Yello-Mello, everyone! Shirai Phoenix here~! As my dear darling U.G. said in her previous chapter, I will be writing from our dear Matt's POV, mostly because I can relate to that geeky-ass videogamer! I'm sorry for the long wait for chapter two, but my inspiration has been a little BLEAGH! for the past couple months, or so. But now that I'm over that BLEAGH! period and into my EUREKA! one, I'll try to update faster, in both this story and "I Need a Doctor".

So, now, without further ado...enjoy chapter deux of "Matt and Mello's Effing Movie"!

Disclaimer: who the fuck cares anymore, we've all memorized that shit.

Warning: do I need to? We're talking about Mail Jeevas and Mihael Keehl making a fucking porno. That's enough of a warning. Also, OOC-NESS AHEAD, but I guess you were expecting that, too?

"Kid, what the fuck are you doing with that banana?"

It was another normal day at my job, Mogu's Market, where "every fruit and vegetable comes freshly out of our dear Mother Nature" (or so Mogu-san, my boss, likes to say, though that's a highly questionable motto, especially when half of the store is covered in mold and infested by mice). Customers come and go, some happy and some grim (probably having witnessed some nasty mouse-sex towards the back of the store, where the cheeses are), kids keep pestering their mothers to buy them candy, low-life people buy their instantaneous food because they're too fucking lazy to cook, and the mice are as active as alway—oh, look, a cockroach...

It's 9:30 pm (I work the night shift, mind you), the activity at Mogu's has lessened considerably and I'm standing at my usual place by the bananas (which were a fabulous yellow, lemme tell ya, but nowhere near as vibrant as Mello's chocobo hair*) that nobody ever—ever—bought, playing Silent Hill: Origins on my PSP.

Yeah, everything is at it should be. Except for one little thing.

Near.

Nate River is his real name, but he presented himself as Near when we hired him, so that's what everyone at the store has been calling him ever since. He claims to be almost nineteen years old, but with those baby looks of his, it's hard to believe that. His skin is smooth and pale like porcelain; his almond-shaped, wide eyes are as black as coal; his heart-shaped face is round and doll-like; his hair looks more like a cloud of pure, white fluff; and he has this tendency of always curling a wavy lock around his fingers that just makes you want to coo at him like you would with a baby. Overall, he's...cute.

But one hell of a creepy fellow, and if I think that he's creepy, then you should be worried. I mean, I live with a blond psychopath who sleeps with a gun under his pillow. If that's not shit-scary, then I don't fucking want to know what is.

Don't get me wrong, though; I like Near, he's a good kid. He's quiet and extremely patient, and everyone likes him, but there is jut something about him that really bothers me. For starters, he looks like he just came out of a fucking asylum. All he ever wears is white—white shirt, white pants, white socks, white shoes, white coat, white scarf, white gloves, white everything. He also likes to people-watch a lot, which freaks the fuck out of the customers. He doesn't do it on purpose, of course, but his eyes tend to turn blank and somewhat crazed when he stares at people for a long time, and that coupled to his asylum looks really make him look like a freak.

But he's an amazing fella, too. If there is one thing we have in common, it would be playing, though we do it in different ways. Whereas I spend basically all of my life playing videogames, Near prefers toys. He also really likes to build stuff with whatever object he finds.

Like he's doing right now with the bananas.

He doesn't even look up at me when he answers. "I'm building a castle."

Yes, I could see that, thank you very much, albino kid. "Yeah, but...with the bananas?" Even though I can see it happening with my own eyes, I still can't comprehend how those yellow fruits can stay upright like that. Talk about real-life Minecraft...

"I tried with the mushrooms, but they're too decayed to do anything with them," he replies, voice void of any emotion. He grabs two more bananas and turns them so their curved backs are touching, and then proceeds to make them stay upright, like all the others. And again, to my surprise, they don't fall or budge once he lets go of them. "Besides," he adds, turning my attention back to him, "I really don't want to get acquainted to those mice in the back."

I chuckle at that before focusing my attention back to the game I paused. "I thought the old geezer—" that would be Mogu "—had gotten rid of them, already. " Or so he keeps saying every time we complain about rat excrement mixed in with the peanuts.

