White Chocolate

It was nothing more than a computer with an aesthetic, yet ominous L centered on its screen, and somehow, that simple letter had shattered our world with more reality than our young minds cared for.

Roger closed the laptop and switched off the power button. The children seemed too dazed to move and a few of the younger ones were crying. General consternation dominated the room and the silence seemed to weigh on our legs, suffocating our resolve to rise from our curled positions on the carpet.

SNAP!

Every eye (except Near's; he seemed engrossed with a blank puzzle) turned to Mello, who remained perched by the window, completely unruffled. His eyes were closed and his face contorted into the most devilish smile, contrasting dramatically with his soft angel's hair. His fingers slowly undressed the chocolate bar in his grip, tearing the silver covering as indelicately as they could. A pink tongue wrapped around the topmost edges and dragged slowly, leaving saliva trails. How I'd love to trade my SNES Donkey Kong Country cartridge to be that bar of chocolate, to know how Mello's tongue would feel brushing against my… I snapped my knees together and hugged them close to my chest, desperate to conceal the sudden pressure that was building just below my zipper.

Mello snapped another chunk violently and let his eyes open slowly. They immediately darted in my direction and my heart seemed to beat painfully fast, until I realized that he wasn't looking at me, but directly passed me. I rotated my body a little to catch a glimpse of what had Mello so transfixed. Near sat, holding one leg to his cheek, a finger curled around his paper-white hair. The most intoxicating smile Near had ever expressed was playing at his lips, and his eyes shone defiantly, strikingly, unnaturally against the his paper-doll skin and his snow-white pajamas. The smile was so unnatural because it wasn't one that was inherently Near's and the intensity left me gasping. It was beyond creepy because…once they locked eyes, Mello and Near seemed to mirror each other.

Linda couldn't seem to take the silence anymore, "So…that was the great L."

Oh that did it. That was the second time this morning she'd distracted me from my focus on Mello. Mr. Teddy, I'm soooo coming for you later.

When minutes passed and no one answered her, she simply shrunk into her frame and even Roger remained oddly quiet. But I wasn't really paying attention to either Roger or Linda. My brain refused to stray too much from the unchartered space between the towhead to my left and the golden mane to my right.

Mello and Near were far from best friends, and no one was closer to Mello than I, but there was an undeniable…intimacy in the way they seemed to read each other that made me feel…not jealous, but…

Screw it. Yeah. I'm jealous. I admit it. Go suck a dick, see if I care.

Near blinked. Mello snarled.

What in Luigi's Mansion was I smoking? Mello and Near? Roger would be the next L before that'd happen. I was being irrational again.

Yet, they really were scary with the whole mimic thing. Without so much as a glance to the floor, Near slipped the final piece of his puzzle into place, in exact rhythmic unison to Mello swallowing the final piece of his chocolate bar. I swear if telepathy existed outside of comic books, then Near and Mello had mastered the fuck out of it. Hell, Yoda would squirm under the death grips in those eyes.

But that's what their eyes spelled: death…malice…competition. Nothing more, nothing less. I really wanted a cigarette right there and then.

I blinked when a knock at the door beckoned Roger from his gargoyle stance. He opened it to an old man whose wrinkled face I recognized from the portrait that adorned the main sitting room. Wammy himself, the man who owned this house, the man who set his entire fortune and estate on the welfare of every child and teen in this room, quietly slipped a piece of paper in Roger's hand and walked right out again. Wow. That had been impressive. NOT! I chuckled soundlessly though, because I seemed chained to the other children in our inexplicable vow of silence.

Roger smoothed the paper out, read it, and set us on our way, "L has ordered that classes be canceled for the rest of the day," some of the younger kids brightened at this," and you will all employ your time in the recreation of your choice. However, any child caught studying today will…will be reprimanded. Understood? No locking yourselves in your bedrooms or the library. Today, is to enjoy yourselves."

A few people snickered at that last comment, which was obviously directed at Mello, and like that the silence was broken. We may still have been dazed a bit, but the prospect of a free day, in the middle of the week, was too good not to take full advantage of. Kids got up. Some laughed off the meeting, others were still avoiding meeting another's gaze.

Mello was at my side before I realized that I…couldn't quite stand just yet. I hadn't completely recovered from watching him molest that chocolate bar. When I didn't automatically follow him through the door, he threw his hands on the striped fabric of my shirt, roughly yanking me from the ground. My body immediately strained into an erect position. Unfortunately, I lost my footing and slipped sideways, clutching the nearest body to avoid kissing the floor. My face landed against a soft chest and I dug my nails into the person's shoulders to help straighten myself. I was fully staring at her face before I realized where my nose had only seconds ago been pushing against her…Damn. Fuuuuuuuuck. Holy Midna on a sandwich!

