He hadn't thought this through past getting into a room so he didn't really care when the door shut and they continued, not even looking for the bed he assumed should probably be there. Mello wasn't sure when he'd realized how much he'd missed this--sometime between that first touch and the kiss--but now he couldn't take his hands off Matt's body,
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Mello screamed right into Matt's mouth when he came, digging his heels into Matt's skin hard enough to bruise as he tightened his legs, scratching bloody marks into his shoulders.
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He let go of the collar then, slowly, his fingers aching from gripping it so hard.
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Panting heavily, Mello let himself down slowly to lay on the table when Matt let him go. The collar had unlocked and loosened, but he didn't have the wits about him to take it off, focusing only on breathing for the moment, and on the way his body still felt alight with sensation. It was less intense now though, like echoes through his nerves. It felt like floating, yet the cool wood against his bare back was grounding at the same time, and it was nice. He seemed to have forgotten all about the fact he was still bleeding and his skin was filthy with it.
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It was another dream. This was a partial reality and each moment that he was caught in another whirlwind it felt like he was capable of recognizing himself less after.
But this recognition was something else. "I think we're getting better at saying hello," he mentioned, looking around as if he would somehow magically find a cigarette waiting for him to take. It wasn't there and his eyes went down to Mello instead. "Or else the hotel is getting better at getting a reaction from us." He didn't like to think that was it, the hotel got too much credit for things already. "Your neck looks like murder."
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"Hello," he drawled breathlessly, reaching up slowly with one blood smeared hand with the intent to touch Matt's face. It didn't work. Apparently, his depth perception was currently shot and Mello just let his hand fall with a thump onto the table again, panting shallowly.
Oh, yeah. His neck. Strange how he'd forgotten when the blood was everywhere, sticky beneath the backs of his shoulders and the table.
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Kissing was nice. Letting out a breath of a whine when it was over, Mello blinked up at Matt one moment and the ceiling the next, realizing he'd disappeared and remembering to turn his head only after Matt spoke. "Fuck if I know," Mello muttered, but by then Matt had already found his pants.
He was still working his way back to something coherent, an existence that involved more than laying here thinking the lights made Matt's messy hair pretty. He was smeared with blood too, sticky trails of it down his chest from Mello.
"Nnn... no. Too far." He was content laying here and exhaled slowly, pushing the palms of his hands flat against the wood at his side because it felt cool against his skin and his body seemed confused between whether it was hot or cold still. Mello didn't mind. He still felt satisfied and pleasantly blank.
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