All The Way Here

When the door opened, Matt leapt startled from his semi-comatose slumber before the monitors. He had barely seen another human being for a week and had only left these four walls twice in that time. Lulled from his hermit state, he scrambled to grab his semi-automatic and to turn in his seat. By then, of course, the intruder was already well within the room. "Fuck! You made me jump!"



"You should have been paying attention." Mello licked at the opened chocolate bar in his hand. Despite the state of the room and the incompetent welcome, Mello seemed smugly delighted with life. There was a permament smirk dancing across his mouth and his eyes shone with victory. He looked more serenely dangerous than when he raged. Mello stepped over room service trays and leads, reaching to pull open the blinds at the windows. The sunset had long since passed over Hudson Bay, but the lights of the city blazed turning night into a pseudo-day. He opened some windows while he was there, releasing blasts of icy air into the stifled room. Matt shivered and reached for his jacket. "I wouldn't start putting clothes on, Matty. It will only waste time in five minutes when I take them all off again."



Matt just couldn't stop staring at him. A cascade of emotions bubbled and fought for supremacy, as the evidence of his senses fuelled them with data. Mello was alive - relief; after a week of mostly no contact - deep down resentment; in a world gone mad - depression and exasperation; he now had some company, after long days of bored isolation - excitement; but with little new to tell him and what he had was bad - anxiety and trepidation; but Mello looked so mindblowingly sexy, that he was tempted to forego the hug he craved and aim straight for the hot sex... he craved a hug? Matt settled penultimately on an expression of blank confusion, followed immediately afterwards by hysterical laughter. What was he doing processing the information of his own feelings like it was part of a programme's coding?



"Funny?" Mello turned from the window and started to switch on some lights. "You're showing all the hallmarks of someone who needs to get out more." He held up a photograph and the world shifted on its axis.



"You found Near." Matt gasped, walking across to inspect the child Mello gazing back with a Mona Lisa smile. "Weren't you cute..." Awed, he looked up into adult's scarred, beautiful, intoxicating version of this face. "You still are... erm... Near?"



"Close as I am to you." Triumph blazed in Mello's eyes and unspoken were the words, 'I beat the number one.' It was power, Matt decided, not danger that emitted from the blond in waves. "He's still the same little shit he always was."



"You spoke with him?"



"I was standing next to him, what do you think?" Mello shook his head. "How close did you get to finding him?"



"I've only just confirmed he's in New York and I'm only 40% certain on that one." Matt ran his fingers though scruffy red hair. "What now?" He didn't wait for Mello to answer, he just stepped forward and claimed his hug. "I missed you."



Mello frowned slightly at this new, sentimental Matt, but held him close anyway. "Now I move to the second phase of my plan. I'm going to catch Kira before he does." A little twitch of his shoulder, as if that was self-evident. "What have you got for me?"



Matt puffed, breaking away, and reached for a notebook. "Where do you want me to start?"



Mello sniggered. "Not quite what I had in mind, but go for it anyway. Anything that won't wait until tomorrow?" He laid his hand on Matt's backside, that nearly maniacal smile growing as the younger man became flustered. "Don't let me put you off."



Matt dropped the notebook back onto the table and raised both hands to the top of his head, as if he was trying to stop it flying off. "I've hacked the national police systems of twenty-four countries; most of the municipal... don't look at me like that." He brought his elbows down over his ears. "What do you want from me? You're in a bloody strange mood and you left here, days ago, acting like this was the, erm... God! I can't even speak!" Head bowed, so his entire face disappeared beneath a wall of red hair. "Are we saving the world or having sex now? Have you shot Near? What are you waiting for me to do next, Mello?"



"Right now, I'm mostly having fun watching you." Mello's hand reached to take one of Matt's in his and drew it away. He revealed a whole section of cheekbone and part of the goggles. Matt's eyes were tightly closed. "I haven't seen you get this ruffled since A-levels. It was amusing then too."



Matt took a deep breath and stood up straight, pulling his hand free of Mello's, he sought out and lit up a cigarette. "Well, I'm not thirteen anymore." He inhaled. "Let's start with the sex."



"Ok." Mello licked his chocolate. "But no, I didn't shoot Near." The flash of something between conquest and guilt across his features informed Matt that that had been a close call. "He wasn't worth it." The chocolate came off with a crack in his mouth. "Besides, it will be interesting to see him submit to me when I catch Kira."



Matt tensed, but reminded himself that Mello was just in a mindgames mood. He'd meant nothing by it. It wasn't sexual. It was intellectual. Then he risked a look up at Mello and the thoughts flew around again. "Right."



"I've come to the conclusion that you're stoned." Mello cocked his head, surveying him with a haughtily bemused smile. "And if you're not, then can you just hold onto the thought you're having right now and share it please?"



"I'm not stoned. You're fucking with my mind."



"I'm not. You are." Mello's smile seemed slightly patronising now. "Honestly, I'm not."



