Some hours later, when the needle on the gas gauge had dipped dangerously far below "E," Mello pulled over onto a scenic overlook and yanked the keys out of the ignition. They were parked mere yards from the steep drop-off of a cliff face. Thousands of feet below, the Pacific Ocean collided with the solid rock wall, crashing and foaming where land met sea.

Mello exited the car first, digging out the chocolate bar in his back pocket, and then threw himself onto the hood of the Camaro. Matt followed shortly, after taking a second to light his next cigarette and fishing out the small game console in the back of his jeans. He climbed onto the hood to join Mello, flipped over onto his back and plopped his head onto the blonde's lap.

"What'd you do all day?" Matt asked, holding the video game console above his head.

"Nothing." Mello bit into a piece of chocolate with a sharp snap. "Next time you're gonna go on a shopping spree, take me with you."

Matt smirked. "So you can try and steal one of everything? I don't think so."

"I wanna a sport bike. A black one."

"Figures. Well if you want, I know a couple places we can try."

They both fell quiet again, and Mello watched the video game screen as a reflection on Matt's goggles.

"Y'know, your belt buckle makes this really uncomfortable," Matt said, shifting his head from side to side, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was practically lying on Mello's crotch. Mello, however, was painfully aware of the fact.

"Yeah, I bet it does, dumbass. Why do you have to lay there anyway?"

"'Cause I want to."

Because old habits die hard. Mello could remember back when they were younger, and the way Matt would drape himself across Mello's lap whenever he would play his video games or sometimes he would even sleep that way. Had it of been anyone else in the world, Mello would've jumped up and told them to get lost in an instant. But with Matt…well, things were different with Matt.

A salty breeze whipped up the cliff face, tossing Mello's golden locks about his half-charred face as he bit into the chocolate again.

Matt never looked away from his console. "What are you gonna do once you catch Kira?"

"Whatever the hell I want."

"And that would be?"

Mello looked up at the sky, trying to ignore the way Matt's hair was tickling the exposed skin on his hips. "To kick Near in the ass. Hard." Matt chuckled. "Well, Roger probably would've sent me to a juvenile delinquent's school if I did, and L used to drag me around by the ear whenever I'd so much as knock over his stupid building blocks. Remember?"

Matt nodded. "Oh yeah, I remember."

"…L…"

The redhead glanced up past his screen for hardly a second. Mello's face was hidden by his flaxen bangs, but the chocolate bar in his hand was being slowly crushed, the leather glove squeaking as he tightened his grip on it.

"Only when Kira is defeated…only then, will I avenge L. And I'll do it without Near. I'll do it with my own two hands. Instead of flowers, I'll lay the title of victor on L's tombstone."

The distant crashing of the waves and the rat-a-tat of Matt's game buttons seem to echo for a long while.

"Do you miss him?" Matt asked quietly.

Mello shrugged. "Do you?"

"Not really. It's not like he was ever there anyway. He was always off saving the world."

Mello snorted. "See, this is why he never picked you. The whole world could go to hell in a hand basket and you could care less."

"That's because the person carrying that hand basket would probably be you, Mel. Just promise me you'll spare Sony and Nintendo."

"Why should I spare you anything? Especially your stupid little alternate worlds?"

"Because you love me."

Mello slapped the side of Matt's head, but didn't say anything in protest. "Must be nice to have worlds with 'reset' buttons," he mumbled around a piece of chocolate.

"I thought that's what we were for." Mello blinked. "Or I guess, you and Near. You guys are L's backup plan; his 'reset button' in case things didn't go so well. But you're right…it's easier when the world is only as big as your hands," Matt said simply. "And no matter how you many times you reset, it still means you've lost the game."

"Tch. Whatever."

After letting the weight of his words sink in for a while, Matt suddenly said,

"Hey, what do you think this Kira looks like? Probably some old fat guy, huh?"

Mello started to dig in his back pocket, cursing the tightness of his leather pants. Flipping open his cell phone, he searched for the picture of Light Yagami he had saved onto it and handed it to Matt, who had to lift up his goggles to see the image clearly.

"Holy shit. The guy's hot."

"You're sick."

Matt handed back the phone and went back to his video game. "Why do you think he's Kira?"

"Because L thought he was Kira."

"Ah, yes. Good investigative work there. I'm sure that'll go over well at Kira's trial," Matt said sarcastically.
"L knew he was Kira. He had to. There's no way he couldn't have known, but he ran out of time to prove it. Well, guess what? Now the clock is ticking against Kira…it's only a matter of time before we catch him. I can't wait to present that bastard's head on a spike at L's grave."

