Archive of Our Own

It’s a nitpick, Light knows, but one of his least favorite things about this job is the bright yellow apron he’s made to wear. It’s so cheery. It mocks him while he handles the general public and loses a little faith in humanity each day.

But he’s grown thicker skin after two years of making people coffee, and some days are better than others. Today, the shop has a solid crew: Misa, Rem, Ryuk, and himself. He just got off the phone with their chronic absentee, but no one will be surprised about that, since the issue is in fact chronic. Also, Light leaves in an hour, so he couldn’t care less. It’s been terribly busy and hectic since they opened.

He walks across the backroom. His manager is furiously typing inventory counts into an iPad. “Hey.”

Matsuda looks up like he’s surprised he’s not the only person in the store. Once the prey-animal stare has left his eyes, he flashes Light a too-bright smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know if you heard any of that, but Sidoh won’t be in today.”

“Oh.” Matsuda’s smile dies. “Ryuk won’t be happy.”

“Probably not.”

“Damn. Okay.” He sighs, long-suffering. “I really appreciate all your hard work, Light. I don’t know how this place would stay afloat without you.”

Light says nothing. He knows exactly what’s coming next.

“Um, I know you opened today, but do you think you could come back tonight and help Ryuk? If you get here two hours before his shift ends, I’ll let you come in two hours late tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I have homework to catch up on.” Light does not have homework to catch up on, but he’s not leaving here at eleven just to show up at nine the next morning.

“Ryuk’s really not gonna be happy…”

That’s not my problem. Fire Sidoh. Hire more baristas. Help Ryuk close your damn self if his feelings are so important to you.

Matsuda clears his throat. “But that’s okay, Light. I hope you can get caught up on school and get some rest. You deserve it.”

“Thank you. I’ll go tell the others.” Light forces a smile and promptly flees the backroom.

Miraculously, there are no customers in the shop. Misa watches Ryuk doodle on a blank piece of receipt paper while Rem is still outside taking her cigarette break. Light doesn’t smoke, but sometimes when it gets busy, he thinks about asking to bum one.

“Sidoh’s slacking off again,” he says, placing the phone back in its cradle.

Ryuk heaves a long-suffering sigh of his own. “And if I suffocate myself in the milk cooler, what then?”

“Let’s not do that,” Misa says. “I’ll ask Matsuda-san if I can stay a little later.”

“Don’t you open tomorrow? It’s fine. I’m not actually gonna shut myself in the cooler. I’m just gonna think about it real hard.”

“I’m still asking. I need the hours.”

Light can’t fathom being that selfless, nor does he want to. He grabs a cloth and a spray bottle of sanitizer and starts cleaning the syrup-sticky countertops.

“Oh!” Misa claps her hands. “Speaking of hours, did you two get your time off approved for the party? I got mine last night.”

“Sure did,” Ryuk says. “I wouldn’t miss it. I dunno about this guy, though.”

Light glances over at them. “I’ll try to be there. I’ll have to see how swamped I am.”

“You can’t squander your youth doing homework, Light,” Misa says.

“I’m not squandering.”

“Whatever. Did you even put in the request?”

“Yeah. And I got it approved last night, just like you did.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Light is telling the truth. He knows Misa is ecstatic to celebrate her birthday and he does care, seriously, but lounging around at home has more appeal than being surrounded by people. It doesn’t matter whether he’s caught up on school or not. Still, sometimes he surprises himself. Sometimes he emerges from his apartment and actually enjoys it. So it really is up in the air. “Do you want to see the confirmation email, or…?”

Misa sighs. “No, I believe you. But if you aren’t there, I’ll be really, really sad. Everyone will miss you.”

“Most of them will see me here the next week.”

“That’s not the same.”

“It’s really not.” Ryuk slurps up the last of his energy drink-green tea concoction at an unnecessary volume. “I think you deserve to have some fun.”

Light moves on to wiping down the espresso machine. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Of course, someone has to choose that moment to walk up. Light is universally irritated by people who interrupt his cleaning. Neither Misa nor Ryuk go to the register, so he begrudgingly takes one for the team.

He’s never seen this guy before. He wears an employee nametag for the grocery store the coffee shop is situated inside, so he must be a new hire. “Ryuzaki”, it reads. It’s crooked. This bothers Light immensely.

“Hello,” Light says. He puts on his best approximation of a friendly expression and forces his customer service voice past his larynx. “Can I have a name for your order?”

Ryuzaki continues to stare, unblinking, at the menu. “Oh. Right here.” He points at his nametag.

Light already feels a tad murderous.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Force of habit. What can I get for you?”

“Hm…”

He’s clearly an asshole, so it’s a shame he’s so attractive. Light has never been into immaculate supermodel types. He much prefers guys like this: lanky and off-kilter with a permanent bedhead and eyes like they haven’t slept in millenia. Misa knows this, which is probably why she let Light have the register. Ryuk knows it too, but he avoids taking orders whenever he can, so his reasons are up for debate.

“Can I have a large mocha?”

“Sure. Would you like it hot or iced?”

“With extra mocha.”

“Would you like it hot or iced?”

“Oh. Um…iced, but I only want three cubes of ice.”

“I’m so sorry—we don’t have cubed ice. It’s crushed. Does that make a difference?”

