Standard warning: Language, violence, sex, R18+
Set between ch.66-67.
PART 3: Encounter.
Los Angeles, USA, 2009.
NEIAR:
I never thought I'd ever set foot in this city.
The land of plastic movie stars and bad Hollywood movies.
But here I was, loitering around with the big city lights over my head hurting my eyes, and for the millionth time, twirling my hair around my finger.
And the (I don't know whether it was the best or worst) part was that I was alone.
A total stranger in the big city. Not that it was the first time. When I first set foot in Washington D.C I was an English lost in the U.S. The Little White Brit or kid, some of the SPKs had said jokingly.
Would he be like that too?
A Pom lost in L.A?
I'd told Commander Lester that this was something I just had to do myself, and to keep it from the rest of the SPK members. However, it was imperative that we stayed in solid contact.
Besides, it wasn't like I had "SPK" written all over my face.
I just had to do this. Although I wasn't entirely sure how everything would turn out, it was worth a shot, and I wasn't planning on just sitting there waiting for things to unfold.
4 years is a long time.
He could've had nothing to do with the whole thing, but Mr.Yagami's hints about the chocolate bar just made me unable to let it go.
Him.
The one who's always been on my mind these past few years.
Mello...you've always been too emotional and have ended up being careless with serious matters...
Although now it was more than that.
I was depending almost entirely on instinct here, but it was better than nothing.
And having some of the SPK members killed right under my nose was more than enough reason to get here.
This was personal.
Worse still, I had no back-up plan. Everything was vague, and anything could happen. But it was the least I could do, and at the rate of how things were going, I didn't have much choice.
I'll chase you down myself.
And I will find you.
Walking down the shadier side just off Santa Monica was not a very glamorous experience. When I first got here, I had no more than a medium-sized backpack clinging to my shoulders which made me look like a student more than anything, at least during the time between the airport and the cheap motel. After dumping my bag there, I stepped out of the motel armed only with a not-so-thick wallet. Commander Lester did say the place wasn't that far from my prepared accommodation anyway. It was slowly getting dark, so I paced up a little bit, wondering not for the first time if I should've taken a cab.
Darkness wasn't the only reason, though.
Hating to admit it, a latent thrill was slowly growing within from the prospect of seeing Mel again after 4 years.
Four years is a long time.
To leave the Institute...and only leaving your picture behind...
I still had his photo with me, at the moment somewhere in my backpack. Not that I needed it right now.
I wonder what he's like now?
Suddenly loud thumping music beats emerged like a kick up my face.
Arrays of nightclubs were thrown before me, their blinding neon-lights added to the effects as a few cars pulled up on the pavement.
Not the glam types, though. Which was good, because areas like this tend to be inconspicuous.
After turning around a few times and half-circling the area, I spotted the signboard.
"Deviant".
It couldn't have been more of an underground of L.A. While the rich wasters pulled up their plastic escorts along in their six-figured car rides, the tattooed gum-chewing freaks all accumulated here. I must've looked so out of place, wearing all-white like this.
Commander Lester said everything had been taken care of. And he knew about some leads regarding Mel in L.A area.
But what I didn't tell him was the random address of a place from an anonymous source. They said they had reasons to believe I'd find him in this place.
At first I wondered if they'd let me in.
And it turned out to be more than easy.
They did ask for my ID, though. But considering it was an 18+ club I needn't even bother to get a fake one. The black latex-clad bloke with painful-looking facial piercings took a quick look and then gestured me in. The door was so low I almost felt the need to duck. And I wasn't particularly tall.
It was sort of a lounge-slash-club type of place. I wouldn't say it was small, but I wouldn't say it was huge either. And the place was quite packed already, at least for this hour. Some people were already dancing, and the rest were crowding on the randomly-scattered seats or leaning against the wall, holding drinks or smoking cigarettes.
The music got louder and my view got darker as I stepped further in, inevitably nudging and bumping into a few people. The walls were pitch black with the occasional wallpaper chips, but I supposed they left it that way on purpose because it looked "kinda arty". Strange sparkly things were dangling from the ceiling, the interior was splattered with neon red glows.
A few goths and punks dressed in spiky leather were giving me strange looks.
Would he be wearing stuff like that too?
I wondered if he had changed much in the past 4 years.
I wouldn't have been too surprised if he dyed his hair black or pierced his bellybutton or something.
Now of course I didn't expect to bump into him face-to-face straight, but I couldn't help keeping my hopes up.
Where are you?
"Can I get you a drink, hun?"
The somewhat intimidating voice came from a skimpy cocktail-dressed girl carrying an empty tray. She was taller than me. At least with those sky-high boots, which was the next thing that stood out after her outfit.
"I'm fine, thanks."
After slowly getting used to the sights, I pushed deeper into the crowd, hoping to catch a familiar glimpse of anyone...or anything. Which was pretty unlikely by the looks of things.
Music was banging louder against my eardrums, old-school-techno mix (or whatever they called it these days) thumping non-stop, making the air around felt heavier.
/What an odd situation.../
Looking around a bit more, trying to look more relaxed or at least less out-of place, my eyes found a sort of a stage-like structure on the upper right-hand corner of the club to focus on. It was rather small, I'd say it wouldn't fit more than two regular-sized people, with a pole in the middle. There were glittery metal fences surrounding it, high enough for it to look like a half-done cage, but low enough for a person to climb in and out. I spotted there was only one person dancing inside, and some random people were dancing around it, or just half-heartedly moving or leaning against the cage.
/...come and be a dancer.../
The cage dancer looked quite young, maybe he or she wasn't even legal...
Then I took a second glance and stopped short.
No.
Could it be?
Platinum blonde hair, topping a lean figure wearing all black, moving wildly to the thundering beats...
/...dance into my daydream.../
I found myself struck dumb, and staring, my eyes squinting, searching the ever-moving lights, waiting for it to fall on the figure of my interest.
Of course, there must be hundreds of other blondes in the room, but probably not with that particular cut.
I shuffled closer to get a better look, and when I caught a glimpse of a very familiar-looking rosary dangling around his neck, that cleared it all.
I've found you.
