Work Text:
Matt didn’t like chocolate.
He only ever ate it in desperate situations, like when he had the munchies and had raided every cabinet in the flat but Mello’s chocolate drawer. He was more of a savoury guy; he liked roast beef Monster Munch, and pretzels and sometimes even pickles straight from the jar – which Mello had banned the consumption of in bed, after he found his pillow was starting to smell like vinegar.
So, on Wednesday morning, when Mello opened the fridge and discovered a nicely wrapped brownie on top of his pre-packed lunch, he assumed Matt had bought it for him.
It was surprisingly sweet- Matt wasn’t really a romantic or thoughtful guy. His love language was less gift-giving and more… sex-giving… and meme-sending, and maybe a bit of nude-requesting, so he happily packed the brownie with the rest of his lunch and told himself to send him a thank-you text later.
He forgot all about it until his lunch break rolled around at one thirty.
In all honesty, the brownie didn’t taste very nice. It had a chemical tinge to it and was so overly gooey it stuck to his teeth like glue, and Mello spent his break self-conscious that his co-workers could see it and might think he had gross, rotten smokers teeth- kind of like Matt was starting to get at the back. So Matt had gotten scammed with a bad brownie, whatever; it was the thought that counted- Mello was still happy.
He went back to his desk, logged into his computer, and thought nothing else of it.
By the time forty minutes had passed, he had already refilled his water bottle twice, and his eyes were starting to feel really, really dry.
He had so many fucking emails to get through. He could barely concentrate on them; he kept zoning out, which wasn’t really like him, but he was pretty sure he knew what was wrong…
That fucking promotion. He just couldn't get it out of his head,
He and Near had both gone up for the same one, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew Near was going to get it. That asshole just got fucking everything.
One thing Mello was especially jealous of was Near’s desk. Near had the nicest desk. It was standalone and right next to the radiator, because he apparently got Raynaud's in the winter, and couldn’t possibly just fucking wear gloves. Mello’s desk was in between Misa’s (annoying) and Matsuda’s (extra annoying!), and right in front of a leaky window that did nothing to keep the sound of traffic away.
Whoever got the promotion would get their own whole office… that was exactly what Mello needed! He thought Near was being so selfish by applying, when he clearly didn’t need the space as much as Mello did.
The worst part was everybody else knew Near was going to get the promotion too. Mello wasn’t an idiot; Near’s superiority (and then, in turn, Mello’s inferiority) was common workplace knowledge.
When he’d (vulnerably) asked Halle what she thought the other day, she’d given him a condescending smile, patted him on the back, and said: ‘There’ll be other opportunities!’.
13 UNREAD EMAILS
Fucking hell, he really couldn’t concentrate today. He felt so spaced out… maybe it was because Misa was painting her nails next to him. The smell of acetone was making his head hurt. God, he was going to have to say something… he hated talking to Misa when he was trying to work; once she started speaking, she never ever stopped.
“Misa,” he hissed.
Misa looked over, surprised. She carefully dipped the brush back into the bottle of polish, and then wiggled her fresh, cherry-red nails at him.
“New colour- what do you think?”
“It’s giving me a headache.”
“Aw, really? Sorry,” she pouted. “I just have to do the other hand, and then I’ll stop, promise!”
Mello groaned. “Why aren’t you working?”
“Oh, I’m all finished!!”
“You have-” he leaned forward to check her computer screen. “28 unread emails.”
Misa blew a raspberry and closed the email tab.
“They’re all spam, and besides, I’m way too excited for my date with Light tonight! I can’t even concentrate! Look- I’m so excited, I’m shaking!” She held out her arm, which was indeed shaking, but probably because she was doing it on purpose. I can't even paint my other hand! Maybe you could do it, Mello?”
“No fucking way.”
“I’ll do it, Misa!” Matsuda’s head popped up from beside Mello. “I paint my little sister’s nails all the time!”
“Oh, you do? That’s so cute!” Misa beamed and began to scoot her chair closer to Matsuda- and by default, right up to Mello. “Would you really?”
“Yeah, sure!”
“Okay- swap places with Mello! He won’t mind.”
