The Love Below - Chapter Fourteen
Title: The Love Below
Characters: L/Mello/Near; this chapter is Near-centric
Rating: M
Word Count: ~6,000
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:
Hmmm....what to say about this one? I suppose I should let you all know that this chapter was written in a method that is very unlike the one I usually use. Usually, I have a strict outline. Events that must be depicted, and in what order, and how, etc. I used an outline with this chapter too, but only after a sizable piece of it was finished. Nothing that I had planned for the story as whole was changed in the end, though.
I hope the length of this chapter will make up for the appalling amount of time it took for me to write it. There are six thousand words here. DX
Anyway, we are back to Near’s point of view now. I myself was very happy about it; writing cool, logical Near felt like coming home after Mello’s emotionality last chapter. Although...this effect may lessen in the future; Near could be beginning to lose some of that Ice Prince-y quality…
Enjoy!
***
Chapter Fourteen - Stifled Practice
“By starving emotions, we become humorless, rigid, and stereotyped; by repressing them we become literal, reformatory, and holier-than-thou; encouraged, they perfume life; discouraged, they poison it.”
- Dr. Joseph Collins
For the first time in his life, Near felt stupid. Admittedly, Near’s definition of stupid was vastly different from the general population’s definition. To the average person, the word ‘stupid’ meant mentally deficient. A brain capable of less than a normal person’s. To Near, ‘stupid’ was a normal person’s brain.
For example, a normal person would not be expected to find the square root of 733 in an instant. No one would frown on the average Tom, Dick, or Larry for picking up a calculator to find the answer.
But Near’s hand shook with frustration as he punched the keys.
Near was a genius. Some might even call him a genius among genii. He routinely performed feats of mental capacity that made others around him ooh and ahh with astonishment. Even when the others were well above average themselves. In every class Near had ever taken, he left his classmates in the dust. Near was reading Shakespeare at four, studying Newtonian physics at seven.
And here he sat, needing help to solve a problem of simple arithmetic.
To say that Near didn’t like it would be a huge understatement. Near valued his intelligence above any other quality he possessed. He used it as both shield and spear, wrapped it around himself like a security blanket. Every day of his life, Near relied on his mind. To find it failing him was nothing short of infuriating.
27.0739727
Near stared at the numbers on his calculator screen with a flat disgust. Nate River, the smartest child at Wammy’s Institute. How the mighty had fallen.
Gradually, Near’s attention was turned back to his classroom. His teacher was discussing some obscure branch of calculus, pontificating wildly and brandishing his pointer.
Near couldn’t even pretend to follow the lecture. What was the point? Clearly today was not Near’s day for intellectual growth.
L would smile and shake his head if he saw Near now. He would explain that of course Near was still intelligent, there was nothing to be upset about. Everyone’s brain draws blanks on occasion. Near would be right back to his old self again quite soon. Then L would stuff a lollipop into his mouth and wander away.
L. Near hadn’t lost so much of his intelligence yet that he couldn’t understand what was happening. It was happening right now, after all. Under his very nose.
L was driving Near to distraction. He would pop into Near’s head at the slightest provocation. Looking at any dessert, for example, immediately conjured up L’s image. Laptop computers. Baggy jeans. Sometimes, Near would read something and wonder what L would think about the idea before he wondered what he himself thought about it.
That last bit was particularly galling. Near was not used to putting others before himself.
Instead of remaining the place for creating, processing, and storing ideas that it had always been, Near’s mind was rapidly becoming a playground. A playground in which all the swing sets, monkey bars, slides, and merry-go-rounds were devoted to a single messy-haired, pale-skinned, emaciated detective.
Near was under no illusions about the situation. L was the reason for his recent foray into stupidity.
No...that wasn’t accurate. The thought of L was the reason for Near’s recent foray into stupidity. The man himself was not invading Near’s mind, after all. (And what a gruesome image it would be if he were.) L was probably in his office right now, far away from Near’s calculus classroom. It was only the idea of him that was close, shooting between the spaces of Near’s neurons and permeating the area of his brain.
The idea of someone else taking control of his mind made Near angry. It was Near’s mind - no one should govern it but Near himself. The thought of someone else coming in and setting up shop made Near’s skin crawl. And even the idea that he was angry about it made Near angrier. His consciousness was rapidly becoming a chaotic spiral. Near would be thinking about something, something important, and then L’s eyes or L’s hands or L’s mouth would enter the picture and sweep everything away.
He felt disordered and vulnerable, and both feelings were ones that Near despised. If not for the presence of his classmates and his teacher, Near would be clawing at the walls this very second. He felt miserable like this.
But at the same time...
At the same time, Near was the happiest he had ever felt. There was a glow inside of him. He was conscious of it wherever he went, a warm weight in his chest that was surprisingly dynamic, changing and shifting like quicksilver. It swelled spectacularly when he thought of L’s smile. Rose buoyantly and warmed when Near considered those times he had hugged him. Smoldered with the heat of a banked fire when Near considered doing more than hugging...
Yes, Near could feel the change very palpably. To go along with the changes in his mind, there were no shortage of physical changes as well. It was when Near cast his mind back to that night in the dining room that those changes were worst. Sometimes when he thought about it, Near’s stomach swooped violently, almost as if he was going to be sick. But the swoop was pleasant. Of all the things that had happened that night, Near of course focused on L’s kiss most. And when it had happened...when their lips had finally met...it was with a feeling unlike anything Near had ever known. Such a delicious feeling it was - like Near had everything he could possibly want and yet at the same time anticipate so much more.
It was clear that Near’s happiness had changed him. A few days ago, about two weeks after that momentous night in the dining room, Near had found that one of his model trains had gone missing. It was his absolute favorite: a shiny red one, with silver plated window-latches and chrome wheels. Near had no idea how he could have misplaced the thing and he searched and searched for it. He looked not only in his room but also in the library and his classrooms as well. He couldn’t find the train anywhere. But instead of becoming frustrated, Near simply shrugged to himself. Near had L now. How could he possibly be upset over a toy?
There was one thing that Near could be upset about, and that was Mello. But Near refused to think of him. Letting his mind become consumed with L was one thing. Thinking about L was pleasant, at least. But Near would be damned if he spent one minute of his day with Mello on his mind. Near had agreed to the arrangement that L proposed - despite his misgivings - and he would live with that decision. If he let himself, Near knew he would worry continuously about the threat Mello posed. He would obsess over how much L really felt for him, or didn’t feel. But Near refused to do so. There was nothing he would gain by worrying.
Near wouldn’t even let himself consider any strategy for pushing Mello away. L had told Near that he needed to be nothing but what he was, and Near had taken it to heart. From now on, when Near was with L, he would only be himself. And being himself required no strategizing or planning. L would either like what Near was or he wouldn’t. Besides, Near knew that he could not continue to pretend be someone else forever. His true colors would show sooner or later...and if L had come to like him when they hadn’t, what would he think about Near when they finally did? Being himself was the right thing to do.
Being himself would work. It had to.
