Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, otherwise it would probably be like this chapter through out the entire manga,

A/N: Please excuse me for the complete and unabashed smut that occurs in this chapter.

I don't know what the look was on his face when he stepped up onto the landing; I'd never seen it on him before. It was fear, remorse, panic, hatred and finally calm. I don't know of anytime where I had seen any of those but one cross Mello's face, and it seemed to happen quite a lot when Near was around.

"Matt," he said. His voice was barely a whisper, but I could hear it clear enough. He kept talking, but it fell upon my ears, and I never really listened. I could barely even register what had happened between us that day, let alone what he was about to say to me. Although, maybe if I listened it would take my mind off of everything.

I heard the clatter of the gun dropping out of his hand, onto the carpet covered concrete. He moved over to my side, kneeling so that his face was level with mine. I still avoided eye contact. I felt like a child who needed to be scolded yet was still afraid of the disappointment.

"Why do we fight so much, Matty? Why does everything we say turn into an argument?" his voice in my ear sounded just as desperate and lost as I felt, but Mello wasn't going to keep it that way for long. He used it like he used his gun nowadays, as a weapon. He would pull it out when he needed something, and as soon as his mission was completed, he would store it away for use the next time.

"Why can't you accept that you don't have to be first at everything, all of the time? Why don't you sit down and try to interact with me, instead of simply using me like you use your whores, as an outlet. Why won't you drop this fucking case? It's going to end up killing you, and, indirectly, me. Why can't we just get the fuck out of here and live like normal people do? I don't know Mels, why can't we stop fighting?"

"Matt-"

"And stop saying my name. You and I both know who I am, so just drop that bullshit. Talk to me, say what you want to say; don't put it off by adding bullshit words in front of it. Just... talk... Just talk to me."

"I need you, I need everything you can offer me. I don't know why we fight, all I know is that-don't cut me off again, I swear to God, Matt, don't fucking cut me off-all I know is that I can't drop this case. I can't let L down; all he ever wanted from me was to be able to make him proud, and I'd die before I fail him. I swear I would, Matt, and I know you don't feel the same way; you never did. You hated Wammy's, you hated the idea of it. You were always too slothful to even attempt to appease Roger or anyone else. Everyone else knew that you could have surpassed me; could have surpassed that fucking little albino prat if you had felt the urge to learn anything. You could have left us all in he dust, but you never tried. Why don't you ever try, Matt? W-why don't you ever fucking try? And as for me repeatedly dictating your name, I love the way it rolls from my mouth, ending in its staccato perfection. Matt... Matt, Matt, Matt. It's the best thing that I've ever been allowed to say; the best thing I've ever had-you."

"How did that cretin know who I was?"

"I don't fucking know. I barely even knew who he was- one of the lowest fuckers we have, even that fucker Jose barely acknowledges his existence. I don't know how he knew you, love, all I know is that neither of us are ever going to have to worry from any trouble out him again."

"Mels, there have to be others who know who I am. They can't find out. No one can know me; that might just lead Kira right to me, and, in turn, to you. Not to mention, I have no fucking clue what you've been planning, and Kira would expect me to know. I should know. If anyone should know about what you're doing, it should be me."

"Let's just go inside now," he said to me, looking up at me with those fucking eyes that pierced through me like glass. All resolve I had had to make him do what I wanted was gone; not that I should have really been asking for anything from him after he'd saved my dumb ass. Not to mention that we were arguing about this case outside of our apartment. Fuck. Why is it that I just becoming even more fucking stupid as the day went on? How the hell does that happen?

The apartment was trashed. Completely and absolutely demolished. Chairs were strewn across the floor and splinters of wood from the kitchen table were scattered around on the linoleum near the base of the buckled form that was once furniture. Mello walked past me, seemingly ignoring the disaster area and heading to the back where our room was.

"I'm assuming you know what happened, then," I muttered under my breath, half hoping he'd catch it, but not really wanting an explanation. I didn't get one; he'd already disappeared into the bedroom. I followed his trail back into that tiny cramped room. He was sitting on the bed, his hands laced through his silky hair with his face aimed towards the ground.

"Mello?" I questioned, but I knew I wasn't going to get an answer. I sat down on the bed next to him and wrapped my arms around his quivering frame. I rested my head on his shoulder, indulging myself with the scent of him, his leather, the cheap shampoo we shared, gasoline, chocolate, gunpowder, dust, deodorant, everything that juxtaposed to give my Mello a scent that had imprinted itself in my memory.

"We make for a good teenage angst movie." He had stopped shaking, and I felt his lips press against my hair for a fleeting second before he moved away. I looked up at his perfect face, his scorching blue eyes that burned through to my soul.

"So..." I began, not really sure whether I wanted to push the subject of why almost every room in our apartment was in a state of wreckage. "What happened to the anger management classes Roger made you take?"

"Fuck off, I hated those shit classes, and I still swear that shrink smoked more pot than you do cigs," he beamed at me, right before he pushed me down on the bed and kissed me.

