Holy leather pants! An update! A'ight, so this would've been up yesterday... But a parental figure cut off my internet D: Granted, I should've gotten off about an hour previously... But still! So yeah, here's a brand new chapter! I'm not sure about the titling for this one, so if you know an epic song with a beautiful techno beat that sounds like it might work... Tell me! Please! I'm the only person I know with a techno obsession, so it's impossible! Um.. I'm done ranting now.

Disclaimers - I don't own Mello's trousers. Or Matt. But I can control the two of them in my stories. Other than my plots and shizzle, I own nothing!

Warnings - Implied... smexings? Just to say, it is implied, but not mentioned. Why? Because I'm too shy to write it =.=' Prod me with an tips you want about smexings, because otherwise I might die xD Or I might do the scene in a roleplay, and then edit it... Hmm... Anyway. Yeah. Implied dream-sex, Matty swearing, and possibly a jumpy plot D:

Enjoy!


The flimsy tin can crumpled in my fist relatively easily, before I chucked it straight into the bin, pulling my shirt over my head and I stormed upstairs to take my damn shower.

I knew I was going to keep taking those freaking 'lesson' things, but I didn't know why... Or my subconscious (where I seem to have put this information) refuses to tell me. One or the other, and to be honest, I don't care. Now I have to go and learn to become a pole dancer – with another human being as my goddamn pole – every other bloody day.

Note to self; kill Light. A lot. And soon.

As these thoughts were running crazily around my unsuspecting head, I was flicking on the water in the shower and peeling the clothes I now noticed were doused liberally in sweat – mine, I hoped – off my body to dump them in a pile on the floor.

It took me three seconds into my shower to realize I hadn't locked the door, and I immediately had to do just that.

I hit the slippery wall weakly, scowling angrily. I never signed up for this! I was sweating like a maniac, and I'm going to be forced to dance with a total pedophile for the foreseeable future. Or until Light thinks I've done my time, aka NEVER! Damn damn damn damn damn.

I had to give up mentally moaning at myself, because I realized it might help if I actually clean myself off a little, even if it is just so that I feel less tired and give my limbs some relaxation. I swear, I've never felt that tired in my life. Ever.

It wasn't until Light started yelling through the door to ask if I'd drowned that I realized that I must've been in there for ages. Looking at my hands, I noticed that I was vaguely starting to resemble a very pale sultana. Oh great.

I turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around my waist, and a smaller one to try and rub my hair dry with. Ignoring my lovely brother's screeching, I gathered up my clothes at a leisurely pace, dropping them into the laundry basket as I left the small, tiled room, before heading to the theoretical safety of my room.

I slumped back onto my bed, figuring I'd just wait until I was dry before redressing and attending my date with LoZ, and ending up thinking quite hard.

Mello was a pretty good dancer, I'd give him that. He could easily be making way more money, so why bother with the whole 'teaching a bunch of kids I hate' thing? In my head, that made little to no sense whatsoever. I mean, seriously idiotic.

Maybe he wanted the control? Being able to yell at us with gay abandon (it's just a phrase, I'm not making assumptions) and then dance until everyone else was dead on their feet? Maybe he was a pervert... I could actually feel my eyes doing that suspicious thing cartoon characters do, where they frown and look from side to side. Quite dramatic, really... Heh.

I gave up waiting to air dry within minutes, mainly because I can't be assed with thinking about Mello more than is necessary – and that includes him dancing, damnit – and also because I have a horribly short attention span that can only ever be caught by amazing video games. Namely Legend of Zelda, Mario, Pokemon and Tetris. I love that game so much... Damn, it's too bad I'm too lazy to fire up my laptop and go play it.

I always play it online. Dunno why. It's the same with Pacman too. Light reckons it's because I'm retarded. I didn't even bother pointing out to him that I'm way smarter than he is. After all, he wouldn't believe it; I work about half an hour per week... And that's when I'm actually at school.

Suprisingly, I never actually skive, I just... Don't work. Much, anyway. It's all so easy I could do it in my sleep... Apart from maybe Maths, but who gives a toss about that? Oh wait... Lighty-boy does. Bastard.

