jugo.
Mello had chosen to sleep on the couch that night.
It was a nervous thing, since sleeping with Matt would have made him antsy and would have gotten him thinking about things he shouldn't. So, at the moment when the sun began to spread evenly over the still-stained carpet, the blonde returned almost immediately to consciousness, mumbling something that even he himself didn't recognize.
Boot-clad feet padded roughly across the living room, a dawning apprehension flitting over his dulled mind as he realized: today was the day when they headed out to Japan. A frown twisted across his face.
By the time Mello was prowling around, Matt was still sleeping. In fact, he was sleeping quite like a hibernating animal-- the fact that he was half hanging off the bed didn't even seem to perturb him half as much as the prospect of heading out to Japan was bothering Mello.
While the other looked as though he was enjoying his sleep, despite the fact that it had just come, and that he was half on the bed, Mello strode up quite calmly and prodded him sharply. Matt, after all, was the one who knew when they were heading out, and had all of the information. Then again, he could always take everything and leave without him...not that he had originally planned anything like that. It was just, well, he could probably hire anyone he wanted to do exactly what he had in mind for Matt and not care if that person in question died.
Matt stirred, but only to wave his hand to ward off Mello when the other came up and poked him. He mumbled something unintelligible and opened his eyes, squinting at what little light streamed through his window blinds. Oh. Oh yeah. Today was Japan day. He rolled all the way out of the bed, wincing slightly and getting himself together. He pulled his goggles on and ruffled his red hair from underneath the band. "Time to go?" He blearily questioned, even though he was the one who knew when they were leaving.
"You tell me," said Mello, rather impatient. Though the other had gotten up rather quickly, quick never was quick enough. And so, he stomped away and gathered the things he had packed days beforehand, which was just a bag, not including whatever the redhead planned to bring.
He swallowed at a faster rate now, and was chewing on a bar of chocolate before he even knew he had brought it out.
Matt chuckled at the other's impatience, straightening his clothes and breathing in deeply. He headed out the bedroom door, coming into the living room and shrugging on his vest. His cell phone, wallet, keys, a pack of cigarettes and his personally created handheld were all already stuffed into the pockets. "The plane leaves in an hour," he stated after checking a clock sitting obscurely under a table. It was cutting time a little short, but since what they had could be carried on he didn't think they would have to worry too much. He grabbed a messenger bag containing two laptops and enough electronics to get him set up and started on a neat little operation-- just for comfort's sake. Matt always had to have something somewhat elaborate set up.
Mello, however, was a little more worried about cutting it this close. He rolled his eyes at the things Matt had chosen to pack, but let it go as he stood impatiently at the door.
"Then let's go," he demanded, close to tapping his foot to make a point. He didn't, though, and contented himself with inhaling the first bar of chocolate of many to come on their trip. Not to mention in Japan as well, where he wasn't so sure there would be decent candy.
They seemed to be thinking upon the same lines, because Matt looked at Mello while he devoured the chocolate bar and raised a brow. "Do you like the chocolate in Japan?" He questioned casually as they walked down and out to the lobby. A certain sort of dull pain struck him when they got out to the parking lot and he saw his car-- he realized then that he would have to leave it in the U.S. during their little adventure overseas. Damn.
"I've never been to Japan," said Mello indifferently, now sucking more fervently on his candy, as though afraid it was the last he'd ever eat. Ironic.
Still, as they went on their way, he couldn't help but think that no matter what the Japanese chocolate tasted like, he'd eat it regardless. This was mostly because if he got needy enough, he'd eat anything that remotely tasted like chocolate.
"Really?" He questioned, looking a little more surprised at this. "Man, you'll love it. I'll have to take you back some time when we're not kidnapping the hottest star there." In more than one way, but hell... "Vacation." He chuckled at the thought of taking Mello on anything remotely relaxing and shook his head. "Asian chicks are so hot." He commented off-handedly as he set his laptop in the backseat of the car, pulling out his keys. He, now, figured out that he was adept at handling the car with one hand as he was with two-- and with one hand he could do this awesome twist thing with the wheel... Evidently, Matt wasn't too worried anymore.
"Right, sure," he said, referring to both comments: the one about the vacation and the crack about Takada. Not that Mello really cared about what Matt said about her; it was just obnoxious that he was rambling about hot chicks when they were about to go somewhere and do something of the utmost importance. Not to mention....
He slipped into the passenger's seat, leaning back to let him do and drive however he wished.
Matt shut up and drove after he made the ingenious deduction that Mello did not appreciate his little cracks very much and that he probably was already stressed enough since they were going to Japan to kidnap Takada... so he didn't say anything else and simply let the other be as he drove. After a while, though, Matt couldn't stand the silence. He had often tried to ignore Mello for several days on end, but always, the quiet got to be too much for hi. Now was no different, even if he wasn't angry with the other or anything. "I think you'll like Japanese chocolate too... Ever had pocky? That's Japanese.. and has chocolate.."
"Nope," said Mello smoothly. "I've never had pocky." Not that he ever had time to experiment with new candies. Chocolate bars were one thing, since he could just get it and get out. Trying foreign candies, however, probably took a moment's time out from life to try. The only time he had ever had such time was in Wammy's, and even then he had no taste for anything but straight chocolate, which was predictably good. And so, he was content with his constant supply of milk chocolate and the occasional dark chocolate.
