Note: I'm sorry I didn't update the previous week end, but I was busy with my parents visiting! I'll try to write chapter 4 tomorrow since I have a day off, to make up for that!
So, Mello is beginning to embarrass Matt, aha! And that's only the beginning, I promise!

Mello
As I sat in the redhead's car, not even waiting for his approval to drive me home, I felt a pinch of guilt as I watched him walk to the driver's side, looking helpless and annoyed.
I admit it, I was making him pay more for my frustration that he was straight and out of reach than for the pants themselves. It was true that I wouldn't have time to go back home, change my leather pants and go back to the amphitheatre in time for the first class of the afternoon if I had to walk or take the bus, but I could have skipped the class, it wasn't a big deal since we were in university and didn't have anyone to check our presence, or I could have called a cab.

But it was way more appealing to find a reason to act like a bitch with him. Not only could I have a (unfair, ok...) reason to bother him, but I could spend some time with him and steal some nice views of his ass and long legs. God, those legs, they were giving me chills just by looking at him sit on the driver's seat.
Why did a straight guy wear so tight fitting jeans?

He started the car and left the parking lot without a word, clearly trying to avoid meeting my eyes. I could tell he was nervous, by the way his fingers tapped the stirring wheel as he waited for the barrier to open.

"Where do you live?" he finally asked, briefly looking at me and catching me staring at his legs. He became redder than his car and his eyes became as wide as plates, as he looked in front of him again.
"I'll give you directions, drive downtown for now." I replied, amused. If I couldn't get him, I could at least have some fun traumatizing a homophobe.

He drove in silence, following the directions I gave him from time to time. It was hilarious to see his legs stick together as if he was trying to prevent me from raping him mentally. And it gave him some issues to drive, which was even funnier.
"I'm not going to jump you, y'know?" I said blankly when I wasn't having fun anymore, the silence becoming a bit heavy as he parked along the building where I lived.
He turned his head to look at me and scrutinized my face, probably to check if I was kidding or not. I tried to keep a serious expression although I knew I wouldn't be long to burst into laughters, which I did when he finally spoke.
"What? I'm not sexy enough for you?"

I didn't expect him to say that, and to tell the truth, I appreciated it. And hated it at the same time. Somehow he had seen in me that I was playing with him and was playing along. Usually, people never understood my sarcasm, humour or irony, whichever I used. The game was over and the cocky guy was back.
But I couldn't help but laugh my ass off although I didn't like that he seemed to see through me, his grin had replaced his uneasy behaviour, and the way his eyes wrinkled upward and a dimple appeared among his freckles just made me fall deeper for him. Shit.

Matt
I wasn't happy about the situation. Not at all. Even less when I noticed that he was focusing on my legs. I felt naked under his gaze, and that was probably what he was imagining from the lustful light in his eyes. I focused on the road, trying to will the nausea away.

We finally arrived where he lived, and I was quite surprised to see he had made me stop there, the block was one of the most expensive of the city and I thought that we were just passing by, not that he actually lived here. I guess he was from a rich family, although I could guess by the fact there were mainly studios here that he lived alone, without his family. A spoiled rotten kid, probably. Thus the behaviour.

"I'm not going to jump you, y'know?" he suddenly said. WTF???
I stared at him in disbelief. I knew he had been checking me out all the time the drive had lasted, and it was impossible that he hadn't noticed my discomfort, but stating things bluntly like this just made his homosexuality more real, closer to me, and it gave me creeps.

But far beyond his irises, I saw a game playing. He was making a totally serious face, but I don't know, I could feel it radiate from him: he was toying with me. And despite the fact I felt like running away from his gayness, from his stare on my legs, from everything he was, I couldn't help but want to play along. He looked like a cat rolling a wool ball, and I felt like the wool ball needed to throw itself at his face.
"What? I'm not sexy enough for you?"

He laughed at my answer, and where I would have expected him to giggle, he just had a manly laughter, nothing like I would have imagined. Maybe I was just too much stuck in clichés...
I caught myself staring at his face as he laughed. He wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to laugh, actually. He looked badass, serious, kinda dangerous even, for some unexplained reason, and him laughing totally changed his face to an angelic hue. Yes, he was a beautiful person, even I could admit it. Did that sound gay? Oh, hello nausea, again...

I snapped back to reality a second before him, fortunately, otherwise he could have had imagined things.
His laughter ended as quickly as it had begun, and he hopped out of my car.
"Come on." he called to me, slamming the passenger's door closed.

"I'll wait for you here." I said. I already felt like leaving him there and drive away as fast as I could, so entering his home was a big no no. I was regretting my stupid reply from earlier, why did I even talk to him? He was making me feel stupid and uneasy, and I really didn't want to have anything to do with him, let alone joke with him.

