A/N: As requested by a fellow and lovely reader, here is my first yaoi fic featuring L and Light. I tried to make them as in-character as possible, and I hope I did the pairing justice.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

Prompt: L/Light (rated M).

To: Sailormercury117. Enjoy!

Praying Mantis

The moment he unlocks the cuffs, the moment he releases Light Yagami from custody, L realizes that he may very well be sealing his own doom.

And he can't do anything about it. Not with Aizawa and Matsuda hounding him like dogs. Not with the mountain of evidence shoved into their faces: Yotsuba, Higuchi, Rem the Shinigami, the notebook, that one rule.

The very moment Light is freed, L can't breathe.

He's suffocated by the boy's unwelcome and intrusive presence, and he's painfully aware that every move he makes is being monitored. He can't shake him off, no matter how many times he reminds Light that he is free to pursue his relationship with Misa Amane. It's always the same answer – Light is in no mood for romance. He won't rest until they solve this case.

But what else is there to solve?

L hates it, the vague but pressing sensation that he is being scrutinized under a microscope. Every time the detective glances up from his laptop, Light is there, staring at him. Every time L questions the Shinigami, he can feel Light's eyes burn into the back of his neck. Watching, waiting.

Light asks him if he's being a nuisance.

Yes.

L says no.

No, because you are more than just a nuisance.

L is astounded that the others don't find it the least strange – suspicious – that Light won't leave him alone. He's just a teenager, eighteen years old. He doesn't belong in their world – shouldn't belong. Yet he's there. He's still there, and he wants something. Something other than "solving the case" – since there is no real case. Not anymore. Why does he keep insisting otherwise? What else is he staying for?

L is pretty sure he knows the answer.

Light wants some time alone, just to talk. Just the two of them, just one on one.

He will never give him that courtesy.

Watari is his only escape now. Watari, holed up in one of the building's many logistics rooms. Watari, who spins around in his chair and takes in L's defeated stature.

Ryuzaki, is something the matter?

He nods, peering up from beneath his bangs.

What is it?

L is afraid to say it out loud. Because if he does, he'll scare Watari as well.

Hmm?

His fists become clenched balls of skin, knuckles and bones in the pockets of his jeans. His heart flutters; its beats are now suddenly limited. He was never invincible, never a god like Kira aimed to be, but L has never felt so pathetically human before.

What's wrong?

Everything is wrong. The pieces don't fit as cleanly as they should. The Shinigami is evasive, and they are going nowhere. L zeroes in on the last rule written in the notebook: the thirteen-day rule. He hates that rule with a white-hot passion. It is the smoking gun to Light and Misa's innocence, non-guilt, and he hates it. Every inch, every fiber of his being rebels against it. It's wrong, he isn't.

Watari understands this. He'll make preparations as soon as possible.

But not soon enough.

L is starting to feel edgy, almost desperate, so the next time Misa comes by to visit, he decides to eavesdrop because the cameras are not enough. He feels like a fool, like he's walking straight into a trap, but he can't help it. He would never forgive himself if he knowingly passed up a clue.

There is none.

Their meaningless conversation fades and dies within minutes. Misa skips down the stairs waving goodbye, and Light turns to head back. Before L can slip away from the corner he's hiding behind, Light Yagami is in front of him, looming above him, glaring down at the crouching man.

"You were spying on me," Light says blandly.

L has no choice but to validate the obvious.

"Yes."

Light's eyes narrow into cold slits, but he stays silent. L unabashedly climbs to his feet and makes his way back inside the building with Light trailing behind him, dogging his heels.

L slows his pace. "You're following me."

"We're both going up," Light points out. His composed tone is maddening, especially because he shouldn't be so calm. He should be blatantly furious with the detective for overstepping his boundaries, for disrespecting his privacy. But he isn't. It seems as though the younger man has already forgiven L's transgression, but L knows better.

There aren't any cameras inside the stairwells.

"Ryuzaki," Light hisses, and he suddenly has him pinned against the panelized metal wall.

L wants to kick him, but Light has a dangerous grip on his collarbone. He can't call out either, because Light's other hand is at his throat, alternating between massaging and outright squeezing. He can only fight to mask his distress and return Light's venomous gaze.

"Kira," L says icily.

