#so long red hair (gay bowser)

[donexmiras]

All of the questions for the ask game you reblogged

Putting under a cut for being long

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

Bowser my beloved (couldn't find the original)

🍫 Cheese or chocolate? Chocolate, cheese can sometimes just be straight up gross to me

✨ Do you have any nicknames? I have a few, Kuvvy is the one who started calling me Momo, but my coworkers call me Bluey or Blues clues

🎵 Last song you listened to? Happier in Hell by Royal and The Serpent

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction? I've tried, I love roleplaying at least, but I have absolutely zero confidence in my writing so

😏 Are you on discord? Yeah, I'm honestly on there a ton more than I'm on here nowadays, I just can't engage with groups much (I don't have much to say)

💛 Do you have any piercings? Used to have my ears pierced but they closed up, but I do have my septum done and I have snakebites with plans for plenty more later down the line

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person? I honestly can't give a straight answer, I just like people who are chill and don't give me an irritated response when they don't understand something right away

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be? Chocolate chip, I'm basic as fuck

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person? Cat, I've had dogs, but I've never bonded with them as strongly

🎧 Headphones or earbuds? Headphones a million times over, I can't stand earbuds

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud? "Have a good one!" (Was leaving work)

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know? Maybe not a weird one, but gators can run

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl? I'm a night owl who's been conditioned to be a morning person

🧸 Favorite place to nap? My bed 💙

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community? I've identified as genderfluid for a long time, but within the last year that's changed to being a trans man, and a hella gay one at that ✨🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈 (I still use they/them though, but I don't like when people use it just to avoid calling me he/him)

🦋 Describe yourself in three words. Tired, stubborn, niceys

👖 Jeans or sweatpants? Jeans for outside, sweatpants for inside

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order? Not a Starbucks fan, there's this cafe though I like to order from that has nice ice lattes, I usually get it with caramel cold foam and a few pumps of brown sugar

🧡 A color you can’t stand? Doo doo green

💎 What’s your most prized possession? My laptop, it's been with me for a decade now, it occasionally has its problems but we're ride or die at this point

☕ Coffee or tea? Coffee, though I've been much less obsessed with it nowadays

🦖 Favorite extinct animal? Not dinosaur wise, passenger pigeons, just something about them, otherwise therizinosaurus

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr? Too long (legit answer though probably 5-6 years with an account)

🌴 Desert island item? Cast iron pan, it's multipurpose

🐸 Describe your aesthetic. Spikes, black with bold colors (usually blue and gold), romantic goth in theory, soft boy in practice

🔮 What’s your dream job? Animator, in depth though probably more of a keyframer or storyboard artist

💙 Relationship status? Yoinked

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit. The one I generally wear everyday is usually just a black hoodie and blue jeans with sneakers

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to? Hm that's a hard one, but I do know the lyrics to Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus pretty well

🤎 What color is your hair? Currently it's plain ol brown right now since I shaved it again, but I do plan to dye it black again eventually

💌 Do you talk to yourself? I was talking to myself this morning XD it helps me regulate my thoughts more clearly, and helps me vent without the anxiety of oversharing

💄 Do you wear makeup? I used to, but I can't even stand eye makeup on me anymore, so I just go bare face

🌸 Best compliment you ever received? That I am speed, move aside sonic 💅 but also being complimented on my name

💞 @ your favorite blog. This is hella bias cause we talk all the time but @kuvvydraws

[haemosexuality]

every time i change my hair color i need to update my picrews

(ravtawn-pepperjackets-fuzzmeffa-extraA)

[sternenteile]

★*･ questions addressed to your muse.

▌What is your real name?  

❝ you’re gonna wanna stick with geno. trust me. ❞

▌What is your /real/ name?

❝ ... heh. okay, you asked for it. ♡♪!?. can’t say i didn’t warn you, so don’t give me that look! ❞

▌Do you know why you were called that?

❝ i think... that merle believed i was something special. no, he knew i was, that something else was written in the stars for me. it’s really cheesy, but it’s why he decided to go with ancient star language for my name instead of a regular english name. that language isn’t really used much in the modern day, not even by my own elders, so, uh... they tend to just call me starlight. i try to convince them to call me geno, but... that’s... kind of a long story. ❞

▌Are you single or taken?

