My Own Way

Matt shook as he laid out the gauzes and ointment. His gaze scittered all over the place, never looking at anything directly, when a sidewards glance could suffice. He hurried to wash his hands, then stayed for ages doing so. Deep in thought without a game in his hands. Then he quickly dried his hands and trotted across to where Mello sat stripped to the waist, waiting for his wounds to be covered again. Very gently, Matt debrided the rough edges and cleaned with surgical soap. The Bacitracin was lathered over the areas where skin was slowly spreading and where the skin buds had appeared. Silverdene still used where that was not taking place.



Mello watched him with a faint smile on his face. He was looking at the friend he\'d known back at Wammy\'s House. It wasn\'t in the nerves, that wasn\'t Matt and it was probably very temporary, it was in the fact that his emotions were on his sleeve. There was neither the aloofness nor the distance. It was more than just attention, it was like having someone fade in view who had previously been camoflagued. Like a switch being turned on. Mello knew how to command a room, but he had never learned Matt\'s trick of blending into it until he could be neither felt or seen. Right now, Matt could be felt. His personality was there. Mello reached out and touched his waist. "Are you ok, Matty?"



"Yes." He still looked and sounded very stunned.



"That was a thank you for doing all of this for me." Mello gulped, feeling it important to retain the get-out clause, though his own body still tingled with the sensations he had learned on Matt\'s bed. "Keeping me alive." Matt flinched and Mello watched the walls coming down again. He caught his hand. "Mail. It was more."



"We\'re not supposed to use real names."



"Like you ever gave a shit about that." Mello bit his lip. This was just another political game. He had to say the right things or things could be lost. It was a balance between keeping Matt out in the open and keeping him from getting the upper hand. One thing that everyone had done at Wammy\'s was to underestimate the redhead. They ranked him third and forgot that he was a genius. Mello never forgot. He knew damn well that the only thing that ever kept Mail Jeevas back was Mail Jeevas. If Mello couldn\'t pull it off, then he knew what the outcome would be. Matt would follow him into the underworld, into a violent and deadly place where Mello might not be able to ensure his safety. "I made contacts today. I\'m back in."



Matt turned away. He inspected his hands, still covered in the ointment. "You didn\'t have to do that."



"I did, Matt, and you know I did."



"I wish you hadn\'t, that\'s all." The redhead returned to his side, fingers fumbling over the petroleum gauze. "I\'ll be honest with you, Mell, I\'m worried about what the Mafia does to your mind. It clouds your judgement."



"Like fuck does it." Mello glared. He refused to accept that, especially from someone who took as many drugs as Matt did. "Just because you can\'t work out the plans, it\'s doesn\'t mean that they aren\'t there. A month ago, I was this close," he indicated a tiny space between finger and thumb, "from flushing out Kira. You want me to be written out of the story now? What am I supposed to do? Disappear into your bed until Near\'s caught him, then put up bunting to welcome him home? Fuck that, Matty. Fuck that! Just because you can\'t control me, it doesn\'t mean that I just go away. I have my dreams too and I will be number one."



"There could have been other ways."



Mello\'s spat back, "Like what? Come on, give me your pearls of wisdom, Matt."



Matt bowed his head, pretending to concentrate on a particularly tricky piece of gauze at Mello\'s chest. "I don\'t know. It\'s thought that Kira is in Japan. Go to Japan." He gulped, his Adam\'s apple bobbing up and down. He was so beautiful. So sexy, even more so now that Mello knew what that body could do to his own. "What\'s my role now, Mello?"



Mello bit back the emotion that kept trying to engulf him in its flames. What he really wanted to say was \'be here to cuddle me, because I really want a cuddle\', but that was guaranteed to scare Matt right away. "I\'ve got a vacancy for a whore." He watched the redhead freeze and start to walk away into the front room. Mello laughed. "I\'m joking, Matty. Sorry." The redhead stopped and returned to his administrations. "Sorry."



"Mello?" Matt bit his lip, his gaze fast upon the blond\'s shoulder. "Would you have stopped? If I\'d said no. Would you have left me alone?"



Mello stared at him. It was a little disconcerting that Matt even needed to ask him that. It should have been self-evident that he would have stopped. Mello frowned, deciding whether to be insulted or not; then wondered if this was just an extention of Matt\'s warped mind. Did he want to believe that he could have been raped? He certainly got off on pain and being slammed up walls, this didn\'t seem so different to that. Was he expecting Mello to play a part here, like role-play something? Mello glanced at the redhead, but all he could see was fear. It looked real. Which meant that Matt really did have doubts that Mello would have stopped. Matt actually believed that he could have raped him. Mello stared at the door, aware that he was doing it, but unsure how to react, knowing that the longer he procrastinated, the more dishonest his response would eventually seem. He had to think quickly. He could lie. He could mess with his head, he could control him with more fear. No, he couldn\'t do that to him. "I would have stopped."



Matt nodded, but didn\'t look too convinced. "Thank you."



Mello sighed. He turned and grabbed both of Matt\'s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Matt. I would have stopped."



