Chapter Text
For the third night in a row, L sat at the desk in the bedroom of his hotel suite, chewing thoughtfully on his fingernails and musing over the website he had found the week before. On the website were advertisements for the various acts at the club, along with links to all the different drink specials, but what had captured his attention the week before, and what was holding his attention now, was the blurb about the club’s star dancer.
‘Come see the seductive and charming Kira!!! His numbers are a true show-stopper; you’ll NEVER see the same show twice. Moves so slick and effortless, it will take your breath away - he slays the competition every time! Be sure to come out and see the incredible, incomparable Kira for his next heart-stopping show during the Halloween Extravaganza!’
Exhaling noisily, L bit at his thumbnail. He hadn’t bothered to mention this to the Japanese task force or INTERPOL, because obviously it was silly to think that a stripper, of all people, might be the actual Kira. But it had been almost a year with no real leads on the case, and the fact that he couldn’t find any pictures of this self-proclaimed ‘Kira’ was mysterious and unusual… and as it drew closer and closer to his birthday, L couldn’t help but want to indulge his curiosity a little. Finally, making up his mind, he slid his phone closer, tapping out Watari’s number and waiting for the man to pick up.
“Evening sir. What can I do for you?” Watari’s voice sounded a little scratchy, like he had just woken up.
L didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze sliding from the ‘Kira’ advertisement down to the date on the bottom right-hand side of his computer screen. Tomorrow night. He’ll be there tomorrow night. “Watari… I have a request for my birthday.”
--the next evening--
Watari removed his hat with a heavy sigh as L climbed into a chair at a table near the front of the stage. “Ryuzaki, you are old enough to come to an establishment like this on your own, I really don’t see why I need to be here.”
L shot him a look, and then refocused his gaze on the stage. The helpful young woman in the cute little cabaret number at the door had informed them that the next act would be starting soon, but it seemed he had a little time to wait until Kira would take the stage. His mumble could barely be heard over the Top 40 hits that were playing while the costumed staff made their way through the crowd, taking care of drink and food orders from various customers. I kind of wish I’d at least worn all black or something out of the ordinary for me, I feel underdressed. “I’m not familiar with the etiquette of a place like this. I wouldn’t want to be kicked out for something silly.” And if this Kira is a disappointment, there’s no point in me staying.
---
Light was sitting in his private dressing room and getting ready for his act (the headlining act, of course), when his manager Hitoshi Demegawa burst in, huffing and sweaty in his gaudy purple suit. Oh, terrific. He blithely flicked his eyes up in the mirror as he leaned in while applying a coat of waterproof mascara. “Yes, Deme?” He didn’t feel like wasting time when he needed every precious second to reach his flawless standards before stepping onto the stage
“Light!” Demegawa rushed up to Light’s vanity, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve got a packed house, like literally sold out! That’s the first time it’s ever happened!”
“Well, what did you expect?” Light capped the mascara with a soft pop and tossed it on the vanity, an elegant, manicured hand hovering over his extensive selection of lipsticks. “I told you that new ad campaign was going to hook every fish in town.” Nothing too dramatic for lips, I’ll focus on eyes tonight. “It’s a good thing you listened and incorporated my editorial suggestions.” He picked out a sparkly nude gloss, but after checking the brand-- ugh, did someone slip cheap drugstore makeup in here?! -- he picked another.
Demegawa nodded happily, wringing his hands and thinking about all the money he was going to make tonight. Hiring this new dancer had single-handedly turned his mediocre club into the hottest nightspot in Tokyo in the span of a month. “Yes, yes, you were right! Ooooh, I hope you’re feeling on tonight. That crowd is hungry!”
Light smiled in the mirror, laughing softly. “Don’t worry. Have I ever failed to impress? Now stop making me nervous and go back out there and do...whatever it is you do.” Take a cut of my tips, mainly. “I have to finish getting ready.” And stop sweating all over my dressing room.
“Good, good. I just checked in on your backup dancers and they’re all looking fabulous .” Demegawa stuttered at the unamused look on Light’s face. “N-not as fabulous as you, ah aha! That would be impossible!” He seemed satisfied that his moneymaker was in full effect, and slipped back out the door, pausing to call, “Good luck!” As he walked back to the floor he thought he might just have to buy another money-counting machine. One had just been taking too long recently.
