AN- Bah, Work ate me. I have no excuses other than I am seriously considering putting in my two week's notice. My ACT test date is June 14th Ladies and Gentlemen, and I will need every BIT of good will I can get. So you know...think happy thoughts for Kani.
And...enjoy this chapter. I think you will.
XXXX
The rain fell in torrents for three months, and life outside the cover of a roof came to a complete standstill. Tokyo still swarmed with people, its street full of bedraggled pedestrians making their way to and from their various places of work, but a certain quiet settled over the city with the coming of the yearly storms. The subway was crowded, filled with the scent of damp fabrics and cigarettes, and to walk the sidewalk was to arrive wherever one was headed completely drenched. There were few other options at that time of year, however, and the general population adjusted accordingly. It was still a miserable season, but a relatively short one. The daily grind of traffic hardly faltered. The sweeping winds tore through the skyscrapers and made the rain cold and harsh from one moment to the next…but in their wake was the quiet lull of a tropical storm, with the warmth of a summer day clinging pervasively to the edge of its fury.
It was hardly the ideal weather for the bureau to move in, but the idea of an updated headquarters made the employees restless. Much to Takimura's ire, L had sold a small grant of land to the department for its cooperation with his wishes, and while the Bureau had plenty of money, strategic land was hard to come by. It rained constantly as trucks were loaded one by one over the course of a month as various departments changed location. The incessant patter of rain quieted only for a day or two at a time at most, but the move to the new Headquarters was under full sway three weeks after the transaction was complete. They'd moved ten blocks closer to the city heart, which would make for better response time in the immediate area. The various branches that used to reside in smaller buildings throughout the city could now be joined as a single unit in the tall skyscraper. L had purchased the building from another company and it was large and spacious. What he'd been using it for before selling it to them was anyone's guess. Light made a note to weasel that information out of him eventually.
More space meant that he finally got his own private office. Of course, the entire team did, and almost in the same order that they'd shared desks in, but it was the first time since he leapt onto the figurative corporate ladder that he'd had something of his own to defend. He was relishing the idea of forcing Takimura to come to his office to settle their disputes instead of waiting hand and foot on the bastard in his own territory. At the end of the hall, there was still an open floor for those who remained unproven and those who just preferred it. Light himself was only granted his office after a senior officer decided that he was simply too old-fashioned and claustrophobic to work in an enclosed space. With his father at his left and Matsuda at his right, he found the transition went smoother than any one of them had expected, with the flow of communication and information still open despite the walls between them. Also, for the first time, he felt that his desk and its contents were secure. Before, he'd locked his drawers religiously and refused to leave his station until his monitor went black…working with important and often confidential files dictated a certain amount of paranoia, one that an open-floor workspace hadn't satisfied. Now, perhaps, he could walk away mid-report for coffee without forcing a password-protected screensaver onto his system. Whatever security rigs L designed were already far more advanced than the ones that the old headquarters could ever hope to buy, much less maintain. Granted, as a shrewd businessman, L had charged them for this little bonus, but it wasn't something that anyone was willing to refute the necessity of. The increase in security was at once frustrating and soothing, but most employees were taking the added measures in stride because everyone in his department understood that it was a good change, though a bit time consuming. Personally, Light thought the retina scan at the Special Detectives Division was a little much, and intended to tell him that later.
He was beneath his desk, running the wires for his printer, with the steady beat of the weather against the glass of his new window. Mentally, he was cataloguing the changes made in the last few weeks, reflecting over the small errors that had been made and what steps he could take to either fix or better yet, ignore them entirely. He knew that the local branch of the state attorneys had taken up residence two floors below. Overall that was an intelligent choice by the bureau, because it allowed the lawyers easy access to the facts and evidence. Above him were the laboratories, a place where Aizawa would likely be found more often than not. Of all the detectives on L's Provision he was the only one to decline an office when offered. He felt that he dealt more with the forensics and their paper work anyway, so whatever case files he used would have to be carried between the departments. Light was amazed at how he managed to move most of his work station with him…he used to judge the older detectives stress level by the number of pins haphazardly shoved into his afro. He'd shaved lately, so that was no longer an option, but it still was a common sight to see him with a pen in each ear, reading while he stalked the building.
