Erase the Feeling

Author Note: Okay, before I start this chapter I want to break something down for you guys cause right now I'm not sure you get it.

THIS IS NOT A NICE FIC.

Light is not a nice person. Honestly, neither is L. The only reason Light does ANYTHING is for personal gain. He doesn't CARE about L. Now, that may change throughout the course of this fic but for now that is where these two characters stand and it might make for some not nice things to happen.

This fanfiction will most likely feature abuse, noncon, violence, and a lot, a lot of angst. I still don't know if it's going to have a happy ending.

If you would like to keep reading knowing that, be my guest, but I thought I should make it clear before moving forward. Thank you all for your patience with me as well.

Chapter 3:

My hands are still shaking as I dial Misa's number and hold the phone to my ear. She picks up almost instantly and I can't even be bothered to find that disturbing as her voice rings, nearly shocking me out my panicked reverie. I take a deep breath and remind myself that outside this room there is an entire world, a world that I now control, and for a moment I can pretend that L hasn't been the only thing on my mind for the past 12 hours.

"Light! Oh my gosh you never call, but I just get so excited whenever I hear your ringtone. It's the song from—"

"Misa, you know the house you found? When can I go look at it?"

"The house? Oh, yeah, Misa remembers! We can go anytime you want, Light."

"How about right now?"

"Now? No way, Misa could be living with Light so soon, this is the best!"

She gives me the address and I hurriedly write it down on my wrist.

"I'll meet you there in half an hour," I tell her, and she crows with excitement that I quickly shut off by ending the call and stuffing the cell phone back into my pocket. Swallowing thickly, I try to stay positive. There's no guarantee this house will be what I need, but if Misa found this one so easily she may be able to find another the same way. I still have time; not much, but enough.

I tie L's hands (merely a precaution as the drug I used is suppose to keep the person it was used on asleep for something like 10 hours) and hide his unconscious body in the closet, just in case anyone in the investigation team randomly decides to come into my room. I slide the "do not disturb" sign onto the sleek hotel door handle before shutting it and taking a deep breath—it's time to utilize my acting skills again.

Misa is already at the address when I arrive, bouncing up and down excitedly. I lean in for a kiss and she blushes like the first time I kissed her—it seems so long ago now that I was learning about the Second Kira and meeting L around the same time. Everything happened so fast after that; it still had yet to settle down.

"The owner of the house wanted to be here when we visited," she explains, leading me up the front steps, "but I convinced him to let me borrow the keys. I really think you're going to like it, Light!"

The front is modest, boring, forgettable but nice, with a long driveway and one window facing the street. It is higher income than my family's home because Misa can afford it. The other houses around it are spaced surprisingly far away, unusual for a house this close to the city. Perfect, so far.

Misa opens the front door and leads me inside, talking the whole time, meaningless babble that I don't really bother paying attention to. The house was built recently, only one family had lived in it before and they were evicted because they couldn't pay. It isn't large but has two floors—not counting the basement.

Misa takes me up to the second floor, sighing blissfully and describing how our "master bedroom" will be decorated. I spot a perfect place for a safe in the right wall and nod along with her, making her jump with glee. We go back downstairs, passing just by the door to the basement and my hands twitch, wanting to get to the real reason I came here.

"Can I see the basement?" I ask and she leaps back out of the kitchen to smile and hold up the key to the basement, unlocking the door and turning on the lights. I step ahead of her down the stairs holding my breath, my mind racing.

It's smaller than the rest of the house, bare, clean, fully insulated and with no windows or exits aside from the door we came down through. There is an open toilet to one side that looks as though the bathroom was left unfinished; the previous owners must have practically ignored this room when they lived here.

It's perfect.

I turn to Misa and lightly grasp her shoulders, looking her firmly in the eye.

"Misa, you've said you would do anything for me. Is that still true?"

"Of course, Light," she breathes, not a glimmer of a lie in her eyes, and I am almost content.

"And that means you trust me? No matter what? Even if I don't always tell you everything right away?"

"Misa understands that sometimes Light can't tell her important things," Misa replies quietly, as though even she comprehends the importance of this conversation. "I will trust Light no matter what."

I exhale and release her shoulders. That is enough for now.

"When can we move in?"

All of the tension fades from her and she gasps delightedly.

"Anytime you want!"

"I need this basement to be soundproofed first. It's very important, do you understand?"

She nods.

