you don’t have to elaborate at all if you don’t want to btw, but I can’t get L with a crush on fellow detective/friend out of my head! He’s definitely a starer imo 👀 👀 👀
"What?"
"..."
For a second, you thought L would stay silent and keep looking at you with those painfully hopeful eyes he only gives to you.
"I like the way you look."
You look back at him. The room is illuminated by the monitors, the only sounds are the computers fighting overheating and Light's shallow breathing in his sleep. It's comfortable and familiar, the smell of laundry detergent and the sweet aroma of spongy cake sits light in the air.
L has his thumb childishly stuffed between his pink lips, his big eyes trained on you and seemingly seeing way too deep inside your soul for your preference.
You snort and shake your head in a lame attempt to dismiss the flush creeping up your neck. "You have a weird way of talking, Ryuzaki. Anyone ever tell you that?"
"In some variation, yes." His hair falls just barely to the right as he tilts his head, you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't paying such close attention to him through your peripheral. You ignore that mental revelation.
"...Did you mean it?"
His chair scraps on the ground as he scoots closer to you.
"What reason do I have to lie?"
"I dunno... you're the smarter one here, you always have some fucking motive or something." You mumble the last few words and shrug, dropping your eyes to his hands that line up and assemble gummy bears in an apparently random order.
"You discount your own investigative abilities. You're quite the detective, Miss Y/n." L pushes with praise evident in his tone.
You're doing a poor job at hiding how his words effect you. With purpose and some difficulty, you roll your eyes and feign nonchalance.
"I told you to stop with that 'Miss' junk, it's just Y/n."
His eyes are on his hands where he holds the bears in one and prods at them with the second in a manner that you realize means he's weighing them and separating them based on that. It makes you giggle behind your palm.
"Of course, Miss Y/n." Now you know he's fucking with you and he's enjoying it too, his smile matches yours in his own diluted way.
"Oh my god..." You murmur under your breath. "You're ridiculous."
"..."
You look up at the quietness that meets your words and find his eyes doing that deep soul-search again. The way his long eyelashes hang shakily over his dark pupils somehow say I'm only ridiculous for you.
It's adorable and lovable and makes you feel like the most important thing in the world. This time you can't look away or shrug it off or laugh, this time it's too magnetic. It pulls you in by the belt hoops of your jeans, by the nape of your neck, by the swirling in your stomach intensifying to an almost cruel extent.
You could wonder how he got so close, so close his chair arms overlapped with yours. You could wonder what horrible consequences could come from acting on impulse. You could wonder what this meant for the investigation moving forward. But you didn't.
You let yourself move ever closer, push his legs out of your way and begin breathing barely an inch away from his face.
"Is this okay?" You ask with hazy eyes and parted, panting lips.
"Yes." He responds with his persistent clinical tone but his face looks too desperate to hide how he's feeling.
There's silence besides the sound of your lungs sharing air and for a second, L worries he's done something wrong and you'll pull away once you realize.
Then you're finally kissing him, enveloping his pillowy lips with yours and stealing his desperation from him. It fills your body in turn and you're pushing for more, fisting the shirt on his shoulder and letting your mouth move against his in an embarrassingly needy way.
When you pull away, his face chases yours. He still needs you, he thinks in that carnal, animalistic part of his mind. The satisfaction your kiss gave was so much more physical than any other, more than solving a case or enjoying a desert or even wrapping his fingers around himself in the dark depths of the night and bringing himself to heaven with the thought of you.
His usual high came from solving crime but that high was felt in his mind and it certainly didn't make him feel dizzy like this. This high was felt in his bones, his blood, and his pants; it was a physical satisfaction for the first time. He enjoyed it much more than he did when it was just mental.
It was so good because it was all yours to withhold and give, to bless him with and to make him yours. The desire to kiss you again, to breathe you in again nearly brought him to his knees.
"Can I kiss you again?" You ask in that breathy, sweet voice of yours.
L has never wanted you to shut up like he does right now, in fact, he does it for you.