Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ PITCH ❯ Possession ( Chapter 20 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: selena281 
Sorry about this chapter having issues displaying... I'm not sure what happened. Thank you, passing reader for calling my attention to it so I could re-upload. ^__^
Anime/Manga: Death Note Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Romance / Angst / Drama / Comedy | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.07.2010 | Updated On: 01.30.2011 | Pages: 6 | Words: 8.4K | Visits: 415 | Status: Work In Progress
Sorry about this chapter having issues displaying... I'm not sure what happened. Thank you, passing reader for calling my attention to it so I could re-upload. ^__^
Anime/Manga: Death Note Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Romance / Angst / Drama / Comedy | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.07.2010 | Updated On: 01.30.2011 | Pages: 6 | Words: 8.4K | Visits: 415 | Status: Work In Progress
PITCH
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Light x L
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Part 20
L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU
A/N: I was really happy recently to reconnect with someone I thought I'd lost forever. Old scars just cover wounds that never really heal, and sometimes the only balm for regret is closure. Don't disappear on people! It causes them trauma when they really care about you.
Ha! One of these days the author's note is going to be about the fic. <3
P.S. Listen to the band Mesh. I command you.
Ha! One of these days the author's note is going to be about the fic. <3
P.S. Listen to the band Mesh. I command you.
Disclaimer: (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)
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.
Part 20: (Possession)
"You think you're so clever," Aiber sneered, rounding on him. "But there are more tools than cleverness that are needed to survive in this world."
"Brute force?"
"I see nothing at your disposal here but your own two hands." Aiber advanced on him, steady, sure, menacing. Lightning fast, his hands closed upon a sleek, tanned throat. Raito's face remained rather calm as his neck was squeezed, a marble statue of stoicism aside from the wince of discomfort. The sheets barely covered his nakedness as his body tightened in resistance. "Which of us do you think has the advantage now?" Aiber asked him, triumph and malice riding the low tones of his voice.
There was a thundercrack of sound, and Aiber's hands loosened.
"That," Raito said, as Aiber slid from him onto the freshly adorned white sheets, making them red, "would be me."
...
L awoke with a start, breathing hard, the sound of a gunshot still ringing in his ears. He flailed mentally, sure when he saw the unmarked sheets that the dream was merely a dream, but unsure of whether the loud crack of sound hadn't been reality.
Raito was absent.
The white topsheet of the bed was also absent.
Actually, the entire bed was in disarray, the comforter was twisted up and half dragged off of the bed on Raito's side.
Something felt strange. Exceedingly so. And the feeling increased the longer L looked around.
It was nothing painfully obvious. Mostly everything seemed in order. Furniture was as orderly as the room was barren.
"You think you're so clever," Aiber sneered, rounding on him. "But there are more tools than cleverness that are needed to survive in this world."
"Brute force?"
"I see nothing at your disposal here but your own two hands." Aiber advanced on him, steady, sure, menacing. Lightning fast, his hands closed upon a sleek, tanned throat. Raito's face remained rather calm as his neck was squeezed, a marble statue of stoicism aside from the wince of discomfort. The sheets barely covered his nakedness as his body tightened in resistance. "Which of us do you think has the advantage now?" Aiber asked him, triumph and malice riding the low tones of his voice.
There was a thundercrack of sound, and Aiber's hands loosened.
"That," Raito said, as Aiber slid from him onto the freshly adorned white sheets, making them red, "would be me."
...
L awoke with a start, breathing hard, the sound of a gunshot still ringing in his ears. He flailed mentally, sure when he saw the unmarked sheets that the dream was merely a dream, but unsure of whether the loud crack of sound hadn't been reality.
Raito was absent.
The white topsheet of the bed was also absent.
Actually, the entire bed was in disarray, the comforter was twisted up and half dragged off of the bed on Raito's side.
Something felt strange. Exceedingly so. And the feeling increased the longer L looked around.
It was nothing painfully obvious. Mostly everything seemed in order. Furniture was as orderly as the room was barren.
The sparse room looked utterly normal in the dim light. Desk, chair, laptop, all were as they'd been left. Still, his eyes skimmed the room, searching for something. Something else to build a case for his unease or prove it to be unfounded. It isn't like it's the first time I've had a vivid dream and woken up like this. His eyes swept Raito's side of the room once more, over the lamp and bedside table, this time noticing something different. There was something the size of a thick marker on the otherwise bare surface. It was black and actually, on closer inspection, appeared to be a pen flashlight. It wasn't his own, or course. Could it be Raito's?
What need would he have for a flashlight?
Why would he have brought that over...?
L's mouth turned down slightly in thought. He was reaching for the device when he heard the door open.
"I see you've finally woken," the brunet said as he slid into the room. His presence commanded L's attention and, like always, L felt the magnetic pull that turned his head and eyes to follow every flicker of motion. Raito drifted up to the bed, bathing in L's focus and keeping it from escaping the steel hooks of his lazy amber gaze. "I'm starting to wonder how it was that you ever suffered from insomnia. You seem to get quite enough sleep when I'm around."
L frowned, a subtle change in the nuance of his typically flat expression. Was it his imagination or was there some suggestiveness hidden in that dismissive tone?
L bristled at the implication that Raito's fierce sex drive and prowess might be so taxing upon him that it would unwittingly be a cure for his insomnia. "As I am not in control of my own sleep patterns, nor my work schedule," L returned, "it's likely that I'm just not being mentally stimulated enough to feel the need to stay awake."
L knew he was probably the only person in the world who would dare to infer that The Raito was boring. Be it true or not, the brunet needed to be taken down a peg, despite the risk involved in doing such a thing.
The dawn was painstakingly slow in illuminating the room, but L could easily see the sharp look that flashed over Raito's face before being smoothed with a dangerous smile.
