Redeemer

Mello’s brow squirreled up but L proceeded without making eye contact.

“Near has three—two belonging to deceased Shinigami and one belonging to Light—Bella has one, Misa has one...and I have one.”

Goddamnit.

“Ryuk’s rules,” L went on. “Whatever offer he extends to Kira, he extends to me. He told me he offered Kira a notebook—back in Rome. He offered me the same—I told him I would only accept if Kira had accepted…hence I have a notebook...though I have yet to use it.”

"Yet?" Mello hissed with emphasis, narrowing his eyes at his elder as one would reprimand a child. "I would hope you’re not that foolish. Goddamnit L, the line has to be drawn somewhere. You've gone from someone whose main concern was self-preservation to purely self-destructive behavior. When will it ever stop..?" His frown deepened when L blinked owlishly at him. "Your life is your own to command as you see fit, but there is more to it than...Kira regardless of whether or not you're willing to accept it."

L’s hesitation was disturbing. “More to it than Kira,” he echoed thoughtfully. “Perhaps,” he said. “I have solved 12 cases since we came to Sicily…actually that’s a rather paltry number for me…no, you’re right Mello, my life is mine to command as I see fit, so I will determine where that line is drawn accordingly—and there is no sight of it for now as far as I can see. If an emergency calls for me to write a name in the Death Note, I will do so, if I must be transformed as Light is to match him in the end, I will do so, if I must give up whatever eternity awaits me to finish the task—I will do it.” He hesitated in light of the aggravated look that was now plastered across Mello’s features. “…Some of the blackest moments of my life happened two days ago,” L murmured. “I do not look forward to repeating such a thing…ever.”

“So in your mind,” Mello said low and steady, “If this thing comes to an end—an end in death—it will be no less than two funerals no matter what. You won’t die without him, and he won’t die without you.”

“Correct,” L said. “In my mind, that is the finality. That is what I want.” He paused then, "It doesn't mean I'm going to get it. I can fantasize Mello, but I'm not a fool. What I am, is prepared to do whatever it takes for the best possible outcome of this case. But this is Kira, and Kira knows no bounds...and neither do I."

“Unbelievable,” Mello breathed his frustration with a shake of his head. “Self-destructive idiots, the both of you.” As if he had any room to talk. Right. The chocolate was bitten into with misplaced annoyance. Or perhaps the more adequate word was anxiety. L had an uncanny way of riling him up. Again the gears switched. A wonder he could still function this sharply. The clock struck 4. “Light’s going to take it upon himself to find out about B. It might be in our best interest to let him know the basics before he ends up digging too deeply right off the bat. From what I gather he knows as much as us about what’s happening to him. Seemed perfectly composed about it at dinner earlier, but I have to wonder how much that lack of information is bothering – if not scaring him.” A snap and Mello chewed thoughtfully.

“He was positively well-behaved through the entirety of the day, almost suspiciously so. Did not even try to argue with Dr. Gregory to sit with you and has managed to play his way into both his and Linda’s hearts at the courtesy of that handy piano. The latter more so than the former, I expect.” Mello allowed a faint smile. “Bastard’s fishing for allies anywhere he can,” he scoffed.

“He played the piano?” And of all the things, the detective’s attention snagged on that detail. “I’ve been hoping to hear him play.”

Mello snorted. “I don’t think you will be disappointed, he’s rather perfect at it.”

L looked happy about that; “I don’t doubt it,” he said. “Oh, and I’ve been neglecting to mention—there’s a cello in the closet.”

Mello stopped mid-snap of chocolate and blinked owlishly at the detective, who returned his gaze; “I won’t require it of you—but it’s there if the mood strikes.”

“Oh,” Mello managed. “Okay.”

L seemed amused he’d caught the blonde off guard, which had him hopping back on topic before Mello was ready. “Of course Kira wants allies. He’s essentially lost his freedom, he understands more than he lets on that he is the villain outnumbered and it panics him—panics him especially when I’m not around to bounce off of. Kira has difficulty being at the mercy of those he may deem unworthy of himself—he wants to be in favor even with his enemies to avoid maltreatment. There is an interesting irony about Light…he does not like to be disliked. He won’t admit it, but it makes him angry, and he does whatever he can to win everyone over. He seeks out the common points of interest and exploits them to the best of his ability. He was always a popular individual—it actually bothers him when he isn’t admired and appreciated despite his boasts that he doesn’t care what other people think. We differ greatly there. I have never truly cared what other people think.”

Oh, that was true, and Mello couldn’t help but snort. L let it slide without acknowledging his own sense of humor in that statement.

“As for Light and B—give Light your records on the matter. The ones you wrote, you partially wrote it with the sense that Kira would ultimately read it, so it’s as good a documentation as any— even better with that fact considered. Like it was already prepared for him. The moment he sees the name Beyond Birthday he’ll recall the case regardless—he killed Beyond after all. Light’s behavior is another matter. A means to an end I’m not privy too because I didn’t have a chance to observe it. He may have just been immaculate to avoid being at the receiving end of a barrage of criticism from the likes of the rest of you. And he may have been covering—no—he is most certainly covering up what he feels for these past few days…come to think of it, he hasn’t even properly dealt with what happened at the SPK…there is a great multitude of things building upon Kira right now… it’s going to manifest somehow. But I have sensed something above everything else that has been eating at him…”

L stopped his sugar cube construction and shifted his gaze to Mello’s. “Tell me,” he said soberly, “In all honesty—what do you feel for Light?”