“Oh.” Ryuzaki’s expression doesn’t change, but Light can sense his displeasure. “Could I see the ice, please?”

Light hates him. He’d like to throw scalding espresso in his face and watch him boil like a shrimp. Luckily, Misa has already started scooping ice from the bin. “Of course.” He grabs a cup and scrawls Ryuzaki’s name on it in the meantime.

“Here you go!” Misa sets the ice down on the counter.

Ryuzaki holds the cup very close to his face and inspects its contents thoroughly. A girl about Light’s age steps into line behind him and begins typing on her phone.

“I guess this will do,” he sighs. “Six of them. Please.”

“Of course.” Light writes it on his cup. “So an iced mocha, extra mocha, with six pieces of ice?”

“Mm. What are your dairy options?”

“We have whole milk, low-fat milk, heavy whipping cream, and, uh…condensed milk, if that counts.”

“And what are your non-dairy options?”

“Soy, almond, and oat.”

A mother and her extremely grumpy-looking child join the line.

“Mm. I would like heavy whipping cream, but I would also like”—Ryuzaki holds up his thumb and forefinger, several centimeters of space between them—“this much condensed milk at the bottom of the cup.”

Light draws an arrow to indicate the nauseating measurement.

“What syrups do you recommend?” Ryuzaki asks.

“For a mocha? Probably—”

“No, out of all of them. Not for this specific drink.”

Aizawa, one of their regulars, joins the line behind the girl and the mother with her miserable child. He’s usually nice, but he can get short when service takes a while, which always makes Light want to fling them both into the vacuum of space.

“I like melon, raspberry, maple…um, we started offering blood orange a few months ago. It’s good, but most people order it with tea.”

Ryuzaki purses his lips, looks back up at the menu, and takes his sweet time thinking it over.

Rem comes back inside. She side-eyes the line at the register and heads straight for Misa. “Hey, I’m supposed to unpack freight until I’m off. You wanna help?”

“Yeah! Let’s go.”

They head to the back, leaving Light and Ryuk to fend for themselves behind the counter. Misa and Rem are head-over-heels for one another, which is obvious to everyone except for them. Matsuda never chastises them for running off like this because he “supports their blossoming romance.” Light is certain that’s against some kind of managerial code.

“Mm.” Ryuzaki’s monotone brings him back to reality. “I’ll have four pumps of salted caramel, four pumps of peppermint, four pumps of blueberry, four pumps of strawberry, four pumps of lavender, and two pumps of peach. And one pump of toffee.” He glances at Light with what almost looks like remorse. “And one pump of blood orange.”

Ryuk cackles.

How about I shove a blood orange up your ass, you abomination-drinking cunt? “Of course. Anything else?”

“I don’t think—wait, actually, I’ll have double espresso. Double whatever a large usually comes with.”

Shit. Maybe he’ll go into cardiac arrest and solve Light’s problem for him. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all.” Ryuzaki’s mouth curls into a tiny smirk. “Much appreciated, sweetheart.”

Light fears that’s his final straw.

Luckily, Ryuk swoops in before he has to say anything else. “I already started the espresso for you. Finish making his iced affront to God and I’ll ring him up.”

Light exhales. “Thanks.”

Who the hell hired this creep, anyway? Who permitted him to bother Light more than he’s already bothered on a daily basis? Their hourly rate is not worth this bullshit. Neither is the damage this job has done to Light’s knees, back, and soul. He should quit. He should walk out right now, actually.

The espresso takes forever to pull. Why does there have to be so much of it? Several more people have joined the line since Ryuk took over on register, and because it’s a Saturday afternoon, it could very well stay this way for the rest of Light’s shift. He thinks he might be in hell.

When he grabs the heavy whipping cream from the cooler, Ryuk reaches out a hand. “Wait, Light—”

Light shakes the carton like he always does. Unfortunately, Ryuk has a habit of setting the lids atop their milk containers without twisting them shut. One millisecond before an explosion of heavy whipping cream goes everywhere, Light realizes his mistake.

And it truly does go everywhere. The floor. The cabinets. The counters. The espresso machine. Into the open ice bin. Across the bottles of syrup. And all over Light’s apron, pants, and sneakers. It’s stark white and it audibly drips off of him.

“Oh, shit,” Ryuk says. The mother with her sulking child gasps, horrified. “My bad.”

“I’m going to the back,” Light says. “I’ll send Misa up here to help you. I need a second.”

“Yeah, man, do whatever you have to.”

Light briefly emerges from behind the counter to grab as many napkins as he can hold. Ryuzaki clears his throat a few feet away, and for some godforsaken reason, Light looks up.

The asshole nods to the horrifically undignified white splatter across Light’s body. “It’s a good look on you.”

I’m going to kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you. I’m going to gouge out your beautiful fucking eyes and snap your fucking neck. “Thanks.”

After a brief exchange with a sympathetic Misa, Light shuts himself in the walk-in cooler with his wad of napkins in hand and screams toward the ceiling at an uncaring God.

ᯓ★

Most of the coffee shop’s regulars are people who work in other parts of the grocery store.

