It Matters

"Lean back."



Mello sat on the edge of the bath, his feet and shins submerged in the water with Matt. He'd finally succeeded in removing the last clots of blood from that thick red hair, thus concluding that Matt hadn't washed it properly in a week. He might have got his head wet, but there had definitely been no shampoo used. The bump at the back of his head was starting to go down though. Mello still placed Matt's head carefully onto his lap to ensure no further damage.



Languidly, he just drew his hand back and forth in the water beside Matt's right shoulder, the other hand resting on his own knee. Warm, bloodied water lapped tidally across Matt's torso. Mello had already washed him, trying not to think that the tenderness was partially guilt at having caused the concussion in the first place. Trying not to consider tenderness to be a kind of defeat. Head bent over his gorgeous friend's face, it seemed like a private world. Peace. Tranquility. Matt was already dozing.



Long minutes passed before Matt's eyes opened lazily and peered dreamily up at him. Mello smiled, "It's ok." They closed again.



Half an hour dripped by, infinitely slowly, but still too fast for Mello. He doubted that he'd ever been this patient and immobile in his life, but it did feel like a pause in the Armageddon of their existence. Like something Heaven-sent, undeserved by sinners like him and Matt, but given freely anyway. But by the half an hour mark, he was thinking about the Afterlife. He would be going straight to Hell, without a doubt, but what about Matt? Mello thought he might stand Hell if Matt was there too. Where did non-believers go? It certainly wouldn't be Heaven and the water was getting cold. Mello rubbed Matt's arm to wake him, kissed his forehead and sat up straight to ease the crick in his own neck.



"Time to get out."



Obedient and cleansed, Matt stood in one fluid movement, pinkish water falling from him in hundreds of short, tiny waterfalls. Mello was face to face with his arse and didn't think that was a bad thing at all. He reached out, encircled his waist and kissed the small of Matt's back.



"Turn around." Mello eyed the presented gentials with a faint smile. "I could have you here and now."



"No arguments here."



"No, too many hard surfaces."



"That's usually the bonus." Matt rubbed a hand over his chin, where Mello had shaved him at the start of this. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"



"Lust." With a burst of energy, Mello stood and stepped out of the bath. He took towels from the radiator and threw them across to the redhead. "Going to change the bedclothes."



"Hrumph..." Matt padded after him, towelling himself dry. "By the way, who are you and what have you done with Mello?"



"It has occurred to me that whipping your pretty little arse won't risk further damage to your head."



"Ah! There you are." Matt winked at him, lighting up a cigarette. "Just getting something to drink." He disappeared into the front room and then paused. "Oh." He stepped back to where Mello had frozen in the act of laying a clean bedspread. "You got really mad."



"Fucking great powers of deduction there." Mello snapped, slapping at the valance to iron out the creases. But then he sighed. "I wanted to hurt you. I'll buy you another game station."



Matt nodded and walked up behind him, brushing the hair from Mello's neck and kissing the uncovered skin.

"I'm sorry."



Mello leaned backwards to be engulfed in Matt's arms.

"I'm sorry too. That out there, concussion, screaming at you all the Goddamned time." A little shiver. "I mess with your head all the time as well. You get off on me being dangerous, so I'm dangerous for you..." He floundered.



"Bullshit for the win?"



"No, just came out wrong." Mello shrugged. "I didn't kill the bloke at the club. The one who put his arm around me. Someone else killed him, I only saw the body."



"I know." Matt blew into Mello's ear and nibbled on the cartiledge at the top. "You wouldn't just kill someone for that."



"Don't tempt me, Matt." Mello glared fiercely at the window, but relaxed into the embrace. "I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. Killed people just because they were in the way. But not as many as you probably think I have." He reached up and behind him, holding the back of Matt's head, as kisses covered his scars. "Not just since we got back together. I did it when we were kids too."



"Killed people?"



"Messed with your head. More your chances then, but it backfired." A half-laugh. "Computer project once, I was convinced that you were going to beat me and I couldn't stand it, so I swopped the names on our files. Your work went in with my name on it and vice versa. But it turned out that mine was best anyway, because you came top of the class."



"Oh really?" Matt bent to kiss the mottled skin on Mello's collarbone. "I think I remember the project."



"What came first? My bloody sadism or your masochism?" Mello frowned. "Did I make you this way? I can't remember."



"Probably." Matt's hands wandered over Mello's chest. "Maybe you prayed really hard one day and the Virgin Mary said, 'I know, let's give him someone who'll really get off on the fact that he's a tempermental headcase and see if it that sorts him out.'"



"You can't put your fingers down my trousers and then remind me that I'm a Catholic, for fuck's sake." Mello made to wriggle out of his hold. "The only time I regret me and you is when I get Catholic angst."



"You get Catholic angst?" Matt held him more tightly. "Is it less a problem if I do this...?" He squeezed his hand further down.



"No, that's worse. Let's stop talking about Catholic angst. Weren't you going to get a drink of water?" Mello stroked Matt's arm. "Ouch, that's hurting me."



Matt snorted,

"That is not hurting you. You swop places with me one day and I'll show you what hurting you is."



"Dream on, Matty." He squirmed, smiling. "No, really, my trousers are way too tight to have me and your hand in them. Out."



"How about if I remove the trousers instead?" Matt stopped short in surprise. "You're blushing."



"I'm not." Mello kissed his cheek. "No really, it's hurting."



"No really..." Matt mimicked. "So you want me to stop?" He had the belt open now, easing the pressure on them both. His fingers undid the topmost laces and his kisses continued back down Mello's scarred neck. He got his answer as the blond leaned back, causing Matt to shift slightly in order to support them both. "You're fucking beautiful, Mello, you really are." His thumbs hooked over the waistband and pulled the leather down. "And you're still blushing."



"Roger said you're introverted around me."



Matt sniggered,

"So you want to think about Roger right now, at this very moment in time. Roger?" His whole hand could slide around the length of Mello's shaft now, so it did, rhythmically.



"Matt, shut up."