For the Price of Looking

Rating: M (sexuality)

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.


"And when they came down to him, Elisha prayed unto the Lord, and said,
Smite this people, I pray thee, with blindness.
And he smote them with blindness according to the word of Elisha."

"Don't you trust me?"

It's a stupid thing to ask, Light thinks. It's damned absurd and he might have been insulted if only he wasn't certain that L was being facetious. Nothing is ever so honest between them. There are only goals and the angles used to achieve them. But like a game of tennis or even eating lunch together at university - something that should've been mundane and normal - this is only a pretense. It is a delicate charade so that they might say yes, we're on personal terms or raise the wager and be lovers. Yes, we're very close. Yes, we're very fond of one another. Yes, this is friendship. So when L dangles the cloth in his thumb and forefinger as though it might dirty his hands if he touches too much, Light knows that L is driving the stakes up.

(driving the stakes higher and higher until the fall is sure to be grand and terrible, and the adrenaline of it all is so, so arousing)

Fighting and fucking and dancing a charade for all eyes to see until it doesn't matter anymore. It's not even about winning anymore, not exactly. It's about making the other lose and pay the ultimate price - that's what victory really feels like. So L crouches on the velvet-oak chair, dangling a thick sash of cloth by the thumbs and forefingers of each hand and regarding the teen reconditely. He wants to see what Light is like when he's vulnerable, and he wants to give his Kira no excuse to refuse.

"Well?" the detective prods, stepping deftly with bare feet onto the carpet of the bedroom and stalking over to the other. He hunches in front of Light with a half-smile, reaching a pale hand to run fingertips across Light's forehead and brush away long strands of russet. He has already anticipated what the teenager's answer will be and must ready him for the blindfold. "You know I'd never harm you."

And it's bullshit, more bullshit spat out confidently as though the lies of it might seduce him. "What, this isn't another test to find out if I'm Kira?" Light asks teasingly. He wraps his arms around L's bare waist, playing up the game and smiling as though he hasn't a fear in the world.

L moves his face in and only one emotion is readable in his black-as-death eyes: amusement. "We're living a test, Light-kun," his voice rumbles quietly. "And we're all in the dark until the results are revealed to us."

Being that close, the only rational thing to do is to kiss. L, as usual, tastes of sweetened tea, sweetened enough to block out stale breath and it's easy to forget about either way as they suck against one another's lips. The moment Light closes his eyes to indulge in the feeling is the moment that L sweeps the cloth across his face and ties it securely behind his scalp. The movement is smooth and unannounced, and if Light couldn't feel the thick fabric then he might not have even known that L had moved.

By instinct alone, his hands rush to his own face and he pulls away from L. But the detective takes his hands in his own, locking around the palms and preventing him from grabbing it and freeing his locked vision. After that second, Light takes a breath and looks straight ahead into the nothingness that lies before him. Somewhere in that nothingness is his dear sworn enemy, waiting to pounce and tear him to shreds and dissect him as he dies slowly.

"Take it off and you lose."

There's a circular irony to it, Light supposes as he slowly lowers his hands. Nothing in the act itself will ever prove to L that he was Kira, it won't prove anything except that he was a rational human being. But L wants to know his prime suspect and he wants to see Light in ways that Light can't even see himself, that's how L wants and plans and expects to win. And it's the correct way to do it, too - analyze your opponent where he is blind. He would - will - do the same thing for L, except he plans to do it first.

Light smiles again to prove he's undaunted.

"How is it?" L murmurs. He is close, and Light can feel the warmth of the words against his nose.

"I think you're capable of discerning that," he quips, leaning forward until their noses brush against each other. Intimate for show, but most importantly, he knows where L is this way. "Dark."

"You hate it," he purrs in observation, purrs like nothing has made him so satisfied.

(maybe nothing has, maybe Light means more and-)

Of course he hates it, and he measures the distance in his mind before lunging forward to kiss and nip at L's neck. The movement makes L shiver, something that Light feels with his hands even if he can't see, and L dribbles his own fingers against Light's spine. Each touch is a caricature, like the petal of a gentle, venomous flower. They reach his nape, and the sensation makes Light squirm. Then, suddenly, his hands are grabbing him, choking him, and throwing him down onto the mattress with rough efficiency.

Light awkwardly feels for his body stance, and because his legs are off the edge he bends and plants the palms of his feet on the ground. L encourages, or more accurately, demands the position by pressing down on Light's back until his stomach is ground into the blankets. He twists Light's arms behind his back and pins them in the center.

"Keep them here," L suggests, and the unspoken words also hiss into Light's ears: or you lose the game.

You'll see that I'm not afraid of you.

"I'll stay put as long as you don't bore me."