"Huh, really. It's pretty good." For a while when Matt was younger, he liked to have pocky and hold it like a cigarette. Where he got it from, he wasn't sure... It probably was Linda, back at Wammy's now that he thought about it a little. "We'll have to get you some when we're there." He mused as though they were really taking a vacation. Too bad they weren't.
Mello leaned back a little farther, sucking on his bottom lip before languidly deciding to polish off the remainder of his candy. Maybe if they had time he'd get some, just to estrange himself from the kidnapping a little bit, make things seem reasonably normal. Not that he was much too normal to begin with. Well, what was normal in someone else's eyes.
"Maybe," he mused, the last 'e' sound trailing off with the city scenery that was passing too quickly for comfort.
Matt was glad to hear that the other was even possibly up for holding onto some semblance of the norm-- at least, normal for them. Nothing had ever been normal for them, not since the days before Wammy's... For Matt, that had been about eight years, tops. For Mello, well, Matt didn't think he knew. He might've forgotten if Mello had ever even told him... "Good, we'll get some." He stated decisively like Mello had wholly agreed.
He cracked an eye at the other, grinning surreptitiously.
"You're funny, you know that?" the blonde remarked, unsure where this came from. Funny in the obnoxious way, surely, though undoubtedly amusing. Another reason why he kept the other around. Loyalty and entertainment. The list was just growing.
Matt quirked a brow at the other, daring to take his eyes off the roade for just a moment to peer questioningly at Mello from behind his goggles. "Funny?" He repeated incredulously, never having considered himself as such. Witty on a stretch-- more often than not a drunken stretch-- but funny... no. "If you say so," he stated as he felt the corner of his lips rise in something of a half-smile.
Soon, they pulled into the long-term parking lot of the airport, Matt choosing a space as close as possible to keep from having to walk too far, but reasonably tucked away so no one would try to hotwire his fancy sports car and drive it away. Of course, he had better precautions than most people... but he best stick to old school methods too, just in case.
Once the car had been parked and the ignition killed, Mello took no time to hop out of the car, slamming the door behind him with unnecessary force. He retrieved his jacket from the bag, holding off putting it on until later. Still, though, he slung it over his shoulder along with his bag to ensure he could slip it on as soon as they surpassed airport security. Unfortunately, he didn't know which flight they were taking, so he would leave that aspect to Matt.
Matt led them through the airport with startling ease-- there weren't too many people milling out and about, that being, for an airport. It was plenty crowded but they had clearly avoided the rush hour, seeing as they could still see what was going on around them. They were held up a little at the carry on screening-- Matt had forgotten about the metal clasps on his bandages that set off the detectors and had had an interesting time trying to explain why he was still traveling when he ought to, technically, be in a hospital. Nevertheless, by the time they found their gate (D16), Matt was in good spirits.
Not only that, but they had made it with at least fifteen minutes to spare, which in turn made Mello in good spirits. Well, at least as good as Mello could be in, considering that he wasn't exactly a good-natured person. He looked up at the screen. 'To Tokyo' it said, neon letters glittering over the businessmen and vacationers that were sitting in the gate. For all the trouble they had gone through, which was less than anticipated, prospects looked clear.
Despite the daunting future of a kidnapping.
So far, things were looking good; Matt was quite pleased to know that this might just be setting a precedent of things for the future. That was something that they damn well better appreciate if it really was going to end up meaning smooth sailing. "Seems kinda unreal sitting up there like that, huh?" He questioned, following Mello's gaze at the neon, digital letters. They were really going to Tokyo.
"Kinda," said Mello, still staring, mimicking the manner in which Matt had said this word.
Then, he marched forward into the mass that was waiting around, but decided against sitting down, since it seemed like a slowing down if they were going to go fast from here on out. Full speed ahead. He frowned at this phrase in relation to what they were planning on doing, and shook it out of his head.
Matt let the other's gibe go, remembering other times that Mello had poked fun at his lingo or lax sense of speaking. Remembering that these sorts of taunts were just Mello's way eased any annoyance that might have surfaced. Really, though, Matt honestly didn't care.
Soon, the employees started loading first class-- Matt hadn't bothered to sit down because he knew that with fifteen minutes to spare, the plane was going to star boarding any second now. "C'mon," he stated, nudging Mello in the side to catch his attention. "That's us." Matt couldn't help but to at least make the ride comfortable.
At this, Mello was mildly surprised, though he supposed he should have predicted it. He thought, in Matt's laziness, that he would buy whatever tickets were easiest to get a hold of. Then again, the other was none to stingy with his money, it probably not being all his. He was rich, for a gamer that sat on his ass all day with his omnipresent hard-on for technology. "Right," the blonde assented, following along.
First class to Tokyo was easy enough to get a hand on, the trip being expensive to begin with-- short notice and round trip made it sort of hard, but Matt had managed. He hadn't cared too much about the price either, because Mello was right. This money wasn't his-- currently, he and Mello were nonexistent, wealthy, European men.
Matt found their seats towards the rear of the first class cabin, immediately claiming the window seat and tucking his carry on underneath the chair in front of him. He wiggled around in his seat a little bit, clearly enjoying the space. "Nice, huh?"
Mello surveyed the seats for a moment before stowing his bag under the seat in front as well and pulling on his jacket. He sat down as well, reclining before deeming the seats comfortable and then nodding in general agreement.
