A Fatal Diversion
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Death Note In Any Way.
Rating: PG-15 and Older Due to Crude Language, Attempts of Suicide, Use of Cigarettes and Yaoi/Shonen-Ai/GuyxGuy.
A/N: My first Death Note fan-fiction also happens to be my first yaoi fan-fiction XD I feel so special. Well, since you've read this, some will turn away and I'm grateful that you chose not to read because I really don't want to hear any bitching about why you don't like Shonen-Ai. To those who, for their own stupid reason, must flame, here's a bit of advice; if you don't like it, don't read it. If you choose to flame on this, you will be ignored and, be warned, I won't be afraid to report you. As for the ones who DO like it and will comment nicely or just stop by even, I thank you and I hope you enjoy.
Another little note, this is kind of a what-if fic. It takes place after the Kira case is solved and if Matt and Mello managed to live.
The Sun was blocked by the several grey clouds above and the sky itself had taken a light grey in color. It was a somewhat windy day but somehow still a little warm. Golden blonde hair flailed slightly in front of deep blue eyes that afternoon. A scar of an old burn wound could easily feel the strands tickling upon it as the eyes stared out to the cityscape before them, their bearer obviously lost in his own thoughts with a scowl on his face. Pitch-black feathers also danced with the wind along with the blonde hair, teasing the young man's face like his hair did.
This had become Mello's newest diversion. To simply stand on the roof of the building where he was currently residing, wear one of his favorite jackets, and simply stare into the nothingness that was Tokyo's city; just to think and reminisce. His leather-covered arms were currently crossed and the look on his face was like a statue; never changing, except to blink that is. As much as he hated to recall the horrible things he called memories, he just couldn't help but think that, in less than twenty-four hours, he lost it all.
Little over a year ago, the scar upon his face didn't even exist; his face was flawless, with deep, piercing blue eyes that could cut a deep wound into your very soul. Leather clung to just about every inch of his body, except for the small slit just above his hips, where his shirt and pants usually never met, and his bare arms, too, when he wasn't wearing a furred jacket. His hands always had short, leather gloves on them, covering the fingers and hiding them from unworthy eyes. Everything about him was ritzy and expensive. He used to own several jackets made of leather, which, alone, could indicate their worth but most had some kind of fur or feathers on the collar or hood, which only increased their value. Back when he was in the Mafia, his haircut, alone, was worth more than any average man's salary. His gun was made of fine materials, with a golden cross hanging from its handle, and only the best bullets were allowed to be shot from its barrel.
In one day, he lost it all; his power, his money, his connections, and his precious coats which would indicate his status and true importance. His hair had grown little over an inch and was messier now more than ever. His eyes, one of them shrouded with a harsh scar, were burdened with pain, anger, and betrayal. The leather on him now was one of the few outfits he still had before that faithful day. And the jacket was his favorite that he was grateful to still have with him; the black feathers around his collar were mysterious but somehow still comforting. It was just a part of him that he refused to let go.
For the first time in about half an hour, he finally moved. His eyes closed, his head hanging low, a sigh escaped his lips. As if all that wasn't bad enough, Near was the new L; the little bastard had solved the Kira case before him and, of course, became L's successor. Opening his eyes again, he let both arms fall to his sides as he leaned forward and then rested an arm on his knee, which now came up in front of him as his foot met with the small ledge of the roof. He looked to the street below and could easily make out his motorcycle; he loved that thing. It wasn't just something he used for transportation; he loved going down a straight street so fast that the wind hurt him until he became numb. It was almost as good as chocolate.
Speaking of his sweet addiction, he hadn't had any of it in…two days now, was it? He didn't remember anymore but the lack of it was bothering him. He didn't bug Matt about it, even though the redhead was usually the one to go and buy him some every now and then…more like whenever he needed it. The blonde sighed; he had given Matt the choice to kick him out of his apartment two days ago, exactly when his chocolate stopped being served to him by his loyal companion. He suddenly asked himself why in the hell he had done that; it's not like the chocoholic had anywhere to go, he was fucking broke. A growl escaped from his throat.
Matt didn't say anything that day; Mello took his silence as an 'I'll think about it.' So far, he didn't like it; for all he knew, Matt could be in his room right now, packing his shit up just to kick his sorry ass out of his life. The blonde's eyes tensed and a crazy thought suddenly clouded his mind. He wondered if a fall from his current height to the harsh ground below could kill him. Not the most creative way, perhaps the most overplayed method, but at least it got the job done. It was either that or a bullet to his head, and he didn't feel like wasting bullets.
