Check it out: the wonderful Kiliki-chan is writing a super special awesome alternate version of this, from Matt's POV, called LA Is For Lovers. Check it out ;)

Warnings: Spoilers, non-explicit yaoi and other sexual material, much innuendo, and language. Please realize that what I write as Mello's opinions are not necessarily my own.

Author's Note: Songs by Shwayze were the perfect inspiration for writing this. They excellently capture the exact feelings I wanted for this story. I would suggest "Buzzin", "Corona and Lime", "Hollywood", and "Lazy Days". In honor of mycrimsonrose13's LiveJournal MattxMello story contest that this shall be entered in, it was written with a summer theme. Believe me, I had plenty of inspiration for that too. SoCal is real hot these days.

I tried changing my Mellocentric writing a bit for this, experimenting with a slightly new style. My, it was fun! I wanted this story to be a celebration of every aspect of Matt and Mello. Them as friends, and as a couple. The kinky side, the romantic side, Matt as seme and Mello as uke, and the reverse. I wanted to capture it all.

So, here is Chapter 1 :)

Death Note and all related characters belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.

Matt and I have been friends for…let's see, how long has it been? It might as well have been our entire freaking lives. We've known each other since we were about six years old. So…

Fifteen years. Fifteen freaking years we've been friends. That's over a decade. That's like past friendship and into family. I mean, we might as well be family. We share an apartment, and we've pretty much always been together, except for during the little mafia incident. But we kept in contact. We'd call each other every once in a while. When we teamed up again before the Kira case ended, it was right back to be being like old times. Just two friends united to kick Kira's ass. And we did. Sort of.

But that's getting off the subject.

The point is, we're supposed to be friends, and friends are supposed to share things with each other. You know, communication and conversation. They're supposed to talk to each other about what's going on in their lives. That means no freaking secrets. No lying and sneaking around and avoiding subjects.

The bastard. I know Matt is hiding something because the kid can't tell a lie to save his life. His face is an open book; if he's guilty you can see it from a mile away. Usually when I catch him in a lie he'll fess up, but not this time.

Why is he being so stubborn?

I mean honestly, what could he possibly be doing that would upset me? Hell, he knows he could be part of an organized crime ring and I wouldn't give a damn. The only thing I can possibly think of is that he's somehow teamed with Near and is working with him behind my back, but…

Ha! Yeah right. Matt teamed with Near. Funny.

As if that would happen.

But maybe I should start at the beginning. The first time I noticed he was hiding something…

…

It was about mid June, just before the start of summer, and the heat in LA was climbing up into the hundreds. The summers in California could really make me miss Winchester, and I was feeling a particular longing for it that day. Why?

Our apartment complex was having AC problems. Which meant there wasn't going to be any nice cold air rushing through the vents today. Just hot dry air sitting stagnant in all the rooms. You better not even suspect that I put on leather. Hell, no. I was lying on the couch naked with a cold soda, feeling all sticky with sweat and drowsy with the heat. Like I was going to pass out or something. The radio station I'd turned on was on a commercial break, but I was feeling too lazy to even get up and switch the station. I'm not kidding; the heat makes you feel dead.

So there I was. Laying there. Dead.

Just about anyway.

Really, I was glad that Matt wasn't there. If he was in the apartment breathing his hot breath all over the place, it would likely raise the temperature even more and I'd lose my mind. Still, it was odd that he wasn't there. Matt wasn't a social person. In fact, if it wasn't for me, I don't think he'd have any contact with humans at all. He'd just stay holed up in this apartment day and night playing video games. We're good for each other, Matt and I. I keep him social and he keeps me sane, most of the time anyway.

See, Matt has this talent of occasionally having the opposite effect. As much as he can be the voice of reason for me, he can drive me just as far into insanity. But keeping me normal all the time is far too big a task for anyone, so I forgive him for it. He does his best.

I'm getting distracted again. Where was I?

Ah yes. Matt was away.

