CHAPTER 2
After lunch, everyone left gradually, one by one, on various errands. At last, Light saw that Matsuda and L were the only others remaining.
Odd. It's rare for so few of us to be here. Well, maybe now that the deaths have stopped, they think there is nothing to investigate. Certainly, going over every email Yotsuba employees sent out over the last few months is proving to be tedious work.
I need to dig up Misa's death note and get it into the hands of a safer proxy than Misa, but when will L no longer have people secretly trailing me every time I leave? Well, he'll slip up sooner or later. He's already slipped up once, when I managed to get that coded message to Misa for her to bury her death note and give up her memories. It's only a matter of time until L does it again.
The vast quantity of entirely pointless emails Light was examining started to numb his mind. The inner workings of the Yotsuba corporation were complex and tedious, and he knew entirely too much about them.
Maybe I need a break too. But, if I don't stay beside L as much of the time as possible, it'll be easier for him to launch plans against me. This way I have at least some hint of what he might be doing.
Light was barely aware of Matsuda being scolded for bringing too many cups of coffee to L, and then L dismissing Matsuda for the afternoon because there was nothing for him to do either, not without the others. Light became almost hypnotized by the cycle of clicking with the mouse, scrolling, and then typing a short note for the database as each particular email was filed away as one that had been looked at. He watched the movements of his hands and fingers in a detached way. There was something about the cyclical process, and the tapping sounds of the keys, that drew his attention.
Light started pressing more keys, seeing how they sounded, faster, then slower.
What did the underside of a computer keyboard look like? Light couldn't remember. It had been a long time. He flipped it over and started playing with the little legs that adjusted the angle of the keyboard between two positions. The legs made interesting sounds too, a little snip-click as they slid from one position to another. It was very satisfying. Light giggled.
For a moment he had the sense that something was wrong, terribly wrong, but then that thought faded as he started running both hands over the smooth plastic on the underside of the flipped-over keyboard, reveling in the hardness and the almost-slick feel of his fingertips gliding over the surface. They barely made a sound at all, so he started humming in time with each stroke of a fingertip.
Yes, this was a musical instrument of some kind, able to provoke humming from his throat. He adjusted to a slightly different tone for each finger, and lay his head down on the counter to get a better view, from very close. He closed one eye and then another as he continued to play, watching the perspective change. If he looked down and crossed his eyes, he could just see the blurry tip of his nose. It was so nice. He felt warm and comfortable and very happy. Nothing could go wrong now. He sank into the bliss of it, and the time seemed to stretch on endlessly.
Light was stirred out of his thoughts by a hand on his elbow. He looked up into L's face and then down again to L's hand. It really was a delicate hand, the long fingers splayed, grasping just slightly.
L said, "Light, how are you feeling? You must be bored."
Light plucked at the edge of L's sleeve and then brought his face close to it, close enough to see the weave of the fabric.
Light said, "Your sleeve, it's so white!"
Light played with the edge of the sleeve, flipping it back and forth, and then rolling it up slightly to display L's pale wrist. He became fascinated with the delicate bones, the two nubs that could be felt and seen on the edges, the warm pulse that could be detected by pressing just so, and the spidery palest blue veins visible on the underside.
L said, "Light, let's go to the couches. I think you need to lie down."
Light looked up into that pale face looming over him. "Yes. That would be nice."
Then he turned his attention back to L's sleeve, but the entire arm was retreating away. Light watched it go, immensely sad, and then remembered he was invited to follow it. Yes. Light stood up from the chair and followed L to the couches under the stairs. He sat down directly across from L, and looked upward.
The stair steps were perfectly clear, and they refracted the light beautifully, giving a distorted, jagged view of the ceiling above. Light swung his head around in circles wildly, looking and looking, humming slightly to himself again. Wait, there had been something. Something very nice. Light focused his gaze on L, directly across from him on the other couch, a tiny coffee table between them.
Light said, "L, I want to see your wrist. It's really great!"
Without waiting for an answer, Light jumped onto the coffee table and then, with another small jump, right onto the couch beside L. Did L look alarmed? Light settled in, snickering. Yes, L deserved to be frightened. He should be scared of Kira.
Light pulled his legs to his chest in an imitation of L and kept giggling, the noise at last getting so continuous he could hardly breathe and had to force himself to stop. It was hard, though. Little giggles kept bubbling out at the most inappropriate times.
Wait. The couch was for lying down, wasn't that what L had said?
Light stretched himself out, but there wasn't enough room. He pushed at L, and then when the man tried to get up out of the way, grabbed him tightly, pulling him back.
Light said, "No, you're not getting away."
In a few more moves, Light had stretched himself out, and forced L's legs down, so Light's head was cradled in the center of L's lap. Light looked up into those wide black eyes, and he seemed to be drawn into those depths. He wiggled, squirming in place, wondering what L was thinking. The crystal clear stair steps with their pretty refractions were just above L's head, but somehow L himself was drawing all the attention.
Light felt something like a tightness in his chest, and he wanted to brush the hair out of L's eyes. Light reached up with that intention, but then his hand got sidetracked halfway up L's face and instead started pushing the tip of L's nose back and forth.
Suddenly, L grabbed Light's wrist and said, "We're friends, aren't we? Why don't we talk for a little while?"
