It will be interesting reviewing the surveillance tapes after this.
L knows the cameras are always watching - knows there is not one place in the building he isn't able to see anytime at the simple click of a mouse. The security at headquarters is flawlessly thorough, L made sure of that. No secret corners, no hidey holes, and especially no privacy. No matter what the circumstances.
And this situation is no exception.
The headboard bangs loudly against the wall, echoing off the walls. There is a camera directly above the bed, L knows, and once again he thinks how strange it will be later - sat calmly at his computer - watching himself arching his back and grunting obscenely and yanking at the lightweight metal of the chain that connects him to the young man below him.
The handcuffs were another security precaution in themselves, to make sure L never let Light out of his sight, to make sure Light never sneaked off to do something devious. And they certainly seem to be doing their job at the moment, even if L hadn't originally planned on using them to bind Light's wrists to the bedposts.
But even so, there is no doubt that Light isn't getting away now. Not that he wants to, if the tightness of legs around L's narrow waist and the harsh groans of harder, fuck, deeper and Ryuzaki in his ear are anything to go by. Light's cock practically leaps in L's hand when he palms it, and L vaguely wishes he'd put even more cameras in the bedroom. Because even such high-tech equipment as what L uses can’t be good enough to document the tiny details: the fine layer of sweat coating Light's face and neck and dampening his hazel hair, the sore imprints of the cuffs rubbing their wrists raw, the puce bruises and indents in the shape of teeth and fingers which litter both their bodies.
And L thinks Light has never looked more beautiful than he does now; spread out oh-so-willingly beneath him, arching his hips into every rough thrust, mouth slack and eyes squeezed shut. And you would think that Kira would be above such things, wouldn't you, but apparently even a God has instinctual needs and L smirks to himself when he feels Light tighten around him and he comes - face contorted in some sort of reluctant grimace - unwilling to admit that he’d loved every second of L fucking him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The first reply! Yay! I hope you like. ;)
Date: 2008-01-10 05:12 am (UTC)L knows the cameras are always watching - knows there is not one place in the building he isn't able to see anytime at the simple click of a mouse. The security at headquarters is flawlessly thorough, L made sure of that. No secret corners, no hidey holes, and especially no privacy. No matter what the circumstances.
And this situation is no exception.
The headboard bangs loudly against the wall, echoing off the walls. There is a camera directly above the bed, L knows, and once again he thinks how strange it will be later - sat calmly at his computer - watching himself arching his back and grunting obscenely and yanking at the lightweight metal of the chain that connects him to the young man below him.
The handcuffs were another security precaution in themselves, to make sure L never let Light out of his sight, to make sure Light never sneaked off to do something devious. And they certainly seem to be doing their job at the moment, even if L hadn't originally planned on using them to bind Light's wrists to the bedposts.
But even so, there is no doubt that Light isn't getting away now. Not that he wants to, if the tightness of legs around L's narrow waist and the harsh groans of harder, fuck, deeper and Ryuzaki in his ear are anything to go by. Light's cock practically leaps in L's hand when he palms it, and L vaguely wishes he'd put even more cameras in the bedroom. Because even such high-tech equipment as what L uses can’t be good enough to document the tiny details: the fine layer of sweat coating Light's face and neck and dampening his hazel hair, the sore imprints of the cuffs rubbing their wrists raw, the puce bruises and indents in the shape of teeth and fingers which litter both their bodies.
And L thinks Light has never looked more beautiful than he does now; spread out oh-so-willingly beneath him, arching his hips into every rough thrust, mouth slack and eyes squeezed shut. And you would think that Kira would be above such things, wouldn't you, but apparently even a God has instinctual needs and L smirks to himself when he feels Light tighten around him and he comes - face contorted in some sort of reluctant grimace - unwilling to admit that he’d loved every second of L fucking him.
L can't wait to review the tapes later.