Whee, sometimes I can actually write fic! :DDD

[tallulahgs]

Not only can I sometimes write fic, I can also fill in a feedback form to Virgin Media elaborating on just why my broadband experience with them was not super-special awesome. Life is GOOD!

[Title] In the Shadows
[Rating] R, possibly NC-17. It's sex. I don't know.
[Pairing] Raito/Ide
[Warnings] AU, kind of rough mind-game-y sex
[Word Count] 3,954 (... argh)
[A/N] I had sudden inspiration this morning, so haven't had a chance to leave this for a long time before going back over it. Written for dn_contest, prompt "pornography"; I'm beginning to realise I'm weak for Raito/Ide, and so this seemed the perfect excuse >_>



There's a clock, but no calendar. That is, there's no calendar in this room. Technically, there's nothing stopping Ide venturing out of it and down the corridor to try and find out the day. Except that that's not the right way of putting it. He has not yet tried venturing out of here, to find out the day or for any other reason. He knows perfectly well why this is.

But there's a clock - a small white face set in a chunk of black marble - and if it's showing the right time, which it easily might not be, Ide wouldn't put it past Raito to try that sort of petty oneupmanship, but assuming it's correct, which he has to, it's nearly five p.m., and Raito's always punctual.

(He has sometimes wondered why this is, why Raito always visits at the same time if he's visiting at all; why wouldn't you want to knock someone off-balance by varying it? But then he thinks about it and he realises why would Raito care about knocking him off-balance? He's not important. He never has been.)

Outside the sky is flat and grey and darkening at the edges. It's always night by the time Raito leaves, which means that Ide doesn't notice darkness actually falling. Once again, he isn't sure if Raito's trying to do him a favour or not.

And there are the footsteps.

It isn't as if there isn't time to prepare, to put on the face he'd like Raito to see. He could stand up, pace a little; or pretend to be reading a book, or stare out of the window. He rarely does, though. He just stays sitting on the bed, listening to the footsteps get closer, waiting until the door handle rattles, trying not to hear whether there's the sound of a key turning first. He's never been particularly good at faking emotion. Keeping a blank, polite face on, sure, but not manifesting joy or concern when he doesn't feel it. Perhaps he just doesn't want Raito to pity him for his attempts at keeping up a facade.

"Good evening."

He doesn't look up. From the sound of it, though, Raito is as unperturbed as always; the door closes, gently, and there's a smile in his voice as he says, "You can put the lights on if you want, you know. We're not on that much of a budget."

"It's not that dark."

"If you say so," Raito says, humouring as if this is some joke between the two of them. "But I don't want you to feel that you can't make yourself comfortable here. You're a guest, after all. Please tell me you weren't trying to read in this light."

Ide wants to snap I'm not that stupid or don't patronise me or... something. Of course, he doesn't. Raito is standing right by him now, studying the books on the bedside table. Picking them up to see the titles. "Hasn't this one been here for quite a long time now? Still, I know I found it quite slow going."

Ide shrugs. He used to be the kind of person who would choose a book to read, read it, finish it, and move on. Or decide halfway through that it wasn't worth his time and get rid of it. Now he picks novels up and puts them down again and forgets what happened in the last chapter or which character is which. Once that would have bothered him. Now it's a good thing; it simulates the confusion and chaos of a reality, of other people. Being unable to remember who so-and-so is or why they care so much about some particular issue or if they used to live in America or whether that was someone in another book. It's also a good thing because Ide is willing to bet that Raito's read every book on these shelves - why would he give Ide anything he himself doesn't know about, doesn't have an opinion on, why would he allow that advantage? - and the thought of being drawn into a conversation about them makes him feel sick. Reading has never been something that he talks about and it scares the hell out of him that if Raito decides this will no longer be the case, that Ide will talk about it, then that is what will happen.

"Ide."

He looks up. But Raito only smiles at him, warmly, and says, "Is there anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable?" He always asks this, or something like it. Sometimes he says while you're here. Ide wants to kill him when he says it that way, the veiled implication that at some point, sooner or later, Ide won't be here. Ide will have moved on. The small talk rarely involves any information about what's happening in the real world. There's never any pressure to make any comment about Kira, to take any ideological stance. Which means that Raito either thinks that Ide is already on the side that Raito wants (which to all intents and purposes is true, if you look at things objectively, if you look at the actions performed, if you look at who's still alive) or that Raito just doesn't care because Ide isn't going to be playing any sort of role outside this room, sooner or later he'll -

"No."

