A/N: This is set in an alternative universe with similar happenings as those that happened in Death Note. There is a mentioning of Beyond Birthday from Death Note: Another Note, and there are spoilers for those of you who haven't read the entire Death Note series or seen the entire anime.
Summary: It was chemical, really. One reaction set of another and another and yet there was no catalyst that was unaffected. Slash, LxRaito, RaitoxL2, L2=L
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
CHEMICAL
If he'd had a choice, he would have taken everything back.
That was a lie. He wouldn't have taken back the things he'd said or the things that he'd done, but he did wish the end result would have been different. It would have saved a life. After all, that life had belonged to him from the moment the Death Note fell from the Shinigami realm and then been grasped by his perfect hands. The world had been his that very second.
However, that didn't change the fact that he didn't want his only rival to die, not like that anyway. If he'd had a choice, he wouldn't have wanted L to die by his own hands. L's life had been worth something; they'd been after the same cause, after all. Just as Raito was aiming for purifying the world of its self-induced filth by eliminating those who were the sources of the evil, L had gone about it in the slow and monotonous way, saving one series of potential victims at a time, always losing time and another case with every second that passed.
So Raito shouldn't have regretted anything seeing as it was L's stupidity that had killed him. Raito had only done the will of the universe and taken him out. That was how the universe worked. Survival of the fittest. Not strong enough? Too bad; you die.
Still, Raito regretted having lost a life such as L's, if only for the fact that he had lost one of the few people who had actually had any impact on the world. Everyone knew of L and everyone knew who he was. They would have trusted him even without ever seeing his face because of his history and what he'd done. Raito did regret his death but not because of guilt. Guilt was below him. Gods didn't feel guilt. They felt power. Raito felt power.
So why was Raito in this laboratory, looking down at little amoebas as if they were the solution to the problem he was harboring? Maybe it was because the little cells that were splayed so carefully across the Petri dish were an answer, maybe the only answer he would ever get the chance to test. Or maybe it was because he knew that pieces of L were in that Petri dish and he just enjoyed having bits of his enemy/cohort in front of him so he could poke and prod at him.
Both were true but even Raito wasn't sure which was more potent at the very moment. All he cared for was the fact that he had L's cells in this little Petri dish and he was in a lab—no one knew he was in the lab of course; Gods weren't allowed to sully their hands with legal business and contracts so he'd obviously killed all the inhabitants of this lab and taken it over for himself—that had allegedly stored stem cells taken from the umbilical cords of various children. That was what he appreciated of the criminal world: ingredients were so much easier to come by.
Raito had taken biology and science classes and just as with all his other classes, he exceeded in all aspects. So he knew that stem cells could be manipulated, transformed into any kind of cell needed. And he had access to millions, zillions of them even. They were there, being kept incubated so they could multiply and stay alive, ready to be taken over by a more intellectual cell, one more prepared to order another cell around than to take orders. A cell like the one in Raito's Petri dish, the L cell.
Things had been going well. The various cells that were now controlling the once-useless stem cells were multiplying rapidly under the conditions Raito had set for them. Stem cells had become L's brain cells—brain cells that Raito could see were only normal and very much human.
Raito was playing God and he knew it, but only he could do it. If he ruled the Death Note and could kill on a whim like a God could, surely he could create life like a God. For every fall, there was a rise that caused it. For every death, there had to be a life added. Surely that was how the world worked, God or not.
Somehow, Raito hadn't suspected he'd reach such a major conflict though. He had thought to recreate L, to bring him back to life. Had he thought it through, he would have realized that even if he was able to bring someone like L back to life, there was no way to be sure whether or not he would be the L Raito knew. He could very well be an empty shell of a human, lifeless and a puppet just like the prisoners Raito had sent to leave those notes before their deaths. L's note would surely say, 'FAILURE'.
Raito looked down at the organs that were slowly developing, the tissue having begun to spread through the incubation unit's ceramic tray just weeks before, and shook his head as if to knock away the negative thoughts.
L would be coming back. There was no way that he wouldn't. He couldn't not come back.