"He says it's not his fault if they keep coming back. I don't understand why he doesn't call the mice extermination if it's such a huge problem. Even the customers complain about it..."

"He's either afraid of losing the shop, or he has a soft spot for animals and doesn't want to kill them." Though it's probably the first one, considering Mogu is an avid bastard. As long as I get my pay, though, I can't really complain.

"Hn," was the only answer Near gives me, and I'm content with that. I'm trying to beat the Alessa's Dream boss, anyway, so I'm kind of busy.

For the next couple minutes, the empty store is filled with the noise of my game and the low buzzing of the refrigerators. There's the occasional late-night customer who comes in, but that's pretty much it.

Until Near breaks the silence again.

"How's life?" Odd question to ask, especially since it's Near we're talking about, Mr. Antisocial, but I appreciate his effort to make small talk.

"Not bad, not bad..." No need to tell him Mello and I are currently broke, so I leave that fact out. Speaking of which, I really need to find a solution to our problem, and quick. I wonder if we could maybe sell pieces of furniture that we don't need? Or clothes and accessories that don't fit us anymore...though probably everything still suits Mello, considering his body hasn't changed much since high school...

"How's Mello?"

"Crazy and a chocolate addict, as usual." And it will probably never change, not as long as he keeps watching those mafia movies. "What about you?" I figure I would make this conversation easier if we're talking about him...

He shrugs, but doesn't grace me with an answer.

...or not.

"Got any plans for the weekend?" I keep asking, even though I'm not that interested in knowing. Sure, I guess you can call us "friends", but...meh. He has this sort of..."rivalry" going on with Mello that apparently started since they were both younger, and all of Mello's enemies are my enemies, too.

Sometimes I feel like I get too protective of my cute, little chocobo...but I seriously can't bring myself to give a living shit.

"Not really," he replies.

And that's when I figure that he doesn't really want to talk, anymore, so I stop asking question. And so does he.

The rest of my shift went by uneventful, unless you count beating my game an event...

I. Am. So. Fucking. Tired.

My feet hurt, my back is stiff from standing up straight all night, and I'm sleepy as fuck. The only thing I want to do right now is go to my room and fall asleep in the comfort of my bed. Or even the couch, I really don't care at the moment.

It's three in the morning and I know that Mello is probably already asleep, so I don't bother to check up on him as I make my way to my room, dragging my feet behind me. My eyes always get sensitive to the light when I'm sleepy, and I'm glad my blond roommate didn't leave any lamps on—or maybe he was just saving on electricity? I don't need any light, anyway; I've memorized basically every corner of this apartment, so I know exactly where my room is.

I'm torn between getting rid of my clothes and jump directly in the bed or taking shower, so I choose the one that requires less physical activity—bed it is. I make my way among the dirty clothes on the floor, and once my knees hit the mattress, I unceremoniously throw myself on top of it.

And the second I do so, I realize something is wrong with my bed—something very wrong.

The first thing I notice is that I landed on something...hard, not the softness of my mattress. The second thing I notice is that the object I landed on is lumpy. I spread my fingers over the object below me, and I'm terrified to realize it feels too much like a...like a human body. I keep feeling around with my hands, and I can definitely make out the silhouette of a shoulder, followed by an arm, a side...lower to a rather masculine hip.

"Mello...?" I ask in a murmur, unsure if I want to know the answer to that question. It wouldn't be the first time he's slept in my bed...but the body structure is different from the chocobo's. It feels sturdier, less curvy—not that Mello is curvy like women are, but he's got softer hips than most men...and that's just fine with me.

The body beneath me twitches, and I immediately get off of it. I sit back and watch with curious, careful eyes as the stranger in my bed turns around in their sleep, now facing me.

Yup. This is most definitely not Mello.

I can feel my panic morph into anger at the new discovery, my hands tightening into fists at my sides. My body starts shaking, and a low growl rumbles in my throat. Just who the fuck is this person sleeping in my bed? Why is he in my bed? Is it one of Mello's sex partners? Didn't we talk about this already? Bedroom business stays in the bedroom.

"MELLO!"

A loud thump! from the other side of the wall tells me that said blond is now awake.

"...and that's how it is," Mello finishes explaining, twiddling with his thumbs on his lap and refusing to look at me.

