Work Text:
“I’d like you to stay and assist me tonight.” You turned your head up, eyebrows raised in surprise. “If you wouldn’t mind?” he added quickly. He was already looking at you when your eyes met, a beat of silence passing tensely.
“Of course.” You responded, lowering your bag back onto the coffee table, “I’ll call my roommate to tell him I won’t be home.”
You stepped from the hotel, the ring of your cell fading into the back of your mind as you tried to settle your thoughts. It shouldn’t make you as nervous as it did, the thought of staying after with L, just the two of you. It wasn’t a date. You were trying to solve a mass murder case. The night would likely involve poring over hours of surveillance footage or sifting through mountains of files in silence.
Still…
*Please leave your message after the tone. Beep*
“Hey! Work’s going to keep me later than I thought. Don’t wait for me, I probably won’t be home until morning…”
You hung up the voicemail, letting out a sigh. It was so stupid. You had been nothing but professional with each other, even more so than you had been with other people you’ve worked with. Even on the task force, socializing came much more easily to you with the others. L was perpetually distant, making it even more of an anomaly as to why you had become so fond of him. You listened with rapt attention to his deductions, silently smiled at his odd mannerisms, and endured long hours of tedious work, heartened by the prospect of spending time around him. You truly didn’t know anything about him, not enough for serious feelings to take hold. It was just…admiration. Intrigue. Fascination. You just liked eccentric genius types, you supposed. It made the emotional toll of this investigation a little easier to bear. It was like being back in school, having someone to look out for in the halls, dressing up a little nicer, raising your hand for a question you might have been too shy to answer if you weren’t looking to impress.
It was a fitting analogy for the kind of love you had for him. Shallow. Childish. You were neither bold nor naive enough to pursue him. When Kira was caught, you would go your separate ways, and he would disappear. You were fine with that. Until then, these feelings would just be something at the back of your mind, something you took notice of, then let pass.
With another deep breath, you reentered the hotel room.
“Sorry,” You apologized, turning off your phone and settling on the loveseat.
“There’s no need to apologize. Though you could have made your call in front of me.”
“I also just needed to step out.” You reached above your head, stretching with a few audible pops in your back, “I’d go stir crazy if I had to be cooped up in this room without a break.” You mused, laughing lightly.
“You are under no obligation to stay.” He said, his tone untwined by any of the lightness you tried to inject, “I understand that what I am asking of you was not previously agreed upon. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you prioritized sleep.”
“No,” you insisted, “If you need me here, I’m happy to stay.”
“I would hardly call it a need. I could easily complete this work myself. I just find it tedious…” He turned his attention back to the screen in front of him, thumb pressed against his lip.
You huffed. Right, he didn’t need you. Of course he didn’t.
“Well, I’m not one to go back on my word.” You settled, taking a paper from the top of a very thick pile, “It will be quicker between the two of us.”
“My thoughts exactly…”
From there, there was silence between you, filled only by the hum of the monitor and rustling of paper. Your mouth stretched in a yawn as the hours passed, strings of words blurring together. You rubbed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You glanced at the late hour displayed on the clock, then at L. He was seated just where he was before, crouching with his knees up to his chin, eyes wide and unblinking. He hadn’t moved in all the hours you’d been together.
You wondered how he did it. You wondered if he was tired, if his eyes hurt, if his joints felt stiff. Or maybe those things were beneath L, someone who operated like a computer with legs, able to sit and stare with no needs beyond the input and output of information. His skin glowed under the light of the screen, taking on a celestial quality, like your own personal moon.
You hadn't realized you were staring at him, far longer than an acceptable glance. You could make the excuse that you were just taking a break from squinting at tiny text, no. He was particularly easy on the eyes…
“Do you need something?” Shit.
“No- no, I'm fine.” You ground the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if trying to retroactively scrub his face from your burning retinas.
He observed you for another few moments. To him, your actions bordered on performative, practically begging him to take action.
“...I’ll have Watari bring up some coffee for us.” He decided. He didn't feel particularly tired, but he had a suspicion you would refuse if he ordered it just for you.
“Thanks…” You yawned.
He didn't return to his screen, eyes trained on you. Your movements were heavy and lethargic. The skin under your eyes had already begun to darken, tinged by acute tiredness. He made no mention of this to you, how obvious it was that you were drifting off. He watched you recline, a hand tossed over your eyes. He watched the rise and fall of your chest deepen, evening out into sleep.
“Watari,” He dialed, “An extra pillow and blanket to the room, please.”