Again L had caught him off-guard. Likely making up for the one single point Mello had earned minutes earlier in asking after his arm. Damnit. Mello watched him carefully, then diverted his gaze elsewhere, narrowed, thoughtful.

That was not a question he'd been ready to answer. In fact, it was a question he had hoped to avoid for a whole lot longer, at least given present company. Matt had already prodded around the topic as much as Mello allowed him to before snarling and hissing and chasing him off. But... one could not get away with it that easily as far as L was concerned.

No. Not hardly.

So, Mello opted for the immediate truth. "I'm not sure how to answer that." It bought him time, sure enough he needed it to wrap his mind around what he'd avoided so ardently. It was simpler that way—to ignore the ramifications, to avoid logic and feeling and just go with the flow. But it was obvious he could no longer do that. It was obvious two nights prior when his cool, practiced facade crumbled traitorously around him.

"I sympathize,” he said at last. “I may not agree on certain matters, but I understand him all the same. I cannot stand to admit it, but depending on how you tilt the looking glass, we are not so different. I suppose in a sense, you can say that he has won me over, but my mind is still my own. There are no misconceptions between us." Little did he know that he was echoing the very same words Light had told Linda only days prior. "If push comes to shove, he'll just as readily scribble off my name as I will put a bullet in his head. That isn't even a question. But you already know that. You've known that since Rome and it’s why you had me play caretaker over him." He cast L a glimpse then, but got nothing out of those blank features. Too good. Far too good.

Mello exhaled. "He had me promise him - no, that's wrong. I didn't have to promise him anything. I wanted to, and I did. To keep him out of the SPK's grasp, or to get him back in the worst case scenario. Because regardless of what he's done, not even he deserves such treatment and perhaps had you asked me months ago, my answer would have been very different. And there's the rub... why do I even give a shit? Why did I refuse your backup? Why did I put myself at stake in the favor of a quicker operation in order to get him out of there?" He fell silent a moment, scoffing. "Hell if I know. He's given me a reason to care. Not even a year ago I was ready to kill him myself and now I'm doing what I can to keep him alive."

Not to mention grieving over his loss... worrying over the fate of his immortal soul. Worrying about his goddamned feelings. Shit, when had it ever become so complicated?! "I do not love him, it isn't about that." And in the back of Mello’s mind, he cursed the small voice that questioned that statement. "But I feel for him all the same. While his regard for you remains unchallenged and will always remain that way, we see eye to eye on an entirely different level, I think..." But, even after all that, it still made no goddamned sense in Mello’s mind. None. Whatsoever. Because while the sex was good - no, it was bloody fucking great - somewhere along the lines it had gone beyond that. The previous night proved it. His behavior toward Light earlier that very evening proved it

Goddamnit. Just... goddamnit.

“What if I said it might be?” L ventured, making a pyramid out of the remaining brownies.

“Might be what?” Mello countered, and he was waiting for the axe to fall on what he’d just said—waiting for L to call him on something.

“About love.”

Mello’s gaze narrowed quizzically.

“Not necessarily from your perspective—you just said you do not love him. But from his?”

“That’s a hefty insinuation you’re making,” Mello pointed out brow disappearing under the fringe of his bangs. “And one I find highly unlikely.” And yet as he said it, he was already questioning it. No. Certainly not.

“Why?” L muttered. “You should know by now he wants your love in some way—you’ve drawn clear lines in terms of your ideals, but you’ve also conceded to being similar, walking a common ground, you’ve shared a bed, you promised to protect him, you saved him from the SPK and mourned his passing—or near-passing. In a mundane language that would constitute more than just sympathizing with him…”

L nibbled at a brownie that was not quite so square as the others to correct its shape. He gave up mid way around and ate the whole thing, which left him one brownie short of a full pyramid, and his eyebrow squirreled up at his luck. “You’ve tapped a human thread in Kira, Mello,” he said. “He values you far more than he can admit…to you or himself…but part of me thinks he wants to…”

Mello could hardly conceal the flinch. When listed so plainly like that, he was hard pressed to find the proper argument out of that none-too-subtle insinuation. No, damnit. Things were already complicated as-is. Lips parted as if to speak, but he clamped them shut as if the words simply… escaped him. In a way, they had because he truly did not know what to say to that. What to even make of it. Shit.