"Or is it just that you are feeling fatigued after being stimulated in ways with which you were previously unacquainted?"
Well, there you have it, he just came out and said it. "I hope that isn't a veiled attempt to flatter yourself."
"There is no need," Raito gave him a condescending look that radiated smugness. "You give me your wordless affirmation every time."
L made a noise of disgust. Raito was being more snotty than usual this morning. It was rather unfortunate, and harder to deal with than usual, seeing as last night...
...well, he probably shouldn't think of last night. If he did, he might show Raito some telltale flush of mortification or something which would feed that boundless ego. L thought it was amazing he had survived at the hands of such stamina. He had no idea what had gotten into the brunet. Minutes had blurred into hours, pleasure and pain had slipped in and amongst each other, and the sound of taxed breaths and sinfully uttered words were the soundtrack to which he'd lost himself over and over.
Raito was right in that way - stimulation of the sort which he'd long been unaccustomed to was wearing him out. But who wouldn't pass out after all of that?? And why in the hell was the brunet looking so perky this morning? He was typically awful with mornings, being generally lethargic, scattered, and mussed. Had he snuck coffee? It certainly looked like he'd had time to shower...
Raito's silky hair was dark with the water still drying upon it, errant drops gliding slowly over the skin of his bare chest and torso. L hated to think of him walking around the house like this, shirtless, wearing nothing but his slightly low-riding slacks and looking like he might do a strip tease at any moment. It wasn't very proper. It wasn't the sort of thing a 'friend' would do when staying over.
Dammit, why does he still look so good to me, even after all we--?
"You know, Lawliet, I was trying to be more accommodating of you and opted to lose the towel," Raito said as he slid upon the bed. L's heartbeat picked up and he knotted a fist in the sheets as the brunet drifted closer. Raito tipped his face up for inspection, and the firm fingertips under his throat seemed to be feeding from his pulse. "But now that just seems like a waste, what with how you're looking at me."
L turned away, his eyes closing against the feelings of agitation and turmoil. Is there no end to this desire? Have I become sick in this short time? Lips brushed his exposed neck, enticing and wrong. There should be nothing left to call to, no lingering arousal left in the tired, spent shell of his body. But it was Raito, and with him, L never seemed to find himself short of reactions.
"It's presumptuous of you to freely use my house while you stay here," L said in a roughened voice.
Raito pulled back slightly and L's eyes opened to follow him.
Instead of looking irritated, as L had expected, there was a knowing smile flickering at the edges of Raito's sensual lips. "It's almost cute how hard you still fight me. Do you feel compromised, Lawliet?" His voice dropped into a husky whisper, his eyes laughing, "Or maybe you like being broken down every time against your will?"
Anger and affirmation flashed white hot behind L's eyes.
Bastard, he thought acidly.
"Get out of my way, I want to shower," he said, breaking Raito's hold on him at last. It was like suddenly being able to breathe again. Like cool air breaking apart the swamping heat that had bound him in place like a lecherous cage.
It wasn't running away - the shower merely offered him freedom. Though it would not offer him escape from his tired, bruised and aching body.
---
As soon as Lawliet vacated the room, Raito was able to breathe easier. It was getting harder and harder to hide things from the detective. He'd seen the supposed insomniac's demeanor as he'd entered the room. He'd been searching for something. His pale, lean body had been tensed in concentration, his head swiveling to take in every detail in the room around him.
Thank god I can still distract him in certain ways...
Raito wet his lips, still feeling the urge he'd had to kiss his companion. The problem was, he was almost as distracted by such diversions as his intended victim, which made them infinitely less effective. It was darkly amusing at times. Such a thin line of control it was to keep Lawliet in check, and keep himself in check as well. Surely, at some point, he was bound to fail. He retrieved his item from the bedside table. And then where will we be? he mused.
He pocketed the pen flashlight, and made his way over to the closet, relieved once more at his impeccable timing. Lawliet had been mere seconds from having it in his hand. He would have noticed the farce of it.
Oh, it worked, of course. He took it back in hand again and shined it through the closet door which was slightly ajar. It was a perfectly functional flashlight.
There was a dull gleam as the LED beam caught on a wave of gold and the duller blue of an unfocused iris.
"You really have been a pain in my ass," Raito murmured companionably as he dropped to his haunches and shone the light unflinchingly into Aiber's eye. "I dare say you have made me work harder than my actual job at times."
It really had been a pain in the ass to deal with Aiber this time. He'd let the blond fool think he had the upper hand, had let the foreigner's fingers wrap around his throat, but then he had him. Aiber was much too close and high on his triumph to notice the pen flashlight waiting in Raito's hand like a restless viper. He'd been much to close to pull away as the stun gun connected with his skin in a lingering 80,000 volt kiss.
The current on this particular model was also strong enough that in those few seconds, the large man had been rendered unconscious. It wouldn't do to have him up and about. He needed securing. He needed to be taught a lesson.
It was a pain dragging him off of the bed without awakening the bed's other occupant.
Luckily, the detective really was dead to the world and unable to do more than twitch at the cracking sound of the stun gun.
Raito felt a lascivious grin spread across his face. It had really been something to be able to be able to wear Lawliet down to the bone - to make him come over and over again until his dark eyes grew hazy with exhaustion and to feel the weakening of his shaking limbs each successive time. It had been utterly liberating to wring passion from that body and his own until there was nothing left but self-satisfaction and the sweet lull of drowsiness calling to him.
He decided he loved the sound of Lawliet's voice when it was hoarse from overuse. He loved the feeling of that resisting body finally giving up and giving in. He loved the feel of Lawliet's hands digging into his back and later, merely twisting into his hair, too spent for anything more. He wanted it all. Needed it all.
Lawliet was a drug on which he'd gladly overdose. And he was sure as hell not letting Aiber get anywhere near him.
