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Mello wasn’t meant to be home that evening. In fact, he hadn’t thought he’d be able to get back until at least the end of the week. In hindsight, that was probably why it happened. Or one of the reasons, at least.
But anyway. Mello arrived back at the flat at roughly nineish that Thursday evening. Matt wasn’t expecting him. He, meanwhile, wasn’t expecting to find Matt... well. He didn’t, at first. The flat, in fact, seemed eerily quiet. The light coming from the lounge was the sort given off by the pause screen of one of Matt’s games, but there was no sound of buttons, or of him fetching something from the kitchen, and no light from under the bathroom door either.
“Matt?” There was a rustle from the lounge. Then a thump. Then a muffled whimper. Mello frowned, and headed through to see Matt struggling with something, which turned out to be his jeans when he flicked the light on. “...Matt?”
Matt looked up at him, eyes wide as he wriggled, half-in, half-out of his trousers. “Mel!”
“No, it’s the bloodyfucking police commissioner, we’re here on a raid.” But despite the sarcasm, his arrival seemed to prompt whatever it took for Matt to finally get free, and he quickly scrambled to his feet, kicking his trousers away. “What’re you-?”
“Mel. Mel, thank fuck. You’ve- they say we’ve got to...”
Whatever it was they had to do went unspecified. Mostly because Matt reached him then, and started kissing him hard. And it was wet and all over the place and a little bit hot, but left of field as fuck, and so ridiculously far from how Mello had imagined a first kiss with him would be that he was still reeling. (Which didn’t mean he’d been imagining this with any sort of regularity. Or ever. Of course not.)
You’d have thought breath would have been a necessity at some point- or Mello would, at least- but apparently Matt was okay with going without oxygen for a while, which meant it was up to Mello to push him away.
“Dude, what the fuck?!”
It was then that he noticed that Matt was trembling. “Is someone threatening you?” Matt nodded, and Mello felt a kind of black fury. “Who?”
Matt swallowed, opening his mouth once, twice, before replying in a hushed voice- “Aliens.”
Mello shook his head. “Seriously Matt, this is no time to fuck around. Who the fuck is threatening you?”
“I told you,” and his voice was a little more resolute, if still terrified-sounding. “Aliens. They said we have to have sex, and if we don’t they’ll-” a sob- “you’ll die.”
Aliens. Worst fucking lie he’s ever-
And that’s when Mello spots the paper packet on the arm of the sofa. Christ. As if walking in on him wanking to tentacle porn a few weeks prior hadn’t been bad enough- at least he can be pretty certain that’s not frying Matt’s brain. The fury resurfaces, this time with a new target, and Mello shoved Matt back against the wall while he goes to grab the drugs. “The fuck were you doing with these?”
“It doesn’t matter!” Matt’s voice was getting a little more hysterical, but Mello didn’t particularly care at this point.
“You never fuck around with this stuff. Not ever. D’you hear me?” He shook the packet for emphasis, and turned to chuck the thing in the bin where it belonged.
What he wasn’t expecting (but probably should have been) was for Matt to leap at him as he opened the door to the kitchen, knocking him flat and apparently not realising that his efforts to turn Mello onto his back would go a lot faster if he were to get off it first.
Also if he hadn’t just given him the mother of all headaches. That didn’t help either. “The actual fuck-?!”
Matt was shaking properly now; he could feel it, hands trembling as he pawed at him. “Please, Mel. Please. Don’t want you to die.”
“I’m not going to die, Matt.” Mello rubbed at his forehead, wincing. “It’ll take more than a few aliens to bring me down.”
“Nonono, you can’t see them. They’ve got guns, Mel.”
Mello deadpanned. “So did the Mafia.”
“Big guns. Bigger. Ray guns. Laser guns. Fucking laser guns, Mel.” He was almost whimpering. “Just do it. Please.”
Mello opened his mouth to reply, but it was sort of caught in an ‘o’ shape. Matt’s hands had just moved down fast, his fingers inching below leather to grasp for Mello’s cock.
Fuck.
