L turned on his side uneasily, the bed creaking until he rolled back over and was staring up at the ceiling fan, white blades spinning softly. Turning his head, L stared at the body on the other side of the bed -- faced away from him, but breathing deeply.
He turned back to stare at the ceiling fan, sighed, and then sat up to search around for his pants.
Stupid…
He pulled on his jeans and sat on the edge of the mattress, gazing off into space.
He was so stupid sometimes.
What did he think he was doing? What did he think he was doing going after Raito this way when he had sworn to leave it be?
Moments of weakness, yes he had them, off and on he was guilty as any other person was of becoming confused and seeking out quick-fix solutions to banish what was troubling him. He took his moral short-cuts like everyone else -- he knew that. But he also recognized in himself an invaluable spring of control that he had used and maintained throughout the years.
Control that had made him, forced him to finish the Kira case, to secretly take Higuchi's deathnote, the one that had once belonged to Raito, to take it with him on that day to the church when he had wanted to do nothing but put his whole faith in Raito, to believe that he would not betray him.
And then having everything fall apart in front of him, having to continue to be near his would be murderer, talking to him even; witnessing the evil in his heart and then knowing the whole time he would have to put him to death – self-control and certainly a bit of madness had played key roles in retrieving Misa's deathnote and properly closing out that case.
But for all the effort he had put into it, for all the resources and energy he poured into his cause, it always seemed like a drop in the bucket; one that was veritably sucking the life out of him.
So at the end of everything, when he tallied up how each side was faring, and he asked himself 'where did all my strength of mind go?' he knew he had left a good portion of it in that god-forsaken church in Lourdes (probably had bled it out all over the floors), while the rest he had used up to sustain him through Raito's incarceration.
Now depleted of what he needed most, the strength that he had needed yesterday when so caught up in what was being said he had reacted irrationally – what was he supposed to do?
L rested his forehead against his knees.
He was just so tired of this… Of putting himself in this situation and not knowing what to do.
It was very taxing for a person who had never dealt with others on a regular basis, and then to be dealing with someone as intricate as Raito, day in and day out, with nothing more to go on than his notions -- it was no surprise he wasn't getting anywhere.
But it wasn't like he wanted Raito to accept him, or to forgive him for the things he had done. His actions weren't something that needed forgiveness because they were intentional. Even the scars on his back that were not his doing, those were symbols of consequence that the brunette would have to carry with him forever. L would never think to apologize for the things that happened in Russia, and it would be a cold day in hell when Raito apologized for anything he had done to him in the name of his beliefs.
They at least understood that much about each other, and it was the only place where their opinions did not drastically diverge and go their separate paths.
What L wanted from Raito was not love -- he could cater to his impossible dreams in small ways, but somewhere deep down he knew it was never going to work out. Therefore, he did not want love from Raito. No, what he wanted from Raito was for him to acknowledge his feelings.
He didn't like how quickly he had dismissed him, and even though it would have been safer to let the brunette continue to think that way, it just bothered L more than he cared to admit.
He knew that he was the last authority to go for in matters of love. He had never even given it more than a cursory definition up until recently. He viewed it as that thing that happened between people who'd been brought together because their lives happened to cross paths; to people who were physically attracted to each other, who began to grow interested in the other's life, who maybe thought it was a good idea to spend an indefinite amount of time with the person.
And really nothing had changed in his definition, because that was essentially what it was. You met the person, you got to know them, things happened that made you feel you were connected, and then you were having suddenly irrational thoughts like 'I wonder if he hates cake, because he always makes a subtly troubled face when he sees me eating it' or 'he will get over that once we start living together'…
L might not have any similar experiences to compare his love, but he felt a deep and blind conviction for it. It was the second time in his life that he felt so strongly towards something that he did not have any definite proof of – the first being his belief that Raito was Kira when he was constantly being assaulted with evidence that said otherwise.
He had been right back then and he knew he was right now.
He was in love with Raito, and however much the brunette kicked up a fuss, and belittled him for it and came up with different reasons as to why he was deluding himself, he would not listen.
After all, if there was one topic that L was absolutely confident of, it was L himself, and no one, not even Raito, would be a match for him there.
L lifted his head when he felt the bed shifting and watched Raito as he turned on his back, the brunette wincing slightly from his motions – most likely from the scars -- and rolling over to face him. He sighed deeply, and it did not take much for his breathing to level out again and for him to fall back under the spell of sleep.
