Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

Some people know Mello, and then some people know Mello. Those who know Mello are very few indeed, and the only way you can get to know him is by giving something of yourself up to him. Me, I was one of the few people that knew him. Really knew him. And the only way for you to know him is if he gets to know you.

We had known each other from school, been in it together for every year, but we had never really been that close. He had been so competitive with Near, another kid in our class, that almost everyone was afraid to breathe the air around him, let alone talk to him. Me, well, I really wasn't competitive, nor did I really find him that threatening. And maybe that's why we got along so well when we were together.

We had been paired together for brief assignments before, but Miss Misora, our History teacher, decided to finally pair us together for a project. A family tree. I know, loads of fun. The only thing that I wasn't looking forward to about this project was the, well, project part of it. You see, some people might call me a slacker. I don't think that term is accurate. I just don't happen to enjoy wasting my time on meaningless work. And I knew this project was going to be an issue. You see, in the past times having to work with him, Mello had taken control of the situation, and I just basically sat back and acted cute. This time, however, I couldn't do that. We both had to make our own family trees, and that involved both of us working. Not only that, but out grades depended on all the work done, not just our own.

If I slacked off, I'm pretty sure Mello would have killed me. After Miss Misora had listed all the partners and sent us off to work, Mello walked over to me and gave me the death glare. I sighed, knowing that I couldn't just slack through this. If only I had been given a different partner.

Mello had decided that we needed to meet outside of school; classes weren't long enough for him to do this, and damned if he wasn't going to make a better family tree than Near, meaning I had to make a better family tree than Near as well.

Of course. And this was why I hated Miss Misora.

We met at the library that night, seeing as we were only given three days to work on the damn presentation. I walked through the doors a few minutes late, and I swear he was going to kill me. I walked over to the table he was spread out at, papers everywhere, pictures and articles.

"Wow," I said, not even bothering to greet him. "It looks like you've done my work too."

Mello glared at me. "You think you're so funny, don't you? Well, news flash. You better pick up your shit and start working, because I sure as hell am not helping you one bit."

Ouch.

Mello turned back to the table, picking up his pencil and writing something down. I sighed, knowing this was going to be a long night. Not only a long night, but a long three nights until this was done. I set out to find a deserted corner of the library, and I set my bag down and pulled out my laptop, trying to find something to use for my project.

Honestly, I had no idea why people liked to trace their ancestry. I thought it was pointless; they were all dead now, what use did it give me to know who they were now?

But still, I had to do the project. Well, I was supposed to anyways. I felt bad for Mello, because I knew he wouldn't be able to get the prefect grade that he wanted on the project. And it would all be my fault.

I didn't want to tell him, so I let it slide. Let him believe for as long as he wanted that I was actually working on the project. Seriously, I was playing games. I was able to get away with it for two hours, but then he came up to me, wanting to know how far I'd gotten.

"Well. I got about as far as myself," I told him, not even glancing at him. I could feel the hatred radiating from his body, and I knew that if we weren't in a library, he would have killed me on the spot.

"…you've been sitting here for the past two hours, doing nothing but playing games, and you haven't even gotten past yourself?" Mello yelled at me. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

I gazed up from my screen, and I could now see how pissed he was.

"You know this affects both of us, right? Are you doing this because of that?" He had clenched his fists by his sides, closing and opening them as he spoke. I could see little half moon shapes in his palms, little cuts where he had dug into his flesh.

"Fine!" He said, throwing his hands in the air. "You'll get your wish! I don't care anymore; I'll do both our projects. Happy? You can continue your ways of being a slacker and not doing anything ever in your goddamn life. But I do this for you, and you have to do me a favor. Never speak to me again. I'm done with you." He stormed back to where his things were, and packing them up quickly, he left. I sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened.

Mello…he had left? And he was so pissed off, all because I didn't do the project. Was that really so important to him? I couldn't even begin to comprehend that. It was a stupid project, why the hell was he so concerned?

I grabbed my bag off the floor and put my laptop back in it, pushing out of my chair and heading into the now darkened city. Zipping my hoodie up, I headed down the street to my house, waiting for tomorrow to come.

