Hello, my loves! Shirai Phoenix is back once again with chapter 4! And I am sooooo, SOOO sorry for such a late update! I tried to make it up to you guys in length, though...(and that is so what she said~)

Thank you to all our reviewers and followers, we appreciate your comments~! You're awesome!

The same night I make my way at Mogu's with a small grin on my face. I'm still quite pissed at the whole gay porn thing, but those feelings are easily pushed in the back of my mind when I think of what I'm about to do to my dear Near.

Oh, ripping money off that kid will be so much fun; just imagine his face when he finds out he'll be funding a porno.

The high soprano of wind chimes echoes in the small store as I make my way inside, and I cringe at how high-pitched they sound. Seriously, I like wind chimes, but these ones sound like nails scraping on a blackboard.

I'm not surprised to see the cottonball building yet another sculpture, this time with Rubik's cubes. Hmmm...that could come in handy...

"Hiya, Near~!" I cheerfully greet him, and he slowly raises his blank, black gaze to meet mine. He doesn't greet me back, but I'm not surprised by that, either. He's the quiet type, someone who wouldn't talk unless he absolutely needs to. "What are ya doing?"

"Building a giant Rubik's cube with smaller ones," he replies monotonously.

That's when I realize that all the cubes he is using are fully solved, and he's using the orange side of the small cubes to build the larger one of the giant one he's making. He still has quite a few cubes left—probably having robbed the store of all its stock—and I ask, "How long does it take you to solve a cube?"

"Around three minutes," he says, and I openly smirk at that.

"I betcha I can beat you."

My statement makes him look up at me again, and I could only guess he's arching an eyebrow (if he even has eyebrows; I can't be too sure, since his hair covers part of his eyes). I can see a strange glint in his eyes, and I smile wider.

"Are you trying to make a bet with me, Jeevas?"

I quirk an eyebrow at the informal use of my last name, but I ignore it for the moment. "And if I was, River?"

His onyx eyes narrow as he purses his lips together, an uncharacteristic look of suspicion on his doll-like features. "What happens if I win?"

I shrug. "I'll do whatever you want."

"Cover my shifts for a whole week."

Oh, you fucking little— "Will Mogu even permit you to do that?"

"You keep forgetting I have the power to do whatever I want, thanks to my family name."

I roll my eyes at that stuck-up attitude of his. Of course he would use his last name as a mean to get whatever the hell he wants, why the fuck not? "Fine," I grit out though clenched teeth. God, he's so infuriating, the little shit... "But if I win..." my frown disappears as I smirk once more "...you'll have to do whatever I ask of you, without complaining. And without asking."

He only pauses to think about it for a second before nodding his agreement.

Insert evil laugh here...

I can't hold in my silly giggles as I see the incredulous and confused face of Mr. McFluff as he stares at both cubes in his hands, a frown marring his usually blank expression. His black orbs shift from his toy to mine, as if hey were two of the world's greatest wonders.

"Are you done gaping like a fish out of water yet, or do you still need some time?" I taunt him as I step closer to him.

He looks up and asks, "How?"

I shrug my right shoulder. "I'm just faster than you, that's all." He still looks quite dejected, so I take pity on him and crouch down at his eye level. "Tell you what, why don't we hang out after we're done here? You know, to cheer you up after your epic loss?" Near merely glares at me, but doesn't object. He shrugs in reply, and I flash him my shit-eating grin.

You're in my domain now, bitch.

The walk to La Posh was a short one, but Near kept being annoying the whole way, continuously asking me, "Where are you taking me, Jeevas? I kept telling him it was "somewhere good", and now here we are.

We're standing in line by the black building, red neon lights flashing all around us. The blaring music from the club is shaking the ground, thumping in my chest, and I grin almost giddily at what is to come. Oh, I'm gonna have so much fun tonight...

So, the plan is this: get Near drunk, convince him to pay for the porno, and have some fun with the ladies of La Posh in the mean time.

