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“What do you think it’s like to die?”
Of all the questions he could’ve asked ten minutes post-coitus, Mikami doubts this is a very popular one. Then again, he’s never been one for convention—most people aren’t sleeping with the embodiment of Death itself.
They sit on the balcony outside Death’s bedroom under a perpetually inky sky. There is no daylight cycle in the purgatorial world they inhabit, nothing to indicate that it’s morning except for the cup of coffee Death sips on. Mikami’s head is settled in his lap, the rest of him stretched across an aubergine sofa, and fingers weave through his hair, doing and undoing knots with an electric touch. Light always has an air of danger about him, even during these quiet moments, but Mikami thinks it’s only fitting. In fact, he admires it. Death is a deity in his own right, and God often inspires fear.
“I don’t know,” Light says. “For as many times as I’ve watched the life leave someone’s eyes, I still can’t wrap my head around it. It’s awfully human.”
Perhaps Mikami is better equipped to answer his own question, then.
He remembers bits and pieces of his mortality. He’d obsessed over death with varying degrees of terror and fascination. Maybe that’s exactly why Death hand-picked him for an eternity of subservience before he ever had the chance to experience it himself. How ironic.
“Why?” Light asks. He scratches at Mikami’s scalp, making him shudder and lean into the touch. “The sex was good enough to kill?”
“It always is.”
“Oh, you flatter me.”
More and more of the world wakes up around them. Mikami listens to the street activity all those stories below. He knows, at some point, Light will need to get up and get dressed and head downstairs to his office, prompting Mikami to follow at his heels like a well-trained dog until Light sends him away with a job to do. It’s the rest of the city’s day off, but Death never rests.
Mikami presses his face against Light’s bare thigh and narrowly holds back a groan. If it was up to him, they wouldn’t leave this couch for the rest of their eternal lives.
“I didn’t want to die before you brought me here, although I suppose that’s only natural,” he says. “But maybe if I’d known Death has such a beautiful face, I wouldn’t have been so afraid.”
“That’s easy for you to say now. You’re hardly human anymore.” Even though Light doesn’t respond to the compliment directly, Mikami can hear in his voice how pleased he is to receive it.
“You’re right. Still, it’s a fundamental human experience I’ll never get to have. It makes me feel almost like I’m missing something.”
Light winds a lock of hair around his finger and tugs. “Is fucking Death not enough?”
Mikami’s face grows hot. He scrambles to correct his mistake. “My apologies, sir, I didn’t mean—”
“I won’t be upset if the answer is no.”
He pauses and thinks. He wants to please Light just as badly as he wants to be honest with him, and Light hates it when he answers his questions untruthfully anyway. In the end, he decides to speak his mind. “You’re wonderful, but I don’t think it’s quite the same.”
“Mm. Is this your way of asking me a favor, then?”
“Pardon?”
“I assume you bring this up because you want to do something about it. Well, I would be the perfect one to ask, wouldn’t I? I’m the only thing in the universe that can kill you now, you know. And I would have to do it directly, with my bare hands. The truth is that I’m far too fond of you to take it all the way, but I could at least get you close, if that’s what you want.”
There’s a hungry edge to Light’s voice that wasn’t there before. He’s serious. And Mikami is nothing if not prepared.
“It would be an honor,” he says, “to die by your hands.”
Light groans. It’s soft but unmistakable. “If you really want it, then you should get on your knees and ask me nicely.”
Mikami doesn’t need to be told twice. His body moves practically of its own accord, ever-dedicated to following Death’s orders. His knees hit the concrete floor of the balcony and he comes to rest in front of Light—a sight to behold, clad only in his underwear, all pale skin and sleek angles. Mikami crosses his wrists behind his back and looks up at him through his eyelashes.
“I would like nothing better than to look at your face as I breathe my last breath. I want to bear witness to your power.” He rests his cheek against Light’s knee. “Do with me what you wish, Death. Kill me. Please.”
