Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Psych ❯ Fixation ( Chapter 5 )

Psych
Death Note AU
(L/Light or Light/L)

Summary: Sometimes the strangest of happenings, by that merit alone, are the most memorable. Lawliet, a professional who makes his living by understanding the workings of the human mind, finds that a chance meeting throws him a real curve. Yaoi. (As always, it will be of the L and Light variety)

Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for full disclaimer.

---

Chapter 5: Fixation

“Good morning, L.”

“Morning,” L mumbled through a yawn. He’d been getting even less sleep than usual. Somehow, Light had finagled him into going out almost every night this week. Perhaps it was the promise of figuring him out that had lured him in. Regardless, they never seemed to talk about much in the way of personal topics. Conversations had been more in the vein of recent events, books, politics, etc. Even things that related to their jobs hadn’t seemed to quite come up naturally.

It was aggravating.

The time was well spent, enjoyable even. But. BUT. He was no closer in determining anything important about the mystery Yagami Light presented. Each night, he told himself that he would finally work everything out, even to the extent of determining whether or not he should continue in the man’s acquaintance. But, by the end of the night, he would realize that he was no closer to his goal than before.

Coffee. He needed coffee.

A small rebellion was mounting in L’s sleep-clouded mind. He didn’t even hear Sophie trying to talk to him. He bee-lined to his liquid addiction and poured a ridiculous amount of sugar into it. As it slowly sank and dissolved, he recalled Light’s ribbing him over just such a thing that first night they went out together. It had prompted more than a few jokes at his expense, which should have been irritating, but instead Light managed to tease in a way that was...

Ugh! He was a damned psychiatrist, and yet he had no earthly idea how the brunet managed to make fun of him while also seeming to be flirting and undressing him with his eyes. There was this... this AURA about him - this stupidly compelling way about Light that just pulled him into the other man’s pace, forgetting everything else.

You really are a jerk, he thought as he knocked back half a cup of the near-scalding coffee. Good thing the massive amounts of sugar had cooled it down a bit.

He should probably cease and desist with Light.

Turning the idea over in his head, he sounded out how he felt about that. Again, the results were inconclusive. He drained the rest of the cup and set about refilling it. In any case, going out every night was not sustainable. It wasn’t like they were having sex, either - they were legitimately going out.... possibly on dates, though the brunet had adamantly denied such a thing. They seemed to get along quite well, the time passing too quickly. But that was part of the problem. He couldn’t allow things to get too involved before he found out more about Light himself.

So, it came to the rebellion. Since he was not finding out what he wished to know, he would just stop the going out before it was a habit. He’d half-heartedly refused to go out before, but the brunet had always managed to convince him to be dragged along.

Maybe a couple of days or longer would change a few things. Perhaps he’d sort out how to be able to swing the conversation to the things that were pecking insistently at the back of his mind.

---

Light stretched, his big leather office chair spinning slightly, then rested his chin on his hand as he stared at nothing in particular. He had finished his clients for the day, and was finding himself at a loss. He was, if he didn’t know better, listless.

Usually, he knew just how to handle people, but as of late, he’d become less certain.

Sure, his clients left his office, more-or-less pleased as usual, but they weren’t the issue. It was a certain colleague of his. A certain dark-eyed, blunt and impassive doctor who was, at times, impossible to read.

L, or Lawliet, as Light preferred calling him, was a puzzle. It was obvious that the man was interested in him, more than just physically, and yet.... he had an air of reluctance about him which was hard to crack. It was a sort of wariness and there was the impression that he was on guard at all times, just beneath his cool, collected exterior. Light took pains to chisel away at it, sometimes just through the simplicity of teasing or light insults which were sure to get a reaction. But even those reactions were not well beneath the surface. They came and went like wind and rain upon a giant ocean, ineffectual in stirring the currents.

Light had to smile in amusement, the situation being what it was. The two of them were laughable, courting each other when both of them were psychiatrists. Wasn’t that a prize? A sure thing for failure.