In the space of Mello’s silence, L had rebuilt his pyramid by eating off several more excess brownies to even the structure out. When he was finished, he looked up. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he said flatly. “It disturbs you to think that Kira harbors love for you?” He paused, goddamnit, here it came: “Or that you may harbor love for him?” L squished a piece of gooey brownie between his thumb and forefinger. “Explain to me what happened again tonight…when he broke down…”

Mello’s lips pursed, teeth grit, his jaw set. Fuck. “He crept up behind me once I got off the phone,” he said at first through gritted teeth, then forcing himself to release some of that tension to narrate properly. “Generally pissy mood. Asked after B, didn’t get a proper reply so the mood escalated beyond general pissyness. I called him on it because there was obviously something amiss and that’s when he started breaking down.” Mello paused, frowning as he visualized what had followed. “I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he refused and claimed it did not matter.” Brows furrowed. “He allowed me to comfort him for a few moments before snapping, shoving me away and taking off down the hall…”

“He’s angry at you for not seeing things at his level right now,” L muttered. “The fact that Light was able to maintain his composure despite everything that’s recently happened must have taken a lot. I’ve seen him do this before—he used to be so very good at it prior to the warehouse—he could maintain a façade as long as it took—inhumanly long—but it’s like I said earlier—he’s the broken doll, he’s cracking.” L was beginning to run out of sweets, ironically enough, brownie pyramid notwithstanding. That meant the conversation would be running low, or he’d be breaking to refuel pretty soon. “He wants you to understand him the way he knows you can—he will not say it, because that’s beneath him; but the moment you refuse to look through his surface to decode his behavior, he flies off the handle.”

Mello frowned and watched the army of sweets begin to disappear around the too-delicious looking construct. “…he caught me at a shitty time,” he confessed begrudgingly. And was that not the truth? His mind had been too wrapped up in the enigma that was B to properly switch into the necessary gears that would take to operate on Kira’s level. At least as far as deciphering the too-intricate psychology behind him. Shit. He’d made a wrong move.

“He’s being moody, Mello,” L said simply. “I’m merely explaining his psychology, I’m not telling you to bow down to his every whim. In most cases, he knows he can’t get away with that sort of thing around me—but lately circumstances have been…trying…at best. It’s begrudging for me to admit that Light needs the extra attention right now…and if he weren’t asleep, I’d be up there with him. And there are times I give in because I know if I don’t that will prompt his scheming ambitions into overdrive—out of spite.”

Typical. Mello did not comment but nodded his acknowledgement. L was not the only one running out of fuel. But then again, while L had spent a good portion of the day sleeping – as restlessly as it may have been – Mello was running on a few hours of rest, if one could even call it that. He’d drunk himself to a fitful doze the first time around and cried himself into a two hour slumber roughly twenty four hours prior. Not the best conditions. A wonder coherency had lasted this long. “Go sit with him for the rest of the night,” he said to the detective. “Even if he is asleep, it might help. He was as worried about you as the rest of us.” Mello pushed himself up then with a creak of leather. “I’m positively knackered, and if you want me at all functional in a few hours, I’m afraid I’ll have to call it a night.” He gathered the laptop and books scattered around the couch and returned them to a heap on the desk. “Thank you for this,” he called over his shoulder.

* * *

It was about 10 in the morning when Mello stuck his head in the doorway of the medical room—ironically the room Light and L had chosen for their shared bedroom. Given both of their track records lately, it was probably a good thing all the medical equipment was nearby. Nevertheless, it had something of a luxurious feeling now—the sunlight pouring in the long windows, the ever-pleasant lush tree bows arching against the balcony balustrade just outside. The translucent curtains swayed in the breeze, and the bed itself was no longer so sterile looking, but blanketed with a plush quilt and the softest sheets.

Light was up, but not up. He sat in bed, still in his pajamas, propped up against the pillows. He’d missed breakfast, but L had made the excuse for him—saying Kira did not feel particularly well, and now while L was actually pouring over a newly devised security system Matt had been working on, Mello had sucked it up and come to check on Light.

Of course, that morning already had been interesting. Dr. Gregory had found Kira in the bed L was supposed to have been occupying, and the detective—much to the relief/worry of the rest of the household, was up and about since Mello had retired in the wee hours. L assured everyone he was fine, and his exhaustion—however warranted due to circumstances—was a typical cycle he’d been enduring for most of his known life. Must have been left out of the records because Dr. Gregory had no prior idea—or L was lying, which was more likely the case. He wasn’t about to expose his weakness, so he passed it off as normal.

Everyone was relieved, because unlike the previous morning—L was back on track. His mind as sharp as ever, his wit too apparently given several remarks he made over breakfast regarding a variety of topics. But Mello already knew L was on his game from their late-night talk, so he was able to sit back and enjoy the show.

Upstairs was a different matter. But Light was composed, comfortably lounging in bed, tea by his side, he was midway through the BB case files, and Mello assumed L had given it to him early that morning. Good. That gave them an opening topic to avoid the awkwardness of the night before.

“I didn’t realize you were such a witty writer, Mello,” Light said without looking up from his reading.

“Oh?” Mello snapped the chocolate and settled in L’s usual seat in front of the windows.

“Clever how you make it seem Ryuzaki is L.”

He was only halfway through the documentation but it had to be more than obvious to him regardless.

“Figured that out, did you?” Mello purred.

“From the moment you introduce him—of course,” Light replied. “L may have his oddities, but he was never downright frightful. Besides…I know him. So I assume this Ryuzaki is B then, I remember his face, but the photo I had was actually quite…charred. So what was he, a copycat of L’s?”

“Read the book,” Mello replied. “I’m not sure what L is prepared to divulge outside of that document. Or maybe he just wants to see what conclusions your brilliant mind deduces before he discusses anything further.”

The wayward compliment drew Light’s gaze up briefly. His eyes met Mello’s but the look in them was unreadable. “Another thing,” he said.

“Hmm?” chocolate set firmly between Mello’s lips.

