This fanfic is dedicated to my best friend Charmaine, since today is her birthday :) Happy Birthday Charmaine!

I asked her what plot she would like, but all she said was "Friends to lovers" and told me that she didn't want to "spoil" the surprise -_-

And happy birthday to John Cena—WWE wrester :D

And also, belated happy birthday to Arthur Kirkland (Hetalia) :D His birthday was yesterday!

I hope this comes out good, since it's my first time writing a one shot.

My dad helped me writing this fic—he didn't actually write it, but he gave me the information I needed. Having a dad that was once a soldier has its advantages :))

And I just realized that I love torturing our Mello. Nye *shrugs*

A glass of Vodka

"Mello…where the hell are you?"

An agitated gamer nervously bit his lip as he frantically typed on the keyboard of his laptop trying to track down a certain mafia boss. It had been a week since his best friend left their shared apartment merely because of a fight. The blond had been mad at the gamer with the accusation of being a "useless piece of shit" because Matt had not been paying attention to the monitors he had been assigned to watch.

Matt was used being called different names by the blond and he didn't particularly mind. Mello tended to slip hurtful words when he was angry, but Matt knew he didn't mean them. It had always been like this, even when they where living at Wammy's.

But this time…it was different. It was the first time Matt saw his friend react so violently. He shouted different curses, crashed anything in sight, and even pointed a gun at the gamer. When Matt didn't react to most of them, the blond grabbed him by the front of his shirt and punched him square in the face.

Matt was surprised, to say the least. Even though Mello tended to act violent at times, he never, ever made a move to hurt the gamer.

Mello left after muttering a faint "I hate you" and slammed the door of their apartment shut. Matt thought that Mello would come back after a night of work but when he woke up the next morning, Mello was no where to be found. That was when he started to panic.

He used his hacking skills to track his best friend but whatever Matt tried, he couldn't hunt down the blond. He was worried, anything could happen when your best friend was working with the mafia. What if they hurt him? What if…they killed him?

Matt deliberately inhaled his cigarette and shook his head, erasing the thought that crossed his mind. He was about to use another method to find Mello when he heard his phone ring, its tone echoing through the eerie room.

Matt leaned forward and grabbed the phone from the coffee table. Without checking the caller ID, he clicked the 'answer' button and pressed it to his ear. For a moment, the only sounds he heard were the faint beeps of cars and sirens. His frown deepened as he looked at the caller ID—an unknown number.

"Hello?" he waited for a reply. His blood ran cold when he heard a hoarse, hacking cough followed by a round of struggling breaths. All Matt's attention focused on the devise that was pressed against his ear as he desperately tried to analyze the sounds he was hearing.

"Hey, hello?" he repeated, a bit more alarmed.

There was a moment of silence, but then he heard a strangled sob. "M-Matt…"

Matt's eyes widened and he immediately sat up the couch. His heartbeat thudded in his chest. No, it couldn't be…why did he sound so weak? "Mello?" he replied, his voice showed urgency. "Mells, talk to me, where are you?"

"M-Matt…" a sob, "Matt, h-help…me…"

Matt felt himself panic. He tried to keep his voice steady. "Mello, tell me where you are." he urged.

He heard a hiss before the other end of the line replied, "I…" a weak chuckle, "I have n-no idea…"

Matt felt his body control him as he opened the laptop he was using to trace the call. He tried to control his trembling fingers as he typed on the keys, the phone pressed against his ear and his shoulders. "Don't worry Mello, I'll be right there." After a few seconds, he finally matched the caller ID. He blinked. At an abandoned factory? That was a fifteen minute ride from their apartment. Matt snapped the laptop shut and stood.

"Please…h-hurry…" the shallow breath of the blond weakened, and the phone went dead. Matt, alarmed, immediately grabbed his cigarette, the gun that was sitting on top of the table, his keys and his vest before he sprinted towards the door, not bothering to lock it.

He almost stumbled while he was descending down the stairs of the building of their apartment and jerked the door of his car with the force he never thought he'd use. He sat, started the engine and stomped on the paddle. His car's wheels shrieked and the Camaro drove in full speed, breaking most of the road's rules.

Fear clouded his mind and adrenalin pumped through his veins. He placed a cigarette stick between his lips and lighted it, inhaling a deep breath to calm his trembling form. He turned the wheel with such speed that the car almost slid out of control but Matt managed to hold its actions. He was not frightened nor was he afraid, what he felt was beyond those nouns.