Grateful that he would not need to face Raito at the moment, L turned away from him and towards his own conflicting thoughts.
He might know where he stood on readiness for commitment with the brunette, but it still did not mean he should have let yesterday happen. It was a bad idea in general to give into Raito when he demanded to have his way. It usually caused his oversized ego to get out of control, and that was the last thing he needed to deal with right now.
An arrogant Raito was much harder to deal with than an angry one. At least L could duck when things were thrown at him. But there was no such thing as ducking when the verbal abuse was being flung around. And Raito wasn't the type to hold back on anyone's account. He knew exactly what to say to get under his skin.
The sheets rustled and L turned to see Raito finally waking up, the bandages wrapped around his chest and back slipping down as he sat up, revealing an arch of one of the scars, the deformed skin red and painful looking.
It didn't look like Raito was shy about letting anyone see them, and slipping his thumb under the binding that ran over and held up the rest of the loose bandages, he snapped it deftly; the white stripes unraveling quickly and falling in coils around him.
Blood had seeped through some of the gauze (the results of last night's exertions probably to blame), and L could not seem to look away despite knowing he should.
His nose had immediately picked up the sharp smell of an antiseptic as he watched Raito slip out of bed, leaving the bloody bandages behind like a cast-off second skin. The fringes of the first coil was yellowed, and L assumed he had applied a good amount to his injuries to further fight off infection.
That probably explained why Raito was wearing more cologne than usual.
He didn't want anyone to smell it on him.
L heard the bathroom door close and the squick of the lever as the shower was turned on. He should leave before he came back out, but L just sat there pondering about what he would say when Raito was finished.
Yesterday he had set a very wrong precedent, one that he had been trying to prove false for the entirety of their fight. He didn't want Raito to think that he was being persistent with him because he was not getting his way and that sex would shut him up on the matter.
He recognized it was a mistake to sleep with Raito when the brunette did not feel the same way about him. It only added to the troubles surrounding their already complicated relationship with each other. He didn't want to make matters worse between them, so it would be a good idea if he stopped while he was ahead.
The door suddenly opened and Raito walked out of the bathroom just as quietly as he had gone in. He had already put on a new dressing over his cuts, and despite reasoning that he was not the one to blame, L still felt relieved to see them covered up.
Raito had stopped near his closet, and L was certain that he would start dressing in front of him, as past events had proved he had no problem stripping down in front of him, so when Raito instead turned to face him, it made the detective flounder for words.
He was looking directly at him, but from the way his eyes registered no emotion, it was more accurate to say he was looking right through rather than at.
"You look angry," he said off-handedly and L was startled both by his words and the clarity in his voice.
"No…" he replied, not so sure of himself. "I'm not angry. I'm…" he paused, finding it hard to articulate what he was feeling right now.
Why was it so hard to explain this?
"I'm not angry… but I think I'm disappointed." Yes, if he was angry, he would have had a much easier time expressing it. He wasn't angry; he was just disappointed with his behavior and how things were going despite his wanting to change them. He did not know what to do, so he was disappointed in himself.
"I warned you, didn't I?" Raito let his hands fall to his sides. "That whatever you think you're feeling for me isn't real." There was a marked difference in his tone from the one he used yesterday, not sympathetic, but not unkind either.
L looked away as if he could avoid the topic.
"Back then," Raito began soberly, "I did everything you wanted me to do, and because of that, you grew attached to that person. But trust me, you don't want a relationship with the real me. To tell you the truth, I think it would be too difficult for you. It requires a lot of compromise and I don't think you seriously have it in you."
Raito sighed when he wasn't met with a response. He had shifted on his other foot as if it was too much to stand there, looking down on him.
"And to be completely frank," Raito continued, exasperated, "I don't want to tie myself down to you or anyone else for that matter. I had sex with you because you're convenient, but more importantly, you won't carry any illusions that I'm suddenly 'in love' with you now that we did it."
And truth be told, L did not hold any such beliefs. In fact, he was more convinced than ever that these matters had irrevocably hurt any of his chances at getting closer to the brunette.
As Raito had once been convenient for him, he was now convenient for Raito. It was a slap in the face to be told that you were only getting attention because you knew how to shut up and put up with it.
