A/N: Alrighty. Well. . . This is my first attempt at a Death Note story, and my first ever smut, so I hope it doesn't suck. This started as a venting story to never see the light of day, but it became my baby, so I decided I'd post it.
Special Thanks To: MY Rose, the wonderful CatatonicVanity for not only beta-ing this, but for giving me the metaphorical kick in the ass to get me to write the not-so-innocent parts. Love ya!
Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, so don't even start.
Loving You
Sigh. It seems that sighing is all Mail Jeevas can do lately, along with the odd daydream or the occasional whimper of dejection. He feels so out of character lately, he's surprised no one has taken notice. Well, not so much that no one seems to have noticed, but more so that he hadn't been called out on it. He knows his best friend knows, and is more than surprised that the blonde has yet to interrogate him over his recent change in habits.
Best friend. Mail, now known as Matt, cringes at the term. It's not that Matt doesn't love being friends with Mihael Keehl; he is actually quite proud to say he is the only person the blonde allows close to him. Mello, as Mihael had been dubbed by his redheaded companion, wasn't a social person. With a temper that shames the most surly of men and his obsessive nature (not to mention his slight narcissistic tendencies) he doesn't exactly fit the ideal image to be in a social setting. But, that could be why the two fit together so well.
Matt himself is more easygoing, more inclined to go with whatever life throws at him. He isn't one to be angered easily, and harbors that quiet rage that so few can pull off and master. He truly can be the ice to Mello's fire; besides the temper, Matt couldn't really care less for his ranking. Not to mention his dislike for that screaming metal deathtrap Mello calls a motorcycle, or his indifference to Near, who seemingly pisses the blonde off just by breathing. Now, it isn't to say they're completely different- both have their addictions, Mello his chocolate and Matt his games and cigarettes- and both preferred to be alone. At least, until they met.
Not that it was anything like the fairytale or Hollywood version of and so the two were destined to meet, quickly forming an everlasting friendship. What bullshit. In actuality, it had taken a week, and several scuffles and fistfights, to get them to even talk to each other. Once they had, things only got worse, and the rest of the orphans at Whammy's House were left wondering who would break first.
After one of their early encounters, this one unusually violent, that left Matt- still Mail at the time- flat on his back on the ground, Mello- Mihael- snarled "Why won't you just stay down? Or at least fight me back!" Mail stood painfully, dusting himself off before evenly replying, "Then you wouldn't be as much fun." Mihael smirked, extending his hand for Mail to shake as he properly introduced himself for the first time as he chuckled. "Not bad." Such a strange way to start a friendship, no?
Friendship. There's that word again. Matt sighs again, and then turns bitter at his constant sighing. Best friend, friendship… friendzoned. No, Mello hadn't outright rejected him- hell, he doubted Mello even knew; something the lack of questions seems to confirm. God, if he actually knew, there would be more than just questions. There would be rage, and disgust, and above all, rejection. Mello would beat him to a bloody, quivering mess before dragging his mutilated body to Roger's office and demanding a new roommate. That is, if Mello was having a good day.
Today is, in fact, not a good day for the blonde. They had taken their weekly test to re-determine their rankings earlier in the day. Mello had stayed up all night, as per usual, with a whole box of chocolate and his textbooks, reviewing and re-teaching himself things Matt was sure he already knew. When morning came around in the form of Matt's shrieking alarm clock, he found Mello showered and already dressed, downing cups of scalding coffee like his beloved chocolate and going over his notes one final time. When the test commenced shortly after breakfast, Mello was apprehensive, pencil clutched tightly in his hand, fidgeting slightly in his seat every few minutes. After the end of testing, as well as their academic day, the duo returned to their room, the blonde flopping face-first into his bed and mumbling something along the lines of "Need sleep." Matt simply retired to his videogames.
