The Bestest Party EVAR
by Kyrianne
A/N: This is kind of a sequel to the previous drabble. I just couldn't leave that keg party alone. XD
Since I wasn't lazy this time (omg no way), the people who won ecookies for the first vocab drabble are: Saphira279 and And-You-Thought-I-Cared. The vocabulary was as follows: innocuous, hubris, ilk, posthumously, interred, impasse, judicious, farrago, gambit, and subterfuge.
And no one's entered the other vocabulary contest thing yet. Pity. These cookies aren't going to be any fresher, you know.
Death Note isn't mine, etc etc. You know the drill.
WARNINGS:
1. This is very probably a crackfic. Or not. I don't really know how to categorize it.
2. It will be MelloxMatt. Because M&M is totally FTW. So, if you don't particularly want to read about random guy-on-guy snogging, I suggest you leave now. Only don't, because it's totally adorable. ;3
3. This particular story is actually rated T , for Mello's (and maybe Matt's, and the narrator's) horrendously vulgar choice of words. It's not horrible enough to be considered an M rating, but there are quite a few instances of the f-bomb in there, so I thought I'd let that be known.
4. It kinda keeps switching point of views. Sorry if that's confusing or hard on the structure when I switch between characters.
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"This the kind you wanted?"
The familiar voice, slightly muffled by what Mello knew to be an unlit cigarette, cut into his concentration. The blonde slammed his pencil down into the table accompanied by his fist and prepared to yell at his best friend for interrupting his study time. For a split second, he noticed with satisfaction that the pencil point had left quite a dent in the table, but then his thoughts clicked back onto the revenge track and he opened his mouth to yell.
"Matt, what the hell are you doing?!" he exclaimed. "I'm trying to study!" As if that weren't already obvious enough, what with the Algebra II textbook laying open in front of a mess of college-ruled paper with pencil marks crawling evenly across the horizontal lines.
Matt didn't reply in words, but his action of plunking a six-pack of beer on top of the rumbled papers was enough of an answer for Mello.
"Holy shit, Matt!" Mello struggled for something else to say, but his brain was still busy trying to process the fact that he probably had enough alcohol in front of him to get him wasted to the moon and back if he wanted. Probably more than once. (1)
It was only natural that his brain went on next to think of the hellcrashing hangover that he'd have the day after if he were to seriously get fucked up like that. His temples started to pulse slightly as if to give him a taste of the pain in store, but his mind had already pushed the fear of a hangover off of a mental cliff and was thinking up ways to put the beer to better use. In other words, he was planning a party.
"...Mells?" Matt asked hesitantly after a few moments of awkward silence. He had decided not to reply to Mello's outburst, unsure of the emotion that had been involved. Now, he could feel his stomach tighten anxiously as he waited for some sort of answer from his friend. After all, Mello had never been quiet this long, especially about something so important. Another second passed, and Matt added, "Earth to Mello!"
"Matt, how many people do you know?" Mello demanded suddenly, and the question put the redhead off guard for a moment.
"Well, I know you, and Near, and I guess kind of Linda, only she likes you better, and I guess I know Roger..."
"No, dammit! People who you can invite to the party!" Mello fumed at Matt's simple answer. Didn't he know exactly how many people he knew? Mello made sure he kept track down to the exact number, so why couldn't Matt do the same?? (2)
"Oh. Wait, what party?"
Mello slammed a palm to his face in exasperation. His patience was seriously running thin. Why did Matt always have to make him explain everything? "The party we are going to throw tonight, with the beer," he explained in a very unexpectedly calm voice. He thought about blinking in surprise at himself, only then he'd look less intelligent, so he decided against it and was only surprised inwardly. He supposed his good mood about the beer was enough to override any impatience at Matt, since Matt had gotten it and all.
"Ohhhh! I guess I kind of thought you meant just us," Matt interjected, producing a cheap red lighter from a pocket and holding it up to light the silent cigarette he held between his lips.
"Why the hell would I have a party with just us?" Mello exclaimed, then reached up to snatch the cigarette away before Matt could light it. "Gimme that!"
Matt reached after the cancerstick and complained, "Hey, that's my last one!" He winced as Mello flicked it out the open window.
"Someday you'll die from lung cancer, and then I'll be sure to tell everyone at your funeral what a fucking idiot you are." Mello turned to glare at his best friend. Matt just shrugged, but had a good enough level of guilt that Mello didn't press any further on the topic. Matt was glad for this reprieve; he was used to getting the same rant about lung health from Mello almost daily, but it still made him feel uncomfortably guilty.
"Now, people to invite?" Mello prompted, already thinking of who he wanted to invite.
Matt held up a hand and began counting out potential guests on his fingers. "Well..."
"Why isn't anyonecoming?!" Mello moaned dramatically, standing to pace through the few bits of empty carpet they had left in their room. They had gone around and snuck an invitation by word of mouth to every older kid in Wammy House except Near. Mello wasn't necessarily against the possibly-albino coming to his party, but he sure as hell didn't want to actually invite him. He could come if he thought it was important enough to move his little white ass far away from his toys to crash the party.
