"I don't believe it," Mello said and sounded like he was trying very hard at the moment to convince himself of the ridiculousness of this situation, and succeeding by sheer will alone. "It's impossible."
L having sex with someone? For all they knew he was asexual and not capable of feeling those things.
It would fit the image Mello had in his head of his mentor all these years: alone and indifferent to those around him, L seemed above silly distractions that others – including himself – had endlessly fallen victim to over the years. To think that L was also susceptible to such feelings, that he had wants like that… made Mello feel uncomfortable. It took away from the detective's image as untouchable, made him into a normal man, and Mello was not ready to see L in a different, more humanizing light.
Thus the idea of L having sex with someone – and a bastard like Kiyoshi at that – was deemed impossible to him. It was just… impossible.
"So why are you breaking into his room?" Near asked dryly beside him, curling a finger in his hair.
"To prove you wrong," Mello replied defensively and the sound of the door unlocking punctuated his sentence. "If he's sleeping with him" and he highly doubted that "then we'll find evidence." Mello then opened the door and made a motion for Near to get in, enlightening him at the same time: "Don't think I'm doing your dirty work while you play with your toys a safe distance away. If I'm caught here" he promised, "then you're going down with me."
He made the gesture again. "Now hurry up – L's having breakfast right now, so we should have enough time, but I don't want to take that chance." When he saw that the white-haired boy was not doing as told, he shoved him inside. He'd physically dragged Near all the way over here during morning classes without a second thought, a little shove wasn't going to be a problem for him.
Once he walked in behind Near, Mello became intensely aware of his own body and the fact that he was currently standing in L's room -- a place that none of them had ever actually seen before.
Everyone knew that L stayed here whenever he came to visit, so by now it had been assumed that this had always been L's room, even when he was an orphan himself.
The casual way L dropped by their rooms never gave any of them the impression that he was a secretive person, but they all knew that his own room was well off-limits. That space was his and his alone, and he probably did not appreciate anyone intruding upon it, however non-threatening they may be.
L's will was the same as the Institution. It was the foundation of their existence here, infallible, unquestionable, rising above such things as right and wrong -- so to break into his room like this could very well be considered a form of blasphemy for any child that lived within these walls. Mello was not one to care about the unsaid rules at the Institution, but if he found nothing here today then he would find some way to make it up to L without revealing what had transpired. It was the least he could do.
Near had already begun to look around. He had noticed upon entering that the room smelled faintly of cologne, but as he neared the bed, that faint smell grew stronger, richer… Both of them knew L never wore cologne, but what was worse, Near had immediately recognized the scent, as he had been in the company of its owner long enough for it to become familiar.
Things were not exactly looking up, but they continued to search nonetheless. Near was currently on the last drawer of the bureau propped against the closet wall, his searching made effortless by the utter lack of clothes in them. Surprisingly, L was still living out of his luggage, but then again that was probably more comfortable for a person that travelled as widely as he did.
Done with the last drawer, Near made to close it, but heard something knock against the back. He assumed it was due to the drawer being old and having a tendency to stick—it was hardly worth his time to investigate…
But for some reason he reached behind and felt around the back anyway. Something cool brushed up against his fingers, and grabbing it, Near pulled it out into the open.
It was a… watch.
He'd didn't think L wore watches, but even if he did, why would he keep a broken one?
The glass was cracked and it was obvious from where the hands had stopped that the mechanism no longer worked. Sweeping his thumb over the face, the crack running through the center, he noted that the hands had stopped on eleven sharp. There was also a date feature below the fulcrum, the small square reading 1/1.
Despite the cracks, the watch looked new and expensive, so for it to break on the first day of the year seemed like a bad sign, Near thought, half-serious.
Looking it over, Near saw no reason to share this discovery with Mello and he lowered himself to the floor to put the watch back where he found it. However, a knock at the door interrupted him and he dropped the watch.
"He's already finished?" Exiting the bathroom Mello trotted past him, instantly heeding the knock, their designated signal that L had left the kitchen area.
Earlier, around the time Mello had gotten ahold of him, the blond had asked one of the boys he frequently played soccer with to act as look-out. It sounded like a euphemism coming from him, but ask was all Mello did.
As much as Mello was known to be a bully around the Institution, he also had a reputation for being strangely sincere. And as much as Wammy House frowned upon emotional honesty – as it discouraged them from becoming better liars and in effect less efficient copies of L – Mello had somehow managed to retain a small amount of his scruples since his arrival. Near suspected that this small amount, however, would be lost by the time they left the institute. He had in fact abandoned his long ago.
But for Mello to hold onto his values was not exactly a bad thing, not when it unconsciously made others feel that they could trust him. When he showed his emotions to those around him – not just the anger – it made him easier to accept, to empathize with. It was odd, but as much as he picked on the other children, he also had more friends than anyone else at the Institution.
But because Mello had a forceful personality, many of the children –who were also quite aggressive themselves – did not appreciate a peer trying to assert his will over their own. Everyone took it very seriously when Mello would decide to start a fight, but that only lasted as long as it took the blond to knock out whoever was pissing him off at the moment. Since Mello was indiscriminate with his terror, they all knew not to take it personally, which made it easier to get over when he started with one of them.
Near could not say the same for himself, as Mello personally had it out for him ever since the day they had been introduced.
"Did you find anything?" Mello had cracked the door open and was now peering out.
"No," he answered and waited for the blond to turn around.
"Then that settles it. I didn't find anything either. There was a bottle of lotion in the bathroom, but that's nothing to freak out over." Mello then said in an unexpectedly quiet voice, "Though I did find some bloody bandages in the bathroom and a bottle of tramadol in the cabinet. Do you think… L's injured?"