It feels like forever when our turn finally comes. I take my ID out for the bulky bouncer to check, and when he gives Cottonball a scrutinizing look, I motion for the midget to do so, as well. The guard doesn't seem too convinced, even as he reads the two IDs, but he says nothing and lets us in.

And immediately, we're invaded by flashing lights of all colors, loud and lewd music, people whistling and screaming, grinding bodies, and the smell of sweat and sex. My eyes immediately go on the stage at the very end of the large room, where silver dancing poles shine, women of different statures dancing around them. Curvy hips sway to the fast rhythm of the music, long and strong legs securely wrapping around the metal and supporting toned bodies doing all sorts of tricks, clad in fancy lingerie.

I can already feel the temperature of my body rising as two strippers in particular gain my imminent attention.

One is a short, petite girl, probably around the age of nineteen or twenty. Her blonde hair is pulled up into two pigtails, and from how far I am standing from the stage I can make out how blue her eyes are—for a second I'm presented with a mental image of Mello dressed in black, lacy underwear and thigh-high stockings, whip in hand, but I quickly shake my head.

No time to think dirty of your best friend, Matt—focus!

A sudden tug at my side makes me look away from the stage, and see an almost-hyperventilating Near looking up at me with wide, black eyes, his hand tightly gripping the edge of my shirt. I want to laugh at his expression so badly, but I refrain from doing so. Instead, I tilt my head to the side and ask, "What?"

"Where the hell did you take me, Jeevas!" he screams (screeches, really) through the deafening music bursting through the speakers, and I have to bend down a little to actually hear him right.

I try to hide my smirk as I answer him, "What do you mean 'where'? We're at a strip club, of course! I thought the half-naked women would kind of give it away..."

His onyx orbs narrow dangerously at me, pale lips pursed together as if he's trying to stop a harsh insult from escaping him. "I knew that much, you damned bastard! I wanna know why you brought me at such a...such a...such a—"

"Heavenly place?" I interrupted, raising my eyebrows. "Or perhaps you would have preferred if I took you somewhere more hardcore? I know this very nice place just a few blocks away from he—"

"No!" Hands smaller than mine slap over my mouth, and if I squint my eyes enough I can barely make out the trace of a light blush on his cheeks—or maybe that's just a trick of the red lights in the club. "This is just...well, it's not really fine, but it's probably a thousand times better than the other place you have in mind."

I smirk almost evilly at his remark. "Shall we get a drink at the bar, then? By the way, you're paying."

I am so fucking wasted, it's not even funny. My thoughts are swirling in my clouded mind, a jumbled mass of nonsense that I could gladly do without.

But alas! I am too busy to notice any of that, anyway.

My eyes are currently trained on the two strippers in front of Near and me (which, by the way, was just as wasted as I was). We're sitting in the front row, parallel to the stage, leaning in the red, soft cushion of the arm chairs. There's a small, round table in between us, with empty bottles of expensive liquor and shots glasses. The light of the club have diminished and changed to only red and white, and the music is more exotic and slow, overall giving the place a more sensual environment.

The stripper dancing for me was the same blonde chick I'd seen earlier, the one with the ice-blue eyes that remind me so much of Mello. She's wearing a white, lacy baby-doll and stockings, and black stiletto heels that match the black choker around her neck. Her underwear is decorated with thin chains, skull and cross-shaped charms hanging from them and clinking against her milky skin. She can pull off the "Devil-in-disguise" look very well, and I find myself licking my lips when her hips sway in a tantalizing manner.

I shift my gaze towards Near for a moment to see how he's doing, and I feel like bursting into silly giggles at the sight.

The little cottonball is curled up on his seat, tightly-embraced knees drawn up to his chin. His body language gives off a feeling of shyness and awkwardness, but the expression on his face is the complete opposite. He's almost drooling as he stares at the woman dancing before him, black eyes wide in his rapture and cheeks slightly flushed—whether it's from the alcohol or embarrassment (or something else entirely), I'm not sure.

