It Matters

"Where RU??!!" Mello's text message had managed to convey a sense of urgency that Matt hoped wasn't really warranted. He held his breath, telling himself that it was just the blond wanting everything done yesterday and all conclusions reached before the evidence was even available, not anything too dire, like Mello blowing up the building he was standing in again. The redhead had given his location and received an "Oh ^.^" in response. He exhaled. Expecting to now be engaged in a whole conversation via text, he had switched off his DS and slipped it back into his pocket. Nothing else came.

Ten minutes later, the door opened and Matt automatically looked up. There were, he decided, fewer sights more surreal than Mihael Keehl walking into a laundrette. The washing machines span and vibrated creating a sense of the utterly mundane and insidiously tedious. The blond stared at them like he didn't quite understand the concept and had no intention of becoming acquainted. He strode on past the two old ladies, the large man with body odour issues and the young mother without appearing to acknowledge their presense. His progress was only halted by Chardonay, the two year old child whose name was known by the frequency with which the mother had screamed it during the past twenty minutes. Toddler and genius Mafioso surveyed each other in a battle of wills, because whichever way Mello stepped the child was underfoot. Matt watched curiously to see who would win, but Mello cheated by glaring at the mother until Chardonay was yanked in her direction and the blond was free to charge on forward.

Mello sank onto the bench beside Matt and stared at their clothes twisting and turning in the window of the machine opposite. "What are you doing?"

Matt frowned. "I'm relaxing on a desert island sipping margaritas." He emitted a half-laugh. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"But you're supposed to be back at the flat working on those access codes. I did tell you that they were important. I did specify that I needed them to be your priority. I don't think you quite grasp how serious this is."

"They're done."

Mello scowled, hunching up his shoulders in chagrin. "I couldn't see them."

"Then you obviously didn't look. They are on the pad, next to your laptop. They are also on a notepad document on your server." Matt replied, evenly. "I think you've made a friend." He nodded and Mello turned to see. Chardonay was back, halfway between her mother and Mello, staring at the scar on his face. She appeared to be taking the irregularity in template adult faces in her stride.

"Right." Mello ignored her. "How long does this," he indicated the laundry, "take to do? Because I've got a list as long as your arm for things you need to do for me."

Matt nodded sagely, "Great. I'm quite happy to go home while you finish off here." He grinned, imagining Mello unloading the washing machine.

"I've got things to do too." The blond replied, testily, but he took out a chocolate bar and started munching on it. He hardly appeared ready to sprint out and do those things. "You'd better not have any of my dry-clean only clothes in there."

Matt rolled his eyes. "I can read, Mello."

Mello didn't reply. He was looking down, in the opposite direction, at the toddler who was now only a foot away, one hand reaching up towards him. It was different to determine whether she was wanting to touch his hair, be picked up or claim the chocolate. He blinked and flashed her a quick smile, before frowning at the mother. The woman was flicking through a magazine, pausing at a photo-spread of an elaborate celebrity wedding. The child's dummy bobbed in her mouth as she finally spoke, "Mine!"

Matt snorted, "The chocolate."

Mello gave a non-committal noise and glanced at the mother again. He growled, "Your child is in my face."

The mother sneered back, "She's not hurting anything, is she?" She pointedly turned the page in her magazine. "She's ok to have some chocolate, if that's what you're saying."

Matt bent forward, his elbows on his knee, his hands covering his face. Even cringing under the various anticipated reactions, he still couldn't resist peering up to see as the snap of chocolate being broken off sounded right beside him. Incredibly, Mello was actually giving the toddler a couple of squares. Her dummy landed on the floor in a splash of dribble, while the gift replaced it messily in her mouth. Mello slid along the bench until he was inches away from the mother. "The chocolate that she is eating is laced with marijuana resin. High grade Colombian." He smirked. "It relaxes me and stops me getting into more trouble while I'm on my parole for paedophila."

She glared at him with utter contempt. "Ok, you've made your point. Freak." She raised her voice, "Chardonay, come to Mummy."

The toddler ignored her and Mello remained staring. "You don't believe me." He commented wryly.

"Your chocolate is still in the wrapper, Einstein, and if you'd melted it down, it wouldn't have the brand name on each little square, would it?" Her whole demeanour dripped scorn. "And the last paedophile to turn up on this estate had his house burned down with him locked in it, so don't..." Her eyes widened suddenly, focussing on his burn scars. Yet she apparently rationalised past this, back to her original conclusion. "No-one in their right minds would broadcast the fact they mess with kids around here. My Wazza would take you out like this." She snapped her fingers in his face. "So don't come here trying it on, arsehole."

