Title: The End and the Beginning
Author: Juxian Tang
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light/Mikami Teru
Warning: AU, dark
Summary: And alternative variant of events where Near has lost and Light has won
The fic is based *only* on Death Note anime and doesn't take into account some things that are canon for the manga
THE END AND THE BEGINNING
Moments fall like grains of sand in an hourglass, one after another, into an endless abyss. The pressure of steel handcuffs on his wrists, stone of the floor under his knees - this is how defeat feels, Teru knows it now. And his god, alone against everyone else, cornered, desperate - fallen through Teru's fault - is still trying to talk out his way.
"Is it the trap you prepared for me, Near? I don't know this guy, I don't know why he didn't write my name - maybe because those were instructions you gave him? Why do you hate me so much?"
His voice rises almost in hysterics and then - like in a slow motion Teru sees many things at the same time: sees one of the cops grasping his throat, wheezing; sees a blinding smile of triumph on his god's pale face; sees panic in the eyes of the others - and Near looks wistful for several seconds before collapsing silently over his lap, like a child fallen asleep, dropping wooden figurines onto the floor. Someone - the woman, perhaps - grabs her gun, shoots - no, no, she might kill the god! Deafening sounds rip Teru's eardrums. All around him people fall, crumbling like sandcastles washed off by a wave.
And when the air clears - Teru raises his tearing eyes - his god stands over him, looking down at him calmly and coldly, a piece of paper covered in small letters red like dry blood in his fingers.
Oh yes, it's just the way it should have been. His god couldn't lose - even though Teru let him down, endangered his victory. Teru's heart contracts painfully, he doesn't know what he wants more: to beg for forgiveness (but can he even be forgiven?), or to wait for his punishment - let him stay as another corpse on the floor here… or to sprawl at the god's feet worshipping him as he deserves.
Yagami Light takes the choice away from him saying:
"Mikami. Rise." And Teru lifts his cuffed hands to him, and Light jerks him up onto his feet by the chain.
Their bodies come into a contact for a moment, in the proximity Teru has never dreamed of - and even through their clothes he feels that Light's closeness sends a jolt of electricity through him - leaving him trembling, lonely and desiring to experience it once more. He, who always thought that sexual needs are overrated, is ready to give everything he has for a few more moments of this intimacy.
"Kami," his lips whisper.
And Light smiles to him - with a triumphant, haughty, cruel, beautiful smile - freeing his hands from the handcuffs.
"I've won," Light says. His fingers, cool and quick, slide over Teru's face, along his cheekbone, and Teru barely can keep from moaning, so insufficient for him this feathery touch is.
Then Light takes off Teru's spectacles - and lets them fall - and Teru hears a sound of breaking glass under Light's heel, but he can't care less - because his god pulls his head closer and touches his lips. Light's kiss is refreshing like a draught of well water on a hot day - but it also dries up because it wakes up a thirst that no one but Light can quench.
"Poor Misa," Ryuk says somewhere in the shadows, "falling in love with a pervert. She should've asked herself why her skimpy clothes never worked on you."
"Ryuk," Light repeats patiently, even gently. "I've won."
And his hands follow the lines of Teru's body - shoulders, ribs, sides, buttocks - and Teru shivers under these touches but he knows that his excitement pleases Light.
"Come with me," Light says and adds. "We're going to your place."
In the glove compartment of the car Teru finds another pair of spectacles - old ones, those he hasn't worn for a long while. They are not strong enough for him but he doesn't care. Light sits next to him, his fingers going through the pages of death notes on his lap so tenderly that Teru thinks he would give everything for these fingers to touch his skin with the same tenderness. By the time they arrive his eyes tear from bad glasses.
They go up to his apartment and he is glad he keeps it immaculately clean for his god to see it. Yagami Light grabs an apple from the plate on the table and tosses it to Ryuk.
"Here you are. Distract yourself for a while."
"Like I would care to watch," Ryuk says but doesn't even bother to turn away.
Teru has never thought he would be able to do it with shinigami watching. But Light doesn't seem to be bothered by Ryuk's presence at all; he undresses as if relishing his absolute lack of shame in front of shinigami.
Light's body is perfect - like only Greek statues are perfect - but better, because Teru's tentative fingers can sense the warmth of his skin. He also tries to abandon his shame, discarding his clothes - he only flinches a little and tells himself it is because of the cold seeping through the windows. He makes himself straighten, stand proudly, letting Light see him - and his cock, painfully hard, is standing between his thighs just like Light's cock does. Light's palms wander over his body, over the muscles of his abdomen, his biceps; his mouth curves in an approving smile:
"Going to the gym really does you good."
