A/N: This is Part 3 of the Red Nail Polish saga, if you will. Once again, it's a big difference from what i normally write and from how the story has been so far. It's been kind of an adventure for me. We also have some OCs... I really dislike using OCs, but I felt that they were necessary to drive this plot. It's inspired by feedback from RNP and NAI, and a Matt Meme that I sent around MangaBullet recently. In other words, this is dedicated to anyone who complained about seme!Mello and uke!Matt. It's also dedicated to Miyamashi for speaking with me about the topic of gender identity. Thanks go to WammyGirl/Living in a Fantasy for helping me logic out Matt for this, and to Ambiance/TohmaYuki for RPing and giving me ideas. Matt's cooking story really happened to me. The chocolate chip cookies were inedible hockey pucks. Don't substitute eggs for butter, kids. Cracker Barrel killed the chocolate cobbler (they took it off the menu while I was writing this, apparently)... but that is where it's from. Jaramie's history lesson is true, but he leaves out some details to make Matt feel better. The title comes from Plato's Symposium, in which he proposes the army that later became the Sacred Band of Thebes. Go look them up; it's worth it. It's also the dialogue in which he examines the Idea of Beauty. I'm not as happy with this fic as with my others, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Since their reunion a few weeks ago, Mello and Matt were even more the freakish honeymooner couple they'd slowly become upon cohabitation. It felt so good, so happy and peaceful, feeling wanted and needed and secure, but it was sort of disturbing. How had their fucked-up lives together resulted in this beautiful thing? They'd gone through confusion, deception, violence, death, unemployment, abuse, and kidnapping. Unless Matt was entirely wrong, these were not the things that dreams were made of.

For one thing, Matt's place had become much tidier, not only from Mello cleaning or telling him to clean, but because Matt, for some indeterminable reason, felt that with Mello here, it should be cleaner. Such a change to Matt's environment jarred him a little bit. It didn't quite feel as much like home. He wondered if he just thought that since Mello was good-looking he should live in an attractive environment, too. Certainly, Mello had nagged him about the disorder of the apartment a couple times while and shortly after moving in with him, but then Matt could hardly be bothered to do anything about it. What had changed?

As Mello did his hair, makeup, and nails for another night on the town, Matt couldn't help but wonder if it was because he still viewed Mello as a woman. Men liked to clean up more than usual for women, to make a good impression, to make the women happy, didn't they? Obviously, Mello was not actually a woman. Matt knew that all too well. Rationally, Matt knew that traditional gender roles were insignificant to the blonde, so if anything, Mello was personally neither male nor female. Or perhaps he was both?

So what exactly did that make Matt? From Mello's very interesting lectures on the subject, Matt considered that most men were raised in a strictly masculine identity. Boys should like automobiles and fighting and sports, and protect the little girls from danger and bullies. To Mello, these things shouldn't matter. They created hierarchies and male dominance and abuse. They disrespected women and homosexuals, and anyone who fell out of the WASP-y norm. Gender roles were unfair. But Matt, while consciously realizing that Mello's perspective was true in at least the American context, still could not help the fact that he was raised by the current popular methods of dressing boys in blue and trousers and giving them toy cars to play with instead of dolls. If he was the boy, then Mello - who did his hair and makeup, painted his nails, and cooked (rather better than Matt did, anyway) - was the girl. He was supposed to protect the girl. He couldn't even protect himself. He'd gotten himself kidnapped. Not only that, but he feared - with no reason to fear, only to recognize, other than his pride - that perhaps Mello thought that he, Matt, was the girl. After all, Mello had to come save him, and Mello was the one getting off with his dick up Matt's arse, not the other way around. Except for that one time, that Monday night at The Soiree. Did that mean something?

Mello appeared before him, femininely gorgeous and ready to leave. "What are you thinking about?" he asked Matt, who sat on the zebra-print couch smoking. He watched the smoke trail dance entrancingly from Matt's parted lips.

Matt looked up at the blonde. His expression didn't expose much, but he said softly, "You."

Mello smiled. He beckoned Matt to rise with a fingerless-gloved hand. "Let's get going, huh?" And with that, they left.

Mello certainly danced like a girl. And not those shy girls who feel silly, all together doing nothing but shifting back and forth on their feet, but like those girls who begin to be daring and rebellious, dancing like grown women in a strip bar, and their man is like their pole. It made Matt hot, like the awkward boyfriend who stands by and can barely move though his woman is all over him like Mello on chocolate (or chocolate on Mello). He felt like he was doing this because he was supposed to, but it didn't really bother him, until Mello's painted nails tugged at his sleeves, hands sliding down his arms until they folded around Matt's. He was bringing Matt closer to the middle of the floor. "Come on, Matt," he persuaded. "Let loose a little!" He didn't really want to, but when he did, it felt so much better.

The blonde turned, his back to Matt, and - still dancing side to side - leaned closer. Matt was a bit confused, until he noticed a young woman rubbing up against another in this way. Mello's backside pressed against him and he began gyrating. Ohh... That felt amazing. With the pulsing music and flashing lights, memories of Monday night at the lounge came rushing back. He placed his hands on Mello's hips and moved along with him.

Mello's arms bent backwards over his shoulders to bury his fingers lightly into Matt's hair. That felt even better. His back arched and hips pressed back into him. Jesus... Matt wasn't used to this position. It was like having sex on the dance floor, standing up, to him, or at least like a very good warmup. But then, they hadn't even had sex this way, with Mello on his front and Matt topping. His hands wandered upward, stroking down the sides of Mello's face and neck, down the plane of his chest and abdomen, to rest on the warm, bare skin of his waist, his thumbs unconsciously pressing in circles there, all as the other man moved back and forth against him. He undulated like a latin dancer, sparking fantasies and making promises. Matt's hands slid as much under Mello's vest and waistband as the tight leather would allow, wandering. He leaned close, nuzzling into Mello's hair to tell him over the music, "I want you."

