A/N: This is just a random idea I came up with. It's not a particularly original idea, but I started writing it and I liked how it was coming out. So I'm going to keep it going. I tried to keep them in character as much as possible, considering this does not involve the original Death Note story at all. Enjoy and please review! I have like hardly any reviews for any of my stories! Thx.
Oh, and naturally I don't own Death Note. But I love to borrow the characters and make them do naughty things to each other. ^_^

So Let Yourself Down Tonight.

Chapter 1: A single drop of blood.

"Ouch! Shit!"

The clattering of glass breaking punctured the din of white noise from the faucet. Near tried to grab the glass as it slipped out of his hands, shattering against the countertop. Near held his hand over the sink trying to examine the deep gash in the palm of his hand. A single drop of blood fell into the water below, creating an ominous red cloud. He winced in pain as he picked a splinter of glass from his wound, which only caused the blood to flow quicker. He squeezed his wrist, an impromptu attempt to slow the bleeding. His shoulders tensed at the voice calling from the next room.

"Fucking hell Near, can't you even wash dishes without screwing something up?"

"I think I hurt myself pretty good Mello." Near said, turning his head to project his voice from the room.

After an alarming delay, the blonde appeared in the doorway, swaggering to the sink unconcernedly. He grabbed Near's wrist forcibly.

"It's not that bad." He said, releasing Near before turning away.

"Mello, this is pretty bad, I think I may need stitches."

"Hrmph. Well, then you can bloody pay for them yourself." Mello sneered while staring to walk away.

"Mello, I didn't ask you to drag me to a country where you need to take out a line of credit if you happen to cut yourself."

Mello stared at Near intently.

"Well don't forget if I didn't drag you here, where would you be right now?"

Near had nothing to say. He knew Mello was right. He always was right, even when he was wrong. Near knew that if he stayed in their small english town, that he'd be known as nothing other than the town fag, nothing else he would have done, none of his accomplishments would have mattered.

"When we graduate from this shithole, we're going to New York where we can be ourselves, where nobody will look at us the wrong way. We'll go to school, and make something of ourselves."

That plan didn't exactly work out the way Mello had wanted. Mello had landed a decent job working at the container yard unloading cargo ships, but it was barely enough money to support them and their crappy Brooklyn apartment. The stressfulness of the job had gotten to him also, making him often downright unpleasant to deal with. Moreso than usual.

"Give me your hand," Mello said, grabbing a dish towel. Near extended his bloodied hand. Mello wrapped the towel around his hand several times, tying it in a tight knot. Near winced in pain, wishing he would be a little more gentle, "The bleeding should stop soon."

"If it doesn't I'm going to go to the free clinic."

"Hahah.... Good luck with that." Mello said, starting to walk away again, satisfied he had the upper hand.

"I think I'm going to look for a job too." Near said.

Mello exhaled exasperatedly, turning to face Near once again.

"You know, for someone who graduated at the top of their class, you're pretty fucking stupid." Mello said while pointing his finger menacingly. Near looked down at the ground anticipating the unavoidable defeat, "Where exactly are you going to work? You have no skills, you're not good with people, you're not good at physical labour, and on top of that you look daft. So tell me, who is going to hire you?"

Near stayed silent, continuing to look down at the ground. The blood was starting to seep through the towel, tinting it a pinkish red.

"Now I'm going out for a few drinks. Try not to think too much while I'm gone." Mello said, before putting on his coat and slamming the door behind him as he left.

Near sat down at the breakfast table in their kitchen and let the tears fall, knowing that everything Mello had said was true. He felt worthless, because he knew he was worthless. He silently thanked a god he didn't believe in for Mello, knowing that he didn't have anything without him.

Mello didn't return that night until 2 in the morning. Near felt him climb into the bed next to him. He reeked of alcohol. He waited until Mello was mostly asleep, something that didn't take long when he was like this, before cuddling up next to him carefully. Desperately, he rested his head on Mello's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against his own, allowing the rising and falling of his breaths to lull him to sleep.

The next day, Near had woken up to an empty bed. He glanced over at the clock.

9:32 AM

He must've slept through Mello getting up for work. He looked down and nearly yelped when he saw red. His shirt, his boxers, and the sheets were all spotted and smeared with blood. He checked his hand and found the towel wrapped around it saturated. Hoping he wouldn't be lightheaded when he stood up, he carefully rose to his feet and went to the bathroom, removing the bloodied towel from his hand. The wound had made no attempt at closing. He needed stitches and he needed them quickly before he lost any more blood. He gingerly dressed himself in his usual white linen button-up shirt and gray slacks, then re-dressed his hand as tightly as he could and headed for the door.

The clinic was approximately a 30 minute walk from their apartment. He would've taken a bus but he didn't have a metrocard, and didn't want to be bothered trying to find a store to sell one. It was a pretty pleasant October day though. Warm enough that he didn't even need a jacket. When he got there, the clinic was packed. Not much of a surprise for any place offering free medical services in a world where nothing is free. He registered at the front desk and sat down in the waiting room, trying not to let the constant sound of babies crying get to him.

Eventually his name was called and a rather pleasant doctor took a look at his hand and decided that it definitely needed to be closed up. He didn't waste much time as there were still another 20 people in the waiting room that still had yet to be looked at. Just a simple shot of novocaine to numb the area, and only 5 minutes later he was finished. The bleeding had finally stopped.