❝ hah! wouldn’t you like to know? ❞

▌Have any abilities or powers?

❝ oh, plenty! i’ve got a whole eye full. ever seen those transforming toys that can turn into cars and stuff? well, this guy can turn into a cannon. i’ve got a lot more up my sleeve than that, but nothing beats the looks i get when i transform. it’s priceless. ❞

▌What’s your eye colour?

❝ kind of a... burgundy? maroon? let’s just go with dark red instead of getting all fancy. ❞

▌How about your hair colour?

❝ i, uh... don’t normally have any! the doll’s got ginger hair. it’s kind of more like ribbons, but... you know. it’s close enough. ❞

▌Have you any family members?

❝ heheheh. what would you say if i told you i have thousands and thousands of siblings? ... make that face, i guess! hahahahaha!! i’ve also got my mother. needless to say, she’s always got her hands full! ❞

▌Oh? What about pets?

❝ okay, luigi’s awesome. he gave me this light blue yoshi egg, and ever since it hatched, i’ve been tending to the little guy ‘til he’s ready to leave the nest. his name is boötes after a constellation. he’s kinda chubby and drools a lot, but he’s my round puddle of drool. ❞

▌That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me about something you don’t like.

❝ thinking about things i don’t like. how’s that? ... hey, that totally counts! ❞

▌Do you have any hobbies/activities you like to do?

❝ uh... geez. gaming? playing with my friends? reading? sparring? doing things on my phone? i’m on, like, video 789 of 1000 on this bunny playlist on beantube. i’m making good progress. ❞

▌Ever hurt anyone before?

❝ yeah. it’s kind of part of my job. ❞

▌Ever killed anyone before?

❝ ... it’s —— part of the job, too. ❞

▌What kind of animal are you?

❝ stars are animals now? i mean... i guess it’s better than being called confetti by your huge, hulking koopa king friend. what’s that? passive-aggression? never heard of it. is that some kind of cereal or something? ❞ ;)

▌Name some of your worst habits.

❝ not... sure why you want to know that. i guess sometimes, i get a bit too gluttonous for my own good, but it’s not like i have a ‘figure’ to keep up or anything. we stars use all of the energy we can get, so it’s more of a benefit. depriving other people of food isn’t a good thing, though. people need it more than i do. ❞

▌Do you look up to anyone at all?

❝ my mother and mario are two people i can’t help but admire. her excellence —— my only real guardian —— is just... incredible in every single way. she’s nurturing and kind, but she also knows how to have fun. she knows how important freedom is, and she looks at every star like an individual. i don’t know how she manages to take care of all of us day-by-day... but it has to take a lot of patience and gumption.

❝ as for mario... he’s just the most human guy i know. he’s got his flaws, sure, but while most people see that as a detractor, i think that’s great. he isn’t just a perfect goody-two-shoes like people seem to think he is. he’s got a heck of a temper and a sharp tongue to boot. he can be kinda bull-headed and do some stupid stuff, too... but that’s not to say he’s dumb. he just lets his bravery get to his head, you know? he’s so humble, though, and so kind. i, heh... i could go on. ❞

▌Gay, straight, or bisexual?

❝ can’t say i’m any of that in particular? ❞

▌Do you go to school?

❝ stars don’t need to go to school, actually! we’re very intelligent beings and are kind of... born with a lot of innate knowledge. on top of that, we get guidance from our elders, meaning they’re... i guess you could call them like our ‘teachers’ to begin with? it’s a constant thing. ❞

▌Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

❝ uh... h-heheh... pass? ❞

▌Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

❝ bowser is my biggest fan. hey, it’s true. don’t let him convince you otherwise! ❞

▌What are you most afraid of?

❝ ... i’m... gonna have to pass on that one. too personal. ❞

▌What do you usually wear?

❝ i usually stick with the doll’s clothes and wash them every morning, but i like to change it up sometimes. i have different kinds of capes, jackets, sweaters... and even a dress or two. sometimes, i just feel like shaking things up. ❞

▌Do you love someone?

