A/N: OMG! Finally, an update!! I got tired of waiting for two more reviews (I like to repost after getting at least 15 reviews for the last chapter posted) so here it is! I hope you all like it. There are some drama moments in this, but you'll all live. It isn't that bad, I was just trying to make someone seem a little more human. Oh, and this is my longest chapter yet! HUZZAH! D

I'm seriously running low on enthusiasm, so please leave a great, long, review.

DISCLAIMER! For fucks sake, I don't own Death Note or the lyrics used in this chapter which are from the song "Danger, Keep Away" by Slipknot. If I did own Death Note, well, I'd manufacture t-shirts with designs of Raito and L doing things on them.

..OoO..


Vacancy

Chapter Six

These Walls Have A Heart


..OoO..

Life had taken a drastic turn onto a far more desolate, perhaps even more dangerous, path for both Raito and L. Two weeks had passed since Raito's confession, since their first attempt at sex. For the first few days, Raito received nothing but glares from L for the detective was incredibly sore. They had not kissed, had not touched and although Raito hated to admit it, it drove him crazy. When he finally did get to touch the detective again, his senses had felt heightened as they did when he didn't have sex for a while. On that day, L was utterly and completely ravished by Raito and he had the love bites to prove it. The experience was extremely gratifying but that was all it really was.

Gratification.

A desperate struggle for sexual contact.

Two men that lusted for one another, but only in body.

At least, that was what they wanted to believe.

..OoO..


..OoO..

It was another night. L had been typing and clicking away at his computer, Raito close by trying to hold back his yawns and keep his eyes open. It was 3:27am and they were performing fake research on the Kira case. He didn't know how, but L seemed thoroughly occupied with whatever he was looking at on his computer which made Raito curious. Which was odd because Raito never had any excuse to be curious, except for the moment he found the Death Note, but that was completely different. Raito was smart enough to answer his inward questions concerning the world around him and did not have to wonder about anything. He leaned in L's direction, eyes trying to look at the screen.

L minimized the window. Raito's eyes narrowed in agitation as a hunger ate at his insides. He just had to know what the detective was looking at. There was always the choice of asking . . . but it was quickly dismissed. As hard as it was, Raito turned back to his own computer. From the corner of his eye, he saw L bring up the window again as well as a faint smile that spread along his lips. This time, Raito would not be sly. Blatantly, Raito shoved at L's swivel chair, sending the detective across the room and quickly taking his place.

On the screen was a series of pictures with names and numbers. Raito's trained eye could tell they weren't actual photographs but paintings done by a skilled artist. He looked at the top of the page and found no domain name. The first name on the list was Nate River with a picture of an albino boy with the highest number under his name. That was as far as he got before L delivered a powerful kick to Raito's face, causing the teen to fall to the floor and grunt in pain. He was about to return the blow with a punch, but the look on L's face told him not to. Raito lowered the fisted hand he raised as L offered his open one to help him up. He took it.

"I'm sorry, Raito-kun. It was out of impulse that I assaulted you, and I apologize. You were being very rude." L pulled Raito up then bit at his thumb. His bandages were now gone, but scars remained.

"What is it, that list of names?"

"Highly classified, Raito-kun."

One of Raito's eyebrows rose.

"Despite that, I'm sure I can tell you the small details."

L took Raito's chair and pointed at the picture of Nate with the mouse. "This boy, Nate River, is from Germany. His parents died when he was young and when we received his information at Wammy's House, we recruited him. The number under his name is his IQ."

"Wammy's House?"

"A home for highly intelligent orphans; the training grounds for my successor." L sipped at a cup of tea on the desk.

"Should you be telling me this?" Raito asked, folding his arms.

There was a pause before L spoke. "No, I shouldn't, Raito-kun."

But he continued.

"Nate has the highest IQ at Wammy's House, but lacks in something incredibly important. He feels nothing. He is arrogant. He could throw life away," L looked at Raito, "very much like you, but very different at the same time."

