Honeytrap

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/45381262.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Relationship: Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl
Characters: Mello | Mihael Keehl, Matt | Mail Jeevas
Additional Tags: rated for later chapters, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting,
Alternate Universe - No Death Note, Other Additional Tags to Be Added,
Violence
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-03-04 Updated: 2023-03-28 Words: 4,551 Chapters: 3/?
 Honeytrap
by notorphanedaccount

Summary

The thing about Mello is, he knows how to talk. He plays people like Matt plays games,
presses the right buttons to get what he wants, without ever jeopardizing his own pride. So
instead of saying I need your help, or I trust you, or even fucking please, Mello takes a sip of
his drink before saying, “I can make it worth your while.”

Six years ago, Matt’s best friend disappeared off the face of the earth. Three years ago, Matt
ran away from the place he’d been abandoned at and tried to start a new life from nothing.
Two years ago, Matt made a few very stupid decisions, leaving him with next to no money
and some very dangerous enemies.

So when Mello suddenly drags him back into his life with a demand he has no right to make
and grandiose offers that seem too good to be true, Matt is skeptical and more than a little
pissed off. But Mello always gets what he wants, no matter the cost; and apparently, after all
these years, what he wants is Matt.

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 Chapter 1

Fleetingly, Matt wonders what it means that his first thought upon being beaten to a pulp is:
Man, my manager’s gonna kill me for ruining this uniform.

His next thought is ow ow ow ow ow, though, so he figures that he’s still at least a little
rational as he hits the ground with a grunt.

A pair of heavy black boots steps into his vision, and he blinks the stars from his eyes and
pushes himself to sit up.

“Come on, on your feet,” the owner of the boots snaps from above him. “We’re not done
here.”

Matt swipes his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing down and noticing a streak of
blood in the dim light. He really doesn’t want to, but it’s better than sitting in some sort of
suspicious liquid in a dark alleyway, so he staggers to his feet and adjusts his skewed
goggles.

“There’s really no need for this,” he tries reasoning, taking a few wobbling steps back and
raising his hands. “I’m not tryin’ to skip out on you. I gave you half already, didn’t I?”

“Oh,” Boots says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “so I suppose I should just let you go then? If
you think half’s as good as full, maybe I should break half your fingers and see how much
fancy typing you can do then?”

“Well, then you really wouldn’t get your money,” Matt points out, then yelps as he has to
quickly dodge a swing. “Okay, okay, I get your point. But there’s not much I can do until the
other half comes through on my end. I just plain don’t have the money yet, but as soon as I
get it, it’s yours.”

Boots—Matt really should try remembering his name, because he’s starting to think the
nickname doesn’t suit him—sneers.

“And what’re you planning on doing until then? You said you’d have it a week and a half
ago. Surely you’ve made something from your little exploits since then.”

“I already told you,” Matt says, then yells out in pain as—Leroy? Leonard? Lex?—slams a
boot into his shin. He stumbles back, falling on his ass again and instinctively raising an arm
to shield himself.

“I told you, my power’s out,” he says, wincing as his shin throbs in pain. “I’m not getting any
side jobs done until I can use my computer, and I don’t get paid until Friday. Even then, my
full paycheck’s only half of the remaining money from what I did for you. On Friday I pay
my power bill, and then I’ll be able to get you the rest of the cash.”
“And who says you can’t just go to an internet cafe or something, huh?” Lester (Lucas?)
demands, stepping closer until Matt’s back is pressed against the wall. Still, Matt scoffs.

“You serious?” he asks incredulously. “Dude, the amount of extra security I needed to
engineer to be able to do this shit from home without getting caught is already insane. You
think I’d be able to do that on a public network? This is some seriously illegal shit we’re
doing, you know.”

Lorenzo scoffs, and Matt realizes that the illegality of their work probably isn’t the biggest
concern on his mind.