All of this led to the current situation: Matt lay in his own bed, arms behind his head and legs dangling partially off of the comfortable mattress, eyes trained to the sleeping form across the room. Mello is half covered by his red comforter, blonde hair wildly spread across the pillow and still in his chosen leather attire. There is no rapid movement behind his closed eyes, indicating no dreams. He's never looked so relaxed when conscious, never so completely peaceful or vulnerable.
He's never looked so beautiful either. Matt clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. God damn it, it's thoughts like those that are so troubling! A quieted growl slips between his slightly bared teeth, directed more towards himself than anything else. But… Mello's asleep, so there's no way for him to know Matt's thoughts, right? A small fantasy Mello can't possibly know about won't cause any harm… right? Right. Matt closes his eyes again, not realizing he'd opened them, and relaxes the tension throughout his body. He clears his mind, and then…
And then he and Mello are sitting together on the carpeted floor of their shared room, laughing at each other while engaged in a competitive game of Mario Kart. Matt is winning, as custom dictates (or, more because Mello sucks at gaming, not that Matt would ever tell him so), though Mello seems happy anyway, shooting red shells at Matt's Bowser, and shoving his hand in Matt's face whenever the redhead got too far ahead. It's been forever since Mello played a game with him, and Matt is extremely grateful to whatever or whoever allowed this small miracle to occur.
As Matt nears the finish line on his final lap, he slows his character's speeding car. Just as he does so, Mello's Mario blasts past him on his motorbike. Mello blinks at the gold colored "1st Place!" on his half of the screen, looking up and glancing at Matt's silver "2nd Place!" suspiciously. Ice blue eyes meet orange covered ones, and after a moment, Mello groans "Matty…!" Matt smiles at the pet name, finding it more adorable than he probably should.
"Yes, Mellsy?" He answers with an affectionate name of his own. His lips quirk up at the name, though his eyes narrow playfully.
"You threw the game for me, didn't you?" He interprets the silence to be an affirmative answer, to which he punches Matt's arm a little too hard to be just joking. "You're an ass, you know?" A chocolate bar appears from seemingly nowhere, a corner being snapped off in a dramatic flourish and pulled into the blonde's waiting mouth.
"You love me." Matt couldn't believe what he just said. Even if he's just joking, there's a chance Mello will find out and Matt can't stand even the thought. Though despite his inner turmoil, Matt keeps smiling, if only to keep away Mello's suspicions.
Mello returns his smile. "Yeah. I do."
. . . . ?! What?!
Back the fuck up. What the hell did Mello just say? He… he loves Matt? Mello may not be the purest of souls, and he's been known to utilize his share of dirty underhanded tricks and tactics, but he never says something he doesn't mean. And he sure as hell would never say something that would hurt Matt. But then again, Mello wouldn't know it would hurt him...Besides, how often had the blonde said emotions of the caring sort weren't things he was familiar with?
As these thoughts circle around in Matt's head, Mello moves forward. Still lost in his inner debate of "He loves me, he loves me not" like a love-sick little girl, Matt doesn't notice the blonde slowly creeping up to him until it's too late. At the last moment possible, Mello tackles him to the floor, pinning the redhead down playfully. "What happened to those gamer reflexes, huh Matty?" the blonde teases, his lips quirked up into a sarcastic smile.
"I-" Matt begins a facetious reply, but is cut off by the blonde's mouth. On his own.
. . . .?!
Matt is too shell-shocked to really respond. All he can understand is that Mello is kissing him. The only things he can concentrate on are how soft Mello's lips are, how gently Mello is holding him, the feel of Mello's tongue prodding his lower lip carefully and oh god!the taste of prominent chocolate, though not overbearing, and the gentle and subtle undertones of something sweet and just a bit tangy that is all Mello. And Matt can't get enough of it.
It' s only then when Matt realizes he's been reciprocating the action, his lips pressing back against the blonde's as he parts them slightly. Mello makes a small sound of appreciation as he slips his tongue inside greedily, darting around for a few short moments before urging Matt's own wet muscle to play.
