Hey guys this is Leather. I made this for Stripes because I love her very much. She don't know about this story though, so since they get the email, I'm hoping she'll see your lovely reviews and surprise her.

Sorry love, all those times I wasn't really talking I was working on this. I wanted you to have it before I left for my trip.

I love you Matty!


He was reaching for the sky. That's all he had to do, was reach for the sky. Then his imagination flowed and he could lose reality for a moment. Just one moment, and life would seem like it wasn't the hell he thought it was. Life… what a stupid thing for God to come up with. He closed his eyes, the daydream vivid, surreal. He was an Austrian buff guy shooting the crap out of robots… no… he was a leather trench coat SOLDIER with a long sword, slaying the monsters… now he was a plumber, beating the shit out of bricks. That's what life should be about. Slaying some fucking bricks and getting coins with a promise of the princess at the end of the level.

There was a pounding of boots, breaking Matt from his reverie. A blond was trudging past, leather clad, a look of talk-to-me-and-you-fucking-die across the effeminate features. The guy would have been beautiful like a girl if he didn't have a huge burn on the side of his face.

Matt sat up from the grass, crossing his legs to watch the stranger through the fence. He was in a field of grass, a parking lot on the other side of the fence. His haven was usually quiet, his car the only one parked. There was nothing but abandoned, run-down buildings around here anyway, the only time he was interrupted was by a couple of annoying bratty teenagers looking for something to smash.

And this guy. Always walking past, staring straight ahead, taking the world on one step at a time at four thirty five every evening.

Matt always wanted to say hi. Say something to him, get the guy to smile. Yet, there was a dark aura around the fellow, like a demon in an angel's body. He wondered what color those defiant eyes were, they never once looked his way. But he saw this guy every day. And each encounter left him feeling hollow, as if he was missing something and the guy was going to fulfill it somehow.

Maybe someday he'd say hi.


"Fucking kids…" Matt swore. He usually loved kids. They could play video games, they knew how to have fun. But these were the kind of kids he hated. The kids that destroyed his property. He himself was a kid, being only nineteen, but he felt much older than the sixteen year olds that had just slashed his front tires and took his stereo. Good thing he had left the windows down, or he'd have to pay for those being smashed too.

That's what he got for falling asleep he guessed. Get your shit stolen. And there was no restart button either.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The familiar sound of boots. He sat on the hood of his car, watching the leather-clad teen pass by, checking his cell phone for the time. It was late, the sun low in the sky, casting an eerie orange glow. It was nearly six. The guy was late, which explains why he had fallen asleep. He usually woke up to the sound of his heavy footsteps.

This was the day if any.

He finally had mustered the courage.


The blond froze for a second, then continued on as if nothing had happened.

"I said hey… come on, the least you can do is say hi back!" Matt hopped down from his car, but not daring to go any further. Courage could only take the redhead so far.

The blond stopped but was silent, staring straight ahead.

Matt frowned. This wasn't how he pictured the whole scene. He had imagined it a lot more… friendly. Granted, his imagination also supplied the fact that he was ripped and owned a rocket launcher, but that was besides the point.

"Will it kill you to say something?"

"What do you want?" the stranger snapped, still staring ahead. The tone was callous, angry, cold; it was exactly what Matt had imagined it sounded like, only completely different.

"To say hi," Matt replied.

"Hi then."

"I'm Matt."

"I'm none of your fucking business." The tone raised an octave. There was something in there that caused Matt's heart to hammer. Pain. Muted, strangled pain.

His eyes drew to the ground angrily, a place they usually went when he wanted to think of some sort of amazing comeback. Instead it was brought to his attention that there was fresh blood on the ground. Tiny rust-colored dots that littered the cracked cement in an unsteady trail.

"Hey man… are you okay?"

An uncomfortable, pregnant silence filled the air.

The stranger turned around slowly, deliberately. Matt's heart hammered. This was the moment he had been dreaming of. Meeting this total stranger face-to-face. See what his eyes were. What color they were.

His eyes were beautiful. Crystal clear and the color of the sky.

And they were focused on him.

"If you're trying to kill me, you're doing a poor job. If you're trying to just be friendly, don't. I don't care about you," the stranger said in that tone that was chilling rain during a storm without thunder.

