Even after being alone for so long, it's unnervingly easy to get used to Matt's presence. Here's like a watchdog at my side. Every morning, when I wake up, he's been up and is already dressed, and has something ready for me, like some kind of wife. This is the second week he's been here, and we haven't spoken much, just enough for me to explain to him his job and the details he needed to know about mine.
The silence between us is tense. I'm not a social butterfly, but I know when someone is hiding something from me. Matt definitely is, and it's driving me insane.
This morning, I wake up, and wait. The moment I notice him stirring from his sleep, I have him pinned under me. The sun is just rising now, and below me, he is shrouded in shadow, as I block him from the light.
As I wake the embrace of what was a fairly pleasant dream, I was stirring at my normal time. It's become my morning ritual to awaken at dawn, sit and stare at Mello's face is the first light of the day, then get everything ready for him. I want to be close to him, but I don't know how to anymore. How do I tell my old best friend that I want to jump his bones whenever I see his face? That I've spent many lonely nights with thoughts on him in my head while I released myself, imagining it was him.
With a yawn, I open my eyes, and suddenly, WHAM! Something knocks me down. I'm winded, and gasp for breath. When I open my eyes, I'm dazzled. From the window, the early morning g light creates a halo of gold around his messy morning hair. His eyes are shining like gemstones; green or blue, I can't even tell. He's in nothing but the pair of beat up black pajama bottoms he wears to sleep. And he is straddled around me. I look up, wondering if my innermost fantasies have come true.
"What are you hiding from me?" he asks. His voice is ice, and fire at the same time. It's driving me mad, in more ways then one. I pray he doesn't notice. I try so hard to contain myself.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" I stammer. He keeps his stare level. He know that I know what he's talking about. There's no words to tell him. I simply reach up for his face
And he pulls it down to meet his lips. I'm stunned for a moment, but then I react, kissing him back. So this was why the long awkwardness. Fine. If this was what he wanted, if it would relieve the tension in the cramped apartment, so be it. I hadn't had sex for a long time, but it is always a good way for me to relieve my tension. Never before with a man though, but that didn't bother me. Matt wanted this, he's bringing it on himself.
The kiss seems to last forever, but even forever comes to an end eventually.
"Mello?" I ask, confused, but he ignores me. I feel my face flush as he looks over my body. I'm still half-covered in blankets, but not for long. He throws them off of me. I'm just a small, frail looking figure on the floor, and I'm pretty sure that now he can see the erection that's quickly growing. I glance at his face again, his eyes are looking there. Yes, he see. I flush a deeper pink, but as embarrassed as I am, I can't leave the sight of his face and those burning eyes. I feel his hands come from nowhere tug at my pants and boxers. They're pulled down unceremoniously. I'm naked and exposed under his watchful eyes. I feel one of his cold hands grab my length. The sudden pressure then sends a wave of pleasure through me. He observes this, and then releases it long enough to pull his own bottoms down. He guides my body to my hands and knees. From behind me, he snakes a hand under and grabs me again. I can't hold back the small gasp I made as he slowly moves his hand up and down. Again, I am utterly disappointed when he lets go, but not for long. I know that behind me, he is positioning his member at my entrance.
It hurts when he puts it in. The low groan that escapes my lips isn't from pleasure, it's from pain. I think Mello can tell, because he waits. I slowly adjust to the feeling of him inside of me, before I finally mutter, "Move."
If he had a problem with me giving the orders, he doesn't do anything about. He picks up a rhythm of in and out, in and out. I am beginning to wonder when it will feel good for me and this pain will go away, when he touches the part of me that sends shivers down my spine. I let out a gasp. "More, more," I whimper. He picks up the pace aging, but this time it's faster.
Soon, we're nothing but a heap of thrusting and moaning. His hands are wrapped around my member, moving to the same rhythm he was making below. I was a chorus of whimpers and moans, and half-spoken whispers and desires.
But it's over suddenly, and all to quickly. We both reach our climax within second of each other. His warmth spreads inside of me, mine below me. He pulls out almost instantly, get up, and leaves to the bathroom. I can hear the sound of the shower going now, as I lay in the same place he left me, wishing he had given me another kiss, or perhaps even stayed with me for a minute after. I had gotten what I had wanted, but something was still missing.
I stood, letting the warm water wash over me. Fucking Matt hadn't been half bad. It didn't take a Whammy's student to figure out that this was what had kept him so distant and distracted. Perhaps now his work would have his full attention.
L, is it wring for me to try and manipulate his emotions like this? What would you have done?