Watari Pt 1: L\'s Heirs

The hotel was unbearably warm, particularly on the sixth floor. It made the leather stick to Mello\'s body and distracted his thoughts. Both he and Matt had shed their jackets shortly after entering the lift, but Mello still blew the hair from his forehead in an attempt to cool down. There was a lot to think about. He hadn\'t said a word to the redhead since Lamond had dropped them off on the other side of Leicester Square. Matt was doing that thing where he puffed his cheeks out slightly to convey the impression that he was completely gormless and currently not thinking of anything at all. It was annoying.



"I expected more of you." Mello snapped as the lift door finally opened on their floor and they stepped into the sauna of a corridor. "Why do I keep making the mistake of assuming that you have a brain in your head and you\'re watching for clues? You were third, Matt, not thirteenth." He pushed the plastic card into the keypad and watched the red light turn to green. Bustling through, Mello didn\'t even wait to turn on the lights before opening both windows as far as they would go. Blessed cool air rushed in. "Which possibly means that I\'m missing something. Am I missing something, Matt?"



The redhead had dumped his bag on the floor and was looking around for an ashtray. His personal confirmation that their room was, indeed, a smoking room. He gestured in a way that could be construed as innocence or could be \'I don\'t know\', then carried the tiny kettle into the bathroom to fill it up. Mello glared at the space he had inhabited and fanned himself at the window. Matt returned to plug the kettle in. "Mell, you had half of your conversation in your head. I have no idea what you\'re pissed off with me about."



Everything about the way Matt moved, spoke, acted, looked and breathed was irritating Mello. He took his chocolate out of his jacket pocket and leaned as far out of the window as he could. The ridiculous fire regulations meant that that wasn\'t far. The window was nailed in such a way that it only opened a few inches. The chocolate tasted good. His thoughts started to realign themselves; facts presented in a more orderly fashion; emotions that made more sense. Mello took a few deep breaths and started to analyse them. As the mug of hot chocolate was eased onto the windowsill beside him, he even felt able to have a civil conversation again. "I think that went alright." He paused. "Overall."



"It was interesting." Matt replied, aiming for neutrality.



"Why did you show fear when I pulled the gun?" Mello turned now, sure that he could see Matt without wanting to punch him. The redhead was staring up at a fan fastened to the top of the wardrobe. It was about a foot too high for him to reach it. "Well, that\'s crap! That\'s just going to ventilate the ceiling. It needs to come down further!"



Matt flashed him a long-suffering glare, "That\'s precisely what I\'m looking to do, Mello."



"Matt, don\'t piss me off any more than you already are." Mello glared back a lot harder. He watched Matt take his keychain out and search through for a little screwdriver. Before climbing up on the chair though, he crossed to the window and attacked the screw there. Behind Mello, a cool breeze washed through the newly opened window. He extended his arms and then lifted his hair up from his neck. "You were actually aware that that little meeting was more than a sharing of information? It was a bunch of ex-Wammy kids working out their current rankings in this world. I think I successfully beat them all." Mello watched Matt climb onto the chair and stretch up to inspect the fan. It was a tight fit and he was still too short to really see what he was doing. "Oh for fuck\'s sake." Mello strode across and patted his legs. "Give me the screwdriver." They swopped places. Mello\'s extra inch in height, coupled with the block heels of his boots, allowed him to see over the top. He unscrewed the fan and handed it down. The room was already cooling. "Why did you show fear?"



"When you pulled the gun?" Matt held out a hand for Mello to take, but the blond disdained it to jump in the opposite direction. "Because you had just said you were influenced by Beyond Birthday and you had a really, fucking scary look on your face."



"I thought we agreed that you weren\'t to be scared of me." Mello scrowled, striding across to recover his hot chocolate. The breeze had rendered it half-cold. "Idiot! I knew precisely what I was doing. I\'d been looking for the opportunity all night and you handed it to me when you threw the pillow. Now they know that, while I went to apologise, I\'m still not a good person to challenge. Mentally or physically. That message will get back to Linda and Jonny too. You\'re like a fucking lamb to the slaughter, Matty. You just go in, all oblivious, then lie down and play dead."



