"Aah," Mello sighed happily as he walked out of his room in new, skintight, black leather pants. "There is nothing like newly-bought leather pants in the morning, eh, Matt?"
The couch potato didn't answer, but instead, paused his video game and gave Mello a long, weirded out look. He stared for a few minutes, thinking for a way to tell his co-worker and friend that leather pants were no longer in style, and made him look like a pedophile anyway.
"Why don't you ever get regular, baggy pants? You're always complaining that you're not gay, so why not stop dressing like it?" Matt stated, unpausing his video game and tapping the buttons, giving Mello the time to think of something smart to say. Mello scowled bitterly at him and picked up a foil-wrapped candy bar off the coffee table.
"Because, Matt," He began his explanation in a matter-of-fact tone, "Regular, baggy pants would interfere with my movement if I ever had to fight or sneak in somewhere," Mello scanned Matt for anything to bug him about, "at least I'm color-coordinated. You look like the rainbow threw up all over you." Mello finished, looking rather pleased with himself that he had proved a point, and could move about his day as if he weren't criticized about his choice in clothing. He strode into the kitchen to make himself some breakfast (he didn't always eat only chocolate, unlike his role model; He ate real food, too).
Matt snorted in return at the last comment. "Mature word choice for a mafia leader, Mello. You're setting a great example for the newbies in the business." He complimented sarcastically, not looking up from the small screen. "Would it kill you to have a pair of pants that doesn't make you look like you own a gay nightclub or that don't look like they're going to rip every time you sit down?"
Mello released air out of his mouth in irritation. If Matt was so annoyed about his preference in pants, then why doesn't he just ask his size and buy him new ones? It wasn't so hard to just go up to your friend and ask "Hey, what size pants do you wear?" Didn't he have anything better to do than to sit around playing video games and give fashion advice?
"Matt," Mello called, addressing the lazy gamer once again, "If you're so annoyed with my fashion, why don't you just drag me shopping with you?"
"Because you would pitch a fit at me and complain that I dragged you along for no reason and could just as easily ask your size. I know you better than you think I do, Mello, and you would not come willingly."
Mello decided to just ignore that last sentence and pretend it wasn't a creepy thought. He pulled his leftover miso soup from the microwave and walked over to sit down on the couch.
"Well, if all you're going to do is sit on the couch playing that damn video game, why don't you make yourself useful and take me shopping?"
"Did I hear right? Did the self-righteous pants king actually take my advice and ask me to take him shopping for something other than tight pants?" Matt asked, pausing his game again and looking mock-surprised at Mello. Mello shot Matt an annoyed look, and spat,
"Shut up before I change my mind."
Matt smirked as he shut off the small console and set it down on the table in front of him. For once, he had won an argument against Mello, and probably wouldn't lat him forget it anytime soon.