The soft, blue glow makes me feel right at home. I abandon the coffee thermos on his bedside table, instead climbing on the bed and placing the computer on my lap. I stroke the keys idly.

Mello's scoff draws me out of my trance. "Don't have sex with it now. And don't forget your ice pack," He adds, before turning.

"Mmm," Is my only response. I see him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye, and he leaves me without another word.

The door shuts behind him, and I'm alone.

I nurse the coffee, a bar of chocolate, and a bag of Doritos from his snack drawer over the course of the day. I don't have anything I need to do, so I end up surfing the internet and gaming. It's surreally normal. It is harder than usual to game since I only have one useful hand, but I'm up for the challenge. I actually feel good. I may look like a mess, but I'm relaxed for the first time in days. I can still pwn n00bs with only one hand. Yeah, I'm that good.

Eventually, I run out of caffeine. Without a steady supply of coffee (or any kind of soda) to keep me awake, I find myself nodding off. I don't know how long I'm alone in Mello's room, but it's at least six hours—probably more. I fall asleep around the time the laptop taskbar reads midnight.

The room is dark when I'm roused from sleep. The laptop screen has gone black; apparently it when to sleep when I did. I tense instinctually because the bed shifted—that's what woke me up. My cheek is pressed into the pillow, and it aches faintly. I start to push myself up blindly in the dark. Now that I'm awake I have a fairly good idea of who's crawling into bed with me.

"Shh," His voice barely breaks the silence, and I relax a little when I feel his fingers against my hair.

I open my mouth to ask him how the day went, but he seems to know I'm about to speak; his lips silence me before I can get a word out, his tongue pressing past my parted lips and into my mouth.

I gasp faintly, taken off guard. I was half asleep, but I'm definitely awake now. In more ways than one. He presses me back into the mattress, his chest against my arm in the cast. My fingers manage to twist into his shirt.

"Mm…Mello…?" There is a note of question in my voice, but it's weak. His hips press into mine, and I inhale sharply. Warmth spreads through me, my cheeks flushing.

"Quiet," He says, his lips fluttering down to touch my collarbone. I've been without a shirt all day, something I'm glad for now.

My good hand slides down his shirt, gently tugging on the hem. My nails faintly skim the skin below his bellybutton. "Take it off," I request; my voice sounds so much louder than Mello's.

I don't know why, but I'm surprised when he pulls back and strips off his shirt. He's doing what I ask? Maybe I'm just reading too much into this. Becoming absorbed in the moment once more, my fingertips skim over the tape on his stomach; it's holding in place a large, white bandage. "Does it hurt?" I ask softly.

He leans back down, pressing a kiss to my lips. "Not when I'm in bed with you." His words make me blush, and I'm thankful for the cover of darkness. Mello continues, "How's your arm?"

"Well, it doesn't help that you're lying on it," Sheepish smile.

Mello scoffs, his hand slipping around my waist and pressing into the small of my back. I arch instinctually. In a smooth motion he rolls over, pulling me on top of him. My blush darkens as a straddle his hips, and I wonder if this is heading the direction I think it's heading.

"Better?" I can't make out the details of his face in the dark, but by his voice I know he's smirking.

"I think your hips are jabbing me," I say, making my voice sound bored to hide how embarrassed (and excited) I am. "You're so boney."

He scoffs again. "Keep talking and I'll jab you with something else." His fingers suddenly twist in my hair, dragging my head down. He stops me inches from his mouth; my lips part, quivering, exhaling a deep breath.

"And if I want you to jab me with something else?" I whisper.

"Then you should keep talking," He muses, leaning up to kiss the underside of my jaw. My eyelids flutter shut, inhaling sharply as his fingertips trace a circle around my bellybutton. My abdomen clenches, body tensing—he makes me so anxious, I can barely stand it.

"I don't know what to say," I admit, my voice trembling.

"Hm," He makes a sound against my neck, his lips leaving the skin moist. I can't help but trail my fingers down his chest, making a wide circle around his wound's dressing, finishing at his pants. "You always seem to have something to say," He muses. "Where are your smart aleck remarks now?"

"I try to keep those out of the bedroom." I'm blushing again—did I ever stop?

Mello chuckles, his warm breath ghosting over my neck. "I'll keep that in mind. Now I know how you shut you up."