Light takes a shaky breath and spreads his legs. A hot wave of arousal slams into Mikami when he realizes he can smell just how wet he is.
“You know I love hearing you beg,” Light says, “but I think there are better ways you could convince me.”
He leans over to set his coffee aside, and Mikami doesn't need the rest spelled out for him. He removes his glasses and waits until Light has righted himself before sliding his hands up the insides of his thighs, staring at the damp spot forming on his boxers. He half-expects Light to scold him for his lack of restraint when he grabs him by the hips and drags him closer, but he releases a surprised moan instead. Both of his hands pull Mikami in by his hair.
Mikami presses his mouth to Light’s cunt with the eagerness of someone eating their first meal in days. After swiping over it with his tongue, relishing the faint taste, he finds Light’s swollen dick and sucks diligently. He can only imagine the fabric between them creates delicious friction; the way Light’s thighs tremble says as much.
“Yes,” Light whines. He clings onto Mikami like a wolf to its prey, fingers curled into claws. “So, so good.”
Mikami glows.
Light grinds against his face with such fervor that if he moved his hips just right, he could probably break his nose. Mercifully, once his boxers are soaked and Mikami is aching to strip him and taste him for real, Light pushes him aside so he can undress before they continue.
Mikami eats him out for what feels like hours. There’s nothing else he would rather do with his morning. Light is dripping, clenching around his fingers, making high-pitched noises that go directly to his cock. He would spend an eternity here if it was asked of him.
But eventually (too soon), Light is sated. He pushes Mikami away and takes a moment to sit there, panting and shivering, before he makes his next move. Mikami can’t help but feel proud of his work.
He gazes up at Light reverently. “Have I convinced you, sir?”
Light responds by sitting up, grabbing the front of Mikami’s shirt, and crushing their mouths together.
It’s a hot, aggressive kiss, full of teeth. Mikami’s head spins and he grabs onto Light’s forearms just to keep himself from toppling over.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Light growls into the space below Mikami’s jawline. “I’m gonna squeeze the fucking life out of you, and I’m going to get myself off on it, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Mikami’s mouth falls open. He whines loudly, and his hips buck up into empty air. If he knew Light any less, he would surely wither beneath his gaze.
“I’ll be back,” Light says, getting to his feet.
Mikami leans after him on instinct just before Light disappears inside. He’s only gone for a second or two. When he returns, he’s holding one of his belts between his hands.
“Light?”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t you want to go inside?”
Light raises an eyebrow. His stance is wide, shoulders squared. The amber-colored lamps placed around the balcony give him a truly unearthly glow. He looks, acts, feels so much like a human that sometimes Mikami almost forgets he isn’t one. Almost. Light always reminds him just in time.
“Are you afraid someone else will see?” Light asks.
“No, but I was thinking someone might hear.”
“Mm…” Light, still completely naked, makes a show of walking up to the edge of the balcony and leaning against the glass railing. Mikami can’t help but stare, eyes gliding over the razor-edged curves of his body. “I think we’re too high up for anyone to hear over the street noise. But what about these other high-rises? You don’t think they’ll see anything?”
“That’s unlikely. Most of them are office buildings, and it’s not a workday.”
“What if someone decides to come in on their day off?”
“Would you like that?”
Light chuckles. “Would you?”
Mikami doesn’t answer. All he knows is every part of him aches to touch Light again, and he doesn’t give a damn who bears witness. In a moment of impulsivity, he pushes himself to his feet, walks up behind Light, and spins him around by his shoulders. From there, it’s easy to pull him in and kiss him.
Light moans and melts into it, wrapping his arms around the back of Mikami’s neck. He’s still holding the belt in one hand—Mikami feels it nudge against his shoulder blade.
“Do you remember what I said earlier, about how there’s only one way left you can die?” Light pulls back and grins wickedly. “Well, it’s fair to reason that as long as I’m not actually touching you, you could experience complete brain death and still come back from it. Right?”
