Author's Note: ok, this was previously a dream.

Of course, dreams are messy vicious things, so I woke up, drowned something like three cups of coffee, and got to work. I don't know if continue this, or leave it like that.

I'd like to know your opinions.

Anyway, there might be mistakes, English is not my first language so…

Enjoy!

Rivalries are fun. They make your brain work, your blood stream faster in your veins, and adrenaline flood your entire being until all you can think of is the desire to win, to succeed.

Other kids were so serious and boring. They behaved like 70 years old men, thinking that the competition going on in that Institute meant their entire life.

Well, in a certain way, they were right.

But Light wasn't fooled. He and L were the number ones, the two teenagers competing for the title of Greatest Detective. And he didn't have the chance to win, regardless of his academic performance. Mr. Wammy, the ultimate judge, hated his guts. He didn't know why. Maybe because he kept breaking rules all around, sneaking out of the orphanage to visit his old friend Mikami in the near town, or maybe the way he came there, covered in the blood of his family, his eyes strangely cold despite his tender eleven years of age. From that day, he was known as Kira. It was Wammy's idea of a bad joke, since Kira was the Japanese (his original nationality) pronunciation of the word 'killer'. Light scoffed at the thought. It's not like he killed anyone. He wanted to become a detective in order to find out what really happened to his family that many years ago. But with time he started to accept the idea that he would remain in the dark.

Anyway, he had his fun. He charmed staff and kids alike, he waltzed through his exams and tests, and studied medicine with Mikami, who wanted to become a doctor. Something about the joy of saving lives or whatever.

His greatest fun, however, derived from the other boy, the weird guy who would become the Greatest Detective.

L.

What a strange name.

And it was his real one too. The other told him while they were under the covers, tired and sticky and covered in semen and other bodily fluids. It was only fair, since L was one of the three people in England to know his real name.

Yeah. Because with rivalries, comes tension, and what better way there was to relieve stress than having sex with the source of said stress? It didn't matter that personal relationship were prohibited, or that they were both guys, or that they were supposed to hate the other's guts. They screwed each other, and it was glorious. Light often ached for days, and hated chairs with passion, but he wouldn't give this up for the world.

Or so he thought.

It began in April.

Light and L shared a room, under the latter insistence, and their relationship, if so could be called, was going smoothly. They fucked, they fought, and they connected in ways that no other human being could understand. Equals in brain and maturity, they complimented each other. They were a team, and, in a certain way, loved each other. Not that they would tell the other. Oh no. Prideful beings till death, they were.

Anyway, in that cursed month of April, things changed.

Light woke, and launched himself out of bed, getting caught in the sheets and tumbling to the ground, banging his left knee hard on the marble floor. Ignoring the injury, he crawled quickly toward the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. His destination reached, he barely had the time to breathe before he started puking. Fucking hell, he thought, feeling the bile burn his throat and flow through his mouth, making him gag more at the taste. He heaved, bent in two over the sacred bowl of salvation, until all he was spitting was saliva. He breathed, long and deep, trying to ignore the dreadful smell coming from in front of him, and, when he was certain his stomach was empty and kind of settled, flushed the toilet, moving shakily to his feet.

He looked horrible, he contemplated at his reflection. His hair was messy, he had bags under his eyes and his skin was pasty and pale. Washing his teeth, he tried to think about what he had eaten the day before, but nothing peculiar or strange came to his mind. He always tried to eat healthily, unlike his partner, who only ate his damn sweets and pastries. Just thinking of the smell almost made him reach for the toilet again.

Twenty minutes later, completely clean and feeling a little better, he exited the bathroom, a towel swung over his hips for a little modesty.

L was perched over the desk's chair, looking at the laptop's screen with his owlish stare. When Light entered the room he turned around, his eyes roaming over the other in search of any evident injury, before speaking.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice blank but worry evident in his normally impassive eyes.

Light tried to smile, but what he managed was more of a grimace. "I'm fine" he kind of lied, going towards the wardrobe.

He would be proved wrong.

He couldn't do it anymore.

He didn't show it, not even to L, but he was worried.

Three months. Three months of puking every morning, of being moody and snappy and horny all at the same time.

