|harukami (harukami) wrote,|
@ 2005-08-30 18:59:00
|Entry tags:||cfud, death note|
[fic] [CFUD] "Yes, I'm Listening"
Did I mention I was gonna write something shameless? Here, have something shameless.
CFUD-based. You know those anti-sex rules? The rules finish with "hope you like your hands, because it's all you're getting" or something like that. Of course, they're crowded six (or more) to a cabin and, well.....
Yes, I'm Listening
CFUD-based Death Note fiction? You know what I mean. XD
Near<-->Mello. Not safe for work, not at all.
It's dark and although the Headquarters half of Boys Cabin 1 is separated from the rest, it's still not exactly private. Near's sharing his own tiny cot and Shigure and L are crowded into the other -- it's not even Shigure's cabin, Mello's pretty sure, but Shigure and L are close lately and, well.
Well. If they're close, they're close. Mello doesn't think it's the best thing, but he doesn't think it's the worst, either.
The downside to the closeness is the acres and acres of nothing. They can't do anything. It's not as bad if you're apart to start, but sharing a bed, Near's warmth huddled at his back, the soft movements of his breathing brushing Mello's skin -- well, in that situation, it's downright painful. L and Shigure are feeling it too, Mello knows, but he stubbornly suspects it's not as bad. They're both adults, after all; he's just a teenager and his body won't shut up. He took the obligatory health classes, knows that this is perfectly normal and he'll grow out of it -- in about ten fucking years -- but in the meantime it's loud and urgent and desperate and God, he wants to get laid.
All he can do is jerk off in the times he has privacy and it's not enough, it's not enough, it's nowhere near enough. He grabs time for himself sometimes in the boy's washrooms -- when the ghost isn't watching and the faucets aren't spurting blood or any of the other fucking distractions. Sometimes he's alone in the cabin and he does it then, as fast as he can, a fucking marathon of dissatisfaction.
He's never quite dared to wack off in bed with Near already there but, God, there's a first time for everything and he's trapped in camp for God only knows how long and, well, his body won't shut up and let him sleep.
Mello's careful as he slides his pajama bottoms down slightly, careful as he takes hold of himself, trying to make no sudden movements that might wake anyone. He strokes himself slowly, one-handed, in as short and slow a stroke as he can do and think he might still get off on. It's tantalizing, horribly light, but, fuck, it's good enough, it's the best he can do in those circumstances.
He's dead silent as he does it, and though he can't keep himself from speeding up, roughening, he manages to keep his breathing almost even It's because of this, probably, that he hears Near's own breathing changed, rough and shallow and clearly awake.
Fuck, Mello thinks. Fuck, he's awake, he's listening--
He comes and grits his teeth hard to keep from making any noise at the heated, pained rush of it.
Better, he decides as he shivers through the aftermath, better to pretend he hadn't heard Near; they could get in trouble otherwise. And so, still acting as if he weren't trying to wake Near, he slides carefully to the edge of the bed, digs up the papers they've kept around to clean up messes, wipes himself down carefully, wads it up, tosses it lightly towards Seikou who snaps it out of the air.
Near hasn't moved again and maybe it was his imagination, Mello thinks. He settles back in; it doesn't matter anyway, really. It's not against the rules or anything, and besides, he's tired now.
But he stays awake, his eyes closed as he pretends to sleep, and he listens for Near.