The Mello Code

Mello was slithering down Matt's body, his hands gripping the redhead's ribcage, kisses trailing down to his navel. Black painted fingernails raked down and Matt squirmed under him. The handcuffs rattled against the headboard, taut to the length of their chains. Blood bobbled up from the scratches and Mello's tongue lapped it up. His long fingers wrapped around Matt's shaft and started their work. Matt gasped aloud.



In truth, he had no idea how they came to be having sex again. It had begun with Mello remembering, just as they were getting into bed, that he hadn't applied the arnica and anti-septic paste to all that was injured beneath this jeans. That done, the blond suddenly asked for a cuddle and they had lay there, under the quilt, holding each other. Mello had felt calmer, pacified, morphing into that more gentle aspect of himself that Matt had labelled 'Mihael'. Then they had started kissing; the kisses grew more heated, the handcuffs had come out and now it was, "Oh God! Mello!"



Mello chuckled. The hand that had just scratched down Matt's inner thigh now pushed it aside, spreading his legs to accommodate Mello's shoulders, as the blond ducked down to lick where his fingers had traced. He sucked on each of Matt's balls in turn, before running his tongue up to the head. Matt writhed, nearly kicking him in the arm. Mello caught his leg, wrapping his arm around it with a flexing of muscles. He sat up, carrying the leg with him. "Let me see you." His gaze took in the whole of his husband's body with a self-satisfied smile playing beneath it. "You are fucking beautiful, Matty. Especially when you're naked, tied down and bleeding, as opposed to giving me lip."



"Will you just get on with it, Mihael!"



"Gag." Mello dropped Matt's leg and dived off the bed again. He returned with a ball gag and forced it, none too gently, between Matt's teeth. It was secured tightly around the back of his head. Mello bent down, sucking along Matt's jugular, leaving lovebites in his wake. "What else?" He stared down. "I haven't seen you with a black eye for ages. I don't tend to go for your face anymore."



Matt stared up, bracing himself. His face used to be a favourite of Mello's to mark. Back at the flat, while Mello was still in the Mafia and therefore away from home for days on end. He used to leave lovebites on Matt's cheek, so that the redhead would be too embarrassed to leave their home. The fist came down and an explosion of pain wracked through Matt's right eye. He saw stars and a headache stabbed almost immediately. It felt like his whole eyeball had just erupted. He cringed through blurred vision and hoped that the liquid on his lashes and cheek were tears and not blood. He resolved to kill Mello the second he was untied. But then there were kisses over the burning and fingers again cupping his balls and Matt gasped against the gag.



Mello rode him, pushing Matt's knees up against his chest, then to the sides, so he could rain kisses down. His grip bruised; the ramming at his arse ignited the welts already smarting there; but when the orgasm came it was intense. Matt lost the rhythm of his breathing through his nose and nearly choked on his own drool, trying to scream out his ecstasy. Above him, Mello wore a Cheshire Cat grin and came inside him, shrieking his name, "Mail! Oh my Mail! My Mail! Love you! Love you! Love you so much, Mail!"



It took a shower and a lot more arnica and anti-septic paste, before they were back where they started, getting into bed. "Well," Mello commented, inspecting him with a long gaze, "you look pretty beaten up."



Matt flashed a smile, "Wonder why." He retaliated with a punch to Mello's arm, which was received with a laugh, then crawled into Mello's embrace. "You ok, Mihael?"



Mello nodded, though his eyes share the sentiment. He stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly, though there were no tears in evidence. "You're convinced, aren't you? That Hal is working for the American government and/or Near on this one." His fingers stroked absently through the thick, red hair against his shoulder. Matt kissed his chest. "Is it something you've logically worked out? Or is this another example of your zero tolerance for anyone who even so much as might have gone against you and yours?"



"I think there's reasonable doubt." Matt realised that this was all wrong. It was Mello who needed the cuddle, not himself. He rose slightly and slid off the blond. "Come here." His arms wrapped around Mello's back, as his husband turned into him. "You think your world is turning against you. All we've ever had is each other and our brains. You've got looks as well, of course."



"You're hardly ugly, Mail."



"Yeah, one of the beautiful people, got it. Angel, it looks to me highly suspicious that this came from Hal. It puts her right in the frame for setting you up. Near is well placed to be the instigator with the motive that you are his main competitor. He's never going to be secure in the L code with you nipping at his heels." Matt sniffed. "The question is, how much does he enjoy sparring with you?"



Mello closed his eyes, his face burying itself into Matt's hair. "I think he loves sparring with me. He's not surrounded with people even nearly his intellectual capacity. Near is going to get as bored as we do."



"True. Or he's going to see you as competition."



"If I was L..." Mello considered his words again and found them to be true. "If I was L, I would want you and Near in the world. You, not just for the obvious reason, but also because you are back-up, whether you like it or not. Even Lawliet thought like this. He helped Mr Wammy and Roger create the House that we grew up in. He set things in place that we would know that he was dead and he created the Mario Clause. Lawliet would have chosen his successor, because he knew, as well as we do, that one is needed. Near knows too. Where would be be, in facing the next Kira, if there weren't reserves waiting behind the curtain? Near does not want me dead because..."



