Tossing and turning, the blonde felt his blood simmering beneath his skin. He threw a pillow over his head, clawing at the fabric as he gripped it tightly. The ringing of an alarm clock echoed into his eardrums, ultimately waking the blue eyed beauty from his sleep. Abruptly sitting up, Mello decided that enough was enough, and if he heard that same ringing one more god forsaken time, he'd shove the clock down that guy's throat. Mello tugged on a pair of black jeans that he may or may not have worn already, as well as a simple black shirt, with his signature boots. A scowl was etched across his features, seeming to accentuate the fleshy pink burn scars running down the left side blonde's face, neck, and what was exposed of the left side of his chest.
Walking down the hall on the floor below his, Mello counted the numbers on the apartment doors until he approached the one that was directly under his; Mello was room number 104, and the downstairs neighbor was number 98. Making a fist, the blonde male knocked obnoxiously loudly on the door, being in the state of mind of socking one to this asshole. Shuffling was heard on the other side of the door, before it opened. A tall, slender young male has answered the door, his white dress shirt unbuttoned and untucked from a pair of ugly and uncomfortable looking khaki pants. His shoes and socks weren't on either. Mello glanced up at the taller male, noticing how the Asian's hair was combed in perfect place, cupping his sculpted face perfectly. Every nerve inside of him wanted to beat the perfect looks right off of this pretty boy's face.
Drawing his fist back, Mello let it swing and collide with the side of the boy's face before he could even question who Mello was, and what he wanted. The older teen stumbled back into his apartment from the shockingly hard blow that the smaller male delivered. One thing was for certain; the Russian could sure pack a punch. The auburn haired man gripped his jaw in agony, sending shocked and pained expression toward the blonde.
Surprisingly enough however, the two seemed to tire themselves out, what with all of their fist fighting. By the time they realized that it was futile to fight, Mello had a black eye, and some bruises forming on his arms and knuckles. The older male however, had a busted lip, an ominous bruise forming on his jaw, and many, many sore areas in his abdominal area. He felt like a pinata.
They were a panting, groaning mess (no, not that way.) The auburn haired Asian leaned against the doorframe, his head bowed as his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. Mello was leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes shut, lips parted as soft pants passed them.
"What the hell did you even come here for?" came a calm, low voice. Mello lifted his head from the wall, cerulean eyes opening.
"I got tired of hearing your damn alarm clock going off at the same fucking time every morning." Mello's deep voice seemed to reverberate against the walls, sending soft chills up the taller man's spine. Light Yagami slowly lifted his head to look the blonde in the eyes.
"I don't own an alarm clock.." he trailed off, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"Well if that wasn't your alarm clock.. Then who's was it?.." Mello trailed off, slowly lifting himself from his place on the wall.
Light and Mello both shared a look of confusion, before they both groaned in disdain.
"I'm sorry-" they both blurted out in unison, a faint rosiness falling upon both of their cheeks.
Embarrassment gnawed at both of them, knowing that this shouldn't have been the way that they both met. Light stepped forward, gently resting a hand on Mello's arm, tugging him inside.
"You're bleeding," he stated, looking down at Mello's arms, then up to his eyes.
"Mello stared back, head nodding slowly, "let me take care of it," he offered, successfully pulling Mello into his apartment.
"By the way, my name's Light Yagami."
"Mello."
Light didn't question the odd name, tugging the blonde down the hall to his bathroom, motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He pulled out a first-aid kit, and got to work on doctoring up the blue-eyed beauty.
Once finished, Mello stood up, wordlessly pushing Light back down in his place, and invaded his personal space by plopping his ass square on Light's lap, facing him. Light was dumbstruck by the motion, his body tensing. Mello scowled, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
"You don't have to sit like you have a stick up your ass; I'm just returning the favor," Mello muttered, sanitizing the still bleeding lip that Light sported. He placed some antibiotic cream on it, gently rubbing it on with his middle finger. The scent of strong cologne and a personal musk that Mello carried made Light's cheeks flare crimson. Either that, or the fact that a beautiful blonde male was sitting on his lap, inches from his face. Probably both.
When Mello finished, he simply stared down at his handy work, searching for anymore cuts or wounds that he missed. He missed none.
"Are you alright now?" Mello asked, placing his thumb and index finger on the Asian's chin, tilting his face up toward his own. Light nodded stiffly, swallowing a rather large lump in his throat.
"But, are you okay?" Light asked, hoping he didn't hurt the man too badly. Mello scoffed in response, climbing off of Light's lap.
"I'm not a delicate flower, pretty boy. I can take a hit."
Light scoffed at the response, a small smile forming on his lips. Mello reflected the smile.