Just the thought of anyone touching what was his...
"Wake up, asshole," Raito said in a cutting voice, cuffing Aiber in the head. He was growing too impatient to wait now.
The blue eye's pupil dilated and constricted before squeezing shut.
Raito picked up a sock from the closet floor and shoved it into Aiber's mouth. He didn't care if it was clean or dirty. The only thing of importance was that Aiber be disallowed speech. He was still punchy, which made it not much of an issue, but Raito needed him contained for a little while yet. He'd already bound the man's arms behind his back with an ethernet cable he'd found loitering in the closet. He'd wrapped it tight enough to be uncomfortable, and looped it around Aiber's torso as well. There would be no working it free. Aiber would stay like this until someone else decided otherwise. He would not be leaving under his own power.
The blond man would be unable to change his situation with his own two hands. As it should be.
---
Aiber lay in the confined spaces of the dark closet, still trying to piece his mind back into something more stable than jello.
He had not seen this coming. He hadn't noticed the inconspicuous stun gun either until it was coursing an electric current through his body like the stabbing of millions of wicked little needles. The next thing he knew, his muscles were contracting painfully and disorientation swamped him like a fog. He remembered falling but not hitting the ground, the bed, or whatever he might have landed upon.
He let out a slow breath, trying to collect himself. The unpleasant taste of cotton filled his mouth from the sock that had been shoved inside it, his neck felt strained by the awkward half-upright position he was propped up in, and there was something digging into his side just under his ribs. It was likely a shoe.
His vision was still off - he could see enough through the crack in the closet door to verify that - but it seemed to be improving little by little.
Any attempts to sit fully upright were foiled by his swimming head and the unhelpful weak twitching that was all his body seemed capable of at the moment. He should be utterly pissed over this, but he found that took energy he did not have. He settled for irritation and wondered if he might be able to sleep this off.
What need would he have for a flashlight?
Why would he have brought that over...?
L's mouth turned down slightly in thought. He was reaching for the device when he heard the door open.
"I see you've finally woken," the brunet said as he slid into the room. His presence commanded L's attention and, like always, L felt the magnetic pull that turned his head and eyes to follow every flicker of motion. Raito drifted up to the bed, bathing in L's focus and keeping it from escaping the steel hooks of his lazy amber gaze. "I'm starting to wonder how it was that you ever suffered from insomnia. You seem to get quite enough sleep when I'm around."
L frowned, a subtle change in the nuance of his typically flat expression. Was it his imagination or was there some suggestiveness hidden in that dismissive tone?
L bristled at the implication that Raito's fierce sex drive and prowess might be so taxing upon him that it would unwittingly be a cure for his insomnia. "As I am not in control of my own sleep patterns, nor my work schedule," L returned, "it's likely that I'm just not being mentally stimulated enough to feel the need to stay awake."
L knew he was probably the only person in the world who would dare to infer that The Raito was boring. Be it true or not, the brunet needed to be taken down a peg, despite the risk involved in doing such a thing.
The dawn was painstakingly slow in illuminating the room, but L could easily see the sharp look that flashed over Raito's face before being smoothed with a dangerous smile.
"Or is it just that you are feeling fatigued after being stimulated in ways with which you were previously unacquainted?"
Well, there you have it, he just came out and said it. "I hope that isn't a veiled attempt to flatter yourself."
"There is no need," Raito gave him a condescending look that radiated smugness. "You give me your wordless affirmation every time."
L made a noise of disgust. Raito was being more snotty than usual this morning. It was rather unfortunate, and harder to deal with than usual, seeing as last night...
...well, he probably shouldn't think of last night. If he did, he might show Raito some telltale flush of mortification or something which would feed that boundless ego. L thought it was amazing he had survived at the hands of such stamina. He had no idea what had gotten into the brunet. Minutes had blurred into hours, pleasure and pain had slipped in and amongst each other, and the sound of taxed breaths and sinfully uttered words were the soundtrack to which he'd lost himself over and over.
Raito was right in that way - stimulation of the sort which he'd long been unaccustomed to was wearing him out. But who wouldn't pass out after all of that?? And why in the hell was the brunet looking so perky this morning? He was typically awful with mornings, being generally lethargic, scattered, and mussed. Had he snuck coffee? It certainly looked like he'd had time to shower...
Raito's silky hair was dark with the water still drying upon it, errant drops gliding slowly over the skin of his bare chest and torso. L hated to think of him walking around the house like this, shirtless, wearing nothing but his slightly low-riding slacks and looking like he might do a strip tease at any moment. It wasn't very proper. It wasn't the sort of thing a 'friend' would do when staying over.
Dammit, why does he still look so good to me, even after all we--?
"You know, Lawliet, I was trying to be more accommodating of you and opted to lose the towel," Raito said as he slid upon the bed. L's heartbeat picked up and he knotted a fist in the sheets as the brunet drifted closer. Raito tipped his face up for inspection, and the firm fingertips under his throat seemed to be feeding from his pulse. "But now that just seems like a waste, what with how you're looking at me."
L turned away, his eyes closing against the feelings of agitation and turmoil. Is there no end to this desire? Have I become sick in this short time? Lips brushed his exposed neck, enticing and wrong. There should be nothing left to call to, no lingering arousal left in the tired, spent shell of his body. But it was Raito, and with him, L never seemed to find himself short of reactions.
"It's presumptuous of you to freely use my house while you stay here," L said in a roughened voice.
Raito pulled back slightly and L's eyes opened to follow him.
Instead of looking irritated, as L had expected, there was a knowing smile flickering at the edges of Raito's sensual lips. "It's almost cute how hard you still fight me. Do you feel compromised, Lawliet?" His voice dropped into a husky whisper, his eyes laughing, "Or maybe you like being broken down every time against your will?"
