Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ PITCH ❯ Date - part a ( Chapter 21 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
PITCH
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Light x L
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Part 21a
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: Sigh.
Well guys, hope you enjoy the extraaa long chapter. I skipped my all day Saturday class to write it. :/
Well guys, hope you enjoy the extraaa long chapter. I skipped my all day Saturday class to write it. :/
Disclaimer: (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)
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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.
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Part 21a: (Date)
Raito's hazy thought afterwards was that he almost regretted what he'd done because he'd given Aiber more of a show than he'd meant to.
Well, perhaps not 'regret' exactly, he mused languidly as the aftershocks continued to ripple softly through him in a way that was infinitely pleasing. But where he'd begun this according to a very precise plan, he actually had not intended to go this far in front of his enemy. Somewhere along the way, he stopped thinking about Aiber and his goal to make the blond man very aware of how Lawliet would never be his, and had just been thinking about Lawliet.
Maybe he was losing his touch.
He never used to lose himself in the moment like this.
Of course, that was all before he met the dark-haired eccentric. The detective had kind of crashed into his carefully constructed world, made a lovely mess of his personal and business life, and he'd still not adjusted to all of the ramifications. Be that as it may, his greatest concern was keeping the elusive Lawliet from crashing back out again.
Lawliet had become integral to everything. He hadn't even realized it yet. Raito could tell by the way he failed to go for the throat when the opportunity cleanly presented itself. He was more likely to pull away and look sulky or cagey.
---
Much later, and many things were settled.
A simple, informative text from Raito had provided the impetus to relocate Aiber while Raito distracted Lawliet by more innocent means than usual.
'Please remove my replacement from the detective's home if you do not wish for a scandal. -R'
Raito felt mildly irritated at the inability to fix things himself or to his satisfaction, but...
It was nice to know that the issue would be dealt with and brushed under the rug without his immediate direction, plotting and planning. This probably would be a source of great irritation to the Chairman, but Raito figured it was about time he was made to sweat over something. Besides, his focus would be keeping Aiber's image clean and hiding the blond man's obsession from his darling daughter's eyes. He really didn't have the time to be punishing Raito for insubordination - Raito was merely informing him of a 'situation'. It was the Chairman's decision how he would deal with it.
Raito figured the modus operandi would be to remove Aiber from the premises first and ask questions later. It wouldn't do for Aiber to be caught in his massive stupidity.
---
L suspected something was afoot.
Raito was being rather accommodating and generous, for him. Not that L could question him on it and get any sort of satisfactory answer...
When the brunet decided to play mum, he really played his hand well.
L slanted a glance at him, driving the car as if he didn't have a care in the world. But it was a lie. Surely it was. For there was some vague tension about Raito's eyes that did not fit.
L wasn't quite sure what to do about it, but it made him feel as if action were necessary. Something had been off, even before now. The brunet had seemed fixated on leaving the house, even at this relatively early hour.
What is he hiding? He's acting strange, even for him...
"So. Lawliet. Have you given any thought to my proposal?"
L felt his face shift into an unfamiliar configuration. "Living with you?"
"Yes."
"I have given it thought."
Raito's sharp eyes jagged his way. "And?"
L felt the focus of those eyes like a blade in his chest, as much as he felt his pulse quicken in frustration. "Why are you so insistent on this? We barely even know each other."
"No?" Raito said cuttingly. "You still say that even now? When I know every sound your voice is capable of?"
"That isn't the whole of a person and you know it," L ground out, trying to keep the shame that burbled up from affecting him. "It's only been a handful of weeks. How could that possibly be enough time to know someone? It's impossible."
L felt the car slow down, and cursed his luck that they'd reached a stoplight just now.
"Look at me and tell me I don't know you."
"It's pointless to argue with you."
"Lawliet." The brunet's voice was like a low growl in this throat.
L heaved a sigh and, with resignation, looked over to meet his companion's heavy gaze.
Ruddy amber. Arresting. Penetrating.
Staring back into those eyes was like staring into a pair of headlights as they raced faster towards him. Or perhaps an oncoming train. There was something that stilled movement. That caged the limbs and shortened the breath.
And somewhere amidst the compelling color of those eyes and the drowning black of their centers....there was a resonance. There was a recognition. A similarity that was beyond exteriors, morals and values... There was a likeness and compatibility that could not be explained.
There was a.... belonging. As incongruous as it seemed.
L sighed again and turned away. "What do you want me to say?" His heart was beating sickly in his chest. Racing, oddly. He was afraid of the chokehold that the brunet seemed intent on placing upon him... but at the same time, it made him feel strange, compelled, and frozen.
"I want you to stop fighting for the sake of fighting. Tell me what issue you could possibly have with it."
"I've already told you, and you don't seem to find my reasoning to be valid. Where are you going?"
"If you aren't going to be cooperative, why should I be?"
L had a feeling that Raito was about to go into one of his scary moods. They seemed unpredictable at best. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep his expression blank and unassuming. The scenery whizzed by the window, faster than it should have been. They had been en route to a pachinko parlor. The location had been somewhat baffling, but Raito swore that this particular lounge had other games available as well such as Chess and Go, not to mention a very popular café.
L thrice damned himself at being lured by the promise of decadent sweets, exquisite coffees, exotic teas, and a chance to interact with the brunet in a fashion that allowed them to both remain fully clothed.
L decided to vary his tactics a little. "So now that something is not going your way, you are once again going to throw a fit about it?"
The words fell like cinders, and the tension in the car ratcheted up exponentially.
L chewed the inside of his lip doggedly, staring ahead without blinking. He'd never before hesitated to speak his mind with someone so much as he did with Raito. What was the difference in doing so with him versus with other people?
Raito began, quietly, to laugh. It sounded like genuine laughter, burbling up, but it felt wrong.
"It's devastating, your low opinion of me, Lawliet." Raito sounded amused, but something was off.
"It isn't a low opinion..." L began warily.
"Then what the hell is it?" Raito snapped back, all humor forsaken. "What is it about me that you find so intolerable? Surely there is something. Multiple somethings?" He laughed again, a sharp sound that whisked the warmth from the air.
"You're unreasonable." L spoke quietly, crossing his arms and looking out the window. He could see his own pale reflection, the stillness of the trees as the car remained stopped. "You can't stand not being in control and you do your best to choke me with those restraints."
He felt cold.
Very cold.
"So is that all I am to you? Shackles and pleasure?"
What an odd thing to say. "You--"
"You're more than that to me." Amber eyes were dull, distant. "So was it too much to think it might be the same for you? Was it so outlandish that I thought perhaps we'd stay in the same place officially, as we'd been doing so frequently anyway?"
"It has to be my choice as well. And I have to consider my work..."
"Let me ask you another way, Lawliet." The car eased into motion as the light turned, quickly gaining speed. "What do you see on the horizon tomorrow, next week, next year? Where do you suppose you'll be? Or I'll be?"
L thought about that. Longer than he needed to, really. "I know that I will be working cases."
"And?"
"I'm not entirely sure where you will be. Your ambition baffles me, your methods make me question what morals are, and frankly, I don't know why you would want to complicate things by having someone living with you."
"Then you are a fool."
It was said so quietly, L almost couldn't make out the words.
"Do you remember, Lawliet? Where you were just a few short weeks ago? Do you remember where you were at the precise moment my world crossed yours? I with a blonde bombshell on my arm, and you with your punishing ritualistic whiskey and strange way of sitting?"
L nodded, his eyes fixed forward. He could see the dingy bar, the seemingly fleeting importance of the brunet of the flashy smile asking to borrow his pen. His world had seemed so small then. So claustrophobic, and so comfortingly simple. There was a pang in his chest when he thought of that fortuitous meeting. It was utter chance that someone like Raito had paid him any mind, had bothered to speak to him, had interacted with him in that questionably enticing manner, had looked at him with those drowning pool eyes or kissed him with those soft, wicked lips.......
Raito had somehow woven himself inextricably into the fabric of L's life. L bit his lip hard, trying to dispel the feelings that flooded him, a reliving of everything, every nuance, every upset, every bittersweet and undeniable moment that the brunet had made him feel.
"So many times..." L said beneath his breath. "You've mocked me for my inexperience, and yet you treat me as if I've had eons to consider such things. You should know by now that there wasn't really anyone before you. It should be painfully obvious, in fact. And yet you think that enough time has passed that I should be able to say that I know you? Is a few weeks really enough? And what is 'enough' based on? That we are compatible physically? If that is all then I guess I could agree, but I am not used to tying myself to anyone, and the notion seems foolish at best. What do I know about who you are? All I can say is that I have put up with a lot and I don't know yet what that ultimately means."
---
'Put up with a lot'.... Is that what it all boils down to? The bones and marrow of it? That first and foremost, Lawliet felt that he was enduring?
Raito struggled not to let loose his immediate reaction to that, thought he felt turmoil and anger brimming to the tip of his tongue. Why was being honest and open so very cumbersome? He felt it sharply, like pulling teeth, every time he attempted it. And he wouldn't have bothered with it only he did so out of some misguided perception that it would somehow aid him in his pursuit of the dark-haired man and might make this continually shifting sand beneath their feet slightly more stable.
