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It hadn’t been long since Light got his Kira memories back. The handcuffs were no longer trapping him to L, but he would be lying if he said he had done anything to stay as far apart as they used to be before the whole story. In fact, if you looked close enough, it would be easy to see that Light was actually even closer to L these days.
And of course L noticed that. He noticed everything regarding Light, and the teen was more often than not left feeling uneasy with that. Then again, he didn’t do anything about it, so it wasn’t his place to complain, either.
Currently, they were getting ready to sleep. That is, Light was going over his night routine as L stood a few feet behind him, leaning against the wall with his hands on his pockets, eyes trailed on the floor. They didn’t talk about how they didn’t stop sleeping together after the cuffs were removed; Light had just gone to the room the next night, as always, and when L just followed him it was settled.
Regaining his memories hadn’t really changed much between them, except for the fact that Light had started to think his words through more than he used to. More or less, he had been sincere with L while they were after Higuchi, and a part of him had liked it.
Liked it more than he should.
He knew it; he knew he was postponing L’s death. At that very moment, he could easily trap Misa in a situation that would force Rem to kill anyone who posed as a threat for her. And yet there he was, slowly combing his hair to drawl out this small moment when he could just look at L through the mirror and allow his mind to wander.
Most of the times, L didn’t meet his gaze, but tonight was different. Everything about them was different that day and Light couldn’t just pinpoint what it was. Perhaps L had finally figured out that his memories were back, or maybe had even figured out Light’s whole plan. Light wouldn’t put it past him, never.
L had been the only one Light had felt to be a proper nemesis. They were meant for that, to chase each other until one of them perished away. At least that was what Light told himself so he would manage to sleep at night, L’s huge eyes watching him. Always watching him.
Once finished, Light set down his brush, gaze never leaving L’s. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, Light’s breathing slowing. Anyone would have mistaked it for calmness, but he knew it was just the fact that his chest was feeling tighter and tighter.
Hands moving out of his pockets, L started moving towards him and Light had to physically stop himself from gasping. Because he saw the intention in L’s eyes, knew exactly what he was going to do. Oh, he was doomed if he didn’t even think to stop him, and the worst part was that he didn’t care; couldn’t care.
After closing the final distance between them, L encircled one arm around his waist and used the other to slowly turn Light’s head to him. He went almost willingly, debating the matter for less than a second before simply giving in. It wasn’t like him. Before the losing of his memories, he would never have acted like that. But right now, all he could think about was L, L, L.
The detective breathed against his lips, making Light’s lids heavy. Their mouths brushed, very slowly, very gently, L’s fingers touching the side of his jaw. However, just as Light was about to respond, L pulled away completely, turning around and moving to the bed.
Light was left breathless, almost falling without L’s arm giving him support. That was when he realized this had already gone too far. L had to die now, or Light had no idea what he would end up doing.
Almost shaking, the younger lied beside the other, hating how he could feel his presence, feel his heat, so close and yet so far. Even worse, he could feel L’s eyes on his back, watching him for clues or reactions. Light didn’t dare think about what exactly L had wanted kissing him, he just labeled it as a goodbye kiss. A farewell between two enemies who had grown to feel something akin to love towards one another.
He closed his eyes, but couldn’t seem to find sleep. For hours he just stayed there, reliving that short moment and telling himself he shouldn’t be wishing for more; shouldn’t be wishing for their lives to have been different. Because they wouldn’t be, and wishing so was just ridiculous.
When the night was almost completely gone, Light heard L’s breathing slowing considerably and, deeming it safe, turned to face him. The detective was sleeping, finally, his features troubled and yet holding a certain calmness to it. Slowly, tentatively, Light reached over and traced his eyebrows under the dark bangs of his hair.
At first he didn’t realize it, the words leaving his lips so silent, but Light started singing. “Somebody shine a light,” he started, like a prayer, his voice sounding thicker than it usually was. “I’m frozen by the fear in me. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me.” Light was begging, he knew that, but he just couldn’t help it. He wanted L to break his mask, was tired of having to bear everything on his own.
“So cut me from the line,” he continued. “Dizzy, spinning endlessly. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me.” It was a plea. L had tried it, and had almost succeeded it, he just needed one small push. And Light wanted to give it to him, even if only while he was asleep and couldn’t hear him. A death wish, per say.
Leaning closer to L’s ear, he whispered softly against it’s shell, “shatter me.” Oh, how wonderful it would be if L woke up at that very moment. But Light knew it was wishful thinking; whenever L did sleep, he did so heavily, and although he would wake up in no more than an hour, nothing could wake him but himself.
Light trailed his lips to L’s cheeks, brushed them softly against the pale skin, down, down, until they met L’s mouth. He didn’t dare touch them as he wanted to, instead just breathing L’s air. His hand imitated L’s earlier movements and met the detective’s cheek, fingers trailing the chiseled bones.
Staring at the closed eyes he had grown to admire, Light finished the song. “Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me,” he sang, closing his own eyes and pretending, just for a moment, that they were the only ones left in the world.
Later that day, Light found himself wishing the same thing as he held L’s lifeless body for one last time.