Fic: Collection Day, Death Note, for Lelek
Title: Collection Day Author: daisy_chan Recipient: Lelek Fandom: Death Note Pairing: Mello/Matt Rating: PG-13 Summary: Just because Mello's side is always the losing one doesn't mean Matt is any less anxious to be back on it. Author's note: Thank you to my beta fantomfox <3
When Mello appeared in his quirky electronics shop, tucked away in a dirty German street, Matt almost pretended to be surprised, but decided it was too much effort.
Mello's pattern was one of rash action that yielded crisp, temporary results that would inevitably be reversed back on themselves while Mello preened and gloated, like the immature, attention craving child he most certainly still was. It was an algorithm that guaranteed long term failure if not combined with a restricting constant. Near, Mello had told him the night he left, had offered to work with him, to use his contrasting skill like another tool on his belt. Mello would have rather die trying on his own than be a weapon used at Near's discretion.
That choice had left a nasty scar that looked as though a bucket of Near's crayons had melted down Mello's face.
It was as Mello had once said on the Wammy House playground many years ago, right before he hurled another dodge ball at Matt's head. Payback was a bitch.
Matt didn't find any of it entirely unappealing, no matter how predictable it may have been.
And so when Mello strode over to lean against a shelf of RAM and propped a combat boot on a glass case of motherboards, Matt only acknowledged him with a nod of recognition, colder than he felt, and returned to sort out the redundancies in the code Tashimaori-san sent him. He could finish his freelance work tonight and make enough to fly them both to Japan tomorrow.
But Mello probably already knew that.
For once, Matt had Mello on that ropes, was needed by Mello, and he wasn't about to rush past the delicious thrill churning in his stomach. Matt hadn't exactly been Hachi waiting loyally for his master to return, but he hadn't been negligent either. It may not be the L.A. mob harem that Mello had sported until he'd gotten them all blown up, but sleeping his way through the German secret police had gifted Matt with a skill set that didn't exactly start and end with sharp shooting and wiretapping. By the time Mello finished hearing about all the new toys Matt had acquired over the years, Mello would be the one in need of a cigarette.
Mello's eyes flickered between him and the door, the fur lining of his hood close around his face. The low lighting and lateness of the day were casting shadows of change across the planes of Mello's body—jaw line sharper, eyes keener. There was nothing vulnerable about him now, not broken or set back like many would expect, but he was watchful and durable. Failure had made Mello weary, now that he had tasted how truly capable Kira could be.
It had made him ready, and that in itself was enough to make Matt pause.
"Coming?"
Matt could milk it, make Mello beg or pay or bleed for it.
He closed his laptop and picked up the bag he'd tucked away long ago, the one he walked past every morning, wondering if this was finally the day he'd use it.