Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Brilliance Tarnished ❯ Faster ( Chapter 9 )

A/N: As usual, there has been a painfully long delay between updates. I'm sure that you all wish me dead! Unfortunately, aside from still being very busy, I also had some serious writer's block. I hope that it will not continue. I hate it so.

 

 

 

 

 

L ground his teeth furiously as he moved quickly down the hall and away from the room Raito was confined in, biting the tip of his thumb unconsciously. Why did Raito always have to be so impossible--

 

“Sir,” Watari's voice said.

 

He glanced up quickly, realizing suddenly that the older man had been waiting at the end of hall for him. Had Watari seen anything suspicious in his behavior before speaking out? “Yes, Watari?”

 

The older man's expression was inscrutable. “There's evidence from the crime scene that has just been brought to our attention. I'm certain you'll want to examine it. It has already been processed by the police department, which is why we are only now receiving it.”

 

“Where is it?” he asked urgently, moving his thumb away from his mouth.

 

“In the operations room with the others. They are waiting for you.”

 

L rushed towards the room their headquarters was housed in, Watari falling in behind him. The evidence had to be something very important if it had been brought to his attention. He put the encounters with Raito out of his mind, feeling focused and determined for the first time since his escape.

 

He entered headquarters in a rush, noting immediately the evidence bag sitting beside his computer. Ignoring all other life in the room, he bore down upon it, pulse elevating as he saw that it held what looked very much like a Death Note. Close by was another, smaller bag that held what looked like white sand.

 

He opened the bag that held the notebook, carefully extracting it. Carelessly tossing the bag aside, he opened it slowly, holding it with ginger fingertips. Rows upon rows of names were in the notebook, as well as times and modes of death. “This...” he began quietly, mind racing.

 

They had searched Misa's apartment. They had not found the notebook that he held now, nor anything else incriminating. If this was Misa's Death Note, then she had to have hidden it somewhere previously, retrieving it after the search. Or had Raito hidden it for her and returned it during his recent 'conjugal' visit?

 

L felt his jaw clench, the pressure his fingers exerted upon the notebook increasing invisibly. The inexplicable and acidic anger that rose up from the pit of his stomach was unexpected. Not only do you rape me, but you consort with Misa and betray me by helping her, he thought darkly.

 

Logic. Rationality, he reminded himself. He struggled with the confusing emotions, feeling that he was trying to bail rapidly rising water out of a sinking rowboat. Technically, Raito might have been uninvolved in this particular instance. Misa might have been alone in hiding it and retrieving it. With Misa gone and Rem presumably no longer a threat...was Raito out of reasons to withhold his own notebook?

 

L would have to confront and challenge that frightening blend of RaitoKira again in order to find out about that, as well as to ask about the mysterious white sand.

 

“What do you think?” Matsuda asked eagerly from somewhere behind him.

 

“I think...that we are very close to capturing Kira.”

 

“When is Raito coming? I thought he'd be with you.” Matsuda sounded slightly resentful. Embarrassing in a room full of professionals, to say the least.

 

“Why would you think such a thing? He said earlier that he wanted to be alone and rest, and I respected his wishes. He did lose his girlfriend, after all.” L kept his tone cool and even, not bothering to turn around.

 

“Because you're...his close friend! Someone should be with him! I should go and--”

 

“Give it a rest, Matsuda,” Aizawa complained. “It's like you want to be his girlfriend or something.”

 

Matsuda stammered desperately in response.

 

“That's not necessary,” L assured Raito's stupid, would-be victim. “I will check on him later. I think it's best that we leave him alone for a short time.”

 

As he had been alternately listening and speaking, he had been scrutinizing the last pages that had been written upon in the notebook. Interestingly enough, none of the names were ones he recognized, meaning that they...were not Misa's known victims.

 

He closed the notebook, slipped it back into the evidence bag, and sealed it. “Watari, please lock both of these up for me.”

 

“Where are you going, sir?” Watari asked quietly.

 

“To think. Please don't disturb me until I call for you.”

 

Watari's silence seemed disapproving, as if there were suppressed words of chastisement and criticism behind it.

