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Dog Days	By : ShinigamiMailJeevas Category: Death Note > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2200 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Suggested Listening: Give Me (a reason) by Scarlet Haze

-Part 2-

He woke with a gasp, air filling his lungs, and yet not quite. They were full, but he wasn't breathing right. He felt his chest heaving, but he couldn't taste the air or feel it hitting the back of his throat like it should have been. He panicked, hyperventilating, he was dying, he couldn't breathe, he -

"So you are awake; I thought I heard something. Stop gasping like that, it's not like you need the air. You are dead."

His diaphragm stopped contracting, frozen in place, and he stared in horror at the figure before him, the figure clad in black with those eyes of ice. Dead? Dead? Dead?

"Ok well not exactly dead, more like reanimated corpse. But you aren't going to rot or anything, which would be fucking nasty to have you in my bed if you were, and I wouldn't be Death if I couldn't pull off something as trivial as reanimation," the blond scoffed and pulled out chocolate. It sent him scrambling backwards until he hit the wall or at least something that felt like one. His eyes were wide, and all he could see was that bar.

"Oh, right. Disorientation. I probably shouldn't have this out either, death memory and all," the blond sighed in irritation, and after a quick bite of the dark confection, he stuffed it into his trousers, though where was a mystery as the leather was painted on so much that the outline of his balls were clearly visible.

The blond stood at the foot of the bed, the image of impatience as his foot tapped on the ground. He wore no shoes or socks and the pale toes that stuck out the end of the black fabric were almost a lifeline, something normal, for him to focus on. Death... he had said he was Death...

"Tell me your name when you come back to yourself. It's boring calling you 'red' in my mind, though that hair of yours is very nice." Death reached out to touch a lock of hair, and he froze again, trying to make himself disappear into the wall.

"This is probably why I never reanimate anyone, too much of a fucking hassle," the blond rolled his diamond sharp eyes and backed away, hands in the air as a gesture of peace.

He curled in on himself but kept a watchful eye on the demon until the images flying around his mind forced his eyes shut.

They were jumbled and crashed into each other as they tried to fit into his mind like a million piece jigsaw that was layered and impossibly complex. The world, dates and times, and information coursed through his mind's eye, and it was all going and moving and flying so fast he felt sick. Like he would spit up something any moment.

"Don't even think of upchucking on my fucking bed. Turn to the side if you must," the voice that was too close startled him, and his insides went to ice. "I really should have read my own damn notes on reanimating. No wonder it's been centuries since I've tried this," the blond muttered before catching on to his fear again.

Those blue eyes narrowed to impossibly small slits, and Death crawled lengthwise onto the bed, stopping only once, his face was inches away. "I will not hurt you. I wouldn't have brought you back just to torture you. It's so much easier just to torture the souls that fall down here. No waiting time."

Death straddled him, and he felt violated as those eyes wracked across his form. Only then did he notice he was naked, making him feel cold. A hand went to his forehead and kept him in place so firmly he was trembling and itching to get away.

"You are warm. You shouldn't be. Could something have gone wrong?" Death cocked his head to the side and gazed with wide, almost curious, eyes. It was a horrible sight.

"Hmm... perhaps you haven't rested enough. You've not even gotten your memories back yet. You have a strong soul to hold out for so long. I would have liked to devour it. Too bad you can't do that to reanimated souls."

"Matt," he gagged on the word that fell from his lips and couldn't believe he had forgotten his own name, never mind fulfilled Death's wish and told it to him. His thoughts were still muddled, but he knew who he was.

"Good boy." Death smirked and ran a finger down Matt's cheek taking pleasure in the shiver he caused. "I'm also known as Mello. A name for a name."

Death had a name. It was an odd thought. Death... the apocalypse. Matt's eyes widened. He remembered. He remembered everything.

Mello's smirk told him he knew Matt's thoughts, and it unsettled him. Mello removed his hand and leaned in, lips and teeth brushing against Matt's ear. "Rest up while you can because I have plans for you, such big plans."

Matt shuddered at the kiss that was planted on his neck and sat frozen, exposed, as Mello slid from his lap and off bed, walking with confident steps out the door. Matt swallowed. He would give anything to be back on that street corner of the chaotic city with his dead body rotting than in the hands of a hormonal Death with a leather fetish.

