Oh wow a new fic?
Gah, finally. It feels so good to actually be completing things again. I really needed this.
Title: Catalyst
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/L
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and innuendo, maybe?
Summary: AU. L is a displaced college student with a penchant for overthinking things. Light is an ordinary (though popular) boy, likewise a college student, with occasional sociopathic tendencies. Together, they DON'T FIGHT CRIME! This is the story of their first kiss.
Author's Note: Light and L may seem a little OOC here, as L is young and inexperienced and Light is neither homicidal nor trying to prove otherwise. Also, this was actually written as a sort of prologue for something I'm still working on right now, so keep your eye out? If you liked this fic, I mean.
L had fallen in love. It was kind of ridiculous. He had somehow avoided any kind of romantic (or, for that matter, platonic) relationships for the better part of eighteen years, and then he’d moved to Japan. And met Light.
He hadn’t planned to do either of those things, originally, but an elderly uncle had tracked him down and offered to pay for him to live and study in Tokyo. L had accepted the offer-it would be easier than arranging a scholarship back home, and his Japanese was flawless. The entrance exams were surprisingly easy; he managed to get the highest score in the class. Apparently this was some kind of big deal, because they had him make a speech about it, which was awkward and, coincidentally, where he met Light.
Light Yagami had delivered the speech with him, since they’d both received perfect scores. L was immediately fascinated. Light spoke with a certain boldness, the kind of clarity and charisma that most politicians could only dream of. He’d spent the rest of the time observing Light-the tilt of his head, the flash of his eyes, the way he stood-and, when the speeches were over, he’d allowed his curiosity to overcome his reservations and actually approached Light.
Who had been bizarrely friendly, for some reason. L hadn’t quite expected that. In his experience, boys like Light weren’t particularly interested in boys like L. But, for the first time in his life, he’d been (mostly) happy to have been proven wrong. They’d talked for a bit, and though something about Light seemed inexplicably odd, he hadn’t been able to remember ever feeling so comfortable with an actual human being. He’d given Light his real name, on the basis that someone named Light would most likely not have a problem with weird, foreign names. Light, impressed, commented on his accent. He had asked L all sorts of questions about his childhood, which L skillfully had evaded until Light got the hint and left it well enough alone. They’d made plans to play tennis later, and L had left feeling unusually warm and somehow sparkly.
That had been two months ago. L had since identified the warm and sparkly feelings and, after a brief period of freaking right the fuck out, had set about analyzing and overanalyzing until the horse was not only dead but well on its way to becoming a horsehair blanket and several gallons of glue. After which he’d researched. Thoroughly researched. Nightly. Sometimes more.
And now, there were girls glaring at him and this idiot was telling him that the reason those girls kept glaring at him was because Light actually liked him back. Hilarious. L had absolutely no tolerance for cruel jokes. He didn’t know how this kid had figured out his secret, but he would not allow himself to be humiliated by someone whose name he didn’t even care to know. He frowned, kicked the kid in the stomach, and quietly stormed off.
Yes, they had been spending more time together, and yes, Light had been very…attentive lately, but L could not bring himself to believe that Light actually had feelings for him-the tiny L in the back of his head kept telling him it was illogical. Boys like Light might be friends with boys like L, maybe even best friends, but they certainly did not kiss them. L liked the way he looked, but knew that most people didn’t. Everyone liked the way Light looked. L couldn’t blame them. There was a long and descriptive list of things he couldn’t blame people for liking about Light, and it grew longer and more descriptive every time he thought about it.
In fact, he was so caught up in thinking about it that he barely noticed that Light was walking towards him. He certainly didn’t pay him any attention until they were practically side-by-side.
“I heard you kicked some guy in the stomach,” said Light, in a tone that would seem perfectly ordinary to anyone but L, who made it a habit to listen to his voice as much as possible. The tiny L began to pace and mutter.
“He was very rude,” L said distractedly, the corner of his thumb in his mouth. “I believe you would have responded in much the same way.”
L imagined that Light’s eyes lingered on his mouth for a second too long.
“What did he say?”
“He was very rude.”
Light stopped, reached over, and pulled L’s hand from his mouth. He held it delicately, like it wasn’t just one of L’s pale, skinny hands with the short nails and chewed-up cuticles, like it was some sort of treasure. L swallowed.
“L,” he said gently, tracing soft little circles over L’s thumb. “What did he say?”
“You must already know, Light,” he faltered, breath hitching. The tiny L had turned into several tiny Ls, all frantically assessing the situation in new and exciting ways. “Or else you would not be so…familiar.”
