AN: Arrgh, sorry this took so long! Here's part 2 of Matt's birthday celebration of awesome!
It was only after two more hours of shooting terrorists and zombies, riding jet skis, dancing horribly, and generally having fun that the blonde was finally able to drag an exhausted but glowing Matt to a table to take a break.
Matt sighed dramatically as they took their seats at a small stool table, whining under his breath about having to stop for a break. He didn't need a freaking break.
He sipped spitefully at the glass of water that he'd procured from a food vendor in the corner, and tried to distract himself from his lack of game playing by people-watching, though he quickly lost interest, as he couldn't really see any appealing game play from where they were seated. Instead the two were surrounded by a few other tables, one of which was full of a group of adults laughing obnoxiously, having obviously had one too many from the bar available on the second floor of the arcade.
He began to roll his eyes, but stopped mid-roll, paying no heed to the fact that he probably looked like he had something caught in his eyes. Wait a second.
He blinked, giving his thoughts a moment to put themselves together.
He may have been idiotic enough to forget his own birthday, but he was not idiotic enough to forget which birthday it was.
He grinned mischievously as he turned to face his blonde counterpart, keeping the corner of his vision on the partying table next to them.
"Hey Mello, " he started, his eyes twinkling roguishly as he continued, "I have an idea."
The blonde blinked at him, following his sights while somehow managing to lounge on the stool as if it were a full-fledged chair. He sucked at his Coke loudly with the straw floating just above the top of the beverage in order to produce annoying slurping sounds he was apparently enjoying for no apparent reason.
"What?" he asked boredly around the straw. Shooting an annoyed glance at the nearby table, he joked dryly, "You want to go get wasted like those morons?"
Matt's grin widened as he met Mello's gaze square in the eyes, and he made up his mind to answer the question truthfully.
"Well, that was my general idea, yes. After all, it is my 21st birthday, and what kind of 21st birthday would it be if we didn't get wasted?" He ignored the fact that he had been drinking long before he'd even been close to 21, then again, with the kind of life the gamer led, it was somewhat excusable.
The brunette frowned as he glanced again at the nearby table before continuing. "Of course, we'd have to find a real bar, there's no way I'd want to get trashed in a place like this."
He grinned impishly up at the blonde as he waited for the negative response he was sure he was going to get. Not that he planned on listening or anything.
"So what do you say?" Green eyes met blue in a kind of daring persuasion.
The blonde's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward on the table, examining Matt as if he were some sort of alien specimen. "But, Matt," he stated seriously after a second. "You already drink. What's the point?"
Damn. Mello cursed himself internally. There went his chance. His one viable chance to actually flat-out refuse and say no. But he hadn't. He'd only made a stupid comment that was as close to agreeing or not caring as being silent or outright jumping at the idea.
Well, crap. Now he was in for it.
Oh well. When he thought about it, he hadn't had a drink in a long time. It could be fun. And it was Matt's 21st. Let him do this kind of stuff legally for once.
Mello shrugged, finishing up his Coke with more loud slurping. He loathed smoking, but drinking... Well, he couldn't say he'd ever want to get so wasted he couldn't remember the day before, but he wasn't so opposed to alcohol as to have kept from having some once in a while-- since way before a few months ago, even, when he could "legally" have it. Same concept applied here, he realized, suddenly finding himself very content with the Coke and chocolate bar Matt had been forced to buy him for losing and in an almost amiable mood. He wasn't about to let Matt get "trashed" as he so eloquently put it, but a few drinks would actually be rather nice. After all, who knew how exhausting it would be to play some goddam computer games for a few hours? Jesus, he felt he'd been sparring with a few martial arts experts or something. And with the small twinges of sore muscles and bruises, as well as his cut, from the day before, Mello had to admit to himself at least that he wasn't really too eager to keep this up. A nice relaxing cocktail actually sounded wonderful. And he didn't even have to drive. Excellent.
He grinned. Matt, you lucky bastard. "Just don't make a habit out of it, ok?" he snapped finally, standing up and slipping on his coat.
Matt opened his mouth abruptly ready to protest, but then shut it again when the denial that he was waiting for didn't come.
Wait a second. Had Mello just agreed to actually go?