Anger and affirmation flashed white hot behind L's eyes.
Bastard, he thought acidly.
"Get out of my way, I want to shower," he said, breaking Raito's hold on him at last. It was like suddenly being able to breathe again. Like cool air breaking apart the swamping heat that had bound him in place like a lecherous cage.
It wasn't running away - the shower merely offered him freedom. Though it would not offer him escape from his tired, bruised and aching body.
---
As soon as Lawliet vacated the room, Raito was able to breathe easier. It was getting harder and harder to hide things from the detective. He'd seen the supposed insomniac's demeanor as he'd entered the room. He'd been searching for something. His pale, lean body had been tensed in concentration, his head swiveling to take in every detail in the room around him.
Thank god I can still distract him in certain ways...
Raito wet his lips, still feeling the urge he'd had to kiss his companion. The problem was, he was almost as distracted by such diversions as his intended victim, which made them infinitely less effective. It was darkly amusing at times. Such a thin line of control it was to keep Lawliet in check, and keep himself in check as well. Surely, at some point, he was bound to fail. He retrieved his item from the bedside table. And then where will we be? he mused.
He pocketed the pen flashlight, and made his way over to the closet, relieved once more at his impeccable timing. Lawliet had been mere seconds from having it in his hand. He would have noticed the farce of it.
Oh, it worked, of course. He took it back in hand again and shined it through the closet door which was slightly ajar. It was a perfectly functional flashlight.
There was a dull gleam as the LED beam caught on a wave of gold and the duller blue of an unfocused iris.
"You really have been a pain in my ass," Raito murmured companionably as he dropped to his haunches and shone the light unflinchingly into Aiber's eye. "I dare say you have made me work harder than my actual job at times."
It really had been a pain in the ass to deal with Aiber this time. He'd let the blond fool think he had the upper hand, had let the foreigner's fingers wrap around his throat, but then he had him. Aiber was much too close and high on his triumph to notice the pen flashlight waiting in Raito's hand like a restless viper. He'd been much to close to pull away as the stun gun connected with his skin in a lingering 80,000 volt kiss.
The current on this particular model was also strong enough that in those few seconds, the large man had been rendered unconscious. It wouldn't do to have him up and about. He needed securing. He needed to be taught a lesson.
It was a pain dragging him off of the bed without awakening the bed's other occupant.
Luckily, the detective really was dead to the world and unable to do more than twitch at the cracking sound of the stun gun.
Raito felt a lascivious grin spread across his face. It had really been something to be able to be able to wear Lawliet down to the bone - to make him come over and over again until his dark eyes grew hazy with exhaustion and to feel the weakening of his shaking limbs each successive time. It had been utterly liberating to wring passion from that body and his own until there was nothing left but self-satisfaction and the sweet lull of drowsiness calling to him.
He decided he loved the sound of Lawliet's voice when it was hoarse from overuse. He loved the feeling of that resisting body finally giving up and giving in. He loved the feel of Lawliet's hands digging into his back and later, merely twisting into his hair, too spent for anything more. He wanted it all. Needed it all.
Lawliet was a drug on which he'd gladly overdose. And he was sure as hell not letting Aiber get anywhere near him.
Just the thought of anyone touching what was his...
"Wake up, asshole," Raito said in a cutting voice, cuffing Aiber in the head. He was growing too impatient to wait now.
The blue eye's pupil dilated and constricted before squeezing shut.
Raito picked up a sock from the closet floor and shoved it into Aiber's mouth. He didn't care if it was clean or dirty. The only thing of importance was that Aiber be disallowed speech. He was still punchy, which made it not much of an issue, but Raito needed him contained for a little while yet. He'd already bound the man's arms behind his back with an ethernet cable he'd found loitering in the closet. He'd wrapped it tight enough to be uncomfortable, and looped it around Aiber's torso as well. There would be no working it free. Aiber would stay like this until someone else decided otherwise. He would not be leaving under his own power.
The blond man would be unable to change his situation with his own two hands. As it should be.
---
Aiber lay in the confined spaces of the dark closet, still trying to piece his mind back into something more stable than jello.
He had not seen this coming. He hadn't noticed the inconspicuous stun gun either until it was coursing an electric current through his body like the stabbing of millions of wicked little needles. The next thing he knew, his muscles were contracting painfully and disorientation swamped him like a fog. He remembered falling but not hitting the ground, the bed, or whatever he might have landed upon.
He let out a slow breath, trying to collect himself. The unpleasant taste of cotton filled his mouth from the sock that had been shoved inside it, his neck felt strained by the awkward half-upright position he was propped up in, and there was something digging into his side just under his ribs. It was likely a shoe.
His vision was still off - he could see enough through the crack in the closet door to verify that - but it seemed to be improving little by little.
Any attempts to sit fully upright were foiled by his swimming head and the unhelpful weak twitching that was all his body seemed capable of at the moment. He should be utterly pissed over this, but he found that took energy he did not have. He settled for irritation and wondered if he might be able to sleep this off.
No need to get worked up when there is nothing I can do.
The thought occurred to try and gain L's attention when he next entered the room, but then would come the question of why he'd been here in the first place...and just why Raito had decided to accost him.
---
L scrubbed at himself in the shower, irritation crawling over his skin. This was his own house, wasn't it? Shouldn't he have some final say in things? Some final say in something??
With Raito, he always felt at a disadvantage. It peeved him, as that was something he was most certainly not accustomed to.
His skin burned with the heat of the water and his own determined scrubbing. He gets the better of me and then taunts me with it. I hate that.
And he seriously wants me to live with him? To give up any illusion of control I still possess and put myself in his domain, willingly, so that I have even less to work with and no time to regroup?
Work - he thought testily, warming to the argument - I need to be left alone in order to work...
