Title: "Fully Alive"
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mello won't understand Near's apprehensive attention to snow and Near won't understand Mello's persistent fascination with him. Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Death Note belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.
A/N: Just a cute little Wammy' House Christmas story. Takes place shortly before L took Kira's case.
FULLY ALIVE
When it snowed Near felt restless. He would launch his toy rockets in the spacious living room of Wammy's House and press the remote control buttons anxiously, directing the sleek bullet-like bodies towards the high ceiling. Once, he lost control of the rocket and smashed the window. The toy vanished beyond the dense curtain of snow, right to the stars (or so Near would have liked to think).
The boy came up to the window caustiously and peered through the hole. A gust of wind blew in his face. Near drew back, streaks of melting snow glistening on his cheeks. He batted his damp eyelashes in wordless surprise.
The door creaked.
"Damn, Roger's gonna give you hell!" Mello giggled, shutting the door behind him. He took a generous bite of a supersized candy bar that was clutched in his hand and grinned at Near.
"I doubt it." Near wrinkled his nose as a few drops of melted snow slid sown his nosebridge. "I wonder how high the percentage of the snowfall is right now. By morning we might end up having a colossal snowdrift."
Mello uttered an incoherent 'pfft' and stretched his long legs out on the sofa. Near skewed his eyes up on the chunk of dark chocolate peeking out of the silvery foil wrapping. It didn't escape his attention that Mello wasn't wearing his pajamas. Instead, he was dressed in street clothes, and his trouser-legs were drenched in snow.
"Roger's definitely not going to be happy about that," he remarked nonchalantly before going back to his toys.
"Ah, rubbish! I mean, c'mon, I'm old enough to be allowed to choose where I spend holidays!"
Mello's eyes sparkled with excitement. He might have been a little drunk; Near shouldn't have been surprised.
"Hey, what's with you and these winter nights? Seems like you're a bit off all the time."
"Look who's talking," Near hummed serenely.
"Uh-huh! I was having fun, not going crazy in a dark room. It affects you the way the full moon affects a werewolf, heh!"
Near shrugged. He liked toys more than people and had never felt uncomfortable about it. Mello, on the other hand… Mello didn't like anything except maybe chocolate – and Matt. He didn't like people either though he had always been on good terms with them, and God forbid to imagine he liked Near. Yet Near valued their hostile relationship. Mello wanted to surpass him and did everything for it even when Near himself wasn't being competitive. He was a wild fire to Near's apathy.
"I got an idea!" the hurricane of a boy chimed all of a sudden. His shrill voice rang loud in the still living room; Near thought it was time to get worried. "If you don't like snow, let's go somewhere where you can't see it. Let's go… to the basement!"
"No," Near cut him off automatically. "It's a bad idea."
"Whyyyy?" Mello drawled, crouching up to the edge of the sofa in a spider-like style and towering over Near.
"Because it comes from you. Anything that comes from you is a bad idea by default."
Mello burst out laughing. "Miracles of logistics! That's why you're the best!"
Near's attempt to ignore him was brutally disrupted by a forceful jerk at the sleeve of his pajamas. Mello wrapped his fingers around the boy's foreshoulder, and forced him up on his feet, and dragged him out of the room.
"Come o-o-on!" he whined theatrically. "It's gonna be fun! If you like I'll give you my toy air jet that you used to ogle."
'Ogle' wasn't exactly the term Near would pick to describe his actions; but then again, Mello had always thought he knew better.
The boys slithered down the stairs, crept quietly along the hall and came down to the dark basement. Near tripped and tumbled on the floor with a small whimper. Dust swathed in thick greyish puffs around him. He rubbed the aching knee; a piece of flayed skin peeked through the torn patch on his trouser-leg. He wiped the blood and the dirt off and limped towards Mello who was ogling the power generators and the heating system pipes gleefully.
"Just check this out! It's almost like Silent Hill!"
"Yeah, wow," Near muttered as unenthusiastically as he could manage.
"That hurt?" Mello asked, pointing at his knee.
Near shook his head. Wandering amidst the pipes and dusty metallic constructions with prohibition signs on their dim grey walls felt like being part of some trash horror movie. The boy hunched a little as though to look less conspicuous.
Mello's glee exploded into a shrill outcry-turned-groan as soon as he came across a cupboard of old rubbish in the far corner of the underground kingdom. Like a miniature hurricane he swept past his companion and dived into the never-ending swamp of old dust-smelling fabric, broken items of clothes sprinkled with various small stuff.
There was a half empty box of pencils, some lacking cartridges, one covered in bitemarks; a packet of old comic books, crammed pages stained with various substances over the years; a fairly decent Sunday church dress and dozens of other curious things.
"What on earth is all that?" Mello exclaimed as he rummaged through the stuff.
"Nothing. All the impractical stuff that remains after someone has left this place."
"Nothing!? You call that nothing!? That's damn priceless!"
He spotted a dim golden handlet stuck between two massive objects of unknown purpose and pulled at it. It gave in after a few failed attempts. It happened to pertain to a delicate golden cup covered in patterns a few shades paler against the darker background.
"Whoa! Gotta be one of L's tennis cups!" Mello drew out.
Near looked around. It was probably getting lighter outside. For all he knew, snowfall might have already stopped. In view of this hypothetical circumstance the basement suddenly seemed dreadfully inhospitable.
"Mello," the boy said quietly. "Let's go upstairs. Roger might be looking for us."
"Nah, he's not! Won't be until later in the morning." The older boy turned round and took another bite of his oversized chocolate bar. "Wussup? Scared, huh? Or does the knee hurt?"
