kə·res · kən·suːm

Right now, as he tried to get down his thoughts about the morality and function of law enforcement, a dull, high-pitched hum reverberated through the thin dry wall beside him. That wall acted as the barrier separating his roommate’s bedroom from the rest of the apartment.

Him and Light Yagami had been sharing this subsidized unit for the last two semesters, and overall, they hadn’t had many problems. Light was neat, quiet, and responsible. A picture perfect roomate. He was a year behind L in terms of credits, but as for intelligence and maturity, they were about the same.

It made them a good match. For the first time in his life, L felt like he had someone who could keep up. In conversation, they could go beat for beat, talking past anyone else in the room. Their whims matched up. There was really never any moments of awkwardness or confusion between them. For the first time, he could say he had a real friend.

Most of the time when Light was in his bedroom, the apartment was silent. If he wasn’t talking to L, it sounded as if he wasn’t there at all. He never watched movies, never listened to music, never did anything that L could hear.

Until you started coming around.

You and Light began dating almost three months ago to the day. The two of you had met in some class — or maybe it was at a study group. Or was it when you were working in the library? No, none of those sounded right. Honestly, L had a hard time remembering the exact origin of your coupling because he’d been so shocked to find out that Light had landed a girlfriend at all.

Prior to Light asking if it would be ok if he had a girl over, L didn’t think he knew any women besides his mother and sister. He never expressed any interest in dating. He’d never talked to L about any past girlfriends or crushes. Light never even let his eyes drift over a girl’s figure when walking to class. Any time the subject came up, he seemed to brush past it effortlessly.

L figured he was just so hyper-focused on his studies that he didn’t have the energy for a girlfriend. Or maybe there was something else going on that he didn’t want to talk about, that he would prefer to keep repressed. Either way, he just never expected someone like you to come strutting through their front door, all sweet and smiley and smelling of jasmine, claiming to be Light’s girlfriend.

Over the last twelve weeks, L had seen you two together several times, but it never got any less odd to him. You didn’t seem like Light’s type, and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what you saw in his roommate. He was perpetually waiting for the day Light told him the two of you were done, but so far it hadn’t come.

It wasn’t like he wanted it to necessarily. L had no problem with your presence. Quite the opposite, in fact. You were charming and sweet. Before Light pulled you off to his bedroom, you’d always try your best to make conversation. And often when you came to their apartment, you’d bring him cookies and slices of cake from the bakery next to your building.

All that to say L really had no issue with you hanging around — except on days like today when he needed to focus. That noise coming from beyond the drywall was a pop song. One by your favorite singer.

His lips pursed in silent annoyance. He’d been trying to ignore the music for the past fifteen minutes to no avail. And the problem was, it wasn’t actually the music that bothered him. It was what it was no doubt intended to cover up.

Light loathed any song that made its way into the top 100. L had heard him say some variation of that statement countless times. There was no chance he was just letting you play that music for the sake of your enjoyment. Not unless Hell froze over. No, in reality, L was certain the music’s high pitched vocals and non-stop instruments were meant to conceal a chorus of noises of your own making. Light probably let you pick whatever songs you liked as long as it served as the back drop to him getting what he wanted.

L’s teeth dug into the plush skin of his bottom lip as he imagined it. He could just picture you spread out on the bed, squirming and practically glowing with desire. You were probably the kind of girl to wear cute, patterned underwear if he had to guess. Maybe little cherries speckled across your hips or tiny bows with lace lining the trim. God he could see it so vividly, how you would keen under his hands, arch up into his touch, begging for more without saying a single plea. He could almost hear how you would moan for him, all breathy and soft. Pretty broken cries of his name instead of your boyfriend’s.

He really shouldn’t be thinking about any of that at all though. Shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts away and tried to refocus on his paper. It was hard though. It was hard to give a damn about anything to do with morality when you were still dancing around his head in nothing but those little panties he’d dreamt up for you.

With a sigh, he rolled his chair back from his desk. He was about to call it quits for now and go take a break to jerk off when suddenly giggles erupted from behind the thin wall. The music went silent and then a flurry of words came after it, both from you and Light. Some shuffling followed.

Finally, his bedroom door burst open and he came tearing out. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt was on backwards. He stormed a few paces into the kitchen, his back facing L. You followed a few seconds later, still tugging your own top back into place.

“Light, wait!” you said. “Baby, I wasn’t laughing at you. I just thought it was cute.”

“Don’t call me that,” Light mumbled.

You huffed, and L didn’t have to see your face to know the little pouty look that was displayed across your features. That and the whiny tone you were using really weren’t doing him any favors in terms of cooling off. He silently wondered if it would be awkward to slip off to his room right now.

But before he got the chance, he was drawn into the conflict.

You’d touched Light’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, but he’d pulled away. However, there was really only so much room in a tiny student apartment for the theatrics of a lover’s quarrel. All Light could do was spin around and face the other counter top, which also put him facing L.

“What are you looking at?” he said.

From this angle, L could see how his cheeks were slightly flushed. “Trouble in paradise?” he offered with a shrug.

He sneered and turned around only to find you waiting for him. Your hands landed on his waist, ensuring he couldn’t avoid you again. You stood there with sweet eyes looking to make things all better.

“It’s not a big deal. You don’t have to be embarrassed,” you said softly. 

You had lowered your tone in an effort to keep the conversation between you and your boyfriend, but L could still hear in perfect detail. In fact, he was more interested now than he was before. What could embarrass Light? He was the most confident person L had ever known. It bordered on arrogance, the way he was willing to debate his own obvious mistakes with full confidence before conceding that he may have been wrong about something.

He watched without shame as you continued to soothe him.

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s normal to have a hard time with that if you’ve never done it before,” you reassured.

He scoffed and looked away, but not in his normal brash manner. There was some actually insecurity there.

“There was something Light couldn’t figure out? Have you alerted the media yet?” L asked with artificial disbelief.

Your head popped out to peer at him past your boyfriend’s arm. You were trying to look stern, but he could see the hints of a smile on your face.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” you chided, almost playful towards him.

It really wasn’t helping in terms of his feelings towards you.

“I’m not being mean,” he said. “It seems like something serious happened. The two of you rush out here, arguing, shirts on backwards. Am I not allowed to be curious?”

Both of you looked down at your shirts as if to check their alignment, but only Light’s cheeks grew more crimson.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t anything serious.”

Light shot him a look over his shoulder. “And it’s none of your business, so stay out of it.”

“Maybe if you stayed in your bedroom it wouldn't be. But it becomes my business when you bring it into the living room where I’m trying to work.”

“No, it doesn’t. And no one is going to tell you either way,” Light said. He pulled free from your gentle hands and rounded the counter, reentering the living room side of the space.

“It must be pretty embarrassing if you’re being so defensive about it,” L continued.

“Nothing as embarrassing as how desperately you’re prying into our affairs.”

“Oh, come on. The only reason it’s so daunting is the mystery you’re surrounding it with. If you'd just tell me what happened, it’d satisfy my curiosity and I’d never bring it up again. You’d probably feel less embarrassed about it without the pressure of keeping a secret,” L said.

Fire blazed in Light’s eyes. His fists clenched at his sides.

If you weren’t here, he might have lunged at L. As composed as Light liked to appear, he got riled up easier than anyone L had ever met. Usually it was about silly things. L found quite a bit of pleasure prodding at him for benign reasons. He’d tease him about his mannerisms, maybe the way he said something, his interests, or his plans for the future. And after months of sharing this apartment, Light became comfortable enough to loosen up.

They’d roughhoused in this living room countless times. It surprised L the first time he went for it. His painfully straight-laced roommate wrapping his arm over his neck in a headlock. But it didn’t perturb him enough to reject the idea.

The two of them would play around until one pinned the other to the ground, chests heaving and lips settled into smiles. That was the most relaxed Light ever looked. When the action was over and the both of them were lazily settling against the couch to resume whatever conversation they’d been having.

Though if he were to strike at him right now, L doubted it would be in jest.

Normally, he wouldn’t poke at something so obviously sensitive. He did consider Light a genuine friend after all. However, just as your presence made Light act stiff as a board, you made L want to show off a bit, like a peacock spreading its feathers for a potential mate.

But before he could do anymore peacocking, you stepped in on your poor boyfriend’s behalf.

“You guys, cool it,” you said, keeping your tone soft. Your fingers interlaced with Light’s as your eyes swept between the both of them.