Light smiled a sweet kind of smile, and kissed him. L felt his brain fizzle out and die; he was fairly certain that it was leaking out of his ears. His last thought before his spinal cord short-circuited was that it was thankfully as pleasant as he’d hoped (it was actually more along the lines of “Oh. Light,” but the sentiment was essentially the same). The tiny Ls exploded, one by one, into little bursts of glittery logic. And then, too soon, Light slowly pulled away. L blinked, dazed; his head still seemed to be filled with a sparking puddle of grayish goo. Light smiled again (it was a little disconcerting to see Light so completely happy. It made him wonder if something, somewhere, hadn’t gone horribly horribly wrong) and ran a finger along L’s bottom lip, kissing him on the corner of his mouth.
“You,” he said breathlessly, “are brilliant. And adorable. There is absolutely no reason I wouldn’t be interested in you.”
L nuzzled closer.
“Adorable?” he asked.
“Adorable,” said Light firmly. “If you paid any attention to those girls they would want to take you home and feed you soup.”
“Soup?”
“Fine. Cake,” he wrapped his arms around L, squeezing gently. “They would bake cakes for you, and do your laundry. You would never have to wash a dish again.”
L made a soft sighing noise and rested his head on Light’s shoulder. The tiny Ls were back online now-one of them pointed out that L’s hand was still trapped, while the rest (except for the one that wondered why Light wanted him to exploit his fellow students) chose to focus on the crowd of college students who had gathered around to witness the spectacle that was his first kiss. Apparently he had, in between the brain-melting and the snuggly-Light, forgotten that they were still very much on campus.
“Light?”
“Yeah?”
“There are quite a lot of people here,” he shifted again, so that his hands were on Light’s shoulders and they were face-to-face. “Perhaps we should take this elsewhere?”
Someone wolf-whistled. Light gave them a Look and leaned down to whisper in L’s ear.
“Your place or mine?”
That sent shivers down L’s (still-smoking) spine, but he managed to maintain some composure and said, coolly, “I have no desire to speak with your family at the moment. Would you like to join me at my hotel?”
Light grinned and disentangled himself from L, who had not realized how much Light had been holding him up. He stumbled, and Light caught him with one steady arm around his waist, his hand settling on L’s hipbone.
“I would. Are you sure you can walk?” he asked, teasing.
L scowled, then smirked. “That should not be a matter of concern. Yet,” he added, watching Light’s eyes widen. Someone wolf-whistled again. This time, Light ignored them.
“Let’s go,” he said, half-dragging L along as he went.
The students waited until the boys were out of earshot before they started clapping.
Title: Catalyst
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/L
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and innuendo, maybe?
Summary: AU. L is a displaced college student with a penchant for overthinking things. Light is an ordinary (though popular) boy, likewise a college student, with occasional sociopathic tendencies. Together, they DON'T FIGHT CRIME! This is the story of their first kiss.
Author's Note: Light and L may seem a little OOC here, as L is young and inexperienced and Light is neither homicidal nor trying to prove otherwise. Also, this was actually written as a sort of prologue for something I'm still working on right now, so keep your eye out? If you liked this fic, I mean.
L had fallen in love. It was kind of ridiculous. He had somehow avoided any kind of romantic (or, for that matter, platonic) relationships for the better part of eighteen years, and then he’d moved to Japan. And met Light.
He hadn’t planned to do either of those things, originally, but an elderly uncle had tracked him down and offered to pay for him to live and study in Tokyo. L had accepted the offer-it would be easier than arranging a scholarship back home, and his Japanese was flawless. The entrance exams were surprisingly easy; he managed to get the highest score in the class. Apparently this was some kind of big deal, because they had him make a speech about it, which was awkward and, coincidentally, where he met Light.
Light Yagami had delivered the speech with him, since they’d both received perfect scores. L was immediately fascinated. Light spoke with a certain boldness, the kind of clarity and charisma that most politicians could only dream of. He’d spent the rest of the time observing Light-the tilt of his head, the flash of his eyes, the way he stood-and, when the speeches were over, he’d allowed his curiosity to overcome his reservations and actually approached Light.
Who had been bizarrely friendly, for some reason. L hadn’t quite expected that. In his experience, boys like Light weren’t particularly interested in boys like L. But, for the first time in his life, he’d been (mostly) happy to have been proven wrong. They’d talked for a bit, and though something about Light seemed inexplicably odd, he hadn’t been able to remember ever feeling so comfortable with an actual human being. He’d given Light his real name, on the basis that someone named Light would most likely not have a problem with weird, foreign names. Light, impressed, commented on his accent. He had asked L all sorts of questions about his childhood, which L skillfully had evaded until Light got the hint and left it well enough alone. They’d made plans to play tennis later, and L had left feeling unusually warm and somehow sparkly.
