A/N: My first attempt at this pairing – I had the idea and just had to get it down. Kinkiest shit I've ever written, I can tell you. To be perfectly honest, I'm not 100 happy with how this has turned out; I can't seem to get the pacing right, no matter how many times I tweak it. But, short of completely re-writing it, I really have done everything I can to do my first real plot bunny justice. Enjoy!
Before You Go
Lawliet.
Such a simple name, and yet such a difficulty to find.
Light's lips twisted into a smirk, pen weaving, dancing, through long fingers. He had won: with a name and a face he could do anything; with the right name, and the right face, he could rule the world. It was almost too easy.
Lazily, he closed his eyes and bathed in the memory of Rem's realisation that the only way her precious Misa-Misa could be safe was for L, Lawliet, to die. She had told Light his name that night, bony body gleaming in the silver glow of the moon, then melted through the wall and away.
Light had peered eagerly into the corridor to see her write down Watari's real name, limbs slowly turning to dust as she did so; the shinigami had two threats to eliminate, but only one body to sacrifice. L would have to be taken care of by Kira himself.
Fingertips brushed idly the rough corners of pages, paper rustling seductively, ready and waiting to be stained by ink and malice. The Great L, about to be brought down by a notebook and a name. Light laughed.
The pen in his hand stopped twirling and was brought to the blank canvas on which it could paint Light's whim. Before he began to write, however, Light paused, nib hovering over feint rule, brilliant mind seeing an opportunity and embracing it whole-heartedly. What was it Ryuk had written? After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written within the next 6 minutes 40 seconds. Total control.
The desk lamp beside him flashed wickedly in his eyes, and Light wrote. Lawliet. Caramel hair lanced into his face, perfect skin glowing, illuminated with a slight orange tinge, and his breath hitched with excitement, the thrill of murder sending shivers of anticipation through him. He bristled, slender hand setting down his weapon of choice, and glanced at his wrist. Thirty seconds to wait.
The deceptively inanimate notebook was flipped shut and set aside. Twenty seconds.
Light ran a hand through his hair and stood up, impatient. Ten.
A quick scan of the room – tidy, sultry, dimly lit. One.
A soft knock on the door, and Light's lips parted, tongue darting out to wet the cherry pink flesh. "Come in," he invited calmly, turning to look out of the window into a darkening sky, clouds rolling threateningly on the horizon, his back to the door.
He heard it open with scrape of the handle and close again with a click of the lock.
"Hello, Light-kun," said a small voice behind him. He wiped his face of its smirk, and looked over his shoulder, curiosity painted into his features, eyebrows slightly raised, a perfect imitation of someone visited unexpectedly.
"Hello, Ryuzaki."
L was standing just in front of the door, loose jeans hanging far too long, typically bared feet slightly obscured by dark, fraying denim. His hands were dug deep in his pockets, and the white cotton enveloping his slight frame was stretched at the neck, gaping to reveal a defined collarbone. Wide, tired eyes stared out from underneath black hair, thick clumps standing proud of his head, unkempt and wild. He didn't move or say anything, simply stood still, waiting for Light's command. Total control.
A feral grin uncharacteristic of the usually calm and rational teen tugged at the corners of his mouth, curled back lips almost predatory, glinting white teeth just visible and sharp. "Sit down," he offered, gesturing at the large sofa on his right. L obediently sat where he'd been directed, and Light padded across the shag-pile carpet towards him, halting just short of the detective who remained gazing directly ahead, seemingly oblivious to the jumpy figure less than a metre from his face.
"Look at me," snapped the teen, and L raised his head, dark irises locking with Light's distant and slightly unfocused.
Light reached out, cautiously at first, as if in a dream, then, upon noting L's lack of reaction, with growing confidence, fingertips brushing a sharp jaw, drifting over pale cheeks. He boldly buried five thin digits in the midnight tangle of jet strands and jerked back L's head, exposing his throat. Bringing his mouth close to the skin, Light grazed his teeth over the vulnerable neck, meeting no objection or resistance from his rival. His breath rushed hot over L's cool collarbone.
The proximity was intoxicating, and Light inhaled deeply the sugar-tainted musk of the detective before him. He bit down on L's jugular – much like a lion breaking the neck of its prey – and began to suck, tongue circling; bruising, marking. Pushing the placid man back, into the cushions, Light climbed onto the couch with him, tearing his mouth from the flesh he was so enjoying and beginning to attack lips instead. He groaned at L's indifference; power, control and the will to dominate coursing through him like fire, making his nerves burn with the contact whenever skin brushed skin, electrified.
