Promise/Whole
It's perfect in a way that isn't accepted. He feels complete, he feels whole.
Matt's fingers curl over shoulders, one pale and smooth, the other covered with a twisted knotwork of scarred skin that runs up the graceful column of Mello's neck and drapes over the left half of his face. No matter how many times Matt tells him he's still beautiful, he always answers:
„Failure is never beautiful."
So Matt shows instead of telling, shows how much he wants and needs him. Licking and scratching at the frail chest that starts heaving, running his hands over the firm muscle on his stomach, sliding down, down, down on the bed until his head is between Mello's thighs. Mello shudders when Matt takes his first taste, and begins twisting and turning and screams until his throat hurts as his body succumbs to the skillful ministrations. When the climax arrives, he is carried away by a wave of pleasure and later he'll only sketchily remember shouting out Matt's name again and again.
When Mello has come to his senses again some time after, he dimly realises he has a good amount of torn-out copper hair clenched in his fists. He attempts an apology, but Matt waves it off.
„What's that bit of hair against hearing you scream my name like that? It's unimportant."
Mello attempts to joke, even though his head is still clouded. „You sacrifice your hair for my pleasure? I must be dear to you, really."
Matt's face suddenly turns serious. „You know I'd sacrifice everything for you. Hell, I'd die for you."
Matt tries to remember old school lessons and babelfish translations. He hopes he won't screw this up.
„Ich würde sterben für dich."
Mello is speechless at the sincere words and at being addressed in his mother tongue.
He lays a hand on Matt's arm.
„Please don't."