Chapter Text
L hums, like she’s going to impart some profound wisdom, but all she says is, “What do you wish you were doing right now?”
Light is irritated instantly. In fairness, she’s irritated with L all of the time. Why does the person in charge of this investigation get to sit around while her suspect does all the work? “I wish you were helping me parse this data.”
L sighs. Like Light is the one being difficult.
Light often thinks about using their handcuffs to her own advantage: winding the chain around L’s throat, whipping it against L’s skin, and so on. Of course, she’s not actually going to do those things, and she only gets a pass for thinking about them because she’s being wrongly detained, and her wrongful detainment is the only reason those thoughts are so appealing.
“Well,” L says, “that’s not what I asked.”
“I’m trying to work.”
“Light-chan is so cruel to me.”
You have no fucking idea. “Fine. If it gets you to leave me be, I wish I was at home, alone, taking a hot bath.”
L’s thumb indents her bottom lip. Light isn’t looking, but she knows. “We can do that here.”
“We.” Light lowers her voice, glancing sheepishly around at the room of grown men. None of them seem to notice. They’ve probably learned to tune out all the bickering. “That’s exactly the problem.”
L shrugs, and blessedly, the conversation dies.
ᯓ★
Light’s feelings on the matter have changed by the end of the workday.
L has never told Light explicitly that she’s a lesbian. But for one, Light has eyes. For two, L has a staring problem. For three, Light is aware of her own charms, knows she’s beautiful, so she knows how it looks when a person is attracted to her, regardless of their gender. L is an impenetrable wall in all other respects, but Light has this one in.
She needs catharsis more than anything. If not catharsis, then any kind of edge over her captor. With each day that goes by, her resentment grows, a parasite consuming her from the inside out.
Also, she really does want a bath.
So when they step into their bathroom for what would be their nightly showers, Light says, “You know what? I’ve thought about your proposal, and I’ve changed my mind.”
L tilts her head, then seems to realize what Light is referencing. Her eyes narrow just so.
Light pops the button of her pants, tugs the zipper down. She shimmies out of the corduroy and kicks it from around her ankles.
Their showers are typically impersonal. One politely looks away while the other undresses (or at least Light looks away). They take turns standing under the spray all alone. Whoever goes first dries off while the other bathes. Honestly, after two months of this arrangement, Light hardly thinks anything of it.
Tonight is different. She feels L’s gaze as she unbuttons her shirt, dragging it out with a show of clumsy fingers.
“Perhaps it’s for the best,” L murmurs. “Light-chan has been so grumpy lately.”
Fabric slips from Light’s shoulders and dangles from their cuffs, pulling the chain toward the floor. She leans down to plug the bathtub drain and turn on the faucet. “Aren’t you going to get undressed?”
“Hm?”
“We’re taking a bath, aren’t we?”
The gears in L’s head turn, audible throughout her long pause. “What? I didn’t think…”
Like this isn’t exactly what you want. You can hardly keep your eyes on my face. “We’ve both been grumpy. We should try and unwind.”
L says nothing, doesn’t move, but Light knows she’ll crack. The only thing greater than L’s intelligence is her perversion. She won’t stop this so long as she’s getting a nice view of Light’s ass, which she is.
“Do we have any bubble bath?” Lips pursed, Light stands, unhooking her bra as she goes. She doesn’t take it off, just lets it hang from her shoulders. There is no bubble bath in the cabinet. But that’s okay, because when she lifts her arms to check, a gap forms between her bra and her chest, and she swears she hears L’s breath catch. “What’s wrong with you? You’re still wearing all your clothes.”
After some hesitation, L begins undressing.
Light settles on the edge of the tub and watches from the corner of her eye. L unlocks her own end of the cuffs, their discarded shirts falling to the ground. Light holds out her wrist next. It’s only when L slides the key into the lock that Light takes a proper look.
The fearsome detective is all skin and bones, small-chested with cute, puffy nipples and dark hair covering her body, especially thick under her arms and between her thighs. The view sets off sparks in Light’s gut, startling her. Her eyes linger on the swell of L’s hips.
