Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Psych ❯ Necessary Means ( Chapter 6 )

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 6: Necessary Means

“I think you’re a bad influence on me,” Lawliet said later, back at Light’s house. It was a fair supposition, seeing as they were wearing nothing but their own skins and a fading afterglow.

Light groaned, rolling slightly upon the bed as he covered his head with his hands. “Lies. You’ve corrupted me with drink.” His head was already starting to pound ominously. “I never have this much.”

Lawliet had the gall to laugh at him.

Well, not outright, but it was apparent in his expression that he was merely holding it in.

The dark-haired man propped himself upon one elbow and regarded him lazily, like he had not a care in the world. Bastard didn’t look ill in the slightest. “If you’ll recall,” his dark-eyed companion said, “we didn’t have a single drink together. You can hardly pin this on me.”

“Oh, you and your logic,” Light said, flipping over and shoving his face into his pillow. He’d taken pains to drink a bunch of water. He was hoping it kicked in soon and evened him out. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d had enough alcohol to actually feel bad, and he certainly never thought the elusive doctor would be around to see it.

A hand smoothed over the back of his head, petting it like a cat. It was likely to placate him, but just now, Light could overlook it because it felt kind of nice.

“You know,” Lawliet said, keeping his voice low and soft in deference to Light’s current state. “We’ve never actually had a drink together. Not once. It’s kind of funny, considering.”

“Champagne didn’t count?” Light asked, muffled by the pillow.

“Did you actually drink any of it?”

“Mn. A little.”

“Yes, so as I said, we’ve never had a proper drink together.”

“Not by my choosing,” Light pointed out. “I did try to have you take me up on the offer.”

L was silent for a few moments. Then, Light felt fingertips upon his back begin tracing haphazard, leisurely designs. It was nice. Calming, yet sensual. Intimate. It actually surprised him that Lawliet was doing it at all. Not that he would say anything. He didn’t want to ruin it. So he just nestled his face more comfortably into his pillow, which was cradled upon his arms.

“And yet, after that you only ever invited me for coffee.”

“Mn.”

The fingers traced the curve of his spine in a long, slow line. It was infinitely distracting.

“Any reason?” L asked.

Light didn’t say anything for a minute. “Maybe,” he relented. Perhaps he could be a little more honest, now. The mood seemed more promising, somehow.

Fingers glided back up his back, and a warm palm smoothed across his shoulder blades in an arc. God, the only thing that could feel better than this would be an actual massage.

“Inclined to share?”

Light gave it one last consideration. He didn’t want to ruin anything on a whim, after all. But before he came to a decision, he felt Lawliet’s leg slide over him as the other man straddled his hips and sat upon his backside. Strong hands alighted upon the flesh of his back, thumbs pressing into the muscles on either side of his spine and firmly pushing upwards, traveling towards his neck in a way that felt Oh, so good. They began to work at the hidden tension in his shoulders and upper back. It was turning his entire body to jello, it felt so amazing.

But there was also the matter of feeling Lawliet astride him like this, and his weight pushing his hips into the mattress. It was more than a little erotic.

“Light?” L inquired, leaning down to his ear to speak.

Light shuddered a little. He could feel the heat of Lawliet’s body against his back, and it was so incredibly inviting. It was almost enough to make him forget he’d been feeling sick. “Were you a masseuse in school as well?” he asked.

“No,” L responded, fingers moving to work again. They found the back of his neck and the base of his scalp, rolling, smoothing, and feeling generally fantastic. “But I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Yes,” Light agreed, his voice coming out like little more than a breathed moan. Unintentionally, of course. God, his hands are just...

“You were saying?” his companion prompted. “About the coffee?”

“Mnnnn. Yes......” Oh, it was incredibly hard to gather his thoughts at the moment. “You were so against a drink before. I thought coffee might be more agreeable.”

“As a date?”