The bundle of wires refused to give way beneath his fingers…Matsuda had decided to be a cheery neighbor and help him pack up. He was sure that, if he were to call the man in to help, Matsuda would simply tug a cord and the knot would unravel as though it had never been there…however, he was too stubborn and likely his current efforts had rendered said trip-cord useless by binding it into an incomprehensible tangle of wires. Light sighed and let his thoughts drift again, hoping that maybe his fingers would solve it faster if he didn't focus on the puzzle so intensely. The top floor of the building was the morgue, ironically enough. In order of ascension, the different departments were hedged into the building with tighter and tighter security. His floor, the Special Detectives, denoted the first of the Federal Bureau floors, and the first of the high-clearance sections. There were five floors after him, all with the same depth of intensity and confidentiality. Rank followed a simple pattern…Detectives, Evidence, Biological Labs, Chemical Labs, and the Morgue itself. The logic was that if anything in the Chemical lab caught fire, the bodies in the Morgue would have been thoroughly examined and all evidence and photos meticulously catalogued, so their loss wouldn't be all that tragic. The DNA testing and all floors that required an undue amount of paperwork were placed below the department most likely to make things explode.
His cell phone was ringing. He sighed and tugged the thing from his pocket, making a mental effort to not sound exasperated when he answered. "Hello?"
"Ah, an actual greeting this time. Light-kun's telephone skills are improving."
Light refused to roll eyes as he returned to his position on the floor and continued threading the USB cable through the clamp beneath his desk. "May I ask what is so important that it warrants a phone call?"
"I am bored."
"Well, that's fascinating L." The detective gritted his teeth as the wire slipped from his fingers.
The bored curiosity in that voice would have been more irritating only if the detective were actually peering over his shoulder. "What is Light-kun doing?"
"Light-kun," Light muttered darkly, "Is wrist deep in computer parts and would like very much to call you back later."
"I will not be available later, Light-kun." Came the flippant reply, and he could imagine the half-smirk that undoubtedly painted the man's face. There was a slight change in tone and his voice became distorted…likely around a piece of hard candy. "That is why I called you now."
"…Sometimes I wonder if you listen to yourself talk."
"Light-kun is implying that I am self-centered." Yes that was definitely hard candy in the detective's cheek…probably a caramel. He liked those.
"I am not."
"It is in your tone."
Why did he know that L liked caramels?
"L, I am incredibly busy at the moment." Light finally worked his goal free and thrust his hands back into the ball of wires. At this point, he was frustrated enough to ask for Matsuda's help, but the detective happened to be gone to lunch. Irony. "Can you not call me back?"
"I just informed Light-kun that I will not be available later. Does he wish to hear my reason for calling or not?"
"I though we established that you were merely bored."
"No, that was merely the first reason that I stated. There is more."
Light knew the detective was drawing the conversation out. His evasive answers only served to make Light dig and grasp at the threads of the talk until he sustained something resembling a cohesive exchange. Right now, with his fingers tangled in the internal workings of the company's Ethernet, he found he hardly had the patience to play cat and mouse with his friend. "Look, you either talk or I'm hanging up. I'm working."
"No need to be rude. I have done something childish, I'm afraid."
Light jammed a cable into its socket with a small twinge of victory. The external hard-drive next to his laptop blinked and whirred to life. It was one piece in place, at least. "And that would be?"
"I have purchased a vehicle."
Vehicle.
"What?" The word effectively cut through his other mental processes and his hands stilled, the computer falling to the corners of his thought, if it remained there at all. "You bought a car?"
"Yes."
"…Why?"
"I was bored. I have already confessed that it was childish, so stifle your cutting witticisms. It is already done."
Light felt his mouth water as a boyish excitement awoke in his chest. He propped himself up on his elbows and waited. The detective was silent, and after a moment, he prompted, "Well?"
