It was Friday the thirteenth and coincidently Matt was having a bad day. He knew he should have stayed in bed; not that he was incredibly superstitious, he didn't actually see this coming or anything… but just in case, he should have stayed in bed, sleeping the day away. And he certainly could have done that; Matt was notorious for skipping class and he alone held the astounding high record of being able to sleep for more than twenty hours.

But he was willing to go to school today, like any other day. And so when he rolled out of bed and hit the wooden floor hard enough to bruise, he huffed, glared at the bed, and went on his way. Outside in the hall, Matt strolled slowly along his way to the nearest bathroom, praying that the usual early crowd had already left.

Of course, as luck would be against him today, they weren't. Matt could swear that some of the guys were just as vain and annoying as the girls and at the moment half the Whammy's male population gathered in front of the sinks and mirrors lining the wall. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and hair gel that made Matt want to choke. Keeping against the far wall, the red head tried to squeeze passed a pair of guys tormenting their hair into irregular spikes using spicy scented hair glue.

Paying more attention to getting around the many people, Matt wasn't focused on the ground… and the bag of clothes strategically placed in his way. When his foot caught in the bag's strap, Matt was sent crashing to the tiled floor with a yelp. His right knee hit the ground first, taking the full force of his tumble as he steadied himself with his hands. Groaning in pain, Matt stood up carefully, slowly bending his leg back and forth with a hiss of pain.

"Hey man, you okay," A voice asked, and Matt looked up to see the two boys with spiked hair looking at him in strangely. Whammy's House wasn't exactly huge, there were only fifty-eight orphans living there so they, of course, knew each other, that didn't mean they were close, however. K and T were their letter names; Matt didn't bother remembering anything else. They were roommates and always seen together, so much so that their names were usually combined to KT or Katie.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," Matt replied, his tone was strained, his knee throbbed in pain as he moved past the boys and finally into the open. He opened the door to a white painted bathroom stall, locking it behind him. He did his business, substituting a good magazine with the crude markings carved and/or written on the peeling walls of his cubical. And as he finished, his hand went for the toilet paper that should have been to his right only to find that it was empty and his hand was swiping at air. If that wasn't a sign that this day had gone downhill…

It took a total of five minutes to get anybody's attention and by the time he got the roll of precious white paper he was more than a little frustrated.

Slamming the door to his room a little too hard, Matt got dressed quickly, already ten minutes late for his Computer Forensics Training class. Grabbing his backpack off his wooden desk, the red head headed across the grounds. Their were two main buildings at Whammy's, one meant for the living quarters, including a cafeteria and game room, while the other building housed the many class rooms and a huge library/ study. Connecting the buildings was a simple walkway wide enough to fit two vehicles, covered with an aluminum awning. It was here that his backpack decided to fail him; a loud rip sounded and Matt's steps faltered as two heavy text books and three folders filled with paper crashed to the concrete.

"What the hell," Matt couldn't help it, the day had been one of the worst yet and it was only 10:30! Throwing his backpack to the ground, Matt kneeled to pick up his fallen papers, wincing as his knee protested. Books safely under his arm, he continued to class, cursing under his breath the whole way.

"Matt, you are late," hearing Mrs. Lare's loud and obnoxious voice instantly made him cringe as his body threatened to run. There is such a thing as being too happy; it's stupid, annoying, foolish, and unattractive. Matt couldn't stand people who were constantly smiling in his face, laughing and joking like the word serious or calm didn't exist in their dictionary. Even when she tried scolding him for arriving thirty minutes behind schedule her voice was too bubbly and her face smiled while her eyebrows drew closer together. It was almost scary and Matt just nodded jerkily and performed a half walk- half jog to his seat at the back of the room.

"Just in time though, dear. I'm passing out a surprise test!"

The class groaned, Matt included; her tests were quite difficult. After all, she may look and act stupid with her jolly round belly and light brown curly hair, and cheery disposition, but this was Whammy's… Teachers were not picked for their looks.

He was sure he bombed it. Despite his title as Third, Matt didn't particularly care about his grades; he never studied, skipped class frequently, and rarely turned in his homework. Hell, he didn't even know how he became Third in the first place, all the other students tried harder than he did.

After that class was over he traveled up stairs to his English class in which he found out that an essay was due. He looked over his shoulder to the boy behind him, "We had an essay?"

Raising an eyebrow, the boy looked unsurprised as he answered, "Yeah, over the Nature or Nurture beliefs in the late nineteen hundreds. Three pages, typed, MLA format. Jeez, pay attention sometimes, Matt."