--
There were things that shouldn't have existed, that Raito knew. Psychopaths and crazy murderers and criminals shouldn't exist. Because of their existence, Raito had gracefully fallen into this life of killing others in order to prevent the innocent from being killed. It was a bit of that horrid irony that he hated so much. That didn't change the fact that Raito found himself staring down at what he had created, the mass of organs, silicone tunnel-like veins, and the metal frame that was shaped so magnificently into a skeleton. As he stared on at the working organs and the perfectly functioning body that he had created, he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't L. There was no skin and no feathered, messy black hair and there was no way that L would be L without any of those characteristics. So Raito went back to the drawing board, leaving his perfect recreation of the human body alone, its faceless, empty skull facing toward the bright medical light above it, unseeing for there were no onyx eyes to see it.
--
Skin was what Raito needed first. He wouldn't make the mistake Dr. Frankenstein had made when he had sewn together the flesh of other men. No, L's skin would have to be alive and it would have to regenerate. That was impossible in most standards. If only Raito could get his hands on some donated skin from a perfectly willing donor, he wouldn't have to force someone to give it up by using the Death Note. This was L. People should have been begging to bring him back to life, offering their very beings to bring him back. This was the difference between the world and Raito. Raito was ready to risk what he could. The world didn't risk anything that was worth risking.
To stay alive, cells function with other organs and multiply through mitosis when one cell dies. That's how humans stayed alive. Raito remembered the time he told Sayu that the cells in their body had to split so there would be more, otherwise the body would die. Sayu had started crying hysterically, thinking about what would happen if her cells were sub par and couldn't regenerate because they were bad at math and didn't know how to divide. That was Sayu's thinking when she was ten. Raito's thinking now was very similar.
L's cells weren't splitting up and regenerating as they were supposed to. Some were sluggishly dividing only to become deformed so there was less than half a split between the two cells. Others were dividing and dying too quickly. It wasn't something Raito knew how to fix. He looked for answers in one of those shining beacons he'd always heard about but not once was there anything he could actually use. Books didn't hold the answers he needed and no medical journals could even begin to scratch the surface of what he needed.
Raito was stuck wondering if maybe L would remain the perfectly constructed organ-palette that he'd created. The one that was L-shaped, that had thin, sinewy muscles and spider-like hands that were creepier now that they had no skin.
No, that can't happen, Raito thought to himself. God won't allow it.
--
Time was something that was never in supply when Raito was at work in the laboratory. Seldom did he have the time or concentration it took for him to relax in his apartment, the one that had once been shared with Misa, until she was taken care of. With Rem gone and Ryuk never around and never bothering him, Misa was just another pawn that could be sacrificed right on the chess board. One false move from her and that was it. Besides, he didn't need Misa's eyes anymore. He had his own. Science was wonderful, and that's what Raito had been researching even before he had started trying to bring L back to life.
By extending his own life, the life that his body wouldn't allow him to have if he had remained the way he was born, he could get the Shinigami eyes and not have to have anyone around as a liability. So he did. It was what he did best after all, outrunning death. His body's growth had been halted and he would stay young. No, that wasn't entirely accurate. His body's growth had been stunted and despite the fact that he was now 21 and wouldn't grow very much either way, his body's strength had been increased. He had added approximately 75 years to his own lifespan as Ryuk had confirmed. It was brilliant, really, how simple science could be when one was as determined as Raito had been.
Now, however, time—the time that Raito had dedicated to himself seeing as he was well on his way to becoming immortal—was being spent in front of a stack of papers, the statistics and cat scans staring at Raito in the face. Brain scans, MRIs, various tests on the newly developed nervous system, hidden just beneath L's new skin, all pointed to one thing.
Raito had done it.
A fully developed brain, filled with the very cells that may or may not have made L Lawliet special, was ready. Raito's gloves snapped onto his hands as he rushed around the laboratory, preparing the defibrillator and the gel and applying it to the metal paddles before setting them down at his table.
He was going to do this. He was going to give L a brain, kill him, and then bring him back to life.
He stared at the brain that was now sitting in fluids, the fully developed organ that would make or break his creation. How he'd even gotten this far wasn't beyond him but still, he was just so excited that he found it impossible to not look down at his glorious masterpiece of a brain and glow. His smile spread into that smirk he wore as L had slowly lost his life to a Death Note-Induced heart attack. He was going to bring L Lawliet, the greatest detective in the world, back from the dead.