Light was quick to retract his hand from your grip. The thorns of shame from whatever had happened between you two were still digging into him.

Letting out a small sigh, L decided to take some mercy. “Light. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad. She’s not running out of here screaming.”

You nodded right along. “It really wasn’t bad at all. Like in a couple months, I probably won’t even remember it happened.”

Light was not a fan of being placated though. His cheeks burned a deeper shade of humiliation while his arms crossed over his chest. He was clearly trying to look standoffish or unbothered, but all either of you could see was shame — someone so high-strung, intent on always being the best, nearing the point of snapping.

“Light…” you pouted and reached for his arm again.

It pushed him right over the edge. He stepped away and fixated his furious stare on you instead of L.

“Can you just quit it?” he snapped. “I don’t need you babying me and making me look pathetic.”

That seemed to be your final straw with him. Now your features were hardening in a similar fashion. Your brows furrowed, and your posture went stiff.

“I’m just trying to be nice to you! You’re the only one making yourself look pathetic by throwing a tantrum,” you said, quick and sharp.

“A tantrum?” he repeated, incredulous with your accusation. “I’m not throwing a tantrum! I’m upset because you and L seem to be intent on acting like the two most annoying people on earth!”

Both you and L opened your mouths to defend yourself, but he continued on with his rant.

“And you know, you’re not blameless in this situation. Don’t try to act like I’m being unreasonable. Am I not allowed to be upset with my girlfriend for laughing at me during a moment of vulnerability?”

“I didn’t laugh at you!” you snapped. “I laughed because I thought it was cute you couldn’t get a bra off! I wasn’t judging you or anything like that, but you immediately got defensive and freaked out. How was I supposed to tell you? I was just gonna take it off myself so we could get on with things if you hadn’t stormed out here!”

It took you a few moments to remember that this argument was taking place in front of an audience. Your hand covered your mouth, as if somehow your palm would be able to cram the words back inside. Light stared at you, breathing heavier as his anger reached uncontainable levels.

From the sidelines, L shook his head. “Oh Light…” he said, his tone walking the thin line between sympathy and pity. “That’s all? You couldn’t get her bra off?”

A sputter came from Light, his words all tangled up. “That’s not- I- I didn’t- She just-” he tried, but L clicked his tongue a few times, tutting to spare him the pain of completing a coherent sentence.

“You know you could have just come out here and asked me for some help. Undoing women’s undergarments can be quite a challenge for the inexperienced, but I would’ve shown you how, no problem.”

That was all Light could take. Now your presence didn’t matter, he darted for L all the same.

L was ready for him though. He blocked his first strike with ease, and wrangled him into a grapple. In the background, he could hear your gasp, then a few pleas for them to calm down. But Light’s grip remained firm, so in turn, his did as well.

The two of them had similar builds, both slender and lean. Their strengths matched up pretty well too. It took a couple seconds of awkward shuffling and grunting before L gained the advantage. He swept Light’s leg out from under him and pinned his shoulder blades to the ground beneath him.

Unlike their usual matches, Light didn’t give up. He continued struggling and thrashing, trying desperately to somehow retake control.

“Are you guys crazy?! Get off the ground!” you said from a few feet away.

L stayed on top of him though. His hands maintained their position until Light began to calm down and his eyes made contact again.

“All of that was a little dramatic, don’t you think?” he said.

Light’s eyes narrowed. Again, he tried getting his arm loose to no avail.

“You really need to learn how to loosen up before you worry about doing the same to any of her clothing,” he teased.

With that, he receded off the body below him. He walked a few paces over to the couch and sat down, giving Light room to get to his feet.

He took the opportunity while you stayed in the same spot, arms cross over your body. You didn’t seem too eager to check on your boyfriend after the way he’d spoken to you.

“Are you two done now? I think I’m gonna go home…” you mumbled instead, taking a few steps towards the bedroom most likely to retrieve your shoes and bag.

L’s dark pupils flitted between the two of you in quick succession. First on your retreating form and then back to Light who was just back to standing. He could tell what he was thinking just from the look on his face. He didn’t want you to go — he was embarrassed about how he had reacted to the earlier mishap — but he wasn’t going to say any of that out loud.

“Was that the first time you two had been intimate?” L asked.

It stopped you in your tracks. You scratched at your elbow before awkwardly shaking your head. “No… we’ve done it a couple times before…”

He expected Light to scowl or tell you to shut up, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked away — that pink tint back on his cheeks.

“Just the first time Light’s been tasked with removing your bra then?”

“Um…” You looked to Light who offered no help. “Yeah… It really wasn’t a big deal,” you added, looking towards him once more to show the words were meant to reassure him.

He again, said nothing. He seemingly couldn’t look at either one of you. His eyes were firmly locked on the wall.

Despite the both of you being so obviously shy, L continued on as if this was the most normal conversation in the world. He leaned back into the couch cushions further, shrugging slightly.

“It would be a shame if you left angry. Light is obviously regretting his melt down. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see you go just yet.”

“I just feel like it would be better if we both cooled off,” you said quietly. 

The way you responded to L — like he genuinely had some kind of authority that could dictate whether you stayed or went — had his stomach fluttering.

“Are you sure? Letting things go cold are how they fizzle out entirely. I wouldn’t want that to happen to you and Light.”

That seemed to resonate with you a bit. Worry clouded your eyes as they lingered on Light’s shameful posture. Before you could come up with another argument as to why leaving would be better, L continued.

“Not to mention, it would be wrong to leave you so unsatisfied.”

One little word was enough to get both of you looking at him again. Light watched on with trepidation, wanting to interject but curious about where this was leading. You simply bit your lip and shuffled your feet a bit.

“It- it’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine,” you stuttered.

He hummed. It sounded like simple acknowledgement, but thoughts were running through his head. At the moment, you didn’t look shocked. You looked sheepish. You didn’t seem put-off by your boyfriend’s roommate making sexually-charged remarks towards you. Rather you appeared shy, like you had something to hide, like there was something you didn’t want him to discover that he was treading dangerously close to.

Then it clicked for him. Before he could stop himself, the question exited his mouth.

“Has Light ever made you cum?”

Your eyes widened, but at the same time, they only looked more timid. You quickly averted your gaze, not knowing how to respond.

“Don’t ask her that,” Light finally cut in on your behalf.

“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Has Light ever satisfied you?”

Never missing a chance to be self-righteous, Light interjected again. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

L shook his head, just as he had upon learning about the previous piece of this puzzle. Your lack of answers and Light’s sudden eagerness to provide some was all he needed.

“Oh, Light,” he sighed, this time much more mocking. “You really should have come to me sooner.”

His face was growing red again. His fists were back to clenching into tight balls. Words were probably becoming hard to grasp, tangling up in his throat once more.

“I think I should go…” you said, not wanting to be caught in your boyfriend’s line of fire for the second time today.

“I don’t think you should,” L said more directly. He waved in your direction, gesturing you towards the couch. “This issue isn’t going to settle it self. You two obviously need some guidance.”

A brief pause overtook the room as the words pieced together into a cohesive implication. The both of you clearly understood what he was getting at.

“Why don’t the both of you come over here?” he finished, leaving no room for interpretation,

Light was the first to respond, scoffing affrontedly. “Are you insane?”

“No. I’m trying to help you.”

It would be easy, so easy, with the information he now possessed, to steal you away. It probably wouldn’t take that much effort. Just like in those silly fantasies he had, you would moan and writhe beneath his strategic hands. You would whimper and beg for more, if for nothing than just wanting to feel something beyond clumsy, dull thrusts.

But L liked Light. He actually liked him. He considered him a true friend. And in a way he couldn’t articulate, knowing his friend who was so particular about everything, who had to always be the best, couldn’t make his girlfriend cum… it didn’t sit right with him.

Light didn’t seem as bothered by this predicament though. “I don’t need your help,” he insisted.

“Based on her reaction, I would say that you do,” L replied.

He narrowed his eyes. “You know, you don’t need to act benevolent. I’m not an idiot. If you want an excuse to touch my girlfriend, just come out and say that.”

“I’m trying to help you so she won’t want to give someone else an excuse to touch her,” he said. “Now, would you just stop talking and come here?”

Light was poised to protest again, but you actually took a few steps towards the couch. The sound of your socks scuffling across the wood was enough to kill his resistance. He almost looked betrayed. He clearly wanted to question you, to ask why you were even considering taking any of his roommate’s “help.” But so far you hadn’t given any specifics regarding his sexual inadequacies, and L would bet he wanted to keep it that way.

