Role Reversal | By : sashocirrione Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > L/Light Views: 4100 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings. |
CHAPTER 1: Secrets
Light's room was exactly fifteen paces long and ten paces wide. The walls, ceiling and floor were smooth, featureless metal, except for one wall which was extremely thick chimp-proof acrylic glass, on the other side of which resided Light's voice-activated television. There was nothing inside his cell but a bed, a small table, a toilet, a sink, and, during his meals, the food tray and its contents.
The only real contact with anything or anyone outside his room came when L or Watari slid that food tray through a slot in his door, or every three days when Light was led by Watari to a shower that held only the bare essentials and a new change of clothing. It was difficult to live with the status of being defeated and isolated. Light's own former speech to Ryuk often echoed in his mind.
If Kira loses, he's a criminal. But if Kira wins, then he's justice. The winner makes the rules.
Everything, everything had hinged on predicting Rem's actions correctly, and that's where it had all gone wrong. Light had never seriously thought about losing. He'd forced himself not to think that way throughout his plan, because if losing was a real possibility then...
...then everything I've done is for nothing. If there's no utopia, then it was just a series of criminal acts. Focusing on winning as the only outcome had been necessary to keep my will strong, to keep up the courage to...
But people had died as everything unraveled. Higuchi was the first, dying as a result of Rem's panic while L began the interrogation over the headset. In retrospect, it was obvious why. Rem had stupidly recruited Misa to help, and so Higuchi had to be killed quickly, before he might say something that would be highly incriminating for Misa. In Rem's fearful state, she had acted a minute too early and crumbled to dust.
Next, Mogi had died when Light regained his memories in the helicopter, realized Mogi had become the owner of Higuchi's notebook by holding it at the moment of death, and killed Mogi to keep his own memories intact. Chaos and suspicion were far too high after that, but Light had managed to navigate through it all as best as could be expected. The next issue had been a very complex series of problems involving Misa and the fact that L was once again using tails and tracking devices to keep tabs on every move his suspects made.
Solving that issue had involved controlling Wedy, Misa and Aizawa, of course leading to their deaths within twenty-three days, but the plan had gone seriously sour two weeks in, and L had definitively won. Light was still haunted by the way he'd emotionally unraveled at that point, trying to write his own father's name, screaming for the dead to help him, shaking and laughing and crawling on the floor and calling for Ryuk to kill them all.
Ryuk was already gone before then; they'd burned Misa's death note and he'd flown free. If Ryuk had been there, Light wondered if it would have all gone differently, if the monster would have saved him or perhaps even killed him for the arrogance of asking a shinigami to sacrifice its own life.
He didn't want to think of the process of defeat and his breakdown into a gibbering mess. It was so clearly the actions of an insane person, just as L had said at the scene. Despite the dry tone of L's voice, even L had seemed deeply unsettled.
Light closed his eyes and turned over, pressing his face into the mattress as he cursed his active mind. With nothing to do, it kept replaying the events over and over again throughout each day, and each time he went through the sequence, he felt a bit worse about the Kira plan than he had before. He was indignant, terribly indignant that he'd lost, but he was seeing more and more how audacious his plan had really been, how he should have given up when he could have still done so comfortably. It had been insane to continue after becoming the prime suspect.
Insanity... but isn't that what I predicted from the beginning? I knew I would sacrifice my sanity if I killed so many people. I thought of it as a noble sacrifice, but I should have thought of it as a weakness that would lead to my defeat.
And then, afterwards, there had been the utter shock and humiliation at not being executed, but instead being simply taken into L's special custody.
Light had said, "You're... protecting me?"
L had given Light one of the most venomous glares he'd ever seen in his life and said, "I'm not protecting you. I'm protecting the world. If there is one serial killer who deserves to be tortured endlessly by government agencies, Kira would be that killer. I will not hand you over to the authorities because there are already plans by over thirty governments to obtain Kira for weaponization purposes. Kira's secrets must be buried."
Light had understood instantly. He could imagine the rest. Kira's power really was the ultimate power, beyond any other method of mass destruction or warfare, and even if the notebooks were all unobtainable, knowledge of death notes and shinigami should be kept from anyone who might want to abuse that knowledge.
The only thing he didn't understand was why he hadn't been given a quick field execution. Throughout the days of his captivity, he'd never thought it was wise to ask why, to draw attention to his continued life. If asked, might L change his mind on a whim?
Or perhaps L had already decided on an execution and was only waiting to make sure no new developments or sudden deaths occurred, trying to clear up every last loose end first.
