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Annals of Fear II	By : DeathNoteFangirl Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > Mello/Matt Views: 5803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note and I do not make any money from these writings

Chapter List
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Matt lay on his stomach on their bed, his attention firmly fixed on the PSP in his hands. Mello was on his side, propped up by an elbow, as he faced his husband. One of Mello's hands traced its fingers up and down Matt's spine, resting occasionally on the small of his back. Mello was calm now, making his points in a steady, intimate tone.

"If they try to take you from me, I will bust you out and that will be the end of it. All ties between myself and Watari broken for good." Mello's hand was under Matt's shirt now, trailing absently across his right kidney. It was his bare hand, skin against skin. "Even if we get away with it this time, this can't go on happening. You threatening to blow up Near's headquarters; you threatening to blow up Wammy's House; you threatening to blow up Fenian and his lady. Can you see how this looks from the point of view of the others?" Mello waited. Matt's gaze flickered sideways once, then back onto his game. "Yes, I know. Fuck 'em. But Near is L. If he decides that you really are dangerous, then he can command troops to drag you away. It would be in the slammer with Neuron and there's the key," Mello removed his hand from under Matt's shirt and simulated throwing the key over his shoulder, "thrown away."

"He can try."

Mello placed his hand between Matt's shoulder blades and resumed stroking lightly down his spine. "Yes, he can." Mello flashed a smile. "And I would raise holy Hell stopping him, but that's a lot of hassle, don't you think? Someone could end up killed in the process. Like me." Mello maintained a faint smile, as Matt looked fully at him. He leaned in to kiss the redhead full on his swollen lips. "If I'm honest, I think you are a little bit insane, Mail."

Matt stared fixedly at him. "Like you're not?"

Mello nodded. "Granted, but I have more awareness of the world around me. You're like this absent-minded professor sometimes, so single-minded..."

"Me, single-minded?" Despite the bruising, Matt's expression conveyed very eloquently who he thought the single-minded person was on that bed.

"I admit to being focused. But I never lose sight of my surroundings. You see a target and you go for it, in the quickest, most direct route, like a bull in a china shop. I will plan out the best route and work towards it, even if it takes years." Mello's gaze dared Matt to contradict him. "Baby, was it punishment?"

Matt blinked, "Punishment?"

Mello's hand glided gently over Matt's backside; his eyes took in the bruising on Matt's face. "I hurt you badly, so you blew a situation well out of my control and made me look an idiot in front of everybody."

"What?" Matt really was staring now. "No."

"Then you saw Kiana protecting her man. You haven't really been exposed to many couples, so it occurred to you that you should have been doing things like that for me. You made up for lost time in a spectacularly over-dramatic way." Mello watched him carefully, but there was nothing. No word, no nod, no gesture, no change in Matt's expression. "Or did it just seem like a good idea at the time?"

Matt gave the slightest shrug, then returned his attention to his game. "It got results."

"More than you bargained for." Mello reminded him. "Because now you have me on your back."

"I thought you'd freak over the hair."

Mello cast him a withering look, "Like I freaked over the shinigami, the Death Note, the music, the ghosts and the Gwrach-y-Rhibyn?"

"But this was witchcraft. I thought you'd go Catholic over it."

Mello surveyed him for the longest time. "I love you, Mail, but I don't know what to do with you anymore." His hand remained static over Matt's ribcage, as if trying to feel his heartbeat through his back. He continued talking in a very matter-of-fact tone. "You're right. I can't beat you. That's not how it should work between us. Not on operations. That's how it would have worked with my old associates. Liabilities were never tolerated for long then." Mello smiled, as Matt's whole body stiffened. "I can't talk you around; I can't tell you what to do. Which makes it patently obvious that I'm no longer your Master. You might act the submissive, little sex slave, but that's never been as far from the truth as it is now."

"Mello."

"I half understand now why I once tied you to a bed and left you shackled. That was wrong. That was obviously wrong. But it is understandable. I could at least stop you doing things like this." Mello leaned forward and kissed Matt's shoulder. "You're a masochist and a genius, there's very little I can actually do to stop you, once you've got your stubborn mind set upon a course of action. The only reason we've kept up the pretence thus far, is because you're fundamentally an insular bastard. You go with the flow and rarely deviate along your own path. With, of course, your balls telling you how lovely it is to fantasise that Mello is in control."