“Look,” he says, slowly standing up with his hands raised in surrender. “The money is
coming. I can’t get it without power, but I’ll have power in two days, and you’ll get the other
half as soon as I do.”

He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, watching as Linda shares a look with his
two buff colleagues.

“Have I ever skimped you before?” he tries, shrinking back to look as non-threatening as
possible. “We’ve been doing this for how many years, and yeah, I can be a bit late
sometimes, but don’t I always get you what you’re owed and then some?”

He gives Luigi his best innocent, pliant look.

“Tell you what: I’ll pay you the other half by eleven p.m. on Friday, along with the rest of the
money in my paycheck after I pay off my power bill. That’s ten thousand plus around forty-
five hundred, huh?”

He pauses.

“It’s not like you have anyone else who gets you the same kinda dough I do.”

Librarian looks him up and down, then glances back at the others. Finally, he turns his eyes
back to Matt, and even though he’s glaring Matt feels the tension in his shoulders drop at the
slightly resigned look on his face.

“Fine,” he spits. “But if I don’t get that money before the clock hits eleven on Friday, your
power isn’t the only thing you’ll have to worry about being cut.”

Matt gulps and nods quickly. Lucario scoffs and steps back, jerking his head to his guys.

“C’mon,” he says, “let the little rat crawl home in peace.”

Matt takes a shaky step forward, then another. He stumbles a little as pain shoots up through
his shin, but rights himself just as Leopold turns back to look at him.

“Oh, and Matthew?”

Matt doesn’t have time to open his mouth before a fist slams into it, and he hears his nose
crack on impact as blood fills his mouth. He falls back again, slamming his tailbone hard on
the concrete, coughing and wheezing. Louise leans down and snatches his wallet from his
vest pocket, slipping it into his own jacket.

“Call that insurance.”

With that, Lefty turns and saunters away, followed by his cronies, disappearing down the
alley and out onto the empty streets.

Matt groans at the dull ache that radiates from his broken nose, then turns his head and spits a
glob of blood and saliva onto the pavement. He pulls his goggles down and rubs carefully at
his tender jaw, feeling around with his tongue for broken teeth and breathing out a sigh of
relief when he finds none; he can’t exactly afford any dental work right now.

It takes him a while, but eventually he drags himself to his feet and staggers out of the
alleyway, vest and work shirt splattered with blood, goggles hanging down around his neck.
He looks blearily up at the nearest street sign and sighs when he remembers where he is—
he’d just been walking to the bus stop when the guys ambushed him and dragged him into the
alley. He’s a good thirty minute ride from his place, and without his bus pass…

Blood from his nose dripping down onto his lip, Matt heaves a sigh and starts walking.

It’s well past one in the morning by the time Matt slumps himself through the door of his
apartment, and he only just remembers to lock it behind him before he’s collapsing on his
front in the hall. His whole body hurts, and he groans quietly, nose pressed into the floor.
He’s exhausted, and sore, and he really just wants to fall asleep right here, consequences be
damned.

But, he has the night shift again tomorrow and can’t afford to throw his back out when he’s
gonna spend six hours on his feet, so he drags himself up and shuffles to his bedroom.

The springs on his mattress squeak and groan when he flops heavily onto it, but though it
sags in the middle, it doesn’t collapse just yet. So he kicks his shoes off, throws his goggles
somewhere beside him, and pulls his blanket over him, bloody work clothes and all.

God. His manager is going to kill him.

 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Matt’s manager doesn’t kill him, but he does make him pay for a new uniform when he
shows up claiming it shrunk in the wash, leaving him with only the change in his pocket to
buy a cup of Mr. Noodles and a soda on his way home. It was already getting dark by the
time he got out of work, but when he steps out of the convenience store he realizes that now,
even the light from the moon has dimmed. He looks up and almost groans out loud to see a
thick grey cloud floating in front of the moon, the stars already blotted out. The clouds look
heavy with rain, and he has almost an hour’s walk ahead of him, and Matt thinks that if
lightning were to strike him right now it would be both probable and a mercy.

