Watari Pt 1: L\'s Heirs

It was the early hours of the morning when the shadows of trees parted to reveal their home. Mello had been dozing, despite saying he wouldn\'t, since the outskirts of Croydon, so Matt had felt no guilt in finding the little bomb of speed he\'d secreted under his dashboard for precisely this moment. It took the edge off but didn\'t leave him buzzing. Mello awoke with a start and blinked in confusion at the familiar sight of their backyard. He scrambled to climb of out of the passenger seat in time to catch Matt\'s glare over the top of the car.



There was a crack of chocolate being munched. Mello loitered at the side of the opened boot. "What are you going to do now?"



"Go to bed." Matt lifted out his bag.



"You know how I feel about going to bed on an argument."



"We\'re not arguing." The redhead started off towards the backdoor. Mello watched him, debating his next move. There was a football up against the wall. He picked it up and placed it down again in a better position. Eyes narrowing in calculation of the distance and the angle, then Mello kicked it in a swinging arch right at Matt\'s head. It hit him on the shoulder and ricochetted up, which was close enough. "What the fuck!" Matt yelled, turning. Mello smirked. "You\'re a fucking arsehole!"



"Now we\'re arguing." Mello strode across the gravel and grabbed the fist that rose to hit him. Twisting it, he knocked Matt onto his back. "Ok, now we\'re really arguing." Mello wriggled out of his jacket and dropped it on the floor. "Come on then." He kicked the redhead, then stepped back as he rose to his feet again. Matt flew at him, but Mello side-stepped easily. "Is that the best you can do?"



Matt had dropped his bag. He eyed his opponent. Mello had learned how to fight from masters in the art of it. Matt could usually get a few punches in, but only if they were in an enclosed space, where Mello couldn\'t dance out of range, and, so he suspected, Mello let him. Right now, the blond didn\'t look like he was playing. "This isn\'t arguing. This is fighting."



Mello sniggered. "It\'s not even that. Incidentally, this isn\'t about sex, this is about me beating you to a pulp because I want to." He advanced, keeping eye contact. "Oh, poor, little geek, are you going down?"



"You don\'t do this." Matt replied quietly. "This is what Roger thinks you do, but you don\'t. You\'re playing into your stereotype. What\'s this about?" He managed to at least get a punch in, even if it didn\'t connect brilliantly, before Mello threw one which felt like a ton of bricks landing against the side of his head. Matt kicked his boot out, but Mello leapt out of the way. There barely seemed a blond hair out of place and his gaze was glintly dangerously, but not with insanity. Matt weighed up his chances, but before he could reach a conclusion, he was kicked in the ribs with such a force that he knew one, at least, was broken. He curled into a ball and vomited on the ground.



Mello stood over him. "Don\'t ever embarrass me in public again." His foot went back again.



"Zdravo Marijo, milosti puna, Gospodin s tobom." Matt hissed, in pain. It was one of the few phrases in Croatian that he did know: \'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.\' It was the first time he had let Mello know he\'d memorised it though.



The boot dropped onto gravel, arrested mid-kick. "So you\'re going for talking your way out of it? You\'re no fun." Mello returned to the car and took out his own bag, slamming the boot shut with a loud bang. Matt was still down, though he\'d turned away from the puddle of blood and vomit. Mello bent over him and hunted beneath the fake fur of his jacket for the collar around his neck. Squeezing his fingers underneath it, he pulled. "Up." Matt struggled to his feet, his arms wrapped around his middle. Green eyes eyed him, then became downcast. Mello smiled. "I..." A fist took him square in the chin. With one hand on the collar and the other gripping his bag, Mello hadn\'t been able to defend himself in time. He dropped the bag, but didn\'t release the collar. He pulled Matt close and held him. "Ok! I\'ll give you that one. Clever, you saw and exploited. My fuck up." A blue gaze washed over the cut on Matt\'s temple. He smiled, feeling with his tongue the teeth jolted by Matt\'s punch. He unzipped Matt\'s jacket a little way, just to get a better fisthold on the collar. "What?"



"Fuck you."



"Play with fire, Matty, you\'re going to get burned." He cocked his head onto one side. "I\'ve never had you out here."



"You said it wasn\'t about sex."