"Hey!" I say, insulted.

Before I can continue he rolls over again, pressing me back into the bed. My blush is extending all the way down into my chest now; I feel a little feverish. "Let's not talk anymore." I see a flash of his teeth in the dark before he ducks his head down and kisses me deeply.

I am effectively silenced, but still a little peeved. I take my anger out on his pants, almost ripping the zipper in an attempt to get them undone.

Mello breaks the kiss to pull down his pants and kick them off; the next moment my fingers are skimming across the warm, bare skin of his hips. "You're so testy." He muses, unfastening my jeans.

"Only because you make me feel so damn appreciated."

"Ah, there's the smart aleck I know and love," His tone is condescending. "For a minute there, I thought you'd gone soft on me." I'm about to retort when he reaches into my pants. I gasp when his hand closes around me, giving my erection a good pump. "Nope, still hard." Oh, he was talking about that.

I squirm, the fingers of my working hand flexing into the pillow beneath my head. "Mm…" I breathe, hips lifting a fraction as he strokes me again.

When my back arches he releases me, much to my chagrin, but proceeds to pull my pants down fast over my hips. With a little maneuvering they join his on the floor, and I almost moan when his bare hips press into mine. Who knew a warm body would turn me into a blushing, horny idiot? Well, it isn't just any warm body. This is Mello, after all. We're both beaten to a pulp and I still feel fucking fantastic with him on top of me.

His lips press close to my ear. "You know I'm going to fuck you, right?"

I can't help the shudder that slides down my spine, making my hips press up into his. I make a sound when we touch. "I hope you are," I say breathlessly. "Because if you don't I'm going to be fucking pissed."

He laughs softy, pulling our lips back together. I'm quickly absorbed back into the kiss, the urgency becoming almost too much to bear. Our tongues press back and forth, tasting and demanding, each of us trying to gain the upper hand. I like to think that I'm winning, although he's probably thinking the same thing about himself.

I'm gasping for air when he finally breaks away. He leans over to open his beside table drawer and pushes aside the snacks I didn't eat. I watch with hooded eyes as he produces a tube—I can't make out what it says on it through the darkness, but I can guess. It looks like a toothpaste tube but I doubt what's in there will fight plaque and bad breath.

"This is probably the worst timing ever," I mumble, half to myself. I reach above me to gently clench the headboard with my good hand. "Didn't you just get stabbed like…" I have to think about for a moment, my eyebrows furrowing. "Was it yesterday?"

Mello shrugs, taking the tube's cap between his teeth and pulling it off. He spits it out, and I think it lands on the floor. "Trust me, I'm on enough pain medication to tranquilize a horse." I watch, mesmerized as he squeezes lube onto his fingers, rubbing it between the pad of his thumb and pointer finger.

"Ha," I breathe, licking my lips. "It's weird how sexy you are."

He scoffs loudly. "Don't act so surprised." His hand not slick with lube hooks under my thigh, and somehow my knee ends up resting over his shoulder. His fingers skim down the underside of my leg, making me squirm. My hips, already lifted slightly off the bed, arch up. "Obviously you've wanted this since we met."

His fingers rub against a very sensitive place and I groan softly, my hand grasping the headboard tighter. "Don't…give yourself so much credit." I say breathlessly. So much for keeping smart aleck remarks out of the bedroom.

"It's cute when you try to play the tough guy," He muses. "I almost believe it."

Then he presses a finger inside of me, and I can't find words. "Mm…" My head rolls to the side, pressing into the pillow. My lips part, panting faintly as he probes my insides. It's dirty, it's sinful, and I love it.

Mello leans forward; my knee is dragged up, folding closer to my chest, exposing a good amount of my backside to him. His lips touch my shoulder. "It's sexy when you get all hot and bothered," He chuckles, kissing along my collarbone.

I can't even comprehend if that's a compliment—then I feel like my head is going to explode when he adds another finger. My hand moves from the headboard to fist into his hair, twisting the blonde locks that thread through my fingers. "Ah!" I gasp. "Mello, please…" While his fingers stretching me feel amazing, I want more.

Just like that, his hand is gone. I whimper at the loss, but his lips touch mine firmly, quieting me. I can't see what he's doing, but he's maneuvering the lube easily with his lips sealed against mine. I kiss him blindly, groping his hair to bring him closer.