“My opinion of Misora Naiomi has gone significantly…down.”

“An odd remark coming from her murderer.”

Light’s brows lifted haughtily and his eyes went back to the book. “When I met her, I thought her radar was more finely tuned, but here it’s so obvious B is leading her to find everything he wants her to—and she just shuffles along practically without question. Hello?”

“Ah, but she figured you out, didn’t she?” Mello muttered.

Light scoffed—the arrogance play was back. “No. She figured out things about Kira—she never figured out Kira was standing right beside her. Bit of a difference.”

“Yeah, cost her her life and all.”

Amber eyes shot up again. “Did you have a point coming up here?” Light said somewhat bitterly.

“I always have a point, be it that you agree with it or not,” Mello countered, smirking playfully. At least what few hours of sleep he’d enjoyed had been enough to recharge the batteries. Prodding at Kira was a favorite past time. Guilty as charged.

“How far along are you?” he asked, nodding to the ever slightly embellished case-file. All right, he’d done more than embellish it slightly – the whole bloody narrative was meant to be read not as a sleep-inducing dissertation, but a small challenge that would keep the pages flipping. Of course, even though at first he had anticipated Kira reading it, he had never factored this particular scenario into things. Mello had to admit that it was ever slightly unnerving to have Light dissect his writing like that. But hey, he’d called it witty! That was a plus, right?

“She’s just been attacked by B in an alley and is now meeting with him to investigate Quarter Queen’s former residence…” Light answered without looking up. “But honestly, Mello, what is it with these names? I was hoping they are just some clever aliases you used to occupy yourself, because who in their right mind would name their child Backyard Bottomslash? That’s just cruel.”

Mello chuckled and shook his head. “No, I wasn’t trying to be nearly that creative. It would have changed the entire case had I made up names for the hell of it. It’ll make sense soon enough,” he said all the while sparing a glimpse out the windows. The day was shaping up to be beautiful outside. From behind him there was a soft mew of protest. Or rather, demand. Mello blinked, peering down at Noriko who’d just been caught with a paw in the air about to dig it firmly into soft leather. “I thought we had talked about that,” he reprimanded her fondly, picking her up only to deposit her at Light’s feet. “And my point was to check on you.”

Light watched him drop the cat. “No, don’t do that,” he said with more than a grain of irritability, “She goes after my feet—I hate that.” No sooner had he said it, then Noriko decided the closest peak of concealed Kira foot would make a fine meal—she wrapped herself around it, claws bare and jaws agape and Light yelped. “Godddamnit Mello, get her off or I’m gonna launch her!”

Mello laughed, not so much as bothering to conceal it. Not that he had at all anticipated the result. Surely not. Grinning widely, he pried the kitten away. Immediately, she fell contently against his chest, purring all the while, a little look of kitty-victory upon her face. “She likes you,” the blonde teased.

Light frowned. “No,” he said, “She likes L, and she likes you—we do not get along in the least.”

“She only chews the toes of people she likes,” Mello laughed, teasingly.

“She chews any set of toes she damn well feels like it,” Light retorted. Sometimes he was cute when he was angry…and that sentiment was just proof of Mello’s good mood.

“And I’m fine, by the way,” Light added, in response to Mello’s previous comment. “Thank you for caring.” That was not sarcasm, not in the least. Ha.

“Shall I leave her here with you, then?” he jested, holding the kitten around the middle so that her little paws stuck out in all four directions, eyes widening, banking on the chance of nomming Light’s foot again.

Light actually recoiled, his eyes darting to the four sets of claws ready to use him as a pin cushion. “No, definitely not!” he hissed. “In fact, take her downstairs and put her on L’s head or something because all she does is go after my feet and bug me for food. I never feed her—you’d think she’d know not to beg from me.”

Mello scratched under the kitten’s chin. “Perhaps she thinks you’re a handsome bastard when you’re angry and is trying to schmooze you?”

Light’s reaction skipped a beat. “…What?”

It was becoming harder to contain the wild grin that wanted to spread itself across Mello’s features. Those green eyes alight – devious. “Yea, I’d say that’s the case,” he nodded sagely, lifting the kitten up to eye level as if to confirm his brilliant deduction. She purred contently and nuzzled at his chin. “Agreed.” Two seconds latter, Noriko was on the bed and hopping – four paws in the air bunny style – for the nearest target she could get herself around. “Ah. She makes me proud…” Mello said wistfully.

“Fuck!” Light growled, as that target so happened to be his foot again—kitten teeth went right through the blanket and Light jumped—and Mello was suddenly there to catch him, pulling him into a rather surprising kiss that Kira was totally unprepared for. Mello sucked Light’s breath away, hand curling appreciatively around that chiseled jaw—and Light only protested (albeit feebly) because he was stuck in that angry rut of his…he melted soon enough however, weight sinking with begrudging appreciation against Mello’s chest until Mello broke the kiss and pulled back grinning to meet those two narrowed amber eyes.

“What are you doing?” Light growled—though his cheeks were a bit flushed, Mello noted with a delighted arch of eyebrow.

