Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Sin or Spend the Night All Alone ❯ Sin or Spend the Night All Alone (Part Three) ( Chapter 3 )

Sin or spend the night all alone

Masamune Reforged

a Death Note- Mello x Matt fanfic

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, nor Matt or Mello. The quoted song is “Me vs. Madonna vs. Elvis” by Brand New. I know, a crazy name for a song like this... I don't even like that band; but this song is absolutely awesome and made me write this.

 

Warnings: Yaoi (Mello x Matt, graphic, kinky lemon: bondage, rough S&M), angst, cursing, alcohol.

 

Author's Note: Again, I want to thank all the people who have been so wonderful. I never expected to get so many reviews and so much support. You've all been wonderful, and really have helped me push forward to complete this.

That being said, I must advise you, when I say “graphic, kinky lemon, bondage, rough S&M” I mean it! As most of you have learned by now, this is not a sweet, passionate love story. It is gritty, dark, twisted and perverse; and you can believe that the sex is going to be the same.

 

Song lyrics are encompassed in ~~...lyrics...~~

 

Part Three

 

 

You might wonder why I'm like this; how I can be like this.

 

Doesn't it ever bother you, Mello, living this way? Treating people like this?

 

Doesn't it ever bother you, Mello, that you've never loved anybody? That you've never been loved?

 

Doesn't it bother you that,even this one- this one you might actually break your rule for- that you treat him like this?

 

Honestly, sometimes it does bother me; but only late at night, after it's been done.

 

Sometimes, when I lie down at night, after another dirty, rotten day of murder, fraud and empty sex, it does get to me. I lay there and can smell the sulfur from the guns, see their bloodied faces, taste their bitter saliva, feel their clawing arms, and hear their final, piercing scream.

 

Sometimes it keeps me up until the sun rises.

 

~~I will lie awake~~

 

But I have my own way of coping with these things. Like everything else, I can overcome them.

 

I remind myself that, in fact, those people are garbage. I remind myself that they were too pathetic to stand up to me, too stupid to not bow their heads to me. They wanted me to bring them home and make them into my sex toys. They deserve being treated like the trash they are. I am entitled to crushing them under my heel like bugs, because they are much like bugs to me.

 

I smile at the thought of all those I've crushed like that. I smile because the fact that they are dead, or cheated, or completely broken to my will, is testament to my superiority. I find some kind of bittersweet solace in their broken dreams, because their destruction is the realization of my own. In some twisted fashion that I subscribed to long ago, each life I destroy or take adds to my own.

 

I find I sleep best when I have someone else there in bed with me, anyone else. Instead of reflecting on the conquests and the troubling discontent reflection brings, I can conquer anew. Next to me is someone else to crush, someone else to bend to my power.

 

So, when I lie awake at night, I can just roll over and wake them up; sometimes with a surprisingly gentle shake that betrays the remorse, or with a rough shake to send them blinking awake in fear, or casually rolling them over onto their back or front to succinctly remind them that they've been awakened to satisfy my needs, or with a bone crushing stranglehold around their throats to send them into a futile, desperate battle for their lives.

 

It doesn't matter how I wake them anyway, the trash.

 

~~Lie for fun and fake the way I hold you ~~

 

“Hey there, wake up. You know, I had such a good time before, I just can't get to sleep now... It was so good... So I was thinking, how about another go?”

 

And they shake off sleep, glad to be my willing whore.

 

“Wake up! No... it's me. Good. Now, you know what I want. Shh... No more protesting, get to it.”

 

And they shake off their fear, glad to be my slave.

 

“That's right, you good for nothing slut. It's time to fuck that slutty pussy of yours again. Now get ready to take it.”

 

And they shake off the indignation, glad to be my sex toy.

 

“Yeah, struggle- struggle, you worm! Fight! Fight me, or I'm going to kill you! Come on, you piece of trash! Can't you even fight back? I'll make you cum before you die, you worm.”

 

And they shake off the world of life, because it was my will.

 

~~Let you fall for every empty word I say. ~~

 

It's dark here too, and cold. The heater hasn't worked right since I chained that college student to it... I smile at the memory and flick on the foyer light, throwing light and shadow on the dirty doormat, the mahogany coat hanger, the brass knobs of the closet, the plush carpet leading to the bedroom.

 

Behind me there is a thump and then a wooden bang, and I know Matt has just fallen against the apartment door, knocking it against the wall.

 

“Fuck! Fuckin' stairs! Why've you got to live on the top floor of a place that don't have an elevator?”

 

I don't turn around, but can picture Matt leaning up against the door for support, looking for some kind of response from me. I ignore him, walking into the kitchen instead.

 

“Hey!” he yells, then, when I don't respond, softer, “Hey? Hey, Mello, you got some water in there? I ... ugh, I think I drank too much...”

