--The Allure of Conflict--
"You actually worked on the Harold Kippman case?" Raito asked, pointing to the name of a well-known serial killer that had practiced medicine for years, but was actually secretly killing his patients under the guise of their failing health.
"I came into that investigation very late. Do you know how many people Mr. Kippman had murdered by the time I was called to investigate?"
"How many?" Raito asked, suddenly very intrigued by this turn of events.
He'd always been interested in criminology. It was the exact reason he'd taken those cases from his father some years ago and it was also the reason why he wanted to work for the NPA.
If there was ever anything that Raito found interesting (out of all the things that he couldn't put his heart into) it would be detective work.
There was a sense of accomplishment there. Out of all the "noteworthy" things he had done in his life, all his achievements in school and on the tennis court, nothing had ever come close to when he was putting his intellect to some actual use and locking criminals away.
L's career was the pinnacle of that.
He was somewhat envious of the detective, since he had worked on cases that had taken up a good portion of news history; but, he supposed, all of that was in the past now.
Today, he was different person. He had practically revolutionized the justice system with the deathnote, and not even L, with his impressive background, could boast of that.
"He was already on his 456th victim when I was called in. The tricky thing about a murderer with a medical license is the fact that his crime scene is an environment where death is commonplace."
"So how'd you catch him?" Raito asked. He remembered a few years back this case had been all over the news, but the details surrounding the process of the investigation and the investigators behind it had been left a mystery.
Now that he knew exactly who had worked on the investigation, it all made sense that the court-case had not been televised and the execution announced.
After collecting all the necessary evidence and then some, L had probably gotten an all-clear to assassinate the man. L was practically an autonomous government in his own right, with massive amounts of manpower and resources of the legal and illegal spectrum. He was recognized the world over as a force of judgment, so the government in charge of getting rid of Mr. Kippman had probably delegated that task over to L, who in turn had asked his right-hand man to quietly cap Mr. Kippman in the head.
If Raito had to guess, he'd say everything had gone down that way – which was fine with him, since scum like that didn't deserve a painless death like the execution chair or lethal injection.
"Mr. Kippman is what you would call a gain-motivated serial killer. He killed once. He thought it suited him, so he continued to kill, and with each kill, he became sloppier. He might have been a prolific murderer over a course of twenty-five years, but once I tracked him down by the forged will of one of his victims, it was all very…easy."
Raito knew what such an intentional pause meant. L had said "easy," but was probably thinking along the lines of "disappointing."
Raito could sympathize. He understood that feeling, he thought, more than anyone did.
Disappointment in his last life had been as familiar to him as the back of his hand.
He was disappointed in class; he was disappointed at home; he was disappointed with society.
He was disappointed with everyone and everything around him.
However, the only person who he could truthfully say had never disappointed him was L. And he supposed the feelings were mutual in that respect.
Raito, feeling a sudden strange disjointedness, looked over to where L was sitting next to him.
But when he had glanced over at him, he had not meant for their eyes to meet, and so it felt awkward when it did.
Raito smiled easily enough; despite the position he had put himself in, as he brushed off the weirdness with an expression of warmth. L was staring at him, but not with the pinpoint focus that he liked to favor him with. It was more dazed and lost.
Raito was the first to turn his eyes away and return to his reading.
L had followed his lead quickly enough and had begun to poke at his cake.
The silence between them was uncomfortable, which was not something that he was used to feeling around L, especially with both parties so adept at conversation.
Raito was staring at the words in front of him, but his focus was on the person next to him.
That had been really strange.
It was kind of…and kind of not like that time he'd first met Misa and she was explaining how the shinigami eyes worked with a sketch. He'd had a fleeting thought that maybe she wasn't so bad, that he should watch himself and keep himself from developing feelings for her.
Of course, anything of romantic interest had been crushed when she started pestering him again.
Misa was cute, but only when she was of some use to him and not acting like a completespaz, for lack of a something more appropriate.
L seemed to like her a lot, which made sense, since both of them freaked him out on a regular basis, either separately or in joint fashion.
Now that Raito had all those times of suffering L and Misa's joint teasing firmly affixed in mind, he easily found his focus again.
He looked down at the journal in his hands and went back to reading.
