[L's eyes bug out, and he stares, as though taken aback by Light's question.
Even as he does, he only welcomes the fact that Light is drawing nearer, leaning towards his perch like a heat source.]
Because it was then, Light. We met for the first time only once.
[He shrugs, his bony shoulder grazing the overgrown ends of his dark hair.]
I thought it went without saying that it's still true. I don't know what could happen that could make it untrue...
[There is, of course, the inconvenient fact that they were the figureheads of opposing sides. He doesn't want to mention it, now, torn as he wonders whether he feels like predator or prey under Light's tawny eyes.]
[ Will prey. If Light is to make any kind of guess as to where L fits into the new sensation stirring in his stomach, it would be that of prey wanting to be hunted. Admittedly, it's dyed by Light's own refusal to consider himself as 'prey'.
Watchful eyes follow the shoulder, noting the way L's hair shifts with the movement. When had it been such an erotic motion? Light's spent little of his life considering things sensual, including sex itself. Now, one motion from L set him alit in ways he'd never felt when he'd given Misa her nights. ]
At this point, if something were to make me doubt it, I'd know something was off with you.
[ For better or for worse, L is solidified in that role.
Light has an answer for that. ]
I missed you.
[ It's words that he wouldn't usually offer with such sincerity, but it was true even before something filled his heart with a warmth normally reserved for his family. ]
I spent a lot of time thinking of how things would have been different if you were around.
[ Later, when the heat isn't pulsing through his body and landing in his lions, Light won't be happy with the openness he's currently displaying, but for now, it feels like this much truth has to be released. ]
[It helps, perhaps, that L's dark eyes can be soft and doe-like under the right conditions. He's not narrowing them to cut, now, or widening them to the point of mocking his opposition in goggle-eyed faux wonder. The moderation probably makes it seem like authenticity, which might make it seem like vulnerability.
L wears it incredibly well, with his narrow shoulders and delicate features.
Something else he wears well is his unblinking poker face. It breaks, for a moment. Dark lashes swipe sharp cheekbones, because in spite of himself, L is surprised.
Light missing him is one thing. Light admitting it is wholly another. It's a request, he thinks, to be seen, and acknowledged, and approached, and-
His lips are very dry, so he licks them, and blinks again, this time twice, for the man he hates, and also missed, and calls now his friend.
There is so much sorrow and rage wrapped up in that sentiment that he thinks it must be passion. The chocolates certainly don't help matters. The result is a face that looks open, gentle, and slightly shattered.]
War and peace are different, you know... you don't have to think about them the same way.
[L always thinks about them the same way, wondering when it might turn on a dime and become the opposite. He is never secure, and never whole, and therefore always hungry.
Did he always want this?]
Tell me what you thought.
[He'll listen like the entire world is contained in Light Yagami's soft, gentle lips.]
[ Something is wrong. The feeling nags him, but Light is careful to reveal nothing of Kira. Even if he can recognize what these feelings are, he won't fall prey to them the way so many others do. As long as he's in charge of the emotions and not the reverse, what's the harm in indulgence? ]
I thought about how lonely it was.
[ A truth that plagued him like a wound which never healed. Light was never lonely in the sense of lacking companionship but in the fact, it was never meaningful. ]
Even though we spent a lot of our time disagreeing with each other, I missed the engagement.
[ It was a hidden shame: Kira regrets the win. L's genius was such that even as the victor, Light never thought less of him. His opponent didn't lack, Light was simply one move ahead when it mattered most.
Brown eyes watch the same opponent with a heat that's almost physical. ]
Sometimes, I'd imagine what you'd be thinking. Sometimes, I couldn't.
[ And those moments were the most thrilling. ]
When I saw you again, I wasn't sure if I was dreaming.
[If Light can bridle and check his emotions like an obedient horse, it's more than L can say for his own situation. Perhaps his "horse" is a wild and skittish thing, with burrs in its mane and a mean kick as swift as its gallop. He thinks that such a thing is better avoided than engaged.
Maybe it's why there's an undercurrent of unease to counter Light's steady and precise indulgence. If L gives an inch to what he wants to feel, he knows that it'll take off running with reckless abandon, dragging him helplessly behind. Like telling someone starving to just eat one, or someone heartbroken to cry only a single tear, it's possible only in theory, without all the hurdles of human nature to overcome.
