Note: We're back! Yes, it's Dlvvanzor and xxbeyondxbirthdayxx, on the shared account we will use to post our co-authored fics!
It's still MxM, it's still Dlvvanzor as Matt and xxbeyondxbirthdayxx as Mello, and we still plan on making you cry, howl and drool!
Mello:
I opened the door of my new apartment (should I say shithole, considering the state of the place?) after a fight with the lock, that fell dead on the floor once I gave up and shot it, out of patience (that I never had to begin with).
Jake, one of my men, had found it for me, upon my request to move in a place where I could come and go without being noticed or annoyed. He already had brought all my cardboard boxes here so I just had to move my ass here, it had saved me a huge amount of time and shit. And even if it hadn't, it's always nice to have people you can order around. It had already been plain boring to pack, just as unpacking would be. But it would wait, as long as I had a bed and a shower, the rest wasn't all that necessary at first. And chocolate, of course. But if Jake valued his life, he probably already had filled the fridge with my usual luxury chocolate.
Yeah, he had, good boy.
I grabbed some extra dark bars and headed for my new living room. Quite big actually. Well, there was no bedroom, so the bed was stuck in a corner. I would have to think about getting curtains, for the large window gave a perfect view on it, no matter if I moved the bed to another corner.
A desk, my laptop, some closets.
I walked to the window, wanting to evaluate the usefulness of curtains, but finally decided it was not worth calling Jake for that, the window gave on a narrow alley and the only possible lurker would be the apartment lying on the other side of the alley, at the same floor of the twin apartment complex next to the one I would live in from now on.
That's when I realized this window was the only window.
The bathroom was a tiny cube just wide enough to contain a shower, a sink and toilets, and the kitchen was not any better, a counter, fridge, a sink, oven and stove, and two stools. And a few cupboards hung to the wall above the stove.
I'm glad I mainly eat chocolate, because there was no way I would wash the dishes without the assistance of a machine.
I went back to the living room, and I stood there, in the middle of it, snapping at my second chocolate bar, trying to decide what to do first.
That's when I saw that guy, smoking, his elbows resting on his window, directly looking at me. What the fuck does he think he's doing?
I glared at him. What's with his glasses? Are these glasses? Looks like a nerd. Cute nerd. But nerd.
I didn't move an inch from where I was standing, my eyes still focused on him as a scowl escaped me. Will he stop staring at me? With that stupid smirk on his face? Shit.
I turned on my heels and greeted him with the sight of my back, going back in the kitchen.
I sat on a tool and decided for the curtains.
I called Jake, because I needed my lock to be fixed first thing, and demanded him to buy these damn curtains.
Which color? Like I cared. I guess black, for once, wouldn't do, so I gave him the extremely great responsibility to choose something. That's not a privilege, believe me. He'd better not bring me something flowery or pink.
I needed to take a piss so I crossed the living room again to reach the bathroom, and there he was again. Well, he was not really looking here, he was sat at the desk he apparently had the good idea to put against the wall just beside his window, so I could see his side as he sat at what seemed a laptop from the distance.
Yeah, definitely was a computer. He was typing pretty fast, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Did that guy ever stop smoking?
He was laughing to himself. Great. A retarded nerd.
But as I wasn't staring, I didn't start when he looked my way. No. Shit.
Did he see me start?
He smiled. I gave him the finger and left the room.
Matt:
A prostitute moved into the apartment next to mine today.
No, seriously, I'm not even lying. I was standing there, having a smoke out my window, and there he was. Yes, it's a male prostitute. A bitch'n sexy one, too. I mean like, on a scale of one to ten, one being Bowser and ten being Johnny Depp, this guy was easily a nine. And he'd probably be a ten if I could get a closer look at him.
Actually, I thought he was a girl at first. He was standing there, eating chocolate of all things, with a hand on his hip, looking around like he wanted to go on a decorating spree. That's typical girl behavior, right? I wouldn't know.
Shit, he caught me staring at him. He glared at me, and I got a definite "I will kill you in your sleep" vibe, but I kept right on looking. He was much too hot to look away from, even if half his face was in shadow. He was probably about my height, and he was definitely thin; fairly muscled but in that sexy, lean way that I like. And he was wearing a black leather midriff shirt. Very hot.
He scowled at me but he didn't look away either. Why was he scowling? That was uncalled for. For all he knows, I'm perfectly straight, can't tell he's a prostitute, and was not just wondering how much he charged per hour.
I smirked a bit at the thought. Poor guy. He's even gonna get gawked at in his own apartment, because I can see he has no curtains and my computer is right by the window. Since my computer is where I spend most of my time... sucks to be him. Pun intended. ('Cause he's a male prostitute? Get it?)
To my disappointment, he spun around and walked away. As he turned though, his gold, slightly ragged hair flared out behind him, and I could see that what I had thought was a shadow was actually a scar.
He hit ten with a deafening crash and an explosion of fireworks. Ten, equal to Johnny Depp, which was practically blasphemy.
Damn it, it was going to be hard to focus with a ten living so close to me.
I watched for a minute longer, hoping he'd come back. When I saw no more movement I sighed and returned to my computer.
Fanfiction. Fanfiction fixes everything. Who needs Ten (I had named him Ten) when you can read about Link and Marth getting sweaty? I ask you.
I found a nice M rated romance/humor. I required a bathroom break, but it was funny as hell whenever it wasn't making my pants too tight in front. I decided to leave a review, laughing to myself, that said something along the lines of '*nosebleed*' and 'lol.' It's so hard to find good lemon these days. I type quickly, so it only took a few seconds.
When I was done typing, I glanced out my window again, chewing on my cigarette. I was a little startled when I found him staring at me. And I mean, like seriously staring. I smiled my best 'sweet' smile, in response to which he flipped me the bird and stormed away.
That went well.
Okay, so now that my hot male prostitute of a neighbor would never be accepting me as a client, I had to again resign myself to the fact that I'd probably die a virgin. Oh, woe is Matt.
But that's okay. Fanfiction, aka fanservice, makes everything better. I'm not being sarcastic when I say this: Why pursue a real interpersonal relationship when you can read about the interpersonal relationships of fictional people, in explicit detail? I ask you. ...Again.
I couldn't help but keep looking, hoping for another glimpse of Ten. Unless he intended to crawl along the floor, I was going to see him at some point. Maybe I should set up cameras. No, too stalker-ish.
I shut down my computer at midnight because I was already pushing what I could afford with my electricity bill. As I stretched, thinking about the extremely fluffy ending that I had just read, I noticed movement on the other side of his window. I could just see the top corner of his front door as it opened and then slammed closed.
Definitely a prostitute. Who else goes out at midnight dressed like that?
If I took my car right now I could probably pick him up... No, that would just be awkward. Sigh.
I had stayed up all night the night before, so I turned in early (midnight is early for a gamer).
The next day there were flowery, pink curtains blocking my view of my very sexy neighbor.