But why?! Why would he even think that, or be moved to try tactics that were untested when he had a plethora of those that were tried and true? He could wrap nearly anyone around his finger with minimal effort. Expertly. Easily. But with Lawliet, it was like he had to start all over again. None of his tricks worked to his satisfaction. He was shooting in the dark and he was missing!
It was pissing him off beyond measure and he found himself wanting to get even. To drag the other man through the mud a little. Maybe a lot. To tear him down and rip out his moorings until he could fucking appreciate what Raito was trying to do.
He realized that this mode of thinking could be termed 'irrational'. Thus it stood to reason that he was not thinking irrationally if he was able to see such a thing for what it was. But that did not temper the scathing heat of his thoughts and the rejection he suffered all too often at the hands of his quarry.
Raito's breaths were abbreviated, inaudible but harsh, and his pulse was beating in his ears. His fingers twitched with inaction.
He was in a mood to threaten, intimidate... to do something to throw the dark-haired man off of his throne and into the abyss of uncertainty. He was so very angry. And not even his recent victory with Aiber was staving it off. In fact, if he thought overmuch on that, he would rather rewrite the scene - to make the detective suffer further unknown shame - to have taken that slim body fully while the foreigner was privy to it. Instead, some part of him had had some reserve, something that held him in check from taking things that far. He'd protected his partner from such excessive behavior. Though now he wished cruelly that he hadn't, that he could revel in recounting the scene to his unsuspecting companion.
"You're angry again," his passenger said. The tone was empty, inflectionless, though Raito felt dark eyes rest upon him with a bare pressure.
"How astute of you," he responded in a clipped voice. Anything might have been behind the detective's poker face or blank voice. He might have been feeling contrite, or flippant. Anything at all. But for whatever reason, he was choosing to hide and issue more of those words composed to set him off. Throw a fit, indeed. "I don't suppose you feel in any way responsible?" he prompted sharply.
His eyes cut to the side and his companion was facing the window, not deigning to look at him.
Raito's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Had it all been in his head? That what they had between them was something unique? Something to hold onto at all costs? He didn't like that the other man was able to act so unaffected at times. He hated being locked out of what he was thinking, and being left to speculate upon what was going on inside his head.
Lawliet remained silent. Out of spite, or from lack of having a decent response, it was uncertain.
---
Inside his head, L was panicking.
Not the sort of panic that made one mentally unstable, but the kind that tremored down one's limbs and into the fingertips. The kind that made one's thoughts race in circles.
My new tactic sucks.
Thus far, all it had done was inspire Raito's rancor. He thought that instead of yielding to the brunet at every turn, he should perhaps voice his thoughts more directly, even if it did seem somewhat instigatory of him to do so.
No matter how true what he said had been, it seemed as if Raito was taking everything in the worst possible way. And it was not just the anger that affected L so sharply, but the other emotion he felt sure was banked within those smoldering eyes. Hurt. Or something like it. Not that it hadn't already crept into the brunet's voice and words before, but it was broadcasting in the silence.
The connection between them felt severed and lifeblood was pumping from the wound.
L decided it was best to refrain from speaking for fear of making things worse. It certainly hadn't gone well, even tentatively inquiring as to whether his companion was now incensed. Which, obviously, he was; and it was more than obvious now was that he was not in a mood to be civil or try to talk things out.
L could only imagine what it would be like to live in a house with someone like this. Where would he retreat to in such a small place when he felt it best to make himself scarce?
Where indeed.
"Perhaps you are right," Raito said then, his considering tone putting L further on edge.
"About what exactly?" L asked cautiously. He knew better than to be truly hopeful yet. This might just be one of the brunet's turnabouts.
"Why would I shackle myself with someone like you," he said scathingly, "when privacy is a much more valuable commodity?"
L felt his stomach twist like sickness and a lump lodge harshly in his throat. Someone like you? Even if Raito was merely being antagonistic, did he need to go so far as to say something like that?
L reached for the anger he was sure would follow such a statement, but his hands came up empty. His mouth was dry and he could find no words with which to respond. Did he have to say words that rang with such finality? As if he had finally reached the last straw and was washing his hands of the affair? His hands were shaking so he fisted them into his pants, hiding them and the physiological reaction he had no control over. He could only guess at what Raito was inferring with his mention of privacy, but he didn't like it.
"After all," the other man continued in a cavalier tone, "catering to you has been nothing but a hindrance in my work. For instance, I can hardly entertain as I used to."
There was a long pause in which L did not speak, but actively fought with himself for control. He hadn't imagined there was anything a person could say that would make him feel like this. The barbed words stung, as they were supposed to, but the effect went much deeper, setting off a chain reaction which L could not even anticipate the true measure of. It shocked him that he was reacting so viscerally, and that he could not tell whether he was inordinately angry or stricken.
I see.
L meant the words to be spoken aloud, but they did not move past his lips.
By entertaining, Raito had to mean the sort of thing he used to do - advancing his career... bodily. Misa, and that awful woman he had met at Raito's place of work... and how many others might have known the brunet in an intimate fashion? How many people had that with him - what L had had and been convinced was special? Meaningful? Life-altering.
Flashes of times he'd spent with Raito, images of smiles or the bickering that really wasn't anything but amiable, things like that were cropping up before his eyes, tokens of times that were now slipping through his fingers. The loss...
The impending loss was excruciating.
"Take me back," L said quietly, in a voice that sounded calm and reasonable, just the opposite of how the maelstrom inside of him was brewing.
It did not matter to him that they had only just left. That was inconsequential. He was going to lose hold of himself and he did not want to be around anyone when it happened, least of all Raito.
"I can't do that," the brunet said just as calmly, his unaffected manner breathing ice inside of L's chest.
Can't? Or won't? L sensed that if he chose to argue, he would merely be met with obstinate resistance. It would change nothing. So he would wait. When the car stopped, he would simply get out and walk home.
Until then, the ride promised to be intolerable.
For the next 20 minutes, the air inside the car was stifling and unbroken by anything save for the rumble of road noise. L stared fixedly out the window, learning self-control in new ways. He went through emotions in waves, each prompting him to break the silence with different scripts, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. Nothing he said would fix the situation, so there was nothing worth uttering. All he could expect was a more acidic fight, and worse words to digest than the ones he'd already taken in. He would not feel better voicing the anger he felt, nor anything else, not after the way the brunet had responded, likely shredding him to the best of his ability.
And he felt stupid, stupid, for voicing any of the sentiments he'd felt. And doubly so for being honest about his reservations about sharing a living space or anything else. It was as if each time he was honest, a shotgun blew up in his face. Oh yes, gun-shy was an apt description.
L hated feeling like this.
Hated it.
So much so that when he realized that Raito was heading for the highway, likely anticipating his plan to let himself out of the car, he was beside himself with frustration. He reached for his cell, knowing how much Raito might get bent out of shape over its appearance, and even hoping for it. He was reaching a breaking point and it was sharpening his thoughts and making him antagonistic. He wanted to inflict some damage back, if only to grant himself a reprieve.
He called no one.
It would be much more infuriating for the brunet to try to figure out what he was doing, pressing keys, while he was trying to drive.
He checked his email first, composing messages for work which would require a lot of typing, knowing that Raito's controlling nature would be snapping with each soft button click.
The brunet held his piece amazingly well, saying nothing for nearly 10 minutes of flurried clicking. L did not look at his face, but judging by the tightening atmosphere, he was having trouble keeping silent. While this went on, L was deciding who would be best to send a direct message to that could get him out of his current containment.
Watari... seemed a mixed bag. Like a pillar of 'I-told-you-so', his involvement promised its own sort of torture. But who else was there?
Well... if he really wanted to cause a stir... he could message him.
But should he? He most certainly would gain an immediate response. Especially given the history of recent events...
Was he really feeling that vindictive? Aiber would be the one to which Raito might react the strongest, but L had issues with Aiber as well. He had not forgotten the incident at the train station, the attempted blackmail of Raito, or the constant harassment the blond man had subjected him to. The blackmail was the worst - recalling how very close it had been that Raito might have been imprisoned if Aiber had gone through with everything...
L pushed that from his mind, not liking the memory of his reaction to that - how broken he'd felt when he realized he might be on the brink of losing Raito completely, or even what he'd gone through in order to protect him. There was even the distilled despair when he was told by the brunet that his suffering had been foolish, unnecessary, and had better not be repeated.
"What are you doing?" Raito finally asked, a tension ghosting in his voice that was definitely unintentional.
"Nothing," L replied shortly, not wanting to engage in conversation.
"You've been doing nothing with your thumbs in a noisy fashion for some time now." Raito sounded irked.
"I'm sorry, did I say 'nothing'?" L said, feeling overly irked himself. "I meant: 'It's none of your business'."
He could almost hear the grinding of teeth at that.
It served him right. How did he expect to all but dump me on my ass and expect that he could still reach over and control my actions, or my life? If he's absolving himself of everything, then I sure as hell am not going to lie down and make that easy for him.
It was easier to be angry than hurt. It really was.
It was best to focus on that and block everything else out so he could breathe.