Light felt an overwhelming love suffusing him, a deep contentment with the situation. L's legs underneath him were so warm, and as he gazed up into L's face, he thought that he'd never seen anything so perfect. It was much better than the wrist. He had the urge to kiss and squeeze and stroke, to bunch up the front of that white shirt in one fist and violently pull L down to lick and explore that mouth.
Light giggled and then said, "You're my best friend ever. I love you so much!"
Light spread his arms as wide as he could. "I love you more than this much. I can't help it. You're such a cute little panda bear!"
"Good," L said, "I feel the same way."
Light frowned. There was something wrong with this. It was a nagging feeling, somewhere deep inside. Like a little inner voice whispering things, but he couldn't understand the words. He looked up again, into L's eyes, and suddenly he knew what was wrong.
Light said, "Let's tell each other our real names, and then we'll know we can trust each other. I'm Light Yagami."
L said, "Yes, I know. I'm... I'm..."
L brought a thumb to his mouth and nibbled it slightly. "I'm Larry Lardbucket."
Light stared up at L. He could hardly believe it. L really did, really must, trust him. No, it was more than that, going far beyond mere trust. To risk or give up the entire Kira mission, L must love, truly love, in return.
There could be no secrets now. And, it was time to tell the most important one. Light suddenly felt shy. He reached up and tangled his arms in L's shirt, his fingers digging in and bunching in the fabric.
Light said, "I want to have your babies."
L seemed frozen in place, tense for a moment before relaxing. Light continued, "I want your penis in my ass. I want to feel it sliding in and out, and I want to feel you coming inside me. I want to get pregnant with your babies over and over again, feel them growing inside me, and then give birth to them and we can raise them together."
L was still looking down, nibbling his thumb. What was he thinking? Light gave him a big smile.
Light said, "I want your babies so badly. Kiss me."
L started to lean over. Was that the start of a kiss? Light grabbed L's shirt hard, yanking him down and pressing his lips upward against those warm lips. Light tried to force his tongue in but merely ending up licking L's teeth, clamped closed against him in a firm barrier. Light ate at that mouth furiously, swimming in a haze of building lust, feeling the heat pooling in his groin. He buried his hands in the depths of L's hair and pulled down as far as he could, while also leaning up.
Then Light found a hand curling around the side of his neck, L's fingers cool and soft, touching lightly, and then L finally opened his mouth and started kissing back. Light moaned at the feeling of connecting, each sharp thrust of his tongue against L's tongue sending surges of sparks into his hardening penis, and then he broke the kiss and tried to wriggle into a new position of not merely having his head on L's lap, but his entire body.
As he repositioned himself, Light said, "L, I want you to stick it in me now. I want to get pregnant with our child."
Light squirmed in L's lap, rubbing his erection against L's stomach. Each movement set off a little jolt of pleasure, and he couldn't wait, he could hardly imagine waiting.
L softly said, "That's not possible. You'd need a womb for that. Unless they're magical assbabies. But we should talk about our future. What should we do about the Kira problem?"
Oh, that. That was important, wasn't it? Well, L was trustworthy now. He'd proven himself. Light felt a feeling of satisfaction, a kind of lazy warmth spread through his entire body. There was still some kind of nagging thought, but it was almost completely silenced now, buried beneath layers of hormones. It couldn't have been that important. Light drifted off. The pretty, crystal-like edges of the transparent stairs had caught his attention again, and his eyes traced the fragmented, refracted shapes of the ceiling panels as seen through them.
L said, "Light?"
"Oh, sorry, L... I mean, Larry."
Light tried to gather the thoughts together in his mind, everything he needed to tell the story, but he wasn't quite sure where to begin and L had to prompt him several more times before he started.
Then, when Light did start talking about being Kira, it felt as if random things were being blurted out in no particular order and without the connecting parts. L didn't seem to mind. He looked fascinated, gazing in rapt attention. The only times he interrupted was when Light found himself talking about babies or sex again, or when Light got caught up in a long giggling fit. There were more and more of those.
It was just so freeing to suddenly be talking openly about this, it was crazy, and real, and everything Light had been secretly wanting. To pour out the full truth to L, and have him not be running off to get the handcuffs. It was a giddy, buoyant sensation, as if a weight had been lifted away.
Still, Light found himself getting more and more confused about things. It felt like a losing battle, to even try to tell about things in the order they happened, and all those plans for what to do, had they really been so complicated? It was so odd. Things were becoming weird. It must be because of being a couple with L now. Yes, that was it.
Light started humming. The shapes of the ceiling tiles were drawing his gaze more and more. He felt a tremendous peace radiating from them. The strange warmth had spread to all his limbs. He wiggled his toes lazily. He was almost completely unaware when Watari came in, and then he was only barely able to focus on the old man because Watari was talking to L.
In reply, L said, "Yes, I think the time of coherency is completely gone. Please help me put him away, and call the others."
A/N (Author's Note):
Well, one more chapter to go. I hope I was able to get a little bit of surprise in there.
I chose "Larry Lardbucket" as L's fake name as a homage to some of the weird names produced by the Death Note canon, such as Ill Rat (in the SPK), Blues-harp Babysplit (in the "Another Note" novel) and Knick Staek (one of the other FBI agents sent to Japan along with Raye Penber), and many more of equal ridiculousness.
"Larry Lardbucket" is also a reference to how L would look if he didn't have a lightning-fast metabolism. He'd be fat.
I'm really glad that canon L's real name ended up being something cool, and not something incredibly stupid/silly.