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The darkness of the room was swallowing him whole. Glowing screens did little to dissuade his ennui, and he ignored his coffee in favor of sucking straight on sugar cubes, crunching every other one between his teeth. The mental acuity enhanced by the rush of sweetness was meaningless when he had nothing interesting to devote his attention to. He was already well aware who the killer he was searching for was. In fact, he’d already found him. It was just a matter of procuring the evidence. Always a thorn in his side, that stubborn requirement of investigations. Why didn’t anyone ever just believe him?
Greatest detective in the world, and still no one trusted his gut instinct. Why the hell even ask for his help?
He spun around in his chair. He flicked a sugar cube and it slid away into the gaping maw of the void. He played Vivaldi’s Summer with his fingers tapping across the desk.
Beep beep. Beep beep.
Ah. Kira. Wonderful.
Beep–
“Yes?”
It was an odd hour for him to call. In fact, he was not the type to call at all– and why would he? It wasn’t like they were friends.
“Ryuzaki,” Light Yagami’s electronic voice declared, loud and forceful, “I have made some important deductions about Kira.”
L tapped pause on the security footage he was (technically) reviewing. Had he, now? “You should not share those with me over the phone, Light. Wait until you come to task force headquarters.”
“No no no no, shh, it’s fine. ’S fine, I’m gonna tell you.”
L frowned. This was quite odd. Should he hang up? But then he’d just be bored again.
“Light–”
“I think,” Light continued, undeterred, “that Kira. Is gay.”
Okay. Alright. What?
He was certainly roused from his boredom– by confusion, more than anything, but that was an unfamiliar enough emotion that it registered as somewhat pleasant. Different, at least.
“...Uh huh. And how,” said L, carefully, tracing his finger in a circle on his desk, “did you come to that conclusion?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” L heard shuffling of fabric on the other end of the line, then a huff and soft thump. Was Light just… in his room, calling about this? On his bed? Why on Earth would he do such a thing? “Kira’s fuckin’... obsessed with you. He’s obviously in love with you.”
L blinked a few times, rapidly. Whoever was on the phone with him, it was not the Light Yagami he was familiar with.
“He probably… he probably, fucking, jerks off to the thought of you trying to–”
“Light,” L interrupted, voice firm, pieces rapidly falling into place. “I believe you are drunk. You should not be calling me.”
“What? No, no no no, no, I’m not– no, I just had a little. No, I’m fine. What? Why shouldn’t I be calling you? I thought you wanted to work on the case with me.”
L sighed, pressing his face into his hand. His confusion gave way to something closer to irritation. L wanting to work on the case with Light was certainly a bold way to put it. More like he had no choice, to try and rustle up some of that much needed evidence. Unfortunately, Light was a rather adept social chameleon. He lied as naturally as he breathed. L’s efforts were thus far fruitless.
Wait, Light was calling to proclaim his theory that Kira was… homosexual? But he was Kira. Was this some roundabout way of coming out? Declaring his love? It was utterly stupid, if that was the case. He really did act like a teenager sometimes.
“I had thought,” L answered, reaching for a marshmallow bunny on a plate beside his keyboard, “that your powers of deduction would aid the case, or that you would slip up and reveal yourself as Kira. I see now that I was foolish to request help from someone so… immature.”
Light was silent for a moment. L popped the bunny in his mouth, and continued while chewing: “You should not be drinking, nor should you be calling me to propose inane theories conjured by your alcohol-ridden brain. You should hang up, Light, and go to bed.”
He could be the one to hang up. That would make sense. That would probably be the logical thing to do.
But Light was… was he… was that a sniffle?
What the hell. What is my life. And yet, this was, somehow, still relevant to the investigation, because Light might be (was, without a doubt) Kira, so L would be remiss to ignore what he had to say when his tongue was loosened. But… seriously. What?
“‘M not,” Light pouted. L pressed his lips together and took a slow breath in through his nose. “‘M not immature, and ‘m not an a-amateur– I know what I’m talking about! L, I’m–”
“Ryuzaki, please,” corrected L, clipped.
