A/N: Okay, I'm really, really sorry it took so long to update, but I've finally got everything running smoothly again (I hope) and I should be caught up with this and the rest of my fics fairly soon. I won't ask you to expect a lot of updates in the next few weeks, but be sure to keep an eye out. There may even be some new stuff for you, too! Anyway, bye for now!
A knock on the door interrupted our moment. I frowned. There was only one person in Wammy's that came to Matt's room (besides me) and knocked.
"Come in, Linda," Matt called.
She opened the door and sighed. "You two kind of have to come with me," she said, looking tired and frustrated.
"Why?" I asked, not shifting my position.
"Roger wants you in his office," Linda replied.
I heaved a sigh and stood up, pulling Matt with me.
He unwound his arms from around my waist and shoved his hands in his pockets.
As we followed Linda down the hall, she said, "So, what did the old coot get you for this time?"
"Apparently, I'm not allowed to comfort Matt any longer," I said.
Linda giggled at my statement; she knew exactly what kind of "comfort" I meant.
"But you know," I went on, forgetting for a moment that Linda was a girl. "You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get or stay hard with that prick staring you down."
"You're right," Linda snickered. "I wouldn't know, because I'm not a boy. Although, Matt's cute enough to make me wish sometimes..."
We laughed, all of us knowing the joke well. Long time ago (or when we were fourteen, whichever you like), she'd explained, awkwardly, how she'd always kind of wanted to be with us. Odd at first, true, but Matt and I shrugged it off. She'd actually admitted that both of us were cute, but that it had gone from a crush to a friendship.
"Hey," she said, turning around and walking backwards so she could see us. "Remember that time when you practically gave Roger a freaking aneurism because you dyed your hair pink and purple stripes, Mello?"
Matt had to shove his fist in his mouth to suppress the majority of his hysterical laughter.
"Yeah," I said, trying to suppress my own laughter. I'd scared the crap out of Matt when it happened too. It was about midsummer, we were eight at the time, and Roger had just pissed me off so badly that I'd almost broken Matt's arms when he'd tried to hug me. So, I decided to get back at the git (Roger, of course, not Matt. I'd never call my best friend that, even jokingly).
It was a Sunday night when I sneaked into Nurse Jade's office and filched the dyes.
The next morning, I woke Matt the same time and way as always, as had become ritual for the past two years. I bounced onto his bed beside him and shouted, "Morning, Mattie!"
Matt rolled over and blinked sleepily at me. Then his eyes went wide in shock and he sat up and screamed, "Holy crap, Mel, what happened to your freaking hair!"
"I dyed it," I answered simply.
He grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "Please, please, please, please," he begged, emphasizing each word with a shake. "Tell me you used temporary dye and not permanent."
I chuckled nervously. "Eh-heh...um,no."
He groaned and shook his head before climbing out of bed and grabbing his clothes and getting ready.
Down at breakfast, Matt was half filling his face with cereal and half playing his games, and I was picking at my food. I wasn't really all that hungry this morning; plus, I wanted Roger to notice me, and notice me he did.
"MELLO KEEHL!" he bellowed.
I smirked. Just the reaction I'd been hoping for. I noticed Matt pocket his game quickly; Roger had already confiscated one of his handhelds this month.
"What on earth did you do to your hair?" Roger demanded angrily.
"I dyed it." Duh.
"What in the world possessed you to dye your hair?"
"Just wanted to." To get back at you, you bloody git.
"Why pink and purple? Why not something like brown or black?"
"'Coz I like the Cheshire Cat." Because brown and black wouldn't have pissed you off as badly.
Matt snickered, knowing the truth behind the half-lie.
"Detention," Roger huffed angrily. "Tonight at five-fifteen. Both of you."
"Wait. What did Matt do?" I snapped.
"He helped you."
"No, he didn't!"
"No, I didn't!"
We spoke at the same time and I saw the shock flicker in Matt's eyes for a moment at the fact that he'd defended himself.
