For your writing challenge, why don't we see a little LxLight from Death Note? I cheated and chose to combine two of the prompts but I figured you'd let me get away with cheating. I was thinking 'Rivalry' with maybe a dash of 'Failure' in there.
4. Rivalry & 23. Failure - LxLight, Death Note
(Angst. You asked for this)
Light Yagami is the most perplexing puzzle he’s ever had to solve. When the pieces seem to fit, the pattern never aligns correctly; the picture is all wrong. There’s a distortion that’s always changing how the final image appears once L has deciphered each new section of the jigsaw, just trying to glimpse the true side of Light that remains always enshrouded by enigma. Since they’ve met, it’s become a game they both play, yet failure to win constitutes death. Lies and cheats are how you win; there’s no honor to be had or won. It’s quite simply a game of keeps, a battle of wits, and all the moves are played within each other’s minds, insidiously. And L is losing, though he is grudged to admit it even to his own self. Where along their timeline did the odds turn against him, favoring Kira? An exact moment could not be recalled or dated. L isn’t sure when the clock started ticking to the rhythmic sound of his approaching demise. Because he certainly doesn’t remember the moment when he fell in love, either, but at whatever day and hour his heart was made to be Light’s fool is one and the same to when his ends began coming faster. After all the God of Death cannot be delayed forever; he’s already grown so impatient. There’s a definitive craving, a desire for the end of it – of him, that L sees haunting Light’s beautiful eyes. It’s there, so plainly, whenever Light’s gaze is upon him.
It’s become a favored expression of Light’s, and something he says quite often when they are finding moments of time alone together. But that’s not affection shining in those eyes. They have the same shadowed look of cruelty and hatred. There’s never the mildest hint of something delicate as fondness and love. It’s the careful act that Light’s constructed around the farce that threatens to have L finally hooked, making it as dangerous as it is easy to forget that the eyes express the truth buried in a person’s soul. Gentle touches of passing hands, small smiles caught upturned on Light’s lips, and the way Light’s begun to favor proximity to L at all times. The young man is an constant presence lingering about him now and Light would have him believe that was entirely due to volition. A convincing display, but never a performance that L will allow himself to believe for long. Light is persistent about this, as he is with all things, however. No matter how often L rejects the notion, calls it out for the lie it so obviously is, Light repeats the same false claims of love to him as consistently as a record that’s been broken would sing a tune time and again.
“I don’t think it possible for Kira to love anyone.” It’s the only defense he’s got left against the young man; a reminder that he knows the truth even if others fail to see it when Light is always denying it. He says it while arranging his candies in color coded clusters across the expanse of his work space, hunched over in his chair with his back to Light. He doesn’t want to look at the other man and so he keeps himself busy.
“I think you’re right.” Light’s voice is soft, yet layered with a distinct tone of frustration. He approaches L, standing beside him with a carefully adopted expression of sadness. “Which makes sense, seeing that I’m not him.” He lets the statement hang in the stagnant air of the office space around them while idly reaching down to pick up one of L’s confections from off the desk. L’s eyes finally lift upward, dim and overshadowed with exasperation, though it’s not clear whether it’s due to Light’s denial or because one of his treats is now held hostage that his irritation is so quickly peaked. Light is standing their, lax in his position as he casually leans back to seat himself at the edge of the desk, smiling as he looks down at L. The expression is sweet. Just as sweet as the candy tastes as it’s brushed against L’s lips suddenly, yet with care, offered to him by Light with an innocent little chuckle. “So therefore, I am free to love you. And I do.” L’s lips part, allowing the candy to drop onto his tongue, Light’s fingers accompanying it to curiously explore his unfamiliar tongue, if only for a brief and delicate touch. Saccharine, the flavor melts across his taste buds, palate appeased by its pleasant savor. L’s head dips suddenly, dark fringes of unruly bangs draping over his face to hide it for a moment. He grunts awkwardly to fill the silence that spreads around them, and out of nervous compulsion he begins rearranging the remaining candies again.
“What about you, Ryuzaki? Do you love me, too?” And Light is smirking now, smile giving way to the expression. L can hear it even when he doesn’t look to see. Because Light knows the answer and L does, too. And the truth of his strange and unexplainable attraction is that it is the failure that is to be his doom. Slowly, his gaze dares to draw back toward the young brunette and as he meets the eyes of his killer – yes, L is certain it will be this boy to end him – he allows for his failure to consume him, to take its full form. He’s standing then, quite suddenly, and reaching up for Light’s face, taking hold of the young man none too gently. He takes a kiss because he knows it’s all he is able to take from Light now – he’ll be given nothing more than this and death. The kiss is returned, quite earnestly, yet still with an alluring kind of coyness that suggests it could be one of Light’s firsts. And he remembers the way Light holds him, as if he’s a possession to be kept rather than someone to love, because it’s the very same way the young man holds him as he dies.