Truth or Dare
It had begun innocently enough. Or not so innocently if one were to take into consideration the large quantities of hard liquor and even harder drugs that fueled their little of game that night.
Truth or Dare.
Truth or dare, a simple child's game, the rage of sleepovers and other gatherings, now perverted in the hands of two intoxicated geniuses. It began with the ordinary questions of 'first crush' and 'have you ever cheated on an exam' and quickly escalated into an orgy of information that under sober conditions the two extremely private young men would never dream of divulging, regardless of their status as close friends.
A few shots of Tequila later, the sharing shifted to illegal activities and sexual exploits. Nothing was sacred, not Mello's exploits in the sleazy underworld, not Matt's activities in the cyber world and past and possible future hacks, not those subjects that were beaten into then as children as taboo- Real names, identifying person information.
Mello had learned that a certain brunette's real name was Mail Jeevas, born February 1st, 1990, and that he had became an orphan due to domestic violence that resulted in the murder suicide of his father and mother. He learned that, since no family stepped in to take in the six-year-old, he had been quietly shuttled into the horror that is the American foster system. Two years later, when his intellect was noticed, he was placed in the care of a special orphanage for young geniuses. Although he was the very definition of the word 'nerd' and a computer/video game geek, he had managed to lose "It" at the age of sixteen... to a working girl. Not so shocking, however, was his confession that, before his journey out of the lonely, geek-influenced world of adult sexual experience, he wanked to animated porn... which he also let slip that he was an avid collector of to this day.
At some point during his rambling, he related a story that involved the sexual aid commonly known as a blow up doll, and how it had met a very messy and undignified end, the details of which he'd thankfully spared him. 'Purely experimental reasons' was his hurried excuse, which Mello didn't know if he believed.
Mello, in turn, shared his own personal information. Mihael Keehl, born December 13th, 1989, orphaned at the tender age of five after his crack whore mother was strangled by a rather violent client in front of him- it seems she took her son with her to work. Matt shuddered at the knowledge. It explained his best friend's highly unstable psyche.
Mello quickly changed the topic by admitting to the murder of no less then ten individuals- all, he assured his friend, criminals that deserved what they got. This was less than shocking. The real surprise would have been a confession to having never pulled the trigger even once.
The real bombshell for the night came when the blond so-called sex god confided that he was in fact a virgin when it came to sexual intercourse. It seemed that his experimenting went no further then manual and oral pleasure. Both giving and receiving.
"Pussy or cock?"
A crudely phrased question, but then again Matt was a crude, nineteen-year-old young man... one who wanted to know the answer to the question that had been bothering him for years. He had just enough liquor in him that night to grow the balls to ask it.
Blood-shot baby blue eyes tried to focus on him. "What?"
Deep inhale and a casual exhale. "I was asking if you had a preference, you dumb fucker."
"Preference?"
"Yeah. Dick or pussy? You can't chicken shit out now, so just answer the fucking question."
The look of embarrassment and shock that settled on Mello's normally stoic features would have been comical if Matt hadn't found the hesitation in replying extremely aggravating. Mello took a long swig from the bottle, his eyes never leaving Matt's. Mello slammed it down, startling Matt with the loud thud of the bottle connecting with the wooden table. Shifting uncomfortably under the other's now pained gaze, he lit another cigarette.
"Bastard. You actually need to ask that?"
"If I knew the answer I wouldn't have to ask. Fucking genius, you are."
"So what you really want to know is if... if I'm gay."
Matt had expected anger, not the quiet voice. Matt shrugged as if bored by the exchange. "Or maybe I just wanna know if you're bisexual. Answer the question, cocksucker."
The sound of the chair being pushed harshly back against the scratched linoleum was the only warning Matt had before the table was pushed into his abdomen. A grunt of pain escaped him as he quickly shot to his feet, waiting for the next move from the fiery-tempered blond.
"What the hell, Mello?"
"Yeah, what the hell." He staggered drunkenly towards him, ripping the goggles off roughly, not caring if the strap was caught in hair. "What the hell does it matter what my sexuality is?" he spat, discarding the goggles behind him. "But yeah, if you really must know, yes I love cock," Mello seethed, smiling sardonically. "The thought of pussy has never appealed to me. I prefer my dick stroked and sucked by a male. The taste and texture of a man is what turns me on, and it makes me cum a whole lot harder then the thought of some skanky woman with her legs wrapped around me!"
Pushing Matt to the ground, he stormed off, flipping him the bird over his shoulder as he stumbled into the door frame. "Are you fucking happy? Asshole."
From his place on the ash- and garbage- covered floor, Matt rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, "That went well."
