A/N: Uh… guys? Look, this is rated T, so there's no lemon but I kinda got carried away… Uh… so, here's your warning, if, like… you don't like… foreplay? Foreplay. Good description.

-

Azure Paler than the Sky.

twenty.

The snow globe that was Irai Academy fell seamlessly into the month of December. The much-anticipated snow continued to fall and shrouded the roofs of the buildings in it. The fields were covered and the courtyards and sidewalks were so slippery that even the most agile girls from the dance department fell to their rears and were jeered at. Snowmen began to pop up all over campus, some innocent, others obscene. Dean Wammy sent the groundskeepers to beware such lewd snowmen and to abolish them on sight.

This announcement wasn't made, however, until Wammy called for the winter teacher's meeting. There was one every season so that the teachers could catch up on things that needed to be done or deal with menial problems. While most teachers carried on this duty without gripe, L found it to be tedious and not at all helpful when it came to understanding the students' needs.

But the painting professor attended like always, walking into Dean Wammy's office as the last teacher to arrive. He shut the door behind him and looked up from under his dark bangs at the circle of his colleagues, waiting for him to sit so that they may begin.

"Sorry for my tardiness," he said as he sat next to Dean Wammy.

"That's quite all right, L," Wammy said, nodding to him. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and surveyed his employees. "Well, everyone, I hope you're all doing well. Midterms are in a few weeks and then we have winter break."

Everyone made small noises of relief that the first term was almost over.

"I, for one," continued Wammy, "will be attending Professor Lawliet's gallery showing on New Year's Eve. I hope to see some of you, if not all of you, there." Wammy gave everyone a well-placed glance over the rim of his glasses and L frowned, slightly embarrassed at Wammy's paternal avocation of him.

"Ah, yes," Mikami yawned, looking over at L with an eyebrow raised, "how is it going anyway, Lawliet? With your two assistants, I mean."

"Swimmingly," L answered, sending him a mild glare.

"I would expect that answer…"

"What does that mean?"

Miss Takada, on Mikami's other side, looked over the sculptor towards the painter. "There have been rumors floating around in the last week that you have a… unprofessional relationship going with both Mr. Kheel and Mr. River."

The other teachers began to look a bit uncomfortable and averted their eyes. Wammy cleared his throat and looked the other way.

"I don't know why my relationships with my students would be any of your business."

"The whole school's talking about it," Takada groaned, rolling her eyes.

"I don't see any problem with it," said Misa from Wammy's other side. She pouted at the darker haired teacher across the room. "Why don't you mind your own business?"

"She's right," L said, looking at Mikami, "you have no room to talk from the shameless way you've hounded Raito Yagami."

Mikami huffed, "Raito Yagami and I are in a teacher-student relationship."

"Now that your wicked plan has failed and your anticipations of sick, twisted sex games have been demolished, yes, you are in a teacher-student relationship," L said placidly.

Mikami and Takada gasped jointly.

"Are you going to let him speak that way, Mr. Wammy?" Takada asked, ignoring his blonde secretary as she howled with laughter.

Wammy shook his head. "Please, stop this, you four. Keep your relationships under wraps, this is a school after all. L, I want to speak with you alone after the meeting."

Mikami smirked and L said nothing.

The meeting went on as usual and light conversation was held between the topics at hand. This was when it was decided that no more indecent snowmen would be tolerated.

"It's really disturbing," said a female culinary teacher. "I was walking over here and saw two of them laying in a… horizontal position on the ground. It was highly graphic."

"It's the sculpture students," said another.

"Don't put that on me," Mikami grumbled.

L had seemed to not be paying much attention to what was going on, his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling. Sighing, he said, "Everyone here should be happy that the students are finding art in everything they do. Do not be such downers."

Wammy shook his head. "No, no… they're right, L. School is not the place for that. I'll tell the groundskeepers to tear down the questionable ones."

After a while, the meeting was over and all of the teachers, save for L, left with their goodbyes to Dean Wammy. Mikami and Takada were two of the last out of the door and they sent mild glares L's way, which he took in stride. The door closed softly behind them and L was left alone with Wammy in the office. He turned towards the older man attentively.

"Well, that was certainly an eventful conversation," said Wammy, pushing his glass up on his nose with a finger.

