Want it. Take it. Love it. Keep it.

A/N:
Lemon. Kinda graphic. VERY FLUFFY.
Ye be warned.

*****

CHAPTER 9
"FRANKLY, MY DEAR, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN"


L somehow managed to carry the boy to his bed, noting how each step caused his zipper to dig painfully into his erection. He lamented not having put his boxers on this morning, which may have made the situation somewhat more comfortable. He also wondered how he was possibly containing his excitement with the blond pressed tight against him, nibbling at his collar bones. He also wondered how the teen was managing, considering his own lack of experience and age. There was still enough blood left in his brain for him to question what he was about to do. Though he wanted it very very much, if they went through with this, there was no turning back. If it really was as wrong as they both sometimes feared, then this could be a grand mistake. He set the boy down, untangling their limbs and stepping back.

Mello lay back, resting his head on a mass of pillows and blankets. His eyes closed, and lips parted, hand immediately sliding beneath the waistband of his jeans. L thought that this action alone might undo him right then, as he watched the boy begin to pleasure himself. One knee bent, and his toes curled, moaning L's name. It occured to the detective that this was slightly unfair, considering that he was currently doing nothing but /watching/.

"Mello intends to ruin my plans."

If he took no action, L realized that they'd both be coming to orgasm quickly. He moved onto the bed, taking hold of Mello's wrist. The blond's eyes opened, half lidded and unfocused. His back was arching slightly, reminding L of the images he'd been viewing earlier. There were so many things he could do with his hands and mouth to elicit that response, if his research had been accurate. He wanted to try them all. Explore every inch of Mello's lithe form, taste the pale skin to see if he was as sweet as all the chocolate he consumed.

"We have the rest of the evening. There's no need to rush." Self restraint was not one of the detective's virtues, so when the blond sat up, pulling at the older man's loose jeans, he could not bring himself to stop him. The clothing slid off his own thin, pale hips, leaving him naked from the waist down. Mello's eyes widened. They had been sleeping in the same bed, had seen eachother mostly naked more than once, but never when they both knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that something very important and definately life changing was going to happen. L kicked his jeans to the side so as not to become entangled in them later, while he let the blond pull his long sleeved shirt over his head. "This is highly unfair," L complained.

"I can fix that." The blond smirked, yanking his own shirt over his head. L was fascinated again at the sight, watching the boy's chest rise and fall with the quick breaths he was taking. Mello moved his hand down his own chest, to his stomach, watching L's eyes follow the movements. He shivered when his fingers reached the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down slowly.

"Mello is teasing. It is not fair."

In all honesty, he really hadn't meant to tease, it just felt good but, that's when it occured to Mello that L wanted him. He /really/ wanted him and he was completely in control of the other man's pleasure. He knew that L would never force him to do anything he didn't want to so, Mello was calling the shots. All he had to do was say 'no' and that was that. The knowledge suddenly made him feel very...powerful. Powerful and /special/. Two things he'd never felt before in his life.

L lay down beside him, covered Mello's hand with his own, moving it aside to finish the task himself. Now that they were both naked, it seemed to the detective like this was his last chance. A lesser man might have reasoned that it was already too late, refusing to turn back out of selfishness. But L cared deeply about Mello. He loved him, he'd never felt anything like this before, and he did not want him to feel pressured now, or regretful later. From what he'd learned, losing one's virginity was an incredibly important milestone in every young person's life. Something never to be taken lightly. L propped himself up on one elbow so he could see Mello's face more clearly. He held the boy's hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the tips of each finger.

"We do not have to continue if you really don't want to. I will not love you any less if you ask me to stop."

Mello sighed in frustration, a flair of his former, angrier self manifesting for a moment. The older man seemed determined to ruin the mood. "You wouldn't have gotten this far if I didn't want it. I don't do anything if I'm not getting something out of it."

"I do not doubt that, yet...you have always seemed eager to please where I am concerned."

"I'm a whore for attention, always will be."

Attempting to retrieve the mood, Mello crawled to L, his cat-like grin making him look slightly insane. He climbed in L's lap, pushing at his shoulders in an attempt to get the detective to lie back on the bed, but the detective was stronger, and grabbed the blond's upper arms, applying enough pressure to freeze Mello in his place.

"You are never to use that word to describe yourself again. I will not allow myself to be used in order to fuel your insecurities," he said, his smooth baritone taking on a much harsher tone than Mello was used to.