Finally, their cuffs fall to the floor. L asks, “Like what you see?”
Damn her. Light shrugs off her bra in retaliation. L’s eyes flicker blatantly to her breasts. “Sorry.”
“It’s only natural to be curious.” But L’s voice has gone low and distant. She stares as Light slides out of her panties and steps into the water.
It is a nice tub, spacious enough for two people. Light submerges herself up to her collarbones. L, at the opposite end, does the same, ducking beneath the faucet. The sides of their legs press together, but even then, Light can almost forget L’s presence now that the handcuffs are gone.
The heat melts the tension in her muscles, soothes her aching bones. Breathing in the steam makes her feel more human than she has in months.
Light cracks open an eye to find that L looks just as content. Her long, dark hair spreads out around her like tendrils, her face flushed pink with the heat, eyelashes fanned over cheekbones, lips parted prettily.
Light has never thought of L as ugly, just unkempt.
“You have such beautiful hair.” Light sits up and winds one tress around her finger. “Have you ever tried conditioning it?”
L snorts. “Your backhanded compliments won’t work on me.”
“You can use some of my bottle. But first…”
L is so slight, so off her guard, that it’s easy to grab her shoulders and push her underwater. She comes up gasping, spluttering, like Light actually tried to drown her. “What the hell?”
“You’re so dramatic. I’m just trying to help.”
L opens her mouth, then notices how close Light has gotten, how she’s eye level with Light’s tits, and falters. Her face scrunches up in a pout.
Meanwhile, Light drizzles shampoo into her palm.
She washes L’s hair methodically. There is a lot of it, and most of it is tangled. Each time Light’s fingers snag, L’s eyelids flutter. But L gradually relaxes, hard lines of anger melting from her face as Light grazes long, filed nails against her scalp, massaging the shampoo in with her fingertips. Once Light has bundled L’s hair atop her head, she wipes away the suds about to run into L’s eyes. “Good. Was that so hard?”
“…It was actually quite nice. Thank you.”
Light flips her own hair over her shoulder. L eyes the exposed side of her neck. “We have to rinse it out now. I’m going to put you back under the water.”
L goes without a struggle, even when Light holds her down for longer than strictly necessary. They repeat this process once, twice, several times. In the end, Light sits L up and pushes her hair back from her face.
L’s eyes are wide—if Light was more presumptuous, she might use the word worshipful—with lashes stuck together in spikes, cheeks twice as rosy as they were before, lips even redder.
Light did have a plan going into this, intended to drag things out. She really was going to condition L’s hair. But it would be so easy to kiss her now. So she does.
L gasps. Her lips are softer than Light anticipated. Her hands rise to Light’s triceps, making contact but only just.
“Hey.” L pulls back an inch. “What are you doing?”
And oh, Light is ecstatic. Seeing L caught like this, knowing something is wrong but struggling against her own desire, sends a molten thud directly into Light’s stomach lining. The heat ricochets and spreads all the way to her fingertips. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“Right. That’s how I know you have some ulterior motive.”
So she doesn’t deny it. Light puts her chest to L’s, the diagonal press of their bodies slick with soap. “You suggested this bath in the first place. Don’t pretend like I’m the weird one.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Are you asking me to stop?”
L exhales. “That would be the professional response, yes.”
“Is it your response?”
For a second, Light thinks L will actually put an end to this. She can’t have that. So she reaches down and drags the end of her nail around L’s nipple, over and over in slow circles. The pits of L’s eyes go darker. Light takes the bud between her thumbnail and forefinger and pinches.
L surges up, capturing Light in a second kiss. Light’s grip on reality is knocked treacherously loose. She only knows there’s water hitting the floor and lots of maneuvering, L slamming her back into the opposite end of the bathtub, and then L is in her lap, straddling her thigh, squeezing it tight between her own. Her teeth stab into Light’s bottom lip and oh, oh, there’s the slickness of L’s cunt.