Near looked down at the dust layer that stained his slippers. The basement was cold, dry and dirty. A fat spider crept along the wall and came to a halt opposite Near's face.
Mello sat on the floor, dusting off the tennis cup.
"Why do you do it every other winter night?" Near brought himself to ask. The way Mello's eyes gleamed – almost too innocently – was rather unnerving. "Despite your strong dislike of me you keep spending time in my company. Isn't it a bit… controversial?"
"Dislike? It's not dislike," Mello chuckled. "I hate you."
Near nodded impassively and lowered himself beside his companion. The foil rustled quietly; Mello freed the next part of the bar and grinned delightfully. His eyes fixed on Near's wound, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss upon the split skin. A soft gasp escaped Near's lips.
"What are you–?"
"Tssch!" Mello demanded. He grasped the boy's knee tight, his tongue lapping at the skin sensually. Pain shot through Near's hurt limb.
Mello positioned himself between the boy's legs, grinding Near's hips against his own. He swept his hands over the soft cotton of Near's PJ's and leaned in to kiss him.
"Don't," Near murmured softly.
"Why not?"
"I'm not interested." With any other person body language alone would have been enough to counter these words. But Mello knew Near well enough to remember he'd never acted on a whim. "Besides… why would you expect me to kiss someone who doesn't brush his teeth every night?"
Mello burst out laughing. "I do! It's just that I often have a snack afterwards."
They had never understood each other. Near relaxed and watched Mello calmly as the older boy nipped at his neck gently; and then suddenly he pressed his lips against Near's, tongue forcing its way into Near's mouth. Mello's mouth tasted like cocoa, hot and delicious. By the time he pulled back Near wanted to spit – to do anything just to get rid of that clogging taste.
"I almost forgot why I dislike you," Mello scoffed. "You're so blank. Faceless. Fucking pristine like the first snow. But don't forget what happens after the first footprint is left on the snow."
They made their way upstairs in silence. At the foot of the stairs leading to the dorms Mello came to an abrupt halt.
"Whoever makes it to bed first gets the other's Christmas pudding!"
"You're so awfully immature," Near sighed. It was a stupid competition, and absolutely pointless for that matter: Near always gave his dessert up, mostly to L whenever he happened to drop by.
"Ha! I'm not the one who plays with dolls at the age of thirteen!"
He grabbed Near by the hand and tugged him along. The boy had no chance to protest. They ran up, skipping the steps; Near noticed the day was beginning to dawn. Mello's eyes flickered towards the high lancet-window. The sky was still dark blue; against it, pallid pink light glimmered faintly. Near was the first one to spot a dark silhouette on top of the stairs. He tugged at Mello's sleeve, trying to get him to slow down, to no avail. With a small whimper Near collided into the man's slightly hunched back.
The man turned around slowly. The snarl that flashed upon Mello's lips vanished as if by magic.
"L!" he exclaimed cheerfully. The familiar dark eyes grew wider as the young man leaned in to regard the boys with a heavy searching look. Near was suddenly aware of how untidy he must have looked: trousers torn, covered in dust and dirt and drops of blood, disheveled hair.
L squinted suspiciously. "Why do you two look like you're fresh out of a coal bunker?"
Mello giggled and tried to disguise it with an incoherent snort. L goggled his eyes and uttered a long 'hmm?' that sounded somewhat scary.
'He probably thinks we've been trying to kill each other,' the boys echoed each other's thoughts unwittingly.
"Competition," Near said in his quiescent voice. L drew forth, his eyes on the same level as Near's eyes. His slanted eyebrows met in a mildly ironic frown.
"You're already better at lying than I am," he observed.
Near couldn't refrain from blushing. L would always see through them, no matter what. Maybe that was just him being L.
"Did you bring me anything? Did ya, did ya?" Mello blurted out.
"Go clean yourselves up, boys, otherwise you get no presents," an old man's voice that held a hint of laughter to it said. Near tensed. Great! Now Roger had seen them too!
"Stop chastising me, I'm not a damn kid anymore!" Mello barked; nevertheless, he rushed to his room immediately to scrub the dirt off and change into more decent clothes. Near cast a single glance at L and vanished into his bedroom. L chuckled quietly.
"The boys love you very much," Roger said upon approaching. "Even if they don't show it."
"Yes," L mused. "I brought presents."
"Don't get this idea that you're some twisted kind of Santa for Mello. He's just very materialistic. He judges everyone by that standard. Near on the other hand is much more abstract. Together they are unbeatable. Too bad they haven't realized it yet."
L's smile grew wider. "I wonder what happens if you keep clashing them, Roger?"
The old caretaker frowned kindly and remarked: "Why don't you try giving Near a chocolate bar and Mello a toy robot?"
Near liked snow. It was cold and dazzling in the sunlight and very-very white. Come snowfall he grew restless because he could relate to that chaotic sparkling dust very well. Heaps of snow poured from the rooftop, sprinkled the coats of the passers-by with silvery powder and lay over the tree-tops in grotesque white caps.
Near also liked snow because of the no-go in the roads. And that usually meant…
Near returned to his puzzle. The fire in the chimney cackled softly, lapping at the wood. Fumbling with another candy wrapper, Mello bombarded L who was slouching on the sofa with a thousand questions all at once. A huge Christmas tree sparkled with garlands, scattering light spots over the walls.
Bit by bit other children filled the room. Near stared at the completed puzzle and finally lost himself in the mingled scents of cocoa, oranges and fir.
October 11, 2007