"What the hell Matt?" sneered her perfect rose-bud lips. Vy's long black hair framed her pale skin like bat-wings, sharp, and deadly like her brown eyes…She grabbed the hem of my collar and shoved me into Mello's arms.

Ah…Mello's arms. Safety. I turned my eyes to her, ready to apologize, until my eyes lingered over her soft, taut breasts...the softest scoops of vanilla peaking ever so slightly out from the robin's blue of her blouse.

Crap. Shit. Mouth, where are you?

Link, save me….my brain…does not compute. Does not. Does not.

"Uh…" I closed my fluttering eyelids, "*****************!"*** (please read note at bottom)***

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Mello, leash your little bitch would you? He sounds rabid."

"Matty, you're speaking in geek mode again." Mello was having a hard time concealing the amusement in his voice.

"Charmander! Char!" Translation: I want. Nicotine. NOW…

Mello had released me at that point and was clutching his ribs laughing.

Vy shot us a disgusted look and headed out the doorway, "You guys are freaks. Keep your hands to yourself next time, asshole."

Mello was still laughing when we'd gotten into the hallway. I know I was grinning stupidly, but it just felt nice to watch how his whole body ripple with laughter.

"I'm glad you're so nervous around girls, Matt. It makes for great entertainment."

"Shut up Mello-drama," I socked him lightly on the shoulder. He hated being called 'Mello-drama.' I immediately regretted it when he tackled my tummy. I'm highly ticklish; it's my third greatest weakness, and Mello never loses a chance to use it against me.

"No..haha..Uh….ah…ahhaha…Uncle! Uncle!"

When we were once again in the safety of our shared room, Mello began rummaging through the desk drawer on his side. I pulled my DS off of its charger and slid it into my pocket. I was at the window with a cigarette dangling from my lips, looking out towards that crooked tree. I had concocted an elaborate plan to hold Linda's teddy bear hostage, when Mello slammed his drawer violently against the wall. I looked up to see his fingers curl into balled fists. Ah, he was out again.

"Let's go raid the cupboards."

"You know how we're not allowed in the kitchen, Mello. You might take a butcher knife under the pretense that Near needs a new haircut."

A wrapper hit me mercilessly on the head. Then a textbook flew by me, barely missing my ear, and made a pathetic thud after skimming the edge of the window. I couldn't dodge the pillow he threw at me but at least it was soft.

"Screw the rules, I need chocolate." He growled.

My eyes narrowed, Mello without chocolate was dangerous, but he was kind of cute the way he pouted when he was mad. I threw the pillow back, "You abuse me and then expect me to follow you around at your every whim. What am I? Your dog?"

Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Images of myself with a collar around my neck, Mello pulling at the leash, started flashing in my imagination. Agh! This wasn't the time to start questioning whether or not I had a bondage fetish.

Not that I really expected him to play along if I did though.

He cocked his head to one side, and looked at me curiously, and scrunched his brow in mock concentration. "Well, dogs are supposed to be man's 'best friend.' You're my best friend, and you do kind of follow me everywhere like a puppy. And you're so loyal to me." He was only inches from me now, "I could ask Roger to install a doggie door on our room."

"You have some nerve, jackass," I turned away. I wasn't really mad, but it was fun to milk it sometimes.

Mello must really have been desperate for some cocoa-goodness though or he wouldn't have offered to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the day in exchange for indulging him.

We sneaked our way to the kitchen, careful to avoid Roger. We were supposed to be, ahem, employing our time to the recreation of our choice, but I doubted our method of securing snacks was high on Roger's list of acceptable pass-times. To make conversation, I ventured to ask Mello about "meeting L."

When I thought back to this morning and our encounter with L…disappointment wasn't sufficient to describe how crestfallen nearly all the students had been. Personally, I thought the whole scrambled voice through a laptop was pretty lame, I mean, if it was me, I'd push for that whole Darth Vader heaving breathing gig…

Mello, on the other hand, seemed reluctant to speak about it. He just kept grinning like the Cheshire Cat. For once, he had trouble articulating his feelings.

"I've finally found someone…worthy of my respect, Matt." The gravity of Mello's words weren't lost on me. To Mello, admitting that he respected L, was a whole new level of worship, because it meant that "L" was not simply a goal, a place hold, a quantifiable standard of achievement…It made L…human and flawed. It shifted Mello's goal from the impossible: wanting to be L. No…Mello didn't want to be L. He wanted to be equal to L, and perhaps surpass him. That was the difference.

