In the most elegant room on the ship, done in Louis Quince Versailles style, L sits on a divan, a group of women surrounding him. His mother, the Countess Rothes, and Lady Duff-Gordon are taking tea. L is as silent and still as a porcelain figurine as the conversation washes around him. Above the hum of the many voices, he hears his mother speaking.
"Of course, the invitations had to be sent back to the printers, twice. And his suit… oh let me tell you what an odyssey that has been… L wanted a red undershirt, and it was simply to spite me because he knows I detest the colour…"
L tunes her out and looks around the room, observing all the families. A mother and son sitting across from them, the mother correcting him on his posture and the way he holds his teacup. The boy seems to be trying very hard to please, his expression serious and focused. L pictures that as himself at that age, the relentless conditioning, the pain to becoming an Edwardian gentleman.
He calmly and deliberately turns his teacup over, spilling tea all over his front.
"Oh… Look what I've done." he says monotonously, "Excuse me, please."
…
Titanic steams forward in the dusk light, as if lit by the embers of a giant fire. Light stands right at the apex on the bow railing, his favorite spot. Closing his eyes, he allows the chilly wind clear his head.
He hears L's voice, right behind him…
"Hello, Light."
He turns and L is standing there, white button-down stained with tea.
"I changed my mind." he says.
Light smiles, his eyes drinking the younger man in. His cheeks are red with the chill of the wind, his eyes sparkle, and his hair blows wildly about his face.
"Matsuda said you might be up-"
"Shhhh… Come here." Light whispers, smiling that mischievous smile. He puts his hands on L's waist, as if he is going to kiss him.
"Close your eyes." he breathes into his ear, and when he obeys, turns him to face forward, toward the water, pressing him gently to the rail, standing right behind him.
"Okay, now step up." L hears right beside his ear, and hesitates, "It's okay. I've got you. I'll never let go."
He lifts his foot and moves it forward, stepping up onto the bow rail with both feet, feeling Light follow directly behind. His lack of vision intensifies his sense of touch, and he feels the length of Light's body pressing against him. He feels him take his two hands and raise them until he is standing with his arms outstretched on each side. L goes along with him, and when Light's hands return to his waist, L's arms stay up, like wings.
"Okay… Open them."
L gasps as his eyes open. There is nothing in his field of vision but the ocean, like there is no ship under them at all, just the two of them soaring. The Atlantic unrolls toward them, a hammered copper shield under a dusk sky. There is only the wind and the hiss of the ocean sixty feet below.
"I'm flying…" L whispers, leaning forward, arching his back. Light wraps his arms around his waist to keep him steady, singing softly.
"Alone he sleeps in the shirt of man, with my three wishes clutched in his hand…
The first that he be spared the pain that comes from a dark and laughing rain.
When he finds love, may it always stay true.
Yes I beg for the second wish I made too.
But wish no more, my life you can take,
To have him please, just one day wake
To have him please…
To have him please, just one day wake."
L closes his eyes, feeling himself floating weightless far above the sea. He smiles dreamily and leans back, gently pressing his back to Light's chest, who pushes slightly forward against him.
Slowly, Light raises his hands, running them along L's sides, to meet his, fingertips intertwining. Moving slowly, their fingers caress through and around one another, exploring.
Light tips his face forward into L's blowing ebony hair, letting the scent of him envelop his senses, until his cheek is against the others' ear. L turns his head until his lips are near Light's. He lowers his arms, turning further, until he finds Light's mouth with his.
Light wraps his arms around him from behind, and they kiss with L's head turned and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. They kiss slowly and tremulously, but with burning passion.
Light and the ship seem to merge into one force of power and optimism, lifting L up, buoying him forward on a magical journey, soaring onward into the night without fear.
…
L blinks, coming back to the present. He sees the wreck on the screens, the sad ghost ship deep in the abyss.
"That was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight." He says quietly.
Mello changes the tape in the mini cassette recorder, speaking into it, "Okay, so we're up to dusk on the night of the sinking. Six hours to go."
"I just don't get it," Matt says, "There's Smith, and he's standing there, and he's got the iceberg warning in his fucking hand…" he looks at Near and his child-like appearance, "Excuse me, his hand, and he's ordering more speed…"
"Twenty-six years of experience working against him. He figures anything big enough to sink the ship they're going to see in time to turn." Mello explains, looking at the screens, "But the ships' too big, with too small a rudder… it doesn't corner worth a damn. Everything he knows is wrong."