He was currently working on only two hours of sleep, so maybe that could explain his wondering mind. But he had never been one to stray, so he could only guess he was being stupid and letting L get under his skin.
L was apparently very good at doing that.
Thankfully, L's case accounts were also very distracting, and Raito found himself quickly absorbed with his reading material.
Raito might hate L with a passion that he'd never felt towards anyone or anything in his life, but that did not stop him from respecting the bastard.
L was the only person he'd ever felt…equaled to.
When he thought about it in simple terms, he supposed he liked L -- but purely for his intelligence and a certain deliberate antisocial trait that had made it easier for him to relate.
Sometimes he lavishly pondered on the idea that if L had come along first… if he had ever met L in an actual school setting, apart from all of this, he wondered, would they have become friends?
Undoubtedly, he would have been more than enough competition for him. School would have actually been…
Nevertheless, L was his enemy and thinking such things was a waste of time, since they could meet no other way. These events were a necessity for them to meet. He had to be Kira and L had to be the greatest detective.
They had to be in competition to see the other's better points. To feel that spark of humanity that had been denied them for so long -- that humbling feeling of having someone better than you, someone smarter than you in different moments, come along and pluck things away that you wanted. To feel the rage of momentary defeat that would follow their mental battles, to feel the surprise, the awe, and then the overwhelming brilliance of triumph...
Those were things that L incited within him, and on some level, distant from his goals and his aspirations, he was thankful. L had given him something to strive for again, to work hard at, to curse and swear over. He had forgotten what frustration was, what pure, unmitigated joy felt like.
L was a combination of that for him. He was frustrated by his intelligence and he was overjoyed at the satisfaction he got from stomping all over that intelligence with his own.
He respected L so much he could admit… maybe he could fall in love with that. That aspect of L, not the person, but the ideal of intelligence he offered; the philosophy that was at constant work behind those eyes; the image that everyone was so fond of: the mysterious, almost omnipotent presence that they had built up in their imaginations, like human beings were tempted to whenever they were given an unknown.
Raito may not feel any romantic notions toward human beings, but he was very much a romantic thinker for ideals, for justice. He loved concepts like that, and L in his essence was a form of justice. Had been, until he had come up against him and fallen off the righteous path.
But L had never been the zenith of justice to begin with. Maybe his image had served that purpose, but the real L was something entirely different. The bastard hired con artists and thieves alike, had wanted to wait for the Yotsuba group to kill so he could get evidence, and then had hypocritically wanted to test out the deathnote on convicts.
Convicts were the dregs of society, but he was killing them for a greater purpose. L had wanted to kill them for evidence in his case. L would do anything to win, and that trait, that mindset, had made him very different from the traditional version of justice.
Raito was the justice of the masses now, and L it seemed had forfeited that role over to him and was now the prideful justice of himself. They were both in it for the pride. There was never any question about that. He did not want to lose to L and L did not want to lose to him. The entire world could go up in a ball of apocalyptic flames and Raito believed they would still be fighting, still staring each other down from the polar opposites that their existences took up.
L was very suited to the role of villain. Raito was thrilled that such a smart bastard was his nemesis, because it only made his victory, Kira's image, and his pride that much greater when he was finally able to defeat L.
Looking over at the detective, Raito masked the onset of malicious thoughts with a neutral gaze.
L caught his stare again, but they broke away from each other when the front door opened and Watari stepped in.
And Raito would have gone back to his reading if he hadn't caught the large, black case that Watari was carrying. He looked over to L for an explanation, since the detective was eternally making Watari the bearer of whatever his current schemes entailed, but the only thing he got was a profile of L's head.
L was stacking the plates in front of him, moving them elsewhere as Watari set the case down in that cleared spot and began to turn the combination on the lock.
Raito was not a person driven by instinct. He only used logic to resolve situations. But this time around, his gut felt very uneasy, and it was right to feel so as he watched L reach into the black case and pull out a gun.
That uneasy-gut-feeling had quickly turned into full-fledged panic!!
L then turned to him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do while holding a gun, and said, "I wasn't lying when I said I'd take good care of Raito-kun."
If there was one thing that Raito could not keep control of in respects to facial expression, it would be his surprise, and so the wide-eyed stare from him was quite sufficient at summing up his reaction to this news.