***
On the day of the meeting, Near put on a watch. It was the first time he ever had; Near didn’t particularly care for them. He had no need to know the exact time at any given instant during his day. Near trusted his internal clock enough to get him where he needed to be whenever he needed to be there. Near had always been confident in it. His internal clock had never failed him before.
But today...today Near was not so confident. He was counting on making it to L’s office early, at least fifteen minutes before the time that L had specified. Doing so was of the utmost importance. If Near was late, or even just on time, Mello would be sure to have greeted L before him. And that scenario was to be avoided at all costs. Near knew what Mello’s idea of a “greeting” would be...precisely because he himself had the very same idea. Near didn’t know why he suddenly had less than complete trust in himself, all he knew was that he did. So to make absolutely sure that he was in L’s office first, Near had strapped two bands of leather and a timepiece onto his wrist. The watch itched a little, but Near thought the discomfort was worth it.
It was now twenty-two minutes before three o’clock, L’s appointed time to meet. Near gave the model airplane in his hand one last go-round, then dropped it onto his bed and left his room. Some part of him was fighting to stay inside the safety of the place. A little voice in his head whispered about how much more secure Near would be there, and how uncertain his next few hours would be if he went away. How much could go wrong if he made he slightest mistake. But Near squashed that part of him down viciously. Now was not the time to indulge his anti-social tendencies.
As he climbed the stairs, Near made an effort to stand as straight and tall as he could. He consciously picked up his feet as he walked instead of moving along with his usual shuffling step. He had read somewhere that presenting oneself as a confident person could actually create confidence in times of uncertainty. Near didn’t know whether that was true or not, but he figured that trying it out couldn’t hurt.
When he reached the top of the stairs, Near checked his watch. 2:45 pm on the dot. He was exactly fifteen minutes early. The door to L’s office was just down the hall, right in the corner. He had done it.
Near looked up from his watch, ready to cut a path directly to L. But when he did...he realized that getting to L might be more difficult than he had originally anticipated.
Directly across from the stairway that Near had just climbed there was another stairway, an exact reflection of the first. And in the exact middle of that staircase stood Mello. He was wearing all black again, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked as shocked as Near felt.
For a split second, the pair of them stared at each other. Neither spoke. Time seemed to stop, and all was quiet in the corridor. And then bam! Near realized what he was doing. From the expression on Mello’s face, it looked like the same realization had slammed into him too. As one, they took off down the hallway.
Near knew that Mello had an edge. Breathing hard after going only halfway, he looked right and saw Mello just a hair ahead of him, looking frantic but still physically comfortable. To combat his disadvantage, Near deliberately ran at angle. The right side of his body hit Mello’s and knocked him off course.
“Dammit, Near!” Mello shouted, dropping his backpack. Instead of stopping to pick it up, Mello left it where it lay, regaining his stride and pushing back against Near in retaliation.
After that, it was a fierce race to the finish. Both of them rammed into each other every few steps, hoping to knock the other down but never really succeeding.
Mello reached L’s door first, but before he could wrench it open, Near’s hands got a handle on the knob. He and Mello fought hard to get a proper grip and fought hard to push the other out of the way as well. In the back of his mind, Near absently recognized how ridiculous their scuffle must have looked.
That didn’t stop him from continuing in it.
Eventually Near did manage to yank the door open. As he pulled the door forward, he tried to push it back against Mello and ensure a clear path to L for himself. Mello was quicker than Near anticipated, though, and he maneuvered away from the door just in time to squeeze into the frame along with Near. After some more squabbling, the both of them popped into the room and another mad dash ensued.
L was in his usual place at his desk. Rays of red-gold sunlight shining around him from the window to his right. L was the picture of thoughtfulness, staring at his laptop and drinking from a teacup. He looked completely unprepared to have two pubescent young boys flying at him.
Near threw himself at L in the same moment that Mello did, and in all the commotion, neither of them could find his lips. They were each forced to kiss whichever bit of L they could reach. Near hit L’s shoulder first, then his neck. He eventually managed to touch his lips to L’s cheek, and that was good, but that was also where the fun ended.
Near realized that he had heard muffled sounds as he was fighting to kiss L. Originally he had assumed that they were caused by Mello and his frustration at being thwarted. But now Near realized that they were instead caused by L and his frustration. L was pushing the two of them away, backing away in his chair as he did so. He didn’t look angry...but neither did he look pleased. He gave a sigh and ran one hand through the black spikes of his hair, pushing him into further disarray.
“I don’t think this is the time, boys,” L said. His voice was firm. “I haven’t forgotten what we’ve agreed to, but you also cannot forget what we need to accomplish. I need an heir...and I need you both to remember that now.”
Near was disgusted with himself. Of course L wouldn’t appreciate being mauled the very second that Near saw him. Near’s plan to reach L first was a bad one. He should have left Mello to that, should have let Mello do his damage, and then walked in calmly and greeted L with dignity. Now, Near looked no better than his competition.
But no matter. Near’s blunder wasn’t the end of the world. He could make up for it later.
Near and Mello took their seats in front of L’s desk. By now, Near had grown accustomed to the worn leather of the upholstery and the brass domes along the arms. He curled one leg up onto his seat and was comfortable.
L returned his chair to its original place behind his laptop. Instead of sitting down in it again, though, he ducked down to the floor, hidden from sight. Near wondered what L could be doing. He heard the rustling of crisp paper and then saw L emerge from behind the desk. In his hands were two packets of loose paper.
From across the desk, L passed the packet in his right hand to Near and the one in his left to Mello. When Near looked down at it, he saw block letters printed in black.
In the top center was L’s gothic-font insignia. Just underneath that were the words Special Services and Duties - Assistant.
“I have two tasks to accomplish in today’s meeting,” said L. “First, I would like to familiarize both of you with some of the more practical aspects of L. I have an assistant, as you know - Mr. Wammy, who also happens to be the founder of this institute. The papers in your hands outline some of what he does for me and how he operates while maintaining the secret of my identity.”
Near flipped through the pages quickly. He saw long, detailed outlines, and caught words like “procedure” and “maintenance.” He felt his interest in the proceedings begin to wane. In fact, it had been steadily dropping ever since L had mentioned practicality. Near had no interest in being practical. Not in his own life and not with L either.
“Secondly,” L continued. “I want to question you about some of your philosophies. Those that would directly affect you in your work as a detective. I feel that this is an area in which I have been sorely negligent.”
From the corner of his eye, Near saw Mello fidget in his seat. The packet of papers that L had given him were already lying forgotten on the arm of his chair.
“So,” L said authoritatively. “To begin. If you’ll both turn to page two…”
Near almost couldn’t believe what followed. L gave him and Mello an explanation of his assistant’s duties and responsibilities, page by page. He went over Mr. Wammy’s living situation, how he planned L’s travel arrangements, where and when he shopped for L, when he met with national police agencies, how he contacted them, the manner in which he accepted and rejected cases, how he and L communicated when they were apart from one another…L did everything but read the packet to them verbatim.
