BY : Scriptedfrenzy
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 847
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Author's Note:
I was supposed to write this directly after having watched episode 35, but I never got around to it, although the whole story was sitting in my head for months.

Once I finally finished it, I posted it on LJ, but I figured I'd share it on here as well.

Oh, and I don't think Takada screamed in the anime/manga, but let's pretend she did. K?

As the description says; This is my tribute to Matt and Mello.


The woman in the back of the trailer is screaming.
The enormous vehicle roars as it's speeding down the road, towards an old abandoned farm.
They're outside of Tokyo now.
The hustle and bustle of the city cannot be heard.
If he rolled down the window, the only sound that would fill his ears, would be that of the trailer's engine and it's wheels on the moist asphalt.
But Mello can't hear it.
Just as he can't hear the woman screaming in the back.
They've passed the farm, the road now leading towards the ruins of an old church.

On the dashboard, there is a small tv.
It is this device that is to blame for Mello's current state.
Or rather, what is being shown on it.

The screen shows the car, standing in the middle of the road. Police all around.
There's a man in the street.
He's hardly even a man...
The cigarette has fallen from his lip. There's a round hole, a burn in his jacket, easily visible for trained eyes, when the camera zooms in.
Blood flows steadily from the gunshot wounds, it mixes with the rain that flows on the pavement.
A sickening crimson dyes the water as it makes it's way, completely unaffected, towards the nearest drain.

The announcer speaks.
Mello's eyes turn to the screen again, his hands still firmly gripping the steering wheel.
There's bullet holes piercing through the car as well.
"Matt...I got you killed...I'm sorry..."

As he thinks those words, hearing his own voice utter them in his mind, Mello starts to remember.
He remembers involuntarily; first images from childhood, pointless images. He sees himself, looking pretty much the way he does now, only in a sweater that is too big for him, rather than skin-tight, and the scar on his face is missing. He is hunched in the couch, chocolate bar firmly in his hand. Matt is on the floor, gripping tightly on a control pad. His eyes glued to the tv screen.

The scene changes; he remembers Matt leaving.
A year younger than himself, and still he leaves.
"It won't be me anyway, right?"
Those were his words.
The feeling of deceit.
Knowingly, a younger Mello watches him walk through the gates of Wammy's house, he is a child, but leaves as an adult, a young, but not mature man. Mello knows that perhaps he will never see him again.
Matt has been third for a long time. He is not important.
Not to L, not to Wammy. Not anymore.
And he shouldn't be important to Mello either.
So the boy makes up his mind then and there, that he will forget the things Matt helped him discover. He will focus on becoming number one.

The next scene, where Mello finds himself to be on his own, the things he has made himself forget, springs to mind again, as Matt stands before him.
It is not important who found who.
Matt says nothing, and lets him in.

He sees Matt before him, promising to be loyal to him. He listens to his every word about how Near is overrated, and how he should have been the next L.
It is selfish. Because Matt had as much right as any of them, and he was discarded, just like that. But Matt is not complaining. He sits by Mello's side.
He is staring down, at the PSP in his hands, through those goggles he has always had, but he is still listening.
Mello rambles, and Matt lets him.

"I must do this by myself..." he says out loud, his dark eyes following the road.
He glances briefly at himself in the rear-view mirror, and can see through the lie in his own eyes. He can see the grief that wants to be unleashed, but he won't let it.
Emotion makes you weak. He can't be weak at this point.
For the longest time, Mello has made that mistake; letting his anger, his rage, decide things for him. And where did that get him?
Here. That's where.
He looks at the screen. Makes his decision.
This is why he never allowed emotion to grip him when Matt was around.
Just as Matt went out with a smile - and Mello knows he did, he will not show any sign that he is affected by it as he goes on alone.

The scenarios continue to change in his head.
He recognizes the next one.
He is naked, and laying tightly pressed against Matt, on his tattered couch.
This moment is loaded with tension.
Matt has just spoken, whispered against Mello's sweat slicked skin, and Mello does not like what he's been told.
He is quiet, because he is not sure what to make of it, or how to respond. But he knows that he will not let emotion have it's way with him.
He speaks; "You're a dog Matt. You are foolish. I say sit, and you sit. I provide you with what you need, and in return you are loyal to me. You are confusing it with the thing that you like to call love. There is no such thing in this cruel and cynical world. Not anymore. Not since Kira came along." he pauses.
Matt's gaze is still holding his.
"There is trust, and distrust." Mello finishes.
Matt still says nothing, but presses sticky lips to Mello's shoulder.
Mello lets him, but makes sure he utters a clear; "Tch."

For years, Matt has been by his side.
And at his own request, Mello has let him, but held back on anything other than what can be clearly defined.
Lust, for example.
They both take a hold of you, and you'll let them. They rage in your body, but if you satisfy them, they leave you alone.
Emotion is unpredictable and thus not safe.

