Shades of Mystification

BY : Hellagoddess
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 20577
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.

This chapter is BY FAR the largest you will probably ever get in this story. It’s over 4200 words by itself. I really should have cut it in half – but I just couldn’t bring myself to be so mean to you all. Consider it a gift of my appreciation for everyone who’s stuck with me this far! Enjoy it! And remember I’ll be skipping the update next week to catch up on the next few chapters.

Chapter Fourteen

It was the most un-romantic scenario Raito could have imagined.

It didn’t help that his legs practically shook with each step as, hand clasped with his, L calmly shuffled in front of him, leading him. He clenched his teeth, straightening up, squaring his shoulders as he followed. He wouldn’t let his lack of proficiency get the best of him, despite the fact that every instinct he had was telling him he was way in over his head.

L walked into the bedroom and, with the absence of a door to shut, he merely turned his back to Raito and slid his shirt up over his head. Raito blinked a few times and didn’t know whether he was supposed to look or not. Was the etiquette different with a man? Would it be okay to ogle him?

Raito stared a bit at all the pale flesh being uncovered so nonchalantly and suddenly realized the artist was starting on his pants. Looking away, he quickly toed off his shoes and socks before slipping his belt through its loops. L was down to his boxers a lot quicker than Raito, having only two items to remove and the gallery owner was glad to see they weren’t going to get completely naked straight off the bat. He was tense and uncertain enough as it was.

L walked over, past Raito who was losing a fight with the buttons on his shirt and stepped up onto the low bed. He crouched there by the pillows, completely still, watching the brunette shamelessly. Raito resisted the urge to turn away and instead shucked his shirt with as much unconcern as he could muster, folding it neatly and placing it on a chair with the rest of his items. He crossed his arms across his chest self-consciously, and stood for a second in his own boxer briefs, not meeting the artist’s gaze. Noting one of his shoes was slightly out of line, he pushed it with his foot so it lined up perfectly with the other.

“Raito-kun should be less fretful about his footwear positioning and more concerned about his state of near-undress.” L murmured flatly from the bed, giving Raito a contemplative look. He nodded, half to himself and stepped towards the bed, sitting on the end of it, some space away from the artist.

This wasn’t at all how he’d imagined it. When the artist had suggested it, Raito’s first impulse had been to say no. He wasn’t easy or going to jump into bed with the first thing to offer. If he’d been like that he probably would have slept with half the town already. But he knew that if he left, the curiosity would plague him for weeks afterwards. Looking ahead, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he’d lose weight, his schedule would get all mucked up and he’d probably end up storming into work and firing his staff out of sheer frustration. He hated that the other man had this knowledge over him. And it was going to happen one day anyway. May as well get it over with. Maybe this way the man wouldn’t scramble his thoughts so much.

So he’d hesitantly agreed, following the artist to his bedroom. He’d had some notion in his head that they’d kiss a lot and get wound up and something would just happen. None of this planning.

But it was L. And when L cared about something, like his painting, and now apparently Raito, he was all about making sure everything was covered and right and structured and…

“…ty-seven percent.” L was muttering under his breath, thumb hovering near his mouth as he eyed Raito deliberately at the end of the bed. He suddenly felt a bit like a suspect under examination, the artist’s appraising gaze raking down his half-naked frame.

“Huh?” Raito was too nervous to think of an apt question to ask. Why L was bringing percentages into this whole situation wasn’t something he was sure he wanted to know.

“Nothing of consequence. I was merely considering an option…against another.”

Raito nodded and looked away, swallowing. He could do this. He just needed to regain the upper hand and everything would be fine.

“Raito-kun should kiss me now.”

His head whipped back to the artist, but L was still crouched there, unblinking and blank, though the hand had dropped from near his mouth to rest on his knee. He didn’t even look remotely excited by the prospect.

‘God, he couldn’t make it easier by kissing me first couldn’t he? Why the hell do I have to do it first?’ Raito resisted the urge to squirm or look uncomfortable. He should appear confident at all times a book once told him, the advice had been good but, edging anxiously towards the artist, Raito wondered if the author of the volume had ever been in a similar situation.

He leaned forward, wondering how to get around the obstacle of the man’s knees between them, before L abruptly parted them and Raito fell forward, his face smushing up against L’s firm chest. His pride injured at the clumsy move, Raito raised his head, ready to shout at the man for embarrassing him, when L leant down, captured his chin with the tips of his fingers and kissed him.

