The return of my short, very, very, very slightly popular oneshot Kissing and Killing. Part Two. It may continue, maybe not, depending on reviews and all. Please R&R. Oh yeah, and I lied when I said it was a oneshot. Muahaha!
On to the fanfic!
Mello was sucking on a piece of chocolate, as usual; Matt was flicking his goggles and yawning, as usual; Mikami was boredly watching lifespans drift over the heads of passersby through his window, as usual; Near was playing with ridiculously childish robotic toys that somewhat resembled a mix of Transformers and Lego Mindstorm gone awry, as usual; Light was chewing on his pen cap and staring down at a blank page from the Death Note, as usual; and Ryuzaki was munching on panda animal crackers smothered in strawberry frosting and reading the paper, as usual, and all of them were thinking of someone else.
Mello leaned on Matt's shoulder and sighed, his breath smelling heavily of milk chocolate squares, and Matt, annoyed, wriggled out of reach.
"It's a wonder you're not fat," he scoffed, glaring thoughtfully at the thick chocolate bar in his friend's hand.
"It's all I eat," Mello shrugged.
"Okay, so it's a wonder you're not a malnourished little rat." He went back to his book.
"I am a malnourished little rat," Mello smiled, sprawling out into Matt's lap. Matt shoved the blonde onto the raggedly carpeted wood floor. Matt, only about a month younger than Mello, was strong as hell and didn't show any signs of mercy. He took a long drag on his cigarette and flipped a page in his novel. Mello reached up and snatched the book away, pulled the cigarette from Matt's mouth and crumbled it in his fist. Matt looked up, mildly amused.
"All you care about is your damn cigarettes and your stupid books," Mello said, swearing violently as he pressed his lips to Matt's. Matt shrugged and gave a little smile, flicking his lighter on another cigarette and taking the book back from his partner. "All you care about is chocolate," he pointed out, somewhat cheerfully. Matt was pretty easy-going. Mello rolled his eyes and kissed Matt again, lighter this time. Matt traced his fingers lightly over Mello's high cheekbones, a light smile playing across his lips.
"You are pretty," he said carefully, cocking his head to one side.
"I'm not pretty," Mello snarled, ripping the new cigarette from Matt's mouth again and stomping it into the floor, "I'm not. If you're going to bother to compliment me or anything, don't call me pretty."
Matt laughed.
"You are pretty. Like a little girl." He winked fiercely and tucked a strand of hair behind Mello's ear. The blonde glared sharply, gritted his teeth, and pounced. Matt laughed as Mello tore at his clothes, eventually ripping his striped shirt and scratching his goggles.
"Aw, Mel, that was a new pair," he complained as he inspected the damage. Rubbing at the scratch with the heel of his hand, he sighed. Mello skulked off. It wasn't every day he kissed Matt, and it felt pretty damn good. He ought to do it more often. But he'd never say that. Matt was such a cocky little bastard, smoking and reading his books and laughing like he was getting tackled by a six-year-old. Mello grumbled something under his breath and flicked the muzzle of his gun, tried the slide, and checked for a click. Yup, it was loaded. He was pretty sure he would need it.
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L wrapped his arms around Light's neck, breathing hotly in his lover's ear. Light shrugged him off, shoving the Death Note's drawer shut and screwing the pen back together before sticking it in the pencil cup. L licked the side of Light's cheek. Light groaned and wiped his face, standing up from the desk. L pushed him to the bed, his lips tasting sweet and soft, like the strawberry frosting he'd been licking from his fingers moments ago. Light slipped out of his shirt, tugging on Ryuzaki's sleeve. Ryuzaki smiled impishly and bit Light's shoulder. The moan he received in trade was all it took to get him out of shirt, jeans, shoes and socks. He sucked on Light's earlobe as his lover pressed feverishly against him.
L undid the buckle on Light's pants and made short work of the zippers and buttons and belt straps. Soon it was just the two of them, unnaturally void of clothes, grappling and moaning and hissing on the bed. L was in control, because he liked it that way, and Light was trembling pleasurefully beneath him. No one argued about sex when it came to this. Really, whoever was quicker and better was the seme, no questions asked. Sometimes Light led, actually. L was surprised at how nimble he was. There was no doubt in his mind that the sweet taste on his tongue had nothing to do with the strawberry frosting and animal crackers.
Light twisted around to touch his lips to Ryuzaki's, tasting love and blood and excitement. He moved carefully until he was on top of L, exploring the explosions of taste and lust and passion. He ran his tongue along the lines of slim muscle on L's neck, biting and sucking and kissing until he'd decided he wanted it enough. He slipped down farther and farther, slower and slower, until he'd gotten L anxious enough. Light's mouth closed around L's cock, his head pounding, his mind numb. But he'd wanted this forever. He'd waited long enough; they hadn't been together for weeks. He felt L shiver and knew he was doing well. He jutted his chin up quickly as he came face-to-face with a sweating, panting L again. Light's masterfully carved chest was hammering with an irrationally quick heartbeat. He was ready.
Grinding his hips against the bulge in L's groin, he smirked as his lips met with Ryuzaki's again. L moved carefully until they were both on their side, kissing and touching and unable to even guess what to expect next. They were kissing and killing, and they knew it. Light had been careful about this. He frowned as he thought about it.
Suddenly, Light bolted up from the bed, covers flying, pillows knocked on the floor as he scrambled towards his desk. Fumbling with trembling hands, he opened the drawer's secret compartment and flipping to the newest page in the Death Note. He grabbed a pencil and furiously erased every word he saw on the page. Frantic, he continued to rub at the empty white space. L got up, slipped on his boxers, and came up behind Light to see what was wrong.
The light breath on his shoulder startled Light out of his worried work, and he spun around quickly, breathing hard. Not anticipating L being so close, his shoulder had hit his lover in the jaw and Ryuzaki was on the floor, swearing about the blood dripping down his split lip. Light's eyes widened as he saw the blood and the crumpled figure on the floor. He helped L up; when he firmly decided that Ryuzaki was fine, Light went back to the death note and pushed harder and harder with the eraser again, as if scrubbing an invisible stain. He flipped the page and let out a scream when he saw the name he'd just erased appear again and again, filling every page, every line, every spot. He ripped and tore and cried as he lashed out at the book with his eraser and his pen and his hands. Shredding every last page, he sunk to the floor, surrounded in a snowfall of paper bits, his face in his hands.
He began to sob.
The Death Note was lying by his feet, unharmed, somehow reconstructed, and everywhere, there was that name.
He shrieked as L collapsed into his arms and his lover died in his lap.