"Ok young man, next time you drop a glass, try not to catch it when it's already started to break." The doctor said, tousling Near's hair. He always found it both amusing and sometimes distressing how people still treated him as if he was a child, even though he was nearly 20 years old.

Near smiled weakly at the doctor's affection, before hopping up from the examination table and leaving the clinic. As he walked down the street, examining his stitches, he made a mental note of the grocery shopping he had to do while he was out. He noticed a grocery store one block ahead, and figured it to be a good idea to shop there instead of having to walk an additional 5 minutes past their apartment to do it where he normally does.

He walked inside the store and grabbed a hand-basket, throwing things inside as he roamed the aisles. He didn't have to buy much, but Mello was expecting dinner tonight and Near didn't want to hear it if he didn't have dinner ready by the time he had gotten home.

He was waiting in line at the check-out lane, his eyes scanning the various trashy tabloids that litter nearly all grocery stores, with headlines like "Britney Spears gives birth to alien child.", complete with a badly photoshopped picture. He hadn't even so much as looked up to the front of the line, but he didn't go unnoticed.

"Excuse me Sir. Would you like to continue scanning my items?" A shrill old woman said to the cashier.

The redheaded young man was fixated on something he saw at the back of the line. Someone he had never seen the likes of before. Startled back to the task at hand, he would have to wait until it was his turn.

"Sorry Maam." He said, as the beep of the scanner started once again.

Before long, it was Near's turn. He started unloading his basket onto the conveyor belt, and nearly dropped a dozen eggs when he locked eyes with the kid behind the counter.

Oh my god he is gorgeous.

Near examined the redhead while he talked to one of his coworkers, marveling at his handsome features, the warmth of his smile, the sexy huskiness of his voice. He was thin, but he looked strong, and with greenish eyes that could burn a hole through steel, and smooth kissable red lips, Near was almost too nervous to face him, too nervous to simply pay for his groceries and leave. Near caught sight of his name tag, which read 'Matt'. He made a mental note of it.

Matt finished his conversation and was startled himself as he turned around to see Near standing right in front of him, his eyes nervously shifting around. Matt hadn't said so much of a word to him, or even heard him speak yet, and he already knew he was looking at something special, something unique, and not one to waste the opportunity, spoke. His first attempt was to get this mysterious white-haired boy's name.

"Do you have a valued shopper card?" He asked, as he has done countless times to pretty much everyone that crosses his checkout lane.

"No I'm sorry I don't." Near replied, trying his best to appear natural, but ending up worse off.

Matt stopped what he was doing.

"I'm sorry could you say that again please?"

Near furrowed his brow in confusion, and looked up into Matt's eyes, leaving himself nearly breathless. He swallowed before continuing.

"I said I'm sorry, but I don't have a card."

Matt nearly fainted.

"You're British?"

Near nodded and watched as Matt looked upwards, a huge smile growing on his face. This situation was making Near quite nervous. This type of interaction, especially with someone who he finds incredibly attractive, was not something he expected. Not that he would have known how to prepare for such a thing.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a sucker for a British accent. Do you live around here or are you just visiting?"

"I live in Greenpoint."

"Oh wow that's far, what brings you all the way here?"

"Oh, I had to see the doctor. I kinda hurt myself." Near said, holding his bandaged hand up.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's just a few stitches."

Matt was running out of small talk. Normally he was quite bold, and it's gotten him pretty far, but he had enough of the game and was just going to flat out ask.

"So what's your name, interesting British boy." He asked, making Near turn all sorts of shades of purple, red and pink.

"N-Near."

"Did you say Near? That's unique. I like it! My name is Matt."

"I already knew, it's on your name tag."

Yes! He was looking at my name tag! Nobody does that unless they're curious about the person wearing it.

"That will be $43.87, Near."

Near pulled his wallet from his pocket, and started counting the cash.

"Hang on one second. You made my day. I can do better than that." Matt said, looking over his shoulders dramatically. He punched some numbers into the keyboard, "$28.79. Employee discount."

"Wow... Thank you that was very generous. I hope you don't get into trouble." Near said, his heart ready to explode at this point.

Matt bent closer to Near and said in a low tone.

"It was worth it. Now go take care of that hand, and come back to buy more stuff! I'd like to see you again!"

"Um...Thanks!" Near said with feigned enthusiasm, because in reality he was nervous as hell. This Matt person was dynamic, charming, and damn cute. He knew he'd be back, and he knew it would be soon.

Near left the store, wondering what the fuck just happened, and started his journey home.

"Hey I'm going to take my break now." Matt called out to his manager.

He went to the back of the store near the loading dock and lit a cigarette. It was hopeless. He knew he wouldn't be able to get Near out of his head. His heart swelled at the image burned in his mind. He was beautiful. So beautiful it hurt to look at him for too long. He stood out from the crowd even though you can tell he didn't mean to. His white hair for one was exotic. His pale face was flawless, like a porcelain doll. Likewise, he looked fragile, like something you had to handle carefully, otherwise you run the risk of ruining perfection. His wide, blue eyes were like looking into rare jewels. Of course the other matter was his voice. When he spoke, all other sounds, the cacophany of 12 cash registers and scanners going at once, disappeared.

Before he had realized it, Matt was burning into the filter of his cigarette, his mind completely lost to visions and fantasies of Near as he let his imagination run wild. He heard his manager calling his name in the background. He ground the cigarette out with his heel, and went back inside, wondering when he would see Near again. He could hardly wait.