Author's note: In my mind, this story is divided into three parts. With this chapter begins the second part and also the part that the name "Dark Chocolate and Stale Cigarettes" comes from. I'm sorry that this chapter seems a little short and the ending doesn't really seem to end it at all, but really, it is only meant to set things up for the next however many chapters in this part.

The next two chapters are meant to be read together so I will be posting them at the same time. The only problem with this is that I probably won't be updating again for about two weeks. I apologize; I've been doing my best to make sure to post a chapter per week, but I just don't think there is anyway possible I can get two chapters done in one week.

I'm also planning a Christmas oneshot. I'm really excited about writing it which means I'll probably be trying to multitask by writing it while I work on the next two chapters. No worries though, this will not delay my next update for this story. I only have one more week of school before Christmas break, and no school equals more time to write. I anticipate having all three up right around Christmas.

Chapter 13: Agreement

Mello could hear Matt coughing as he carried the laundry basket down the stairs. He passed Matt, who was sitting on the couch playing video games, and entered the small laundry room at the back of the house. He heard Matt coughing again, more violently this time.

Mello was becoming increasingly worried about Matt's health. He had brought it up a couple days ago, but Matt had said that he was probably just getting sick. Mello, however, attributed it to the fact that Matt had seemed to be smoking a lot more than normal recently. When Mello had told him of his theory, Matt had denied it. But Mello didn't really care why Matt had been coughing so much lately; he hated that Matt smoked and so had used this opportunity to yell about how terrible smoking was for him and that he should quit. This had proved to only be effective in making Matt mad at him for the rest of the day. Mello was convinced that the only reason Matt had forgiven him at the end of the day was because he wanted to be let back into Mello's bed, which they had been sharing now for a little over a week.

Mello loaded the laundry into the washing machine, hearing the front door shut in the other room. Matt was probably going out to smoke again. Mello sighed, wishing Matt had never started smoking. He remembered how shocked he had been when he had first found out.

Mello remembered dragging himself from the building he had blown up, using his cell phone to call Matt when he had found a place to hide. He could still recall the pain he had been in, bringing him to such a state of desperation that he saw no other option than to call someone for help. A small part of him still hated himself for doing this. He normally never asked anyone for help; it was a sign of weakness.

The surprise had been evident in Matt's voice when he had answered the phone; Mello was certain that he had probably never expected to hear from him again. Mello had figured he wouldn't agree to help him, but to his surprise, Matt had agreed right away, no questions asked. The pain had caused him to black out soon after he had hung up.

When he had woken up, he was in a hotel room. The left side of his face and shoulder were bandaged but still hurt like hell. He had sat up, getting ready to go look for Matt who had apparently brought him there, when he saw him out on the balcony smoking. Mello had forced himself out of the bed and across the room. He had thrown open the screen door and yanked the cigarette out of Matt's hand just as he was bringing it to his lips again, only to throw it over the edge of the balcony.

Mello chuckled, remembering the look on Matt's face. But in all reality, he wished it had been that easy to get Matt to quit. He hated the fact that Matt smoked; he hated the fact that he was slowly killing himself and didn't seem to care. Mello decided something as he closed the washing machine lid: Matt was going to quit whether he wanted to or not.

Mello went into the living room to await Matt's return so that he could let him in on the plans he had for him. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to convince Matt and so decided to just wing it. If worst comes to worst, I could just tell him he can't sleep with me again until he quits; that should be pretty effective. But that would be punishing me as well…

Mello's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Matt reentering the house. "By the way, as of now, you're going to quit smoking," Mello said before Matt could even sit down, his tone rather matter of fact.

"Wait, what?" Matt walked back over to the sofa and sat down.

"You heard me."

"Yeah, I did. I'm just wondering where you get off telling me what I'm going to do," Matt said, his voice becoming progressively more angered as he spoke.

"Well, since you apparently can't make good decisions for yourself, I'll do it for you," Mello said calmly.

"Good decisions, what, I," he sputtered. "What the fuck, Mello?"