If he didn't, his mind began racing as he contemplated the revolving door of Raito's home, the sultry smiles that could melt a person where they stood, and all the potential partners the brunet might be courting in the near future. It twisted his insides up so bad he was sure he was going to be sick and his head began to swim. The shaking started to take hold of his hands again.
Oh, the anger was so elusive. He clawed at it frantically, it being the only stability he could hope for.
Frankly, he felt like his chest was being crushed. So many scenes: Raito's enigmatic gaze locked to his, smiles playing about his lips, Raito teasing him mercilessly for his lack of people skills that day L accompanied him to work, being held close and finally believing he was necessary to the brunet... and so many others, so many words exchanged, all of them streamed through his conscious mind, making it seem so impossible that things had gone awry like this. There were so many things he'd endured, having identified Raito as something that he had somehow needed in his life.
---
If human hands had more strength in them, then Raito would have been successful in crushing the steering wheel by now with the punishing grip he kept upon it.
He wanted to wring the detective's neck.
How did he justify being spiteful and telling him that anything was 'none of his business'?!
He hated it when the other man said things like that. As if Raito were of no more consequence than the weather.
Lawliet did not show a flicker of jealousy when Raito suggested the alternative to the insomniac moving in with him could be a return to how things used to be. None. And previously the idea of Raito being with other people had really seemed to get under his skin. Here Raito had thought his dark-haired passenger might have just been missing the fact that if he were to live with Raito, he could be assured that Raito would not be bringing anyone else home. Wasn't that what he'd have wanted? More stability?
"Does this mean you rescind your rule about Misa?" he asked sharply.
Was Lawliet giving up on it all? Was jealousy merely the first to go?
For what had he gone through all of those maneuverings with Aiber and all the rest? What did it all amount to if Lawliet was being like this? If he no longer seemed to care as Raito thought he had?
"Do whatever you want," came the quiet answer. "You always do anyway."
---
It was with some surprise that L found himself waking up to the sound of the car stopping. He didn't recall falling asleep or even feeling tired. He felt a bit groggy as well as he lifted his head from where it had been propped against the window.
The automatic locks disengaged with an audible thunk. "Get out," Raito said stonily.
L felt a trickle of misgiving, but pushed his car door open as he was bidden. He looked around behind them and saw mostly open road as he patted his pockets for his phone. Had he dropped it on the floor as he slept? It did not seem to be in his possession.
The sound of a car door slamming shut startled him.
It was just Raito, coming around from the driver's side, face expressionless and intimidating. L also noticed that there was a building at which they were parked but there was no visible sign. Its walls were of rough hewn wood, seeming incongruously like a wood cabin.
"Raito, where--?" he began to ask, forgetting that he had decided not to engage in conversation.
Raito came up behind him, catching and twisting his arm behind him and pushing him forward roughly.
He was steered through a glass door, opening it at the brunet's nonverbal request, and came face to face with a bored looking young man with lank hair and a mouthful of chewing tobacco. He looked up from the desk he was manning. "Yeah?" he inquired in an appropriately bored, lackluster tone.
Raito tossed some bills on the countertop.
The young man looked at the bills with slight interest. "Change?"
"Not necessary," Raito responded.
The young man almost affected a smile, and coasted his chair backwards so he could select a tagged key from a wall of hooks. He slid it across the counter with a metallic scrape and said, "This one's real quiet."
L looked between the clerk and the brunet, not liking the tone of things one bit. Only he could not quite turn his head far enough to see the brunet with how the other man was standing nearly behind him.
"Raito," L said once they were outside again, "what are you doing?"
"None of your business," the brunet said darkly.
"Well it appears as if it is my business, seeing as how I'm involved," he protested. He tried digging his heels in to the dirt to slow their progress towards what had to be some sort of motel room in the middle of freaking nowhere.
"That definition did not seem to trouble you before," the brunet said caustically.
Oh yes, judging by the degenerating civility, this was not a Raito that L wished to be trapped in a small room with. And that unease was steadily increasing.
"It is my business what I do with my phone," he maintained, his feet scraping across the ground as Raito half dragged him across the packed dirt parking lot.
"In front of me," Raito growled, staring straight ahead towards his goal. "Therefore making it my concern. Stop splitting hairs only when it is convenient for you."
Room 14B loomed ahead like some nightmare monstrosity. It was the room on the very end of the building and no cars were parked nearby.
"Stop dragging me!" L finally snapped, trying to wrest his left arm out of the brunet's mechanical grip. Aside from their fight, he really did not want to be forced into some foreign rented room in the middle of nowhere with the oft unstable brunet. It just did not seem to bode well.
Not only was L unsuccessful, Raito grabbed his other arm and now had the two within his iron grasp. His wrists were grinding together slightly.
L cursed under his breath. He was feeling seriously unsettled now. What excuse could the brunet possibly have for stopping here? Or for manhandling him like this? "Where is my cell phone?" he asked, suspicious now that he had not misplaced it at all.
"You won't be needing it," Raito said curtly.
It occurred to L that even if he were to break free of the brunet's hold, he did not know which direction on that empty road would be the way home. And without a cell phone, he could hardly call someone to pick him up. The only thing he could manage was to perhaps borrow the phone in the office... but the clerk seemed to have been tipped rather handsomely just moments ago and would likely be less than helpful to him as opposed to the brunet.
Raito unlocked the door with his free hand, having little trouble doing so while he kept hold of L's more slender wrists.
Not for the first time, L damned genetics for making him smaller and weaker than the men he seemed to keep having trouble with in situations like these. It was worse with Raito than Aiber in some ways, because Raito himself was also slender and did not appear as if he would have an unfair advantage, but he did. Where L's shoulders were thin and tended to bow in with terrible posture, Raito's shoulders (not to mention his chest and back) were well-developed and solid. When it came to pure strength, there was no contest. L's wiry strength came from motion, from being able to pivot, dodge, or issue blows with his more powerful legs.
So it was hardly surprising that Raito was easily able to lock the door behind him, and force L face down onto the bed. His arms were kept pinned as Raito straddled him.
His legs, of course, were not possessed of enough freedom to be useful. What was surprising was the feel of something snapping around his wrist and the clink clink clink as it did so. He struggled as Raito pulled his hands up over his head and he heard the sound again, feeling something hard circling his other wrist.
His stomach dropped.
"Wha--?" he said in a startled voice as Raito's weight left him and he found he could not lower his hands.
He was able to roll onto his back, however, and did so before looking up at his entrapped hands. Unease rippled through him heavily, gripping his lungs.
"Novelty cuffs," Raito informed him airily (though they felt real enough), saying it as if that were perfectly normal. As if he were answering a more mundane question such as, 'what is the color of the car you drive?'. "You aren't the first to wear them," he added in a suggestive yet patronizing tone as his hawk-like eyes held L's.
L bit the inside of his lip hard, struggling not to react to that statement. His chest felt like a cage of glass being crunched beneath someone's boot - he could nearly hear the sound of it. His breathing accelerated shallowly with the effort.
He lied to himself, denying the prickling burn in his eyes. He could ignore it, if only he blanked his mind and did not imagine who those other people might have been, or the things that they and the brunet might have done together.
To say it was difficult was an understatement.
It was obvious that Raito was watching and waiting for a reaction, his face looking cruel and composed. L didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He had no idea what had really sparked off this odd behavior but he did not want to feed into it.
Given the other things the brunet had done or threatened to do, it was actually quite alarming - the current situation. This was not a well-peopled area, Raito was an unpredictable force at best, and he was currently handcuffed and unable to do anything about it.
It was a little hard to remain optimistic.
He supposed it could be worse, though at the moment, he was already having trouble dealing, so it was hard to imagine how.
---
Raito stared down at his captive, and his captive stared back at him with an unreadable expression. He felt only marginally better because of this. Fear, upset, something of the like might have assuaged this mood of his, this restless anger, but this he was denied. So he had Lawliet where he wanted him, but not yet how he wanted him.
This could be easily rectified.
"I'll be back," he said curtly, turning for the door.
"Wait - where are you going?" the detective asked, some subtle dissonance coloring his voice. The handcuffs rattled as he tried to sit up.
Raito regarded him coldly, mollified to see a flicker of reaction in those dark eyes. He then took out his pack of cigarettes and tapped one out of the package. Putting it up to his lips, he repeated, "I'll be back."
There was no reason to put a time to it, he thought as he went back through the door. For while he did feel the need to blacken his lungs, there was another thing or two he might be about in the meantime. And it wouldn't hurt to have Lawliet be left in the dark for an unprescribed amount of time.
---
Raito returned some time later. During his absence, L had strengthened his resolve to not be upset and to be as uncooperative as possible.
L's resolve did waver somewhat in light of the brunet's return, however, as seeing his face made the feelings much more immediate.
Raito calmly sat down upon the bed, his motions coiled as if to warn L not to even attempt lashing out in spite, and said simply, "Comfortable?"
Though it was inordinately difficult to imagine striking Raito at all (in truth it would be a useless thing to do seeing as he would remain chained to the headboard) he still felt the urge to do it as soon as the brunet spoke.
His only revenge would be in not answering. Above all, the man before him hated being ignored.
