Want it. Take it. Love it. Keep it.

A/N: Its Mello's Birthday! Yay! Kinda...

WARNING: Angst ahoy! This chapter contains some touchy subject matter that you may or may not find disturbing but is very important to the plot and therefore a neccessary evil. Everything in this story has been cutesy/funny/tame but its about to get a whole lot more dramatic so hold onto your hats, kids.

By the by: The chapter title is a lyric from the song 'Follow The Format' by Taking Back Sunday. Favorite band. Favorite song. Check 'em out if you haven't already.

To my dear, sweet, wonderful Evermist - Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you too. I am so, so very happy that you've liked the story this much because when I decided to post it, I wasn't so sure how I felt about it. You're reviews are like happy little rays of sunshine. I am not worthy. Also, I'm kinda glad you think romance is icky because its about to get kinda messed up, and it only gets worse from here...
And away we go!


CHAPTER 12


SHOW ME JUST HOW VICIOUS YOU CAN BE

Mello had already exhausted every trick in the book in regards to getting out of classes on his thirteenth birthday.
This was unfair! It was cruelty! Not that the other kids received special treatment, but they didn't have a gorgeous boyfriend that they'd rather be spending the afternoon with. At least, not as far as he knew. Sure, they had lives outside of school, but he liked to think that the things they enjoyed did not have nearly as much meaning as what he was longing for. They weren't counting the seconds until they could kiss lips that were sweet and always tasted like chocolate. They didn't have a lover to hold, and be held by, while breathing in the scent of strawberry shampoo and post-sex sweat.

He'd been to the nurse that morning, complaining of stomach pains, a headache, a list of other maladies that couldn't easily be explained away. The excuse ought to have been enough to prescribe a day of bedrest, especially when he blinked crocodile tears, held his hand to his head and whined. It hurt, he couldn't possibly concentrate in his lessons. To be forced to do so would only cause further pain. If he could just be sent back to bed, he could sleep this sudden illness away, possibly even fully recovering in a day or two. The young lady, who'd only just recently moved in, had already seen a number of boys his age with similar undiagnosable problems. Some of them came with the intent to scam an unplanned vacation day, but the majority because she was young and pretty and gentle. Unfortunately, though, not the least bit stupid. Figures.
So there Mello sat, pouting, picking at his black nail polish and listening to the lecture despite himself. He thought to recommend that L teach at least one of these classes, like he did sometimes for the smaller children. He was a much more entertaining speaker, especially when he chewed his thumb, considering what to say next. The detective was always had something in his mouth. His very lovely, very skilled mouth. The blonde, now thirteen years old (he assumed, not actually knowing his time of birth offhand), tried to push these thoughts away, noting that all they did was make his current situation all the more unbearable. He also knew that these thoughts could very well lead to some very embarassing problems that he did not want to have to worry about in this very crowded room.

He wanted to punish L, who he'd asked just last night to come up with a plan for him to stay in bed. The detective had first pointed out that that would seem very much like favoritism, and also that Mello should not let his education fall behind for any reason, even him (what a time he picks to be selfless. Fucker). L went on to remind him that he had already finished schooling, and was vastly wealthy and successful. If he felt like taking a day off, it was much more acceptable. Mello, partially out of frustration, and partially feeling rather annoyed that he'd lost the argument, ceased his whining to kiss his lover, only to bite the older man's lip a little more roughly than usual.

Mello hurried to L's room when the painful ordeal was finally finished, ready to let L make the day melt away, maybe gain at least a shred of sympathy despite the previous evening's discussion. His lover did him one better. He was greeted at the door by the gorgeous detective, a bowl of chocolate ice cream held out in front of him. The dish was monstrous, overflowing. There were bits of brownie, chocolate sprinkles, and hot fudge. There was even a chocolate flavored cone! Mello scooped up some of the treat with the spoon stuck deep into the bowl, filling the cone and handing it to his lover. L looked absolutely delighted at the gift, licking up some of the fudge that had dribbled onto his hand.
"Happy birthday."