Thoughts of anger roiled hopelessly against his arousal before disappearing completely as L pulled him further forward, settling the gallery owner between his thighs and kissing him breathless.

Raito made a surprised gurgling noise in the back of his throat when L’s hands, with no preamble whatsoever, slid down his back, cupped over his ass and gripped, firmly pressing him against his groin.

Raito broke the kiss and sucked in air, suddenly losing all the hard-won oxygen as L rolled them both over so he was straddling the brunette. He leant down and kissed Raito again, his dexterous fingers beginning to explore the gallery owner’s body in languorous, lingering caresses.

Raito wanted to move, he wanted to reach up, stroke L’s pale chest with his fingertips; explore the man’s shoulders, his back, with the sensitive palms of his hands. He wanted to regain control of the situation, but couldn’t. For something that he’d seemed to want for such a long time now, he was sure having a hard time taking it when it was offered. What would that make him, if he gave in?

L was too different, his body was sharp angles, skin rougher than he was used to. The desire was there but the unknown was a barrier he couldn’t seem to get past. So he lay there, stiff and unmoving, wanting to participate but scared of what it would mean if he did. Even with all the talking and decision-making, life long denial was a hard thing to overcome.

L seemed to know this and without missing a beat, slid his hand over Raito’s, lifting it. His breath ghosted warmly across Raito’s collarbone as he laid a slow, languid trail of kisses up towards his ear. At the same time he brought Raito’s hand down between them and pressed it against the thick bulge in his underwear.

“Touch me, Raito-kun.” He breathed huskily.

Well that was certainly jumping a bit further forward than he’d anticipated.

Raito had frozen, his hand remaining still when L’s left, until the artist shifted against his grip and exhaled sharply, eyelids fluttering over too-lucid obsidian. The noise and the look on the man’s face gave Raito more confidence and his fingertips began to cautiously assess L’s erection through the cotton of his boxers. He’d become so used to the artist’s stoic, impassive exterior that the idea that there was a whole different man under there that he hadn’t seen yet excited him.

The artist tensed up as Raito ran his fingertips lightly over him. The gallery owner was aware of L’s gaze watching him curiously as he touched and stroked him, giving the boxers a tug and setting him free.

Raito boldly encircled the artist with his fingers, thinking how it couldn’t be much different to himself, before gently caressing him. L’s arm gave out slightly and he caught himself to avoid falling onto the brunette beneath him. His breathing quickened, fascinating Raito with it’s sudden pace. His chocolate eyes were still locked on L’s and the artist opened his mouth to say something, becoming abruptly silent when he stroked him again, and a third time, and a fourth.

Raito wanted to see. He wanted to watch as L lost control, broke that expressionless mask he constantly wore. He forgot his own nervousness, his own uncomfortable lack of knowledge and just watched as L’s brow furrowed slightly and his lips parted, eyes becoming slightly hazy. His chest rose faster and his hips shifted against Raito’s grip on him.

Then L was kissing him again, and even though the gallery owner couldn’t see him anymore, this was still just as nice. L’s tongue coaxed his own out and Raito shifted his grip slightly, becoming relaxed with the intimate gesture. L stiffened slightly and then groaned into his mouth at the eager, curious contact, renewing the kiss with more fervor, his hands running up Raito’s sides.

‘So this is what it’s like? To touch another man?’

Raito didn’t know what he’d been so scared of. It was different, but not so much to warrant the frightened feeling he’d had before. Not that he’d been frightened anyway, just a bit…startled. Or something like that. Very masculine fear. Petrified but in a manly way. Yep.

He quickened the pace of his hand, feeling L’s breath stutter in his chest and suddenly felt very powerful. He was causing this reaction, just him and no one else. It was him that L was responding to and that made him arch his hips against the artist’s, gaining some of the friction against his own clothed erection. They moaned in tandem and Raito broke the kiss, immediately embarrassed for making such a noise. It was hot when L did it, but it was too weak and too much of a break in composure for him. L seemed to know what he was thinking because his head dipped down and he latched onto Raito’s collarbone with passion, sliding his legs down either side of the brunette and parting Raito’s knees with his hands.