L shoved down the stream of panicked gibbering that the small voice in the back of his head was still letting out in response to being bound. Being restrained really rubbed against one's nerves if one was used to being in control of every aspect and nuance of their surroundings each day.
(What if you are left like this?) the voice was saying. (Or what if something happens to Raito and you cannot get free - who would think to look for you here? You'll die of starvation! ...though dehydration would come first...)
(Or what if he decides to do something awful to you? How would you evade anything in this state?)
L really had not specifically revisited his passing fear that Raito was a violent sociopath, aside from that moment last night, but the urge to do so was now not a small one. Was this not how many people had died at the hands of mentally unstable people? Killed by someone they knew, in a remote area, no one missing them right away...
"I would rather you answer me without any convincing on my part," Raito said in an inflectionless voice. "But I am prepared to do so if necessary."
L frowned at him - the only concession he gave to reacting.
He did not know what the brunet had in mind, though he had been fairly certain the brunet would not bring harm to him. That was curious though, seeing as Raito's behavior in other situations had been known to become violent or rough. He'd held him and Aiber at gunpoint previously, without batting an eye. He'd also subjected them to horrible, terrifying treatment over the following hours. Seemingly without remorse. Who was L to guess how far Raito would or wouldn't go?
"Who were you communicating with on your phone earlier?" Raito fixed him with a sharp gaze, warning him that cooperation would really be much more pleasant.
L debated his answer.
Raito drifted closer, like a menacing phantom.
"It is my own concern, Yagami-kun," he stated before Raito took his silence to be a willful one. He'd decided to hold his ground. To do otherwise was to give the other man the upper hand. This way, there might still be a chance that Raito would see he was acting unreasonably. It was all about the illusion of control and who possessed it. Raito had caved to him before. It was not impossible. He just had to put his foot down. "Whether it is personal, or for work, it is for me to decide what I might wish to disclose to you."
"Is it now? Even in your current position?" Raito asked snidely.
"And what position is this, exactly?" L questioned him with a carefully inflectionless voice. He didn't expect a satisfactorily informative response, but even a hint as to what the brunet might be thinking would be helpful.
Raito said nothing, but reached down to the floor to rummage in what sounded like a plastic bag. L had noticed him carrying something in. When he straightened, he placed a bottle on the nightstand next to the bed with a resounding clunk.
It was a bottle of clear, amber-brown liquid. Likely alcohol.
L met Raito's gaze for a long moment, frowning and showing his displeasure at the prospect before them. It was a willful glare. The same sort Raito was currently leveling back at him.
If you think getting me drunk is going to help you force me to talk...
"I'll ask you again," Raito said almost reasonably. "Who?" He was turning something in his hands idly as he waited for a response.
L sighed in annoyance. "I maintain that it is none of your concern and that will remain the case, no matter how many times you ask me."
Raito's expression changed minutely, but he was rather calm about pouring the amber fluid into the cheap shot glass in his hand.
L was quite confused then, when Raito did not force the drink on him but rather, tipped it to his own lips.
"No matter how many times?" the brunet asked in a falsely amiable tone, as if verifying something quite unimportant.
L felt reluctant to say anything. Slowly though, he nodded.
Raito poured another shot. His hands were unhurried and graceful. "Even if I am willing to answer your questions in exchange?"
He drank that one, too, while L considered.
Actually, seeing Raito drink in this situation made him more nervous for some reason than being forced to drink would have made him. "All right," he gave a token concession. "It was communications for work."
Raito smiled slightly and poured a third. "I do hope you aren't thinking such a half-assed answer would be good enough."
L cringed a little as Raito consumed his third fill of the glass, then a fourth, tipping them back carelessly, as if to say it was a punishment for his insubstantial answer. L realized quite suddenly that he had never seen the brunet inebriated. As such, he was fast coming to a point where he would not be able to know what to expect. Some people were amiable when drunk, some angry, sad or unstable. There was no way to know how it would be with Raito except that one could expect a lowering of his inhibitions.
"I was emailing 2 of my clients about their cases." He decided to offer some extra information, just to see if placating the brunet would still his hands. "I had not had the chance previously, so I did it when the thought occurred."
"Oh?" Raito said softly, turning a heavy gaze upon him. His eyes had a dangerous sort of heat in them. "And of all times, why do you suppose the thought struck you just then?"
"I don't know," L tried to lie convincingly. He was unable to hold that gaze, however. They diverted to study the bed's comforter almost instinctively, possibly ruining his act.
The soft clink of glass upon glass made him jump a little.
Damn.
He did not need to look to know that another shot of alcohol had been poured and would soon be consumed. His body tensed and he started to feel the undercurrents of frantic frustration that he was already losing ground.
"Oh, I don't know," Raito said placatingly, his voice sounding oh-so-smooth, "I think you do."
L chewed the inside corner of his lip furtively. He sensed now where this might be headed and the interrogation that might come about. Raito was trying to corner him into admitting he had been purposely trying to instigate him. He'd wanted to get a reaction and gain some equal footing in the basis of their fight, but he did not want to admit anything of the sort. However, he was not seeing a way to keep secrets while also stilling the dropping waterline of the alcohol bottle. "You obviously have some ideas about it. Why don't you tell me what you perceived?"
Raito gave a throaty chuckle. It was a rich, warm sound that spread insidiously through L's belly yet jangled his nerves like static.
"I think you are more than aware of how much I dislike certain behaviors of yours," Raito said languidly, eyeing him. "The more pertinent question is, for what reason were you trying to irk me on purpose?"
L revisited the moment he'd decided to compose those messages and the frustration/hurt jumped to the surface. The jealousy and helpless anger... His futile attempt to pay the brunet back in some way, immature though it was to do it the way he had...
Raito's current behavior was making him feel all the more irrational with how very laid back the brunet was acting. Oh, and it was an act. He was sure of it. Beneath the unflappable exterior, that tenseness and that waiting... they were still there.
L couldn't look at him. He stared fixedly at the dingy wall ahead of him instead. He'd already regretted openly voicing his feelings and motivations. They'd only been smacked down or thrown in his face. Did Raito really expect him to do so again? To say how much his words had hurt or how upsetting it was to hear him speak of being with other people again? That would be foolish.
"I'm waiting."
"I have nothing to say to you." L spoke quietly, not quite masking the clenching of his teeth. He held on to his anger, steeling himself with it. That was the only way to win this game, wasn't it? To not give in? To show no weakness that might be exploited?
A new sound voiced itself in the periphery. A rather solid, metallic click.
L's eyes whipped back to the brunet.
Raito was glancing down at his hands consideringly, while lightly resting his thumb against the blade of a large pocketknife as if to test its sharpness.
The effect that had on L was sudden and sharp. Fear crystallized in him and made him desperate to sit up. Especially when those eyes finally slid to him.
A knife. Such a tiny little detail, but one that put Raito firmly in control again, without question.
L swallowed.
Fear must have flashed upon his face, because the brunet smiled in response to something.
((Don't react! He's only trying to throw his weight around.))
Maybe the tiny voice in his head that was offering up advice was correct. On the other hand, it wasn't the one directly in the line of fire, and not reacting to a very large blade seemed outside of L's skill set.
Raito leaned forward, never breaking eye contact as he ghosted a kiss across L's trembling lips. The brunet looked engaged and subtly pleased about something, though L was not sure what. He was preoccupied with the knife that he could no longer see, and the biting of the metal cuffs into his wrists as he pulled against them futilely.
"Are you feeling ready to offer your real answers now?" the brunet whispered softly in his ear.
L was thoroughly disturbed that his voice could still sound so very sensual, even now, like this. It made him feel doubly trapped.
He would prefer not to speak, lest some nuance give him away, but it did not look as if he was being given a choice. "I was angry," he managed to get out.
Raito tsked under his breath. "I warned you about giving half-hearted answers, Lawliet." He pulled away and poured another shot, holding the knife easily and comfortably as he did so. It seemed familiar in his hands.
Further imbibing in alcohol while a weapon was present really gnawed at L's remaining self-possession. His hands twitched compulsively, wanting to snatch the bottle and glass from the other man. How many more missteps could he afford? How many more before Raito was no longer concerned overmuch with consequences?
L wondered if he was placing himself in danger with every act of rebellion or every response that was met with an miscalculated result. He cringed as the liquor slid down Raito's throat. The brunet's eyes were burning brighter now, looking more energized than before. He looked willing and able to address a challenge.
To his horror, Raito immediately poured another shot before pausing to look at him expectantly, small glass poised to his lips. A civilized threat.
"I was--" his hands fisted briefly as he forced the words out, "I was trying to get even, I suppose."
"For what perceived slight?" the brunet asked, lowering the glass.
A reprieve... A reward for answering the way he wants...
L shifted, discomfited. "For..." Gah! What was he supposed to say? The truth? But he'd already tried that and all it had served was to piss the other man off. But there was nothing else for him to speak but the truth, right? "For what I've already said..." he began, finding it difficult to go into greater depth. Words were escaping him.
Raito's gaze narrowed, warning him that that response was not going to be good enough.
The knife danced in the brunet's restless hands. L cringed backwards as it moved closer, horrified when he felt the cool blade against his stomach.