Maybe that was the reason behind Lawliet’s avoidance of terming their interaction anything so permanent as dating (as impermanent a thing as that can be). He couldn’t be sure. All he knew is that he’d seen the stubborn streak rise in Lawliet the moment he’d asked about going out for coffee the first time. He’d had the notion that agreeing it was a date would stop everything in its tracks. So, of course, he lied.

It wasn’t his first choice. He rather liked how Lawliet’s own bluntness encouraged him to say many of the things on his mind that he might otherwise filter out and never speak aloud. It was a bonus to see when something he’d said managed to actually shock his stoic companion, though it never seemed to have a lasting ill effect. However, he had to play his cards close to his chest or else end things altogether.

It was also getting harder and harder to divert conversations away from anything too personal. He wondered how long it would be before things came to the breaking point.

---

L went home after work to feed the cat. Then, he rummaged around in his closet, found some old clothing that looked nothing like anything he’d worn in the past several years and put it on.

Black jeans, which had been a gift from his adoptive father, and leather boots, which were from Sophie - she’d claimed that no one can live without at least one pair of good boots and was aghast that he’d owned none. She’d likely be more aghast if she found out he’d not ever worn them in the two years he’d had them. He also had a black and grey hoodie he’d purchased out of desperation on a poorly timed and very rural vacation a few years back. ‘Scotland’ was proclaimed in very large letters across the back, in plaid, along with a giant plaid silhouette of a thistle. It was sort of obnoxious and sort of charming in a way that had kept him from throwing it out, though he’d considered it on multiple occasions, and had earned it a place deep in the back of the closet where it could be forgotten about.

Finally, he crammed a hat down over his hair. He wasn’t a big fan of hats. Still wasn’t, really. He wasn’t even sure how or why he came by this one exactly, except that one time at University he managed to get utterly smashed, he’d woken up at someone else’s house, on their couch, curled around said hat like he was a kid with a teddy bear. He’d kept it for years, never quite able to get rid of it in case someone showed up on his stoop one day, asking for its return. Unlikely, he knew. Besides, he didn’t even know whose house it was - no one had been home when he woke, so he just left. It had been late at night, and he’d still been very drunk, so the thought of looking up the house number and address later had never occurred.

It was a dark, military-style brimmed knit cap with “Eat Shit” emblazoned on the side. The red letters were dark enough that it shouldn’t be too noticeable unless someone was staring right at it. Or so he hoped.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

Oh yes, absolutely disorienting. He hardly recognized himself.

L went to his dresser and rummaged around in a drawer until he found a lightly tinted pair of sunglasses, just dark enough to hide his face, but easy enough to see through at night. He put them on and checked his reflection once more. Oddly enough, he looked kind of trendy and fashionable, in a somewhat drug-addled way. The cap pushed his shaggy black hair down almost to his shoulders as well as out of his face. The shades had a mirror tint that reflected the light and sat well just under the smart brim of the cap. His skin looked designer pale. He shook his head and the stranger in the mirror did as well. Huh.

Disguise complete, he headed out for the night.

---

Light looked at his phone apathetically, uselessly reading the message he’d received earlier one more time as he leisurely took a sip from his G&T.

He wasn’t much of a drinker, or bar hopper, for that matter, but he hadn’t felt like doing much at home when he got off work, so he’d gone out. Coffee and the like was much more his thing, but he didn’t feel like small comforts. Besides, going out for coffee had become inextricably entwined with Lawliet in his head, which aggravated him.

Oh yes, he’d much rather frequent a bar for the evening than go somewhere that would do nothing but remind him of dark eyes and the company he was used to having with him, which were withheld from him this evening.

He let loose a sigh and signaled the bartender to refill his glass.

It’s only been... what? A week?

(Light, Light, Light, you’re losing your touch.)

