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Matt wakes up to far-off noises in the other room and realizes he forgot Mello was going to stay over. He'd actually gone to sleep at a normal time last night, so when Mello called him and told him to unlock the door for him, as he'd be arriving in about... whatever amount of minutes he'd said, Matt shuffled half-asleep to the front door to unlock it and promptly went right back to bed. He can't tell if Mello tried to wake him up. If they had a conversation, Matt doesn't remember a single word of it.
He gets dressed just enough to not earn him a raised eyebrow and drags himself out to where the noise is coming from to see what Mello is doing. As he ends up in the kitchen, leaning against the first wall he sees with a yawn, he thinks for a second that Mello is making breakfast. Instead, Matt finds him with a double boiler on the stove, licking melted chocolate off a spoon.
Mello acknowledges him with only a glance. Matt can't help but laugh softly to himself, making Mello turn back around to look at him again.
"Nothing," he mumbles preemptively, voice still scratchy from sleep.
Although he's still groggy, Matt is still plenty capable of remembering which games he was planning to make progress in and walks away to turn the TV on. He doesn't make it out of the kitchen before he realizes that Mello got here after Matt had fallen asleep, yet he was up and about before Matt was even considering waking up. And who knows when he found time to go pick up the chocolate chips and coconut oil on the counter? The chocolate chips he actually might have already had, but Matt knows for a fact he didn't have any coconut oil.
"Did you sleep yet?" he asks.
"Later," is Mello's response.
Possibilities reel smoothly through Matt's head, like leisurely extending a tape measure, only to snap closed on his least favorite idea. He doesn't ask, but he assumes Mello had to kill someone last night. Mello might have caught on by now that Matt knows him well enough to notice his behavioral changes and accurately guess what happened to cause them, but there's not much Mello hates more than having things rubbed in his face. So, Matt stays quiet and continues on his way to start up one of his games.
Out of vague consideration, he crosses the more violent games off his mental list for the moment and instead picks one of the colorful, cartoony ones that kids are allowed to play. Crash Bandicoot it is, since there aren't guns in it and Matt still only has one of the colored gems.
After a while, Mello follows him into the living room and sits next to him, unopened chocolate bar in hand. Whether he had his fill or he's too tired to eat, he just keeps it in his hand for a bit until he sets it on the coffee table and lays down. He still has his boots on, which are now lying across Matt's lap, but Matt doesn't bug him about it.
"Why do you keep restarting?" Mello asks long after Matt assumed he'd fallen asleep.
"Gotta get through it without dying for the gem."
Mello hums like he understands. Matt knows he's never actually given a shit about video games.
After five more restarts, Mello speaks up again.
"Doesn't look that hard."
Matt reaches around in his mind for his patience, taking a moment to find it.
"I mean, you could always try it yourself," he says, standing still at the beginning of the level to offer the controller to Mello. He ignores it.
"Stuff like this always looks easier when you're not the one doing it," Matt explains.
"... Yeah. I get that."
Most Wammy kids are insomniacs because they take after L, because they think staying up all night for whatever they're working on is respectable rather than irresponsible. Mello was one of few who spent such sleepless nights doing nothing but studying. Everyone was vocal about thinking he was some natural, effortless genius like Near. Matt asked why he hated that assumption so much once, and Mello had said that it's frustrating to not have your efforts recognized.
Matt knew even then that Mello was understating things. Going without recognition doesn't frustrate Mello-- it devastates him.
"What happens if you don't get the gem?" Mello asks, the somberness gone from his voice to be replaced by pure curiosity.
"Well, nothing. You can beat the game without it and you can just try again whenever. Just need all of 'em to 100% it."
Mello seems dissatisfied by that answer, but he doesn't ask any more questions. Shortly after, Matt knows for sure this time that he's dozed off. Sick of throwing himself against a wall for the moment, Matt switches to a different game-- one he has downloaded so he doesn't have to get up to change the disc, inevitably disturbing Mello's sleep. It's a violent one, but he still needs to beat Devil May Cry, and Mello is asleep anyway.
Unfortunately, not even Dante is charismatic enough to pull Matt's attention away from Mello's sleeping face for long. It's weird seeing him peaceful. No traces of anger, of silent threats, of smug genius. No contemplations heavy on his mind, making him look like he's about to do something drastic when all he's doing is thinking. No, he's completely neutral for once.
Matt eventually remembers to actually pause the game rather than having Dante idle in place. Maybe he should start on breakfast. When he tries, slowly and gingerly, to remove Mello's legs from atop his lap, Mello conveniently turns onto his side and curls up. Even more out of character for him, for the egotistical prodigy who takes up as much space as he damn well pleases. At least Matt can get up now.
