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Matt was awakened by the sound of something tumbling down on his bathroom's tile floor — followed by a hushed and annoyed curse. He blinked softly, his vision still blurry and hindered by the strands of red hair falling in front of his eyes and brushing his nose. A hazy, alcohol-laden memory from the night before flashed in his mind.
Slender fingers playing with his fringe. Icy blue eyes sparkling with mirth, lazily half-closed.
"When are you going to get a haircut?"
A warm laugh, ending in a pitch slightly too high. Cheeks tinged with pink.
"You can't always hide from me."
Plump lips, glossy from the rum.
Matt abruptly sat up in his bed, eyes wide and heart pounding. The bedsheet fell on his lap, exposing his bare torso to the chilly morning air. He ignored the growing goosebumps on his skin as he stroked the empty space next to him on the mattress.
Already cold. His stomach sank.
Another soft noise, coming from the living-room this time, caught his attention. He hurriedly got up, picking up a pair of sweats and a hoodie from where they laid on the floor and quickly put them on, walking toward the bedroom door all the while and tripping on the way.
His head emerged from the collar of his hoodie at the same time he entered the living-room, his mouth falling slightly open as he came face-to-face with his lover.
Mello froze, his arm inside the travel bag he was organizing, and for one second he looked like a deer caught in headlights, panic in his eyes — but before Matt could fully understand it, the look was gone, and Mello resumed folding his clothes and tucking them into his bag, his usual indifferent expression back on his face.
"Oh, you're up." He said nonchalantly, pointedly not looking at Matt.
"Yeah."
Matt could feel himself breathe again, and his heartbeat calming down as he took in the sight of Mello — already fully dressed in a sweater and tight black jeans, golden blond hair in a ponytail, bag halfway packed — but here, still here.
Mello was still here.
Matt smiled softly.
"Coffee?"
Mello's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I have to go soon. My plane leaves in two hours."
Matt's smile became tighter.
"Right." Then with a grin, he continued. "I'll make us two mugs quickly then."
Mello sighed, but didn't argue.
Matt walked to the kitchen, starting up the coffee machine and taking two mugs and a bag of coffee out of the cabinet. As he waited for the water to boil, he leaned against the counter in front of the window, his gaze getting lost in the New York rain which was coating a gray blur over the buildings.
Behind him, he could hear Mello moving around in the apartment, still packing his bag, now less careful about his noise level. Sunday had finally come, and Mello was leaving again. He would come back. Probably.
It had become their routine ever since they had met at a bar just a few blocks away from Matt's apartment. Mello had been in New York on a business trip, and Matt had just finished a job. Both had been at the bar in hopes of releasing some pressure with the help of alcohol — and maybe some carefree company. They had hit it off almost immediately, sharing life anecdotes and laughter and shots late into the night. They had finally gone back to Matt's apartment, but hadn't had sex that night — a surprise for both of them. The night had ended on a bittersweet note, with whispered life stories and a chaste but tender kiss. Mello had stayed two days at Matt's apartment, and a genuine friendship had been born then. Matt hadn't felt so comfortable with someone since... ever, really. Then Sunday had come, as it always does, and Mello had gone back to Los Angeles. He had said he would text Matt the next time he was in New York, and Matt had been pretty confident about it at first.
He hadn't received any news from Mello for three months.
Matt had tried texting him a couple of times, but to no avail, his messages staying simply delivered. Just as he was finally resolving to forget about the impossibly smart, full of dry humor, sinfully sexy, blond man who had pulled him out of the haze of his depression for the first time in years, Matt had received a text from him — and one hour later, Mello had been at his front door.
This time, Mello hadn't wasted any minute on pleasantries, jumping on Matt as soon as he had opened the door and attaching himself to his lips. If Matt had been curious about the desperate look in his eyes, he had had no objection to the direction Mello was leading him in, and they had spent the entire evening having sex, until Mello finally seemed calmer.
