Looseleaf

XXXV. Dizzy

The redhead felt uncomfortable being surrounded by bodies grinding against one another. He managed to slip out of the dancing crowd and take a seat in one of the couches in the corner or the bar.

"Come on, Matt, live a little!" Someone punched him in the back of the head. That someone was drunk, and therefore that punch hurt.

Matt shook his head. "Nah, I'm good, thanks."

The person narrowed their eyes before being whisked away by their partner.

"Wow, Matt, you're a bloody genius," Matt muttered under his breath, looking around. "Yeah, let's go to a bar and get plastered. Matt, that was so fucking original." His eyes roamed the room for another possibly good spot, seeing as a couple just started molesting each other five feet away from him. He caught sight of an empty barstool at the bar, quickly coming over to claim his spot before anyone else could.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked.

"A water," Matt said, feeling like someone was watching him. The goggled man turned to his right and saw a shorter blond looking at him questioningly. The bartender came back and handed Matt a bottle of water, which he gladly took a swig out of. "Hey, you look sort of fami--HOLY SHIT!" Literally, water spewed out of his mouth when he recognized the blond as Mello.

"Hey!" The bartender said angrily.

"You made's him angry," the blond giggled.

Matt slammed his water bottle down, mostly to keep himself from fainting. "Ah, shit, Mello, it's really you. My god..."

Mello frowned, jutting out his lower lip cutely. "I'm not 'shit-Mello.' I'm just--hic!-- Mello. Plain's old Mello, yep, that's me." Now he had started spinning himself on the barstool, laughing giddily.

Ignoring the bartender yelling at him, Matt grabbed Mello's shoulders to still the older one. Noticing the vodka bottle tightly clenched in Mello's hand, Matt whispered, "You're drunk."

"Hell yeah!" Mello nearly shouted, pumping up a fist. Then, as if that made him dizzy, his head lolled forward, taking his body with him. His head landed awkwardly on Matt's knee. "I'm reeeeaaaaally tired, y'know?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose into the rough denim.

Matt reddened, hastily standing up, supporting the blond. "We're going home, okay?" He said to the half-conscious Mello, who barely nodded in return. "Okay, give me the vodka bottle, Mel."

Mello frowned, clutching the bottle close. "No--hic!--! L-leave me and my v-vodka alone, dammit."

After Matt managed to pry the bottle off from him, he escorted them to his car, Mello whining all the way. When they got to the Camaro, Mello suddenly looked up at Matt, blue irises trying to focus. "You look a lot like Matt, you know? Are you his--hic!-- friend?" he hiccuped.

Matt smiled tryingly. "S-sure." They had to get home soon. Already, he could see gangsters peering out of their hiding places, searching for people to ambush.

Mello smiled back. "Tell him that he looks hot, m'kay?"

"Sure--What?!" Matt blinked, taking a sudden step back.

Mello supported himself, a hand gripping the hood of Matt's car. "Oh, hey, it's Matt....Hi, Matty!" he slurred. "Can we go home? I have to feed my turtle..." Again, his eyes fluttered shut and he started to fall forward. Matt caught him in time.

"Ah, what am I going to do with you...?" The redhead mumbled to himself as he sat the blond in the passenger seat. Matt got in the car and drove back to his apartment, letting his drunk best friend a long-time crush hold his hand tightly as if it were a lifeline.

"Love you, Matty..." Mello slurred, nuzzling the hand to his cheek.

Matt knew in the morning Mello would forget about this, and they would be back together again, but only as best friends. Screw it, he thought, glancing at the now-sleeping Mello. He smiled. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. "I love you, too, Mello."