“Most people tend to call that a kiss,” he explained innocently, then went on to add the translation of the same word in three other languages. “Bacio, kuß, baiser… I’m sure you’re familiar.” All right, perhaps the short amount of sleep had been just enough to energize him, but his brain was shot all the same. Ah. No harm done until he passed out on his desk sometime later that afternoon. “Unless you’re asking after my intentions! Right… well, since you’re in such a shitty mood I figured that havin’ your toes half-chewed off – who the fuck needs ‘em anyway? – and a proper snog would lift your spirits.” And by now he’d appropriately switched to English, if only to infuriate Light further. Ah, but it was so cute and downright endearing the way his brows furrowed because in all honesty, that wasn’t anger. That was pure stubbornness.

Light was quite visibly at a loss for words, in fact, he was so thrown he was gaping because he’d expected just about any other approach than this one. He became aware of his own silence about the moment Mello’s wanton lips curled into a Cheshire Cat grin, and then Kira laughed. He laughed because that was it—the blonde had him.

“I have no idea what you’re on right now,” Light managed; and Mello was slinking in toward him again, which had Light—oh seducer of all things on two legs—actually backing up against his headboard; “But—” Concentration was forfeit as Mello fixed him in that predatory gaze, pushing in close without touching—breaths and lips a whisper away as Mello drew a finger down Light’s face.

“But what?” He prodded.

Light had no idea what he was talking about. “Huh?” And that was hardly discernable even for a common non-word.

“You were saying something,” Mello purred.

Light’s breathing was shallow and it took a long moment before he most visibly reached out and pulled himself together. Pity.

“Yeah, I was,” he grit out at last. Back to that stubborn thing. “You’re fucked in the head, Mello,” he spat finally—but he was still conveniently backed into the corner regardless.

“Yea,” Mello murmured, not so much as taking offence to the statement. Light would have said something different had he truly meant to offend. “Comes with the territory, I suppose.” His voice dropped down to a whisper as he plunged in, capturing those lush, scowling lips with his own – the scowl melted away quite easily beneath the forcefully heated kiss. Light would never admit it, of course, that in his stubbornness he had returned the gesture. And quite eagerly so. But that’s what made this all the more amusing. The blonde casually swept his fingers downward along the smooth contours of his lover’s chest, flicking one or two buttons open in the descent but… just as the breath hitched in Light’s throat, that touch pausing so low upon his abdomen, Mello broke the kiss with a playful nip and winked.

“Yea. I’d say you’re doing a little better…”

Light had no argument because he was quite visibly torn—that syrup in his gaze said ‘take me now’ and yet his scowl was intent on pursuing that 16-year-old-girl mentality. “L sent you up here to piss me off,” he huffed.

“L did no such thing,” Mello replied. “If L wanted to piss you off, I’m sure he’d relish the opportunity to do it himself, in person.” And as he spoke his finger was tracing the now very open collar of Light’s shirt. Mello read the want inking over that honeyed gaze despite itself, and with a devious smile he pulled back to straighten up.

“I just wanted to see how you were feeling,” he feigned, ready to brush the matter aside and take his leave—but in tune with his expectations, he’d pushed the right buttons, and Light suddenly caught his arm, yanking him down into a hungry kiss—which ended up with the two of them completely knotted around each other—Mello half lifting Light off the bed as Light’s arms were wrapped in a death-grip around his shoulders.

“And I want you to know,” Light growled, in between the sucking and the biting, “That I don’t appreciate a damn thing you say about me in that book.”

Mello laughed against his lips, unable to contain his mirth because, goddamn, it was just so very typical of Light to bring up such a thing and actually sound offended. Mello had insulted him more than enough to his face in recent months, but of course, written word always carried that much more power. "That so?" he mustered, using the headboard as leverage to push himself up and stare down at those scowling yet gorgeous features. Damn bastard. "Try not to take it too personally," he murmured teasingly, knuckles following the curve of Kira's jaw. "Well... I suppose you should take it personally seeing as it was written about you," Mello corrected himself, his grin widening. "But..." a breathy whisper. He leaned closer, lips kissably close. "Let's just say... I know better now..."

Kira seemed to like that, but was not altogether convinced. It brought to Mello’s mind what L had said about Light not liking being disliked. Mello had to stifle the smirk—despite all he and Light had gone through these past few months, Light had managed to somehow actually be insulted by words written years ago. It was just too quirky in that Kira-sort of way and Mello wanted to laugh.

“Oh?” Light managed. “And what do you know better now?” He was baiting again—he wanted to hear something in particular like he’d wanted to hear last night. He wanted his damn ego fed at the very least. Ha. Insufferable.

A pale brow disappeared beneath his bangs and Mello awarded Kira an all too amused look. But, ah hell, he could play along. "Well..." he murmured, lips against Light’s jaw, trailing gradually upward toward his ear. "Insufferable bastard of a villain you may be, you're not so bad...In fact, you're actually tolerable for longer than five minutes at a time." That much had been proved long ago. "I still don't particularly agree with your goals in life, but I suppose you've got your reasons and your logically-derived motives." Teeth nipped gently at Light’s earlobe, tongue flicking against the sensitive area. "You're also incredibly sexy to boot," and here Mello grinned, tangling his fingers into those soft amber tresses. "You make the most delicious little sounds - ah, just like that," he purred as Light trembled against the sensual assault despite himself, a soft sound upon those half-parted lips. "You look positively divine," and Mello drew out the word, whispering it huskily into his ear, "when I fuck you into oblivion." He let the imagery set in and pressed a heated kiss to the oversensitive spot of flesh at Kira's neck. "But don't get me wrong," he finished affectionately. "You're still a damnable git."

