#hazblogs

That was probably not my smartest move - Threeox doesn’t talk per se, he just… gets his point across in a remarkable way that I had yet to pin down. A series of drawings of a cat with five eyes and a full ten minutes of interpretative dancing later, I kind of gathered that Fake Dana was trapped in the mirrors in the North Dorm, and couldn’t get out because of all the iron.

Naturally, I tried to organise a rescue mission, but gathering partners proved difficult. Real Dana apparently gained quite a reputation among the Student Witches, and everyone kept looking at me weirdly when I asked where Fake Dana was and if we could, like, rescue her maybe ? No one wanted to talk to me for more than two minutes, fidgeting uncomfortably and asking me if I’d packed my suitcase yet. I wasn’t going anywhere without Fake Dana, but hey, who am I to contradict the masses ? I’d just have to lay low a little longer.

It started on rocky grounds but I did gather for this mission a few seniors, all knights that had a history of being kind(er) to the Changelings, even though I’d never heard of them before. Their names were Toll, Bell and Eulogy, which - okay, some of us have weird names, but… It’s not that hard to pick a happy one. I couldn’t quite remember what mine was now but people had no trouble remembering me when I talked to them, so I assumed that was fine.

Add to the knights a freshman, EXO. Freshmen are probably a bit too young and frightened for that, but the fearless EXO wasn’t, uh, exactly a freshman ? Freshperson ? They were at least two metres tall and they had that look in their eyes that told you not to mess with them or they’d do unspeakable things that I, well, couldn’t speak of. Just know they were good for stuff like this. Or so I assumed, since they were the one who brought the knights to my bi-weekly “Where is Fake Dana” search.

We got some supplies: the baseball bat Fake Dana hid under my bed that one night the dean decided to do a room check, a good couple teaspoons of charcoal, some rags, a freaking battleaxe that Toll swooshed around like it weighed nothing, and that one river rock the archivist kindly lent us, and we departed for the wild wild north. Midnight seemed an appropriate time.

The dorm looked fancy, not gonna lie, the iron structure glimmered and almost rippled under the moonlight. I felt EXO shiver as we entered, their eyes losing any life that they might have had, their skin getting that weird greenish hue it didn’t have just moments before. The knights also shivered, but that might have been the cold.

The entrance was deserted, no sign of life save for a calico cat who meowed at us and tried to eat my shoelaces. She promptly departed when I told her they were a gift from the president, though I didn’t specify which president. It was the president of the cross-stitching club I was in in middle school, and she, uh, suffered from a slight eye issue after she looked through my hagstone. I mean, I did warn her about seeing the Nethers through the hole, but she didn’t listen.

Anyways, enough of that. Toll started to hack at the nearest door with his axe, waking up the poor unsuspecting students living there. “Where the fuck is she ?”, I asked, peeking around Toll’s shoulders. The two girls looked at each other, at Toll’s axe, at each other again, and one of them ended up spitting out “Basement. Third door to the left. Hope you die a slow, painful death, girl, you deserve it.”

Eulogy, true to her name, sang a few verses in Tamil, and we all collected our spirits before walking towards the basement. The iron in the walls seemed to sing to the beat of our steps, the doors creaking to the rhythm of our breaths. EXO seemed paler and paler under the dimmed overhead lights, until Eulogy sprayed us all with what I can only assume is water from that Wishing Well we’re not exactly supposed to talk about. That seemed to calm us down a little. I squeezed EXO’s hand when they looked at me questioningly, my smile thin and eyes dulled by fatigue. I couldn’t sleep that well since Fake Dana was gone, so I just wanted this to be over with already. 

The third door was cracked open, but no sounds emanated from behind the heavy iron and the weird, Tolkien-inspired words of advice in elvish. I could recognise “The way is shut, and the Dead keep it”, which wasn’t even the full correct quote. The door swayed to an invisible breeze and it opened way too silently for something made of rusty metal. As we went down the stairs, we could hear the stone crackle with contained electricity, so much so that Toll, Bell and Eulogy decided to stay up to guard our backs. EXO grit their teeth but didn’t stop, grabbing Toll’s axe on the way.

