Title: (B)Itch Fit

Summary: Mello gets a cat, knowing that a certain redhead is allergic. So, Matt gets even, and it becomes a battle of tolerance. Who will snap first? Sickly Matt or a very determined but angry Mello?

Disclaimer: I don't own DN or anything referenced.

Author's Note: Once again, no proofreading. Errors abound. Enjoy.

…

Chapter Two:

Mello's own steely gaze lingered on the goat disbelievingly before focusing solely on the redhead. "So, you have a goat named Orgasm… wearing a diaper… and you're withholding sex?"

Matt gave a curt nod, one hand digging into the course fur of his goat while the oppositional palm rested along the animal's face and he thumbed along its ear. "Such a nice goat, huh? I could play with it all day." He paused his hands and the goat roughly rammed its hardened skull towards the redhead, demanding attention.

"You think it's funny, but it's not," the blonde grumbled testily, turning away and reclaiming his cat. "You enjoy your Orgasm all by yourself; I'm going to take my pussy into my room, and you can't come in. Until your damn goat's gone. Yeah, fuck you. You'll get so bored and lonely. Trust me, you'll be begging me to sell your damn farm animal to a glue factory!"

At that, Matt's voice simply deadpanned: "Goats aren't used to make glue." Just then, the goat hopped up into Matt's lap and tucked its legs in. Large oval eyes drew close and the animal sniffed his own crimson locks before goat lips encased his ears, rubbing warm hairy rows of tissue around the cartilage of his lobe. Matt was instantly covered in goose bumps and he stifled a laugh at the ticking sensation. "I couldn't get bored of this," Matt said between fits of amusement, Orgasm attacking him in an odd display of affection. He pressed his own forehead against the bone-hard one of his goat and a smile pulled at his lips.

Mello huffed indignantly and stroked Durden at leisure. "Trust me, you'll get rid of your goat before I get rid of my cat. Even if I have to play dirty. I always get my way."

"Yeah, you usually do, but that's only because I'm usually helping. Now that we're opponents, things might not go so smoothly."

…

Matt's own misery had increased tenfold over the next few weeks. Granted, he had a lot of fun allowing his goat to chomp on the furniture and butt its head into almost every hard surface it could reach, his blonde companion had certainly paid dues, bringing in a large amount of cat furniture and three large adult cats, appropriately named: Stinky, Faygo, and Willie.

Stinky was obese and had an uncooperative bowel. Faygo was hyper and clawed at everything, from carpet fibers to curtains. Willie was constantly sporting an erection, whining and mewling and humping the redhead's plushie collection.

Matt's eyes watered and his throat itched; he coughed up phlegm and mentally noted the color before trying to chase Willie away from his collectables. "Damn cat! Stop raping Ichigo!" He swatted the furry creature, which then hissed at him and hid beneath his bed. He let out a croaking sound before shouting: "Melloooo, your Willie is raping my toys!"

To this, Mello distantly responded: "Go play with your Orgasm!"

"Clean your litter boxes!" the redhead goaded.

"Shut your damn cow up!"

"It's a goat; not a cow!"

Their arguing knew no bounds. Mello looked absolutely pissed as he stomped into Matt's room and dropped to the floor, reaching beneath the bed and grabbing his horny cat out from underneath.

Blowing his nose and discarding the tissue, Matt inspected Mello, smirking when he noticed the angry red claw marks that climbed up the once-flawless arms of the blonde. "Cats playing too rough?" he teased, covering his mouth to cough afterwards.

"Shut up and play with your filthy cow."

"It's a goat, Mello."

"Whatever," grumbled the blonde, carrying the mewling cat out of the room and into the living room, growling when he noticed little Durden hiding in the corner, afraid of the imposing goat that pranced around the room and jumped on and off the furniture.

When the cat in his grasp began to squirm and claw, an awful idea planted itself in the blonde's head; he acted upon it in an instant, literally tossing the mewling furball onto the goat and encouraging it with the words: "Go on, Willie. Get it. Get the Orgasm. Go on."

Unfortunately for him, Willie the cat didn't find the goat appealing; so, instead of attacking the livestock, he simply raced away from Orgasm and began to chase Faygo.