The brunette sprang off of his seat, nearly toppling the stool in the process, but managed to catch it with the back of his foot and set it straight.
"Awesome!" he cried above the noisy commotion of their surroundings, still a little shocked that Mello had agreed to go, but not caring to push his luck by asking for clarification.
He pouted then as the blonde's last words caught up with him.
"And of course I won't make it a habit, Geez, Mel, what kind of person do you think I am?" He punctuated this firmly by very maturely sticking out his tongue at the blonde.
The comment had bothered him a little more then he let on, considering the request wasn't really that out of place given his past experience with alcohol. Though that had been a few years back when he'd been living a different life, and it wasn't as though Mello knew about that part of his life, so he let the comment slide and allowed another large grin to fall onto his face.
"Alright then," he continued, tone completely serious but that stupid grin still in place as he slammed his palms down onto the table before his friend.
"It's settled. So I say, we call a cab, and ask them to take us to the closest late night bar in town. Sound like a plan?"
The blonde shrugged in acquiescence. "Whatever," he agreed, eyeing Matt with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity.
Sticking out your tongue, Matt? Yeah, REAL mature. Way to prove your "adulthood" by making faces and suggesting we go get wasted.
"Idiot," he added as an afterthought. "Well, come on. I don't plan to stay 'til morning no matter what you say and it's getting late. Besides, I think this place is closing." (Thank God, he thought. True, it had been fun, but still, it really wasn't his cup of tea.) "Go call that cab."
Matt wasted no time in complying with the blonde's demand, strolling out of the arcade with only a small amount of reluctance, and making his way to the curb to flag down a taxi. He trusted Mello would catch up to him momentarily and was pleasantly surprised to find a taxi sooner then he had expected.
He opened the back door, and slid into the farthest seat as he asked the driver to wait for one more before he took off. The driver nodded in acquiescence and Matt informed him of their destination.
The gamer didn't really have any preferences, except that whichever bar they were going to be taken to, have a decent reputation (popularity wise, and class wise), and he did specify that he didn't want to go anywhere near the Bronx, or any other bad section of town. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to those kinds of places, hell, he thought, they usually had the best clubs and bars, but the people who went to the shady side of town were likely to be shady themselves, and considering their new line of work it was probably a bad idea.
Not to mention Mello was ten times more likely to get pissed off at them and start a fight with someone at a bar like that. Not that the alcohol had anything to do with it. Mello just liked starting fights, or at least that's what it seemed like.
He searched the arcade exit for his friend, hoping he wouldn't take too much longer, and was pleased to see him already heading towards the cab.
The blonde slid into the seat next to Matt silently, shooting him a moody glare that suggested he didn't really appreciate Matt running off like that without really waiting.
His mood, however volatile, was still considerably good though and he leaned lazily against the door, watching the dizzyingly bright lights, as downtown New York rushed past, with a sort of musing satisfaction. He liked big cities; they were always so full of things to do and see. He didn't like crowds incredibly much, but he loathed boredom above almost all else and if there was one thing to be guaranteed in a place like this, it was that he'd never be bored for long. Plus, it was a total bonus--in his opinion--that cities like this were generally fraught with criminals, and at the moment to him, that meant money in his pocket.
The thought brought a mischievous smirk to his face. They'd only been here a few days, but so far he was quite enjoying New York.
"So where are we going?" he asked after a few minutes, already getting impatient. "Is it far?"
The brunette started to reply but found himself stopping when the cab pulled up to a curb and the driver told them they had reached their destination. Matt didn't even have to ask to know who was going to be paying, so he swiftly reached into his back pocket and handed a few bills that he retrieved from his wallet to the driver, sure to include a tip.
He stepped out of the cab shortly after the blonde, his eyes immediately drawn to the bright blue neon lights that spelled out the words 'New York Planet' across the top of the entrance.
Well from the looks of it, this was definitely closer to a club then a bar, but he didn't really care either way.
Besides, the place looked pretty awesome.
He took note of the casual dress of the people walking in and out of the swinging doors guarded by two bouncers, and was glad to see that they would actually fit in pretty well, though he did feel a little out of place with his jeans, not enough to make him turn back though.
