Riddles in the Dark

BY : Moontyger
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 4650
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.




Title: Riddles
in the Dark


Author: Moontyger


Pairing: L/Yagami
Raito


Rating: NC-17,
explicit sex


Warnings: non-con,
mindgames


Disclaimer: Unfortunately
for me, I own neither Death Note nor these characters. If I did,
several things about canon would be different




The hotel suite was dark when Yagami
Raito entered that afternoon. This was an unexpected development.
Was L asleep? But then most of the time he seemed to sleep with the
lights on, still sitting at the computers. Had something happened?
Was this some kind of test? He paused uncertainly just inside,
trying to let his eyes adjust. Even when they did, he still couldn't
see much as the only light came faintly from the heavily curtained
window.


Well, if this were a test, he had
better act concerned. “Ryuzaki?” he called, walking
carefully forward so he didn't trip over anything. “Are you
all right?”


No response. This was just downright
weird. Raito was beginning to be annoyed. This had to be some game
of L's.


He thought he sensed movement nearby
and turned in that direction. Suddenly his wrists were grabbed in a
surprisingly strong grip and he felt
handcuffs snap shut around them. He struggled, but even though he
felt his foot impact someone behind him, he didn't think he'd done
any serious damage.


“Ryuzaki? What the hell is
going on?” he demanded. Now he was seriously pissed off. He
knew the detective was weird, but this was ridiculous! “What
gives you the right to do this to me?”


Still no response. That was seriously
beginning to bother him. He could hear Ryuk laughing nearby, but he
wasn't saying anything useful about what was going on. Damn L and
damn the Shinigami, too! Surely Ryuk could see better than he; would
it kill him to tell Raito what was happening?


Something was dropped over his eyes
and secured there: a blindfold? Again he fought, once more to little
result. Blind and without the use of his hands, he was at a
significant disadvantage. All he succeeded in doing was tripping and
hitting his head hard on the coffee table.


Dazed, he didn't resist when his
unseen assailant hauled him to his feet and led him forward, before
shoving him down face first on what had to be the bed.


“Ryuzaki? Is that you?”
he tried again. “What are you doing?” The continued
silence and mysterious situation were beginning to get to him and he
began to feel real fear for the first time. Not fear of discovery;
he lived with that constantly, but fear for himself, his own safety.
Was he, Kira, god of the new world, really about to be the victim of
a crime himself? It would be ironic if it were happening to anyone
else.


Hands now, unfastening his belt, his
pants, and removing them. Raito was beginning to feel really alarmed
now. If this were a game, it was a sick and twisted one. He knew he
hit the bastard doing this, heard him grunt in pain at least once,
but he couldn't tell who it was and it didn't seem to stop them.
They merely tied his ankles together, too, with something rough:
rope? Or some kind of twine? Interesting how his mind immediately
went to trying to figure out what was happening to him, puzzling over
minutiae in order to distract him from his fear and helplessness.


Now that he was bound, he was shoved
onto his back. His shirt was unbuttoned and he felt those
disembodied hands on his bare skin. He shivered and not just because
they were cold, although they were. This was creepy. It had to be
L, didn't it? Who else could be here? Yet he hadn't seen or heard
enough to really be certain. This person seemed almost as much of a
cipher as L was supposed to be. Ryuga had said there were others,
hadn't he, a whole group of Ls? Was this one of the others? How
would he know?


“Ryuzaki, stop,” he said,
as fingers pinched and caressed his nipples. To his dismay, it felt
good and he felt them respond, stiffening and becoming more
sensitive. The extra adrenaline in his body from his fear made the
sensations seem heightened, better, more intense. A warm mouth
closed over one and he moaned, regretting it but unable to stop it.
A hand stroked his sides, his thighs, traced his hipbones. He felt
himself harden and whimpered. What was this? Why was this
happening?


“L, stop this,” he said
again. He was helpless, the situation out of his control and he
hated it. He needed control. Raito was going to be a god -
who dared do this to him? Didn't they know who they were dealing
with here?


No, of course they didn't. They
couldn't know. Raito wasn't ready for anyone else to know. It
wasn't safe.


