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Wammy’s house was a small orphanage for the intellectually adapt in England. There were only a handful of children considered intelligent enough to live there, but it just so happened that Mail Jeevas was one of them. Mail had to go by a faux name there, Matt, so any criminals couldn’t track him down. He supposed he liked it like that, though, because everyone mispronounced his name. For the sake of everything holy, it was pronounced Mile.
Matt loved Wammy’s. It was a fantastic comparison to the biological family he had lived with till he was five. Matt still sometimes had nightmares about them. Mello told him he was crazy. Mello was Matt’s best friend, and “boyfriend”. Boyfriend was a loosely spoken term, and Matt didn’t even know that’s what they were considered yet. Mello did, though, and he made sure everyone in the orphanage knew it.
The redhead was Mello’s, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could have a conversation with Mello’s fist. Their “relationship” was established with hand holding, secret sharing, and the occasional kiss to Matt’s forehead or cheek. It had yet to be an actual kiss, but that was the one thing Mello didn’t need. Mello had always been high maintenance and difficult, but with Matt it was never like that. As long as the two had each other, preferably only each other, Mello was good with it.
And Matt was, too. He was fine with being the center of Mello’s attention, although he never realized that’s what he was. Everyone else did, though. They saw it from the way Matt would receive Mello’s last piece of chocolate if he wanted it, and how if there was a thunderstorm Mello would go into Matt’s bed without needing to be told because he knew Matt was terrified of thunder. They knew it by the way Mello would go outside in the rain just because the only video game store in town had a copy of the newest game that Matt wanted, and they knew it by the way when the new kid, Mason Stark, but everyone called him Peter, had began hanging out around Matt.
Peter was twenty-third on the list, which had made Mello scoff, but Matt simply didn’t care about numbers. After all, Mello was technically number two, but he would always be number one in Matt’s book. Peter was the same age as Mello, thirteen, and had shaggy, brown hair and braces. Right off the bat, you could tell he was gay, and right off the bat, you could tell he was for Matt. Probably by the way he clung to Matt’s side, flirting with him—even though Matt was far too oblivious to realize that’s what he was doing. Right off the bat, Peter was a lot of things. For instance, right off the bat, he was on Mello’s most-hated list. It was ranked:
1) Matt’s mom and stepfather
2) Matt’s brother
3) Near, the damn sheep
4) Della, the librarian
5) Peter
6) The chick who had bumped into him in the mall, then called Matt an ugly parrot
There were more, but they weren’t on the top five. Before Peter, The Mall Bitch, as Mello had mentally referred to her, was fifth, but she was now bumped to six. As soon as Peter came waltzing into Wammy’s, Mello hated him. He was just entranced with Matt, and nobody except Mello is allowed to be entranced in the adorable gamer. He only dealt with him because Matt got along with him.
Mello had always had nicknames for Matt. As best friends and “boyfriends”, he got that right. Just as Matt’s the only person who can call Mello Mells, or Choco Blond as he called him when he was little—but nobody was supposed to speak of that. Mello had many nicknames for Matt. Matty, Gameboy, Psycho, and the forbidden name, Freckles.
Everyone knew Mello called Matt Freckles, everyone had heard it as some point. Just everyone in the orphanage had enough brain cells to realize only Mello reserved the right to call Matt Freckles. It was sometime in October when Peter learned that, too.
It was dinner and they were in the cafeteria eating food. Matt and Mello were sat directly next to each other, Mello watching Matt intensely. Peter sat across from the two and Linda sat near him. Matt dropped his spoon into his bowl of chicken soup, some broth droplets splashing onto the table. Linda swiped her napkin across them, the damn germaphobe.
“I’m so full,” he mumbled before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his Gameboy. Mello glowered and snatched the handheld device from Matt’s hands. Matt’s mouth popped into an O as he glared. “Give it back, Mells!” He shrieked with irritation. Mello rolled his eyes,
“Not till you eat all your food. You’ve barely eaten anything these past three days and all you’ve had today is that three bites of soup you just had,” Mello said as he stuffed the device into his pocket. Matt scoffed.
“Just give it back, Mello,” he said with irritation. Mello smirked, taking a bite of his own food.
“No.” Matt chewed on his lip to conceal his anger. The only thing that could actually make him blow a fuse was his games.
“Why not?” He asked gently, hoping that would win him back his Gameboy.
“Seriously, man, why not?” Peter asked from across the table. Mello’s eye twitched and clutched his spoon tighter.
“Because,” Mello said with venom, looking directly at Peter, even though it was directed at Matt. “I’m not going to let you starve yourself. Starting to make me worry you’re getting an eating disorder, Freckles,” Mello said as he guided Matt’s left hand to the spoon in his bowl. Matt glared at Mello, slapping his hand away before taking a bite.
“Shut up and leave me alone,” he mumbled darkly glaring at the table. Mello snorted.
“Whatever, Freckles.” Dinner continued something like this for the next fifteen some odd minutes before Peter spoke up.
“Hey, Freckles, you want to go watch a movie after this?” Mello felt his blood run cold at not only the mention of Peter and Matt alone together, but also the usage of Matt’s nickname. He wanted to beat Peter into a bloody pulp at that moment, but he instead clenched his fists and tried to pretend that he wasn’t in the same room as the vermin known as Peter.
Matt wasn’t looking any better. He was yanking at a strand of his red hair, chewing on his bottom lip with his eyebrows scrunched, eyes squinted behind his goggles. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe he was just so used to Mello being the only one to call him that, but he didn’t like it. “Matt?” Peter asked.
“Um,” Matt said uncomfortably. Peter raised a single eyebrow. “I-um . . . Don’t call me that!” Matt cringed at his outburst, wishing that for once in his life he could just be not awkward about something. Peter looked offended and Matt mentally kicked himself at being so damn weird.
“W . . . What?” Peter asks. Matt cringes, and Mello has to hold back a snicker. Could this get any better? Matt was upsetting Peter, and telling him off for using the nickname.
“I-I-I’m not trying to be mean!” Matt quickly defends. “Just, um . . . Only Mello calls me that, it’s just kind of, um, our thing.” Matt’s voice is quiet towards the end and he’s twiddling with his fingers while looking down with a guilty expression. Mello can’t help but feel slightly bad, but not for Peter.
“Oh . . . Okay, sorry . . . Matt.” Peter emphasized the word with venom dripping into his voice, shooting a glare at Mello. Mello just gave him a cocky smirk in return. Matt snatched his Gameboy out of Mello’s pocket and quickly scurried away, cheeks red with embarrassment. After Matt had left the cafeteria, Mello turned back to Peter with a smirk. The brunet glared at the blond, red faced with anger. Mello stood up.
“Well, I better be going,” he said then walked away.