A/N I would just like to apologize for anyone whose head might explode from the fluff bunnies.

Oh, there was never a Kira, L and Light met each other at a relatively young age. EPICALLY LONG.

EDIT 6/7/11 I changed the title because it only took me about six hours to realize that the last one made me look really illiterate. Which I like to think that I am not, but... You know.

Disclaimer: Sadly no.

L Lawliet had acknowledged a long time ago that he was a member of that special brand of geniuses who didn't actually have any particular skills(well, unless one accepted the remarkable ability to tie cherry stems into knots with nothing but a decidedly agile tongue). So, in his final year at high school and with multiple colleges willing to take him into their loving arms, he realized that he had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

He pondered this, drinking his double shot, caramel frappuccino on a park bench, surrounded by sakura trees in full bloom, knees drawn up tightly to his chest. The cool, spring morning air was nipping at him slightly through his thin white sweater and old, ratty jeans but he couldn't be bothered to move into warmer surroundings. Not when he was faced with such a crucial dilemma, one that he even felt vaguely concerned about.

He had a strong sense of justice – but police officers had an unpleasant amount of paperwork and L never appreciated meaningless bureaucratic demands.

He was a good liar with a strong sense of justice – but, generally, politicians had to at least be in their thirties to have some respect and L didn't want to wait a few dozen years for his genius to be acknowledged.

He was excellent at most sciences and maths – but he didn't have any particular desire to be a scientist or a…mathematician. Whatever it was that they did.

L bit his thumb mournfully. If only he had had a bit more direction as a child. As it happened, being the illegitimate child of a drug-addicted, seventeen year old prostitute and, after being abandoned by her, an orphan, passed around for years and years, all over Japan, hadn't quite allowed for him to find any particular…niche.

And, when he finally found a nice family that accepted him, that had managed to look past all the oddities and unnatural eyes and wild hair and ghostly skin… well, they weren't particularly imaginative or supportive people and…

Well, regardless. He had been very grateful to them. There had been an orphanage/boarding school in the UK that had been asking for custody of him at the time and he – he had – there were certain reasons that he couldn't – that he hadn't wanted to –

"Hey."

-leave.

He looked over at the young man, dressed in a red sweater and uncharacteristically crumpled khaki pants, sitting gracefully down beside him, a thin tremble of pleasure traveling though his stomach.

"How are you Light-kun?" He quirked his lips in a thin mockery of a smile, peering at his friend through his wild, black bangs and tightening his finger tips around his coffee.

Light Yagami smiled back, a small, sincere little thing that made his pretty, milk chocolate colored eyes widen around the edges. "I'm fine. And yourself?"

L had met Light Yagami in the 6th Grade while in gym class. He had immediately cultivated an intense and profound hatred for him. The boy had been outstandingly popular, creative, and gifted, blessed with looks, intelligence and athletic ability – and was completely, utterly arrogant. Perhaps he had a right to be, being as he had never failed at anything in his life, but it was still utterly exasperating, especially as he had the unfortunate habit of arguing with L about everything -

It was an unmistakably strange experience – to meet someone as intelligent as himself but with a completely different worldview, someone so fundamentally opposite of himself – yet exactly the same.

They'd been helplessly drawn to each other, like two meteors on a collision course. Light had been fascinated by the strange boy who didn't bow and grovel to him every time he batted his eyelashes, a very foreign experience for him at the time. Likewise, L had been captivated by the unconsciously perfect life the boy had; Light was popular, athletic, and intelligent, with two adoring parents, and an adorable little sister that he doted on. (L, on the other hand, who had only just found a house with a relatively normal couple, had lived with drug addicts, alcoholics, abusive men, abusive women, and everything in between.)

Two halves of a whole, people said when they watched them arguing or playing tennis or working on far too advanced homework together.