Before the redhead gets the chance though, Mello pulls away to breathe. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are shining, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to regain lost oxygen. He smiles down at Matt, a bright and beautiful and natural smile, before extending his hand to pull him up. "Come on. It's time for dinner."
"But..."
"Hey, are you ignoring me?! Damn it Matt!" A none-too-gentle smack administered to the back of his head brings Matt back from his musings. "I said, it's time for dinner. Get your lazy ass up or I'm going to leave you."
Matt blinks owlishly, looking up at the blonde before him, stating, "Oh, Mello. You're awake."
"No shit, Sherlock," Mello retorts; though his tone is biting, the words aren't meant to harm. Matt stands up and stretches, sighing contentedly when several joints pop. The two begin the walk to the cafeteria in silence, the redhead trailing behind his blonde counterpart and rethinking his daydream. It isn't the first time such images have appeared in his thoughts, and it certainly won't be the last. Still, Matt can't help but wonder if the blonde's mouth tastes as sweet as in his dreams.
The silence is broken when Mello speaks again. "You've been pretty out of it lately, though I haven't brought it up before." The blonde suddenly stops, turning to face his friend before demanding, "What the hell is wrong with you?" A hand on his hip, the other holding a chocolate bar. Then, more quietly, he adds, "You know you can talk to me, right? If it's something I can help with, you know I will."
Matt stops as well, eyes widening in slight surprise at Mello's admission. If he was offering support in such a concerned and caring way, he must be really worried. Though it's not exactly he could aid in, so the redhead merely says, "I'm fine."
"Bullshit." Again, though his tone is harsh, the word doesn't sting. He's concerned, though he refuses to show it. "Matt, I know you. I know when something's going on in your head. And something definitely is." His eyes are clear and honest; saying what he won't with words- Let me help you, please.
It's that trust and concern and… almost affection in his eyes that weakens Matt's resolve. Not enough to tell him- god no- but enough to make him want to. Once again, Matt is grateful for the orange goggles he constantly wears, hiding his emotions and keeping his thoughts from being expressed so freely. "Don't worry about it, okay?"
Mello suddenly glares, the soft look in his eyes suddenly hardening. "Damn it, Matt! I'm your best friend! I'm supposed to help you dammit! I can't do that if you won't let me in!" His anger surprises Matt, but his own reaction surprises him even more- he too grows angry.
"Well, you can't really help all that much when you're the source of the problem." His voice doesn't raise in volume, he does not move in a threatening manner, and he does not clench his jaw. Yet, the barely contained rage shows through in the low, flat tone of his voice along with the slight tremble. Mello visibly fights the urge to cringe, but Matt can't bring himself to care. His emotions and frustrations have begun to boil over and he doesn't know how to handle them, so he allows himself to snap at his best, and only, friend. "If I ever lie to you, it's not just for the hell of it. I have a reason to. So don't push this any farther. Let it go."
Mello's eyes flash in anger as he scowls. "Are you insinuating I've lied to you? For God's sake you're the only one I haven't fucking lied to!" His hands are balled into fists at his sides, his desire to hit something painfully obvious. Matt fleetingly wonders if he is what Mello wants to land a blow on.
"Is that so?" A slight mocking lilt joins the rage in Matt's voice, and acidity that cuts as much as the iciness that burns. "I was under the impression you hadn't lied to Near."
Mello does lash out at the mention of the albino's alias, snapping one fist forward to land hard against Matt's stomach. "Don't you fucking dare bring that sheep into this," he snarls, grabbing the redhead and shoving him up against the wall. "How would you even know? Have you been playing with that little twit?" The sneer he is displaying is more heard than seen.
