Poisoned Rationality

Mello stood for a couple of minutes staring back at The Wammy House from the shadows beneath the trees outside. As a result, it was Matt who sat in the driving seat first; Matt who opened his laptop and, after a short search interupted by his lover sliding silently into the passenger seat, drove them to the nearest twenty-four hour chemists. It was also Matt who walked inside to obtain their drugs, after holding his hand out pointedly until Mello gave him the three prescriptions. He also nipped into the off-licence next door and emerged with a six pack of lager, a packet of cigarettes and five bars of Bourneville Dark chocolate.



They were halfway across Winchester before a single word was spoken. It was Mello, rasping like he was the smoker, "Are you alright?"



"Da." Matt responded in the affirmative. "Dobro sam."



"Stop speaking in Croatian." Mello glared. "Honestly, I don\'t need you to. It\'s something that I..." He exhaled loudly and punched the window. "Just don\'t. You\'re going to use it for sex and swearing at me and things."



Matt raised his eyebrows and quietly lit a cigarette. "So, in short, it\'s a language you use for your religion and you don\'t want it sullied by a miserable, non-believing sinner." There was no response. Casting a glance sidewards, he saw that Mello\'s head was turned to stare out of the passenger window. "Just so I\'m clear. Croatian is the language of the spiritual; English is neutral ground; French is for communicating in front of Japanese police officers; and Spanish is the language we use whenever you want to fuck with my head. Have we got a use for Latin yet? Only that\'s a bit Catholic as well, isn\'t it?"



"What\'s the truth about the oxytocin and vasopressin, Matt?" Mello snapped back. "You said in there that it could be manipulated. Roger tells me that it can\'t. If I am to believe him then I have to believe that 50% of our relationship, our whole friendship, has been a lie. Let\'s face it, you\'ve spent most of your life throwing up smokescreens around you. It\'s what you do best. Hacking results, manipulating things, spreading misinformation and just smirking when anyone calls you on it. Do you even know the truth yourself anymore?"



From a starting speed of 95mph, Matt drove them into a fast-food drive-through, arriving at the intercom ordering facility with a screech of brakes and a smell of burning rubber. Mello slapped his hands on the dashboard with the seat-belt lashing into his chest and shoulder, as it sought to keep him from going through the windowscreen. Matt spoke languidly out of the window. "A whopper with cheese and extra gherkins and a large fries please." There was scraging of steel against his forehead, as Mello\'s gun smacked into it. "Twice."



"I don\'t want a fucking burger!" Mello raged. Matt calmly took his own gun from his pocket and pointed it straight back at his lover. "What the fuck...?"



"Would you like fries with that?" Matt snapped back at him. Through the intercom, a shaken female voice informed them that she was calling the police. "Great, you do that." Mello simply leaned past him and shot the communication device. It erupted in a small explosion, wires fraying into the air. It was as much to demonstrate to the redhead that, this time, the semi-automatic was actually loaded, than anything else. "Arsehole." Matt lowered his gun and released the handbrake. They were already doing sixty by the time they reached the road and cut up traffic in a shrieking of gears. He hurled them up random B-roads, doing eighty, and into the council estates, until it was clear that they were not being followed by flashing blue lights.



"You\'ve changed." Mello commented, quietly. "I don\'t like it." Matt\'s response was to jump a red light and to spin the car into a side-street. Cars lined the kerbs and pedestrians walked along the path, but he put his foot down. "It\'s not a game, Matt. We don\'t bounce off anything." On the corner, a mother was screaming at them, but they only caught the sentiment in snatches through the open window. Looking back through the rear-view window, Mello realised that it was because her two children were on their bikes between two stationary cars. "Please slow down before you get us arrested." Matt\'s left-turn jarred Mello into the door and he braced himself. "Yes, you are controlling the car better than I did on the Downs."



They came to a screeching halt at the end of a cul-de-sac. Ahead was a patch of wasteground ending in trees and, for a moment, Mello thought Matt was going to drive forward into it. Around them, people were out of their houses. Angry adults advancing to the ends of their gardens. Any minute now, they would become organised. Delegations of burly fathers would come to batter the joyriders. There were probably already calls being made to the police as they sat there. Matt leaned on the wheel, glaring at the foliage. Mello tapped his gun against the base of his seat and peered out of the window. There was a lot of pointing in small groups, but no-one was actually approaching. In the distance came the sound of police sirens.