"Sure," he said, rooting around in his pocket for a pair of sunglasses, which he decided against putting on for now. That could wait until they landed. What wouldn't wait, however, was another chocolate bar.
Decidedly comfortable, Matt crookedly leaned back against the wall of the plane and the side of his seat, nestled quite pleasantly in that corner. Although he had somehow managed to wrestle his seatbelt on, he had one leg propped up against the seat, the toe of his boot resting against his side of the arm rest. "Loosen up, will you? We're just going to Japan, not the end of the world."
"What's the difference?" he said, a twisted smirk spreading over his face. He had a feeling that nervous habit would drive him to somehow eat at least half of the chocolate he had tucked under the seat. This was saying something, since he had stockpiled a hell of a lot of the candy in the past few days.
Stretching again, Mello neglected his seatbelt for the time being.
"You need to get laid," Matt told Mello disapprovingly, shaking his head at the chocolate that he was sure that Mello would desecrate before the plane even lifted. Of course, there was no saying that getting Mello laid would loosen him up any, but hell, it worked for Matt. Maybe Mello would be somewhat less stressed out if he had a sexual outlet too. Matt ought to introduce him to some Japanese chicks. Maybe he'd like that. Probably not.
Mello turned to stare at the other for a moment, expression caught between exasperation and irritation. Leave it to Matt to suggest such a thing.
"You may think that fucking everything with a vagina is relaxing, but not everyone does," he said, examining the controls on the ceiling blankly. An air conditioner, a light, and a call button for the flight attendants. He doubted he'd use any of those during this flight.
Matt shrugged. "Have you ever had a really good orgasm, Mello? 'Cause you sound like you haven't." He chuckled at his own little stab at Mello's sex life-- or rather, lack of one-- and closed his eyes. It just occurred to him that he hadn't taken a pain killer in the morning, and, like an idiot, hadn't thought to pack any. Oh well. He could hold out until they got to Japan; if not, maybe the flight would give him aspirin or something.
Mello, however, was not amused.
"You're a jackass," he said blatantly, finally pulling on his seatbelt and comfortably drowning his anxieties in chocolate--and lots of it. The blonde mentally ticked off all of the things he'd need to do in Japan: find a place to hide out until they got Takada, rent a vehicle or two, and some other things he'd have to rehearse when they arrived across the ocean.
Ah, Matt should have figured that Mello had a stick shoved up his ass. One day, he really would have to show Mello a good time, one way or another. "So are you," he answered deftly, without missing a beat. Soon, an informational video started playing about all the safety regulations of the plane-- no one paid attention to it, particularly in the first class. In due time, the plane taxied down the runway and lifted off, making Matt somewhat queasy. He preferred traveling by car, thanks.
Ignoring the immature comeback, Mello attempted to also ignore the plane's ascent. It wasn't going down the runway that irked him as much as the actual task of getting up into the air. That was where he was uneasy. And yet, he didn't show it in his body language; his face was stoic, determinedly fixed on the seat in front of him while one foot shifted slowly, impatiently.
It was going to be a long trip.
Matt, whom was lacking in the sleep department from the previous night's anxiety, decided that he was going to catch up on the plane. It was odd how he didn't really seem to be perturbed while he was inching slowly to Japan, but more so when he was lying in the comfort of his own bed at home. Perhaps the irony of being so humble was what really threw him off. "You should sleep," he commented to Mello, cracking an eye open at the other momentarily. "You'll worry yourself to death if you don't."
He shot Matt a glance, one that clearly didn't like his worry publicly spoken of, but he eventually decided against saying anything derogatory, and instead gruffly nodded.
"Maybe," Mello murmured. "Soon." Because he knew that he would, if not for the sake of sleeping, then to pass the time. How long would that kill? A few hours? That was the only thing he had, since he had no other form of entertainment with him.
Matt rolled his eyes at the other's dodgy sort of comment. He reached into his pocket and tossed his handheld at Mello. "Here. Start a new game-- save it over mine and I'll kill you. You can make your own file though, so..." Matt trailed off with a shrug-- he knew that Mello wasn't exactly the video gaming type, but playing through Matt's personally designed game had to be better than staring into space, didn't it?
Mello looked at the game for a minute, then at Matt, and then turned it on. No, he wasn't the video gaming type, but hell, why not? He had nothing to lose in playing a game, except maybe his dignity, which wasn't much to begin with. Ignoring the warnings not to turn on electronics until the plane reached the pinnacle of its ascension, he attempted to figure out the game, with a perpetual frown on his face.
Matt chuckled at Mello's difficulty, wondering if he ought to help the other out; he, after all, had created and scripted the game... But he decided against it in the end. He had some sleep to catch up to and they were flying smoothly. Maybe if Mello was still bored after he woke up, he'd give his friend a hand in some urban-ninja, zombie-slaying tactics. Trust Matt to come up with such a strange game.
And unfortunately for Mello, he never got past the first level. Something about pixelized characters trying to slay zombies and jump around erroneous cities. He found it stupid and mind numbing, and yet he couldn't stop playing. This must be why Matt was so enraptured by stupid things
Eventually, though, he fell asleep, game face down on his chest, hands clasped over it.