“Matt...” He was cut off again, this time by Matt’s mouth. His kissing was more precise now- if only a little- and he’d taken advantage of Mello’s mouth being open to introduce tongue to the equation. And really, he can’t help it if he moans a little when Matt first touches his dick. Or more than a little. This isn’t a fulfilment of various fantasies he might have had over the last few months or anything.
But it’s a warped one, and Mello can’t help but feel a little... less than pleased by the idea of fucking Matt when he’s this out of it. As such, he pushes Matt back and they stare at each other for a moment, both fairly breathless and Matt looking rather scared.
“So.” Mello ran a hand through Matt’s hair in lieu of being able to do anything more reassuring while he tugged Matt’s hand out of his trousers with the other. “Where are these aliens, exactly?”
Matt looked conflicted for a moment, then looked down. “You can’t see them. They’ve got a perception filter.”
“What, and it only works on- nnh!” Matt grabbed his crotch again, and again Mello shoved him away.
“Selective filter. Just. Trust me. Please, Mel?”
“Okay,” Mello tells him after a moment. “Can you get off my back, though? It’ll be a lot easier if you do.”
That, and Mello would find it a lot easier to hold him at arms’ length if they were facing each other. But Matt apparently hadn’t taken that into consideration, and so scrambled off him perfectly willingly.
Mello took his time getting off his front. He rolled onto his side first, facing away from Matt while he massaged his forehead. He saw the other boy shuffling forward on hands and knees out of the corner of his eye, and glanced around. Matt still looked terrified. He was even shaking, just a little.
...fine. Mello ignored the still-present twinge of guilt and pulled Matt in for another kiss, reasoning that if they were going to do this, they might as well do it properly. It wasn’t like he was ever going to get another chance after tonight, after all.
There was a moment where it was just him doing the work- a very brief one- before Matt relaxed against him with a soft little noise, kissing back a bit sloppily. He wasn’t shaking now, which was good. Presumably. And it wasn’t like they had to fuck. If it was sex the ‘aliens’ were after, there was always handjobs. Or rubbing against each other. Or Mello could just snog him until he fell asleep- that worked too. He’d just need a cold shower afterwards.
It quickly became evident that Matt had other ideas. He wriggled into Mello’s lap, tugging at the zip on his top, and Mello let him, figuring that he should probably let Matt take the lead for this. He’d stop him if he went too far. The top was slid off his shoulders and chucked to one side while Matt clutched at him, wrapping his arms around Mello’s torso almost tight enough to restrict his breathing. Which wasn’t what he’d been expecting him to do, but he was fine with it. Especially when Matt let go and pulled his own top off, too. Granted, he didn’t have much time to enjoy the sight before Matt was snogging him again, but it was good while it lasted.
Which wasn’t to say snogging wasn’t equally good. Or even better. Although Mello totally wasn’t moaning at all, nope, even if Matt was. Then Matt started grinding their hips together, and pretty much all thought beyond fuck and yes and God went flying out the window (though the latter was in a totally irreligious context. He really didn’t want to bring Catholicism into this.)
Matt shoved him onto his back at some point, and Mello ha d shoot a hand out behind his head to stop himself whacking it again, and another to the side to stop Matt overbalancing, which he looked to be in danger of doing. Trouble was, that left his trousers undefended, and Matt took advantage of the opening. Again, not like Mello had a problem with that, but after he’d shoved the leather trousers down and started on his own jeans, he opened his mouth to protest.
“Matt, what’re you-”
“Ssh.” He leant in to snog Mello again, pinning his arms to the floor with a surprising strength as he raised his hips to position himself above Mello’s cock. There was a moment, a brief one, to think shit this isn’t going to be good, and then-
He was tight (blindingly tight, God) and Mello very nearly saw stars. Then Matt’s whimpers broke through the haze, and he quickly shoved him off. Which of course only made him fall back and hit his head on the coffee table, and Mello winced in sympathy. “Shit. Fuck, Matt, are you okay?”
Matt blinked at him a little dazedly, eyes wide. He looked to be almost on the verge of tears. “Mel, I-”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Mello scooted over and wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. ‘I told you so’ seemed like the wrong thing to say at this point. “Idiot.”
