24hour_themes: Situational - Matt, Mello - Death Note
Theme: 13:00 - Self-image and personal security.
Title: Situational
Fandom: Death Note
Character/Pairing: Mello
Category: Character
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language and minor sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Death Note © Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi
Summary: Where all that’s left to do is take it like it is. Vague Matt/Mello.
Now that he was here, Matt honestly had no idea what to do. Mello was a mess, writhing and pulling the sheets straight from the mattress, curling in on himself before throwing his arms and legs out and just clawing. Like an angry cat, hissing and spitting out words Matt was sure his friend didn’t even realize he was saying.
Sometimes Mello ranted about Kira -- the damned bastard had gotten his name, had beaten him. Failure -- he’d failed. Sometimes he ranted about himself, his idiocy -- how could I be so stupid? he’d say. But most of the time, most of the time he ranted about Near, somewhere between a state of delusion and unconsciousness, body hot with fever.
“I need to--”
“He’s going to get ahead--”
“Fuck, let me go, I need to--”
But Matt wasn’t going to let him go anywhere, not like this. A lot of the time he was forced to wrestle Mello down, use the ten-plus pounds he likely had on Mello’s frail body to pin him to the mattress so he’d stop clawing, telling him to calm the fuck down. It really burned him up inside to see his strong, unrelenting, childhood friend like this, but in a way, Matt was just glad Mello had decided to allow him back into his life, as much of a danger zone that was in itself.
Yeah, Matt knew he’d probably end up dead, but he had all the opportunity in the world to walk right out if he wanted, right this very moment, and leave Mello here. But he didn’t. Matt would never do that, no matter what lengths Mello expected him to go in order for his batshit insane plans to carry through.
Several days passed with little progress on Mello’s part; between tending to his scarred body and keeping him drugged to the pain likely snapping through him with every twitch of muscle, Matt didn’t have much to do. Sometimes he sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, legs kicked out and a game cradled in his hands, smashing away at the buttons. The volume was clicked off even though he doubted it would rouse Mello from his fevered state; but wasn’t it the thought that counted, anyway?
A few times during said moments, Matt thought he heard Mello mumble something under his breath, but it was always soft enough that he could never quite catch it. That or he was only imagining it; he’d gotten noticeably jumpy since taking watch over Mello injured body. Where simple things like the UPS dropping off a new game he’d ordered online, ringing the doorbell and causing him to nearly topple over, to the sound of his neighbors arguing within the apartment next door, unfortunately adjoined by one wall of his bedroom -- Matt couldn’t let anything go by unchecked. It freaked him out. He didn’t know much of what had happened to Mello, besides the obvious damage that lay on his bed right now; he hardly watched the news. But Matt wasn’t able to force away the underlying trepidation that what if whatever it was showed up? It had to do with Kira -- Matt knew that much by the things Mello said in his unconscious condition.
He was edgy, and no matter how many cigarette packs he chain-smoked his way through, Matt couldn’t fight it off. For being such a laid-back guy, this whole situation had taken its toll on him, and heavily at that.
By mid into the second week, Mello was awake and all too anxious to get up, often cursing Matt and his mum into an early grave whenever he held him down by his right shoulder (as if he even got close to the other one, Mello would hiss out in pain) and threatened to tie him up if he didn’t stop struggling. Eventually it took more painkillers and some really -- admittedly -- harsh threats to get Mello to control himself, but by then Matt was about to pass out himself. He went to move away from the position he was in, one hand on Mello’s uninjured shoulder and the other planted on the mattress to hold himself up, when something impeded the movement.
Mello had both hands fisted in the front of his shirt, and as he bent to look closer, it seemed he wasn’t even awake. But when Matt attempted to yank away, Mello’s grip tightened. A no-go. “Damnit Mello, I can’t stand by your bed all day; you’re not a sniffling little girl, lemme go,” he grumbled more for his own credit as he didn’t expect the other to hear him. And like he’d figured, it didn’t work.
Eventually, Matt managed to wrestle himself out of the shirt he was wearing just so he could escape; you’d think an unconscious, dangerously underweight person wouldn’t be able to hold on that tightly! Not to mention Matt was just generally much more able than Mello, and yet he’d still had to resort to this. Now shirtless, he went ahead and let Mello keep the article of clothing, slumping into a sulk back on the floor.
