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Light didn't take the tether into account when he hit L.
His fault, really, but he's so damn angry he couldn't even pause to think before he swung his fist. The past couple of months, the constant accusatory glare from L, the clingy persistence of Misa-
It's getting to him. It's gotten to him.
Clearly, as he just sucker punched the man who he's chained to. They both go flying across the room, chain snapping tight and making the skin and bones in Light's wrist explode in pain. L lands against the wall awkwardly, and the tug from the chain forces Light right beside him. Misa's shrill, girly scream is something he tries to immediately shove out of his mind so he doesn't turn on her next.
"You know that really hurt," L comments dryly, slightly dazed, the only measure of surprise Light has ever managed to get out of him.
Light scrambles to his feet, yanking the chain taught again so L can't go anywhere, and positively fumes.
"You don't feel like doing anything? Just because you've finally felt what its like to be wrong about something for the first time in your life?"
The slight confusion in L's eyes slowly descends to stony irritability. Light lets it push him further into the red haze mania he feels ripping through him, screaming at him to hit and bite and scratch and pull and kick and tear until L feels even a fraction-
"Grow up," he snarls. L's eyes go dark.
"Perhaps I phrased it the wrong way," L's voice is terrifyingly monotone as he wipes blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His pale skin comes away smeared with cherry-red, and the hem of his shirt is stained with it, too. Like he's just gotten into a strawberry pie.
"I meant-" L struggles to his feet, "It would be pointless for us to make a move, so why bother?"
"If we don't keep doing our jobs, more people are going to die!" Light insists hotly. He doesn't get how L can't see that! Even if he was Kira at one point- he clearly isn't anymore. People are dying, and they have a responsibility to stop it.
"I don't know what leads you expect me to follow!" L snaps back. The fury on his face makes Light so indignant he could scream. He surges forward, tangles his fist in the soft cotton of L's shirt, and yanks them closer than the tether usually has them. Six feet. Six feet of metal loops and locked cuffs. Now they're lucky if its six centimeters.
"What was the fucking point of it all! If you're just giving up, if you can't possibly fathom anyone else But me is Kira, what was the point of locking Misa and me up? What was the point of all those innocent people being killed, what-"
He can't finish, because he gets a foot to the underside of his jaw.
The kick was done with brutal precision, and probably all the strength L has in his body, which is, apparently, a lot. Light is lifted off his feet and sent flying a few feet through the air before the pain even blooms up in his mouth, and he feels his wrist go raw as the chain tugs L right along with him, blood bubbling up from torn skin.
When he lands, its directly on the couch, the frame of it digging into his tailbone painfully hard. Misa is still fucking screaming- but as soon as he thinks it she runs from the room shrieking, her frantic footsteps getting quieter as she gets further from the room. Good riddance, he thinks venomously, and a split second later L lands on the couch beside him and the weight of them both awkwardly sprawled on it sends the entire thing toppling over backwards.
Light grunts as his back hits the ground hard enough to force all the air from his lungs. L is on him before he's gotten it back, so close to his face he can see the lighter ring around the black of L's iris'.
"The fact of the matter," L snarls, spit flying, "is that I know for a fact that Light Yagami is Kira, and Misa Amane is the second Kira. It's not enough to convict either of you, but I know it to be true."
Light is too busy struggling to really engage in another conversation about this. L's left knee is jammed so hard into his ribs he can feel them creaking beneath the weight, and he's got a hand fixed around Light's throat. His entire breathing situation is looking more and more grim, and as much as he wants to refute L, to counter his argument by reminding him that he can't possibly know that Light is Kira, he wants to get out from under him, more.
"So forgive me," L continues, voice dripping poison, "If I'm acting a little depressed."
"Forgive you?" Light asks incredulously, "Fuck you."
His knee comes up hard between L's legs. It hits mostly ass, but it was hard enough that he knows L got his balls squished in there somewhere, and that suspicion is confirmed when he doubles over with a wheeze, hands flying between his legs, pushing Light's knee away frantically.
Light's face is smashed into L's stomach, pressed into the silky trail of dark hair and the weirdly soft skin- like a fucking girl- and he almost takes a bite right out of L's flank before he reminds himself that killing L in a savage fistfight wouldn't do him any favors. Not that he thinks a single bite would take L down, but if Light starts sinking his teeth into L's flesh, he's not sure he'll ever stop.
