Breaking the Silence
folder
Death Note › Yaoi-Male/Male › Mello/Matt
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,898
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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Category:
Death Note › Yaoi-Male/Male › Mello/Matt
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,898
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Breaking the Silence
A/N: I started this back in September, finished what’s here in December, but never posted it. I labeled it “Chapter 1”, but I no longer remember what I wanted to do with it. C’est la vie! So instead of whatever idea I had that probably never would have gotten written, let alone posted, I figured I’d just let you guys have this short and sweet little drabble as-is. Enjoy!
He’d been dreaming of ice cubes.
Of course, it had to be something mundane, and directly related to what he was feeling in the outside world. It was December, almost Christmas, and Wammy’s was cold. Wammy’s was always cold in the wintertime. It wasn’t like the orphanage’s esteemed benefactor couldn’t afford to pay the heating bill or anything. They had a proper heating system and everything. But Roger seemed to think it was foolish to turn the thermostat above 17ºC during the cooler months. It was all well and good for him, with his room right next to the furnace, but the students often used several blankets each and still could barely handle the cold in the drafty old place.
Mello’s eyes slid open, taking in the darkened room. Moonlight was streaming in through a gap in the curtains, falling right across Matt’s bed, highlighting the lump of his roommate sleeping in a cocoon of blankets. Mello frowned. It actually wasn’t that cold; the ice cube dream was apparently caused by his feet sticking out from under the covers. A mundane dream with a mundane cause. Why couldn’t he dream about solving impossible cases at L’s side or becoming a world-renown detective in his own right? Why ice cubes? With a groan he lay back and stared at the ceiling.
He hated how quiet Wammy’s was this time of night. The old building creaked and groaned, but the noises were faint, distant, so familiar by now that he mostly tuned them out. The place seemed rather empty without the bass of Matt’s headphones or the beeping of his handheld or the chatter of other students. Instead the only sound was Matt’s breathing… his shallow, uneven breathing.
Matt was awake.
Mello turned his head, staring at that lump, watching for movement. Did Matt know he was awake too? Had he made a noise that caused Mello to wake? Why was he just lying there? Well… Mello supposed he was basically doing the same thing, but still… Matt’s breathing had been fairly even, if a little too shallow to indicate sleep, when Mello had first awoken. Now it had grown almost ragged, like he was…
No.
No, he wouldn’t…
Would he?
The short, ragged breaths took on a more vocal quality, and the lump shifted around, Matt’s head poking up from under the covers and gasping in a great lungful of air that whined on the way out. Lying on his back like that, the moonlight perfectly highlighted the movement of a hand under the covers. Mello watched, enrapt, as that hand sped up, his own hand moving on autopilot to his groin.
God, this was fucking hot.
It shouldn’t be, though. Should it? This was Matt. A bloke. His best friend. His roommate. But Mello couldn’t deny the growing arousal at watching the redhead stroke himself to completion. He wondered what the other boy was thinking, imagining.
Matt let out another quiet, breathy moan, biting his lip as he changed his stroke to something a little rougher, a bit more brutal. And now there was a faint sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. The redhead turned to watch Mello in case he woke the other boy…
…And met piercing green eyes.
His hand stilled, his teeth biting harder into his lip. He’d been caught. Fuck! “Mello…” And damn it, that sounded more like an invitation than an explanation. Why the fuck did he have to sound so goddamn wanton?
Mello licked his lips, considering his options. Obviously they were both far too aroused to just roll over and go to sleep, pretend it had never happened. And really he didn’t want to. He imagined himself strutting over to the redhead, sliding into his bed and helping him finish what he’d started. Of course, that might not be well accepted, and it was damn near impossible to get a new roommate. But damn it, the way Matt had said his name was just fucking tempting.
“Matty…” And god he sounded desperate, like a drowning man. He pushed the covers off, actually enjoying the cool air on his heated skin. The redhead gasped and Mello realized how obvious the tent was in his boxers. Glancing over he realized Matt hadn’t looked away, was in fact staring at Mello’s groin. Interesting.
Mello reached down again, stroking himself through the fabric of his shorts, all the while watching Matt’s expression in the dim light. The redhead bit his lip again, shifting around, and Mello realized he was stroking himself again. With a bit of cheek, Mello rasped, “Covers off, Matty. Wanna see you.”
And god, didn’t that have a ringing sense of change to it…
Matt pushed his covers aside, and Mello got more of a show than he’d expected or prepared himself for. The redhead must have removed his boxers before Mello awoke, and now he lay there naked, pale in the moonlight, a smooth expanse of creamy skin. Mello’s breath rattled out. He shoved his boxers down, kicking them off and exposing his similarly pale body to his roommate. He made eye contact for a moment before letting his eyes trail down that slender frame, his fingers skittering along his own torso and wrapping around his turgid length. As he watched, Matt mirrored him, motion for motion, lying in the same position.