I can't really blame him for reacting like that, though; I'm pretty sure this is his first time at a strip club, if the way he reacted earlier is anything to go by, and his stripper is pretty damn hot (almost as much as Blondie).

She's similar, yet entirely different, to the blonde girl, except she radiates a somewhat cold, mysterious aura. She's wearing all black leather—booty-shorts and bra, with chains and skull charms hanging from both—thigh-high black stockings, and her lavender hair is styled in dreads here and there. The way she moves around her pole is sensual, yet dangerous at the same time; her body language clearly says she's not to mess around with.

I shift my eyes back to Near, and his eyes widen even more when the purple-haired woman does a split, giving the whole audience a nice view of her flexibility. I smirk when I see Cottonball shift in his chair, spreading his legs a little—his posture simply screamed "BONER".

I snicker to myself and turn around to look at the blonde girl in front of me again.

Oh, Near, you closet perv.

The night after that passed in a blur. I don't even know how I got where I am, but I ain't complaining. I got a hot blonde sitting on my lap and Near is happily chatting away with his stripper, and the world couldn't be more beautiful. One thing I really don't like about my stripper is that her voice is a little too high-pitched, but meh. She sounds like she would make the perfect porn star...

"So, sweetheart," I drawl in my drunken stupor, but somehow my voice manages to still be sexy, and I can see she likes it. She turns to look at me with a seductive and amused, little smile on her red lips, and I smile back. "What's your name, beautiful?" I ask her, and she blushes at the comment.

"Misa," she says.

"No last name?"

At that, her smile turns devious. "Not for strangers."

"I'm Matt."

And then she shifts closer to me, higher up my lap, and I'm not complaining about that, either. "It's very nice to meet you, hot stuff," she murmurs in that high voice of hers, and I can't help but think that it sounds a little like a child's, and that thought arouses more nasty, dirty, and absolutely wrong ideas in my mind. "You're the first hot guy I've ever seen in such a long time," she continues.

"Oh, yeah?"

She nods. "Mhmm. Because I'm a newcomer, I often get the old geezers who pay too little and touch too much." She pouts cutely, and I snicker at the sight. So cute...

"That must be outrageous," I reply, and her blue eyes shift from my collarbone to my face, and I feel my breath hitch in my throat at the resemblance. But her eyes aren't quite the same shade; they're a little too blue, too dark, not icy like his.

"It is!" Her face seems to light up as she says that, and I start to notice more and more of her baby-like features. She really is a beauty, I'll admit, and that young look and innocent face of hers makes her even more sexy, irresistible—kind of like a forbidden fruit; you know it's wrong, but you can't help but want it. "I don't like wrinkly old men! But you..." She leans in closer to me, until her breath is brushing my cheeks, and I look at her through my eyelashes, waiting. "You and your friend, over there, are always welcome."

And then her lips are on mine, and it's nice, and soft, and—

—wrong. So wrong, because her lips are too soft, too light against mine, too sweet and gentle. It's passionate, her tongue's in my mouth, but I can't feel that passion. Not the same way I felt it with—

"Sorry," I murmur, just low enough for her to hear, and i gently push her away from me. When Misa gives me a confused, and somewhat annoyed, look, I quickly make up an excuse, not wanting to offend her. "I just think I'm gonna be sick." I try my best to look sick, and I think it's convincing enough, for her eyes widen in understanding and she gets off my lap. A girly giggle leaves her red lips as she offers to help me up—and I'm trying to die of embarrassment, because it's humiliating to have a girl help me stand up, even if it's just an act (on my side).

"I'm guessing you've had a little too much to drink?" she says, and it sounds more like a question, so I simply nod.

"Yeah, sorry...I can usually hold my alcohol better, but since he's paying—" I nod towards Near, who's still happily chatting with the cold-looking woman leaning towards him, with her chin resting on a pale hand "—I figured I'd have my fun." Sort of a lie, but mostly a truth; I can hold my liquor very well—Mello is the perfect drinking partner, surprisingly enough.

