Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters.
Warnings: References to smoking and an implied relationship between Matt and Mello
Author's Note: I wanted to write something involving Matt and Mello to get a "feel" for their characters, and since today was Valentine's Day, this was the end result. I had a terrible time trying to name this.

Forgotten

Annoying, repetitive noises came from the beat-up sofa in the corner of the apartment. The constant beeping, each note a different pitch, was beginning to wear on Mello's already worn-out nerves. It was already the night before Valentine's Day, but Matt had yet to show any signs of cultural awareness.

This put Mello on edge. The gamer seemed oblivious to his best friend's distress.

"Matt?" Mello asked, his voice communicating his annoyance. "Turn the volume down."

"Sure." Matt did not truly comply with the demand, choosing to instead plug in a pair of headphones.

Some minutes of ear-ringing silence passed, Mello growing more flustered with each moment. He began tapping his fingers against the arm of the computer chair, and when that ceased to amuse him, he cracked each knuckle with careful precision. That entertained him for only a minute or two (for he did not have an infinite number of that particular type of joint, after all). Soon enough, sighing in frustration, he left the room with an irritated, "Good night, Matt."

Unknown to Mello, Matt's eyes followed his lover's trail. When the wall impaired his vision, Matt allowed a simple smile to show on his face.

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Mello awoke with a groan as sunlight danced its way into the room and onto the sensitive skin of his eyelids. Though his eyes were shut, the annoyance could still be seen (though in a slightly dark red color). He absent-mindedly stretched his arm to his right as though in habit, grasping for the warmth of a human body. His hand rested on Matt's rising and falling chest for a few minutes, all the while Mello noting that each breath seemed a bit more of a struggle than it should be. If only he could get him off of nicotine...

Mello then pushed his way out of the comfy bed, already missing its warmth. His baggy t-shirt and loose-fitting shorts did nothing to provide the heat he craved. However, he found that the desire was satisfied when he found himself slaving over the stove in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with the purpose of perhaps surprising Matt when he awakened.

As if on cue, the sleepy red-head made his way with heavy steps to the dining room table, immediately resting his head upon its gleaming surface. He raised it a couple minutes later when he heard the clang of a plate and fork beside him. He looked down at the breakfast food in mock-confusion and raised his eyebrow in a facade. "It's not like you to cook, Mello."

The statement made just the tiniest bit of anger pulse through Mello's veins. Had Matt forgotten about this special day, a full twenty-four hours dedicated to romance? Even if it was a holiday now celebrated so that stores could get a couple of extra bucks by playing off of sickeningly sweet commercials and procrastinating boyfriends, there was some sort of magic about it, wasn't there?

"Eat," Mello said gruffly, already digging his fork into the fluffy food.

"Okay."

And after that, most of the day was spent in silence. Matt and Mello hardly spoke a word to each other, with Matt choosing to play his video games rather than spend time with Mello.

Mello was about ready to go to bed frustrated for the second night in a row when something heart-shaped and somewhat heavy landed in his lap. Matt grinned wolfishly as he slid into the bedroom.

...He hadn't forgotten, after all.