Drabble prompt: B insinuates L had a type (smart twinky Japanese murderers) and that Light was a major downgrade. Light is mortified by the insinuation but also can't help but insist that he would've been a major upgrade compared to B. LMAO
As the day wore on, the heat climbed higher, even higher, for a mid-summer day. Rivulets of sweat slid down his forehead, his shirt soaked and oppressively clinging to his back. Light felt the cotton stretching uncomfortably against his skin as he leaned against the wooden counter, seeking relief in the shadows of the empty pub and the cold glass of whiskey in his hand.
The sweet buzz of the fan with the jingle-jangle of bottles shifting order on the shelves would lull even a workaholic God… He could ask for more minutes of rest, but the sudden slam of the door opening didn't agree, apparently.
Light knew Beyond was there before the man talked. With eyes closed, sipping his drink in total peace, his ears well-captured the agonizing sounds of heels stomping on the floor and fingers drumming against the counter saying in Morse code ─ 'Hello God of the assholes'.
"Beyond." Light had the decency to say before gesturing for another drink. "What brings you here?"
"Gossiping. Well─ it's likely to become the talk of the town soon." Beyond poured himself a drink from a bottle, grinning in Light's direction. Who was still pretending he didn't exist ─ too bad, he would get the long-awaited attention within seconds. "Good ol' L really like murders. And murderers. To L─ being in direct contact with a killer felt like bathing in blood during a carnage. The benefits of walking barefoot in the hot fluids, viscera squishing under the soles, you know, that subtle rolling massage that makes your skin crawl and de-stress from all the tension… Aaah."
Beyond gulped down the alcohol, cheeks flushing with loving memories.
"Nah, killer Gods cannot know. They just hold their fingers like this," He turned towards Light, fingers aiming at his head like a gun. "And, puff, he's deaaaad! Deader than dead! HA HA HA."
Light huffed in silence, forehead sinking against his glass as he counted down to ten to refrain his venom ─ was it worth killing this man with his bare hands? "Beyond. Get to the point."
"L fell on disgrace liking Kira." The lonely audience of Light and the barman was enough for the sociopath to jump on the counter and walk down his catwalk, dripping alcohol at every step by swinging the bottle with only him would define elegant energy. "I don't really understand what he found in a kid playing God with a damn pen and a notebook, doing all the pfewh pfewh in the obscurity of his cute little bedroom─" Heels planted in front Light, Beyond crouched down to observe the man who stole L's attention from him. "And jerking off on an L scribbled on a piece of paper like 'Oh captain, oh my captain L, roses are red! Violets are blue! But the world is not the same without y─'"
Light stared back angrily, cheeks flushing─ certainly not because of the heat wave or the alcohol in his veins. His intention to ignore B's insinuations crashed to pieces the moment he spat back his retort. "Then, I guess L wasn't fond of sociopath killers who even failed at setting themselves on fire!"
The answer was yes ─ yes, he would kill this man with his bare hands right now.
"You don't see the poetic in the scorching fire of a suicide murder!"
"Accept the fact he liked me more than you!"
"Your hands have no knowledge of the ecstasy of disembowelment! Oh L, if you only let me show you─"
"Your worm-shaped brain cells coming back to the underground? Oh, I am sure he would love that."
"You're unworthy of his attention, little illusion of a God."
"Worthier than you, asshole─"
"STOP!" Mello roared from his director's chair, throwing away the script that Beyond and Light weren't following ─ obviously. "STOP, FUCKIN' STOP YOU TWO! "
Matt rolled his eyes as it was already the twenty-ninth failed attempt at shooting the same scene ─ he had told Mello from the start that it was a bad idea involving both Beyond and Kira in a memorial documentary of L.