Danger. “Maybe.” This situation was not ideal for this kind of ground to be covered. He didn’t want to compromise himself by saying anything that was unacceptable. But it was a little hard to think in such plotting ways just now. He could hardly keep words from rolling off of his tongue.

“Yes or no?” the reticent man insisted as he started working the knots from Light’s upper back.

It was nearly painful and yet it wasn’t. It felt utterly necessary and was relaxing him even more as it steamrolled him, forcing a soft groan from his lips. “Yes,” he admitted. “Yes, I thought you might object less to coffee.”

“So you lied about it being a date.” Lawliet’s hands upon him had stilled.

Goddamnit. “I just wanted to spend some more time around you,” Light said, practically holding his breath. “Does that have to be called a date?”

“I suppose not,” he relented, resuming his massage.

Light sensed the retreat and decided to pursue. “Why does it matter so much to you? These labels you seem intent on placing upon things.”

L’s hands froze mid-motion for a moment. “It doesn’t,” he said. “I was just asking.”

Light pushed himself up, turning over. He stared Lawliet in the face and said, “You’re lying.”

The dark-haired man kept his expression flat, but his eyes flickered in reaction.

“You’re lying,” Light repeated, trying to evoke a greater response. “Why?”

A frown twitched upon pale lips. “Why would I lie about something like that?”

Lawliet was spooking.

Light grabbed his hands, sitting up and holding fast. “What is it with you?” He searched his companion’s face, eyes skimming every feature, seeking any minute expression that might live on that impassive face for even a moment. “Why that distinction? What does it matter?”

“I don’t know what I want,” L said, his eyes slightly wider than normal. Everything in his body language screamed ‘let me go’, but Light wasn’t holding on all that hard. Lawliet was simply trying to keep his reactions in check, and his real feelings were just bleeding through.

“Most people don’t,” Light countered, catching Lawliet’s gaze with his determinedly.

“But--” L’s mouth turned down, working. He seemed frustrated, as well as on-edge and flighty.

“What are you afraid of?” Light asked pointedly.

L looked aside, thoughts running over his face like water.

Light almost felt like he was at work, trying to crack into someone’s tough exterior, to dig out the issues. But this was infinitely more important. Definitely more high-risk. “Lawliet, what are you afraid of?”

Dark eyes glanced back at him, surreptitiously. His face was suddenly folding in on itself, closing off. Damnit. “Nothing,” he responded. Even his hands in Light’s had stopped pulling away. Damnit, Damnit!

How do I fix this??

“Want me to drive you home?” Light said as if nothing was amiss.

L raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

“Absolutely horrid,” Light agreed. “Though you must have magic hands because I am suddenly feeling like a new man.”

Lawliet looked a little pleased at the praise, like he’d never received it before on this particular thing.

Light released L’s hands and let him get up off the bed, then made a show of rolling his shoulders. “You do that for people often?”

“Um... not really.”

Light risked shooting him a smile. “Seriously?” Then he looked away again as he shook out his limbs and stretched. Too much eye contact and Lawliet would move further out of range, he was sure. “But you’re so good at it. I’m surprised.”

“Well, school was stressful.... I learned how to do it from a roommate I had. His mother was a masseuse. There were a few of us who learned and traded favors.”

Light’s eyebrows raised a little and he couldn’t help saying, “Any other favors to go along with that?”

The dark-eyed doctor looked startled. “What? No.” He was shaking his head and he looked a little flustered. “No, nothing like that.”

“Why not?”

Haha. Now he looked even more flustered, standing there.

“Um,” L said. He looked anywhere but at Light. “It... It just wasn’t like that...”

Light slipped off of the bed and strolled over to him, right into his personal space. “You weren’t interested in your friends like that?” He could feel an insinuating smile upon his lips. He couldn’t quite suppress it. “Can I assume then, that when we first met and you said you didn’t take kindly to being kissed by a patient, let alone a man....?”

