Disclaimer: Ohba and Obata own the characters, though I wish they'd made more of a relationship. I own this sticky lump of a story.
Enjoy!
"Come on, Matt. Stop playing with that damned machine and get your ass over here."
Mello pulled the fur-lined hood on his jacket over his head, shadowing his eyes. Where he was going, he didn't want to be seen.
"MATT!"
He leant impatiently against the door, tapping his feet inside heeled boots. Soon a lanky young man clad in stripes, goggles, and carrying a DS lite stumbled down the steps to the porch.
"Geez, there you are." Mello grabbed a beige suede jerkin from a hook and thrust it toward his friend. His friend, who merely stared at him blankly through tinted goggles.
"Uhm...where are we going exactly?" asked the red-haired man.
"Haha, mafia HQ, duh. We kidnapped the director of the NPA, Near is gonna be so pissed..."
Matt looked away and didn't take the coat.
"That's your life, Mello, not mine."
The blonde stared for a moment, and then dropped the coat at Matt's feet. He'd go alone again.
"Whatever, play on your stinking x-cube, see if I care..."
He turned on back on Matt, the dingy apartment, and shut the door with a bang. Once out into the cold and bitter wind, he tugged his fur-lined hood over his face, and made his way into the underground labyrinth. Mello fished in his pockets for some chocolate. It always had to be a fresh bar, but it didn't really matter what kind. Mello didn't care about the taste, he cared about the ability to rip away the foil and snap a huge chunk out of a once perfect bar. He craved the power.
Clang...clang...
He stomped down the metal stairs into the place where the director was being held. Mello looked away from the man tied to a chair breathing erratically. He hated to see a man so weak, but on the other hand it was good. Seeing someone so helpless made Mello looked strong in comparison. But he wasn't strong. He felt lonely...he needed someone here.
"Boss, you're back..." a woman murmured from across the cold and dank room. She licked her lips and stared at him with wide eyes. Women like that just didn't make him feel any better. This wasn't the life he wanted to lead.
Hours later, Mello returned to the apartment in a less than happy mood. When he opened the door he saw that his companion had left the games console on. He left it at the high scores table, which read:
1. MAT
10094437
2. MAT 7980024
3. MAT 6233989
He was sure if you scrolled down to number 100 you'd see 'MEL 001' from when he'd had a shot at the games. It was stupid, how did Matt manage to beat him at a shooting game? Mello was the one who had to do it in real life, which was what mattered.
The couch was empty, which meant Matt must be occupying the double bed. Usually he'd fall asleep playing his games, and Mello would get the bed all to himself. Sometimes he didn't mind sharing.
He kicked off his boots and flopped down onto the soft bed. A snuffling sound came from under the covers, and he could have sworn he heard a soft whisper.
'Mello...'
'Hey? Are you awake?'
Matt made no further sound, but turned on his side, dreaming. Mello lay on his back, staring up at the mouldy ceiling. This isn't the life I wanted to lead...
AN: Hah, I completed a Death Note oneshot. There's no shounen-ai, or anything, but in my mind they're always a pair. There's so much people made up you can't really ignore it. What I mean is that I wrote this while thinking that something would happen to them after this event. Hell, this is no event, I just wanted to portray the characters. But it was nice to write.
I just was sitting on the bus, staring out the window, and all of a sudden I see this thing. This tree, window, bus stop, person- and it just reminds me of something. Something happened there, someone lived there. And my minds starts writing before my fingers.
I don't know what I'm on about, do you? Click the blue 'Go' button, wondrous things will happen.