When did L get that close?

Light hadn't even noticed L's transition from the bedroom to the chair beside him - he must have crept over silently while he wasn't looking. It was irritating, but not unexpected. L's knees were drawn to his chest as usual, raven hair falling over his porcelain face like a sleek curtain, contrasting with the pale skin. His wide, raccoon eyes were fixed intently on his laptop, resting on the table before them, going through the same information yet again. Light had to admit, as much as he hated the robotic bastard, L was oddly attractive at the most unlikely moments.

How their little games amused Light, their push-pull, cat and mouse antics. The accusations, the battle of wits, planning his moves meticulously to escape conviction - Light wouldn't go so far as to say that he'd been totally in control the entire time, but overall? Things had most definitely worked out his way, and as much as L tried to hide it, Light knew it got to him immensely.

He dipped his head to hide the smirk, mirroring L's slouching posture. The satisfaction Light gained from getting under L's skin, a feeling of total supreme power that only the Death Note compared to, really was deliciously addictive. And L made it so easy, really, it was almost like he welcomed these conflicts. But then, he did have pride and ego that rivalled Light's own. But even so, sometimes Light just wished he could get more... well. More reaction, he supposed. More normal human responses - or even emotions - out of the socially inept little freak, instead of the stiff script of their current arguments which always seemed to follow the same pattern.

And Light especially wished, more than anything, that L would make more noise than that repulsively alluring steady breathing. It annoyed him no end. Sometimes it was just necessary to sink his fist into L's face - just to hear that surprised grunt in his throat, if not the satisfyingly hard 'thump' when his back collided with a nearby wall. Although, if Light was honest with himself, their fights had become so frequent now that even his thrill at that sound was starting to disappear.

So then, Light considered, perhaps he should find other ways of making L lose vocal control. Maybe approach the situation from a different angle. It was logical, after all, that he should try out every option available to him. And the more he experimented, the more likely he was to find a satisfactory solution.

Light's attention was suddenly drawn to the object of his thoughts, who was peering at him out of the corner of one large, shadow-rimmed eye.

Observant as always...

Turning his gaze firmly back to the chart he was supposed to be working on, Light made sure to keep his face a blank, impassive mask. It was kind of unbelievable the way L could read such subtle signs when he had all the people skills of a hedgehog. Either that or he just knew what Light looked like when he was deeply immersed in thought. That seemed more likely, after all, Light knew exactly when L was in the same state. Perhaps it was a common trait among geniuses to recognise these things.

And Light also knew when L was about to break the silence, most likely with a cleverly disguised snide comment of some smug sort, and set off another of their... sessions. Call it intuition or just knowing from experience, but Light could always tell. Something in the atmosphere, maybe. And this was one of those occasions.


Light was half-tempted to ignore him, but then, this may be just the opportunity he was looking for.

"Yes, Ryuzaki?"

"You have been staring at your screen for the past twelve minutes, and yet you have made no further progress on the chart. You also rarely blinked in that time, which indicates you were, as they say, day-dreaming." L paused to slide his thumb across his bottom lip before continuing, "If there is something on your mind that is interfering with your work, please share it."

Ah, there it was. An invitation for provocation. Made to seem as though L cared only because it was preventing Light's work. But Light knew L better than that. The slouching detective was simply curious. As always, when it came to himself.

Light turned to face him, blank expression still in place. "It's nothing for you to concern yourself with, Ryuzaki," he stated firmly, making sure to keep his voice stiffly level in a way that just begged to be challenged.

L gave a small smile. "Ah, you are entitled to your privacy, Light-kun. I asked only because you seemed distracted from your work, and if this were due to a problem of some sort I hoped I may be able to help."

Light smiled back. "My thoughts were trivial, Ryuzaki, nothing of particular importance. Certainly nothing so troubling that I should cease working. I was, as you said, just day-dreaming. I apologize."

L seemed amused, the curiosity in his tone now clearly obvious, "Even so, I would still like for you to share your thoughts with me - to satisfy my concerns - if not for the fact I often enjoy our conversations." He swivelled his chair so they were fully face-to face. "Please. What's on your mind, Light-kun?" L's smile morphed into a sleepy pout against his thumb, and he brought his knees closer to his body as though he was a child settling down to hear a story.

Light smirked at this. It was always so easy to get L's attention. But he could sense this going the same way as always, again. Light wanted- no, needed something different. He was sick of putting up with the same old L - the same pale, emotionless, annoyingly smart asshole that set him permanently on edge and made him feel like he was negotiating mine fields every day. Light wanted to break those walls of L's stronghold so badly, wanted to yank him out of that comfort zone he'd built around himself and leave him as vulnerable and weak as the pathetic people of the world that Light just knew L thought he was superior to.

