Fic: Matt Hates Titles (Because He Objects To Aristocracy On Principle)
Title: Matt Hates Titles (Because He Objects To Aristocracy On Principle)
Author: ME! comedy_whore, Natalie, whatever you want to call me. Nothing negative, though. kthnx.
Rating: Um, not-hot porn? Shittiest R rating ever.
Summary: So here we have two stranded good-looking boys who are very good-looking and very stranded in a car at the side of the road.
Notes/Disclaimers: First-person Matt, because he's funny. And I'm sure we all know that I don't own these characters. Beta work done by the beyond awesome angryhamster, who owns my ♥.
Usually, when I take a road trip, one of the things I like to plan ahead for is appropriate gas stops. It’s just one of those things that allow for, I don’t know, a completed journey? It’s not like it’s an uncommon thing to think of; most cars need gas to run properly. If they run out, well, you’re fucked.
This is why I had found myself stuck on the side of the road, cold, with no food or entertainment at one in the morning. My fearless leader had turned out to be a rather thoughtless one. He had taken to pacing around the car in circles, as if inspecting it from every angle would present a miraculous solution to our problem and the car would whisk us away to the next city unscathed. His fists were clenched, and his face twisted into a snarl that would scare off any bear or coyote that happened along, which was not unlikely considering the thick forest that surrounded the deserted two-lane highway we were stuck on. He had started mumbling to himself.
“If you talk to it nicely, maybe it’ll grow wings and take flight,” I said from the open passenger’s side window as Mello made his sixth lap around the car. He said something rather angry and disrespectful, so I caressed the dash and whispered “It’s ok baby, he didn’t mean it. You’ve got wings under that hood, don’t you? Yes you do, you’re such a good car. I’m so glad we rescued you from that terrible old woman, yesssss.” Said old woman was probably also stranded, only she was at the hotel we had departed four hours before, and not stuck in assfuck nowhere without any resources.
I waited for Mello to swing his way around to my door again, and said “I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to create enough wind force to tornado us out of here, either, Dorothy. Get back in the car.” He said nothing, but finally stopped his circular parade and looked into the woods. I waited, but after a few minutes of silent tree-gazing, I started to get antsy. “What’s happening in there? Did you see a wood nymph?”
“I’m tired,” he said. “I need to sleep soon. But I’m fucking hungry, as well . . .” he trailed off.
“So, you’re gonna race right into the big scary forest and catch yourself a meal? I’ll stay here, and if I hear you scream I’ll send the car in after you.”
“What the fuck else are we gonna do? I’ll lose my mind if we just sit here.”
“If you think you’re gonna shoot yourself a deer or something, your mind is already gone. It’s pitch dark, for one, and it’s freezing cold on top of that. We’re better off waiting in the car for someone to come along, or if not, we can start walking in the morning.”
He seemed to consider this, and I was surprised when he suddenly made his way back to the driver’s side door and got in, but entirely not surprised when he grabbed his gun from under the seat and left without a word, slammed the door and marched off into the darkness. I watched him for as long as I could, his yellow hair the last thing I saw before he disappeared completely. What an idiot.
So, I sat there. I sat there and I stared straight ahead, annoyed that Mello had gotten us into such a situation, and pissed that he had gone an extra step further and deserted me. I really hoped he would come back with cuts and bruises, maybe an animal bite or two. What kind of genius travels across the country and doesn’t plan for gas stops or extra food or blankets or a car charger for my DS? Are these things really so much to ask for? It had sounded like a last-minute plan when he called me up and asked me to find us a car, but I certainly didn’t expect it to be so last-minute that he would completely ignore such simple unavoidable truths as, ‘no gas equals no travel’ and, ‘no food makes Mello go crazy and want to go hunting alone in the woods at night with a handgun’.
I climbed into the back seat and stretched out, not really expecting to get any sleep but hoping to relax my mind as much as possible. I wasn’t worried about him; the crazy fucker could take care of himself better than anyone I had ever known. I did wonder if he would manage to catch anything, though I had more doubts about that than hope. I started to think about how much I really wanted a hot shower, which was quite a lot, but eventually my mind decided to give up and allowed me to doze off.
