The difference is that people didn't assume they knew a photograph. If it was done in private, it would still be odd, but no one would have known of Light's existence before Light himself arrived here. However, the goal has already been achieved; had been achieved before the conversation probably, but it had to be cemented. Now that L has verbally agreed to drop the illusions, they can focus on the rest of the conversation.
He also gains nothing by pointing out that even as a human, Light himself finds nothing enjoyable about the idea of sex. Lust controls. The power Misa wields would have likely cast a spell over him as well, had he been suspectable to the same charms that work on most other men his age. It's a relief not to have that burden. Somehow, perhaps because they're so much alike in other ways, he assumed the same of L.
Perhaps the cameras were also easier to handle with that thought. Light wasn't the only person under surveillance, after all.
Both. Bonded and partners. So, he and Myr seem more and more likely. L hadn't put a label on their relationship aside from bonded, but that could be his way of keeping things close to his chest. It's also possible that 'bonded' could just as easily be shorthand for a relationship in this world.
"I am surprised. I never doubted that you were human and felt the same kind of emotions we all feel." As if lust is something Light Yagami is prone to feeling. "But you also don't seem like somebody who'd go that deep with somebody without a close relationship, and you don't invite many people to get close. At least, not in our world. I know it's not the same here. At the least, you have Myr."
L has wondered about Light's capacity for such matters, maybe from the moment he'd observed his taste in perhaps the tamest and most softcore pornography one could purchase in as endlessly creative a country as Japan. It had seemed, even then, like a performance for the benefit of suspicious prying eyes. It had been notable, the high-gloss careful way that Light had comported himself even in private, almost as if he knew that someone was watching him.
No; not just "someone." More exciting than magazines to both of them, perhaps. Even now, the recollection of it (inexact and obscured, as it must be for the sake of the game) casts a fond glow over the Bond from L's side.
When Myr is mentioned, it's accompanied by a spark; brief and heatless, very bright. It's perhaps the only way Light would pick up on L's otherwise subtle amusement. Oh, are you fishing, Light Yagami?
"Yes," he confirms, intentionally and perhaps frustratingly sparse on details. "Truly, I have Myr."
Myr, who deeply loves a man who is difficult to love. Myr, who has not been by often lately, but retreats at night to a room with L where there is just one bed. Myr, for whose benefit exists an illusory shrine to his religion though he cannot even see it in L's room.
But while Light thinks a certain way about lust and grapples with how to apply it to the detective, there are many ways to express affection and desire, and to experience their connection to the body. Even now, the precise nature of L's relationship with Myr remains difficult to discern from the outside.
"In our world, I had Watari. He was skilled at heading off some difficult things before they became real problems... if I asked for something he usually trusted that I needed it, and didn't ask questions."
L says so casually, perhaps not information that Light couldn't at least assume based on glimpses of L's interactions with the older man, but there's still a cold professionalism that might be jarring, given that Watari was L's only notable personal relationship until Light came along.
"Suffice it to say that the needs I judged relevant were seen to, in ways that could keep my cases my very first priority."
A pattern emerges based on what Light's seen, filled in by fragments of what he hasn't. Shortcuts to distance himself from his distracting humanity had featured prominently in the time he'd been handcuffed to L, in ways he wouldn't have noticed otherwise. Coffee when sleep wasn't possible, and then more coffee, and occasionally something stronger. Sugary and calorie-dense foods to keep L running when he seemed too wired and agitated to sit still long enough for a proper meal. Discreet pills brought at various points, palmed and swallowed without a second glance so long as they came from his trusted handler, their purposes never mentioned or explained.
The women were attractive, Light understood why they'd been chosen for the magazine, but they did nothing. The excitement he felt when flipping the pages could be equated to looking at a cookbook when one wasn't even hungry. More than even most other actions, that one was chosen to cast a facade of a normal teenage boy. It probably wasn't his father's proudest moment, but it was also understandable. It was something young men did.
As for L and Myr, the implication is clear, but that doesn't mean L's being honest in the image he's projecting. It's not a lie, Light can almost hear him say if their relationship is just platonic. 'I never said it was sexual'. And he doesn't. That's part of L's game. Insinuation without confirmation, leaving room for doubt and false interpretation.
The time they spent handcuffed revealed more than L would have likely revealed otherwise, but he still holds so many things close to his chest. Questions asked were often left unanswered, and there was always something else to distract them. However, Light definitely would have noticed if Watari tried to sneak someone in, someone who could take care of those baser needs for L. So, he took care of it some other way. Also likely not his own hand. It's more possible since of the two, Light sleeps more. Most humans sleep more than L. Still, in spite of all the shameless plays L is willing to make, it doesn't feel like he'd risk having Light wake up to find him masturbating.
"You were too cautious with your face for him to handle it through another person."
He's willing to bet on that. L wouldn't hire a prostitute.
"But it's not something you handle yourself, either."
He'd said Watari made sure those needs were met in a way the case could come first. Watari didn't actually... handle those needs directly, Light is just as sure.