Matsuda gave Mello a sceptical look (he was a little frightened of him), but Mello just rolled his eyes and stood up. There was no point arguing, and he’d take any degree of separation from the smell of nail varnish at this point.
He unplugged his laptop from the wall, leaving the charging end in, and started to put his things into his bag. Then he plugged his laptop in again, and tried to move with it still connected to the wall. The wire pulled taut.
Fuck, that was dumb. He unplugged the charging port and moved along to Matsuda’s seat, but then realised he hadn’t unplugged it from the wall this time, and had to go back to his desk to get it.
“A little slow today, Mello!” Matsuda grinned, but his smile died immediately after he saw the death glare Mello was giving him.
He did feel slow, though. His head felt stuffy, like it was filled with cotton wool, or jelly or something else too thick to think through. Maybe he was getting sick…
Luckily, he was too spaced out to take in Misa and Matsuda’s enthusiastic chattering, and he was able to turn his attention back to the end of the 150-word email he’d been reading for half an hour now.
I’ve also attached the project outline. Please send the edited version by Thursday.
Thanks!
-Dwight
Thursday… It was Friday, but he’d only sent it this morning, so that meant he had almost a week to finish it? How many working days was that? That was… seven… minus two- or was it three? Did today count? Fuck, he couldn’t think.
He dropped his head in his hands and stared blankly at the screen.
Dwight sent Mello shit to edit all the time, and he always signed off with a friendly ‘Thanks!’. Mello hadn't returned the familiarity yet, but he found it endearing. It made him picture Dwight as young, laid-back, and attractive, when in reality he was probably fifty years old and sick-and-fucking-tired of his job.
Oh, he had to reply. Okay. He could do that.
He clicked ‘reply’ and stared at the blinking cursor.
Had it always blinked that rhythmically?
He felt like he could hear it flashing. It made a pulsing noise in his head, almost like a heartbeat, and- oh right. Email.
To: GordonDwight
RE: HORIZONS PROPOSAL
Hi Dwight,
Will do.
Best,
Mihael
He clicked out of the email thread. Okay, twelve to go. That was fine, he really- Hold on.
He clicked back on the email he sent.
Something felt wrong.
He re-read it two, three, four times, looking for what he’d said that was making him feel so paranoid. It seemed fine, though. He checked that he hadn’t accidentally attached something compromising- but no, he was clear there too. Fuck. Why did he feel so anxious?
He shouldn’t have thought about Dwight potentially being attractive before he wrote back. That was super unprofessional and weird, and if those thoughts had somehow leaked into the email, then he was absolutely screwed. He’d never get the promotion.
“Hey, Mello!” Misa called, forcing Mello to tear his eyes away from the screen.
“Yeah?”
“Whaddya think? Matsu did a good job, didn’t he?”
She held her hands out to him, the glossy varnish catching prettily in the night, and he stared at them.
“Yeah, they’re… super red.”
Misa giggled. “Yep! So, what do you think Light is going to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Aw, come on! What would you think if your girlfriend had her nails like this?”
Mello blinked. “Misa- you know I’m gay, right? I have a boyfriend?”
“What!? No way!”
“I’m sure I've told you that..”
“Nope! Matsu, did you know?”
Matsuda shook his head, eyes wide. “No.. You never really tell us anything about your life!”
Mello felt like he wasn’t getting enough air when he breathed. He took a deep, shuddering breath and stared back at them.
“Well, tell us more!” Misa pressed. “What’s his name?”
“Matt.”
Misa squealed. “Matt! Oh my god- that totally suits you! Do you love him?”
“Well, we live together, so…”
Misa squealed again and fanned her face with her hands. “Oh my god!! I’m so happy for you! Y’know, I was kinda worried you were all grumpy because you’re alone, but I guess that’s just your personality! Can I see a picture? Is he cute?”
Mello pushed himself to his feet, suddenly feeling very hot. That paranoid feeling was still there, the email weighing heavily on the back of his mind. “I need some water; I’ll be right back.”
