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Light needs to kiss L before he’s gone.
Light had hoped the dips of L’s hips and crooked back would immediately become repulsive to him, that his form would inspire fury and not a quiet endearment. Kira was back! It was supposed to be blazing and glorious, but his heart contained no wrath for L, not anymore.
The knowledge of L’s inevitable corpse should have stoked his passion, made him eager and proud. But it only lent a particular frailty to the bones of L’s wrist, his heartbeat became precious. L was a sight and soul available for a limited time only, and Light had him, this rare and fleeting thing.
He wasn’t a threat anymore, and Rem would do away with him as soon as he was. So it wasn’t that odd, that irrational, to want to kiss him.
Or, more accurately, Light wanted to be kissed. Light has plenty of kisses left, and he could get away with kissing whoever he wanted. But L only has so many, and each kiss would be a countdown, and if he kept kissing him and kissing him one day he’d run out.
The last kisses of a dead man walking; they should all belong to Light.
So that’s why Light is in their shared room, why he’s awake, why he’s stroking L’s hair, and why he’s counting each heartbeat, nested in each breath.
All of this, very soon, will be gone.
But just L’s playing solitaire! Light wants to slam his laptop shut and scream, “You’re going to die soon, so stop wasting time!” And indicate, somehow without saying it, that a better use of his time would be kissing Light. He should be giving all of himself to Light. Light would hold onto it, really savor it, because he’s the only one who understands how valuable these moments are.
L certainly doesn’t. He’s opened Minesweeper and is now playing both at the same time, which could be considered maximizing time if it wasn’t so meaningless! He should-
“You don’t have to be here, you know,” L intones.
“I know,” Light sighs, continuing to thread his fingers through L’s hair as he plays, “but I wanted to be.”
“Hm, why is that?” L asks. Light glares at him, I’m in your bed, caressing your hair, shouldn’t it be obvious!
L opens a new window to play sudoku.
Light swallows, “well, I’ll miss this. I’ve become very acclimated to our proximity.”
“That’s a reasonable outcome.” L hums.
Light scowls.
“You seem frustrated.” L remarks as he fills in sudoku cells, marks mines, and stacks cards.
Yes! He is! Light wishes he were a doctor and not a murder suspect, so he could say “you have only weeks left to live,” without it garnering suspicion. What would L do if he knew? He’d kiss him, right?
Light isn’t going to miss L, that’d be ridiculous. L is an obstacle to Kira’s designs. But L is a brilliant man, and his last days should be as brilliant as he is.
And the most brilliant thing one can do is kiss Light Yagami.
So Light curls a little closer toward him, tilts his head in so his breath warms L’s cheek. “Yeah, you could say I’m a little… frustrated.”
“Hm, go on,” L nods.
Light grinds his teeth. L will keep dancing around it, that’s his game. They don’t have time for games. Light will have to be direct, a small loss of pride is worth it when there’s a deadline, he reasons.
Light releases a pointed sigh and says, “I’m just waiting for you to kiss me.”
L turns to him, “kiss you?” L glances at Light’s lips and tilts his head, as though examining them. “Why would you want that?”
Light blinks and worries he miscalculated. No one is immune to Light’s charms, L should be groveling for the chance. “You don’t want to?”
“No, I didn’t say that.” L swallows. “I just asked why.”
Because you’re running out of time. Because I need to be your last. Because maybe it will change my mind. “I don’t know,” Light shrugs, “I guess I’m bored.”
“Hm,” L turns back to his games, “I’m not convinced.”
Why is it always a game? Why can’t we be honest?
“Ryuzaki,” Light needs to hold his knee to stop it bouncing in impatience. He can’t debase himself to plead but it’s getting desperate. “Stop pretending to be so ambivalent.”
“But it’s producing an interesting reaction in you.” L bites his thumbnail, “maybe I’ll stop, as you said, pretending to be ambivalent, if Kira stops pretending to be Light.” He clears the sudoku and turns, “how does that sound?”
Lights groans in frustration, “none of that matters! I’m not Kira, and that isn’t going to change. But this will, we can!” Light tilts down L’s screen and tries to say, with his eyes, but we’re running out of time.
“Just one kiss,” he sighs, then swallows, and sighs again, wincing, “please.”
“Hm, alright.” L closes his laptop the rest of the way. “But my hypothesis is that it will make it worse.”
“Make what worse?”
L makes a motion around his ears Light cannot understand, “the end,” L surmises.
But before Light can make sense of that, L’s hand is brushing his cheek. His fingertips are warm from his laptop. His breath is hot and his lips are soft.
