Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

L Lawliet’s career was going swimmingly. He had said goodbye to his dreary days of being an orphan back in Winchester, catching a flight to Tokyo to be the youngest professor ever hired at To-Oh University.

L had been nervous about staff being condescending or students not recognizing his expertise for being so young, but thankfully, both of these worries were unfounded.

What truly spelled the doom of his success was top scholar Light Yagami and his stupid dress shirts in a stupid amount of colors.

L can’t recall with exact precision how it all started, most likely because he blocked the conversation from his memory the moment Light asked that godforsaken question and he excused himself from the room, bolting from the building without ever giving Light an answer.

What he does recall is that a bright young man had enrolled into his Advanced English Language class at the start of the year. Although L immediately noticed how painfully vain Light was for his age, he always appreciated how engaged Light was during every lecture and his non-existent failure to participate even when the rest of the class seemed to shy away. Where L lacked in communicating and connecting with his students, Light made it up in encouraging his peers to engage in the lesson and leading class discussions.

L had made sure to let Light know of his appreciation, thanking the student for the enthusiasm and energy he brought to class each day as he walked out the door. Even now, L’s still unsure what got lost in translation and gave Light the perverse idea to walk up to his desk after class and proposition the professor.

L went home that day on the verge of a breakdown as he convinced himself he was going to lose his job after leaving so much behind to teach in Japan. Fortunately, no emails regarding the termination of his employment showed up in his inbox, not even when he triple-checked the the spam folder, but L still waited with bated breath for Light’s next move.

L thought he could avoid anymore close calls with getting fired by ignoring that the exchange happened in the first place, but the ever-ambitious student made sure to remind him that the offer was still on the table constantly. These reminders varied from innocent questions such as, “Any changes, Professor Lawliet?” to less-than-subtle innuendos, like “You know, I’d love to be an ‘active participant’ outside of class, too.”

After that, L had stopped bothering with the compliments, as Light obviously didn’t need anymore fuel to inflate his already impressive ego, and would run out the door before Light could even get out of his seat once class was dismissed.

This swift evasion of any extracurricular interaction with Light skidded to a halt when the student yelled, “Wait!” as the professor had one foot out the door. L’s face wrinkled into a grimace as he realized a few students were still gathering their belongings and had most definitely heard Light’s obnoxious plea. L didn’t want to look like an asshole that neglected his students when in need of assistance, so he had no choice but to stay behind and listen to what Light had to say.

The instant the door swung shut and the two were alone, Light cornered L against his own desk, hand angrily slamming against the pristine pine wood with a sudden thud.

“You can’t keep ignoring me forever, Professor. Need I remind you that I’m not just a student of yours? I’m an adult, too, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know what I want,” he paused as the professor looked at his shoes, tipping his head back up to look him in the eye with a finger under his chin. “When will you decide what you want?”

Corny, sure, but it still worked in weakening L’s resolve.

To L’s credit, he didn’t immediately fold, instead rattling off a very lengthy list of reasons why they can’t and shouldn’t engage in any inappropriate undertakings with each other. But after going back and forth for an indiscernible amount of time, L began to crack under the weight of Light’s stubborn seduction.

“Why don’t you trust me? I’m risking myself just as much by simply approaching you,” Light argued, and judging by the way L leaned into his hand, reluctantly shifting his gaze to the floor, he’d say he had done a pretty damn good job at it.

For the nth time, L questions why he’s going along with this. And for the nth time, he’s reminded when Light tugs him closer by a hand tucked into his waistband, sending a flash of heat to his lower belly at how handsy the boy is.

Light is no longer looking him in the eye anymore, busying himself with undoing L’s belt. But L can’t stop staring at Light, analyzing every minute change in expression, and he’s almost sure that the slight smile on Light’s face is purely out of self-satisfaction with the abundance of attention the professor is showering him with.

L remembers the first time they did this, how he used to struggle and complain a lot more. How Light had already shoved his hands down the professor’s pants before L remembered there was something very important he should know about.

“Ah, I should tell you now, before we get, ahem, started…,” L chirped, nervously adjusting his glasses. He prayed that Light would be okay with this, seeing as he's more than okay with sleeping with his superior. “I'm a transgender man. I haven't had bottom surgery, so…”

Light responded so quickly it made L jump. “I know,” and before L could recover enough to ask how, he added, “I saw you post about it online once.”

“...” L had been at a loss for words, to say the least. Light didn’t bother to disrupt the silence, either, which only made him feel more uneasy.

Puzzled doesn't even begin to describe what L had felt. The explanation Light offered only served to confuse him further, since L had stopped using any kind of personal social media long before he moved to Japan. Light must've done extensive research on him to find an account of his in the first place.

