AU-ish with a hint of drowsy albino. He's not a morning person. Happy birthday, Near! x]
The sun filtered in through the flimsy cotton curtains that were only covering part of the open windows. A breeze came in. Near was curled up under the covers, awake, but with lidded eyes. He could have closed the windows, but he decided that he would get up later; when the digital alarm clock went off, begging him to rise until he had no choice but to oblige.
He lay on his side, facing the edge of the bed. Curling up into a tighter ball, Near buried himself deeper into the comforter to hug his knees and was momentarily surprised when skin made contact with skin—his pajamas had gone on an expedition, it seemed. After a while of racking his sleep-fogged brain, he remembered the events that had happened last night and safely concluded that his clothes must be somewhere under the bed or thrown over a chair.
Even if he was still too muzzy to think right, recalling the previous night and all the other nights before that made him feel a little bittersweet.
The enrapturing cries of pain-turned-pleasure and wandering hands, moans and whispered names that tumbled from needy lips, the thrill of touch that heightened and soared and deepened until it couldn't go any higher and sent them over the edge to drown in their own ecstasy. It was supposed to be Paradise; heaven in the form of heavy breathing, being so close that all you could breathe in was the scent of the other, holding each other until the moon made way for the sun and waking up in loving arms.
At least, that was it was supposed to be like. They never really got around to the "holding each other until the moon made way for the sun and waking up in loving arms" part. Work always got in the way of that.
Still sleepy, Near burrowed his face into a pillow, willing darkness to take him again so he wouldn't have to face the inevitable truth that was always there the moment he opened his eyes. Whenever he did, he saw nothing but a messy room, a carpet strewn with his clothes, a bed with sticky sheets and him as the sole occupant, and a note as the only reminder of the person who had come and taken his leave without so much as a kiss goodbye. There would always, always be a note on the bedside table; and oh God, how Near despised those little scraps of paper. The sweet words and promises meant nothing to him, and he would feel so let down for some reason… but he would find himself waiting for the next time with much anticipation anyway, and he'd welcome the culprit back with open arms. Near hated himself for it.
Dear lord, he was such a freaking masochist.
With that cheerful thought, Near let slumber claim him again until a loud peal of annoying beeps disrupted the silence. The albino, too used to this routine already, hit the alarm to shut it up. He rolled out of bed (noticing that the other side was cold already—he's been gone a while…) and avoided looking at his bedside table where he knew another note was waiting for him. At the moment it felt as though there was a strange, twisted knot in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't ready to start the day on a more depressed note just yet. Usually things weren't this much of a big deal, but shit always magnified itself when you just woke up, and it wasn't like today was nothing special.
But he wasn't expecting anything anyway. Even though it was his birthday. If Near had candles to blow out, the one thing he really would have wished for was to wake up next to someone all the time, not all alone in a big bed. Then, if it wasn't asking too much, breakfast in bed would be nice too. Waffles. Yum.
Near moodily gathered his fallen clothes (they were under the bed)dumped them in the hamper, took a fresh pair of pajamas and underwear from his dresser, and crossed over to the adjoining bathroom to do the usual business.
In the middle of swishing mouthwash around in his cheeks, there was a loud "Ow!" from the kitchenette of his apartment, followed by a string of colorful expletives.
Near almost choked on his Listerine.
He spat it out and hurried to the source of the noise.
The kitchenette didn't look damaged. A box of Eggo waffle mix stood innocently on the counter beside an empty mixing bowl, and next to that was a tray decked with a plate of warm waffles drizzled with honey and in the middle of being garnished with sliced strawberries.
The person slicing the strawberries was behind the counter, glaring at a cut finger and still muttering curses while running his injury under the tap. The picture was made perfect by a sky blue apron (with the picture of a cartoon kitten snoozing on the pocket) and said person's sunshine hair was pinned into order with several bobby pins.
Near tried to process this information in a way that would make sense, but to no avail. There were a thousand things that he could say right then, but for all his articulacy, all the genius could come up with was;
"Mello?"
The blonde's attention turned towards him and his scowl turned into a faint grimace of apology, and after a second, embarrassment.
"I woke you up, didn't I…"
"No, not really."
"Ah."
An awkward silence ensued, in which the both of them stood there with their faces gradually developing a pinker hue by the second. Near raised a hand and twirled a lock of hair carefully in his fingers, as he did whenever he was thinking.
There was a good possibility that this was all a dream; Mello wasn't really here wearing a ridiculous apron and cooking breakfast like a housewife. Near just wanted it to be this way, so his brain came up with it.
Not really; Near wouldn't think that. That was far too disturbing.
"So what's it going to be?" Mello asked casually, returning to his strawberries.
"Pardon?"
"What? Aren't you going to—Oh. You didn't..." Mello's blush deepened even more, and he tried to cover it up by giving a poor red berry a particular hard chop. "Never mind. Let's just have breakfast."