Matt decides he's had enough. He shoves the blonde away from him and begins walking away from him and begins to walk back the way they'd come. Quickly regaining control of his emotions as the distance between himself and his roommate, he mentally cringes as what he'd just done sinks in. Knowing there's nothing he can do tonight, Matt readies himself for bed. At 7:30 in the evening, he finds himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in anticipation of sleep. A scant fifteen minutes later finds his last thoughts before slipping into unconsciousness being 'See what you do to me, Mello?' and 'Dear God, what have I done?'
-x-
Two days pass. Three. Four. On the fifth, Matt fears he's gone insane. A petty fight over his own stupidity has cost him five days without the blonde's voice. Without the blonde's attention. Without the blonde's acknowledgement. Without the blonde.
It's not that Mello has gone anywhere; in fact, he's just across the room. But Mello was holding a grudge, and doing so quite perfectly. He would continue to harbor resentment for Matt for forever most likely, or at least until Matt swallows his pride and apologizes. Afraid waiting any longer may very well kill him the redhead hesitantly stands and makes the seemingly impossible trek across the room in a series of awkward shuffles over to where Mello lays in bed on his back, his interest captured and held by the book in his hands. Even though he doesn't move or acknowledge the person at his bedside, Matt knows the blonde is aware of his presence.
"Mihael," Matt calls softly. Mello tightens his hold on his book, but otherwise ignores him. "Mihael …" he tries again, allowing his sadness and desperation to seep into his tone. A quiet sigh is heard as the book is lowered. Though there is no eye contact or any other sign of Mello's attention, Matt knows he'll listen. He always was sensitive to those who use his real name. "Mello, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blame you or get in a fight. I was wrong."
" . . . " Mello sits up, marking his place in his book before completely closing it. He sits with his legs crossed, elbows resting on his thighs with his chin resting on his interlocked fingers. He appears to take a deep breath, calming himself, before he quietly admits, "I'm sorry too."
Though Matt is curious, he won't ask. He knows Mello will say what he wants and only that, so probing and prodding will only result in a negative reaction. His patience pays off though, because Mello continues, "I shouldn't have gotten angry at you. If you don't want me, I shouldn't throw myself at you… to help, I mean." The last part is rushed, as if an afterthought. "Just… promise me that if you ever need my help, you'll come to me. Okay?" Matt nods and reaches into his pocket.
"Peace offering." Both boys laugh as they say it at the same together, Matt holding out an exceptionally good chocolate bar to Mello, while Mello extends a game to the redhead. They exchange gifts, Mello eagerly tearing into the packaging and sinking his teeth into the sweet confection, groaning, while Matt plugs his new game into the appropriate system and proceeds to play.
Time passes in this manner; Mello having finished his chocolate fairly quickly and now sits watching Matt play, and Matt racing rather easily through the levels and storylines of his new game. Glancing at the clock, Mello stands and stretches, nudging Matt in the shoulder with his foot.
"Hey, lazy ass. We should get to sleep. We've got class tomorrow." Matt gives a small, pathetic whine, focus never straying from his screen. "Matt." There is no response at all this time, no proof Matt had even heard him. "Mail." Mello's voice is a growl now; a low, threatening, sexy tone that instantly catches Matt's attention. Orange-shielded eyes flash up to tired cerulean ones questioningly. "I'm going to bed, idiot. Turn that shit off so I can sleep."
"But Mellsy…" An icy glare from Mello cuts the redhead short. He sighs and initiates the proper protocol to save and shut down the game before grabbing his pajamas and heading towards the bathroom to change. He returns to the room to find Mello already curled under his blankets. Matt does the same, reaching to flick off his lamp once properly situated. Sighing, he closes his eyes and slowly drifts off to sleep.
Panting and soft moans break the otherwise silence of the room, and Matt likes it. He can't separate who makes what noise over the sound of his hammering heart, but that doesn't bother him; he's far too preoccupied with the hands running over the bare skin of his chest, leaving a blazing trail of fire in their wake. He shivers, pulling the other body closer to him. A mouth ravenously attaches itself to Matt's, a tongue plunging in immediately while those insufferably hot hands make their way slowly down his sides to grip his hips.
