"She is not getting away with this," he thinks.

He thinks it even as she is leaning forward, rocking her hips fluidly. Her sweat-drenched belly slides against his, and it's apparently just what his body needed to send that extra sensation rushing through his brain, interrupting all rational thought.

He turns his head as she tries to kiss him – her lips fall instead on his cheek, warm and soft and just so not something he wants to think about.

He tries to pay special attention to where all of her is at any given time, and breathes out a ragged protest as her left arm disappears from his sight. In response, she grinds harder against him, and he can feel his legs tremble.

The arm comes back soon enough, and Mello's eyes pop open wider than is attractive.

She uses her teeth to pop the cap off of the chocolate sauce, as her right hand is busy keeping his bony shoulders pinned against the bed.

He can't help himself; he strains towards it. It is something safe, something comforting, something completely the opposite of the panic and confusion he's feeling. She tips the bottle and gives him a few drops, just enough to make his face relax into a calm grin.

His eyes are closed, so he doesn't know the cold droplets are coming. They trail down his chin, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone, where Hal licks up what she can.

The bottle makes a grotesque squishing noise, and Mello feels the chocolate rolling down his chest. He's keeping his eyes closed, as it makes for an altogether more pleasant experience; less reality, more sensation.

This time he arches into her tongue, a low moan rattling his rib cage. He shifts inside of her, and it feels irresistibly good. He tries to move again, and is punished by two cold, strong hands holding his hips down. Her tongue lingers by his navel for a second, allowing his mind to clear.

She laps in when she's sure he's breathing somewhat normally again, and he almost giggles. It tickles, and he shifts again.

The giggles turn into mumbled pleading.

She blows on his wet skin, and he jumps, realizing as he does it that she's lifting her hips just high enough for a proper upward thrust. She immediately lowers them again and leans down to whisper directly into his ear.

"How do you feel?"

He doesn't reward her teasing with a response, but cracks open an eye. She is staring down at him like she might devour him. He wonders briefly whether he should worry, but then she moves her hips a little from side to side, and the strange jolt of pleasure invades his mind yet again.

"Don't you want to answer me?" she asks. Her tone is sweet, but the hungry look in her eyes is getting more intense by the second.

He bites his lips – both of them tightly, together – and turns to look at the door. Maybe someone would come in? Come in and make Hal leave, and then he could finish this on his own.

Not that it had ever felt this good on his own, not even with the best of fantasies, but he also doesn't have to beg himself for release in the most embarrassing ways.

She puts chocolate sauce on her tongue and leans down to spread it on one nipple, making a circle then lapping it up. "Mello," she says quietly. "I've got all night."

He tries to overpower her, but she's got the advantage and keeps him pinned. She creates a new river of chocolate down his chest and starts licking him all over again.

When she's finished, his skin feels raw and slightly electric, and he is annoyed. Frustrated, really, when he sees the smug look of total satisfaction on Hal's face. She flexes muscles he didn't know she had and and his erection starts to throb. He longs to move, but she is far too determined to keep him in contact with the bedspread.

"Hal!" He means to be scolding, or intimidating, or something that isn't needy, but that's how it comes out. "You. . . will. . . let. . . me -"

"What?" She laughs and leans down intimately, tongue creeping out to trace the shell of his ear. "Did you decide to want to come?"

He groans, trying to rock forward or upwards or any way that will get him some friction, but she keeps him down mostly.

She scrapes her nails down his arms, which he tries to pull away. She catches his wrists, though, and pushes them above his head. Her thumbs sneak into his palms, rubbing like she's soothing him, and he feels her mouth move from his ear to his neck, where the lightest of love bites makes him gasp.

"Do you want to know something?" she asks, releasing his skin for a moment.

He doesn't answer.

"You're so -" she inhales deeply, squeezing his hands. "-Incredibly beautiful."

He isn't sure what to say. Thank you? His chest suddenly feels full and it's weird and he wants it to go away.

She rocks her hips again and he feels tension building in his stomach.

"Do that again," escapes his lips before he has time to think, and he can feel her grin against his shoulder.

"Beg me."

He grunts, hoping that she'll understand how much he wants to make her do what he says. "No."

She bites his shoulder, hard, and he yells, making sure not to blink so that the tears don't think they have permission to come out.

He lunges to bite her back, but she sits up before he can reach her.

"Mello." He vaguely registers that she seems focused on his name. "I could leave right now and you wouldn't get to finish."

He smiles. "Go ahead." It's a challenge that only his pride is backing up at this point.

"No," she says quietly, thoughtfully.

She starts riding him, slowly, in a disjointed rhythm that is music to Mello's muddled senses. As she gets faster, his annoyance fades a little and is replaced with fingers and toes curling into the blanket and panted curses.

He can't stop his back from arching off of the mattress as her movements become more and more attuned to what his body needs. It doesn't take long at all for the tension in his stomach to become warm, then hot, and he knows what's about to happen.

She must know too, because she laces her fingers through his, and her shallow breaths are almost forming words. She speeds up slightly, and he lifts his back one last time, climaxing in a bright, blinding white behind his eyelids.

She tenses around him soon after, repeating his name in an uncharacteristically low voice. He watches in awe as her frantic movements cease, and she slides off of him onto the bed.

He rolls over and buries his face in the bed, embarrassed and hoping against all hope that when he wakes up in the morning this will all have felt much less awkward and confusing. He feels her arm snake across his back, fingering his shoulder blades carefully. She pulls herself against his body, kissing his cheek.

"You're so gorgeous."

The hair on the back of his neck stands up.

"A gorgeous, wonderful, amazing man."

He turns his head to look at her. "I -"

Before he can think of what to say, she pulls him against her body, and he welcomes it. She is warm, and comforting, and safe, and he needs that at the moment.

There's a part of him that wants to scream, to cry, to punish her for making him second, as always. But he knows that's just his ego, and for the moment it will have to wait, because he needs someone to hold on to.