After an hour or two, Matt woke rather unwillingly from his nap. They had hit some turbulence, but he wasn't sure that was what had woken him up. He was trying not to worry, because, like he told Mello and like his mother had once told him worrying just made trouble you didn't need. Despite that, though... Matt was worrying. He glanced to the blonde sleeping beside him with the video game propped against his chest. He smiled faintly at the slightly out-of-place sight before turning his attention to the window and the white clouds with blue seas passing by beyond it.
Mello stirred and woke about an hour after Matt, sitting up abruptly to knock the game onto his thighs. He clumsily picked it up, staring at it for a moment before remembering why he had it. He looked blearily over at Matt and pulled his hood up, wishing that he could fall back asleep.
After a minute's wait, however, he realized that it wasn't going to happen, and therefore dug out another bar of chocolate.
"Morning, Sunshine." Matt told the other, even though it definitely wasn't morning time anymore and Mello was about the farthest from Sunshine as you could get. That was exactly why Matt was calling the other Sunshine, though, the pure irony was great-- kind of like Mello taking the pink gun in the arcade and forcing him to be Peach in Mario Party... "Sleep well?"
Mello grunted at the naming, but took it with a fair amount of patience. The redhead thought he was so witty, didn't he?
"Considering I'm on my way to Japan with a moron, about to face certain death, my sleep was pretty good," he said, stretching slowly as he broke another piece of his candy off between his teeth and laved at it until it disintegrated under his tongue.
Matt wrinkled his nose a bit at the comment about his being a moron. "I am not," he objected, taking his game back from Mello now that he remembered that the other wasn't sleeping anymore and he could safely take it without the possibility of Mello waking up. He turned it on and resumed his game, talking while he played. Over the years, the red-haired gamer had gotten quite good at the whole talk and play thing. "Oh come on. You said you didn't think we're going to die." Matt pointed out.
"I only said that to make you feel better," said Mello, grinning slyly to where it was impossible to tell if he was serious or not. To be truthful, he went either way; he didn't know what to believe. Sure, he was sure that if he put his mind to it, he could probably kick Near and Kira's ass, but this was real life....just believing that you would come out on top didn't guarantee it to be so.
Matt shot Mello a glare in time to see him make that sly expression. He growled, and would have thrown something at the other if he'd had anything on hand, but currently, all he had were things he didn't want to throw. "They should make smoking sections in planes," he grumbled, now reminded of the packet of cigarettes sitting, crumpled, in his pocket and waiting to be smoked. First thing when he got out of the airport, he swore... "Did you really?" He asked after a while, realizing that he hadn't been able to tell if Mello was kidding or not.
And this was what Mello hated: when Matt insisted on pursuing a topic that was meant to be left alone. His grin turned swiftly into a scowl, and he leaned his cheek against a gloved knuckle disinterestedly.
"Probably," he said, never one to give a straight answer when it was unnecessary.
Matt didn't push after that-- maybe he got the picture that Mello didn't want to talk about it, maybe Mello just pissed him off. It was hard to tell, but either way, he simply went on to play his video game. Quiet zingpowclashclangcrackleboom noises ensued. Of course, Matt, being Matt, couldn't stay shut up for long. "How far did you get?" He questioned Mello, referring to the game even though he didn't give any indication of it
"Pardon?"
Obviously, Mello didn't get the hint, that was, until he looked from the handheld to Matt, and then made the connection. He had the grace to appear unabashed, though he had a vague feeling that they both knew how well he had done on the game. "I didn't even make it past the first fucking level." Losing in any form didn't sit well with the blonde.
Matt grinned. The first level, actually, was the hardest. The second one was a piece of cake-- in fact; you could defeat it in two moves. He didn't have the audacity to say 'I didn't think so', well, not on a plane. If they had been anywhere else… But Matt didn't want to risk the chance of Mello punching him in the face and starting a scene while they were over the Pacific Ocean. "If you get bored later, I'll help you out. The first level's the hardest one until about fifteen."
Being completely oblivious to what Matt could and would have said if the circumstances would have been different, Mello remained placid, nodding to the offer though he wasn't about to take him up on it. In fact, he didn't plan to. Maybe he'd sleep some more, or weather away the time by filling himself up on chocolate and thinking. Yes, thinking was the best way to boredom.
"Sure, Matt," he drawled.
"You're such a hard ass, Mello," he told his companion with a little shake of his head. He knew that Mello probably wouldn't take him up on the offer-- one, it involved video games, and two, it involved Matt's help. Help with the Kira case was one thing, but Matt was pretty sure that help over a little video game was an entirely different matter.
"Thank you," he said, not entirely listening. His eyes were forcibly closed, Mello wanting to fall asleep again. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that he'd never fall asleep at this rate, and would probably sit their absently going through his chocolate until the plane landed and he was lulled out of his stupor by his companion.
Maybe he'd yield to some good conversation; that was rare, however, since most conversations he had with Matt were either awkward or irritating.
Within the next few hours, the gamer had managed to play his way to level twenty-three, the, in his mind, legendary level of the zombie dragon. Dumb, but highly challenging. In fact, most of the levels were that way... Matt saved his game and looked out the window, only to find that the clouds had disappeared and that they were at a low enough altitude that he could see more land than he could see clouds. "Hey Mello, looks like we're gonna land soon," he commented like he would every now and again in an attempt to start civil conversation. Mostly, though, he gave up pretty quickly because Mello was grouchy. Someone was on their period.