"Right."



"However, you aren\'t quite as stupid as Nathalie. Leaving you sitting there with her laptop logged on." Mello grinned as Matt looked up startled. "I pulled the whole \'I\'m in the Mafia\' thing and got her wrist, because at least I was paying attention. You kept glancing at her, so I knew you needed her distracted. What did you do?"



Matt sorted through his key-ring and held up a memory-stick. "First I copied all of her files, including her contacts, then I opened my server and installed a trojan."



"Clever boy." Mello surveyed his lover. He\'d pushed his goggles up onto his head when he had been trying to see the fan screws, so there were little flashes of green within the alabaster of his skin, as he sought to locate his cigarettes. "I suppose that if I asked you why, you\'d answer \'because I could\'."



"Because I could." Matt bobbed his tongue out and smirked. He sat down on the bed and lit up.



Mello\'s mind skipped to the next point on his cerebral agenda. The secrets that Linda and, indirectly, Lamond had revealed. The emotions there were more complex. Guilt, anger, self-loathing that he had been the cause of Matt\'s suicide attempt, resentment that it had not been him to save him. Annoyance again, that he had had to learn about it like that. Disappointment that Matt had allowed something to be there to be used as blackmail against him. Fear. Mello brushed the last away. It was not helpful. "I lied to you earlier."



"Oh really?" Matt\'s eyes slid sidewards to glance at him, then went back to staring towards the open window.



"I said I wasn\'t angry with you over trying to kill yourself when I left Wammy\'s. I am. I\'m fucking furious in fact." Mello watched Matt nod, but he didn\'t reply. He wanted him to. He wanted Matt to ask why he was furious or to deny him the right to be furious. Some kind of castigation. Anything but blind acceptance. Mello challenged it himself. "You might ask why." Then he floundered. The answer was threefold and, while extremely important, they wouldn\'t compute in Matt\'s language. The fires of the eternal Damnation held no fear for his beloved redhead.



Mello had paused too long. Matt supplied the prompted question. "Why?"



"Because it\'s fucking selfish! You have not got the right to take your own life!" Mello raged. "What the fuck did you think I\'d have done if you were successful? Hurt like Hell. That\'s what. But I\'m doing that anyway. You self-absorbed, egotistical wanker." He watched Matt bow his head and wanted to add softer things, like \'look at you, you\'re perfect; you\'re gorgeous; I love you; don\'t leave me\', but all he did was suck a square of chocolate and sat down on the chair. He wasn\'t sure what was weakness anymore. "Twice, Matt. Twice! It is never a solution. Never."



"Sorry."



"Sorry!" Mello scrowled, feeling the emotion welling up again. He couldn\'t tell if it was going to erupt as tears, fists, shaking him or kissing him. He pushed it back down and knew that something had to give. Nothing permanent. Just something to quiet himself tonight. He was too het up, too hyperactive, too all over the place. "I forbid you from attempting suicide ever again. I own you, Matt, remember? I forbid it. You take your own life and you are damaging my property." Matt had looked away and Mello could tell he was hiding a smile. "I\'m deadly serious." Mello rose and crossed the room to take Matt\'s chin and turn it towards himself. "I want to torture you."



The green eyes widened and a faint frown appeared, then a smile. "Torture? Sounds a bit strong, but..." He shrugged, already contextualising it within all known precedents. "Mell, please remember you promised about my arm?"