Raito hesitantly opened his legs, hand faltering as the artist nestled his own hips there. Raito had a fleeting surprised thought of how well they fit together before L’s hand was wrapping around his own and resuming his pace. L was kissing his chest and while it felt nice, Raito thought that it was pointless. He didn’t have breasts, so what was the fascination?

He made a strangled noise when L latched onto a nipple, sucking furiously, fingertips twisting the other gently. Raito’s hand stopped moving completely and L didn’t seem to mind anymore when it fell to the side to grip the blankets. L sucked again, scraped with his teeth, and Raito felt his groin throb at the stimulation, lifting his hips against the artist’s, to feel that brush of their most intimate selves again.

L pressed down against his movement and Raito’s hand suddenly found itself wound through black strands. The artist’s head ducked down further, stabbing his tongue into the slight dip of Raito’s bellybutton, his blunt, paint-flecked nails raising faint marks as he scratched down his sides deliciously.

Raito took his hand away from L’s head, knowing that girls hated to be forced down there, even as his hips raised slightly again in a silent plea.

All movement had stopped and Raito gazed down the line of his body to see L’s lips pressed to his hipbone, just above the line of his underwear, watching him. Raito wet his lips and L’s tongue snaked out of his mouth, drawing a slow, ticklish trail across from one hip to the other, tongue occasionally dipping under the material.

Raito whined in the back of his throat, hating the needy sound but hating the teasing more.

He choked back a groan when L’s hand, without preamble, slid against his erection and the artist mouthed him through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His hands fisted into the pillow and his legs parted further automatically. He would have been embarrassed about how wanton he seemed if he hadn’t been so turned on.

L nuzzled his face next to his erection and paused briefly. Raito realized with horror that he was smelling him and flushed deeply, mortified. He was about to open his mouth to tell him to stop when L’s hands slid down the inside of his thighs, pushing them up as he slithered further down.

“Guh!” Was all the gallery owner managed as L’s pressed his lips to his balls, opening his mouth and gently sucking on one through the material, pressing his face against him. Raito’s head swam dizzily and he dropped back onto the pillow. He’d never felt like this. Not with any of the women he’d been with in his whole life. His erection was so hard it hurt.

Then L’s mouth was gone and he was hooking his thin fingers into the top of Raito’s boxer briefs. He paused for a couple of seconds for what they both knew was an out. If Raito was really having second thoughts, here was his chance to stop them going further.

Clawing back to coherency, he just lifted his hips slightly in response, smiling in return as the artist’s face lit up. Which, because it was L, consisted of a slight widening of the eyes and a faint tilt to the mouth that made it seem like he was almost smiling. L stripped his underwear off in one smooth movement and dropped them on the floor. It was a sign of how far gone Raito was that he didn’t immediately think to rise and fold them, placing them on the chair. He considered it a few seconds later but then L’s tongue was on his aching bare flesh, his warm palm cupping Raito’s balls, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Raito didn’t know when he’d started it but with every exhalation he seemed to be making a noise. As much as he tried to stop it, with the next breath his mouth would open and a soft, high, breathy ‘ahh’ sound would come out. With every dip of L’s head he fought against it, knowing, with his legs spread wide, flushed and panting, that making a noise seemed the least of his problems. But just as he was almost about to master this L did something magical with his tongue and sucked forcefully and the noise that left Raito couldn’t be mistaken for anything else other than a moan.

He felt more than heard L let out a sound of amusement, before the artist’s mouth suddenly left his erection with a wet noise. Raito couldn’t help the sound of disappointment that escaped him. His mouth snapped shut immediately afterwards but he’d still made it regardless. He had closed his eyes and opened them when he felt the bed shift. L had slid his own boxers off and was now leaning over the edge of the bed, a hand searching on the floor.

Raito’s head tilted to the side slightly, watching the artist. While he was now without underwear, from the angle he was sitting at Raito couldn’t actually see anything, but he took the time to take in the man as a whole.

The gallery owner was fascinated. He’d never met anyone quite like L, not even remotely close. Even physically he was different. Despite the fact that he had awful posture, Raito concluded that they were the same height, L might have even been slightly taller. Long, fair limbs bordering on gangly seemed graceful on him. His pale, smooth skin didn’t have a flaw on it, not a callus, not a mark or freckle. Granted he hadn’t seen every inch of it yet but hopefully that would be something he’d rectify in the future.