His gaze followed the short line that led to the doors, and he turned to his companion.
"Let's go get in line so we can get in as soon as possible." There was no mistaking the eager glee in his expression. The sooner they could get in, the better.
Mello's eyes narrowed at the mention--and sight--of the line but he said nothing about it, scowling to himself about having to wait at all. It didn't look terrible at least. It wasn't like the sort of trashy dumps he'd seen in movies about New York. Of course, this was Manhattan, so that was probably why. Dismissing the thought, he followed Matt toward the entrance, commenting sarcastically, "Wow, what an original name," and earning an annoyed look from one of the bouncers.
He glanced at Matt, who was still grinning like a moron. He had his hand in his pocket like he was just itching to show his ID and get inside. Idiot. He got too excited over the weirdest things. It wasn't like he hadn't used plenty of fake IDs to get into other clubs. In fact, Mello would be willing to bet his entire fortune that the name and age on the card he showed to the large black-suited man wasn't his this time either.
Yawning, the blonde flashed his own fake ID and followed Matt inside, hoping this place at least had decent music, and quickly located the bar.
Matt followed Mello to a couple of bar stools where they both sat down, and he immediately flagged down one of the bartenders.
The bar tender that came their way was a cute redhead, probably no older than twenty three at the most, and Matt wasted no time in flashing her a large grin when she arrived to take their order.
"Hey there fellas, what'll it be?" she asked returning Matt's grin.
Matt already knew what he wanted having had much experience in the field years ago.
"I'll take the Four Horsemen please, and my friend…" he trailed off, motioning to Mello for his answer.
"An African Chocolate Martini with rum," the blonde replied in bored tones, not even looking at the girl as he fiddled with one of the many zippers on his coat, digging around for any leftover chocolate but getting the irritated feeling that he really was all out after all. With an irritated little scowl, he blinked up at the busty redhead and added, "Extra chocolate. And extra of the chocolate shavings on top." Please didn't really exist in his vocabulary and the slightly annoyed look the bartender was trying to conceal made him glare harder at her back.
It was pretty loud and he glanced over, a little surprised (but not badly) to find a live band playing some rock song he'd probably heard on the radio once but couldn't place. Eh, he had to at least admit it wasn't half-bad. The lead singer sounded like he was pushing it a little too much, but the guitarist was mostly covering him up anyway. Overall, it was alright. He decided Matt must've asked the cab driver for a recommendation since Matt probably had much poorer taste. Mello smirked at the gamer, leaning his elbows on the counter. "Stop staring at her ass," he muttered, "Or at least stare discreetly, moron."
The brunette directed an irate glare at the blonde, and flashed him the finger.
"I was not, "He whispered fiercely trying his best not to be overheard by said waitress, a light flush coloring his face, "staring at her ass."
Though she was pretty hot. He thought to himself, but decided it best he not add that little bit of insight as it wouldn't do much good for his argument.
His glare vanished instantly when the bartender, who he now noted had the name "Kim" etched onto a black nametag, returned with their drinks. He flashed Kim another smile as she mixed their drinks in a showy display and paid leaving a heavy tip, but otherwise did nothing to leave room for the blonde to make any more suggestive comments.
He sighed, but let the issue go, despite the fact that she winked at him as she walked away to attend another customer.
He wanted this birthday to be all about he and his best friend.
Birthdays were about celebrating making it through another year, right?
Well, considering the fact that the gamer wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for the blonde, he wanted this birthday to be a celebration between the two of them. The thought was enough to stop him from slipping his number to the decently pretty Kim when he paid her, and allowed him to refocus his attention back on his best friend. He owed that and probably much more to Mello.
"Hey," he started, a grin slipping over his features as he lifted his drink towards Mello's, "To making it through all of the shit that we have."
Birthdays were about celebrating making it through another year, right?
Well, considering the fact that the gamer wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for the blonde, he wanted this birthday to be a celebration between the two of them. The thought was enough to stop him from slipping his number to the decently pretty Kim when he paid her, and allowed him to refocus his attention back on his best friend. He owed that and probably much more to Mello.
"Hey," he started, a grin slipping over his features as he lifted his drink towards Mello's, "To making it through all of the shit that we have."
