Title: Loser
Rating: R
Summary: They were still very much little kids and, really, little kids shouldn't have sex for this reason exactly.
A/N: Well… all the B x L stuff I find seems really depressing so I decided to do something… light-hearted?
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L was never a shy person and was the stronger of the two, despite B's rabid bloodlust. This is why he was always on top.
B was a forceful person and prideful, despite how he degraded himself daily with his makeup and constant trying to be something he wasn't. This is why he was always on top.
But really, how foolish both of them were.
When L's indifference to B didn't get in the way and when B's hate for L subsided and the obsessive love he had for him calmed down just a little bit, they met in an agreeable middle and, there, passion could take place.
… Passion?
Really?
No, not really.
The nibbling - almost biting but L would never allow much of that - and the licks and groans that echoed off of the walls of the dingy motel rooms rented weren't passionate. That's what L told himself when he was panting in the afterglow, rolling over to the wall and waiting for B to leave before he could dress himself. B would lay sprawled out all over the bed, arms and limbs trying to touch L - but that bastard could squeeze himself into the tiniest of corners - just to annoy him.
They'd lay there trying to outlast each other. B would usually win but that was all right because L was on top, always. Most times. Sometimes. Okay, hardly ever.
But L found triumph elsewhere.
Sort of.
When he lay beneath B and writhed and cried out like a hot poker was inside of him, he would try damn hard not to give in to the soft coos B would purr into his ear. He would ignore with great effort how B did everything in his power to please him and was soft and considerate - except when he was mad, then it was a different story - with his strokes. He closed his eyes against B's ruby red jewels staring at him like he was the core of his existence.
Because L is so childish and hates to lose, he would abstain from coming for as long as possible. Really, such a child.
Like, ha ha, you came first-
But he didn't and L would arch his back and turn his head into the pillow, letting go of what he held in. B's stomach would get sticky and then L's insides would get sticky - a chain reaction that L wished to change.
They were still very much little kids and, really, little kids shouldn't have sex for this reason exactly, L thought as he stared at the wall like a stubborn child. He felt B's fingers on his back, moving in a delicate rhythm. Poke, poke, poke.
He would not give in. He would not move, not even if B insisted on poking him all night.
Thirty-five minutes later, as L hurriedly threw his clothes on and went for the door, he mumbled, "Backup."
B mumbled, "Loser."
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A/N: XD ... uh, any thoughts?