Raito's eyes narrowed at his comment. He did not throw life away, he only ridded the world of life unwanted, life of those who did not deserve it. Raito disliked how L compared him to a young boy.

"Following right behind Nate is his exact opposite; Russian Mihael Keehl." The mouse pointed at a slightly older looking blonde boy. "Mihael is also quite the genius but is controlled by his emotions and desires. He is avaricious with his need to take my name and despises Nate. Which is disappointing because they are the halves of a perfect whole. If they simply worked together, as I have been trying to have them do for so long, they would surpass me."

This sent a chill down Raito's spine; the simple possibility of there being someone smarter than L was not a comforting thought. He could kill them with the notebook, but alas, the pictures given were not photos. The slight fear agitated and L continued.

"Occasionally, I visit Wammy's House. My presence provides plenty of encouragement for the children there. I, myself, used to live there as a child, one day dreaming to take on the name of the L before me. I was so obsessed, I had forgotten my first name. For as long as I can remember, I believed it to be L. My true name is lost." L lowered his eyes and bit at his thumb again. "In the end, I wonder if it was all really worth it."

"L . . ."

Raito couldn't believe what he was hearing, or why the detective was telling him all of this. The trust that L was placing in him by revealing this information to him was . . . intoxicating to say the least. Gaining a person's trust was similar to having control. L was giving him it to him, giving Raito power. Raito liked it. He loved it. He gently motioned for L to rise from his chair and when he did Raito embraced him. There was no response, Raito didn't expect one. The detective simply stood still, swaying ever so slightly back and forth to maintain balance, something only Raito would've noticed. The fingers on one hand kneaded at L's back, the other tangling itself in the black mess of hair and Raito felt L's chin rest on his shoulder. This was what he enjoyed so much, craved so desperately to possess. A large, satisfied and nearly demonic grin ran along his lips; his power-hungry core being satiated. He could feel the smallest series of shivers that emanated from L's body, but failed to determine what exactly caused them. Yet, of course, that didn't really matter.

Unbeknown to Raito, L was struggling with a few inner demons he had accumulated over the years. Being a man of justice holding strong beliefs in the system had internally scarred him. Causing him to become socially inept, so inexperienced compared to the other men at his age. Twenty-four full and long years, many of them pursuing a man whom he had never truly known, whom he had to replace at the age of sixteen. Whom was everything L had always wanted to be, but failed to truly become. It was a pain he no longer felt, but anonymously echoed within himself. He had grown out of that pathetic thing he once was into something stronger. Something more . . . bearable. But, here in Raito's arms, he just felt so ready to break.

". . . Mother."

"Hm?" Raito was surprised by the softly spoken word.

"From before Wammy's house, she is the only thing I remember. Only a face." L spoke in the same, almost monotone voice he always did.

"Do you regret becoming L?"

"No, Raito-kun, not at all."

"I've never seen you like this before."

L's eyes narrowed as he heard humor in Raito's voice. "And what would that be?"

"You're . . . almost human."

"That sure is something coming from you, Kira-kun."

The arms around L withdrew immediately, dissatisfied with the Kira reference. Raito looked back to the screen, eyes drawn for an unknown reason to Nate. The boy resembled L incredibly so; the high intelligence, the small close to none amount of social skill, the piercing black eyes that Raito thought could only belong to L, and the impossible to read face. This boy, fourteen years old as given in the small bio, was a threat. A could-be deadly one, and as he thought this it felt as if the painting of Nate was watching him, listening in on Raito's mind. He hated it. Nate had to die. As soon as possible.

As if reading Raito's thoughts, L spoke. "You will regret killing anyone at Wammy's House, Kira-kun," and with that L turned the computer off. "That's enough for today. Let us rest, we will have a long day tomorrow pretending to perform false research on the Kira case."

Raito heard Ryuk make the disconcerting sound which was supposed to be a giggle. I actually forgot he was here . . . "Yeah, that sounds good."