Maybe it was because nothing in L's life had ever been stable before. Maybe it was because he had been so used to loneliness that he hadn't even known that he felt it and Light was the strongest connection he had ever made. Maybe it was because, as they grew up, Light just became more and more brilliant, more and more fascinating, the one puzzle that L could never solve, an endless paradox – charismatic but distant, warm but cruel, strong but hopelessly vulnerable –, or maybe it was simply because Light was Light, but –

But.

Whatever the reason was, L had fallen in love with him, despite the brat being the most egotistical person he had ever met, despite the fact that they couldn't go five minutes without wanting to punch the other in the face, and despite the fact that Light had slept with almost every student worth knowing at their school.

The whole situation was where Fate (not that L actually believed in such a thing) had really, truly, utterly, and bitchily screwed him.

Light didn't have low self-esteem – in fact, he was usually pretty pleased with himself for one reason or another – but, for some reason that L never quite grasped (though he could venture a guess that was probably more accurate than anyone else's), he had reached a level of promiscuity usually only observed in people who had suffered severe emotional or physical abuse.

But Light had experienced neither of those. Light was just a brilliant, sheltered, confused, little boy that L really should have known better than to love.

"I am well, Light-kun," He decided, after a brief moment of assessing his current level of contentment.

"Why are you out so early?"

"I am an insomniac, Light-kun. A better question would be to ask why you are out so early."

"I…ah," he averted his eyes, towards the pavement, "I – uh, I spent the night at someone's house but I needed to go home and get my stuff before class started," His elegant cheeks flushed with color, and for a fraction of a moment he almost looked guilty, before abruptly changing the subject. "So, the sleeping pills aren't working?"

There was a familiar, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something was eating away at him from the inside. He ignored it, but there was a persistent niggling at the back of his mind, quick, terrible images flashing before his eyes before he could stop them-

Light closing his eyes and tilting his face for some faceless person to kiss him; Light on his knees, mouth wrapped around someone else's cock, slowly and sensually moving his head; Light's mile-long legs stretched open, his pink lips parted and panting, head thrown back, as some faceless person moved between his thighs –

"I didn't like them," he said quietly, turning his face away from the auburn haired student, and drawing his knees tighter against his chest. He rested his chin on the shelf they created, his untamable black hair creating a curtain around his face. "They slowed my thinking process."

"It probably takes some time to get used to them."

"That was not the problem."

He stiffened when Light suddenly scooted closer, lifting his hands to gently set on L's cheeks, sending little bolts of electricity through his skin, and pulled his face towards him.

L's abnormally-wide eyes grew even larger at their proximity, Light's pretty face barely half a foot away.

For once he was deeply thankful for his pale, colorless pallor, as it didn't allow blushing, though he could feel his eyes bugging out more than they usually did.

"Look at these eyes," Light sighed, thumbs gently tracing the bruise-like shadows beneath his unblinking eyes. "You're going to kill yourself if you don't sleep."

Not if you get there first, Light-kun.

L pulled away and stood up, tearing away from Light's warm hands and soft touches, quashing a desperate yearning to slip his arms around the other boy and pull him against his chest and just – just –

Just nothing. It was pointless to think on things like that.

"I will walk you to your home, Light-kun. I'm assuming you have cake there?"

(linebreak)

School was, as usual, a mixture of uselessness and unpleasantness.

L was universally ignored by everyone besides Light, who divided his attention between him, two other young ladies, and another young man, flirting with each of them in turn.

"You have something in your hair," Light announced slyly to one of the girls, smiling charmingly as he reached out to pluck a stray bit of paper from her dark chocolate locks, which turned into a discreet stroke. She grinned shyly and leaned into his touch.

It was just another day, L reminded himself stubbornly, suppressing an urge to punch Light hard enough to break his pretty little nose, or, at least, kick him out of the window. He tried not to notice Light whispering into the pretty brunette's ear and the flush that covered her cheeks as she giggled into her hand.

