Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or the song Chinese.
A/N: This was a request from Aura Sleepless. Sorry it took me so long to get to! It's based off the song Chinese by Lily Allen, which was the stipulation of the request! It's a really good MxM song, and I think it fits Matt's POV the best because it's really chill.
Warnings: Language. This is Matt and Mello.
I sat hunched up on the only intact horse on the old, broken-down carousel, wondering what the hell time he was going to drag his sorry ass over here and pick me up. Mello wasn't usually late, but it was rush hour and it was understandable.
That was bullshit. I'd wait here for him forever and we both knew it. He could be as late as he damn well pleased.
It sucked that we could only afford one car.
I lit a cigarette and smoked it casually, almost without thinking about it. Right. That was probably part of the reason we couldn't afford as many cars as we had people who needed them: because even though I get the cheapest cigarettes possible, it's still an expensive habit. And Mello, who goes through in chocolate twice what I go through in cigarettes, won't compromise and gets the most expensive chocolate he can find.
He's so needy.
...Says the guy who once didn't go outside for two weeks straight. Fifteen days. It was pretty sweet.
And actually, I love that about him.
I nearly fell off my 'horse' when I heard a car horn blaring with a level of anger that could only be Mello-esk. How long had he been there? I waved and he honked once more. I could almost feel the literal kick in the ass that I often received when I moved too slowly to satisfy him. I smiled. He was gonna wear that horn out, too. The last one had been reduced to a pathetic 'Brrrrrrrhhh' sound before we'd finally gotten it replaced. Since it was hisfault (I never use it), I tried to make him use his fund to pay for it. He gave me the saddest puppy eyes I'd ever seen and I'd not only paid, but taken the car in myself and sat at the repair shop for the three hours the job took.
Yes, I know exactly how wrapped around his finger I am.
The handle on the outside of the passenger door didn't work (again because of him- he ripped it open too hard once and it's never been the same), so he had to lean to the side and open the door for me, which amused me to no end. Because, I mean, seriously. Mello opening a door for someone?
Well, if he wanted me in the car, he'd have to.
From the moment I saw his face, the whole world went away. That's how it had always worked. When he was around, I couldn't see anything else. He was scowling, brow furrowed, but when I smiled at him his face softened.
"Hey," he said gently.
"Hey," I replied, and captured him before he could straighten up in his seat, kissing him lightly, sweetly.
"Mmmm," he said when he opened his eyes again, articulate as always.
I released him and he sat back up, putting the car into drive. His whole face was calm now, happy, the way he only was when he was with me.
If you think that didn't make me feel special, well. It did. Made me want to burst.
I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes. This was perfect.
"Don't forget, you have that thing today."
Damn it, I'd forgotten. Well, there went my evening with the one I loved.
I sighed and rolled my head to look at him. He was watching the road for once, which actually scared me more than when he didn't because it was so rare.
"I don't wanna go," I informed him.
"You know you do. It's an illegal hacking seminar. It's your second favorite thing to do."
"I thought that was first. What's first?"
He rolled his eyes, but he was grinning, pleased.
"Psssh, bitch, we both know I do you." He flipped his hair like a girl to make me laugh, which I did. "Come on," he insisted. "It'll be fine- it's only a few hours. I'll make you that disgusting thing you like."
My ears pricked up like the puppy I am. "Beans on toast?"
"I don't know how you can eat that stuff."
"You grew up in England just like me, smart one."
"But it's gross... You want tea, too?" he asked as he pulled into our apartment parking lot.
"You know it."
He made a face and turned off the car. "I'm willing to bet you haven't packed yet."
"Do that, I'll act like your wife by cooking for you, and then you have to go."
I sighed and resigned myself to the inevitable. I really did have to go to this. And he was right, I even wanted to, but at that moment what I wanted more was to be with him.
Except hacking technologies were advancing and I needed to keep up, and the seminar would really help with that.
We were in our apartment then, and I dragged myself to our bedroom and packed reluctantly. I could smell the beans cooking as their sweet warmth filled our little hellhole apartment, transforming it into Wammy's House.
I sat down at our tiny table and watched him as he poured the beans onto some toast.
"D'you know why I like beans and toast so much?" I asked him.
He shrugged as he set the plate in front of me, added the tea, grabbed a bar of chocolate, and sat down facing me. "I dunno. Because it's nasty with a sloppy yet magically also mushy texture? Because you like stupid things?"
I laughed. "I like you, don't I?"
He pretended to bristle. "I certainly hope so."
"Seriously, though, do you know why?"
He shook his head, snapping off a square of chocolate.
"It's because Tess was cooking some when you first came to Wammy's, and every time I smell it I think of you."
He smiled sincerely and pushed my forehead with one finger. "That's not creepy," he said gently.