"But, I warn you, Kira-kun," L looked at Raito with his thumb at his lips, the true and strong face of L, the greatest detective. "If you slip up, if you leave any evidence that the others realize, if you make yourself obvious . . ." the teen forced himself to keep eye contact as L continued, "I will have you arrested and locked away in prison for the rest of your life. Do not underestimate me."

When they pulled the covers up over their shoulders in the king size bed, Raito's eyes seemed to glow red in the darkness, the importance of L's death haunting his waking mind until sleep stole him.

..OoO..


..OoO..

Nothing ever sounded more sweet; the slow and nearly deafening sound of a person choking. Gagging. Raito's eyes were wide as he looked down at the Death Note, thrown to the floor but open to a page. His hands fisted in his own hair and began to pull, the insanity of what he had just done ripping his mind apart, shredding it to small, irrelevant pieces. He didn't know what exactly had made him write it, or why, but it felt like there was a black hole in his chest, eating his insides. There was only one thing he knew, only one thing that his brain understood. It was loud and unbearable, it's presence pounding in his chest and ringing in his ears.

Pain, the proof that he was still there, within the tragedy that brought him so much grief but had assured utmost victory. The fruit of all of his plans and countless nights with no sleep finally ripened; a sweet apple finally achieving the perfect shade of red, the only color in this black and white dementia. It was before him now, more obvious than ever, and sat nearly weightless on his lap. But, still, Raito could not see it, could not register the glory that was now his. His eyes only saw the Death Note and the large, looming shadow that now fell upon it.

"Hyuk, you finally did it."

A black hand reached out and grabbed the apple. Raito could hear the sound of it of being thrown from one hand to another. The choking from before finally stopped, a death by far overly exaggerated.

"Look, Raito, it looks like there's a bite missing. That sucks, the first bite is always the best. Hyuk, but it appears that the one who took it couldn't swallow it down. What a waste, hyuk."

The apple, held only by the stem, now hung in front of Raito's face. A light from an unknown source shown on it, gleaming and forcing Raito to give it attention. He looked at it but felt nothing, hands still fisted in his hair. Beyond the apple a pale hand laid on the grey floor, it's owner hidden in a shadow that had no lines to draw from. The fingers were long and thin and Raito recognized it, the horror of what he had done stronger than ever now. In a maniacal cry, he called out to the form. He demanded it, begged it to move. As he did, Raito felt more worse than ever. Never had he felt so weak, so incredibly powerless with that apple swaying in front of his face.

"Don't you want some?"

Raito said nothing.

"Fine, hyuk, all for me."

Written in the Death Note for the world to see was L Lawliet, and the shadow in the corner drew back to reveal his face, white eyes half open and a small trail of blood leaking out of his mouth.

All Raito heard were the crunches of the apple being eaten.

..OoO..


..OoO..

That morning there was an ache in Raito's stomach. Ryuk was laughing at him at the foot of the bed, a continuous stream of 'hyuk hyuk hyuk hyuk'. Next to Raito, L still slept. The sun had just begun to rise.

"What's so funny, Ryuk?" he couldn't help but quietly ask, remaining perfect still in the bed.

"Oh, nothing. You'll soon find out anyway."

It sure didn't feel like it was nothing and Raito, for the first time in a long time, felt his stomach sink. He had heard Ryuk say it before, back when he killed Misa Amane, and knew that it wasn't 'nothing'. With all his might, Raito tried to fall back asleep, but failed.

..OoO..


..OoO..

"Hey, L, we should go to Wammy's House," Raito suggested, sipping some coffee.

L, who was eating strawberry pocky, bit at the stick cracker and looked at Raito with wide eyes. They were alone, watching security cameras with footage of Kira victims dying among many screens, supposedly trying to locate a clue. Not only was Raito's suggestion completely random, but was entirely out of the question. A trip to Wammy's House . . . Raito must've been out of his mind. Of all things to say, this was ridiculous.

"Raito-kun, you are, as the teenagers say, mental."

"Why not? I don't understand why you're reacting so . . . over the top." A smile was sent L's way, and in response L's eyes narrowed.