I woke with what felt like a heart attack after Mello slammed the car door. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could hear him moving around in the front seat. The nearly-dead light on my handy Indiglo watch told me it was 3:23am.
“Did you kill anything?” I grumbled, as I wiped the gunk out of my eyes.
“Yes, I had a full turkey dinner, you missed out. Thanks for all the help.”
Figured.
“Didn’t even save me any cranberry sauce, did you?” I rolled onto my side, fully intending on getting back to sleep, despite the painful rumbling in my stomach at the thought of food.
“Why the fuck didn’t you come with me?” he growled.
“You think two guys stumbling around the woods in the dark is gonna attract small prey?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh I’m sorry, I thought you went in there to find food, not to have a shag up against a tree.” To be honest, I wasn’t really angry with him anymore at that point, but he’s got a certain tone, this voice he uses when he wants to get either a point across or a rise out of me, and fuck me if it didn’t work every damn time. I know why he does it, of course; if he’s the only one pissed off, that would just make him irrational, wouldn’t it?
“Who lets their friend wander off into the woods alone?”
“Who wanders off into the woods alone for over two hours?”
“You’re a real asset, you are. I’m so glad you came along.”
I sat straight up at this.
“’Came along?’ Don’t even try to pretend like I had a choice, or that you weren’t practically begging me to come with you.”
“Fuck off, Matt.”
“And please, remind me, who got us the car? And who was the driver who got us stranded because he was too thick to stop for gas when he had the chance? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it certainly seems like I’ve been the only asset on this trip so far, the purpose of which you still haven’t told me, by the way.”
“I was distracted.”
“What?”
“I was distracted, ok? My mind was elsewhere, and I missed the exit. I’m sorry.”
Yeah, that threw me a bit. Hearing Mello admit fault was a shock to the system that I’d rather do without, thanks. Mello’s not human, he never was, he never will be. He’s a fucking machine of madness and that’s the way I like him. If he started acting all normal and shit, well, where’s the excitement in that? I’d be perfectly ok if he never expressed sorrow again, that I’m sure of.
“Whatever, Mello. I’m sleeping.” I stretched myself out on the seat again, and closed my eyes. I could hear him messing around; unlacing his boots, snapping his phone shut after an unsuccessful attempt for reception, zippers, and the sound of leather on leather as he moved around the front seat of the car. I was about to suggest he shut the fuck up when he did just that, and I let the sound of weird birds and crickets lull me to sleep.
I’m not sure how long that lasted. It felt like only a few seconds, but this time I was woken by a weight on my stomach. If only I had night vision, I would’ve seen Mello poised on top of me, probably with a look of undying lust on his face, but I would never suggest that to him now.
All I could manage to say was a groggy “what the fuck?” before he had his lips pressed against mine, in what was the most unromantic yet interesting kiss I’ve ever had. It wasn’t particularly hot, as he didn’t move his lips around at all and was pressing so hard I’m sure blood would have been shed had it lasted much longer than it did. I liked it, though.
He pulled away after a while, and all I can remember from that particular moment is wishing, to any sort of god that would listen, that I could see his face - but, I could feel his breath on my lips, and his hair on my face, and that was good enough.
“What was that for?” I asked, though I’m not sure why. I really didn’t feel like talking, if you know what I mean.
“Me, mostly,” was his quiet reply. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all,” I whispered, and I pulled him back down, this time with full lip movement. It wasn’t long before his tongue was massaging mine, forceful and needy, and when he started grinding his hips against me, the restriction of pants had never been more annoying. All of a sudden, it was as if my hunger for food was manifesting itself in hunger for him, and my hands were running over his back, through his hair (thank god I had taken my gloves off earlier), and down to the waist of his pants to tug on the laces there. He seemed to find this agreeable, and moved his mouth to my neck and planted it there, sucking and licking my sanity away. I couldn’t contain the moans and heavy breathing that made their way out of my chest as his teeth bit down, hard, and that was the point where I completely lost it.