Misa giggles again, though it does sound a little bit strained, if not disappointed. "Well, then, why don't you go to the bathroom and wash your face with some cold water? I want you to be in your right mind when you come back..." She's trying to be seductive, but she's trying a little too hard.

I nod and walk away, and I've been more than enough times at this bar to go to the bathrooms with my eyes closed. But as I make my way through the crowds of men and women writhing and grinding against each other, I can barely see where my own feet are, let alone see the way in front of me. The second I manage to finally break free from the arms trying to trap me, I slam face-first into someone. I groan in pain as my nose hits something hard, probably the person's bone, and I stumble back, holding my face. I can feel tears gathering in my eyes, but I manage to make out the other person through the haze.

The second I look at the man I bumped into, the pain is all forgotten.

There, clutching his shoulder and grimacing in pain, was none other than my blond Chocobo, Mello. His outfit is composed of all leather—from the sleeveless shirt to the tight-fitting pants and the combat boots—and he actually looks a little intimidating, almost like the "mafia boss" he always dreams of being. I can see his rosary glinting under the colorful lights of the club, a family heirloom he never separated from, much like his beloved Beretta (and I just know he's hiding that somewhere in his pants, too).

I can do nothing but stare at him in shock, waiting for him to notice me and make the first move. It's not because he's here at such a place that shocks me, but the irony of the situation; I just rejected Misa—sexy-innocent Misa who knows how to shake her hips just right to put on a good show—because my drunken mind was filled with thoughts of Mello, and here he is. "Speak of the Devil and he shall appear", huh?

My shoulders tense considerably when his icy blue eyes finally meet mine, and I can see surprise flash in them because a smile splits his face. "Mattie!" he calls, "what a fucking coincidence! I wasn't expecting you to be here."

I silently clear my throat and return the smile, albeit a little awkwardly. "Hey, Mells," I greet back with a nod and a little wave. "Fancy meeting you here." Insert shaky giggle here. "Why are you here?" I try not to sound overly curious.

Mello points behind his shoulder with his thumb and says, "I came with Light, actually." My smile drops a little—so the brat was with him, huh? I swear, those two have become almost inseparable... "We came to see if we can recruit someone for the movie."

...oh. "That makes sense." Should I feel...relieved? "Any luck so far?"

He grimaces a little, but the smile never completely drops. "We got a few people interested, gave them our contact number, but I'm not sure they'll actually call us back."

"I see..."

"Say, Mattie," he says, and I look at him to show him he's got my attention—not that he ever lost it, really. "Mind if we join you for a bit?"

As if on clue, Light approaches us, back from wherever he was up until now, and he bows lightly—no pun intended—when he sees me. I jerk my head upwards in return in a silent greeting. "Sure, I guess. I'm here with Near and—"

"What?" Mello interrupts, eyes widening almost comically. "Cottonball is here?! Innocent, childish Nate River is here, at the most outrageously raunchy and perverted strip club in town?" I try not to laugh at his shocked and disbelieving expression, but a small chuckle still escapes my lips. He's just so funny, I can't help it.

"Yes, Mells."

"Why." Not a question, more like a demand; so typical of him.

"I managed to convince him to fund our video, and we're here to 'celebrate' that—he's paying."

If possible, his eyes widen even more and his jaw almost hits the floor. "How!" Now, that just sounded more like a screech.

I shrug casually, trying to play it cool. "I beat him to a challenge, and here we are. I knew he wouldn't back down from a dare, and since he's a man—more like a child, really—of his word, he went through with my request. So now here we are."

And then Mello suddenly snaps his mouth shut, and a shit-eating grin that could very well put the Cheshire Cat to shame appears on his face. I don't even have time to process things as he flings himself at him, in all his leather-clad glory, and wraps his arms around me in a bone-crushing hug. "Shit, Mattie, you're a fucking God!" he exclaims, apparently very pleased and happy with me. "I knew I could rely on you for this! Of course you'd never let me down, you fucker!"