Something was wrong. He felt really weird. Things weren’t connecting in his head- like he couldn’t reach his thoughts. He’d never felt like this when he was sick before- it was a strange kind of sickness- shit, maybe it was really serious. Maybe he had a fucking brain tumour.
Holy shit!
He filled his water bottle up, dazedly staring at the bubbles that floated up in the tank.
That was alarmist. It probably wasn’t a brain tumour… he was being dramatic…
But now that thought was in his head, he couldn’t get it out.
He had to text Matt.
MELLO: Hello. Reply
Matt replied seconds later.
MATT: wazzup
MATT: Just woke up :p stil in bed
MELLO: I feel sick
MATT: aw come home then
Mello frowned. Of course Matt would say that- he didn’t understand what it was like to have an actual job, not when he did that work-from-home freelance shit.
MELLO: Can’t
MATT: throw up on ur boss lol
MELLO: Not that kind of sick
MELLO: I need to see a doctor
MATT: :O
MATT: that bad???
MELLO: I could be dying
MATT: U crazy lol
MATT: If u feel that bad come home
MATT: maybe i can make u feel better ;)
Mello turned his phone off. Matt never took anything seriously. Mello could die and Matt would still find a way to make a sex joke out of it.
He had been sipping on his water bottle whilst he and Matt were texting, and it had almost run out already. Luckily, he hadn’t moved from the water fountain, so he filled it up again, but that was starting to stress him out as well. He felt like everyone was staring at him and judging him for how much he was drinking. He felt like if he went to the bathroom, everyone would be thinking, serves you right for drinking so much!
No, surely not. Why was he so anxious? These were Matt-thoughts, not cool, self-assured Mello-thoughts. Nobody was watching him.
He looked up. Halle and Near were staring at him. They quickly looked away when Mello made eye contact, but he could feel their eyes on him all the same.
His heart was hammering now. He was so stressed, he didn’t even have the foresight to wonder why he was so upset about his coworkers looking at him; he just rushed back to his desk and collapsed in Matsuda’s chair.
Misa and Matsuda were still chatting happily, so engrossed in conversation they didn’t even look over when Mello sat down. Matsuda’s desk neighbour, a shy girl called Laura, didn’t look over either, but she did shuffle her chair away a little bit. His paranoia increased.
MELLO: Everyone in the office hates me
MATT: isnt that wat u want?
MATT: u cant be no.1 and be liked i warned u
MELLO: You think they hate me??
MATT: idk probably not
MATT: can we go to the cinema tonight? I wanna watch RE movie plz :)
MELLO: Something bad is happening
MATT: thats the spirit lol
He was saved from thinking about breaking up with his useless boyfriend by the ping of an Outlook notification, though instead of seeing another safe, grounding task from Dwight, he was met with an email from his boss.
FROM: LLAWLIET
RE: URGENT MEETING
Please meet me in my office at 16:00
- L
If he felt anxious before, it was nothing like he felt now. What the fuck was that about? L never invited people into his office. His mind floated back to Halle and Near watching him at the water fountain… had they known something was coming? Was he being fired?
16:00... That was.. It was 15:47 now. How long did he have? He just couldn’t do the maths and that scared him. He was great at maths. He was great at everything!
The only thing he was sure of was that he had time to get to the toilets and call Matt.
It wasn’t that he thought Matt would be particularly very helpful, but he was the only person who could talk sense into him when he was upset- and Mello was really, really hoping he could work his Matt magic this time.
There was nobody else in the bathroom, so he shoved the bin against the door in the hopes it would keep unwanted coworkers out, and then he locked himself in the far cubicle.
His hands shook as he dialled Matt’s number and brought the phone to his ear. He didn’t remember ever feeling this frightened- certainly not as an adult. His heart was thudding so hard he thought he might be sick, and that horrible feeling of breathlessness had returned.
The ringing grew louder and louder and louder, and Matt wasn’t picking up, and he didn’t know how much time had passed and he had to go to that meeting and-
“Yo, sup!”
“Oh fuck, Matt! Something is really wrong- I need help- I don’t know-”
“Woah, woah, Mells, chill out-” Matt said, concern tinging his voice. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know! I feel really bad; there’s something wrong with me.”