"Well what?" The detective was teasing him. That was…almost a good thing in this situation. It boded well at least.
"What kind, L?"
"Light-kun is truly not going to scold me?"
"I would if-"
"If it hadn't been a car." The smirk was so strong in the detective's voice that Light could see it when he closed his eyes. The irritation of being interrupted didn't really register as the thought of a new shiny something captured his imagination.
"Yes, exactly. So…what kind of car?"
"…A foreign one."
Light opened his mouth and bit his tongue in the space of a breath. He'd been lusting after Watari's Bentley for years now, and still the thought of the smooth black machine made his mouth water, just a little. Riding in it, driving it, would be breathtaking even if Light drove like a normal person. The thought of another foreign vehicle…he felt like Christmas had come early. "And?"
"And, it's red."
Red. A red, foreign car. Light gave up on the computer entirely and sat up beneath his desk, almost cracking his head on the keyboard tray. "Really now?"
XXXX
L had bought a new car. Light found himself grinning, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the elevator lights in a sort of daze. Whatever had possessed the detective to spend his money was beyond Light, but it didn't really matter. If L bought a new car, that meant he intended to ride in it. Watari was getting a little older to constantly play the chauffeur and L was trying to convince him to retire. The old man was stubborn, but still, when the weather was bad or cold and his knees began to ache, Light was the second option for the job. Whenever L was in town, and especially when Watari was ailing, Light often found himself behind the wheel. Whenever L assisted on cases, he rode in Light's cruiser to avoid attention…and for the company.
So, if L bought a new car, that meant that, eventually (Soon.)…Light would be driving it.
A red foreign car for him to play with. He never found automobiles relevant enough to study, even as a hobby, but he'd heard things about some of the foreign machines…long, sleek beasts with engines that could reach speeds no one should ever drive at. Ever. Not anyone.
It wasn't until the doors opened much too soon that he realized the elevator had even stopped. He pulled his eyes from the floor numbers and abruptly his grin eased into something colder and false. Teru Mikami stood waiting on the other side of the mechanized gate, and for a moment, neither spoke. He adjusted his glasses frostily, and Light regained himself enough to step aside and allow him room to enter.
The lawyer stepped in and reached across Light's chest to put in his floor number. The small motion was rude, if for no other reason than Light's hand was already rising, and the question lay on his tongue. Both dropped without regret, and Mikami pulled back to straighten his tie.
They were silent for a long moment as floors ticked by.
And damn him, but it was Mikami that broke it. His voice was unfailingly brisk.
"Going to Lunch, Yagami?"
"I'm taking my hour yes." It wouldn't do to have people know that he was really just going down the garage to meet a world famous detective and play in his new car. That just…couldn't happen.
"I see." Mikami replied easily enough, his dark eyes flickering to Light's face for a moment. "And they say that you're so diligent…."
…The implied insult made Light take his gaze from the floor register and watch the man. It was a level stare that usually sent even Matsuda cowering into his paperwork…and to his surprise, Mikami merely smiled and clasped both hands on his case-handle.
"They say a lot about you, Yagami-san. For instance, did you really do an intensive background check on the model Misa Amane? Merely so that Touta-san could date her with a clean conscience?"
"That is none of your concern."
"Ah, I see. What a waste of your supposed talent. It must be surprising, to know that not everyone in the bureau is impressed with you. Your arrogance is also infamous."
"Have I done something that offends you, Teru Mikami?"
The man chuckled, turning cold eyes to him now. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I just thought you should know that L's words hold no sway with me, and you…well…you're nothing but another intern that got lucky. Riding your father's influence."
"…My father had more to do with my career than L, and he himself holds little 'influence' with anyone."
"Oh, so modest? Tell me, Yagami-san, they must be lying about you."
There was a brief moment of silence, and in the end, it was Light that turned the confrontation into a challenge. He turned to face the lawyer and regarded him openly, sizing him as though the simple conversation would become physical at some point in time. Mikami turned his head, peering at him through thin frames with a small smile upon his face.