“Mel, we have to...” Matt squirmed in his grasp, teeth worrying at his lower lip. “I mean, they’re-”
“Do you want to?” Mello drew back to look him in the eye. Matt bit his lip properly, looking uncomfortable in more ways than one.
“I. Um.”
“That’s another no then.”
“But the aliens-”
“They can wait.” Mello aimed for his best ‘cocky mafioso’ look. ‘Aimed’ being, possibly, the operative word there. “No, they will wait. I’ll make them. You need to sleep.” Matt opened his mouth as if to protest. “Sleep.” And here’s hoping I haven’t given you a concussion or anything.
Matt blinked at him for a while, but either the look worked or he was just too exhausted to argue (or both), because he ended up nodding and trying to get up. Except- Mello winced again- there was a bit of blood trickling down between his legs, which, added to the effect of the drugs and possibly the blow to the head, made the whole thing rather tricky. Mello caught him before he could careen into the coffee table again, and decided that the best approach would be to pick him up. Possibly bridal-style.
So he did.
Matt squeaked and clutched at his neck, staring over his shoulder at something Mello couldn’t see (though he was willing to bet it was probably carrying some kind of weaponry). He turned to glare at the corresponding patch of wall accordingly.
“You heard what I said. If you still want us to fuck, it’ll happen in the morning, okay?” He turned back without waiting for Matt to imagine an answer and strides towards the bedroom, muttering under his breath. “Christ. For someone who’s skinny as a rake, you’re really fucking heavy, Matt. No more take-out for you.”
Matt murmured something unintelligible that sounded almost like a protest, and was entirely ignored by Mello in favour of carefully laying him down on the bed. He tugged the duvet over him, watching with some amusement as Matt managed to wrap the entire thing around himself within seconds. It’s a good thing Mello didn’t share a bed with him- he’d get really cold, really quickly.
Except not really. He figured he wouldn’t mind it, if Matt was okay with the idea of sharing the bed at all. But that wasn’t not likely to happen, drugs or no, so Mello put the thought to the back of his mind and went to drag a chair through so he could watch him. There was still the risk of concussion-based things, after all. And vomiting. Were the drugs Matt took likely to cause that? He didn’t know, but if they were, well. He decided to forego getting a book in favour of sprawling across the chair as he used to do in the Mafia, keeping a careful eye on the way Matt was still staring, wide-eyed, at the door.
It was going to be a long night.
“Mel?”
“Yes, Matt?”
A trembling hand was extended from beneath the covers. Mello blinked uncomprehendingly at it for a moment, then sighed. “We discussed this. I’m not fucking you.”
“No,” Matt shook his head. “I don’t want- I just...”
What he wanted finally clicked, and Mello rolled his eyes (though it was kind of adorable really). “Fine. But if this does turn out to be a ploy to get me to fuck you, I will hurt you.” Except not really. Not badly, at any rate. Just enough to knock him out. He got up with a huff, shoving the Matt-bundle towards the wall so he could get some space. “Move over,” was rather redundant after that, but still. He edged onto the bed, trying not to begrudge Matt the duvet since he wasn’t going to sleep anyway. The chill would be good for keeping him awake, he figured.
-
The sun was high in the sky by the time Mello stirred, blinking a little blearily.
Shit. He wasn’t meant to sleep. But Matt was apparently still alive, as evidenced by the slightly sour, snuffling breaths that puffed out across Mello’s chest every so often.
...wait.
What?
Now Mello was properly awake, staring down at the shock of red hair on his chest and the arm slung across his waist. Matt was still hogging the entirety of the duvet, but the areas of skin he was touching were oddly warm. Mello was half-tempted just to stay like this, but he couldn’t allow himself the luxury. It wasn’t like Matt was aware of who he was hugging, after all- and considering the various aches he was going to wake up to, and how he’d got them, he probably wouldn’t have wanted it to be Mello. A wince; he should never have let things go so far last night, however good it felt.