Mello hazily looked up and out the window, sitting up as, sure enough, the speaker came on jabbering about the fair weather in Tokyo and how they should be touching down in five minutes. Clearly satisfied, he chewed more slowly on his current chocolate bar, finding that he had cleaned out half of the stash in his carry-on. It seemed as though he would have to at least test the Japanese chocolate, and he silently prayed that it would be decent.
Matt glanced to the other's half-empty carry on after stowing at way his game in his own. He chuckled and shook his head. "Don't worry, Mel', I'm sure the chocolate in Japan will be fine." He teased, knowing full well what the other was thinking. With half his stash gone, there was only one thing. "Besides, I think they have some weird kind of chocolate that's got bubbles in it. Popular stuff as far as I've heard."
Mello couldn't help but to wince.
"Bubbles in it?" he repeated incredulously, pulling his bag onto his lap and staring and Matt as though daring him to be kidding. Somehow, though, he knew he wasn't. "Do you know if they have just the ordinary kind?"
"Air bubbles, not real bubbles," Matt added on, although he was pretty sure that his companion knew what he was talking about and was just as flabbergasted anyways. "Probably. I never really looked around at chocolate or anything," he stated, even though he had. Mostly, he had looked at the chocolate stock in foreign countries for the hell of it; he'd always missed Mello when he was gone and he had strange ways of coping.
"They damn well better have some," said Mello, just as the plane touched down, rattling busily as it sped down the tarmac and eventually slowed to a pleasant drift. He shifted uncomfortably, impatiently in his seat and unclasped his belt just before the attendants instructed them to do so, and then lifted his bag over his shoulder. Once the plane came to a stop, he shot up into a standing position and pushed into the line. There was no way in hell he was going to lag behind a bunch of old people and Japanese businessmen.
Matt was far more languid about getting out of his seat and up into the aisle-- he was, after all, handling two laptops and all their wires, including random other bits and pieces in his bag. That, and he was just plain lazy. "Jeeze, chill." He remarked to Mello as he managed to push out behind him, not wanting to lose the blonde. There was a fifty percent chance that the other wouldn't wait for him, after all.
"No," said Mello, staring out his window now, chocolate bar being held aloft by his front teeth. "I don't."
It seemed as though his light-hearted mood had sort of melted away. Then again, it always did when Matt chose to talk about things that were depressing or evocative. And Mello never put on a depressed facade when he felt that way; he just turned to either anger or indifference. This was the time for the latter
Matt seemed to get pensive while Mello was busy being indifferent-- ordinarily, he, too, would feign the uncaring sort of attitude, but he didn't think that he felt up to at the moment. He genuinely missed the old days, and he genuinely wished that L was alive again. Mainly, he only wanted this because Mello could possibly running headlong into death. He stayed quiet.
And, being the Mello that didn't much partake in conversation, let alone strike it up, he remained silent as well. The blonde finished off the chocolate piece by piece, which was proving to take a little while since the stuff was so waxy and was closer to dark chocolate than milk chocolate. Only he would have paid attention, or even cared, about something like the wax content; he did have a particular way with his candy.
Eventually, the silent taxi cab pulled up to the hotel that they would be calling home for the next however long. Matt got out and looked at it apprehensively as he swung his bag over his shoulder. "Well, this is it." He commented before heading inside to check in. The place was nice enough, not too large, and none too fancy. Their room, be this inconvenient or entertaining, had a window overlooking the busy street outside.
Mello stared at it passively, lugging his bag out of the taxi and following Matt inside, looking around again to watch the Japanese signs and most of all the people, who, though they weren't looking at him, still gave him a bad feeling. Unfortunately, this was the general impression the Japanese made on him, and would last the entire trip. He insisted mentally that it wasn't a racial thing, but he wasn't too sure.
Matt, then, found the elevator with a little trouble. There were two of them tucked in a discreet hallway, so he couldn't be blamed. He and Mello had the fortune of an elevator to themselves, and Matt momentarily entertained the thought of exercising a certain cliché, but the elevator dinged and the doors slid open on the twelfth floor he could decide. Maybe on the way down.
Oblivious to whatever plans Matt may or may not have had, Mello strode onto the floor, but with no hurry. After all, he wasn't the one with the room key, and not only that, but he didn't even know where the room was. So, he allowed Matt to remain in front, carelessly crumpling the chocolate he had gone through and tossing the wrapper in a bin in the hallway. Convenient.
Their room happened to be pretty close to the elevator, which was nice, because Matt was about ready to fall on his face and call it a day. He did, though, manage to unlock the door and walk inside, putting his things down and claiming the single bed by immediately sprawling out on it with a customary, relaxed sigh. "Still giving me the silent treatment?" He coudln't remember if Mello was mad at him, or just being quiet, but other way... it was a silent treatment.
"I would if I had anything to say," replied the other curtly, dropping his things off by the door and immediately rifling through it for a moment before confirming something and marching over to a chair that was snuggly pressed against the opposite wall.
Maybe, if Mello did have something to say, he would have spoken; it wasn't as though he was mad at Matt for any particular reason.
"Whatcha looking for?" He questioned Mello as the other rummaged through his belongings, his head half lifted from the bed. He didn't seem to committed to getting an answer, though, because without much protest, he laid back down and continued to stare at the speckled ceiling. It seemed highly unreal to him that they were in Japan...
