Re-written (partially): 5/26/2012
Allergic To Kisses
What a pleasant dream Mello was having. Oh, the glory of finally defeating Kira by himself (with the help of his awesome sidekick, a mobile phone) and shoving that victory in the hated albino's face, then snatching his title as 'number one' and claiming it as his own. Stupid sheep, who's number one now? Mello did a victory dance in his dream, when in reality he was actually sleep talking and tumbling and wiggling in his bed (y'know, victory dance).
When suddenly, an awful shriek penetrated through the walls of his bedroom. Mello shot up, lost his balance, and fell to the floor. He had been fully awoken after that (after falling face first, who wouldn't?), and with rage viciously running through his veins after being interrupted from his awesome dream, Mello clutched a pillow and immediately went to seize the one person who could produce a horrible sound like that.
"Matt!" Mello growled, throwing open his bedroom door, he looked pretty damn scary too, as if he was ready to murder someone with that mere pillow he was holding (yeah, 'cause Mello can pretty much kill anyone with any kind of object he chose to use). The chocoholic made his way where Matt usually bummed around at this time of, Mello checked the clock that was conveniently hanging from somewhere inside the room, afternoon.
"Matt! Why the fuck are you so damn noisy in the early after-!"
Mello was just about to beat Matt up that pillow, when the gamer turned around and revealed a not-so attractive looking face.
"Meewooow~!" Matt cried. A scream followed after – it was from Mello. "Yo'w s'ho meah'n!" Matt cried once more after seeing Mello's utterly shocked reaction. He had a look that almost said, 'what the fuck is that thing?'
"W-what happened to your…face?" Mello tried to analyze what exactly was wrong with the gamer, tilting his head from left to right to form something from the awkward looking shape.
Apparently, that's Matt's bottom lip, all cherry red and swollen up, so much that it had practically engulfed his whole chin.
"I w'hent to the doc'hter this m'horning ah'n he s'hed…"
"Wait. What?" Mello scrunched his eyebrows and moved closer to hear.
"I s'hed! …I w'hent to the doc'ther this m'horning ah'n he s'hed…"
"Wait. I can't fucking understand you, Matt. Here," Mello had given up interpreting what Matt was trying to say and handed him a notebook and a pen that was conveniently lying around the sofa. Matt rolled his eyes and, after grabbing the items, started scribbling furiously.
"And you're supposed to be smart, huh?" He crossed out the first part. No, he not only crossed it out, Matt also ripped it off and tore it to pieces, fearing what Mello might, and most probably would, do to him after reading that piece. Mello only gave him a weird look, before Matt finally held up a page. "I said, I went to the doctor this morning and he said it was some sort of allergy…"
"Allergy? To what?"
Matt flipped onto a new page and began scribbling on it. "Unfortunately, chocolate… lol. Can you believe it?"
Mello read the piece of paper, ignored the 'lol' part, and replied, "Chocolate? You serious?" Matt nodded once. "Well, that's not going to be much of a problem then. I'm the only one who eats chocolate around here. Just make sure to drink your medications. You do have them, right?" Matt nodded twice. "Just get well soon. Okay, Matty?"
But this time, Matt shook his head, quickly stepping back as Mello moved towards him, lips puckered and ready to kiss. Mello blinked his eyes in confusion when he felt no lips over his own.
"What the hell was that?" Mello demanded, but Matt only looked back at him. "Well? You should be damn happy I'm still willing to kiss you in that condition!"
Matt sighed hopelessly, not sure on how to explain to Mello, but nevertheless he took out his handy-dandy notebook and began writing on a clean page. "Of course I'd be fucking happy! But the problem is, Mels, you eat chocolate. I'm not allowed to make contact with chocolate. Meaning, I'm not allowed to make contact with you. Well, I can't kiss you, at least."
"What's the connection?"
Matt rolled his eyes; Mello just couldn't take a hint, huh? "Well, duh. Where do you think you stuff all your chocolate? Up your nose?" Matt didn't hear a reply though, instead he'd only seen a dissatisfied look fall upon Mello's face. Then Matt nudged him, and looked at him with those big, emerald, pleading eyes (a look which Mello or anyone else could not ever resist) "It hurts, Mello. It hurts a lot."
The blonde looked at him intently for a few seconds before mumbling a curse under his breath, and finally being convinced. "Fine… Okay… Only because your lip is swelling like that and you're in pain."
Being grateful, Matt followed up another piece of paper that said, "Thanks, Mels. We can still hug :)" and flashed Mello an enthusiastic smile. And although Matt's lip looked like a blimp that was about to explode, he looked surprisingly cute.
"Sure we can…" Mello, who was obviously not enthusiastic about the whole thing, replied.
And with that, the chocoholic dismissed the incident. He just needed to be a little patient, right? Wrong. Mello? Patient? The only time you'll be seeing those two words together in a sentence is when is not is in between them.
. . .
"Mother of friggin' god, Matt!"
Matt made his way around the kitchen, ignoring the chocoholic who was tailing him from behind. He grabbed some stuff, headed to the living room and sat back at their worn-out couch. He put his feet over the not-so sturdy coffee table, grabbed the remote, flicked the television on, and started munching on a pack of Pop-tarts – because Mello, who was supposed to be cooking for them that night, was too busy going on about why he still can't kiss him.
