FicWad

You and I

Months later, I was watching some of the members of ‘your’ mafia (you fairly owned them), making sure they didn’t do anything rash or out of line. You couldn’t risk them getting killed by Kira. I took a drag on my cigarette. I was cutting down. It was driving me insane. But I was doing better. I rapidly pressed the A and B buttons, guiding my character, battling. Pause. Bite of Hot Pocket. Glance over the five screens. Play. Repeat.

Four hours.

My eyes were drooping, the DS was off, and my cigarette was gone. I was tired. My hands were shaking slightly. I’d been up for five days in a row. Just as I laid my head down to give in to sleep-

Bang.

Some few streets away you had finished your job. Had someone finished you?

I got up and darted to the window, my breath fogging it up. It was December. I wiped it away and- there. I spotted your golden hair. I sat back down, reassured. Did you know how nervous I had been? I heard the door unlock and open, your tired footsteps ascending the stairs, and finally, you opened the door to the room. You strode across the room and flopped unceremoniously onto the rarely used couch I was leaning my back against.

“So… how’d it go?” I asked, taking a swig of my third pink lemonade that day.

“Mmm’s okay,” you groaned, running a hand through your hair, the scar across your face painfully visible in the glow of the computer. It spread down to your pale, slim shoulders, your thin exhausted frame spattered with blood. It wasn’t yours, I hoped.

“What took you so damned long?” I asked.

“I dunno.”

“Great excuse Mello. I’ve been sitting in the same godforsaken spot for the past four hours for you! Every day for a week! While you were gallivanting about shooting people!” I said, my voice rising slightly. I thought you would have learned when your pretty face got burned.

Suddenly, you smirked.

“Worried? You were worried about me?” you said, almost scoffing.

“Gunshots, Mel! I heard gunshots! Of course I was!” I shouted, standing up again. You stood up, but slower, after I did.

“Yeah, ‘cause I was doing what I needed to,” you said, eyes narrowed.

“For God’s sake, Mello, can’t I care about you? I thought it was just that you couldn’t care about me-“

“No, I’ve already told you be-“

Before you could finish my fist hit your pretty, scarred face, forcing you to take a step back.

“You think I’m actually going to listen to your bullshit again?” I shouted, “I don’t want to hear it!” You looked stunned. I had thrown the first punch. I stepped forward and punched you again, my fist connecting with your jaw. You recovered quickly, grabbing my arm and twisting. I hissed and hooked my foot behind your knee, bringing both of us crashing to the dirty carpet that already had bloodstains on it.

We lay there for a moment, panting.

“Mello, you know I love you. You’re not gonna be able to change that,” I muttered, looking away.

“I know. I hate you for it sometimes, but I love you all the same,” you said, almost calmly.

“You’re going to get yourself killed sometime.”

“We live in a city of devils, don’t we?”

“Yeah, I said, smirking slightly, “Mello, I-“

You cut me off, kissing me with the mouth I’d bloodied, your sweet lips against mine.

“It’s pretty hard to find angels in Hell.”

“If this is your definition of Hell, you’re a mile off.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Hell is when you dive half way across a continent with no cigarettes, your batteries dead in your DS and PSP, while you’re forty-five minutes late with a dead cell phone.”

“Sorry about that, Matty…”

“Don’t call me Matty.”

“Why not?”

“It sounds… fluffy.”

“You call me pretty.”

“That’s different, you are…”

“Well what if you’re like my puppy?”

Honestly. I wasn’t that cute.

“No,” I growled, rolling my eyes and you smirked. I traced the edge of your scar and you flinched. “Why won’t you tell me what happened- exactly? I took care of you that whole time…”

“I made a mistake,” you said, averting your eyes. I tugged my goggles off, sighing. There were a few pale scars there too from getting them punched off, but they were fading. You hate making mistakes. You’re too proud.

“You’re human, Mello, just like the rest of us…” I said quietly.

“That was one mistake that shouldn’t have ever been made,” you said, your voice distant and cold. I knew you could see the flames as they ravaged the church around you.

Maybe it was me that didn’t belong. I only just understand you- but perhaps I’m the only one who understands that bit of you at all.

So here we are again, ‘You and I’. Two souls desperate to be cared for, ‘you’, like a cautious wild animal, and ‘I’, the one who cared for it hoping for something in return. Recognition? I didn’t know.

“I-“

“No, don’t be sorry- my mistakes aren’t your fault,” you said and kissed me roughly again, pulling yourself on top of me. You watched my hazel eyes for a brief moment before leaning down to kiss my neck. You bit down hard, making my breath catch in my chest.

“Mm, you like that Matty?”

“M’not Matty,” I said, leaning my head back more.

“What was that?” you smirked, your voice smooth. You reached into my hair, pulling it hard. I held still as you bet me again, gently sucking until you had made a mark. I knew you liked to do that, mark me as yours. You had tattooed a small M on the back of my shoulder blade yourself as a testament to that. Being the masochist I am, I didn’t care.

