Infatuation

Mello awoke with the distinct sense of life being completely perfect. He yawned and stretched contentedly, bellowing a "GOOD MORNING!" at Matt, who mumbled something about nothing being good ever before picking a wedgie and rolling over.

Not disheartened by this in the slightest, Mello picked up a calculus textbook and began to work all of the practice problems--there was to be a test in about a week, and he would DEFINITELY beat Near THIS time. For Near was a mere child--immature and petulant, not learned in the ways of the world as Mello was.

Matt slowly woke up, taking about an hour of expelling gasses in every way he could think of and rubbing his eyes blearily. When he saw what Mello was up to, he made an exasperated sound and rolled his eyes.

"That test isn't for another week and a half! Come on, I wanna play something."

Mello sighed, placing his pencil inside the book and closing it.

"Like what?" Matt shrugged simply.

"I dunno." After a few seconds of careful pondering, his entire face lit up. "Double-O seven!"

Mello didn't want to betray how excited he was at the idea of playing a James Bond video game (the guns! the shooting! the outfits!), but his frightening grin of pure elation gave him away.

They played well into the afternoon, eating from Mello's chocolate stash sporadically and screaming in anguish when poorly-rendered blood inevitably filled the screen.


At four-thirty, however, Mello happened to glance at his nightstand clock. He carefully put up the controller, ignoring with some difficulty the screams coming from his character, who had been left at the mercy of Matt. Satisfied by the carnage he had caused, Matt shot Mello a look of incredulity.

"What the HELL are you doing? You just LET me beat you!"

Mello flicked his hair back in imitation of casualness. "I've got stuff to do." Matt narrowed his eyes.

"That's what you said before, and then you were gone for a long-" he cut himself off, eyes widening and nose curling. "You're not...you're not going to-" Mello shrugged.

"I don't know. It depends, I guess." Ignoring Matt's stammers of protest, he left their room and made his way to L's, knocking confidently and smiling when Mr Wammy opened the door.

"L, Mello is here."

"Just a minute, please." Watari smiled at Mello and went off down the hallway, presumably to do very important things. Mello had the idea of saying something polite to him, but he became distracted when he heard what sounded rather like furniture being moved. What on EARTH was L doing?

"All right, you may come in now." Mello started a bit when he entered the room and saw that L had, in fact, been moving furniture. His chair was against the back wall, and three tables formed a sort of blockade around him. These were covered with plates of food, papers, computers--the usual--as well as several pillows and what looked like couch cushions covered in bed-sheets.

"You sit there." L gestured toward a comfy chair on the opposite side of the room. Mello scowled.

"Why did you build yourself a FORT?"

"It is better to be overly-prepared than unprepared," L said sagely. "It is best, I think, that we stay on opposite sides of this room. That way, there shall be no repeat of last night's...incident."

Mello's head suddenly felt very hot. He could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears. Everything seemed mildly blurred. His hands twitched.

"...Incident?"

"Yes. Incident."

"If you fell down the stairs, that would be an INCIDENT." L blinked and murmured a quiet "Oh, dear".

"If you got in a fight with somebody, that would be an INCIDENT. Last night was not. A fucking. INCIDENT!" Mello lunged at the tables and knocked over a bowl of candy, causing L to jump in alarm and give Mello a stern look.

"Well, I hardly think THAT was necessary!" Mello responded by picking up a piece of candy and chucking it at L's forehead. "Look, Mello--I don't like to disappoint you, but I need to set some sort of boundary. We can't be together."

"You can't--you can't do that!"

"What, exactly, can't I do?"

"You can't just...You can't DO this to me!" Mello punctuated himself by stomping his foot periodically in an excellent, if unintended, imitation of a two-year-old.

"You have to see that you're being overdramatic."

"Am not! You're being...you're being EVIL! I can't believe you're DOING this to me!"

"Mello, I haven't done ANYTHING to you. Look, why don't you sit down and we can talk this out." Mello glared up at him.

