This story is really an idea that started off serious and turned into crack.

It was the noise that drew Near's attention, really. Not that it was out of the ordinary to hear unusual sounds late at night in the House. Among the genius children that lived there, insomnia seemed to be more the rule than the exception. But this noise was different than what Near had heard before. It wasn't the scritch-scratch of Linda's pencils as she drew at a furious pace, or the sound of Xanthe's violin leaking from her room even though Roger had added soundproofing at the behest of her neighbors, or even the crash-bang-cussing combination that could normally be heard from Matt's late-night video games.

No, this sound was something different; a combination of whisper-groans and shuffling feet that made Near pause in his walk back to his room after his midnight sojourn to the kitchen. It wasn't the first time Near had awoken with a rumbling stomach and a bad mood that could only be fixed by a cream cheese and cucumber sandwich (a personal-but weird- favorite for Near), and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Disturbing Near during mealtimes had always been one of Mello's favorite ways to try and get a rise of the unusually taciturn teen. It was small things mostly; things that would go unnoticed by Roger or anyone else on the staff. A glass of water upturned onto his plate, or a bowl quietly pushed off the table and onto the cold tile floor. And all done for the sole purpose of getting a rise out of his adversary. Mello couldn't best Near in the academic field, but he seemed hell-bent on making the rest of his life as unpleasant as possible

And that was probably the reason that every time Mello failed to get a reaction- any kind of reaction- out of Near, his anger would double, triple, until it reached overblown proportions and everyone who had half a brain got out of the blonde's way quick. But that was Near's strategy; to never show emotion, never show that anything Mello said or did upset him. Take the abuse with a cold heart and unchanging, unreadable expression. That did more damage than revenge ever would. Near's anger would have justified Mello's actions, but instead Near's silence merely drove the blonde a little more insane every day.

Just because he didn't stop Mello from destroying his dinner didn't mean that Near didn't still get hungry. That was why, when his stomach's call became too loud and uncomfortable to be ignored, Near had slipped with sock-clad feet out of the room he shared with another student, Drake, and down to the eerily empty kitchens, slapping together a sandwich as quickly as he could. Darkness and nighttime had never sat well with Near, and he didn't linger any longer in the quiet than he had to.

But that sound was now louder and it piqued his curiosity. He stepped silently nearer to the source, the second door from the end on the right, just down the hall from his own room. It was, he realized with a jolt, Mello and Matt's room. Sliding his feet quietly over the floorboards, he drew close enough to place his ear to the wood of the door, standing mostly to the side so that the shadow of his legs couldn't be seen in the soft, golden strip of light shining from under the doorway.

The shuffle-bump noise continued inside the room, along with the sounds of heavy breathing and then Matt's slightly gravelly voice, "Don't put your hand there, Mello!"

Mello's smoother, baritone answered, "Shh, Matt. Calm down, I know what I'm doing," followed by a sharp intake of breath from Matt.

"Why did I let you talk me into this?"

"Matt, just relax. It gets fun after awhile, I promise. Besides- Oh, shit, I missed. Sorry."

Near pulled away quickly from the door, breath hitched in his chest. He wasn't quite sure what to make of what he had just heard. It made him feel… oddly uncomfortable, and took him slightly aback. Although, he reasoned, he really shouldn't be surprised. Mello and Matt, being two years older than him, may well have reached the point where their sexual inclinations were beginning to bloom into barely-controlled, deviant messes, as was often the case with teenagers.

But, a sudden thought occurred to Near. He couldn't decide whether he was more disturbed by what he heard inside the room, or by his apparent fascination with it. He shouldn't be skulking out here, listening in on private moments. Perhaps puberty was already beginning to hit him, to use its hormone-driven fury to slowly chip away at his rational mind.

Another moan from inside the room, followed quickly by Matt's voice, "I'm gonna-"

Near couldn't say later why he did it, but he did. In a moment of impulse that he would likely never experience again, he inched open the door, desperately curious to see what was going on, and stared into the room just as Matt and Mello collapsed into a sweaty, tangled mess on the floor.

"-fall," finished Matt, pushing the cardboard square with its primary colored spinner away from his and burying his face in the plastic mat beneath him. "Twister is a dumb game, Mello. Why the hell did I let you talk me into playing it?"

"Oh shut up, Matt," replied the blonde, a hand over his eyes. "You liked it and you know it."

Near shut the door swiftly, hoping not to be noticed. He decided as he took a bite of his sandwich and slinked back towards the relative safety of his own room, that from now he would take care not to investigate any more night-noises he might hear in the House.

It just wasn't worth it.

I love Near, and I'm not sure if I pull off his perspective very well, but I thought I'd try.

Reviews? I'll love you forever.