Sighing, I grab the first pair of jeans I saw – the same goes for my stripes – and pulled my goggles onto my head to rave with my wet hair. Maybe not rave. Sit. Yeah.

After, I wandered downstairs to find out whether or not the Wii was on. I can never remember if I've turned it off or not, but apparently I did , because there wasn't even the little red 'standby' light on.

Searching for the right plug socket behind the TV, I flicked random switches until I found the right one, grinning happily to myself as I started up the whole thing – TV, Wii, all that lot.

I got pretty involved in my game, as always, before something struck me as I watched a cut scene of Link. Oh no...

Oh my fuck. Link looks like an elfish, green clad Mello.

My favorite game character of all time bears resemblance to the most perverted teacher in the history of perverted teachers! Holy crap... I'm never going to be able to look at that guy in the same way.

They have the same slanted, determined blue eyes, the same pointed face, the same shade of blond hair, the same killer attitude... Hang on a moment. How in the fuck do I remember that damn guy's fucking face perfectly?! That's not normal! Am I going mental or something? Why is he so goddamn stuck in my head?!

Oh jeez, I need to stop asking myself so many freaking questions. Seriously, I'm probably thinking into this too much. I. Don't Care.

I only wanted to play my damn video games and relax. And he still manages to find his bloody way into my head. Why can't I just think about something else already?

After a little longer, I give up, saving my game and turning off the console, before stamping my way into the kitchen to find some food. There's a bunch of chopped up carrots, so I assumed that Light was making himself some puke, and went to grab myself a small pack of Japanese cookies, and another can of Red Bull from the fridge, and then hibernating to my room so as to avoid the abomination that's named itself my brother.

I live with Light. My parents went off gallivanting to hell-knows-where, and left my obviously perfect eighteen year old brother to look after me. I swear, they must be damn blind to not notice what a jackass he can be. He constantly calls me gay, which is sort of unfair since I've never actually been properly attracted to anyone. I assume I'm bi for the convenience. Everyone I've ever met is either a total jackass to start off with, or a total jackass once I get to know them. I don't really want to be told what I am and aren't, especially by someone with a whole stack of boyfriends and girlfriends. And I mean currently, at the same time, not separately and in the past. He's such a whore, I swear.

I'm just annoying myself now. If Mello wasn't stuck in my head, I wouldn't be trying to distract myself with internally bitching about my bloody brother. But no. That would be convenient, wouldn't it? Gah. I hate it when people do that. It's just plain rude to lodge yourself in someone else's brain, especially when I'm almost eighty-seven percent certain that he's not bothering himself with thoughts about my skinny little ass.

And by that I just mean me in general, not specifically my ass. I swear.

Without even noticing it I managed to eat my way through half of twelve biscuits – they are kind of healthy, at least – and almost finish my can. Well damn. That's all I need. Urgh, I have to go to school tomorrow. Alright, so I did go today, but Tuesdays are the worst. It's when you know that you're stuck in the middle, but less so than Wednesday, so it's much harsher... I wish it would snow. That would be amazing. Maybe I should go to sleep. Then I can wake up at midnight and play loud music to piss of Light.

Sounds like a plan.

Of course, getting to sleep while your brain is ticking away at one hundred miles per hour is more than a tiny bit difficult. I had to keep telling myself to stop thinking and shut down. It's a lot harder than you'd think, to be honest. I guess I managed it though, because next thing I knew, I was in a dream version of the dance studio I'd been in earlier. I bet this is Mello messing with my subconscious again... Git.

Oh, he's there too. It looks like the scene from when I first walked in; he's dancing in clothes that look to tight and... dare I say it, sexy. Damnit. But I'm moving towards him. Dream-Matt puts his arms around the figure, while I'm wishing I could wake up and make that mental image go away, because Dream-Mello is still dancing. Well that's awkward.

It's weird, how you watch yourself in dreams like you're a whole different entity. Or maybe I'm the only one that sees dreams in third person. Eh, whatever. The point is, Dream-Matt is a lot more forward – wait, that implies I like him! Oh crud – than I would ever be. Tosser.

