Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the movies mentioned.

A/N: Hellooooo! ^-^

SPOILERS FOR BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! It's a really good movie, though. If you haven't seen it, you should. :)

"This is the greatest movie ever created," I announced to whoever might be listening. I held the DVD case up for Matt to see.

He looked at it skeptically. "The Godfather?"

I shrugged. "Mafia. And besides, it's Marlin Brando. I mean... come on. He's awesome."

"The reason the boss keeps glancing everywhere is because Brando refused to memorize his lines, and they wrote them on posters for him."

I grinned, looking adoringly at the movie. "I know, right? Isn't it cool? That's about as badass as it gets for an actor."

Matt rolled his eyes and smiled his lopsided smile. "Whatever. Let's get outta here. I've been out for like five hours in a row now and I'm sure our landlady is freaking out."

We had money at the moment, so Matt insisted that we borrow the movies legally. I grudgingly consented, but with much moaning and groaning so that he would know I didn't want to.

I drove, of course, and as I ran a red light I realized something. "Hey, Matt, you never told me what you got."

He turned as red as his hair, which he only does when he's more embarrassed than usual. He turned his gaze out the window, not looking at me but probably gauging my reaction in the window. "Brokeback Mountain," he said levelly.

I raised an eyebrow and glanced over at him, risking a few moments of not watching the road. "Seriously?"

"Yep."

I paid attention again when someone leaned on their horn. I considered flipping them off, but to be fair, I was driving in oncoming traffic at the time. "That's kind of weird," I informed my best friend when I had corrected my lane position.

Bless him, he didn't even look nervous about my driving. "It's sweet," he told me calmly, only a little defensively.

"It's gay."

"Love is love," Matt said quietly, still staring straight out the window.

I'm not a homophobe, and if Matt was gay, he'd still be my best friend. But, okay, let me just get this out there. I'm straight. Straight as an arrow. Straight as a board. Maybe a slightly warped board, because I... sometimes... find myself wanting to fuck the redhead senseless. Sometimes. Not all the time. Not every day. But my point stands: I'm completely straight. Women. Curves. Hair. Flowers. Makeup. Excellent stuff.

Alright, you get it.

...I mostly want to jump him when I see him hacking. There's just something about that.

Um, anyway.

"What'r you, gay?" I asked casually. I'd rather have actually confessed to him that I was wildly, madly, and desperately in love with him- and Marlin Brando- but this was as close as I could get.

Because I'm straight.

Okay, so I'm lying about being straight.

"Does it matter?" He was staring at me now.

Matter? Fuck yes it would matter! If he was gay then I'd have a shot!

But I couldn't risk getting as excited about it as I wanted to. He might just be really into gay rights. That sounded like something he would do- he's a really nice guy. Although if he was into gay rights he probably wouldn't mind if I was crazy in love with him... but his friendship...

No, I knew nothing could change our friendship. I was just scared shitless because I'd never told anyone, anyone about being a flaming homosexual. Flaming. Like, coming in my pants when I hear Brando's name when I'm not expecting it. Seriously, have you seen him in Streetcar Named Desire??

Really not all that straight in any way, shape, or form.

Some would say I wouldn't have to actually speak the words; that my outfit said it for me.

Those people are just jealous that they can't pull of leather midriff shirts, lace-up pants, and feathers. Bite me.

"Not really," I said eventually. "But... you know... as your best friend... I'd just want to know."

I could read him like a book, and I could see that he wasn't nearly as calm or indifferent as he was pretending to be at the moment. He was practically facing the window now, all twisted over in his seat to avoid eye contact.

"Then yeah. I am."

"Oh. Cool."

I marveled at how calm he managed to remain on the outside. Or, at least, I tried to. I couldn't really hear my thoughts over my blood flooding my brain and my heart finally deciding it had had enough of captivity and trying valiantly to escape my ribcage. My breath caught but I don't think he noticed.

"So... you wanna get some Chinese food and watch the movies?"

His ears pricked up like a dog's. I had said the magic words. He was a Chinese food fiend. It was hardcore.

"I'm getting sweet and sour pork," he declared.

Ah, Matt.

"Get a large and split it?" I offered. He had been an only child. Things like that were still exciting to him.

"Yeah!" he enthused.

He was practically bouncing in his seat by now. It's the simple pleasures, you know? And as long as I could make him smile like that, it didn't matter how many people I killed, what I'd done, or who I'd slept with to make it to where I am. As long as I could love him, even if I was a monster, I could still be human. Still have a reason. Because not many people can make him smile like I can.

"Call them now so it'll be done when we get there," I suggested.

He did, we picked it up, and soon we were home, prepared to stay up much too late watching movies.

