One thing Raito had never considered when he'd
agreed to be chained to L was the bathroom. It was understandable
that he would; it wasn't like he had nothing else on his mind, but
trying to piss while L stood close by wasn't a problem he'd ever
thought he'd face.
Of course, L was turned politely away, studying the far wall with
great interest but Raito's bladder took some coaxing before it
finally gave in, reluctantly, and he sighed his relief, trying not
to think of just how long he might be stuck peeing for an audience.
Or worse.
The handcuff kept sliding down his wrist while he washed his hands,
irritatingly chilly despite the long contact with his skin. It was a
necessary evil if it was the only way he'd be allowed to assist in
the Kira investigation and the sooner that was finished, the sooner
he could go home.
He was more tired than he'd expected. So long in captivity, he felt
like his edges were dulled, weighted and stupid. He leaned against
the counter, the coolness of the porcelain bleeding through his
pants, and rested his face in his damp hands. So very tired, and it
made frustration itch inside his skin because how could he help like
this, what could he do, and never before in his life had to wanted,
so badly, to just go home.
A hand on his back startled him, remarkably gentle. "Are you all
right?"
It made him laugh, a jagged sound edged with bitterness. "I'm not
really sure. Should I be?"
There was a touch of warmth at the nape of his neck, a kiss? It made
him inhale sharply, swaying back towards the body behind him. The
man who'd imprisoned him, accused him of being a murderer. Tricked
him into thinking his own father would murder him, and L was
touching him so lightly that Raito might have screamed from the want
of something else.
The hand on his back was warm; the press of fingers on his shirt
made Raito want to strip it away, almost annoyed that something so
immaterial as clothing was separating them. He turned around
quickly, slipped his arms around L's neck, his mouth already hot in
anticipation of a kiss. It was a shock to see L's eyes were distant,
lost and cool, and his hands were suddenly on Raito's shoulders,
holding him back.
"You're not Kira," L said flatly. "Something was controlling you."
"Yes," he agreed, bewildered. "I've told you this before, I--" His
arms tightened automatically, telegraphing need, want...please
please...
"No."
L pushed him away until he had no choice but to step back. He
watched in silence as L turned away, chewing on his forefinger, the
already raw skin breaking open and a trickle of blood eased out to
stain his lips. It was almost garish against his pale skin,
vanishing as L licked it away with the ease of one long accustomed
to it.
This was...this wasn't right. His sluggish thoughts struggled back
to life, trying to find reason in this. He reached out and touched
L's back, and watched as L flinched away.
"Don't touch me."
There was pain, hard and glass-brittle, and Raito couldn't help but
laugh. He was suspected of being a murderer, had thought his own
father was going to execute him and the man he'd been sleeping with
was...what?
"That's why you slept with me. You really thought I was him," he
whispered harshly.
A glance, those eyes so strange and cold. Had they always been that
way, Raito couldn't remember, it was like his thoughts had been
blurred, a phantom hand dragged through lines of charcoal. "Of
course."
Get to know Misa, get intimate with her...
"That's what you did to me, isn't it? Got to know me, got
intimate with me...does my father know that, too? Were they
watching on your cameras? Think your boys kept tapes of it for jerk
off material?" Raito was cold but for the burning in his face, hot
blood searing his cheeks.
"No one else knows." Very softly, was that a flicker of something in
his eyes? It could be anything from impatience to...something else
and Raito didn't know what. There was more emotion in the eyes of a
painting than this thing masquerading as a human. If Kira was
a cold-blooded killer than at least he was straightforward about his
murdering.
"So what? You're disappointed I'm not Kira and it's over?"
"Raito, none of this would have been necessary if I hadn't
suspected--"
"No," Raito cut him off. "No, you're disappointed because you wanted
to be fucking him. You wanted to be with Kira and instead you got
Yagami Raito, and he's just a puppet for the real Kira. He's the one
who's your friend, isn't he? Not poor Raito."
"Don't be ridicu--"
"--not good enough for the likes of L, am I?" It felt like someone
else's hands, moving through water to knot into L's shirt. He shoved
him backwards and L stumbled, flailing out with his free hand to
grab the edge of the sink. The cheap, tiny bottles of shampoo and
lotion that lined the counter rained down on the floor and Raito
watched those wide eyes widen even more, his stranger's hands
carrying them both down to the carpet. "I'm not who you thought you
were fucking."
(...god, what am I doing what...)
Raito tangled the chain between them into his hand, yanking up on it
and forcing L's hand behind him, his knee in the small of his back.
Pointless, because L wasn't really struggling but to some part of
him inside, it felt so good. He hadn't asked for any of this, there
was a ghost of an ache inside him, demanding some penance, some
atonement for all he'd gone through.
He leaned in and rubbed his cheek against L's, met nothing but warm,
smooth skin. He breathed hotly against L's ear, felt him shiver
minutely beneath him. "Can they see us? Are they watching us now?"
"No." A gasp of air, L's head shook back and forth. His hair just
brushed the carpet, black against beige. "No, they aren't. I'm--ah!
I'm watching you."