He gave a small start at that thought. Sure he’d said he’d give it a go, but to be thinking about future encounters with L, with his new…boyfriend was disconcerting, even as it was exciting. Raito squirmed a little at that title. Boyfriend. It’s seemed so…teenage. Perhaps lover was better. But this wasn’t supposed to be a permanent thing, was it? He was just finding out, wasn’t he?

He was broken from his thoughts as L surfaced from the side of the bed, muttering something about bedside tables. Raito ignored him, his gaze uneasily fixed on the tube he held in his hand between forefinger and thumb.

Raito had never owned a tube of lube before, but he’d have to be very sheltered not to know what one looked like. He’d bought condoms in his life and the tubes sat right next to them. And here he was, about to have his first encounter with the substance.

“Raito-kun has nothing to fret about.”

The brunette lifted his eyes to L’s, noting the small indulgent smile. He tried to smile back but didn’t seem to quite make it. The click of the lid snapping open made him jump a bit and he tensed up as L tipped some out onto his hand.

L closed the cap and set it aside before shuffling further up the bed between his legs. Raito squirmed and resisted the urge to back away, knowing it would look unmanly. He didn’t want to show just how alarming the whole situation had suddenly become. He had a vague idea of what would happen and even though logic told him it must work somehow, else men wouldn’t do it, logic also told him that that…thing there didn’t - wouldn’t- fit.

L must have known he was nervous. Even someone as socially inept as him would have seen the poorly hidden anxiety on his face.

“I won’t hurt you, Raito-kun.”

He swallowed and gave a quick nod, wanting to just get on with it so this trepidation in the pit of his stomach would go away.

“In fact, it will be quite the opposite.”

Now there was an intriguing sentence. Raito had thought that sure, there must be something in it for both parties, else it would never happen, but he just couldn’t imagine what would be pleasant about it. Still, as L’s hand slid over his hip and down past his balls, he couldn’t help but be apprehensive. He tensed up as L’s finger slid down further, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

They shot open and he made another embarrassing noise, when instead of the agony he’s expected, he felt L’s mouth against his flagging erection. Now this was far nicer. The threat was still there, in L’s cautiously circling finger but L’s tongue was enough of a distraction that he didn’t even really feel the first push.

Raito felt himself unwinding, relaxing slowly as L continued. The imagined threat of sudden, excruciating pain was gone and while the sensation was unusual, it wasn’t completely unpleasant. L added another finger while he did another magical thing with his tongue and Raito barely felt it till he was gently thrusting them both together. The brunette bit his lip and breathed deeply through his nose. Was this how women felt? They always seemed to be enjoying it so much so surely this would get better soon. Raito frowned, not liking the idea that he was thinking of himself as the ‘woman’. He suddenly felt an irrational urge to push L away, to demand they did it the other way. But it dissipated just as fast as it had arrived, when L added another finger and Raito had far more to consider than his pride.

L’s fingers pressed inside of him, shifting against one another and creating the oddest sensation. He pushed further, deeper, till Raito felt a spark of pain and clenched his teeth. He was about to voice his fears when a surprised noise left him.

His stomach had jumped a bit and he automatically pushed back on the digits, convinced that what he’d felt had been in his imagination. But L’s fingertips brushed over something inside of him again and that same wavering pleasure made itself known. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d anticipated.

Raito hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes till he heard the crinkle of plastic. For one long, drawn-out, incredulous moment he’d thought that L was opening a packet of sweets to eat while they…while they…

But when he opened his eyes, L had just ripped open a small square foil packet with his teeth and was apply the contents to himself one-handed, with a look of concentration on his face.

Oh! That was something Raito hadn’t even considered. For a second he was incredibly grateful for the artist’s foresight, until another brush over that place inside him distracted Raito from any seriously logical contemplation.

Then the artist’s thin fingers were gone and he was pressing Raito’s knees up.

“I will be gentle.” L murmured, his own rapidly rising chest giving away his excitement, though his face remained the same as it always had. He might have been watching a boring cricket match for all the excitement his expression showed.

“Don’t.” The word was out of Raito’s mouth before he’d even thought about it. L paused and gave him a inquiring look. “I’m not a woman, don’t treat me like one.” ‘I’m still a man.’

L smiled then, down at him, hands wrapped around each of his thighs. “I was under no illusions that you were, Raito-kun.”

And then he was pressing forward.