"It's just a fucking expression," he grumbled but L was not convinced.

"Not to Mello. He still thinks very little of himself, despite my best efforts to prove him wrong."

L released his grip, holding stern eye contact with the younger boy. In that moment, he decided that Mello's psyche was far more damaged than he ever had realized. Whatever, /whoever/ had done it, he was going to undo it. Then maybe he would find them and bring them to justice. It was his duty, for L /was/ justice, and Mello was L's.

He made the boy lay down, adding extra pillows behind his head. Mello shut his eyes, attempting again to touch himself. L was not so easily distracted this time, however. He felt the need to worship his blond angel, make him feel higher than the god he prayed to.

"No." There was such authority in that one word that Mello froze again, holding his breath, wondering if L was angry, and what he might do. If he would /hurt/ him. Then came the sudden sensation of something warmer and wetter than his hand, surrounding his now frustratingly painful erection. It made his eyelids snap open, his jaw drop. It felt so much better than he could have imagined. He knew what the fuss was all about now. This was better than chocolate. Chocolate was no longer even on the menu.

Mello was chewing on his own fingers, attempting to stifle his loud gasps and moans. The room was suddenly so very hot, his own body felt like it might burst into flames, igniting at his hips and burning them both. There was a strange tingling sensation low in his belly and felt as if all the nerves in his extremities were being drawn up into his center. His fingers and toes were numb, eyes open but unseeing but he could feel L's stormy gray blue eyes tilting up to watch his reactions. His hips moved up towards L's mouth on their own accord, desperate for more of that incredible sensation but the detective used one hand to gently push them back into the bed, the spidery finger's grip causing his legs to open and fall back.

L wondered if he might lose himself right there, from visual stimulation alone, watching the blond's reactions to his touch. Mello chewed his fingers, tugged at his own hair, hips still pushing up against L's hand, little moans and gasps escaping from his slightly parted lips. L hoped the walls were thick here, not for fear of being found out, but because these reactions were meant for his ears alone. They were caused by his hands, his mouth, and therefore belonged to him. This moment was not meant to be shared with anyone other than his beautiful lover.

Mello was so lost in the sensation that he almost didn't think to warn the older man of the orgasm that he knew was creeping up on him. He was barely forming coherent thought, not certain that he'd be able to form sentences (or if he'd ever be able to again), not sure what words to say even if he could. "L. I..." The older man was still grasping his hip, holding him down. He deseperately wanted to move up into the sensation when he came, suddenly, the orgasm hitting him like a brick to the chest, seeming to knock him right out of his own skin and into a place where sound and thought and time didn't exist. Only one thing was for certain: Masturbation was nothing compared to whatever the hell had just happened.

L sat back after a moment, surprised that Mello did not taste like sweets, and that he really didn't mind. The boy was still catching his breath, eyes shut tight, mumbling things like 'god' (not capitalized), and 'fuck' and other things that were mostly either unrecognizable or didn't make sense. Finally, the blond stared up at him, blue eyes clear and focused, looking him up and down. One yellow eyebrow arched in question, the ability to do so a recessive gene, L noted. Another fun fact to relate to his love.

"You're still hard." The blond stated, attempting to sit up with some difficulty, being slightly dizzy still as the blood had not yet been given enough time to return to his brain. "Let me help."

"I intended tonight to be about you. For once, I refuse to be selfish."

"L. I /want/ to help," Mello told him. For a brief moment, his insecurities about his lack of experience came creeping back. What if he didn't please L? Would he still love him? But he forced them to the back of his mind. That was ridiculous. L knew just as much about this as he did, it was a learning experience for both of them. Besides, it was /L/. He was a lot of things - selfish, blunt, stubborn, sometimes arrogant and egotistical - but shallow was not on of them.

L stared down at the boy. Well. Who was he to argue with that? And he was fairly sure his body would never forgive him should he do so.

Mello's body was already recovering, deciding on it's own that they were indeed not finished, as he watched L walk across the room, digging through his desk drawers. Mello noted that the detective was shaped very much like himself, very thin, though taller and paler. He also decided that L had a rather nice ass. His back and shoulders looked equally attractive, lean muscle developed throughout. He practiced several styles of martial arts, which was probably what to credit his lovely shape to.