He patted the space beside him, ushering you along the rest of the way. You took the bait. In a matter of seconds, you were sitting beside him on the sofa.

It took a few more moments of hesitation before Light could do the same. Even when he did, he didn’t sit down next to L. He just stood about a foot away, his body stiff and visibly reluctant. That mask was coming back up, the one he wore when around the both of you. That was fine. L could work around it.

“Stop embarrassing yourself, and sit down next to your girlfriend,” he said coolly.

Light huffed, but he did listen. He shifted around and sat down next to you without another word.

“Good,” L praised. He still remained neutral in tone and expression despite the positive words. Perhaps that was what prevented Light from getting more agitated.

You both watched him with wary eyes, waiting for his next move with bursts of nervous anticipation flowing through your systems. His hand came out to rest on your shoulder.

“There’s no reason to be so nervous. We’re all friends here,” he said.

You relaxed ever so slightly under his palm, but he could see Light was still rigid on your other side.

“This is insane,” he grumbled.

L paid him no mind. Complain as he would, he was still sitting here, still watching with dilated pupils as L’s fingers rubbed gentle stripes onto the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Light,” he prompted quietly. “I want you to kiss her.”

Light’s nose scrunched into an expression of disgust. “Why? I don’t want you watching while we do that.”

“I can just show you myself then. I thought you would prefer to take the lead,” he said, purposefully baiting.

His free hand came up, lithe fingers tucking under your chin to nudge your face in his direction. To his absolute pleasure, you gave him no resistance. Your eyes were soft, and he could tell you were more than willing to experience a kiss from him.

But before he could lean in, Light’s hand swatted his out of the way.

“I’ll do it,” he said with a pointed stare.

He took hold of you and brought you in his direction instead, tugging you away like a possessive dog with their favorite toy. He didn’t seem too concerned about the fact that you hadn’t said no to kissing his friend. Rather, simply keeping you away from L took priority.

Your lips met in a silent, tender exchange. Light kept hold of your face while his lips moved against your own. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were more than willing to let him guide you through this.

L just watched, half with selfish interest, half with honest appraisal. This was like a puzzle for him. A beautiful, tempting puzzle, for which the answer would come in the form of your euphoria.

He took note of Light’s movements. From what he could garner, kissing wasn’t the issue. Your mouths moved together in harmony, you melted into his body in no time at all. His hands splayed across your back, keeping you snug against him.

L’s fingers grabbed his right one that was on the small of your back. Every muscle in Light’s body, tensed up at the contact. He inched back from your lips, shooting L a look.

“Keep going,” he directed him. “Let me show you.”

Those deep brown eyes stayed narrow and wary, but his lips found yours once more.

“You’re doing good, Light,” he praised.

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” he grumbled against your mouth.

That brought a small laugh out of you. You pecked his lips playfully. “Don’t be so uptight,” you said before beckoning him in for more kisses. He rolled his eyes but obliged you nonetheless.

It was all very interesting to L.

This dynamic between the two of you, he had still yet to figure it out. As much as Light seemed to yearn for control, you took it from him so effortlessly. Maybe that was why he stayed with you… An endless pursuit for dominance.

Though, the why wasn’t a pressing matter as of right now. Not while the two of you were sliding your tongues into each others mouths, and panting out increasingly heavy breaths before his eyes. You were starting to lean into Light more and more, like you wanted to crawl on top of him, so he knew it was time to step in.

“Light — before when you couldn’t get her bra undone, was her shirt on or off?” he asked.

Light grimaced at the mere mention of his failure, but he still mumbled out “on.”

L nodded. “There’s your first problem. While you’re still learning, start with it off. Especially since you know you’re going to have sex. There’s no reason for the barrier,” he said, so pragmatically.

“Who said we’re gonna have sex with you around?” he asked.

But before L could answer him, you cut in. “Just listen, baby. Just try it.”

Light huffed again, not one to let his displeasure remain unknown, but his fingers still went to the hem of your shirt. He hooked them beneath the fabric and then tugged upwards, quickly ridding your body of the covering.

He chucked it at L’s head. “There,” he said, marking the completion of his first task.

L simply let the fabric drape over his shoulder. He tugged it down and dropped it onto the floor. Before dealing with Light’s next move, he let his eyes drag over your body. You were just as gorgeous as he pictured you to be, all soft and smooth. Your bra wasn’t anything special, but it still looked perfect on you.

“Good. Now that you have unrestricted access, you can go about this a few different ways.”

To his credit, Light was paying attention now. He did seem interesting in figuring this out if for no other reason than avoiding future humiliation.

“You can either try to do it while kissing her, or-” He grabbed Light’s wrist and pulled him closer. “-you can hold her close. Maybe kiss her neck, whisper in her ear. And while you’re there, you should be able to see the clasp as you undo it.”

Hesitant as L had ever seen him, Light curled his arms around you and pulled you close. He followed the instructions, planting some delicate kisses along your throat. His fingers slid up to that clasp. They grabbed and tugged. L could see why this was such an issue. While Light’s fingers were very nimble, he simply had no clue what he was doing.

L helped out a little. He guided Light’s fingers into place on either side of the garment.

“Look at what you’re doing,” he reminded him.

Light held you even closer to his body, so that he could see over your shoulder to where his fingers were. At this angle though, he couldn’t really kiss your skin anymore. His cheeks were gaining some color again. Thinking of something to say was a whole new hill to climb.

He bit his lip before whispering out an attempt. “You’re so… good for me. You’re so… um… soft.”

It honestly wasn’t the worst L had ever heard. Spoken with some more confidence, he’d be fine. He just needed to find that sure-footing.

L scooted closer to you on the couch so that he was inches away from your back. Light looked at him, but he didn’t have anything to say. Right now he didn’t even have a glare. He honestly looked a little relieved. 

He watched as L’s hands held your arms and tilted you back slightly.

“May I?” L asked, looking into your eyes and then Light.

You glanced over at Light as well. To L’s surprise, he reluctantly nodded. With both of your approvals, L ducked in. His lips landed on your skin. He started off sweet, but soon his tongue swept over your pulsing artery. You shuddered in his grasp. He rewarded you with a few more kisses before swirling his tongue on your flesh again.

This time you let out a soft whimper for him.

“Such pretty sounds,” he murmured. He could practically feel your body light up at the words. You really were starved for attention.

His arms rubbed up and down on your biceps while he continued lavishing oral attention on your neck.

“You smell so good. And you taste even better,” he whispered.

Finally, his eyes looked towards Light. He was sitting there, watching intently. Envy had settled deep within his features. His cheeks practically glowed with embarrassment. But L could also see a slight bulge at the front of his pants so… he couldn’t have been too upset.

He backed away from you again, not missing how your body followed him a couple inches.

“Now you try, Light. You don’t have to be that poetic or creative. Just say what you think would make her feel good.”

With a sigh, Light leaned in once more. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” he grumbled.

He tugged you flush against him and slotted his head beside your own. Of his own volition, he nuzzled you a bit.

“I want to make you feel good. I want you to know I can make you feel good,” he whispered, so softly that L barely registered it.

You leaned further into his arms and even pressed a few smooches of your own on his neck. L stayed quiet, letting Light continue on by himself. He seemed to get it. As you came closer, he looked down your back and took each side of your bra between his fingers once more.

Now that he could see, it was apparent to him how to get it loose. He brought the pieces in together, and once he felt them go lax, he released. The fabric fell away, leaving the skin of your back completely exposed.

He smiled for an unguarded moment, just happy with his accomplishment. His eyes flitted to L beyond your shoulder. L simply nodded, not seeing the need to interrupt just yet.

Light drew back and slid each strap down your arms. The cups drifted away from your breasts and soon the bra was on the floor with your discarded shirt. Light looked down, drinking in the sight of your chest.

“Now, if I wasn’t here, what would you do?” L said.

High off his minor win, Light answered without hesitating. “Finish taking off our clothes, lie her back, and then, y’know.”

“Wrong,” L said bluntly.

Light’s joy vanished in an instant. He glared at L. “Well I’d kiss her too…”

“Still wrong,” he said. He scooted close to you once more. His fingers went to your waist. The digits coasted along your sides, eliciting chills across your skin.

“This is why you’re not getting her to finish, Light. You have to warm her up first.”

Light scoffed. “If girls are turned on already, they don’t need that stuff.”

“And you think you do enough to turn her on before you two go at it?” he asked.

“Well obviously.”

