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"Casualties of war," L said, holding out a silver platter towards Ryuk, "Scone?"
Ryuk accepted one, even though he was not particularly partial to sweets.
"You seem nervous," L said, licking a strawberry tart thoughtfully, "There is no need to be, my friend. You have proven your loyalty to me time and again; you have even bled for me and for that, I am thankful."
Ryuk stared at L, unable to help the swelling of pride; he had so much respect for this man.
"You clawed your way up from the bottom," L said, licking frosting off of his fingers, "like me. You understand the balance of life and death; you are a shinigami, after all."
Ryuk nodded once, the title all-too familiar. Shinigami was the name of one of Lawliet's most popular clubs, but it was also a title given to a select few of Lawliet's inner circle. Shinigami was a prestigious title, as close to the top of the tier as Ryuk could ever hope to get. The only title higher than a Shinigami was the Buchou himself.
Ryuk, Matt, and Mello were the only ones to carry the title and, Ryuk supposed, Beyond Birthday, although he was in a league all of his own. The Shinigami were, essentially, L's special-ops team, his personal attack dogs, his bodyguards, his marines. Whenever there was something that was too important to give to any of the other various underlings, L called on his Shinigami.
"So, shinigami," L continued, pouring himself another cup of tea, "Please see to Light-kun in my absence. I must admit, he is still quite wild. Handle him however you deem necessary."
Ryuk tried to control the dueling emotions: one side of him was shrieking with joy at being given such an opportunity. The other side, however, was still appalled at what he had done in betraying the caramel boy. How could he face Light? How would Light react? This was going to be an interesting experience.
"However," L said, "I have one condition…"
***
Beyond Birthday sat quietly in his cell, humming to himself. It was such a familiar tune, but he couldn't quite remember where it was from. Lawli had never sang it to him, and surely A had never sang it to him, so perhaps it was the memories of his long-ago mother, the mother that had abandoned the two young boys so many years ago.
"Bitch," BB murmured, dipping his hand into the small plastic container of strawberry jam. Since it was his staple food and he refused to eat anything else, the institution allowed BB rations of jam but only in silly plastic containers. Apparently, glass was too dangerous and unpredictable, just like BB.
"Wa-ha," BB chuckled, sliding his tongue over his jam-covered fingers, the smell and texture and taste turning him on, "Oh Lawli-pop, Lawli-pop, oh oh oh oh oh, Lawli-pop…"
He hummed his new made-up tune over and over again, beginning to slide his red-coated fingers over the blank white walls of his cell. He had been working on this mural all morning, and it was only a matter of time before an orderly made his daily rounds to check on the nutcases and discovered the disturbing artwork.
Beyond was actually a bit insulted that his cell was not monitored 24/7. Did that mean he wasn't dangerous enough? He wanted to be the best, and only the best were monitored 24/7. Perhaps he would need to step up his game and kill more people the next time he decided to teach Lawli a lesson.
"Lawlipop," BB breathed, shading in a new section of the wall with a little jam. He hated to waste his precious food, but sometimes his creative streaks cried for attention, and he had no other means of drawing or painting. (He had asked, very politely, if he could have some crayons, but apparently the doctors didn't even trust him with wax). BB was certain that the people thought him capable of anything, even killing someone with a crayon…and maybe they were right.
"Ah," BB sighed to himself, staring at his finished painting. It was gorgeous in his red eyes, "76% probability, Lawliet. 76%."
***
Light Yagami woke slowly, stretching his muscles, feeling the bruises, scrapes, and welts that would dot over his flesh. His back ached slightly, but it was a memory more than pain itself.
Light couldn't remember how many days it had been. Two? Five? Forty-seven? Between the windowless room and countless hours of Ryuzaki and his various aphrodisiacs and tortures, Light could even believe it had been less than a day. His mind, no matter how bright, was trapped in this place. He wasn't even sure if he would really want to know how long he had been a prisoner here, waiting for his execution. Ryuzaki had explained to him several times that he was to be a gift for a man named BB, and Light had instantly known why he was in this mess.