"Is the conclusion of that talk going to be that you slept with me even though you don't want to be with me?"

L said nothing.

"...Fine," said Mello slowly, backing into L's bathroom.

"Mello?" L sounded deeply concerned. "What are you doing?"

"Why should I tell YOU? 'S not like you care!" He slammed the door behind him and heard L scrambling to escape his own barricade as he dug through the drawers frantically, looking for L's razor. Surely he HAD one...ah. There.

Mello shook quite a bit as he rolled up his left sleeve; L flung the door open and looked in horror at the scene before him.

"Mello, please don't do that. It would not be very--oh, no." Mello had lifted the razor and swung down as hard as he could at his forearm.

He immediately felt both very afraid and very stupid. There was quite a bit more blood than he felt he had signed on for, and the pain was causing his eyes to water again. It was working, though: L was distraughtly looking about for something to put over the cut, and he had grabbed Mello's right hand in his on, presumably to stop him from hurting himself again. Though Mello was quite pleased that his impromptu plan had gone so swimmingly, L seemed close to tears; he was repeating Mello's name sadly under his breath--this was more emotion than Mello had ever seen him display, in fact.

L found a washcloth and roughly tied it around Mello's arm. Satisfied with this, he crouched over even more than usual, so that he was at Mello's eye-level.

"Don't do that."

"I went horizontally, not vertically. I wouldn't've died or anything."

"If you blindly hack at yourself, the direction doesn't really have much to do with it." L covered his face with one hand, keeping the other firmly attached to Mello's wrist. "I suppose that was MY fault, was it? Driven you to acts of self-harm, have I?" Mello nodded furiously.

"Damn right it's your fault! Now let go of me!" He struggled pointlessly against L's strong grip, twisting and pulling and only succeeding in gaining what would probably turn into a bruise.

"I am not about to let go of you if you intend to hurt yourself. Promise me you're not going to." L's eyes widened, giving the sense that he would be able to detect any falsification.

"I promise," Mello answered carefully, trying to prevent any hints of deceit he may have been projecting. L slowly let go, his body language clearly indicating that he would latch back onto Mello should he give any signs of lifting the razor again.

"Now put that down. On the counter." L watched as Mello obeyed. "Right. Now we are going to go back to my room," L pointed firmly at the door. "And we are going to discuss this. Using our words." He slouched out, waited for Mello to follow, and raised an eyebrow when he plopped himself casually onto the bed.

"What? I wanna be comfortable while you devastate me." L gave Mello a dark look and perched next to him.

"Mello, you have to stop speaking with the clear intention of guilting me. I will not be emotionally blackmailed."

"Not emotionally, huh? Hm. That's all right. I trust you remember our, ahem, conversation yesterday?"

L nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"You know, the one where you were telling me how it was 'implausible' because," Mello leaned forward for emphasis, causing L to lean back in response. "It's illegal."

"So is blackmail."

"Ah, but there are different levels of crime. I think statutory rape is a little worse than BLACKMAIL, don't you?"

L's upper lip was curled with disdain and disbelief. He was exhaling in indignant spurts, clearly struggling to find words to describe how appalled he was.

"Oh, I'm just kidding, L." Mello nuzzled L's shoulder. He stiffened in response.

"You are clearly not kidding. You have made it clear that you are not above threatening me and now, having said your piece, you are returning to the state of things so that I can make a decision based on the new information. You are also not fooling anybody."

"Mmm. I love you, L." L forced a laugh.

"If you think what you feel is love, Mello, you are VERY much mistaken..."

"Oh, and I suppose you think YOU know all about love?" L looked him directly in the eye.

"I know that when somebody loves somebody else, he would not blackmail the other party into being with him. I know that when two people love each other, it is a mutual and cooperative relationship. I know-"

"Mutual and cooperative. Because you didn't cooperate at ALL." Mello chuckled. "What happened to being asexual, by the way?" L's cheeks coloured, but he gave no other indication of embarrassment.

