Halloooo! I actually wrote something almost all by myself x3 On MangaBullet, the lovely A-Pseudonym actually did a little request for me in the way of an awesome pic ('tis on MangaBullet), so I'm thanking her by writing this :3 Ish both on MangaBullet and my Deviantart account, buth under DessArtem. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this, 'cause I'm ever so proud of it! :D

Matt n' Mello copyright the Death Note peoples, natme. Bob the box and Zeb the couch concepts copyright A-Pseudonym. The toaster concept copyright me n' Twi

It all started with Zeb, the suitably-named, zebra-patterned couch that was Mello's favorite connection to the few good parts of his former life as a mobster, besides the leather of course.

"Matt, what the hell are you doing back there?" Matt jumped, having not noticed Mello sprawled on Zeb, since he thought he'd gone to bed an hour or so prior.

"Er, nothing…"

"Then why do I smell…Is that…window cleaner? The fuck?" Matt stood up, looking vaguely sheepish at being caught. He scratched the back of his deep red hair, minding the goggle straps, noticing idly how tangled it had gotten.

"Er…"

"Matt…Why do you have window cleaner behind Zeb?" Mello looked quite dangerous, even more so with the gun in his right hand, pointer finger tapping the side of it irritatedly.

"There is a very good explanation for that…And I'll give you said explanation as soon as I think of it…" Mello glared and raised his gun up, not pointing it directly at Matt, but getting closer.

"Maaatt…" he practically snarled, not amused.

"Okay, okay! Yeesh. The truth is…Well…Don't kill me for this, but…Zeb stinks." He flinched at Mello's angry twitch, hoping his goggles were bullet-proof.

"…You're spraying a bottle of window cleaner behind my couch ON my couch…because it stinks…," Mello said, voice and face even. That was NOT a good sign.

"Er…Yes?" Matt found himself face-up on the ground with a hot blond in his lap. Usually he'd be very happy for it, male or female, but not when said blond was a furious Mello with a gun pointing between Matt's eyes. He reeeally hoped his special light-dimming goggles were bulletproof… "Hey, chill out, man! I'm doing you a favor here!" Mello's face contorted into a more angry grimace of a snarl, the gun pressing closer to Matt's face, causing his goggles to dig uncomfortably in. Mello himself leaned forward as well, getting closer, icy blue eyes shining with rage. Matt gulped, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face, from fear or another emotion he'd rather not bring up. "Um…I'm sorry?"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT SHIT COULD DO TO THE UPOLSTRY?!!" Mello roared. It was times like these when Matt wondered how anyone could think Mello looked like a girl. It was when he was happy (Ha, those were the days.) that he looked at all feminine, though he was always incredibly handsome.

"I was only trying to-"

"Ruin Zeb were you?! I know you don't like him, but this is too fucking far!"

"I'm sorry! I was just-"WHACK. In a flash of black and skin, the gun was raised before suddenly making contact with Matt's cheek and jaw, causing Matt's head to whip to the side like with so many people in so many similar scenes in so many movies. Matt spit out a little gob of blood and small shards of tooth while his head was to the side, feeling the side of his lip start to swell and his face throb as he looked back up at Mello, shocked he'd actually do something like that. Sure, Mello had punched him, kicked him, thrown stuff at him, but had NEVER taken a heavy object and whacked him in the face with it like that.

Matt's look of shock and hurt turned to more shock when he saw the look on Mello's face. It was only there for a moment, then Mello quickly stood and turned at the same time and scrambled fast as he could into the bedroom before slamming the door shut.

Well, that was unexpected. Matt sat up, moving his jaw around. It was still intact, and he still had all his teeth save for one being broken. He spit out some more blood, less this time, and went into the bathroom to check his face. Ew. There was a bit of a cut on his lip, which was indeed quite swollen and purple. His cheek and jaw were red and turning purple as well, but not quite so much. There was another slightly-lacerated indentation down on his jaw from where the trigger ring had hit.

Well, he'd had worse. He rinsed his mouth with some tap water to get the last of the blood out, and then grabbed a couple tissues to stop the tiny bit of bleeding from the two cuts. He winced at the contact with the bruising.

"Ow…Really got me good this time." He got an uneaten, vaguely frostbitten steak from the kitchen freezer, wondering where it came from but glad it was there since he didn't have ice cubes, wrapped it in a ratty hand towel so he himself wouldn't get frostbite, and pressed it gingerly against his face. He half-grinned with the good side of his mouth, amused at how low his standard of living was for being the number one hacking threat and number three genius in the world (last time he checked, at least. Who knows if someone bested him while he'd been gone from Wammy's? He never cared, and still didn't.) No wonder Mello found the place generally not-right.

Matt laughed in remembrance of the looks Mello gave him and the apartment when Matt had helped him into the living room for the first time, bandaged and weak, so he could see the place and sit on the couch as a change from lying in Matt's bed for weeks. His face had then lit up at the sight of his favorite zebra-pattern couch that Matt had gone back to get when he'd noticed it was still pretty much intact at the explosion site. He hadn't known Mello loved it so much; he just knew he needed a couch, so didn't look the gift horse in the mouth and picked it up, regardless of the burns and soot. Mello was always so easy to read, his face like a bowl of water that reacted to every touch, and the delight on his face made him glow more than his flaxen appearance did by nature of coloration. Matt felt his face and insides grow warm at the thought of Mello actually happy after all that torture of healing and stuff. He even laughed a little.

