DN -- The Dawn of Remembered Time VI: The Other Thing
Title: The Dawn of Remembered Time
Chapter: 6. The Other Thing
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/L
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,058
Warnings: implied sex, off-kilter humor
Summary: Light Yagami's metaphors were even worse when he was hungover and had just gotten laid.
Author's Note: As in Richard III. Come on; don't tell me you're not a total Shakespeare geek or something...!
VI - THE OTHER THING
Distantly, L heard the door slam. He turned, lowering his hands from over his ears, to find that Watari had returned, Matsuda and the others at his heels, and that Light was looking at him, his complexion colorfully muddled again.
Without a word, Watari caught L’s eye and hefted the large pink box in his hands meaningfully. Grinning despite himself, L reveled in the first surge of optimism he’d felt all day.
Cake tended to have that effect on him.
Matsuda held a prize of his own. “We have donuts!” he announced.
“And cake,” L murmured, making a beeline for the table where Watari had set it down.
“And donuts,” Matsuda maintained.
“And cake,” L countered.
“I think it’s safe to say,” Soichiro remarked, taking Matsuda’s burden and setting it on the table as well, “that we have both donuts and cake.”
“Fair enough,” Matsuda sighed.
L might have contributed, but Watari had purchased paper plates and plastic forks, avoiding a waiting period, which meant that there was already enough cake in L’s mouth to preclude speech.
He was a wise one, Quillish Wammy.
As the others swarmed upon the donuts, L glanced at Light-kun, who was not partaking in the wonders of the pastries. Soichiro was either patting the boy’s shoulder or pushing him forward-or perhaps both at once.
Light steeled himself visibly and approached, putting on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Blessed as they were individually, that smile and those eyes were even lovelier when they met.
“Can I talk to you for a minute, Ryuzaki?” Light asked pleasantly.
Comically-or what would have been comically in other circumstances, such as those of a mediocre television sitcom or, at the least, circumstances involving someone else-the room went silent, and all eyes in it focused on the two of them. A survey of L’s peripheral vision confirmed that, yes, Matsuda did have a donut halfway to his mouth; and no, nothing that could distract him from a donut would be easily forgotten.
L set his cake plate down on the corner of the table. Everyone in the room knew to expect a wrath more fearsome even than Kira’s if they touched it, but L hoped that Light was nonetheless aware what it meant to be a higher priority than cake. There weren’t many things in the world that were, and the people he could count on one hand.
Anticipating a rather different result than that of the similar maneuver the previous night, he followed Light into the bedroom and pulled the door quietly to behind them.
Light opened his mouth, shut it, and put his hands in his pockets, looking blankly at the floor.
“L and Light?” Matsuda piped up, sounding as though he had succumbed to the temptation of the donut at last and was speaking through it.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Soichiro said immediately.
“At least they can get laid, Matsu,” Aizawa muttered.
L choked on the chuckle bubbling in his throat and started coughing. Cringing, Light pounded him on the back.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” Matsuda retorted, sounding offended. “And I can get laid anytime I want, thank you.”
Mogi and Aizawa cleared their throats tactfully.
“What I was going to say,” Matsuda added just as L, leaning on Light’s arm, regained his breath, “is that that’s kind of hot.”
The disbelieving silence lasted eons.
L stared at Light, who was staring back at him with commensurate incredulity.
“That’s a little like what I meant to say,” Light whispered.
L felt his eyes widen and was powerless to stop them. Light’s hands under his elbow were much too warm.
“You… think we’re kind of hot, Light-kun?” he hazarded.
Light paused. “Well… yeah. But I think that’s kind of… because of… the other thing.”
L blinked. “The other thing?” he prompted, hesitantly.
Light’s grip on his arm tightened marginally. “The, ah, ‘I love you’ thing,” he said.
L stared at him.
Light blushed.
L stared at him a little more, and then a little more for good measure. He imagined he could do with some good measurement, given that his heart-rate and his blood pressure had both just skyrocketed into the stratosphere.
