Alphabet Meme - Z - Death Note - Matt x Mello
Title: Zombies
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Words: 397
Series: Death Note
Pairings/Characters: Matt x Mello
“No, man, it’s just like Resident Evil!”
“It’s just like-what the fuck, this isn’t some fucking video game!”
“No, no, no! Trust me! I can do this! This looks like that one scene in 28 Days Later when-”
“For fuck’s sake, Matt, we are going to fucking die if you don’t-holy shit GIVE ME THE GUN.”
Shoved to the ground and having his shotgun snatched right from his hands, Matt stared up at his best friend as he cocked the gun and fired once, twice, thrice, and whatever came after that. The screeching of the walking dead haunted Matt’s ears in ways only a seasoned shotgun Wiimote user could fathom. He adjusted his goggles, splattered with blood, and pushed them atop his forehead.
Mello cursed and threw the gun down at Matt, whipping out a pistol from the crotch area of his pants. His intense hazel eyes had never moved from their focus on the approaching zombies. From the sound of things, Matt found it safe to assume that the blonde was kicking serious ass.
It was a great time to lie down, close his eyes, and nap for a while.
---------
During the first few weeks, Mello would be angry with Matt for napping during his one-man shootouts. Nowadays, it was normal, and the only punishment was a rough awakening and an hour of the cold shoulder. They never stayed in one place for too long. Mello was like a shark, he had to keep moving or else he’d die. And in this world, that may have been the reality. Matt didn’t want to risk the boundaries between the metaphorical and the literal, so he followed Mello wherever his worn leather boots took them. It was a wonder he was able to go so long in those heels.
“Hey. When are we getting more water?”
“Next town.”
“Right…think they’ll have smokes?”
“Not if I blow them to hell, first. I need your lungs.”
Matt sighed. The painful weeks of nicotine withdrawals had passed, but it was always a forlorn fantasy to light up, sit back, and watch the smoke as it left his nostrils. He missed nothing more than those cigarettes. “Just my lungs?”
“Just your lungs.”
“You sure about that? I mean, if you had to lug my lungs around, wouldn’t that only, I don’t know, attract zombies?”
“Matt.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Just wondering.”
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Words: 397
Series: Death Note
Pairings/Characters: Matt x Mello
“No, man, it’s just like Resident Evil!”
“It’s just like-what the fuck, this isn’t some fucking video game!”
“No, no, no! Trust me! I can do this! This looks like that one scene in 28 Days Later when-”
“For fuck’s sake, Matt, we are going to fucking die if you don’t-holy shit GIVE ME THE GUN.”
Shoved to the ground and having his shotgun snatched right from his hands, Matt stared up at his best friend as he cocked the gun and fired once, twice, thrice, and whatever came after that. The screeching of the walking dead haunted Matt’s ears in ways only a seasoned shotgun Wiimote user could fathom. He adjusted his goggles, splattered with blood, and pushed them atop his forehead.
Mello cursed and threw the gun down at Matt, whipping out a pistol from the crotch area of his pants. His intense hazel eyes had never moved from their focus on the approaching zombies. From the sound of things, Matt found it safe to assume that the blonde was kicking serious ass.
It was a great time to lie down, close his eyes, and nap for a while.
---------
During the first few weeks, Mello would be angry with Matt for napping during his one-man shootouts. Nowadays, it was normal, and the only punishment was a rough awakening and an hour of the cold shoulder. They never stayed in one place for too long. Mello was like a shark, he had to keep moving or else he’d die. And in this world, that may have been the reality. Matt didn’t want to risk the boundaries between the metaphorical and the literal, so he followed Mello wherever his worn leather boots took them. It was a wonder he was able to go so long in those heels.
“Hey. When are we getting more water?”
“Next town.”
“Right…think they’ll have smokes?”
“Not if I blow them to hell, first. I need your lungs.”
Matt sighed. The painful weeks of nicotine withdrawals had passed, but it was always a forlorn fantasy to light up, sit back, and watch the smoke as it left his nostrils. He missed nothing more than those cigarettes. “Just my lungs?”
“Just your lungs.”
“You sure about that? I mean, if you had to lug my lungs around, wouldn’t that only, I don’t know, attract zombies?”
“Matt.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Just wondering.”