L's game. Light would have grown accustomed to it, to the point where engaging in it even during seemingly casual and mundane moments would have become second nature. The Bond likely exacerbates it, follows the peaks and ebbs of L's interest and excitement as he engages in it, gauges reactions, discerns what to artfully reveal or obfuscate. A few breadcrumbs here, a dead end there, and it might be the closest thing the strange detective knows to bliss to string Light along on the caper.
He cants his head with a rare, prolonged blink. "You're really interested in this."
It's difficult to gauge whether his tone is amused, impressed, surprised, or flattered. If it's a combination, it's difficult to gauge the measure. The Bond is the only real indicator, the mood overall playful with an undercurrent of strange and restless melancholy. It's notable, in that it probably seems out of place with the other emotions, a washed-out, sick streak of pastel on an otherwise cohesive canvas's bold color story.
"Feeding an appetite isn't the only way to eliminate it."
He might leave it at that, vague and mysterious, but the Bond provides another layer here, as well. The shadowed outline of some hulking beast features, flank heaving under heavy sedation. Its own extracted teeth surround it in a scattered pattern that mocks the stars in L's sky.
"The simplest solutions can be the most elegant ones, at times."
"It's a new side to you. It might not be polite conversation, but I also know you won't say something you don't want to say."
Light is worried that L will find himself bullied in this scenario. While the man behind Kira is accustomed to being able to see the mood, L isn't someone who makes it very easy if Light manages it at all. Thinking faster than most normally gives Light an edge, but L's able to keep up. It's both annoying and exhilarating, though there isn't a lot of deception in the surprise so far. Light really did assume this a side of L that doesn't exist.
And like so many of their interactions, L lays a puzzle in front of him. Some might think that the vague replies mean that the detective would prefer the answer remain a secret, but Light knows it isn't true. L likes to watch Light work, enjoys the process behind the puzzle. L isn't dropping clues so that it won't be discovered; he's dropping clues so that Light can glue together the pieces.
There's a moment before all the edges align and the answer becomes clear. A surprise indeed, each seeming to top the last. At least, if Light's right.
"Medication."
The pills. Of course he remembers them.
"You've been taking medicine to suppress it?"
Is that also why L looks so young? The side-effects of suppressing the urge could be that supression of the body.
There's a sharp glimmer of genuine amusement over the complex and layered state L speaks through. Polite conversation is something L was always good at affecting on a very surface level, but it was a thin and flimsy veneer for condescension, impatience, contempt. It was as though he learned etiquette out of a textbook, right alongside standardized versions of the world's languages, and performed the bare minimum to not be considered absolutely feral by the police officers who needed to take him seriously, and usually only through a voice scrambler.
Polite conversation matters even less with Light Yagami, and the amount it matters might be at an all-time low given that they now share a Bond. There are things that are pointless to keep secret, and, perhaps, things that L might prefer for Light to know, if only to shut down speculations about possible alternatives.
"We decided, together, to handle it that way."
When L speaks honestly, there's usually a very pure effect through the Bond. If it could be compared to music, one might say that his belief and his experience are in perfect harmony, corroborating each other to the point where they become a singular voice. No one not Bonded to him would ever notice a discrepancy... but Light might sense that there's something off, very subtly. Deep in the symphony, a peg has slipped, soured the tuning of a solitary string before it's silenced.
"I'd been working as a detective for years already by that point, and as you know, I prefer to keep everyday matters uncomplicated. But I trusted Watari to handle it, to the point I actually couldn't tell you myself what I was taking or in what doses. Obviously, it didn't continue once I arrived here. There's no perfect comparison, but... can you imagine feeling hunger for the first time in over ten years? I'd think that if most people were offered food in such a situation, they would want to see what all the fuss was about."
If not for the bond, there would have been no reason to exam the statement further. It makes perfect sense for someone like L. Lust and sex are distractions; Light agrees. Thankfully, nature has been kind enough to Light that he doesn't need medicine to fight urges, but L did. Deep down, he wonders if there's some disappointment to be found in the fact, but there's none. If he'd fallen prey to Misa or someone similar, perhaps it would have been more disappointing, but to want is human. Beneath it all, they're both human.
So, in knowing that something is wrong, of course Light has to find the piece that's out of place.
"We decided, together, to handle it that way."
Together. Only one word can really change and have it be significant. Try as he might, Light can see no reason to blame it on Watari if he hadn't been involved, not when L is the speaker. That means, while one of them did make the decision for the other, it wasn't the one most might assume. Why? Did Watari really have that much power over L? If so, their relationship might be different than Light surmised.
For a moment, Light weighs the risk of pointing out the difference. Loyalty isn't something L easily gives so confronting him about the odd decision will gain him nothing. For now, it's another footnote in the back of his mind.
"I don't think it's something you can imagine without experiencing it aside from knowing most people would probably not hold out long before eating. I didn't realize you were taking medicine to help fight it."
Light leans back on the couch.
"Does Niles know because he's involved or because he has a tendency toward perversion?"
A long time ago, now, they'd played tennis. Even innocuous conversations often take L back to that game, the connection between the eye, the mind, and the body in one fluid, responsive line that demanded action and reaction. Right now, Light is reacting, as only Light can react. He watches, waits, reflects as he gets insight to the process through the closest connection two individuals can share in this world.