"Just checking..." he affirmed. "I want to make sure everything made it here."
If it hadn't, they would have to go through a lot of hell trying to recover what was lost. Buying things in Japan was a lot more dangerous than in America, since Mello knew his ins and outs there far better than he ever could here. Not to mention that he didn't speak the language.
"So now that we're all set, you're going to be emo in a corner?" Matt pointed out as he blinked over at the other apprehensively. "When exactly are we gonna do this, anyway?" He asked, figuring that it would have to be soon, because he didn't really think that Mello wanted to stay in Japan for too long. Really, he wanted to get this over with and go back to America. Sure, Japanese chicks were hot... but anything could be happening to his car.
Mello leaned over the hotel provided desk, which he predicted to house a network cable and a bible. Two of the oddest things you'd find occupying the same place.
"Takada will be at NHN Monday morning," he said loftily. "We're going to move there." And that settled it. The day after tomorrow was when they were going in, and once the elder's mind was made up, there was no changing it. Besides, he had scoped out this particular venue for days.
Matt considered this for a moment, not that there was really anything to consider, but he liked to contemplate the idea of this suicide mission a bit to make him feel like he had given it a little more thought than 'I trust Mello, and therefore I'm just going to go with it.' He tried to stay steadfast to this idea, and for the most part, it worked. His mind was dubious but his being was set in stone. "Well, if this works... Cheers to you, Mel'."
Mello nodded vaguely, so much so that it was barely recognizable as anything more than a small incline of the head.
"Yeah, definitely," he said, eyelids drooping. It wasn't as though he was tired or anything; it was just that he was past the point of worry or anticipation, and all that was left was a monotonous sort of expression that was drained of all discernible emotion.
"Sit with me?" he questioned, noticing that there was an empty space just to the left side of a wrinkle in the blanket beside his hip. Or maybe it was his right. He was a bit directionally challenged. He just didn't feel right, though, with him lying sprawled on an unfamiliar bed with Mello being all melancholy in the corner. He wanted to at least renew some sense of something other than complete and utter misery.
He tried to think of some reason to reject this proposal, but figured he had nothing else to do, and no real reason not to. Besides, the bed was much more comfortable than the chair. That was a given in all hotels, no matter what country you're in.
"Sure," he assented, standing up and sliding onto the opposite side of the bed, drumming his fingers on the bed spread before lying spread-eagle against the headboard.
Matt was thinking. Thinking about what, he wasn't sure. So, reluctantly, he was forced to stay quiet and thusly stare at the ceiling. He wanted to talk about Wammy's, he wanted to talk about their possibly dying, he wanted to talk about Mello and his desire to prove himself number one... he wanted to talk about everything. But he had nothing to talk about, if that made any sense. "Why do you think we kissed?" He questioned suddenly, the query having been on his tongue, but he'd never let it out-- until just then. Whether it was a momentary lapse of mind or a completely intentional thing, he wasn't so sure.
Mello, whose face was incredibly passive and uninterested, suddenly changed when he heard this topic being addressed. He looked over at the other, wondering, though it had always been at the back of both of their minds, why he had brought up such a topic. For a moment, he decided to put a minimal amount of thought into the question, as uncomfortable as the subject was. Soon enough, he shrugged slightly and sighed. "I don't know," he muttered. "Impulse?" It seemed like a reasonable enough explanation to him.
"Longest impulse I ever had," he answered noncommittally, staring off at the ceiling still before he finally closed his eyes in thought. He knew damn well that it hadn't exactly been impulse that had made him kiss Mello, but it was something like it. A sort of overwhelming, somewhat sudden desire, but he could have helped it if he really wanted to. Apparently, though, he hadn't really wanted to. A devilish smile grew on his lips. "Did you like it?" His question was serious... but it was hard to keep a straight face.
Now Mello was staring at the other, one eyebrow raised artfully at the offending grin. The answer here, he would assume, was obvious, though he was sure Matt would have asked whether he knew or not. "If I hated it, I wouldn't have continued," he said, closing his eyes determinedly and folding his arms to keep from outwardly displaying the little bit of embarrassment that was welling up in his gut. Fantastic. At least he knew he had some emotional self-control, even if he still had to suffer the knowledge that the question incited something shameful in him.
Matt couldn't help but to chuckle a little, having a tantalizing urge to ruffle Mello's hair and berate him and kiss him on the cheek or something. Doing so would probably result in being shot again, though, and he wasn't so keen on that happening so soon. Maybe next week. "Aww, Mello liked kissing me," he teased, though, his nature taking over his common sense as per usual. "We'll have to do it again some time. You know. Lighten your mood."
"Yeah. Right." This was said as more of a scowl than anything, his face amazingly retaining its cream colour. Still, 'yeah' and 'right' didn't seem to have the effect he intended, and Mello did, after all, have to have the last word. "Maybe if you're good." As in, them kissing again was probably a thing that Matt would enjoy, and letting Matt have what he enjoyed was pretty much against Mello's nature if it was something he got nothing out of. Apparently, he got nothing out of kissing the redhead. Absolutely nothing...
