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.

Matt tries not to think that Mello is there, and that Mello is watching, and especially that Mello might get mad or that he might think stuff, because L asked him to pay attention and to relax and to focus and right now Matt is trying to do this the way he understands L wants him to, so even though his face is flushed and his hands are trembling, he goes on, trying as much as he can to just calm down, calm down.

Fingers wrapped around the older boy’s wrists, he leads L down to the carpet, because that’s all he can think of doing and because there isn’t a bed or a laundry machine or a kitchen counter and because he thinks they have done it on the floor a few times anyway.

“Is this okay?”

He asks quietly, looking down at L for approval, and L nods, telling him it’s fine and urging him to proceed, so, running his hands nervously through his hair, Matt moves closer, and then reaches for his belt but then stops, thinking, and then, biting his lips slowly, brings one knee over L’s slender figure and, with tense gentleness, gazes down at the boy lying beneath him, all patience and introspection.

“So then, um,” Matt continues, “then, I mean, if he uh, if he wants to—so—that is—you—you want to, right—“

L smiles.

“That’s right, I want to.”

And for some reason, Matt blushes so furiously that, turning his head away, he actually raises one hand to cover his face, and, smiling sheepishly, he laughs,

“Wow, uh, um, okay, yeah, so…”

He coughs, brushing his bangs back again, and, fighting for composure, looks back down at L, and he continues very quietly, completely embarrassed,

“Okay so, so now we, uh—“

So L’s shirt is already off, and the small cut Matt had made is now dry and dark, a very thin line that may well have been a scratch, but suddenly Matt feels very stupid and embarrassed that he made it and wonders what in the hell he was thinking, but L turns his face back to his and replies,

“Don’t worry about that, Matt-kun,” and his fingers trace the edge of Matt’s lower lip, “it was my idea to bring them out, wasn’t it?”

The sharps, that is.

Matt nods slowly.

“Just keep going,” L reminds him, and so Matt tries not to think about it, and, instead, tries to figure out what it is exactly that he and Mello do together.

He can’t help rolling his eyes in Mello’s direction when, sliding backward away from L’s waist, he tugs at the trousers that the boy had since pulled back up, and then he turns his gaze back to his hands’ work and watches in quiet fascination as the long, slender legs fold elegantly while Matt pulls the cloth away.

“Oh, um,” he murmurs, returning to the older boy, “I guess it’s not really exactly like that, I—“

He rubs at his lips with the palm of his hand for a few moments and then, returning back to L, who must be pretty cold, he thinks, and who is really very white and thin, Matt leans over him very carefully and, just before kissing him, he stops inches away from his face and, searching his eyes, asks,

“You must be cold—are you cold?”

“A little.”

“Oh—oh, that, I’m sorry, I—“ he mumbles, and trying to figure out what to do, begins raising his head away, but then L’s hand comes sliding against the back of his neck and very gently pulls him closer, and, rising to his elbows, he takes Matt’s lips.

“It’s fine,” he murmurs between kisses, “just keep going.”

“I’m—sorry,” Matt whispers back, and it feels nice, he thinks, it really does feel nice, and it actually does help him relax, and, as he leans closer, head buried in L’s neck, he continues kissing him, and he thinks that maybe he really can do this.

It’s like with Mello, he tells himself, just pretend like you’re with Mello.

So he closes his eyes and inhales quietly and goes on, fingers trembling as they slide through L’s silky hair and then he kisses his chest and kisses his shoulder and his hand and Mello watches in curious fascination as Matt’s long fingers again slide under the white elastic at L’s flat stomach and pull it away, and Mello smiles inwardly because he understands, because Matt remembers that Mello likes it that way, when he’s completely naked but Matt is still fully clothed, and actually sometimes Mello likes it when they both still have most of their clothes on, but this is because Mello wears leather and he likes it when Matt fucks him while he’s wearing leather.

But Mello is made of fire and Mello can take it, but Matt isn’t so sure about L, because L is white and slender and delicate and really there doesn’t seem to be the smallest bit of muscle on his entire body, and suddenly Matt is afraid that he would break him if he wasn’t careful, and he tries to remember when the last time was that he slept with someone who wasn’t Mello and whether he had ever been with someone so fragile.

