I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train,
I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side.

"Matt." I demand, and he presses start to pause his game, glancing up at me. I smirk to myself; I've trained him well. I bit into my chocolate bar, and gestured toward the door with it. He sighed lightly, turning off his game and sliding it into his vest pocket. He goggles snap in place over his eyes, and he stands to open the door for me.
I take another bite of the bar as we walk down the sidewalk, his elbow occasionally brushing agaisnt my forearm. He lights up a ciggarette, letting it dangle between his lips. He glances over at me through the orange in question, but I simply grab his elbow and veer him toward the entrance to the subway. He drops the butt of his cigeratte, and I laugh lightly to myself. He smiles too, remembering the same memory as I.

When we first got together, we were in England for a while. I got extremely bored, and Matt was speaking with an overly-exaggerated-fake-sounding British accent. I smirked and sent him to get me chocolate, losing interest. He stopped in an alleyway, and I crept up behind him as he smoked, slamming my hips into his cute ass. "You can bum a fag, now can I?" He laughed in responce, and told me I didn't have to ask.

I glanced over at him, his hair especially red and shiny in the low lights of the train. He had one arm up holding onto a pole, and I slipped closer to him as the last person got of our car, and no more entered. We entered a tunnel and a shadow overcast the two of us, and I grabbed his face lightly in my hands, gently pulling him close to me. I pressed my slightly parted lips to his, feeling him respond immediatly. I kept the kiss as innocent as I possibly could, pressing my mouth hard agaisnt his, rubbing my fingers in light circles on his cheeks.

He gasped in suprise at the sweet intensity of the kiss I was giving him, but I still made no move to dip my tougne in his mouth, instead moved to the side of his mouth, pressing light kisses. I pulled away with a small smile, and he blinked at me with a glazed look. I pulled him close, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding him lightly, swaying like they do in movies- or during a slow dance. I pressed my lips to his once more, fiercly, trying to stroked the back of his throat my tougne. I felt like I was eating his face, but he mewled lightly in responce, opening his mouth more and squeezing me tighter. We pulled apart as the doors opened, and I started walking toward them. Matt stood in place, eyes twinkling. I grabbed one arm, yanking him out of the train.

"Idiot."

Here is the church and here is the steeple. We sure are cute for two ugly people.

I stared up in awe at the building infront of us, looking at Mello with an understanding confusion building in my chest. He took a deep breath, staring at the Catholic Church with respect. It was huge; an older church with ornate statues of gargoyles, and large stained-glass windows. I studied the way the way the burned side of his face was half-hidden behind his long, golden blonde hair, the defiant, strong line of his jawbone, the hard look in his eyes. He was wearing the tightest leather pants I'd ever seen, underneath large black combat boots, a black wife-beater and a black leather jacket with black feathers around the collar. The long red rosary hung around his neck, and his muscles were defined beneath them. I thought of my own plain face, obscured by orangle goggles, my jeans tight, as well as my black and white shirt underneath. My puffy tan jacket with the white fur over top. The small square buldge of my game in one pocket, along with the rectangle of my ciggarettes. We both looked extremely odd, niether of us looking very special, or attractive. But, at the same time, getting super-model stares and second glances from passing women. The sight of both of us standing outside the church was ubsurd. Mello slowly began up the stares, walking fast. I hurried after him, doing a quick Hail Mary as I walked in the doors. He walked down the pews, taking a right by the alter.
He walked into the confessional booth, gesturing for me to sit in his lap.

The pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive me, so why can't you forgive me?

"Father?" Mello asked from underneath me, looking toward the covered window.

"Yes, my son...s?" A voice replied, making me jump lightly, causing Mello's rosary beads to clack together.

"Father, I- we have sinned." Mello replied, 'causing my brow to furrow. The voice sighed.

"Yes, my son. I've seen alot of homosexuality lately. I assume that is what your refering to."

"Yes, Father." I had never heard Mello speak with such dignity, and respect. Only to L, when we were young. He sounded like a child again. He nuzzled his forehead into my back, as almost an apology. But, this was Mello, it was probably only an itch.

"I am proud of you, my sons, for coming to apologize for your sins. May I ask what exactly you would like me to forgive you for, however, as it seems you are not very sorry for your sins." Mello nodded lightly, and I realized that even though there was metal over the little window thaat the Father could obviously see our actions.

"I have a question, Father." Mello sounded sheepish, and he forceful jabbed me in that back of the neck before continuing. "When we die, will he still be able to go to heaven?" I tensed horribly in Mello's lap, not because he insinuated death, but becuase he obviously thought his sins added together, on top of us being a couple, meant no way for him to get into heaven. The Father seemed to miss this, however.

"You say this as if you are dying, my son." The father said lightly.

"We're- erm- detectives. It makes me nervous, Father, knowing that he is in danger." As Mello squeezed me tighter I could just barely feel the rosary beads through my vest. His words shocked me, and I now understood what the kisses meant. I shifted to look at him, but a thin finger jabbed me again, and I stopped.

"I believe that he will be accepted, yes. Be careful my son, in your work. You are doing a job most people are not brave enough to do." The Father replied.

