Disclaimer: I Don't Own Death Note in Any Way. It is Rightfully Owned and Copyrighted to Tsugumi Obah and Takashi Obata.
Rating: PG-15 and Older Due to Crude Language, Use of Cigarettes and Guns, Angst, and Yaoi/Shounen-Ai/GuyxGuy
A/N: Been reading…quite a few MattxMello fics -nervous grin- some, of which, include a chocolate-less Mello…who, we all know, must be bad .-. So, yeah, this was inspired off a couple of those ;D Please enjoy!
It was obvious that Matt was just plain pissed that morning. His night hadn't gone too well because his Majesty had claimed the only bed in the apartment as his own. It was Matt who went and saved his sorry ass from being burned alive. It was Matt who replaced his bandages everyday and it was Matt who offered him the bed until he healed. The blonde bastard had already made a full recovery, save for the permanent scar that the chocoholic still bitched about, but thought it would be amusing to take Matt's bed as his own, leaving the hacker to sleep on the lumpy couch that was good for anything but sleeping.
"Little bitch," he muttered heatedly as he walked into their pathetic excuse of a kitchen and looked around for some coffee; no such luck. His morning was just getting better and better, wasn't it? Not only did he have a massive backache but, now, he discovered that they had no coffee. Just fucking wonderful. Not to mention, it was hard to ignore the fact that his eyes, even from behind his goggles, kept drooping; they felt heavy and tired. Bitch-Fit Mello had him stay awake half the night on Graveyard Duty, just staring at damn laptop monitors for no reason because nothing happened!
Damn it all, the tech thought, angrily once again. I want coffee, I want sleep, and I want that little bitch, Mello, out of my bed! He thought, feeling his sore muscles tense at his own anger. He sighed and tried to calm himself. Matt wasn't usually so irritable; of the two, the redhead was, by far, the calmest. But this damn mess had gone by for nearly four months already; four months! Within these past sixteen weeks he had to put up with bitching, whining, chocolate cravings, and taking orders from his annoyance of a boss, for lack of a better word. Mello was worse than a fucking woman with his tyrannical mindset.
How Matt was able to put up with Mello was a damn mystery to the gamer. Sadly, however, his patience was growing extremely thin; thread of string thin. If that bastard came out of his room bitching about something, Matt would probably blow his top completely. The gamer smiled cynically; maybe today would be the day Mello finally shot him, like he threatened to do so many previous occasions before. Something told Matt that'd seem a hell of a lot better than taking another damn order from that crazy blonde.
He looked around the kitchen a little more to no avail before pulling out his packet of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans. He didn't bother pulling on one of his striped shirts when he awoke that morning and just grabbed his jeans from the day before. They were fairly loose and currently hung around his hips, slightly exposing his green boxers. His feet were bare and his long gloves still resided on his arms. He dug around for his lighter and eventually found it in his front, left pocket before attempting to light his nicotine filter. At first, the lighter wouldn't cooperate but, eventually, it lit and the white stick in his mouth caught the flame. He took in a deep inhale, calming himself, if only slightly, before setting the breath free once more, sending a puff of smoke into the small apartment.
Thinking Mello just might complain about the smell, as he usually did, the tech walked up to a small window and opened it before leaning down on his elbows on it. Crossing one leg across the other, he continued to take in his nerve-reliever and simply stared out into the cityscape before him. He felt tired and wished they still had some coffee so the caffeine would wake him a bit. He took in another long drag of his cig before blowing out another cloud of smoke that drifted away into the air. Feeling his nerves calm again, for whatever amount of time it may be, he flicked the stick, letting it fall down to the streets below.
Bringing the upper half of his body back into the room, he closed the window once more and headed back to the small kitchen, hoping to find a substitute for the warm drink he would usually have. Opening the fridge, he sighed, for all he could find was a less-than half-gallon of milk, chocolate syrup, at least six eggs and a few condiments. His head fell, annoyed. He supposed he could have some milk; maybe the cold fluid would have a minor affect on him. For the sake of his tiresome body, he decided to go for it. He grabbed the gallon of milk and syrup and placed them on the kitchen counter, letting the fridge close on its own.
