Work Text:
4am. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Half asleep. The obnoxiously loud sound of your ringtone blared beside you as you abruptly sat up and flipped open your phone, “Hello…?”
“It’s me. The investigation has hit a dead end, I think your presence would help move things forward,” L paused for a moment, considering his next words, “Watari will organise your flight here and anything else you may need, if you’re willing.”
You began to wipe your eyes, pulling your duvet over you so you weren't exposed to the cold, “Of course I’m willing, I’ll call him tomorrow and we can work out the details.”
“Thank you. It seems as though I have woken you up, go and get some rest.” He ended the call as soon as he’d finished his sentence, and you flopped back down on your bed.
And just like that, it had been 3 long months since you’d joined the Task Force to help with the Kira investigation. Whenever you received a late night call from L, you knew he needed you; that things were getting serious. This time was no exception.
You darted your eyes across a fresh pile of documents delivered to you by Watari, detailing the names and faces of Kira’s latest victims, as well as the crimes they had committed. You furrowed your brow as you tried to make sense of the connection between the victims, tapping your nails on the desk in front of you. As soon as you were actually getting somewhere, you felt L’s unyielding gaze land on you. Glancing over at him to match his stare, you witnessed him dangle a strawberry from the top of his fresh slice of cake between his fingers and bite into it; he didn't break eye contact for even a second.
In truth, you were used to him doing this. You grew up together at Wammy’s House, inseparable since the day you arrived. You weren't long after him, but he was the only person who seemed unimpressed by your arrival. Something about that made him feel safe, and also a pillar of normality. Well, as normal as things could get in an orphanage.
As you got older, it became clear to everybody that you had no interest in being his successor, so your role was simple—be the right hand woman to the world's greatest detective.
Yes, you heard that right; simple.
This was somehow Watari’s meaning of the word, not that you had ever been able to make sense of it. Although you were more than capable and indeed didn’t find it to be too taxing of a task, the gravity of your role was clear, it was as though you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. If L asked you to do something and you messed up, that was his reputation and credibility on the line, not to mention his flawless track record. In order to carry out your job efficiently, though, you had to rid yourself of such heavy thoughts—it was completely illogical to burden yourself with them when you had far more pressing matters to attend to; the solving of heinous crimes.
Despite your role, he didn’t ask for your extensive involvement on many cases, which you never used to understand. You assumed that even if he didn't need your help in that precise moment, he would want you around in the event that he does. It was not like you weren't willing to go with him everywhere he went.
Over the years of this continuing, you began to notice a rather interesting pattern—it was always on cases that were particularly dangerous, or high risk in nature. Sure, it wasn’t abnormal for L to implement measures protecting those he cared about, but this specific method was quite out of character for him. For a moment you worried that it may be because he doubted your abilities, but that couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t have wanted you by his side since you were children if that was the case, it wouldn’t make sense. After some thinking, you came to realise that it was because he cared about you, yes, but perhaps more than he let on. Since L’s not exactly… forthcoming with his emotions, and doesn’t know how to handle them in the healthiest of ways, it was probable that keeping you away from the situation altogether was his way of resolving the issue, or it was at least his temporary solution.
Regardless of the specifics, this wasn't something that bothered you. You found it rather endearing that someone as brilliant as him cared about you to that extent, especially considering he is not the type to open up to others, or show any signs of emotional vulnerability. But more than that, you had a huge crush on him.
You didn't fall in love with him at first sight like the fairytales, but your feelings developed over time. What you saw as a completely platonic friendship changed right before your eyes. You started noticing the way his hair fell onto his forehand and framed his face, his dark eyes that would pull you in like quicksand if you looked at him too long, the slight smirk that would emerge on his face when he made a breakthrough; it all became incredibly attractive to you. And not just that, the attraction only continued to expand to the most mundane things you'd seen him do for years; the way he sat with his knees to his chin, the way he held his phone with his thumb and index finger, the way he preferred to walk around with no shoes. Things that would seem impossibly strange to anybody else—well, anybody outside of Wammy’s—had you completely enthralled.
Although you had felt this way for a long time, you never made a move. L is a reasonable man and certainly wouldn’t change the dynamic if he were to reject you, however you don’t think it wise. You would rather sit there with the current nature of your relationship than ruin a perfectly good thing. Even if the dynamic didn't change, you would still then be plagued with the certain knowledge that he didn't return your feelings, and that would simply break your heart. Realistically, it’s not like it mattered if you confessed or not anyway; he wouldn’t be much of a detective if he hadn’t already figured out that you're in love with him. You didn't have any intention of denying the matter if he brought it up first—lying to a man like him was a fool's errand.