Three months of hunger like never before.

He had never been hungry in his life. He ate at the same hours, three times a day, healthy meals complete with everything.

Those three months shattered his metabolism. He was always hungry. At night he woke up in the darkness and had to go in the kitchen, to eat like an animal, crouched down in front of the fridge, its light the only font of illumination in the entire room.

L, mysteriously, didn't comment on those events. Maybe he felt it wasn't his business, and in a way it wasn't. But in his own way L was there, embracing Light when the other wanted a cuddle and keeping his distance when he was in a psychotic mood.

But Light was tired. He had gained weight, but not the amount he expected, and was so dreadfully tired. So one afternoon, when everyone else was busy, he sneaked out of the Institute, heading for the near town.

He waited in the shade of an oak, leaning against the metal fence behind him.

Half an hour later, the doors of the university opened, and a steady and crowed stream of students came out. Mikami spotted him almost immediately, that spot being his usual to wait for the other, and smiled at him.

They greeted each other, exchanging pleasantries, until Light explained the reason he was there.

Mikami grew serious the more he listened, and leaded Light to one of the laboratories, white and sterile and equipped with expensive machineries.

The first thing they did was a complete blood exam, and while they waited the results Mikami examined Light, flashing a torchlight in his pupils and checking his temperature and pressure.

The machine pinged and Mikami read the charts on the screen, the worried crease between his eyebrows deepening the more he went on. He sighed worriedly, sliding his glasses up his nose in a nervous gesture, and then tried to think.

"What's wrong?" asked Light, trying – and failing, he was majoring in Criminology, thank you very much – to read the mysterious answer.

"There's something wrong with the production of hormones, especially progesterone. I'd like to give you an echography, are you ok with that?"

Light frowned, moving automatically toward one of the medical beds on one side of the room. Every time he studied with Mikami he tried to pay attention to the medical notions the other talked about, but he inevitably found his attention drift elsewhere. He was more interested in poisons and things like that, but hormones? He only knew the basic biology things about them, those studied in one of the mandatory classes at Wammy's, and, if he remembered correctly, an high level of progesterone in a male was… unheard of.

He stretched on the bed, automatically taking off his shirt and lying on his front, back to the air.

"I will first analyze your kidneys, since the progesterone is produced by them. Is the gel too cold?" Mikami asked, pouring the cold stuff on his lower back. Light murmured a negative answer, finding the coolness soothing in that damp day of June. "Let's see…"

The machinery made a few odd noises, while projecting a semi clear image of Light's kidneys on the screen. Mikami watched keenly, and appeared more worried.

"Did you find anything?" Light asked, feeling him remove the transducer from his back and wipe off the goo.

"That's the point; I didn't find anything, and I expected to find something that could explain the dysfunction, like a cyst. Let me see your abdomen."

Lying down on his back, Light shuddered this time, feeling the cool goo touch his belly and soil his higher pubic hairs. He felt a strange sense of foreboding, and tried to calm down taking a deep breath.

Mikami stayed silent, his expression turning serious and kind of incredulous.

"What?" Light asked, feeling anxious.

The answer shattered every certainty in his life.

Light and Mikami watched blankly the roof of the latter's apartment, trying to make sense of the last revelations.

"Are you sure…?" asked Light, trying to keep the hysteria out of his voice.

"I'm no obstetrician, but I studied pregnancies, and the sack in your abdomen looked exactly like a textbook placenta, with its own fetus inside."

Light stayed silent, trying not to panic.

A baby.

There was a tiny little human being growing inside his body, and it shouldn't even be possible! He was a male, for God's sake.

He closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and breathing out from his mouth. But the tight feeling in his chest didn't disappear, crushing his breath inside his lungs. He strangely felt a strange itching in his nose, and eyelids fill with tears.

He didn't know what to do. He was 16! He wasn't ready to be a father; he didn't even know it was possible for a male to give life in that way! He wanted a future working to catch criminals, to bring Justice to the world. He wanted…

It didn't matter what he wanted, did it? He had to figure this out, that care of this baby and move the hell out of Wammy's.