And, strangely enough, as he watches on, Mello finds himself thinking just the same thing.

He’s so fragile. Don’t hurt him.

He wonders what Kira was like. Of course, Kira wanted to kill L, but L said he was manipulative and seductive, so he must not have been harsh. He must have been gentle.

And suddenly, Mello wonders what he looked like and whether he was beautiful.

L is beautiful, Mello thinks, he’s always thought L was beautiful, and also Matt is beautiful, and aside from being hopelessly aroused and infinitely frustrated, and also aside from how the layers upon layers of very tight leather bands and metal chains are gnawing into his naked skin, all in all he really isn’t all that miserable.

Jealous, no, not really jealous—more crushed that he can’t play with them, too.

They seem to be playing nice.

Really, it’s very interesting to watch, Mello smiles sadly because he knows there is this gentleness in Matt, this tentative softness that has always exasperated and annoyed him, but he thinks that were he allowed to have a go at L, he would act just the same, or at least try to, because for all his love and undying admiration, Mello really is made of fire and he really does have to force himself to be gentle.

It’s beautiful, really, Matt’s hair sliding against L’s Thighs, and Mello knows what that feels like and he knows it’s very soft and nice and what’s also very nice is the serene expression on L’s face as he urges Matt to continue, fingers brushing against his cheek and quiet voice murmuring that yes, keep going, and that’s good, and go ahead, go on.

Then after several minutes, at last Matt withdraws, backing a bit and brushing the back of his hand against his wet lips, and, tongue slowly tracing the edge of his mouth, murmurs,

“Okay, so—so that was okay—“

L smiles, eyes closing softly,

“Yes, that was very nice. Matt-kun shouldn’t be so scared—“

He gasps, because that’s when Matt has taken his legs a little too much like how he does it to Mello, and it’s not that he meant to but Maybe it was a bit rough, and so then right away Matt stops, and, looking down in a panic, his hands grow tighter on L’s thighs and that hurts more, and before Matt can formulate the right expression of regret, L murmurs with a certain amount of misery that it’s fine, just, just please not so tight, and not with your nails, and—and good, thank you, that’s better.

“I’m sorry,” Matt manages at last, and he knows that L is tired of hearing him murmur and mumble and apologize, so, biting his lip slowly, he tries instead to go on.

“Okay, so—“ he says, looking down at L, “so—“

He looks down at himself and then, still holding L’s thigh, he reaches for his belt with his other hand, and, without looking up, explains quietly,

“so usually I just, uh—I just leave everything on, and—“

He undoes the clasp with one hand and then the fly and despite how nervous and embarrassed and just generally freaked out he feels, thank God, oh, thank God he can still get it up, and really that’s not something he’s ever had a problem with, and if anything he’s had problems getting it to go back down, but still, still, okay, thank God.

Mello can’t see exactly when Matt is doing it. He can’t see exactly what it’s like or just how Matt goes about it, but he can see him bent attentively over L’s naked figure, and he can see Matt’s hair drape over his eyes as he looks downward and his arm moving and he can see the composure in L’s face and his lips parting ever so slightly in the most quiet sound of inspiration, and suddenly Mello catches himself thinking not how sexy and beautiful L is but rather that he wishes he was with Matt and that he was the one who was—

“It’s in.”


“Does—it hurt?”

Matt kicks himself mentally for asking something so stupid. It’s not like it’s his first time. And it’s not like L has no concept of pain – he’s an expert at that sort of thing.

“A little.”




So he doesn’t ask anything more and instead he keeps going, and he really tries hard to be very gentle, and it becomes more and more clear to him that it’s difficult to pretend that he’s doing this with Mello because L isn’t like Mello and L doesn’t act like Mello and L doesn’t taste like Mello, and yet, and yet somehow that’s okay, and somehow that’s fine and he finds that

it doesn’t make him like Mello any less,

and suddenly he stops, because suddenly it makes sense, and suddenly he understands something he never thought he could understand.

To be continued…

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