Homosexuality is something that's being debated absolutely all the time these days. Some frown upon it, some love gays. Then there are the people who just don't give a fuck. Those are people like me, Matt. People like me don't give a flying frig what your lover's got between their legs. It's insane how pushy and invasive people can be, saying things like, "But how do you have sex?!" and "That's just disgusting," when they give them the answer.

It's not disgusting. It's natural.

How would I know? Oh, right, I'm one of those people.

I've always liked guys. Girls were always too annoying, too pokey, too snobby or too snarky. The only girl I ever really hung out with was Linda, and that's only because she refused to leave me alone and she eventually grew on me. She once tried to kiss me, but I pushed her away, even at fourteen—in the swing of the stereotypical horny pubescent boy stage. She gave me the cold shoulder for a little while, but it was worth it, not dragging her along only to dump her when I finally came out of the closet.

I don't know what's stopped me from letting it loose. It's not as if I'm embarrassed to say, "I'd love to fuck my future boyfriend up the ass." No, nothing like that. It's more like I don't want everyone to make a big stink over it, having people come up to me and ask me to quell their own curiosity, "Are you gay?" You know, because every single damned orphan in this school won't be talking about it within the first hour.

That, and people will be asking me the most obvious question for someone who watched me interact with the only two people I ever talked to at Wammy's:

"Are you gay for Mello?"

Yes. Okay, fucking yes. I have a fetish for Mister Goldilocks of Winchester himself. And that's not sarcasm, either. I would legitimately attach my mouth to his if ever given the chance. Well, you know, with his consent. Everyone knows that you never, ever do something to Mello he doesn't like. That gets you a punch in the face. I don't know if he'd like that or not, but I've been dropping hints on him for a while now. If that genius brain of his doesn't kick on and start working soon, I don't know how long I'll be able to last.

He just doesn't seem to get it.

I compliment his hair. Some gruff "Thanks?" and further ignorance.

I compliment his skin. Another gruff "uh, thanks?" and further ignorance.

I compliment his fucking shoes, the one sure sign that someone is gay. Guess what? Yet another gruff "Sure, thanks," and further ignorance.

Every single time I drop a damn hint right on his head like a rotten egg, he just brushes it off and doesn't even smell the stench. It's infuriating.

Unless he didn't like me back and just wanted to let me down easily.

Which was why I was absolutely terrified when Mello stalked up to me and plopped himself down across from me at lunch one day, with the heart rate-raising, simple statement, "Matt, we need to talk."

I almost dropped my GameBoy. Button mashing till I could save, I managed to keep a relatively cool exterior. About as cool as someone as hot as me could get, that is. "Yeah, sure, go for it."

"You've been acting really weird lately. Like some squealing teenaged girl."

My heart was thudding in my throat. I could have sworn Mello could hear it from his four feet away.

He continued. "Are you fucking gay or something?"

My face flushed bright red, far beyond my cool kid poker face skills. My GameBoy spilled onto the table as I sputtered, leaning forward slightly, "Uh, no, why in the hell would you think that—I'm into girls not guys, come on Mels—"

"Cut the shit, Matt." He slammed his hand down over my handheld game system and pushed it to the side. I became aware of the many stares the other kids were giving us, and I could hear in the slight pause in Mello's voice that the entire lunchroom had gone awkwardly silent. We were the main event in this circus.

His hands slammed down on the table in front of me, dangerously close to knocking my barely touched plate of spaghetti into the air. "Let's get something straight," he boomed, his voice rising intimidatingly.

I cowered. I hate to admit it, but I fucking cowered from my best friend slash wannabe boyfriend.

The vein in his neck pulsed as he stood halfway up. I braced myself for his loud voice directly in my face telling me to fuck off and that he was straight and to stop hitting on him.

Strangely enough, it didn't come.

"I'm not."

I blinked. "Wait, wha…?" My eyebrow raised before I realized what he had just said. "Let's get something straight. I'm not." Simultaneously, he fisted the collar of my T-shirt and jerked me forward, slamming my face into his.

He was kissing me.

Mello was fucking kissing me.

This was the absolute best moment of my life so far.

The entire lunchroom erupted into a mixture of cringes, cheers, and laughter. I ignored them, happily lost in the boy's lips that were currently atop my own.

Finally.

X

As predicted, we received a lot of that "So you guys are really gay, huh?" and other similar questions for the following few weeks. I tried to ignore them as much as possible and let Mello answer whenever he was with me. Still, I was left as that center of attention I know I never wanted to be.

But you know what?

It was fucking worth it.

A/N: This is going to be fun!

This entire fic will be a collection of oneshots of different ways Matt and Mello could come out of the closet to each other. So, in other words, if you don't like yaoi, you're in for a lot of it here. ;)

This will be my side project for the next month while NaNoWriMo is going on. I guess this will be my stress relief and writing booster whenever I get tired of my story. :3

Thanks so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed!

Reviews always make my day, and remind me to update quicker. ;)

Thanks again!

~Rachel