Afterwards, the redhead opened the first cabinet he saw and pulled out a plain, white mug and inspected it. Making sure it was, at least, decently clean, he set it down and began to make his cup of cold chocolate milk. Taking him less than five minutes to pour the milk and then squeeze out the syrup, he grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer and abruptly mixed the two simple ingredients, watching the dairy product go from white to a chocolaty brown in seconds. Once accomplished, he brought the mug up to his lips and took a few sips; not bad and, luckily, once the cold came into contact with his dry, warm mouth, it made him wake up, his eyes no longer feeling droopy. He smiled and indulged himself a little more, completely not hearing the door to his room creak open as a pair of bare feet padded across the small living room.
Just as Matt had finished taking in his third or fourth small sip, his mug came down in front of him and a certain blonde had came into the kitchen.
"What're you doing?" Mello asked, a hint of anger in his voice—as usual. The gamer in front of him looked at him through the corner of his eye, taking note of his attire of leather pants and vest, before turning his attention back to his mug.
"Drinking milk, what does it look like?" he responded, the anger in his voice currently quelled and hidden behind a softer, much gentler voice.
"You had better left me some to make my own," Mello threatened, his face turning to a scowl. Hidden behind his goggles, Matt rolled his eyes slightly and exited the kitchen, heading to the couch in the living room and check on the monitors, because he suspected Mello would say something, eventually.
"How're the monitors?" the blonde's voice barked. Matt's own eyes fell, annoyed; he just knew Mello too well, didn't he? He sat in front of the three laptops that sat upon the coffee table; nothing. Little movement and soft voices was all that could be heard. The voices were barely audible but the hacker could make out some of it; it had nothing to do with the Kira case. He took a sip of his drink and responded finally.
"Quiet as the grave," he mumbled, the lights of the three laptops reflecting in his goggles. He heard a growl come from the blonde man in the kitchen. It was obvious Mello was growing frustrated and impatient. Matt looked over to him; he could tell the scarred elder wanted results now. He took another sip and heard the fridge open and close soon after before his friend came into the room, holding a similar mug as Matt's in his hand. The scowl on his face didn't change.
Matt blew out a breath, causing a few strands of his hair to rise and then fall back in place. He took another sip and listened as Mello glared at the screens and then ranted about how greatly pissed off he was.
The redheaded gamer had now taken to sitting the couch, with his back on the armrest to the right and his legs spread out in front of him as a PSP was held between his two hands, buttons clicking furiously and different lights reflecting off Matt's orange-tinted, black-framed goggles. He had pulled on a black-striped shirt a while ago, his gloves still overlapping the sleeves, and had also pulled on his boots, just in case Mello decided to go on some crazy hi-jinks later that day; this way, he was ready and would just need to grab his furred vest. A slightly crumpled cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he concentrated on his game, giving a glance over at the monitor's every so often to make sure nothing was going on. He was just glad it was quiet in his small apartment, considering Mello had gone out to take care of some business, saying he would be gone for just a few hours. Matt was just happy he wouldn't have to put up with him, even if it was just a few hours; almost like a mini-vacation, in his mind.
After a few moments, a triumphant little tune played from his hand-held. The gamer smiled a small, victorious smile that indicated he had done something well. The smile stayed there for a while as he continued but it eventually faded and he became engulfed in the next challenge the game offered. It was a slow part so he glanced over at the laptops; nothing, as usual. His eyes strayed back to his game.
He heard the lock to his door clicking and moving but paid no heed; the only two people with keys were him and Mello. The only thing seen across his face was slight disappointment; he had hoped for at least an hour or two away from Mello. He didn't really feel like being yelled at after sleeping on a lumpy couch and having an all-around bad day so far. He decided, whatever happened, he would give Mello three strikes and mentally count them off in his mind. By the third strike, Matt figured he would explode from the aggravation and one of them would have to kill the other if the other didn't leave from sight immediately. And, by that, he meant that Mello best know how to take a hint unless the blonde wanted a bullet halfway up his ass. Matt looked at his own gun that lay on the coffee table and smirked slightly.