Near never thought that L could be boring, but this was pushing things. Near wouldn’t let himself show his impatience, and he tried to look as interested in the proceedings as he could. Twenty minutes into the meeting, though, he was ready for it to end. Near didn’t have to look at Mello to tell that he felt the same. Mello had been sighing, shifting, and coughing ever since L began detailing Mr. Wammy’s wide network of government contacts (it stretched across five continents and thirty-seven countries).
Shaking himself mentally, Near forced himself to refocus on L’s words.
“On page nineteen,” L was saying, “you will each find a list of the airlines that Mr. Wammy prefers. Many of them offer their services free of charge, in exchange for control of a few key patents he owns. When the time comes for L’s successor to take over, I imagine that Mr. Wammy himself will be retired…but the next assistant - whenever you select them - will surely want to maintain the connections he has nurtured. British Airways in particular…”
Just when Near was feeling his attention slipping once again, he heard a sound from his right. It was Mello. Near turned to look at him and saw that his expression exactly matched the noise he’d made: it was pained and pleading.
“Is something the matter, Mello?” L asked. He looked up from his computer, making eye contact for the first time in ten minutes.
In addition to looking pained, Mello now looked appalled. He stared open-mouthed at L for a time before finding it in himself to speak.
“I...well…” Mello said, sounding like he was searching for the right words. “Maybe we’ve focused enough on assistants for now?”
Near wanted to hate Mello for implying that L was boring him. He really did. But he found that the only feeling in him at the moment was thankfulness. Near didn’t know how much longer he could have listened to L point out every nuance and subtlety of Quillish Wammy’s bakery shopping. Near didn’t care about how he got a fifty percent discount on some American bakery’s scones.
It wasn’t even just the topic - though that was definitely a large part of Near’s boredom. It was that L himself called attention away from his words. Near was sure that he was unaware of it, too. Which only served to make the distraction that much more potent. L wasn’t trying to call attention to his lips by sipping from that teacup. He wasn’t trying to accentuate his white neck by swallowing so languidly. He wasn’t trying to fill Near’s head with thoughts worthy of a person far beyond his years. And yet he did so anyway.
Near shouldn’t have been surprised; L drove him to distraction even when he wasn’t four feet away.
But Near still hadn’t gotten used to the sensations that L inspired in him. Being with him, here in person, only made the effects worse. The warm weight in his chest seemed to have grown legs. Near could feel it pacing anxiously inside of him, flexing its claws and tossing its head back and forth impatiently.
“Hmm…” L murmured, turning back to his laptop screen. His eyebrows came together slightly and a small frown appeared at his mouth. He looked somehow discouraged. “Perhaps you are correct. Let’s turn to the second reason that I wanted to meet with the two of you today.”
Near tried to calm himself. He sat up straighter in his chair, taking a deep breath. He had a job to do here. He still wanted L’s position, didn’t he? He needed to focus, or Mello would snatch victory out from underneath his feet.
It would be easier if L would go away for awhile, though. Even though he had returned to denying eye contact…even though he was clearly business-minded now…Near couldn’t look away from him.
“I really only have two questions,” said L. “The first concerns your methods. You undoubtedly know that a detective relies on observation primarily. When that fails, however, he must turn to interrogation. There is not a criminal in the world who does not try to hide his wrongdoing - at least for time. It will be your job to uncover the truth of his actions, and for that you will often need to question him or his acquaintances. My question is this: what methods do you use to persuade him to speak?”
Mello answered promptly. “Whatever works.” he said.
Near reflected for a moment before giving his answer. “Agreed,” he said. “Whatever works.”
Staring at the top of his desk intently, L cocked his ear. “You both agree on this. Interesting. And neither of you are bothered by the implications of your answers? Torture, for example, doesn’t give you pause? Not coercion or extortion either?”
It took a moment for Near to rein his mind in enough to process L’s questions. And a moment more for him to construct a suitable answer.
“As L…” Near began. “As L, we wouldn’t be dealing with criminals who had stolen from drugstores or lied about their taxes. We would be dealing with the world’s worst. And to stop them, nothing should be off limits.”
“I see,” L said, sounding like he didn’t see at all. “And Mello, do you agree?”
Mello gave one sharp nod. “Yes. We can’t have limits. If we did, we might miss cases. Miss some criminals along the way.”
L was silent for a few seconds.
“I see,” he said again. “Now for the second question. This one is considerably more open-ended. I wonder if either of you have ever considered it before…Is there anything that would make you end your work as L once you started? Anything at all? Put another way, do you believe you could function as the world’s best detective under any circumstances?”
Near hadn’t ever considered the question before. Was there anything that would cause him to quit being L? He had no idea. He didn’t think that there was…but he wasn’t sure. How was he to know with certainty that he could do L’s job under any circumstances? He didn’t even know if he could do L’s job under the current circumstances.
What answer would L appreciate in his heir more? Would L be impressed by Near’s confidence if Near said that he could be L at any time, any where? And would he be disappointed if Near voiced reservations about his capabilities? Or would L be impressed by Near’s humility if he thought that there might be times when the job was too much for him? Would he be disappointed if Near was arrogant enough to say anything else?
Near couldn’t know. And he really didn’t care to give much thought to the question anyway. There were other things that he was looking forward to when this meeting was over…he wanted it finished as quickly as possible.
So Near decided to tell the truth. He didn’t have any basis to do anything else. Even if his answer wasn’t what L wanted, at least his honesty would count for something.
“I don’t know,” Near said. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either,” said Mello hurriedly. He scooted forward in his chair, looking ready to leap out of it at the first available opportunity.
L looked up at the pair of them. Near expected him to smirk or sigh at Mello’s obvious eagerness, but instead L’s eyes turned to Near himself. Near was met with the piercing black of them, so very like his own, and yet so very different. Near didn’t know why L was looking at him so purposefully. Did he look less composed than he thought he did? Was it possible that Near’s desire was even more obvious than Mello’s was?
When L finally looked away from Near, his jaw was set resolutely. He looked across to Mello and held his eyes for a time, though it was for a shorter time than he had done so with Near.
Then L returned his gaze to his computer. “I think today’s meeting has concluded. Or… should I say, concluded itself?”
Near didn’t know what that meant, exactly. Was L inviting he and Mello to attack him again? Was he simply dismissing them? Without a kiss, or a hug, or anything?
“Mello,” L said. “Would you please make certain that the door is locked?”
Oh. Apparently not.
Near felt his heart rate shoot up instantly. A locked door could only mean one thing: secrecy. And L would only want secrecy for one reason…
Mello scrambled out of his chair as though it were on fire. He checked that the door was firmly shut and pushed the dial on the lock as far closed as it would go. Then he rushed back to his seat, sitting down right on the edge.
When Mello was settled again, L looked back and forth between him and Near sternly.
“I told you both that I would do whatever I can…” he said. “And I meant that. But I will tell you now that you can’t expect time with me like this on a regular basis. I happen to have a bit of time free after today’s meeting, but that won’t always be the case. I might only have time for a meeting in the future…and I’ll still have to be away for weeks at a time.”
Was that supposed to be discouraging? Near wondered who L thought he was kidding. His being unavailable didn’t make him less desirable. If anything, it made him more.