"Yes, very happy birthday." Mello replied, chewing on a piece of brownie, then dipping the spoon back in for another mouthful. L watched the blond lick the spoon clean after each bite, eyes closed, savoring it. Mello had made this same exact face every time they'd made love and L had to remind himself that it was Mello's birthday. Not his own.

"I would have prepared a cake, but there wasn't enough time, and-"

"You're not allowed to play in the kitchen by yourself." It was becoming a common occurence for the two to finish each other's sentences now. L had asked Mello once why partners were called a 'couple', when it felt to him like they were two halves of a single person. Mello knew that this was the way L really felt. He wasn't trying to sound more romantic in order to please him, though his thoughts on love seemed to be stolen right from the mouths of prince charming and other famous lovers. It made him feel like a lovesick school girl...And sometimes very...undeserving of L's attention.

"So, it's your birthday. What would you like to do?" L asked when they'd finished his chocolaty treat. Mello smiled and took the bowl from the older man, setting it aside before pulling him out of his chair and over to the bed.

Mello pushed L down to sit on the edge of the mattress, giving his lover his trademark cheshire cat grin. "Sit. Watch," he said.

"But, its your - "

"My birthday, yes. I know L, I was there." L gave him a blank look as if to say, 'smart ass' but Mello ignored it. "And that's why you're going to shut your mouth like good boy and do as I say." L had always known that deep down, under his sometimes shy exterior, Mello was rather dominant but to say he wasn't slightly taken aback by the boys words would be a lie. This was different. Something seemed off, wrong in some way but he had no time to ponder it as Mello had begun sliding his shirt slowly up his chest, hand deliberately running over his smooth skn like he knew L loved to do. L was only a man. A brilliant man, but still a man with needs just like any other so when his lover pulled the garment off over his head and tossed it into the corner, he was suddenly drawing a blank, unable to think of what had been worrying him in the first place. L licked his lips, unable to help himself as his eyes roamed Mello's body. He knew he probably looked like a pervert, like a starving man eyeing a particularly appetizing piece of meat but Mello was smiling smugly. He loved the attention, knowing that he was wanted, desired. "Like what you see?" he asked. L could only nod, not trusting himself to speak without sounding like a complete moron. Mello's smile grew. "Well, then you're going to love this..."

He occupied the fingers of his left hand by running them lightly over his lips, slowly sliding them into his mouth in a rather suggestive manner. His right traveled down his neck, his chest, his stomach, to the front of his jeans where he unbuttoned them effortlessly (tricky), pulled the zipper down, watching L intently for his every reaction. When he thought he'd tortured him enough, he brought his left hand down to join the right, wet fingers following the same path, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in their wake. He slid his jeans down slowly off his hips, over his thighs, kicking them to the side when they'd reached the floor.

Mello crawled up onto the bed, straddling L's hips, and pushed the older man back until he was resting on his elbows, still staring at him in awe. L couldn't believe how...sexy he looked right then, and what an incredibly lucky he was. He never thought he'd be effected by someone like this but, here he was, so hard it was painful and he hadn't even been touched yet. And it only got better from there. Mello kissed him, holding nothing back, tongue forcing L's own to submit as it explored every bit of his mouth. L reached up to rest his hand on his lover's hip, something he'd learned the other boy liked, but Mello slapped it away, biting down hard on the older man's lip.

"No!" he said. "Don't touch me unless I tell you to!" L blinked up at him in surprise but did as he was told. Seemingly realizing how harsh his tone was, Mello smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry. Just go along with this. You'll like it, I promise."