"No. Shut up. Why are you still on that?" Light's hold on him tightens. The pressure increases tenfold.

"I am never wrong."

"You never admit when you're wrong," Light seethes.

"I am never wrong," L repeats.

"But you are."

"Then you think being wrong constitutes choking me to death?"

"You –!" Light's face twists into something sad and ugly at the same time. "You were eavesdropping. You really know no boundaries, do you?"

"It took you this long to realize that?"

"You're obsessed with me," Light whispers.

L doesn't confirm or deny it. He is obsessed with Kira. It's his job to.

Instead, L shrugs. "You are obsessed with me," he says mildly despite himself. L glances down purposefully at Light's outstretched arms, at his close proximity.

The younger man looks surprised at this insolent response. An angry blush spreads across his cheeks, and Light steps closer in defiance. The boy's mouth is at his ear now, hot and quiet.

"Tell me, L. Does hating me make you happy?"

L squirms but refuses to answer, not because he can't, but because it's partly true, and it would be childish to admit it. Hating Light is easy. He's young and beautiful and has everything going for him. He has disproven L's theories over and over again, disgracing his name and title; he beat him to Yotsuba; he has his father and his father's colleagues to back him up at all times.

It's laughable. Light Yagami, eighteen years old, is the leader that they all want. It is Light Yagami they trust, respect, need.

Not L.

"I thought I was your friend. Or do you just like keeping your enemies close?"

L clenches his jaw. "So you're proclaiming yourself to be my enemy?"

"No." To L's surprise, Light drops his hands completely. His steely gaze softens as L rubs his aching neck. "I'm not your enemy, Ryuzaki. In fact, I like you. A lot."

L isn't sure what to say. Light is still too close for comfort and he won't look away. He's watching, waiting. What is he waiting for?

Then he does the unexpected.

Light kisses him.

Light's lips are firm and warm, but L finds no pleasure in them because he automatically reels back in shock and revulsion. He has never been kissed on the mouth before, and he despises the fact that Light has just stolen his first one – his first kiss. Not that he has ever planned on reserving it for anyone in particular.

Light leans in for another, with hurt and determination in his eyes. L promptly gives the younger man a violent shove, and Light goes sprawling across the floor.

"Don't ever touch me again," L says flatly.

Light's voice is barely discernable from the ground: "But I want to."

L says the first thing that pops into his head. "And Amane? Do you think you're being fair to her?" He couldn't care less about Misa, actually, but he asks this anyway because he wants to gauge Light's reaction, because he needs to stall for time to analyze this turn of events – Light's new tactics. He has to be out of his mind to kiss him like that. Either that, or a monster who likes to toy with its food before devouring it.

Light sounds exasperated. "I've said it before. It's a one-way thing. I hold nothing but mutual respect for her."

"You seem to be encouraging her misconceptions," L says coolly.

"You're a hypocrite, Ryuzaki."

Bizarrely, Light crawls toward him on all fours. L doesn't budge, and Light successfully locks his legs into place against the wall again.

"What are you doing?" L demands.

"You watched me in my sleep," Light says slowly, "and you watched me in the shower. You watched me eat, drink, breathe. You cuffed us together, and it wasn't even necessary for around-the-clock surveillance. You're obsessed with me, aren't you, Ryuzaki?"

L's blood runs cold. Light is close to the truth, but for all the wrong reasons.

Light Yagami consumes his thoughts because he hates him. L wants to destroy the boy, watch his supposed perfection – arrogance – crumble into tiny pieces in affirmation of L's title as the world's greatest detective. Light is unlike any other adversary he has ever faced. Even if he isn't Kira – no chance – there is something about Light that he just wants to stamp out. In reality, Light is little more than a child, but Light Yagami – Light is everything L is, and everything he isn't.

Yes, that was it. He sees too much of himself in Light, and there is only enough room in the world for one L.

"No," L spits out. "I'm not."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying…"

"You are, and I'll prove it right now."

Before L can protest, Light's hand is at his zipper and slipping into his briefs. L suppresses a gasp when Light's fingers enclose around his involuntary erection, gently drawing it out into the open. L's uncircumcised penis sways in the air in front of Light's enraptured face, thick and veiny and ready. Light gives it an experimental stroke, and L grits his teeth.