Sullen as he was, he didn’t bother to look up when Mello sat straight a couple of hours later and chucked the shirt at his face. But he did manage to catch it before it landed on his head, so that was a bonus.
“Get me some goddamn chocolate.”
“Mello, that’s going to fuck up your stomach--”
“Get me some goddamn chocolate.”
Matt barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Such a drama queen. But he ended up relenting, climbing to his feet and grappling to put his shirt back on. Luckily, Mello hadn’t asked about why he’d had it in the first place, but Matt would’ve just told him the truth anyway so it didn’t matter. He tossed his game (albeit gently) onto the desk on his way out, grabbing up his keys and leaving the apartment mostly in silence.
Yep, he still pretty much sucked hardcore when it came to saying no to Mello. Oh well.
Twenty minutes and five chocolate bars later, Matt closed the front door with his foot, key ring in his mouth and a cell phone cradled against his ear, held only by his shoulder. He was saying things like “Uh-huh” and “Yeah, sure” every few moments, but it seemed the person on the other end was doing most of the talking.
Once he made it back into the bedroom, he didn’t even blink to see Mello bent over the laptop on his desk across the room, very much naked due to being bedridden for most of the past week or two, but otherwise not at all nonplussed with this fact. Matt just got a good look at his lower back, the stark bandages wrapped around a good portion of his shoulder standing out, before turning his eyes away without a bit of shame and tossing the chocolate onto the bed. He tried to focus on what the chattery girl (was it Nicole? Or Belinda?) was saying down the line, but he couldn’t even remember what she’d been talking about from the start anyway.
“Dude, man, put some clothes on,” he said unthinkingly, cutting the girl on the phone off mid-sentence. Mello mumbled an offhand “Yeah, yeah” about the same time as ‘Nicole/Belinda’ shrieked a high-pitched ”What?!” right into his ear.
Oh, wait, actually her name was Lisa, wasn’t it?
“Hey, Lisa, we’re breaking up.” It was the first time he’d even managed to get a word in this entire time, and even then, he didn’t sound very bothered. His tone was more conversational than ‘Sorry if I broke your heart, but we just weren’t meant to be.’
Mello snorted as he grabbed up the chocolate on the bed, the wrapper of one of the bars crinkling as he dug into it, only visible cat-like eye gleaming, trained on Matt, who still stood at the entryway of the room.
More incessant shrieking in his ear, but Matt had gotten a knack at ignoring that frequency of sound. “Yeah, sorry, but -- no, I’m not cheating on you, just -- no, I never said I hated you -- well, yeah, I’m being serious here.” All spoken in that bored, I-really-couldn’t-be-bothered-with-you tone of voice. He might’ve caught a “And my name’s not Lisa!” before the poor girl hung up, but his attention was right back on Mello anyway.
“That shit’s really gonna screw up your stomach, you know,” Matt offered as he pocketed his cell, moving toward his desk to retrieve his game. The he dropped right back down on the floor where’d he’d been stationed for a majority of the past handful of days, legs bent at the knees. He could hear Mello moving behind him, climbing onto the bed, but he didn’t bother looking. A snap could be heard every time Mello bit down into his chocolate. The sound was comforting. A normalcy he’d missed, somehow.
Mello didn’t hassle replying, but it was alright.
He felt a hand in his hair after another moment, messing it all up, and furrowed his brow in bewilderment as the strap of his goggles was jostled around. “Mello?” he asked, but received no answer. Craning his neck back, Matt watched the still-naked blonde move away, standing back up. It wasn’t until he disappeared from Matt’s line of sight did he ask again, “Mello?”
“Taking a shower. Stay out.”
Breathing out a chuckle, Matt paused his game and set it down beside him without a second thought, standing up and crawling onto the bed. Stretching, Matt relaxed all the kinks in his joints, snagging a finger on the band of his goggles and tossing them carelessly onto the bedside table, nearly knocking over the lamp there. The sheets around him smelled strongly of musk and sweat, and Matt lay his head down on the pillowcase-bare pillow, closing his eyes and dozing. After so long of sleeping in a cramped, seated position on the floor (he’d given up his bed to Mello, in any case), this was like a godsend.