 

I know that what Matt's saying is true, but he'll get no sympathy from me. I think back to the bar, to just after his friends had left. After telling Sheff to lock up, I'd gone behind the bar and gotten a high proof bottle of gin, pouring both of us a large shot of it, then mixing more in two glasses with some grenadine and lemon. Matt had sat quietly at the bar, watching me, only slightly raising an eyebrow when I pushed the glass I'd poured the most gin into in front of him. I stared him down in a way that eliminated any possibility of him saying something about it.

 

“Fuck!” Matt curses as I hear him stumble on the shoe-rack in the foyer, then kick at it. I make a note that I'll have to teach him to handle my belongings with more respect in the future.

 

Matt had stayed quiet for almost all the rest of the time at the bar. Sure, he'd made a few sputtering noises when he choked down his third shot. He'd cursed and made a face when he tasted how strong his drink was. He'd even started rambling on about how my feeding him all this booze bordered on date-rape, but one icy glance was all it took to have him swallow the rest of his words.

 

“Hey, you got any water in here?” He's leaning against the kitchen doorway now.

 

He'd stayed quiet- angry and quiet, until I'd finally told him it was time to leave. He'd looked at me with a face like a snarling, misbehaving dog, and I'd slapped him across the face hard enough to almost draw blood. After that, he actually did snarl, but looking at me then, had thought better of it, and followed me outside to my car.

 

“Get it yourself,” I tell him, pointing to the faucet.

 

And he'd drunkenly curled up against me on the ride home.

 

~~Barely conscious in the door where you stand ~~

 

“Huh? The fuck? How 'bout showing some goddamn hospitality? You treat all your guests like this?”

 

I turn to him now, still leaning up against the kitchen door frame. “Oh? And I thought guests weren't supposed to make such snotty demands of their hosts?” Finished faking disdain, I drop the mocking tone and say, “Besides, you're not my guest; you're just my toy.”

 

Matt laughs, saying, “Your toy huh? Yeah, yeah, I remember you sayin' something like that. Yeah, your little sex toy, right? Isn't that what you said?”

 

He's able to give me lip, but hardly able to stay on his feet. Without the doorframe for support, he'd probably be staggering, struggling just to stand.

 

“You remember what I said,” I tell him. “Don't make me repeat myself.”

 

“Yeah, I remember,” Matt shoots back, still full of sass. “Something about fucking my ass until dawn, right? Was that it? Or was it until I screamed and shot off all over the both of us?”

 

I look forward to beating it out of him. And I say nothing, just looking at him instead and wondering if his lean frame will be able to take it. I've broken so many others...

 

“Yeah, you said you were going to strip me naked and tie me down, then fuck my randy little ass until I scream your name. Isn't that what you said you'd do?”

 

His eyes are blurred, tired and drunk, but demanding and fiery.

 

“Turn me into your personal little slut, make me love it.”

 

He shivers slightly from the lingering cold, unaware of even doing it as he stares at me demandingly through eyes that threaten to shut. Matt barely keeps them open, barely keeps himself on his feet.

 

“Right? Ain't that right?” he asks. “So, you going to do it, or what?”

 

~~Your eyes are fighting sleep while ~~

~~Your mouth makes your demands ~~

 

The kitchen joins onto the living room, which is still bathed in darkness. I head towards it, beckoning with a finger for Matt to follow. I stop next to the big-screen TV, on the wall with the shelves and furniture that house the electronics, guns and explosives. I turn to make sure Matt is watching, leaning forward on the counter dividing the kitchen from the living room. I keep my eyes on him as I open a drawer.

 

“What I'm going to do...” I start to say, rummaging through the drawer briefly before finding what I want.

 

It is dark in this room, but the moon and the city lights streaming in through the large glass window give enough light.

 

“...is take this...”

 

I hold up a small, half used plastic tube. It's light enough to barely see, dark enough to not see all.

 

“...this heating gel, and smear it all inside of your slutty little ass. It'll get quite warm, just so you know, and you'll probably be squirming and begging to let me flush it out within minutes.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Matt shoots back defiantly.

 

I put the lube down on top of the drawers, pulling out the next item, a long, silk string with beads fastened to it in a row of size order; the smallest tinier than a dime, the largest as big as a soda can.

 

“Then I'll take these beads and feed them into you. And I'll pull them out one at a time, slow enough to keep you hard and leaking, but not fast enough to give you release.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Matt shoots back defiantly.

 

I put the beads down next to the lube, pulling out a large, studded dildo. It is recently used, and I can still smell the sweat and the dried fear from the last boy on it. The plastic studs are rigid, and will roughly grate along the inner walls rather than bend against the resistance.

 

“And then I'll take this dildo and shove it into your ass, and fuck you with it until you're begging for my cock; which is quite a bit bigger, I'll tell you.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Matt shoots back defiantly, but his eyes are wide now, riveted on the dildo.

 

I set it down and pull out a pair of handcuffs and a length of rope. Walking over towards him, I notice that Matt moves up off from the counter he's been leaning on, backing away slightly. I set the cuffs and rope down directly where his hands were.

