A/N: Another short chapter, but like I said, that might be the key to making sure that I update at least every few days... I just can't seem to manage large chapters! D: Anyway, I actually pulled a little plot into this one after the last two chapters being more like introductions... It's starting to shape together a bit more in my mind!
Special thanks to:
Shinra'sCrazyTurk- I love your reviews and support
im a molly doll- For giving me a wonderful inspiration that really got me on track with this story! *hugs*

Listened to: California Soul- Marlena Shaw and Clubbed to Death- Matrix

Mello slowly opened his eyes, senses groggy and disoriented. It took a moment for his vision to clear and mind begin working again. Disjointed memories of the night before swam before is eyes as he sat up. That's right, he had been drinking which was probably why he could feel such a strong headache coming on. Work was going to suck and he considered calling in sick.

Running his fingers thought his hair, he glanced over at the clock. 4 a.m. That was odd, shouldn't he be passed out right now? Something must've woke—

Click

His bedroom door opened, spilling some light from the hall into the room. Mello's pulse raced, as adrenalin dispersed all notions of going back to sleep. Someone was in his room! He placed his hand above his eyes, trying to see who it was framed in light at the doorway.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" The figure walked softly over to the edge of the bed and crawled over to the blond. When his eyes adjusted to the soft hall light, Mello could make out a young redhead, clad only in black and red striped boxers. He looked vaguely familiar somehow... That's right, he paid his kid to take him home!

Now things were starting to fit together better, but why hadn't he taken the money and left? Realizing that he had been staring at the boy, he quickly spoke up.

"Yes, what the fuck are you even doing here?" No need to be polite to complete strangers that interrupted his sleep.

Looking down quickly, the redhead seemed to shrink. "Y-you asked me to stay last night. You don't remember?"

"No…" now that he tried, he realized he barley remembered arriving home, much less what happened after. "I asked you to?"

Now the kid looked really embarrassed and nodded, this couldn't be good. "Ah, yea. You wanted to—well you wanted…" He didn't need to go on, Mello got the picture.

He fell back on the pillows and closed his eyes. "Shit…" There wasn't really much else to say. He'd spent who knows how much on a prostitute, a fucking male prostitute, while he was drunk and now had no memory of it. Speaking of money, "How much did I pay you?"

"200, cause that's my fee for one night. Oh, and the 50 for bringing you home."

Mello grunted in acknowledgment. It could have been worse he supposed. In his mafia days he had hired plenty of whores so $200 wasn't unreasonable, especially for a boy so cute. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it or anything; it was more the principle that worried him.

Drinking and whores were part of his old life, the one he was trying to leave behind. He knew that he could slip back at any time into that old hell, complete with old vices. Mello shuddered at the thought. Just the line of thinking had his body craving things he wouldn't let it have again.

Rustling sheets pulled him out of his thoughts. The boy was on top of him now, sitting on his abdomen. Leaning forward, the redhead brought them face-to-face.

"Well you know, since you don't remember and all…. A-and you did pay for the whole night… would you like to—to go… again?"

In all honesty, he was tempted to wrap his arms around the boy and get his money's worth; after all, he hadn't been picky about gender before. To him, a good fuck was a good fuck, no matter how you looked at it. Or at least, that's what the old him thought.

Now though, he had a job and to get a couple more hours of sleep would do him good. He sighed and pushed the boy off of him. "Sorry kid, I'm strait. At least when I'm sober…" A lie, he couldn't care less about male or female, but he really did need to get some more rest.

Stupid job, he didn't even need the money. It was all for appearance and to occupy his days. Couldn't ju— A yawn interrupted his thoughts. Jeez, he really… was… soooo….

He slipped back into unconsciousness without another word to his guest.