Oh. We appear to be kissing. Well shit. Now, this pisses me off, because I can sort of feel it, in that dream-state sort of way, which is weird. Partially because I don't know the feeling in reality, and this irritates me to no end. Evil person.

To be honest, I feel like a total pervert, even if it is my own dream. Well, partly because it's happening in my head. My imagination – sick, twisted imagination – is fueling all of this shit. Maybe I should wake up.

Dream-Mello has his hands on Dream-Matt's ass. This is starting to look like a private Mello-style dance lesson. Because he's still moving in that way. Oh dear crap. This is just wrong. And I'm going to wake up with other issues!

It's odd, how my thought processes continue despite my obvious lack of consciousness. I suppose I'm only half sleeping. You have to be half sleeping to be able to know what dream you're having, because otherwise you're just completely shut down, and there's no way in hell you can remember what was going on. Yeah, I'm so smart about this stuff.

Urgh, I wish the Dream-people would just remove themselves from my head and go feel each other up in some other place. Wait.

Is my head telling me something here? The reason he's stuck in my head? No way. No fucking way in hell. Because that guy is just... Oh dear god, now my thoughts are going haywire too. Why won't everything just bloody leave me alone?! I'm tired of these so-called dance lessons. I've only been to one, and I dunno how everyone puts up with his bitching.

Actually that's obvious; they don't get the same attention that I get. I don't see him getting himself all up in other people's space, or dancing like that with them. I'm special. Woop. Sarcasm intended.

Seriously, this is stupid. My dream's getting more and more vivid, and the scene keeps changing. We were in the dance place, and now we're in some tightly packed apartment, but the same music was playing, and the same things were happening.

Wait, that's a lie. Our dream-shirts are missing in action now. He'd better not have ditched my stripes in the studio place! Wait... it's a dream, it doesn't actually matter at all. Of course. But it does! Because there's me. And Mello. And now there's a motherfucking bed as well. We've moved into some form of bedroom, and it looks just as cramped as the room before.

I need to wake up. Seriously. I'm a lot less third person and a lot more first person than I was two scene changes ago. Bloody hell, this is awkward. I'm dreaming about getting laid by my fucking dance teacher for fucks sake! How is this a good thing in any way, shape, or form?! And now dance lessons are just going to be awkward, because I have all these images imprinted in my damned photographic memory. Not that it wasn't awkward before, but still!

Shit shit shit! Stop this! Fucking wake me up! Isn't that how your brain works? When you don't want to see something (like your death in a dream, you always wake up before you die) you wake up! Why am I not bloody waking up already?! I do not want to see, hear or feel any of this, even if it is all dulled by the blanket of Dream-World shit or whatever. Seriously, this is not something I need in my head.

I guess it's a little to late to say that, though... Goddamnit, why does this have to happen? Why now? Why me?! I mean, sure, he's been dancing with me like... Well, I'm not gonna attempt comparisons. But it's understandable, right? Right. I want to wake up, but I don't seem to be able to.

This is stupid... I'm usually such a light sleeper. I can wake myself up at the slightest thing, and I'm practically an insomniac with the useless amount of time I actually spend not sleeping. But now it's like I'm watching a train-wreck; I can't look away or find any way of avoiding the whole situation that's unfolding right in front of me.

It's so creepy, feeling dream-like hands on me, the sensation entirely in my head. My mind was supplying all of this. And... It's weird. My brain is doing this to me? Well fuck.

Why?

Why?!

...Why...?


Question time again! Did you like it? Por que? Es muy interestante? Right, I'll stop Spanishing. Honest. *halo hovers over head* But please, reviews will make me glomp you! And if it's long and stuff, I'll almost definately reply, just because you took the time!

Also! Thanks to the following people for reviews!

Shadow Dancer666
IndifferenceToSociety
ShyClown
PrincessPika

Virtual glomps to all of you 3 *glomp* See? Right there. Yeah. Thanks, especially for the constructiveness! Um.. I'll go away now. And get thinking up the next chapter, taking all my tip-majigs into account now 3 Buhbye!