He’s only just felt the first few raindrops when he sees the lights.

Matt knows this neighbourhood well enough from his commute to work that he knows it’s
way too late at night for traffic. So when he sees the bright headlights casting his shadow
long before him, he turns around to see a car, some sort of van, with its lights turned too
bright slowing down behind him. Matt feels his heart sink; there’s no way it’s Boots and his
guys, they already settled the money issue yesterday. He has Matt’s wallet, it’s not like he’s
gonna skip out on them. Did he change his mind? It wouldn’t be an irrational assumption.

A million possibilities race through Matt’s mind as the van slows to a stop, and he realizes
he’s stopped moving. The lights flash at him, which makes him frown a little; it’s almost a
courteous gesture, not something Boots’ crew would do. He doubts even the drunkest bastard
would be mistaking him for a prostitute, especially in this neighbourhood, and before his
logic can catch up with him, Matt finds himself shuffling down the sidewalk to meet the van
at its rolled-down window.

He knows he’s made a very stupid choice when he sees the driver of the van, clad in a mask
and sunglasses but definitely staring right at him. Matt’s eyes shift to try and see into the seat
behind him, but with the headlights still glaring and the interior light off he can’t tell if
anyone else is in the car besides the driver. The passenger seat is empty, but Matt has a
sneaking suspicion about who’s meant to sit there.

“You, uh, you lost?” Matt speaks up, trying for a smile to mask his uneasiness.

The man doesn’t answer, though he does dim his headlights a bit. Matt glances nervously in
the back seat again.

“I know I’m gorgeous,” he tries again, “but I’m afraid if you’re looking for an escort, you’ve
got the wrong guy.”

There’s a shuffling sound from inside the car, and the man reaches for something in his
pocket. Matt tenses, but he only pulls out a small slip of paper and passes it to him through
the open window.
Making his second stupid decision of the day, Matt gingerly takes the paper from him and
holds it up to his face. It’s almost blank, aside from a single, bold calligraphy letter inked
right in the middle.

Matt stares down at it for what seems like an eternity, mind suddenly racing. No…there’s no
way…

He looks back up at the driver, who (presumably) hasn’t taken his eyes off of him, then down
at the paper again.

The rear door clicks and slowly retracts, showing a back seat with another figure sitting by
the opposite window. Matt looks down at his paper again.

He makes his third, and arguably most, stupid decision and gets in the van.

The door slides shut behind him, faster than it had opened, and Matt barely has time to think
Well, shit before the person beside him grabs him by the front of his shirt and shoves a damp
cloth into his face. The chemical smell burns his nose, and he feels his eyes rolling up in his
head as the doors lock and the van begins to move.

It’s not the first time Matt has woken up bound and blindfolded, but he thinks that this may
be at least one time too many.

He coughs, trying to catch his breath as he bolts upright in his seat. He gets his bearings
quickly, realizing he’s still in the van, but it isn’t moving any longer. He notes after a moment
that, despite being blindfolded, his goggles have been put back on his head over the
blindfold, which he thinks he would find incredibly funny if he weren’t scared shitless right
now.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s terrified for sure, but something tells him that he’s not
going to be dying tonight.

He flexes his fingers, feeling the slip of paper still in his hand.

“Come on.”

A deep voice startles him, and Matt instinctively turns his head to look for the source.
Someone grabs one of his arms and tugs him out of the car, and he yelps as he tries to get his
footing with both hands zip-tied at his front.

“Hey!” he snaps as whoever has ahold of his arm starts pulling him along, making him
stumble as he fights to keep upright, “where do you get off on—”

“Careful with him,” the deep voice snaps from somewhere behind him. Matt’s less-than-
competent guide dog stops.

