˚★⋆｡˚⋆Late midnight calls.
W/C: 2.5K
Summary: So what if your boss is awful? What if he uses you? That's not true at all, Mello's not as bad as everyone says he is, right?
Go back to masterlist: Here
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, and just for a second weapons, suggestive, mistreat, mild angst, no comfort.
✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮⭒✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮
2:43 A.M.
The green light coming from your clock was starting to piss you off, you hadn’t been able to sleep lately, even though work had been exhausting, missions were almost always practically resulting in chaos and persecutions, and your boss hadn’t stop being a jerk.
It’s not that Mello was quite literally a bad person, sure, his moral compass was a bit off center, but he wasn’t a villain, that wasn’t what troubled you. What troubled you was his double intentions with you. When anyone else was around, he acted just as what he was, a leader, yet, when moon came down, more likely around midnights, he called you, messaged you, whatever.
And now you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
It all started a few months ago, he told you that he wanted to see you, demanded for you to come to his place, it wasn’t something you had seen coming, and still, reluctantly, you did, you couldn’t get fired, not from this job.
When you arrived, you knocked his door, not knowing what to exactly expect, being requested at this time could only mean one thing, you hoped it wasn’t what your brain had been overthinking. A few minutes passed before you could even hear a noise, did you knock the right house?
But then, he opened it, you were welcomed by a sight of vulnerability, or something close to that, his blonde locks were slightly messy, his clothing was the same, only his vest being opened up.
His eyes stared at you; he regretted this already; you better not talk about this later. Without warning, he took your hand and dragged you inside, not even giving you a chance to speak, he didn’t want unnecessary speech or to do an explanation.
You yelped in surprise, you didn’t exactly know him, but it was unlikely to not even say hi, and smelled like alcohol, had he been drinking? That could explain the call. Maybe you were being a creep by analyzing such small details.
Once inside, you were greeted by the smell of cigarettes, and chocolate, the latter was similar to Mello’s own scent. You didn’t want to intrude or come out as noisy, it was only curiosity, his floor was made out of dark oak, he had nice furniture, two couches with a coffee table, and a TV, you assumed the other room was his kitchen.
He stopped walking, not minding your inspection, he noticed it instantly anyways.
—…Sit. I’ll bring you water.
You nodded, not daring to disobey in any manner, tension filled your muscles, and even your bones, huh, you didn’t know they could feel like that. Sitting in the most awkward way you had imagined, you waited.
He didn’t imagine you’d actually reply. He didn’t even know what to do now, of course, he had told you to come with an idea in mind, but actually doing it was completely different, it was late, why where you up? Had he awakened you? That didn’t really matter.
You could have said no, though. Ignoring the fact that he was your boss and what control implied on his words.
He hated himself, he had done that since always, but this time he did so even more, you had nothing to do with his issues. Yet he had already thought of this situation, just never acted on it.
Would asking you to “sleep” with him be too direct? Of course it would be.
His head was spinning, he’d kill Matt later for that, drinking had never been a strong spot, hell, he was even more able to manage smoking a whole pack of cigarettes than just one shot; he’d probably wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t because of how his body was feeling and his mind; specifically, the latter.
This was your fault as well, if you weren’t so…
What a distasteful thought he just had, he wouldn’t be asking for your presence each time he had a moment alone.
Filling the glass, he returned to the living room, leaving you for hours wouldn’t do.
You looked up at him, with what he recognized was fear, he didn’t like that. There was nothing to be afraid of, partially.
Offering the object, you grazed your fingers with his as you grabbed it, slightly shaking.
—…T-thanks.
He scoffed at your tone, in a way that sounded like he was judging your guts, he kind of was.
—Why did you respond? It’s late already.
—I… Uh… I was awake, and, when I was hired, I was told your calls were in top priority, so um, it sounded logical to come.
He rolled his eyes at that, of course you would’ve said that, you were so stupidly obedient, it came off handy most of the time, but right now it was messing with his nerves, you hadn’t done anything wrong, actually, he was just in a mood.