"Now who's sick?"

Against his better judgment, Matt took the cigarette out of his mouth, looked directly up at Mello, and blew a stream of smoke into the blonde's face. Sure enough, the repercussion came only seconds later. Mello grabbed a hold of Matt's goggles, pulled them up, and let them slingshot back onto the bridge of his nose with a quick smack!

Matt shot up, holding his face with his gloved hands.

" 'The fuck, Mello?"

"Don't blow that shit into my face. It's disgusting."

"That's all you had to say, man!" Matt exclaimed, rubbing the back of his hand where the goggles had hit. "You didn't have to be such an ass about it!"

In the blink of an eye, Mello lunged, chains jangling and leather squeaking as he knocked Matt off balance and pinned him to the hood of the car by his shoulders. Looking down at his friend, Mello couldn't help but grin; even in the dark, he could see Matt's face turning a pretty pink. Though whether it was from having his goggles slam him in the nose or the way Mello was straddling him, he couldn't say.

"Such a what?" Mello demanded, squeezing his knees against Matt's sides.

"You heard me."

Reaching up for the rosary dangling around Mello's neck, Matt pulled on it, gently persuading him to close the gap between their faces. When they're mouths finally met, Matt held his breath. The kiss was like velvet, Mello working slowly, almost tentatively as he sipped on Matt's lower lip. But the redhead knew that sweet, loving kisses from Mello was like having it rain in the desert—it never lasted long.

Mello's tongue brushed the outline of his lips and Matt, deprived of air, exhaled into Mello's mouth, letting a small groan escape with his breath.

Immediately, Mello pulled away, a sour look on his face. "Ugh, you taste like a fucking ash tray."

"So what else is new?" Matt asked, letting his hands run down Mello's sides. "You've never liked it and you never will. But since when has that stopped you?"

Mello smirked. "You're right. That little habit of yours hasn't stopped me yet, but this damned vest might."

Matt laughed when he realized Mello was fumbling to reach the zipper, which lined the back of his vest instead of the front. Unable to slip his hand between Matt's back and the hood of the car, Mello gave his friend a frustrated scowl.

"Come on, Matt. Quit being such a tease."

Grinning, the redhead obliged and arched his back, giving Mello room to unzip the outer shell. His grin quickly disappeared though, when the blonde brought his lips to Matt's jaw, tantalizing his skin with a strong, hungry kiss, coaxing him to arch even more. He could feel Mello's hips sinking against his own; the sensation of leather against jeans filling his mind with a hot, numb haze.

Mello suddenly sat up again, yanking the vest off of his friend and tossing it to the ground. Matt thought he heard him say something about "chocolate" and "unwrap," but was quickly pinned again before he could be sure. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, the cross on Mello's rosary swaying between them.

"You remember the first time we did this?" Mello murmured, sliding a gloved hand underneath Matt's striped shirt.

He chuckled. "Roger was so pissed. I don't think he ever looked us in the face again after that."

"So? Old geezer never liked me anyway. But we wouldn't have gotten caught if it weren't for your screaming."

"Oh yeah, let's just blame it all on me," Matt rolled his eyes. "Let's just forget about why I was yelling in the first place."

The grin on Mello's face was, even for Matt, slightly terrifying. "Oh no. I could never forget that."

Mello dove for Matt's neck, sweeping his lips along the hollows of his throat. Matt could feel his entire body flare with goose bumps, his jaw hanging slack as his partner proceeded to gently—and at times, not so gently—nip at the sensitive skin on his neck.

Intoxicated by the feeling of Mello's cold, leather gloves fondling his sides, it took all of Matt's efforts to slide his own hands down to Mello's bare waistline, where he trailed invisible patterns across his skin. In return, the blonde's kisses grew stronger, spurred on by the groping hands that were now delving into the sinfully tight pockets of his leather pants. A deep, husky groan escaped Mello. Inspired by the sound, Matt turned his head towards Mello and ran his tongue along the smoothness of his burnt skin, like marbled glass.

Matt couldn't see it as a scar. Blemish though it was, it seemed like it had always belonged there; that it was an emblem of the fire that always burned within his friend. It added a frightful beauty to his once angelic face, and it always reminded Matt of some sort of fallen saint, spared only by his own bleak faith and a broken rosary hanging around his neck. The charred skin would fade with time, but Matt secretly hoped it wouldn't vanish completely—he loved every inch of it.

