Empty Eternity Chap 8 -MxM-

Mello returned to Nate's room, and the white haired boy looked at him a bit oddly.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. Then, he looked around. "Where is the other? The red haired boy?"
Mello huffed. "He's gone, and won't be coming back."
"Was he a bad man?"
Mello looked at Near sorrowfully. "No. He was the greatest, bravest, kindest man I've ever known."
Near cocked his head, even more confused than before (if that was possible). He returned to the food on his plate, and toyed absently with the Jell-O. He pushed it around the plate, and started humming softly. Soon, words joined the simple little tune.
"Jell-O Mello… Mello Jell-O Mello… my little Mello Jell-O…"
Mello started at the sound of his name. He hadn't told Near his name.
Maybe it was a coincidence, that he had chosen that rhyme for Jell-O.
Maybe not.
--
Matt was in a bar.
He was drunk.
He was depressed.
He was heartbroken.
Not a good combo.
He stood, staggering slightly, and payed the bartender. Then, he lurched out the door, pausing to catch his breath at the door. He wandered into the street; the sun had gone down. He felt abandoned and devastated, his thoughts turned to mush by the alcohol. He stumbled on the curb, and out into traffic, not bothering to wait for the light to change.
"Hey! Damn drunk!!" yelled a driver, honking and swerving.
Matt payed the man no attention, just kept walking.
Staring out into the darkness, he felt tears overflowing his eyes. The world seemed so much darker. Mello had rejected him. He just couldn't deal with it.
No… he corrected himself, I couldn't deal with life without Mello. So I must apologize.
But how?
He knew where Mello lived… so… he would go there.
Perhaps it was the drunken part of his brain that was telling him that taking the highway was the best route. It was definitely the drunken part of his brain that made him walk directly through traffic, the only reason being somewhere along the line of 'the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.'
It was undoubtedly the alcohol talking when he came to Mello's house. It was big. Really big. So big, in fact, that Matt second guessed himself. Perhaps he should just leave Mello be. Who couldn't be happy in a big house like that? He thought back, though the images were blurred, to his dingy apartment in America.
He went up to the door and banged on it loudly. Mello's bike sat in the driveway, proving that the blond was home. He hammered harder until splinters stuck from his hands.
No answer. With a soft growl, Matt turned away. He did not give up, though. Disgruntled, he instead turned to Mello's bike, a new, alcohol-induced idea forming in his head.
It was a simple matter to hotwire the bike. Matt revved the engine, though he tottered unsteadily on the motorcycle. Then, he opened the throttle and the bike shot forward under him at full speed.
If you have never seen a motorcycle- or any other vehicle –strike a wooden front door, this may be hard to picture. Picture… an explosion of splintering wood, with the roar of the bike filling the air. Add the squeals as the metal bike was scratched and sheered, and you might get an idea of what an absolutely disastrous thing this was.
Then, to add to the mayhem, Mello's security alarm went off, splitting the air with its shrill shrieks.
Matt, miraculously, made it through the doorway with only a few scratches and bruises. The door, however, was not so lucky. Neither, for that matter, was Mello's custom made motorcycle.
Mello came rushing down the stairs, gun raised. As soon as he saw who it was, however, he dropped the gun. It clattered down the stairs as the blonde ran down, coming to a stop and wrapping Matt in a tight hug.
"Matt!" Mello cried. "Oh, Matt, you are such an idiot! You smell like alcohol! What are you doing, crashing through my front door?! What were you thinking?! You weren't thinking… not at all, not at all!"
Matt twitched irritably. He had something he needed to say, but Mello wouldn't shut up. It did, however, feel good to be in the blonde's arms. He spotted Near coming down the stairs at a slower pace.
"Matt!!" Mello was still crying. Then, he started to sob. "Matt, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!! I should choose Near over you, I shouldn't!! please, Matt…!! Please forgive me!"
Matt blinked. "Mels…" he murmured in a slurred voice, burying his head in the blonde's jacket. "Mels… I came here to apologize to you!"
Mello stiffened. "Really?"
"Yes…" Matt, the alcohol finally took over, and he swooned, resisting the urge to throw up.
"Oh Matt!!" Mello chastised, "You look like you're going to be sick!! Come on, let's get you to bed, now!"
Matt smiled a lazy smile. "Bed, Mels…?"
Mello barely refrained from slapping his drunk boyfriend. "Not that way!" he snapped, heaving Matt to his feet.
"Can I help?"
Both boys glanced up to see Nate River standing on the stairway. Mello smiled softly.
"Yes, Nate, that would be wonderful," he said softly. "Could you get the room next to yours ready?"
"Sure!" Nate said, seeming eager to help. He bounded up the stairs.
Matt glanced at Mello. Even his fogged brain realized the significance of this.
Near was changing, just like Mello wanted. He was becoming a new person.
For the first time, Matt thought that it might work.