Word count: 864

Ambiguity Among Two

"Stop thinking," Light murmured, lips too close to Ryuuzaki's hair. The detective squirmed under Light's intense presence, fingers clenching his knees. "Ryuuzaki…" Light said, making the hairs on the back of L's neck prickle, "Don't think at all."

Somehow, Ryuuzaki found himself locked in Light's embrace, struggling for air. He gasped and moaned silently against Light's starched, white shirt, choked against Light's sleeve cuffs, but Light hardly loosened his hold, nor did he remove his chin from the crook between L's shoulder and neck. The detective was paralyzed, mouth hanging open, eyes wide with shock; and though he imagined coarse protests escaping his throat, they never came.

L just clutched at Light so tightly his fingers hurt, lungs aching all the while.

It happened only once before. L barely registered that everything about Yagami Light had been harsher before, fiercer, like he had a purpose to fulfill and he couldn't get there fast enough. That time, L was scrutinizing a painfully bright screen, thinking about Light under the pretence of reviewing old data, when wham! -- speak of the devil, L thought-- Ryuuzaki found arms enclosing his collarbones, fingers squeezing bony shoulders, another's humid breath through his cotton shirt.

Light's fingers left red marks, rude and intruding, on his flesh.

L shuddered at the memory, and briefly, he dug his fingertips into Light's back, willing bruises inside that whispered of sleepless, difficult nights.

Slowly, Light withdrew.

Slowly, Ryuuzaki began to breathe.

A lightning suspicion snaked through his mind. What was-- was this a trick by Kira? "Don't think," Light had said.

Ryuuzaki felt cold paranoia shatter his hands. "Nonsense," his elite brain said, "Light didn't seem like he was looking for anything," and his instincts agreed. Then he recalled how Light's knee naturally parted his legs, all of Light leaning into the flexible chair Ryuuzaki was in. L had dropped his legs, bare feet meeting scratchy carpet, and Light's right knee pressing in the soft leather where his toes had been. They were so close to each other, legs clumsy, breaths quick, arms hungry.

L was still unable to think straight.

Light stood off to the side, slumped slightly. He was still waiting, waiting for what, Ryuuzaki wasn't too sure. He gathered his legs up to his chest again. Pierced his toenails into the smooth, wrinkled seat. Ryuuzaki suddenly craved some sweet custard.

"You still think I'm Kira, don't you? Ryuuzaki."

L had been genuinely curious, when Light's mouth opened, to hear what he would say; not that he had heard it, L was genuinely shocked. Ryuuzaki had thought nothing of the sort. He should have been, though. What had he been doing, to let his thoughts wander so? Idiot. His wrist, adorned with a silver handcuff, was sweaty.

L thought of a million ways to answer Light's question, none of them prudent. So he said nothing at all. Light did not move. Distantly, Ryuuzaki wondered what he was thinking. If such abrupt displays of affection were not ropes sent from Kira to tangle his emotions, what were they? L stroked his thumb. Yagami Light was sincere, he was sure of that.

He gazed at his empty hands, craving syrupy and fragrant coffee.

How frozen Yagami-kun looked. Ryuuzaki could see the agony, battling inside his rival-but-friend. A battle between Kira and Light? A fight of emotions and justice? Which fled first? L stirred his imaginary coffee, craving the real stuff, but he dared not move the chain between them. Now is a good time, Ryuuzaki thought to himself, now you can learn more about Yagami Light than you've ever known.

If only he could think of the right things to say. The right question to ask. They weren't coming. He felt skeletal, and his toes were icy.

L needed something sweet. Now.

A clink as Light stirred, sighing.

"I won't," he murmured.

L's head tilted. Shouldn't he be saying, "I'm not", as in, "I'm not Kira"? Where was his defense?

But his own answer was just as ambiguous, and utterly useless. His mind, incompetent for several agonizing minutes after Light-kun's unexpected embrace, was now reprimanding him for not taking advantage of that raw situation. He felt the edge of disappointment tingle his spine. I could have solved this case, right then and there. Yagami Light was standing there, waiting to spill his secrets.

"Yes," L replied, eyes boring into the back of Light's head. Light turned, frowning, waiting for him to explain.

L was confused too.

Was he saying such intimacy would happen again? It might have been a response, "Yes", as though L were expressing satisfaction at Light's answer. Or did he mean that, yes, Ryuuzaki knew Light would do exactly as he said, that Light "wouldn't", whichever that meant. Maybe it meant nothing at all.

Light's eyes were as blank as L's as their gazes met. Neither spoke.

Was that the end of it?

L stood up, tugging the chain twice politely to Light, who stood, and watched Ryuuzaki's empty black eyes. Ryuuzaki smiled, ever so slightly. When the two of them returned, Ryuuzaki held two mugs of caramel-chocolate-vanilla coffee and two large custard pies, offering one of each to his companion.