(He has a job, too, and it isn't as if you couldn't work while he's gone) another part of him pointed out.
I need a space that could be my own...
(He's probably considered that)
I can't stand this constant nerve-wracking attention from him.
(You couldn't bear it if he gave that to anyone else. You know full well you're in too deep and the thought of him being with anyone else--)
Shut up!
L clenched his teeth and strangled the washcloth in his hands. He was getting sick of arguing with himself. It was going nowhere.
He was fully capable of resisting the brunet and not giving him what he wanted. He had to stop letting Raito convince him otherwise. It was possible. He was not obligated to work the fake job set before him, he was not required to change his residence, and he was not tied to letting Raito suck him dry like a flesh-hungry incubus.
He shuddered, resuming the robotic motions of cleansing that had ceased at some point in the swirl of his thoughts.
These were decisions that only he could make.
The final say was his own, no matter how it looked at times, and no matter how his physiological reactions tried to trip him up and confuse him. He alone was accountable in the end.
It peeved him, and he took issue with the way Raito never seemed held accountable for anything he did. It hardly seemed fair.
(What would appease you?)
There was that insistent voice again.
I don't know.
(Surely you do. Make a demand.)
I've made demands!
(Hasn't he honored them?)
Not...... exactly.
(Has he dismissed them? Has he shrugged them off or has he done his best to comply?)
Whose side are you on?!
(Yours.)
It sure as hell doesn't seem like it.
(You hold more sway than you think. You just have to realize.)
Realize that having voices in my head is not a good sign of mental stability? Thank you for continuing to make that abundantly clear.
L stepped back under the spray of the water, letting it soak him and trying to clear the aggravating 'conversation' from his head as if it were as insubstantial as the soap that was running off of his body.
What would I ask of him?
I wanted him to stay away from Misa, and I think he has actually done so... I still dislike his flirtatious manner, but I do not think he has been involved with her physically since that night we argued about her....
I asked him to leave Aiber be and to not kill him, which he seemed wont to do... and I have seen the proof that Aiber is indeed alive and well.
He has also consented to my wishes that our relationship remain private. Though he always seems one breath away from putting it out into the open...
(See?)
See, nothing! He thought with a spat of irritation.
How can I know what is going on behind the scenes? He could be allowing secrecy because it would affect his position in the public eye if our relationship was made known. Misa? He indicated that he did not care overmuch for her and Aiber is a perfect excuse to abstain from her and act like he is bowing to my wishes in the process. Aiber as well - Raito seems to benefit more from leaving him alone. It might all be about convenience.
L turned off the shower and slid the plain curtain aside.
The bland white tiles were cold under his feet and did nothing more than remind him of the contrast they displayed between Raito's opulent taste his own unattachment to such things. What a contrast it was. This small, unremarkable bathroom with its white cabinets and walls, as opposed to the richly colored, beautiful, expansive room that served as the bathroom in the brunet's house.
Indeed, before Raito, he never would have given such things a second thought. Now? Now this plainness felt tired, old, and claustrophobic.
He suspected this was about more than interior design. It was more like... this was the sort of room that he would never expect someone like Raito to be found in; it did not suit him. The other room would be preferable to L merely because it held the promise that Raito might at some point appear within the confines of its walls.
---
L scrubbed at himself in the shower, irritation crawling over his skin. This was his own house, wasn't it? Shouldn't he have some final say in things? Some final say in something??
With Raito, he always felt at a disadvantage. It peeved him, as that was something he was most certainly not accustomed to.
His skin burned with the heat of the water and his own determined scrubbing. He gets the better of me and then taunts me with it. I hate that.
And he seriously wants me to live with him? To give up any illusion of control I still possess and put myself in his domain, willingly, so that I have even less to work with and no time to regroup?
Work - he thought testily, warming to the argument - I need to be left alone in order to work...
(He has a job, too, and it isn't as if you couldn't work while he's gone) another part of him pointed out.
I need a space that could be my own...
(He's probably considered that)
I can't stand this constant nerve-wracking attention from him.
(You couldn't bear it if he gave that to anyone else. You know full well you're in too deep and the thought of him being with anyone else--)
Shut up!
L clenched his teeth and strangled the washcloth in his hands. He was getting sick of arguing with himself. It was going nowhere.
He was fully capable of resisting the brunet and not giving him what he wanted. He had to stop letting Raito convince him otherwise. It was possible. He was not obligated to work the fake job set before him, he was not required to change his residence, and he was not tied to letting Raito suck him dry like a flesh-hungry incubus.
He shuddered, resuming the robotic motions of cleansing that had ceased at some point in the swirl of his thoughts.
These were decisions that only he could make.
The final say was his own, no matter how it looked at times, and no matter how his physiological reactions tried to trip him up and confuse him. He alone was accountable in the end.
It peeved him, and he took issue with the way Raito never seemed held accountable for anything he did. It hardly seemed fair.
(What would appease you?)
There was that insistent voice again.
I don't know.
(Surely you do. Make a demand.)
I've made demands!
(Hasn't he honored them?)
Not...... exactly.
(Has he dismissed them? Has he shrugged them off or has he done his best to comply?)
Whose side are you on?!
(Yours.)
It sure as hell doesn't seem like it.
(You hold more sway than you think. You just have to realize.)
Realize that having voices in my head is not a good sign of mental stability? Thank you for continuing to make that abundantly clear.
L stepped back under the spray of the water, letting it soak him and trying to clear the aggravating 'conversation' from his head as if it were as insubstantial as the soap that was running off of his body.
What would I ask of him?
I wanted him to stay away from Misa, and I think he has actually done so... I still dislike his flirtatious manner, but I do not think he has been involved with her physically since that night we argued about her....
I asked him to leave Aiber be and to not kill him, which he seemed wont to do... and I have seen the proof that Aiber is indeed alive and well.