I want to hug him back and laugh with him, but before my slow mind could even register that thought, Mello steps away, and with hims so does the warmth of his body. I laugh to hide my disappointment, and I hope to God it sounds natural. "Gee, Mells, you're welcome. It really wasn't that hard, so don't worry."

"Shir, we are definitely coming to sit with you guys!" He turns to look at Light, who's been smiling politely the whole time. "Did you hear that, Light-kun? Now we only need the actors!"

The brunet boy's smile widened slightly. "That is great, Mello. I'm sure we will soon find the actors, as well, and the we'll be able to start with the movie!"

"Why don't you two go ahead and go pester Near?" I proposed, smirking. "He's up in the front, sitting next to a stripper."

"He's even got a fucking stripper?!"

I start walking past the two men and towards the men's room, which was my initial destination before this encounter. "You can't miss him, he's the only Albino kid in town."

The last thing I hear before the music drowns Mello and Light's voices is the blond's confused, "Is he even Albino? His eyes aren't red" and Light's, "Well, he is something..."

Misa's shrill laughter is very contagious. When she starts giggling, everyone else around her starts laughing their asses off—except for Rem (that's Near's prostitute), who only ever chuckles at her (apparently best) friend's antics. We soon discovered, as the night proceeded, that alcohol tastes much better when you're in good company. We also discovered fairly soon that you get drunk faster when you're in good company.

Which is precisely why Misa, Near, Mello, Light, me (and even Rem, if only a little) are completely wasted, at the moment. I don't even know how the hell it all started, and I can't even say I care. All I know is that I'm having the time of my life, surrounded by the funniest people on earth—Near and Light sure know how to crack some jokes—and drinking the best booze on the planet. And the best part is that I'm not even paying!

"—so then I went to the kitchen, 'cause I was hungry—" Light's words are slurry as he speaks, continuing a story of when he was back in Japan "—and when I open the fridge I see this delicious-lookin' cake in there, right?" Everyone nods, waiting for him to continue. "So I was about to grab it and eat, but then I notice a note—a freaking post-it, pink note—saying 'Don't eat me'." Misa giggles, followed my Mello's chuckles. "So I ate the cake anyway, and left a note saying 'I don't take orders from cake'." A roar of laughter follows soon after, and even Light is grinning at his own stupidity. Misa is screeching, Near is falling off his seat, bringing Rem with him, Mello is crying, and I can barely feel my stomach anymore. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life, and for what? A stupid story about cake!

"Oh, J-Jesus...!" Mello gasps, slapping his hand against the table as he tries to recuperate his breathing. Slowly, the laughter dies down, but the smiles never disappear. "God, my cheeks are hurting so bad, I can't even speak!"

"Light-kun, you're hilarious!" Misa happily comments, and I can't help but agree with her. I may not love the kid, but I have no problems admitting he can be cool, too.

"I'm glad you think that, Misa-chan," he replies, "but I'm afraid I've ran out of stories to tell!" That brings on another wave of giggles, though this one is much smaller and only last a couple seconds.

"Then why don't we play a game?" Rem, surprisingly, is the one who proposes that, and since we have nothing else to do (and it's too early to end the night at three in the morning at La Posh, everyone knows that), we agree to it. "But what should we play?" I ask.

Misa's face lights up with childish joy, and she raises her hand in excitement. "Oh, oh, oh! I know! Why don't we play Truth or Dare?"

"How about something adults can play, Misa-chan?" Mello retaliates, scoffing a little.

"Which is why we can play the naughty, dirty version of the game!" the blonde girl immediately adds, her grin widening.

That seems to get the attention of the other participants.

"And what would that be like?" Light asks, raising an eyebrow.

"We can dare anything we want to whomever we want."

"And if one of us decides not to go through with the dare?"

"Then that person has to do a body shot!"

Absolutely ingenious.

Everyone agrees to the rules, and Misa grabs an empty bottle of liquor from the floor and lays it in the middle of the low table. "I'll go first!"

