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I can't believe I didn't say this sooner
I'll just believe that I was all displaced
I'll get to speakin' let you know how I feel
I'll get to judgin' make you see my appeal
-The Almost, "Say This Sooner"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Yagami Raito stood in front of the marble white gravestone as it rained heavily and thundered overhead. Lightning lit up the cemetery, exposing the old english engraved in the smooth stone's face.

L Lawliet.

October thirty-first, nineteen-seventy-nine to November fifth, two-thousand-four.

The world's most prominent detective.

Like hell he was. Raito could testify to that. The man was a fucking genius in the feild of investigation. A god damned genius for crying out fucking loud! So much of a genuis that the teen had to commend the late detective for finding Kira.
Finding Kira.

Ha! Finding Kira, his ass. He fucking knew Kira! Lived with Kira! And he was the only one who knew he was Kira. Yet he let him walk around free as a fucking dog. . .because he didn't want his friend to be fucking Kira.

Kira. Him. He was the reason L was six fucking feet below. He was the reason L was pushing up fucking daisies. He was the reason L kicked the fucking bucket. Him, Yagami Raito, Kira, had Rem kill L, the only person that stood between him and his new world. . .his only friend in the world.

Friends. That's what they were on the surface. deep down they were justice and dissolution; god and mortal; enemies. But he did want to be the man's friend. Raito wanted to play tennis with L agian. HE wanted to spend time with the detective. . .Hang out with him on the weekends. . .Eat cake with him. . .Solve more cases by his side. . .

But no! He just had to have the detective disposed of to save his own fucking ass! He was a fucking asshole. He was prey to his fucking obsession.

Maybe this is just a nightmare, the teen thought, digging the heel of his hand into his right eye, I'll go home and sleep it off, then, when I wake up this whole damned week won't exisit. . .I'll go back to task force and there L will be, sitting at his chair, waiting to start the case again. . .

Raito shook it from his mind. That was just so fucking impossible; once someone had died by the Death Note they were gone. No if's, and's, or but's about it. No coming back to life. They were damned to fucking Mu, eternal nothingness. Eternal fucking nothingness. Fucking eternal. Neither allowed to heaven nor hell-if those godly places even fucking existed.

And it was all his fucking fault.

L deserved better. A hell of a lot fucking better. The detective deserved his life not. . .nothingness. He deserved to be walking the earth. He deserved to have a whole strawberry cheesecake. Better yet, a whole strawberry cheesecake factory. L deserved it. All of it. Not to wonder around aimlessly in the abysmal nothingness until his mind and soul evaprotated from all existence. That was a waste of who the detective was or would have been. He didn't deserve that, the fate that Raito had brought down on him.

He dropped down onto his hands and knees on the detective's grave, an anguished cry threatening to erupt fromhis throat. His eyes began to burn and foreworned him of the tears that would inevitably form, making him clench them shut. He locked his jaw and shook his head. This wasn't what he wanted when he had that fucking shinigami Rem kill L. he didn't want to feel so fucking. . .alone.

Suddenly, Raito realized that he never really wanted the panda eyed man dead. No, not at all. That was just what he fucking thought he wanted. He couldn't have been any further from the truth; Raito wanted L. He wanted the detective to hold him close. He wanted L to whisper sweet nothings to him. . .To lay him down. . .Caress him. . .Touch him. . .to take him. He wanted L to make him his own. Make Kira his. . .He wanted the detective to. . .love him.

Maybe L wanted to love him, too. Raito remembered the detective doing little things, almost like hints. The detective would place his hand over his when no one was around. L would flirt a little. Well, it wasn't quite fliritng, but it was close enough for Raito. He would say little things to Raito that meant nothing on the surface; but the underlying significance implied slim affection, as if he wasn't sure of the feeling himself.

Raito missed that about the investigator. No, scrath that, he missed everything about L. The way he sat with his knees drawn to his chest. . .the way he held everything as if he were afriad it was covered in germs. . .the way he traced the pad of his thumb along the curve of his bottom lip. . .the way the slight rose color would turn a shade darker under the presseure of the sugar addict's appendage. . .how his bottom lip lowered from his top lip to allow his thumb's apex entry way. . .How tempting it was. . .

Raito rested his forehead on his forearm and heaved a deep breath. His body shook fromt he cold of the rain and his sorrow. Tears forced their way out of the dams of his clenched eyelids and the anguished cry he tried so fucking hard to hold back tore loose and echoed throughout the graveyard.

"Damnit!" he screamed at the dead man beneath the grave he was over, "I should have said it sooner!" The discomposed teen fell onto his side and dug his nails into his eyelids. "I loved you! I wanted to be yours! I didn't want this! For either of us!" His voice dropped to a chokey whisper as he spoke again, "I wanted you to fucking love me the way I love you. . ."

Thunder cracked loudly over the cemetery and another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. If Raito would have looked up, he would have seen the deceased L sitting on his head stone in the strange seating position that only he could manage. He pressed his thumb to the corner of his lips and smiled down weakly at the young Yagami quaking from the cold rain and the misery in his heart. He knew he could do nothing for the aching teen. As the sky darkened again, the detective gently whispered to him, "And I did, Raito-Kun. I did."