Near remained silent.
He had started to notice that whenever L stood, even if it was for a short time, he would imperceptibly lean towards his right, as if he was trying to spare his left leg the weight. Near had concluded after numerous instances of this odd slumping – even for him – that L had been injured in the left leg. How exactly it had happened was anyone's guess, but Near had a sinking feeling that it had something to do with Kira.
To think that this person could get close enough to L to inflict bodily harm on him, Near had to wonder what kind of person L had been chasing after for these two years. What kind of monster had he put away?
Brought back to the present by the sound of the door clicking shut again, Near watched as Mello headed to the other side of the room.
"To be safe let's use the window; I don't want to run into L in the hallway – I can't lie to him."
Pragmatic as that suggestion was, Near did not move an inch when Mello opened the window and started to climb out.
"Do you want to get caught?" he asked and then lowered himself back to the floor. "There's nothing in this room. We could search Kiyoshi's next, but I doubt he'll have anything either."
Mello's train of thought was understandable. He had broken into Kiyoshi's room before, and the fact that he had found no questionable items during that time meant either the brunette was good at hiding them away or there was nothing to hide. Whatever the case, they would not find anything in Kiyoshi's room. L, on the other hand, would not expect anyone to search through his things – the implicit censure awaiting any child reason enough to stay away – so there was a chance that he would see no reason to go all out in hiding any traces of his sex-life from this room.
But none of that really had anything to do with Near's inability to follow Mello out the window. If he had to explain his reasoning behind it in ten words or less, he would say that he was "attempting to avoid an untimely demise." Near was not the most athletic person. His daily activities included hours of sitting and possibly some spent lying down, followed by longer periods of more sitting. If he climbed out that window there was a good chance that he would fall off the roof and break his neck. He did not possess the same cat-like reflexes that enabled Mello to scale down the side of the orphanage unscathed every time he felt like sneaking into town.
"I won't push you off," Mello conceded innocently, misinterpreting the issue at hand. Then he changed his tune when he found that Near would not budge. "C'mon, L's going to be here any minute. I don't have a problem leaving you if you're going to be like this."
"You realize that this search means nothing," Near suddenly voiced.
"What the hell –" recognizing that he had lost his temper for a split second, Mello tried to rein it back in. "Why are you still going on about this?"
"Because I don't think it would matter even if we did find condoms or lube in this room," he told him bluntly. It could just as well mean L was sleeping with Minako. Near hated to say this, but unless they saw it for themselves, they would not be able to ascertain anything.
"Dammit," Mello cursed and no longer cared about losing his temper. He grabbed onto Near's shirt to pull him along, but froze when he heard the boards outside creaking, signaling that someone was walking down the hallway.
Changing course at the last second, he yanked Near towards the closet, the only place that L hopefully would have no business with, due to his clothes residing elsewhere. They wouldn't have time to escape through the window now, so that left them with no choice but to seek refuge -- a fate that Mello was none too happy about, even when Near made a comment that took into consideration their environment and he thought might lessen the stifling atmosphere as they crouched and waited in silence.
"I'll give you seven minutes of heaven," Mello responded in a threatening manner, turning his comment back on him and not appearing in the least to appreciate his attempt at talking to him, the creaking of his knuckles in the darkness further confirming this opinion.
Raito closed the door behind him quietly, but one glance towards the empty bed told him L had gone off to breakfast. He was disappointed that he couldn't be the one to wake the detective, as that usually had its perks, but maybe it was best to not distract himself this early in the morning. Moreover, since he was going into town to pick up a few things for Roger, and L was always bugging him about his purchases when he returned (why laundry detergent and no cake?), he had thought he would simply ask L what he wanted now to forgo having to tell him to "shut up" later.
And as Raito turned around to leave and do just that, a flicker of silver caught his attention. He stopped, his sight converging on the object of his interest like a hawk did with its prey. That curiosity of his was acting up again (the one that always got him in trouble), and so in an attempt to heed that self-warning, he turned towards the door.
But Raito had always known that once something caught his interest, it was nigh impossible for him to leave it alone. He supposed that curiosity and the desire to investigate were both inherent traits of any great detective; he also supposed that they were the same traits that put him in this mess with L in the first place.
Sighing, and unwilling to fight his nature, Raito found himself wondering over to bureau before he could stop himself. He bent down, tentatively picking up the object -- like that hesitation would redeem him of the act -- and recognition spread through him as the weight of it settled in his palm.
This was… his brow furrowed. What was L doing with this?
Before that thought could go anywhere, the door had suddenly opened.
Raito turned towards it on a reflex. L noticed him there, but he didn't seem to mind that he had come in without permission. That was, until he spotted what was in his hand, the lax expression tensing and going alert.
L made a beeline for him and Raito stiffened and felt his arms gravitate towards his body, his fingers tightening around the watch, but his body language unable to stop L from snatching it away -- and so defensively at that.
"I…" disquieted by the mood that L had brought with him into the room, Raito found his mouth opening and no sound coming out. He tried again, his eyes lowering. "I… thought you would have thrown this away…"
L said nothing and suddenly shoved it into his pocket, obviously disgruntled. "I gave you the key to my room because I did not think you would search through my things."
Raito raised his head, startled. "Of course I wouldn't," he denied.
"I have memorized all your past excuses, so there is a 100 percent chance that this new one will not work on me either."
Raito felt all the need to defend himself fall quickly away—L's oh so subtle way of putting things turning his mood. "Don't be a paranoid ass," he told him flatly. "Why would I search through your belongings? I only came in here to see whether you wanted anything from the store."
