Author's Note: Don't. Ask. o.o I suddenly wanted to write a fic where Matt hates Near's guts. And...well...this is what happened. I would like to make it clear that Matt acted on his own in this fic. I had no intentions of writing his...scene...but he had other ideas. I am still blushing, especially since Mello has just informed me of what HE wants to see in a fanfic...Ah well, Onward!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Galaga. Know why? This might actually make it into the manga, if I was in control. xP

Warning: Er...Matty-Fun-Time. Cussing. Yeah.

"Perhaps Matt can satiate his lust."

--

"God damn it, that little bastard," Matt hissed against the dim quiet of his room. He kicked a stack of CD's into the wall, gritting his teeth in an attempt not to scream. "I'm NOT like that. I don't care if Mello and Near go crazy over L. I don't care if L covers them in kisses and hugs. I don't give a fuck. I don't WANT L's attention."

He sank onto his bed, glaring at a spot in the carpet. Impatiently, he reached down and retrieved his Gameboy Color, flicking the power on without checking which game was inside.

"I mean, what do I look like? Some kinda freak?" He scoffed at the silent room, leaning back against one pale wall. "I don't care if L gives me the same looks that he gives Near and Mel. I don't want them. Near doesn't know what he's talking about. He's pretty stupid for Rank One. L doesn't want any of us in THAT way, regardless of how it looks. L's not like that."

Growing discontented with the Mortal Combat game that flashed colorfully in the haze of his sour mood, Matt flicked the OFF button and tossed the cartridge haphazardly into a stack of wires and lights that somehow related to his many gaming systems. He flopped backward on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Damn Near. I hate him so much. Mello's never bugged me about L before. Why the fuck does Near think he's so special? L is just a title. He's just a weird guy that likes sizing up the kids who might take over for him. He's not a pervert or anything. And lust? What kind of a word choice is that? What, does Near expect me to make out with the guy or something?" Matt snorted, tossing and turning on the sheets.

"Stupid Near. I stay as far away from L as possible."

He closed his eyes, still frowning, and tried forcing himself to sleep. After a brief moment of stillness, he quickly grew frustrated and flipped over to his side. Still uncomfortable, he twisted onto his stomach and willed sleep to capture him.

"I've got a test tomorrow, damn it. I need to sleep," he groaned. He shifted again, returning to his original position on his back, when an idea struck him.

It's not like he had never touched himself before. He'd just never done it while trying to fall asleep. He gently slipped one hand between the sheets, shivering as his cold fingers brushed his stomach. Although he was completely alone, with absolutely no chance of someone walking in on him, he still blushed furiously as he cupped himself under the blankets.

"Mmm," he sighed, "I don't need anyone else to make me happy…"

He worked his magic masterfully, treating his Lil'Matt like the precious joystick on the Galaga game at the arcade. His face began to heat; his breathing became erratic.

"Near doesn't know what he's talking about…" Matt thought, drowsily.

And then he thought of L.

He closed his eyes and pictured the detective, all sharp angles and jerky motions. L, the great detective. L, the older man with the haunting eyes. L, the person holding Mello and Near while smothering them with light kisses.

Matt moaned, eyes heavy with lust.

"It's…not…like that…" he gasped, getting closer and closer.

His fantasy-L blinked at him wordlessly, opening his arms to the redhead. Matt noticed cake icing, sweet strawberry, sticking to L's lips and fingertips. In the background, Mello and Near turned away in defeat. Fantasy-L reached his hand out, barely brushing Matt's cheek…

"Ahh!" Matt mewled, finally releasing the tension in his body all over his hand. He panted, head still cloudy, before closing his heavy eyelids against the darkness.

"Fucking Near…" he sighed, slipping off into a dream world filled with cakes and spaceships and strange, wide-eyed detectives.