It's nothing that Light hasn't seen before, but this is so rudely intimate. It's unorthodox, but it isn't illegal, because L feels no inclination to stop the younger man's actions. It's like watching a train wreck: L is terrified, but he can't look away. He can't pull away. He's trapped and too curious for his own good at once – a lethal combination.

Light throws a satisfied smirk up at him. "Exactly my point," he murmurs, kissing the silky foreskin.

Still, L attempts to salvage his dignity. "It was a natural reaction –"

"Then don't fight it," Light says sleekly.

"No, Light-kun. This isn't professional!"

"It never was professional to begin with, Ryuzaki." And then he leans in again.

This time, L settles down and lets him, because there is nothing else he has to lose.

If he is to die soon, he may as well die an experienced man.

Light's tongue darts out like a snake's. It delicately grazes the tip of L's straining erection, collecting the shining beads of liquid oozing out of his slit. His eyes bulge in response and his fingers instinctively tighten in Light's hair. The boy's tongue begins to swirl faster and faster, and L bangs his head against the wall, debating whether or not to vocalize his gratification.

"You like that, don't you?" Light murmurs around L's cock.

He's turned on beyond belief. L can barely breathe, so he merely nods even though Light can't see him.

"And this? Do you like this?"

Light's hand tentatively brushes against his testicles, and L lets out a little whine like an animal in heat. He is an animal in heat. He's spiraling out of control now, and somewhere in the back of his mind, L knows he should stop.

But he doesn't.

A part of him wants to see how far he can push him, how far he can go. A part of him is excited to see whether or not Light – Kira – would actually ever stoop that low. But here he was, already on his knees and between his legs – servicing him, worshipping him.

Sucking the life out of him.

L's ready to burst. When Light finally slides L's entire dick past his lips and down his throat, he loses himself completely. Light's mouth is hot and wet and eager. He's inexperienced and scrapes with his teeth, but it still sends L careening over the edge. Soon, the detective's hips begin to buck of their own accord, wanton and frantic and wild. L blindly grapples onto Light's head as he pounds himself against the boy's face, humping it and burying it into his pubes. It's skull-fucking at its finest. Yes, he's fucking Light's brains out, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

Their moans grow louder and louder until L can't tell them apart. It's his first blowjob, and he knows he definitely won't last much longer. He's too aroused and his senses are overloaded. L can feel his ball sac swell and tighten, rising up beneath his pulsing shaft –

Light suddenly gags, unable to keep up with L's frenzied thrusts, and he digs his nails into L's inner thighs. L's sensitive skin burns with pain. For one awful moment, his eyes flare open and he freezes.

L instantly realizes that he's in a vulnerable position. Not emotionally or mentally, but…

Physically.

The Japanese boy's perfect mouth is dripping before his exposed genitals, open and breathless. His teeth, white and straight, glisten with saliva. L can't take his eyes off them. They are made for biting, chewing, ripping and tearing apart.

After savoring their prey, that is.

The image of a praying mantis flashes through his mind. The female, to be precise. It has the appearance of reverence before it seduces and strikes, before it decapitates its mate in hopes that it would enhance the fertilization process. And after the male orgasms to a pleasurably painful death, she is left chomping away on the head of her victim.

L's arousal drops several notches.

"Sorry about that," Light says hoarsely. He licks his lips and moves in to engulf his cock again, to swallow him whole.

L immediately jerks back in horror, his hands flying to the front of his jeans. His hands are shaking, and he unsteadily tucks himself back into his underwear and yanks up the zipper.

"That's enough," L says between pants. "As I said, don't ever touch me again."

Light doesn't speak for a full minute. L is breathing hard, embarrassment and adrenaline flooding through his system like fast-acting poison. Then the boy stands up. His eyes are glittering with tears from the gag reflex, which he wipes them away with his sleeve. But he's smiling.

"As you wish," Light says quietly.

"Take the elevator," L continues, staring Light dead in the eye. "Do not follow me. I don't want to be bothered."

"Alright."

An hour later, however, when L is standing in the rain and letting it wash away everything that it can, he feels it again. His eyes, burning into the back of his soaked neck. L tilts his head to the side and sure enough, Light is standing there.

Watching, waiting, as though he has come to collect a prized meal.

L beckons him forth anyway.