"No; I'm sure it's a fairly unique perspective," he agrees mildly, while inwardly bracing. There's an opportunity to needle at a perceived vulnerability, here... one that Light is notably not taking. Something for him to mull over on his own side, perhaps. Instead, the conversation moves forward (or circles back) to their mutual and concerning acquaintance.
"'Involved?' We haven't slept together," L says bluntly. "And he doesn't know I was medicated, by the bye; he attributes my attitudes toward the subject to a moral judgment of some kind, and I believe that his heckling is projection, on his part. He wants to believe that any desire for companionship is motivated by lust, and that anyone not currently engaging in coitus wishes they were, especially those wearing a gloss of disinterest. If everyone has a tendency towards perversion, after all, he has no reason to feel there's anything wrong with his."
He's not saying everything, of course. They haven't slept together; it doesn't mean that his body hasn't responded to Niles' behavior, especially in particularly tense and dangerous moments. And those had certainly not gone unnoticed by the chimera, who only found L's denial and willful suppression amusing.
"I appreciated not having to think about something known to make humans weak, and stupid... but when all of that came back, and I experimented with acting on it, it's not as if I became an animal incapable of control. I think that deeply bothers him."
A pause, then a verbal twist, maybe a joke to shift the mood.
"You're relieved to know as much, though. Surely."
You don't win by only defending. Likewise, you don't win by only attacking. A rabid dog might take every chance to snap at any perceived vulnerability, nipping and ripping at any open emotional wounds. In time, people will avoid that dog. They'll stop it. Light's reasons for doing anything are often complex, but if looked at through a harsh lens, he gains nothing by taunting L. Distance isn't his goal. That isn't to say he'll always be a saint, but he won't always be a sinner.
"It's his sword and his shield. I didn't spend a lot of time with him, but I could tell that. It's complicated with him."
Niles is a pervert, but the way he wielded that perversion wasn't the weapon of someone who enjoyed the act and simply wanted to engage in it as much as possible. It was used to try and make Light uncomfortable, perhaps even judge him a bit.
The rest of L's reply is no surprise. Their time together here has been comparatively short, but Light didn't sense any kind of uncontrolled lust brewing behind midnight eyes.
"I'd have to be surprised to be relieved. Unless the change happened since I saw you this morning, I can tell you're not suddenly controlled by it."
Which is good. Light would have been disappointed if his rival, one of the greatest minds of their Earth, suddenly began to think only with another part of his body. It would be like opening the most beautifully wrapped present to find an annoying toy.
"I think it's possible to feel lust and to choose when to indulge and when to reject. It only controls you if you let it."
"'Complicated' both says it all, and barely even scratches the surface of what's going on with him, I suspect."
As usual, L knows more than he's letting on. He couldn't exactly go so many months being stalked by Niles, and then stalking him in turn for more months, without learning a great deal about the chimera. Light had already learned a great deal with merely a short engagement; given that L and Niles are still bound by a particular contract following pale reconciliation, it's likely that he'll have chances to learn more. L's not sure how he feels about that, yet.
"Admittedly I was always impressed with how little you let it control you. Misa and Takada both made no secret of their attraction to you, and yet you remained focused entirely on the case."
Niles is a possible source of danger, but the man hadn't been horribly threatening toward Light himself aside from their initial encounter. Should that treaty break, however, he has no way of knowing if Niles is the sort to target that which is close to L. However, he can guess that if Niles had attacked Myr, L wouldn't be so forgiving. As for what that means, it's too early to say.
"Those were two different cases. Misa's cute, but she was very heavily into romance and dating before I even knew her. I wasn't interested at first. I got to see other sides of her during the investigation that changed that. Kiyomi-san... If I had to describe my type, it would be more like her. Someone I knew was intelligent, someone I could have conversations with. There was no need to rush anything, and then I had to drop out because of the investigation. Then I grew closer to Misa."
A lie, but since Misa's going to stay around, Light has to pretend to feel something for her.
"They're natural urges so of course they come up." Also a lie. "Aside from a few magazines here and there, I just prefer there to be more to the relationship. It might sound off from a male my age, but sex alone can be boring."
L's mind travels back in time easily enough, to when these women were relevant fixture in their lives, but it's a world away, a world removed. It's strange to return to this, even as it's natural, even rather fun. If nothing else, Light is telling him his type in his own words, which could end up useful down the line.
Not a surprise, perhaps. Intelligence has always mattered to Light; he'd fairly broadcasted it from the moment they'd met, making his relationship with Misa even more surprising. She wasn't stupid, the same way Matsuda wasn't stupid... but compared to geniuses, it was like trying to play in a beginners' orchestra with a virtuoso's skillset. Tedious, slow, frustrating.
"Of course they come up," L agrees easily, as if he hasn't kept those urges at arm's length for most of his adolescent and adult life. "And it is boring, isn't it? When you're hungry for the first time in over a decade, I suppose anything being served is worth trying, but once appetite has evolved into taste, the bland options aren't interesting or satisfying to pursue."