The Mello I saw now was nothing like the Mello I remembered from 4 years ago. Back then he was just like a fragment of a major puzzle. Now he was full-blown, wild and complete. Those added years have given him even more edge, his rough features were darker and sexier in the random lights...definitely more muscular than me. He had black leather wrapping his body tight, a steer contrast to his gothic pale skin. A large bar of chocolate in one gloved hand as expected, as he danced the night away like there was no tomorrow. And there was no mistaking those eyes. Deep, intense and predatory eyes, but occasionally closed, as he drowned himself in the music, letting his arms stretched above his head while beads of sweat dripping down his neck were starting to sparkle against the random lights.
/...join me in my daydream wet and wild.../
Something was stirring inside me. Dragging me out forcefully to those days back in Winchester.
The Wammy's House.
The White Room.
I'll make you remember me for the rest of your life.
And now he was right in front of me. I could just walk up to him and reach out...
/...come and let your wild side show.../
Mel...
But something unexplainable stopped me in the process. It was as if my subconscious didn't want to shatter the illusion, although I knew damn well that it wasn't an illusion.
/...I guess you see, I have another daydream.../
His actions didn't make it any easier to convince myself, though. The music was changing, into a less thunderous but more smooth, sensual beat. A mix of old disco music with underground techno, but melodically dark and teasing, with breathy sounds in the background. Above and in front of me, Mel was spinning around, swaying his hips from side to side, gyrating sensuously, making anyone who stared at him, boys or girls, want to take him home. At one point, he held on to the pole, threw his head back ignorantly, still licking at the chocolate bar while his body dragged up and down against it.
I've never seen a sight quite so...
"Neiar...ahhhh...aaahhhh...don't stop..."
Just as I was trying to pull myself back together, I realised that his seductive manners had turned even more obscene.
My goodness, what the hell was he doing? Did he just slip a finger along the rim of his pants and tugged it down slightly? A millisecond later, it was back to the hip-swaying routine.
If he was a stripper he would've made tons of money by now.
And it wasn't just my imagination.
Then I realised.
He saw me.
MELLO:
I knew it was him the moment he walked in.
No idiot would walk into Deviant dressed like that.
He hasn't changed one bit. Expect maybe the fact that traces of baby fat that I could occasionally spot 4 years go were now totally gone. Looking down on him, amongst all those people, I could tell more than anyone else could. But apart from that, Neiar was Neiar.
Neiar with his stupid white shirt and pants, with his subconscious compulsions of twirling around with his silvery hair, and those blank ignorant eyes. Ghostly Near, always out of place, always unreal...was now standing down there, staring up at me with pure interest.
Well, look who's second now?
I had known he would find me here. Which proved my suspicions correct.
He was, after all, part of SPK.
I had arranged it this way, and so far it was going well. Just in case I completely missed out on the opportunity to ever see him again.
What a relief to think that anything to do with me still made him tick, in a way that nothing else can.
Did you miss me, Neiar?
I stopped dancing gradually and climbed out of the cage, gesturing him to follow me. Luckily I was on the slightly less crowded side of the club, so if I lost him he'd definitely catch up to me.
This was going to be interesting.
Gesturing to Miller's bouncer buddy on the side, I made my way to the back, after quickly notifying him, "The kid in white. Let 'em in." He nodded.
Climbing up the stairs to the office felt longer than usual.
Deviant was a perfect choice for this liaison. Not only did the owner left the doors open to us, it was also not the major places well-known for drug trafficking and the likes. As for secret hideouts, I had at least hundreds of alternatives. Even this office alone had at least one escape route, and I'm not talking about fire escapes here. The co-owner of this club had connections to a marijuana mob and somehow linked back to Miller. At least for once, he was useful. Safe that and the Death Note testing. Not that I usually spoke ill of the dead.
The manager's office was empty as expected. The hideous brown interior never failed to disgust me. Apart from the huge lamp which adjustable light intensity and a glass divider, all the decorations, furniture and contemporary paintings there failed to make the room look any better.
Leaving the door open, I waited until the unmistakable steps approached me.
He left a bit of space in between. Smart little man.
Then again, Neiar had always been smart.
Although it was unlikely that anyone would give a shit about me walking into the office with a guest.
Taking the last bite off my chocolate, I sat down and waited. Sure enough, Neiar appeared and shut the door behind him.
I buried myself on the couch and crossed my legs.
Well, look who's here.
The lighting was dim, but it was much better than downstairs. Now I could have a real good look at him.
He was not much different than the image in my mind for the past 4 years. The whole white appearance hasn't changed at all. His silver hair, wild and sticking out from too much finger-play, his pale skin that became one with his white shirt, pants and socks. And those eyes, still empty as ever, but this time slightly more alert and acknowledging.
Then something else caught my eyes. Those added 4 years have contributed certain sharpness in his features. Not just physically, but the overall aura as well. His jaw line and cheekbones were well-defined, more masculine than I remembered seeing him last, and much taller too. His lean frame, long slender legs, arms and soft but strong hands were the major contributor to his overall ethereal presence. And I had to admit there was a certain, unexplainable sensuality about him that I couldn't describe otherwise. No words were accurate enough.
"Mello."
"Neiar. It is you."
"You haven't changed much yourself."
"It certainly has been awhile."
I knew what that was supposed to mean.
"Come have a seat." I gestured to the hideous-coloured couch opposite me, and he did so.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"Cut the nonsense," an unexpected snap escaped his mouth. But then again, he could never really snap, at least his intonation was crooked that way. There was still that inevitable politeness, wrapped in what's left of his proper Mid-Southern English accent.
Uncrossing my legs, I moved forward and looked straight into his eyes, searching some kind of after-reaction.
"Alright, let's hear it then."
"I don't think you understand the situation. At least five of my SPK members are dead. This is no joke!"
This is personal, I think that's what you wanted to say...
"I bloody well know that. But as you can see, I don't have the notebook. You can search me all you want, it's not here."
"We don't know exactly the potential of the notebook of death..."
You may not. But I do. Because unlike back then, I'm now one step ahead of you!
"Look Neiar, at this rate, it seems to be the only way that we can find out everything about Kira."
He fell silent for a second, contemplating.
"Surprise of the century." I said sarcastically.
"How do I know you're not at least intending to ally with Kira?"
"I thought you knew me better than that."
That shut him up.
"Of course." He sighed.
It's working so perfectly. This is fascinating.