“Good luck, bro, and good riddance, you girl,” Eulogy waved, and the three knights were gone as if they were never here. I wondered what she meant by that, but I couldn’t ask in time. EXO gestured to the stairs, mouth shut tight. I was kind of getting tired of everyone telling me I should leave, so I hoped at least Fake Dana would help with that. Hadn’t I been working so hard to rescue her ?

At the bottom of the narrow stairs were two doors, also made out of metal, and what Threeox told me about - the mirror.

Ten feet tall, circled with iron chains, the metal behind the glass pane was reminiscent of clouds, though it was most likely silver. I could see a prostrate silhouette in the bottom right corner, faint tremors running through her whole body, sobs muffled, whimpers of pain spread between fits of coughing.

I yelled something I couldn’t really understand, a guttural sound that made her raise her head, and I saw Fake Dana’s eyes grow wide as she recognised me.

“Missed me ?” She smiled, teeth sharp.

My throat went tight as she started to slam her fists against the glass. “It’ll be okay soon. I promise,” I said, examining the lock keeping the iron chains together.

“Hey, move, I’ll take care of it,” a voice I pinned on EXO whispered in my ear. “Tell her to stand back.”

I did so, and Fake Dana retreated to the far side of the mirrorspace. With three swipes of his axe, EXO managed to hack away most of the chains, and the rest I hastily discarded, fists pounding on the glass as Fake Dana pounded back. 

“The key. The lock.”

“Fuck.” I started rummaging through my satchel, finally finding the small piece of wood that has slithered into the bag of crackers I keep for the crows. “Where is that fucking lock ?”

EXO gestured to the back of the mirror and helped me turn it around, their skin starting to sea as they kept pushing the metal. They eventually managed to shift it enough that I could wrestle my arm in and fit the key into an oddly shaped keyhole. 

The back of the mirror started glowing a pale green before cracking open, revealing a room barely large enough to fit Fake Dana. Tears welling up in my eyes, I did my best to extract her without causing her too much damage until she finally made it out to the other side.

“Friend,” I said. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you ! Thankfully Threeox helped, and there’s - look,” I continued, turning back to face my rescue team, forgetting it was only me and EXO now.

They were smiling, too, and they gestured at the stairs. I understood what they meant - out.

I turned to Fake Dana again, still somewhat relieved to see her dry her tears and gracefully get up without giving me the time to offer help. She smiled like nothing was wrong. I followed her up the stairs and into the hall, her naked feet sizzling and leaving angry red marks on the floor, probably due to the iron dust covering every inch of the place. EXO swung the the front door open, touching the iron pane with a quickly blistering hand, and as I looked at them more closely, I couldn’t help but mouth “Threeox”. 

“Oh shit, right, come here !” Fake Dana grabbed my face with both her hands, her palms wet with leftover tears and blood, the feel of them sending shivers down my spine. She spat in my eyes like she’d done before, and suddenly the night became less bright, her skin less pale, EXO’s features morphing into the face of my roommate, skin going from that red I’d been kinda surprised about, to the vibrant green that the cat warned me about. 

Toll, Bell and Eulogy were nowhere to be seen. I started wondering if I’d dreamed about them, if they were ever here at all. Their names had stuck in my mind and once again I wondered what mine was. I know Sizzle, my roommate, was quite upset before shoving me out of the room - which room was that again ? 17 ? 23 ? I forgot.

Fake Dana interrupted my thoughts with a light shove on my arm. “You can leave, now, you’ll remember who you are soon. It’s okay, it’s done.”

“What’s done ?” I tried to ask, but my eyelids suddenly became so heavy I had trouble keeping them open.

The last thing I heard were guttural sounds, so unlike Fake Dana’s voice, and a wet caress on my back.

