DISCLAIMER:We do not own Death Note and we get no money from this whatsoever, only freaky satisfaction.
This is a Dark Lemon, containing descriptions of both sexual and violent acts. If that isn't your thing, we don't recommend reading this. But you can try, if you want. =)
E/N: Hey there, DN fans! LONG time lurker/reviewer, first time poster. I, however, only had the pleasure of *editing* this little one-shot, not writing it. Ana Hakubi is the author, so if you like the story you should go and thank her, not me! Ana says she's been too busy to post lately :_( but I really liked how to story turned out and didn't want to wait, so I offered to post the edited version to my profile instead :) . Ana's Portuguese-language stories, as well as the original English version of this story, can be found here at FFN, at .net/u/334711/Ana_Hakubi. On behalf of us both, I hope you enjoy "The Hidden Side of the Moon"!
"Shall we play, Little God?"
The voice is melodious, soft, inviting. Friendly as always, or so it would seem except to ears so tired of listening to it.
"No. I don't want to. Leave me alone."
Raito closes his eyes and ears, tries to move away from that voice and not see that face. It is useless, because he knows that face very well. Sees it in the mirror. Hates it.
Can't live without it.
"You hurt me, acting like this. Why do you refuse what I offer you? You used to enjoy my presence…"
Raito feels the soft touch of fingers in his hair like an electric shock.
"No! I never wanted this! I never liked…"
"It never seemed that way to me, Little God."
The whisper is near his ear. It doesn't feel like it once did…
"GET OUT!!!" Raito crushes himself against the wall so hard it hurts. Without the courage to open his eyes, he shrinks onto the bed, protecting his head.
"Little God, why do you run away now? Haven't we been together a long time?"
Raito feels the other's weight on the bed, coming close.
"Stop calling me that…"
So Raito begs, even though he knows that begging is useless, that it just gives the other more pleasure. He can't help but beg, when the other's mere presence makes his body shake with terror.
"We are one, Little God. Or would you prefer I call you…Raito-kun?"
The perfect imitation. The same tone, the same serenity. Provoked by this as he could be by nothing else, the anger rises in Raito, and he faces the other straight-on for a moment.
"Stop it."
Just as expected. The other smiles. In the room's low light, it is a disturbing vision.
"I love those eyes of yours…"
Before Raito can turn away the other's hands wrap around his throat, pressing the windpipe, and he can only watch in horror as the other presses down harder, slowly smothering him. When he opens his mouth to gasp for air he suddenly finds it filled with the other's tongue.
The other's kisses are rare and violent, lasting just as long as he wants them to. He doesn't relieve the pressure on Raito's throat during the kiss, and by the time he pulls away and removes his hands Raito is dizzy from lack of air.
"Are you already panting, Raito-kun? You can't hide it from me. I know that you desire me deeply…" He kisses Raito again, biting his lips.
The taste of blood fills Raito's mouth. He lowers his head, feeling his strength leave him. The other has such power – always had, but Raito had not realized the full extent of that power until it was too late. How had it come to this? He tries to remember, but his thoughts are as dull as if he were drugged with opium.
The other's hands keep on moving along his body, cold, restive, like a disoriented reptile. Raito hears himself mumbling for the other to stop, but all he gets in response are scratches on his shoulders and stomach as the other pulls off Raito's shirt.
"We don't want to damage so beautiful a shirt…And with such a nice smell, too…" He sniffs the cloth like a drug, then casts it aside. Raito embraces himself instinctively. His head is still down, but he feels his skin burn in the heat of the other's gaze, especially on those parts of his body that carry the scars of previous visits.
"You don't change, Little God. I like that about you." He plays, softly gliding a fingernail down one of the recent scars. Raito closes his eyes tightly, wishing that it will end quickly and that the other will disappear.
But it won't end quickly. It never does.
Suddenly, the other slips his hand into Raito's pants, grasps his member and pulls it out softly, making the boy grimace. The other doesn't seem to be pleased, either.
"Hmph. Aren't you happy to see me? Well…don't be ashamed, it happens to everyone sometimes…" He says this in a tone of acid sweetness, and takes him in hand as Raito flinches.
While he stimulates Raito, the other places three of his free fingers in Raito's mouth. Raito thinks about biting him and maiming those fingers, but he can barely even breathe.
He feels himself growing excited involuntarily, and he hears the other's satisfied laugh as Raito's length swells in his hand. He sticks his fingers even further into Raito's throat, stopping only when saliva is running down Raito's chin and the boy seems ready to gag.
"Now we're getting somewhere…aren't we, darling?" He pulls down Raito's pants and boxers, and Raito feels an abnormal coldness settle over his entire body, but the other doesn't allow him to shrink away, sits on Raito's legs.
"I've given you some fun…it's my turn now. It's only fair, isn't it? We both understand what is just, don't we? We understand very well…" He laughs madly, facing Raito with burning eyes.
Raito's fear surpasses his torpor, and he shakes like a small animal, the other's little pet – he needs to get away from those blood-red eyes as soon as possible.
But all that he gets is more hurts and scratches all over his body. Finally, the other holds Raito's legs still and presses his wrists down violently, immobilizing him. A dribble of blood runs from his mouth, caused by a particularly strong slap.
"Now, let's play, Raito-kun." The other takes Raito's head in both hands and suddenly pulls it towards his still-clothed crotch. "Open up."
His thoughts completely frozen, Raito mindlessly complies for a few seconds and reaches for the other's zipper, then stops. Seeing his hesitation, the other grabs the boy's buttocks and thrusts his fingers violently against his entrance, in warning. The boy shivers, remembering what had happened the first time, when Raito had refused to do what the other wanted.