And so the games begins.

"And next is..." The bottle spins, spins, spins, spins again, and then stops. "Matt!"

Fuck me. "Alright, shoot."

Misa giggles again. "No, silly! You have to pick Truth or Dare first!"

I grin back at her. "I'm not gonna pick anything unless I know what I'm getting myself into first!"

She pouts cutely at that, red lips looking amazingly tempting. "Fine, you meany, be a party pooper!" She taps her index finger against her chin as she pretends to think of what to ask, but that only lasts for two seconds. Her eyes narrow slightly as she sends me a wicked smile. "Okay, then, Mister. Is there anyone at this table you'd like to fuck tonight?" she asks, and she seems pleased with herself.

I let out a short laugh at that. "You mean besides you, beautiful?"

She laughs openly at that, as do the rest of our comrades, but she persists. "Truth or Dare, Mattie?"

My smile drops immediately.

Her lips are curved in an almost malicious little grin, and the way she's looking at me now suddenly seems inappropriate. It's like she's looking right into my mind, reading me like an open book. But that's impossible, isn't it? People can't read minds, I'm sure of that. Why am I even freaking out? It's just a game, and her question isn't even personal—I'm not afraid of openly declaring my attraction towards people. Maybe I've drank a little too much alcohol? Though I'm already bat-shit wasted, how much worse can it get? Yeah, that's it; it's just the alcoho—

She glances furtively at Mello, who's blissfully ignorant of my mental drama, and then back at me, and her grin widens a little more, her blue orbs clearly mischievous.

I gulp, my own green eyes widening a fraction at what her look implied.

She knows. I don't know how, but she knows. She's noticed. She's notice—noticed the lingering looks I've been giving Mello the whole time. She probably saw the want in my stares, and she probably misunderstood and now thinks I'm pining after my blond roommate. She probably thinks she's got me figured out, probably thinks she knows why I rejected her earlier.

She's probably right—about everything.

I nervously swallow back the questions I wanted to ask her—How? Why? When did you realize? Was it that obvious? Am I that obvious? Fuck, did he notice, too?—and force my lips into a sultry grin as I reply (miraculously managing to sound calm and cool), "Dare."

A few disappointed groans resound around me (Near being the loudest, the closet pervert...), but I ignore them.

And, as I see her mischief turn into triumph, I suddenly realize my mistake. But before I can even try to take back my words, she's already spitting out commands. "I dare you to kiss Mello."

Silence. No one speaks as her words sunk in but, when they do, the others are laughing and cheering and making cat-calls, probably too drunk to realize what the dare implied.

I try to play along to hide my nervousness as I say, "Well, ain't you a little pervert, Misa-chan?" I intended to purr her name, but it came out more like a sneer.

"I totally am," she agrees, with no shame whatsoever, as if she gives no fucks in the world—she probably doesn't; she is, after all, a stripper. And I've probably said 'probably one too many times, tonight. "And it has to be the dirtiest kiss you've ever given." Way to go making this dare even harder, love; thank you oh, so fucking much. "With a lot of tongue and teeth, and saliva dripping down your chins."

Light whistles wolfishly, Near blushes as he laughs, and Rem is chuckling like Misa has just said the funniest joke in history. I look at Mello, and freeze on the spot.

He's looking at me. Like, looking at me. Like he's fucking devouring me with his eyes, as if he's trying to peek into my soul. It's a little creepy, a little intimidating...

Mostly hot, because I can definitely detect lust in those darkened blue eyes of his.

He's thinking about it, I know he is. He's probably—there I go again, using 'probably'—remembering our little tryst back in high school, too; the handjob he'd given me behind the school on a Friday afternoon, the blowjob in the nurse's office, our steamy make-out session in the bathroom stall, a little dry humping in the empty science classroom when everyone else had either gone home or was doing club activities...

