For many millennia and through countless civilizations, the Serpent, cunning and silent, had been the symbol of ideal political power, control, and sovereignty. The ancient Egyptians donned it on their heads and arms and clothing, and when the regal kings sat, on their laps they folded their fists with the head of the thumb sticking up like a snake ready to strike - the might of the pharaohs who were the conduits of divine power: the Light. Osiris the Light, the Light that dwelled silent and hidden within every man. Like the poison within the serpent. It was power; struck with it in abundance, it destroyed, but taken in miniscule doses over time, immunity to it would developed and fortify impenetrable defenses.

Power and Poison, Light and Serpent; they shared equal qualities, thus the greatest dynasties, aspirants to power, dictators and revolutionaries alike embraced these symbols and their nature.

The Serpent was seductively adroit, hypnotic in speech, and therein lay the true danger; not in the venom within him but the allure of his beauty and wiles. He lived to prey and crush the weak in his grip before devouring it whole. But when he encountered someone larger than himself - a threat - he pinned his sight on the target and quietly planned his move before striking, swiftly, silently, biting to instill his poison that would render those stronger than he weak, slowly killing them from the inside.

Lucifer, the Light Bringer, had taken the form of a snake to cajole Eve into eating the apple, the Forbidden Fruit of Knowledge which would make Man like God. But there could be only one God, so Man was banished from Eden and given to Lucifer to use against his Father. The perfect plot to become God. Seduce, infect, and take over.

Yagami Raito was the serpent that had weakened him. L had thought the temptation to love Raito had been kept under control; a detached emotion trying to penetrate the walls of his heart, but with the same subtle properties of a virus, it had succeeded in weakening his defenses without his notice until it was too late. He was infected, and he was going to die. Funny that the harbinger of death came to L bearing the name of Light.

That day in the helicopter, he saw the brilliance in Raito's eyes change after touching the death note. Behind those beautiful caramel orbs, someone else had been suddenly looking through them. The old Raito whose eyes shone with the power of Truth while confined in that cell long ago - that Raito was slain by Kira's venom. That very poison that had brought L to his knees.

Still he had held on to the eighty percent possibility he could have been wrong. Perhaps there was no change, and it was all his imagination? Before Higuchi's death, L had been ninety-nine percent sure Raito had been Kira, but had passed on that power. L had felt relieved, almost happy, to think Raito would remain ignorant of his time as Kira. He had hoped the younger man would never regain his memories.

Hope. It was the stupidest thing he had indulged.

L had fallen in love with Yagami Raito. The day the boy died; that cloudy night Kira overtook him, L had felt his heart break when he realized what had been evident - after he had promised himself he would never allow his heart to suffer pain and loss again. The only thing L had cherished had been his parents, and the boy who by the characters of Moon and NightGod, had been marked as Light. Yagami Raito.

How poetically ironic was the existance of this bittersweet Angel of Death. To love him was to die.

Countless nights had L watched Raito sleep, his round pale face glowed like a small moon, reflecting the light of the real moon outside which in turn reflected the light of the sun; the star that granted Life and Light on Earth - again, how ruthlessly satirical Fate must be. His eyelashes were long, which was strange on a Japanese man, and his hair, a rich brown color that looked black in the dark, contrasted against the white of his flawless skin. His body was perfect, lean and slightly toned but strong. A gorgeous Adonis that could bring down a deity.

No, he was like Lucifer, who had been the most beautiful and bright angel in all of Heaven. A genius who threw away his sanctitude in order to become God and control All. Evil contorted his beauty.

But when his head fell on lush pillows and the night's crickets lulled him to sleep, he was an angel again.

Before L had freed him, Raito would be so overworked during the day that by the time he lay in bed, he immediately fell into deep slumber. L had done this on purpose because when Raito slept soundly, the darkness left his countenance and L could see the old Raito again. L would then close his eyes and imagine his Raito naked, sprawled on his bed, his hair spilling over the white sheets under the moonlight like melted dark chocolate, his eyes so big and dilated they looked like the night sky, vast, dark but sparkling, and fathomless.

Raito, ever the maneuverer, would hold power in submission and moan in every kiss, gasp at every touch, scream from every bite just to make L go mad with desire. Because Raito wouldn’t find weakness in letting go of his cries, no, he would gain more control over his prey.

He could readily picture Raito beneath him, writhing in genuine pleasure as L licked his breasts, arching when L sucked his taut nipples mercilessly until they became raw. Not able to bear the pain any longer, the youth would pull L's hair to bring the older man's lips against his, and bite until he drew blood. An eye for an eye. Then he would lick the wound gently like a caring feline, because Raito liked to mix pleasure and pain. Raito liked to switch between rough and gentle. He was the epitome of a paradox.

Countless nights there were when L found release by his hand alone, as Raito slept beside him, thinking of what it would be like to have real intercourse with the young man. L had performed many ejaculations in his life, but never had they felt so intense, never had his mind reeled from the explosive joy than when it delved into those fantasies where he was privileged with the freedom to touch Raito’s body wherever, and however he pleased.

To make love to this angel’s body that harbored a demon - power-hungry and blood-thirsty, and to make this lethal creature clutch his shoulders with relinquished want, raking his nails harshly intended to break the skin as his legs wrapped possessively around L's waist, drawing him closer – deeper into him, it would have made L weep for the first time in his life with the knowledge that it was just a sweet lie. Raito loved nothing save for pure power. L would make love to Raito, and Raito would use love to reign over L.

Even so, he lacked the valor to risk his dignity for a single chance to explore every inch of Raito's young, tight body; firm and smooth like silk. Raito didn't have a lot of bodily hair, and with such a girly face, L found himself both amused and aroused. Proud Raito would not allow himself to be seen as delicate, and though his masculinity blended with the daintiness of a rose's petals, it was underlined by the deceitful thorns that peaked right under them, prohibiting hands to hold him.

For all the intellect in the world, L had not found the courage to prick his fingers and perhaps learn the secret places he could touch without further damage. Then L could have taken Raito as his own, like Misa never could, like all the women he dated wished they could. Raito felt nothing but scorn for women. He presided like a prince over men as well. The only one Raito could never feel superior to was L, and that was why only L had the ability and right to hold Raito.

But Kira had beaten him to it. A non-existent entity but the manifestation of Godly power, Kira had pervaded Raito's mind and soul.

Soon L would die. Raito had already set up his attack, soon he would strike and there was nothing L could do against it. Checkmate. The Serpent had been too quick.

However, there is one thing Raito was not counting on - that there were others ready to take up the name L. They would know the masterful chicanery to which the great detective had fallen, and they would avenge him - if only to prove they were greater than him. L Lawliet had lived his life all alone. But his legacy was rich.

Raito would fall not too long after L.

Standing on the roof of the Headquarters, he peered at the sky, dark with thick rain clouds, pouring down their condensed particles of water unto the grey world below. What fitting scenery. He heard bells chime in the distance. Bells he had not heard since childhood. They rang of death.

He sighed. Such is deserved of the fool who falls for a smiling serpent.

It is short, but anything longer would belabor it and lose its subtance since it deals with a single idea. If you liked it, kindly review so that I may know I’ve done a good job! (grin)