Mello sighed loudly. Then turned to look at the redhead. "I love you, Mail." There was a flash of green behind the goggles, as Matt glanced at him. "Now, get us the fuck out of here."



Matt threw the car into reverse and they sped backwards between the cars and out onto the connecting road. Careering down the unfamiliar street, they saw a sign for the motorway. Matt headed for it, but, at the last minute, disdained the slip-road for a smaller track underneath the bridge. It led them alongside pillars and beside an electrical generator, bushes concealing them from the roads above and behind. There was no way forward, but the sleight did its job. Police cars roared along the ways, bypassing them completely in favour of each of the other options. Matt lit a cigarette, removed the keys, handed them to Mello and stepped out of the car. With barely a breath to consider it, Mello opened his own door and met his lover at the end of the bonnet.



Mello immediately grabbed Matt by the collar and threw him onto the car. There was a loud clacking of metal and the redhead tensed, shrieking. Mello screamed into his face, "I want my Matty back! I don\'t want you getting jaded and angry and..." He let him go and stalked off to the railings of the generator. Against the warmth of the cooling bonnet, Matt took the cigarette from his lips and exhaled. "You\'ve changed. You would never have challenged me in public in the past. You would never have pulled the shit you just did. All these little power trips you keep going on, what\'s it all about, Matt? Do you want us dead or inside or... what do you want?" He glared back, but Matt was still lying on the car, smoking. "I\'m sorry! Ok! I\'m sorry that if it hadn\'t been for your suicidal, fucking driving in Japan, you would probably be dead now. I\'m sorry that if it wasn\'t for the fact that that bitch... that a simple little \'ea\' instead of an \'ae\' meant that I\'m not dead. I\'m sorry I put you through that. I\'m sorry about Los Angeles. I\'m sorry that I raked your past up just now at Wammy\'s. I\'m sorry that I acted like an arsehole after Christmas and scared the life out of you. I\'m sorry I got blown up. I\'m sorry I made you hack your way into procuring a missile for the Mafia. I\'m sorry I exposed you to underworld bosses on two continents. I\'m sorry I left you when I was fourteen. I\'m sorry I hit you. I\'m sorry I got you shot. I\'m sorry it had to be you who shot Kira. I\'m sorry that you spend most of your life in pain because of me. I\'m sorry that our first time wasn\'t roses and candles. I\'m sorry I\'ve been Hell to live with at times. I\'m sorry for every time I shouted at you and humiliated you and I\'m sorry I didn\'t stop on the Downs. I\'m sorry I nearly slept through your birthday." Mello watched as Matt rose onto his elbows to stare back, impenetrably, through those goggles. "I\'m sorry for whatever it fucking takes to be sorry for just to get you back to being my Matty." He had yelled the \'my\', the possessiveness rang around the generator.



"I\'m sorry I lost my temper at McDonalds." Matt commented with a small shrug. In the streets around them, the police sirens kept circling, but none came too close. He sighed and pushed his goggles onto the top of his head. It took his fringe with it, revealing a white forehead over deep, green eyes. He took his cigarette out of his mouth. "I\'m still here, Mello. I\'m still me."



The blond stalked back to the car, covering Matt with his body and embedding his fingers into that mass of red hair. One knee rose, stretched over with black leather, onto the bonnet. Mello kissed him, violently claiming his lover back for himself. The redhead submitted, legs opening as Mello\'s leg pressed between them. When the hands in his hair tightened, Matt just kissed back harder. His own arms linked underneath Mello\'s armpits, helping him retain his balance. They stayed there even when Mello pulled back from the kiss, removed a hand from his hair and slapped Matt hard across the face. "You\'re a fucking arsehole, Matt." Mello was shivering, not wearing nearly enough clothes to be warm in an English February drizzle. He dived in for another kiss. It was shorter, but no less passionate. "This is not over, but I am not catching pneumonia to sort you out in the bloody rain." He dropped the car keys onto Matt\'s jacket. "Drive us the fuck home."



