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Mello and Matt stood around a small fire, enjoying the cool December night. They had a long day, dealing with bureaucratic bullshit and mafia nonsense. Matt had been pissing the blond off all damn day. It was a miracle Mello made it through the past 12 hours without giving the redhead a good pop to the mouth. Unbeknownst to Mello, Matt was doing it on purpose. He wanted to get hit. Matt thought just a bit more of a push would get him what he wanted. He deserved it, actually. After having to follow Mello around all day, he deserved to relax and shut his brain off. And so, he crinkled up his beer can and tossed in the fire.
“Go get me another beer, Mells.” The blond blinked once, twice, perplexed at the absurdity of the ‘request’.
“Fuck you just say to me?” Matt bit his lip, suppressing a laugh. God, it’s so easy to piss him off.
“A beer. I need another.” Mello’s eye twitched. He spun around on his heel and headed off to the garage. Matt stared into the fire, wondering what the blond was doing. He honestly expected a bat to the shins, but what came next was intimate, not cruel. Mello took out his pocket knife and stabbed a hole in a can of beer. He grabbed a fistful of red hair and yanked his head back.
“You want another fuckin’ beer? Drink up bitch,” Mello commanded as he positioned the hole in the can to Matt’s mouth, cracking open the tab with his finger. “Fuckin’ order me around? You fuckin’ stupid?”
Like the good boy he is, Matt chugged the beer in one go. He tried not to choke on it, as the awkward angle didn’t allow for much room to swallow. Mello crushed the can and tossed it in the fire. Matt groaned as the cold liquid trickled down his throat, feeling the sweet fizz bubble against his skin. The blond pulled Matt down by the hair, his body landing with a soft thud as he hit the grass. Matt gave a playful kick to Mello’s leg, earning him a swift kick to the ass. He laughed, which brought a concerned look across Mello’s face.
“You- you little shit. You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Mello rolled his eyes, realizing what Matt was doing. “Fuckin’ perv.” He kicked him in the ribs, this time earning a rough groan as Matt held onto his sides. He sunk his top row of teeth hard into his bottom lip, relishing in the pain. He rolled onto his side, letting Mello kick his stomach. Even through his shirt, Mello’s boots burned against belly as he twisted the rubber soles into his soft skin.
Mello rolled him onto his stomach with his foot, pressing his boot into Matt’s cheek, pinning his face into the dirt. Matt tried looking up at the blond, but couldn’t move his head. So, he closed his eyes and let Mello have at it. Still pressing down into his jaw, he leveraged himself stable and used his other foot to kick Matt’s waist. His boot ground against his face, as if putting out a cigarette on the sidewalk.
“You like this?” Matt gave a grunt of confirmation, hoping Mello would be rougher. The blond shifted a bit more of his weight into Matt’s jaw, kicking him again in the ribs- crunch. A breathless scream escaped from Matt’s lips. He put out his hand, signaling for Mello to stop. He hopped off him and watched as the redhead dug his fingers into the dirt, curling into himself and trying to ground himself through the pain. “Shit Matty, are you okay?” Matt tried desperately to catch his breath without feeling that sharp, insufferable pain in his chest.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I’m great. I just uh- I think you broke a couple ribs.” Matt said through breathless gasps. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” Matt’s eyes watered, creating a small pool of mud under his face. He worked himself through the pain, desperate not to let it end so soon.
“You sure? Maybe we should take a break.” Mello crouched down, running his fingers through red locs. He massaged his scalp, hoping to create a distraction from the pain.
“No, fuck that. I need this. I need you to beat the fuck out of me. I’ll tell you if you’re going too far. Just fuck me up.” Matt sounded like he was on the verge of tears with how he begged, and Mello didn’t dare pass up on this opportunity. He pulled Matt up by his hair, forcing him into a kneeling position. Matt licked his lips as Mello’s fist connected with his jaw. Surprised, he bit down on his tongue. He savored the taste of blood, wishing the punch was harder. Mello saw the desperation in his eyes, and gave him a hard blow to the cheek. His knuckles were sharp, and they broke skin.
Just as Matt was starting to relax with the pain, Mello hauled him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt. He reeled his leg back and shoved his knee into his gut. Before the redhead could catch his breath, the blond threw a left-hook at his nose. Another crunch. Mello cringed at the sound, but Matt remained unphased even as blood dripped from his nose. Mello gritted his teeth and shook his head. This dude’s fucked in the head, Mello thought as he took out the brass knuckles from his jacket pocket. He made sure Matt got a chance to focus on them, to say no, but he only smirked and licked the blood dripping down to his lips. Psycho.