But it was already reaching 8 o'clock, and there were still no party attendants besides Matt and Mello themselves. Maybe the invitations hadn't been persuasive enough? Mello knew he shouldn't have let Matt talk him out of ending with "or else."
Matt glanced sideways at the fuming Mello, hoping that his own excitement wasn't too obvious. He hadn't really wanted a full-blown party; he liked it better when it was just him and Mello. He never liked interacting with the outside world much. He'd rather discuss preprogrammed battle tactics with a virtual warchief in one of his video games or just sit and think. The only person he ever voluntarily talked to was Mello, and even that got tiresome after a while, and extremely emotionally -- and sometimes physically -- draining.
Tonight was different, though. He had enough energy for anything tonight. Well, only the sphere of Mello's anything. If any people actually did show, he didn't think he could take all the attention that was sure to be aimed at him. After all, Mello was sure to flaunt the fact that they stole the beer (even though it had really only been Matt). Matt cringed as he thought of the girls that would probably be hanging on him all night, cooing and fawning at his sexiness or whatever. How could he be sexy if he was underweight and hadn't gotten a haircut in who knows how long? (3)
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Mello snapped, noticing Matt's withdrawal and slight cringe. Matt swallowed slightly, aware of the blonde's simmering anger. Mello hardly ever used the word fuck in that context, unless it was really important or he was really pissed off. Since there wasn't anything obviously wrong with Matt at the moment, he was sure it was the latter.
"Dunno..." Matt murmured, eyeing the cans of beer stacked in a perfect pyramid. Maybe if he soaked his brain a bit before hand this party wouldn't be so bad.
Just as he was reaching for the can on top, Mello grabbed it before his arm could fully reach. Matt blinked once in surprise, but let his hand glide smoothly to the next can down. Mello had already opened his can and took a sniff of the liquid before taking a sip. He grimaced and muttered, "Tastes just as bad as it smells."
Matt watched him dubiously as he tipped the can back and swallowed at least half of it before slamming in back down and uttering a deep belch, followed by a very disoriented sort of blink.
"What?" Matt prompted him, seeing the familiar glint in Mello's eyes that preceded a comment.
"My brain is...ohgod..." he squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, then opened them and grinned. "Tha's preddy weird. It's burning." His tongue felt like it was swollen in his mouth. (4)
Shit, Matt thought, he's already slurring a little. He looked down at his unopened can and thought for a moment before shrugging and opening it.
Ka-fshh...
He took in the carbonated fumes just to see how it smelled, and his nose wrinkled as the little bubbles burned his nostrils. He glanced up to see Mello, still looking pretty sober despite his earlier slur, holding his own can up for a toast.
"Hmm?" Matt asked, wondering if his friend had something to say before they drank. Mello smirked.
"To this party of us. Let's make it the best fucking party ever."
Matt could drink to that.
"I know a game we c'd play," Matt suggested thickly after a while. Four empty beer cans littered the floor beside the bed they were curled up on. Matt was on his third beer, as was Mello, but the blonde had somehow been able to down two in such quick succession that it gave Matt a headache even to watch. Even now, as Mello took occasional sips from his newest can, Matt had to push his face to hide in Mello's chest to suppress the urge to empty his stomach. It didn't make much sense that he could drink his own beer just fine, but what really makes sense when your brain is in a constant fuzzy haze?
"Wassat?" Mello breathed into Matt's ear a moment too late, but the redhead was just drunk enough that he didn't care. All he could really think about were the slender fingers that Mello had been combing roughly through his hair for the past half hour. It took him a while to remember what he had suggested before.
"Um, wait..." He struggled to concentrate on remember what game he had been talking about, but at that moment Mello's fingers reached the nape of Matt's neck and he couldn't think of anything but the warm tingle that spread from the point of contact. A noise of utter bliss escaped from his throat and he snuggled deeper into the crook of Mello's arm.
"Matty, thas fuggin 'dorble..." Mello murmured in a very uncharacteristically happy voice. God, he was drunk. (5)
The blonde tipped the last of his final can into his waiting mouth. His tongue darted out to lap up the last few drops that clung to the edge of the can, then he threw it to pile with the others.
As if to prove he could drink even more than he had already, Mello moved his mouth back to Matt's ear and muttered, "Y'gunna drink th' resta yours?"
Matt surrendered his half-empty can without a fight. It was gone, disappearing into Mello's stomach, before he even realized that his hand was empty. "Thiss th' best drink ever," the blonde declared, then hiccoughed violently.
6 cans now piled on the floor. And it was only 9 o'clock. Had they really downed them all in only a short hour?
"C'mere, Matty..." Mello slurred, trying to sound sultry but only ending up sounding like he had a headcold. Matt complied anyway, snuggling even closer than he had been before. He was debating where he should put his head when Mello decided for him by grabbing it with both hands and crushing it under the hollow of his neck in a drunken embrace. "I fuggin love 'ou," he muttered darkly into the crop of red hair. His fingers tightened on the tufts they held for a moment, then they went back to stroking Matt forcefully on the scalp. Matt made another noise of his contentedness, but it cracked a little on the end with some sort of longing. The gamer pushed himself closer to his friend and wrapped both arms around Mello's chest, hoping that he never had to let go.
