L x Light

BY : Genevieve
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 5254
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.


You win, Light’s smile, serene and cordial, seems to say, but
be sure this is really what you want

And Mello will win, and it’s only a matter of time before he
is the first of them to speak with the shinigami, but for the time being,
he isn’t guided by reason alone.

It isn’t important that L will see this; it isn’t important that Near
and everyone else will see this, as well; Mello knows what he’s doing and
this is the way he does things.

But it is nevertheless entirely by choice that Light allows it, and
one might feel compelled to think that Light knows neither affection nor
real physical drive but only strategy if not for the unmistakable passion
all-consuming to possess and conquer.

Mello shows him neither the careful gentleness that L showed Light nor
the honest surrender that Mello had shown L, himself, in every gesture
and every regard; instead, he takes him cruelly, with tormented deliberation
and burning jealousy and threats, until for a very brief moment, Light
actually begins to wonder if he has at all underestimated his rival. No,
he laughs internally, this was to be expected.

He even pretends to be astonished, defeated, afraid, long eyelashes
flickering shut against the clavicular ridge protruding under deceptively
soft skin, expiration desperate and moist against the rhythmic fall of
yellow hair, and please don’t and please stop and it hurts,
and then, like the vicious swing of an invisible iron mace,


Oh, now he’s done it.

L is seldom mistaken, and L was not mistaken when he chose both Near
and Mello to work with and after him. What follows is neither reprimand
nor surprise, but only curious amusement and even the suggestive hint of
a smile as he gazes at the two from across the room.

In just seconds Mello has a gun trained against Light, jaws clenched
and eyes squinting, left hand tightly pressed to his neck.

You’re a lying little bastard, Kira, Mello hisses, and I can
see through this just as well as he can

“Please,” Light squints, fingers clawing at the palm pressed hard to
his neck, “please let go.”

And ultimately Mello does, because, after all, they do need him, and
with an impressive display of inner strength, he releases Light and allows
him to return to bed.

Let this be a warning to you, Kira, and foreshadowing of things far
worse still to come.

He is deep in thought as he walks back to his own bedroom, clothes wrinkled
and hair disheveled, and stops before he reaches the entrance because L
calls to him.

He looks up from behind rogue strands of hair, no longer glowing with
fury but nevertheless shaken still, and he says nothing when the slender
digits of L’s hand travel through those strands to smooth them, and then
warm dark eyes inspect him slowly, and at last the fire quiets and the
rage grows dim.

“Does Mello want to stay with me tonight?”

And, like so many years ago, they travel down the hallway together,
Mello’s hand twined around the bony length of L’s index finger.


“I see Mello has found a gun,” comes L’s quiet voice, low and calm against
the sheet beneath.

“He knows where it is. I’m sure of it.”

L nods quietly.

“I think you’re right. But he didn’t know all along.”

“I—I understand.” And then, after a moment of thought, Mello’s eyes
go big. “He’s afraid of nothing. He doesn’t tell anything.”

“I think you might be right about this too, Mello-kun. He’s going after
this with complete detachment from his own feelings.”

“You’re wrong. These are his feelings. This is satisfaction.”

“I wonder to what extent that’s true.”

“He may have saved your life,” Mello’s voice rings at last with irritation,
“but this isn’t simply about—“

“Yes,” an exhalation ghosting against the folded knuckles of L’s white
hand, “not simply about my drive to win or his drive to win—or about friendship.”

And then with a little smile, he adds, “Mello says this, but this isn’t
what Mello believes.”


“Would you say you pursue this case driven first and foremost by a sense
of justice?”

He got me.

Of course he got me.

L doesn’t wait for his reply. “Perhaps we are all driven at least in
part by a personal sense of competition.”

“L,” Mello’s voice is strained and almost inaudible, “I don’t think
there’s any friendship there.”

“Perhaps not. But perhaps what’s at play, instead, is incredible self-control.”

Defeated, Mello curls in anger, straining very hard not to show his
temper and jealousy to L, who sees them anyway.

He tilts Mello’s chin up with a gentle finger and inspects his face
in the dark.

“Where did you put the gun, Mello-kun?”

“S…sorry,” the boy mumbles with awkward hesitation, and then, lifting
the blanket back, he pulls it away from the hook at his belt. He hands
it to L carefully, and the older boy takes it and inspects it slowly, then
reaches for a drawer at the dresser beside the bed.

“You know that there are cameras in every room.”

Mello nods. “It wasn’t supposed to be a secret.”

L thinks about this. It seems that Mello does know how to handle a weapon,
and the position does, after all, involve danger and the need for protection.

Perhaps it isn’t a bad idea for him to have a weapon of his own; L had
chosen him because he trusts his judgment.

When he returns to bed, he sees Mello curled away, blonde locks falling
softly over the delicate lines of his shoulders and narrow back, and he
is all suppressed anger and humiliation, looking away deliberately to hold
back from lashing out again.

Very slowly, L leans closer and presses his lips to the tremulous skin
just behind his ear.

“Please try to get some sleep; we’ve been up very late and we need to
be alert tomorrow.”

But Mello spends the rest of the night frozen rigid, eyes fully open
and staring out into the dark room without daring to turn around.


To be continued...




** Author's note:
I don't usually leave notes because I think you came here to read the story, not listen to me yak, but I like to think this one is for the readers' benefit. As you may know, there's a very dirty and hot Death Note yaoi doujin game called Bound Prince(LxLight). As of yet it is only available in Japanese but some friends have been helping me with an unofficial translation, and what we have so far is here http://www.tegmentum.net/dnbpt1.html My goal is to eventually have the entire game translated, including all the very dirty images.


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