Matt didn't hear a word, lost in the intensity of the two flecks of sky. Sky he wish he could reach out to, get lost from the world. It wasn't until the blond barked out "stop staring," when he reluctantly came back from the clouds.

His eyes were drawn to a dark stain on the stranger's hip, the leather torn in a perfect hole. It could only be a bullet hole.

"Shit man…that looks serious." Matt felt stupid as soon as the words rang in the air. He had forgotten people actually could get hurt… life wasn't a video game. There was no x3 lives.

"I'll live." The cool eyes watched him. The blond reminded him of a stray cat. Wary of any help, used to being abused by people it didn't know. Yet still beautiful and full of fight.

"Get in my car, I'll take you to the hospital."

The stranger glanced at his red 1972 Chevy Nova with the slashed tires. "Yeah, you do that."

"….Fucking kids." Matt cursed himself for not remembering.

"My apartment is nearby… I have a first aid kit that could help?" Matt tried, hoping to amend his first mistake. He really wanted to help this stranger. He didn't know his name… and this was the first time he had ever spoke to him, but he felt completed. Like this is what he was supposed to do.

The blue eyes scrutinized him. "You know I'm not a chick right?"

"Um…yeah. What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not rapeable."

"Dude, I'm just trying to help. You don't have to take it," the redhead said indignantly. What did he look like, some kind of crazy stalker guy? Well… he could admit it would be a littleodd if some guy just started talking to you out of the blue. But people could converse with people they didn't know right? Because like…that's how friendships were formed.

They stared at each other in silence, the blood dripping to the pavement with an inaudible splat.



"My name. You should know it before you take me to your apartment."


An involuntary gasp of pain escaped the blond's lips when Matt's pair of tweezers came out with a dull bullet, coated copper with his blood. "Fuck," he breathed, clenching the bottle of vodka Matt had given him. It sure was handy. He took a swig as Matt dressed the wound, gulping the liquid that burned his throat to take his mind off the white-hot pain. Hydrogen peroxide was fucking painful.

"What the hell happened man?" Matt asked conversationally, wrapping the bullet up and chucking it into the waste bin.

Mello's demeanor changed, suddenly sober with a fierce expression crossing his features. "I got shot. End of fucking story."

"Geez…sorry." This guy was scary, but he couldn't help but think he was cool too. He did get shot in the freaking hip after all, managed to keep walking like nothing had happened, and barely made a noise when the bullet was taken out. This guy had some fucking balls.

They passed the bottle of vodka around in silence of the bathroom Mello drinking considerably more than the redhead. It wasn't long before the blond passed out on the toilet, head drooping on the sink.


Three months. It would make three months today that Matt had taken in the blond stranger.

It was easy to adjust to Mello for some reason. Mello left for odd periods of time, and Matt was fine with that. He was fine that his liquor constantly disappeared and was never replaced, and that Mello would lock him out of the bathroom for hours. He was fine that he had to clean up all the chocolate wrappers yet was constantly chastised for his cigarettes. He was fine with Mello threatening him on a daily basis.

In fact, he had never been more content.

He had no idea how lonely he had gotten. He'd grown up in the orphanage with plenty of kids, so he was used to at least fifty brothers and sisters. But like every orphanage, they threw him out as soon as he turned eighteen, giving him the money his parents had left him in a trust fund. Luckily, it had been a tidy sum, enough to rent out the apartment for a year, buy his car and still pay for food. He wasn't motivated yet to get a job, as he could still pay his way without working provided he kept to his low budget.

Mello was slowly depleting his funds, especially with the constantly disappearing vodka.

Thinking of Mello always inadvertently brought the blond.

Mello's heel came into contact with Matt's door, kicking it open with a force that swung it back on its hinges, protesting loudly. "Fucking fuck…" he growled, tearing open a Hershey's bar and snapping off a large chunk.

"Bad day, I take it," Matt said nonchalantly, eyes glued to the glowing TV screen. Mello was late; it was seven.

"No fucking shit," Mello growled, yanking the fridge open and taking out the newest bottle of vodka, jarring Matt's many cans of Redbull. That was all the fridge had: vodka, Redbull, and chocolate.

Matt didn't comment when Mello sat down next to him on the couch, taking a long draught of the liquid that was bound to be burning the slender, pale throat. Matt tried to focus on his game, shooting the characters on screen, but as soon as Mello entered the room, he was automatically distracted.