“I understand, L.” Mello said. Near noted with disgust that he was fairly bouncing in his chair. “I’m fine with that. You don’t have to explain.”
Near was delighted, though, to see L push his chair back from his desk and stand up. Without a word, L walked around his desk and crossed the office to the back wall, where a burgundy sofa was tucked into a corner. It was simple-looking but also plush. Pillows lay against both the armrests. There was a blue and white patterned rug in front of the sofa, and an end table to one side.
L sat down on the middle cushion of the couch. Near noticed that he wasn’t sitting in his usual manner, with his legs curled up to his chest. Instead, both of L’s feet were firmly on the floor. His knees were just a bit more than shoulder width apart. Slouching slightly against the couch’s back, Near thought he looked more divine than any human being should.
He and Mello remained in their chairs, craning their necks to see L behind them. Near didn’t know whether L wanted them to join him or if he simply needed space to think.
As the pair of them watched, L looked up from under his eyelashes and then glanced back down to the couch.
If that wasn’t a tacit invitation, Near didn’t know what was.
Near and Mello apparently had a penchant for moving in sync today. They both immediately jumped out of their chairs and made their way hastily to L. Near sat to L’s left and Mello to his right.
Near didn’t waste any time in continuing what he had started earlier. He knew Mello would be doing the same, and he tried his hardest to make the sensations on L’s left side pale in comparison to the ones he was experiencing on his right.
“Don’t either of you want to…mfph…” said L. “Just talk…or…wait a bit before…?”
Neither Mello nor Near bothered to respond.
Near had had enough of talking. It had been an hour since his lips had last touched L and he had no intention of making that hour longer, letting more time pass by with words when actions were vastly more enjoyable. And communicated more besides.
Even now, though, Near could not do as he pleased. He wanted to touch his lips to L’s once more, had been wanting it for weeks now. But having Mello in the way made kissing L’s mouth impossible. Near made sure that Mello would be similarly handicapped, though. He wrapped an arm across L’s shoulders, ensuring that Mello could do no more than reach L’s cheek when he went in for a kiss.
Near himself settled for L’s collarbone. A good portion of it was exposed just above the neck of L’s white shirt. Near dotted the length with kisses, hoping his lack of expertise could be compensated for with enthusiasm.
But doing this was far too difficult while Near was sitting down. He had to tilt his head back at a painful angle and stretch his torso as far as it would go.
So Near pulled his legs up underneath him and came to his kneel on the cushions. And after he did so, Near rejoiced. He now had a substantial advantage over Mello. Mello still couldn’t kiss L’s lips - but Near could. He could get to L’s mouth from above!
Before he missed his chance, Near swooped down and pushed their lips together.
It was even better than the time in the dining room. Near felt his stomach flip and his muscles all tense and tighten as one. L was so…so…so everything. Near had always dismissed the notion of chemical energy or electricity between people as poetic nonsense. But right now, he could have sworn he felt sparks on L’s lips as they moved. And when Near heard L hum lowly, he could have sworn that it was in pleasure.
Distantly, Near knew that Mello was making various sounds of outrage beside him. He made no move to stop, though, and even smiled into the kiss. Near wasn’t self-conscious. Let Mello see what he and L were doing. Let Mello see how connected they were, and let Mello envy Near for it.
Just when Near had worked up the courage to run his tongue across L’s bottom lip, he heard - and felt - a rustling to his left. L suddenly pulled away, ripping his mouth from Near’s.
Mello was no longer at L’s side. He was now on L’s lap.
Straddling his right thigh, to be precise. Near was horrified at the sight and horrified that Mello’s audacious position had been enough to distract L from his lips. Near would have shoved Mello off immediately if it weren’t for the knowledge of how L would react.
But as bad as seeing Mello so close to L was…it was nowhere near as bad as it was seeing L raising the heel of his foot off the ground and bring his thigh up to meet the space between Mello’s legs.
Near saw Mello whimper and listened as L inhaled sharply.
L couldn’t…he couldn’t want that, could he? Near knew what must have been happening to Mello down there at the moment (he could feel the same thing happening to himself, after all), and instead of L being repulsed by feeling it, he seemed eager to.
If there was anything Near had learned the past few years, it was that two could play the same game. If L wanted that kind of contact from Mello, he would surely not object to getting it from Near.
Near threw one of his legs over L’s free thigh. He sat down and pushed himself firmly against it, attacking L’s neck with kisses. Clearly Near had to overload L with sensation to compensate for Mello’s impudence.
L’s leg jerked under Near, and Near felt one of his hands come to wrap around his hip. The hand clutched at him compulsively, fingers digging into the material of Near’s trousers, almost to the point of pain. Near loved every moment. L was responding to him. L was wanting him.
Near scooted closer, bringing himself higher up on L’s leg, grinding down on it as he did so. It felt so good…Near had never felt any sensation more pleasant than the one he felt between his legs now. Near wanted to do this forever.
Just when he was getting lost in the feelings his own movements brought, Near felt the hand at his hip slide up and underneath his shirt. Short, bitten nails sank into his skin and Near couldn’t help moaning into L’s neck. Oh God, he hoped L would do more. Anything. Anything at all to keep this stirring in his blood from subsiding.
But for a long time, the only things that Near could sense were the touches he was already conscious of and Mello's all-too-frequent whines and groans.
And then it happened: Near felt L’s fingertips slip into the waistband of his trousers and shortpants…and his brain promptly became nothing more than a thick cloud of fog.
If those fingers would just come forward, just a few inches, Near would feel them where he most wanted to. They would touch where it was sure to feel heavenly, where no one else had ever touched him before.
Such a short distance…just a bit more…
Suddenly Near felt L struggling below him. The fingers inside his waistband withdrew and L’s hand instead planted itself against Near’s chest, pushing him gently but firmly away. Near found himself off L’s lap and off the couch in no time, standing hopelessly in front of both. He saw that Mello was beside him, hair in disarray and eyes staring unfocusedly at the wall.
L was bent almost double, hands against the seat cushions, eyes wide and unseeing. His voice was rough when he spoke, and his chest was heaving with deep breaths.
“I think you both should go,” he said.
Near saw Mello’s gaze snap to L. “What? No! We -”
But L shook his head quickly, cutting Mello’s words short. “It’s time for you leave. I will see you both at another time….please don’t argue. Just do as I say.”
There was nothing left for Near, or for Mello, to say. It was clear that L wanted to be alone.
Before he left, Near couldn’t resist pressing one last kiss to L’s cheek. When he did, he felt L shudder underneath his lips.
***
Man, these kids are eager. But then, who wouldn’t be? L Lawliet? Come on. You know you want him too. :P
I apologize for any typos that might be left here. It’s 3 AM and I really doubt that I’m alert enough to catch all of them.
I would like to thank a certain someone for motivating me to Get This Done. Once I got going, the words came really quickly, whereas before they were just WOULDN’T. Who knew competition was what I needed all along?
I also want to thank everyone who’s left reviews so far. I appreciate all of your comments, and I hope I’ll hear more of them soon!
