DN -- The Dawn of Remembered Time V: Surprisingly Unsurprising
Title: The Dawn of Remembered Time
Chapter: 5. Surprisingly Unsurprising
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/L
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,154
Warnings: implied sex, off-kilter humor
Summary: Light Yagami's metaphors were even worse when he was hungover and had just gotten laid.
Author's Note: Any remotely merciful human being would have kept Matsuda way the hell out of this fic. Fortunately, I’m a sadist.
V - SURPRISINGLY UNSURPRISING
The door fell shut behind Watari, and, removing his fingertips from their berths near his eardrums, Light turned to Ryuzaki. A single glance at the twist of the man’s lips seemed to confirm his worst suspicions.
“Was that The Talk?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Ryuzaki smiled humorlessly. The expression was unfamiliar and terrifying. “I am twenty-five years old, Light-kun,” he noted calmly.
He was, wasn’t he? Christ.
“I am hardly in need of The Talk,” Ryuzaki assured him.
Light, what the hell are you doing?
He pushed damp hair out of his eyes. “Guess we should get back to work, th-”
“Good morning, sunshines!” Matsuda sang, stretching both arms above his head as he sauntered in to join them, the other members of the task force trailing. Matsuda’s tie was slightly askew, and he hadn’t ironed his shirt, but his grin was as indomitable as ever. “I’ve never taken so much Advil in my life,” he informed them cheerily, “and I still feel like my head’s going to crack open and splatter my brains on the floor!”
“Oh, but they just washed the floor,” Light retorted, hoping he sounded dismissive instead of terrified. How much did Matsuda remem-
“Look at you two,” the incorrigible officer remarked, clicking his tongue, arms akimbo. “And you were so cozy last night!”
Light was going to kill him. Light was going to strangle him with his bare hands. He just had to lift those hands, which were tingling at his sides as he tried and failed to work his mouth.
“I mean, Ryuzaki, you had your head in his lap-”
Light’s unstable stomach flipped. He remembered that perfectly through the haze-remembered the helpless grin and the guilty glee in the wide gray eyes; remembered the thick hair tickling right through his khakis, softer than down feathers, than brushed silk, than the last threads of a fading dream-
“I can’t be the only one who saw that,” Matsuda was scoffing.
“The world is not so kind, Matsuda-san,” Ryuzaki agreed crisply, a frighteningly foreign bitterness playing in those eyes now. Light turned to the others, who, though none among them had lingered as long as Matsuda, were all nursing hangovers of various severities, and saw the dreaded light of understanding in their bleary eyes.
Worse, however, was the dawning of it in his father’s face-his father, who had opted to take his night off at home instead, permitting the whole wretched pageant to unfurl.
“Watari-san is attending to breakfast,” Ryuzaki announced into the weighty silence. “I suggest we get things moving before he returns.”
Light’s father raised his eyebrows. “Excellent,” he decided. Before Light could foster any delusions of relief, Soichiro followed up with, “Light, can I speak to you for a moment?”
Sympathizing suddenly with Kira’s victims trudging to their mysterious gallows, Light walked numbly to his father’s side. They were just words. Just “disappointed”s and “shame on you”s. Just needles in his knife wounds. He’d live to bleed another day.
Before Soichiro could speak, Ryuzaki, with a characteristic lack of explanation, sat down on the nearest ottoman and drew his knees up to his chest. He looked at Light’s father.
“Yagami-san,” he said, “much as I usually support your methods for parenting as well as for policing, before you tear into Light-kun too fervently, I would like to state, simply for your consideration, that it most certainly takes two to tango.”
There was a pause of epic proportions. Ryuzaki touched his thumb thoughtfully to his lips, and the only other movement in the room was a whole lot of blinking on the part of everyone else.
Predictably enough, Matsuda shattered the quiescence with an exultant cry that sounded only slightly strained. “Who wants to go see how Watari’s doing with breakfast?” he crowed.
Explosive agreements burst from the others, who chased him eagerly out the door.
“Is there any more Advil, Matsu?” Mogi was asking as the door in question fell shut behind them. “Or did you chug them all?”
Soichiro Yagami, Chief Director of the Japanese police, and Ryuzaki-L, the World’s Greatest Detective, stared each other down, the latter calmly, the former in utter disbelief.
