It's here! Dun dun dun…

Random person: OMGOMG so are they like, going to rape each other or what?

Whut? O.O"

Random person: Oh, nothing…just thought I'd ask. –Disappointed shrug-

o.e …Whatever. Onto the story!

Thirteen

Mello's POV

...

Okay, I am totally offended.

And by that, I mean totally. That bastard- I mean, Matt, just labeled me as a pervert. I mean, I'm so misunderstood. I just thought it'll be a good idea to let him wear my jacket so he won't injure the wounds on his arms any further. But that stupid piece of shit actually thought that I was stripping for him.

Stripping? Seriously? Do I look like a fucking stripper?

As I stand a few centimeters away from the hospital bed watching Matt wrap his arms around his bare chest defensively, I contemplate mauling him. Does he think that I'm interested in his man-boobs? I'm straight, goddamnit. Besides, it wasn't my fault that the half-unbuttoned shirt suddenly ripped open in between nowhere. If you ask me, it was because of how fat Matt is, and not because of how gay I am.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

I ignore the ever-so-helpful voice in my head and turn to look at Matt with my arms akimbo, the leather jacket still in my hand. He meets my frustrated gaze with a sharp frown, and with steady movements, he edges as far away from me as possible.

I resist the urge to face-palm. "For the fucking last time, Matt, I am not gay and I'm not the least interested in your hairy chest. "

Matt relaxes his stance a little, but still eyes me with a wary look on his face. "How believable," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. A few moments pass by and I don't say anything. Truthfully, I don't even know what to say in this situation.

Suddenly, he pipes up. "But Mello-"

"What." I snap loudly, my face contorted with rage. I am still unable to get over the assumption that I am gay.

He pauses as though for dramatic effect. "…Do I have a hairy chest or are you just saying that in a stubborn fit of anger?" his voice is soft, as though afraid that I might judge him for saying such a thing.

I let my arms fall. "The latter," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Ah…" Matt drifts off, his gaze unfocused. It's as though he's pondering about the universe. A few moments later, however, he pipes up again. "…But you're still gay, Mello."

I feel a vein pop in my forehead. That fucking bitch. Just because my actions looked wrong, it doesn't mean that I'm now a sex-crazed freak who has a fetish for men. I don't swing that way.

"Look, Matt," I say in exasperation. "Stop calling me gay. I swear that I wasn't trying to rape you or anything. Do I look like that fucking sort of guy? For goodness sake, I-"

Matt interrupts my rant. "You stripped," he accused, looking away abashedly.

"I was just taking off my jacket, you sick pervert. God."

"Err…well, you tried to unbutton my shirt," he challenged.

I resist the urge to punch him in the face. "I just thought two layers would look kind of weird on you, you idiot. This jacket's kind of big."

"So you admit you're fat?" Matt snickers rather bemusedly, much to my irritation. I glare at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Fuck you, Matt."

"That's not going to help your case," Matt shrugs, but winces at the effort. "…Ow, my head."

Just as Matt lifts his arms to grasp the sides of his head, I cannot resist letting my eyes dart down to take in the sight of Matt's newly-exposed chest and body. I used to wonder about what was under those clothes of his- would he be buff and tan, or stick-skinny? I didn't get a chance to find out just then while the tussle went on, but now I finally have my chance.

Now, if you're thinking, 'Oh my god, you're officially gay for Matt', you'd better take that back before I shoot your fucking face off. I just want to compare his body and mine, get it? I'm not interested whether he has an eight pack under those clothes. I just want to see if I'm as buff as him, or whether I am lacking in that area.

Now that I see it, he has quite the well-built body frame. Under those clothes lie a finely-toned chest and a solid-hard eight-pack. Much as I hate to admit it, he has an amazing set of abs. I used to think that he the gamer sort of guy who didn't work out much. But it looks like I'm wrong now. Great.

I am so jealous that I can hardly make a sound.

Fuck, he probably doesn't work out as much as I do. But he's on par with me, and that's so fucking ridiculous that I can't-

Dude, you're just jealous. Stop being so competitive.

Damn it. Do I have to increase my training schedule?

No. You're just fat, Mello.

That's not true. I have a god-damned eight pack too, bitch!

Suit yourself-

"Erm…Mello?" Matt's voice interrupts my mini-argument with the stubborn voice in my head. "What are you…staring at?" he gaps me with a startled look on his face.

To my horror, I realize that I am still staring at him, my eyes fixed on his body like nobody's business. Oh god, this moment should be implanted into the definition of the term 'bad timing' in the dictionary. Fuck. My. Life.

Clearing my throat, I look away quickly, trying my best to hide my now burning-red cheeks. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it! I came here to carry out my mission to make Matt admit that I'm guilty and all that, but now I'm caught in this kind of awkward situation. There is absolutely no way to talk myself out of this. I am doomed.

And now I will be labeled as a homosexual for the rest of my life. Fuck.