You shot him a look and flicked his arm, as if to say he was embarrassing you.

“Hey.” His glare turned to you.

L thought he might flick you right back, but before this conversation could devolve into childish bickering, he took hold of your shoulders and began guiding you into turning around.

“Your problem is, Light, that you talk about pleasuring her like it’s a chore,” he said. “You said you wanted to please her, didn’t you? That you wanted to make her feel good? Did you not mean it?”

“Of course, I meant it.”

“Well, good. I want you to watch how you’re going to do it then.” L’s hands splayed across your shoulders and urged you backwards. His eyes, along with his voice, softened as his attention went to you. “Lay back, put your head in Light’s lap,” he directed.

You followed along without a problem. It was again Light who had an issue.

“What do you mean watch? You- you’re going to-”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” L interjected. While he usually found Light’s stubbornness somewhat endearing, it was now the only thing coming between himself and tasting you. “Sit back and watch what I do. Then you’ll have a turn.”

“You can’t just- She’s my girlfriend. Why do you get to go first?” Light said.

“I just told you why.”

“Yeah, right. Like I believe it. You’re trying to set me up. You’re gonna go first, and then have me go next so she compares me to you.”

“Well… Do you think you’ll be a let down in comparison?”

“No, I-” Light said, only now realizing what his words implied. He gritted his teeth. His fist clenched.

L sighed. “Just be patient and watch then. Do I need to tell you that the best part of any sexual act is the ending?”

Finally, that got no objections from your boyfriend, and so L went to work. He crawled above your body, drinking in your figure with his eyes. He looked at your face too. All he found were your eyes slightly lust-blown and your lip pulled between your teeth once more.

His thumb came up and pulled it free before he dove downwards and kissed you. Technically, this wasn’t part of the teaching… but Light could think of it as compensation for his generosity.

You reciprocated his kiss with no hesitation. He kissed you with a little more intensity than Light had. His movements held the fervor of all the attraction for you he’d been holding back. 

He didn’t spend too long on your mouth though. In no time, he was moving South. His lips glided over your jaw to your neck. He laid some kisses there before continuing on to your chest.

This would be a teaching moment for Light, so he took his time, paid attention to your breasts in a way he was willing to bet your boyfriend never had. The quickness with which you arched up into that touch all but confirmed that for him.

He cupped each mound with a palm and worked his mouth all over the soft, malleable flesh. He knew Light was watching. He could feel his heavy stare on the back of skull. Also there he could feel your fingers carding through his inky black locks, gripping the strands with just enough force to give him that pleasurable sting.

Groaning against your breast, he lapped at your nipple one final time before easing his way down further. His lips feathered across your belly. He worked all the way to the button on your pants. It flicked open with barely any effort from his thumb and forefinger.

His eyes flitted up to you, scanning your reactions, checking for any signs of protest. But he found none. You still had that same needy expression on your face, and not far above, Light looked to be in the same boat. He was clearly invested, chest puffing up and down with deep, slow breaths.

L smirked slightly before ducking his head again. He pulled your bottoms down with a nice firm tug. Your panties went with them — internally, he noted he had been right about those. There were little rosebuds all across the fabric. Soon it all was on the floor with your other articles of clothing, leaving you completely bare between the two of them.

“You’re beautiful,” L said quietly, a genuine observation more than anything else.

A smile pulled at your lips. He gave you a similar one before kissing the inside of your knee. Then a little a higher on your thigh. Then a little higher, inches away from your center.

When he finally was there, face nestled at the junction of your thighs, he could see how wet you were. He could smell your arousal. But most of all, he could feel his mouth watering.

He looked to Light one final time. “Are you watching closely?”

“Just get on with it,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

And so he did. His tongue stuck out and stroked upwards between your folds. You shuddered at the touch. He wondered to himself if this was the first time you’d ever had a man go down on you. But unlike his other questions, he decided not to ask this one in front of Light. If all went well today, he was sure he’d have plenty of chances in the future to find out your answer.

His hands hooked around your thighs, ensuring you couldn’t get away from him at all. His mouth engulfed your cunt. He dragged his tongue over your slick skin once more and then again. You let out a real moan this time around, one loud enough to bounce around the living room walls.

It only spurred him on. He made out with your cunt, nice and loud too just so Light could hear. His tongue swept over your pussy in broad strokes. He made a little extra show of it so your boyfriend could gather what he was doing.

Up above, Light was watching; though, his attention alternated between L’s ministrations and your face. It almost fascinated him, the ways your features contorted with pleasure. The couple times you’d had sex he saw versions of these expressions, though much more muted ones.

L could see the gears turning in his head, that same drive he applied to everything else in his life. That need to be the best. The need to be better than everyone else.

Light reached down and tugged on one of your arms, taking your hand away from L’s head. His fingers laced with yours instead.

Though he missed your touch, it amused L.

He kept up his efforts, swirling little patterns onto your clit before thrusting his tongue within. You tasted so fucking good. For a little while, he allowed his eyes to shut as he enjoyed you. He focused on the sounds of your moans, the feel of your soft skin shifting beside his head.

But as soon as he felt you start to squirm a little too much, he pulled back. You whined. Your head popped up so you could pout at him. He rubbed your leg, as if that could make up for the lost release.

“Don’t worry. It’s Light’s turn now. He’ll make you feel just as good,” he said.

You didn’t look so confident. It was almost laughable; though he held in any bit of amusement he felt now that he knew how laughter could set Light off.

L rose to his feet and gestured for Light to do the same. They swapped places. Both of them were visibly hard, yet neither acknowledged it just yet. L got you comfortable between his legs, and Light settled himself between yours.

He gave you a look. “Just… tell me when it feels good,” he said.

With that, he tentatively lowered his head. Unlike L, he was more careful with his movements at first. He started with a couple gentle strokes of his tongue across your entrance. They were faint, feather-light and barely there, but you were still fairly sensitive from how much L had worked you up. That and seeing Light like this for the first time filled your stomach with more than enough butterflies.

Your fingers stroked over his sleek hair. The loving touch across his head convinced him to relax a bit more. You saw his shoulders slump a bit as stiffness left them. His hands came up to hold on to your thighs, just as L had done before.

His tongue continued to glide over your cunt. He swirled the tip all over. The second you felt a solid brush across your clit, you moaned. Your hips pressed down into the couch and you nodded.

“Like that, Light. You’re doing good,” you encouraged.

Although he’d often say he didn’t care what other people thought, that he always knew best, he seemed to preen at the sound of praise flowing from your lips. His tongue became firmer than. He pushed it against you with confidence, no longer trepidatious as he had been before.

You bit your lip, tilting your head back in bliss. Hums of pleasure vibrated within your throat.

Above you, L watched with his wide, dark eyes. “Feeling good?” he asked simply.

You nodded, head bobbing in his lap.

His hands came to stroke the curves of your skull. He soothed you as Light played with your sensitivities. Light had taken a liking to this. It was simple. He didn’t have to look at you, didn’t have to talk. He could just hold you there and make you unwind.

As he worked, his mouth grew louder and louder. Wet sounds of pleasure emanated from between your legs. The shimmer of your arousal coated your inner thighs along with the lower-half of your boyfriend's face. He was relentless as he was with all things, not stopping even when he had you writhing and whimpering for him.

Your hands flew up to clutch L’s thighs. A low groan fell from him. Your fingers dug into his legs, keeping a trembling hold on him. He studied your features as they scrunched and twisted with pleasure. You were beautiful. So so beautiful. Better than any of his fantasies.

“You’re a fast learner, Light,” he said.

Whether or not Light physically reacted, he wouldn’t know. But the deep moan he let out was unmistakable. Your hips bucked at the throaty sound. He held you down and licked with more fervor.

“Mhm, fuck, you are,” you whined.

With the way your noises were increasing in pitch and your movements were growing more erratic, all three of you could tell you were getting close. It was the first time Light had ever really felt it. The few times before this when you’d had sex with him, it was always you watching him — he knew that now. You’d watch his face for the feelings you were experiencing now. You’d track his orgasm, and right as he crested that high, you’d moan a little louder, you’d wrap your legs around him a little tighter, you’d bat your lashes a couple of times when he finally looked at you as if to say “good effort.”

But now, he knew what you coming undone really was. You had no control over the way your thighs were crushing his head. Try as you might to bite your lip, those sinful sounds of ruin exploded from your mouth without restraint. Your chest heaved, your back arched. Every muscle in your body moved with the momentum of this euphoria.

