also posted to my ao3, glueskin. i simply wanted to post something, and though this is short, im fond of it. near is written with neutral they/them/their pronouns. i write matt as being hypersensitive to visual input.
i initially wrote this in early december, when i finished my death note reread.
Near finds him, for once.
Matt's buried himself beneath his blankets, feeling as if someone is scraping their nails along the inside of his skull, the sharp pain making it hard for him to see or think.
He has days like this. Sometimes it lasts for a few minutes, sometimes a few hours, sometimes the whole day; the goggles help, but sometimes it's too bright or too loud or too much of both and then he can't see through the bright spots in his vision.
Mello had brought him to their shared room after he had nearly fainted in the courtyard, shutting off all the lights and leaving him, because Mello needs light and noise and Matt doesn't blame him for being unable to keep still or quiet for as long as Matt will probably need.
Near, though; Matt hadn't expected it, but when the creak of the door opening hits him like a train, he groans and peeks over the covers. It's Near, looking like a ghost—a smudge of grey-white against the darkness of the room.
"May I?" Near asks, and Matt nods jerkily, pulling the covers back over his head. There's a shuffling as Near makes their way towards his bed, and then they climb beneath the blankets carefully, pulling them over their head as well.
"Hi," Near says, very quietly, and it doesn't send Matt's a drill through Matt's head.
"Hi," Matt whispers back. And, "Thanks." He doesn't want to talk much, but Near knows he means thanks for coming here.
Matt doesn't like being alone. He hasn't for a long time.
Near's fingers are small and pale, cool against Matt's cheek. His bed isn't very big, so they're pressed close together—he can feel Near's warmth seeping through his clothes and it makes his heart stutter. Near touches their thumb beneath Matt's left eye, and they shimmy closer to press a kiss, feather light, to Matt's forehead.
"Okay?" Near asks, quiet. Matt knows they're just doing what Matt himself has done to them plenty of times before when they get stress-headaches, but. He can't speak. His heart is lodged in his throat, and he nods once, and Near smiles.
"I'll stay," Near says. Matt nods again, lips turned upwards, and Near presses closer, shifting their arm around Matt's midsection. Matt settles his hand on Near's bony hip.
It's warm and comfortable, if a bit hard to breathe beneath the layers of blankets. Near doesn't seem to mind.
They both fall asleep like this, and hours later Mello will come back to force Matt to consume some soup and find both of them, and will subsequently force himself between them despite the lack of space.
But, well, that's Mello for you.