L frowned. "I do not desire a lecture."

"I don't aim to give you one." He cleared his throat. "I am going to give you the same proposition I gave Raito last year. If you want to, I will take you as a Senior student so that you will be in the same year as Near and Mello."

L blinked at him for a moment and then shook his head.

"Oh, L, don't be childish."

"I don't want to be a student."

"You wouldn't have to be had you kept your relationship to yourself. The whole school knows about it now… it's very improper. You can't traipse around campus in a threesome with two of your students."

"Why not?"

"L."

"I won't give up my position," he said, wishing he had some sort of candy.

"You don't even like teaching children."

L averted his eyes. "I won't give up my position," he repeated and thought of Raito and how he seemed so miserable without his blessed title of Professor Yagami. "I'm done with college days, that was enough to last a lifetime. If anyone has a problem with the relationship I'm in, they can take it up with Mello. I honestly don't care."

Wammy paused for a moment and then sat back in his large leather chair, sighing. He rubbed at his temples wearily for a bit while L sat there, hugging his knees and looking very much like he would when he was a teenager - sitting in Wammy's office next to Raito for one offence or another. He could just hear Raito, in the back of his mind, attempting to silence L's bargaining for their punishment after filling the water fountain with purple food-coloring for "art's sake."

Wammy nearly laughed then and took his hands away from his forehead. "All right, L," he said, leaning forward, "you do what you want but, please, be a bit more discreet. I've scolded Mikami for his chasing after Raito and after not punishing you, I seem as if I'm bias."

"You are."

"I know."

"Well," L sighed, standing, "I shall be taking my leave to go and molest one or more of my students."

"L."

"I only kid."

"No, you don't."

"I know," he said and flashed a smile.

-

"Just two more weeks. You're doing really well, you know," Raito said as he sent a small smile towards Matsuda. The younger man sat at his side, his seat pushed up far into the table where his stomach was touching the edge. They were in the cafeteria and the room around them buzzed with chatter of about thirty or so students but both Raito and Matsuda had grown tired of studying in their dorms. The lighting was good and they sat with their textbooks in front of them.

Matsuda smiled, twirling his pen around in his right hand. "I wouldn't be understanding so much if it wasn't you tutoring me. Mikami makes everything seem so twisty and I just don't get it."

Raito considered this and then thought back to those times in class when half of the classroom wore looks of utter confusion. Like Matsuda, the majority of them neglected to ask for him, either afraid of Mikami's death-glare or of looking like Matsuda. Raito had never noticed it much, always too absorbed in the subtle curve of Mikami's backside but now that he thought about it, Mikami had been a bit unclear.

"He's just started teaching," Raito said finally, "I'm sure he'll improve over time."

Matsuda sighed, scrunching his face. "Still, I wish you were my teacher…"

Raito laughed a bit and turned the page in the textbook. "You might get your wish," he hummed.

Matsuda looked up, blinking.

"No offense to students everywhere," Raito sighed, "but I really dislike being a student. Whenever I go into the teacher's lounge, everyone but L gives me strange looks. I have to use the student bathrooms which are atrocious and there are still things written about me on the walls from when I was a student… I don't need to study since I can actually teach everything so I'm bored out of my mind most times. And I don't get to attend the teacher's meetings any longer!" Raito was on the physical verge of pouting, having worked himself up into a huff through his speech.

"S-So you want to teach again?"

"… Yes. I do. And I'm starting in the Spring semester."

"Oh, Raito," Matsuda yelped happily and grasped the brunet's sides, pulling him into a hug. Raito sighed, rolling his eyes even as he put his own arms around Matsuda's waist, hugging him back. Matsuda leant his head slightly on Raito's shoulder, looking up at him. "That's great, then maybe next term, I won't fail!"

"You won't fail this term, Matsu." Raito pulled away from the hug and sat back, nodding to himself. "I'll pound this into you until you're dizzy with it."

Matsuda turned away, blushing.

"Hmm?" Raito blinked and pointed towards the text books frantically. "I-I meant-"

"Ah, hello, princess."

Both of them looked up, drawn out of their mutual embarrassment and were staring straight at Mikami, who had snuck over to their table unbeknown to them. The florescent lighting was giving off a bright glare on his glasses. He planted a heavy hand on the table and said to Raito, "I had wondered where you'd gone but it seems I was able to find you."