His blue eyes dared to look over the rim of the building; if a fall from here didn't kill him then God really just wanted him to suffer. What good is living if everything you ever fought for backfired right in your face? Literally.
Just as he was about to climb up on the ledge, he heard the sound of the entrance to the roof opening behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that it was Matt, wearing a pair of orange goggles with black frames, of course, and a striped black and white shirt with his long gloves. A pair of jeans covered his legs, as well as his high-top boots. The goggles were either new or he hadn't worn them very often but Mello found it odd that he wasn't wearing his fur vest. He shrugged it off.
"Hey Mels," the redhead greeted him as he walked up to the blonde. "What's up?" He pulled out a small cigarette box from his back pocket, along with a small lighter the same orange as his goggles. When he finally stood next to Mello, he stopped and pulled out a cig and then put it between his lips and held it there before lighting it, hunching forward slightly and protecting the flame from getting blown out with his gloved hand. It lit and he took a deep inhale of the nicotine filter before exhaling a small puff of smoke that floated away into the Tokyo air. He turned to Mello, showing him the small pack.
"Cigarette?" he asked with an almost hopeful tone to his voice. Mello scrunched his nose in disgust and turned back to the cityscape.
"No thanks," he responded icily. Matt hid the box back in his pocket, along with the lighter.
"More for me," he said playfully. Mello rolled his eyes.
"Must you smoke those things near me?" he questioned.
"You told me to start smoking outside," Matt explained, knowing very well he was pushing the blonde's buttons.
"What's wrong with the balcony?" Mello retorted with a glare in his eyes.
"Better view here," Matt responded with a smile. "Not to mention, you've been up here for a while now; I got worried." This surprised Mello a bit. Shrugging it off, he looked back to the city tensely.
"I'm just thinking…" he responded distantly. Matt raised a brow at this and let free another cloud of smoke.
"What's on your mind?" the gamer asked, crossing an arm across his chest and resting the cig-holding arm upon it while locking a hip to one side and awaiting the answer. It was silent for a few moments as the blonde to his right simply leaned forward on his knee and looked out with those piercing blue eyes. From the corner of his eye, Matt looked to his friend's blue orbs; he read him like an open book just like that before looking out to the city as well.
"You still miss that life, don't you?" he asked softly. Mello turned his eyes to him, glaring as he did. He saw the redhead blow out another puff of smoke, nonchalantly, might he add.
"You tell me," he responded heatedly. "Just imagine, one day you're on top, the closest thing to number one you've ever been and, with the flick of a finger, you get whatever you want without question. Power, money, influence, and connections that could let you take advantage of nearly everyone in your city; almost an equal to Kira. Now, the next day, all of that is gone; not a fucking penny to your name, no influence or power, and everyone you used to know just wants to see you dead…you're nothing but a damn spec on the windshield of life…" His gloved fists were trembling now, as well as his tense-ridden eyes.
Matt kept an impassive look on his face. He had never been in that position before; he had always been a spec. All he could do was try to grasp and understand Mello's pain. He said nothing, however, and continued smoking his cigarette. He wouldn't lie to the blonde or patronize him by saying he could still succeed because he knew it would just anger him; he couldn't try to comfort him in any way. All he could do was sit there and listen; be the one person Mello could actually trust with such information. He suddenly remembered something, though; something that may make his friend feel, at least, a little better.
"Hey," he mumbled sympathetically. Mello turned his head to him with a full-on glare in his eyes. Matt still managed to smile at him. "I got you something." The gamer reached into his left pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate and offered it to the blonde. Mello widened his eyes and there was a small pause between them before Mello quickly snatched the sweet away from him and ripped off the silvery wrapper, immediately biting off one of the many small rectangles and letting it melt in his mouth. Pure ecstasy.
"Thank you, God, for small miracles," the blonde mumbled gratefully as he continued to enjoy his delicious treat. Matt chuckled a little.
"I'm sorry I forgot to buy you some; I was kind obsessed with beating my game," he apologized nervously. Mello looked at him through the corner of his eyes, a new chocolate rectangle held between his lips.
"You just forgot?" he questioned curiously, somehow managing to hold the sweet between his teeth and talk at the same time. Quickly chewing and swallowing the treat, he continued. "You mean you were never thinking of kicking me out?" Matt raised a red brow at this and looked at the blonde incredulously.
