Well, Matt would be pleased, although Near realized he'd sort of been looking forward to the planned wake. "A whip? Honestly, Mello." He couldn't help smiling slightly. "I've been expecting you." Well, it was half true.
My head comes around quickly. I feel my teeth wanting to bare themselves in a snarl. "Near." I say simply. I wasn't going to rise to his games. Not this time. Not ever again. "You've grown," I managed to say conversationally.
A trap. He's trying to trap me, the bastard. "I remember what's happened." I can't leave it at that. He'll ask questions. I don't want him to ask questions. I don't want to probe deeper than I needed to. Not yet. There were still too many things unresolved, too much research I still needed to do and I don't want him finding out. "I remember what I need to remember," I add. The thing I can't remember, that I don't want to admit is that I know I died. I know that. But, why am I back and why am I missing time?
"Matt didn't remember. Not at first. Not until I reminded him, told him to think about it." Near was smiling, but it was a melancholy smile. The same old Mello, an exasperation and a relief. "But then, realizing that you've died and are suddenly no longer dead is bound to be disorienting."
I glare at him, just noticing the blackness around his eye. I smirk. He needs a matching one on the other side. I ball my fists. "I am not 'disoriented,' nor am I having problems with my memory." That's all the warning he gets. I let a fist fly, hitting his uninjured eye. "Arrogant ape," I mutter. Fuck. Now, I'm starting to get turned on. I want to beat him. Oh, I want to beat him until I'm satisfied. I step back, my nails digging into the palm of my hand. "Don't try to pretend you're so smart."
Again, ouch. Even more so, really, because it set the other side of his face to smarting. "What, not going to pull a gun on me again?" Odd, the way Near was rising to the bait. The conversation with Matt must have rattled him more than he'd realized. "And it would be humiliating for you if I wasn't smart, wouldn't it? L's successor could hardly be otherwise."
The bastard is making fun of me again. Him and his fucking superiority complex. I roll my shoulders back, trying to force them to relax. The only reason you're L's successor is because I sacrificed everything to make you L's successor. You arrogant white ape! You couldn't have done it without me. I bit my tongue. He wasn't going to hear that from me. God, I want to beat him, to rip away his clothes and watch the wounds blossom under my hands, my feet. "Those who ride on the backs of others should be careful what they boast about." There, that should be obscure enough.
"The same old Mello," Near said aloud. "Is that how you see it? Do you prefer the thought of being ridden to working in tandem?" After some aspects of his talk with Matt, 'being ridden' brought up some implications it might not have usually, and Near tried to push them away. "Neither of us is as good as both of us." It was an admission he never thought he'd make to Mello.
Too far...too much. He is under me before I can even begin to think. HOW DARE YOU! "You bastard!" I can hear the screaming. I don't know if it is just in my head or if I actually said it out loud. I am never ridden. NEVER! I am never on bottom. I am TOP! I am strong! I AM L's RIGHTFUL HEIR! I see red. I feel flesh under my fingers. I hear screaming, I will not be defeated.
Fits of temper from Mello weren't unusual, but this sudden and intensely physical burst of rage was far beyond what Near might have expected, and before he knew it he was crouched on the floor, arms wrapped around his head to shield his face. "Damn it, Mello, you lunatic!" Why was I sad he was dead, again?
I can hear sounds that wanted to be words, but what I see, what my eyes are drawn to was the fabric covered ass. I want to see it turn red. I wanted to see the marks that I would put there. I search my clothing briefly. Heh. It's there. My riding crop. I lick my lips. I grab his pants, feeling his skin catch under my nails and yank down hard. I smile, licking my lips at the four groves my nails leave behind on his white white skin. I raise the crop and bring it down as hard as I can. The mark it leaves is beautiful, crossing the score marks my fingers left. I wait for his sobs, for the music they will be. How dare he insult me? How dare he? I will teach him better. He will learn just which of us is the best.
"Mello, what the hell..." Near squirmed, but was more loath than ever to move his hands away from his face; what if the crop hit his eyes? He tried to scrabble to his feet, but he'd stooped at an awkward angle, and with the repeated blows...
...and for some reason he seemed to breathing harder and faster than mere anxiety and fear could explain.
I know that look. I know that sound. The bastard...the bastard! I laugh. I push him down. "You're mine," I growl. I'd possess him. I'd make him mine and then he'd never be able to laugh at me again. I would be top. I would be in control. I feel heat pouring off his body and I want to be a part of it. But in my time, not his, not anyone else's. In mine!
I beat him, the crop leaving beautiful red marks up his back. I licked my lips. A little more. Just a little more. I brought the whip down again and I can see a trickle of shining red. I bend down and lick it. Sweet. Sweeter than chocolate. I need more.
What? What did Mello just say? It couldn't have been what it sounded like...
But denying logical conclusions wasn't something Near was capable of doing. And even without personal experience, it's pretty hard to construe being thrown to the floor, having your clothes pulled off, being hit with a riding crop...
Wait. That was Mello's tongue. Oh god. Another snippet of Matt's words - don't you ever get horny? - intruded on his memory, and Near couldn't help it, couldn't keep up his habitual reserve, even knowing he was in a very embarrassing position in a very public location. He moaned.
It was a hell of a time and place for a personal revelation.
Music. I hear music. I laugh again. He's mine. So very mine. I am winning. He is mine. I beat him again and his skin opens once more. I lick his blood again. I want to make him know he's mine. Make him know so he'll never forget.
In a pocket, I find a bottle of lotion. I don't remember why it's there and I don't care. It'll serve a purpose here and now. I put it in my mouth for now.
I press the riding crop handle into his neck, holding him down. My clothes are easy to move aside. Soon, I am free of them. My body aches for warmth, aches for heat. My ears long to hear just how he'll scream when I penetrate him. He whimpers when I pour the lotion on his beautifully red ass. In one quick motion, I claim him, I make him mine. I laugh as I release his neck and beat his back, his thighs, his ass.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
...and for some reason he seemed to breathing harder and faster than mere anxiety and fear could explain.
Reply
I beat him, the crop leaving beautiful red marks up his back. I licked my lips. A little more. Just a little more. I brought the whip down again and I can see a trickle of shining red. I bend down and lick it. Sweet. Sweeter than chocolate. I need more.
Reply
But denying logical conclusions wasn't something Near was capable of doing. And even without personal experience, it's pretty hard to construe being thrown to the floor, having your clothes pulled off, being hit with a riding crop...
Wait. That was Mello's tongue. Oh god. Another snippet of Matt's words - don't you ever get horny? - intruded on his memory, and Near couldn't help it, couldn't keep up his habitual reserve, even knowing he was in a very embarrassing position in a very public location. He moaned.
It was a hell of a time and place for a personal revelation.
Reply
In a pocket, I find a bottle of lotion. I don't remember why it's there and I don't care. It'll serve a purpose here and now. I put it in my mouth for now.
I press the riding crop handle into his neck, holding him down. My clothes are easy to move aside. Soon, I am free of them. My body aches for warmth, aches for heat. My ears long to hear just how he'll scream when I penetrate him. He whimpers when I pour the lotion on his beautifully red ass. In one quick motion, I claim him, I make him mine. I laugh as I release his neck and beat his back, his thighs, his ass.
Reply
Leave a comment