Light returned his dead stare. "Tell me what you've heard, and I'll tell you what they've lied about."
"…Ah, it's simply a matter of the office gossip." The lawyer appraised him slowly, and Light's expression darkened. "I suppose in the end that I merely wanted to see you for myself."
"And you're basing your opinion of me upon a brief confrontation in an elevator. How stereotypically shallow."
"I'm a lawyer. My first impressions are usually my only impressions." The glasses shifted again on the bridge on his nose. "…And they are rarely wrong."
"Would it be arrogant of me to ask what you think now that you've…met me?" Light's sneer poisoned the close quarters, he was sure of it. Mikami seemed annoyingly unaffected.
"Now, that I've met you? Hmm…." Mikami rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and Light immediately remembered that L was waiting for him fourteen floors down. He…felt better.
The elevators doors slid open, and Mikami chuckled darkly to himself. "To be frank, I'd say that while you are quite pretty, your sense of accomplishment is woefully misplaced. Have a nice day, Yagami-san."
Light's head tilted to the side as he wondered briefly what it would be like to throw Mikami's retreating figure down a flight of stairs.
XXXX
It was red. Oh, it was red, and wholly beautiful. L leaned against the passenger side door, scratching at his calf with a bare foot while Watari waited off to one side. Light was smiling before he ever stepped through the elevator doors, his…discussion with Mikami momentarily forgotten in the bliss of the sight. Both of the other men fixed him with equal expressions, L just shaking his head and Watari stroking his mustache in amusement.
Light didn't care because it was red, and it was beautiful.
L stepped forward and Light playfully ducked around him to lean into the open top and stare at the dash board. The convertible was new, so new that the leather shone dully, gleaming even the dim lighting of the garage. L chuckled too as he righted himself again, and stalked the length of the vehicle, glowing.
"I see that it meets your approval."
And in that second, that brief, terrifying second, Light entertained the notion that L had purchased this vehicle for him. He shivered, shrugged, and pushed it aside, settling himself in front of the hood impatiently. Watari immediately opened the driver's side and popped it for him. Upon lifting the glistening cover, he stared in wonder at the cleanest, most fascinating engine he'd ever laid eyes upon.
L sidled up to him, watching the expression on his face. "You have no idea what you're looking at."
"No, but it's damn pretty." That simple truth being stated, he shut the hood again, smoothing his palms over the paint. "So…"
L merely quirked an eyebrow at him. "So?"
Light wordlessly held his hand out.
"Light-kun…," L drawled slowly, "Expects to drive my new car?"
There was a tense moment, and Light's eyes narrowed, his grin slipping from boyish to mischievous. "Are you going to tell me no?"
L managed to hold his expression for one terrifying second before being forced to bite his thumb to stifle a grin. Light only chuckled as he slowly rounded the side and eased into the open seat. Leather creaked beneath his weight, and he noticed that, prior to his arrival, the seat had been adjusted to fit his measurements. He smirked through the windshield at the detective. "Never any doubt in your mind."
The corners of his lips curled, and Light internally crowed his victory. Taunting, the detective meandered around to the passenger side and climbed in. He didn't buckle up, which was a damn shame, because Light had honestly wanted to rip the tires up on his way out, but it was a subtle, firm command that they wouldn't be going anywhere. He tried not to look crestfallen when the older man didn't reach for his belt.
Instead, the detective merely dangled the keys between them, shiny and silver over the gear shift.
Just to torture himself, Light hesitated before snatching them. Watari moved to lean on another vehicle, watching the boys play with his cane tucked beneath his hands. Light flashed him a smile before biting his lip and turning the engine over…
"Oh, wow." …And leaning back as the beast beneath that hood rippled to life like a panther purring. He braced an elbow on the window sill and just grinned, cheek on his fist with his legs vibrating slowly behind that powerful force. He eyes wandered the dash with an artist's, or more accurately lover's, detail, taking in every dial and highlighted number. He wrapped his hand around the gear shift, and sighed.
