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Karma	By : thegamejunkie Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > Mello/Matt Views: 1363 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Death Note is not mine. and I'm not making any money writing this. Not my boys, unfortunately. Only the story below is mine.

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- 1-Karma
- 1
It's seriously hard to focus when you've got a glare burning a hole in the back of your head. Especially if it was one of Mello's, er, epic glares of fucking doom. Don't doubt the name, I'm one hundred percent serious. Bloody tosser.

I plastered on a flirty grin, leaning closer to the cute brunette I'd caught eying me earlier. If Mello was going to drag me here (for no freakin' reason at that) I was going to at least get some fun out of it. And, I admit, I'd been eying her myself anyway.

...Hence the glare.

I shook it off, taking a sip from the latest drink of four (five? Whatever, I was getting wasted.) She smiled in return, sticking her chest forward a bit, subtly. Or so she thought. I obliged her and tilted my head down to make it look like I was staring at her chest anyhow. Which...I kind of was. Not that bad, really. My grin grew a bit, and I stuck out a hand.

"Got a name?" She asked as she took my hand gingerly. I've learned girls think it's cute when they act all weak and stuff...It isn't, but it's not like I'd tell them that, considering I've also learned that you don't get laid if you tell a chick that her flirting is rubbish.

Although, there was always that other way to get laid...

No, no, no, no, no...I was not considering that. I'd just been spending too much time putting up with Mello's damn sexually harrassing me, was all. I had absolutely no interest in letting him screw me, no matter how horny I was. And...why the hell was I even dwelling on this with that cute girl right in front of me?

Just a bit of a dumbass sometimes, I guess. "Leon," I responded in a suave and not-dumbass-y-at-all manner, giving her hand a light squeeze. I didn't like giving up my name (something about the way chicks tended to moan it...not cool), but sometimes they asked, so I had to give them some kind of answer. I mean, what the fuck else was I supposed to tell them? Being all secretive and stuff about names wouldn't come off very sexy, I'd think.

The chick stepped closer, hand still clasped in mine. "Meghan," Her hand slipped up my arm, and I felt the glare from somewhere behind me intensify. But, hey! That's what he gets for dragging me into a bar (in the middle of a game that I didn't get to save, the git!). Did he expect me to stay at his side? I would normally, sure...but when there are loads of girls around? Ah...no. And, anyway, he deserved it for making me ruin my game. I knew he sort of fancied me, and this was one of my safest ways of getting back at him.

"I like your accent...Australian?" Meghan's smile seemed to grow, grip tightening on my forearm. Her own voice was sort of mousy and unappealing, but I had my hopes set on not doing much more talking anyway.

"English, actually." I corrected, working the exasperation out of my tone easily. Like I hadn't heard that a hundred times before...She looked confused for a moment. "Like Harry Potter, babe. I'm from England." Her expression immediately lit up at this, probably from the endearment since I doubted she was an avid Harry Potter reader.

One hand came to rest on my chest, and I found her face incredibly close to mine, her eyelashes fluttering. Fantastic. "That's...sexy," She purred. My hand fell to her hip, leaning in myself. Almost too easy, that was.

Or so I'd thought. The moment my lips were mere millimeters from hers, I felt a strong arm snake its way around my waist. Shit, he wouldn't...

Next thing I knew there was a pair of lips at my neck, the arm tightening it's grip. "Matty...I look away for ten seconds and you're all over someone else. What am I going to do with you?" Mello sighed, and I could here the mocking edge to his words. Not to mention angry, though I guess I hadn't expected any less.

Then again, I hadn't expected him to interfere either. He usually didn't, just sulking about it every time I hooked up with a girl, and moving on again soon after. Proceeding to molest the unwilling me, at any rate.

I cleared my throat, looking between Meghan and the blond pressed up against my back. The former looked, well, pissed, but it was nothing in comparison to the way Mello was glaring at her. Jealous bastard, I wasn't even his. Before I could say a word, she shot me a dirty look and stalked off, finding some other guy to salivate over within seconds.

"Now, Matt..." I turned in his grip before he could continue, shoving him just hard enough to get him to let go. His glare was back on me instantly, but I held my ground. He and I both knew he doesn't scare me.

"Where the hell do you get off doing...doing that? Man, she was all over me!" I half hissed, folding my arms over my chest. He studied me for a moment, blue eyes making it clear that he had a thought on his mind...and more than likely not something I was going to like. "Er...Mel-"

He grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to sit in one of the bar stools, proceeding to order a drink. When the glass was set in front of me, I only stared. I expected something...different. More violent, perhaps? I mean, what the hell? My confusion must have been evident, because Mello nudged me, taking a pointed drink out of his own glass.