Characters: L/Mello/Near; this chapter is Near-centric
Rating: M
Word Count: ~6,000
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:
Hmmm....what to say about this one? I suppose I should let you all know that this chapter was written in a method that is very unlike the one I usually use. Usually, I have a strict outline. Events that must be depicted, and in what order, and how, etc. I used an outline with this chapter too, but only after a sizable piece of it was finished. Nothing that I had planned for the story as whole was changed in the end, though.
I hope the length of this chapter will make up for the appalling amount of time it took for me to write it. There are six thousand words here. DX
Anyway, we are back to Near’s point of view now. I myself was very happy about it; writing cool, logical Near felt like coming home after Mello’s emotionality last chapter. Although...this effect may lessen in the future; Near could be beginning to lose some of that Ice Prince-y quality…
Enjoy!
***
Chapter Fourteen - Stifled Practice
“By starving emotions, we become humorless, rigid, and stereotyped; by repressing them we become literal, reformatory, and holier-than-thou; encouraged, they perfume life; discouraged, they poison it.”
- Dr. Joseph Collins
For the first time in his life, Near felt stupid. Admittedly, Near’s definition of stupid was vastly different from the general population’s definition. To the average person, the word ‘stupid’ meant mentally deficient. A brain capable of less than a normal person’s. To Near, ‘stupid’ was a normal person’s brain.
For example, a normal person would not be expected to find the square root of 733 in an instant. No one would frown on the average Tom, Dick, or Larry for picking up a calculator to find the answer.
But Near’s hand shook with frustration as he punched the keys.
Near was a genius. Some might even call him a genius among genii. He routinely performed feats of mental capacity that made others around him ooh and ahh with astonishment. Even when the others were well above average themselves. In every class Near had ever taken, he left his classmates in the dust. Near was reading Shakespeare at four, studying Newtonian physics at seven.
And here he sat, needing help to solve a problem of simple arithmetic.
To say that Near didn’t like it would be a huge understatement. Near valued his intelligence above any other quality he possessed. He used it as both shield and spear, wrapped it around himself like a security blanket. Every day of his life, Near relied on his mind. To find it failing him was nothing short of infuriating.
27.0739727
Near stared at the numbers on his calculator screen with a flat disgust. Nate River, the smartest child at Wammy’s Institute. How the mighty had fallen.
Gradually, Near’s attention was turned back to his classroom. His teacher was discussing some obscure branch of calculus, pontificating wildly and brandishing his pointer.
Near couldn’t even pretend to follow the lecture. What was the point? Clearly today was not Near’s day for intellectual growth.
L would smile and shake his head if he saw Near now. He would explain that of course Near was still intelligent, there was nothing to be upset about. Everyone’s brain draws blanks on occasion. Near would be right back to his old self again quite soon. Then L would stuff a lollipop into his mouth and wander away.
L. Near hadn’t lost so much of his intelligence yet that he couldn’t understand what was happening. It was happening right now, after all. Under his very nose.
L was driving Near to distraction. He would pop into Near’s head at the slightest provocation. Looking at any dessert, for example, immediately conjured up L’s image. Laptop computers. Baggy jeans. Sometimes, Near would read something and wonder what L would think about the idea before he wondered what he himself thought about it.
That last bit was particularly galling. Near was not used to putting others before himself.
Instead of remaining the place for creating, processing, and storing ideas that it had always been, Near’s mind was rapidly becoming a playground. A playground in which all the swing sets, monkey bars, slides, and merry-go-rounds were devoted to a single messy-haired, pale-skinned, emaciated detective.
Near was under no illusions about the situation. L was the reason for his recent foray into stupidity.
No...that wasn’t accurate. The thought of L was the reason for Near’s recent foray into stupidity. The man himself was not invading Near’s mind, after all. (And what a gruesome image it would be if he were.) L was probably in his office right now, far away from Near’s calculus classroom. It was only the idea of him that was close, shooting between the spaces of Near’s neurons and permeating the area of his brain.
The idea of someone else taking control of his mind made Near angry. It was Near’s mind - no one should govern it but Near himself. The thought of someone else coming in and setting up shop made Near’s skin crawl. And even the idea that he was angry about it made Near angrier. His consciousness was rapidly becoming a chaotic spiral. Near would be thinking about something, something important, and then L’s eyes or L’s hands or L’s mouth would enter the picture and sweep everything away.
He felt disordered and vulnerable, and both feelings were ones that Near despised. If not for the presence of his classmates and his teacher, Near would be clawing at the walls this very second. He felt miserable like this.
But at the same time...
At the same time, Near was the happiest he had ever felt. There was a glow inside of him. He was conscious of it wherever he went, a warm weight in his chest that was surprisingly dynamic, changing and shifting like quicksilver. It swelled spectacularly when he thought of L’s smile. Rose buoyantly and warmed when Near considered those times he had hugged him. Smoldered with the heat of a banked fire when Near considered doing more than hugging...
Yes, Near could feel the change very palpably. To go along with the changes in his mind, there were no shortage of physical changes as well. It was when Near cast his mind back to that night in the dining room that those changes were worst. Sometimes when he thought about it, Near’s stomach swooped violently, almost as if he was going to be sick. But the swoop was pleasant. Of all the things that had happened that night, Near of course focused on L’s kiss most. And when it had happened...when their lips had finally met...it was with a feeling unlike anything Near had ever known. Such a delicious feeling it was - like Near had everything he could possibly want and yet at the same time anticipate so much more.
It was clear that Near’s happiness had changed him. A few days ago, about two weeks after that momentous night in the dining room, Near had found that one of his model trains had gone missing. It was his absolute favorite: a shiny red one, with silver plated window-latches and chrome wheels. Near had no idea how he could have misplaced the thing and he searched and searched for it. He looked not only in his room but also in the library and his classrooms as well. He couldn’t find the train anywhere. But instead of becoming frustrated, Near simply shrugged to himself. Near had L now. How could he possibly be upset over a toy?
There was one thing that Near could be upset about, and that was Mello. But Near refused to think of him. Letting his mind become consumed with L was one thing. Thinking about L was pleasant, at least. But Near would be damned if he spent one minute of his day with Mello on his mind. Near had agreed to the arrangement that L proposed - despite his misgivings - and he would live with that decision. If he let himself, Near knew he would worry continuously about the threat Mello posed. He would obsess over how much L really felt for him, or didn’t feel. But Near refused to do so. There was nothing he would gain by worrying.
Near wouldn’t even let himself consider any strategy for pushing Mello away. L had told Near that he needed to be nothing but what he was, and Near had taken it to heart. From now on, when Near was with L, he would only be himself. And being himself required no strategizing or planning. L would either like what Near was or he wouldn’t. Besides, Near knew that he could not continue to pretend be someone else forever. His true colors would show sooner or later...and if L had come to like him when they hadn’t, what would he think about Near when they finally did? Being himself was the right thing to do.
Being himself would work. It had to.