 

He would have to deal with the issue of Watari's suspicions very soon. Yet another thing he dreaded, and only slightly less painful than confronting a confident Kira. But for the time being, he would confront only his own safe bed. But first...he would check on Raito, even if only to slap him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Raito turned over on the mussed bed, annoyed at being left to steep in boredom for the last two hours since the detective had stormed out. He stared at the clock on the wall, frowning. If L's reaction was anything to judge by, he had many more hours of boredom to look forward to.

 

Stupid. Why do you always have to provoke him? he chastised himself.

 

But the answer was plain. When L always gave him the most delectable responses, how could he ever fail to antagonize him? A smile curved his lips sharply as he replayed the tremulous, excited reaction he'd observed in the dark-haired boy when he'd mentioned the night of the 'rape'. Next time...next time, he would make it so pleasant that L wouldn't be able to resist any longer. He would take the detective's body, his mind...and his soul.

 

But it seemed he would have to commit more resources than he had initially planned on in order to achieve his goal. What could possibly persuade his reluctant partner? L was completely his to play, no doubt. No one else could compete with him. But...still, there was resistance that Raito couldn't seem to overcome. How could his former captive sense the game that was being played?

 

Game. Raito examined the ceiling intently, arms folded behind his head as he thought. It was an awfully lengthy game that he played with L now, requiring much effort and endurance. What else did he have to do to make it go his way? He didn't want to stop playing. He wanted for the two of them to engage each other much more deeply. Snaring L until there was no escape so that there would always be this entertainment to look forward to, troublesome as it tended to be.

 

Well, as it should be. Life was so boring without the trouble of L. Could he give up being God for the other boy? Even if he could manage to do that, there was still the issue of Ryuk...and the fact that it was nearly impossible to use the Death Note with the detective on his heels.

 

Raito sat up suddenly as an idea occurred to him. What if...what if he were able to choose those who would use the Death Note? He could at least ensure that they would be reasonably worthy if they were hand-picked by him. In addition, what if he promised his shinigami that he would only choose interesting people to use the notebook, thus being useful in providing a continuous source of entertainment to Ryuk? That might work. Ryuk suffered from boredom as much as he did, after all.

 

As for giving L the notebook that he himself had supposedly used...he could insert the used pages from his own notebook into Misa's and present it to the detective as being the one that they had both used, claiming that they had traded it back and forth and that there was no other. That would allow him to conveniently retain the one that Ryuk had 'given' him in order to fulfill his proposed bargain with the shinigami.

 

He laid back again, feeling relieved. At last, he had a plan of action. But first he had to have enough freedom to access and manipulate the notebooks.

 

Raito heard the lock of the door disengage suddenly and slid out of bed, moving quickly towards the door just as it began to open. Dark, guarded eyes peered through the two foot-wide gap at him. “Raito-chan, I have some questions for you,” L said flatly. “But I can't seem to stand looking at your face right now.”

 

Raito raised his hands tentatively, reaching towards L. “Ryuu, please. I apologize for what I said earlier. You hurt my feelings when you said you didn't want to be near me.”

 

L's eyes flickered with cold resentment. “Indeed. Do you think I would believe that from a consummate liar like you? Who would want to be near you if they knew what you were?”

 

Despite himself, he felt a flash of hurt at those words. It startled him. The taunting retort rose unbidden, hot on his tongue. You certainly seemed to enjoy it. But he didn't say it, perceiving the trap. “Ryuuzaki,” he said softly, lowering his eyes. “I didn't realize that you despised me.”

 

Raito felt the fluid weight of L's gaze upon him, but concentrated on looking hurt. On exposing the real hurt that he felt, although it went against his every instinct. The silence stretched out, and the pressure of being scrutinized suddenly disappeared. He looked up, surprised to find that L was looking away as if trying to avoid acknowledging the hurt that he was so earnestly attempting to exhibit.

 

That was when he noticed that Matsuda was lurking in the hallway, barely within his visual range, looking astounded and scandalized.

 

“Please don't keep me imprisoned anymore, Ryuuzaki,” Raito pled, voice loud enough to carry the short distance to Matsuda.