Kissing Mello wouldn't be anything new, especially considering all the other things we've done in the past. But kissing Mello while drunk and because of a dare, and especially after all the...emotional thoughts I've been having all night, would not be a good idea.

I know that. I know that very well...

...I guess I'm just gonna blame it on the alcohol, 'cause fuck it, I'm doing it anyway.

I give Misa a dirty look as I (almost angrily) push myself off the couch and saunter towards Mello—God, he looks delicious in leather, fuck—with sure, almost arrogant steps. I see Misa's jaw drop open in slight shock and take pleasure in it. She probably didn't expect me to actually go through with the dare. Light and Near are cheering drunkenly as I finally drop down to my knees in front of Mello—who'd positioned himself on the edge of his armchair in the meantime—so I'm at eye-level with him.

A slow smile curves his lips upwards, a sultry look swimming in his eyes, and I'n pretty sure my expression is mirroring his. I don't wait long, I don't stop to look at his face and burn every detail to mind—it's not a fucking chick-flick, time isn't slowing, and I've seen his face almost every day of my life, so I know perfectly well what he looks like—I don't need to do any of that shit. So, without further delay, I grab his face with both my hands and pull him towards me. Our lips meet halfway and smack at an awkward angle, but I don't stop to give it much thought, and Mello doesn't complain, either. It's not sweet, it's not slow, and it's most definitely not romantic—our kiss is sloppy, fast, hard, as if we haven't kissed in forever; and, now that I really think about it, it has been a (long, long) while.

Mello sighs in the kiss, tilts his head to the right as I tilt mine to the left, and then I feel his tongue sneakily sliding inside my mouth, and I let it. I let him dominate the kiss, if only for a moment, before I take things in my own hands again. One of my hands slides to the nape of his neck, and I grab a fistful of his blond locks—they're so smooth...—and pull his head back, following his retreating tongue into his own mouth and exploring every nook and cranny. A low moan makes his mouth vibrate, to which I reply with my own throaty groan, and I double my efforts.

Kissing Mello feels good. He knows exactly what to do to make the kiss more passionate, and I can tell he likes kissing me, too. I can tell by the way his hands fist my trade-mark striped shirt, pulling me closer; I can tell by how eager he is to follow my lead, to do some exploring of his own; by I can tell by all the little noises—the sighs, the moans, the soft grunts—that leave his mouth every now and then.

My lungs are starting to burn with the need for oxygen, but I refuse to step back—not yet, it's too soon, but I can feel Mello becoming uncomfortable, as well. Letting out a small grunt of disappointment—it's too soon—I break our heated kiss with a sloppy and smacking sound, and briefly move away in order to give us both some space to breath—

—only to have Mello immediately pull me back into another kiss with a sinful, needy whimper of his own. I'm shocked, but I don't let that stop me from kissing him right back once again. I notice that the cat-calls and whistles have stopped, probably have for a long time, and I feel a sick sense of satisfaction in my chest at that fact.

They wanted a show? Well, I'll fucking give them one.

Or so I want to do, at least, but I guess the others don't agree on that fact, because I suddenly hear Light call out, "Hey, whenever you two are done deep-throating each other's tongues, we'd like to continue the game, here!" Which is then followed by agreeing comments and grumbles on how "we're starting to attract attention from the other patrons of the bat".

With one last lick to Mello's bottom lip, I pull away for good, and am pleased to see a thing string of saliva connecting our lips. I open my eyes to the sight of the blond's flushed face and lust-filled blue eyes, and just that expression alone makes me wanna kiss him again.

"Mmm, Mattie," Mello whispers in a husky voice, a slow smile curving his swollen, red lips. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Not able to use my voice yet, I nodded in reply and slowly stood up, turning around and making my way back to my seat. As I sit back down, I meet Misa's shocked (and slightly red) face, and I smirk at her. "Now we can go back to the game," I say, feeling like the king of the world.

I really wouldn't mind having a more...private session of Truth or Dare with Mello when we get home...

I REGRET NOTHING.

Ultimma, I pass the ball to you!