My mouth is hanging open at the whole story, arms crossed in front of my chest.

So...apparently, the guy sleeping in my bed is Light Yagami, a Japanese student left with nowhere to go because his documents have been stolen, and Mello offered him to crash at our place for the time being.

Shit like that only happens in manga, not real life.

Sighing in frustration, I rub my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can feel a scream surging from deep within my soul, so I lock my jaw in place in order to let nothing out. I can't afford to lose my patience like this, it's too damn late in the night—morning—for this shit.

I look at the Light kid—what the fuck kind of name is that, anyway?—and then back at Mello. They're both sitting on the couch in front of me, awkwardly staring at the floor. I bet they feel ashamed, and they should.

I clear my throat, making Mello look up at me, and I motion him to follow me in the kitchen with a wiggle of my index finger. I see him gulp, but he does as asked, anyway.

Once I know we're out of Light's earshot, I turn to glare at the blond. "What the fuck were you thinking, Mello?" I harshly whisper, trying my best not to be loud.

"I couldn't just leave him out there, Matt. I've been in that situation before, I know what it feels like to be hopeless. You know it's not something I can just ignore," he whispers back just as cautiously, glancing at the door to check if our guest heard us.

I could feel my eyes soften at his words, but I quickly slipped my stern mask back in place. Now is most definitely not the time to get distracted by mellow Mello. "I know, I understand," I reassure him, softly squeezing his left shoulder. "But just think of our situation, Mello. We are broke. We have absolutely no money and no way to pay those bills in time! How are we supposed to take care of him—" I point at the living room "—if we can't take proper care of ourselves? We can't afford to have someone in the house, Mello." I know what I'm saying is probably harsh, and I seriously have nothing against that Light guy, especially since I've just met him (in a very undesirable way, alas, but still). It's obviously not the kid's fault for being robbed of his possessions, and I'm not blaming Mello for having a heart of gold, either (no matter how hard he tries to prove me wrong, what with pointing his Beretta at me every now and again).

I just wish my blond friend would try to reason before acting.

Said blond man looks up at me with wide, puppy-dog, blue eyes, and I mentally curse myself. I know that look, and I know what he's trying to do. I also know he'll be successful. "I can ask him to leave, if you want me to..."

Yup. He's pulling the Guilt Card on me. I groan at my inevitable defeat. Leave it to Mello to be both dangerous and adorable at the same time. "It's too late for that, now, Mello..." I sigh and rub my temples. My shoulders slump, my sleep deprivation taking its toll on me. My whole body begins to ache again, the soles of my feet throbbing from all the hours of work spent standing and walking home. "I seriously don't know how we'll get through this when we have no money, but I guess we'll manage."

Mello smiles—the kind of smile that makes me feel less bad about agreeing to something that will most definitely get us kicked out of the apartment and into the street—and it's enough to make my anger disappear, if only for a few moments.

But then he frowns, and brow twitches.

"Actually..." he says slowly, blue eyes rolling up to meet my green ones. "Um...I kind of met someone at the store today..."

Oh, that's just fucking fantastic. Just when I think I can finally sleep, he brings up another topic. "Who?"

He looks unsure as he answers, "Alois Trancy and Ciel Phantomhive."

And he's not shrieking like a crazy fangirl? Something's wrong, here. My gaze narrows. I smell something suspicious... "Aaaaand?"

"And he kind of showed me a way for us to make a shit-ton of money quickly."

"Why do I have the feeling I'm not gonna like this?" I ask, more to myself than him. Nothing can come out of a BL author and owner of a sex shop.

Mello clears his voice and nervously wets his lips. "Mattie, it will get us a lot of money."

"And I really don't like the sound of that, Mello." I eye him suspiciously as I say so. There is just something about the way he's acting that seems completely off. "What did the Trancy guy tell you?" I swear, if that blond midget brainwashed my—

"How do you feel about having sex for money?"

—Oh my God.

