Poisoned Rationality

Mello stepped back inspecting the wall of monitors. It had taken five minutes of moving it, stepping back, moving it again and so on, before it mirrored precisely the wall of monitors directly opposite. One for the house cameras, one for the rest of the world. He plugged in the extension lead and half of the internal feeds flickered into perfect surveillance. Light spilled strangely upon him, trapped between them, and Mello frowned. Maybe it would have been better to have just one wall of monitors after all.



Not wanting to have another argument with himself about precise positioning, Mello turned and surveyed the rest of the room. His study. His own room. Sunlight pouring in from the window on his own desk. His own shelves awaiting files. His own bookcases already displaying his favourite books; the rest would be next door just as soon as they had constructed the rows of shelves in his personal library. Mello smiled. Peace was not an emotion he was altogether familiar with, but he decided that he could get used to it. Already he could feel his shattered nerves healing, just being here. In their own place.



Yes, the second wall of monitors would have to move back beside the first, even if it did defuse some of the natural daylight.



Mello stepped out onto the landing and knocked on the door opposite. There was no response, so Mello opened it and peered inside. Monitors, the twins of his own, covered a single wall, but nothing else was unpacked. The games were still in their boxes, along with the equipment to play them. The whole room felt unlived in. Mello frowned. He had thought that this was where Matt was, imprinting his personality on his study, just as Mello was doing over the way. The unsettling thought penetrated that, in fact, right now the room probably was reflecting his lover\'s nature; closed down and empty. A glance at the monitors gave no clue to what he was doing instead. "Matt!" Mello bellowed, but no answering call came. He peered out of the window, overlooking the front trackway, then returned to his own study to survey the backyard. Matt\'s car was out there, but no sign of the man himself. Mello frowned at the monitors. They had already failed in their job. "Matt!" His mind flew through the areas yet unmonitored. The bathrooms, the downstairs toilet, the forest.



Mello wandered out, touching bannisters with a contented smile on his face, listening to the sounds of silence. He stepped into the kitchen, opening the fridge for another bar of chocolate and took it outside. The early spring sun warming his bones and penetrating deeper. This was their home. Despite all the hovels and make-do hideouts, despite Wammy\'s and the flat, this felt like their first home. It was tangible, something which Mello hadn\'t realised how much he needed. Out in the yard now, with the wind in the trees creating a constant hushing and the scent of pine and lavendar carried upon it. He glanced up and there was a lot of blue between the clouds. A perfect day over their house.



Then Mello saw him. Matt was sitting on the roof, without a safety rope to catch him if he fell, smoking a cigarette and staring out into space. Anxiety pricked and, if Mello was honest, resentment too, that the redhead was spoiling this moment with suicidal stupidity. "What the fuck are you doing up there?" He yelled. Matt snapped into attentiveness, looking down. His expression was hidden. His face was just a mop of red hair, orange goggles and a high collar and nothing could be read from that. By way of reply, he raised a hand with a camera in it, then his mouth sneaked out of his jacket long enough to take a drag on his cigarette. Mello erupted. "Your legs still go when you\'re climbing the stairs and you thought it would be a good idea to climb onto the fucking roof! You don\'t even tell me you\'re there, so I can hold the ladders! I was going to fit those! For fuck\'s sake, are you trying to get yourself killed? Arsehole!" Eyes blazed, but the object of his ire seemed utterly unfazed, just perched on the roof-tiles, exhaling smoke. "And if you break your bloody neck, what am I supposed to do then?" He knew that Matt had replied, but the wind took the words out of audible range. All he saw was the smirk. "What was that?" Mello demanded. "Shout up!"



"I said," Matt called, standing up and causing Mello\'s heart to leap into his mouth, "there\'s still time to quickly take some life insurance out on me."



"Sit the fuck down and keep very still. I\'m coming up there." Mello searched for the ladder and found none. By the time he had done a curcuit of the house, Matt was on his knees stapling down cables. "How did you get...?" Then he saw the open attic window. "Oh, you stupid, fucking..." Mello hurtled into the house and up two flights of stairs, into what once were servants\' quarters. A smaller staircase led into the attic, a room which spanned the length and width of the house and screamed out for an exciting use. A box stood open beneath a window, its contents spilled out over the floorboards. Outside came the sound of hammering. Mello leapt up and swung his legs out. The wind was a lot stronger and chillier up here. The redhead was six foot away, his only point of balance being his boots against the roughness of the roofing tiles. "Ok, Matt, I\'m not joking anymore. Give me your hand."