"Good."

A short silence, as if Raito is clarifying to himself that all social niceties have been satisfied. Ide finds himself digging his nails into his palms and that's stupid, Raito will see, but in a few seconds Raito will see anyway -

Raito is turning away now, "Well, I'd better be going -"

Ide always tries so hard not to say wait or don't go or please. This time he says, "No. Just..." Raito always stops, turns back. He just needs to hear Ide say something, doesn't he.

"Is there something else you want?" he says.

Ide is already standing up - this part is easier, there is no point in trying to pretend, no point in trying to convince Raito he's not going to do it - and is right next to Raito, is clutching his shoulders, fingers tangling in Raito's pristine, expensive suit, is forcing a kiss into Raito's mouth and yearning to feel Raito tense and close-mouthed and angry against him, but Raito isn't, is he, instead his own mouth is falling open, warm and wet and amused under Ide's and his hands, lazy, are caressing Ide's back, pulling the two of them closer -

And then Ide has to break the kiss, hating this part, hating that as he pulls away and opens his eyes he can see Raito smiling and it's no longer the smile of Chief Yagami's personable, pleasant son, it -

The room is almost completely full of shadow now. There's only a faint white glow from the last of the light on the horizon.

Raito is leaning forward now, whispering into Ide's ear, "You can ask for it earlier, if you want." Soft words turn into soft kisses along Ide's jaw, throat, Raito's tongue on his skin, "I know how desperate you always are -" And Ide has grabbed at him, fingers catching his hair, and is kissing his mouth again, teeth and blood and tongue and it's always like this, Raito points out how needy Ide is and then Ide proves him right by doing something like this but he can't listen, he can't -

They're falling back onto the bed now; Raito's on top of him, smelling of cologne and clean showers, letting himself be kissed and every so often turning his head away to kiss or lick at Ide's throat, as if he's bored and trying to vary the monotony. Well, perhaps he is; he's so calm and careful and - humouring me - the only thing which suggests there might be something in this for him is that he's hard already and absently - absently - pressing it close, rubbing up against Ide and it's that, it's usually something like that which brings it all home, what he's doing, where he is -

(I know you're Kira, he'd said, sounding resentful, sounding like an angry child, and Raito had stared at him coldly and said Is there a point to this, or are you just going to reiterate Near's arguments?)

He shoves Raito away from him, his hands shaking so much that it must be obvious even in the dusk.

(Yes, there's a damn point to it, all right? I've had it with this. Did you know Aizawa thinks we could all die before the week's out? I - I don't - I don't want - )

For a moment Raito is still. Then he's moving again, body coming down across Ide's, one hand tangled in Ide's hair, yanking his head back. Not wrenching hard enough for it to really hurt. Just enough that it's uncomfortable. That you wouldn't choose it.

"Do we have to do this every time?" he says - not frustrated, just appealing to reason. "You know perfectly well what you want, Ide. I wish you'd admit it to yourself."

(You don't want to die? Raito says. I would imagine the others share your views. I know I do. What exactly is the point you're making here? Are you walking out on us?)

"Fuck you." Ide hears his voice bounce off the walls; he sounds tired, out of breath already. "You like -"

"Ssh," and Raito is kissing him again, holding Ide's head still, taking his time. "I'm really not that interested." And a little later, "You've said it all before."

Ide wants to kick out, to bite, to shove Raito away again, but it's true, he has said it all before, the first time he was shouting and he was so angry he hardly noticed being turned on, it was just about hurting and Raito hissed with pain and clung onto him and had bruises on his neck that stuck around for two weeks and why did he think of that now, why, the thought of shoving Raito back, down onto the bed, and pinning him down and fucking his brains out until Raito begs for it to stop it's all pulsing through him, hot and dark and he's arching up against Raito, desperate to burn some of this off, and Raito, laughing, is pulling away a little, and whispering, "Why do you hate me? I did exactly what you wanted."

(I'm done. I'm done with all this, there's - there's no way - L couldn't pull it off and he just wanted to stick us in the firing line, and Near's no different, and - If you're Kira, I'm telling you I want no more part in this, and if you're not, then it doesn't matter, does it?)

"You're a murdering psychotic bastard!"

