Chapter 1
The light came down on his body, and I couldn't believe what I saw. Red was everywhere. Little cuts covered his body. None of the cuts by themselves would have done any harm, but together they could do major damage, if not kill him. I was lucky I got there in time. I couldn't tell if any cuts covered his head, because his hair was almost the exact same color as the dried and matted, goopy puddles of blood surrounding and covering his limp body. I wanted to scream, but I knew that that needed to wait until he was safe, and on the mend. I tried to stem the blood flow, attacking the smallest cuts, which weren't much bigger than the littlest ones, with ripped bits of my shirt. It was leather, and fuzzy on the inside, but it was the only material I had to use, so I ripped up the entire thing and just wrapped his body as much as I could, putting pressure on all of the cuts that I could manage. Once the ambulance got there, I lost it.
That's how I found him that night. The night I almost lost my Matt.
You're probably wondering who I am, so I'll indulge you. My name is Mihael Kheel, but I go by Mello. Matt's name is Mail Jeevas, but he, obviously, goes by Matt. I guess you'll want to know the story behind why I almost lost him, my Matt, so I'll have to start at the beginning. We grew up together, in an orphanage called Wammy's House. This was no ordinary orphanage. The orphans here were all extremely intelligent, the most intelligent children, or should I say people, in the world. Wammy had a gift for finding rare and unique intelligence. L was the first orphan he found, and by far the most intelligent. All the children who grew up in Wammy's House practically revered L. But no one more than the three runners' up for his title, which includes myself. Regrettably, the number one runner up is an albino freak who likes to play with toys, named Near. I won't tell you his real name, because he needs to keep that a secret, just like L did. I am runner up number two, because Near surpasses me, but barely. Matt is runner up number three, and also my best friend.
L still hadn't chosen who his heir would be when he was killed by Kira. It was between Near and myself. Wammy was killed by Kira at the same time as L, and so Roger, the orphanage caretaker, had to choose the next L. He chose the freak, as I'm sure you've already figured out. So Near inherited not only the name of L, the greatest detective in the world, but also the former's riches.
Being the hot-head that I am, yes I do admit it, I ran away from Wammy's House after Roger chose Near. I was only fifteen then, but I was intelligent beyond my years, and so managed to make my way to America and wiggle my way into the position of mafia boss by the time I was seventeen. I regret my hot-headedness when leaving Wammy's, because in the anger that came with not being L's successor, I forgot to say goodbye to my Matt.
Anyway, while being mafia boss, I tried to catch Kira before Near, to prove my superiority. My plan didn't work though, and I ended up almost killing myself with an explosion when Kira's oblivious father found out my real name. I barely escaped the building, mainly because the heat of the explosion did major damage to the left side of my face, arm, and chest. The pain was unbearable, and when I made it out of the building, I collapsed. Right into the arms of my Matt.
I couldn't believe my Matt was holding me. How did he know where I was? But it didn't matter at that point because the pain was so severe. I passed out cold in his arms, and when I woke up, I was in a shabby little, secluded apartment, lying on a couch with bandages all over. Matt was there too. When whatever drugs he had given me for the pain had worn off enough that I could speak again, I asked him how he knew where to find me, and why he had come for me, when I'd been such a jerk and forgotten to say goodbye to him back at Wammy's House in England. The smart aleck retort that was part of my best friend's personality was,
"I am number three. Almost as smart as you, and definitely smart enough to find you. I've been following you for almost two years. When you left Wammy's House, I assumed you didn't want to be found, but I felt the need to find you. So I just kept myself hidden."
Oh how I missed him those two years. I'd never tell him so. That'd be too girly. My girly scale was already filled up due to my hair, my fashion sense, and my insatiable need for chocolate. And so I told him that I wouldn't have minded if he had shown himself earlier. If it had been the albino freak on the other hand, I'd have shot him. (That was one of the advantages of being mafia boss. You got the guns, and there was always someone willing to take the rap for you if the police came onto you.)
After awhile, the drugs started to wear off completely. All I could feel was massive burning pain on the left side of my body. I don't know how he got them, where he got them from, or how he knew how much to give me, but Matt kept some major ass painkillers in his apartment, and kept me drugged up for about the next three weeks. When the pain was low enough that I could tolerate it without the painkillers, morphine probably, I asked Matt if he knew about how long it would take to heal completely. All he said was that I wasn't allowed to go anywhere, not outside the building, or his apartment itself, until it was completely healed. This didn't bother me much, because with my line of thinking, little pain meant that it was almost done healing.
