Pain
The scars were a small price to pay, Mello knew, and with that knowledge forced himself to accept them. He tried not to think about it - the hideous skin would never be a part of him again. They were superficial, inhuman; just a reminder of his mistakes that would haunt him forever. The real pains came later, when he concluded that the sensitive area hindered him in too many ways to simply become ignorable.
The first was in the form of Matt's instantaneous face-falter when they'd reunited in a moment, and Mello pulled off the leather hood. Now, maybe Matt hadn't said anything, and the tinge of disgust only lasted a second, so that Mello suspected it was never really there at all, and all in his imagination.
But when the lazy kisses trailed down his neck and crossed over into delicate territory, Mello always had to stop him, growling lowly under his breath, unwilling to show weakness. But he knew Matt was suspicious, and always unconvinced; it was next to impossible to maintain a solid front. They'd discovered that from day one of their new partnership - the partnership that had gone from cooperative and effecient to perilous and unpredictable. Matt would find out about the scars one day. And he wouldn't even ask - This much, Mello knew.
It would be in one of his completely vulnerable moments, baked in sweat and lost to mindless pleasures.
Mello shuddered as he remembered those hands, the ones idly tangled in a video game, miles away right now. Matt was enjoying himself, but he also waited. Matt was always waiting for him. And in just a few days those fingers would become occupied once again with more dangerous activities - venturing into places no one else would dare to go, snaring the hair that no one else would ever love, tracing the scar tissue that no one else would ever touch.
Mello decided, in three days and three nights, he would be back in that apartment - and he would bear the pain.