"Yeah?" He questioned, sitting up and peering at Mello with a bemused smile on his face. He was playing the game. "So you're saying I'm not?" He airily questioned, leaning towards Mello a bit for absolutely no reason at all. He was just messing with the blonde and he knew it. Playing a game. "You know, first rule of kissing is that you don't enjoy bad kissers." He pointed out.
"You see, I put a pretty wide connotation to what I just said," he said loftily, the corner of his lip turning up unconsciously. "Do you have a guilty conscience about your kissing?" Mello opened his eyes again to look over at Matt, who had become nearer than he had been a few seconds ago. Somehow, the blonde could have cared less. "Or do you just automatically assume that's what I'm talking about?"
Mello had caught him there. "One track mind," he stated deftly in a manner that might have been apologetic if he were someone other than Matt. He, however, was most definitely Matt. The red hair and goggles proved it if his smarmy manner didn't. "No guilty conscience here." He chuckled. "Do you?"
Mello shrugged for a second time within the hour, about nothing in particular. "I haven't had time to develop one," he said, leaning even further against the headboard. The events of later on kept him thinking about things other than the conversation, though a fair space in his mind devoted to the subject kept him remotely focused.
Matt noticed that Mello wasn't all entirely with him-- actually, he just expected Mello to be. He didn't really notice anything; he'd just known other long enough not to care. "Really?" He commented, smiling faintly. He hadn't known the other long enough to know this little tidbit. He had noticed Mello had never really been girl-ambitious back at Wammy's, but he'd accounted that to that there were no attractive girls, and maybe Mello was gay. He'd never say that out loud, though. "So I take it you don't get around? When was the last time you got laid, then?"
Alright, there was no point in lying, or avoiding the question. There was no shame in being a virgin, was there? Probably not, but Matt would take any opportunity to mess with him. Why, he just realized he didn't know. "Never," he said, without so much as breaking a sweat. Mello wasn't concerned with trivial things like getting laid at every chance, or scoring hot chicks. Matt, obviously, was. And he had never considered himself gay before, nor did he really contemplate his being straight. Sexual orientation had really never mattered to him before.
Matt burst out laughing. He wasn't exactly sex-crazed, nor did sex actually mean anything to him, but it was a pastime and a sort of universal, tacit competition. To know that Mello hadn't ever played the game just made him giddy. "Who was your first kiss, then?" He continued, feeling a fleeting sort of ridiculous wish that he'd be Mello's first. He couldn't really picture Mello snogging anyone for real for real, so he was guessing that his chances were pretty good.
And they were. Mello silently figured that he could probably get pretty much anyone he wanted, even if this was a narcissistic deduction. He wasn't unattractive; quite the contrary. But he hadn't kissed anyone for real, at least, not with the intensity that he had done with Matt. Maybe he had had a few small, meaningless kisses when he was younger, but again, they were meaningless. "How would you define a kiss?" he asked plainly, now clearly open and unconcerned about this whole thing.
"Depends on which kind," he stated with the certainty of an expert. He, too, could get mostly anyone he wanted and he'd proved it on more than one occasion. He didn't doubt Mello's ability either-- well. He might've been a bit of a hard ass, but with a couple drinks in him, who knew what could happen? He had the looks. "There's the I Just Want to Fuck You kind, but... I don't know. I 'm talking about the kind where you kiss someone just because you like them in some way or another."
A frown creased his brow, and his head fell back to make contact with the wood behind him. His previous kisses, the ones that occurred when he was in Wammy's, were only experiments. He had never bothered to like someone. He liked L, of course, but that was more of an admiration. Matt....well, he could admit friendship with Matt, if nothing else. "I guess...." He didn't want to really tell the redhead that his kiss was his first (and possibly last), but didn't he just decide that lying was futile? "I suppose I've never kissed anyone like that before you." Wasn't that admitting that he liked Matt, in some way or another?
In some way or another.
Matt grinned, but he gave no further indication of his elated state. Instead, he just turned around and kissed Mello. He kissed him quickly and pulled back, seeming to think for a second before looking satisfied. "Yeah, I like you." He concluded feebly, because he'd forgotten why he'd done it. Something about just wanting to kiss Mello again, for the hell of it, or something.
"Oh yeah?" He said, getting kissed for the third time by Matt. Now, it wasn't an unforgivable offense anymore. It was something he was used to, and rather liked, though that had never been said in a straight answer. He kind of smiled at the contact that had become suddenly familiar to him. Kind of. "You know what, Matt?" He paused a minute, wondering what exactly he was about to say. "I like you too."
Matt beamed. He was really like a dog, waiting for his master's hand of approval, and hell, he had it now. He was a friend to Mello, which they had tacitly agreed last week, Mello admitted that he wasn't just a minion that he could toss aside, Mello liked him. Hell, this was worth the trouble. Almost dying seemed like nothing now; and yet, he couldn't explain why Mello's appreciation meant so much to him. "Good." He stated finally, daring to press his lips to the other's again, this time with a kiss that wasn't so chaste.
Perhaps Mello shouldn't have been so surprised by this next kiss, considering that he was supposed to have known Matt's timing in kissing more than anything. But his eyes still widened slightly by the sudden contact, his immediate reaction being one of retreating into the headboard. It didn't bend for him; instead, it remained stiff and Mello's skull met it with a resounding thud. Ouch.