"Not to bruise your right arm, because you\'re having your tattoo done tomorrow. Finally." Mello smiled, enjoying the transparency of thoughts on the redhead\'s features. "Seeing as you asked so nicely, I\'ll honour that request. No, Matty, I meant torture." The uncertainty in those green eyes sent a jolt straight through Mello\'s loins. "I\'ve been thinking of something for well over a week now, but I thought it would be too cruel." Now there was actual fear in that gaze, quickly being suppressed under something more taunting. You\'ve just about pissed me off enough to try it out. See if I like it." Mello stepped back, knowing how intoxicating he too looked, in the leather and with that smile on his face. He deliberately looked at Matt like he was just his prey, being toyed with, like a cat plays with a mouse, before the kill. Knowing the power of imagination in the inducement of fear, Mello decided to give Matt time to consider the implications of the word \'torture\'. "I\'ll have another hot chocolate, please." He held out his mug and, once it was taken, returned to the window. "Oh, and Matt?"



"Yes?"



"Take your clothes off please." Behind him, there was a short hesitation which made Mello smile. Matt was nervous then. Mello counted that as a victory. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to faze Matt before he\'d laid a finger on him. A couple of thuds, followed by the rustle of denim and the clanking of a keyring signalled that his orders were being obeyed. As often happened during these moments, Mello felt the power surge through him, trailing the tiniest hint of nerves behind it. The tightness of his leather trousers became uncomfortable. He heard the kettle being filled and plugged in again. The ripping of a sachet of hot chocolate. Then silence. Mello turned to give the naked redhead the once over. Matt looked very pensive, as yet not aroused. He would be. "You still have your goggles on your head."



Matt pulled them off, his hair rising behind them, then flopping back down to cover his eyes. He didn\'t have a cigarette, but his fingers strayed to his mouth anyway, as if he did. He bit an edge off his nail. "Torture?"



"Oh yes." Mello sashayed across the carpet and took a handful of red hair, pulling it back to expose his lover\'s throat. He kissed him on the lips, tongue invading, knowing that the position made it difficult for Matt\'s tongue to cross in reciprecation. He didn\'t touch him, though he wanted to. To touch that skinny body now could be seen as reassurance and the last thing he wanted was to put Matt at his ease. Mello pulled away and released the head, returning to his station by the window. "Torture."



Mello leaned out of the window, his mind spinning back to the events of the day. It was both welcome and unwelcome. He needed to think of something or else the sight of Matt so apprehensive would speed things up too quickly. However, the analysis of the meeting at Nathalie\'s home was too absorbing. It had the potential to lure him away from the things that he had in mind. He focused on just one aspect, his own behaviour. Had he played his part well enough? How could each of his actions and reactions be misconstrued? Had all of his messages been delivered as carefully as he had planned?



Matt interupted him by loitering behind with a cup of hot chocolate in his hand. Mello took custody of it and raised an eyebrow. Matt knelt. He spoke very quietly. "You\'ve never called it torture before."



"Haven\'t I?" Mello responded lightly. "Maybe that\'s because what I have planned is in a new league." He smirked. "Have a cigarette, Matty, calm your nerves." Matt didn\'t need telling twice. He crawled over to the bed and retrieved the packet there. He sat leaning up against the bed and smoked. Mello sipped his chocolate and sniggered. It was gratifying to witness the redhead start at the sound. "I love watching you trying to relax, when you know you are going to suffer. Really suffer. I will take you over and you will let me. Eternal torment."



"Eternal?" Matt asked, looking up sharply.



Mello smiled and quoted aloud the first thing that came to mind. It was from Milton\'s \'Paradise Lost\', "\'Evil be thou my good.\'" It was meant to just frighten Matt a little more. A drip-drip of psychological torture to foreshadow the reality. But Mello remembered the last time he had said that and a shadow passed his face. The first time he had known that he was in the Mafia, not just potentially, nor marginally, but exactly where he needed to be, Mello had stared around a room and felt his morality thundering down around his ears. "\'Evil be thou my good.\'" Mello had said aloud then, as again now. Only now he didn\'t continue with the rest of the quotation, \'by thee at least, Divided empire with Heaven\'s King I hold, By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign; As Man ere long, and this new world, shall know\', as he had then, never quite knowing if he referred to Rod Ross, Near or the Archangel Michael Himself. Mello blinked and swam back to the present towards a life-line of worried green eyes. "Ok, enough." Matt cringed and Mello smirked. "What you do to your own head..."