"Then why did I find you with this?" L accused. "Admit it; I have caught you with your hand in the cookie jar."
Raito sighed, thinking that L was more likely than him to be caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "It was on the floor when I got here," he explained. "Besides, if you didn't want me to find it, then hide it away properly," he retaliated.
"You are going to use that excuse – that it suddenly appeared before you." L stared at him blandly. "Then again, things do mysteriously materialize in front of you, like notebooks, shinigami, the occasional dead person…"
"Shut up, it's not an excuse!" Raito exploded, embarrassed that L was making fun of the way he acquired the deathnote and everything after that.
Meanwhile in the closet, Near and Mello were attentively listening to the argument, grateful that the two outside were so quick to blame each other when things went wrong that they couldn't even fathom another party responsible. It certainly shifted the blame away from them. But as to what the pair outside were arguing about, L especially with that last statement, they had no idea. The older man perhaps referring to an inside joke, but then again perhaps not – the painkillers in the bathroom did not necessarily have to belong to L, and tramadol was an opiate, weaker than morphine and less addictive, but you could never guess how these things affected some people.
Raito shook his head, annoyed, but still trying to regain his composure. "That's not even the point here," he said. "The point is…" for a second there he didn't even look like he knew what the point was either, "…you gave that watch to me for Christmas. Do I need an excuse to pick it up?"
"You are mistaken; this is not the same one," L said, huffy.
Raito rolled his eyes. The reason for L's sudden moodiness had nothing to do with a breach in privacy and everything to do with him coming across this watch. "Don't lie to me," he said and found himself calming down, for what reason he had no idea because L was being a total asshat about this. "You think I'd be able to forget. I'm only surprised that you kept it all this time without telling me." With the way things were after his incarceration, he would have thought L had immediately gotten rid of anything that reminded him of Raito.
He saw L touch a hand to the outside of his pocket. "It was a gift," he said, still moody. "I could not possibly throw it away, because it did not belong to me."
Then why hadn't he returned it if he felt the decision ultimately lay with him? All these months had passed with him even confessing his so-called love, and out of all that time, L couldn't sit him down and return the watch. To him it looked like L had absolutely no intention of giving it back. To him it looked like he was simply going to keep it and not tell him anything about it. Raito eyed him carefully.
Was it because the previous owner of the watch had been Kira?
If that were the case then L really didn't want him to have anything to do with that part of himself. Even objects that the former might have possessed—they were totally out of the question for him. It didn't even matter that they were the same person, L had given that watch to Kira and with Kira it would stay, possibly as a symbol of his one failure in life, his ineptitude with people, his unrequited feelings, his hate for an enemy that had not died, but had only been reborn, one that he had to stare in the face everyday, reliving the triumphant smile of that cold January morning as he was shoved aside for the world.
By withholding that watch from him, L wanted to make a sharp distinction between the two. In his mind Raito didn't think L was treating them as separate people, all his barbs at him were proof of that, but at the same time L was making it clear which one he wanted to disappear, to be buried by the other. It was survival, Raito supposed. Kira and L were eternal enemies and L wanted to stand over Kira and know that he had defeated every lingering remnant of him. It was his vindication as L, the detective, and not as the man.
Like beasts fighting for the mountain, one had to be wiped out in order for the other to survive. That was simply how things went. It made him recall the last day of his time in Russia, when he had asked to keep the journal that belonged to his other self, the one that Kira had spent countless hours writing in for his sake, recording all his experiences, all his emotions, all his sadness and heartache for being captured, and then feeling that tremendous will to survive enveloping all those other emotions, Raito had not been able to part with it. He had always believed that the reason why L had not let him keep the journal in the end was because it posed a security risk, and that probably had something to do with it, but he couldn't dismiss the idea that L had burned the journal in front of him mainly to serve as a message:
Change back into Kira and this is what happens to you…
That watch (and possibly all the negative perceptions that went with it) belonged to Kira, and L was… in his own odd way… shielding him from that now, unwilling to let it tarnish the person he was becoming. L had named him Kiyoshi, after all. He could fling the irony in his face all he wanted, but Raito still felt that… L wanted him to have a new start, to be as pure-hearted a person as the name that he'd been given. Perhaps because to be this pure person would make it easier for him to get walked all over, but Raito could not deny that there was kindness in that name too. And even though he could not acknowledge L's feelings, he could acknowledge his kindness.
But L not wanting him to have the watch at this point was only going to backfire in his face, since it only made Raito want it even more. The detective should know how he worked by now, and indeed, L didn't even seem surprised when Raito stepped into his personal space and reached into his jeans.
Raito fished the watch out of his pocket and gazed down at it, noting the formidable crack at the center and how it had deformed the twelve at the top, so the two was blurred out and only the one remained, and for some reason emotion stirred within him, like the contents at the bottom of a glass that had settled with time were swirling back up again.
"So this must be the exact moment that Watari took me in," Raito commented wistfully as he caressed his thumb down the middle, distracted. He could feel L's gaze on him, silent but intense nonetheless, no doubt troubled that he was remarking on such a thing so casually. But how else was he supposed to bring it up? L was the only person that knew, but ironically the last person that he should have this conversation with. "I hadn't realized I'd broken it," he said, and maybe somewhere deep down, he was only partially referring to the watch.
"Raito…" L had that tone of voice that was supposed to be warning, but turned out more forlorn.
Raito? The inhabitants of the closet looked to each other. 'Was that his real name?' Near thought. It didn't sound like any Japanese name he'd ever heard before. And the pronunciation… wouldn't that be Light in English? Hmm, what a pretentious sounding name. Fit him perfectly.