❝ h- haha... private. ❞

▌When was the last time you wet yourself?

❝ ew. can we not? stars don’t even do that. ❞

▌What class are you?

❝ depends on your definition of class? if you’re meaning some kind of caste system, pretty much all of us stars are working class except for the higher star spirits, of which there are seven. some are entrusted with more than others, but... that’s about it. ❞

▌How many friends do you have?

❝ plenty of casual friends with a few very good ones! i would protect them all with my life. ❞

▌What are your thoughts on pie?

❝ which one? are you asking because you have a little somethin’-somethin’ for me? ... no? aw. well, i like all kinds of pies, just saying. ❞

▌Favourite drink?

❝ soda. it’s literally like liquid candy that fizzes. i can’t not. ❞

▌What’s your favourite place?

❝ here. this planet, this is my home. ❞

▌Are you into someone~?

❝ didn’t you already ask something like this? geez... ❞

▌Would you rather swim in the lake or in the ocean?

❝ i can’t swim at all, so... how about swimming in a sea of blankets? that sounds more my style. ❞

▌What’s your type?

❝ type of what? what are you even talking about? ❞

▌Camping or indoors?

❝ either has its advantages. i’m cool with both! ❞

...

❝ sooooo. do i get some of that pie now or what? ❞

tagged by:  no one i stole this like a lil snot tagging:  @masterprotector @burstbombbitch @bowserful @regionalcoins @hecried @nakotnes and! idk! you!!

[frenksdrawings]

Commission: Mr Mario’s Dragon Maid 1996: So long gay Bowser! 2018: I’m gay(?) for Bowser! The costumer wants a Red haired version too Commissioned by @_KZN02

[awesomeisred]

Bowser TF/MC (Gay Pride Month)