"How fast can you do that? We can move in as soon as it's done."

She pulls out her phone in a flash, dialing a number without even looking as she replies,

"We can move in tomorrow, Light. I can take care of everything we need."

I sigh, amazed that it was this easy. The world must be smiling on me—smiling on Kira! Just as I think this I hear Ryuk laugh. I had been ignoring him the entire tour and he'd been suspiciously quiet. I glance his way but he says nothing and floats towards the ceiling aimlessly as Misa chatters away on the phone.

Soon. I have one last hurdle and then I can finally reap the benefits of the eraser he gave me. One last task and L will be mine.

"You are never to go into the basement, Misa. Do you understand?"

She nods obediently.

"Of course, Light. I know you'll need your private space and I wouldn't dream of—"

"You don't get it," I spit, frustrated an anxious and glancing at my watch from the corner of my eye every few moments as I'd been doing ever since I delivered the bag into the downstairs room. "You will not ever go down there. No amount of curiosity will lead you there and I will most likely never take you down there myself. The door will remain locked whether I am inside or not. Only I will have the key. If I am inside that basement and you need to speak to me, you will call or text.

"I don't care if you hear or smell of feel anything that might make you think you need to look inside that basement, Misa. You must never go down there. Do you understand me clearly now?"

She looks frozen and frightened and she swallows, blinking in the kitchen light. Her head moves almost unperceptively in the faintest nod. Her voice is small and thin when she speaks.

"I—I understand that this is important to Light. I won't go near the basement, no matter what."

I exhale and drop my hands from where I didn't even notice before that I'd been holding tightly onto her shoulders. She brightens instantly.

"Is it okay with Light if Misa finishes decorating our room now?"

She'd spent most of the morning—when I'd been overseeing the installation of the soundproofing in the basement—getting deliveries to the house of furniture and art that she then spent the rest of the day arranging as I moved the most important thing into the house. That had been several hours ago and the drug that I used should be wearing off by now. I do not want to miss L's first aware moments, the moment he realizes that he has truly and completely lost to Kira.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the finished decorations," I lie easily, giving her an encouraging smile. "I'm going to go downstairs for a while, but I should be up in time for bed."

She squeals at this and heads upstairs to our bedroom. My pulse thunders beneath my skin as I approach towards the basement door. I unlock it, step through, relock behind me and turn on the lights, illuminating the pitch-black room.

There are shackles on the wall that I installed myself and there, arms suspended unnaturally above his head as he breathes evenly, lay L—my captive. There is a blanket underneath him and a chair beside him but aside from that the room is as bare as it was when Misa first showed it to me.

He is still under the effects of the drug; I'm glad. I take a seat in the lone chair placed about 5 feet from him, watching him silently.

After a moment I grow curious—and daring. I stand, hesitating only for a moment before approaching him. My hands shake and I frown, willing my body to obey me, to not show such feeble weakness. My hand stills and stretches to hold beneath his chin, lifting his head. I see his eyes moving behind his closed lids, his mouth parted, inhaling and exhaling smoothly. It's still strange to see him sleeping after spending so much time with him and never once seeing him shut an eye. I wonder if he's dreaming.

My thumb drags along his pallid cheek; his skin is warm and soft and alive and I still don't understand how I could feel this way about him, feel so strongly about his living body when for as long as I've known him I've only wanted to see him dead. My hands feel suddenly hot and I drop his head where it lolls against his chest.

I turn away, frustrated with myself, having the same constant debate I've had ever since I received that damn eraser! Why did I want him back? Why do I feel so—so wrong when I'm around him? Why am I acting self-conscious around a man who is dead to the world?

I pause, considering this carefully. Why am I acting self-conscious? I have no reason to be, especially now! I am the god of this world and the only thing L will know. I will control him completely and he will be unable to deny me anything I want! I can take what I want and there is nothing he can do about it.

But what do I want?

"Him," I say aloud, my voice shocking and clear—trapped inside the barren room.

It's so easy once I've spoken it that way. I have nothing to fear here, none to question me but myself, I can be whoever I want and do whatever I want.

"And I want him," I repeat, firmer this time as I spin around to face him again, taking a step towards him and bending down.

It's amazing how comfortable I am being so close to him, so inside his personal space. Perhaps it's because of all the time we spent chained together, or maybe it's because of more recent revelations.