"Ugh, no way, that sounds like work," The red head replied. The teacher picked up the students' papers and gave Matt a scathing look when he shrugged, showing his empty hands. "Seriously though, Mello," He continued when she turned back to begin her lecture. "This day is trying to kill me."

A snort of struggled laughter, "Why Matt, I didn't know you were so superstitious. But it's all in your head. People think this day brings them bad luck when it's really just them. Their paranoia makes it happen."

"No, I- Oh whatever, maybe."

"Are you still up for the movie marathon?"

"Hell yeah, we can't chicken out now, not after we got caught sneaking out to get them. That detention was brutal. I don't want to step foot into that kitchen ever again."

The two shared a soft laugh as they steadily took notes of the teacher's boring lecture over a popular play by a man named Ibsen. Mello poked him with the eraser end of his mechanical pencil, "You bring the movies at ten, and I'll get the popcorn."

"Gotcha," Matt replied with a smile.

Things only got worse for Matt; the teacher forced him to stay after class as a punishment for not turning in his essay. Two hours of steady writing and one more hour to get it finalized and submitted to the teacher. At five o'clock, Matt finally made it out of the class room, away from the dreadful teacher, and out the door, on his way to his room for a nap, or game, or something to keep him occupied until dinner.

On the walkway from one building to the next, a group of boys were busy playing football and it was getting competitive (as everything in this institution came to be). The team playing defense was mostly composed of the younger generation and believe it or not, they were winning. The elder children were not very happy about this fact. They planned to make a come back, and this was their chance.

Coming up with the ball, Jesse pulled his arm back, looking for potential openings. Tome was on the far right but a kid on the apposing team was hot on his heels, sure to catch him in a matter of seconds. Call was on the left sprinting for the goal, and practically left in a clearing, absolutely open. Jesse smirked, and prepared to throw the leather covered treasure in his hand, sure that this would be the play that would win the game.

Suddenly, a heavy force slammed into him, twisting the ball out of his hand and sending his body crashing into the ground and the breath was knocked out of him. Despite the fact that he couldn't breath at the moment, his eyes never lost sight of the ball as it flew. The brown oblong shape blurred as it sailed over the heads of the players, towards Call who held his arms open, ready to catch.

Wide eyes stared as Call jumped into the air, his finger tips brushing against the ball before it continued on its way, over the hedges and under the shining aluminum.

Matt didn't stand a chance.

With a big thump that was heard all across the field, the ball collided with a head of shaggy red hair, sending him tumbling down to the concrete, books and papers once again fanning out across the walkway.

For a second or two, the football payers just stared until one by one, they realized that the boy wasn't going to get up. And panic ensued.

Jesse, finding his breath, scrabbled up, pushing the boy who tackled him off rather harshly. He ran as fast as he could, joining Call as he kneeled by the red head who was apparently unconscious. "Shit," Jesse murmured, then spoke louder to whoever was nearest. "Go get the nurse!"

Matt woke up to one hell of a headache, centered at his temples; it throbbed as if his entire brain had been scrabbled about. He didn't even remember going to sleep. "Matt," the red head heard from somewhere to his right. Matt didn't want to move though, fearing his pain may intensify, so he grunted softly in acknowledgment. "Thank god… I thought you were dead."

"Mello?"

"Yeah, who the hell else would visit you in the infirmary? Surely not those bastards who did this to you. I'm going to kill them. Who the fuck can't throw a football straight anyway? It's stupid!"

Matt was about to reply when a shocked gasp interrupted him and a shrill voice echoed through the room, "Mello! Watch your language, young man, I will not tolerate it! If you can't hold your tongue you will not be allowed to visit your little friend anymore. I mean it!"

After another huff, Matt heard a door shut and he struggled not to laugh. His eyes were still closed, but he could just imagine the face Mello must be making. "Chill, Mel."

"Bitch," Was the whispered answer, and this time, Matt did laugh.

"Ow, my head feels like a melon, it's cracked."

"She said you have a very minor concussion. You're free to go back to the room whenever you're ready, so suck it up, you baby."

"But it hurts, Mello," The name was dragged out in a whine. "And this day is horrible! I probably got more bruises today then I get in a total year!"

"You'll be fine, Matt," A hand came up to sooth across his forehead, rubbing at temples until Matt's sour face relaxed. Green eyes finally opened and locked onto a familiar pair of blue. "Let's go get dinner then settle into our movie marathon early, okay?"

"Don't you have homework?"

"It is Friday; I have the weekend to finish it. Besides, it's about time your day started to look up, don't you think?"

Smiling, Matt lifted his hand to Mello's pale one, weaving the fingers together. "That would be great, Mel."