"Kami," Teru whispers, ready to kneel - to worship Light with his mouth.
"Not like that." Light stops him and leads him to the bed. Somewhere behind them Ryuk snorts derisively.
Light takes him - first on his hands and knees - Teru sees a vague reflection of their joined bodies in the dark screen of the TV set. His hands clasp the bed-sheet when the pain grows from sharp discomfort to something nearly unbearable. But when his god is inside him - Teru has never felt fuller in his life - when Light's cock starts sliding in and out of him - the pain abates, mutating into something different - something that his erect, leaking with pre-come cock already expects.
When sliding becomes very easy, Light turns him - and now they are face to face. Teru clenches his legs around Light's ribcage tightly. Light's body glistens with sweat, a thin film of moisture on his fine-moulded muscles and smooth skin. It is the most beautiful sight Teru has seen in his life. He pants, tosses his head back, arches towards Light, and Light's cock, hitting his prostate, seems to burst something in him with every friction, every push like a small explosion of pleasure. Light's fingers squeeze his nipples mercilessly, twisting them, and Teru cries out in pain and delight. And when Light only twice runs his palm over Teru's cock, Teru comes, spattering his stomach and chest with his come. Light smiles slightly looking down at him.
Teru would give anything to see the face of his god like that, tilted down to him, for many, many times more.
Later they lie in bed, and he whispers, pressing Light's thin fingers to his cheek:
"Stay for the night."
"And Misa at the hotel is waiting and bored," Ryuk says scathingly.
Light allows Teru to kiss his fingers.
"They paid for a hotel grand enough for her not to be bored," he answers Ryuk and says looking at Teru. "I'll stay."
It is then when it comes to Teru's mind that since they've won, they should celebrate it, and he tells Light about it, and Light agrees. Teru opens a bottle of wine - of a very expensive wine, he didn't even know why he bought it, or didn't know before, because now he knows - he always believed there would be a day when he and his god would rejoice their victory together.
They drink right from the bottle, and the bottleneck is warm and slightly moist from Light's lips, and Teru can't resist, makes another sip just to feel it. And he already forgets to feel embarrassed walking naked around the flat, even though he keeps feeling shinigami's amused gaze on himself.
They laugh, and fool around in bed - the bottle is nearly empty - and discuss the details of today, and plan for their future. It's dark behind the window but the light of street-lamps penetrates the room. Teru's vision is hazed, from wine or because he can't find his glasses - but his fingers can see much better, with intensity of a burn feeling their touch to Light's thigh.
"Seven o'clock," Light says, "let's see some news."
And while Teru gropes for the remote control of the TV, he brings one of death notes from the table, turning its pages.
"Time to build another fragment of the new world," he says.
At first Teru thinks Light wants to hear if there is anything about seven corpses. But they probably haven't found them yet, so, it's just news as usual. Voices of the anchors blend into quiet murmur on the brink of Teru's consciousness. Photos of criminals - names, faces. He has never seen his god writing in the note before - he can't miss such a sight.
But Light pushes him gently to stay on his back and lies down across the bed, propped on his elbows. Teru starts a little feeling the cool cover of the open note on his stomach but then relaxes. Light looks at the screen and writes.
Teru doesn't know who his god sentences to death today - but today he doesn't care. Later it will be important again, they will talk, and Teru hopes he will be able to convince Light that there are much more people in this world who don't deserve to live than Light thinks. But now he just revels in Light's face in the flicker of the TV screen. The hand of his god glides over the paper, imprinting clear lines of kanji. And Teru automatically, habitually whispers in synch with the names appearing in the note:
Light raises his eyes for a moment, looks at him questioningly, then smiles and passes the end of the pen over Teru's lips.
Teru feels the warmth from Light's elbows pressing to his side, he feels the weight of the note on his stomach, feels his cock harden again (and waiting for release seems as good for him as release itself) - when his heart suddenly misses a beat, as if covered with a huge paw that pushes its claws in.
He still lives, still tries to breathe, his lips try to form the words - either "kami" or "why" - but the pain has already made him mute, already taken away his ability to move - and very soon, Teru knows, will take his life itself.
Light touches his chest with his palm - where his collapsing heart burns with pain.
"*Everyone* who knows about the note must die," he says.
And the last thing Teru sees with his dimming stare is not the shining face of his god but a sarcastic mouth and round eyes of shinigami leaning over him.