CHAPTER 13 of "Smutty Shorts"
Title: "Massage Therapy"
Author: Sashocirrione
Spoilers: Minor spoilers for general facts about Death Note.
Warnings: NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities.
Summary: Light never picked up the death note, but he met L in a different context years later. Complete but open-ended.
Pairing: LxLight
Additional Notes: Most canon events never happened, since in this AU fanfic the canon storyline was derailed right at the start. Light graduated from college previous to the beginning of this fic. This is an experiment in telling a story using a multi-POV technique, without switching scenes or chapters when the POV changes, so it may be rough as to POV while I figure out how to do this. If I botch the POV technique, please say so in reviews.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.
"I'm sorry, Light, but I'm here to tell you... well... you're disrupting the night janitor's work again. Everyone else on our floor has... gone home."
It was Matsuda's voice, coming from somewhere behind. Light blinked at the computer screen glowing in front of him, seeming to glow all the more because of the general dimness. The only lights on were a few at this end of the office, but not above Light's desk. He was about to spin around in his chair when a hand descended painfully onto his shoulder and he yelped loudly. He couldn't help it.
Matsuda had jumped back and was feeling quite guilty by the time Light spun his chair around to glare.
Matsuda stammered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Light, but that was just a touch. I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't sure you'd heard."
Insulted, Light answered, "You didn't scare me. That hurt!"
"Is your shoulder sore?"
Light touched it himself and winced.
"Is it an injury?"
"No," Light said, "it's just from working long hours. My shoulders and back and," ...sigh "just about everywhere. My body gets like this sometimes. It's nothing to worry over."
Matsuda reached out, but stopped halfway when Light flinched. Seriously, Light was the most extreme workaholic in the entire building. It was admirable, but the poor guy obviously needed a rest.
Matsuda said, "You don't really have to try to be so much like your father. Even he doesn't work these kinds of hours any more."
"It's not that," Light said impatiently, "it's the matter of this spy. I can't rest when someone in our division is passing information to the yakuza. Organized crime is the scum of the earth, and to think that someone I drink coffee with every day could cooperate with such scum, it's... it's..."
Light realized his hands had both formed into fists and were shaking. He unclenched them and continued with, "It's something I can't tolerate. I know it's not you, my father, or myself. Everyone else could be the spy. I keep going over the altered log files and trying to find clues."
Light paused, considering how much to tell Matsuda. The guy did lean towards the stupid side, but he could keep secrets. He wouldn't go blabbing things.
Decision made, Light added, "Don't tell anyone this. I've found a little, but in order to test my theories I would need a lot more time, or resources I don't have access to, or some good luck. Internal Investigations won't listen to me unless I can give them something truly solid, instead of conjectures supported by a few measly clues. Furthermore, they'd never let me help them directly, because I am a suspect until this case is solved. They would never believe my little clues are anything other than attempts at misdirection."
"I know, I know, Light. Everybody's stressed about the spy. I don't think anyone's got it as bad as you, though. Before this, even. When there was no yakuza spy, there was the missing trust fund money, and before that the computer virus you were so obsessed with, and before that... well, there was always something, wasn't there? You need to relax. Why don't you come drinking with me tonight? It'll loosen those muscles right up!"
"No, Matsuda."
That was right, Light hardly drank at all! Matsuda wracked his brain. There had to be something better.
"Well... I know! You need to go on more dates with Takada!"
Light sighed. "We've broken up again. Besides, Takada is... boring. I think that's why we don't ever last. I should give up on her for good this time."
"Then you need to-"
"Just go away, Matsuda!"
Realizing what he'd done, Light groaned, rested his forehead in one hand and softly added, "That's not what I meant to say. I meant that I'm not at a good stopping point right now. Another hour, maybe two at most, and then I'll go home for the night. Tell that to the janitor."
Matsuda stared at the dark circles forming under Light's eyes and resolved he'd find some way to help, no matter how much work it was. He wanted to be of use. Probably one of the guys would have an idea.
Matsuda softly said, "Okay, Light, but I'll find some help for you soon, right?"
Light cringed inwardly, expecting a further barrage of attempts at getting him to drink or date, but instead Matsuda wandered away and didn't end up talking to him again until three days later.
It was after a conference meeting, when Light was trying to simply get back to his desk, but got held up by social obligations. Several small groups of men in deep conversation managed to draw him in as he tried to escape past them. There was no way to disengage quickly without being impolite, and so Light ended up wasting nearly fifteen minutes of his precious time with social niceties and retreading information he already knew.