Light was determined to get what he wanted, but he knew if he wanted new, drastic results, he would have to do something equally drastic. Something he'd never done before, that L would never see coming... something L wouldn't know how to handle.

And before his mind had even registered the course of action, Light was carrying it out: he was leaning forwards, towards the man he hated, bracing himself on the armrests of L's chair, looming over the curved body in a way he hoped looked sinister and threatening.

L certainly seemed surprised - his eyes were, if possible, even wider - but he didn't do anything to resist, merely looked up into the face inches above his own. But it was a start. A very promising one, in fact.

The question now though, was where to go from here. He'd invaded L's personal space - something he'd never done like this before - and he'd got a very refreshing reaction. But it still wasn't enough.

L's breathing was hot on Light's face- was it just Light's imagination, or did its pace seem a little quicker? He let his gaze wander over L's eyes, so black and deep and penetrating, to the high, almost feminine cheekbones, to his lips. Light had never really paid much attention to L's lips before - more often than not they were hidden by his thumb or a fork of cake - but now they were in full view, soft and delicately parted in a way that on anyone else would look gormless.

Light couldn't take his eyes off them. He felt something utterly base stir in his gut, his brain flashed wildly and he wasn't even aware of the reason why he was suddenly kissing L, but it didn't matter because the detective's gasp was reward enough and only served as confirmation that this was indeed the right move to make.

It was only when Light felt strong, resisting hands on his chest that his mind snapped back to reality. L broke their mouths apart roughly, his eyes wild and face indignant even as a light blush rapidly began to spread across his cheeks.

"Yagami-kun! What is the meaning of this?" L looked genuinely shocked, not to mention outraged, and Light was in half a mind to step back from the chair - there was a very high possibility that L would launch one of those flying kicks at his face. Instead, he forced himself to remain calm.

"You said you wanted to know what was on my mind, Ryuzaki." Light smirked from under his fringe.

"Forgive me, I guess I just assumed that you were far too intelligent to do something this ridiculous," L snapped. "It seems I over-estimated you, Yagami-kun."

Light was burning with rage, but he was also enjoying himself immensely. What a result! Never before had he seen L so angry - he'd always thought the older man incapable of such a raw, surging emotion, and yet here it was, before his eyes!

Dare he push it?

"Oh so angry, L! You know, your reaction really is suspiciously dramatic- one might even suggest it was forced, if you know what I mean. Guilty conscience, maybe?"

Light had barely finished speaking before L's foot collided heavily with his chest.

The rest was somewhat a blur. Light could vaguely recall a fist flying here and a thud of a body there, the feel of the fabric of L's shirt straining in his knuckles, and the next thing he knew he was hurtling over a chair and his breath was momentarily knocked out of him by L landing heftily on his chest. And then their limbs were thrashing about wildly as they rolled on the floor, both determined to gain the upper hand.

It was times like this that Light was really reminded just how strong L was. And he was, far more than his deceptively frail and skinny appearance made him out to be. There were definite toned planes of sinewy muscle beneath those baggy clothes and pale skin. But Light was slightly heavier, and he used this to the highest advantage. A sneaky jab in the stomach, and he had L pinned underneath him, spindly legs kicking furiously.

Light paused for a minute to admire his handiwork: a furious L trapped beneath him, face alive with energy and fire and everything that L usually wasn't... yes, this was definitely much more satisfying then anything else he'd done. L, too, stopped fighting and glared up at him in defiance, and those lips parted again, but this time to spit out something deadly.


The smirk Light didn't know he was wearing disappeared from his face immediately. And then L was looking at him with complete and utter disgust, with loathing, and although that was something new, Light didn't like it at all. His stomach boiled with anger and his fists clenched of their own accord around L's wrists, and Light hoped to hell that L could see the hatred he felt for him in his face.

"Fuck you."

"Ah, yes... I bet you want to, don't you, Light-kun?" L muttered, words dripping with poison. "I suspect asserting your dominance over me would be the ultimate high for you, wouldn't it?"

As much as Light wanted to hiss something on the contrary, he didn't. Because he knew, in some totally twisted way, that L was right. Indeed, now that the idea was in his head, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore it. Light could only imagine what it would feel like to have the great and mighty L totally under his control - to have him screaming, moaning, face contorted with pleasure and pain as Light pounded into him...

"It wouldn't be my ultimate high, L - you're over-estimating yourself a little there, I think," Light spat into the face below him. "But I cannot deny that I would love to fuck you..."

"Then do it," L hissed. "Do it just like the God you are- show me your divine wisdom, prove to me your power over all, take me right here... Kira-sama."And L looked straight into Light's eyes and smirked, "I dare you."

