Matt x Mello

BY : Genevieve
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 8296
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

For the first half hour that they work at binding Mello, Matt is starting to think it’s kind of fun. It’s fun because it’s new and interesting and because this is the real deal and L really seems to know what he’s doing, to the point that Matt really comes to understand that perhaps Mello knew what he was talking about when first he asked this specifically from L.

And also, it’s fun because Mello really wanted it, and his naked body is beautiful and warm under the binds and Matt likes touching him while he’s fastening them on.

Mello is strangely quiet and well-behaved all throughout, and Matt knows it’s because he’s fascinated and infinitely amused and, for once, content and consoled, and because he trusts that L will not let him down in this regard.

But as time continues to pass and they bring out layer after layer of binds and straps and chains, Matt begins to wonder why in the world this much stuff is necessary and part of him actually begins to fear that they’ve gotten in over their heads.

It’s gone beyond cutely kinky and into disturbingly realistic as Matt slowly begins to grasp that, one, this really is the real deal, and, two, this is what Mello wanted.

He’s not messing around.

He thinks this kind of equipment is enough to scare the living crap out of any suspect before the cops even began to—

“Hey, L,” Matt says quietly, looking up from his hands’ work and blinking slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Uh—we’re not—that is—he—“

“We’re not what?”

Matt coughs and tries again. “What—what kind of stuff are we…that is…what are we gonna do to him?”

“Not we. You.”

“Right, right…uh…what…um…”

L smiles kindly, his hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“Mello-kun is not a real suspect,” he says, looking into Matt’s eyes, “and even though he wants something very bad, we’re not going to do our worst.”

“I can—“ Mello starts, but then stops himself because he realizes he’s arguing with L, but the older boy regards him with serious composure.

“Mello,” he says, coming to stare directly at him, “no matter how much you like pain, you won’t like electric burns and trauma.”

“Oh my God,” Matt whispers, “you guys do electric burns…?!”

Mello laughs behind his hair. “Tell Matt what kind of criminals you’ve had here.”

But L merely smiles sadly.

“Please don’t bother yourselves with that,” he says, “tonight we do this with love and not with any real intent to harm.”

He turns to face Matt. “And, regardless,” he smiles, “electric burns aren’t something we do very often.”

Matt nods silently, and he realizes that, actually, this isn’t what’s bothering him. There was something very unsetting about the way L spoke just then, something eerily human that was almost raw emotion and despair, and, for the next several minutes, he can’t take his eyes off the older boy, wondering just who exactly he was and what exactly happened at some point and what sort of bleeding scars he’s so good at distancing himself from.

When at last they finish with the braces and straps, there comes a series of ropes and chains and L explains to Matt that usually they don’t do it like that and that usually they tie the suspect to a chair or a board instead, and when Matt begins to ask why they’re doing that part differently, L raises his eyebrows and smiles, ruffling Matt’s hair and taking the cigarette from his lips.

“I think you’ll understand,” he says, staring at the burning stub and then putting it out.

He begins walking out of the room, explaining that there’s something else he’s going to bring, and when he closes the door, Matt all but runs up to Mello, who is naked and bound and tied with long chains stretching laterally toward the walls and the ceiling and also the floor, and he stares at him for several seconds before throwing his arms around him and burying his head at the crook of his neck.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” Mello asks, agitated, and Matt thinks he’s going to start crying again, and his only consolation about Mello being so tightly secured is that he knows that otherwise he’d probably push him off or hit him, so Matt actually does start crying.

“I’m sorry, boss,” he murmurs, tightening his grip around Mello’s waist, “this is really creeping me out, and—“

“Jesus Christ, Matt,” Mello hisses, “you really are a pussy. He hasn’t even done anything yet!”

“They do electric burns!”

“L works with the FBI and stuff, Matt!”

“I don’t like that you’re all…all…like that…” Matt rolls his eyes to stare at all the chains and straps and God knows what else.

“Look, Matt,” Mello hisses, “L asked you to be here because if he did this to me alone, you’d totally freak out. I mean—I mean, probably more than you’re already freaking out, I guess…”

“I thought he was gonna tie you up to a bed and whip you or something! But this—“

Mello rolls his eyes, and because he can’t move, he merely leans his head forward and kisses Matt, because maybe that would calm him the fuck down.

It sort of does, and so Mello continues, smiling against Matt’s lips and whispering,

“Cmere.”

When L walks back in, they’ve been making out for several minutes, and he patiently waits for them to stop before speaking again.

“Please come here for a moment, Matt,” L says, unclasping a second briefcase, and, detangling himself from Mello, Matt joins him at the desk.

“So like I said – no electrocution, and also no neurotoxins and no burns and nothing like that.”

He raises his eyes to Matt’s face.

“We don’t typically tie our suspects to a bed and whip them,” he smiles ever-so-slightly, “but if it’s of any comfort to you—“

He opens the briefcase and pulls out what does in fact look like a whip, and Matt actually laughs.

“Are you saying you’ve actually used this before?”

L smiles.

“Not on suspects, no.”

And before Matt can merrily respond to what that sounded like it implied, “or on anyone under any circumstance.”

His face grows a bit more serious when he opens the second compartment.

“These are sterile sharps,” he says, “and this sort of thing we have used before.” He explains to Matt how they are to be used and warns him that the goal is not to cut deep or to injure and that, as with burns, one must be very careful as not to cause infection and, after watching Matt’s expression for a few moments, at last he adds that maybe he should just stick to the whip and not try using the sharps at all.

Mello watches with quiet amusement. He can still taste Matt on his lips and his cheeks are moist and he can’t rub at them, and also he can’t touch himself and he can’t even really turn his head around very far and so he continues watching L and Matt speaking to each other and Matt seeming nervous and freaked out and L trying to console him and Matt trying as politely as he can to tell L that he doesn’t want to do this to Mello and he doesn’t want to do that to Mello and L trying to explain to Matt that they’re not really going to do anything serious and finally Mello sighs and calls out,

“Just fucking kiss already.”

Very slowly, both of them turn their heads in his direction, L with one hand on the whip and one hand on Matt’s shoulder, and Matt with his eyes big and confused and fingers running through his hair.

Neither of them speaks for a long time, and, staring back at Mello, Matt doesn’t flinch when he feels L’s hand on his cheek, and for the first few moments, he doesn’t take his eyes off Mello, until finally he feels his eyelashes fluttering shut and begins kissing back.


To be continued...



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