And he'd been away too. I hadn't seen him since last night, when he went out for a pack of cigarettes. At least that was what he'd said he went out for. But really, the gas station was one freaking block away. That doesn't take all night.

I wasn't worried about it. Matt wasn't stupid, and he always carried a knife on him. Sure, it crossed my mind that maybe he'd gotten mugged or something regardless…but I wasn't one to really worry over him. He had a cell phone. If he was hurt or something he'd call me.

The idea of him having been killed was ludicrous. No one was going to want to kill Matt. The guy was so inoffensive that even a complete paranoid freak couldn't be scared of him. So I wasn't worried about him in the least, and I was a bit too distracted with the fact that I was slowly losing every drop of water in my body to really think about him much at all. It was more like this petty annoyance poking at the back of my mind, saying, 'Where the hell is Matt?' again and again like some three-year-old that won't leave you alone.

"God, you can just kill me now," I said. "I'm already facing Hell right here. Damn heat."

My cell phone rang, vibrating on the table behind me, and I reached my arm back over my head to pick it up. It was Matt's number.

I flipped it open and put it to my ear. "Where are you?"

"Nice greeting," he said. Judging by the background noise I guessed he was in a store of some kind. "I guess I should be flattered. What do you know, Mels cares about me."

"Yeah right," I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, you got an answer? I'm dying here."

"Heat sucks, huh?" he said. "Listen, I'm on my way home, do you want anything from the mini-mart?"

"Ice. And a Gatorade, I'm about to dry up."

"Right-o Mr. Mafiaso. You got it." The other line clicked off, and I glared at the phone in disgust before dropping it to the floor.

The door opened about fifteen minutes later, and I tipped my head back over the arm of the couch. Matt slammed the door shut with his foot, his arms full with a large paper bag of stuff from the mart. For being out all night he sure did looking neat and tidy. In fact, he just looked neat and tidy period.

And Matt was one who didn't really bother about his looks.

"Where you been?" I asked again, as he tossed me a purple Gatorade and hefted a bag of ice onto the table behind my head. "Don't tell me you spent the night clubbing?"

As if. Matt in a club. Matt in a club with other people there. Amusing, but no.

Unless it was some techno geek club, like for those Cyberkid people who attached fiber optic cords to their bodies and wore goggles all the time. He had the goggles at least.

I amused myself for a bit with the idea of Matt being a secret raver, while he took the bag to the kitchen and began putting things away. Hmm, again no answer. What the hell was his deal? There was no denying it now; Matt was avoiding the question. I got up off the couch, grabbing the bag of ice and taking it to the kitchen. As I got a plastic baggy out of the drawer to put some of it in, I glanced over my shoulder at Matt, who was putting chocolate ice cream into the freezer.

"Hey," I said. "Did you ever get your cigs?"

"Yup. And hay is for horses Mello."

"Haha. Very funny. Red is for valentines, but you've still got hair that color, smart ass." I frowned. "So it took you all night?"

He glanced back at me. "I did some other stuff. And I did come home, but you were asleep. I just went back out."

"Suuure you did," I rubbed the ice bag over my arms, getting goosebumps at the sudden cold. But it was a nice escape from the heat. "Look man, you're a useless liar. Really, you're pathetic. What's the deal?"

"There's no deal," he said with a shrug. "Can't a guy drive around town for a while during the night?"

"Sure," I said, folding my arms and staring him down. "If a guy is prone to doing something like that. Which you aren't. Is there anything wrong with a guy being a little curious about another guy acting completely out-of-character?"

"In that case, yes, because that's just a 'nice' way of saying one guy is being nosy," he gave me a smile and a quick salute, spinning on his heel to walk back out to the living room. I followed close behind and gave him a shove in the back. He sat down on the couch, but as he did he grabbed my arm and dragged me down with him, resulting in a brief wrestling match between us as I tried to suffocate him in the couch cushions and he pulled at my hair. It came to standstill at last, with me sweating worse than ever and him grinning up at me.

"You know, common decency requires you to wear some clothing," he said.

"Yeah, well common California weather requires me not to. Unless you want me to melt."