Mello turned blank blue eyes on him, staring at Matt's raised drink silently for a split second.
A split second that was enough for the crushing weight Matt had certainly not intended to accompany his words to hit the blonde with all the force of guilt and pain, the smell of blood and fire and terror.
It was only a spilt second, and the flash of emotions in his crystal blue eyes was all too much and not enough and completely imperceptible, as if it had never been there. As if nothing had happened. As if they hadn't almost...
Tipping his shallow martini glass slightly to knock softly against the glass of Matt's drink, Mello allowed himself to smile slowly.
He took a sip, tasting the sweet burst of ice and alcohol and chocolate.
It tasted of relief. Of victory. Of life. Of trust.
"Happy Birthday, Matt," he congratulated his friend softly, smiling a sort of childish crooked grin that looked out of place on his dark leather-clad and fairly intimidating form. He raised his drink again, and added even more quietly but with strong resolve and a light smirk, as if he meant the words but mocked their dire causes, "To making it through no matter what fcked-up shit we get landed it." He took a long pull at his drink through the little green straw. To making it through, his mind echoed, To life, because it's short and shitty. And to the people worth protecting in this fcked-up world.
He could read the same thoughts in the emerald eyes trying to peer into his own with something a little too sentimental for the blonde to want to dwell on long.
Instead, Mello flashed his sharp white canines again, nodding at Matt. "What are you staring at me like a dipstick for, dumbass? You ain't getting anything else from me for a long time, y'know, so make sure you have a hell of a time here."
--
Amber eyes burned into the back of the leather-clad boy sitting at the bar.
The black haired man's gaze could not be broken, nor could he move. He didn't even get up to clean the shards of broken glass covered in little specks of blood from the shot glass he had shattered in his hand unconsciously upon seeing the blonde. Instead, he carelessly let the pieces fall to the floor, wiping the seeping cuts on his hand onto a blue cloth napkin, all the while his scorching gaze never leaving the man in front of him.
It was him. There was no question about it. Aside from the detail in which Emilia had once described the man to him, he himself had witnessed the blonde twice in his life. There was no mistake about it. It was in the way he sat, as though everyone else in the world was dirt beneath his shoes; the way he moved, languidly, almost elegantly like a panther, or a leopard. Deadly and beautiful, and entirely destructive. No, he could never forget a boy like that.
And that's what he was, a boy, he realized as he gaze lingered on the object of revulsion before him. He couldn't have been even twenty five. He was still a child; the thought fascinated and repulsed him at the same time. To have climbed the political ladder of the mafia at such a young age was unheard of. To have done some of the atrocities that the blonde was rumored of committing was disgusting.
This…this thing…he thought to himself, hands clenching until the bite of his nails drew blood from the warm flesh of his palms, no matter how young or childish it might appear, is nothing but a monster.
The abomination in front of him--sitting so casually, so contentedly at the bar, as though he deserved to be there, as though he wasn't a cold blooded murderer, as though he deserved to be breathing--was none other then the product of his nightmares brought to life.
The one who called himself Mello.
The one who had killed his precious, precious Emelia.
His hands tightened on the napkin he still held, thoughts coming unbidden.
It would be so easy. So incredibly easy to simply walk up and break that silly little slender neck of his. He could stroll up casually, ask for a drink, maybe even whistle a show tune, just for good measure, and then while he waited, he could slip his strong calloused fingers around the exposed bit of pale skin, and just squeeze, squeeze until he watched the life flee from those blue, blue eyes. Squeeze until that body that was so incredibly alive stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped existing.
No one would even notice until it was already done.
His hands fisted tighter, and the blood that had coagulated on his cuts became thick and alive once more, the adrenaline swimming through his body, making his heart pump faster, a steady rising cadence echoing hollowly in his ear drums.
He dragged his gaze away.
No, he could not afford to be so foolish. Sure, he could do it, but that bastard wasn't worth the repercussions it would cause.
He wasn't worth anything.
But still, he would have his revenge. He would see to it that the boy suffered as long and as much as possible. He'd been in the business long enough to know exactly how to cause someone the most amount of pain and instill the least amount of damage.