"Mind you, just because you don't have it with you at the moment don't think I'll assume that you have no idea of its whereabouts."
Of course. I knew you all too well. There was no way you're letting go of that.
I got off my chair and walked towards him. He looked up at me with no expression.
"Well, aren't you going to start questioning me then? Or maybe...searching me?"
Are you the least confused now, Neiar?
"Mel..."
It's been too long since I heard him call my name like that.
"That's not the issue here. I've already developed the fact that there's no way in hell you're going to fill me in on the whereabouts of the Note."
"So why are you here then?"
"I'm here to straighten things up."
I nearly died laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"You? Anti-social inhuman Neiar, want to try and straighten things out?"
"Mel, listen to me!"
"No, you listen. I'm so sick of all your stuck-up antics! So yeah, you're now some SPK big-shot, genius number-one detective whatever, but if you think that you can just waltz in here and talk things out and get things done your way, then you're horribly wrong! I've always hated that about you, Neiar, your ignorance, your arrogance!"
He stood up and looked me in the eye.
"Well, what am I supposed to say? Most of my SPK members are dead, Mello! And I'm not allowed to do shit about it!"
"You already said that. And as far as I'm concerned, Kira is still somewhere out there, alive and well, prancing about and executing whoever he likes! Not so useful are you, you and your SPKs?"
The way this was going, I'd be sure to enjoy myself way too much.
"That's one of the reasons why I'm here. "
Kira? One of the reasons?
Oh. I get it.
"What? To suck up to me so we can work together on the Kira case? In yer dreams!"
"That's not it!"
He drew in a long breath and turned sideways.
"Mel...I'm telling you...you might be in danger. Both you and I, actually."
"Living in danger shouldn't be news for either you or me."
"No. The thing is, I was in a position where I was forced to give out some information about you and me, about the Wammy's House, to the second L. So there's always a possibility that Kira could trace up on us."
"But Kira doesn't know our real names. Let alone our faces."
"You know..."
"Yes, Neiar, I know that far already."
"I see. But still, we'd better assume the worst."
That was kind of inevitable. If Kira really was going to trace up to the Wammy's House, he'd find out about the both of us together. So if anything happens to me, one way or the other, I could try to manipulate the situation so that I'm taking him down with me.
"Assume the worst, huh?"
"Right."
Better start laying down his flaws.
"If I were you, my worst case scenario would be this: what guarantee do I have that Kira has absolutely no idea about the existence of SPK and the likes?"
His eyes narrowed. I think he knew the direction I was going.
"Meaning, how could you come to a straight assumption that I had anything to do with the murder of the SPK members? Didn't you take Kira into account?"
Neiar was way too silent.
"Not so sharp now, are you?"
"I do have reasons to believe so. Since all the hoo-hah with the spy in my SPK team, then the kidnapping of the Japanese Police Chief's daughter, and then the goddamn missile? It's just not Kira's style, incase you haven't noticed. Really, Mel, for your information, you're not too good at being subtle!"
Of course. Self-righteous, all-innocent, stuck-up prude Neiar. He hasn't changed one bit.
"Sure you think so, Mr.'I'm-So-Much-Better-Than-Everyone-Else-I'm-Always-Right'."
Neiar flinched slightly, looking at me analytically.
"And for your information only, the SPK was the least of my concerns!"
A smile crept up my face, as I walked away and searched for my secret stash of chocolate bars behind the work desk around the corner. Unwrapping it quickly, I caught a glimpse of Neiar looking at me in bewilderment.
I did plan everything carefully to get to Kira before the SPK and Neiar does. And it was all working towards my favour. No more Mr.Superior for you, Neiar.
What are you going to do now?
"Really, Mel, we don't know what this notebook of death is capable of, just as we don't know what Kira is capable of."
Biting into the next square of chocolate, I turned to him again. "You failed to mention you don't know what I'm capable of."
"Look Mel, it's not just about that!"
"Oh?"
Neiar's eyes started to fill up with something. It was part disbelief, part uncertainty.
"So what is it all about then, Neiar?"
NEIAR:
Doesn't he get it?
It's the way he abandoned the Institute, dammit.
I remembered it vividly like it was yesterday. The last day I ever saw him at the House as Roger tried to stop him. He slammed the door on us with nothing to say except one sentence that lingered in my head forever.
I'll do it my own way.
He's doing it his own way, alright.
Mel left, just like that, with nothing but a small photo left behind.
And after all the twisted shit that happened between us.
"This is not what we're meant to do, Mel."
Didn't know you'd stoop so low.
"Says who?"
"You left the Institute just like that, saying you'd do it your own way. Look at you now. You're joining the mafia, the gangsters or whatever shit that is you're into. Is this what you meant by doing it your own way? Did you really think the Institute was going to approve of this?"
"The Institute is not here now, Neiar. And it's my life. No one tells me how I should go about living my life. Not even the Institute."
You selfish bastard...
"Yeah, but not this! You're not supposed to be doing this. That's not what we were raised for."
Mel's eyes widened, and a smile crept up his face. Wild, twisted and glaring death at me.
"What about when you and I fucked? Was that endorsed by the Institute as well? Was that the Institute's way?"
"That's..."
"They didn't need to know, did they? Even if they did, do you think they'd give a shit!"
Mel...
Don't stop.
No, it's not like that.
Just don't.
Is that why?
"Mel...is this what it's all about?"
He looked at me with squinted piercing eyes, biting roughly at his chocolate bar.
"What?"
"Is that why you're like this to me? Because of the things we did back then?"
"No, of course not, you idiot!"
Snapping away, he threw his hands to his sides in one abrupt motion. "That has nothing to do with anything!"
Maybe the things we did at the House were part of what made us into who we are now. One extreme versus the other. At least, that was one way that I accepted it.
We had to. I needed to do it just as much as he did.
Before I knew it, he's moved closer right in my face, putting a hand on my right shoulder. Penetrating me through his eyelids, he lowered his voice, "Did you miss it, Neiar?"
Neiar...aaahhh...!
"Did you miss me fucking you?"
"Mel, stop!" Batting his hand away, I turned around and found myself wondering.
What's gotten into me? Why did I come here anyway?
"I shouldn't have bothered."
He smiled another condescending smile. "Are you pissed off because I'm ahead of you now?"