"Thank you, Father. You are too." Mello shoved me forward, forcing me off his lap, and out of the booth. He walked quickly from the church, and I follwed him silently, pulling out another ciggarette as he munched on a chocolate bar. I knew better than to ask questions.

~~~AFewDaysLater~~~

Up up down down left right left right B A start;
Just because we use cheats doesn't mean we're not smart.

I jammed the buttons as fast as I could, feeling Mello's crotch by my shoulder as I finished off the boss. He leaned over lightly, smelling of chocolate and soap, and sweat, and other delicious Mello-y smells.

"Cheater-cheater, Mello eater." He taunted, twisting the childish rhyme to have a perverted twist. I laughed, then pouted.

"Using cheats doesn't make me a-" I trailed off, turning my head to glare at him as he grinned lazily.
"Shut up, Mell."

Suddenly I was thrown from my chair and onto the floor, Mello's hands at either side of my head, glaring down at me with a smite-filled expression.

"Did you just tell me what to do, Matty?" He sneered, and I shook my head.

"Uhm, it was just a suggestion." I replied, resisting the urge to buck my hips into his ass.

He picked up on this, and sat up more, making sure his ass hovered over my crotch, but didn't even brush it. I lifted off my goggles, and leaned back on my elbows, glaring at the inch seperating my and his perfect formed butt, the leatcher streched taught over the two perfect curves creating an effect much like Syran Wrap over a bowl. The taught-ness creating a shine, just asking for you to run a finger over it, or push down on it. I suppose that's what made me realize I was gay. Mello's fucking ass. The way it dipped in, an apple bottom I believe, the way his legs stuck out from underneath it, the cheeks just asking- no pleading- to be cupped. The black leather ass did just what a pair of nice C-Cup breasts in a tight shirt did for most men. How the material billows between them, streching smooth over the center, and wrinkling as it meets her sides. Mello snapped me out of my reverie by dropping his weight down, slamming his perfected ass onto my crotch full force. Had it not made me hard, and a moaning mess on the floor, it may have hurt.

You are always trying to keep it real,
I'm in love with how you feel.

Sex with Matt was one of my favorite times. The events leading up to it, during of course, and after made me extremely happy. I think I like sex so much with Matt 'cause it was the one time that he gave in to me, and I could control him without feeling guilty. It was easier for me to express my feelings for him; something that was hard for me. If I wasn't so possive I'd almost like to watch someone, or something, else get him off, just so I could watch him get off. But, at the same time, it'd defeat the purpose. I like to tease Matt because I know it's me giving him pleasure, making him happy; me. The light blush that went across his cheekbones, then traveled until his whole check was a light cherry red, neck straining, mouth open in silent gasps and moans. I liked to see him like that.
I truly care for the man; who was currently writhing beneath me as I ground little circles into his crotch. I smirked again, leaning back as Matt reached for him.

"Mel-oohhh, ahahhaha." He went to protest, but as soon as he did I ground down, bouncing slightly. He growl-panted at me, and I leaned forward for him. He grabbed my face with one hand, running his fingers over my scar. I blushed lightly, then smirked.

"If I'd have known it'd make you a submissive sexaholic, I'd blown myself up sooner." I smirked and Matt threw his hips upward, catching his hard-on on the bottom of mine. I gasped lightly, and he shimmied around to get out from underneath me, pausing and wiggling more, making my through my head back. His long, skilled fingers ran over my neck, before slipping off my jacket, and shirt, pushing me toward the bedroom as he ripped off his clothes on the way up. I smirked and climbed up on the bed.

We both have shiny happy fits of rage

"I wanna seme." He stated, narrowing his eyes.

"You hafta fight for it." I state, and wait for his responce.

He glomps me onto my back, leaning down to sinks his teeth into my neck like a vampire. I slap his ass hard, then squeeze it hard in my hand. I jam one knee between his legs, rubbing him with my leg. He moves down to one nipple, placing his mouth on it, and creating a lovely hickey wround the hardened bud. I squirm lightly, and the other hand reaches up to yank on the left nipple. I gasped loudly, yanking at his hair.

"Oh-okay!" He pulls away to kiss me again, and yanks off his pants and boxers as I peel the leather away from skin.

He turns to kick the door shut and I notice that my handprint is still a bit red, little cresent indents of my nails begining to fill back out. As he turns around I roll on my knees, shaking my ass at him as he walks. He jumps back on the bed, grabbing a hold of my hips, leaning forward to run his fingers and lips across the large scars on my back, and I feel his tongue run across the back of my collarbone a few times. He slides into me a few times, thrusting around for leverage, then twists lightly, slamming into my prostate. I moan loudly, twitching, and he continues to thrust. If you can say anything about Matt, it's that he's good in bed. He angles himself so only half of him hit my prostate, the fucking tease. We continue into a heap of moans, my elbows start shaking lightly, and he leans back, then slams in, flopping forward. We both explode, staying still for a moment, then laying down, pulling over the covers.

I don't see, what anyone can see in anyone else,
But you.

We both were worried for the longest time that we'd become interested in someone else, but no one else was as appealing. I never understood how people could fall in love, until I'd met him. The only thing L was better at then detective work was being a matchmaker. No one ate chocolate right, and leather looked skanky, trivial things just didn't compare. I didn't see the love or cuteness in anyone else anymore, even when people pointed it out, it just wasn't attractive. Not like you. My friend before my lover. My friend even more so, more importanly than, my lover. I was just glad you were the same person. Because if you were my lover only, I'd be a shitty best friend.

{A/N: It's pretty jumpy, I know, and I'm sorry. I also apologize for the paragraph long 'how-good-Mello's-ass-leather-looks ramble. I couldn't stop. :sobs: XD}