Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme

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Welcome to the Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme!

How it works:

* Comment anonymously with a kinkfic request. All requests must contain a character or pairing/threesome/moresome (any combination of guys/girls/shinigami/whatever are OK, crossovers are fine too), and at least one kink. If you need inspiration, check out this huge list of kinks by eliade.

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A Sort of Power, part 6

[anonymous]

And Light kissed him.

“You’d do anything to be in control, huh?” Ryuk said, and cackled. “Bit of a weakness you’ve got there.”

Light blocked out the unearthly laughter, instead concentrating on the kiss, on opening his mouth and sliding his tongue against L’s, on winding his fingers into hair and clothing. After a stunned pause, L began to reciprocate, his hands moving up and pushing Light’s shirt off his shoulders while his tongue came to life. Even while L was lying spread-eagled on his back with Light over him, kissing him aggressively, he was still trying to be in control. Then again, Light would not have expected anything else.

He left L’s mouth and moved downwards, tugging his shirt up and returning his attentions to the pale skin across L’s hips, his tongue following the movements of his fingers. L sat up a little, craning his neck, his thumb resting on his lip, and watched him. The detective’s face was at last a little flushed, and while he was not out of breath, his breathing was at least audible. Light smiled to himself.

“I was under the impression the moment was gone,” L said.

Light dipped his tongue into L’s navel, earning the briefest of gasps. “I was just annoyed.”

“I would not want to think that I had pressured Light into doing this.”

Ryuk snorted. For once, Light agreed.

“No,” he said, “I want this. I was just sulking before.”

“It’s going to be tough to explain that away though,” Ryuk commented. “Just tell him you’re doing it to get power, why don’t you.”

Light rolled his eyes. Was Ryuk aware of the stupidity of what he said? Was he perhaps doing it deliberately to irritate him? Certainly the death god seemed to be enjoying the effect his words had on Light.

L had caught the expression on his face, and seemed to have taken offence. “I am sorry I misunderstood.”

“No,” Light said. “No. Let’s just forget about it.”

The whole thing was an inconsistency that worked against him, he thought as L’s hands at last tugged his shirt off and threw it to one side. Hopefully he could distract him for long enough that the topic would not surface again. He ran his tongue down L’s stomach and began working at the fastening of the older man’s jeans with his teeth.

L pulled his own shirt over his head at once. One of his hands rested by his mouth, his tongue appearing to lick a fingertip every so often, while the other trailed gently down Light’s bare back.

When the button of L’s jeans finally came unfastened, Light reached up and grabbed the detective’s legs, forcing them apart. The move was misjudged however, as the force he applied was enough to send L sliding over layers of satin. He slipped, clutched at Light’s arms, and both of them tipped onto the floor with a crash, pillows raining down around them.

Ryuk had evidently not had as much fun in years. He was almost wheezing with mirth, the first time his laughter had affected him enough to make him seem unstable on his feet. Apparently slapstick humour was his sort of thing.

Light was only just sitting up and rubbing his head, giving the chortling shinigami dirty looks all the while, when he felt L’s hand push firmly on his shoulder and slam him back onto the floor again. He opened his mouth to curse, but the word died in his throat when he felt a hand begin to stroke him through his pants.

“I have never seen the purpose in so many cushions,” L murmured, crooking his fingers. “This seems more practical to me. A good idea of yours, Light.”

Ryuk’s laughter finally slowed a little. “Does he think you did that on purpose?”

Light was feeling reluctantly gratified. For one, L had completely ignored his aggression just now, and for another, damn he was good with his hands. His touches were purposeful and firm, yet somehow despite the pressure and the friction that resulted from the two layers of material that lay between his skin and L’s it was not uncomfortable. Each deliberate stroke sent a wash of pleasure over his body, and all at once he felt that there was far too much clothing still left on their bodies.