The Love Below - Chapter Thirteen
Title: The Love Below
Characters: L/Mello/Near; this chapter is Mello-centric
Rating: M
Word Count: ~4,000
Spoilers: For now, Mello and Near's real names. Possibly others along the way.
Summary: Mello and Near are competing for L's title. Are they also competing for his love?
Author’s Note:
Ok. I’ve been waiting to write this chapter since the whole fic began. It’s been a long time coming, I really hope I did it justice. This chapter follows directly from the first, with no breaks in time. I hope that cliffhanger hasn’t been too painful. :)
And if I might be pretentious enough to leave a dedication...This one is for you, lovebug. Now you won’t have to wait until Sunday evening. *hugs*
Also, there will be no closing notes to this chapter. I want your impressions at the end to be untainted by my own ramblings. :P
Please let me know your thoughts on this one. I’m incredibly anxious to hear how you feel about it. I wonder how many people will have expected what follows...
***
Chapter Thirteen - Immaculate Conception
“Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire.”
- T.S. Eliot, The Four Quartets
Later that night, Near found himself alone in the dining room with Mello. All the other students had eaten earlier, and he and Mello were the only two left.
They hadn’t argued, but they hadn’t talked civilly either. That dinner was spent in silence.
Near was poking listlessly at his potatoes when he heard the door creak open.
Mello gasped.
L was shuffling into the room, watching the floor as he moved. His hands were deep in his jeans pockets. When he came the edge of the table, he pulled one of them out and rubbed the molding absently.
“We need to talk,” he said.
***
Mello couldn’t believe his eyes. L never came to speak to him and Near. Not outside of his office. And he never spoke to them without announcing his intention to do so in advance. It was a rare occasion indeed that L would even be seen outside of his private rooms. And Mello and Near had had a meeting with him only hours ago.
But here he was, in the dining room. Standing at the head of the table, with Near sitting at his right and Mello at his left. He had no laptop to hide behind. No window to look out of. Instead of the soft glow of the office lamps, harsh fluorescent lights beat down on him. They cast rough shadows across his features, spikes from the shape of his hair, and made the circles under his eyes even darker.
Or maybe that was just a product of L’s anxiety. Mello could feel it radiating off of him in waves. He knew L was always under some kind of stress, his job being what it was. But this was different. Where he had always seemed solid and steadfast, L now seemed tired. Still resolute, but now...weary.
Mello turned his gaze from L and brought it to his own untouched dinner plate. Near’s plate was ahead of him as well. Apparently, Near too had lost his appetite tonight. He was staring intensely at L. Mello saw Near’s chest rise and fall, his breathing unusually quick.
Mello didn’t know why Near was so upset. L had just said that he wanted to talk, after all. But Mello did know that the information was important. Near was always stoic, sometimes to the point of catatonia. His labored breathing was the equivalent of a major breakdown.
Near must have known. Already, he must have known what L would say.
It was just a matter of L saying his piece, then, for Mello to know as well.
L was still stroking the molding at the table’s edge. He wasn’t looking across at Mello or at Near, but down at his fingers. Mello followed his gaze.
As they traced patterns on the wood, L’s fingers were shaking.
There was a large picture window on one wall of the room. Through it, Mello could see rain falling steadily. Huge drops collected on the window panes, some sticking to the glass and others rolling slowly down to the ground. The sound of the water striking the panels made the silence in the dining room all the more pronounced.
“We need to talk,” L repeated. He tore his hand from the molding, placing it on the back of the chair at the head of the table and pulling it out to sit. He folded his legs up against his chest as usual, hands resting on the tops of his knees.
“How...how do the two of you...envision a relationship with me?” asked L. There was a pause, and then L looked from Mello to Near and back again, apparently gauging their reactions to his question.
Near immediately responded. He caught L’s eyes and held them, shaking his head in a forceful ‘no.’ His black eyes were wide and imploring.
Mello had no idea what Near’s answer meant, but L seemed to receive the message. He gave a small sigh and nodded curtly before turning to Mello.
Mello was unafraid to give L a straight, clear answer.
“I want to be with you, L,” Mello said. “in any way you want me to be. That’s all.”
L nodded and gave another small sigh. “Both answers I expected. And both answers I feared,” he murmured to himself.
L was silent for a few beats, nibbling on his thumb thoughtfully. Mello watched him, and Near too, waiting for what would come next.
“Another question,” L later said. “In your minds, how does this relationship affect who will become L’s heir?”
Mello and Near answered as one. “It doesn’t.”
L looked up sharply. “How?” he demanded. “How can that be?”
It was unnerving to have all of L’s attention focused so intently. This must be a bit of what criminals saw when they looked at The World’s Greatest Detective. L was like a wolf on the hunt, the scent of prey caught and the final chase only moments away.
