Warnings: excessive sarcasm, reference to mpreg, and brushing up against the fourth wall.

~A Great Dad~

The time had come; Mello felt it was time to discuss children. Sure – they could only keep their beta fish alive for a maximum of six months, and that one time they'd tried to keep a small, potted cactus alive, it had died from lack of water… But human children were different. Taking care of them was biologically ingrained – or so Mello told himself.

Perhaps it wasn't the purest of motives for wanting a child, but it was the one Mello was operating under: both he and Matt were getting older, and all of their friends already had children. In fact, Light had two children from his past marriage with Misa, and he and his new partner, L, had just adopted another child. And Near was giving Mello those looks… Well, actually, he had the same look on his face that he always did. So, Mello inferred that Near was looking at him in a way that was meant to communicate: Isn't it time you two grew up and took responsibility for something other than yourselves?

Regardless of why, the one smidgen of paternal instincts in Mello was activated.

Therefore, he broached the topic to Matt in a way that was both subtle and respectful to the redhead's feelings.

"Hey, shithead! I've been calling your name for the past five minutes! Turn off that goddamn game and listen to what I have to say!"

Matt paused his game with a sigh, feeling validated by his boyfriend's patient communication style. Mello remained where he was, blocking the view of the television with his body, with his arms crossed and his lips pursed. A cigarette found its way into Matt's hand without him having even thought about it; it was nice that even inanimate objects were beginning to anticipate Matt's need to comfort himself during Mello's mood swings.

"What's got your panties in a twist this time?"

Mello refused to be sidetracked by Matt's juvenile humour: "What do you think about us becoming parents?"

With Matt's goggles on, it was impossible for Mello to discern his reaction. However, it didn't take a fortune teller to foresee Matt's befuddlement. "Uh… Well, kids do like me."

"But how do you feel about kids?"

"They're… okay, I guess. I mean… they're, like, kids."

Mello sat down on the couch beside him with a thump, overcome with exasperation. "Details?"

The cigarette preoccupied Matt's mouth for a few moments, conveniently preventing him from responding. Mello couldn't be mad at him, though, Matt reasoned; it was like the thing had a mind of its own.

"Well," Matt began at last, "the kids down at the arcade are okay most of the time. They're not much competition, though; it can get boring playing with them when I always win."

I should hope you always win, Mello thought. They're twelve and under, and you're fucking twenty-seven.

When Mello didn't reply (verbally), Matt said, "I don't know, Mells. This was kind of sudden. Give me some time to think about it."

So, Mello did. Patiently and compassionately, as was his way.

…

The rest of the week, Matt was silent on the matter. However, Mello knew Matt was swamped with a large project at work this week and was unlikely to remember to tear himself away from his computer in order to eat, let alone talk about the possibility of them contributing their lives and skills to future generations.

When Mello thought of it that way, he felt light-headed – so, he didn't.

But then, the weekend rolled around. As Mello was making himself some lunch, Matt finally emerged from their bedroom and dragged himself into the kitchen for the first meal of his day. In his hand, he clutched a piece of paper.

"I'm finally finished it," Matt said through a yawn, all the while propping himself up with the refrigerator door as he stared into its depth as if he expected the food to put on a show for him.

Sometimes Mello worried about Matt's mental health. But then he would remember that this was the man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and, recently, wanted to raise children with – despite Matt's flaws.

Sometimes Mello worried about his own mental health.

"Your project, you mean?"

"Naw." Matt scratched at the stubble that was starting to regrow on his chin. "I finished that on Wednesday. I mean the list of reasons for why I would make a great dad."

Mello blinked. "… Okay. Let's hear them."

"Great!" Matt stood to attention in his Pac-Man boxers, suddenly energized by the prospect. He cleared his throat. "First of all, I'm a great listener (besides the times that I am distracted by something) and I am always emotionally available (unless I'm playing a game).

"Number two: I'm very supportive of literacy at a young age, and since I have wicked-bad insomnia, I would always be there to read a bedtime story to a child that wakes up in the middle of the night.

"Number three: between the two of us, a child would have no lack of support for his or her education. Besides, if the child got a bad grade, I could just hack into the school's database and change it.

"Number four: I have seen all of the R-rated movies in our collection, so I know which parts to cover a child's eyes and ears during.

"Number five: I would greatly enjoy playing games with a child, and sometimes, I would even let them win.

"Number six: I would teach a child from a young age that violence in video games is just for comedy and entertainment, and the things that are okay to do in video games, you could be arrested for in real life.

"Number seven: I enjoy many of the same foods that children do. Trix are not only for kids.

"Number eight: Anything that a child is terrified of, I will not forcefully subject them to. There are many ways to live a happy life without facing one's fears.

"Number nine: I will teach them to not give power over their lives to addictive substances. Though, as you are not stopping eating chocolate anytime soon, I will not be quitting smoking.

"And number ten, the most important of all: I am laidback. This is so important because I will be the foil to your hot temper, the safe haven when you have to correct the child's behaviour. The child will understand that I will be accepting of them no matter what, and that they won't have to worry about judgement from me.

"So, what do you think?"

Mello was thinking, I will never get those three minutes of my life back. But what he said was: "What do you mean by, 'your hot temper'?"

"Well… Raising kids can be a trying experience, Mells. It requires patience. Like, sometimes they completely ignore you while you're speaking, they might want to wear clothes that are outside the societal norm, and they can neglect to do things even if they know it's good for them. And don't get me started on babies!

"They're whiny," – Mello thought back to when he had asked Matt to go get him chocolate the other night – "they require lots of physical handling" – and how Matt refused to keep to his own side of the bed at night in favour of sticking to Mello like a leech – "they can't feed themselves" – and how Matt somehow thought it was okay to start eating the sandwich that he had been making – "and sometimes they smell" – and even though the last time Matt had smoked was last night, the scent of cigarettes still clung to him.

"But you know," Matt went on, "you're far ahead of me in one aspect: you have a much higher pain tolerance. That's why I think you should be the one to get pregnant."

Mello could stand no more. "Matt, that's not even possible."

"Yes, it is! With hope, a miracle, and a little fanfiction magic, we can do this!"

Mello snatched his sandwich back from Matt's hands, mid-bite. "You're right. This was sudden. I think we should wait a few years before we revisit this topic." Or never, he silently added.

Because living with one child was trial enough for Mello's famously substantial patience.