He was so literally and figuratively fucked.

.

Matt had not attempted to run, where would he go? He spent most of the first week naked in Death's bed sleeping anyway, resting as he adjusted to being alive again or something like that. It wasn't all bad, he hadn't seen Death since that day and the sheets were comfortable against his bare skin. He sometimes woke with the feeling that Death had been in the room watching him, though he couldn't explain it. Rationally he knew Death had been in there as food was left for him every time he woke, but that didn't explain the feeling of being watched.

It made Matt wonder what else had been done while he was asleep. The thought made him shudder.

Matt found, once he became adventurous enough to approach the door, that he couldn't have gotten out if he had really tried to. It was a sobering realization. He was stuck as Death's captive. With nothing to do other than wander the rooms that made up Death's quarters. He supposed he could call him Mello, but Matt never wanted to forget that he was Death, the final horseman of the apocalypse. The apocalypse that would destroy his world. The only home he had ever known.

Matt couldn't help but wish he had stayed dead, who wouldn't? And he had been brought back why, because he had the 'colors of death' and Death was fascinated by his hair color? Or something like that. It was ridiculous and unbelievable. You couldn't make up this shit.

Matt flopped back onto the bed and really wished he had something to wear other than a pair of boxers, and even then, it was only a pair he had found in the room. Nothing had been left specifically for him.

Matt had been more than a little disturbed by that fact; it seemed to suggest that Death hadn't been playing with him as he had hoped.

Matt let his eyes slip shut and tried to think of something positive in the situation and ultimately failed. Rolling over, he tugged the sheets over him and resigned himself to another agonizing day, or night or whatever it actually was, of doing absolutely nothing. Matt wanted something to do other than sleep.

Perhaps he should have specified what...

Matt had gotten up sometime later and decided to stretch as his muscles were cramping from long days of doing nothing, and just as he had started, the door swung open, and Death walked in. Matt froze mid-stretch at the look on Death's face when he noticed him.

Death had gone from impassive to something Matt would call lustful. One second he was in the doorway and in the next, he had Matt pinned to the bed, arms above his head and captured in the blond's iron grip. Matt avoided a kiss and grimaced as those lips attacked his neck instead. Matt really only began to struggle as Death's free hand went at his boxers.

"NO!" there was no way in hell he was going to let this happen. He was Death's captive, fine. He was stuck in a room with nothing to do, fine. Death fucking him, not fine. Not OK. Not fucking wanted!

"I will have you. Your opinion does not matter," Death whispered into his ear, tongue reaching out to run along Matt's neck. Matt kicked out, wiggled his body, did everything he could think of to throw that body off of him, to get him away, but none of it worked.

"Fuck off! I don't care if you are Death." Matt spat in Death's face and regretted it instantly. Those ice blue eyes narrowed, and Matt was struck in the mouth. The hit was hard, and his jaw creaked; it really felt like it had been broken. He was shell shocked and froze up. What had he expected, Death to suddenly give up because he had spit on him?

Matt hissed when his hair was grabbed painfully tight in leather covered fists and a mouth was forced over his own. Death tasted like chocolate, something poisonous and something bitter. Matt squeezed his eyes shut at the hardness that ground into his thigh and the hand that roamed over his genitals. Was this punishment for discovering the horsemen, for actually connecting the dots while he was alive?

His jaw ached and being kissed didn't make it feel any better, and he wasn't being let go. His face was kept in the position by the harsh grip on his hair, and the only way to make it through the moment was to let Death plunder his mouth. Matt felt sick, truly sick.

This kind of stuff wasn't supposed to happen...

Matt was ashamed that he hardened at Death's touch, and even though he knew rationally it was due to the stimulus, it didn't make it any better. "Good boy, get hard for me." Matt struck out instinctively and was surprised when it connected. There was a stony silence before Death slowly turned his face back to Matt.

"Fine. Have it your way." Matt's scalp cried in relief as his hair was released and Death moved off him. Panic came back full force when the boxers were tugged fully off his legs and he was flipped none-to-gently onto his stomach. "Stop-"

With a hand on his back and another positioning his uncooperative legs, Death forced his way into Matt's body. The pain was so sharp that Matt couldn't even utter a sound. Death pushed in and out of him with wild abandon and gave no care to how it might feel; Matt supposed that had been his own fault too.