He didn't stop, just kept dancing, but he did lower one arm to turn his head and say over his shoulder, "Good."

"That felt so good," Matt admitted when they returned to the apartment. "I think I really needed that." Mello had tried everything to get Matt to have fun, until finally they were jumping around, laughing, thrashing at each other like teenage boys pretending to be in a rock band. They had to take a break before driving home just to catch their breath and stop their headaches.

Mello was practically grinning ear-to-ear. "That's good. I'm glad you had fun." He doubled back to get closer to Matt, who was standing by the table, and laid his hands on his shoulders. "What is it that's been bothering you?"

Matt's face flushed, and he looked away. "It's nothing." How could he tell Mello he felt like the girl this time? That he felt backwards?

Mello's hands were cupping his face, his fingertips grazing the high blush on his cheekbones. "Baby, it isn't nothing. How can I help you if you don't tell me?"

"I feel..." He sighed. That wasn't it. To say that he felt that way wouldn't make any sense to Mello, who thought of such ideas as gender stereotypes as ridiculous. "I feel inferior, Mello." Yes, that was it. His job... The fact that he couldn't get a new job was a part of this, too. "I want to be strong for you, Mello. But I can't protect myself, I can't get a job..." He drifted off.

Mello looked at him sadly. He said in a low voice, "Strength hasn't got much to do with it. This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I'm usually the one fucking you, would it? Instead of the other way around?" Matt gave the slightest nod, his blush intensifying. "How long?" Matt shrugged his shoulders. "What can I do for you?" he persisted. He shrugged again. Mello sighed in frustration and walked away, fetching himself a chocolate bar. He bent over into the refrigerator, and Matt caught himself staring. "You need anything?" the blonde asked, his face hidden behind the door.

"Like what?" Matt asked. He wasn't sure if Mello meant food or something else. There wasn't much in there. They needed to go grocery shopping.

Mello stood, shut the fridge, and turned to face him. He said sarcastically, but with a pained look on his face, "Like, gee, I dunno, therapy?"

That hurt Matt, but he wasn't sure why. The thought of divulging his thoughts to a complete stranger felt wrong, weak; he felt threatened. "Why the hell should I need therapy?" he found himself shouting.

Mello glared. "You know what, Matt?" he yelled back. Matt felt his heart start to race. He was afraid. Mello blinked, and his expression changed, but Matt couldn't determine precisely in what way. "You're right, Matt," he continued. "You're worthless! You can't get a job, you can't keep yourself from getting kidnapped..."

"Shut up, Mells," Matt interrupted through his clenched teeth.

"You're a pussy. Someday you'll get kidnapped again and raped, over and over."

Why was Mello being so cruel? It didn't seem normal. Matt's nails dug into his palms. "Shut up."

"Our sex life is in no way satisfying. You're incapable of pleasuring me, and you haven't got the balls to cope."

"Stop it!" Without knowing what he was doing, he pushed Mello. But it wasn't as hard as it felt to Matt. The blonde quickly righted himself, having hardly backed away at all.

"Are you gonna do something about it?" he taunted. "Huh?" He pushed Matt back. "Are you?" And again, closer to the bed. Matt sneered. Mello kept patting his chest, as though pushing him, but with barely any force behind the gesture. "Come on, get angry! Yell at me! Hit me! You can't hurt me! You thought I was a girl, and I'm more man than you are!"

Matt's fist hauled back and he punched Mello's face. He gasped at what he'd done, but Mello seemed no worse for wear. He grinned wickedly, and wiped a drop of blood from his nose. "That's better."

Matt was disoriented by the notion that Mello had planned that. While he was distracted, Mello leaned all his weight onto him and pushed him onto the bed. They pushed and rolled, and Mello thumped a fist against Matt's chest, but eventually Matt wound up on top. Mello weakly tried to push him off, but there was so little power in it that Matt had to wonder if he was faking just to let Matt be on top. He angrily batted his hands away, demanding to be in control. But the thought that Mello was faking quickly passed when Mello moaned, Matt's warm lips pressed against his neck. He didn't even remember thinking about doing that. Matt wrapped his hands around Mello's wrists and pushed them up parallel to his head, and he held them there. Again Mello seemed to struggle, but groaned and pressed up against him when the brunette kissed his lips.

"Matt," he said when they parted for air. Matt looked down at him and waited for what he wanted to say. His lips looked so lovely and kissable when he finally whispered, like an order. "Take me."

Matt sneered. "No! I'm not gonna do anything just because you tell me to!"

