The Eminent Sage and Junkie (theladyfeylene) wrote,
The Eminent Sage and Junkie

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30 Lemons Fic: Glowing Like The Metal On The Edge of a Knife; L/Naomi; NC-17

Title: Glowing Like The Metal On The Edge of a Knife
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: L/Naomi
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1156
Author's Note: Written for a 30_lemons claim, prompt 1 'Anonymity or Taken By the Stranger'. Takes place in my AU.
Warnings: Semi-public sex.
Summary: All Naomi had needed was a ride back to the hotel, but a stop in traffic sends the night down a different path....

It was like the first time she‘d met Ryuzaki, when Naomi hadn’t realized the raccoon eyed, slouching young man was L. Before she knew everything, before she realized the connection between herself and the world famous detective.

She stood in the empty subway, waiting. But not for a train - she had stayed out too late, missed the last train by twenty minutes. She’d been forced to call for a ride. She waited for it now, in the shelter of the subway station, her small purse hanging from her wrist and her black leather jacket hanging open.

There was no slouching young man slinking out of the shadows this time, only a sleek black town car that pulled up to the curb. Naomi ran to it, boots clicking on the cement, and was surprised when the door opened for her.

“Ryuzaki!” She was surprised again at the idea of Ryuzaki leaving their hotel just to come pick her up. She slid into the seat next to him, closing the door behind her.

“I hope you do not make this a habit, Naomi.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Naomi yawned, settling in against the seat and resting her head on Ryuzaki’s shoulder. She thought again to that day in LA, when he was just some nameless stranger to her.

Would she ever have thought she’d be here with him now, curled against him intimately? It felt almost unreal.

She stared at the privacy screen that separated Watari from the backseat, feeling a fool for letting time slip away but feeling content in the warmth of the car.

The car came to a sudden stop, and Naomi sat up, confused.

“There appears to be an accident ahead.” Ryuzaki was unruffled. Naomi was used to it - even in their most intimate moments, he was detached. It was slight, and maybe another woman wouldn’t have noticed, by Naomi could. He was never completely distracted from his work, never entirely there with her.

But she’d accepted that.

Naomi leaned back against Ryuzaki, and he shifted to wrap an arm around her shoulders. The movement was mechanical, habit. But Naomi curled into him anyway. The way Ryuzaki’s head was turned made his neck look quite long, and Naomi turned to kiss him. She pressed her lips against his neck gently.

Ryuzaki turned. The reaction was unexpected. But maybe he had intended to spend the night with her from the beginning. Maybe that was why he came, when there was no need for him to.

Their lips met, Naomi’s experienced and practiced, Ryuzaki’s still unsure and awkward. His hand moved to her breast, and she shifted. They were right there in the car, Watari was right in the front seat! And Ryuzaki was kissing her and fumbling at her breast like a teenager.

The car slowly inched forward. They could be stuck there, waiting for the accident to be cleared, for who knew how long. Ryuzaki kissed her neck and pushed at her shoulder, urging her to move.

She ended up laying on the seat, Ryuzaki’s hands on her breasts, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to stifle her small sounds of pleasure. What if Watari heard them? She’d die of embarrassment!

She had to admit, though, there was an air of excitement about rolling around the backseat like teenager’s in a parent’s car. Her skirt hiked up her thighs and Ryuzaki pulled down the straps of her sleeveless top and bra, exposing her breasts. She lay there, skirt around her hips, breasts exposed under her black leather jacked, head thrown back as Ryuzaki’s fingers teased and pinched her sensitive nipples.

It was awful and amazing at once. This crazy, spontaneous, wrong fooling around in the backseat of the car. She could feel the hum of the engine through the seat, doubling every sensation from Ryuzaki's hands.

She met his eyes, lip caught between her teeth, watching his intent expression. What he lacked in skill, he made up for in determination. He offered a tight, fleeting smile as his fingers worked over her.

Naomi reached for him, drawing him down on top of her, kissing him again. She could feel him through the fabric of his jeans, feel him against her thigh. She ran her hands through his messy hair, over his back, under the fabric of his white shirt to touch his bare back. She shifted her hips, to feel his hardness between her legs, the rough denim of his jeans teasing her thighs and rubbing against the cotton of her panties.

The car picked up speed, suddenly. Naomi made a startled noise as Ryuzaki suddenly drew away, crouching on the seat while she lay there, panting and in disarray with her clothing partially pulled off.


“We’re moving again,” he responded, mildly. “I suggest you compose yourself, Naomi. You cannot walk into the hotel in that state.”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed as she yanked her skirt down and pulled her bra and shirt up. She was practically aching now, and Ryuzaki was idly staring out the window, thumb against his lips, as though he hadn’t been rutting on top of her not two minutes ago.

“We’re finishing this when we get back,” she grumbled, sitting up and adjusting her skirt a final time.

“I have work that needs attending to.”

“It can wait.” Naomi glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Perhaps it can.” Ryuzaki shrugged. “Assuming you don’t intend to take too much of my time.”

“You’re a jerk.” Naomi rolled her eyes and had to laugh a little. Ryuzaki was a jerk, but she loved him anyway. She loved him as L, the cold, reserved detective. She loved him as Ryuzaki, who flirted with her and teased her and made love to her like an eighteen year old boy. She loved the stranger and the lover, and sometimes he was both at once….

“I suppose those police reports will remain where they are until the morning,” Ryuzaki finally said, as they pulled into the hotel’s parking lot. He glanced over at her, his head tipped back and over, eyes grabbing hers for a moment.

“Just get out of the car and upstairs,” Naomi snapped, shoving him gently with her foot. Ryuzaki only looked at her, and slid out of the car when Watari opened the door.
Tags: death note, fic, naomi/l

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