That was two years ago.
Every few months, Matt would get a text from Mello saying he would arrive in New York the next day — or sometimes even the same day. Mello would stay for about a week, and the days spent together would be perfect. They would go to the movies, to Central Park, to music shows, and some nights they would just stay at Matt's apartment and drink while playing games or watching TV, and they would always, always end up having sex and it would always, always be the best sex of Matt's life.
Then Mello would have to go back to Los Angeles for his very important job — definitely something illegal, not that Matt cared, his wasn't any better — and Matt would basically lose him until the next time they met up. Mello had gotten better at giving news though: every few weeks, Matt would get a short text, just letting him know that Mello was indeed still alive. And that was it, until Mello was back at his front door, and then it started all over again.
It was good. It was fine. It was enough. It had to be enough.
It was driving Matt fucking crazy.
He couldn't ask for more. It wasn't as if they were in a relationship. This was more of a "friends with benefits" kind of deal. Casual friends. One-week-every-three-months friends. You-complete-me-and-I-only-feel-alive-when-you're-with-me friends. With mind-blowing benefits that left his throat feeling raw and his body covered in hickeys. All for the low, low price of three months of deep depression and violent withdrawal symptoms, four times a year. So really, the best of deals.
But Matt knew that was all he would get from Mello. He had long since admitted his own feelings to himself, it was painfully obvious how madly in love he was. How Mello kept not noticing it however, was a mystery. Or maybe he purposefully ignored it. In any case, that was a clue in itself, and Matt knew his feelings weren't requited.
It wasn't as if Matt made extreme efforts to hide them. It was rather the opposite, as he regularly proclaimed his love to Mello. Just last night, when they had gone to the restaurant and Mello had said he was paying, Matt had exclaimed with a grin: "Awww thanks Mels! Love ya!", to which Mello had simply rolled his eyes. That was his usual reaction to Matt's "love ya's", and in Matt's opinion, that didn't bode well for any serious confession he could have been tempted to make.
They would stay friends with benefits. He would take whatever Mello would give him, whenever he would give him something. And it would eventually be fine.
The coffee machine beeped just as Mello zipped his bag closed, both sounds pulling Matt out of his thoughts. He retrieved the two steaming mugs and made his way back to the living-room, where he found Mello intensely looking around with a frown on his face, probably checking that he hadn't forgotten any of his stuff.
"Here." Matt held out one mug right under Mello's nose. His eyebrows rose up at the sudden proximity — both Matt's and the coffee's — and he took a step back before taking the mug in his hands, nodding as a thanks.
Matt's lips stretched in half a smile. He knew Mello would never be properly awake without coffee, and last night's rum certainly didn't help either. Matt needed the caffeine as well if he was going to be up at 7AM on a Sunday. He slipped a hand under his hoodie to scratch at his stomach as he took a big sip of coffee. The mug obstructed his vision, making him miss how Mello's eyes followed the path of his fingers, the hoodie riding up and exposing bite-marked skin.
His hand next moved to his mouth to hide a yawn, and Mello quickly averted his gaze to the side.
"What time do you land?"
"A bit after 5PM."
"Right."
Awkwardness lingered in the air, as it often did on such mornings. Mello softly blew on his mug before taking a small sip of coffee. He immediately grimaced.
"What the fuck?!" He glared at his drink as if it had insulted him. "How does it taste even worse than yesterday?"
Matt laughed, a real, full-belly laugh.
"Just opened a brand new bag of coffee. That one was sixty percent off: definitely the cheapest one at the store."
Mello directed his death glare to Matt. Its effect was slightly diminished by his disgusted pout.
"How can you live like this?"
Matt wiped a tear from his eye, grinning.
"Tastes fine to me. And the caffeine works."
Mello closed his eyes and shook his head, the pout still not leaving his face.
"Unbelievable. You're lucky I love you."