Greedy oaf. Light sighed to see the door shut behind his manager, resuming his routine and smoothing some product into his hair. But Demegawa was right about something (for once). He felt strangely excited tonight, like something was going to happen. Maybe it was just because of his new routine, maybe because it was Halloween, but something felt electric tonight. Probably just me.
---
As the stage was cleared from the previous act, Watari sighed, surreptitiously checking his watch. “Sir, we’ve been here for nearly an hour now, and I can see you aren’t interested in any of the acts. Why are we here if you aren’t going to enjoy yourself?”
L shrugged, not wanting to say anything about the real reason he had wanted to come out tonight, though he was sure Watari would have figured it out by now. “ You liked the last act,” he pointed out, pointedly not looking at the older man as he took a sip from his drink (some fruity, slushie concoction he had forgotten the name of already), his gaze instead following the people walking in and out of the door off to the side of the stage area. He had noticed some of the dancers disappearing back there with particularly high paying patrons, and while he could guess at least some of what was happening back there, and the dancers were all good at what they did… well, none of them managed to catch his interest. Because you’re here for Kira.
“I did. She was exceptional.” Watari’s voice was matter-of-fact, and when L gave him a grimace, the old man smiled smugly at him. “If you weren’t so preoccupied with the headliner, Ryuzaki, maybe you would be having more fun. Loosen up.”
Oh shit. He’s telling ME to loosen up? L gave him a flat glare before rolling his eyes and turning away. “You just liked her because she reminds you of your ex-wife.” Pausing, he snuck a glance back at the man and then quickly looked down at his hands, picking at a hangnail on his thumb. “I’m just curious, Watari.” Can’t blame me for that. His gaze went back to the door at the back, chin in his hands as a waitress dressed in a tacky angel costume brought Watari a second drink. He saw the door open, letting out a sweaty looking middle-aged man in an even tackier purple suit, and his gaze followed the man as he disappeared behind the bar. Wonder if that’s the owner. “Besides, I am having fun,” he finally said, perking up when the music started to fade away.
Watari started to say something, but L shushed him, sitting up a little straighter and his heart beginning to race slightly as the house lights went out completely. Is Kira next?
---
Light was waiting for the moment the house lights went down, taking a deep breath as he checked his tie yet again and adjusted his black silk masquerade mask, looking over his shoulder and signaling to the backup dancers. He whispered, “Don’t forget the new moves we rehearsed!” They nodded indulgently behind their own masks, but it was just his nerves talking. He knew they’d be on point, especially since he’d hand-picked them all personally. Each one was dressed in an immaculate black suit while his own was blood-red, his signature color since he’d started to perform here to raise some money for his plans. Of course, that suit wouldn’t stay on too long, and despite its stylish tailoring, the pieces were designed for quick and dramatic removal at exactly the right moments in his routine.
Before he could whisper anything else, he heard Demegawa on the other side of the curtain, his voice slightly muffled. “And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!”
Light jerked his head to signal the dancers to take their places on the floor as he settled comfortably into a plush, high-backed chair on their side of the curtain. He gripped the ends of the armrest, leaning back and assuming a look of sultry smugness, and crossed his legs to let a hint of the Louboutin stilettos he was wearing peek out from his pants leg. None of the other male dancers can dance in heels this high. Their height pushed him two inches over six feet, and he loved the feeling of towering over everyone else. Of course, the customers would try and paw at him but somehow the insults and abuse he meted out in return only brought him more tips. Demegawa had given him a reaming out about it until Light had tossed the fat roll of money on his desk. Now? He had carte blanche to do whatever he liked.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard of the brazen deeds of Kira! A supernatural mastermind the likes of which we’ve never seen! Why, he’s held the entire world hostage exacting his judgment upon the criminal scum of our society!”
On the other side of the curtain, Demegawa was droning on and on, clearly enjoying being on stage and hearing himself speak. Light rolled his eyes at his manager’s dramatics. You’re just going to turn everybody off, dumbass. Well, he’d fix that shortly.