The day started off like any other. People from across the world came to the city that morning, setting up tents around the surrounding park, and others sitting beside the curb of the streets in wait of the gay pride month parade to start. There were many wearing rainbow shirts all over, hugging, and befriending those who were apart of the LGBT community. Banners stood among the entrance of the city, welcoming the start of the parade, as millions of people were marching down its streets, and greeting those waiting for their arrival. It was fun and magnificent for those who were brave enough to show off their pride. However, some that were amongst the crowd was not pleased. Drew was a young man around his early twenty's, with slick brown short hair, skinny frame, while wearing typical street clothes that morning. He was told by a few of his friends to come along to watch the parade, though Drew was straight. The idea of the gay community needing so much attention seemed pretty ridiculous to Drew. Most of the time, Drew often wondered why there wasn't a parade for all types of people, and not just to those who are considered special. His close friends and relatives would tell Drew that the gays dealt with more rejection than most. Thus, creating a holiday that allows safety. But Drew would ignore these claims. Drew became ignorant and grumpy to those who are interested in the same sex. "This is dumb," Drew mumbled, sitting at the curb of the street, watching people pass him by with gay signs, and rainbows to match. The young man eventually got up, dusting the dirt off of his clothes, and began pushing himself out of the crowd. He decided to go somewhere else in the city. Hopefully where there aren't too many people and more spacious than being packed full of people. However, as Drew was making his way out of the crowded street, he felt a small object hitting him in the neck, causing the young man to wince in pain. He reached for the tip of the object, pulling it out of his neck, and examining it in his hands. It was a dart, coated with rainbow colors around its base, and spilling out contents of what appeared to be colored liquid. Drew was pissed. The young man couldn't help rubbing his neck, turning his head in every direction in order to find the culprit that shot him with a dart. He decided to walk back into the crowd, making his way as Drew often jumped over people, trying his best to make out an individual holding a giant weapon. Meanwhile, his ass was exploding from the back of his pants, thickening as each one of his buttcheeks expanded, and began to bounce up and down. The people around Drew were surprised, watching the small mound growing bigger, smacking into those who were in Drews way, with some screaming as they noticed a tail protruding over his butt. With each turn of Drews body, his tail would wack into other people, causing them to fall, or trip as Drews skin was turning a hint of yellow. At one point, Drew stopped in his track, looking over to see the parade, as his shirt was tearing away off of his back. The crowd was now interested in what was happening with Drew, watching the torn fabric forming over Drews back, hardening, and expanding into a giant green shell. People gasped as they saw white spikes popping out, with a white rim while Drew was beginning to grow taller. Those around Drew were terrified by the once five-foot young man that was sporting over most of the crowd by seven feet. It was odd to see Drew growing what appeared to be fine lines of red chest fur, poking out of his shirt, that was shifting from the oversized stomach that was poking out of the bottom of his shirt. Drews shirt was pulled up around his chest, cracking as his pectoral muscles widened, and pressed against the material by Drews hardening nipples. The crowd can finally see the red chest fur climbing into Drews pants, also tearing away by his thickening hips, and bulge bursting out with a pair of purple speedos, as the young man began to dance. He often swayed his ass to the rhythm of the drums playing in the parade, unable to resist squeezing his ass with his hands that were enlargening, Drews nails lengthening into white claws that were as large as a tigers tooth. The torn pants were forming over Drew's wrists, hardening into strong black leather, with white spikes exploding outwards. The giant Drew whined, needing a good sized man to hump him dry, as his arms were stretching, and bulging with biceps surrounding his engulfed shoulder blades. Drew yelled, smashing the ground with his giant fists, creating cracks, and torn pieces of rubble to fly out, as the young man felt sudden pain over his face. Drew kept screaming, his mouth region stretching outwards, the tip of his mouth growing puffy, causing his nose to sink into two nostril holes, causing his mouth to widen, and his teeth to shoot out into white fangs. Drew roared with all of his might, peeling off his speedo down his waistline, sliding away from his reptilian yellow skin, as his one-foot dick dangling between his legs. It was beige colored like his mouth and stomach, with red pubic hair surrounding the giant membrane, as Drew began to stroke his cock. He felt his back shiver, leaning his head back to enjoy his manly dick, as his hair was fluffing into giant piles of red hair. Drew closed his eyes shut, his brown eyebrows consuming into the red hair, as cum was shooting from his dick. He made sure to aim his seed towards those walking in the parade, hoping at least a few of the guys would want to hook up with him afterward, as green reptilian skin consumed the second half of his face, with his ears protruding into two long white horns placed on top of his head. The mutated beast began to stomp his legs, causing his stream of cum to sway side to side, landing onto the crowd from the street across, as his legs were thickening into tree trunks. Both legs grew bulkier, as the beasts shoes were starting to shred, his toes sinking into his skin while gulping for the tightness to end. Eventually, his shoelaces bursted away from the torn fabric, with giant white claws tearing off the rest of the poor footwear, as his new feet were sweating. In fact, once the newly formed Bowser reopened his eyes, he grabbed the nearest guy beside him and stuffed his face into his armpits. The stranger gasped, surprised to be surrounded by fluffy red hairs, as he kept sniffing into the beasts sweaty pits. At one point, the stranger began to shake, his dick riding up against Bowser's body, as his clothes slipped off of him, and shrank down to a small koopaling. Everyone was in shock, watching the koopaling standing beside his master, and stroking his cock every so often. Bowser was about to rip off his shirt until he noticed he was wearing a black T-shirt with a rainbow printed. The king grinned, letting go of the oversized attire, and chuckled. "I command you, my minions, to cheer for the right to be free!"

[dressed-to-keehl]

Twenty Questions (DN fic)

Happy happy birthday to the amazing @themihaelkeehl <3 this one of a kind super rare gay has been in the world a whole year longer and tbh we should be thanking him for that. i love u stark, so i give to you all i have to offer: ANGST

MxM. One shot, post reunion. Just when you think you really know someone, they surprise you. If that person is particularly surprising, though, maybe that’s a sign you knew them all along. Matt and Mello never knew the hardest part would come after they found each other again. Ft. existential dread, light (also sad???) smut, the wrong way to clean out an ashtray, mario kart & the unbearable discomfort of relearning someone you used to love (and probably still do).

Touching reunions were great and all, but the last time Matt touched anyone it had been to steal their wallet.

I.

“Why did you go?”