Matt hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until something warm settled beside him on the bed, and he turned over, facing it, drawn to the electric heat inches away. Peeking out one eye, he gazed blurrily up at the figure of Mello, hair dripping wet with water and a thin towel wrapped tight around his waist.
“G’mornin’.”
“It’s one in the afternoon, idiot,” Mello replied, but he sounded amused, even calm, when he spoke. Matt could tell he wasn’t as angry and defiant as he’d been over the past couple of days, and was pretty damn relieved about that. He’d been getting tired of having to beat Mello into exhaustion just so he’d stay in bed.
The familiar crinkle of a chocolate wrapper next occurred to Matt, who yawned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching Mello through lidded eyes. “What, you’re not gonna share?” His words were a little more coherent, but still muffled with sleep.
Mello made a noise of dismissal, leaning back against the headboard, all long limbs and sharp features. It took him a moment to realize that he’d taken off the bandages before getting into the shower, and Matt turned his head at an angle, following the line of charred skin with sudden interest. It wasn’t until Mello shifted, turning onto his bad side and wincing, did Matt figure out something was up.
“What? C’mon, don’t be so hissy,” he prodded, sliding his arm around Mello’s waist, feeling the muscle stiffen up beneath his touch even as Matt made sure not to get anywhere close to the burns, tucking his chin on Mello’s shoulder. “You’re the one who invaded my bed, ‘member?”
Still, Mello said nothing; the snap of chocolate was an audible answer enough by itself. Something along the lines of “fuck off.”
Matt hummed, enjoying the warmth Mello’s body gave off in lieu of chasing a one-sided argument; though he all too aware of the way Mello remained tense beside him, he didn’t comment on that either. The answer was quite obvious, now he gave it thought: this turn of events was a failure to him, and the evidence was right there out in the open, splattered across his skin.
They stayed like that, and gradually Mello relaxed, eventually nudging Matt a few inches over so that he could roll back off his bad side. The chocolate bar was pushed against his mouth once more and he took a few noisy bites, not bothering to swat Matt away when he scooted closer. “Still not gonna share?” Matt muttered, voice stifled where he still had his chin tucked against Mello’s shoulder.
Not deigning a response, Matt was content to simply stay where they were for a moment longer, until he was jostled back to attention and forced to open his eyes to assess the situation. Mello had turned completely to face him, and took another vicious bite of chocolate before shoving their lips together with almost jarring force, sliding his tongue into Matt’s mouth, and only after another moment did he taste the memorable sweetness of chocolate. Mello passed a bitten-off chunk, slick with his own saliva, into the contours of the other’s mouth and then backed off, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
Matt could do nothing but swallow and look mildly disturbed.
“You wanted some,” Mello said in an obnoxiously offhand manner, moving away so he could get out of the bed properly; that towel didn’t seem like it was doing much to hang on, but for the one finger Mello had holding it up. Not like that gave it justice or anything. Matt rolled his eyes where the other couldn’t see him, folding his arms behind his head and trying to ignore the flush of heat Mello’s momentary closeness had given him, or the way the chocolate was still tangible on his tongue.
“Yeah, sure, but I don’t recall asking for mouth-to-mouth service, asshole,” he grumbled, words sharp if only to cover up his sudden discomfort below the belt. “Fuckin’ nasty.”
Mello just snickered, snapping off another bite of chocolate.
Well, at least he wasn’t punching Matt in the face. He could take this.
It seemed Mello was struggling into the pair of leather pants that, luckily, hadn’t been singed in the fire, but Matt just watched through narrowed eyes, wanting nothing more than to fetch his goggles but unwilling to even get up at this point. Mello was back on the laptop seconds later, the one he’d first been tending to when Matt had gotten back, fingers clicking away at the keyboard with eyes intently focused on the screen. Funny how he could just jump to work, like that. Hell, if Matt had blown himself up, he’d have taken a few months vacation. Screw work.
Though it appeared that Mello was handling the situation better than he’d first thought he would; none of his furniture had yet to be broken into pieces, but that was depending on when the next time Mello got pissed off was. Which, he was fairly certain of, wouldn’t be too long. Give it a couple days.