He's on the brink of that theory. He can tell acutely, now that Light has turned the conversation towards something that most people are superficially impressed by, but seldom inquire about beyond marveling, shrugging, and assuming some fluke of nature beyond their comprehension. His mind, like the Sun, was always appreciated greatly but quickly taken for granted by those who benefited from his gifts.
Of course it would take someone like Kira, actively threatened by those gifts, to wonder more actively and intimately. He's paused in the act of making coffee, if only because his fingertips feel numb and uncoordinated, momentarily like someone else's. Is this how Light perceives him? Is this caring about that, when L is infamous for giving not a single damn about how others perceive him?
He fights the disassociation, and finds that the heat is, in fact, physical. He makes a conscious effort to ease the tension around his eyes and mouth, meeting Light's eyes as though it's some of their normal back-and-forth, and he is the one staring unabashedly and cleverly, waiting for some slip.]
Loneliness would have been a given, anyway. You were L, for a number of years.
[Not a who; a what, to be picked up, worn, torn away.]
Do you still wonder? Or has renewed familiarity smoothed out the pages of an open book?
[His tone is light, but if Light could guess the vague sort of scandalous, sordid thoughts in his head, it would mean that the other man has become a psychic, or that L has grown rusty indeed at hiding his thoughts and feelings. That, in itself, is shameful and terrifying.]
[ There's no give nor surprise in the stare. It's almost as if Light has just been waiting for L to meet his gaze. It's not the doe look that he finds himself wanting to see but the sharp intelligence that hides behind it. The line of women with large eyes and frail frames has never been enough to ignite the heat that's flickering in his stomach. The closest he's come before is when in the midst of their game.
Now, it's there. Foreign and almost uncomfortable in its intensity, the heat won't easily be ignored. ]
Sometimes, we're so well in sync it's like we're sharing a mind.
[ With an easy push, Light is off the desk. What is he doing? Why did he go from the early morning annoyance to desire? Before he's capable of questioning it too intensely, the feelings wash over him again.
It can matter later. ]
Sometimes, it's like I can't even begin to guess. I don't know which I like more.
[ The smile is heated; Light isn't being crude, but the stare doesn't break at all. ]
[L regards Light with wariness, suspicion, and desire in equal measure. Because, while he wants what's implied, more than he thinks he really thinks he should, it seems so absurd as to not be properly real in any just world.]
I've thought so, too.
[Regarding sharing a mind. He's not even lying; the proof is etched in every facet of the Kira investigation, even if they were both younger, then. His eyes follow Light as he launches gently away from the desk, pacing the room they both own.]
We tend to like the same things... wouldn't you agree?
[He turns away from the coffee, eyes on Light, not forsaking him, just watching every movement like it's scripture. When has the other man's eyes ever been on him this way, as though he's not just a mind worth sparring with, but a human being worth clashing with in other ways?]
I want--
[He catches himself before his mouth runs away from him (when does that happen?) He catches himself, before he can say that he wants Light rough against him, crushing him with kisses and bruising, welcome lust.]
I want to know what you like, of course, my friend...
[And it hangs there, a question in his stiff posture and tense eyes. A bit longer and he won't be able to quell the urge to make the first desirous move. This slight, anxious hesitation is Light's chance to do the same, a moment sooner.]
[ Alarm bell should be ringing at such a volume that no other thought should be possible but instead, this feels right. Light has used seduction as a tool in the past, but he's never felt such physical desire. After seeing the way lust could bend the minds of weaker people, he'd considered it a blessing. Now that he's a victim of the heat that pools in his stomach, Light refuses to be led by the longing.
He doesn't plan to ignore it, either. After all, it's L. No matter what side of the line they find themselves on, the draw never weakens. The older man had died at his hands, eyes wide with realization only a second too late, and still, Light never found a feeling quite as strong. There is no match; it's always had to be the two of them. In life or death.
Steady footsteps erase any distance that might keep them apart. The same steady breaths quicken and betray Light's own rising lust. L's mind is no longer enough. Perhaps he should stop and question L's own desires, but somehow, there's no doubt in Light's mind that it will be returned. Hadn't they just said it? Their thoughts all too often overlap. ]
Right now? I want to taste the chocolate on his lips.
