10BB: I don't own anything that has to do with Death Note. If I did, fuck, it would've been full of Yaoi (mainly L/Light, Matt/Mello, and Beyond/Near - These are Seme/Uke pairings, everyone!). So, since it isn't, I don't. Get it? Got it? Good. Enjoy the Mikami/Light smut-ish-ness.
I can never regret what I have done. All the murders I have committed, all of the lives I have stolen...they were all stolen and committed for a reason. A reason, a person. He is that reason, he is that person. He was the reason I followed that man home that night. That man who dared to speak to him, who dared to kiss him, who tried to love him...
He can never love anyone but me. He has always loved me. No one can tell me any different, because I know: he loves me. He is someone I would do anything for. He is God.
I know that I am not worthy to be near him, and yet I stay near him because he is the man - the deity - that makes this world a brighter place. He is to be the God of the New World, the one that will rise from the ashes of this filth-encrusted place. We humans do not deserve to be in his presence, and yet he graces us with his life and his concern daily. He cares enough about us to kill the creatures that try to take over our world, he cleanses us!
He...Kira...God.
Teru Mikami bent over the Death Note (the Bible, the one God gifted him with), pen in hand. His eyes seemed to glow red (another gift from God, given indirectly through the rotting god of the Shinigami world) as he wrote down the names of criminals, whispering the word "Delete, delete, delete," repeatedly under his breath. He needed to clean this world, to make it perfect for his God, the most perfect being in the world: Light Yagami. Kira.
God.
Again and again, with every swipe of the pen against paper, the word "delete" was murmured, only occassionally followed by the strangest form of laughter, like the kind you would hear from a madman. Maybe Teru Mikami was already mad, and had yet to realize it. But that couldn't be. He was Teru Mikami, the Right Hand of God; he could not be insane. If he admitted to being insane, that would be the same thing as admitting that God was insane, and God was no such thing: God was perfect. He was God,and couldn't be anything less.
I will serve you...
The pen stilled at a quater past four. Teru let his black eyes flicker over to his alarm clock, seeing the red LED lights show the letters. Time for bed. He needed to rest, to be able to perform at full capacity for God. God needed him to be perfect, like God was, himself.
Perfect. Light Yagami was perfection.
The prosecutor sighed as he closed the slim black notebook that rested on his desk, setting the pen down beside it. He would have to start deleting more criminals later: he wouldn't be able to function very well with such little sleep. He had his job to think of, as well, but that was secondary: to him, Godalways came first.
God always comes first... The thought tugged on Mikami's subconcious as he started to undress, looking at the pinstriped pajamas that were resting at the foot of his bed, the ones he would momentarily be changing into. I wonder if he really would be coming first...
The black haired man shook such thoughts away, his shoulder-length tresses falling into his field of vision. That was not the way for the Right Hand of God to behave, and it was not the thoughts one should have of God. God was far too perfect for such things, and besides, why would God want someone like him? But, oh, how Mikami wanted him to want him. The thoughts of God in his bed, of God taking him, of God touching him...
God pressed him up against the wall, not caring to be sweet or gentle. The man's brown hair, like honey-in-shadows, was the only thing that Mikami could see, for he had his face ducked and he was murmuring, his voice so soft and silky-smooth: "Mikami...you want me, don't you? You want me to fuck you...you want your God inside of you..."
"Y-yes..." He stutters out, surprised he can even give that much of a response. "P-please...G-god, take me. Please, God...my God..."
Light Yagami smiles against Mikami's pale skin and the movement makes the prosecutor shudder. Here it is, the moment he's been waiting for: the moment when his God will say that he will take him and make him completely whole...
Teru pulls himself from his daydream and blinks, looking about. He had stilled when he was undoing his shirt, his thoughts causing him to forget the motions. With a sigh he completes the chore and shrugs his shirt off, feeling it fall from his skin toward the floor. His feet are already bare, as is customary in the home, so his hands go now to the thick leather belt with the silver buckle. Long, thin fingers are quick to undo the belt, just as they are quick to undo the button that helps to hold his trousers up. It's when they go to undo the zipper that they encounter the problem: it seems that his previous daydream was enough to cause a problem to develop. Teru blushes, embarrassed by his body's reaction, but also intrigued. After all, he has made it no secret that he does love his God, though he believes himself completely unworthy to be the man's lover, and this is a natural reaction to being in love. Daydreams, wet dreams, mastrubating to the person he desires but knows he cannot have...Teru has had and done all of these, and though he feels embarrassed every time, he cannot say that what he feels is wrong.To him, it is just an embarrassment, but also something that shows how he feels.