Thankfully, L was not holding the gun in the usual manner that he picked up objects, but that still did not make this situation any less tolerable.
The three men at the surveillance station were no longer looking at the screens that should have garnered their full attention, but at the detective who was currently breaking a variety of laws right in front of them!
L had noticed the stares and turned in their direction. "Gun regulations are very strict in France. Fortunately, we have connections in the Armée de Terre that lets us purchase military arms."
L tilted the gun, moved his face closer to inspect it, and then turned to Watari and said, "I prefer the 92G Elite II."
"If I had been given sooner notice, I could have smuggled them into the country. Getting the Beretta 92-make from a source that is not military is difficult, so you will have to put up with the standard model and not the elite," Watari explained tersely.
"But the elite looks cooler," L commented and gave his right-hand man a semi-grumpy look.
"That's so illegal that I don't even know where to begin." Pointing disapprovingly at L, Aizawa turned back to the others, who were still staring at L breaking laws left and right. He gave them a "this is ridiculous" look before he turned in L's direction and shouted across the room, "You got a license for that?"
"No, but Watari does," L replied. "However, I'm quite adept at handling them, so no worries."
L finally turned his eyes back on Raito and then proceeded to wave the gun at him, as it were an extension of his hand. It was at this moment that Raito broke away from his surprise and found the emotion that always awaited him after the ugly shocks L was so fond of doling out.
Staring at L with blank severity, Raito asked quietly, but very intently, "what is this?"
The rest of the investigation team started at the question. L stared back at him calmly and replied, "I thought it was obvious. Your father was very cross at me for picking you as my proxy and I thought to reconcile it with him by showing how serious I was at offering the protection I had talked about. I know it's not my usual methods, and I really don't like to use guns, but if we walk in there unarmed and something --"
"I can't believe you!" Raito said in disbelief. "This won't make my father any accepting of this situation. It'll make him even angrier. And you know -- you know how much I hate guns!"
Raito was furious, but for reasons other than what he was shouting about. He truthfully did not like guns, but he could tolerate them. That would not make him angry. What made him angry was that L seemed to be intentionally provoking him with the memory of that day his father had used a gun to scare him.
He could clearly remember how terrified he'd been when his father had pulled that gun on him. It had not been a faked reaction. That terror had been real. He had been so vulnerable during that time and for L to bring up such a nasty memory --
It enraged him. But he was handling this situation the best way he could: by exchanging this one anger for another. It was only natural for a person that had gone through the experiences he had with guns to be standoffish around them, to react in this explosive way, so his anger would be masked with that reason.
"Raito-kun, please calm down. This is the only choice that I'm left with at the moment. I will not allow anyone to enter that church when we are to address Mr. Ignatius. I will even have Mr. Aiber and Miss Wedy clear out for the time being."
L looked down at the weapon in his hands and clenched his fingers tightly around the handle. "I'm very uneasy about entering that church. They obviously have no metal detectors and the Father seems trusting. He will not search us for weapons. It will be assumed that we would not have enough gall to enter into a church with a weapon --"
Raito gave L a horrified look. "Of course it'll be assumed, because they would never think we'd do something like this!"
With negotiations having broken down so quickly, L took the route that was most useful to him when people were opposed to his ideas.
He quickly dismissed them.
"Raito-kun, this is not up to you. I'd like to remind you that your life is not the only one in danger, so I will take all the necessary precautions that are open to me. A gun might not stop the Father from killing us if he is indeed a kira and has made the eye trade, but it's better than nothing."
Raito shook his head angrily at him. "But you can't just do as you --"
The muzzle of the gun being thrust in his face suddenly silenced him.
"This is what we're up against -- or a power similar to it that can kill us on the spot. You do not want me to use the murder-notebook and I've heeded you there, but do not think I will continue to be unreasonable because of you."
Raito narrowed his eyes at the double insult that was L's actions and his words.
"L, you bas-"
Click.
It was the sound of L removing the safety on the gun and simultaneously squeezing the trigger. Raito's blood had run cold for that one second. The gun was not loaded, but the motions still made him freeze in terror.
"Bang. Now you're dead."
L removed the gun from his sights and placed it down on the table. "Is that enough to convince you?"