 

L jerked his head up, staring at Raito perplexedly before turning to look around. Yes, you know that I'm suddenly acting for an audience, don't you?

 

The detective sighted Matsuda immediately. “Please move along. This doesn't concern you.”

 

Raito directed a pleading, doe-eyed look at Matsuda over L's shoulder, but quickly blanked it when his friend turned to glare at him suspiciously.

 

Matsuda frowned, moving closer. “L, why is Raito-kun in--”

 

The door suddenly shut in his face, leaving him alone in the gloom. He strained to hear what was going on outside, pressing his ear to the crack of the door, but he could only hear the rise and fall of voices, not the words. L's voice snapped with command, and there was nothing else to hear after that.

 

Raito sighed, his stomach growling as he stood there. Please, Matsuda, at least bring someone to feed me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

L stuffed donuts into his mouth with single-minded determination, trying to avoid thinking of continuing his confrontation with Raito. He'd had even more trouble sleeping than usual last night, haunted by the very convincing wounded expression that he had last seen on the brunet's face. It wasn't possible to hurt that sociopath. It wasn't possible.

 

“I didn't realize you despised me.”

 

How long had Raito known that Matsuda was there? The 'hurt' reaction had seemed very private and sincere. He didn't think that he had ever seen such an expression, such a quality of expression, on Raito's face without it being twisted and Kira-esque.

 

Recent memories flashed through his mind, and he re-examined all of the seemingly sincere expressions and vocalizations that he had previously dismissed as expert acting. Did Raito actually feel something towards him? Was it even conceivable, or was he deluding himself and falling into yet another trap? The Bermuda Triangle of the other boy's lips, eyes, and hands. A dangerous nowhere place where senses failed and all hope was lost.

 

L shook his head and pushed the donuts aside, feeling slightly ill. It didn't help that the other task force members had been eyeing him strangely this morning, as if there were something peculiar about him that hadn't been peculiar before. Matsuda had been slanting him downright hostile looks, no doubt resenting the way that L had spoken to him last night. Such rancor was unwarranted, really, as nothing he did was anyone else's business, not even Watari's.

 

Unable to endure the irritation anymore, he rose and shuffled out of the room, his feet taking him to 515. He mentally fortified himself before punching in the code and entering. “Raito, if you can be civilized and offer me an apol...” The emptiness in the room arrested his movement, forcing his words to stumble to a halt. “Raito?” he called uncertainly. The room was empty. He stifled the jolt of anxiety that leapt through his body and glanced at the bathroom door. It was open and the room was dark. L flipped on the light and looked inside. No Raito.

 

Withdrawing, he checked the closet. No Raito. Feeling ridiculous, he even knelt to look under the bed, suspicious that the brunet was trying to trick him into leaving an opening for escape. No Raito.

 

Panic vibrated from his center, shivering through him with growing force from a fault line somewhere in his chest. “Raito,” he murmured to the empty room, mind suddenly blank despite his desperate need to think.

 

L suddenly spun and bolted out of the room, pulling his cell phone out to send a quick summoning text to Watari. Watari would know what was going on. Surely, surely he had moved Raito for some reason. He took several deep breaths and slowed to a walk, trying to calm his pounding heart. He couldn't hear anything when it was pounding so furiously like that, couldn't think.

 

He entered the nearest control room and sat down to wait for Watari, checking the video feeds by habit. Nothing unusual anywhere in his area, and nothing that needed to be erased, he was certain. He heard Watari enter and turned from what he was doing to face the older man, trying to appear as calm and collected as possible. “Watari. I seem to have misplaced Yagami-kun.” He smiled weakly, aiming for humor.

 

Watari clasped his hands together before him, looking vaguely guilty. “I apologize for the unexpected change, sir. However, Matsuda-san came to me and expressed some concern about your intentions towards Yagami-san and his confinement. I have also been observing you and have had doubts as to your...impartiality. We have had no reason to continue holding that young man against his will, and regretfully...I have to disagree with your treatment of him. I took the liberty of releasing him early this morning.”