It was four A.M. and Matt knew the answer to that question, not in words but intuition. In the silence that came after he felt the answer spell itself out in goosebumps on the back of his neck. It was the kind of question that could only be asked at four A.M., only when the other person was sleeping. Mello wasn’t- at the moment or in general. Matt was realising this later than he should have (which was when he saw Mello again for the first time and counted without deciding to do so all the ways in which Mello had changed).

“Go to sleep,” Mello ordered from the pull-out mattress he’d demanded he take. Matt had offered him the bed. He hadn’t hoped they’d share it but he remembered when he had. Hope, however abstract, hinted at some actual belief. It was hard to believe Mello could bend him over and fuck him when he couldn’t sleep with a bedsheet touching his skin.

It was the burn. When Matt looked at Mello for the first time in years he’d seen the desperation in his eyes and the dark circles beneath them, the gaunt meanness that hadn’t been there before. He had seen the burn but hadn’t looked at it. Hadn’t processed it. Couldn’t.

“It’s just- how is that fair,” Matt muttered, lips sticking to his pillow. His back was turned to Mello and he looked to the alarm clock glowing through the room. If he looked back at Mello he would see him silhouetted in red like he might have been in so many night clubs, so many back alleys Matt would never go to or know about. The clock read 4:01. “I looked for you forever and you knew where I was the whole time. How is it fair that you got to show up whenever the hell you felt like it?”

“Go to sleep,” Mello said again. But he didn’t, and Matt didn’t.

II.

“Since when the fuck do you smoke?” Mello asked, hovering unsteadily in the doorway to the kitchen.

Matt had prepared for breakfast: removed bowl from sink, put cereal inside, told himself this would all be okay despite the weight of his certainty that things rarely were. Hence the state of his kitchen- the mouse shit in the corners, the takeaway cup and the moment it had become an ashtray. Hence this cigarette and the few that had already come before it. He had bought Cocoa Puffs, though. Mello might have been thanking him for that and years other things- his patience, for one. 

But Matt didn’t want thanks. It had been years since he wanted anything at all.

“Thought you were a Catholic,” Matt said, dropping the cigarette in with all the others. It didn’t go out. “Since when did you become a Puritan?”

“I don’t mind,” Mello snapped, minding. “It was just a question.”

Matt looked at the ember still burning away in the cup, like the molten surface of a new planet or a very, very old one. Either just born or dying. “Is it the fire?”

“I said I don’t mind.”

Quickly, decisively, Matt poured what remained of the milk into the takeaway cup with a gurgle and a hiss.

“Fuck,” Mello gaped as the milk settled then turned grey. “Are you even going to throw that away?”

“Obviously,” Matt said, though it hadn’t been obvious at all. Mello would find worse in the place if he stayed long enough (and Matt hated thinking of Mello that way, as an if, but he’d forced himself to think that way for years now and he wasn’t about to undo all that progress).

(He had maybe five real skills and undoing progress was three of them).

Mello watched in horror as Matt chucked the thing, aimless and unlidded, into the bin without so much as a trash bag or a second look. But he let go of the doorframe and entered.

III.

Matt didn’t do much during the day but hack into savings accounts and masturbate, so he had a fair amount of time to teach Mello how to kick ass at Mario Kart.

Mello didn’t need to be taught much of anything, except sometimes A Lesson. But the silence was too much. It wasn’t that Mello was quiet. It’s that he was loud in all the wrong ways- banging around while he got ready (ready for what, Matt couldn’t determine, since he could barely walk around). Shouting obscenities whenever his flesh struck the most minute of obstacles. Putting on classical music while he took a shower just like back at Wammy’s. Fuck, breathing. But he didn’t say much. Matt didn’t say much either, but he figured he wasn’t the one who had to do all the explaining.

There were things that had changed about him over the years. One by one scars had accumulated, some long and thin, some raised and circular. He was an adult now, done with all the growing except aging. But sometimes he looked- really looked- at swaths of his bare skin for the first time in weeks. He saw the damage all at once and for all his stagnation, his sitting around in the quiet dark, he imagined himself changing shape. Sometimes after strung out nights he sat up to see his fisheye reflection in the old computer screen, face grey and shimmering like a mirage. He didn’t turn the computer on. He stared. When he could do anything he played video games. Working, talking, exercising: those were things people did to forget they were dying. Nothing else. Not to him.

