((O!Matt and his adventures with seducing Minion! Fic time oh yeah~))
There's still dye under Matt's fingernails, but several layers of electric blue polish (with sparkles) covers that up, although it can't hide the raw redness of his well-scrubbed hands. Neither can he get rid of the lingering odor of bleach permeating his skin, but it's only faint, a weakly anesthetic smell, whispering about hospitals. It's worth it for the bitingly pink hair falling into his eyes, even if he could care less for the shade. He smiles to himself.
Mello will like the change.
Hmm. The hair is done, but Mello's nowhere around. Matt needs entertainment beyond a bottle of Atomic Pink, and since Mello's not there to hold his attention that means either video games or playing games with real people. It seems a shame to lounge around inside his room with his brand new hair color to show off.
Time to bother someone.
--
Fluorescent lights feel like brutal daggers in his eyes, even when he's hiding away behind expensive shades. Who the hell decided such searing lights were a good idea to install in wide open rooms full of whiteness? Fucking morons, that's who, engineering morons with a bone to pick against people with sensitive eyes. Matt would like to have a violent word with them, or turn them over to Mello for a torture session- both options have potential.
Minion- or Brandon, that's his real name, but he'll always be Minion in Matt's head- is busy fussing over some sort of bowl full of food junk (nothing new there), though he looks up when he hears Matt enter. Brandon-Minion of course has various jobs assigned to him, but he seems to spend most of his time making random shit in the kitchen of Mello's personal evil fortress and getting everybody to like him through the mystical secret of Good Food. The scary morale is really low in this clean, tidy place. It's usually an in-and-out flow of one or two people looking to score something tasty and unhealthy, and you'd be surprised the amount of cake mafia members can eat in one afternoon.
"Hey, go ahead and turn out a few of the lights," Brandon says as he brushes hair out of his face with his wrist. Matt can see him trying not to smile as he turns back to his bowl of ingredients. Matt hits a few of the switches on the wall and one, two, three lights go out, leaving four and five to brighten the other side of the room where Brandon stands. Several things about Matt seem to be common knowledge among the mafia members - Mello's claim on him the main one everybody knows - but somehow word's also gotten around about his photophobia. It's convenient in this case, at least. Brandon is always eagerly accommodating, often embarrassing himself along the way. His crush fails at subtlety.
"There's still some of the cake I made- oh, n-nevermind," Brandon says as he looks over his shoulder again to see Matt already busily eating all the icing off of a piece of cake with his fingers. He doesn't look away immediately and Matt catches him staring, blatantly abuses that moment to start sucking icing off his index finger. Brandon turns away with a flush in his cheeks, leaving Matt smug like a cat with a mouthful of mice. He enjoys the blushing and stumbling, more than he expected he would at first. It used to be all about getting food out of the apparently aspiring chef, but the way Brandon trips over his obvious attraction hits right at Matt's attention whoring heart. Messing with the kid is just too damn fun- the fact Mello finds the whole thing amusing as hell doesn't hurt either.
"Why don't you sit down?" Matt asks with all the innocence he can muster. "I'm bored, and Mello's gone, so he can't even approve of all the work I put into my hair," he adds with a slight whine in his voice. 'Pay attention to me- Mello isn't, and I'm pissed off about it, so make it all better.' Brandon looks down into his bowl and then takes the bait, exactly as Matt expected, moving to sit across from him at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Too far away for Matt's tastes, but he can work with it.
"Where's Mello today?" Brandon tries to ask casually, but he sucks at 'casual' when it comes to both Matt and Mello.
"Hell, like he tells me these things. Out somewhere, that's all I know. There's a party tonight, it's why I decided to mess with my hair, but he's not even around."
"Oh... yeah, I heard about that. Guess you'll both be gone later then," Brandon replies with disappointment in his voice.
"Rather it was just Mello gone, huh?" Matt asks with a smile several notches past coy, getting into the devious end of the spectrum. Brandon chooses to ignore his comment and look away, which just makes Matt's smile head straight to evil. "Hey, you know-" he starts, pushing his plate to the side and using his hands to hoist himself onto the counter - not like he weighs much - and slide himself over to Brandon's side. His legs dangle off the counter edge as he leans toward the suddenly extremely flustered minion. "Mello's still gone right now, if you're so concerned," he finishes, face inches away from Brandon's ear. If only he would turn back towards him, he'd be inches away from his lips.
Brandon is one big ball of nervousness, flinching and jerking away from Matt like he's dangerous... which he probably is, but that's not that point. Matt grabs Brandon's shoulders and hardly has to direct him back towards him- past all the shyness and fear of Mello, it's obvious what he wants. Matt's glad to oblige, pleased he's finally gotten this far with the stubbornly paranoid kid. He pushes Brandon into a deeper kiss, forceful with his tongue and teeth and pressing hands. Brandon makes a tiny whimpering sound and Matt's tempted to laugh smugly, but then there's a tug and Brandon's pulling away with a yelp, his hand over his mouth.
"You bit me," he utters breathlessly, eyes wide like a deer in two very bright headlights. Matt runs his tongue over his lips and tastes the blood, then shrugs, unconcerned. "Sorry, guess I'm too used to kissing Mello." What's the big deal? But apparently that answer doesn't help, because Brandon's eyes are still wide and now look half-panicked.
"I'm so going to get killed for this!" he exclaims to himself more than Matt, his eyes staring at the smudges of blood on his finger tips. "Fuck," he swears once before fleeing the kitchen.