“That… thing?” he heard his voice ask slowly.
Light nodded, somewhat avidly.
“Is… that… thing… genuine?” L managed.
Light nodded again, clutched at L’s forearm, realized that he was clutching at L’s forearm, and took it gently in both hands instead.
L searched honeyed eyes for a sign-for the laughter at the brilliant joke; for the grim determination behind the lie; for the sadistic amusement spurred by the betrayal-there had to be something. There wasn’t any other reason…
“I would I knew thy heart,” he whispered, because more parts of him than he would have liked to admit knew that Light would know.
Light smiled weakly. “I’m no Richard, Ryuzaki,” he said.
L set a faintly-trembling hand over the pair of Light’s that rested on his arm. “I want to believe you,” he replied quietly.
Light’s elegant fingers rose to touch his face, softly, tentatively, as if to ensure its reality. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he promised.
L supposed he should have seen it coming, but then, he wasn’t exactly complaining when, having gotten the last word as usual, Light pulled him in for a full, warm, desperate, and somehow innocent kiss.
He wasn’t complaining when Light’s fingers twined themselves in his hair, either, or when Light’s free hand settled at his waist, or when Light murmured contentedly as L ran his fingernail up the nape of the boy’s neck and into his hair, damp as it still was-
“They’ve been in there a while,” Matsuda remarked worriedly-and drastically audibly.
“Will you get your mind out of the gutter?” Aizawa groaned.
“Matsuda,” Soichiro put in, “if they were doing what you think they’re doing, we’d hear it.”
The noise that followed sounded suspiciously like Matsuda spitting out a mouthful of coffee.
The noise that followed that sounded suspiciously like Soichiro Yagami laughing quietly.
A knuckle brushing his cheek reminded L that he’d been doing something before the various distractions arose. He smiled shyly at Light, who grinned back.
“Did you want to finish your cake?” Light asked.
Good God. The boy really did love him.
[Chapter V] [Chapter VII]
Chapter: 6. The Other Thing
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/L
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,058
Warnings: implied sex, off-kilter humor
Summary: Light Yagami's metaphors were even worse when he was hungover and had just gotten laid.
Author's Note: As in Richard III. Come on; don't tell me you're not a total Shakespeare geek or something...!
VI - THE OTHER THING
Distantly, L heard the door slam. He turned, lowering his hands from over his ears, to find that Watari had returned, Matsuda and the others at his heels, and that Light was looking at him, his complexion colorfully muddled again.
Without a word, Watari caught L’s eye and hefted the large pink box in his hands meaningfully. Grinning despite himself, L reveled in the first surge of optimism he’d felt all day.
Cake tended to have that effect on him.
Matsuda held a prize of his own. “We have donuts!” he announced.
“And cake,” L murmured, making a beeline for the table where Watari had set it down.
“And donuts,” Matsuda maintained.
“And cake,” L countered.
“I think it’s safe to say,” Soichiro remarked, taking Matsuda’s burden and setting it on the table as well, “that we have both donuts and cake.”
“Fair enough,” Matsuda sighed.
L might have contributed, but Watari had purchased paper plates and plastic forks, avoiding a waiting period, which meant that there was already enough cake in L’s mouth to preclude speech.
He was a wise one, Quillish Wammy.
As the others swarmed upon the donuts, L glanced at Light-kun, who was not partaking in the wonders of the pastries. Soichiro was either patting the boy’s shoulder or pushing him forward-or perhaps both at once.
Light steeled himself visibly and approached, putting on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Blessed as they were individually, that smile and those eyes were even lovelier when they met.
“Can I talk to you for a minute, Ryuzaki?” Light asked pleasantly.
Comically-or what would have been comically in other circumstances, such as those of a mediocre television sitcom or, at the least, circumstances involving someone else-the room went silent, and all eyes in it focused on the two of them. A survey of L’s peripheral vision confirmed that, yes, Matsuda did have a donut halfway to his mouth; and no, nothing that could distract him from a donut would be easily forgotten.