He squeezed his pencil with an unnecessary amount of force and glared at his math book.

(linebreak)

"You've seemed pretty out of it today, L," Light noted casually, his hands buried in his pockets.

L didn't reply, just sank further into his slouch and stared at the pavement they walked on. He could feel Light staring at the side of his head curiously.

No reason to be upset with Light or with those two girls or even that other boy, really. Despite the jerky urge in his leg to kick all of them into the ground, L knew he had no grounds to do so and would therefore take this blow (not really though, they weren't together or anything, he had no claim to what or who Light did, so it wasn't actually a blow, it just felt like it) with grace. As much grace as he had left at his disposal, at least, which was admittedly not much.

And, anyway, it wasn't like Light had made any plans to…hook up with any of them. He was just engaging in flirtatious advances, which was a role Light fell into quite naturally.

(But it wasn't like L hadn't seen that brunette girl slip Light her number, as discrete as she tried to be, bless her. And it wasn't like Light hadn't known he had seen it, like he didn't know L noticed when he winked at her and pocketed the stupid scrap of paper.)

L moodily kicked a stone that sat innocently in his path. It rolled several feet ahead before slowing to a halt. He got ready to follow it and kick it again.

"L, wait," Light said suddenly. L lifted his head and looked back at him where he had stopped a few feet back, clutching the strap of his backpack, head cocked slightly to the left. "Let's get cake."

L tilted his head and lifted one hand out of his pocket to chew on his thumb absentmindedly, thinking furiously. Light didn't like cake. Light was trying to make him happy. Light wanted something. Light didn't-

"I'll pay," Light promised, rolling his eyes and smirking.

"I shall be ordering several," L warned him, turning on his heel to slink off towards a promising looking café across the street. Light followed him, snickering.

L decided to ignore the momentary flutter in his stomach, as it was very stupid and pointless and most likely detrimental to his health if he continued to be so ridiculously pleased every time he made Light laugh.

Once they were seated in the brightly lit café, with Light's boringly black coffee and L's several pastries surrounding them, they were able to make idle conversation.

"We should go to Haruto's party tonight. It might be fun." Light suggested, taking a sip of his disgusting concoction that he dared to call a beverage.

"It will not be," L deadpanned, taking a particularly vicious bite out of his strawberry Danish as if to emphasize his point. Really, he would rather witness childbirth than join their peers for a night of recreational lawbreaking. The unpleasant smell of alcohol, smoke, and sweat tended to give him a headache, and he was inclined to feel more than a little claustrophobic with all of the bodies packed into a single area. Usually, he slipped off into a corner for the night until he deemed Light intoxicated enough to shuffle home.

"You have to get out of your house sometime," Light reminded.

"I do get out," L lied, reproachfully.

"No, you don't."

"I do not like to indulge in alcohol and illegal narcotics."

"You don't have to. The point is to socialize. You know – that thing you don't do. Where you talk and communicate with other people"

"No."

"Oh, come on. It won't be that bad," Light reassured him exasperatedly.

L frowned doubtfully, dipping a slice of cake into his tea. "Yes, it will be. But I will go anyways."

Light smiled gratefully at him.

L ached to kiss him. Ached to lean across the table and press their lips together as softly as he could and, maybe then, maybe Light would finally understand that he belonged with L, not tangled with a different person every night and –

He shoved another bite of pastry into his mouth but found that all it accomplished was to make him feel vaguely ill.

(linebreak)

The party was, of course, decidedly not fun. At least, not for L, who had made the grievous error of deciding to remain sober in all of this foolishness.

"So, do you, like, wear eyeliner or something?" An obnoxiously inebriated girl asked him, with a loud, repulsive cackle.

"No." L mumbled, not looking at her, his low voice nearly drowned out by the blaring music. She burst into a fit of giggles, nearly spilling her drink.