"Is it good for you Matt? It's so, ah, good for me," Death teased, his lips going to kiss the parts of Matt's face he could reach. Matt sucked in a breath and gripped the sheets tightly, turning his face away from the one raping him. He couldn't move; the weight and force of Death above him was more than he could handle, and it tore at him.

He should have fought more, pleaded more or done something-

Matt pressed his face into the mattress in shame as Death spilled inside him, hips snapping against Matt as he rode out his pleasure. The second Death removed himself and the hand at his back, Matt bolted from the bed, heedless of the pain in his lower half, and locked himself in the bathroom.

He switched the water in the shower on to scalding and jumped inside. His skin burned and hurt, and he smelled like Death. He had the others scent all over him, and it was nauseating. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but no matter how hard or how much of the soap like stuff he used, the smell just wouldn't go away. The lingering scent of chocolate and sex clung to his skin, and Matt threw the soap across the room in frustration. It landed with a thump.

It wasn't fair. What the hell had he done to deserve this? He was Death's fuck toy. How thrilling!

A sob caught in his throat, and Matt clamped fingers tightly across his mouth to smother the noise that roared over even the shower. Tears and water ran hot over his cheeks, and he crumpled to the bottom of the bath, head on his knees and crying his soul out. He was alone in his misery.

Had Matt been able to see through walls, he would have noted that Mello had been standing by the door the entire time with an odd expression on his wicked lips.

.

.

Matt woke sore and tired, the water running over him lukewarm bordering on cold. He groggily sat up and winced at the pain that split through him. It took him a few tries before he could stand, but once he did, he left the shower. He didn't know what time it was, but he had to have been in there for a few good hours. Matt dried himself after finding a towel underneath the sink.

It was odd how earthly everything seemed. Bathrooms? Showers and sinks? Beds? Matt tried to focus on everything and anything other than the fact that he had been raped, but the hole in his chest suggested it would be a long time before that happened.

Hesitantly, and with the towel wrapped around him protectively, Matt left the bathroom. The room was empty. Matt let out a small sound of relief before noticing the bed. His muscles locked up.

He could feel the silk beneath him, the skin against his skin as Death brutally-

Matt shook off the memory and tried to focus on the present time, on anything but that moment. There were things on the bed. Clothing and, were those games? Did those even work where they were? Not that Matt exactly knew where he was, Hell maybe? Were they peace offerings? Or bribery?

Matt debated ignoring them, but the draft in the room had him rethink it. Just touching the fabric Matt could tell it was softer than anything on earth, even though it was his stripes and denim jeans. They felt good against his skin. The sheets on the bed were clean too, now that Matt looked at them again. Everything was clean; it was as if it hadn't happened.

Matt knew otherwise.

Matt inhaled deeply and snatched up the hand-held, and with a bit of hesitancy, a few long moments of simply staring at the bed, he climbed on it and lay with his back to the door and an arm under his head.

What he held in his hand was not plastic or metal, but it was smooth and black, and the screen gave off a clearer picture than anything Matt had ever seen. He wondered just how differently this worked than the DS and PSP on earth. What game was even in there? It was a blank package with a single number on it, 2. It gave away nothing to the contents of the game, and Matt had no choice but to trust it wasn't something boring.

It actually wasn't a game at all, though there was a note in the beginning that stated things of that sort could indeed be played on it. Death had made the little disk like package. Though Matt had thought of simply turning it off, he left it to play to the start menu. It was all about where they were.

That had Matt's attention. He had wanted to know where here was. Matt clicked on the little red arrow that blinked in the corner, and text and pictures scrolled across the screen. They were in the Underworld, what some might call Hell and some not; earth was called the Upperworld.

He shifted to get better motion from his fingers and froze at the knife pain that slid along his spine. Every little movement caused him pain, a lot of pain.

He wouldn't go through that again, Matt decided.

What that meant exactly for his stay, Matt was uncertain.

.

.

Mello had been on a mission in the Upperworld and had been thankfully gone for a while; Matt only knew this as his food had been brought in by someone other than Mello and they had graciously answered his question.

Death insisted he be called Mello. It was no longer an option.