It was… addicting.

He worked you to that edge until you finally let out a shriek that was sure to make its way through the thin apartment walls. You cascaded over, clutching L’s jeans as tight as you physically could. His tongue kept working, feeling how you clenched around nothing with every flick.

When you were well and truly done, he pulled back and rose to his knees. He looked pretty like this. His mouth and chin shined with your arousal, his cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of being so close. Even his hair was more out of place than either you or L had ever seen before.

However, the heel of his palm came up and swiped away the mess you’d left. You smiled a little. Honestly, with the high your release gave you, he could do just about anything and you’d think it was the cutest thing ever.

L took the moment of peace to stand. Light’s eyes followed him. He took a few steps in his direction.

He reached out and ran a hand through his friend’s mussed hair. “Look how easy it is for you when you try.”

Light almost slipped, almost leaned into the touch and let him see how much he craved it. But he caught himself. He slipped away and scoffed. 

“All it proves is that we never really needed your help in the first place.”

“Hm. Maybe so. But I think you’ll find that getting her to finish just from being inside her is more of a challenge.”

L could see Light tense up. His shoulders went rigid. Obviously, the idea of L actually fucking you wasn’t exactly ok in his mind.

But luckily for him, that wasn’t what L had planned either.

“Relax. All I want is to watch,” he said.

Light seemed to loosen up at that. You didn’t seem put off either way. Your hand laced with Light’s, and you gave his palm a small squeeze of reassurance.

At the same time, L’s fingers tucked beneath the hem of his shirt. He tugged it upward and tossed it to the floor with your clothes. Light followed suit. He shed his backwards shirt, and then began shoving his pants down.

L popped open the button on his jeans. With both of their pants gone, it was apparent that both of them were hard. It didn’t bother L in the slightest; though, Light seemed a bit flustered by the prospect. 

Light also had a little darkened patch on the front of his boxers. He was dripping, leaking from some friction he found against the couch perhaps. It was cute to think about. L would have said that out loud if he didn’t think it would get a reaction worse than the one he had to you laughing at him.

Instead, he just sat down behind you on the couch where he’d been before. He leaned against the armrest, making himself comfortable. Light just stared at him.

“What are you waiting for, Light? Do you need me to show you how after all?” L asked, the faintest hint of mockery lacing his words.

Light huffed and looked to the side. “Be quiet. I was just thinking,” he said.

He didn’t need words for L to know what he had been thinking about. 

Light didn’t want to be the only one with his dick out.

L’s lips quirked at the idea. It was so simple, almost petulant. But he’d oblige him anyways. He pushed down the elastic band of his own underwear, letting his cock out into the open. It was pale like the rest of him, but with a bit more color now that he was turned on. He gave it a couple strokes.

Your head had turned to look too. You bit your lip at the sight of him. Your pupils followed his hand’s movements up and down his length.

Light got his boxers off while your head was turned. By the time you looked at him again, he was mimicking L’s movements, stroking himself slowly. His tip oozed pearlescent beads of precum while his fingers coasted across the familiar veiny shaft.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice wavering just a little on that final word.

“Mhm,” you responded. You laid back as you’d been before when he was eating you out.

The slight quiver in his tone was a discrepancy in Light’s usual stiff demeanor. L wondered if this was the first time you were seeing a crack in it too. Probably not. If Light acted so insufferable all the time, why would you stick around at all? It was hard to imagine, but he wondered if somewhere, there was a part of him that was smoother, softer. Some part you had seen that kept you coming back.

As your back hit the cushion, Light closed in. He moved closer, guiding his cock to line up with your entrance. His eyes flitted to L involuntarily.

For once, he didn’t mock Light. He gave him a subtle nod, keeping the intense eye contact between them.

He knew when Light slid inside of you. The both of you let out a noise of contentment. Your hips squirmed to adjust, your legs lifted and wrapped around his waist. His biceps trembled while his lashes fluttered.

Light pushed all the way, flush against you in one nice even stroke. He didn’t go too fast, just moved swiftly enough to make your breath hitch.

“You’re doing good,” you said from below him, reaching up to brush a piece of hair away from his eyes.

He let you. His own stare was intense on your face. He lowered himself on top of you one arm at a time, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, you feel good too,” he whispered.

You grinned. A smile that told L that was a new thing to hear. It looked like some of his advice was already paying off.

He spit down into his palm and continued to stroke himself. He was moving slowly right now, but he sped up as Light began to move his hips.

To a random viewer, this little scene might not be particularly interesting. You and Light, in missionary, not too loud or expressive. But to L, it was better than any porn he could’ve found on the internet, better than whatever he would have imagined in his head.

His eyes absorbed every detail of the two of you. The muscles in Light’s back flexing with each thrust. Your fingers digging into his shoulder blades, silently encouraging him. The way your lips pursed every time he rocked forward, how your toes curled behind him, the uneven nature of your breaths.

It was all perfect. He didn’t feel the need to say anything to either of you.

Light didn’t share that sentiment though. After a few more rolls of his hips and continued panting, he looked up at L.

“Doesn’t seem like such a challenge now,” he said. He wasn’t even trying to mask his smirk.

L kept on stroking himself. “I don’t know. In my eyes, she doesn’t look all that close to climaxing.”

“You can’t feel her,” he said. “You can’t feel how she’s squeezing me. Every time I move, it’s like she’s begging for more.”

“Then keep doing what you’re doing, Light. Maybe move a little faster, try different angles-”

“I know what to do,” he said.

Your hand slid up and cupped the nape of Light’s neck. You urged him down, back into the warm refuge between your throat and shoulder. Your eyes cast up to L.

You were curious, intrigued, both by his watchful gaze and his ever-moving hand. Tentatively, with the hand that wasn’t massaging Light’s neck, you reached backwards. L guided you, taking your soft palm in his and leading it to his dick.

Your fingers clasped around it in exploration. It felt different than Light’s but not in a way that stopped you from beginning to stroke too. The movement was a little awkward at this angle. L could tell you struggled to pump your fist up and down while pinned beneath your boyfriend.

He helped out a little. He held your hand still and began thrusting upward.

“Fuck.” A soft sigh fell from his lips. His head fell backwards, leaving his bobbing adam’s apple on full display.

Both him and Light inadvertently fell into a rhythm with one another. Light would fill your cunt, and in another second, L slid up between your fingers.

It felt good. Your nerves were on fire, lighting up all over. You knew Light was getting close. He was grabbing your waist harder, pressing his face into you tighter. You could feel the smear of his saliva on your neck, the muted vibrations of his groaning on your skin.

But you still weren’t quite there yet. Looking up towards L with pleading eyes, you began to slowly unlatch your fingers to take your hand away. L wouldn’t have it though. His own digits locked around yours.

He knew what you wanted, where your hand intended to go.

“Light, rub her clit,” he commanded.

Light glanced up, not wanting to reveal too much of his blissed out face. “What?” he asked.

“Her clitoris. Her clit. You know what that is, yes? Move your hand between your bodies and rub it,” he said, a little faster.

Not without rolling his eyes, Light took one of his hands off your waist and jammed it between your bodies. His fingers sought out that sensitive bundle of nerves. In no time at all, you felt a burst of pleasure there. You nodded as if he needed the affirmation.

The three of you were all steadily climbing the mountain together now. Every push of their hips, every breathy whine, every grip of someone’s fingers, it all pushed you forward to that peak.

“Fuck, Light, I- I-” you whimpered. He’d never heard you stutter or choke up in a moment like this.

He slammed his hips against you harder, lifting his head to study the reaction you were giving. Vaguely, he nodded.

“I’m gonna cum,” you finished.

He pressed his fingers down onto your swollen bud with a little more pressure. Just enough to light the spark that would get you there. When it finally happened, your back arched. You let out a sound like someone possessed. Your muscles spasmed in a way that would be difficult to fake.

He watched on in awe, savoring every flutter of your velvet walls around him. L saw his friend’s pupils locked onto you. His brows furrowed when his own release crept up on him.

The both of them hit the high at the same time. L’s cock kicked in your grasp. Ropes of sticky white shot onto his chest. Light came inside of you. It was a new feeling, his warmth flooding you. The last couple times he’d pulled out and let go on your stomach. But you’d told him before that you were on the pill, so this was much better in your mind.

Pulses of aftershocks coursed through each of your bodies as you came down. Your chests heaved, Light’s sighs puffing against your neck.

L disentangled from the two of you first. He stood up, his cock now hanging flaccid. He made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash his release off himself and then returned with a washcloth for you and Light.

