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The penthouse is tense. L has asked the taskforce to wait outside, Watari included. Light Yagami, freshly minted at eighteen, sits primly across from him, legs crossed, fingers laced on the dome of one delicate boy-knee.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet,” L greets.
“I suspect you met me long before I met you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I can’t prove it, of course, but I think someone searched my room recently.”
“We did. We installed cameras.”
“That’s illegal, I thought.”
“You know it is.” L challenges. “But the Kira case has necessitated some extreme measures. I’m sure you can understand that Light?”
“Of course, Mister…?”
“For security purposes I’ll have to ask you to call me Ryuzaki.”
“Of course.” Light nods.
“We were investigating you, in particular,” L bluffs, “because the FBI agents sent to Japan were murdered recently. The agent we believe made contact with Kira directly was investigating your family as part of the US probe into the potential of a NPA mole.”
“That makes perfect sense.”
“I’m glad you agree.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Hm?”
“When you spied on me?” Light supposes. “Is that why I’m here today?”
“That’s part of it.” L rocks in place, hands on his frog-legged knees. “You have a therapist, don’t you, Light?”
“I do.” Light squints. “I don’t see what that has to do with the Kira investigation?”
“Why do you have a therapist?”
“For gender dysphoria. I don’t know if my father told you—”
“He did.”
“Well, that sort of thing is complicated in a traditional country like Japan.”
“Right.”
“Your point?” Light presses, tension mounting.
“I’ve spoken with your therapist. We subpoenaed them.”
“Oh?” Light scoffs. “And did they tell you I’m a terrible serial killer?”
“Not exactly but they certainly confirmed some aspects of the character profile I’m building for you.”
“Like?”
“You know, Light, I don’t mean to embarrass you but when we were running surveillance on your room we caught you with porn.” L diverts.
Light blinks, baffled temporarily. “Is that illegal? With all due respect Ryuzaki I’m eighteen so—”
“No, not illegal. But would you say that was typical of your habits?”
“Habits?”
“Your masturbatory habits.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a simple question.” L tuts, thumbing his mouth.
“I fail to see what this has to do with the Kira investigation.”
“I’ve never seen someone so academic over tits.” L lilts, letting a fraction of his British accent creep out. “Some would call you repressed. Your therapist agrees.”
“Is that illegal?” Light screws a little tighter, irritation mounting.
“It’s troubling.”
“I’m so pent up sexually I’m physically inducing heart attacks?” Light scoffs.
“Maybe.” L answers.
Light stiffens.
“There’s a lot we don’t know about latent physic abilities. The USA have conducted all sorts of research programs into the matter but it’s complicated. Kira is the biggest revelation in the subject for decades because, seemingly, they are physic on a massive scale.”
“I’m not following.” Light fumbles, increasingly restless as he adjusts his legs again.
“Have you heard of hysteria, Light?”
“Hysteria?”
“It’s a medical diagnosis. Fell out around the twentieth century but it used to be quite an epidemic amongst people with your particular toolkit.”
“Toolkit?” Light sneers.
“People with cunts.” L enjoys how Light flushes at the word, another trace of his accent massaging the cruse.
“But obviously science moved on, I assume?”
“Something like that,” L thumbs his mouth. “Actually…”
Light’s back goes rod straight as L pushes off the opposing couch and, rounding the coffee table, comes to sag onto the seat next to Light.
“I’ve got a theory I’d like to test, Light.”
“About Kira or hysteria?”
“Both actually.” L rubs his nose lazily. “See, I have a suspicion that if I resolve your chronic, debilitating, sexual repression that the Kira killings might also stop.”
One lovely brown brow raises, somewhere between exasperated and genuinely vicious. “And how do you treat hysteria, exactly?”
“Well…” L twists towards him, hand sliding over Light’s stomach through his dress shirt.
Light coils as tight a screw in a submarine. Hardly breathing. L’s hand delicately pulling up the hemline to feel the cool, smooth, skin of his navel with the detective’s flat, calloused, palm.