His cheery-red Camaro abruptly came to a halt as the gamer burst out of his car and ran towards the abandoned factory. He quickened his pace and entered the dilapidated building. He shuffled into the dark area, his eyes flickering back and forth searching for any sign of life. His hand unconsciously tightened around the gun he held.

He searched around the dimly lit surroundings, his shadow flickering through the errant beams of light it brought from the city. He bit his lip and began to sprint, his boots tapping the damp floor of the building.

His heart froze and his stomach turned cold when he saw a familiar body lying limply across the darkness. He stopped and took a deep breath. He carefully approached the blond and knelt beside him. He could feel his flight responses kick in and it increased his heart rate at a faster speed when he saw his unconscious best friend. He was lying on his own pool of blood, his clothes tattered and ripped, his whole body covered in bruises and deep cuts.

Matt had to stifle the gasp at the sight of his broken friend. He carefully cradled the blond as he checked for his pulse. He released a relieved sigh when he felt a faint thumping on his wrist.

"Mello…" he brushed the bloodied strands of hair the blond had on his face as a solitary tear dropped from his eye."What have you done to yourself?"

Matt's heartbeat caught in his throat when the blond stirred and slowly cracked his eyelids open. Mello gave the gamer a faint smile and carefully raised a limp hand to wipe the tears that cascaded down Matt's cheek, muttering a faint, "I'm g-glad you …came." before he passed out completely.

Matt silently gulped and shoved his gun in his back pocket and placed his arms around the blonds' neck and below his knees. He slowly lifted him up, being careful not to touch the blonds' wounds. He inwardly flinched when he felt Mello's blood drip from his shoulder to the gamer's shirt. Mello was losing a lot of blood; he had to bring him to the hospital. It was not a choice—he wouldn't be able to forgive himself when his best friend would die in his arms.

He left the building while carrying Mello in his strong arms. He approached his car, opened the backseat with a little effort and carefully laid the blond inside. His stripped shirt was covered in blood, his gloved hands moist. He shrugged his furry jacket off and covered Mello's emaciated form. He must have been cold, his leather vest was shredded, his pants ripped.

What did those people do to him? He swore to hunt down the fuckers that did this to his best friend. It was then that he noticed that Mello had been shot—in the shoulder. He panicked, his stomach knotted but focused on what he had to do. He climbed in and sat beside the blond. Matt ripped his sleeve with the strength adrenalin brought him and without a word wrapped the piece of clothing under Mello's armpit and up his shoulder to apply pressure. He tightened the grip, making Mello gasp and shot up to his elbows. Matt carefully lowered the blond and pressed on the wound.

"Mello, it's alright, I'll take you to the hospital. All you have to do at the moment is to apply—"

"No!" Matt did a double take at Mello's sudden sheik. The blond took a deep shuddering breath. "M-Matt, don't…" the blond shook his head."Don't take m-me to the hospital."

Matt gaped at the blond. "What? Mello, you were shot!" Matt claimed. He couldn't believe what he heard. Mello was bleeding to death, for God's sake! "I have to take you—"

Mello grasped the hand that was applying pressure to his shoulder, successfully silencing the gamer. "Please…don't…" the blonde's desperate tone filled the silent air. "If you'd take me, we'll both be im-imprisoned…" Mello struggled to form a coherent sentence. The blood loss was slowly clouding his mind. He was about to speak up once again but paused when Matt slowly nodded his head, biting his lower lip in disdain. Matt didn't care if he would be thrown into prison or not, he just wanted to save his friend. But knowing the blonds' hard-headedness, he knew he couldn't do anything else. If he would argue about this topic, there would be a chance that Mello wouldn't make it alive before all his blood drained from his body.

"A-alright…Mello, apply pressure in this area." The blond followed and pressed on his shoulder. Matt gave Mello a last glance before he stepped out of the back seat and into the driver's seat. He started the engine that grunted and roared, and Matt stomped the paddle at full speed but being careful not to send Mello tumbling back into the car's floor.

Matt carefully laid the bloodied blond on his bed. The piece of cloth that was wrapped on Mello shoulder had now accumulated the dark-red fluid of the blond. Matt gulped heavily as he tried to remember all the knowledge he had learned from Wammy's. He mentally cursed himself; he should have listened instead of playing his video games while the teacher explained. He never thought he would need it, but he never also thought that his best friend would engage in dangerous mafia acts.