Maybe he was losing it. When had he ever felt remotely attached to someone this quickly? And it wasn’t even that noticeable a thing. Until now. Just now, he felt all sorts of irritation at having the possibilities of the evening whittled down to nothing. By all rights, he should just find something or someone else to occupy him, but he couldn’t be rid of the annoyance that jagged through him every time he carelessly thought of Lawliet. They’d talked and talked each evening, drinking loads of bitter coffee (though in Lawliet’s case, it must have tasted purely of sugar), all the while studying each other surreptitiously. Gestures, expressions, body language. There was so much more said there than mere words. The words weren’t even important. The looks, however, were. The way their eyes would meet or part, the casual brushing together of one of their leg’s against the other.... the quick wetting of lips. It was all delightfully engaging.

He’d let Lawliet keep his distance, but at the same time he would keep reeling him in. He made no overt advances, though he flirted subtly all the same. It was a fine game and he loved picking up on the inconsistencies in his companion’s manner. He surprised himself with how often the urge came to touch Lawliet’s pale skin or tilt his face up for a kiss.

The alcohol burned on its way down, as if trying to burn away the fixation of his thoughts.

How ironic it was that they’d shared the practice of visiting other doctor’s offices in the guise of patients? He’d almost died of laughter when he’d realized it, seeing that it was Lawliet’s face lighting up in shock as he’d lowered his shades (and seen just whose office he happened to be in). It had taken him by surprise as well, seeing Lawliet’s face revealed from behind the sunglasses, but it was so goddamn interesting and perfect. And just like his first meeting with the wild-haired doctor, he was so taken with everything about him that the urge to jump him just became overwhelming. The expressions Lawliet made in reaction to him and the grudging attraction in his dark eyes... not to mention the exhilaration he’d felt when they’d begun trading words, skating around insults, games, and professionalism...

He took another drink, trying futilely to dispel his wayward thoughts as memories of the dark-haired man falling prey to his lips and hands made his body throb. That first kiss - or even the second - there was so much raw energy in it, so much passion. He’d wanted to devour those things. Swallow them whole.

The crux of it was... the reticence Lawliet displayed. Not with sex, but with unmasking himself. His true self. It was there in brief flickers, but he hadn’t yet found a way to pry free the cage that had been set about it. And it was a fickle trap. One that might backfire if worried too relentlessly.

Oh, the conundrum of it all. Who would have thought a little thing like office gossip about the competition would have led him here? He’d hardly believed that such a small outfit as L & Associates could possibly house anyone with skill, and eventually he’d decided to see it for himself.

So, here I am, nursing a drink, an infatuation, and a bout of existentialism.

He laughed, smiling ruefully. The bartender sent him a questioning glance as if to ask him what was so funny. “Here’s to romance,” he said drolly with a tilt of his glass.

---

L was bar-hopping. He’d admit it.

Part of it was to reclaim some feeling of independence, to remember what things had been like before the cat, and before Light. Part of it was to rid himself of the cloying feeling of incompetence he’d suffered at the last psychiatrist’s office.

Gawd, he thought, slurring a little even mentally. Fucking ridiculous, poorly educated.... the rant went on almost unnoticed in his mind as he scuffed his feet on the dark, wet concrete, hood pulled up over his cap on account of the rain. His hands were jammed deep into his pockets to avoid the chill on the air.

He should just stop this fruitless exercise already, before he became an alcoholic or something.

Warmth and laughter spilled out onto the street from an open door.

He cast his eyes up over the doorway to see the name of the establishment. “Last Orders” the bar sign proclaimed. He shrugged. Sounded good enough. Besides, he was tired of walking and the light and ambience was inviting compared to the cold dark.

He pulled the hood back off of his head as he went inside.

It seemed almost more like a club than a bar. Navigating the people and smoke was almost akin to dancing. The music blared and pulsed loudly, but not so much as to be painful. Gads of drunken people swayed to it, weaving and moving amidst and with each other. He did the same as he moved forward, quite comfortable in his guise of someone that wasn’t him, the melody sowing itself in his ears and guiding his feet. Women with lightly teased, spiky hair and extensions swam in front of his eyes, dancing before and with him, swirling around and trading places. Sometimes it was guys with various styles of hair and dress. All of them shared being caught up in the moment, dancing with him, whoever caught their fancy, or whoever happened along.

