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.

Matt is undeniably cute, Mello thinks.

He probably wants a smoke real bad about now, doesn’t he, because, quiet and deep in thought, he settles himself across from Light and the slender digits of his hands reach absently for the pockets their outfits don’t have, almost helpless as they pad the air around him and finally clench softly into fists.

He presses his lips together, hair falling over his eyes as he looks down to his lap where his hands search to play with something—with anything—and he’s a child, only nineteen years old and soft-skinned behind the long cuff of his coat.

So you really killed all those people?

So you slept with L? I slept with L, too.

I’m Matt and I’m from the UK and this is my best mate, Mello, but those aren’t our real names.

Green eyes gaze out through long strands of hair.

“You have a family, isn’t that right,”

Matt says quietly, because he never did, but he heard about how, strangely enough, Kira’s father was chief of the police force tasked with finding Kira in Japan.

Light stares back, quiet for a long time before, voice soft as always, he replies,

“That’s right,” and then, quieter still, “that is why I’m here.”

That is why he’s here? Does that mean—did his own father turn in him? No, that isn’t how it went. L got him.

What do you mean, Matt thinks of asking, but despite his composure, Light is visibly brittle with emotion, and Matt thinks it must be hard for someone who’s always had a family to be suddenly isolated.

I never knew my parents.

I’m sorry if what I said upset you.

I think your voice is very pretty.

“Are you cold?” Matt says suddenly, “you must be so cold…”

And his fingers begin to collect the sheet around him, but suddenly he feels Light’s hand on his.

“It’s okay. I’m not cold.”

It comes polite and definite and colored entirely with odd reserve, and maybe if he wasn’t Kira, maybe if they weren’t in the midst of a job, maybe if they weren’t in the midst of infiltrating a maximum security prison in a foreign nation, maybe then Matt would try to somehow help or console him, maybe he’d even take him in his arms or even kiss him like Mello wanted, but instead he is knotted entirely with suspicion and tension and intensity and fear, but suddenly he remembers—

—that L really loved this boy.

He swallows quietly. Light is also a child.

“Close your eyes,” Matt says, and, confused, Light flips his gaze warily toward Matt, but Matt asks him again, and,

“Don’t worry. I won’t—just—okay.”

And Light actually does, and, after watching him for several moments, Matt moves a bit closer, and, reaching toward Light with trembling hands, he doesn’t need to say anything more, because he understands that Light must be thinking of L.

And when he kisses Light, pressing desperate and warm against him, Matt wonders to himself how that must feel for Light, who—

never loved anyone.

But now also he feels oddly fascinated and touched and surprised, because he didn’t expect when he kissed him that Light would respond so gently and cleverly in kind and with such undeniable talent; he didn’t expect the desperate, warm intensity in his touch or the way that it was somehow erotic enough to drive Matt nearly to aching arousal.

Seductive is right.

And he does it so well that Matt thinks he doesn’t at all mind being seduced.

Mello also doesn’t mind that Matt is being seduced, and even as he fights to keep from succumbing to his own desire, he brings his hand slowly to Matt’s shoulder,

“Hey,” he says quietly, voice hoarse, “let’s take it easy, yeah?”

And, lips moving against Matt’s long hair at the side of his ear, he looks again at Light,

“He hasn’t had it in a very long time.”

He bites Matt’s ear gently before withdrawing again.

Speechless with arousal and wonderment, Matt moves aside and allows Mello again to take the lead, watching the narrow bend of his knees as his long legs fold on either side of Light’s waist and Mello climbs into his lap.

Light can feel both their gazes on him, tracing the flawless surface of his skin with the same predatory appreciation he’s seen countless times in the eyes of others.

Mello runs his fingers down along Light’s chest, over the latches and the binds strapped all around his thorax and his abdomen and also the arm that is bound and the arm that is cuffed, until at last they come to rest just at the inguinal ridge and, biting his lip, Mello croons,


It comes dry and hoarse and laden half with genuine pity,

—you couldn’t even touch yourself,”

He murmurs, now moving his gaze very slowly from Light’s face to his naked sex, and he bites down on his index finger in pretense of heartfelt compassion.

He has Light's attention now, the boy silent as before but actually blushing now, at last anxious and visibly affected and not at all happy, and it dawns on Mello that part of what it means for Light to be a good boy is that he doesn't talk about what he does or doesn’t touch with people he’s just met.

Or maybe he doesn’t talk about it at all.

Maybe that’s what it’s like when you have a good family upbringing.

But none of that, of course, is going to stop Mello from talking that way, and, really, he feels the incentive a hundredfold now that he knows it makes Light blush.

Index finger still bent thoughtfully against his teeth, Mello stares down exactly where Light doesn’t want him to stare, and then, bringing the digit lower to touch the member beneath, he says to Matt,

“Do you think maybe—“

One blue eye peers at Light from behind long hair—

“—maybe if we unlocked the cuffs on his hands—“

The feather-light brush of his finger renders Light curiously desperate, miserable as he fights uselessly to keep from giving in to arousal.

Mello’s words are interrupted when suddenly Matt finds his voice, long-forgotten as he, too, fell deeper into seduction.

But instead of the elaborate warning he was going to give Mello about how supposedly if they even thought of letting him loose, he would kill them, Matt says merely that maybe they shouldn’t, and by the time that, with a mockery of innocence, Mello inquires as to why, Matt has long given up and whispers that he doesn’t know.

But Mello doesn’t unlock the cuff.

He continues only to stare down at Light’s narrow hips and the place where the warm flesh below is growing slowly rigid, and, with genuine anticipation, he runs his tongue slowly against the red curve of his lower lip and, because he knows how much this makes Light embarrassed, he doesn’t look away.

“Cmere,” he says to Matt, and when again he touches his finger to the naked member, it is now unquestionably hard, and because Light can no longer fight it, he does not look away.

Mello is entirely enjoying himself, and, smiling practically with wicked contentment, he turns to the younger boy, raising his wet fingers to Matt’s lips as he touches his mouth slowly.

For a moment, Matt remains still, allowing Mello to slide his fingers past his teeth and into his mouth and against his tongue, but, really, Light tastes so nice, and ultimately Matt takes Mello’s hand in both of his and, eyes closed, he licks softly at the wet digits.

Mello watches, lips parted but forgetting to breathe, and when at last he pulls away, Matt reaches after his hand with desperation that makes Mello's skin electric with shivers.

And then, again, his gaze turns to Light, and Mello is now completely aroused as he kneels over him.

“Do you want it too?”

He whispers, and he knows that a good boy like Light isn’t going to say that he does, but he knows also that it’s been a very long time for Light since last he tasted anything that tasted anything at all like sex.

Light is bound, so he can’t reach for Mello’s hand like Matt did, and he can’t grab him or hold him or pull him closer, but Mello remembers what it’s like to be bound, so he doesn’t make Light suffer any longer. After he presses his finger to the boy’s lips and allows him to suck on them, he kisses Light again, and Light responds with intense desperation that strikes a very strange chord with Mello, because it seems almost to delve beyond the physical and into very intricate cerebral obsession that Mello thinks he’s only ever witnessed in one other person before.

To be continued...

You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story