Demegawa took a dramatically hushed tone, sweeping his hand in the air like a huckster of days gone by. “But did you know, ladies and gentlemen, that he will also take hostage your LIBIDOS?!” The crowd giggled, although a few hecklers were calling for him to get off the stage already. Demegawa frowned in their direction, huffing that his little speech was going unappreciated. “Hmph. Well then. I shall delay your erections and soaked panties no more! Behold...a god among men! Human perfection! The incredible, brilliantly talented, and hotter than the Hell from which he sprang-- the one and only KIRA!”
L’s expression flickered in annoyance as the man in the purple suit stepped up onstage to announce the next act. The man’s dramatics made him think he had miscalculated - surely anyone really worth coming to see wouldn’t have this imbecile introducing them. “Ugh, get off the stage, idiot,” he muttered under his breath, slumping back in his seat with a scowl. Maybe this was a stupid idea after all. ‘Take hostage your libidos’, who SAYS that? He had to laugh when a few people near him started heckling the man on stage, folding his arms on his knees and smirking. After all this, Kira better be worth it.
A few lines of bass echoed in the club as the curtain pulled back, Demegawa awkwardly comporting himself down the stage steps as first one spotlight and then another and another snapped on to illuminate the positions of the masked dancers sprawled or kneeling at Light’s feet. They slowly started to gyrate and reach towards the chair until the last spotlight snapped onto Light. He looked up with a menacing but sexy smirk to the audience, rising from the chair as the song really started, pretending to kick and shove the dancers out of his way as he strode down the catwalk. Of course, they all knew their cues to pretend to fall back as if struck or writhe in cardiac-arrested ecstasy when he shot a glare their way.
Watari was giving him a curious look, but L ignored it, especially when the music started. His mouth dropped slightly open when he recognized the k-pop song; every other dancer so far had gone for the most obvious of mainstream songs to dance to, which was boring at best (and cringey at worst), but hearing something he actually liked instantly had him leaning forward, intent on the stage as spotlights began to show what looked like a mass of backup dancers. That’s different, none of the other acts had backup dancers. A flash of stiletto under blood-red fabric caught his attention just as the last spotlight revealed a smirking young man in a form-fitting suit and mask. L’s gaze followed him as ‘Kira’ rose, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the confident and aggressive swagger in the young man’s walk. He paid only the slightest attention to the other dancers, enough to notice that their choreography was a sexualized parody of Kira’s signature move, and a low chuckle left him as he returned his attention to the star of the show.
Light had always been a very talented dancer-- oh, he knew he could move-- and he wasn’t holding back now as the dancers behind him started to get up and follow his lead. He turned his back to the audience, looking over his shoulder and letting his jacket shimmy off. He tossed it aside, whipping back around to gyrate his hips and run his hands down his body as they moved into some erotic dance choreography that he’d devised himself. He strode towards the end of the (already laden with yen) stage as he popped his belt buckle, his fans going wild since they knew that one of his signature moves was to let an audience member undo his pants. And it was usually the person who was tossing out the most money, so as soon as Light cast even a glance to the crowd, fountains of money rained down.
None of the other acts had interested L in the slightest, hadn’t inspired him to part with any of the cash burning a hole in his pocket. Now, watching the way this young man moved, L was suddenly glad he’d held onto it. He eagerly drank in every move ‘Kira’ made to the pulsing beat, feeling the music in a visceral way and following the cue of the audience to toss money onto the stage without even thinking of it.
Light stopped in front of a dark-haired young man at the front of the stage, smirking down at him as he pulled his belt loose and let it dangle from his hand. The crowd was chanting, ‘ Pants! Pants! Pants!’ in nearly a frenzy, everyone staring at the lucky winner. Almost as good as watching this was seeing what kind of sexy underwear Kira was wearing tonight.
It wasn’t until ‘Kira’ had stopped right in front of him that L realized he had become a part of the act, and he froze, unable to do more than stare open-mouthed up at the dancer, only vaguely hearing the chant from the audience. What? Pants? His gaze flickered from Kira’s face down to the dangling belt in the man’s hand, swallowing hard as his eyes went right to the pants in question. Oh shit. Am I supposed to take them off?