His eyes flickered like magnets back up to the scene, and something made his thought process stop.
He'd caught a flash of something, something that he would have deemed impossible had he not witnessed it for himself.
The monster had smiled. A real smile. His gaze was immediately drawn to the cause of the phenomenon, only to disappointedly land on a completely normal, if a bit underdressed boy.
There was no carnage, no crime scene. No mortal sin apparent that had caused such a genuine reaction to overcome the boy.
The red head then? He shifted his gaze to the other boy at the bar, no brunette he corrected himself. The boy was exceedingly average. He didn't look like he'd ever even held a gun. Let alone fired one.
But the way that bastard looked at him, the way he laughed so care-freely. The filthy murderer actually had a friend then. He almost dismissed the thought as ludicrous until his mind fully began to comprehend what it could mean.
The corners of his lips pulled up into a well-worn eager grin.
Well, now he was getting somewhere.
--
"Oh, screw you too Matt," Mello drawled, his words just a little slurred, his movements as he raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention just a little too slow. "It's not my fault she left because you were trying to see down her shirt. Or maybe her shift was just over? Oh, don't be a baby," he growled, letting the new--young Latino male--bartender pour some more rum into the thick chocolate syrup he had asked for a bit ago.
It had been a little over an hour already, if he recalled correctly. The clock on the other side of the bar was a little fuzzy, even though Mello had perfect vision. The busty so-called "Kim" from before had left about half an hour ago and Matt was still bitching at him for "scaring her off, dammit." Mello just rolled his eyes at him, lounging on his stool like a large satisfied cat. Ridiculous. So he'd made a few comments, shot her a few glares, so what? Her shift had been over, probably. Big whoop. Matt was just being bitchy for no reason.
"Jesus, chill out," the blonde snapped, finally becoming impatient with the unsightly childish pout his friend was wearing as he consumed another shot of whatever "horsemen" were riding in his glass.
"You're still having fun," he growled, more a command than a statement. He bit into the sandwich he'd ordered a few minutes ago with rather vicious gusto, ice-blue eyes glaring at Matt. Little bastard. First he was goddam flirting and as if that wasn't annoying as fck, now he was sulking. Mello took his irritation out on the turkey melt in his hands, tearing into it fiercely.
The gamer glared up at the cause of his sulking, but let out a small sigh as he realized the blonde was kind of right.
I mean, it's MY birthday, and I wanna have some fun damnit! Just because Mello's gonna be a prick, doesn't mean I have to let him bring me down. Besides, like they say, there's plenty of sea in the fish, er, fish in the fish he mentally corrected himself, and frowned upon realizing it still didn't sound right, but gave up with a careless shrug. In fact, He decided to himself, his mood lifting into something much happier, if not as sane, since I am SUCH a good friend, I am going to make sure Mello has a great time too.
He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol flooding his veins, or just the idea of Mello having a good time that drove him to do what he planned, but he didn't really care either way, and it was with that mission in mind that he stood up from his seat, staring wildly in one direction, and pointed at a random spot in the crowd, knowing it would be difficult for Mello to pin point exactly where he was looking. Especially since he wasn't actually looking at anybody.
"Oh my God! Mello, did you see that guy?" he stared into the distance, jaw dropped open in disbelief, until the blonde's head swiveled around to follow the hacker's line of sight. If he'd been sober in the least he would have been ashamed for using such an elementary tactic; as he was though, he didn't even notice. When Mello was facing the other direction, he promptly proceeded to pour half of his drink into the other's chocolate syrup concoction. Even as far gone as he was, Matt knew enough to know that at this point the blonde wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He giggled aloud to himself, then grinned up at Mello as he threw the gamer a "what the hell?" kind of look, to which Matt responded with a nonchalant shrug, and turned again to face the dance floor.
He watched in fascination as the bodies on the floor seemed to all unite and move as one single unit. The forms twisting in every direction to the rhythm of the music, arms and legs pumping and writhing to the beat of every drum. The scent of heat, sweat, and ecstasy that was emitted from the tangle of limbs drifted towards the bar for a moment, and beckoning to the gamer.
"Hey, Mello!" he whined, tugging lightly on the blonde's bare arm, "Let's go dance!"