It was brief, however, and the blade was turned, poised to threaten only the buttons along the seam of his shirt. He jumped with each one that was severed and popped from the garment, exposing his skin to the air, his nerves fraying.
"Raito, stop! Please!"
Raito's hazy thought afterwards was that he almost regretted what he'd done because he'd given Aiber more of a show than he'd meant to.
Well, perhaps not 'regret' exactly, he mused languidly as the aftershocks continued to ripple softly through him in a way that was infinitely pleasing. But where he'd begun this according to a very precise plan, he actually had not intended to go this far in front of his enemy. Somewhere along the way, he stopped thinking about Aiber and his goal to make the blond man very aware of how Lawliet would never be his, and had just been thinking about Lawliet.
Maybe he was losing his touch.
He never used to lose himself in the moment like this.
Of course, that was all before he met the dark-haired eccentric. The detective had kind of crashed into his carefully constructed world, made a lovely mess of his personal and business life, and he'd still not adjusted to all of the ramifications. Be that as it may, his greatest concern was keeping the elusive Lawliet from crashing back out again.
Lawliet had become integral to everything. He hadn't even realized it yet. Raito could tell by the way he failed to go for the throat when the opportunity cleanly presented itself. He was more likely to pull away and look sulky or cagey.
---
Much later, and many things were settled.
A simple, informative text from Raito had provided the impetus to relocate Aiber while Raito distracted Lawliet by more innocent means than usual.
'Please remove my replacement from the detective's home if you do not wish for a scandal. -R'
Raito felt mildly irritated at the inability to fix things himself or to his satisfaction, but...
It was nice to know that the issue would be dealt with and brushed under the rug without his immediate direction, plotting and planning. This probably would be a source of great irritation to the Chairman, but Raito figured it was about time he was made to sweat over something. Besides, his focus would be keeping Aiber's image clean and hiding the blond man's obsession from his darling daughter's eyes. He really didn't have the time to be punishing Raito for insubordination - Raito was merely informing him of a 'situation'. It was the Chairman's decision how he would deal with it.
Raito figured the modus operandi would be to remove Aiber from the premises first and ask questions later. It wouldn't do for Aiber to be caught in his massive stupidity.
---
L suspected something was afoot.
Raito was being rather accommodating and generous, for him. Not that L could question him on it and get any sort of satisfactory answer...
When the brunet decided to play mum, he really played his hand well.
L slanted a glance at him, driving the car as if he didn't have a care in the world. But it was a lie. Surely it was. For there was some vague tension about Raito's eyes that did not fit.
L wasn't quite sure what to do about it, but it made him feel as if action were necessary. Something had been off, even before now. The brunet had seemed fixated on leaving the house, even at this relatively early hour.
What is he hiding? He's acting strange, even for him...
"So. Lawliet. Have you given any thought to my proposal?"
L felt his face shift into an unfamiliar configuration. "Living with you?"
"Yes."
"I have given it thought."
Raito's sharp eyes jagged his way. "And?"
L felt the focus of those eyes like a blade in his chest, as much as he felt his pulse quicken in frustration. "Why are you so insistent on this? We barely even know each other."
"No?" Raito said cuttingly. "You still say that even now? When I know every sound your voice is capable of?"
"That isn't the whole of a person and you know it," L ground out, trying to keep the shame that burbled up from affecting him. "It's only been a handful of weeks. How could that possibly be enough time to know someone? It's impossible."
L felt the car slow down, and cursed his luck that they'd reached a stoplight just now.
"Look at me and tell me I don't know you."
"It's pointless to argue with you."
"Lawliet." The brunet's voice was like a low growl in this throat.
L heaved a sigh and, with resignation, looked over to meet his companion's heavy gaze.
Ruddy amber. Arresting. Penetrating.
Staring back into those eyes was like staring into a pair of headlights as they raced faster towards him. Or perhaps an oncoming train. There was something that stilled movement. That caged the limbs and shortened the breath.
And somewhere amidst the compelling color of those eyes and the drowning black of their centers....there was a resonance. There was a recognition. A similarity that was beyond exteriors, morals and values... There was a likeness and compatibility that could not be explained.
There was a.... belonging. As incongruous as it seemed.
L sighed again and turned away. "What do you want me to say?" His heart was beating sickly in his chest. Racing, oddly. He was afraid of the chokehold that the brunet seemed intent on placing upon him... but at the same time, it made him feel strange, compelled, and frozen.
"I want you to stop fighting for the sake of fighting. Tell me what issue you could possibly have with it."
"I've already told you, and you don't seem to find my reasoning to be valid. Where are you going?"
"If you aren't going to be cooperative, why should I be?"
L had a feeling that Raito was about to go into one of his scary moods. They seemed unpredictable at best. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep his expression blank and unassuming. The scenery whizzed by the window, faster than it should have been. They had been en route to a pachinko parlor. The location had been somewhat baffling, but Raito swore that this particular lounge had other games available as well such as Chess and Go, not to mention a very popular café.
L thrice damned himself at being lured by the promise of decadent sweets, exquisite coffees, exotic teas, and a chance to interact with the brunet in a fashion that allowed them to both remain fully clothed.
L decided to vary his tactics a little. "So now that something is not going your way, you are once again going to throw a fit about it?"
The words fell like cinders, and the tension in the car ratcheted up exponentially.
L chewed the inside of his lip doggedly, staring ahead without blinking. He'd never before hesitated to speak his mind with someone so much as he did with Raito. What was the difference in doing so with him versus with other people?
Raito began, quietly, to laugh. It sounded like genuine laughter, burbling up, but it felt wrong.
"It's devastating, your low opinion of me, Lawliet." Raito sounded amused, but something was off.
"It isn't a low opinion..." L began warily.
"Then what the hell is it?" Raito snapped back, all humor forsaken. "What is it about me that you find so intolerable? Surely there is something. Multiple somethings?" He laughed again, a sharp sound that whisked the warmth from the air.
"You're unreasonable." L spoke quietly, crossing his arms and looking out the window. He could see his own pale reflection, the stillness of the trees as the car remained stopped. "You can't stand not being in control and you do your best to choke me with those restraints."
He felt cold.
Very cold.
"So is that all I am to you? Shackles and pleasure?"
What an odd thing to say. "You--"
"You're more than that to me." Amber eyes were dull, distant. "So was it too much to think it might be the same for you? Was it so outlandish that I thought perhaps we'd stay in the same place officially, as we'd been doing so frequently anyway?"
"It has to be my choice as well. And I have to consider my work..."
"Let me ask you another way, Lawliet." The car eased into motion as the light turned, quickly gaining speed. "What do you see on the horizon tomorrow, next week, next year? Where do you suppose you'll be? Or I'll be?"
L thought about that. Longer than he needed to, really. "I know that I will be working cases."
"And?"
"I'm not entirely sure where you will be. Your ambition baffles me, your methods make me question what morals are, and frankly, I don't know why you would want to complicate things by having someone living with you."
"Then you are a fool."
It was said so quietly, L almost couldn't make out the words.
"Do you remember, Lawliet? Where you were just a few short weeks ago? Do you remember where you were at the precise moment my world crossed yours? I with a blonde bombshell on my arm, and you with your punishing ritualistic whiskey and strange way of sitting?"
L nodded, his eyes fixed forward. He could see the dingy bar, the seemingly fleeting importance of the brunet of the flashy smile asking to borrow his pen. His world had seemed so small then. So claustrophobic, and so comfortingly simple. There was a pang in his chest when he thought of that fortuitous meeting. It was utter chance that someone like Raito had paid him any mind, had bothered to speak to him, had interacted with him in that questionably enticing manner, had looked at him with those drowning pool eyes or kissed him with those soft, wicked lips.......
Raito had somehow woven himself inextricably into the fabric of L's life. L bit his lip hard, trying to dispel the feelings that flooded him, a reliving of everything, every nuance, every upset, every bittersweet and undeniable moment that the brunet had made him feel.
"So many times..." L said beneath his breath. "You've mocked me for my inexperience, and yet you treat me as if I've had eons to consider such things. You should know by now that there wasn't really anyone before you. It should be painfully obvious, in fact. And yet you think that enough time has passed that I should be able to say that I know you? Is a few weeks really enough? And what is 'enough' based on? That we are compatible physically? If that is all then I guess I could agree, but I am not used to tying myself to anyone, and the notion seems foolish at best. What do I know about who you are? All I can say is that I have put up with a lot and I don't know yet what that ultimately means."
---
'Put up with a lot'.... Is that what it all boils down to? The bones and marrow of it? That first and foremost, Lawliet felt that he was enduring?
Raito struggled not to let loose his immediate reaction to that, thought he felt turmoil and anger brimming to the tip of his tongue. Why was being honest and open so very cumbersome? He felt it sharply, like pulling teeth, every time he attempted it. And he wouldn't have bothered with it only he did so out of some misguided perception that it would somehow aid him in his pursuit of the dark-haired man and might make this continually shifting sand beneath their feet slightly more stable.
But why?! Why would he even think that, or be moved to try tactics that were untested when he had a plethora of those that were tried and true? He could wrap nearly anyone around his finger with minimal effort. Expertly. Easily. But with Lawliet, it was like he had to start all over again. None of his tricks worked to his satisfaction. He was shooting in the dark and he was missing!