Speaking of which, that reminds me. I have a mission to carry out, and I have wasted enough time bothering myself with this gay shit. Gathering my thoughts together, I slant my eyebrows and take a determined step forward.

"Uh, Mello," Matt instinctively cowers and wraps his arms around his body. There is an edge of fear in his voice.

However, I ignore him. Keeping my gaze straight, I take another step forward.

Matt's eyes widen with fear. "Please don't start. Are you going to try and rape me again?"

I feel a vein pop in my head, but I resist the urge not to scream and carry on moving forward, the jacket still in my hand. I am determined to succeed on my mission this time. I will not let myself be distracted any further, and I will not respond to his questioning of my sexuality, much as I would like to sock him in the face.

Remember, Mello. All for the result-

"Don't come any closer. A-are you gay, Mello?" he asks warily. However, seeing that no reaction is provoked out of me, he edges backwards in fear.

For every statement he makes, I respond by taking a step forward. Closer and closer. I'm about to reach him- my goal, my target. If I manage to keep my mouth shut firmly and exercise self-restraint, perhaps there is some hope that I can do this after all. I have been waiting for this moment…

"M-Mello, get away!"

"I'll tell the whole world you're a homosexual if I get out alive, I swear."

"Please, not so close…"

"Don't do this!"

"Is there any reason why you're doing this?" his back is against the wall now.

"No! Don't touch me, you fucking pervert!"

I'm right beside his bed now. With quick movements, I reach my hands out for his hospital shirt. Yes, it's already unbuttoned. It'll make everything easier for me. Thank god for my lucky stars that the rest of the buttons popped by themselves. Now, I just need to put this jacket on him…

"Mello, please, god no! FUCK! ARGH! D-DON'T TOUCH THAT SPOT, its SENSITIVE!" his face is really red now. He thrashes about wildly, trying to avoid contact with my fingers. In response, I jump on him and use every ounce of my strength to pin him down, gritting my teeth as I do so. God damn it, this is really tough. I can feel beads of sweat dripping down my face…

Okay, call me ridiculous, but as we're struggling about now, I've noticed that Matt's pants are gradually slipping down to his legs, bit by bit. Whether or not the hospital gave him too big of a size to wear, I'm not sure. All I know is that this isn't looking good.

Does he wear underwear? I hope he does. If not, everything will be exposed, and I will be literally dead.

As I dodge a kick aimed to my face, I watch in horror as his overly-long hospital pants start to pull itself down automatically, exposing a bit of his thighs. What the hell is happening? I can't even comprehend the insanity of it all-

"Mello you horny bastard, are you pulling my pants down?" Matt chokes out in pure terror. He's producing cold sweat now. I can feel it radiating off his body. As I dodge his attacks and strain to hold him down, he lets out an indescribable sound of exasperation.

"I knew it…you really intend to rape me," he sniffs quietly, much to my mortification.

For god's sake, it's not me who's pulling his pants down. How is it my fault that his pants are so mother fire-trucking loose? They didn't come off just now…but why now, god shitty damn it! It's making things so fucking hard for me. Like this, I won't be able to get him to admit that it's my fault. All those planning and debating would go to a waste. Again. Damn it, I won't have that.

As the struggling gets more intense, I watch as Matt's pants start to slip downwards more with every movement. Thank god that he's wearing underwear. If not, I would be blind by now. And how would I explain-

"Mello, you horny piece of shit," Matt pants feverishly. "…F-FINE! I ADMIT IT'S YOUR FAULT, OKAY? I'M TOTALLY INNOCENT AND ALL THAT! ..."

…What the heck?

" HAPPY, YOU STUPID GAY FAGGOT? NOW WILL YOU JUST STOP PULLING. DOWN. MY. PANTS?"

I cease my actions suddenly, and Matt takes the opportunity to push me off him. I land on the floor with a loud thud, but I ignore the searing pain that tears through my spine.

He…admitted that it's my fault? So that means…my mission is complete? This is going so fast that my mind is unable to comprehend it.

So now what? Am I still going to continue with my plans…no wait, I shouldn't. I already got what I want. Now what's left is…

"That's it." Matt interrupts my jumbled-up thoughts. He reaches for something in the drawer beside the hospital bed. "I'm calling Near to hurry up and come save me."

…

Near.

Near.

Near.

"Near," I blurt out. I am on my feet in seconds.

I am so mad that I don't even know what to say or what to do, for that matter. I keep my fist clenched with unbelievable force.

"You. Fucking. Called. Near?"

Oh shit! Another cliff-hanger… -guilty-

Ok, I seriously need to get shot for the 'pants slipping down' part. The idea just popped up in my mind out of a sudden. Oh god, this chapter has to be rated M. There are far too many suggestive moments…and sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes! I have a pounding headache right now…

Random person: Marry me? ^o^

Ok, now that's just downright scary.

…Review? For…erm…butter, I guess…