Some got a little touchy feely, placing a hand upon his hip or chest as they shimmied to the floor and back up again, or moved in close, but it wasn’t personal. It was just they way of the dance. There was just a movement and energy about it that was affecting people as much as the alcohol. His hat seemed to garner special favor, and one especially enthralled young lady stroked her hand across it before falling against him in a brief kiss. She winked and patted his cheek playfully before fading back into the crowd.

---

“Hey, Handsome,” a feminine voice said at Light’s elbow.

He turned, a canned smile upon his lips. He was feeling pleasantly dulled by the alcohol and had just been starting to appreciate the atmosphere. The place had gotten a bit more lively now, and he liked the energy. Here was a place where people acted on impulse, no matter how debased it might seem at the time, using the flag of alcohol to explain away their later embarrassment.  “Hello,” he said, using a voice that his patients seemed especially enamored of. She was exceptionally pretty, though that was no indication of whether she would hold any interest. But, what the hell. “Care for a drink?”

“Already indulging,” she said with a giggle, holding her glass up and sloshing it only a little. Her hair seemed to be a blue-lavender, with both curled and straight sections that were held into twin pigtails. Her straight bangs swept over her eyes. “What’s your name?” she asked, her gaze shining with promise.

“Lawrence,” he said, not really sure why he’d used Lawliet’s alias at all.

She giggled again, sidling up to him. “That’s a silly name,” she said coyly, “and long.”

“Do you know of something better?” his lips tilted in a slight smirk. How ridiculous.

“Well,” she drawled, placing a small hand on his chest, “How about Law? Or L?”

He laughed, genuinely. L? Oh, how priceless. “Excuse me, Miss-?” he said, turning to grab his drink off the bar and taking a hearty swig, trying to curb his mirth.

“Lucy,” she said hopefully.

Well, he supposed he could entertain her for the moment. It was a fair trade in amusing him so thoroughly with that.

---

L finally made it up to the bar. Some girl with weird-colored pigtails was loitering in front of the only open stool, preoccupied with a guy on the adjacent one, so he had to go down to the other end of the bar to gain the bartender’s notice.

He ordered a longneck and spared another glance down the bar. Something about that girl and guy bothered him.

“Here you go,” the bartender said, handing him the bottle.

“Thanks.” L put money down and slipped back into the crowd which, somehow, seemed less crowded than the bar.

---

“Let’s dance!” Lucy said in Light’s ear, getting into his personal space about as much as humanly possible.

He looked out over crowd, feeling rather ambivalent. He wasn’t really in a mood to shake his ass like the rest of them, however...

“Pleeeeease,” she cajoled, pulling on his arm.

However, as he’d been randomly scanning the crowd, a few people had caught his eye. Might as well get a closer look.

He pressed a kiss to her mouth to shut her up, rendering her rather awestruck. Then, he led her into the press of bodies.

It was mayhem. The music rushed like a live thing, strobe lights flashed and skin was bared and visible everywhere. Much like Lucy, many of the girls were wearing thin-strapped tank tops and they danced like they were having sex. He played the part, but his eyes were roving. The bass beat into his body like thunderclaps, the strobes casting white and shadows upon the moving bodies like lightning. So many faces, so many details to catch the eye. But nothing that stood out so much as.... There, with the mirrored shades. That’s the one.

“Elllll,” Lucy simpered, distracting him with his false nickname, and he lost sight of the person again. Damnit!

He wrapped an arm around his witless date and kissed what little sense she had from her head. He could tell when her knees were just about to go weak and that is when he did his disappearing act.

---

L had completely lost track of who he was dancing with. Everything was a blur. Not yet in a bad, hangover sort of way, but in that shining edge of almost-too-much which was more a euphoric high than a signal to stop. He usually didn’t overdo things, but too much was going on in his head lately, and it was so freaking nice to have it all fade into the background.