"I lied." Mello pulled Matt back to the car, the collar digging into the back of his neck, then stepped aside and pushed him over the bonnet. "That was quite a wince."



"I think I\'ve broken a rib." Matt pressed his arm against it. "Feels like I\'ve been stabbed."



"Oops." Mello pressed down between his shoulderblades, kissing his ear and the bleeding wound beside it. "Pity I\'m such an arsehole."



"Watari." Matt replied, in a tone that suggested that he didn\'t think that their safe-word would be heeded. Mello leaned over to meet his eyes though. "Not all of it, but can I sort myself out first, please?" Mello slid his arm underneath and helped him turn over. His boots found purchase on the gravel, his back flat against the bonnet. Mello unzipped Matt\'s jacket the rest of the way and lifted his shirt. He\'d taken his glove off, so the fingers which exploded the line of his ribs caused new waves of agony and nausea. "Christ!"



Mello\'s hand rested on the bulge of Matt\'s genitals through the denim and he smiled. "None of them feel broken to me. I\'d be really fucking surprised if one was." He wandered off in to the garage, muttering \'I\'m better than that\'. He returned with a torch and shone it across Matt\'s rib-cage. "Bruising, lots of it, coming along nicely. Yes, just as I planned. But absolutely no swelling whatsoever." A beatific smile appeared on his face. "Bruised." His spotlight found Matt\'s fingers checking for himself for the supposed fractures. "Since when have you not been able to take the pain?"



"Ok."



Mello shone the torch into his face. "Diagnosis?"



"Not broken."



"So you\'re a whinging wimp."



"It felt broken."



Mello switched off the torch and placed a hand either side of his body, resting on the bonnet. "Are you going to start crying if I kiss you?"



Blood was starting to congeal down the right side of Matt\'s face, hardening in streams across the strap of his goggles and down his cheek to his jawbone. He cracked it as he lifted his goggles onto the top of his head and touched the wound. His stained hand traced a line down Mello\'s unblemished cheek. "No. I can handle a kiss."



The rosary banged against the bottom of Matt\'s chin, then fell only his neck as Mello levered himself close enough to embrace him without falling. Their lips met, starting softly, tendering, reaffirming that it was alright, then more boldly, until it seemed like Mello was trying to crush Matt into the engine itself. The bonnet lost its shape suddenly with a loud, metallic pop and Matt scittered several feet away, pushing Mello off him and landing against the garage wall with an expression of absolute fright on his face. "Yes." Mello commented, collecting himself from the floor where he\'d fallen. "That\'s why we\'ve never done that on the bonnet. I\'ve remembered now." He gathered Matt into his arms. "It\'s ok. I know now. It\'s ok. I promise you that I didn\'t intend for that to happen."



"Sorry."



"Don\'t be." Mello took his hand and guided him gently outside. They crossed the distance to their bags and Mello lifted them. "Let\'s abort this. It\'s doomed to failure." He took out his keys and opened the backdoor.



Matt crossed to the sink and slowly washed his face, then inspected his ribs properly. He drank a glass of water, swilling out his mouth and spitting it into the plughole stained red. Mello opened the fridge and looked for the orange juice. "Mell, we can\'t."



"What?"



Matt carefully peeled off his jacket and leaned against the worktop. "You\'re a Catholic. You don\'t believe in abortion." He shrugged, self-consciously, and inched his shirt over his head. "I\'d hate to drag you into mortal sin, so you\'re just going to have to fuck me."



Mello snorted, his head bent into the fridge and the door closing slightly in a vain attempt to conceal the fact that he was laughing. "That was so poor!" He glanced back to find that his lover was now topless, displaying the marks of his battering on his skin. The glance turned into a stare. "Ok, I\'ll grant you that. I did kick harder than I intended, or you\'ve started to bruise really easily." He closed the fridge door and stalked across to his lover. His fingers glided over the edges of the bruising, while the other hand enfolded into the red hair. Green eyes were fixed onto his face, watching with a Puckish grin. "You know, if Social Services ever walked into here, there\'s no way I\'d be able to explain you away."



