I went to a funeral the other day and the casket was a pretty blue color with all these silver designs on the side, looking very unnecessary. It's going to look good 6 feet under where nobody can see it.

Title: It's What I do

Chapter:

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or the characters.

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I remember those long car drives. It was so peaceful in dad's beat up little car, driving down the highway at 3 in the morning; but at first it was not at all what I would call peaceful, or any other synonym. As things go, though, the drunken mumbles that came from the back seat every once and a while just became background music.

When I was young, my dad never came home at all really, but one day he brought me on his grand all night adventure. I was 7. Anyway, so we get to this building that makes me want to gouge my eyes out, and when I get out of the car, Dad just makes a B line straight for it. I've always wondered how that car in the parking lot stopped so fast, mere inches from my father when it did so. Later that night and in the following days I would wonder what would have happened if it hadn't have stopped.

But, whatever, the shitty thing did, and I was left standing there.

I hesitantly followed him in after a minute, and was only in there for a couple seconds before reasoning that I lost him, and just went back out, and started wandering around. I think that was the time I first met that crazy tech guy that basically lived in the alley next to the bar.

Fabulous, right?

Crazy homeless guy with many shiny and usually not so shiny gadgets, meet an impressionable 7 year old.

Impressionable 7 year old, meet what is sadly the best adult influence you have.

Days went on like this, I would go to the bar with my father, go to the ally, and listen to what the crazy guy had to say about how things work. Every once and a while he would let me take apart something new he had stolen. After having my daily lesson, I would push through those putrid doors, go to exactly the same spot where he would be sitting with his head on the counter, hand still grasping an empty glass.

Sling'em over my shoulder, say 'See ya tomorrow night' to the bartender, and put him in the back seat.

That.



That's when I would have my peaceful time after a couple times. The first couple of times doing this, I was too afraid that the cops would take me as a drunk person trying to drive a car. Actually...The drunk guy was in the back seat, his 8 year old kid was in the front seat, craning his head to look over the stirring wheel. But anyways, the drives back home would be longer, I would take my time and go on different routes, enjoying the practically empty roads in front of me.

Times changed though, and the one night I didn't say 'See you tomorrow'... I never heard a sound from him the entire car ride.

How could he? Was I no good? A good for nothing bastard kid who he got stuck with because he wasn't man enough to suffocate me when I was a baby? That bastard. Making me live this fucked up life.

What a shitty father. Probably sat there looking at me in my crib, trying to work up the courage to just put that pillow from the couch over my head and press.

Wait a second...

I never had a crib. So I guess that never happened.

Oh, whatever, but after he died-...

What? Why am I talking about this? Well-

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Matt stood there in the present in only his boxers, clothes piled up on the kitchen table. A couple steps in front of him stood the blonde, still holding the gun straight for his heart.

Why was he thinking about his childhood? Well, it seemed to take his mind off the fact that he was standing there almost naked with a gun trained on a vital organ. Because, you know, he's not one of those people who would enjoy that kind of thing. Weird, I know.

"Why-"

"Shut the fuck up,"

Okay. He didn't have a problem with that.

After a couple seconds, Mello kind of just gave him a look, before lowering his weapon. A breath that didn't know it was being held in, escaped. After a couple of seconds, Mello glanced at Matt again and then put his gun on the end table behind his kitchen chair, sitting down. Another second passed.

"Who are you?"

"..My name is Matt,"



"Matt, huh?" Mello cocked an eyebrow, seeing how tense the guy in front of him was. So, being Mello, he reached into the pile and started to look through pockets.

"Wait a seco-" the red head said, reaching out and taking a step towards the blonde before freezing where he stood at the glare shot at him.

In one jeans pocket, Mello pulled out a few crinkled bills and a receipt. Out of the other pocket he pulled a folded up piece of paper and placed it in the pile to be looked at later. In the vest pockets he pulled out an almost empty(and very cruddy looking) cigarette box, a weird looking lighter, a cell phone, and then...

Mello looked at what was in his hand, a slight jingling echoing through the room, making Matt's stomach clench uncomfortably.

"Where'd you get this?"