"Dead?" Matt interupted. "Mello, this isn't life or death, this is imprisonment."



Mello wrinkled up his nose. "Same thing."



"Ok, for what it's worth, I agree with you. Near has had several opportunities to see you dead and he hasn't acted on them. He let you go in New York."



Mello raised his eyebrows, saying indignantly, "He had no choice but to let me go in New York. I'd have shot the fucker if he'd tried to stop me."



Matt brought his fingers up and placed them over Mello's lips. "I'm talking now. Sssh." His husband's blue eyes focused upon him, as if daring him to say something stupid. "From how I heard it, Rester, Gevanni and Lidner could all have emptied clips into you, the way you turned your back on them all, while you were busy crowing at Near. You and he had a show of strength, but it was all bravado on your part and you know it. Yes, you could have taken at least one out as you entered, but you were in the weaker position. Near could have had you killed." Matt shrugged against the pillow. "He didn't. That could also have been the Kira factor. However, he could also have had you taken out or locked away, while you were restrained during, you know, the Mario Clause incident."



"No. You were surety for that." Mello spoke through the fingertips still touching his lips. "You surely realised the strength of your position then."



"Oh yes." Matt smiled. "I has brain, kay?"



"Right, Matt." Mello peered at him. "Yet you really were never tempted to take it."



"Fuck no." Matt twisted his head to plant a kiss on his husband's lips. "Nothing in the world would convince me to take it, if I was the last Wammy kid standing."



"You're weird, but I love you."



"Volim te." Matt frowned. "Ok, so that wasn't a..." He caught the breathy laugh behind Mello's smile. "What now?"



Mello started chuckling. "Nothing. I just love how you've learned to say 'I love you'. 'Volim te' means absolutely nothing to you, doesn't it? It's just foreign words in a language I've banned you from learning. You say it because you know I want to hear it and it gets you brownie points. I do love you, Matty. I love the way your mind works. I love the casual way you find to bypass things that embarrass you. Look me in the eyes and say, 'te amo'."



Matt smiled. He wriggled around until their faces were inches apart. "Te amo." Mello kissed him and Matt grinned over it. "Now I've dodged that bullet, back to Near..."



"Say it again."



"Does the little girlie want me to say romantic things to him?" Matt stroked back Mello's hair. "Pretty Mihael! Niño bonito! Te amo; te deseo, amado mío."



Mello sighed. "Go back to volim te, you sarcastic bastard."



Matt grinned. "Maybe I was only saying volim te, because when I tell you that I love you, I want you to hear it in your mother tongue. I want you to take it right in and believe it." Mello looked at him, conveying more about how dubious he felt about that statement than anything he could have said aloud. "Take it or leave it, angel. If you need to hear it, you don't know a thing about me anyway."



Mello smiled. "Ok, you're off the hook." He tightened his grip with the arm that had been lying languidly across Matt's back. His lips closed over Matt's again, starting gently, but gaining momentum. "Te amo, guapo."



"Volim te." Matt bit his lip. "How do you say 'angel' in Serbo-Croatian?"



"Anðeo."



"Volim te, anðeo." Matt blinked. "My fucking eye is still stinging."



Mello's expression was utterly unreadable. "Bastard, aren't I?"



"Yes." Matt kissed him again. "I'm going to crash now and hopefully it will have gone down a bit by tomorrow." He turned and moved out of Mello's grasp. The edge of the quilt was pushed underneath him and Matt rolled until he was completely encased in it.



Mello sighed. "That's me dismissed."



Matt froze. He pulled the top of the quilt down to survey his husband. "You've had a shag and a cuddle." He watched Mello just blinking at him. "And I said 'I love you', several times."



Mello nodded. "I'm just spoiled rotten."



"Mell, don't crack up on me, kay?"



Mello's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Matty, we have a king-sized bed. I've got about three miles of space here to loll apart in, feeling lonely, while you barricade yourself into less than a foot of space right at the end. I might as well be sleeping alone. Has it never occurred to you that being held while you fall asleep might be nice?"



"I can't sleep if I'm being held."



"Bollocks! I've known you do it. You've fallen asleep in my arms before now."



Matt sighed. "So you want me to hold you until you fall asleep, then I can come back in here where it's warm and comfortable?"



"Forget it, Matt." Mello turned over, curling up right at the other side of the bed. A vast space opened up between them, growing colder by the second, in part because of the icy chill radiating out from the Slav.



Matt watched him. Mello's back remained resolutely turned towards him, though an arm did dash out to brusquely pat the quilt down around him. Matt smiled. Mello would get over it. "Night, anðeo." There was no response. Matt shook his head slightly and burrowed his way back into his roll of quilt.



Several minutes later, Mello whispered. "Goodnight, guapo." Matt heard him, as he drifted off to sleep.