“You seem distracted,” he pondered as he swallowed the last piece of his cake, placing his fork down, “I want to show you something from the hidden cameras that I think you’ll find interesting.”
You hummed in acknowledgement as you swivelled your chair over to him, snapping you out of your daze, “What is it?”
“Here—footage from earlier on in the case, before you arrived,” he glanced over at you as if to read your expression, “as you already know, I had cameras placed in Light’s house before he joined the investigation. This is some of the footage from his room.”
You leaned forward and intently watched the video, your eyes assessing every corner of the screen to ensure you absorbed all you could, “I know he’s only a teenager, but isn’t having that much in place to prevent people from entering your room a bit extreme?”
“Yes, I completely agree,” L moved his thumb to his upper lip, “it’s not abnormal for him to desire privacy, and I always wondered if perhaps his sister had made a habit of entering his room when he wasn’t present. But this next part is where things become quite intriguing.”
You continued to watch the footage, and you were met with Light laying on his bed, looking through magazines of half-naked women. He was on his stomach, simply turning the pages like it was nothing special, perfectly lined up for the camera to see. It didn’t even seem like he was enjoying himself, in any sense of the word.
“It seems like he knew about the cameras,” you said, adjusting yourself in your chair, “and put this on as some kind of performance to mask whatever he’s really hiding.”
“Hm, as observant as ever. I agree.” He turned his wide-eyed gaze towards you, however it was less intense than usual; it felt almost blank. You knew him well enough to know that his focus was taken by something outside of the footage entirely.
“You seem more distant than usual,” you frowned, locking your eyes with his, “is there something on your mind?”
“Well, it’s just that I’ve always found your level of intelligence rather attractive.” He stated, so deadpan that it almost felt unreal; you were stunned. L was an extremely upfront and direct man—when he wanted to be—but you couldn’t help but be caught off guard by his compliment.
“Oh, I–“
“Wasn’t expecting that?” He smirked, stirring his cup of tea with a spoon.
“Yeah, I just didn’t realise you felt that way,” you stuttered, diverting your eyes back to the monitor to prevent the rising heat in your cheeks.
“I see,” L once again placed his thumb on his upper lip, pausing for a moment as though he was carefully analysing your words, “it’s rare that someone matches me in that way. You’re one of the few.”
“I think saying I match you is a bit of an over exaggeration.”
“I disagree.”
You had no idea where his confidence came from, or why he even thought of you as this intelligent. Nobody matched L; not 100%, anyway. And this isn’t even mentioning the fact that he just called you attractive.
"Well, thank you. I appreciate the compliment," you said, steadying your voice as much as possible as you manoeuvred your chair back to your desk, trying to make sense of what just happened.
"You're very bad at hiding your feelings, you know," L said, eyes fixed back on his monitor, slurping his cup of tea as he scanned the documentation in front of him.
What? He had seriously decided that this was the way to bring this up for the first time?! You knew he didn't have much experience with women, but this was beyond even your comprehension.
"Hiding something from the world's greatest detective isn't exactly possible, especially when you know me as well as you do." You turned to face him—you couldn't help but wonder what his reaction to all of this was. You always found it quite strange that he ignored it for so long, but maybe he didn't want to risk changing your dynamic, just like you.
L put his cup of tea down and turned back to you, "For what it's worth, I feel the same way."
Again, what? L had always been the type of person who didn't focus on things like romance since he found it a 'trivial distraction', in his own words. As much as he actually did enjoy having a life outside of his cases—much to people's shock—something as serious and taxing as a relationship was a bit too much for his brain to handle. That's what he had always said, anyway.
You felt yourself pull the fabric of your jumper sleeves over your hands, eyes drifting away from him, "I didn't think you cared for romance."
Even without looking, you could sense something different in him; uncertainty. Precisely the opposite of what he was known for. "I didn't think so either, until I actually pinpointed why I care about you so much."
Not only had he randomly decided to confess his feelings for you, he also just admitted you are single-handedly the reason he now cares about romance. Although this was a peculiar way to address matters—to say the least—it was undeniably charming, even though he was evidently not trying to be. Or maybe he was, but that would mean he was an incredible actor. You didn't even think he was capable of that level of deception.
"Why have you not mentioned it until now?" you asked, cautiously. You were hesitant, but you would be curious for the rest of your life if you didn't ask now. Especially if none of this amounted to anything in the long run, and you both ended up resorting to pretending it never happened.
"Because this is the one time in my life I haven't been sure if I can win," L said, voice smaller than usual. You suspected that the very notion of losing wasn't something he was familiar with, because he always had confidence in his ability to turn the most dire of situations into a win. At least love was a new challenge for him to tackle? Even so, hearing him sound so unsure was unsettling; this was practically a non-existent emotion for L.
