This is ridiculously late and I'm sorry. I've been busy as fuck. Broke up with my abusive boyfriend, had an OK birthday considering, started my courses again, almost died 5 times, and…seriously been having severe writer's block on ALL my stories. Enjoy –smiles-
Premise: Matt has an identical twin. They're after Mello, but who is who? Which one flirted shamelessly with him? Who is the evil twin? God help him because he just can't tell them apart.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.
Two of a Kind
Chapter 3
He felt lips on his neck as Matt whispered smugly in his ear, "Mello, meet Mail."
Mello stiffened. What the hell was he doing? This was indeed the pervert from before…or…was the newcomer the pervert?
The newcomer looked up upon Matt's words and grinned a Cheshire smile when he saw Mello.
"Mello, it's nice to meet you. I'm Mail." And with that, he reached out his hand, which Mello shook shakily.
This was…uncanny…
When introductions were all said and done Mello looked in front of him at Mail and then craned his neck behind him to catch a glance at Matt.
They were in different attire, but it appeared they both had a penchant for those hideous goggles. He snorted. Yeah, typical. The only accessory or clothing in general he had a problem with, was the one they chose to adore.
"So," Mail leaned back on his heels, "you're the neighbor, huh?"
"You think I'd be here if I wasn't?" Mello retorted.
Mail pouted, "Feisty. But I didn't mean it like that." He smiled. "You're welcome anytime, babe."
And just like that they were gone. Mello hadn't even had time to voice his horror at the pet name. No one called him 'babe', no one! Not even a potential boyfriend, or…and why the fuck was he thinking like that?
This seemed to be a recurring thing. He stayed in the same spot for an additional two minutes before he returned to his house.
Mello was still pissed as it came time to go to bed. What the hell was wrong with those two? Of course, he'd never suspected that Matt had a twin, but why should he?
He had been seething over this for hours now. He had left Matt's house at roughly 6.30 and it was now 2 am. It wasn't early, but it wasn't late either. He could stay awake a bit and perhaps unload some of his anger on his unsuspecting 'friend'.
He switched on his laptop. MacBook; just how he liked it. Fuck PC, seriously. He typed in his password and waited for the screen to load.
He clicked on the small window at the top right of his screen and stared. The little bastard had left him a message. AGAIN.
FreekieSheep101: I am waiting for a response.
FreekieSheep101: Are you there?
FreekieSheep101: Your silence concerns me.
Mello sighed. He started typing.
LeatherGOD: Fuck you.
Mello leaned back on his pillow, having positioned himself in his bed, the only comfortable place in his room, and waited for the inevitable.
FreekieSheep101:Mello.
LeatherGOD:Sheep.
FreekieSheep101:Do you like my username?
LeatherGOD:No.
FreekieSheep101:Oh.
FreekieSheep101:I thought you might say that, however.
LeatherGOD:?
FreekieSheep101:How was your day?
LeatherGOD:New neighbors.
FreekieSheep101:Oh?
LeatherGOD:Real pain in the ass.
FreekieSheep101:How so?
LeatherGOD:They're perverts…and they're twins.
FreekieSheep101:And that is problematic.
LeatherGOD:Yes!
FreekieSheep101:I see. I gather they attempted to get 'friendly'?
LeatherGOD:Near!
FreekieSheep101:No?
LeatherGOD:No!
LeatherGOD:They're just perverts.
FreekieSheep101:They've harassed you.
LeatherGOD:Yes. In more ways than one.
FreekieSheep101:And you disliked it.
LeatherGOD:You think I like being molested?
FreekieSheep101:Were you molested?
LeatherGOD:Not really.
Thinking about it like that, Mello realized that he hadn't actually been molested, as he had put it. He had indeed been sexually harassed…right? There was the blatant flirting and inappropriate comments in the store by the redhead, the obvious innuendos, and that departing whisper Matt had left on his neck. Mello shuddered. Yes, they had most definitely sexually harassed him.
FreekieSheep101:Mello?
FreekieSheep101:Are you there?
LeatherGOD:Yeah.
FreekieSheep101:What are you doing?
LeatherGOD:Masturbating.
FreekieSheep101:Oh.
FreekieSheep101:To what?
LeatherGOD:Near!
FreekieSheep101: Mello is sensitive.
That's what the redhead had said too. And Mello had gotten defensive. He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to think. He was a genius after all, of course he could figure this out. Especially without the help of the sheep.
FreekieSheep101:Mello?
LeatherGOD:What?
FreekieSheep101:Whom are you thinking about?
LeatherGOD:?
FreekieSheep101:Whom are you fantasizing about?
LeatherGOD:That's none of your business.
FreekieSheep101:You won't tell me.
LeatherGOD:No.
LeatherGOD:Near?
FreekieSheep101:Yes?
LeatherGOD:I'm not masturbating.
FreekieSheep101: I know.
Mello grimaced. Near. Smug asshole.
FreekieSheep101:Well…if that is all.
LeatherGOD:Huh?
FreekieSheep101:I have another client.
LeatherGOD:You're always online.
FreekieSheep101:Of course.
FreekieSheep101:If that is all…
LeatherGOD:Wait.
LeatherGOD:I'm sensitive?
FreekieSheep101:Yes.
LeatherGOD:What do you mean?
FreekieSheep101:Did something happen?
LeatherGOD:Answer the question!
FreekieSheep101:Mello has a tendency to get over emotional.
LeatherGOD:Emotional?
FreekieSheep101: Sensitive.
Whatever.
FreekieSheep101:Mello?
LeatherGOD: Whatever. Go back to your client.