He laughed and poked at my scar. "You already melted your face."

I glared at him and punched him lightly on the shoulder before I got off him to take a seat on my own side of the couch, and he sat up smiling good-naturedly. "Whatever," I said. "Like you're one to talk. I look damn good compared to you."

He shook his head as he grabbed the TV control. "You are a nasty person."

"Too bad. You're stuck with me."

"I could kick you out," he said. "I own the apartment, and I have the job. I pay the bills."

"Only because I remind you. Only because I have to wake you up in the morning to go to that job because you're immune to the alarm clock. Otherwise you'd be out on the streets. You should be thanking me."

"Fine," he sighed heavily, flipping through the TV channels and settling on some Mexican soap opera. As if he could actually understand a word of Spanish. Honestly, the kid was useless in LA. A couple started making out on the screen, full-on open mouthed tongue twisting, and Matt glanced over at me. "Look at that," he said. "Holy crap, he's eating her face."

I chuckled. "You're nuts. And you still haven't told me where you were."

"It's none of your business."

I folded my arms, reaching my foot up to shove it against his face. "I can make you talk. I'll tie you up and make you."

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try Mello. I could kick your ass any day."

I moved my foot, since I'd really just been kidding anyway. We were silent for several minutes, and then Matt said suddenly, "Hey, Mels…we're friends right?"

I gave him a weird look. "Of course we are."

"You know…we're cool? You and me?"

I stared at him blankly. "Yeeaah…are you going somewhere with this?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I was just thinking…we share an apartment and stuff…" he looked at me seriously. "But we have our own lives."

"Yes."

"We do our own things. But we're friends. We're free to do as we want. Have other friends too and…and you know just…live our own lives."

"Whatever Matt," I said, getting to my feet. "Did you get drunk last night or something?"

He frowned. "No. Well maybe a little, but-"

"Ah, okay," I smirked at him. "So you went out to get cigarettes, somehow ended up getting drunk and…let me guess…was it a one-night stand?"

His face turned bright red, matching his hair. "Well…sort of…"

"And you thought I'd care?" I laughed at him outright. "Why the hell would I care? Do what you want man. I don't know what you were making a big deal about it for. Unless you're shy because it was your first time or something."

"It wasn't," he said, looking uncomfortable. "And I didn't think you'd care. Really, why would I think you would care? I didn't think that. You were just being nosy. I have my own business."

I walked back to the bedroom, where I was hoping it would be cooler on the wood flooring. "Look, it could have been as easy as saying, 'I was out late because I fucked a whore'. That's not so hard."

I heard him make an irritated noise. "Don't say that."

…

Let's pause here.

Piece of Evidence Number 1: "Don't say that."

Don't say what exactly? He said it as if I'd genuinely offended him! What was offensive? The f-word? He said it all the time himself. He didn't have anything against swearing. And why all the beating-about-the-bush and hiding where he'd been? How could one go out for cigarettes and then end up drunk?

Let's continue.

…

I didn't say anything after that, and just lay down on the bedroom floor with my Gatorade and bag of ice, which I laid on my chest. Maybe it really had been his first time, so he was all sensitive about having it referred to so bluntly. Whatever. With how little he got out it wasn't that hard to believe anyway. The guy was twenty-one years old; it was about time he got out there and did something interesting with his life.

And yet…the situation was still suspicious. I couldn't make myself settle on, "He's just being shy".

I'm one whose suspicions don't die easy. They'll stick, and I'll obsess over them until I've found a reason to allow them to dissipate. So for the next few days, I was watching Matt carefully. It was only a matter of time before I discovered something, and sure enough, the very next day, I quietly entered the house to find him in the bedroom…talking on his cell phone.

Now I'd always been under the impression that Matt had no one to talk to but me and his boss. But I knew immediately that he was not talking to his boss (and of course he wasn't talking to me).

He hadn't heard me come in, luckily, so I snuck over to stand just outside the open bedroom door, pressed to the wall and listening hard. His voice came to me clearly.