"Godfather first," I said, turning off the lights. "Brando waits for no man."

"We don't have to watch Brokeback Mountain," Matt said awkwardly. "I mean, I'm good with Star Wars, too. We both like that."

I waved that away. Besides, I wanted to watch it with him. And I wasn't opposed to watching two guys have sex. I mean, I'd seen it in real life (and online. What.), so why would a few tasteful scenes in a movie be a problem?

...They knew I was there, pervert. I was sitting right next to them and they just jumped each other. Wasn't my fault. Plus I'd... you know... done it a few times.

"Brando, then gay cowboys," I insisted.

"Ranch hand," he mumbled. Interesting. He'd seen this movie before. Wasn't it based off a short story? Maybe he'd read that.

For the first time in my life, as The Godfather rolled on by, I couldn't focus. I kept looking at Matt eating his food, seeming so happy just to be there with me and watching a movie and eating his favorite food.

Finally, it was gay cowboy time.

He switched the DVDs, his ears a bit red, and then sat back down next to me on the couch.

I don't know if he noticed, but their sexual tension was directly correlated to ours. Whenever the guys got close, my arm that was nearest him started to tingle like crazy. And when Jack grabbed Ennis's hand and shoved it down his pants, I was sure I was gonna die.

Come all over myself, and then die.

I glanced at him subtly to see how he was taking it. He was red again.

"How far have you gone?" I asked him suddenly. That's me. Blunt blunt blunt. The gay cowboys were grunting in the background.

His eyes shot open wide and he made a face. "Um... why are you asking me that...?"

I shrugged. "I'd ask you that if you were into girls, too."

"Oh... um... okay. I've actually gone nowhere," he said. "I'm not really... open about it."

"Cool," I said boredly. But really my heart was doing that prison escapee thing again. I'm such a good actor. I mean look at me. Seriously.

They did it again only a few minutes later, which I enjoyed, and then the movie became mostly plot. That was okay; it had a pretty good storyline.

And then... like... one of them died. The seme dude Ennis just got his postcard to Jack returned with a stamp that said 'Deceased.' And Jack was dead. And...

And Matt was crying.

I was, too, but that was beside the point.

And then Ennis goes to Jack's parent's house, and he finds this deal with their two shirts, and he like clutches the shirt and he's breaking because the one he loves is gone...

It was like a stab in the heart, and Matt had to actually remove his goggles from his face to keep them from retaining water. He dropped them to his neck where they hung loosely.

He had such beautiful eyes. I wished he would show them more often.

I nudged him and he looked at me. I help out my arms. He was confused, but my message was clear, so he leaned into me and I held him, resting my chin on his head. I looked down and wiped his tears away with my thumb.

He just stared at me in the dark, his eyes unguarded for once, both by the goggles and by the emotion. He didn't say anything.

Poor guy was only holding a shirt. The one I loved was alive, in my arms, right here. Warm, safe, well-fed. He burrowed into me more and I squeezed him tighter.

"I love you, you know," I whispered to him.

I could feel every muscle in his body go stiff. "...What?" he said after a moment.

"I love you," I repeated. "You heard me."

"You... love me?"

Now I was actually uncomfortable. "Look, it's okay if you don't like me. I just thought you should know, and stuff."

The movie was over, and the unnecessarily depressing credit's music filled the room. He pulled away from me gently enough but sat up and stared at me.

"How could you possibly love me?" I couldn't see much in the dark, but I knew him well enough to know what his face looked like at the moment. It was probably his confused, slightly hurt face.

"Uh..." I said.

"Not like that. I mean, how could you possibly love me? Since when are you... what..."

"How do you think I got so high up in the Mafia so fast?"

"By scaring the shit out of everyone and shooting anyone who got in your way," he replied flatly.

A small smile ghosted across my lips. "There was a lot of that too. But when you do what I do, you have to be willing to... well... do anything. And... just... you know... I liked it with guys and didn't like it with girls, so I figured some things out."

He blinked at me, and without his goggles it was a much more expressive action. "Oh," he said blankly.

"Yeah." I shifted awkwardly.

He didn't say anything.

"Um... so yeah... like I said... I was just telling you. Sorry if that like... freaked you out... or something..."

"No. Well, yeah, but I'm mostly just... surprised? I mean... you dress really gay but that's about all."

I bristled, but I let it go in light of the situation. "You're not so obvious yourself. We've known each other since we were five and I never figured it out."

"I told you once, but you were drunk so I don't think you remember."

I raised an eyebrow. "You told me that and I didn't jump you?"

He shrugged. "You sort of started to, but you passed out."

Ah. "I see."

Awkward. Awkward. So awkward. Geeze, where was this going?