"You know that's not it."
You're always the one who've been so hell-bent on outsmarting me anyway. Although I admit that was one of the things I enjoyed about you...
"So what have you got to offer now?"
"You said it yourself, we could never work together as a team."
Not in this particular way, at least.
If he only knew. Not one day has passed without me wondering where he was. And I couldn't help wondering if he ever...
"Alright then. Enlighten me, Neiar. Fix me. Isn't that what they taught you at the Institute? To fix fucked-up criminals like me?"
At the rate this was going, he was on a winning streak. For all I knew, he probably even knew who the second L was already.
And that annoyed me like nothing ever before.
"Mel, you just...you won't get away with this."
"Try me."
"You are still part of the Institute just as much as I am..."
"Fuck the Institute!"
BLAMM! CRASSHH!
"Aw!"
Before I knew it, one side of the room collapsed, and the ground shook wildly beneath my feet, as I slid across the floor and bumped into the couch.
"What the fuck!" Mel's outburst was almost buried by the following crash-banging sound.
An explosion?
A...bomb?
"Shit...Neiar, run!"
I was only a few steps behind Mello when suddenly the glass divider beside one of the couches collapsed and took down all the decorations and lamps beside it. Sure enough, loud sounds of glass shattering and other furniture pieces breaking soon followed. Cowering reflexively, I picked the pace back up and searched the nearest way out. Luckily the doorway I originally entered from was not that much affected.
"Mel?"
Crack!
A faint crackling sound made me turn around and spotted Mel half-buried underneath the collapsing furniture, glass and lamps. He was on his sides, trying to crawl back out.
Dammit
"Mel!" I rushed towards him and shoved away the rather expensive rubble off him.
"I'm alright...just...get this shit off..."
Dragging him out in the process after pushing aside whatever I could grasp, it was obvious that he was a bit stunned.
"You can walk...right?"
Please tell me you could walk.
"Yeah..."
He gradually stood up, and for once his ego didn't get in the way as I helped him up. Wrapping one of his arms around my shoulder, his feet picked up the pace and within seconds had no problem with walking alongside me.
This might not be the end of the danger yet, as there was no guarantee that there will be no follow-up explosion after this...
As soon as we got out of the office, I was met by panicking club-goers frantically squeezing through every exit door they could find. Some bumped into me, and I could already see some wounded ones. Screams filled the entire club, it was total chaos. Everything was buried in smoke, everyone was blinded, only able to fumble around.
Shit. This is bad.
Was it Kira?
"Neiar, over here!"
I was oblivious to the fact that Mel had unwrapped himself from around my shoulders until I felt a tug on my left arm. Next thing I knew, he took the lead, pulling the both of us to squeeze through a crowd of what's left of the visitors. After what felt like ages, we came across an emergency exit and I spotted an army of fire brigades and police cars already starting to accumulate around the area. A group of bystanders were already flocking up, some of them lent a helping hand, some of them just stood there and watched.
It was a bomb, alright. Not a big one, but enough to get people badly hurt. Luckily enough, the office upstairs wasn't affected all that much, but if we didn't escape on time...
If it really was Kira...
I didn't sense any motive, though...
Unless...
I realised that Mel was still pulling on my arm, running further from the club behind us. Trying to catch my breath, I managed to ask,
"Where a..."
"Just shut up and follow me!"
So I did, and that lead us to a rather huge car park on the side of the road. A black Toyota sedan was waiting as Mel reached for his key and deactivated the immobiliser.
I was about to get into the passenger side when I changed my mind.
"I'll drive."
"It's alright, I can manag..."
I slammed the door hard and rushed to the other side.
"I said I'll drive! Hand me the keys, Mel. Now."
He looked at me reluctantly for a few seconds, before finally handing over the keys and walked over to the passenger side. Pulling down the safety belt and turning on the engine almost at the same time, I looked over to him who still looked kind of out of it.
I just hoped he wasn't badly hurt or anything.
The car was on reverse park, so there was less of a hassle to get out. "Just tell me where to go."
Mel sighed in his seat.
"Once you get out of the parking lot, turn left. Just keep going until you find an intersection."
I wouldn't call myself the best driver at night, especially in a city I wasn't so familiar with and depending almost entirely on Mel's directions, but I managed. It wasn't even 20 minutes. We pulled into a rather deserted building apparently used for a cheap short-stay apartment.
"Park there, in the corner."
Following his instructions, I stopped the car and handed the keys back to him.
"Thanks."
It was weird hearing him thanking me like that. But I didn't comment, and followed him into the building. Once we got in, it actually looked better than the outside.
Mello opened the door to his room in front of me, and without saying anything went straight in, expecting me to shut the door behind us.
The room was neither big nor small. It had all the essentials, an unmade bed, a TV, a side table with a drawer, a chair and a bathroom. On the corner desk with the side lamp, a stash of chocolate bars were heaped on top of it, all the same brand. The radio-alarm on the side table was on, making faint sounds of the DJs introducing the next song.
Then I looked at him.
"Mel, you're bleeding."
"What? Oh, right..."
There was a considerably lengthy cut on his inner upper right arm. I turned the main light on to get a better look at him. I spotted another minor bruise on his chin, but the bleeding had started to dry off. Another bruise on his left lower arm, but that was a minor one.
"Does it hurt anywhere else?" I didn't quite know why I asked that question. I supposed I wasn't sure what else was there to say.
"Feh. This is nothing. Dab some iodine and it'll be fine." He got up suddenly and headed to the bathroom. The sounds of running water broke the silence, as if a way of telling me that he could take care of himself. Not waiting for him to let me take a seat, I slid down to the edge of his bed, my body suddenly acknowledging the growing exhaustion. Mello came out a few minutes later with a bandage already wrapping his upper right arm, obviously done in a rush half-heartedly. A stark contrast to the black leather wrapping the rest of his body.
His skin was still as pale as I remembered, as I noticed his hands were now glove-free, revealing jet-black nail polish. They looked odd at first, but somehow suited him just fine.
There was an aura of unexplained sensuality about his presence. Maybe it was his accent as well. The unmistakable Cockney twang was still there, but now it's more polished and cosmopolitan.
Then I saw something else, but couldn't quite tell what it was.
"Mel..."
