ALL CAMPERS REQUIRED TO TAKE CANOE TIP TEST BEFORE DAY'S END
BREAKFAST (prepared at campsite)
SHOWERS (as of last night Shower 6 is broken, please make note of this)
HAWKING (see mews)
HORSEBACK RIDING (blacksmithing demonstration optional)
MEETING WITH WAMMY
LUNCH (at mess hall)
MEETING WITH ADVISORS
ARCHERY
LASER TAG (ALL LEVELS)
DINNER (at Point, all levels)
NIGHTLY SCHEDULED ACTIVITIES WITHIN OWN UNIT (send assessment report to Wammy)
This was the uncomfortably haphazard schedule L handed Light after the younger boy sat up and snuffled into a tissue for a time upon waking. He wasn't really concentrating on the schedule but analyzing the turn of events that had just taken place the night before. You see, dear reader, up until the mortifyingly childish act of crying he'd succumbed to in the car, he'd been planning a liaison with L that would give him control of Wammy's through mutual respect and understanding and eventual betrayal. The path that L now offered destroyed this plan, and luckily so. The notion of giving L the respect he deserved only left confusing feelings of actual happiness before instinct pummeled happiness senseless and left a rancid taste in Light's mouth. He was here to conquer. And conquer only.
Deciding that starting a conversation with L might look like a subtle plea for help, Yagami imagined L dead as he febrezed his belongings.
"I had Wammy bring you new clothes."
Two extra squirts from the bottle and the view of Light's back.
L blew into his steaming cup of sludge, née coffee, pretending he wasn't hurt. He made one last attempt, trying to sound disaffected. "Do you want me to come with you to pick up the breakfast stuff? I think Misa's the only one there."
Light laughed. "I think all the data you have on me shows I can handle a hormonal girl."
Taking a first sip of his coping mechanism, L watched Light leave.
He should have let L come along and act as bodyguard.
As Misa's fingertips starts skimming past the hem of his pajama pants ("Are those black boxers or are they briefs? I lo-ove briefs they're so cute and black's my favorite color!") Light had an epiphany and grabbed her wrists. Misa gasped.
"I really like it when you touch me, Light."
Light ignored this and steered her into sitting in case she collapsed at hearing the dire news. She giggled, murmuring something about how warm he was and how good he smelled, and watched his face, expectant.
"Misa, I should have told you this before...I like boys." He patted her head and hoped for an immediate reaction that resulted in, say, her repulsion of him.
"Light…" Her face crumpled. "Light, are you a hundred percent sure? Because if you still want to…experiment..Bisexual…me…noooooo.." She fell to her knees and began crying.
Light began looking for a box with something suitably breakfast-like inside that he could feed the campers. There were several unmarked boxes and he'd just grab the first convenient one with pancake mix and be off, but when he came on such a one he turned and found himself pinned to the counter by Misa.
"DO I KNOW HIM?" was the distraught girl's next question.
Light thought. If he said he was single, she would insist on playing cupid in order to pretend a sort of surrogate girlfriend relationship. If he said that he did have a boyfriend said boyfriend would have been left behind in Japan. Misa would virtually stalk this fictional hottie until satisfied he didn't exist and then continue to torment him. No, the only safe way out of the grave he'd dug (and it hadn't been one until he realized with horror what he'd have to do) was to be seeing someone at the camp. And there was really no other option than the person currently sorting jelly beans by color in his hammock.
Oh, how repulsive.
Yagami could swear Misa to secrecy of the relationship and L wouldn't have a clue, and hopefully there would be no other repercussions besides the glorious one taking place right now.
Haha, he thought, lightheaded, clue. Funny.
"Yeah...um...Misa? It's kind of embarrassing cause he doesn't want anyone to know."
"Well you could have just said L." Relishing Light's jaw drop, Misa giggled and whispered, which meant talking in a normal tone. "I'm not dumb I mean look at him and you'd be perfect together and I don't know whyy-yyy I didn't see this before but I'm so BLIND when I'm in love." A tragic sigh. "I'm so happy for you. L is really cute. Like you. I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL HALLE AND WEDY."