“Have you been sick?”
“No, I just feel… spaced out and tired and confused… nothing makes sense, and I feel like everyone hates me and I can’t stop drinking and-”
He could hear Matt moving on the other side of the phone- his feet running down the stairs.
“-I think I’m going to be fired. Everyone’s been staring at me all day, and I sent a really stupd email and-”
The sound of the fridge opening, and then- “Oh shit!”
“I know!”
“No, no, no- okay, Mello- it’s like- okay, everything is fine-”
“It’s not-”
“Babe, babe, babe- chill. I think I know what’s wrong..”
“You do!?”
“Yeah. I uh- did you take that brownie from the fridge this morning?”
“What- yeah? “
“How long ago did you eat it?”
“I don’t know… lunchtime? How long ago was that? Time doesn’t make sense.”
Matt made a little humming noise, and then sighed deeply, as though he was trying to work out how best to say it.
“Right, well… Don't be mad, okay? So, well, the good news is you’re not sick! The bad news is… you’re super fucking stoned right now, and it’s probably gonna get a lot worse.”
“What. The. Fuck.”
“I’m sorry! I bought an edible from B; I forgot to tell you!”
Mello shook his head in disbelief. This was not fucking happening.
It wasn’t like he’d never been high before- living with Matt meant smoking the occasional joint was sort of part of the tenancy agreement- but he had never been that into it. He didn’t like the feeling of being lazy and stupid; losing access to his brain was a really, really uncomfortable feeling for him, plus, he liked wearing low-rise jeans way too much to afford getting the munchies every weekend.
“What do you mean it’s going to get worse?”
Matt laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, so, that was about 100mg… that brownie was actually meant to be cut into four pieces… It’s not gonna hit properly for… I guess another hour?”
“Oh my god. I’m going to fucking die.”
“Nooo! No no no no!” Matt said quickly. “Just- I’ll come pick you up! You finish at half four anyway; I’ll pick you up, and then you can lie in bed and eat chocolate and watch whatever you want on TV! I’ll look after you! It’ll be fun! Hey- I’m literally jealous of you right now!”
Mello let out a pathetic wail, and almost burst into tears then and there. “L called me in for a meeting at four!! I’m gonna be fucking fired, Matt! I’ve been acting so weird- I bet everyone knows I’m high- oh my god, how could you be so fucking stupid!?”
“Well! You shouldn’t have eaten something that wasn’t yours!”
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Mello hissed.
“I’m sorry!! No, look, it’s gonna be okay; you never look as high as you feel. I’m sure everything is fine.”
“How am I supposed to go in there and act normal!?”
“Just… just don’t say anything- well, say a bit, but not too much. Just try to be chill, okay?”
“I’m so fired…”
“No! It’s gonna be okay! Splash some water on your face, chin up and go in there, okay? It’s five to now, so you might wanna-”
“Five to!?”
“It’s fine! Look, I’ll drive round anyway, no matter what happens in that meeting. Just tell them you’re sick and go home afterwards, okay? I’ll be there.”
“Okay…” The thought of Matt being there was comforting enough that he remembered how to breathe, and he felt ever so slightly better about hanging up and going to L’s office.
Actually, no, he didn’t. He was shitting it.
“Right, you go to your meeting. It’ll be fine, babe. I love you!”
“I really really hate you,” Mello replied miserably, and hung up.
The walk to L’s office was agonising.
He wished he felt relieved at knowing he was not falling victim to the early signs of a brain tumour, but all he felt was dread. He hadn’t looked in the mirror to check his eyes- the idea of seeing himself was far too scary- but he was sure everyone could tell. He wondered if that was what Halle and Near had been gossiping about when he saw them before… Near was definitely a big enough snitch that he would’ve gone straight to their boss and grassed him in. Fucking Near.
Maybe it was better before he knew he was high… at least he’d had plausible deniability.
He didn’t have to worry about gathering up the courage to knock on L’s door, because no sooner had he approached, Watari had opened it, and was gesturing him inside.
L’s office was big and bright and spacious, and a pine-tree air freshener misted over him as he walked by.
