Disclaimer- If I owned Death Note, Near would have had his own spin off series. And there would be no tops in it. Also, sex. Lots of it. Man on man copulations. Nothing but day dreams about him and Light and Mello getting it on. (Has someone written that, btw? Should I write that? Threesome time?)

Mihael woke up in a strange bed without his gun under his pillow. He slid his hand around the cool underside of the pillow a few moments more before jolting up. His heart raced hard for a few moments before he caught sight of the black leather jacket Near had been wearing the night before and he was hit with the memories of last night.

Coming to his senses, he couldn't help but notice the heavy smell of sex still lingering in the room and how achingly well fucked he felt. His thighs were tight and his back was sore and his lips were bruised, but by God if he didn't feel more alive than he had in ages.

Near was nowhere to be seen, but that had always been the case after sex. The man would stay long enough for Mihael to fall asleep comfortably settled in his warm arms before sliding out and continuing his work. Mihael ruffled through Near's drawers before snagging out a pair of boxers and one of Near's silky dress shirts and quickly clothing himself. His stomach grumbled and he grinned at the thought of one of Near's catered breakfasts. International detective he may be, but the man was spoiled rotten by his live in butler and companion Wammy, and Mihael was completely open to being grown to be spoiled too.

He slid out of the bedroom and blinked in surprise as he saw a vaguely familiar goggled form smoking a cigarette and typing away on a laptop while stretched lazily across one of the sitting room's many puffy armchairs. If Mihael's eyes weren't betraying him, than the man in front of him was one very well known drug dealer of the seediest sort that often did business with L. Apparently he'd dyed his hair. Or stopped dyeing. Mihael didn't really know which one. All he knew was that very few people were prone to goggles and striped tops as fashion statements.

"Matt?" Matt glanced up and grinned.

"Near! Lover's up!" Mihael blinked as the South African accent came out of Matt's mouth, coloring his English with a melodic lilt. He'd only met the man a few times before, but he had been very decidedly British then. Near entered and eyed Mihael in his boxers for a few moments and Mihael regretted the wardrobe decision, because fuck it if they didn't both want to go at it again. Only there was now an interloper in the mix and Mihael wasn't one to share.

"Mihael, I trust you've met Mail." Matt, now Mail, gave Mihael a wink and a two fingered salute before hitting his computer again.

"Yes…but he was British. And had read hair. And was named Matt." Near shrugged.

"He does that. It was imperative for him to remain undercover in order to infiltrate L's network. Unfortunately, it seems he's caught onto the trackers we were sneaking in the cocaine shipments and has been warning our clientele off of his products. So I returned him to my proper team." Mail cracked out his fingers and stretched a bit.

" S'nice not to have to put on that fokken accent anymore. Plus the hair dye made me look like shit. Couldn't get any pussy as a redhead. " He paused thoughtful. "Men were really into me though." Mihael just nodded and tried to look like this wasn't all a bit out of his comfort zone. "Anyway Near, I'm going to try and scope out some of those locations you wanted now that the snow's lightened up to only a small blizzard. How you fokkers deal with this kak year round, I'll never know…" He gave Mihael another grin and left, pulling on a large puffy coat as he went.

"So you had one of your men running a drug cartel out of his London basement?" Near shrugged and dropped down onto the recently abandoned chair.

"Yes." Well then. Mihael slid into his lap and Near groaned as Mihael straddled him fully. Near's fingers tap danced across his hip before they sunk in hard and possessively into Mihael's hip bone and Mihael groaned back, pressing his hips forward to the touch. Near began to devour his neck and Mihael remembered exactly why he loved this man so much. God, if he wasn't just electric and every touch setting off a series of sparks down Mihael's spine and shooting over in an arc straight to his groin. Of course there were other reasons too, besides the fingers that were flying quickly over his buttoned shirt and pushing it aside.

Like his wit, his laugh, his dry and sometimes cruel sense of humor that only Mihael seemed to understand. Or the way he could tirelessly pursue whatever he wanted with a determination that rivaled L's.

L…

No. No, he couldn't think about L now. L was safe in Japan and Mihael was here with Near and could make sure that no harm came to the man he loved like a brother.

And besides, who could think when Near was making his way down Mihael's chest with that talented tongue and –

Mihael's mind blanked on inner dialogue and he let himself just feel as Near captured his nipple and wrestled with it to a refrain of whimpers and sighs from Mello.

"We should eat breakfast." Near said, pulling away and gently pushing Mihael off his lap.

