This is a response to the dn_kink2 meme: "Misa/L/Light. Misa topping everybody. Foodkink. With cake. Thanks."
Right now it seems rather Light/L centered, but Misa will get her time in the limelight very very soon ;)
Also, keep in mind that this is not a serious fic. At all. This is me having fun at 4 AM in the morning.
Anyways, enjoy!
Light honestly didn't know how he ended up in a tangle of limbs. Soft, steady breathing surrounded him, warm breasts pressed against his back in an almost comforting manner. Unkept tufts of jet black hair tickled against his nose. It all felt so serene, so imperturbably normal, though once the morning afterglow passed on, he only wanted to jump out of bed and yell "What the fuck?"
How did he get in bed with Misa?
How did he get in bed with Misa and L, of all people?
Most importantly...how did he get into bed with Misa and L...with Misa wearing a goddamn strap-on?
He could deny it happened, hell, he could try to smooth talk himself into forgetting, but however good a liar he was, the ache in his ass was telling a much different story.
It had begun -as cliche'd and played out in many a crappily written piece of erotica- with a bottle of wine. Or rather, a slice of rum cake.
That is to say, some idiot (Matsuda was more than likely the culprit) had gone out and bought what looked like an innocent strawberry cake, complete with fluffy icing and delectable fruits parading across the smooth, thick surface. Ryuzaki had sniffed it, poked it, stared at it with his signature weird pout, and then finally, though reluctantly, placed a piece haphazardly on the tip of his tongue, licking it ever so slightly before quite literally peeling it off the fork, leaving crumbs scattered about his upper lip.
Nothing seemed off at that point- L could be a rather slow eater when it came to cake, and Light was quite sure that sweets were the equivalent of sexual pleasure in Ryuzaki's bizarre mind. But at the fourth bite, Light could notice the slight trembling of the insomniac's lips as he continued with his monologue about the Kira case to the taskforce. At the fifth bite, L's fingers began to visibly shake. At the sixth, the detective was muttering out slurs, his great mind still functioning at an astounding performance, but his body too tired and drunk to keep up with its brilliance.
And then his body hit the floor with loud (and somewhat humorous) thump.
The men quickly surrounded the twitching mass. Soichero flipped the body over onto his back, and Light watched with mild fascination as L's eyes steadily grew focused and then unraveled to the brink of passing out. "Is he going to be okay?" Matsuda asked uneasily, listening to the unfettered mumblings that steadily seeped from the passed out brunette.
Aizawa propped L in a somewhat sitting position, growling with annoyance while his boss lightheadedly nuzzled his afro. "He's just drunk. Must have low tolerance." He looked over to the abandoned piece of cake and carefully scraped a piece off with his finger, wearily tasting it with a scowl.
"Which one of you idiots thought it would be funny to buy him some fucking rum cake?"
No one answered, though Light could have sworn he saw Matsuda look away with a blush, mumbling to himself how he didn't read the label right.
Light sighed, getting up with a stretch. "I suppose it would only be right to take him back to his room, if that's alright with Watari."
The task force team looked over to the elderly man, who had been watching the scene with a stoic, if not slightly amused, face. "It would be in the best interest of Master L that he rest, yes." Here, his rather kindly face morphed into a stern frown. "However, if anything happens to him, or if anything seems slightly off after tonight, be rest assured that your conviction as Kira will be permanently sealed."
At this Light rolled his eyes. "I am NOT Kira," he stated dully. To him, the sentence was honestly becoming a habit to say, as sad as it was to accept.
Watari nodded. "Very well. Please escort L to his chambers."
The walk with L could not be called uneventful.
In a matter of five to ten minutes, the sleep-deprived man had started mumbling a story about floating skeletons. which then evolved into a monologue of death gods and apples, which then had digressed to a Freudian dissection of the meaning of death gods and apples.
"Et can be said...ahf courssse, that the ap-el symbolizes the world, and eh-ver-ee-thing that we want from'it...An' da death god canbee...the man who wants da wurld...but den he...den he brings death instead..." L had said (or rather, rambled). Light could only be amazed that the wheels in Ryuzaki's head were still churning, though to the average onlooker, he would have sounded like a madman.
It was at this point that a lanky body was sprawled ontop of Light, those usually void black eyes full of something...not lust, not want. More akin to curiosity, even. "It...could also be said..." here, Light grew mildly surprised at the sudden clarity of L's words- "that the apple is the forbidden desire, and the death god is the man who wishes to take his desire, only to bring destruction to those around him."
And then, as if talking about the weather, L looked at Light dully, and stated:
"I want Light-kun to fuck me."
Light's mind stopped to a screeching halt, a blank white curtain seemingly blinding his eyes. "...Excuse me?"
"I would like to be positioned so that my face is on the floor, a 69 degree angle from the bed, and Light-kun to fuck me that way."
Light remained speechless.
"I enjoy being taken from the back. I was quite wild as a seventeen year old, you know. I lost my virginity in a 34 man orgy."
If the Yagami boy could get any whiter, he did.
L chewed his thumbnail in thought. "Though, it was a woman who stuck a dildo into me at that party first..." he mused.
Light managed a small, nervous chuckle. "Ryuzaki, why exactly are you saying all of this?" he asked uneasily.
L's vacant black eyes faced him. "I thought I made myself rather clear. I want Light-kun to fuck me five days from Tuesday."
Without waiting for a response, L puckered his lips and quite literally smooched the boy below him. It was wet, noisy, and very sloppy, not to mention that their lips were completely closed. It was also at this moment that Misa decided to conviniently walk into the hall, an unidentified book in her hand. Light broke free from the one-sided kiss to see her stare blankly at them with a weird expression. And if things didn't seem to be fucked up already, a lecherous grin graced Misa's pretty face.
This, Light decided, was going to be a bad day.