Adorably, Lawliet put a hand over his face to hide a pink flush of embarrassment.

Light smiled wide. “You’d truly never entertained the thought before me?”

“Shut up,” L said, wiping that hand over his face and trying to compose himself.

“I’d say, ‘I’m flattered’,” he laughed, “but I’m sure that would piss you off.”

“How astute of you,” the dark-haired man said under his breath, still seeming more out of sorts than irritated.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Light offered again. “I’m alright to drive now, and you wouldn’t want to be any later, seeing as you have work in the morning.”

“Oh, so you noticed?”

Ah, so was that part of the reticence? Control and also the career? “Of course. I’m not daft, nor am I inconsiderate.” Lawliet gave him a look that was to the contrary. “Oh, come on, I never truly interfered with your work.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Light tilted his head back in a somewhat imperious stance. “You, the insomniac, were being held prisoner by myself and coffee, more than by your own affliction?”

His companion chewed on the inside of his lip, looking stubborn.

Light sighed. “You could have simply said something if it was such an issue. Set a time limit or...”

“Would you have respected that?”

“Probably not, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t uphold the request. Work is work, after all.”

Lawliet looked upon him, his gaze considering.

Now was the time to leave things off. They were in a much better place now than earlier. It would be better to end it this way. “So, ride home?” Light asked.

“All right. Thanks.”

---

“I’m home,” L announced to what was essentially an empty apartment. As he made his way inside, slipping off his shoes and pulling off the hoodie, he noted that Blackie was dead asleep on the couch, snoring a little.

He had the inclination to pet her soft tummy as she dreamed, paws twitching in the air, but he didn’t want to wake her, so he on past to his bedroom.

His thoughts were full of everything that had gone on throughout the evening. He and Light... it was as if they were two magnets, drawn together. Who could have expected that of all the bars, they would end up in the same one, and end up leaving together?

I like him.

Crap. I really, really do like him.

The more he tried to keep his distance, the more Light seemed set on bringing it crumbling down around him.

Even later on, at Light’s house, he’d started pulling away; and it was as if Light could sense it on the air -he’d locked on, engaged and somehow turned things about.

L shook his head. He wasn’t even sure how the brunet did it.

He’d actually lied to me; he as good as admitted it. About something important, no less. But he twisted things around to be about something else entirely - about me.

‘What are you afraid of?’

Oh right, like he was going to spill his guts so easily.

L dragged his shirt over his head. His gaze strayed to the bed, and he could vividly recall the look of it with the brunet lounging upon it.

It’s only been about a week for godsakes. What am I doing getting all moon-eyed over someone this fast? It was stupid. Ridiculous.

Part of him actually had wanted to stay with Light tonight - the part of him that was becoming increasingly irresponsible and prone to bad judgment.

He kicked off his shoes and went into the bathroom to wash his face. Ridiculous, he thought, through soap and water and toweling off. He reached over to replace the slightly damp towel on the rack, and caught sight of himself in the mirror. Bits of his spiky hair were dripping water, pure black, like tiny ink brushes trailing against his skin. He swept unruly, jagged hair back from the side of his neck with an angular hand and turned his head a little.

The hickey was still there.

It still looked like a wound on his pale skin, just like Light had said before. He touched it with ginger fingers. No, it no longer hurt. He almost wanted it to. Then he could feel, viscerally, the imprint the brunet had placed upon him, and their interaction would stop feeling like something that would dissolve like mist in daylight.

L drew his hand away in disgust, his circling thoughts oppressing him. He batted the light switch off and started unfastening his pants.

When did it get like this?

When had I gotten stupid like this? Was it overnight? Or was it years in the making and I just never noticed?

He kicked the jeans into a corner of the room and walked back into the living room. “Blackie,” he called in quiet voice. He didn’t do it because he expected the cat to answer, but just to get it used to its name.

She still lay on the couch, tummy up.

“Blackie,” he said again.

Her ear twitched in response.

