Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ PITCH ❯ Concessions ( Chapter 10 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

 

Pitch: (def.) 

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

 

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. They must be challenged.

 

____________________________________________________________< /font>

 

Part 10: (Concessions)

 

L eyed Raito as he returned to the living room, carrying the small pile of his clothes in one arm. "Do you have my phone?" he asked immediately. He would hate for it to fall on the floor and suffer an untimely death or get tossed in the wash, the place it seemed his clothes were headed. And he'd decided that dignity necessitated him using his phone if he needed to, dark looks from the brunette be damned. 

 

Raito opened the washing machine, hidden behind sliding panel doors on the end of the living room opposite the bookcases, and tossed his clothes in.

 

"Wait - Raito, my phone?" he called out as the brunette shut the lid. 

 

Raito looked over at him and nonchalantly pulled the dial that started water rushing into the system. L jumped to his feet, nearly spilling the last third of his coffee. He shoved it onto the couch's side table, and made a mad dash to the sinisterly sloshy sounding washing machine. Prying up the lid had no effect as Raito's spread hand firmly held it closed.

 

"Raito! What are you doing? I need--!"

 

"Oh, this?" Raito asked calmly, leaning casually against the white, whirring appliance and producing L's phone in his other hand. He regarded it with an unimpressed expression and raised an eyebrow at L. "You act as if I was going to toss it in."

 

"Well, I didn't..." L fumbled. "Not on purpose." Still, he couldn't quite shake the suspicion that Raito might have done just that. "I wasn't sure if you knew it was in my pocket..."

 

"Were you expecting a call?"

 

"Ah... not exactly expecting, but I do use this phone for work, so..."

 

Raito smiled disarmingly at him. "There's no need to get all worked up. Here." He held the phone out to L. Not too far, just enough to show it was being offered, and distract L's eyes with the thin V of tanned skin that the gaping robe exposed. Raito pressed the phone into his questing hand, and L dragged his eyes to his face, damning himself for the millionth time for being so pitifully susceptible to staring.

 

L wanted to break the awkwardness he felt in the silence and the shyness that was creeping over him with each passing moment Raito retained his hand. 

 

He was becoming convinced that the brunette actively liked to watch his discomfort.

 

"Um... Raito?"

 

"Are you sure you aren't going to drop it?" the brunette anticipated him. "You seem flustered."

 

"That's--" L switched midstream, deciding an argument of the obvious was worse than useless. "Didn't you say you were going to do something about breakfast?"  

 

Raito released him, smile quirking up at the edges. "Why, yes. Are you hungry?"

 

"I could eat," L said, skulking away from his tormentor and taking residence upon the couch. He felt put out. No matter what he did or said, the brunette seemed to be 10 steps ahead of him. It was doing nothing for his ego. Have I overestimated my deductive abilities all this time? No one should give me this much trouble. But then, maybe Raito was merely a special case?

 

Even so, he was fast feeling the need to secure a sense of victory in his dealings with the brunette.

 

He flipped his phone open while Raito went into the kitchen, and scrolled through his messages. 

 

Aiber.

 

Aiber.

 

Watari.

 

Tch. Sakizawa wanting to discuss the terms of their contract.

 

Aiber.

 

Aiber.

 

Aiber.

 

What the hell was Aiber being so insistent about lately? Wasn't it enough that he was being unbearably annoying by stealing one of L's better-paying clients?

 

L skipped his messages for the time being, and read the Sakizawa mail in more detail. I really should have called him yesterday... But Raito had completely derailed that plan on a grand scale. L frowned. It was also true that fighting Aiber off was almost too tiring to bother with. He nearly seemed to take it as encouragement to be a bigger pain in the ass.

 

Watari... Watari... He scrolled up to the older man's communications.

 

Apparently, Aiber was calling incessantly, asking to speak with L. Watari was prone to exaggerate sometimes, as Aiber annoyed him as well; but it was a few calls, in any case. L had never been more glad that Aiber did not have his cell number. It started out as a small way to irritate the blonde man, proving that L could remain hidden if he chose, and that Aiber did not have the means to track him down. It was a point of contention for the man that he was limited to emails and Watari if he wished to contact L, and that suited L just fine.

 

Watari also conveyed that L's recent behavior was becoming a cause for concern. He actually said he was disappointed in L for failing to keep in proper contact.

 

L's mouth twisted slightly and he chewed distractedly on his thumbnail. He could understand what Watari was saying.... but at the same time, he did not feel the desire to disclose his whereabouts at every given moment, especially lately. It wasn't as if he knew what Watari was doing every second of every day. Surely the man did not want to be bothered when he was with his lady friend, or when he was out on dates or whatever it was they did together.

 

Wasn't he allowed to separate from work at least a little?

 

(You've been gone a lot lately) the voice in the back of his head informed him snootily. (And what work you have been doing is not up to your usual standard. You lack focus.) 

 

L was starting to hate that voice.