So instead he grabs a fistful of hair and yanks. Hard enough that L goes willingly, toppling off Light and landing beside him, eyes slightly teary, staring dumbstruck at the ceiling.
"You," he licks his lips, preparing the savage accusation, "won't be satisfied unless I am Kira. It doesn't matter if we catch him tomorrow- if it's not me, you'll never feel like you won."
L blinks at him in dull shock for a second. Then he twists into his thinking face, slightly scrunched, looking just-off into the corner of the room, "You know," he mutters pensively, like they haven't just been fighting like a pair of wild dogs, "There may be some truth to that."
L sits up right into Light's fist.
He howls in pain, but ultimately goes nowhere, as they're both sitting on the back end of the couch, half on it, half on the floor. He flops back over, blood sprouting from his nose- which if Light hit correctly, should be slightly crooked- hand coming up to touch at it, slightly mystified like he's just figuring out he can bleed.
"You're a dumb fucking cunt," Light hurtles the most baseless insult he can think of at the moment, and follows L to his spot on the floor, straddling his waist and rearing back to hit him again.
He isn't giving it enough consideration, though, and instead of landing another bone-crunching hit, L wraps the chain around his wrist with frightening speed- the chain that's attatched to the hand Light is trying to punch with- and hauls, hard.
Light loses his balance, L takes him around the middle, and he yelps despite himself, because hands at his waist- its such a weirdly intimate place to be touched by L. It catches him off guard, enough to be laid flat on his back, positions swapped.
L doesn't hit him, though.
"So we're fighting dirty," He murmurs, not a question, just a curious statement of fact, "That's fine. I can fight dirty, Light."
Instead of staying on Light's waist, L slips down further, so his knees are on either side of Light's head, sitting firmly on his chest, and his crotch is fully level with Light's face. Its enough to truly jar him out of the animalistic blind rage he had been in these past few moments, and he shakes his head.
"Off," he hisses, "Off me, now. Get off!"
He shoves at L, but his hands are trapped at his sides, and he's breathing too fast to kick up his legs and flip them over. L cocks his head down at Light, and brings his unchained hand to his zipper.
Light is- he's really not sure what's going on here. Is he about to be fucking pissed on? He really wouldn't put that sort of thing past L- its what wolves do to establish dominance in the wild. Maybe that's what this is. Reminding Light of his place, below L, always fucking below L-
"Has anyone stopped to think that maybe- just maybe- You're Kira?" His voice is unhinged, too high pitched to be believably angry, too desperate to be anything but ill-timed fear. He wants L to hit him again, to shove or kick, something he can recognize-
L doesn't reply beyond an unimpressed raise of his eyebrows, but he does pull his cock out of his pants. Light's mouth goes dry, and he tilts his head back, eyes fixing on the empty doorway, before coming back to L.
If Misa sees this-
Scratch that. If Anyone sees this-
Nothing has to happen, that's the hilarious simplicity of this. L might piss on him, or maybe he'll just try to shove his dick down Light's throat, but regardless, none of it has to pass for this to be damning, because L straddling his neck with his cock out is already damning enough if anyone were to stumble in. Besides, they're on camera. This either looks like rape, or it looks like Light Yagami is fucking gay.
He just hopes nobody has been able to see the boner he's been trying to mentally force back down since him and L started fighting. He'd genuinely rather people think he's been mouth-raped or pissed on than believe he's gay.
"We've been over this," L says conversationally, like he's not holding his dick right over Light's face, like this is entirely normal and casual. Light can't stop looking at it. He wants to, he needs to look somewhere else, because this is- it's fucking telling, isn't it? He can't be hot for the guy who's been accusing him of mass murder for months, the guy he's chained to because he can't be trusted to live his normal life untethered, the guy who is responsible for making him think his dad was about to shoot him-
But he is. Light doesn't like lying to himself. He is. He's not sure how long, because his memories are a little hazy, given the weeks of confinement and what that does to one's psyche, but-
Probably a long time. Disturbingly long.
