This ^ Guy

Mello closes the van door harder than he’d intended to. He takes a deep breath and centers himself after the door thunks shut. He glances at Matt. The gun is heavy in his pocket. Should he use it yet or wait to see what happens? His adrenaline rush starts to drop and Mello shivers. And wrinkles his nose - ugh nice, it’s cold and smells of old takeout and cigarettes in here.

He skims through Matt’s thoughts, searching for any hint of violent intent. There’s none of course, just like there hasn’t been the entire week Mello’s tailed him. He knows the sad fuck next to him is harmless. He almost wishes he wasn’t. It makes Mello feel sick but he wants an excuse to use his powers. Needs to let loose. Not yet. No need to go escalating things and reveal his trump card. Anyway, Mello thinks with a twist in his gut, there’s time enough for that down the line.

“Eh, just whatever. You choose. Don’t make it lame.”

“Can’t make promises since I currently dunno what’s considered lame,” he replies, shooting an accusatory glance to her direction before grinning.

Couple of swipes on his phone later the surround system in his van comes to life with house music. Couple of more swipes and the bass has come down from the level where you can feel your heart rate matching the beat. Matt’s grin turns more apologetic.

Matt’s comment brings Mello's attention crashing back to his sore feet. He’d forgotten about his newly acquired blisters for a while there. He needs to buy trainers or something else new that isn’t going to goddamn hurt this much. His plans don’t involve running but shit happens. He needs to be better prepared. Mello pushes past the need to unzip his boots and rub away the biting itchiness there.

“Mh thanks.” He replies absently. Mello takes a moment to properly take stock of the van. The stale smells either aren’t as bad as he first thought or he’s already growing accustomed to them. He really hopes it’s the former. The interior is smaller than he’d envisioned, with barely any amenities. Just a cramped bed and stove and some storage space. It’s manageable though. No one’s going to be suspecting this small a vehicle, so he’ll deal with the drawbacks as they come. Speaking of drawbacks. Mello looks down at his escape ticket. He takes another swig of beer. Might as well harvest all the info he can while the guy is still chatty.

Matt gives an exaggerated sigh and an eyeroll before finally replying.

“Fucking Hell, Mello. Near is not stupid, I can’t not say anything. I’m tryina do you a favour for god’s sake, can you for fucking once work with me here.” His voice gets increasingly strained by the end of his comment and Matt takes a deep breath, tries to calm down.

They’re not friends. Not anymore. Still, for some reason, Matt keeps on forgetting about it until Mello drags him back to reality. Matt takes the phone out of his pocket, places it in the cup holder between them, almost like a threat.

And out of spite Matt swirls the steering wheel faster than he needs to when taking his next turn, makes sure Mello is not getting any comfort he doesn’t deserve. The silence stretches between them until Matt opens his mouth again.

“The feeling’s mutual,” he mutters back quietly.

Near should really pull him out this goddamn case.

cocoaslayer

Matt’s voice is a low buzz under the wind rushing in his ears. Mello closes his eyes. If it’s important Matt will tell him later. His face is turning numb but it’s worth it to feel his stomach settle a bit.

Then there’s the screech of tires and Mello is thrown forward. His chin bangs on the edge of the window. He scowls and pulls his head back inside.

“What the fucking hell, asshole?” He almost shouts.

Mello rubs his smarting face. What the fuck was that for? Is this seriously about Near? He hadn’t taken Matt for that much of an ass kissing boss’s pet.

“Tell him whatever. You’re smart enough to keep it simple.”

He snatches Matt’s phone from the holder and pockets it.

“You expecting I did that on purpose,” he lies, nonchalant, but takes the next turn more calmly.

It’s not that he doesn’t have other ways of contacting Near. However, anything else than a text and Near would already be suspicious. Matt glances at Mello through the mirror and immediately regrets his decision.

Mello is a damn mess, the blood from his nose smeared all over his face and the clothes dirty from the fight. Matt clings onto the anger that’s been keeping his adrenaline levels high - he can’t afford to start worrying about Mello.

“If I were you I wouldn’t be makin’ any threats. You’re injured and I’m the one behind the fuckin’ wheel. Keep your goddamn head down, Mello.” And Matt hates how it comes out almost like a plea but Mello’s smarter than this and fuck if Matt is ever going to want to hear about the bastard getting his stupid ass killed.  

The traffic is getting awful which is a sign of them approaching the borough. Matt runs his hand through his hair and sighs.

He pillows his head on his arm, folded onto the windowsill edge. The wind ruffles his hair, all cool and soothing.

“S all fine.” He says into his sleeve.

----------------------------------------------

Tires screech in the near distance. It isn’t followed by the familiar wail of a police siren or three. That will probably be Mello then. Louise groans and puts down her freshly brewed coffee. From his text she thought she’d have another fifteen minutes. So much for her caffeine prep.

Me: okay… what’s the plot..?

Artist: puropoly

Gift for: porfoct

Prompt: Near and Mello have a Fun Day At The Mall (maybe)

You’re so smart.

I admire your determination.