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Near poked the tiny yellow duck that dared float into his bubble of personal space. It skated across the surface and collided with a group at the end of the bath, scattering them in all directions like billiard balls. He leaned back and relaxed his arm on the side of the tub. One leg was bent to his chest with the knee exposed to the cold air. The other extended across the length of the interior and was slightly elevated to allow his toes to prod at the pile of rubber ducks congregating around them.
As much as his pruning skin was starting to annoy him, he persisted, knowing his body was too warm and comfortable to peel away from the porcelain that he had made into a temporary haven. He tried to convince himself that he couldn’t leave because he hadn’t washed his hair yet, but he knew better than that. He was intentionally stalling.
Once he was out of the bath, he would have to return to his cases, and though it was the job he had been striving towards his whole life, he admittedly found the work repetitive, having committed to it for years. He didn’t match the unwavering passion that had spurred his predecessor on. To him, it was a job like any other – one that he excelled at, but not the kind that ignited a flame in his stomach and coaxed him out of bed in the morning.
Really, with L’s hefty fortune behind him, he could afford to retire right now, as a young adult. But it wasn’t about money. It was his duty to uphold justice in the world. Someone had to do it, and despite having been his boyfriend for almost two years now, Mello still refused to share the role. Haunted by the lingering remnants of his fragile pride, Near supposed. So it had to be him.
The door rattled and a firm knock lured Near out of his web of tangled thoughts. He silently scolded another duck for drifting too close to him, before calling out: “It’s unlocked.”
Mello wasted no time in making his presence known. He barged in, arms folded against a bare chest with the entirety of his jagged burn scar visible across his left shoulder. His scalding glare centred on Near, though having tolerated this kind of attention since his childhood, Near wasn’t fazed at all beneath the accusatory spotlight of Mello’s ice blue eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mello growled.
Near's lips pursed as he noticed another duck wandering into his space and cast it away with a flick of his wrist.
“You’ll need to be more specific."
Mello took another step into the room. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been in the bathtub?”
Near glanced at the adjacent window. It was deliberately foggy to prevent onlookers from peeking into their private affairs, but it was transparent enough for Near to notice the deep orange hues sifting through the glass to drench the predominantly white room in its glow. That light indicated the midst of sunset.
“If I had to guess, I’d say around two hours,” he said.
He plucked two ducks from the end of the tub and perched them on the side as a visual aid to his statement; one for each hour he had spent in their company. Water skidded off their backs and formed a puddle on the cool tile below.
“Two and a half,” Mello corrected.
Near frowned at the absence of any half-ducks to signify this new information. He made a mental note to look for different sizes of the rubber creatures next time he managed to drag his reluctant boyfriend out to go toy shopping. He added a third duck to the row and opted to lay it on its side to represent the additional half hour.
Mello marched over to the corner of the bathroom where the tub was positioned adjacent the wall and flicked the ducks off the edge, sending them tumbling across the room along with any remnants of moisture still clinging to the rubber. He started on the rest of the ducks that were still crowded around one end of the bath. He shook each one to dry it just a little, before condemning them to the same fate as their counterparts.
“Why do you insist on bathing with these fucking things?” he complained as he removed the last of them and started to work on unbuckling his tight leather pants.
Near ignored the question, instead posing one of his own. “What are you doing?”
The now fully-naked Mello narrowed his eyes.
“What do you think? I’m coming in with you.”
Near’s eyes trailed down to his own reflection in the ripples of the water to avoid staring for too long at the lower half of Mello’s body. No matter how many times he had seen it, he still noticed himself becoming flustered each time Mello boldly stripped in front of him. It started with an embarrassing blush across his cheeks as his face heated up, then the flush crept into his neck and his ears, and he couldn’t help the way his eyes always moved when those new expanses of skin were visible to him, the same way a moth was drawn to the light.
“Why?” he asked.
Mello motioned for Near to slide forward, which he did, allowing Mello to fit neatly into the space behind him. He wrapped his legs around the smaller boy, and his feet extended past the length of Near’s.
“I’m speeding up the process for you,” Mello said.
Near heard the crack of the shampoo bottle opening and twisted his head to watch Mello squeeze its contents into his hand.
“Wet your hair for me,” he instructed.