Anyway. Time to extricate himself. Matt was a deep sleeper, so it wasn’t too difficult, and Mello paused for a moment before deciding that if the guy had managed to not die thus far he should be okay for a few more minutes, and dashed off to the toilet.
And Matt was okay when he got back. He’d even woken up. Mello stopped in the doorway, wishing like fuck he’d thought to put his clothes back on.
“Morning.”
Matt stared at him, still curled up beneath the duvet. “’lo.”
Mello swallowed. What the fuck did you say in this sort of situation? “I... um. Are you okay?”
There was a wince from Matt, and he shifted a little. “Sort of. Give it a minute.”
“...okay.”
He wasn’t about to argue with that. Mello beat a retreat to the kitchen, grabbing his trousers on the way. God only knew where his top had ended up. Somewhere under the sofa, probably. But anyway. Chocolate. Chocolate was good. Uncomplicated, too, which helped. Mello settled himself in a chair and set about devouring his first bar of the day.
Matt appeared while he was licking his lips, and it was his turn to stop dead in the doorway. Mello noticed the way he was staring at his mouth, but didn’t dare put it down to anything more than awkwardness.
“Think we’re out of Diet Coke,” he said at last, if only to break the silence.
“Oh,” said Matt. “’kay.” He walked- limped, really- over to the fridge and looked inside very intently, considering what little there was inside (and how not-fun light must have been for his eyes). Though to be fair, Mello was paying a similar amount of attention to the tabletop. And his chocolate.
Christ, were they going to spend the rest of the day like this? Or longer still? He really hoped not.
Thankfully, Matt broke the silence. “Mel, about last night...”
“It’s fine,” Mello hastened to reassure him. “You were off your face. Beyond off your face, in fact.”
Matt grimaced. “Doesn’t really excuse, um. That. I mean, I could’ve-”
“Maybe. But you didn’t, and that’s fine. Honest.” He leaned over to ditch the chocolate wrapper in the bin, intending that to be a signal for the end of this particular conversation. A reversion to how they were before he left the flat last would have been nice, too. But Matt murmured something that made him frown, even though he couldn’t quite hear it. “Sorry?”
“I just, um.” He turned away from the fridge a little, though he still wasn’t looking Mello in the eye. “I mean, I thought it might be. Okay.”
Mello tilted his head. “How so?”
“Well, I dunno.” Matt shrugged. “But you seemed to get it up pretty quickly for someone who didn't think they were about to be killed otherwise.”
Mello raised an eyebrow. “You shoved your hand down my pants.”
“...my point still stands.” His face had gone as red as his hair- it was kind of adorable. Which was possibly a slightly inappropriate way to think of someone who you’d just almost fucked and wouldn’t mind fucking (or getting fucked by) properly, but hey. Mello never did go in for societal norms much.
“So did we- um.” Matt looked down. He was biting his lip again, and he’d turned slightly away. It took Mello a moment to work out what he was asking.
“You don’t remember?” Matt shook his head, and if Mello thought he’d been cute before, the way his fringe flopped into his eyes when he ducked his head made it worse. Or better. He hadn’t decided yet. “No. You tried, but it... didn’t happen.” He paused, then, in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, continued. “Then you fell asleep and drooled all over my chest for the rest of the night.”
Matt was quiet for a moment. Then- “And you let me?”
“Pardon?”
His head came up, and their eyes met, though Matt still looked a bit like a cornered animal. “If I fell asleep on you drooled all over your chest, that means you let me. And I know you.”
Mello wasn’t sure how he felt about where this was going. “Your point?”
“Under normal circumstances you’d have buggered off and done your own thing. Pushed me off and gone to sleep on the couch or something.”
“...again, your point?”
Matt took a step forward. Then another. Then apparently thought ‘what the fuck’ and clambered carefully into Mello’s lap. “You’re a genius. Work it out.”
His voice was a tiny bit hesitant- it sounded like he’d gone for cockiness and hadn’t quite managed it. Which made two of them. And was kind of adorable, to say the least, as was the way he moved his head forward as if to kiss Mello but stopped.
Which was fine. Mello could take it from there.