The corner of Near's mouth twitched, but he said nothing and took his place at the table, curiously watching Mello all the while. The latter sat across from him and poured them both coffee.
After a while, the stillness got to the blonde and he disrupted it.
"Just eat, no need to give me that look," he said irritably, a vein popping in his temple.
"What is Mello still doing here?"
"I made you breakfast?"
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to?"
"…"
"Can't a guy stay at home when he wants?"
"You never stayed before," Near said blankly.
He muttered something inaudible, then in an attempt to change the topic, barked at the albino, "If you were awake why didn't you come down sooner? I put it on a tray and everything to take it up to your room."
"You didn't have to."
"That's what I'm saying; if you had only—"
"I meant that Mello didn't have to stay."
Mello raised his hands up in a gesture of defeat. "But I did! All for your birthday, Christ… If I knew you wouldn't even be grateful then I never would've—"
Near interrupted him. "Mello stayed to make waffles just because it's my birthday?"
"No, I did it because I've always wanted to turn into a sappy piece of—"
"Thank you," the albino cut in again. "Thank you for staying for my birthday. That was thoughtful of you, Mello."
"…Just eat your waffles."
So Near did, until Mello began to fidget in his seat.
"Is something the matter?"
"It's nothing," Mello mumbled, but after a minute he looked at Near. "Your birthday's not the only reason I stayed, okay?"
"Oh? Well then, enlighten me."
"I stayed because I figured that if this is going to work out, I should get used settling down in one place and not running off first thing in the morning."
A pale eyebrow quirked. "Get used to…?"
"Yeah," Mello prattled on. He was sounding like a fussy mother, but it seemed to Near that if he should stop now, he would explode. "I doubt anyone would appreciate it much if their partner disappeared at the crack of dawn and only came back every night. And besides, I can't stand the idea of you alone here all day. How the heck do you even eat? I bet you don't even have three square meals a day because your face is always in your computer or something... What do you do if you get sick? Who takes care of you?"
"Mello," Near interjected through the babble. "I don't understand."
Mello fixed him with a half-exasperated look. "You honestly didn't check your bedside table, did you?"
"…No, I didn't. Was I supposed to?"
"Your birthday present was there."
"Oh."
"Jeez. Wait here," Mello huffed, rising from the table and going up the hall.
He returned a moment later with something clutched tightly in his fist. This time, Mello didn't sit down. He approached Near, knelt in front of him and inched his face in closer until their noses were almost touching, and Near held his breath, straining to keep his face blank and maintain eye contact without getting cross-eyed. Mello looked quite serious.
"You know I don't like going into a bunch of gibberish trying to say something, and I just did, so don't make me repeat myself, okay?"
Near nodded.
Mello's voice cracked a little, and he seemed to be repressing a cringe. But then his expression softened. "Well, thing is, I love you. And since you never pushed me away even after everything I did and didn't do, you must love me too, right?"
Near nodded, slower this time.
Mello smiled. "Then that's good, because I was only planning on asking you once."
"What…?"
"…You don't get it, do you?"
"No."
"Near, I told you not to make me repeat myself."
"But I don't…"
"Oh God," Mello sighed. "Look at me. I just said a bunch of crappy shit. I'm kneeling in front of you. I made you waffles!"
Still puzzled, Near frowned a little. "I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand what Mello is trying to ask me."
"Oh, for the love of crap. It's not rocket science, Near!"
Mello exhaled in frustration, and he back away a little, just enough to show Near what he had in his hands. It was a small crystal case; inside it was a simple but beautiful ring of platinum and white gold, the words 'My Last Puzzle Piece' engraved on the inside.
Near blinked.
Taking a deep breath, Mello looked him in the eye.
"All I'm trying to ask is if you'll marry me."
"Oh." Near blinked again. "Why didn't Mello just say so?"
Mello took on an indignant air. "The fuck? I've been trying to tell you for a good ten—mmph!"
Near didn't care what else he had to say. He had thrown himself into his lover's arms, closing the distance between their lips and knocking the both of them to the ground.
"Wait!" Mello gasped. "The ring…" Once it was securely around Near's slim little finger, the albino impatiently crushed his lips to Mello's again, and this time there were no interruptions.
A while later, they broke apart and lay on the sofa where they had somehow ended up. Mello was beaming broadly.
"I'm taking that as a yes."
"Mm… Mello."
"Hmm?"
"If I wake up alone again, I'll…"
"You won't wake up alone anymore."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"That's good."
Near admired his ring for a few seconds until a thought occurred to him.
"Those were good waffles, Mello."
"Yeah… But just to clear things up, I'm not making them every fucking day, Near."
Near grinned. Oh well, it was worth a shot.
Fluffy fluff fluff for the win! x3 Whoa, I just disturbed myself. Anyway, reviews are LOVE. :D
Every time this button is clicked
Near gets birthday waffles. :D
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