Fucking dammit. He was turning into a woman.

"Fuck this, I want cable," Mello growled, grabbing the remote and flicking the channel from input.

"Fuck that, I have to save!" Matt dived for the remote only to have it yanked by Mello. Unfortunately for him, that meant he was drawn across Mello's lap, and Mello looked pretty pissed off. He ended up hitting his head on the table as Mello shook him off, falling to the floor with a painful thump. "Watch your stupid telly," Matt grumbled, rubbing the back of his head and taking a Redbull from the fridge, opening it and downing half.

He wasn't angry.

Mello decided at that moment he was too hot for his clothes.

Matt watched those gloved hands work at the vest, unzipping it and inching it off. Mello had to perform this ritual for his benefit. Had to. It woke a deep, dark hunger in him that wanted to be satiated. But he wouldn't let it. Like hell he would let it.

Mello was a guy.

So was he.

He wasn't gay.

Mello knew how to get under his skin. He wanted a cigarette. He craved a cigarette. Fuck, he really needed a cigarette.

He lit one, leaning against a wall to watch the gunfight taking place across the screen. Typical of Mello to pick something with immense violence. "Smoking will kill you," the velvet voice of Mello spat.

"So what." Matt wasn't in the mood to argue, which was all Mello wanted. The blond was just venting on him.

Mello turned to face the redhead and those eyes caught his. Fuck, he couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Those eyes… each time he felt them he just couldn't think. They made him feel so… alive. Every breath he took before then had been wasted. Each thought nothing. It wasn't until those eyes were on him was life meaningful. He was flying high.

He was so afraid.

Mello's eyes narrowed and Matt's heart leapt. "You always stare."

Matt was blank. His thoughts were confused, dizzy; those perfect lips were talking to him right? Oh…crap. "I'm…I'm uh…" he struggled with an excuse.

"Whatever…" Mello turned back to the TV, and Matt could think again. Knowing he'd just make the whole scenario worse, he downed the rest of his Redbull and went to relieve himself.

When he came back, Mello was waiting for him, leaning against a wall in the hallway to the bathroom. "Do you want me?"

"What?" Matt's face went carefully blank. Crap. Fuck. Shit. How did Mello know?

"You stare at me all the time." Mello was close to him now, his body heat drifting over Matt. It was too much at once, Matt's heart was pumping wildly to the point he thought it'd jump right out of his chest.

"Stop it, you're drunk." It was a pathetic attempt of protest.

"You fucking do, admit it," Mello growled, gloved fingers sliding over Matt's neck. "You want me so fucking bad…"

Matt's body was reacting violently. Fuck he wanted this. Oh fucking yeah he did. Those fingers sliding down to his spine were sin, but it was sin he wanted. Oh, he so fucking wanted.

Mello was teasing him, the fingers sliding to his side then his stomach as the blond made a half circle, stopping in front of the redhead. "You want me Matt?"

"I…." he broke off abruptly, surprised at the lack of distance between him and Mello.

The blond's breath grazed his neck, the pale nose hovering above his tender skin. "You want to fuck the little body you housed." The mouth drew near, those perfect lips centimeters away. "You want me to scream your name."

Matt let out a strangled, painful noise, his body alive with sensations similar to when he was about to climax.

Mello drew away, smirking. "I knew it. You sick fuck."

Like nothing had happened, the blond went back to the couch, flipping through the channels.

Matt's erection ached miserably.


God hated him. Had to hate him. And Matt didn't even give a shit if there was a God or not. That must be why He hated him so damn much.

Mello was torture.

Fucking torture.

Mello was unattainable. Mello wasn't a chick.

But here was Matt. In the shower. Trying desperately to not think of the blond. And failing. Failing so hard. If Mello was a girl, this would be so much easier. He wouldn't hate himself. He wouldn't be so worried about screwing him. He wouldn't care that he wanted to hear the blond's moans, wanted to make him scream. Wanted Mello to makehim scream. He wanted Mello to pound him into the fucking mattress, that rosary digging into his skin as they both cried out in ecstasy, spent to their limit before the orgasm.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to erase that image.

He was so horny.

He'd never been this fucking horny.

