Liquor Makes Me Like You

BY : Robin
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 987
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.

AN: I never thought I’d find myself writing a Death Note fic. Ever. But, Death Note is my good buddy’s favorite, and it’s her birthday next month. So happy early birthday, you brat! Hope you enjoy this fun, pointless little romp.

Characters: Not mine, of course—they belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata, among others.

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It had seemed like a clever plan at the time, for both parties involved.

For Raito, a.k.a. Kira, it had seemed like a good idea to offer to share drinks with Ryuzaki, get him inebriated and friendly, and win himself into the detective’s good graces. For L, a.k.a. Ryuzaki, it had seemed like a good idea to pretend to be drunk, lure Raito into a state of actual inebriation, and extract a confession of Kira-ism from him.

Events did not unfold as either man intended.

When the wine coolers ran out, they switched to margarita mix. When the margaritas ran out, they switched to daiquiris. And when the daiquiris ran out, so did the two young men—out of the building, in the direction of the nearest bar. This was made rather difficult by the long-chained pair of handcuffs that bound them together, but where there was a will there was a way.

Several hours later, late into the night, the two began to wend their rambling way home. Both were in quite the good mood, staggering up the empty sidewalk with the chain pulled tight between them.

“Ryuzaki!” Light laughed, pulling on his end of the handcuffs. “Lean this way!”

The detective obliged, pulling in the opposite direction as his companion so that the two could spin counterclockwise up the walk, leaning backwards and letting the chain balance their weight between them. How the two drunks managed to stay on their feet during this maneuver, neither the occasional passersby nor the invisible, confused god of death silently following their every move knew.

L had a mellow smile pasted in place as they twirled, apparently content with life in general. “How fun, Raito-kun. Shall we go around the lamp post next?”

It proved to be a poor suggestion. As Raito enthusiastically swung around the post, the chain snapped taunt and his momentum threw the paler man into a stumble. With a loud thump, L’s face connected with the glass windowed front of one the stores that lined the street.

“Ouch…”

“Are you alright?” Raito, looking the least bit guilty, came over to check. Luckily he remembered to backtrack around the post first. “Is there blood?”

L ignored the query, intently studying the letters on the window he had just been introduced to at high velocity. “Look, Raito-kun. What an interesting shop.”

Shinigami Body Piercing & Tattoo, read the sign.

Raito barely hesitated. “Come on, Ryuzaki. We’re going in.”

“We are? Whatever for?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to?”

“I don’t believe so…”

“Well, I do want to.” Without preamble the brunette shoved open the door and resolutely began to drag his companion into the depths of the establishment, whether he would enter or not. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about doing for a while…”

- // - // - // - // -


“Raito-kun, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Perched on a swiveling stool padded with blood red velvet, knees drawn up to pale chin and chewing absently on a fingernail as was his habit, the detective watched with wide-eyed fascination as the younger man selected the ornament that would be his very first piercing. The handcuff chain swung gently to and fro between them.

“Of course I’m sure. I hear girls love these things.” At last making his selection, Raito waved over one of the unoccupied staff. “Alright, miss, I found one! I’m all ready!”

The woman who came over to assist him was dressed all in black, her pixie cut dyed bright purple. She looked at the odd young men before her, considered the lateness of the hour and the strong smell of alcohol permeating the air around them, and cut right to the chase. “You’re drunk, aren’t you.”

“I might be…”

“Then sign this waiver, sit in the chair, and unzip your pants.”

“See, Ryuzaki?” It was with considerable smugness that Raito followed the directions. “A girl is getting into my pants already.”

L merely glanced at him, then affixed his attention to the tray of wicked-looking instruments the woman had brought over. In particular, he observed the rather large needle she was in the process of sterilizing. His eyes widened beyond what would normally be considered possible by human standards, and he muttered softly to himself.

“Chances that this is going to hurt like fucking hell… one hundred percent.”

Raito unbuttoned himself, looking down with much interest as the woman snapped on a pair of latex gloves and went to work. “Come now, Ryuzaki, I’m sure it can’t be all that ba—AAAAAAAAAAHHH OH DEAR CHRIST!!!”

The startled detective promptly tipped sideways off of his stool, still holding his hunched position, and upset the rolling stand that held the tray. Piercing apparatus, rings, and studs of all sorts scattered across the floor as he looked innocently up at his companion, who was, incidentally, still screaming bloody murder.