Goddamn cocktease.

Mihael loved him all the more for it.

L was unsure if he was playing voyeur to a private behavior, or if Light knew he was watching, but either way he was very much enjoying his private concert as the young man flowed through one of his songs as he showered. His voice was low and raspy and he bobbed his head in time with his own beat, using his hands to emphasize words as he rapped into the shower walls.

It was absolutely adorable.

It was also illuminating. Light was apparently talented, extremely so even. L hadn't yet found the time to run through his new bed partner's discography, and he'd only caught the tail end of that one song that had played the first night they'd met. He recalled complimenting it, but honestly he'd really been more focused on the tight ass next to him and now for the life of him he couldn't remember a single word. But if he produced anything like what he was doing in the shower, then the kid really was more than a pretty face, damn fine body, and stylish clothes picked out by professionals. Who knew?

L heard the water shut off and Light stepped out, all well defined planes of muscle and wet golden skin. He glanced up and looked surprised to see L lounging against the door frame and watching him with hungry eyes.

"Absolutely not. I'm hungry and sore and we need to go get my car." L added mind reader to Light's list of talents, along with blow jobs, leg spreading, possibly rapping, and looking sinfully good.

"Well then put your clothes on. If you're just going to prance around naked, I'm going to assume you want me to do something about it." Light arched an eyebrow and dropped his towel without preamble, leaving him nude and gleaming under the dull hotel lightening.

"Did you have something specific in mind?" L strolled forward without answering and pulled Light into a hungry kiss, devouring his mouth and steering him back into the bedroom. He pressed his little rap star down onto the bed and threw his legs open, pulling away to begin kissing down a long thigh. Light whimpered and began to harden as L played along his hipbone, taking time to drag his tong over the long lines of muscle. L was enjoying the lazy seduction, and by the sound of things, so was Light.

"Gods, Lawliet, just suck me."

Screw 'please', those were truly magical words.

L descended and Light reached new octaves and decibels before finally climbing to climax in L's talented mouth. Pulling away from his now spent lover, L casually wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Now did we learn our lesson about naked prancing?" Light nodded dazedly.

"Do it more often?" L chuckled.

"Clever boy."

L had to admit, Light had great taste. They arrived in the lot he'd stashed his car in last night by cab as soon as he'd been able to walk again, and L was just impressed the car was still in the lot and hadn't been broken into. It was a real beauty and he didn't even care much for cars. Light's car was low, black, and the inside was all leather with every creature comfort installed. The custom embroidery on the seats was tastefully opulent and the whole thing reeked of unchecked ego and swagger. It screamed Light Yagami.

He slid into the passenger side, letting Light drive him to breakfast where he had announced that they would continue their 'talk' from the night before. L was looking forward to it. He was looking forward to as many precious moments that he could steal out of the adorable boy before he had to deal with Near.

N. Fucking cunt.

L felt blindsided and that wasn't something he appreciated, or was used to. Usually when L had to improv, it ended up in guns and blood- not a bad thing, but not something he could use with much success on N.

No, what he needed was a plan, one that cut off N from working his poisonous little way through the bratva and put that insidious little punk firmly in his place. L glanced at Light who was fiddling with the radio.

"Just drive Light." Light gave him a death glare and continued to tweak buttons. L sighed. Diva.

Finally satisfied with the bass levels on his overly expensive and most likely custom stereo, Light pulled out and they left the parking lot that was squarely set in the middle of the red light district. L glanced at the dull buildings that always looked so haggard and sad by daylight compared to their ostentatious alter-egos at night. They were out soon enough and L relaxed a bit now that they were surrounded by mirrored high rises. Even under the bright sun and honesty that day brought to the underworld, he still didn't Light being around his kind.

L closed his eyes and leaned back against the plush leather that still smelled new. Light was blasting some American song that was talking about pussy and shootings and L idly wondered when he'd given away the rights to his life story. Light seemed content though, he was mouthing the words and tapping his fingers along the steering wheel, bopping slightly with the beat. L just pulled his left leg into himself, placing it on the dashboard and keeping it there when Light didn't comment about L's shoes on his interior.

"Lawliet?" L made a vague sound of acknowledgement through his closed lips, keeping his eyes similarly shut. Light turned down the music, leaving only a muted beat thrumming along in the background in addition to the smooth hum of the engine as Light deftly navigated Tokyo streets.

