"I won't be gone long, Matt. This isn't like last time."

"Will you fucking relax? I'll be fine."

"Breathe. Seriously, Matt. You're not actually worried, are you? God, you're such a wimp."

Click-click-click-click. Matt's fingers flew over the buttons on his video game. he watched dazedly as the little characters' pixeled images jumped across the tiny lit-up screen. Suddenly the game was no longer responding to the buttons. Matt stared at the screen, not comprehending the words flashing in his face: GAME OVER.

"Stupid piece of shit," he muttered, chucking the game at the wall opposite the couch, even though it wasn't really the game he was mad at. An unhealthy-sounding crunch bounced back to him, and he regretted throwing it; hopefully it wasn't too broken. As if anything was beyond repair for a tech genius of his caliber.

He rolled off the couch and slouched into the kitchen, suddenly aware of his growling stomach; hunger was one of the few things that could drag a reaction out of him these days. Matt pulled open a cupboard at random. The first thing he saw was a stack of chocolate bars.

Mello.

Wrenching pain rammed through Matt's chest, almost knocking him to the ground. Mello. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the images rushing through his brain. He and Mello climbing the trees at Wammy's. Helping Mello steal chocolate from the kitchens. Inventing codes he'd bet even L himself couldn't crack.

It hadn't been as bad as this, the first time Mello left. Sure, it had been hell. The worst thing Matt had ever been through. Mello and Near, sent off on some crazy mission by Roger. Not a single word for three whole years. Matt had almost died. His best friend—no, his only friend, if he was being honest with himself—was gone for good, he was sure of it.

He'd even had dreams about Mello's return, for Christ's sake. He could see it now: Mello roaring back to Wammy's on that stupid motorcycle, skidding to a stop and spraying gravel all over Matt. Mello would jump off the bike, whip off his sunglasses, and smirk that insanely sexy smirk he'd somehow gained in the three years they'd been apart. In fact, suddenly just about everything about Mello would seem insanely sexy... and that, right there, was when Matt realized why he missed Mello so much.

Because, no matter what he kept telling himself, no matter how many times he repeated the opposite in his head like a mantra, trying to deny it, Matt knew the truth. He was in love with his best friend. He realized that the only reason he was still alive was because he was waiting for Mello to come back.

And then Mello had returned. Shortly past two in the morning, while Matt was rolling around his sheets, fighting another sleepless night. A knock on the window had pulled him from his bunk. He remembered every moment of it clearly, as if it were all happening again: seeing the blonde through the glass, hoping against hope that it wasn't just another hallucination. Tugging open the window, being greeted with a quiet, "Hey, Matt," and the half-smile, exactly as electrifying as he'd imagined.

And then he was throwing all his stuff into a backpack and climbing onto the back of the aforementioned stupid motorcycle behind Mello, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist, trying not to notice how sizzling flames seemed to rush through his veins every time they touched. Burying his face into Mello's shoulder blades, holding on for his life and his sanity as they tore up the pavement at nearly three times the legal speed. Not caring if he was flung from the back of the bike by the wind beating against him, knowing he could die happy now, having seen Mello one last time.

Finally ending up here, in this grungy, sparsely furnished apartment. But Matt hadn't cared at the time. He was with Mello; that was all he'd ever asked of life. "I'll take the couch, if you want the bed" was the only thing Mello had said since they walked through the door, but as the blonde collapsed face first onto the beat-up leather sofa without waiting for a response, Matt couldn't have been happier. He'd wandered into the only bedroom he could find and wrapped himself in the blankets that still smelled like Mello, and managed for the first time in months to get a decent night's sleep.

Mello had been gone when he woke up after noon the next day, but there'd been a note on the table. M, be back soon. M. he'd smiled, and went to the cupboards to find something to eat. But, just like now, all he'd found was chocolate.

Yanked unpleasantly back to the present, Matt slammed the cupboard door so hard that it almost popped off its hinges. Mello was gone. Again. Had been gone for almost three weeks now. Matt didn't know if he'd ever be back. Stupid bastard... he knows what it does to me... Matt wasn't sure if Mello even cared.

Of course he doesn't care about you, stupid. Matt's subconscious kicked in viciously. Why the hell would he ever fall for you? You're just a tool to him, useful when he needs something tech-related or someone to do the crap he doesn't feel like doing. And you're enough of a dumb ass that you actually do it. You think he feels anything for you? Then you're just as dumb as you look.