[ As if it's about the chocolates. Light trusts that his partner knows the real message: I want to kiss you so hard that there's nothing to hide from me. Now that the words are spoken, only a coward would back down. His hand rests on L's pale jaw just a fraction of a second before Light plays offensive and starts the kiss. Even with a speed that suggests urgency, his head bends to find the most natural fit for their faces. It's Light Yagami; he refuses to be anything less than skilled. ]
[It's a terrible idea by every possible measure. L knows it; Light must, too. They both probably even have an inkling that the chocolates are to blame, and could override it with willpower if they really wanted to.
Do they really want to, after all? Did L bring them back just to play with fire? The inferno encroaches, and while L is so excellent at playing chicken with perceived threats, when one is on his doorstep (let alone in his lap), he's less well-equipped. Nevertheless, he can't look at Light with the eyes of a questioning child. Not now, or like this. Because there can be no doubt; they're of a like mind, and always have been.
He blinks once, a measured response to the brazen audacity. Then he leans forward to meet Light as casually as if he's taking a bite of an apple in his own hand. Teeth are involved, because L is quietly angry about Light's superior initiative, but they're softer than they might have been and far more forgiving, because Light has figured out in his brashness that they are well-suited to each other physically. Their lips fit, which leads L to believe this might be true elsewhere.
His hands brace against Light's chest as if to push him away. The last, failing acknowledgment that this is a horrible idea dies as his fingers fist in Light's shirt, pulling him closer instead. All that felt like a flock of batting and licking kittens when he was with Shoyo has metamorphosed into a raging bull, and he wants to be beneath it and above it, his fingers opening and spreading to pull at Light's buttons.]
[ Their chemistry isn't new. Though Light may have been a stranger to feeling physical attraction, he's felt a connection to L that hasn't been duplicated in the years since the detective's murder. Bored and malaise replaced the once burning pleasure that occupied his mind and body when the two were at their most dangerous. No, it may not have spilled into a physical type of want, but now that it has, Light can't say it feels too different. The only difference is that it's his body reacting instead of his mind.
A fire once ignited is much more difficult to control. Their lips meet and their tastes mingle and all else fades into the distance. Case files and work is secondary to the way L feels against him. One chocolate gave him affection and the other lust; the latter is rarely satisfied by a kiss no matter how much passion it might hold. As his partner works to rid Light of buttons, Light angles him toward the desk. Once he can feel the other body hit the wooden frame, it's time for his own hands to join the assault.
Clothing is in the way. Light is sure they both agree. It would be easy to be fast and dirty and maybe they should be with the door unlocked, but Light plans on tasting and feeling everything that is both his partner and his nemesis.
The kiss breaks but only for a moment. His lips are soon on L's throat, first as a kiss and then a knick with his teeth as if marking him for later. He grins in the following kiss, in the following nipple, and then as his tongue 'soothes' the area. L can wear turtlenecks to keep today from the public, but he'll see them whenever he sees his own reflection. ]
[Though some might dismiss L and Shoyo's relationship as being chaste, and even technically virginal, the two had explored enough to prime them in a fair number of techniques. L's hands know what they're doing, and where they are going; his kissing is practiced and melds easily to Light's mouth, not shying away from pressing his tongue against the other's teeth, and further if allowed. It's the center of his focus and arousal, the soft give of tongue and palate contrasted with teeth as he pulls Light's shirt away from him bit-by bit. The last button prompts a shucking motion to peel the sleeves off and discard the garment on the floor, sure to be wrinkled.
If he notices that Light is moving him towards a better angle for their purposes, he doesn't acknowledge it. He lies back, if anything, dropping Light's shirt to the floor and pulling him more deeply into a kiss.
Then it breaks, and L shudders, because suddenly, Light has too much control. His mouth is on a tender spot, more so because a knife in the same place could kill him, and he's both horrified and elated as a result. L's fingers knot in Light's hair, and his breath catches as he says, in his attempt to regain control]
Let me take care of you.
[Dark eyes flick up to meet Light's, a moment of human respect and acknowledgment, before he pushes him away only to slip between them. L is guarded, even now, careful not to lose control. It's what he loves about the technique he perfected with Shoyo, the foyer of his mouth lavish and welcoming, but never beyond a certain threshold.