"How deep are you in? Really?" L opened his eyes and glanced over at Light, who was grasping the steering wheel with tight knuckles and whose jaw was jumping with how tightly he was clenching his teeth.

"I told you, you don't want to know. I have to leave soon anyways, so let's just get food and you can skip out on your responsibilities for another day and we'll fuck and that'll be it."

Light slapped the wheel viciously and L looked over at the boy in surprise.

"Dammit Lawliet, I'm a big boy. I can handle knowing." L glanced upwards thoughtfully, thumb on his lips.

"I suppose that's true…" Light gave him an annoyed glare.

"Fine. I am the son of Alexei Loginov. I already told you this. What I failed to mention is that Alexei Loginov is the head of the Russian bratva and CEO to our public corporation that we run our operations out of. I am, in essence, the heir to the Russian mafia."

Light looked like he was trying not to looked shocked.

"You're…the heir…Shit, Lawliet." L shrugged. It was true. And it still left out that whole bit about him running the international mafia under his moniker L.

Actually, being privilege to the fact that L was Lawliet was more than most mafiosos would ever know. L was an internationally renowned entity whose exact allegiance wasn't known to anyone but the bratva's elite. Where L had come from, where he'd gotten his contacts, none of the other families knew. They just knew that he was dark haired and dangerous and could switch through Russian, Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, Italian and English at a whim. Sometimes he switched up his accents just to fuck with people. L was the mafia man you called when you wanted shit done. Nothing more, nothing less. He'd utilize anyone's resources as long as he got his cut. The fact that his cut was then carefully fed back into the Russian syndicate was cleverly disguised. Hell, 'L' had even taken up minor cases against his own bratva in order to keep suspicion that he was actually Russian in loyalty as well as blood down. Near had been the only person to actually pin down the fact that he was Russian bratva legion and not entirely his own agent. But even Near didn't know that he was Lawliet Loginov.

Meanwhile, Lawliet Loginov was the pristine son of Alexei Loginov. He was rarely seen, instead working diligently on the public face side of things at the bratva's 'corporation' in some VP job. L had set up a look-alike years ago and let him at it, leaving the door open for him to step in as Lawliet, not L, whenever his father died.

L was in essence his own evil twin.

Light had no idea how much carefully guarded information he was now privilege to.

"I work for our corporation, Light. I don't do hits. I don't do schemes. I actually work on the right side of the law, although that will change whenever my father dies."

Not true, but it was Lawliet's truth, so L was sticking to it.

Light glanced down at L's bare arms where the tattoo of his mother lay.

"Then why all the muscles? Scars? Tattoos? You look like a mafia man." Not when he wore Lawliet's custom three piece suits, he didn't, L thought.

"I like the style of tattoo and I play rugby. Hence scars and muscles." Light looked contemplative, considerate. He wasn't threatening to run them straight into the NPA's lobby, so that was good.

"So, you really are, basically, a Russian business man." Lawliet nodded and ignored the licks of hell fire tickling his feet.

"Why was Sato Haruko so scared of you then? How did he even know who you were?" L paused.

"My arrival was expected, he was prepared to see the son of Alexei Loginov. I may not be a mafia hit man, but I'm not without my own set of skills or my own personal power." Light nodded as though that made sense, even though it didn't.

Teenagers were so cute and willing when they were falling in love.

"Well…then. Breakfast?" L nodded and watched the streets zoom by and a plan formed in the back of his head…

Light knew he was staring and he didn't care. Lawliet looked damn fine in a suit.

Damn. Fine.

Breakfast had been casual and cheap, with Lawliet insisting on eating everything covered in a layer of red bean paste, even the rice. Afterward, he'd gotten a thoughtful look in his eye and asked Light if he wouldn't mind accompanying him suit shopping.

Light had wavered at first, still unsure of where he stood on his new lover's secret identity as a mafia prince. It was all a bit much. But then Lawliet had kissed him and nibbled on his lower lip and Light would have agreed to anything. And he had.

But now he was quite enjoying the fruits of his decision.

Lawliet had slipped into the Brooks Brother's store as if he had done it a million times before. There had been no hesitation in his voice or waver in his orders, even though the salesmen had stared at him and his leather jacket and wife beater with ten kinds of disgust. That had been until Lawliet had thrown open his wallet and picked out a particularly thick black card, the kind of which Light himself had only become accustomed to in the last year.

Well, at least now Light knew Lawliet wasn't after his money.