Mello threw one of his legs over me, straddling my waist as he doubled his assault on my mouth. Not that I was complaining, I met his attack with complete enthusiasm as the muscles in our combined mouths wrestled for dominance of the kiss. He ground his pelvis into mine, eliciting an unwilling moan that was lost in our passion. He began nibbling on my lower lip, and I felt his hands start to roam my torso, pushing up the baggy long-sleeved t-shirt that I was wearing.

"Matt, I love you," he practically moaned into my ear before moving down to remove the troublesome material that obstructed Mello from his goal: me. The shirt was over my head and discarded haphazardly on the floor before I could even blink an eye, but it was my turn to take the lead. I grabbed Mello's foot, and dragged him closer to me before I moved up his leg and started to untie the laces. The bulge in his tight leather pants only seemed to grow larger as I became ever closer to be able to remove the pants that I adored seeing my Mello in. I disentangled the last knot int the laces with triumph before peeling the second skin off of his body, his half erection springing free from the tight confines of those smooth black pants. I looked up at his face before lowering mine closer to his manhood. He had a glazed, lust filled look in his eyes, and the mesh shirt and leather vest he'd been wearing when he came home from the base was nowhere in sight.

I opened my mouth, and moved his length around the edge of my mouth, drawing out an impatient moan from my lover's lips.

"Stop fucking teasing me, Mattie, just, God." he arched his back as I began swirling my tongue around the head of his dick, making his once semi-hard mast completely stiff. His chest moved up and down rapidly, moving with every breath and low moan he uttered as I started sucking and licking every inch of his throbbing manhood. I felt his fingers intertwine themselves in my hair, running themselves along the outline of my scalp, and he let out another moan as his back arched up off of the bed.

I moved my face away from him, sliding up the bed and I lay down next to him, yanking my jeans off as my torso made contact with the smooth sheets, warmed from where Mello's passion had warmed them. I pulled him closer to me again, waging war against his mouth as I ground my pelvis up against his. Loud moans began to fill the room as our hardened organs slid together. Mello's hand had found its way between our legs and was now aiding the feeling, egging on the noises that we were emitting.

"Fuck, M-Mattie, where's the- the lube? Fuck. I need you, Mattie, please."

"Shh, hold on. Give me just a minute; this feels so good."

I didn't want this to stop, not now, not ever. Especially not when I had him begging, but I supposed that I could only have him so close to the edge for a limited time. I leaned down to kiss him again as I reached towards the tiny little nightstand. I opened the drawer and pulled out a small container of Vaseline.

I dipped my fingers into the greasy mixture, coating my fingers in it before proceeding towards Mello's opening. I pushed my lubricated finger into his tight opening, eliciting a moan from my blonde lover as his tight ring gripped my digits. I began to slowly move in and out of his tight canal, making him buck and groan in complete and utter bliss. I added a second finger, and began to make scissoring motions inside of him, stretching out the dark tunnel to prepare him for even more.

I couldn't keep up this tortuous delay any longer. I remove my fingers from Mello's body and placed the head of my dick at his entrance. Slowly, I began to guide myself into his writhing body as I heard his voice shape my alias, over and over again. My body seemed to start moving on its own, completely free of my control. I pounded into my best friend, my lover, my Mello, and the sounds of our lovemaking filled the apartment. He moved his hand down to stroke himself and the sight of his desperation made me crazy. I couldn't hold out for much longer, and, as I exploded inside of him, I felt his hot, molten love splash against my chest.

"Mail, oh motherfucking God, Mail. Mail, Mail, Mail." He leaned up and kissed me again, his mussed blonde hair forming a curtain around our panting faces. I pulled him down back onto the bed again, and wrapped him in my arms.

"When did you decide that you wanted to use my real name?" I said, a small smile playing on my lips.

"I'm not sure, probably after you screamed mine at the top of your lungs like a thirteen year old girl." He cuddled his face into my chest, making me ache to hold him even tighter to me.

A small buzzing sound emitted from the far corner of the room. Mello looked up and removed himself from the bed, striding quickly over to the pants that I had tossed across the room earlier. He was beautiful, even when the frown lines crossed his face and he scowled at nothing in particular.

"I have to go, love." He looked back at me, and his eyes, which moments ago had been so full of love and emotion, were completely flat, like a pond frozen over in the dead of winter. This was not happening again. I didn't want to show it though. I wasn't some lovesick teenage bitch, and I wasn't going to let anyone affect me like this, not even Mels. Especially not Mels. I watched him pull his pants back on, lacing up the front as he searched around the room for the other remains of his scattered outfit.

"What did they do wrong his time?" I asked him, wary of the answer I might get.

"The President is in captivity, I have to move as quickly as possible to avoid getting fucked over by the FBI. Fucking pricks."

"Wait. You have the President, as in the president of the U.S of fucking A. captive? You kidnapped the President?"

"Yeah. I needed the attention of the NPA. It worked."