Somehow, L doubted he would. Mello was actually beginning to...scare him, as strange as it sounded. He'd dealt with some of the most dangerous criminals in the world, murders, rapists, you name it, he's seen it. He shouldn't be frightened by a thirteen-year-old boy but this was a side of his lover he'd never seen before and it was surprising to say the least. Mello slid down his body, off the bed until he was kneeling on the floor between L's legs. He looked up at the older man as he began to undo his jeans. "Take your shirt off...please." L sat up and obeyd, then lifted his hips so Mello could pull off his jeans and boxers. He wasted no time taking as much of L into his mouth and halfway down his throat, wrapping his hand around what wouldn't fit. If L still had his wits about him, he would have marveled at his lover's ability to do so (though he was also a bit annoyed - he had yet to master the technique himself). Instead the older man moaned loudly, dropping back onto the bed as he instinctively reached down to run his fingers through Mello's hair. He was careful not to pull the soft blonde locks because the one time he did, Mello became very angry and he spent the rest of the night apologizing and very unsatisfied.

If Mello could have smiled, he would have. He loved pleasing L, even more than he liked recieving pleasure himself. It made him feel important. Like he was actually worth something for once.

"If Mello does not stop, I believe this will be over before it begins, unless that is his intention..."

Mello pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Hell no," he said, stripping off his boxers and climbing into L's lap. L moaned, eyes shut tight just the friction almost doing him in. Again, he reached for Mello only to have his hands slapped away once more. Mello grabbed a handful of his dark hair, jerking his head up. L opened his eyes in surprise, his gaze meeting Mello's icy blues. "What did I tell you? Don't touch me."

"Mello, I don't understand..." L tried, suddenly very confused. But the younger boy only narrowed his eyes. He shut his mouth and his eyes followed suit as Mello released his hair, grinding his hips into his own. He was only distracted for a second but it was a second too long, and he didn't realize what the hell was going on until Mello had already impaled himself on his dick in one quick movement. The boy let out a hiss of pain and L's eyes shot open. There was Mello, his beautiful Mello, head bowed, hair hanging over his face, palms pressed down on L's chest as his shaking arms struggled to hold him up.

After the shock had subsided, L grabbed Mello's shoulders, his first instinct to remove the boy as quickly as possible but stopped himself before he could carry out the action. It occured to him that Mello had neglected to prepare himself for the intrusion and saliva certainly didn't make a good substitute for proper lubricant. Any false move could very likely do him more harm than good as the possibilty of internal injury was at least sixty-two percent, at best. The odds we're not in his favor and L was never much of a gambler unless there was at least a ninety-seven percent chance that he would be the victor. Thirty-eight would not suffice, especially when his love was in danger.

"Mello, please - " L tried to protest but as soon as the words left his mouth, the blonde began to move against him, pushing himself up, then sliding back down none too gently. L moaned despite himself and instantly felt the urge to vomit. How could he possibly be getting pleasure from this when Mello was so clearly in pain? But really, it was just his body's natural reaction. There was just enough lubrication to make him feel amazing, (especially because this position allowed him to get much deeper than usual) but too little to make Mello anything but miserable. While he was barely turned on, L's body was on fire, the blonde's every shaky movement bringing him closer and closer to orgasm, but inside, every little pained whimper that passed through Mello's lips broke his heart.

Feeling that he should at least do something, he tried to give Mello pleasure as well, attempt to salvage what should have been a beautiful, intimate moment by wrapping his hand around the boy's erection but the blonde gave him a dark look, L could clearly see the tears in his bloodshot eyes, and slapped him away. "Don't," he growled, and L finally gave up, opting to cover his face with his hands and wait for it to be over. He actually hoped to reach climax soon just so his lover would stop torturing himself. But when he came, and Mello collapsed against his chest with a sob as L's semen stung his battered insides, he felt disgusting. Like the scum of the Earth. He felt like one of the many rapists he'd put behind bars in his career as a detective.

He felt Mello's thin body trembling against him, making him seem even more fragile than usual, and tried to wrap his arms around the boy, offer some sort of comfort, not knowing what else to do, but the blonde refused, instead pulling himself off of L's lap to lay beside him. He took deep, shaky breaths, eyes shut tight as he tried to calm himself. L didn't know what to do. He couldn't believe that had just happened. He turned to face his lover. Noticing he was still hard (how, he didn't know), he once again tried to help. And just like before, he was rejected. "Mello, please let me - "

Mello got to his feet without a word of explaination and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The older man got up to follow, but then, there was a click signifying that the door had been locked, and no, L was not welcome. A moment later, the shower was turned on and L pulled on his boxers, sat beside the door to wait. He heard sobs mixed in with moans, muffled by the sound of running water but that didn't take the edge off. He knew exactly what Mello was doing. He was masturbating. And he was crying while he did it.