"What?" L asks, knocking his chained hand against Light's head, "I thought we were fighting dirty?" To his credit, L sounds geuinely confused. Light snarls up at him, finally tearing his gaze away from the cock hovering an inch away from his mouth.
"You call this-"
Apparently, L was just waiting for him to be stupid enough to open his mouth. The slick, spongy head of it presses against Light's lips, hitting against his front teeth, and because he's thought about this enough times to have fucking dreams about it, his body reacts well before his mind, and just- he just opens wide.
L fucking purrs when his cock slips against Light's tongue, so fast and slippery it hits up against Light's throat, and he gags a little, mouth closing tighter over it, and for some reason all he can summon up in his brain besides- what the fuck, we're on camera, my dad might be seeing this right now, L can't be fucking serious- is that L tastes how he smells: like weird designer soap that nobody should actually be buying because soap shouldn't be that expensive.
Tastes fucking good, though.
"That's better," L murmurs, all the indignant annoyance vanished, but the low rasp of his normal speaking voice makes Light shiver all over, "You're much easier to handle when you're not talking."
He scowls up at L, but he doesn't make any move to save himself from this situation. He can't remember where the cameras are in this room, and for a childish moment he hopes the couch is magically obscuring them.
It isn't.
This room probably has dozens of cameras to capture every angle. Someone is having the show of their fucking life, and Light needs it to not be his father. He also needs to stop even thinking about that.
"You know," L tips his head back, stopping his sentence to let out this drawn out, nasty groan that Light wants to hate, but can't- "You're taking this surprisingly well, Light. I figured there was at least a twenty-five percent chance you'd bite my dick off if I put it anywhere near your mouth."
Light, to be a shithead, lets his teeth scrape against L's skin in a gentle warning. L just laughs, a little crazy, a little breathless, and reaches the chained hand down to tug at Light's hair. It has a frustrating, instantaneous effect on him, and unthinkingly, he pitches his hips up into nothing, desperate to feel even a fraction of what L must be feeling right now, cock pressed so far down Light's throat he's struggling to breathe.
"I should have done this months ago," L breathes, right on the edge of a hiss, and then he rocks forward. He can't get the sort of brutal momentum from this angle that he might have if he was standing, but it's compensated for by the fact that he can't pull back very far, either. Light is suppressing a gag every few seconds, and his eyes have started to pool over with hot tears that he's frantically trying to blink away.
L's fingers scratch at his scalp, like he's petting a dog, "Good boy, Light," he mocks, "Very good. I shouldn't be surprised- you tend to excel at everything you put your mind to."
The praise goes right to L's head, rising like helium. He feels dizzy. He feels angry. L doesn't have any right to talk to him like that, to give him the praise he so desperately wants to chase down everyday, but he is. And Light likes it. And he hates L because he likes it.
Like he can read Light's mind and heard all of this, L's mouth quirks up into an infuriating little smirk. Light makes an angry noise around his mouthful of cock, and L just drives forward a little more, slipping further against Light's neck and jaw, pressing him fully into the floor. What his hips don't do, his hand finishes- he's got a mean fistful of Light's hair, and he's using it to keep his head flat down against the carpet.
Light's legs are moving so much he might genuinely get rug-burn somewhere. His heels keep digging into the floor like his body wants to kick off and pitch L right off of him, but he can't do it because he's stuck in this place between hell and cloud 9, and he can't make up his fucking mind. Too good, not enough, maddeningly frustrating, the worst thing that's ever happened to him- all viable options, really.
"If I didn't know better," L hums, rocking forward in this steady-yet-choppy, disorganized rhythm that has Light choking and gagging, "I'd say you've done this before. But that's not true, is it?"
He shakes his head, and L laughs abruptly fast. Light goes red-hot from his cheeks right down to his chest, and hates himself for how quickly he replied to that. Like he's some obedient little dog that can be ordered around. He growls around L's cock, and L just holds him tighter against the floor.
"None of that," he whispers, giving the most savage thrust he's likely to be able to give in this position, which has Light gagging uncontrollably, pathetically. Spit slips out from the corners of his mouth and slides down his face towards his ears- thoroughly disgusting- and he's crying, tears free-falling into his hairline. "We both know how much you want to be good. Take what's given to you, Light, since you want it so badly."