It was pissing him off beyond measure and he found himself wanting to get even. To drag the other man through the mud a little. Maybe a lot. To tear him down and rip out his moorings until he could fucking appreciate what Raito was trying to do.
He realized that this mode of thinking could be termed 'irrational'. Thus it stood to reason that he was not thinking irrationally if he was able to see such a thing for what it was. But that did not temper the scathing heat of his thoughts and the rejection he suffered all too often at the hands of his quarry.
Raito's breaths were abbreviated, inaudible but harsh, and his pulse was beating in his ears. His fingers twitched with inaction.
He was in a mood to threaten, intimidate... to do something to throw the dark-haired man off of his throne and into the abyss of uncertainty. He was so very angry. And not even his recent victory with Aiber was staving it off. In fact, if he thought overmuch on that, he would rather rewrite the scene - to make the detective suffer further unknown shame - to have taken that slim body fully while the foreigner was privy to it. Instead, some part of him had had some reserve, something that held him in check from taking things that far. He'd protected his partner from such excessive behavior. Though now he wished cruelly that he hadn't, that he could revel in recounting the scene to his unsuspecting companion.
"You're angry again," his passenger said. The tone was empty, inflectionless, though Raito felt dark eyes rest upon him with a bare pressure.
"How astute of you," he responded in a clipped voice. Anything might have been behind the detective's poker face or blank voice. He might have been feeling contrite, or flippant. Anything at all. But for whatever reason, he was choosing to hide and issue more of those words composed to set him off. Throw a fit, indeed. "I don't suppose you feel in any way responsible?" he prompted sharply.
His eyes cut to the side and his companion was facing the window, not deigning to look at him.
Raito's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Had it all been in his head? That what they had between them was something unique? Something to hold onto at all costs? He didn't like that the other man was able to act so unaffected at times. He hated being locked out of what he was thinking, and being left to speculate upon what was going on inside his head.
Lawliet remained silent. Out of spite, or from lack of having a decent response, it was uncertain.
---
Inside his head, L was panicking.
Not the sort of panic that made one mentally unstable, but the kind that tremored down one's limbs and into the fingertips. The kind that made one's thoughts race in circles.
My new tactic sucks.
Thus far, all it had done was inspire Raito's rancor. He thought that instead of yielding to the brunet at every turn, he should perhaps voice his thoughts more directly, even if it did seem somewhat instigatory of him to do so.
No matter how true what he said had been, it seemed as if Raito was taking everything in the worst possible way. And it was not just the anger that affected L so sharply, but the other emotion he felt sure was banked within those smoldering eyes. Hurt. Or something like it. Not that it hadn't already crept into the brunet's voice and words before, but it was broadcasting in the silence.
The connection between them felt severed and lifeblood was pumping from the wound.
L decided it was best to refrain from speaking for fear of making things worse. It certainly hadn't gone well, even tentatively inquiring as to whether his companion was now incensed. Which, obviously, he was; and it was more than obvious now was that he was not in a mood to be civil or try to talk things out.
L could only imagine what it would be like to live in a house with someone like this. Where would he retreat to in such a small place when he felt it best to make himself scarce?
Where indeed.
"Perhaps you are right," Raito said then, his considering tone putting L further on edge.
"About what exactly?" L asked cautiously. He knew better than to be truly hopeful yet. This might just be one of the brunet's turnabouts.
"Why would I shackle myself with someone like you," he said scathingly, "when privacy is a much more valuable commodity?"
L felt his stomach twist like sickness and a lump lodge harshly in his throat. Someone like you? Even if Raito was merely being antagonistic, did he need to go so far as to say something like that?
L reached for the anger he was sure would follow such a statement, but his hands came up empty. His mouth was dry and he could find no words with which to respond. Did he have to say words that rang with such finality? As if he had finally reached the last straw and was washing his hands of the affair? His hands were shaking so he fisted them into his pants, hiding them and the physiological reaction he had no control over. He could only guess at what Raito was inferring with his mention of privacy, but he didn't like it.
"After all," the other man continued in a cavalier tone, "catering to you has been nothing but a hindrance in my work. For instance, I can hardly entertain as I used to."
There was a long pause in which L did not speak, but actively fought with himself for control. He hadn't imagined there was anything a person could say that would make him feel like this. The barbed words stung, as they were supposed to, but the effect went much deeper, setting off a chain reaction which L could not even anticipate the true measure of. It shocked him that he was reacting so viscerally, and that he could not tell whether he was inordinately angry or stricken.
I see.
L meant the words to be spoken aloud, but they did not move past his lips.
By entertaining, Raito had to mean the sort of thing he used to do - advancing his career... bodily. Misa, and that awful woman he had met at Raito's place of work... and how many others might have known the brunet in an intimate fashion? How many people had that with him - what L had had and been convinced was special? Meaningful? Life-altering.
Flashes of times he'd spent with Raito, images of smiles or the bickering that really wasn't anything but amiable, things like that were cropping up before his eyes, tokens of times that were now slipping through his fingers. The loss...
The impending loss was excruciating.
"Take me back," L said quietly, in a voice that sounded calm and reasonable, just the opposite of how the maelstrom inside of him was brewing.
It did not matter to him that they had only just left. That was inconsequential. He was going to lose hold of himself and he did not want to be around anyone when it happened, least of all Raito.
"I can't do that," the brunet said just as calmly, his unaffected manner breathing ice inside of L's chest.
Can't? Or won't? L sensed that if he chose to argue, he would merely be met with obstinate resistance. It would change nothing. So he would wait. When the car stopped, he would simply get out and walk home.
Until then, the ride promised to be intolerable.
For the next 20 minutes, the air inside the car was stifling and unbroken by anything save for the rumble of road noise. L stared fixedly out the window, learning self-control in new ways. He went through emotions in waves, each prompting him to break the silence with different scripts, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. Nothing he said would fix the situation, so there was nothing worth uttering. All he could expect was a more acidic fight, and worse words to digest than the ones he'd already taken in. He would not feel better voicing the anger he felt, nor anything else, not after the way the brunet had responded, likely shredding him to the best of his ability.
And he felt stupid, stupid, for voicing any of the sentiments he'd felt. And doubly so for being honest about his reservations about sharing a living space or anything else. It was as if each time he was honest, a shotgun blew up in his face. Oh yes, gun-shy was an apt description.
L hated feeling like this.
Hated it.
So much so that when he realized that Raito was heading for the highway, likely anticipating his plan to let himself out of the car, he was beside himself with frustration. He reached for his cell, knowing how much Raito might get bent out of shape over its appearance, and even hoping for it. He was reaching a breaking point and it was sharpening his thoughts and making him antagonistic. He wanted to inflict some damage back, if only to grant himself a reprieve.
He called no one.
It would be much more infuriating for the brunet to try to figure out what he was doing, pressing keys, while he was trying to drive.
He checked his email first, composing messages for work which would require a lot of typing, knowing that Raito's controlling nature would be snapping with each soft button click.
The brunet held his piece amazingly well, saying nothing for nearly 10 minutes of flurried clicking. L did not look at his face, but judging by the tightening atmosphere, he was having trouble keeping silent. While this went on, L was deciding who would be best to send a direct message to that could get him out of his current containment.
Watari... seemed a mixed bag. Like a pillar of 'I-told-you-so', his involvement promised its own sort of torture. But who else was there?
Well... if he really wanted to cause a stir... he could message him.
But should he? He most certainly would gain an immediate response. Especially given the history of recent events...
Was he really feeling that vindictive? Aiber would be the one to which Raito might react the strongest, but L had issues with Aiber as well. He had not forgotten the incident at the train station, the attempted blackmail of Raito, or the constant harassment the blond man had subjected him to. The blackmail was the worst - recalling how very close it had been that Raito might have been imprisoned if Aiber had gone through with everything...
L pushed that from his mind, not liking the memory of his reaction to that - how broken he'd felt when he realized he might be on the brink of losing Raito completely, or even what he'd gone through in order to protect him. There was even the distilled despair when he was told by the brunet that his suffering had been foolish, unnecessary, and had better not be repeated.
"What are you doing?" Raito finally asked, a tension ghosting in his voice that was definitely unintentional.
"Nothing," L replied shortly, not wanting to engage in conversation.
"You've been doing nothing with your thumbs in a noisy fashion for some time now." Raito sounded irked.
"I'm sorry, did I say 'nothing'?" L said, feeling overly irked himself. "I meant: 'It's none of your business'."
He could almost hear the grinding of teeth at that.
It served him right. How did he expect to all but dump me on my ass and expect that he could still reach over and control my actions, or my life? If he's absolving himself of everything, then I sure as hell am not going to lie down and make that easy for him.
It was easier to be angry than hurt. It really was.
It was best to focus on that and block everything else out so he could breathe.
If he didn't, his mind began racing as he contemplated the revolving door of Raito's home, the sultry smiles that could melt a person where they stood, and all the potential partners the brunet might be courting in the near future. It twisted his insides up so bad he was sure he was going to be sick and his head began to swim. The shaking started to take hold of his hands again.