"L!" shouted a familiar tenor voice. He looked up from the chocolate stain he had been studying on the knee of his jeans to see Light stumbling towards him, looking flushed and entirely too ecstatic, an inane smile spread painfully across his golden face.

He hopped down from his perched position on the ratty couch, standing anxiously to meet his friend. Light ran into him joyfully, throwing his arms around his shoulders and pressing their bodies together. L froze in surprise, his already large eyes widening, to the point where he thought, in a fit of idiocy, that he probably resembled a tarsier monkey (which was a rather unpleasant comparison to subconsciously make).

"Is Light-kun ok?" He inquired shakily, his arms hovering uselessly in front of him, trying not to think about Light's warmth enveloping him, Light's soft hair brushing his face, Light's pert nose buried in his neck.

"Yeah," He drawled, his voice muffled by L's white sweater. L's skin tingled where he could feel his lips moving.

He shouldn't have come, he bemoaned desperately. He hadn't known that this in particular would occur but he had still known it was a bad idea, known that Light was going to go home with somebody and he would have to be a witness to the awkward, fumbling, drunken flirting before he got into his own car, alone, and drove back home to watch late night infomercials-

"Light-kun!" He yelped, starting violently, as the boy began to administer gentle kisses to the side of his neck.

"You know what? We should fuck," Light slurred, as though it were the most logical course of action open to them, sliding his hands down L's arms and clinging to L's hands. He began tugging at him, trying to lead them towards one of the unoccupied bedrooms. "It'll be fun!"

Despite his shock and confusion and the heat curling low in his belly, awakened by Light's drunken words, L responded calmly, "No, we should not."

Terrifying thoughts began to race through his mind, frantic, bitter, lust-filled thoughts.

Would it really be so wrong for you to have him, just for tonight? Just to see what he tastes like. He's broken your heart so many times. Don't you deserve this?

"But I want you," Light complained, clawing at L's shoulder's for balance. The raven-haired youth, grabbed him around his trim, slender waist, steadying him before he fell over, trying to ignore the aching desire that was beginning to set his nerves on fire. He was acutely aware of every area where they were connected, of the heat of Light's skin, the alcohol on his breath, the high flush on his cheeks…

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to clear his head from the fog that had settled over his thoughts and the nausea that was bubbling in his stomach, and tightened his grip on the drunken boy. The heat radiating from his body felt like it might burn him.

"Please," Light whined, leaning in to kiss him. L hurriedly turned his face away so Light's lips landed clumsily on his cheek instead, warm and wet and utterly terrible.

"Oops," Light snorted with laughter and leaned in to try again.

L tried to pull away, the hunger for Light's body and the anguish that Light had made him feel all these years warred with an instinctual urge to keep Light safe, to stop him from hurting himself.

"I will take Light-kun home now," he announced, leaning back as far as the boy would let him as he attempted to kiss him again. "He is very drunk."

Light squeezed his shoulders tightly, pouting obstinately. "If we go home, we can't have sex," he pointed out suspiciously.

"Yes, and Light-kun will be very happy for that in the morning." L managed to pry one of the youth's hands from his shoulder and pushed him away so he was merely assisting him as they stumbled towards the exit.

Light leaned tiredly against his side, allowing him to lead to him away from the party. "Don't you want me?" He mumbled, his brilliant, chocolate eyes beginning to droop. "I thought that you wantedme."

"That is correct, Light-kun." L replied calmly, resisting the urge to cringe. "But not like this."

The ache in his chest had come back (not that it had ever really left), circling his heart like someone had reached into his chest and wrapped their icy fingers around the organ and was clutching it murderously.

He hoped, half-heartedly, that it was indigestion.

They stumbled across the lawn, the piercing music and shouting of the party-goers still echoing behind them, one of Light's arms slung over L's shoulders, as the older boy struggled to carry most of his weight.

He fought to open the passenger door (his shitty, second-hand, gray Subaru that his foster parents had bought for him as an apology for being away so often) and managed to situate Light in the passenger's seat without hitting anything too hard.

