Chapter Text
It'll all be over soon, Light reminds himself.
The last weeks have been enough to drive him mad. He'd forgotten, in the years since L, how much it strains the mind to be under constant surveillance, and this time is worse because he doesn't have anyone at all on his side. The taskforce have been swayed enough to doubt him, thanks to Near's infuriating leaps of logic. Misa is the SPK's prisoner and even before that she'd been little better than a blank slate, so much gone with her forfeited memories that talking to her was like talking to a bewildered doll. Mikami is unreachable for now and all Light can do is trust him to play his part. Takada is dead.
And the one person he most wishes he could talk to is right there and yet still out of reach, because Light has had to let everyone else see him. Ryuk is trapped in his role as Kira's representative and the others are making sure never to leave Light alone with him now; they can barely even exchange glances, though Light still takes a secret comfort in the ever-present weight of Ryuk's gaze. He's so used to having those unblinking eyes on him that he can feel them even with his back turned.
And at least, unlike L back in the day, the taskforce let him shower unsupervised. Light has taken to standing under the hot water for longer and longer, soaking, thinking, breathing in the luxury of brief space and privacy. He can't wait for this to be over.
Tomorrow they'll all be dead, he reassures himself again, and then he can finally tie up all the loose ends. He'll use the Death Note to steer Misa to an inconspicuously tragic demise - or rather he'll decide the script for her fate but he'll invite Ryuk to write it out, since Light's shinigami will undoubtedly be thrilled at the chance to get his claws on whatever's left of Rem's sacrificed lifespan. He'll collect up Mikami, make sure of his continued loyalty, and arrange for him to lay low in safety until the initial heat of the taskforce and SPK's destruction dies down.
And then, oh, then, he's going out to buy a bottle of sake and a bucket of apples and for just one night of pure self-indulgence, he and Ryuk are going to celebrate the way a pair of victorious gods deserve to. Ryuk has done brilliantly at holding up his side of Light's plan - never putting a foot wrong despite the taskforce repeatedly trying to catch him out, keeping his story straight and improvising deftly in response to their questioning even when Light can't prompt him. For that performance, Light fully intends to reward his shinigami with anything he damn well wants.
Which, knowing Ryuk, will be apples and... well. Nothing that Light doesn't want just as much. He's never put a name or a label on the things he does in the dark with Ryuk, and Ryuk in turn has never suggested one; it's just theirs, something hidden in the small print of the Death Note bond, a secret both of them know how to keep. Almost everything Light does these days feels like a sacrifice, time and sleep and privacy and peace of mind all given up to his dogged pursuit of Kira's justice and the new world. Surely he can justify one reward, one unadulterated luxury just for himself.
And if a voice in the back of Light's mind ever comments that it isn't exactly normal to be sharing his body and bed with a monster - and a male one at that - he's long since become an expert in ignoring it. Normal is for Officer Light Yagami of the NPA who makes an impeccable showing of himself with a blonde idol on his besuited arm at social gatherings. For Light the god of the new world, there's darkness and sharp teeth, cold black leather on his naked skin and the secret, unparalleled thrill of a shinigami's enthralled submission to him. Ryuk, unlike anyone else Light has ever been obliged to take to bed, can always be trusted not to push for anything beyond the exact limits of whatever Light offers him, and that alone would justify every liberty Light has ever granted him. The fact that all of it also feels so intoxicatingly good is...
...by this point, unfortunately, driving him mad. It's been three months now since he sent Ryuk to appear before the taskforce in LA with Kira's "spare" Death Note. Since then, it's been too much of a risk to do anything but pretend that the two of them are uneasily-met strangers, and Light hadn't fully appreciated until they were forced apart how accustomed he'd grown to having exotic supernatural pleasures available to him on demand. He'd been having to think about Ryuk just to stay hard for Takada, for goodness sake - his body simply hadn't cared for what hers could offer it, the yielding warmth of her embrace as tedious as Misa's compared to Ryuk's monstrous strength and wicked claws and-
Light shudders at that stray flash of a thought, suddenly all too aware of his cock stiffening hopefully under the sluicing rush of hot water down his body. Damn it.
Tomorrow, he promises himself. His hand drifts down to wrap around his erection and he sighs, letting his eyes close. Taskforce or no taskforce, plans or no plans, he can spare five damn minutes to get himself off.
"Light-o..."
His eyes fly open again as the distance between fantasy and reality suddenly collapses. There's a huge, black, dripping shape phased halfway into the shower with him, wet wings and leathery skin glistening. Yellow eyes glint with interest as their gaze tracks shamelessly down toward his groin.
"Ryuk, what the hell?!" he hisses - half furious at Ryuk for off-script shenanigans, half hopelessly glad to see him. "If anyone saw you come in here-"
"They didn't," Ryuk assures him, voice low beneath the noise of the water. His ever-present grin has a conspiratorial twist to it. "I just wanted to catch you alone for a few minutes."
"Fine, then you're just in time to make yourself useful," Light says, because really, Ryuk's timing is perfect and he can't bring himself to stand on his annoyance at the expense of a chance to get exactly what he wants. "Get in here and get me off."
Ryuk cackles quietly, indulgent as he always is of Light ordering him around. "Love to, Light-o."
And then he's even closer, on top of Light and pressed against his back, and the unearthly cold of shinigami skin and feathers contrasts so deliciously with the hot water that Light shivers all over. Claws trace delicately down his flank and he moans in something that is not desperation. "Ryuk..."
"Shh, they're not supposed to hear you, right?" Ryuk's cock nudges unexpectedly between his legs from behind, silky wet skin gliding against his; Light jumps at the tickling touch but immediately clamps his thighs tight around it, making his shinigami groan quietly in his ear. "Need something in your mouth for this?"
He shudders, arousal twisting sharp and sudden in his gut. He knows he can be loud when he's enjoying himself and Ryuk's come up with some delicious ways to keep him quiet in the past, with the embarrassing result that Light has accidentally ended up with something of a kink for being forcibly silenced. "Do it," he whispers urgently.
Sharp claws nick at his lips in response, accompanied by a wicked chuckle. Cold fingertips take a careful grip on his cock and Light gratefully opens his mouth and lets his brain shut down. Thank whatever powers watch over him for Ryuk.
His shinigami always knows just how to take care of him.