Mello looked at Near helplessly. Of course that wouldn’t affect the competition! The two were completely different! Instead of forming an answer to L’s question, all Mello could do was wonder how L could even consider such a thing.
When Near spoke, he did so while looking at the table, consternation written plainly on his face. “Because they’re both your decisions L. Who you choose in one area won’t affect who you choose in another. Not unless you let it. And we know that you won’t.”
L shook his head. “You place too much faith in me. I wouldn’t keep them separate. I couldn’t, because no one could.”
Neither Mello nor Near had anything to say to that. Outside, the rain fell harder.
“This is just one manifestation of the central problem.” L said. “You, both of you, see me without flaws. It is no surprise that you do; Wammy’s House has brought every child up to see L that way. But your close contact with me has not tempered that view, as I thought it would.”
L sighed. “I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but spending time with me has instead done the opposite.”
“I’m not perfect,” he went on. “I’m not. I’m not close. I’m ruthless. I’m dishonest. I’m selfish and arrogant and stubborn.”
L raised his thumb to his mouth and bit down hard on it. He continued, speaking around the digit. “I need you to understand this. You see a flawless man when you look at me, but what you see is an illusion. So when I say that I could never be impartial, believe it. I am arrogant, yes. But I’m not yet so arrogant that I think I could be strong enough for that.”
Mello began to fear that L would cut right through the skin, the way he was attacking his thumb. Had L ever done that before? Broken the skin and tasted blood on his tongue?
“I can’t do the simple thing,” L said, thumb still mercifully intact. “Catching the next plane out of the country would be easy. And it would be quick.”
Mello gasped in horror.
“I won’t, Mello,” said L patiently. “I won’t. The last time I did that, things didn’t go as planned anyway. I remember the results being disastrous, in fact. I learned my lesson. And, besides, I promised that I would never run from you both again.”
That was a relief. Mello’s eleventh year was positively dreadful. He had no desire to repeat the experience.
“But you see my dilemma. I can’t leave, and I certainly can’t give in to either of you. I can’t...and I won’t.”
“So that’s it then?” asked Mello. He didn’t want to speak the words, but they tumbled out from his mouth without his consent. Somewhere, some part of him had to know. “You don’t choose either of us? And you never will?”
“That’s correct.” L said, and Mello could almost feel his heart cleave in two. “I can’t choose either of you, and I never will.”
Tears welled in Mello’s eyes. L’s words sounded like a death knell. It was one thing for him to say no. But to say no and never...It was like ripping away hope itself.
Mello angrily brushed a tear from his cheek. It wasn’t right. Nobody cared about L the way that Mello did. Nobody. How could he ever content himself with chasing the man’s title now? Now, when all he really wanted was his heart?
But after one tear had fallen, all the rest seemed to follow. They spilled over Mello’s eyelids and slid down his cheeks, one after another, in a perverse march. Making his nose run and his breath hitch painfully. And no matter how he tried, all the calming exercises that Mello had ever read about did nothing to stem the flow.
Through his tears, Mello glanced at Near. He looked just as calm as Mello was not.
How could Near just sit there? Didn’t he claim to feel the same way about L that Mello did? L’s words should have hurt him as much as they did Mello, shouldn’t they? But there he sat, not a trace of sadness on his pale face. He didn’t look angry, or even disappointed. Near’s face gave away no emotion, except perhaps a peculiar cautiousness.
Suddenly, Mello heard L’s chair scrape the tiled floor. From the corner of his eye, Mello saw L stand up and bridge the gap between them, coming to kneel at Mello’s side. Mello turned to look at him and instantly his heart thudded painfully. He was plunged all the way back to the first day he’d seen L, all those years ago. It was right here in this dining room. Back then, Mello had looked into L’s eyes and believed that L understood him. And even now, that same understanding was reflected in L’s gaze. Mello gave a harsh sob at the realization.
L not only saw Mello’s pain, he was able to feel it as though it was his own.
L reached up and cradled Mello’s face in his hands. He passed his thumbs across the hollows underneath Mello’s eyes, pushing the tears aside.
“I can’t choose either of you,” L whispered, shaking his head helplessly. “I can’t choose.”
And then he pulled Mello’s head down, and raised his up, and brought their lips together.
It only lasted for a few seconds, just one mouth touching another’s. Then L pulled away. His hand’s fell away from Mello’s face and he sat back on his heels.
“Do you see now, Mello?” he asked.
“This is all that’s left,” L said. “The only option left. I can’t leave. I promised not to run again, and I won’t break my word. And I can’t keep refusing the both of you. I don’t know why I thought I could,” and here he gave a wry smile. “Your determination is one of the things I most sought for a successor. Neither of you will take no for answer, I know. Not if I protested for years. So that door is closed. And I can’t say yes to just one...it would ruin everything we’ve worked for all this time.”