“L, I’m not stupid, okay? I’m onto something. Don’t you– don’t you think you could predict some more of Kira’s moves, if you knew more of his motivations? Isn’t that– that makes sense. You should consider that. You’d be the stupid one to not think about it.”
“Stupid?” L almost scoffed, but kept his tone fairly indifferent. “Light, I might agree with some of your points another time, but right now, you sound, to be blunt, rather idiotic. You called me up at midnight, impaired, to claim that Kira is gay. Does that seem particularly smart to you?”
Quiet on the line for a bit longer. L took the time to examine his nails. They were a bit of a mess– all different lengths, and the skin around the beds was damaged by his teeth.
“No, I’m– I’m smart. You know I’m smart. That’s why I’m– don’t you care about my conclusions?” More shuffling, and a little hmph. “Don’t you care about me, L? I’m good, I’m smart, I–”
“Be quiet, please.” L sighed, leaning his head back to look at the dark ceiling. “Whether or not you are good is entirely irrelevant. And asking me if I care about you is completely ridiculous.”
“Do you, though? Aren’t I?” Light sounded small. L sighed again.
“You are a person of interest. You are a suspect. That is the basis of our relationship, if you’ll recall.” He kept his words short, dismissive. He was not interested in prolonging whatever fantasy Light was trying to indulge in regarding their interactions.
Love. Kira. Kira, in love with L. Patently absurd. Light was however many drinks in and just trying to mess with him, surely.
Light took in some shaky breaths. L brought his cup of coffee, cooling, closer to him and swirled his finger in it.
“You fucking– you want me to be Kira so bad. You wish I was Kira because you’re fucking obsessed with him. Maybe I should’ve called telling you my theory was that you’re gay.”
L let out an exhale through his nose. “I don’t see how that would have gone any better for you. I don’t want you to be Kira, Light, it just seems likely that you are.” He might as well ask. “Are you?”
“No!” It was a frankly childish whine. “Obviously fucking not, I’m not– I’m not gay, I don’t– I would never jerk off to the thought of you–”
“I don’t believe we’ve established that those are facts about Kira.”
“Well I don’t. I’m not. Kira. Or gay.”
“Okay, Light.” L said, and fell silent. Light did too.
After about a minute of nothing, swirling his finger in his cup, he said, bored again, “Well, if that’s all–”
Light cut in, sounding aggressive, “No, no. No, you don’t get to go. Why the fuck did you say I was stupid?”
L took his finger out of his coffee and put it in his mouth. “Well,” he said, speaking around it, “I said idiotic, technically. There’s no reason to believe that Kira isn’t just an egomaniac playing lethal games with a detective he views as beneath him. I see no connection between Kira’s actions and the idea of love. Unless, you have a different interpretation? Do you have a more personal understanding of Kira’s behavior, Light?”
“Fuck you,” Light spat, and L blinked. That was a new one. “Fuckin’– stupid goddamn detective, always trying to get me to confess– I’m not going to. I’m not Kira. I’m just– god, everything I do is evidence to you. I bet this is evidence to you, huh? Because you’ve got nothing else?”
L made a noncommittal sound. Light huffed.
“You’re so– you’re so–”
“You,” L interjected, “are embarrassing yourself, Light.”
Light made an odd sound, like a snarl and a laugh and a scoff, and L heard more rustling bedsheets.
“Yeah? I’m fucking embarrassing myself? I’m so stupid? Go on, say it. Tell me what an idiot I am. I bet you’re rolling your eyes at me right now.”
He sounded oddly breathy. L frowned, took his finger out of his mouth.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on, L,” Light goaded. It sounded like he was shifting around. “Ryuzaki. Fucking whatever. Just say it. You want to.”
He did? A bold assumption. “This is a very stupid request, certainly.”
Light let out a long, hard exhale. “Yeah. I bet you have work to be doing, huh?”
Not that it was especially interesting. “I do, in fact–”
“But you’re stuck on the phone with me. Bet you’re fuckin’ sick of that. Don’t you just want to tell me off?”
L didn’t answer that. Did he? Kind of, but not so badly that he’d give into Light’s ridiculous demand for it. What was Light after? Did he think that this would somehow make him seem less Kira-like?