When he thought he was nearly free, Matsuda spotted him and called out loudly, waving with the enthusiasm of a child and drawing lots of stares. Light found himself with no choice other than going in that direction to quiet Matsuda. Ignoring the man would only lead to more attempts later, wasting time until the issue was confronted.
Jumping up and down slightly in place, bursting with happiness at finding the perfect solution, Matsuda said, "I've got tickets for you, Light."
He thrust some stiff bright slips of paper into Light's hand, and Light took the items and looked at them. They were gift certificates for free sessions at some kind of spa; one Light didn't recognize the name of.
Matsuda said, "Ide won a whole bunch of free tickets, and he's giving them out to everyone. Ukita has already been to the place, and he says they give a very nice massage. Have you ever gotten a massage before, Light?"
"No, but..."
Light thought, Wait, this is my chance! If I go and then afterwards tell Matsuda it got rid of the stress, he'll stop bothering me and give up this quest, at least for a while.
Light sighed and said, "You're right, Matsuda. I should go. Thank Ide for me; I've got plenty of work to do now."
Matsuda beamed. He knew it would work! It was the least that Light deserved, a real massage experience!
"That's great, Light! Tell me how it goes!"
The next day was Saturday. Light wanted to work some overtime, but when he called his boss to get permission to come in, he simply couldn't reach him. The guy wasn't answering at all.
Light wondered if Matsuda had somehow arranged it, before dismissing the thought as ridiculous. Matsuda didn't have that much forethought in his plans.
Maybe the people working for Internal Investigations were doing something that took up all the boss's time, or perhaps he was simply sleeping in. Light made himself breakfast and tried again a few more times to reach his boss through several different methods, but there was never any reply and those brightly-colored free tickets seemed to be looming in his vision more and more.
At last, Light decided that he could at least get that task done, grabbed one of the tickets, and called the place to see if an appointment could be made right away.
A female receptionist's voice answered and scheduled an appointment for as soon as Light could get there. He hung up with a sense of dismay in his stomach. Was this a disreputable spa? If appointments were so easy to get, could the massages really be worth anything?
There was no time for researching suspicions. Light hurried to make sure he looked impeccable, every hair in place, the perfect suit on, and even some make-up to hide those dark eye-circles. Then he was headed for the nearest subway and on his way.
His mind, as usual, wouldn't shut up and continued to pick at him as he traveled, suggesting that something was off, no matter how many times he told himself that the worst possible situation would be a low-quality massage and getting rid of Matsuda's nagging for a while, a perfectly acceptable goal.
The building was in an expensive part of Tokyo. Light had to ride to the top floor of a towering sky-scraper and was left in a waiting room that was at least three times as large as any waiting room Light had been in before, an all-metal room with rivets on the wall, a high ceiling, and only two small sofas to sit on, dwarfed by the space. An empty receptionist's desk was at the far end of the room, decorated with several vases of fresh flowers.
While Light investigated the receptionist's desk, smelled the flowers, and wrote his name on the register before anxiously settling down, L was watching the entire scene from a hidden room.
Multiple monitors showed various views of Light Yagami, a definite person of interest in one of the most unexpectedly difficult cases L had encountered in his life. This tangent of the yakuza leak was but one thread of the complex whole, but L had the feeling that if he could just solve this part, the rest would fall into place.
It was a fiendishly difficult thread, though. It had been years since L had encountered a situation where all the investigative techniques and investigators he could procure would yield so few clues. It had been necessary to personally intervene, a relatively safe technique since very few people knew that L had taken this case, and nobody would expect L to break his pattern and get involved so directly.
Light Yagami... he had been under observation for a few weeks, and he was doing his own independent investigation, though L had found it difficult to dig up details about that. Light was fiendishly intelligent... he could be the leak, but L's instincts said no. Light's ideals were too strong to be the leak willingly, and if he were under some sort of threat or blackmail, a man like Light would have found a way to strike back at his enemy by now.
No, Light Yagami probably wasn't the leak, but he was still a person of interest, and knowing him could become very useful. L finished the last of his cookies and licked the crumbs from his fingers while Light fidgeted on a couch, looking haughty. Then L hopped from his chair and started things.
Light had not heard a door open, but when he turned his head in response to the words, "Hello, I am your masseur," he saw the man himself standing in an open doorway, in a peculiar hunched-forward posture, barefoot, in faded baggy jeans and an ill-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt. He was a slender wisp, tall and lanky, almost girlish except for the wide shoulders and his large, awkwardly-shaped, definitely manly hands. His shaggy hair was unkempt, sticking around in every direction and falling into his eyes, hiding them from view.