Raito knew not to try this crap with Misa because he knew the girl would kick up an unbelievable storm if he had sex with her and then told her he didn't want to commit and she would have to deal with that. She would at least stick up for herself in this situation and demand a better explanation as to why Raito was being such an intolerable douche (though she might not word it that way).
It was the right thing to do. As a human being with pride, it was the right thing to do. But he was just so tired of caring about things that would never change. He didn't have the energy to fight it anymore.
And when L suddenly thought about how much Misa had given up for the chance to be with Raito, all the things she had given up for him unconditionally – he wondered if he was really deluding himself.
In comparison with hers, his love for Raito seemed to be only a drop in the bucket, one that was ultimately dependent on many complications, like reason and justice.
He would not sacrifice any of his beliefs for Raito, and because of that, he had to ask himself, 'was love always so rational and understated?' unlike Misa's love that flung her entire being into the moment and cared nothing for what would come of it.
Should integrity have any place in these feelings of his?
Only a few minutes ago had he been certain of his feelings, but as soon as Raito had voiced his opinion, it shook the foundation of his confidence. And he could blame this train of thought on his consummate need to uncover all possibilities before reaching a conclusion, but he was a man first and then a detective. Not the other way around. Going about this in the same way he would go about solving a case wasn't the right way to go about this… was it?
L stood up.
He was having a serious crisis over this matter and nothing would be accomplished by sitting here and waiting for it to solve itself.
He needed to go out and clear his head.
Mello couldn't wait to be outside, something about wide-open spaces and the freedom to run around without having to stop called out to him. It was around eight, and most of the children were downstairs, having breakfast, preparing for today's classes, or getting an early start on recess. There was usually a small group kicking around a ball at this time of the morning, so he would muscle in on their game. He needed the exercise since he'd been cooped up in his room all week, studying for those unfair tests that that bastard had created.
The blond scowled at the mere thought of Kiyoshi.
He was such a prick, frolicking around the institution like he didn't have a care in the world, and then giggling at them with that uppity face of his. That guy was just begging to pushed down a flight of stairs, Mello thought, but was suddenly distracted from what that would look like when he came upon L's room, the detective standing in front of his door and –
Mello rubbed at one of his eyes. Studying in dim light and skipping out on sleep was obviously not doing his eyes any good, but even so, for them to playing tricks on him now -- he hadn't expected that.
"What… are you doing?" Mello questioned, obviously alarmed by what he was seeing.
L stopped hitting his head against his door and it slumped against the wooden frame. "Correcting the problem," he told him simply before turning in his direction. "Is there something I can do for you, Mello?"
The boy shook his head numbly. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine now." L pressed a hand to his forehead. "Maybe it was not a good idea to do that, but sometimes the only cure for a hard head is something of equal strength."
Mello blinked and then "Are you sure you're okay? Did something… bad happen?"
L stopped rubbing his forehead and stared back at him with that unreadable expression.
"Don't worry; it's nothing that you should be concerned with. Adults have their problems and they work it out – or so I'm told."
Mello didn't know anything about that, but he was still concerned. "So you're not going to tell me?"
L smiled and patted him on the head, as if that would solve whatever problem he was facing. Then he added mysteriously, "This is a time in your life when many things will not be making much sense to you. I do not wish to add to your confusion."
Huh?! The space between Mello's eyes scrunched together in that confusion that L was ironically trying to spare him from.
"But if I could leave you some worthwhile advice," L posed, strangely lost in thought, "I think I would like to warn you about the follies of forming relationships with certain types, especially with those who are as smart or even smarter than yourself. Equality in relationships, I find, is actually quite overrated. It's much harder to get along with someone who is always one-step ahead of you, so choosing a partner that thinks at a slower pace might be more beneficial to maintaining a relationship, than let's say, having two individuals who are at constant ends with each other because they know what the other is thinking."
Mouth agape, Mello just stood there, staring at his mentor, his mind racing over what he supposedly meant by that! He knew, somewhere deep down, that he should be beyond mortified by what L was telling him, but he was truthfully too shocked to do anything but gawk.
"Well, I will take my leave now. I'll see you later, Mello" L called out and the boy nodded dumbly as the detective closed his door behind him.
Out in the hallway, Mello stood in a daze for a good two or three minutes. He wasn't feeling so up to a game of soccer now, and depleted of his usual energy, he instead made his way to the classroom.