“Cat?” he tried dubiously.

Her little slitted blue eyes opened a crack, rolling back to look at him then she gave a mighty yawn.

He scooped her up and she paid him little mind, settling back into sleep. He started walking back to the bedroom, cat in tow. “Blackie,” he said again as a test.

One ear flicked in a way that looked like she was saying, ‘Shuush.’

“Cat,” he said.

Again, the blue eyes opened marginally and she looked at him blandly like he was simply the biggest moron on the planet right now for continually disrupting her sleep, despite how tolerant she was attempting to be about it.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

This seemed to mollify her and she tucked her furry white head down under her tiny paw.

Ok. What does one do about a pet that doesn’t respond to its own name, but answers to the name of what it is? He couldn’t really go around calling her ‘Cat’, could he? Hardly seemed proper, did it? People would think he was an odd, maybe a negligent pet owner who couldn’t be bothered with something as simple and important as a name.

He deposited her on the foot of his bed and rubbed her little head, just about the ears. Her eyes didn’t open but she tucked her head deeper under her paw and started purring.

(Well, it could also be that she realizes how dumb the name Blackie is for her.)

Hmn.

L turned off the light and got into bed, trying to keep his thoughts on the cat as he tried to fall asleep, and not everything else.

---

A pain in his chest woke L up from a dead sleep in a slight panic. He was disoriented, thinking of knives and hostage situations, dreams clinging to his eyes and mind.

“Mrrow,” came the noise just in front of his face as needles dug into his skin like slow torture.

“Cat?” he said as he winced. He was relieved, but damn those little claws hurt. What the hell time was it?

The clock across the room glowed at a steady 4:05.

Good god.

“Ow, ow, ow!” he said as the kitten resumed kneading its paws on his chest, purring like a little motorboat. He extricated himself and sat up, shaking his head in an attempt to rouse himself.

“Mrrow.”

He looked down at the kitten in his hands. “What, cat?”

“Mrrrow!”

Somehow, this did nothing to convey her intentions.

He lifted her up in front of his face, giving her a bland look. It was too damn early for this. “What, cat?” He’d actually been asleep. Deeply asleep. This was a travesty. What was this little furball thinking waking him up at 4 a.m.?

“Mrr-ow?” She blinked at him, ears cocking back, then forward, while she purred even louder, like it was a defense mechanism.

L sighed and plopped her down on the bed. He rubbed his abused chest and his fingers came away with a tinge of red. “Damn cat,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Mrrrow?”

There was probably no use trying to sleep now. Even if he was tired, he’d likely just lie there unable to fall back into unconsciousness. That’s how it usually went.

He shuffled into the kitchen, rifling a hand through his unruly hair. About the only thing that could improve the morning right now was coffee. His bleary eyes were hardly useful, but he managed to find what he needed to get a brew started.

Guess I could go into the office early, he thought, feeling less than enthused over the prospect. The coffeepot burbled happily. I can catch up on some things... paperwork.

“Mrrow.”

The cat was back, looking at him expectantly.

“Mrow.”

He regarded the nuisance with a stern look, not failing to notice how cute the little terrorist was. “What do you want from me? Hmn?”

She opened her mouth wide. “MrrOW! Mrrow-OW!”

She seemed emphatic. He was at a loss.

“Guess I could feed you?”

“Mrrrow!”

“Right, then.” Doing things before coffee. This just might be the death of him.

Ten minutes later, cat was happily chomping through her food, purring like a maniac, and he was sitting on a stool at the counter, nursing a cup of hot, overly sweetened coffee.

What did I get myself into?

“Cat,” he said, giving the kitten a bland look.

“Mrrfff?” She didn’t exactly stop stuffing her face, but she did seem slightly more attentive.

“We need to set some ground rules, here.”

---

Catching up on things at the office was about as enlivening at 5:30 a.m. as it sounded at 4 a.m. this morning. That is to say, not at all.

