January 6th 2011

Shit just got real.

That was all that Matt could think, as he stared at the screen. Shit just got seriously real.

As far as Matt was concerned, the world wide web was too small to have both Mello and Force10 in it. As long as they stayed in different parts of it and never met, then nothing too bad could ever happen. There had been that close call once, in Tokyo, when Mello had run off with Matt's laptop. The EHC inner sanctum had been live on the screen. But Mello had apparently only spoken with CrashnBurn and Firebomb. Plus there had been bigger things happening all around them. Like Kira's forces closing in and the whole city immobilised due to a co-ordinated hacker attack.

Now this.

It had all meant to be a bit of fun. A conversation, in the EHC, had highlighted the fact that none of them had Twitter accounts. Matt had had one, but it was only for gaming and that had been deleted back in New York along with a dozen other examples of frivolous internet presense. While hundreds of wannabe hackers cloistered around the firewalled gates of the EHC inner sanctum, nearly half of its members played visibility chicken. Chessman gave it five minutes. H4x0r6 was more generous with an hour. Matt, Bubbles, CrashnBurn and now Force10 had been Tweeting for the best part of a month with no apparent stalking from the EHC script kiddies. It was hilarious.

Was. Hilarious.

Mello had just made a Twitter account. Mello had just Tweeted. '@RealMariomatt Finally got one of these damned things. Why the hell are you on such a public site anyway?' About five things whizzed through Matt's mind simultaneously, without stopping to get themselves prioritised first. Why was Mello on Twitter? Because he was a possessive bastard, who had to know precisely what Matt was doing on-line and this was an easy one to keep tabs upon. Or because he genuinely wanted to share in a piece of his husband's life, which was usually out of bounds. Matt experienced that thought like a seismic shudder, that passed down from his shoulders to his stomach and dissipated somewhere around his balls. It was pathetic and it felt a bit like love. Or lust. Or excitement. Or 'Mello just fucking have me up the wall right now'. It was hard to tell. But it fuelled Matt's responding Tweet, '@MOverMario OMFG! YOU'RE HERE!' and, just so that he could prompt some of that pride in Mello too, he added the tags, '#WhereisKira? #Mello'. It might tip the others off anyway.

Clever name that, Matt thought. It could stand for 'move over, Mario', as in 'I'm here now'. Or it could be a status report, 'M over Mario', like Mello owns Mariomatt. Which was true. Or 'Mover Mario', with its image of Supermario dancing, Mello subtly telling Matt that he was reaching out to share in his husband's interests. Twitter. Mario.

But they were on here discussing Gundam painted pink! And Sesame Street needing a hacker puppet. And fucking floor-cleaning robots! In front of a man whose IQ was surely knocking the 200s. It was embarrassing. It was the kind of banal crap that Matt could just picture Mello rolling his eyes at. Of course, Matt couldn't see anything of the sort, because Mello was doing this from across the passageway in his own study. Matt glanced up at the camera, monitoring Mello there. In reality, the Slav was scrolling through old Tweets and chuckling, with his chocolate clutched in one hand. A coffee steamed from beside his keyboard. Another screen displayed a coloured bar-chart, while a third showed a wall of Polish text. Mello didn't appear to look up, but he did blow a kiss at the camera, before typing another Tweet.

Matt was already staring in horror at the EHC Twitter membership list. He had to add Mello. Had to do that. Hell, Mello was already exchanging Tweets with Bubbles, for fuck's sake! Matt typed quickly that he didn't approve of Mello and Bubbles being in contact. They would so discuss him and he didn't trust either of them with the information. But that membership list. Fuck! Shit! Mello and Force10 in contact! That should never happen. That was dangerous. That was the world's biggest troll paired with fucking Mello! Kira capturing, ex-Mafioso versus Force10. It got worse the more that you looked at it. They would be lucky if it did merely end in tears.

Matt added Mello. He then flipped tabs over to the EHC forum. He PMed Force10 with a curt, to the point message, 'Just added MOverMario to Twitter. Don't fuck with him, man. Just trust me here.' Matt had never tried anything like that with Force10 before. He was normally egging him on. He hoped that the unusual nature of the tip would serve without too many questions asked. Force10 could not be as stupid as he made out. He wouldn't be able to function, if he was. He'd sit there, dribbling in a corner, going 'gah'. Matt had seen Force10's hacker CV. The kid was a genius. Had to be.

Mello was giggling. There was no other word for it. That was not a masculine sound coming across the landing. Matt smiled, despite himself, and Tweeted what he could hear. Mello responded, on the forum, that Matt loved him. He was definitely staking his claim here, as Matt's partner. It both touched and alarmed Matt, both at the same time. And was Mello flirting with Bubbles?! Bubbles had to be about sixty! She was Matt's cyber mother. He'd decided that when he was fourteen and never quite got round to telling her. Now she was cooing over Mello. That shit was fucked up.