As he pulls back from the kiss to futilely try to bring oxygen to his deprived lungs, his efforts prove wasted when the throws his head back against the pillow and lowly groans out, "Mello…"
Said blonde emits a deep chuckle, capturing Matt's lips again and grinding his hips against the redhead's. Matt groans into the kiss, returning the friction with fervor. Mello breaks off the kiss again, opting instead to kiss down Matt's neck, biting down on the spots that make the redhead cry out. The area where his neck and shoulder meet receive extra attention in the form of a particularly rough bite, leaving a nasty-looking bruise and a thin trail of blood in the aftermath. Matt gasps, bucking his hips up needfully. Mello licks almost lazily at the crimson rivulet, but the anxiousness with which he shoves the redhead's hips down and grinds himself down harder against them betrays him.
"Matty, please…" His desperation clearly shows through in his voice and he looks prepared to beg if Matt refuses him. Though Matt's just as needy as the blonde.
Matt doesn't reply with words; instead he pulls Mello closer, reconnects their lips, and wraps his legs around Mello's slender doesn't hesitate in returning the favor, pressing against him and trying to wrestle the jeans off the gamer between hungry kisses and near-spastic hip thrusts. Finally succeeding in yanking the jeans off and throwing them over the edge of the bed, he presses closer. He pulls away from the kiss and smiles at Matt's whimper at the loss of contact. He taps three fingers against Matt's bruised and kiss-swollen lips and Matt obediently opens his mouth, sucking the three fingers in and wrapping his tongue around them, coating them well. Mello looks away, biting his lip to hold in a groan while he hastily squirms his way out of his leather pants.
Matt whines quietly when the fingers are ripped from his mouth and fleetingly entertains the notion he may have an oral fixation problem. Any other thoughts he may have had on the matter are cut short when Mello kisses him again, sliding a hand over his hip and around the slight curve of his ass. Matt winces at the feeling of a slick finger pushing into him, but forces himself to relax and focus on the tongue wrapping around his and the hand running apologetically through his hair. When a second finger joins the first, he unintentionally bites down on Mello's lip. Mello growls and changes the way he's stretching the redhead, almost as if searching for something.
"A-ah Mello! There!" Matt's back arches off the bed, nails clawing at Mello's back and tossing his head back and forth against the pillows. The blonde above him groans, assaulting that same spot within him, adding in the third finger and stretching him the last bit.
When the fingers leave him, Matt whimpers and sends a pleading look to Mello. The blonde merely smirks, pulling Matt's legs over his shoulders before glancing up for the okay. The single look he receives is all he needs, snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing himself. Matt growls and bites his lip, his eyes closed tight in pain with unshed tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He wills his breathing back to normal, and forces himself to relax, but fuck this hurts! Mello kisses his shoulder in apology, nuzzling Matt's neck and murmuring sweet nothings to soothe him.
As the feeling of Mello inside him turns more uncomfortable than painful, Matt begins squirming slightly, hips twitching occasionally and a small pleading sound coming from him at the lack of movement. Glancing up in question, Matt sees Mello's smirk. He's just as ready as Matt is, but he just can't resist teasing him, the bastard. "Dammit, move!"
The smirk on Mello's lips cracks into a full-on wicked grin, growing still when he pulls back only to slam forward again. Matt gasps, not used to the feeling nor the pain that comes with it. After a few more thrusts the pain begins to ebb and the pure bliss begins showing through. And oh, does it feel good.
Matt doesn't know when or how it happened, but between heated cries for more and his bucking his hips back against Mello's he didn't notice the hand sliding along his hip and around his thigh until it touches the most painful part his body. Running his fingers teasingly up and down Matt's painfully neglected member, Mello chuckles. "Oh? Does someone like that?" When the redhead doesn't answer the hand moves away ,drawing a strangled noise meant to be interpreted as a groan of disappointment. "You do, don't you?"