"It\'s ok. They wash their hands of you when you\'re eighteen." He braced himself and, sure enough, Mello bent him backwards over the sink, hands sliding over him, while teeth bit his lower lip and a tongue slithered in to meet his. A leather-clad body enveloped his and the hand rose from his bruises to hook a finger around his collar again. Matt was drawn slowly over to the kitchen table and pressed against it. Mello shed his own jacket and unzipped the top beneath, then pointed to the tabletop. "On here?" He glanced across at St Jerome and could have kicked himself when Mello saw and followed his gaze. Matt pushed himself up onto the table, legs dangling over the side.



Mello crossed the room to turn the medallion around, then took a leap onto a chair and onto the table. He walked its length to stand over Matt with a smirk on his face. The light-bulb created a halo of his blond hair. He crouched and the effect was lost, finger tracing down the cleansed side of Matt\'s face shortly before he cupped his chin and threw him back. Matt landed on his back peering up and the proximity of the ceiling above his lover\'s head meant that the Slav had never quite seemed to have dwarfed him so much before. Mello\'s mouth descended and it was everywhere across Matt\'s exposed skin, kissing, licking, teasing, sucking, breathing, nipping and holding a nipple between his teeth, while his tongue flicked at it. A hand finally covered his heart, feeling the pounding within, as Mello gazed with that same, smug half-smile at the breathless redhead in his grasp. "Why are you so hot?"



"Thank you."



"No, I meant your skin."



"Have you looked at what you\'re doing to it recently?" Matt gasped.



Mello laughed. "Ok, your pupils are small anyway."



Matt suddenly remembered about the amphetamines in his system. He gazed up at the light-bulb and silently thanked it for its effect on his retinas, despite the fact that it nearly blinded him everytime he opened his eyes. Mello straddled him and took off his leather top. Matt let his gaze drop, then rise slowly over the sight of his lover. The blond was an even stranger patchwork of scars and healing than before. His general exhaustion had drained what little colour he had on the right side of his face; but exertion had reddened his cheek. On the left side of his face, the darker pigmentation of the burn was slowly lightening over time. It would never return to normal, but it would eventually be less noticeable. He could use make-up to conceal it completely, but Matt wasn\'t sure if Mello would do that. He had just become pensive and clammed up on both occasions it had been mentioned. Along his neck and shoulder, the skin grafts were still grainy and red in places, but nothing compared to the shock of that first sighting. The mess had seemed worse than the scars they had been trying to correct. Matt had been very glad of his hair and goggles for the first few seconds, before he could arrange his face into an expression that reassured Mello more than horrified him. Right now, it was obvious that the grafting was going to fade into the white scarring Mello had been promised; though there was still time for it to fail, it seemed unlikely. From there to the second degree mottling of his arm, chest and back, which Mello was already talking about having grafted too. Matt hoped that he wouldn\'t.



He realized that Mello had been watching him staring and met the gaze with a smile. "Sorry, just ogling. Carry on."



"See anything you like?"



"If I tell you how gorgeous you are and hot as fuck, you\'ll only..."



"Only what?" Mello leaned down and kissed him. "Thank you for always looking at me like I\'m beautiful." He cut off Matt\'s response with another kiss, then held his hand over the redhead\'s mouth as he trailed lovebites from his ear to his neckline. "I love marking you." Mello sat back to inspect his handiwork. He laughed. "I\'ve made a real mess of you tonight. You carry it so well." He let go of Matt\'s mouth in order to sit back and undo his belt. Matt gasped for breath, having fought for each one between Mello\'s fingers for the past few minutes. "And you deserve it." He pulled open Matt\'s flies in one practiced ripping of buttons from their buttonholes. "Still tired, baby?"



Matt looked at him sharply. Baby? He\'d never called him \'baby\' before. "No, I woke up."



"The dawn\'s coming up." Mello stood, walked along the table and leapt off it. Matt started to sit up on his elbows, but the sharp pain in his ribs kept him down. "Stop pretending they\'re broken, we\'ve already established that they\'re not." He took Matt\'s boots off, then yanked his jeans and boxers down together so roughly that the redhead slid along the table towards him. His arms twisted around his torso and he groaned. "Matt, has it occurred to you how painful it\'s going to be on your ribs, when I turn you over and fuck you hard on this table?"



"Yes." Matt whimpered.