His nails bit into his hip. He wouldn't touch himself. Not to Mello's image. He couldn't. That would be wrong. So wrong. A sin. A filthy, disgusting sin.

Fuck sin.

Fuck Him.

That was Mello's shit. He heard the blond pray. Seen the lips move in silent prayer. Watched him clutch the crucifix as if nothing else mattered. He almost wished he was that silver piece of metal, Mello constantly was playing with it. Twirling it in his hands. Biting the metal, tongue running on the underside when he was thinking.

How the hell could he be so jealous of an inanimate object?

Scratch that.

How could he be so fucking horny thinking of what happened to that inanimate object?

He lost a little self control. The nails raked a little lower. Blood beaded and was washed away. The hot water stung. He had to resist. He had to.

He couldn't.

He could.

No he fucking couldn't.

When he touched himself, it was as if he had never known pleasure. Irritated that he had given in, he promised himself he wouldn't moan. Not to Mello's image. Mello was as pretty as a chick… it was kind of normal for a guy to wank to that right? Like… once? It wasn't as if this was on purpose…

What a lie.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was the pleasure. The intense pleasure. Mello… oh Mello. Fucking Mello. The shower's steam turned into body heat. The cold tile into silk that hugged the body in delicious ways. His fantasy was being made real.

"You're a good boy," Mello whispered into his ear. His hands were coated with leather, the gloves providing a texture so pleasurable against his member that he nearly climaxed right there. Fucking Mello. Always knew how to tease.

"For you…" Matt mumbled, his stomach taunt as he tried to keep himself from the ultimate pleasure.

A gloved hand went to stroking his red hair, the fingers massaging his scalp, tugging at the strands to give off delightful pleasure. Petting him. He was a pet. "You're a good boy," Mello repeated, his smirk widening. "Such a good dog."

A whimper escaped Matt. Mello was entering him. There wasn't any pain. Only pleasure. Pure, carnal bliss. Another whimper escaped. Then another. A tyrant of sounds escaped his throat as Mello pounded into him, slamming him into the bed over and over again. His whimpers escalated into moans.

Matt's fist banged into the tile wall as he stroked himself faster and faster, crying out softly. His stomach clenched, the familiar feeling washing over him. A faint "Mello…" escaped his lips and he slumped over, trying to steady his breathing.

Fucking Mello. Always knew how to get under his skin.


Matt hated doing dishes. If he had the money, he'd invest in a dish washer. But all his money was going to vodka lately, so his hopes were shot. He sighed, resigning to his fate. If he looked at it as a "leveling up" opportunity, it didn't seem so bad. Finish the dishes and get EXP! Or something…maybe this kind of thing was more SIMS like. His bar was being raised?

He poured a stale mix of vodka and Redbull down the sink, scrubbing at the glass then rinsing it with scalding water. It took him a while to register he was being watched.

Matt tensed, scrubbing harder. Mello's eyes on him always did this. He couldn't concentrate. But he couldn't afford to break another glass either…

Mello's body was molded against his.

It wasn't a fantasy this time either. He wasn't wanking. Especially not to dishwashing.

"What are you doing?" Matt said coolly. His voice was good. It didn't betray how he was feeling. That his knees were getting weak. Like he was some fucking swooning girl.

"Hey Matt," Mello breathed in his left ear, sending a delightful array of sensations down his neck to his spine.

"Get off." There was a hint of anger in his tone.

"You don't really want me to," Mello continued. "You want me."

"Mello…" Matt said warningly.

"Oh shut up." Mello's fingers were tracing patterns over his hips. Mello's crotch was digging into his ass. Matt wanted it. But no… he wasn't going to push himself against the guy. His pride wouldn't let him. No matter how good it'd feel.

Mello's hand moved lower so that it was resting right above his crotch. "You like that," the blond whispered. "You want that. You can't deny it."

Matt stayed silent, clutching the glass in his hand. This wasn't fair. Mello wasn't making things fair. He shouldn't be this horny. Not towards a guy. He shouldn't.

Mello's hand dipped without warning, cupping his hard on and causing Matt to gasp involuntarily and drop the glass. It shattered in the sink. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. He was on fire. It felt too good. Way too good. His body arched without his consent, pushing him into Mello. Just like the blond wanted. Mello was constantly fucking breaking his mental promises.