"Yeah, I know. Sure, it would be great if I could see you again soon. I've just got the freaking watch dog prowling my apartment……yeah, Mello. He's never happy until he knows everything that's going on……no, I guess it doesn't matter……we've been friends a long time. He can be kinda crude though."

That shocked me. Crude? What the hell was he talking about? He was just as bad! Why would he care if I was crude? It was probably one of the most bizarre things I'd ever heard come out of his mouth. Having heard enough, I took a few heavy steps toward the kitchen then proceeded the rest of the way normally. I heard him hurriedly ending the phone call and rolled my eyes in irritation.

Late nights out, secret phone conversations…what next? Surely you're wondering why the heck I even cared, and I'll tell you. I hated things being kept from me, especially when it was so obvious. Secret secrets were good. Not-secrets secrets were bad and annoying. This happened to be a very blatant not-secret secret. It was just plain insulting.

As soon as I could, I got my hands on his cell phone and searched through his call history. I could hardly believe what I saw. Nearly a dozen calls in the last three days, all to the same LA number. I was just about to call it, but I heard Matt approaching and had to put the phone back in its place and occupy myself with something else so I wouldn't look suspicious. But I had no doubts now.

Something was going on, and I was going to find out what it was.

…

The next time Matt left the apartment for cigarettes, I watched him leave as carelessly as ever, but as soon as he was out the door I began to follow, moving quietly behind him as he made his way out of the apartment complex. Nothing unusual so far; he seemed to be on a direct route to the gas station where he always got his cigs, and where he also usually worked on weekdays. However, on account of him having gotten sick a few days back, he'd taken his two week vacation and would be off for a while. As if he'd needed that long to recover.

As I walked behind him I kept catching whiffs of something, and then I realized it was the scent of my cologne. What was he doing wearing that? I never even put it on! Why would Matt, Mr. I-Don't-Care-What-People-Think, bother with such a thing?

"Just what are you up to Matty-boy?" I said to myself, keeping a safe distance as I tailed him. So far, there had been no suspicious movement. He headed straight to the gas station and went inside, and I set up a surveillance point at the side of the building, peering in the large glass windows. He was standing at the counter, just getting Kools as usual, or so it seemed. But what was with the oh-so-friendly smile? And…what the…was he laughing?

A magazine rack was blocking my view of who was standing behind the counter, but whoever it was Matt was being awfully friendly to them. He kept leaning on the counter with his head to the side and this little smile on his face, and when he'd speak he'd make these expressions as if he was just the coolest thing on earth. Was he flirting with someone?

Impossible. Matt didn't flirt, and he didn't date either. The only thing he'd ever have a love affair with was his GameBoy. I huffed irritably as I watched him, wishing he'd just buy the damn cigarettes already and stop standing there looking so annoying.

Matt flirting. Ridiculous.

I glanced at my watch. He'd already been in there talking almost ten minutes, and I was beginning to get impatient. He was getting worse by the second, his tongue running lightly over his lips every now and then, an unconscious action I'm sure, but still completely wrong. Very, very wrong. And by the way his eyes moved I could tell he was really checking out who he was talking to, appreciating the way they looked.

I was giving him a death glare through the window when he suddenly glanced over and caught sight of me, his eyes widening as he did. I swiftly ducked out of sight, cursing as I did. Damn it, how was I going to explain this? Not that he didn't have plenty of explaining to do himself. I heard the gas station door open, and not wanting to be caught hiding, I walked boldly around the corner to almost run right into Matt.

"What the hell?" he said. "Mello-"

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, before he got a chance.

He stared at me a moment as if in disbelief, then said, "I always get my cigarettes here. I work here, so I get a discount. You know, I'm pretty sure I've explained this before. I think the better question is what are you doing here?"

"Me?"

"Unless there's another guy named Mello here that neither of us know about."

"Well…I'm…" I searched about for some excuse. There was no way I was going to tell him what I was really doing. Beginning to fiddle with the cross on my rosary out of nervous habit, I suddenly got an idea. "I'm going to mass of course."