After that, it had been all yes sirs and no sirs, and L had arranged his fitting to happen immediately and paid all sorts of extra fees to guarantee the custom suit was ready by close the next day. He'd also had the sales girl grab runs of every slack and shirt in a 36 and added them all into his order without thought.

Even Light didn't throw around his money so casually.

After Lawliet was done picking out his tie, he paid and they left, taking only a brief stop into a jeweler for Lawliet to snatch up a Tag Heuer chronograph within minutes of entering. He paid and they left again.

Light was staring again.

"Why are we shopping? I mean, not that I'm complaining, I do this fairly often enough myself, but…"

"We're not shopping ,we're done shopping." Lawliet replied, throwing his bags into the back of Light's car and they both leaned up against the vehicle, resting in the quiet and covered parking lot. "It occurred to me that I need to return to Russia immediately and certain levels of dress are expected out of me when I do. I neglected to pack fine clothes, because this was not a trip meant for button up shirts. However, fate has dealt me a hand and I am dealing with it." Oh, that made sense.

Wait! Immediately?

"Immediately?" Lawliet gave him a small smile.

"Unfortunately. I received a rather pressing phone call last night. In three days time, I will return to Russia." He paused and glanced over at Light. "You could return with me." Light frowned slightly, surprised.

Surprised by the offer and surprised by the fact that he wanted to take it.

But…he had school. Although, really, it was still early enough in the semester to pull out and be fine academically.

His father wouldn't like it, but his father hadn't liked it when he became Kira and Light had done that anyway. They'd needed the money and now they were set for life. Light trusted his own instincts when it came to big decisions.

And he wanted this.

Badly.

As a matter of fact, he wanted it far too much for someone he'd just met. Lawliet was mysterious, dangerous, insanely clever and almost certainly much further on in the mafia than he was letting Light be privy too.

And Light didn't care. He didn't care because Lawliet was also funny and a wickedly good kisser and the most interesting company Light had entertained in a long time, which was an impressive feat for a man used to hanging around eccentric pop stars. He set Light on fire in all of the stereotypical ways, but there was also a deeper current of budding genuine appreciation and affection. Light liked him. He liked him hard and he liked him passionate and he could love him one day.

That wasn't a sentiment he'd ever thought of entertaining.

"Sounds fun." Lawliet looked genuinely surprised and Light leaned over and kissed him softly. "Just promise me one thing, Lawliet." He nodded, staring at Light with inky unreadable eyes.

"In Russia, we'll stop pretending. I want the truth once we get there." Lawliet nodded and Light sat back satisfied.

"Now, I have to call my dad and tell him I'm taking off to Russia for a while. How long will we be there, do you think?" Lawliet glanced around at the other cars and shrugged nonchalantly. Typical.

And so Light flipped open his phone and mentally prepared himself.

"Hey Dad…we need to talk."

Near frowned and stared back over at the pictures. Alexei Loginov was connected to L, that he was sure. L was Russian, Mihael had let him in on that much information and Near had run with it to almost get the bastard two years ago. But he still felt like he was missing something.

L, much like himself, didn't have a known identity. Mihael had told him that L was an orphan and didn't know his parents or real name. Near hadn't pressed him for more information because Mihael seemed to genuinely believe that. It made Near furious that his love was so easily placated by L's lies, but Mihael had proved time and time again to be too trusting to his legendary superior. No, L had a real identity. And it was tied to the Loginovs somehow. He just had to be. Why else would the man funnel his profits into their family? Was he a cousin?

Near went back through the known Loginov family tree, but hit dead ends at every turn. They were all accounted for and they were all not L.

Infiltrating L's network of his most trusted agents had not been easy and Near had not been patient. He had gotten in far enough to actually see the man, see the face behind the taunting voice he'd been fighting against for years. It had felt like victory and he had pulled the trigger too soon. He had thought he'd discovered enough and he'd let himself get run away with his own plans.

Well, not this time.

This time he was going to make sure he knew every ounce of L's dirty laundry and make sure he'd torn through every last piece of information before pulling the trigger.

Near had learned patience, had learned calm, and would not lose again. Besides, this time, he already had his prize. He glanced over into the other room where Mihael was napping.

Flipping on the TV on a whim, he frowned as he saw the news headline. Something stupid about an international rapper visiting Moscow on vacation. Unnecessary information. He turned it off and returned to studying the Loginov family tree. Maybe he was in one of the smaller families? Not a true Loginov?

Near rubbed his eyes wearily and grabbed a pack of cards out from under the coffee table. Building a castle sounded nice.