"Just drink it, dumbass. I know how much you like the stuff. We're here to get wasted, anyway." Usually this meant we're here so he could get wasted and I could find a chick to fuck...but judging by his hard look I wasn't moving from that stool anytime soon.

At least until we were several drinks in. He grabbed my elbow, dragging me towards the mass of bodies dancing...er, squirming under a mess of bright colored lights. My ears ached a bit from the loud music as we drew closer, and I attempted to pull away from the sadistic bastard who clearly had nothing on his mind but torturing me in the worst way possible despite making it seem just a few minutes ago that he wasn't going to do that. Crafty Mello, can't believe I'd expected anything else. I was not going to-

But he beat me to even my internal protest, slinking his arms around my waist again with a smirk. I glared. "You're not as smart as I thought if you think I'm going to do this." I gave his chest another little push, but this time he held me fast, smirk growing. It was kind of sexy, even.

Objectively speaking, of course. All I meant was that I could see why someone might find it sexy. Someone, you know, not me. Not straight. After all, a bloke's smirk is not sexy when you're straight. Like me.

Ahem.

His hips shifted against mine, regardless of what I'd said, eventually meeting the rhythm of the song. His look was daring, challenging even. The same look he'd given me a hundred times at Wammy's when he'd been trying to coax me into joining in on one of his schemes. Maybe he was drunk or something, despite his tolerance for alcohol. This was a little outlandish, even for him, and it was arousing my curiosity a bit. (And just that, I swear.)

And, despite myself, I rocked my hips back, meeting his eyes head on. I couldn't give in to him, after all. Let him think I was a coward. Though I suppose thiswas giving into him, so I was giving him satisfaction anyway...

Perhaps I was drunk too. No...I was definitely smashed, And when I was like that...well, I also got horny. So it was just because he was touching me (semi-grouping my ass now, to be specific) that I was responding, not because it was him. Besides, it's not like we were having sex or anything. We were just...dancing.

"Mels?"

"Matt?"

"You're a dick."

"Quite aware, thank you." I could just here that smirk in his voice. By now he'd managed to switch our positions, hands on my hips and, ah, grinding. Against my ass. Which I shouldn't have been enjoying because I'm straight, and he damn well knew it, fucker.

"I'm only doing this 'cause I'm drunk." I blurted.

Mello snickered, brushing his lips against the back of my neck. I shivered. It was a sensitive area, is all. "I'm sure,"

He didn't say anymore after that...neither did I. Instead we drank more, and he ground against me more (and maybe I ground a little back) and, Christ, before I knew it I was on my back in his bed in our shitty little flat. I wasn't even sure how we got there, unable to concentrate on anything but his lips and his teeth and his mouth...

I bit hard at my lower lip, twisting my hand into his hair. This was not right. I was straight. He was my best mate. There was a freaking erection pressed tight against my own and that was wrong on so many levels and I should have shoved him off and ran for my life (or the sake of my virgin ass, anyway) and...Well I'd rejected him a dozen times before, so it should have been easy.

Should being the operative word there. Man, I was so fucked...No pun intended, I swear.

My thoughts scattered again when Mello pressed his hand against my crotch, hips jerking up (instinctively!). "Straight my ass..." He muttered, digging his teeth into my collarbone. Which, you know, I couldn't help but moan at. Anyone would. "You like that, Matt?" There was that smirk again. I narrowed my eyes, actually somewhat efficient since he'd thrown my goggles across the room a bit ago.

"Fucker,"

"I could be." He leaned up, lips lingering just above mine. I tried to shrink back...but my body disobeyed me and I ended up pressing my lips against his. It wasn't like I hadn't kissed him before...Well, he'd kissed me actually, but something about this was...bloody fantastic.

I swear on the-bloke-who-created-video-game's grave that I'm never getting wasted again, and in turn never getting in this situation again.

'Cause, I mean, I couldn't back out now. I was in too deep. Mello's hands were tugging off my pants and I was ripping off his vest and I was so fucking hard that I felt like I was going to explode at any moment...I squeezed my eyes shut tight, brushing my lips over his chest. Straight or not, I could appreciate the well defined-ness of it...and his ass and his legs and his... damnit. "Fuck..."

"Patience, Matty-boy." Mello shifted, leaning over away from me. He was fumbling through the bedside drawer for something...lube, I'd guess. I kept my eyes shut. I was really doing this. After years of fucking countless girls and enjoying it...after years of turning Mello down, I was going to let him fuck me.

And it felt so damn good...

Clink.