He shakes his head, chuffing a breath of curt laughter directed at himself.
"Don't mind the philosophical self-importance of my revelation. There are things I expect most humans have known for far longer, that I've only learned recently, or not at all."
"What you don't know comes from ignorance, not stupidity. You're learning. Now that it's something you want to explore, I'm sure you'll learn it as quickly as you do a lot of other things. You shouldn't be ashamed of the revelations anymore than I'm ashamed of not knowing as much magic as most of the population."
L isn't stupid. To call L stupid is just as insulting to Light as it is to L. After all, he's the first person who's managed to make Light work for any kind of victory. As frustrating as it is, it's equally, if not more so, invigorating.
"It's something you should be careful as you navigate. Some people like casual relationships, but it means more to other people. You should be ready for the attachment that comes with it if it's the latter case."
Says the man who dated so many women at once. He wasn't sleeping with him. Misa is the perfect example of someone who becomes overly attached.
"Unless it's with Myr, I haven't seen you bring other people home."
One of L's brows raises very slightly; coming from anyone, it might sound condescending. Coming from an 18-year-old is... perhaps more so. Rather than let it bother him, L considers how to use it, as he always has when others underestimate him or consider him in some way naive or ignorant. It can be powerful; it can be a tool. At the very least, it can be a surprise, because under the SQUIP's tutelage, he was in fact a quick study, and is probably in a position to teach Light something.
Absurd notion. More absurd that it occurred to him, however passingly, but maybe it shouldn't surprise him. A person doesn't have to be hyper-sexual to register others around him and consider their fitness as potential partners, even if the process is mostly subconscious. Even if, in L's case, a follow-through is rare; he is a bleak realist, regarding his own fitness, and aware that most do not consider him a sexual being. Both of his partners had many points on him in terms of physical attractiveness; both were also somewhat extenuating circumstances, considering one was a supercomputer in optimized human form and the other was an obsessed idol-worshiper pushed to a breaking point.
"I navigate very little without care," he says pointedly. "Casual relationships aren't of much interest to me, which is why I prefer to devote my energy to my Bonds. As I mentioned before, it's not uncommon for people in Bonds to engage each other in other ways, including physically, but it's by no means a requirement or even an expectation."
Vague; perhaps to be expected. L's relationship with Myr is complicated and requires thought and aching effort. L brings many uninvited companions to their shared bed: melancholy, guilt, the crushing sense of being broken or unfinished, inadequate, not good enough. He feels that he is likely an object of pity, on a good day, rather than one of desire, and that Myr has seen him at his most vulnerable and compromised can't exactly help matters.
Like after Mello.
Though he's successfully etherized himself to the last time he slept with someone, to an extent, he can't quite keep a dark, cold shudder from snaking along the chain binding them in the form of the Bond. Light can't not notice it, and it requires some kind of explanation. Rather than insult Light by forcing him to ask, L speaks.
"I haven't been with anyone that way since last winter. As such experiences go, it was cumulatively a negative one, and other priorities have diverted my thoughts from acquiring more experiences, since."
A relatively sterile explanation, all things considered. Myr gets to see L vulnerable and compromised; Light is unlikely to be afforded the privilege, Bond notwithstanding.
It's very important to know how to pick the right battles. While many would think Light is someone who needs to know everything, he's much too skilled to ask the wrong questions at the wrong time. A negative sexual experience would just be someone bad at the act, which could bring either awkwardness or even discomfort. It could mean someone became too attached and refused to simply let go. As someone interested in crime, there's a darker avenue it may take. Either way, Light knows this isn't a question to pursue, not in terms of specifics. Maybe someday, maybe never. L had a bad encounter, and it's stunted any current interest. That doesn't erase curiosity. Who was it? Light knows it wasn't Myr; their relationship isn't very good. Perhaps it was a one night stand, perhaps it's someone who isn't in his life anymore.
Perhaps it's Niles, despite the feeling Light has.
"I see the logic of adding it to bonds. Sex can be casual for some people, but it's intimate for most. So are the bonds. One involves sharing your body, and the other involves sharing your mind in a way that goes beyond talking. If affection isn't involved in the beginning, there's a high chance it becomes involved. If you're physically attracted and available, there's nothing left."
By the sound of things, L isn't currently available.
"I'm not going to ask details about your experience, but I do need to know one thing: the person, are they dangerous?"
Picking battles is a careful balance and a delicate dance. They both know as much, if only from their time in close quarters during the investigation. Now that their time together is voluntary, and their Bond chosen for all that it tramples the usual boundaries a human could reasonably rely on, it's something both of them may have to adjust their understanding of. They might find themselves engaged in a battle that started before they realized it had; they might find themselves winning or losing a battle that had been quietly underway for days or weeks.
"Yes," he replies, all smoke and mirrors banished in favor of a strangely clear and honest answer. It would be true even if Mello hadn't turned that tendency in his direction. "Very dangerous... but they departed this world before spring. This isn't a present concern, certainly not one you need to worry about."