The world creeps back into focus: L breaking the kiss with blood on her teeth, sitting upright in all her spectral glory, veins blue under the bathroom light, breasts framed by a breakable ribcage. Light takes the hair at the back of L’s skull and yanks, watches her throat pop out from her neck. And L’s voice, always low and measured, goes high and loud and whiny and the sound is twice as delicious as the heat of the water. She rolls her hips against Light’s thigh. Doesn’t stop.
“Creep,” Light spits. She digs her nails into L’s hips. “You’ve wanted me for so long.”
L laughs, breathless. “How could I not?”
“You insist I’ve killed hundreds of people.”
“Thousands, more like.”
“And that would get you off, wouldn’t it? I bet you touched yourself while you surveilled me in my bedroom, in my holding cell.” Light was powerless then, nothing more than an exhibition, but now her nails draw blood from L’s body, and it cuts a dark path through the water. “Did you?”
“Y-yes,” L whines. “Not when you were living at home. But watching your spirit break in that cell was…”
Light should be disgusted. She is disgusted. She still slips a hand between her legs, hips jerking when her fingers brush her clit. “Tell me how you did it. What you thought about.”
“Ah… Light-chan just wants to—to make fun of me.”
“Like hell I do.”
L moves her hips faster. Her voice breaks over a moan.
“Don’t fucking cum yet.” And even Light’s not sure what’s taken over her. She’s a woman possessed. She doesn’t dislike it. “Tell me.”
“I would…” L sounds distraught, but she continues. “When you were asleep, I would watch you breathe and think about how easy it’d be to—mm… I’d sit in front of my monitor and rub myself through my underwear. After those first few days, you started to look so hopeless, sitting with your hands bound, staring into the camera. All you had was—was me, my voice, whatever mercy I decided to give you. And—and—fuck—the longer I’d think about it, the worse I’d want you to eat me out. I’d keep you in your handcuffs. On your cot. On your back. I’d sit on your face so you couldn’t speak or breathe and you—you would suffocate to death just like that, under my cunt, servicing me. A mercy kill.”
Light takes L’s neck between her teeth and bites.
L wails. Her fist thumps Light’s sternum. Light doesn’t know if it’s to cope with the pain or to make her stop. Light moans, keeps moaning, keeps rubbing circles into her clit. L’s voice pitches into a scream when her skin breaks.
Does L realize the depravity of what she described, or is she too filthy for even that? Light should grab her by the hair and slam her head into the wall until she’s twitching, unresponsive. Like putting down a dog. Like making this world a better place.
Light snarls into the bloody mess of L’s neck. “Do you know how often I’ve thought about ripping your arm from its socket with those stupid fucking cuffs?” She’s hardly conscious of what she’s saying. In fact, she’s not convinced this isn’t all a dream.
“Yes,” L sobs. “Ye-esss. You could—could—break my wrists—my fingers—”
“Fuck.” Light rubs herself faster. Her cunt is swollen, aching. She laps at L’s skin, gathering blood on her tongue.
“It’s funny,” L pants. “You act like you’re so much better than me, but really, we’re exactly the same.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re about to cum to the thought of dislocating my shoulder.”
Light’s fist flies up from the bath, knuckles landing between L’s ribs. L’s hips stutter. She produces a hurt, breathless noise that makes the room spin even worse. And through it all, she keeps moving, grinding. Light can feel when her cunt spasms, the pulse of it, the sweetness. She gets the pleasure of knowing it was a blow to the ribs that did L in.
It does Light in, too. Just as L goes limp, Light’s moans rise in pitch and volume. She works herself through the onslaught of bliss, all the while envisioning the purple and green she would like nothing more than to beat into L’s skin.
When it’s over, they recline there. L has slumped against Light’s body. Light holds her close. But she feels no post-coital tenderness. Only the immediate itch to do it all over again.
“Let’s get clean,” L says, her voice hoarse. (Right. That was where this all began, wasn’t it?) “I want to take you to bed.”
Light doesn’t know where she is, or how to get back to where she came from, or how to move at all. She only knows that somehow, she isn’t sober. She isn’t herself. Or maybe she’s more herself than she’s ever been. Still, her brain fires off what it knows is most polite: “Are you okay?”
L laughs. It isn’t bitter. It’s almost endeared. “As if you care.”