A/N: I'm back with another quick upload! Forget writer's block; I've got writer's diarrhea. As I was told by 494dwangel, I had anonymous reviews disabled. Idiot move on my part. I thought I had enabled them, but I didn't! Anywho, it should be fixed now. :)
Almost forgot again: I do not own Death Note or any real life items and/or people I may or may not have mentioned so far.
X
Matt stared at the bookshelf full of miscellaneous junk, knick knacks, and actual books. He slid one out, flipped through it, and put it back. Again and again, he examined the contents of the shelf, each time accentuating each snap of the book shutting with a sigh.
"Can you stop that?" Mello asked, annoyed. He sat up on his bunk bed, trying to read Great Expectations, but not finding much success with the rhythmic interruptions.
"No, sorry. I think I might just die of boredom."
"Well if it makes you shut up, go for it."
"Hey, if I die first, you're gonna miss me," Matt said indignantly, tossing a koosh ball at the blond.
He caught it with one hand and examined it. "I still can't believe this thing hasn't popped yet." It bounced off Matt's forehead and onto the ground, leaving a stunned look on the redhead's face.
"Mels, can I pleeeeaase have my PS2 back? I'm dyin' here." Matt whined and a slight New York accent leeched its way into his voice.
"Nope."
Barely a beat went by before Finch's voice shouted from outside the door as he walked by, "Chuck Testa!"
Matt stuck his head out the door and yelled after him, drawing out the word, "Raaaage!"
As the scrawny kid walked away, he turned and walked backwards for a moment. "You mad, bro?"
"Nope, you?"
The redhead withdrew into the room. Mello looked at him. "You're so immature. You know that, right?"
"There is nothing immature about the internet, thank you very much."
"Okay, then go make me a sandwich."
"Aha, that's what women are for."
"I wonder what Linda would think of that?" Matt shut up. "I mean, you are my bitch now, right?"
Matt picked up the koosh ball and replaced it on the bookshelf. "About that. Does that whole thing last night make us, you know, a thing?"
"Well, if all I really want to do whenever I see you is snog your brains out, then I guess. A secret 'thing' but a 'thing' nonetheless," Mello made air quotes around "thing."
"Wait, whenever you see me? So, does that include right now?" The gamer pointed to the ground.
Mello closed his book and tossed his head to the side, considering. "I wouldn't exactly complain." A smirk poked at the corner of his mouth. Leaning a hand against the edge of the top bunk, he swung himself downward and on the floor.
Matt's heart didn't even have time to skip a beat before Mello's lips were on his, hands cupping his face. The slightly shorter redhead tilted his chin up at the blond. It's so right, was the only thought going through Matt's mind.
With a loud smack, Mello pulled back. Matt sighed dreamily. "That'll never get old."
"Damn, you're adorable."
"Is that why you like me so much?"
Mello grinned and rolled his eyes. "Part of it." He went to sit down in the blue recliner below their window.
"And the other part is…?" Matt prompted, hopping up on the nightstand beside him.
The blond tilted his head as if he were thinking. His hair swung with the angle of his head, and Matt could scarcely hold in a swoon. It's—so—pretty! He snapped back to attention when Mello said, "Well, you're third ranking here without even trying, so you've gotta be smart. You can hack through the CIA with barely a hitch. Hm," he thought for a minute before rattling off quickly, "You're funny; you're just a bit shorter than me; you can always manage to make me grin whenever I want to pound that little sheep into the ground; you can make some of the most insane things out of duct tape—" Matt beamed and played with his duct tape bracelet, "—even though you're a ginger, you're not an asshole; you don't watch any of those idiotic TV shows like Finch, and you can down an Arnold Palmer in six seconds, which is admittedly impressive." He took a breath.
That warm fuzzy feeling flooded Matt's stomach. "Heehee," He chuckled to himself before replying with the voice of a teenage girl staring at pictures of hot guys—or reading yaoi, you get the point—"I like Arnold Palmers."
"Y tú?"
"Huh?"
"Come on, Matt, you've been in Spanish classes for four years now. And you? What do you find even remotely admirable in me?" He turned sideways in the chair to face him and pointed to himself.
"Oh, oh. Um." The gamer thought for a moment and played with the strap of his goggles. "Well, your hair's really fluffy. It's just—gah, I can't stand it!" He reached out and ran a hand through Mello's hair before he pulled away. He cleared his throat, "Anyway. I like the fact that you show emotion. Near's more than a little creepy because he doesn't. I like being able to calm you down like that; your little jabs at my ginger-ness don't affect me in the least; it's pretty fun to have those light-hearted arguments with you—I really can't believe how soft your hair is—I like making people smile, and I'm just gonna put this out there: you're smile's just plain hot. Even Linda thinks so." Greaaaat, Mello thought. "And I like the actually kind of intellectual and deep-ish conversations we can have, particularly at night. Though sometimes I'm not quite sure if you're awake or not…" He flashed a bright smile and wrung his hands together.
Mello hummed. He tried not to grin but gave in and showed Matt a prime example of his smile that is "just plain hot." Matt giggled to himself in his head. "I do remember some of those conversations. If they really happen that often, then yep, I was asleep—wait, I talk in my sleep?" He asked abruptly.
"Uh, yeah. I thought you would have known that by now." Matt looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Well I can't exactly consciously listen to myself while I sleep. What have I said?" The blond looked at the redhead critically.
Matt seemed to shrink under his gaze. "Oh, nothing. Just things that we'd talk about when you're actually awake. Nothing embarrassing, I swear."
"You'd better."
"I do, I do." He paused, staring at the blond for a moment. "Can I touch your hair again?"
Mello gave and exaggerated and loud sigh. He drew a breath, "No." He stood and strode across the room, scooped up a couple books and an overflowing folder and notebook combo, and headed to the door. Matt ran after him, "Not even a little, Mels?"
He grinned, pecked him on the lips, and ran out the door. Matt's hand fell as the soft, blond reward was pulled from his grasp.