L's words aren't obfuscating on the surface, but they're still carefully chosen, as is typical for him. He hasn't given a name, or even a sex. He's juxtaposed "very dangerous" with something Light doesn't "need to worry about." He's expressed that the situation isn't relevant to Light, while changing his habits over many months in a way to indicate that it's still very much relevant to him.
"You're correct, though. Regarding Bonds. Even if affection was minimal, at the onset... it's likely to deepen over time. While Bonds give you insight into the darkest and weakest parts of a person, the opposite is also true, and the result can be exquisite understanding. It's perhaps the closest thing to true empathy a mind is able to experience."
Even this conversation, about a man who really is gone from this world, is like a dance. L moves in graceful and particular ways, leaving the viewer, or listener, to interpret. Light's good at that.
No gender. L wouldn't be someone who cared overly much if he were gay or straight. Perhaps Light is wrong about that. It isn't like he's had time to create a profile for L in this category as he'd assumed there was no sexual interest. So, it's to keep the identity hidden. As if the slight detail would be enough, even if logically, that's impossible. As skilled as Light may be, he can't take gender alone and correctly identify a person.
This wasn't just an awkward experience. 'Negative' is still a broad category, but it was obviously more than someone who failed in sex.
"I won't ask for details, but I'll ask one thing: if they return, let me know."
Light asks, but he isn't sure the request will be granted. It's obviously something L holds close to his chest, and the older man isn't prone to sharing.
"You're saying they're only not a concern because they're gone. If they come back, they're dangerous, and someone dangerous to one person is dangerous to a lot of people."
Mello had wounded L, delivered a crushing blow to the fragile trust they'd established as a Bonded pair, and dismally failed a crucial test... and yet, L's reasons for keeping his identity as vague as possible have everything to do with a continued desire to protect him. If he ever comes back, L wants as little to do with him as possible, not foolish enough to offer him a Bond again... but not vindictive enough to hope that he meets ruin at the hands of an adversary that had ultimately ended both of them, in their world.
Of course, it goes without saying that his current priorities have gone beyond "selfish", now that he's Bonded to that adversary.
"Naturally," he replies, as though the track leading to that conclusion was a straight and uncomplicated one, and "this individual" would pose a threat to everyone as equally as he did to L, instead of disproportionately to that black and hateful grudge toward Kira's confirmed identity. "I wouldn't keep you in the dark about their potential return; to have a Bond is to protect your Bond, or... at least that's how it's meant to go."
A tiny breadcrumb of a hint, should Light choose to pursue it. Someone could certainly tell him who L's former Bonds were, and with only two before Myr, that didn't leave many suspects.
There's one loose end, of course. Near is likely to protect Mello over Light, regardless of the blond's crimes. L has little doubt that Near's general cool indifference to his predecessor extends that far.
With any luck, this will never become an issue. Perhaps if Mello returns without his memories of his time here, it would be safer... but if he's gone down that path before, it stands to reason that he could, again.
"Something to keep in mind, when you find a monster you could see yourself Bonding with."
Not that L wants to share, but he'd rather share than deal with Light exploding.
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He also gains nothing by pointing out that even as a human, Light himself finds nothing enjoyable about the idea of sex. Lust controls. The power Misa wields would have likely cast a spell over him as well, had he been suspectable to the same charms that work on most other men his age. It's a relief not to have that burden. Somehow, perhaps because they're so much alike in other ways, he assumed the same of L.
Perhaps the cameras were also easier to handle with that thought. Light wasn't the only person under surveillance, after all.
Both. Bonded and partners. So, he and Myr seem more and more likely. L hadn't put a label on their relationship aside from bonded, but that could be his way of keeping things close to his chest. It's also possible that 'bonded' could just as easily be shorthand for a relationship in this world.
"I am surprised. I never doubted that you were human and felt the same kind of emotions we all feel." As if lust is something Light Yagami is prone to feeling. "But you also don't seem like somebody who'd go that deep with somebody without a close relationship, and you don't invite many people to get close. At least, not in our world. I know it's not the same here. At the least, you have Myr."
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No; not just "someone." More exciting than magazines to both of them, perhaps. Even now, the recollection of it (inexact and obscured, as it must be for the sake of the game) casts a fond glow over the Bond from L's side.
When Myr is mentioned, it's accompanied by a spark; brief and heatless, very bright. It's perhaps the only way Light would pick up on L's otherwise subtle amusement. Oh, are you fishing, Light Yagami?
"Yes," he confirms, intentionally and perhaps frustratingly sparse on details. "Truly, I have Myr."
Myr, who deeply loves a man who is difficult to love. Myr, who has not been by often lately, but retreats at night to a room with L where there is just one bed. Myr, for whose benefit exists an illusory shrine to his religion though he cannot even see it in L's room.
But while Light thinks a certain way about lust and grapples with how to apply it to the detective, there are many ways to express affection and desire, and to experience their connection to the body. Even now, the precise nature of L's relationship with Myr remains difficult to discern from the outside.
"In our world, I had Watari. He was skilled at heading off some difficult things before they became real problems... if I asked for something he usually trusted that I needed it, and didn't ask questions."
