Because it's one of my favorite pairings at the moment. Contains no spoilers, unless you somehow know Matt but haven't finished reading the 13 pages on wich he apears...

It's light yaoi, very light, if you don't like cuteness with two guys, I would hit the back button. Or read it anyway, just don't pretend I didn't warn.

Disclaimer: ...of course, I don't own it.

enjoy.

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When I wake up, all I see is black.

A black room, with even a darker light reflecting on the still silhouette lying beside me, peacefully asleep. Your shiny blonde hair almost seems misplaced in this pit of darkness. I smile, although nobody would be able to see me. You mumble a bit, and roll over towards me, revealing your fair sleeping face. You lie always on your left side since the accident, letting the covers and your silken strands hide the molten part of you face.

You'd always claim you hate that scar and it's ugly, but I think it suits you somehow. It shows your life, who you are, and what you've been through.

You hands suddenly moves towards my waits, trying to capture back the warmth that was gone when I sat up. Fingers lightly trace my stomach, tickling my skin and emitting a soft grunt from my lips. I almost start to believe that you're awake, but then you sigh and your hand stops moving, contented with the way it lays across my belly. You smile in your sleep, and somehow, I think I know what you're dreaming of.

Last night was wonderful.

For once, you weren't your scowling, bitching and aggressive self, for once I wasn't the unemotional smoking gamefreak.

You just sat on our shared bed, not saying a word, staring of in the distance.

You almost looked vulnerable to me…well, to a stranger's eye you would still look like a psychopath though.

I don't know how, I don't know why, but suddenly I was hugging you, and you let me.

You were lying with your head on my shoulder and just kept staring at that distant spot on the ceiling. When I kissed you, you let me, only looking at me with those green orbs, a tender look of guilt sending shivers down my spine. I'd hear you whisper, although you didn't say a word; 'I'm sorry'
As if fearing never to see me again.

As if apologizing for the order that you've given to me.

As if you really cared.

Perhaps it was the booze speaking, but at that moment, I thought you where absolutely adorable. Embracing you then, ignoring any sense of wrong and right, like heaven. It didn't felt like committing a sin, but like doing something beautiful.

And when you laid under me, naked and moaning softly - silent begging for more - I felt like you've never given yourself to anyone before.

I was happy.

Your eyes still held that apology the whole night, but you know, it's alright.

If you hadn't given me that order, I would have thought of it and done it myself anyway, and you know why?

Because I love you.

I love the way you look when something went well. I love the way you grumble, the way you yell at me to 'fucking get the fuck the fucking chocolate already, fuck it'.

I love the way you actually care about everything Near does, although you don't show it. I love the way you're nice, even if you don't act that way.

I would do anything for you, even if it meant dying. I'm almost sure I will now anyway. I've looked up all information, and I almost know for sure I won't survive this plan, but it will the best for you. I know I can help you, thus I will, and I'm sorry for not telling you.

The bed creaks when I get up softly and go to the window looking over a deserted street. It's still dark outside, I notice when I lift up the curtains a bit. Still an hour or so to go until dawn.
I sigh softly.
It's more than a bit painful to wait after all. I look over my shoulder to you, your hair draped over the pillow, creating a golden crown above your head. Shrugging a bit to myself, I decide to get my clothes and my jacket and smoke a bit outside. If I would smoke here, I know you would be pissed when you wake up, and although I love your angry face, today isn't a good time for it. I want to remember your smiling face at least when I die.

When you wake up, I'm already back. The smell of fried eggs fills the room as I've decided to make breakfast for a change.
I think I'm going sentimental.
Your eyes blink slowly a few times, and stare at the little kitchen. Realization dawns at you when you feel the blanket tickling your skin, and the small wince when you sit up is enough to fully remember last night. I grin; making sure you won't see it.
"'Morning. Breakfast's almost finished." I greet with a casual voice.
I'm met with silence, save for a soft groan and rustle of clothes. I know you're getting dressed and looking at me with a burning gaze, for I'm certain to feel two holes in my back.

Then suddenly, without warning, I feel two arms wrap around me, holding me tightly. For a moment we both don't move, silence filling the room, trying to figure out our thoughts. Or just trying not to think at all. I can feel your heartbeat through your leather, and it's beating frantically against your chest. I lean my head backwards to rest against your shoulder as you gentle kiss in my neck.

When we leave the room, I don't look back. If I would, I would see a messy place with wires everywhere. I would see dark corners piled up with clothes and papers. I would see a kitchen, plates and cups filthy on the table, not bothered to clean up. I would see a bed, messy with blanket thrown a bit restless aside. If I would look better, I would be able to see two forms into the matras and know that were you and me.
I don't look back and slam the door shut behind me.

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