I bucked my hips up in a desperate attempt for more contact, as my fingers finally managed to tear apart the stupid laces and wrap around his cock, warm and hard. He growled into my neck, sending a wave of need and lust straight to my groin. His hands had found their way up under my shirt, and he broke away from my neck long enough to nearly rip the thing off me.
I continued my work on his cock with my right hand, squeezing and stroking as if I knew what I was doing, while he had taken the middle finger of my left into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and sucking lightly on the tip, demonstrating that he knew exactly what he was doing. “Ooooh god,” I moaned, wishing once again for the ability to see in the dark. I had long since lost control of my hips, mindlessly grinding upwards and physically begging for more. His hands roamed all over my chest and finally down to my belt, and that night still holds the record for least time spent getting my pants off. He moved down and replaced my finger with my cock, licking once around the tip before engulfing the entire length, sucking and moving up and down, much too slowly. Every time I felt the back of his throat I cried out, moving my hips with his movements and tangling his hair between my fingers. I wanted more, I wanted it faster, but he didn’t seem to care as he scratched his nails on my thighs and licked up, agonizingly slow.
“God dammit, Mello! You’re killing me, Jesus.” It didn’t matter how much I pushed or pulled on his head, he refused to move any faster. I was sure I would lose my mind or pass out if he didn’t get a move on soon. But then the fucker stopped, lifted his head, and laughed. I couldn’t believe it.
“God, no, what the hell are you doing? Are you actually trying to kill me?” My hips bucked and pleaded of their own accord.
“I don’t understand your rush, Matt. Don’t you want to savor this moment?” I could hear his grin, that evil bastard.
“Yes, well, let’s save the walks in the park for later. Right now I really just need to come all over your face, if you don’t mind.” My desperate fingers ran over his hair and mouth, and I was seriously tempted to finish the job off myself, but then he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the seat.
“Right. Let’s keep it off my face, shall we?” I would have replied to this with a snappy remark, I’m sure, if he hadn’t swallowed my cock at that point and completely dissolved any chance I had of making intelligent conversation. He was relentless then, sucking hard and moving so fast I thought the whole car was spinning. It was so good, I started babbling like an idiot and calling his name and my hips had to have been detached, they were bucking so violently. I’m not exactly sure how he managed not to choke. I would’ve liked to give him a verbal warning when I was near the breaking point, but again, I was unable to think, so I cried his name once again and dug my nails into his hands as he sucked and licked me through the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t move, and fucking hell, I still couldn’t see him as he licked a trail of come and saliva up my body. He kissed me then, making sure I knew exactly what I tasted like before he pulled away, and said, “You can continue what you were doing, now.” It took a good thirty seconds for my brain to figure out what he was on about, but I came to my senses and reached into his pants again. I vaguely remember wondering why he was still wearing his clothes while I was completely naked, but I suppose I didn’t let it bother me once he had buried his face into my neck and was making the most delicious little moans into my ear. If I could listen to one thing for the rest of my life, I tell you, that would be it.
It took a bit longer than expected, but eventually he was whispering my name and coming into my hand. We stayed there for a long time afterward, him laid out on top of me, both of us breathing deep and not really moving much.
“I was distracted.”
“What?” I asked, admittedly startled by the break in silence.
“I missed the exit because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I would’ve pulled over anyway, if we hadn’t run out of gas.”
“Right. Well, aren’t you sweet?” I really didn’t know what to say to that, honestly. I still don’t know how long he’d been waiting to ravish me up to that point, and I’ve never been inclined to ask.
“I went out to the woods because I was pissed off with myself for getting us stuck here.”
“And you took the gun with you . . . ?”
“I don’t go anywhere without it.”
“Right.”
And that was it.
We slept through the rest of the night and most of the morning, got up and started walking to the next city, which only took five hours and no small amount of listening to Mello complain about his sore feet. Still, it could have been worse . . . and this time, when Mello decided to take a detour into the woods, I followed him.