"Hey." Aizawa was standing up from his chair so he could walk over to them, probably to break up the storm that he saw quickly brewing between the two.
Raito quietly and suddenly stood up from his seat. The swift motion knocked his chair back, and the loud noise it made when it hit the floor pounded through the room, as if a gavel had been sounded.
Raito silently turned his entire body to face L -- and then he promptly slapped him across the face.
There was a terrible silence following what he did. The entire room halted at the sound his palm made when it connected with L's cheek, but Raito did not falter in his decision.
His first reaction had actually been to punch L, but his points were always quickly lost by the ensuing violence whenever he took that approach. L was acting like such a raging idiot right now (pointing a gun at him and then actually pulling the trigger) that the slap to the face was looking more and more like the best choice to deal with him.
It was so infuriating. L knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he would be jumpy around guns for the simple, understandable reason that he was a kira suspect and to have the person who was repeatedly accusing you of the crime, to have them pointing a gun at you --
What the hell did L think was going to happen?!
He'd be overjoyed at having a gun pointed at him?
That psychopath!
L sat there like a chastised child, wide eyes staring straight ahead of him, but not focusing on anything in the room. Raito hoped the lesson had sunk in. L really needed to learn some self-control and it didn't look like anyone had ever volunteered to teach him even a smidgen.
Holding back a truly nasty sneer, Raito strategically hid his face as he moved to fix his chair up-right. He settled it back on its legs and was about to sit down, when L suddenly kicked him hard in the stomach.
The wind was instantly knocked out of him and Raito hit the ground, coughing and clenching his midsection.
"You just slapped me," L said, as if he didn't understand how someone could do that to him.
This time around Raito did not hold back the sneer. He glared at L full-force, eyes almost a golden color, as he rose up from the floor, punched L solidly in the face and knocked his spoiled-ass out of his chair.
"Oh man," Matsuda said nervously. Aizawa had moved forward to go stop them, but Matsuda grabbed him by the arm. "No wait! -- the chief, don't you remember what the chief said? He said to leave them alone when they get like this."
"But not when we're all in the same room!" Aizawa shouted and winced when he saw L lodge a foot in Raito's ribs and knock the teen back against the wall.
"I know but…" Matsuda finished lamely and looked to Mogi for support. The bigger man was no longer paying attention to them, but looking at the two boys as they top-sized the table and all the furniture within proximity.
"Jesus Christ," Aizawa breathed out. The last time he'd seen them fight was through a camera screen, but being in the same room was a completely different thing…
Man they were really going at it.
He understood how stressful this case was, especially for Raito since the boy had his privacy constantly invaded upon and had to put up with L's accusations day in and day out. Aizawa certainly didn't blame Raito for decking L. Tch. He'd actually thought about doing it once or twice.
Watari was still standing by the table (now upside down), his demeanor calm and collected, as he held the weapon's case in his hand and patiently waited for the violence to run its due course.
Raito had gotten L in some kind of headlock, but L had actually been able to kick him in the back and knock him forward.
L was suddenly pulled forward by the chain and Raito slammed his fist into his jaw, knocking L back a couple of steps, until the detective used that momentum and flipped back on his hands, simultaneously catching Raito in the chin with his foot.
Raito felt his knees give, the hit shaking his equilibrium, but from his sudden crouch he shot forward and tackled L into the wall.
"Ouch," Aizawa winced and thought this was actually better than some of the paper-view fights he'd watched. These two might be smaller than the usual combatants, but damn did they ever kick the living shit out of each other. He was actually tempted to place down a bet.
Eh -- might as well. They were already breaking all kinds of laws by allowing L to carry a gun. They might as well throw in some gambling while they were at it.
"Twenty bucks says Yagami-kun makes L eat floor."
Matsuda looked conflicted for a moment before he said, "I think L has a chance. He knows stuff like kung fu." Matsuda stared up at the ceiling, as if the roof would give him the answers to this most problematic betting situation, but quickly consented with a cheerful shout of "Alright! Twenty bucks on L."
Mogi did not place down bets like the others, but had gone back to his station so he could keep an eye on the cameras and do some actual work.
Raito was now attempting to pin L's legs to the wall, so he could get a good, proper hit on him, but L's knee shot up and hit in the square in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, but still had enough awareness to grab L by the front of the shirt and yank him along.