“Hey…”
Matt’s head jerked up, surprised at the sound of Mello’s voice in such a quiet tone. “Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Blinking in confusion, Matt stared straight ahead at the silhouette of his still towel-wrapped friend in the dark of the room, outlined by the sickly light of the computer. He probably should’ve pulled back the curtains, but he liked it dark, and didn’t think Mello would’ve appreciated being waken up at ten AM. Just a thought.
“Uh…”
The silence was thick with tension, and for a second he thought he wasn’t even going to reply to Mello at all, until a shaky, “Uh, yeah, it was nothin’,” left his lips and it was fine.
More than fine, even. Fucking beautiful, to have Mello back in his life, taking him down roads he couldn’t even see, taking him down with the flurry of fames that brought him here at the start. Mello was marred and skewed in more than one way, but to get to this point meant so much more than any of that, so what did it matter? As long as Matt was here to back him, it shouldn’t have to matter.
“I’m gonna go have a cigarette,” he blurted abruptly, pulling himself up and off the bed. Mello just grunted in acknowledgement, seemingly absorbed in whatever it was he was doing, which likely involved cracking through all the security shit Matt had put up on his computer, including hacking all the passwords so he could weed his way in and establish his own firm standing. Kind of like what he was doing now.
The smoke curled into the air when Matt breathed out, eyes narrowed into slits to avoid the glare of the sun, wondering why the fuck he’d been in such a hurry to get out of the room that he’d forgotten to grab his goggles. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But after a few minutes, he calmed, snuffing out the cigarette he’d just finished and lighting up another one, watching the scenery before him with an unfocused expression. He leaned back against a familiar concrete wall, letting the cold seep through the thin material of his shirt, and thought, briefly, about what he’d been doing right now if a certain someone hadn’t taken up residence in his apartment.
Smoking, probably, just like now. Really, while nothing had changed on the surface everything else underneath had been all around fucked up, and Matt wasn’t sure if that was bad or not yet. Best just to deal and go -- it was all he had left to do, now.
Well, he thought. He could definitely take this.
Title: Situational
Fandom: Death Note
Character/Pairing: Mello
Category: Character
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language and minor sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Death Note © Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi
Summary: Where all that’s left to do is take it like it is. Vague Matt/Mello.
Now that he was here, Matt honestly had no idea what to do. Mello was a mess, writhing and pulling the sheets straight from the mattress, curling in on himself before throwing his arms and legs out and just clawing. Like an angry cat, hissing and spitting out words Matt was sure his friend didn’t even realize he was saying.
Sometimes Mello ranted about Kira -- the damned bastard had gotten his name, had beaten him. Failure -- he’d failed. Sometimes he ranted about himself, his idiocy -- how could I be so stupid? he’d say. But most of the time, most of the time he ranted about Near, somewhere between a state of delusion and unconsciousness, body hot with fever.
“I need to--”
“He’s going to get ahead--”
“Fuck, let me go, I need to--”
But Matt wasn’t going to let him go anywhere, not like this. A lot of the time he was forced to wrestle Mello down, use the ten-plus pounds he likely had on Mello’s frail body to pin him to the mattress so he’d stop clawing, telling him to calm the fuck down. It really burned him up inside to see his strong, unrelenting, childhood friend like this, but in a way, Matt was just glad Mello had decided to allow him back into his life, as much of a danger zone that was in itself.
Yeah, Matt knew he’d probably end up dead, but he had all the opportunity in the world to walk right out if he wanted, right this very moment, and leave Mello here. But he didn’t. Matt would never do that, no matter what lengths Mello expected him to go in order for his batshit insane plans to carry through.
Several days passed with little progress on Mello’s part; between tending to his scarred body and keeping him drugged to the pain likely snapping through him with every twitch of muscle, Matt didn’t have much to do. Sometimes he sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, legs kicked out and a game cradled in his hands, smashing away at the buttons. The volume was clicked off even though he doubted it would rouse Mello from his fevered state; but wasn’t it the thought that counted, anyway?