As if in a trance, Raito continued to stare at the watch, morbidly fascinated with this thing that had once adorned the wrist of a so-called mass-murderer. He couldn't say he was appalled by his behavior. It was only natural to sympathize with yourself, to want to know more about the person that had been in your shoes, living your life. And Raito did want to know everything there was to know about his past self. He was hopelessly captivated by the fact that he was Kira and he had been a force of justice. Those thoughts felt surreal to him sometimes, but he was past the point of questioning and at the stage where he wanted to identify with his past self. Certainly they both had the same ideological standpoints, but to the him that was standing here, he wanted something that also existed in the present. Something tangible, that he could see with his own two eyes, that he could touch with his own two hands…
This watch was that for him. It was the physical connection that he had yearned for: cold, hard, and yet strangely fragile -- perfectly reflecting all the crushed hopes and dreams of his other self in the fraction of the face. This was his connection to Kira, and however simple and irrational it may be…
He did not want to part from it.
"I think… I want this. Let me have it, okay."
L gave him a strange look. "But it's broken."
Raito raised an eyebrow, amused that L had the nerve to say that to him when he'd been holding onto said broken watch for almost half a year because of simple attachment. "So? I still want it."
"I could have it fixed," L offered, but not out of any kindness, probably wanting to go over it with a fine-tooth comb before giving it back, though Raito would rather not let it bother him--L could do whatever he wanted, that wouldn't stop Raito from being himself either.
"No… I think I like it just the way it is," Raito answered, deliberately looking for trouble. He clicked the watch into place on his wrist, admiring the sable black of the interior and how even the broken glass had not diminished its shine. "You have good taste, by the way."
He glanced at L, who initially appeared unsure as to how to react to his sudden compliment, but quickly found his footing, and in more ways than one as he would be demonstrating a minute from now. "Yes," he agreed shamelessly, locking eyes with him. "I really do…"
Raito felt his mouth twitch, but stopped himself from encouraging L anymore. He should have left half an hour ago to do the shopping, so to be further sidetracked like this would be irresponsible—he really should be leaving now. "So is there anything you want?" Raito asked, changing the subject, however, as he was about to step forward, L's leg suddenly shot out, his foot connecting with the adjacent wall solidly and at the same time blocking his path to the door.
"Want?" L leaned into that leg, determined to not let him leave without the mandatory harassment.
It certainly didn't take long for him to return to his charming self, Raito thought sarcastically as he glanced down at the discourteous appendage and then up at its even more discourteous owner."Roger needs help with grocery shopping," he said by way of explanation. There were twenty something growing children in this orphanage and all of them needed to be fed on a regular basis -- or so he was told.
After L watched him for a bit, he nodded and then removed his foot, appearing more capable of handling his attitude than the many other times he had been wrong-footed. Maybe he was finally beginning to listen to Raito and act more like an adult. But then again maybe he was jumping to conclusions, Raito thought as he took a step towards the door and L's other leg suddenly shot forward this time, connecting with the wall and barring his path yet again.
"You get off on this, don't you?" he blandly commented, as getting in his way seemed to be one of detective's hobbies, and in response L smiled that cheeky little smile at him that drove him up the wall as much as it did into the nearest bed.
"Raito-kun must pay the toll or else I cannot allow him to pass."
Smirking at his so-called predicament, Raito touched a hand to L's forearm and began to stroke the skin under the thin material of his sleeve. "I don't remember there being such a rule for this door."
"That is because it was only implemented a minute ago," L explained and moved closer. "But a law is a law; do not break laws, Raito-kun, or else I will be forced to come after you."
Near could not say he liked where this conversation was going, and from the expression worn by the person next to him, neither did Mello.
The detective shuffled closer, feigning coyness and offering his cheek in order for him to get the hint; and when Raito, still smirking, leaned forward to pay the toll, L slyly turned his head at that exact moment--the kiss consequently ending up on his mouth and giving L the excuse to French him.
Raito, lingering there for a second longer than he should have, slipped his arms around L's neck and then let them hang from his shoulders when he was satisfied. "Does this mean I have free admission into here later?" he asked playfully, and leaning into L's chest he touched a finger to his chin, gently tipping it back and beginning to lay kisses on his throat.
L made a thoughtful noise bordering on content, his fingers now combing through the silk soft strands at the base of Raito's nape. "A kiss is a kiss," he answered. "It can only guarantee you one passing. Anything more and I would have to ask for a higher fee."
Intrigued, Raito raised his head from where it had been. "So would sex fulfill this higher fee requirement?"
L looked at the ceiling pensively, but from the way his hand was roaming around in the back of his shirt, Raito could tell nothing intellectual was going through his head at the moment. "Sex will guarantee you an open border day. However those privileges will only last until midnight that day, meaning that even if we were to finish copulating at 11:59 pm, once the clock strikes 12, you must renew your contract or I cannot let you pass."
Both Near and Mello froze as they heard their undisputable proof, and straight from L of all people.
"That's really convenient for you," Raito said around a grin, as the detective looked far too serious for him not to.
"All my rules are," L admitted and began to pull him away from the door by the waist. "Unless I benefit, I see no reason to have them at all."
Near heard Kiyoshi laugh and almost simultaneously gasp at what he supposed would be L's doing; everything going silent on the other side of the door except for a constant rustling sound and interspersed chuckling that was mostly coming from the brunette, but which L contributed to with his distinctively low murmur of a voice.
"Don't bite…"
"But what about -- here?"
"Not there either."
"So then… here?"
Near heard the brunette let out an inelegant laugh (probably a reaction to the biting) and Near could not help but stare at the closet door in distaste. In that short amount of time he had actually found himself missing the stupid arguments that both men could fall into at the drop of a hat -- at least they spared him and anyone else in the vicinity from listening to these two flirting and giggling over each other. Even the death march across the roof would have been preferable to this.
