Mello was woken from dreams of chocolate by a loud crash. He jolted upright, a natural reaction of defense from the shattered silence. His breathing quickened from sudden adrenaline rush, too.

"What was that?" he demanded. Near looked at him from around the end of the bed, charred puzzle half complete.

"I apologize. I was reaching for a stray piece when my hand knocked the dresser and your helmet fell down," Near apologized, any ounce of sincerity that could've been in his voice clouded by the neutral cover. Mello glared. Clumsy little bastard…

"Be careful next time. If you break something, I'll make sure you'll pay for it one way or anouther," Mello threatened. He realized his threats weren't at their normal intensity but he could still picture that burn, hidden under the thin fabric of his cotton white shirt. Near stared at him blankly before turning his gaze back toward his puzzle.

Mello looked at his clock, resisting a groan at the time. Two hours before lessons started! What was he going to do for two hours? Drawing in a deep sigh, he turned to his dresser and pulled out a black jumper to wear. "Don't turn around, Near," he growled while pulling his shirt over his head.

Mello had never been body shy; often, when he snuck out or knew he was alone, he wore clothes that revealed enough skin to cause Roger a heart attack. His slim figure was one of the things he enjoyed about his body and, even when wearing a jumper, he made sure his body was accentuated. After changing, Mello ran his hand through his silky hair a couple times to remove the static. With a deep sigh, he jumped over the bed and sat in the wooden chair of his desk, pulling out a textbook.

His mind slowly drifted from his current reality to the list of words; facts, theories, and calculations filled his mind. A circuit is a closed path so that electrons move easily from the source to the load and back to the source, repeating. Paths are generally made up of conductors. Conductors are typically made up of wires or metal strips. Conventional current flow is defined from positive to negative terminal when a circuit is…

"Preparing for the science examination today?" Mello jumped, the blank voice closer than he realized. He could feel Near's breath on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

"Near, stop breathing down my neck," Mello growled at the white-haired teen. The boy responded by sitting on the bed, looking at the text book with half-lidded eyes, one knee to his chest, while twirling a lock of snow white hair around his fingers. Mello looked back at the text, trying to find his spot. He attempted to concentrate but the presence of Near made it difficult; the blonde's mind hazed whenever Near was close. What's wrong with me?

"So… Does that burn hurt?" Mello asked, opening a separate book over the science one.

"My hand? It throbs but it doesn't lower any of my capabilities," drifted the monotone voice. Mello rolled his eyes.

"Uh, no; I'm talking about the huge, painful looking one on your back." The blonde glanced at the boy, who had no change in expression but fingers had stopped twirling. A hesitation, he thought until the fingers continued.

"It's not as bad as it looks. Again, my capabilities aren't going to be affected." The blonde observed him, trying to decipher some meaning in his words.

"But, you've had it checked out, right?"

No response.

"Right?" Mello could safely think that he hadn't gotten any medical attention if they didn't see the burn on his back; the only question that ravaged his mind was what Near's gain was at not requesting the assistance.

"Why don't you get it looked at?" Near's hand lowered from his hair.

"I've… never been to the doctor's before so I didn't know what to expect," the white haired boy answered, finally. Mello smirked.

"For such a big head twit, you don't know that the doctor can help you?" the blonde asked, turquoise eyes amused. Near didn't react, just glanced out the window. Mello looked at his book again before pushing his chair back, standing up.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered. Near looked up at Mello with large questioning black eyes; the blonde sighed, "I'm going to put something on it to make it heal faster, idiot."

Near's eyes went from Mello's to the floor, hands rising to the top button of his shirt. The blonde felt a heat spread over his cheeks at the site. He turned though, to hide his flush from his rival as he retrieved the lotion for Near. Mello picked up the blue bottle from his desk, taking a deep breath before turning to face Near's burn.

Mello let a wince of sympathy for the boy, who still gazed out the window, back facing Mello so he got the full gaze of the red slash; it really did look like he had taken a hit from a whip, the way it was slanted diagonally, stretching from his shoulder blade down to the corner of his hip. Mello crawled onto the bed, kneeling behind him. He let his hand ghost over the red skin just as he did last night, feeling the heat at the same intensity as it was.

"Um, what'd you do to get this?" Mello asked as he put the first slab of lotion on the skin. Near hissed as soon as the cool cream made contact with his searing flesh, a throbbing cool following; the blonde rubbed the lotion in, surprised by the whimpers that emitted from the action. A break in Near's perfect composure, Mello thought with amusement.