L says so casually, perhaps not information that Light couldn't at least assume based on glimpses of L's interactions with the older man, but there's still a cold professionalism that might be jarring, given that Watari was L's only notable personal relationship until Light came along.
"Suffice it to say that the needs I judged relevant were seen to, in ways that could keep my cases my very first priority."
A pattern emerges based on what Light's seen, filled in by fragments of what he hasn't. Shortcuts to distance himself from his distracting humanity had featured prominently in the time he'd been handcuffed to L, in ways he wouldn't have noticed otherwise. Coffee when sleep wasn't possible, and then more coffee, and occasionally something stronger. Sugary and calorie-dense foods to keep L running when he seemed too wired and agitated to sit still long enough for a proper meal. Discreet pills brought at various points, palmed and swallowed without a second glance so long as they came from his trusted handler, their purposes never mentioned or explained.
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As for L and Myr, the implication is clear, but that doesn't mean L's being honest in the image he's projecting. It's not a lie, Light can almost hear him say if their relationship is just platonic. 'I never said it was sexual'. And he doesn't. That's part of L's game. Insinuation without confirmation, leaving room for doubt and false interpretation.
The time they spent handcuffed revealed more than L would have likely revealed otherwise, but he still holds so many things close to his chest. Questions asked were often left unanswered, and there was always something else to distract them. However, Light definitely would have noticed if Watari tried to sneak someone in, someone who could take care of those baser needs for L. So, he took care of it some other way. Also likely not his own hand. It's more possible since of the two, Light sleeps more. Most humans sleep more than L. Still, in spite of all the shameless plays L is willing to make, it doesn't feel like he'd risk having Light wake up to find him masturbating.
"You were too cautious with your face for him to handle it through another person."
He's willing to bet on that. L wouldn't hire a prostitute.
"But it's not something you handle yourself, either."
He'd said Watari made sure those needs were met in a way the case could come first. Watari didn't actually... handle those needs directly, Light is just as sure.
"So what was his secret method?"
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He cants his head with a rare, prolonged blink. "You're really interested in this."
It's difficult to gauge whether his tone is amused, impressed, surprised, or flattered. If it's a combination, it's difficult to gauge the measure. The Bond is the only real indicator, the mood overall playful with an undercurrent of strange and restless melancholy. It's notable, in that it probably seems out of place with the other emotions, a washed-out, sick streak of pastel on an otherwise cohesive canvas's bold color story.
"Feeding an appetite isn't the only way to eliminate it."
He might leave it at that, vague and mysterious, but the Bond provides another layer here, as well. The shadowed outline of some hulking beast features, flank heaving under heavy sedation. Its own extracted teeth surround it in a scattered pattern that mocks the stars in L's sky.
"The simplest solutions can be the most elegant ones, at times."
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Light is worried that L will find himself bullied in this scenario. While the man behind Kira is accustomed to being able to see the mood, L isn't someone who makes it very easy if Light manages it at all. Thinking faster than most normally gives Light an edge, but L's able to keep up. It's both annoying and exhilarating, though there isn't a lot of deception in the surprise so far. Light really did assume this a side of L that doesn't exist.
And like so many of their interactions, L lays a puzzle in front of him. Some might think that the vague replies mean that the detective would prefer the answer remain a secret, but Light knows it isn't true. L likes to watch Light work, enjoys the process behind the puzzle. L isn't dropping clues so that it won't be discovered; he's dropping clues so that Light can glue together the pieces.
There's a moment before all the edges align and the answer becomes clear. A surprise indeed, each seeming to top the last. At least, if Light's right.
"Medication."
The pills. Of course he remembers them.
"You've been taking medicine to suppress it?"
Is that also why L looks so young? The side-effects of suppressing the urge could be that supression of the body.
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Polite conversation matters even less with Light Yagami, and the amount it matters might be at an all-time low given that they now share a Bond. There are things that are pointless to keep secret, and, perhaps, things that L might prefer for Light to know, if only to shut down speculations about possible alternatives.
"We decided, together, to handle it that way."
When L speaks honestly, there's usually a very pure effect through the Bond. If it could be compared to music, one might say that his belief and his experience are in perfect harmony, corroborating each other to the point where they become a singular voice. No one not Bonded to him would ever notice a discrepancy... but Light might sense that there's something off, very subtly. Deep in the symphony, a peg has slipped, soured the tuning of a solitary string before it's silenced.
"I'd been working as a detective for years already by that point, and as you know, I prefer to keep everyday matters uncomplicated. But I trusted Watari to handle it, to the point I actually couldn't tell you myself what I was taking or in what doses. Obviously, it didn't continue once I arrived here. There's no perfect comparison, but... can you imagine feeling hunger for the first time in over ten years? I'd think that if most people were offered food in such a situation, they would want to see what all the fuss was about."
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So, in knowing that something is wrong, of course Light has to find the piece that's out of place.
"We decided, together, to handle it that way."
Together. Only one word can really change and have it be significant. Try as he might, Light can see no reason to blame it on Watari if he hadn't been involved, not when L is the speaker. That means, while one of them did make the decision for the other, it wasn't the one most might assume. Why? Did Watari really have that much power over L? If so, their relationship might be different than Light surmised.