 

A roaring began in L's ears, and he could hear nothing else. “You...released him...” He felt he was gasping for air, unable to breathe. Raito, FREE. His mind raced with the possibilities. Was the brunet already on a flight to another country, where he would vanish into obscurity under another name? It could take...years to find the other boy, if Raito remained cautious.

 

“...very disappointed to find that not only had you removed all video and audio feeds from room 515, but that the expected records were missing. Did you actually tamper with the records, L?”

 

The edge in Watari's typically benign voice broke through, and the roaring in his head receded enough for him to make out what the older man was saying. It provoked a twinge of shame. “I...” he began quietly, unable to justify his actions. Actions stemming from illogical reasons - based on feelings.

 

“What was it that you wanted to hide? Do I even want to know?” Watari's expression was both disappointed and pained.

 

L found that he was biting down on his thumb and hunching into his drawn up knees. He withdrew his thumb from his mouth and tried to hold his caretaker's gaze. Blood was burning in his cheeks as he tried to find the words to deny what he had done more than once with Raito. He opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came out.

 

“I know that you were always so alone,” Watari began gently, reaching out to lightly rest a hand on L's head. “But surely...we could find you someone more--”

 

He inhaled sharply through his clenched teeth, ducking his head away from that pitying touch. “What makes you assume that I have chosen that person for anything of the kind?”

 

There was a painful pause. “It has become...very apparent to me. Matsuda-san had no doubts as to the nature of your relationship with Yagami-san.”

 

“But to...to let him go, Watari.” L wanted to assure Watari that Raito was indeed Kira and that he was not deluded, but to do so would endanger Raito. That truth was not to be shared.

 

He's gone. He's gone. “How long ago was he released?” L demanded suddenly.

 

“About two hours ago--”

 

L shot to his feet, heading for the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Watari demanded, following him.

 

“To--” keep him from fleeing the country, “--apologize and try to mend things.”

 

“Sir, you must let him go--”

 

“No!” he yelled, breaking into a run. He no longer cared what Watari or the others thought. He had to stop Raito if it was still within his power. The irrational feelings had a stranglehold on him, and he found it difficult to question them, difficult to fight the way they directed his actions. They were so...strong.

 

“You bastard!” he growled under his breath as he exited the hotel, plotting out the quickest route to Raito's actual apartment. He had never been there, but he had looked over all of the brunet's information long ago.

 

L spotted a taxi waiting at the curb for prospective passengers and waved it over. It pulled up, the rear door opening, and he flung himself inside, slamming the door. He rattled off the address and the urgency, then sat back in the seat to wait, shoulders tense. It wasn't a long ride to Raito's apartment from this hotel, thankfully, but...two hours ago.

 

He chewed on his lip as an alternative to gnawing the tip of his thumb to a bloody pulp, clenching and unclenching his toes anxiously.

 

Raito kidnapped me and held me hostage, despite the risk. Wasn't that his twisted expression of wanting to be near me? Or was it just the entertainment of the moment to make me helpless, to make me desire him just so he could reject me? Perhaps what he truly desires is to take everything away from me, to try to break me, his only acknowledged equal.

 

The thought curdled his stomach and made him angry. The cute, mocking little offers of a 'relationship' that Raito had been making recently infuriated him. The brunet was just taunting him, trying to deceive him, trying to catch him out. So why was he so desperate to stop his former captor from leaving him behind? It was pathetic.

 

“We have arrived at your destination,” the driver announced, interrupting his thoughts.

 

L dug into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a satisfactory amount before slapping it into the driver's hand and exiting the car as quickly as possible. He raced across the parking lot and up the stairs to the appropriate door - upstairs again? - before pausing to compose himself. An older woman tending to a plant several doors down gave him an odd look before retreating into her apartment, presumably to avoid him.

 

He suppressed his profound embarrassment and knocked, breathing deeply to retain his composure so that he did not appear to have raced to Raito's apartment as swiftly as possible.