What the fuck? is what L wanted to say but ultimately decided against it, simply because he’d been too horny to have this conversation. Maybe he’d bring it up later, during some unorthodox and equally taboo kind of pillow talk they’d have in the lecture hall.

“Oh. Okay. That's,” L debated how to phrase it, “good to know--assuming you're okay with it and all?”

“Of course. I find you attractive regardless of what genitalia you're equipped with.” And with that, Light unzipped L’s trousers. “It makes no difference to me. You're beautiful either way, sir.”

Returning back to the present day, L looks down to find that Light has knelt down to place a kiss right above the thin, scraggly wisps of a happy trail peeking out from L’s boxers. He had always tried to resist Light’s flattery, but even now, L flushes and his hips cant embarrassingly into Light's hands of their own accord.

Little has changed since then, truthfully. They hook up (for lack of a better phrase) every so often, only ever on school grounds which seems incredibly counterintuitive and exponentially more precarious, but it’s what they’re used to: a quick fuck over the English professor’s desk.

L stands awkwardly stiff and awfully still while Light deftly undresses him, giving L the impression that he’s done this before. Light only unbuttons the top half of L’s shirt and leaves him in his boxers.

Rising back up to his full height, Light grabs the professor’s shoulders and turns him around, folding the man over his own desk with his pants dangling from his knees. L nervously peers at Light over his shoulder and the lens of his glasses as the student finally pulls his boxers down, resisting the urge to shiver at the parallel sensations of the cold air and Light’s meticulous gaze.

“Breathe in for me, okay?” Light mutters calmly, possibly even professionally, if you squint. His movements are so methodical, as if he’s about to put L to sleep before a very serious surgery rather than preparing to finger him.

Maybe Light intends to have the same effect on him regardless: anesthetize him or fuck him unconscious, L surmises.

L simply answers with, “Okay.”

L surprises himself with how docile he’s become. He chalks it up to the exhaustion and burnout catching up to him, anything but Light’s flirtations wearing him down. Regardless, L can’t seem to find the strength in himself to wiggle out of the lazy submission he’s snuggled into.

The cold press of a lubricated finger against his entrance makes L tense up at first, but he soon sighs into the sensation of Light rubbing his clit in languid circles. L gasps when Light slips his index finger inside, followed shortly by his middle. The moment L relaxes into it, Light roughly speeds up his ministrations, making him jolt suddenly. L would like to think the typically diligent student is simply eager to please, but truthfully, it just comes off as impatient.

“Ah…Y-Yagami-kun, please slow down,” L mutters, pushing his slightly foggy glasses back up his nose bridge.

Light chuckles, not slowing down for a moment, and L is momentarily distracted by the glint of his teeth in the ivory lecture room lights.

“I’m sorry, sir. I just can’t help myself,” Light softens his smile. “Sitting in a room full of people who have no idea how wonderful you sound when you moan makes it hard to hold back when I finally have you to myself.” His gentle expression paired with the nasty words makes L scowl.

Light shoves in deeper and L yelps, nearly moans when he hits a particular spot that makes him go dizzy. Embarrassed, L clamps a hand over his mouth, preventing any more scandalous noises from exposing how much he enjoys getting fingered by his very own student.

“Oh, L,” Light nearly purrs, taking one hand off of L’s hip to pry the professor’s hand away from his mouth. “Can I call you L? Don’t be like that, sir. I want to hear you.”

A whimper forces its way out of L’s chest as he muses upon why Light even bothered to ask for permission to use his first name when he’s been inside the older man about a dozen times by now, but to each his own.

Light’s fingers suddenly withdraw from L’s now soaked cunt, leaving the professor aching around the emptiness. Just as suddenly, Light unsheathes his cock and snubs the head against the lips of L’s dripping hole.

Light groans as he sinks into the tight warmth, chasing every intelligent thought from the professor’s brain with each inch. L falls forward with a surprised moan, cheek pressed into the wooden surface. One of his hands is crushed underneath Light’s unrelenting grip, punishing him for trying to hold back his moans, while the other scrambles to find a hold on the edge of his desk. The only thing that manages to calm him down is the worry that his panicked scrambling might leave scratches on his relatively brand new desk, the prospect of leaving evidence.

Quickly following the calm is a pang of something more than humiliation, disgrace perhaps, as L realizes he’s beginning to drool on the table. L worries about whether or not it’ll stain or perhaps wet one of the papers he’s annotating.

He snaps back to attention when Light’s pretty, breathy voice asks him, “Do you like this, L? Does it feel good for you?”

L tries to answer with some semblance of coherency, tries to offer feedback that might actually be helpful, but all he manages is a wobbly “Mhm” as he fervently nods his head up and down.