Apparently I was wrong, because he wouldn't let me out for another month. While I don't mind being holed up in one place for long amounts of time, this was just too much. It drove me fucking insane within three days after being off the morphine. Especially since Matt kept leaving the place. It pissed me off to no end, and so I had decided to make it clear when he got home that night that I was going to leave the apartment, healed or not, whether he liked it or not. My plan of doing this was never accomplished however, because when he came home, he had chocolate. Three bags full of glorious chocolate bars, just for me! He still knew me well enough after two years of being apart that chocolate was my undoing.
While I was distracted by the bags of chocolate, I failed to notice that he had carried another bag in with him. Once I had a chocolate bar in hand though, the bag came right back into my sight. Seeing that the bag was black and opaque, and though he was my best friend and I knew he wouldn't betray me in any way, shape, or form, I got suspicious. What could he possibly be hiding in that bag? It wasn't like him to hide things from me, and so I just asked him what else he got. He blushed. And then ran. No answer, he just ran from me. More like bolted for his bedroom door. What the hell was up with that? And then it hit me. Oh my God. He didn't, did he? He should know I don't care if he buys porn or not. Hell, I have my own stash I'd share with him! Well, had anyway. Being as blunt as I was, I headed towards his room to tell him just that. But when I got to the door, I realized he left the bag outside his door. Not as full as it was before, but there it was sitting. With a piece of paper on top of it with my name on it.
Puzzled, I opened the folded note, and read what it said. It pretty much told me that he had bought me some clothes, since all mine were destroyed, and I didn't look comfortable in his. Well, wasn't that considerate? I laughed and opened the bag, and realized why he blushed. Or at least, that's what I thought. The clothes he bought for me suited my personality and fashion sense perfectly, but not quite his. He must have felt so odd going to a place where they'd sell my type of clothes. Strictly speaking, I have this leather fetish. I can't help it. And the feathers. I have to have my feathers, and chains and all that good kinky stuff on the side. I didn't try to hide it, and he knew it. And so, since that wasn't what he was used to buying or wearing, he must have felt like a freak when going to buy them for me.
Hey wait… Did I just call myself a freak? Meh, oh well. I can't really deny it. I do have an unhealthy addiction to leather, feathers, chains, and chocolate.
Anyway, not only did he buy me the right kind of clothes, but he bought the right size and everything! Then again, I suppose that wasn't too hard to figure out, since we're the same size in everything we wear… Then again, the type of clothes I wear have slightly different size scales than normal clothes.. Did that mean that he actually tried them on to get the right size? I couldn't help but laugh at that thought. Matt. Nerdy Matt. Nerdy, geeky, so not kinky Matt. Trying on different types of kinky leather outfits to find the right size for me. It was just too good. He must have blushed even worse while he was trying them on!
With that thought, I had the strangest feeling come over me. I was suddenly hot. Burning hot. Not like the burning from my almost healed wounds, but like I was… aroused. Now how the hell did that happen? All I had done was imagine Matt blushing like hell while trying on leather kink wear. More heat. Oh my God. I was getting hot thinking about Matt. Matt. Nerdy Matt. Nerdy, geeky, my best friend Matt. It's not like it had never crossed my mind before that he was hot. Far from it. I knew he was hot, even when we were younger. I just never thought of him as anything other than my best friend.
So now it just confused me even more. I was all of a sudden getting hot off of thoughts of my best friend, of like all my life, blushing while trying on my kinky clothes. Dude, was I gay? Nah, women were hot. I'd do some of them. But for some reason, at the moment, I wanted to do my best friend. What the hell was up with that?
And as I was getting hotter just thinking about Matt, and the clothes he had probably tried on that came out of the black bag, another thought hit me. And this one hit hard. Before I noticed the note, I had noticed that the bag wasn't as full as it had been when he walked into the apartment. Did that mean…? No. But wait… Maybe he wasn't blushing because of the clothes he bought me. Maybe he was blushing because of something he had bought for himself. Nah. It had to be that he tried on my clothes. He's not into kinky shit like I am. And with that positive description, I silently thanked Matt, and shrugged out of his baggy clothes. I swear, he might not have been kinky, but he was a freak too. He had this weird ass stripe fetish, and he was obsessed with video games. Never put the damn things down.
Now completely naked, I couldn't decide whether I wanted to go to the bathroom to fix my little heat problem due to my ever wandering thoughts of Matt, or if I wanted to just try to forget about it, put my new clothes on, and see what Matt was up to in his room. Wanting to feel leather after a little over three weeks of not having any, I decided to go for the latter. The pants were tight enough that you couldn't really tell I was hot and bothered unless you took a good look down there anyway. And so, back in my lovely leather and feathers and chains, I strode into Matt's room, not even bothering to knock on the door. I was prepared to ask Matt what he was up to, but not for what I walked in to see.