That is what Mello has taught himself. And that is what he makes Matt understand.
Matt serves him quietly, obediently.

That is why, even as he pins Mello down.
Even when he is forcing his way into him, and pain shoots through Mello's skeletal body.
Or when pain subsides, and sweet, but wretched pleasure takes over....
Matt is still the submissive bitch.
He can fuck Mello as hard and careless as he wants.
He can be sadistic and cruel, harsh and demanding.
But if Mello orders him to stop, he'll stop.
If Mello orders him, despite thinking he might tear this time, despite knowing he cannot handle anymore, Matt will take him harder.

One time, Matt has disobeyed.
And Mello sees it now, clearer than he sees the church that is coming closer.

Matt is wearing the same dirty sweater as always. He is putting on his vest over it.
Mello watches.
"I have use for you. I'll make someone else do it."
"I know what you want," Matt says calmly. "I know you better than anyone."
"Matt, I forbid it." Mello says. His voice is hard. "If you get yourself killed there will be no one to do your job."
"You will." Matt says, because he knows that Mello has watched him. He knows that Mello is just as skilled with computers as himself. At least now, after so many years.
He takes the keys to the car.
"I know you better than anyone. I can do this better than anyone."
Mello doesn't say anything. He is staring at him.
"I will do as you said." Matt goes on. "I drive in, impair their vision, and get out. They follow me. You grab Takada." he turns to leave.
"Don't you dare screw up." Mello orders.
Matt smiles.
Without Mello realizing, he turns around again, and presses his lips to Mello's.
The kiss is hard.
Just as Mello wants it to be.
Hard, possessive, demanding, forced.
"I'm a dog, Mello." he says, his voice raw against Mello's chapped lips. "I can't disobey my masters wish."
And then he turns for real. He leaves for real.
And it is the last time they see each other. But Mello doesn't know.

And then, it is there again.
He sees it again.
Before his inner eye, he can see himself and Matt, bodies tightly pressed against each other.
Over and over he sees it; himself with his legs wrapped around Matt's waist, him bent against the table, the kitchen counter, the nightstand, with Matt taking him hard from behind.
He sees himself moaning against Matt's soft lips.
He sees Matt sitting in the old chair, himself sitting over him, lowering himself onto his hardness.
He can see Matt's pleasure as he pounds into him.

Mello doesn't even know what he's remembering anymore.
It's all just a never-ending reel of him and Matt and raw, non-conceited sin.

And as he sees it, he can feel it.
His heart is beating faster in his chest.
Matt moans against his ear.
He grows hot.
His palms are sweaty inside the leather gloves he's wearing, and he grips the steering wheel tighter, trying to focus on the road.
His heart is pounding.
He can see himself, legs spread with Matt on top.
He can almost feel him inside.
Mello's heart aches.
The next scenario shows them both smeared with chocolate, the bed they are on is worn out, squeaky and rutty, but the sheets are new, and the shining white is now full of chocolate; a handprint here and there clearly showing.
Matt goes deep and Mello bites him, hard.
His heart pounds.
He's so close.
He knows. He remembers exactly how it felt that exact time. With Matt on that bed.
He remembers how the chocolate stuck to their skin, how they tasted every inch of each other that day. How it never ended.
He breathes raggedly, both in his memory and for real.
And for a moment he wonders if he is actually remembering it so strongly he can feel it for real.

But Mello snaps out of it.
Just as Matt dives into him in a memory that has long since passed.
Because his heart is racing unnaturally fast. It hurts.
It doesn't ache like it should. It hurts.
One leather clad hand grips his chest through the fabric of his top.
He gasps.

This is it, he knows it. It's over.
He failed.

He sees Matt's face, pleasure written all over it.
He sees himself, so close. So close.

He was close.
He could've made it.
He could've been number one.

But that doesn't matter anymore.
Because Mello has no one to share it with.
"Yes," he says, voice strained with pain. "It's for the best...."

Another sting shoots through him.
In his head, the same violent shake goes through him, but has him calling out Matt's name instead of a pained groan.
He loses control of the vehicle.

Another insane sting of pain.
He groans, clenches his eyes shut.

He can see Matt smiling.
His lips are moving. His voice is soft.
'I know you better than anyone...'
"Matt. I got you....Killed...."

Gasping for breath, Mello has to give in. A wheeze escapes his throat as the trailer manages to come to a stop in the church. It doesn't crash violently, nor does it stop carefully.
Mello is thrown forward, and as he hits the steeringwheel, he knows he will no longer be able to get up.
His hand balls up into a fist.
His breath is wheezing, heavy and strained. It hurts.
He can't breathe...
He can't see.
But he sees Matt.
He wants to reach out, but can't.
He failed.
His eyes close. It grows dark.

Mello takes one last breath.
When he with great effort breathes out, the air carries one word;

Mihael Keehl is dead.

Please review ^__^

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