Matt walked absently back to the couch, patting his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out—"those stupid cancer sticks, you're gonna hack up a fucking lung and die in a pool of blood" was what Mello always liked to say—and stuck it in his mouth, falling backwards onto the sofa. He sighed, then stiffened. Was that the door he heard creaking? He stayed absolutely silent, thought about reaching for his gun, then thought the better of it; why live in this pain if someone wanted to end it for him? He relaxed again, no longer caring if someone was in the apartment unannounced.

Matt reached behind him to the table, feeling around for a lighter. His fingers didn't immediately encounter the one he knew he'd left there. Puzzled, he was about to sit up and turn to look for it when someone dangled it in front of his eyes.

"Looking for this?"

Matt whipped his head around, nearly twisting himself off the couch with the speed of his movement. Mello was standing just to the side of the table, holding the lighter in his fingertips. He smirked, then leapt lightly over the top of the couch, landing crouched over Matt's body, his face only inches away. Matt couldn't breathe.

"Funny, I would've pegged you for one smart enough to lock the damn door," Mello said, still smirking.

"I...I..." Matt couldn't think of anything to say. "I... I missed you, Mels."

The blonde's face softened, and a genuine smile replaced the sexy smirk. Somehow his smile was just as enticing. He tossed the lighter away suddenly, and flicked the cigarette out of Matt's mouth.

"Hey, I wasn't done with that," Matt complained, still trying to distract himself from the fact that Mello was practically straddling him, something he'd fantasized about for about as long as he could remember.

"Are you sure?" Mello asked, a seductive murmur creeping into his voice. "I think you should be. 'Cause if you've got that thing in your mouth, how am I supposed to get in there?"

The blonde leaned in, closing this distance between their faces as his lips came down hard on Matt's. Matt gasped, then threaded his fingers through Mello's hair and pulled him closer. Mello's hands caressed his face, leaving trails of fire where his skin touched Matt's. "Help..." Mello was whispering against Matt's lips. What? The plea didn't make sense to Matt, who was completely immersed in this heaven: Mello, kissing him like he was suffocating and Matt was the only source of oxygen he wanted.

"Help me, Matt..." Mello muttered again, pulling away. suddenly, Mello was gone. Cold air rushed into the space where he'd been, sucking away all the warmth. Matt's ears were ringing... or was it the phone?

"Shit!" Matt yanked himself from sleep dizzily, searching for his phone. Mello was nowhere in sight; the whole thing had to have been a dream. He glanced at the table next to the couch; there was his lighter. The cigarette had bounced to the floor when he jerked into a sitting position; neither item had been flung across the room by the flawless blonde. Mello was as absent as ever. Matt resisted the urge to burst into tears. He hadn't thought his heart could shatter any more...

The phone was still ringing. He grabbed the cell off the floor and flipped it open, running his hands through his hair. Right where he'd felt Mello's hands seconds before...

"Hello?" He held the phone to his ear. There was a crackling noise from the other end, but no response. "Hello? Who is this?"

"...Matt... help..."

Matt was instantly awake, though the whisper was exactly the same one he'd heard in his dream. "Mels? I mean, Mello? Is that you?" He had to ask, though he was already certain. His bleeding heart had kickstarted at the sound of the husky whisper he knew so well.

"Help me, Matt..." he muttered an address before the line disconnected.

Letting out a steady stream of expletives worthy of Mihael himself, Matt grabbed his car keys, punched the address into his GPS, and raced off into the night without a second though. Mello needed him. What else could possibly matter?

The dream nagged at the back of Matt's brain. Mello had been calling out for him, begging him for help before Matt had even answered the phone. Somehow, unconsciously, Matt had known that Mello was in danger. He shook the thoughts from his mind as he skidded around a corner at ninety miles an hour and then slammed on the breaks, his jaw dropping open.

The address Mello had given him was a building. A giant building that was now completely engulfed in flames. And unless Matt was mistaken, the blonde was inside. He tore his gaze from the leaping fire and checked the GPS. The blinking red star of his entered location was exactly where the burning building stood.

Matt swallowed, his throat constricting. Mello. And he ran into the building without looking back.