Willing to worship any deity who answers his prayers for the accursed blonde to quit goddamned teasing him and properly touch him, Matt whimpers, "Y-yes Mello… I like it…. Please, more…"
Mello lightly bites down on Matt's shoulder, his lips upturned in a Cheshire grin. He adjusts his hips, slightly brushing against a place inside Matt that has his back arching. Looking up to run his tongue along the shell of Matt's ear, he growls, "Then beg for it, Mail."
"P-please, Mello!" Matt cries, taking Mello's hand from his hip and leading it to his painfully hard member. "Touch me, please! I-I need it!"
"You need it, huh?" Again, Mello shifts his aim just a small bit, slamming straight inside the place that has Matt very nearly screaming out the blonde's name, back arching and nails digging into the other's back. Mello begins pounding into that spot over and over again and he begins to roughly pump the redhead in time with his merciless pace.
Matt's vision turns bright, pure white as he screams out "Mihael!' and releases himself over Mello's hand and their chests. Mello groans out "Mail!" and loses himself deep inside Matt's heat. They collapse together in a panting and sweaty tangle of limbs and automatically curls himself up against Mello's side, and is very surprised when he feels Mello's arms encircling his waist. Feeling sated and incredibly drowsy, he murmurs "I love you" as his eyelids begin to slip closed….
Until they fly open to meet a plain ceiling. His chest heaving and his hair damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead, he glances over to see Mello still asleep, his back to the redhead. A quiet sigh of relief escapes him as he stands and grabs a pair of clothes and heads into the bathroom. At least his sheets hadn't gotten dirty.
Turning on the water for the shower and stripping out of his sticky clothes, he leans his back against the countertop and the mirror, his face in his hands. He loves Mello? What the hell is up with that? He's dreamed of the blonde countless times before, but never like that. And that part at the end, the "I love you"? He'd known he has feelings for him, but love?
After deeming the temperature acceptable, he steps into the spray, some of the tension immediately leaving his body. Deciding to not think about his dream or Mello at all, he slowly washes and dresses himself, feeling much less troubled than when he awoke. Once finished in the bathroom, he walks back into his shared room to find Mello awake and dressed as well.
The blonde is adorned in the usual leather pants and vest, and Matt can't help but think they look a bit tighter today. A pair of black gloves adds to the ensemble and Mello's rosary is around his neck, the cross grasped in his right hand, which is unusually devoid of chocolate. Matt immediately knows something is wrong.
"Mello? Are you okay?" The blonde merely looks up in answer. "You don't have your chocolate, which is scary. You're wearing, and holding, your rosary, meaning something's on your brain and worrying you."
"I'm fine!" Mello snaps irritably, but Matt knows he's lying. Mello won't look him in the eyes, and his hand tightens fractionally on his rosary, two dead giveaways.
"If you were fine, you wouldn't be so defensive in your answer." Matt knows he's pushing the limit; provoking Mello when in a state like this more often than not results in physical blows and days of uncomfortable silence and awkward tension between them. Yet Matt can't let it go for reasons unbeknownst to him... Is this part of the whole love package?
"I wouldn't be defensive if you'd just leave me the hell alone." Mello abruptly stands and heads to the door as if to leave. Before he gets there Matt grabs him. "I mean it. Fuck off," Mello growls, yanking his arm back. As Matt reaches for him again, a sharp smack echoes in the room.
Shocked that Mello would strike him so early in the argument, Matt lets his arm drop to his side lifelessly as he cradles his stinging cheek with the other. If Mello resorted to blows so soon, then something was seriously amiss. Usually if something this big is wrong he would've been told immediately. But… what if he's the problem?
The thought is banished as soon as it crosses his mind. Like hell he's the problem: he's done nothing wrong! Wait…. what if Mello found out about his feelings? If he picked up on things and found out and this was just him showing he wasn't interested? No, Mello is a lot of things, and blunt is most certainly one of them. He'd be more likely to tell him off than storm away demanding to be left alone.