It had been a blissfully uneventful handful of hours until the door squeaked open, and Mello emerged from the other side. Mello didn't say a word and began to strip naked, taking his time to place his leather on the chair across the room. The look Mello gave him when their eyes connected made Matt quickly put the game-like device down and away before it got broken.

Every cell in his body screamed at him to run, to bolt from the bed, to do something to get away from the monster coming towards him. Matt ignored that urge knowing nothing good would come of it. Matt didn't have a choice in this regardless so he might as well attempt to lessen his pain and perhaps even enjoy it, even if he would feel ashamed later on.

Mello nibbled on Matt's jaw, hands going under Matt's shirt and tugging it off. Mello's eyes were feral and lustful, high on whatever he had just done in battle. And it showed in the ensuing sex; Mello's thrusts were powerful and the bed, even with its heavy frame, actually creaked under the act.

Matt clung to the blond with the feeling that he was only along for the ride, a place to shove 'it' and be tossed aside after. He had known that, but it still didn't make him feel any better about it. Just as bad as having to live with the person who had raped him.

Mello grunted and stilled as he came, and Matt let go of the other, expecting him to get up and leave as he had before. However, Mello stayed there, gathering his strength, and the tone changed once Mello had rested.

Mello's actions were slow and smooth. Matt was confused by the feather light kisses and teasing touches that were placed on him. This was different from both experiences he had thus far had with the blond, and Matt didn't understand Mello's thoughts.

And though Matt didn't need air or breath as someone in the Upperworld might, the sounds and bodily responses were the same as if he did. Opening his mouth to gasp, even when not sucking in air, inflated Matt's lungs, and he let out a small shuddering sound as Mello's pale fingers gripped his cock.

Matt couldn't fathom why Mello was trying to pleasure him, didn't understand it one bit, but it did not matter to his body as it caved under the gentle ministrations and became hard, erect, and aching in its want.

His body responded of its own accord when Mello carefully rocked into him, pushing deeper with those slow thrusts than he had in the wild sex of mere minutes before. Matt tried to calm himself, to not like what Mello was doing to him, to remember why he had been afraid, but his mind had been wiped of those thoughts by the soft touches planted all across him.

Matt arched into Mello's fingers, soft and strong and leaving painless welts in their wake from too long nails. Mello attempted kissing again, and Matt was unable to deny. Mello was toxic, magnetic, and when he tried, completely irresistible.

Matt was hit by a surprise orgasm with Mello's tongue in his mouth, hand on his cock and moving painfully slow in and out of him. Mello continued with the slow pace even when it became apparent he was still hard, and it took a few more long moments for the blond to reach his own breaking point.

Mello flopped beside him on the bed afterwards, resting from the long day and two sexual acts in a row. Matt glanced at the other, pale skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and Matt only then noticed light scratches along his body where his leather wouldn't have covered it. It must have been an intense battle for Mello to get any wounds, small or otherwise.

"I'm showering first, and when you get done, I'll have dinner brought here."

Mello rolled off the bed and walked naked into the bathroom. Matt hadn't removed his eyes until the door closed behind the pale horseman.

.

.

Matt stepped hesitantly out of the room behind Mello, almost afraid that he would get shoved back inside by an unseen force. He hadn't been out of that room in a long while, Matt wasn't certain how time passed in the Underworld; he hadn't gotten that far into the disk that Mello had made for him. He could have been there for months already even if it had only seemed like weeks.

There was a lot of information on the disk, but Matt had only just started in on the reasons why the Underworld and Upperworld were at odds, never mind looking for the explanation of time differences.

"Walk with me?" Mello motioned, and Matt took small steps until he was at the blond's side rather than behind him. The hallway outside the room was vast and could have easily fit two cars lengthwise. All the doors, few and far apart, belonged to other highly ranked individuals apparently. Each floor of the building they were in had an area like that, just for accommodations.

"These are not your typical hallways," Mello told him, a bar of chocolate between his teeth as he did so. Matt had long since noticed the difference between the chocolate Mello ate. The ones with the black wrappers and bone white lettering were the ones that he could kill with; any other ones were Mello just eating chocolate. The sight still made Matt nervous.

"What do you mean? They look normal, if not a little large." Matt found it a little easier to speak up while he was distracted by taking in details.

"If you are ever in a hurry and in dire need, these hallways will take you to your destination almost instantly."