 

 

 

 

Raito smiled at the frantic knocking on his door. He set down the teapot he had been pouring from and went to answer in a leisurely fashion, certain of who it would be. He opened the door and was met with a tousled and breathless L, dark eyes wide, face flushed. The stress lines vanished as those eyes assessed him, scanning his entire body as if to be sure that all of his limbs were accounted for.

 

His world seemed to narrow to L's face and form. “Well, hello, Ryuu. How did you know that I was making tea? You're just on time.”

 

An uncertain frown marked the pallid face before him. “You expected me?”

 

Raito smirked bitterly. “Of course I did. You wouldn't want your precious suspect to get away, would you? I also have a goodwill gift for you.” He opened the door wide, motioning the detective inside. “You should have brought Matsuda. At least he'd have a nice greeting and maybe a kiss to offer me.”

 

Obsidian eyes shot daggers at him as their owner passed into the apartment. L paused to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room, seeming uncertain of his welcome. He shot another look at Raito, an oddly vulnerable look. “Why don't you make your proposals for sexual favors and the like to Matsuda, then?”

 

Raito moved towards L, drawing close. “Because he bores me,” he murmured, gazing intently into the detective's eyes. Honestly. Seriously. Without a smirk or a smile to detract from his words.

 

The frown returned, but L glanced away, unable to withstand his gaze. “So where is this so-called goodwill gift?”

 

“I'll go get it.” Raito went into his bedroom to retrieve the recently altered Death Note from its hidden place in his closet. He hadn't had time to return the other, his Death Note, so it was concealed in the false bottom of his desk drawer. Ryuk had come to harass him while he was altering the Death Note; thus he had been able to put his proposal to the shinigami. Much to his relief, Ryuk had accepted, seemingly amused...for the time being.

 

He re-entered the living room and handed it to a very surprised L, who took it quite gingerly by one corner before opening it and flipping through.

 

“But...this is...” L began, looking up at him with confusion.

 

“Yes, we shared this notebook. There was just this one.” He lied earnestly, directly.

 

Those dark eyes were suspicious. “We found another Death Note at Misa Amane's apartment, along with some white sand.”

 

“Ah, that would be Rem's notebook and what remained of her corpse. Shinigami aren't allowed to kill to prolong the life of a human.”

 

L glanced at the notebook he held, flipping through the pages.

 

Raito knew exactly what the other boy was looking for. Misa Amane's name. And it was there. “You have to trust me,” he said quietly. “I only did what was necessary to protect both of us. Misa would have had Rem kill you out of jealousy. I know it.”

 

His former captive looked up slowly, gaze wary and disturbed. “I can't condone what you've done for any reason, Raito. You know that. There was no reason for Misa to be jealous.”

 

He smiled faintly. “Oh, but there was. I called out your name when I used her, Ryuuzaki. I imagined that I was inside of you.”

 

L's face flushed crimson, dropping his eyes to stare at the floor with absolute, single-minded concentration.

 

“I like you best, Ryuu. I've already told you. I was quite serious when I asked you to enter a relationship with me.” Raito leaned close, detecting that L was trembling as he did so.

 

“I should...go,” the dark-haired boy forced out with difficulty, looking towards the door with anxious, cagey eyes.

 

“That's the wrong direction,” he whispered against L's neck, making his reluctant partner flinch against him. He firmly captured a wrist as he kissed L's brow, his hot cheek.

 

“Stop,” L choked out, trying to pull away. The Death Note fell from those long fingers, fluttering to the floor forgotten.

 

“No,” he replied darkly. “You came here for this.” He forced L's head around and held that increasingly panicked gaze as he slowly opened that mouth with his, pressing in deeply. And then, quite deliberately, he closed his eyes and brought both of his hands up to cup the detective's jaw. He felt the startlement of his former captive, the confusion...and then, the slow response. He teased with his mouth, coaxing, entreating, encouraging. As the minutes passed, L's kisses became more heated, more insistent, and that spare body finally pressed against his.

 

Raito separated their mouths reluctantly, resting his cheek against that of his companion as his arms came about the dark-haired boy. “Ryuuzaki,” he whispered. “Are you certain you have no need for intimacy with me?”

 

“Are you mocking me?” L retorted, the sting lessened by the breathlessness of his voice.