He has also consented to my wishes that our relationship remain private. Though he always seems one breath away from putting it out into the open...
(See?)
See, nothing! He thought with a spat of irritation.
How can I know what is going on behind the scenes? He could be allowing secrecy because it would affect his position in the public eye if our relationship was made known. Misa? He indicated that he did not care overmuch for her and Aiber is a perfect excuse to abstain from her and act like he is bowing to my wishes in the process. Aiber as well - Raito seems to benefit more from leaving him alone. It might all be about convenience.
L turned off the shower and slid the plain curtain aside.
The bland white tiles were cold under his feet and did nothing more than remind him of the contrast they displayed between Raito's opulent taste his own unattachment to such things. What a contrast it was. This small, unremarkable bathroom with its white cabinets and walls, as opposed to the richly colored, beautiful, expansive room that served as the bathroom in the brunet's house.
Indeed, before Raito, he never would have given such things a second thought. Now? Now this plainness felt tired, old, and claustrophobic.
He suspected this was about more than interior design. It was more like... this was the sort of room that he would never expect someone like Raito to be found in; it did not suit him. The other room would be preferable to L merely because it held the promise that Raito might at some point appear within the confines of its walls.
By the same token, how dim and unappealing might the world feel to him if he knew that the brunet would never appear before him again?
It was a sobering thought. It didn't really make him feel much better than before. Now, in addition to feeling as if his hands were tied, he felt sullen.
What if he made his demands, trying to alleviate one turbulent state of mind, and merely became possessed of another more unforgiving state? Would Raito tire of him if he did not allow the brunet to do as he pleased?
---
Raito's eyes were very catlike when L slunk back into the room - his thoughts heavy and his steps dragging as if the weight of them was making the movement a chore.
What was he supposed to do when he was torn between two very different frames of mind about everything?
There was the anger, the feeling of injustice and the bitter taste of giving in to things that put him ill-at-ease, as well as the urge to take action against it... and then there was fear that he might upset some sort of balance - some frail thing that enabled him to be in the position where the brunet who ruled his thoughts would look at him like that, as he was looking at L now.
L stopped in the middle of the room, halfway between the door he'd just closed and the conundrum who sat before him with near feline grace. He felt his mouth twist down, a subtle display of emotion on his otherwise blank face. He knew it was blank; it was nearly automatic when he was deep in thought.
Indecision did not sit comfortably with him, and yet it had been his constant companion since meeting Raito. His entire world had been upended in such a short time. His boundaries had been pushed, coaxed, and warped past recognition.
Raito was dissecting him, even now.
The beckoning, upward tilt to his lips did nothing to disguise that.
Again, the room felt wrong somehow, and even for Raito, he was being watched a little more intently than usual. It made L feel edgy and his foot slid back a step unconsciously as he considered his options. Going right back through that door was looking pretty good about now. It promised a much less stressful time in the immediate future. If he left the room, he could neatly avoid the decision on how to deal with Raito until he could achieve some sort of peace on the matter. There was no reason to rush...
As if tied by connecting strings, Raito began to rise as soon as L took that first twitch backwards.
The brunet's face adopted a more conservative, somber expression that temporarily arrested L's movement as he drew closer. "If you are going to leave," he said in a soft, subdued voice that barely carried, "must you do it so hastily that you cannot even be bothered to dress?"
L's hand, which had been resting loosely upon the towel wrapped around his waist, twitched and clenched upon the thick damp cloth as he looked away.
Raito exhaled a faint, tortured breath and turned to the closet. "Very well," he said.
L felt foolish suddenly, and anxious, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Raito had gotten like this before - acting nearly sullen and treading lightly around him as if he were something unstable or unreasonable that must be catered to. He heard the soft clink of clothes on hangers being shifted in the closet.
It made him feel exceedingly foolish, and suddenly uncertain as to whether he had acted in some way that had caused Raito to justifiably react to him in this way.
He closed his eyes, unhappy with yet another example of an unexpected turn of events.
Damn it.
"Here," Raito said quietly from very close to him as the offering of clothing brushed L's bare abdomen. He paused a moment before speaking again. "Lawliet, did I do something that upset you?"
That caressing, concerned voice was too immediate and affecting. That voice which so often breathed life into L's most depraved thoughts, just with whispered words or the brush of that mouth against the skin of his neck, made him tremble even when it only sounded like this.
L shook his head sharply and took the clothes from him, intent on escape. He felt a web descending on him and it was closing in with delicate silken threads.
Fingertips anointed L's damp skin with their fleeting touch trailing down his arm. "I took things too far, didn't I?" Raito murmured while reaction racketed through L, hobbling him.
L's breath hitched silently in his throat as his body thrummed, and confused anger welled to the surface. "You--"
A hand trailed down his hip as Raito bent to his lips, whispering, "I'm sorry," before sealing them softly.
It was one of the most dangerous types of kisses that the brunet was capable of... The kind that tasted of self-doubt, regret and any number of things that collided, stacked up, and eventually caved in the structure of L's mind until all that was left was the twisting in his chest and the way Raito's full lips against his promised to ease that uncertain pain. It was in the way that L's head swam dizzyingly and as Raito's mouth slid against and within his, it was as if he'd poured his very being into the container of L's mind, seeking him in the darkness there with a beckoning hand.
L dimly registered the clothes falling upon his feet.
Shame was with him as his heart pounded against his ribs. It flowed through his limbs as Raito's hands described archaic patterns upon his back with featherlight touches. Chaste, except for when they strayed... flitting over his hips and waist.
Why can't I keep from wanting this? L thought in frustration as his body and face flushed.
He hated how Raito could sense when he really started losing hold of himself; and that was always when the brunet moved in, pulling L closer and making him want nothing more than everything he could possibly get. He hated how somewhere along the way, Raito was able to strip him of his inhibitions as easily as he could strip him of the fabric that covered him.