Light's jaw was locked in an iron grit of teeth. He'd never felt so angry in all his life. L was mocking him. He was mocking him and everything he'd worked for and his new world, as if the stupid little freak actually knew what he was talking about!

But why did it feel so good to hear L call him that...?

"You want me to fuck you, L?" Light snarled, and within seconds he was on his feet, dragging L up with him. "Fine!" The detective made no move to resist - quite the contrary, in fact - the second Light had him backed up against the table his arms were around Light's shoulders and he was responding to the fiery kiss with just as much enthusiasm, even submitting to the harsh push Light delivered to force his back flat onto the table.

L's kisses were clearly that of a novice, it was obvious he was throwing himself head-first into unknown territory- and it was also obvious that L intended to meet Light's new challenge with the same fierce determination as any of the others. Light hadn't expected any less of him. It had always been Kira vs. L, and it still was even now as their bodies ground together against the flat surface and hips pushed against hips, engaged in a battle all their own. Light's hands were roaming every sharp contour of L's body under his shirt; raking grooves over the taut skin of his stomach, running firm fingertips between the valleys of jutting ribcage, entwining tugging fingers in bizarrely soft hair... and all the while the delicious sound of L's harsh breathing and occasional groans were music to Light's ears.

And Light swore he could feel his heartbeat pounding in his head as L pulled him down for another crushing meeting of wet mouths. He was drunk on too many different sensations - he could barely breathe, hardly think - was running purely on instinct and living on the supremely good feeling of L's lithe, long body arching against his own.

Was this part of the plan?

Light's hands were already at L's jeans seemingly of their own accord, yanking the button open impatiently and dragging them off L's slim hips with such animalistic impatience it shocked even himself. If Light could have panicked now, it might have scared him. He wanted L to lose control, but not if meant losing his own in the process. He'd be damned if L turned the tables on him now-

No. There's no way L was winning this one.

Light had never hated anyone so much. So much that it made him loose all rationality, made him disregard all logic and sanity- made him resort to this. And yet he loved it, too. Loved the fact that L, and only L, could cause it. And he hated that he loved it.

With deliberate roughness Light trailed his mouth lower, sucking and biting into every sensitive area of ivory skin on L's neck, shoulder, jaw. He was going to leave the mark of his teeth imprinted there- everyone would know that L was his, that L had let Light do this to him. L bared his throat in an almost mocking way, muttering something Light only half-heard. Something about yes, Kira-sama and just like that, but Light decided he didn't give a shit about anything that came out of L's mouth.

Well, except maybe that moan he received when he slipped a hand into L's pristine briefs and curled it around the hot, throbbing arousal he found there. L's hips bucked at the first stroke and at the second he was shamelessly arching into Light's hand, and Light wasn't sure if L was doing it by reflex or on purpose to annoy him - his face was unreadable at this angle. Light growled and worked him faster until he'd built up sufficient moisture - no more than was necessary, of course, just enough to ensure a smooth entry - because frankly, he didn't care in the slightest if this was painful for L. He'd wanted this, after all. Perhaps it would be better if it did hurt, maybe that would finally teach the bastard a lesson.

Light smirked and firmly pressed a finger into L, adding another almost instantly, stretching the tender muscle at fast as possible. L grunted against Light's neck; his legs automatically found their way around Light's waist and his hands fisted in brunette locks. Light hissed as L tightened them painfully, in time with his openly unrestrained moans - probably doing that on fucking purpose as well - and in no time at all Light had L bent over before him, stomach pressed hard against the sharp edge of the tabletop.

The sight in itself was breathtaking; Light wanted to burn the image into his mind. He yanked his own hindering clothes down with a certain amount of violence and divested L of his, before taking L's hips in a deliberately painful grasp and pressing his chest against his back. L's torso was rising and falling in sync with his own heavy breaths of anticipation - his slightly sweat-damp hair was tickling Light's nose and Light allowed himself to acknowledge just for a moment how fucking beautiful this infuriating bastard was - before leaning forward to speak.

"Do you still want me, L?" Light muttered dangerously, pausing for a moment to slide his tongue along the curve of L's ear. "Tell me you want me."

L made a noise somewhere between a growl and a chuckle. "I want you, Kira-sama."

It wasn't the reply Light had wanted, but when he finally took L with cruel deliberation the feel of that hot, tight body wrapped deliciously around his cock was more than enough to compensate. Light wasn't sure if he'd voiced his appreciation, because before either of them had time to catch their breath his hips were bucking wildly into L, and L was letting him do it. This had to be total submission - was he finally acknowledging the new God? What else could it mean when his arch-enemy was so willing to drape himself over a table and grunt in a most unrefined way as he allowed Light - allowed Kira - to take him and fuck him hard from behind like Light's own personal whore?