Author: ME! comedy_whore, Natalie, whatever you want to call me. Nothing negative, though. kthnx.
Rating: Um, not-hot porn? Shittiest R rating ever.
Summary: So here we have two stranded good-looking boys who are very good-looking and very stranded in a car at the side of the road.
Notes/Disclaimers: First-person Matt, because he's funny. And I'm sure we all know that I don't own these characters. Beta work done by the beyond awesome angryhamster, who owns my ♥.
Usually, when I take a road trip, one of the things I like to plan ahead for is appropriate gas stops. It’s just one of those things that allow for, I don’t know, a completed journey? It’s not like it’s an uncommon thing to think of; most cars need gas to run properly. If they run out, well, you’re fucked.
This is why I had found myself stuck on the side of the road, cold, with no food or entertainment at one in the morning. My fearless leader had turned out to be a rather thoughtless one. He had taken to pacing around the car in circles, as if inspecting it from every angle would present a miraculous solution to our problem and the car would whisk us away to the next city unscathed. His fists were clenched, and his face twisted into a snarl that would scare off any bear or coyote that happened along, which was not unlikely considering the thick forest that surrounded the deserted two-lane highway we were stuck on. He had started mumbling to himself.
“If you talk to it nicely, maybe it’ll grow wings and take flight,” I said from the open passenger’s side window as Mello made his sixth lap around the car. He said something rather angry and disrespectful, so I caressed the dash and whispered “It’s ok baby, he didn’t mean it. You’ve got wings under that hood, don’t you? Yes you do, you’re such a good car. I’m so glad we rescued you from that terrible old woman, yesssss.” Said old woman was probably also stranded, only she was at the hotel we had departed four hours before, and not stuck in assfuck nowhere without any resources.
I waited for Mello to swing his way around to my door again, and said “I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to create enough wind force to tornado us out of here, either, Dorothy. Get back in the car.” He said nothing, but finally stopped his circular parade and looked into the woods. I waited, but after a few minutes of silent tree-gazing, I started to get antsy. “What’s happening in there? Did you see a wood nymph?”
“I’m tired,” he said. “I need to sleep soon. But I’m fucking hungry, as well . . .” he trailed off.
“So, you’re gonna race right into the big scary forest and catch yourself a meal? I’ll stay here, and if I hear you scream I’ll send the car in after you.”
“What the fuck else are we gonna do? I’ll lose my mind if we just sit here.”
“If you think you’re gonna shoot yourself a deer or something, your mind is already gone. It’s pitch dark, for one, and it’s freezing cold on top of that. We’re better off waiting in the car for someone to come along, or if not, we can start walking in the morning.”
He seemed to consider this, and I was surprised when he suddenly made his way back to the driver’s side door and got in, but entirely not surprised when he grabbed his gun from under the seat and left without a word, slammed the door and marched off into the darkness. I watched him for as long as I could, his yellow hair the last thing I saw before he disappeared completely. What an idiot.
So, I sat there. I sat there and I stared straight ahead, annoyed that Mello had gotten us into such a situation, and pissed that he had gone an extra step further and deserted me. I really hoped he would come back with cuts and bruises, maybe an animal bite or two. What kind of genius travels across the country and doesn’t plan for gas stops or extra food or blankets or a car charger for my DS? Are these things really so much to ask for? It had sounded like a last-minute plan when he called me up and asked me to find us a car, but I certainly didn’t expect it to be so last-minute that he would completely ignore such simple unavoidable truths as, ‘no gas equals no travel’ and, ‘no food makes Mello go crazy and want to go hunting alone in the woods at night with a handgun’.
I climbed into the back seat and stretched out, not really expecting to get any sleep but hoping to relax my mind as much as possible. I wasn’t worried about him; the crazy fucker could take care of himself better than anyone I had ever known. I did wonder if he would manage to catch anything, though I had more doubts about that than hope. I started to think about how much I really wanted a hot shower, which was quite a lot, but eventually my mind decided to give up and allowed me to doze off.
