Who'd Have Known: In their final weeks, Matt and Mello struggle with the difficult decisions the Kira Investigation involves.

Disclaimer: Things I own: A macbook pro, a PS2 with no controllers, and 4 pairs of Vans. Things I don't own: Death Note, the characters in Death Note, a lamborghini.

A/N: This story has been on my hard drive for over a year. I cleaned it up a bit, but I left it intentionally disjointed. I lost interest in the fandom for a while, but I have a lot of projects involving these two that I want to finish. As a way to get back into the spirit of things, and to assure everyone that I have not died (in case anyone is actually following me) I am posting this story.

I rubbed my eyes with a sigh.

Fuck.

The laptop screen seemed unnecessarily bright in the dark room. The pressure in my head was near unbearable but there was still so much work to do. I looked over at Matt. He was supposed to be monitoring the Amane girl but by the way his face was focused close to the screen, his hands moved rapidly on the keyboard, and a little bit of his tongue poked out from between his lips, I knew he was playing some game. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch up in amusement, but I quickly remembered that I was smiling at my very geeky, very male, very straight roommate.

I didn't smile.

Ever.

"What's Amane up to now?"

He stiffened in his seat a bit and I saw him reel back and scan the video feeds. He yawned.

"Sleeping. Mel, it's five am. I think I'm going to go to bed," his sentence trailed off into another yawn.

"Check the audio first," I began firmly, "maybe she's pretending to sleep. Kira might be talking to her at the moment."

He scrambled to put on the headphones and after a few minutes he shook his head.

"Nothing Mello. She's just sleeping. It's kinda cute," he added as an afterthought.

I wondered briefly if he intended for me to hear it. For some reason it pissed me off whenever he said anything about her – or any girl for that matter. Fuck, who am I kidding. I've got a big soft spot for the guy, as geeky as he is. I've known him forever and he's the only one I can stand being around. He used to be the only one that knew my real name.

Fucking Yagami. Fucking Explosion. Fucking...scar.

Thoroughly pissed off I stood up, stormed to the kitchen, grabbed a chocolate bar and then walked to my bedroom. Except, I found myself in Matt's room.

Fuck it, I'm tired. If Matt wants to sleep he can use my room.

I stripped down to nothing and slipped into his sheets. They smelled faintly of tobacco and, well, Matt, and as I drifted off to sleep I found myself hoping he would creep in and lay with me.

I forced myself up after a few hours of rest and I felt worse than before. My body was screaming for sleep and that nap was a cruel tease. When my eyes focused to the morning light I saw Matt, leaning against the door frame...smirking. Shirtless too, God Dammit!

Why the hell does he tease me like this? He's got to be conscious of it. There is no way in hell he doesn't know I'm gay, I mean shit, look at me. Tight leather, painted nails. Have you seen my ass! I'm a screaming faggot.

"Get lost on the way to your room earlier?" he chuckled walking slowly toward me.

"No! I was too tired to give a flying fuck," I bit, sitting up – making sure to pull the sheet with me to avoid any...indecent exposure.

Matt noticed this, looked at the floor, then me, then the pile of leather clothes on the ground, then me again. He sat down gently on the edge of the bed.

"Mello, if I have to clean my sheets because you can't keep your pants on..."

"Shut Up!" I growled, but had the feeling it was a lot more whiny than authoritative.

And then, exhaustion began to strike and I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing pain in my head. Matt's eyes (sans goggles) softened a bit and he leaned in closer to me. The closer he got, the wider my eyes became. I froze when he silently draped his arm around me.

I couldn't figure out why it was suddenly awkward. We were always touching at Wammy's (platonically mind you). Maybe it was because I found myself noticing how handsome Matt had gotten in those four years. How beautiful his green eyes were, how silky his hair looked...

"Mel, get some rest. One day off isn't going to kill you," he whispered, "Tomorrow it's going to rain. It'll be the perfect day to sit inside and...work on the case," Was he...blushing?

He looked directly into my eyes, a bit unsure, and leaned in further. I could taste the cigarettes and energy drinks on his breath when he breathed lowly, "I'll take care of you," before closing the gap between our lips.