A few times during said moments, Matt thought he heard Mello mumble something under his breath, but it was always soft enough that he could never quite catch it. That or he was only imagining it; he’d gotten noticeably jumpy since taking watch over Mello injured body. Where simple things like the UPS dropping off a new game he’d ordered online, ringing the doorbell and causing him to nearly topple over, to the sound of his neighbors arguing within the apartment next door, unfortunately adjoined by one wall of his bedroom -- Matt couldn’t let anything go by unchecked. It freaked him out. He didn’t know much of what had happened to Mello, besides the obvious damage that lay on his bed right now; he hardly watched the news. But Matt wasn’t able to force away the underlying trepidation that what if whatever it was showed up? It had to do with Kira -- Matt knew that much by the things Mello said in his unconscious condition.
He was edgy, and no matter how many cigarette packs he chain-smoked his way through, Matt couldn’t fight it off. For being such a laid-back guy, this whole situation had taken its toll on him, and heavily at that.
By mid into the second week, Mello was awake and all too anxious to get up, often cursing Matt and his mum into an early grave whenever he held him down by his right shoulder (as if he even got close to the other one, Mello would hiss out in pain) and threatened to tie him up if he didn’t stop struggling. Eventually it took more painkillers and some really -- admittedly -- harsh threats to get Mello to control himself, but by then Matt was about to pass out himself. He went to move away from the position he was in, one hand on Mello’s uninjured shoulder and the other planted on the mattress to hold himself up, when something impeded the movement.
Mello had both hands fisted in the front of his shirt, and as he bent to look closer, it seemed he wasn’t even awake. But when Matt attempted to yank away, Mello’s grip tightened. A no-go. “Damnit Mello, I can’t stand by your bed all day; you’re not a sniffling little girl, lemme go,” he grumbled more for his own credit as he didn’t expect the other to hear him. And like he’d figured, it didn’t work.
Eventually, Matt managed to wrestle himself out of the shirt he was wearing just so he could escape; you’d think an unconscious, dangerously underweight person wouldn’t be able to hold on that tightly! Not to mention Matt was just generally much more able than Mello, and yet he’d still had to resort to this. Now shirtless, he went ahead and let Mello keep the article of clothing, slumping into a sulk back on the floor.
Sullen as he was, he didn’t bother to look up when Mello sat straight a couple of hours later and chucked the shirt at his face. But he did manage to catch it before it landed on his head, so that was a bonus.
“Get me some goddamn chocolate.”
“Mello, that’s going to fuck up your stomach--”
“Get me some goddamn chocolate.”
Matt barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Such a drama queen. But he ended up relenting, climbing to his feet and grappling to put his shirt back on. Luckily, Mello hadn’t asked about why he’d had it in the first place, but Matt would’ve just told him the truth anyway so it didn’t matter. He tossed his game (albeit gently) onto the desk on his way out, grabbing up his keys and leaving the apartment mostly in silence.
Yep, he still pretty much sucked hardcore when it came to saying no to Mello. Oh well.
Twenty minutes and five chocolate bars later, Matt closed the front door with his foot, key ring in his mouth and a cell phone cradled against his ear, held only by his shoulder. He was saying things like “Uh-huh” and “Yeah, sure” every few moments, but it seemed the person on the other end was doing most of the talking.
Once he made it back into the bedroom, he didn’t even blink to see Mello bent over the laptop on his desk across the room, very much naked due to being bedridden for most of the past week or two, but otherwise not at all nonplussed with this fact. Matt just got a good look at his lower back, the stark bandages wrapped around a good portion of his shoulder standing out, before turning his eyes away without a bit of shame and tossing the chocolate onto the bed. He tried to focus on what the chattery girl (was it Nicole? Or Belinda?) was saying down the line, but he couldn’t even remember what she’d been talking about from the start anyway.
“Dude, man, put some clothes on,” he said unthinkingly, cutting the girl on the phone off mid-sentence. Mello mumbled an offhand “Yeah, yeah” about the same time as ‘Nicole/Belinda’ shrieked a high-pitched ”What?!” right into his ear.
Oh, wait, actually her name was Lisa, wasn’t it?