There’s Wedy, who manages the entire food and beverage department, and complains a lot despite making an enviable salary. There’s Aiber, the human resources guy with whom Light will never share any sensitive information whatsoever. There’s Misora, the bakery manager and their most pleasant regular by far, even though she always looks on the verge of stress-induced collapse. There’s Mogi and Mikami, who work in loss prevention and usually walk over together. Mikami takes his job very seriously and has a blatant crush on Light that Light does not reciprocate. There’s Takada, a cashier, who’s into Light as well, but makes it far less obvious. According to Misa, “She has eyes, so she knows you’re gay. Don’t worry about it.” Being hot in customer service is exhausting.

The list goes on, but Light tends to lose track past that point. Ryuzaki is their latest addition. Light learned through the grapevine that he was hired for inventory, which makes him intensely covetous. It must be nice getting paid to hide in the back and move boxes around in peace.

To Ryuzaki’s credit, he always gets the same drink. Instead of taking several minutes to order, he asks for his “usual” like the asshole he is. Light has started preemptively brewing espresso when he sees him walking up. The order is absurdly expensive and there’s no way it isn’t disgusting, but it’s Ryuzaki’s life and Ryuzaki’s priceless meal break.

“Can I ask you something?” Light says one day as he’s passing the abomination off. “What does that taste like?”

“Mm. I’m not sure how to describe it. Would you like a sip?”

“Uh.”

Ryuzaki grabs a straw and holds it out to Light. “I don’t mind drinking after you.”

“Oh. Alright, then.”

Light mentally prepares himself, if that’s even possible for an experience like this, as he unwraps the straw and stabs it through the lid. Curiosity alone propels him forward. He takes a deep breath, then has a taste.

It’s terrible. That’s unsurprising, but the magnitude of terrible has Light fighting not to gag. It’s unbearably sweet in the same way rotten fruit smells. The espresso instantly melts the six pieces of ice, so the whole thing is lukewarm. Maybe it’d be a little redeemable if it weren’t for the peppermint syrup and the stratum of condensed milk, but only a little. Light forces himself to swallow with what he can only imagine is deep, deep sorrow in his eyes.

What had Ryuk called this? An iced affront to God? Yes, that’s an apt description.

Ryuzaki is grinning from ear to ear. “There are truly no words for it.”

“There sure aren’t. Enjoy your break.”

Ryuzaki does not replace the straw. Light isn’t sure how that makes him feel.

ᯓ★

Misa invites Light over an hour before her party to help her finish decorating. He decided yesterday that he might as well attend. If it’s not his scene, he’ll leave early, and he’ll make it up to Misa by buying her lunch on campus next week.

“I kinda finished setting up right before you got here,” she says when she lets Light in. “But we can hang out in my room until other people show up.”

Her apartment is always cozy. She has a good eye for decoration. Now, she’s hung up streamers, garlands, and balloons with colorful glowsticks inside. There are double the amount of string lights tacked to the wall since Light was here last week. Pop music plays from the TV and the whole place smells like birthday cake.

“This looks really nice. You did a great job.” Light kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat. “How many people will be here?”

“Not a whole lot. I invited you, Rem, Ryuk, Halle, Kiyomi, Ryuzaki, Nori, a few people from school…oh, and my roommate’s visiting her parents, so we have the place all to ourselves.”

“I’m sorry,” Light says, “what?”

Misa tilts her head at him. They’ve made it to her bedroom. She goes to her dresser to light a stick of incense. “Something wrong?”

“You invited Ryuzaki.”

“Yeah! He’s really sweet once you get to know him, he’s just a little awkward. He hadn’t decided whether he’d be here the last time we talked, though, so he might not show up.”

God, Light hopes not. “Well. I guess it’s your party.”

“It is,” Misa says with an air of finality. “I could’ve invited Mikami to slobber over you all night. Would you have preferred that?”

“Yes,” Light says, unsure if he means it.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you and Ryuzaki got off on the wrong foot, but I think you should give him a chance. He’s so your type, Light.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“He’s an asshole in the same way you are. I think you could get along really well.”

“I’m not an asshole,” Light grumbles. “I try not to be.”

Misa side-eyes him. “Anyway, you two would make a super hot couple. You have to talk to him before you leave.”

“Why don’t you focus on your own lovelife? Didn’t you say Rem’s gonna be here?”

Misa flops down on her bed beside where Light has already settled. She snatches up a calico cat plush and hugs it to her chest. “Yeah…”

“So? Are you gonna ask her out?”

“I don’t know if she likes me like that.”

“Oh, come on. Have you seen the way she looks at you? I’m surprised she hasn’t asked you on a date yet.”

Misa shrugs, visibly blushing.

“Okay,” Light says, “how about this: If I give Ryuzaki another chance, you have to tell Rem how you feel.”

“Mm, I don’t know…”

“Think about it. If it goes well—and it will—it’ll be the best birthday present you could ask for.”

“I’m just nervous. I don’t want to make things weird.”

“You won’t. Someone has to make the first move.”

“I know.” Misa looks over at him. “You promise you’ll talk to Ryuzaki?”

“I promise.” Light doubts anything will come of it, but in the name of friendship, he’ll make good on his word.

Misa holds out her pinkie. They shake on it. It’s official.

ᯓ★

They watch an extremely long YouTube video about Mario Kart Wii while Misa paints her nails red, then Light’s. By the time there’s a knock at the door, Light almost forgot there was a party happening at all. An inexplicable pit forms in his stomach.

