AN: technically this is not a new story since it's been on my flash drive for a long time…. i'm posting incomplete works now, just so its logged that i've had the idea …and hopefully set my muse to finish these beasts hahaha.

Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from the anime/manga Death Note

Suggested Listening: The Hunger - Fireflight

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Part 1

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Their eyes met and for a fraction of a second he could recall the voice that had spoken so harshly to him what seemed like a lifetime ago. "Cut it out with the bullshit and say what you want." He had been called on the looks, the 'accidental' touches, and the dancing around subjects as they spoke.

He shifted his gaze and continued walking as though he had never laid eyes on him; as if he did not exist. It was confusing and frustrating and completely unfair to the both of them. It had happened all at the wrong time, and his reply had been full of hatred and lies.

He smirked hollowly at a stupid joke thrown by a friend, and nodded when appropriate. He was in Hell. The feeling, the want-need-hunger...was driving him to insanity. What he wanted was to throw him up against one of the lockers, feel the warm flesh of his stomach against his fingertips, place his mouth against the pulse of his neck and slowly bite down-

"Matt," his friend Marcellus smacked him in the arm with a warning look before glancing to make sure no one noticed, "Whatever you are thinking of get rid of it. Your fangs are showing."

Matt cleared his throat and forced all thoughts of Mello from his mind. The blond was off limits―the reason unknown―and no matter how strongly he was attracted, how much he wanted and longed for the other, or how Mello apparently wanted him, he could do nothing more than walk passed. As if Mello was worth nothing more than the gum on the underside of his shoe. "I'm good now."

"Glad to hear that. I would hate to see you transferred," Marcellus told him and Matt was certain the African native was being truthful despite being his senior of many years. It was rare for someone of Marcellus's stature to want to be in school where―in Matt's opinion―everything was much more complicated. Matt was still new to it all and had no choice where he ended up for the foreseeable future. He had only been a member of the 'club' for sixty-five years; Marcellus was going on eight hundred. He was an elder who lived as a fledgling. It confused quite a few.

"I will see you later for our meeting." Marcellus nodded and Matt watched the stocky 'teen' quickly head for his class. Matt shook his head. He doubted if given the time he would ever be able to discern the reason the elder had for living in eternal Hell―or High School.

Matt's class was at the other end of the hall, however a stop at his locker had been of need. A quick change of games as well as the needed books for the rest of the day and he was leisurely ambling to History. They would be learning about the Saxons again today. Oh joy. He had already been through that course twice and it never became any more interesting.

Yeah, he was part of the Vamp club. Members not so exclusive anymore after the Salem 'witch' trials that had actually been more detrimental to the vampire clans that the actual hags. As of now there was not a single vampire in existence that had reached a thousand years old. It was pitiful really. Hunters had gotten rather good at actually hunting them since the old days. Sure there were more people and larger areas to immerse themselves in but if you killed there was no waiting to move―you left and did not stop to gather more than the essentials, if even that. The hunters were ridiculous with finding the smallest clues.

Matt remembered the night he had been turned. He and this girl from class had been at her place, since her parents were out. She had her pouty lips kissing down his stomach, across his hip―and going for what Matt thought was the kill zone―only for the bitch to sink her fangs into him. At the time Matt had only been able to process 'Ow teeth in my hip' and shoved her away. Or until he had seen the lovely pointed fangs and slowly reddening eyes as she snarled up at him from the floor. So like any normal human being...he had screamed and grabbed the nearest heavy object to bludgeon her to death. Only it had simply pissed her off. A little creative ingenuity―involving tripping over a kitchen chair and then using said chairs broken off leg to repeatedly stab her in the chest―he killed her.

And then the door had burst open with more teeth and fangs drawn. Matt had been certain he was well and truly fucked. Until the 'are you injured?' was asked and Matt figured it was an OK time to faint. He had woken in an all white room with a young boy staring at him. His name was Near. Apparently the chick he had been hoping to get lucky with was actually a little over seventy years old―ewww?―and did not follow the "Sip not Drain" policy. He would have been her eighth victim. Instead he was a new member of the V-club.

No, not Virgin club.

Vampire.

He had been less than thrilled. In fact he may have ranted and mentioned werewolves in the process. Which were apparently only fictional creatures. It figured. Cue loads of training on how not to loose your afterlife or accidentally turn someone, and he was shipped off to eternal High School Hell.

In retrospect, Matt supposed he should be happy he was even breathing, if only figuratively.

He had been content. At least until he had reached vampiric maturity and all the cravings came in. It had been something touched upon when he had been in the white mansion, but hearing about something and experiencing that were two different things. It was more than hearing the pulsing heartbeat and rush of blood in every living organism; it was the lust and high that came with it. Matt knew all too well that it was so easy to loose yourself in the ecstasy and just drain what you were sipping from. Even if it was only a blood pouch. With Mello however, it was more than the urge to stick his teeth in his nice and pulsy flesh. He was attracted to him, sexually and intellectually. It was a horrid combination.

He sighed and turned his game off. Poor Mario had already died three times in the last minute. Matt closed his eyes behind the goggles he wore and wished, not for the first time, that he had never set eyes on Mello, had never spoken to him, never almost kissed him.

There was no reason given as to why Mello was off limits, as no one was off limits in the human world if you could get them, but Matt would bet all his chips that it had to do with the odd looks the elders had when speaking of him. They called it fledgling lust and nothing more. Told him to look elsewhere, find love, lust, whatever he wanted—just not Mello.

The bell rang and Matt picked up his things. There was a meeting that night. The first one in almost ten years. There were whispers in the community of a council change, an uprising or challenge. They were mixed and conflicting, almost as if purposely misleading to disguise the true agenda. Matt would not be surprised in all honesty. His only concern was how to convince the council of elders not to transfer him elsewhere.

With an internal groan he took the steps leading down from the school by twos and hiked it to the student parking area where his car was waiting for him. If vampires had super speed, Matt had gotten majorly gypped. Turning the key, he hoped this would not be the last time he parked in that spot.

He felt the sting of longing as a familiar blond passed alongside the car, heading to his own ride, and did not once look over at him. "Someday, Mello." Matt muttered and slowly rolled out of the lot.