L returned to his seat at the head of the table. He turned to Near, taking his hand and dropping a kiss on the knuckles.
“You knew before. Didn’t you, Near?” L asked.
Near nodded, making no move to remove his hand from L’s grasp. “I knew this is what you had in mind. The second you walked in, I knew.”
L nodded back. He squeezed Near’s hand before returning it to rest on the table.
“This is all that’s left,” he said. “I see what this is doing to the both of you. I will do what I can. I will do my best. It’s not at all the situation I want for you...especially you, Mello. You don’t need another affair like the one before. And even that aside, there is nothing remotely moral about this.”
“But we can’t continue as we have been,” L continued, sighing again. “My rejections are not keeping you safe. They’re hurting you, in every conceivable way. And...and this is all that’s left.”
L didn’t speak after that. He looked from Mello to Near and back again, seemingly waiting for one of them to do the talking now.
Mello didn’t know what to think. It was as if all his dreams had just shattered and come true at once.
L was agreeing, but with conditions. And the condition he’d put forward was the last one Mello would have wished for. Mello would have L...but so would Near.
In a flash, Mello came to understand something. This must be it. The reason Near would appear in his dreams. Whenever Mello would dream of L, Near was ever-present. It frustrated Mello entirely, because Near shouldn’t have been there. Mello didn’t want him. Mello didn’t even like him, after all. But now Mello understood.
Near was the key to L. Without Near, L would never be his.
But the thought of sharing L made Mello’s stomach turn. Mello didn’t want Near to be with L that way. He didn’t want anyone else to be with L but him. L was right, Mello thought. There was nothing remotely moral about the idea of the three of them together. It was wrong to share a person that way. People weren’t toys.
Mello was not so naive that he had never come across the idea of a person being used as a plaything, though. He’d heard of “bedbuddies” from some of the older orphans, seen them depicted in some of the movies that he and Matt watched in secret. The whole concept wasn’t new.
The concept of L in that capacity, however, was. It wasn’t just L’s body that Mello wanted. Mello wanted all of him, everything. And to split the man in half, keeping half for himself and giving half to Near...it wasn’t what Mello wanted at all.
Near seemed similarly unimpressed by the concept. He was twirling his hair around his index finger fiercely, studying the tabletop with narrowed eyes. Every few moments, he would look at L, and then at Mello, watching them sharply. He had yet to give any verbal answer to what L was proposing.
Mello sighed. His lungs still ached dully from his sobbing earlier.
He tried to picture what it would be like. Kissing L and then watching him turn his lips to Near. Seeing Near put his hands where Mello had only seconds before. Clinging to L and feeling Near do the same next to him. Would there be times when Mello was with L and Near wasn’t? Would Near be with L when Mello wasn’t? Would the three of them be together always? Would they all share a bed?
The picture was not a pleasant one. But it seemed to be the only way. It was either share L with Near indefinitely or have nothing of him at all.
There was only one question, then, left for Mello. Did he want L more than he wanted L away from Near?
His heart knew the answer to that question. L was paramount. Mello had been willing to make sacrifices for him since the very beginning. What was this but one more sacrifice?
If it meant even one more kiss, one more kiss like the one that still burned with a smoldering heat on his lips, Mello would agree.
And before he knew it, he was nodding the affirmation.
“Okay, L.” Mello said. “Okay.”
L nodded curtly back at him, apparently needing no more confirmation than that.
Near was not so quick to give his consent.
“How will this be, L?” he asked. He gave a few more sharp tugs to his lock of hair. “We will continue as we have been, only now you’ll kiss us on occasion?”
“If that’s what you want,” L answered weakly. “I’m trying to give you want. I can’t allow you to abandon the competition, so that will continue as it has been. And I can’t stop working. But when I have the time available, between cases maybe...I’ll spend it with the both of you.”
“Are you only doing this so that you’ll still have your successor?” Near huffed. “Do you just want both of us? Is one not good enough? How do you feel, really?”
L remained still in his chair, hands positioned firmly on the tops of his knees. He gave no answer.
Near sighed, shaking his head. “We are supposedly the children here, and yet we are the ones who can actually discuss this.”
He looked over to Mello. Mello stared as Near studied him, scrutinizing his expression. Mello had no idea what he was searching for.
“I suppose I have no choice,” Near finally said. “If I say no, I know that I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”
L gave to Near the same curt nod that he’d given to Mello.
“Wait!” Mello exclaimed. “How will you keep this even, L? What if I’m with you and Near is gone? What if Near’s with you and I’m gone?”
