Title: Reward

Summary: "Honestly? I'm just watching you watch me. And I'm wondering... if you have what it takes... to top me." Mello's POV. OneShot

Disclaimer: I don't own DN.

Author's Note: Sorry for being MIA! Spent some time with Adrian -my semi-official boyfriend! *smile* Anyways, I got into a severe gaming session. This is my brain's aftermath. It's terrible, I know, but hey... someone might like it.

…

Coming in from a hard day's work, my boots were off before I even slammed the door shut, alerting my life partner of my presence -that is, assuming he could hear me over the loud gaming music that assaulted me.

Granted, it wasn't loud per se -I was used to loud things: gunfire, club music, the dying screams of a prostitute – but it was certainly nerve-racking. A simple melody that was just abstract NOT to be catchy. Along with that tune was a rapid succession of blips and beeps.

The sound grated on my ears as I stripped out of my leather jacket and headed toward the fridge, scrounging for something to quench my...- ? My what? In my mind, I knew I wanted something, but whether it was a beverage for my thirst or food for my hunger, I couldn't say.

Perhaps I was simply in a gluttonous mood.

In any case, I settled on grabbing a chocolate bar. The wrapper was peeled and tossed aside on my short trip to the living room, in which was the cause of my newly-acquired headache: the televison. -Or, more specifically, the theme music radiating from the speakers as a game was played by the one person I deemed qualified to be my friend: Matt.

Taking a deep breath to quell my annoyance, I seated myself next to him, chocolate making its way to and from my lips as I bit at leisure.

It took only a moment for my eyes to lock onto the screen, on which stood two men. They were talking -rather, dialogue was being passed back and forth in the form of white text in blue boxes, simulating a conversation.

I didn't bother reading it, but from the what I gathered, Matt was playing some sort of minigame, and his character was talking to the host of said minigame.

After only a few quick clicks punctuated by obnoxious beeps, the minigame began. Matt's character stood to the side, and a long strand of bleh scrolled across the screen.

By 'bleh,' I mean... some form of coding. Strange, really. I couldn't follow at first, but with a glance toward Matt's active fingers and a double take toward the tv, I realized that he was following the code with ease, matching Triangle, Square, X, Cirlce, L1, L2, R1, R2, Up, Left, Down, and Right within an imaginary time limit.

"Dafuq are you doin'?" I ask, finishing the last of my chocolate bar.

At this point, I don't really expect him to answer; he usually doesn't talk at all during a gaming session... unless I turn it off or shoot the tv, but I was feeling rather generous, so... no broken tv -for now.

Much to my surprise, he does answer, verbally. "Minigame. It started with a code that came in a sequence of four, but that was Lv 1. I'm up to sequences of 22, and I only have a few seconds to complete it before-" and he stops talking; his breath hitches and his eyes close.

I watch with mild curiosity as his head rolls back and the entirety of his body stiffens for just a moment before he straightens his posture, lightly thumbs each button on the controller, and steels his focus on his game.

For some reason I couldn't fathom, I found myself interested in what had caused that reaction, and so I began a silent observation.

Watching him watch the screen.

His eyes were hard as he stared, unblinking. His lips were slightly parted but his jaw was locked. Rather than breathing rhythmically, he seemed to halt his respiration during a code sequence, and he took a deep and rewarding breath between each set.

When he made a mistake -because even Matt, self-proclaimed Ultimate Gamer, made mistakes – his eyes would close and his head would roll back; for that moment, he seemed to be savoring something, and yet he looked pained.

Perhaps that was his own form of reprimand, followed by a bout of preponderance?

After the mistake, he realigned his posture and redirected his focus; his fingers flexed in preparation and he tried again and again. The errors he made appeared miniscule, but each one seemed to hit him like a physical blow.

Then there were times when he just sat there, controller slack in his grip as he watched the code scroll along; he didn't even try to match it. Instead, he just watched, analyzing. And then, on the next set, he did better.

Before long, he was hitting every sequence perfectly, holding his breath during the button-mashing and rewarding himself with oxygen afterwards. On parts he found particularly easy, his ankles would twist or his toes would curl. On parts he had to struggle with, his eyes were wide, slightly manic, and his wrists would lock up, veins appearing more pronounced.

After some time, he must've been satisfied because a small smirk ghosted over his lips and he set the controller down. He didn't seem to notice the sheen of sweat on his palms or the way his fingers still twitched, nerves still jumping for buttons that were out of reach.

Eventually, my eyes found his, and I realized that he was staring at me. "What are you looking at?" I snapped, feeling my own body jerk in agitation.

But he shrugs and leans back, so casual, and says: "Honestly? I'm just watching you watch me. And I'm wondering... if you have what it takes... to top me."

As those words left his mouth, a sudden excitement stirred within me and I felt my body jerk. "Me? Top you? As if I would allow it to be any other way!" A thrill of sexual expectation had me ready and reeling, prepared for any advancement and already planning two and three steps ahead of whatever move he might pull.

But... imagine my surprise when he reclaims his game controller for the briefest second before handing it to me. And he says "'kay. Get a better score than me, and perhaps I'll reward you."

…

I was starting on Lv fuckin' 1, as Matt had set it up that way. At first, I was very indignant because I was so sure I could do better... but after my first try, my allegedly infallible confidence waned.

The string of code was so small. Only four or five, and yet, I was unable to match it. By the time my brain had processed it, the time limit was up, and my fingers had yet to make the connection on what to do.

And it didn't get easier.

I grew agitated and began to make mistakes before the code was even displayed.

And what's more, I could feel Matt's amusement without even looking at him.

"Relax," he said after my ninth fail. "You're trying too hard. It might take a while, but it gets easier if you just calm down. Don't stress over it."

"But-!"

"But nothing. Look at the controller where the buttons are. Then, watch the screen."

"Yeah, but I-!"

"Chill. Don't look at it like a pattern. -That's what you're doin, Mells, isn't it? You're trying to analyze a pattern and commit it to memory before even pressing the buttons, but you can't do that. Trust me."

"Then, how-?"

"Because of the RGN (Random Number Generator) you can't be sure if and when there is a pattern, so your best bet is to look at each sequence as its own separate part. And pay close attention to the beeps; they really help."

I honestly had no faith in what he was saying; every fiber of my being told me to analyze and then hit the damn buttons, but the cognitive skills I had did not work well with the task I was presented with. So, with a deep breath, I sat back and thumbed the buttons before trying again. Then, I was relieved to see an icon pop up, signalling that I'd gotten a sequence correct. "Matt, I did it!"

"Good job. Now, try another one."

And I did.

And another one.

And yet another one.

Before I knew it, hours passed and my score was almost tied with Matt's. I was getting better, and I wanted his praise, but... when I looked over for some form of acknowledgement, I found him laying back, eyes closed, and... -that redheaded bastard was sleeping through my success!

A surge of agitation ripped through me and manifested in my throwing of the game controller.

But Matt didn't even stir.

My gaze lingered on him and my anger-filled eyes softened; I found myself smiling instead... because he looked truly content, and to see such a sight in this world of chaos and disruption and pain, it was reward enough for me.

…

/Lame, but here it is. Review!/