Because he wasn't going to kill a son of his, no matter how freakish his gestation was. And he couldn't live in the Institute. If they found out, he would be locked up, experimented on, and who knows what else. Mr. Wammy hated him, and would see this pregnancy as an abomination, and…

L!

He sat up suddenly, ignoring the slight dizziness and vertigo, feeling again the panic trying to crawl up his throat.

L was the father. There was no doubt there, because the guy had been his first – and his only for that matter. What would he think?

He tried to imagine the dark haired boy finding out of his pregnancy, of his male roommate carrying his offspring… He nearly whimpered, curling on himself, deaf to the soothing whispers in his ears of a worried Mikami.

He didn't think L as cruel, or as a bad human being. But he made clear at the beginning of their affair that all that wasn't serious, that it was just a way to release a normal hormonal tension. Of course, that was more than two years before, and their fondness for each other had increased, but there was that. The fact that none of them had spoken up and talked about their feelings. Now Light didn't know for sure the real nature of L's feelings for him, or their depth, and a baby inside a male womb…

L would reject him for sure. He was 18, after all, and not ready for any of this. And Light would become a lab rat, and his baby… would become a freak.

He refused. He wouldn't let any child of his be mistreated.

So he had to go away. That was a certainty now. Where, he didn't know, but far away, in another continent, somewhere cold but not too much…

A hot cup of something was shoved in his hands, making him resurface from his troubled thoughts. The kind face of Mikami appeared in front of him, his friend seated on the floor near him, showing his support to the teen. Light closed his eyes and inhaled the subtle scent coming from the cup in his hands. Earl Grey Tea, his favorite. That bought a shaky smile on his lips, and he looked at his friend, gratitude shining in his golden eyes.

"Keeping all things bottled up inside that body isn't good for you, mate. Just talk to me, ok?"

"Sorry" Light took a sip, letting the comforting taste soothe his worries, at least for that moment.

They remained silent for a while, slowly draining their cups, and Light melted into the couch.

All the things happened that day caught up with him, and he didn't even notice his eyes slowly closing, or Mikami taking the cup from his hands, or being rearranged better on the sofa.

With a tired sigh, he was asleep.

He slipped in his room at half past three in the morning, cursing himself in his head for sleeping so long and Mikami for letting him sleep, using the excuse of him 'being pregnant'.

The room was dark, the only source of light the glow of L's computer in one corner of the desk. The other genius was nowhere in sight.

Light almost smiled in relief, sitting down on the mattress of his bed – and L's bed, since they had pushed together the two twins almost two years earlier – and removing his shoes. He was peeling his socks from his feet when a warm breath behind him made him jump, scaring him half to death.

He turned around, and found dark glittering orbs staring at him from a pale, pale face, almost luminescent in the dark.

"L!" he hissed, feeling his heart slam against his ribcage from the force of his scare. He then proceeded to discard his other clothes on the floor, feeling too tired to fold them up and put them back in the dresser or the laundry basket.

The other smiled, watching the other bare his golden skin. "Where were you?" he finally asked, moving to the other side of the bed in order to permit the brief removal of sheet.

Light slipped in the bed naked, sighing softly to the feeling of cool cotton on his bare skin. He made himself comfortable, covering his frame halfway, unconsciously concealing his barely rounding abdomen.

"I was with Mikami, helping him for his exams" he answered in the end, smoothly lying. "I fell asleep" he offered, in a sort of apology.

L hummed, watching the other in silence from his perch on the mattress. He had missed the other teen, missed his nearly constant presence beside him, supplying clever intuitions and small jokes. He leaned down, slowly peeling the sheet away from the other, baring him to the lukewarm summer air, and admired him for a second, before settling down on him, careful to not crush him. His lips found a prominent collarbone, and, after licking thoroughly the skin there, started to nibble it. His hands shifted to the boy's hipbones, and then down to the toned thighs, spreading his legs and settling down between them.

Light sighed softly, closing his eyes and enjoying the attention. Part of him wanted to flinch away, protect himself and begin to distance himself from L in light of his imminent departure, but another part of him, a bigger one, had missed the comfort the other genius gave him. He embraced him, sliding his arms around the other shoulders and molding him against his chest.

