Disclaimer:i dont own death note or the characters(sadly for me, happily for them bc theyd all be tortured one way or another)
Matt sat in front of his television, intent on killing the hundreds of zombies taking over the screen. It was 12 in the morning and he had been playing this specific game since 7.
His phone rang, which gave him an excuse to get up and get a cigarette. "Hello," he answered, grabbing a cancer stick from the pack.
"Matt. Help. Trace the call and get me... please."
The line disconnected and Matt dropped the cigarette he was holding. He knew that voice, God did he know it. It had changed so much, but he immediately recognized it.
Mello.
He traced the call quickly and grabbed his car keys. He half-ran, half-galloped down to his red beauty of a car, pulling on his brown fur vest at the same time.
"Oh god," was all he could think as he sped through the streets. Mello had been badly injured or sick, his voice had been very weak on the phone.
Making his last right, Matt immediately saw a building that hadcollapsed to the ground. Either it had been blown up, or God had gotten pissed off and smashed it. He went for the first.
Matt got out and searched among the rubble. He finally came across a figure that he knew was Mello. The only way he could tell was by the vibrant blonde hair. He wasn't suprised to see Mello in leather wearing leather, it just looked very different on him.
He picked Mello up bridal-style and examined his best friend. He was obviously near the explosion when it happened because his flesh was charred from the left side of his face, all the way down to the middle of his torso. Mello was out like a light, which made it better when the red-head layed him across the back seat of his car. "Fuck, Mells," he said, flooring the car backwards and getting the hell out of there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Matt gently carried the leather-clad blonde into his shitty apartment and layed him on the couch with care. This startled him out of his reverie and he practically whimpered, "Matt, fuck, it hurts." Matt couldn't hear because he was in the very back of the apartment.
He walked into the living room with a first-aid kit and what looked like many numbing drugs. "Hold on. And don't kill me because this is gonna hurt like hell, and I can't do shit about it."
Mello glared as well as he could half asleep and in pin. He was in the kind of pain that blinds you if you make the wrong move. "It was worth it," he thought,"Soichiro Yagami's dead, finally." Matt grabbed a drug and injected the Catholic devil with a healthy amount of it. The pain subsided as Matt cleaned Mello up, pulling strips of leather off and wiping away blood and debris.
During the process of bandaging, Mello whimpered a few times and bit his lip to fight back tears. They weren't only tears for his pain, though.
He was thinking about how he left Matt, his best friend, without a good-bye four years ago. Not only that, when they were at Wammy's he treated Matt like shit usually, but the smoker's loyalty never faultered. And now, after he knew leaving Matt had eatena way at the other man slowly, Matt had saved him.
Matt bandaged Mello's face and torso, all the while thinking about his idiocy. Mello had left him, hell, slowly killed him at that, and yet he saved the other anyway. He didn't regret it at all, he just didn't unerstand it.
After all he had suffered from Mello, and he was still like a fucking lap-dog to the boy, no the man. Mello was 20 and he was only one yar below.
They had spent four years apart, and Matt had slowly been eaten away at, like acid was slowly overcoming his body. He became, if possible, more of an intrivert and never talked. He had cried himself to sleep multiple times, and wanted to believe Mello had as well.
The thought comforted him, but he knew that Mello didn't feel a pang of regret. God, he was an idiot.
"Nice outfit, it just screams 'Mello'," he said, trying to fill the silence.
"Matt, you hate it. Don't fuck with me; I'm pissed, half blown up, and ready to kill. You look good too, by the way," Mello replied in a growl-ish voice. It could pass.
Matt rolled his eyes, but he wasn't offended. This was good, it meant he was still totally Mello. Well, in some cases that could be very bad.
"What the hell happened?" Silence. "Mello?" Silence. "Mihael Keehl!"
"Ugh, fine, I was by a building when it blew up."
Mello refused to look at Matt as the red-head was raising his eyebrows.
"So you're tellin' me that you just happened to be strolling by a building when it blew up? What kinda bull shit is that?" Mello nodded.
"Can you get me some water?"
Matt got up after a second and returned with a glass of water. He watched as the blonde chugged the water, then looked him in the eyes. "Mells, I'm not an idiot. I wasn't third in Wammy's for nothing. What really happened?"
Mello sighed and stared at Matt for a while. He could tell Matt was worried about him and really wanted to know what happened. He was Mello's best friend but Mello didn't know if he could tell him. He knew he wasn't aloud but he had never been one to follow the rules. Looking away, he said,"When I left it was to work on the Kira case, I know you must've figured that out by now. That's why. I blew up the building to kill people off the Task FOrce."
Matt wasn't shocked. If anyone were to be by a building as it exploded, it would Mello.
"Well did you at least try to le-run away?"
Matt didn't like the word "leave". It reminded him too much of what Mello haad done to him, that was something he wanted to forget.
"Well, duh! God damn, I'm not stupid Matt."
Matt looked at the ground for a minute. "Or that fast, obviously." Mello chuckleda t that comment. He may have been drugged but he could still pay attention and speak.
"Did you ever think about me after you left?" Matt asked suddenly. He just had to know. Mello looked at his pale hands for a while, thinking about what to say. Matt was really scared that he wasn't going to answer or say something bad. He didn't have to worry, though.
"Of course, I always thought about you. When I was walking outta Wammy's, when I was hunting down a mafia, when I was leading that shitty mafia, when I was killing people... when I was getting my face blown up, you never laft my mind. And, before you ask, I do regret leaving, I regret leaving you alone I wish I would've brought you to the mafia with me, Matty," Mello concluded.
"Yeah, well, I'm sure I don't look good in leather," Matt joked. He didn't want to admit that he loved Mello. Matt looked up, his uncovered eyes wary and searching for answers, when he saw Mello on the verge of tears. "It's not a joke! I love you and I left you! I'm awful, I didn't say goodbye, damn it."
Then the tears came. Matt quickly sat next to his weeping blonde on the couch and put an arm around the crying man. "It's okay, I forgive you," he repeated, rubbing soothing circles onto Mello's back. He knew it had to have been hard for Mello to start crying in front of him. He was the only one that Mello had ever cried in front of, but he still didn't like it.
Matt used two fingers to tilt Mello's face up towards him. "Mello, I'm not worth crying over. You never left my mind either, and, yes you left, but we're back together and that's all that matters. I love you . ALways."
Mello's icey blue eyes pierced Matt's emerald's ones as he took in the words that he had been waiting to here. Matt smiled to reassure him and put his lips on the blonde's.
He kept rubbing circles on Mello's back as his own was clawed at ruthlessly. SOmething in Matt snapped and he kissed Mello with more force. "Stupid bandages," he thought as he pu his hand on the right side of Mello's back and slowly began moving it down to the waistband of his leather pants.
"Wait," he said, pulling away.
"What?" Mello asked, confusion abvious in his eyes. "You're hurt... bad. We can't do that, not tonight."
Mello nodded and layed down on the couch. He held out his arms and Matt immediately let himself be wrapped in them.
"Matty, Ich liebe dich, and I'm glad to be back with you."
"Don't leave again... and even if you do, I'll always love you." Mello nodded into Matt's shoulder, thinking about how he didn't have the balls to leave again.