Oh, the anger was so elusive. He clawed at it frantically, it being the only stability he could hope for.
Frankly, he felt like his chest was being crushed. So many scenes: Raito's enigmatic gaze locked to his, smiles playing about his lips, Raito teasing him mercilessly for his lack of people skills that day L accompanied him to work, being held close and finally believing he was necessary to the brunet... and so many others, so many words exchanged, all of them streamed through his conscious mind, making it seem so impossible that things had gone awry like this. There were so many things he'd endured, having identified Raito as something that he had somehow needed in his life.
---
If human hands had more strength in them, then Raito would have been successful in crushing the steering wheel by now with the punishing grip he kept upon it.
He wanted to wring the detective's neck.
How did he justify being spiteful and telling him that anything was 'none of his business'?!
He hated it when the other man said things like that. As if Raito were of no more consequence than the weather.
Lawliet did not show a flicker of jealousy when Raito suggested the alternative to the insomniac moving in with him could be a return to how things used to be. None. And previously the idea of Raito being with other people had really seemed to get under his skin. Here Raito had thought his dark-haired passenger might have just been missing the fact that if he were to live with Raito, he could be assured that Raito would not be bringing anyone else home. Wasn't that what he'd have wanted? More stability?
"Does this mean you rescind your rule about Misa?" he asked sharply.
Was Lawliet giving up on it all? Was jealousy merely the first to go?
For what had he gone through all of those maneuverings with Aiber and all the rest? What did it all amount to if Lawliet was being like this? If he no longer seemed to care as Raito thought he had?
"Do whatever you want," came the quiet answer. "You always do anyway."
---
It was with some surprise that L found himself waking up to the sound of the car stopping. He didn't recall falling asleep or even feeling tired. He felt a bit groggy as well as he lifted his head from where it had been propped against the window.
The automatic locks disengaged with an audible thunk. "Get out," Raito said stonily.
L felt a trickle of misgiving, but pushed his car door open as he was bidden. He looked around behind them and saw mostly open road as he patted his pockets for his phone. Had he dropped it on the floor as he slept? It did not seem to be in his possession.
The sound of a car door slamming shut startled him.
It was just Raito, coming around from the driver's side, face expressionless and intimidating. L also noticed that there was a building at which they were parked but there was no visible sign. Its walls were of rough hewn wood, seeming incongruously like a wood cabin.
"Raito, where--?" he began to ask, forgetting that he had decided not to engage in conversation.
Raito came up behind him, catching and twisting his arm behind him and pushing him forward roughly.
He was steered through a glass door, opening it at the brunet's nonverbal request, and came face to face with a bored looking young man with lank hair and a mouthful of chewing tobacco. He looked up from the desk he was manning. "Yeah?" he inquired in an appropriately bored, lackluster tone.
Raito tossed some bills on the countertop.
The young man looked at the bills with slight interest. "Change?"
"Not necessary," Raito responded.
The young man almost affected a smile, and coasted his chair backwards so he could select a tagged key from a wall of hooks. He slid it across the counter with a metallic scrape and said, "This one's real quiet."
L looked between the clerk and the brunet, not liking the tone of things one bit. Only he could not quite turn his head far enough to see the brunet with how the other man was standing nearly behind him.
"Raito," L said once they were outside again, "what are you doing?"
"None of your business," the brunet said darkly.
"Well it appears as if it is my business, seeing as how I'm involved," he protested. He tried digging his heels in to the dirt to slow their progress towards what had to be some sort of motel room in the middle of freaking nowhere.
"That definition did not seem to trouble you before," the brunet said caustically.
Oh yes, judging by the degenerating civility, this was not a Raito that L wished to be trapped in a small room with. And that unease was steadily increasing.
"It is my business what I do with my phone," he maintained, his feet scraping across the ground as Raito half dragged him across the packed dirt parking lot.
"In front of me," Raito growled, staring straight ahead towards his goal. "Therefore making it my concern. Stop splitting hairs only when it is convenient for you."
Room 14B loomed ahead like some nightmare monstrosity. It was the room on the very end of the building and no cars were parked nearby.
"Stop dragging me!" L finally snapped, trying to wrest his left arm out of the brunet's mechanical grip. Aside from their fight, he really did not want to be forced into some foreign rented room in the middle of nowhere with the oft unstable brunet. It just did not seem to bode well.
Not only was L unsuccessful, Raito grabbed his other arm and now had the two within his iron grasp. His wrists were grinding together slightly.
L cursed under his breath. He was feeling seriously unsettled now. What excuse could the brunet possibly have for stopping here? Or for manhandling him like this? "Where is my cell phone?" he asked, suspicious now that he had not misplaced it at all.
"You won't be needing it," Raito said curtly.
It occurred to L that even if he were to break free of the brunet's hold, he did not know which direction on that empty road would be the way home. And without a cell phone, he could hardly call someone to pick him up. The only thing he could manage was to perhaps borrow the phone in the office... but the clerk seemed to have been tipped rather handsomely just moments ago and would likely be less than helpful to him as opposed to the brunet.
Raito unlocked the door with his free hand, having little trouble doing so while he kept hold of L's more slender wrists.
Not for the first time, L damned genetics for making him smaller and weaker than the men he seemed to keep having trouble with in situations like these. It was worse with Raito than Aiber in some ways, because Raito himself was also slender and did not appear as if he would have an unfair advantage, but he did. Where L's shoulders were thin and tended to bow in with terrible posture, Raito's shoulders (not to mention his chest and back) were well-developed and solid. When it came to pure strength, there was no contest. L's wiry strength came from motion, from being able to pivot, dodge, or issue blows with his more powerful legs.
So it was hardly surprising that Raito was easily able to lock the door behind him, and force L face down onto the bed. His arms were kept pinned as Raito straddled him.
His legs, of course, were not possessed of enough freedom to be useful. What was surprising was the feel of something snapping around his wrist and the clink clink clink as it did so. He struggled as Raito pulled his hands up over his head and he heard the sound again, feeling something hard circling his other wrist.
His stomach dropped.
"Wha--?" he said in a startled voice as Raito's weight left him and he found he could not lower his hands.
He was able to roll onto his back, however, and did so before looking up at his entrapped hands. Unease rippled through him heavily, gripping his lungs.
"Novelty cuffs," Raito informed him airily (though they felt real enough), saying it as if that were perfectly normal. As if he were answering a more mundane question such as, 'what is the color of the car you drive?'. "You aren't the first to wear them," he added in a suggestive yet patronizing tone as his hawk-like eyes held L's.
L bit the inside of his lip hard, struggling not to react to that statement. His chest felt like a cage of glass being crunched beneath someone's boot - he could nearly hear the sound of it. His breathing accelerated shallowly with the effort.
He lied to himself, denying the prickling burn in his eyes. He could ignore it, if only he blanked his mind and did not imagine who those other people might have been, or the things that they and the brunet might have done together.
To say it was difficult was an understatement.
It was obvious that Raito was watching and waiting for a reaction, his face looking cruel and composed. L didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He had no idea what had really sparked off this odd behavior but he did not want to feed into it.
Given the other things the brunet had done or threatened to do, it was actually quite alarming - the current situation. This was not a well-peopled area, Raito was an unpredictable force at best, and he was currently handcuffed and unable to do anything about it.
It was a little hard to remain optimistic.
He supposed it could be worse, though at the moment, he was already having trouble dealing, so it was hard to imagine how.
---
Raito stared down at his captive, and his captive stared back at him with an unreadable expression. He felt only marginally better because of this. Fear, upset, something of the like might have assuaged this mood of his, this restless anger, but this he was denied. So he had Lawliet where he wanted him, but not yet how he wanted him.
This could be easily rectified.
"I'll be back," he said curtly, turning for the door.
"Wait - where are you going?" the detective asked, some subtle dissonance coloring his voice. The handcuffs rattled as he tried to sit up.
Raito regarded him coldly, mollified to see a flicker of reaction in those dark eyes. He then took out his pack of cigarettes and tapped one out of the package. Putting it up to his lips, he repeated, "I'll be back."
There was no reason to put a time to it, he thought as he went back through the door. For while he did feel the need to blacken his lungs, there was another thing or two he might be about in the meantime. And it wouldn't hurt to have Lawliet be left in the dark for an unprescribed amount of time.
---
Raito returned some time later. During his absence, L had strengthened his resolve to not be upset and to be as uncooperative as possible.
L's resolve did waver somewhat in light of the brunet's return, however, as seeing his face made the feelings much more immediate.
Raito calmly sat down upon the bed, his motions coiled as if to warn L not to even attempt lashing out in spite, and said simply, "Comfortable?"
Though it was inordinately difficult to imagine striking Raito at all (in truth it would be a useless thing to do seeing as he would remain chained to the headboard) he still felt the urge to do it as soon as the brunet spoke.
His only revenge would be in not answering. Above all, the man before him hated being ignored.
L shoved down the stream of panicked gibbering that the small voice in the back of his head was still letting out in response to being bound. Being restrained really rubbed against one's nerves if one was used to being in control of every aspect and nuance of their surroundings each day.
(What if you are left like this?) the voice was saying. (Or what if something happens to Raito and you cannot get free - who would think to look for you here? You'll die of starvation! ...though dehydration would come first...)