The next day, I went to school as usual, played games through class as usual, and ignored the teachers as usual. But I was distracted. I found myself glancing at Mello- first every now and then, but as the day went on, the glances became more frequent, and turned into stares. I would be tuning whichever teacher I had out, but my eyes would gravitate towards a certain blonde. After a while, I would realize what I was doing. I'd snap out of it and tune the teacher out more, only to find I would be staring at Mello again. This happened all day.

Not once did he acknowledge me.

We were given no class time to work on our projects; no time to meet or discuss things, so I couldn't explain anything to him. I couldn't tell him why I couldn't do the project, something I had figured out I needed to do. I owed him at least that, and I needed to let him know that he wouldn't be able to get anywhere with it either.

After History had ended, the bell rang and the rest of the class piled out of the room, Mello was still reading something in his textbook. I got out of my chair, and, slinging my bag over my shoulder, I walked over to him.

"Hey," I started, hoping he wouldn't ignore me still. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, and started to bounce a little bit. What can I say? I'm ADHD, and I really needed a cigarette.

He ignored me, throwing some things into his bag.

I tried again. "Okay, look, I'm sorry. I know I should have worked on the project, because it's a big grade and all-"

"Yeah, you should have," he cut in. "And now I get to do both yours and mine in hopes that we'll be able to get a good grade. All because you decided gaming was more important. Honestly, do you even care at all? Is this all a game to you?"

"Look," I began, but Mello cut me off.

"No, you look. I'll do this, but not for you. Just do me a favor and never speak to me again." Mello stalked out f the classroom, leaving me alone.

"Well, fuck."

I had to find him, explain to him. I couldn't let him go on thinking I was useless, that I only went here to make an impression. Because, while none of this mattered to me, it mattered to him. And I would do all I could to help him beat Near, not that he knew that.

I ran out of the class, down the halls and to Mello's locker. He wasn't there. I barely paused, heading straight for the exits. I knew he didn't have any after school activities; he spent almost all his time studying, and he would probably be back at the library working on the project. That was where I was heading.

The library was close by, and, running, I made it there in a few minutes. I slowed as I got to the doors, bending over to catch my breath. My sides were burning. I hadn't run that much since they forced us to take Physical Education class. Thank god that stopped almost as quickly as that started. I would have switched schools. Those few days were torture.

When I could breathe, I walked into the building, greeted immediately by the cool air and the smell of books. The whole place was quiet, the only sound interrupting that being the smack of fingers on a keyboard and the opening and closing of books. I took a right, heading to where Mello had been yesterday. I could only hope he would go back to that place.

He did. There he was, sitting hunched over a book, nose almost touching the pages. I stopped, holding my breath, and just watched him. Had he always looked that mature, that grown up; that attractive? His pale blond hair draped a veil in front of his face, making it hard to see his features. But I knew it was him all the same. I stared as he shifted from his position, flipping the page of his textbook. He then tucked his hair behind his ear, returning to the position he was in when I first arrived.

Watching him felt too surreal. He seemed so perfect here, like if I went up to him, the mirage would shatter. I didn't want to break the serenity, to make him angry and break the peace. But I knew I had to.

I took a breath, walking up to him. I could see he was looking for my family. His presentation was all completed, sitting neatly on the table. He let out a frustrated groan, and my heart started to pound a little faster. Did he find something? Impossible.

"You're not going to find anything," I said lightly, trying not to speak too loudly in the library. Mello jumped looking over at me. When he saw who I was, his eyes narrowed.

"What did I tell you? I'll do your damn project; just leave me the hell alone." He turned away from me, going back to the book.

"You're not going to find anything," I repeated. "Not in that book, or not online."

He turned back to me, a scowl on his face. "Or really? And why is that? Do you not have any family?"

"Yeah," I said bitterly. The way he said that was like a slap to the face. "I don't."

His eyes widened. "You're shitting me."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Nope, I'm not. That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time, Mello. I have no idea who my family is."

"But…but all you have to do is search your name. You'll get your ancestors, and you'll know that way."

"Do you honestly think I haven't tried that?" I said. "Do you think I'm that stupid to think of that? Well, news flash Mello. That only works when you know your name."