I woke up on this train a few moments ago. I don’t know where it’s going, except from “Far away” and “Not where I came from”. My suitcase is filled with all my belongings, except the iron jewellery I acquired during my two years as Elsewhere U. And as I look at the landscape we are zapping by, I do not recognise the streets nor the trees.

The only thing keeping me from falling asleep again is the sticky red liquid pouring out of my nose, making me curse out loud as I scramble for a handkerchief. The blood stops flowing after a while, and I catch my reflection in the window across me.

I have several streaks of white hair, the contrast sharp with my otherwise dark brown ponytail. My eyes are bloodshot and I have blood caked on my face in the shape of hands. My skin is pale, my eyes gleam a quickly fading red.

I remember it now. My name is Dana.

What tips Matt off is that Near has stopped letting his hair hang loose, and bought a couple of hair ties. Near hates hair ties with a burning passion, or, as he puts it, “My hair just gets tangled in them. It’s a pain. So I don’t use them.” Mello doesn’t seem to have caught up on it yet, engrossed as he is with the deadline for his thesis approaching, but Matt can pick out the clues. He knows Near well enough now, to see through the mask and find out what the little ice-cube is thinking. And, to be frank, he’s never been a fan of calling Near an ice-cube. If he were prone to making Shrek references, and he is, he’d say Near is an onion. He has layers. Layers for days. So many layers that even after three years of being together, Mello and Matt have barely scratched the surface.

“Near,” Matt says during dinner, “could you help me with the dishes tonight ? I wanna get them done quickly because I have stuff to work on.”

“Sure,” Near says, and in the way his hands tighten around his fork and knife, Matt knows Near is preparing for the worst. Matt hates being this secretive, but Mello can’t know yet. He still hasn’t noticed anything, and is actually eating his mashed potatoes while reading a book on Beowulf, barely paying attention. Some of the mashed potatoes fall on his lap and he doesn’t even notice. Matt sometimes wonders why he’s in love with him and moments like this are useful reminders.

After they’ve finished eating, Near grabs all the plates and makes a beeline for the kitchen, while Matt gathers the glasses and the pan. When he arrives, Near’s already started loading the dishwasher, and his hair is up in a messy bun.

“Hey,” Matt says softly, but Near still startles. “I noticed you’ve been anxious recently. Is there something going on ?”

“Wh- how- ugh.” Near inhales shakily, and rubs hard at his eyes. Some strands of hair fall on his face and he brushes them away swiftly, a little pale. “You’ve noticed, huh. Mello talked about it yesterday while you were grocery shopping, asked why I was so skittish these days, and I guess I wanted you both to know at the same time. Less explaining.”

That’s a long speech for Near, who’s grown quieter and quieter with age. He’s twenty-three now, as far away from Wammy’s as possible, and he’s grown coy, but also… he’s never been good with emotions. They’re draining – they’re not logical. Matt is also surprised by Mello’s question – he thought the other hadn’t noticed, but obviously, genius Mello would have.

“I guess,” Near continues, “I’ll ask Mello if we can have a house meeting tonight. Please don’t laugh,” and he says that last sentence through gritted teeth, so low Matt isn’t even sure he was meant to hear it.

Mello is lounging on the couch with Kettle, their cat, and he’s distractedly petting her while muttering about the absurdity of battles and wars. His eyes shoot up when Near and Matt enter the room, and he smiles thinly. “House meeting, I see.”

“Yeah,” Near mutters, and he plops down on the armchair while Matt sits next to Mello on the couch. Like this, Near looks isolated from them – like he’s a separate unit, and not part of the whole – their whole. “I guess there’s something that’s been bothering me. Mello, remember when you said…”

Near stops there, words obviously stuck in his throat. Mello’s eyebrows are knitted together, like he’s trying to remember every single interaction he had with Near in his entire life. Matt instantly knows.

“Near, if this is about your hair-” Matt starts, but Near raises a hand to stop him.

