stereonights (stereonights) wrote in temps_mort,

Christmas in July (Death Note, L and Raito, R, slight slash)

Title: Untitled
Author: StereoNights
Challenge: Christmas in July
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: L/Raito, though not really
Rating: R for swearing
Notes: I have no excuse for this except that they go to college together and college boys will be college boys. Influenced tremendously by a misguided love for Ryuuku and way too many Captain Marvel comics. Has no ending, I couldn't think of anything witty enough. I need a beta to stop me from doing things like this,

Raito awoke to the sound of a monsoon, a tumultuous tempest gouging at the insides of his head with a voice that was--Shazam!--like seven thunders in his drunken ears. He’d fallen asleep in his loafers and his brown pleated pants and, to his own great horror, someone else’s oxford shirt. What he saw around him was a battle ground of bodies in gradating states of upheaval, and for a moment all he thought was Oh shit I hope I didn’t--

But then the night came back to him, and he spied among the monsoon-ravaged faces most of the Chess and Calculus club, spied beneath the monsoon-tossed sweaters and ties and hoola wreaths empty brown beer bottles, and realized that whatever catastrophe had happened could only have been what they call in America a frat party.

Thunder clapping in his ears, he tried to remember what had gone on the night before. He could remember a lot of rot about it being an un-Christmas party hosted the president of the Chemistry club, who despite claims otherwise probably did inhale. He could remember the secretary of the Rubix Cube club breaking out a set of grass skirts and flower wreaths and DEVO’s greatest hits. Raito hoped to god that he dreamed the part about the karaoke and doing The Robot on a coffee table. He was quite sure he dreamed the part about making out with a tall English woman in the bathroom.

Through the nuclear headache he could hear a deep throaty laughter, and considered for one horrible second that though he and any witnesses had been inebriated beyond memory, his shinigami had not.


“Shut up,” he said, to which Ryuuku answered with a lot of snorting, muffled giggles.

He stalked to the kitchen--whoever’s kitchen it was, all college dorms looked the same to him through a filter of booze--glad for the fact that, though he was off-put and felt like flaming garbage, he wouldn’t have the conscience to think about evading L for another few hours.

“Good morning, Raito-kun.”

Raito’s shock was palpable and hit him like a sack of beans.

“Ryuuza--Ryuug--oh fuck. Good God-loving morning, Ryuuga.”

L appraised an open cabinet, thumb nail wedged securely between his teeth. Ryuuku gestured obscenely at L’s head and laughed with a sound like a crow’s voice. L was wearing a plush red Santa hat.

“Nice hat.”

L considered Raito for a moment, eyebrows cocked, then nodded, which set the hat more crookedly on his limp disheveled hair. Ryuuku giggled madly.

“Thank you. You’re looking well.”

Raito was nonplussed.

And hung-over.

“You too. Flaming fabulous, even.”


L turned back to the cabinet, extracting and inspecting tiny opaque jars. He opened them inhaled deeply a scent that, when it made its way to Raito, made his head throb in longing.

“If that’s coffee--”

“It is. Have a seat.”

Raito didn’t bother to wonder why he would have gone to the same frat party as L. Such as it was, he didn’t bother to wonder about the Santa hat either.

L extracted from the lowest shelf on the cart a small European percolator.

“Which would you like, Raito-kun?”

“Say that again.”

“Ah, sorry, I slip into English when I’m hung over.”

"They aren't labeled."

L reverently brought one jar to his nose and inhaled.

“Brazilian it is, then.”

Raito was about to make a comment about detectives and large noses but his syntax was doused in alcohol.

Ryuuku stood next to Raito, hands clamped over his mouth and saucer eyes mad with laughter. With his hands clamped over his mouth like that he looked like a deranged six-foot five-year-old. Unable to stand it anymore, Raito whispered:

“What’s so funny?”

Ryuuku shook with loud, brackish laughter that made his chest expand eerily every time he inhaled. To Raito's confused and head-spllitting horror, Ryuuku belted in his deep gravely bass:

“I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus...underneath the mistletoe last night...”

Adjusting the hat on his head, L said:

“Did you say something, Raito-kun?”

“No. No, no I didn't. I did not. Ryuu--” Shock fading, Raito remembered himself, and supplimented ku, I’m going to kill you with: “--ga, is the coffee done?”

“What a laugh it would have been if daddy had only seen mommy kissing Santa Claus last night...”

“Yes. Here.”

“Thank you.”

They drank in polite silence.
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