“Good,” Light moans, pressing in deeper as he steadily pulls L’s hips flush against his abdomen. “That’s so good, L. You’re doing so good for me.”

L doesn’t feel like he’s doing good. He feels like he’s drowning in an ocean of mind-numbing bliss, fretting over whether or not he can remember his name when he feels this good.

L’s vision blurs as his glasses slip even further down his nose bridge, jammed at an odd angle between his temple and the wooden desk, tossed about as Light ruts into him with less and less kindness. L strains to look at the young man in his periphery, accidentally stumbling upon eye contact and witnessing the way Light smirks at his, L supposes, rather dazed expression. L can only imagine what a vision he must make: drooling, half-dressed, bent over his own desk, and stuffed with cock.

L struggles to stand on the tips of his toes, fighting with the restraint of his barely undone belt and saggy trousers. Abruptly, it occurs to him halfway through that he’s practically offering himself up to Light--for Light to devour.

L curses at himself for acting so debased, but it’s too late to take the action back as Light drops his forehead and buries a groan into the professor’s back at the obscene gesture, grinding into the warm clench of his walls. With a guilty shudder, L revels in the spoils of his actions: the indulgent slide of Light’s shaft against the deepest trenches of his guts and the press of Light’s tip against his cervix.

While L’s vision is swimming in stars, Light huffs underneath his breath, “God, you’re so slutty,” and L nearly comes from the live wire shock that runs through his body at that word--slutty.

It’s so immature, almost derogatory: a word which L never would have expected to come out of perfect little Light Yagami’s mouth. But what thrills L so much is how genuine he sounded. There wasn’t an ounce of vitriol or disgust in Light’s voice, no indication that he meant any offense by the statement. In fact, L doesn’t even know if Light meant to say it out loud. To Light, it’s nothing but an observation, an objective reality, that Professor Lawliet is a vapid slut.

“No! You-You’ve got it all wrong.” L hates how whiny he sounds. “I- oh, I’m not,” he insists, coyly avoiding saying the word he’s protesting against.

L cries, jumping at the feeling of Light’s hand curling around his torso to stroke his t-cock. Light hums, pleased at the way L tightens around him in response to the stimulation.

“But you are. I can tell from the way you hug me so perfectly,” Light practically pants, “Tell me the truth, now. Are you close, L?”

L worries his bottom lip between his teeth before professing, “Yes. I-I need to come. Please let me come, Yagami-kun.”

Light snickers, but stops before it makes L mad. “Here, I’ll make you a deal,” he presses a kiss to L’s sweaty temple as he slows down the tempo of his thrusts. Light whispers into the professor’s ear, “All you have to do is admit how much you love my cock, and I’ll let you come. How’s that sound?”

L chokes around a sob, “That’s not fair! I can’t say that.” He’s kicking his feet now, leaning his entire body on the desk and thrashing underneath Light’s weight. “Light,” L hisses through grit teeth, his nerve endings burning with how close he is to the verge of climax.

“You can, L. All you have to do is tell me the truth. You don’t want to lie to your precious student, do you?”

L hates when Light pushes him this far. Each time, he can feel his eyes prick with salty, stinging tears. He tries to fight it, keeps his lips shut tight, but he really is starting to forget what his last name is, and he can hardly make out what Light is telling him to do now.

L hiccups, tears streaming down his face as his final sliver of self-restraint evaporates, and wails, “I-I love your cock so much, Light! Please, please, let me come!”

Light’s reaction is immediate, hammering into L’s pussy with abandon. “Perfect, sir, oh my god- You’re perfect,” Light sighs. “You can come now. I want you to show me how much you love my cock.”

And orgasm takes L, white sparks dancing across his vision as he squirms on Light’s cock. Light fucks little starstruck oh ’s out of his spent professor, savoring the quiet contentedness of the bratty older man.

When his senses finally return, the first thing L registers is how utterly exhausted he is. The next this he notices is that Light is still fucking into him, almost clumsily.

The stuttering stop-and-start of Light’s thrusts--it makes L thirst to see him completely stripped of that golden boy persona he always wears.

L can feel the student’s hot breath against his bare shoulder, and trembles at the way Light whines when he curls his hand into the tousled brunette hair. It occurs to L that he wants to hear more of those sounds from Light.

Continuing to pet his hair, L murmurs, “Go ahead, Yagami-kun. You’ve done such a good job. You can come inside.” He’s on birth control, anyways.

Unfortunately, L doesn’t get to hear what wonderful noise Light might’ve made when he comes. His short-lived disappointment is disrupted though, when pain blooms up his neck as Light sinks his teeth into L’s bony shoulder. He lets out a surprisingly satiated sigh.

…Until he recalls that he’s got a staff meeting tomorrow and, shit, he’s going to have to hide that.