"What?!" The whole fucking town probably heard my shriek, but I can't give a shit at the moment. Mello tries to shush me, sending a worried glance towards the living room, but I'm too shocked to do what he's asking me. "Mello, what the fuck did you just say? Sex for money? Shit, I know we're broke as hell, but seriously? Prostitution? That has to be the craziest shit I've ever heard coming from you! I mean, you do crazy shit all the damn time, but this takes the cake! What the fuck are you thinking? Do you really want to whore yourself out like that?! You—"

My words die in my throat when Mello slaps his hands in front of my mouth, efficiently making me shut up. A slight blush is coloring his cheeks, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he's embarrassed—but the angry scowl on the rest of his features tells me otherwise. "Shut up, Matt! Listen to me to the end, damn it! Who ever said anything about prostitution?!"

"You did!" I argue, breaking free from his touch. "You just said 'having sex for money'!"

"I meant making a porno, you dipshit!" He slaps my forehead with the palm of his hand, and I wince away at the sharp, yet brief, pain.

I blink at him with wide eyes, trying to register his words. "A...a porno?"

"Yes, Matt, a porno. You know, those movies with naked people you watch at night when you think I'm asleep?"

My face heats up with the blush I know is coloring my cheeks. "Y-You know about that?"

He has the guts to roll his eyes at me, a mischievous, sly grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. "The walls of this run-down apartment are paper-thin, Mattie; I can hear everything. But anyways, yeah. A porno."

"So...let me get this straight—" I clear my throat "—When you went to work today, you met Alois Trancy, the author of countless gay novels, and he offered you to act in a porno movie?"

"Yes."

"And you want to go along with it. And you want me to be part of it, too?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely not. I still have my dignity, thank you very much," I refuse, crossing my arms in front of my chest to try and look more intimidating—"try" being the keyword, because he's the one with a fucking Beretta tucked in the waistband of his sleeping pajama pants. What if he accidentally shoots is dick off one of these days?

"I don't think this is a matter of dignity, anymore, Matt. We're gonna end up living in the streets if we don't do something soon. What dignity will we have then?"

True, I agree, but he doesn't need to know that. "But a porno, Mello? Why can't it be a normal movie?"

"Because pornos don't need any acting skills, that's why. You just need to get naked and have sex with someone, that's all there is to it." He sighs, his arms falling at his sides. "I was against it at first, too. I thought it was a foolish idea...but then I thought about all those bills and the kind of life we're living. And there's Light, too," he adds, nodding towards the living room. I'm surprised the kid is still sitting there; were it anyone else, they probably would've already tried to spy on our conversation by now. "It's not like we have anything to lose if this doesn't work, anyway, and you know very well I've bid farewell to my virginity a long time ago, just like you have. And we both have no qualms about having sex with no strings attached."

"I really don't like this idea, Mello," I try to reason. But I know that whatever I might say at this point will be useless. Once Mello makes up his mind on something, it's impossible to make him think otherwise.

"Just think about it, Mattie—really think about it. We can gain so much money from all this. We can pay all our bills, help Yagami-kun get all his stuff back so he can get settled and we wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. We can get out of this shit-hole of an apartment (and town) and go somewhere better—to the big city, Matt, like we've always wanted. We can save up money for the future, so we wouldn't have to worry about one thing once we retire...Also, I can get all the fucking chocolate I want, and you can get all the videogames you so desire to buy."

Oh, great. Now he's playing the Dreams Card. Just fucking great. "Mello, don't—"

"Isn't the new Tekken coming out next week, Mattie?" He puts cutely as he says those words, blinking his long lashes in a very innocent (and totally fake) fashion.

I've been waiting for that game ever since I heard Namco was making it. "Fuck you," I growl, and he smirks.

He knows he's won the battle. "Is that a yes? Are we going to do this, Mattie? Just think about it, we might even become famous! We get pleasure and money. What could possibly go wrong?"

I swallow all the nasty insults I want to scream at his face, trying to calm myself down.

Right. He's right, Matt. What could ever go wrong? I get to have sex on a daily basis and I get money for it. That's two of the things I love, already. And the new Tekken is just waiting for me to get my claws on it.

"Ugh, fine, you bastard!" I grow, pushing myself away from the smirking blond.

What could possibly go wrong?

*"chocobo hair": Cloud Strife, anyone?

Well, that was chapter two! Brought to you by thy loyal Shirai Phoenix.

Ultimma, gurl. *Pats on shoulder* I pass the ball to ya.