BB. Beyond Birthday. A fairly famous serial killer who had been caught in America and institutionalized in Japan. Light remembered the case, remembered when his father would come home late, exhausted and annoyed about the specifics of the case and the mounds of paperwork it had produced. Although Beyond Birthday had been born in England, he had been adopted and gained nationality in Japan under the care of a Mr. Walter Watari, a man whom the police heavily suspected of being involved with the yakuza's various prostitution rings and drug trades. Light didn't understand how this Walter Watari managed to keep anything from sticking to him: the man was getting along in years, and, to be frank, he dressed like the old-time American mobsters. He was never seen without a classy black suit, an expensive trench coat, and a boulder hat. Light even remembered seeing photos of the man being flanked by men that could only be body guards, and other photos were quick snapshots of the supposed-mobster playing chauffer to a man that could not be identified.
So, Ryuzaki was associated with not only a convicted serial killer, but he even had ties to a man that was, to the best of Light's knowledge and intuition, a big dog in the underworld. Light was trapped between hell and hellfire.
Light snapped to attention when he heard the bedroom door being opened, revealing a young woman with pigtails and too much makeup. He watched her walk across the room, holding a small strip of cloth in her hands, "Hello, Mr. Light."
Light stared at the girl: she was obviously under the influence of some substance. Her eyes were glassy, her speech bubbly, her hands a bit shaky. She was dressed provocatively in a black Lolita dress that would give any straight man a nosebleed.
"I'm Misa Misa," she continued, approaching him on the bed, "I'm sure you already knew that though, didn't you?"
Light stared at her, thinking she looked somewhat familiar, "Sorry. I don't think so."
"Hmph," she replied, her lips set into a pout, "Misa Misa? The Misa Misa? Lingerie model and pop-star sensation?"
"Oh," Light said, not impressed, "You're that teeny-bopper singer that's always in the press, stumbling around, always managing to show your underwear."
"Yep!" Misa chimed, as if Light had just realized she was the Queen of England, "That's me. But I'm not here to sing, or to entertain you, even though you have got to be one of the hottest toys Lawliet has ever managed to snag. Too bad you're a fag, though. I wouldn't mind you fucking me."
Well, Light thought, this girl sure was a charmer, not to mention blunt, "Why are you here, Misa?"
"To blindfold you!" she giggled, approaching him, "You have to be ready for your customer. Oh, I'm not allowed to say who, but oh God…" Misa acted as if her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, "You will not be disappointed."
Light uttered a few obscenities as Misa moved to his leg shackles, putting them back into place before he had realized she had touched the chains. Ryuzaki had allowed his feet to go free and one arm, but the other hand was still chained because he had mouthed off the day before. If he had managed to keep his temper, Light would have been in better shape to make an escape, "What are you doing?!"
"Getting you ready! He's going to be here soon!" Misa chided, strapping the blindfold around his head securely, "Stop flailing around: you know it doesn't do any good. You're never leaving this place: once you're his, you stay his. Forever."
Light felt chills go down his spine when Misa continued, "Or at least until you die."
***
Ryuk made his way down the hallway, following Marshmallow. He had appeared out of nowhere again, saying he was to escort Ryuk to the proper room.
Ryuk didn't know why the Marshmallow kid put him on edge, but he did. L had informed him that the little whore had an IQ nearly on par with his own and BB's; that he was a mathematical genius and a master strategist. How he had ended up in this world was beyond Ryuk: even if the kid did have a nice ass, what business did a genius have being a plaything?
Yeah, that's great, Ryuk thought. I'm about to fuck my own little genius.
Ryuk was hesitant, but he couldn't help himself. At least this way, he would be allowed to see for himself that the little caramel was still alive and breathing. Fucking was just a bonus.