Your boyfriend pulled out of you, taking the pale blue terry cloth and giving it to you to clean yourself up. Clothes came back on, and the pillows on the couch went back into place.

Light slumped back against the cushions while L took a seat in his desk chair once more. You looked between them, a soft smile on your lips. You kissed Light’s cheek.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” you asked.

At least it was nice to know nothing would be weird around the apartment in the aftermath of this.

Light looked reluctant. L knew movies weren’t really his thing. But you persisted. “Pleaseeeeee. I’ll let you pick,” you begged.

He took one more second before relenting. “Yeah, ok.”

“Yay,” you said before hopping up.

L expected you to drag Light off to the bedroom, your affections once more centered around your boyfriend only. But instead you pranced over to L and leaned down. Your lips hit his cheek in a soft kiss.

“Thanks for all your help,” you said playfully. You gave his arm a small squeeze. A grab that to him meant he would be helping out again some time.

He nodded at you. “It was no problem at all. If Light needs any more pointers, the two of you know where I’ll be,” he said.

“Doubtful,” Light said from behind you. He reached out and took your hand. He was the one to pull you off in the direction of privacy.

His dark eyes were locked onto your face where you were pressed into the mattress below him - your black police issue slacks long discarded, white button up splayed open, bra tugged limply up, resting beneath your collarbones to expose your bare breasts to him.

Despite the frankly obscene sight you were sure your body was painting below - his eyes had hardly left your face.

L seemed entirely focussed on tracking and cataloging each little contorted micro expression, each puff of air huffed out from between your bitten lips, each choked swallow hiding a moan, every lone twitch of your furrowed brows, every little movement of your eyes, softened and glassy as you tried to keep them from rolling back into your skull.

Without warning the steady rhythm he had set changed. Slow, shallow thrusts interrupted as he angled his hips, and suddenly each pump was longer, deeper - zeroed in on that sweet little spot inside that had you clawing at the freshly laundered sheets.

The resulting affect was immediate. Your jaw dropped open, slack with the sudden overwhelming throbs of pleasure searing down your limbs. Your eyes rolled back behind eyelids already fluttered closed.

Your hand flew to your face, slapped hard over your mouth to cover the tail end of an unexpected, spineless cry that escaped your throat.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t cover your face during this. Please look at me, Detective.”

His voice was deep and flat when it curled over your ears, the raw sound only stoking the blazing fire in your belly until you thought it might burn you alive.

You managed to wink an eye open enough to find that L was still peering at you with that black, devouring gaze. The only indication that he felt any of what he was doing to you was the subtle wash of pink dusted over his pale cheeks.

“I want to hear you.” He stated plainly.

Your fingers bit into the mattress below you, jostled lightly with each roll of his hips.

“It’s embarras-…-haaaa….” You tried, words trailing off into a feeble moan when you felt his hand slip between your parted thighs.

Slender fingers splayed over your fevered skin, above where he was pumping into you. His thumb eased down into your slick heat to draw slow, wide circles over your clit.

“It’s embarrassing?…” He echoed, finishing your sentence for you, tone one of mild intrigue.

Your eyes trace along the pretty painting of a lake that hangs above the bed over to the sleek door. You consider maybe venturing beyond the confines of this room. The lobby might have something interesting. Or there could be a swimming pool tucked away down there.

But he probably wouldn't like that. He'd said he (which meant you by extension) needed to keep a low-profile. Wandering around aimlessly downstairs probably wasn't what he had in mind.

So you sigh again. Louder and with more noticeable irritation this time. You dangle your head off the foot of the bed to look at where the desk is against the opposite wall. He still hasn't stopped typing, hasn't even looked back.

Looking at him only agitates you more. You're getting closer to ignoring his earlier directive. Hell, you bet he wouldn't even notice if you left with your suitcase in hand.

But before you can do anything, the clack of his keyboard comes to a halt. His right foot hits the floor. Then his left. You sit up so you're facing the wall instead of him. That doesn't stop the sound of his feet padding across the carpet from hitting your ears.

The blankets shuffle against one another as he climbs atop the mattress with you. He still hasn't said anything, so you don't reward him with eye contact. Instead you turn away once more, facing the window rather than your boyfriend.

"Darling..." he says, so quietly.

It's your turn to ignore him now.

He just crawls closer. His hand lands on your shoulder, lithe fingers curling towards your collar bone. The warmth of his body nears your back as his gentle breaths graze your ear.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks.

It's so stupid it almost makes you laugh. So obvious that it should be rhetorical. But he isn't joking, and you know it.

The pads of his fingers rub your skin. He eases you back slightly so that your back is in contact with his chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart at your spine.

"Please don't be angry," he mumbles, nosing at your ear. "I hate it when you ignore me."

"Funny cause you don't hate ignoring me," you retort. Your eyes drift to your hands in your lap.

"I wasn't ignoring you. I was just busy with work. You know how I get... focused and a bit oblivious."

You roll your eyes. That sounds more like an excuse than anything else.

Though for all his supposed "obliviousness," L was extremely perceptive. He catches onto your train of thought and puts an end to it with a kiss at your pulse point.

"I'm sorry if I've been distracted, but you knew I would be working if you chose to join me. I told you-"

"You told me that you would make time for me if I came with," you interrupt.

"And I am," he replies, the slightest pitch of defensiveness in his tone.

"Barely! We've been here all day and you haven't been away from the computer or the phone for more than thirty seconds. Every time I try to talk it's all 'one minute' or 'hold that thought' or just a noise. Not even words, just a noise to show you heard me."

He starts to back off a little bit, realizing he's getting nowhere. The feeling of him slinking back like a kicked puppy or something almost makes you feel guilty. Only almost though. The blooming sympathy within you is quickly trampled by the fact that you're spending your vacation from work here, doing less than nothing, when you could be doing literally anything else.

You stand from the bed and whirl around to finally look him in the eyes. Hands on your hips, you glare.

"You haven't even eaten! You could've taken like a twenty minute break to do that with me," you continue. "If not, you could just talk to me and give me an idea of what to expect, when you'll be wrapping up for the day or what you'll wanna do in the time you 'make for me.'"

He doesn't say anything. Just sits there on his knees looking at you in silence. Your temper boils more. It doesn't feel good blowing up at someone, even less when they refuse to give it back.

"I just don't understand why you even asked me to come. It's not like I'm not used to you being away for weeks at a time," you say.

"I thought that you understood that I'd still be working even if you were here too."

"I did! But... it's just annoying! It's annoying when you ask me to come with you and you make it sound like it's gonna be some luxury vacation when really it's days of me lazing around a stuffy hotel while you work yourself into the ground and then crash before we leave."

You'd done this before. The two of you met while he was on a case, and over the years, you accompanied him more than once. You were familiar with his routine.

He backs away even more, taking himself from the bed onto the floor so that he's level with you.

"I want you here with me, but the case I'm dealing with is important. It's time sensitive-" he starts.

But you've had enough with dancing around this issue.

"I understand you have an important job, you know, but it doesn't strip you of the ability to function like a normal human being."

It's quick and bitter, spoken with all the frustration you've repressed over years of dealing with his continuous absences. Regret chases its heels, but an apology never makes it past your lips.

You huff and cross your arms, so tempted to look away. But for once, he's the one who can't maintain eye contact. His gaze leaves you and drifts aimlessly from the computer to the floor.

"I never meant to make you feel like this... like a piece of luggage. I... I can see now I should've thought this through more," he says quietly.

You look away too. If you stared at him any longer, you'd end up remembering that he isn't evil.

"Whatever. Don't worry about it. Just focus on the case," you grumble.

You walk around the bed and grab your jacket that'd been draped over your bag before leaving the room.

Your foot bounces up and down as you sit on some cushy leather bench in the lobby.

This is worse than being stuck in the room. Now you're marooned down here under bright lights and overzealous air conditioning. There's nothing to do but sit and observe the other guests. Well... that and replay the argument in your head.

You already feel shitty about what you said to him, and it doesn't get any better the more you think about it.

Part of you still feels justified. He really wasn't "making time for you" as he claimed, and he should have stayed true to that commitment since it was the reason you agreed to go at all.

But... it doesn't strip you of your ability to function like a normal human being.

Your mind has yet to come up with a justification for that. Mainly because for the first time in your relationship you're realizing that maybe... his job really does strip him of that.