L shook his head sharply and took the clothes from him, intent on escape. He felt a web descending on him and it was closing in with delicate silken threads.
Fingertips anointed L's damp skin with their fleeting touch trailing down his arm. "I took things too far, didn't I?" Raito murmured while reaction racketed through L, hobbling him.
L's breath hitched silently in his throat as his body thrummed, and confused anger welled to the surface. "You--"
A hand trailed down his hip as Raito bent to his lips, whispering, "I'm sorry," before sealing them softly.
It was one of the most dangerous types of kisses that the brunet was capable of... The kind that tasted of self-doubt, regret and any number of things that collided, stacked up, and eventually caved in the structure of L's mind until all that was left was the twisting in his chest and the way Raito's full lips against his promised to ease that uncertain pain. It was in the way that L's head swam dizzyingly and as Raito's mouth slid against and within his, it was as if he'd poured his very being into the container of L's mind, seeking him in the darkness there with a beckoning hand.
L dimly registered the clothes falling upon his feet.
Shame was with him as his heart pounded against his ribs. It flowed through his limbs as Raito's hands described archaic patterns upon his back with featherlight touches. Chaste, except for when they strayed... flitting over his hips and waist.
Why can't I keep from wanting this? L thought in frustration as his body and face flushed.
He hated how Raito could sense when he really started losing hold of himself; and that was always when the brunet moved in, pulling L closer and making him want nothing more than everything he could possibly get. He hated how somewhere along the way, Raito was able to strip him of his inhibitions as easily as he could strip him of the fabric that covered him.
The towel about his waist slipped and loosened, removed in a slow dance of indecency as he was distracted by everything else.
---
'I'll do you a favor, Aiber. I'll let you see Lawliet in a way that you'll never get to see him on your own.'
So this is what he meant?
Aiber cursed Raito to hell and back.
But he could not look away. He was riveted to L's face, L's spidery hands, L's spare body. Nevermind the lean, golden form of Yagami that blocked his view. That hateful boy that stood in his place... His prideful posture, and the way he tilted L's face up to bring their lips together...
But it was truth, what the brunet's foul voice had spoken. He probably would never see L like this on his own. Never see his face flush with desire, or see the lines of his body exposed, pale and fragile.
He hated Yagami.
Hated him in a way that he'd never hated anyone else.
Partly because of the truth he was being made to behold - that L reacted to Yagami in a way that he would never duplicate with him... And partly because of the frustration of seeing L like this with someone else and still being unable to not be turned on by it.
Only a really sick and twisted individual would have their enemy watch them make love to someone like this. To keep their partner in the dark and not utter a word about there being an audience.
---
The towel lingeringly dropped to the floor.
---
'I'll do you a favor, Aiber. I'll let you see Lawliet in a way that you'll never get to see him on your own.'
So this is what he meant?
Aiber cursed Raito to hell and back.
But he could not look away. He was riveted to L's face, L's spidery hands, L's spare body. Nevermind the lean, golden form of Yagami that blocked his view. That hateful boy that stood in his place... His prideful posture, and the way he tilted L's face up to bring their lips together...
But it was truth, what the brunet's foul voice had spoken. He probably would never see L like this on his own. Never see his face flush with desire, or see the lines of his body exposed, pale and fragile.
He hated Yagami.
Hated him in a way that he'd never hated anyone else.
Partly because of the truth he was being made to behold - that L reacted to Yagami in a way that he would never duplicate with him... And partly because of the frustration of seeing L like this with someone else and still being unable to not be turned on by it.
Only a really sick and twisted individual would have their enemy watch them make love to someone like this. To keep their partner in the dark and not utter a word about there being an audience.
---
The towel lingeringly dropped to the floor.
L hazily thought how he also hated the way that with Raito, he shifted and could become focused so wholly on pleasure, enough to drive back his reservations and overcome his analytical nature. He disliked the lack of inhibitions, self-awareness, and the vacating coherency of his waking mind...
He shivered as fingers twined sinuously into his hair, the wavelike sensation of it causing his eyes to shut. The fingers caught and pulled at his hair like brambles, not painful, but secure in their claim of spiky locks. Lips graced his neck, smoothing up the line of it until his head was tilted back - exposed - to the fullest extent. They roved over his taut flesh, soft and hot, flooding his stomach with a more intense sort of fire.
...Yet he could also take a secret joy in sometimes turning things back on the brunet, of making him lose every ounce of control that was at his command at any other time. It was rare, yes, but he loved that he was gaining power in this way, steadily, and that Raito was caught outright whenever he put his mind to asserting himself. Last night was proof of this, though the odds had been overwhelmingly in Raito's favor.
For instance...
He shivered as fingers twined sinuously into his hair, the wavelike sensation of it causing his eyes to shut. The fingers caught and pulled at his hair like brambles, not painful, but secure in their claim of spiky locks. Lips graced his neck, smoothing up the line of it until his head was tilted back - exposed - to the fullest extent. They roved over his taut flesh, soft and hot, flooding his stomach with a more intense sort of fire.
...Yet he could also take a secret joy in sometimes turning things back on the brunet, of making him lose every ounce of control that was at his command at any other time. It was rare, yes, but he loved that he was gaining power in this way, steadily, and that Raito was caught outright whenever he put his mind to asserting himself. Last night was proof of this, though the odds had been overwhelmingly in Raito's favor.
For instance...
The brunet's hand smoothed down his bare hip, stroking the line of his body. It made both his concentration and the aching in his loins much much worse.
For ins.......
For ins.......
He doggedly grasped at the words though they were like were soap bubbles drifting on currents of air: transient, insubstantial, and hard to own.