Swallowing his pride, he cast a pleading look at L.
The detective deadpanned. "No."
A pout? Never. A pathetic, whining sort of stare?...Light could do that. Yes, he could.
"No, Light-kun."
"…You stole my gun."
"…You do not play fairly." The detective ceded, irritably staring straight ahead. Again, the insane notion that this was really his car, came back, but he quelled it…he'd already had his arrogance pointed out to him in less than friendly circumstances once that day.
"What is the matter?"
"Hmm? Nothing really." Nothing that smoothing his palms over that crisp steering wheel couldn't fix, at least. God, this car….
"Something is bothering you."
He wouldn't drop it, Light knew from experience. Damn Mikami…he couldn't have annoyed Light more unless he came and clambered into the backseat with them. "I met someone today who honestly dislikes me."
"…It upset you?"
"Disconcerting, really. That's all."
"…You're so vain, Light-kun."
Light chuckled then, smiling at him. Why did hearing it from L make him feel better? "Yeah, I suppose I am."
L appraised him for a moment, studying him carefully. The focus was back, and Light shifted just a bit to find that stare on him with so little warning. The smile on his lips faltered, because the last time he'd seen it, he'd been in a…compromising position to say the least. Had he been younger, he might have blushed furiously, and even despite his self control, a faint heat rose to his cheeks.
L blinked. If he'd noticed the faint color, he'd decided to gloss over it for now. "We must not leave the garage, nor exceed twenty miles an hour while in it."
Light shivered, a pleasant tingle running down his spine. Twenty miles an hour…a lot could be done with twenty miles an hour.
"And none of your heroics. This car has exactly the fifteen miles to here from the airport, Light-kun…it is that new." L warned, nibbling at his thumb. "And you will be careful with it."
"Yes, Daddy."
"I will make you mean it if you scratch this beast within the first hour, are we clear?"
Light merely quirked an eyebrow at him. The detective grunted and reached for his belt. After a few moments of glancing around, Light found the window controls and raised them both. A second perusal found the convertible's top control, and he brought that whirring slowly overhead, muttering under his breath in way of explanation, "If I feel the wind in my hair, we're breaking fifty, I can tell you right now."
L said nothing in regard to that.
Light shifted the car into gear, and it barely hitched, the transition also as smooth as a panther crouching. He laughed silently, biting his lip again when he eased off the brake and it moved of its own accord, inching forward. Curious, he applied the brake again and revved the motor.
A steady, pulsing roar, and Light nearly melted in his seat. "Oh, wow."
"You seem pleased."
Light glanced at the man curiously as he eased forward, pulling the engine to ten miles and no further. That was the second time in this brief conversation that L had underhandedly asked him for his approval of the purchase. L usually never questioned his decisions. The fact that he was staring straight ahead while his toes worked the leather bucket seat said that he was concerned with it.
"I love it."
"That is good." And to Light's utter surprise, the detective relaxed. Visibly shifted his weight to sit fully in the seat instead of perching upon it, and relaxed. The slope of his shoulders softened, his hands came to rest upon his drawn knees, and the toes stilled. Small, insignificant changes, granted, but they were things Light noticed easily after his years of practice.
He turned a corner and asked carefully, "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing."
"L." Light didn't have to stare at him…his tone served him well enough. They found a ramp, and the younger detective discovered he could stop on a dime if he wanted as they changed floors.
"I have merely been thinking, Light-kun."
And just like that, the cabin of the small car was stifling, unbearably small. As easily as the words left his lips, a tension sprung up between them like a fine wire, held taut only as long as one was unwilling to let it go. It hung there as Light drove, suspended by the silence, and accentuated terribly by the purr of the engine.
If he hadn't meant about the last concert, Light didn't know what else it could have been. Of course, that was extremely arrogant in light of the fact that L had practically had a child run away a handful of weeks ago. Even if that had been his original subject, Light's hesitation to answer had surely put him in mind of the last time the two of them were in a car together. Alone.
Unwatched, and unguarded in every sense of the word.