"It's very simple. Exposing you to my possible replacements can't be good for me in any way." He finished the stick of pocky then pulled out another one from a small box. "There's no telling in how they would react, and Watari would never agree. Or Roger for that matter. And before you ask, yes, Watari is connected to Wammy's House."

He kept his voice down, the rest of the task force was just beyond a closed door. L didn't want to take Raito to his old home, it just would have been too suspicious. Especially since it was Kira he would be taking. The children at the orphanage were geniuses and chances of them catching on to Raito weren't at an impossible percent. Surely Watari had been sending them, or at least Nate and Mihael, information on the Kira case. He didn't want them to discover who Raito really was. Eating another stick of pocky, L's silence declared the conversation, as short as it was, to be over. L watched people die, watched as they would clutch their chests before their faces froze in terror and ceased to live.

It just didn't seem possible how someone could kill so blatantly, so unafraid of the consequences and watch the fruit of his work blossom before his eyes. Raito was a mystery to L, one that he tried to understand but knew nearly nothing about. How did Kira do it, kill so many in one day? It stumped him, and he just had to know. He would do nearly anything to know, and with this thought in mind he looked to Raito who had taken a bite of his croissant, watching the flashing screens. This man next to him thought of himself to be a god and enjoyed the idea of others worshiping him. L wandered if he were any different, another pawn Kira was trying to convert to follow him and his massacre. His "holy judgement onto the world" were just the pretty words used to hide what Kira was really doing.

Sickened to his stomach by the idea someone could be so cold hearted, L put down his box of pocky and averted his eyes from the collage of screens. If what Raito was doing was so terrible, so worthy of punishment in his eyes, then why hadn't he arrested the teen yet? There was always that small lacking in the evidence department, but L was smart. He could figure out some way to force Raito in the Kira corner. Then again, L felt like he owed Raito something. Raito had spared him, he could have taken the risk of being exposed and murdered L. Which yet again came the question; how does Kira kill? Would Raito tell him if he asked? His black eyes went to the other's face, as if trying to find an answer within the tan skin and cheek bones.

"Raito-kun, if you don't mind me asking . . ."

Said boy looked to L, finished chewing the bite of croissant in his mouth and swallowing before speaking. "What's up?"

"How do you kill?" L whispered, his voice so quiet he almost couldn't hear himself say it. His body began to shake from anticipation, and it felt as if an eternity flew by before Raito answered.

A smirk played at Raito's lips that made L feel uncomfortable. "I'll tell you at Wammy's house."

"It's the middle of July. I'd rather not go." He should've known that there would have been a catch.

"It can't be worse than here. Japan gets so humid in the summer. Where is it, anyway?"

L rolled his eyes. "Great Britain. We have no reason to go and therefore I will not allow it."

He turned his attention back to the screens, just in time to miss Raito's smirk become larger.

..OoO..


..OoO..

"46 deaths in the UK!" Matsuda exclaimed, dropping a small stack of papers onto the table. "Do you think Kira is on the run?"

Soichiro Yagami added "It would appear so. Perhaps we should . . ."

"We have already distinguished that Kira only needs a face and name to kill, correct?" L interrupted, sending a glare to Raito who was feigning shock. He didn't wait for a response from the team. "Then it is safe to assume that Kira is simply watching English news. He is probably preparing to take this string of murders to a worldwide scale, and chances are Kira is trying to fool us to follow the murders." L looked to Raito then, catching the slight anger in his face. "I will not fall for his tricks."

"Should we really leave things up to the English police, though?" Aizawa asked, frustrated. "We might find a lead, if anything."

"Are you saying we should interfere?" L challenged. He took a bite of carrot cake.

"I'm not saying we should just sit on our asses!" yelled Aizawa.

L narrowed his eyes. He could only imagine the satisfied smirk Raito was trying his hardest to hide. Raito had successfully turned the team against him, just as Kira had turned L against them before. With the fork just barely between his lips, waving up and down, L assessed his options. They could always go to Britain, just for the hell of it, but if he did go Raito would . . . persuade him to go to Wammy's House. If they didn't go to Britain, Raito would kill more and more people there and lesser in Japan. The team would grow irritated and would be of no help to him for catching Kira, although he already knew who Kira was. Going to Britain now, during the terrible heat of summer of Japan, would be relaxing.