"Mello."

"I could get through to you, Mail. I know your weaknesses." Mello smiled, his fingers sliding along Matt's collar. "But I'm not that cruel."

"I'm sorry that I made you feel like this." Matt whispered. He dropped the PSP onto the pillow and looked at his husband, but then appeared at a loss to know what to do. "I've really upset you this time." He met the cool, blue gaze head on. "What do you want me to do?"

Mello shifted position, indicating that Matt should move across to be held. He waited until Matt's body was against his, mostly on top, so that no weight was placed on his bruised rear and thighs; then Mello wrapped both arms and one leg around him. They kissed, tenderly, gently, so as not to hurt Matt's lips any more. Then Mello pulled Matt's goggles off and dropped them onto the bed beside them, as he met Matt's eyes. "Out in the Sonoran Desert, there is a valley. Nothing to see from one horizon to the next, except for creosote bush, bur sage and the occasional mesquite. But if you know where to look, there is a tiny bunker dug beneath the ground with reinforced concrete walls and just one access point. The door on it would thwart an army of locksmiths and explosives experts. In fact, that bunker would withstand a nuclear bomb dropped on its roof. I know, because I designed the whole thing myself." Mello smirked. "It was a storage facility for Colombian cocaine and, occasionally, weapons. But it was empty on the day that I left LA; and I'm the last person alive who even knows it's there."

"Except me." Matt whispered, nervously.

"Except you, baby." Mello smiled, slowly rubbing Matt's back. "So here is the situation. If you ever pull a stunt like that again across me, I will restrain and sedate you. I will take you there and I will put you in that bunker. Please note that it is empty. No resources, not even a line of coke. I will then close the door and pile rocks up against it, before closing the shield and kicking soil back over the join. It's a desolate place at the best of times, but you can never be too careful. I will then leave and never come back."

Matt had stopped breathing. He was staring at Mello with huge eyes. Only now did he breathe out the words, "You are a fucking arsehole."

"I would pray for you. It can't be nice, starving to death in pitch darkness, with only your restraints for comfort."

Matt wriggled to get away, but Mello gripped his collar hard with the other hand pressing down on Matt's bruised rear. Matt winced; his knee came up but jammed on the bed nowhere near Mello. "You would not do that!" Matt gasped. "You fucking wouldn't, Mello! You're not that evil."

Mello gave a sudden jerk upwards, propelling them over until Matt was beneath him. Matt gave a strangled shriek, but was held down by Mello's body on top of him. "Maybe you're right." Mello growled. "It would be less hassle to just force you to dig your own grave in our backyard, then bury you alive in it."

"Mello, stop it. Please." Matt panted. "I get the picture. Ok? We're all good now, man. I'll behave. You're the man. You're the boss."

"Am I frightening you, Mail?" Mello asked sweetly. He already had one of Matt's wrists grasped tightly, but now he captured the other. He pressed his knee down, until Matt's legs opened; then Mello levered them far apart with his own thighs. Mello's mouth descended to encase Matt's Adam's apple with his teeth. For long moments, they lay still, with Matt trying hard to not even swallow, though his mouth was dry.

Eventually Matt replied, softly, "Yes, you are."

Mello rose, leaving teethmarks in Matt's throat. "Good." He kissed Matt's mouth. "Now you know how much your actions frighten me."

"But you wouldn't do that." Matt persisted, trying desperately to show no emotion, but his eyes were flooded. "You wouldn't do that to me."

Mello looked at him with a gaze that could have frozen lava. "Let's hope that we never have to find out."

"I can't believe that you're even saying these things to me."

There was a short knock at the door. Mello rolled his eyes and twisted off him, landing on his feet on the floor. By the time he'd reached the door, his features had rearranged into charming friendliness. He opened up and surveyed Deontic. "Yes?"

Deontic's gaze skittered towards the crack in the door. Matt was now on his side, on the bed, knees up in a foetal position, shaking. Whatever she had heard, she didn't mention it. Nor did she comment upon what she might have glimpsed through the door. "Will you come up to the communal hall?" She asked, in banal tones.

"Is Matt on trial?"

"No." Deontic found a weak smile. "Fenian has some information about the house to present."

"To me?" Mello asked, in surprise.