"I don't…understand, L," Light murmured sleepily, his eyes completely closed by now, "You're always so… weird about it whenever…I'm…with someone... It's just…sex. It doesn't mean…anything."

He began snoring softly, just as L finished buckling him in.

L sighed and – even though it made the pain in his chest flare up angrily, even though it was irrational and silly – reached out to stroke Light's soft auburn hair, gently brushing rebellious strands out of his tan face. They slid like water between his fingertips.

Why are you doing this to me, Light-kun?

(linebreak)

"What happened last night?" Light groaned pitifully, stumbling out of L's bedroom in nothing but a borrowed t-shirt and his boxers. He clutched his head and squinted as though he had just been hit with a sledgehammer.

After leaving the party, L had decided against bringing Light to his house. On the off chance that his father, Police Chief Soichiro Yagami, was home, he would get in severe trouble, as Yagami-san didn't tolerate rule-breaking of any sort and it was rather hard to cover up Light's…indisposition.

(Although, considering all the things Light got away with, L sometimes wondered whether his parents would actually be very concerned if they knew what he got up to every weekend, or if they would simply trust his judgment and control, since he had never been wrong before.)

Since L's foster parents had been out of town, as they usually were, he had driven them there and Light had immediately stumbled to his room, pulled off his pants and fallen asleep on the bed.

Not for the first time in his life, L was grateful to be an insomniac. It meant that he could sit in the living room and play on his computer and not look at Light. It meant that he didn't have to debate with himself about if he should sleep beside Light on the bed or simply sleep on the floor. It meant that he didn't have to dream about what might have happened if he had said 'yes' to Light's offer.

"Nothing," L mumbled, through a mouthful of double chocolate chip cookie, trying to close his eyes to how beautiful Light still looked, despite his hangover, with the sun that was cascading through the windows shining on him, bringing out the red in his hair and making his tired, chocolate eyes look so impossibly clear. He felt a familiar squeeze in his chest. "Is Light-kun feeling alright?"

Light snorted derisively, grabbing a cup and filled it with water from the tap. He took several large sips before refilling it and coming to sit beside L at the kitchen table.

L wished he had put his pants back on.

"So, I – um – didn't freak you out last night, or anything, right?" Light asked nervously, peering at L through thick, black lashes, apparently having remembered more now that he had woken up completely.

He wordlessly shook his head and began stacking his cookies.

"I'm sorry about that," Light went on. "You know I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just… I don't know. Acting stupid-"

"It's ok, Light-kun," L snapped, his patience breaking, thinking that he might punch the other if he kept talking about it.

The brunette looked taken-aback. "Oh – um… Ok, then."

An uncomfortable silence fell. Light took hesitant sips of his water and L continued to play with his cookies in stony silence.

Maybe he was being too harsh. It wasn't like Light had known what he had been doing, or what he had been saying. It had hurt, but Light hadn't meant it.

'You're always making excuses for him,' a voice whispered snidely at the back of his mind. 'Let him make up his own for once.'

"So we missed morning classes?" Light asked hesitantly, a discomfited attempt to make conversation.

"We have." L agreed, shortly.

They fell silent again. L began breaking his cookies into smaller sections for something to do, feeling uncomfortable and inexplicably upset at Light's apology, sort of like he wanted to grab Light by the shoulders and scream "Why don't you understand? Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?" though he had no idea what exactly "this" was and how exactly it pertained to them.

Light could do whatever he wanted. Just because L had certain…feelings for him, didn't mean he could be hurt by any of Light's actions, especially when Light always, always apologized for them, especially when Light never actually tried to hurt him, especially when Light was still his very best friend.

(Even though he thought that Light was being self-destructive in a subtle sort of way and completely selfish in an unsubtle sort of way-

Well, it didn't matter what he thought.)

Light gently knocked their shoulders together and smiled at him, a playful call for a truce.