Chapter Text

L doesn’t know how they ended up here.

“Light please,” L hisses quickly, ripping off the shame like a bandaid. Trapped between Light’s unyielding weight and a desk, L has little choice but to beg. But that’s not the part that’s unfamiliar to him.

“What?” Light urges, voice teetering on a growl. “What do you want, Professor? Use your words. Isn’t that what adults are supposed to do?”

“Please, not in front of everyone else…w-we can’t,” he sputters, eyes darting between Light and their audience consisting of all his fellow classmates. “I'm begging you, Light.”

What has L sweating are the rows of desks with L’s very own students sitting behind them, eyes shrouded in darkness, almost certainly ogling him, looking down on him for such a debased performance. Mouths are hidden behind hands in disbelief, or otherwise held up to their neighbor’s ear to whisper denouncements of the play happening in front of them.

Despite L’s desperation, Light seems resolute to play the role he's been cast, and even more resolute to ensure L does the same. 

Light pitches his hips forward, nudging his clothed erection between the plush of L’s bare ass cheeks. L gasps, high-pitched and dramatic, and tries to wiggle away only to be met with the unrelenting dig of a wooden desk into his stomach.

Dangerous, he thinks. What him and Light are doing right now is dangerous, unexplored territory. Their actions are far past risky; L’s life will certainly be ruined by this debacle, irreparably.

But, L struggles to accept, their relationship has always been dangerous, since the moment Light shook his hand on the first day of class. L just didn’t know it back then.

Stripped naked and bent over the very desk he grades their spectators’ assignments on, L is powerless against the brunt of everyone’s disappointment, as well as the brunt of Light’s cockhead pressing a kiss against the lips of his pussy.

Light curls a single hand around L’s nape, forcing his face into the desk at the same moment his tip squeezes inside L’s cunt. L chokes on his moan, every possibility besides complete and utter submission completely crushed the moment he feels the perfect fit of Light's cock inside of him. His eyes water, and distantly he thinks he hears someone say, poor Professor…

“W-why…why’re you doing this, Light? I c-can’t…” L’s voice fails him, cracking under the weight of his sobs and hiccups. He squirms, but Light keeps him steady with a hand on the back of his neck, tight as a collar, as he thrusts to the rhythm of L’s teary hiccups.

“Because,” Light’s voice is firm, controlled even in front of an audience, “I’m worried you might be showing favoritism towards me, showing me and only me a side of yourself that you hide from my peers,” Light leans in, hot breath tickling the spiral of L’s ear. “And that's not fair, is it? All this time, you’ve been hiding your true nature from the rest of your precious students.”

“That’s not true- oh! ” Light shuts him up as he shifts the angle of his hips, driving over and over into L’s vulnerable g-spot. He grabs L’s hair, forcing him to face the crowd of murmuring students.

“Everyone knows who you truly are now. There’s no need to lie anymore. Please, inform the class how much of a slut the esteemed Professor Lawliet is.”

L struggles to refuse Light verbally, something about the nauseatingly sweet way Light's words settle into his brain and scramble his thoughts, sentience short-circuiting as he feels Light carve out a place for himself inside of L.

“Please,” L gasps, “It’s too much, Light, too mu-uch…” His sentences start to slur, words bleeding into each other as his tongue grows lazier the closer he gets to coming.

When Light chuckles, L hears a clamor of laughs follow: the rest of the class laughing along with him. “Seriously, L? Are you seriously going to come in front of the whole class? I knew you were a whore, but you continue to surprise me with how shameless you are!” The insult is scathing, but all L can detect in Light's tone is praise, or maybe pride.

L tries to protest, but his vocabulary fails him. All he can process is the incessant ringing of an oncoming climax in his ears, until he realizes the ringing isn’t an orgasm, but rather--

L startles awake, shirt sticking to his back with sweat. Unconsciousness fades from his body as awareness takes its place, and the unfortunate memory of his unprofessional dream stays with him. So does the embarrassment.

A knock on his front door snaps him out of his daydreaming; a quick succession of several raps, impatient and obnoxious, comes rumbling afterward.

“Coming!” L croaks, throat dry with exhaustion. Whoever is outside responds with another three rings of his doorbell.

L clicks his tongue, not bothering to put his glasses on as he runs to open the door for whatever ill-mannered brat is abusing his doorbell at 9 AM on a Saturday. L opens the door, and in front of him stands the person he desires to see the absolute least right now.

“Light Yagami,” he deadpans. Ill-mannered brat, indeed.

“L Lawliet,” Light answers with a little more enthusiasm. His eyes wrinkle with that artificially sweet smile he practiced in the mirror while his crisp white button-up is smooth as butter.