 

“No,” he replied honestly. “I was hoping that you wanted me, too. That perhaps you spoke in haste before.”

 

“This isn't the Raito I know.” Caution.

 

“I'm trying to be honest, but I hate it, Ryuuzaki.” Frustration. “You can bind me. If you agree...we'll do things the way you'd like until you can trust me.”

 

A long silence. “I'll give you one chance to show me that you can be trusted and that I wouldn't be insane to consider your proposal. Tell me why you'd want this.”

 

Raito bit the inside of his cheek, irritated. “I don't know, I've never felt this way before. It doesn't make sense...” You're the - the only thing that makes me feel alive. “I'm never bored when you're with me.” I feel like...maybe...being God inside of you is good enough. He felt his face burn with humiliation and embarrassment.

 

“Oh, is that all?” L asked mockingly.

 

“No, you idiot,” Raito snapped, pulling away. “Don't make this any more humiliating than it already is. I didn't disappear, did I? I knew you'd come looking for me, and I allowed you to find me. Would you like to share now?”

 

L crossed his arms, fingers tightening almost imperceptibly where they rested on his long-sleeved shirt. “I have nothing to share, other than to remind you that you are not complying with the terms of our agreement.”

 

“But I gave you the Death Note!” he insisted irritably, trying to probe that blank stare.

 

“You have not been obeying me in the least, Raito. You've been trying to circumvent my conditions at every turn. I think it's time you displayed some good behavior.”

 

“The tea is getting cold,” he murmured, turning away to retrieve the tray and the cups full of tea. As he carried it into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table, he saw L's eyes widen slightly, recognition flashing through their depths.

 

“That's the—” the detective began before abruptly falling silent.

 

“Yes, our tea set. I couldn't leave it behind, knowing how attached you were to it.” Raito made his tone teasing and his smile charming, but he watched the other boy with sharp, assessing eyes, looking for any vulnerability or weakness to the sentimental gesture.

 

L's expression froze for a moment before melting slightly into pained disturbance. Those great dark eyes shuttered and dimmed as his former captive reflected upon something. The detective slumped even further and slowly allowed himself to sink down onto the couch, hand reaching out to take the cup of tea automatically, bringing it to his lips.

 

“I'll never be capable of obeying you, Ryuuzaki,” Raito said quietly. “But I will comply with reasonable requests.”

 

L looked up at him over the cup, frowning. “You must.”

 

Raito smiled apologetically and spread his hands. “Then you know what's left.” He watched the subtle play of emotions over that pale face, the conflict that L was suffering over him.

 

“No more killing,” L said firmly, eyes narrowed.

 

“No, my hands will no longer be sullied with death,” he agreed, bowing his head graciously. No, not my hands. Not directly. He collected his cup of tea and sat down in the armchair opposite the other boy - the better to see and be seen, as well as to allow L a false sense of security. As if a coffee table was any barrier.

 

L sipped his tea continuously, dark eyes rising repeatedly to touch upon Raito's face before sliding away to look elsewhere.

 

Raito, sick of waiting for his former captive to speak, broke the silence. “I have complied with your terms. Now that I have done so, I insist that you answer me on the matter of our relationship. I'm tired of being celibate.”

 

The dark-haired boy glared at him. “As I suggested earlier, if that's the case, perhaps you ought to preposition someone else for this so-called 'relationship' that you desire.”

 

Raito suppressed the hot prickle of his irritation, the urge to flare up at his obnoxious companion. “I'm interested in good conversation in addition to physical intimacy. You seem to be one of the few people capable of providing such.”

 

“Perhaps. If you come back to headquarters with me and behave yourself according to my expectations, I'll consider it.”

 

Raito gritted his teeth. How was it possible for L to regain his composure so quickly? He knew how to dispel it, but forcing the issue here and now might forfeit everything that he was working to achieve. “Fine, I'll continue playing along...for now. But I will have my freedom, and the ability to come and go when and how I choose. No more of your absolute control.”

