From the Forbbiden Lovers meme, locked to slavic_sinner

[lionguard]

Mello's apartment was a familiar place to him, as near to his memory as his own, even if it had been weeks since he'd last come here. Since they'd been caught, since he'd been forced to keep away over threats from various family members, dire promises of charges or injury or worse, for the perversion they had perpetuated for more than three months

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[lionguard]

He wasn't sure what he had come here for. The understanding, the acknowledgement in Mello's eyes made him feel odd, feel like turning away from it, regretting coming here and dragging this man back into the mess between them. He should have stayed far away from him. They had managed it for a while and he had kept quiet and done his work, aware of his family's disgust with him, their awareness of what he was. But as long as his father made use of him, as long as they believed he would never speak to Mello again, they were both left alone. Until tonight, when his father's drunken rage had made him its target, as he'd known it inevitably would.

The touch to his shoulder was devastatingly gentle by comparison. He pulled away from it, going to the window to push aside the curtain and stare down at the street. It wasn't such a stretch of the imagination to wonder if he had been followed. "It doesn't matter what happened. Our father hates me. Hates both of us. He won't be happy until I'm dead, and probably you too." He let the curtain fall and turned back to face Mello. He felt haunted by want for him, the attraction only intensified by how long they had been apart. He'd thought it might fade, hoped it might fade, but his blood was pounding at the sight of him; he had to swallow before he spoke again. "I came to tell you I'm leaving town. You should too. It isn't safe here anymore."

[slavic_sinner]

Mello let his hand drop, watching Leon's back and no longer bothering to hide the pain in his eyes while the other was turned away. Leon was the only reason he'd stayed close even if he hated it here, the only reason he'd even gotten through the years he'd actually had to live with that monster. Leon was still his closest friend, the only one he felt he could be truly open with-- and it had nothing to do with 'family.'

Family wasn't really a pleasant concept for Mello. He wanted nothing to do with it, and Leon-- Leon was more than that. He didn't care that what he felt, what he wanted even at this moment, was supposed to be wrong. What did it fucking matter anyway, when the whole world was built on sin?

Mello followed him to the window, the urge to reach out and take his hand suffocating. But he didn't. He simply stood there, looking up at him, and wondered how he could possibly have come to love anyone who resembled their father in any way. He looked nothing like Mello, after all, that dark hair, the larger build-- but his eyes were different. Maybe that was the key. Or maybe there was no logic to this and he should stop thinking of useless, stupid things, when he needed to focus on his brother's words.

"I've been waiting for you to finally decide to do that for years," Mello told him quietly. Why did Leon think he hadn't left before now? He sighed, shaking his head.

"But you should stay here tonight. Let me look at your wound. We can figure out what to do from there."

[lionguard]

He shouldn't agree to stay the night. Agreeing felt like falling back into the spiral of something he couldn't control, the way he felt for this man like a monster inside him that might open up and swallow him whole, but knowing how wrong it was for both of them--beyond sin, beyond morality and into the simple matter of life and death--didn't make him capable of stopping. His chin tipped in a faint nod. There was no one on the street below but he felt watched regardless, the back of his neck prickling, and maybe it was just the lingering presence of horror, of violence. Coming so near to death at his own father's hands had turned the world upside down and he didn't know what to do, what to say, but doing what Mello wanted him to do seemed like a good start. "All right."

He turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall. He wore his jacket, just not his shirt, and he gingerly eased off the garment and left it draped over the back of a chair before going to sit at the couch. It seemed as good a place as any without knowing where Mello wanted him to be. There was a memory of Mello riding him on this couch, the man's thighs tight around his hips as he moved on his cock and the thought of it made him flush briefly before he pushed it away. It seemed wrong to think about at a time like this. He didn't know what to think about and he half-hoped that his brother would tell him, take him in hand and keep telling him what to do so he didn't have to think, only obey. He sat motionless for a few moments, then reached up to undo the bandage one-handed. The wound was a good chunk of his shoulder gone, a sizable dent in his flesh from their father's bullet and he was only lucky that it had been mostly a graze in the end, that it hadn't lodged in muscle or shattered bone. Blood still oozed from it as he pulled the makeshift bandage away.

[slavic_sinner]

He waited for an answer, afraid Leon would refuse, afraid he would be pushed away. The words came as a relief, and Mello nodded with a soft exhalation of breath, following Leon to the couch and helping him gently with his jacket, completely unaware of what Leon was remembering. He was too worried at the moment, too focused on the blood staining the bandages and the wound slowly revealed as they were peeled off. Mello's jaw hardened, the hand he'd set on Leon's knee for support tightening suddenly in his anger.

"I'm going to kill him," he swore under his breath, his mind already spinning through possibilities, through what must have happened and how much pain Leon must be in and how many ways he could tear their father's guts out and feed them to him.

"Stay here. Don't move," he ordered, getting up suddenly to bring back the first-aid kit and a few clean washcloths, setting about cleaning and disinfecting the wound as soon as he returned. "What you need is a hospital," Mello muttered, dabbing at the injury with a washcloth drenched in disinfectant.

"Is there anything else? You didn't take a bullet, did you?"

[lionguard]

Leon turned his head to watch Mello's face as the wound was uncovered, to see the cold anger come into his eyes, as he'd known it would. "Don't," he murmured when Mello spat that he wanted to kill their father. He had no love for the man, but he respected his power, and entertaining thoughts of destroying him were useless; the best they could do was run, preserve their own lives somewhere far away from their family. He wanted to brush a kiss against Mello's mouth but the man pulled away before he could do more than think of it. His head turned to watch him until he was out of sight.

He wanted to follow but he'd been told not to move, and the pain of the wound was coming back to eat at him now that he'd uncovered it, as though he'd forgotten its existence until seeing it again. Blood trickled over his skin. He was dizzy, fighting the urge to put his head in his hands as Mello came back into the room, because he didn't want the injury to look as bad as it felt. "I don't need any hospital." He looked away as his brother began to clean the wound, gritting his teeth at the burn of disinfectant. "This is all. He was drunk and I was faster than him."

The wound ached horribly and he was still reeling from all of it, the vitriol their father had spewed at him, the shock of sudden violence. He turned his face to Mello's again and this time he did kiss him, brushing lips against his jaw hesitantly, as though he feared to be pushed away.

[slavic_sinner]

He could see it in his eyes, in the paleness of Leon's face, even if he was trying to hide it. "You're not okay," Mello insisted, soft but firm, holding the cloth down mercilessly for the greater good. He knew it must sting like hell, but--

Mello leaned closer, kissing his cheek when he felt Leon's lips, trying to be reassuring more than sexual. It was his turn to take care of his brother, like Leon had done for him before, like he had tended to the wounds that had left those scars all over his face and body.

"You've lost a lot of blood, haven't you?" He pulled the disinfectant-soaked cloth away, reaching for rolls of fresh gauze, wrapping and taping it carefully. He was hardly a doctor, but he could do this much. Severe bloodloss, however, was something he couldn't deal with. Leon had been walking all right though, and he didn't seem in immediate danger of passing out. Mello pulled back enough to reach over and push Leon's hair out of his face, looking into his face.