My Own Way

"Matt." Mello strode into the front room a day earlier than he was due and immediately walked into the kitchen. "It\'s a flying visit. I need stitches."



The redhead had paused his game and started to follow him in. He ran now, arriving at Mello\'s side as the blond was just shrugging out of his jacket. "What\'s up?" But he could see it now, a deep slash across Mello\'s forearm. "How did that happen?" He peered down to look.



Mello\'s other arm reached behind Matt\'s head to force him closer. Their lips met, hot, intense, passionate, forestalling any more questions. Those blue eyes had darkened in warning, as Matt was released again, and the Mafioso growled, "Can you stitch me up or not?"



Matt nodded, turning away so that his lover could see neither the anxiety or the instant arousal, both caused by Mello\'s demeanour right now. He fished in the drawer until he found a small sewing kit, liberated from a hotel room once and still in its cellophane wrapper. A hob was ignited and the needle held in the gas flame until it turned black. Matt licked the end of the red cotton and carefully threaded it into the eye of the needle. Deep breaths and concentration had stilled his body. Only now did he turn back.



Mello was watching him, practically without blinking, glowering at some inner thoughts or reminiscences. His eyes blazed through the shadows cast by the fall of his fringe. He looked like some kind of animal, coiled and ready to pounce, though his body was perfectly still. His bared arm was ready and waiting on the table. Matt hesitated. Though this man was his oldest friend, there was that about him which rang out discord in the sense, triggering instinctual dread. Mello hissed, "What are you waiting for? Get it over with."



"I\'m trying to think what to give you as an anaesthetic." Matt bluffed rapidly. He opened the First Aid box and took out the sterile wipes.



Mello snorted bitterly, "I\'m on enough pain-killers. I think I\'ll cope. Just do it."



A chair was pulled up beside the table and Matt sat in it. He bent over his work, but wiping clean the blood was a doomed procedure. More welled up the instant it was clear. He dumped the wipes into a pile on the table and tied a knot in the cotton. Matt had never stitched up another human being before, but he\'d imagined it would be like pushing through leather, hard and needing to be forced. It wasn\'t. The needle punctured Mello\'s skin like a hot knife through butter. After the initial sharp intake of breath, Mello never uttered a sound. When Matt glanced up, it was to see that the blond had turned away. He hurried in his task, producing tight, neat butterfly stitches the length of the gash and knotting the end. "It\'s over now. Let me just clean it up." He felt Mello\'s nodding in the slight jerk of his shoulder. This time the sterile wipe did its job. "Want a hot chocolate or something before you go again?"



Mello peered down his arm, staring blankly at the stitches. They apparently passed muster, because he pulled his arm away and bend it closer to his face, while he gently poked at the wound. He sighed and rose, his jacket falling from its tenuous hold on his other arm and landing on the floor. He didn\'t respond verbally, but reached out to grab Matt\'s arm, pulling the redhead behind him into the front room, through the passageway and into the bedroom. Matt stumbled along behind him, finally gaining his balance as they stopped by the bank of computers. "How\'s that worm coming along? Are we in yet?"



"Yes, feeding data as..."



"Good." Mello interrupted, pushing him backwards onto the bed. "Clothes off and quickly. I\'m supposed to be meeting someone," He glanced at the clock on one of the monitors, "quarter of an hour ago."



Matt blinked. He shook his head slowly and breathed, "You\'re so romantic."



"This isn\'t love, Matt." Mello stifled a yawn and strode around the bed to open the drawer. He glanced irritably back at the redhead, then snapped, "Strip! And lube yourself ready." As Matt did as he was told, Mello took out the lubricant and two pairs of handcuffs. He disappeared back into the front room and, a few moments later, Matt overheard a telephone conversation whereby Mello was explaining that he was going to be a little late, but was on his way. He was self-consciously naked, waiting on the bed, when the blond returned. "That\'s better."



Mello knelt on the bed, then straddled Matt, his leather trousers creaking as he reached to fit the first set of handcuffs. Only when both arms were stretched back and secured to the headboard did Mello look down at him. Matt smiled weakly. "You\'re sure you can fit me into your schedule?"