For a moment, Light weighs the risk of pointing out the difference. Loyalty isn't something L easily gives so confronting him about the odd decision will gain him nothing. For now, it's another footnote in the back of his mind.
"I don't think it's something you can imagine without experiencing it aside from knowing most people would probably not hold out long before eating. I didn't realize you were taking medicine to help fight it."
Light leans back on the couch.
"Does Niles know because he's involved or because he has a tendency toward perversion?"
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"No; I'm sure it's a fairly unique perspective," he agrees mildly, while inwardly bracing. There's an opportunity to needle at a perceived vulnerability, here... one that Light is notably not taking. Something for him to mull over on his own side, perhaps. Instead, the conversation moves forward (or circles back) to their mutual and concerning acquaintance.
"'Involved?' We haven't slept together," L says bluntly. "And he doesn't know I was medicated, by the bye; he attributes my attitudes toward the subject to a moral judgment of some kind, and I believe that his heckling is projection, on his part. He wants to believe that any desire for companionship is motivated by lust, and that anyone not currently engaging in coitus wishes they were, especially those wearing a gloss of disinterest. If everyone has a tendency towards perversion, after all, he has no reason to feel there's anything wrong with his."
He's not saying everything, of course. They haven't slept together; it doesn't mean that his body hasn't responded to Niles' behavior, especially in particularly tense and dangerous moments. And those had certainly not gone unnoticed by the chimera, who only found L's denial and willful suppression amusing.
"I appreciated not having to think about something known to make humans weak, and stupid... but when all of that came back, and I experimented with acting on it, it's not as if I became an animal incapable of control. I think that deeply bothers him."
A pause, then a verbal twist, maybe a joke to shift the mood.
"You're relieved to know as much, though. Surely."
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"It's his sword and his shield. I didn't spend a lot of time with him, but I could tell that. It's complicated with him."
Niles is a pervert, but the way he wielded that perversion wasn't the weapon of someone who enjoyed the act and simply wanted to engage in it as much as possible. It was used to try and make Light uncomfortable, perhaps even judge him a bit.
The rest of L's reply is no surprise. Their time together here has been comparatively short, but Light didn't sense any kind of uncontrolled lust brewing behind midnight eyes.
"I'd have to be surprised to be relieved. Unless the change happened since I saw you this morning, I can tell you're not suddenly controlled by it."
Which is good. Light would have been disappointed if his rival, one of the greatest minds of their Earth, suddenly began to think only with another part of his body. It would be like opening the most beautifully wrapped present to find an annoying toy.
"I think it's possible to feel lust and to choose when to indulge and when to reject. It only controls you if you let it."
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As usual, L knows more than he's letting on. He couldn't exactly go so many months being stalked by Niles, and then stalking him in turn for more months, without learning a great deal about the chimera. Light had already learned a great deal with merely a short engagement; given that L and Niles are still bound by a particular contract following pale reconciliation, it's likely that he'll have chances to learn more. L's not sure how he feels about that, yet.
"Admittedly I was always impressed with how little you let it control you. Misa and Takada both made no secret of their attraction to you, and yet you remained focused entirely on the case."
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"Those were two different cases. Misa's cute, but she was very heavily into romance and dating before I even knew her. I wasn't interested at first. I got to see other sides of her during the investigation that changed that. Kiyomi-san... If I had to describe my type, it would be more like her. Someone I knew was intelligent, someone I could have conversations with. There was no need to rush anything, and then I had to drop out because of the investigation. Then I grew closer to Misa."
A lie, but since Misa's going to stay around, Light has to pretend to feel something for her.
"They're natural urges so of course they come up." Also a lie. "Aside from a few magazines here and there, I just prefer there to be more to the relationship. It might sound off from a male my age, but sex alone can be boring."
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Not a surprise, perhaps. Intelligence has always mattered to Light; he'd fairly broadcasted it from the moment they'd met, making his relationship with Misa even more surprising. She wasn't stupid, the same way Matsuda wasn't stupid... but compared to geniuses, it was like trying to play in a beginners' orchestra with a virtuoso's skillset. Tedious, slow, frustrating.
"Of course they come up," L agrees easily, as if he hasn't kept those urges at arm's length for most of his adolescent and adult life. "And it is boring, isn't it? When you're hungry for the first time in over a decade, I suppose anything being served is worth trying, but once appetite has evolved into taste, the bland options aren't interesting or satisfying to pursue."
He shakes his head, chuffing a breath of curt laughter directed at himself.
"Don't mind the philosophical self-importance of my revelation. There are things I expect most humans have known for far longer, that I've only learned recently, or not at all."
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L isn't stupid. To call L stupid is just as insulting to Light as it is to L. After all, he's the first person who's managed to make Light work for any kind of victory. As frustrating as it is, it's equally, if not more so, invigorating.
"It's something you should be careful as you navigate. Some people like casual relationships, but it means more to other people. You should be ready for the attachment that comes with it if it's the latter case."
Says the man who dated so many women at once. He wasn't sleeping with him. Misa is the perfect example of someone who becomes overly attached.