What was he thinking? Ryuk shook his head, trying to clear it. He still didn't understand how he had grown attached to the college student: yeah, he was smart, and cute, and sexy, but there was something else that made Ryuk worry about him, think about him, want him more than anybody else Ryuk had ever wanted…
"This is it," Near said, his marshmallow head bobbing at the white door, "Yagami Light."
Ryuk felt his heart rate increase as Marshmallow said, "Remember what Buchou said. The room is tapped, but no video cameras. Lawliet will not be able to see anything that goes on, but he will be able to hear it."
Ryuk nodded, watching the boy disappear down another hallway, leaving him utterly alone.
Ryuk took another breath for courage, and opened the door.
***
What Ryuk saw immediately made him salivate.
Oh, God. Had he died and gone to heaven?
The scrumptious caramel boy was bound by chains at each bed post, a blindfold expertly applied as to keep Ryuk's identity hidden. Another strap was in Light's mouth, keeping him from making a fuss as the vibrator continued to penetrate him, his cock already weeping and his entrance wet.
Ryuk felt his own cock grow in response to all the visual stimulation, and he approached the bed.
"Nnnnn," Light moaned, realizing somebody else was in the room. Ryuk's only orders had been not to remove the blindfold, and he was not allowed to speak, no matter what Light said, he was not allowed to respond. It was a test of sorts, but Ryuk was willing to play.
Ryuk removed the strap from Light's mouth, admiring his rock-hard nipples before he licked his lips.
"Don't…" Light said, turning his head away, "Don't…look…"
Obviously his little caramel was embarrassed at this display. Obviously it wasn't too much torture: Ryuk could see how much Light was panting, his skin flushed, his cheeks burning. He was already ready to cum.
Ryuk sat next to him on the bed and began stroking his hands down Light's chest, admiring the whimpers Light was making, "Take…it out...!"
"Please…" Light asked, his voice starting to get angry, "This…is…embarrassing!"
Another minute passed, but Ryuk said nothing.
"Dammit, Ryuzaki!" Light yelled, thrashing side to side, "I hate you! I fucking hate you!"
Ryuk had had enough: he grabbed the boy's chin roughly and kissed him, thrusting his tongue into Light's before he could shout more obscenities. Light still struggled, biting Ryuk's lip roughly. Ryuk pulled away, holding in a stream of curses. Fuck! This was impossible. At least if he could talk…
But he couldn't. Unless Light figured out who he was. It was the only way to win the game. This was his challenge. Ryuk had said he would play, and he would win.
Ryuk carefully removed the vibrator, holding in a chuckle as Light made a moaning sound, half-relief and half-upset.
Ryuk let him pant a minute, then moved to position himself over Light, letting his tongue move smoothly over Light's throat and chest, making his way down to the naval. The benefit to this experience was Ryuk already knew Light's most sensitive spots, so if he hit them all one after the other, there was no way Light wouldn't guess who was doing this to him. Then again, Lawliet had had enough time with him to have figured out that much.
Ryuk continued even as Light yelled at him, calling him every dirty name in the book. Soon, Light was struggling to control his breath, his skin nearly twitching under Ryuk's gentle touches and caresses.
Ryuk had finally made it to Light's weeping cock. He licked it teasingly, enjoying the deep intake of breath Light made, "St – stop it! I don't want this…"
Yes, you do, Ryuk thought, taking it into his mouth and listening contentedly to Light's mewling. God, he could be so sexy.
Ryuk slipped one finger into Light's puckered entrance, allowing Light time to adjust to the intrusion. Sucking harder, Ryuk inserted another finger, followed by one more, until he had successfully stretched Light out as much as he could stand.
"Ah, ahnnn," Light moaned, breathing hoarsely, "Nnn…no...sto – stop…"
That only made Ryuk suck harder, taking the boy's cock as deep into his throat as possible. He had barely begun to massage it with his throat when he felt Light convulse, spilling his seed into Ryuk's mouth. Ryuk moved, covering his fingers in Light's cum and spreading it over his own rock-hard length.