"I'm tired" murmured in L's ear, trying anyway to take off the other's shirt. He managed it with a little help and tossed the cloth beside them on the bed. He then started working on the jeans.

"We'll make this quick" agreed L, and finally naked he kissed Light's lips, breaching easily the other's mouth, while taking hold of their members.

Both sighed, and L started moving, jerking them both off, his movements quick but not hurried. There was a kind complicity between their bodies, knowledge of pleasure and familiarity. They kissed, they thrust, they sighed and moaned in the dark, their bodies sleek with perspiration. Light caught the other between his thighs, making him move closer. The movements became quicker, more desperate, cocks slick with precum sliding against the other and puffs of strangled breaths against the other's shoulder.

Light came first with a strangled cry, his body taunt and his eyes closed tight, feeling the waves of pleasure overwhelm him, before going boneless against the bed. L was close second, his breath hurried and irregular, his teeth sunken lightly in Light's neck, creating a possessive mark, and emptying himself on the other's belly. He then collapsed on the other, trying to catch back his breath, licking the bite left on the golden throat and resting his forehead on the pillow.

They embraced, tired and satisfied, until L cleaned them both with his dirty shirt. Light rolled to one side, one hand under the pillow and the other on his stomach, and relaxed, feeling the warmth of L's chest settle against his back.

And then they slept.

The next fortnight was busy. Light attended classes, joked around, tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Every three days he went to Mikami, bringing to his flat some things he couldn't leave behind when he finally would escape, and at night, after lying to L about some project, he used an encrypted computer in the basement, throwing the basis of the new lives he and Mikami were going to live.

Yeah, Mikami had insisted. He had said that Light needed support, that his medical condition was unknown and he, even without a degree, was more than able to help him. Or see if something went wrong.

Light was torn. On one side, he didn't want his friend to leave his life behind, his friends, his university and his studies. On the other, he really needed that support. Because being male and pregnant wasn't going to be easy. He would be forced to hide, to give birth in some way or another… He shuddered.

Anyway, in the darkness of the early hours of the days he created their new identities, their new (very wealthy) bank accounts, he bought a home. He fabricated IDs, reserved flights, found jobs for both of them.

It had to be done.

And no matter how he tried to cover his trails, he knew that L was suspicious. Light knew that L couldn't even have a close idea of what he was going to do, but the other genius was aware that something big was going on. He even tried to ask Light about it, while they were lying in bed and sleepy, and Light had made him promise not to involve himself. That everything would end well.

What a lie.

Another one who seemed to notice something was Beyond.

L's twin brother had always left Light mostly alone, just giving him an inquisitive look the night he arrived bloody and broken to the Institute's doors. B mostly stayed on his own, the only person he talked to being A, his supposed best friend. Light had always found him mostly friendly, if not a little creepy and not exactly sane, but hadn't really taken the time to know him. He had L, and that was more than enough.

Two months.

Two months that Beyond looked at him with those red eyes of his.

At first, the look had been puzzled, shifting between looking above his head and at his chest. Then, it had become amused, fond, and curious at the same time. Light felt his gaze like a tangible touch on his skin, not in a creepy or perverted way, but more like… a protective feeling.

Beyond and protection weren't two word he was used to put together.

Anyway, everyone left him alone to finish the preparations, and finally, everything was ready.

The last day was a gloomy one for Light.

He put on a façade of being his usual perfect self; he listened to lectures and made his homework.

But inside he was falling apart. He didn't want to leave the Institute, his home for the past five years. He didn't want to leave L.

His chest felt heavy with grief, and his throat was constantly clogged with tears. Talking normally was a difficult feat.

He had almost given up several times, while lying in L's arms, surrounded by his scent. But he had to go.

The most important thing now wasn't his future, or his feelings. Now Light had to think of his baby, the little human being developing in his belly, relying on him for survival. He absently wondered if every mother in the world felt that way. Then he finally understood the things people did for their children.

That last night he waited in the dark, leaving the window open to let the moonlight enter the room. He waited for L, naked as the day he was born, sitting on the edge of their bed. His mind was clear, focused on one aim: to enjoy that last moment with the person he was going to leave behind.

