Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Nor do I own the song "Black Ocean", which inspired this piece and from which I stole the title and the last line at the end...
Warning: DN psychobabble. Waah! Implied sex. You know, between dudes.
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Black Ocean
A sea of bodies fallen to the tide below. And above, vast and endless, pierced with light - the faintest glimmer of hope - it extends and extends. It is all as dark as the ocean, unending and whole. A blanket for the burdened mind. A shelter for those lost in solitude.
"L..."
Whispers could be treacherous - little breaths marked with sin, darkened by cruel intentions that could rend the earth with their hidden malice. It would be the highest folly to bend under their weight, to believe in their quiet promises. It would be death, a long dive into a black sea with no hope to ever resurface, to ever see the sun again.
"Light..."
Wrapped in darkness, hidden behind the cloak of a murmur of an eternal night, a blackness so deep it could hide every secret, all types of unraveling may begin. He felt it wholly - a division followed by an alignment. The momentary entwining of souls so different, the binding of two separate bodies, locked for an instant that spanned so many centuries, so many lifetimes, all that preceded this closeness might have been forgotten, might have been forgotten if that whisper of eternal night had not been a lie.
"Light-kun... This is... wrong."
He soon learned. It was ground into his mind in spite of his unwillingness to accept it. Words had no meaning any longer. They could never possibly express the bleak eternity of the night sky, could never describe the force that was devouring his soul, overshadowing his every thought.
Fallen.
It was a word throughout history - for every turn of events, every rebellion, every loss of faith - its implications vast and its meaning profound, yet he found it all swallowed by the night sky, as lost as a drop in the ocean whenever his mind pondered what it might mean to him. As though his life had ever held any meaning to begin with.
Because a tomorrow was no longer plausible. The movement of time had been stopped, its passage swept away in a tide of passion that only left them, bare and clinging, with each other to gaze upon, to believe in. Yes, someone had fallen, plummeted through infinite space to come to this place. But who? A god or a human? Were they both? Complete? On their own in each other? He thought perhaps it was beyond his understanding now. Perhaps eternity was not such a foolish belief. At least for this moment, for this night, he could bear the notion of spending forever with him.
Why? He was beauty defined. His face, his skin, his voice - it was all transcribed from some ancient book about a heathen paradise, some arcane text whose meaning had been lost underneath centuries of human development, lost under the crushing weight of reason and science. He knew looking up at him - he was always looking up at him - that he was from another plane entirely. And when that divine creature extended his hand and silently asked if he wanted to go and see it for himself, how could he possibly say no? How could anyone turn away?
When laying naked on his back, gazing up at hazy starlight, he could almost feel his intelligence drifting away from him, every bit of knowledge he'd spent all of his 25 years acquiring just falling away, shedding off of him like a dried and useless skin. No fact, no law of man could possibly pull him upward. He was locked in a pair of softly tan, smoothly muscled arms and it felt like drowning.
It was a subtle seduction, fingertips grazing his spine. It was always cryptic and vague, whispered teases left for him to decode.
"You know, L, your skin looks like moonlight."
The moon and the sun, wasn't it? He would be reflecting that heat for all eternity, until that god was brought down by his own fire, consumed by everything he was. Because he could never last, not like that. It could never last. They could never last. Supreme heat and blistering, abusive cold - one could only hope to overtake the other to survive. One could only hope. Fragile, persistent, burning little fragments that kept flickering against the black that stretched above the two of them, prone and exhausted. The two of them deconstructed.
He wondered how far they had gone, how deep they had sunken. It was to the farthest reaches, the deepest trench. And there, a warm hand stroking his thigh, pulling all kinds of heat from within him, he thought it might be nice to stay. To further and further and further align with the unfolding darkness inside of this boy. This man. This heathen god. To be one.
To be one, entwined, inextricably, forever. That's all he wanted. That was all his soul was begging for. On bended knee, it was all that his heart was calling out to the sky above for.
"I hope you know that this won't change anything, Light-kun. We are still..."
The same people we were before. The words were stopped by a constriction in his throat, stopped by a crushing of flesh on flesh. By the lips of an over-eager child kissing roughly and sloppily at his own, by the lips of a calculatingly angelic fiend attempting to extend the slowly waning passion of their afterglow.
"We can worry about that tomorrow, L."
Tomorrow. It would not come. This night was the beginning and the end all wrapped into one. And there was no way out of it, no pathway to morning. Would it just become a faint memory? The heated embrace that melted them both down to nothing. Would the encroaching dawn burn it all away?
Of course, of course. His mind was gone. He could not fathom it.
"Light-kun, I ..."
... You.
... Love you.
... I love you.
"What is it, Ryuuzaki?"
It would come back, but not without a struggle. If the two of them, with the knowledge of their Delphic sin gnawing at their resolve, were allowed to greet the morning, it would not be without sacrifice. It would not be without casting aside the eternity they had glimpsed under the night sky, above the ocean; the eternity that had wrapped them up tightly in the darkness. It would not be.
"This was a mistake."
He heard laughter, slow and even. The kind of laughter that contained no joy and was only for effect. A mechanism to fill the silence.
"You know, I think I agree with you for once, L."
The air was tense and strained, but full. Full with something they would soon force themselves to forget, if they could. Something they might hold secretly in their hearts, if they could bear the weight of it.
Slowly, he reached out, his mind not following the actions of his body before it was too late. It was too late. L held Light's hand, his bony fingertips resting gently against the other's palm. And Light - that boy, that child who seemed to transform into the god he was so bent on becoming in those rare moments when he forgot his lust for power and blood - smiled through the darkness and did not let go.
The first harrowing sliver of light appeared above the horizon and the harshness of their reality came with it. For the eternity they could not keep, the endless ocean below them would remain black and unknown, and those words they swallowed would remain unspoken. And neither, be it by their denial or pride or love, could manage to let go of the trembling hand they each held in their own.
Oh, my love,
will we make it through this night?
END
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Anyway. Mah. Don't ask me, 'cause I don't know. O.o
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