He slips, bony and lithe, between the edge of the counter and Light, dropping first to one knee and then another. He doesn't consider this degrading; it saves him from true vulnerability, he thinks, and is therefore a sort of triumph. If he can have Light's legs shaking and at the mercy of his own urges, then he considers it a victory, and no kind of submission.
His slender fingers work at Light's button and zipper, pulling him loose, taking him in. He doubts the other will have any complaints, because all that L cares about in the world, he fucks with his mouth.]
[ Once, Light is sure he would have known what to expect. L was a recluse in a tower that only allowed someone into his space if it was required while also being willing to invade your own comfort zone. That L was a virgin, at least by Light's assumptions. However, a year after arriving here and being forced into the real world without someone looking after his every need but also without the weight of 'L' on his shoulders, it's impossible to guess.
The way he slides to his knees and immediately removes any obstacles between himself and Light's pants suggests he's very practiced in this. It's an odd realization and one that will have to wait until later.
At least L is right: Light has no complaints about his next move and when he pushes aside pants and the underwear beneath he'll find him already rising to the occasion. It's not a position he would have offered in return; they're often on the same wavelength but it's not so odd for them to have a disagreement. Looking down at L between his legs, working to 'take care of him', it's impossible to see it as anything less than submission and vulnerability though perhaps experience should have taught him differently. Misa usually takes charge during sex and in spite of being in the 'receiving' position, most people would agree it's her who's in control if only because it's easier for Light.
More important than seeing submission in the act, he also sees a very, very attractive picture, and his body responds. Even while not fully hard, Light isn't a small man.
Reaching down, he runs a hand through L's hair in encouragement. The hand continues down, stroking his face before playfully running across his lips, Light's own face wearing a grin. Soon, L's mouth will be too busy to touch. ]
[L is glad to find that he's able to pull Light close and willing, though he's frankly surprised at how willing. It only goes further to light his own secret fires as he presses more insistently, modulating his teeth and tongue to pull Light closer, before drawing back, his mouth retreating while his hands squeeze more closely at his hips and buttocks.
They unite to press firmer and clearer. He only takes a break, slightly breathless, to tell Light what he thought the other man would already know.)]
Didn't you? I'm something of a provider...
[His bid for a masculine role as he dips again to take Light in, fully, carefully and committedly. The way he holds and grasps at Light's hips says that, indeed, for however quiet and submissive his posture, he reaches for a way to hold court and a way to ensure victory. If Light comes, this way, L remains untouched, unsullied, unknown. If Light comes this way, L gets something, just as much or more than the climax that would undo Light.]
[ A sharp gasp fills the room to add to the erotic noises that can only be attributed to the most intimate of acts. His body is human so it's not as if he's never gotten pleasure from the act itself, but with the chocolates acting as an enhancer, Light can say it's easily the best he's felt while being in someone's mouth.
Closed eyes can't see L, but the image is still seared into Light's mind. The detective is on his knees, mouth open and quickly taking him inside. It's impressive, more than he'd have assumed him capable of managing. Light isn't a small man.
Experienced. He isn't sure how he feels about that.
The flame of a candle has erupted into something that thrums throughout his blood. Light needs this, but there's only so much he can show without making it obvious that it's something he'd be disappointed to lose. Instead of allowing L to 'provide', he plans to be a more active participant. As his hand dips to cup the back of L's head, his hips give a testing roll; it isn't attractive to either of them if he gags the detective. ]
You're doing well.
[ Three words that sound innocent enough, but it's the tone that tries to wrestle back a bit of control. It's the voice of a man having something done for him, not that of a man having something done to him.
If L can manage to take him further with the roll of Light's hips, they can find a matching pace. The muscles in his stomach almost cramp with the need for L to continue, to move faster, to do more. He won't be satisfied easily. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Even as he does, he only welcomes the fact that Light is drawing nearer, leaning towards his perch like a heat source.]
Because it was then, Light. We met for the first time only once.
[He shrugs, his bony shoulder grazing the overgrown ends of his dark hair.]
I thought it went without saying that it's still true. I don't know what could happen that could make it untrue...