L fell right on top of him and it knocked the wind out of him, but Raito quickly rolled them over and straddled L's legs so he wouldn't be kneed again.
He got two good hits on L, before the detective was able to get his hold to slacken and Raito slipped up from his previous seat on the legs under him, giving L the room to maneuver one of his legs up and actually hook Raito around the neck.
Raito made a strangled sound, but was not given more time to try and get out of that hold as L brought his other leg up and then slammed him down to the floor.
"Wow, isn't that the triangle-hold? I once saw a guy perform that at Kōrakuen. I remember the crowd went nuts," Matsuda recalled, like an enthusiastic child that remembered his first outing at the circus.
"If you're talking about the Ishiki Fight, then what Ryuuzaki's doing is a bastardized version of the triangle-hold," Aizawa detailed, since he followed these things regularly and thought himself quite an expert.
"He's improvising," Matsuda defended.
"Ah whatever," Aizawa answered back and was about ready to call L on some dirty fouling.
Incensed beyond a reasonable doubt, Raito hit L squarely in the chest with his foot. L winced and his break in concentration gave Raito the chance to push away form his legs and stagger to his feet.
However, it didn't seem like L wanted to leave the floor, as he caught his foot on Raito's ankle and tripped him, and so effectively sending the teen sprawling.
"He's a ground-fighter. I hate those," Aizawa said.
"L's going to win," Matsuda triumphed. "I told you so."
"You did not tell me so," Aizawa snapped back. Dammit, he didn't want to lose twenty bucks to this idiot. Raito better get his ass in gear and win him his money.
"God, I wish you'd just fucking grow up!"
Both Aizawa and Matsuda looked to each other at the onset of catty language coming from Raito. It was kind of shocking to hear such a nice boy swearing, but they could understand where he was coming from when L was currently stepping on one of his hands.
Raito kicked his leg out again and hit L square in the knee.
"That's unsportsmanlike," L said and hobbled backwards. "Raito-kun, I think you have a serious case of Cyclical Non-Uterine Dysmenorrhea."
Aizawa might not care to be updated on the latest medical journal weekly, but (through the stupid way guys could joke with each other at the office) he did at least know what the technical term for male-PMS was called, and surprisingly, so did Matsuda, as the man put a palm to his mouth and laughed behind it.
Raito took one good look at L and then punched him in the side of the head.
L stumbled to the right, braced himself up with one hand, and then from that stooped stance, he kicked Raito backwards and the boy hit the bedroom door and tumbled inside.
L hunched over to the door and pulled it shut, so he was outside and Raito was in. However, the chain between them would not allow the door to fully close, and so he had to push against it.
"Get out from behind the door, you imbecile! What are you, five?!" Raito shouted, voice muffled behind the door, but still very angry-sounding. The doorframe began to rattle violently. Everyone suspected Raito was slamming his shoulder against it to force the door open and get to L.
"Raito-kun is super-scary when he's mad," Matsuda whispered, as if he didn't want Raito to hear and come after him too.
L shored up against the door and trying with all his might to keep Raito inside, suddenly turned towards the rest of the investigation team and calmly said, as if he didn't have a massively irate brunette on the other side of the door that wanted to very much kick his ass and then hand it back to him, "Raito-kun and I will be discussing some things in the other room, so if something should happen while we're away, please let Watari handle it."
Suddenly the door flew open and Raito grabbed L by the front of his shirt and yanked him inside the room. The door was locked behind them and almost immediately Matsuda and Aizawa heard a loud thump.
If Aizawa and Matsuda hadn't been outside, they would have known that the loud thumping noise had come from Raito yanking L so hard that the detective stumbled forward and hit the floor face first.
Raito was currently taking full advantage of L's tumble and stepping on the back of his head. He thought it was a nice change from being kicked in the stomach.
"Have you any idea how badly I can kick your ass right now?" Raito punctuated his point by easing his leg down, so his knee was now pressing into L's back.
"Raito-kun makes it sound like he'll come away completely bruiseless."
With the detective's head planted in the carpet, his muffled threat lost any and all intimidation points. Raito favored the back of L's head with a truly vicious smile. "That sounds about right."