“I don’t think that will ever happen, Mello.” L said, with a kind of grim amusement. “I won’t be with either of you when the other is not present. If I were, I expect things would go very badly very quickly. Everything would be put into jeopardy.”
Mello nodded. He hoped that would be the case. It would be terrible to wonder what L had done with Near while Mello was not present. To wonder if L kissed Near with a greater passion, or held him with a tighter hold.
Mello heard the rain slow to a gentle, even beat outside. It was as though the weather knew that something inside the mansion had been resolved, and was now accommodating that mood.
Near climbed out of his chair - climbing was the right word, the chair was still a bit too large for his frame - and shuffled over to L. With L sitting and Near standing next to him, their faces were at exactly even heights.
L did nothing but wait as Near moved closer. As he watched, Mello tried to suppress the desire to insert himself between the two. Mello had agreed to this, and this was just the first of many instances in which he would have to witness Near and L together. If it was painful to see now, perhaps it would be less so as time went on.
But, illogical as it was, Mello didn’t want the pain to lessen. He hoped that what he was feeling now would never change, that it would hurt just as acutely and just as intensely forever. Because if the pain ever did become easier to bear, it would mean that Mello had become comfortable with seeing L with someone else. And even if it meant this terrible suffering, Mello never wanted that to happen.
So he sat in his chair, feeling an iron fist close over his heart, and watched as Near tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, and watched L do the same, and watched their lips meet.
It lasted longer than Mello’s kiss from L had. Mello found himself counting the seconds, one one-thousand...two one-thousand... By four one-thousand, Near’s jaw had widened by a fraction, and the kiss became both longer and less chaste than Mello’s.
As it went on, one of L’s hands crept up to Near’s temple. His fingers threaded through Near’s white hair, tightening only fractionally near the end. Mello’s stomach lurched with pain, but also, strangely, with arousal.
Though he was rapidly becoming disgusted with himself, Mello couldn’t look away. Near and L seemed so involved in each other as they kissed. Mello suddenly remembered that Near had a longer history with L than Mello himself had, and it showed in the way they were together now. They were both so easy with each other, Mello almost wondered if this wasn’t the first time they had done this.
L eventually pulled back, his eyes opening as soon as his lips separated from Near’s. Near stood motionless for a few moments. His eyes didn’t open until Mello’s chair scraped loudly against the floor.
Mello was determined not to be left on the sidelines. No way was L leaving tonight with the taste of Near on his mouth. He rushed to L’s side, ready to undo that damage.
Mello was taller than Near, so he was able to bend slightly. He laid his hands on L’s cheeks, mimicking the way that L had cradled his head earlier. Before, L was comforting Mello, stopping him from crying. But Mello recognized that he was not the only one hurting. L was troubled now as well. Mello wanted to help him. Wanted to care for him now.
So he tried to be as gentle and reassuring as possible with his kiss. It was difficult, because L’s lips were so warm now, so moist and slick. And Mello had been dreaming of doing this very thing with L for such a long time. Part of him only wanted to take and take and take from this kiss, and spare no thought for giving at all. But Mello would feel shallow if he couldn’t restrain his own desire. Especially now, when L needed support, when he would only be further burdened by Mello attacking him.
So Mello was as calm as he could be, moving his lips only minimally. He had no idea what to do, really. There was nothing in the library that explained French kissing. But his inexperience was probably for the best, Mello reflected. L didn’t need to be seduced with a fiery lip-lock like a girl in a romance novel. He needed simple touch, and the knowledge that Mello was mature enough to handle what he had proposed.
But as they went on, Mello found it harder and harder to maintain himself. Instead of getting used to the contact, Mello found himself being more and more excited by it. L didn’t taste of sugar. In his fantasies, Mello would kiss L and taste cherry or vanilla or Earl Grey tea. But L didn’t taste like much of anything now. It was the wetness and the heat of his mouth that Mello fixated on.
L’s tongue curled around his, and Mello heard himself make a needy sound in the back of his throat. His hands fell to L’s shirt, clutching the material in handfuls, almost without Mello’s conscious awareness. Mello pressed himself as close to L as he could, the arm of L’s chair becoming a barrier that was more irritating than any chair arm had the right to be.
Before he knew it, L mouth ripped away from his. Mello opened his eyes dazedly, finding L in front of him, breathing more shallowly than usual, eyes glassy.
“It’s getting late,” L said. His voice was rough (husky, Mello’s mind supplied, with a tiny thrill) and sounded like it was coming from far away. “I think it’s time that the both of you went to bed.”
Mello and Near protested this idea as best they could. They had only just begun! They hadn’t done anything yet! But L was resolute and would give in to none of their pleas.
