Infatuation

Mello propped himself up on his elbows and grinned rather wickedly at L, who was reclining with one arm flung over his eyes. L was muttering something about not knowing how this had happened AGAIN, but he had a half-smile on his face--it occurred to Mello that this was probably due to an afterglow, but he preferred to take it as evidence that Matt was a stupid little boy who didn't know anything about anybody. L was most certainly not miserable.

"Say, L?"

"Mmm?"

"You know, Matt said the funniest thing today." Mello forced a quiet chuckle. "He said--oh, it was so stupid-"

"Mello," said L, clearly concerned. "If Matt is saying stupid things, you should not find them funny, but rather be concerned for him. If he is third place, and is saying stupid things nevertheless, there must be something wrong. You should ask him about it instead of laughing. It is a serious-"

"Whatever." Mello waved a hand. "Not stupid stupid, just...um...silly. Anyway. He said that you...that you...thatyou'remiserableandguilty. HA HA HA HA HA!" Mello stopped laughing abruptly and leaned in towards L's face, his eyes wide and frightened. "Are you?"

"That I'm miserable and guilty, was that what you said?" Mello blinked by way of response. "Well," said L slowly. "I wouldn't say that I'm miserable. ...Saturnine, perhaps..."

Mello's face fell. "L! That means the same thing!"

"Aha, not quite. Miserable, you see, means 'wretchedly unhappy', whereas saturnine means 'glum' or 'downcast'. One is stronger than the other."

"Well...but...not saturnine and GUILTY, right?" L looked deeply confused.

"You know I feel guilty, Mello. You exploited that fact for your own benefit, if you remember."

So. Matt wasn't a stupid little boy. He was an astute little boy, and this changed things. Mello's eyes were beginning to hurt again.

"If you hate me so much, why did you, not half an hour ago-"

"We have been OVER this, Mello. I do NOT hate you. I've decided that appeasing you was the best course of action partly because I love you. In the protective sort of way," L qualified quickly. "Like an older brother." Mello wrinkled his nose.

"L, that would be INCEST." L, realizing his mistake, made soothing shushing noises. But Mello would not be so easily distracted. "...but..." Mello couldn't think of anything better to say. L was looking at him expectantly, but all he could think about was how crap everything in the WORLD was. L sighed and sat up.

"Mello, I have work to do. You should go back to your room now, all right?" Mello nodded glumly and went about the process of locating his clothing.

He didn't really want to leave, when it came down to it, and so he hugged L for about a minute before he was coughed at until he left the room and went to his own as he had been told.

When Mello snuck back to his bedroom, he was startled to find that Matt was there and pushing the buttons on his beloved Game Boy with so much force that Mello was surprised it wasn’t broken yet.

“Um. Hey, Matt. What’re you doing in here? Don't you have a class today?”

“You have classes too, and you’re still here. Don’t exactly have any room to talk, now do you?”

“Christ, Matt, what’s your problem? I was in L’s-”

“L! Fucking L! Can you talk about anyone else? Ever?!” Matt leapt up from his bed and threw his Game Boy onto his pillow. He gave the distinct impression of having wanted to say this for quite some time, so Mello remained silent. “I’m sick of hearing about L!” He adopted a scrunched-up face, fluttered his eyelashes, and raised his voice an octave. “Oh, Matty! L said the cleverest thing today, and then he let me suck him off—it was so magical, Matty!” Matt’s face was beginning to turn purple. “Well I don’t want to hear it! And you know what? L probably doesn’t even like you! He’s probably just letting you be with him because it’s easier than arguing with you ‘cos you’re such a bitch!”

“Oh, fuck you! I bet you’re just jealous because I’m involved in a mature relationship and you aren’t! You just wish you could be with L!” Mello had to clench his teeth to keep his voice steady. He couldn’t let Matt see that he had touched a nerve. “Or maybe you wish you could be with me—is that it? Is it? Are you really so pathetic that you can’t just let go?! It’s not like we were ever really dating, Matt!”

Matt’s lower lip quivered with inexpressible anger. “The hell I want you! Who would?! You’re just a spoiled cunt with an over-inflated ego and a fucking awful temper! Hell, I’d rather have Near! At least he isn’t fucking a twenty-four-year-old who doesn’t love him and never will, by the way!”

Mello couldn’t see properly anymore; everything seemed blurred somehow, and he was positively trembling with rage.

“Why the HELL are you bringing NEAR into this? He has nothing to do with ANYTHING, unless you think this somehow makes him BETTER than me!”

Matt obviously knew he was in dangerous territory, but he didn’t seem to care. He moved close to Mello so that their noses were almost touching. “Yes. Near is better than you, Mello. But you’ll never understand that because you’re too. Fucking. Stupid.”

Matt was on the floor in a second, with a rabid Mello punching and clawing and scratching and kicking at every bit of Matt he could find. He grabbed Matt’s shoulders, slammed against the ground with a sickening crack, and pushed him as hard as he could so that Matt’s waist collided with the sharp edge of the dresser.

“Jesus fuck, Mello! You’re completely mad!” Matt kicked up as hard as he could and managed to connect with Mello’s shin. When Mello lost his balance, Matt took the opportunity to grab the textbook on Mello’s nightstand and hit him on the nose with it. Mello retaliated by jabbing his elbow in Matt’s face.

They both stopped when they heard a crunch.

“Great. You broke my fucking glasses. Nice going, asshole!”

“Whatever. They looked stupid on your stupid face, anyway.”

Matt rubbed the back of his head, looked at his hand, and swayed slightly when he saw that it was covered in blood.

“God damn it. You’re such a bitch. I’m going to the infirmary.” And he stomped out of the room, leaving Mello to wipe his own bloody wounds and seethe.

A few seconds later, Mello heard a light tapping on the door. Probably Matt, begging for forgiveness or something. He deserved nothing less than a thorough ignoring. Mello leapt into his bed and pulled the covers over himself, forming a Cocoon of Isolation.

The tapping persisted. Why the hell didn’t Matt just open the door? Fucktard.

The door slowly creaked open and Mello heard soft footsteps creep close to him—

Matt’s footsteps were not soft. Matt did not creep. What the fuck?

A small finger gingerly poked Mello’s shoulder through the thick comforter.

“Mello? Are you in there?”

Mello shoved the blankets down and glared up at Near’s concerned face.

“No, Near. I’m a figment of your imagination. You’re schizophrenic. Kill yourself.”

Near chose to ignore this.

“I heard you and Matt fighting, so I decided to make sure you weren’t comatose. I think it’s a valid concern, considering what I saw of Matt when he left.”

“Do you honestly have nothing better to do than to listen to other people’s arguments?”

“Do you honestly feel the need to resolve said arguments with physical violence, like some sort of child?”

Mello began to raise his fist in anger, then realised the irony and put his arm back under the covers with a scowl. Near smiled smugly.

“There you go. You really ought to go to the infirmary. Your nose is bleeding.” Near tapped his own nose to demonstrate this. Mello forcefully wiped his face with the back of his hand and immediately regretted it.

“Ow!”

“You have a bruise there.”

“No shit! How’d you figure that one out, genius?”

“There is an irregularly-shaped purple blotch in that area, and your actions just now suggest that it is also tender. It’s really not that difficult to-”

“Shut up and get out of my room.”