He did remember, however, the time when Mello came to him also bloodied, but burned other than shot. He took a deep breath and ran to their small kitchen. He grabbed all the necessary items he'd need—a basin of water, the first aid kit, a sharp knife and—

"Shit," he cursed when he remembered that they had no alcohol. He dug inside cabinets and drawers, looking for a substitute. He mentally sighed when he found an unopened bottle of vodka. That'll do.

He turned the kitchen stove and silently thanked that it still had gas. He switched the fire up and placed the sharp knife onto the heat. He had to have the knife scalding hot.

He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

He went back to his room and found the blond trying to sit up. The mattress was covered with his red liquid. Matt ran up to the blond and told him not to move. This earned a glare from the injured blond but Matt ignored it and gently pushed him back to the bed. Matt had to pull out the bullet from his shoulder.

He kneeled in front of Mello and opened the bottle of vodka. He sat on Mello's bed and took in a shaky breath.

"I need to pull out the bullet." He tried to sound calm, in control. He didn't want Mello to panic. "It'll have an infection if I don't."

The blond merely nodded and closed his eyes. Matt leaned closer and removed the cloth. The blood was still dripping from his shoulder. He had to stop the bleeding—

"Pressure point…shit, where's the pressure point?"

"E-elbow…" he heard a faint mutter from the blond. Mello was now pale, his blue eyes that had been piercing now stared listlessly, dull and lifeless. This made Matt worry. Mello was shivering, trembling because of all the blood loss—not only from his shoulder but also from his left leg. He had a deep open would that looked like someone had stabbed it. Matt couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed before.

He stood and opened his cabinet, ignoring the fallen clothes that tumbled down, and grabbed a random shirt. He took hold of the knife he took from the kitchen and dragged it across the fabric, ripping it in the middle. He folded the cloth and wrapped it around Mello's leg and tightened it. Mello gave out a strangled hiss.

"Mello, c-can you hear me?" Mello had to be conscious, if he wasn't, there might be a possibility that he wouldn't wake up. The thought made Matt's heart clench uncomfortably. He couldn't help but blame himself. If he watched the goddamn monitors in the first place, this wouldn't have happened!

"Yeah…" the blond groaned, slurring his words.

"Ok," he grabbed the bottle of vodka and opened it. He poured some into a glass and held it in front of Mello's lips, urging him to drink it. "Drink this, it'll dull the pain."

Mello didn't protest as he drank the bitter liquid. Alcohol would make your system numb, even if just a bit, and it would lessen the pain that Mello was about to face.

As the last drop of vodka traveled down the blonde's throat, Matt stood and entered the kitchen. He looked at the knife—the metal was now a bright red because of the heat—and pulled the other sleeve of his shirt to grab the knife's handle, effectively keeping his hands unburned. He grabbed a mental plate and dropped it on top.

He entered his room and placed the metal plate on the bedside table. He trembled. He didn't notice the tears that steamed down his face. The guilt was eating him. Here was Mello, all bloodied and pale—at the peak of death—all because of him. He shook his head and fiercely wiped the tears off his face. He had to save his best friend. He had to save the one he loved.

"Mello," he whispered close to the blond, holding his cold hand. Tears threatened to escape his eyes but he managed to keep them in. "I'll pull the bullet now, alright? But it'll hurt like a bitch." he warned.

Mello opened his eyes and looked around the room. His eyes stopped when he saw the knife, steaming in heat, and he immediately shot up, startling Matt.

"No," he shook his head, red coated strands flying from side to side. "No, no no no, Matt, don't..." Mello sobbed and entirely unwelcome tears dropped from his eyes.

"Mello, I have to—"

"No!" The blond shrieked, releasing the grip Matt has on his hands. "Not fires…no more fires! I can't—no, Matt please…don't. I'm b-begging you…" the blond pleaded. He had his experience with heat and fire before; he didn't want to experience it once again. He was traumatized because of the explosion that happened merely five months ago.

Matt had to fight back the tears forming in his eyes. It was the first time Mello had looked so…hopeless, defeated. He didn't want to see him like this, but he had to do it. If he didn't pull the bullet out, Mello would die sooner because of an infection.

The gamer held Mello's uninjured shoulder and slowly pushed him to the mattress. Mello pleadingly looked up at him, biting his lip while muttering faint "Don't, please…"

Matt had to do it. He had no choice.