His tongue shoves past my lips just as his hips thrust—he didn't even warn me before tearing me open, entering me in one smooth motion. I yell out, but the sound is lost in his mouth. I turn my head to the side, gasping for air. "Shit!" My voice is hoarse. "You could have said something before—" My voice catches as his hips move. "Ooh…" I breathe, my eyelids becoming heavy.

He smirks. "Whore," It's an affectionate term from his lips. Our hips start to grind slowly; I'm still acclimating, but warm shivers of pleasure are inching up my spine. My back arches.

"Mm," I press his head down against my neck, "Bastard," I say, voice breathy. He bucks his hips, our skin slapping together—my head falls back as I moan. When I find my voice again I hiss, "Fucker," meanwhile licking my lips.

"You love it." Much to my delight, he sounds breathless.

"Ha," I bite my lip, wiggling my hips. "I do," I whisper into his ear.

I know this is exactly what he wanted to hear. His hands grip my hips, and the real fun starts. I can barely stand it; he fucks me hard enough that I'll have bruises on my ass and hips tomorrow, and just when I'm quivering and moaning and I feel like I'm about to explode he slows down to a crawl, touching the deepest, most intimate parts of my body. I'm feel like I'm going crazy.

His fingers trail over my slick abdomen as our bodies meet again and again. His touch makes the muscles under my skin tremble. My mouth has long since fallen open, gasping for air, my eyes pinched closed. When his hand closes around my erection, my hips buck.

I don't last long after that. The urgency, the anticipation, the passion, it all becomes too much. My nails dig into his back, moaning loudly as I come on our stomachs. My entire body is flooded with white hot pleasure, the orgasm pulsing through me in waves. I'm shaking. I can't stop shaking.

I hear him moan against my neck, but it's like I'm listening through a tunnel—I'm so far gone. Two more thrusts from his hips and a warmth blossoms inside of me, tickling my insides and making me squirm. I make another sound, pulling him closer. He all but collapses on top of me.

Neither of us moves for what's probably a good five minutes. It takes me that long to catch my breath; I can hear—and feel—each time he exhales against my neck. I'm so weak, I doubt I can move.

Mello's fingertips trace idle patterns on my hip, finally allowing my leg to slide off of his shoulder. I groan, slowly stretching it out. I hear my knee pop.

"You weren't half bad," He says finally, letting out a soft chuckle. His voice is deep and husky, and it makes me feel warm.

"Mm, and you were only half good." My fingers gently massage his scalp.

He laughs again, kissing my neck. "You good?" He asks.

I smile faintly. "You're kind of lying on my arm again."

Mello scoffs, taking hold of me and gently rolling us over. I sigh as I settle onto his chest, resting my uninjured cheek against his shoulder. "Much better," I approve.

"You're so picky," He muses.

"Shut up, I'm tired."

"Demanding too." His arms wrap around my waist.

"Tell me if I'm hurting your stomach," I add.

"Mmhm."

My eyes flutter closed, letting out an exhausted breath. I slept most of the evening, but he wore me out again. Damn him. Oh well, I guess I'll just sleep some more.

AN: Happy holidays my lovely readers! I know it's been a while; I'm sorry I haven't updated in a timely manner! I hope this chapter makes up for my absence. I was dealing with finals and wrapping up this semester of college, but now I'm done and I have a nice long break ahead of me! I hope to write a lot in the coming weeks, so keep an eye out for other fun things. I will be working on the next chapter of For Hire, (which definitely won't be too far off!) but I have some fun treats in store for all of you as well! Be sure to add me to your author alerts list if you haven't already. =)

So many fun things happened in this chapter, it was great to write! These chapters are obviously focusing more on the internal affairs of Matt and Mello, but keep the outside plot in the back of your mind. =) That'll be lurking around here soon. I know some of you may be wondering why Mello isn't acting more urgent, and why he offered up his real name like that; keep in mind that this is a different universe and the situation is quite different. To our knowledge there is no Kira, so their current position doesn't feel quite as critical. Additionally, there are a lot of reasons that Mello could want to gain Matt's trust. Just a few things to think about, I don't want to talk too much, haha!

So, how about that fun scene? ;D Don't forget to hit the review button on your way out, and take a Christmas cookie with you! Thanks guys, I appreciate the continued support!