Description
I can't believe I didn't say this sooner
I'll just believe that I was all displaced
I'll get to speakin' let you know how I feel
I'll get to judgin' make you see my appeal
-The Almost, "Say This Sooner"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Yagami Raito stood in front of the marble white gravestone as it rained heavily and thundered overhead. Lightning lit up the cemetery, exposing the old english engraved in the smooth stone's face.

L Lawliet.

October thirty-first, nineteen-seventy-nine to November fifth, two-thousand-four.

The world's most prominent detective.

Like hell he was. Raito could testify to that. The man was a fucking genius in the feild of investigation. A god damned genius for crying out fucking loud! So much of a genuis that the teen had to commend the late detective for finding Kira.
Finding Kira.

Ha! Finding Kira, his ass. He fucking knew Kira! Lived with Kira! And he was the only one who knew he was Kira. Yet he let him walk around free as a fucking dog. . .because he didn't want his friend to be fucking Kira.

Kira. Him. He was the reason L was six fucking feet below. He was the reason L was pushing up fucking daisies. He was the reason L kicked the fucking bucket. Him, Yagami Raito, Kira, had Rem kill L, the only person that stood between him and his new world. . .his only friend in the world.

Friends. That's what they were on the surface. deep down they were justice and dissolution; god and mortal; enemies. But he did want to be the man's friend. Raito wanted to play tennis with L agian. HE wanted to spend time with the detective. . .Hang out with him on the weekends. . .Eat cake with him. . .Solve more cases by his side. . .

But no! He just had to have the detective disposed of to save his own fucking ass! He was a fucking asshole. He was prey to his fucking obsession.

Maybe this is just a nightmare, the teen thought, digging the heel of his hand into his right eye, I'll go home and sleep it off, then, when I wake up this whole damned week won't exisit. . .I'll go back to task force and there L will be, sitting at his chair, waiting to start the case again. . .

Raito shook it from his mind. That was just so fucking impossible; once someone had died by the Death Note they were gone. No if's, and's, or but's about it. No coming back to life. They were damned to fucking Mu, eternal nothingness. Eternal fucking nothingness. Fucking eternal. Neither allowed to heaven nor hell-if those godly places even fucking existed.

And it was all his fucking fault.

L deserved better. A hell of a lot fucking better. The detective deserved his life not. . .nothingness. He deserved to be walking the earth. He deserved to have a whole strawberry cheesecake. Better yet, a whole strawberry cheesecake factory. L deserved it. All of it. Not to wonder around aimlessly in the abysmal nothingness until his mind and soul evaprotated from all existence. That was a waste of who the detective was or would have been. He didn't deserve that, the fate that Raito had brought down on him.

He dropped down onto his hands and knees on the detective's grave, an anguished cry threatening to erupt fromhis throat. His eyes began to burn and foreworned him of the tears that would inevitably form, making him clench them shut. He locked his jaw and shook his head. This wasn't what he wanted when he had that fucking shinigami Rem kill L. he didn't want to feel so fucking. . .alone.

Suddenly, Raito realized that he never really wanted the panda eyed man dead. No, not at all. That was just what he fucking thought he wanted. He couldn't have been any further from the truth; Raito wanted L. He wanted the detective to hold him close. He wanted L to whisper sweet nothings to him. . .To lay him down. . .Caress him. . .Touch him. . .to take him. He wanted L to make him his own. Make Kira his. . .He wanted the detective to. . .love him.

Maybe L wanted to love him, too. Raito remembered the detective doing little things, almost like hints. The detective would place his hand over his when no one was around. L would flirt a little. Well, it wasn't quite fliritng, but it was close enough for Raito. He would say little things to Raito that meant nothing on the surface; but the underlying significance implied slim affection, as if he wasn't sure of the feeling himself.

Raito missed that about the investigator. No, scrath that, he missed everything about L. The way he sat with his knees drawn to his chest. . .the way he held everything as if he were afriad it was covered in germs. . .the way he traced the pad of his thumb along the curve of his bottom lip. . .the way the slight rose color would turn a shade darker under the presseure of the sugar addict's appendage. . .how his bottom lip lowered from his top lip to allow his thumb's apex entry way. . .How tempting it was. . .

Raito rested his forehead on his forearm and heaved a deep breath. His body shook fromt he cold of the rain and his sorrow. Tears forced their way out of the dams of his clenched eyelids and the anguished cry he tried so fucking hard to hold back tore loose and echoed throughout the graveyard.

"Damnit!" he screamed at the dead man beneath the grave he was over, "I should have said it sooner!" The discomposed teen fell onto his side and dug his nails into his eyelids. "I loved you! I wanted to be yours! I didn't want this! For either of us!" His voice dropped to a chokey whisper as he spoke again, "I wanted you to fucking love me the way I love you. . ."

Thunder cracked loudly over the cemetery and another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. If Raito would have looked up, he would have seen the deceased L sitting on his head stone in the strange seating position that only he could manage. He pressed his thumb to the corner of his lips and smiled down weakly at the young Yagami quaking from the cold rain and the misery in his heart. He knew he could do nothing for the aching teen. As the sky darkened again, the detective gently whispered to him, "And I did, Raito-Kun. I did."