L rubs his face, exasperated. “Have you come to torment me on the weekends as well, Light? And why the hell are you wearing a backpack?”

The boy smiles, good-natured as always. “Don’t be silly. I just wanted to meet my professor to seek some…advice, on an idea I have in mind.” Light tries to side-step into the apartment, but L blocks him. Then, he pouts. “This isn’t a very warm welcome.”

“Good. I’m glad. I hope it’s the worst, most coldest welcome you’ve ever experienced.”

Light scowls, “Fine. Then I’ll just say my piece out here. L, I want to try blindfolding you while we have se-”

“OH my god, shut the fuck up right now, you bastard,” L ramble-rushes to talk over him and hopefully smother whatever career-destroying nonsense Light was about to say with his full chest. He pulls Light through the door by his shirt collar before promptly shutting it. “What the hell is your problem?”

“Pardon the intrusion, and thank you for letting me in, finally. Maybe now we can have a civil conversation?”

Light, once he swats himself free from L’s white-knuckled grasp, slides his feet into L’s slippers (neglected and barely worn, as L prefers to walk around his own house in utmost comfort, i.e. barefoot). Light waltzes into the living room, confident even on a new playing field. He sets his bag down without bothering to ask L where he’d like him to put it.

L stomps towards his bedroom, back turned towards Light as he insists, “We are not having a conversation about… that.”

Light follows and closes the door behind them, which L does not fail to notice. “Awh, why are you so boring?” Light frowns emphatically, to which L merely scowls. Even though it's his bedroom, he feels like he just walked into a lion’s den. “I just wanted to have a little fun over the weekend. Or do you only like fucking in places where your classmates and colleagues can walk in on you at any time?”

L suppresses a flinch at the reminder of his wet nightmare. “You’re outrageous,” L says, breathless and hot (with rage, trust him) as Light brandishes a small black cloth clutched in his fist. L crosses his arms, shakes his head, and stubbornly sits down on his bed. “Unbelievable.”

“And you love it. Look at you, bright red from just thinking about it. Aren’t you at least a little bit curious? Imagine how exciting it’ll be, sir,” and there it is again with the kiss-up title.

Light only ever calls him sir these days when he wants something, like Thank you for considering my circumstances, sir. Won’t you bless my poor little soul with an extension? or “Come on, sir. You’ll love the blindfold, I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I don’t trust you!” L throws up his arms. Amusement colors Light's face, a reaction warranted not because L doesn't often get pissed at him, but because he doesn't tend to show it as viscerally as he does now. It’s charming, in a way, to see him act like this, almost childishly.

Light covers his heart with both hands, play-acting offense. “How your words wound me! After all this time? You still don’t trust me?” And yes, with the way Light is slowly inching closer, cornering him against the bed, L feels rather justified in his distrust.

L stops Light from getting any closer, although he’s already invaded L’s personal space, by planting his bare foot against the student's chest. Light’s face wrinkles with something like disgust or annoyance, but he quickly wipes the nasty look off his face.

Light tries to lean forward, but L’s foot doesn’t let up in the slightest, pressing against Light’s chest with equal force. Locked in a standstill, the two men size each other up while exchanging glares.

“L,” he tentatively starts. “Don’t be difficult.”

“Then stop being a demanding asshole,” L grumbles.

Anyone less perceptive, less attentive, less obsessive over his professor wouldn’t notice, but Light does; Light catches it at the last second: L’s eyes drifting past him, glancing over his shoulder.

Light’s brain realizes what’s about to happen before his body can act. 

L kicks him in the heart, leveraging the momentum to roll off the bed.

He lunges for the door, arm stretching for the knob, and then-

A hand slithers around his ankle and sends L crashing face first into the cherry wood-stained floor.

Light crawls on top of him, huffing and puffing the whole way, before plopping down on L’s back. Light’s weight pins him down, squeezing a strained exhale from L’s defeated lungs.

“Not fair,” L grumbles into the floor. “You’re younger, taller, and heavier than me. You should’ve given me a head start, out of respect for your elders.”

“Ha! Don't make me laugh,” Light quips, despite already laughing, “You did get a head start. Don’t give me that shit just because you’re a sore loser.” He purposefully shifts more of his weight onto L, forcing another pained wheeze from the older man.

Light bows his head, so close that his lips graze L’s ear as he lowers his voice to a murmur, “Please, sir. I try my best to make you feel good, and don’t I? Don’t I make you feel so good every single time? Just tell me what it takes. What would it take for you to trust me?”

L swears under his breath. He can’t fucking think like this. He can feel his brain slowing down to a snail’s crawl, growing acutely aware of how Light’s depraved temptations have eroded his resolve. L struggles to breathe, blaming it on Light’s suffocating weight instead of the helplessly familiar sting of tears in his eyes.