L returned with a plastic bottle, setting it at the foot of the bed. "I want to remind you that you can still stop this at any time. I promise not to get angry." He took several moments to wrap his arms around his lover, brushing back strands of sweat drenched hair, kissing his forhead, cheeks, lips, and neck. "I have never done this before. I understand that it can be somewhat...painful at first. Though quite pleasurable. Even more so than oral sex." Mello found that hard to believe, but trusted that L knew /everything/.

The teen had a vague idea of what was going on, having done some 'research' on his own, and heard stories. Theirs was not the first homosexual relationship at Wammy's House. Still, he was nervous, to say the least, when L reached for the bottle of lube, squeezing a generous amount into his hand. At first he used the lubricant to stroke his lover's already hard dick back to it's previous state. Mello squirmed under the touch, impatient, wanting to share his pleasure, to satisfy L. Finally, L stopped to reach for a pillow, slipping it under the boy's hips. It was an odd position, leaving him feeling somehow even more exposed.

L retreated again, spilling more lube into his hand, coating his fingers. Those hands had come to fascinate Mello, though he had not realized why until now, when he thought of what they could be used for.

"L," Mello whined. "Hurry up."

"I believe that I've already explained that without proper consideration, this could be quite uncomfortable. You will survive the wait."

"Liar," the blond accused. Though his complaints were soon silenced when L came to lay between his legs, holding himself above the boy with one arm. He bent to lick and bite a nipple, knowing the effect it had on the boy, whose back arched. L continued his attentions, distracting the boy as he slipped his hand between his thighs. He bit down on the sensitive flesh he had been concentrating on as he slipped a single digit into his lover. He'd read that men would often bite down on a woman's earlobe when taking their virginity to distract them from the pain (not that he considered Mello to be a female. He doubted he'd be attracted to him if he was...). He supposed this would do just as well.

The blond's back arched off the bed, hips pushing up into L's, causing them both to shiver. He wasn't sure where the pleasure or pain was coming from, the sensations were mingling together. His muscles tensed at the intrusion, until the single thin digit bent upwards, finding the spot it was searching for.

"Stop?" L questioned.

"No, no. God, no." This sensation was entirely different than it had been when L's mouth had brought him to orgasm the first time. His muscles relaxed, and he felt himself pushing his hips down in an effort to get more pressure on that /spot/. "W- what the hell is-" his words were cut off when a second finger joined the first, still pressing on that spot. He couldn't help but think that for a virgin, L sure as hell knew what he was doing.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Feels. Too. Good." Mello whimpered, though confused by his own words. The fingers slid back out and he whimpered again, this time for the loss of sensation, until they were pushed back in, once again hitting what L would later explain was his prostate. And there was that 'too good' feeling again. So good it almost hurt but instead of telling L to stop, he never wanted it to end...Mello had never been a believer in the 'less is more' philosophy.

When his lover finally added a third finger, the pleasure crossed slightly into pain. L was trying desperately to take this as slow as possible, being as tender and gentle as he could. He hated that he had to cause any pain at all, even combined with the sensations that felt 'too good'. He made a note to experiment himself, so he could better sympathize, as well as see what all the fuss was about.

"L, please." The boy's face was slick with sweat, plastering his bangs to his forhead. "I'll come again if you don't..."

"If I don't what?" L wanted him to ask for it, to be sure he really wanted this (not to mention it was a pretty big boost for his ego...). Though the wait was near killing him.

"Please, fuck me." Though Mello's crass words came as no surprise to L, he didn't like them. The phrase made this sound so cheap. Even a bit degrading.

"I will never, ever do that to you." L murmered close to his ear, stopping his movements, but still keeping steady pressure on Mello's prostate. Almost as if to punish him.

"Damn it, L!" Mello growled in frustration. "Make. Love. To. Me. Now." Each word was punctuated by deep intakes of breath. The older man slowly pulled his fingers back out of the boy, reaching behind him for more lube. His hand coated his own ignored erection, which threatened to take care of it's problem with that small touch. Crawling between Mello's legs, he bent both of Mello's knees, pushing them up toward his chest, having read that this might make the next part easier on him. He guided one hand underneath boys back, lifting his hips further up. His own body screamed at him to get on with it but he ignored his libido. This was for both of them and to thank Mello for sacrificing so much, L would make sure his lover was completely satisfied before tending to his own carnal needs.