A throb in his loins tears all thoughts away from embarrassment, and the man knows that this problem will not go away on its own: he will need to stimulate himself. Though that brings another flush to pale cheeks, Mikami is excited: he adores jacking off to the thought of his God, to the thought of the man touching him. He undoes the zipper and pulls his pants down and off, only to allow his boxers to follow second afterwards. He is now bare, with a hard erection standing stiff and proud against his stomach. His hand reaches out and grips around the base, bringing a soft gasp from the man; his hand (no, not his hand, but God'shand) starts to move up slowly, pushing the foreskin with it. Oh, how good that feels.
God...Mikami moans in his mind as he tries to affix a picture of Light Yagami in his mind, of the man (deity) who will make this world a bright and shining utopia. He imagines that caramel skin, those delicious eyes like melting amber, that hair like honey-in-shadow, just as it was in his dream. "Oh, God..."
His hand reaches the head of his erection, where it decides to give the most attention: the thumb covers the slit and starts to play with the precum that is already leaking from the man's body, while the other fingers tease the large vein that runs along the underside of Mikami's dick. He spreads his legs and groans aloud, pushing forward. He finds that he needs to brace himself and he stumbles backwards until he is against the wall, which he imagines to be the chest of his God. He closes his eyes and thinks only of God as his hand moves down, the thumb still at the head of his dick, tightening as it goes and twisting the tiniest bit. A low sound, like an animal that has just discovered a great pleasure, escapes Teru's lips and he bites down, trying to contain them. He cannot let God know how much this pleases him...
God's hand is wrapped around his erection and he arches forward into it, body squirming as he presses his shoulders and upper back against his God's - against Kira's chest - in order to get more leverage. The brunette male behind him chuckles into his ear, his fingers still teasing the pulsing flesh in his hands. "You like this, Mikami? You enjoy having my hand on your dick, don't you?"
The most the prosecutor can do is moan and nod. God has reduced his Right Hand, the Fourth Kira, into a thrashing and needy human being, and only with his own hand has he done this. Mikami would feel embarrassed if he could feel anything other than lust and need for God, the deity who has saved this dying world. "Yuh-yes...Yes, God...i-it is both an h-honor and a pl-pleasure..."
Another laugh and he feels a tongue running along the shell of his ear, and knowing that it is Kira's tongue drives him to thrusting again, trying to arch his back so that his entire member is resting in Kami's hand. However, Kami bites and he stills, whimpering in pain. He has displeased his God, something he has never wished to do before. His body stills, tensing in preparation for the pain that might come, only to relax again when Kami begins the ministrations on his erection once more: up, down, twist and tease, make him want it.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" And now there is a hand at his rear and that hand is slowly moving toward his entrance. "You want more, though, don't you? You want me inside...you want it down here..."
How could he disagree? This was the very thing he had wanted forever: God, touching him like this. He had never wanted anything more, and he felt himself give a cry when the first finger entered his body. It didn't hurt, not truthfully: it was more of a discomforting feeling than an aching one. He wanted to squirm, but God held him in place, whispering soft words against his skin as his lips travelled from his ear to his neck. "Shh, Teru...don't fight it...don't move..."
Slowly, the finger started to move, just shoving in slightly. As Mikami had thought before, it didn't hurt, but it was definitely something he wasn't used to. It took all of his concentration to follow God's orders and not squirm. But knowing that there was something inside of him definitely made the man uncomfortable. "G-God..."
"Shh, Mikami. You don't want to disobey your God, do you? If you want me to be happy, Mikami, you will be quiet and do as I say."
That caused the black-haired man to be silenced, and behind his glasses his eyes closed. God was right: if he wanted this, then Teru had to be a good servant and give it to him, no matter the personal cost. The lips that had just told him to silence his words smiled, pressing more kisses to his flesh as God's hands teased him, that finger pushing in further, the other hand tightening around his erection. Suddenly, flashes of white shone across Teru's vision and the man cried out, arching into God's hand. That sensation...that feeling...his God was giving it all to him...
"Aaahn!" Teru Mikami screamed as he arched forward, into his own hand, feeling his knees buckling as jets of cum escaped. There wasn't an abnormal amount for an orgasm, but the liquid fell through his fingers and onto the carpeted floor - he would have to get that cleaned up, soon, before it stained, and he trembled from the weightless-ness that accompanied it. Soon he was on his knees on the floor, his head tilted back as he shouted out the name of the man who had made this all possible for him, "Kira-sama!"
Every night, as I open up the Death Note (my Bible), I think about the man who has given me this ability, the ability to make the world good for him. I think about my God, and I smile as I write down the names of those who must die for him to reign, my prayer of "Delete" escaping me. Because, for my God to reign, all the evil must be eliminated. Then, and only then, will I be good enough for my fantasies to become a reality. Only then will I be good enough for God.