“Good morning, Sophie,” L greeted his surprised assistant when she came in at eight.

“Good morning,” she said, looking him over with either caution or concern. It was hard to tell which. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s odd,” she said, hanging up her coat. “Seemed to me you’d been sleeping alright lately.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Actually, he had. Apparently, his system was backwards enough that staying out late and drinking copious amounts of caffeine was enough to make him sleep like the dead. Inconceivably, Light’s logic on that matter had seemed to ring true in the end. Instead of staying abed and waiting for sleep, he should just stay up all hours of the night. Prior to meeting the brunet and doing just that - retiring at a reasonable hour - he hadn’t been sleeping as well. It was a fact. It irked him, because it shouldn’t make any sense.

“How is the cat?”

“Fine.”

“Something on your mind, Lawliet?” Sophie was frowning at him.

“Is being cute a defense mechanism?” he asked suddenly.

She gave him a weird look. “Are we talking about the cat? Or something else?”

This startled him. He’d meant the cat, of course, but... “The cat, the cat,” he said, shaking his head in denial and returning her weird look. But... somehow it seemed equally applicable to a certain brunet who was good at getting his way.

“Okay, alright,” she said, holding up her hands. “No need to get worked up.”

“I’m not worked up,” he said.

“If you say so.”

“I’m not,” he stressed and took an angry swig of coffee. His hand was shaking a little, like he was anxious. Why was he reacting like this? And so transparently - fooling no one but himself? It was utterly unnerving. “What did you think I was talking about?”

Sophie pouted at him, looking like entertaining this was the last thing she wanted to be doing - on par with cleaning tile grout just after having her nails done. “Well...”

“Because I was only talking about my cat,” he insisted. His words came quickly, daring her to contradict them.

“Right,” she agreed.

“Who woke me up at an ungodly hour,” he said with an increasingly acerbic tone, “stabbing her little nails into my chest like a pincushion because, apparently, she was hungry.”

Sophie just nodded, her eyes a little wide. He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t sounding harsh or combative like her look implied. Anyone would have been aggravated over the way he’d been woken this morning.

“So tell me, Sophie,” he said imperiously, “what else could I possibly have been talking about?” He polished off his coffee in clipped motions.

“Erm...” She fidgeted, not wanting to field such a question. “Well, it seemed to me that you might be seeing someone. So...”

God. Did she have to be so completely right? Well, he had hired her for her brains. “And what gave you that idea?”

“L......” she implored, wanting to be free of this conversation before it got any worse. She was positively wilting, and looking hopefully at the phone as if willing it to ring.

“There must be something,” he persisted snappily.

“Not that it’s any of my business...” She sighed. “But aside from the hickey--” She tread carefully and gave him a look that said, ‘Don’t jump on me for that, you already knew that I knew.’ “There was also the day I had lunch with my sister. You left suddenly but your car was still here. It looked to me like an impromptu tryst.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m seeing someone.”

“Of course it doesn’t.” She looked a little peeved. “Though I’d hope you wouldn’t leave me stranded for some nothing sort of fling.”

“It’s not like that.” He did feel bad about cutting out that day.

She rounded on him, her patience lessening as his ire deflated. “Well, which is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Lawliet, there isn’t a lot of wiggle room here. Either this person is a fling or you’re in a relationship.”

Dread washed through him. “I think you are writing off a ton of gray area here.”

“No, I’m not. You’re just being.... overly particular.”

This annoyed him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the psychiatrist,” she said curtly, “figure it out.”

He swallowed his initial response of aggravation, as she actually seemed properly mad at him now, and tried to apologize. “Sophie...”

“Why don’t you get yourself some coffee,” she suggested shortly. “I have work to do.”

“Yeah...ok.” He crumpled the styrofoam cup in his hand and tossed it out. Damnit. He hadn’t meant to start a row. They’d never even really argued before.

