Author's Note= Whooo, YAOI! I've been all excited with the upcoming convention and everything, and this idea came to me. It WOULD NOT leave me alone, I WAS going to suggest it to another author to write, but I'm like "Oh, wth, I might as well try." and here we are. ^.^ Ah, so here's my attempt at something MattXMello that's not a poem. =P I tried to swich things up and make it different.

A/N 9/22= I'm editing these chapters, I've noticed a lot of errors, and it's beginning to bother me, so I'm beginning the edit ^^

Mello's POV

It always rains here. And at the same time, it never does. Everytime I turn around it's raining, but when I want it to rain, it's sunny.

I allow myself to release a sigh as I sit up and stretch, silently getting out of the queen sized bed in my small room. The room is black, with black walls, and a dirty beige carpet inluminated by weak artificial lights overhead. Dingy white ceiling, black furniture consisting of a wardrobe, a bed, a night stand, and a full length mirror.

I stand up, and examine myself in the mirror. I can see the whole room behind me. All of the small room in the base given to me by my boss. I then turn my gaze back and look into icy blue-gray eyes. Eyes that are tired, weary, and hollow. My eyes. Blonde hair cut just above thin shoulders, bangs partly obscure the empty eyes. The thin shoulders lead the eyes down to a slim but still built chest. Surprisingly the skin was still smooth and unscarred. Baggy black sweatpants covered the man in the mirror's legs.

I sighed, shaking my head. Thinking in third person wasn't healthy. Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I go over to the wardrobe and pull out my usual leather vest, pulling it on slowly, I zip it up. Not looking in the mirror even once, I pull off my sweatpants and take out a leather pair. Slipping them on and tying the laces almost painfully tight, I spin around to face the mirror. I make my eyes dark, cold, and menacing. With my preparation done, I push open my door, while running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to calm it a little.

I strut into the main room of the head quarters. Yes, I'm in the Mafia if you can't guess. I try to give off a 'Stay-the-fuck-away-from-me' vibe. Apperently it works on everyone but Rod. Rod Ross is my boss. Yes, it rhymes, get fucking over it.

"Hey Mello." he says, laid-back with two girls hanging on to him; hired whores no doubt.

"Hey Ross, what's up?" I ask casually. Sitting down on a part of the couch that I claimed as mine. Meaning that there would be no fucking there. Not unless you wanted to die.

"Did you find me a hacker?" he asked, an amused smile on his lips, full-well knowing that I hadn't.

Holding back a grimace, I shook my head and picked up a chocolate bar out of a bowl on the table. My Bowl. I unwrapped it, and bit a peice off. At this point in time, I didn't enjoy the 'snap' it made.

"Don't worry about it." Ross said, a smirk on his face. "I found us one. The guys are bringing him in later."

Thoroughly disturbed that Ross had gotten a guy without me, I inquired, "What? No name? No age?" I paused with a smirk. "No looks?"

"Ha... Not bad looking. Firey red hair, not sure what color eyes. Oh, ya." he grinned, "His name is Matt."

Involinarily my eyes widened, Matt... Could it be...? That kid...

"Know him, Mello?" Rod asked.

Knowing that it was pointless to lie, I anwsered truthfully.

"We went to the same orphanage. I never got to know him well... Total introvert..." Rod seemed satisfied with this anwser.

Just then, Snyder and Paul burst in.

"Boss! He got away!" Only then did they notice me, when I impaintently snapped off a peice of chocolate, enjoying the sound it created this time.

By this time, Rod was standing up, the two whores from before gone with the wind.

"What? How do you 'LOSE' a lazy-ass hacker?" he roared, his tone held frustration.

"H-he wasn't there!" Paul said, panicking.

"Wasn't where?" I asked cooly. If this guy had gotten away, and he was the 'Matt' I thought he was, then I'd need a clear head to catch him.

Afterall, he was a Wammy's kid.

Though I didn't know much about this Matt kid. Some things I did know. Matt had been ranked third during his time at Wammy's. I also know that he left some time before me, when I had been 13, making him 12. It had seemed as though Roger had expected Matt to leave. I also know that he had specialized in technology. I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of him before. Probably because I thought he had died, or that he'd dropped off the face of the Earth.

"He wasn't at his apartment, and his place was trashed." Handing a picture to Rod, Paul paused before continueing, "We found this note though."

Rod handed me the note:

"We called dibs on this pretty boy.
Boss like exotic colors. Thanks for letting us know about his hacking talents.
Bitch never told us.- Bl00derz"

Damn. Someone got there first. No. Mello. Doesn't. Lose.