In fact, the entire camp would probably know before noon.
"I told you he doesn't want anyone to know."
"But Light he trusts us or he wouldn't have hired us and like seriously everyone wants to be with L cause like there was this one interrogation tape where he had to seduce someone and it was so hot and I really wanted to be the boy he was seducing so I told him he needed to practice his seducing skills on me and he said that I had–"
"Misa," Light begged, her unwanted speech flirting with his imagination.
"Oh but I bet you already know everything he can do. Heehee! Bet all those scratches and everything aren't so in-no-cent huh?" she purred, hands running over his chest.
Light tensed, remembering the horrific events of the day previous. "Ye–yes, and you can't tell anyone. Please. For me."
"I told you, I'd only tell Wedy and Halle and maybe Wammy and that one hot lifeguard!"
"No. No one."
"Only if you kiss me." She flapped her arms and bounced in place, laughing.
"No. L will get jealous."
Misa winked. "Fine then, doesn't count if I start it, huh?" She pursed her lips and leaned in but Light shoved her off with the box and fled.
There had been no kiss and the camp would know. And even though such a faked connection to the detective would most likely make him the envy of oh, the entire world, the thought of even holding hands with the pale rickety-framed thing was too much to ponder while fleeing. He still had time to go back, murder Amane, and hide the body. Unless, of course...Light sprinted faster down the path with his box of pancake mix and bacon and didn't stop until he reached his own tent, dumping the box on the floor.
"Misa called me," L said before Light opened his mouth. "Apparently you and I have been dating since your last year of high school."
Seeing Light squirm in place as if holding in noxious amounts of flatulence was soothing L's wounded heart. Besides, there was absolutely no reason to let Light know of the existence of the millions of cameras and that L had already seen everything, knew Light's motivation, and would be milking this situation for everything it was worth. He took a noiseless sip of his blueberry-peach shake and continued to type.
Light began to babble as he wallowed in depths of embarrassment that went miles deeper than anything he'd previously experienced, even the incident with the tampon. "I'm really really sorry I shouldn't have said anything but I thought it would make her back off and now the whole camp is going to know and it was just stupid you see she started touching my boxers and I wanted to make her stop and I'm gay so I told her that I had a boyfriend and I thought that if it was someone at camp she'd back off."
"Oh," was L's response. He hadn't even looked up from his laptop.
"I'm sorry," Light repeated.
L, at last, met Light's eyes. "I told her our..." L sucked down another fourth of his shake in one tight sip,"relationship is so secret that we can't show any sort of physical affection in public. It would seem more suspicious if you suddenly started pawing at me."
You. As in Light. As in L would refuse to reciprocate. As in L thought that pawing on his part, giving the eyebrow quirk and mildly affronted look he was giving his laptop screen, would be abhorrent.
Before his mind could digress to all the disgustingly unattractive uses of the word paw, Light let his pride flare. Even if he agreed to the fact that Misa seemed like the sort of hyperanalytical girl who would notice a parody of a relationship they supposedly already had, that L didn't want to touch Light was obviously a lie.
Everyone wanted Light.
"Well, we can't not be affectionate or it won't seem real."
"Light?"
Light crossed his arms and waited.
"Do you have a crush on me?"
Baited and trapped. It was all blindingly obvious now. Sickening.
"Absolutely not."
"Then why do you want this so badly?"
"Want? No. Nothing. No pawing. End of argument. I have to go cook breakfast. I hate you, remember? I don't paw." Ending the sentence with a glare, Light snatched away the plastic straw that L had been chewing flat.
L bristled. "If you act like my parent you'd never convince Amane anyway."
"When my boyfriend acts like he's four with his finger in his mouth all the time what else would anyone expect?"
"We're not together," L reminded gently.