“Mello-”
“Just shut the fuck up and do it.”
Near had come to learn that this was Mello’s love language. Glaring, cursing and a weirdly contradictory degree of gentle affection expressed through his touch. He could be affectionate with his words, too, when he wanted to be. Most often, that occurred in his half-conscious state, either minutes from falling asleep or barely waking up from it.
Those were Near’s favourite moments, the times when pet names and sweet affirmations would effortlessly pour from the man who was typically gruff and demanding. Mello would deny it when he was more alert, of course, and Near wasn’t quite sure if it was because he was embarrassed or he genuinely didn’t remember. He figured it was the former, but also found something appealing in the idea that this was just a secret shared between himself and Mello’s near-slumbering form.
But for now, while they were both awake and aware, Near was content to settle for the unspoken validation of Mello’s hands kneading products into his scalp and massaging invisible patterns into his shoulders whilst he washed the suds away. Their relationship was doomed to be anything other than easy, but these quiet, peaceful moments between just the two of them made the challenges worthwhile.
Mello finished washing out the last of the conditioner and tried to drag Near out of the water. Near clung to the side of the bathtub in defiance.
“Come on,” Mello urged with a firmer nudge of Near’s arm. “My hands are getting all wrinkled.”
He wiggled his fingers in front of Near to display the effects of the warm water on his skin.
“You can get out if you'd like,” Near said. “There’s a spare towel on the rack.”
“No, you're not staying in here a second longer.”
"Please don't make me." Near cringed at how helpless he sounded. His voice was practically a whisper as he spoke the second time, as if he were afraid L could somehow hear him from a nonexistent afterlife; that he would be disappointed to learn Near wanted to abandon his responsibilities. "I don't want to go back to work."
Mello exhaled against the back of his boyfriend’s neck and his harsh demeanour softened. He sank back down into the tub and resumed stroking Near's sides, choreographing the light shivers of his body as he melted into the pleasant sensation. Mello leaned forward until his mouth was aligned with Near's ear, breathing directly into its shell.
“Did something happen?”
Near noticed Mello’s tone had adopted a soothing quality and his muscles relaxed at the sound.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. It's just exhausting,” he admitted.
A sigh followed on the tail of his words. He hated saying those words aloud. Part of him felt weak for feeling the way that he did, and the other part was clinging to a shred of fear that Mello still harboured some resentment for him, and would think he was taking the privilege of L's role for granted. But Mello didn't seem angry in the slightest.
“Well, you're not supposed to work yourself into the ground,” he said. His hands shifted to Near’s back and he began running his nails up and down, feather light. “Take the night off. We're due for a date night anyway. It's been, what, a few months?”
Near shook his head. “L didn't take breaks.”
“You're not actually L, you know," Mello said. "It's just a title. You don't have to be like him 100% of the time.”
Near wanted to believe him so badly. He hadn’t taken a night off since before he and Mello moved in together, and even before that, date nights were often interrupted by a call from Watari or one of Near’s ex-employees with new evidence about a case. Near’s eyes fell back to his reflection again, now dotted with blonde streaks where Mello’s hair cradled Near’s shoulders from behind. It was a similar sight to his rubber ducks on the floor; specks of gold against boring white tile; the first dash of sunlight after a blizzard.
One of Mello’s hands snaked around to Near’s front and followed the curve of his face up to his eyes, tracing over the dark underlines that betrayed his horrible sleeping habits. Near’s eyelids fluttered closed.
“How about this,” Mello continued. “We’ll get something to eat, watch a movie, spend the night together, whatever you want. And tomorrow, I’ll help you out with the case.”
Near unconsciously leaned back into Mello’s touch. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he finally conceded. “That sounds nice.”
Mello gently encouraged Near to climb out of the bathtub again and Near obeyed this time, foot-shaped puddles forming on the bathmat as he waited for Mello to retrieve the towel from the rack. Mello helped him dry off first, from his hair down to his ankles, before taking care of his own dripping body. Near stood there, watching, trying to focus on anything other than his crippling guilt.
That guilt would always be a nagging presence in his mind. He would always feel as though he wasn't doing enough; as though whenever he paused to eat or sleep, he should be working, or at least thinking about work, and that pressure had become a constant burden he had to bear.
But with Mello by his side, Near's shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.