"Mello," the blond's eyes were squeezed tight, he was expecting this to hurt but he wanted it so much. He wanted /L/. More than anything, he just wanted to be closer to the older man. Even if it was considered so very, very. He decided he didn't give a shit anymore and if anyone else did - well, they could just go fuck themselves. "Look at me." Bright blue eyes met gray-blue, the first pair pleading, the second looking on in concern. The truth was he was probably just as nervous as his younger counterpart but he'd reminded himself that he was a genius. If he could solve a seemingly impossible murder case in under 24 hours, he could do this.

"Please..." he whispered, and L gave in finally, pushing in slowly, feeling the muscles attempt to both keep him trapped right there and push him out in the same instance. It was almost too much. Then the younger boy moved his hips to guide his lover further inside. L worried that it would be much more difficult to find the spot that made this pleasurable for the blond, but his partner's body acted on it's own, pushing them together until it found what it was looking for.

Mello was biting his lip, eyes rolling back. L kissed the abused flesh, to which he was rewarded by his lover's mouth parting, letting him invade his body in yet another way. Mello's foot was digging into the detective's calf muscle, leg having tangled itself loosely around L's. The dark haired man let himself push his hips forward, becoming as closely connected with the other body as he could. Mello's other leg came up around his waist, holding him in the position.

"This...could prove to be...very frustrating for the both of us if you do not allow me to...move." L desperately tried to keep his voice even, to calm his breathing, remain in control of his own body but it became harder and harder with every passing second (very unlike him). The blond's legs loosened their hold, though other muscles still threatened to hold him in place. L was finding it quite impossible to concentrate then. He was overwhelmed with physical sensation, as well as the emotional connection that the act implied (He never thought he'd be such a romantic...). He could not imagine how other humans had casual sex. To be let inside another's body and not fully appreciate the intimacy of it ranked right at the top of the worst of the worst, next to, if not higher, than murder.

It was L's sole mission to make this the most pleasurable experience possible for Mello. So every movement that stole the boy's breath, or made him utter L's name, every time nails dragged down his back, he was brought closer to climax. It was the other's pleasure that felt better than the muscles squeezing him at every thrust. L's hand slipped between their bodies, grasping the blond's erection so the boy could come again before himself, since he had no idea how much longer he could hold back. When at last Mello finally did reach orgasm, for the second time that evening, L stopped, beginning to pull out of his lover, fully prepared to finish himself off with his own hand (another thing he'd read was how sensitive the human body was after orgasm, almost to the point of pain), but those strong, skinny legs were wrapped around his waist too tightly for him to leave.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It." L wanted to argue the point, but the blond was determined to have his own way (so very Mello-like), and it still felt so good, especially now that post-orgasmic muscle spasms were igniting that warm, fuzzyness that promised his release. And when the blond whispered, "I want you to come inside me," those bright blue eyes still clouded with lust, staring straight into his own, that was it. It was so dirty, yet incredibly intimate, and it was all L could take.

The detective had masturbated before, of course, only slightly less than normal males his age, and usually only when absolutely necessary for his own comfort, but this was completely different. Inside another body, the intense pleasure lasted so much longer, was so much more satisfying. He found himself having to fight not to collapse against his lover, quickly losing the battle despite his efforts.

"I should get up." L reasoned after finally catching his breath and regaining some strength.

"No, L, you really shouldn't. Now shut the hell up and lay still." The teen yawned, obviously exhausted, yet unwilling to sleep. L smiled and relaxed on top of his lover, laying his head on the boy's shoulder as thin arms tightened around his neck, not minding the fine blond locks that tickled his nose. After all, he was very tired himself. "God, L. That was...incredible. I can't even /believe/...I love you /so/ much..." Mello murmered, eyes closed, halfway to dreamland.

L smiled as he pressed his lips against warm, golden skin, nuzzled the spot behind Mello's ear, savoring the moment with all of his five senses. The sweet smell of Mello's hair, the taste of his sweat on his tongue, the way his smooth skin felt under L's fingertips, and the peaceful look that crossed his beautiful, angelic features.

"Mihael, I love you too."

L felt as if he could lie right there forever, and never once regret it. He was reminded of a line from an old movie he'd watched with Watari when he was very young called, 'Gone With The Wind', in which Rhett Butler said to Scarlett O'Hara, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." The actor had used the phrase in a slightly different context, signifying that he'd given up on the woman but still, L felt it could be applied to his own situation as well.

He'd just as soon let the world go on without them because, right now, he just didn't give a damn.


***

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