"Fuck me!" Mello yelled in his face. "Take me over! Control me! Do it!" Matt was swiftly pulling down the zipper of Mello's top and tearing at the laces of his fly. In a short time, Mello was naked except for his gloves and the trousers pulled down to his ankles, atop his boots. They were panting, both in anger and in lust, as Matt rubbed his cheek and chin down the smooth plane of Mello's chest, laying shallow kisses. Mello yelped as he was pulled onto his stomach by the wrist, while Matt's other hand undressed himself, and he screamed as Matt pushed into him, dry. "Matt!" It felt like pain, and it felt like relief, and it felt like sacrifice. It felt like he did this for love. He wanted his Matt back, wanted Matt to love him, wanted Matt to feel like himself, to feel comfortable in his own skin. He arched against his lover in the same way he had on the dance floor, his hips tilting back, embracing Matt's violent plunges as his elbows rocked forward into the mattress. It felt like freedom, like soaring, to have Matt thrusting deep inside of him. Matt's name kept coming out in ragged cries as Mello clawed at the bed. Matt's teeth were clenched as he gave shuddering, hot breaths against the back of Mello's neck. It was control, and it was power, but it was still sex. "Ohh, Matt!" Matt's fingers wove themselves between Mello's, the only gesture that was really love to him. The blonde's gloves were still on, so he compensated by holding his hands even more tightly, sending chills down Mello's spine. "Ahhn...!" When they came, it felt like breaking. As tears and sweat fell and they caught their breath, it was like starting life over again. Matt again rubbed his cheek against Mello's skin, this time the nape of his neck, gently, and Mello choked out a sob. He gasped, "Fuck, Matt..."

"I'm sorry." Matt coughed.

"We should do that again."

Matt was shocked. He could hardly believe he'd practically just raped Mello, and here he was, asking for more. "What?"

Mello chuckled. "We don't have to. I mean, some other time. Right now I think I might be bleeding."

Slowly, and afraid to look, Matt righted himself and pulled back out of Mello's body. Sure enough, there were thin, sticky strings of red mingled with the other bodily fluids around his penis. Even without the threat of Mello being angry with him for this whole mess, he felt intense regret at having hurt him in any way. He spluttered, "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry."

The blonde sighed, "Shit. I am, aren't I?"

Shakily, Matt admitted, "Yeah."

Mello sighed and sat up, wincing as he did so. "Do you feel better now, Matt?"

"Making you bleed? I think I feel worse."

"Shit happens. I'll heal. People have done worse things for pleasure."

The gamer sounded appalled as he asked, "Like what?"

Mello leaned over and snuggled against Matt. "Maybe I'll tell you later," he answered. "You wouldn't like it. I'm sorry about... all that. I didn't mean any of it." Even though he said it so sincerely, Matt wasn't sure he believed it. The words had hurt too much. "I just wanted you to do that, so you'd feel better. I would never let you get kidnapped again. And if you did, I'd come for you. Nate, or no Nate. And our sex life is amazing." Matt felt himself blush. "Like that... " He sighed. "That was amazing." Mello looked up at him, then his eyes flickered uncertainly to his feet, dangling off the bed, and his trousers shoved down and bunched there. "Could you help me take off my boots, please? I get the feeling I won't be able to bend over right now."

Matt was walking down the hallway toward their apartment. He had just returned from his first job interview since losing his position at Sword & Shield, and he wasn't so confident that it had gone over well. He was milling over this when he got a few doors away, and in front of him the next door on the other side of his opened up. He half expected it to be Mello, until he remembered that that room was no longer his, and he hadn't been in it since he'd moved in, over a month ago. It was a man with black hair and piercings, and a laughing young woman with strawberry blonde hair, his arm around her waist. They both looked oddly familiar. "Matt?" asked the man. He laughed. "What are you doin' in this shithole?"

Matt walked closer and almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Jaramie? And Amber!" He and Jaramie shared a broad hug and a pat on the back. His meeting Amber was slightly less comfortable. "Amber," he greeted, inclining his head. "You look good."

"Thank you, Matt," the girl said softly.

Next to where Matt stood, his apartment door opened inward and Mello's head peeked out. He was shirtless, and smiling. "Hi, Matt. Welcome home."

Matt smiled back, extending his hand. "Mello, come meet my friends." Mello's expression was a little surprised, but certainly curious, as he stepped the rest of the way out the door. "This is Jaramie and Amber. Jaramie was my classmate in high school, and Amber..." He looked at Mello nervously, only to be received by childlike blue eyes asking him to go on. "... Is my ex-girlfriend." Truthfully, one of his ex-girlfriends, but now was not the time to reminisce.

Mello blinked, but he didn't seem upset as he turned to face the new neighbors and said, "Hello there. I'm Mello, Matt's roommate." Matt thought that odd, that he introduced himself as "roommate" rather than "boyfriend."

"Hey," said Jaramie. "Nice to meet you." Amber only nodded.

Mello was examining them with careful scrutiny, a pleasant smile plastered onto his face. They were both attractive people, their own age. Jaramie had silver piercings gleaming from his lip, nose, left eyebrow, and two in each ear. His black hair was short and spiked, and he wore a short goatee. He might have looked like a punk, but his dress was clean, office-like, and simple, giving him an unconventional yet fresh appearance. Amber's makeup was flawless, in lavender and white, her strawberry locks cascading down the sides of her face in beachy curls. Her clothing was equally elegant, in pastels, not a shimmering gold accessory out of place. They were an odd, but cute couple. If Mello saw any flaws or anything he disapproved of, he kept it to himself.

"Well, we've actually had our eyes on this place for a while," Jaramie was busy explaining to Matt. "The apartment that we were living in wasn't in very good shape."

Amber shook her head slowly. "The heating was terrible," she said in an impish little voice. "Leaky ceilings, too."

"So when it opened up, the landlord was nice enough to give us a call. It's closer to the school, too, which is great, since I'm studying anthropology."

Matt laughed heartily. "No shit? What happened to, 'I'll never be cut out for college, that's for the naturally smart kids'?"