Mello drained the last of his hot chocolate and kicked off his boots. He stripped in front of Matt, knowing well enough how that would confuse his lover. Most of their situations involved Mello being dressed a lot longer than this. There was power in being clothed while your victim was naked. The blond kissed his rosary, which further widened Matt\'s eyes. Normally Catholicism was the last thing that was highlighted at times like this. Then he leapt over Matt\'s head, onto the bed and lay down. "Come and lie with me, Matty."



Matt stubbed out his cigarette and eased himself backwards to lie beside his lover. He noted the lack of toys, no handcuffs, no gag, no belt, nothing. "The torture. It was psychological."



"Oh, you wish." Mello smirked. "I haven\'t even begun yet." He stretched languidly. "I\'m just trusting you not to scream." He peeped out from under his blond fringe, blue eyes drinking in the pensiveness of his lover\'s expression. "I obviously haven\'t tried this in reality, else you would have been there, but I\'ve imagined it a lot. I think it\'ll work."



"Right." Matt replied, his lower lip trapped between his teeth. "So this isn\'t making it up as you go along. This is a proper sexual fantasy." Mello nodded, still smiling, as he watched the thought processes behind that beautiful emerald gaze. "It\'s something you\'ve fantasised about, but never considered... what? Safe enough?... to actually do before." Mello reached out to push back a lock of red hair. "But all that stuff about eternal torment. It\'s not something you just thought I\'d laugh about. Right?"



"Oh no, guapo, you won\'t be laughing." Mello\'s hand glided down across his lover\'s back and brought them face-to-face. "In fact, much of this hinges on you crying."



"\'kay." Matt released his lip and exhaled. "Ok, I\'m suitably shitting myself. What are you going to do to me?"



"You\'ve got goosebumps."



Matt swallowed and nodded slightly, "I\'ve got the full force of the fan on my back."



"Your skin is warm." Mello smiled. "You\'re already getting hard."



"I\'ve got a pretty blond pressing his naked body up against me and putting his leg over me. It happens."



Mello\'s hand sneaked out from under him and held Matt\'s. "I\'m here." He watched, with a smile, the flash of fear at the reassurance before anything had actually happened. Mello\'s other hand travelled across Matt\'s buttocks and thigh, pushing between his legs. They opened and Mello kissed him. "Thank you." Mello fingers, so gently, caressed the soft skin of his scrotum and then all five nails dug in hard. Matt bucked beside him, a shriek strangled with a kiss. His hand tightened around Mello\'s and was squeezed in return. His eyes started watering. "Ah! There we go." Mello lifted his chin and kissed the falling tears. "It\'s alright, it\'s alright." His fingers continued their cruel grip on Matt\'s balls. "Thank you for not screaming."



"Mello." Matt gasped, but was silenced with more kisses. The nails were eventually withdrawn, only to scratch up the length of him, for the thumb to press into the tip. His screech was swallowed by Mello\'s mouth, covering his, tasting his pain like a succubus. The redhead struggled, but Mello stroked his hand until he settled.



"You\'re beautiful, Matty. Really beautiful." Mello murmered, soothingly, once enough time had passed that he was sure Matt was neither going to cry out again or move. "Use your hand on me. Gently." He lapped at the tears, lips closing on the source of them. "Remember to be gentle with me." Meanwhile, his own hand pinched and pressed, seeking out the sensitive skin with its bundles of nerve endings and puncturing it with his nails. "Gently, guapo." Mello\'s gaze was fixed on the white face in front of him. He wasn\'t sure that those eyes, closed in agony, were still watering or if those were real tears now. But Mello kissed them, as Matt tenderly, slowly, worked him towards orgasm. "Oh yes! Exactly as I imagined it. Exactly."