What inspired this? Can't say. Shitty writing, I'm afraid, due to the fact that I wrote this on New Year's Day at 3 in the morning. It'll get better. Hang in there.
A dull drum of fingers on a keyboard was in the corner; the hum of the monitors peaked to the ceiling radiated their warmth throughout the room; a chair would squeak every now and then, but as the time began to drag out, Lidner was beginning to count the times Giovanni rearranged himself in his chair.
Rester was out fetching an impromptu dinner for the four and Near's heap of toys was unattended in the middle of their sophisticated clutter. He was going to sleep, he had said, but Lidner and Giovanni often exchanged glances with the silent passing of words: do we believe him or not?
Ever since that hour, the silence was quite unnerving. Giovanni could've thrown his keyboard across the room by now-or rather, Lidner would've done it before the clacking noise had etched its way into her skull forever.
Rester managed to be uncanny and surprise the two then and there; the door slid open and brought back life and colour to their draining world. Nonetheless, the two agents were happy to have a distraction.
"I'm afraid McDonalds was the only thing open at this hour." He set the heavy paper bag down on a chair. "All I got were four burgers. I didn't know what you all wanted or anything."
"It's still food," Giovanni argued, reaching his hand in and pulling out two. "Thanks, Rester." He tossed one to Lidner. "Near's will be cold when he wakes up, probably."
"Speaking of," taking off his jacket, Rester sighed heavily. "How is he? He's been in there for at least an hour, right? Is he really sleeping?"
Lidner set down her food and began scrolling through the security camera options. "Can't say. We didn't exactly check on him yet."
When she pulled up the necessary footage, the three crowded around to see the view.
Near was in fact lying on the bed; however, he had not moved the decorative pillows or drew back the sheets. His eyes were closed a little too forcedly to be healthy, and he was obviously far from comfortable.
Rester frowned. "He looks a little…stiff."
Near twitched in the feed and grit his teeth.
"He's having a nightmare, I guess."
Giovanni didn't stray his eyes from the feed. "Should we wake him up?"
Rester snickered. "Last time he had sleep was on that blasted plane he had me ride on with him. At least that I saw. Nightmarish sleep is better than no sleep to me."
With a flick of his hand, Giovanni accepted the reasoning and returned to his pile of unsorted profiles on the other side of the room. Lidner threw the footage in the corner of the screen and resumed her work as well. Something, however, gnawed at the back of their minds. Something declaring this wasn't right.
When he had first decided for himself that resting was a good idea, he had never thought that he would take it to this room. Why not the excuse of a bedroom designed for small naps on the floor of his headquarters, where sense was? Near had no sense of style or need for luxury, but for some reason, his exhausted mind lead him here; the frilly and baby blue bedroom suited for a long-staying guest.
As he lay his head on the main spread, careful not to disturb the display of the bed, he began to think of the investigation and his co-workers. Giovanni, his faithful spy, was back and working diligently. Lidner as well, but passing information to Mello was definitely an issue Near would have to settle sooner or later. Rester was out getting food…
And he was alone. For once, he noticed to himself, he was alone and could take his mind off of Kira and the investigation. He could think about other things.
He let his eyes close and his mind wander to something other than his current work.
Suddenly, a feeling of unbelievable warmth enveloped him, and he exhaled deeply. But the warmth was still there, still trapped in his lungs, so he exhaled again. It became a comfortable burden and he decided to exhale a third time, but his body moved with him, and he found himself in a pattern of theses sighs and quakes. Almost as if he had become a song.
Before he could stop himself, however, the warmth became more uncontrollable, and he had to wearily moan in order to release the sufficient supply out of his system each time now. He accepted it, finding something good in all this, and continued. Each time he exhaled, the warmth grew more intense, and with satisfaction he clawed at the sheets, moaned louder, and squirmed gently. It felt amazing, for some reason; it felt so good to never get rid of this warmth.
But when he opened his eyes, that warmth turned into a scorching fire, a beast, and a nuisance. His body refused to stop, however, and Near's contentment had turned into anxiety. The pace quickened without his approval, and he shut his eyes painfully to try and ward off the feeling inside of him. It was impossible to bear.
Just when it might've suffocated him, he sprung upright in his bed, dripping in sweat. His breathing was rapid and uneasy, and the case flooded back into his brain. Near gazed around at the dimly lit room, wondering how long he had spent having some kind of sensation. Without much argument, he forced himself to lie back down and try again. He focused on L this time, thinking back to Wammy's House and upbringings. That should cool me down.
However, with the ice inside his lungs, he plunged himself into a deep abyss of memories he swore he would never resurface again.
Ah, shitty beginning is shitty. It's only 4 in the morning, right? Yes, that explains it.
If you couldn't tell, Near was having a wet dream. Pleasure is a psychological factor in any person's mental breakdown, so I decided to start with this one. Plus, Near is at the puberty time in his life. It couldn't be more appropriate.
Perhaps I'll continue this.