He shuddered as cool, slender fingers moved between them. How was he supposed to pursue his thoughts when they kept evaporating the moment Raito did this or that? His head bowed and rested upon the shoulder in front of him, his mouth slightly open as feeling stole his breath. He stayed there like that, hiding his face against firm flesh as he fought for at least a granule of composure.
It was not long before a very insistent thought pervaded his mind... Raito's warm skin smelled intoxicating.
He lifted his head, nuzzling the slope of the brunet's shoulder as he took that heady scent into his lungs. When it paled, he sought it in strength, and was led up the memorizing curve between that shoulder and the graceful column of the brunet's tawny neck. He couldn't help but taste the skin, to roll it under his teeth and feel desire steal through him more forcefully, to egg him on as he sensed the resounding lust in flesh and bone before him. The tensing, the slight shudder that felt like reverberation under his mouth...
Yes.
This was where those thoughts had been going.
This further shifting in him that took him past the completely helpless desire, little by little until he was burning with the need to evoke reaction. To make someone like Raito react to him. To touch and be touched. To feel this fiercely and to transcend it... to be able to turn the desire back on the one who'd inflamed it and to make them feel just as helpless and gone. This was the power he'd slowly begun to grasp. He'd started to see signs of it before he'd actually understood. He knew he had the ability, when he put his mind to it, to make the brunet react to him. He already had, many times.
For instance... a well-timed roll of the hips as Raito moved within him, and he could nearly guarantee the shudder that would rock the brunet's body. Or how he could anticipate the passionate noises that would unconsciously fall from the brunet's mouth as he succumbed to a wave of pleasure. Each reaction drove him to wrest more from his unsuspecting partner. Each erotic noise shivered through him and caused him to act even more depraved.
He sought the brunet's mouth, and he did not have to look far, for Raito's mouth crashed softly against his, hot, wet and impatient.
L wondered, as their fevered kisses led them to the bed, what it might be like if the tables were truly turned. He had never contested their positions before... He was fairly certain he would feel this intensely regardless of trivial things like that. But...
...he got a certain thrill from the thought of Raito submitting to him, of the brunet shelving his massive pride and allowing someone else to be in control from start to finish.
As long as Raito was on top, he probably linked that to being in control, no matter if he wasn't in control at all.
What would he do if I suddenly decide I want to feel him from the inside?
Could I change everything as easily as rolling him upon his back and pinning him down like he has done to me? Could I kiss him senseless like he did my first time and take him while he was unaware? Or drive him to such desperation that it suddenly wouldn't matter how we had each other, as long as we did?
He seriously doubted that.
As compelling as the thought was.
The closest he'd come so far was the night that he'd been sick and the brunet had bestowed upon him the pleasure of coming to completion in the warm embrace of his lover's mouth.
Raito's obstinate insistence that he needed no reciprocation afterwards had seemed so unnatural that L forced the issue. He'd watched the haughty brunet absolutely crumble before him, his hands desperately losing themselves in L's dark wayward hair as pleasure overtook him.
He hadn't minded the hot hard feel of the brunet on his tongue. He'd linked that immediately to the ability to control the other's voice, and to have an unobstructed view of his beautiful face and being able to witness the expressions that flickered across it. The barest micro-expressions of vulnerability were sometimes present among the ones that were sometimes so sexy that he felt them to his toes.
"Lawliet," Raito murmured huskily against his lips then, bringing his thoughts to heel. "What on earth are you thinking about? I can hardly control myself seeing you looking like that." He didn't wait for an answer, but devoured L's mouth wantonly instead. L could feel the proof of that statement hard and ready, pressing into his abdomen.
L slipped his hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Raito's arousal, causing the brunet to break the kiss with a gasp. "Then don't control yourself," L said. "I don't want to wait."
"Jesus, L..." Raito moaned, unable to get out more than the nickname he usually avoided using, as L's hand moved upon him. His breathing became more ragged and he buried his face against L's neck as his body began to give off intermittent tremors.
L felt a groan get dragged from the back of his own throat as Raito's questing hand found his aching flesh, more insistent and commanding now than before. Long fingers and a smooth, firm palm handled him so expertly he thought he was going to die. The kneading, gliding pressure and dampening skin of Raito's closed hand was more than he could take. It was too much like what he imagined being inside the other's body would be like. His hips moved against the pressure of that glorious hand while he held Raito in his own. Raito's mouth adorned his neck with rough kisses and sharp bites, intensifying his reaction and making him relinquish the precious control he'd gained.
"You know... that you're mine," Raito panted in his ear as the pinnacle of pleasure loomed up before them, voice as much like velveteen steel as the flesh in L's hand, "don't you... Lawliet."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement of possession that shattered the last shreds of control that L had had left.
He shuddered violently and pulled Raito's mouth hastily to his, muffling the cry that threatened to loose itself from the center of his being as the aching in his groin spiked. He was flooded with such intense pleasure then that he completely lost his bearings. Everything outside of that euphoric feeling, the dizzying pleasure, was hazy. Grey. He felt the brunet jerk against him, his sleek body tightening fast like a coil. The weight of him, the strength of his tensing muscles as he was gripped in ecstasy... it was emblazoned on L's awestruck mind in that moment and would forever be stamped there. Raito was spilling himself in L's hand as orgasm bowed his body and streamed a low moan into the secrecy of their joined mouths and sinfully twining tongues.
Their sweat-glistening bodies heaved as if they'd just run for miles, full tilt, and L could feel the brunet's heart pounding heavily against his own. L had the hazy, passing thought that it wasn't even 8 a.m. yet.
____________________________________________________________< /font>
TBC
A/N: (Dude. Raito is SO a nympho. My god. LOL)
Aiber-- ...would be beating his head repeatedly into a wall after all of this if only he wasn't afraid of being found out. (Weeps)