Because the chances of meeting Light again after that night were slim. He couldn't let him know about his child, that little being that the world, if found out, would see as an abomination and a freak. And he couldn't keep contact with him, because if Light heard his voice, or saw his face, he would give in to the instinct to tell him about their little miracle, about what they had created.

The door opened, and L stepped in.

After closing the door, he stopped, almost tasting the air. L seemed to catch some intention, some unvoiced plea of silence, because he just stepped towards Light, shedding his clothes on the floor.

They clashed half way, hungry lips smacking and smothering, tongues chasing each other. L closed his arms around Light's waist, and Light weaved his fingers through dark tresses, feeling the thickness on his skin. He pushed the other toward the bed, gently forcing him to sit down, and then lay down on the mattress.

L's dark eyes were almost luminescent in the dark, fixated on him, filling their depth only with images of Light, of his body, of his golden eyes and tanned skin. They held a sense of finality, as if their owners knew that that night was the last, that they wouldn't see each other for a long time, probably forever.

Light closed his eyes, fighting with the sudden lump in his throat, and crawled over the bed, over the other, giving him a lingering kiss on his lips before moving down to his chest, worshipping the taut skin on the sternum. Their members brushed, making them release moans in the air, and one of Light's hand shifted through the sheets, searching for the small bottle he had put there earlier.

He uncorked it, dipping his fingers in the cool gel, and lifted himself up on his knees, reaching behind himself between his cheeks, exhaling breathily and pushing a finger in, breaching the tight ring of muscles easily, loosened from frequent activity. He still prepared himself slowly, closing his eyes against the sensations, feeling L's heavy gaze on him like a physical touch.

They stayed silent even while he positioned himself on L's thick cock, and breathed shakily while he lowered himself, sitting then on the other's hips. They looked at the other, sharing feelings left unsaid, and Light finally moved, contracting the muscles in his tights to lift himself up.

Light rode L slowly, enjoying the thickness penetrating him and L's warm hands on his hips, caressing his skin, letting him control their lovemaking.

Light's body felt heavy and sluggish, his chest tight with emotions, his belly roaring and clashing and rising with pleasure and he couldn't control his voice anymore, his moans echoing in the dark room and joining L's sighs. His movements became uncoordinated, almost wild, and had to let L guide him over his cock, again and again, every thrust almost more deeper than the previous, seeming to reach his very core.

With a cry, Light came, throwing his head back and arching his spine, and felt his muscles constrict around L, who almost lurched upright before releasing inside him.

They didn't say anything afterwards. They cleaned themselves, and settled down to sleep.

And if Light's arms were tighter than usual around the other's middle and his eyes shiner than normal, L didn't mention it.

The morning light streamed through the open window, slithering over pale skin and dark hair.

Owlish eyes blinked open slowly, the haze of sleep remaining for another second in their depth before retroceding quickly. Now perfectly awake, L looked around, trying against every prediction to find Light in the room.

He wasn't there.

He was long gone.

L sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillow for a moment before standing up, arching his back to relieve himself of some pain. Light's part of the room looked bare. He had noticed it emptying slowly a week ago. Everything of importance was gone. Only school books remained, not even one album or drawing supply Light was so fond of using. Now the room looked empty, cold, unfeeling.

He had known, of course, of Light's imminent departure. He had noticed it in the nervous spasms that had travelled the teen's body, in the slightly bitten lips, the wrinkled clothes. He knew everything that made Light Light, so he had quickly noticed that something was worrying him. Something big, because the teen hadn't talked to him. He had been worried, of course, and had thought about talking to him, trying to find out what was going on. But Light loved his privacy. And his eyes, through hesitant, had been resolute. He had already made his decision, and nothing L could do would change that.

Now, he was gone.

L felt lost. He looked around again, and spotted a piece of paper on the desk, near his still working laptop. He watched it as if it was a wild beast, fearing its content, then with a sigh picked it up.

Don't follow me.

Only those three words. A plea for privacy. One he would respect. He wouldn't search for him, or try to find out if he was okay, or where he was.

And L would give him time. Wammy would notice the disappearance of Light only if told, and the teachers wouldn't report him until a week was gone. And by that time, Light would be far away.

L got to work.