Jaramie laughed, too. It was like they had never been apart. "I know. I never thought I'd go on to college, much less be studying something like anthropology! But after a couple years of waiting tables, I decided there had to be something better. I'd been reading this anthropology magazine, see? And I enjoyed it, so I thought, 'What the hell! Let's give it a go!'" They laughed again. "What about you, genius? I just know you got a degree in something crazy, like electronic engineering, or computer programming or something."

The other man shook his head. "Nope. No degree here. Ask Mello." He jutted a thumb in his blonde's direction. Mello chuckled.

"No way! You don't mean to tell me you've been wasting your time with chump change, like I was? And here I am, always been jealous of you because you never had to study, never did your homework, and still got perfect test grades?"

Matt shrugged. "It just wasn't for me, and I had my dream job."

"Had?"

"They laid me off a few weeks ago..."

Mello was scratching the back of his head. This was Matt's conversation, not his. He interrupted, "I'll let you guys talk. I'm making dinner, all right?"

"Sure," said Matt. "Thanks, Mello. Let me know if I gotta pick up anything." Mello nodded and retreated back behind their door. "Last week I was making something," Matt explained eagerly to Jaramie and Amber, "and I realized we were out of butter, but it was too late to go out and get some, and I tried to substitute eggs because I heard once..."

Mello had wanted to touch Matt, give him his hug and kiss and hear about the interview, but he didn't know what the others would think of it, so he waited. Now, within the privacy of their room, Mello was busy at work secretly preparing Matt's favorite: mushroom and Swiss burgers. Granted, the hamburger patties were prepackaged and frozen, but it was still on the gourmet level compared to how they had been eating, Dove chocolates notwithstanding. It was meant to be a celebration of Matt's first job interview, and he hoped Matt would appreciate it. The meat was cooked while Matt was out, so Mello started sautéing the mushrooms. A brown paper bag was set aside on the counter. The blonde couldn't help spoiling himself, too, once in a while.

When Matt entered the apartment, he was greeted by the sight of a tapered candle burning in the center of their tiny dining table and the tantalizing scent of cooking meat. Now that was romance. "Is it my birthday?" Matt asked with a grin. He spied Mello around the corner, scooping up mushrooms onto the sandwiches, still shirtless. The candle seemed like something a girl would like. It made unsettling thoughts brew in his mind, among them, Is he really being nice, or is something actually wrong?

The blonde chuckled, "No, Matt. We're just celebrating your interview. How did it go?" He served up the plates and sat down. If there was something wrong, he surely couldn't see it on Mello's happy face.

Matt did the same. "Not this well," he admitted with a nervous smile.

"I'm sure you did fine." Mello took small bites, careful not to let the contents of his burger spill onto the plate or, worse, on his hands. When he looked up and asked, "Do you like it all right?" Matt's plate and hands were already empty, and his mouth was full. "Slow down! I'll take that as a yes. Seconds?" Matt nodded. Mello smirked. "Get it yourself." Matt rolled his eyes and stood with his plate to get more.

Mello heard the rustle of the paper bag. "What's this?" Matt's voice inquired.

"Dessert."

"Something chocolate?"

"What else?" Matt laughed. By the time he polished off his second burger, Mello had cleared his plate of his first. He stood and brought back the two styrofoam containers that had been in the paper bag. He set one on the table in front of Matt and peeled off the plastic lid. "Chocolate cobbler. Bon apetit." Then he sat down and opened his own. He ate a spoonful and savored it with a delighted hum. The next bite came with the spoon being slowly licked clean as he watched Matt with half-lidded eyes. Matt smiled, and he opened his own mouth, waiting. The blonde smiled, too, and reached across to feed his lover a spoonful. Matt ate it equally slowly. He noticed a smudge of hot fudge sauce on Mello's arm, that he must have caught when he reached ahead. Before he could pull away, Matt grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him closer. He licked the smear from Mello's arm, sending shivers of pleasure down his lover's spine.

The chill of vanilla ice cream contrasted deliciously with the warmth of the fudge and cake, smeared across his chest. Matt licked it hungrily away. Mello had some, too, lapped up from the inner curve of the brunette's hip and following up the trail it had made as it slid down his abdomen. Goose pimples scattered across sticky skin, where the ice cream had touched. Their shared kisses tasted chocolaty, spiced delicately with soft moans and sighs. Mello was naked atop an equally bare Matt, caressing his jaw with black-painted nails, the gamer's palm warm against the small of his back, when it began.

It was soft at first, but quickly raised in pitch and volume. Mello stared down at Matt with wide, surprised eyes. "Oh, my fucking God," Matt said. "It's Amber."

Soon the words, "Yes, oh, yes!" and "More!" were clearly discernible. "She sounds like a goddamn porn star," declared Mello. "Jesus."

"Jaramie must be pretty good." Mello frowned at that.

Neither of them were quite in the mood anymore. It was just plain awkward. Mello rolled off of Matt and lay next to him instead. "Do you think the neighbors can hear us through the walls?" he wondered aloud. He recalled McQueen making a comment about "punishing his dog" that certainly made it sound as though the two men could be heard loud and clear.

"I hope not..." Matt was not anticipating that. Sure, he'd dated Amber, but they'd never gotten as far as Jaramie so obviously was now. The thought was there, certainly, but Matt had never really taken to it. As with all his other girlfriends, he thought at the time that he just wasn't attracted to her in that way yet, but the time would come. Up until he'd met Mello, of course. There was a high-pitched, unintelligible squeal, and then quiet. "Finally," Matt sighed in relief. He leaned in to kiss Mello, and the moaning on the other side of the wall started up again.

