Wipe away my tears
AN: warning, character death. Boy love. But no love, love. Just... love...
He woke up with a start, trying to make himself believe everything was okay, but of course, it wasn't. How naïve and foolish to try and lie to even himself, when he was constantly reminded of the fact that himself, was all he had left. Sleeping forms and wanna-be love could not be counted as something you hold on to. Even though he had to sometimes. They weren't stable and would make him fall. But this is only when he lets himself believe they're good enough. Which, of course, they're not. Hard as they might try to be.
The chain rattles like big nothingness as he gets out of bed and stretches. Cameras follow his every move and he looks at them, apparently blank, but actually screaming you won't get me, so fuck o- his mind wanders to where it shouldn't and he shakes his head.
It is just not good enough.
When he reached the bathroom he needs to outstretch his arm and leave the door wide open before he's able to pee. Honestly. Yesterday the other side of the chain was shaking him at five to wake up, now it was eight and there was no movement. Maybe he's died. No. We don't think about that, he reminds himself, if we do, he notices. Even when he sleeps. He knows. He always knows.
But it just won't do.
The dream that night had been particularly rough and left a not-so-mini tent in his trousers, but he'd learnt to fix that. Sharing a room and bed with another person is not a good time to get a hard on from dreaming about said person. Definitely not when 'person' is not remotely into you, and 'person' is emotionally incapable of feeling a thing. That just doesn't work. And even though he couldn't make the dreams go away, he could make the not-so-mini tent leave. Matsuda naked. That always did the trick.
He knew that he wouldn't be able to brush his teeth. The chain wouldn't stretch far enough. He considers waking Sleeping Beauty, but he doesn't need to. As he flushes the toilet, Sleeping Beauty waltzes in, empty nothing is his eyes, and messy hair everywhere.
"Good morning Yagami-kun." He says, just sounding as he always does.
Nothing takes the pain away.
"Good morning." Light moves to brush his teeth. The other sits by the sink and waits, patience not being his virtue, but he tries.
That hurts even more.
The way he always tries. Pretending to care. It drives Light mad. He toys with emotions that aren't his to toy with. Plays with hearts that aren't his to pla- well that's a lie. Light's heart is obviously his. There was no need to lie about that. Though he did and he pretended it was okay and well, obviously, it wasn't, but he'd been through that already. One time is enough for today, thank you, he saluted himself and glared at the man next to him.
There was a distant look and he seemed to be thinking. But not today, Light thought, today is not my day. I'm not being caring. Yet he couldn't help but ask: "everything okay?" To the man that made him be not okay.
The other merely shrugged and without a word, left for the monitor-room, inevitably pulling Light behind him. Light didn't say another thing all day, unless it was something intelligent and not even remotely related to anything he felt pounding in his chest.
No matters of the heart.
When he breathes, Light thinks, I'm just fine. How can I kill him when I need him to breathe so desperately? He shakes it off, thinking that he will be fine, better, when the other eventually dies. Feeling like he needs him to breathe, is foolish and trivial and a lie. Though he knows deep inside, that is the real lie.
The next day he wakes up with the distant sound of water clattering. This time it was the other man that had needed to empty his bladder, and Light turned around, feeling quite perverted, in the aftermath of his dream, and being sleepy enough to act like it. Peeking through his sleep-drunk eyes, he could see the other man standing up, hair a mess as always, loose trousers resting by his ankles and the old shirt he wore to sleep in, not long enough to hide the tail bone. His skin was pale, white, unmarred. Even his inner thighs, and the pits of his knees. It was all so unbearably perfect. Light turned around after the other had pulled up his trousers, and he'd gotten perfect view of… everything.
"Still sleeping, Yagami-kun?" Came the other's voice.
"Hmm," he just grunted, turning around and looking at him. Just big, black eyes. Nothing more. No beautiful-ness. Just… unmarred white skin too perfect for words, and his- "not really."