He'd played nice with L for a good amount of time. There was nothing in the rules he'd made for himself that said he couldn't kick L around for some time. Surely he had good reasons for it. They were having a fight after all.
"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Raito tossed out, as he went for L's forearm so he could pull it backwards. However, he felt a grip on his calf when he leaned in, and before he could shake it off, L had yanked and he fell backwards.
"Raito-kun could maybe try a little harder," L retorted.
There was an ugly scuffle that lasted about one minute. He was able to shove L back against the wall, but the advantage he should have had with that move was made pointless by L gripping onto both of his wrists and rendering them useless for punching purposes.
There was another minute spent struggling through very close combat that made it impossible to execute an effective punch or kick from both parties.
They were able to wrestle each other down until they were half-kneeling on the floor, each struggling to push the other back and only ending up trapped in a futile seesaw motion.
Taking a deep breath, Raito looked L dead in the eyes. "You give up yet?"
"When did I ever say I was going to give up? But while we're on the subject, would Raito-kun like to bow out graciously?"
Raito had more upper body strength than L, so after a few more angry struggling incited by L's insults, he was able to rip his hands away.
He wound them in the front of L's t-shirt and he felt fingers at the same time catch against his jeans, rove up his sides and roughly pull him forward, until he was practically sitting on L's legs.
He was so close to L that he could feel his breath on his neck and his chest moving in rhythm to it. They were both looking each other.
The void in L's eyes was perfectly, strangely mirroring the light in his own. Raito hated that look. He hated it so much, because that look knew too damn much, was too curious, too rebellious, and too brave.
Tightening his fists in L's shirt, Raito slammed his head back into the wall, and then…
…then, they were making-out.
Raito wrapped both his arms around L's shoulders and pulled him forward. L seemed to be trying out the same move on him. The arm around his waist was insistent. Raito figured out why a couple of seconds later when he passed over L's boner.
"I'm still mad at you," Raito said; even though he was pressing himself down on L and watching the detective hit the back of his head on the wall again.
"Forgive and forget," L croaked.
"Then apologize," Raito demanded.
L stopped pawing at his back and promptly answered him with a resolute "No."
Raito narrowed his eyes.
What he should have done at that moment was slug L right in the smug face, but what he ended up doing was moving against him.
L tensed and shuddered. His head banged against the wall again, and like the first and second time, he didn't seem to notice that his precious skull had hit anything solid.
Raito had also gone instantly tense. He had brushed up against L's clothed stomach in his rush to move over him, and that familiar feeling of helplessness flashed through his mind. A brief flare of that heady sensation sparked in the pit of his stomach and Raito swallowed the breath he'd been holding.
Uh, not now. They were having a fight for goodness sake.
It wouldn't have been a bad idea to get L extremely worked up before leaving him to fend for himself. It would have been nice revenge for all the crap that he had put him through today, and the least he could do was return the favor.
But it wouldn't work if he was too aroused to even walk away properly. It was ridiculous how easy his body could transmute one frustration into another. And L wasn't helping, as his hands found his waist and attempted to shift him back and forth over his lap. Raito braced his hands down on the floor and stopped all movement with a flex of his hips and a squeeze of his knees around L's ribs.
"Raito-kun," L whispered and the fingers around his waist tightened. "We've fought enough. I'd like it if we made up now." L tried to slickly push him on his back, but Raito angered at the crafty excuses L could come up with, slammed him back against the wall.
"You never said you were sorry."
"And I don't intend to," L told him bluntly. There was suddenly a hand (just as blunt) fitting itself to the back of his neck and pushing him forward. Raito made an unenthusiastic attempt to get away from the mouth settling on his throat.
The hands he had braced down on the ground had transferred their grip over to L's shoulders. He again tried to push away, and he could easily break away from the now gentle touch around his neck, but that feeling in his stomach was out of control.
Raito shoved L against the wall again in pure, hot-blooded frustration, but instead of trying to get away, he pressed against L's stomach and shifted up, the move letting him rub against the firm surface of skin under L's shirt. Raito felt himself become fully erect in his jeans and he shifted back down to L's lap to get more of that touch.
L made a funny noise in the back of throat.