When he looked up to the other, he could see the almost hidden panic in his face.

Matt's mouth opened to answer that, but Mello cut him off with a sigh.

"Never mind, you were going to lie anyway..." he explained in a bored tone, stretching out. "Weren't you?" he said as if it wasn't a question, but a statement that was the absolute truth.

The gamer decided not to answer.

Not even seeing Mello move, Matt's pants were thrown at his face, him just standing there with them on his head from the shock for a split second.

"Get dressed," the blonde said, getting up and going back to the couch, stretching out on it and relaxing like a cat that will rip your face off if provoked...Yeah. Kind of like that.

'Snap'

The red head just stood there for a second, jeans in his hands, looking at them and then Mello like he didn't know what he was supposed to do with them. Mello didn't say anything, so Matt just did as he was told, slipping on his pants, tugging his shirt back over his head, and started to put each item in the same pocket.

There was the sound of ripping paper, and when Matt looked, Mello was holding out a small slip of paper, looking at the red head with his eyes narrowed. Walking over as he was pulling his gloves on, the now goggle wearing male took the paper in one hand, looking at it and then looking back at the one who gave him it.

"Since you want to be here so bad, you pass the exam. You will cook if you know how; pick up a list of things that I will write on this notepad on rare occasion, usually I will just tell you; pay your half of the rent; and I should tell you that if you don't do as I say, I'm not responsible for any injury inflicted,"



He had to admit, Matt was a little taken aback on how smoothly Mello recounted what had probably been replaying through his head if he had found somebody he might consider as a roommate seriously.

Now knowing what it was, the goggled male looked down at what was in his hands, and without looking up said: "I'll go get my stuff,"

The whole way to his car to get his things, his subconscious was urging him to just jump into his car when he got there, and go on one of those long peaceful drives.

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Mello was leaning in the doorway, the only thing warning the person he was watching he was a violent snap .

The red head twitched at the noise, knowing what would be asked.

"What's all this shit?"

There it was.

Everywhere in the room that had been provided for him that was next to Mello's were gadgets of all sorts, from games to gear turning old alarm clocks, to taken apart Furby's and a cookoo clocks that only shows the gizmos working inside. Some parts in various things looking like they had been added to make them look even more complicated.

Matt looked around as if this was the first time seeing everything for the first time. "A lot of things," he said simply, making Mello start gnawing on his chocolate a bit.

"No fucking way," he said as he pushed off the door frame and walked away to where Matt guessed was the living room.

After about 5 minutes of Mello enjoying his time stretched out on the couch and the occasional rustle and clang of things moving two rooms away; the clattering began to get closer, the growing noise making Mello curiously open his eye to see a large nest of wires, controllers, a few systems, and even more wires. The mess descended to the floor in front of the T.V., one of Mello's invisible eyebrows raised in suspicion.

When everything had settled on the ground, a mop of red popped up and begun to untangle itself from its bindings.

"What do you think you're doing?"



Matt turned around to look at him, still tangled up in the wires, and pulling one over his head while he began to speak: "I want to play my games here, or is this a sacred t.v. that cannot be tainted by my foul outlets of entertainment?"

The leather clad boy glared at him for a second, tempted to say that yes, indeed, it was a sacred t.v., because it was his and everything that is his is sacred, so he can't taint it with his foul outlet of entertainment. But...He didn't, because he didn't feel like it accomplished anything by saying all of that.

So, instead, he said, "Whatever," and got comfortable on the couch with a book in one hand, resting on his tummy, and the other holding another bar of chocolate to his teeth.

The gamer took that as "Go ahead!" and situated himself in front of the couch, his back resting slightly on Mello's side, which only half of his conscious focused on, the other half was trying to figure out how many monsters was in this area so that he can go kick Slepner and get his blessing for 6 monsters to lose half health points in-

/35 minutes later/

Despite monsters cursing in their own little monster speak every 5 seconds, Mello somehow forced himself to try to sleep, during this time, Matt needed to go back to town to check his mail, which was pretty boring compared to what he was doing. While waiting for the epically long loading page to go away and show his mail, Matt's mind began to wander, wondering what Mello was doing. Turning around, Matt found a half relaxed looking face, slightly turned to face him, and he felt his stomach clench again.

