death note/reaching the moon

[ca_te]

“Lights will guide you home,

And ignite your bones,

And I will try to fix you”

[Fix you- Coldplay]

There are things that God shouldn’t accept to be broken, this is what Matt thought as he stood in front of Mello, his body skinny, half-burnt and half-buried under debris. The dust hadn’t deposited yet and it was  hard to breath, the dust scratching his throat worst than the smoke of his cigarettes. When Matt found him Mello was silent, he wasn’t even calling for help, he was just waiting, and Matt wondered if really Mello had been so sure that he would have come to rescue him, after so many years apart, so many years abandoned. And indeed he was there, kneeled down, trying to move bricks and pieces of walls out of the way. Mello grunted lightly, Matt didn’t have the courage to talk, and their heavy breaths filled the dusty air. It was hard to take Mello out of there and carry him to the car, Matt was afraid of the pain Mello surely was feeling. He tried to hold him up, his arm around Mello’s waist, probably he touched a particularly sore spot on Mello’s side ‘cause the blond hissed and gripped Matt’s arm, his thin, bloody fingers sinking deep in Matt’s flash. Matt just bit his lower lip and endured, he knew he was the only one who could. It was the first time in his life that he had felt so useful, as if his existence had a sense.

When they were finally back at the little, untidy hole that Matt’s apartment was, Matt gently and slowly started to peel off the leather which had gotten glued to Mello’s skin. He wiped away the blood that Mello had drown out biting his own lower lip. Matt knew all too well that Mello would have never wanted to cry out in pain, not even in front of him.

It was hard to look at the blond’s ruined skin, it made Matt flinch with pain, and yet he continued to medicate it, cleaning the burns and covering them with cream and clean gauze. He had never had to take care of something or someone in his whole life, and it was terrifying, the idea of Mello being in his hands.

He really didn’t know how to cure a person, or which pills and creams were the best to be used, but looking at Mello, looking in the hard ice of his eyes, was enough to make Matt act on impulse, and don’t stop. When he had finished to clean up the wounds he rushed to buy some painkillers, and finally Mello could sleep. He slept quietly on Matt’s bed, his bandaged chest rising and falling regularly, as a blanket hang out on a breezy summer day. And Matt sat by his side, head between his hands, warm tears rolling down his cheeks freely ‘cause Mello couldn’t see them. It wasn’t pity, Matt knew that Mello would have never accepted it, it was just that he felt as if someone had stolen something from him. ‘Cause even though they had been separated for so long, for Matt there was no doubt that Mello’s beauty belonged to him, that only he had seen the perfect way in which Mello’s back arched as he came, the way his skin seemed to shine lightly at night, when only the little lamp on the nightstand was on.

Slowly Mello recovered, and the scar blossomed. At the beginning Matt couldn’t help to feel uneasy when looking at it, ‘cause it was like a parasite living with the Mello he used to know, the Mello he used to worship, and he didn’t dare to touch it, that skin which looked as the surface of the moon when they used to look at it through the lenses of Roger’s telescope back at Wammy’s.

He desired to touch it though, to feel Mello under his fingertips, to make Mello feel anchored to reality, anchored to him.

It was a rainy night, the rain drops seemed tears splashing against the glass of the windows. They had finally removed Mello’s bandages and the blond was sitting on the couch, staring out of the window, at some undefined blurred light outside. Matt was sitting on the floor, trying to focus on a video game but Mello’s presence at his side was just too strong, it made the hair at the back of his neck stand up and his blood running faster. Somehow Mello had always had such an effect on him.

Mello’s voice was low when he spoke.

-I would have never thought it possible.

The words hung over Matt’s head, around his ears and sank in the silence of the room, in the smoke lingering in the air. He turned and looked up at Mello. His face was half hidden by strands of golden hair, but the scar was anyway well visible on his cheek. Mello lowered his gaze, till it met Matt’s.

-W-what you’d have never thought possible, Mel?

Matt tried with all his might to sound calm and relaxed, but Mello’s gaze seemed to cut right through him. He remembered the first time he had seen Mello, it was back at Wammy’s and the little blond had looked at him with disgust before beating him up.

-That even you would have found me repulsive.

Mello’s words were icy, they seemed to be cut with a knife, and they fell on Matt as sharp pieces of glass. He opened his mouth and closed it again. The couch squeaked as Mello got up and without thinking Matt grabbed Mello’s hand. The pale skin was soft under his touch. He didn’t look up at Mello as he spoke, he just stared at the fitted carpet.

-I would never find you repulsive, you know that.

Mello tried to pull his hand out of Matt’s, but the redhead just tightened his grip.

-Let me touch you.

The sound of the rain falling down mixed up with the sound of his heart beat and the soft gasp which escaped Mello’s lips.

Matt swallowed dry as he looked at Mello lying silently under him. He could see the anxiety in Mello’s eyes, it was such a rare sight, he had seen that look only when Roger had called Mello in his office to tell him about L’s death. It was fascinating.

Matt leant in and kissed lightly the ruined skin of Mello’s cheek. He could feel Mello taking in breath.

-You know well that I could never stop to want you. You are my damnation, you know that.

He smiled as Mello’s arms pulled him closer till Mello’s lips brushed against his earlobe.

-Good.

And in that single word Matt could feel all of Mello’s relief and need, and he felt like crying because he was the one Mello needed, him and no one else.

Making love to Mello that night was like making love for the first time. Mello’s touches on his skin were like lost, and confused butterflies which needed time to remember the way home, and Mello’s moans were light as balloons. Matt was afraid that they could fly out of the window and get lost in the rain, so he held Mello close, he could feel the scar brushing against his chest and Mello’s little sounds pouring right into his ear.

As they lay in bed, the night hours continuing to tic away, Matt kept caressing Mello’s scarred side. At first the blond had protested but then he just scooted closer. A single tear rolled down Matt’s cheek, ‘cause he felt as if he had finally reached the moon.