"Me drive?" Matt spluttered. He grabbed the keys before they fell off him. Mello slid away, then leaned forward to yank him off the car, throwing him onto the floor. With a final glare, the blond opened the passenger door and sat down again, staring at him with a dangerous glint in his eyes through the windowscreen. Matt nodded, standing up and brushing away the debris of the ground. He returned to the driving seat. "So that if the police stop us, they know exactly who was driving?"



Mello barked back. "No. It\'s because I trust you." A sudden smirk creased his glowering features. Matt narrowed his eyes at it and pulled the goggles back down. A quick glance around told him that the only way out was to reverse. He listened, but the sirens were in the distance now. "Speed limit all the way, Matty."



"Why are you letting me drive?" Matt asked, dubiously.



"Why are you questioning my decisions, when I\'ve already told you the answer?" Mello snapped off chocolate and kept his gaze on the generator in front. The smirk grew wider.



"\'kay." Matt switched on the engine. With another sidewards glance, he pursed his lips, then concentrated on his manoeuvres in extracting the car from the track. Once out on the road, there was no sign of the police. "What is the speed limit?"



"Thirty."



"\'kay." It felt like crawling after their previous speeds, as they followed a road parallel to the motorway. A mile on, they spotted a sign for the next junction and followed it onto the motorway. Matt forced himself to relax despite the fact that Mello kept sniggering. "What\'s the speed limit on here?"



"I love how you don\'t even know. So what did you do every time I asked you to come and get me, but do it legally?" Mello\'s hand snaked over and stroked the inside of Matt\'s thigh through the denim. His eyes grew wide behind the goggles. "It\'s seventy. Let\'s see how good a driver you really are." The blond\'s fingers spidered over Matt\'s crotch to his belt. "Eyes on the road."



Matt gulped. "You cannot seriously be contemplating..."



Mello yelled in his face, "Do not tell me what I can and cannot do with you. I own you, Matty."



"Oh fuck." Matt breathed. He flashed a glance at the passing signpost. There was another twenty miles until they were home. "Ok, I\'m owned. It\'s a flawless victory."



Mello smirked. He had the buckle undone and was working on the buttons of Matt\'s flies. The fur of his jacket was warm above his hand, but so was the flesh beneath. "I told Roger we were out of control."



Matt exhaled. "Yes, let\'s talk about Roger. What do you think about his theories that you are suffering from...?" Leather fingers squeezed his testicles. Matt slowed to fifty. Heat flushed throughout his body. "Are you going to take...?" They squeezed harder. "Ok, I\'m sorry."



"This isn\'t about being sorry or not. It\'s about me getting off on the fact that you are thoroughly owned." Mello grinned widely, a square of chocolate held between his teeth. "I can do reckless too, you know. In fact, when it comes to me and you, I invented reckless. You are taking on a master at the art of it." His hand took Matt\'s shaft and eased his dick out of the slit in his boxer shorts. "And, trust me, I am getting off on it."



Matt focused on the road, his driving suffering from the concentration upon it. Such things were always better done as engrams. He slowed down to forty and stayed in the first lane. Mello continued stroking him, smiling beneath his chocolate. Matt\'s mind flew through the possible reactions. Was this Mello reasserting his domination, after being frightened in Wammy\'s and on the streets? It was the most probable scenario. He had seen the blond crying before Matt had left Roger\'s office and Mello never cried. He raged, but he didn\'t cry. Mello\'s whole psyche would have been freaking out there, then, to add to things, he would have felt out of control. In which case, the best thing that Matt could do for him would be to submit and allow his lover to feel like the world was his for the commanding again. However, there were two caveats here. What if Mello had finally lost it? Deep down, Matt still felt shaky over the way that his lover had became so consistently vicious in the weeks leading up to their capture of Kira. Though Mello had pleaded that it had all been a ruse, a misunderstanding concerning Matt\'s own psychology, the redhead still had secret doubts. He would never air them, but they persisted in the depths of his insecurity. The second factor was that, no matter what they did, there was always the option to stop it. All Matt had to do was say the safe-word. It would all be over. But this felt like January in Japan again. Then, as now, in truth, Matt was too scared to say the word.