“Remember the hygiene days at Wammy’s ?”

“Fucking hell, those were the worst,” Mello says. “Near, did they do anything to you ?”

There’s fire in his eyes, and Matt knows he’d gladly murder anyone he deems necessary. If someone hurt Near – Matt knows he’d do the same.

“They didn’t. They… they didn’t do anything,” Near immediately answers, “but I. I guess it always made me uncomfortable, that they were allowed to touch us like that. To do blood tests, massages. And cut our hair,” he ends up saying.

Suddenly Matt understands.

This is about boundaries. Matt and Mello have been having sex, and have done so for several years. Being attached at the hip with your best-friend-slash-lover tends to make you forget about physical boundaries, and they’d fallen together like puzzle pieces always meant to fit. Near only joined their duo later – after the pressure to compete for L’s succession was lifted from Mello’s shoulders and he allowed himself to not hate his fated rival.

However, and Mello has often asked about it, Near has been extremely slow at allowing them close. First came cuddling, Near resting his head on Matt’s shoulder while he was tinkering with a computer, propping up his feet on Mello’s lap. Then came the kisses, a quick touch of the lips on Matt’s birthday, Mello slowly pressing his mouth on Near’s under the mistletoe. They haven’t been further than making out fully clothed, hands wandering over fabric, Mello and Matt mesmerised by every tiny moan that fell out of Near’s mouth.

They’ve been dating for three years, someone might say that it could have gone a little faster. Matt knows the best things aren’t rushed. So he didn’t push, letting Near set the pace, and today he’ll do the same.

“I don’t like people touching me,” Near says, voice tiny. “You two – you can touch me, though. I feel good with you.” Matt knows this required all of Near’s strength, but Mello raises a hand.

“We’d never ask you to cut your hair for us,” he says slowly. “You do know that, right ? Hell, I like it, I think you look hotter with long hair. You can do whatever. We won’t – Matt and I won’t push you.”

“Maybe I need a little push,” Near answers, eyes downcast. “Maybe I need to know I’m included.”

“I think this calls for a little breaking of the traditions,” Matt says after a while. “Just – don’t move.” He runs to his room and rummages through the drawers, until he finds what he was looking for. “Here you go,” he says when he’s back in the living room, “early Christmas present.”

Near looks puzzled, but he tears at the wrapping paper, and uncovers…

“A self-care kit. Is this from Lush ?” he asks, mesmerised, turning the little basket around to see if there’s a label.

“Some of it is, yeah,” Matt says, and he has to admit, he’s a little proud of himself. “I thought you could use a little… reminder to be kind to yourself.”

“Matt,” Near whispers, before he gets up and crashing their lips together. When they separate, Near turns towards Mello, and wordlessly gestures at him to get up. Mello also gets a kiss, bruising in its intensity, and Near is left breathless, eyes filled with unshed tears. “Please, take care of me.” Matt and Mello exchange a glance. This could be – is this coded language for what they think ? “I want to – I want you two. I think I’ve waited long enough.”

Matt cups Near’s cheek in his hand and kisses him again, tongue peeking out to lick at Near’s lips, until he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Mello’s hands come up to their interlocked arms, and he drags them all to his room. In full “princess mode”, as Matt called it, he’d asked for the largest bed available at the store, and right now Matt thanks his foresight. Still kissing, Near and Matt enter the room, and they hear the sound of the door closing and the curtains being drawn shut.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Mello says, a smile on his lips. “The bed’s right here, also, I exist.”

“You’re such a brat,” Matt says, and his lips, wet with saliva, feel cold as he separates from Near.

“Clothes. Off. I don’t care where they land as long as you don’t step on mine,” Mello continues, as if he wasn’t interrupted.

“Already ?” Near whispers, and Matt can hear the tightness of his throat, the anxiety hiding there. “Can we-”

“I think,” Matt says with a pointed look at Mello, “that foreplay is in order. We want to pamper you,” he adds for Near, “we’re both here just for you.”