He got out a new cup and made another cup of coffee, more for something to do. The atmosphere was uncomfortable now, and it was all his fault. He entertained the idea of leaving the office, but it would only make things worse. They both needed to work in order to keep the doors open. And he’d already been unreliable as it was.

“You have an appointment in ten minutes,” Sophie told him, her voice containing nothing but professionalism. There was not even a trace of her usual, easy-going friendliness.

“Thank you. Just send them right in when they get here.”

“As you like.”

The day dragged on and on and on like Time had decided it simply couldn’t go on and had offed itself in a melodramatic fit, leaving the lot of them trapped in drudgery forever.

Maybe lunch would offer a respite.

Or maybe he should try apologizing again.

Apologizing was definitely the more uncomfortable option. It was probably the right one.

He made his way out of his office and could hear his Sophie laughing, “Oh, stop!”

He thought for a moment that she was on the phone but he also thought he could hear another voice. Well, at least she seemed in a better mood now. This might go easier than expected.

“Sophie, I--”

“Oh, L!” she interrupted, turning to look at him as he rounded the corner. She looked a little flushed. “You have a visitor.”

L’s feet stilled.

“He can wait,” Light said enigmatically, effortlessly pulling Sophie’s attention back to him. “Now, where were we?”

L felt his blood boil.

He was here under what pretense? He came in as a patient the last time, and for all Sophie knew, that is what he was. Patients couldn’t just ‘drop by’ and expect to see him. And flirting with his receptionist was unacceptable. As was this dismissive behavior towards him.

“Can I help you, sir?” L said cordially, as he leveled Light with a glare like frozen daggers.

The brunet had the gall to lean in and say something in Sophie’s ear, setting her atwitter. His eyes flicked briefly to L, taunting him with the smile that accompanied whatever words he was speaking.

It was one of those bright, shining smiles that were like the sun breaking through the clouds. Just now, it spiked through L with rough agitation. He bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

‘What are you afraid of?’ Light’s words from the other night came back to him, a mockery.

What indeed.

L went back into his office and grabbed his coat. He shrugged into it as he walked back out. “I’ll be back in an hour, Sophie,” he said shortly.

“W-wait,” she said, standing up. “But Light came here to see you--”

Oh, so we are on a first name basis now?

“He can wait,” L said flippantly. He didn’t bother looking at the brunet. He seriously wanted to punch him. “I’m sure he’ll be quite happy to pass the time with present company.”

With that, he started for the door.

“Doctor,” Light’s voice arrested him. It was so smooth and unhurried. He clenched his fists within his pockets. Professional. Act professional. Stop letting him get to you.

“Yamaguchi-san?” He turned around, his best blank face in place.

Sophie was looking back and forth between them, looking tense.

“I thought I saw you the other night. You dropped this.” In Light’s hands was the military styled hat with ‘Eat Shit’ stitched along one side. That side, thankfully, was turned down, out of sight.

When had he lost his hat? Hadn’t he been wearing it when he got home?

Light’s voice matched his eyes, sly and solicitous, as he said, “It is yours, isn’t it?”

L remembered suddenly, Light dragging the hat off of his head, then kissing him madly. It must have fallen to the floorboard in the back of the car...

His face flushed a little, against his will, and he beat it back with a vengeance.

Light’s polite smile turned somewhat indecent and his eyes grew warmer and were intent upon him. They were very obviously thinking on the same course of events. ‘Fuck me,’ Light mouthed the words back at him that he’d said that time when he’d been overwrought with desire.

L bit the inside of his cheek for an entirely different reason this time. It was inordinately difficult to keep expression off of his face. As it was, his face probably betrayed even more color than before. “Yes, I suppose it is. Thank you.”

Light held it out to him, seeming quite like a stranger who was holding out candy to a child.

