Near liked wandering the house when he couldn't sleep. It was soothing, being able to go wherever he wanted with his guard down. It was 11pm. It was technically still his birthday. Even if he was caught – it wouldn't be the first time – he wasn't likely to get in trouble. He was in the kitchen, anyway. It wasn't like getting up for a glass of water was a crime.

He generally hated his birthday, and this year wasn't any exception. There hadn't been many of the others at home, at least, due to some festival in town. Near thought Mello must have gone; he hadn't seen him all day.

Roger had tried to persuade Near to join them all, but he pleaded off with a headache. Instead, he spent the day lying in the garden playing with a puzzle L had made him. He didn't like L much, simply because L was the reason Mello hated him, but he sent good presents.

Near had been picturing the puzzle in his head – he still hadn't solved it – when he heard it, someone coming in the back door. He froze, picturing burglars, praying Roger or someone would hear something and come and help. He willed himself to creep away, towards the stairs, when he heard swearing. Familiar swearing. He turned on the light and sure enough, Mello was standing there. He was lightly sheened in sweat and his hair was mussed. He looked a little drunk.

He shielded his eyes from the light and swore at Near. "Turn that off, you moron. You'll wake someone."

Near turned it off obediently, although Mello was the one more likely to wake the house, with the noise he had been making. He watched the older boy lock the door and put the key in his pocket. He wondered when he'd got that cut.

Mello pulled out a chair and dropped into it, sprawling out. "What are you doing, creeping around like a little ghost?"

"I couldn't sleep," he said truthfully. He looked on while Mello tipped his head back to the ceiling and groaned. "Should I get Matt?" he said uncertainly.

He snorted. "Matt's not home yet."

He didn't say anything else

"Stop staring at me," Mello said, without opening his eyes, and Near looked away hurriedly. "What time is it?"

"11.10."

"Still your birthday," he observed. "Many happy returns, sheep."

"Thank you," Near said, after getting over his surprise. He let the name slide. Mello had called him much worse. "Would you like some birthday cake?"

Mello opened his eyes hopefully. "Is it chocolate? Actually, I don't care. I need sugar."

Near took what was left from the fridge, which was nothing more than an extra large slice, and handed it to him.

"Have some," Mello told him.

"I'm OK."

"I couldn't possibly finish your birthday cake, sheep."

Near looked at him uncertainly, not sure if he was mocking him or not, but in the end got a knife and took the smaller half. It felt odd to eat something so sweet late at night.

"What'd you do today?" Mello asked him, through a mouthful of cake. He was apparently a friendly drunk.

"L sent me a new puzzle," Near told him. "I haven't finished it yet."

Mello chuckled. "That man outdoes himself every year." He swallowed the last mouthful of cake and tipped his head back again, closing his eyes.

He opened his eyes unexpectantly, startling Near, who had been staring at his throat. He took the cake packaging to the bin to hide his embarrassment, then took his time washing his hands. Mello was still watching him when he finished.

"You have a crush on me, sheep?"

He felt himself going red. He hoped it was too dark for Mello to see. He also hoped Mello would forget all of this by morning.

"I thought so," Mello said now quietly. He gave a low laugh. "I feel sorry for you, sheep. I'm a dick."

Near said nothing. He began to edge towards the door.

Mello caught hold of his wrist. "How old are you again?"

"I'm 13."

He swore again, and then he laughed. "Come here."

"Why?"

"Just come here."

Near didn't move. Eventually, Mello leaned forward dangerously and grabbed the front of Near's shirt with his free hand, dragging him between his knees. He tasted wonderful, of spirits and chocolate. His mouth was hot and he smelt faintly of cologne and leather.

"Jesus," he said, almost to himself, letting go of Near. "What am I doing? I'm a cradle snatcher." He pushed Near away. Then he looked at Near's face and burst out laughing. "Your face. Sorry, sheep, I'm drunk. Hurry up and grow up, yeah? Maybe for your next birthday."

He hauled himself out of the chair, still laughing, and out the door, leaving Near standing there.

Near stood there staring at the empty chair, feeling his heart in his ears. Then he adjusted the chair so that it matched the others under the table. His heart rate hadn't eased at all. He felt like the whole house had been watching. Then he, too, went to bed.

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