Near doesn’t blush. Something to do with poor blood flow, but there are signs – the hitch in his breath, the way he clenches his hands in Matt’s shirt. “Let go,” Matt whispers, “Mello will take care of you well. Right Mels ?”

“Less talking, more kissing, then,” Mello answers, and he takes Matt’s place in front of Near, cupping his cheeks in his hands and staring, staring for what seems like hours. Eventually, Near starts to squirm, and Mello takes it as his cue to move his hands down Near’s neck, his collarbones, the plane of his chest. Near was skinny to a fault while at Wammy’s, but Matt’s cooking has had pretty good effects on his body, and he’s filled up a little – Matt thinks it’s better for cuddling, and Near didn’t complain. Mello continues his path down Near’s hips and stops there, waiting for approval.

Near nods, and Mello slowly takes his shirt off, laughing a little when the collar gets stuck on Near’s head, and suddenly the tension in the room amplifies tenfold. If Near’s face doesn’t show it, a lovely blush has spread down his chest, dusting his collarbones in pink and making the rise and fall of every breath mesmerising. “Holy fuck,” Mello whispers, and his hands roam on every bit of exposed skin, hungrily, like he’s been starving and finally was offered a meal. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” Near mutters, and he motions for Mello to remove his shirt as well. “Will you be joining us ?” he asks Matt while Mello also throws away his pants, and Matt shakes his head – “Bad day,” he says, “but I love you.”

Near whimpers as Mello sucks a bruise on his neck. It’s not the first one, by far – thankfully, he works from home, and no one but his two lovers will be able to see the collar of hickeys that are blooming on his neck. Matt has sat down on a chair nearby, a hand down his pants, and he’s been… directing ? Taking the lead from afar, it seems.

“Near – do you think he can go a little lower ? He’s doing so good, isn’t he ? Marking you up, making you ours.”

Mello actually moans at that, full-on and throaty, and Near smirks – praise kink. Obviously. “You can go lower, Mello.” He does, he moves on to Near’s stomach and has the audacity to blow a raspberry on it, until Near says, almost too innocent to be true, “You’re so beautiful like this, did you know that ? I wish I could take a picture and show you.”

That calls for mirror sex, Near thinks distantly – only very distantly, because right now Mello is mouthing at the jut of his hip and it’s his turn to moan. Mello’s right hand pins Near to the bed, while his left is far gone off into his boxers, and the sounds, gosh, the sounds. He wonders what he was waiting for – he’s so excited now, he feels like he could come untouched.

When he says that out loud, even Matt stutters in his rhythm. Mello stops altogether, breathing heavily. “What the fuck, Near ? I don’t wanna come this quick, your pants aren’t even off !”

“Get them off, then,” Near says, and he knows he’s being unfair, but it’s his first time. He only gets to savour it once.

Mello loses no time and grabs at Near’s pants roughly, pulling them off until they come off his ankles. Near is half hard already, and he feels himself stiffen a little more under the sheer hungriness that comes of Mello and Matt’s gazes. He feels small, but oh so powerful, like the secrets of the universe are contained in the space between their bodies.

“Mels, go on, you know what to do. Or would you rather Near tell you ?”

Mello turns his gaze on Near, and awaits, panting lightly, hand still down his pants. “What do you want me to do,” he whispers, “I’ll do anything. I’ll be the best you’ve ever seen.”

“I know, Mello, I know.” Near doesn’t want to tell him that the most he’s seen is badly filmed porn and surprisingly good amateur erotica, so he still says, “I want, ah, I want your mouth on me.”

“Ask nicely,” Mello smiles thinly, “and I might do it.”

Near deadpans.

A few minutes later, he’s already regretting not giving in. Mello has been mouthing at everything but his dick, lavishing the divot of his hips, peppering his thighs with more hickeys, he’s even gone as far as letting his hair brush along Near’s length. He’s fully hard by now, and Matt’s running commentary is… oddly hot.