Mikami’s eyes go wide as he realizes his safety hinges on a technicality. Are you sure it works like that? he almost asks, but he stops himself. Who is he to question Death? To question God? Light has said himself he doesn’t really want to end Mikami’s life. He must have more confidence in his plan than he’s letting on.
Mikami swallows thickly. He nods. “Yes, sir.”
A couple of minutes later, he’s lying on his back on the sofa, naked, with Light in his lap. It’s searing hot where their bodies make contact.
Light folds the belt in half and puts it up to Mikami’s neck, trying out a few different positions. Once satisfied, he holds it down on either side so it presses into his windpipe. Not quite hard enough to keep him from breathing, but hard enough to make him a little lightheaded. Mikami’s hands slide up and down Light’s waist—a nervous fidget.
Light lets out a long breath. “Are you ready?”
With his heart beating high up in his throat, Mikami nods twice.
Nothing could stop the moan that spills from his lips when Light finally sinks down onto his cock. He’s perfect, warm and tight in all the right ways, covered in a sheen of sweat. Once he’s fully seated, his hips move in tiny circles that Mikami doubts are intentional, but it’s all he can do not to grab him and fuck him himself.
Light makes a low, breathy noise. A smirk forms on his face. “Is there something you want, Teru?”
Mikami swallows. Yes, yes, yes, one million times yes, but—“If—if you would like to carry on like this, sir, please don’t let me stop you.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Light bears down on the belt. It crushes into Mikami’s throat hard enough to hurt, hard enough to induce hypoxia in the next couple of minutes. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Mikami whines. “I’m sorry. Please…please fuck yourself on my cock.”
Light’s eyes gleam. His gaze is wild and uninhibited. “Is that all?”
No, that isn’t all Mikami wants from him, is it?
“I need you to strangle the life out of me.”
“Mm. Yes, the main event.” Light starts rolling his hips like he means it. “Imagine if someone was watching, Teru. Imagine if they saw me kill you and couldn’t do anything about it because I am Death. That powerlessness…do you think that’d turn them on the same way it does for you?”
He leans more of his weight onto his palms, cutting off Mikami’s air supply completely.
A massive head rush sets in as Mikami tries to gasp and fails, mouth gaping open fruitlessly. It’s all so overwhelming that for a moment he’s terrified, barely containing the urge to fight back, but that changes the second Light begins properly riding him. Suddenly, it’s far easier to wrangle his body’s leftover survival instincts.
Light leans down to kiss Mikami’s breathless lips, pupils blown so wide they nearly swallow his irises. “You’re so good for me,” he pants. “Even unto death.”
Mikami had already been somewhat oxygen-deprived from the pressure on his neck earlier. Now it’s enough to make him delirious with pleasure. The fear amplifies his arousal and his lungs burn, but no worse than how the rest of him aches for more. He’s lightheaded, euphoric, a roar of white noise building in his ears.
“Nothing to say?” Light grinds down hard and groans brokenly, applying splitting pressure to the belt. Mikami’s fingers, which have been planted against Light’s hips, dig into the soft flesh below. “You poor thing. I just wish you could see yourself now. You’re beautiful.”
Every part of Mikami burns blindingly bright. His vision is going spotty. But he’s so, so close, he’s right there…
“And to think the last thing you’ll ever do is cum for me.” Light grins like this is the greatest day of his life. “How perfect.”
Mikami falls over the edge, nails digging into Light’s hips as he spills inside of him, hips bucking weakly. Euphoria is the only sensation he can feel anymore. It surrounds him, smothers him, just like the creeping darkness that threatens to overtake his vision.
“Yes,” he hears Light hiss. “Fuck, yes.” His hand slides between their bodies so he can touch himself and Mikami wishes he could replace it with his own, but he’s fading faster, faster, faster…
He’ll wake in a few hours, but until then, his body will lie limp just like he’s really dead. The last thing he hears before unconsciousness takes him is the sound of Death’s laugh, chilling him to his bones.
He thinks it’s only fitting. Death is a deity in his own right, and God often inspires fear.