"Mell, calm down. I\'m good."



"No! You are not good." Mello\'s mind whipped through terrible imaginings. "Has it occurred to you that you might just be maimed instead of killed?" Matt flashed him a long-suffering look. It irritated Mello to the core. "You call yourself a fucking genius and one tiny slip and you will be smashed on the ground, what, 50, 60 feet below? Give me your hand."



"You wanted the cameras set up asap." Matt replied quietly. "In your last rant."



"Give me your fucking hand and that is an order!" Mello screamed. He shook with temper and the hand he extended was clenched. "Mail, do it." Matt had gone very still. His breathing was ragged. He placed his hand on a tile and carefully slid a boot closer to the window. Mello\'s eyes widened, watching, his vision seeing it slipping, but it held Matt\'s weight. A hand stretched out and Mello leaned to his arm\'s span to grab it. Relief flooded through as he pulled Matt towards himself and safety. Mello\'s arm hooked around Matt and he glared into his face. "Your pupils are really fucking dilated." He twisted himself back through the window, not releasing his armlock on his lover until the redhead was through the window too. "I can\'t watch you twenty-four hours a day. I can\'t keep you safe."



Matt pulled away, panic flashing across his features. "I can keep myself safe."



Mello\'s fist rose and plunged towards his lover. It caught him in the stomach, but before he could bend over it, Mello had him pressed up the wall. "You can\'t! And this has nothing to do with what happened at the flat! I\'m sane! I\'m fucking sane! I\'m sane, Matt!" Tears cascaded down his face. "I\'m working really hard to make this work for us and you are popping pills like there\'s no tomorrow and pulling stunts like that!" He caught Matt\'s pale face in his hands, using his whole body to keep him ensnared. "This has got to stop. This is what..." Mello deflated suddenly, closing his eyes.



"This is what tipped you over the edge in the first place." Matt supplied the ending to the sentence. "I know, Mello. Don\'t you think I don\'t know?"



Mello exhaled, sharply. "It wasn\'t your fault. It was a lot of things." His lips pursed. "What now? I kiss you and it\'s all patched over again? Forget about it until next time? Watch us slowly growing apart because both of us are blaming ourselves for everything that ever happened?" He released Matt and walked away. "I feel like only one of us is trying." Angrily swiping away his tears, Mello turned away, pacing the length of the attic just to put some physical distance between them. He needed to calm down, so not to look at Matt with bitterness. It was not his fault. Neither of them were precisely to blame, though guilt still pricked. He heard Matt slide down the wall and the sound of his lighter flashing. He had obviously lit his cigarette, but Matt carried on playing with the lighter. Sparking it over and over again. Mello grit his teeth and turned around. Matt\'s knees were drawn up to his chin, fire dancing periodically above his thumb. As soon as he caught Mello looking, Matt\'s

arm extended in his direction, his middle finger erect. Mello smiled conciliatory. "I decided I wanted to kiss and make up after all."



"Tough." Matt growled. He retracted his finger and carried on playing with his lighter. "You only want to kiss me because you\'ve hit me. If you don\'t turn that into sex, it falls into the category of domestic violence. It\'s a conscience thing."



"You really think I\'d be that shallow?"



"Yes."



"Really?" Mello took a couple of steps forward. "Matt, I\'m a lot of things, but shallow isn\'t one of them. I wouldn\'t just kiss you to salve my conscience."



"Yeah, you\'re boring me now." Matt stood up and pushed past Mello to descend the ladder.



"Shallow and boring?" Mello\'s eyes narrowed, as he tried to analyse what was happening.



"Yes." Matt called back from the floor below. "And really shit in bed." His footsteps receded into the floors below.



Mello caught up with him in the kitchen. As Matt inspected the contents of the fridge, the blond arranged himself in the doorway. "So I\'m shallow, boring and shit in bed, am I?" Mello smirked. Matt hid his own smile behind the fridge door. "And yet you keep coming back for more."



"Well," Matt sniffed the milk, then carried it to the worktop, "a shag\'s a shag at the end of the day."