Raito, roughly pulling up against L by the belt-loops, finally got the occupied detective to stop biting along his shoulder and face him, those dark eyes catching sight of his hands as they roved upwards and began to remove him of his white t-shirt, their practiced motions already relegating it to the floor behind them and unzipping his jeans.
Not one to fall behind, and with his own plans in mind, L drove Raito back into the bathroom and pushed him down on the counter, forestalling his progress and also sending everything breakable to the floor.
Near heard glass shattering: the two outside undoubtedly crashing about like a bull in a china shop. No wonder L's room looked the way it did. If this was a daily occurrence then Near was only surprised that no one had gotten hurt yet. Though now that he thought about it, maybe this was the reason for L's leg injury… Well whatever the case may be, it did not change the fact that by the sounds of it, these two were clearly out of control.
When Raito tried to sit up, L shoved him down again, and in response the brunette shoved him right back and harder, a reaction that would have made anyone lose their nerve to continue, but only spurred L on.
Grabbing him by the leg, L pulled him to the edge of the counter and flush against his chest, his mouth there to meet him and tongue already wanting inside. Raito tilted his head to the side and at the same time took hold of the back of L's head, kissing him hard while L yanked his jeans off in jerky movements, his motions growing more and more aggressive as he pulled the waist down past Raito's knees, the always close fit making it so L was tussling with it to the end and shifting him around against the mirror.
With Raito's pants and underwear now on the floor, the detective riffled through the cabinet, searching for the lotion and discovering it close to empty when he picked it up. But not one to let that stop him, L poured the rest out into his hand, and pressing two fingers inside, he began to work them back and forth through the ring of muscle: slowly, firmly, and beyond meticulous. That touch gradually spreading Raito and causing his breath to hitch every so often.
"I hope I'm not hurting you," L told him, suddenly diverting all the energy in the room with that serious face of his. "I can always use my tongue to loosen you up fur--"
"It's okay," Raito interrupted with a strained voice, though the reason behind it had nothing to do with pain and more to do with L and his kinks.
"It's no trouble at all," L insisted and even started to descend. But Raito, startled, grabbed him by the head before he could try anything funny. It wasn't that Raito was averse to oral. On the contrary, he was usually the one eagerly pushing L down there. The trouble with today, however, was their location: they weren't above the library, fooling around in L's office where the walls were all sound-proof.
Anything besides oral sex and Raito was confident he would be able to manage his voice, but if L started to suck him off here—and with that ungodly mouth of his—then he was positive it would not take long for everyone in the house to realize what he and L were up to.
Plus he wouldn't be able to make it out of here the most cognizant human being if he let L do as he pleased. And since he had errands to run, having L do that to him and unable to crash on his bed afterwards was going to be pure torture.
"I'd rather not," Raito refused.
"But I really do insist."
"What about 'I'd rather not' don't you understand?"
The smile that followed that sharp remark made one of the corners of L's mouth stretch deviously upward, much more than what he would have guessed a leer from L would look like. It was downright creepy and yet Raito found his breath quickening.
"When you take that stubborn tone with me, I find myself not wanting to give you what you want."
Raito lowered his eyes and smiled coyly, and then suddenly plowed his foot into L's midsection and sent him back peddling out of the bathroom with the momentum. "That's funny, because I feel exactly the same way," he stated as he slid off the counter, strolled out of the bathroom and jumped L without warning.
Both occupants of the closet heard a loud thud right outside the door and Mello inhaled in surprise at the sudden proximity.
Righting himself on top of L, Raito smirked down at the detective, ready to claim his prize. L, however, wasn't responding to any of his advance as usual and actually appeared distracted; he was in fact glancing around the room.
"Raito-kun… did you hear that?"
Mello gave him a wide-eyed look and Near could not help but do the same: how in the world was L able to pick up on something so small?
"Hear what?" Raito asked and joined him in searching around the room.
"I swore I heard a voice…"
Both Mello and Near froze, and as an afterthought, Near placed his hand over Mello's mouth. Surprisingly, the blond did not push his hand away and actually covered it with his own, pressing it down as hard as he could to hold in whatever panicked sound wanted to come out.
"I doubt it was anything," Raito said and leaned forward on the arms braced against L's chest, bringing himself as close as possible to serve as a reminder. "Now can you please return your attention back to me?"
L's head rolled back to face front, those dark eyes following suit.
"There is not a moment that passes by that you do not occupy my thoughts."
Raito chuckled, thinking that L was the only human on the planet that could say such sappy things and actually expect them to work. "I doubt that applies to anything above my neck," Raito said and shifted backwards to demonstrate, feeling L go stiff as his erection pressed up against the inside of his thigh.
"Well," L said, voice suddenly very hoarse, "I cannot deny that Raito-kun's ass is much more forgiving than the person it is attached to."
"I plan to hold you to those words," Raito cautioned.
"Then please do your worse."
Raito smirked at him in challenge, "Don't say I didn't warn you," and didn't even give L the chance to take another breath before he grabbed his member, rubbing the tip against his entrance and at the same time beginning to press down on it in increments.
For good measure Raito slapped a hand over L's mouth—a necessity if they were going to remain undiscovered—and pushed down on the final inch, enjoying the way L involuntarily pounded his hand against the floor, as if to call for a time out.
He settled himself on top of L again—no longer partial to hover and craving more of the control he could gain from that position—and the stretch as he did so went further than what he was comfortable with. A throbbing ache near his tailbone made him swivel his hips and grind down on L in an effort to ease that discomfort, but his movements only spread that feeling further along the cleft of his ass.