I woke with what felt like a heart attack after Mello slammed the car door. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could hear him moving around in the front seat. The nearly-dead light on my handy Indiglo watch told me it was 3:23am.
“Did you kill anything?” I grumbled, as I wiped the gunk out of my eyes.
“Yes, I had a full turkey dinner, you missed out. Thanks for all the help.”
Figured.
“Didn’t even save me any cranberry sauce, did you?” I rolled onto my side, fully intending on getting back to sleep, despite the painful rumbling in my stomach at the thought of food.
“Why the fuck didn’t you come with me?” he growled.
“You think two guys stumbling around the woods in the dark is gonna attract small prey?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh I’m sorry, I thought you went in there to find food, not to have a shag up against a tree.” To be honest, I wasn’t really angry with him anymore at that point, but he’s got a certain tone, this voice he uses when he wants to get either a point across or a rise out of me, and fuck me if it didn’t work every damn time. I know why he does it, of course; if he’s the only one pissed off, that would just make him irrational, wouldn’t it?
“Who lets their friend wander off into the woods alone?”
“Who wanders off into the woods alone for over two hours?”
“You’re a real asset, you are. I’m so glad you came along.”
I sat straight up at this.
“’Came along?’ Don’t even try to pretend like I had a choice, or that you weren’t practically begging me to come with you.”
“Fuck off, Matt.”
“And please, remind me, who got us the car? And who was the driver who got us stranded because he was too thick to stop for gas when he had the chance? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it certainly seems like I’ve been the only asset on this trip so far, the purpose of which you still haven’t told me, by the way.”
“I was distracted.”
“What?”
“I was distracted, ok? My mind was elsewhere, and I missed the exit. I’m sorry.”
Yeah, that threw me a bit. Hearing Mello admit fault was a shock to the system that I’d rather do without, thanks. Mello’s not human, he never was, he never will be. He’s a fucking machine of madness and that’s the way I like him. If he started acting all normal and shit, well, where’s the excitement in that? I’d be perfectly ok if he never expressed sorrow again, that I’m sure of.
“Whatever, Mello. I’m sleeping.” I stretched myself out on the seat again, and closed my eyes. I could hear him messing around; unlacing his boots, snapping his phone shut after an unsuccessful attempt for reception, zippers, and the sound of leather on leather as he moved around the front seat of the car. I was about to suggest he shut the fuck up when he did just that, and I let the sound of weird birds and crickets lull me to sleep.
I’m not sure how long that lasted. It felt like only a few seconds, but this time I was woken by a weight on my stomach. If only I had night vision, I would’ve seen Mello poised on top of me, probably with a look of undying lust on his face, but I would never suggest that to him now.
All I could manage to say was a groggy “what the fuck?” before he had his lips pressed against mine, in what was the most unromantic yet interesting kiss I’ve ever had. It wasn’t particularly hot, as he didn’t move his lips around at all and was pressing so hard I’m sure blood would have been shed had it lasted much longer than it did. I liked it, though.
He pulled away after a while, and all I can remember from that particular moment is wishing, to any sort of god that would listen, that I could see his face - but, I could feel his breath on my lips, and his hair on my face, and that was good enough.
“What was that for?” I asked, though I’m not sure why. I really didn’t feel like talking, if you know what I mean.
“Me, mostly,” was his quiet reply. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all,” I whispered, and I pulled him back down, this time with full lip movement. It wasn’t long before his tongue was massaging mine, forceful and needy, and when he started grinding his hips against me, the restriction of pants had never been more annoying. All of a sudden, it was as if my hunger for food was manifesting itself in hunger for him, and my hands were running over his back, through his hair (thank god I had taken my gloves off earlier), and down to the waist of his pants to tug on the laces there. He seemed to find this agreeable, and moved his mouth to my neck and planted it there, sucking and licking my sanity away. I couldn’t contain the moans and heavy breathing that made their way out of my chest as his teeth bit down, hard, and that was the point where I completely lost it.