Misa grabs Light’s hand and tugs him along. Just as he feared, when she opens the door, Ryuzaki is standing behind it.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” She flings her arms around him in a hug he looks utterly unprepared for. It takes him a moment to reciprocate, and by the time he does, Misa is already pulling back. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Hello.” Ryuzaki steps inside and looks around inquisitively. “You have a very nice home.”

“Aw, thank you. We got a lot of this stuff secondhand, so it’s a little mismatched, but I think we’ve made it work.”

Light stands a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward.

Ryuzaki properly looks over at him. “Oh, hello. I’m not the first one here after all.”

“Haha. Yeah.”

The grocery store has a dress code, albeit not a very strict one. Ryuzaki has worn the same long-sleeve shirt and blue jeans every day. Seeing him in something different is…alarmingly appealing. He has on a cable-knit sweater, baggy jeans with massive holes in the knees, sheer black tights underneath, and beat-up Converse. His hair is messier than usual. There are silver rings through his right eyebrow and bottom lip that he’s never worn to work.

Light himself chose a button-up, halfway unbuttoned, tucked into a pair of tight leather pants that rarely leave his closet. He knows he looks good. At least he hasn’t been outdone. While taking in his nemesis, Light imagines how it’d feel to rip his throat out with his teeth, which indicates he is extremely unbothered, unaroused, and normal.

Misa glances between them. “Do you guys want drinks?”

Damn her. She knows what she’s doing.

“Oh, that sounds great,” Ryuzaki says. “What do we have to choose from?”

Misa runs down their list of options as they go to the kitchen. L picks out a handle of whisky and Misa plucks a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator “to chase it with.” Light thinks he might die.

A few minutes later, they each have a glass in hand. “Okay,” Misa says, “everyone ready?”

Light is not and has never been fond of drinking, but being drunk is a surefire way to loosen up around groups of people, so he sees it as a means to an end. They toast and tip back their glasses. The ice clacks against Light’s teeth.

He grimaces. Misa presses his wineglass into his hand, which he gratefully sips from.

“This is quite nice,” Ryuzaki says. He’s grinning in Light’s direction. “Very robust.”

Light runs the back of his hand over his mouth. “You have no room to talk. I’ve tried what I make for you at work every day.”

“Yes, well, I have been told I’m not half-bad at swallowing.”

Misa cackles. Light feels as though he’s been dropped into a blazing furnace. There’s another knock at the door, which Misa waltzes off to answer.

Ryuzaki meanders after her, but pauses next to Light on his way out of the kitchen. “You’re very cute when you blush, Light-kun. I hope you enjoy the party.”

Light doesn’t know what to make of his emotions as he watches Ryuzaki saunter away, so he compresses it all into simple annoyance. They don’t like each other. They aren’t friends. Who the hell does Ryuzaki think he is to address Light as such?

Fortunately, the guest who just arrived is Ryuk. Light scrambles over to strike up a conversation with him. He doubts making a toast with Ryuzaki counts as “giving him a chance,” but he needs a palette cleanser if he wants to leave here with his sanity intact.

ᯓ★

The night goes on without further incident. Light catches himself having a really nice time. He sticks with Ryuk for the most part, as he prefers outings like these when he has a friend to follow like a shadow. Everyone drifts between the common area and Misa’s bedroom. Light drinks more than he told himself he would. Ryuk’s terrible influence doesn’t help.

After a couple of hours, the apartment starts clearing out, and Misa takes a polaroid of every guest before they go. When she and Rem step out onto the balcony to smoke, Light finds himself alone on the sofa.

He could go home. His apartment is close enough that he comfortably walked here in the freezing weather. But when he stands, he finds he is incredibly unsteady on his feet. Maybe he should stick around for a little longer.

He heads to Misa’s room, where he discovers Ryuk and Ryuzaki sitting on her rug, giggling at something on Ryuk’s phone. Ryuk pockets it once Light walks in.

“Hey, you found us,” he says. “How you holding up?”

Light staggers as he turns to shut the door behind him. “I’m holding.”

“Shit. Wanna have a seat?”

Light lowers himself onto the rug, legs folding inward and crossing in front of him. It’s really fucking hard to sit down in these pants. “This is all your fault, Ryuk.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“I had some earlier.”

“Goddamnit, Light, you always do this.” Ryuk gets to his feet. “I’ll be right back. Don’t kill each other.”

The room falls still with Ryuk gone. Light gazes at Ryuzaki’s profile with a degree of interest he wouldn’t allow himself were he sober. He notices some soft music playing, but he can’t tell where it’s coming from, and Misa’s overhead bulbs are off, so the room is illuminated by the string lights around her bedposts and the lava lamp on her desk. Ryuzaki’s face is cast in a gentle pink glow.

Light realizes he’s staring and looks at the floor, unsure of what to say. Neither of them speak until Ryuk returns, places a hand on Light’s shoulder, and passes him a glass of water. Light has a few sips to appease him.

“Okay, I’m headed home,” Ryuk says. “Please make sure he actually drinks that.”

Ryuzaki nods. “I will. Get home safe.”

“Have fun,” Ryuk singsongs.

“Bye, Ryuk.” Light takes a few more sips, then leans back to set his glass on the hardwood. Ryuk shuts the bedroom door, leaving them alone together. Light is acutely aware of this fact.