The door opened to a very annoyed-looking ex-Mafia boss. He growled as he walked in and kicked the door closed behind him. Violently, he stripped away his jacket and threw it on the sofa. Matt didn't really notice any of this, too into his game to do so. The blonde man walked into the kitchen and searched frantically through all the cabinets, drawers and the fridge, apparently to no avail in whatever he was looking for because his shrugs of annoyance increased in volume.
It was then that Matt heard the familiar click of a gun and immediately felt the barrel of Mello's weapon against the back of his fiery head. He paused his game and moved his eyes up, wondering what his problem was now.
"Where are they?" came Mello's dangerously venomous voice.
"What?" Matt asked, quickly saving his game and placing the Sony merchandise on the coffee table next to the laptop in the center. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be fun.
"My chocolate bars; where the fuck are they?" Mello demanded.
"You ran out yesterday," Matt explained, feeling that emotion from earlier where his patience was as thin as thread. He figured the man could at least keep track of his own damn candy. He felt himself being grabbed by the back of his shirt and forcibly being lifted to his feet. Against his will, he complied. After standing, he felt Mello's boot come in contact with his back as the blonde kicked him in the direction of the door. The gamer yelped slightly; the bastard happened to be wearing his combat boots today.
"Go get me some more then!" Mello demanded angrily. The redhead held back a growl.
"You were just out," Matt said, bothered. "Go and get them yourself." He put a hand to his now even-more-sore back, no thanks to the wonderful little kick Mello just graced him with. However, his response didn't go unanswered; not verbally, at least. As he was slightly massaging his back, he soon felt his head being hit and, next thing he knew, he was on the couch again, desperately clutching his stinging head, wondering if it was bleeding, because it sure as hell felt like it was. The blonde had struck him with the handle of his gun.
Mello's shadow came over him and Matt could feel the glare that the leather-clad blonde was giving him. His orange-tinted eyes looked up to his boss's deep azure ones.
"Wrong answer!" Mello screamed at him, obviously pissed off at the hacker's defiance. "Now get off your lazy ass and go get me my damn chocolate!" He raised the gun up next to his face and his piercing glare intensified. "Unless you want a bullet rammed into your thick skull." Matt glared at him from behind his goggles and just suddenly wished that the blonde would make his threats against him serious. He growled, lowly and to himself so Mello wouldn't hear. Ignoring the pain of his still-stinging skull, and sore back, he stood, grabbed his own weapon, and headed to grab his vest.
"Fucking wuss," the redhead muttered. "If you're going to do something, just do it already." He thought his chocoholic partner hadn't heard him but, as he neared his jacket, a gunshot rang out. Matt's eyes widened as the bullet was from Mello's gun and it had passed mere centimeters away from his face. He knew this because it knocked his cigarette right out of his mouth and the wall to his right currently had a bullet hole in it that had some smoke escaping from it.
"What was that, Mattie?" Mello hissed as his grip on his weapon tightening and the scowl on his face deepening. "I didn't quite catch that comment."
Mattie. That pet-name was only used when the blonde was very pissed at the redhead or if he wanted something. This time, indicated by the poison in Mello's voice, it was because he had very much heard the comment and was angry. The gamer stayed silent for several moments, knowing his partner's gun was pointed straight at him. His mind was a blank but, just as easily as he had nothing to say, a thought came to mind.
Strike three. The glare in his eyes was obvious now. You're out.
Before Mello could even blink, he, too, had a gun pointed at his blonde head, causing his blue eyes to widen at Matt's behavior. Never, once, had Mello thought that Matt, of all people, would point a gun at him. He looked straight into the redhead's orange-tinted eyes; he could read the pure rage burning in them and he wondered what was wrong. He continued glaring, however but a small part in the back of his mind wondered if Matt would really shoot him.
"You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that?" the hacker seethed, his grip tightening and his eyes scowling as well. He stared at the blonde, awaiting the response. Matt wasn't the confrontational type; but when he got pissed, he got pissed. Mello widened his eyes and slowly lowered his gun about halfway.