 

L looked disgruntled at the thought, pausing in his obsessive tea-sipping to gnaw on the tip of his thumb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

L considered Raito's sincerity carefully as he worried at the oft-abused flesh of his thumb. Looking up into those luminous eyes didn't help his decision. Raito was not just a devil, but the devil, and was capable of convincing anyone of anything when he looked like that. 'That' being his innocent, shining look that shimmered just beneath the surface of his perfect skin. He hardly seems human, L thought to himself, disturbed by the impression.

 

Raito continued to watch him, affecting a nonchalant attitude while doing so. “If you please me, I'll make certain that I please you,” the brunet offered sweetly, smirking just the slightest bit.

 

The offer could be taken as being applicable to either behavior or intimacy - or both. L held Raito's gaze determinedly, trying not to imagine letting himself go with his dangerous companion. But if he agreed to the farce of a relationship that the other boy wanted, would it allow him to fall into those damning kisses, to relax into that seductive body without being so afraid? So afraid of betrayal, so afraid of pain, so afraid of losing himself to Kira? Raito would never, ever offer any assurances - he knew that.

 

“No instigating, Raito. If you go back on your word in any way, I'm done dealing with you.” Even as he made it through his even delivery, he wondered if the words were true. The way he felt around the brunet terrified him and made him feel as if he were losing all control. As if the only lifeline he had was ripping through his hands and that he was a heartbeat away from falling into an abyss. Raito meant more to him than was proper, than made sense. Watari was right to say that he couldn't deal with the other boy. He played it calm and cool, but he was not the one in control.

 

“As you like,” his former captor murmured demurely, burnt amber eyes flashing up to spear him keenly from beneath lowered lashes.

 

The look was flirtatious and threatening all at once, and it took his breath away and made his skin prickle with desire. Damn you, Raito. “Are you coming back with me today?” he prompted coolly, feigning that he had been unaffected by the raw, wolf-like expression that he had just been broadsided by. Feigning disinterest in Raito's answer.

 

“I might,” the brunet began breezily. “Provided that you won't be hiding from me the entire time.” That silken voice had just the slightest edge.

 

L glared into those challenging eyes. “Raito, I've never hidden from you before, and I'm not about to start.”

 

Raito drew his fingers across his abdomen, right over the place where the scar would be - the scar that L had given him. Raito's expression had softened into something that almost resembled sadness, sadness with a tender edge.

 

He tried not to flinch in response, recalling well how terrified he had been when he had slashed at the other boy, and how sick he had felt when he'd realized that he had drawn blood and didn't know how serious it was. At that moment, he had gone to hide in the restroom. “Aside from then,” he forced out, voice slightly choked. He damned himself for giving any emotion away to the sociopath sitting across from him.

 

“Do you regret it?” Raito asked softly, so softly that his voice was almost a whisper. The brunet rose, casually setting his tea down, and approached until he was standing in front of L, hips very, very close to L's face.

 

L leaned back warily, turning his face away and trying to avoid contact. “Raito, don't--”

 

Graceful fingers slid across L's cheeks, then forced his head back around. One capable hand unbuttoned that flawless white shirt enough that L could see the equally flawless skin beneath - flawless but for the pink scar that cut across the flesh. “Do you regret it?” Raito asked more firmly, his other hand sliding into the back of L's hair to clench there.

 

L closed his eyes, unable to bear looking at the scar anymore. “I should ask whether or not you regret any of the hurts that you inflicted upon me.” He braced himself for the inevitable explosion, and perhaps the cuff to the head that might follow. He was prepared to take whatever actions were necessary should Raito choose to abuse his person.

 

“I...do,” Raito replied in a hesitant, roughened voice.

 

L was so shocked that he opened his eyes, meaning to look up at that face - but the hand in his hair pushed his face against the hips before him, spoiling his chance. “Raito, why won't you let me look at you--”

 

“You don't need to,” the other boy replied, voice smooth and controlled once again.

 

L closed his eyes again, allowing his face to remain resting against Raito's warm body. Even through the slacks, he could feel the heat radiating from the body that stood so close to him. He thought it amusing that his former captor could be so passionate. So cool, so controlled, so perfect at manipulating everything around him - that was the one thing he didn't regret about the intimacy that they had shared. Intimacy had allowed L those glances into who Raito was when he was unscripted, glances into what his companion truly felt.