“Raito-kun appears to be in pain. I told him so.”

Somewhere in the background, unheard, a god of death was laughing itself silly.

- // - // - // - // -


“Oww, my head… Get off me, Ryuzaki!”

Morning was not kind to the two adventurous young men. Raito unceremoniously shoved L away from himself, not batting an eye when the rumpled detective fell off the sofa they had been peacefully cohabitating and hit the floor with a thud.

“That was not a very nice way to say good morning.” Without lifting his face from the carpet, L spoke in his usual soft tones. “Raito-kun does not feel well?”

“Something tells me I did something last night I shouldn’t have…” Gingerly the brunette began to explore one of several of the sources of pain he felt; namely, the one inside his trousers. “Oh that hurts…! It’s a wonder I didn’t piss myself when they did that! Wait… What if I did piss myself?! I don’t remember!”

“Ah, I see.” L smiled. “Raito-kun was not referring to the head on his shoulders.”

Disregarding the icy glare that clearly told him to eat shit and go die in a hole, L finally turned his attention to his own person and hesitantly pulled up his shirt. “Oh, goodness, no wonder those are sore. It appears I might have something to regret as well…”

Before he could elaborate, they were interrupted.

“Good morning, young sirs.” With a polite knock at the door Watari bustled in, a platter loaded down with tea and sugar cubes in tow. “Up and about at last, are you? I must say, you gave us quite a fright disappearing into the night without warning. I do hope you passed the evening well before returning. Now, where would you like the tea to be served?”

For the first time, L turned to face his butler, shirt still upraised. “Thank you, Watari. Just sit it down anywhere you like.”

To Watari’s credit, he did not drop the tea. “Good heavens! R-ryuzaki-san, what have you done to yourself?!”

Puzzled, the detective glanced first at his butler and then down to the tiny silver rings now decorating his chest. “You don’t like my nipple rings…?”

“We must get those off at once!” Hurriedly placing the platter on a small table, Watari nearly ran for the door. “The holes mustn’t become permanent—just a moment while I fetch the gauze and peroxide!”

When the door had slammed and quick footsteps had retreated down the corridor, L looked back to Raito. “I actually think they’re quite fetching. What are you doing now, Raito-kun?”

The disgruntled brunette, pants half down, had the decency to flush. “There is… there is also something wrong with my… oh, damn it Ryuzaki, my ass hurts!”

An ebony brow quirked. “Does Raito-kun remember doing anything last night that would have been detrimental to his posterior?”

“No!”

“Let me see.”

After a moment’s protest and stalled shuffling, L calmly beheld the cause of his companion’s distress. He blinked owlishly. “Congratulations, Raito-kun. You have a tattoo.”

“A tattoo? Really?” Raito craned his neck in vain, trying to catch a glimpse of his left cheek. “I can't believe I got one of those, too... What does it look like?”

A long and suspenseful pause descended before the detective announced it somewhat mischievously. “It appears to be an apple, Raito-kun.”

The brunette froze. “An apple…? Uh, I, um—damn it! I remember now, I asked for a strawberry, not an apple! Those incompetent fools, I’ll sue!”

“Oh, of course. They should indeed compensate you for their mistake.” The paler man nodded benignly. “Now, could Raito-kun kindly look at my back as well? I believe I might have run into something while under the influence… there is a distinct pain from right near the middle.”

“Alright then, turn around.”

The detective did, and obligingly hiked his shirt up once more. Raito looked at the area for a long while.

“What is it?”

After a few more moments, Raito shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing, Ryuzaki. Just a scrape. You really must have backed into something last night. Come on, let’s forget about it and have some tea.”

“Yes, let’s. Thank you, Raito-kun, you are too kind.”

“Think nothing of it.” Raito smiled. The handcuff chain jangled brightly. As a gesture of goodwill, he even patted the detective’s back… right over the place where the Old English L was tattooed, along with a pink heart and Raito’s own name. “One lump, or ten?”

- // - // - // - // -

The End

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(2nd)AN: Oh, dear. Now the question is, was L actually clueless about the tattoo, or did he really know about it and just want Raito to see it? There are a hundred ways these two could be mentally baiting each other. You decide what their motives were ;)


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