That earns a soft chuckle, the kind of laugh that L reserves for his most shadowed moments. Even softer footsteps trail away, and Light strains to hear where his nemesis is going. Thankfully, it's only to get the lubricant. Light bites his lip to hold back a moan when two fingers plunge into him, coated with the sensation that was somehow more stinging when he can't see. They massage him with nimble strength, twisting and pressing against a tight ring of muscle that instinctively tries to reject the intrusion. L is slow and he's patient, waiting for the area to settle before teasing the prostrate (a place that he seems to have memorized since the first time, as though he's been doing this forever). Restraining a whimper, Light grunts through his gritted teeth in a huff of breath, which seems to please L enough to add another finger. It's uncomfortable at first (more, Ryuuzaki, I'm not through with you yet-) but after more work his backside begins to relax.

L slides a hand down to Light's groin, which has long since began to throb. His palm cups his balls, teasing him before finally wrapping his fingers around his shaft and beginning to pump. Light moans out loud, despite himself, arching his back and pressing his hips into L's grasp. His heart pulses and the pain in his bottom finally dissipates altogether, though L is still rubbing in the lubricant. Breath comes in gasps, not only his own but Light's keen ears hear L behind him, and he smiles as he senses L's own erection waiting to be appeased.

The pleasures mount high but L slows down, before releasing Light's penis completely. Light is quick to anticipate what will happen next, but L merely becomes lazy in his movements. "Hurry up," he demands evenly, twisting a bit to press his groin against the mattress.

At the command, L does pull his fingers out, leaving Light empty and glaring behind his blindfold. There is silence and Light braces himself for the blow that he knows L will deliver. He tenses, fingers and toes curling, and turns his cheek on the mattress. His eyelids fall closed but the blindness is all the same anyway.

Light waits, breathing, trying to ignore his own burning erection but the more he sees L under his closed lids, the more difficult it becomes.

When nothing happens, Light's face flushes and he wonders if L didn't silently walk out the door and leave him. L might disappear into the shadows from whence he came and be gone, leaving Light to his desire for more and letting it forever be unfilled and without the ability to see for himself.

(and if that happened-)

"You son of a bitch," Light whispers, unwinding his hands from behind his back and beginning to stand, reaching for the blindfold.

Then, suddenly, it all happens in the blink of a blind eye. L grabs each of Light's wrists and slams them back down onto the bed with jagged fingernails digging into his skin, extending his arms until he cannot even bend his elbows. His knees dig into the back of Light's thighs to spread his legs fully and then L pounds into him with a force that makes him yelp, despite his resolutions to remain composed and ready, in pain.

"Ah-ah, Light-kun," the darkness whispers into his ear.

L is only merciful for a few seconds, giving his suspect (his Kira) meager time to accommodate the girth before pushing again, then one more time until Light is sure, dizzily, that it can go no further. The pain does not subside but Light has long since abandoned trying to reason why he wants this, wants everything that L can deal him. Wants to prove that nothing L can do to him will make him fall, Kira fears nothing - and wants it all the more when the thought sends pulses of white-hot ecstasy through his groin. L thrusts into him, over and over, and the unannounced bursts of pleasure send a cry bubbling up his throat. Soon it's so deep that Light thinks he might be blind, even without the cloth covering his eyes.

But in the end, all of this is just a game, anyway. And Light will not - he can not - lose. He gages the rhythmic thrusts, he counts every millisecond until his hips match L's, meeting the challenge. The fierce reciprocation is enough to make L gasp, too, and upon hearing that, Light would have smiled if he hadn't been so far gone.

Climax comes, filling the room with the two hoarse cries of men. The seeds spill, there's stickiness and sweat and the smells of bodily fluids. The rush of his enemy's hot semen filling Light feels like heaven in a dirty, disgusting and twisted way. L is still inside him, making him full and hot and whole, and collapses with an exhausted gasp on top of him. Light does not protest as L's chin falls to the crook of his neck, doesn't say a word as he feels L's heart beating staccato almost in time to his own, finds comfort in feeling L's breathing chest fall against him. L is in him, they are connected, and for one whimsical moment that's worth the world. At least, having L this close, the blindfold impedes nothing upon Light. No, he feels L's presence in every way, feels him like a shadow wrapping around him like a blanket that can both warm and suffocate. That's just how L is (just what L means to Light).

He is struck with the thought that if he's careful, he might be able to see L even if he tears out his eyes himself.

(Actually, the problem might come to be one day, when L is nothing but a gravestone and rotting ash, learning how to not see him.)

-fin


Author's Notes:

-Originally wrote this for a Death Note kink contest, in which the challenge was sensory deprivation (blindfolds). That was awhile ago and I've since cleaned it up and edited it a bit, figuring I might as well post it here.