“Please,” he said, as
teeth scraped his earlobe and a hand stroked his erection. Even he
couldn't have said for sure whether he was asking for them to stop
this or to continue. He hated that he was weak enough to say it. He
writhed uncomfortably, feeling the roughness of the fiber rub
uncomfortably on his ankles. His hands, pinned beneath him, were
rapidly going numb and his arms and shoulders ached. The pain
contrasted sharply with the pleasure in the rest of his body.


Then a mouth closed over him, a tongue
caressing the head of his penis, tonguing the slit on top, while a
hand caressed his balls and the pain receded, overwhelmed, dissolving
in the warmth of his pleasure. He was moaning now, bucking his hips
in his need, although he froze when he felt the first finger inside
him.


Yet even this was gentle, patient.
Raito didn't understand. He didn't know who this was or why they
were doing this and he really didn't
understand why they were being so careful; why they seemed to care
about his pleasure. If this man (and it had to be a man, didn't it?)
wanted to go to bed with him, couldn't he have asked? Tried to
seduce him? Done something other than
this?


It
felt good, but it was humiliating, especially as he knew Ryuk was
still watching. He whimpered again, and moaned, a name, or what
passed for one. “L.” He flushed when he realized what
he had said. Did he want this to be L? In one sense, of course
he did. It was far better than the alternative. But more than that,
did he want
L?


Of
course not. L was his rival, his enemy. He
hated L.
He pretended to friendship, to helpfulness, but he only felt
contempt. He didn't care about anyone; couldn't care about anyone!
Raito wanted to
kill
L, not fuck him! Or be fucked
by
him, which was more relevant at the moment.


Yet
as he felt a hard, oiled cock slide into him, finally felt another
body against his, he wasn't sure anymore. Because this felt
good.
It felt surprisingly wonderful to be out of control, to just
experience and let things happen. He hadn't realized how tense he
had been with the constant burden of both being Kira and hiding it,
fooling everyone. And if he could enjoy this, find helplessness a
relief, contrary to all his expectations, then maybe, somewhere
inside, desire had become mixed with his hatred for L?


Whoever
this was, they were skinny, bony. Raito was even more sure this had
to be Ryuga, although he had no idea why he would do this. He also
seemed to unexpectedly know what he was doing, where and how to
thrust to make him moan. This was beyond good; it was
incredible.
He stopped questioning, stopped thinking, and lost himself in trying
to thrust back at the man on top of him.


A hand on his cock
again, squeezing and stroking in just the right way, and he knew he
was going to come soon. He didn't even try to resist it. White-hot
waves of pleasure sparked through him and he shuddered with the force
of his orgasm, not even surprised anymore that the name he cried out
at that most unguarded of moments was L.


Raito
was still breathing hard, stifling aftershocks and trying to think
again when he felt Ryuga (and he refused to consider that it wasn't
him) get off the bed. Noise and water running in the bathroom, then
he felt a warm wet washcloth followed by a dry towel, cleaning him
off gently. He still didn't understand why he was being treated as a
lover after the way he had been taken by surprise and subdued by
force. But he felt a strange sort of trust now and he didn't even
try to resist when his ankles were freed and washed, too, the hand
and cloth on the raw skin gentle, almost apologetic.


L dressed him
again, straightened his clothes, and turned him onto his side. Raito
felt sleepy, relaxed, despite the pain of blood returning to his
still-restrained hands. Then a harsh whisper in his ear, harsh
enough to render the voice unrecognizable, made his eyes open wide
while his body stiffened in shock.


“Did
you enjoy that...
Kira?”
the voice asked. He tried to sit up, to kick, suddenly afraid again,
but his flailing hit nothing. He heard the door into the hall open
and close and he knew it was too late. L or whoever it had been was
gone.


Raito was left
alone in a dark hotel room, blindfolded and handcuffed, for what
seemed like hours. He kept remembering what had happened, turning it
over and over again in his mind, but he couldn't come to any
decisions. At one moment he was certain it had been L and he was
furious; the next he was sure it hadn't been and he was afraid of
this unknown enemy.


“Ryuk, who
was it?” he asked, but the Shinigami only laughed and refused
to tell.




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