 

Watari begged him, at the least, to speak to Aiber in whatever fashion he chose, so long as it would get the man out of his hair.

 

L thought a minute and sent Aiber a message:

 

Work me a miracle and get Sakizawa back in my court, then we'll talk. Please stop contacting Watari, he's a busy man. L

 

He went about clearing some of the older messages out of his inbox which was almost at its capacity. Old jobs, dated comminucations with colleagues, way too many messages from Aiber though they came in fits and spurts... The guy really liked to focus on harrassing him when the thought crossed his mind. There could be months in between, or weeks, but on occasions it was much more incessant.

 

He stared at the recent, unopened Aiber mail, and considered just deleting them unread. They couldn't possibly be that important, and he was getting tired of the pestering. If he lost Sakizawa, fine. He didn't need to keep reading smug taunts about it. In any case, Aiber would be loath to return anything he'd taken - it should slow him down. 

 

L's phone buzzed in his hand, making him jump, and a new mail popped into his inbox. Aiber.

 

The hell? Why's he up at this hour?

 

L opened the message. It read:

 

You wound me, L. The old man and I get along famously. There is no need to sow ill-feelings where none exist. Perhaps if you were to convey your number like a proper person might, third parties could be easily excluded. Just a thought. The limitations of email in those rare instances that you are away from your computer are profound. 

 

Another dig at his preference for computers over people. And, a not so subtle demand for his number? Ha. Bite me. The message continued:

 

Also, I seem to recall telling you that I would not take Sakizawa, therefore he is not mine to return. Surely it is a miracle you ask of me. To what do I owe the honor of doing impossible things in order to not be ignored?

 

A.

 

L decided not to reply to him just yet. The man was holding too closely to his games, thinking he had the upper hand. Time and lack of a response ought to break that.

 

Back to Sakizawa... L composed an email to send to the man.

 

Sakizawa-san,

I regret that my workload has kept me from contacting you properly in these last several weeks and that is by proxy and email alone that we have kept in communication. If it is convenient for you, I will call your office later today to discuss the terms of your contract and address any concerns that you may have. Please accept my deepest apologies. 

L 

 

Whether Aiber decided to be useful or not, L still needed to make the call and being polite and apologetic couldn't hurt. It was good practice. Besides, it's not like he had to mean any of it. Another reason why phones were inferior to the internet - phone calls allowed people to detect your insincerity. 

 

It was a shame that voice scramblers still made so many people uncomfortable.

 

L looked up from his phone to see what Raito was up to. He could detect movement in the kitchen, but the partial wall that lay between the kitchen's two entryways only allowed him to see form through the upper portion's hazed glass. 

 

Curiosity pried him off the couch.

 

The pants he wore had no pockets so, after a moment of deliberation, he placed his phone on the end table and picked up his coffee mug.

 

A kitchen in use was a foreign environment to L. He edged around the corner once he'd realized the brunette was actually cooking, and tried to stay as unnoticed as possible for fear of making something explode. Cooking was not in his repertoire. Like magic and chemistry, the processes were unknown and unexplored and explosions seemed a likely scenario were he to intrude. He didn't mess around with it.

 

He stealthily put his mug down on the extended counter that server as a table, contemplating more coffee as he watched Raito do something with a pan.

 

It looked complicated, and rather like making pancakes on an inverted pan which rested upon a device which plugged into the wall. The brunette glanced up, blowing L's cover, and before he could retreat...

 

"Here, stir this," Raito said, pushing a large bowl and a metal spoon into his hands and instilling a reaction very close to panic.

 

"What?" Just having the implements in his hands seemed to be swaying him dangerously close to the land of cooking. Who knew what might happen? He'd once set the stove on fire by trying to make store-bought cinnamon buns. Granted, it was the packaging and the turning of the wrong knob that caused the top of the stove to erupt in flames, but the buns themselves emerged blackened and suspiciously close to charcoal by the time he'd been able to retrieve them. There were other instances as well, but he liked not to think of them. On more than one occasion, he'd burned off his eyebrows.

 

"Stir?" Raito prompted, making a swirling motion with his hand, then turning back to whatever else was more demanding of his attention.

 

L looked down at the bowl. It was filled with white. Sour cream? A heavy, whipped cream? Yogurt? Without an accompanying item, he had no idea. He balanced it in one arm, wincing at the coldness of it, and stirred the spoon in an awkward motion while he silently prayed for nothing to catch on fire. 

 

Despite himself, L leaned to the side to try and catch a glimpse of the source of the chopping noises and other things he was hearing.

 

"Stir that faster, Lawliet," admonished him without looking up. "I can hear you slowing down. It must be brisk."

 

Brisk? 

 

L bit his lip and attempted to stir faster than before. His motions were a little choppy, due to unfamiliarity and the bowl was starting to wobble in a precarious fashion.

 

I didn't sign up for this...

