A/N: Sorry everyone! It's been a long while since I've updated or even uploaded old and new stories. To make up for that, I've decided to give you this. It's an idea that I thought of today while walking home from school. Please read and review! Thanks!


'Chocolate bar. . . Chocolate bar. . . Ooh. . . Strawberry Whoppers. I wonder if Mello will let me waste his money on strawberries?' the gamer took one second to decide and headed for the cashier to pay for his items. On the way home, Matt consumed about two boxes of the pink treat. He left one aside to surprise his boyfriend who was currently busy with the Kira case back at the Mafia hideout.

When Matt arrived at his newly, renovated apartment, he made quick haste in disposing the strawberry whoppers in three different chocolate whopper boxes. He sealed them as best as he could, it almost looked brand new. Now all that was left, was for Mello to return home from work.

About a lunch meal and a shower later, the blonde Mafia returned home and sat down on the couch of their living room. Mello instinctively grabbed a box of supposedly all chocolate malt balls and began devouring them. Matt watched from his hiding spot in the kitchen. He almost laughed when he spotted a pink ball among all the chocolates. The handful of the sugary candy disappeared into the chocoholic's mouth. Nothing out of the ordinary happened until about 20 seconds in.

"Matt. . ."

"Yes, Mello?" the gamer walked into the living room and stood a few feet from the perplexed blonde.

"Did you buy the wrong chocolates. . . or did you purposely tampered with them?"

"Uh. . . neither!" Matt replied innocently after having a quick debate in his head.

"Funny," Mello wondered, tipping his head to the side, "then did the manufacturer accidentally placed strawberries into my chocolate?" Mello eyed the gamer critically.

"Possibly," Matt answered while looking elsewhere. Mello stood up and walked over to stand where the gamer stood,

"You suck at lying, Matt." In his right hand, held between the blonde's forefinger and thumb was the piece of evidence that the gamer had forgotten to erase. The receipt had given Matt's plan away. The gamer glared at the accusing piece of paper.

"Well, you see. . ." Matt reasoned, but he was pulled forward by the front of his shirt, straight into a kiss.

"Shut up."