Author's Note: So I decided to make a companion piece to Time To Be Honest. I am in a mood for sweetness and fluff right now, because the next few chapters of Ad Interim and Game Over are going to be kind of...difficult to write. You'll see. Anyways, I'm really glad for all the feedback I've been getting for all my stories. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. ) I've also got some new stories planned, and two others that I'm currently working on, so keep checking back for updates! Onward!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Know why? Mello never gets naked.

Warning: Rated the same as Time To Be Honest for the same reasons - Mello has a pottymouth, and Mello likes talking about sex. That's all. It's perfectly safe for teens, but I'm playing it safe.

It's not every day that you meet a kid like Matty. Hell, I barely remember a time without that little punk. We were so young when we met, both alone and homeless, without parents or friends. I don't even know how we started talking. I just know that when he took my hand and asked me to play, I couldn't say no. He was the answer to all my questions. The angel in my prayers.

Who could've guessed?

I faintly remember being back at Wammy's. I remember hating that fucking Near, and I remember hanging out with Matt. Matt and I rewrote Near's laptop once. It was great - we put porn all over it, then paid one of the girls to tell Roger. I remember that we got caught...but Matt and I still felt like Gods for pulling it off. I remember the day that I first began to have true feelings for Matt. We were talking in our room, not long after Matt had started smoking. He pulled himself up to the windowsill to have a smoke, and I saw the perfect silhouette of God in the moonlight.

I never thought he'd follow me.

When I ran away from Wammy's, it was partly to stop my own feelings. I got the hell out of there so I didn't have to work with fucking Near, but also so that I might keep from falling for my best friend. It didn't work. The deeper I got into the real world, the more I thought about him. On his birthday, I would throw a party for him. Except he wasn't invited.

I learned to kill.

I joined the Mafia shortly after I left the orphanage. I learned to kill. I had to kill; if I didn't kill, I would be killed. Logical, really. But every time I shot my gun, I thought about Matt. He hated killing. He didn't approve of hunting, fishing, or butterfly-catching. He's the only person who knows about my fear of death, and being exposed to so much death at once...it really traumatized me. But you learn to deal with it. You become numb to everything. You stop remembering what emotions feel like.

I never thought Matt would find me.

When I came home to the stench of cigarette smoke, I was floored. He hadn't changed a bit, save for a few manly adjustments. He had a six-pack. Nice. I must have changed, though. He eyes bugged when he saw me. Was it my hair, my face, or my gun? Who knows? Ah well. He moved in with me, and we soon became lovers. I don't know how that happened, either. It just did. It just...felt right. He felt right. Everything about him just clicked into my life.

I really think I love that boy.

I love it when he thinks I'm not watching, because I know he knows I am.

I love it when I catch his lustful stare, because I know he wants me to flaunt the body he loves so much.

I love it when he's absorbed in a video game, because I know I can sneak up behind him and wrap my arms around him. I like catching him off-guard.

I love it when he steps out of the shower, because I know he doesn't mind my eyes on his wet hair, sleek body, and pink-tinted skin. He's not an angel. He's a God.

I love it when we're in bed together, because I know he'll let me top him, even though he would rather be the man.

I love it when he's in the mood for wild animal sex, because I know he craves my fingernails on his back. And I love giving him what he wants.

I love it when he's so tired that the goggles slip off his face, because I know I can kiss his eyes unhindered.

I love it when he listens to my rants, because I know it makes him feel special. And I love having someone to talk to.

I love it when he poses for a picture, because I know that he's as nervous as I am. If Kira got my camera, we would both die. But I wouldn't let that happen to him.

I love it when Matt tries to cook, because I know he's trying. Even if he burns cereal.

I love it when he chooses to wear sweat pants around the house, because I know that he's comfortable around me. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he cares about his appearance.

I love it when he plays with my hair, because I know I can trust him to make me look perfect.

I love it when he puts on my clothes when he thinks I'm asleep, because I know he wants to feel powerful. Like me.

I love it when I wake up from a nightmare, because I know his arms are always waiting for me.

I love it when I'm covered with blood, because I know he'll gently clean my skin and kiss every wound.

I love it when he's in the mood for music, because I know he'll want me to dance with him.

I love it when he's drunk enough to pass out, because I know he'll let me carry him to bed and tease him about his hangover.

Most of all, I love Matt because he's Matt. Nobody has ever held my heart before...yet I've given my body, soul, and spirit to Matty. He's the one person that I can relax around. He's perfect and quirky, and I love every inch of him. I would gladly live for Matt, and I would gladly die for Matt. We'll be together until the final hours of our lives. It's us until the end, just me and Matt. And I wouldn't have it any other way.