Raito huffed, raising an eyebrow. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

"I'm sorry, delicious," he said, sitting down and ignoring Raito's indignant expression. "What are you doing here?"

"… I'm helping Matsu," he said, sparing his companion a glance. "And we really should get back to it."

"Ah, Raito. Beauty, brains and a charitable heart. It's why I'm so enamored by you," he whispered, taking Raito's hand and leaning in close to him, licking at the shell of Raito's ear.

Raito gasped and pulled his hand back as Matsuda blushed brightly, looking away. "Mikami, what has gotten into you?" Raito shouted.

"We haven't talked in so long," said the man and he squeezed Raito's thigh under the table, earning a suppressed moan from the brunet. "Come back to my room with me," he insisted. "Save your sweet benevolence to the impeded for another day."

Raito withdrew from the man's touches, an enraged expression on his face. "How could you say that!"

Matsuda blinked. "What? What'd he say?"

"Matsuda is not impeded," he continued.

"What's impeded mean?"

Raito groaned loudly.

Mikami laughed and shrugged lightly. "See? He doesn't mind. Come here, sweetness, I really don't want to wait any longer," he said, taking Raito by the hand and pulling him out of his seat. He was practically dragging Raito along with him but didn't get five steps before Raito wrenched his wrist away from Mikami's grasp and stood in front of the table, amber eyes blazing.

"Hey! You can't just come in here like a ball of testosterone and drag me out to have sex with you," he said, none-too-discreetly, and a few people at surrounding tables turned to look at them. "No matter what those bathroom walls say, I am not a slut and I won't be treated like one. Even if you think he's dumb, Matsuda's really kind and he tries really hard. And, personally, I would rather go to Matsuda's room with him for the night than go to you." Raito smirked and, to punctuate his sentence, he brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked the tips, then dragged them down his chest slowly. He winked at the horror-stricken Mikami. "I think Matsu has a lot of potential…"

Mikami's mouth hung open a bit and he stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, when it was clear that Raito's mind was made up, Mikami turned on his heel and left the cafeteria through the east exit. Raito sighed at his leaving and dropped his shoulders. When he turned back around, the entire population of the cafeteria was turned towards him, all eyes wide open.

Raito groaned at having made a spectacle of himself and before he could make to sit down, someone out of the crowd began a slow-clap.

"Oh, cut it out," Raito shouted, huffing and sitting back down. He noticed then, out of the corner of his eye, Matsuda's expression of shock and bewilderment. Raito ignored it and said, "Matsu, please turn to page 367. We've still got a lot to cover."

"… Right," he mumbled and flipped the pages in the book. After a moment or two of silence, Matsuda raised his eyes up to Raito. He said quietly, "Uh, Raito…?"

"Yes?" he asked curtly, nose buried in his textbook.

"… Did you… mean what you said to the professor?"

"What?"

"About… that you'd rather spend the night with me… did you mean that?"

There was a pause and, slowly, Raito placed the book back on the table, revealing a light blush across his cheeks. "Yes," he said softly, keeping his gaze focused on the text before him.

Matsuda blinked and his blush intensified. "Oh. Okay." He looked back towards his book and, in a moment, he let his hand slip from its place on the tabletop to Raito's under the table and grasped it lightly, still afraid of being rejected.

His whole body relaxed when he felt Raito squeeze back.

-

"It's Matt with the Irai noon-hour radio show! I'm back with a brand new guest and my favorite playmate, Near! He's got his rabbit here and is looking as cute as ever."

"Oh, Matt…"

"A little info about my buddy before we start. He's about as cute as an albino raccoon and he likes to cuddle. He's a genius painter with straight A's and is currently in a steamy threesome with his pervy teacher, Lawliet, and his longtime-sweetheart, Captain Kheel. Well, Near, what - AW. He's blushing!"

"I-I am not! Can be just begin?"

"Sure; wanna read the first postcard?"

"Okay… it reads: Dear Matt, I heard about little Near's decision to be with those other guys. Tell him if he ever needs another player, I'm up for grabs! Signed, Big Dick… Oh my goodness…"

"Uh… Near? You okay?"

