Title: Lovely Boy
Author: Keraha
Rating: R
Warning: Situational spoiler for chapter 37. L/Light. Disturbing imagery.
Light wakes in a flash of red.
Ryuuzaki has looped the chain around his head, forcing it between his teeth. His jaw strains as Ryuuzaki pulls, stretching the sides of his mouth until it feels as though his cheeks will shred. His tongue presses against the links, the broad side of his tongue feeling the pinch and squeal of metal intersections.
"It's your birthday," Ryuuzaki says in his ear. He settles as dead weight on Light's back, forcing Light's neck back at an angle designed for long term discomfort. "And we have no candles or cake."
Light breathes heavily. He cannot close his mouth and his teeth scrape against the chain. He tries to swallow around the metal, but even so, spit gathers where the links rub against his mouth. It is disgusting, this feeling of almost-drool.
"What shall we do, Yagami Light?" Ryuuzaki asks, jerking the chain almost playfully. Light can imagine Ryuuzaki sitting on his back, holding the chains like reins. His own left arm is bent backwards, presumably for more give in the chain.
"Fuck you," Light wants to say, but no matter how his tongue twists and pushes in his mouth, he words do not form. He merely makes noises, struggles, and each movement brings spit to the corners of his mouth. He wishes Ryuuzaki would relax the chain enough for him to rub his cheek against the sheets.
Ryuuzaki does dirty, disgusting things to him. Explores his body with cool hands and an inquisitive touch. Tonight, the grime seems to accumulate at his lips, and it will only grow as it moves sluggish-slow down to his chin. Tonight, Ryuuzaki squats on his back, feet curled around Light's upper arms, and toes burrowing underneath like maggots.
Tonight, Ryuuzaki whispers things in his ear, makes him gasp past the chain, and forces him to remain still, so still, as Ryuuzaki's fingers roam his body.
"Isn't the chain interesting?" Ryuuzaki asks. "We can only be six feet apart, and yet it provides so much freedom. With it like this" he tugs at the chain still wrapped around Light's head, catching in his hair, "it reduces the give. Now, I have one hand and less room." He makes a noise, like one of discovery, and Light hates him just a little bit more.
But Light is careful not to make noise. He breathes harsh and heavy past the chain. He ignores the cold line of spit and ignores the hurt in his neck. He knows that if L were to gag him or cover his nose, it would be a slow path to unconsciousness.
Ryuuzaki shifts over him, whispers, "Light will not move his hands, yes?" and moves on.
Light knows that if he does move them, moves them anywhere from that frustrating place at his sides, Ryuuzaki will take them and tickle them, fingertips breezing gently over his palm.
Light hates being touched in some way that forces a physical reaction out of him. When Ryuuzaki touches his cock or nipples or that path down his arms, he closes his eyes against the reaction. But when Ryuuzaki spends time brushing over his sides or the soles of his feet, Light spasms with a want to laugh. It is physical in a way that he cannot explain; it is not biology, it ischildish. Ridiculous.
He twitches as Ryuuzaki's hand slips under his shirt and strokes over the side of his belly. As Ryuuzaki's hand repeats the movement, Light's own hands clench at his sides. It would be worse to move them. Light repeats it like a mantra, even tonguing the words against the chain.
Death, death, death.
Ryuuzaki is skilled at pulling reactions out of Light, and Ryuuzaki keeps with those feather touches until Light is panting with the effort not to writhe, either into the touches or away from them. His skin rises in goosebumps, and Ryuuzaki takes a moment to hover just above his skin. He brushes the hairs on Light's arms, sending an awful flutter to his shoulders which whispers into his groin.
"God," Light says helplessly against the chain, the syllable mutating into a groan.
"Light," Ryuuzaki says, enthralled by the human that is Light. "Yagami Light."
Light spasms hard. He is gasping, the muscles of his back quivering, and Ryuuzaki takes a moment to observe the tension.
Ryuuzaki says, "It is your birthday."
Light breathes like a horse, the drool pooling off of his chin, making a line with the sheets.
Ryuuzaki says, "You are one year older."
Light's eyes are shut now, wrinkles forming at the corners. His mouth is stretched wide open and Ryuuzaki loves the line of his jaw. It is a beautiful thing, the human body. Push it to its limits, and it transcends.
Ryuuzaki carefully drops his weight onto Light's back again, and Light quivers underneath him. It is so much sensation after hardly any, and somehow, it is too much. He keens, like a dog, and Ryuuzaki waits as Light arches, pushing into the bed, moving like the ocean.
When Light stops moving, Ryuuzaki lets the chain slowly relax in his grip. As he does so, the iron lines of tension trail out of Light.
Light is a puddle on the bed, limp like the chain pooled over his shoulder, and his chin lands just beside the wet spot of drool.
Ryuuzaki moves like a spider of Light's body to sit at his side. He moves part of the chain out from under Light's cheek and pets the indentations softly. They are harsh rectangular extensions of his lips, showing red like a smile, and Ryuuzaki knows they will fade by the time Light gets up in the morning for a shower.
Ryuuzaki watches as Light shudders, even in his sleep, and burrows a little deeper into the blanket.
It is Light's birthday, he thinks, but the words mean nothing to him. There is only this lovely boy, body softening into sleep.