They lay like that for a while, watching each other, mirroring one another’s movements as they worked toward their own pleasure. There was a growing sense of urgency about them, their hands moving faster, their breaths sharper, coming out in pants and groans.
It was Matt who broke the spell, moaning Mello’s name as his pleasure continued to build. It was too much for the blonde, and he slipped out of bed, making his way quickly across the space between their beds – the floor was bloody cold! – and climbed in next to Matt, who turned on his side and scooted back to make room.
If Mello thought his own flesh was overheated, Matt was a fucking furnace. But it felt so good against his skin, especially in the cool air. He slid a hand around the redhead’s neck and pulled him close, sharing a breath and whispering, “God, Matty…” before claiming the boy’s lips in a desperate kiss.
Neither had really had much experience kissing before: a few rather sad games of Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare, full of chaste pecks shared with girls they didn’t like. This was different, so very different, and they clutched at each other as they figured out the proper angles and a decent rhythm. Mello darted out his tongue, tasting the other boy, and Matt gasped, opening his mouth to the older boy. Soon their tongues were dueling and their hands roaming, grasping, nails scraping along whatever flesh happened to be nearby.
Mello broke the kiss, running his lips down Matt’s neck and across his shoulder. “Fuck, Mell… So good.” And Mello realized they’d been neglecting their own need. He pushed Matt onto his back and climbed over the boy, lining up their erections and shifting his hips around. Like the kissing, it took a few moments to get everything right, but soon they were rutting against each other, their moans following the rhythm of their bodies. Mello crashed their lips together again, using teeth nearly as much as tongue now, and Matt only pulled him closer, nails digging into the blonde’s shoulders, legs falling apart and allowing for a better angle, a harder thrust. It was too much, not enough. They were barely coherent and the fire pooled within them, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally released in a scalding wave between them.
Mello knelt above the redhead, his head hanging down and his arms locked to hold him up while the world righted itself and he slowly regained control of his breathing. Matt was the first to break the spell, letting out a shaky laugh and muttering, “Fuck, Mell…” Mello chuckled a bit in response, humming his agreement, and then collapsed on his side next to the redhead. He watched idly as Matt grabbed some tissues from the box on the nightstand and started wiping up the mess they’d made, nearly all of which had landed on his stomach. He turned to look at the blonde and frowned. “Next time, I get to be on top.”
Mello chuckled again. “Hmm… think I might make you work for that.” He brushed a thumb across Matt’s lower lip and then leaned in for another kiss. With their exertions finished, the cold was once again setting in, and Mello pulled the blankets over them both. They ended the kiss and snuggled into the blankets, slowly drifting off into a sleep uninterrupted by dreams of ice cubes.
He’d been dreaming of ice cubes.
Of course, it had to be something mundane, and directly related to what he was feeling in the outside world. It was December, almost Christmas, and Wammy’s was cold. Wammy’s was always cold in the wintertime. It wasn’t like the orphanage’s esteemed benefactor couldn’t afford to pay the heating bill or anything. They had a proper heating system and everything. But Roger seemed to think it was foolish to turn the thermostat above 17ºC during the cooler months. It was all well and good for him, with his room right next to the furnace, but the students often used several blankets each and still could barely handle the cold in the drafty old place.
Mello’s eyes slid open, taking in the darkened room. Moonlight was streaming in through a gap in the curtains, falling right across Matt’s bed, highlighting the lump of his roommate sleeping in a cocoon of blankets. Mello frowned. It actually wasn’t that cold; the ice cube dream was apparently caused by his feet sticking out from under the covers. A mundane dream with a mundane cause. Why couldn’t he dream about solving impossible cases at L’s side or becoming a world-renown detective in his own right? Why ice cubes? With a groan he lay back and stared at the ceiling.
He hated how quiet Wammy’s was this time of night. The old building creaked and groaned, but the noises were faint, distant, so familiar by now that he mostly tuned them out. The place seemed rather empty without the bass of Matt’s headphones or the beeping of his handheld or the chatter of other students. Instead the only sound was Matt’s breathing… his shallow, uneven breathing.
Matt was awake.
Mello turned his head, staring at that lump, watching for movement. Did Matt know he was awake too? Had he made a noise that caused Mello to wake? Why was he just lying there? Well… Mello supposed he was basically doing the same thing, but still… Matt’s breathing had been fairly even, if a little too shallow to indicate sleep, when Mello had first awoken. Now it had grown almost ragged, like he was…
No.
No, he wouldn’t…
Would he?
The short, ragged breaths took on a more vocal quality, and the lump shifted around, Matt’s head poking up from under the covers and gasping in a great lungful of air that whined on the way out. Lying on his back like that, the moonlight perfectly highlighted the movement of a hand under the covers. Mello watched, enrapt, as that hand sped up, his own hand moving on autopilot to his groin.