Now, the older man didn't usually use profanity but the only thought that came to mind was, 'What the fuck?'.

L rubbed at his temples, trying to ward off the migraine he felt trying to sneak up on him. Yes, even the great L gets stressed out sometimes, and really, who wouldn't in his line of work? He'd seen more disturbing things before he was 12 than most adults had seen in their entire lives. Sometimes he wondered why the hell he did it but, he is justice. L is jusitce and if he doesn't do it, who will?

When he thinks about his successors - Mello, Near, Matt - he hopes to he'll live long enough for them to at least reach adulthood because no child should have to bear witness to some of the things being 'L' entitles. He'd like them to keep their innocence as long as they possibly can...Ha. Innocence. He'd taken Mello's innocence several times over, hadn't he? Though he knew he loved the boy, more than anything - there could be no other word to decribe how he felt (and he'd checked) - for the first time, he felt guilty about the relationship he'd initiated. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Mello really wasn't ready to handle this, if this new development said anything.

L sighed, he was so confused. What was he doing? Was he actually questioning a decision he'd made? That was impossible. He was L. L was never wrong. This wasn't the time to start getting cold feet, he'd finish what he started but, he had to get to the bottom of this. He needed to be the adult for once. For the sake of Mello's sanity, as well as his own.

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It was over an hour before Mello emerged from the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, his skin flushed pink from the temperature of the water. His eyes were still terribly bloodshot when he met L's gaze but he still managed to force a tiny smile. "Hey," he whispered.

"Mello, we need to - " L didn't even get the chance to finish his sentance.

"I'm really tired, can we just go to sleep?" he asked but he was already across the room, digging through the dresser drawer he'd claimed as his own. It took only a moment for the blonde to find his night clothes and he dropped his towel, dressing quickly. Before he could turn around, L was there, wrapping his arms aroud Mello's shoulders, kissing the top of his head, then pressing his nose into the crook of his neck. Mello actually smiled, turning his face to kiss the detective's cheek but instead, L caught his lips with his own. Just a quick little peck then he pulled back, staring into the blonde's bright blue eyes.

"Mello knows I love him very much?" Mello nodded, pressing his lips to L's forearm, the closest skin to his mouth. "Then surely Mello knows that I do not enjoy seeing him in pain." The blonde sighed, tried to pull away but the detective refused to let him.

"L..."

"Mello said I would enjoy that but then he intentionally caused himself harm. For future reference, I did not like it."

"I didn't mean to," Mello said quietly, looking away.

"You're lying. I don't particularly like that either."

Mello growled and shoved the older man away, turning to face him. His hands were clenched into fists, eyes full of rage. L was fascinated by how quickly the boy's mood could change - happy to sad to absolutely furious at the drop of a hat. Like he'd first thought, Mello was indeed a very complex puzzle. And he still hadn't even come close to solving it. Part of him hoped he never would.

"Fuck you, you didn't enjoy it. Your come in my ass says you liked it just fine!" he yelled.

"Please don't be so crude," L said, wincing internally when reminded of what he'd done. Guilt was such a strange emotion...

"Fuck you, L! I'll be as crude as I want to!"

"You are smart enough to know that physical pleasure is a body's natural reaction to stimulation and has absolutely nothing to do with what a person thinks or feels about the current situation. Mello is being very childish right now."

"Mello doesn't give a fuck! Now leave him the hell alone, he's fucking tired and he wants to go to sleep. Is that too much to ask?"

"I think we should talk about this."

"Talk about what?"

"Do not play dumb with me. You know very well that I am referring to your highly self-destructive tendancies."

