NA: Mello, Mello, Mello, why are you so jealous? :)

Also, I don't know about this. Hope you like it, I don't know about me.

Love and Hate

[7]

Fanfiction

—

Mello comes in uninvited on a Thursday. Not that the Thursdays do differ from the originality, Near just chooses to place this piece of information on the rack in his mind anyway.

"What are you doing?" Mello asks after he has closed the door firmly, looking at Near with curiosity in his eyes, as Near is not sitting on the floor surrounded by train racks, but at the desk with a pensile in hand.

"Writing," Near answers, as if that answers to everything Mello demands to know.

It is interesting how possessive he is—how every inch of Near's thoughts needs to be revealed if Near didn't want a punch in his face.

"I can see that, dumbass. What are you writing?"

Near hides a smile behind the pensile, and continues to let the graphite color the white paper in ugly—his handwriting leaves much to be desired—letters.

"Fanfiction," Near tells him before turning around on the spinnable chair. Mello simply stares. He must be familiar with the concept of fanfiction, it is more the unlikelihood of someone like Near wasting time with those.

"Oh yeah? With a pairing?"

"Yes."

Even more unlikely. Near writing a romance fic? What is the world coming to? Near knows that he is not as romantically—or sexually—active as Mello would want, so this may be a big lump in his throat to swallow.

"Who are the victims?" For Mello, someone working after Near's pen must be victims. Little does he know that writing romance and experience romance are two different things. Near likes Mello in own way, which means that despite his inability to please Mello doesn't mean he doesn't know what love is. Love is complicated, probably for someone like Mello too, for everyone.

"L and Light," Near explains and can hardy keep his thin lips in a straight line.

Instead of dropping his expression, Mello takes the opportunity to dig in his pants for chocolate, which is probably wise at the moment. "L? You mean—our L?"

"I do not know many other Ls in this world," Near says dryly. "Despite that, I think they are a hot couple."

"Wait, wait, wait," Mello objects, waving with his foiled chocolate. "Fuck, did you really use the word 'hot?'"

Near rolls with his eyes and tucks his knee closer to his chin. "Yes, I did."

"Wow. Oh, and you chose to write about them? Them and not us? What a bastard you are."

"Why would I write about us? L and Light are not cannon, which I assume is favorable for both. We are not interesting to write about. They are."

"Why?"

"Because one—they enjoy each other's company. You have seen them, you cannot object. And two—Light Yagami's persona is very different from our L's own, which, I presume, is something that can make a relationship blossom."

"Idiot, you know nothing of these things!"

"Why not?"

"Because—dammit, love is not like you think it is."

"Mello is just frustrated because I chose to write about L and light instead of you and me."

"Well, yeah. Maybe I'd like to think that my boyfriend is more interested in his boyfriend than squealing like a fucking fangirl for a couple that doesn't exist!"

"I don't squeal like a fangirl."

"Fucking hell, take irony!"

"Please, Mello," Near mumbles and tries to reach for Mello's arms, but fails, as the blond is too far away. "It is not necessary for you to be jealous—"

"I'm not jealous," he hisses and squishes the chocolate bar in hand until strings of melted chocolate pours out from cracks in the foil, over his hands. "Fine, I give up. I hope you bloody murder Light, in a satisfying way in that piece of shit."

"No, Mello," Near shrugs, not getting anywhere with this. "If there is nothing else Mello wishes from me he can leave if he—"

"Fuck no, I want to read it," Mello snaps, moving his legs to the messy desk, lifting the piece of paper to the air.

"Ah."

"I bet you made Light sounding out of character," Mello says and to Near's delight placing his hands in Near's locks of hair.

Mello is angry. Near doesn't know where he has him. Mello leaves and he comes back. Near just sits there, with a romantic mind that is not enough for Mello.

But he tries. Mello, Near tries. Sometimes, he can't do more than that.

"What is Light Yagami for you, then?"

"A complete, fucking bastard."

"Well, then he is out of character."

Mello sits down on the blue carpet, blond fringe falling in his eye like a curtain on a windy day, and he takes the paper in both hands and reads it.

—

For Light this is surreal. How did it come to this, how did this evolve into something that can be described with this peculiar feeling, the feeling of need, the feeling of thirst? Light does not know.

He wants more. He wants everything L doesn't seem to give him.

"L," Light says, pulling out his hands to let fingers comb through soft raven hair, "I'm sick of this. Really—I am. You said yesterday that my persona irritated you, because I often let my temper take over, but not now. I need you, I don't lie to you now."

"How can I know such a thing, Light-kun?" L asks, but doesn't pull away, instead, pale, soft lips touches rosier one, warm, and Light opens his mouth to let L in, to taste the warmth, taste what Light has.

"What?"

"You are skilled at lying, Light-kun," L manages to say between kisses, "that—you do understand that lying once makes it difficult to believe you."

"Yeah, I know," Light says and lets his warm hands slide down L's neck to his shoulders, nestle there, L's warm, sweets-scented breath in the face. "But this—"

—

"For hell, Near, I can't believe it," Mello says and bits off a piece of warm chocolate with his teeth. "This is fucking passionate."

Maybe it is. That's how Near imagines their relationship, with a will to fight, to capture the interior struggles they have, much like Near and Mello but still different. Mello will not see that—he always takes everything for a challenge, which is something that makes their own relationship extremely complicated—and extremely amusing.

"Hey," Mello says and stands up again, getting closer, dropping the chocolate on the cold floor in timing with Near's gut. "I have an idea."

"Yes?"

"You are L and I am Light, let's do your fic," Mello explains, curling his lips to an evil smile that Near doesn't like the slightest.

What has he done?

"Mello, I don't think—mgh", Near says as Mello bows down to kiss him.

"'L, I'm sick of this'," Mello quotes with the most girlish voice he can uphold. "Really—I am. Now, I demand you to kiss me, L, or else I will go emo and cry in a corner because I'm such a sissy and wimpish and—"

"Mello, I never wrote that," Near says after Mello has stopped kissing him, still with a layer of chocolate left in his mouth to taste.

"I know," Mello says softly—softly?—and gives Near another kiss, harsher this time, but for some reason Near enjoys the sudden change. "And I more for improvisations anyway."

"Did you—Did you enjoy my writing?" Near says, although he is not much for forcing out compliments from anyone—at least not from Mello. But still Mello is different now, softer, more caring, a side Near didn't know existed.

"Yeah," Mello breathes, which makes Near's skin tingle. "But next time."

"Yes?"

"Write about us, for God's sake."

There's a hidden meaning in the sentence and Near catches it.

"I will try, Mello, but I'm still me."

Mello laughs and ruffles his head. "Hell, are you calling me stupid? I know that. I want that. I hate you sometimes, but—yeah, I still want you as you are."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Whatever. Now, L, will you not obey your lovely Light-kun and roll around in bed with me?" Mello asks, with an extremely out of character-giggle to prove his point.

"Mello…"

—

to be continued