Matt x Mello

BY : Genevieve
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 8281
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.

When at last Mello releases him, Matt falls backward against the mattress, limp hand reaching blindly for the nightstand and fishing a cigarette from the box there. He can hear Mello sliding out of his pants and tossing them on the floor, and, holding the lit cigarette between his lips, he reaches for what turns out to be Mello's wrist.

"Cmere."

He tugs hard and Mello nearly trips, but Matt catches him with strength Mello didn't realize he had, and then he pulls him to his chest. Before the boy can curse at him or ask him what the hell he's doing, Matt sinks his teeth into the skin at Mello's thigh, cigarette dangling from in-between his fingers.

"You'll burn me with that, you idiot."

"No, I won't."

Mello's thighs are slick with sweat and the hot aftertaste of sex, and even though Matt's tongue feels very nice against him, Mello grows impatient and starts batting him away.

"I gotta shower and I have a ton of work to finish."

"What are you working on, anyway," Matt raises his head from in-between Mello's legs long enough to ask.

"None of your business."

Matt's tongue runs against his lower lip, hands tight against the boy's thighs.

"This isn't for L again, is it?"

"I said it's none of your business."

"You sure work hard for that guy."

Mello punches him again, freeing himself at last, and, rubbing the back of his hand against the tender place on his cheek where he suffered the blow, Matt watches him walk away.

Too bad. Matt liked how Mello tasted, and making him mad was almost worth the abuse. He leans back against the pillow, listening to the gradual creak of the bathroom door and soon after the sound of water running.

He slides off the bed and, resting the cigarette in the ashtray, pulls his shirt over his head.

He sniffs at it; ew. Sweaty.

Tossing it to the floor, he begins making his way out of the room, then pushes the bathroom door open and, his back to the shower, lifts the toilet seat up and unzips.

"There's no shampoo left," comes Mello's voice from behind him.

"Just use soap."

"How often do you wash your hair with soap?"

"Whenever I run out of shampoo."

"That explains a lot."

"Glad I could help," Matt replies merrily, flushing the water and zipping his fly back up.

He turns to Mello and inspects him slowly. "Let me know when you're finished so I can shower too. And wash my hair with soap."

"Freaking wash your hands, man."

Matt raises his eyebrows and looks at the older boy with amusement. Placing his cigarette back between his lips, he leans in and slaps Mello hard on the ass, then promptly runs out of the room.

"Motherfucker!" he can hear Mello yelling, then comes the wet sound of footsteps slapping down the hallway floor and before Matt can get very far, Mello has grabbed him from behind, tripping him and smashing him against the living room carpet and then painfully pulling his arms behind his back.

"Do that again and you're dead."

"I'm sorry," Matt smirks, but really Mello is twisting his arm too painfully for him to keep smiling.

"Are you jealous that I'm doing work for L?"

"What?"

"Are you?"

Matt cringes as Mello twists his arm harder.

"I—ugh—fuck, Mello, stop that…"

"Answer me."

"Ow! Jesus, yeah, okay, yes."

Silence. Matt breathes in relief as Mello eases up on his arm, but the boy doesn't release him yet.

"Can't say I blame you," Mello leans in closer, wet hair brushing against Matt's bare shoulder and dripping down, "you know I'd fuck him if I could."

Matt laughs dryly.

"Yeah, I know."

He doesn't like where this is going. It wouldn't be so bad if Mello was doing this merely to annoy him; Matt knows better. It hurts because Mello really means it.

"You know I'd let him do anything he wanted," Mello breathes against the shell of Matt's ear, lips brushing against stray locks of hair.

"Pff," Matt exhales despite himself, "too bad for you he doesn't wanna do anything."

He feels Mello's body tense above him.

"Yeah," his grip loosens on Matt's arm, "too bad."

Then slender digits force their way past his lips and deep into his mouth, and he gasps as Mello runs his tongue slowly against the side of his face. "So I guess all I can do is help him with projects, if I'm lucky enough that he actually wants my help."

Then the fingers slide out, and before Mello releases him, he holds him down tightly, thighs pressed against Matt's hips, and he thrusts hard against him with his fingers, eliciting a tormented cry of surprise.

"You like that?"

Matt exhales slowly.

"Yeah."

Mello thrusts harder. "You want me to fuck you?"

Matt swallows slowly, eyes closing. "You know I do."

Then he feels the wet strands at his shoulder brush back, and the fingers come against his forehead, partly covering his eyes as Mello whispers, "maybe after I finish this project for L."

 

(On to Chapter 4)

 



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