“And you’re a bloody wanker,” Light purred, panting—in English—and oh my, his accent was better…much better…soft and feathery and lilting and Mello paused because it was damn sexy too. In a day he’d improved? Or maybe he’d just been practicing that particular phrase? Mello leaned back and smiled like a wolf.

“Say that again,” he murmured thickly.

Light bit his lip and grinned like an imp, shaking his head ‘no.’

Oh the game was on… “Say that again,” Mello growled, in that amazing, sex-starved sort of rock-star way, “Or I’m going to tickle you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Light shot back in Japanese. It was one thing if he lost it when they were alone—but the sound of Kira giggling wafting down the hallway would mess with all sorts of brilliant minds in hearing range. What’s worse—if L didn’t already know about it…he’d find out now.

“No?” Mello smiled, “Try me.” Fingers teased into Light’s side, and oh that erratic breathing Light managed whenever he was trying to fight the oversensitive sensations. The writhing the squirming, the pure sex of it all. Kira took the innocence right out of tickling—so of course Mello had every intention of tickling him whether he repeated the phrase or not.

It was just the most feathery touch and perhaps that was the key – fingers gliding smoothly over Light’s sides, which caused him to jolt and bite his lip, restraining the sensations that had been once so expertly controlled. But Mello had gotten through that particular barrier, hadn’t he? The blonde grinned and it was that trademark dangerous grin, eyes sparking with deviousness. “I want to hear it again,” he growled lowly into Kira’s ear, adding insult to injury. Oh, how fun it was to fluster him. How delightful it was to feel him tense up and squirm beneath his touch.

Long fingers clamped over his wrists but Mello still had the upper hand and with much delight, tickled him in earnest because it was just too goddamned amusing to see Kira squirm, to see the stubbornness crease across his features as he withheld the laughter Mello knew was there, just bubbling beneath the surface. He knew there was that softer, more carefree side to him. He knew just what Light could look like when there were no worries in the world and he was overcome by something so simple – so human – as tickle-induced laughter.

* * *

L’s head bobbed up over the laptop, his expression a cross between owl and confused panda. “What was that?” he said. Matt’s eyes darted to him through yellow lenses.

“What was what?” L had the ears of a canine apparently because Matt didn’t hear anything.

“Someone is giggling,” L muttered.

“No one in this house giggles,” Matt droned flatly, “Except maybe Linda.”

“Not Linda,” L replied. He strained again, and then smirked somewhat impishly. “Nevermind,” he said.

* * *

“Mello! Stop! Stop!” Light was rolling by this point and Mello was relentless because it was just too much damn fun and Kira’s laughter was weightless and musical and way too nice to hear.

Poor Light was rather breathless and fighting for air, having flipped onto his stomach in an effort to defend himself, and Mello was upon his back, fingers mercilessly diving into all manners of ticklish places…though it was a rather nice position come to think of it…only Light was wearing far too many clothes…

Mello was biting his bottom lip, endlessly mirthful and… in a moment of mercy paused his torture. At least the tickling bit. But hands stayed where they rested at his sides, low against narrow hips as the blonde leaned over to nip at Kira’s earlobe. “What’s the magic word?” he whispered, threatening with another soft brush of fingers.

Anyone who saw them now would think themselves hallucinating, because there was just no fucking way that Kira was flopped on his front, gasping breathlessly at the mercy of Mello’s tickle-torture. And Mello well… straddling Kira’s waist like that, bent over the lithe, still squirming body to whisper good-humored non-sense into his ear. No, that just wasn’t sane in any sense of the word.

“Magic word?” Light gasped, he was panting quite heavily under Mello’s weight, and the blonde took that opportunity to peel Light’s shirt off one shoulder where he had him pinned—cool lips pressing to smooth golden skin, soft, flirting kisses between breaths. And Light’s eyes were on him, watching him with a thickening desire as he reigned his gigglefit back in. Mello skirted a bit down Light’s body to pull the shirt off the other shoulder, his lips trailing then to Light’s spine—the kisses still light and fleeting.

Of course the magic word that fit with the scenario was ‘please,’ the magic word to call off Mello’s torture was ‘Kami’ Light, however, had a couple of magic words all his own.

His eyes narrowed with lust, and he breathed quite wantonly: “Fuck me.”

Mello stilled, jaw falling slack for a moment until he caught himself, eyes intent on his no-longer squirming captive. Well. Yea, I suppose that could be a magic word. It was effective as any – if not more so. “Ah…” he breathed, lips brushing Light’s shoulder. “Fuck you?” he whispered intently, predatorily. Oh, the game was on all right. “Is that a demand, or a request, Kira?” Even as he spoke, one hand swept down, expertly pushing beneath the bridge of Light’s trousers to dip around and grab Light’s sex firmly. “Depending on your answer, I may deem it worth it to fuck you into the mattress, or leave you with your prick in your hands.” He growled quietly, pressing against him.