Together, the two boys traveled to the cafeteria, talking about which movie to watch first and how they were going to sneak in to get the popcorn. Thankfully, Matt's headache cleared significantly after his large meal of a chicken burger and fries and not two hours later, Matt and Mello were back, picking the lock on the kitchen pantry easily. They didn't have to worry too much of the microwave making too much noise seeing as everyone was upstairs, sleeping away.

While the popcorn popped away, Mello took the opportunity to steal a few bars of chocolate from the cabinet as Matt sat at the table; clicking frantically on the white DS he carried around everywhere.

"What game is that," Mello asked, leaning over his shoulder to get a good look at the screen, breath tickling the red head's neck and sending shivers down the spine, in which he hid particularly well.

"The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass. Awesome game, you bought it for me too, don't you remember, Mel?"

"Hm," Was the only reply and then there was silence. Blond hair shifted, falling over Matt's shoulder as Mello's face turned, lips brushing at the skin just below the red head's jaw line.

Matt let out a sigh of content, slightly tilting his head to allow Mello to continue; he was hardly paying attention to his game now. "You know," Matt whispered, although there was no reason to. "Tomorrow is Valentines Day."

Arms draped across his chest, and Mello nipped at the skin he'd been teasing before answering a simple, "So it is" then returned to his activities. Matt took the hint and shut up.

Even after the popcorn finished its popping in the microwave they stayed as they were, satisfied in their small, crude actions with the other that would make an outsider blush should they accidentally walk in to the scene.

By the time they actually got into the blonde's room with the bowl of popcorn in hand, watching a movie was the last thing on their minds

Matt landed on the bed, placing the bowl on the nightstand before pulling Mello down on top of him. The kiss was firm and demanding, which Matt knew the blond loved. No matter how badass the boy was, Mello didn't like to be in control all the time, and Matt enjoyed the way he could elicit those erotic sounds from his lover and best friend.

Rolling their tongues together slowly, Matt tried to concentrate on breathing, for he was running out of oxygen fast. When they broke apart Mello was the first to break the silence, "We're supposed to be watching a movie, not playing tonsil hockey."

"But I don't want to watch a movie anymore, Mel."

"'Cause you'll get scared."

Matt's eyebrows lowered, "I will not."

"Prove it."

"Okay, put one in."

As Mello got up to do so, Matt grumbled under his breath. On the eighteen-inch TV screen the set previews for the movie begun and Mello joined the red head on the bed, chuckling, "Maybe later we'll pick up where we left off, but I really wanted to see this movie."

With those words, and a quick peck on the cheek, the two settled in for the first of several hours. Event Horizon, Dawn of the Dead, Amityville Horror, In the Mouth of Madness, and Mirrors were watched in which, both boys had moments of unexplainable chills. Towards the end, Matt was practically in Mello's lap.

"Told you you'd get scared, you're shaking."

"You're shaking too, and my arm is numb from you squeezing it to death."

"Okay, okay. I'm a little freaked out about that old lady, who wouldn't be?"

Laughing, Matt stood and stopped the movie, turning off the TV and plunging the room into darkness. Mello climbed into bed, "Goodnight Matt."

The red head made a sound in agreement before started for the door. Before his hand reached the handle however, he was forced to stop as a wicked idea presented itself. "Mello," He began. "Today was one of the worst days in my life and I don't want to end it by going to sleep alone."

"Aw, the little Matt afraid he'll have nightmares?"

"Tomorrow is Valentines day too," He continued. "And what a perfect day that would be if I woke up next to you."

"That was supremely cheesy, Matt."

"How about it, Mel?"

A sigh, "Whatever, get in here, it's cold."

With a smile, Matt stumbled back to the bed, accidentally stubbing his toe in the process. "Shit, that hurt. See Mello?!"

Another laugh, the sound of sheets moving, and the bed squeaking as a second body occupied it. Matt whined as he snuggled into the side of the warm blond lying next to him, foot throbbing.

Arms wrapped around him and a kiss was placed on his lips. "That was just you, the days over, it's almost four o'clock in the morning."

"Oh," Was the only thing Matt could say as the silence took over them and both boys finally realized how tired they were. "Well, this is a great start."

…. Author's Note ….

I have no beta, I realize this is riddled with mistakes, I'm sorry I fail.

Wow, two updates in the time-span of two days. That's pretty good for such a lazy person such as myself. Consider this a thank you for all the people who care to review all the other stories I've written. And I dedicate this to… the Death Note Matt and Mello fan-group. There are a lot of you out there. This should keep you busy for all of ten minutes. Ha ha.

Review please.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.