Matt's brows creased. How was that even possible? Matt nodded regardless. Obviously Mello wasn't in a hurry since the hallway stretched on and on as far as Matt could see, branching off in different directions as they walked.

"I think you will enjoy where we are going," Mello told him, looking very smug about it. Mello almost seemed like an ordinary person at the moment, and it was messing with Matt's head and his perception of Death. It was almost as if Mello was making an effort to be nice, to control how he usually acted. Had Mello been showing him a mask before, a personality he showed to the outside world? Matt couldn't wrap his mind around that thought.

No, Death was violent and cruel and only had ulterior motives. Nothing more, nothing less. Right...?

Two large and imposing doors eventually appeared to Mello's right and that was where they stopped. The doors were made of cherry or some other dark wood and had intricate designs carved into them. Mello pushed inward and they opened up into a bookworm's heaven. Shelves upon shelves of books and more than three levels of the same. It made the largest library in the Upperworld look like a child's toy model. "Wow."

"Indeed."

Matt hesitantly left Mello's side to browse book titles. He ran his fingers along the spines, picking some up at random and carefully putting them back when the subject matter bored him. Matt stopped and gawked as titles he knew stared him in the face. He glanced at Mello who was smirking at him.

"Humans can tell stories. You might be surprised by how many we have from them in here," Mello shrugged. With one last look at Matt, Mello snatched up a book whose title was highly suggestive and walked off into the center of the ground floor where chairs and couches were set up to sit in. Mello was letting him do as he pleased, and Matt wasn't about to take the opportunity for granted.

Though nostalgia piqued him, Matt ignored the recognizable 'human' writers and instead browsed the 'notable writers of this millennium' section. It was a very large section. He selected only one book, not knowing if he was allowed to have more than one or if he could even take it from the library at all.

Mello was curled up on one end of a leather couch reading a book, shoes kicked to the ground and pale toes flexing and digging into the black leather every few seconds. Matt bit his lip, and with a small noise of discontent, he settled on the other end of the couch.

Mello looked up from his book and smiled at him. Not smirk or grin, but a smile. Seeing Death smile should have been frightening, instead it was beautiful.

.

.

Matt ran the soap gently across his skin as he sat in the bath, the room steaming up nicely from the hot water. The heat soothed his sore muscles and eased the tiredness from his body. Sex with Mello always left him in dire need of a bath, but oddly, not for the same reasons as before. Matt no longer retreated into the bathroom and locked the door for safety.

Matt sniffed at his skin and sighed as chocolate, among their things, wafted up from his arm. He still couldn't get rid of Mello's smell. Matt found that he really wasn't bothered by it that much anymore. He still didn't like it, but it was tolerable. It didn't appear to be going away any time soon so he might as well get used to it... that was all.

Matt rinsed himself off and tried to ignore the burning in his gut when he thought of the blond.

.

.

Matt rolled over and breathed in deeply, still weirded out that he couldn't feel the air in his lungs. Something was keeping him awake, stealing his attention away from sleep, and it was bugging him. With a small amount of annoyance, Matt cracked his eyes open to meet Mello's icy ones.

Mello had been watching him sleep.

Instead of being freaked out, Matt was indifferent. It was just proof of something Matt had suspected all along anyway. Mello's face lit up in a smirk, and something tightened in Matt's stomach. "Were you having a nice dream?"

Matt was momentarily distracted from the question as Mello ran a slender finger along Matt's groin and over an erection Matt hadn't noticed he had. He flinched as the finger stroked him gently, his body already longing for the touch that he knew so well by now.

Matt didn't remember the dream, but if it was anything similar to what he was experiencing in reality, then Matt was unsurprised that he gotten hard.

"I think we can afford to sleep in late." Mello gave a demon's smirk and crawled atop Matt to give him pleasure no dream could ever hope to.

Matt had no complaints.

.

.

Matt was in the library by himself reading off the hand-held just for a change of scenery. He wasn't able to concentrate though. Mello was gone more and more recently as things heated up in the Upperworld. Apparently the 'humans' were fighting back. Still loosing, but not making it easy on the horsemen anymore.