He took it gingerly, and jumped a little when Light’s hands closed upon his own. “It’s the least I could do,” Light said, holding his gaze. “You gave me so much to think about during our session here.” L’s hands were shaking. Why was Light doing this to him? “I haven’t stopped thinking about it, either. When can I see you again?” He was doing a right shoddy job of playing at being a patient. There was too much innuendo and questionable behavior.

The feeling of panic was doing its best to be unrelenting, possibly trying to kill him with heart failure in the next moment or so.

“If you mean an appointment, then Sophie will assist you with that.” He managed a deadpan voice. A small miracle.

“Of course. Be seeing you, Doctor.”

L practically fled the area as Light turned back to his assistant. He took the outside steps at an accelerated pace, his heart pounding in his throat. Only once he got into his car did he let all pretence fall apart.

He slammed his fist against the door of the car, beside himself with confused frustration. “What the fuck?!”

What was Light playing at?

Last night, he’d seemed set on winning my trust, then today... Today he’s chatting up Sophie, ignoring my existence, then practically busting a move on me in front of her. I don’t get it!

---

L returned to the office in an even lower mood than he’d been in all day.

“Welcome back,” Sophie greeted him. She didn’t even seem upset any longer. That should have made him feel better, but it didn’t. He was too certain that Light was the reason for her change of heart.

“When is my next appointment?”

“In about 20 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

Damn him. Damn that rotten bastard for making him give a shit about this. And damn him for wooing his receptionist. It was heinous.

L went into his office and closed the door, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down.

“You look stressed.”

L whipped his head up to see THE rotten bastard lounging against his wall, where he would have been hidden by the door as L came in. “What the hell are you doing here?” Tension he’d managed to dispel earlier rippled through him like it had never left.

“Now, now, no need to be rude,” Light said calmly, strolling over to one of the chairs in front of L’s desk. He sat down like he belonged there. “Your lovely secretary said I could wait in here until my appointment, which is just a little ways off.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” L said stiffly. Patients always waited outside until they were called, not left to roam about their doctor’s office. There were files and all manner of things they could get into.

“Hmn. Yes, she thought so as well. It took some doing to convince her otherwise.”

Oh, and what kind of convincing did that entail? “Get out.” He knew he had a full schedule. Sophie would have had to call someone to take a later appointment so that Light could be here as a ‘patient’ right now. If he ever found out there was something like a quickie involved, he’d kill him.

“What for? I have every right to be here.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice was like steel. “You aren’t a patient, you aren’t anything. Get out of my office.”

Light’s expression darkened, and it was unlike anything L had seen thus far. “Putting aside the favor I did you of making Sophie stop being angry at you,” he said, rising to his feet, “which you are being obnoxiously ungrateful for, you might want to revise that little statement in the face of your rampant jealousy.”

“I’m not jealous.”

Light put his hands on the desk with a thud, leaning over them. His eyes were like twin blades. “You’re fucking jealous, and you know it.”

L gritted his teeth. “Would it make you feel good to think so? What would the point even be, Light?”

Light cursed under his breath and pushed away from the desk, turning his back and walking a few paces from it. He brought a hand up to his face and it looked like he was taking a deep breath or two.

“You’re an idiot,” Light said tightly. “Nothing but a brilliant idiot.” He turned sharply on his heel and shot L a withering look.

L got to his feet, the fight coming out in him. If looks could kill. “An idiot for entertaining the likes of you, I suppose?”

Light laughed sharply. “You can’t even see it. Inconceivable to me as it is, you just don’t see anything.”

“What I see-” L indicated all of Light with his eyes, “-is a heaping pile of contradictions.”

“And where does the confusion lie? Is not stronger within your own mind than it is with me or my actions? I’ve been an open book with you.”

“Hardly.”

“Whatever it is that you’re afraid of, it’s making you blind. Stupid, and blind.”

L’s hands were shaking, he was so mad. “You come in here, seduce my assistant, and then have the balls to tell me you aren’t full of misdirection? Insulting me on top of that, repeatedly.”