It didn't feel like meeting a highly-paid professional. It felt like meeting some religious weirdo on the subway, someone who was about to start ranting about the end of the world and trying to shove pamphlets into your hands.
The masseur lifted his head, revealing big eyes, not attractively large, but instead bugged out and fixed in a strange blank stare. He said, "Please call me Ryuzaki."
"I couldn't be so informal! I've just met you. Let me call you by your surname."
"My surname is of no importance. This will be an informal situation. After all, you'll be naked. It's best to dispense with formalities in such a situation. It helps with the relaxation. I'll simply call you 'Light' and you should be just as forward with me."
L turned and added, "Please follow me. We will be working back here."
Without waiting for a response, L strolled into the room and perched in a chair. When he turned around, Light had taken off his suit jacket and was making his way to the massage table in the middle of the room.
Light was surprised at the masseur's working area. Like the waiting room, it seemed entirely too large, dwarfing the massage table in the center. This room was more home-like, though, with plenty of furniture in it and rich, warm colors on the walls, punctuated by fancy oil paintings, vases of flowers, and lamps that only partially dispersed the dimness.
He felt Ryuzaki's stare burning into him and turned to meet those inky eyes again, fathomless and somehow sparking with a strange intelligence despite the blankness of the expression. Though he hadn't seen any music playing devices, soothing music was suddenly coming from somewhere hidden.
"Please disrobe entirely and lie face-down on the table," said Ryuzaki, motioning with one hand and scratching the back of his neck with his other hand.
Light knew it was a mistake. It was certainly a mistake, but there was no way to get out of it now while still being polite, so Light did as he was instructed, resentful, feeling the weight of that stare, the stare that never wavered to one side for even a moment. Ryuzaki must not know any politeness, and soon his hands would be all over, touching naked flesh. Light shuddered.
As his naked body settled onto it, the massage table was unexpectedly soft and warm, obviously having some sort of heat source inside it. Light reluctantly felt a little better.
He saw bare feet move into his vision, roughly kicking his neat pile of clothing to the side, rumpling his suit. He almost snapped at that, an insult ready on his tongue, but he swallowed it instead, determined to simply make it through and never, never take advice from Matsuda again.
"Here," said Ryuzaki, pushing at Light's head to settle his face into the loop-shaped cradle at the front. Light yelped in pain.
"I'm sorry. It looks as if I will need to use the rocks on you."
"Rocks?"
L quickly grabbed one of them and held it at the right level for Light's vision.
Light saw a smooth, glossy black rock, very flat, being held just under his nose. With a flick of Ryuzaki's wrist the rock pressed gently against Light's cheek, exuding tremendous heat, almost too much.
Ryuzaki explained, "These will be placed on your back, neck and thighs to loosen up the muscles before we begin. While I wait for the rocks to work their magic, I will give you a foot massage."
Light saw those bare feet pattering about, moving in and out of his field of vision, and one by one the smooth, heated rocks were placed along his body, each one soaking its warmth deep into the muscles, feeling kind of good. His eyes fluttered closed a few times and he realized he was almost feeling sleepy, lulled into a drifting bliss by the soft music and the penetrating heat and the dimness of the room.
The first touch on his feet was startling, a sliding pressure, slippery with oil. The masseur pressed too hard in the very center of Light's sole and he whimpered in protest.
Instead of letting up, Ryuzaki said, "Just a moment. You'll get used to this, and then it will feel good."
The pressure increased, painfully, and Light gasped through clenched teeth, and then, just when he was about to say something, the pressure was suddenly released and he missed it, wanted it to return. A few moments later the foot was clenched again, in two hands, in a different pattern, being flexed in opposite directions, creating an internal pulling, and then it was unflexed, and the same set of actions repeated. Each moment felt better and better, the soothing hands working deep into painful knots and releasing them one by one.
Light sighed in bliss when the hands moved on to his second foot and the process repeated. He was learning to crave the pain, for what it meant, for the upcoming release it signaled. The hands gradually left his feet and worked up Light's calves, sensuously, slowly rubbing in complex patterns, and Light began to hear a chewing noise from behind, stopping and starting at intervals.
Light lifted his head and glanced backwards to see Ryuzaki eating little chocolates from a silver tray as he worked; they looked like expensive, fancy gourmet chocolates.