Mello spun the brass knuckles around his finger once and slipped them on. Matt waited, looking at the hesitation in those blue eyes. For a sadist like Mello, Matt must be truly worrying him. But, alas, Matt got that sweet, blooming pain in his cheek. It hurt something awful, but he relished it anyways. He bit down softly on his lip, anticipating the next blow. Mello struck the same spot again, ripping open his soft cheek. Matt winced, his eyes shut tight.
“You take it like a good bitch, don’t you Matty?” Matty. That nickname always made him weak in the knees. The simple softness of it drove him mad. Like he was something precious. He never thought he was anything special, but apparently he was to Mello. The thought of him actually being worth something more - especially to someone so callous as the blond - had him dropping to his knees for Mello.
“More. Like you’re trying to kill me. God, please Mells.” The redhead pawed at cold, leather pants. “I love you so much. I love it when you do this to me.” Matt looked up, adoring the blue eyes staring down at him. He traced the pinkish scar with his eyes. He noticed a change in expression on Mello’s face; a slight smirk and a shine over his eyes. Yes, this is just what he wanted. That killing intent Mello had always possessed. He knew he was safe with him, but it struck a sweet amount of fear into him nonetheless.
“You asked for it.” Mello took out his knife, letting gravity pull it down through Matt’s shirt. Black and white stripes disconnecting, frayed pieces of thread shedding to the ground. The knife was so sharp it left a light red mark down his abdomen, from where his collarbones connected to his sternum, all the way down to where his pants met his hips. It stung like a papercut, but Matt pressed lightly against it, loving the burn. He was glad Mello always kept his knife sharp. He’d even catch him in the middle of the night sharpening it, awakening to the soft grating sound of steel against diamond. He thought it to be something psychotic or compulsive at first, but he didn’t worry about it much now, with how much danger they’re faced with these days. He was glad to be able to sleep soundly.
Mello purred, admiring the panting man before him. He knew Matt was completely at his mercy and it made him hard. The blond dragged the blade across the pale chest, letting it push the shirt aside. He gently pressed the tip against a salmon-colored nipple, drawing a prick of blood, watching Matt bite his lip. Mello dragged the knife up his body, stopping at the neck for a moment, careful not to press in, before continuing up to the redhead’s lips. The knife sliced into Matt’s lips. Mello’s cock strained against his pants over the sight of the blood seeping from his mouth. More. The thought possessed him. He moved the knife away from him entirely, and punched Matt in the mouth with the brass knuckles.
Matt’s soft lips bled furiously. He sucked on the cuts, making an evil sort of eye-contact with Mello. And it drove him insane. He shut his eyes tight, trying to ground himself. He wants this. He’ll tell you if you’re too rough. Mello re-assured himself. You won’t lose control. It’s happened before, but for some reason Matt just laughed it off afterwards. He comforted him even though he was the one bleeding. Mello couldn’t so much as look him in the eye for weeks; he’d felt so bad. But no, this was different. He was in control. Completely in control.
Mello pressed his boot against Matt’s navel, wanting to kick him over onto his back, but as the heel of his foot pressed down, he noticed the bulge against his jeans.
“Fuck, dude. How long have you been hard?” Questioned the blond, pressing harder against Matt’s erection.
“Eh. ‘Bout since you made me shotgun that beer.” Mello snorted, breathing against the scent of reality. He could’ve calmed down and brought himself away from the scene, but that wasn’t what Matt wanted. Not even close. And he was desperate to let loose on someone after having to hold back all day. Before either of them could think about anything, Mello had shoved Matt to the ground, boot pressing hard against his jeans. The blond rolled him over onto his belly with a hard kick to the thigh. Matt heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling and being pulled fast out of the loops of Mello’s pants. And then that sweet snap of leather-on-leather. Once, twice. Just for extra measure.
Then it connected with his back. Thwack. Again. Thwack. Again. Thwack. It annoyed Matt, having to feel it through his shirt. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything. His shirt was ripped off him just as quickly as his displeasure came. He was half-bare before the blond, tasting the mud he lay on. He’d hoped that killing intent was still there. He needed it. God did he need it.