“He’s valuable,” the voice chides. “Boss wants him in good shape.”
“I’m flattered,” Matt speaks up, annoyance seeping into his tone, “but is anyone going to tell
me what the hell is going on?”

“No,” says the voice, and then Matt is being led forwards again, though this time a bit slower
to let him keep his balance.

He loses track of how long they walk and how many turns they make—not that it would
matter, as he was knocked out for who knows how long and can’t see anything, anyways.
Finally, he’s jerked to a halt, and in front of him he hears a heavy door open just before
whoever’s got the iron grip on his arm yanks him forward a few steps.

The door closes behind him, and finally, Matt feels someone fiddling with the zip ties at his
wrists. His hands fall apart, and he immediately reaches up to pull his goggles down and yank
at his blindfold.

The piece of fabric falls away from his face and flutters to the floor, and Matt blinks rapidly,
trying to adjust to the admittedly dim light of the room he’s been deposited in. Through
bleary eyes, he manages to make out some luxurious-looking furniture, delicate hanging
lights casting the room in a soft, warm glow. When he looks down, he sees he’s standing on
some sort of plush carpeting, his ragged and still slightly bloodstained high tops looking
painfully out of place.

And then, he looks up, and meets the eyes he never thought he would see again.

Mello looks almost laughably different from the last time Matt saw him. His hair is longer,
brushing his bare shoulders, the light casting his skin in an almost golden hue, aside from the
—honestly, very few—parts of his body clad in striking black and red leather. He’s splayed
out over the sleek sofa directly in front of Matt, very unlike the hunched, defensive posture
Matt remembers from their youth. But there’s a chocolate bar in his hand and his eyes are just
as blue as they’ve ever been, and when he looks behind Matt and jerks his chin, he still has
that authoritative air that makes the two guards—one of which Matt swears he glances
holding a gun—shuffle out of the room and shut the door behind them. There’s a gentle but
final thud as the door closes, and then the room is silent.

Matt isn’t sure what Mello is expecting, but he feels like he’s waiting for something; shock,
maybe even fear, some sort of recognition. Matt doesn’t give it to him, though, instead
shoving his hands in his vest pockets and waiting for him to start speaking first.

It gives him some small amount of satisfaction when he sees Mello’s eye twitch, only
slightly, a brief crack in his demeanor. But his face smooths over and he takes a bite of his
chocolate, and Matt suddenly very much wants to hit him.

Finally, after what could easily have been whole minutes of silence, Mello says the first
words he’s said to him in six years.

“You look like shit.”

Mello’s nose makes a very satisfying crack when Matt drives his fist into his face.
Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading :]

 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The way Mello still manages to look cool and intimidating even with a bloody tissue stuck up
his nose makes Matt wish he had just cut to the chase and kicked him in the balls. However,
his gut still hurts from Mello kicking him with his goth torture contraptions he’s apparently
passing as shoes, so he simply wallows on the comfortable sofa and glares at Mello, perched
on the arm of the chair across from him.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Mello says after the long few minutes of silence that followed
Matt’s violent depositing onto the couch. “What sort of a greeting is that for an old friend?”

“Fuck you, Mihael,” Matt spits. He catches Mello’s eye twitch and smirks to himself; at least
he can still get under his skin.

“I’m flattered,” Mello says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I brought you here for
something important, and I have other things to do today so I’d rather get the technicalities
out of the way as soon as possible.”

There’s about a million things Matt wants to say to that, but the only thing he ends up getting
out is: “It’s the middle of the night.”

Mello quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he snips. “Is it past your bedtime?”

“You know what? Yeah, it is.” Matt stands from the couch and crosses his arms, giving Mello
his best deadpan glare. “I have a job I need to be at by ten in the morning, so whatever
psycho bullshit you brought me here for is going to have to wait. Preferably, forever.”

He doesn’t know why he turns to leave. He’s been thinking about Mello almost nonstop for
the last six years, and now his best friend who Matt had no reason to believe wasn’t lost or
dead is sitting right in front of him. Matt thinks they both know he’s not leaving this room.

