Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme

[dn_kink]

Welcome to the Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme!

How it works:

* Comment anonymously with a kinkfic request. All requests must contain a character or pairing/threesome/moresome (any combination of guys/girls/shinigami/whatever are OK, crossovers are fine too), and at least one kink. If you need inspiration, check out this huge list of kinks by eliade.

Comments

[5/9]

[anonymous]

Mello looks at him, now, the curves of his mouth almost teasing, but his eyes gleaming in a way that makes the ball of sunshine in Near's belly flutter worryingly, so worryingly, as if Near had swallowed a furry little creature and now it was scrabbling to climb back out. And suddenly part of Near wants another year or two to work this out, or at least eight months or so. But most of him still just wants Mello, actually, and so he reaches his free hand up and tangles it in Mello's hair and says, “Please.”

And almost every inch of him hates the obvious contradictions in his actions; within his own mind. He hates how illogical it is, how Mello can turn things around like this, because this was supposed to be Near doing something for Mello, and somehow it's as though it's become Mello doing something to Near instead. But as much as it frustrates him, Near is starting to develop the ghost of a conviction, in the corner of his mind, tucked away in a mental filing cabinet labelled I'm not sure, that this might be how life with Mello is simply supposed to work: all turned on it's head and warm skinned.

(There's a post-it on the cabinet marked I think I like it.)

“Can I have the egg now?” Mello asks. His hand has come to a halt at the light fold where Near's hand meets Near's arm. He has his fingers circled around the fine bones of Near's wrist, his thumb making soft, distracting circles.

Permission.

From Mello.

Near is used to other people requesting, inquiring, even deferring, but not Mello. Mello just takes and pulls faces when he doesn't get his way.

It's new, and it's frightening.

Maybe all the more so because Near knows, Near knows, Near knows that he can actually say no if he wants. The weirdest thing is that he doesn't even want to say no, not now that Mello's hovering over him, his hair all mussed up and sunlit.

“No,” Near says, and finds himself smiling at the expression on Mello's face. Mello rocks against him, the bastard, the warm, firm skin of his dick ghosting against Near's. They're neither of them fully hard, but Near thinks he will be if Mello does that again. He licks at his lips again, steadies his mind, and pushes his his own hips upwards to meet Mello's next sway, and this time it's Mello's mouth which opens a little and makes a noiseless sound.

“No,” Near says again, firmly this time.

Mello grins as if that's the best thing yet, and slides his hand back along Near's arm, away from the egg, and onto Near's chest. “So feed me,” he says, with a smirk.

Near brings his two hands together, catching his thumbnail beneath the edge of the white and orange wrapper, then catching his breath as Mello's dick rubs against his own again. “Y-you'll have to stop that,” he manages.

“Your body says you like it.”

Near hates Mello for approximately three point five seconds. “Yes,” he agrees shortly, then gives in and clarifies by rubbing slowly against Mello, his dick fully hard now and the pleasure growing warmer as firm skin touches firm skin, and explaining, in a small, annoyingly needy voice, “I don't want to come from just pressing against you.”

Mello laughs. “Just pressing against me is a perfectly good reason to get off, if you ask me. But if you'd prefer...”