Okay, this is extremely experimental. ; I hope it's okay. And it's only rated a light M. Be honest with your comments, please.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or anything related to it.
"See you tomorrow, Dad," he says.
"Yes, son," says Mr. Yagami. His exhaustion is evident in every wrinkle and line visible on his face. An awkward silence ensues as Mr. Yagami looks sadly at the chain linking his son and L, and Raito looks at his father, eyes giving away his own tiredness. Finally, he speaks.
"You should leave, Dad. Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a late one again."
"Yes, of course." His father gives one last lingering glance, full of pain, at the handcuffs, opens his mouth as if he were about to say something, and seems to decide against it. Instead, he nods stiffly at Ryuuzaki and steps outside of the door.
"Well, we should get back to researching, Raito-kun," says Ryuuzaki, speech slightly muffled by his thumb's position against his teeth. Raito is not worried. This is how it works every night. He nods and they take their seats at the computers.
"Ryuuzaki, I'm not Kira, you know," says Raito, in a conversational tone that provides an odd contrast to his words.
"Actually, Raito-kun, I do not know, which is the precise reason why we are handcuffed together," L informs him.
"People are being murdered, Ryuuzaki, and I'm obviously not doing it. How can you still call me Kira?"
"The evidence suggests that, regardless of whether you are murdering criminals right now, you used to," says L.
"I'm NOT Kira," says Raito angrily, and he slams his hand down on L's shoulder, his fingertips digging deep indents into the other man's arm. L barely flinches. He is used to it. They both are. This does not stop Raito from being frustrated at L's lack of reaction, however, and he grabs his other shoulder and forcefully twists the man to face him.
"Do you hate me, L?" he hisses, using the name of his detective alias instead of his conversational one. A pause, and then the words come.
"No."
The simple answer makes him angry. "I need you to hate me," hisses Raito, pressing his lips down onto L's in a harsh and violent way. Hot flesh melds with cool, but the cool is quickly engulfed by the hot, and Raito shoves his tongue into L's mouth, at the same time sliding his hands under the thin cloth of his shirt. The soft moan from L's mouth drives Raito to pull him off the chair and onto the floor.
Raito's hot fingers roam over L's cold body. The shirt comes off, now the pants; L is beginning to react now. He lets out another moan and pulls Raito's shirt over his head.
With every new movement, every spark of fire ignited between skin, Raito can feel an emotion growing; an emotion which he is beginning to wonder if he has mislabeled as hate. A burning within his chest, a melting feeling in his lower abdomen, the feeling of all of his senses seeming heightened and dulled at once around L.
A bead of sweat rolls down L's chest and Raito licks it away with his tongue. He brings his face up to directly meet the other man's and smashes their lips together once more, this time biting L's lip and pulling on his hair. Pulling away, he hisses into L's ear, "I need you."
Losing his cool, L hisses, "I need you too."
Raito continues, biting L's earlobe. "I need you…to hate me."
Their clothes continue to come off in a frenzy, as flesh melds with flesh, hot with cool, eccentricity with seemed normality, perceptions of evil and good; lines blur, muscles tighten, blood is drawn, hearts are beating, mercy becomes cruelty, and as they both reach ecstasy, and Raito hisses L's name and L yells, "Kira!" he doesn't know who he is anymore. He believes L, he believes that he is Kira, and he is in love with L.
They collapse onto the bed, limbs tangled and legs sticky.
Raito is in love with his failure.
L is in love with his downfall.
And they are both in love with hate.