The thought added fuel to the fire in Light's mind and he thrusted even harder, so hard the table lurched forward with the movement, and he craved L's resulting pained moan like an addiction, wished he had cameras and mirrors to document L's break-down in all it's glory. It was then that he wished he could see L's face - see that ethereally defined jaw hanging slack in ecstasy and kiss that blasphemous mouth with which L emitted the power to turn him upside down and inside out and ultimately make him feel like he was going insane every second he was forced to endure it.

It felt so good to be the one capturing L for once, making him writhe and curse and claw frantically at the table underneath him like some sort of wild animal - to reduce him to the level of utter helpless frustration that he put Light through every day simply by existing and being himself and making Light want him so much it made him sick-

He hated him with every single fibre of his body, hated him with the very essence of his sanity, hated him so much the very word didn't do his hatred justice.

And he told L so as well. Screamed it at him I hate you as their hips rocked furiously and his fingernails dug into bony hipbones and the table groaned in disagreement and started to collapse under the pressure. Moaned it at him I fucking hate you as L threw back his head and hissed something that sounded like 'Kira' and spread his legs further to take Light even deeper. Gasped it out I hate you so much even as L tightened around him and the sweat from L's back was soaking through his own shirt and his vision was blurring as his whole body started to ache with desperation...


I hate you!


L's voice seemed somehow distorted, like static from a badly tuned radio. Light wanted nothing more than for it to go away and leave him in peace. It was then that he realized he was in bed, and the revelation he must have been dreaming struck like lightning behind his eyes. He did not open them. A dream. That was all it was?

But it had seemed so real...

Light opened his eyes to find L's staring right back at him, black and wide and soulless as ever. Though not usually disturbed by this (he'd gotten used to it in the time they'd spent chained together) Light found himself bolting upright instantly with shock. The very presence of L - especially when in the inner bounds of Light's personal space - was enough to make him jumpy as a nervous rabbit. L sat back on his heels and gazed calmly at the younger boy with traces of mild amusement whispering at the corners of his mouth.

"You were thrashing about in your sleep, Light-kun." L said by way of explanation.

Light tried to collect himself and give his mind sufficient time to process the information. "I... was?"

"Yes," L responded, obnoxiously cheerful. "You passed out due to exhaustion. I fear we have been working too hard recently."

"Oh. How long have I...?"

"You've been in bed for nearly seventeen hours now," L replied with a knowing smile, and even through dazed bewilderment Light could still sense that something about L was different. He seemed somewhat- well, happy, was the world Light would use. But it was the kind of distorted happy that L wore on his gaunt face that just screamed he knew something you didn't, a kind of superior, smug air of coy self-satisfaction that would be virtually unnoticeable to anyone who hadn't spent as much time with L as Light had.

Light could recall witnessing that expression only a few times before - when the detective would suddenly be hit with a revelation of some sort - and the initial shock he'd first felt at seeing L's eyes light up in a way that actually hinted he was, in fact, human. Either that, Light thought, or L was just simply amused at seeing him reduced to such a pathetic state. He raised a hand to his throbbing forehead to try and stop himself thinking - just for a moment - and groaned as the muscles strained around his shoulder blades.

"Please try and rest, Light-kun," L said in what Light saw as a poor imitation of concern. "I will not ask you to return to the case until you fully recover."

Light was about to protest, but the older man hopped off the bed without further comment and meandered through the door into the main room. Light was in half a mind to yell after him - he wasn't prepared to stay cooped up in bed like some prisoner. He'd done enough of that already. He swung his legs out from under the covers before cautiously rising to stand. The world seemed fuzzy around the edges, and he was a little unsteady on his feet. Swaying slightly, Light made his way after L.

Their 'work room', the room of laptops and cake and crisis and paperwork and coffee. A lot of memories there, both good and bad. L had his back to Light, hunched over his papers and folders on the table, a box of sugary goodies nearby. Wincing as the sweet smell scratched at his heightened senses, Light pulled up a chair and dumped himself down next to L. L looked at him sideways but did not protest. Light was about to enquire further about the circumstances of his passing out when he noticed something.

The surface of the table was shiny and smooth and free of any imperfection, catching the light on its chrome covering as if to show off how flawless it was. On closer inspection, Light found that the whole thing looked bigger and new - the legs were thicker and sturdier and the structure seemed somewhat more reinforced to how he remembered it.

L saw him analyzing the table. "Ah, I had a new one brought in yesterday," he explained with a quirk of the lips. "The old one collapsed and was therefore unusable."

And it was only with L's smirk of confirmation from behind his donut that Light finally realized:

He'd lost again.