I had kissed countless guys, rough, wet, and dripping with anticipation. Never in a million years had such a chaste kiss gotten me so excited. My head was spinning, I didn't know where this was going. Two minutes previous I was sure Matt was straight, and yet, there he was initiating a kiss. Our first kiss.

I responded eagerly, throwing my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer. He moaned when I ran my hand down his spine, and I took the opportunity to thrust my tongue deep into his mouth. When my lungs felt like they were shriveled and about to implode, I broke the kiss, marveling at the glint of saliva that connected us. My heart was racing, I was panting like a marathon runner, my eyes were half-lidded with satisfaction and I couldn't help but mentally curse myself for grinning like a total fool (that was supposed to be Matt's thing).

After about a half second, I regained my composure and put on my most deviant smirk, "Well, look who finally stepped out of the closet."

He blushed for a second, looking down at the floor between his feet. I saw the comeback formulate in his eyes before he spoke, "at least I'm not hard from one kiss."

How Embarrassing.

"Well," I leaned in, nipping at his ear, purring, "we'll just have to fix that, won't we Matty?"

Within minutes I had him. Under me. Clawing my back, screaming, panting, begging, moaning, whimpering. As I felt his body clench down on me prior to his release I asked him, no demanded, "Are you mine?"

When he screamed, "Yes, Always!" It threw us both over the edge. We lay there in the exhaustion of orgasm simply holding each other. I stroked my fingers through his auburn hair and in the back of my mind I considered calling off the Kira case and staying there, in that moment with Matt, my Matt. I could see us, years in the future cuddled together on the sofa watching television and drinking wine. I smiled. For the first time since the death of my parents, I no longer felt alone.

It had been a few days since Matt's highly physical reveal, and what a few days it had been. We still worked on the Kira investigation, of course, but Matt and I quickly learned how persuasive a couple of kisses and some friction really was. I couldn't get enough of him, and from the way he looked at me, and the way he was so careful and sweet when I let him top proved the feeling was mutual.

I know I'm in the mafia and I radiate bad ass, but I couldn't stop the electric feeling of satisfaction whenever he held my hand or gave me a peck on the lips in public. We had each other, and we wanted to show the world, and nothing, nobody could come between us. One afternoon we took a walk, hand in hand in the park. We got looks from almost everyone.

Land of the free my ass.

One man had the audacity to come up to us, spit at our feet saying we made him feel sick.

Matt grabbed my arm before I could shut the fucker up.

"Shh, Mello, baby," he cooed placing a kiss on my lips, "he's not worth it. Let's go."

And just like that, I was calm. It didn't matter what happened as long as Matt was there with me, as long as Matt was mine – everything would be okay. Then reality struck and I knew no matter how much I wanted to live, to stay with Matt forever, a world in which Kira existed made that nothing more than a childish fantasy. Martyrdom was the only thing left for me to do.

When I called Near to tell him about the plan to kidnap Takada he saw right through my hesitation when I mentioned Matt's involvement. I was never good at masking my emotions.

"So, Mello and Matt finally exist?"

Stupid twit had to know everything before me.

"Yes."

"Congratulations, I was wondering when the two of you were going to stop skirting around that obvious tension. Anyway, I wish you luck with the plan. Call Halle, she will cooperate accordingly."

"Bye," I said before slamming the phone onto the receiver, fighting back tears.

We were to kidnap Takada in two days. The preparations had been made. All that was left to do was wait.

I sat on the couch, chocolate in hand, while Matt lay horizontally with his head in my lap idly playing his PSP. I gently ran my gloved fingers through his silky hair.

"Mel?" he turned to look at me with his big puppy eyes.

"Matty."

"I love you."

And my heart pounded in my throat, and my stomach settled around my ankles, and my eyes stung while my nostrils flared.

"I love you too Mail. I always have and I always will."

The look he gave me was so content, so full of satisfaction so...loving, I couldn't help but lean down and kiss him sweetly. He was mine, always would be, and I was just as much his. And though I wanted nothing more than to stay there with him, live long, buy a house, marry and adopt if it were to become legal, and die far in the future full of love and happiness, the world needed my sacrifice. I would die with one regret: that I didn't tell him sooner.

"Let's see how we go," I mumbled, starting my motorcycle. Sealing our fate.