Mello turned his head to shoot the coldest glare he could muster--a bit of a more difficult feat than usual, given that his eyes had some trouble focusing-- at the gamer, wrenching his arm away. "What the fck?" he spat. "I do not have any intention whatsoever of throwing myself into that mindless mass of fools. They're way too close together," he added firmly, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. Well, to him it was anyway. He didn't like being touched, and by strangers at that. The idea was revolting. Honestly, he liked the music, but if there were people...
"Count me out," he growled, turning back to his drink, shoulders a bit hunched protectively. Fing Matt with his spontaneous stupid ideas. He scooped some of the thick chocolate concoction in his cup into his mouth with the end of the straw, then-- realizing it wasn't as thick as he'd thought--settled for titling the glass up to his lips and letting the liquid slowly ooze toward his mouth instead.
He shot another glare at Matt, who was reaching for him again, and kicked him in the shin to make him back off. Matt knew he didn't like being close to people. Was he really trying to piss him off?
And why was he grinning like that?
Scowling into his martini glass, Mello licked his lips slowly. It tasted... better? Nah, he was just getting pissed off and the chocolate was calming. He took a larger gulp, tilting his head back since it was still a pretty thick substance and the cup needed to be turned almost upside down so he could get the last of it.
He licked his lips again, blinking dumbly at the now-empty glass in his hands. Well, shit. He licked at the rim, suddenly confused as to why it was gone so fast. Maybe another...
Mello lifted a pale arm languidly, drawling commandingly toward the waiter, "More chocolate syrup."
"Er, you want anything with that, sir?" the man asked skeptically, though he already knew the answer.
Mello grinned. "A cherry."
He smiled happily as his cup was refilled with pure Heaven. Then he remembered Matt. Blinking around in confusion again, Mello tried to locate his friend who had been silent too long now. "Matt?" Maybe he'd ditched him and gone to the dance floor after all. He'd meant to shrug that off and think it was better for him that way, but somehow the thought made him angry. "Bastard," he growled, pushing himself up from the stool and grabbing his chocolate-in-a-cup, ignoring the bartender's protest that drinks weren't allowed on the dance floor.
Matt watched from his place against the wall as Mello got up to seek him out, as he had known he would. The gamer grinned as he left his spot and strode up behind the blonde, and hooked his own black and white clad arm through his friend's. Something in the back of his head screamed a warning at him at the physical contact with the easily irritated blonde, but he ignored it, shooing it away with a mental wave in favor of using what little of his mind was properly functioning for more beneficial uses. Like scoping out the best spot on the floor to dance.
He casually allowed his arm to drop, avoiding Mello's expression. He must have caught his friend a little off guard, he judged by the way the blonde had given an almost imperceptible jump, and cursed aloud, a feat that in any other setting could have been fatal, and while some part of him registered that little bit of information, right now the only thought that came to his mind was, Ha ha! I must be the only hacker that is a total ninja. Bam! I am awesome.
He laughed a bit to himself as he continued to look for a good spot in the crowd, and then stopped and gave an "oh!" of surprise and triumph. Damn, that was a good spot. Right between that cute little blondie and her black haired Latina hottie of a friend. He didn't leave time for protest before he hauled Mello over to his destination, letting go of him once again when he made eye contact with the two girls dancing unaccompanied.
He greeted them with a simple, "hey," just loud enough to be heard over the pounding of the music around them.
They both answered with a simple smile, and it was enough of an invitation for Matt to begin dancing right alongside the two welcoming pretty girls.
Blue eyes widened, blinking slowly as he suddenly realized where he was. WTF?! One second he'd been by the bar, now he was in this mass of goddam people and the moving limbs and body heat and... Ugh, he wasn't sure if he was going to be sick or if maybe he'd just had too much to drink.
Impossible, his mind tried to tell him thickly as Mello watched Matt with the inexplicable and sudden intense urge to start laughing uncontrollably. He'd only had a bit of rum. No way he could be drunk.