"O-oi!" The cool metal against my wrist was unmistakable. My eyes shot open, but before I could scramble away, Mello had cuffed my other wrist. Only after wrapping the chain around one of the bars on the headboard of course. Son of a bitch. "What the hell?" The smirking asshole was straddling my hips, toying with my hair and looking rather pleased with himself. He hardly even looked drunk...which just made this whole thing all the worse.

"Just having a little fun." His tone was, again, mocking, trailing a finger slowly down my chest. In the corner of my eye I caught him unscrewing a thing of lube with his free hand. Fuck, if he thought he was going to try that now...

I glared once more. "I'm not into handcuffs...or blokes, for that matter. Let me go and we'll just forget this- F-fuck!" I whimpered, freaking whimpered, when he stuck his finger inside me and managed to hit my, er...prostate. Jesus, he must have been an expert or something to get it that easy...

Not that I was admiring him or anything, hell no. Not when he was in the middle of molesting me, again. I had definitely not asked for that, so wasn't this like rape? Git.

But his finger brushed that spot again and I could give a fuck less. I arched my hips upward unconsciously, hitting my head back on the headboard. Just...fuck.

"Still want me to let you go, Matt?" Two fingers. It was getting a tad too uncomfortable for my taste, but then he had his hand on my cock and really my mind was blown. I tried my best to glare at him, though he only seemed to grow more amused. "C'mon, you can admit it. I'm more than willing to oblige you, as I'm sure you know."

"Nn..." I let out another little whimper despite myself when he added yet another finger. How many were supposed to go in there for Christ's sake? "Mello."

He leaned over me, his fingers still busy at work turning me into a puddle of wanton mush now that the pain was ebbing and being replaced by increasing amounts of pleasure. If I thought I was going to explode before..."Hm?" His lips met my collarbone again, teeth grazing over the skin. "Just give me the word, Matt." The tone he used was almost tender...for Mello, anyway.

Godamn. "...Would you just fuck me already so I can enjoy myself a bit before dying of shame?" This came out in a rush, interrupted by those damn whimpers because Mello just kept right on moving those bloody fingers. I felt a little relieved saying this, admittedly. And a little satisfied at the surprised moan he let loose when surged up to smash my lips into his.

Not surprisingly, he quickly dominated the kiss, pretty much knocking the breath out of me within minutes. Or, what was left of it. It seemed like too soon when he removed both hands from me, and I shuddered at the lack of contact, biting my lip to hold back a whine. It was bad enough I was letting him do this, I wasn't about to beg.

He didn't seem to want that, at least, not exactly hesitating as he started to ease himself inside of me. Now I'm not going to rant about how big and wonderful Mello's dick is, because I honestly wasn't looking anyway, but I will tell you that it was large enough to hurt despite all the prep.

Thankfully he had the decency to pause, mouth working yet another hickey onto my neck as I adjusted to the feeling of being, ah, filled.

"Matt," He muttered, voice satisfyingly shaky. There was a silent question in that, and I nodded in answer after another short moment. The thrusts that followed came fast and almost roughly, far harder than I would have treated any chick. But fuck if it didn't feel bloody brilliant. Within moments the small room was filled with noises of pleasure (...mostly mine) and the ocasional clank of the handcuffs as I yanked impulsively at my wrists. His labored breathing was hot against my neck, a hand on either side of my shoulders to support himself as he thrusted deeper. I arched my hips up the best I could, trying to meet him movement for movement.

He released a sharp gasp, shuddering almost violently as his orgasm hit him. A hand fell on my stomach, and I figured he was going to finish me off as well or something. I was so fucking close...

He pulled out, panting heavily as he sat back on his heels. I opened my eyes, blinking at him in surprise. "Mels..." It came out as a rather desperate/needy sounding whisper, shooting him my best puppy eyes. I needed that release. I was positively aching at this point.

Lo and behold the tosser just smirked, slipping off the bed and turning his back to me. He eased his way into his pants, seemingly oblivious to my shocked gaze. There was no way he would actually...

When he turned again, a malicious glint in his eye, I knew that he, in fact, would. "M-mello, c'mon, please..."

But he just shook his head, shrugging on his vest as if he hadn't just brought me close to what surely would have been the most mind blowing orgasm in the history of orgasms. "Sorry, Matty." He sat on the edge of the bed, giving me a sympathetic look that would have been believable if not for the smirk in his eyes. "But I couldn't just let you get away with you're naughty behavior, now could I? All those poor girls." He 'tsk'd, standing once more and tucking his gun into his pants.

"That'll teach you to reject me," He sniffed, strutting towards the door. He paused, leaning against the frame to shoot me one last smirk. "I'll be back for you later. Sit tight." The implication in his words made me shudder, and a bit hard on my lip as he turned to walk out the door.

Karma, it appears, is quite the freaking bitch.
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