L was sitting at his desk in his funny little crouching way, swaying side to side a little in his spinny chair. He nodded good naturedly at Mello, and gestured for him to sit down opposite him.
Mello obliged, no less anxious than before, and for a crazy moment he thought about copying L’s sitting position as a sign of respect or something, but he was too concerned about his weed-induced lack of balance throwing him off, so he sat down normally, sitting on his hands to stop himself from doing anything weird.
“Mello, hello. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s okay…”
“Would you like a brownie?”
Mello’s head snapped to the tray of brownies Watari was holding, and he stared at them in abstract horror. What kind of psychological fucking mind game was this!?
“I- no!”
“Hmm, shame,” L said, and picked up a brownie for himself. “I get these personally made at the bakery down the road… they’re very good.”
Mello nodded anxiously, but still didn’t move to take one himself. He had a horrible feeling this was a fucked up test.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about the promotion you applied for,” L said conversationally, words slightly mumbled behind a mouthful of brownie. “I’ve been looking through your work recently, and I have to say, I’m impressed.”
Mello nodded again. He was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he wasn’t speaking, but all of a sudden his mouth didn’t work.
“I’ve been in contact with Dwight Gordon too.”
“Oh?” Mello managed weakly.
He couldn’t stop thinking about his email… he felt like he must’ve attached something terrible to it, but he just couldn’t see it when he checked before. What incriminating stuff did he even have on his laptop? All he kept on there was work stuff, maybe the occasional pirated movie…but he had this crazy paranoid picture he’d somehow managed to attach nudes, or a random xvideos link, or-
“He’s very pleased with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes… you sound surprised.”
Mello shook his head. “I’m not- I don’t-”
L looked at him closely for a second, and Mello could’ve sworn his eyes lingered on his own, very dry ones- but then he was reaching for the brownie tray again, and wiggling his fingers over the top of them as he carefully made his selection.
“He says you’re a hard worker and creative, and that’s all we really needed for the promotional position, so… you’ve got it.”
Mello stared at him dumbfounded. “What?”
“It’s yours. I’ll send you the documents you need to sign tomorrow, but feel free to move your stuff into the office. Watari will show you where it is.”
“I got it?”
“If you don’t want it you can still rescind your application, but I would advise against it. It’s a good job.”
“No, no, I do want it! I know where the office is; I can move my stuff in!”
“Good. Well, that’s all I needed you for… You can get back to work, or-” he glanced up at the clock, frowned a little, and then looked back. “Well, you can probably leave. I suppose you no longer have the job you were working on, and you look… tired.”
“Yeah- I am, actually,” Mello rose to his feet quickly, “Thank you! This is- a great.. Uh, privilege. It’s a privilege to work with you.”
L looked at him, amused, and nodded. “Thank you, Mello. I look forward to working with you more closely.”
Mello nodded happily, hesitated, and then bolted out of the door.
He was too stoned-relieved-happy-excited to bother going back for his laptop and water bottle. He could worry about that in the morning; for now, all he wanted to do was get to Matt- his stupid boyfriend who was waiting outside for him. He still wasn’t wholly sure if he was going to let him live or not, but he did know he was so excited to see him.
There were two other people in the lift, but that didn’t stop him from beaming stupidly, and as they descended towards the ground floor, he felt the paranoia rise from his shoulders.
He suddenly felt so good! He wondered how much of that was due to the promotion and how much of it was due to being stoned- and with that thought on his mind, he began to giggle.
He couldn’t hold it back. The giggles bubbled up in his chest until he was full-on laughing, clinging to the handrail to stop himself from toppling right over. The two women in front of them kept whipping round to sneak nervous glances at him- maybe even check he wasn’t some crazy freak who had snuck into the office- and rather than sobering him, that just made him laugh even more.
He was still giggling as he stepped out of the building.
Matt was parked, of course, and leaning against his car with a cigarette between his lips. Mello recognised that nervous smoking stance from a mile away. Matt was fucking terrified. That just made Mello even happier.
Matt flicked the cigarette away the moment he saw him, and hurried over to wrap him up in a tight hug.