"I fell on a flaming domino game I had set up before I slept," the panda eyed boy explained, starting to move uncomfortably.

"Stop squirming, brat; you're just going to hurt yourself," Mello commanded, placing his hands on the boy's bare waist, feeling a shudder run through the thin frame at the touch. Mello's eyes widened. Why is this position… appealing to me?

"If you're finished, I'm going to put my shirt back on," Near's controlled voice stated. The sudden attitude shift set off a response in Mello; he's being affected by my touch. I'm overpowering Near.

As an experiment, he crawled around Near and stood in front of him, hands on his waist the entire time. Mello stared into the large onyx eyes, looking for an emotion in those normally blank orbs. He saw confusion; fear. He felt a smirk spread over his face.

"How are you feeling, Near?" the blonde asked seductively. I don't feel anything but hate for you, Near, he told himself, I just want to see you vulnerable, writhing.

"Mello, what are you doing?" the boy asked as the blonde pinned him down on the bed, wrists firmly in his grasp. Near was trembling under Mello, causing anouther satisfied smirk.

"Whatever I want to do, Near." I have no idea what I'm doing. The blonde removed one hand from Near's restrained wrists, holding them back with the other, and sensually gliding his hand across Near's exposed flesh, while watching his face for reaction. The pale boy bit his lip, shudders running through his slight frame.

"…ngh…" little sounds escaped Near's lips, though it was obvious he was attempting to restrain those noises. Mello's face was so close to the boy's beneath him, their breath's mingling. I wonder what he'll do when I do this, Mello thought, tracing Near's jaw line with his tongue.

With a surprised gasp, Mello saw the normally pale boy flush furiously; Mello's own face felt feverish. The blonde moved his hands on either side of Near's waist on the bed, eyes locked with the boy's. His lips were so close… it's so tempting…

Near's eyes diverted from Mello's intense gaze; he was attempting to catch his breath. He seemed less rigid than when I had started putting the cream on him; Near wasn't fond with being touched. And this little experiment is proving that fact. However, I don't mind invading his personal space. He looked down at his lips, contemplating. There's a… desire – no, a need inside me…

Unable to control himself, Mello brushed his lips against the Near's, who had frozen. His eyes widened at the foreign invasion, breathing stopped. He isn't making any attempts to push me away, Mello noted, pressing harder. Mello let his eyes close slightly, still watching Near for further reactions. His eyes are wide with shock… Mello noticed… How cute.

Suddenly, to Mello's bewilderment, Near's eyes drifted close. Mello felt dizzy before realizing he wasn't breathing. Mello's self control was slowly slipping.

"… n… ngh…" more delicious little noises escaped his rival's lips. Screw air, Mello thought with conviction as he ravished the boy's mouth, running a tongue along his bottom lip. Near started to squirm uncomfortably.

"M…Mello…" he stuttered, though his words were failing. Something was drawing him away from reality; in the world he was in, it was only Near that mattered, everything else didn't. Time, place; all unimportant. It was just him and the writhing boy beneath him.

Unfortunately, reality was persistent as the ring of the bell shattered the perfect world of Mello's mind. Suddenly, his mind cleared and became rational; I'm kissing my rival, on my bed, and class is starting in five minutes. With that sudden rush of logic, the blonde pulled away from the shirtless teen beneath him, breathing ragged breaths.

For a moment, they just stared, learning how to take air into their lungs again. With humility, Mello stood up, back turned on Near. "Well," he breathed, reaching for his book, "I suggest we get to class."

"Yes," drifted the neutral response. Near's tone made it sound like the last few minutes never happened; his voice was controlled, composed, like it was all the time. Why is that frustrating me?

Mello observed the boy as he buttoned up his white shirt; the flush had started fading from his cheeks, his breathing was normal again, and, what annoyed Mello the most was the lack of emotion in those onyx eyes; the ones that were overflowing with feeling just a few moments ago. The lack of eye contact, though, suggested to Mello that Near had been affected by the blonde's previous actions. He is human, to say the least.

"You're going to be late for class," the boy stated as he passed out of the room. This little experiment kinda went wayside, Mello concluded. Was I actually feeling something other than hate for that little brat? The blonde shook his head, heading out the door. That's absurd! I'm only being controlled by hormones; I can blame puberty for doing that.

The denial that bloomed inside Mello was over the fact that he needed to do it again; he needed to see that normally unrevealing face vulnerable, to feel the hidden pale skin, to see emotion in those blank eyes. Mello sighed as he reached the door of class; what the hell is wrong with me?