Matt watches Brandon leave silently, then pushes himself off the counter and pulls up a chair. What a twitchy guy. Matt keeps telling him Mello doesn't care what the two of them do. Still... making out is progress.
And he totally left lots of cake.
Next!
Day 2
Mello will like the change.
Hmm. The hair is done, but Mello's nowhere around. Matt needs entertainment beyond a bottle of Atomic Pink, and since Mello's not there to hold his attention that means either video games or playing games with real people. It seems a shame to lounge around inside his room with his brand new hair color to show off.
Time to bother someone.
--
Fluorescent lights feel like brutal daggers in his eyes, even when he's hiding away behind expensive shades. Who the hell decided such searing lights were a good idea to install in wide open rooms full of whiteness? Fucking morons, that's who, engineering morons with a bone to pick against people with sensitive eyes. Matt would like to have a violent word with them, or turn them over to Mello for a torture session- both options have potential.
Minion- or Brandon, that's his real name, but he'll always be Minion in Matt's head- is busy fussing over some sort of bowl full of food junk (nothing new there), though he looks up when he hears Matt enter. Brandon-Minion of course has various jobs assigned to him, but he seems to spend most of his time making random shit in the kitchen of Mello's personal evil fortress and getting everybody to like him through the mystical secret of Good Food. The scary morale is really low in this clean, tidy place. It's usually an in-and-out flow of one or two people looking to score something tasty and unhealthy, and you'd be surprised the amount of cake mafia members can eat in one afternoon.
"Hey, go ahead and turn out a few of the lights," Brandon says as he brushes hair out of his face with his wrist. Matt can see him trying not to smile as he turns back to his bowl of ingredients. Matt hits a few of the switches on the wall and one, two, three lights go out, leaving four and five to brighten the other side of the room where Brandon stands. Several things about Matt seem to be common knowledge among the mafia members - Mello's claim on him the main one everybody knows - but somehow word's also gotten around about his photophobia. It's convenient in this case, at least. Brandon is always eagerly accommodating, often embarrassing himself along the way. His crush fails at subtlety.
"There's still some of the cake I made- oh, n-nevermind," Brandon says as he looks over his shoulder again to see Matt already busily eating all the icing off of a piece of cake with his fingers. He doesn't look away immediately and Matt catches him staring, blatantly abuses that moment to start sucking icing off his index finger. Brandon turns away with a flush in his cheeks, leaving Matt smug like a cat with a mouthful of mice. He enjoys the blushing and stumbling, more than he expected he would at first. It used to be all about getting food out of the apparently aspiring chef, but the way Brandon trips over his obvious attraction hits right at Matt's attention whoring heart. Messing with the kid is just too damn fun- the fact Mello finds the whole thing amusing as hell doesn't hurt either.
"Why don't you sit down?" Matt asks with all the innocence he can muster. "I'm bored, and Mello's gone, so he can't even approve of all the work I put into my hair," he adds with a slight whine in his voice. 'Pay attention to me- Mello isn't, and I'm pissed off about it, so make it all better.' Brandon looks down into his bowl and then takes the bait, exactly as Matt expected, moving to sit across from him at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Too far away for Matt's tastes, but he can work with it.
"Where's Mello today?" Brandon tries to ask casually, but he sucks at 'casual' when it comes to both Matt and Mello.
"Hell, like he tells me these things. Out somewhere, that's all I know. There's a party tonight, it's why I decided to mess with my hair, but he's not even around."
"Oh... yeah, I heard about that. Guess you'll both be gone later then," Brandon replies with disappointment in his voice.
"Rather it was just Mello gone, huh?" Matt asks with a smile several notches past coy, getting into the devious end of the spectrum. Brandon chooses to ignore his comment and look away, which just makes Matt's smile head straight to evil. "Hey, you know-" he starts, pushing his plate to the side and using his hands to hoist himself onto the counter - not like he weighs much - and slide himself over to Brandon's side. His legs dangle off the counter edge as he leans toward the suddenly extremely flustered minion. "Mello's still gone right now, if you're so concerned," he finishes, face inches away from Brandon's ear. If only he would turn back towards him, he'd be inches away from his lips.
Brandon is one big ball of nervousness, flinching and jerking away from Matt like he's dangerous... which he probably is, but that's not that point. Matt grabs Brandon's shoulders and hardly has to direct him back towards him- past all the shyness and fear of Mello, it's obvious what he wants. Matt's glad to oblige, pleased he's finally gotten this far with the stubbornly paranoid kid. He pushes Brandon into a deeper kiss, forceful with his tongue and teeth and pressing hands. Brandon makes a tiny whimpering sound and Matt's tempted to laugh smugly, but then there's a tug and Brandon's pulling away with a yelp, his hand over his mouth.
"You bit me," he utters breathlessly, eyes wide like a deer in two very bright headlights. Matt runs his tongue over his lips and tastes the blood, then shrugs, unconcerned. "Sorry, guess I'm too used to kissing Mello." What's the big deal? But apparently that answer doesn't help, because Brandon's eyes are still wide and now look half-panicked.
"I'm so going to get killed for this!" he exclaims to himself more than Matt, his eyes staring at the smudges of blood on his finger tips. "Fuck," he swears once before fleeing the kitchen.
Matt watches Brandon leave silently, then pushes himself off the counter and pulls up a chair. What a twitchy guy. Matt keeps telling him Mello doesn't care what the two of them do. Still... making out is progress.
And he totally left lots of cake.
Next!
Day 2