 

"Oh, and don't drop it," Raito added, "Or we'll be going out for breakfast."

 

Right. No pressure. You've just given me the pivotal item to try and not destroy...

 

10 minutes, or an eternity, of 'brisk' stirring later, Raito relieved him of his burden. L's frazzled nerves sang and his arm was grateful to stop moving as he sank down onto a stool at the counter and took a deep breath. Nothing had ended in fire, he hadn't dropped the bowl, and nothing had exploded... yet. There was still time. But for now, he was the cause of no disasters and it was a good feeling.

 

He wanted to ask what Raito was making, but balked at causing any distractions. He could wait. He'd know soon enough.

 

A little while later, the brunette brought two plates to the counter that L was sitting at.

 

L looked on in astonishment as one was placed before him. "Are these crêpes?" The thin, golden, pancake-like items were folded in half and filled with fresh, sliced strawberries and bananas covered in a light syrup and the mysterious white stuff he had been stirring. 

 

"You've had them before? I thought you might like them since you favor sweets."

 

"I love them, but I haven't had any since coming to Japan." 

 

He cut into one and took a bite, nearly melting as the flavors and textures, expertly balanced, danced over his palate. The syrup tasted faintly of brown sugar, the fluffy white was some kind of whipped cream which had been augmented with a few other things to make it more complex, and it seemed as if there was a thin layer of jam spread along the inside of the crêpe to deepen the flavor. It was heaven. He'd never had one that tasted so good, aside from when he was living in France. 

 

"You eat them in England?"

 

L nodded, still overwhelmed by Raito's artistry. He'd thought the brunette had been bluffing about being able to cook. "They aren't the same as the way the French make it, but..." Oh, crap. He glanced over at Raito who was smiling smugly.

 

"I knew you were British," he said victoriously, taking a bite of his own meal.

 

L let him have that win without too many hard feelings. It was a small price to pay for such amazing food. He'd start his own style of interrogation soon to try and even the score.

 

He hung on to that thought until he had worked his way through the first crêpe and on into the second. It was hard to stop, even just to ask a question, they were so good. "So, where did you learn to cook like this?" Raito couldn't fault him for information digging. After all, he was the one who'd started it.

 

"France."

 

L stopped mid-chew and gave Raito a baleful glare.

 

"What? You don't believe me? Or are you requesting further elaboration?"

 

L nodded at option number two and waved his knife in a small gesture for Raito to continue.

 

"It's a bit of a long story."

 

L swallowed his mouthful of sugared strawberries and cream, fixing Raito with a challenging stare. "I'm sure you'll manage," he said. It was about damn time he heard something of the brunette's background and he didn't particularly care if the story lasted all day. 

 

"More coffee?" Raito asked, testing his patience with an amused gleam in his eye.

 

L felt a pained expression cross his face. "For the love of..."

 

"Oh, you make it too easy," the brunette chuckled. "But really, more coffee?"

 

"...Sure."

 

Raito reached over to the coffee pot and refilled his cup, dumping in a liberal splash of creamer and 5 spoonfuls of sugar. "It's abhorrent how much sugar you take in your coffee," he commented pleasantly.

 

"Thank you. It's a tolerance I built up to make people violently revolted with me. It cuts meetings drastically short on a good day. Why isn't it working on you?" 

 

"I'm not simple-minded."

 

"Ah."

 

"All right," Raito said, making himself a second cup of coffee as well. "So, I'm sure you've noticed that my father and I do not always see eye to eye?" 

 

"Mmmhmm," L said around his renewed efforts to devour his breakfast, quite satisfied that the brunette was finally speaking.

 

"A lot of it has to do with his dream of having his son follow in his footsteps and joining the police force. Unfortunately for him, the idea does not appeal to me."

 

"What does that have to do with France?"

 

"It was a minor rebellion," Raito said ruefully. "In order to avoid the entrance exams for the police force, I enrolled in a culinary school upon graduating. A classmate of mine was returning home to France and it just happened to coincide. He offered me free room and board with his family for the following 9 months." 

 

L raised his brows. "In exchange for what?"

 

Raito rested his chin on his hand and regarded him with a flavorless expression. "I thought we were discussing where I learned to cook?"

 

We are, but... L really wanted to know what would prompt someone to offer such assistance. Could there have been a physical agreement? Was seduction involved? 'A classmate' didn't sound like the two had been particularly close friends... He got the feeling that if he pressed for more information, though, the brunette would clam up. "Sorry," he said. "Go on."

 

"Anyway, the intent was rebellion, as I said. My father was furious, demanding that I come home at once and do my duty. I refused. He then proceeded to tell me how I had made mother cry, and what a disgrace I was, and all of that. I ended up staying there for nearly two years, though I did keep in contact with my mother during that time. After culinary school I began studying law. Being away from home gave me that liberty, and I only returned after securing a position in the political division of my choice." Raito paused and took a sip of coffee.

