AN: I woke up really late yesterday… my alarm had been set for an unknown reason and "Only the Good Die Young" had been playing on a loop for about 20 minutes- I'm still wondering how I managed to sleep through that. Anyway it has now been playing on a loop IN MY HEAD ever since and I got to thinking about Matt and Mello, and those two factors got together and produced this sick, twisted love child that you have decided to read. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or the amazing Billy Joel's "Only the Good Die Young" (If you do not like either of these things, I now ask you to imagine me glaring at you and telling you none too politely to leave)
Warnings: Yaoi (but no lemons, I wouldn't be able to write that), swearing, and Mello (although he's Christian in this story)
Sinners Have Much More Fun
"I think you'll like it here… your roommate is quite…unique," the old man, who had asked me to call him Roger, said with a devious smile that he masked none too well. He must not like children. In all honesty, doesn't seem like a very moral person. He's also a bit…'fabulous'… to put it politely. I'll say a prayer for him. After walking down the long, boring corridor for what seemed like forever, we arrived at my room.
I had spent the walk thinking of all the terrible things "unique" could've meant. It could've been anything, from him being that weird kid who stuck his boogers on things to a soulless heathen who sacrificed squirrels in his closet while chanting prayers to his false God. I had pretty thick skin though, and I figured I could handle anything, except…
Roger opened the door. The room was pretty nice, two neatly made beds, two simple desks made from a nice dark wood, almost nothing out of place, oh yeah, and the TWO THIRTEEN YEAR OLD BOYS MAKING OUT IN THE CORNER NEAR THE DOOR TO THE BATHROOM.
A skinny, average height redhead with a striped shirt and goggles on (and pants, FYI), was pressing a dark haired boy of (possibly) Hispanic origin against the light blue wall of my (and unfortunately one of these fine gentlemen's) room, kissing him passionately, the couple slowly inching towards the bathroom (to do what, I did NOT want know). I gasped in horror and fell flat on my butt. The boys finally noticed our presence, and they broke apart, the darker haired one winking at the ginger before rushing out. "And THAT," began Roger with a big, self-satisfied smirk, "is your room-mate, Matt. SURPRISE, HE'S GAY!"
Poor homophobic Mello. What terrible thing happened to make him such a prude? I wrote this story, that's what. My friend urged me to keep that last line in there, so sorry if it seems OCC. And yes, I know Mello is kinda OCC, but I intended that. The point of the story is to show how Matt made him into the Mello we all know and love. Sorry it's short; I'll make it up to you with strippers and cake (in that order). I'm not quite sure how to rate this. The random kid who made out with Matt deserves applause and a name... Pablo.
Love you like you're cake,