That had been two months ago. L had since identified the warm and sparkly feelings and, after a brief period of freaking right the fuck out, had set about analyzing and overanalyzing until the horse was not only dead but well on its way to becoming a horsehair blanket and several gallons of glue. After which he’d researched. Thoroughly researched. Nightly. Sometimes more.
And now, there were girls glaring at him and this idiot was telling him that the reason those girls kept glaring at him was because Light actually liked him back. Hilarious. L had absolutely no tolerance for cruel jokes. He didn’t know how this kid had figured out his secret, but he would not allow himself to be humiliated by someone whose name he didn’t even care to know. He frowned, kicked the kid in the stomach, and quietly stormed off.
Yes, they had been spending more time together, and yes, Light had been very…attentive lately, but L could not bring himself to believe that Light actually had feelings for him-the tiny L in the back of his head kept telling him it was illogical. Boys like Light might be friends with boys like L, maybe even best friends, but they certainly did not kiss them. L liked the way he looked, but knew that most people didn’t. Everyone liked the way Light looked. L couldn’t blame them. There was a long and descriptive list of things he couldn’t blame people for liking about Light, and it grew longer and more descriptive every time he thought about it.
In fact, he was so caught up in thinking about it that he barely noticed that Light was walking towards him. He certainly didn’t pay him any attention until they were practically side-by-side.
“I heard you kicked some guy in the stomach,” said Light, in a tone that would seem perfectly ordinary to anyone but L, who made it a habit to listen to his voice as much as possible. The tiny L began to pace and mutter.
“He was very rude,” L said distractedly, the corner of his thumb in his mouth. “I believe you would have responded in much the same way.”
L imagined that Light’s eyes lingered on his mouth for a second too long.
“What did he say?”
“He was very rude.”
Light stopped, reached over, and pulled L’s hand from his mouth. He held it delicately, like it wasn’t just one of L’s pale, skinny hands with the short nails and chewed-up cuticles, like it was some sort of treasure. L swallowed.
“L,” he said gently, tracing soft little circles over L’s thumb. “What did he say?”
“You must already know, Light,” he faltered, breath hitching. The tiny L had turned into several tiny Ls, all frantically assessing the situation in new and exciting ways. “Or else you would not be so…familiar.”
Light smiled a sweet kind of smile, and kissed him. L felt his brain fizzle out and die; he was fairly certain that it was leaking out of his ears. His last thought before his spinal cord short-circuited was that it was thankfully as pleasant as he’d hoped (it was actually more along the lines of “Oh. Light,” but the sentiment was essentially the same). The tiny Ls exploded, one by one, into little bursts of glittery logic. And then, too soon, Light slowly pulled away. L blinked, dazed; his head still seemed to be filled with a sparking puddle of grayish goo. Light smiled again (it was a little disconcerting to see Light so completely happy. It made him wonder if something, somewhere, hadn’t gone horribly horribly wrong) and ran a finger along L’s bottom lip, kissing him on the corner of his mouth.
“You,” he said breathlessly, “are brilliant. And adorable. There is absolutely no reason I wouldn’t be interested in you.”
L nuzzled closer.
“Adorable?” he asked.
“Adorable,” said Light firmly. “If you paid any attention to those girls they would want to take you home and feed you soup.”
“Soup?”
“Fine. Cake,” he wrapped his arms around L, squeezing gently. “They would bake cakes for you, and do your laundry. You would never have to wash a dish again.”
L made a soft sighing noise and rested his head on Light’s shoulder. The tiny Ls were back online now-one of them pointed out that L’s hand was still trapped, while the rest (except for the one that wondered why Light wanted him to exploit his fellow students) chose to focus on the crowd of college students who had gathered around to witness the spectacle that was his first kiss. Apparently he had, in between the brain-melting and the snuggly-Light, forgotten that they were still very much on campus.
“Light?”
“Yeah?”
“There are quite a lot of people here,” he shifted again, so that his hands were on Light’s shoulders and they were face-to-face. “Perhaps we should take this elsewhere?”
Someone wolf-whistled. Light gave them a Look and leaned down to whisper in L’s ear.
“Your place or mine?”
That sent shivers down L’s (still-smoking) spine, but he managed to maintain some composure and said, coolly, “I have no desire to speak with your family at the moment. Would you like to join me at my hotel?”
Light grinned and disentangled himself from L, who had not realized how much Light had been holding him up. He stumbled, and Light caught him with one steady arm around his waist, his hand settling on L’s hipbone.
“I would. Are you sure you can walk?” he asked, teasing.
L scowled, then smirked. “That should not be a matter of concern. Yet,” he added, watching Light’s eyes widen. Someone wolf-whistled again. This time, Light ignored them.
“Let’s go,” he said, half-dragging L along as he went.
The students waited until the boys were out of earshot before they started clapping.