L ignores the conversation. He has the silver band on his finger, right next to a slightly newer one, turning it slowly. He watches the monitor, which displays the ruins of Suite B-52/56.
…
As they enter the sitting room of L's suite, Light becomes overwhelmed by the opulence of the room. The beautiful woodwork, the satin upholstery… He sets his sketchbook and drawing materials on a marble table.
"Will this light do?" he hears L ask behind him.
"Huh?"
"Don't artists need good light?" L tilts his head in confusion, like the first time Light had seen him.
"Zat eez true, but I am not used to working een zuch… 'orreeble condeetions." Light says in a terrible French accent, and his eyes widen as he spots L's paintings. Walking to them, he kneels in front of one of L's favorites. "Monet…" he runs his fingers over the canvas lightly, "Isn't he great? Look at his use of colour… I saw him once, through a hole in this garden fence in Gavarnie."
L walks to the adjoining walk-in wardrobe. Light watches as he works the combination to a small safe.
"Aiber insists on lugging this thing everywhere." L tells him, chuckling.
"Hmm… should we be expecting him anytime soon?" he asks, looking around the room.
"Not so long as the cigars and brandy hold out." L answers as he opens the safe door. Glancing up, he meets amber eyes in the mirror behind the safe. He opens the velvet jewelry box and removes the necklace, and holds it up for Light, who takes it nervously.
"That's nice…" he comments, "What is it, a sapphire?" he asks, gazing into the beautiful stone.
"A diamond." L corrects, "A very rare diamond."
"Whew…"
"Light, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls," Light nods. "wearing this." L says.
"Alright."
"Wearing only this." he amends, smirking at Light's amusing facial expression.
Light looks at him, surprised, and swallows thickly. "O-okay."
L moves into his dressing room, removing his clothes and putting on a thin robe made of black chiffon. Walking into the sitting room, he sees Light laying out his pencils like surgical tools, his sketchbook lying open and ready. He looks up as L walks further into the room, eyes sliding over the entirety of his barely-covered body.
"The last thing I need is another portrait of me looking like a porcelain doll." L tells him, swinging the tie to his robe in one hand and holding out a dime in the other, "As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want."
He tosses the dime at Light and steps back, parting the robe slowly, the blue stone glimmering against his creamy chest. His heart is pounding as he slowly lowers the robe. Light looks stricken, gazing at him as the material drops to the floor.
"Um… Just lie on the bed- the couch." he says quietly, blushing and motioning to the yellow couch. L lies down, still facing the other boy, and attempts to situate himself, moving his arms from above his head to help position himself. "Tell me when it looks… right." he says, squirming a bit under Light's gaze.
"No… put that arm back up…" Light says, all traces of a blush gone from his face, "hand by your face… now lower your head a bit, eyes to me. Keep them on me. That's it."
He starts to sketch, looking up from time to time to make sure he's getting the lines right.
"So serious." L giggles. Light smiles a little and L relaxes again. He can tell when Light reaches his more private areas on the drawing.
"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste." L says, stifling a laugh as Light turns a little redder, "I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."
"He does landscapes." Light says, sweating, "Relax your face. No laughing."
Amber eyes barely seen over the sketch paper sweep over L's naked form and settle on his own deep black orbs before sliding back to the paper on which his nearly-bare body is being immortalized. L finds his cheeks flushing as well at the idea of being observed in his current state, the image of Light's eyes burning itself into his memory like the fiery gaze that sends flames licking over every inch of his skin.
Despite his nervousness, Light draws with sure strokes, and what emerges is the best thing he's ever done. L's pose is relaxed, his hands soft and beautiful, and his eyes radiating that energy, that fire that Light loves about him.
…
"… My heart was pounding the entire time. It was the most… erotic moment of my life… up until then, at least." L looks away from the monitors to see a semicircle of listeners staring in rapt, frozen silence.
"So what happened next?" Matt asks, grinning.
"You mean, did we 'do it'?" L asks, smiling, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Jeevas, but Light was very professional."
…
L gazes at the drawing. Light has x-rayed his soul… He leans against the artists shoulders, wearing his robe again, watching as Light initials it.
"Date it, Light. I want to always remember this night."
He does, April 14, 1912.
L smiles, leaning over Light's shoulder to give him a quick kiss, which turns to a smoldering one rather quickly, before departing to get dressed and leave Aiber his gift.
FFN wasn't letting me sign in... Anyways, here's the kiss and the drawing, tell me if I messed it up or if it's good. Thanks.
-B