Mello cradled Matt to him, licking the shell of his ear. "Look at you. Unable to resist."

This was the first time any real protest came from the redhead. "Fuck you Mello. Get off."

"You want to fuck me, yes," the blond purred silkily. He was loving this. "But you're never going to. I'm Catholic, Matt. In case you didn't realize, that means I don't fuck boys." His thumb swept over Matt's bulge, the jeans dulling the touch, but still causing the redhead to twitch to life.

"I think you're lying," Matt said coldly. "I think you do nothing but fuck boys. Right now you're trying to get in my pants, and hey, I wasn't the one who instigated this. I was just doing the fucking dishes."

Mello grinded against Matt, a cruel chuckle escaping his throat. "You asshole…" He let Matt go, and walked away, still chuckling.

Matt was desperately confused.


It was four thirty according to his cell phone. Mello should be walking by at any moment.

Matt had been in his empty lot all day. It had been a very good, very relaxing day. He just stared at the clouds, letting his mind trick itself to make shapes, then napping and repeating the process. It was heaven.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Mello was approaching.

He sat up, crossing his legs Indian-style and fighting to keep a smile back when the blond came into view. Stupid Mello, always doing this to him.

Well…maybe not so stupid.

"Hey!" he greeted, leaning towards the fence.

Mello stopped, blinking for a second as if broken from deep thought, his body slowly turning towards him. "…Oh. You."

"What do you mean, 'oh you'!?" Matt frowned. Mello could be such an asshole.

A fucking sexy, perfect asshole.

A grin appeared, taking the redhead by surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Mello asked, scaling the fence and dropping down lightly.

"I'm always here… just… not since you came to live with me."

Mello didn't respond, spreading out next to Matt and staring at the sky.

Matt relaxed, glad that Mello wasn't going to try anything weird. He stretched out beside the blond, turning his gaze to the clouds.

"I can see why you like it here," Mello said abruptly, pulling a piece of chocolate from his pocket and unwrapping it.

"It's peaceful."

Mello made a noise of agreement, gnawing on the sweet treat. They laid in silence, simply watching the clouds.

They didn't speak for over an hour, content to rest in each other's company. This is why Matt could get along with Mello so well. They complimented each other. They knew when to be quiet. Being together was instinctual, a natural thing.

It wasn't until an orange glow spread onto the grass from the setting sun did Mello speak. "Have you ever wondered what it is I do?"

"It's your business," Matt shrugged, eyes closed with the goggles pulled over them. He was curious though. He had thought of tailing the blond. But a particular incident of Mello pointing a pistol at him saying if he ever did he'd die had prevented that. He didn't know anything about Mello. Where he came from, what he did, even how old he was. Yet, Mello didn't know anything about him either. They knew nothing, but were completely content living with each other.

"I'm an arms dealer. I sell illegal weapons and shit."

"That's cool."

"I'm being serious."

"Yeah. It's cool."

"You play too many videogames."

Matt rolled onto his side, glaring at the blond. "Videogames are life!"

Mello rolled to face him, licking his lips to moisten them. "What a pathetic life." He smirked.

"Fuck you!"

"You want to."

They stared at each other.

Matt felt impulsive. They were so close. Too close for comfort. But Matt was comfortable. He wanted less distance. He knew what he wanted.

He kissed him. He kissed Mello hard.

He wasn't going to deny it anymore.

He wanted this guy. And he wanted him bad. Right now.

When Mello kissed him back, his body jolted with intense pleasure. Mello was better than anything he had ever had. It was intense, fervent and exactly what he wanted.

Mello's hands fisted themselves in his hair and he had a hand gripping the blond's hips and all sense of dignity and pride was lost.

They clawed at each other, taking what they wanted, demanding what they wanted. Mello's tongue delved between his lips and Matt accepted, rising to the challenge. It was impossible for Mello to be this good. It had to be. Or it was a sin. So much for being a Catholic.

The next thing Matt knew he had rolled on top of the blond, straddling his waist as they grew vicious with their lust. They had denied each other too long. Denied their bodies the true pleasure that each desired. Right hands could never compare.

Mello's gloved fingers dug into his back and scratched him, leaving long trails of red down his back. It felt so good. So fucking good.