Ryuzaki’s thumb nail wandered between his teeth. “Yagami-san may address his son now,” he decided, gathering himself to his sockless feet and sidling to the end of the chain, where he pressed his hands over his ears and obligingly averted his eyes.
Light’s father watched Ryuzaki, whose toes were curling and uncurling on the linoleum, for a thirty second-eternity before he spoke.
“Do you love him?” he asked quietly.
“Wh-what?” Light sputtered.
Soichiro folded his arms across his chest, meeting Light’s eyes. “Do you love him, or not?”
Light looked back, his heartbeat singing in his ears with an extremely distracting enthusiasm. “Yes,” his voice said. “I do.”
His father was surprisingly unsurprised. “Then you should tell him so,” he concluded equably.
Light balked. “Tell him?” he repeated. “Tell him? Dad, he’s-he’s L!”
“And you’re Light,” his father replied, though Light didn’t know what that had to do with anything. Soichiro saw his son’s bewilderment and sighed. “Light, I’ll be the first to admit that I can’t keep track of the thoughts that go through that boy’s head-or yours, for that matter-but I do think that it’s safe to say he wouldn’t have jumped into bed with you if he wasn’t fond of you to start with.”
Light hid his face in his hands and made a noise that sounded like a resigned squeak even to his own ears.
His father laid a hand on his shoulder, which Light assumed was meant to be encouraging. “Listen,” he said. “I’ve seen the way you two work together. I’m stunned regularly that you survive being chained together twenty-four hours a day. And I’ve lost count of the times you’ve both been so passionate about something that it’s devolved into a fight. You know what that says to me, Light? It says that you’re two people cut from the same crazy, incomprehensible cloth. Obviously, it’s up to you, and it’ll always be up to you, but I think that two people like that should stick together, because they’re sure as hell not going to find anyone else like them in the rest of this ridiculous world. They don’t make them like the two of you very often. You understand each other. You can keep up with each other, which is more than any of the rest of us can do. If you’ve been lucky enough to fall in love with each other, too, then-well, take it when you’ve got it, Light. This sort of thing doesn’t come around twice.”
Light stared at his father, peeking through his fingers. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned,” he managed, “that your only son just turned out to be a flaming homosexual?”
Soichiro slapped his forehead resonantly.
[Chapter IV] [Chapter VI]
Chapter: 5. Surprisingly Unsurprising
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/L
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,154
Warnings: implied sex, off-kilter humor
Summary: Light Yagami's metaphors were even worse when he was hungover and had just gotten laid.
Author's Note: Any remotely merciful human being would have kept Matsuda way the hell out of this fic. Fortunately, I’m a sadist.
V - SURPRISINGLY UNSURPRISING
The door fell shut behind Watari, and, removing his fingertips from their berths near his eardrums, Light turned to Ryuzaki. A single glance at the twist of the man’s lips seemed to confirm his worst suspicions.
“Was that The Talk?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Ryuzaki smiled humorlessly. The expression was unfamiliar and terrifying. “I am twenty-five years old, Light-kun,” he noted calmly.
He was, wasn’t he? Christ.
“I am hardly in need of The Talk,” Ryuzaki assured him.
Light, what the hell are you doing?
He pushed damp hair out of his eyes. “Guess we should get back to work, th-”
“Good morning, sunshines!” Matsuda sang, stretching both arms above his head as he sauntered in to join them, the other members of the task force trailing. Matsuda’s tie was slightly askew, and he hadn’t ironed his shirt, but his grin was as indomitable as ever. “I’ve never taken so much Advil in my life,” he informed them cheerily, “and I still feel like my head’s going to crack open and splatter my brains on the floor!”
“Oh, but they just washed the floor,” Light retorted, hoping he sounded dismissive instead of terrified. How much did Matsuda remem-
“Look at you two,” the incorrigible officer remarked, clicking his tongue, arms akimbo. “And you were so cozy last night!”
Light was going to kill him. Light was going to strangle him with his bare hands. He just had to lift those hands, which were tingling at his sides as he tried and failed to work his mouth.
“I mean, Ryuzaki, you had your head in his lap-”
Light’s unstable stomach flipped. He remembered that perfectly through the haze-remembered the helpless grin and the guilty glee in the wide gray eyes; remembered the thick hair tickling right through his khakis, softer than down feathers, than brushed silk, than the last threads of a fading dream-
“I can’t be the only one who saw that,” Matsuda was scoffing.