 

“And I will cuff your hands behind your back, so that you won't be able to touch yourself, no matter how much you want to. And I'll splay your legs apart and tie them to the bedposts, so that you'll be spread wide open for me like the whore you are.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Matt shoots back, turning to me as I pass him.

 

I go to the stove and turn one of the dials on. Reaching up, my rock-hard dick presses against the counter, before I pull down a large vat and an open cooking pot. I pour some of the vat into the pot, until it is almost full of the yellowish liquid. I show it to Matt, explaining:

 

“And I will take this wax and pour it on every sensitive spot on your body. Your fingers, your toes, your kneecaps, you nipples, your cock; I'll cover them all. And you'll just have to howl and wriggle uselessly while it happens.”

 

I turn the dial all the way up, the flames roaring up from the stove, then set the pot down on top of it.

 

Matt shoots back, much less defiantly now, “...Oh yeah?”

 

And before turning from the stove, I pull out a large, serrated carving knife.

 

I hold it in my palm, slowly advancing towards Matt, explaining, “And I will cut you wherever I please, sometimes shallow, sometimes deep. I'll cut you while I fuck you, and you'll scream and yell and buck and try to fight, which is just fine with me. And I'll draw the blood until you're lightheaded, and fuck you until you're delirious with lust. And I'll cut you deeper and have you scream from the pain, and fuck you harder so you scream from the pleasure; and when you finally do cum you won't know which it was that pushed you over the edge.”

 

I'm directly in front of Matt now, and swiftly bring my arm up. He is too stunned with fear, too drunk with anticipation to move, and the tip is at his throat before he can even flinch.

 

~~You laugh at every word ~~

~~Trying hard to be cute ~~

 

Mattt takes a deep gulp of air involuntarily, Adam's apple bobbing and nicking the knife, but not enough to draw blood. I reach up, and he does flinch this time, backing away, futilely pressing up against the counter. I take the one step left to close the gap, keeping the knife floating in his sight, reaching out again with my other hand.

 

I remove his goggles from his forehead, throwing them casually behind him, somewhere in the living room. He hadn't worn them once all night, but the message should be clear. It is time to see this for what it really is. This is the moment of truth, and I want him to know all of it down to the last gory detail.

 

I tilt the knife and bring it up against his throat. Matt freezes. The blade is flush with the skin of his neck now, and I drag it slowly upwards, bristling and raking against his vulnerable flesh with the serrated teeth. It will not cut him, but will set his nerve ends on fire. He lets out a slow, petrified breath, keeping his neck stiff and unmoving.

 

There is no playing games here. There is no talking shit. There is no safe word. There is no limit.

 

“I am not joking,” I say, my tone reinforcing my words. “I am deathly serious.”

 

Matt's brown eyes are wide and awake now, not free of fear, but with more than a tangible hint of interest burning darkly behind them. He cannot nod to show that he understands; but, then again, I don't really need him to. Even a dog understands the spectre of death. Even the most wasted drunkard will be sobered by the edge of a knife.

 

“I am going to hurt you,” I tell him softly, nearly in a whisper. “I am going to abuse you, make you suffer. I will make you scream in terror; I will have you crying in pain.

 

Matt says nothing, makes no movements; so I continue, “I am going to fuck you without any regard for your body. I am going to use you for my enjoyment and my enjoyment alone. I am going to fuck you whether you like it or not. Even if you fight, I will just beat you down, tie you up, and rape you anyway.”

 

Matt says nothing, makes no movements; so again I continue, “This is how I like it, Mail; this is what I am now. I take what I want, and I take it however I want to. You are no exception. I don't care if you like it or not, or if you say 'no' or not. You're mine now, and I will treat you as I please.”

 

Matt says nothing, makes no movements. Pressing up against him, I can feel his rock-hard sex pushing out from his jeans, can feel his slow, tattered breaths on my face. I can see far, far down into his eyes, down into the very bottom of him.

 

Somehow, I expected him to resist... or to say something... or...

 

I didn't expect this.

 

But there is no turning back now, I remind myself, looking Matt in the eyes so that he will know this too. He says nothing, makes no movements, just stares back at me.

 

And so I clutch him by the shirt, pull him forward, and hungrily kiss him.

 

~~I almost feel sorry for what I'm gonna do ~~

 

-end part three

 

Well, finally got this out too... Faster than I'd expected too. I had some trouble with the transitions, and I realize it's sudden that they're back at Mello's out of nowhere, but I felt there wasn't much more to do at the bar that couldn't be covered in the brief flashback in this chapter. I also had a hard time trying to cover the essential setting descriptions while keeping the pace of the mounting lemon (which will begin in full force in the next part, trust me.

 

As I said, if you don't think I'll have Mello do those things to Matt, or at least something on the same level, or if you don't think you'd like to read such things, I advise you don't read the next chapter. Indeed, this goes beyond the realm of 'erotic' and well into the 'perverse', but it is how I imagine a sexual relationship to be between these two.

 

Although, I do honestly hope you enjoyed this part, as well as what is to come.

-masamune reforged