Thwack. It stung like a fading burn. Matt felt the blooming red on his back. Thwack. He felt the heat; truly hot against the cold of the night. Thwack. He felt a warm liquid shy up his back. Blood. Just a little bit. Thwack. His pants were truly becoming uncomfortable now. Thwack. He needed more pain. So much more. He felt the heat of Mello’s body closing in on him, then cold, trembling fingers against his abdomen, attempting to find their way to the button on his jeans. Trembling? Mello never trembled. Quickly bringing himself out-of-scene, Matt slowly turned around, careful not to irritate his ribs more.
“Mells? You good?” Matt’s voice was soft. So soft. He searched his face for any hint of emotion - discomfort or pleasure, it didn’t matter - any at all. He found none besides red eyes. Matt knew that look. Numb. Unregistering. Holding back every possible emotion. He might not be okay with this. Shit. I pushed him too far. Matt reached out a hand, grasping a leather-clad shoulder “Hey, Mells. It’s okay. C’mon. Say something.” He saw Mello’s pupils widen. Another switch, but this one was foreign to Matt. He had yet to see anything like that come across his face. He didn’t even have time to process it before he was forced to eat mud again. He felt the cold air against his ass as his pants were unbuckled and pulled to his knees. “Shit. Mells, at least tell me you’re alright.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Thwack. Clink. He was hit hard, this time with the belt buckle. It was sharp; he felt himself bleed. Thwack. Clink. His ass stung hard. His mind slowed, torn between the sweet, sweet pain and the worry for the blond. Thwack. Clink. His thoughts disappeared all at once, unable to think. He couldn’t do anything now. He was paralyzed. Matt didn’t mind; he just prayed to god Mello was okay, but he didn’t care what happened to himself. Dangerously selfless. Thwack. Clink.
Mello, unsure of what he was even doing, unlaced his pants. I’m completely in control, he tried convincing himself, somewhere in the back of his mind. He wrapped the belt around Matt’s throat, holding the ends behind his head. He spit into his cold hand, then worked it up and down the length of his cock. He rubbed it between Matt’s cheeks. He was so, so, warm. Warm. He snapped back to reality.
“Shit.” Mello dropped the belt, letting it clatter below Matt’s neck. “Fuck.” He pulled away. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Matty. Are you okay?” He tucked himself back into his pants. Mmh he heard from beneath him. He grabbed Matt by the waist and pulled him up to a kneeling position, his back leaning into the blond’s chest. “God, I’m so sorry.” He sobbed.
“Back to earth, huh? I’m okay.” Matt reached around and ran his fingers through blond locs, scratching at the scalp.
“No, I could’ve hurt you real bad. I’m so sorry, Matty. I wasn’t in control that time. I’m so fucking sorry.” He pulled Matt closer, holding him tight against his chest.
“No, no. Hey, Mells. Hey, look at me.” Matt craned his neck back, red hair pressing into the zipper on Mello’s chest. “I’m okay. I promise. Swear to god.” Matt took his free hand and grasped the rosary around Mello’s neck. Tears fell down on red bangs. “It’s okay.” Matt let go of the blond locs and rosary, opting instead to cup Mello’s face. “It’s okay…” Matt’s soft voice fell against deaf ears.
He’s doing it again. I hurt him and he’s still comforting me. Mello’s hand slid up to hold Matt’s face, feeling the fresh blood on the tips of his fingers. He wiped it away. “Shit. You’re bleeding.”
“That’s fine. It tastes good.” Matt licked the blood on his lips, catching a slender finger on his tongue. “I like it, Mells. I love it. You didn’t hurt me. Hey, look at me. Please.” Mello, somehow, found the courage to do so. Green eyes staring - not at his soul - but at his heart. Right where they belonged. For some reason, he forgave himself. He believed the redhead, that he was truly okay. “You good, Mells?”
“Yeah. I think so. Fuck.” Mello wiped his tears away. “I’m sorry.” Matt held his face tighter.
“No, don’t be. I’m okay. I don’t mind if you lose yourself like that. I like it; I just want you to be okay.”
“I made you bleed and yet you still comfort me. Why?”