 

“If you regret any of it, then why did you do it?” L asked quietly.

 

“This conversation isn't very entertaining,” the brunet replied flatly.

 

He waited, motionless against Raito's body, and focused on the subtle shifting of the fingers that were still wound through his hair.

 

“I don't know,” Raito replied finally, sounding irritated.

 

“You do know,” he insisted.

 

“Because I wanted to get inside of you,” his former captor burst out. “I wanted to know you from the inside out.”

 

L was astounded, even as the words sent chills through him. Something so personal was Raito's motivation? He was fixated upon something that wasn't himself?

 

Raito suddenly went down on his knees before L, a strange, tight expression on his face. “I wanted you to react to me,” the brunet breathed harshly, mouth suddenly meeting and mating with his own.

 

The abruptness of it sent a spike of heat flaring straight through L, scattering his thoughts like shards of violently shattered glass. He was aware of slipping away, of fumbling for his control and his cool through the waves of searing passion that Raito's mouth forced into his. He felt himself being pushed back onto the couch, felt the other boy's long, lean thigh pressing between his even as that mouth devoured all of his sanity. He turned his head away briefly, gasping, and protested, “Raito, you're not supposed to instig--”

 

The brunet's mouth found his vulnerable throat, working his flesh over with teeth, lips, and apologetic, soothing tongue.

 

“Raito, st--” L tried again, desperately attempting to block some of the sensations twisting through his body.

 

Raito forced L's head back around, eyes dark and consuming as they met his. Those lips found his once again, that confident, determined tongue stroking between his compressed lips to explore his mouth again. His will was no obstacle to the monster that pressed him down into the cushions so hard, hips gently keeping a slow, undulating rhythm against his.

 

“Stop it!” he snapped, pushing Raito off of him and onto the floor. He shot to his feet, body desperate and aching. Any further, and... L stared down at the brunet where he lay sprawled breathless on the floor, looking up with dazed eyes. “I said no,” he repeated scathingly to that angelic face. “Can't you wait for even an hour? I thought that the great Yagami Raito had more self-control than that. That's pathetic.” His taunts seemed to strike home, for Raito's expression flickered before becoming sober and shuttered, amber eyes glinting maliciously as they glared up at him. Had that been a flash of hurt that he had seen before that expression changed? Was 'hurt' the new baiting emotion for Raito to imitate?

 

“Oh, you are the expert on self-control, are you not? You kept me from fucking Misa for so long that I suppose I thought that you would do.” Raito's beautiful features sneered at him, mocked him, and discarded him, all in one breath.

 

L clenched his jaw, trying to suppress his reaction to such venomous words, even though they seemed to have taken the air right out of his lungs. He had pricked that ego - this was the inevitable reaction. “Desperate much?” he continued lightly, forcing his voice out past the clenching sickness that he felt.

 

Raito gathered himself and rose, expression cooling into extreme displeasure as he glared at L with Kira's eyes. “If you're done now, I'm prepared to go back to headquarters. I think I'll invite Matsuda out for tea.”

 

“Do,” L replied frostily, trying to act as if the idea pleased him. In reality, however, he regretted his impulsive, distancing words. In his panic at the other boy's proximity and passion, and at his own reactions to those things, he had reached for insults that would give him some breathing space. Something had happened to his control, however, and the rest of it had come spewing out. And right after Raito had perhaps actually been something close to honest, too. He cursed himself mentally. There was nothing that he could do now. He could apologize, but he knew that the brunet wouldn't let it go so easily, and would make him regret ever moment that he breathed.

 

L collected the Death Note from the floor and made his way straight to the door, letting himself out. Raito came out a few moments later, locking the door, and gave him a look so cold that the skin on his face felt frostbitten. “Shall we go, detective? I wouldn't want to keep the task force from their precious work.”

 

He didn't bother to reply, but the feeling of Raito's displeasure only further agitated the disturbance in his body and mind.