“See there are a range of treatments.” L continues, shuffling a little closer. “Pregnancy, marriage, but really the one with the best clinical evidence is an orgasm. An intense orgasm. It’s actually why Joseph Granville invented the vibrator.”
L watches Light’s throat bob as he pulls closer, his hand trailing up Light’s waist under his shirt. Light leans back, still tense, and as L’s hand inches higher to trace the pressed swell of his breast through his binder L can almost feel Light’s heart pounding under his hand.
“See they had so many patients suffering from hysteria that, well, the doctors were getting carpal tunnel from all the manual stimulation they were dealing out.”
“They must’ve been popular.” Light whispers.
“I’m sure.” L murmurs, their faces very close.
“And you think you’re qualified for this?” Light challenges, a hint snideness in his tone.
“We would ask one of the taskforce if there’s someone you’d prefer but I think I’m more than capable of taking care of the matter.”
“I don’t think any of your goons could make me cum.” Light hisses.
“Shall we find out?” L squeezes his hand around the constrained breast.
Light exhales, whole body shivering. “Sure. Go ahead.”
The tension snaps and L surges forward, pushing Light back onto the couch under him. He can feel it here, in the unspoken, all of Kira. The person he’s been playing cat and mouse with for weeks. And that kind of tension does something to a person.
Light’s mouth is wet and hot. He tires to push up from under L, shifting positions, but L pins him down harder and forces his tongue into Light’s mouth. Light inhales tight through his nostrils but in the purr that follows he sucks L’s sugary tongue.
L pulls back, leaving Light panting, and starts undoing his buttons to strip the suspect. Light laughs. “Are you really serious right now?”
“What? Worried?” L throws open Light’s shirt, sinking back down to affix his mouth to Light’s neck. Light shivers, hips twitching under L’s weight, and the squirming starts.
“This is fucking ludicrous.”
“Yeah, yeah.” L delivers a curt, kittenish, slap to Light’s cheek that makes the endorphins spin around the college kid’s head. Light gasps, eyelashes fluttering and L can feel the blood moving through both their bodies. “Strip. Go on, be a good patient and strip.”
Light laughs, climbing out from under him with L’s permission, and as the student finds his feet L slaps his ass hard. Light yelps, pivoting back towards him. “You--!”
“I want to see.” L lounges back, arms over the back of the couch. Smirk wicked as his bare foot grips the edge of the coffee table crowding Light into the nook with him.
Light scoffs, shrugging off his open shirt and jacket. The binder is pulled over his head a second later, tits bouncing, bigger than L expected. “Poor things must’ve been strapped in there like astronauts.” He tuts.
Light unbuckles his pants next, shrugging them and his underwear down his hips to pool at his ankles. Light huffs, shoulders back, and hands on his hips presents himself. One foot comes up, landing between L’s thighs, exposing a wider view of Light’s cunt and broadening Light’s stance like he’s a conqueror in an eighteenth century war portrait.
L sits up, grabbing hips and pulling Light closer, he buries his face in Light navel. He inhales the scent there. The ripple of boy musk, nipping at the little pouch of pudge under Light’s navel. Light thwacks him over the back of the head, unamused, and L reaches around to crack the boy’s ass with another slap hard enough to make Light yelp. Light grips his shoulders, L’s hand kneading into his ass.
“You’re vile.” Light rasps.
“Sound pleased about it, Mister Yagami.”
“Asshole.”
“Are you going to be a good boy and come to bed or do I have to put you on my lap here?”
“Bed,” Light gasps as L bites into his hip bone, “I deserve a bed.”
“Princess, figures.”
“Human, to your animal.”
L chuckles, standing into a kiss. Light’s arms wrap around him, his shoulder, his neck, fisting in his hair. L holds him close, feeling how hot he is in his arms, and brings his hand up to grip the scruff of Light’s neck. “Bed.” He pivots the boy, walking him towards the bed with the command of his thumb against Light’s brain stem.