Ryuzaki is quick to break the silence. “Have you had a nice night?”

It takes Light a second to realize he’s being spoken to. “Yeah, it’s been fun. Misa always throws great parties.”

“She’s an excellent hostess.”

“She is. It’s funny—I didn’t think we’d get along at first. Then one day she found me crying behind the ice machine at work and talked me through it. We’ve been friends ever since. We’re bonded for life, I think.”

Ryuzaki tilts his head. “Why were you crying behind the ice machine?”

“I got a ninety-four on my organic chemistry final.”

“Oh.”

Light comes back to himself and realizes he just overshared, but before the shame can fully register, Ryuzaki’s speaking again.

“By the way, has everyone left already? I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Rem is still here, I think, but Misa doesn’t care much about that stuff. She won’t make you go home if you’re really fucked up. Don’t worry about it.”

“I haven’t heard you swear before. I didn’t know you were capable of such a transgression.”

“Well. We haven’t talked very much.”

“That’s true.”

There’s a pause. It isn’t awkward, or at least Light doesn’t think so. Maybe he’s too drunk for it to register as awkward.

“I’m curious about you,” Ryuzaki says. “You mentioned organic chemistry—I presume you’re a student?”

“Yeah, this is my last year as an undergraduate. I’m studying forensic science.”

“That must keep you busy.”

Light shrugs. “I manage it well. I’d like to take a year off before I start grad school, but I don’t think my parents would be happy.”

“What do they know? There’s no harm in giving your mind a rest, especially when you’re working. I’ve heard barista jobs can be very demanding.”

Hearing that from someone else comes as a pleasant surprise. Light wants to believe juggling everything he does is sustainable, but over the last few months, he’s started to realize that might not be the case. He’s working full-time at the coffee shop now, and his classes have become more demanding with his seniority. He’s managing, yes. But he’s very, very tired.

“I don’t want to do it forever,” Light says. “Working with the people that I do makes it easier, though. I didn’t know what it meant to have friends before I started that job.”

He’s not sure why he says it. It’s stupid. It’s embarrassing. But instead of taking the chance to ridicule him, Ryuzaki hums solemnly. “I understand that.”

They lapse into silence again, just briefly. Light chews the inside of his cheek and ponders what to say next. “…I don’t know anything about you, either.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Hm…how long have you lived in Japan?” Light has been curious about this since they met. Ryuzaki looks European, but his Japanese is excellent.

“I only moved here a few months ago. I’ve spent most of my life in England.”

“Really? What brought you all the way over?”

“I wanted a change, and this seemed like a good place to start. I lived here for a few years when I was very young. I’ve visited a handful of times since then. I guess, mostly, I needed distance from my family.”

Something in Light’s chest releases. “I’ve felt the same way.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, my parents offered to let me live with them until I finished school. But after a point…I honestly couldn’t do it anymore.” Light doesn’t elaborate, but he gets the feeling he doesn’t have to. “So I got my job at the coffee shop and saved up to rent an apartment. The whole place is probably the same size as my childhood bedroom, but I get to be alone, so I’m happy there.”

Ryuzaki smiles. “A refrigerator and a stove are all you really need, right? Maybe something to sleep on, if you’re lucky.”

“That’s true.” Light smiles back. “I do have a mattress. I even have a bedframe.”

“You’re quite the grown-up, aren’t you?” Ryuzaki gazes at the ceiling. “It can be lonely, needing that kind of distance. But I think when you start looking out for yourself, it opens you up to meeting people you can lean on.”

That acknowledgement, strangely, is a relief. The looming sense of disconnection isn’t as bad as when Light first moved out, but it can sneak up on him. Being on his own is liberating. He’s grateful for the friends he’s made on his own terms. But most of them speak adoringly about their families, and they’ve learned to stop asking Light about his. Sometimes, late at night, his apartment feels uncomfortably hollow.

Ryuzaki’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Light’s stomach drops. “What is it?”

“I like to go by L. I guess it’s not really a secret, but I only use it with my friends.”

“L? Like the letter?”

“Precisely.”

“I can do that. I guess you still want me to call you Ryuzaki at work?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” After a beat, Light tilts his head. “Are we friends?”

Ryuzaki—no, L—L hums. “I would like to be. I know the first time we met, I…made things difficult for you. That wasn’t my intention. But I’m sorry I did.”

“Oh.” Light blinks, surprised. “I really appreciate that, actually. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you. I hope I’m making a better impression now.”

“You are.”

“Mm…and as your prospective friend, I think you should drink more of that water Ryuk brought you.”

Light sighs and begrudgingly picks up the glass. The water is refreshing. He didn’t realize how dry his throat had gotten.

“Speaking of our first meeting,” L says, “you really do look good splattered with cream.”

Light narrowly avoids spraying L with water by having swallowed before comprehending the words. He still chokes on the excess moisture in his throat, waiting for a break in his coughing fit before chugging the rest of the glass. Once empty, L gently takes it from him and places it on Misa’s nightstand. He watches Light suffer until he’s able to speak again.

“Asshole,” Light croaks. “I can’t tell if you’re actually flirting or just trying to embarrass me.”

“Which do you think it is?”