“What’s stopping you?”

L drops his forehead to the floor, refusing to let Light see just how much he’s ruined him. “Get off of me first,” L sniffs, “Then we’ll talk.”

L had forced Light to take a seat, in a proper chair this time, before lecturing him on why people don’t show up at their professor’s front door unannounced and don’t tackle people, especially in their own home, regardless of their age.

Ultimately, the two men reached an agreement, which L’s brain automatically filed away in a folder titled legally-binding contracts.

But even now, as L reclines against the pillows of his bed, vision smothered by a black cloth wrapped tightly around his head, he begins to doubt whether or not he used his best judgment. Actually, now that Light has stepped out of the room (to “get in the mood” or whatever), L begins to question his entire relationship with Light.

He can admit that his student had been right, at least about the physical pleasure he gains through their encounters. But Light’s seamless manipulation of L, and the ease at which it comes to him, makes L sweat with a quiet sense of terror. Concerns bounce around in his head like a screensaver, set to the dark backdrop of a blindfold.

Before Light, L’s life consisted of sleepless nights, thankless work days, and complete devotion to his career. He limited his masturbation to once or twice a week in favor of maximum productivity and minimum distraction. Guilty pleasures rarely arose, since everything L did, he deemed necessary enough to not feel any shame for it.

Light, though? Light Yagami was an unforgivable blemish on L’s otherwise pristine record: a scandal waiting to happen. Sometimes when L closed his eyes before bed, not too dissimilar to his current position, all he could see were headlines about his illicit affair with a student and the accompanying mugshot of his regretful face.

Maybe that was the latent meaning of his wet dream. Maybe L was worried that his offense would be exposed for the public to gawk at. If it came to that, it wouldn’t just be sexual humiliation he was stewing in; he would have to face the humiliation of moving back to England, confronting his fossil of a grandfather, and admitting that pursuing his ambitions was a mistake.

L repeats the safeword they had agreed upon like a mantra in his head: Beyond Birthday. L cringes at the two conflicting emotions that had immediately sprung up in response to Light’s proposal of this phrase: concern over the ethics of using a serial killer’s alias as a safeword, versus delight that Light had read this week’s assigned case already.

Also, L would technically be saying another man’s name in bed if the need to utilize the safeword ever presented itself, which was an argument L wishes he came up with before he complied with the only idea they could come up with.

A realization suddenly slaps L across the face, and the burn of irritation lingers. He had given into Light’s desires, again. Honestly, L couldn’t even be cross with his student anymore; it was entirely his own fault.

Time and time again, he let Light win without putting up a real fight. How could he be dissatisfied with the results when he wasn’t putting in any effort to change them in the first place? No wonder it was so easy for Light to bend L to his will; L had been doing it to himself!

L steels himself then, resolving not to opt for the path of least resistance, to fight for what’s right, before the creak of his bedroom door interrupts his internal monologue.

Footsteps, then the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Light?” L calls out, wetting his lips when he notices how dry they are.

The bed shifts when Light takes a seat next to him. He caresses the side of L’s face, tender and brave now that L’s endlessly inquisitive eyes are hidden under a cloth. 

“Yes, sir? Did you already start to miss me?” he teases, although his voice is utterly oversaturated with what L assumes is every grain of gentleness in Light’s body. “Pretty boy. You stayed so still for me. I’m so proud of you.”

L scoffs. “Right, yes, thank you. Please get on with it, already. Yagami-kun has wasted enough of my weekend.”

Light chuckles. “Sorry, sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

Light tips L’s head up by the chin, and a soft kiss presses against his waiting lips. L hums, leaning up off the bed to reciprocate. L’s hand pats around in search of a shoulder to hold onto, only to be grabbed firm by the wrist. L tests the restraint, jerking his hand away to no avail.

Light pulls away from the kiss. “No touching,” he whispers as he guides L’s hand back down, folding his arm behind his back. “Remember? You promised to stay still, to  keep your hands to yourself. Are you going to keep your word?”

Oh, yeah. L had been so distracted by the novelty of being blindfolded, he completely forgot that they had also agreed to introduce this aspect into their little bedroom trysts. L nods, tucking his other arm underneath himself.

“Mhm. I will. I promised, after all,” L assures, cradling each elbow in the opposite hand. He smiles cheekily, “Unlike Light-kun, I don’t play dirty tricks on people to get what I wa--”

L yelps as a hard flick lands upon his nose.

“Watch your tone. I don’t appreciate the attitude. You know, I could get up and leave you here, whenever I want. Leave you needy and wanting.”

The professor huffs, face red with equal parts arousal and frustration. “Light-kun’s bluffing. You’re so desperate to get your dick wet, it’s pathetic.”