All L knew was that the aching in his chest was beginning to become unbearable, that he was starting to unravel at the seams, something had been broken last night and he couldn't hold himself together anymore-

He nudged Light back, accepting the call, and popped a broken piece of cookie into his mouth.

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

(linebreak)

As it turned out, it wasn't much.

A week later, because Light's parents were out of town visiting relatives and his sister was spending the night at a friend's house, L went over to his house for an impromptu visit.

It was a stupid idea in retrospect, utterly imbecilic, since it was a nighttime and Light had the house to himself and L didn't call first – but he had always made stupid decisions concerning Light.

Light opened the door a minute after L first knocked, his auburn hair disheveled and his lips swollen and red, wearing jeans and a loose button up shirt that L was fairly certain wasn't his. L felt a wave of hot fury crash over him at the sight, feeling it well up and suppressing the urge to yell at him was almost painful.

"What are you doing here, L?" He asked, obviously surprised to see L standing there, hands buried sullenly in his pockets. He ran a hand unconsciously through his hair, apparently attempting to straighten out the messy strands.

"I came by to see Light-kun," L replied quietly, studying the stupid, plain white shirt, feeling nausea and jealousy churning in his stomach, subtly, but stingingly.

"I – I don't think now is the best time, L. I have a…guest and…" Light trailed off, uncomfortably, holding onto the door like a pillar of strength. He bit his abused lower lip and L wondered, with a growing sense of frustration, resentment and disgust churning ever faster in his stomach until he thought he might throw up, who it was that was probably still lounging in Light's bedroom. He wondered, irritably, if they appreciated that they had the chance to kiss him ('Half the students in Tokyo have had the chance to do more than that,' a snide voice hissed in his mind and he shrunk away from the helpless anger that that thought brought with it) or if they noticed how lovely he looked at night, the porch lights turning his exquisite eyes a unique golden color.

"I understand," L muttered, turning to flee, to retreat back to his empty home and sit in his bedroom, to wait out another lonely Saturday night with no one but himself and his laptop for company –

A sudden bout of…something – insanity, maybe, or the abrupt reality of his hopeless situation – caused L to freeze, just as he was about to descend the stairs, and turn back around.

"Wait," he said sharply, just before Light shut the door. Light paused, looking at him curiously.

"Do you think…?" L asked softly, trailing off, his vast intellect not helping him in the slightest, his usual monotone sounding harsh and tired and – and hurt. "Could you ever fall in love with me?"

"What?" Light gasped, slack jawed and wide-eyed, staring at him as though he had suddenly sprouted another head through his black thickets of hair.

Years of hopeless longing and resentment finally seemed to boil over and L, normally so controlled and reserved and calm, couldn't stop words from spilling out from between his lips, letting loose everything he had thought on dark nights when he hated Light far more than he loved him. "I just – I just don't understand!" He let out a short, humorless laugh, voice cracking. "Are you simply incapable of it? Does it please you to know that you can make people fall in love with you, even without falling on your back for them?"

He wondered, briefly, where the sudden confidence came to say this. It wasn't the first time he had been sent home because Light had found a new screw-toy. It wasn't the first time he had seen Light just about to share his body with another person.

Light, whose eyes were wide with hurt and shock, who was the only person L had ever loved this desperately, who was wearing another man's shirt and looking at L like he was being the cruel one.

"I – L, what are you –" Light stuttered, utterly lost for words for once, looking stunned that L would break the fragile and delicate balance that they had, one that, to his mind, had been working perfectly. "Why are you saying this?"

"Because I love you," L snapped, gesturing violently, his baritone voice beginning to rise with every word, "and you're out every night, whoring around with these idiots that could never –!"

"Shut up, L!" Light hissed, wiping the hurt from his face and replacing it with anger. He quickly stepped outside and shut the door behind himself, as though whoever was inside could hear them speaking.

