Here, have some angst.

Mail Jeevas, more commonly known as Matt, sat next to the coffee table in his stingy apartment. Since Matt was a kid, he'd loved getting his own way, although slightly more subtly than everyone else.

Matt, you know, if you just applied yourself you could easily surpass Mello and Near.

Matt had shrugged off his words at the time; he'd rather be number 3 and not have suffered years of trauma at the hands of Mello then been number one and have had his wrists broken.

But now, Matt couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like if he had applied himself correctly. Certainly not like this.

He scrambled about the floor looking for a lighter to light his next cigarette, what was a little cancer when you were the loneliest man in the world?

Now, c'mon, Matt, that's a little bit of an overstatement.

Matt breathed in the regular scent of nicotine and toxins that ran though his apartment.

Matt really, really wished he had applied himself, because right now Mello beating him up was better than this.

Anything was better than this.

Matt and Mello's friendship was originally a thing of convenience. Although there were plenty of rooms in the big manor known as Wammy's, the two boys had been made to room together because Matt suffered from night terrors and who the hell knew what he'd do if he was alone.

Matt knew now. In his apartment, all alone, unable to sleep at night, he'd pump himself full of caffeine and pray that he didn't black out at just the right time to fall and kill himself. So far so good.

So Matt and Mello began to room together. With Mello's harsh studying into the earlier hours of the morning, Matt the insomniac was a convenient roommate, and Mello needed someone to make him look good.

When you first go to Wammy's there's a few weeks grace period before they start testing you and add your scores to the boards. These few weeks were long enough for Matt to learn enough about his roommate through watching him to know that his inferiority complex would dash any possible friendship they could have. So Matt sat back, and enjoyed his Gameboy, later updated to a DS, to a PsP, whilst being careful enough to not score higher than Mello more than once a year.

Because of this, Matt and Mello's friendship grew until they were no longer Matt, no longer Mello, they were one being: MattandMello. You'd never see the one without the other somewhere nearby, and if one of them got in trouble, you'd be sure to see both of them going down for it.

That was the nice part about rooming with Mello, he was a good kid once you got past the... Mello.

The hard part was his obsession with Near.

Matt sighed, stumping out his cigarette and starting up his Ps2, superior console that it is and all, his memories of Mello were tainted by Near, Near, and more Near.

Mello was fucking obsessed with him, being better than him. Every time the scores were posted Matt would hide under the bed in their room and allow Mello to scream and get his anger out before going into fits and tears and allowing Matt to comfort him. It was always screaming and tears, he never took it well.

Matt, of all things, was jealous.

He couldn't get that sort of emotional response from Mello, and he wanted a emotional response so much.

Matt was a romantic, he always imagined his first kiss being so beautiful and romantic, he imagined the girl and he to be madly in love, he fantasised about it for Christ sake.

Until that one day when he stopped giving a shit about girls and spent all of his time worrying about Mello. It was obvious to everyone but Mello and he that he was madly in love with Mello, annoyingly obvious.

But by the time that Matt had realized what his feelings meant, Mello was already climbing out of the window in the night, already telling Matt that he had to lie for him, already saying their goodbyes, and already gone before Matt had the chance to do anything but nod.

And Matt continued on as usual, just going through life. His first kiss had been with a girl he met in a coffee shop and dated for a year and a half. She'd been pretty but she was no Mello and she left him when the arguments got too bad.

I know you don't love me.

Well leave.

Prick.

Bitch.

I hate you.

I never loved you.

He remained alone when she was gone until around two weeks previous, when there'd been a knock at the door and a beaten up looking man stood scowling at the door, all leather and scowls and waves of anger. All Mello.

Matt had slammed the door in his face, before opening it again and pulling him in, then slamming the door again. He'd screamed at him every swear under the sun and put his foot through the coffee table glass, before bursting into angry tears.

Mello had promptly grabbed him, picked up glass, and asked him for something to, you know, cover up the burns covering his fucking beautiful face.

And they'd settled back into their same old friendship.

Until two hours ago, when Matt had gone batshit crazy at Mello for his stupid fucking ideas that were going to get them killed, and the argument had ended when Matt pressed his lips against Mello's in what was possibly the most awkward, one sided kiss he had ever experienced. Ever. Mello had pushed Matt back and left, closing the door behind him.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Matt took a swig from his bottle; he'd exchanged energy drinks for alcohol for, well, the first time ever. The occasion called for getting as drunk as possible and jumping off a bridge. Because it's bad enough getting rejected, but getting rejected by a guy, the very same guy that you'd been in love with for seven well, it calls for getting drunk and jumping off a bridge, because why the hell not?

Someone's fist slammed into the door, probably Mello back to pick up his gun so he could go shoot more people, but Matt didn't answer. And when he didn't answer, the door was flung open and a very pissed and confused Mello stood at the doorway.

Matt barely looked up.

That is until Mello stormed over, grabbed him, and shoved his lips against his brown haired best friend, practically raping his mouth. When they parted, Matt grabbed Mello by the hair before they even had the chance to say anything, and pulled him in again, resuming the kiss.

"I love you."

"That's cool, I like you too."

"I have for years."

"Yeah okay now shut up, Matt."

And they all lived happily ever after.

...until Mello got them killed.

Happy fucking New Year, everybody.

As you all know, it's November.

And I love angst ffff. 3

It's not like this idea is at all original, but I just wanted to get the point across that Matt is smarter than all of them, and I felt like adding a plot to it whilst I did. Also, this was originally being to be one of those "strictly one sided crush" stories, but fuck I couldn't let Matt die like that.

Also, this is probably riddled with mistakes, but it's late.