I was picking the lock to the kitchen and Mello was rapping impatiently on the floor with his foot. I laughed internally when I realized he was still barefoot. CLICK. I withdrew my makeshift piano wire lock pick from the frail lock and we pushed open the double doors. Neither of us expected the room to be less than empty…

A rather pale teenager was hunched over the white marble kitchen counter. He looked tall, but his posture was so crooked at the shoulders that his body seemed to be rejecting a few inches of height. He didn't even glance up from the strawberry shortcake that was disappearing with every forkful to his mouth. Mello and I stood there, speechless, while the jean-clad stranger ate and turned to face us with the blankest stare I've ever been held under. His eyes were deep, enigmatic pools of nothingness, bent on swallowing me and every thought that had ever consumed me. He might have looked menacing, but the heavy bags of his panda eyes seemed to bring the slightest human element to his otherwise deathly pale skin. Against the jet cobalt of his hair his face was too pale, and yet, there was a kind of confidence that resonated from his being...

The cake having been devoured, he analyzed us curiously. He didn't have to say a word. We didn't have to say a word. It was just so deeply understood that the young man before us was L. How could it have been otherwise? I wanted to shout at Mello who was next to me, to look at him, and see his reaction, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from…away from L.

He simply walked up to us, and pressed a finger to his lip, not that any of us had made a single noise even in breathing, and walked right past us and out into the hallway. We didn't follow him. We didn't speak. We simply…existed.

I wasn't even aware when Mello recalled the reason for coming to the kitchen's in the first place, but I was amused by the amount of chocolate he stuffed into his jeans pocket. How he fit them all was a damn mystery…

I remember looking at Mello, trying to read his reaction in his eyes, but the moment I looked at him he simply shook his head. L had silently asked us to ignore his presence, and Mello was going to keep to that even if he died from trying suppress his own loquaciousness.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventful. As promised, Mello did exactly as I wanted, and seemed all too happy to comply with my plan to decapitate Linda's bear.

When I crawled into bed that night, slipping my goggles onto the desk at the foot of my bed, I let myself smile at the thought of Linda's horrified face when she discovers what Mello and I did. I let my mind linger on the disappointment of our computer meeting with L…and then the near holy grail of actually seeing him. Well there was no way to be 100% sure it was L, but we had no students of his appearance nor did we take strangers into our institution. It was the logical conclusion that Mello and I did not bring to conversation.

I was…happy as I let my eyelids droop of their own accord. I wasn't going to be able to play my DS underneath the covers tonight…the screen was already making me sleepy. I turned to see Mello already sleeping, his breathe in a regular rhythm across the room. So I'm your dog, am I?....My eyes couldn't stay open much longer…

.............///////////............

I was vaguely aware that my arms and feet were bound to some hard surface, yet I was in a standing position…In front of me was a statue.

Even though the distance rendered its features obscure, I knew that the statue was Mello. It was life-sized, and built entirely out of chocolate. Not only was I staring at a giant edible Mello, but the statue was adorned in a leather. Gloves, vest, pants, all of it like a wrapper on the delectable statue of my sex god.

I turned to my right when I felt a hot pant of breath against my neck. It was the real Mello. He looked at me and traced edge of my face with one of his long fingers. Then he slipped the goggles off my head and placed them on the statue of himself. His hands began to roam the statue, and his tongue vigorously wrapped around Chocolate Mello's cheeks.

His fingers began to disrobe the statue, teasing the garments off. It was simply erotic to watch him lick at the nipples, agonizingly slow, moaning and shivering. When his hands found their way to the leather ties on the statues pants, he grabbed at the pulls with this teeth before pulling the dark fabric to the floor. Mello leaned in and put his mouth around the erect member of his chocolate doppelganger…

I'm not sure how hard I must have been shaking, but my arms ripped the cords that bound me. My wrists stung from rope burn, but I managed to untie my feet and trust myself in Mello's direction. He had removed all his clothes during my struggle, and was hiding behind the statue head drooped over the shoulder, legs wrapped, sexily around the torso, and the soft pink touches of blush on his cheeks. I touched my fingers against his cheek, wanting to savor the blush…and he slipped that tongue between my fingers, the friction sending shockwaves to my brain…and then he was all over me. Or as much as our chocolate barrier would allow….

.............../////////..................

I sat up, panting, trying to savor the feeling of Mello's tongue swirling around my belly button…
And I headed to the bathroom, slipping one hand into my boxers and opening the door with the other.