Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: T?

Spoilers: None.

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Win

By Azar-Apocalypse

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He could hear Matt moving beside him; he could smell Matt's sweat; he could feel Matt's breath on his arms...

But that, of course, only made Mello move faster, despite the tightness in his abdomen and the quivering of his thighs.

They hadn't even made it to the bedroom, and the musty, dirty carpet scraped at Mello's palms as he clenched his fingers and pressed on. He was so close - just a little longer...

"Shit," Matt groaned, panting heavily. "I can't- Mello, I-" He broke off with a short grunt; and the noise spurned Mello on, until he was moving so quickly that the strain on his muscles almost hurt.

Mello nodded weakly and replied with a hoarse: "No - me either." His arms ached from supporting him for so long. His sweat-dampened hair was clinging to his forehead and the burn, deep in his thighs, grew stronger; almost painful. He knew that he, like Matt, couldn't last for much longer...

Barely seconds later, Matt collapsed beside him with a loud 'thud' and immediately drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Done." He sounded relieved; euphoric, even.

Mello scowled and forced himself to continue; and he did, until he, too, finished. "You might have won," he said, irritated, as he wiped himself dry on his rag of a shirt, "but I could still beat the shit out of you."

"Touché," Matt mumbled. He was asleep within the next minute; and Mello was so exhausted that he simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling disappointment curl in his gut.

He had lost.

But tomorrow, Mello decided as he sleepily listening to Matt snore, I'll demand a rematch (in the bedroom, of course, where the carpet wasn't so worn) and definitely win.

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They were doing push-ups, you perverts.