[There is, of course, the inconvenient fact that they were the figureheads of opposing sides. He doesn't want to mention it, now, torn as he wonders whether he feels like predator or prey under Light's tawny eyes.]
no subject
Watchful eyes follow the shoulder, noting the way L's hair shifts with the movement. When had it been such an erotic motion? Light's spent little of his life considering things sensual, including sex itself. Now, one motion from L set him alit in ways he'd never felt when he'd given Misa her nights. ]
At this point, if something were to make me doubt it, I'd know something was off with you.
[ For better or for worse, L is solidified in that role.
Light has an answer for that. ]
I missed you.
[ It's words that he wouldn't usually offer with such sincerity, but it was true even before something filled his heart with a warmth normally reserved for his family. ]
I spent a lot of time thinking of how things would have been different if you were around.
[ Later, when the heat isn't pulsing through his body and landing in his lions, Light won't be happy with the openness he's currently displaying, but for now, it feels like this much truth has to be released. ]
no subject
L wears it incredibly well, with his narrow shoulders and delicate features.
Something else he wears well is his unblinking poker face. It breaks, for a moment. Dark lashes swipe sharp cheekbones, because in spite of himself, L is surprised.
Light missing him is one thing. Light admitting it is wholly another. It's a request, he thinks, to be seen, and acknowledged, and approached, and-
His lips are very dry, so he licks them, and blinks again, this time twice, for the man he hates, and also missed, and calls now his friend.
There is so much sorrow and rage wrapped up in that sentiment that he thinks it must be passion. The chocolates certainly don't help matters. The result is a face that looks open, gentle, and slightly shattered.]
War and peace are different, you know... you don't have to think about them the same way.
[L always thinks about them the same way, wondering when it might turn on a dime and become the opposite. He is never secure, and never whole, and therefore always hungry.
Did he always want this?]
Tell me what you thought.
[He'll listen like the entire world is contained in Light Yagami's soft, gentle lips.]
no subject
I thought about how lonely it was.
[ A truth that plagued him like a wound which never healed. Light was never lonely in the sense of lacking companionship but in the fact, it was never meaningful. ]
Even though we spent a lot of our time disagreeing with each other, I missed the engagement.
[ It was a hidden shame: Kira regrets the win. L's genius was such that even as the victor, Light never thought less of him. His opponent didn't lack, Light was simply one move ahead when it mattered most.
Brown eyes watch the same opponent with a heat that's almost physical. ]
Sometimes, I'd imagine what you'd be thinking. Sometimes, I couldn't.
[ And those moments were the most thrilling. ]
When I saw you again, I wasn't sure if I was dreaming.
no subject
Maybe it's why there's an undercurrent of unease to counter Light's steady and precise indulgence. If L gives an inch to what he wants to feel, he knows that it'll take off running with reckless abandon, dragging him helplessly behind. Like telling someone starving to just eat one, or someone heartbroken to cry only a single tear, it's possible only in theory, without all the hurdles of human nature to overcome.
He's on the brink of that theory. He can tell acutely, now that Light has turned the conversation towards something that most people are superficially impressed by, but seldom inquire about beyond marveling, shrugging, and assuming some fluke of nature beyond their comprehension. His mind, like the Sun, was always appreciated greatly but quickly taken for granted by those who benefited from his gifts.
Of course it would take someone like Kira, actively threatened by those gifts, to wonder more actively and intimately. He's paused in the act of making coffee, if only because his fingertips feel numb and uncoordinated, momentarily like someone else's. Is this how Light perceives him? Is this caring about that, when L is infamous for giving not a single damn about how others perceive him?
He fights the disassociation, and finds that the heat is, in fact, physical. He makes a conscious effort to ease the tension around his eyes and mouth, meeting Light's eyes as though it's some of their normal back-and-forth, and he is the one staring unabashedly and cleverly, waiting for some slip.]
Loneliness would have been a given, anyway. You were L, for a number of years.
[Not a who; a what, to be picked up, worn, torn away.]
Do you still wonder? Or has renewed familiarity smoothed out the pages of an open book?
[His tone is light, but if Light could guess the vague sort of scandalous, sordid thoughts in his head, it would mean that the other man has become a psychic, or that L has grown rusty indeed at hiding his thoughts and feelings. That, in itself, is shameful and terrifying.]
no subject
Now, it's there. Foreign and almost uncomfortable in its intensity, the heat won't easily be ignored. ]
Sometimes, we're so well in sync it's like we're sharing a mind.