When L remained silent, Light pushed again, not sounding particularly contrite. “I’m annoying you, aren’t I? I’m fucking– I called you and I’m acting like an idiot. I’m stupid. Right? I’m–” he stopped, taking in a sudden breath. “I’m– beneath you. Don’t you think?”
Confused, L stared at a random point in the darkness of the room and tried to pay very close attention to the sounds on the other side of the line. Soft, shifting of sheets, Light’s breath, oddly heavy, and if he strained his ears, the occasional creak of a bedframe.
“Ah,” he said, the realization hitting him like lightning and thunder– the acute knowledge, and then all its implications seconds later. “Light. I don’t believe it’s appropriate for me to play into this.”
“What?” Light’s voice sounded harsh, crackling, loud through the phone, like the microphone was closer to his mouth than before. “I’m just– what the hell do you think I’m doing? Fucking pervert.”
L almost snorted. “Well, I didn’t say specifically, but given your response, I’d say there’s a strong possibility that you’re touching yourself. Upwards of ninety percent.”
Light inhaled sharply. The shuffling of sheets did not stop. “Pervert, you’re fucking disgusting, you think I’d–” he made a breathy, shaky noise, “–think I’d masturbate on the phone with you? Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Maybe you could tell me, Light, considering that’s what you’re doing. I’m a little lost myself.”
Light let out a muffled sound– maybe he’d buried his face in a pillow, or put a hand over his mouth. L strongly considered hanging up the phone, but… well, as much as he hated to admit it, something about it was stirring heat under his skin. He was, at the very least, interested. Light was behaving incredibly strangely.
Was this really who Kira was?
“I’m not, I’m not, I wouldn’t– just, just tell me– tell me anything. What would you do if I… if I was?”
L imagined Light wanted him to say that he’d touch himself, too. “I’d hang up.”
Light whined, something high in his throat that the phone speakers probably didn’t do justice. “Don’t– don’t. I’m not. ‘M not doing anything. Do you–” his breath hitched,”–do you really think I’m stupid?”
His opinion had certainly shifted over the course of this phone call. “Right now? Yes.”
Light made a broken sound, and the bedsheets rustled louder. “You don’t think I’m good?”
Hmm. He really shouldn’t be doing this. “No.”
“Fuck,” Light gasped under his breath, then louder, said, “You think I’m bad. You think I’m an– an idiot. You’re wondering why you ever invited me onto the task force. Because I–” he broke off in a whimper.
L’s mouth felt dry. “Yes,” he replied slowly, and Light whimpered again. He should not want more of that sound. It was completely inappropriate and unprofessional at best, and wildly unethical, dangerous to the investigation, at worst. But still he said, “Your incompetence is astounding. I don’t know how you managed to trick me into thinking you were clever in the first place.”
Light’s inhale trembled. He protested, weakly, “I’m– I am smart, I swear, I–”
“No,” L dismissed. He put his finger on a sugar cube and pressed down, crushing it into tiny scattering crystals. “You’re just very good at faking it. You’re stupid enough to think I’ll believe you’re not touching yourself right now.”
Light moaned, then cut it off with a small, choked sound. “I’m– I’m not–”
L laughed into the phone, cruel on purpose, derisive. “Shut up. Don’t bother if you can’t make it convincing. I thought you were a good liar, Light.”
Light kept quiet for a moment, just letting out the occasional tiny whimper. His bedsheets were the loudest sound coming from the phone. Then, in a small voice, he said, “I can’t be– I can’t be touching myself. I’m on my front. I couldn’t even reach with my hands.”
The mental image that conjured made L’s dick twitch. Light was on his front? So he wasn’t jerking himself off, he was– he must be grinding against the sheets, or a pillow. Like a whore. Like a desperate animal unable to help himself. L found his face getting uncharacteristically hot.
“Then,” he said, voice carefully measured, “I suppose you aren’t touching yourself, are you? You must be acting like a bitch in heat for some other reason.”
Light gasped, a long, shuddering sound. “N-no, no, I– I–”
“Honestly, Light,” L murmured, tapping his fingers on his desk. “What did you expect to get out of this call? For me to agree with your absurd theories? I’m shocked anyone could string together thoughts that inane. I’m almost impressed at your stupidity. It’s… unearthly.”