Behind them, Matt called, "No, that's hot. No touch. Noooo. Bad."

"How amusing." Mello smiled, his gaze manic, chocolate hanging from between his teeth. "My friend having to watch out for your child, because Mummy is too busy reading about Posh and Becks. I wonder what Social Services would have to say about that."

"Chardonay!" There was a touch of hysteria in her tone now. She shoved the pushchair away, dashing off the bench to collect her errant child. "You're a fucking freak!" She screamed back at Mello, hoisting the toddler onto her hip. "Don't you dare!" She floundered in her fury. "Just don't you even dare trying to tell me I'm not a good mother. I am a good mother! You dare threaten me with that? You're just evil!" She glared back as Mello smirked. "I'm telling you now that if you went back and told your own mother what you just said to me, she'd fucking disown you."

Mello's gaze darkened and his smile slipped. "My Mama's past caring what I do, thank you very much." He hissed, but nontheless slid back along the bench back to Matt's side. There was random muttering further up the line, but gradually the fuss died down. Everyone returning to their abject boredom now that the entertainment was over.

Matt turned to look at his lover, a faint smile playing on his lips. "And this is why I do the laundry."

"Is it nearly done yet?"

"About five more minutes." He fished his cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket. "You safe to watch it, while I nip out for a cigarette?" He glanced at the mother and child, now sitting on the opposite side of the large man.

"Just go, Matt." Mello replied, primly, taking out his phone. "I have calls to make anyway."

Matt blinked, knowing the kind of conversations that Mello usually engaged in on that phone. "In here?" The look that Mello gave him was enough to make him just leave without pursuing the matter.

Quarter of an hour later, they were leaving. Their laundry packed into two big bags, one flung over Matt's shoulder and the other dangling from Mello's hand. As they passed, the mother couldn't resist snapping out, "Arsehole."

"Slut." Mello replied and let the door close behind them.

Matt smirked as they began walking back towards the flats. "There's a secret harpy inside you, isn't there, Mello?" He lit another cigarette. "I mean, in a different life, a different incarnation, you could quite happily be a complete fishwife."

"No Matt, this one is your fault, actually." Mello sucked on a square of chocolate. "You were raised as a nice, middle-class boy and yet you chose to come and live with these people."

"You class snob."

Mello blinked. "It's not about class! It's about education."

"So your criteria for worthy people to hang around with hinges upon having an education which matches yours?" Matt shook his head. "No wonder I'm the only friend you've got." He paused outside the fish and chips shop, the scent drifting out to tantalise his tastebuds. "Reckon you can manage not to argue with any more young women, if I nipped to get some chips?" Mello just looked at him, so Matt joined the queue.

The rest of the journey home passed without incident, but for Matt's occasional chuckles and Mello's sharp glances. They entered the flat and dumped the bags of laundry on the floor, before sharing out the chips. Predictably, Mello declared them 'not as nice as they smell', then complained about feeling greasy having them near him. Matt had foreseen it, so had only bought one packet. He ate Mello's share with the inevitable possession of it being his to start with, while the blond made himself a ham and salad sandwich. Eventually, Matt lit his post-meal cigarette and called out, "So, what jobs did you have for me to do?"

Mello reappeared in the kitchen doorway, his sandwich in his hand. He flashed a gaze that stripped the clothes from his lover's body and smiled expectantly. "I thought we'd go through your whole repetoire. Hand jobs, blow jobs, squirming underneath me while I tie you down and fuck your arse off jobs..."

"You fetched me from the laundrette just to have sex with me?"

"No." Mello frowned. "I fetched you from the laundrette because you weren't in the flat where you should be. You might think this is love, but it's possession. I begrudge sharing you even with the woman who sells your cigarettes..."

"That's a man, actually."

"Well, he'd better be old and ugly." Mello turned to survey the kitchen behind him. "I don't know where I'm going to put it, but I'm buying you a washing machine and I'll bring your cigarettes from now on. I know a man who brings them into the club." He turned back and smiled at Matt's incredulous expression. Tidily, Mello finished eating his sandwich and swopped hands to lick at his chocolate instead. "Now, in the immortal words of the Libertines, 'It's been a long war...', so come on, Matty, there's work to do."

Mello marched away into their bedroom and Matt stared. All options considered, there was none but to follow. So Matt did so, a little smile on his face, which faded once he saw what Mello had in store for him. But his eyes twinkled, as his gaze rose to wantonly survey the blond, and he closed the door behind him.