He kissed both their cheeks and then sent them upstairs.
Characters: L/Mello/Near; this chapter is Mello-centric
Rating: M
Word Count: ~4,000
Spoilers: For now, Mello and Near's real names. Possibly others along the way.
Summary: Mello and Near are competing for L's title. Are they also competing for his love?
Author’s Note:
Ok. I’ve been waiting to write this chapter since the whole fic began. It’s been a long time coming, I really hope I did it justice. This chapter follows directly from the first, with no breaks in time. I hope that cliffhanger hasn’t been too painful. :)
And if I might be pretentious enough to leave a dedication...This one is for you, lovebug. Now you won’t have to wait until Sunday evening. *hugs*
Also, there will be no closing notes to this chapter. I want your impressions at the end to be untainted by my own ramblings. :P
Please let me know your thoughts on this one. I’m incredibly anxious to hear how you feel about it. I wonder how many people will have expected what follows...
***
Chapter Thirteen - Immaculate Conception
“Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire.”
- T.S. Eliot, The Four Quartets
Later that night, Near found himself alone in the dining room with Mello. All the other students had eaten earlier, and he and Mello were the only two left.
They hadn’t argued, but they hadn’t talked civilly either. That dinner was spent in silence.
Near was poking listlessly at his potatoes when he heard the door creak open.
Mello gasped.
L was shuffling into the room, watching the floor as he moved. His hands were deep in his jeans pockets. When he came the edge of the table, he pulled one of them out and rubbed the molding absently.
“We need to talk,” he said.
***
Mello couldn’t believe his eyes. L never came to speak to him and Near. Not outside of his office. And he never spoke to them without announcing his intention to do so in advance. It was a rare occasion indeed that L would even be seen outside of his private rooms. And Mello and Near had had a meeting with him only hours ago.
But here he was, in the dining room. Standing at the head of the table, with Near sitting at his right and Mello at his left. He had no laptop to hide behind. No window to look out of. Instead of the soft glow of the office lamps, harsh fluorescent lights beat down on him. They cast rough shadows across his features, spikes from the shape of his hair, and made the circles under his eyes even darker.
Or maybe that was just a product of L’s anxiety. Mello could feel it radiating off of him in waves. He knew L was always under some kind of stress, his job being what it was. But this was different. Where he had always seemed solid and steadfast, L now seemed tired. Still resolute, but now...weary.
Mello turned his gaze from L and brought it to his own untouched dinner plate. Near’s plate was ahead of him as well. Apparently, Near too had lost his appetite tonight. He was staring intensely at L. Mello saw Near’s chest rise and fall, his breathing unusually quick.
Mello didn’t know why Near was so upset. L had just said that he wanted to talk, after all. But Mello did know that the information was important. Near was always stoic, sometimes to the point of catatonia. His labored breathing was the equivalent of a major breakdown.
Near must have known. Already, he must have known what L would say.
It was just a matter of L saying his piece, then, for Mello to know as well.
L was still stroking the molding at the table’s edge. He wasn’t looking across at Mello or at Near, but down at his fingers. Mello followed his gaze.
As they traced patterns on the wood, L’s fingers were shaking.
There was a large picture window on one wall of the room. Through it, Mello could see rain falling steadily. Huge drops collected on the window panes, some sticking to the glass and others rolling slowly down to the ground. The sound of the water striking the panels made the silence in the dining room all the more pronounced.
“We need to talk,” L repeated. He tore his hand from the molding, placing it on the back of the chair at the head of the table and pulling it out to sit. He folded his legs up against his chest as usual, hands resting on the tops of his knees.
“How...how do the two of you...envision a relationship with me?” asked L. There was a pause, and then L looked from Mello to Near and back again, apparently gauging their reactions to his question.
Near immediately responded. He caught L’s eyes and held them, shaking his head in a forceful ‘no.’ His black eyes were wide and imploring.
Mello had no idea what Near’s answer meant, but L seemed to receive the message. He gave a small sigh and nodded curtly before turning to Mello.
Mello was unafraid to give L a straight, clear answer.
“I want to be with you, L,” Mello said. “in any way you want me to be. That’s all.”
L nodded and gave another small sigh. “Both answers I expected. And both answers I feared,” he murmured to himself.
L was silent for a few beats, nibbling on his thumb thoughtfully. Mello watched him, and Near too, waiting for what would come next.
“Another question,” L later said. “In your minds, how does this relationship affect who will become L’s heir?”
Mello and Near answered as one. “It doesn’t.”
L looked up sharply. “How?” he demanded. “How can that be?”
It was unnerving to have all of L’s attention focused so intently. This must be a bit of what criminals saw when they looked at The World’s Greatest Detective. L was like a wolf on the hunt, the scent of prey caught and the final chase only moments away.