He spends all his time cracking into the minds of the world's most vicious, cruel people. Everyday he's inundated with photos of corpses and notes from killers. The time he could spend talking or cuddling with you instead goes to chasing down murderers.

Still, maybe it wasn't his job that made it so hard for him to connect. Maybe something or someone a long time ago altered him in a way that doesn't let him mesh with most people. Maybe this job is how he copes with the difference needed to do it well. You're not sure, but the details matter less the more you think about all this.

Whatever is haunting him, past or present, must make it hard to exist alongside you, someone who lives a relatively normal life.

The exact reason for his odd behavior doesn't matter as much when you consider that. You're not dating just anyone. Your boyfriend is the world's greatest detective. He is weird. He spends all of his time in dark rooms obsessing over serial killers as his life's work. He never wears shoes and flaunts that fact. He crouches in chairs all curled up instead of sitting. He holds phones like every time is the first time he's handling one.

But he's still your favorite human being on this earth. You wouldn't trade him for anyone, abysmal communication skills and all.

Guilt crashes into you so hard it registers as nausea. How could you be so cruel? Mentally replaying the argument now, all you can recall is how tired he looked and how weak he sounded.

You push yourself up off the bench and dash for the elevators. A family has just stepped into one. You make it inside right as the doors begin to slide shut. Your fingers jam the button for your floor.

The ride is painstakingly slow, but once you hear that little ding, you're rushing again. You zip down the hall, past your hotel room to the utility area with the vending machine. Your wallet was still sitting in the room with the rest of your stuff. Luckily, there are a few bills crammed in the pocket of your jacket.

You get as much as you can for what you have at that machine. Two candy bars, a bag of cookies, even a pack of spongecakes. They're off-brand, but you have bigger problems. You're sure he'll scarf them down regardless.

Once you've ensured you're not returning empty-handed, you make your way back to the room. You take a deep breath before using the key card in your pocket to unlock the door.

When you get it open, he's already standing right there on the other side. You jump, dropping the snacks you had in your arms.

He just stares. "I didn't expect you to come back yet," he says, his emotional state unreadable. "I was coming to find you."

"Oh... well, I'm here. I... I bought you some snacks," you offer and rub your arm.

He looks down at the scattered vending machine picks. "I can see that."

The both of you crouch down in unison to gather the sweets. He takes the sponge cakes and cookies while you pick up the stray candy bars. Your eyes meet as you rise again.

Silence sits heavy between the both of you. You're not sure what to say, if you should speak first or let him get payback on you instead. Neither happen though. Rather, he just steps aside to allow you back into the room.

Inside it seems darker than before. You're not sure if your guilt is making you biased or if somehow the mood had contaminated your shared surroundings as well.

The door clicks shut behind you. He walks past and puts the snacks down at the desk. You're still unsure of what to do. You'd never really had to apologize to him for something serious.

Before anything, you shrug your jacket off and leave your shoes by your suitcase. From there, you walk back to your side of the bed. You sit on the edge, where you had been before laying into him.

Internally you try to find the words you thought about downstairs. You want to do more than apologize. You want to reassure him too.

Your exact words quickly lose importance though. Before you get the chance to speak at all, he's on the bed crawling towards you. He hits your back with more force than last time. His arms wrap around you and press you to his chest. He buries his face in your neck.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles.

It only makes you feel worse.

"No, you don't have to apologize," you say quickly. "I'm not upset."

He squeezes you tighter, as if he doesn't believe it. "Don't lie to spare me. You can be upset. I know you didn't want to waste your time off cooped in a hotel room-"

"It's not a waste if it's with you," you say. You want to turn around to see him, but his grip on you is so tight.

A ragged breath hits your neck. "You shouldn't have to feel grateful for my presence," he says.

"No, it's not like that-" you try, but he keeps going.

"I don't mean to neglect you. I don't want you to feel alone. It's just... hard for me to do both."

"I know. Please stop apologizing." Finally, you break free enough to swivel around in his grasp. You cup one of his cheeks.

He leans into the touch, nuzzles your palm like a loving pet. You swipe your thumb across his cheek. Now with him in front of you and not holed away at the computer, you can see just how worn out he looks.

"I knew you'd be working, and I know you don't have a normal job or something. It requires more attention. I didn't mean to lash out. I just wish you'd talk to me. Communicate a little better, y'know?" you say softly.

"I want to give all my attention to you," he says. "I- I just..."

His head tilts forward and dark locks of shaggy black hair droop over his eyes. You brush them back out of his face. Your lips land on his forehead first, the tip of his nose second.

You'd never heard him struggle for words like this. Usually he was so articulate. His thoughts flowed from his lips like water from a faucet. You try to coax them out once again by dragging your fingers along his jawline.

"You don't have to be sorry, baby. You can just tell me," you whisper.

A deep, long-held sigh leaves him. "This case... all of them, really... they leave me empty. I feel like I have nothing left for you."

Your fingers dig into the flesh of his face. You lean in further so that your foreheads nearly touch. From this close, you can see his eyes are shinier than usual, brimming with stifled emotions.

"Then just tell me that," you say. "You don't have to give if you're empty. Let me give to you."

His eyes are locked on yours, and you can see that he wants to. He just doesn't know how.

Your hand slides down to curve around the base of his neck. "Let me take care of you," you mumble as you go in for a kiss.

His lips are pliant beneath your own. He lets you lead the kiss, simply responding to your actions. You massage the nape of his neck with careful fingers. With every passing second, you can feel him melting into your touch.

You scoot closer to him on the mattress. "Let me take some of the weight off for you, help you relax. You deserve that," you murmur.

The bedding dimples under your knee as you swing a leg over his lap. Your ass lands on his thighs. He's warm beneath you. His hands instantly settle on your waist. You can feel his need from the way they grab at you alone.

Your mouth stays on his. You swipe your tongue between his lips, tasting his spit. He's sweet like always. His tongue is soft. It glides against yours so perfectly.

He grunts into your kisses. His hands attempt to pull you impossibly closer. You reward his desperation with a roll of your hips on his lap.

Pulling back leaves his lips shimmering with your saliva. His face has more color in it than usual. You can't help feeling a little warm too. It's so cute how eager he gets over something so small.

"You're so pretty, baby. So sweet for me," you croon with a few more pecks across his face. "Just having you like this, all needy, makes it not a waste."

You know he's weak for this kind of stuff. For a soft tone and loving words. You run your fingers through his hair, watching as his eyes flutter.

"You're sweeter than me," he says weakly. "That's why I can never get enough of you."

A smile plays at your lips. You give his hair a gentle tug. "It's not a competition, dummy."

Your hands reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it upwards and exposing his torso to your eyes. You kiss down onto his neck. Your tongue glides over the muscular contours with familiar precision. You know exactly where to lick to make him shiver, where to suck to make him groan.

He goes for your shirt as well, but you grab his hands and nip at his collarbone. Your eyes flit up to his.

"Patience," you chide mockingly. "We're focusing on you right now."

"But isn't-"

"No talking back," you say. Your hands squeeze his waist before ushering him back flat onto the mattress.

He follows along without any resistance.

"Good boy," you say with a little smile.

It's so cliche, and he knows it. But you watch as his cheeks tinge pink anyways. You can feel him starting to fill out between your legs at the same time. It draws a small giggle from your lips as you lower your mouth to his chest again.

"You act so icy and quiet sometimes, but really, you're just stressed. Under all that tension, you're so so sensitive," you coo as your tongue swirls over the swell of his muscles.

You make a show of how pleased you are with his physique, humming in approval when your tongue grazes a nipple.

He grunts, more noticeably than he probably wants. The sound makes you grin.

You continue to tease the sensitive bud with the wet tip of your tongue. His hands flex against your side. Underneath your body, his chest rises and falls a little faster than before.

FInally, when you use some teeth, just gently scrapping his nipple with them, you get a whimper. The sound earns him a myriad of kisses across his chest.

"You're so cute," you praise while working your way back to his mouth.

He's so obviously flustered. His eyes dart away from your own. You bring them back with a firm grip on his chin.

"Let yourself enjoy it," you say with a small kiss. "You're supposed to be relaxing, remember?"

"Touching you would help me relax more than anything else," he says lowly.

He tests the waters by reaching for your shirt again. You let him touch the fabric this time before placing your hands over his own.

"So impatient," you tut.

Under your guidance, he lifts the fabric from your body. The slopes of your waist come into view along with the softness of your stomach. He drinks in your figure with a silent eagerness.