(Or what if he decides to do something awful to you? How would you evade anything in this state?)
L really had not specifically revisited his passing fear that Raito was a violent sociopath, aside from that moment last night, but the urge to do so was now not a small one. Was this not how many people had died at the hands of mentally unstable people? Killed by someone they knew, in a remote area, no one missing them right away...
"I would rather you answer me without any convincing on my part," Raito said in an inflectionless voice. "But I am prepared to do so if necessary."
L frowned at him - the only concession he gave to reacting.
He did not know what the brunet had in mind, though he had been fairly certain the brunet would not bring harm to him. That was curious though, seeing as Raito's behavior in other situations had been known to become violent or rough. He'd held him and Aiber at gunpoint previously, without batting an eye. He'd also subjected them to horrible, terrifying treatment over the following hours. Seemingly without remorse. Who was L to guess how far Raito would or wouldn't go?
"Who were you communicating with on your phone earlier?" Raito fixed him with a sharp gaze, warning him that cooperation would really be much more pleasant.
L debated his answer.
Raito drifted closer, like a menacing phantom.
"It is my own concern, Yagami-kun," he stated before Raito took his silence to be a willful one. He'd decided to hold his ground. To do otherwise was to give the other man the upper hand. This way, there might still be a chance that Raito would see he was acting unreasonably. It was all about the illusion of control and who possessed it. Raito had caved to him before. It was not impossible. He just had to put his foot down. "Whether it is personal, or for work, it is for me to decide what I might wish to disclose to you."
"Is it now? Even in your current position?" Raito asked snidely.
"And what position is this, exactly?" L questioned him with a carefully inflectionless voice. He didn't expect a satisfactorily informative response, but even a hint as to what the brunet might be thinking would be helpful.
Raito said nothing, but reached down to the floor to rummage in what sounded like a plastic bag. L had noticed him carrying something in. When he straightened, he placed a bottle on the nightstand next to the bed with a resounding clunk.
It was a bottle of clear, amber-brown liquid. Likely alcohol.
L met Raito's gaze for a long moment, frowning and showing his displeasure at the prospect before them. It was a willful glare. The same sort Raito was currently leveling back at him.
If you think getting me drunk is going to help you force me to talk...
"I'll ask you again," Raito said almost reasonably. "Who?" He was turning something in his hands idly as he waited for a response.
L sighed in annoyance. "I maintain that it is none of your concern and that will remain the case, no matter how many times you ask me."
Raito's expression changed minutely, but he was rather calm about pouring the amber fluid into the cheap shot glass in his hand.
L was quite confused then, when Raito did not force the drink on him but rather, tipped it to his own lips.
"No matter how many times?" the brunet asked in a falsely amiable tone, as if verifying something quite unimportant.
L felt reluctant to say anything. Slowly though, he nodded.
Raito poured another shot. His hands were unhurried and graceful. "Even if I am willing to answer your questions in exchange?"
He drank that one, too, while L considered.
Actually, seeing Raito drink in this situation made him more nervous for some reason than being forced to drink would have made him. "All right," he gave a token concession. "It was communications for work."
Raito smiled slightly and poured a third. "I do hope you aren't thinking such a half-assed answer would be good enough."
L cringed a little as Raito consumed his third fill of the glass, then a fourth, tipping them back carelessly, as if to say it was a punishment for his insubstantial answer. L realized quite suddenly that he had never seen the brunet inebriated. As such, he was fast coming to a point where he would not be able to know what to expect. Some people were amiable when drunk, some angry, sad or unstable. There was no way to know how it would be with Raito except that one could expect a lowering of his inhibitions.
"I was emailing 2 of my clients about their cases." He decided to offer some extra information, just to see if placating the brunet would still his hands. "I had not had the chance previously, so I did it when the thought occurred."
"Oh?" Raito said softly, turning a heavy gaze upon him. His eyes had a dangerous sort of heat in them. "And of all times, why do you suppose the thought struck you just then?"
"I don't know," L tried to lie convincingly. He was unable to hold that gaze, however. They diverted to study the bed's comforter almost instinctively, possibly ruining his act.
The soft clink of glass upon glass made him jump a little.
Damn.
He did not need to look to know that another shot of alcohol had been poured and would soon be consumed. His body tensed and he started to feel the undercurrents of frantic frustration that he was already losing ground.
"Oh, I don't know," Raito said placatingly, his voice sounding oh-so-smooth, "I think you do."
L chewed the inside corner of his lip furtively. He sensed now where this might be headed and the interrogation that might come about. Raito was trying to corner him into admitting he had been purposely trying to instigate him. He'd wanted to get a reaction and gain some equal footing in the basis of their fight, but he did not want to admit anything of the sort. However, he was not seeing a way to keep secrets while also stilling the dropping waterline of the alcohol bottle. "You obviously have some ideas about it. Why don't you tell me what you perceived?"
Raito gave a throaty chuckle. It was a rich, warm sound that spread insidiously through L's belly yet jangled his nerves like static.
"I think you are more than aware of how much I dislike certain behaviors of yours," Raito said languidly, eyeing him. "The more pertinent question is, for what reason were you trying to irk me on purpose?"
L revisited the moment he'd decided to compose those messages and the frustration/hurt jumped to the surface. The jealousy and helpless anger... His futile attempt to pay the brunet back in some way, immature though it was to do it the way he had...
Raito's current behavior was making him feel all the more irrational with how very laid back the brunet was acting. Oh, and it was an act. He was sure of it. Beneath the unflappable exterior, that tenseness and that waiting... they were still there.
L couldn't look at him. He stared fixedly at the dingy wall ahead of him instead. He'd already regretted openly voicing his feelings and motivations. They'd only been smacked down or thrown in his face. Did Raito really expect him to do so again? To say how much his words had hurt or how upsetting it was to hear him speak of being with other people again? That would be foolish.
"I'm waiting."
"I have nothing to say to you." L spoke quietly, not quite masking the clenching of his teeth. He held on to his anger, steeling himself with it. That was the only way to win this game, wasn't it? To not give in? To show no weakness that might be exploited?
A new sound voiced itself in the periphery. A rather solid, metallic click.
L's eyes whipped back to the brunet.
Raito was glancing down at his hands consideringly, while lightly resting his thumb against the blade of a large pocketknife as if to test its sharpness.
The effect that had on L was sudden and sharp. Fear crystallized in him and made him desperate to sit up. Especially when those eyes finally slid to him.
A knife. Such a tiny little detail, but one that put Raito firmly in control again, without question.
L swallowed.
Fear must have flashed upon his face, because the brunet smiled in response to something.
((Don't react! He's only trying to throw his weight around.))
Maybe the tiny voice in his head that was offering up advice was correct. On the other hand, it wasn't the one directly in the line of fire, and not reacting to a very large blade seemed outside of L's skill set.
Raito leaned forward, never breaking eye contact as he ghosted a kiss across L's trembling lips. The brunet looked engaged and subtly pleased about something, though L was not sure what. He was preoccupied with the knife that he could no longer see, and the biting of the metal cuffs into his wrists as he pulled against them futilely.
"Are you feeling ready to offer your real answers now?" the brunet whispered softly in his ear.
L was thoroughly disturbed that his voice could still sound so very sensual, even now, like this. It made him feel doubly trapped.
He would prefer not to speak, lest some nuance give him away, but it did not look as if he was being given a choice. "I was angry," he managed to get out.
Raito tsked under his breath. "I warned you about giving half-hearted answers, Lawliet." He pulled away and poured another shot, holding the knife easily and comfortably as he did so. It seemed familiar in his hands.
Further imbibing in alcohol while a weapon was present really gnawed at L's remaining self-possession. His hands twitched compulsively, wanting to snatch the bottle and glass from the other man. How many more missteps could he afford? How many more before Raito was no longer concerned overmuch with consequences?
L wondered if he was placing himself in danger with every act of rebellion or every response that was met with an miscalculated result. He cringed as the liquor slid down Raito's throat. The brunet's eyes were burning brighter now, looking more energized than before. He looked willing and able to address a challenge.
To his horror, Raito immediately poured another shot before pausing to look at him expectantly, small glass poised to his lips. A civilized threat.
"I was--" his hands fisted briefly as he forced the words out, "I was trying to get even, I suppose."
"For what perceived slight?" the brunet asked, lowering the glass.
A reprieve... A reward for answering the way he wants...
L shifted, discomfited. "For..." Gah! What was he supposed to say? The truth? But he'd already tried that and all it had served was to piss the other man off. But there was nothing else for him to speak but the truth, right? "For what I've already said..." he began, finding it difficult to go into greater depth. Words were escaping him.
Raito's gaze narrowed, warning him that that response was not going to be good enough.
The knife danced in the brunet's restless hands. L cringed backwards as it moved closer, horrified when he felt the cool blade against his stomach.
It was brief, however, and the blade was turned, poised to threaten only the buttons along the seam of his shirt. He jumped with each one that was severed and popped from the garment, exposing his skin to the air, his nerves fraying.
"Raito, stop! Please!"
______________________
Continue to part 21b…
(I had to break the chapter in two.)