“Because I like it. Don’t you get it, Mells? I like the pain. I like the hurt.” Matt took the hand away from his face and let Mello’s fingertips drag across his chest and stomach, right down to his crotch. He waited for the blond to touch him, patiently. He did, forgetting about the brass between his fingers. The redhead didn’t mind. “See how hard this makes me? Even in the dead of the night, in the cold, with mud in my mouth, with blood and bruises all over me, with a broken nose and ribs, I’m hard as a rock.”
Mello released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His cool fingertips felt good against the warm contrast of the redhead’s cock. He brushed against it lightly, feeling every twitch of his length. He himself was still hard, but he didn’t care about that. He just wanted Matt to feel good. He owed him that much, after scaring him like that.
Matt noticed how his free hand still held the knife. He thought about it for a minute, trying not to get distracted by the delicate fingers rubbing against him. Slowly, cautiously, he held onto Mello’s hand, steadying the knife. He brought the flat of the blade to his neck, surrendering his life to the blond. His cock twitched wildly against Mello’s fingers. “Feel that?” He did. He felt the ever-hardening cock in his hand. He felt the comfort of his own knife in his hand. Safe. Secure. “I need you, Mello.” Matt gauged his reaction, wondering if he was okay to continue. Blue eyes disappeared under long lashes, a faint smile crept across his face. Genuine. Something no one else but Matt could notice.
Matt moaned, feeling the hot breath against his neck. It warmed him right down to his soul. The temperature could keep dropping, below zero, and nothing would chill him. Without thinking, he rutted against Mello’s hand, pushing his knees into the mud for leverage. Mud is still mud, though - so he slipped a bit. The blond responded, steadying him and grabbing him with the whole of his hand. He noticed the brass between his fingers. He released Matt, slipping the brass knuckles off and back into his pocket where they belonged. Mello spat in his hand and held Matt’s cock again. Slowly, firmly, working up and down. Just the way he liked it. Matt breathed against the cool air, letting a soft moan escape into the night.
Testing the waters, Matt flipped the knife - from flat to edge against his neck. Raw, unconforming steel pressed into the ridges of his throat. He felt Mello’s grip tighten around his own blade, and felt comfortable enough to let go of his hand, trusting Mello was okay with himself now. He knew Mello felt safe with his knife solid in his hands. Matt still wanted it rough, but for once, he decided to savor the gentleness of Mello’s touch. It was a rare sight. His usual cold-heartedness in contrast to this was rare indeed.
“I love you,” Mello breathed into the crook of Matt’s neck. He bit into his earlobe, pulling on it lightly. He sped up a bit on his cock.
“Fuck, Mells. I love you so much.” Matt pushed back against him, careful of the knife, moaning into his touch. He savored the hot breath on his neck. “More,” the redhead whispered, thinking his thoughts were still inside his head. Before he had time to realize what he said, he was already being - gently - pushed back into the dirt. He sucked on his bleeding lip as the knife clattered to the ground. Mello’s hands found their place on Matt’s hips, twitching cock slowly thrusting between his thighs. Matt teased, rubbing his ass against Mello’s hips.
“Fuck,” breathed the blond, reaching down to Matt’s front pocket. He pulled out a small bottle of oil and flicked off the cap. He coated himself in it and then poured some onto Matt’s hole. Mello was glad the redhead had gotten in the habit of keeping lube on his person, as they were often too impatient to get to somewhere with a bed.
“Please,” said a small voice from underneath him, desperate for Mello to fill him. The blond inserted two long fingers into Matt, not stopping until he reached the knuckle. His fingers curled and stretched him open until Matt began to squirm. “Goddamnit, Mells. Just fuck me already.” Mello let out a sharp breath of a laugh and pulled out his fingers. Carefully, he aligned his cock with Matt’s hole, slowly pushing in. The redhead, ever impatient, pushed back against Mello until he was all the way in.
Matt groaned and writhed beneath him as the blond started to move, dull nails digging into the dirt. “Harder. God, fuck. Please,” he begged, head drooping down to the ground. Mello’s breath caught in the cold air as he thrusted hard into Matt. The redhead muffled his moans, pressing his face into the dirt. Blood ran down his face to the ground beneath him. Mello’s nose twitched like a bloodhound, watching his pink cheeks get redder as he spanked them. Mello smacked him especially hard, and Matt let out a choked scream of a sob.
