His Justice
T
LxMello
Death Note isn't mine. The following drabble is the reason why. XD.
Mello wasn't L's friend. L didn't have friends. Mello was a potential successor, not a friend, but that never stopped L from caring about him, from observing him more than the others solely because he wanted to make sure the young blond was alright.
It never stopped L from listening, or from spending more time with Mello on his visits although he knows that logically, Near deserves equal or more attention. The thought disturbed him, honestly. He usually had relatively good control over his duties.
Listening turned dangerous, it turned oh-so dangerous.
But it seemed like a crime to tell the intelligent young teen he didn't know what he wanted. L knew that Mello damn well knew exactly what he wanted.
It seemed like a crime to say no to such flawless testimonies.
It would be a crime to refuse someone who needs him so badly. That's how L justifies the unjustifiable. That's the excuse he repeats to himself as every move that he makes elicits a satisfying moan from the young one.
This is for Mello. It isn't because L wants it. It isn't.
His mantra, his mantra through every kiss, whisper, every time the blond cries out, every time he has to hold back a moan himself.
The façade always falls afterwards, watching the exhausted successor. Mello's justice matters too much to him. It meant far too much. L didn't have friends, but it didn't stop him from caring.