"…I smack you in the face with a handgun and you're LAUGHING?" said a sudden voice from the bedroom doorway. Matt half-grinned at him.

"Yep."

"You're weird…" Mello quickly turned toward the couch and moved to sit on it when Matt made eye contact. Matt shifted the position of the steak on his face to get maximum relief, just waiting for Mello to decide what he was going to do next. Mello was obviously conflicted about whatever it was Mello was conflicted about. Matt was glad to know that it was Mello feeling bad for hitting him quite that harshly, but not for hitting him in general, since Mello was a one-man violence machine. He had no qualms about hitting Matt in general, but actually causing that much damage had never been Mello's intention, ever. Matt already forgave him, but knew Mello needed to forgive himself. So, he just waited, silently triumphant that he could still read Mello after all this time, at least when he was showing his true self and not mister tough mafia-guy mask thing.

Mello snatched one of the many chocolate bars from Bob the box, Matt's cardboard stand-in for a coffee table, unwrapped it with swift fingers, and snapped the corner off, idly holding it between his teeth and licking what his tongue could reach of it. Matt felt his stomach rise or drop, he couldn't tell, and blood flush downward at the always-erotic sight, but he quickly took a deep breath and did his best to push the feelings away. Mello was Mello, the super-Catholic, hateful of anyone being close to him (though Matt was a bit of an exception in ways), asexual (far as Matt knew, but there was no way the blond was gay) Mello. Oh well. At least Matt had plenty of Mello to himself; though there were boundaries he didn't like but dealt with.

The blond finished the chocolate bar more slowly than usual, trying to stall some time, but it didn't last as long as he liked and in no time the wrapper was all that was left. He glared thoughtfully at it, cursing it for his inability to not disappear. He took a deep breath, glanced at Matt, then glared down at poor Bob, who would have a sizzling hole in him if Mello's glares really were as intense as people said they were. Matt held his breath and tried not to grin again or burst out laughing.

"…Sorry…" Dun dununUUUUN!!! And the main attraction for the day was THERE! Mello actually APOLOGIZING!! Now Matt really did grin, but luckily didn't laugh. It wasn't really anything to laugh at really.

"'S okay." He managed to sound indifferent to it all, which was his forte anyways, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not moving unless he needed to (aka in case Mello needed him to). Mello glanced back at him, obviously feeling better but doing his best not to show anything, and then glanced away again. "Sorry I called your couch smelly. I was just trying to get the smell of smoke out of it, since I know you don't like it," the redhead said conversationally.

"…So you used window cleaner?"

"Hey, it was all I really had! And you'd kill me if I touched your cologne." Mello's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile.

"…True." The mood was magically lightened! Matt, feeling safer, meandered over to Zeb the couch and flopped down next to his favorite blond, shifting the melting steak again. Mello looked vaguely guilty at the sight, a little, but said nothing.

"Ah, it's fine. No big deal," Matt said, waving it off with his unoccupied hand for emphasis.

"I shouldn't've hit you like that…"

"No, but it's okay."

"I made you bleed! And your face is all bruised!"

"I've had worse."

"…You're such a freak…still!"

"Yeah, so they tell me." He put his feet up on Bob, minding the chocolate and careful not to squash the poor box. He idly wondered why they kept naming furniture…

"You don't even react when I smack you in the face with three pounds of pure metal!" Maybe they should name that stupid toaster… "Are you even listening to me?!" Maybe "Dingy", since it kept dinging at him at random times… "Helloooo?" …even when unplugged! Or maybe-"MATT!"

"Yes?"

"Will you STOP IGNORING ME?!" Matt grinned.

"I'm not ignoring you. You're calling me a freak because I don't react when you lose your temper and hit me with stuff. I'm kinda used to it, Mels." He took a little guilty pleasure at the look of pure irritation scrunching up Mello's face. It was really quite cute. Wow. He must've been totally twisted to call Mello being angry CUTE.

"Hmph." Mello crossed his arms, turned his body away from him, and sulked. Matt laughed a little and felt suddenly emboldened.

"Mello, Mello, Mello…" He put the steak down on the floor, not caring if it got the carpet soaked.

"…" Mello was determined to ignore him. Oh well. He'd react soon. Matt moved quickly and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling him back (mindful of the healing burns) into his lap, pinning his arms crossed across him to him.

"…The fuck are you doing?" See?

"Hugging you."

"Why?"

"Because I want to." Matt braced himself for the snarling, struggling, thrashing, and eventual cringing in pain of the blond in his lap.

"…Kay." Mello shifted a bit to get comfortable, resting his head back on Matt's shoulder. Matt blinked, surprised but very, very happy. He hoped Mello wouldn't feel anything down there…

"Comfy?"

"You make a good seat." Phew, he didn't.

"Better than Zeb?"

"No. You're too bony."

"I thought you said I make a good seat!"

"Fat people can be bony too."

"Hey!" Mello laughed a real, pure, laugh. Matt stuck his lower lip out in a half-swollen and bruised pout, though Mello couldn't see, but he knew Mello knew he was.

Mello knew he was pouting and smiled, glad Matt was acting more like himself and not so reserved like he'd been during the whole ordeal. Maybe Matt was starting to trust him again now that he was used to him, maybe a shell Matt had created to protect himself from the world was being cracked, or maybe…Matt really liked him as much as Mello did.

Ha, yeah right.