Neither have moved since the slap, nor have they spoken. Matt has scarcely breathed. Finally, Mello says, "I'm sorry. But, I need to think for a while." At once, all of his passion is gone. His eyes are blank, his voice devoid of all emotion in unintentional imitation of the "sheep" he loathes so much. Without another word, he turns on his heel and strides from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Matt sinks to his knees on the ground, rubbing his temples where a headache is sure to form soon. Mello is just so confusing and infuriating sometimes. Matt just wishes he could control his emotions and be reasonable every once in a while. But the most important thing for now is to figure out what set Mello off and try to negate it before it completely blows up.
Pondering what could have set the blonde off gets him nowhere. Nothing that comes to mind seems like a big enough deal. Near is always a likely cause, though Mello usually complains to Matt about him, not blows up in his face because of him. Grades, though vital to the blonde, aren't worthy of such a reaction. No one else sets Mello off so much besides Roger, who he bitches about more than acts out about.
The more he thinks, the more likely it is that he is the problem. How in the hell does he fix something he caused, especially when he doesn't even know what he did? Sighing and ignoring the now throbbing pain in his skull, Matt waits for Mello to return.
It takes all day before Mello does enter their room. Busting into the room and making the door bang quiet loudly against the wall before slamming back soundly into its frame. The animation is only half-way back; a faint scowl and the glint of passing frustration are the only traces of emotion on his face. Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it means he won't fight with him.
"What are you gawking at?" Mello's tone is absolutely livid. So much for no fighting.
"You." Mello seems to barely contain his rage at the simplistic answer. "I'm trying to figure out what I did to you to make you so bloody pissed at me. To make you ignore me all fucking day, bust in here like you own the place, and glare and glower at me for nothing. So tell me, what's your problem, Mello?" Matt can't help his anger. As usual, his voice doesn't raise, he doesn't threaten, and he shows no outward indications of the utter rage he feels.
"You," Mello mocks, mimicking Matt's answer and throwing it back in his face. "Since when do you hide things from me? Since when do you go and mess yourself over me in your dreams? Since when do you fucking love me?"
Time freezes. It seems like the entire world is holding its breath. Of course, Matt knows that the world doesn't breathe, and that no one will really stop for his crisis, but it feels that way. They don't move, they don't speak, they don't breathe.
Mello knows.
But how?! Matt never said anything, never even tried clueing him in. Hell, he only just realized it himself this fucking morning! So how in the hell does he know?!
Matt keeps a hold on his poker face, though just barely. "Pardon me? Since when have I what? Well, I've always cared for you like a brother, so since that one day-"
"Cut the shit!" Mello snarls, lunging forward and grabbing the "apathetic" redhead by his shirt. "I fucking heard you in your sleep. The groans of my name, the pleas for me to go 'harder', and lest we forget, the grand finale of 'I love you'. I. Fucking. Heard. You. Don't lie to me. How long have you been lying to me?"
Shit! "I talk in my sleep?" Matt's voice cracks from the strain of keeping his tone level. It's then when Matt realizes the ruse is up, when Mello snorts. "What do you want me to say, Mihael? It was a dream. And post-sex mushy shit."
"Was it? Was it really?" All of a sudden, Mello sounds broken. Sad. Quiet. Vulnerable. "I've seen the way you act. For quite a while. Your gaze lingers for far longer than it needs to. Zoning out while staring at me. Those soft wistful sighs you don't think I hear. The signs are all there, and have been for years." Matt opens his mouth to speak, to tell Mello he's putting things together that honestly had no significance at the time, but Mello cuts him off, the fire back in his voice. "Forget it. I'll be back later. I can't deal with this right now. Deal with you." As Mello throws the door open and stalks into the hallway, Matt follows, sticking his head just past the frame to watch him go.
Matt cringes at Near appears in the same hallway, walking towards Mello. This won't be good….