It was also liberating, being part of the grinding crowd like this. Taken in, accepted as one of the masses, pawed and danced with in a way that was somehow just an ego boost more than disturbing. He wasn’t thinking too much, but it did cross his mind that if random strangers were wanting to get up in his business, than it wasn’t so inconceivable that Light had done so. Maybe it had all been legitimate after all.

Someone’s hands alighted on his hips from behind as a girl with magenta and black hair and a lip ring danced in front of him, hands knotted behind his neck. It was amazing he could see at all through his shades, transparent enough as they were; it was so dim in here. She leaned in, up close and personal as she grooved out, and the person behind him did likewise. He could feel the heat of their body against his back, not quite touching except against his backside, and the way their hands guided his hips as they moved to the music. It seemed more scandalous, somehow, than the other dancers thus far. He was torn between moving away and distraction.

The hands slid down his hips caressingly, taking liberties as they swayed to the thudding beat which was only marginally louder than L’s thudding pulse.

He told himself to melt into the crowd, but he was rooted to the spot. Magenta girl was either happily oblivious or didn’t mind being part of a sandwich. A questing hand trailed up his abdomen, under his hoodie, making L’s eyes nearly roll back in his head and he was pulled back against the person’s body. Such sure hands, tracing his skin like they were familiar with it.

Oh, he was much too drunk for this.

He couldn’t even properly resist when a gentle, firm hand caught his chin and tilted his head back for a kiss. Soft lips and a passionate mouth moved against his, making reaction jolt through him almost as quickly as familiarity.

Was he drunk and delirious enough to be hallucinating? Or was this really....?

But why would Light be here? It seemed inconceivable. But who else had ever kissed him like this, making thought damn near impossible?

The hand stroking his stomach was slipping lower again, playing at the waistband of his boxers which stuck out a bit over his pants. Then, lower.

Good God.Desire struck him deeply, like some sort of ill-fated arrow touched with poison.

His partner released him, just as he was about to break away to keep his knees from buckling. He turned, snatching his shades off his face meeting Light’s honey-thick gaze without barriers. How in the hell?

It must have been written all over his face.

Amusement lit up Light’s sultry features. “Keep dancing,” he said, pulling close again.

L’s gut clenched in desire and his face flushed as their hips brushed together. It seemed that Light was just as turned on as he was. “Did you even know it was me or was that a mistake?” L asked in a contrary tone.

Light leaned in to nibble his ear. “Maybe it was a happy accident,” he proposed silkily, knowing it would wind Lawliet up.

“Maybe you’re full of crap,” L countered, though he’d stiffened.

“Maybe so,” he agreed.

“You didn’t know I was here.” Dancing was a farce; it was more like struggling against a closing net of desire.

“No. And you did not know I was here, either.” Light’s hand trailed up his back. “I’m surprised at you, Lawliet,” he said against L’s mouth, “letting a stranger touch you like that.” His words sounded heavy, slow and seductive. “And kiss you like that,” he murmured, ghosting a kiss across L’s lips. “How equal-opportunity of you.”

“Shut up,” L said somewhat breathily, though he sounded annoyed as well. “You couldn’t know it was me before you sought me out. If I’m guilty, you are as well.”

“Au contraire, mon trésor en sucre. I knew it was you the moment I saw you.” Light traced the curve of one of Lawliet’s hotly flushing cheeks, smiling alluringly. “Your pale skin,” he said, “and the shape of your lovely mouth...” he leaned in and drew the tip of his tongue upon L’s lower lip teasingly. “How could I not have recognized it?”

“You’re never going to let me live down my sugar habit, are you?” L said in response to the embarrassing yet compelling sound of French on the brunet’s tongue.

“Where would the fun be in that?” Light kept up the teasing but, looking at Lawliet, he was about as starry-eyed as he himself felt. He wanted so badly to find a convenient wall to push him up against. His imagination had been running quite rampant for some time now, in no small parts thanks to the alcohol which was undoing the better portion of his self-restraint. “Hey,” he whispered in his ear. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you to leave this mindless pit of abandon... in favor of something full of mindless abandon?”