Matt's face was blank. "Are you kidding?"

"Pft, no. Why would I be kidding? I'm going down to the chapel on North Main."

"Mello…" Matt spoke to me slowly, as if he was trying to make sense of the situation. It was that, or he spoke slowly because he thought I was losing my mind. "You don't even own a Bible."

"They have Bibles in church. But you haven't answered my question. What are you-"

"I bought cigs!" said Matt, exasperated as he held up a pack of Kools and shook it in my face. "Mello, you…" He took out one of the sticks right then and a lighter out of his pocket, lighting it up and taking a drag. "You are beyond comprehension. You're bizarre. Are you getting sick are something?"

"Oh, I'm bizarre. I'm the weird one. Well same to you buddy." I peered into the gas station windows again, but whoever had been behind the counter was gone now. I frowned. "What's your deal? All this sneaking around."

"Are you spying on me?" He folded his arms.

"You know, it's just plain rude to so obviously be keeping secrets," I said. I held up my hands. "But whatever. It's not like I care."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you clearly don't give a damn."

"Exactly. Now-" I glanced down at my watch again, not out of any real curiosity but just for looks. "Damn Matt, look at that. I'm late! Geez, you are so inconsiderate. Keeping me here, babbling away, wasting my time. You just can't shut your mouth can you? Some of us have responsibilities to a higher power, and I have to go."

He shook his head, giving me a little smirk. "Higher power, right. That's funny. Very funny. The heat has gotten to your head." He took the cigarette from his mouth and waved his hand. "Have fun."

Off he went. Damn him. Why hadn't he been nervous? It was almost as if he didn't even care that I'd seen him chatting it up with…someone. Not that that was the problem. If he'd just tell me about it everything would be fine. I hated secrets.

Matt faded out of sight down the street, and I went ahead into the gas station's store. Still no one behind the counter. I grabbed a chocolate bar off the shelf and tossed it beside the register, sighing as I waited. Nearly a minute passed and still no one came, so I began tapping the silver service bell on the counter. Once, twice, three times. Talk about poor service.

"Alright, alright! Quit ringing that thing!"

I actually took a step back from the counter. An older man with a grease stained shirt and receding hair came out of the back room to ring me up, and I was staring at him with wide eyes.

No. Just no.

"Hey, is anyone else working here?" I asked, as I handed over the money.

"Nope. It's just me," he said, handing over the chocolate bar in a plastic bag and giving me my change.

"Well, did someone just get off their shift then?"

He placed his hands on the counter. "I'm not at liberty to give our employees schedules out. Now will that be all?"

Sheesh, quick temper. Nasty old man. "Yeah, that's all." I resisted the urge to give him the finger as I went out the door, and pulled out the chocolate bar immediately to snap off a piece into my mouth. This wasn't good for me; I was beginning to obsess over it. I had a bad habit of doing that. So what if Matt was seeing someone? Why did it really matter? Sure it was annoying that he was keeping it a secret, but he'd come out with it eventually, wouldn't he?

I tried to forget about it, but the last straw came two days later. Matt came home from the market with a box of chocolates. Really nice quality, expensive, rich dark chocolates. Of course my first thought was, "Man, that was nice of him", because he rarely ate chocolate so the only person it could be for was me. I followed him into the kitchen, hoping I could manage to eat them before they melted in this awful apartment, but when I went to take them out of the bag…

"Um…those aren't for you…" he said awkwardly, giving me an apologetic smile. I could hardly believe it. Not for me?

"Who the bloody hell are they for then?" I snapped.

"Just…someone else."

…

And that was it for me. It was one thing to just be keeping secrets but when chocolate came into the picture that was it. How dare he? Spending all that money on chocolate for someone else! Someone he hadn't known for fifteen years, someone who didn't wake him up in the morning so he wouldn't be late for work. We were freaking best friends damn it, cheesy as that sounds. He couldn't just start ignoring me!

I was getting to the bottom of this, one way or another.

Expect Chapter 2 coming soon :)