"Is it sexual or intellectual? I mean with me. Like when I was speaking with Linda, erm, shit need to tell you about something there. Yeah and we were talking the legacy of growing up there and inferiority complexes and you have to keep beating each other. Like fucking rats in a lab, like I can't just have a conversation with her without, erm, like a big competition all the God damned time! Then you come in and you were number one, well, and Near was, and you had to climb over us to get there. You talk about submission and it's not enough. Like beating each other, it's got to be, erm, like watching your back and, well..." Matt stared at Mello. "With me, is it, I mean I know you care even if you don't, well, you do show... oh! You know what I mean."



"I might need a minute to work it out." Mello replied, wryly. "For what it's worth, fucking you has nothing to do with The Wammy House and everything to do with great sex, with someone who can turn me on just by looking at me. By the way, take your clothes off while I'm talking to you please." He licked the chocolate. "Intellectual? You lost me a bit there, but I think you were asking if I thought you were stupid. No. Yours is probably the only mind in the world worthy of meeting mine in a partnership. Why do you ask, if you're just going to stand there blushing and not stripping like you've been told?"



"But was it, is it, strategy?" Matt blinked. "Only Linda thought it was. She thought it was holding off the opposition from below with friendship, concentrating on the opposition above with..."





"What?" Finally Mello lost that supercilious smile and the air that everything was highly entertaining. It slunk away beneath an pyroclastic flow of fury. "Linda thought what?" In the ensuing rant, Matt quietly listened, smoked and stripped, until he was standing naked waiting for the pacing to stop. Still raging, Mello stopped listing every point that rendered Linda unfit to comment upon anything and snapped, "How have you spoken with her? Have you got a 'phone number?" Mello's eyes still flashed warning signals, but seemed to defocus, registering Matt's state of undress. The blond sounded more steady as he asked, "And what did you think?"




"I just wondered if it was strategy, because if you have planned it so I'm subdued both mind and body, I..."





"Fuck you." Mello whipped up his gun again and strode away towards the door, pulling his hood up as he went.





"... would find it a real turn on." Matt had, at least, succeeded in making Mello stop. The blond just stood there, his back to the room, tension fixing his slender shoulders taut. "Whether it's true or not. Really."



There was a loaded pause, as Mello evidently processed this latest twist in the conversation, then he looked back over his shoulder. His face was dark beneath hood and hair, his eyes in shadow. Matt was kneeling demurely on the carpet, his hands behind his back as if he was already bound. The blond came to his decision. "We'll discuss this again when you're not being a fucked up whore."



"Ok." Matt smirked back, much more in control now.



Mello noted that and turned on his heels, bearing down upon the redhead. He grabbed a hand full of hair, yanking Matt's head back, then kissing him with bruising lips. The tip of his boot rested lightly against Matt's balls. But the slight was evidently still niggling at Mello. He was mentally picking at it, like it was a scab. His head rose inches away from Matt's face, though his hair was still held. "Did you believe Linda? Did you think I tried to force you into submission like that?"



Matt was breathing a little faster, his throat bared, "I can't recall a single moment when you were ever trying to dominate me." A huge grin broke across his features, green eyes peering up seductively through half-closed lids. "Can you?"



The buried hurt and rampant rage in Mello's eyes gave way to a dawning understanding. Perhaps more than Matt had himself. The faintest of smiles, then he hissed, "Yes, Matt, that's precisely what happened. A war on two fronts never works. So I took you and wrapped you around my little finger." Mello's eyes glinted. "I fucked you in every way that you and your petty little life could be fucked and you..." His grip on Matt's hair tightened, "loved it."




A tiny shudder passed through Matt's frame and his gaze flickered the thrill with uncertainty. He held his breath. Mello licked Matt's lips, his tongue snapping out to force them apart, but instead of a kiss, the blond withdrew, reaching back to slap the redhead across the face until he sprawled on the floor. Shock and fear crossed Matt's beautiful face, but he was already growing hard. "Fuck." He gasped, but Mello didn't give him time to reassemble, before his arms were forced high up his back and the handcuffs clasped his wrists in an icy, steel bond.




Mello stalked across the room, his footsteps heavy, ominous, and closed the windows with a loud bang. Matt peeped out beneath the long strands of his fringe, trying to ascertain what was going to happen next. This felt different. It felt far more real than usual and Matt's heart pounded correspondently. He couldn't read what Mello was going to do next nor his actual state of mind. He was taking his time returning, casting off his jacket to reveal wiry muscles and that black waistcoat.




Just when it seemed that he was ignoring the man on the floor, Mello stomped back across. One foot planted firmly down, an inch from Matt's face, Mello bent in a creak of leather and pushed him over. Matt flat on his back, hands pressing painfully into his shoulderblades, stared up as the blond undid his own belt and pulled it off. The skull key-chain dangled down like a portent of the ultimate threat and Matt found himself strangely fascinated by it, until it rose suddenly and the belt gave down with a harsh thwack onto his naked chest. Just once, but it stung like Hell.