He had already prepared L's head, having removed the top part of the skull and straightened the spine. The silicone tubes that were to attach the cerebral cord to spine and nervous system were in place and as he lowered the brain into the empty cavity, he took a deep breath and grinned down as everything fell into place.
It took him hours to connect everything together, the magnifying glasses he wore pinching uncomfortably at his nose. When he finally drilled the top of L's skull back into place, metal plates reinforcing the hold, he did so with such careful delicacy that he had almost seemed to be a tender, loving moment.
At completion, he stared down at the body of his enemy and decided it was time. It had taken nearly a year, approximately nine months—he had noticed that that timing was perfect; it almost seemed as if L was just being reborn—and now he'd have his reward.
The perfect skin he had formed from skin cells that belonged to someone, someone with the pseudonym of Beyond Birthday, that he'd found in one of the incubation units that were hidden within the back rooms of this laboratory, they were similar to L's. The description was similar and Raito had only hoped that they'd work. They did. The same pale skin was now stretched perfectly over the muscles that L now harbored. It had taken weeks but Raito had found eyes, brilliant eyes of black and slate gray that were round and open, dark and unseeing just as L's had been. He smiled at the way the newly formed skin had settled perfectly over as L's eyelids. Everything was just perfect.
The machines that were keeping L's organs running were all attached together, blood already running through his system. There was but one problem.
They hadn't begun working together yet.
It was one of those things Raito hadn't planned on. He had hoped that the organs would just fit together perfectly, pumping blood in sync with one another, running the body together as if they had been morphed together by God himself. It hadn't worked out that way. Without the brain, the most complex of the organs, it couldn't have possibly run by itself without an order to do so. Seeing as the brain was the only organ that was capable of giving out orders without the assistance of another organ and the fact that it had taken the longest to form, L's organs had yet to begin their comradeship.
Raito would have to stop L's heart, restart it, and then hope that the connections that now kept L's body together would be enough to keep him together. If L's heart failed to restart, the entire mission would be a total failure. The brain would have to send out orders for the heart to continue beating. If it didn't, everything would be moot. Another 'FAILURE' would be added to his list of L-related conquests. He would not stand for it.
With the paddles prepped and the body bare of any of the silicone and metal connectors that kept it alive, Raito shocked L.
Flat line.
Not deterred, Raito recharged the paddles and shocked him again to see the line spike before falling again. Now worried, he charged it again and pressed the paddles with force to L's chest.
Finally, a heart beat.
L's skin was nearly transparent, taking on a blue hue from the breath that his body hadn't been able to take. Raito saw the chest moving now, though, could feel the heart beat—strong and pumping—beneath his hand. He had succeeded. He had brought L back to life.
He was God.
Had he not looked at the DNA and the very essence of L's cells, he would have not taken to believing that he was a God because L's cells had to be mutant or something in order for L to have even survived so long. L was just weird. Anyone could have seen it, from the way he walked to the way he slept; all of it was just pure insanity for the average person. However, looking down at the beautiful specimen he had created—the transplanted head of hair that was just a few inches shorter than that of the original L's and just as dark, the pale skin, the eyelids that were a pale lavender from what looked like lack of sleep—he couldn't help but find the beauty within L's own very being. L was a masterpiece in himself; it wasn't surprising that Raito would be the only one to see it. After all, Raito—despite all arguments he would ever start over whether this was true or not—considered L to be his only real friend.
Raito sat beside the body and looked on, taking notes detachedly, never really not focusing on L.
--
He really should have expected it; L was really just a newborn, after all.
It just didn't seem right though, thinking of L as someone who wasn't intelligent. L was always smart in Raito's memories, always the perfect adversary. This L…he had something left to be desired. Not because he wasn't smart, not really. He just had to be taught. The old L never had to be taught.
L2 couldn't speak when he first woke and he looked confused and yet aware all at the same time. The garbled jumble that had fallen from his lips was in the same tone that L used but it wasn't nearly as monotonous. L2's voice sounded so much more emotional, much more wet in its dialogue than L's. Raito wasn't entirely sure which he preferred. He understood what Raito was saying though, which made things a bit easier.