L braces for second scolding, maybe a slap this time, but all that comes is the crisp sound of a zipper being undone. L grins shakily, admonishing himself for the flicker of heat he feels from that familiar sound alone.

“Since you love to run your mouth so much, how about we put it to good use, hm?” L imagines Light brandishing his flushed dick, lining it up in front of his own wavering smirk. “You better give it your all, because this is the only lubrication you’re getting before your cunt takes my cock. Although, I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I can practically feel you soaking through your pants right now.”

“This won’t be for a grade, will it?” L tries to laugh, but the attempt is quickly aborted as the head of Light’s cock unabashedly presses against his lips. L would be disgusted, but mostly he just feels the lukewarm sparks in his stomach burst into a scorching hot flame.

Obediently, he parts his lips as Light slides forward, only halting when the tip bumps against the entrance of L’s throat. Above him, L can hear Light groan, guttural and hoarse. For just a moment, L regrets being blindfolded, only because he can no longer bear witness to the way Light’s face twists with pure pleasure.

A whine reverberates through the professor. With his lips stretched around Light’s dick, all L can think of is more.

“So- so fucking good, sir,” his voice is quiet, roughened by arousal. “Your mouth is so perfect. You’re so perfect, made for me…”

L wishes he could roll his eyes in Light’s face, seeing as he can’t communicate his distaste for Light’s sappiness any other way. Still, L feels himself slip down, down into the tips of his toes, ticklish at the sentiment that he might’ve been made for Light. Too lovey-dovey for his tastes, and yet L basks in the glow of Light’s possessiveness. 

He’s always had a repulsively sweet tooth, but L thinks Light has finally molded him into a complete glutton. Perhaps his inability to deny Light’s desires doesn’t stem from his student’s expert seduction, but rather his unmatched ability to recognize who L is and what he hungers for most profoundly.

Maybe that makes them perfect for each other, in some awful way; the greed in one calls out to the gluttony in the other. L is only human, after all, and like everyone else, he is wired with the instinct to consume.

With a flourish of his hips, Light begins bucking into L’s mouth. His shallow, wet thrusts and obnoxious shouts of praise remind L to apologize to his neighbors later.

Slowly, an obtrusive sense of panic nestles inside his chest in place of oxygen. L’s eyes flutter shut as he feels a tear drip down his cheek. He sobs out a moan as Light fucks a few more tears out of him. L instinctively squeals and thrashes against his self-imposed restraints as he grows more and more lightheaded.

Charitably, Light spares L any further acute suffocation, pulling out before it becomes too much for the youthful college student. As he relearns out how to breathe evenly and blood rushes back to his head, he realizes the only other noise in the room is Light’s heavy panting. L licks his lips again, unaware of how Light’s eyes eagerly admire their bright pink flush.

“Well? Aren’t you going to fuck me already?”

Light chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I will. Be patient.”

L grumbles, “You’re the one who wanted to do this. Hurry up.”

“So demanding,” Light teases, but L can hear the irritation teetering into his voice. He slips L out of his pants and allows L to untangle his arms for just a moment as he helps him out of his shirt. Light continues, “I wish you could just admit that you want this just as much as I do. Maybe I just don’t want to catch you off guard by moving too fast. Oh, well. Since you insisted-”

Light slams into L with no warning, fingers digging into the professor’s bony waist, just like he promised. L screams, taken aback by the sudden change in pace and attitude, muffled into a whimper when he bites down on his lip.

“Ha-ah, Light, s-slow down,” L stutters, before adding, “Please.”

“Good boy,” Light coos, sweet as honey. “Because you asked so politely.”

Light obliges and reduces his tempo to languid undulations of his hips. His hand travels under L’s shirt, up his torso to tease his nipples. L moans, loud and indulgent, arching into the touch of his favorite student. He humps in tandem to Light’s thrusts, chasing the thrill of a climax that’s been delayed since he woke up.

But Light still isn’t playing nice. He squeezes L’s waist, pulls out, and grinds against L’s drooling cunt. L, mind hazy with desperation, makes a small confused sound, not dissimilar to a squeak. He tries to wiggle out of Light’s grip, to somehow push himself onto Light’s cock, but his movements are utterly uncoordinated. Light applauds the attempt though, considering L is unable to see at the moment.

“Hmm…I don’t know if you’ve earned the privilege of coming just yet.” Light taps his chin for show, even if L can’t see it.

For a frightening few seconds, L can only hear his heartbeat, quickening as he tries to think of what he could possibly say to convince Light to please just put his cock back inside and let him fucking come already.

And that’s when, without thinking, L sacrifices his dignity: “I’ll-I’ll tell you a secret.”

L thinks the brief silence means Light is contemplating. “What secret?”