L set his cake plate down on the corner of the table. Everyone in the room knew to expect a wrath more fearsome even than Kira’s if they touched it, but L hoped that Light was nonetheless aware what it meant to be a higher priority than cake. There weren’t many things in the world that were, and the people he could count on one hand.
Anticipating a rather different result than that of the similar maneuver the previous night, he followed Light into the bedroom and pulled the door quietly to behind them.
Light opened his mouth, shut it, and put his hands in his pockets, looking blankly at the floor.
“L and Light?” Matsuda piped up, sounding as though he had succumbed to the temptation of the donut at last and was speaking through it.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Soichiro said immediately.
“At least they can get laid, Matsu,” Aizawa muttered.
L choked on the chuckle bubbling in his throat and started coughing. Cringing, Light pounded him on the back.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” Matsuda retorted, sounding offended. “And I can get laid anytime I want, thank you.”
Mogi and Aizawa cleared their throats tactfully.
“What I was going to say,” Matsuda added just as L, leaning on Light’s arm, regained his breath, “is that that’s kind of hot.”
The disbelieving silence lasted eons.
L stared at Light, who was staring back at him with commensurate incredulity.
“That’s a little like what I meant to say,” Light whispered.
L felt his eyes widen and was powerless to stop them. Light’s hands under his elbow were much too warm.
“You… think we’re kind of hot, Light-kun?” he hazarded.
Light paused. “Well… yeah. But I think that’s kind of… because of… the other thing.”
L blinked. “The other thing?” he prompted, hesitantly.
Light’s grip on his arm tightened marginally. “The, ah, ‘I love you’ thing,” he said.
L stared at him.
Light blushed.
L stared at him a little more, and then a little more for good measure. He imagined he could do with some good measurement, given that his heart-rate and his blood pressure had both just skyrocketed into the stratosphere.
“That… thing?” he heard his voice ask slowly.
Light nodded, somewhat avidly.
“Is… that… thing… genuine?” L managed.
Light nodded again, clutched at L’s forearm, realized that he was clutching at L’s forearm, and took it gently in both hands instead.
L searched honeyed eyes for a sign-for the laughter at the brilliant joke; for the grim determination behind the lie; for the sadistic amusement spurred by the betrayal-there had to be something. There wasn’t any other reason…
“I would I knew thy heart,” he whispered, because more parts of him than he would have liked to admit knew that Light would know.
Light smiled weakly. “I’m no Richard, Ryuzaki,” he said.
L set a faintly-trembling hand over the pair of Light’s that rested on his arm. “I want to believe you,” he replied quietly.
Light’s elegant fingers rose to touch his face, softly, tentatively, as if to ensure its reality. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he promised.
L supposed he should have seen it coming, but then, he wasn’t exactly complaining when, having gotten the last word as usual, Light pulled him in for a full, warm, desperate, and somehow innocent kiss.
He wasn’t complaining when Light’s fingers twined themselves in his hair, either, or when Light’s free hand settled at his waist, or when Light murmured contentedly as L ran his fingernail up the nape of the boy’s neck and into his hair, damp as it still was-
“They’ve been in there a while,” Matsuda remarked worriedly-and drastically audibly.
“Will you get your mind out of the gutter?” Aizawa groaned.
“Matsuda,” Soichiro put in, “if they were doing what you think they’re doing, we’d hear it.”
The noise that followed sounded suspiciously like Matsuda spitting out a mouthful of coffee.
The noise that followed that sounded suspiciously like Soichiro Yagami laughing quietly.
A knuckle brushing his cheek reminded L that he’d been doing something before the various distractions arose. He smiled shyly at Light, who grinned back.
“Did you want to finish your cake?” Light asked.
Good God. The boy really did love him.
[Chapter V] [Chapter VII]