A/N: Inspired by the fact that this is what I do on my Saturday nights. Minus the sexy men. D: And, actually, usually minus the wine, too.

Wine and Mario Kart

"Matt"

"Huh?"

"I'm bored"

"That's nice"

"Well, do something about it already"

Matt threw his head back on the seat of the couch, ending up with his nose conspicuously close to Mello's shiny black-leather-coated thigh. He rolled his eyes behind the orange tinted lenses of his goggles and heaved an overly dramatic sigh.

"Like what, Mello? We've already ridden the motorcycle, gone to the club (Matt shuddered remembering this particular incident; Mello was many things, but a good dancer was not one of them, despite Mello's own strong conviction that his hips rivaled Shakira's), baked a cake, licked out every pudding cup in the fridge, hacked into the FBI's records of Area 51, and built a fully functioning transistor radio out of the pull-out bed under the couch".

This last activity had been somewhat ill-considered, as they now had a pretty sweet radio crackingly out some old Elton John tune over in the corner, but Matt had been reduced to sitting on the dubiously scented area rug, as opposed to the now dilapidated and definitely hazardous sofa.

"I don't care. I'm still bored". And with this statement, Mello began to glare. Any other person would have pouted, and Matt had to admit that, if Mello had been the kind of person to pout, it would have been damn effective. But this was Mello, so instead of jutting out his bottom lip, intense blue eyes going all meek and watery as his thick golden lashes quivered just above his cheek bones, Mello went into full out Mafia-mode.

His eyes, instead of becoming soft and pleading, hardened to shards of blue glass, his pretty, almost femininely full mouth turned down in a hard scowl, and those thick gold lashes flared like the sun about to go super-nova.

Matt immediately started scrambling for ideas, knowing that the alternative probably involved chemical experiments to turn his cigarettes into a nuclear bomb.

"Uhh, well, we've got some boxes of wine in the fridge…"

"Yeah, and what's the point of getting drunk if we're just going to sit here?"

"We could, uh, drink some wine and play Mario Kart?" Matt offered in half-desperation, knowing that Mello had a general distaste for video games, but unable to come up with anything else. Seriously, what did you do after building a transistor radio AND licking out all the pudding cups? After that, pretty much any subsequent activity would seem tame, even sky-diving. Well, maybe not sky-diving INTO a pudding cup, but that didn't seem like a very viable option.

Therefore, it was to Matt's vast surprise when Mello flipped his hair (which he was inordinately proud of) and stood in what would have been one smooth motion, if not for all the (rather constraining) leather. As it was, he looked mildly like a puppet being jerked about by its strings. "I'll get the wine, you start up the game", he called back at Matt, who was staring after him with his mouth gaping open and his head tilted just a touch to the left.

Huh. Well, that went better than expected.

Matt tore himself away from examining the way the fluorescent lights of their apartment gleamed off the leather that had adhered itself to Mello's rear, because frankly admiring his best friend's ass was just unhealthy, and started pulling out and plugging in wires with a satisfying little 'pop!' sound.

Mello arrived just as Matt was choosing Mario as his character (hey, nothing wrong with being traditional), and handed Matt what appeared to be an entire carafe of wine. "Sheesh, Mel, what'd you put this in? A vase?"

Mello, occupied with taking a long swing from his own erstwhile crystal flower-holder, simply nodded.

Interesting, Matt hadn't known they owned a vase, much less two. He suspected that they were left over from when the two girls next door had sent them flowers in a misdirected attempt at seducing Matt, Mello, or both. In fact, now that he thought about it, he seemed to remember Mello muttering about how the vases were hefty enough to be used as weapons in case of intruders; he'd probably stashed them under the sink just in case.

Matt supposed it all came of being the boss of the Mafia. You were always paranoid that you were going to need to smash someone's head in with a decorative piece of crystal.

Mello finished his long draught of cheap wine and grabbed the player two controller, a look of determination on his face as he analyzed the choice of characters. "How do I choose?"

"huh?"

"You heard me, stripey. How do I choose a character?"

"Umm, you move the joystick and press A?"

The little glowing box labeled '2' hopped over and down to settle on Princess Peach. Mello glanced down at his controller, and as Matt's gaze followed his friend's the gamer realized that Mello was holding the thing completely backwards, with the cord wrapped around in an awkward circle.

"That's why you're having so much trouble, dimwit. Here, turn it around and hold it like this". Matt's hands moved with practiced gentleness, ghosting over Mello's and positioning his fingers correctly. He noticed Mello stiffen and felt a slight tremor in the smooth hands beneath his own, but for some reason he'd analyze later, he didn't do the natural thing and let go. Instead he cupped his hands closer around Mello's, noting how terribly frigid they were. "God, Mels, you're freezing!" he meant his tone to be chastising, but it came out concerned and very slightly sultry. Probably the wine. Oh wait, he hadn't had any yet. Shit.

"Yeah, well, if we could afford to heat this hell-hole it wouldn't be an issue. Can we get this party started already?"

Matt finally withdrew, taking a healthy gulp of wine for good measure as Mello selected Peach, who's cheery 'let's go!' made both of them snicker.

Two hours and a few vases full of boxed wine later, Mello was on a winning streak. Matt had discovered, much to his dismay and Mello's glee, that whereas he got subsequently less adept at Mario Kart as he got more and more drunk, the blonde's skill increased exponentially with his alcohol intake.

One hour after that, however, saw the two geniuses rolling on the floor with laughter as they ran their characters off the edge of Rainbow Road in a perpetual loop.

After an additional 30 minutes, Matt could almost forget that they were two of the most wanted men in the world, if you counted Kira as the prevailing force of Justice he was swiftly becoming. He could also almost forget the last time he and Mello were drunk together, and how that had lead to sloppy kisses, half remembered and best left forgotten in the morning.

In fact, Matt had mostly convinced himself it had never happened in the first place. He was pretty sure Mello didn't remember, anyway. His friend had been even more shit-faced than he had.

But the fact that Mello currently had his nose and lips tucked neatly into the hollow of Matt's collarbone, a deep hum emanating from the back of his throat, was solid evidence against that hypothesis.

Matt could feel feather-thin strands of hair tickling his neck, which inexplicably sent a lovely sensation straight to his nether-regions. He planted a poorly coordinated kiss on the top of Mello's head, and would have done more than that had not his mind and body in that instant come to the agreement that his consciousness ought to be terminated immediately.

Mello felt Matt's head droop and bonk against his own, and blurrily decided that he'd better move just in case Matt fell over during the night and suffocated him. Lazy and uncoordinated, Mello somehow managed to haul himself up on the asymmetrical couch, curling up against the smooshed pillows and promptly letting his dreams overtake him.

A/N: More to come, suggestions and encouragement welcome. :)