Mello looked at Near helplessly. Of course that wouldn’t affect the competition! The two were completely different! Instead of forming an answer to L’s question, all Mello could do was wonder how L could even consider such a thing.
When Near spoke, he did so while looking at the table, consternation written plainly on his face. “Because they’re both your decisions L. Who you choose in one area won’t affect who you choose in another. Not unless you let it. And we know that you won’t.”
L shook his head. “You place too much faith in me. I wouldn’t keep them separate. I couldn’t, because no one could.”
Neither Mello nor Near had anything to say to that. Outside, the rain fell harder.
“This is just one manifestation of the central problem.” L said. “You, both of you, see me without flaws. It is no surprise that you do; Wammy’s House has brought every child up to see L that way. But your close contact with me has not tempered that view, as I thought it would.”
L sighed. “I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but spending time with me has instead done the opposite.”
“I’m not perfect,” he went on. “I’m not. I’m not close. I’m ruthless. I’m dishonest. I’m selfish and arrogant and stubborn.”
L raised his thumb to his mouth and bit down hard on it. He continued, speaking around the digit. “I need you to understand this. You see a flawless man when you look at me, but what you see is an illusion. So when I say that I could never be impartial, believe it. I am arrogant, yes. But I’m not yet so arrogant that I think I could be strong enough for that.”
Mello began to fear that L would cut right through the skin, the way he was attacking his thumb. Had L ever done that before? Broken the skin and tasted blood on his tongue?
“I can’t do the simple thing,” L said, thumb still mercifully intact. “Catching the next plane out of the country would be easy. And it would be quick.”
Mello gasped in horror.
“I won’t, Mello,” said L patiently. “I won’t. The last time I did that, things didn’t go as planned anyway. I remember the results being disastrous, in fact. I learned my lesson. And, besides, I promised that I would never run from you both again.”
That was a relief. Mello’s eleventh year was positively dreadful. He had no desire to repeat the experience.
“But you see my dilemma. I can’t leave, and I certainly can’t give in to either of you. I can’t...and I won’t.”
“So that’s it then?” asked Mello. He didn’t want to speak the words, but they tumbled out from his mouth without his consent. Somewhere, some part of him had to know. “You don’t choose either of us? And you never will?”
“That’s correct.” L said, and Mello could almost feel his heart cleave in two. “I can’t choose either of you, and I never will.”
Tears welled in Mello’s eyes. L’s words sounded like a death knell. It was one thing for him to say no. But to say no and never...It was like ripping away hope itself.
Mello angrily brushed a tear from his cheek. It wasn’t right. Nobody cared about L the way that Mello did. Nobody. How could he ever content himself with chasing the man’s title now? Now, when all he really wanted was his heart?
But after one tear had fallen, all the rest seemed to follow. They spilled over Mello’s eyelids and slid down his cheeks, one after another, in a perverse march. Making his nose run and his breath hitch painfully. And no matter how he tried, all the calming exercises that Mello had ever read about did nothing to stem the flow.
Through his tears, Mello glanced at Near. He looked just as calm as Mello was not.
How could Near just sit there? Didn’t he claim to feel the same way about L that Mello did? L’s words should have hurt him as much as they did Mello, shouldn’t they? But there he sat, not a trace of sadness on his pale face. He didn’t look angry, or even disappointed. Near’s face gave away no emotion, except perhaps a peculiar cautiousness.
Suddenly, Mello heard L’s chair scrape the tiled floor. From the corner of his eye, Mello saw L stand up and bridge the gap between them, coming to kneel at Mello’s side. Mello turned to look at him and instantly his heart thudded painfully. He was plunged all the way back to the first day he’d seen L, all those years ago. It was right here in this dining room. Back then, Mello had looked into L’s eyes and believed that L understood him. And even now, that same understanding was reflected in L’s gaze. Mello gave a harsh sob at the realization.
L not only saw Mello’s pain, he was able to feel it as though it was his own.
L reached up and cradled Mello’s face in his hands. He passed his thumbs across the hollows underneath Mello’s eyes, pushing the tears aside.
“I can’t choose either of you,” L whispered, shaking his head helplessly. “I can’t choose.”
And then he pulled Mello’s head down, and raised his up, and brought their lips together.
It only lasted for a few seconds, just one mouth touching another’s. Then L pulled away. His hand’s fell away from Mello’s face and he sat back on his heels.
“Do you see now, Mello?” he asked.
“This is all that’s left,” L said. “The only option left. I can’t leave. I promised not to run again, and I won’t break my word. And I can’t keep refusing the both of you. I don’t know why I thought I could,” and here he gave a wry smile. “Your determination is one of the things I most sought for a successor. Neither of you will take no for answer, I know. Not if I protested for years. So that door is closed. And I can’t say yes to just one...it would ruin everything we’ve worked for all this time.”