L2 learned fast though, much like Raito expected L to have learned. The brain cells that had been developed were that of an older L after all, not at all a childlike one, despite the age of the cells. They were mature enough that Raito had no trouble training L2, giving him disks to listen to and memorize, to be quizzed on. He was told to watch videos so he would learn things and Raito would leave him alone for hours just for that purpose, so he would gain a sense of independence just like Raito had had as he was a child. Raito always had the upper hand, of course. His mind had already been trained and he could still learn more. L2 was limited to what Raito wanted him to learn –though Raito hardly held anything back from him; L2 needed knowledge, clearly displaying that when he finished reading textbooks after only hours of having it and wondering if there was another volume.
Raito held L2 at arms length, telling him to be independent and smart and to not screw up, never wanting to gain too much of a bond between himself and L2. He didn't want to be hung onto. L was never pathetic. He didn't hang on anyone; people had hung on him.
Things changed though. L2 had proven his intelligence by hacking into Raito's encrypted files and reading his long experiment analysis, the theories and the blueprints that made up his own body, and then he had found the picture of L, himself in essence and like any curious human would do, asked why he was the same as this person, even if he already knew. What he really wanted to know was why.
"You were created from L. You were designed from him," Raito said as he looked down at his Death Note, writing down names from the paper. There were few. L2 knew why but he never questioned that. It was really of little importance to him. The current matter held much more value in his opinion.
"I understand," L2 stated, "but why would I be created from him? In Raito-kun's notes, Raito-kun said that L couldn't have been trusted, that he was bad, evil for stopping justice. What makes me any different from him? Did Raito-kun just make me so he could kill me?" Raito looked up for the first time, looking at L2 with honest curiosity.
"What brought this on, L2?" Raito asked politely. L2 observed him momentarily. Raito wasn't worried, which was probably normal seeing as L2 wouldn't have attacked him. They could read each other well, L2 from Raito's words, the words he had heard from beyond the darkness before he had awoke, and Raito from L2's body language from when he had been unable to speak, in and out of unconsciousness.
"I wish to know where I came from. I am human, too, despite all the extra parts that are within me. Raito-kun created me from the original L. Why, if he was an enemy, would Raito-kun do that?"
Raito sighed and set down his pen, enclosing it in the folded spine of the Death Note. He had hoped he had encrypted his own files well enough but, as always, L2 got what he wanted.
"I…I created you as an experiment. I end lives everyday. It is only expected that I begin lives as well." L2 shook his head.
"Raito-kun is withholding information. That is a half-truth." Raito smiled and sighed again.
"Did I ever tell you about L?" L2 thought back and nodded. Raito had talked to him, shown him pictures even when he didn't need them. If he had wanted to see L, all he had to do was look in the mirror.
"L was…brilliant. He was hundreds of people, three of which were the three best detectives in the world," Raito said wistfully. "He came the closest to having me killed. I didn't even get to kill him myself. He was one of the most intellectual people that ever lived," Raito ended.
"So Raito-kun brought me to life…because he died," L2 surmised. Raito shook his head negatively before pausing and nodding. For the first time, L2 could see that Raito looked a bit confused, possibly by his own answer.
"I suppose…L grew on me a bit. Once I had the time to think about it, L had been buried much farther into me than I had thought. He was a friend to me, despite the preconceived classification of enemies." Raito relinquished a small grin at L2 only to see that he was looking away, the pad of his thumb pressed into his lips as he crouched onto the metal chair that was set beside Raito's "justice table".
"Hmm….Raito-kun shouldn't have brought me to life," L2 mumbled thoughtfully. Raito looked at him in surprise.
"Why shouldn't I have?" L2 looked back at him, wide eyes directly on Raito's.
"Raito-kun should know that L2 is not L. We are not the same person. Genetically, maybe so; but like any twin or clone, there are differences. If I were L, I wouldn't care for Raito-kun. Raito-kun was the one who brought me to life, so I have to care." Raito sighed. He hadn't expected this conversation to ever come up.
Standing, Raito walked to L2's side and noisily turned the chair around to him, the metal of the chair's legs screeching against the floor.
Looking at L2, Raito saw the resemblance. The skin, the hair that had grown those last two inches in that feathery mess, the dark eyes circled with that light lavender that came from lack of sun and sleep; how could he not be?
"You are L," Raito said quietly. He had not been this close to L2, not since he had placed those glorious slate-black eyes into those once-empty orifices. The eyelashes that were taken from his hair…they fluttered thickly with every wide blink he took, black as night against the lavender sundown of his cheekbone.