“You… You were in my dream last night--er, this morning. When you knocked on the door, when you woke me up…I was dreaming of you,” tripping over his own words with how hurriedly he’s trying to persuade Light because, in truth, he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait.

“What was I doing in the dream?” Light’s voice flutters, breathy. He coughs to clear his throat.

L knew this was coming, and yet, delusionally, he still hoped that Light wouldn’t ask this question. But still, he knew. “You were.. f-fucking me. On my desk, in front of--”

“In front of who?”

L feels incredulous. It doesn’t take a genius to fill in the blanks, but Light decides to cut L off before he even stopped talking. Light decides to tease him.

“...Everyone.”

L lets him.

“In front of everyone in the class,” L repeats, simultaneously relieved and horrified to confess, to rid this secret from his conscience. “All of my students, some you know and some you don’t.”

Light groans, barely stifled by the teeth buried in his bottom lip, sharp and punishing. L doesn’t miss the faint squelch of Light jerking himself off to L’s retelling.

His eyes sting, like salt in a wound, as a voice in the back of his head sings with desire. It’s not fair, that Light can ruin him and witness the product of his destruction while L is kept in the dark.

“Please, Light? I need to see you. I need to come, I just n-need…”

L chokes off a sob when Light kisses his forehead. L nearly feels safe in his arms. “Good job, sir. You’ve made me so proud, being so honest with me and using your words.”

When L can see again, he has to blink a few times to readjust to the light. The first thing he sees is his beloathed student above him, smiling as he tosses the blindfold over his shoulder. L’s eyes take in the beige blazer and an apple red tie Light is wearing, which dangles so low it nearly tickles his chest.

He is wearing his high school uniform, L registers. The one he saw in yearbooks and family photos he managed to weasel out of Light after enough whining, which is exactly what L does now; he whines, high-pitched and humiliating, because Light looks unfairly good in his old high school uniform.

It’s like the institution designed it solely for him, pulled him in for fittings and asked his opinion on the fabrics. Every detail, color, and stitch complements the boy immaculately, even now, despite all the years passed. Christ.

After giving L a moment to soak in Light and all of his glory, he decides that’s enough time and his tip breaches L’s pussy, forcing a stammered gasp from the speechless professor.

Light scoffs. “Really? Getting off on seeing me in my high school uniform? You’re so easy, L.”

L shudders at the use of his first name, not professor , nor sir , simply L: himself, in the flesh, at his core. Still, he makes his best attempt at smirking and defiantly looks Light straight in the eyes. “Light…This is ridiculous. Y-You’re absolutely ridiculous. I can’t believe you would- would-!”

Light laughs, bright and mocking, a laugh straight from his charcoal heart. “It’s okay, darling,” Light coos, patronizingly kissing his cheek. “I won’t make you say it this time, because deep down, you and I both know the truth. You can criticize me all you want for knowing what I like, but who knew you were such an exhibitionist?”

As Light leans back, L’s eyes chase him, watery in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. “Nn..No… It was just a stupid dream, I’m not…”

Light shushes him, rolls his hips and stimulates L’s g-spot in hopes that it calms him down. “It was your dream, L. Even unconsciously, you like to project your fantasies onto me.”

L hiccups, but he can’t even shake his head, can’t even deny it. Light readjusts L’s legs, wrapping them around his waist so L’s lower half clings to him. Their bodies link together, like a pair of handcuffs consummating the mutual liability of their partnership.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. What matters is that you told me in the end, that you were honest with me. And for that, I forgive you.”

L doesn’t know what he is doing anymore. Are they still student and professor? Are they still only fuckbuddies? Why is he still here, pretending his hands are bound behind his back?

Something L does know, though, something Light forced him to know, is that he wants this. L likes this. L likes the way Light ruins his life, takes a crane to the future L has built meticulously and demolishes it because he was made for something more than this.

“Light, Light,” L chants, eyes dauntlessly looking into Light’s.

“Yes?” Light brushes L’s bangs out of his face. “What is it? Tell me.”

“I lo-love you.” When the first admission comes out, L can’t stop the rest of them from tumbling from his traitorous mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He only shuts up when Light buries him in adoring kisses, quickens the pace of his thrusts until they’re both moaning into each other’s mouths.

When they pull apart for breath, L still can’t stop saying it, confessing his love as he comes apart on Light’s cock.

“Fuck,” Light curses. L feels so, so good. He doesn’t know what else to say, except: “I love you, too,” and Light comes like that.

For perhaps the first time in their relationship, they don’t immediately get up to clean their mess after ejaculating. For the first time, L and Light lie next to each other on a bed and stay next to each other after sex, even with his tie loosened and blazer mussed up.

For the first time, L finds himself thinking he’d like to do this again sometime.