Haha, but Matt looked really funny. He'd never seen Matt dance before and the sight made him want to giggle. The small part of Mello that actually caught that train of thought was utterly repulsed by it, but logic was quickly deciding to take a nap somewhere in the back of his mind for the rest of the evening and he was vaguely pissed and vaguely amused to find Matt poking him in the ribs and hissing something in his ear. It took him a second to notice due to the blinding mutli-colored lights that kept stealing his attention, that there was a small dark-skinned girl sidling closer to him, her hips moving rhythmically with the music. Mello watched her for a second, faintly curious to see what she was trying to do. Her long, straight raven-colored hair swayed and moved around her body like a wispy, inky silk cloak and he felt it brush his arm.
He moved back a little at the contact, scowling at her, but she did not back away, her full, dark red lips curving into a beckoning smile.
Shit, what was he supposed to do?! He cast a quick perplexed glance at Matt for help...
...And the bastard pushed him into her.
Mello almost let out a yelp when the girl put her hands on his chest, stroking the leather and smiling enticingly at him, as Matt fing leered and reached for her blonde companion's waist. Blue eyes wide and confused, Mello suddenly found himself with his own hands being held to the slim waist of the Latina girl pressing against him and trying to get him to move with the music. His mind was slow and fuzzy and he wasn't quite sure if he was panicking or enjoying himself as he shot a look at Matt as if to rescue him. He couldn't pull a gun here... he couldn't beat a woman off of him... he may be a self-admitted psychopathic freak but he didn't beat up on girls...!
Matt nearly choked on air when he saw the panicked look on Mello's face.
Sure, give the guy a gun and he's right at home, but hand the guy a girl, and he's clueless.
God, that was just so typical Mello.
Matt shook his head, grinning like an idiot and focused his attention back on the sweet young blonde dancing in his own arms. She was cute, nothing special, but cute. Pretty little gold ringlets framing her round face and spilling over her back, and deep hazel eyes that practically would have shone in the dark for how much they were glowing with amusement. Yes, definitely cute, though her dark featured friend was the real catch.
What the hell, he figured, he was in a giving mood, and thought he'd be nice and let Mello have fun with that one. Besides, she'd been eyeing Mello when they walked up, not Matt.
He chanced another glance at his friend only to find that Mello had somehow wound up facing the other direction, and his facial expressions were no longer available to the gamer, though he could at least tell that the girl was having a good time, if her grin was anything to go by.
Aw, well, He'll manage on his own for a while.
The hacker switched his concentration back to his own partner once again, and he allowed himself to get lost in the music. His hips swayed in time with the beat, and he laid his hands on the small of the girl's back, content to let their bodies sway as one. They both wore identical grins, and he was suddenly very glad he'd picked this one to dance with.
Unconcerned with the stupid look on Matt's face at the moment, Mello had his own problem to handle-- specifically a rather private-space-invading, big-hipped, full-lipped female problem.
She just kept fcking staring at him with those deer-like dark brown eyes of hers and goddam reaching for him.
Oh, for the love of Christ! Didn't she fing know the man was supposed to lead? He'd look like a goddam pansy if some girl was leading him to dance. Little bitch...
Mello let out a soft growl, meeting her eyes with his own icy blue glare. He saw her freeze for a second, a cold, self-satisfied smirk slipping onto his lips. Well, fck, if she wanted to play like that, he could play too. The physical contact still bothered him a bit, yet the odd, spreading, warm sensation made him feel somewhat giddy and somehow accentuated his senses. The music pumped in his ears, beat strong and wild, guitar and drums and bass vibrating loudly all around.
He may not always be in the mood for dancing, but Mello had never denied he liked music, loved to feel the bass pounding in his head and the scream of the guitar, the systematic slam of the cymbals.
"You dance like shit, little lady," he spat, voice cold yet that grin still playing on his lips. "It's not about just moving your ass side to side, and it's not about fcking groping your partner. Hands off, got it?" He pushed her away, not too roughly but firmly, deciding to ignore her until she learned to dance properly.
He'd come to clubs before. Music was fun, music was addictive, music was life. No, he didn't come to get all touchy-feely with people, it just wasn't his style. A couple shots of rum or gin, and if he felt like it, he'd hit the dance floor by himself and he couldn't give a flying rat's ass if people stared at him. If anyone approached him, he'd usually scare them off with a deranged grin or perhaps elegantly retreat back to the bar if he was tired, but it all depended on his ever-volatile moods.
