Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

A/N: I have some things planned for this story, but it all depends on if anyone reads it. But this story and the chapters to come have been stuck in my head now im just trying to release them. Of course critics are happily welcomed. Well enough talk. Here it is. Enjoy. OH and the title referes to Death Note Rewrite.

Mello sighed to himself. He never seemed to smile anymore; smirk maybe but never smile. There was a certain way Mello liked to be viewed and cold sadistic asshole was definitely it. Smiling, he figured, didn't exactly go with cold and sadistic. But being a mean hearted bastard didn't mean he could smile every once in a while. Truth was it wasn't just because he was in the mafia that he couldn't smile; it was that he plain lost the ability to.

He couldn't help but remember when he first started out. His hands had always been drenched in the blood of whoever was in shooting distance and he had enjoyed it, loved it in fact, but somehow for whatever reason, that joy was long gone. It was now replaced with hollowness and no matter how hard he tried, death no longer brought him solace and not even chocolate could help him.

The blonde boy looked over at the clock and sighed once more. He got up from his place on his bed and made his way out of his room. There was supposed to be an exchange going on in the basement of the warehouse and he'd had more than enough time to himself for the time being.

The exchange wasn't exactly crucial to the members of the mafia, but more of his boss' "thing". It was Rod's way of merely buying prostitutes as soon as he got tired of the ones he had.

There was a reason Rod was the boss of the mafia, he was smart and from his position of course he was tough, but Mello couldn't help but think his addiction to sex would add up to his inevitable downfall.

As Mello got closer to the door leading to the basement, his ears took in the sound of his boss, Rod, moaning in pain. Mello, thinking again life a killer, quickly reached into his leather pants and pulled out a gun; slowly walked to the door. A smirk grew on his face; he couldn't help it. Maybe if he was lucky, he would kill something that could get him back to love the sight of blood once again.

The moans from the other side of the door got even more estranged as he kept walking and he could hear Rod now gasping for air. Swiftly, he leaned in and pushed the door open, firing a warning shot into the room, before raising the gun to one of the only faces in the room he didn't know.

"Mello drop it!" A deep voice shook the building and Mello turned his attention to the large mass that made up his boss. Mello suddenly lost purchase on the gun and it fell from his hand as he finally made out the scene before him.

Rod sat in the middle of the room on what was called the "fuck couch", his gray suit disheveled and his pants loose, but that wasn't where his attention was.

If Mello had bothered to look around, he would have noticed the 3 men that didn't make up his mafia, point their guns to his head. He would have noticed a man in a suit telling the other two to "lower their guns and to be respectful." He would have noticed the dreamy almost smug smile on the suited man's face as he eyed the stash of money Rod used for exchanges.

He would have noticed all these things, if it wasn't for what was currently in between Rod's legs.

No, his attention wasn't on any of these things, but instead on a frail form that was kneeling in front of Rod; the older man's penis was not even a centimeter from the boys' mouth.

"Matt…"

The boys' dark blue eyes were wide as they held Mello's intense gaze. He had orange goggles that sat on top his head, and Rod's hands were twisted in shocking red hair.

Rod watched Mello for a second, noticing him acting out of character, before turning back to the man he was doing business with. "I'm sorry about this, Aiber; Mello here is a bit trigger happy." There was no actual apology to his words at all, only trying to keep peace. He wanted this boy.

"No harm done." Aiber chuckled warmly. "So, is the deal done? You want him?"

Matt broke his eye contact with Mello and he got up and practically ran to Aiber's side. "Aiber, you can't sell me to them!" Matt whispered fiercely into his ear.

"And why the hell not?" Matt glared at the man before him.

"You need me," He reasoned.

"Need is such a strong word," Aiber laughed dryly, "I need money. I wouldn't use need in the same sentence as you, Matt."

"You promised not to do this. You never said who..."

Matt glanced back at the blonde. Mello had regained his composure, picking up the gun that was on the floor and was wearing his mafia smirk. Even as he looked the part of a cold ruthless killer, his mind was going at a million miles a minute with questions and memories that all had something to do with the red haired, blue eyed boy in front of him.

Rod reset his pants and suit back to place and bent down to the bag of money on the floor, picked it up and waved it around in the air to get Aiber's attention.

He wanted this boy. Just looking at Matt made the warm feeling of needing to release return to the core of his stomach. This boy was special and there was no way he'd give up the chance to own him. Mafia men weren't known for being generous, but suddenly money was no issue.

"I think it's my turn to apologize," Aiber grabbed a hold of Matt's small arm harshly and shoved him into Rod's direction. Satisfied, Rod threw the bag to Aiber's awaiting hands.

He laughed dryly. "No harm done." He then turned to Mello and nodded to Matt. "Show our new friend here the rooms will ya?"

Mello could only manage a small nod.

A/N: :O Mello and Matt know eachother? Matt doesn't seem to be all that happy to be in the same room as Mello does he? hmm..I wonder why? Review and maybe you'll find out. Thank you for reading!