So this was originally made of two completely different stories but I combined them because they kind of fit and 1 plot line is much easier to slack on than two! Woo! So the first bit is in L's perspective like a prologue type thing, but the story will most likely be entirely in Light's perspective. The title is the title of an All Time Low song and it's pretty good. And if you don't like them, I DON'T CARE. Just come for the story, only the story. Plus I found the title amusingly appropriate. Anyways, read on, and I hope you enjoy!
The sigh that escaped Light's lips for the fifth time spoke more than words could.
L glanced at the clock, 12 a.m., before finishing the last few sentences on the case notes he was working on and saving his document. He closed his laptop with a resolute clock.
Light's soft brown eyes turned on him with a gleam of hope shining in them.
The detective noticed the subtle changes in Light since he began helping on the Kira case while also undergoing L's suspicion. The lines around his eyes were more pronounced as well as the creases around his mouth. His hair had less of its glossy shine, the perfect posture he usually kept had a noticeable slouch to it. But most troubling of the changes were Light's eyes. They said that eyes were windows to the soul and if his were anything to go by, Light's soul was even more dim than the rest of him. It was troubling to say the least.
L wasn't sure where his care for Light's appearance or emotional wellbeing had suddenly come from, but he knew he felt uncomfortable whenever he saw Light slouch a little lower into his seat or sigh and rub his eyes before continuing with work again.
Of course Light was still a huge pain in the arse. He constantly complained and impeded L's work. Plus he was completely unproductive after two in the morning.
"I think we may retire for the night, Light-kun." L spoke solemnly as ever. But the small smile that tugged on Light' lips made him feel a little warmer inside. This also confused L but he shrugged as he followed the exhausted Light to their bedroom.
They changed quickly and as L went to reattach the handcuff to the teenager's wrist, he jumped back a bit when he saw the boy's bare torso. He glued his eyes to the floor as he reattached the cuff with fumbling fingers.
He cautiously approached the bed with the now semi-conscious boy in it.
He was utterly at a loss for the reason Light decided to sleep with his shirt off tonight. The room was no warmer than usual and he had plenty of clean night shirts in his dresser. Perhaps his mind wasn't lucid enough to fully function. This made L feel a little guiltier of his grueling work schedule.
L pulled the covers back and slid in with barely a sound or disturbance, wearily eyeing the sleeping form next to him.
He pulled his laptop on to his lap and opened it, letting his back rest against the headboard and his legs stretch out in front of him. It wasn't his ideal sitting position, but he would deal with it. Besides, the laptop was more for distraction than anything else.
L was quite successful in his diversion until the point in Light's REM cycle that led to him rolling onto his side facing the middle of the bed and throwing his arm around L's waist and pulling him to his body.
The ink-haired man was torn between embarrassment, irritation, and that troubling warm feeling in his stomach again.
He wasn't a goddamn teddy bear! …but he couldn't deny the comfort he found in having Light's warm arms wrapped around him.
Alarm bells went off in his head as he thought this and stared into the gentle face of his prime suspect.
The warm feeling, the embarrassment, his wish to please Light. L had never really had an attraction for anyone, he had better things to do with his time. But he knew enough about the world to understand what was happening.
He stared at the blank darkness in front of him as the reality of his situation fell on him.
"I'm in trouble."
That morning Light Yagami woke up feeling fantastic. His dark honey eyes opened to reveal the sun beaming it's rays of light onto his face, leaving a pleasant warmth. He had slept deeply and plentifully that night, lightening the dark circles that hung underneath his eyes.
He smiled at the ceiling, letting the sheer bliss of the moment envelope him before reality's unforgiving weariness took him again. He had always been a morning person, but as he sat comfortably in his bed, a sense of wrongness began to prod at him. Something was off about the glorious morning. The longer he sat with his eyes open, the longer something felt wrong. Finally, when the discomfort began to give him a strange feeling in his stomach, Light sat up from the warm cocoon of his bed. He looked to his right, suddenly remembering the reason for his confusion.
L lay in the bed next to him, the harsh lines of his face relaxed into a serene slumber that gave him a younger appearance. It struck Light that he had no idea how old L was. But he couldn't be all that much older than Light, which meant that he had accomplished a lot in his few years of life. But he wondered if L had ever done things beyond his career. Like go out and get drunk, spend all day at home watching movies in his pajamas, have his first kiss… that thought made his stomach feel strange, but he couldn't quite identify with the feeling. Maybe he found it humorous.
The face in front of him was quite amusing. L's softened face almost made him look like a kit... Light could not dignify that thought by finishing it. I mean really, who would make the comparison of the great L to a… kit—no. He still couldn't do it.
After wrestling the obnoxious voice in his head back into submission, the teen realized that the strange feeling that had invaded his bliss moment was the gaping lack of L's dark gaze on him and the investigator's immediate demand for him to get up and get ready for work.
It was strange to see the man sleeping. In the few months that Light had spent chained to L, he had never seen the man sleep. He either fell asleep after Light did and woke up before him, or he didn't sleep at all. And as Light grew to know the detective and his inhuman qualities, he had favored that theory that L never slept at all. Which of course was ridiculous, and the proof that he was wrong was right in front of him. But it was hard to tell with L.
Light wrestled with the idea of waking the detective up or simply letting him sleep and trying to get even more sleep himself. As he lay back down, deciding that he deserved to be a little greedy when it came to his precious sleep, a soft noise had him opening his eyes once again.
