Well this would be my very first author's note. Hello there interwebz, I've written you a little something. Now here I was going to be all clever with the title and call it Mail Enhancement, but then it occured to me that that would look like I didn't know how to pronounce my own damn name. So yea, that didn't happen. Hm...what else... Oh yes, DISCLAIMER, as in I do not own Death Note, Extenze, or Girls Gone Wild... Pitty me?
This is mainly for my Mello, just incase I don't get the birthday fic I'm working on done by then. Less than a month now til the big 2-0, remember. (It also helps that flamable's real birthday is Dec13th as well.) This will have to tide you over Princess, don't be a brat about it.
Reviews welcome. Enjoy.
No response. Not surprising; Ever since we wrapped the Kira case my favorite blond hellion has been sleeping like a rock, probably making up for the numerous all-nighters. I feel my lips twitch in to a smile as I glance at his slumbering form. God, he's so fucking perfect…
Back to the matter at hand.
Oh, yes, haven't gotten to that yet, have I?
Well, you see, it is currently 3:45am; Monday night, Tuesday morning, which ever you prefer. I've been awake for 26 hours. (Well hi there, Modern Warfare 2, prepare to be man-handled!) At this point, I'd reeeeally like to be unconscious, but unfortunately there are these god awful, annoying as hell, mini television programs that are so fucking repetitive they make me want to liquefy my ear drums and spoon them out with a ladle! They're called infomercials, and I want them to die.
So, I'm just laying here flipping channels, completely minding my own business (other than watching Mels sleep, which I AM allowed to do, thank you very much) when suddenly the room is filled with that ever so lovely, wanna-be tropics, beach type music, which only means one thing: Girls Gone Wild.
Don't judge me.
Anyway, after the voice over telling me I have to be eighteen years or older to order (which I still haven't done because no matter how old I get, I will ALWAYS be afraid of Roger finding my pr0n), the music fades away and the screen goes blank.
Just a delay in programming, right?
Nothing to worry about, right?
No sick, twisted plot to try and emasculate me and mutilate my sexual confidence, RIGHT?!
Not even five seconds after GGW, I get,
"Hey, guys, are you feeling lack luster in bed?" Not even. I glance at Mello, smirking.
"Wish you could last a little longer?" I'm fine, thanks.
"Wish you were a little longer?" Doesn't everyone?
"How does she feel about it?" Or he. Uhm, good? I guess…
"Ever asked?" …no. (Insert awkward, insecure fidgeting with sheet.)
What the hell am I supposed to say? Mels, love, I was just wondering if the size of my dick is satisfactory. Yes, that'd go over just swimmingly.
"Well now you don't even have to worry about it! Introducing Extenze: the pill specially formulated to increase the size of that certain part of the male body!"
"Yes! It really is that simple! Just take Extenze daily and within a week, you'll see results! Not only that, but you'll be lasting longer and delivering better than ever before!"
"Let's talk to some real couples about how Extenze has changed their relationships!"
Let's not. I mute the television, not wanting to hear the badly acted testimonials.
Well now, what's it been, thirty seconds since this load of crap came on? Yea, thirty seconds…
It is truly amazing how quickly a commercial has managed to make me feel almost completely inadequate. Wow. Just, wow. So, now you see my issue?
"Mels?" I try again, raising my voice a little this time. I pause the TiVo, more out of habit than anything else, right on the order screen. Extenze: daily male enhancement displayed boldly, brightly (patronizingly) on the set, the 800 number following it up.
I glance back at it, gnawing at the inside of my bottom lip in annoyance before bringing my attention to Mello. Nudging him in the crook of his knee with my left foot, I lean in, kissing the nape of his neck.
"Mels," I say evenly, right next to his ear. Heavy sigh, rustling of sheets, and I'm met with half open topaz eyes. He props himself up on one elbow, all but glaring at me in the artificial blue glow of the television.
"What?" Damn, half asleep and he's still so commanding. I let my eyes wander down his exposed chest, past his toned pectorals and over his taut stomach, to where the sheets fall gracefully over his hip. "Ahem." My eyes snap back to his face, where a raised eyebrow and sleepy smirk greet me. "What?" he repeats again, slightly less irritated this time.
"Uh…well," I redirect my line of sight down to my hands, then the wall, then the television which is still paused on the order screen, and finally back to Mello. He loses the smirk, actually looking confused for a moment before following my previous actions. "I… was just wondering if, like, I should-"
I hear him give a slight growl from deep within his throat, gruff and agitated (and sexy as hell, let me tell you), before his lips are one mine, moving, forcing my mouth open and molesting my tongue with his own. A little jarring, but that's Mello for you. As soon as I have the mind to kiss back, he lets up, pulling back abruptly, and grabbing my jaw in a vice grip (bruises ahoy!) forces me to look him straight in the eye.
"NO." He says, his voice dropping to that sexy, don't-fuck-with-me, Mafioso falsetto that I love so much.
Well, that's all the answer I need. I blink a few times, wide-eyed, before he lets go of me and turns over again.
Rubbing my already sore jaw, I settle down and jab my thumb onto the power button of the television. And, smiling, I nuzzle in to the nape of his neck in the darkness as I hear him mutter groggily,
"Can't believe you fucking woke me up to ask if your dick was big enough. Christ, Matt."