"We should be together, Light!" The raven-haired youth declared firmly, dropping the honorific. For a second he was unsure if he should be saying all this, before he figured that if he was already destroying whatever type of friendship they had, then he might as well do it completely.

No room for regrets. Not anymore.

"You're acting like an idiot." Light retorted exasperatedly, but with a hint of…panic?

"No," he growled, walking back across the porch, to Light, and straightening up to his full height. Even through his anger and hurt and yearning, he was still mildly surprised to see that he actually stood about an inch taller than the auburn haired young man. "Don't you understand? We belong with each other!"

"What are you talking about –?"

"Don't act stupid, Light-kun," he snapped, impatiently. "It doesn't suit you."

"L –"

"No. You are the only person I have ever been able to connect with on an emotional and mental level, Light-kun. The same goes for you. By all accounts, we should be soul mates."

"Things like that don't exist, L!" Light cried, throwing his arms into the air agitatedly.

"Then what would you call us, Light-kun?"

Light fell silent, glaring at L and looking like he would like nothing more than to throw one of his nasty punches at L's face, his blazing eyes like molten gold. He spat his next words out from between gritted teeth:

"I thought we were friends."

"Light-kun is very much mistaken if he thinks that I will just hang around him for the rest of my life with no compensation."

"What do you want me to do, L?" Light demanded, sneering. "Do you want me to have sex with you just to keep you around?"

"No!" L cried, taken-aback and more than a little outraged. Didn't Light know him better than that? Didn't he realize how he felt about him? "I just…" Here it is, this is the big climax, the decisive moment, the final punch and, oh god, L once again felt like he was going to be sick.

Light raised his eyebrows impatiently. "You just what, L?"

He hunched over again, folding in on himself as though he were closing a book, the confidence of earlier swept away like pictures in sand.

"I just…" He met Light's eyes reluctantly and swallowed before forcing himself to continue, despite the words feeling like acid, burning through his tongue. "I just want you to be with me. No one else."

"L…" Light sighed, the tension seeming to flee his body and leaving him looking soft and as vulnerable as L felt. "You're my best friend…"

L perked up, sensing that Light was nearing a breaking point. What kind of breaking point it was, L wasn't sure…but it was still progress.

"You are my best friend as well, Light-kun," he replied, watching Light carefully, trying to decipher every flicker of emotion that flashed across his friend's face.

Pity, regret, betrayal, anger…

All there in Light's face for the world to see, but L was the only one who would ever be able to understand. He was the only one who could ever look past the masks Light wore – the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect charmer – L could see past all of that and he saw Light.

Too-intelligent-for-his-own-good Light Yagami, the bored genius, the beautiful boy, who was utterly lost in a world that he didn't understand and probably never would.

"I know who you are," he whispered, still studying Light's face. "I understand you."

Light flinched, surprise blossoming in the comical 'o' shape of his mouth, in the widening corners of his eyes.

Overcome with hope and a complete, unsettling lack of self control, L stepped forward and pushed Light against the closed door, one hand gripping his hip and the other cupping his elegant face as gently as possible.

"What are - mmmph?"

L cut off Light's gasp of surprise with his mouth.

The kiss was – the kiss was – L couldn't think properly, which was a completely new and unsettling sensation, although, in some ways, very liberating. It was as though his thoughts had been put on mute and the only thing that he could feel, the only thing that was in his universe was Light's warm body pressed firmly between his and the door, their lips moving together at a gentle, but insistent pace. Light's lips were soft and compliant beneath his (and swollen, L couldn't really think but that didn't stop him from wondering whether or not he was as good of a kisser as whoever else Light had made out with tonight), not really responding but also not really pulling away, most likely a reaction borne of shock because Light wasn't known to be compliant for anyone, much less for L.

It didn't last for very long. L pulled away, forcing himself to disconnect from Light, after only a few seconds, though he kept close, studying Light's face, and stroking his cheek.

