A/N: Wow, this turned out shorter than I planed. Oh well. So the idea for this little ficlet came to me in a dream. Seriously. What became the first line of this ran through my head a split second before I woke up, resulting in me going crazy all day at school because I wanted to go home and write. I screwed up my math quiz thanks to this. So hopefully it's not too crappy, but if it is, please let me know. As much as I adore getting all the nice reviews (which, by the way, I must thank you all for) don't be afraid to say something not so nice. And on that promising note, I present to you Forbidden Indulgences.
To L, Light is the most luscious treat of all.
Nothing tastes quite as ambrosial as the insides of Light's mouth when L kisses him and their tongues engage in a savory dance of lust and desire. The tantalizing sensation of the younger man writhing and gasping beneath him in bed is more enjoyable than the most sapid chocolate mousse. The long, drawn-out moan that emits from his nectarous lips wraps around L and fills him with more satisfaction than any slice of lemon cake ever could. The sweetest strawberry cheesecake could never rival the soft skin slicked with sweat where Light's neck meets his collarbone.
L likes to taste all over Light's body, sampling the delicacies of his pink nipples, as hard as lemon drops. He likes to drag his tongue down the taught, smooth planes of Light's chest, likes to lick the inside of his tender thighs. It is quite delectable to feel his whole body shudder as L finally captures his engorged member into the wetness of his eager mouth. The cloying taste of Light deep around his tongue is richer than the finest Belgium chocolates.
"You," the detective whispers into the shell of the ear he's nibbling, "are by far the most luscious."
"Haa… y-you make me sound like one of your sweets," Light pants into L's neck.
Aren't you? L wants to say. But he just smiles and drives himself deeper into the young man's body, and enjoys the sapid sensation of Light arching into him.
There have been times though, when L has seen something darker, something sinister simmering in the milk chocolate pools of Light's eyes. When pulses of power and bloodlust dance across his delicate features, like a surge of dark chocolate. Yes, he decides, he is exactly like dark chocolate. He can taste the addictive bitter sweetness on Light's lips. He can feel it in each breath, flowing through the young man's veins like heavy molten lava. Those are the nights when Light refuses to be dominated, when his nails carve paths of blood down L's back and his teeth latch onto his neck in a growl of blood, lust, and defiance. Those are the nights when L, lying under Light's furious body, truly believes that the seemingly innocent boy is Kira. He reminds himself that some honeyed things are merely a coating for the acidic interior.
And yet, these nights are not enough to keep L away. If anything, they drive him to keep coming back, to want to savor deeper and deeper into Light, until he's tasted all the way down to below the sugary surface. He wants to caress every bit of him between his lips. He is like Eve and her delicious apple; he is unable to stop himself from devouring what he knows could be his downfall.
It would be appropriate, L concludes as he lays curled against his sleeping lover, that if I die, I will be killed by love, the sweetest and most forbidden indulgence of all.