Still, when he reaches for the door handle, Mello says, “Wait.”

Matt stalls, hand resting on the handle. There’s a few tense moments of silence before he
hears Mello sigh, almost inaudibly.

“I have a favour to ask of you.”

Matt spins around so fast he almost falls over.

“A favour?” he demands, looking at Mello in disbelief. He has to be joking, but he looks

completely serious, and Matt wonders if he somehow punched the sense out of him.
“Yes.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Matt laughs incredulously, pressing a hand to his forehead and shaking his
head. “You’re asking me for a favour?”

Mello is starting to look impatient, which is a small comfort.

“What of it?”

“Mello,” he says, speaking slowly so Mello can maybe understand him, “you left me at the
orphanage for six goddamn years. No contact whatsoever. I thought you were dead.”

Mello scowls.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Unbelievable,” Matt shakes his head again, “un-fucking-believable.”

He crosses his arms and glares Mello down, setting his jaw.

“You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what the fuck gives you the right to ask me for a favour,
or I’m walking out right now.”

He’s not. He has no idea where he is. But he’s so fucking mad that he’s willing to walk
however many hundreds of miles he could possibly be from home, and Mello must be able to
tell, because he sighs tightly through his nose and stands.

“I have an offer for you,” he says carefully. “I’m working a case, and there are things I need
done that I think only you could do.”

Matt stares at him. He has to be joking, or leading Matt on, or something. But he looks dead
serious, and Matt runs a hand down his face and sinks into the nearest chair.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Maybe it’s his tone of voice, or his body language, or whatever, but Mello seems to sense an
opening. He takes a seat on the chair across from him and leans his forearms on his knees,
lacing his fingers together.

“I guess I should give you the rundown.”

No fucking shit.

Matt really, really wishes he were more surprised by the information that Mello drops on
him. Apparently, he’s just at a point in his life where his formerly MIA best friend can
casually tell him he joined the mafia to get his claws into the criminal underbelly, that he has
killed people, and that he’s down a hacker since their last got shot up in a job gone wrong,
and the most reaction Matt can muster is: “Well, you’ve been busy.”
Mello looks pleased, and Matt bites the inside of his cheek and crosses his arms.

“I knew you were the right person for this.”

Matt’s not stupid, and Mello’s not bothering to hide anything.

“You expect me to be your new tech and possibly get pumped full of lead, after not speaking
to me for six years and with no earthly reason for why I should even be sitting here listening
to you right now.”

It’s not a question.

Mello doesn’t answer right away. He stands and wanders over to one of the side tables,
grabbing two glasses and the bottle of wine next to them. He pops the cork easily and pours
them each a glass, setting one down on the table in front of Matt before lounging back on the
sofa again with his own in hand, staring at him over the rim.

“I never said I wouldn’t give you a reason,” he says simply. “I just wanted to see how you’d
react to the information. And the fact that you recognized the proposal without me officially
posing it means you’re interested, even if only slightly.”

“That’s bullshit logic and you know it,” Matt shoots back. He glances down at the wine in
front of him and wrinkles his nose; he’s never been a wine guy. Too expensive for too little
payoff in the ‘getting fucked up’ department. Figures Mello’s into it, though, performative
prick.

Speaking of…

“So, when exactly’d you get into…” Matt waves a hand vaguely, loosely gesturing over
Mello’s leather-clad form. “All this?”

Mello sips his wine and shrugs. He rolls the beads from his rosary between his gloved fingers
absently.

“After I left Wammy’s.”

“Well no shit,” Matt snorts. “I think I would’ve noticed if I was rooming with a dominatrix.”

Mello shakes his head and scoffs.

“You’re a pig.”

“And you’re insane,” Matt shoots back. “You literally kidnap me after abandoning me for six
years and expect me to join the mafia for you. I always knew you were a lunatic, but christ
Mel, this is a whole ‘nother level.”

