(Note - Well, children, results came in fast. Much fucking faster than I really intended, honestly, but that's okay. You gave me what I was looking for, n' now I'm surprisingly happy. But I had a feeling that Regularity would conquer your minds and convince me that a crack fic would be more of a nuisance than a story, so I'm gonna write it, again. You read in the introduction what this baby's gonna be about, so I need not explain what we do here. But I may sprinkle a hint of OOC, considering that this is my interpretation of what Near on withdrawal looks like, okay? And I'd be willing to bet every video game I own that he would be rather hyped up, and a bit PMS-y. But with school pounding a merciless hammer onto my head, and with my oh so feeble social life slipping down the drain, I may be a bit slow on updates. So be gentle, be patient, give me constructive criticism, and let's get this show on the road!)

Temptation. Such a simple word. Children learn how to spell it around the age of 9 years, and know it's synonyms by the age of 12 years. Yes, a simple word, indeed. Yet such a powerful word. Temptation brings humans to sin, which brings them to death. Temptation leads people to do things that they don't want to do, for exchange. Things that they think will make them happy, but afterward, the reward is bittersweet. There may even be times where temptation leads to the betrayal of something. The reward might not even be there by the time the person has fulfilled themselves. The word temptation can be many things. A simple word, a powerful act, a gamble. . .

Near sat against the wall of the room he and Mello shared. Optimus Prime was pinched awkwardly between his kneecaps, which is something Near found that he never did, the action figure staring up at him. Near stared back, his eyes almost glazed over in sorrow. On either side of him were stacks upon stacks of board games, puzzles, boxes of racecar tracks and other action figures, rubik's cubes of all shapes and sizes, and a mountains, it seemed like, of other children's things. All of these things he was storing in Wammy's office in just a few minutes, while he served his bet with Matt. The bet was simple. He wasn't allowed to play with his toys and games for a whole month, and if he succeeded, he would receive every Street Fighter action figure known to the Japanese. But if he failed to succeed, then he would owe Matt a thirty-minute long, un-censored home video. Of Mello and himself. Making love like two wild animals. And it was to be watched by everyone in Wammy's House. The orphans, the staff, L, Roger and Wammy himself. Everyone. Near reached his hand to the top of the piling boxes of games and things, letting his hand stroke the top of the box. He was going to miss these things that he held dear, for as long as his mind could take him back in childhood. A knock rapped against the door. Near didn't respond, yet the door still opened, revealing a dash of golden blonde hair, jet black clothing in its midst. Mello stood, towering over the almost sulking young boy in front of him.

"You did it," three simple words escaped Mello's unimpressed lips. Near didn't move a muscle. He knew a lecture of sorts was about to begin.

"I can't believe it. You actually fucking did it, Near." Near still didn't move. It was almost as if, in Near's mind, Mello wasn't scolding him.

"It's almost as if you didn't fall for the same thing, Mello." Mello leaned to the side, and folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes, Near. I totally bet a fucking sex video for a couple of action figures." Near felt his patience for the situation thin, quickly.

"Leave me." Mello gave him a look that made his blood boil slightly.

"I don't think I will, Near. This is the stupidest decision I think I've ever seen you make." Near had had enough now. He almost withdrew into the mountain of children's play things, his eyes shadowing over.

"I swear, Mello, if you don't leave me alone, I'll break my nose again, and blame it on you." Mello glanced at the white bandage covering Near's still tender nose, and scowled.

"You wouldn't." Near reached for a cardboard box used for chess boards, and held it in front of him, waving it up and down, acting as if he were aiming for his nose.

"Try me." Mello immediately turned on his heel, and stormed from the room. Near could hear him say something close to 'bastardized'. He clutched the box of chess boards to his chest, secretly apologizing for almost using it as a nose-breaker. He felt guilty for dragging Mello into the consequences of the bet he had just made, but the bet was sealed. He had let his own desires get the best of him, and now he was paying. In the form of a very pissed off love of his named Mello.

(Note - This is short for a reason. This is almost like a preface, okay? Stay tuned, please.)