He sat at an empty table off to the side, but he could still, as annoying as it was, overhear his peers talking. It was the usual stupid chitchat, and Mello could hardly be bothered to listen (not with what had happened minutes ago still echoing around in his head).
However, as time passed by and the voices of his classmates grew louder, the topic of discussion became apparent and Mello found himself listening in.
They were talking about last night.
Possibly everyone in the hallway and in the neighboring rooms had heard something shattering against the wall last night. It had certainly prompted all curious parties – and there were lots of curious boys and girls at Wammy House – to head towards the commotion.
It was now common knowledge around the institution that L and Kiyoshi did not exactly get along. Practically everyone had seen some form of infighting between the two. Things had mellowed out in the last few weeks in terms of arguments, but the peace had obviously come to a screeching halt when things were shattering against the walls.
And it was definitely not a good sign when the room had gone so ominously quiet.
Unfortunately, no one had found out the reason why this was so, not when Roger, also alerted by crashing things, walked up the stairs and upon seeing them all crowded around Kiyoshi's door (some of them actually pressed up against the frame), started that annoying thing that all adults were prone to do when they happened upon a group of curious younglings:
He started shooing them away -- like he didn't think any of them had ever heard adults fighting before, and since they were orphans and a lot of them had been regulars of the foster care system before becoming residents of Wammy House, they were quite inclined to disagree.
"Even my foster parents didn't fight that much -- and they were both alcoholics."
Mello was not exactly thrilled to be brought back to the present by such a phrase, and he glowered at its loud mouth owner. After all, none of this was L's fault. And no one might actually know why they fought so much, but Mello was certain it had something to do with the fact that Kiyoshi was such a stuck-up asshole, and that was bound to drive anyone, even a reasonable person like L, completely nuts.
Hell, he was driving him bonkers, and he hadn't even spoken to him in the last two months. Mello could totally sympathize with L about annoying people and how even their mere presence in a room could ruin a person's day.
Speaking of which, Mello thought, as he heatedly glared at the white tuft of hair on the opposite side of the classroom, hunched over in a chair and solving another one of his jigsaw puzzles.
By the looks of it, he was entirely focused on his task. However, one could never be too sure when it came to Near, the white-haired boy looking up in time to meet his gaze head on.
Mello felt his blood crawl as those empty eyes stared back at him, but instead of turning away and giving him the satisfaction (because it was cowardice to not meet a challenge head on), Mello stuck out his tongue at him and made one loud 'nyah' sound.
Near didn't entirely look impressed (well he didn't look entirely anything since Mello had made up his mind a long time ago that Near only had one expression). Mello scowled nastily and was about to go over there and demand to know what his problem was, when Near suddenly, out of nowhere, smirked at him.
He smirked at him?
Mello blinked. He felt sort of out of place right now, and he had no idea why, but it was enough to keep him glued to his seat.
Near had calmly returned to his jigsaw puzzle, and finally remembering himself, Mello made a show of facing away from him and towards the wall. When he had situated himself in properly, he hunkered down on the table and felt his face go a shade brighter.
Today was turning out to be such a weird day.
There was a knock at the door that made him open his eyes.
L had been trying to get some rest since he had slept fitfully last night, but luck was apparently not on his side today, and he lay awake for the majority of the evening, annoyingly aware of every detail around him.
Even details outside the room, like that persistent knocking at his door…
L wished whoever it was would go away and stop pestering him. He was not in the mood to deal with anyone, least of all the children. It was uncalled for what he had said to a few of them throughout the day, especially to Mello who had showed concern over his attempt at "clearing his head" (unfortunately no clearing had taken place and he had only ended up with a minor headache). Depression did make him an unreasonable mess, and he would properly apologize to the boy tomorrow, but today, it would be for the best if he were left alone to mope.
Being alone when he was depressed would give him time to work out his issues, and quietly work them out he would have, had this person on the other side of his door understood the rule that after five knocks, it was a good idea to stop.
"Open the door," the voice dryly called, a tad annoyed.
L's head snapped up from his pillow as he recognized who it belonged to, and when he went to do as told, he found Raito standing in his threshold, ever composed and radiant.
"Can I come in?" the teen asked, but consent, apparently, was an unnecessary courtesy when you were Raito Yagami, the brunette crossing into his bedroom and brushing past him with an indifferent sideways glance.