***
On the day of the meeting, Near put on a watch. It was the first time he ever had; Near didn’t particularly care for them. He had no need to know the exact time at any given instant during his day. Near trusted his internal clock enough to get him where he needed to be whenever he needed to be there. Near had always been confident in it. His internal clock had never failed him before.
But today...today Near was not so confident. He was counting on making it to L’s office early, at least fifteen minutes before the time that L had specified. Doing so was of the utmost importance. If Near was late, or even just on time, Mello would be sure to have greeted L before him. And that scenario was to be avoided at all costs. Near knew what Mello’s idea of a “greeting” would be...precisely because he himself had the very same idea. Near didn’t know why he suddenly had less than complete trust in himself, all he knew was that he did. So to make absolutely sure that he was in L’s office first, Near had strapped two bands of leather and a timepiece onto his wrist. The watch itched a little, but Near thought the discomfort was worth it.
It was now twenty-two minutes before three o’clock, L’s appointed time to meet. Near gave the model airplane in his hand one last go-round, then dropped it onto his bed and left his room. Some part of him was fighting to stay inside the safety of the place. A little voice in his head whispered about how much more secure Near would be there, and how uncertain his next few hours would be if he went away. How much could go wrong if he made he slightest mistake. But Near squashed that part of him down viciously. Now was not the time to indulge his anti-social tendencies.
As he climbed the stairs, Near made an effort to stand as straight and tall as he could. He consciously picked up his feet as he walked instead of moving along with his usual shuffling step. He had read somewhere that presenting oneself as a confident person could actually create confidence in times of uncertainty. Near didn’t know whether that was true or not, but he figured that trying it out couldn’t hurt.
When he reached the top of the stairs, Near checked his watch. 2:45 pm on the dot. He was exactly fifteen minutes early. The door to L’s office was just down the hall, right in the corner. He had done it.
Near looked up from his watch, ready to cut a path directly to L. But when he did...he realized that getting to L might be more difficult than he had originally anticipated.
Directly across from the stairway that Near had just climbed there was another stairway, an exact reflection of the first. And in the exact middle of that staircase stood Mello. He was wearing all black again, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked as shocked as Near felt.
For a split second, the pair of them stared at each other. Neither spoke. Time seemed to stop, and all was quiet in the corridor. And then bam! Near realized what he was doing. From the expression on Mello’s face, it looked like the same realization had slammed into him too. As one, they took off down the hallway.
Near knew that Mello had an edge. Breathing hard after going only halfway, he looked right and saw Mello just a hair ahead of him, looking frantic but still physically comfortable. To combat his disadvantage, Near deliberately ran at angle. The right side of his body hit Mello’s and knocked him off course.
“Dammit, Near!” Mello shouted, dropping his backpack. Instead of stopping to pick it up, Mello left it where it lay, regaining his stride and pushing back against Near in retaliation.
After that, it was a fierce race to the finish. Both of them rammed into each other every few steps, hoping to knock the other down but never really succeeding.
Mello reached L’s door first, but before he could wrench it open, Near’s hands got a handle on the knob. He and Mello fought hard to get a proper grip and fought hard to push the other out of the way as well. In the back of his mind, Near absently recognized how ridiculous their scuffle must have looked.
That didn’t stop him from continuing in it.
Eventually Near did manage to yank the door open. As he pulled the door forward, he tried to push it back against Mello and ensure a clear path to L for himself. Mello was quicker than Near anticipated, though, and he maneuvered away from the door just in time to squeeze into the frame along with Near. After some more squabbling, the both of them popped into the room and another mad dash ensued.
L was in his usual place at his desk. Rays of red-gold sunlight shining around him from the window to his right. L was the picture of thoughtfulness, staring at his laptop and drinking from a teacup. He looked completely unprepared to have two pubescent young boys flying at him.
Near threw himself at L in the same moment that Mello did, and in all the commotion, neither of them could find his lips. They were each forced to kiss whichever bit of L they could reach. Near hit L’s shoulder first, then his neck. He eventually managed to touch his lips to L’s cheek, and that was good, but that was also where the fun ended.
Near realized that he had heard muffled sounds as he was fighting to kiss L. Originally he had assumed that they were caused by Mello and his frustration at being thwarted. But now Near realized that they were instead caused by L and his frustration. L was pushing the two of them away, backing away in his chair as he did so. He didn’t look angry...but neither did he look pleased. He gave a sigh and ran one hand through the black spikes of his hair, pushing him into further disarray.
“I don’t think this is the time, boys,” L said. His voice was firm. “I haven’t forgotten what we’ve agreed to, but you also cannot forget what we need to accomplish. I need an heir...and I need you both to remember that now.”
Near was disgusted with himself. Of course L wouldn’t appreciate being mauled the very second that Near saw him. Near’s plan to reach L first was a bad one. He should have left Mello to that, should have let Mello do his damage, and then walked in calmly and greeted L with dignity. Now, Near looked no better than his competition.
But no matter. Near’s blunder wasn’t the end of the world. He could make up for it later.
Near and Mello took their seats in front of L’s desk. By now, Near had grown accustomed to the worn leather of the upholstery and the brass domes along the arms. He curled one leg up onto his seat and was comfortable.
L returned his chair to its original place behind his laptop. Instead of sitting down in it again, though, he ducked down to the floor, hidden from sight. Near wondered what L could be doing. He heard the rustling of crisp paper and then saw L emerge from behind the desk. In his hands were two packets of loose paper.
From across the desk, L passed the packet in his right hand to Near and the one in his left to Mello. When Near looked down at it, he saw block letters printed in black.
In the top center was L’s gothic-font insignia. Just underneath that were the words Special Services and Duties - Assistant.
“I have two tasks to accomplish in today’s meeting,” said L. “First, I would like to familiarize both of you with some of the more practical aspects of L. I have an assistant, as you know - Mr. Wammy, who also happens to be the founder of this institute. The papers in your hands outline some of what he does for me and how he operates while maintaining the secret of my identity.”
Near flipped through the pages quickly. He saw long, detailed outlines, and caught words like “procedure” and “maintenance.” He felt his interest in the proceedings begin to wane. In fact, it had been steadily dropping ever since L had mentioned practicality. Near had no interest in being practical. Not in his own life and not with L either.
“Secondly,” L continued. “I want to question you about some of your philosophies. Those that would directly affect you in your work as a detective. I feel that this is an area in which I have been sorely negligent.”
From the corner of his eye, Near saw Mello fidget in his seat. The packet of papers that L had given him were already lying forgotten on the arm of his chair.
“So,” L said authoritatively. “To begin. If you’ll both turn to page two…”
Near almost couldn’t believe what followed. L gave him and Mello an explanation of his assistant’s duties and responsibilities, page by page. He went over Mr. Wammy’s living situation, how he planned L’s travel arrangements, where and when he shopped for L, when he met with national police agencies, how he contacted them, the manner in which he accepted and rejected cases, how he and L communicated when they were apart from one another…L did everything but read the packet to them verbatim.