"Fuck," growled Mello. "She's one of those." Matt gave up and reached for the television remote.

"Yes, please. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Good bye." Mello closed his cell phone. "He says he'll have a crew in tomorrow to give an estimate."

"Good." They had together resolved to contact the landlord about improving the insulation and soundproofing the next morning. There was no way they'd be able to feel comfortable when they could hear so much of their neighbors' "business," even without having been on intimate terms with said neighbors previously. Plus, they weren't sure they could afford to be heard.

"So, Matt," Mello drawled. "Tell me about Amber."

Matt's face flushed. "What about her?" He knew exactly what the other man meant.

Mello gave a grin that said he didn't want to hear it but he sure as hell was going to get it out of Matt. "I mean, tell me about her. You said she was your ex-girlfriend. You never talk about her."

"Well, you never talk about your exes, either," the gamer pointed out, "so how can you expect me to?"

"I don't want to."

"Well, it's not like I ever got far with her." Matt regretted saying it as soon as it had come out of his mouth. He hadn't meant to tell Mello anything. It was part of this bizarre rebellion that he was going through. But the thought had materialized itself into speech before he could think to keep it back.

The blonde laughed. "So you didn't know she was a moaner?"

Matt declared adamantly, "No, I didn't."

"With multiple orgasms?"

"Nope."

"Exactly how far did you get?"

"I'm not talking about it." There was a minute or so of silence between them. "You had a boyfriend or something before me, didn't you?" Matt asked almost accusingly.

Defensively, his eyes widening, Mello answered, "What makes you say that?"

"Our first time. I didn't know what was going on, and you did it like a pro." He hated to admit it. "You reassured me..."

Mello blinked. "I did, didn't I?" He looked again at the brunette, his gaze now softer. "I met him in the religion program. We shared some of the same views. We had conversations, and we started studying together. When we did have sex, it didn't feel like I thought love should feel. So I ended it."

"You dumped a guy because the sex was no good?"

Mello shook his head. "No, no... The sex was fine. It was the emotion behind it. There was no intensity."

"Yeah..." Matt remembered how things were with Amber. "I didn't love Amber."

"No?"

"I cared for her. I wanted to protect her. I thought she was cute, and sweet... but I didn't love her." He looked up toward Mello. "It was a shallow relationship." Mello nodded. "I don't even think we ever got past simple kissing. It didn't hurt when she broke up with me." He shrugged. "I thought it should. Just... didn't."

"And Jaramie?"

"We're just friends. Actually... hardly even that." Mello curbed a smile at the point that Matt was all his and his alone. "We had class together. We talked. About music. Nothing really important. We didn't even agree most of the time."

Mello would settle for that.

The next few weeks were leisurely for Matt, if not boring. When Mello was away at school and work, Matt played video games and watched television. Usually it was an educational channel, but occasionally it was action or horror films and cartoons - anything but the news, he was sick to death of it. After the insulation was worked on, he caught himself scheduling his gaming around his favorite programs, just to give order to his otherwise unstructured life. If he was especially restless, then Matt would teach himself online or read some of Mello's less dull-looking books. He had applied about everywhere there was for him to apply to. Joblessness, however, wasn't much different from when he worked at S&S. When Mello returned home, Matt would help the blonde with bills, payroll, and homework. There was always plenty to do when he was around, even on top of that.

Mello, on the opposite end of the spectrum, had twice the work he was doing before, and twice the energy. His business had experienced an unsettling boom after the incident with McQueen, instead of the customer drought he had expected. Rather than fearing another situation, regulars flocked with friends to support Mello and to be in the exciting environment that had been the site of an almost-shootout. The story had spread like wildfire and turned into word-of-mouth advertising. Along with the lounge, Mello had started taking an extra class. This confused Matt all to hell, but apparently Mello thrived on such intensity. It was practically manic.

Often their work sessions ran late into the night and early into the morning. This meant that they were usually too busy to make out, have sex, or even cuddle, and after the work was done (sometimes even before), they drifted off to sleep. This had both pros and cons. The benefit was that when they did make love, it seemed far more gratifying. The drawback, however, was that Matt had to wonder if Mello was reluctant because he was dissatisfied with the sex, as it sounded like he had been with his past romance. Matt wanted contact, but he was too worried to do anything about it. What if he was rejected? Mello had been letting Matt top most of the few times (not because he asked or he gave Matt permission, but just because it happened - Mello made it happen - and he didn't refuse), and that made Matt feel like perhaps it was his fault, that he was no longer able to sexually please his lover. His unstable confidence was slowly ripped away, piece by piece, night by night. Once again, he felt inadequate.

Matt started meeting Jaramie. They would play video games, go for pizza, all the "guy stuff" that they used to do in high school. Matt didn't especially enjoy Jaramie's company, but he did feel a sense of accomplishment at having performed such a task that boosted his masculinity, in a way. He was using Jaramie. Not only that, but deceiving him. He'd hidden the fact that Mello was his lover. Of course, Mello had started it, by introducing himself as Matt's roommate. Matt had been silently thankful for that, since if he had told the truth Jaramie might not be talking to him at all right now, but he also wondered if it was because Mello was ashamed of him, or because a roommate was all he was to Mello. One day, over a round of Soul Calibur IV, Matt felt guilty enough to bring it up. "Jaramie, you know Mello?"

Jaramie nodded, smiling. "Yeah. He's okay. What about him?"

"He's... not just my roommate," Matt divulged hesitantly. "He's my boyfriend."

Jaramie's expression changed, but it was hardly noticeable. "Oh."