[ With an easy push, Light is off the desk. What is he doing? Why did he go from the early morning annoyance to desire? Before he's capable of questioning it too intensely, the feelings wash over him again.
It can matter later. ]
Sometimes, it's like I can't even begin to guess. I don't know which I like more.
[ The smile is heated; Light isn't being crude, but the stare doesn't break at all. ]
But I know that I like both.
no subject
I've thought so, too.
[Regarding sharing a mind. He's not even lying; the proof is etched in every facet of the Kira investigation, even if they were both younger, then. His eyes follow Light as he launches gently away from the desk, pacing the room they both own.]
We tend to like the same things... wouldn't you agree?
[He turns away from the coffee, eyes on Light, not forsaking him, just watching every movement like it's scripture. When has the other man's eyes ever been on him this way, as though he's not just a mind worth sparring with, but a human being worth clashing with in other ways?]
I want--
[He catches himself before his mouth runs away from him (when does that happen?) He catches himself, before he can say that he wants Light rough against him, crushing him with kisses and bruising, welcome lust.]
I want to know what you like, of course, my friend...
[And it hangs there, a question in his stiff posture and tense eyes. A bit longer and he won't be able to quell the urge to make the first desirous move. This slight, anxious hesitation is Light's chance to do the same, a moment sooner.]
no subject
He doesn't plan to ignore it, either. After all, it's L. No matter what side of the line they find themselves on, the draw never weakens. The older man had died at his hands, eyes wide with realization only a second too late, and still, Light never found a feeling quite as strong. There is no match; it's always had to be the two of them. In life or death.
Steady footsteps erase any distance that might keep them apart. The same steady breaths quicken and betray Light's own rising lust. L's mind is no longer enough. Perhaps he should stop and question L's own desires, but somehow, there's no doubt in Light's mind that it will be returned. Hadn't they just said it? Their thoughts all too often overlap. ]
Right now? I want to taste the chocolate on his lips.
[ As if it's about the chocolates. Light trusts that his partner knows the real message: I want to kiss you so hard that there's nothing to hide from me. Now that the words are spoken, only a coward would back down. His hand rests on L's pale jaw just a fraction of a second before Light plays offensive and starts the kiss. Even with a speed that suggests urgency, his head bends to find the most natural fit for their faces. It's Light Yagami; he refuses to be anything less than skilled. ]
no subject
Do they really want to, after all? Did L bring them back just to play with fire? The inferno encroaches, and while L is so excellent at playing chicken with perceived threats, when one is on his doorstep (let alone in his lap), he's less well-equipped. Nevertheless, he can't look at Light with the eyes of a questioning child. Not now, or like this. Because there can be no doubt; they're of a like mind, and always have been.
He blinks once, a measured response to the brazen audacity. Then he leans forward to meet Light as casually as if he's taking a bite of an apple in his own hand. Teeth are involved, because L is quietly angry about Light's superior initiative, but they're softer than they might have been and far more forgiving, because Light has figured out in his brashness that they are well-suited to each other physically. Their lips fit, which leads L to believe this might be true elsewhere.
His hands brace against Light's chest as if to push him away. The last, failing acknowledgment that this is a horrible idea dies as his fingers fist in Light's shirt, pulling him closer instead. All that felt like a flock of batting and licking kittens when he was with Shoyo has metamorphosed into a raging bull, and he wants to be beneath it and above it, his fingers opening and spreading to pull at Light's buttons.]
no subject
A fire once ignited is much more difficult to control. Their lips meet and their tastes mingle and all else fades into the distance. Case files and work is secondary to the way L feels against him. One chocolate gave him affection and the other lust; the latter is rarely satisfied by a kiss no matter how much passion it might hold. As his partner works to rid Light of buttons, Light angles him toward the desk. Once he can feel the other body hit the wooden frame, it's time for his own hands to join the assault.
Clothing is in the way. Light is sure they both agree. It would be easy to be fast and dirty and maybe they should be with the door unlocked, but Light plans on tasting and feeling everything that is both his partner and his nemesis.
