Title: Shortcakes

Pairing: LxRaito

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do own glasses, but Death Note? No.

Summary: Fluffy oneshot series. 7th Shortcake: Sleep: L had always seemed oddly awkward when 'sleeping'. LxRaitoxL

Word Count: 755 words

A/N: I've been napping a lot lately, and this just randomly popped into my head. Sorry for the delay!

Lol! Enjoy!

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"Who's pickle is this!?"

-- Lois, Family Guy

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7th SHORTCAKE: SLEEP

Raito could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen L sleep. Aside from the embarrassing memory of the detective curled around him, clutching round his waist in an attempt to stave off imaginary cold brought on by his fever, L had always seemed oddly awkward when 'sleeping'.

Very much like now.

The Task Force were gone, the clock already ticking merrily towards two in the morning, and Raito was ready to use the pile of folders he was supposed to be reading through as a pillow and be done with it all. However, as he had turned to his captor with the intention to complain until his demands for a bed and blanket were met, the words had died on his tongue at seeing the insomniac man hunched over in his seat, out cold and in an awkward position.

Raito clucked his tongue disapprovingly, remembering that L had been chugging along through the nights without rest on nothing but sheer will and cans of energy drinks. It was no surprise to him to see that L had randomly passed out from exhaustion in the middle of his laptop loading a page on some mess of information and numbers.

L was slumped almost to one side on his chair, arms wrapped loosely round his knees and his cheek pressed against the coarse faded fabric of his jeans, which would assuredly leave a patterned groove on the milky white skin. All in all, Raito knew that when L woke up later, he was going to have a serious crick in his neck, which, in the young genius's opinion, served him right.

Raito took this chance to softly lower his folders onto the table before him and stretch, groaning under his breath when his muscles screamed in protest and his joints cracked loudly in the empty and eerily silent room. He flinched, tired amber eyes flicking to the detective, but relaxed when it was apparent that nothing short of a fog horn blaring directly in L's ear would rouse the dark haired man.

Raito scrutinised his captor's face. The detective's mouth was oddly pinched, tense lines carved into the youthful but gaunt face as L's eyelids fluttered occasionally, the older man obviously entering the REM stages of sleep. Raito wondered if he was having a bad dream of some sort, but shrugged it off. Perhaps he was in a world where there was no confectionary, or white sweaters and jeans were outlawed by the government.

Raito pushed himself shakily to his feet; bending slightly and rubbing his thighs where the rush of blood flow to his legs made his skin prickle uncomfortably. He twirled his fingers habitually around the silver links of his handcuff chain and frowned, just realising a vital problem.

How the hell was he going to get to a proper bed with L acting as deadweight?

If L was any sane, ordinary human being, Raito would've nudged him awake and then they could go to bed, because a sane, ordinary human being would realise that if they're falling asleep at their work stations, they'd be essentially useless until they got some sleep. Unfortunately, L was not a sane, ordinary human being, but rather a crazy, irrational alien that tried oh so hard to blend in, but failed miserably.

Raito groaned and rolled his shoulders, eyeing the curled up male on the uncomfortable computer chair with annoyance. Well, there was one way to do it, and Raito would do it with no qualms if only there wasn't the matter of cameras.

He frowned. There were already rumours going on about him and L (courtesy of his loving and understanding father – and fuelled by L's obliviousness), and only Watari would look at them…unless the elderly butler was a secret gossip queen (and that brought up horrible images), what Raito was about to do would never grace the knowledge of the Task Force or L himself…hopefully.

Rolling his shoulders again, Raito marched forwards and frowned at his unconscious captor, eyes crossing momentarily before the young genius scooped down and awkwardly corralled L into his arms, bridal style, making sure not to get tangled up by the chain between them in the process.

"You are a thorn in my side, Ryuuzaki." Raito grumbled to the asleep detective, adjusting the thin – almost worryingly frail – dark haired man in his arms and walking towards their shared room, most of his mind focused on a nice, warm bed.

Raito didn't notice L's pained expression ease.

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A/N: That's actually an introduction to a fluffy scene muuuuuuuch later in the story.

Well, hope y'all enjoyed!