"But you already know I feel the same," you said, reminding him that you never put in much effort to obscure your feelings.
"As much as that part was obvious, I'm unfortunately not a mind reader," he said, eyes still fixed on you, "since you've never brought it up in discussion yourself, I've never been able to tell if you'd be interested, in the practical sense."
So that was it; he thought you might only like the idea of being with him. It was true that some people preferred to be in a permanent state of limerence, you would much rather have the real thing for yourself.
"It's not that. I just didn't want to ruin what we have now if you didn't reciprocate," you said, cautiously turned back to look at him. The way he was looking at you was different, his eyes laced with vulnerability—an emotion he did not typically make a habit of showing.
"Do you seriously think I would let something like that ruin things?" he questioned, his usual stable and monotone voice deviating, dripping with something akin to worry.
"No, but I didn't want to take the risk," you said, propping your arms up on the desk and resting your head on your hands. You didn't take your eyes off him this time; you had realised this moment was to precious to shy away from, no matter what followed afterwards.
"Come here," L stated, firmly. It was as though he had made a decision in his mind, and whenever L had made a decision, it was difficult to talk him out of it.
"What? Why?" you said, wondering what he had suddenly decided was so important for you to come over to him. You were only a metre apart anyway, your desks were directly next to each other.
"You'll see," he said, slowly moving his legs from his chest, adjusting to the conventional way of sitting on a chair. You decided to indulge him, so you spun your chair towards him in anticipation of wheeling over.
"No. Stand up,"
"There are conditions to this now?!" you laughed, following his directions and moving to stand in front of him.
L continued to stare at you, hands awkwardly placed in his lap—you could tell this posture was uncomfortable for him. "I've never done this before, so I can only apologise for my inexperience in advance."
Before you could process his words, you felt his hand grab your wrist and gently pull you onto his lap. All you could do is look at him, dazed and breathless. Did L seriously just pull you into his lap? Was this actually happening?
"Is this okay?" he said, inching his hand towards your thigh, moving his face closer to yours. He was searching your eyes for uncertainty, but you knew he wouldn't find it.
"Yeah, it's fine," you said, heartbeat pounding in your ears. You decided to let him take the lead so he didn't feel rushed. It definitely didn't also have to do with the fact your hands were trembling and you could barely think straight. Not at all.
He placed one hand on your thigh as he worked his other hand up your face to cup your cheek, his unsure visage acting as silent question; am I doing this right? You couldn't help but smile, it was cute seeing him do something he was so utterly clueless about for once. It was a side of him you had never seen before, and never dared to dream you would.
After a few moments of stillness, he pulled you into his lips. There wasn't much movement at first, as though he was focusing on getting used to the sensation before venturing further. You granted him the space to simply feel, and soon after he traced his thumb up and down your cheek, beginning to move his lips. It wasn't long until you decided to give him some guidance, setting the pace and carefully moving your hand to his nape.
This earned you a quiet groan, his tongue deliberately sliding against your lips, seeking access. You parted your lips and he instantly began to explore your mouth, tentatively, as though he was considering the best approach. After a short time, you had fallen into a consistent rhythm; he was kissing you with more confidence now, more certainty. It was evident he felt like he had more of an idea of what he was doing because he began to melt into you, completely surrendering himself to you.
His hand slowly moved further up your thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a breathy moan of your own as you deepened the kiss. This clearly had an effect on him as you could feel him shudder, his own mouth moving with more passion than before.
Eventually, you reluctantly pulled away from him for a moment to catch your breath. You pressed your forehead against his, glancing up at his half-lidded eyes and blown pupils. You didn't stop running your fingers through his hair as you both sat comfortably in the silence, content with just being in each other's presence.
"Well, that makes me regret not saying something earlier," he said, his voice not as put together as usual.
"You're a fast learner," you smiled, and it was true. He went from his lips placed against yours like he didn't know what to do with them, to exploring the inside of your mouth and making you breathless within minutes. It was impressive, really.
He moved his hand to your waist, tracing circles and staring into the distance, as though he was simultaneously trying to ground himself but also rebooting his brain so it was back in it's usual functioning state.
"For now, we should get back to work, we need to review these files by tomorrow," he stated, having switched back to normal, "but I wouldn't be opposed to continuing this another time, if you're okay with that."
"That sounds perfect."
The fact that he asked you for your permission before stating things definitely, the fact that he was so upfront about his inexperience; it was refreshing to see somebody be so open, casting aside his own wants until he was sure about what you wanted. Somebody that didn't display insecurity when admitting he didn't know what he was doing.
L was unapologetically himself, and you couldn't help but love him for it.