Raito was good at hiding things, particularly from himself. Like the fact that he was really just a murderer that killed people with a notebook and he wasn't really a god, that was one secret that he kept from himself. Another: he had been horribly attracted to L and L2. It was clear from the way he had pulled his fifth-grade-boy attitude on L2 by keeping him at a distance and occasionally insulting him to get him to work more, how he sometimes watched L2 longingly while L2 was busy practicing his fighting stances and when he was eating his desired food, sugar, one of the many things he had gotten from L.
When he leaned his head closer, L2 just stared in curiosity, genuinely wondering what Raito planned on doing. From the movies and books he'd read, there were many things Raito could do. For one, he could knock their heads together, though that would have just been idiotic, he could lean their heads together in a brotherly fashion, he could speak to L2 in a whisper to create a moment that should be remembered between them but never brought up again, or he could….
Raito's lips descended on L2's and L2's mind reeled. He had read and heard about this. Kisses…they were a sign of intimacy. As Raito's tongue lapped at his bottom lip, pushing between his lips and licking at his teeth for entrance, L2 recognized what he was supposed to do. His mouth opened and Raito's tongue touched his own.
It was wet and L2 didn't respond much. He could only assume that Raito was taking his affections and placing them on himself only because there was no one else around. Raito didn't really give him rules; he'd never told him what to do in this sort of situation when Raito lost himself. He'd never done it before.
Still, L2 was human and instinct—though it didn't rule him—knew more about what to do than he did. He allowed his own tongue to move along with Raito's, the wet appendage performing a strange, slow dance in his own mouth, pushing and pulsing against Raito's. It wasn't bad; no, it was quite pleasant. Raito had such an interesting flavor about him, minty from his toothpaste, bitter from his blandly unsweetened tea, spicy from something that had to have been in his food—peppercorns? Curry?—and something that was human, moist and warm, that pulled all the tones of previously ingested foods into an intoxicatingly wonderful taste that left L2 wanting more.
Raito groaned as L2's hands went to his hair and tugged him closer. The steel sides of the chair were uncomfortable to grasp and hold on to, so Raito tugged L2 up and held him tightly to his chest by putting his arms around his waist. L2's tongue moved against his own in an erratic rhythm, inexperienced and sloppy but oh so sweet. His hands were so entangled into Raito's hair that Raito could only assume that he was enjoying what was happening. He allowed his hands to glide under L2's loose white shirt, feeling the sharp shoulder blades and the ridges of a perfectly constructed spine beneath his fingertips. He'd always given L2 privacy, never really looking at any particular part of him more than another; it was part of his lying façade, the side of himself that he hid from himself. He hadn't wanted to really admit that he had wanted to really just look at L2's backside for so long. Now, he could feel L2. L2 was human, just as L had been, and that meant that L2 wasn't at fault when he shivered against Raito as wandering hands explored his backside, sliding from his shoulders down to his butt and back up again, grabbing and groping in wonderfully random combinations.
Raito pushed and stumbled with L2 in his arms, still kissing and sucking madly at his lips, until they reached his room. He'd been subconsciously longing for this moment for months, maybe even years. He wanted it done properly, even if they went at it fast. It had to be in a bed. Later, when L2 was prepared and more ready, they could christen the rest of the home that Raito owned, the one he had taken over as part of his tyranny.