The pleasure shot through Light like ice through bourbon as Mello’s hand closed around his straining flesh. He groaned, the kind of groan he knew made Mello’s eyes roll back beneath heavy lids. “Neither,” Light managed—and oh he was a wily one, Kira: “I’m begging.”

Oh. Well. In that case Mello just couldn’t pose a passable argument, now could he? Bastard. The blonde hissed – it was enough to show his frustration. Kira knew well what he was doing. He’d known it well for some time now because even though Mello appeared to remain in charge, Light was getting just what he wanted. And that, at this particular moment, was to get fucked with abandon. And that was one thing Mello could very well provide.

Mello was off him within seconds, fishing the discarded shirt off the floor where it had fallen. Light’s arms were tugged forcefully behind him before he even had the chance to push himself up and demand an explanation. He could demand all he wanted, but one thing was certain – those wrists were expertly tied securely behind his back. Without even so much as a brief pause to admire his work, Mello flicked his belt open and in one smooth gesture, slid it from its housing around his waist. The leather came down across Light’s back without so much as a warning. The cry that followed was stifled as the blonde shoved Kira’s head down against the pillows. Fingers tangled into his hair and Mello yanked his head back up, leaning closely over him to snarl. “I’ll think about it.”

Light’s panting which had just been one of complete arousal was now laced firmly with pain, the tears had sprung unwillingly to his eyes as the lashing he’d just received smarted into a definitive welt across his back. Mello hadn’t pulled that punch—and whether he’d meant to or not, neither of them knew for sure at that moment.

For a distinct instant there was a race of fear through Light’s features—he was confused, because that wasn’t playful the way they’d just been a moment before, and his panting gave way to whimpering, his submission genuine then and there and his thoughts obviously scrambled, scattered, finally coming back together to form the oddest conclusion:

His gaze slid sideways to Mello who still fisted his hair rather dominantly and Kira’s expression hardened, edged with a deepening desire.

“More,” he said.

If Mello was surprised, it was cleverly controlled behind a thin smile. Dominant if not borderline sadistic. The hand that fisted Light’s hair loosened, coming around to clamp firmly over those half-parted lips—ready to silence his next cry. Green eyes hardened but that smile remained and for a moment, Mello delighted in the fright that flashed briefly across Light’s features. Mello struck him again, leather across bare flesh a second time and the angle was hardly the most effective, yet, the pain was there, laced with a perverse sort of pleasure that throbbed at Light’s groin, pressed against the mattress. It was not so unlike the heat that pulsed Mello’s cock almost painfully against the tight lacing. But he was in control and such minor details could be ignored just a while longer for the sake of this new dangerous game of theirs. Never a dull moment, this much was certain and while Mello had hoped for good results, he had not expected Light to crumble with desire from such abusive treatment—so quickly.

It was good. In fact, this was fucking excellent. Mello bit his bottom lip and struck again, shoving Light down against the pillows in order to hit him properly without the risk of nicking his arms by accident. Not that Mello didn’t want to hurt him, but it would throw off the blow and cause unnecessary harm. He was thoughtful even in the midst of the sadism—portrayed in full for perhaps the first time for Light to see.

Light’s cry was agonized even as it was muffled by the pillows—and he let it out without any sugarcoating. This was genuine pain, this was real and thick and pulsating—raw in his voice when Mello struck him hardest next—this was akin to that night in the bathtub when Light all but baited Mello to rape him—and rape him hard… odd that, and Mello couldn’t help but recall what L had said about Light being a child of rape. Oh the complex nature of Kira.

Light was stiff beneath him, keening his agony into the bed so as not to bring the attention of anyone else even as he strained—the welts on his back rising fiery across his flesh—too brutal, too forceful, too perfect, and Mello leaned down, dragging his tongue across one to sooth the tortured skin, if only for a moment. And Light shuddered, moaning, whimpering, hurting…

“I admit,” Mello confessed quietly several moments later, lips brushing Light’s trembling, strained shoulder. And his touch then was practically gentle – a true mindfuck – as he traced a hand slowly down the length of Light’s spine to the makeshift restraints, tugging the knot loose so that his arms fell loose, limp at his sides. Mello’s lips started at the nape of Light’s neck and slowly descended feathery kisses downward along that brutalized back. Kira was trembling desperately. Mello could feel the shivers race along his flesh and smiled as he paused at the small of his back. Fingers hooked around the hem of his pants and tugged, torturously slowly along those narrow hips until they were completely pulled free and tossed carelessly aside.

It was a game – always a game. Keep Light anticipating the next blow all the while showering him with soft and feathery kisses. And it wasn’t until Mello felt the first hint of relaxation spread across taut, stiff muscles that he struck again, muffling Light’s cries as involuntary tears fell from those gorgeous amber eyes. Mello flipped Kira over onto his back, which only resulted in a sharp gasp of pain as the sheets, soft as they may be, pressed to fresh welts. The blonde was not so ruthless, however, and slipping that assaulting belt around Kira’s neck, tugged him forward and up to a sitting position to meet his gaze.

Mello regarded him quietly, appreciating his handy work – the strain upon those chiseled features, the tears, the pain, the pleasure. “Beautiful…” he whispered appreciatively, sliding a finger down a damp cheek.

