BY : Moony
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 1266
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.

L isn't sure why he can't stop himself. He knows it's wrong. He knows he shouldn't. But repeating to himself that he knows better doesn't really mean anything.

It's dark. It's always dark. It has to be dark. But he knows Mello won't be asleep. Mello knows he's coming. He's probably breathing as quietly as possible so he can hear footsteps. L tries to be silent anyway.

Not that it matters. Nothing would happen to him. But he tries to avoid getting caught.

He opens Mello's door and slinks in. It snaps shut behind him. He can hear Mello shifting under the covers. His eyes are already adjusted to the dark, and so as he comes to Mello, he sees the crucifix nailed above his bed.

L hates that crucifix.

He pushes it out of his mind. Mello's pulled back his sheets and he's reaching out to him, and L couldn't stay away if he'd wanted to. Mello isn't wearing anything. L's pretty sure it's mostly for the symbolic value, to show it's all right—that he belongs to L and is willingly giving himself.

But it's probably also because Mello knows he's unbearably attractive and wants to show it off. It's for reasons like this that sometimes, L can almost convince himself that this is all right.

Now Mello's pulling him closer, tugging on the front of his shirt and hooking a foot around L's knee. L willingly buckles and lands on the bed, on Mello, and he's running a
hand up Mello's thigh to feel him shiver and he does, but now L's attention is drawn to the hair on his leg and the fact that it's still relatively thin and soft and that thought really shouldn't be making him harder. But then again, that might just be because Mello has one hand down L's pants and is pulling them off with the other. Or maybe it's because Mello's kissing him in ways that L is certain he didn't even know were possible when he was that age. He's all tongue and teeth and L gets the impression he's trying to consume him.

He feels something hitting his hand. His fogged brain takes a moment to identify the object as some sort of lube--where did Mello even get that?--and it makes him feel better to know that Mello definitely wants this. At the same time, he's disgusted with himself because, if he knew that Mello wasn't enthusiastic about the idea, he doubts he'd care enough to stop. He wants Mello too much. He wants him so much it scares him sometimes. The lack of control. The fact that his happiness relies heavily on this petty, selfish child. The knowledge that he's never been quite as attracted to anyone else but Mello, his self-absorbed, overly-competitive, feminine, spoiled subordinate.

He thinks Mello's a brat, when it comes down to it. He likes him well enough, but he's still a brat. Yet here he is, inhaling sharply because of the cold temperature of
the lube Mello's impatiently smearing on both of them, finding himself mystified by how beautiful Mello is when his face gets flushed like that, when he's breathing heavily because L has one, two, now three fingers inside of him and he looks like he doesn't quite know what to do with himself because he's just so damn turned on.

L doesn't know whether Mello's ready yet, but it really doesn't matter because he can't wait any longer, so he goes ahead with it anyway and kisses Mello to make his whimpering stop. It's overwhelming, the feeling of warmth and pleasure, because it just feels so good--and now Mello's moaning like that, the way he does, saying L's name breathlessly and grabbing onto the sheets to keep himself grounded. L
tosses his head to get the sweaty black fringe out of his eyes, but instead he catches another glimpse of the damn crucifix.

L has never been religious, he's never believed in God, but he can't help but think, with this holy man on a cross in front of him, eyes and mouth open with the unendurable agony of crucifixion, that this feels like sin.

Looking down at him now, smiling with pleasure and holding onto L like he'll die if he doesn't, L can't help but think that this boy is going to be disgustingly promiscuous by the time he's an adult. He's given the mental image of Mello as a prostitute on a street corner in London and he sincerely hopes that, should this vision come to pass, it won't be his fault (though he realizes it probably would be).

This train of thought leads him to think about Mello becoming his successor, and he wonders if Mello's only pretending to comply because he thinks this will beat Near. True, Near would never do this. Near would most likely be horrified by the idea and lock himself in the bathroom for a month. And as he's wondering to himself whether it would be better to be L from a locked bathroom or a street corner, Mello makes a worryingly loud sound and arches his back, and how L's torso is disgusting and he's glad his shirt disappeared at an unknown time though unknown means. For a short while, L's mind comes close to relaxing--the only thing that matters is the relief that he needs so badly—but then it's over, and he's back, and he's sticky now, too.

Mello's biting his own lip and smiling to himself with his eyes closed. L pushes Mello's damp golden hair off of his face, and Mello half-opens his eyes and says something L can't quite hear but thinks is to the effect of “I love you”, so he smiles a little and pushes his mouth against Mello's neck—not quite a kiss, but a sign of vague affection nevertheless.

He tilts his head back to look at the crucifix again, upside-down this time. He wants Mello to take it down. He feels like he's being judged by this tormented wooden replica of a man of dubious existence and it is making him deeply uncomfortable because he knows that it's because he's guilty. But he doesn't tell Mello to get rid of it because somehow, believing in God brings Mello comfort, even though the poor boy must think he's condemned to an eternity in hell. Mello isn't ignorant enough to harbour any delusions of going to heaven. The thought of living with the constant resignation of eternal damnation makes L feel queasy.

So he finds his clothes and he leaves. Mello asks him to please stay because he's incredibly needy and clingy and emotionally unstable, but he's quiet enough that L can pretend to have not heard, so he does.

He knows he'll be back tomorrow night anyway.

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