Well, anal sex was a lot of trial and error, but he couldn't say the shallow pain was a totally unwelcomed sensation. It would surely give him something to focus on when they started and keep him levelheaded throughout, or enough to walk out of here when they were finished.
It was too much, however, to ask the same of the person under him, as L was already gone on the feeling of having his dick in all the way. He was struggling under the hand clamped over his mouth, those muffled groans that Raito was so fond of escaping through every so often as he continued to adjust himself on L. But at the moment Raito cared little if the person under him was equally adjusted and began to move, rocking back and forth, gently at first, but his movements acquiring a degree of force as he rode him, not much faster, but definitely harder.
"Mmph!" L swallowed thickly, his breath coming out hot and moist against the palm clamped over his mouth, and hands in the middle of navigating his body--between his legs, up his waist, and then back down to clutch his hips when Raito began to move faster, the detective attempting to control some of that ride. Both of his hands faltered there and one transferred to the hand over his mouth, gripping his wrist in a bruising hold and peeling that hand away so he could speak.
"Not so fast… I am already—" startled by pleasure, L suddenly groaned and fell back as Raito unsympathetically increased his pace, working him so hard that he could not even start to catch his breath, Raito's relentless forward motions pushing against his diaphragm and trapping any air in his lungs that he could use.
L was positive that he was going to asphyxiate if he wasn't given the chance to breathe in the next minute, but his body wouldn't allow him to stop, shamelessly demanding death if it meant he could come; and to not be allowed to when he was so fiercely hard, L was certain it would feel the same.
"Raito… oh god…" L moaned and realized belatedly that using those two utterances in the same sentence was just going to encourage the person above him; that messiah complex of his tied to his sexual gratification as deeply as it was to his pride. Most of the time L was convinced that they were one and the same.
So he had no one to blame (and thank) but himself when Raito shoved his hips down on his length without mercy and got him to come in two second flat. L was reacquainted with Raito's hand again long enough for him to stifle any shout and affectionate words that always happened to fall out of his mouth at this time, his own mental release as it were, which was always worse than the physical one.
He felt Raito touching himself soon afterward, and wanting forever to finish him with his mouth L tried to overturn the brunette onto his back, but Raito didn't appear to want to hand over control today, and lodging his forearm under his neck to keep L in place, he continued to pleasure himself, completely unremorseful for denying L as he finally shuddered and finished into the shirt that the detective had forgotten to take off him.
Resting on him for a bit, Raito sat up slowly and shook the hair out of his face. "Fun?" he murmured as he slid off L and knelt over his torso.
"Too much fun," L breathed out heavily and remained lying down, his arms somewhere above his head. "Fortunately I am not a virgin, because if I were that would have ruined me for the rest of my life."
"Then that just means I have something to work towards," Raito retorted and rose to his feet, though a tad unsteadily, his hand pressing against the inside of his leg and feeling wetness. "But it doesn't look like I was as fortunate as you this time. I'm actually feeling a little ruined—give me a hand, would you?"
"Only a hand? If Raito-kun demanded it, I would gladly give him both. I would also give him my balanced but at times misrepresented opinions, my boyhood heart, and possibly a foot."
Raito stared at him for a while before indifferently turning away and walking towards the bathroom.
"Actually—I change my mind. Just stay right there and don't come near me for the rest of the day."
"And as a fellow man," L called behind him, "Raito-kun should know that the harder he resists me, the more I will chase after him."
"So? I'm not running anywhere," Raito tossed out and the shirt sliding off his back was the last thing L saw before he disappeared behind the bathroom door.
"And that may be my problem," L said to himself as he heard the shower start.
He acknowledged that what he was doing with Raito was wrong in so many ways for so many reasons. But there was something to be said about not taking yourself too seriously and he was starting to see a sort of sick humor in his predicament
He should have been horrified at how easy it was to carry on these flings with Raito, more to the point, the casualness of it all seemed so very wrong. He knew that, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but that knowledge did not stop him from wanting this person with everything he had.
It also did not help that the object of his desire was being sweeter to him than usual. L had his suspicions, as Raito was only this nice when he wanted something. But L would not let that ruin his downtime and he certainly would not let it stop him from milking this situation for everything it was worth. Not when he felt perfectly secure in his ability to tell Raito "no" when it mattered.
"Do you have anything I could borrow?" he heard before Raito exited the bathroom, his shirt laying ruined on the tile floor the cause for his sudden interest in the detective's clothing.
L rolled to the side to catch a glimpse of Raito as the brunette bent down next to his luggage. "Check the bottom," he said and again made no moves to sit up.
Raito dug around until he found what L had been referring to, a few long-sleeved button-ups that he recognized as the dress shirts L had worn during their visits to Lourdes Cathedral. They were all starched and as white as if none had ever been run through a wash cycle, and in fact, Raito found two still folded neatly in store tissue paper. He recalled when Watari had brought them to the room and how there had been five to the set, but now there was one missing and he assumed it was from that day.
Slipping one of the shirts on, Raito buttoned it up as he walked back the way he came, nudging L's head with his foot in passing. "Do you want to come into town with me?" he asked and thought it would be good to have an extra pair of helping hands, no matter how useless they would turn out to be.
L finally sat up, but he didn't make any additional moves other than rotating his neck this way and that, the joints popping loudly and L rubbing that spot. He eventually got to his feet, adjusting his jeans back on his hips and zipping them up as he tottered over to his bed.
By all that Raito assumed his answer was an emphatic "no", but if there were any doubts left, L then rolled onto his side, nestled into the mattress, and yawned.