Light raised an eyebrow, “Well?”
L’s gaze snapped right back up to Kira when the young man spoke, his breath catching in his throat, and he couldn’t help but smile up at Kira, reaching as if in a trance to undo the fastening of the dancer’s pants and blushing when his fingers accidentally brushed bare skin. That simple touch made him want to do it again, and he exhaled hard, unable to pull his eyes away from Kira’s burning gaze.
Light smiled in amusement at the slack-jawed young man fumbling with his zipper, but there was something adorable about him too, like he’d never been to a strip club or was inexperienced with being in the spotlight in general. Light loved to be admired, which was one of the reasons this job didn’t bother him in the slightest (and the money wasn’t bad either), despite rude people constantly trying to paw at him. But this man was respectful and generous with tips, the perfect kind of customer. And he’s young...and attractive in a weird kind of way. Huh.
“Well done.” As soon as his fly was opened, Light held his arms out and grinned up at the mirrored ceiling, letting the backup dancers unbutton and remove his dress shirt and then rotating and wiggling his hips until his pants fell to the ground around his ankles. Underneath, he was wearing a red and black laced corset with matching panties, along with black silk stockings held up by garter straps with little chrome skulls. In fact, the entire ensemble was embroidered with red skulls and little flaming hearts on black velvet or silk, and he never wore the same outfit twice for a routine. That was one of his stipulations that Demegawa had been required to meet, although he’d wear outfits again for private dances for special patrons.
L didn’t normally get self conscious. In fact, some people would call him downright arrogant , and they weren’t wrong, but this? This was an experience far outside his frame of reference, and even just seeing the young man onstage smile at him like that was enough to make him fumble, beaming at the encouragement and immediately pulling his hands away as the dancers took over. He gripped the edge of the stage, staring in awe as the suit pieces were pulled away to reveal a very flattering corset-and-panties number. Holy shit, this guy really IS hot as hell.
The audience was screaming as Light kicked his pants off-stage, turned, and dropped to a crouch to show off his ass (coincidentally right in front of the nervous man’s face), popping back up in a smooth motion while arching his back seductively to the music. He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder to see the man’s reaction, not missing a beat in his routine.
The beat of the music was almost overpowering, and L couldn’t even hear the screaming of the crowd anymore over the sound of his own rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears - a fact for which he was grateful a moment later as Kira dipped right in front of his face, a strangled gasp leaving him. He pressed his fingers to his mouth, hoping the dancer hadn’t heard his embarrassing reaction, his breathing coming hard and fast when he thought he saw Kira look back at him for a moment. What did I DO to get this kind of attention?
A not -so-special patron pushed his way roughly to the front of the stage and grabbed Light’s leg before the club’s bodyguards could notice, “Kira!!! I love you!! Will you dance for me after the show? PLEASE?!”
L’s trance was broken when another patron rudely pushed him aside, and he fell back to his seat, eyes wide.
The rude customer tried to slide his hand up Kira’s stocking-ed leg but let out a surprised yelp of pain when Light kicked him hard and pressed his face flat to the stage beneath a black stiletto.
The rest of the club howled in laughter and cheers, because all the regulars knew that Kira had zero qualms punishing those who stepped out of line. “Get ‘em, Kira!!” “Can you believe the nerve?” “What an idiot!”
Watari cleared his throat loudly, but it didn’t garner more than a quick flicker of L’s gaze back to him before his charge was once again staring raptly at what was happening onstage. “I see you’re enjoying yourself now,” he said dryly, leaning forward to say it right in L’s ear, but it seemed his words were clearly falling on deaf ears.
L didn’t bother to acknowledge Watari’s comment, too entranced by how much he very much liked watching this dancer press the rude man’s face into the floor with those heels. Huh. Swallowing hard, he clutched his knees to his chest to hide his body’s reaction; he couldn’t remember ever reacting this viscerally to anyone before. Shit, I didn’t think I’d ever want someone to STEP on me.