Mello
God, was he annoying.
"I'm not trying to drag you into my bed, I'm trying to prevent you from being harassed by the cops. The neighbourhood is under surveillance and they'd probably take you for a drug dealer, waiting here in your car. So come on."

He followed, reluctantly of course, keeping an obvious secure perimeter between him and me, frowning. Was he bipolar or what? Where did the cocky guy go once again?

Inside of the building's hall, I reached for the elevator's call button. I could hear the redhead shift from one foot to another behind me, and it was beginning to get on my nerves, having him so blatantly unwilling to be in my presence, or better said in the presence of a homosexual guy. But he entered the elevator anyway, standing as far as me as possible in the small cubicle. He almost started when I simply raised a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my eyes, and I was sure that if he could have carved his body into the metal wall of the elevator, he would have.

Once I opened the door of my flat, he hesitated outside. I looked at him, sighing in annoyance, and he stepped in, looking down, almost guiltily.

I decided to have some more fun, since my flat consisted of a single room that was all at once my living room, bedroom and kitchen, the bathroom and toilets being the only separate place in my small studio.
I began to strip from the damage pants I was wearing, threw them on the back of my couch, and walked nonchalantly to my drawer to pick up a new pair. Did I mention I was going commando? (Which was the obvious reason why I didn't want to go to class with a hole right on my butt).

The redhead stared, mouth hanging open, for a brief moment, more of shock than a real will to stare, and as I was lacing the front of my pants, focusing on the strings, I heard the door slam, and he was gone.
I smirked and finished what I was doing before grabbing my messenger bag and exiting my apartment. I guess I would have to call a cab if I didn't want to be late for the first lesson of the afternoon, that was supposed to begin in twenty minutes.

I was surprised to see him his back against the wall in the corridor, I really thought that he had ran away after my little tease. But he was there, looking devastated, but there.
I walked past him and called the elevator again.
When the automatic doors opened and I stepped in, he hesitated for a second, and turned around, heading for the stairs. When I exited the building, he was already sitting in his car.

The drive back to university was as silent as the Dead. It wasn't even funny.
He stopped right in front of the amphitheatre, obviously to let me out, which I did, a bit surprised that he didn't just drive to the parking lot directly, since we still had more than five minutes before the beginning of the class.
I watched the back of the Camaro leave, and went inside of the building. I don't know what he was thinking, if he was angry or shocked, and it bothered me that I cared.

Matt
I saw his ass. I saw his dick. I saw everything I didn't want to see. I was far beyond nausea, I felt like a big red sign stating I had been touched by a gay atmosphere was flashing on my forehead. I almost felt dirty.
I don't know why, but I was sure that everyone was staring and laughing at me, like if everyone knew what had just happened. It was stupid, of course, but shit, why did he have to do that? I perfectly knew he had provoked me, and that he was playing with me, but I had nothing to reply to such a provocation.
I hated him. That's all I could think at that moment. Hating him for showing parts of him I wished he hadn't, hating him for sitting in my Love Machine with all his gayness, hating him for making Layla dump me, hating him for making me feel sick with his presence, hating him for everything he did, said or was.

I sat still in my car, and breathed in and out regularly, wanting to get rid of the anger in me. But I was unable to will it away. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that took me long minutes to identify (I tend to do that, when I feel bad, I peel off every layer of the feelings in me and try to analyse each of them, understanding is the only thing that helps me keep my head cold and up. My dad says I got that from my mother, she never acts on impulse, she thinks twice before doing anything and is always very cold headed and collected. That's probably why I'm such a jerk with girls... some kind of calculation from my part to get the best of life, in a life that's not really easy for me... oh, I have a happy family, but it's not the greatest pleasure in the world to see the ones you love struggle to feed you, dress you and give you a decent home...)

It took me longer than I expected, because I suddenly saw, from the distance, the blond fag exit the amphitheatre. I've been sitting in my car for one full hour, and I still hadn't sorted my feelings out. Shit. And I still had to pay for his damaged pants. I roared my Camaro's motor back to life, and exited the parking lot, stopping at his level and opening my window.
"You didn't tell me how much I owe you for the pants." I said blankly, not even looking at him. The hate was coming back and it was hard not to show it.
"Two hundred bucks." he replied, and I could feel his piercing eyes on me. How did he do that, letting you know he was glaring at you even if you didn't even see his eyes? No, I don't even want to know...

Two hundred buck. Holy fuck. I expected something expensive, but not so much...
"Ok, just give me some time to gather the money..." I was devastated, I didn't even know how to get such an amount in a short time, I guess he wouldn't wait forever.