“Shut the fuck up before the neighbors hear you.” The blond leaned forward, picking up the belt and shoving the leather between his teeth, muffling his cries as he hit him again. Matt tried throwing his head back, but was stopped by a firm hand squeezing his hair and putting him back down like a dog that pissed on the floor. He used the rest of his strength to turn his head sideways to avoid breaking his nose any further, letting the dirt rub into his wounds. Mello pounded into him hard and fast, leaving no room for mercy.
Matt was in heaven, being used and abused like a ragdoll fucktoy. He no longer had control over his own body, letting Mello take him - control him. He wrestled an arm out from under him and took himself in-hand, stroking furiously like he might die if he didn’t. Mello caught this, and tore Matt’s arm out from under him, pinning it against his back in a wrist lock. It felt like it could snap any moment, but never did. The tip of Matt’s cock - red and throbbing - dripped onto the ground, leaking like a faucet in the winter. His support arm gave up, forcing him harder into the ground. The blond fucked him into the dirt. His eyes watered from pleasure and pain, but mostly involuntarily from his broken nose. He couldn’t wait to come up with a story to explain all of this.
Without warning, Mello flipped him over onto his back, knocking the wind out of him. His ribs screamed around him. Dirt dug its way into the cuts on his back. The new angle allowed Mello to hit that spot deep inside him. As the blond wrapped a hand around his throat, Matt came without warning, sinking his teeth into the leather with a loud groan. His cock twitched violently, begging to be touched, to be properly worked through his orgasm. Mello didn’t care. He didn’t stop. He choked him harder, watching his face turn red. Matt felt suffocated and sweaty. He relished in it, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw slack. His hair caked itself in mud, broken sticks and rocks embedding themselves in his red locs. That would be a bitch and a half to brush out.
Mello let go of the small throat in his grasp and reeled his hand back, slapping Matt hard in the face. Blond hair stuck to his face, forehead dripping with sweat. There was enough heat and friction between them to start a fire. Matt blindly patted the dirt around him, searching for something. When he didn’t find it, he clawed at Mello’s knuckles, begging for a punch. Mello obliged, knuckles splitting open when they hit his sharp cheekbones. Matt’s head snapped to the side, biting down on his lip. He lazily rolled his head back into position, ready for another hit. Calloused knuckles collided with his jaw, causing Matt to spit out the belt.
“Harder,” he choked. Matt clawed at the leather jacket, trying to dig out the brass knuckles. “Punch me, hold me down,” he begged, back arching as Mello thrusted harder into that sweet spot, drawing out screams and cries from the redhead, who was oh-so overstimulated. The blond slipped the brass over his left hand, and with the right, he wrapped his fingers around a pale, bruised throat.
“Be quiet, bitch.” Sharp brass dug into his cheek, splitting it open more. The gash was so deep Mello thought it might need stitches. He struck again at his jaw, timing it with a brutal thrust against his prostate. Matt came again, untouched and still soft. He shuddered, trying to look down at his stomach to see the mess. He saw his limp cock - angry and red - and a mess of hot white burning into his stomach in contrast to the cool winter night.
“Fuck,” he sobbed. “How did I do that?” His head dropped back down to the dirt with a soft thud. “Jesus fuck, Mells. Please cum inside me.” His back arched, head anchoring itself into the dirt. “Fuck! Oh my God. Oh, Fuck!” Matt screamed into the night. Mello punched him again in the cheek, choking him harder. Tears ran down a freckled face, mixing with blood and sweat. He grew hard again, cock a violent red. Mello straightened Matt’s thin legs out and tore off his jeans and shoes in one motion. He pushed his legs down, knobby knees pressing down into his shoulders as the blond wore his ankles like earrings. He was deeper inside than ever before, heat enveloping his cock.
Mello socked him in the face once more before shaking the brass knuckles off, letting them hit the ground, clattering against his discarded knife and belt. He switched his grip on Matt’s throat to his left hand, and took his aching cock in the right, using his cum as lube. The overstimulation burned, even though he had yet to truly be touched. The blond leaned in to nip at Matt’s bruised lips, tasting the sweet blood mixed with dull dirt. Matt snaked his hands up Mello’s shirt, clawing raw at his back. His ass slipped against the mud as Mello drove him into the ground. They came with a violent, primal howl. Matt sobbed as the blond thrust into him, working through his orgasm. Mello’s hand had stopped moving, clenching limply around his cock - all of his orgasms dry or ruined. Matt didn’t care; he felt empty and broken as the blond pulled out.
