Oreo

Okay, seriously, oreos and Revolvers. Two sexiest things ever. (Except for maybe whipped cream and muzzle loaders...) This is, like, uber-kink.

Please don't try this at home. ALL Guns (Including pellet guns and paint-ball guns) are dangerous and should not be used as toys. If you absolutely must, buy a plastic toy gun at the dollar store. (I have to put this here in case some idiot decides to play with guns after reading this and shoots themselves or their lover. Believe me, you don't want that to happen.) And don't play choking games, I'm not kidding, It is seriously dangerous.

This is written with the assumption that Matt and Mello have been lovers for years.

I wrote this because I was so happy with the reviews to "Near You". I'm one review away from one off my big goals. (First goal: 50 reviews, second goal: 100)

I (Still) don't own Death Note, But the boys are just so much fun!

It all started with a cookie, two pieces of chocolate goodness around a vanilla core. White cream on black cookies. Matt licked the icing out of the the center of the last oreo. If Mello ever found out he ate the last cookie, he didn't even want to think what the blonde would do.

He was about to find out. "Matt, dearest, are those my Oreos?"

Matt had to think fast, he held up half of a cookie. "Want some?"

Mello's gun was suddenly between his lips.

"Kinky, Mello." He murmured around the cold steel in his mouth, careful not to chip a tooth, it probably came out muffled, but he didn't care. "I can do kinky."

Mello blinked at him, like he hadn't thought of the possible implications of shoving an object that had just been tucked down the front of his pants into his lover's mouth. Either that or he was just surprised that Matt wasn't freaking out about having a possibly loaded firearm practically shoved down his throat. One could never really tell.

"What are you doing, Matt?" Mello sounded breathy enough that Matt looked up, before dropping his eyes back to half mast and continuing to suck on Mello's new revolver. He took more, swallowed the barrel down until he could lick Mello's knuckles where they curled around the trigger guard. "Shit, Matt." Mello flipped open the chamber and laid two cartridges aside.

Matt had been playing with his life. Nothing new. Mello slid the gun out of his mouth and dry-fired it into the corner of the room. Matt left his mouth open just a bit, inviting Mello to put it back. He did, pressing the barrel to Matt's swollen lips.

Matt slipped his tongue into the muzzle, it tasted like gunpowder. Mello looked like he could come just watching Matt suck his gun; pretty lips half-parted and Matt had to do more, had to swallow it again and lick the warming steel. It tasted like Mello, skin and sweat and salt, and Matt needed that. He gave a groan that he didn't doubt that Mello could feel through the metal, up his arm. He'd always suspected that guns had phallic connotations to Mello, but now he had proof.

Mello's other hand was over his crotch, fighting with the laces of his pants. Matt reached over to help, undid them and slid them down over pale thighs. "Matt, Shit... Matt." Mello was already touching his own body, stroking himself.

Matt reached up, fished in the pocket of Mello's jacket, found the oil he used on his gun. "Here." He poured it over Mello's erection, went back to licking the revolver. "Mmm..."

Mello jerked and Matt was really, really glad there weren't any bullets left in the gun. "Matt..." The blonde pressed the muzzle further into his mouth, holding Matt's tongue down with it and forcing him to try to swallow around it.

Hard metal at the back of his throat, down his throat and it was hard to breathe and Mello kept moving forward as he tried to pull back. Soon Matt couldn't move back any further and unlike the flesh he was used to, the steel wouldn't give. He couldn't breathe at all and his vision was greying around the edges. For whatever reason, the flash of panic caused his dick to pulse in it's denim prison and Matt knew just from the look on Mello's face that the front of his jeans must be wet with pre-come.

With careful, deliberate slowness, the gun was pulled back until he could gasp for breath and stare up Mello's body to the beautiful ruin of his face. Even as close as he'd been to losing consciousness, he hadn't doubted that Mello would let him breathe.

"Fuck, Matt, you're so sick..." Mello purred, dropping down next to him and running the wet barrel of the gun down Matt's clothed chest. "Take it off, now."

Matt couldn't comply fast enough, his shirt and gloves hit the floor and he managed to get his belt open before Mello stopped him.

"You look so dirty like that. Leave them on." Matt gasped a breath when Mello pressed the muzzle of the revolver against the obscenely large wet spot over his groin and stroked up with it. "Filthy, sick little slut. My slut. Only mine." Mello trailed off with a growl and bit him on the neck, Hard.

The wet patch was spreading. Mello always knew just what to say to make him hard, and Matt could feel the blood sliding down his chest even before Mello started tracing through the red liquid. Then suddenly he was watching Mello slick the gun with his blood.

"Jeans around your thighs." The blonde demanded and Matt was too far gone to disobey. He did, however, yelp piteously when Mello pressed the lean barrel of the gun into his unprepared body, and then rock back into it when Mello began to thrust.

"Mmm," Mello purred, bringing his bloody lips to kiss where his gun met Matt's body and the redhead couldn't hold back any longer. He slowly collapsed forward into a pool of his own come and blood, the gun slipping out.

A long moment later, Mello's fingers curled under Matt's chin, tilted him up to look into his eyes. "God, Matt, you're too fucking beautiful." He whispered, letting Matt catch a glimpse of white come on black leather. "Too fucking perfect. I love how much you trust me. I love you so damn much."

Matt smiled serenely, "I love you, too."