“Oh, god,” Light mumbled, and the bed creaked more audibly, quicker, over the speakers. “I’m– I’m just wasting your time, I’m worthless, I’m…”
He was panting, seemingly having trouble coming up with more to say. L inspected his nails again. Hearing Light– Kira– say those things– want those things, to be treated like dirt– was extremely satisfying in a way he didn’t want to examine too thoroughly just yet.
“You’re not worth a second glance,” he agreed, gripping the edge of the desk, pulling his chair closer in. “You’re an embarrassment to my reputation, frankly. I don’t see why I’ve bothered thinking about you so much.”
“Fuck!” Light whined, breath coming hard and fast. “Oh my god– oh god, L, I– I want–”
“What?” L taunted, biting his lip to stave off the somewhat feral smile threatening his mouth. “I thought you weren’t doing anything. What could you possibly want?”
Did he want to let Light cum? God, what was he doing? If he was to continue playing his character, it would make sense to deny him. But he did want to hear what it sounded like… and he was curious what Light might do after. Would he hang up quickly, pretend it never happened? Would he say thank you? What a little bitch.
Kira, L’s bitch. Hmm.
“No– no… that’s right, I’m not–” Light panted, seemingly fighting a battle in his mind, and then, beautifully, he broke. “Fuck, L, just say I can, please just say I’m allowed, I need it, I need– please, please–”
L let out a long, purposefully drawn-out and weary sigh. “I don’t see why I should let you do anything. I can’t trust you won’t mess it up.”
A sound like a sob, and Light’s breath caught, the bedsheets still rustling frantically. “I know, I know, I’m a– I’ll fuck it up, but– god, please let me, L, please, I’m so close. Please.”
L held the edge of his desk, pulled himself along it to spin his chair in a circle, and said, like Light was of no more consideration than a fly buzzing at his window, “My, you’re being very bad on the phone with me, aren’t you, Light? By all means. Make a mess of yourself. You’re the one who’s going to have to clean it up.”
“Oh, oh– thank you, fuck, thank you, I’m–” Light broke off in a shuddering moan, pathetic sounds punched repeatedly out of his throat, starting loud and trailing off into just the occasional whimper, until the only sounds coming through the phone were heavy, shaking breaths.
They were ugly, honest noises. Better than he could have hoped for. L waited, spinning himself around once more. Maybe he could say something like oh, good job Light, you sounded so pretty, but why would he? He’d rather Light sit in his humiliation. Not only at what he had done, but what he had wanted.
Kira was quite an interesting specimen, wasn’t he? It shouldn’t surprise L to learn he was somewhat sexually deviant. He could probably have gone further, with his insults. L idly pictured Light on a leash. He pictured his knee on his back. Yes, Light would like that. He might fight it, but his body would tell the truth.
He walked his fingers across his desk towards the marshmallows from before. He picked up one shaped like a hamster, this time. Cute little thing.
He popped it in his mouth, chewed it to bits, swallowed.
“Oh my god,” Light mumbled, breaking the silence, and it sounded like it was to himself. “Oh god– Ryuzaki?”
“Hmm?”
“Fuck.”
The call ended. L snorted.
Well, that was that, wasn’t it? It was hard to say exactly how much Light had drank, so L wasn’t confident assuming he’d forget the interaction. Honestly, it was probably best if he would linger in his shame. Maybe Kira’s judgements would be particularly brutal in the following days. That would be a fun reaction, wouldn’t it?
He could make some passes at Light’s intellect, next time he saw him– see if he could draw Kira out in the ensuing rage (and/or arousal). Not that he necessarily wanted to actually do anything with Light. But learning how he worked, picking at his seams, pressing his buttons, might give L the proof he desperately needed. It could at least build his profile a bit more.
And it would be, unlike most other things, interesting.
L considered his own relief for a moment, and decided he didn’t care.
He turned back to the monitors and pressed play on the footage.
After a few minutes passed, his phone beeped. New text from Kira.
Im so f uckng sory
L turned his phone off.