Those were things he could not yet explain to himself.

“Second fucking place,” Mello grunted, tucking his knees beneath him as he leaned forward on the dingy couch. He chewed his lip and mashed the A button. P1 blinked in red on the screen. Matt was P2 underneath. The two of them again, rank and file. Listed in order. Festive music blared in the background and Mello smashed the button again.

“It’s not bad to be in second place for most of the race,” Matt said. “Mells. Wait a minute. You have to get to the scoreboards first- anyway. Sometimes it’s better to get there right at the end.”

“Yeah, only I didn’t.”

“Idiot, I mean you will.” Bowser’s Castle. The evil lair, the magma fire, the road laid out predetermined. A concrete and sudden ending. Matt felt cold. “I mean... when you’re in first place you don’t get any good items. And you’re a target. And there are some attacks that are only meant for you- blue shells. When you’re in second you can creep up without all those disadvantages. Sneak in.”

“Don’t get many items when you’re in second, either,” Mello said, and the countdown started. Mello had been ready the whole time and Matt was only just then leaning forward.

“But you get something,” Matt insisted, voice rising in panic before he had the chance to stop it. “And isn’t that...?”

3, 2, 1. Then there was only forward, only further away.

IV.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Matt asked when he found the bathroom redecorated with shards of glass, the mirror rearranged in gashes across the tile floor- and Mello, in the centre of it all, looking down with the lights turned off.

There was no answer, so he’d gotten his. He left Mello standing in the dark.

V.

The next time he approached Mello, it was with caution and a handle of Pinnacle Chocolate Vodka. Mello never went anywhere unarmed and Matt was learning that neither should he.

“Wasn’t it your favourite?” Matt asked, almost indignant.

“It was. When I was thirteen and we slept in bunk beds.”

“Bunk bed,” Matt said. “You refused to sleep on the top.”

“So did you,” Mello accused.

“Yeah, but you were assigned to the top. And instead...”

And instead of speaking Matt remembered why he so often didn’t. He remembered that and other things- Mello curled up with his hair falling over his eyes, mouth soft and breathing slow. Matt knew theoretically that Mello often shared his bed, but most nights at Wammy’s Mello was awake when Matt went to sleep. He was awake when Matt woke up. If he ever set an alarm Matt didn’t hear it. He was an alarm- loud and existing in a constant state of anticipation. And then Mello downed half a bottle of the trashiest vodka the local degenerates could buy them and Matt saw him calm. Matt saw him still. And sure he’d spent the whole night raking his hands through his hair, ranting about Near, speaking in some Slavic language Matt couldn’t identify through the molten accent of liquor. But now-

Matt had turned away, closed his eyes and felt Mello’s chest expand against his back and shrink away. It was too private a moment to witness even as he inhabited it. But he remembered the way Mello looked. And now-

“Let’s give this another go,” Mello said, scar tissue whitening on the neck of the bottle.

Hours passed. The bottle was half-empty and then gone, in a moment, like so many things had been. Mello, for starters. Gone before Matt ever noticed him leaving. And Matt had smoked fourteen cigarettes with his torso and arms all the way out the window and Mello had unlaced the leather pants he insisted on wearing even though he could barely make it from the kitchen to the mattress. And the Game Cube controller was ripped off its cord and Matt had discovered the reason he loved video games in the first place- that they were a competition like the ones he disliked so much in the real world but in a video game what you worked for, you got. If you solved the puzzle, you won. If you beat the level, you moved forward. In video games everything was correct and in this world the love of his life couldn’t sleep with the sheets over his arms or tell him the truth, apparently. Video games were fair.

And Matt, of course, was drunk.

“How’d you get involved with the mafia in the first place?” he asked, sliding the window shut behind him. “Mean- I understand we got a particular set of skills. Didn’t exactly run away from Winchester to snag a part time at a Starbucks. I get how you got involved with them. How'd they get involved with you?”

“Same way anything else happens,” Mello said, sighing back into the cushions. He threw his legs up over the armrest. Matt hoped it was a sign of comfort but suspected it had more to do with the liquor. “With persistence. And persuasion.”