“Oh my god, Mells-” He pulled back to assess him, face lined with worry and guilt. “Holy shit, your eyes!”
“Do they look bad?”
“They’re half fucking shut! You look so fucked… oh god, you lost your job!”
Mello shook his head and slumped against Matt, forcing him back into the hug. He suddenly felt super lazy. “No… got promoted.”
“What!? Are you serious?”
He smiled sluggishly and nodded against Matt’s chest. “I’m the fucking best. Do you really think a stupid brownie could get me fired?”
Matt laughed and pressed his cheek against Mello’s head, his whole body practically melting with relief. “Yeah, you’re great… oh man, I was so fucking scared.”
“Not as scared as me!” Mello frowned and pulled away. “You should still be scared; I’m still going to kill you.”
“Aw shit, I knew it… before or after your high wears off?”
“Hmm... after… I need to eat first.”
“Cool! Munchie stage- I like it!”
He unlocked the car, and they both climbed in, though Mello took an extra long time to put his seat belt on, because he found he liked the way it felt when it slid in and out of the retractor, so he had to experiment with that for several minutes before Matt got frustrated and put it in for him.
“That was the worst high of my life…” Mello sighed as Matt jammed the car into gear.
“Well, it’s not over yet. It’s only been like… two and a half hours? It hasn’t even started yet.”
Mello groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He was so exhausted. Sure, the paranoia was gone, but he wanted his own clear head back- the stupid stoner brain he had been left with couldn’t even comprehend that it had only been two and a half hours. Lunchtime seemed like it had been days ago.
“No… There’s no way. You can’t get higher than this.”
Matt grinned, and his hand slid to Mello’s thigh.
“Aw, babe,” He said, squeezing gently. “You can always get higher.”
___
By the time they got home and Matt had tucked him up in bed, Mello realised his words had been true. It seemed he could always get higher.
He had fused into the mattress; it was like a shell on his back, and the blanket was his skin. He was one with the bed, and he couldn’t separate himself if he tried.
He had never felt lazier in his life, and Matt was fucking thrilled.
“You look so stoned,” he said, stroking Mello’s hair and grinning down at him. “I’ve never seen you like this. Are you still freaking out?”
“No…” Mello said uncertainly. “How long will this last?”
“Probably all day- you took a lot. But don’t worry, I’m gonna join you. I just took three gummies.”
“Noo… Why would you do that to yourself?”
Matt grinned and snuggled into bed beside him, pulling the duvet across himself in a way that made Mello feel super hyper alert to how the material was touching him… but his arms were too heavy to fix it, so he just had to lie in his own discomfort.
“I wanna spend the day stoned with my junkie boyfriend. We can watch a movie, order food… dude, this is literally my dream day.”
“Your dream is my nightmare.”
“Aw, you drama queen. Come on, what do you wanna watch?”
The remote was lodged under Mello’s back- something he’d been distantly aware of the whole time but hadn’t quite had the energy to think about. It took Matt a while to find it, but when he did, he pulled it out and sort of manhandled Mello into a cuddly position where he was leaned against his chest, tucked up under Matt’s chin.
Mello was too stoned to even name a show, let alone think of one he wanted to watch, and so Matt just opened Netflix and resumed the episode of Breaking Bad they’d been watching before, and then immediately pulled out his phone to open up JustEat.
Matt loved Breaking Bad- he’d been totally obsessed with it in Uni, which of course made Mello swear off watching it all together, because he hated being told to watch things; but he was giving it a go now and was honestly really enjoying it. It was right up his alley; he only wished he’d discovered it before Matt.
Walt and Jesse were in their meth lab, kitted up in bright yellow hazmat suits with bubbling round-bottom flasks behind them. They were arguing about something… or maybe they were happy? Mello was never quite sure what terms those two were on, but something was happening, and he was trying to concentrate.
‘These numbers. They just don’t add up.’
‘Told ya. Dude’s totally boning us!’
‘Nah... it’s not that. It’s our output. We’re off. We’re point one-four per cent off?’
‘Point one-four, that’s like..? What does that mean?’