L2 was overcome with some sort of need, some sort of want that he knew he just had to have or there would be hell to pay. There was a burning in his veins; his heart was beating too fast and too lightly in his chest. There were inklings of thoughts shooting around his brain, surrounded and clouded in the haze of red that flooded his mind when he tried to focus on anything other than Raito. The latter was sucking on his neck, pulling the hair at the back of his head so he could have more surface area to take over. Little nips and licks were attacking his neck and collarbone; L2 questioned them. He had read up on this, he was sure. What was their purpose? He didn't know—he was so young, still—but he did know that they felt wonderful and sent heat down to his thighs. He released moans and groans and whimpers that he never thought he would release unless he was fighting against Raito in the designated area that he had for training. There was just so much heat…it was so powerful…
In the back of Raito's head, he was glad he had put a metal plate on the top and backside of L2's skull. As he had rushed and tumbled to get themselves to his room, he had run into the edge of the door, knocking L2 on the head. L2 didn't seem bothered at all. Rather, he tried more insistently to get Raito closer to him that humanly possible, almost as if he were trying to get their skin to mesh together until it formed one being. As much as Raito would have loved to argue with that possibility in as scientific a manner as was humanly possible for him, he was much too distracted. L2's shirt had somehow come off in their fit of groping hands and his strong, sinewy muscles had managed to break to the buttons off of Raito's shirt. His hands were back in Raito's hair and he was practically purring as Raito continued his consistent ministrations on his neck. There were red marks all over the pale skin from Raito's teeth and tongue and he grinned as he lightly massaged an untouched portion of skin with his lips. As he pushed L2 onto his bed, his dark hair splaying against the silken sheets in feathery ebony tendrils, he looked unnatural, like something that couldn't possibly have been created by Raito. As if God himself had created him…
L2 watched Raito's chocolate-brown eyes as they gazed down on him in wonder. L2 wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. His cheeks felt even hotter but he had no idea why. He squirmed when Raito didn't take any further action other than staring. Raito shook his head lightly and climbed on top of him, his hips and legs placed fittingly between L2's. He murmured, "L…"
Maybe it was annoyance or anger that L2 felt, but he quietly replied, "L2 is not L." Raito sighed lightly, his eyes half-lidded in lust. With a tilted head, he captured L2's mouth, not caring to acknowledge what he had just said. L2 was L and yet he wasn't. It didn't matter to Raito. He was attracted to both L2 and L. L2 was here now and he was in Raito's bed as Raito finally allowed his attraction to seep out of him and Raito would take advantage of it. L2 cared for him, too. Raito cared for L2, probably more than he had cared for L. After all, L2 wasn't out to have him executed for murder. No; L2 was here because Raito had made him, created him with his own two hands like the God he was. He was here for Raito. That's all that mattered.
"I don't care who you are, L2," Raito murmured against L2's lips. "I want you."
The Seven Deadly Sins came to L2's mind. Lust had been one of the most powerful of them all. He didn't believe any of the sins were truly deadly on their own without a motive and a conscience behind them (he partook in the gluttony factor of those sins either way whenever he ate) but he knew that this was lust he was feeling. The heat in his loins had to be some sort of sign. His pants, always loose and comfortable, felt tighter somehow and every time he moved against Raito, his hips rubbed against Raito's to cause a wonderful friction that made L2's groin rub against the rough edge of his jeans.
Raito used his legs to push down L2's jeans as he sat up and unzipped his own once-pressed slacks. He knew L2 preferred not to wear underwear—it was one of things his subconscious always reminded him of when he saw L2 bend over to pick something up or when he crouched on a chair so his shirt rode up slightly and his jeans lowered—but he had never seen L2 with an erection. It was quite a sight, seeing the coarse black hair that grew surrounding an impressively long staff, wide in girth and yet so untouched. He pushed his ruined shirt off his shoulders and stood, removing his jeans and silk boxers. L2 was looking at him too; his face was red from the moaning and heady breathing that had just taken place in their activities. L2's gaze lowered until it reached Raito's own erection and if possible, his cheeks grew even redder and he squirmed. Raito had never felt the need to teach L2 of embarrassment, really. He was never going to be released out into public anyway. The only company he would have would be Raito until he saw that it was necessary that things changed. For instance, if L2 were to ever grow bored of the things he read over and over again, of the atmosphere that surrounded him…
Of Raito. Of God….
Raito shivered at the very thought but didn't allow that to hinder his movements as he crouched down to get a closer look at L2's staff. At the tip was a pearl of the essence that Raito had secretly wanted to taste for months. He palmed it and moved back slightly when L2's hips bucked. Flushed and needy, Raito led his mouth down the erection and licked the blue vein that showed clearly through pale skin, pinkish and purple from the boiling blood that had been pumping through L2 for so long.
L2 moaned and clenched his fists around the duvet beside his head. He had never felt this before, whatever this was. His hips were trying to buck upwards, to reach into the pure wet heat that engulfed it but hot hands were pushing them down. He whimpered and groaned when Raito bobbed his head up and down; sucking lightly on the head of his sex, his eyes locked on L2's the entire time. When Raito stopped, just as L2 felt a coiling heat in his groin just pause its stretching and he whimpered in pain. The heat, it was scorching him. How could Raito stop? He had never been this cruel before.