"Yeah, me too." Mello smirked and turned him. He smacked against the wood with a low scream. Mello patted his back. "There, there."



"You motherfucking bastard!"



"Was that, \'thank you for hurting me, master\'?"



"Yes. It was the Spanish pronunciation." Matt breathed.



"Thought it might be." Mello laughed, undoing his laces. The leather of his belt drifted across Matt\'s back, but didn\'t connect. It was thrown to one side and Mello dragged Matt down so he was bent over the table, not lying on it. Fingers caressed the bruising from behind, leaving a trail of goosebumps on the hot, clammy flesh. "How\'s that feel?"



"What?" Matt peered behind himself, wincing and frowning. "Which bit of me?"



"All of it. Tell me." Mello\'s fingers traced patterns on his back. "I gag you too often. I want to hear what you\'re going through right now."



"We\'re having a conversation?" Matt gasped. "Now?"



"No, a monologue. Describe it for me, Matty."



"What?" Matt asked again, but was cut off with a shriek as Mello entered him and the force ricochetted through his ribs. "About fucking time on your dick... oh God! This has got to be more than bruised. My head aches, well the cut does, but... fuck... Mell, I can\'t talk now."



"Talk to me." Mello emphasized the point with a hard thrust, his hands on Matt\'s shoulders to hold him down.



"You sadistic fucker." Matt gulped. "Yes, it\'s painful. My side and my wrist mainly. My wrist is underneath me because my arm is round my ribs and you\'re rocking it into the table. My, fuck, do that again Mell... wow!" He sank into the sensation, until Mello slowed to a stop. Matt found him leaning across to look at him, a quizzical expression on his face. "Oh God! Yes, my ribs really hurt, like hot poker between them, everytime I move and..." Mello sped up again. "Yes! That\'s good. That\'s... doesn\'t matter about my ribs and my... head... wrist... your hands hot on my shoul... God! Yes, just like that." He heard Mello snicker. "I can\'t have a coherent conversation! I can hardly think!"



"You\'re doing great." Mello sounded so collected, it belied the hardness of him and the heat of him at Matt\'s rear.



"You\'re ramming my dick against the table, it goes under but sometimes..." Matt gasped out.



"Sometimes what?" Mello\'s hands left his shoulder, coolness rushing in where he\'d been. The hands pressed down his muscles into the dip of his waist and onto the small of his back. Suddenly his hips were grasped and the thrusting became harder, harsher, deeper. "Talk to me, Matty."



"Oh God!"



"Nothing?" Mello laughed, but he was panting too now. Matt just gurgled and groaned. "Ok." Mello pulled out and rolled Matt onto his back. A loud protest came but was stilled as Mello shimmied down and took the redhead deep into his mouth. Matt came in an instant and was pulled from the table onto the floor, where he sprawled clutching both arms to his ribs. Mello grabbed him by the collar and forced his mouth over his dick, pressing in until Matt had to either surrender or choke. He surrendered, his master guiding all movements, himself just a mouth to be there and a throat to bruise and collect. Mello leaning against the table, shuddering as he orgasmed. When he let go, Matt fell limp to the floortiles, but not unconscious. Mello laughed. "You alright?"



"Water would be nice."



Mello wandered naked over to the sink and watched the pinking of the sky as he filled the glass. The first one was tipped up from a height, washing over Matt like a waterfall. As the redhead spluttered and sat, with watering eyes, Mello handed him a pint of water to drink. Matt drank it all in one go. "Your pupils are huge now. What the fuck are you on this time?"



"I\'m speeding my tits off."



"Right." Mello rolled his eyes and refilled the glass. "Since when?"



"Since you fell asleep just outside London. I thought I was up, but obviously not. It was only a bit. Must have been pure base."



"So you\'re not coming to bed then." Mello picked up his clothes. "You\'re hurting this much even though you\'ve had speed?" He saw Matt\'s nod. "Ok, maybe you have broken one then."



"Thanks." He rose slowly, sucking in his breath. "I think I\'m going to have a bath. Have you finished with me?"



Mello smirked. "No, one more thing." He leaned across and kissed him. "You\'re gorgeous, Matty. Love you."



Matt grinned back and left him to it.