The more he thought about it, the more leaving to the UK seemed to be a good decision. But, there was that one little detail that did not suffice him in making the choice. L would have to go to Wammy's House, visit the children that practically worshiped him and look at their sad-happy faces as they dreamed about becoming the next L. He would have to listen to Roger complain about the idiocy of bringing someone from the outside world into Wammy's House. There was also Watari, Quilish Wammy, that he would have to answer to. L was a lazy man and he didn't want to deal with any complaining directed at him. There was only one real reason that L somewhat wanted to go to Britain.

Raito would tell him how he killed.

His fingers shook thinking about it. L loved knowledge and the ever alluring call of Kira's method of killing was quite the seducer. He would do anything to know . . .

"If you are all so bent on going, then I guess we will leave tomorrow. Pack your things and be in this room at 5am. We will catch the earliest flight." L looked to Watari. "I trust you will make all necessary reservations and such for our trip?"

"Yes . . . Master Ryuzaki," Watari spoke, the slightest surprise in his voice.

The task force slowly exited the room, Matsuda the last to leave before Raito and L. Silence enveloped both of them and being the unsocial butterfly he was, L found no need to end it. He took the chocolate cake on the table and left to his suite, hearing Raito follow him. There was no reason to guess of what was going to happen; Raito was going to thank him. L held back his sigh and left the door to his suite open for Raito to close. As expected, L heard the door click and once he put the cake down on the night stand, he felt arms wrap around him. Lips attached themselves to L's nape, sucking lightly but failed to draw a large reaction. L became used to the ministrations, and although they were pleasurable, they didn't have the same effect they used to.

Hands groped at L's sweater and what was hidden underneath. L's own hands rose to cover them, yet his heart wasn't just into it as it used to be. He let his eyes close as Raito's touches continued. L felt the others lips form words against his neck and knew them to be half-hearted words of praise. His breathing hastened slightly and his attempts at calming it failed. Something inside of him ached for more, desired for what he had felt on that day. The memory slowly formed in his mind. He remembered his uncertainty and fear, the electricity that collected in his spine, and, especially, the insanity of it all. Raito had acted so suddenly that time. What had provoked such an action L failed to recall, but looking back he was okay with it.

Or so he thought when his usually over analytical mind was put to rest by Raito's touches. If he had the chance to completely and utterly think things through . . . well, perhaps it was a good thing he had yet done it. His brain was already full of why L had continued to let Kira run free. The guilt was slowly but surely eating away at him and his pride had taken a heavy blow.

Easier said, L was a changed man. He had allowed emotions and physical contact alter his thinking pattern, and almost his sense of justice. L didn't know why he let this boy, this murderer have his way with him. He gasped as Raito touched his bare sex, the other's hand having snuck into his pants. It squeezed and made L unwillingly thrust into it. Raito was kissing and biting at his neck, the hand in his shirt rising up through the neck of his sweater to finger at L's lips. His eyes that were once aimed at the floor rose and L met his image in a mirror. It was atop the dresser, showing in perfect from the front Raito and L. The mirror was long enough to catch L's image from inches beneath the fondling hand in his pants and even more inches above the tallest hair on his head.

In that mirror L could see that Raito was watching, eyes narrowed in an intimidating fashion and the lust evident in them. Those eyes found L's and Raito smirked at him as he began to pump the sex in his hand, causing L to gasp. L tilted his head back in pleasure, one of his hands finding support in standing by reaching back and grabbing Raito's shoulder. This only further inflated Raito's arrogance and confidence.

"Lawliet," he whispered hotly into L's ear while running his fingers along the other's lips. "This is mine, you belong to Kira."

"Kira-kun . . ."