Ryuk undid the shackles, flipping Light over so that his perfect-shaped ass was at Ryuk's disposal. He licked his lips, ignoring Light's panted grunts of pleas and dirty obscenities. Ryuk gripped Light's hips, pulling him up, positioning himself.
Light nearly screamed bloody murder when Ryuk entered him in one long, smooth motion. Ryuk grunted softly, unbelieving of the velvet tightness of his ex-boyfriend. Or were they still together? They had never really broken up, and Ryuk only grew harder thinking about how much he had wanted Light's ass and now he had it.
He was going to make Light realize he was not Ryuzaki, even if he had to split the caramel in half.
***
Mello snorted another line, already buzzing. He had done several lines earlier, but had had enough for two more lines. He stared at the empty blow packets, wishing he hadn't used it all so frivolously. It was already less than 24 hours until BB's release: why not celebrate? Fuck. To Mellow's thinking, it was a disaster. Mello had no patience for the boss's brother, and didn't like him. He was a psychopath who deserved to be locked up, and now that he was going to be running free again, Mello felt he deserved a little pick-me-up.
He wasn't an addict, but he did partake of it when he was feeling extremely stressed. He fell back on the couch, not really staring at anything in particular.
He was physically and mentally exhausted, so he knew he would sleep like the dead for at least two days. That was what he couldn't wait for: the blissful and dreamless sleep that he couldn't earn from eating mountains of chocolate.
Mello knew how Matt felt about drugs. Ryuk, L, and Matt all held the same belief: "Only sell, never do." Fuck that, Mello thought. They just didn't understand.
Or maybe they were just stronger. Mello ran a hand through his blonde hair, wondering to himself. Yes: maybe he was weaker than his comrades. Mello, no matter that he had been in this life since he was sixteen years old, still harbored quite a conscience.
And he hadn't seen Matt since Lawliet had ordered them back to Wammy's. They had parted ways, given different assignments. Lawliet had even apologized for sending them back to work so suddenly, and had promised once this next assignment was complete, he would give Matt and him an entire month off. No business. No Wammy's. No transporting. No spying. No nothing.
He ran a hand absently over his abdomen, tracing the lines of one of his tattoos. The gothic-style L greeted him, reminding him of his worth. It was one of the first tattoos he had received, along with the skull on his arm that symbolized QW. All members were required to have it, but the L tattoo was reserved for those specifically in L's service.
Mello was surprised to hear the front door open and close. He hadn't expected any company. He pulled his Berretta off the glass coffee table, pointing it at the hallway that would reveal the intruder.
Mello felt his muscles relax as Matt's red head came into view, his motorcycle goggles gone for a change. Mello tried not to salivate at the leather-jacket ensemble: it was rare when Matt looked so…dark. Black jeans, dark blue shirt, and black leather jacket. Mmmmm.
His hair was tousled, windblown, no doubt. Mello stiffly lowered his gun, placing it back on the coffee table, "What the fuck do you want?"
"Nice to see you too," Matt said, offering one of his heart-breaking half smiles.
"Why are you here?" Mello said, sitting up and grabbing one of his neglected candy bars, "Haven't seen you since Yagami Light."
Matt made his way to the couch, sitting and sighing, "I wanted to see you, but I had to finish another job first."
"What job?"
Mello pulled out a cigarette, lighting it before continuing, "Wanted me to rig the transports. Top-of-the-line sensory technology. Could blow up the whole motherfucking institution, but Lawliet wanted it done."
"Haha," Mello said, laying his head on Matt's shoulder, "The transports…fuck. Lawliet always has to have a back-up plan, huh?"
"He is L," Matt said, his hand trailing down Mello's thigh, "he will always think that way because he will never have a moment's peace. Unlike us."