"I am going to explain this as clearly as possible. I do not actively crave romantic interactions. This does not mean that I cannot enjoy them, nor does it mean that I am immune to sheer friction."

"And now I am going to explain as clearly as possible. You can enjoy them, so why don't you?" L began to speak, but Mello raised a hand. "I know, I know, you don't 'actively crave' anything. But if you're CAPABLE of enjoying a relationship, and it'll keep ME appeased, why don't you just go the easiest route?"

"Morality."

"Morality didn't stop you taking the virginity of a fourteen-year-old boy, now did it?"

L made as if to speak, but was could find no defense and instead mumbled something about Mello's reasoning skills under his breath.

"Yeah." Mello snuggled up to L, who seemed too shocked to do anything. "So..." he licked the shell of L's ear, eliciting a sigh.

"Fine." Mello's eyes widened.

"Wh-fi-what? Really?"

"There's no need to sound so incredulous. You haven't left me with much choice."

"Well, yeah, but...but I thought-" L shook his head dismissively and, to Mello's complete shock, kissed him.

"What was THAT for?" L gave him a blank look.

"That was a kiss. I trust you know what those are for." Mello smiled bewilderedly.

"Well, I--do...do you want...to..."

"Mello, you are making this very awkward. I want you to be happy. What I might want for myself does not enter into it."

"Well THAT certainly makes things easier."

"Yes, it rather does," said L emotionlessly.

Mello bit his lip thoughtfully, then pushed L over--not a difficult feat, considering the way he was perched. L let out a small 'oof' of surprise before he was straddled and kissed rather brutally. L soon regained his composure, however, and sat back up, pulling Mello's shirt down off his shoulder and kissing the exposed skin in a startlingly tender manner.

"Mm, L, what're you doing?"

"There is no sense in being passive if I've agreed to this."

Mello's stomach gave a pleasing leap as L laid him down and licked at his neck. He had the sneaking suspicion that L was pretending he was some sort of candy, but it felt VERY nice anyway. L snuck a hand up the tight-fitting shirt and ran it lingeringly over Mello's warm skin. He smiled a little and slid a finger over Mello's lips; Mello nipped at it, then gasped when he felt the other hand slip into his jeans.

"Holy shit." L made a vague sound of confirmation and continued, tugging Mello's pants down and his shirt up--Mello lifted his arms so that the shirt came off completely then wrapped them around L's shoulders, digging his nails into L's shirt perhaps a bit too firmly and engendering a small grunt of discomfort.

L's fingers were moving slowly--slower than Mello would have liked--but a familiar pressure was building up nonetheless...then, quite suddenly, L stopped. Mello stammered loudly in protest, then quieted when L placed a finger over Mello's mouth to shush him. He watched, first in disbelieving indignance, then in equally disbelieving joy, as L lowered his face until he was even with Mello's hips, and-

OhholyJesusMarialovingGodalmightyfuck

L had the most talented tongue Mello had ever encountered. L was DEFINITELY pretending he was food now, though--Mello was certain he had seen him treat an ice cream cone in the exact same manner many, many times before. Lucky mother-fucking ice cream. Mello completely forgot to give L any sort of warning, but, he noticed, as he panted to catch his breath, L was not scolding him as Matt would have. How odd. Mello opened one eye and was very surprised to see that L wasn't spitting on anything or wiping his tongue on the sheets--he was simply, calmly, rubbing at the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

"Did...you..." L looked up.

"Did I what?"

"Did you SWALLOW that?" L furrowed his brow.

"Yes." Mello nearly fainted.

"That...that's HOT, L." L responded by procuring a Jolly Rancher from under his pillow and popping it into his mouth. He smiled awkwardly as Mello stared at his lips in fascination.

"Mello," he said rather suddenly. "May I kiss you?" Mello threw his head back and laughed.

"L, you can do whatever the fuck you want to do to me."