 

"In Tokyo?" Raito could have gone anywhere in Japan... "Purposely in Tokyo?" Why escape his father's influence only to come right back?

 

"Yes. I admit, I wanted to rub it in his face a little." Raito's reddish-amber eyes were watching him, dissecting his reaction. "You disapprove?

 

"No, I wouldn't say that..." It did seem rather vindictive though. Was that a substantial part of the brunette's personality? He'd seen the tension between father and son and witnessed the brunette doing things to intentionally antagonize him. He couldn't very well say he approved of it...

 

"It doesn't matter," Raito said shortly, rising from the table. He disappeared through the doorway and L could hear the sounds of laundry being switched over. It was that abrupt manner again... Raito was displeased. L got up and put their dishes in the sink. 

 

Perhaps now is the time to...

 

"Raito?" He spoke loud enough to carry into the other room. 

 

"Yes?"

 

L paused a moment, deliberating. "How did you know that I was a detective?" 

 

He desperately wanted to know, but it wasn't something that he could bring up on all occasions... He couldn't ask in front of Raito's parents for instance and, most of the time, Raito himself afforded too intense a distraction for him to keep all his questions in mind. Sure, he could always look into it himself, but he wanted to hear it from the brunette first. If that turned up nothing, perhaps he would see if Aiber rubbed elbows with anyone in Raito's circle. That would be a last resort though. Involving Aiber was usually more trouble than it was worth.

 

To L's annoyance, the phone rang and Raito was walking back into the kitchen and picking it up before he could get an answer. "Hello?" Pause. "How am I supposed to know that? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Raito's eyes flicked to the coffee pot's digital display. "Nearly five is right. And what did I tell you the last time you called this early?"

 

L blinked as Raito held the phone out from his head with a long suffering expression and the muffled squeal of, "Daaaaaaaaaaaddyyyyy!" could be heard on the other end.

 

Raito put a hand over his face, and gingerly put the phone back up to his ear. "Yes, Chairman." A long pause. "No, Chairman." Pause. "I apologize, I just woke up." Raito listened for a moment and said, "Yes, sir, I understand that. I did not intend to upset her, nor wake you." His expression grew darker, though his voice did not reflect it. "Please, put her on and I will apologize."

 

L was astounded to see Raito bow and scrape to anyone. It did not look like it sat well with him. Chairman... could it have to do with work?

 

"Misa, I wasn't yelling at you, you know that, right?" 

 

Raito held the phone out from his ear again. "Please calm down," he said into the speaker, ear piece still at a safe distance.

 

It sounded like the brunette was hearing an earful of angry, feminine ranting, though L couldn't make out the words. 

 

Raito sat back down at the counter, resting his elbows upon it in a put-upon manner. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and seeming to recollect himself. 

 

"Misa," he said a few moments later, in a low voice that L had become increasingly familiar with over the last several days. It bordered on sensual and the effect it had was instantaneous. The other end of the line fell quiet and Raito was able to put the phone back to his ear. He turned his back on L. "I'll make it up to you... whatever you want." 

 

L chewed his lip as Raito's voice slipped more firmly into a silky, convincing tone, as he murmured assurances. What was his relationship with this person?

 

"Anything at all, it's yours." Pause. A throaty laugh. "Of course. Until then."

 

When Raito turned around to hand up the phone, L fully expected to see the usual lascivious smile and playful eyes that went with that voice. Instead, any expression of that sort was in the tail end of falling off of the brunette's face as he slammed the phone on its cradle. "I hate women," he announced darkly and stalked out of the room.

 

---

 

Raito fumed. How was I supposed to know the Chairman was back already? He should have figured that Misa wouldn't call so early again, for something stupid, and risk pissing him off unless she had a backup. Chairman Amane had been out of town on business for the almost the entirety of the past week. According to his secretary, he was getting back tomorrow.

 

I can't believe she set me up!

 

Successfully!

 

Unfortunately, Misa was baggage he could not cleanly be rid of. Her family was too well known and had too many connections. Dating her previously had been good for a great many things, but none of them pertained to spending time with her. They'd known each other somewhat in high school, and when she'd approached him shortly after returning to Japan he hadn't had a reason to refuse. She was nice enough, pretty, he'd just had no idea how incredibly bored he would eventually become. It wasn't entirely her fault, they just did not have anything in common and she could not engage him mentally to any degree - unless it was to challenge him with avoiding her twisting his arm.

 

He tried not to hate her - it made dealing with her more difficult. But he despised being backed into a corner and having to resort to base measures in order to secure her cooperation. She and plenty of other women he had to deal with... they were all swayed by charm, whether it was sincere or not. He supposed it was his special skill.

 

But Misa... it was an especially bad thing to have to resort to it with her. Her unrequited feelings were a bomb waiting to go off and it had been quite a feat thus far to keep her attentions redirected to her current boyfriend. But still, he had to be so very careful. She would drop the man in an instant if she thought Raito would have her, and her suggestion-dropping left no doubt as to her willingness to be unfaithful to the son of Congressman Ito.