Mello sighed as Matt shifted, going in for a kiss. Mello allowed it, actually quite in the mood for such things. This was the first relationship Mello had allowed himself to be a bottom: all through middle school and part of high school he had been a seme, but as soon as Matt had finally gotten his fingers on him, he had turned to soup. Although Matt was a very tender seme, Mello took advantage of that kawai attitude and was quite the bad-ass uke.
Mello's and Matt's tongues fought for control as Matt shifted them, making them more comfortable on the leather sofa. Matt quickly unzipped Mello's leather top, exposing the creamy flesh for Matt to worship. Matt quickly removed his leather jacket and shirt, giving Mello a view he would never tire over.
Matt's torso was from the gods, golden and beautiful and smooth. There were no scars on his front, although Matt had several battle scars across his back from gang wars that seemed an eternity ago. Matt smiled at the small gothic letter M that had been tattooed over Matt's heart, something Matt had had done about a year ago when they had decided to officially start "going out" even though they had been fucking for nearly four years on-and-off before that.
It made Mello's heart flutter to think about it: that M didn't stand for Matt or Mail. It stood for Mello. For Mikhael.
Mello sighed contentedly before pulling his boyfriend back to him, showering him in affectionate deep kisses, forgetting the drugs that were pumping through his system.
Fuck drugs. He was addicted to only two things: chocolate and Matt.
Matt quickly worked Mello's tight pants off, cursing quietly in Spanish as he worked to get the tight thing off of his boyfriend's ass. Mello usually went free-bird, so Matt didn't have to work on underwear. Mello tried to hurry it along too, attacking Matt's belt buckle with furious fingers, working quickly and sliding the zipper to reveal his favorite un-chocolate treat.
Mello pushed at Matt, ignoring his protests. Mello straddled him awkwardly, as the couch was not that big, and proceeded to lick at Matt's growing cock. Matt gasped at Mello's sudden drive of sexual hunger, but there was no way he was about to stop the chocoholic. Cursing in Spanish, Japanese, and Russian, Matt finally managed to roll Mello as safely off of the couch and onto the floor as he could, disentangling them and having Mello's back to the cold tile of the floor.
"I want you right now," Matt murmured in Russian, listening to Mello's gasps, "I want to fuck you so hard and long you'll go blind…"
Mello panted, reaching for Matt's face, trying to pull him to him, "Ah, Mail, do it! Fuck me!"
Matt smiled, kissing Mello passionately before aligning himself, "I love you, Mello."
Mello squealed as Matt entered him, hot and heavy. Mello couldn't even try to hold in his cries: he had always been loud in the bedroom. Well, they were in the living room now, but the circumstance had not changed. Mello was a screamer, and he let it be known that he was receiving pleasure.
And that just turned Matt on more. He got off on Mello's moans, mewls, and cries.
"F – fuck!" Mello panted as Matt began to move faster and faster, slapping their bodies together again and again, "Ahhhn, Mail, ah, fuck…!"
"I love you," Matt repeated again, this time in English. He would say it over and over again, even if Mello still was unable to do so. He repeated it in Spanish, Russian, and Japanese before Mello clawed at him, telling him to go faster, harder.
Matt became lost in the sensations, drowning himself in Mello's perfection, his pale skin contrasting his darker, golden tone.
"Ah, fuck, Matt!" Mello screamed, his muscles contracting harshly around Matt's cock, "I'm – I'm cumming…"
"Me…too," Matt grunted, plunging in for the last time and releasing his seed almost at the same time that Mello's stomach became covered in his own cum.
Matt fell on top of Mello, both trying to catch their breaths. Both bodies were satisfied, but Matt wondered if both hearts were as well.
So…what do you think? Will Ryuk reveal himself? Will BB go free (and what was the mural)? Will Light break? Will Soichiro save his son?
Stay tuned!!!
p.s: yes, there really was no point to the MattxMello smut. I just felt like writing it. I need smut to function. I'm trying to keep the plot going, but smut is necessary, people. Any complaints? That's what I thought. *evil grin. :P
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