Your breasts fall free from your top next. They're so obviously what he'd been waiting for. His pupils are locked onto the pretty mounds. You can tell it takes every bit of the little restraint he has left to stop himself from reaching for them.

Before you allow it, you have to tease him a little. You move as sensually as you can while tossing away your shirt, highlighting the curves of your chest with a little arch in your back and roll of your shoulders.

"You... You're so pretty," he says softly.

He always makes you feel absolutely gorgeous when he gets like this. When he's so enraptured he can't manage more than the most simplistic of sentences.

A loving smile graces your features as your hand slides around his neck. Your fingers cup the soft skin beneath his feathery black locks and tug him upwards to you.

He knows just what to do. His face lands between your tits, each of his hands coming up on either side to cup them closer. He nuzzles into the softness. You can feel his lips and tongue leaving kisses and sucking on your skin.

"You're so easy," you say with a little laugh. "Just one look at my tits and your brain starts to melt."

Your fingers comb through the hair at the base of his skull, eliciting a nice groan out of him. The sound rumbles against your skin, and a little chill runs over you. Your fingers don't stop. You keep petting him, encouraging his attention on you.

For the first time in a while, he actually does seem relaxed. His shoulders have loosened, his eyes have closed. He doesn't appear to be worried about anything other than keeping himself smothered by the warmth of your breasts.

"My good boy... Lay back again for me, baby," you say gently as you guide him towards the mattress once again.

He follows your instruction, leaning backwards. You follow him down. Your hands keep him close the entire time. He doesn't have to pull back from your chest for a second. You let him grope at them, squeezing and pawing, while his mouth moves to your nipples.

A soft moan leaves you when he wraps his lips around one and sucks. His tongue flicks against the bud. You grind your hips down on him in response.

"Fuck," he hisses around the tit in his mouth.

You grin and go for it again. He's rock solid now, his cock nice and hard between your thighs. You can feel the shape against you as you begin to settle into a rhythm.

His lashes flutter at the sensation. The constant friction between the both of you is tortorous. Pleasurable yet nowhere close to satisfying. He whimpers at your breast, and you give his hair a little tug.

"My sweet baby," you croon while working your clothed cunt over his erection. "This is just what you needed, hm? I really need to teach you how to be better at asking."

Your hips roll your hips a few more times before sitting upright on top of him. Of course, he's quick to protest, quite upset about having you taken from his mouth. Your two hands planted firmly on his chest stop him from sitting up.

"Shh, shh, shh, you heard me. Tell me what you want, honey," you say. "Do you want my hand..." Your fingers tweak a nipple. "or my mouth..." You lave your tongue over the column of his throat. "or my pussy?" Your hips grind on him again.

His hands fly to your hips. He's already nodding before you can even finish the last word, wide eyes staring up at you.

"Want your pussy," he agrees.

"Yeah? How bad?" you ask as you begin the task of removing your bottoms.

"So bad. You know I do," he says and relaxes beneath your palms. "I need it. All warm and wet on me. So soft and... you. I've never had anything as good as you."

As he sings your praises, you get yourself bare and then remove his pants too. He whines the second you wrap your fingers around his dick. His hips twitch shamelessly, the urge to fuck into your fist clear in even the smallest of movements.

You pump your hand up and down a few times, just until you see a couple pearly beads of pre ooze from his tip. Grateful moans fill the air. He's flushed so red from shaft to head. Veins bulge prominently along his length. It throbs within your grasp as you climb on top of him.

"Are you ready, baby?" you ask with a mocking smile.

You don't wait for the obvious nod that follows to sink down onto him. Something between a groan and a whimper leaves him. He tilts his head back against the mattress, muscles in his neck flexing.

For a moment, you just sit there, ass against his thighs while full of him. You take in the familiar stretch.

"You're so good for me, feel so fucking good," you purr while beginning with a few faint swivels of your hips.

His breaths hitch. The small circles don't provide any real pleasure, they only tease the possibility. It drives him crazy, but by now he knows better than to just take what he wants without asking.

You grin. Your nails run along the smooth expanse of his chest, beckoning his skin to pebble with chills. All the while your pelvis never stops moving in those tiny, counter-clockwise rotations.

He whimpers and helplessly boosts his hips towards you again, a pathetic attempt at thrusting.

“Please.” The word falls from his lips without any coaxing from you this time. His hands grip at your thighs, squeezing with all the desperation he feels. “Please, baby. Move a little more.”

He’s hoarse, as if he’d just completed some strenuous workout. His chest is rising and falling like it too, up and down, heart pounding beneath your palm.

“Hold onto me, ellie. Help me move just how you like,” you say.

And with your permission, the movements come instantly. He grabs onto your waist and lifts you a few inches before dropping you back down. It’s a struggle for him to not move rapidly like you’re some kind of living toy. He tries to pace himself, bouncing you quickly but still with some restraint.

Some soft moans drift from your lips. You let your head fall back while he takes over for a moment. Your skin claps against his at the site of your connection.

Every passing second, his grip on you grows tighter. He pulls you impossibly closer while his hips continue snapping into you. Sometimes it still strikes you how strong he is, how voracious he can be. For someone who sat curled up at a desk for such long periods of time, he could move his body like an athlete when he wanted to.

You yelp in pleasure at a particularly sharp slam of your hips on his. The tip of his cock strikes that special spot inside you that makes your vision go hazy. He hammers into it over and over, not wasting the angle.

Your head pops back up to look down at him. You find him much closer than before. His eyes stare at you only inches away, heavy-lidded with lust. That pretty black hair gradually has gradually become damp with sweat. He’s breathing hard. His arms never stop rocking you up and down on his length. He’s all consumed by the bliss of you, and it only serves to draw you in with him.

Your arm loops around his neck. You begin to bounce yourself on his cock, following the pace he’d set. Your free hand cups his cheek. The pad of your thumb grazes along the flushed curve of it.

“Pretty boy,” you mumble while going in for a kiss. “My sweet, pretty boy.”

He groans into your mouth, grateful for both the words and connection. His breaths fan your face, hot and needy. You’re sure you’re being loud, and if he wasn’t such a consistent, high-paying customer at this chain of hotels, you might worry about a noise complaint.

Instead, you nuzzle your nose against his. “Are you getting close?” you whisper.

“Mhm- But I- I don’t wanna stop,” he chokes out.

He’s really far gone, nearly pleading for you like this. You run your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t worry, we don’t have to,” you coo. “Just let yourself cum, baby. Let yourself feel good.”

He moans, muscles going slack for a second before a burst of energy overtakes him. He surges forward and pushes you flat onto your back on the bed. In the new position, he has all the leverage. He fucks into you hard, hips pistoning into you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do.

His head falls into the crook of your neck for a moment before some sloppy kisses trail downward. He’s back at your breasts, lazily mouthing at them while working himself to the finish line.

Your back arches towards him, and you whine. Your own release is right around the corner. His fingers dig into your plush skin at your waist. You can feel his movements losing rhythm, becoming more erratic, and then finally, his mouth goes slack at your tit.

He groans deeply, a noise that barely sounds human. His muscles spasm. He twitches and bucks against you, holding on while his senses take control from his brain.

You hit your high just as you feel the hot ropes of his cum flooding your insides. The pleasure washes over you. It melts everything away but you and him.

Despite his earlier pleas, his body comes to a halt when the pleasure starts to fade. He rolls off of you, sprawling across the mattress totally limp. You lazily look over at him.

His lashes kiss his cheeks as he lays there, energy sapped from his body. You roll over and crawl to him.

“You still with me? Or am I gonna have to perform some mouth to mouth?” you tease with a few kisses along his cheek.

He hums. His arm loops around your waist and pulls you close.

“I’m still here.” His fingertips caress your side gently. “Just much more relaxed, like you wanted.”

You laugh a little and ruffle his hair. “Good. Now if you wanna go back to working, I promise I won’t bother you.”

His eyes flutter open and land on you. They’re soft, soft as the skin of his fingers that come to stroke your cheek.

“Maybe I like when you bother me,” he says simply.

"Sure," you say with a little smile. You look away in an attempt to hide how something so simple could get you. You're sure he knows anyway though.

His grip around you stays tight. Even if you look away, he won't let you go anywhere. He nestles his face against your neck and leaves a few kisses there.

"We can just stay right here for a little while. Work can wait till then," he mumbles.

You don't think you've ever heard him say that before, but you're not going to complain.

"Mkay. I'll be right here. Till then," you whisper with a careful kiss to his forehead.