I grinned back at him around a mouthful of the aforementioned slop and mush.
"I'll order Chinese food for when you come back," he assured me. "About midnight, right? They'll be closed by then. I'll order it when you leave and we can heat it up."
I shrugged, good mood seeping away again. "Yeah," I sighed.
I knew it was only about six hours. I knew the time would go fast. I knew I wasn't that co-dependant that I couldn't handle six hours on my own. I just... we'd both been so busy for the last week that we'd barely seen each other... and I thought that yesterday was the last day of being busy and that today we would get to be together...
That, and I hadn't slept in two days now and my emotions were running wild in that way that only funerals and sleep-deprivation can make them. I did not want to cry about this. This was a stupid reason to cry. Look, I even had beans and toast. There should be no crying.
But I was, of course.
Mello looked at me, concerned but mostly alarmed. "Why are you...?"
I shrugged. "I'm just over-tired and it's making me blow this way out of proportion." I rolled my eyes through my tears and shook my head. "I just miss you."
He leaned across the table and wiped away my tears with his thumb. "All it takes is a phone call. And then you can hear my annoying voice as much as you damn well please."
I laughed and blinked hard to make the patheticness stop.
"Alright. I'm going. See you soon."
He waved as I walked out the door.
Six hours later, at eleven thirty PM, I was driving home again.
I had been right. That seminar was completely necessary. I learned so much from it that it was disgusting, and I'd probably be able to decrease my hack-time by half next time I broke into Wammy's computers, one of the highest security systems in the world. Ah, hacking. My third favorite thing to do.
Finally at the door to our apartment, I couldn't find my keys. I patted myself down, but all I had was my key to the car and try as I might I couldn't get it to fit in the apartment lock.
I knocked. No response.
A clatter of footfalls as he hurried over to the door, the scrape of a lock, and the squeak of the hinges as the door opened.
I saw his face and the world went away, for the millionth time, and everything was alright. I couldn't ask for more.
"Hey," he smiled at me. "Welcome home."
I jumped him, smothering him with kisses and the excitement and loneliness I'd been containing.
"Good to see you too," he laughed, pushing me off carefully but firmly. Carefully because he knew he could easily break me in half. "Come on, I'll ravish you later. It's midnight and I'm fucking starving."
I agreed and trailed him to the kitchen, again just like a puppy. I kept kissing him, distracting him, poking him, nuzzling his neck, whispering in his ear. He made me stop saying, and I quote, "If you keep doing that I'll be forced to fuck you until you can't anymore," which sounded good to me, but he meant it as a threat so I stopped. I did, however, inform him that it was a terrible threat. He pretended to be annoyed.
We sat down together on our pitiful couch. He turned on the TV and began forking Chinese into his mouth like a madman with his left hand, using his free hand to hold mine, balancing his food on his knees to manage this operation.
The TV was on mute from the last time we had watched it (it had led to... things... and the children's show that had been playing in the background was contrary to the mood, so we muted it because the 'off' button doesn't work and we were sure as hell not getting up to turn it off the old-fashioned way. The 'on' button works, though. Go figure- it's the same button.) but neither of us had a free hand to turn the volume on. We watched the people on some shrink show holding hands and trying to fix their relationship, or something, and we added dialogue of our own.
"Doc... the problem is... see... our hands are glued together," Mello said in falsetto.
I chortled, almost passing chewed up sweet and sour chicken bits through my nose. The couple on-screen was holding hands so tightly on the arm of their chairs that it was plausible.
The doctor looked serious.
"Have you tried Goof Off?" I supplemented as seriously as I could make it.
The man in the couple was talking now, so Mello put on a deep voice. "We've tried everything. I'm afraid that we might be... stuck like this... forever," he said dramatically.
We laughed tears into our eyes until the program ended.
And it was all okay, because he was here, and I loved him, and he loved me. Orc, what else could I possibly want?
We never got the energy or the desire to unmute it, and as the hours crawled into the early morning, I curled up on the couch and put my head on his lap. He stroked my hair lightly, brushing it back from my forehead. He leaned down and planted a kiss on my nose.
"Go to sleep. I know you've been awake for like, what, fifty-two hours now?"
"Don't wanna," I mumbled. "Wanna talk be with and Mello."
"I'll still be here tomorrow," he reminded me, pretending that had made sense. He knew what I meant.
Even in the almost-hallucinatory state I was in, I knew he was right. We had tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. And probably the next. And even the day after that, maybe.
With Mello, it's one day at a time, trying not to die and trying to keep him alive, too.
"Okay," I slurred.
He stooped down and kissed me, and I kissed him back, the TV silently flickering the only light into the room, turning him slightly blue. He tasted like Chinese.