"Damn cat," murmured the blonde, pushing aside his irritation and trying to humanely stop Willie from attacking the energetic feline. When the animals managed to outrun him, he grabbed a glass of water from a stand and flung it towards them, getting them wet and instantly halting them in their tracks. Willie let off an angry growl and sunk his claws into Mello's leg while Faygo decided to hop up into the window and bat at the drapes.

Sighing, Mello decided that everything that had been going wrong was his redheaded roommate's fault. If Matt had just put up with Durden, then there'd be no goat or excess cats, and they could all live happily ever after, having sex whenever the fuck he pleased and petting his little bitty pussy when he had nothing better to do.

Thankfully, the clock ticked away and Mello found himself more eager to get to work than ever before.

Once there, he flipped the bird at his cohorts and dropped lazily onto the tacky sofa. "I'm early, I know," he said simply, stretching out and getting comfortable.

Rod, a superior member of the base, wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes at the blonde. "You smell like cat piss."

"I got a cat."

"Don't you have clean clothes?"

"Matt stopped doing my laundry."

"And you can't at least shower?"

"I got mad at Matt, so I stopped paying the bills; the water's shut off."

"So, he couldn't really do the laundry anyways?"

"No, we live near a Laundromat."

"…Mello, we appreciate you showing up, but…-" one lackey began cautiously, only to be silenced with the blast of a .45 as the blonde shifted, feeling his bones pop and moaning at the sensation." He received several awkward expressions twisted in his direction before he scowled and explained: "Matt's withholding sex as well."

At this, everyone nodded and grumbled in understanding.

Rod lit a cigar and took a seat across from the blonde. "I had a problem like that once, only it was with a woman. Do you know how I solved it?"

"You shot her?"

"Fuck no."

"You got someone else to shoot her?"

"Mello, she's still alive."

"But she's paralyzed and on life support?"

"No, she's fine and rearing our kids like a good little bitch. -And… I solved our problem with some marital counseling."

Hearing this suggestion, Mello responded by burying his head against the sofa cushions and kicking and screaming, like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

The rest of his day wasn't much better. Nothing was accomplished and he was positive his cohorts and boss were itching to shoot his sorry ass by the time he left.

Arriving home was a nightmare. Durden was once again hiding while Stinky, Faygo, and Willie perused the entirety of the house, running amok like wild animals and acting stir-crazy. Grabbing up little Durden, he headed to his room and shut himself in, desiring an escape from the hell he'd helped create. He plopped down on his bed and noticed the odd feel of the mattress against him; glancing down, he was greeted with the sight of yellow hollow reeds in abundance.

Straw.

Lots and lots of straw. Large bales of it spread across his bed and all over his floor.

Stamping his booted feet against the floor, he called loudly for his longtime friend: "Maaatt, get your cow-lovin' ass over here and clean up this mess!"

Matt arrived, a bumbling mess of blankets and hives. Orgasm was at his side, following him around like a loyal mutt. "M'yeah, Mells?" he ground out breathily, barely able to say the greeting before he swayed unhealthily and lost balance, catching himself on the wall.

"Why the fuck is all this straw in my room?"

Pushing himself off the wall and fighting to stay upright, Matt gave his answer. "Your cats keep coming into my room, so I figured… why can't my Orgasm visit your room? You never used to care when I had my orgasm in your room." The snaky remark was uttered with contempt.

Mello wanted to tear his own hair out; at this point, he was torn between physically attacking the redhead… and sending him to bed with a hefty dose of Nyquil and a chest full of Vicks vapor rub. "Matt, I'm not arguing with you. Go to bed."

"Can't. There's cat hair everywhere," stated Matt.

"And there's a goat in my room now. And straw too," Mello countered.

With a shaking breath, Matt tossed himself face-first onto Mello's straw-covered bed. "Mells, Imma sleep here." The moment he said that, the goat picked something up off the floor with its slender jowls and hopped upon the bed to lay beside its redheaded owner, happily proceeding to chew at whatever fabric rested in its mouth.

Mello narrowed his eyes but said not a word, and all he could think was: 'the cow is eating my underwear.'

…

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