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

CHAPTER 6

FELINE

Though L had only barely been able to discover the corner pieces of the puzzle that made up Mello internally, intellectually and emotionally speaking, he had put together the whole border, as well as some very interesting middle pieces, of the puzzle that made up Mello physically in the few weeks that had passed since their first encounter.

L now knew that there was a very sensitive spot, slightly below Mello's right ear that, when licked, or nipped gently, both made the boys breathing stop and eyes close. L thought this to be a somewhat dangerous spot to attend to, considering that the reactions made his own heart speed up considerably. It was rather like a very good sugar rush, or caffeine buzz. He made a mental note that if he was ever in short supply of either cake or coffee, he might use this to his advantage.

He also knew that when he placed his palm against the bare skin of the blond's back, that he turned somewhat catlike. His back arched, his nails dug into L's back or shoulder, and he made this noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr. Up until that day he had been certain that not even all felines could purr, let alone a human being. But there was the proof, scooting forward in his lap, legs dangling off either side of the chair.

Then there was the other thing. Sitting this way, the boy's were doing something completely on their own, without their owner's consent, responding to even the slightest touch anywhere. It also seemed, that whenever this happened, L's own body responded. He had of course a decent idea what both of their bodies were suggesting, though the rational side of his brain was so far winning out. For what reason, other than probably some fear of the unknown and lack of knowledge, he wasn't completely sure. Some research was definately in order.

Both seemed equally surprised when L hoisted the boy up by his waist and off of his own lap.

"What's the matter? What did I do?"

"Mello and I have barely uttered words to each other in..." L looked to the ceiling for a moment, calculating, "forty three minutes. Forty seven if you don't count when I tucked some stray hair behind Mello's ear and was told that it tickled."

"I thought that's what you wanted. And don't lie, it's obviously what you wanted." Mello said, referring to his obvious physical excitement.

"Yes, loose fitting as they might be, my jeans have become somewhat uncomfortable to be in. For at least forty minutes."

Mello smirked, looking devilish despite his wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "I know what to do. I've been to that class. And the older boys talk." Mello had begun to reach for the button at the detective's pants. The wheeled computer chair slid back, braked shortly by the wall behind him. It put no more than a few feet between them, but only for a few seconds before Mello closed the gap. "I really want to make you happy, L."

"I am very happy. I have not thought of my work for over an hour. Nor of cake and tea for even longer." He gestured to another wheeled chair nearby, which Mello slid in front of L, flopping down dejectedly and setting both his feet in L's lap. He pouted for a moment, before grinning evilly again and using a bare foot to rub against the older man's lap. The blond reminded him of one of those cartoon characters with a lightbulb flashing above it's head a moment later, when the teen began to try using his toes (his toes!) to undo the offending button. L picked up the foot, kissing the big toe, before setting it back into his lap and rubbing each toe, then the instep, watching the boy forget his mission for the sake of the massage. L repeated the process on the other foot, happily placing another piece into the physical puzzle that was this boy, as well as possibly the much more challenging mental one.

The cat purred, satisfied to soak in the attention for a moment. He stretched out in his chair, toes flexing, nudging L's hand when he stopped massaging to watch the display. He continued his attention then, noting that a casual observer would see the way he sprawled in the seat, like he had and always would own it. What they might not see, not even with a mind half as great as L's, was that this was really a very insecure little boy, hoping he belonged somewhere, believing he was about to be proved wrong at any time. So he projected intelligence, confidence, danger, and now sex appeal, in hopes to be desired, or at least respectfully feared. L wondered who was to blame for this inferiority complex, if they were still alive so as to be brought to justice. It had to be a learned behavior. For it to have been there at birth was just too tragic a thought. It was one of those instances where irony just became too pathetic, like a flightless bird. He could not accept that such a captivating being, somone who'd managed to catch even his short attention span, could think so little of himself.

"To believe I am merely a part of this relationship for the physical aspects, Mello must think very little of me. He of all should know that I do not care for anything that does not have great significance. Everything I think or do must be meaningful. Any case that I have worked on, any criminal mind I have studied, has had to have layers upon layers to peel away, to disect and study. There must be something very important to discover or else it can not interest me. Despite my inexperience, I know the mechanics of sexual behavior. I have always seen it as merely biology. Something I understand very well and so become bored with very easily. I never considered that physical closeness could come with depth, with things to discover other than the how or who with. So if I did not see meaning in what we are now involved in, we would not be engaging in sexual activities. This is not two bodies reacting to eachother. When I look, it is Mihael Keehl and," L paused briefly, it had been so long since he'd said it aloud, the letters seemed wrong in that order, like repeating a word over and over until it sounds as if you're saying it wrong, even when you know you aren't "and L Lawliet."

Mello wanted to say he loved him too, even after such a short time of being together. Because, for the length of that speech, it boiled down to exactly that. He knew, though, that saying that would only cheapen the sentiment. L had said all the words he needed to. For once the blond didn't feel like he was overstaying his welcome, like he had to fight to hold onto his place. Because, L had not only said he loved him, but assured him that he was wanted, and did belong, and was worthy and special and all the other things he doubted he ever could be to anyone, especially the person he held most dear.

For all the words that had been offered, Mello only had a kiss to give as a reply. For once this seemed like more than enough.