It Matters

It was still dark when Mello woke. He was alone in their bed and the temperature had dipped. They'd had maybe one, two hours sleep. Long hours talking, mainly Matt steadying his conscience against the events of that week and random spikes of things from the past. Though it seemed to them both that he was mostly coming to terms with finally cracking under it. He'd thought himself more infallible than that.



Later, emotionally spent and exhausted, he'd invited Mello to purge his soul too. To speak of the things which, even between themselves, had hitherto remained unspoken. Like the massacre of all of those people; like the unblinking killing of people at the club; like murder. Mello had shrugged it away with a curl of his lip, he'd kill a dozen more if it meant Matt was retrieved from harm. Then he'd taken Matt in his arms and their love-making had never been so tame, so tenderly slow. They had fallen asleep still entwined.



The beeping of the game and occasional mutterings of 'pwned' and 'damn' sounded from the front room. The only light was from the monitor, before which Matt appeared returned to his normal self. Mello watched him from the doorway, ticking off attributes from a mental checklist of Mattness. He was mostly back. "Come to bed."



"I will in a bit." There was a sharp intake of breath, as something happened in-game. "Finishing this level."



Mello arched an eyebrow, snapping off a square of chocolate from the bar in his hand. Matt hadn't looked up once and a slight awkwardness snagged in the air between them. But it was cold and goosebumps rose on Mello's limbs; he felt he had been patient enough. He crossed the distance between them and laid a proprietary hand on the redhead's shoulder. Mello crouched, his breath warm on the back of Matt's neck; an audible crack sounded right beside his ear, as another piece of chocolate was broken off. "Come to bed."



"I can't sleep."



"Then don't. I'm not telling you again. Come to bed."



"I hate it when you're like this..." Matt began, but Mello's mouth was suddenly covering his Adam's apple, grazing it with his teeth. "Oh?" He saved the game, recognising the way that this was going. He wasn't sure that he wanted to. Something still felt out of sync and he considered saying so. But Mello was standing again, dragging Matt up with him. "Ok, I get the hint!"



"You can bring me some hot chocolate in." Mello strode away towards their bedroom, beautiful, but so exasperating. Matt blinked behind his orange goggles, but headed anyway to the kitchen. It didn't stop him slamming down the mug as he made it though. Then he caught sight of himself, reflected in the darkened window pane and had to look away.



The lamp was on in their room, soft light illuminating Mello posing on the bed. He nodded his approval of the hot chocolate, reaching out to claim it. But when Matt went to lie down beside him, Mello held up a hand. "No... you got dressed. I want to see you strip."



"What?" Matt was alright. He was going to be alright, he knew that; but he still felt bruised inside from all the crying. He just didn't want to do this. He wanted to heal and be content again. He was tired. He wanted to be left alone. But Mello's smile was feral, so all protests faded before they reached his lips. "Ok, but I'm not doing a dance routine over it."



"You will if I tell you to." Mello's eyes narrowed, thin slashes of blazing blue peeping out over the top of his hot chocolate. His tongue snaked out to lap the sweet brown liquid inside. Not usually self-conscious, Matt stared at the floor for a few seconds, before pulling up his shirt quickly. An aura of deep embarrassment radiated out. Mello took a gulp of chocolate. "You're hardly seducing me, Matty."



"I don't normally need to." He was undoing his trousers half-turned away.



It was too much for Mello, who gulped down the last of the hot chocolate, and threw the mug to the floor. He clambered across the bed and stood appraisingly before his lover, using the one inch height difference to its full advantage. Matt had frozen in the act of pulling his waistband over his hips, so Mello took over. Grabbing Matt by the wrists, he used his own weight to topple him onto the bed, then dragged the trousers off him. Straddling his waist, Mello held him down, then leaned in to speak inches from his face.



"Jeevas, when I got hurt bad," Mello flicked his blond fringe away from his facial scar, "you were there. You didn't judge me. You just let me get on with it. You made me feel gorgeous again. Now I don't know what got into you this afternoon and I don't care. You are mine and I'm not letting a few tears change that."



Matt nodded, startled, not sure how to react.

"I know."



"I've tried shouting at you and I've tried molly-coddling you. You're alright, but you've let something really stupid get into your brain. So let me demonstrate what I mean by 'you're mine', shall I?" He raised a hand and Matt flinched, expecting a punch or a slap at least, but Mello was just scrowling at him. He jabbed a long finger just short of Matt's nose. "Lie very still. I'll be back."



Mello pushed himself off the bed and clattered through the contents of a small bag. He was soon back, handcuffs catching the light of the lamp and glinting back. With a practiced movement, he soon had Matt secured to the bed, arms stretched above him, the width of their double bed. He left each hand with a kiss on the palm, then straddled him again. "Alright?"



"Yes..." Matt's voice was tight, his gaze unsure behind the goggles. "Got something stupid in my brain, check."



Mello rolled his eyes, dismissively, "I'll leave you to work out what that is. But one thing... one clue I'll give you. You're getting better by the second."



Mello kissed every cut and bruise on Matt's face, then worked his way down to his neck. Kissing the soft flesh there, tousling it with his long hair. Despite the cuffs, it seemed like it was going to be gentle again, until Mello reached his ear. There he took the lobe between his teeth and bit, his hand simultaneously dancing across Matt's torso to find and twist a nipple. Matt whimpered, tension hardening every muscle, but he didn't speak.