It was too quick to really process, just a peck. Light swore he would savor it, but L didn’t give him the chance.
L licks his lips, leans back, and then his eyes widen. He looks up at Light, elated. “I was wrong,” he says.
L has never been elated about being wrong. “About what?” Light asks.
“It didn’t make it worse. It made it better. It’s so soft, it’s almost gone.” L hunches forward to grip Light’s shoulders.
“What are you talking about?” Light raises a brow and tries to distance himself. This was supposed to be about Light, about kissing Light– about giving L that chance. But L, of course, is making it strange and about himself.
“Ignore me, I say nonsense sometimes. But I need to kiss you again.”
L leans in before Light can say, “okay.” He was going to agree, but the fact L didn’t care upsets him. Or maybe it excites him.
This kiss is longer, so long that it evolves. It feels like L is realizing something along the way and growing hungrier, more desperate.
These were supposed to be the last kisses of a dead man walking.
But L is kissing to save his life, like contact with Light is his salvation.
It makes Light feel feral, his heart rattling wild. L is ceaseless and his weight and grip on his shoulders is pushing him onto his back. L doesn’t even notice when his laptop clatters to the floor.
Meanwhile, Light is trying to deduce what L’s vagaries about “the end,” could mean, but he keeps losing himself in kissing back. It’s addicting. He grips L’s scalp, hair tangled and untamed.
Light’s head tips back and L’s lips drift down his jaw and neck. Light shivers and squeezes shut his eyes. L’s mouth finds its way to that junction of neck and shoulder. L kisses and Light gasps, throwing his hand over his mouth.
“No, no. Don’t do that.” L circles his wrist and tugs it away. “I need to hear you.” L says it like it’s a true necessity,
This was what Light wanted. This is the kind of passionate splendor with which one should spend their final days. But there is something… off.
It feels like losing. It shouldn’t. L is dead– L will die– but there’s a look on his face, a smug, wondrous satisfaction. L’s figured it out, and Light doesn’t even know what “it” is.
Through kissing Light, L has had an epiphany. And that should make Light worry, but all it does is make Light feel special.
“What is it?” Light sighs, “you’re looking at me like…” your god, your savior, your salvation.
“This is going to sound odd,” L starts, and tugs off his shirt.
Light nods, “okay?”
“It started when you touched the notebook, a quiet… jingling.” L rolls up Light’s shirt and briefly presses his lips to Light’s stomach. “It was like the rattle of the chain. Just one little bell.”
Light exhales as L’s fingers move up his ribs.
“And the strength and volume of that ringing grew in proportion to our time together. It may have been compounding exponentially, but as only I could hear this sound, the data was too qualitative to properly graph.”
His palms graze over Light’s nipples.
“Eventually, it came to this dreadful tolling. It sounded like the end, like a closing door. I reasoned it to be a warning. I wondered, did all of Kira’s victims face this sound?” L’s hands slide past Light’s armpit as he threads his arms free of the shirt. “I tried to distract myself, but it only grew louder.”
Light is now shirtless, and quivering. “But then you kissed me,” Light finishes, “and it is quiet.”
“So forgive me if I kiss you too hard, or touch you too much,” L leans forward and palms Light's cheek, “for these are my prayers to you, my desperation to survive.”
L kisses him like he’s drowning– gasping, inhaling him– Light is overwhelmed by the intensity, finding himself on his back with no desire to escape. L’s hands journey down his chest, over his stomach, and down to the fly of his pants.
Light squeaks when L cups hims.
“Do you hear me, Kira? Will you grant me your mercy?” L asks, toying with Light’s zipper. “Would you like me to worship you? I have an offering.”
Light doesn’t bother saying “I’m not Kira,” he’s said that enough and nothing has changed. Instead he nods, trying to keep it steady, stoic, and not eager. All he’s wanted is to be worshiped, but blushing, quivering, and on his back, Light is not the paradigm of godliness. He can’t stop the want from melting his features.
L removes Light’s pants and kisses up his thigh. L traces his finger up and down the bulge in Light’s boxers. There’s a dark spot on the fabric, a dot of leaking precum. L laps at that spot and Light whines.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” L asks, looking at Light’s straining cock.
Gods don’t want, they take. So he’ll take what L gives him. “‘Yes,” he exhales.
L tugs off Light’s boxers and marvels at his apparent desperation. He takes Light’s erection in hand, between his fingers, bouncing and weighing it between them.
“Do you have to do it like that?” Light sighs.
L ignores him, gripping his cock and pressing it against the side of his face, “it’s so warm,” he says.
But then he’s gone, slipping away to dig through drawers and bathroom cabinets.