"She's going to think we are," Light snarled. "Wait until lunch. You can bring your duties with you." He waved his hand at the laptop and exited.
L gave the space Light had just occupied a glowing smile.
Now convinced by none other than that one individual he always though correct—himself—that he wanted to touch L, Light made a mental list of diverse sorts of intimate and subtle (paw he did not) gestures to be used on L the next time Misa was in their combined presence. It was only to prove to the detective that he wasn't the only one (according to Amane's rendition of L's skills and Light's mental embellishment of them) who had mastered that area.
And thankfully if the detective grew to like the counterfeit relationship Light could brush him off at once without a single strain to his conscience. He'd had dozens of boyfriends and the occasional girlfriend that he'd used until wrung dry (money, social positioning, whatever he could strain out of them) and this would be no different.
As for the campers, new living arrangements had been decided upon since Light had last been in Mello and Matt's tent. Their plan to watch L and Light had flowered into something monstrous. Things that were monstrous needed a tactical base, and they had created one for the three to share. Three beds were smashed together in the center of the tent with Mello's queen-sized air mattress covered in blankets and pillows and half of Near's softer toys. Matt had unpacked all of his equipment, powered by a generator purring in the corner like an amiable pet, and a cooler full of chocolate was open next to the thing.
Again, Matt was already awake, but sitting up this time. Near's head was in his lap and the hand that wasn't typing absently played with thick curls.
"You..." Light assessed the new situation. "Get. Up. Now."
"Five minutes."
"No. L put me in charge."
"Exactly."
Mello's head rose from the murky depths of his black pillow and Light's fingers itched to touch the sleep-mussed hair.
"What's it doing?" He unwound his legs from Near's and extracted his arm from underneath Matt's shirt. Light didn't know that Mello was incredibly needy, that Matt was straight, and Near would only take physical affection when asleep, and thought that he was viewing some underage ménage à trois.
Matt replied to Mello in Serbian and Mello replied in Portuguese. The exchange, for those who cannot understand those languages, went something like this:
"B really messed him up. We should be nice today. He looks really tired."
"Mail, he said he hated L."
Matt shrugged and let Mello win.
Mello offered Light a subdued smile that melted Light's spine and most of his grey matter and said, "Looks like Beyond scratched you up pretty bad, Light."
"Yeah," Light nodded, dropping the chewed-on straw (into the garbage, ever-polite), and pulled off his shirt.
It was actually ghastly. Deep bruises licked up and down Light's sides and front, the scrapes from the gravel not covered with rusty gauze and medical tape thick and sullen across his skin. The shape of knuckles scraped his jaw, and the top of one ear was cut.
"Oh, baby," Mello whispered, feeling almost sympathetic, "come here and let me look at those." He shifted closer to Near to let Light have room. (It was undoubtedly unfortunate that Mello's concern was fraudulent, because Light snuggled into him with such misery and thankfulness it was supremely awkward knowing L was watching.)
"Do you want to talk about it? Mello murmured, adapting his most soothing L-based tone. Light's head was buried in Mello's pillow and Mello couldn't resist making a face at Matt.
"No," hiccuped Light. "We have to eat breakfast now."
Let it be known that the option of choosing Mello as his fake boyfriend had been thought over and then repelled when Light remembered a clause in his contract dismissing all relationships between staff and campers, but the soft touches through his hair and over his neck almost made him wish he hadn't and taken the exorbitant fine and jail time.
"I think you should rest for a few minutes while we make you breakfast."
"We have a full schedule today."
"I said a couple minutes," Mello purred. "Not half an hour. Just a few minutes," he repeated, tucking the covers around both of them. Near was watching with nostrils delicately flared.
"Yeah," Light breathed. His eyes were already closed as Mello began to massage the teen's forehead with his fingertips. "That feels good."
"Mmmm," was the generic yet deliciously calming reply.
"Don't stop, Mello."
"Mmmmm."
"Mello, you're...my favorite."
