Want it. Take it. Love it. Keep it.

CHAPTER 3
FIRST KISS...NO, SERIOUSLY.

The sun was threatening to come up, the first rays of light peeking over the horizon. The detective however, was just diving into a good case. The details had been faxed to his office hours ago, yet he had instead decided to finish the novel he had received as a gift from Roger. The caretaker had said that L looked like he needed to relax a bit. It was an odd statement, considering the content of the book. Either that, or it showed just how much Roger knew about the boy, that he thought gory, supernatural crime thrillers were a helpful way to put the insomniac genius to sleep. One of them was most certainly a touch morbid and disturbed. L decided, about halfway through the novel, that this description fit the older man perfectly, since he had stated that he'd found this one interesting enough to enjoy a second time.

On a side note, Watari had gifted him with a set of new pens, another set of his usual outfit (like every year) and a new suit jacket. In case he felt the need to, quote, 'dress like an adult some day'. L had reminded Watari of his going-out clothes, both sharing a laugh.

He was just about to send a message that he would take the case, the door handle was jiggling from across the room. Locking the door would keep out Watari and Roger from interrupting (though both probably had a key, they knew better than to disturb him) but that could not stop the delinquent on the other side from breaking in.

"Thirty nine seconds." L commented without looking up when he heard the door swing open. "It would not be wise for Mello to mention that I was the one that taught him that particular skill."

The blond giggled, bounding into the room and flopping into the chair across from the desk. He sat in it sideways, one armrest for his thin legs, the other to lay his head upon. He'd switched the leather for his usual attire and L couldn't help but feel that he looked all the more beautiful because of it.
"Actually, I just picked the lock to Roger's office and stole his keyring. He's asleep at his desk. Possibly inebriated. I took a sip from his 'water'. That shit burns. We must really stress him out." The blond giggled, then began babbling about something he and his redheaded accomplice had done the previous day. L knew well enough to notice the obvious signs. Mello had had more than just a sip.

"Yours and Roger's systems are very different. You are also not of legal age. How big of a 'sip' did you have?"

"We're celebrating!" The blond giggled.

"It is neither Halloween nor my birthday anymore."

"There's a celebration today and tomorrow in Mexico."

"Correct, though I must remind you that we are not in Mexico. We are in England. Now why are you out of bed at this hour?" Again there was that sudden change of emotion. Perhaps the boy really was not as affected as he had seemed at first glance. It occured to L that perhaps the younger was trying to mask something else by overcompensating. His features looked even more cherubic as they melted into the stone serious expression he now wore. Mello could be very proud when it came to weaknesses (as they both seemed to consider them) like sadness and insecurity. But being as young as he was, it was very difficult for him to hide them like an adult might in the same situation.

"I couldn't sleep." The boys blue eyes seemed to lighten some, welling up with unshed tears. "I seriously overstepped boundaries today. I know better. I just wanted us to have something..."

"Special." L finished. "You did nothing wrong. I overreacted. I know my secret is safe with you. That is why I told you. Near does not even know. Only you, Watari, and myself." He loved the way the boy's eyes lit up at this revelation.
Truth be told, L thought /he/ was the one who was overstepping boundaries. If just a thought was a crime, like the Catholic religion Mello followed thought it was, then the sudden desire to kiss the tears away was surely damning. The detective shook his head to clear away such foolish thoughts. First off, he did not follow a religion. And second, he found no reason to believe there was anything wrong with wanting the comfort of another human being. Especially one you cared about. Nevermind their gender. Damning a person solely on their sexual preference was just ridiculous. That's all there was to it. Case closed.

"Near never does anything wrong. I hate it. I hate him!" Mello sighed, "But I can't help myself. I just do the most ridiculous shit without even thinking about the consequences. I wish I was more like him...then you'd like me better."

"Near never does /anything/ Mello. Yes, he is very intelligent. But, by no fault of his own, he is so very...cold. Knowing everything wont do you any good if you feel nothing. If you were more like him, you would not be my favorite."
Oops. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd meant to only think it but he'd always had a nasty habit of letting most of the things that passed through his mind, pass through his lips as well. Especially when it was least appropriate. This particular instance would make a perfect example should he ever need to explain this character flaw to anyone else in the future.
Watari had warned him. He remembered the conversation clearly. Picking favorites was a sure way to ruin a child's confidence. At such an age, it could be completely devastating. Still, that had not stopped him from becoming more attatched to Mello than the other children, even Near and Matt. The teen's mind alone was fascinating, but his personality, it was absolutely spellbinding. L had spent the majority of his own young life believing that emotion was weakness, a waste of time. Good for nothing but bringing pain and devastation in its wake. That was why he resented Near's chilly nature. Because he was so much like himself. Having had discussed these views with Watari, the older man had simply pointed out that he acted on impulse far too often to have such opinions to not be considered hypocritical. Still, he was nothing like this.