“What are you looking for?” Light asks, struggling to hide the snap of impatience in his voice. His hips keep straining for contact, if he were alone he’d flip around and hump the mattress.
“Lube.” L answers.
Oh, Light can feel his face heating up. “There’s a sample-sized packet in my drawer, behind my razors.”
Light can hear the slide of the drawer open and close. “Hm. When did Light obtain this? And for what purpose?”
“Misa gets sent a bunch of samples of products for brand deals. I saw hyaluronic acid and thought it was moisturizer, but it turned out to be some fancy lube.” Light feels ashamed, even though that lube is about to be inside him.
Inside him. It makes his stomach do somersaults and his chest fill with this overwhelming elation. As if L could stay inside him and Light could keep a piece of him there long after he’s gone. Just for him. His.
L should be kept somewhere. How will they bury him? Or will they cremate him and let him scatter to the wind? They should give him to Light. He should be Light’s. Light would preserve him well, for posterity. He’d take such good care of him, it’d be like he was never gone. Maybe he doesn’t have to be-
Light gasps. Something cold and wet is touching a place that has never been touched before, and Light flinches away from it on instinct.
He always thought sex would be vulgar, and sure, the mechanics of it are. Finger. Ass. Lube. But the way L is watching his stomach flutter, the way he soothes his thigh, and the way Light can feel himself opening, relaxing, does not feel obscene. It feels holy.
“You have to relax,” L says, “that’s all this is about.” L sinks another finger in and Light can feel his muscles tighten around the digits on impulse. L shakes his head, “Relax. The purpose of this isn’t to actually stretch the muscle, that’s not how it works. It’s just getting you used to it so your body lets me in.”
Let him in. Has Light ever let someone in? Is it even possible for him to be that open, that vulnerable, that honest? L is going to die soon, anyways. Light’s secrets will die with him. Maybe Light can fall open just this once, a memory L can take to his grave.
“Good, good. That’s it.” L coos, pumping in and out the two fingers. Light shivers from the praise. The fingering itself isn’t exactly pleasurable, but the intimacy and sensation of it makes his stomach tight. A part of it makes him feel infiltrated, blasphemed. At the same time, he feels worshipped.
“You seem more used to it. I’m going to start making you feel good.” L remarks.
He was going to start? Was this not already good? Light was already losing himself in the vulnerability, the simple infiltration, the way his body flinched and clenched around L’s fingers. He thought that was the extent of it.
He was wrong. L’s fingers prodded and crooked and pressed against something that made his heavy eyes shoot open. His legs kicked out and he flailed to grasp something.
L stroked his thigh, easing him like an animal. Then he pressed again.
Light whimpered and shook. It felt like a sudden drop, a shot of straight euphoria ricocheting up his spine.
“If you’re like this with just my fingers, I wonder how you’ll handle my cock,” L muses.
His cock. Oh, oh Light wants to see it. He wants to see the piece of L he’ll get to keep inside. It’ll open him and press into him and hopefully his body won’t let him forget it. Is it big? Is it clean? Is it unmistakably L’s?
A part of him hopes that it’s misshapen and dirty, so that it will fit into Light like a key into a lock, so that it would leave a memory of L behind.
L presses that spot again and pleasure burns in his chest so hot it feels sorrow. Light is going to miss him. He’s missing him already.
“I think you’re ready.” L says.
“Can I see it first?” Light pants.
L shuffles off his jeans and Light's breath catches at the sight of the tent in L’s boxers. Light swallows and presses his foot to it, just curious, and wanting to feel its warmth.
L shudders and his hips grind up on Light’s sole. Light blinks, awed.
Light draws his foot back and catalogues L’s slight frown at the loss. L peels off his boxers.
Light has not seen many penises. This is the first erect one he’s seen other than his own. L is uncircumcised and Light can’t look away from the head, red with arousal, peeking from the sheath of skin.
He wraps his fingers around L. L looks up at him in surprise, and Light holds that eye contact as he slides his grip up and down L’s length. Light watches L’s brow furrow. He watches his lips part and a gasp escape. It wasn’t a full hand-job, Light just wanted to coax out more reactions, so he can keep them forever once L’s gone.
He kisses L, overcome with a sudden need to be closer. The word “gone” did something to him. He needs to quickly tuck L inside him. He’ll be safe that way, that way he won’t leave. If Kira and L could become one, no one would need to die. The handcuffs could come back. They could stay connected. He could keep L. If L just slips inside him, if L just completes him maybe, maybe, maybe-
“Light!” L moans.