Mello released his throat and untangled himself from the redhead, who lay there limp, focusing on the cum dripping from his gaping hole. The blond considered collapsing beside him, but instead he pulled him up into his lap, running his fingers through a wet mop of sweaty, red hair. Matt sunk into him, breathing hard - licking the blood from his lips. Mello ran his thumb across the gash in his cheek. It would need stitches. The lip might, too, if Matt kept chewing on it.
“You did so good, Matty. So good.” Mello held his face with one hand, and scratched lightly at his scalp with the other, brittle red hair discarding itself on his pale fingers.
“Thank you, Mello.” Matt’s voice was almost inaudible, but the blond caught it nonetheless. He’s okay, Mello thought, glad he didn’t go too far. With one swift motion, he stood and picked Matt’s limp body up, carrying him inside, not bothering to pick up their discarded belongings or put out the smoldering fire - that could wait. Matt needed a bit of TLC. He sat him down on the toilet seat in the bathroom and started the bath.
Mello pulled a bottle of vodka from underneath the sink, insisting it was better than rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, or - god forbid - soap and water. He’d gotten the first aid kit from behind the mirror.
“Drink some of that. This is gonna hurt, Matty. I’m sorry.” Mello frowned, upset by how he had to sew his friend back up.
“Can’t hurt much worse than what you’ve already done to my pretty face.” Matt said with a smile, taking a swig of the vodka. He chased it with the blood running from his face, earning an eye-roll from the blond.
“You’re incorrigible.” Mello shook his head, heating up a sewing needle to kill off any bacteria.
“I get it from you, y’know.” Matt bit into his lip again, making eye-contact with Mello like a self-loving vampire.
“Knock it off. I don’t wanna have to sew up your pretty lips, too.” Mello threaded black string through the needle. “Put your head on the counter.” The blond dropped to his knees and flipped the hair from his face. He poured vodka on Matt’s freckled and bloody cheek, dabbing it away with toilet paper, repeating the process until his wound was clean. Matt took the bottle from him and drank until he couldn’t feel himself biting at his own lip. Confident he was numb enough, Mello began sewing his cheek, letting Matt dig his dirty claws into the blond’s scarred shoulder.
By the time he was done, the bath was filled. Mello helped Matt in, steadying him through the nauseating pain of his broken ribs. The bath quickly turned red and brown, blood and dirt seeping out from his skin.
“Goddamn, what happened to your hair?” Mello got a brush from a drawer, carefully combing through his matted hair, picking out sticks, pebbles, and clumps of mud. Matt didn’t say anything, knowing Mello already knew the answer. He planted his eyes on the blond’s scars as he gently brushed his hair. The hot water stung something awful into his cut skin, but it loosened the pain on his ribs. Once his hair was detangled, he pointed to the vodka on the counter. Mello took a swig and handed it over. Matt guzzled down two shots in one go, then placed the bottle on the floor in front of the tub.
“You’re too good to me,” Matt said, taking his finger and lightly tracing Mello’s scarred chest and stomach.
“I beat you half to death.” Mello got up and dug through the disorganized towel rack, looking for a washcloth.
“And I loved every second of it.” Matt smirked, grabbing at his scarred waist as he knelt back down beside the tub. “Y’know, it wasn’t so long ago that I was fixing and cleaning you up like this.” Matt ran his fingers across Mello’s cheek.
“I don’t wanna talk about that.” Mello tried not to think about his grisly scars or the insufferable self-loathing after the explosion. He wet the washcloth with clean water from the tap and lathered it with soap.
“Roger that.” Matt gave a half-hearted salute, closing his eyes and relaxing into Mello’s touch, even if it stung a bit.
“And I definitely don’t wanna think about Roger.” Matt laughed, thinking of the handsy bastard from Wammy’s. “God, he was such a creep.” Mello shuddered, half-joking, half-serious.
“No wonder Beyond and A went nuts.” Matt took another sip of the vodka before letting Mello dunk his head underwater, scrubbing the grime from his hair. Mello couldn’t decide if the water was more red or brown at that point - probably brown. Mud stuck to the red hair like glue, but he managed to get it all out. Matt sat up and took the dirty washcloth, gently dabbing it against the drying blood on his upper lip. “Yeah, that’s definitely broken.” Matt winced, trying not to irritate his nose more.