God, this was fucking hot.
It shouldn’t be, though. Should it? This was Matt. A bloke. His best friend. His roommate. But Mello couldn’t deny the growing arousal at watching the redhead stroke himself to completion. He wondered what the other boy was thinking, imagining.
Matt let out another quiet, breathy moan, biting his lip as he changed his stroke to something a little rougher, a bit more brutal. And now there was a faint sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. The redhead turned to watch Mello in case he woke the other boy…
…And met piercing green eyes.
His hand stilled, his teeth biting harder into his lip. He’d been caught. Fuck! “Mello…” And damn it, that sounded more like an invitation than an explanation. Why the fuck did he have to sound so goddamn wanton?
Mello licked his lips, considering his options. Obviously they were both far too aroused to just roll over and go to sleep, pretend it had never happened. And really he didn’t want to. He imagined himself strutting over to the redhead, sliding into his bed and helping him finish what he’d started. Of course, that might not be well accepted, and it was damn near impossible to get a new roommate. But damn it, the way Matt had said his name was just fucking tempting.
“Matty…” And god he sounded desperate, like a drowning man. He pushed the covers off, actually enjoying the cool air on his heated skin. The redhead gasped and Mello realized how obvious the tent was in his boxers. Glancing over he realized Matt hadn’t looked away, was in fact staring at Mello’s groin. Interesting.
Mello reached down again, stroking himself through the fabric of his shorts, all the while watching Matt’s expression in the dim light. The redhead bit his lip again, shifting around, and Mello realized he was stroking himself again. With a bit of cheek, Mello rasped, “Covers off, Matty. Wanna see you.”
And god, didn’t that have a ringing sense of change to it…
Matt pushed his covers aside, and Mello got more of a show than he’d expected or prepared himself for. The redhead must have removed his boxers before Mello awoke, and now he lay there naked, pale in the moonlight, a smooth expanse of creamy skin. Mello’s breath rattled out. He shoved his boxers down, kicking them off and exposing his similarly pale body to his roommate. He made eye contact for a moment before letting his eyes trail down that slender frame, his fingers skittering along his own torso and wrapping around his turgid length. As he watched, Matt mirrored him, motion for motion, lying in the same position.
They lay like that for a while, watching each other, mirroring one another’s movements as they worked toward their own pleasure. There was a growing sense of urgency about them, their hands moving faster, their breaths sharper, coming out in pants and groans.
It was Matt who broke the spell, moaning Mello’s name as his pleasure continued to build. It was too much for the blonde, and he slipped out of bed, making his way quickly across the space between their beds – the floor was bloody cold! – and climbed in next to Matt, who turned on his side and scooted back to make room.
If Mello thought his own flesh was overheated, Matt was a fucking furnace. But it felt so good against his skin, especially in the cool air. He slid a hand around the redhead’s neck and pulled him close, sharing a breath and whispering, “God, Matty…” before claiming the boy’s lips in a desperate kiss.
Neither had really had much experience kissing before: a few rather sad games of Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare, full of chaste pecks shared with girls they didn’t like. This was different, so very different, and they clutched at each other as they figured out the proper angles and a decent rhythm. Mello darted out his tongue, tasting the other boy, and Matt gasped, opening his mouth to the older boy. Soon their tongues were dueling and their hands roaming, grasping, nails scraping along whatever flesh happened to be nearby.
Mello broke the kiss, running his lips down Matt’s neck and across his shoulder. “Fuck, Mell… So good.” And Mello realized they’d been neglecting their own need. He pushed Matt onto his back and climbed over the boy, lining up their erections and shifting his hips around. Like the kissing, it took a few moments to get everything right, but soon they were rutting against each other, their moans following the rhythm of their bodies. Mello crashed their lips together again, using teeth nearly as much as tongue now, and Matt only pulled him closer, nails digging into the blonde’s shoulders, legs falling apart and allowing for a better angle, a harder thrust. It was too much, not enough. They were barely coherent and the fire pooled within them, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally released in a scalding wave between them.
Mello knelt above the redhead, his head hanging down and his arms locked to hold him up while the world righted itself and he slowly regained control of his breathing. Matt was the first to break the spell, letting out a shaky laugh and muttering, “Fuck, Mell…” Mello chuckled a bit in response, humming his agreement, and then collapsed on his side next to the redhead. He watched idly as Matt grabbed some tissues from the box on the nightstand and started wiping up the mess they’d made, nearly all of which had landed on his stomach. He turned to look at the blonde and frowned. “Next time, I get to be on top.”
Mello chuckled again. “Hmm… think I might make you work for that.” He brushed a thumb across Matt’s lower lip and then leaned in for another kiss. With their exertions finished, the cold was once again setting in, and Mello pulled the blankets over them both. They ended the kiss and snuggled into the blankets, slowly drifting off into a sleep uninterrupted by dreams of ice cubes.