He mumbles a reply around L, clearly something interesting enough that L presses Light's head down, and pulls his hips back, releasing his cock from Light's mouth with an obscenely wet sound, spilling drool all over his lips and chin. L tilts his head to the side, "What was that?"
Light clears his throat. It's aching already, "I said," his voice trembles weakly, "That this isn't fighting anymore."
L shrugs, clearly bored from that quip, and shamefully one tap of his cock against Light's cheek is enough to make him open up again, so he can feel the now-familiar, comfortable weight of L in his mouth, "Sure it is. I'm winning, you're losing-" he groans in satisfaction as he starts moving his hips again, shallow, light thrusts that just barely graze Light's tonsils, "Sounds like fighting to me. Besides- isn't this sort of fighting a lot more fun than the other kind?" he asks.
He's frustratingly calm. Light, for however much he's secretly enjoying this, is starting to get scared that someone is going to walk in. It's only been a couple of minutes since Misa left- and it takes a few to get all the way to the first floor, grab someone, and come all the way back- but then again it's possible that Misa only got there after L shoved his cock down Light's throat, and now they're all watching in abject horror, too afraid to come up and put a stop to it.
Honestly, he doesn't blame them. He wouldn't get in the middle of this, either.
L maneuvers around to reach back and slide his thumb below the cuff on Light's wrist, and he jerks up in alarm, eyes crossing from the painful burn of it. His wrist is rubbed raw and skinned in spots from the incessant tugging of the cuff, and L is slipping his thumb over it, digging cruelly into the open, bleeding wounds. "See what I mean?" he mumbles, eyes fixed on Light's, watching him flinch in pain, "This sort is no fun at all."
He pulls his hand away, and Light can't stop the whimper of relief that squeezes out around all the cock in his mouth, "Now," L emphasizes, leaning further forward and suffocating Light, whose nose is now pressed into the soft, slightly curly pubes that match L's hair, "Suck," he orders, "Like your life depends on it."
Light doesn't need to be told twice. Really. His life sort of does depend on it, and he's been given no autonomy since the last time he punched L. The evidence of that is still all over L's face, but the bleeding has slowed. It's all down the front of his crisp white shirt, and as L speeds up into Light's hollowed cheeks, his tongue swirling around as much as it can with the power of the thrusts hitting the back of his throat, he has about one second to be grateful that he isn't in that sort of state.
Then L twitches, his hips jerking forward painfully hard, his cock poking at the dip of Light's throat, and he can feel the veins throb as L gets off, the hot flood of it that Light barely tastes because the head of L's cock is so deep in his throat. Irritating bastard that he is, L pulls out right before he's done, and the last few drops of his cum land all over Light's chin and neck, hot like wax where they touch down.
The next few seconds are spent in the least awkward silence he could imagine having after an impromptu face-fucking directly after the messiest, most embarrassing fistfight he can picture. L is breathing heavy, pupils blown out so his eyes look entirely black, darker than usual, and Light beneath him is also breathing like he's just ran a marathon, splattered with cum, mouth bruised, face tear-stained.
The next thing that happens is the worst imaginable thing he can picture happening in this scenario. From the doorway, there's a small shuffle, and then a squeak of a voice from someone Light never wants to see again in his life-
"L-Light?"
He tilts his head back against his better judgement, wondering all the while why L doesn't fucking move, and locks eyes with Misa, who looks like she's just been shot through the heart and lived to talk about it.
"Hello Misa," L says, unhelpfully, "Sorry if Light and I scared you."
Scared her? Light thinks savagely, more like scarred her.
"It's-" Misa starts, makes a choked, strangled sound, and then her footsteps recede back down the hall as quickly as they did the first time. Light looks up at L.
"Good going, asshole," he huffs. Misa is hard enough to deal with on a good day, but this-
This is going to send her over the edge.
L grins, cocky and arrogant, and as he slips off of Light's chest, says- "Go get your girlfriend, Light. I'll go see about erasing that security footage. Better hope nobody important saw." Light, still ruffled, messy, and the most dazed he's possibly ever been in his life, sits up and twists around to watch L, entirely unbothered, disappear down the hall and around a corner.