When he looked at me in the eye, I realised what it was.
A streak of fear.
MELLO:
Is this what people called de ja vu?
It was just like 4 years ago.
Neiar was sitting there against the wall in the White Room, blending in with it. Waiting for the next thing to hit him right in the face.
In most cases, it was me.
But that was then. This is now. We weren't in the White Room, and we weren't 15 anymore.
Neiar was now 19, as far as I knew, sitting there at the edge of my bed, one leg folded up so that his chin was leaning on his knee. He turned around and faced me, his fingers stopped twirling around his silvery hair.
Some things never changed after all.
His eyes were still looking at me with the same look from 4 years ago. Only this time not as empty.
Neiar
"Is it alright?" his sudden flat question broke the silence.
What?
"Huh?"
"Me, staying here?"
I thought he was asking about my wounds.
"Have I kicked you out yet?"
"Do you want to?"
"Should I?"
Silence fell once again.
I just saw you again after 4 years, you moron! I'm not finished with you yet.
I wasn't about to say that out loud, though.
Walking over to the other side, I fiddled around with the radio alarm button.
"No news about it yet?" Neiar turned towards the electronic device too.
"There should be, soon. This is L.A, after all." I finally stopped at a random station. Some DJ talking about the weather, but then turned into some old 90s rock music.
"Is it Kira?" Now that was quite a turn of the situation.
"I don't know...you reckon?"
At the moment I really couldn't care less.
"Mel, about that conversation we had before..."
"I don't want to talk about it."
Pulling at the duvet, I gave him a bored look, and made my way in. He slid to the floor, sighing. And sat there for the next few minutes, contemplating.
I lied on my bed, in complete silence. I was still getting used to the fact that Neiar was sitting on the floor beside my bed, leaning against it. It was so quiet, I was sure we could hear each other's breathing.
Neiar
God, this felt so familiar.
I think we should stop doing this.
Images of the White Room and Wammy House filled my head. It was inevitable.
Do you want me that much?
Maybe I do. More so now than I did back then.
That bomb was quite scary. If it was Kira, what was the motive? Why would he be randomly blowing up clubs?
Unless...
Was he aiming on anything in particular?
One thing's for sure, though. The silence was getting on my nerves.
"Neiar..."
"Yes?"
"Do you think Kira is after me?"
"Um..."
What do you mean 'um'?
"It will depend. I mean, it would probably be the worst case scenario, but right now let's say it's a safe assumption to think there's always a possibility."
An interesting question formed in my mind.
"Were you convinced that you would get to me first before Kira, assuming Kira really was after me?"
Silence. And then a long sigh.
"Yes. Without a doubt."
Now that was unexpected. "Why?"
"I'm just working with what I know so far. Kira needs the person's real name and face to kill them. And as far as I know, he has neither."
It was like he was saying 'Don't flatter yourself'.
I tried to deflect my attention away from him.
If it really was Kira, I'd say it was a rather sloppy job though. And terribly random.
Unless he was after something in particular...
This was starting to become uncomfortable. Irritatingly so.
"But you got a hold of the Note before I did. So you should know better now, shouldn't you?"
Will you drop the act for once?
"There's no need to be such a sore loser, Neiar."
As if reading my mind, he got up and looked down on me. "Do you want me to go?"
This feeling...what is thing feeling?
Suddenly my mouth felt dry. For once, there was an unexplainable tightness within me but I couldn't describe where exactly.
It was almost like 4 years ago.
Neiar, stop!
Make me Mel, make me.
Right back at me.
"No."
I finally said.
"Stay."
Neiar sat back down on the floor.
The air was getting weirder by the minutes. I looked at the alarm radio. Ten minutes past midnight.
I wondered if I'd get any sleep.
It was strangely uncomfortable, as I sensed an intriguing twitch deep inside, and I still couldn't tell where from.
Was that Kira's doing?
But I thought Kira was only after criminals. Why would he set up a bomb at some random club?
Was he after me?
This was getting ridiculous.
"Mel..."
Thank goodness. The silence was killing me.
"What?"
"Do you think I should turn off the AC?"
Is that important?
"Why?"
"You're shuddering."
I think we should stop doing this.
Speak for yourself, hypocrite.
Mel, why...
Don't even say anything, Neiar...
Something was not right.
But the air between us spoke for itself.
What the hell was this?
This was nothing particularly concrete. Nor abstract either.
Suddenly everything dissolved into the reality of the situation.
There was only me and Neiar, in a dim one-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of L.A...with random noises coming out of the lo-fi alarm radio.
No White Room. No Kira. No nothing.
And we weren't 15 anymore.
"Neiar, stop," my breath caught itself under my throat, when it finally sunk in. Neiar had dropped all his weight on top of me sideways, and putting his arms around.
He got up all at once.
No, actually...
"Sorry."
Don't stop
"Did you think things will get better by doing that?"
He looked at me the way he did 4 years ago.
Then...
SLAP!
"Dammit, Mello! What do you want me to say to get it through your thick skull that it's not okay! Everything is not okay! What you're doing is not okay!"
Rubbing my reddened cheek, I got up and glared at him. "Didn't I say before? Fuck the Institute!"
"It's not that, Mel! At the rate this is going, you might..." he stopped and turned. Then his fingers went back to playing with his hair again.
"Might not what? What is it? Say it Neiar! I might not make it, is that what you want to say?"
"We don't know what Kira is capable of!"
I know you don't want Kira to get in the way. Because you want to have me under your own control.
Because that's exactly what you're like.
"Don't underestimate me."
"I didn't."
"Don't give me that bollocks! You damn well did! Just the way you always did since 4 years ago!"
He glared at me with strange orbs forming in his irises.
Do you want to fuck me too? Like you did 4 years ago?
"Mel..."
"I'd rather get killed first than have you walk all over me."
It wasn't until I couldn't move my body at all and the wound in my arm stung that I realised how much power Neiar had over me right now.
"Aw..."
He hissed in my ears sharply I closed my eyes reflexively. "So that's how low you would go, huh, Mello? To feed your own inferiority complex against me you'd rather have Kira walk all over you? Hm!"
Breathing was suddenly very heavy for the both of us.
"I thought we were both all about hunting Kira down and put him to death penalty, but I seem to have made a mistake here!"