Dumbfounded, L turned around to find his visitor dusting a hand over a corner of his mattress. When he found it suitable, he sat down, and his gaze began to circle his bedroom, unconsciously scrutinizing certain aspects, the thinly veiled expression of disapproval showing through.
"What are you doing here?" L moved away from the door. His voice must have hinted at his unease or his befuddlement because Raito's gaze swiped across the room from the pile of dirty laundry lying on the floor to him with a speed that would have unnerved anyone.
Now that they were rid of the tired shadows, there was an alertness in his eyes that made them gleam like polished copper. A good night's rest had obviously done him good.
"I just came to check up on you," Raito informed nonchalantly, "Or would you rather be left alone?"
L didn't respond, but it was obvious from his expression what his answer would have been if he did.
Quickly picking up on this mood, Raito spoke up on his reasons for the sudden visit. "It wasn't my intention to hurt you," he told him, vaguely alluding to what had transpired this morning. "I only wanted to make it clear that I don't feel the same way. I'm flattered… I guess." He shrugged. "But I'm insulted by it too, so I lost my temper."
It wasn't an apology by any stretch of the word; he was merely explaining his side.
Normally, Raito was a very sensible person. When he grew angry -- not so much -- but L shouldn't have been surprised by his visit. He had been given time to calm down, and unlike L who was still moping, Raito had already gotten over it.
But then again, Raito had always been faster at recovering than he ever was. It was one of those things that made him so mentally strong.
"We've been able to reconcile our difference more than once now, but it doesn't seem to help us in the long run. If anything, our arguments have gotten worse."
Well, he had a point there.
"I don't know how to act around you sometimes because of everything's that happened. It makes me worry that this arrangement is not going to work out, and I obviously have something to fear from that if it doesn't."
L shook his head and walked over, reacting almost instantly; however this time, exceptionally soft-spoken. "I can't force us to get along, but you have nothing to fear from that, Raito. It's my fault that things are going this way, and I should apologize for taking it out on you."
Raito was toying with the end of his sheet and loosening a single string from the pattern, his fingers seizing upon it over and over until he snapped it free.
"It is your fault that things are going this way." He unraveled another thread, slower this time, more pensively. "I can't agree with you more on that," he asserted and suddenly let the thread fall from between his fingers.
"But… my other self obviously was encouraging you to act this way, so I suppose…" he sighed, "I suppose I'm somewhat to blame." He gave L a look, obviously not wanting him to express his agreement vocally. Then he stayed quiet, thinking over whatever had come to him during his pause.
"I don't really care how badly he wanted a new world," Raito told him, speaking from a point of view that was both outside the influence of Kira or L. It was always strange hearing him talk about his other self like he was another person, but for Raito Yagami, he could both identify with his past and curse it for all the trouble it had caused him now.
"I don't care how badly he wanted a new world" he repeated, "to sleep with the enemy -- is totally unacceptable. It defeats the very purpose of winning, since securing victory demands that you share a piece of yourself with the person you're in fact trying to overpower. I can understand coercing someone with sex when they're already leaning towards my side, but not when the person is so strongly opposed to my ideals that they would announce on live television that they're going to capture then execute me."
Hmm… L had never looked at it from that angle before, possibly because he'd been too busy getting into both Raito's head and his pants. Though this wasn't the first time he had overlooked something so obvious.
"I don't know what his thoughts were on our more… intimate exchanges, since he didn't comment on them in the journal like he did with everything else" Raito continued, "but I do know myself, and I won't sleep with someone that I'm not at least physically attracted to – or in your case – able to find some quality that can hold my attention."
L didn't know whether he was being complimented or insulted, and truthfully, he didn't care, not when he was starting to grasp where Raito was taking his point.
"It's possible that… he liked you, despite your differences and his obviously wanting to…" Raito trailed off as he caught L looking at him as if he was about to fall over.
Raito blinked, surprised when L suddenly sat down beside him and grabbed him by the shoulders, large black eyes boring into his own.
"Say that again?"
"Say what again?" Raito broke eye contact. "I'm not speaking of it as if it's set in stone, but it is possible. It doesn't change the fact that we were messing around then and we're still messing around now. I told you, didn't I? I don't want a relationship with you or anyone else, and that's the truth." Raito leaned away from his grasp and L slid his hands down his bare arms.
