A/N: Hello, all! :) This little bugger of an idea popped into my head and was so confused and unplanned that I knew it would be better if I left it that way. The concept itself is confusing, so why shouldn't it be? In other words, read at your own risk. Much ambiguity involved. Make what you want to of it.

But, over all, enjoy!

~ -I- -N- -N- -O- -C- -E- -N- -C- -E- ~ | ~ -I- -N- -N- -O- -C- -E- -N- -C- -E- ~ | ~ -I- -N- -N- -O- -C- -E- -N- -C- -E- ~

We were so young.

I wish I could say we were innocent, too, but, hell, I'd been in the Mafia for a year and a half and Matt wasn't a virgin.

He told me so, back at the orphanage. He told me it happened before he came. He was eleven when he arrived.

I never asked.

I was a virgin, though. My entire life revolved around Catholicism. I was meant to grow up, marry my blushing virgin bride, and have children like we were the last two people on Earth.

I almost laughed at the thought. Well, I wasn't getting married, and I certainly wasn't having children with Matt. He hardly fit the role of "blushing bride," either.

I sold Matt my virginity in exchange for his life.

He doesn't see it that way of course, and would be horrified if he knew that the thought ever entered my head.

"Will you do it?" I demanded, hardening my eyes until they were like shards of ice embedded in my corneas.

"Aw, hell, Mello," Matt sighed, running a gloved hand through his sleek auburn hair. His teal eyes, unguarded for once, didn't meet mine. He took a deep drag off his cigarette and dropped it, grinding out the glowing end with the heel of his boot before answering.

"Yes, I'll do it, Mello. But you know why I'm doing it."

Of course. Matt wasn't agreeing to my suicide plan because he really cared whether or not Kira reigned. He was doing it because he didn't see a reason not to. I'd asked him. He loved me. Of course he would do it.

"Yeah," I muttered, turning away from him, for the first time feeling awkward in my tight leather pants and midriff-exposing vest since I met up with him a few weeks ago. I felt so changed since our days at the orphanage. So… shamefully changed. The Mello we both remembered would never have asked Matt to put himself in danger for such personal reasons, reasons that weren't even his own.

It was strange, really, to feel his suddenly ungloved hand gently take my wrist. I would have thought he would be repulsed by touching me. He wasn't.

"Mello," he murmured, "look at me."

What could I do but obey?

I took a deep breath and turned, and was surprised to find Matt's face level with mine, mere inches from my own.

For the longest moment we just stared at each other, as if seeing something new in each other for the first time.

I saw that Matt hadn't changed one bit since our friendship at the orphanage. He was still unswervingly loyal, even when I asked from him the impossible. The most precious thing he owned, and I wanted it. I would give him what he wanted in return, my most precious possession.

I don't know exactly what Matt saw, but it was enough.

It must have been, because there was no doubt in his eyes. There was no doubt in the way he used his grip on my wrist to pull me in. There was no doubt in the way his other arm snaked around my back, arching my body into his. And there was certainly no doubt in the fervor with which he was so suddenly kissing me.

In that kiss, I understood a lot of things I hadn't before.

Matt was innocent.

Somehow, we made it to a bedroom, I'll never remember whose- somehow, we managed to tumble onto the duvet, a harmonious tangle of caressing limbs and gleaming hair and sweat-shined skin and lips and tongues…

It was too much. We were so young.

We hadn't even undressed yet.

He kissed me till my mouth was sore with kissing, my lips swollen and chapped. He touched me all over my body, without shame.

He slipped my shirt over my head so he could caress my naked chest.

He bent down so that his silky red hair fell in his eyes and kissed and licked and suck my neck until I cried out with pleasure and thought that i would rise up in more and more pleasure until I could hardly bear another moment of it, and then he plunged his face into my belly and bit me hard just above the navel so that I flinched in pain and pushed him away and found that I was screaming and fighting him off instead of sighing.

He turned me over and lay his long lean body against my back, lifting a handful of my hair so he could nibble at the nape of my neck and press himself against me so that I felt his hardness even through the leather pants I still wore. And I knew myself to be pressing back, pleading, even though it made me feel like a common whore to do it.

He thrust against me, paused, and thrust again, and I pressed back, knowing and longing for what would happen next. He went faster and I felt myself rising toward pleasure, and getting to a point where I could not stop whether I would or no- and then, before I had reached my pleasure, before he had so much as touched me skin to skin, he paused and gave a little sigh and lie down beside me again and gathered me to him and kissed my eyelids, and held me until I stopped trembling. He soothed me as if I were racked with pain instead of desire- and I could not tell the one from the other.

When finally again I could find my voice, I looked up at him, equal parts lust and confusion hazing my mind, making words difficult to find. "Why… did you… stop?" I finally managed, haltingly.

He smiled gently down at me and kissed me tenderly. "Is this really what you want?" he murmured against my lips. "Like… this?"

Tears that I would not allow to spill over welled in my eyes then, and he smiled sadly. "But…yes. There's nothing I want more than… this. With you. Please," I begged.

Upon hearing my words, his smile vanished, to be replaced with a dark, hungry look before he buried his face against the side of my throat and exhaled sharply. I shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my neck, and wrapped my arms around him.

Matt abruptly turned his head and bit hard at the flesh between my neck and shoulder, making me yelp and then moan.

What followed could only be described as the most fluent nonverbal communication.

We were both so young.

I was a virgin, but I wasn't innocent. I knew about motives- mine, specifically, and what that meant for Matt.

Matt may not have been a virgin, but he was so innocent, so pure, and saw only good reasons to do things that were asked of him…

His innocence kept him happy, so I chose not to shatter it.

~ -I- -N- -N- -O- -C- -E- -N- -C- -E- ~ | ~ -I- -N- -N- -O- -C- -E- -N- -C- -E- ~ | ~ -I- -N- -N- -O- -C- -E- -N- -C- -E- ~

A/N: Review? I'd love to hear your interpretation of this rather confused piece.