"Can you bring back a box of chocolates? I have a sudden craving for them, especially the ones with the praline and caramel fillings. That would be nice," L drawled with his eyes closed, looking like he was ready to doze off. Raito knew L wasn't the type to take enjoyment from sleep, only resting the barest minimum of hours required for him to properly function, but that attitude didn't seem to apply to all those post-coital naps that the detective was very fond of taking.
"Is something wrong?" L asked, peeking an eye open when he did not move.
"No," he answered simply, though he wasn't so sure now.
"Then go get me my chocolate," L said and suddenly slapped him in the ass, which startled Raito to the point of him jumping a bit. He grimaced at that reaction and then turned to stare at the detective as he nestled back into his bed, looking suddenly very pleased with himself.
"Also, do not forget to bring the tea-tray when you return—you are the light of my lif—"
The door slamming startled Near and Mello, but they couldn't say it was unexpected. Actually what surprised them was what followed in the silence of Kiyoshi's departure: L chuckling lowly, sounding rather pleased with himself for causing that reaction out of the brunette.
Well, L seemed to be enjoying himself, too bad he and Mello could not say the same about their experience here. Both had gone a shade paler since things had started, and by the end of it, Near had all but thanked god that he didn't have visuals to go with the audio, because even that alone was making it difficult to not come out of the closet—this was no time for jokes—and take a flying leap out the nearest window from sheer embarrassment. This was exactly what Near had wanted to avoid when he had gone to Mello, hoping that he would take care of the spying for him, or something along these lines anyway.
It wasn't like Near could not understand L having a sex life, but when that sex life started interfering with their competition what was he supposed to do? L should know better than this. But then again Near could not underestimate the sexual drive of any adult. Sex made them do stupid things and L was apparently not exempt from the above category.
Staring at the person across from him, Near could only hope that if his brain was to ever relinquish control of itself over to his penis that someone benevolent would step in and just as benevolently put him out of his misery. Mello noticed his staring and began to nod towards the door, signaling that he wanted to leave. But Near shook his head in reply. They couldn't chance it, not when L was like a Doberman on caffeine. He would hear them as soon as they opened the door, much less started to stand. Things were quiet outside, but that didn't mean L had fallen asleep.
Mello pointed at the door again, this time more forcefully, the blond still several shades of white and carrying with him a desire to leave that rivaled logic. Well, Mello had always been closer to L than he had, so he was obviously going to take this much harder.
Near shook his head again, hoping that Mello would calm down, but the blond was already standing within the cramped darkness, pressing his hand to the closet door and leaning more of his weight into his fingertips as the seconds went by.
Near was certain that any second now, L would awaken to see both of them trying to sneak out of his closet. And Near was also equally certain that when L caught them in the closet, he would not buy the excuse that they were in here searching for the boogey-man, ready to bring him to justice. Though he might give them points for trying.
The closet door didn't creak when it opened and Mello slipped out rather soundlessly, L yet to stir. Near stood as well and exited, but to his amazement L was still deep in sleep, the soft breathing sounds coming from his side of the room proof of that. The detective had his back to them, and seeing his chance, Near turned to leave and unintentionally caught Mello glancing over at L, the blond suddenly going red in the face and turning away just as quickly.
"…"
Near fixed the back of Mello's head with a searching gaze. L was sleeping without a shirt, but that wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. Everyone in this room was male and Near could hardly call the person in front of him modest, not when Mello had once jumped up on the railing overlooking the staircase and walked the entire length of it in only a towel simply on a dare. Even when everyone downstairs had been able to see right up said towel, Mello had only laughed and continued.
So if it wasn't modesty that made Mello blush now, then what exactly was it? Near thought about it and then quickly sidestepped that question like he did with many things concerning the blond. That was only going to make his life more complicated than it should be.
As Near stepped out of L's room, he noticed that Matt was leaning up against the wall two doors down from them and appearing to have taken over watchman duties from the previous lookout. Obviously Mello was still keeping him out of the loop, but for the redhead that apparently hadn't been enough to kill his interest in the matter. If anything, it had probably made it worse.
Mello was not one to keep secrets from Matt. Within reason, the redhead most likely knew everything there was to know about him and visa versa. So for Mello to remain tight-lipped, there had to be a significant reason behind it; and by the uncharacteristic gravity of his face, Matt was here to find out.
Though his expression quickly changed into concern and a bit of confusion when Mello came closer and he noticed how pale the blond looked. He opened his mouth to remark on this, but Matt was again left bewildered as Mello walked right up to him and then right into his arms.
"I just don't get it," Mello suddenly confessed and at the same time was gripping him by the material of his shirtsleeve, his knuckles white as paper.
Matt didn't get it either, but he thought that was only natural since he hadn't been in on it to begin with. "Mello?"
"It's worse than I thought," Mello continued to lament whilst scaring the bejebus out of Matt, who was not used to hearing the blond carry on like this. "It's… just not fair."
Huh?! Matt turned to look to Near for an explanation, but the white-haired boy was already rounding the corner, appearing deep in thought. His attention was brought back to Mello when he began to push away, and it stayed with him as he started off in the other direction to, Matt assumed, sort out his head.
Clearly something had happened in L's room; yet no one was making any moves to fill him in.
What the hell was going on?
Helplessly, Matt started to follow after Mello, but knowing that he could get no answers from the blond, he turned around and went the other way.
Luckily for him Near was as slow as ever, so he caught up to him in no time, the white-haired boy just about to the open the door to his room when he arrived.
"Hey Near, can I ask you a question?" he called out, and to his annoyance that didn't even stop the white-haired boy from going for his door.
This guy was so unsociable.