"Whatever, I don't care anymore. I want both of your trouble-making rear ends in detention at five-fifteen. You, Mello, for ridiculously dyed hair and you, Matt, for playing video games during school hours. Give that here as well."
Matt's jaw dropped in shock. "But-but..."
"Now."
Matt pouted and handed the game to Roger before putting his head on his arms on the table.
Roger walked off.
"Dammit," I mumbled. "Sorry, Matt." I hadn't meant to get him in trouble, too. That git was going to pay.
"'S'okay." His voice was muffled by his arms.
"No, it's not. This," I tugged at a few strands of purple, "was s'posed to get back at him for pissing me off so badly that I almost broke your arms. I never meant for you to get in trouble."
Matt didn't answer, his head still buried against his arms.
I sighed. Saving time, I crawled under the table and settled next to him; wrapping my arms around his waist, I rested my chin on his shoulder.
He stiffened a little at my touch, but relaxed again.
"I'll get your games back," I promised.
"I don't care that much about my Game Gear," he mumbled quietly. "But that one was the Game Boy my dad gave me. Dad's Game Boy."
"I'll get them back," I promised again. I knew how important that Game Boy was to him. When it wasn't with him, it was locked in a safe in his closet.
At five-fifteen that day, I slipped into a desk next to Matt's in detention and slipped two handhelds into his lap.
He looked at me, gratefulness shimmering in his eyes behind his goggles. 'Thank you,' he mouthed.
I nodded and smiled. No one stole my best friend's things.
Of course, breaking into Roger's office earned me a month's worth of detention. Being the freaking git like he always was, Roger marked the file that I would have detention until my hair was back to normal.
Two weeks later, as I was walking back to my room, Matt tackled me to the floor and started running his fingers through my hair, almost as if he were looking for something. "Thought so," he laughed and rolled off of me.
"What was that for?" I asked, sitting up.
"Nothin', Linda just says Roger's getting tired of seeing it and I wondered how fast your hair grew. Which is about a couple centimetres."
"Yeah, I remember we had to cut it about eight times over the next year," Matt murmured thoughtfully.
"Yeah..."
We walked into Roger's office and Matt and I settled down in the chairs while Linda leaned back against the wall.
Roger folded his hands in front of his mouth, glaring at us over his fingertips. "Now," he said quietly, but an angry quiet. "Why were you committing such acts in the third floor hallway of the boys' dorm?"
"I told you," I said, sighing in frustration. "I was comforting him. He's my best friend."
"And since when does comforting your best friend involve having sex with him in the middle of the hallway?"
I opened my mouth to correct him on a few things. One, that we weren't having sex we were making love and there's a big fucking difference between the two, and that sometimes, the only way Matt could be comforted was through a physical touch.
Linda beat me to it with a very snarky comment of her own. "You shouldn't take it out on Matt and Mello just because you can't get anything. There are plenty of women that love men that take care of children, or, better yet, even more that love men that take care of orphans. Unless, of course, you're not looking for a woman."
Matt's, Roger's, and even my own my own mouth dropped open in shock. Was she insinuating that Roger was... No. I shuddered mentally. No way in hell I would dwell on that.
Matt sighed in boredom, the situation already getting old for him and set his head on my shoulder.
I let my eyes flicker back and forth between Linda and Roger, but only out of a lack of anything better to do.
Mello's hand found mine and he laced his fingers with my own, squeezing gently.
I felt a small smile form on my face. Mello was right; his words fell on my ears and circled my brain, but his actions were melted into my heart for eternity.
Roger gaped like a fish out of water for a few minutes before he slammed his fist onto the desk and roared, "I will not be spoken to with such blatant disrespect!"
"Kay, kay," I grumbled. "We get it already. Mello and I will keep it in our pants unless we're in one of our rooms."
"You're still going to be punished," Roger said bluntly.
"Yeah, we know, but could you just shut up, ya old coot? You're giving me a headache," Mello snapped.
Roger sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He must really wish that he could still spank us like he used to. Last time he tried, when we were twelve, Mello broke the paddle.