"What?" he asked, almost as if he couldn't believe the words he had just heard.
"You're a pain, Mello!" Matt responded, his shoulders tensing. "You can be such a pest! Ever since you've gotten here, you've treated me like I'm one of your lackeys! You're always yelling and fucking bitching about crap! You've made me sleep on that couch, for God's sake! You took my bed, have been using me, and I don't get so much as afreaking thank you!? Well, screw you! You can get your own Goddamn chocolate!
"Everyday, it's a damn issue with you. You make me stay up when I obviously need sleep, you still complain about your damn scar, and, after a while, your voice can be the worst thing to come into my ears! I get it, OK!? I understand that you're not rich anymore, hate Near, and want to take down Kira to become the next L and, hell, I'm OK with that! Just stop bitching like you're the most important thing in the world because, damn it, you're not!" Matt took a deep breath and finished his statement.
"You scare everyone else, Mello," he told him slowly, his voice small but full of anger. "Threaten me all you want…"
"But you don't scare me."
The blonde's shoulders fell completely and the look on his face looked like he had just been told that chocolate was no longer in production. It was a look of fear and pain, shock and dismay, sadness and regret. It was an expression Matt had never seen on him but that didn't make his own anger decrease; the glare in his eyes was still as fresh as when this had started. He used to be Mello's good friend in Whammy's; they played pranks and Matt would follow whatever minor order his partner had given him. But, now, it was just aggravating, as the orders were no longer minor; they were annoying, selfish, and, hell, throw in spoiled while you're at it.
"If I had known you'd turned into…this, I probably never would've helped!" he told the blonde heatedly as he lowered his gun now, too, but could feel the death grip he had on it. He, now, started to take note of Mello's body language. His skinny shoulders were shaking slightly, indicating shock. His eyes were wide and also trembled; this also indicated surprise but he could read fear across those azure orbs as well. His breathing was shallow; this told Matt of his uncertainty.
It was then that the younger's own expression softened; he had never seen Mello so…vulnerable. Of all of Whammy's kids, he acted the toughest and made sure to strike fear in the eyes of everyone he was acquainted with. Never had Matt seen him like this. Well, that was almost true; the day of the explosion was the day he could see how scared Mello really was but, aside form the day, it was an extremely rare occurrence. Almost as of the blonde felt his partner's thoughts, he shut his eyes closed and rushed to the bedroom, where he closed the door and locked it without a word. Matt looked in the direction of his former room, his eyes wide and suddenly sympathetic.
The gamer abruptly wondered if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.
It had been nearly an hour now. Mello being locked in a small space for an hour just didn't fit well with Matt. Either the blonde was destroying anything that belonged to the redhead or he had committed suicide. At least, those were the only plausible scenario's the tech could think of. The only problem with both assumptions, however, was that it had been eerily quiet since the leather-clad young man had entered the room.
With suicide, there would've been some sound of shuffling or even a gunshot. Destruction also meant some type of movement, none of which he'd heard. Matt couldn't do anything but sit on his couch and think; he didn't have enough heart to play his games, he was just too worried. He sat there for that hour, staring at the laptops monitors, TV, and ceiling, just waiting until the blonde stepped out. Sadly, Matt wasn't about to walk up to that door and try saying something, thinking that Mello might just shoot him through the door before he could even open it. If he was going to die, he might as well die with this problem solved.
He didn't really want Mello to hate him, just to understand that he was, indeed, human. Just like the blonde needed his chocolate, Matt needed a little sign of recognition and some respect, at least. It wasn't like he was asking for the damn moon, right? Then again, this was Mello he was thinking of. The blonde always had an issue of pride, Matt knew. 'Thank you' was a lot to ask for from him; maybe he was asking for the moon after all.
But, hell, who was the one who took care of him when everybody else wanted him dead? It would be nice to know that he at least took that into consideration. He could've left him for dead but he didn't; he took him into his little apartment and tried his best to help, even if his best wasn't that much. Matt barely had anything to offer, either, but he still did what he could, just to help the childhood friend he thought he knew. Mello was still Mello but…he always just seemed a little more off than usual.