There was a smirk, which finally brightened the blond\'s features. Mello\'s gaze drank in the upper part of Matt\'s body and a gloved hand traced from his shoulder to his heart. "I took a lunch-break."



"They must be pissing you off."



"Sssh." Mello\'s head slowly descended to suck at his neck, leaving lovebites along his jugular and on his jaw. It was all possession, but the latter was precisely placed where not even Matt\'s high collar would hide it if he went out. His hand gripped, just under Matt\'s armpit, a leather encased thumb stroking at his nipple, while the other hand held his head in place. Mello kissed him, conveying with it his own urgent need.



The blond was still dressed. Mello sat back up suddenly, still straddling the redhead as he unhooked his belt and pulled at the laces of his trousers. He moved backwards, placing first one knee, then the other between Matt\'s legs, shoving them apart to make room. Mello was already half-erect, as he wriggled out of the leather, abandoning his trousers at his knees. Matt watched him stroke himself, hardening himself at the sight. The fact that he felt used here, exposed and spread, while Mello hurried, still mostly dressed, just added to the arousal. He met his lover\'s gaze and smiled. "But you\'re still coming home tomorrow?"



"Hopefully." Mello replied dismissively, as he reached out to capture Matt\'s legs and to wrap them around his waist. "Yes. Yes, I\'ll be back tomorrow." His thumbs pulled apart Matt\'s cheeks and he positioned him carefully, pushing in with no more preparation than the lubricant provided. "God, yes!" He sighed with relief, then, "You\'re really starting to loosen up in here."



Matt wasn\'t sure whether to be feel complimented or degraded. His whole body was tingling with sensation and he forced his muscles to relax against the invasive penetration. Discomfort faded quickly into pleasure. His eyes started to close, but he opened them wide again, wanting to watch Mello do this, so casually, hurried like dirty sex in an alleyway, despite it being in their bedroom. The animalistic veneer had washed from his visage and Mello was such a pretty man. In other circumstances, he might have looked cherubic, but not now, with his face flushed and his healing wounds exposed, as they completed their progress into mere scarring, without the dressings. His panting and lust-filled concentration were as intoxicating as the waves of ecstasy caused with each thrust; Mello pounding Matt\'s prostrate with a ferocious relentlessness. Low moans were ripped from his throat without his brain consciously forming them, increasing as Mello screamed his name and came in a flood of warmth inside him.



It didn\'t take much to bring Matt to the same level, already dripping pre-cum like a fountain when Mello extracted himself. The blond bent to take him in his mouth and seconds later it was all over, Mello swallowing every drop. It was hard to imagine that he had once been a choirboy.



"Right!" Mello sprang back almost immediately, pulling up his trousers and tucking himself back inside. Matt couldn\'t see how he could do that. His own limbs were as weak and shaky as they always were after sex, but Mello seemed to just flick some inner switch and be rearing to move onto the next thing. "Thank you for doing my stitches." He snatched up the keys from the bedside drawer and quickly unfastened his lover. "Give me a kiss. I have to go."



Matt closed his eyes, rubbing life back into his wrists and feeling the rushing of blood along the length of his arms. "It was no problem."



"Matt!" Mello frowned, standing beside the bed. "Kiss!" Matt opened his eyes and made to stir, but Mello had had enough of waiting. He bent over, but the intended peck on the lips turned into a longer kiss, loving and strangely tender. Mello pulled away eventually. "Got to go." He dashed out of the room, detouring into the front room to retrieve his jacket, then paused at the door to look back inside. Matt looked up, a \'what now?\' forming on his lips, but was surprised to find Mello smiling fondly back. There was a quick wink, then the blond was gone, back to whatever blood-stained, criminal activities engaged his days away, and haunted his time at home. "Bye." He rasped from the hallway.



"Bye Mello." Matt called and struggled for the words again to persuade him to stay, stop this and find another way to combat Kira. But he failed now, as he had before, and he heard the front door closing before he even spoke. "See you tomorrow."