Fuck. Why would he ask that? Why would he put Light on the spot? This is evil. Maybe L’s not so nice after all. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

“No, but I want to hear what you think.”

Light meets L’s eyes. They haven’t known each other for long, but there have been countless hints that L is being serious. Light’s just afraid to answer that way because of the risk involved. What if he’s wrong? What if L wants him to make a fool of himself? Light can’t reveal how attractive he thinks L is if the feeling isn’t mutual. That would be humiliating.

“You’re nervous,” L says.

“So what?”

“I think it’s cute.”

Light looks away and bites the inside of his cheek. Alright, maybe he does have a leg to stand on. But his stomach is still in knots as the words leave his mouth. “You really are flirting, then.”

“To be fair, I did sort of give it away for you.”

Sweet relief floods Light’s system. “Shut the fuck up. I still got the right answer. It counts.” His heart batters his ribcage and leaps into his throat when L leans closer.

“It counts,” L affirms. “Can I kiss you?”

Light looks up at him, wide-eyed. L’s piercings glint in the low light, his hair falling over his face. He has such a nice pair of lips and Light would be lying if he said this is the first time he’s noticed. He’s so gorgeous. It’s unbearable.

“Yes,” Light says, hardly above a whisper.

L smiles and moves closer, turning his body so their bent knees press together. He takes Light’s face in his hands and gazes at his mouth in a way that makes the room feel several degrees hotter. His thumbs glide across Light’s cheekbones. Even the air around them seems to be holding its breath.

Finally, he tilts his head and leans in, and Light closes the remaining distance.

His world narrows to everywhere L touches him. L’s hands are soft and warm and so are his lips, which move against Light’s like silk. Light sighs and opens his mouth, reaching forward to clutch the sides of L’s sweater. L licks his bottom lip, then rolls it between his teeth, and Light’s so out of his mind that he’s not sure if he whines aloud or not. Judging by L’s deep, rumbling laughter, the answer is yes.

Their tongues meet in the space between their mouths, gliding together. Light hasn’t kissed an abundance of people, but truly, there are some guys who use their tongues like goddamn anteaters. This is nothing like that; it’s hypnotic. It’s an easy push and pull. Light feels as though he’s being melted and devoured.

L breaks the kiss, hands falling to Light’s shoulders, only to replant his lips beneath Light’s jaw, and oh, this always makes Light weak. He tilts his head to open up his neck. L kisses his skin again and again, from the bony space beneath his earlobe to under his chin, then down the column of his throat, then to the side of his neck where a vampire might bite. And he does bite.

Light makes a high, breathy noise. Colors dance behind his eyelids. Letting L do this is a bad idea, but he can’t recall why, so he doesn’t stop it. L sucks and nibbles and works his tongue against Light’s skin until Light is panting, body wracked with shivers. L pulls away with a lewd pop and meets Light’s eyes.

His thumb brushes over Light’s swollen lips, almost reverent. “So pretty.”

Oh, Light aches. He wants L so badly. He needs him as close as possible. Light kisses him again, tugging at his sweater, unsure of what he’s asking for. When L moans and unfolds himself and clambers into his lap, Light thinks this is the best possible outcome.

He has absolutely no sense of time like this. But at some point, he thinks he hears the door open. There’s a pause, then hushed laughter, before it clicks shut again. Light doesn’t have the mental capacity to care. He’s not even sure he didn’t imagine it. All he knows is he has a lapful of L.

He straightens his legs just so, which causes L to sink closer to the floor, which causes his cock to press against Light’s. They moan in near-unison. A shock of pleasure rolls through Light’s body in vivid, mind-melting detail. L pushes his hips forward. Light pushes back. They don’t stop, settling into a feverish rhythm. Light whimpers into L’s mouth and holds on for dear life.

It’s good. It’s great. But after a few minutes, it’s not enough.

Light bows his head to give L a mark of his own. He has to keep things even, after all. L’s skin tastes clean, if a little salty with sweat, and he sighs his approval. At the same time, Light’s hands slide beneath the hem of L’s sweater. He unbuttons his jeans with a bit of struggle, tugs down his zipper, and squeezes him through the soft cotton of his underwear. L whimpers and bucks his hips, his movements revealing a desperation that makes Light growl and bite him harder.

“Let me take these off,” L says, breathless. “I think you should do the same.”

Light detaches himself from L’s neck. “Good idea.”

He doesn’t bother getting up, just waits until L stands, then lifts his hips and peels his pants down his legs. He tugs his underwear off next and kicks both garments from around his ankles. Now with his lap unoccupied, he has enough sense to scoot backward and off of Misa’s rug. His drunkenness dulls the discomfort of cold hardwood against his ass.

L has just tossed his jeans, underwear, and sweater in the approximate direction of Light’s discarded clothes. Light’s breath catches in his throat upon seeing what lies underneath.

L has on a tight, mostly see-through tank top. It’s a delicious sight, but it’s not Light’s main focus. L hasn’t been wearing sheer tights beneath his jeans; he’s been wearing sheer stockings. The elastic bands at the top wrap around his mid-thighs, biting into milky flesh just so. Then there’s his cock, bobbing between his legs, visibly weeping pre-cum. Light’s mouth waters just looking at it, imagining how it’d feel on his tongue or deep inside him.