But there was also CrashnBurn here. Matt's cyber father. CrashnBurn who had listened to Matt over the years, little snippets here, drunken rants there. Matt didn't think he'd told him too much, but occasionally there were half-asked questions; like CrashnBurn wasn't going to push it too much, but wanted Matt to know that it was ok to talk. Man to man. While all Matt really wanted to do was impress the crap out of CrashnBurn, because the man was, like, God, and more of an idol to Matt than L had ever been. Probably the best hacker in the world; possibly the only person left who had anything to teach him, give or take Bubbles. This being, of course, the same CrashnBurn who'd seen Mello, literally crazy, firing a bullet right down the eye of the webcam at him.

Mello and Force10.

Mello and CrashnBurn.

Matt lit a cigarette and typed '@MOverMario Coming onto Twitter = selling your soul to Satan. Just so you know.' He watched Mello, through the monitor, frown, bite into his chocolate, then laugh. The Slav replied, '@RealMariomatt You can't deter me that easily.' Matt bit his lip and left his chair. He walked through into Mello's study. His husband looked up and smirked, sitting with his legs apart, and a sassy look in his eyes. Matt could have fucked him there and then. Instead he just stood there, right inside the doorway, and said, "Yeah?"

"What the fuck is this, Mail?" Mello laughed, pointing with his chocolate bar at the screen. "It's a bit public, isn't it?"

"I have a pseudonym on there." Matt shrugged.

Mello grinned, "Is that 'real' as in the English or 'real' Spanish?"

"Play on words?" Matt suggested, wishing that his non-de-plume had been as well conceived as Mello's. "Before you meet any of the others," he paused, contemplating his words, "Bubbles is ok. She's fun. But Force10 can be..." He winced. "Can you just bear in mind that he saved our lives in Tokyo? Him and Crash and the others."

"Oh?" Mello surveyed him carefully. "Baby, you want me off this, just say the word."

Like Matt could do that. He shook his head, reaching in to rekindle that initial spark of warmth. This was Mello coming into his world. That was nice. It meant something. Probably. "No, stay." He walked across and planted a kiss onto Mello's lips. The Slav slid a hand down Matt's back, resting for a moment on his backside, while he licked Matt's lips. "Mell, we're being deliberately shallow on here."

"I can do shallow." Mello smirked.

Matt stared at him for a moment. "Yeah, right." He called back over his shoulder, as he retreated, "Force10 saved our lives once." He stopped in the doorway. "And the cardinal rule of the internet is 'don't feed the trolls'."

"He'll attempt to troll me?" Mello snorted. "Life saved - Tokyo. Starvation diet - internet. Check."

Matt wrinkled up his nose, then took a long drag on his cigarette. What could he say? The EHC was one of Matt's greatest achievements and Force10 was part of that. He might push the lulz too far sometimes, but, frankly, most of the recipients deserved it. Besides the kid had once hacked the World Bank! There was an FBI file on him thick enough to batter someone to death, yet they'd never quite pinned him down to an actual person. Matt had initially believed Force10 to be the name of a collective. It had turned out to be one person. One annoyingly 4chan-esque person. Who was, admittedly, hilarious to watch in action. But not with Mello.

"Mail, why are you still in my doorway worrying about insignificant shit?" Mello asked absently, while smiling at whatever Bubbles was Tweeting.

"I'm gone." Matt waved and returned to his own study. He vaguely heard Mello's, 'awwww', behind him and wasn't sure if that was in response to himself or something on the screen. Matt sat at his computer bank and PMed CrashnBurn. 'My husband is on Twitter. I'd be grateful if you'd put aside anything that might be past and welcome him.' He read it silently back to himself. It seemed too formal. Crash would have the red flags up at that. Matt deleted it and wrote instead, 'Yay! My husband is in our Twitter group now! ' He sent that. He checked the Tweets. Mello and Bubbles were really getting along well. But of course they were. They were both very sociable people. Force10 wasn't on-line.

"Mail." Mello called.

"What?" Matt yelled back.

There was a scuffle, then a movement. Mello jogged in. "Alright?"

"Yeah." Matt frowned, as if the idea that he might not be was ridiculous. He caught Mello still staring at him, so plastered a smile across his features. Everyone was warned now; and contact with Bubbles had been made. No good stemming the river once the dam had broken. Matt fell back upon the positive. This was Mello, in Matt's world. It was exciting, in its way. His grin grew, becoming more genuine. "You're being Tweeted. Watch Bubbles. Choatic Neutral."

Mello raised his eyebrows. "Most hackers are." Then he frowned, disdain filling his tone, "Tweeted."

"You're going to have to learn the lingo, if you're going to come into the wild web."

"Heh."

"Who's saving the world, while you're on Twitter?"

Mello gave a half-shrug. "I'm waiting on an e-mail." The thought carried him back across the landing. He called over his shoulder, "And I am. I multi-task."

"I give you an hour before you're pissed off with it."

Mello came back. "Is that a challenge?"

Matt rolled his eyes, "If you're taking it as a challenge, then I give you two hours before you're bored. With the latter hour learning how to hate it enough not to want the challenge."

"I'll come off it, if you don't want me there."

Matt paused, then rose from his seat. He kissed Mello square on the lips and then smiled at him, "I want you there."

Mello looked pleased. "Good." He stole a kiss of his own and winked, "Because I'm there. Meeting your friends."

"Yeah." Matt replied, hoping that all of his warnings held. "Should be good."