"Kick you…Mels, what are you talking about?" he questioned, obviously still confused by this.
"Two days ago, when you were playing on the couch, I said you could get rid of me if you wanted…that I'd already caused you enough problems…" he looked down to the heaven-sent chocolate that Matt had given him, his eyes showing some form of what seemed to be sadness. Matt, however, was looking back in his memory bank, while taking a few puffs of his cig, to that day before it finally hit him.
"Is that what you were saying that day?" he asked with a thumb to his lips. "I couldn't hear you then," he informed him. Mello's eyes fell, annoyed.
"What?" How come?" he demanded, taking another bite of his chocolate afterwards. It was about halfway gone already.
"I was using my headphones," the gamer explained with a small grin as he pointed to his left ear. "The small, plug ones…didn't you see them?" Mello could've hit his friend upside the head for this. He should've hit him. He took another bite of coco to calm himself, if only slightly.
"Your damn hair's too long, how would I have seen them!?" he yelled, his voice angrier than usual. From behind his goggles, Matt looked up to the bit of hair he had hanging in front of his eyes. He could also feel that his hair, at the sides of his head, reached just below his ears but was scattered, unlike Mello whose hair reached about halfway down his neck. He took a deep puff of his cigarette and set free of the cloud of smoke.
"My hair's not that long…" he responded silently. "Certainly not as bad yours," he added. Mello shrugged; as if he really wanted to hear this crap. His eyes strayed to the edge of the building again; falling from here was suddenly very tempting, just to let himself go down, since it seemed like he'd already hit rock-bottom. Just to go a little further would let him know that he hadn't hit that low just yet. It would be just like riding his bike; the wind would hit him so hard that it hurt…until he became numb. Then maybe, just maybe, the actual part of reaching his lowest low wouldn't hurt so much. He finished off his treat then.
The blonde then began stepping back but then stopped as he remembered that Matt was right there; surely the redhead would either try to stop him or save him. He preferred neither. Staring into his orange-tinted eyes might make him reconsider not dying. The blonde hung his head once more, hiding his eyes with his strands of golden hair. Damn it all if it didn't hurt to be in his position. He wanted his money back, his influence, and his importance. He wanted people to cringe at the sound of his name or even an aluminum wrapper being ripped open. Most of all, he just wanted something to live for.
He had nothing; nothing but a gun that was barely loaded and only a few of his previous clothes before the incident. The azure-eyed young man brought his head up once more, looking straight ahead to the edge of the building. Wind blew his hair in front of his burdened eyes and time just seemed to slow down for a few seconds. Matt's inhaling of his cigarette could be heard as a cloud of his smoke disappeared into the air moments afterwards. Birds in the distance flapped their wings vigorously to fly away from their own problems; because they could…because they had that privilege.
The blonde took a step back, and then another.
Another two steps.
Two, no, four more steps back.
Time returned to normal and, with the freedom of a deep sigh from Mello, the blonde quickly stripped away his feathered jacket and broke into a run, his boots pounding heavily on the concrete below his feet. It would all be over soon. And he'd finally be able to fly from his problems as well, just like the birds. Forgetting his supposed religion, forgetting his burdens…forgetting Matt…all he could do was run, his feet becoming numb with each pounding step. This truly would decide his fate.
It seemed Fate had different plans, however.
Before he could jump onto the ledge, the blonde felt himself being pushed to his right side from his left, by something that collided with him with just as much force; his eyes widened at this.
No…! He thought desolately as he soon felt himself on the ground, with whatever had pushed him down atop of him. He could feel the sting of his shoulder from the concrete rubbing harshly against it but it paled in comparison to the pain of yet another failure. He leaned up on his elbows, immediately sending daggers in the direction of whoever had ruined his attempt on his own life. His eyes widened, still glaring, however, at the sight of a certain redhead gamer who had just gotten to his knees and palms, shaking his head slightly.
"Matt!?" the blue-eyed blonde breathed heatedly. The tech looked up to him, his orange-tinted eyes expressing just as much anger as Mello from behind a shock of red hair. He was surprised to see that he didn't have a cig hanging from his mouth.
"Are you crazy!?" he demanded, his voice yelling in a much louder voice than his usual hushed tones. "What were you thinking!?" Mello sat up and tried to respond. What could he tell Matt? That he was tired of living of pointless life? The crimson-haired younger wouldn't buy that for a second and, even if he did, he'd probably find it stupid. He found it getting hard to talk, to breathe…he could barely think.