The leather was certainly something Matt had to get accustomed to.
The blonde usually wore black clothes in Whammy's but, now, it was just a fetish. His leather clung onto him like a second skin and he let a lot more skin show than before. It actually surprised him a bit when he saw him after so long. Mind you, he wasn't expecting one of those teary reunions with an old friend; he figured the blonde had to change some, considering Matt himself had also changed, if only slightly. But it surprised him that he had changed…so much.
The gamer sighed and closed his eyes, pondering over how pissed off Mello would be after he finally got out of the room. Matt shuddered and knew it wouldn't be pleasant; not much was when it came to Mello. However, what he lacked in social graces he made up for in appearance; he was, even with his new scar, always pretty ritzy-looking and favored expensive items. He was no bargain-hunter, until his Mafia title was ripped away from him, that is.
He was an attention-craver, to put it bluntly. The fur coats made him feel important but also guaranteed that everyone's eyes would be on him; the same went for his tight leather clothes and boots, whether they were combat ones or expensive ones with small heels and slightly pointed toes. And, heck, that was one of the main reasons behind showing that wide range of skin, no? He was good at stealing the spotlight, even if it only lasted for a little while; before he would move on to plan some new trick to get the attention he so desperately needed. Subtlety was not his strong point.
Matt now thought about himself for a moment. He was quiet, relatively shy and didn't like socializing, unless it was with Mello, he supposed. His life was in his computers, video games, and other technological things that he liked to mess with. The laptop in the center of the coffee table was his, as a matter of fact; the other two were obtained through Mello and the few connections he still had. He was, to put it frankly, the exact opposite of his friend.
But Matt was just fine with that; he didn't need anybody's attention and, honestly, he didn't want it. Though, he did tend to get a few people looking in his direction whenever he walked down the streets with his odd goggles, furred vest, long gloves, and boots that overlapped his jeans. Not that he particularly paid attention; he liked new, strange things. The goggles were an example of this, as well as his long gloves. Also, he was a hacker who was currently working with a wanted criminal; those gloves came in quite handy from keeping finger-prints off of places.
He sighed once again and looked to his bedroom door, his expression showing his concern.
Mello…he thought his mental voice distraught.
"Don't hate me," he mumbled as his arms came across his abdomen and his tinted eyes remained on the door to his room. He continued staring, thinking that, by some odd miracle, his gaze alone would be enough to make the blonde on the other side come out, just to tell him he forgave him but Matt would still immediately apologize feverishly, saying that it was a stupid mistake. Just to see the young man's scarred body and hear his voice.
Matt loved him, after all.
Despite this the events that convened earlier that day, the redheaded gamer wouldn't deny his feelings, to himself anyway. Subtlety, while it was Mello's weakest point, was Matt's strongest. He could get annoyed with Mello but he could never truly despise or hate him. Nor could he have the blonde hating him, as it would just ruin him for sure. He spent a few years searching for Mello after he left; he wasn't about to let him go now, making his search completely worthless. The whole incident with the guns was just a bluff; Matt would quicker sell all his games, consoles, and other technological devices than send a bullet in Mello's direction.
Many of his thoughts and words spoken earlier that day were also born from his aggravation and thinned patience that had finally just given in. When he wished that Mello would just shoot him already; this was half-hearted. Matt knew that a relationship between them would probably be out of the question, he wasn't stupid; far from it, actually. He considered every detail, especially after seeing Mello again after so long. The rosary around the blonde's neck indicated his belief in religion; most Christian's frowned upon homosexuality, the last time he checked, anyway.
On top of this, this was Mello! An ex-Mafia boss who hung around with a gun stuffed down his leather pants and piercing eyes that could destroy your soul with one glare. Chances of Mello preferring men seemed slim to none. To Matt anyway; to others, he was sure; he seemed like the perfect candidate, only because they didn't know him well enough. Not like him.