Then those gloved hands were raking down his chest and he was crying out for more, squeezing his eyes shut with impossible pleasure. The pain felt so good. It was white-hot and numbing, perfect with the cold air settling around him. Each time those nails stung his flesh his body twitched and ached, pleading for more. How could he have denied himself this for so long? He would never go back. It was all over now, he just wanted Mello.

Mello caught his wrist and kissed it before pushing his arm away so he could kiss and lick at Matt's collar. Matt didn't like that as much. He wanted the pain. He didn't care if he died from blood loss right now, as long as Mello was making him feel this good. Blissfully Mello bit him. Those sharp canines that were used to chocolaty goodness pierced him and drew blood. It was sinfully sweet. His head felt light. He was flying.

He turned his head and caught those perfect lips in another kiss. He could taste the copper of his blood. Mello would taste much sweeter he was sure. His own gloved hands kept Mello from moving his head, forcing him to keep kissing. Damn he loved kissing. No one else could do this. It was like victory music going over again and again around him, never-ending as long as they kept this up.

A feral growl escaped the blond. He wanted to be in charge. Mello was always in charge. He was a fighter. Always on top. Always.

When he bit Matt's lip he was surprised at the wanton groan that came from the redhead. He was moaning like a bitch. And damn did Mello like it. He liked their bodies close together. What he didn't like was that he was the one spread out on the ground like a girl.

With a burst of strength he pushed up and shoved Matt backwards, propelling himself so that he was now straddling the redhead, his heavy boots digging into the dirt. "You're mine," Mello murmured, leaning down to gaze in the dazed redhead's eyes. He licked the welled blood from the wound he had inflicted on his lips, closing his eyes. Matt tasted so good. He was curious what the rest of him tasted like.

The redhead shook off the dizziness that accompanied such a harsh fall, hands pressing into Mello's scalp, pushing him down to kiss him. That tongue worked him again, his own fighting, struggling to dominate, but failing. Mello was too good.

He hesitated. Was he going to do it?

Fuck yeah he was.

He pulled away from Mello and pressed his lips to his neck, exactly what Mello had done just minutes before. His lips parted and he bit the skin, sucking the blood. God he was right. Mello tasted so sweet, it was dizzying.

His hands worked downwards from the yellow hair, one slipping into Mello's vest to run a nimble finger up and down the taunt flesh. His other kept a steady grip on the thin hips, as if afraid the blond would get up and leave.

Mello arched into his touch, spreading the fingers against his chest, the heat pulsing. Matt drew his fingers together so his nails dug into the pale flesh, ending with a closed fist. Mello's head snapped away from his mouth, a groan passing through his lips.

They were both hot and heavy, erections aching through the denim and leather respectively. They wanted so much. So fucking much.

"Do you want me?" Mello breathed.

"Do you need to ask?"


"Yes. Fucking yes," Matt lifted his hips from the ground, grinding into the leather clad crotch.

Mello's cold blue eyes gazed into Matt's. Their breath mingled in unsteady pants. The lust unmistaken, bodies hot and feverish with it. And Matt could think. For the first time since Mello set his eyes on him, his head was clear.

"You do realize we're outside right?" Mello said without any emotion, eyes scrutinizing.

"I don't care," Matt replied, pressing forward to kiss the blond.

Mello jerked back, frowning. "I'm not gay."

"Nor am I."

"Good." A cruel smile graced his lips and he bent to kiss Matt.

"Wait," Matt said, a gloved finger against Mello's lips. "There's something I want to do first."

"Hurry the fuck up."

Matt smiled, wrapping his fingers around the rosary then slipping it off, throwing it to the ground. "Okay."

Mello's eyes followed the rosary's descent, the smirk waning. Then he looked at Matt. Then at the rosary again. He sighed deeply, uncharacteristically, closing his eyes.

Matt felt worry eat at his stomach. Did he do the wrong thing? But he didn't want that stupid rosary, the symbol of God, especially during this sex escapade.

His fears were thrown aside when Mello attacked him, sweeping him in a kiss that cleared all thoughts and left him wanting more. Desperate for more. But instead the blond was trailing down, pushing his striped shirt up so he could kiss his chest, his hot and wet tongue circling his nipple in a fashion that made him whimper from the pleasure.