"Mmm-hmmm."
"Once...camp is over, I want you to be my...my boyfriend."
"Mmmmm."
And Light was asleep.
Light was brought gently to consciousness with a nudge of L's heel.
"Mmff."
"You've been asleep for five hours."
Light snapped upright and fell out of the bed onto his feet. "What?"
"And your campers have stolen the two year-olds and put them on a flight to Malaysia along with their supervisors."
"He—"
"And they are currently flying to Tokyo but Wammy has ordered them back here by noon tomorrow."
Knowing nothing could be amended and a panic attack would be frivolous to the extreme the mature path was trod and Light grew pokerfaced. "Why Tokyo?"
"Because you forfeited your responsibilities I am putting you in the kitchen with Misa for the rest of the day. You'll help prepare the food and the menus for the next month. They expect you any minute."
"Will you go with?"
"And Light, if I ever catch you sleeping next to a camper again you'll be sent home. Your professionalism and integrity are now mooted."
"Please?"
A cool look, and L hit the tent flaps as he exited. "Alright."
"Hi Light hi L how are you two you look good I mean not together like separately oops I mean heyyyy how are you guys doing? Look I'm decorating cake!"
Clumsy, wonderful Misa. There was a slick of spilled vegetable oil right in their path and L was about to step into it.
A phrase, an overused and cliched phrase ran through Light's head and clutched at his soul and even though he knew the true meaning of the phrase and its interpretation by its creator and the overly simplified popular version none of that mattered in the least, for Light seized the day for all it was worth.
"Watch out!" He grabbed L's shirt and pulled him back just as foot almost touched oil. And it was so beautifully two-sided: Light's own personal sense of carefulness? Or wanting to save L from a nasty, nasty fall?
Misa blinked her vacuous eyes, decision already made. "Oooo I should take care of that sorry heehee oops!" She didn't notice L's posture correct harshly as his shirt was straightened by a loving Light, who for some outré reason slipped fingers against skin, just skimming under the waistband of L's jeans.
"L I wanted to ask you about Mikami!" Misa burbled. She held up a crumpled picture stained with a good half dozen flavors of lipstick.
L gathered his scattered thoughts. "He's needed much sooner than I thought," said L, pulling at his shirt himself and refusing to let hormones get the better of him. Light stood at his side, smirking and victorious.
"Yay I'm so excited I love new boys!" She hugged L and Light both with a squeal and bounced back off, dancing around the kitchen. "LIGHT COME HELP ME WITH THIS CAKE NOW PLEASE WE ARE GOING TO HAVE THE BEST DAY TOGETHER EVER."
L was gone with that, leaving Light with a new goal. Wammy's was no longer the focus. No, the focus was L Lawliet, and Light was measuring every angle from which to attack.
Light shoved L's legs down. He shoved off the laptop. He placed the caramel and walnut banana cake on L's thighs.
"Misa made this for me and I'm allergic to nuts."
"Oh." L picked off one of the prettily-arranged legumes and popped the caramel-encrusted thing into his mouth. "Thank you."
(Light was as allergic to nuts as he was to power. Or Mello.)
"I'm sorry I went looking for B. Okay, well, I'm not sorry, but I'm sorry I was rude to you after you went through all the trouble of finding me."
L shrugged and scooped out a fingerful of cake. Light's lip curled.
"Just lex artis," L said, and licked at his finger. He shrugged again and turned his full attention to the cake.
The reception of the gift souring Light's previously exuberant mood, he sat on his bed in a slump. It broke beneath him with a rusty shriek and Light found himself on the floor, staring up at the three bats clinging to the rafters. One sent down a welcoming present of a single dropping. Light undignified the language of Latin by shrieking "Libera te me ex inferis!" before scrambling to his feet and running over to L's hammock. He gripped the edge of it and snarled, "I cannot live in these conditions. I demand sleeping in the main buildings tonight."