“Hey, Lisa, we’re breaking up.” It was the first time he’d even managed to get a word in this entire time, and even then, he didn’t sound very bothered. His tone was more conversational than ‘Sorry if I broke your heart, but we just weren’t meant to be.’
Mello snorted as he grabbed up the chocolate on the bed, the wrapper of one of the bars crinkling as he dug into it, only visible cat-like eye gleaming, trained on Matt, who still stood at the entryway of the room.
More incessant shrieking in his ear, but Matt had gotten a knack at ignoring that frequency of sound. “Yeah, sorry, but -- no, I’m not cheating on you, just -- no, I never said I hated you -- well, yeah, I’m being serious here.” All spoken in that bored, I-really-couldn’t-be-bothered-with-you tone of voice. He might’ve caught a “And my name’s not Lisa!” before the poor girl hung up, but his attention was right back on Mello anyway.
“That shit’s really gonna screw up your stomach, you know,” Matt offered as he pocketed his cell, moving toward his desk to retrieve his game. The he dropped right back down on the floor where’d he’d been stationed for a majority of the past handful of days, legs bent at the knees. He could hear Mello moving behind him, climbing onto the bed, but he didn’t bother looking. A snap could be heard every time Mello bit down into his chocolate. The sound was comforting. A normalcy he’d missed, somehow.
Mello didn’t hassle replying, but it was alright.
He felt a hand in his hair after another moment, messing it all up, and furrowed his brow in bewilderment as the strap of his goggles was jostled around. “Mello?” he asked, but received no answer. Craning his neck back, Matt watched the still-naked blonde move away, standing back up. It wasn’t until he disappeared from Matt’s line of sight did he ask again, “Mello?”
“Taking a shower. Stay out.”
Breathing out a chuckle, Matt paused his game and set it down beside him without a second thought, standing up and crawling onto the bed. Stretching, Matt relaxed all the kinks in his joints, snagging a finger on the band of his goggles and tossing them carelessly onto the bedside table, nearly knocking over the lamp there. The sheets around him smelled strongly of musk and sweat, and Matt lay his head down on the pillowcase-bare pillow, closing his eyes and dozing. After so long of sleeping in a cramped, seated position on the floor (he’d given up his bed to Mello, in any case), this was like a godsend.
Matt hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until something warm settled beside him on the bed, and he turned over, facing it, drawn to the electric heat inches away. Peeking out one eye, he gazed blurrily up at the figure of Mello, hair dripping wet with water and a thin towel wrapped tight around his waist.
“G’mornin’.”
“It’s one in the afternoon, idiot,” Mello replied, but he sounded amused, even calm, when he spoke. Matt could tell he wasn’t as angry and defiant as he’d been over the past couple of days, and was pretty damn relieved about that. He’d been getting tired of having to beat Mello into exhaustion just so he’d stay in bed.
The familiar crinkle of a chocolate wrapper next occurred to Matt, who yawned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching Mello through lidded eyes. “What, you’re not gonna share?” His words were a little more coherent, but still muffled with sleep.
Mello made a noise of dismissal, leaning back against the headboard, all long limbs and sharp features. It took him a moment to realize that he’d taken off the bandages before getting into the shower, and Matt turned his head at an angle, following the line of charred skin with sudden interest. It wasn’t until Mello shifted, turning onto his bad side and wincing, did Matt figure out something was up.
“What? C’mon, don’t be so hissy,” he prodded, sliding his arm around Mello’s waist, feeling the muscle stiffen up beneath his touch even as Matt made sure not to get anywhere close to the burns, tucking his chin on Mello’s shoulder. “You’re the one who invaded my bed, ‘member?”
Still, Mello said nothing; the snap of chocolate was an audible answer enough by itself. Something along the lines of “fuck off.”
Matt hummed, enjoying the warmth Mello’s body gave off in lieu of chasing a one-sided argument; though he all too aware of the way Mello remained tense beside him, he didn’t comment on that either. The answer was quite obvious, now he gave it thought: this turn of events was a failure to him, and the evidence was right there out in the open, splattered across his skin.
They stayed like that, and gradually Mello relaxed, eventually nudging Matt a few inches over so that he could roll back off his bad side. The chocolate bar was pushed against his mouth once more and he took a few noisy bites, not bothering to swat Matt away when he scooted closer. “Still not gonna share?” Matt muttered, voice stifled where he still had his chin tucked against Mello’s shoulder.