Please don't be mad, please don't be mad... was running in loops through Matt's head. "Does that bother you?"

"Hey, it's cool," he answered with a delicate smile. Matt wondered if it was fake. "Whatever turns you on, man. I don't care if you're gay."

"I don't know if I am gay. I mean, I don't act gay... Do I?" Don't answer that.

"But you love him, right?"

Matt nodded and said, only half-thinking, "Yeah."

"So why should it matter if you're gay, or bi, or whatever?" Matt fidgeted. He looked uncomfortable. "Being in love with a man doesn't make you any less of a man yourself, Matt."

"What do you mean?"

"That's the real problem, isn't it? You don't know if you fit the bill anymore." Matt was watching him, surprised. That felt like what he was thinking. But how had he known what it was, how to phrase it? "Look, Matt. In ancient Greece - get this - if you were a man in love with another man, that just made you that much manlier."

"How?"

"You're comfortable in your sexuality. You don't doubt your masculinity. You're strong, you're brave, you're respectable. And usually this was with a younger man, so not only that, but you're a good role model."

Matt laughed in disgust. "That's gross. That's like being a hero for statutory rape."

Jaramie chuckled, but spluttered adamantly, "That's not the point. Anyway, what i'm saying is, being gay doesn't make you any less of a man. If anything, it makes you more." Matt wasn't so sure. He didn't respond, only sat and thought about it. This all sounded like Mello talking. His friend had changed. Back in high school, he would never have accepted something like this. Or would he? Matt realized it had never really come up before. "I'm telling you, man. You love him. And he loves you. And that's cool. I couldn't do it." Matt looked up at him, as if asking him to go on. "I'm too much of a pussy to let some other man love me. I'm weak, because I like to be in charge. But real love is about partnership. It's not about who's the boss. And just because I'm straight doesn't mean I wouldn't like for my girlfriend to shove a dildo up my ass." They laughed. "I'm serious. I've never done it; I'm too scared to. But you know what else the ancient Grecians said?"

"What?"

"That same-sex love is the best love there is. The best, Matt. I've never been more jealous."

When Mello returned home, after Matt and Jaramie had gone to their respective apartments, Matt confronted Mello with a renewed vigor and confidence. Maybe confidence wasn't quite the right word. He was still nervous. He had to know, because not knowing was breaking his heart, and knowing would, too, if his fears were confirmed. "Mello," he said without waiting for the blonde to even take off his jacket, "are you gonna break up with me?"

Mello's expression morphed from a peaceful one to one wracked with concern. "What? Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?" Mello looked shocked, like he had no idea where this was coming from.

"We haven't had sex as much," Matt said. "Things feel different between us."

"Matt..." His voice sounded heartbroken. Mello watched him carefully as he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. When he finished with his gloves, he approached Matt, where he was sitting at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry, Matt. It's okay for you to initiate that kind of thing. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I didn't know."

"But you used to initiate it. What happened?"

Mello sighed, and gave a hurt little smile. "I fell in love, Matt. And love changes a little bit the longer it goes on. People don't always need to have sex as much, to renew their love, once they've reached a level of stability in their relationship. Well, in their perception of the relationship, anyway. I thought it was okay. That's why." Matt looked half-sad, half-surprised. "And it just got worse for you, didn't it?" The brunette nodded. "I'm sorry, baby."

"So it's not because you don't like having sex with me?" Mello shook his head, trailing a graceful finger down the side of his face. "It's not because you don't love me?"

He gasped, sounding about to cry, "I love you more than anything, Matt."

Matt looked up, his expression now unreadable. He almost whispered, "Prove it."

Mello leaned forward for his first kiss from Matt's chapped lips, and it seemed to steal Matt's breath away from him. Their contact was as new and powerful as the first time they'd breathed in the same air. "Now," said Mello, and it was as though he had read Matt's mind. He pushed the brunette underneath him and each began undressing himself. Matt wasn't sure they'd ever done that before; only undressed themselves and not the other, without the other's contribution. It showed how desperate they were. As soon as it was possible for skin to touch skin, Mello leaned forward against him with a pleased sigh. Fingertips stroked and their touches were soft like suede. Mouths rapidly collided and parted in a mimicry of the tide. Mello's thumbs rubbed the brunette's nipples to hardness while his kisses teased out a moan. He added breathlessly, "I have something for you."

Pleasure was blossoming through Matt, and he watched dully as Mello went to the closet and returned with something in his hand. "Wuzzat?" he questioned curiously. If Mello was bringing toys into this, he at least wanted to know what they were called before he did whatever was to be done with them. Mello kissed him again, and then placed the ball-gag between his parted lips as he pulled away.

"I noticed you wanted something in your mouth that time," explained the blonde. Matt looked up at him as he hooked the contraption around his head. iHow did you know?/i he asked silently. "Your mouth was open, and your lips and tongue were moving. You bit down on the pillow for a second and you got drool all over it." The brunette blushed, and Mello smiled. "It was pretty sexy, actually."

It was the first time they'd used something like this, but with Mello kissing his neck so gently, it was hard for Matt to be afraid. He actually felt much better at that moment, much more secure, than he had in a long while. He let Mello be in control again, and his anxiety melted away. Being the man wasn't important. The fact that he loved and trusted Mello, and Mello trusted him, was. What he couldn't vocalize, he said in heated stares. He grunted softly through the gag, and the blonde looked up, making eye contact.