‘It means we should be netting more than we’re netting.’
“Dude, delivery is only 15 minutes!”
‘So how far off are we?’
‘It’s not negligible. Ball-parking it, I’d say we’re a quarter to a half pound shy.’
‘Shit… That’s weird. Well, what about spillage?’
“Hey, and mozzarella sticks are back!”
‘Spillage?’
‘Yeah, you know. Just stuff gets- ‘
‘Nothing gets spilled.’
‘Well, a little, maybe.’
‘Jesse. Nothing gets spilled.’
“I am gonna fuck this menu up, holy shit!”
Yeah, Mello couldn’t concentrate.
He stopped trying to work out what they were arguing about. Everything was overlapping anyway; where Jesse ended, Matt began, and he was in no state to untangle them.
Matt placed their order, threw his phone down, and finally turned his attention to the tv.
“Sorted. So, what’s happening?”
Mello’s brain lagged. He squinted at the TV.
“Uh.. Mozzarella sticks are back on the menu?”
“Fuck yeah they are,” Matt grinned and kissed the top of Mello’s head. “Oh shit, I know this episode- it’s the one with the Fly! Aw babe, you’re in for a treat. This episode gets intense.”
“Oh… yay..”
_____
The food took ten minutes longer than expected, so they made it through almost half the episode before the doorbell rang and Matt ran to answer it.
To be honest, Mello had been falling asleep a little, which he was glad about, because sleeping this thing off sounded like a great option to him. The intense episode he’d been promised was also pretty fucking boring… he wasn’t totally sure what was going on, but it seemed like they were just trying to kill a fly.
Jesse and Walt were the only two characters as well, which was really tripping with his already weak understanding of the passage of time. This one scene had lasted both five and five hundred minutes simultaneously, and he didn’t even really like Walt. He liked Gus and Mike- the badass characters with guns and body counts, who actually got shit done.
And he really liked Jesse too… though maybe that had a lot to do with the fact he reminded him of Matt.
If Matt was an American Meth dealer, Mello was sure he’d be exactly like Jesse Pinkman, right down to the shitty fashion sense.
In a way, it sort of made him feel extra protective over Jesse when things went wrong. It made him think about Matt getting hurt or taken advantage of, and as lame as it was to admit it, the thought of that just made him feel really sad. He really, really just fucking loved that guy…
He loved him so much.
Ow.. His chest was starting to hurt with the intensity of it, actually. He breathed in very deeply, and his ribs ached against it.
Matt would be the type to get taken advantage of in some shady drug business though.
He was too… well, he wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t think things through. Mello suspected a lot of that stemmed from his inherent laziness- he was always losing out because he was just too lazy to even try.
Matt’s terrible job was an example of that- he got paid like shit despite the antisocial hours, and his bosses sent nasty, vile emails, but when he’d been offered an incredible position at one of the best companies in his field, he had procrastinated replying for so long the offer expired.
Nope- it was too sad to think about. Mello felt sick when he remembered how upset Matt had been, and how hard he tried to hide it from him.
On screen, Walt was shouting at Jesse. Fucking prick. If somebody ever spoke to Matt like that, Mello would fucking kill them. Yeah, he’d actually do it. He’d definitely kill somebody for Matt… he was so sure of it, it was making him upset.
He heard himself crying before he realised he was doing it, but yeah, he was sobbing alright, and he couldn’t stop.
Why was love so fucking scary and sad!?
He couldn’t stop thinking about Matt’s face when he’d missed that job opportunity… and then all the other times he’d seen him upset… and then all the other times that Matt had been upset that Mello hadn’t been there for, stemming all the way down to when he was just a tiny baby.
It was actually so devastatingly depressing. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought about this before, but Matt had actually gone through-
“Dude, they forgot the garlic mayo, I’m actually- woah, holy shit!”
Matt rushed across the room to him, mouth agape, dropping the building McDonald's bags on the bed.
“Are you okay? Why are you crying!?”
“I really don’t want to watch this!” he wailed
“That’s okay, that’s okay!” Matt patted his hair comfortingly with one hand and reached for the remote with the other. “It’s gone! We can watch something else.”