Though it wasn't like he could talk.
Seeing that Near had no intention of giving him the time of day, Matt grabbed the handle and pulled the door close right in his face. "I said 'can I ask you a question?'" he repeated.
Near stared at the closed door and then coldly turned towards him. "You can ask, but it doesn't mean I'll answer."
Fortunately for everyone concerned, Matt was blessed with an indifference that could rival the person across from him. That meant that unlike Mello, who would have cursed Near six ways to Sunday by now, he couldn't give a rat's ass about anything Near said to him, even if he tried.
"That's okay," Matt responded. "It has nothing to do with you anyway. All I want to know is what has Mello so freaked out."
Near gave him a blank look. "Why don't you go ask him yourself?"
"He won't tell me."
"Then I have nothing to say either."
Near went to go open his door, but Matt pulled it close again.
"Why? It's a simple question."
"Simple enough that I still don't have your answer," Near retorted.
Matt looked at Near carefully. What was up with all the attitude he was giving him? Near didn't usually bug him, but today was fast becoming the exception.
"Hey Near," Matt said and didn't even try to stop the other boy from reaching for the door handle again, "I don't want to do this because it's really none of my business, but if you don't tell me what's going on, I'll tell Mello you have a crush on him."
Near's hand stopped in front of the doorknob.
"Then I'll tell him the same about you."
Matt scratched behind his head and saw no way around this. "I uh already…kind of beat you to it." The first time Matt had seen Mello, he had jumped to the conclusion that the blond was a girl. He wasn't a very social person, but even at a young age Matt had always made an exception for girls. It was natural for him, he supposed, since he had never joined the other boys in recess—sports was never his thing—and so when the caretaker went to supervise the boys and girls outside, that had left young Matt in a room full of older girls who were considerate enough to include him in their space, even if it was to silently play his gameboy. It was probably the reason why Matt developed crushes on girls so easily and at an age where that kind of thinking was unpopular.
So after seeing Mello once and thinking that the blond was pretty in an odd way (because that was usually how it started with him), he had stolen something off the blond in order to get "her" attention. Then when Mello had come after him, he'd taken that time to introduce himself and blurt out that he had a crush on what he had deemed a girl with a really bad case of tomboy.
What young Matt didn't know at the time was he had just inadvertently picked a fight with the wrong person. And so several punches to the face later, Mello had enlightened him to the fact that he was indeed a boy, even lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Then after everything had sunk in, the blond had turned around and laughed at him in that mean way he had, even calling him a dork while he was at it and never thinking to spare his feelings for one moment.
To this day Matt was still uncertain as to why he and Mello were best friends. Any normal person would have avoided him after something like that, but he supposed after beating him within an inch of his young life, Mello had called things even.
Matt, on the other hand, had had a harder time getting over said incident, even trying to avoid Mello for a time; but he'd had to call that quits after a few run-ins with the blond and the realization that he wasn't so bad, even strangely friendly. It also didn't hurt that Mello had a thing for First-person shooters.
However, that still didn't explain why they had grown so close in two years—Matt hoped it had something to do with Mello maybe liking him back, but he dared not try to confess again because this time ignorance wouldn't be there to save him if things back-fired.
"He beat me up when I told him," Matt said curtly, and didn't think that was a consequence solely exclusive to redheads. He was confident Mello would sucker-punch any boy (and sadly any girl) that challenged his position on top of the Wammy House food chain, i.e. insulting his masculinity by having a crush on him. Near definitely would be no exception to this rule if Mello found out.
Then to drive the point home. "You see this tooth," Matt pointed at the spot where a permanent second-molar had taken up residence after its predecessor had the unfortunate luck of meeting Mello's fist before its time could come, "he knocked it out when he punched me."
Near stared at the other boy and then thought about whether he wanted to have Mello banging on his door early tomorrow morning with the intention of knocking his teeth out.
He didn't have to think too hard.
"L's sleeping with Kiyoshi--see you around," Near turned to open his door and Matt pulled it close again.
"Wait, what? L's doing what?"
"That's what it's about--later."
"How the hell do you– ewwww," Matt said as everything dawned on him. "They were getting it on while you guys were in there?"
Near stared back at him indifferently, but at the same time with an expression that looked like it had been made to witness everything there was on this planet.
Even their mentor getting busy with another guy.
Oh, and not just any guy, but specifically the one with the IQ that was just plain unfair and a dislike for cute orphans. He probably kicked puppies too. Good going, L.
"Wait a minute, if he's sleeping with him, then doesn't that mean everyone here will eventually get the short end of the stick?" Matt couldn't care less about becoming the next L, but that was Mello's life goal. Take that away from him and he didn't know what the blond would do. Even coming out of that room, he had looked close to tears, and Mello wasn't that emotional. Maybe he lost his temper sometimes and hit people when he shouldn't, but he didn't cry, or not where anyone could see him anyway.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Near said as he stepped into his room, the door swinging shut behind him and right in Matt's face.
"Give me a warning next time," Matt muttered at the other boy's door and turned away to head in the direction of the stairs. He wanted to go see Mello, but he doubted the blond would appreciate anyone trying to comfort him at the moment, especially when that comfort was coming from someone who royally sucked at that kind of thing.
Sighing, Matt continued on down the hallway towards the stairs. Class was probably still in session. It wasn't like attendance was mandatory, but when there was nothing better to do, he should at least attend sometimes…
A/n: Someone a few chapters back asked me why everyone at Wammy House would know how to speak Japanese. I thought that since Japan was in the news a lot because of the Kira case and L was working on it, all the children would want to learn Japanese in order to keep up with the case in its original language. That also explains the reason why they can all understand Misa.