He poured himself a glass and drank it in one go. "You\'re still here?"



"Shallow, boring and shit in bed." Mello mused

, crossing the distance and snaking his arms around Matt\'s waist from behind. His head peered over his shoulder. "I\'ll have my kiss now."



Matt hid his mouth under his collar again, but Mello could tell from his cheekbones that he was smiling. "I\'m busy." He turned away. "Now I\'ve got to find some rope as well as put the cameras up."



"Yes, why don\'t you find some rope?" Mello\'s hand sidled downwards. "Then I will have my kiss." Matt tried to twist away, but Mello held him tighter. He hung against Mello\'s arm, waiting for it to be removed so he could go on. "Well, you remind me of Near."



Green eyes flashed back underneath the orange goggles in a moment of incredulity. Then Matt shrugged. "Is that why you\'re groping me?"



"What?" Mello gasped and Matt nearly broke free. "Not until I\'ve had my kiss. And no, I meant..." He stopped as Matt started laughing against him. "What now?"



"Just trying to imagine what Nate would do if you did this to him. He wouldn\'t have a fucking clue."



Mello sighed and relaxed his arms. Matt shuffled out and took a step away, but was held by the back of his collar. Mello slithered around him, one boot rising and coming to rest on a cupboard doorknob. It blocked the redhead\'s progress, as surely as the arm against the worktop hindered his retreat. A self-satisfied smirk broke out across Mello\'s face, but, as he leaned for a kiss, Matt\'s mouth lowered under the rim of his collar. "This is the first time ever I\'ve known you play hard to get. It\'s very amusing." Matt blinked at him and the tip of his nose disappeared too. "All I have to do is unzip this." Mello\'s fingers found the zipper, but he didn\'t pull it down. "Then what would you do?"



Matt reached underneath and squeezed Mello\'s gentials through the leather. The blond stepped back in shock and Matt walked on past him. He lit a cigarette as he rounded the kitchen table and flashed the birdie again, as he exited through the back door. Mello watched in surprise, then had to smother back laughter. It occurred to him that he was going to follow Matt again, but decided that it didn\'t matter. He watched the redhead stop to survey the eaves, then saunter off into his new workshop. Mello followed him into it, clicking shut the Yale lock behind him and turning the deadlock on. Matt lifted a box onto the workbench and started rummaging through, as if he was alone. "Keep it up, Mell. I\'m just taking notes for when I call the Samaritans."



"And tell them what?"



"That you hit me."



"Oh." Mello came closer. "Like this?" He back-handed Matt across the face and threw him to the floor. Spidering his legs over him, he sat on his stomach. "I never did ask you. What was it you didn\'t like about having a belt around your neck? Only I\'m considering a proper collar for you to show everyone that you\'re mine."



Matt held his face through his collar, his words coming out muffled. "The fact that you were strangling me."



"So it\'s not having something around your neck per se?" Mello stroked the red hair back and kissed the exposed forehead. "Am I pissing you off yet, Matty?"



"No and," He hestitated, "possibly."



Mello reached beneath his own thigh and slid his hand into Matt\'s pocket. He extracted the bottle of anti-depressants and read the label. "Two a day. Not two an hour. You can come to me for your medication from now on." He held them out of reach. "If you don\'t stop, you can also come to me for your cigarettes." Matt\'s grasping hand was arrested in mid-air. "It\'s starting to affect your judgment."



"So you\'re going to beat me up and take them off me."



"No." Mello replied with a sigh. "I\'m going to beat you up, fuck you and take them off you." Matt\'s head rose from his collar and Mello swooped in for the kiss. "Owned!" He grinned his triumph, as the slap mark became disguised beneath a deep blush. "I love how you can still blush when I kiss you. After all these years."



"I\'m not in the mood." Matt retorted.



"You\'re not in the mood?" Mello\'s eyes opened wide. "I never thought I\'d live to see the day when the biggest whore to come out of Wammy\'s wasn\'t in the mood." His eyes narrowed. "Ok." He rolled off Matt and shrugged. "I\'ll leave you to your... whatever it is you\'re doing." He left the workshop and was halfway across the yard, when the opening of a door made him turn. Matt was leaning in the doorway of his workshop with his jacket shed. "Yes?"



"What sort of collar?" Matt asked and smirked.