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.

Matt hangs his head, lips stretching into a bitter grin. His hands are still tight against Mello's wrists.

"Is that how you wanna play it," he murmurs, "very well, then."

He presses harder, smashing Mello tightly against the wall.

"So tell me, boss," he whispers, voice hoarse with the beginning of tears, "what is it exactly that you want so badly from L?"

Mello is deliberately silent, and his silence is maddening.

"You want him to tie you up? Is that it?"

He takes both of Mello's wrists in one hand, gripping hard, and reaches around to his face with the other.

The blood is cold and clumping on the boy's lip, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and Matt thrusts his fingers into Mello's mouth.

"You want him to give it to you rough, don't you," he whispers, voice breaking, "and make you cry and bleed and choke, and—" he swallows, pressing his lips together as the tears begin running down his face, "that's it, isn't it," he thrusts his fingers deeper into Mello's mouth, "God damn it, Mello, you're sick."

Mello doesn't resist. Matt can't see his face, but his breath is hot and steady against his fingers, wrists limp in his hand.

"But L won't do it, will he," Matt murmurs, gritting his teeth, "so you'll just have to keep fantasizing about it and touching yourself."

He presses his fingers down against Mello's teeth, crying freely now.

"Won't you."

He withdraws his hand from Mello's mouth and tugs hard at the back edge of his pants, pulling them down with one fast motion, and then runs the moist digits along the curve of his back.

Mello cries out when the fingers go in, harsh and direct and without mercy, and Matt pushes them as far in as he can, biting the shell of Mello's ear with forlorn intensity.

"Tell me what you did with him," he whispers hoarsely, cheeks wet with tears, "tell me, you fucking bastard, God, I swear, Mello, I'll never forgive you."

Mello's neck is stretched forward, his forehead pressed against the wall and his lips parted, and no matter how hard Matt pushes in, he says nothing.

Really, they hadn't done anything. L merely let him sit in his lap and hold him, but that's beside the point, because if L had let him do more, Mello would have done more. And even if L decides to let him do more (he said he'll think about it), above anything it's because he knows how much Mello is suffering because he wants it so much.

He can't help it.

He's wanted L with maddening jealousy as far back as he can remember. It isn't something he can change and it certainly isn't something he's going to lie to Matt about.

And no matter how hard Matt hits him or how desperately he cries as he thrusts his fingers into him, he's not going to make him want it any less.

Matt seems to understand this, and it hurts—it really hurts. One hand still tight against Mello's wrists, he pulls his fingers out and nudges the boy's thighs apart with his knee, then enters him slowly, hair hanging over his eyes and tears glistening at the edge of his lip, and he bites down, burying his face in Mello's hair.

He inhales, crying softly into the long strands, his hands shaking against the wrists beneath and hips moving slowly against him. Mello says nothing – in fact, he seems icy and frozen and maddeningly unresponsive, his soft hiss of exhalation the only sign that he's there at all.

What do I do?

What do I do?

When it's over, Matt doesn't let go. He still holds Mello tightly against the wall, eyes dry and sore with the bitter remains of tears, and no matter how tightly he grasps the older boy, he still feels desperate and utterly alone.

You're mine, God damn it…!

I love you! I love you!


(On to Chapter 7)

 



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