"Yeah, Matt, what the fuck?" he said, his voice steadily rising, "Why are you so against quitting?"

"Why do you want me to quit so badly? You already make me go outside in this damned cold weather. I'm not hurting you by smoking."

"Really? Aren't you?" Mello returned, at this point yelling, "You're fucking killing yourself with those things! Do you have any idea what it would do to me if you died?" Mello watched as the anger drained from Matt's face. He hesitated before responding.

"Okay… I'll try," he said quietly. Mello smiled inwardly at his triumph, holding his hand out towards Matt. "What?" he asked, seeing Mello's outstretched hand.

"Give them to me."

"Huh? No! I…I can control myself." His hand went to his vest pocket which he evidently had his pack of cigarettes stored in.

"No, you can't," Mello said simply, getting up from the chair he was seated in to stand directly in front of Matt. He looked up at Mello, his eyes pleading. "Come on. Give them to me." Matt looked away, his hand still over his pocket.

Mello suddenly lunged towards Matt, landing on top of him. He wasted no time, immediately going for Matt's pocket. Having forcibly taken the cigarettes from him, Mello sat up slightly, still sitting on top of Matt. "It's only because I love you, Mattie," Mello said, looking down at Matt who had turned his head away and appeared to be pouting.

"Obviously." A hint of sarcasm laced his tone. Mello took Matt's jaw in his free hand to force him to face back towards him. He leaned down and kissed Matt softly before climbing off of him and the couch. He started towards the kitchen and, therefore, the trashcan. "Wait!" he heard Matt say behind him. Mello turned around to look at Matt, who, to his surprise, was smiling. "It's not fair that I have to give up something and you don't." Mello felt his heart drop; he knew exactly where this was going. "If I have to give up smoking, then you should have to give up chocolate." Mello glared at him.

"It's different. Cigarettes are bad for you; dark chocolate has antioxidants and is, therefore, good for you."

"When whoever came up with that published his finding, I don't think he intended for people to make, oh, I don't know, about 80% of what they eat be chocolate," Matt said with a smirk.

"…but…chocolate can still be good for you…" Mello suddenly was worried that his plan had gone horribly wrong and he couldn't think of any way out of the corner he had been forced into.

"It doesn't matter. You're still addicted to it," Matt said defiantly.

"Well…why don't we try it for a week? I'll give up chocolate; you'll give up smoking, and after one week, we'll, um, talk about it again," Mello agreed reluctantly.

"Mkay," Matt said, obviously happy about his relative victory. Mello continued to the trashcan and crushed the almost empty pack of cigarettes in his hand before throwing them away. He turned around to return to the living room and found that Matt had followed him. "Your turn," Matt said.

"Fine," Mello sighed, leading Matt up to his room. He handed him his last three bars of chocolate.

"Is this everything?"

"Yeah. Do you have anymore cigarettes anywhere?"

"No, that was my last pack." Matt left the room, chocolate in hand. Seeing that Mello was following him, he said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to throw it out. I'm just going to hide it somewhere; you can get it back after the week is over."

"Good," Mello said, relieved, "There's no need to waste it."

"Says the guy who threw away my cigarettes."

"It doesn't matter; you'll be quitting permanently after this week."

"In that case, maybe I should just throw this away then," Matt said, looking down at the chocolate he held in his left hand.

"Like I said, you'll be quitting for at least a week." He would worry about the permanent change Matt would be making later; right now, his chocolate was at stake.

"Much better," Matt said triumphantly, "Now go away. I need to hide this somewhere." Mello went downstairs, fuming. He wasn't at all pleased with the unexpected change in who held the power in this situation, and especially not how Matt was getting really cocky about it.

If his chocolate wouldn't have been at risk, he would have put Matt in his place. I'm the one who is supposed to have the power in this relationship, not him. Mello sat back down in the plush chair in the living room, resting his head on his fist. He stared blankly at the TV and Matt's still paused game, waiting for him to return and wondering how his plan had gone so terribly wrong. It's only a week. I can live without chocolate for a week. This wasn't how things were supposed to have happened.