At that moment, Mello was trying to decide whether to laugh or cry, or just run away. Maybe ask Matt what to do. He had always felt like no matter what he did, it was never good enough for anyone. Somebody was always better, somebody was always disappointed in him. Sometimes he suspected that even his being an orphan was somehow his fault.

As the detective watched the various emotions warring for dominance on the boys face, he felt again what he had earlier. This desire, like that for a rich piece of chocolate cake ('devil's food, perhaps', he thought breifly) was overwhelming. So the concern of consequences never once crossed his mind when he abandoned his perch, striding over to the plushy chair the object of his affection (infatuation, was that the word? Or, something that started with a letter slightly higher in the alphabet?). He knelt down, face to face with the angelic boy, and kissed away the tears of crushing sadness left behind from moments before, the news tears of happiness (he hoped) that now fell, making Mello's eyes seem that much bluer, even harder to look at. "You have such a lovely mind, Mihael." He kissed the boy's forhead, brushing aside the neatly trimmed bangs.

"That's all I am. A genius, just like everybody else here. Nothing special." It was a strange thing to lament, being more intelligent than adults decades your senior. Yet the institution seemed able to make a room full of geniuses feel ordinary, crafted from the same mould, over and over again. Just another potential replacement. L the first, L the second, and so on, and so forth.

L could have shared his observations of Wammy's being very like a factory. Turning each child with all the dreams that come with youth, smoothing out the edges that made it unique, whittling it down until it resembled just another copy. It almost made him sad. This seemed too philosophical for him, though. Too much like something contrived to console without any real meaning behind it. So, like Watari often accused him of doing, he acted upon instinct. Not the instincts that gave him the edge to solving crimes, but the ones that he had tried so hard to bury.

He kissed the boy, observing how the texture of someone elses lips could make you that much more aware of your own. It was an entirely different sensation than chewing on your thumb, or sucking on a lollipop. His lips tingled. He saw Mello's blue eyes darken, saw the pupils widen in a biological response to seeing something pleasurable. Then the eyelids closed tight, eyelashes only a slightly darker shade than the hair on his head. L closed his eyes too, knowing somehow this was the more intimate thing to do, though the analytical side of his brain wanted to study the other biological responses in his parter- the reddening of his cheeks, the eyebrows coming together closer in concentration, or possibly confusion. He wanted to analyze, to figure out what was going on inside that pretty mind. But his thoughts kept wandering back to just how /soft/ the lips were, how deceptively strong the arms were that wrapped around his neck to pull him closer.

He knew both of their bodies would not fit properly in a chair. He also was not entirely sure how to /sit/ in chair properly, let alone with another body. Thankfully, his arms did, and took over for him, one going under the boy's knees, the other under the back of his head, to lift him up and out of the chair, before awkwardly sprawling in it himself, pulling the angelic Mello into his lap.

Seconds later, Mello was the one to break the kiss. He was short of breath, seemingly unwilling to open his eyes. When he did, at last, L noticed for the first time their unusual, exotic almond shape. L wondered how many more similarities he could find between Mello's appearance and those of his favorite foods, considering that the boys lips had reddened considerably, from the pressure of his own connecting with them...He was reminded of cherries.

Mello had started to apologize, then decided against it. He turned pleading, vulnerable eyes to the older man, again seeming to stare straight through to his insides. "Please, can I stay in here? I couldn't sleep now. Don't turn me out."

"I initiated this. I'm not going to throw you out. Could please get my case file from the desk? I believe Watari also left a blanket hanging off my chair when he brought my tea."

"Can I help with this one?" Mello asked, his voice hopeful as he crossed the room, running his fingers through his hair to smooth it back into place.

"Honestly, I dont know that I could do it without your help." What L neglected to mention was that he couldn't possibly concentrate on work if he were to simply send him back to his room now.

Mello returned carrying the requested items, wrapping the blanket around them both and handing over the stack of papers. Beams of sunlight were sneaking through partially closed blinds. Mello yawned deeply, laying his head on L's chest. The detective stroked the soft blond hair, watching his partner fight sleep, eyelids quickly losing their battle.

"Read to me? My eyes hurt. Just gonna rest them for a minute."