Title: Corrupt
Summary: B went to the bathroom and came back with clean hands. And a bottle of lube. . .
Style: weird. . . O.o as in, this is the way it wrote itself. Almost in a specific type of pattern.
Rating: M
Pairings: Beyond BirthdayxL
Archive Findings: Death Note, complete, angst, Beyond Birthday, L,
Warnings: graphic yaoi
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note
A/N: Based off the Vorrupt music video by TouchMyMafia. They need a smex warning label thing. Seriously *dies*
When L closed his eyes, he was in bed, at home, alone Black silk sheets were pulled all the way up to his chin. It was absolutely silent, besides his quiet breathing. He fell asleep.
***
When L woke up, the sound of a jar opening was heard, along with obscene slurping. He opened his eyes to see an exact copy of himself with red eyes. He was not alone.
***
Five minutes of threats, twisted conversation, and fighting later, L found himself pinned face down by sticky, raspberry-smelling hands. The bed squeaked.
***
When L felt B's warm breath and mouth on his ear, he couldn't help but shudder. He wasn't sure if it was in pleasure or fear. One thing for sure, was that B noticed it.
***
One sticky hand held his wrists above his head, the other pulled his shirt up, and then suddenly, he was flipped over, shirt gone. B licked up his neck to meet his eyes. He gasped at the red orbs glazed over with lust.
***
He didn't move from his spot when B demanded that he didn't. B went to the bathroom and came back with clean hands. And a bottle of lube.
***
B took his time, running his hands all over L. He took note of how skinny the man was. He also took note of the hidden muscle that could easily flip him over, but didn't.
***
B then realized that his previous assumption was wrong, as he was suddenly on his stomach, faceful of pillow. He gave a low moan when he heard a dark seductive laugh. This was definitely an unpredictable side of L. Not that he was complaining.
***
L thoroughly enjoyed the whines, whimpers, and pleasured moans that issued from B's mouth. He did not expect the following flip in which he found himself on his knees in front of his copy. He didn't expect the finger running down his back, either.
***
There was no kissing. No kissing at all. No Frenching, no butterflies, no eskimoes. That is, not until L felt a tongue follow the fingers and lave its way into the ring of tight muscle. Then again, that's not really a kiss, is it?
***
B positively purred at the embarrassed reactions L gave: moaning wantonly, then biting his lip; his back arching, and then hiding his face in the crook of his bent elbow; reaching a hand down to stroke his erection, and gripping the sheets instead. B didn't quite meow when L finally pushed back against his tongue. Instead, L did.
***
B likened L to a cat, mewling and arching and clawing and so very affectionate to his master. Said master rewarded his kitty with more sweeps of the tongue, and a hand cupping his balls.
***
L dropped onto the bed, nt really flat, with his head spinning and a rainbow of colors flashing behind his eyes. He didn't hear the dark chuckle or see the way B's eyes glittered, or feel anything other than that all-too-talented hand. Blindness and deafness weren't too bad, he decided, when B finally was kneeling behind him.
***
B decided he would buy a collar for his new kitty, because when he slid his length into L, the man purred and meowed and yeowled and pushed himself up to be back-to-chest with arching and giving B the most delightful glimpse of wanton face. L was embarrassed that B would see how much he wanted him, embarrassed that he couldn't hide his reactions at all, which made him feel helpless. However, he didn't do anything about it.
***
There was an appreciation in B's eyes while he looked L up and down. He could sense the embarrassment, but it only made him want his now-nicknamed Kitty more. The first thrust was the same as telling L immediately.
***
L moaned and gasped and continued his cat-like behavior as B pushed slowly and deeply. B enjoyed the way the pale man clung to him, unable to think straight in the least, much less stay upright. So B helped by leaning him down on all fours.
***
L could barely keep himself even at that, opting to drop on his elbows and bury his face in the pillow. He felt B chuckle, bend over, and lift his head up to whisper in his ear. "Nu-hu, Lawli-pop-" he emphasized the pop-" I want to hear you scream."
***
B appreciated the new enthusiasm in L, who cried out loudly at each thrust and (again) pushed himself up, back-to-chest with B. And B appreciated seeing L's face on his shoulder, buried in his neck, though it didn't hide his dewey eyes or red face or swollen lips or plainly, his very wanton expression. Yes, B appreciated it very much.
***
L made good on B's want to hear his voice. Profanities of every language, pleas, moans, whimpers, shrieks, groans, whines: everything left his mouth, and B only pushed harder, deeper, and faster. L only got louder.
***
Though L was lost to the world, B could see and feel everything. He could feel release climbing faster and faster onto both of them, and he made sure L knew, too. Of course, there was one last thing he wanted to try: L found himself on top, riding B's cock like a cowboy.
***
L was cumming mere seconds later, barely able to hold himself up, much less keep riding. B grabbed his hips and forced him with full knowledge of overstimulation, and watched it register on L's face. His eyes rolled back, his torso pitched forward, and B was quite happy to see his lover let go completely.
***
L felt every last bit of pleasure, his body jerking and twisting, voice hoarse from screaming, cock and ass sore from cumming, and suddenly he was falling. The world around him was dark and calm. When he came back, B was still forcing him down, still watching his limbs jerk and his muscles twitch.
***
B made certain of his decision before flipping them back over, thrusting full force into L. If L didn't know any better, he would think that B was trying to make him cum again. Then again, L actually didn't know better.
***
It seemed as if B really didn't give a damn that L hurt so good everywhere that he was reduced to quiet whimpers and holding on for dear life as his dick was coaxed quickly back to hardness. All he could feel was ripping pleasure, all he could see was white, and all he could smell was blood, sugar, and sex. And then it happened all over again.
***
B let go himself this time, fighting to keep his eyes open against the tightness around his cock, the black trying to invade his vision. He watched L pass out the second his seed spurt on to both their chests, while his own splashed inside L. He pulled out to lay down and make himself comfortable: L wasn't waking up for a long time.
A/N: El Fin, yay ^.^