But it was a free day, after all. Probably the first and last one they'd ever had. But everyone's face had pleaded for release and for once, the master-detective had been merciful. And Light'd be dammed if he'd do anything but sit on his lazy arse all day. It was his day off too you know. And even though being lazy wasn't Light's thing, he would manage, thank you.
If he could just let him be.
He turned away from the Angel-of-darkness, and looked at the wall. He didn't need to know. He didn't want to do anything but be alone. Or… go to the gym! That'd be nice. Gym de-stressed him. But he couldn't. He was handcuffed to the object of his desire, object of my desire? As if…- no way he'd let him join him at the gym. You went to the gym to relax, do strenuous exercises and come home exhausted. Not to be handcuffed to a man. It just doesn't work that way.
But it's hard.
"I wonder why Yagami-kun is mad with me?" The other said.
Why does he always fucking know? It wasn't fair. There wasn't anything he could hide from the other man. And it just wasn't fair.
"I'm not mad." Light simply said.
"I always thought you were a good liar," the man sounded pensively. "I need to reconsider, I'm afraid."
Light grunted but refrained. He knew Ryuuzaki was looking for a reaction, he refused to give him that sort of satisfaction. The other kind of satisfaction though...-
"If you are not mad, then why do you not look at me?"
Light thought of all the childish things he could say. He felt a strong need to be childish. Ryuuzaki just always... pissed him off, one way or another. But using childish means would only be handing him victory, so Light just said: "why do I have to look at you?" which, he decided, sounded not as childish as it could've.
"It is polite to do so when someone is talking to you, Yagami-kun."
"Then stop talking to me." Light decided that, yes, maybe he was indeed pissed. And, yes, Ryuuzaki could know. He didn't give a shit anymore. He was sick of wanting and not getting, and sick of hiding but being seen anyway.
And it's too confusing.
"Yagami-kun..." Ryuuzaki started. Light shot him and angry glare.
"Let me be," Light said. "Just let me be."
"You know I cannot do that Yagami-kun," he pointed at the chains. "We are chained together, after all. Now, do tell me why you are upset with me."
"I'd rather not," Light sat up straight, looking at the detective. He needed to not think about it, and be gone, or something. "What will we be doing today?" He asked, noticing too late how inviting that sounded.
He restrained the urge to blush, but Ryuuzaki simply said: "we have breakfast." And walked away.
Light wished to cherish hope that he would soon forget this conversation ever happened. But he wouldn't, since he's L and he remembers these things, and makes them come back to hunt you later.
After that it gets worse. His thought all evolve around L, no matter how hard he tries, but he can't get enough. It's too much, and yet it doesn't suffice. L eats cake without saying anything; it's always like that. He always expects Light to do with cake too, but Light isn't like that. He can't live of cake. And they fight all the time—and Light always thinks about how he doesn't want to. But he has too, because L always pushes him, closer and closer to breaking and falling apart, into a million pieces.
And all Light really wants is for L to hold him and tell him it's okay—it would still be not okay, but that would just go unmentioned. There're so many things they leave between them, never to be brought up again. Why couldn't this be one of them? Why could Light not just tell L he loves him and they could continue being the two opponents they were meant to be?
When L dies Light tries not to let people notice—
But it eats me up inside.
He behaves and blinks away the tears—
I'll let them fall on the inside.
He watches as the orbs stare back—in shock, but also with something of love—
I'll just pretend not to love you back.
And when they close—
It's too late now.
He screams—
But in reality I call your name.
And they all freak out—
We'll be together soon.
And what no one seems to get—except for Light—is that L can still wipe away his tears from the inside. Without even trying all that hard.
And Light decides that maybe L not breathing isn't that bad—he can surely do that for the both of them, because really, he's Light. That's bound to count for something.
But then they both can't breathe and Light still can't be damned to care. Because this isn't so bad, and they're just in a place where they can both be by the other's side.
Fin.
AN: So... that was... weird? Review and let me know!