“The world is not so kind, Matsuda-san,” Ryuzaki agreed crisply, a frighteningly foreign bitterness playing in those eyes now. Light turned to the others, who, though none among them had lingered as long as Matsuda, were all nursing hangovers of various severities, and saw the dreaded light of understanding in their bleary eyes.
Worse, however, was the dawning of it in his father’s face-his father, who had opted to take his night off at home instead, permitting the whole wretched pageant to unfurl.
“Watari-san is attending to breakfast,” Ryuzaki announced into the weighty silence. “I suggest we get things moving before he returns.”
Light’s father raised his eyebrows. “Excellent,” he decided. Before Light could foster any delusions of relief, Soichiro followed up with, “Light, can I speak to you for a moment?”
Sympathizing suddenly with Kira’s victims trudging to their mysterious gallows, Light walked numbly to his father’s side. They were just words. Just “disappointed”s and “shame on you”s. Just needles in his knife wounds. He’d live to bleed another day.
Before Soichiro could speak, Ryuzaki, with a characteristic lack of explanation, sat down on the nearest ottoman and drew his knees up to his chest. He looked at Light’s father.
“Yagami-san,” he said, “much as I usually support your methods for parenting as well as for policing, before you tear into Light-kun too fervently, I would like to state, simply for your consideration, that it most certainly takes two to tango.”
There was a pause of epic proportions. Ryuzaki touched his thumb thoughtfully to his lips, and the only other movement in the room was a whole lot of blinking on the part of everyone else.
Predictably enough, Matsuda shattered the quiescence with an exultant cry that sounded only slightly strained. “Who wants to go see how Watari’s doing with breakfast?” he crowed.
Explosive agreements burst from the others, who chased him eagerly out the door.
“Is there any more Advil, Matsu?” Mogi was asking as the door in question fell shut behind them. “Or did you chug them all?”
Soichiro Yagami, Chief Director of the Japanese police, and Ryuzaki-L, the World’s Greatest Detective, stared each other down, the latter calmly, the former in utter disbelief.
Ryuzaki’s thumb nail wandered between his teeth. “Yagami-san may address his son now,” he decided, gathering himself to his sockless feet and sidling to the end of the chain, where he pressed his hands over his ears and obligingly averted his eyes.
Light’s father watched Ryuzaki, whose toes were curling and uncurling on the linoleum, for a thirty second-eternity before he spoke.
“Do you love him?” he asked quietly.
“Wh-what?” Light sputtered.
Soichiro folded his arms across his chest, meeting Light’s eyes. “Do you love him, or not?”
Light looked back, his heartbeat singing in his ears with an extremely distracting enthusiasm. “Yes,” his voice said. “I do.”
His father was surprisingly unsurprised. “Then you should tell him so,” he concluded equably.
Light balked. “Tell him?” he repeated. “Tell him? Dad, he’s-he’s L!”
“And you’re Light,” his father replied, though Light didn’t know what that had to do with anything. Soichiro saw his son’s bewilderment and sighed. “Light, I’ll be the first to admit that I can’t keep track of the thoughts that go through that boy’s head-or yours, for that matter-but I do think that it’s safe to say he wouldn’t have jumped into bed with you if he wasn’t fond of you to start with.”
Light hid his face in his hands and made a noise that sounded like a resigned squeak even to his own ears.
His father laid a hand on his shoulder, which Light assumed was meant to be encouraging. “Listen,” he said. “I’ve seen the way you two work together. I’m stunned regularly that you survive being chained together twenty-four hours a day. And I’ve lost count of the times you’ve both been so passionate about something that it’s devolved into a fight. You know what that says to me, Light? It says that you’re two people cut from the same crazy, incomprehensible cloth. Obviously, it’s up to you, and it’ll always be up to you, but I think that two people like that should stick together, because they’re sure as hell not going to find anyone else like them in the rest of this ridiculous world. They don’t make them like the two of you very often. You understand each other. You can keep up with each other, which is more than any of the rest of us can do. If you’ve been lucky enough to fall in love with each other, too, then-well, take it when you’ve got it, Light. This sort of thing doesn’t come around twice.”
Light stared at his father, peeking through his fingers. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned,” he managed, “that your only son just turned out to be a flaming homosexual?”
Soichiro slapped his forehead resonantly.
[Chapter IV] [Chapter VI]