"Good." L leaned in--eyes half-closed--and pressed his lips against Mello's. Mello wound his fingers into L's hair and pulled him closer; he tasted of strawberry candy, and it was highly pleasant. He wrapped his legs around L's waist and brought their hips together, and sweet, L was definitely aroused. He was breathing quite hard in Mello's ear, taking deep, shuddering gulps of air and exhaling them slowly.

"L, please," Mello whispered. "Please, L, can we fuck now?"

L nodded feverishly and laughed a bit, leaning down to reach the same bottle of lotion from the previous night.

"Er...that's still there?" L gave Mello a blank look.

"I have been very busy, and moving it was not a pressing matter."

"Well THAT'S convenient."

"...Shush, now." Mello pouted a little at having been told to shut up, but he wasn't going to complain. What was the point in complaining when he was half-naked and on L's bed? And L was COOPERATING because Mello was brilliant, so this was all going very well indeed.

He felt L's hands sliding down his thighs, pushing the rough denim down around his knees. Mello kicked them off and there was L's hand again, this time at his knee, bending it up to his chest. It tickled a little, having L's hand on the underside of his knee like that, which concerned Mello slightly--he didn't WANT to be tickled--but then he found the anticipation too much to continue feeling concern.

The sounds of L's zipper and the snap of the bottle seemed muffled somehow. Almost unreal. Those sounds were of no consequence to Mello--all that mattered was that L was spreading his legs further apart with his knees and licking him all over, that L had one hand rubbing against him, that the fingers of L's other hand were inside him again and it surprised him because he needed this, he really needed this, and L knew it, too--he whimpered a little as he felt L begin to press up against him.

And then, quite suddenly, everything was once again horribly wrong. Mello had not, in all honesty, expected it to hurt so much AGAIN--wasn't that a first-time sort of thing? Shouldn't it at least hurt significantly LESS this time? And because the pain was unexpected, he had not been prepared to stifle the subsequent yelp.

L clapped a hand over Mello's mouth and looked down at him, horrified. He turned his head slowly to look at the door. It took Mello a moment to comprehend that he was hearing footsteps, and then a soft knock.

"Are you all right?" Mr Wammy's voice, though relatively quiet, seemed to ring in the air. L cleared his throat.

"Yes, Watari. Everything is fine." Once it was clear that he had gone, L uncovered Mello's mouth.

"I am going to have to ask you to not do that again."

Mello felt very indignant and opened his mouth to reply (he wasn't quite sure how--it would come to him, presumably), but L had already begun to move again, and all he could say was something to the effect of "nnngyuh". L responded with his own incomprehensible fusion of random syllables, and it struck Mello as absurd that two of the cleverest people in the world were making such sounds.

However, he did not dwell on this as there was the slightly more important matter of the jolts of almost-evenly mixed discomfort and gratification and the building pressure in his abdomen. Mello looked up at L's face and was dismayed to see that he looked almost ANGRY. Well THAT was odd...

Though, come to think of it, L hadn't bothered apologising this time, had he? Probably because Mello had cleverly convinced him that this was for the best. Unless L was just using him...but L wouldn't do that. Would he? Why would he be angry?

The slight twinge these thoughts were creating in Mello's chest was very quickly replaced by an intense relief from the strain Mello hadn't entirely realised he'd had, and the prolactin he knew was surging through his blood made it very nearly impossible to think about anything remotely complicated. He sighed contentedly as he felt L pull away from him and giggled a little out of giddy exhaustion.

L rolled off of the bed but caught himself on his feet in a crouch, zipping his jeans up as he stood up and stretched. Mello pulled a face at him.

"You're weird." L simply shrugged and tossed Mello's clothes at him. Mello half-heartedly pulled them on and kicked the covers around until he had settled himself satisfactorily.

"Sleeping here, are you?" Mello mumbled that yes, he was, and rolled over, already essentially lost to sleep.

"I love you, L," said Mello quietly before beginning to snore with his mouth open.

"...Mm." It was pointless, L reasoned, to bother lying to someone who was already asleep.