The masseur noticed and said, "Don't worry. All the massage oils I use are edible. I'm not poisoning myself. Would you like a chocolate as well?"
"No."
Ryuzaki was crawling up Light's body slowly, hovering so near Light could feel the other man's body heat, in the process removing the warm stones one by one and touching the flesh underneath, flesh that was ready to be touched and rubbed deeply, muscles loose and warm and a tingly feeling beginning to move all through Light's body. He still had that drifting, trance-like sensation of being on the edge of sleep, but there was an underlying excitement growing gradually, his breaths speeding up.
Light wanted to arch up into every touch of those hands, but his body was too warm and lazy to enact his cravings. It felt entirely boneless, draped helplessly over the table. He was a puddle that could flow away at any moment.
The masseur's body was shifting above him, losing contact, the contact Light needed so very much, and he almost, almost had the strength to arch upward in pursuit, but he couldn't and instead simply shivered, letting the laziness soak further into him. The return of that skin contact was pure bliss, in the form of two hands and one foot, all three kneading furiously and skillfully, stroking him, touching him like he'd never been touched before, and he was gasping under the impact, the weight being leveraged onto him to press hard and sure into each sore spot.
Tingly warmth was rushing through Light's skin and deep inside his abdomen, gathering as a heavy sensation between his legs and it was then he realized, as his erection rapidly swelled in its bent position trapped against the table, that he was more aroused than he'd ever been before in his life. This wasn't at all like when Takada touched him, or any of the other girls. This was completely different, new and exciting.
It was mortifying and exhilarating and he didn't know what he wanted, but it was all so impossible, and he found himself shaking under those skilled hands and whispering, "More" and "Yes" and the blood was rushing to his face as well, a fierce blush burning his skin. It was a man, a man doing this to him, and he didn't know what to think. He'd never had a man touch him so intimately and boldly, and he'd never craved anything like this.
L was watching his client turning into an aroused, shaking, gasping mess. Erections were a normal result during massage sessions, but this was something else altogether. It was an unexpected development, but understandable after considering Light's history. According to all the information L had been able to find, 22-year-old Light had only ever had girlfriends, they seldom lasted long, and they all complained of disinterest.
L squeezed a round, perfect buttock, and as he watched the shivering and slight moan it provoked, he thought, Yes, I am almost certain of it now. Light Yagami is a closeted gay man, closeted even from himself. This could be an excellent opportunity to get very close to him indeed. It would not be unpleasant, either. He is very intelligent and a fine physical specimen.
It was exciting to think that Light would probably just let anything be done to him, right on the table. L decided to see how far it could go. Coating his hands with a fresh layer of massage oil, he knelt between Light's legs, pushing them apart more and working on the inner thighs, hard circular rubbing. Light's breath hitched and he squirmed, muscles twitching at first under the movements and then he relaxed utterly and let out a soft, embarrassed-sounding "Yes."
L almost chuckled to himself, but he was able to contain the sound and slowly worked closer and closer to the junction between Light's legs, watching the shivering turn into strong shuddering. Light was a fascinating creature, in all sorts of ways.
L whispered, "I see your erection is folded under your body. That must be painful. Let me adjust it for you into a more comfortable position."
Light could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he didn't want to resist. He lifted his hips slightly as long, slippery fingers slid underneath him, cupping his balls briefly and then settling exactly where Light wanted them, unfolding the painful kink in his erection and suddenly it was pointing the right way, immense relief, and the hands, the hands, they were still touching, tucking him into position and the sliding friction was too much, too much.
Light squeezed his eyes shut and came hard with a groan all over the masseur's fingers, and they were pumping him, milking more of it out of him, and it was perfect and wrong as the intensity peaked even higher, and he didn't care, he didn't care at all, he simply wanted it, and hated himself for wanting it.
He blinked in the aftermath. Sweat stung his eyes and shame filled his gut.
Light said, "I... I must apologize. I've never been so humiliated in my life."
Choosing his words carefully, L replied, "This is a new occurrence for me, but it is not unpleasant. You are a very attractive young man. I would like to attend to your sexual needs. If you flip over, I will clean up your semen and give you a prostate massage."
Light pulled his relaxed body up onto his elbows and knees. It felt immensely good, a sort of glowing feeling all throughout him. In a few moments, Ryuzaki had gotten a warm, wet cloth from somewhere and was cleaning every sticky surface and then patting away the moisture with dry, fluffy towels.