Raito choked on his own breath, hearing the sound rise in his throat and powerless to stop it. Such an overwhelming sensation, so personal and intrusive. He was breathing in sobbing gasps, dizzy with the feeling of it before L captured his lips and distracted him. The pain was there but the intimate feeling washed it away.

Then L was pulling out slightly, to press back in, his hand wrapping around Raito’s erection. Ah, that was better. Something to counteract the bizarre, but somewhat likable sensation inside of him. Raito squirmed a bit at another unhurried thrust, the hand on his length moving at an equally agonizing pace. Too slow. Didn’t people have sex faster than this?

“L. Move.” Pressing upward, invitingly, Raito let the artist know exactly what he wanted. There had to be more to it. L sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and kept up his leisurely movement, watching him. Raito was furious at being ignored and, eyes flaming, made an internal movement, clenching and flexing the muscles wrapped tightly around L’s arousal. The artist made a low sound, eyes closing and Raito’s flared wide in delight. There was control to be had here, he only had to figure out the right way to get it. He did it again, liking the fact that L’s hips automatically increased in pace and his white teeth bit down on the lip he’d been sucking.

“Raito-kun should not…not do such a thing unless he wants this encounter to be…a lot shorter than planned.” L gasped out, hips beginning to smack against Raito’s, but the gallery owner was forcing him on, shifting to meet each movement, clenching his body rhythmically, demanding that L do more, that he pay attention to him, to what he wanted.

Raito saw the moment his control broke. Eyes flaring, the artist clenched his teeth and gave a hoarse moan. His fingers tightened on the back of Raito’s knee and he rocked both of them with a hard slam that bowed Raito’s body up off the bed, then another…and another. Raito’s eyes were wide, breath stuttering in his lungs as he fought for air in the suddenly humid room. His fingers gripped L’s shoulders in a bruising clench as the artist leaned down, smashing their lips together. His hand fisted Raito faster and faster till the brunette was seeing white spots, his toes curling, body tensing.

He was drowning, sinking and being uplifted at the same time. Raito broke the kiss wetly and groaned. He wanted it to last but the feeling welled up, fierce heat rushing up his legs and down his spine and, shuddering he spilled over L’s fist; mouthing the artist’s shoulder as L thrust forcefully for several seconds more before his body jerked and he cried out wordlessly.

L collapsed on him, and they lay, slick with sweat and everything else that went along with it, panting and trying to regain their equilibrium.

After a time, L rolled to the side and Raito winced slightly at the sudden departure. The artist shuffled to the bathroom and returned quickly, sliding back into bed. He lay on his back and squirmed an arm under Raito’s neck, pulling the gallery owner towards him.

Raito resisted the cuddling. Men didn’t cuddle and despite what had just happened he was still a man. But the artist wasn’t taking no for an answer and rather than have some nasty bruises to explain or asphyxiate to death, Raito grudgingly leaned into the embrace, resting his head reluctantly against L’s chest. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he stuffed them between them, ignoring the fact that they’d soon go numb.

Suddenly, something occurred to him. If L had painted him so feverishly from just their first meeting… He didn’t want to think about what would happen this time.

“Please don’t do that again.”

The artist tensed up and Raito realized that L wouldn’t know what he was talking about, that he could be referring to what had just happened.

“Do what exactly, Raito-kun?”

“Make me the subject of your paintings. Don’t paint me again unless I say it’s okay.” Raito clarified.

L relaxed and Raito tilted his head up off his chest to look at him. L’s eyes were back to that flat obsidian where Raito couldn’t read their depths. Suddenly he looked down, stroking a hand through Raito’s hair.

“It’s about inspiration. I can only paint what comes to me Raito-kun.” L stroked his head again. “And you come to me very much.”

Raito still felt irritated and spoiling for an argument until L leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“But I’ll try.”


If you have been reading along and haven’t reviewed yet – I would really appreciate it, especially after this chapter. Personally, I really didn’t like it. I’ve had so much trouble with this chapter that I’m so sick of reading it and adjusting and changing. I hope you all enjoyed it though! And just so you know – the story is FAR from over. We haven’t even really touched on much of the actual PLOT yet!

A big, massive, super-special-awesome-ultra-rare-super thank you to everyone who’s stayed with it so far and reviewed and rated and chased me across the internet to other sites (you guys know who you are :P ), you’re all wonderful!

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