Raito starts slowly, opening the zipper. It is repugnant to him, but the other insists, almost shoving Raito's head towards his member. Knowing that he has no other option, Raito closes his lips over it and lets the bitter taste of pre-come fill his mouth. After what seems an eternity, the other, still not satisfied, moves forward suddenly and jolts Raito's head even further onto his member.
God, Raito thinks, how can somebody be so cold even in such a moment? He hears the other's grotesque laugh, and he feels the reptile hands that move his head at will. He has no choice except to suck it, but he doesn't know how long he can stand the nausea it causes.
Finally the other is satisfied, expressing his pleasure with an especially evil laugh. He doesn't allow Raito to move his head until he is completely finished.
"Ah…great as always, Raito-kun…" He takes a moment to brush Raito's hair back gently from his face, then re-assumes his cold demeanor, stretching his arms contentedly, arrogantly. "What shall we play now?"
Raito turns onto his side and lies on the bed, coughing heavily and feeling sick to his stomach. His neck is aching so much that he can't even turn his head and he is expecting to vomit at any moment. He barely has time to catch a breath before he feels the other's weight on his legs once more.
"Looks like you're feeling a bit sick again, Little God…but…I have something that can cheer you up!" The other says, revealing the Death Note in his hands. Raito's eyes widen.
"What…that means –"
"I brought your favorite toy."
The other shoves Raito against the headboard, violently throws himself atop the boy, climbs up his legs. His red eyes shine insanely. He rubs the notebook across Raito's panting chest, as if he were massaging it.
"Don't you love it the most? Think about it the most? Isn't it the center of your existence? It is so important to us both…it deserves to feel loved too, doesn't it?"
"Sick…this is sick…" Raito, bewildered and disturbed beyond measure, can only repeat this as the other rubs the Death Note further and further down his body. Suddenly he stops for a moment.
"No…it would be wrong. It's much too important for this, isn't it? Maybe…we must take only one sheet of paper…let's take a used one, and not waste a new page." In fact he tears two sheets out of the notebook and shows them to Raito. The sheets have writing on them. The boy closes his eyes in horror, in disbelief, not wanting to see the name of the one who had once called him his only friend.
"Ready? Let's get on with the fun now." The other puts the notebook aside and returns to rubbing the folded papers over Raito's body, despite his protests.
"C'mon, this is what you want…I know it is…you care only about the notebook, isn't that right? You care for it even more than your own soul…now, give us what you have…" He presses Raito against the headboard, whispering, with the papers between their two members. Raito turns his head to the side, leaning away from the mouth in his ear.
"He had a peculiar name, didn't he? Hey…" The other slowly whispers the name written on the sheet. "Hey, say it to me…you, that couldn't even uncover it on your own…only knew it for what it was when you finally read it. And you read it many times, didn't you? Say it…the name of the one buried in the ground."
"Stop…" Raito bites his lips, feeling as if he were dying. The other is rubbing himself and the papers against him more vigorously now, and Raito can feel his desire increasing dangerously as he insists the boy speak the name. When the other holds Raito's hands back painfully and his weight becomes unbearable, the boy finally gives in and says what he wants to hear.
The other's panting laugh completely fills the small bedroom and, instead of freeing Raito, he just increases the intensity of the act, sinking his nails into Raito's wrists and rocking against him until he is completely satisfied.
After it is all over, the other moves away slightly, but Raito doesn't move. He's not thinking about anything now, not even how degrading the situation is. Even the sight of deadly red eyes as the other's hands choked his life away hadn't so affected him. It can't get any worse now.
Or can it?
In a fast movement, the other suddenly mashes the used, damp sheets together in his hands and stuffs them into Raito's mouth before the boy has time to protest. Raito is turned violently onto his front and his knees and face sink into the mattress.
Without a word, the other takes Raito's legs in one hand, his head in the other, and rides him, penetrating strongly and eagerly. The paper gag prevents Raito from screaming, but a single tear escapes him without warning. He can hear the other's laughter, mixed with moans that become more and more horse-like as the act intensifies. Raito clutches desperately at the bed sheets, because that is the only thing he is allowed to do.
"So…" The other suddenly pulls Raito's head back, drawing the paper out of his mouth. "Who am I? You know the answer very well."
Raito remains silent. The other pulls more brutally, making the boy scream in pain. Just a little more and he could break Raito's neck, and Raito knows he would do it.
"The God…of the New World…"
"Yes…" The other pulls still more, an insane smile forming on his face. "And what else? Who else am I?"
"The God…of the New World…Kira…"
"And what else?" The other leans in close to Raito's face, and he can see that the distress upon the boy's face is extreme.
"And you…are…me…Kira…Yagami Raito…God…of the New World…"
"And you…who are you, Little God? Raito-kun?"
There is a moment of silence, not as a challenge to the other, but for the lack of an answer.
"I am…nobody."
The insane laugh fills the room again, as Kira is satisfied for the last time.
In the bedroom of an upscale apartment in Tokyo, Yagami Raito, 23 years old, laughs, alone and naked on his bed, among dirty sheets of paper and with his hands busy as he finishes satisfying himself. There is nobody else there. There never was.
A few hours later, when he wakes up, he sees the new marks, his nails dirtied with blood, and all the mess left behind by himself. And once more he erases all the evidence, as he has done his entire life. Erasing his own stains comes so easily to him now.
And as the stains disappear, the signs on the path disappear too, making it impossible to go back.