Light settled onto his back and Ryuzaki crouched between Light's spread legs, in the posture of a gargoyle. Light suddenly remembered that he was dealing with a weirdo that he hadn't wanted to touch him at all, but that seemed unimportant now. Instead, he only braced himself as one long, probing finger slipped into his tight hole.
It was uncomfortable at first, but as the oily finger continued slipping in and out this discomfort faded and it began to feel positively interesting. Before long, each time the finger pulled out, it felt empty inside, needing to be filled and stimulated.
Ryuzaki said, "You're beginning to adjust, but I'll take as long as you need. Tell me what you want, Light."
Light closed his eyes and whispered, "More."
A second finger joined the first, feeling incredibly weird, but then that interesting sensation began to overcome the weirdness and a relaxed, loose tingling spread throughout his entire pelvic region. He was panting again, and he had to keep opening his eyes from time to time to gaze at the stranger crouched between his legs. His gaze was met each time boldly, unblinkingly, and there was somehow something between them in those stares, an intimate connection communicated through the stranger's dark, mirror-like eyes.
When Light's erection started to rise again, Ryuzaki said in a low monotone, "I'll give you a little oral," and then simply leaned over to gently mouth the sensitive tip, surrounding it with exquisite warmth, pressure and suction, and then slow, long, teasing licks. Light melted for that mouth as his penis rapidly stiffened fully. His body was no longer his own; it was caught up in an irresistible chain of instinctual reactions, skillfully being puppeted by the masseur.
Under the influence of the teasing, on-again, off-again oral, Light accepted a third finger perfectly, feeling it settle within him exactly as it should, just where it was needed, thrusting alongside the others. Light knew he was lost, utterly out of control, an experience that was entirely new to him.
"Give me your hand," Ryuzaki ordered, and Light obeyed.
In moments Ryuzaki had pulled down his baggy jeans and underwear, and was placing Light's hand on the stiff cock that sprang free from them. It was a shock to feel that warm, firm organ. To be touching another man's erect penis, the tangible evidence of his excitement and desire, it felt very right and very primal to some instinct coded deep within Light's brain. He was lost, still lost, and he barely registered Ryuzaki's next words.
"I would like to massage you internally with my penis. This would give you a very intense prostate massage, which tends to lead to forceful, and particularly pleasurable, ejaculation."
"You're asking to fuck me?"
"Yes. May I fuck you, Light?"
Although every instinct in Light was screaming, Yes, Yes, he hesitated.
L knew exactly how cheesy his explanation sounded, but he couldn't think of anything that didn't sound cheesy, and Light was pretty far gone. Light had already swallowed so much bait that the hook was probably well-sunk into him.
During the gap, L said, "I promise it will feel very good. I know what I'm doing."
Light closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and whispered, "Please... yes."
To L's surprise, Light was already trying to manipulate L's erection into himself.
L pulled away and said, "Lube first," coating himself with a generous layer of oil.
He could hardly wait to penetrate the young man underneath him. Somehow, this had all become far more interesting that he'd anticipated. Perhaps it had been too long since the last encounter... L had always been picky about his lovers, and unwilling to invest much time searching out the few men and women who met his requirements. It involved at least two weeks of observing the potential lover to start with, and the payoff was rarely more than a handful of encounters.
His own hands trembling slightly, L put back the bottle of oil and started easing in slowly. All the memories came rushing back at once, of just how much he liked sex, of how absorbing it could be during the moment. Light was truly begging, underneath him, and the grip of Light's internal muscles was almost too much to take.
It was glorious and tight and warm in there, and he wanted to pound roughly, ruthlessly, but he went slowly with pauses, helping Light to adjust, using one free hand to stroke him and to keep his arousal high enough for further penetration, gradually slipping inside more and more.
Light was overwhelmed. It was strange and a little bit painful, but Ryuzaki seemed to instinctively know exactly when the stretch was too much, and then he would pause and his deliciously talented hand would stroke up and down Light's hardness until Light found himself opening up a little more and Ryuzaki would slip deeper.
Somewhere in the background, that soothing music was still playing, and Light was staring into the depths of those strange jet-black eyes again as his body was slowly navigated and penetrated, a sense of unreality permeating the situation. He felt almost more than physically merged with the very exciting, very male body that he was currently letting screw him, even though he'd just met the man. It was too surreal to think about. Light's mind shied away from the lurking questions, and he gave himself over to the raw experience.