God, but this man made him paranoid…atheist that he was. His breathing evened out by force of habit even as he ran his tongue over the sharp edge of his teeth behind his lips. The tinted windows put him mind very much of the limo's, dark from the outside and dim within. The lighting was bad enough already, just as it had been in…in the last garage.
When L touched him.
He slowed to a stop, so very aware that L was just at his elbow. Pausing in the middle of the garage lane, he reined in the beast of his memory and the one beneath his hands, and just sat there. The silence hung, stretched heavy and hollow between them, a silent acknowledgement of just how much…how very much, had changed.
He turned his chestnut eyes to L's profile and waited, demanding proof of his own nagging suspicions.
It didn't take long.
Slowly, so slowly, like the retreating curl of a leaf, L's shoulders drew up again beneath his stare.
He licked his lips and stated more than asked, "Thinking."
"…Yes." And the furtive glance, a mere twitch of those dark, powerful eyes in his direction was all he needed to know that yes…that was exactly what the detective meant.
His breathing evened out again, slowed into something deeper as he looked away again, eyeing the end of the lane and the wall there. Slowly, so slowly, he eased his foot off of the brake and allowed the car to move a few feet. A second's decision, and it was really more of a thought that translated itself into action as he eased it into an empty space between two other vehicles. The lights dimmed further when presented with the higher walls on both sides of them, and L's breath caught as his hand strayed to the gearshift to put it in park.
They sat there for a moment, the engine still purring quietly under the hood, still wreaking havoc on both sets of nerves. Light leaned back in his seat, forced himself to relax, to be rational before he opened his mouth to speak again. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was saying to begin with and it was better…it was almost better not to broach the subject at all.
"L…."
"Yes?" It was quiet, lower than he'd expected, but it wasn't a tone he hadn't heard before.
"This isn't…some…consolation prize is it?"
"…Do you feel that you've lost something?" L did turn to look at him then, and the dim light had to have been adding to that stare, because really…it wasn't humanly possible to lock the words so tightly in a grown man's throat. It just…couldn't be.
"I think…we both did."
"Do you? I rather think that we've merely…realigned."
"Into what?" Light asked simply, honestly.
The detective opened his mouth, and snapped it shut, turning to press his lips to his knee. Light pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "L…how long are you going to run from this conversation?"
"…Until your expression stops begging me to, I suppose."
Light frowned, turning in his seat to better face the detective. "L…listen…."
"Perhaps," L turned to look at him again, and it was Light's turn to tense, "I do not wish to listen, Light."
And, oh god.
Oh god.
His heart fell to pieces, beating evenly, harshly in his ears, because that was not…that wasn't…that couldn't be what L meant. No. It wasn't possible.
He couldn't imagine his own expression, dimly aware of the fact that his lips hung slightly parted and his eyes were wide. Heat crept its way across his cheeks, and Light pulled inward, just a little bit, away from the man at his side. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move.
Because L was smirking at him, watching his every twitch, and Light felt that stare all the way to his toes. This was not the concert, when he'd unknowingly trapped Light in this perilous situation, blind and deaf to the event. This was not the tennis match, when both were in their element and fighting a battle for control, with a winner, and a loser. No, these lines weren't as pretty as that. They weren't even as distinct as the episode in his floor when both were half-drunk with exhaustion and relying on sheer, second-by-second, blow-by-blow instinct to guide them. This wasn't even comparable to the…to the limo, and L had actually put his hands on him then.
No, this was something entirely different. This was something challenging, a threat, a boast, an invitation, and an attack. It took the last threads of balance they had in this strange little game and wrapped them around Light's throat.
An entirely different brand of tension began to snake its fingers up his spine, ghostly, invasive, and rooted in those level eyes. It curled through his stomach, painted itself along his bones until his teeth worried at his lips for lack of a better function…he couldn't speak…that seemed blasphemous after…after this.
Whatever the hell this was.
There was a time for this…and a place.