Near never thought that L could be boring, but this was pushing things. Near wouldn’t let himself show his impatience, and he tried to look as interested in the proceedings as he could. Twenty minutes into the meeting, though, he was ready for it to end. Near didn’t have to look at Mello to tell that he felt the same. Mello had been sighing, shifting, and coughing ever since L began detailing Mr. Wammy’s wide network of government contacts (it stretched across five continents and thirty-seven countries).
Shaking himself mentally, Near forced himself to refocus on L’s words.
“On page nineteen,” L was saying, “you will each find a list of the airlines that Mr. Wammy prefers. Many of them offer their services free of charge, in exchange for control of a few key patents he owns. When the time comes for L’s successor to take over, I imagine that Mr. Wammy himself will be retired…but the next assistant - whenever you select them - will surely want to maintain the connections he has nurtured. British Airways in particular…”
Just when Near was feeling his attention slipping once again, he heard a sound from his right. It was Mello. Near turned to look at him and saw that his expression exactly matched the noise he’d made: it was pained and pleading.
“Is something the matter, Mello?” L asked. He looked up from his computer, making eye contact for the first time in ten minutes.
In addition to looking pained, Mello now looked appalled. He stared open-mouthed at L for a time before finding it in himself to speak.
“I...well…” Mello said, sounding like he was searching for the right words. “Maybe we’ve focused enough on assistants for now?”
Near wanted to hate Mello for implying that L was boring him. He really did. But he found that the only feeling in him at the moment was thankfulness. Near didn’t know how much longer he could have listened to L point out every nuance and subtlety of Quillish Wammy’s bakery shopping. Near didn’t care about how he got a fifty percent discount on some American bakery’s scones.
It wasn’t even just the topic - though that was definitely a large part of Near’s boredom. It was that L himself called attention away from his words. Near was sure that he was unaware of it, too. Which only served to make the distraction that much more potent. L wasn’t trying to call attention to his lips by sipping from that teacup. He wasn’t trying to accentuate his white neck by swallowing so languidly. He wasn’t trying to fill Near’s head with thoughts worthy of a person far beyond his years. And yet he did so anyway.
Near shouldn’t have been surprised; L drove him to distraction even when he wasn’t four feet away.
But Near still hadn’t gotten used to the sensations that L inspired in him. Being with him, here in person, only made the effects worse. The warm weight in his chest seemed to have grown legs. Near could feel it pacing anxiously inside of him, flexing its claws and tossing its head back and forth impatiently.
“Hmm…” L murmured, turning back to his laptop screen. His eyebrows came together slightly and a small frown appeared at his mouth. He looked somehow discouraged. “Perhaps you are correct. Let’s turn to the second reason that I wanted to meet with the two of you today.”
Near tried to calm himself. He sat up straighter in his chair, taking a deep breath. He had a job to do here. He still wanted L’s position, didn’t he? He needed to focus, or Mello would snatch victory out from underneath his feet.
It would be easier if L would go away for awhile, though. Even though he had returned to denying eye contact…even though he was clearly business-minded now…Near couldn’t look away from him.
“I really only have two questions,” said L. “The first concerns your methods. You undoubtedly know that a detective relies on observation primarily. When that fails, however, he must turn to interrogation. There is not a criminal in the world who does not try to hide his wrongdoing - at least for time. It will be your job to uncover the truth of his actions, and for that you will often need to question him or his acquaintances. My question is this: what methods do you use to persuade him to speak?”
Mello answered promptly. “Whatever works.” he said.
Near reflected for a moment before giving his answer. “Agreed,” he said. “Whatever works.”
Staring at the top of his desk intently, L cocked his ear. “You both agree on this. Interesting. And neither of you are bothered by the implications of your answers? Torture, for example, doesn’t give you pause? Not coercion or extortion either?”
It took a moment for Near to rein his mind in enough to process L’s questions. And a moment more for him to construct a suitable answer.
“As L…” Near began. “As L, we wouldn’t be dealing with criminals who had stolen from drugstores or lied about their taxes. We would be dealing with the world’s worst. And to stop them, nothing should be off limits.”
“I see,” L said, sounding like he didn’t see at all. “And Mello, do you agree?”
Mello gave one sharp nod. “Yes. We can’t have limits. If we did, we might miss cases. Miss some criminals along the way.”
L was silent for a few seconds.
“I see,” he said again. “Now for the second question. This one is considerably more open-ended. I wonder if either of you have ever considered it before…Is there anything that would make you end your work as L once you started? Anything at all? Put another way, do you believe you could function as the world’s best detective under any circumstances?”
Near hadn’t ever considered the question before. Was there anything that would cause him to quit being L? He had no idea. He didn’t think that there was…but he wasn’t sure. How was he to know with certainty that he could do L’s job under any circumstances? He didn’t even know if he could do L’s job under the current circumstances.
What answer would L appreciate in his heir more? Would L be impressed by Near’s confidence if Near said that he could be L at any time, any where? And would he be disappointed if Near voiced reservations about his capabilities? Or would L be impressed by Near’s humility if he thought that there might be times when the job was too much for him? Would he be disappointed if Near was arrogant enough to say anything else?
Near couldn’t know. And he really didn’t care to give much thought to the question anyway. There were other things that he was looking forward to when this meeting was over…he wanted it finished as quickly as possible.
So Near decided to tell the truth. He didn’t have any basis to do anything else. Even if his answer wasn’t what L wanted, at least his honesty would count for something.
“I don’t know,” Near said. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either,” said Mello hurriedly. He scooted forward in his chair, looking ready to leap out of it at the first available opportunity.
L looked up at the pair of them. Near expected him to smirk or sigh at Mello’s obvious eagerness, but instead L’s eyes turned to Near himself. Near was met with the piercing black of them, so very like his own, and yet so very different. Near didn’t know why L was looking at him so purposefully. Did he look less composed than he thought he did? Was it possible that Near’s desire was even more obvious than Mello’s was?
When L finally looked away from Near, his jaw was set resolutely. He looked across to Mello and held his eyes for a time, though it was for a shorter time than he had done so with Near.
Then L returned his gaze to his computer. “I think today’s meeting has concluded. Or… should I say, concluded itself?”
Near didn’t know what that meant, exactly. Was L inviting he and Mello to attack him again? Was he simply dismissing them? Without a kiss, or a hug, or anything?
“Mello,” L said. “Would you please make certain that the door is locked?”
Oh. Apparently not.
Near felt his heart rate shoot up instantly. A locked door could only mean one thing: secrecy. And L would only want secrecy for one reason…
Mello scrambled out of his chair as though it were on fire. He checked that the door was firmly shut and pushed the dial on the lock as far closed as it would go. Then he rushed back to his seat, sitting down right on the edge.
When Mello was settled again, L looked back and forth between him and Near sternly.
“I told you both that I would do whatever I can…” he said. “And I meant that. But I will tell you now that you can’t expect time with me like this on a regular basis. I happen to have a bit of time free after today’s meeting, but that won’t always be the case. I might only have time for a meeting in the future…and I’ll still have to be away for weeks at a time.”
Was that supposed to be discouraging? Near wondered who L thought he was kidding. His being unavailable didn’t make him less desirable. If anything, it made him more.