With one last movement that felt very right, they were suddenly joined completely together, Ryuzaki as deeply seated as he could be, his pubic bone nudged against the backside of Light's tightly-drawn-up balls, Ryuzaki's thin and sinuous but lightly-muscled body hovering just above Light's own as he propped himself up on elbows and, panting, said, "Tell me when to start moving."
"Now."
It was strange, that internal sense of movement now reversed, that hard and long thing lodged deep inside pulling out, leaving empty space behind. Light was squeezing instinctively after it, missing its filling presence, trying to hold on, and he lifted his hips a bit in pursuit. The angle changed and the intensity suddenly increased, and Light let out a little semi-growl. He wanted more, more, more, and his body knew just what to do.
He wrapped his legs around Ryuzaki's waist, preserving the correct angle as the pull-out changed to once again pushing in, overwhelming, making Light shudder and say various embarrassing things that barely registered, forgotten in an instant.
The entire world was narrowed down to little more than tightness and slick movement and the delightful pleasure radiating within him, bare skin pressed together, the delicious invasion of his body by another, Ryuzaki's toned chest rubbing against his, Ryuzaki's tongue vigorous on his neck, that flyaway poufy hair tickling Light's chin and cheek, the cries of passion spilling automatically from Light's mouth.
In and out, getting faster, it was a rhythm swaying within his lower abdomen, waves of pleasure perfectly matched to the thrusts of that stiff organ inside him. Each wave drove the pleasure and arousal a little bit higher, building towards that impending release.
Moving together with Ryuzaki, being impaled and stroked and licked, gentle tongue and nipping teeth along his neck and collarbone, it was better, it was better than anything. It felt like something he'd always secretly wanted, something he'd been lusting after his whole life without knowing it.
"Ryuzaki," he gasped, "Ah! Ryuzaki!"
And then it was suddenly as high as it could go, and like water flowing over, it was all releasing, the pent-up feelings bursting out in a flood of pleasure, hot pulses, so much semen, so very much, and Ryuzaki was helping with his clever little hand, stroking and squeezing and Light gave himself completely over to it, whimpering and sobbing shamelessly.
Light's release was almost L's undoing. It took L's entire willpower to not release at the same moment, to help Light through his climax in a way sure to instill a desire for repeat performances instead of merely collapsing helplessly onto Light's chest. As the last bit of semen dribbled out of Light, L let himself go, thrusting hard once, twice, and then the finely-tuned balance tipped and it was suddenly all pouring out of him into Light, a sharp peak of pleasure shooting out of his penis and spreading outward in a wave that radiated tingles all the way to his finger-tips and toe-tips.
He blinked down at his new lover, feeling more than the usual post-orgasmic sentiment. Something about Light was different than the others, and some part of L's mind was already entertaining fantasies of prolonging the relationship beyond whenever the case happened to wrap up.
Light still felt disconnected from reality. There was a weird kind of glowing relaxation in him, in every fiber of his being. It felt strangely good to simply cling to Ryuzaki's nearly-nude body, seeing his jeans funnily tangled around his ankles and his long-sleeved shirt still clinging to one arm. It was too strange and too good to be real, wasn't it?
Light felt something being placed into his hand and looked down, seeing Ryuzaki putting a business card there.
With an intense look in his eyes, Ryuzaki said, "What happened here today was something special. I think we need to explore it, and going on dates is the logical way to do so. Please call me whenever you want. There won't ever be a charge."
A/N (Author's Note):
This is a kink meme fill, for the second Death Note anonymous kink meme at dn_kink2 on Livejournal. It is actually the second fill for this prompt, though I started writing it before the first fill appeared. This first fill is the excellent "Soothing the Fire" by Viyola which can be found on fanfiction dot net.
The request reads:
"Full Body Massage turns into unexpected sex
Light is a slightly cranky, reserved, and Really tense (and intense) business man. Matsuda, Mikami, or someone that he works closely with (Namikawa?) suggest/tell him he needs to relax, and book him an appointment for a full body massage to this place that 'works wonders'. Or they happen to have free tickets or somethings to make him go. (This can be because they're fed up with him or because they are worried about his stressed out state.) so Light goes.
In comes L, an eccentric masseur.
Light takes his clothes off and the massage starts, and Light, who kinda didn't even want L to touch him, because L is...L-like?
He gets really into the massage despite himself. He becomes Very Vocal.
L notices, and decides that, well Light IS already naked, so he wants to see how far he can go. (Which is all the way.)
Surprise sex on a massage table with Light letting L do whatever he wants to him. Ahhh, I SO want This.
Please write this somebody!"