Then he was shirtless and he was unzipping Mello's leather vest with his teeth, the blond arching when he kissed the flat stomach, licking the perfect belly button. His hands slid up the bare back to push the blond down, his lips meeting with the scratches from earlier and tasting the seductive scarlet liquid.

Mello tasted better than anything. He was sweeter than chocolate.

Mello shifted and the leather pants were sliding down his hips. Matt brought the blond closer, peeling off a glove and flinging it to the side, undoing the lace of the crotch so that Mello could move his legs freely. He took the swollen member in his hand, pausing momentarily before giving it a seductive lick.

Hearing Mello moan was beautiful.

He was sucking and licking, Mello's hands fisting in his hair as the blond arched over him, his moans far apart, but more appealing each time. He was willing to just let the blond orgasm right then but Mello suddenly jerked away, eyes filled with lust. He wasn't going to let Matt go that easily. This was going to be painful as it was pleasurable.

He slid down Matt's body, sitting on Matt's legs and tearing off the belt, getting off the redhead just long enough to move his pants to his ankles. Satisfied, he shook his own leather pants completely off, straddling the redhead's knees, spreading them apart.

"How bad do you want me?" Mello purred darkly.

"Fucking bad… fuck me Mello…" Matt felt a little pathetic, his tone was so desperate.

"Good," Mello smirked. He made to take off his gloves, but Matt grabbed his hand, shaking his head.

"Keep them."

"Kinky bitch," Mello grinned. He liked it. He thrust two fingers into Matt's mouth, choking the redhead slightly as he coated the harsh leather with saliva. When Mello figured it was enough lube, he took them out and instead drove the fingers into Matt's virgin ass.

Matt saw red. This pain didn't feel good. It fucking hurt. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, the onslaught feeling like someone just raped him with a broomstick.

"Breathe," Mello muttered and he realized he had been holding in his breath from the pain. He let it out, his body relaxing with the released tension of his lungs and his muscles slid beneath Mello's fingers so that he hit a spot that replaced the red haze with flashes of white pleasure.

"Oh!" Matt gasped, arching into the fingers as Mello continued to press against his prostate, scissoring inside to prepare for something bigger.

The sound was chocolate to the blond's ears. Mello took his digits from Matt who mourned the loss only to be filled with an extremely hard organ. Once again pain wracked him but remembering how relaxing had helped, he forced the tension away. Mello slid forward and exactly like before, the pleasure returned.

Fuck nothing had ever felt this good.

Mello rocked against him, his thrusts soft and slow against his prostate. It wasn't enough. Matt opened himself to Mello, pulling at the blond's hair, eyes pleading.

And damn did Mello deliver.

Mello delivered hard.

Matt felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes as Mello blasted into him, slapping him against the dirt and grass. His fingernails dug into the blond's shoulders as soft cries escaped him. He barely could contain the noise when Mello's gloved hand slid up and down his weeping engorged member.

Yet fuck, he wanted fucking more. He wanted Mello deep inside him. He wanted to feel the blond, and he wanted the blond to feel him.

Mimicking the move that Mello had performed before, Matt switched their positions, forcing Mello back with a heavy thump. It had hurt, jostling his insides, but he knew what he wanted. He had watched enough porn to know.

He rode that blond.

Mello let out hoarse moans from underneath him as he pressed himself against his new lover, thrusting erratically, filling himself with the pleasure Mello could give. Fuck did Mello give it.

Mello pressed him down for an unsteady kiss as he came inside the redhead, his body shaking with the effort.

Matt kissed him back, on the edge himself. He reached down to help Mello who was pumping him furiously, their hands joining in a feverish pace. "Mello!" he cried a few seconds later, his seed spewing onto the both of him.

Matt collapsed against him, trying to steady his breathing. Fuck he wanted to do that again. Not now at this moment. But again. He didn't want Mello to ever leave him.

Rested, Matt rolled off the blond with a satisfied sigh, their lips joining once more.

This wasn't a dream. This was real. And Matt was satisfied. Better than he had ever been in his life. Nothing could compare to the glow he was feeling right now.

Reality had never been better.


Hey guys, remember, PLEASE REVIEW! I'm not telling her that I posted this, as I wrote it without Stripes knowledge, and I want her to be surprised when she gets alerted from the reviews.

Love you guys (but mainly Matt),