Light had scrambled onto his lap, kissing him ferociously. He fondled the sheets for the packet of lube and smeared it over L’s cock and around his hole. He gripped and kissed him and tugged on his lips. He was an animal, just a divine, primal force.
He sank, hissing and panting and purring, onto L’s dick. He spasms at the hilt and groans, his body is clenching and pulsing around this thick thing Light forced into it. It’s big, fuck, so big. What’s wrong with him? L’s in him and-
Light is shaking, it feels so good. His thighs are quivering and he can’t hold himself up so he collapses further onto L, punching him further inside- fuck! He can’t think.
L isn’t even moving but Light feels fucked. The pressure inside his body is constant, inescapable. He’s going to cum already. He’s going to. It’s too much, oh fuck.
Light cums around L, releasing in a white rope draped over L’s chest.
Light pants, he’s dizzy, and his insides aren’t burning anymore, but L’s cock is still stuffing him full.
L swallows, “are you okay?”
Light groans in response and mouths at L’s neck. He’s getting hard again. Because L fits him so well.
L fits inside him perfectly. And if L can fit so perfectly into Kira, surely L can fit into Kira’s world? Yes, yes! Light starts rolling his hips, a subtle grind. L will fit into his world. He’ll make L fit. The same way he made L fit inside of him.
“Light! Mmm!” L grips his waist.
Light is writhing, riding him, he pants nonsense into L’s ear. “I’ll keep you. Fuck, you’ll be Kira’s pet, you’ll be mine, we’ll be together, I won’t lose you! I won’t lose! Ngh-”
Light’s skin is shiny with sweat, L clings to him, sticky. “You want me to be yours, Kira?”
“Yes! I’ll take- ah! Such good care of you. No one will- fuck- no questions, because you will be mine. Mine. Kira’s. Fucking mine.” He says this against L’s lips, sloppy, claiming him.
“What if you were mine?” L counters, “mine to fuck as I pleased, I think you would like that.”
Light is hard again but his thighs are so, so weak. He needs to be fucked he can’t keep-
“Lie back, Light.”
And Light listens, falling onto his back and letting L pound him. Light's body just parts open for him. L’s cock should be this rough, intrusive thing, but Light's guts were so eager to restructure and let him in. Light could restructure his world. Or L could just assert himself into it. Light doesn’t really care as long as L is a part of it. Please, please let L be part of it.
His divine purpose and his lust are conflating. It feels like L’s cum will fix everything. If L filled him up and stayed in him and held him, everything would work out. He could be god and still have his L, let him have his L, his l-
L’s hips snap and Light quakes. L is grunting, really fucking him, taking him, devouring him like the hedonist he is. Light grips him, clawing at his back.
“Please!” Light moans, “please!” Please don’t die. Please fuck me harder. Please cum inside me. Please, I don’t want to kill you. Please don’t die. Please be mine.
L makes a sound in his throat, a strained sort of warning, and his hips are rutting forward aimlessly. He burrows into Light and his body bounces with the force. He can feel L twitch inside him as he releases. He feels a peculiar moisture crawl through his guts.
L is panting over him, quivering slightly. “You’re Kira,” he sighs, his voice still accented with ecstasy.
Light doesn’t have it in him to draw his face into that stiff, innocent mask, so he just whines into L’s shoulder. It’s over. L must die, or he will.
“I won’t kill you,” Light concedes, a hoarse whisper against his cheek. “J-Join me in my kingdom. We can be gods together,” he sounds delusional.
“You’re no god, Light.” L says, kissing the corner of Light’s mouth. “You can join me, join L, we can take on cases together. We’d make a wonderful team.”
L is soft inside him. “I can’t. L, I have a purpose.”
“I can be your purpose,” L says, absorbing Light in those big, dark eyes. His hand strokes Light’s arm. “I’ll worship you.”
Light shivers. “I can’t sacrifice my world for you.”
Light then stiffens, wracked with sudden determination. He almost laughs. Why was he considering L’s proposition? Why was he considering L’s feelings? Kira is a god. Kira can take what he wants. L is a mortal, his mortal. The sex made him soft.
Light sits up and slides L out of him. The sight of L’s cum leaking from his hole would melt him again, so he refuses to look, just cringing at the sensation as it drips down his thighs. “Just because I’ve decided not to kill you does not mean you’ve won.” Light states, jabbing a finger at L’s chest.
L nods, amused, and Light wants to kiss that face off of him.
“I will make you mine, understand? You will bend to Kira’s will. My future will have you in it,” Light huffs, “whether you like it or not.”
L bites his thumb, eyes flashing, he smirks, “I think I will.”