“Are you hitting on me?” L’s stomach was doing flip flops. God, Light’s voice was like total porn.

“Whole-heartedly.”

“You sounded almost prim and proper this time,” L gave him a hard time, “I could hardly be sure.” It certainly was a change from, ‘I want to fuck your brains out.’

“Which one is more effective?” Light asked with a charming smile.

“The kind where we leave now,” L replied, avoiding a real answer. He hardly needed to hand the brunet a golden piece of information like that for his arsenal. Besides, he was afraid he was going to give into something even more indecent in public if they stayed much longer.

“I happen to know of a car parked conveniently close by.”

“Good. Fine.” L took a deep breath and started the tricky maneuver of making his way to the front door through the jamming sea of people. Honestly, this was the last thing he thought he would be doing tonight.

Light hurried to keep pace with him. When he pulled even, he slung a possessive arm across L’s back, sinking his hand into his front pocket. He leaned in close to L’s ear. “Ever done it in the back seat of a car?”

L felt his face flush for what seemed like the millionth time that night. Light was positively gifted with surprising him with what came out of his mouth, as well as with the scope of his actions. The interludes of PDA were bad enough, embarrassing if they weren’t so rousing. (Not to mention the people he’d caught staring, quite a few with fascination); But there was also the matter of how the lining of his pockets was incredibly thin and he could feel every errant movement of stroking fingers. “Have you?” L returned.

“Not yet,” Light said, tossing him a boyish, yet deviant smile.

L shook his head. “Now why do I find that hard to believe?”

They ducked around a group of drunken, mindless dancers, almost clear of the fray.

“I haven’t the slightest,” Light said airily. “You must be magnificently distrustful of others.”

L shot him a baleful glance. “Oh, I’m sure that’s it.”

Light tossed him a kiss and a sexy wink.

Oh yeah, he just loves fucking with me for some reason.

Cool air hit them like a blast as they stumbled outside.

L stumbled quite a bit more than he thought he should have. He held his arms out a little for balance as he swayed. He heard snickering, and he favored the brunet with what he thought was a rather dignified, pointed stare. He wasn’t that drunk.

“Look at you,” Light laughed, doubling over a little and nearly losing his balance. “You’re totally drunk.”

“Sober enough to do this.” L swung a backhand at his arm, very nearly making a solid hit. Nearly. The whole swinging motion turned him around a bit like a top and renewed the brunet’s laughter.  

“Brilliant! Brilliant!” Light got out, really doubling over with laughter now. His cheeks were flushed with cold and mirth and he looked nearly as wholesome as a boy scout. It was a horribly misleading vision. That mind was about as dirty as they come.

“I’ll have you know,” L slurred a little as he drew himself upright, “I am a blackbelt in... something... and...” was he feeling this drunk before? He hadn’t thought so, but stringing words together was becoming an increasingly Olympian task. “And, I could kill you with one blow,” he concluded. “With my feet.”

The brunet found that even funnier. He was barely breathing now and he was shaking with silent laughter. It was probably a good thing he had the storefront of the bar to lean against or he might have just collapsed in the street.

L shuffled over to him. “You do realize,” he said importantly, fisting a hand in the front of his companion’s shirt “That if you’re as drunk as I think you are... the backseat is a moot point?”

“Bite your tongue,”  Light scoffed. His eyes were bright, shining with insane amusement and the glaze of a happy buzz.

“Rather bite yours,” L said, pulling him into a rough kiss.

Drunkenness apparently did nothing to stem the brunet’s ability to make his knees go weak in seconds flat. Light’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling them bodily against each other.

It was hot. So hot.

He could hardly remember it feeling cold just moments ago. He was overheating and wanted out of everything he was wearing. Light’s mouth pulled at his, melded with his, and undid him. Feelings racketed through him - desperation... peace... and the desire to fall into Light and never surface. There was also the urge to feel the brunet’s beautiful lips and the heated embrace of his mouth upon every inch of his body.