 

It was a bloody mess, and if anything reflected badly upon the Amane name, or if Misa was not kept reasonably happy, the Chairman could make his life hell.

 

Now he was roped into this.

 

He grabbed clothes from his closet to throw in a garment bag, and clothes he would be needing for the day.

 

Fucking women.

 

Now that he was back, the Chairman would be using him as a lackey again, borrowing him from the office to shake hands and make a few deals, as always. But now he would have Misa hanging off of his arm at the functions as if she held some sort of claim to it... It would only stir the ill will Ito's son already harbored, and make people think of himself and Misa as a couple - especially in the time after work was officially done.

 

A couple. It suited everyone but himself. The Chairman wouldn't mind having me under his thumb. 

 

Raito gritted his teeth. He was ascending the ranks fast, but the Chairman had such a foothold, he was hard to avoid.

 

Really, it was only inevitable that this situation would arise, one way or another. The Chairman liked clipping people's wings. Especially those who he felt had potential. He would hobble them with menial work, cripple them with his influence, and keep them close at hand. Then, no matter how far you got on your own, he could always yank you back by the chain around your neck.

 

This past year, Raito had been doing very well for himself. Very well indeed. And the chain around his neck was getting tighter. Always at pivotal times, he was called away to handle something trivial for the Chairman, undermining him in his work and making him resort to relying on others in his division to see things through. Some of the idiots in his division thought it was favoritism and were jealous - seeing the Chairman as a way to advance their careers. They were fools. Those with half a brain, his competitors, were having a field day of it, scrambling to increase their own standing off of his efforts.

 

It won't last for long.  

 

He was making allies and strengthening his own reach day by day. More and more important people were coming directly to him, entrusting him to get them what they wanted. A little longer and the Chairman couldn't cage him.

 

But until then, he had to make the bastard happy, and make Misa happy.

 

A fucking date... If only the Chairman liked Ito's son more and thought him capable. That would be convenient. ...likely she'll be looking for more than just dinner. 

 

Chairman Amane had once told him that he hoped Raito would make an honest woman of Misa. Raito had informed him politely that they were no longer dating. 'Be that as it may,' he'd said ambiguously, implying that the two of them were continuing to be intimate or that if they weren't, it was only a matter of time. He had a high opinion of her irresistibility to the opposite sex, and in some ways saw that as a bargaining chip.

 

The old man was probably hoping Misa would get knocked up, providing him with a steel collar he could snap around Raito's neck.

 

"Raito?"

 

He turned to see his dark-haired guest loitering in the doorway, a frown on his face.

 

Lawliet.

 

His soft jags of black hair and deep, dark gaze tempered some of the frustration Raito was feeling. His pale, lithe body was such a sight for sore eyes, bringing him back from the previewed hours of hell he had to look forward to. It was as if he had already lived through the torturous day and had struggled through to find that there was actually a light at the end of the tunnel. Lawliet was truly the opposite of Misa in all ways. Intelligent, attractive, unfettered by the the drive to rise in power and affluence, not fixated solely on appearances, desirable...

 

Damn it, he'd wanted to stay, to have more time to explore the recalcitrant man... But he couldn't call off now. Now he was stuck with the rearrangement of any plans he might have had. All because of her.  

 

"What was that phone call about?"

 

"It's nothing." And now, thanks to Misa, a complimentary dose of strife had been introduced between them, crumbling his momentary respite and killing the more relaxed atmosphere they had finally achieved. 

 

Lawliet's look transmuted into a glare. "It didn't sound like nothing."

 

"Just a last minute change in plans," he said dismissively, tossing a few more things into his bag. There was no way to explain it, and it had galled him to have to take that call where the dark-haired man could hear him. It would sound bad, of course, and that was part of why he was pissed off. It had actually been inordinately difficult to pull off the act this time, too. He'd had to put Lawliet's presence from his mind, white everything out, in order to focus wholly on being convincing.

 

"What sort of plans?" Suspicion was beginning to suffuse his voice.

 

"It's work."

 

"I thought you said you were a political lobbyist?" It increased.

 

"I am."

 

"Oh?" the other man challenged. "It sounded to me like you're more of a male escort with a foot in politics."

 

Raito turned. "Is that what you think of me, Lawliet?" he asked dangerously. He narrowed his eyes and advanced on his guest, noting the wavering of that insolent look. Was it borne of jealousy? he wondered. 

 

He backed Lawliet against the wall, pushing close as he slammed his palm upon it, and relished the brief unveiling of complicated emotion that advanced like tiny whirring gears in his expression. "Is it?" he said darkly, reveling in the sudden breaking of resolve he saw in those endless eyes, the trickle of uncertainty as they closed and Raito's mouth descended on his. 

 

Nothing like her, he thought, nothing like anyone.