A thought occurred. Yesterday on the Downs, Mello screaming into the night, then yelling at him. Blaming him for not stopping them. It had been chicken then. But Mello had kept saying to him, \'just say the word, Matty.\' He wasn\'t saying it now. Mello had that look in his eye. The one which seemed to owe more to psychotic sadism than carefully controlled sexual domination. Cars were overtaking them in the middle lane, disappearing into the distance at an indecent speed. Mello was stroking rhythmically and, despite the fear, despite the thundering adrenaline, Matt was hardening in his hand. He forced himself to keep his eyes open and his mind on the traffic. He over-steered and had to swerve back from crossing the line. Was this a test? Was this Mello silently begging him to stop them? Matt\'s fevered thoughts alighted upon the last thing that his lover had said before doing this to him. \'I told Roger we were out of control.\' The redhead swallowed hard. If he was misreading this, if this was Japan instead of the Sussex Downs, then he was genuinely afraid of what Mello might do.



Another memory arose from the depths of Matt\'s mind. It was back when they could only have been eleven or twelve. Mello having a massive tantrum, which saw everyone else scattering to get out of the way. Only Matt had stayed, playing SuperMario only a few feet away from the smashed vases and upturned table. He had finally moved when the broken glass resulted in blood pouring from his friend\'s hand. He had caught Mello\'s wrist and thrust it up in the air to slow the circulation. The blond had instantly deflated, muttering at him, \'thank you for not being scared of me\', then the adults had turned up. The speedometer read forty-five now. Matt took a deep breath and tensed. "Mell. Please..."



"Keep your eyes on the road, Matty."



"Watari."



Mello immediately withdrew his hand. There was a creaking, then the blond stretched out to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Matt." He sat back with a triumphant expression fading into contemplation. "We might just make it after all. We just need to find our balance again, and we will. I\'ve been thinking about it, while I\'ve been sat here..."



"You\'ve been thinking about it." Matt breathed out, conscious of his sweating palms and the fact that his flies were undone, his gentalia hard and exposed underneath his jacket. "That\'s good to know."



"Everything we\'ve been through these past six months. Decade. Especially the last few weeks." Mello bit into the chocolate and sucked the tiny shards, before working on the larger square. "It\'s been like a pendulum on the emotions and how we are with each other. The law of inertia says that there\'s got to be a bit of time before that pendulum stops swinging. I hurt you a lot when I left and we met back up in the middle of a war. Sometimes I feel like I don\'t know you and sometimes I feel like we\'ve never been closer. Half the time I don\'t know whether I should be hugging you, hurting you or ignoring you, just for you to like me."



"What?" Matt gushed and it finished in a half-laugh. He put his foot down and pulled them into the fast lane. Their estimated time of arrival home rose from half an hour to ten minutes in an acceletor floored beneath the redhead\'s boot. "Emotions? I don\'t do emotions. I\'ve got a low vasopressin level..." He glanced at his lover and paused. Mello was looking away again.



"Bollocks, Matt." Mello turned to search for bags on the back seat. They had all fallen into the footwell and thence under the seats. It took some reaching to find what he was looking for. The oxytocin replacement nasal spray. Three minutes of love, trust and bonding in one easy application. "The only difference between us is that I actually express my feelings." He broke the seal and pulled off the plastic cap. Ignoring the worried glances in his direction, Mello sprayed it into his hand to test it, then held the little bottle inches from Matt\'s face. "Breathe in."



"Mell..." But it was being squirted and he shut his mouth again. At the second attempt, Matt did as he was told and inhaled through his nose. "Woot!" He gasped, as the chemicals surged like a refreshing draft through his sinuses and into his brain. "Wow! Why did I never use that stuff before? Wow! I like it! Repeat prescription?" The speedometer touched hundred and they overtook a whole line of vehicles, as if the others were parked. "I\'ll carry it with me always."



Mello frowned, then inspected the cannister again. With a slight shrug, he sprayed it into his own nostrils too. The world seemed suddenly so much more beautiful. He couldn\'t stop staring at Matt. "God, man, I love you."



"Love you too, Mell." Matt grinned.