Not deigning a response, Matt was content to simply stay where they were for a moment longer, until he was jostled back to attention and forced to open his eyes to assess the situation. Mello had turned completely to face him, and took another vicious bite of chocolate before shoving their lips together with almost jarring force, sliding his tongue into Matt’s mouth, and only after another moment did he taste the memorable sweetness of chocolate. Mello passed a bitten-off chunk, slick with his own saliva, into the contours of the other’s mouth and then backed off, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
Matt could do nothing but swallow and look mildly disturbed.
“You wanted some,” Mello said in an obnoxiously offhand manner, moving away so he could get out of the bed properly; that towel didn’t seem like it was doing much to hang on, but for the one finger Mello had holding it up. Not like that gave it justice or anything. Matt rolled his eyes where the other couldn’t see him, folding his arms behind his head and trying to ignore the flush of heat Mello’s momentary closeness had given him, or the way the chocolate was still tangible on his tongue.
“Yeah, sure, but I don’t recall asking for mouth-to-mouth service, asshole,” he grumbled, words sharp if only to cover up his sudden discomfort below the belt. “Fuckin’ nasty.”
Mello just snickered, snapping off another bite of chocolate.
Well, at least he wasn’t punching Matt in the face. He could take this.
It seemed Mello was struggling into the pair of leather pants that, luckily, hadn’t been singed in the fire, but Matt just watched through narrowed eyes, wanting nothing more than to fetch his goggles but unwilling to even get up at this point. Mello was back on the laptop seconds later, the one he’d first been tending to when Matt had gotten back, fingers clicking away at the keyboard with eyes intently focused on the screen. Funny how he could just jump to work, like that. Hell, if Matt had blown himself up, he’d have taken a few months vacation. Screw work.
Though it appeared that Mello was handling the situation better than he’d first thought he would; none of his furniture had yet to be broken into pieces, but that was depending on when the next time Mello got pissed off was. Which, he was fairly certain of, wouldn’t be too long. Give it a couple days.
“Hey…”
Matt’s head jerked up, surprised at the sound of Mello’s voice in such a quiet tone. “Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Blinking in confusion, Matt stared straight ahead at the silhouette of his still towel-wrapped friend in the dark of the room, outlined by the sickly light of the computer. He probably should’ve pulled back the curtains, but he liked it dark, and didn’t think Mello would’ve appreciated being waken up at ten AM. Just a thought.
“Uh…”
The silence was thick with tension, and for a second he thought he wasn’t even going to reply to Mello at all, until a shaky, “Uh, yeah, it was nothin’,” left his lips and it was fine.
More than fine, even. Fucking beautiful, to have Mello back in his life, taking him down roads he couldn’t even see, taking him down with the flurry of fames that brought him here at the start. Mello was marred and skewed in more than one way, but to get to this point meant so much more than any of that, so what did it matter? As long as Matt was here to back him, it shouldn’t have to matter.
“I’m gonna go have a cigarette,” he blurted abruptly, pulling himself up and off the bed. Mello just grunted in acknowledgement, seemingly absorbed in whatever it was he was doing, which likely involved cracking through all the security shit Matt had put up on his computer, including hacking all the passwords so he could weed his way in and establish his own firm standing. Kind of like what he was doing now.
The smoke curled into the air when Matt breathed out, eyes narrowed into slits to avoid the glare of the sun, wondering why the fuck he’d been in such a hurry to get out of the room that he’d forgotten to grab his goggles. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But after a few minutes, he calmed, snuffing out the cigarette he’d just finished and lighting up another one, watching the scenery before him with an unfocused expression. He leaned back against a familiar concrete wall, letting the cold seep through the thin material of his shirt, and thought, briefly, about what he’d been doing right now if a certain someone hadn’t taken up residence in his apartment.
Smoking, probably, just like now. Really, while nothing had changed on the surface everything else underneath had been all around fucked up, and Matt wasn’t sure if that was bad or not yet. Best just to deal and go -- it was all he had left to do, now.
Well, he thought. He could definitely take this.