“But you’re still sitting here,” Mello points out. “You’re calling me Mel. Some part of you
wants this.”
The phrasing makes Matt’s skin prickle, and he swallows involuntarily. If Mello notices, he
doesn’t say anything; he just swirls his drink lazily in one hand and drapes his elbow over the
back of the couch.

The thing about Mello is, he knows how to talk. He plays people like Matt plays games,
presses the right buttons to get what he wants, without ever jeopardizing his own pride. So,
instead of saying I need your help, or I missed you, or even fucking please, he just takes a sip
of his drink and says, “I can make it worth your while.”

And damn Matt straight to hell, but something about Mello sitting splayed out over his fancy
sofa dressed like that, holding a glass of wine and giving him a dark look through sharp blue
eyes, makes his skin crawl. And not entirely in a bad way.

“Elaborate,” he says lamely.

Mello shrugs.

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble since I left,” he says. “You always were the
type to let people walk on you, huh?”

“Bullshit,” Matt snaps, metaphorical hackles raising.

Mello raises a sculpted brow.

“Really? Just how much do you owe to Lucius Craw and his gang by now?”

Well, at least Matt remembers his name now. But more importantly…

“How do you know about that?” he asks tersely. It’s not really a question he needs to ask, he
supposes; with all Mello’s told him tonight, he shouldn’t be surprised. But the fact that
Mello’s had eyes on him for who knows how long and is only just now making contact puts a
sour taste in Matt’s mouth.

“If I remember correctly,” Mello continues, tapping his chin mockingly, “the last time you
tried to get out of your contract, they beat you within an inch of your life and left you in a
ditch. Or was it a river?”

“I can handle myself,” Matt hisses. He stands from the chair and closes the distance between
them, glaring down at Mello.

“Listen,” he says, “if you think I’m gonna come crawling back to you now, if you think I’m
gonna get myself killed because of your stupid ego, you’re fucking nuts. You think you’re
any better than Lucius? Get over yourself.”

Mello just blinks up at him calmly, which makes his irritation spike. He steps back and turns
on his heel, before pausing and turning back. Grabbing his untouched drink, he looks straight
into Mello’s eyes as he upturns the glass, sending wine splashing onto the expensive carpet.

Mello gives absolutely no reaction, and Matt decides he’s done enough waiting around. He
storms to the door and shoves it open, ignoring his two captors standing on either side and
 stomping off down the hallway he’s mostly sure he came down.

It takes Matt ten minutes to get out of the building, and one glance around confirms that he
has absolutely no clue where he is. He doesn’t care, though, heading in a random direction
and not looking back.

His fists are clenched at his sides until he reaches the nearest bus stop, and he instinctively
reaches into his back pocket before remembering that Lucius still has his wallet.

Groaning internally, Matt desperately shoves his hand into his vest pocket to see if he has any
spare change. His fingers brush something heavy, and he freezes for a solid ten seconds
before slowly pulling his wallet out and staring blankly down at it.

He doesn’t have time to process his shock before the headlights of the bus turn the corner,
and he has to quickly fumble for his bus pass.

It’s not until Matt is slumped down in the back of the bus, trying to decide whether it’s worth
it to check the bus route on his phone or if he should just take a nap and see where he ends
up, that he realizes that there’s a piece of paper neatly tucked into his wallet, right behind his
ID. It’s the same thick sort of paper that Mello’s lackey handed him earlier, and Matt would
recognize that long, loopy scrawl anywhere.

Tuesday, 10.15 a.m.

Call this number after signing:

Matt doesn’t bother reading the phone number before he rips the paper into pieces and shoves
it into his shoe.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading! This is a fun lighter project to work on, I'm enjoying it a lot so
far ^^
End Notes

Thank you for reading! This work will probably have shorter chapters than some of my
others given the pacing, but I hope you like it!
-
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Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!