 

Something in Lawliet drew him in, laying to rest all the obligations and entrapments, calming and grounding him as long as he could have him like this.

 

Raito kissed him thoroughly, aggressively, pressing against his body as if he could melt within it.

 

Oh, it was jealousy, wasn't it? What else could taste so very sweet? What else could make Lawliet waver so deliciously between resisting him with tensed muscles or caving in with with heated cheeks and quickened breath? 

 

Raito pulled back enough to speak. "It's only work, I swear it," he said, taking Lawliet's face between his hands, savoring the flush of color on his pale skin, and the way he averted his eyes. He laid slow kisses upon the flushed cheeks, delicate eyelids, bruised lips, even as pale hands tried to loosen his hold.

 

"Stop," Lawliet pleaded, unable to turn his face away. "That doesn't make any sense."

 

"It's work," Raito said again, placatingly, running his hands up through ink black hair and tilting Lawliet's face for another soul-stealing kiss. Nothing but work. How could I want her?

 

---

 

Raito silenced L at every turn, invading his mouth, his mind, suppressing the questions with conquering kisses that left L flailing.

 

Work you say... but what did you agree to??

 

Why would you use that voice?

 

The brunette's hands in his hair were undoing him. Running through the dark mess of it, then holding his head still for more punishing kisses.

 

Why do you always avoid answering?

 

He couldn't stand his lack of control over his own body, or the way his thoughts turned towards parting the brunette's robe, of undressing him. 

 

"Meet me after work, Lawliet," Raito said against his mouth. 

 

"Why should I?"

 

He was ignored. "10 o'clock or so."

 

"No." Why so late? Is that really right after work? "No," he reiterated to the look on Raito's face. I won't be jerked around.

 

"Please?" 

 

Raito slid that word through him like a slow, deep-seated thrust, one that could be felt all the way to his toes. His eyes slid shut against his will and all he could do is shake his head. No, damn you.

 

"Please, Lawliet."

 

There was that word again! That rare word that made Raito sound like he was requesting, not demanding, maybe even on the edge of begging (in an extremely dignified way, mind you). Oh, and coupled with the unfair use of his name in that tone! His traitorous head was actually nodding this time.

 

"I'll be looking forward to it," Raito said, and L could feel the smile against his lips as he was kissed. Rewarded.

 

Argh! It will serve you right if I break in while you're gone and get into your secret room. Let's see you turn that into an experience you can make go your way! L scowled at Raito as he was released from the strength-sapping power of his full lips. Just you wait. 

 

"On one condition," he got out, feeling a spark of triumph as Raito's eyebrow rose. 

 

"There's a condition?" 

 

"Yes," L said doggedly as Raito's eyes colored themselves amused. "You tell me everything I want to know."

 

"I can hardly tell you everything, Lawliet," the brunette chided him with a smile, tracing a hand down his chest and following it with his gaze. "Would you disclose the same? Tell me every little thing I wished to know?" Cherry-amber eyes flicked to his, shading to that warning look. 

 

"How did you know that I'm a detective?" L persisted.

 

Raito relented. A little. "Does the name Aiber ring a bell?"

 

"What?" L stiffened in surprise. Aiber? Aiber?! He actually hired Aiber to find out about me? "Oh, that's it! I'm done." 'God' and the Nazi were in cahoots.

 

He struggled out of Raito's grasp, but the brunette fought him and held him back down. "I think he likes you," Raito said to his resistant ears, speaking fast as if to mitigate the blow of knowledge before L could escape, a little breathless from the task of keeping L still, "or at least holds you in high regard. He said he doesn't disclose information about his colleagues."

 

"But that's exactly what he did - as soon as he said that!" Aiber, you fucking idiot.

 

"You know that he actually took payment and then said he would have to determine whether it was appropriate to give me further information?"

 

Raito's voice was calm, conspiratorial, indignant - not the voice of a deranged stalker. It was far too reasonable, too normal to instill alarm. L sagged against his pinned arms. "Not surprised," he muttered. "That's just like him - he's a swindler." 

 

"Oh, so he didn't contact you?"

 

"He emailed me some rubbish about meeting him for drinks or dinner or something but, then again, he was also gloating over stealing one of my clients."

 

Raito focused in on him with a heavy stare. "Such an invitation? Is that typical?"

 

L knit his brows and chewed lightly on the inside of his lip. Do I even know what is typical for Aiber? Other than being annoying, that is... "Well, I must say it is unprecedented..."

 

"Do I have to worry about this man? Or should I kill him and save us both the trouble?"

 

L jerked, staring at Raito with wide eyes. Such plainly uttered words - possessiveness snaking through them... Raito's hands were tight on his wrists. Would he actually--?!!

 

Raito smiled disarmingly. "I'm joking, Lawliet." He paused, raising an elegant brow. "Unless of course, you happen to be interested in Aiber?" There was a dangerous lilt to the question, offsetting his previously assuaging tone.