"But… if you want to mess around" he said hesitantly, "then I don't see any problem with that."
L touched his fingers to the inside of Raito's palm and the brunette remained unresponsive. "I cannot simply fool around with you anymore because it holds a different meaning for me than it did then (and even if L was confused about everything, he still knew that much). Can you still make that offer to me knowing that?"
"I'm only suggesting it as an alternative to the mess that we have going on here. You don't have to accept," Raito said breezily.
"Then I won't."
Raito faintly made a noise in the back of his throat, and by the look on his face, he was not entirely pleased by what he was hearing. And L immediately knew that look had nothing specifically to do with him and everything to do with how he was resisting.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing" Raito tersely replied. It was obvious that he was irritated.
"Do not do this to me."
"I'm not doing anything." Raito was staring at him coldly.
"You are an infuriating person." L let go off his hand and stood up from the bed. "You tell me I do not have a chance with you and yet you huff at me when I want to keep my distance."
"I really don't see what the big deal is." And as callous as his words were, Raito showed no remorse for them. "It's only sex."
L shook his head. "You are missing the point."
Raito gently touched him on the wrist as if to sooth him back into compliance, even going so far as to tug at his sleeve. "When did you become so uptight? It's hard to believe you're the same person I met in Japan."
L was drawn back to his previous spot, and Raito scooted closer to him, using that cajoling voice without restraint. "I lost my temper yesterday – I know, but you'll forgive, right. I've been a little… on edge lately because I've been having trouble falling asleep."
Slowly wearing him down, that was what Raito was currently doing; like a pride of hungry lions enclosing wounded prey and chasing it around for sport, before finally striking the killing blow.
L nudged him back by the shoulders when he began to come nearer. "You are only doing this because it irks you when someone does not give you your way. By not sleeping with you, I do not mean it as an insult," he clarified, making certain that Raito understood him in that point; Raito was most likely feeling hard to drop the suggestion because he had been the one to bring it up, and now that L was not agreeing, that probably offended him. "I simply think it would be best for us to keep unnecessary distractions out of our problems this time."
It was a two-sided sword that he was wielding against Raito. On one hand, denying Raito would make things less complicated for him and he would be more certain of his feelings and their sincerity, but on the other hand, denying Raito only made the brunette more persistent… which might not be a bad thing, considering that L would have loved this kind of enthusiasm when they had been together.
No one would think that Raito liked people playing hard to get with him, but he obviously found some excitement and annoyance in the prospect of possibly being denied. It was all very irritating to tell the truth, since L had been chasing him all this time and had nothing to show for it, and then when he finally relented, Raito was ready to jump him.
Raito leaned against his chest and L tried to scuttle backwards, but was brought up short by the arm behind him. "What are you so afraid of?" he purred and practically crawled on top of him.
"It is not fear, but my brain finally working." Catching him by a wrist, L was able to drag his hand away, but a second later, he was surprised by the other one as it began to rub his leg. Wide-eyed, but determined to go on, L cleared his throat and ignored the sensation.
"You will never take my feelings seriously if we begin to have casual sex, so there will be none of that tonight." Then he remembered himself. "I mean, there will be none of that ever." L slapped Raito's hand away, but the brunette was hardly discouraged. He even chuckled when L did it again, appearing to find amusement in his displeasure.
"Don't kid yourself, I'm not going to take you anymore seriously if you pretend to be chaste either."
"I can live with that," L said firmly and began to push at his shoulders. "Now get off my lap. You're heavy and you're cutting off the circulation to my legs."
It looked like he was backing off, and L was relieved for the small respite. However, as Raito shifted, L realized with a start where the brunette was now concentrating most of his weight, and with a renewed sense of haste, he pushed at his shoulders more urgently.
He unintentionally shoved him harder than he should have and Raito ended up flat on his back.
"I didn't mean to do that," he hastily swore, concern for his wounds causing him to lean in, uncaring for how easily that put him in Raito's clutches. "Are you –" L felt his words lodge in his throat as it finally dawned on him how very close they were. So close that he could see how rich the color of his eyes were now that daylight was absent -- a dark molten brown color that shone eerily in lamplight.
With the curtains drawn back all the way, a large white and cold moon glowed sumptuously in the background. The shadows cast from the light shifting over Raito's aloof countenance and sharpening his features; the thin lips more defined and the sweep of dark eyelashes even more pronounced.