Mihael turned on the TV in his room, waking up from his post-coital nap after hearing Near cuss fluently in English about some 'clusterfuck of a mafia family' or something like that before the familiar sounds of cards slapping down on a wooden table began. Flipping on the screen, he was hit with the news channel. Leaning up on his elbows, he watched for a few moments before his eyes widened.

L was on the screen.

Only he wasn't L, he was Lawliet, and it was one of the few times Mihael had actually seen the man pretend to be himself. He was with some famous pop star, and Mihael knew that he would never actually let himself be caught on camera if it weren't to pass along the message that he knew Mihael could get no other way.

Boss Baby was back in town.

And fuck it if he wasn't gunning for blood.

Near's blood.

Shit. Mihael loved Near, he did. Near was his other half, his equal, and the only man to set his blood on fire better than vodka could ever do.

But L was the real Law, no matter Near's claims to the title. And L was bratva. Family when Mihael had had none. He had grown up with Lawliet, he had been there when he became L. Mihael was L's man, and that could not and would not change because of Near.

Mihael heard Near's phone go off and then his love's quiet voice.

A few moments later he heard the phone being thrown across the room.

"Near?" Near was standing in the middle of the room with a half finished card tower in front of him, cold fury leaking off of him in slow waves. Mihael had only seen Near this angry once before and it had been right before he'd gotten his scars.

"L is playing games. I'm sorry I overreacted and woke you up." Mihael arched an eyebrow.

"What games?" Near took a small breath and sat back down in front of his card tower.

"He called and threatened me with assassination. Said he knew I was sniffing after the Loginov family, and if I wanted to tangle with them then he'd just send Mello after me." Mihael froze.

No.

No, L couldn't…He couldn't expect Mello to do that.

"Mello? The Loginov's hit man? L doesn't work for the Loginov's, I've told you that. It's an empty threat. L's powerful, but the Loginov's aren't going to just lend out their best men for him." Near scoffed.

"And I've told you that I have every reason to believe that he does. L is not the man you think he is, Mihael." Near gave him a sympathetic look. "And quite frankly, he's L and Mello's a known monster. I'm sure the fuck would chop off whoever's head L pointed out. Luckily, there's no way Mello could ever track me down." Mihael clenched his hand tightly for a moment, missing dearly the guns Near had taken.

God the man could be an idiot. For all of his brilliance, he seemed absolutely determined to believe that Mihael was nothing more than a child L had recruited into his twisted little prized collection of agents. That Mihael just liked the rush of working for L and did nothing more than the planning and organization tasks L had let Mihael show when Near had been around. Even then, he'd been suspicious of their new recruit. And even after working for L, Near still hadn't figured the greatest trick of all.

There were no true agents, not at the top anyways. They were all Loginovs or Loginov loyals. They just operated under different handles when working for L. Big Daddy had arranged the whole thing the moment L had turned fifteen and decided he wanted a more active role in planning out their various illegal activities. Mihael was L's right hand man, his assistant that handled the details while L crafted his schemes.

Mello was Alexei Loginov's personal hit man, taking out whoever dared cross his brotherhood's front lines.

They were one in the same and despite the fact that Mihael had repeatedly dropped hints to Near, the man had still refused to see the truth. Still scoffed whenever Mihael alluded to Mello's kills that were his own.

And now Mello was being called in by L where only Mihael was supposed to be present.

Dammit.

"I need a smoke." Mihael muttered, grabbing one of Mail's packs. He'd grown to quite like the chatty South African over the last couple of days, despite the fact that man mostly bitched about the weather and talked about big breasted women. He was normal, at least as normal as anyone in their line of work got, and Mihael enjoyed that.

Near frowned.

"You should stop smoking, it's bad for you."

Mihael just scowled.

Author's Note- Well there ya go. Happy bday Light, sorry I'm a day late. This chapter's a bit weird I feel, but I had to get a lot of explanation/background shit out of the way, so whatever. Hopefully you like it. If not, I'm not that fussed. This is crack, remember?

Anyways, I think I made it pretty clear, but if someone's super confused about the whole L/Lawliet Mihael/Mello thing, lemme know. Basically, the end point is that Alexei is a foresighted motherfucker that I cannot wait to write about. Such daddy issues there people.

Let me know your thoughts! Also, if you're reading this and not reading my other fics, you have such problems. Such problems. Go read them, there's real plot in those.

Thanks for reading, drop me a line!