"…"

"Aw, come it, it's okay! We won't let him get you, okay? Look, I'll make a shout out. Yo, Big Dick! Keep your dick away from Near! … See, don't you feel better?"

"Not really…"

"You'll be okay. Here, I'll read the next one. Says: Dear Matt, Near is so cute with all of those toys. Does he have any sex toys? Signed, Oogie Boogie Man. … Well, this certainly is a special batch of postcards. What say you, Near?"

"I most certainly do not have any… I… what are you looking at me like that for?"

"Don't lie to the masses, Near."

"I-I…!"

"Let's do another."

"I don't think-"

"Dear Matt, you should be ashamed of yourself. There you sit, either in your studio or lugging that hungry hippo, Lisa, around campus while Mello and the professor make off with Near, rubbing their hot bodies all over him and filling him with the pent-up tension of young college men! You and Near should be together! Signed, Secret Agent Man."

"…"

"Wow… well, Near… wanna please the fans?"

"You sent that in yourself!"

"… heh."

-

A week later, the sessions in L's studio were back up to speed. Ever since Near had been back on the project, they had been working like madmen to catch up with all that time lost. Still, at first, the three of them were so taken by their new relationships - all the unspoken boundaries that could now be freely broken - that they didn't get too much done. L, being the adult in the situation, would always have to restrain himself ceasing his work in favor of jumping Near and Mello was never any help, always standing so slow when L was working. He would sometimes wrap his arms around the man's neck and dip his head down to whisper something horribly dirty into his ear and it would drive L to the edges of his sanity.

Sometimes, he almost jerked the paintbrush because of Mello's taunting and that was not something L took lightly. He would then complain to Mello and Mello would whine and it would turn into a bit of a fight for dominance, ending up in ripped shirts and heavy breathing and sweat clinging to their hair.

And the heater was doing wonders for Near who no longer shivered from the cold but from watching Mello underneath L when he decided, fuck it, I'll beat him next time and it was funny because, for Mello, next time never came. The blond would turn his head as he lay on the dirty floor and lick his lips at Near, whose legs quivered and slipped out of position from time to time.

Other times, at the beginning of sessions, L wouldn't allow Near to take off his own clothes, instead opting to do it himself or to employ Mello to do so. The two of them would undress Near slowly and tease him, running their long fingers up and down his body. He cried out once, needy, as L ghosted his fingertips and lips on the boy's inner thighs and Mello suckled harshly on Near's index finger, his soft tongue wrapping around the digit.

Near loved it when L would sometimes be so bold as to get down on his knees and hoist Near's thighs upon his shoulders, burying his face between the boy's legs. Near inhaled sharply and tensed his muscles when Mello came from behind him and grabbed his wrists, slapping on handcuffs for God's sake, and where the bloody hell did those come from? Mello grinned at Near's flustered state, his mind tied up and twisted in L's tongue and Mello's hand sliding down his stomach, his fingers rubbing and teasing the protruding skin there. Before Near could make those sweet little cries of his, Mello captured his lips to stifle him and worked his tongue around the sensitive edges of Near's gums.

By the time Near's toes curled, no one really felt like painting anymore.

This ended up a problem and after a few more nights of this - afterward, L would think to himself, Maybe next time, we'll get some work done, but for L, next time never came - the sight of the calendar caught their attention. Near most of all, who felt guilty for abandoning the project, and told them that fun and games were to be had outside of the work area.

Unfortunately for Mello and L, they agreed and were forced to control themselves. From then on, they worked like men possessed. Between classes, on weekends, anytime they had a spare moment. L was at the point where he no longer needed the moon - the lighting was forever in his mind.

On the nineteenth, it was finally finished. When Near climbed down from the chair for the last time, he neglected to grab his robe and walked completely naked over to the canvas where L and Mello stood. He peeked around the side, already told by L that he would be able to see upon completion, and smiled at himself as he sat on the chair in that other world.

Mello, who had been studying the painting before, was then looking at the real Near standing in front of him. He was smiling and hugging L and telling him how amazing it was, all while being unclothed. It was probably something that anyone else would scoff at - So? He'd been naked for weeks, posing, they might say. But it all in the way he carried himself. He had walked around the room as if he'd been bundled up in his pajamas that he used to wear no matter what time of day.