He knew Raito wouldn't let him get away with that and Raito doesn't, Raito studies him for a second and then leans forward, his free arm coming down across Ide's throat, all his weight on it, and Ide chokes and struggles for breath underneath him and he feels Raito trembling, feels his arousal growing, and that proves it at least, that proves that Ide is right and Raito's a sadistic psychopath - but then - why -

"I don't think you really believe that," Raito murmurs at last, and shifts a little so that the pressure on Ide's throat isn't so great. Ide gulps and gasps for breath and Raito, laughing, kisses him again and then continues, "If you did, why would you have stood back and done nothing when my new world was built? And don't start throwing insults again. We both know perfectly well what your choice was."

(Raito had just looked at him, eyes narrowed, and said All right. Your views are noted. I assume that if we all survive the events of 28th January, you will no longer be a participating member of this task force. And then, I thought better of you. Ide had assumed at the time that this would be the most unworthy moment of his life to date, because he had forgotten that fate has a sense of humour and loves undercutting perceptions like that.)

This is why he always pushes Raito away, because he knows that it'll only end up like this, with Raito stating the facts - and he could fight back even now, he could wrench at Raito's clothes, stop letting Raito dictate the pace, leave Raito bruised and off-balance and resentful but he knows perfectly well that if he pisses off Raito too much, if he crosses one of the lines that must be surrounding him all the time and especially in the dark, then Raito will kill him and then it will all have been for nothing -

Raito shifts, now, sitting back on his heels, looking down at Ide. Night's fallen and it doesn't matter if Ide keeps his eyes open or not; he closes them, blocks out the streetlight shining in Raito's hair and smeared across the wall.

"That's right," Raito says, calmly; his fingers, warm, soft, are methodically undressing Ide now - no wrenching, no tearing or ripping off of buttons. Ide lies still, digs his fingers into the sheets - partly through frustration because Raito is so slow and partly because if he doesn't he'll have to do something else with his hands and that something else will probably be trying to choke the life out of Raito and he can't, this is when he knows for sure it's not a battle, it's not competition, it's just Raito watching him amusedly and letting him rage a little before getting bored.

Sometimes, if Raito feels charitable - if Ide's given up early, or hasn't left too many marks, or said please at some point in the proceedings - he'll suck him off, tongue carefully placed, hair brushing Ide's thighs, and Ide can keep his eyes closed and Raito, of course, doesn't talk and it's almost just sex and nothing else. Later Ide will remember his own gasps and moans and try not to think that Kira made him sound like that, but that doesn't happen until after Raito's gone and he's trying to fall asleep.

Sometimes it's obvious that Raito's bored - if they've been relatively civil to each other, or not talked at all, or held back on the worst things they could have said - and then he'll just use his hands. Sometimes he'll delay until Ide reciprocates, sometimes not. It doesn't really matter; they've come too far by then. It's never as intense but for some reason it knocks Ide out afterwards, he falls deeply asleep in the darkness and doesn't dream, is just nothing until the sun blazing across the wall wakes him the next day.

The murdering psychotic bastard line has probably eliminated both of those possibilities tonight.

"Did Aizawa know you enjoy this sort of thing?"

Ide breathes out, slowly, and suddenly he's sick of it, sick of being turned on and of wanting. He just wants none of this to matter, he wants to be asleep, he wants to stop caring about anything.

"I know you might like to think that it's simply a byproduct of the stress you've been under, but I'm not sure that sexuality works that way." Rustles, the sound of unzipping as Raito takes off the necessary amount of clothing. "It just interests me, that's all. You two were so close." The bed creaks a little as Raito leans over; Ide doesn't have to open his eyes to know he's reaching to the bedside table. "Actually, that's a very presumptuous thing to say, isn't it? I don't know how you perceived him at all. And certainly I didn't expect you to switch your loyalties from him to me, so perhaps..."

Ide wants to speak, just to say go to hell or none of your business or something else rude but he can't, if he opens his mouth Raito will hear that he's thinking, that he's remembering the floor was damp, patches of water, Aizawa was half-lying in one, it was soaking his hair and coat and he wasn't shivering he was just still he was just still and watching and it was only Raito and Mikami and Ide and that damn fan sobbing away up above them

"Ssh. It's all right." Raito has put a hand on his shoulder, is easing him over onto his side, and he's going with it, he's not even pretending he's being coerced because he can't keep listening to this, he can't. "What could you have done? We both know how stubborn he was. He would never have chosen Kira. He would never have seen sense like you did."