Light chuckled darkly as he pressed down harder with his shoe, knowing better than to cause any damage other than to the man’s pride. He hissed down at the man, “How dare you. Writhe for me you worm !” The man squealed as Light twisted his heel, then gasped in relief and scrambled back when Light spat on him and pulled his foot back. But Demegawa and his goons were right behind him, dragging the man off as Light grabbed the pole on stage and started to climb and spin downwards gracefully.
As soon as the bouncers pulled the hapless fool off the stage, L was right back at the edge of the stage to watch the rest of the show, an eager grin on his face.
The rest of Light’s act went off without a hitch, which involved the backup dancers removing his corset and stockings with their teeth, using one as a footstool, pretending to fuck and then kill them, and finally, just before the lights went off again, he ripped his mask off. Light gave the young man at the front of the stage a smoldering look in the split second before darkness, and then strode off stage to let his ‘assistant’ collect all his tips. Who would guess that a real shinigami cleaned up my money in the darkness for apples? But I know Demegawa won’t steal any of it that way. He sighed happily as he headed to his dressing room to clean up, exchanging a few words of praise with his dancers and wondering if he felt up to a private dance tonight.
By the end of the song, L was all out of cash, and the electric energy coursing through him from that smoldering look he had received from ‘Kira’ before the lights went out-- and he hadn’t imagined that one, he was sure it had been meant for him personally-- was making him bounce giddily as he returned to his seat.
“That was incredible,” L breathed, ignoring the long-suffering expression on Watari’s face. “He’s a very good dancer.” And so GORGEOUS. He’s as close to my idea of human perfection as I’ve ever seen.
“I suppose so.” Watari eyed him, and sighed when L started giving him a hopeful look. “Did you spend all of the cash on him ?”
“So what if I did?” L responded immediately, giving the man the wide smile that had always worked to get him what he wanted. “Can I have some more?” He saw the beginning of a disapproving head shake and leaned forward, eyes wide as he wheedled, “It’s my birthday, Watari, please? ”
Demegawa had been practically bursting with happiness at the piles of cash that had been accumulating on stage, taking careful note of who was tossing out the most. He always tried to cultivate a good relationship with the most generous customers, to encourage them to spend more money or to come back again. Tonight, it was hard to tell due to the constant rain, but one person stood out-- an under-dressed black-haired man sitting close to the stage. This guy’s practically drooling and from the way he’s sitting to hide his crotch, looks like we got a whale on the line.
“You’re lucky it’s your birthday, Ryuzaki,” Watari finally murmured after a little more whining from the detective, sighing as if put upon as he reached for his wallet. “If you come back, I’m not going to accompany you.”
“Thank you, Watari,” L said with a pleased smile, taking the money and shoving it in his pocket.
Demegawa watched the customer speaking to an older, formal-looking man, and then money passed between them. Hmm, but looks like it’s that old guy who’s really the loaded one.
The manager drummed his fat fingers on the bar counter as he thought, but he’d already made up his mind to go be ‘charming.’ He approached them both when the music lulled between acts and people were getting drink refills or chatting. Putting on an enormous grin, he played it safe and addressed them both. “Why, hello! I haven’t noticed you two here before. Welcome to my fine establishment. I’m Demegawa Hitoshi.” He bowed, although his stout form could only bend so much. “I hope you’ve been having fun. Did you enjoy Kira’s act?” He waggled his eyebrows at Watari, getting a sly look on his face. “Perhaps you’d like a private dance from our star?”
As L took a sip of his melting drink, he turned to give a curious look to the man in the purple suit, who had made his way over at some point and was now greeting them. So he IS the owner. I figured. A snort left him when the man asked Watari about the Kira act, stifling his snickers by taking another drink.
Giving the stout man a withering look, Watari commented dryly, “I enjoyed the other dancers, sir, thank you, but no, I will not be purchasing a private dance from this… Kira .” He shot a glance over to L and sighed, already guessing what was about to happen.
Demegawa was undeterred by the older man’s refusal, since he now doubted whether Light would have even agreed to it. Probably not, but he seemed to kind of like the younger guy. “Well, there are plenty of others to choose from, sir!” He motioned to the various dancers mingling in the audience, although Kira was not among them. Light refused to do that kind of thing and preferred it be mediated through his manager.