Light looked to the door to see if maybe someone had meant to enter, but as the soft noise came again, he realized it had come from right next to him. Light focused his gaze once again on the sleeping detective to find his once serene face now contorted.
Shock overtook Light at the stark pain on L's pale features. He immediately sat up looking for pooling blood or something of that nature that could cause the look of pain on L's face. His frantic searching was stopped however when L shot up with a cry.
Sweat dripped down the detective's face, mixing with his inky hair and trailing to the nape of his neck. His white shirt clung to him in some places, sticky with perspiration.
L's thin frame trembled as his haunted eyes stared ahead into nothing.
"L-L?"
His eyes slowly came out of their trance and his head tilted to the left to look at Light.
"Light?" The detective had a look in his eyes that suggested he didn't quite believe what he was seeing.
"Erm… yes?"
L simply stared at him with a gaping mouth for awhile, before eventually flopping forward letting his head rest on his shins as his body folded in half.
Light watched his thin back go from ragged breaths to calmer, deeper ones.
"Are you okay, L?" Light spoke with caution.
Finally L sat up and spoke "Yes, Light-kun. I am better. I apologize, it seems I was having a nightmare."
Light noticed that the –kun at the end of his name was back. In some obscure way, it disappointed him to hear it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Light was too caught up in trying to figure out his strange emotions to realize how girly and stupidly intrusive that would sound to someone as suspicious as L.
"Ahh, forget it, sorry I just… let's get ready for work."
Light began to mumble nervous incoherent babble as he fidgeted with the sheets trying to free himself of their grasp.
L just stared at Light for a bit with a small eyebrow raise and an intense expression. Finally he grabbed the sheets and threw them off of their bodies easily.
Light just gave him an indignant look before beginning to get up and follow his morning routine.
As the day progressed, Light kept a careful eye on L. And L kept his determined eyes on his screen. Not once did he meet Light's scrutinizing gaze or speak with him. Light began to wonder if maybe he had done something wrong this morning. Or maybe even last night. He was so zombie-tired he could have chopped L's hair off and danced around with it for all he remembered.
As the day went on, L was emotionless and monotone, which wasn't much different from every other day, but it felt more forced today. Like he was trying to rein everything in but his feelings wanted to just burst from him.
And for L, that meant something was very very strange indeed.
L participated minimally in the discussions about Kira. It seemed even Kira was not enough to rouse him of his depression.
Light wondered, not for the first time, what his nightmare could have been about to produce such a profound effect on one of the strongest people he had ever met.
The look of pain on his face, the sweat, his glazed eyes… and at that time L had called him Light. No honorific whatsoever. He wasn't sure why the sound had stuck so hard in his mind. He just liked the way it rolled off of L's tongue even when he said it in a half asleep desperation. Which confused him in refreshingly frustrating ways
As the day progressed Light saw no signs of improvement. He waited impatiently for the day to pass and to finally get time alone with L so he could get some answers. Interesting how the tables had turned, but L was just acting too strange. Maybe not to the untrained eye, but Light had spent a lot of time watching L, which was a thought that left him too unsettled to dwell on for long, and he could recognize when things were not well in the detective's mind.
When L was in deep thought, his nose twitched a little, a bit like a rabbit, which reminded him of his earlier comparison and sent heat to his cheeks. When L was angry, he bit his thumb, but L bit his thumb a lot. But when he bit it when he was angry, it was to cover his lips that tightened and twitched just a bit. Light had yet to recognize what it looked like when the investigator was sad, but he was fairly certain the detective didn't feel sadness and if he did, then he had yet to feel it in his presence with Light. And on the rarest of rare occasions, Light may have seen it twice, the smallest upward lilt of L's mouth and the crinkles around his eyes showed the detective's happiness. Light remembered those moments like treasures, keeping them safe in his mind.
But L was far from his hinting smile at the moment. As the last of the team members left the room, Light finally let out a breath preparing himself for the time to confront L.
Light angled his chair toward L and looked to his mop of black hair. The detective was perched precariously on his chair as his long, nimble fingers flitted over the keys. His dark eyes stayed trained on the screen with absolute intensity but he was still at the exact same place in his document as he was 20 minutes ago.
Light sighed before rolling over toward L.
"Is there something I can help you with, Yagami-kun?"
Light recoiled with the sound of his surname from L's lips. What had he done to deserve his cold formality? But he continued on with his task. This new side of L had to stop.
"We need to talk." Light stated with a firm a tone as he could.
"Alright then, Yagami-kun, let's talk."
Light heaved in another unsteady breath as the snarling emphasis on his surname caused his chest to tighten, but he trekked on.
"L… I wanted to ask you…"
Oh hey look, there's a clif-AHHHHH! Hahaha. Keeps you coming back for more.
Hahah okay, so I'd just like to say, Writer's Block has never hurt so bad. I've been working on this for months and it felt like typing through sand (metaphorically speaking of course, because that literally doesn't make ANY sense), and I really don't like it. But sometimes you just gotta write something bad. Hopefully I shall now be pulled out of the proverbial pit of suck (I'm going crazy on these metaphors today) and actually be able to make something out of this story. I also want to get started on some new ones, but stuff is stuff and it keeps me busy. But thank you to everyone who reads. And triple-thanks to those who review! Please tell me why I suck (constructive criticism, not because All Time Low is poopy or I write annoyingly long rambly author's notes), because I could definitely use some pointers. I also appreciate thoughts and questions about the story, so review away!