AN: It's Erin again. This will just be a collection of drabbles focused on LXLight or LightXL, whichever semeXuke dynamic that you prefer. This is mostly so I can try to get used to writing Death Note stuff...since writing it scares the crap out of me because DN is AMAZINGNESS! Anyway...I hope you enjoy this. It was written in class when I was bored.
Drabble One
L never told him. Theatrical elements were, of course, Light's specialty. He wasn't stupid either, and the risk was too high. If Light did know, he would ask questions which L hadn't bothered to answer to himself. No matter that Light would undoubtedly use the information against him. It simply didn't make sense, and he wouldn't face Light or admit anything until he understood it.
Maybe, if he knew why, he could tell. Maybe, if it wouldn't be vulnerability, he could tell. Maybe, if he wasn't L and Light was Kira, he could tell him.
But that would take the fun out of it.
"L?" Light's sleep-coated voice interrupted him, and he slowly looked up from the laptop. The younger man had fallen asleep in an awkward position on their bed, his back pressed against the headboard. Gingerly, he tilted his neck and winced. L waited for light to continue, his fingers no longer flying against the keyboard.
Light tossed him a glare, but it was a glare he had gotten used to. This happened every night—he'd be working, Light would fall asleep, wake up disgruntled, and force L to sleep. Or, make him shut off the laptop and pretend to sleep.
"Turn it off," Light grated.
Maybe it was the domesticity. L never thought he would enjoy such pointless habits, the comfortable air that fell between them.
"Light-kun, I have to—"
"No. You've worked enough," Light said, firmer. And then he turned off the laptop, dismissively, succinctly, and snatched it from his hands. His eyes fixed onto L again, telling him to sleep, to pretend to sleep. For Light's sake.
"Goodnight, Light-kun" he said, and promptly threw the sheets over himself and turned away. Light slipped under as well, facing away from him.
The night seemed longer without a computer to occupy his mind but eventually the tell-tale deep breathing filled the room. Now, while Light was asleep, was the perfect moment to add the tense, beautiful theatrical element. He should roll over and confess all his sins.
Except he didn't believe in sin. Not really.
So he didn't pres close to the murderous boy, didn't whisper in his ear. He didn't tell him he was in love.
He just shut his eyes and pretended to sleep, carefully ignoring the boy on the other end of the bed.