He saw that look. "I love you, too," he whispered. They covered one another with quick, firm touches. Matt was leaking pre-come, and Mello wasn't about to waste any more time. He stroked their erections together with a gasp of pleasure, gathering the natural lubricant that he would use to ease his own passage. Mello's hands parted Matt's thighs, sliding up them to clasp under his knees. Their hearts pounded in their chests, so hard Matt thought he might just explode. With little resistance, Mello pressed into the brunette. "Oh, my God..." Matt felt the heat rise to his cheeks. As Mello started moving, his breath heaved from him in great pants, his eyes tightly shut and his golden curtain of hair spilling forward, brushing Matt's cheekbones and forehead. "Matt, I'm gonna... ah..." The gamer felt a sudden surge of pride; even on the bottom, ithis/i was what he did to Mello. It was beautiful. Mello was beautiful, and pitiful, like an angel in pain. One of Mello's hands fell to the bed to support himself, while the other wrapped around Matt's cock, his thumb stroking the vein along the bottom of its length. Matt also shut his eyes and let loose a moan. Not knowing what to do with his hands, one was knotted in the blankets by his head and the other wrapped loosely about Mello's wrist on the bed. He was going to choke on his saliva, he thought, but he pressed his tongue against the gag and did his best to swallow occasionally, though it was more of a challenge this way. It was constricting, but not terribly painful, and somehow the pressure of it heightened the sensitivity of the rest of his body. Having something in his mouth was much more gratifying; although he could hardly think, he didn't have to think about it because it was so carnal and base that it underlay all his other impulses. Shallowly, so as not to choke himself, he gasped when Mello grazed his prostate and he tensed up, his heels raising to press against the blonde's backside and encourage him to go deeper. Only a few thrusts sent them careening into pleasure, like waking up and deep-sea-diving at the same time, and then coming up for air. Love radiated from Matt's prone form as half-lidded, dark blue eyes stared blearily toward his boyfriend. "Mmm, Matt..." Mello groaned, letting his head roll onto his lover's shoulder, then in a moment he was unhooking the ball-gag. Matt breathed in quickly and started coughing. Mello stroked his sides and laid a series of quick kisses on his neck until he stopped, and then when he could breathe, practically pounced, his lips meeting Matt's and his tongue delving into his mouth passionately. He ignored the mess on his and Matt's bodies for the time being and covered him, his limp form conforming effortlessly to the contours of his lover.

"I'm really digging this 'love' thing," Matt growled just before their lips met again, and he gasped in the next interim. "The sex is way better."

"Mmm... You really think so?" He slowed his kisses down, holding their contact longer before taking a full breath and leaning in again. "I would have to agree. Hahh... My wonderful, sexy man."

"You're so beautiful..."

"Mmm..."

"Ah, I fuckin' love you."

"Oh, God, I love you, too..."

"Mello?" Matt's head rolled to face him.

"Yeah?" Ice-blue eyes flicked toward the gamer.

"Am I the girl now?"

Mello started laughing. "What are you talking about?"

Matt shrugged, feeling more self-conscious than ever. "I've been trying to figure it out," he said. "You told me I didn't have to feel bad about the kidnapping..."

"You got away on your own. If anything, you saved me."

"Really?"

Mello nodded. "Yeah. You have no idea how much I was beating up on myself."

"Well..." Matt continued slowly, put off by the compliment, but he had to say it now or he'd never finish saying it. "You do stuff like doing your hair and painting your nails... Does that make you the girl?"

"Guys can paint their nails. It's punk."

"Seriously?" The fire of fear and confusion was beginning to die down.

"And guys can care about their appearances, take care of their hair... Not all men are as lazy as you are, Matt." Matt groaned, and Mello tousled his hair with a grin. "But it works for you. I like your bed-head."

"So which one of us is the girl, if we can go back and forth?"

Mello sighed. "Why do guys always think there has to be a man and a woman, a dominant and a submissive? If I had to choose..." Mello smiled. "If I had to choose then I'd classify myself as bigendered."

Matt thought through the word: bi meaning two? As in having two genders, both male and female? "That's not a classification, that's an anti-classification!"

"Neither of us, Matt. Aren't we equal?"

"Do you really think so?" The fire was smoldering in the pit of his stomach.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"That was really nice of you." He meant, saying that Matt had saved Mello, and although that wasn't clear, Mello knew precisely what he was referring to.

"Yeah, well... don't come to expect it, or anything." Matt pulled the blonde closer for a kiss. The fire was extinguished, and a new flame ignited from the ashes.

"Why did you hide it from them, Mello? I thought you were embarrassed or something."

"I didn't know what he'd think. He was your friend. I didn't want to be responsible for making him hate you or something. But in front of your girlfriend..."

"Ex-girlfriend."

"You have no idea how much I wanted to say it. To tell it to her face! 'He's mine now! He's wonderful and intelligent and sexy and good in bed and you can't have him, because he's mine!'"

Matt laughed at that. "Well, you still can. Jaramie seemed to take it okay."

"You told him?"

"Yeah. We talked about it."

"Good." Mello was silently organizing his papers and notes for the day. Abruptly, he announced, "I think I will tell her. How would you like to have them over for dinner?"

Matt rapped on the door and waited patiently. It was about a full minute, and still no answer. He knocked again.

Jaramie burst from the door, looking disheveled, his hair mashed in certain places and spiked in others, and his shirt half-unbuttoned. "Oh, hey, Matt," he said. "Listen, it's not the best time; can you make it quick?" Past his right shoulder, Matt could see a body moving under the bed sheet and heard a soft sigh.

"Oh, um..." Matt felt the blood rush to his face. So that was why it took him so long to answer the door. At least the new insulation was working. "Mell and I just wondered if you both might like to come for dinner- I mean, come over..." Shit.