Three things happened simultaneously: Matt felt his teeth grinding together in shock; Mello's eyes widened to a degree that shouldn't have been humanly possible; and also, Matt was pretty sure that the coffee was somehow spiked with hallucinogenics (it would explain the discount), or this was the ultimate proof that he was living in a simulation, or maybe Mello did kill him because of his shitty coffee and now he was dead and was being tested.
Or maybe none of these options were correct, considering Mello was staring at him with both terror and expectancy, as if he was hoping this was a nightmare and he was going to wake up any second from now.
"Huh?" Matt helpfully supplied. His muscles were starting to hurt from his frozen grin, which was probably permanently stuck on his face by now.
Mello's face turned crimson, his pale skin betraying all of his embarrassment, and he violently hit his own mouth with his fist, looking very much like he wanted to punch himself in the face. He swiftly turned his back to Matt.
That was the last piece of evidence that Matt needed to be convinced that the world was somehow broken, because whatever this all was, it wasn't Mello.
"Mello? What was that?"
He was only met with silence.
Unless this was Mello after all. Maybe it was a side of himself that Mello would have liked to keep under wraps for much longer. Unfortunately for him, Matt had always been curious, and when the topic was Mello, his hunger for knowledge was simply insatiable.
It didn't mean he couldn't be considerate. At least, as much as he could be while working through his own shock.
"Mels? Talk to me." He tried again, gently coaxing him to turn around by putting a hand on his arm.
Mello turned halfway back toward Matt, who noticed his face had returned to a more normal color, his cheekbones still dusted with a bright pink. But the fear was striking in his light blue eyes, and that caused a painful pang in Matt's heart.
"That's... not important. I have to go. I can't miss my plane."
Mello's voice was shaky, as were his hands as he set his mug down on the coffee table. Baffled, Matt watched him quickly pick up his coat and bag from the couch.
Fuck that plane. He was not letting him leave like this.
"Mello!"
He set down his own mug and ran after him as Mello hurriedly made his way toward the front door. Matt hit the door with both palms, stopping him from opening it, and trapping him against it. Mello turned around in his arms, eyes shining with tears, and mouth twisting in pain and discomfort.
"Matt. I can't do this right now. Please."
The pang came back in Matt's heart, even more painful than before. He had told himself that he would only take what Mello was willing to give him, when Mello wanted to. And here he was, doing the exact opposite. The urgency to know precisely what Mello had meant by those three words was screaming at him to keep him there, but he had to swallow it back. He couldn't risk scaring him off for good.
He let his head fall on Mello's shoulder, feeling him freeze at the contact. He would wait until Mello was ready. What was a little more wait, after all?
"Okay, okay. You have a plane to catch. I get it. Don't cry."
"Not crying." Mello's voice sounded more dejected than annoyed.
Matt lifted his head again, smiling softly as their eyes met. Mello was still looking at him cautiously. He had to fix that.
One hand moving to cup the side of Mello's face, he leaned in and pulled him into a deep, loving kiss, trying to put all of his care and affection into the caresses of his lips and tongue. Mello seemed to understand, earnestly replying, one hand gripping onto Matt's hoodie. When they broke the kiss, Matt kept his face close to Mello's, wanting to keep sharing his breath as he delicately pushed back a lock of blond hair behind his ear.
Mello gave him a soft smile. That was much better.
"Want me to drive you to the airport?" Matt asked even though he already knew the answer.
Mello closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.
"No. It would make it harder."
Matt's eyebrows rose up slightly. So that was why Mello always refused. He took a step back, finally letting his arms drop back at his sides and freeing Mello. He smiled, pretending his heart wasn't being ripped in two.
"Alright. See you next time, then."
Mello put one hand on the door handle and paused. He carefully took Matt's hand with his own, before locking eyes with him.
"I'll come back. Promise. In not too long."
Matt grinned, his thumb stroking the back of Mello's hand. For the first time, he wasn't scared to watch him leave. Mello had promised.