By the time he gets to the kitchen, the slightest modicum of motivation to make a proper meal has already left him, so he just pours a dry bowl of cereal and almost forgets to grab a spoon before he walks back out. His eating pace is slow, like it always is, and he gets bored of his food before it's gone, like he always does. Maybe fixing one of those problems would solve the other as well. Matt can't bring himself to care.
Matt loses track of time, but at some point, Mello stirs.
"Just fucking cleaned the last one you left out," he mumbles, kicking the table just in front of the half-finished bowl of cereal.
"Chill, I'll finish it later."
"You never do."
Only because you're always putting shit away before I can, you damn mother hen, he thinks. For some reason, Mello feels the need to pick up after Matt when he visits. Not to the extent that he'll clean the whole house or anything, but he can't seem to stand food lying around. Maybe Mello just wants to exist in a clean environment. Matt takes that thought back when he remembers how Mello always allows the mafia bases to fall into whatever disrepair its members see fit. His first assumption was more accurate, he decides.
Mello sits up and finally takes his boots off. He hisses as he does it, which is the only thing that makes Matt look over at him, and he notices a huge bruise going down Mello's right ankle. No wonder he didn't want to take them off. It probably feels better now without pressure around it though, even if the friction was unpleasant.
Matt decides Mello doesn't need to be walking around today. Mello probably came here to begin with because he knew this would happen and doesn't have it in him to properly ask for help. He doesn't need to with Matt.
Throughout the day, Matt takes care of Mello between his dozing. He can't seem to stay asleep-- must be too on edge from whatever happened yesterday. Mello doesn't make demands or even requests, just voices statements like "thirsty..." or "when does the Chinese restaurant down the street open?" and Matt takes care of him without hesitation. He catches Mello staring at him throughout the day and knows he isn't taking it for granted. He smiles when Mello isn't looking, and then again when he is.
Being a mafia executive and all, Mello typically shows his appreciation either in completely unconventional manners or by simply showering the recipient in hard cash with no questions as to where he got it from. Matt, however, obviously has inheritance from Wammy and isn't anything like anyone in the mafia, seeing as he's only about half-involved in it simply by being willing to assist Mello with absolutely anything. So instead, Mello sits him down and, for once, has trouble maintaining eye contact. He pretends that the wall needs an eye kept on it as he thanks Matt, genuinely, for always being there for him, for being so willing to take care of him when he's "not even injured", as he says.
"Well, think of it this way: if you ever get real fucked up, I'll be there drinking gallons of coffee just so I can take care of you every single second," he jokes. They both know it isn't a joke.
Mello is silent for a good while, abandoning the wall in favor of staring at the floor instead. At least that places his gaze closer to Matt.
"Maybe not dead, but I'd certainly be fucked without you," he eventually says.
"Sure would."
Mello finally looks at him for that-- success. Matt smiles up at him from the couch and Mello rolls his eyes. He makes for the kitchen, no doubt about to dip into the stash of chocolate Matt keeps for him. He doesn't expect a bar to be tossed at him as Mello sits down next to him, immediately propping his foot up on the coffee table. Matt is distracted by the bruise again, mindlessly moving the chocolate bar just so it's not on his lap as he stares. Mello brings his other leg up and crosses them so the bruise is out of view.
Just like that-- out of sight, out of mind-- Matt snaps out of it and looks down to actually acknowledge what Mello has given him. Because he always has so damn much, Mello doesn't give a shit if anyone takes some of his chocolate unless he's running low or hates the person, but Matt doesn't think he's ever witnessed Mello giving one to somebody. Matt guesses he must be special and chuckles to himself as he snaps a piece of the chocolate off in a clear imitation of Mello. Mello uncrosses his legs to kick him. He's smiling.
Matt finds himself thinking for a moment that if kicking Matt is what makes Mello smile, he'll gladly get stomped to death. His reasoning that he must stay alive no matter what in order to continue to assist Mello loudly overtakes even a joke like that, allowing no room in his mind for such thoughts.
Pretending that he has no goals or purpose, that he's just some lazy guy who avoids social interaction as much as possible and thus has no life, is what Matt considers to be his hobby. To say that his life has no meaning is factually incorrect. L used to throw out percentages all the time, Near does it too, and Mello even had a phase where he copied that trait as well. Matt, though, doesn't bother stating chances unless they are either 0 or 100.
For example, the chances of Matt succeeding L are 0%, for a myriad of reasons. If Mello beats Near to Kira and properly succeeds L, though? No Wammy kids have ever considered nor desired such a thing, but Matt would consider himself the successor to Watari in that case. And he wouldn't have it any other way.