 

L shook his head violently, quite unsure if the brunette was really joking or not.

 

Raito's face slipped back into an indulgent smile. "Good, everyone's happy then." He thought a moment. "Well, everyone that matters."

 

L spoke up, "I'm not happy that I can picture you carrying out that threat." It was against his better judgement to go there, but he wasn't feeling all that reassured and hoped that by prodding, he might receive a more tenable response.  

 

"You're too easy to rile up. It's only my superb acting skills that make it seem feasible."

 

L tested the grip on his arms, carefully. Raito appeared to be stronger than him. He stepped out on a limb and said what was really on his mind, "How do I know that's not the real you, and the acting is what makes you seem like you might possibly be in the realm of well-adjusted?"

 

"My, aren't we being honest?" Raito said drolly as he released him. "I suppose you can't know, it's something you'll have to take on faith."

 

L frowned and rubbed his wrists. "I'm not sure I like that."

 

"That's life."

 

L frowned harder, not particularly enamored of the brunette's curt, dismissive tones. "If you ever kill me in my sleep," he warned ominously, "I'm going to come back and haunt you." Testing... Testing...

 

"That sounds delightful."

 

"See, that's where it would be better for you to deny the likelihood." Raito was too blasé. How was that not suspicious?

 

"How boring. Do you want me to respond in the expected, appropriate manner every time?"

 

"Once in a while might be nice."

 

Raito shrugged off his reply and went back to packing, shutting down his laptop and shoving it and the mouse into a leather case. 

 

"Who is Misa?" L asked stubbornly, circling back to the original topic, refusing to be stymied by seduction tactics. There seemed to be a growing pattern there... Ask a question, get kissed senseless. Not to say it wasn't fairly effective... 

 

"Careful, Lawliet," the brunette said lightly, "or you won't have anything left to ask me tonight."

 

"I'm sure I'll think of something," he said dryly. He was getting wiser to the evasions as time went on. "What is she to you?"  

 

"Baggage," Raito said promptly, not meeting his eyes as he added the laptop case to the things on the bed, his expression growing frustrated. 

 

"Well, let me applaud your earlier acting then. It sounded much more complicated and intimate than that." 

 

Dear god, I'm acting jealous. I still think he might turn out to be a deranged serial killer and I'm jealous? What is it - being in Raito's vicinity is enough to inspire insanity? His parents are obviously cracked, his sister probably is, too, and I am not far behind.

 

"Your clothes should be dry soon. I need to take a shower." Still, Raito was moving around the room, going about his business, barely acknowledging him.

 

L gritted his teeth. I'm not at your beck and call to be summoned and dispelled at a moment's notice! And who the hell is Misa?? Baggage? A left-over relationship? A continuing one? Was she the reason 'after work' was as late as 10pm? "I can't believe this," he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.   

 

He wrenched open the dryer and began changing into his slightly damp clothes.

 

"What are you doing?" Raito sighed, having followed him out. "They're still wet--"

 

"Only as wet as my clothes were the last time I left here, what's the difference?" He pulled on and buttoned up the jeans, the wet cloth giving him a little difficulty.

 

Jealousy, huh? He didn't like the feeling. He was also growing increasingly pissed off that Aiber and Raito had had anything to do with each other. Aiber was an asshole, L should have expected the Nazi to agree to research him for someone. But Raito? To hire someone to delve into his personal life was outrageous, topped only by Raito's belief that he was entitled to do that while also withholding details about himself. Pertinent details.

 

"You're acting jealous," Raito remarked blithely, folding his arms across his chest.

 

"Why would I be jealous? I'm pissed off. First one thing and then another. I have no reason to believe anything you say." It was grossly inappropriate to do what Raito had done, but for him to have managed to recruit none other than the bane of L's career was appropriately over the top. "Aiber," he stressed again, unable to capture the magnitude of his incredulous disbelief. "God."

 

He brushed past the brunette, who was starting to bear the beginnings of a frown on his regal face. L grabbed his red and black cell phone off of the table. He'd missed a message. Aiber, of course, who else? He flipped open the phone in irritation and read the mail. It was sent about 10 minutes after Aiber's last message, the one which L had decided not to reply to right away.

 

Don't ignore me, L. I know you're still there. A. 

 

Fuck off, he sent back. 

 

So it was uncharacteristic of him to be so short and crass. He didn't care. Aiber had finally gotten on his last nerve.

 

"Who are you talking to?"

 

L snapped his phone shut and looked up. "None of your business. I'm leaving."

 

Raito looked like he was holding in his initial response to that, maybe grinding his teeth a little. "I'll see you at 10."

 

"If I feel like it," L tossed over his shoulder, heading for the door. He had no reason to uphold that schedule, and he was too beside himself to deal with the brunette. Possibly for a while. He was already composing the words he was going to strangle and kill Aiber with, and devising schemes of unholy hell to unleash upon him, bothersome to carry out or not. The blonde man had gone way too far.

