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Human lives are relatively simple. You're born, you live, you die, and that's about it. But when it comes to immortal lives, things get a little more complicated. You can never actually be sure if you were truly born, because it's been so long since you came into existence that you really don't remember. You don't die, and can it really be considered living if it just doesn't end? Sure, you're alive, but sometimes you get so painfully bored that you wish you weren't.
You could say that's the case for Matt at the moment. Though, he's not painfully bored. Just in horrific pain.
“Son of a bitch!” Matt jerks as Mello tightens the bandages around his midsection, sucking in air through his grit teeth. “Think you could be a little less aggressive- fuck!” He groans in pain when Mello pulls them tighter in retaliation.
“Sorry, what was that?” The blonde asks, feigning innocence. “You said you want them tighter?”
“No!” Matt yelps, “Alright, I'm sorry, jeez.”
Mello hums and loosens his grip, allowing his previous wrap to slacken slightly. “That's what I thought. Just remember that you did this to yourself.”
“How was I supposed to know they'd shoot? They're the police, they're not supposed to do that!” Matt complains with a huff, tapping his fingers against the couch cushion he sits on.
“Like they care.” Mello snickers, half amused and half irritated at the thought.
“Fair point, but still.” Matt rolls his eyes. “Didn't even do anything…” He mumbles, sounding a bit like a whining child. Mello laughs and finishes wrapping the bandages around his torso, cutting off the end and pinning it down.
“Guess we're gonna have to get you a new identity now. Again.” Mello moves from his place behind Matt and places the roll on bandages on the table, throwing Matt's shirt into his lap.
Matt sighs as he pulls it over his head, wincing slightly as he does. “Man, I liked being Mail Jeevas. He had cool goggles.” He mourns, leaning back and tapping at said (now cracked) goggles.
“Well, maybe your next one can have even cooler goggles.” Mello leans back with him, resting his head on his shoulder. “And if it makes you feel any better, I need a new one too.” He grumbles, crossing his arms.
“Wait, what?” Matt turns his head to look at his boyfriend, a smile growing on his face. “I missed something, clearly! Why didn't you tell me you ‘died’?” He makes air quotes with his hands on the last word, raising an eyebrow.
“Because technically speaking, I didn't. I ran off before any part of the fire could touch me. But of course, no one will know that. For all the world knows, Mihael is no more. I was getting kinda bored anyways. And I feel like it'd be a little strange if I immediately moved on from my dead boyfriend and started dating someone entirely different, y'know?”
“What, so you were so torn up about my ‘death’ that you ‘killed’ yourself? Aw, Mells!” Matt coos, bringing his clasped hands to his cheek with a tilt of his head. “That's so Romeo and Juliet of you! How sweet!”
“Shut up, dingus. And if anything, it's Demolition Lovers of me. Why reference some lame, old, dead guy when you can reference My Chemical Romance?” The blonde scoffs, crossing one leg over the other.
“Right, right. You're emo.”
“Don't call me that.”
“Hey, not my fault that being more in love with Gerard Way than your literal boyfriend and wearing black lipstick and eyeliner and leather pants and- ough! Holy shit!-” Matt gets cut off by a certain bony elbow being jabbed into his stomach. He wheezes, wrapping his arms around himself. “You should play netball. That fucking hurt.”
“No shit, you're full of bullet holes.” Mello rolls his eyes. “And I did! Don't you remember? I was great!”
“You're bullshitting me!” Matt laughs, shaking his head. “There is no way you did netball!”
“I so did! Back in the 80s, I think.” He pauses, putting a finger to his chin as he searches through his memories of the decade. “I'm pretty sure it was in New Zealand. Or maybe Australia? No, definitely New Zealand. I played a whole season just for the hell of it! Don't you remember? I used to drag you to my games at 8 o’clock in the morning!”
“Oh, right. That.” Matt shudders at the memories of standing on the sidelines, coffee in hand, watching his boyfriend get pretty physical for a sport that was meant to be non-contact. “Does it really count as playing if you were getting taken off every other minute? Pretty sure there wasn't meant to be blood anywhere on that court. Especially not coming from other players.”
“Not my fault they didn’t stand up for themselves! They could’ve shoved just as much as I did and they chose not to!”
“Maybe that’s because they didn’t wanna get called out by the umpires for getting violent?”
“Well…” Mello pauses, glancing off to the side for a moment before shaking his head. “Shut up, Matt. You’re stupid.”
“Thanks.” Matt smiles sweetly at Mello, causing the other to scoff. He still opens his arms anyway, allowing Matt to fall against his side and rest his head on his shoulder.
They stay like that for a while, Matt simply enjoying the moment, curled up at Mello’s side, and Mello staring off into space, already thinking about who they’ll be, where they’ll go and what they’ll do in their ‘next life’. They probably won’t sort everything out immediately, which is fine. They have all the time in the world, really, so long as they get out of their apartment before anyone comes by after hearing about their respective deaths, so it doesn’t really matter. They’ll probably just lay low for a while until something interesting happens in the world and they decide to insert themselves into whatever’s going on. That’s what they did with the Kira case, after all.
Whatever they do, one thing’s for certain: no matter what happens, no matter the identity, they’ll stay together. Forever. And that’s a promise they can actually keep.