Matt x Mello

BY : Genevieve
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 8269
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.

All the while, Light watches with silent reserve.

Oh, they have his attention; his eyes are on them, fixed and direct, glimmering wet and large with unspoken reluctance but unmistakable interest, and even while Mello and Matt talk to each other, it’s really him they’re talking to.

And when in the midst of their ministrations, Mello and Matt stop breathlessly to gaze at one another, and then, without a word, begin all at once to latch onto and devour each other, it’s really him they’re thinking of, and it’s really him they plan to devour in the end.

Mello nearly topples to the floor from the strength of Matt’s grasp when suddenly he seizes him, and he half fights and half kisses back, aggravated and annoyed and short of breath and ambivalent between the urge to punch Matt and to pin him down and screw him.

It’s nice to have Light watch, isn’t it, especially because Mello knows that a good boy like Light will neither acknowledge what they’re doing nor dare to intervene, but he wants it, he wants it no less, and while he won’t dare to remind them that they’ve neglected him just then, even a good boy like Light won’t suppress his relief when at last their attention returns to his neglected anatomy.

Could it be carelessness then, innocence, could it be defeat that comes up him when, with naked humility, for once he speaks,

Gentle,”

Is all he asks, perhaps for once undone and feverish, defenseless, soft eyes liquid water under the fluid sway of his hair, and under the immaculate velvet of his skin he is brittle, fractured innocence and lost, and so genuinely, thoroughly affected—

Please and protect me and don’t hurt me, he says none of these things, he couldn’t, but just how great a lie would it be, Matt wonders, to tell himself that these are things Light is capable of thinking—

“Okay then,” comes the wet vapor of his breath echoing hot against the skin at Light’s waist, “we’ll go gentle,”

And he motions for Mello to back up, because it’s not very long at all before they give it to him, and neither of them will have an easy time holding back from giving it to him very not gentle.

He’s watching.

He wants to see what they’re doing to him, how they’re touching him and what they tell each other while they’re touching him, and Mello knows that he’s not gonna tell them how nice it feels or how badly he wants them, but it’s there, it’s all there, real and unspoken in the resolute intensity in his eyes—

Is this how he looked at L? Is this what he wanted from L?

And did L give it to him, did he hurt and torment him and did he wait with maddening patience to see when at last Light would break down, when at last he would speak and show despair and, with raw frustration, beg, and did that moment ever actually come, or did Light hold out forever and ever and—

“Nnn…nnhh!!”

It breaks the silence, simple and pained, and Mello shakes his head with feigned disappointment as he motions for Matt to stop,

“Matty, Matty,” he croons, “Light wants gentle,”

And the way Matt drew Light’s thighs apart, and the way he pressed his fingers into him just then were really not very gentle.

But Mello snickers to himself quietly, because clearly this was something Matt had done unawares because, having done it to Mello so many times, he must not even have given it a second thought.

“I’m very sorry,” Mello says with a wicked smile that, behind the expressionless silence of his gaze, likely irritates Light to no end, but Mello doesn’t even look at him long enough to search for any trace of emotion.

He takes Matt’s place between Light’s thighs, and, in a moment of enamor, inhales quietly as he runs the long digits of his hands along the naked skin of his abdomen and his legs, and the yellow locks of his hair fall on Light’s thighs as he kneels to lick at him, lips pressed against his skin and tongue prodding the tight opening,

“Is this okay?”

He asks, eyes peering at Light from behind his hair, and, swallowing quietly, Light nods, so Mello licks at him again,

“And was that okay?”

“Yes,” Light’s voice comes hoarse and broken, and he stares at Mello with focused attention and gasps when Mello does it again, and then it’s an internal battle as Light struggles to remain silent, gaze trained on Mello as the younger boy has at him.

“You’re spoiling him, Mello,” Matt whispers, now walking toward Light and kneeling to kiss his temple, “L never told us he liked that.”

“L didn’t tell us everything,”

Mello replies, and then stops frozen in place when he realizes how far more heavily laden his words are with implication than he ever intended.

Silence.

No, there is far more here at play than either of them can know.

“I never asked L to do this,” comes suddenly the reply, and it’s the most Light has spoken in a long time.

It’s meaningless, however, because Light never asked L to do any of it, and he didn’t need to, nor did he need to tell him how much he really did like it, because L knew.

“You’re not going to ask us, either,”

Mello says, eyes intense and feral, “are you,” and the slender tips of his fingers sink hard into the flesh at Light’s hips,

“and when it hurts too much, you’re also not going to ask us to stop.”

And, naturally, Light doesn’t answer that, either, and he says nothing when Mello has at him again, so it’s Matt who reminds Mello that

“I thought we’re giving it to him gentle,”

But really, he’s entirely fascinated by Mello and how he licks slowly at Light, and he wonders how long Mello can really keep up gentle.

“You wanna do it to him, too, don’t you,”

Mello says, and, very slowly, he begins pulling away, and as he does so he kisses the slick inside of Light’s thigh and also the tip of his member and his flat stomach, and, brushing at his mouth with the back of his hand, he begins climbing over Light’s slender body and presses down on his chest with his hands as to coax him again to lie down, and the soft strands of his hair pour on either side of Light’s face when he kisses him.

“I wanna do it to you,”

Matt replies, transfixed as he watches them kiss, but when he moves closer, he leans gently under Mello’s body and carefully reaches with his hand for Light’s member.

Matt is good with his hands, and, of the two of them, he is really far more gentle.

There’s a strange chill running down his spine, then, when he hears Light crying when again Matt begins to lap at him, and the voice comes soft and muffled against Mello’s lips, and it’s somehow infinitely arousing, so, almost to himself, Matt whispers,

“Is this what you wanted?”

And then, pressing his fingers against the already wet opening, he takes the member in his mouth, and it’s not until Light at last has gone undone and weary of crying that, very quietly, Matt withdraws and, licking at his lips, says to Mello,

“He’s all yours, boss.”

And, Moving back, Matt brings one hand to Mello’s hip, strong and delicate, and with his other he helps Mello take Light’s member and slowly guide it in, and he can’t quite see from where he is whether the look in Light’s eyes is one of arousal or despair or pleasure or panic, but he doesn’t need to look at Mello’s face to know that, behind all that yellow hair, his best mate is smiling carnivorously in triumph and absolute satisfaction.

To be continued…


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