“Look at you, Near, you’re – gosh, you’re absolutely gorgeous, your hair, it’s so shiny, frames your body so perfectly – ah, Mels, dear, make it go faster, Mels, you know how to do it…”

Mello sure does. He tentatively licks Near’s balls and perineum, and it sends electricity up his spine.

“Please,” Near says, resolve breaking. “I want you to suck me.”

“See, when you get to it,” Mello says, before – oh. Oh.

To say that Near sees stars is an understatement. There’s wet heat all around the head of his cock, a tongue carefully lapping at the slit, and he didn’t know someone could feel so much with such a tiny movement of the lips. His hips cant upwards, but Mello has them under his control, and damn if that doesn’t make it even hotter.

“Near, darling, calm down,” Matt’s voice cuts through the fog, “you’re breathing a little harshly. Don’t want you coming so quick. Mello, I think you can take a break. You both should see yourselves, ah, you’re,” there’s a stutter there, Matt must be close, “you’re so beautiful, the perfect picture, so hot, ah, I can’t believe…” There’s a drawn-out moan at the end of that sentence, and Near knows it means Matt just came. Looking at him – and Mello, and Mello sucking his dick and – he’s heard of body worship. He theoretically knew what it meant, but the experience is another thing entirely.

Matt’s breathing takes a while to even out, time that Mello takes to tease along Near’s length with the tip of his tongue, which has him moaning pitifully and writing under Mello’s vice like grip.

“Ok,” Matt eventually lets out, “that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and Mello hasn’t even taken his pants off.”

“Yeah, about that,” Mello interjects, “I’m, uh, kinda close.”

“Take the lead,” Matt says, and he flops down on his chair, watching them with a lazy grin.

Mello looks absolutely delighted at that, and turns his eyes to Near, licking his lips. “Mind if I scoot back up ?”

“Absolutely, but are you sure it’s safe to kiss me after you’ve-” Near can’t bring himself to say it out loud, but Mello only laughs, and answers, “If you’re grossed out, we can skip that.”

“I… I’m not grossed out.”

“Great,” Mello says, devious. He scoots up the bed until he’s face-to-face with Near. “Hello, beautiful.”

“I should say that about you,” Near thinks out loud, and he can feel his ears redden when Mello’s pupils dilate. “How about you take those boxers off ?” he says, to divert the attention from whatever he might have said.

“With delight,” and Near watches with apprehension as his cock springs free. Mello seems rock hard and for the first time since they started Near feels himself tense up.

“We’re not doing anything… penetrative, today,” Mello immediately says. “Just – lay back. Let me take care of you. I’ll be the best, I promise.”

Dirty talking isn’t supposed to be this sweet, Near distantly thinks, but he smiles and whines at Mello until his fingers can tangle in his hair. “Show me your best,” Near whispers.

Mello’s eyes glaze over and he pulls Near’s hip up against him, positioning their legs in whatever way that makes fireworks explode in his head. He wants more, he wants so much more – Mello has somehow gotten his hands on lube and the friction is heavenly.

“You should see yourself,” Mello all but whimpers, rubbing his erection on Near’s hip, “you’re gorgeous, I wish I could stare at you all day, ah, I’m close, I’m so close-”

Near opens his eyes – he doesn’t remember having closed them, and his breath stutters. Mello’s hair is a golden halo around his head, his pale skin wet with sweat and glowing in the late afternoon light coming in through the curtains.

Near comes right then, quietly, hands clenching in Mello’s hair, maybe a little too tight – or perhaps just tight enough, as Mello comes with a grunt right afterwards.

They spend a while panting harshly, and Mello still has stars dancing in front of his eyes when he opens them.

“I feel icky,” Near eventually says. “I want a shower.”

“Pillow princess,” Mello grumbles, and Matt laughs.

“We have Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, I might as well start a movie company,” he jokes. “Bet Disney won’t see that coming.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Mello complains.