"Clothes off," he whispered, and L's hands tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, before Light's slender fingers had grasped them and pulled them instead to his own collar. Understanding and obeying, L delicately began unbuttoning the teen's shirt, slipping it from his shoulders when nimble fingers reached the end of their line, turning his attention immediately to Light's heavy belt, unbuckling it without question.
Light revelled in the feel of L's hands against his chest as they slid towards his tailored trousers, and lifted his hips and shifted his stance so as to allow expensive cotton to be slid over his thighs, calves, ankles, pooling on the floor next to his discarded shirt.
Resuming his original task, L tugged his white t-shirt over his head, raven hair getting swept to the side messily in the process. Navy jeans were removed in an instant, and Light continued his assault on the impassive man beneath him. Their naked torsos pressed together as Light leant in hungrily, snatching his lips away from tantalisingly smooth skin for a few seconds in order to breathe harshly, "Touch me."
Delicate fingers ran over Light's stomach, tripped over his ribs and circled to his back, clutching at shoulder blades and a sweat-slicked spine, echoing the paths traced over and across their owner by his. The contact was hesitant, unsure; enough to send Light's adrenaline levels rocketing, but not quite enough to satisfy ten long months of caged desire. "Harder," growled the teen, demonstrating his point with a fierce grip on L's shoulders and rough bite to the nape of his neck.
Soft strokes of fingertips instantly dug deeper, clawing at Light's fiery skin. With a shaky breath, the teen pushed L further down on the sofa, mouth ghosting over a rippling chest, butterfly light presses of his lips leaving a hot trail down the older man's body. "Kiss me," he whispered, bringing his face close to the submissive detective's, and their lips crashed together fervently.
Light's hands wound themselves into L's midnight black hair as he straddled his rival, breathing shallow with want and need. He nibbled at L's bottom lip, broke away and pulled one hand reluctantly out from the soft locks, hooking his arm instead underneath a slim thigh, wrenching it up and away from its partner. Sliding down the man beneath him, Light knelt between L's legs, bending over his lithe torso to greedily press their mouths together once more.
He felt the older man tense involuntarily as Light began to press himself into the detective, and he hissed, "Relax." L went limp beneath him, and he slid easily into the exquisite heat he had so longed for. The older man squeezed him in silent protest, and Light's eyes flickered shut in delight at the delicious friction surrounding him.
Without thinking, he immediately began pulling out so that he could slam again into the tight, slick confines that enveloped him, engulfed him in ecstasy. L started to whine in pain, but Light hushed him back into silence, articulate fingers winding themselves around velvet skin.
He tugged and stroked in time to the thrusts, and L's instincts prevailed over the limitations Light had placed on his rationale. He was completely incapacitated by some supernatural force, reduced to an animal; reacting without thought, obeying without question. His cheeks flushed with his natural arousal at the touch, and Light gasped his pleasure, hips pounding quick and sharp.
L lay placid on the charcoal cushions, kissing back when Light leant in, reaching out when Light came near, tensing his muscles when Light moaned his name, but otherwise doing nothing. Through lust-crazed eyes, Light looked down upon his rival, so timid and obedient, so distant and changed that it almost wasn't him.
But it was enough.
The teen struggled to keep a scream from tearing itself from his lips as he felt the tight coil in his stomach spring, sweet release exploding into the older man. He ducked his head down to L's ear, hand still pumping, hips still thrusting, and breathed, "Come for me," into a tangle of black.
With a small noise, L simply did, seed spilling over the teen's strong, slender fingers. Light choked in exhaustion, sweat glistening on his tanned muscles, still shuddering through the high he'd hit. He brought his hand to L's lips, commanding, "Suck."
The detective's delicate mouth opened and willingly took in Light's sticky digits, tongue lacing around knuckles. Light slowly withdrew from the man beneath him, extracting his licked clean fingers at the same time and letting L's leg drop.
It was time.
A sharp gasp escaped the older man, and Light bent down to press their lips together once more, stealing L's last breaths, a single tear rolling down his cheek and smearing against L's skin. The detective tensed, chest muscles spasming, wide eyes glassy and accepting as his heart stopped, brain starved of oxygen and shutting down, dying.
Light continued kissing, despite the absolute stillness of the man beneath him, until L's skin felt cold. He pulled away, teeth scraping against a blue lip, reluctant to let go.
Sorry.
I love these two far too much.
Review?