What was strange was that at the word, Light’s eyes seemed to flood deeper—he wasn’t maintaining eye contact either, his Kira façade slipping the way it had the night before—this was either the pinnacle of his submission, or something else. Even through his haze of desire Mello caught the nuance…and then Light said it, he put his hand softly against Mello’s chest and said:

“Kami.”

And just that easily, Mello’s whole outward persona changed almost immediately. His grip loosened, the leather fell away, hands went to either side of Light’s cheek, eyes bearing down into his own. It was over, just like that. A simple word that overrode all the rules. “Are you all right..?” Mello asked quietly, much as he had that one night back in Rome when push came to shove and their games got just a tad out of hand. Only this time, Light had allowed himself to shove his pride away in order to stop it because it became more serious than he could handle.

Light couldn’t answer, just like he couldn’t answer that night, head bowing low, fingers squeezing Mello’s arm leaning into him. Mello pulled him close before Light could even get there all the way, the two of them kneeling on the bed, and Mello was pulling the comforter over Light’s nudity even as Kira clung to him.

“It’s not the pain,” Light managed, cheek pressed to Mello’s shoulder. “You didn’t hurt me,” the welts said otherwise, but Light had taken far worse pain in recent history.

Mello was stroking his hair, cradling him tighter. “Then what?” He said gently. “What’s wrong, Light—talk to me.”

“I don’t think I have an answer,” came the hoarse reply. “I didn’t have one last night either...”

He did not want to accept it, but all the same, Mello nodded briefly against him, never once stopping the gestures, sweeping digits through his hair, gently massaging the tender spot at the back of his neck. “That’s twice you break apart on me,” he murmured softly, not so much an accusation as singling out the obvious. “If I’ve done something to bring this on…”

“No, I lo—,” Light visibly stuttered the sentence, stiffening for a moment without finishing it. He probably would have stayed as silent as he was just then but that would have been worse, so he tried to rescue himself by stumbling over the first excuse that rose to mind. “No, it’s just—everything, the stress I suppose, everything that’s happened…” He was still stiff, however, his thoughts obviously snagged on what he almost said…

Mello stilled a moment, then immediately forced himself to reel back in and let it pass as if he hadn’t caught it. Ha. Not caught it. As if he couldn’t bloody understand what Light was about to say, faded out word or not, it had been a dead give away and it took him by surprise. But, perhaps, not as much as it could have, had it not been for his conversation with L the previous night. Shit. Either way… shit!

Once upon a time he would have been the arsehole to point that out, to ignore what was said after the fact and call Light on that near-blunder, which was obviously plaguing him. Mello had to wonder if it had come as much a surprise to Kira in that instant. Still he stroked Light’s hair, still he held him in that comforting embrace with the comforter pinned beneath his arm gently across Light’s shoulders. “Understandable…” Mello said quietly at last, breath warm against Light’s temple. Dear God, what was happening?

Light seemed at a loss then, trying in vain to decide where to go from here—waiting for Mello to call him on his slip-up, not sure what to say if he did. Mello’s arms felt too good; but Light wasn’t looking into his eyes to see what the blonde was thinking…he caught it—they both knew he did and Light wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was going on in Mello’s head, wasn’t sure what was going on in his own.

“I’m keeping you from your work,” Light managed at last. Of all the things, there was no true way to save face from this one—could he admit defeat and retreat into the shadows? He was already halfway there it seemed…

“I’m keeping me from my work,” Mello countered. “This week has been one bloody holiday of distractions, but I’ll deal.” When Light said nothing, he continued, leaning back ever slightly so that he could look down at him. “Hey,” Mello nudged him lightly. “Are you going to be all right?” Mello asked, taking that chiseled chin in his hand so that Light had little choice but to look at him at last. “Beyond your wonderfully orchestrated facades, I mean. Truly, will you be all right?”

Light blinked and Mello was tenderly wiping the wetness from his lover’s eyes—eyes that seemed so very different from normal—softer, gentler. His face was still flushed, he looked so raw and natural—with his golden skin and damp lashes and lips still so very full and kissable. It was the way he was looking at him too that was endearing and Mello just stopped to study him, searching deep and Light had yet to answer.

“I’ll be fine,” he said at last. He sounded convincing enough, but had anything truly been resolved? And was his behavior not disturbing enough? Mello hesitated. It wasn’t like he was very far away, if Light needed him—shit.

Almost as if he knew, that small wayward smile crept across Kira’s lips. “I’m sorry,” he said, hands slipping around Mello’s waist. “I’ll make it up to you some other time.”

It was probably at that moment that Mello understood which was the façade after all…and it wasn’t the former.

Mello mustered a small smile for Light’s benefit. “I will hold you to that,” he returned and pressed a kiss to those devilishly smiling lips before breaking away, slowly if not downright reluctantly, but he made it a point to keep the comforter snuggly around his lover’s shoulders.

As an after thought, however, he lowered the blanket again to take a peek at Light’s back and the welts marring golden flesh. They were not so bad and most of the discomfort would likely alleviate by that evening. Hopefully. “It doesn’t look too bad…” After all, Mello had inflicted worse. “Get some rest. Finish reading – not forcefully in that order.” And this time the smirk was genuine. The blonde slipped off the bed and after a moment’s pause, leaned down to steal a parting kiss – hungry and demanding. It did not linger, however. “I’ll be downstairs most of the day, if you need anything.”