His eyes shut closed and he just sucked it up. Reopening his blue orbs, he glared. He suddenly remembered his Mafia days; he didn't like to be the one under interrogation and anyone who got in his way usually had a gun pointed to their head by this time. He pulled an arm back and tried to punch Matt right in the jaw but missed; the gamer had more agility than Mello thought. The redhead backed up and ducked onto the floor before the hit could register. Not that Mello really cared for hitting him; the blonde stood immediately and, once again, headed to the ledge.
He was stopped for a second time by a pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around his underarms and shoulders, holding him back mere feet away from that fall. It appeared Matt was also faster than Mello gave him credit for. He refused to stop struggling, though. Nostrils flaring and eyes dripping with hatred, the blonde fought desperately to get free but to no avail. The tech behind him was of bigger build, completely stronger than Mello's weaker, skinnier stature.
Matt managed to pull the blonde in front of him back. Mello almost lost his balance but, even when he stood upright, he barely had time to react as a black, gloved fist came straight towards his face. His 'loyal' companion punched him, just as Mello would've punched him only moments ago. The hit dazed the blonde for a few moments as he staggered backwards and eventually leaned on a small structure, the AC system of the building, for support, a leather-gloved hand to where Matt had hit him.
Pulling his hand away, he was surprised to see his own blood smeared across the material of his glove. He looked up to Matt; even from behind the goggles, Mello could see that redhead hadn't meant to hit him that hard but was still glad he had done it. His eyes, even with that damn accessory, could be so telling. The blonde glared and then headed towards his adversary; revenge was imminent. No one got away with making his blood flow and Matt was no exception.
However, Matt's speed and reaction time was at its peak; he ducked immediately and missed the strike completely. He then lunged himself to the blonde's torso, wrapping his arms around him and making both of them land on the ground a few feet away from where they stood previously, Matt atop of the former Mafia leader. Quickly regaining his composure, the gamer straddled his friend and pinned his arms down, preventing escape entirely. He panted hard, trying to get back the breath he lost from this little quarrel. His face felt warm from exhaustion and something he would try and force away for now.
"What's wrong with you?" he said softly, still holding down the scarred blonde beneath him who was writhing and struggling under his weight and grip. "The last time you would've willingly let yourself die was during the Kira case…" he explained as Mello began to calm down a little. It seemed that he accepted that he wouldn't get free and was just tiring himself this way. The blue-eyed young man laid his head on the ground, panting for breath and staring at his pinned-down wrist beside him. He stayed silent for a few moments, regaining his lost oxygen.
"I'm tired," he told the redheaded tech. "I'm tired of all my God damn disappointments…of having to fight to try and get to the top…of knowing I got out of this alive but am as low as I've ever been…and will never surpass that albino bastard. I want to die now because this life isn't worth living…what good is it if there's nothing to actually live for? Where do you turn when just about everybody you used to know has betrayed you and wants you dead and six feet under?" his gloved hands clenched tightly as he said this and his blue orbs expressed the seriousness of the matter; he wanted death to whisk him away because there was no longer anything he could do. Life was meaningless, in his eyes, because he no longer had something to fight for. Matt's eyes softened sympathetically.
"I…I don't want you dead…" he told the blonde sadly, wondering of Mello was directing his comment to anyone in particular. Mello's eyes widened and then softened, as did his clenched fists, and he looked up to Matt.
"I didn't mean you…you're the last person I'd think that of," he said. Matt's eyes only fell at this.
"Then why would you leave me?" he questioned. "Why do you think there's nothing to fight for anymore, or to live for? I mean…I'm..." he trailed off, not totally sure where he was going with his words. His grip loosened, Mello noticed, and, after a few moments, he got off of him and sat down next to him, his striped back facing the blonde. Mello sat up, leaning on his elbows and kept his eyes locked on Matt, who obviously looked upset. His eyes strayed to the ledge to the building; he was open for escape from this horrible world but, the fact that Matt was troubled…it bothered him. Suddenly, Matt was more important than ending his own misery.
The blonde sat up completely and then crawled up next to the gamer, giving him a curious look.