L returned to his seat at the head of the table. He turned to Near, taking his hand and dropping a kiss on the knuckles.
“You knew before. Didn’t you, Near?” L asked.
Near nodded, making no move to remove his hand from L’s grasp. “I knew this is what you had in mind. The second you walked in, I knew.”
L nodded back. He squeezed Near’s hand before returning it to rest on the table.
“This is all that’s left,” he said. “I see what this is doing to the both of you. I will do what I can. I will do my best. It’s not at all the situation I want for you...especially you, Mello. You don’t need another affair like the one before. And even that aside, there is nothing remotely moral about this.”
“But we can’t continue as we have been,” L continued, sighing again. “My rejections are not keeping you safe. They’re hurting you, in every conceivable way. And...and this is all that’s left.”
L didn’t speak after that. He looked from Mello to Near and back again, seemingly waiting for one of them to do the talking now.
Mello didn’t know what to think. It was as if all his dreams had just shattered and come true at once.
L was agreeing, but with conditions. And the condition he’d put forward was the last one Mello would have wished for. Mello would have L...but so would Near.
In a flash, Mello came to understand something. This must be it. The reason Near would appear in his dreams. Whenever Mello would dream of L, Near was ever-present. It frustrated Mello entirely, because Near shouldn’t have been there. Mello didn’t want him. Mello didn’t even like him, after all. But now Mello understood.
Near was the key to L. Without Near, L would never be his.
But the thought of sharing L made Mello’s stomach turn. Mello didn’t want Near to be with L that way. He didn’t want anyone else to be with L but him. L was right, Mello thought. There was nothing remotely moral about the idea of the three of them together. It was wrong to share a person that way. People weren’t toys.
Mello was not so naive that he had never come across the idea of a person being used as a plaything, though. He’d heard of “bedbuddies” from some of the older orphans, seen them depicted in some of the movies that he and Matt watched in secret. The whole concept wasn’t new.
The concept of L in that capacity, however, was. It wasn’t just L’s body that Mello wanted. Mello wanted all of him, everything. And to split the man in half, keeping half for himself and giving half to Near...it wasn’t what Mello wanted at all.
Near seemed similarly unimpressed by the concept. He was twirling his hair around his index finger fiercely, studying the tabletop with narrowed eyes. Every few moments, he would look at L, and then at Mello, watching them sharply. He had yet to give any verbal answer to what L was proposing.
Mello sighed. His lungs still ached dully from his sobbing earlier.
He tried to picture what it would be like. Kissing L and then watching him turn his lips to Near. Seeing Near put his hands where Mello had only seconds before. Clinging to L and feeling Near do the same next to him. Would there be times when Mello was with L and Near wasn’t? Would Near be with L when Mello wasn’t? Would the three of them be together always? Would they all share a bed?
The picture was not a pleasant one. But it seemed to be the only way. It was either share L with Near indefinitely or have nothing of him at all.
There was only one question, then, left for Mello. Did he want L more than he wanted L away from Near?
His heart knew the answer to that question. L was paramount. Mello had been willing to make sacrifices for him since the very beginning. What was this but one more sacrifice?
If it meant even one more kiss, one more kiss like the one that still burned with a smoldering heat on his lips, Mello would agree.
And before he knew it, he was nodding the affirmation.
“Okay, L.” Mello said. “Okay.”
L nodded curtly back at him, apparently needing no more confirmation than that.
Near was not so quick to give his consent.
“How will this be, L?” he asked. He gave a few more sharp tugs to his lock of hair. “We will continue as we have been, only now you’ll kiss us on occasion?”
“If that’s what you want,” L answered weakly. “I’m trying to give you want. I can’t allow you to abandon the competition, so that will continue as it has been. And I can’t stop working. But when I have the time available, between cases maybe...I’ll spend it with the both of you.”
“Are you only doing this so that you’ll still have your successor?” Near huffed. “Do you just want both of us? Is one not good enough? How do you feel, really?”
L remained still in his chair, hands positioned firmly on the tops of his knees. He gave no answer.
Near sighed, shaking his head. “We are supposedly the children here, and yet we are the ones who can actually discuss this.”
He looked over to Mello. Mello stared as Near studied him, scrutinizing his expression. Mello had no idea what he was searching for.
“I suppose I have no choice,” Near finally said. “If I say no, I know that I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”
L gave to Near the same curt nod that he’d given to Mello.
“Wait!” Mello exclaimed. “How will you keep this even, L? What if I’m with you and Near is gone? What if Near’s with you and I’m gone?”