Despite all of this, however, Matt wouldn't want Mello to shoot him; even if it was improbable, it wasn't impossible, and that small hope kept Matt going, following Mello until the ends of the Earth, if need be, and even going as far as letting himself die if the blonde ever needed it and without question. Dedication and loyalty; two words that could describe Matt pretty well but those things were saved for his leather-clad friend and him only. Anyone else could die in a fire; as long as it didn't affect Mello, he could care less. In a way, it could be said that he was rather dependant of the wanted criminal, no matter how many saw it as the other way around. Matt let that thought sink in for a moment before coming to a realization; they needed each other.
Matt, after leaving Whammy's, dedicated his time to finding his beloved friend. For a few years, Mello was fine, up until recently when he could turn to no one else. Matt, the day of the explosion, could see the fear clear in the blonde's face when he went into the burning building to save him; his piercing blue eyes, usually dripping with a cynical or even crazy determination, were, for once, shaking and small with a fear that had gripped his very core and refused to let go. Then Matt came in, hacking from the fumes of smoke entering his system. The moment he spotted Mello's skinny body struggling beneath a huge piece of debris, he immediately assisted, carried him back to his muscle car and rushed him home.
He remembered it clearly, almost as if it had happened just the day before.
He shuddered when he saw Mello that day; the skin of his burn wound was red and must've felt as bad as it looked. Some ends of his blonde hair were burned and his face said it all; his eyes were closed—one from the burn, of coarse—as he clutched the red rosary at his neck and silently prayed the whole way back to Matt's apartment, thanking God that he was alive and that someone still cared enough to want him alive. He passed out halfway to the hacker's apartment. Matt had smiled upon hearing this prayer, however. Even he thanked God for that, and he was never one for religion.
Thinking back on this day, no matter how dreadful it was to Mello, actually calmed the redhead slightly. It was the day they found each other again and knew they would fight for Mello's position as the new L—together. Suddenly, all his anger from this day vanished and was replaced with a desperate need to hear the blonde's voice say the words he needed to hear; I forgive you.
As if hearing his mental pleas, the door to Matt's ex-room suddenly clicked silently, indicating that it was being unlocked. Matt's head shot up and, the moment it did, the door knob began to twist. As soon as it did, the gamer stood to his feet, standing in front of the couch and watching the door begin to crack open. His feet stayed glued to the ground for a few moments before he began to take tiny steps forward until he was only five feet away from the door. He didn't want Mello to be startled in finding him right in front of the door. Also, he decided, even after being in the room for so long, he would still want some personal space.
The few moments where the door creaked open felt like an eternity. When the blonde finally stepped out, there was something about him that didn't at all like Mello, Matt noted. His azure orbs were distant and half-lidded. His lips were not necessarily serious but they weren't completely in a frown either. He was sad; this was an emotion that was difficult to read on Mello. But, now, he wasn't even trying to hide it; he wanted Matt to know his pain, to know what he'd done. Matt's eyes fell at this.
"Mel?" he asked, hoping the use of the blonde's nickname would help. "Are…are you feeling alright?" the red head, after asking, dared to step closer to his leather-clad friend. Mello looked up, his eyes remaining in their distraught position. He didn't even look mad or anything; just confused and sad.
"Huh?" he asked, his voice quiet.
"Are you feeling alright?" Matt repeated carefully.
"Oh…" Mello responded and looked away from Matt's eyes. "I'm fine…"
He sure as hell doesn't sound fine, Matt thought nervously before taking a few more steps forward and stopped, his eyes never leaving Mello. The blonde, of which, began walking forward as well, taking each step as if it was a completely new and foreign experience to him. Taking another slow step, he managed to loose his footing and trip, falling. A small yelp escaped his lips before he landed right into Matt, his right arm wrapped around his neck and the other around his waist, clutching onto him for dear life.
Matt could immediately feel his face warm up at this as his eyes widened, his body stiffening while he kept his arms, firmly, at his sides. It was then, however, that he noticed Mello's own arms trembling as he held onto the redhead, squeezing him so hard around the waist that Matt was surprised he could still breathe. He looked down at the blonde head that currently resided next to his. The blue eyes of his friend were wide and nervous.