I bucked my hips up in a desperate attempt for more contact, as my fingers finally managed to tear apart the stupid laces and wrap around his cock, warm and hard. He growled into my neck, sending a wave of need and lust straight to my groin. His hands had found their way up under my shirt, and he broke away from my neck long enough to nearly rip the thing off me.
I continued my work on his cock with my right hand, squeezing and stroking as if I knew what I was doing, while he had taken the middle finger of my left into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and sucking lightly on the tip, demonstrating that he knew exactly what he was doing. “Ooooh god,” I moaned, wishing once again for the ability to see in the dark. I had long since lost control of my hips, mindlessly grinding upwards and physically begging for more. His hands roamed all over my chest and finally down to my belt, and that night still holds the record for least time spent getting my pants off. He moved down and replaced my finger with my cock, licking once around the tip before engulfing the entire length, sucking and moving up and down, much too slowly. Every time I felt the back of his throat I cried out, moving my hips with his movements and tangling his hair between my fingers. I wanted more, I wanted it faster, but he didn’t seem to care as he scratched his nails on my thighs and licked up, agonizingly slow.
“God dammit, Mello! You’re killing me, Jesus.” It didn’t matter how much I pushed or pulled on his head, he refused to move any faster. I was sure I would lose my mind or pass out if he didn’t get a move on soon. But then the fucker stopped, lifted his head, and laughed. I couldn’t believe it.
“God, no, what the hell are you doing? Are you actually trying to kill me?” My hips bucked and pleaded of their own accord.
“I don’t understand your rush, Matt. Don’t you want to savor this moment?” I could hear his grin, that evil bastard.
“Yes, well, let’s save the walks in the park for later. Right now I really just need to come all over your face, if you don’t mind.” My desperate fingers ran over his hair and mouth, and I was seriously tempted to finish the job off myself, but then he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the seat.
“Right. Let’s keep it off my face, shall we?” I would have replied to this with a snappy remark, I’m sure, if he hadn’t swallowed my cock at that point and completely dissolved any chance I had of making intelligent conversation. He was relentless then, sucking hard and moving so fast I thought the whole car was spinning. It was so good, I started babbling like an idiot and calling his name and my hips had to have been detached, they were bucking so violently. I’m not exactly sure how he managed not to choke. I would’ve liked to give him a verbal warning when I was near the breaking point, but again, I was unable to think, so I cried his name once again and dug my nails into his hands as he sucked and licked me through the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t move, and fucking hell, I still couldn’t see him as he licked a trail of come and saliva up my body. He kissed me then, making sure I knew exactly what I tasted like before he pulled away, and said, “You can continue what you were doing, now.” It took a good thirty seconds for my brain to figure out what he was on about, but I came to my senses and reached into his pants again. I vaguely remember wondering why he was still wearing his clothes while I was completely naked, but I suppose I didn’t let it bother me once he had buried his face into my neck and was making the most delicious little moans into my ear. If I could listen to one thing for the rest of my life, I tell you, that would be it.
It took a bit longer than expected, but eventually he was whispering my name and coming into my hand. We stayed there for a long time afterward, him laid out on top of me, both of us breathing deep and not really moving much.
“I was distracted.”
“What?” I asked, admittedly startled by the break in silence.
“I missed the exit because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I would’ve pulled over anyway, if we hadn’t run out of gas.”
“Right. Well, aren’t you sweet?” I really didn’t know what to say to that, honestly. I still don’t know how long he’d been waiting to ravish me up to that point, and I’ve never been inclined to ask.
“I went out to the woods because I was pissed off with myself for getting us stuck here.”
“And you took the gun with you . . . ?”
“I don’t go anywhere without it.”
“Right.”
And that was it.
We slept through the rest of the night and most of the morning, got up and started walking to the next city, which only took five hours and no small amount of listening to Mello complain about his sore feet. Still, it could have been worse . . . and this time, when Mello decided to take a detour into the woods, I followed him.