"Good evening, Mello. You seem troubled. What is the matter?" the albino asks, twirling a lock of white hair with his fingers. Matt watches in horror as Mello's fist connects hard, and probably painfully, with Near's jaw.
"Shut the fuck up, sheep!" Mello snarls, shoving the pale boy aside and into the wall before storming off. Near stands, dusting himself off before continuing down the hallway, inclining his head to Matt in greeting as he passes before walking into his own room and softly shutting the door.
Sighing, Matt closes his own door and prepares to wait again for the blonde to return. But when the clock reads eleven at night, with still no sign of the blonde, Matt lays down to sleep plagued by nightmares of anger and abandonment.
After a fitful night of sleep, Matt awakes around seven the next morning to find Mello sound asleep in bed. His blonde hair is splayed about around his head, looking silky smooth and soft to the touch. His expression his relaxed, calm, and serene, lips parted slightly with the slightest shading of pink across his cheeks. Matt is glad Mello can find a little peace in sleep, having thought about what it would be like to be in his place between nightmares.
Though Mello's choice of attire doesn't scream straight by anyone's standards, Matt was unsure if he was or not, due to their never talking about their sexuality. Mello hadn't expressed in anyone, male or female, claiming that his studies took precedence and that a lover would merely distract him. But still… to find out your same-sex best friend loves you, and hearing it at the end of a wet dream too, couldn't be easy. Add in the fact Mello has never been in any kind of romantic situation, and the poor boy is at a loss. There's no textbook for love where he can study from.
Matt has steeled himself to be let down. After all, the blonde's reactions haven't exactly seemed welcoming. That's okay though, he can handle it, so long s Mello doesn't mock him and banish him simply because of what he feels.
The redhead is pulled from his musings by a groan and Mello shifting on the bed before sitting up and stretching. When he spies Matt watching him, Matt prepares to be told off, or at the very least to be the butt off a sarcastic comment. The reaction he gets though, scares him more than the prospect of being yelled at.
"Matty… come here." Mello pats the spot beside him, using his other hand to comb through his hair sleepily. Confused but willing, Matt walks over and does as he was told. Mello wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him into an awkward one-armed hug.
"Look, Matt… I can't really sugarcoat this, you know? So… don't hate me for what I say now." Matt patiently waits for him to continue. "I… am flattered, I suppose, that you have feelings for me at all. That you love me. But… it's not returned. I mean, you said it yourself. We're like brothers. I can't love my brother like that. Platonically, sure, but not romantically.
"I'm not going to be a prick and say I can never be around you, because that's fucking stupid. I'd love to still be as close as we are now. But… how I feel won't change. I won't force you to push your feelings away, I'm perfectly fine with them staying. But I can never love you back." Mello pauses his monologue to breathe, having spoken the majority of the previous speech in a rush. "It's up to you if you want to stay around me. What do you say…?" Matt smiles at how unsure Mello seems. At the blush on his cheeks and his fidgety-nervousness.
"Mello… all I can say is thank you for not being a douche bag asshole and telling me to fuck off and never look at you again." Though Matt is crushed, he smiles gleefully. "For letting me stay around knowing what's going on in my head. I'd love to stick around. Someone's gotta keep you from killing Near."
Mello laughs, and just like that, the heavy, serious atmosphere is gone. "And someone has to make sure you stop gaming long enough to eat and sleep."
"Yeah. Just…Mello?" Matt asks hesitantly.
"Hmm?"
"IF you ever change your mind… I'll be waiting."
A friendly smack upside the head is delivered to the back of the redhead's skull. "I know, Matty. I know."
Matt sighs. Though it's still wistful, there's a certain happiness to it too. Mail Jeevas knows that as long as Mello's around, all he'll ever really do is sigh with want. But, you know what? He's okay with that.
Well? What did you think, loves? Drop a review, would you? Oh, and flames will be used to burn the possible sequel to this, so be nice!