He's come a long way, Mello thought, studying him and caught a small smile that L had flashed him. He smirked back and leant forward, placing a kiss on the back of Near's head.

Near turned around, blinking. His face was flushed from excitement. "What do you think of it, Mello?" he asked.

After a pause, his smirk widened. "I love it. I'm surprised L was able to pull it off. I'd thought he'd gotten incapable in his old age."

"Haha," L yawned.

Mello grinned.

"You know, you still have a few assignments to make up, Mello. They're due tomorrow."

"… What?" Mello groaned in disbelief. "You're not gonna make me do 'em, are you?"

"And why not?"

"That's not fair-"

"I wouldn't argue, I could make them due in ten minutes."

"…"

Near laughed under his breath. He was starting to believe it was okay.

Later that afternoon, as the sun was setting and just barely visible in the west, the three of them were walking through one of the outside hallways. The snow had stopped falling earlier that morning but it left a thick blanket coating all the campus, which Near watched as they walked past.

"Damn," Mello whined, hugging his arms closer, "why's it got to be so fucking cold, anyway?"

"It's called winter."

"Shut up, L! How can you not be cold, you don't even wear a jacket!"

"My hair keeps me warm."

"… huh?" Mello took a second to look away from L and found Near a few yards back, staring out into the snow. Mello called at him, causing L to pause in his steps as well, "Hey, Near! What're you looking at?"

"I… I think that snowman is moving," Near mumbled, tilting his head to the side.

Mello blinked. He walked over, followed by L, and they stood on either side of Near, looking out into the fields. There was a snowman there, in the middle of the field, facing the three of them. It had two sticks for arms and, much to Mello's alarm, one of them waved at him.

Mello gasped, startled, and pointed at the offensive craft of snow like a hound dog. "It just moved! B-By itself!"

L nodded. "Good boy."

"Hey!"

Suddenly, to the side of the snowman's head, a human head popped out from behind and Near would recognize those emerald eyes anywhere.

"Matt?"

"Yo," he called, waving the snowman's arm again. "Haha, hey Mel, you looked about ready to piss yourself!"

"What? W-Why you…" Mello growled and bent down, grasping a handful of snow and packing it tightly in his fists. He pulled back and then snapped his wrist forward, hurling the snowball towards the snowman's head. It hit and Matt ducked, reemerging above the headless snowman. He sighed and stood up, hands in the air.

"Aw, you murderer! He was special," Matt said, seemingly mourning. However, as Mello laughed at him, Matt reached back into his scarf and pulled out a large snowball, hurtling it at the blond. Mello was hit the chest and some got into his shirt, freezing him to the bone.

"Jesus, Matt! All right, that's it!" he shouted, running out into the snow. L and Near looked at each other and mentally shrugged, stepping off of the sidewalk. When they got closer, they watched mildly as Matt and Mello rolled around on the ground, trying to pummel each other with the white stuff.

Suddenly, a rogue snowball came in from the north and hit Mello on the back of the head. The blond yipped and looked around, paranoid.

"Who threw that?" he shouted.

There was a small titter of laughter and all four of them looked up to find that on a bench a few yards away sat Raito and Matsuda, surrounded by books. Raito was grinning, tossing a snowball in his right hand.

Mello gasped, "Raito!"

Matt laughed and kicked Mello off of him. He rolled over and grabbed a handful of snow, packing it in one motion, and threw it. Mello tackled him just before he was able to let go, however, and the snowball flew crookedly. L caught it in his hand before it hit Near in the face and tossed it to the side, smacking one of Raito's notebooks off of the bench.

"Hey, Lawliet, don't do that!" Raito cried, picking up the book and sitting it on Matsuda's lap. He stood up and grabbed two handfuls of snow, grinning at his colleague.

L grinned back. "Bring it," he said, a ball of snow already waiting in his hand.

By that time, Near had been pulled down by Matt and was in the middle of him and Mello rolling around in the snow, knocking snowmen off of their pedestals. Right before they went rolling down a small slope, Near saw L being tackled by both Matsuda and Raito and laughed as he was nearly buried beneath bodies.

It's okay, he thought, with a mouthful of snow, it's okay!

-

to be continued.

-

A/N: … Right, well, L's gallery is next chapter. -nod nod- Thoughts? Comments? Want to confess your undying love for me? Just kidding. Review, please.