The manager turned to L, giving him the same treatment, “Or you sir? Kira is extraordinarily expensive, but I guarantee it’s worth every yen.” That was absolutely true-- he’d never heard a single complaint from anyone who’d gone to Kira’s private room, and plenty of offers for return business. Too bad Kira agreed to so few private dances. I’ll really have to have a talk with him about that!
L rested his chin in his hand and stared at the man for a moment as he thought back to that look. He was definitely intrigued by the thought of getting a chance to be alone with Kira. “How expensive?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head at the man. I don’t care about spending the money, who am I kidding. “I mean…” A tiny, dreamy smile found its way onto his face, and he wondered if Kira would do it. It sounded like, if the dancer was that expensive, he could afford to be picky. “I enjoyed Kira’s act very much, and I would definitely like to… I’m just curious.”
Demegawa’s smile flickered slightly when the younger man asked about price, sniffing a little. “Well…” In his experience, people who lead in with that question usually couldn’t afford it, and negotiation was completely out of the question. He could just hear Light now, ‘What...am I some old used car to be haggled over? Maybe he’d like to come kick the tires too.’ No, that would get him tossed out of the dressing room or a hairbrush thrown in his direction. He took a business card and scribbled out the number with a sigh-- 160,000 yen -- and placed it on the table. “The price is non-negotiable.”
L slid the business card across the table with the tip of his finger, eyes widening at the price. Damn. That is an assertive number. I like that he knows his worth. The smile on his face widened as he pocketed the card discreetly, glad that Watari seemed to be scouting the room instead of paying attention to him, and looked up at the manager. “That is amenable.” Hell, Watari had given him well over that amount, but he certainly wasn’t going to let this man know that. “Ahhh… So, how does this work?” I hope I didn’t misread that look, I hope Kira agrees, L thought, biting his lip to try and settle his nerves a little.
Watari eyed the two out of the corner of his eye and sighed, excusing himself from the table to find the washrooms.
Demegawa brightened up right away, grinning again as he nodded. “Excellent, excellent!” Now I have to convince Light. Just the thought of the wheedling he’d have to do made him pull his handkerchief out and dab his sweaty forehead. “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, sir. Once you pay, I’ll speak with Kira and someone will be along shortly to escort you to the back.” He coughed politely and tapped the table, waiting for the man to show that he actually had the money before Demegawa put himself in Light’s crosshairs.
The cash went into his jacket and he bowed once more, walking and then dashing to Light’s dressing room when he was out of sight of the table. The door was locked so he knocked hesitantly on the heavy door, calling, “Light! It’s Deme! Open up!”
Light had just stepped out of the shower and was toweling his hair when he heard the commotion at the door. He sighed and tossed his towel away, shrugging on a kimono-type robe before unlocking and opening the door. Can’t I have a moment’s peace from that man? “Come on in, Deme.” He stepped aside, drifting around the room to hang up tonight’s costume and put the wet towels away.
Demegawa bustled inside, a rotund, purple ball of energy, and smiling to try and hide his nerves. He did not want to return all that money burning a hole in his pocket. “Light! They loved you out there! That new routine---”
“Yes, I was there, remember?” Light lounged on a settee, picking up a stemmed glass of champagne and sipping from it. He’s buttering me up for something. He turned a slightly irritated look at Demegawa. “And where were your goons when I was getting manhandled, hmm? I had to take matters into my own hands.” He was trying not to laugh, sipping some more as he remembered that. Not that I minded handling it.
Demegawa cackled, well aware Light wasn’t bothered. “But they love it when you do that.”
“They do, don’t they?” Light giggled too, finally giving his manager a relaxed smile. “The tips are stacked over there, if that’s what you’re here about. Go ahead and take your cut.”
Demegawa gaped at the stacks of cash, tongue nearly lolling out, but brought himself back to the pressing matter. “Yessss--I mean no! I’ll get that later. I have a, uh...a customer who, um, would like a private dance.”
Light rolled his eyes as he poured more champagne. “No more private dances! I already told you! I don’t like being groped and writhing around on some nasty old man’s lap until they mess themselves.”