Jaramie didn't seem to notice Matt's unintentionally suggestive choice of words. "Oh! Dinner!" He tilted himself to look at the clock behind his left shoulder. It was 4:30 PM. There was time. "Yeah!" he said breathlessly. "Dinner would be great!"

Matt fidgeted, then wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. "Okay. Great. I'll see you then."

"Yeah." Quickly, Jaramie shut the door.

Matt groaned. "Sheesh. And I thought we were horndogs..."

"So, Jaramie?" Mello started. "When did you first start piercing?"

The raven-haired man paused in his eating to think, his pupils rolling up and to the left. "Hmm. The first one was in my ear, so... that was in junior high."

"Your mother let you do that?"

"She did. Took a little prodding, though. I begged her, and she finally told me I could get it on my birthday."

"So now you have..." Mello counted carefully. "Seven?"

"Nine," Amber corrected sweetly.

"Oh-kay..."

Jaramie stuck out his tongue. Sure enough, there was the eighth one. Then it retreated, back behind his teeth, so he could say, "You're not allowed to see the ninth one." Amber was smiling, the apples of her cheeks glowing a delicate rose.

No wonder they're so noisy, Matt contemplated. He added aloud, "You had five when we graduated."

"How about Amber?" Mello asked with a grin that was nothing less than flirtatious.

She perked up and looked to Mello. "Me?" He nodded. "I have a nose piercing, but I don't wear it much anymore. And one in my navel."

Matt was surprised by that. She looked and always acted so gentle, but piercings seemed just the opposite of that. "Really?"

"It's cute," she explained. "You didn't know? I had it when we were dating." Matt felt embarrassed that he had never noticed. Mello, on the other hand, looked still more devilish. "Jaramie and I got matching tattoos, too."

"That's so sweet," the blonde man said melodramatically, leaning over to wrap his hands around Matt's arm. "We should get some, too." His nose grazed the tip of Matt's ear. "What do you think, Matt?"

To his own surprise, Matt actually considered it. But tattoos... hurt, didn't they? Even though he expected that thought to put him off, instead it sent shivers down his spine, and his face flushed. So did Amber's. Jaramie was just looking off somewhere past the refrigerator.

"What are you talking about?" Amber asked, sounding fake and nervous. "Matching tattoos are for couples."

Mello smirked, his gaze on Matt becoming even more fiery and intense. He purred, "I know."

Amber leaned over toward Jaramie, cupping her hand around his ear to whisper. Mello, looking smug, and Matt, looking embarrassed, merely sat and watched. Jaramie turned, looking utterly shocked and taken aback, and exclaimed, "That's so mean, Amber!" The girl's lower lip jutted out, and, furious, she stood up almost with force and stomped out the apartment door. Jaramie looked back toward the other two men, all of them seeming genuinely surprised. "I'm not sure what just happened," he admitted.

"Amber, they are in love! Just like you and me! And what's wrong with that?"

"I don't know, I just-"

"You don't still love him, do you? You're the one who broke up with him!"

"He might as well have broken up with me! He refused to-"

"To make out on the first date? To fuck you on the second? Like I did? Amber, that man out there may love another man, but he's a far better man than I am! And you have no reason to disrespect him for that."

"I know..."

"Meanwhile, I love you! He still cares for you, but he doesn't love you that way. He never has, and he never will, and it's not his fault, not your fault, not his parents' fault, it's nobody's fault!"

"I know..."

"We're great together, aren't we? Now, you don't have to like that he loves Mello, and you don't have to like that Mello loves him. But please, Amber... Please... accept it, and don't condemn them for it. Those are my friends."

Mello stepped in, silently. "Amber," he said, and she looked up at him, her eyes full of tears and her makeup smudged and dingy. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, at least not in the way I intended it. I did want to hurt you. That's why I did it. But I didn't know it would affect you the way that it did. You're afraid of me, aren't you?" She nodded. "We want to be your friends, too." He extended his hand, with the nails painted black. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"We're back," Mello announced as he held the door open for Amber. The girl, once a delicate lily, now looked a beautiful iris, her hair loosely done up, her lavender makeup a slightly darker violet for the evening, and a long dress curling around her ankles, which were accentuated by the silver straps of her sandals.

Jaramie and Matt stared in awe, even more-so when she turned to put her arms round Mello's waist and her head under his chin and said, "Thank you."

"You do work some magic," Matt observed. It was just like the first time they went to the club, but now he'd transformed someone else, not into something intimidating and sexy, but into something genuinely pretty and proud.

Jaramie stood and pulled out her chair for her. "You look amazing," he told her as she sat, and kissed her cheek. "Mello didn't do this, did he?" He glanced up at him.

"Not a bit," Mello insisted. "She has a genius for beauty all her own."

She blushed and cuddled up to Jaramie when he sat back down and put an arm around her. "I'm sorry for running out like that. I think I understand better now."

"I'm sorry for getting angry," Jaramie told her in a low voice.

"It's okay. You were right."

"Well," Matt said, and exhaled. "I hope you like chocolate, because we can't have a meal without it around here."

When she saw the dessert, Amber had a smile on her face once again.

"I'm glad we got that all sorted out," Mello announced when their guests had left.

"Yep," said Matt. "You got your revenge and your reconciliation all in one night." Mello punched him in the arm, and he laughed. "We still have chocolate cobbler left," he added.

"And ice cream?" Matt nodded. "Well," Mello continued with a provocative grin, "then what are we waiting for?"