 

---

 

Raito was biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. That damn phone, it drove him crazy! None of my business?? "I'll see you at 10," he managed to get out in a normal voice, reminding the dark-haired man of what he'd agreed to.

 

"If I feel like it." 

 

Raito strode after him and grabbed his wrist. "10, Lawliet." He couldn't let this mutiny go unchallenged. He had to maintain some sort of control. 

 

Flat black eyes regarded him arrogantly. "I never said I was free, and you never asked if I had any plans."

 

"Do you?"

 

"What are you doing until 10?" Lawliet challenged in response, refusing to give an answer unless he was answered first, and in the way he wished.

 

Raito wanted to growl in frustration. He couldn't be more specific. "It's work, I told you." It's not like he wanted to be around Misa, and Lawliet's anger towards him on the matter was ridiculous. She was nothing. And while it was encouraging that the dark-haired detective might feel jealous, the timing couldn't be worse. The phone call had been horrible timing, the Chairman's early arrival had been horrible timing, and the agreement he'd been forced into had been horrible timing. Compounding and compounding.

 

"Right then," Lawliet said. "So you attend to your matters, and I will attend to mine. If I conclude them in time, I'll consider coming by."

 

Consider it? It sounds like you are entirely brushing me off.

 

They locked stares.

 

Raito decided he needed a change in tactic. Lawliet could obviously be quite stubborn when he was set upon it, a trait that he had been noticing was on the incline. The challenge of it was both maddening and engaging. 

 

It would be best if he pulled back and continued to think of this as a game. If he got too involved in things, it muddied his view of the proper moves to play. It was a good thing that Lawliet could defy him like this. It proved how different he really was, and his anger only displayed that he would be too invested to completely leave things as they were.

 

I musn't be impatient.

 

I must act like I am in control, even when I am not.

 

"You're right, Lawliet," he said, dropping his eyes as if being demure and only then releasing his hold on Lawliet's damp, black sleeve. "I shouldn't have assumed your assent meant anything in such a situation." He ran a hand through his hair and fabricated remorse. "It was... tasteless of me." He glanced up after a moment of silence.

 

Lawliet's expression had shifted slightly, still dissecting him coldly, while at the same time looking slightly uncomfortable. The ghost of a blush lurked upon his cheeks from Raito's very intentional reference to intimacy. 

 

Oh, yes...

 

Just like this, I can take you apart.

 

"I just wanted to see you again," he elaborated, a touch of misery in his voice. "I don't mean to keep making you angry."

 

Lawliet was frowning at him, his eyes softer but no less guarded. "I think you know what made me angry, and it wasn't that." Still, his feet were firmly planted on the floor. He was willing to negotiate.

 

"I do, and I'm sorry that there isn't enough time to go into it properly right now." It was Misa that galled him, more so than the knowledge that Raito had taken steps to have him researched. Oh, jealousy, what a thick noose you are. "I shouldn't have been so abrupt." 

 

Dark eyes searched his face. "You still maintain that this is about work?"

 

"Yes, and it is more complicated than I first let on... but I can't explain it just now or I'll be late." And what a torturous affair that will be - explanations. And what exactly should I tell you, Lawliet? Just what is and isn't acceptable to you? 

 

"Would you like your shoes before you go?" he asked politely, having noticed evidence of his guest's ill-prepared flight.

 

"Ah..." the dark-haired man looked away, embarrassed and shifting slightly from foot to foot. "Yeah."

 

"I'll go get them," Raito offered. He was very pleased with the turnabout. So, it took extraordinary effort to make Lawliet eat out of his hand... it was not impossible, even at times like this, and it was worth it. 

 

He found the shoes in the bathroom where he'd last seen them and brought them back to the foyer, placing them in front of pale feet.

 

He rose as Lawliet put them on with a look of concentration. 

 

"...Thanks," his dark-haired guest said quietly. He stood, rubbing at the damp sleeve of his arm while he looked away and said awkwardly, "And...ah... thanks for breakfast... it was nice."

 

Raito leaned in to steal a quick, chaste kiss, sensing a weakening. It was a pressing of lips that was done before it could be denied, but left him wanting more. "You're welcome," he said with a small smile, secretly drinking in the hesitation he'd placed in those dark eyes, the uncertainty and self-doubt. "I'll see you soon," he added by way of goodbye as he steered his guest to the door, careful this time not to quantify it with a time. Lawliet would come back to him, be it 10pm tonight, or much later on. 

 

____________________________________________________________< /font>

TBC

 

A/N: Mind games.

 

Raito has trouble connecting to people in a normal way... it's always head games with him. It comes to mind that a simple "I like you" could go a long way. Oh well, at least he uses his manipulations in a positive (pr0n inducing) way. You can still kick him though, if you want.

 

One wonders if the police force would really be as trying as Raito's political career. Out of the frying pan and into the fire?