I decided to ask. "Where is this going?"

He shrugged again, more slowly. "I dunno."

"Can I kiss you?" I suggested.

I could see him blushing even in the dark.

"Um... yeah. I... I've never... so..."

I rolled my eyes. "You'll be fine. I'm good enough for the both of us."

He nodded silently.

I tilted my head, looking at him, debating how best to go about this. Here I had the one I'd known for as long as I could remember, my first friend, my first best friend, my first crush, my first love, my first fantasy... This is the guy that started me on guys. I was about to get his first kiss, and I had to make it count.

He likes video games, obviously, but I dunno of any famous video game kisses. Movies too... okay, Spider-Man? No, too difficult and I'd have to be upside down, because I was NOT gonna be MJ. Star Wars... no, that was creepy because they end up being brother and sister. Gone with the Wind? No, wait, I'd never seen that.

Well how about a Mello-brand kiss, then? No one had ever objected to one of those. I could throw him against a wall, or...

It only took a few moments to decide (I's a smrt cukie), but once I had my decision I knew it was the right one.

I moved forward on the couch until I was close to him again, trying to turn off the vibe of 'sex' that I was aware I radiated. This was just a kiss. And it was Matt. No one pushes Matt. Not even me.

I faced him. I reached out and lightly put the fingertips of my right hand on his cheek, but only barely. The lightness of the contact was electrifying, and I could feel that he was shaking. Already? Oh Matt...

I smiled gently at him, then leaned in, placing a feather's kiss on his forehead. When I pulled back to see his reaction, he looked very surprised. No, Matt, that's not all. I smirked and leaned in again, touching my lips to his forehead again, a fraction of an inch lower. Then I pulled back. He was so cute. I did it over and over, not retracting between kisses anymore, moving down at an infuriatingly slow pace that was driving both of us mad. That worked: my kisses got less gentle as I got more anxious. I worked my way down over the side of the bridge of his nose, down his cheek, and when I got to the corner of his lips, I stopped. I pulled back barely two inches, just enough to see him.

"Matt," I said softly, using my lowest voice. He opened his eyes, and my closeness to that beautiful blue was unbelievable. My heart was pounding, which hadn't happened because of a kiss in years. "I love you more than you'll ever know."

Tears sprang into his eyes but he held them back, blinking once, hard, and smiling slightly. He surprised me when he managed to whisper, although it was breathless, "I think I know. 'Bout the same as how much I love you, right?"

I stroked his face with the fingers I still had on it, then closed the small distance between us, touching our lips together. I went slowly, trying to teach him how to do it, but he didn't really need the help. He wasn't bad at all. That, and the fact that I was mind-blowingly in love with him probably blinded me a bit.

He must have read some romance novels (or fanfiction, more likely), because when I touched his lips with the tip of my tongue he seemed to know what it meant. He edged his mouth open just the right amount, which was refreshing, and I entered, meeting the tip of his tongue lightly, calmly, unhurried. This kid had instincts: he moved with me and deepened it when I did, submitting to my lead as we kissed intimately. I slid my fingers into his hair and played with it, and a little sighing moan escaped into my lips.

He reached out blindly and found my hips, and soon he was touching the skin around my midriff, and then he was moving lower, tugging at the waist of the leather, his fingers slipping to touch an area just south of that. I was surprised. Not that I minded, but I hadn't expected that.

I brought my other hand up to his face and kissed him hard, deeply, trying to force as much meaning as I could into it, and then released him, separating us.

He stared at me for an intense moment before he realized that he still had one hand halfway down the side of my pants and one on the outside at my crotch. He quickly removed them and dropped them on his lap. Thanks to the inadequacy of denim, I could see that he had an erection. Luckily my leather is so tight that things get held down pretty well, even if it's painful.

"Good?" I asked him. I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it.

"Mmm," he said.

Which was a yes. Excellent. Told you Mello-brand kisses always go over well. "Worth the wait?"

He nodded enthusiastically. I smirked and curled up on the couch, pulling my feet up, and then put my head on his lap, looking up at him. "Hi," I said cheerfully.

"Hi," he replied, and he bent forward and claimed my lips.

He wasn't third at Wammy's for nothing. Matt had always learned quickly, and this time he led. He ended it abruptly, though, before it could develop, and then straightened up in his seat, gazing at me.

If you had told me years ago that he could love me as much as I loved him, couldhave truly known how much that really is, I'd have shot you.

But seeing it with my own eyes, as he ran careful fingers over my lips and across my jaw almost reverently, as he whispered the words to me, as he smiled so gently, so tenderly that it took my breath away, I couldn't deny the truth.

He knew exactly how much I loved him.