Mello took Matt's agreement as a compliment; whether he meant it that way or not was immaterial. He led and Matt followed; it was the way things were between them and he didn't question whether or not Matt liked it that way. Of course he did or he wouldn't come back for more; it seemed self-evident to Mello.

He wanted to laugh: in triumph at inspiring Matt to do as he wanted, in sheer relief at not being alone any longer, but he stifled it in kissing Matt, not wanting to ruin the mood. Mello shivered at fingernails on his bare skin, pressing tighter against Matt and wishing for a convenient wall to brace himself against. This felt inevitable as a train wreck, something you saw coming for miles but couldn't stop, so you stared and stared in horrified fascination, as passersby might be staring now at the two men suddenly making out on the sidewalk, wondering if they'd stop but suspecting they wouldn't. Truthfully, Mello didn't want to stop.