It wasn't here…it wasn't now, but this was when…he wanted. Want…that was a good term for the tension that tore him two directions, pressing him against the window when the detective sat a mere two feet from him, waiting inexorably for a response of some kind.
His hand fisted on the steering wheel, white knuckled as the tiny tremors of the still turning engine moved through his legs and stomach. Slowly, so slowly, he dropped those eyes, and muttered words that didn't register until they were spoken.
"Perhaps listening is overrated."
L's feet eased to the ground. "Perhaps talking is as well."
Oh god. Oh god, he was trapped there. It used to help, to look away. It used to be some form of relief, to pull away and out of that gaze like this, but no, there was nothing here. He stared at the small emblem on the center of the staring wheel while L uncurled himself, his hand almost shaking on the crisp leather against his palm.
Silence…the silence would be the death of him. Nothing but the purr, and the sound of his own breathing, his heavy, uneven, frantic intake of breath that surely betrayed him.
He waited what seemed an eternity, but no matter how long it took L to move, it would always be too fast. Light managed not to flinch as the detective's hand rose, inch by inch, as though waiting to be batted away. Surely, the Light that climbed into the limo with him the first night would back in his office by now, hiding for the sake of his sanity, but that Light wasn't…real, anymore. There was only the man he was now, the one that didn't move when that hand reached for him, ghosted inches from the fevered skin of his cheek to hesitate above his hair.
It was a small motion, without contact, as L trailed his open palm from the crown of his rich hair down in an empty pet to the nape of his neck. Light's chin fell, his eyes closed and he felt a tremor race his spine, but when L finally did touch him, it rocked through his blood as nothing before ever had. It was a small thing, a lacing of those slender fingers into his hair, clenching lightly and tilting his head back, back. He went easily, unsure of himself, or even if he could manage the next inhale.
The grip shifted just slightly, and cool fingers wrapped around the back of his neck and rested there. He waited, waited, and they tightened, holding him in earnest now, and L turned his head to look in his direction, fingertips sharp in the hot skin.
Light opened his eyes.
L's head leaned against the plush headrest, watching him with the evasive smile still painting his lips as he searched the other's expression. He found nothing but compliance, much as Light hated to confess it, and it seemed encouragement enough, because the hand returned to his hair then.
Fisted sharply, made him stiffen, his air coming shallow to his lungs as pleasure closed his eyes again.
He didn't mean to speak. "What have you done to me?"
"I just like it better when you look at me, Light."
His eyes opened again, and the tilt of L's head became something slightly more feral. His smirk deepened, his other hand coming up while his eyes watched the younger detective like something wild he'd cornered. Light tensed, pulled away, but the possessive grip in his hair tightened, and he allowed it, leaning slightly towards the detective now. His entire body hummed when that hand ghosted fingers down his left cheek and on, to skim the sensitive skin of his throat. Twice, he'd trusted the detective with something so intimate, and the skim of cool fingertips over his frantic pulse was intoxicating, smooth and hardly there.
They tilted his chin up slightly, a thumb straying towards his lips…
And then the detective closed his eyes.
"You…should be getting back to work. We can have this…discussion elsewhere, when you have no prior obligations."
The hands left him, slowly, reluctantly trailing over his shoulder as he leaned into his own seat for support and stared at the man across from him, wondering what had happened to the paranoid, frightened boy they'd both known only years ago.
"I should."
"…I do not want you to."
"I need to."
"No…." L's eyes strayed to the dashboard, sweeping over the frame. "Come for a ride with me. We can take it up the mountain, to the park that you're so fond of."
"…And then?"
L's eyes returned to his briefly before falling away again. His knees slowly drew up from the floor as he released whatever hold he'd had in favor of self-control. "I do not know."
Light glanced away, licking his lips. He brought his eyes back, his words careful. "What do you want to do?"
L merely rested his head upon his knees and drew a deep breath.
"Talking is overrated. Roll the windows down."
XXXX
AN- Ah my poor boys. What have I done to you?
Anyone else think that was a horrible tease? I mean really, hands in the air. -raises hand- I am guilty!
Step Lightly and Good Night.