L was eating whole handfuls of cake at this point. (It was absolutely scrumptious). He wiggled his toes. "I would tell you to get one of the camper's beds and drag it in here but Wammy's disinfecting the canvas. You can sleep in my hammock."
"Okay," sighed Light, and L slunk down to let Light in. He re-perched himself atop the high end of the broken bed and resumed his work. Light sunk into piles of silk comforters with his back towards L and wondered how something that looked juvenile and cheap could be a thousand times more blissful than his own bed.
He'd get a new bed as soon as he woke up tomorrow, of course.
Of course.
Everything was richly perfumed in L. Sharp, clean, androgynous.
As soon as he woke up.
"Near's asleep," Mello whispered into Matt's ear. The penthouse suite was beyond what the front desk had assumed was viable for three pubescent boys, but money is the ultimate clearance and they were now settled in on the 47th floor. Matt had gone right to the TV in one of the adjoining rooms to inspect the offerings. It was a toss-up between Die Hard and Plan 9 From Outer Space.
"So?"
"I want to go to bed."
"Then. Go."
"But you're going to watch a movie."
Matt rolled his eyes and looked up at Mello. "I am not your buffer. Go sleep. You can do it. I promise."
Mello just stood there and played with his rosary, humming tunelessly.
"Do whatever, man."
"Like him?" he growled in his throat.
Matt drug his fingers down his face, hard. "He. Is. Like. Thirt. Teen. Mello."
Mello considered this. He shoved Matt over. "Plan 9."
They fell asleep from jet lag halfway through and woke up cramped and moody. Near was sprawled on the bed reading the paper when Mello stumbled into the room with Matt following behind.
"You sleep good?" Matt asked, elbowing Mello.
Near shrugged and turned another page as the other two fell into the bathroom together to pee. (The truth was, dear reader, that he had not: the lack of at least one other body had left him feeling open and chilled. The three wadded blankets on the bed proved this point.)
After breakfast in bed and then a trip to the concierge lounge the three plotted their route. It was soon finalized: leading L and Light on a wild goose chase through most of the civilized world. Not that they thought the two would follow. Freedom was freedom, and they had not yet been fetched by L. It was time to exploit.
They're in Kenya, L. You must go fetch them or they will refuse to return. So the text from Wammy read the next morning. Wammy always used proper grammar in every situation even if doing so lost seconds on life in an emergency situation).
"Chicago," L lied, thinking of a particularly case that had needled him for months. With Light, there may be a chance to solve it. "We can be there by tomorrow afternoon."
Light seethed from underneath L's blankets. "I don't want to go to Chicago."
"Then I'll cancel my reservation at The Drake."
Light spotted a speck of crumbly dry leaf that had almost invaded his personal space. "The Drake."
"Yes."
"Conditions," Light warned, peeping out from under the covers. "In case this turns into us going around the globe."
"I'm listening."
"Whenever I'm tired, we'll sleep. Whenever I'm hungry, we'll eat. And no handcuffs. Ever."
"Okay."
Light hunkered down again to catch more rest before he was flown across half the country and, hopefully, into Mello's waiting arms (as that had been his dream upon waking he decided to return to it to see what would happen next).
"Light?"
"L."
"My conditions are that you must obey—"
"—THE CONTRACT, I KNOW."
"Except for where it interferes with your requests. Please."
Light rolled over. Six minutes later L checked his phone and turned off the alarm he had set. The time-wasting duration of his four hour nap was annoying but if he began to start a two hour cycle every fifty-eight hours he began getting a little loopy after the third week. So sleep now he must even if Light was taking over his bed.
"Please scoot over, Light."
Light did as was requested.
"Thank you." A blast of chill morning air invaded under the covers (though L only felt the warmth from Light's body heat as he pulled the blankets back).
"What—" Light yelped.
L slumped over onto Light, already asleep, his thumb in his mouth and sucking. He curled around Light with his next breath.
"My four year-old boyfriend," Light muttered. He absently patted L's face and dozed off.