Raito increased the pace of his pumping hand and tightened his grasp, pleased when L thrust his hips in time. He sucked at the juncture of L's neck and shoulder, determined to leave a mark. Yes, L was starting to feel as if he didn't belong to himself anymore.

That place in my mind, is that space that you call mine?

With one hand, Raito shoved L's baggy jeans to the floor. L felt Raito grind against him from behind, felt the teen's hard sex pressing against him. The only things between them were L's boxers and Raito's pants . . . well, only two pairs of boxers as a hand pulled away from L's lips and the detective heard a zip. Both hands were gone and L sighed, but suddenly he was turned and slammed against the nearest wall, the air knocked out of him. Chest to chest, they kissed, Raito dominating L's mouth with his tongue. Their open eyes were locked, Raito's more narrow, demanding submission and L's own lidded ones delighted to comply. Inside, L began to worry.

For the first time in a long time, L was able to stress when being touched as he was.

Where have I been all this time? Lost and slain, fatal decline? I've been waiting for this to unfold . . . the pieces are only as good as the whole.

"Give everything you are to me." Raito let their lips touch as he talked. "Your body, your face, your eyes, your soul . . . Your name."

"Kira, you have it," he rose a hand, long fingers licking Raito's cheek, then dropping slightly and curling. "You have it." His eyes fell to the floor, but not for long as the other boy grabbed his chin and forced them back.

"Say it again, L Lawliet!"

Sever myself from my own life . . . I cut out the only thing that was right.

"You have me, Kira." L's reply was an octave above a whisper.

Lips then met with bruising passion. They grinded against one another as they became more and more desperate for release. L's skin felt as if it were on fire and it felt incredibly good. Yet, there was something wrong. When they first started their relationship (if he could even call it that), these wonderful touches were mind-numbing; they gave a sense of freedom. But it was fading, and as he looked into Raito's eyes he had to close his own.

Raito was Kira. Did he even really care about L? Was it all just a front? L threw away justice for the teenager before him, he had given in to Kira. He was feeling very much like a philistine pawn. The feeling was horrific, and L couldn't help but find himself wanting to escape. When he opened his eyes again, still locked in a kiss, they met Raito's own closed ones.

What if I never saw you again?

After what felt like an eternity, their lips parted, Raito lowering his to leave a mark on L's neck.

"Kira, just get on with it," L forced himself to say in that constantly neutral tone of his.

His hands fisted at his sides as Raito continued with his ministrations. Boxers fell to the floor and within a few minutes, a howl of pain sounded throughout the suite.

For the second time, L and Raito attempted sex. L's scarred fingertips dug into Raito's shoulder blades and his back was pressing painfully against the wall behind him. The wall and Raito's strong arms were the only things holding him there and he could feel the other's hands on the underside of his thighs. Like the first time, it had hurt incredibly, but L bore through it the best he could. He bit his lip to hold back his groans and let his forehead rest against Raito's. It was such a full feeling, L wasn't entirely sure how to describe it.

And this was it, perhaps the very first of very many mistakes the two of them would make. If only they had known, if only they could see the tragedy they were blindly writing.

If L knew of Ryuk and could hear his laughter, the laughter Raito was ignoring, maybe he could have known.

"I love you, Kira."

I'd die right next to you in the end . . .

That place in my mind . . . is that space that you call mine?

..OoO..


A/N: Alright, buddies, that's the end of chapter six. I'm incredibly sorry for the lame, half-ass lemon ending. I had to force myself to write it because I had no will to. My inspiration for this story is borderline dead and I thought to myself "Well, fuck, if I'm going to drop this, I might as well finish this chapter" so I pulled this piece of shit ending out of my ass. NO, THE STORY ISN'T REALLY OVER. They still have to go to Britain and all that junk, but I'm just saying I might not ever get to that part.

SO PLEASE REVIEW!! IF YOU WANT TO SEE ANYMORE OF THIS STORY, PLEASE REVIEW!! IF I DON'T GET ANY REVIEWS, I GUARANTEE THAT I WON'T BE ABLE TO WRITE ANYMORE. And I'm not just saying that to get reviews!