“M’not Matty- ah!” I gasped as you tore the skin you had been sucking on with your canine tooth. You liked the thin line of blood, and then leaned up to kiss me again. Blood and chocolate- that really is all ‘you’ are. “M’not…”

“Just like I’m not pretty,” you smirked, leaning back a little.

“You are- your hair is soft, you’re strong, and your eyes-“

“That’s what you think.”

“I… get your point. You’re still pretty.”

“And you’re still cute. You better get my point, otherwise you might… get punished.” I rolled my eyes- and got my hair yanked again for it.

As you leaned down to lick the thin trail of blood from my neck you slowly, agonizingly, pulled down the zipper of the vest I wore. I leaned up a little so you could pull it off. I squirmed, trying to get it off faster, but I found a knife at my throat.

“Oh, no, you’ve gotta be patient,” you smirked, whispering in my ear before nibbling the lobe.

Damn. You were such a tease.

And you had such fun being one.

The cold steel never left my throat as you slid your other hand up my black and white striped shirt, dragging your nails up my skin. I shivered- I knew a thin line of blood had appeared at my neck, like a painter had taken a brush and streaked my portrait with a detail brush of crimson. The knife left my neck and you swiftly pulled my shirt off to lick my collarbone.

I tugged down the zipper of your leather shirt and it was smoothly shrugged to the ground, leaning back down for a heated, hungry kiss. I parted my lips and your tongue slowly rubbed against mine, the very tip of your knife tracing abstract designs on my chest, not quite drawing blood. I hissed when it did, leaving tiny thin lines.

You threw the knife off to the side and I took the opportunity to side my arms around you, pulling you down onto me. You shuddered as I ran my hands through your hair and down your back with feather light touches.

You still tasted of blood and chocolate.

Once again you slid down a little to lick my collarbone, dragging your teeth along it.

It’s so strange. ‘You’ and ‘I’ don’t quite belong anywhere. Just like the others like us, but we can always find solace in one another.

Your fingers drifted down to tug impatiently at my pants and I chuckled.

“No, you’ve gotta be patient,” I said, mockingly. You growled and bit my shoulder, pulling them down anyway. I kicked them over somewhere else on the floor by wherever the rest of the clothes had ended up. I smirked, waiting as you pulled yours off, leaving the leather off to the side to not worry about them anymore. A cross hung on a chain on your neck, a few images cast into the stainless steel. My smirk softened into a smile. Of all the people in the world to be a ‘believer’ I never would have expected you.

“So, is this why you’re so keen on killing Kira?” I asked, reaching up to hold the cross, curiously. Kira wasn’t supposed to be God, right?

“Mhmm,” you said and kissed me again, this time with a sweeter undertone.

You were my angel in Hell.

I smiled and reached around you, pulling you down onto me. You shuddered, moaning lightly as I did at the feeling of so much contact, so much skin pressing against skin. Our hearts pounded.

Suddenly you reached around, between us and I gasped loudly as you teased my ass, and pressed the tip of your finger in. I hissed, my hips jerking as you slid the rest in. You paused a moment, waiting for me to adjust before sliding a second finger in. I thought you had forgotten lube- you had- and were using your own spit. Well… it worked. You scissored your fingers a few times before pressing deeper.

A low, throaty moan rose from my lips. We adjusted slightly, you pulling your fingers from me, and I leaned down to lick the pre-come from the tip of your cock. You gasped as I took your whole length into my mouth, coating it well with my own saliva. You yanked me back by my hair.

All in the blue-white glow of the computer screens.

You shoved me back down to the ground, pressing in, both of us clinging to one another, letting our breathing escalate.

You started moving your hips, digging your nails into my shoulders. You moved faster, going deeper inside of me, tearing moans from both us- blood still streaked my neck.

Faster, deeper, harder, more.

You stroked me in time to your thrusts as I held your shoulders tightly.

Finally, I let release wash over me, sparks flitting before my eyes, crying out as I came between our stomachs. You did shortly after, biting my shoulder to muffle your own cry. We rode it out until we simply laid there, satisfied, exhausting, panting. You pulled out and rolled off of me. I pulled myself against you, sighing well- contented.

Perhaps you didn’t stay here just because we were friends at Whammy’s House, because I knew computers better than anyone else. If you wanted to, you could have a whole team to boss around and do my job for you, but you always came back.

“Matt?” you said, sounding so much more relaxed than you had in a long time.

“Hm?” I looked over into your eyes and you smiled.

“I love you,” you said simply, leaning your forehead against mine.

“I love you too, Mello,” I said.

“We should probably clean up.”

“Yeah.”

We reluctantly stood, and you slapped my ass.

“What the hell was that?” I snapped.

“You’re my bitch Matty.”

Maybe it was just for the awesome sex.

No, now there wasn’t exactly a ‘You and ‘I’. It was ‘us’ and ‘we’. Perhaps ‘we’ had been ‘us’ for longer than ‘we’ thought.

But… I never really worried too much about pronouns.