L settles back into his lap and unbuttons the bottom half of Light’s shirt with a smug little smirk on his face. “Like what you see?”

Light nods, still dumbstruck. He slides his hands up L’s thighs and hooks his fingers beneath the elastic. The skin there is satiny soft, begging to be marred by nails or teeth. When Light lets go, he can’t help himself: He pops the right side, hard. “Fuck.”

L gasps when the elastic hits his skin. His hands falter around one of Light’s buttons. Once finished, he pushes Light’s shirt down his arms and slides his hands up his chest, thumbs brushing pointedly over his nipples. “Can I tell you another secret?”

“Mm.” Light arches his back into the touch. “What is it?”

Before L responds, he grabs Light’s hand and places it around his cock. Then, he takes Light in his own fist and begins to stroke, languid and teasing. Light whimpers and follows suit. His palm drags across hot, velvety flesh.

“Sometimes,” L says, strained, “when we’re at work together, I imagine bending you over the counter and fucking you right there, in front of everyone. I’d hold you by your throat with one hand and jerk your pretty cock with the other. We’d put on a nice little show. Then you could feel my cum dripping out of you for the rest of your shift.”

“O-oh.” Light’s eyes roll back. L moves his hand faster and he gasps, falling forward until he’s leaning against his shoulder. The idea is so humiliating, but god, he wants it. He wants everyone to see how badly L wants him. “That doesn’t sound…very food-safe.”

L laughs. It melts into a moan when Light twists his hand around the head of his cock. “That’s all you have to say?”

“…No.”

“I want to hear what else you think. I want you to look me in the eye when you tell me.”

After a couple of deep breaths, Light gathers the courage to sit up and look at L’s beautiful face, flushed with pleasure and exertion. “I like that you imagine me that way. While I’m standing right there. I like knowing you’ve thought about fucking me like you own me. It’s—ah—it’s—I want it.”

“Mhm?” L’s eyes have gone half-lidded. He looks ravenous. “It’d be so easy to grab you and make it happen, huh?”

“Yes.”

L’s hips roll continuously into Light’s fist. They stroke one another with a frantic need, knuckles bumping as their movements quicken. “You’d let me make you my slut, wouldn’t you?”

Light whines. His cock throbs, no doubt dripping over L’s fingers. “Yes. Yes. Please.”

“Fuck, Light, you’re perfect.”

They’re kissing again, this time with a new ferocity. Light’s so caught up in it that for a moment, he stops moving his fist. L takes the opportunity to slide the heads of their cocks together. It’s slick and filthy, pulling high-pitched noises from both of them that simmer between their mouths. Light wishes L could fuck him now.

Some other time…they’ll have to do this some other time. This has to happen again.

The moment ends. L breaks their kiss and presses their foreheads together, panting. As they settle back into a quick rhythm, Light’s wrist aches, but he can’t imagine stopping.

“Please,” Light gasps. “I want—ah.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” L coos. “Are you gonna cum?”

“Y-yes. Yeah…”

“Me too. You’re so good, Light, so good for me… Fuck…”

Light experiences a flash of disbelief. This person he’s wished death upon numerous times, hyperbolically or not, is about to make him cum. Sure, Light has thought about it. Just once or twice or maybe three times. But he never believed it would really happen. And he never imagined it would feel so good.

It creeps up on him slowly, then all at once. Light cries out as bliss thunders through his body, like he’s been dropped in a warm ocean to be crushed by powerful waves, hips bucking and eyes rolling back. The rhythm of his hand over L’s cock is his sole tether to reality, and he hardly has the awareness to continue even that.

A million years could’ve passed by the time he comes down. He’d be none the wiser. He homes back in on L, beginning to work his wrist faster, even while he’s dizzy and out of breath.

“Oh, Light,” L sighs. One hand clutches Light’s shoulder. “Oh, yes…yes, please…”

His voice climbs higher, turns whinier. His hips rock wildly into Light’s touch. Finally, his cum lands over Light’s knuckles, brows pulling together and mouth falling open in a punched-out moan. It is immensely satisfying to witness. Light purrs as he works him through it, pressing little kisses to his cheek and the hinge of his jaw.

L breathes hard, covered in a sheen of sweat. He tugs his tank top over his head, uses it to clean himself off, then passes it to Light. The moment Light is done, L wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his hair.

All falls still.

Light turns his head to watch the shadows cast by the lava lamp. They morph, languid and unhurried, the same way he drags his fingers up and down L’s spine. The music that was playing before has stopped. It’s quiet. Serene.

“Light-kun.”

Light pulls himself from his thoughts. “Hm?”

“I really like you. I’d like to do this again.”

Elation bubbles up within Light’s chest, potent enough to surprise him. “I’d like that too.”

“I’m not concerned about how we label our relationship. I’d just like for us to get closer. And I’d like for us to fuck along the way, ideally.”

Light snorts, rolling his eyes at L’s crassness. “That sounds perfectly fine to me. We can wait and see where it takes us.”

L hums. He plants a series of kisses against Light’s temple. “Do you know what time it is?”

“No. Could you bring me my phone? It should be in my pants pocket.”

Light misses L’s warmth the second it’s gone. L passes him his phone and he braces himself before turning on the screen.

“Shit.” Light scrubs a hand over his face.