So many things have happened so fast; Matsuda's confession, the eraser, the kiss…

I take his face in my hand again, firmer this time, with conviction. My lips crash against his angrily, desperately, more wildly than I have ever allowed myself to be. But no one is here to watch me, and for the first time in my life I want something enough that it makes my heart race and skin flush and breath catch just thinking about it!

He doesn't kiss back because he can't, he's still asleep; but his mouth is hot and so sweet and I want to taste him endlessly, for as long as I have until the racing in my heart calms down and I can think again. My lips break away from his and I can hear myself making sounds I never thought I could before—moans and whimpers and desperate breathing as my mouth scrapes along his throat, underneath his ears and chin, licking him and biting him and marking him madly and possessively. My hands move underneath his shirt, tracing the lines of his stomach, not caring for a moment if my fingernails scrape hard enough to leave marks because he is mine and I'll do with him what I wish.

I'm hot, so unbelievably hot and my cock is straining against my fly. It's like something I've never felt before. Arousal has always been boring and average and mindless, a bit of human biology that allows for continued reproduction—this is nothing like that. This is instinct, desire, and heat and it feels like there are clouds in my head and sparks where my skin touches his.

He moves against me and I freeze, almost snapping out of my dazed state. His breathing quickens and his eyes flutter. I back away, swallowing and trying to clear my mind. What had I decided to say to him? I can barely remember. I notice a bulge in his jeans and that I'd somehow already managed to undo the button without realizing it. I lick my lips at the implication and he lifts his head, shaking it slightly, fingers curling against his palms as I focus on breathing, keeping calm and controlled.

He needs to know right from the start whom it is he belongs to.

His eyes when he blinks them open and closed, focusing somewhere near my feet are strangely light; blue, perhaps? They are not as I remember, black, endless pools of nothing. He coughs, moving his body and struggling as the drug continues to fight him. His eyes keep blinking open and closed, slanting and narrowed against the lights. He looks everywhere around him, attempting momentarily to stand but giving in as soon as he realizes the futility.

He hasn't uttered a single sound. A few times he glanced towards me, only to flash his eyes away to another corner of the room. I can see the gears turning in his mind as he tries in vain to place his location, the time and date, and the events that led him to be wherever he thinks he is. Eventually, his breathing evens and when he turns to me fully his eyes are black once again.

"Kira," he says pleasantly, despite the cracking in his voice.

"L," I smirk down at him.

"I see we aren't playing pretend anymore," he drones, face blank but voice the familiar hint of bored and annoyed I'd become so used to.

"I don't need to anymore," I shrug, counting each breath at the same time as I count the beating of my heart, three times faster than I let on. It's exactly as I imaged it would be. L, powerless and trapped; completely in my control, unable to do a single thing as I gloat over him, ringing in my victory with as much pride as want. "I won."

"Yes," he says, frowning for the smallest of seconds before schooling his expression. "I seem to recall dying. Which begs the question, Kira: what exactly am I doing alive now?"

"You're the detective, L. Why don't you tell me?"

Something flashes in his eyes. It looks like fierce passion and makes my heart skip a beat. This is the L that I wanted; the L that never refuses a challenge. His legs shuffle beneath him, hand reaching out from the cuffs around his wrist. Knees wishing to bend up in the crouching position as thumb wants nothing more than to settle itself in it's rightful position between his teeth. When this proves impossible he huffs impatiently and glares at nothing.

I know him so well it startles me. He is the person I spent hours and hours and days and days with, for all this time. I sacrificed so much just to fool him, and in doing so I knew him, knew him like I've never known anyone before.

"All right then," he grunts. I slip my hands into my pockets. Some muttered words slip between his parted lips, but they aren't for me to hear. He's thinking to himself; considering the possibilities. Finally, he pauses, seeming almost disturbed by some idea that's passed through his mind. Looking back to me I notice the way his eyes linger on my lips, making my hands sweat within my pockets.

"Matsuda told you," he sighs as though talking about a child who revealed an already not very well kept secret. He's annoyed—but not confused, and I grin.

"How did you come up with that?"

"You kissed me," he explains, shaking his head. "That idiot Matsuda. I knew he was the one who saw that night. He never could look me in the eye after that. But that doesn't explain how—ah, I see." He corrects himself as I take the eraser from my pocket and twirl it between my fingers.

"An eraser to match a notebook. So, Kira has the ability to bring people back from the dead as well. You've never used it before though, I don't think. What made you use it now?"