“I understand, L.” Mello said. Near noted with disgust that he was fairly bouncing in his chair. “I’m fine with that. You don’t have to explain.”
Near was delighted, though, to see L push his chair back from his desk and stand up. Without a word, L walked around his desk and crossed the office to the back wall, where a burgundy sofa was tucked into a corner. It was simple-looking but also plush. Pillows lay against both the armrests. There was a blue and white patterned rug in front of the sofa, and an end table to one side.
L sat down on the middle cushion of the couch. Near noticed that he wasn’t sitting in his usual manner, with his legs curled up to his chest. Instead, both of L’s feet were firmly on the floor. His knees were just a bit more than shoulder width apart. Slouching slightly against the couch’s back, Near thought he looked more divine than any human being should.
He and Mello remained in their chairs, craning their necks to see L behind them. Near didn’t know whether L wanted them to join him or if he simply needed space to think.
As the pair of them watched, L looked up from under his eyelashes and then glanced back down to the couch.
If that wasn’t a tacit invitation, Near didn’t know what was.
Near and Mello apparently had a penchant for moving in sync today. They both immediately jumped out of their chairs and made their way hastily to L. Near sat to L’s left and Mello to his right.
Near didn’t waste any time in continuing what he had started earlier. He knew Mello would be doing the same, and he tried his hardest to make the sensations on L’s left side pale in comparison to the ones he was experiencing on his right.
“Don’t either of you want to…mfph…” said L. “Just talk…or…wait a bit before…?”
Neither Mello nor Near bothered to respond.
Near had had enough of talking. It had been an hour since his lips had last touched L and he had no intention of making that hour longer, letting more time pass by with words when actions were vastly more enjoyable. And communicated more besides.
Even now, though, Near could not do as he pleased. He wanted to touch his lips to L’s once more, had been wanting it for weeks now. But having Mello in the way made kissing L’s mouth impossible. Near made sure that Mello would be similarly handicapped, though. He wrapped an arm across L’s shoulders, ensuring that Mello could do no more than reach L’s cheek when he went in for a kiss.
Near himself settled for L’s collarbone. A good portion of it was exposed just above the neck of L’s white shirt. Near dotted the length with kisses, hoping his lack of expertise could be compensated for with enthusiasm.
But doing this was far too difficult while Near was sitting down. He had to tilt his head back at a painful angle and stretch his torso as far as it would go.
So Near pulled his legs up underneath him and came to his kneel on the cushions. And after he did so, Near rejoiced. He now had a substantial advantage over Mello. Mello still couldn’t kiss L’s lips - but Near could. He could get to L’s mouth from above!
Before he missed his chance, Near swooped down and pushed their lips together.
It was even better than the time in the dining room. Near felt his stomach flip and his muscles all tense and tighten as one. L was so…so…so everything. Near had always dismissed the notion of chemical energy or electricity between people as poetic nonsense. But right now, he could have sworn he felt sparks on L’s lips as they moved. And when Near heard L hum lowly, he could have sworn that it was in pleasure.
Distantly, Near knew that Mello was making various sounds of outrage beside him. He made no move to stop, though, and even smiled into the kiss. Near wasn’t self-conscious. Let Mello see what he and L were doing. Let Mello see how connected they were, and let Mello envy Near for it.
Just when Near had worked up the courage to run his tongue across L’s bottom lip, he heard - and felt - a rustling to his left. L suddenly pulled away, ripping his mouth from Near’s.
Mello was no longer at L’s side. He was now on L’s lap.
Straddling his right thigh, to be precise. Near was horrified at the sight and horrified that Mello’s audacious position had been enough to distract L from his lips. Near would have shoved Mello off immediately if it weren’t for the knowledge of how L would react.
But as bad as seeing Mello so close to L was…it was nowhere near as bad as it was seeing L raising the heel of his foot off the ground and bring his thigh up to meet the space between Mello’s legs.
Near saw Mello whimper and listened as L inhaled sharply.
L couldn’t…he couldn’t want that, could he? Near knew what must have been happening to Mello down there at the moment (he could feel the same thing happening to himself, after all), and instead of L being repulsed by feeling it, he seemed eager to.
If there was anything Near had learned the past few years, it was that two could play the same game. If L wanted that kind of contact from Mello, he would surely not object to getting it from Near.
Near threw one of his legs over L’s free thigh. He sat down and pushed himself firmly against it, attacking L’s neck with kisses. Clearly Near had to overload L with sensation to compensate for Mello’s impudence.
L’s leg jerked under Near, and Near felt one of his hands come to wrap around his hip. The hand clutched at him compulsively, fingers digging into the material of Near’s trousers, almost to the point of pain. Near loved every moment. L was responding to him. L was wanting him.
Near scooted closer, bringing himself higher up on L’s leg, grinding down on it as he did so. It felt so good…Near had never felt any sensation more pleasant than the one he felt between his legs now. Near wanted to do this forever.
Just when he was getting lost in the feelings his own movements brought, Near felt the hand at his hip slide up and underneath his shirt. Short, bitten nails sank into his skin and Near couldn’t help moaning into L’s neck. Oh God, he hoped L would do more. Anything. Anything at all to keep this stirring in his blood from subsiding.
But for a long time, the only things that Near could sense were the touches he was already conscious of and Mello's all-too-frequent whines and groans.
And then it happened: Near felt L’s fingertips slip into the waistband of his trousers and shortpants…and his brain promptly became nothing more than a thick cloud of fog.
If those fingers would just come forward, just a few inches, Near would feel them where he most wanted to. They would touch where it was sure to feel heavenly, where no one else had ever touched him before.
Such a short distance…just a bit more…
Suddenly Near felt L struggling below him. The fingers inside his waistband withdrew and L’s hand instead planted itself against Near’s chest, pushing him gently but firmly away. Near found himself off L’s lap and off the couch in no time, standing hopelessly in front of both. He saw that Mello was beside him, hair in disarray and eyes staring unfocusedly at the wall.
L was bent almost double, hands against the seat cushions, eyes wide and unseeing. His voice was rough when he spoke, and his chest was heaving with deep breaths.
“I think you both should go,” he said.
Near saw Mello’s gaze snap to L. “What? No! We -”
But L shook his head quickly, cutting Mello’s words short. “It’s time for you leave. I will see you both at another time….please don’t argue. Just do as I say.”
There was nothing left for Near, or for Mello, to say. It was clear that L wanted to be alone.
Before he left, Near couldn’t resist pressing one last kiss to L’s cheek. When he did, he felt L shudder underneath his lips.
***
Man, these kids are eager. But then, who wouldn’t be? L Lawliet? Come on. You know you want him too. :P
I apologize for any typos that might be left here. It’s 3 AM and I really doubt that I’m alert enough to catch all of them.
I would like to thank a certain someone for motivating me to Get This Done. Once I got going, the words came really quickly, whereas before they were just WOULDN’T. Who knew competition was what I needed all along?
I also want to thank everyone who’s left reviews so far. I appreciate all of your comments, and I hope I’ll hear more of them soon!