L, who has started getting dressed, glances over. He’s put his dirty tank top back on, which is comically gross, but Light doesn’t comment on it. “Do you have to be up early?”

“No, but I never stay out this late. I probably just ruined my sleep schedule.”

“I think you’re a little too young to be worrying about things like that. It’s a Friday night; you’ll be fine. What time is it, anyway?”

“A little past midnight.”

“Oh…I suppose I’ve missed the last train.”

L doesn’t sound very concerned, but Light frowns on his behalf. “Well, my apartment is a ten-minute walk, if you wanted to…”

“Are you asking me to come home with you?” L’s voice has gone low and teasing. He grins at Light over his shoulder.

“I’m just being hospitable,” Light says, feeling himself blush. “You don’t have to take me up on it.”

“I know. But I think I’d like to. I don’t work tomorrow, so maybe we can spend some time together.” L crouches beside Light and swipes a fingertip over the mark he left on his neck. Light shivers. “Are you ready now?”

“Yeah, let me just get dressed.”

Light re-buttons his shirt, not bothering to tuck it in after the ordeal of putting on the leather pants. Together, he and L tiptoe to the living room.

It turns out there’s no need to be quiet. Misa and Rem are watching TV on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. Rem looks half-asleep on Misa’s shoulder, granted, but her eyes are open. Misa’s shoulders and upper chest appear vaguely mauled. Light’s happy for them, but he knows he won’t get a word in edgewise. He has approximately half a second to brace himself for Misa’s teasing.

She spots them, her lips curling into a smirk. “Well, well, well.”

“Um.” Light doesn’t know what to say.

“Oh my god.” Misa’s eyes go wide. “You have matching hickeys. Like, perfectly matching.”

“Whoa.” Of course, Rem has lifted her head to look. “Was that on purpose?”

Light slaps a hand over the side of his neck. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this scrutiny.

L, of course, is amused by the situation, giggling and self-satisfied. “It wasn’t on purpose. At least I don’t think so.”

“Then it’s obviously meant to be.” The sofa creaks as Misa gets up. Rem groans and collapses, boneless, against the cushions. “You two are adorable. Let me get a photo.”

“Do you need help cleaning up?” Light asks. The common area already looks in order, but he feels guilty for stealing Misa’s room. Maybe he’ll buy her lunch next week after all.

“Don’t worry about it. Ryuk helped us out before he left. We thought you might be busy for a while.” Misa prances over from the kitchen with her camera in hand, utterly unbothered. “Go stand by the door. I already know you don’t know how to pose, Light. What about you, Ryuzaki?”

“I’ll admit, I’m not very good at it.”

“Ugh. Alright, um…”

“Ryuzaki should kiss Light on the cheek,” Rem says.

Misa’s face lights up. Light knows he’s absolutely not getting out of this. “Yes! Okay, Light, put your arms over his shoulders, and then—yes, that’s perfect.”

L has wound his arms around Light’s waist, pulling him in by the small of his back. Light can’t deny it fills him with butterflies. He returns the embrace, as instructed, and turns his head to face Misa.

“Ready?” she says. “One…two…three!”

The flash goes off just as L’s lips press against Light’s cheek. Light can’t help but grin into the lens.

“Oh, this is gonna be so cute. I’ll send it to you both when it’s done developing.” Misa sets the camera on the coffee table and runs over to hug the two of them. “Thank you guys so much for being here.”

“Thanks, Misa.” Light squeezes her tight. His smile hasn’t left his face. “I hope you both have a good night.”

She waves behind them once they’re bundled up in their coats, shoes on, and headed outside. “Bye! See you soon!”

The door shuts, leaving them alone beneath the cloudy sky. It’s just started to flurry, snowflakes dancing in the yellow glow of the streetlamps. Light watches them as they walk.

He had no intention of going home with anyone, much less the person beside him, but he’s pleased with this outcome. Misa was right. That seems to be the case more often than not. Light will have to ask her later how things went with Rem, then congratulate her for putting an end to their mutual yearning.

It was a great party after all.

“You know,” L says, taking Light’s gloved hand in his own, “I almost didn’t show up tonight. I’m glad I did.”

Light smiles into the wind. “Me too.”

ᯓ★

On Monday, Light’s only two lectures are early in the morning, so he heads to work right after. He wears a turtleneck to hide his thoroughly bitten skin and finds he enjoys keeping a dirty little secret.

He happens to be alone behind the counter when L walks up. His own neck is covered with makeup that only Light is aware of.

“Your usual?” Light asks.

L unsubtly looks him up and down. “Yes, but with two more shots of espresso.”

“Your heart’s going to explode.”

“I’m a paying customer.”

Light rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

As he starts the lengthy process of ringing up L’s concoction, L leans over the counter and says low enough for no one else to hear, “That’s a good boy.”

Light noisily clears his throat. Can he will himself not to blush? Can that be mind over matter? Regardless, he’s doomed to ride out a hot, prickly dizzy spell, remembering how L has used those words in a very different context. “I’ll have that right out for you.”

L chuckles and saunters away. He’s a complete, unapologetic menace, and when they’re both off work later, Light will tumble into his bed and let him fuck his brains out. After just a few days, he feels like they’ve known each other for years.

None of it makes any sense. It defies every one of Light’s careful expectations. Still, more than anything, he is content.