“Persistence. Persuasion.” Matt threw himself down on the couch, watching Mello’s hair rustle with the slight disturbance. “That supposed to be an answer?”

“No.”

“What, then?”

Mello flopped his head down then, hair spilling onto Matt’s thighs. Matt sucked in a gasp, face going red- willing his body, or parts of it, not to do what it very well might. Touching reunions were great and all, but the last time Matt had touched anyone it had been the steal their wallet. He was not in control of any potential hard-ons any more than he was in control of the rest of his life. Given the circumstance, that was to say, not at all. Whiskey dick was real but chocolate vodka dick had never stopped anyone in a night club bathroom, and it wouldn’t here. So he held his breath and ignored the swelling warmth inside him until Mello breathed again.

It was a long sigh. Matt looked down; Mello was looking up. Not at him or at anyone else. Matt could see all the places the shrapnel had entered his face and his eyes were clear and smooth like sea glass- crushed into form by every breaking wave.

“All I’ve got,” Mello said simply.

And Matt went cold. ‘What did they make you do?”

VI.

“Do you like that?” Mello asked in a language Matt couldn’t comprehend.

All Matt knew now were shape and colour, pressure and temperature, his chin dragging back and forth across the blanket as he felt Mello inside him in a different way from usual. Less metaphor. More handcuffs. The saliva on his lips. Mello’s fingernails cutting into his hips and the metal clinking behind his back. Again. Again. Himself, grinding against the comforter in unconscious defiance.

Mello drew in closer then, fingernails digging in so hard Matt felt the skin split. When he thrusted he felt the sting, the cold of the handcuffs now smashed into his flesh and the heat of Mello’s body all up and down his own. Mello’s hair on the back of his neck. Then one hand let go and Mello was pulling on his wrists, on the handcuffs. Matt’s shoulders jerked back and he let out a cry of pain and of wonder. Mello was right there and he was falling into the warmth building inside him.

His shoulders drew further and further back until his body was shaking from the effort of the exertion, from the pain running up and down his arms and from Mello’s other hand, moving down to this thigh and squeezing til the skin purpled. Matt moved against the blankets and Mello’s fingernails drew blood.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Mello asked

“M-Mels?”

“I said don’t.”

VII.

And then unspoken as they showered, Mello holding his hair up and spitting curses when Matt rubbed the soap into his neck: did they ask or did you offer?

“It’s been a long time,” Matt said, as Mello’s hair flopped back down onto his skin. It was wet now and so heavy, not like what it really was- softer than air. And Matt saw now as he had every fucking time before that Mello was like air too, always moving higher and higher until there was absolutely nothing left. Pressing up against the edge of a vacuum. Mello spat as a stream of water trickled into his mouth and Matt wondered if he knew he looked too beautiful to be dangerous. It was exactly what made him so. “We’ve both done things we’re not proud of.”

“Not me,” Mello said, and turned the faucet off. Matt slid his arms around the clearest part of his stomach and in the quiet, tapwater slapped against the acrylic.

VIII.

“Mels?” Matt asked in the morning, staring down at an empty mattress.

He was up in a second in a panic, ripping off the covers Mello hadn’t used anyway when he heard the shower drumming away through the bullshit imitation of a living room wall. And the where are you? he’d almost said hung on his lips even though you didn’t need to ask questions to people who were already gone.

You didn’t need to, but he had.

He took a minute to breathe, sliding down between his bed and the mattress on the floor. If Mello was there right now he’d be staring right at him, but he wasn’t. Already taking showers on his own. Not only bearing the pain alone but preferring it. And here was Matt, annihilating a cigarette ass naked staring at his ex-and-current everything’s pillow-

There did appear to be something under it, though. He lifted it up.

On one side: never mention this note is you forgive me.

The other: never mention this note if you’re willing to let me stay.

Matt handled it the way he did most things: thoughtlessly, and with dead certainty. He stood up and he walked to the window, where rain was hammering against the glass. He held the note out until the paper melted against his skin. Until the words blurred into liquid.

The shower turned off, and Matt heard footsteps.

He hoped Mello wasn’t wearing a towel.