Light's hands fisted into the blankets. He didn't want to die. Escape wouldn't be easy, and L had already shown him plenty of evidence of just how many pro-Kira groups had been infiltrated by agents working for governments, organized crime, or other shadowy groups hoping to snatch Kira if he should ever appear again. Escaping and running to Kira supporters would not be an option, but nothing else was a very good option for getting out and staying alive, either.
No, escape wouldn't be easy. It would be impossible, insane.
The worst L could come up with didn't compare to the threat formed by every power-hungry organization in the world just waiting for the chance to torture Kira endlessly, a Kira who might not even have any relevant memories by that time.
Light heard the metallic sliding sound of the food-slot opening and he rolled over, sitting up and trying to look presentable. No food tray came in, though.
Instead, Light heard L's voice, thin and ragged, saying, "There will be a change in your schedule. In your... sleeping arrangements."
Light waited, and when nothing further was said, answered, "Yes?"
"You will be sleeping... ah... in a different bedroom. This new bedroom is also escape-proof. Watari will take you for a shower in fifteen minutes and deliver clean pajamas for you to sleep in."
I get pajamas? And a different bed?
Light opened his mouth to ask a question, but the food-slot slid closed, and there was nothing to do until Watari arrived to take him through what seemed like the normal shower routine, except for the folded blue pajamas sitting out there on the bench.
While Light showered, the possibility occurred to him that perhaps he'd be gassed to death in the new bedroom. Maybe his old cell wasn't suited to gassing, for some reason. The notion settled over him as a tight knot in his stomach and a hyper-aware alertness.
Though he was blindfolded and shackled on the way to the mysterious bedroom, he was almost painfully aware of the feeling and taste of every breath he took, the weight and pressure of his clothing on his skin and the sound it made as he walked, the cold, slick linoleum floor under his feet, the clacking sounds of the metal chains, and the way the handcuffs and ankle cuffs pressed just a bit into his skin as Watari roughly guided him along.
Unseeing all the way, he was guided through several hallways, up a short flight of stairs, and into another room, before being pushed onto a bed, and then he ventured to pull off the blindfold in time to see Watari rearrange the cuffs and chains so that Light had his right wrist and his right ankle connected to the bedposts by long chains. There was enough length for any sleeping position.
As Light looked around, Watari said, "Do not be fooled by the more home-like appearance of this room. It has the same security measures as your own cell."
Just then, a door opened and L stumbled into the room. He looked worse than Light had ever seen him before, his face drawn and haggard, his eyes bloodshot, and the circles under his eyes darker and puffier than ever.
L glared and, in the same strained tone as before, said, "This is an experiment. It seems that my body has become too accustomed to your presence in bed and refuses to sleep without you. Even I have my limits."
Immense relief washed through Light, at the thought that this was all it was, instead of a gassing. It was almost funny, and Light had to hide a smirk as he watched L wriggle out of his jeans and then wearily crawl into bed, with his usual bedtime outfit: the same white shirt he wore throughout the day, plus cotton boxers.
L settled under the blankets and turned his back. Light could practically feel the defeat oozing off of him. It was an exciting and delicious event, especially after so many days of monotony. As Light's mind began spinning out various possibilities, he also saw that this could be the beginning of a better life.
The great L was vulnerable in this one way. It would be an excellent negotiation point to use for a better living area and for more activities to break up the monotony, perhaps even detective work. L had plenty of cases, more than he could ever personally attend to.
Watari said, "Light, I will be watching at random intervals. At any particular time, you will never know if I'm observing or not. However, if you injure L, I will personally execute you. Is this clear?"
"Yes," Light answered immediately.
Watari turned off the light and exited the room, the door closing with that odd mechanical sound that meant it was a high-tech security door, rather than the plain wooden door it appeared to be.
Being out of the cell, it was simply too stimulating for sleep to be possible. Light stared and stared at the white fabric covering L's back, the shirt almost seeming to dimly glow in the darkness. L's hair was spread out in all directions, an inky smear against the blankets and sheets. L sighed and shuffled, rolling over several times into new positions, but remaining agitated, worked up. He looked thin, his body slumped as never before, and his sighs and little noises were laced with audible frustration.
Light rolled onto his side, turning his back on the proceedings, and had just started to think deeply when he heard and felt L roll close to him, just slightly behind but near enough to depress the bed.
L draped an arm across, as he did so saying, "I'm sorry. It seems that my body is not acknowledging your presence, and so I must do this."
Light froze, astonished at L's uncharacteristic closeness. L continued to wriggle closer bit by bit, hesitantly, his arms clutching, his hot breath on the back of Light's neck preceding his chin lodging there, his slim hips snuggling right behind Light's own.