"Unless it's with Myr, I haven't seen you bring other people home."
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Absurd notion. More absurd that it occurred to him, however passingly, but maybe it shouldn't surprise him. A person doesn't have to be hyper-sexual to register others around him and consider their fitness as potential partners, even if the process is mostly subconscious. Even if, in L's case, a follow-through is rare; he is a bleak realist, regarding his own fitness, and aware that most do not consider him a sexual being. Both of his partners had many points on him in terms of physical attractiveness; both were also somewhat extenuating circumstances, considering one was a supercomputer in optimized human form and the other was an obsessed idol-worshiper pushed to a breaking point.
"I navigate very little without care," he says pointedly. "Casual relationships aren't of much interest to me, which is why I prefer to devote my energy to my Bonds. As I mentioned before, it's not uncommon for people in Bonds to engage each other in other ways, including physically, but it's by no means a requirement or even an expectation."
Vague; perhaps to be expected. L's relationship with Myr is complicated and requires thought and aching effort. L brings many uninvited companions to their shared bed: melancholy, guilt, the crushing sense of being broken or unfinished, inadequate, not good enough. He feels that he is likely an object of pity, on a good day, rather than one of desire, and that Myr has seen him at his most vulnerable and compromised can't exactly help matters.
Like after Mello.
Though he's successfully etherized himself to the last time he slept with someone, to an extent, he can't quite keep a dark, cold shudder from snaking along the chain binding them in the form of the Bond. Light can't not notice it, and it requires some kind of explanation. Rather than insult Light by forcing him to ask, L speaks.
"I haven't been with anyone that way since last winter. As such experiences go, it was cumulatively a negative one, and other priorities have diverted my thoughts from acquiring more experiences, since."
A relatively sterile explanation, all things considered. Myr gets to see L vulnerable and compromised; Light is unlikely to be afforded the privilege, Bond notwithstanding.
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Perhaps it's Niles, despite the feeling Light has.
"I see the logic of adding it to bonds. Sex can be casual for some people, but it's intimate for most. So are the bonds. One involves sharing your body, and the other involves sharing your mind in a way that goes beyond talking. If affection isn't involved in the beginning, there's a high chance it becomes involved. If you're physically attracted and available, there's nothing left."
By the sound of things, L isn't currently available.
"I'm not going to ask details about your experience, but I do need to know one thing: the person, are they dangerous?"
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"Yes," he replies, all smoke and mirrors banished in favor of a strangely clear and honest answer. It would be true even if Mello hadn't turned that tendency in his direction. "Very dangerous... but they departed this world before spring. This isn't a present concern, certainly not one you need to worry about."
L's words aren't obfuscating on the surface, but they're still carefully chosen, as is typical for him. He hasn't given a name, or even a sex. He's juxtaposed "very dangerous" with something Light doesn't "need to worry about." He's expressed that the situation isn't relevant to Light, while changing his habits over many months in a way to indicate that it's still very much relevant to him.
"You're correct, though. Regarding Bonds. Even if affection was minimal, at the onset... it's likely to deepen over time. While Bonds give you insight into the darkest and weakest parts of a person, the opposite is also true, and the result can be exquisite understanding. It's perhaps the closest thing to true empathy a mind is able to experience."
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No gender. L wouldn't be someone who cared overly much if he were gay or straight. Perhaps Light is wrong about that. It isn't like he's had time to create a profile for L in this category as he'd assumed there was no sexual interest. So, it's to keep the identity hidden. As if the slight detail would be enough, even if logically, that's impossible. As skilled as Light may be, he can't take gender alone and correctly identify a person.
This wasn't just an awkward experience. 'Negative' is still a broad category, but it was obviously more than someone who failed in sex.
"I won't ask for details, but I'll ask one thing: if they return, let me know."
Light asks, but he isn't sure the request will be granted. It's obviously something L holds close to his chest, and the older man isn't prone to sharing.
"You're saying they're only not a concern because they're gone. If they come back, they're dangerous, and someone dangerous to one person is dangerous to a lot of people."
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Of course, it goes without saying that his current priorities have gone beyond "selfish", now that he's Bonded to that adversary.
"Naturally," he replies, as though the track leading to that conclusion was a straight and uncomplicated one, and "this individual" would pose a threat to everyone as equally as he did to L, instead of disproportionately to that black and hateful grudge toward Kira's confirmed identity. "I wouldn't keep you in the dark about their potential return; to have a Bond is to protect your Bond, or... at least that's how it's meant to go."
A tiny breadcrumb of a hint, should Light choose to pursue it. Someone could certainly tell him who L's former Bonds were, and with only two before Myr, that didn't leave many suspects.
There's one loose end, of course. Near is likely to protect Mello over Light, regardless of the blond's crimes. L has little doubt that Near's general cool indifference to his predecessor extends that far.
With any luck, this will never become an issue. Perhaps if Mello returns without his memories of his time here, it would be safer... but if he's gone down that path before, it stands to reason that he could, again.
"Something to keep in mind, when you find a monster you could see yourself Bonding with."
Not that L wants to share, but he'd rather share than deal with Light exploding.