Matt could smell Mello's usual chocolate infused natural scent even under the clinging stink of alcohol, and he could feel his face warm with a blush as he breathed it in. His stomach fluttered with a misplaced sense of urgency that he had no name for. He tensed subconsciously, but calmed again as Mello's hand swept through his hair once again, much more gentle this time.
And how very gentlethat was. Matt felt himself shiver uncontrollably at the storm of endorphins that spread through his veins like warm honey. His back arched slightly as Mello's other hand crept slowly down his spine to rest on the depression in his back just before his ass.
"Melloooo..." he moaned, aiming his nose upward to press against the soft flesh of Mello's jawline. The fluttering in his stomach grew and again he tried to place it, but his mind wouldn't functioning over the thick alcohol fog that monopolized the majority of his brain.
Mello replied to his outburst by grabbing his waist and pushing him away. Matt's heart wrenched in his chest before he realized that Mello was pushing him against the bed and was crawling on top of him--
He suddenly realized what he had been feeling.
Why hadn't he figured it out sooner?!
His panic seized him and his heart began to race uncontrollably in his chest. How could he be feeling this, so strongly, about his best friend, especially when it had never happened before? (6)
His soaked brain started to buzz from the pile of commands it had been given, then completely shut down as Mello leaned forward and pushed his mouth forcefully against Matt's.
The kiss lasted for only a second and could hardly even be considered a kiss, but Matt still found himself incapable of breathing, or doing anything, really. The only thing he could think of was the feel of Mello's mouth against his.
His eyes fluttered open; he hadn't even realized they had been closed. Mello's face lay suspended in the air above him by about 3 inches. It was cocked slightly to the left and a goofy smile pulled on the corners of the blonde's lips and gave his bluegreen eyes a playful (and slightly glassy) shine that made Matt feel as if he were drowning.
He wanted to drown, forever if that were possible.
Matt could feel himself quivering with anticipation beneath Mello's warm body, and he blinked before turning pleading eyes toward the boy above him. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was suddenly parched and no sound escaped. He licked his lips, swallowed, and tried again.
"Agin..." he murmured. "Kish me agin..."
Mello didn't wait long to obey this command, dipping to press himself against Matt again. Matt groaned slightly as Mello's mouth moved sluggishly on his, performing a dance neither of them had ever thought to experience before.
A sudden cold form pressed against Matt's stomach made him jump in surprise, but he realized soon that it was only Mello's hand, tugging upward on the fabric of his striped shirt in a vain attempt to rid Matt of it. The redhead let his muscles relax and allowed the blonde to yank it off after a while. Matt leaned up to receive Mello's mouth again as he finished, pulling him closer by wrapping himself, arms and legs, around the other boy for extra leverage. A moan escaped the blonde's lips, and the noise left Matt feeling much more self-assured.
Mello pulled his mouth away suddenly, a wild look in his eyes as he looked back and forth frantically.
"Whuh?" Matt mumbled. Mello opened his mouth to answer and the contents of his stomach dumped onto Matt's bare chest. Matt flinched but then started laughing uncontrollably, and Mello joined in.
"S'rry, Matty," Mello giggled, pulling entirely away from Matt to view the damage. Matt glanced down at it himself, and his laughter started up again.
"Ull go gedda towel..." the blonde muttered, leaving Matt to fend for himself. It didn't take long for Mello to stagger back into the room with a bathtowel (Matt was just sober enough to realize with regret that it was his).
The mess took a while to clean up, Matt yelping, then laughing, as Mello's unorthodox method of cleaning tickled him to pieces. When Mello had finished, he leaned in to kiss Matt on the nose, then sat up and declared, "I needa choclut bar." He got up to search for one, but Matt grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit down again.
"Don' go yet," Matt slurred when Mello gave him a look of mild annoyance. He let a boyish pout stick out his lower lip and he murmured, "Kish me agin..."
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1. That might sound kind of unrealistic, but you have to remember that Mello's like...14...maybe. I dunno. He's still at Wammy House. Whatever. Doesn't matter. XD More proof of how this thing is probably a crackfic.
2. Because I'm sure Mello is vain enough to keep track of the exact number of "friends" he has. Just so he can flaunt it later. XD
3. That's his opinion. I'm not exactly a Matt fangirl, but I'm sure that he's pretty sexy, even with his scruffy hair. Especially with his scruffy hair. XD
4. Sorry if this is going to be unrealistic. I've never actually been drunk.
5. Slurred words are surprisingly hard to render. o-O Sorry if you can't understand my poor attempts at it.
6. Hmm, I wonder what he's feeling. XD Didn't want to be too obvious with it; that would be dumb. You can figure it out, right?
A/N: Okay, seriously. Wasn't that adorable? Minus the Mello puke part. XD
I realized only after I'd finished writing that I did it past tense, like most of my fanfics, instead of the present tense I usually use for drabbles. Eh, whatever. Doesn't really matter, I guess.
Please review