"Get up." Mello demanded, a gloved finger tracing a line from Matt's forehead to his cheek. It pushed the hair away and gave Matt an unfettered view of his lover's reckless smile. He started to, but it was harder than it looked from his position, with the blond blocking much of the space above him. He made it, but was pushed and held down onto his knees the second he tried to stand. "No, you're good down there." Mello positioned Matt's face at his groin, so that his vision was filled with the laces covering his crotch. "With your teeth." There was a neat bow, with soon feel free as Matt bit an edge and pulled. He attempted the rest with gloved hands holding the back of his head in place. "Heh." Mello sniggered, looming above. "Keep going."




The laces eventually loosened enough that the leather trousers could be prised from Mello's abdomen and down to the floor. His dick stiffened already, slapping Matt's cheeks. He took it in his mouth, deep throating as Mello spoke, distant but his words piercing. "Look at you, you fucking slut. I don't need to dominate you, you just roll over and submit by nature. It was way too easy to knock you out of the race. I just had to show an interest and you were already on your knees, doing what you do best. Suck me, Matty, suck me." Mello came, shooting into the back of Matt's throat with a loud moan. "Fuck, yes."




Languidly, he reached down to push back Matt's hair, roughly enough to dislodge him. Tears soaked Matt's cheeks, as he gasped for breath and balance. Mello smirked, his gaze penetrating, searching. "Having fun?" Breathless and looking scared, Matt nodded. "Oh good. Even knowing what a bastard I am, you'd come to get fucked again. Won't you?"




"Yes." Matt spluttered, eyes confused and flashing from the blond to the floor. Mello leaned across and half pulled, half shoved him onto the bed. It was too brutal and Matt bounced across and off the other side with a cracking thud. There was a sharp intake of breath and a smothered cry. Mello crawled over and peered down, reaching to touch his shoulder. Matt shrieked back, "Watari!"




Everything changed in an instant. Mello slipped off the bed and crouched beside him. "What's happened?"




Matt bit back tears. The first time ever he had used their safeword and he hadn't planned it, even as the sickening pain ripped through him. He couldn't believe that he even remembered it, let alone Mello. It was a throwback from teenage wrestling bouts and not even part of their adulthood. A few breaths later and it was merely a dull ache. "Sorry."




"Where?" Mello's glove was off, he was using his bare fingers to explore Matt's skull feeling for bumps and blood. "Don't be sorry, I told you to say it for a reason and now is the reason. What's happened?"




"My wrist hurt." Matt gulped, feeling foolish. Mello rolled him over and felt around the handcuffs. He peered down, checking the colour of his skin there. It was hard to tell anything in the shade from the bed and the fact that they were already reddened didn't help with any prognosis. "It's not so bad now. UnWatari?"




Mello laughed, "That's a word?" He sat properly on the carpet and pulled Matt up, so he was leaning, still bound, across Mello's lap. He bent and kissed the well of Matt's tears. "Want me to untie you?"




Matt blinked back, green eyes bright against his ashen face. "No." A little smile. "Honestly, I think I just jarred it."




"You'd better not have broken it. I need you typing." Mello kissed him on the lips, tracing the marks his hand had raised on his lover's cheek. "You're so fucking gorgeous."




Matt blushed deeply, unused to such random compliments, though Mello's watchfulness conveyed the message often enough. A huge smile transformed his features and he reached to claim a kiss himself. "So are you." His awed gaze soaked in the whole of Mello's face, especially the scarred side which he knew the blond was stoically and silently absolutely insecure about. "You're beautiful."




"Thank you." Mello stroked his hair, then, straining, practically lifted Matt off himself and onto the bed. "There will be no UnWatari..." he sniggered, "until I've had a good look at your wrist. Now turn over." Matt did as he was told and Mello set him wriggling his fingers, while he squeezed the bone feeling for abnormalities. "No, you're right, it's not broken. Does it still hurt?"




"Not bad." Matt had moved his head, squinting towards the table trying to spot his cigarettes. He noticed that Mello had caught him at it and gave a small, guilty half-smile. "I still want to be fucked."




"You will be." Mello unfurled feline-like and strutted across to collect their needs: chocolate, cigarettes and handcuff keys. "And this is only a temporary reprieve, trust me, because in a few minutes time I'm going to fuck you until you bleed." He freed Matt from the steel, but retained his hand, inspecting it carefully before releasing it. "You're alright. Wimp."




"Ha ha." Matt said rather than sounded, touching the angry purpling strip across his chest, where Mello's belt had connected. "Fuck you."




Mello winked and snapped off some chocolate. "Matty, for the record..." He paused, as if testing his words. They came out confidentally enough. "That Linda doesn't half talk some shit."




"I know." Matt smoked contently. "And anyway, there's a very thin line between using someone as a tool and working together. I'm happy with either."