The redhead sagged a little, exhaling loudly. He flashed a smile. "You\'re going to have to give me some time to get used to you again. You\'re not the same person who left me. I\'m not sure how much of you is the same and how much changed."



"It\'s ok, Matty." Mello frowned. The conflict raged inside. He wanted Matt to know him and he wanted him to fear him. The two didn\'t seem compatible. "I\'m doing the same with you. We met back up at a bad time."



"Did you get anything out of...?" Matt waved towards the door and the bedroom. "I mean was it all, erm..."



"I got something out of it." Mello slowly drew him close, pressing him to the right side of him in the cuddle which he knew that he needed more than Matt did. He was thankful when the redhead didn\'t pull away, but shifted his arms to hold Mello tightly on undamaged skin. "In fact, I wouldn\'t mind getting something out of it more regularly." He closed his eyes, not wanting to think about the cost to his immortal soul right now, just hoping that Matt would read between the lines. He nuzzled into the red hair, finding an ear to kiss. Matt\'s heart was pounding against him. It was really lovely. It was comforting. It felt like something clean in the midst of all the murk. "If that is alright with you?"



Mello expected Matt to leap at the opportunity. He didn\'t. Instead, the redhead replied very carefully. "What\'s the context?"



"What\'s the context?" Mello repeated in disbelief. "We\'re not talking about evidence for an essay here! We\'re talking about having sex again!" He frowned deeply. "What? Are you waiting for me to declare undying love for you or something? It\'s fucking sex, Matty. That\'s all. Sex." He realised that, as he had been engaging in his semi-rant, he had been rubbing Matt\'s back, enjoying the proximity of him. The redhead hadn\'t tensed. Mello bit his lip, knowing that he had not been watching the subliminal body language that belied his words. Matt was not stupid. He would be picking up on this. "I\'m just a very tactile person."



"Mello, you\'re the least tactile person I know, unless you\'re including hitting people." Matt whispered. "You misunderstood my question."



"Then ask it coherently then." Mello snapped. "Don\'t ask me to have to translate your flaky mumblings and I\'ll get it right."



Matt sighed. "Mello, are you gay?"



"No."



"Then no, I don\'t want sex with you."



Mello froze. This conversation was not going the way he had anticipated at all. Matt was playing with the hair at the back of Mello\'s head and it felt nice. It made him feel special in a way that didn\'t exist elswhere in his world. Just a tiny, insignificant thing next to the momentous occasion of Matt actually allowing a cuddle to take place with all signs of being in it too, but Mello liked his hair being played with. "Why don\'t you want to have sex with me?"



"Because that just makes me another one of your underlings. You control everyone with sex and violence and you\'ve been doing a great job of that on me. You can make me disappear in your mind if you just beat me up and fuck me. So no."



Mello felt his temper rising. He came close to throwing the impertinent bastard off him, but Matt\'s hand was rubbing his back in perfect imitation of what he, himself, was doing to Matt. It felt soothing. Mello restricted himself to growling, "You think I\'m sleeping with the entire Mafia?"



"Aren\'t you?"



"No, I bloody well am not!" Mello raged, still in the cuddle and still leaning into the tenderness. Matt had never been so uninhibited with his body. No-one entered his personal space like this and yet here Mello was. Cuddling and being cuddled, being undone with something soft and gentle. "Just because I dress like this, I\'m not a slag! They can dream on, you presumptuous arsehole."



Matt smiled. Mello felt it against his neck. "So you use sex, but you\'re not participating in sex? This whole thing is just a big act. But you\'re not gay."



Mello waivered. He could almost hear the genius cogs turning beneath that red hair. He connected the dots himself and didn\'t like the conclusions that he arrived at. "No, I\'m not gay, but I liked what we did earlier. That\'s not a crime, is it?"



"Actually, yes." Matt muttered. "If you\'re a Catholic."



Mello gasped and pushed Matt away from him. He had gone too far. He was seeing too much and making too many strong deductions on things that Mello did not want to think about, even privately. "Enough. Matt, if I want it, I\'ll just take it. Don\'t think I couldn\'t rape you. It means nothing to me."



"Ok." The redhead replied, mildly. He washed and dried his hands, then lit up a cigarette. "But I\'ll fight you every step of the way."



"You haven\'t told me to leave." Mello accused, determined to gain the upper hand. "You\'re just trying to put the guilt onto me for something you really want."



"I won\'t ask you to leave." Matt shrugged. There was little of his expression could be seen behind the hair, goggles and smoke, but there was a smile. "You think I care about what you do to me? You can kick the living Hell out of me and yeah, perhaps I\'ll even get turned on and secretly enjoy it, but I won\'t consent again. You take me and you really are raping me next time. There will be no eleventh hour reprieve. Your tactics only work if I give a damn."



"Fine." Mello bowed his head, trying desperately to work out what that airhead\'s thought processes were. It was some kind of drug-crazed logic that he couldn\'t follow. "So you fancy the arse off me, but you won\'t have sex with me. You want me to rape you, but you won\'t leave...?"