Rising briefly with a smirk, Mello slithered back across, his attention firmly on Matt's chest and belly. Again there were kisses upon every injury, his skin teased with tinkling hair, but all the time his nipple was being squeezed and the mass of hair at his groin lightly pulled. Mello kicked apart his legs and moved on down. Hands caressed Matt's hips and arse, moving to stroke the tender skin of his inner thigh. He didn't touch the genitals, though he noted, with approval, that there was an obvious sign of arousal there. Instead he continued down, kissing dozens of times a huge bruise on Matt's shin, even as he pulled individual hairs from the other leg. Finally, he reached Matt's feet, kissing, rubbing and trailing along the underfoot with his tongue. He lifted one foot and, peering upwards impishly, sucked hard upon one big toe, while his nails sank into another.



"Are we relaxed yet, Matty?" Mello raised his eyebrows and Matt nodded slowly. "I'm sorry," he said in a tone which wasn't at all apologetic, "I can't hear you."



"Fuck me already."



Mello gripped both ankles and shoved them apart and up, over his shoulders. Edging upwards, on his knees, with no hint that one ached still from the earlier jarring, he leered through the shadows.

"You appear to be under the misapprehension that you're in charge right now."



Matt's eyes flashed open behind that curtain of goggles and red hair. Now there was a glimpse of fear, but it was the right sort. Not the mind failing fear of this evening, but a healthy trepidation about what precisely the blond above him had in mind. It was quickly covered by that trademark smirk and, anyway, his already erect dick had just hardened just that little bit more.



Mello inched forward, predatory, arms wrapped around Matt's thighs, holding them in place. The movement forced his legs higher, further apart; it was bending Matt's back, pulling his arse away from the quilt, positioning it right where Mello wanted it to be. Mello leaned all the way over, his breath inches from his lover's swollen lips, his eyes blazing seductively through messy blond hair.





"I could do whatever I want with you now and you..." Mello kissed him hard, breaking open the cut on Matt's lip again, "you would let me." He blinked slowly, beaming like the cat with all the cream. "Decisions. Decisions."





"Let me help you decide." Matt rasped, then yelled into his lover's face. "Fucking fuck me, you prick-teasing wanker!"





Mello bit back laughter, sitting up and tipping back his head to cover the humour in his expression. There was a mood to maintain here. He told the ceiling,

"You know, Matty, here I was thinking that I won't do what I really, really want to do... and that's unusual for me, because any other time if I want it, I get it, as you well know." He stretched out a long, thin arm luxuriously, yet wiry muscles maintained the position of Matt's knee bent over his shoulder. "I thought to myself, Mello, for once in your life show some compassion. You've hurt him enough this week, don't turn him over and tan his arse until he screams; don't... oh fuck it!" His arm flew down and slapped Matt across the face with a force that made him see stars.





Matt coughed out air and blood into the pillow, but his side-wards glance upwards held more daring than trepidation. He smiled and Mello cupped his chin to bring him back facing him. Despite the situation, the violence and the lust, Mello was control. Combustible by nature, Matt nontheless understood that he was watching for clues. He stared up at the blond, beautiful man above him and just said,
"Ow."





"You're such a fucked up whore, Matt."





"Who's talking...?" He was silenced by a second slap, which sent his head reeling in the opposite direction. He barely had time to clear his mouth and nose of blood, let alone breathe, before Mello had him bent like a contortionist, leaning in for a hard, fast kiss. The metallic taste of blood mixed in with the omnipresent taste of chocolate. On the verge of choking, world blackening through lack of oxygen, Matt felt one leg being released and a coldness spread outside across his backside and spine. Mello sat back and Matt gasped for air, spitting out fluids, panting again.





Matt hadn't properly got a lungful of pure air before Mello was entering him, with harsh, deep thrusts. He hadn't even prepared him with fingers first, but had squirted in the lube by touch alone. Matt's legs were gathered up again and it was such exquisite pain. The redhead relaxed despite it, muscles surrendering in sheer helplessness. It was all sensation, his body overwhelmed with it, so that Matt felt like he was floating somewhere above, anchored solely by the throbbing of his gentials. Mello's face miles above him locked in concentration; Matt unable to utter a single word in pleading, because he was too far gone. It was all he could do to remember to carry on breathing.





Then Mello touched him and it was like fireworks denotating. Matt's eyes opened wide and he found his tongue,
"Fucking God, Mello! Have me! Just..." Just what? He didn't know, but fortunately Mello did. The bastard was laughing, even as he did it. Matt came in an explosion of feeling; euphoric, inarticulate amazingness. He'd never called out at this moment before, but it was impossible not to. Matt practically howled. It took an age to recede, but Mello must have come too, because he was just staring down at him with the most debauched, smug smile of conquest. Matt just sighed, closed his eyes and sank back in a perfect state of trance relaxation.





Mello released his legs and let them smack down onto the bed. He licked his way back up Matt's prone body, until he reached his face. Lying fully on top of him, he licked Matt's lips until they opened for a kiss. Then he just lay there until it occurred to both of them that it was still actually quite cold in that room.





"I suppose you want me to remove the handcuffs." Mello commented wryly, as if it was of no consequence to him either way.





"I'm easy." Matt managed, though the sweat was drying on his body and the only warmth anywhere came from Mello. "Whatever you want."





"Still want to get that level?"





"Nope." Matt's voice was dreamy. "Unless you want me to."





"Shower?"





"Doubt if I could move."





Mello chuckled, but rolled off him all the same. There was a sound of metal on metal, then Matt's stiff, frozen arms fell to the pillows, there to attempt proper blood circulation again.

"Well, you're going to have to move, because I want more hot chocolate."





"Right." Matt didn't move immediately. It was only when he felt Mello's warm breath on his cheek again that he risked opening an eye. At the look on his lover's face, he made a gargantuan effort to roll away and off the bed. Once he hit the floor, it seemed that his motor reactions could obey the will of his brain again. "One hot chocolate coming up."





"I'll hear if the PS3 goes on again." Mello called after him. Then he stared into the shadowed room with a self-satisfied snicker at a job well done.