Demegawa panicked at the look on Light’s face, pulling out the wad of bills from his jacket. “He’s nice! He already paid! Look!” He flapped the yen in front of Light’s face, which was always a convincing tactic when it came to himself, at least.
Light huffed and tossed his hair, batting the money away and gearing up for what would probably be another fight. “It says right in my contract that private dances are at my own discretion. Not yours .”
Demegawa frowned and slapped most of the money down on Light’s vanity. He didn’t want to lose what would probably be a lucrative repeat customer. “I’ll let you keep 90% of it this time if you do it.” He usually took a 25% cut so that was pretty generous, he thought. “Pretty please?”
Light fixed him in a cold stare, ignoring the money beside him. “I want all of it. And all of what he tips me besides.”
His manager sputtered, face going red and then purple. “Light! Why are you so troublesome!! I made you a good offer!” Demegawa groaned and then hung his head in defeat, adding the rest of the money to the pile. It would be worth it in the long run. “Fine. Fine! But just this once.”
Light smiled sweetly, laughing on the inside at how easy it was to get his way with Deme. “Good. Now was that so hard?” He took his champagne over to his makeup vanity and started to primp, humming happily to himself. He didn’t look up as he applied some dramatic black eyeliner, but could hear Demegawa shuffling back to the door. “Have someone take him to my private room. And Deme?”
“Eh?”
“Make sure you use the cuffs this time.”
“Hmph.” Demegawa barely held himself back from slamming the door behind him as he stomped through the club to find one of his bodyguards. “Sota-san!” He pulled the man aside, pointing out the customer’s table, “See that guy, the younger one? Take him back to Kira’s room. Use the cuffs. And if he gives you any trouble about it, call me, got it?”
“Got it boss.” Sota went to check that everything was ready in Kira’s private room before collecting the client.
Once Watari came back, he slid into the seat across from L and stared pointedly, waiting until the young detective acknowledged him. When it never came, he took a sip of his whiskey and said over the music, “So. Did you do it?”
L finally fixed the man with a stare at that question, sipping noisily through his straw and not saying anything until he had finished his drink. Setting the glass aside, he said in an overly casual tone, “Is that a bad thing?”
“He’s playacting as Kira.”
“Watari, he’s a dancer.” A good one. The time L had already spent waiting had largely gone to replaying that routine in his head, or at least the parts he had liked best, over and over. A shiver went through him at the image of stiletto heels pressing into soft flesh, wondering if he might get the courage up to request something similar. Oh fuck. “I think I’ll be safe. No heart attacks tonight.” Maybe just self-induced ones.
Sota approached their table, giving the customers a polite bow. “I’ll escort you to the back, if you’re ready, sir.”
It was a relief when one of the bouncers came to collect him from this awkward conversation, and L rose from his chair with a small smile and a grateful, ‘Thank you,’ before following the man to the back. He could hear various songs coming from behind a few of the closed doors along the hallway, while other rooms seemed to be unoccupied, and when the man led him into the room at the end of the hallway, L looked around curiously. He had obviously never been in one of the private rooms at a strip club before, so he really had no idea what he’d been expecting. It certainly wasn’t black walls and soft mood lighting, or the comfortable-looking red furniture. The dancer’s pole was a little more along the lines of what he’d expected, and the gilded mirrors weren’t a surprise, either.
His eyes immediately went to the two doors, piquing his curiosity over where they lead, then strayed to the overstuffed chair in the middle of the room, a smile splitting his face as he drifted over to it. “So, uh, I suppose I just… wait in here?”
“Yes, sir. If you’ll sit down, please.” Sota stepped up behind the customer and waited until he had sat down before saying, “Place your hands on the arms of the chair, please, sir.”
“Uhhhh…” L did as he was asked, eyeing the bouncer curiously, mouth going dry when the man held up two sets of handcuffs. “Is that necessary?” When the man nodded, L held still, heart beginning to pound hard once again. The snap of cool metal around his wrists sent another shudder through him, and he had to lick his lips as the man disappeared back out the door they had come through. What did I just sign myself up for?