Every part of L was very close, very intimate, plastered tightly along Light's backside from his neck to his knees, breathing and shivering against him. L's long, spidery fingers tangled in the fabric covering Light's chest, anchoring themselves there, and then L let out a huge sigh.
It was strange. It was uncomfortable, too close, too much. Light wanted to say something, and he opened his mouth several times, ready to speak, but each time couldn't quite figure out what to say and stayed silent instead. It wasn't as if it would do any good. Would L stop it because of a complaint? Would Watari?
No, if L is truly this desperate, to admit defeat this way, then he is probably unwilling to take any measures that might disrupt his sleep process, and Watari will support L's ideas about his own medical needs unless those ideas are very clearly in the wrong. Besides, if I did chase L off successfully, it might negatively impact my chances of getting a better life.
Light breathed carefully in the stillness, staring out into the dim outlines of the room, getting used to the warm weight snuggled tightly against his back. It was not at all like their shared sleeping experiences before. Back then, Light would usually go to sleep long before L, and he'd occasionally wake up in the middle of the night to an accidental tangling of legs or to torsos bumping into each other, but L would merely blink and roll away. In the morning, L was invariably up first.
This exhausted, fragile version of L, in need of a human touch, was something quite different and unexpected. Light's mind worked at trying to decipher it. To run through these possibilities instead of endlessly reliving Kira's defeat was a real relief, a break for Light's weary, jaded mind.
But it wasn't a relief for long. The numerous possibilities narrowed down to pretty much just one as Light felt and heard the evidence. There was the unmistakable sensation of L's growing erection nestled tightly against the back of Light's thigh. That may have been enough evidence just by itself, but it was accompanied by L's grip getting tighter, L's breath speeding up, getting rougher and surprisingly hot against the side of Light's neck. And then there were the little shifts of position, a just-perceptible grinding motion that pressed the erection harder against Light's thigh and then his butt.
Alarming prickles spread all across Light's body, a heightened sense of danger. He imagined L forcibly raping him and he knew he'd fight back but he didn't know if it would actually work with the chains impeding him and L having all the power in the situation. Even with a sexual attack, Watari might still side with L.
Light waited and waited for the mild molestation to transition into an all-out assault, for L to go far enough that a punch to the face would be an easily-justified reaction. Light's body was suffused with a warm flush, every muscle keyed-up and ready to react, adrenaline running high like a strong dose of caffeine, giving a jittery feeling.
Instead of the waited-for assault, Light merely got L's continued heavy breathing, L's arms still clutching around Light's chest awkwardly, and a gradual slowing of the grinding until Light wasn't even sure whether it was happening any more.
In time, even the breathing slowed and the erection softened, and L was limp and soft all over, so very soft that he had to be asleep. After what felt like many hours, Light drifted off as well, clutched in the arms of his strange captor. When he woke up, L was gone, and Light was led back to his usual cell, staying there until the next sleeping session two days later.
That second time, L looked a bit less haggard, but other than that everything was nearly identical to the first time. L was frustrated, L couldn't sleep unless he was grasping Light from behind in a spooning cuddle, and that cuddling inspired an erection and other suggestive behavior that was initially alarming but ultimately went nowhere.
From then on, a sleeping-together session occurred at intervals of once every two to five days. L seemed rather sour about the entire arrangement. He didn't talk much, he was obviously upset, and he seemed to want to simply go through with it and get it over with as quickly as possible.
With the passing of yet more and more sessions, what had been frightening gradually became less scary, and more intriguing, as Light came increasingly to the conclusion that L was determined to never proceed any further, and that L had the stubborn willpower necessary to stick with that plan.
It was really the only exciting thing happening in Light's life, and his body started anticipating it, responding to L's closeness and erection with his own physical arousal, adrenaline still running high but for an entirely different reason. L must have noticed the change, but he never did or said anything to indicate so, and this made the situation feel all the safer, curiosity and intrigue growing and growing in Light, consuming his mind and inflaming his desires.
How would L respond to sexual play? What would his face look like, and those eyes, at the moment of climax? How imaginative would he be as a lover? The speculations began to take a central place in Light's mind, a welcome distraction from the regret of everything that had gone wrong. L's mouth and skilled fingers loomed large in his imagination, tormenting him pleasurably in many dreams.
And then, at last, the resolve grew to say something, to do something, to forever break the stalemate that L obviously had with his own desires. Light knew it was only a matter of waiting until the right moment and then broaching the subject in the correct way. With L so obviously impaired by his feelings, it had to work.
A/N (Author's Note):
This is for a kink meme request on dn_kink2 on Livejournal. All other author's notes have been removed from this copy to comply with AFF's rules on author's notes length.
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