This was bad.

/One week later/

Matt was coming back from one of his errands that Mello had fallen into habit of making him do, which didn't make sense because when he came back, his roommate would usually be gone. The stripe clad boy thought this was also one of these times, so he didn't even bother calling out that he had gotten what Mello told him to.

Lazily, he just plopped the bags on the counter, and pulled off his boots, beginning to head towards his room to tweak a couple programs he had been working on last night. Of course he would have, but when he passed Mello's room, he heard the sound of calm breathing. Curious, he opened the door another crack, causing the triangle of light that had been filtering through, to become a skinny rectangle, shining next to the side of the bed that Matt was very certain that Mello was sleeping on.

Looking down the hallway as if somebody was going to catch him doing something he shouldn't be, he quietly stepped into the room, looking around at the plain darkness for the first time since he had been there.



After looking at everything else, he forced his eyes to look down to why he went in. Nervousness prickled through his entire being.

What if this person who was allowing him to stay here woke up?

What if he assumed something that isn't true?

...

Would he get kicked out of this place, after only a week...?

Eyes half open behind his goggles because he wasn't paying attention anymore, he reached out and his hand was centimeters away from his skin, when he stopped.

No.

Not again.

What was he doing?

His eyes couldn't be torn away from where his hand was trying to touch, to reach out to, to be able to hold; and so-...

Lightly, as if he were going to touch something fragile, he let his hand rest on the side of the blonde's face, his eyes watching nervously for any sign of consciousness. After a second, he felt like he had a huge weight lifted off of him, and when he turned to leave-...

Matt couldn't look back.

He couldn't.

What was it?

Please don't let it be Mello.

Pretty please don't let it be Mello.

Oh god, I will repent for whatever sins I have committed, just don't let that be-

When Matt finally(but very slowly) turned to see why he could move his hand, he cursed.

Cursed his curiosity and whatever force came over him and made him do that.

Cursed his mind for telling him that Mello was asleep the whole time.

Cursed the bolt he stepped on that morning. It really hurt.

Cursed himself for not calling out that he was back home, then Mello might have gotten up.



Cursed all those life sim games that didn't prepare him for this moment.

But of course, what could prepare someone for a full on glaring Mello, that held your wrist in a death grip, the very same hand that had just been 'caressing'(if you want to call it that) his cheek meer seconds ago.

Quickly, while Matt was still coming out of his stupor, Mello slid to his feet, grabbed Matt's other wrist, and began to walk towards him, making the red head automatically want to back up, eventually running him into a wall, both wrist held above his head.

"What the fuck were you doing?" Mello said in his regular tone of voice, though, if looks could kill-

"I-..don't know," he answered honestly, feeling his face burn from embarrassment he didn't know where he was getting.

Mello gave him a look that basically said 'What-the-fuck-do-you-mean-you-don't-know'; but then his face twisted with thought, as he glanced up at where he held Matt's wrists.

"Are you afraid of me? Or..." Mello said with a tone Matt couldn't identify.

Not knowing what the leather clad other was getting at, the red head started shaking his head.

In the middle of Matt's delirious and mixed up thoughts, his awareness suddenly realized that his new roommate was very close to him.

Cheeks turning a tiny shade darker because of his now furiously pounding heart, Matt didn't know what was happening anymore.

What was he doing here?

Why was Mello holding him?

Had he stopped shaking his head?

Why?

In the middle of this basically 'Matt's-brain-just-snapped', Mello gave him a queer look, letting go of his once held captive wrists.

His mind started to clear, his heart starting to slow, and his stomach felt not as strongly funny as it had before, but what made all of these things happen, left a hole inside his consciousness, making it more difficult for the red head to breathe.

'What is this..feeling.'

...



...

...

'Montuer...?'

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Did I tell you yet that I'm a lazy ass?

Oh, and thanks for the reveiws.

Oh...and this is also the time for you to review again, this time everyone gets to, even though it's a known fact that if you review you're 'da bomb' in my eyes, bb's.