"Yes." Raito whispered. "Watch me."
L's clothing was so loose it was easy to push it down with one hand,
his pants bagging around his upper thighs, exposing the warm curve
of his ass. He had to give L credit; his ass was one of his better
features, slender hips that pushed up towards him, his back forced
into an arch, trying to ease the pressure on his arm.
One bottle of lotion was within reach and Raito managed to fumble
the cap off, one-handed, spattering lotion on L's back and ass and
the visual of it, white streaks on pale skin, nearly made him laugh.
He bit it back, not wanting to hear his laughter right now,
half-afraid it would be more of a scream.
Fingers slick with lotion, he pushed them inside, through the
resistance of stubborn muscles until his knuckles were encased in
heat. L twisted beneath him, soft, sweet little sounds deep in his
throat, God, such a slut. Whoring himself out to find Kira, using
his body, his face, his cock, any part of him he had.
"He didn't even do you himself. He used me to touch you," The
laughter did come then, low and dark, and L tensed beneath him,
drawing tight around his fingers. "Used me like a fucking condom."
"Stop," L said, suddenly. His compliance evaporated, and he tried to
push up on his knees, trying to escape. Raito gave the chain in his
hand a hard yank, jerking L's arm upward and he subsided with a
grunt of startled pain.
"He used you. He beat you." His own blood was filled with
sickly heat, the buttons on his pants maddeningly defiant until they
finally parted and he shoved them down. He was aching for this, his
cock painfully hard, and L was squirming beneath him, the fingers of
his free hand digging into the carpet, but it didn't keep Raito from
pushing inside. L made a high, thin sound, barely audible, and Raito
nearly came just from hearing it.
"Stop it!" L rasped out, as desperate as Raito had ever heard him.
"Call them," he taunted, licking at the soft curve of his ear. L
shivered so deeply that Raito felt it from within. "Yell for my
father, for all the detectives. They'll save you, won't they?"
The metal chain was eating into the palm of his hand, body-warm and
he clenched his fingers around it sweatily, looping his other arm
around L's neck to cup his cheek. He ran a thumb over L's lips,
inviting the bite and it was shockingly gentle, L's mouth hot and
wet.
"Yes," L whispered into his palm. "Yes, but who will save you?"
It echoed into his head, even as he was moving, pushing into the
deep, dark heat of L's body. The muscles in L's back tensed with
each thrust and it didn't take long before he was moaning with each
one, raising his hips in a silent plea for more. The light behind
Raito's eyes was red with it, even as he tried to get deeper, even
as L made that soft, lovely sound beneath him that meant he was
coming, the skin beneath him glossy with sweat and so good to be
touching someone else after so long alone. Even touching them like
this with words lost inside him.
There was no one to save him from himself.
Sitting as far away as the cuff would allow, Raito leaned against
the smooth wood of the countertop, blew out a slow breath and drew
another one in. Slowly, calming the wild thrum of his heartbeat, the
rush of blood within him.
L stood in front of him, watched him dispassionately as he fastened
his pants. He slid his hands into his pockets and said nothing.
Waiting, perhaps, thinking whatever thoughts lived in his brain.
Raito kept his eyes on his lap, on his own hands.
"I'm so confused," he whispered. His hands were palm up on his knees
and he could see deep grooves from the chain in the right, already
purpling into bruises.
"I know." A gentle hand in his hair startled him and Raito looked up
at L. His dark eyes held no pity, no warmth...but they didn't hate
him either and he supposed that was something.
"Do you think I'm insane?" Raito wasn't sure he wanted to hear the
answer but at least he could count on L telling him the closest
truth that was possible.
"I don't know," L spoke with quiet honesty. "I don't have enough
information to say for certain. I do think Kira was controlling you
and in that case, it's perfectly understandable for you to be
confused."
It sounded reasonable enough but it didn't soothe him, the deep
sting of guilt inside him but he didn't apologize. L wasn't about to
for what he had done, he knew. If the uncertainty of his words
bothered him at least it was better than seeing it in his eyes,
better than the surety of a lost mind. "Let me help you get Kira."
Quietly. "He used me, too."
Head down. Softly. "Yes."
A hand slid into his vision, offering, and Raito took it, allowed
himself to be pulled to his feet. L was still standing close to him,
forced intimacy by the cuff binding them together and his face was
so close, pale and smooth, that Raito nearly kissed him. He reeled
back a step and turned away. They weren't lovers, not even really
friends, and they had a murderer to find.
He followed L back out into the main room, with the investigators
and laptop computers, shuffling papers and cups half-filled with
coffee littering the room. His father was absorbed in his own work
but spared him a glance, his love visible in his eyes and it made
something coiled tightly inside him ease, just a little.
But L was so close, only as far away as the chain between them could
allow and Raito couldn't escape from that any more than he could
have escaped the cage he'd been in for so long. The smooth line
between his shoulder blades was too tempting, begging for fingers to
slide down, to feel the gentle bumps of his spine. Raito clenched
his hand into a fist, the bruises etched into his palm aching, and
wished he could just go home.
-finis-
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