Light pulled away, just barely breaking the connection. “You’re going to get us arrested.” His eyes were black as midnight, hardly any of the golden irises visible around the edges. Desire was such a compelling look for him.

“Not if you get us arrested first.”

“On another night, I’d take that as a dare. Right now, please just get in my car.”

“Is that the sound of your self-control snapping?” L said, brushing their lips together.

Light made a noise in the back of his throat and his eyes fluttered shut briefly like he was trying to keep hold of himself. “Mmmn, no. That happened at least 20 minutes ago.”

“You must be running on fumes, then.”

“Lawliet,” Light groaned as L kept tormenting him. “Car, now. Otherwise, you have ten and a half seconds before I start ripping your clothes off right here in the street.”

“Are you sure you can count that high right now?”

“No,” the brunet said, a deviant smirk starting to tilt his lips. “I might miss a few numbers.” He actually had the gall to reach down and undo the button on L’s jeans. He also had the zipper part way down before he could be stopped.

L grabbed the top of his pants in a fist and peeled the brunet off the wall, tugging him along ungracefully towards the parked cars. He had no idea where he was going.

“This way,” Light said, hooking an arm through his and veering left.

L recognized the black Porsche, the one with the red leather seats, at about the same moment the lights flashed, indicating the car had been unlocked by the keyfob in Light’s hand.

They climbed into the car and soon discovered a flaw in Light’s plan.

“Shit,” Light said as he contemplated the backseat. The Porsche had something of a slightly raised center console bisecting the bucket-style seats. L was sitting sideways in one, leaning his back against the interior of the car, and Light was hovering over him, knees upon the other.  “This is the wrong car for this sort of thing.” There would be no laying down here.

“Then put that sexy brain of yours to good use and be creative.”

Light slanted catlike eyes at him. “Oooh, does he have a mouth on him.” He slinked over the obstacle which L’s legs were currently bent over, and straddled his lap. He took a small triumph in the way Lawliet shuddered at the contact. “You and your stupid, sexy hat,” he murmured against L’s mouth as he dragged the hat from his head and kissed him hard.

The back seat was still a horrible design, any way you looked at it, but in a few short minutes, it hardly seemed to matter.

Light had detoured long enough to sit up and drag L’s pants down off of his hips, removing one barrier between them before sinking back down upon his desperate body. L’s grasping hand grabbed hold of the ‘Oh (expletive)’ handle on the ceiling of the car as Light ground against him, making his eyes roll back in his head like they were never coming back. “God,” he breathed out. There was also this rolling thing he did with his hips that just... just....

“Fuck me,” he said against Light’s mouth as the brunet moved in to claim it once more.

Not that they could do anything like that without a decent amount of a flat surface to lie upon. Damn stupid expensive fucking car, he thought through the haze of sensation. Who the hell would design seats like this so you couldn’t even...?

He started to shudder and lost his train of thought as Light reached behind him to stroke the tops of his naked thighs.

Uuuhhhhnn.

Light’s hand cupped the side of his face, fingers and palm lying against the curve of his jaw with his thumb caressing his cheekbone. It was a gentle, possessive touch which gave Light complete control over the movement of his head as the brunet dominated his mouth.

L’s chest rose and fell with stilted breaths as the aching in his groin sharpened, expanded, sharpened, then exploded.

He cried out as orgasm rolled him like a toy ship on a rogue wave.

Light rolled with him, caught in the same gale. His hand slipped down from L’s face to grip the back of L’s neck as he sucked in a breath. “God, yes,” he gasped as he began to shudder violently.

When it was over, Light’s head sank down to rest in the crook of L’s neck. “Maybe I can forgive the Porsche after all,” he murmured in a voice that sounded like it had been sucked dry.

L was pretty sure his own voice had no life to it in the least, so he simply brought his hand up to rest atop the brunet’s silky head in silent agreement.

---
TBC

A/N: I think I may have topped the elevator scene in Pitch with this.


(Random inappropriate places to have lurid sex. Cough cough.)