Angrily, I bit off a peice of chocolate and began to think. Start with the obvious...

"Take me to his apartment." I said, my tone cold and unforgiving.

After a short ride over, we came to a stop in front of a half-way house. Surprisingly, it looked to be a pretty nice place- worn, but nice.
Snyder and Paul led me to the 6th floor, and into apartment 13. Matt must have a sense of humor. Unfortunatly, the inside of his apartment wasn't in too good shape.

The walls were a dingy white, the hardwood floor could scarcely be seen. Clothes were everywhere. Still likes stripes; I noted in a bored fashion. The most noticable things in the room were the electronics. A set of large speakers were against the far wall, under a window. To my right, a big-ass TV with all the game systems imaginable; PS3, PS2, X-Box, X-Box 360, Gamecube... is that a Nintendo 64? Games were scattered, further obstructing the veiw of the floor.

In the middle of the room lay the controllers, as well as 3 laptops. The place for the forth was evident, as there was no dust. Also there was an ashtray over-stuffed with cigarette butts... wait, make that 2 ashtrays. God, this Matt was a serious chain-smoker. Other than that, the only other noticable things were two desk-tops on the left wall of the room.

Careful not to step on anything moldy- Wait, where was the food? Did this guy eat? Or only smoke...? Gross. Anyway, I made my way over to the bathroom, and Ta da! Our first clue! Semen.

Yum.

Pulling out a pair of gloves from my pants (You have no clue what I can put in there...). I slip them on, and like a true CSI, I swab it for DNA. I ignore the questions from Snyder and Paul.

After safely putting away the samples from the washroom (In my pants, where else?), I move to my next destination; the bedroom. My jaw drops as I enter the room. In contrast to the bathroom and main room, the bedroom looks... Untouched. The bed is made, the floor is clean, and when I look in the closet, it's empty.

"Whoa, you think he moved?" Snyder asks, like the idiot he is.

"Of course he didn't." I spat.

Snyder didn't take kindly to this.

"How do you fucking know? You little whore." he snarles.

At this, I do what any normal person would do. I take out my gun, aim it between his eyes and take off the safety latch (Stupid thing, who thinks of "Safety" and guns at the same time?).

... Okay. Any normal... Mello.

Fucking get over it.

"I fucking know because-"

"Because I'm right here." a quiet and weay voice states; tone revealing that the speaker was tired.

Snyder whips around and aims his gun. Meanwhile, I lower mine.

"Snyder, lower your weapon." Paul says, understanding my strategy.

Heh, I like Paul, I'll keep him around. Maybe.

Now turning my attention back to the owner of the apartment.

He was slumped over, his body free of all outward tension. His hair was indeed a firey red, and his eyes were covered by orange goggles. His hair was overgrown, his bangs would have covered his eyes even if he hadn't the eye gear. He wore a black and white striped shirt and loose skinny jeans, combat boots pulled over. A cigarette dangled from his lips and he was focused on the PSP in his hands, his fingers worked quickely, jittering over the buttons.

"Hello, Matt. Remember me?" When I received no response, I simply continued. "I'm Mello. Ring any bells?" His fingers paused for a milisecond before he shut off his game and looked up slightly.

"Rings a few." he said, "But I haven't got any time to chat." and with that he turned away from the bedroom and returned to the living room, I decided to follow him.

Once he entered the main room, he began shutting down the laptops and game systems. He carefully opened a bag that I hadn't noticed before, he put some of the clothes from the floor over a laptop that was already in the bag (The missing one from earlier, no doubt). Then, with a lot of TLC he placed the next laptop in, then used some more clothes, then repeated the proccess until all the laptops were packed, then closed the bag. He placed the bag just outside the door. Is he crazy? This place may look nice, but I'm sure as hell that it'll get stolen... His loss, not mine.

When I turn my attention back to Matt, he was repeating the same thing, only this time with his larger game systems. Once that's packed, he leaves it by the door too. He takes out another smaller bag (Where is he getting all of these bags?) and puts his DS (And when did he get that?) in the bag, then packs some cords and a countless amount of games for DS and PSP.

"I'm out." was all he said as he walked out the door. It was only then that I noticed two things:

The fact that his bags were gone. And the black SUV waiting outside.

As he got into the vehicle, I could only swear.

Mello Lost. Mello. Doesn't. Like. To. Lose.