Mornings/Forbidden
Mornings are too harsh. When he climbs out of bed and dodges the debris of chocolate wrappers and crumpled paper on the floor, the light hits him in the face like a slap. When he moves towards the bathroom and tries to kick his brain into working with a lot of cold water applied to his face (Mello hates coffee), he slowly begins to remember what he dreamed at night.
Forbidden. Silver and gold hair mingling, small white hands running up his chest, ivory skin flushed red, breathing hard in pleasure. Not right, not possible, not what he wants anyway.
Dream-logic. In the dreams, hatred is represented by sexuality. That must be it. He tries to force down the memories, they return with a vengeance. Forget cold water in the face, he'll just take a shower. A cold shower.
Later, golden hair dripping, rivulets of water running down his towel-clad body, he returns to the bedroom. Matt is still sleeping, one arm flung across the bed, the other hanging down, knuckles brushing the floor. He nudges him awake; Matt's hair is messed up in endearing way, partially standing on end. He is surprised with a cold, wet kiss, as Mello's hands tangle in his hair and he tries to chase away the memories of smooth white skin and black eyes.