"It was a somewhat recent acquisition."

His eye flick across my face, to my hair and down to my mouth again.

"It only been a few days since you killed me," he notes. "Your hair. It's almost the same length as it was when I died."

"So you remember it that clearly, then?" I ask, taking a seat in the chair opposite him. He adjusts himself pointlessly again.

"Of course. Watari went first, and I knew I would be next."

"What did it feel like?" I'm curious, and I catch his eye before he turns to stare up somewhere around the ceiling.

"A heart attack," he mutters bluntly, unwilling to play my games…for now. "I'd hoped you would give me something a bit more creature, considering how long it took you to finally get me. But it worked out just the way you planned, didn't it, Light?" My heart stutters upon hearing him utter my given name. "The dying itself wasn't so bad. Knowing that it was you all along, that I'd lost even when I knew, I knew it was you, Light. From the very beginning I knew, and you still beat me. Is this why you brought me back? To gloat? That's poor sportsmanship, Light. I would say I thought you were better than that but I don't actually believe it."

He pauses, breathing a little heavier, some color (though not much) tinting his cheeks. It might be the most alive I've ever seen him.

"Or did you bring me back," he questions slowly, "because of what Matsuda saw?"

"A little of both," I answer honestly. There is no one here to judge me. L does not exist beyond this room; I am his whole world.

"Stupid," he mocks childishly. "I thought you were smarter than this, Light. The risks—"

"There are none," I bluff smoothly. "You are dead, L. The world you knew is gone; your new world is this room—and me."

"And if I escape?"

"You won't."

He stares at me for a long time. Minutes tick on and on, though time seems not to exist inside this room. There is nothing but him and me.

"If you're so confident," he looks away finally, towards the cuffs that keep his hands chained to the wall, "will you let me out of these uncomfortable things?"

"Not yet," I shake my head. He huffs.

"What now? You keep me locked up here forever? I'm not going to help you, Kira," he spits the name this time like it's poison from his mouth. "I swore to bring Kira to justice and—"

"And you failed," I correct him, shrugging and standing, stalking towards him intently; he is an animal in my sights, my prey. "I will explain it once more, L. You are dead. I have won, and by winning I've gained complete control over you. You belong to me, to do with… as I want."

He blinks those wide, dark eyes at me, calculating and sharp as ever. As sure as I am of the safety and security of the room and his chains, my pulse rockets. I will never be able to feel completely safe with him alive; I knew that when I made the choice to bring him back. He will always be L, the cleverest man I've ever known, and no matter how much time passes I can never let myself grow complacent with him. He will always be trying to find a way out; always trying to stop Kira. He's the kind of man who would wait years for just a chance of victory—I can never ever give him that chance.

"And what do you want, Light?" he inquires gently, patiently, like he's already worked twelve ways to get out of the prison I've placed him in. But he hasn't, because as smart as he thinks he is—I'm better. We've already proven that. "I would have thought with me gone you would have everything you wanted, and yet here I am."

"Here you are," I agree, nodding to him. "I'll admit I'm still trying to figure out why I brought you back myself. I guess I was just… curious."

He blinks like he was expecting more, and then surprises me by speaking in english, a phrase I had never heard before:

"Curiosity killed the cat."

My gaze narrows, unsure what he was trying to imply from the statement. It was cryptically threatening, and made me uneasy, though I knew I had nothing to fear.

"I'm not familiar with that particular idiom," I reply, not bothering to translate myself to English.

"I guess it doesn't really have a Japanese translation," he explains thoughtfully. My hand clenches; I don't like how calm he is. "But you can assume it's meaning: curiosity can be a dangerous thing."

His eyes flash underneath his dark bangs.

"But no one ever finishes the expression. Curiosity killed the cat," he pauses just long enough to smirk quickly then adds, "but satisfaction brought it back."

I despise him, and how my heart betrays my calm, my control, and beats furiously in my chest, tantalizing my entire being. I want to wipe that smirk off his face. I want to destroy him in every way I can. I want to make him beg, and scream, and sob.

But beg for what? Death? An end to the suffering I'm going to bring him? Or do I want something else?

Do I want him to beg for me?

My fingernails dig into my palms and my pants feel tight and hot as he levels me with that dark gaze I know so well and asks,

"So my question is… which of us is the cat?"

See? What did I say? Not a nice fic. Welp, it will probably only get worse, so you have that to look forward to!

KeikoPanda102