Light huffs, but trots across the papers discarded through the penthouse from the taskforce. His clothes are forgotten and, when they enter the Master, they are totally immersed in L’s world. No detectives here. No glasses wipes, no abandoned folders, no surveillance tapes.
“So?” Light looks back at him over his shoulder. “Are you going to--?”
L pushes him forward hard and Light falls into the bed with a squeal. “Asshole!” He scrambles up onto his knees in the bedding.
L grips his ankles and jerks him off his knees. Light squeals again, louder this time, and L flips him onto his back on the mattress pulling him closer by his knees and kicking calves.
“It—It smells like you here. The sheets.” Light laughs.
“You’re next.” L warns, pulling Light’s knees over his shoulders as he sinks down.
“What’re you--? Wait, wait—Aah—”
Light’s head buck backs against the sheets with a smack as L buries his face in between the boy’s legs. Pressing his cunt to his face L kisses into the curls there. Nipping and rubbing his face into the delicate, hot, cunt. Light moans, like it hurts, pressing his cunt up into L’s mouth with a hard arch of his hips. If L didn’t have him bent in half he’d worry the kid might break his nose. Might be worth it anyway.
L noses between the lips. He finds the slit first, already wet for him, and L moans into Light with a kind of animal zeal. Proud of himself. Light moans, maybe from the raw sound of L or maybe from L’s tongue digging into him. It doesn’t matter. L has his lips affixed around Light’s clit soon enough, tongue massaging letters into the button.
Light moans, louder and longer with every moment, his fingers fisting hard enough in L’s hair to make the detective’s scalp bleed. His hips rock, with what little traction they do have, bumping Light’s needy cunt into L’s face with increasingly desperate twitches. Light’s wet little cunt rubs slick and soaking against L’s face, boy juices drooling down L’s chin.
L’s hands knead Light’s ass, thighs and, when he needs more control over the little beast, Light’s hips.
“Yes, yes—” Light gasps, delirious. “Oh fuck--!”
L grips his hips hard enough to bruise, feeling Light quiver under him. His whole body is quaking, tensing, and L circles his tongue just so, face buried hard enough to lose air, circling, circling—
“Aah!” Light’s back bows, all of him trying to buck. The orgasm is explosive. Every muscle seems to twitch and spasm. His toes and fingers grip at nothing, his heels dig into L’s shoulder blades. His hips quirk up-down frantically, all shivers.
And then Light falls back limp. Panting and heaving.
L stands up, panting himself. He was diving for a second there, unable to really breathe. And gulping mouthfuls of air back into his lungs L drags his sleeve over his mouth and chin to wipe away the boy juices left from history’s most repressed serial killer. L’s whole body is sweating under his clothes, his cock hard in his pants, as he stands over Light sprawled on the bed.
Light quakes, sheened with sweat, taking long moments to slow his breathing and find his muscle tension again.
Laughing weakly Light starts to sit up. L takes his hand and helps him. “You better get dressed Mister Yagami.”
“You don’t really think that’ll do anything, do you?” Light giggles, clearly floating on endorphins.
“Hm,” L shrugs. “I’ll talk to you in a few days. We’ll see how the investigation progresses. If there’s still killings we might have to escalate to penetration. Maybe pregnancy.” L leans a little closer over him, smirking.
Light tries to laugh, to mock, but L can see the mounting hunger in him. “That assumes I’m Kira.”
“That’s the assumption we’re working with, isn’t it? Let’s see if you need a handler to keep you dicked down and well behaved.” L whispers, gripping Light’s chin and pulling him into a biting, too brief, kiss that leaves the boy arching towards him when L pulls away.
Light growls, getting up to get his clothes. He dresses quickly, swearing under his breath about professionalism, but L just watches his ass and starts counting down the hours between now and when he gets to fuck it