"Remind me that I never want to really know what you are doing again."

"I'll do that, but now I have to go before one of those incompetent cretins does something to fuck the operation up."

"I love you," I called out, but he was either out of ear shot or chose to ignore me because I didn't receive an answer. And I wouldn't receive an answer from him for another two weeks. A day or so after he left, a news report caught my eye as I was flipping back to the HDMI output. It was announcing the death of the President. Either things had gone perfectly or had completely fucked up for Mello. I had no way of knowing; the only phone of his that I had the number to was the one laying on the dresser in the corner. I stayed inside all the time, spending my time on missions sent to me by other grey hats and playing video games. I worked on setting up the locations for the dynamite, even though I still wasn't quite sure whether He needed them still or not, and when I was finished, I emailed them to one of his accounts that he checked at least once an hour. I wasn't surprised that there wasn't a reply to that either. I beat each of my video games several times; even though I wasn't really able to get into them like normal. I felt like a ghost, like an outer shell of the Matt who used to exist back when Mello was real, too.

The call came around fifteen, and as soon as I saw the number, I knew who it was. I picked up the phone in the middle of the third ring, not wanting to let him know how much I wished he was back here again. When I answered it, there was no reply, just a small cracking noise, followed by a series of short gasps. I held it up to my ear as I grabbed the car keys and strapped my goggles to my face, suctioning them to my face and puling the strap over my greasy, unwashed hair. I put the keys in the ignition of my Camaro before I even knew where to go.

"Ma..tt... help..sorry...fuck...it hurts..Matt..."

"Mels, where are you? "

"Alley... behind..H.Q. Matt...please...my face...fuck...Matt."

"It's okay, I'm almost there. Stay awake with me, okay? Just stay on the phone."

"Watch..pops.."

Fuck. The police were the last thing I needed, no, The last thing Mello needed. What had he done? I pulled up through the back alley, with no sign of my Mello in sight. The side mirrors in my car barely fit between the tight walls of the small backstreet. Right when I pulled past a neglected green door, I caught a flash of blonde hair. Mello was laying against the wall; his hair matted to the right side of his face. I backed up out of the alley, knowing that there was no physical way for me to be able to get in into the car safely. I parked it and ran back to Mello, noticing the full extent of the damage for the first time. The entire right side of his body was burnt, the leather melted to his skin in some places and completely burned off in others. The acrid smell of charred flesh was heavy, and the noises that he was making were unintelligible.

"Mello, shh. It's okay, I'm here now, I'm going to make everything alright. I'll make the pain go away, but we need to get away from here." We were only a few hundred feet away from where Mello hid away with his men, and by now I was certain that the dynamite had been put into use. The place was crawling with cops, and soon enough, Near would get here and that was another shitload of issues I didn't need to be in the middle of. I picked Mello up gingerly, trying my best to support him and avoid his injured side all at the same time and carried to the car, setting him gently in the back, and securing him with the safety restraints and a spare blanket or two that had formed a habit of keeping in there back when we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.

I carried him all the way up the stairs when we reached the apartment, ignoring my weedy, protesting body. I cut strips out of t-shirt that I had never worn before, not having time to run to the convenience store down the street with the old lady who thought I was the greatest. In less than half of an hour, with the help of the Internet, I had most of the few remaining scraps of fabric from his body and cleaned it with an alcoholic based liquid, inwardly hating myself more and more every time he winced or whimpered in pain. By the time the sun had gone down, every single part of his body that had been damaged was cleaned and wrapped. I set out all of the narcotics that had been acquired by Mello and me, making sure to keep them within reach in case he woke up and was able to take them.

By he time morning came around, I had gone down to the corner and purchased as many medical supplies as I could find, and began preparing to redress his burns. I kept this routine up for a week, watching him slip in and out of consciousness and keeping a very close eye on his injuries to check for any signs of infection. I must have gotten lucky; none ever developed. When he woke up, he wouldn't look at me, and I could barely get him to drink even a sip of chocolate milk, let alone water. I practically gave up smoking for those days, I didn't want a cigarette badly enough to leave his side. I didn't want anything bad enough to leave his side.

He was literally up and around in a little under a month, and when he started talking again, I thought that nothing in the world would be able to make me happier. I was wrong. The morning I woke up in my bed, with him sitting next to me, with his blonde hair pulled back up into a messy ponytail, that was the day I knew I had my Mello back. My Mello who grinned at me, despite the obvious pain it caused him, and told me that nothing was ever going to take us from each other again. My Mello who was already speeding ahead again, trying to beat out the competition before they even knew about he race. That was the day when he stopped caring about the scars that were never going away, and that was the day that he promised to quit this ideal of being 'L'. That was the day I knew everything was going to work itself out for us because the universe had to give us a good card every once in a while.

2nd A/N Okay, so I probably won't ever say this again, but I'd really like feedback on this one... first real lemons are... nerve wracking. So I'd REALLY like feed back on what you thought about it.