Deontic sighed, "To anyone who is on this case! And, incidentally, Fenian is talking about leaving and Century has disappeared into Aberystwyth with Siân. So that leaves me and you pair." She met his eyes. "Unless you all want me to just take the case over. I'm very happy to do that."

"No you're not." Mello frowned, hovering in the doorway. "Ok. I'll be up there shortly."

"Fair enough." Deontic shrugged. "I'll see you there." She turned on her heel and left, but walked straight along the front of the chalet. Mello did not miss her glance through the window, close enough for net curtains to not hinder her view.

Mello closed the door and stepped back to the end of the bed. "Mail." There was no response. "Mail, your choice is to come with me or remain here, handcuffed to the bed, whereupon I will ignore you for an hour after I get back."

Matt uncurled, with his eyelashes and cheeks wet. He scrambled for his goggles and eased himself off the bed. "You're a wanker, Mello." He fitted the goggles onto his face with trembling hands. "You wouldn't do it."

"Sure?" Mello strode across and gathered his unresponsive husband in his arms. "Mail. Mail, listen to me." He gently thumbed the tears from Matt's cheek, watching how much effort it was taking not to replace them with more. Mello relented. "Ok, you're right. I couldn't do that to you. But you've been quietly punishing me for two months for saying scary things to you, so in for a penny, in for a pound. I love you to death, Mail, but I won't have you undermining me."

"You're a fucking arse."

"Yes, I am." Mello reached behind Matt, rendering him momentarily off-balance, but holding him securely so he wouldn't fall. Mello returned with Matt's cigarettes and lighter from the bedside table. "Now have a smoke and calm down."

"You complete bastard." Matt snatched the cigarettes and lit one, while Mello cuddled him close. "How dare you say that I'm the fucked up one? When you've got a mouth like that."

Mello kissed his forehead. "You're in pain and feeling victimised, despite the fact that you co-operated with every mark on you. You could have just laid flat on your back or moved off my lap. At no time were you restrained, guapo. Just for the record."

Matt looked at him with incredulity. "This has nothing to do with that."

"Hasn't it?" Mello patted Matt's shoulder. "Then it's a more endemic rebellion that you have going on there."

"It wasn't a fucking rebellion. It was trying and succeeding in protecting you, you twisted, Slavonic bitch."

Mello sighed. "Mail, a year ago, I could have said to you, 'get on your knees, because I want to kick you in the face, and break your nose and your goggles' and you would have dropped down like a shot. These days, you..." He paused as Matt pushed away from him, then fell to his knees. "Really?"

The cigarette wobbled between Matt's lips. "A year ago, you would never have said such a thing." He looked up from behind the goggles and hair, his eyes swimming again. "And I'm on my knees."

Mello reached down and stroked his hair. "Yes. I can see that." He stared down at his husband, looking pensive. "Alright, I am being a bitch. You can get up." He reached down to help Matt onto his feet again. "There's something got between us, Mail, that's causing us to keep hitting the wrong note with each other. It started in that house and it's not over yet. We will deal with it. But it's not right when I can upset you to the point where you're in tears. A hard-faced, unemotional git like you. It's not right when I'm feeling cornered to the point where it's like nothing is communicated between us, without me having to hammer it into your skull. Are you ready to draw a line under this, guapo? Because I sure am."

Matt's cigarette had been smoked down to the filter. He took another drag, then inspected it in disgust. "How do we do that after what...?"

"Do you promise never to act unilaterally again, especially over something that affects me personally?" He watched Matt nodding dumbly. "Good, because I really will be pissed off next time."

"You're threatening me again."

Mello sighed. "If I thought that this could just be resolved with time, I'd be taking us home now. But I think that something followed us. Something keeping us on edge."

"With respect, that sounds like fucking paranoia."

"Maybe." Mello agreed. "And I hope that you're right. But we can't go on like this."

Matt looked at him, trying to keep the fear from his features, "Don't tell me that it's over."

"What?"

"You're talking like we're on the verge of splitting up!"

Mello blinked. "Baby, you appear to be under the misapprehension that I can live without you." He shook his head. "We are not splitting up. Now or ever. I'd see you dead before I let you leave me and I'm going nowhere." He watched Matt nod. "So put that out of your head right now. I will never, ever abandon you, Mail Jeevas. Understood?"

"Yes."

Mello smiled, "Good. Then we have a start."
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Annals of Fear II