“I don’t think that will ever happen, Mello.” L said, with a kind of grim amusement. “I won’t be with either of you when the other is not present. If I were, I expect things would go very badly very quickly. Everything would be put into jeopardy.”
Mello nodded. He hoped that would be the case. It would be terrible to wonder what L had done with Near while Mello was not present. To wonder if L kissed Near with a greater passion, or held him with a tighter hold.
Mello heard the rain slow to a gentle, even beat outside. It was as though the weather knew that something inside the mansion had been resolved, and was now accommodating that mood.
Near climbed out of his chair - climbing was the right word, the chair was still a bit too large for his frame - and shuffled over to L. With L sitting and Near standing next to him, their faces were at exactly even heights.
L did nothing but wait as Near moved closer. As he watched, Mello tried to suppress the desire to insert himself between the two. Mello had agreed to this, and this was just the first of many instances in which he would have to witness Near and L together. If it was painful to see now, perhaps it would be less so as time went on.
But, illogical as it was, Mello didn’t want the pain to lessen. He hoped that what he was feeling now would never change, that it would hurt just as acutely and just as intensely forever. Because if the pain ever did become easier to bear, it would mean that Mello had become comfortable with seeing L with someone else. And even if it meant this terrible suffering, Mello never wanted that to happen.
So he sat in his chair, feeling an iron fist close over his heart, and watched as Near tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, and watched L do the same, and watched their lips meet.
It lasted longer than Mello’s kiss from L had. Mello found himself counting the seconds, one one-thousand...two one-thousand... By four one-thousand, Near’s jaw had widened by a fraction, and the kiss became both longer and less chaste than Mello’s.
As it went on, one of L’s hands crept up to Near’s temple. His fingers threaded through Near’s white hair, tightening only fractionally near the end. Mello’s stomach lurched with pain, but also, strangely, with arousal.
Though he was rapidly becoming disgusted with himself, Mello couldn’t look away. Near and L seemed so involved in each other as they kissed. Mello suddenly remembered that Near had a longer history with L than Mello himself had, and it showed in the way they were together now. They were both so easy with each other, Mello almost wondered if this wasn’t the first time they had done this.
L eventually pulled back, his eyes opening as soon as his lips separated from Near’s. Near stood motionless for a few moments. His eyes didn’t open until Mello’s chair scraped loudly against the floor.
Mello was determined not to be left on the sidelines. No way was L leaving tonight with the taste of Near on his mouth. He rushed to L’s side, ready to undo that damage.
Mello was taller than Near, so he was able to bend slightly. He laid his hands on L’s cheeks, mimicking the way that L had cradled his head earlier. Before, L was comforting Mello, stopping him from crying. But Mello recognized that he was not the only one hurting. L was troubled now as well. Mello wanted to help him. Wanted to care for him now.
So he tried to be as gentle and reassuring as possible with his kiss. It was difficult, because L’s lips were so warm now, so moist and slick. And Mello had been dreaming of doing this very thing with L for such a long time. Part of him only wanted to take and take and take from this kiss, and spare no thought for giving at all. But Mello would feel shallow if he couldn’t restrain his own desire. Especially now, when L needed support, when he would only be further burdened by Mello attacking him.
So Mello was as calm as he could be, moving his lips only minimally. He had no idea what to do, really. There was nothing in the library that explained French kissing. But his inexperience was probably for the best, Mello reflected. L didn’t need to be seduced with a fiery lip-lock like a girl in a romance novel. He needed simple touch, and the knowledge that Mello was mature enough to handle what he had proposed.
But as they went on, Mello found it harder and harder to maintain himself. Instead of getting used to the contact, Mello found himself being more and more excited by it. L didn’t taste of sugar. In his fantasies, Mello would kiss L and taste cherry or vanilla or Earl Grey tea. But L didn’t taste like much of anything now. It was the wetness and the heat of his mouth that Mello fixated on.
L’s tongue curled around his, and Mello heard himself make a needy sound in the back of his throat. His hands fell to L’s shirt, clutching the material in handfuls, almost without Mello’s conscious awareness. Mello pressed himself as close to L as he could, the arm of L’s chair becoming a barrier that was more irritating than any chair arm had the right to be.
Before he knew it, L mouth ripped away from his. Mello opened his eyes dazedly, finding L in front of him, breathing more shallowly than usual, eyes glassy.
“It’s getting late,” L said. His voice was rough (husky, Mello’s mind supplied, with a tiny thrill) and sounded like it was coming from far away. “I think it’s time that the both of you went to bed.”
Mello and Near protested this idea as best they could. They had only just begun! They hadn’t done anything yet! But L was resolute and would give in to none of their pleas.
He kissed both their cheeks and then sent them upstairs.