You two had never really had a moment alone. Sure, he knew you for a while already, at least two years, and well, missions had been there, times where you two were at the back of a car while Matt drove, you made sure to be alert of any possible danger; you were almost a trio with him and his friend, not quite, but similar, yet an intimate moment? Not even once.
He sat without restrain on the opposite side of the couch, his cheeks were warm, alcohol was still running through his veins, it made him feel stupid, he hated feeling stupid, he hated feeling.
—…Why… Why did you call me?
You hoped his answer wouldn’t be what you thought, you didn’t think he was the kind of person to just call a coworker out of nowhere just because, but… you had never seen him in such way that he’d have other intentions.
—…
Nothing.
You tensed again, deciding you wouldn’t get any context, you took a sip from your glass, not without doubting about the contents first, fuck it, even if you noticed there was something, he’d probably get away with it anyway, better do it like this.
Telling you to go back home would be a waste both of your time and his. He didn’t like losing time, or opportunities.
—Stress, that’s why.
Bad start. That’s it.
—So…
The pause between your words was awfully awkward.
—You called me because you want to uh, blow off some steam?...
You came off far more direct than you would’ve preferred.
He hummed, leaning on his palm as he looked at you with suspicious, usually he’d have that position, but with a smirk on his face, not this time, he only had a subtle smile, filled with a mild amusement.
You were in no state to disagree.
What happened after that became somewhat blurry, or more likely, you just didn’t want to remember any of it, it only made you feel even shittier. But it hadn’t got out of your mind, hell, you were practically begging each night to get a message from him.
It’s just, the way he had treated you, keeping control of the situation, without saying anything that came out as aggressive, his words just sounded demanding, as instructions you couldn’t dare to ignore.
He shut you mid-way into it. Not fully, only a hand gripping your throat, getting track of your pulse.
The mere thought got your face turn into a reddening mess.
But all of that only happened inside four walls, there was no more to your relationship than you being a relaxing toy for him to play with. You knew he was using you, but you couldn’t admit so, it didn’t feel like so.
He could’ve messed with anyone else, someone prettier than you, hell, you didn’t even know why you were the one he decided to hook up with, there was nothing remarkable on yourself, you were average at best.
The bell notification got you out of your trance, as you looked at it, it was Mello. A smile creeped into your face, you probably looked pathetic watched from afar, like a dog wagging its tail to their owner
You don’t know when or how it happened, but those late-night meetings had become something to you (even if he was intoxicated in most of them), he had gotten a way into your heart, there was no exact moment that caused it, it just started existing.
The message was simple: I need to see you.
He had gotten a sense of confidence with you, and silenced the soft voice that had some ethics, he knew that anytime if he needed so, he only had to say a few words and you’d be there, willing to help.
You stood up faster than what you would do with a simple alarm.
So now, once again, you found yourself laying on his mattress, letting him bite your neck while kneading the skin around your hips, you felt soft. There was no need to say much, you just let yourself play with his hair, it was like silk, the action comforted you when he was harsh, which was most of the time.
You avoided talking about your situationship, not ready to put some end to it, but the way you always admired him, said a lot more than some sentences. You always stared at his scar, he had it since you met him, never spoke about it, you wondered if he was sensible to the touch, or how it got there.
You actually felt bold for the first time ever, and actually caressed it, finger sliding through the skin, gently as if it would get worse if you place too much pressure, big mistake, he immediately stiffened and bit you down harder, almost piercing your skin.
—Don’t.
That was new. He looked up at you when saying so, almost frowning, or at least that’s what you thought, the darkness made it harder to distinguish. The subtle ache on your neck made you flinch, but didn’t gave it another reaction.
He continued as usual, didn’t mind talking about it or acknowledging it, again, you had nothing to do with his issues, and that would stay the same.
If he had it was his fault, a constant reminder of not trying enough, of not being enough. He could’ve prevented that accident, he could’ve been the owner of the notebook, there wouldn’t be any way to know he was even if someone had the eyes, there was no photo of him anywhere, Near had returned it, and assured him there was no more copies.