He had one leg pinning mine down, setting all his weight on me, one hand pinning my wrists over my head, and another one holding the bottom of my face, shaking like crazy. Looking down at me with that never-ending labyrinth in his eyes, I struggled to glare right back at them.
"Ugh...stop.."
He let go of my face, accidentally scraping the bruise on my chin in the process.
A familiar view...an inevitable de ja vu...again...
What's gotten into...
"Neiar, what the..."
Before I knew it, he was already bent down and licking at my bruise.
What are we doing?
"You're bleeding..."
He lifted his face up, and I couldn't help staring back at him, licking his lips, tasting my blood...
Mel...ahhh..aaah..stop...
It was wrong 4 years ago.
What are you doing to me, Neiar?
Will it make it less wrong now that we were no longer 15, no longer at the Institute...and feeling like this?
I wasn't sure who started it, but the next second everything became a blur as Neiar's mouth landed on mine, traces of my own blood slowly seeping into my taste buds.
Was it really about to happen again? After 4 years of nothing?
This was the mouth I was so familiar with 4 years ago...this kiss, hot and cold at the same time, unmistakably Neiar's...
Shoving his tongue deeper, I couldn't help it when my hitching breath caught in his mouth...
I can't believe this was really happening...
Neiar...did you want this too? Were you thinking about it before?
A part of me wanted him to stop for a second, just to let everything sink in, just to check that it was all alright...
Make me, Mel. Make me.
But like back then, once we were caught in the same trap over and over again, any thoughts about stopping just went straight out the window.
His hands were trailing down my face...rough and strong fingers I remembered from back then...
Kissing Neiar had always been an unexplainable experience. To describe the way he tasted, the way his texture felt, the way his breath smelt and blended with my own...no words could really capture it.
Drawing my hand up, I grabbed a handful of his hair, pressing him against me more.
Neiar, you...
This time, something was a bit different, though. There was a certain aura surrounding Neiar that I didn't find 4 years ago.
He wasn't a boy anymore. Back then all we had was raw lust, something we've just discovered and explored more with immature fascination.
Now, there was more to it. There was a certain awareness about each other that was overwhelming, as if being taken over by each other's existence was just not enough. It wasn't just about climaxing and how much pleasure we got from each other anymore.
"Ahh..." The kissing gradually turned more intense, wet and breathy sounds started to race with each other...as we felt each other tensed up.
It was beyond...intimate.
Maybe it was also the fact that we haven't done this for 4 years.
But now I didn't care anymore.
I just wanted to do it.
NEIAR:
Original sin.
That's what he was 4 years ago, that's what he is now, and that's what he'll always be.
I can't believe this was finally happening again. Those memories of the White Room were once so far away, but having him in my arms dragged it back immediately to the core of my soul.
God...Mel...
I was kissing Mel once again, with blind desire like never before. Then he slowly went lower...
That day when he left the Institute, I remembered it like yesterday. Since then, all that was left was the intense memories, sometimes sickening yet part of me yearned for it, to the point where pleasuring myself wasn't enough anymore.
Do you have any idea what you've done to me, Mel?
He was breathing heavily against my neck, so I shifted a bit, giving him some room. But his hand fisted tighter in my hair as he tried to take control. If I didn't know Mel I wouldn't thought such fervent and insatiable desire existed. He was hot, panting and twisting beneath me, wanting more of me, and I couldn't say I was any different.
"Ohh..."
My heart was suddenly thundering mercilessly, threatening to rip my ribs apart and burst my chest open. I needed to loosen up the circulation.
I felt very...hot. Feverish. Restless. Uncomfortable. I had to do something about it.
I wanted it so bad...if I didn't get it I was sure I'd explode.
I want you...really badly...
One of Mel's hand slipped under my white shirt now, and from the way his skin was sticking against my chest I could tell I've started perspiring like I haven't been for quite a while.
I haven't been touched like this for far too long...
"Mel..."
Itching to do the same, I pulled down the zipper of Mel's tight black leather top impatiently, exposing the pale skin I was so familiar with. I noticed a blue mark near his sternum, probably from the impact at the office before, but it didn't seem to bother him at all. His prominent rosary was still dangling across his chest, emanating the occasional glint from the rare light.
I stopped for awhile, trying to catch my breath, then had a real good look at him beneath me. Those eyes I knew too well, wanting and lusting for me only, his chest moving up and down as his breaths slipped in and out of his now wet and swollen lips, its glistening red colour a stark contrast to his pale face.
He's changed, alright.
Mello was no longer that brassy 15-year-old boy who fucked me whenever he was pissed off like a little baby losing its favourite toy. He was a 19-year-old man now. Traces of his soft, curvaceous face were now completely gone, replaced by sharp features, and a toned, hard body evident in the faint muscular patterns I noticed around his stomach area. Although his intense sexual appetite never changed, if not, it's even increased by ten fold.
"Neiar..."
Tugging at my shirt sleeves impatiently, he tried to pull it off while his other hand worked on the buttons.
/The way you're bathed in light...reminds me of that night.../
The radio was still playing.
/Come to me sweetly, come to me.../
It was a rather out-of-place observation to be making at a time like this, but I couldn't help hearing it, the song rather stood out.
"Mmh..." Kissing him again and again seemed like a really good idea at the time.
I've almost forgotten how good this feels. Although Mello was the only person I've ever done it with.
His hands were on my chest, drawing invisible patterns all over, leaving warm traces along. And every single touch set fire to my insides, eventually focusing to one point.
/See the road rise up to meet us...it's in the air we breathe tonight.../
Suddenly there was an urge to increase the pace.
This was the main difference...as far as I knew. Because if I remembered correctly, back in the White Room, it was always quick, rushed and discreet. Now there was nothing to hide from. There was no rush. Just pure indulgence we haven't treated ourselves with for 4 years.
The next thing I knew my shirt was completely off, and Mel sat up briefly to get his entire top off.
Yes, I needed that too...
He pulled me closer, and I answered the invitation by closing the distance completely, feeling the warmth of skin against skin. Unable to take my mouth off him, I held him tighter and felt his heart pounding against me as he grew hotter and wilder in my arms, itching to become one with me.
Mel, do you have any idea how much I've thought about this for the past 4 years?