“I actually also feel icky,” Matt says. “I kinda made a mess of my boxers.”

Mello raises his hands to the sky, but eventually disentangles his limbs from Near’s and makes a beeline for the bathroom, hoping the others will follow. He now understands the purpose of having the XXL bathtub – they all fit in it at once, and right now, they all need pampering. While the tub fills with warm water, he rummages in the cupboard for a bath bomb, and also grabs some random items that catch his attention.

Matt is the first to join him in the bathroom, and he crosses his arms over the scars on his chest, but he’s naked – the sex must have alleviated some of his dysphoria. He sits on the border of the tub, letting his feet dip into the water, absent-mindedly humming the theme song of the last boss battle he played. He smiles when Mello sets up all the stuff he got – a comb, several bottles of conditioner, and the aforementioned bath bombs.

A whine is heard, louder than the sound of water slowly filling the tub, and Matt laughs. “I bet he wants one of us to carry him here,” he says, and when another whine is heard, he sighs and says, “Don’t worry, Mels, I’ll do it with my manly arms.”

“Shut up, you silly ass,” Mello answers, but Matt has already left the bathroom. He’s back a few moments later, breathing a little strained, Near in his arms bridal-style. Mello shivers at the sight – Near’s chest is splattered with white, and slick slowly makes its way down Matt’s thighs. They looked wrecked, like they all had good sex, which they did, and that makes him strangely proud.

Mello wordlessly hands Matt a wet towel and he pats Near clean with it, careful not to overstimulate him. Then, they all slide in the bathtub, careful not to splash water everywhere. Near’s hair is long enough to reach the water, and Mello finds the swirling motions it makes mesmerising.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Near eventually grumbles. “I feel like you’re-”

“You’re so beautiful and intelligent but you can be a goddamn stupid dude,” Mello smiles. He doesn’t dish out compliments easily and it shows in the way Near’s whole chest flushes, which he tries to hide with his arms, to no avail.

They all reach for the bathbomb at once, and Matt makes a show of catching it first and dramatically dropping it into the water. It fizzles as it dissolves, little specks of seaweed glitter sticking to their skin.

When Near drops under the water, pinching his nose like the big baby he is, Mello doesn’t really notice – he’s to busy washing Matt’s back with the loofah, but when he comes up, it’s like all the glitter decided to stick to his hair. He looks magical, like some kind of siren luring sailors to their death.

“Hey,” Mello asks, voice low. “Can I – can we help you wash your hair ? I brought out that special conditioner you buy.”

Near pales quite a lot at that, but eventually nods, and turns around so they have full access to his hair. Matt starts by running his hands through it and Mello joins after a while, disentangling the many knots that formed since Near last washed his hair. Once more, Mello marvels at how pale and soft it is. He says so out loud – it dawns on him that he’s never done that before, and Near deserves to know.

The flush is also apparently visible on Near’s shoulders.

After that, Matt grabs the shampoo, and they begin massaging it into Near’s scalp and locks, careful not to tug. Near’s quiet sighs are lost in the whispers of the water, or so he thinks, but Matt’s eyes are lit with wonder, and Mello is quite sure his are too. When the shampoo has been rinsed off, they lavish conditioner on the length of Near’s hair, still combing through it with their hands, and they wait for a moment before rinsing it off as well.

“Thank you,” Near murmurs when they’re done. They exit the bath and grab the towels, tying it around their waists. They make their way towards the bed, and Near flops down, mostly naked, whining again.

“You need your PJs ?” Matt asks. “We can also sleep naked. I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Pyjamas please,” Near says, and they all spend a little while dressing up, hair still damp from the bath.

When they’re all dressed, Matt joins Near on the bed, while Mello sits on the edge. The moment feels so… intimate, the smell of sex still present in the room. They made a huge step forward tonight, and he expects many more. Near makes grabby hands at him until he joins Matt and him on the bed, lying in a big tangle of limbs.