No, that would’ve been another mistake, it would’ve been a risk, one that could’ve ended even worse, he didn’t understand completely how did the Shinigami world or rules functioned.
…His mind had other things to deal with as well.
Tomorrow there’d be an important assignment, one that could mean either if he could get out of this rabbit hole he had messed with years ago, or stay in it, that wouldn’t be as easy as saying.
His childhood was somehow worse than being in the mafia. The constant comparison, competition, all his insecurities came from there, his actual motivations… Not even all the spite he held for Near could fulfill that pit in his heart, he didn’t… Did you know how it felt to be miserable? How had world treated you when you were young?
Asking you was out of place but, surely you should’ve had something, there was no way you were just as obedient as you were just because.
—Um… Mello?
He almost forgot you were there, that he was supposed to do something with you rather than just stare mindlessly into the void and keep still, he hadn’t moved since you touched him. It hadn’t stop being difficult to control his body while being in this state, his mind could only work on one thing at a time.
He returned to the action, lowering his face just for a fraction of second, then tilting it in an unsettling angle, lapping his tongue against your jaw. You tasted like nothing, one would think your skin would keep a salty flavor, but it was simple, just like water. Did you shower before coming to him?
Even if it felt nice, you knew there was something off, Had you really messed up that badly he zoned out? What were you thinking?
You didn’t… want, to push him away, but you didn’t feel in the mood anymore.
And it seemed like he didn’t feel like it neither.
He sat on your lap, keeping his hands on your chest as if keeping you in place, his mouth pressing and forming a straight simple line, a long exhale escaping from it. The way you stared up at him didn’t help at all.
…
Both of you were sitting on his bed now, fully dressed as you hugged your knees. He hadn’t told you anything else after getting off from you, you didn’t mention leaving, and he hadn’t offered so.
You hated that he smelled so much like wine right now, why couldn’t he smell like something that reminded you of anything sweeter, calmer? Why did he only call you when he was like this?
He must be mocking you, telling you how much of an idiot you are for thinking that perhaps all of this could mean he actually didn’t mind your company, he hadn’t been fully sober in any of these.
But right now, oh, he was almost about to drink more, his brain had decided that today he wouldn’t stop thinking about his past, about the future, about you, and he was starting to lose the effect.
You had always held this gentle attitude with him, no matter if he was being a jerk or not, you were patient, waited for instructions. In fact, you don’t have to be in his house right now, or in any time, you being here was a clear example of it.
Sometimes it helped, to be treated with kindness, some others frustrated him, he was no fragile glass that would shatter at slightest motion. Him actually thinking about his attitude meant accepting them, or at least not denying them, he had raised his voice at you more times than what he would’ve preferred.
Or pushed you when you were on his way, give you a weapon in a very harsh way, treated you as some sort of assistant instead of a backup. Insult you multiple times, only because wasn’t going the way he had planned, a list of his poor way of treating you could go on and on.
—…You should go.
—…?
You turned your head to face him, eyes wide open, opposite to your past half lidded ones, it was late, he couldn’t blame you for being sleepy.
—…I don’t think this is working in any way.
Ouch.
—Wha- what?
He scoffed, anger getting to his brain, but not because of you, just… in general.
—Was this b-because I touched you? I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!
You were starting to panic, why? It’s just like you wanted the first time; he was just letting you go without having to involve any further.
—…It’s not that. Just… leave.
…
The door was opened; he hadn’t locked it. You sighed, not knowing what the hell did leaving mean to him, if it meant something. But you did, following his wish, it’s not a big deal, you told yourself.
A/N: Hello! I'm sorry for the delay, but I made it slightly longer than my usual I suppose? Anyways, I have an issue, I always write and up wanting to do something more detailed and great and ughhh, I don't know if I should make a part two or just leave the "angst" as it is. Weirdly enough, I dont feel like this one says much, just pretty filled with dumb small stuff. ANYWAYSSSS, love you, drink your foods, eat your drinks, sleep well!
—Michii!
