Love knew no color, race, gender, religion nor other pathetic human boundaries, love knew no beliefs nor logical divides, love knew not universes or worlds or even death.

And love didn't seem to know when to stop, either.
Thud, and the body hit the floor with a sickening snap. But Raito knew those bones always creaked and he liked to imagine them breaking for once, under his grasp, but he knew that this damned creature could never be broken.

He straddled L's waist from behind, bent down and hissed into ebony locks, 'You never know when to stop, do you?'

He was promptly flipped over by white hands, hoisted up and rammed into a shelf with no little force.

'Why yes,' mused the voice, lethal and low. 'I actually do know, for your information. 'Never.'



Raito always bit at L's neck like a starved feline; as if trying to rip his throat out. He kissed aggressively and clutched him close like he was a lifeline. And yet, L could squirm all he want under the brunette's reckless pawing, but it was the detective himself who incited shivers and gasps and silently mouthed confessions and accusations, all with just a feathery touch of the fingers or lips. L was insistent and demanding and stubborn and a tomcat in bed, but if there was ever one thing Raito would always remember him for...

...L was achingly gentle.

And every agonizing sweet nothing whispered in his ear was perhaps as painful as the clock counting down their time together.

Raito pried L's head away from the nest he'd made of the teen's chest, and stared at him with a look that was half adoration, half incredulous.

'...You...'

'Never know when to stop?'

L's eyes glazed over for the first time that night, and uncertainty clouded the black irises. And Raito saw that L wasn't sure of anything, anymore.

'No,' he said so quietly, and dipped his head. 'I don't know.'

Tight arms in a sudden, warm embrace and 'yes, yes you do.

'Never.'

Though instead of a statement, it was a beg more than anything else.