Work Text:
Light was trying really very hard to ignore what was going on beside him.
He was working. He was trying to work. He was trying to catch the world’s most prolific serial killer, and also incidentally rescue himself from a lifetime of imprisonment while his chainmate, his supervisor, his jailer and the three foremost detectives in the world was busily knotting a large bowl of bright red cherries with his tongue.
Light stared very hard at his Excel spreadsheet. Cells, he decided, were important. Enrapturing. These particular ones were, quite literally, depicting the powers of life and death, and he had never before been so fascinated. He could hear the little plink of L’s cherry seeds hitting the ceramic bowl Watari had brought along with the cherries.
He colour-coded a row, then assigned some conditional formatting.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
Finally, at the end of his rope, he spun around to face L. L looked up, one cheek stuffed.
“What,” Light said, “are you doing?”
L stared at him, wide-eyed and disturbingly innocent. He looked very much like a lemur. As Light watched, he swallowed what Light assumed to be the meat of the fruit, then stuck out his tongue, plucked a knotted stem off of it, and tossed it into his bowl.
Plink.
“Practising,” he said.
Light died several varieties of deaths. “What are you practising for,” he said, flat.
“I’ve been occupied,” L said. “For quite some time. Stuck in here with you. People always say it’s like riding a bicycle. But I’ve never found that to be true. Well. Not with this in particular — I’ve never gone so long without, so I wouldn’t know — but with skills more broadly, you understand.”
For a solid thirty seconds, Light considered telling L that he was in fact Kira after all. He wasn’t, but it would facilitate L putting him out of his misery.
“Okay,” he said, finally. “Well. I’m happy for you. Have fun.”
He spun back around.
“Would Light-kun like to try?” L said, from beside him.
Light turned around again.
“No,” he said. “Light-kun would not. Light-kun is busy doing Ryuzaki-san’s job. Can you please fu—could you please focus.”
L reached into his bowl and plucked out a fresh cherry. “Are you sure? It might not be as difficult as Light-kun thinks.”
“I don’t care if it’s difficult,” Light said. “You’re just being really, really annoying.”
L shook the cherry. It wobbled.
“Go on,” L said. “Give it a shot.”
Light exhaled, heavily. He shut his eyes, and opened them again. “Fine,” he said. “Fine. Whatever. I played clarinet in high school. I’ll tie your stupid cherry.” He held out his hand, but L pulled the cherry away.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he said. “Only good boys deserve fun.”
“What,” said Light.
“Tell me what tricks you’ve preformed,” L said. “Tell me why Light-kun deserves a treat.”
“I — what? I’m sorry?”
L grabbed the edge of the table and pulled his rolling chair forwards. He peered over Light’s shoulder. “Ah,” he purred. “I see Light-kun is using Microsoft Excel.”
“What the fuck,” said Light.
“What has my lovely Light-kun done with Microsoft Excel to earn himself a sweet?”
“I — I added conditional formatting? To the dates of death?”
“Mm,” L said. His voice was low and liquid, coiling dark. He leaned closer. Light could feel the heat of his body, hovering just above his shoulder. “Did Light-kun utilize a formula?”
“It — yes,” he said. His voice came out shaky. “I. Yes. It uses a formula.”
“Which functions does Light-kun’s pretty little formula use?” His voice was right next to Light’s ear. Light could feel the vibrations of it beneath his breaths.
“It uses an equal-to operator and an IF function to reference a table on a separate sheet.” Light said, breathless. Then he shook his head. This was the weirdest and most bewilderingly erotic thing that had ever happened to him. His stomach felt very tight and fluttery.
“Well,” L said. “Then he’s been a very good boy indeed. Open your mouth.”
Light did. L reached over and popped the cherry in between his lips. It was stuck for a moment, smooth and sweet, and then all of a sudden it was there, in his mouth, on his tongue. Light experienced a brief and very disorienting moment of bliss, then entirely forgot what he was doing and swallowed the cherry whole, stem, seed and all.
He looked up. L was staring at him, his black eyes wide. Light couldn’t see his pupils at all.
“Light-kun has a remarkable gag reflex,” L said, calmly.
Light swallowed again. His throat hurt from the stem. “I take a multivitamin,” he said, croakily. “It’s not chewable.”
“Mm.” L stood up. He tugged very lightly on the chain and Light, disoriented and compelled by the circumstances of his being, stood with him. He felt dazed.
L looked back at him, benign, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “Well, this day has been a bust,” he said, perkily. “I’m going to call it and make us some cheese and crackers. Maybe some tea.” He paused. “Unless …”
He was very, very clearly fishing for a response. Light stared at him. L stared back at him. After a moment, undeterred, L went on. “Unless Light-kun would like to come to our bedroom and help me practise.”
“I,” said Light. “I. I think.” He looked at L, who was watching him, unruffled. “Okay,” he said, weakly. “Okay. Yes. Let’s. If you really need the practise.”
L smiled at him. “Light-kun is very generous,” he said. “It’s much appreciated.” Then he coiled the chain once around his wrist, tugged very gently, and headed for the stairs.
Light glanced back at the computers, considered, then decided that he had, in fact, been very good all day. All week. Most of his life, in fact. If the very best detectives in the world said so, who was he to argue? He followed.