"Mels?" he dared to speak and break the eerie and awkward silence between them. He noticed Mello tense before bringing himself up and pulling back, reluctantly, to look the hacker in the eyes, keeping his gloved hands around Matt's neck and waist. His face was suddenly unreadable, for a moment, before something flashed in his eyes that the gamer couldn't quite put his finger on. It wasn't that previous depression from before but…surprise and curiosity; he wanted to know something but was unsure as well. Suddenly, he could feel the blonde gently gripping the hair in the back of his head, causing a chill to run down his spine.
The gamer just stood there, letting Mello memorize every detail of his face. First, his orange goggles and then his eyes, which were hidden behind said goggles. Next were his fiery strands of hair and, lastly, his lips.
"Matt…" the blonde breathed, gripping his hair tighter and his blue eyes suddenly never leaving the gamers ones. He seemed at a loss for words. The redhead took this opportunity to speak instead.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled sadly. Mello's eyes widened, again, at this.
"…Why?" he asked after a short while. Another nervous silence enveloped them.
"For yelling at you…" the redhead replied, his eyes ripping away from Mello's gaze.
"You shouldn't be," the blonde said immediately after. Matt eyes widened a bit and he looked up back to him. Surprisingly, the tiniest of smiles was gracing Mello's features.
"You were being honest…I'm the one who's sorry; I guess I've been too wrapped up in all my own misery that…I forgot that you're not just another person." He smiled at Matt sadly, which only caused the hacker to feel worse.
"That doesn't give me right to yell at you," Matt argued silently.
"Yes it does," his blonde friend told him, his smile faded into a seriousness that surprised the redhead. He looked away again, not willing to look into those piercing eyes which had only become more intimidating with the new scar. However, Mello closed off the space between them, bringing Matt into a full embrace and throwing him off his train of thought. He could feel his face warming up again and damn it all if he didn't look as red as his hair.
"Mello?" he breathed nervously, wondering what the blonde was getting at or of, maybe, his tiny hope could be real. The blonde buried his face into the crook of the hacker's neck, his grip tightening once again.
"Don't abandon me, Matt…" Mello uttered these words in the lowest octave possible. The gamer looked at him curiously for a few moments.
"Abandon you?" he questioned, intrigued.
"I need you," the blonde told him, once again holding onto him for dear life. "And not just to become the new L." Matt's eyes grew to the size of saucers at this comment. He grabbed the blonde by the shoulders and pulled him in front of him so he could look him in the eyes.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" he practically demanded while still keeping his voice soft. Before he could think, Mello pulled the redheads lips into his own, kissing him affectionately and keeping his eyes shut closed as he did. Matt's eyes couldn't have grown any wider at this point.
Is this a dream? He mentally asked himself. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up any time soon. He indulged himself and carefully returned the kiss; his long-gloved hands reaching up to gently caress the blonde's cheeks. His goggle-covered eyes closed and he melted into those lips. He smiled as he noted that Mello tasted vaguely of chocolate. For just a little while, they refused to pull away before realizing they needed oxygen.
They looked each other in the eye for a few moments before Matt spoke up, a smile playing on his face. He pulled the blonde into an embrace, gloved arms wrapped around Mello's skinny waist and his head resting upon his scarred shoulder. Mello's face switched into confusion and he awaited an explanation.
"Whatever you want, Mels," the redhead began. "It's yours, without question." The blonde smiled upon hearing these words and feeling the hacker's grip tighten.
"No," he told him suddenly, causing Matt to pull away, curious.
"Whatever you want," he told the gamer. "You've already given me enough." His beloved hacker smiled again.
"Having you like this is enough for me," Matt told him with the cutest grin he could muster.
"I've hoped for too long to kiss you like that."
A/N: This took a very long time to write D: almost a month…can't say I was bored, I suppose XD Even so, I don't really know what I think of this story :P I like it but…IDK, maybe it's just me -shrugs- Anyway, please, R&R, constructive criticism, no flames ;) thanks!