"Why won't you still let me kiss you? It's been days. And, and your lip doesn't look like an overgrown caterpillar anymore! Why?" Mello raved on, but instead of being his usual whiny, temperamental, 'I'll gun everything in my sight until I get what want' self, he sounded distressed and yearning and upset. And was he pleading?
But Matt gave him the same reply he had given him every time this came up. "I can't risk it Mels, you know how much it hurts and I don'twant to bloat up again."
Mello whimpered in frustration and miserably made his way back to his room.
This whole thing between Matt not kissing Mello became a regular basis now. The sweet, passionate, kisses they always shared have been neglected for a good god-knows-how-long now, all because Matt was a paranoid twat. At least that was what Mello thought.
Like in the morning when the blonde usually gave the sleeping gamer a good morning kiss. Matt ends up waking just before Mello could make his move, as if he could sense Mello making his move. And everything goes as follows:
"No…" When Mello leans it for the kiss.
"Why the fuck not? It's early in the morning! I haven't had chocolate!" He replies. And Matt looks at him with a look that resembled a nagging woman.
"Have you brushed your teeth yet?"
"Unbelievable." And Mello rolls out of bed and heads of to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Or at night just before they go to sleep. Mello usually gives a kiss on Matt's forehead, but he can't because the little l ends up ducking down or hiding under the sheets. Mello was too frustrated to even think of a good insult to call Matt.
"Nu-uh." Matt says under the sheets.
"What?" Mello demands.
"I don't want my forehead to swell up!" Matt whines.
"You do know that this is my room, you know, where the chocolate stash is?" Mello says nonchalantly, but hears no reply from Matt. Then Mello explodes. "Get out of my fucking room!"
Sometimes when Mello wants to kiss Matt, but forgets about his condition:
"Why won't you kiss me?" Mello becomes persistent and all begging.
"Lay off the chocolates!" Matt demands.
"I can't!" Mello protests.
"Then no." And Matt sounds absolute.
Or even when Mello tries to kiss Matt, but ends up being caught holding a chocolate bar:
"I haven't had any, I promise." Mello casually hides his chocolate bar behind his back, not knowing he was already spotted.
"You're holding one, aren't you?"
"Yeah…" And then Mello walks away, defeated.
. . .
Some very long, agonizing time later, Mello's lack of patience finally got the better of him. If this were to continue on, he was sure to snap like a twig. So one day, Mello composed himself in a way Mellos should act, got a grip on his sanity, and forced his authority supreme.
"Get up, lazy-ass." He ordered, gently (at least it was supposed to be gentle) shoving Matt's legs off the coffee table with his foot. Matt noticed the change in Mello, and it didn't take a genius to know that he had already reverted from the whole begging, miserable phase to his old hostile ways.
"Jeez, Mello, what's up with you?"
Matt heard a loud hiss. Not a good sign. So he immediately, shut his mouth, got up from the seat, and followed Mello. "Where are we going anyway?" He asked once he was able to catch up with the blonde.
Mello didn't reply until they'd walked past the hall, went down the rusting staircase, arrived at the parking lot and had settled themselves inside the car.
"To the doctor…" He finally said, starting the engine.
Mello, once again, didn't reply and just drove. Drove until they've reached a familiar clinic; Matt had seen this before and this was the same clinic he had consulted from.
Once entered, Mr. Doctor what's-his-name greeted Matt and recognition (he greeted Mello too, but the blonde ignored him) "Mr. Jeevas, how's it been? I've been waiting for you to drop by." He said politely, scanning some papers attached to the clipboard he was holding. "I have important matters to discuss with you…"
"You gave him your last name?" Mello said in disbelief, whispering into Matt's ear.
"Does this man look like Kira to you?" Matt retorted, whispering back; when the doctor suddenly turned to the two. They quickly straightened up – well, Matt did. Mello didn't care.
"The thing is…" The doctor begun, but was abruptly cut off by Mello.
"Listen, doc, before anything else, I came here to know one thing and one thing only. When is…" Mello paused then glanced back at Matt. He saw him twirling a strand of lose thread from his sweater. "…this thing going to get better? You said he was allergic to chocolate, right? When will he not be?"
The doctor gave a jolly laugh, which irked Mello just a little bit, and replied. "That's what I was supposed to say. I've had some minor miscalculations, and apparently your friend isn't allergic to chocolate after all!"
"What?" The two said in unison – in different tones. While Matt's was in surprise and relief, Mello's was in annoyance in its greatest form.
"It appears that it's malt you have to look out for," the doctor said and looked at Matt. "Please continue to take your medications though, at least until the end of the month."
"So it was malt. It must've been that Milo drink thing I bought!"
"Malt. All this time it was malt…" Mello said bitterly through gritted teeth. And you needn't need to know how truly pissed of the blonde was, because judging by the he was grasping the mini-gun he hid at the back of his pants (y'know, in case of emergencies… Or when he just felt like using it), Mello was about to commit the next Los Angeles murder case. "Matt, you and your paranoia are going to get it." Mello glowered intensely at Matt.
"Now, hold on, Mello. It wasn't my fault-!" Matt backed up cautiously, holding his hands up in defense.
"No. On second thought… You're not going to get it after all." Mello said, now calming down as he loosened his grip on the weapon, 'til he finally let go. "In fact, you're not going to get any of it. Ever." And with that, Mello gave a last glare at Matt before exiting the clinic. Right before adding, "Even your car."
The engine had started and the car zoomed out of earshot. Matt sighed dejectedly and checked his pockets.
"Shit. No cash."