Night seemed to suffuse right down into his being, all the way to the wildness of hair as the longer strands at the front fell away from his forehead untidily, the moon playing the same revolving trick that sunlight would produce to make his hair look almost blond -- the silken wisps now almost black.
L found himself unknowingly stroking a lock of that hair between his fingers.
"Has anyone ever been able to accurately describe to you how absolutely perfect looking you are?" L asked with utter seriousness, because it still disturbed and amazed him how flawless the outside was when everything inside was so twisted. "Because they would never be able to do that face justice."
Raito smirked. "I find it really telling when you start to sweet talk me."
"Yes… it's very telling," L agreed distractedly, mouth hovering over the place where Raito's upper lip dipped down to join the bottom, those thin lips parting slightly whenever L drifted closer than he should have.
Being so physically drawn to a person that it seemed like madness brought upon by the moon, L would have thought it impossible if someone had told him several months earlier that he would be in this position. He would have probably asked Watari to take them out.
He knew it was foolish – what he was doing. Like fighting the inevitable when it was already upon him. But it was so easy to forget all the wrongs they had done to each other. When he simply gazed at Raito and nothing else, it was all so easy to forget.
He still believed casual sex would not help their situation, but those words Raito had spoken earlier, "It's hard to believe you're the same person I met in Japan," they made him wish he could go back to that time, when he was simply fascinated and suspicious of Raito, and he never cared whether this person liked him in return. When he had sex with him because he simply felt like it and he wanted to get a glimpse at the person behind the mask. When did his reasons for wanting to be with Raito become so convoluted. He'd wanted to investigate his suspect, he'd wanted to have fun while he was at it too, because working on a case was the only thing he enjoyed, and Raito had shared that sentiment, that casual work ethic -- he still did, apparently.
"I do not know whether to kick you out of my room or kiss you." L cupped his chin solidly, thumb now tracing a path across his lips that his own mouth was dying in earnest to follow.
L tilted his head, stopped, leaned in and stopped again. He licked his lips as an afterthought, feeling strangely anxious and finding it absurd. He swallowed his nerve, but sensing that he was not going to be able to stop once he started, he ended up only getting as far as his cheek.
Underneath him, Raito made an exasperated sound and finally broke his languor as he abruptly turned and caught up to the mouth that had eluded him thus far.
L sort of seized up, unknowingly holding his breath for the first tense seconds – before he exhaled in a shudder and his body went slack. He slowly lowered himself on Raito, finding with each passing second they kissed that his arms were growing weaker, and unable to fight gravity, he pushed Raito into the mattress, thoroughly enjoying the slow and engaging way his mouth moved in time with and yielded to his own.
"Don't press down too hard -- my back," Raito murmured into his mouth.
Remembering himself, L eased up considerably onto his arms. He trailed away to the underside of Raito's jaw, his mouth only grazing the skin. "I'll kick you out later," he said, but the promise in his voice was made trifle by the way he went about laying kisses on his throat, one at a time and as tenderly as possible.
Raito exhaled slowly, determinedly. "Are you really now?"
L raised his head. It was truly bothersome how Raito could read his mind sometimes.
"No, it probably won't happen anytime tonight." L undid the first two buttons on his shirt, parting the collar and exposing more of his chest. "I do not know why you enjoy toying with me so much. You were probably a whore in your last life."
Raito scoffed at that. "Then what does that say about you since you're always after me for it."
L lowered his head and looked away, gazing out the window.
"I was probably your number one paying customer."
A/n: A major theme in deathnote is obviously rivals. The first arc being all about the "Raito vs. L" However the second arc, as much as it centers on "Raito vs. Near" Near's one true rival, in my opinion, was always Mello. When you think about it, the "Raito vs. L" and the "Mello vs. Near" rivalries are very similiar to one another. It's almost like Raito and L one generation down. That idea kills me.
1. The word "lunacy" stems from the word for moon or "luna," because, if I remember correctly, it was once believed that on nights when a full moon was out, people were more open to act on criminal behavior, or deviate from their normal behavior. It was believed that the full moon had a certain dangerous effect on people. But I think the myth stemmed from the fact that back then, way before electricity was introduced, criminals and/or those with mental health disorders simply found it more convenient to come out on moonlit nights; for one, they had the cover of darkness to aid them in their crimes, but more importantly, they could actually see to commit them.