“Do you know how many noses I’ve broken, Matt? That’s not broken. That’s fucked. Your eyes are blacker than coal. I’m surprised the skin is still in-tact.”
“I can’t smell anything.”
“You wouldn’t want to. We fucking reek.” Matt dropped the washcloth on the side of the tub and dug his nose into Mello’s armpit, trying to get a whiff of his stink.
“What the fuck man?” Mello almost pulled away, from mild shock and the tickling.
“Damn. I won’t be able to snort nothin’ for weeks.” Matt pulled away from the blond pit hair.
“A solid month at the very least. Weirdo.” Mello rinsed the washcloth off under the tub’s tap and soaped it up again. He ran it down Matt’s chest half-blind as he took a swig of vodka. “Better get used to gumming it.”
“Or boofing it. I’ll need your help with that.”
“I am not putting cocaine up your ass.” Matt shot him a fake look of shock, turning his body so Mello could clean him better.
“How rude. Y’know, I’m the one that supports your vyvanse addiction. I think I deserve some help over here.” Mello rolled his eyes and worked on scrubbing the mud off.
“Lick rocks, ginger.”
“I think I’ve already consumed more dirt and pebbles today than most five year-olds do in a year.” Matt turned the tap on and rinsed his mouth out, gargling and swishing around muddy water. He spat it out and took an actual drink of water. While he was bent over, Mello took the opportunity to wash the dirt off his ass, giving it a light smack with the washcloth when he was done.
Matt decided he was clean enough, and attempted to stand. He slipped and would’ve fallen right back in if Mello hadn’t caught him. He knelt back down in the tub, laughing with a red face.
“Okay, drunkard. Hold on.” Mello grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around Matt’s shoulders, hoisting him up over the edge. He scrubbed him dry and tossed the not-very-white towel in the laundry basket. They’d clean up better in the morning. Which, proven by the faint sound of quails chirping, was already here. Matt took the vodka with him to the kitchen, letting Mello handle the laundry and the fire.
Matt dug around in the fridge, looking for last night’s pizza. He found it buried under an empty carton of eggs and half of a poorly re-wrapped Subway sandwich - both of which was his doing. He took the last slice and left the empty box. Mello would bitch about that later. Matt hopped up on the counter, taking a large bite out of the cold pizza.
Mello came back inside, holding his stuff in one hand, and Matt’s clothes and a couple beers in the other. He set everything down on the counter and tore off his boots. He began to strip his clothes off, the thick leather sticking to his sweaty skin. Matt stared at the blond’s ass as he went into the bathroom to put Matt’s jeans in the laundry basket, and his own clothes over the shower rod - those would need to be dry cleaned, lest he wanted them ruined. Matt held the pizza in his mouth and held up his muddy, torn shirt.
“Throw that thing away. It’s completely ruined.” Mello came back into the kitchen and opened one of the beers.
“Nah. This is my new spaghetti shirt.” Matt put the shirt down and finished biting into the pizza.
“You wouldn’t need a spaghetti shirt if you didn’t eat it with your hands.” Mello smacked him upside the head, taking a sip of the beer.
“Forks hurt my hands. See these fingers?” Matt put the pizza down and held up his hand. “If the handle on the fork is too thin, it’ll dig into my skin.” He opened the other beer and took a long sip, exaggerated by an ahhh and lip smacking.
“You’ve just got thin skin. You bleed a lot, y’know.”
“Maybe you just have sharp knuckles.” Matt chewed on his lip again.
“I said stop doing that.” Mello took his thumb and pulled Matt’s lip away from his tooth. Matt looked down at him, taking his finger into his mouth and sucking on it with wonton eyes. Blue eyes locked onto his face, watching him swallow his thumb. Matt gently sunk his canines into his skin; the rest of Mello’s fingers spread out and cupped his jaw. “Matt, you’re turning me on. Knock it off.”
“Oh no, whatever will we do?” Matt spat out Mello’s thumb and threw up his hands in sarcastic fear. He picked his pizza back up and began shoving it in his mouth, barely giving himself a chance to chew before he took another bite. “Do you want head?” He asked, mouth still full. He washed the pizza down with the beer. Mello looked utterly disgusted that he had the gall to ask that without even swallowing his pizza, but he shrugged and let him guide him to the couch. He shoved him down, dropped to his knees, and got to work.