/Oh yeah, we meet again...it's like we never left.../
Because not long after you left the House, I've never once set foot at the White Room again.
/...time in between was just a dream...did we leave this place/
"Ah!"
Before I knew it, Mel had shoved his hand down my pants.
He always knew how much I liked it...and my body moved by itself, thrusting into the cup of his palm, playing with my erection through my undies, chest rubbing faster against his, wanting and needing him closer to me.
/This crazy fog surrounds me...you wrap your legs around me.../
I was aroused beyond words and if I wasn't careful I was in danger of coming in my pants and all over Mel's hand.
"Mel...wait...ahh..."
It was almost hard to talk as Mel's mouth was muffling my words, his saliva dripping all over, forming a thin thread connecting our lips...and with what's left of his control, he managed to mumble a few words to me,
"Neiar...touch me..."
Panting and gasping in between, searching for what's left of my coordination and control to move my hand towards the front of his pants, I grabbed on to his zipper handle and tugged it down impatiently.
He was already hard and weeping at the tip, he wouldn't have asked me to touch him unless he was this aroused. Tugging his undies aside, I grabbed hold of his erection and ran my fingers along the length.
"Ahh!"
Burying his face in my neck, muffling his moans and pants, I couldn't help but being pushed further and closer to the edge. Soft strands of blond hair caressed my shoulders, some of them wet and sticking to me glued with our mixed sweat. He had one hand mirroring my movements, and I felt more and more wetness seeping out and into his hand.
I wanted to set myself free, and him too. It was like we were restrained and if I didn't do something about it soon...
Taking his hand out of my pants, I shifted and pushed him back down on the bed, pressing one leg against his thigh, feeling the unmistakable bulge in between...
"Neiaaaar...ahh..."
Mel was pleading now.
I know.
Lifting his legs up, gesturing him to let me take off his pants completely, he did so without much protest, and did the same to me.
It was strange. Hot. Feverish. Intimate. And I never wanted it to end. Mel was panting and writhing beneath me, naked and perfect just the way I remembered him.
"Mel...you..."
/...let me breathe...so we can go together.../
This time I took the initiative to run my hands all over him. Working my way down, the obscene memories rushed over me like a tsunami. He was just the way I remembered, his sensitivity, his reactions...everything. A hitch in his breath as I ran my tongue down his bellybutton. A sharp gasp as I teased his nipples with my tongue and fingers. A low moan as I licked down along his sternum. There was nothing I enjoyed more apart from making him tick. Back then, before outsmarting him, there was this.
Nothing turned me on more. Him losing control totally because of me.
Kissing him again, he lifted his knees up which acted as a clamp that held me on either side. This way, I couldn't help feeling his erection brushing up against me...and at this stage, he was just as wet as I was.
/...and all these wars are over...over...singin' la da da daaaaa...over...come to me, oh come to me.../
Moving down once again, I licked my lips and focused on the epicentre of Mel's arousal between his legs...and without thinking too much, I took as much length into my mouth as possible.
"Aaahhhhh...Neiar!"
He tasted different from back then, and definitely felt bigger.
A sharp twitch, followed by arching of his back, then his hands fisted on my hair.
Licking and teasing was not on the agenda. I just picked up one steady rhythm, and sucked hard. He was hot, slippery and wet, hard and throbbing wildly, rubbing against the insides of my mouth...it was dirty, sinful and wrong, but everything felt perfect. He always thrust so hard into me, as if wanting to shove all his violent attitude to the core of my soul, wanting to bruise me, wanting to humiliate me...
And for some sick masochistic reason, I found it fascinating to no end, because it was the only way he could nurse his wounded ego after being beaten by me.
Did you like it, Mel? Did I make you lose all control the way I often did in the White Room?
I continued working on him, harder and faster, narrowing my mouth sharply, engulfing him as tightly as possible...as a mix of his pre-cum and my saliva started dripping down my chin...
There was a metallic-sugary scent in the air...like back then...Mel was thrashing around on the bed, his head turning from side to side.
That's it. Feel me.
Again and again.
I'll make you remember me for the rest of your life...
And as I expected, it didn't take long.
"Neiar, I'm going to...aaah...aaaaahhhhhh...!
Spraying his juices deep into my mouth, I couldn't help but choking a little. As soon as he was finished, I spat them out all over the sheets, and it didn't take long for the familiar pungent protein smell to fill the air around us.
Mel was lying on his back, panting and sighing, sweaty and pink flushes staining his skin everywhere, his platinum blonde hair damp and sticking to his face. His legs were spread around him, exposing his gradually shrinking erection.
Back then I'd do just about anything to see him like this...
Then I got distracted by my own aching erection screaming for attention. Like a little boy possessed, the words spilled out of my mouth just like that.
"Mel...I want to fuck you..."
He didn't answer. Instead, he shifted to the side of the bed, fumbling around the drawer in the bedside table, and threw a small plastic package into my face.
"Put it on."
I grabbed it on my hand and examined it dumbly. A lubricated purple-coloured condom.
"Ah...right..."
We never bothered about this 4 years ago. We were each other's first.
But things were different now.
"I don't know what you've been up to the past 4 years."
'I don't trust you', was basically what he was saying.
Mel, do you know that you're my first and my last?
But it wasn't like I had any evidence to prove it.
MELLO:
There was an absence of movements for a few seconds.
Then the sound of ripping package. And the crinkle of plastic and rubber.
What the hell took him so long?
"You uh, need help with that?"
Haven't you ever used one of those before?
Which made me then wonder if he ever slept with anyone else other than me in the past 4 years.
"I'm fine, Mello."
Back then I probably wouldn't let him get inside me without me doing it first, or some other random agreement. But right now I really couldn't care less.
Neiar and I were naked in my bed, in my secret apartment downtown L.A. There was something strange about the whole situation. It was alien yet familiar at the same time. It was just like 4 years ago, but totally different at the same time.
"Ah..."
I felt him slowly lowering his weight down, pinning me down once again. His breathing was heavy, and came in short rags, gradually blocked by my neck. Then he lifted his face again and looked down on me.
Neiar
Even his eyes were unreal, although they've always been somewhat unusual. There was the familiar emptiness, but this time tainted with some sort of expression. Whether it was lust or frustration, I really couldn't tell.