He felt depressed. Talking to Near had a way of doing that to him, regardless of what mood he was in beforehand. He supposed the logical and healthy thing would be to ignore Near and not engage in those pointless conversations or 'chats', but really, why not? It wasn't like he had anyone else to talk to. Much less complain to, and Near just received his insults so well…
That didn't mean the messages weren't useless, because they were. He couldn't remember when he'd ever benefited from the freak's advice, but…whatever. He was tired. It was time to sleep.
He had decided to spend the day cooped up in his room. No amount of nagging from Near, or his cat, or…even the PERSISTENT doorbell would change that fact. That was why he didn't even go to see who was ringing the damn thing so insistently at 8 in the morning; a time that was inhumane for Mello. He had his suspicions though.
He finally ventured out of his room and into the spacious bathroom, one of Mello's favorite rooms for various reasons. First of all, the ceiling was amazing and never ceased to stun Mello. It would never cease to amaze him what remarkable taste he had.
It had miniscule lights spaced out to create a faux star cluttered sky when dimmed, the room also had a fucking Jacuzzi, it had not one, but two sinks, and an awfully wide mirror. Wide enough for Mello to realize there was currently a spider in his hair.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!' he yelled at an impossibly high octave.
He had hardly woken up and already the gods were against him. He knew he shouldn't have gotten rid of that rosary, but this was ridiculous.
If there was one thing Mello hated, and one thing he was terrified of, it was spiders. No matter how small, how harmless, how insignificant, Mello hated spiders with the same passion he loved chocolate.
He flailed about, swinging his hands around as if trying to slap away the creature. He seemed satisfied after a while and finally peered into the mirror to decipher if the situation was finally under control.
The spider was nowhere in sight, and apparently gone, unless it had somehow snuck further down into Mello's hair, hiding like a louse, close to the scalp at the nape of the neck.
Mello wasted no time in brushing furiously with his crystal-encrusted brush he had gotten as a present when he turned 18. He would be damned if he let the spider get the final say.
When he had finished almost ripping his hair out with the help of the sturdy brush, he proceeded to slap furiously at his nape, absolutely positive that the spider was hiding out there and possibly even taking the time to weave its egg into Mello's strands.
When the situation was FINALLY deemed safe, Mello took a look in the mirror.
He looked terrible. His face was red from the exertion of killing the spider, which he had yet to find, and his hair was tousled from both sleep and the maltreatment Mello had forced upon it. He was clad in an oversized black t-shirt, the arms falling down to his forearms due to extreme size difference between Mello's size and the shirt's. He thought he looked fucking hot and…GOD DAMMIT!
If they didn't stop ringing that doorbell he was going to bring out his gun and shoot them so far up their ass that they would have WISHED Mello had fucked them. Yeah, that much, because they would never fucking walk again.
Mello strode purposefully to the door as the ringing continued incessantly like the annoying buzz of a mosquito that just would NOT go away. He slammed the door open loudly and walked up with his most intimidating aura to the front gate.
He was panting heavily from anger when he saw the blob of red.
"WHAT?" he bellowed.
Matt, or Mail, whoever had decided to grace him with their presence on just this occasion, took an unconscious step back. The redhead put his hands out in defense, ready to just saunter out of there as fast as he could before Mello had time to destroy his front gate to get to the nuisance.
The redhead was relieved when Mello just stood there glaring.
"WHAT?" he repeated.
He was not in the mood for one of the twins' apparent games, although he didn't really know if they were into that kind of thing.
"Umm…" The redhead seemed to stutter, too afraid to seemingly say what he'd come to say.
"What do you want?" Mello demanded, not having calmed down one bit.
He was in no mood for this. The doorbell had woken him from a quite nice and peaceful sleep, very different from the emotion he was experiencing now, and here, here stood the idiot responsible for his current mood, and he apparently had no purpose to this visit other than to annoy Mello.
He aimed icy daggers at the visitor and when said man made no move to either leave or speak up, Mello turned and left the man standing there.
He was still shaking with rage as he slammed the door shut behind him.
How dare he? How dare that fucker do this to him! He had had such a wonderful dream too. Chocolate, all nice and lovely milk chocolate, drowning pathetic robots in sweet, sweet, sticky chocolate, and finally…that's when he'd woken up. Just when he was reaching the apex of the wonders of chocolate kicking toys' ass, he had been brutally awakened by that terror of a doorbell. He didn't really understand it himself why he hadn't taken it down yet. Sentimental value, perhaps.
It didn't matter. All that mattered was that the neighbor was an asshole of epic proportions.
Mello exhaled roughly as he tried to get in control of his emotions. It was a technique Near had taught him and it proved very successful, that is…until the fucker decided to annoy him again.
The doorbell rang furiously, not hesitating in the least after Mello's minor outburst just a moment earlier.
He clenched his fists, nails digging harshly into his palms as he tried to find an answer to his problems. Was the death glare not enough anymore? It clearly hadn't worked with the Pervert in the store…was it not adequate enough? Or were these fuckers just immune…or…the Pervert! This had to be the Pervert! One of the brothers had to be the guy Mello had been yearning to shut up with his many creative measures, but…he had had no idea if it was Mail or Matt…
The pervert at the door had to be THE Pervert!
He smirked as he venomously opened his front door, taking very long, and very slow strides back to the front gate.
He smiled smugly and calculatingly at the visitor.
"Can I help you?" he seemed to hiss, observing any movement or emotion crossing the redhead's features.
The redhead smiled. Then he opened his big mouth.
"Hamburgers."
Mello quirked an eyebrow in silent question.
"Or does that pretty mouth only take chocolate?"
The smirk was maddening.
Good thing he had his gun.
Oh my God, this is soooooo bad XD Um I really don't like it but I failed at editing it so there you go. Um progress is slow but it's getting there –smiles-
Review?