The hand on his neck was reaffirming its grip on his nape and dragging him even closer. Raito gasped when he felt lips travel up his neck and move back down, the touch no longer feather-light but a wet pull against the skin of his throat.
Groaning and grasping at the shoulders under him, Raito tilted his head so L could get more of the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He was rocking back and forth in L's lap, the horrible whining sound coming from his throat, as he rubbed against L's clothed stomach, making him just want it to be over with.
It was uncomfortably warm and very difficult to get off with two layers of clothing each between them. And after all the turbulent fighting, he was winded and aching all over. It couldn't have been as comfortable for L either, since he was below him, being pressed down into the hard floor and back against the wall with someone heavier to booth.
He had punched L repeatedly in the stomach. This shifting business probably wasn't helping L's bruises at all. It surely didn't help his.
This was absolutely the worst possible time they could have picked to do this, but despite all the unfavorable factors involved in getting them here, and despite all the antagonism existing between them, Raito couldn't bring himself to stop, not when L hooked his fingers in his belt loops and began to tug his pants down.
Raito was more than willing to help, as he pressed his hands over L's fingers and eased the material of his jeans over his hips, dragging his boxers along with it. Raito didn't take them off completely, but only so they wouldn't get in the way.
He then went onto lift up the hem of L's shirt and pressed his erection against his lean stomach. There was nothing but warm skin and the heavy motion of L breathing deeply in and out. Raito immediately knew it wouldn't last long, not with L already pressing against him in return and both of them moving against each other.
He came with L practically licking his throat and fingers curling around his neck and hips. He hadn't been able to restrain the noises. It was stranger and much more disorienting with the person right in front of you. Raito thought that was most likely the reason for his inability to keep quiet.
It took longer for L to find his release since he had not bothered with opening his pants, but Raito made sure L had fun all the same and pushed back hard against him through his jeans.
The mouth on him had not detached itself from his throat when L came. He didn't seem to want the air, and actually sunk his mouth down firmer on neck. Raito felt blunt pressure scrape against his skin before an edge of sharpness from teeth pinched his nerves. L seemed to need the occupancy of his mouth on something as the intensive waves of pleasure ripped through his body and he tried to control himself.
Afterwards, when quiet had descended on the room, Raito opened his mouth to say something and came up short.
He'd been ready to taunt L, but after their fight and that last burst of energy spent, Raito really didn't think any words would be sufficient enough to dig into the detective.
Lifting his head up from the black hair it had been nestled in, Raito stared down blearily at the detective. He caught L blinking, which was a strange feat to witness from him. L had also glanced over at him. They were now watching each other and it was a mixture of outright staring and glancing away.
After awhile L turned his head so it was occupying the curve of his neck and Raito let him. Maybe that gesture could be interpreted as a silent apology, with either him or L giving it, but Raito highly doubted that.
There was no such thing as an apology between them. Raito knew there never would be. It was important for them to have that sense of boundary from normal people. Only those who truly cared were made to apologize and shame themselves for another person. What they had was the complete opposite. They were intelligent for each other in terms of bragging rights. They were intelligent for their separate identities. They were intelligent because pride came before everything else. It was rivalry with intense physicality and Raito could not be happier with the shape their arrangement had taken.
A/n: They're dysfunctional, but that works for them.
1. Harold Kippman- His actual name is Harold Shipman. I used creative license to tweak his name. He goes by the nickname Dr. Death. He was convicted of 15 murders; a later inquiry stated he had killed at least 215 and possibly up to 457 people over a 25 year period.
2. Armée de Terre- Army of France
3. Beretta 92-- is a series of semi-automatic pistols. This is a standard gun for a French soldier.
4. 92G Elite II-- An updated version of the Beretta 92.
5. Kōrakuen Hall, -- an arena in Tokyo which hosts many boxing, professional wrestling, and mixed martial arts matches.
6. Cyclical Non-Uterine Dysmenorrhea or CNUD -- Male cramps. It exists people, and if you don't believe me, check out the website: Maclnnes and porritt institute. A possible explanation for why Raito killed so many people could lie in the theory of him existing in a constant state of PMS. So if that were true, the only hope to save mankind would not be L, but would be a bottle of Midol and a glass of water. Hmm…what kind of cracked-out A/n is this?