Mello nodded shakily and wiped his eyes.
“You wanna choose what we put on?”
“… Yeah. Yeah, give me the remote.”
He took a deep, grounding breath, and told himself to pull it together (although the thought of child Matt facing injustice was still heavy on his mind), and started to flick through Netflix’s options.
“I got so much food, man. I knew you were too fucked to choose, so I just kinda got it all.”
Mello glanced across at the bags Matt was rifling through and scrunched up his nose.
“You know I don’t eat McDonald's.”
“Mello, you’re high. Of course you’ll eat McDonalds. Here, chocolate milkshake.”
Mello looked at it sceptically… but then relented. A chocolate milkshake did sound pretty damn good. Of course Matt, the Master of Skunk, knew exactly what kind of munchie food he’d want. That genius.
“You wanna watch Rick and Morty?” Matt asked, nodding towards the TV. “That’s fun when you’re stoned.”
He’d seen it before, but right now the art style looked freakishly sinister, so he shook his head. “No way.”
“Okay… Hey, what about Happy Gilmore?”
Now he hadn’t seen that one, but competitive sports made him angry, so he shook his head again.
“No.”
“Click?”
“No.”
“Anything Adam Sandler?”
Mello shuddered. “Too scary.”
“Fair enough… South Park?”
He did like South Park… but thought of those squeaky voices-
“No!”
“Simpsons?”
“Why are you suggesting such scary things!?”
“I’m not; you’re just all greened out. At this point I’m just gonna put Sesame Street on.”
“No!” Mello said quickly. “I hate puppets!”
“Yeah, of course you do.” Matt rolled his eyes and offered Mello a cold, limp fry. “Eat something; it’ll distract you from whatever the fuck it is you’ve got going on right now.”
He let Matt feed him one, and then begrudgingly accepted another fry, and another, and another, and then he was stuffing his face with cold, slimy chips. Even stoned, he could tell they tasted like shit, but holy fuck he was suddenly starving, and the feeling of food in his mouth was ecstasy.
It was so good that once he’d finished, he stuck his finger in the package in search of salt granules or tiny crumbs so that the experience didn't have to end.
Matt saw this and wordlessly handed him a whole new portion of fries (he wasn’t kidding when he said he’d bought everything!) and a tiny, angry voice in the back of Mello’s head told him he was going to be really upset in the morning, but he vanquished it with a mouthful of cold potato.
“I’m gonna put something Studio Ghibli on, that cool?”
Mello nodded, rooting around in one of the bags to see what else Matt had bought. “Yeah, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything.”
He decided on Ponyo and pulled Mello against his side as they settled back to watch.
Mello ate for a while, but his stomach ached in protest long before the food ran out, so he pushed it away and focused on the movie instead.
The movie, and the sound of Matt breathing. And the smell of his worn hoodie. And the rumble of his chest when he laughed or sighed.
Matt’s arms were perfectly heavy around him, like a protective cocoon, and Mello knew that even if the high worsened, he’d be okay. He was completely safe in Matt’s arms.
His eyes were getting droopy, lulled by the rise and fall of Matt’s chest, and he could just about feel himself teetering on the edge of sleep and then-
“Hey, Mells?” Matt whispered
“Hmm?”
Matt laced his fingers through Mello’s hair and pulled it to the side so he could whisper in his ear.
“I’m really sorry I drugged you at work.”
His breath was hot and tickly against Mello’s neck, making him giggle tiredly, and try to squirm away.
“s’okay….”
“Oops- sorry! I am, though, like, I’m super sorry but… I’m having fun now. I really love you.”
Mello smiled. “Yeah, yeah… love you too.”
He was so exhausted he could hardly open his eyes; his body just wanted to shut down, but he forced himself to wake up for just a second so he could peek up at Matt’s face.
Matt was staring down at him, his own eyes starting to look a little red as the gummies kicked in, and Mello had just enough time to acknowledge the fact that he did forgive Matt for (accidentally) drugging him before sleep took over, and he fell fast asleep in his boyfriend's arms.
It had been a long fucking day at work, after all.