Ide would beg now, would snarl just get on with it, just fuck me, I'm sure you've got better things to do now you're ruling the world and all, just to make this end, just so he could come and pretend that's all it was about. But he knows that whatever he intends to say, when he actually speaks it will either be something like I'm so sorry or it will be hatred, it will be trying to hit whatever weak spot of Raito's he can find, it will be something about the Chief. Last time he mentioned the Chief, things degenerated into unpleasantness very quickly and Ide spent the next week trying not to swallow too hard and aching every time he sat down. And this is all because he wanted to live, so what's the point of making your hard-won life more uncomfortable than it already is? What's the point of behaving as though Raito's the only traitor?

Raito is sliding a finger into him now, kissing at the back of his neck, breath soft on his hair, and he gasps and the questions and the thoughts are lost, slipping away into the dark again. He's arching a little, half-twisting round, his mouth trying to find Raito's, one hand automatically reaching to touch himself. Sometimes Raito grabs his wrist and stops him but he seems to be in a good mood right now because he lets Ide carry on, only whispering, "Don't rush yourself," and then, "You're ready? You want it?" and Ide can speak again now, he can hiss yes and Raito laughs, kisses him and then he's gently easing himself in, still careful, still methodical, and if Ide actually wanted to be reminded of who this is he'd ask were you born naturally good at this as well, or have you been practising?

His hands are shaking as he jerks himself off and it's irregular, awkward, not matching Raito's rhythmic strokes; it's almost superfluous, which is no doubt what Raito wanted him to think. Won't be long now. He's touching himself faster, he wants this over with, he wants, he needs -

Raito shudders against him, breath catching, tickling the back of his neck, and perhaps it's that, hearing the bastard sound just like anyone else, that pushes Ide over the edge, maybe he's just doing all of this to remind himself how very human Raito is, and it rushes through him and he's moaning oh god, oh god -

And then it's over, and he's lying against Raito, who's pulled out now and feels soft and warm and safe, like he is comforting Ide, like he knows exactly how shit everything is and cares even though he can't help, and that's a fucked-up thing even to think and this is why Ide hates it when Raito screws him because it's good, it's right, it's everything that Kira isn't and he wants to be still hating, to shove Raito away again, to sit up and get dressed or go into the bathroom, but he doesn't, he's lying still letting Raito stroke down his spine and kiss a little at his neck, at the bruises, and murmur things like was that okay? as if he's doubtful about his abilities.

He's lying still with Raito and he feels like this is all he ever wanted.

Things have to be very bad for them not to part on civil terms. Eventually Raito will stand up, pat Ide on the shoulder and then put his clothes back on. There's usually some pleasantries, some sleep well or don't read in the dark. Ide stays still and quiet and waits until the door has closed behind Raito and the footsteps have faded away and sometimes he can wait quite a long time before the self-disgust kicks in. It feels like an elevator cable snapping, like suddenly he's plunging down into such fury and loathing that it's almost not a feeling at all, it's just there like the cool air on his skin.

He gets up, then, goes into the bathroom, showers; burns Raito off his skin with scalding or icy water. He finds his throat aching as words, or curses, or cries, turn around and around and try and climb out but he won't make a sound, he won't, Raito's got to have the room bugged and there's no way he's going to know just how bad things get, afterwards.

Then he puts some clothes on and sits by the window and watches the distant specks of headlights and buildings and listens for faint strains of music or voices. He doesn't do that for too long, because it's then that he thinks this is my life, this is my life now; watching the city through a window that only opens an inch and being fucked by the most prolific serial killer the world has ever known.

What he didn't say to Raito, then, that last time before January 28th, was let's make a deal. I'll quit fighting you, and you'll let me live. Similarly, what Raito didn't say to him was All right. I'll give you your life, and then you can hand it back to me anyway.

Comments

[dapperzombie.livejournal.com]

Oooh - I'm mad at Light, yes, but most of my anger goes right towards Ide! How could he have just given up like that, and how does he manage to wake up each morning? Even though he doesn't really go anywhere, or maybe because he doesn't go anywhere. You really made him disgusting and easy to hate, because I'm a firm believer in death before dishonor, you know?

You really got me into the story, so great job as usual :D

[tallulahgs]

(Took me ages to reply to this because I didn't want to open R-rated fanfic on institutional computers ^^ It was nothing to do with me being offended at the slight to Ide.)

*pats Ide* I am pleased that I got you into the story and, I guess, made the portrayal of him consistent! I personally suspect I'm more dishonour before death when it comes down to it so I guess that's why it happened, but thanks for reading and commenting!