The auburn-haired student slowly opened his eyes, breathing heavily, and stared oddly at L, like he had never seen anything quite like him (though, to be fair, he really hadn't ever seen anything quite like L).

"Why are you doing this now, of all times?" He whispered, dazedly. L could feel his warm breath blowing gently across his face. It made the ache in his chest throb disagreeably.

"I was beginning to…" L breathed, lifting his hand to brush a lock of hair out of Light's eyes, "experience a very unpleasant sensation while I consumed confectionary." A lie, but he wasn't exactly known for telling the truth. "Knowing that you – that you weren't…mine."

"So," the auburn-haired youth said slowly, shaking himself out of his stunned state. "What you're saying is that if I'm not…with you, than you're not going to stick around me?"

"A very accurate and precise summary, Light-kun."

"Shut up," Light snapped. After a reluctant pause, he continued, looking away, appearing to be frustrated at his own inability to wiggle his way out of this situation: "I don't want to have to make this decision."

"You have to."

"I know."

Silence fell over the two. The wind rustled the leaves on the trees, breaking the tense silence minutely. L focused on Light's arms wrapped around his shoulders, one of his own hands resting on Light's hip, and the other stroking his cheek, their shared closeness, waiting for Light to make his decision, feeling a kind of calm dread that only comes after the horror of a tornado, after an ambulance arrives for a dying man, after watching your mother drive away and realizing she was never going to come back for you.

Finally, Light met his eyes again, his own golden orbs burning with determination and challenge and fury and a whole multitude of other things that L was only just beginning to guess at.

"I don't like being subjected to duress."

"I know," L admitted, warily.

"You're an arrogant son-of-a-bitch."

"You are an insufferable brat."

Light sighed and looked away again, lowering his black lashes until they partially hid his eyes.

"Do you want to spend the night, L?"

L traced Light's cheekbone with is forefinger, thoughtfully, something warm beginning to flutter in his belly, where it used to feel so very hollow and black. "You know that isn't really what I want from you."

"It's all I have to offer," Light said, glaring petulantly at the wooden floor panels, and L had a sudden thought that, maybe, Light was just as confused and scared and miserable as he was.

He leaned forward and, as tenderly as he could – because he could scarcely believe the situation he was in, the thin line he was walking, because he just wanted to know that this wasn't a dream conjured by his sleeping medication – kissed Light on the cheek. He lingered there for a second, running his nose lightly across his jaw line, and informed him softly:

"It's not."

(linebreak)

Later, after Light had kicked out his idiot guest – some fool by the name of Teru Mikami who L had no idea how Light had met, considering he looked like he didn't know the directions to anywhere but the library – and they were sitting on Light's bed, their backs against the headboard, talking (effortlessly, casually, comfortably), L came to the exhilarating conclusion that he had won.

Won his one-man battle against fate, or destiny, or whatever (whatever that had taken away his family, taken away his past, but couldn't take Light away from him now). Won against the world and its futile efforts to make him as wretched as possible.

Something warm touched the side of his palm. He looked down curiously and saw Light's tan hand slip into his own, so hesitantly that, for a moment, he was reminded of a small, frightened child, desperately seeking comfort in his bewilderment. When he glanced at the young man himself, Light was biting his lower lip and frowning at the wall across from them with unblinking eyes, as though he were confused or nervous or both.

L smiled, a subtle flick at the corner of his lips, and threaded his pale fingers through Light's, squeezing their hands gently together, warm and tentative, before letting his head fall back against the headboard.

And then – because he could, because Light was his now and he was allowed to do this – he lifted their joined palms and kissed the back of Light's hand.

He laughed at the unimpressed glare he received in return.

AN I softened their characters a little bit, considering that neither of them were a serial killer or a super detective.

Review please? Concrit is lovely. And I adore everything else as well even if it just to say "Nice" or "Not nice" :)