And right now, it was all about that ear-bleedin' guitar solo throbbing in his head and the lead singer rasping out something that may have been notes but sounded raw and full of emotion and somehow more alive.
Cold blue eyes cast a bored glance at the hurt and surprised girl he'd just stepped away from and Mello flashed her white canines tauntingly, the warm sensation is his stomach spreading to his chest, through his veins like fire and it made him feel relaxed and more at ease than just a few minutes ago. So Matt wanted him to dance?
Fine.
His body moved, snakelike, lithe and smooth and fluid with the music. He didn't even know this song, but he decided he liked it. He also liked the bewildered look his would-be dancing companion was giving him. He smirked, hair swaying around his shoulders like a thick halo, thin wisps clinging to the moisture gathered on his neck and cheeks from the body heat, and he brushed it back with a fluid motion of his hand, black-polished fingernails raking lightly though the golden strands before the movement was lost in the rest of his body's motions and he smiled, self-satisfied and warm and mind suddenly blank and pleasantly fuzzy.
Something in the back of his head was telling Mello he was drunk; something else was arguing that it just wasn't possible. A third voice was shouting for him to kick Matt's ass for some reason, aggressive and defensive and annoyed. He told his mind's resident voices to shut the fck up and grinned wolfishly at the girl.
"Music... becoming a physical sensation, an embodiment of the rhythm, that is what dancing is, you ignorant broad."
The gamer watched in something akin to stunned amusement as Mello ditched his dancing partner, opting instead to dance alone.
He and the girl in his arms, who he had learned was named Rosie when she had giggled it into his ear, had both turned to watch the other two, having seen them separate. The two of them watched, Rosie suddenly maddeningly giggly at the sight of her dark haired friend's rejection, and the gamer suddenly amused for inexplicable reasons.
But damn, Mello was a good dancer! His mind declared, recognizing even through the alcohol-induced haze the rarity and incredulity of such a sight. He stared unabashed at the leather-clad form that was starting to draw a small crowd, though the blonde seemed unaware.
It was like watching the flames of a fire licking up every drop of creation in its path, as bystanders were equally intimidated and stunned into stillness, content instead to watch the oblivious performer. Beautiful, and deadly, and only aware of himself, without a thought of anything else in the world but to remain blazing, and alive.
He blinked, closing his eyes slowly and reopening them if only to ensure that he was not seeing and illusion created by his foggy inebriated mind.
He took a step back from Rosie, gently disentangling himself from her lithe arms and giving her one last smile, before he took his leave, edging closer to small circle that had once again resumed their dancing, if at a slower pace that allowed them to leave their eyes trained on the unaware attraction who entwined himself so perfectly with the music.
A somewhat strange and yet at the same time completely expected magnetism drew the hacker closer to the dancing blonde, loving Mello's ability to let go for once, and at the same time, feeling himself sober a bit at the sight, emerald eyes scanning the crowd thoroughly, just in case.
Satisfied that his paranoia was only a reaction to over protective instincts working double time (they were now working alone to cover two, after all), the gamer watched his friend with that same giddy happiness that had refused to leave his system all night, and some different kind of fondness. He smiled.
At the sight of Mello letting his guard down, a small ache in his chest seemed to relax, a funny thing since he hadn't noticed it until that moment. He grinned stupidly, his gaze still lingering on the gracefully twirling blonde, taking in the moment, the laughter and music, drinking in darkness, lights, Mello, and this unforgettable feeling of life, life he thought he had given up on.
He was 21, an age he would have bet all of his games on two years ago, that he would never live to see. Mello was with him, and he was happy, as much as he could be anyway, and they were both alive. He realized, swallowing hard over the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, that things hadn't been this way for a long time.
He had never expected them to be this way ever again.
But they were.
The grin on his face practically exploded, as a deep sincere laugh rose up from his throat.
Things were good, and they were only going to get better.
It was a nice thing to look forward to, and a feeling he hadn't really genuinely felt in a long time.
"Happy Birthday, Mail," He voiced aloud to himself, calling himself by his own name for the first time in over a decade.
It felt nice.