A small, mischievous smile slid across my face. Little kids were so much easier to control; more so than teenagers at least. My stomach growled quietly and I realized how hungry I was; I hadn't eaten all day.
Roger started digging through the drawer of his desk, looking for something.
My stomach grumbled again. "Mel," I mumbled, pushing a little closer despite the chairs keeping us apart. "'M hungry..."
"I know, Mattie," he murmured in response, kissing my hair gently. "Try to hold on a little longer, kay?"
"I'll try," I mumbled back as my stomach growled a little louder and Mello reached over and rubbed it gently.
Roger had opened a file by this time and thumbed through it, pulling out three disciplinary sheets and placing them on his desk. "Now," he said, folding his hands once more and appearing calm. "Tell me what you three think an appropriate punishment for your behavior would be. I want you boys to answer for Linda and I want Linda to determine yours."
Was he really an idiot? My stomach had quieted a little as Mello massaged the muscles of my abdomen gently, but chose this time to get a bit louder.
"Can we decide while we eat?" Mello asked. "Because Matt hasn't had anything to eat at all today."
Roger sighed, glancing at the clock. "Very well," he replied, getting up and walking to the door. "Follow me."
We walked down to the kitchen, and the whole time, Mello had his right arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me close. Not a word was spoken between us.
Mellie greeted us kindly. "I wondered why you three weren't at dinner. What did they do this time, Roger?"
Before he had time to answer, Mello pulled me closer to him and said, "Roger doesn't like how I comfort Matt."
One of Mellie's eyebrows quirked ever so slightly. Aside from Linda, Mellie was the only other person in Wammy's to condone mine and Mello's relationship and she didn't try to poke fun at us either.
"Having sex in a hallway is by no way a form of comfort," Roger blustered.
"Like hell it isn't!" Mello snapped angrily. "Sometimes, it takes a physical contact to make Matt understand," he said, quieting down.
"Then hug him," Roger shot back.
"It doesn't always work that way," Mellie said, answering for us. "Sometimes, a hug just isn't enough to heal the pain, am I right, Matt?"
I nodded and buried my face against Mello's chest, feeling him pet my hair gently.
"So, what about you?" Mellie asked Linda.
I shifted a little to see Linda's face as she answered.
"I told Roger not to take it out on Matt and Mello because he couldn't get any." There was a snarky, cocky-ass smirk on her face so reminiscent of Mello's it was unnerving.
Mellie didn't attempt to hide her laughter as she chortled at Roger's expense. "Oh, God. Roger, my boy, you really do need to let that go."
Wait, what?
"Let what go?" I asked curiously, watching as Roger paled almost to Near's pasty complexion.
"N-nothing at all," Roger said hurriedly, tripping over his words in his haste.
Mellie laughed again and chuckled, "As if."
Roger glared daggers at the cook. "Your job is already on the line, Ms. Mellie, I suggest you shut your mouth now, while you still have it," he said quietly.
Rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders, Mellie gave each of us a plate of spaghetti and a piece of garlic toast along with a glass of milk. She started to give Mello a glass of chocolate milk, like always, when Roger stopped her.
"Mello is being punished," he said dryly. "That means no chocolate whatsoever."
Mellie didn't even bat an eyelash, but simply gave him a sidelong glance. "If you don't want a murder committed," she said calmly, "you'll let Mello keep his chocolate."
Roger rolled his eyes. "Fine."
When we sat down to eat, however, I lost my appetite, which was something that Mello noticed immediately.
"Come on, Mattie," he urged kindly. "You need to eat."
I nodded, but continued pushing my food around listlessly.
Mello sighed and pulled me into his lap, wrapping one arm around me gently. He twirled some spaghetti onto his fork and then pushed it towards my mouth.
My lips parted willingly and I took the proffered food, chewing and swallowing obediently.
"You just wanted me to feed you," Mello chuckled.
"Uh-huh." I wasn't scared to answer a question like that because I knew he wouldn't be mad.
As I thought, Mello simply smiled and refilled his fork to continue.