Mello brushed his lips against Matt's for a brief moment, then left a tortuous trail down his neck and onto his collarbone, painting patterns with his tongue as he went. Matt leaned his head back and groaned, exposing the pale skin of his neck for Mello to devour. At the same time, he took a firm grab of Mello's rump and pulled it down onto him, melding their wonderfully aching bodies as tightly as possible. Within seconds, he could feel Mello's belt buckle starting to scrape against his lower abdomen and Matt buried his face into that golden mane, lost in a rhythmic bliss.

The stars above were beginning to blur and the smell of the salt air mingled with the scent of cocoa that always seemed to permeate from Mello's skin. A lone breeze whisked about the car, cooling their damp skins for a brief moment before leaving them alone again with only the sound of their frantic heartbeats and heavy breathing to fill the air.

Without warning, Mello suddenly bucked into Matt so hard, he thought for sure they'd just dented the hood of the car.

"Fuck, Mello!" he gasped.

Smiling, the blonde inched up towards Matt's face and breathed into his ear,

"See? That's exactly how we got in trouble the first time."

Matt rolled his eyes, took a firm grasp of Mello's hips, and flipped him over on his back, hard enough to make the car clunk beneath them.

"And you think you could do any better?" Matt sneered, stroking his thumbs across Mello's tender midriff.

Mello stared up at his friend, still dazed at how quickly he'd lost the upper hand. He couldn't understand how it was possible—all the kid did was play video games night and day—but Matt was much stronger than he looked. Mello knew that underneath that slimming black and white striped shirt was a powerful set of shoulders and a perfectly sculpted chest, capable of overpowering Mello's own slim, delicate figure at any given moment. And the very thought was enough to drive him mad.

With one hand stroking Mello's jaw and neck, Matt lowered his face until he was a mere inch from Mello's lips and stopped, knowing Mello's dislike for Matt to kiss him on the mouth. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Mello was such a beautiful temptation, pinned beneath his grasp and his for the taking, and yet he would turn his face away the minute Matt tried to lay their lips together. Frustrating as hell.

So instead, Matt turned his attention to the pretty skin on Mello's throat, nipping and tasting the lump of his Adam's apple. Down below, he let his hand flirt with the crossties on Mello's pants, grinning when it eventually prompted a soft moan from the blonde.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Matt whispered against his skin. He felt Mello's hands trailing up under his shirt, making his abdomen ripple as he scraped his fingers up his belly, then down his back, leaving angry red lines as retaliation.

Glancing up from the purple mark he was leaving below Mello's scarred ear, Matt spotted the last few squares of chocolate lying on the hood of the car. Reaching out, he grabbed a piece and sat up, making sure his hips were firmly anchored on top of Mello's. While he chewed on the sweet, he calmly pulled down the zipper on Mello's black vest; unlike Matt, Mello made sure there was easy access to that model physique of his.

Eager to put his theory to the test, Matt lent down and kissed Mello. Hard.

Dumbfounded by the swirling taste of cocoa and the saltiness of Matt's tongue, Mello gasped in surprise. The redhead never gave him the chance to respond. Pressing his hands down on Mello's bare chest, his tongue delved into every crevice it could find, claiming every inch of space inside Mello's mouth. Lost in the fiery bliss, Mello groaned deeply and hungrily sought out Matt's tongue with his own, initiating a war as the two fought for dominance with nothing but their lips and hands.

In the end, Matt pulled away first, panting and shaking, beads of sweat dripping down to the ends of his hair. Mello snaked one hand up into that tousled red hair, grabbing a fistful and clenching it tight. Grinning tiredly, Matt leaned in, brushed his lips against Mello's scarred neck one last time, and rolled onto his side with a heavy sigh.

Mello picked up the last square of chocolate off the hood and twirled it in his fingers thoughtfully. "That was clever of you," he said, grinning. "You must've really wanted it bad."

"Well, y'know what they say," Matt said, digging a cigarette out of his back pocket. "Addicts will go to great lengths."

Cigarette hanging from his lips, he shoved his hands into his front pockets, searching for his little blue lighter. Mello turned on his side, a small grin in place as he watched his friend's futile quest.

"Where the hell's my—"

Mello flicked the tiny striker, igniting a single, white flame in the night air between them. The tiny light cast beautiful shadows on the contours of Mello's body. And Mello knew it.

Matt reached for the lighter, only to have Mello swiftly hide it behind his back. In those ice blue eyes, Matt thought he could still see the reflection of the flame burning only seconds before.

Pleased with himself, Mello grinned wickedly, leaned closer to Matt and breathed,

"How great?"

A/N: This is the only story I've ever written where I don't know if I want to be proud of it or not. Well...regardless, I hope some of you were entertained, to say the least.

Thank you so much for reading!...I think ^_^