Raito wasn't done yet. His own erection was painful and it just needed to be in the heat that he was sure L2's body provided. The fine specimen below him was sweaty and flushed and fully aroused, practically begging for more. Carefully, Raito grabbed some hand lotion from his bedside table and coated his fingers before placing one at L2's untouched entrance and pushing in.
L2 noticed immediately when there was an uncomfortable stinging coming from his rear end. It was impossible to miss, even with Raito's pleasant kisses to his thighs.
"Stop…no…not good…" L2 whimpered at the pressure and stinging of another finger venturing further into him. Raito had run experiments on him before, testing his heart and mind and endurance to ensure that he would stay alive for as long as it was estimated. With all the artificial parts in him, there was always the possibility of a malfunction of some sort. Some of the tests were painful, but L2 had never been particularly this vulnerable before. Raito was doing this for an alternate reason, something that had nothing to do with his lifespan or his existence. It was just L2 and Raito, nothing other than that.
Raito cooed soothing words to L2 as he kissed his thighs one last time and lay between his thighs again, his fingers still pumping in and out of L2's tight entrance, the warmth so intoxicating.
"Be patient," Raito whispered into L2's ear, "or it'll hurt more. Relax," he finished as he nipped gently as L2's ear. L2's eyes widened slightly before shutting again as he nodded. Raito smiled into L2's collarbone and pulled his fingers away from L2's entrance. He arranged his body to a perfect alignment with L2's body and looked down at him as he pushed in. L2's back arched as he cried out, gripping Raito's biceps in a tight grip that pained Raito enough for him to wince as he gasped and moaned. The tight heat…it was so much better than he had expected…so much more…
Slowly, he pushed in and out of L2, glad that he had left enough lubrication at his entrance to ease the unnecessary pain of a dry entrance. They were slow, powerful thrusts until Raito brushed against something inside of L2, the prostate no doubt, that caused L2 to arch off the bed until he grabbed Raito's shoulders and pulled Raito into a deep kiss, L2 moaning and whimpering louder than Raito thought possible.
L2 had never felt anything like what he had felt inside of him. The bursting of something that couldn't have been natural, something wonderful and ecstasy-inducing, it had to be unnatural. Still, he didn't mind feeling it so he bucked his hips to meet Raito's new, fast, powerful rhythm, practically screaming into Raito's neck every time he hit just the perfect angle.
Raito left L2's arms tighten even more, felt the way their hips were moving together to perform this perfect cycle. It was chemical, really. One reaction set of another and another and yet there was no catalyst that was unaffected. Maybe L had been the catalyst. He had given Raito something to want, something to long for. When L died, Raito wanted him back so he spent all his spare effort on forming this perfect being beneath him, smart and strong and beautiful enough for Raito to want enough to keep alive.
L2 tightness clenched and loosened and clenched again as his erection spurted more of the pearly white fluid that only just topped his staff earlier. Milking Raito of his own climax, his tensed arms fell from his shoulders as he once again splayed across the bed, beautiful and angelic and just wasted with pleasure. With a final weak thrust, Raito pulled out of L2 and collapsed beside him, warm and buzzing from the entire ordeal.
L2 wasn't sure of what to do now. He felt like doing something after such a satisfying experience, something that was simple yet very hard to do because he was unsure. Then Raito turned to him and wrapped his arms around L2's waist and pulled him close, kissing his lips gently and burying his head in his neck. L2 sighed contently. Yes, that seemed right.
Raito didn't mind that L2 was really just a copy of the original L. The original L hadn't done anything to show affection towards him other than claim that Raito was his first friend. L2 had been on Raito's side from the beginning, there even when Raito told him to go entertain himself or to go read and learn whatever he had to. L2 was special. He was the perfect being to have along side him. He didn't mind if it had all started with L. L2 and L were one in the same. L2 just had a different name and a longer life to live. Again, it was chemical. L2 and L were the same chemical. There was just more of L2 that was available for Raito.
He could live with that. So could L2 if his cuddling and hugging were any consolation.
A/N: Any questions concerning any confusion or plot-related items should be directed to me through a review or PM (personal message). I appreciate all opinions.
-Ex