Every one of Mello's sense was alert, sharpened by the hormones rushing through him, and all of it was focused on Matt. It wasn't easy to have the full force of Mello's nearly legendary focus directed at you, or so he'd been told, but Matt could handle it. That was why they fit together so well: Matt was strong enough to take what Mello threw at him without being run over by it, to stay himself without pushing back too hard.

He didn't miss his frustration, and little as he wanted to separate, Mello shared it. So he shifted his stance, arching his back just a bit and unfastened his belt rapidly, quite possibly faster than he ever had before, leaving it still in the belt loops but hanging open. He reached over and unbuckled Matt's for good measure; might as well save them both time. "Matt," he whispered, lips up against his ear, then lowered his head just enough to bite carefully at the lobe.