Mello had left around sixteen hours ago, and Matt hadn't seen him since. It wasn't that Matt was worried about him, but something just didn't feel right. Matt couldn't place what it was, but it nagged at him, and even with a distraction, the feeling lingered in the back of his mind.

Something was happening, or going to happen, and Matt couldn't tell if it was good or not.

Flopping lengthwise on the couch, Matt closed his eyes but all he could see behind those lids were flashes of battle and blond hair.

.

.

"Who the fuck do they think they are, stealing my goddamn rosary!" Mello stormed through the door, startling Matt with his sudden appearance when Matt knew the blond should have been in the Upperworld creating havoc for the 'humans'. Matt guessed he really couldn't call himself human anymore as he was sort-of-but-not-really-dead.

What had caught his attention though was Mello's rage over his rosary, and Matt was brought back to a conversation he'd had with Mello not too long ago where he had asked Mello what was so special about those beads that he wore.

Mello's answer had been unexpected to Matt who had thought it was mockery or a mere decoration. Mello's rosary was his power, a balance that kept his very essence in check. Any horseman without their 'balance' would quickly wither and disappear. And now the rosary was gone.

Mello's rage suddenly vanished and he collapsed to his knees, heaving up bile. From what else Mello had said, the only reason he wasn't gone already was because he had made it back to the Underworld in time. The Underworld was made up of a dark and very pure supernatural energy that gave them all existence. It was the only thing keeping Mello from ceasing to exist; much like a string holding onto a kite in heavy wind.

With hesitancy Matt moved over to the shaking blond and picked him up from the floor, depositing him on the bed. Mello was a mess. Suddenly wheezing and turning feverish, wounds were cropping up all across his body. Matt had never seen Mello like that before.

It freaked him out, scared him, shook Matt to his core.

Death without his 'balance', his rosary, would destroy himself. Death was most dangerous to himself once his full power was let loose without anything to control it, to channel it. Mello would not only destroy himself but everything in existence once he 'disappeared,' or died. It was impossible to have life without Death.

Death could exist on his own as he and the other horsemen were above such coexistence laws, which was why humanity's destruction meant little to them; that did not mean they didn't have their own weaknesses.

Matt watched uneasily as Mello gasped and writhed on the bed, obviously in pain; blood slid out from underneath his closed eyelids, and at the agonized scream Mello let loose, Matt felt sick. His stomach bottomed out, and the sounds made his chest hurt so much he really thought he could die of a heart-attack.

Matt took one last look and fled the room.

It was told to him by Mello that in this vast place made of hallways that those hallways would shift to your needs if they were great enough, if you wanted it enough. Matt had never needed anything from this place, he had all the time he could ever want, and Mello had never been in a hurry while with him unless it was to get his clothes off.

But as Matt stepped foot onto the marble-like flooring, his world shifted. Doors flew past him and everything around him flashed faster and faster as though he were using a jet pack to speed along even though he was only running in place. Doorways appeared and disappeared off to the side until Matt was suddenly running though a high arch and into a gathering of people.

It was an absolute madhouse.

News of Death's predicament had already made it out, and everyone was frantically scrambling to get the rosary back. War suddenly looked Matt's way with his wide blood red eyes and grinned, covertly pointing with a long boney finger off to the other side of the room. Matt had only seen Beyond in passing, and Mello had always said to stay clear of him if possible.

Yet Matt followed his silent instruction without hesitation, without thinking. No one was paying much attention to him as they counseled the remaining horsemen in strategy.

It was a room Matt had never seen but had always been told by Mello to pay attention for since he was never supposed to enter it, especially not alone.

It was a coveted and sacred room unneeding of locks or security simply for the fact that the power held within could burn a being to ash if a threat was detected. That room was where the horsemen 'items' were kept.

Matt took in the five pedestals; only four horsemen ever existed at a single time. Pestilence, War, Famine and Death. Oddly, there were two items in the room. It meant Misa, Famine, had been destroyed as her locket was sitting atop the last pedestal to the left.

There was only one Death, had only ever been one...

Matt took a deep breath and snatched up the item off the only other non-empty pedestal. It was a black feather, but in his hands it changed into a set of green lensed goggles. There was only one Death and the humans couldn't have him!

Matt placed the goggles over his eyes and walked out of the room as Conquest.

-End Part 2-

AN: one more part left. Then this baby is done!
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Dog Days