Strange. Ironic. Back then his inhuman, blank stares never ceased to bug me, because they were intriguingly similar to the things in my past I've always wanted to forget. But now that it was filled with something, I felt somewhat...alienated.
Because the Neiar now and the Neiar I knew back then were the same person, but the situation was manipulated. And it mainly had something to do with me.
"Mel..."
He had his hands on my legs, gesturing me to get ready. So I did.
Then he bent down and landed his mouth on mine.
Kissing Neiar always felt dreamlike yet somewhat unravelling. He was cold on the outside, yet boiling hot on the inside. Even his eyes didn't reveal that much. And they said your eyes are the windows to your soul.
His hands were all over me now, rubbing, tracing, caressing and groping...overloading me with sensations. If there was one thing Neiar was good at, it was with his hands. I've told him that once at the White Room. And he returned the compliment by saying I was good with my mouth. His rough and warm hands' touches ignited something deep inside me that I couldn't quite explain. The sensitivity was increased by tenfold.
Neiar, I think...I want you...
"Ahk!"
A rather loud gasp escaped my lips as I suddenly sensed a well-lubricated finger pushing inside me.
"Hold on...Mel..."
"Uhhh..."
It was so uncomfortable...but gradually became more and more arousing...and within seconds I've found myself hard again.
Neiar took his sweet time, and slid his finger in a millimetre at a time, feeling me tensing around him...it stung a little, but when he pulled his finger out completely, I suddenly felt deprived of a particular treat.
"Ow!"
Two fingers were now making their way in, and Neiar promptly moved my legs apart further...leaving me twitching and writhing against the sheets...
Ah...Neiar...
What was it about him that enabled me to let him do these things to me?
And then it happened.
"Ooooohhhh...fuuuuuck! Neiar!"
It was stinging but sweet, painfully pleasurable...all in all...intense. It wasn't like he's never reached my sweet spot inside before. But I haven't had his fingers caressing my prostate for years now. And damn him, he always knew how to do it correctly.
Then the two fingers were drawn out, and something else came in to replace them.
I couldn't quite explain the feeling. At times it felt like I was being split open, but it was definitely worth it because I felt my legs shifting up willingly by themselves.
Neiar was feverishly hot, sweaty and panting on top of me, as he gradually shoved himself into me, inch by inch...bearing with the tightness.
"Ouch..."
It hurt...but I wanted more anyway.
"God...Mel..." he sighed as he finally managed to enter me fully. I was grabbing at his arms tight, twisting around uncomfortably, trying to get used to the sensation. After all, it has been a while since I had him inside me.
You dirty little slag.
I remembered saying something unintelligent like that many years ago. And of course, Neiar wasn't much of a responsive person.
But now...now was a different story.
Then he started moving.
"Ahh...ahhh...ah..."
The sounds of his ragged breaths filled the room, and I felt him sweat some more in my arms. It hurt a bit occasionally, but the sensation everytime he hit my sensitive spot was indescribable. Then he wrapped one hand around my hardness and started pumping hastily.
At this stage, it might even be better than 4 years ago in the White Room.
Neiar
Suddenly, everything blanked out. There was no Death Note. There was no Kira. There was no White Room and the Institute. Nothing mattered anymore. All that mattered was being in Neiar's arms, giving each other unspeakable pleasure, and dissolved in this delicious little sin.
I felt...somewhat safe. Even safer than when I was still at the Institute. Maybe it wasn't just Kira. Maybe it was the reality of having to take over everything and facing something intangible all by yourself, leading the way. A single slip could be fatal.
And that was something neither of us had to deal with 4 years ago.
It was kind of ironic, actually.
Back then it was a need to escape the confinement, to liberate ourselves. Whether it was hate or unhealthy rivalry obsession, it didn't matter. All there was was the lust, and all we had was each other.
I hate you so much...
Now, when we were completely free of everything, and everything was completely up to us, this became a different need. Having sex with Neiar was now an illusionary nurture, a temporary little safe place. And again, all we had was each other.
...I want to fuck you senseless...
He kept moving in steady rhythm, mauling my prostate over and over, driving me insane, overdosing me in ecstasy, as I unconsciously called his name again and again.
But just for tonight...I guess...
I need you, Neiar.
I came first, my sticky, hot seeds making a complete mess in Neiar's hand.
He thrust into me again and again, torturously, faster and harder with each throb, never wanting to stop...never wanting to let go. His protruding bones pressed hard against me, his kisses now blind and messy, leaving my lips swollen and raw.
"Ah...Mel...now...now!"
And it didn't take long.
Neiar came. As I felt him tense inside me, he let out a truly obscene moan, but quickly muffled it against the sheets. Feeling him exploding inside me was both familiar and alien, as I've experienced this before, but he never wore a condom before.
Then his grip on my sides loosened. Leaving a warm trace, it drew my attention to the mix of liquid sticking us together at the front. Not much different from 4 years ago.
And I somehow hated the thought of it being over.
He collapsed on top of me, panting and trembling, and unlike back then, he didn't get off me as quick as possible. Lying there looking up into the ceiling, I stretched a hand up and ran it through his tousled hair. They were as soft as I remembered.
This was real. As real as the weight of Neiar's hot and sweaty body pinning me down. And it strangely felt safer than ever, it was like I had a protective barrier around me.
Do you want me now?
I turned aside to glance at the alarm clock.
01:17 AM.
Well, got to admit, Neiar.
Then sighed.
It was kind of nice seeing you again after 4 years.
Now was all that mattered. Anything else after this would come back and haunt me tomorrow.
Or whenever I let it...whenever I feel like it.
Unlike 4 years ago in the White Room, where things always haunt us down the day after, and often the only thing that could make it go away was to do it all over again.
Stretching sideways and reaching out, I pulled the bedside drawer once again, and fumbled for a bar of chocolate I didn't finish earlier.
Well, look at you, Neiar.
Can you handle your little demons now?
If that was the reason...I'd let you fuck me however much you like.
Crackle.
The first bite was always so intoxicating. And I wondered if my oral fixation with chocolate had any association with the whole thing between me and Neiar.
Nevertheless, it was a little memoir.
I looked back at the figure lying on top of me.
"Neiar..."
He didn't budge.
"Hey, Neiar?"
Oh, great.
END