"No. I don\'t want you to rape me." Matt interupted. "I want you to admit why you\'re doing it."



"I\'ve already told you, because it keeps you sweet." Mello smirked, gaining the upper hand again. He practically purred out, "You love it, Matty. You\'re here with all your big words, but I\'ve felt your body when I kiss you. You love it. You won\'t leave because you\'ve been pining for me for four years, longer than that! Now you get me with added extras and all your dreams have come true. Awwww."



"Still wrong." Matt blew smoke rings in the air.



Mello gingerly touched his dressings, surprised to note that Matt had actually finished. He had thought that the back one still had to be done. It was a disconcenting notion that Matt might be out-thinking him here, though it was more likely that he just wasn\'t making sense. "You crack me up, Matt. You really do."



Matt smirked. "My terms now. I\'m prepared to meet you halfway. You want a kiss or a cuddle..."



"Why would I want those off you?"



"... I promise not to block you out. I will even let you fall asleep with your head on my lap." He gazed at Mello with an unreadable expression. "If you really want me to, I\'ll consider brushing your hair for you. That\'s what I have to offer."



Mello couldn\'t believe his ears. "You really are a drug-haddled fuck up, aren\'t you, Matt? Do I look like I want someone to brush my fucking hair?" He had had enough of this discussion. "You might fantasise about owning a Barbie Doll, but I\'m not it. For crying out loud, Matty, I\'m a fucking Mafia Consigliere! Who have you got me mixed up with in your head?" He rose from his seat and advanced on the redhead, pressing him up against the cupboard and running a hand down his body. The green eyes widened, not in shock or fear, but in desire. Mello snorted. "You won\'t fight back, you fucking whore. You\'d just roll over and take it. I fucking own you now."



"Yes, Mello." Matt smirked back, as if it was him who was winning this game. "Incidentally, your nose is really pretty. I think your scar is going to be really sexy as well."



"What the fuck?"



"And when I hold you like this." Matt moved his hand to press against Mello\'s spine. "You relax just a little bit and put your head against mine."



Mello pulled away. This was fucked up. "I\'m going to bed. Just watch your back, Matt, because you\'re an amateur at mindgames and you touch me up like an adolescent child. Good luck with your pitiful attempt at sexual politics. I look forward with amusement whatever you think up for tomorrow. Goodnight."



"\'Night, Mello."



Mello walked off along the passageway, replaying the conversation in his head. It felt vaguely like he had lost something and he wasn\'t sure what. He frowned and turned on his heel, retracing his steps back into the kitchen. Matt was sitting in a chair, his head bowed. He released a deep breath just as Mello reappeared, then looked up at him, his expression like a rabbit caught in headlights. "Don\'t look for me, Matt, you won\'t find me. The kid who walked out of Wammy\'s House died a long time again. I\'m sorry." Mello slipped away again, back down the passageway.



There was a scraping of the chair legs on tiles, then Matt rushed into the doorway behind him. "Mell, when we shared a room, you used to say to me that the saddest thing was that I didn\'t have faith. You said that you didn\'t even care if it was Christianity. You just wished I had faith in something." Mello nodded, recalling the sentiment. "Well, you can relax. I\'ve got faith now. I\'ve got faith in you. You put on this hard-faced attitude, but I still think it\'s you underneath it." Matt leaned sassily up against the jamb. "Don\'t look at me like that. I know you had to harden up. I know I\'ll probably get hurt for believing what I do, but I do think you\'re still the same Mello underneath." He shrugged and returned to the kitchen.



Mello stared at the space in which he\'d stood. He had to breathe steadily just to keep his equilibrium. Every instinct said to march back into that room and beat the belief out of that impossible redhead. He touched the wood of his bedroom door and fought against the urge to punch it instead. This wasn\'t like LA, where there had been no respite from wickedness and no quiet places where he could step off his guard. This flat didn\'t feel like safety, but it was close enough. Wherever Matt was, it nearly felt like home and that was softening his resolve too much.



He took a deep breath and walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and crashing onto the bed. He closed his eyes and saw again the blood on the face of this victim and heard the Matt\'s desperate pleas not to be violated. Mello bit hard on his lip, determined not to shed a tear. His body hurt so much. He undressed and crawled under the bedclothes, trying to position the quilt so that it wouldn\'t press down on a world of pain. His eyes stung with the suppressed tears and he clutched his rosary, instead of hanging it over the headboard as usual. If he could, perhaps, get some sleep, it might be alright again.



There was the softest knock on the door, then it immediately opened. Mello couldn\'t turn quickly enough with his injuries to see what was happening, but it didn\'t matter, because the door closed again and Matt padded around the bed to lie beside him. Mello blinked rapidly, his features already forming into a sneer, but Matt placed his finger against Mello\'s lips. "Take it as said." He lifted the blond head and slid an arm underneath, kissing his head just above the hairline. "Just let me hold you."



Mello tried to snap, \'Who said you could hold me?\', but his voice failed him. Instead, he surrendered, snuggling as close as his injuries would permit and allowed himself to take the comfort. "I would have stopped, Matty."



"I know."