"Quit fucking analyzing me! You're my fucking boyfriend, not my shrink!" Mello was positively screaming now as tears welled in his eyes. When the first few began to fall, he wiped them away angrily with his sleeve, furious with himsef for allowing someone - even L - to see him cry. Mihael Keehl did not fucking cry. Not anymore.

L just wanted to hold him but knew that trying to initiate physical contact with his lover at the moment was perhaps not the best idea. Instead, he tried reasoning with the boy, momentarily forgetting that Mello was definitely not a reasonable person and therefore such tactics were eighty-seven percent unlikely to work on him.

"That may be true but, I am very concerned by your behvior tonight. It is not healthy. I only want to help but I can not if you refuse to tell me what is troubling you. Please, Mello." L was begging. Actually begging. He never begged anybody for anything, he just told them what he wanted, when he wanted it, and where to put it when it got there. And that was that. Done. But this relationship was beginning to make him realize that he wasn't always going to get his way anymore. He'd have to give as much as he took. Usually, anything that took him this far out of his comfort zone was immediately disposed of but, Mello...For Mello, he was willing to try. No, not try - he was willing to do. "Please, Mello, just tell me what's wrong. I love - "

"There's nothing wrong!" Mello screamed.

"That is highly unlikely!" he shouted back, surprising the both of them. He never raised his voice. It didn't seem worth the effort when whatever was annoying him could simply be ignored. But Mello was not just another annoyance. He was a person he loved and respected, and was never to be ignored. Especially when he was in pain. "Mihael, I do not like seeing you like this. Please tell me, we're both highly intelligent human beings. We will find a solution."

Mello didn't answer this time, but dropped to his knees, hand going instinctively for his rosary. He began to mumble words in a language that L recognized as Latin, head bowed as he rocked back and forth, allowing his tears to fall freely now. Every time he paused, his fingers would move onto the next bead. The detective sighed and kneeled down beside the blonde, reaching out to tuck some hair behind his ear so he could see his face a little better. He knew better than to disrupt him in the middle of his prayers so he waited until he heard 'Amen' before he spoke.

"Mello, let's go to sleep now, okay?" The boy looked up, an expression of sheer relief across his pretty features. He smiled. God, Mello was beautiful. Even with tear tracks and bloodshot eyes, when the boy smiled, L thought he was the most magnificent thing he'd ever seen.

"Thank you."

L attempted to smile as he wiped the remaining tears from Mello's face. "Never mind that. You need your rest," He said. and took Mello's hand, helping him up. He led him over to the bed, watched him curl up on his side before he turned off the light and climbed in behind him. L wrapped his arms around the blonde's thin waist and kissed his hair, pulling the other warm body back as close as he could get. "At least tell me if you are injured." he murmered into the younger boy's hair. Mello shook his head and L decided to leave it at that. He didn't want to. He wanted to say something. He wanted to demand that Mello explain his actions but, it was no use to argue, Mello had a stubborn streak to rival his own and L feared that further discussion on the matter would only make the blonde angrier, less willing to talk. So instead he whispered, "I love you."

No answer.

L was frustrated, he wanted to scream. Dealing with the emotions he never thought he had was taxing enough. Trying to deal with someone else's, especially those of a hormonal teen, was damn-near agonizing.

Mello stared at the wall. He could feel his lover's warm breath on the back of his neck, strong arms holding him tight against his chest. He normally loved this kind of thing. He loved being held, being fawned over, listening to L tell him how beautiful he was, how special he was, but right now, all he wanted was for L to get the fuck away from him.

What the hell was wrong with him?

And what had he just done? He certainly hadn't been himself. When it was happening, he felt like he was watching it from a spectator's point of view. Like it had been someone else in his body, making him do all of those terrible things, disappearing once again when it was through, and leaving him with the aftermath. In pain. And very, very confused. To deal with L and all of those questions that he just didn't have the answers to. He knew L wanted an explaination, and Mello knew he deserved one after his behavior but how could he when he didn't even know himself?

Neither slept, and they both knew that it would be a very long time before they spoke of it again.