The gamer grabbed the knife, but Mello made a move to escape. Matt stood up and straddled the blond to the bed, effectively pinning him. This way, Mello had no where to go.

He held onto Mello's chest so that he wouldn't move. As he lowered the knife to the injured area, Mello shook his head violently.

"Matt, no…please. D-don't, you won't—FUCK!" Matt carefully plunged the knife to the injured shoulder. He heard Mello's screams and shouts of protest as he dug into the flesh of his best friend. He bit his lower lip as he heard the sound and smell of burning flesh. He tried to keep the blond to stop moving and he tried to keep himself in control. His whole body was shaking. He was hurting Mello.

"F-fuck—ahhhh!" the blonde choked out a cry as Matt moved the blade, searching for the bullet. Mello heaved in and out, his chest rising and falling as new formed tears continued to spill from his eyes. Mello let out another shrieking cry that pierced his ears as painfully deep as the blade that dug into his shoulder.

"Shit! Ma—AAH!"

"Mell—Don't move! Stay still, I got it, don't worry…" Matt tried to calm the blond down, but he himself felt panicked. But despite the deep guilt that panged his heart, pulled the bullet from Mello's shoulder in one swift move, successfully removing the offensive piece of metal.

As soon as the bullet was pulled, Mello shakily took a deep breath and released. The pain almost instantly left his body. Matt climbed off the bed and kneeled down beside the blond. Mello's hand groped sleepily for his, and finally grasped it. It seemed to fill him with relief.

But Matt was far from finished.

"Mells..." he gently kissed the blonds' hand. "I'm sorry…" he held the hand to his cheek. Mello lazily shook his head as the pain started to overcome his broken form once again.

"No…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" The blond couldn't form any other coherent sentence but he gave Matt a small smile. "You s-still have to…seal the wound…" Mello gulped silently. His throat was dry and he felt like shit, but when he's with Matt, he knows that the pain will soon subside.

Matt nodded and wiped the blood using the vodka—since it had a strong amount of alcohol—and carefully cleaned the rest of the blonds' body. His arms, legs, stomach, shoulder and face was slowly being treated. Mello would give out a hiss and grunt of pain every now and then, but everytime he felt pain take over his body, he held Matt's hand. Mello was thankful that he had a friend with a beautiful soul. He silently thanked God for letting Matt stay by his side.

When it was time to seal the wound with a sterile needle, Mello immediately braced himself for the pain he has about to face. He bit his lip and Matt slowly, but carefully, sewed the open wound.

The next thirty minutes ended with agonizing and torturous screams from the blond. His shrieks echoed about their eerie apartment, but Matt soothed him at every new stitch.

A few moments later, an angelic blond—even though he smelled strongly of vodka—was now sleeping peacefully in his own clean bed. Matt carried the unconscious blond to Mello's room since his bed sheets were covered in blood. He couldn't believe what he had just done, but, for the first time in his life, he thanked the God above for saving his best friend.

Thank you…thank you for helping me…

Mello sleepily opened his eyelids, squinting at the sudden bright light. Despite the excruciating pain he felt, he managed to sit up.

It was only that time when he noticed a hand interlocked with his. He raised his head and saw the gentle smile that greeted him.

"Good morning Mells…" the redhead greeted. He stayed awake all night. He couldn't sleep; he kept checking the blonds' pulse, checked if Mello was still breathing, if he would still wake up. Throughout the night he prayed to the idol that Mello called God, and he believed. He believed that there really was a God.

"M-Matt? What time is it?"

"Five am."

Mello furrowed his eyebrows and recalled last night events. He was about to thank the redhead but Matt managed to talk first.

"I didn't know you talk in your sleep." The redhead grinned. Mello blinked, and he suddenly felt a new wave of heat brush across his face. He didn't know what he said, but whatever it was, it made the redhead …happy.

"What did I say?"

Matt carefully leaned in and softly, carefully, kissed his forehead. Mello was surprised, Matt used to kiss his forehead when they where little kids at Wammy's, but never when they left the orphanage. Another blush formed on Mello's cheek.

Before Mello would ask what Matt was doing, the redhead leaned closer and closed the small gap between their lips, giving the blond a gentle, chaste but sweet kiss.

Matt pulled back, a small smile playing on his lips. "I love you too, Mells."

So Charmaine, what do you think? Good, bad, WTF is this? :D This is longest thing I've written (aside from Sir. DC's history projects). Happy birthday once again!

And to all who read this fanfic, thank you! I hope you drop a review? :)