The kiss breaks but only for a moment. His lips are soon on L's throat, first as a kiss and then a knick with his teeth as if marking him for later. He grins in the following kiss, in the following nipple, and then as his tongue 'soothes' the area. L can wear turtlenecks to keep today from the public, but he'll see them whenever he sees his own reflection. ]
no subject
If he notices that Light is moving him towards a better angle for their purposes, he doesn't acknowledge it. He lies back, if anything, dropping Light's shirt to the floor and pulling him more deeply into a kiss.
Then it breaks, and L shudders, because suddenly, Light has too much control. His mouth is on a tender spot, more so because a knife in the same place could kill him, and he's both horrified and elated as a result. L's fingers knot in Light's hair, and his breath catches as he says, in his attempt to regain control]
Let me take care of you.
[Dark eyes flick up to meet Light's, a moment of human respect and acknowledgment, before he pushes him away only to slip between them. L is guarded, even now, careful not to lose control. It's what he loves about the technique he perfected with Shoyo, the foyer of his mouth lavish and welcoming, but never beyond a certain threshold.
He slips, bony and lithe, between the edge of the counter and Light, dropping first to one knee and then another. He doesn't consider this degrading; it saves him from true vulnerability, he thinks, and is therefore a sort of triumph. If he can have Light's legs shaking and at the mercy of his own urges, then he considers it a victory, and no kind of submission.
His slender fingers work at Light's button and zipper, pulling him loose, taking him in. He doubts the other will have any complaints, because all that L cares about in the world, he fucks with his mouth.]
no subject
The way he slides to his knees and immediately removes any obstacles between himself and Light's pants suggests he's very practiced in this. It's an odd realization and one that will have to wait until later.
At least L is right: Light has no complaints about his next move and when he pushes aside pants and the underwear beneath he'll find him already rising to the occasion. It's not a position he would have offered in return; they're often on the same wavelength but it's not so odd for them to have a disagreement. Looking down at L between his legs, working to 'take care of him', it's impossible to see it as anything less than submission and vulnerability though perhaps experience should have taught him differently. Misa usually takes charge during sex and in spite of being in the 'receiving' position, most people would agree it's her who's in control if only because it's easier for Light.
More important than seeing submission in the act, he also sees a very, very attractive picture, and his body responds. Even while not fully hard, Light isn't a small man.
Reaching down, he runs a hand through L's hair in encouragement. The hand continues down, stroking his face before playfully running across his lips, Light's own face wearing a grin. Soon, L's mouth will be too busy to touch. ]
I never thought I'd hear you saying that line.
no subject
They unite to press firmer and clearer. He only takes a break, slightly breathless, to tell Light what he thought the other man would already know.)]
Didn't you? I'm something of a provider...
[His bid for a masculine role as he dips again to take Light in, fully, carefully and committedly. The way he holds and grasps at Light's hips says that, indeed, for however quiet and submissive his posture, he reaches for a way to hold court and a way to ensure victory. If Light comes, this way, L remains untouched, unsullied, unknown. If Light comes this way, L gets something, just as much or more than the climax that would undo Light.]
no subject
[ A sharp gasp fills the room to add to the erotic noises that can only be attributed to the most intimate of acts. His body is human so it's not as if he's never gotten pleasure from the act itself, but with the chocolates acting as an enhancer, Light can say it's easily the best he's felt while being in someone's mouth.
Closed eyes can't see L, but the image is still seared into Light's mind. The detective is on his knees, mouth open and quickly taking him inside. It's impressive, more than he'd have assumed him capable of managing. Light isn't a small man.
Experienced. He isn't sure how he feels about that.
The flame of a candle has erupted into something that thrums throughout his blood. Light needs this, but there's only so much he can show without making it obvious that it's something he'd be disappointed to lose. Instead of allowing L to 'provide', he plans to be a more active participant. As his hand dips to cup the back of L's head, his hips give a testing roll; it isn't attractive to either of them if he gags the detective. ]
You're doing well.
[ Three words that sound innocent enough, but it's the tone that tries to wrestle back a bit of control. It's the voice of a man having something done for him, not that of a man having something done to him.
If L can manage to take him further with the roll of Light's hips, they can find a matching pace. The muscles in his stomach almost cramp with the need for L to continue, to move faster, to do more. He won't be satisfied easily. ]