"You said you wanted to die…" Matt told him irritably. "I'm not going to hold you back if that's what you really want," he explained silently as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his packet of cigs; he needed something to calm him. The pack has been dented a little from his quarrel with Mello but the tech didn't seem to mind as he pulled out a crooked cigarette and lit it with his orange lighter, taking a deep inhale through the filter and then setting free a puff of smoke. With that done, he put away his pack and lighter once again. He refused to look into Mello's eyes, though as he glared at the concrete he was currently sitting on. He then pulled up his knees and rested his arms upon them, continuing to smoke through his idea of an emotional pain reliever.
"It's obvious you're upset," Mello stated. "For some reason, I guess I didn't consider your feelings on this matter…I didn't think you'd be so deeply effected by this," he explained. Matt took in another breath through his cig before setting it free and responding.
"You think you're the one who has nothing to live for?" he questioned quietly. "You can find something…you could be a detective again; just stop fighting to be the one on top…I'm the one with no future here…" he explained silently. Mello's eyes sympathized and he finally sat down next to the gamer, listening intently. "I never cared to surpass L…I never even intended to surpass you…it just happened," Matt explained sadly. "All I wanted was to follow you…why the hell do you think I went through so much hell to find you?" This question intrigued Mello as he realized it was true.
"If you die," the tech continued. "Then I'll have nothing to live for."
"Matt…you're smart, too…you could easily find something to fight for," Mello tried to reason.
"Yeah, but…" Matt responded a sad smile came upon his lips. "I love you…" he looked, finally, into Mello's eyes as he said this with a lopsided grin. Mello's blue eyes widened as he looked into the one eye he could see from behind his goggles; the other lens was reflecting light and preventing him from doing so. Before he could react to this confession, Matt reached a gloved hand to Mello's face, his finger's brushing lightly against his unscarred cheek as the gamer reached behind his head and he played with the blonde strands of hair slightly before pulling their faces closer. His goggle-covered eyes fell half-lidded as their lips came only centimeters away from his own. Mello was frozen…until he felt his lips come into contact with Matt's, when which, his eyes widened even more so.
Every rational thought in his mind was screaming that he pull away but, somehow, his own curiosity and irrational thoughts seemed much louder than the many other thoughts. Curiosity and intrigue…and, somehow, even his pleasure. This kiss felt much better than he would've imagined. He could taste Matt's cigarette mixed in with his previous flavor of chocolate. His blue eyes fell closed and he kissed back finally, fulfilling that main part of his curiosity that was questioning if this could possibly get any better. He realized, also, just how important Matt really was to him; why it was that he worried about how he was feeling; because, maybe, a small part of him liked him as more than just an old friend, too.
After a few more moments, their lips separated. Mello kept his blue orbs half-lidded, staring into the gamer's orange-tinted ones. The blush crept onto their cheeks and the blonde was compelled to look away, just hoping Matt's undying gaze would cease and that damn blood at his face would go away. It was embarrassing; he used to be a Mafia leader, for God's sake! Yet it just felt, somehow, natural….but still very embarrassing. He suddenly heard Matt chuckle lowly. His blue orbs widened and he looked back, glaring at the tech that was smiling and laughing gently.
"What!?" he demanded heatedly. The redhead finished his laughing before responding.
"You're cute with your face all red like that," he explained with another lopsided smile and his eyes, playfully, half-lidded. Mello rolled his eyes and looked away. Then Matt wrapped an arm across the blonde's shoulders, pulling him into a small embrace. Almost falling into the gamer's lap, Mello grabbed onto the gloved arm holding him and regained balance. He could feel his blush returning.
Matt buried his face into the blonde's scarred neck and gently kissed the old burn wound.
"Will you stay with me now?" he asked softly, placing another soft kiss onto Mello's skin. "Will you be my future?" The blonde's eyes widened at this but then fell as a smile graced his features. He placed his other hand onto Matt's arm and hung his head slightly, a smirk still pulling at his lips.
"You've given me a new reason to live," he mumbled happily. "My new goal is to make you happy and, if I can make you happy…" he told him contently.
"Then, yes…I'll be your future." He looked up into Matt's eyes, his own blue orbs sparkling with happiness. The redhead smiled and immediately pulled his lips into Mello's again, kissing him again but deeper than before. Mello's eyes closed instantly and he willingly returned the favor.
A/N: OMG O.O this fic is so very long! D: But, meh, I still like :3 Though I feel as if I made one of them OOC…or both…which I probably did .-. I apologize for that but I hope whoever has read will like it ;3 Please R&R (NICELY!), constructive criticism, and NO FLAMES! :) Thank you for reading.