“I’d insult you all damn day if I thought it would do any good,” Light shot back.

They were practically in each other’s faces, voices just low enough that they wouldn’t carry.

“I would punch you in the face right now if we weren’t here in my office,” L said darkly.

“Oh?” Light sneered. “Because I 'seduced' your secretary?  And what would you do if I’d fucked her?”

L grabbed him by the front of the shirt, “I’d make you really regret that - till your last breath.”

Light grabbed L’s hands and held them like vices. “Sounds like a crime of passion, to me.” His eyes blazed and he forced L backwards, making him stumble to keep up. “Funny thing to occur when jealousy is absent, don’t you think?”

L’s back hit the bookcase.

Light hadn’t actually done it with her... had he?

His eyes burned a little as despair washed over him.

“Think about it, Lawliet,” Light pressed, his tone softening, sounding just the slightest bit imploring. He was too close. Too affecting at close range. “You know what jealousy means. You don’t get possessive over a one night stand.”

L sagged in his grip, head falling low. He knew that much. He knew he cared, it’s just that he’d been trying not to. “Was Sophie your way of making a point?” he asked under his breath. The flirting, the ignoring him, was it simply to show him he could feel jealous?

“What do you think?” Light’s tone added on, idiot.

“Why are you here, then?” L didn’t completely accept his explanation. Not yet. There wasn’t enough information. Had he come simply to cause trouble? Or was the trouble an afterthought?

Light dropped his hands and moved away. “Just wanted to see you, I guess.” He stopped meeting L’s eyes. “And I had the feeling you wouldn’t want to do lunch. I figured if I came in as a patient again, it would get me further.”

L brushed off his sleeves as if they needed dusting off after their encounter. “Further with my receptionist, you mean.”

Light made an irritated noise. “Nothing happened.”

L gave him a sidelong glance, not buying it. “Well, that must have been one hell of a nothing to turn her mood around like that.”

The brunet pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I mean, it didn’t mean anything. At least she isn’t mad anymore.”

L sank back down into his chair and put a hand over his face. “Now she really is going to hate me, if she ever finds out.”

Light sat on the edge of his desk. “So don’t tell her about us.”

“There is no ‘us’.”

“Yes, thereis. Denying it just makes you look like an idiot, as I’ve been so tactfully trying to point out.”

L gave him an incredulous look. “There is nothing tactful about you.”

“Oh, Lawliet, must you sensationalize everything?”

“Well, seriously.”

“If I invite you out for a drink,” he changed the subject, “are you going to turn me down again?”

L let out a sound of exasperation. Light was looking down at him with an expectant light in his eyes. A bit of a challenge in them.

“As a date,” the brunet added stonily.

“...” L said.

“As in, we are dating, there is an ‘us’ and we are, in fact, in a relationship,” Light continued, staring him down and daring him to be contrary about it.

“It’s only been a week. How is that a relationship?”

“Most people don’t fuck each other right off, I figure we’re more advanced and we just skipped some of the preliminary dating time.”

Usually the brunet would have tempered something like that with a smile, but his expression didn’t change.

“Ah.”

“Quit stalling,” Light said, leaning over and tipping L’s face up to his. “Call it what you want then, but at least admit that we have something between us.”

“Yes, we certainly do.”

“And that something compels you to let me take you out, just as it lets me have my way with you.”

L swallowed as the words set off some butterflies in his stomach. The brunet’s lips were hunting his now, his breath soft upon L’s face.

“Just say, ‘Yes, Light, I’ll do whatever you want.’”

“Why would I do that?” Light’s voice was starting to transfix him. It was sweeping him away.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” the younger man promised, trying to coax him into cooperation as he brushed their lips together.

“You don’t play fair,” L murmured.

“‘Fair’ doesn’t get me what I want.” L could feel the brunet’s lips curve into a smile against his own, just before he was kissed thoroughly.

---
TBC