He pulled back long enough to grin at Mello, chuckling disapprovingly. "N00b." He stated matter-of-factly, shifting his hand to Mello's other side to better hold himself up. The added strain hurt his chest a little more than slightly, but he'd learned to deal with it over the course of the week. "Are you really that bad?"
"Oh, no, thanks, Matt," drawled Mello sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I'm just fine. Don't worry about me." He had just whacked his head against the unyielding wood behind him, and Matt didn't seem to care. Of course, he wasn't hurt in the slightest. He should have known that he'd get another condescending remark from the redhead; that was just to be expected.
"I'm sure you could handle it, your head's hard enough." Matt pointed out in all seriousness, although there was still that smirk playing at his lips. "You didn't go too far. I'll have enough time to worry about you day after tomorrow." He pointed out, his grin melting into something of a grim smile as he deemed it necessary to back off and relax again. He, however, took the liberty of using Mello's thigh as a pillow.
Mello grumbled characteristically, though he was merciful enough to keep his words too soft to be heard. Instead, he looked down at Matt as though amused, amused by the fact that the gamer would be presumptuous enough to assume that using his thigh as a pillow was okay. "Comfortable?" He asked. No, more like demanded, though his voice was light enough. He wasn't mad, just intrigued by the fact that Matt thought he could take Mello's confession as a sign that he could do whatever he pleased.
Or maybe he was just feeling audacious. "Very." Or maybe he just wanted Mello to kiss him, damn it. He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with the other, though, and he figured that this was suitable punishment. Or maybe he was just too lazy to go back to his side of the bed. Matt had enough reasons to make quite a puzzle out of him if he wanted to; he never seemed to have a set motivation. "Why, aren't you?"
"Not particularly." He decided to abandon the sarcasm for the time being, though he was more than capable of bringing it back in any situation. "Could I convince you to get your head off of my leg?" He thought about it for a minute. "Then again, I could always make you get off me." Despite the fact that Matt was still recovering a bullet wound, Mello was not past shoving him off.
"I'd really object to that," Matt stated, although he knew it didn't really matter. He knew better than anyone that Mello was speaking the truth too, and this nearly convinced him to get off. He might have tried bargaining for a kiss, but he didn't really want to be rejected and he had a feeling that rejection might just happen. So he shifted a little and laid his head against the bed instead. "Happy now, Princess?"
He growled. "You're not going to let that go, are you?" he asked, reasoning that he'd have to get some revenge sooner or later. Mello then remembered his last form of revenge and where it had got him. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Predominantly a good thing, since he supposed that it had earned him his first kiss. However, it wasn't clear whether Matt was the ideal candidate for such a thing.
Matt would have been highly offended if he could have heard that last bit, but as things were, he only smiled and shook his head. "Not a chance. You'll carry it to your grave... Princess." He threw in, just to make sure that Mello got the point before he smirked slightly and threw up his momentary white flag. Truce, please, he didn't want to get mauled. Or sat upon. Either way, Mello's revenge was not exactly something that a sane person looked forward to.
"You're an ass." No, no revenge today, though he wasn't just going to keep letting the redhead use that degrading nickname for long. Someday, he'd get back at Matt to where he'd never forget it, though this time he resolved to keep guns out of the picture. He figured they caused too much trouble, anyway. Well, in this context.
Well, guns had almost cost Matt his life twice, both directly and indirectly, so he would have to say that he'd agree. Any revenge but guns, thanks. No revenge at all, preferably. "I know," he answered Mello with something of a sly smirk playing on his lips. "So are you." They were well-suited. No wonder they were friends.
"Mhmmm."
This sound neither confirmed nor denied the fact that Mello was an ass as well, but simply acknowledged that, yes, he was still listening despite the fact that he had nothing to say to the other. A mutual silence was better than one that was unsure on either end, not that the blonde doubted Matt in the slightest.
"Get some sleep," Matt suggested after a while of quiet, not having any idea what time it was or if it was time to get any sleep or not, but given the nature of their schedules and the vigorous lifestyle they led, Matt would have to say that any time that would allow at least a consecutive hour of sleep was a good time. "Or are you just going to sit there and stare?"
Mello rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, as though in mock thought, and then looked back down to where Matt was.
"I was thinking about it," he said. This comment, as light as it sounded, wasn't wholly a jest. There wasn't long before his plan would be set into motion, and until then they would still be working hard. Well, at least he would. Matt would probably stick around the hotel, since Mello had a pretty good "if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself" mindset, and he'd feel uneasy about sending the redhead out to do important things such as this.
Of course, because Matt was completely incompetent. "Well, you might want to stop thinking and just do it." He rolled his eyes, decidedly going to sleep. Mello could deal with whatever he wanted to himself, and Matt could rest like a normal person who had just recovered from a serious infection over a gunshot wound. He wasn't going to let that go, even if Mello deemed it not such a big deal. One day, Matt would shoot Mello and see how he felt when he thought that he was going to spontaneously combust every other hour.
Even if Mello was conscious of this plan, he wouldn't have been overly concerned. After all, Matt had never struck him as someone who would try and harm him in any way. On the contrary.
But he didn't sleep yet. He stayed awake, thinking, thinking about everything to do tomorrow, about anything at all, until his mind was just too worn to think anymore until its synapses were sufficiently healed. And so he followed suit, falling asleep almost immediately as soon as his eyes fell shut.
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A/N: Why hello there. It's been forever since I've updated this.