"What do you mean? You know your name Matt," Mello said, standing next to me. He dropped his book onto the chair, and a cushioned thud sounded. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I turned away from him.

"No I don't," I whispered harshly. "I don't."

Mello grabbed my shirt hesitantly. "Matt, look at me." I shook my head.

He pulled on my arm, forcing me to face him. He sucked in a breath when he saw me. "You're serious."

"No shit, Mels." I looked at the floor.

"Hey," he said. "Look at me."

I glanced up at him, the tears flowing down my face. He lifted up his arm, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off my cheeks.

"Explain to me what you mean," he said softly. "Please. I don't want to push you."

I sank down where I was standing, back against the bookcase behind me. Mello followed, throwing his arm around me in comfort. His hand traced circles on my back, and I shivered at how good it felt. I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder, and he let me. Taking a deep breath, I began to explain my story.

"Matt's not my name," I started.

"Yeah," Mello injected. "Your name's Mail."

I shook my head. "No. Mail's not my name either."
Mello looked at me in surprise. "Really? Then what's your name?"

I was quiet for a second. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mello whispered. "How don't you know?"

"Because…because I can't remember."

"You…you can't remember," he repeated incredulously.

I shook my head. "I can't. I can't remember anything from when I was younger. Not even my name."

"How long? How long has it been like this?"

"Since I was six," I answered in a hush.

Mello wrapped his arm around me and just held me. Tears were running down my face again, and it was all I could do not to break down. My breath was ragged, and I put my finger in my mouth, biting down on it to muffle my cries. The pain was intense, but it was bearable.

"Matty?" Mello asked after a while. His grip tightened. "Are you okay?"

I laughed cynically. "I'm never okay Mels." I wiped my eyes, the tears staring to decrease in number.

"Matty," Mello said, "don't say that."

"Why not? What do you know about me?"

Mello was silent for a moment.

"Exactly," I said.

"What do I know about you?" Mello said. "Not as much as I'd want to."

I took my head from his shoulder, looking him in the eyes. He was serious. "Why? What's so interesting about me?"

"What's not?" Mello said, and for a second, I believed him.

But then reality hit me, and I realized he had to be lying. "That's not true. What do you know? I'm stupid; I'm an idiot. I have nothing. I am nothing. I-"

"Matt," Mello interrupted.

I looked him in the eyes in time for him to capture my lips in a kiss.

It was sweet, the way he put his hand on the back of my neck, holding me gently in place, but letting me pull away if I wanted to. I didn't though. I wanted—needed—this. And I've needed it for a while. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me than I had had anyone before. I felt desire build up in me, and I let it take control. I lost where we were, I lost what we were supposed to be doing. I lost everything but him. The way his lips felt on mine, the tightening of his hand on my neck, the pressure and heat of his body against mine. It was all I could think about, all I could hope for.

And I didn't want it to end.

We broke for a quick breath our lips meeting quickly after. I wanted to moan; this was so much better than I could ever hope for. Mello's tongue, swirling around slowly in my mouth was pure bliss. He tasted of chocolate and mints, something only he could make delicious. I needed more of him. Not just now, but forever.

It came to an end, as it had to. I could tell Mello wanted more, like me. There was desire in his eyes, but not just for the kissing. His eyes wandered down my body, and I felt a blush creep onto my face. So this was what it was like to be craved.

I could tell he was feeling the same, because I wanted him too. Holding him as he both sat there, trying to catch our breath, there was nothing more I wanted to do. I leaned forward, quickly kissing him once more, and reveling in the feeling of him shivering for me.

"Matt…" he trailed off, his voice husky.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"Let me help you. Let me help you figure out who you are."

My heart swelled in joy. "Please," I whispered. "Help me."

A/N:

And that's the beginning. I have an idea, and it's taking off in my head. Please let me know what you think. Review, favorite, alert, the likes.

Due to the lack of response for my other story, this was spawned. Lol. xD I have to say, I like the idea for it. :DD I'll continue if people want me to. So let me know. (:

Some of this is edited, some isn't. I really don't want to go through it right now (I'm lazy and it's fricking hot right now) so I'll leave it be. I don't think it's too bad…I hope. xD