evowhisperer | IC Voicemail

*Cesar sees him overtake him, and he tights his grip on L just in time to keep the doppelganger's childish tugging from pulling the man right out of his arms. It's a grim, resentful resistance, and Cesar takes it even slower than he was walking before, having to lean back slightly.*

*Even as it's creased with irritation, there's also confusion. 'What it took to give us this time'? Did the doppelganger orchestrate this deliberately? .... What, did he just spent the last three or four days being as unpredictably insufferable as possible for the sake of keeping L unable to sleep?*

[It's a good thing that Cesar tightens his hold when he does, otherwise the double might well have yanked the chain taut and at least caused him to overbalance. L's doppel glowers, returning the resentment doublefold as Cesar slows his pace further.]

He won't wake up. Not anytime soon. Your options are to spend time with me, or to leave him with me, and I'm not happy with him right now. Or you, for that matter...

*Not happy with Cesar? Cesar hardly thinks the doppelganger is the one with the moral highground here, especially considering the bacon he brought.*

*Rather than bristle and affect outrage at the petulant complaint, Cesar sighs slowly, staring ahead as he follows. The doppelganger might be the only one awake right now, but he's also helpless. This is probably his first time without L's watchful (and admittedly likely confining) attention on him in weeks. This attention is dangerous and irritating, but he can't say he's completely unsympathetic, can he?*

[Not happy with anyone, judging by his stormy expression and bristly, hunched posture. He thinks that by all rights, it should be him in Cesar's arms right now, not someone who hasn't been working for it really hard these last two weeks. Hell, if it wasn't for him, L would still be giving Cesar blowjobs on the couch. It would have gotten boring and he would never let Cesar manhandle him the way his doppelganger has insisted on from the very start.

And yet here he is, hauling him upstairs when he's not even awake to enjoy it.

Cramming his hands in his pockets, he stalks up to the top of the staircase and starts toward the dormitory wing. There's a distinct smell of paint and plaster, and he kicks open the door to a particularly sterile room that looks custom-designed to make a prisoner uncomfortable. The walls are bone-white and undecorated, the bed has a mattress on it only because Tony insisted on delivering one, and the only personal effects are an ancient, tarnished menorah and stainless steel ashtray on an otherwise bare desk.]

Do you think you could convince the custodian to give you the keys to these handcuffs? He's got instructions not to listen to me, but if Lazarus' boyfriend asked for them he'd probably cough them up.

Edited 2015-03-30 23:59 (UTC)

*Cesar stands in the doorway for a few seconds, taken aback. His eyes travel slowly across the room's naked walls and unfriendly furnishings, before he finally snaps them towards L and shakes his head twice.*

*The room is small enough that he doesn't have to drag the doppelganger anywhere to do so, but the chain still twists around him as he heads towards the bed. Hopefully the mattress is soft, because his arms are tired enough after clutching him that the landing is less graceful than he'd originally intended.*

*Cesar turns his back on the doppelganger, arranging L into a reasonably comfortable-looking position. The pillow gets pushed further under L's head. Cesar straightens, wondering if it's worth it to find a blanket, or if he should really start thinking of an actual plan for how to keep L entertained without compromising himself or L.*

[Even if L's doppelganger is his precise opposite in a lot of ways, he has the man's icy stare down to a T. He watches frigidly as Cesar drops the sleeping man onto a mattress that is honestly so soft that it shouldn't have a place in this spartan environment. His limbs are limp and malleable as Cesar arranges them into something more natural and not quite so haphazard ragdoll, all while his doppelganger watches with silent reproach.]

There. It's done, he's in bed. Are you happy?

[Said more than a little snappishly.]

Do you ever wonder what he did for your copy? Probably like nothing I did for you. Just saying.

*It's tiny. He tries to hide it, and with his back turned he even has an unfair advantage.*

*It won't help him in the end, because this L has sharp eyes, and the truth is that yes, he had wondered. On the opposite side, he'd also wondered what kind of an experience it must have been to leave L sitting heartbroken across a hotel-room entryway, staring at him with eyes that burned and the words 'he was so good' whispered like he couldn't help them. Why did there have to be anything good at all about someone who was supposed to be his opposite? He hadn't had time to think so at the time, but it hurt afterwards, and he wishes it didn't: why had L been so sad that the real Cesar hadn't been the copy?*

*He's being unfair about this. Cesar's emotionally sophisticated enough to understand that it hadn't been about Cesar, but was probably about the trust that was being broken, and whatever other things were going on. Just because Cesar's feeling that his lungs had been full of glass and that finding L was the first step to taking out the pieces, doesn't mean that L had anything like the same sense.*

*Focus, Cesar. This L is jealous. He wants Cesar to remember everything he did for him. What is Cesar going to say to this?*

*He draws himself up and turns calmly, putting a loose fist to his chest. The hand makes a circle: 'Sorry'.*

Edited 2015-03-31 02:28 (UTC)

[L's doppelganger continues to watch him; every second Cesar's back is turned is one that he's staring harder with narrower eyes.]

I'll give you a hint. My guess is he's vanilla as they come, probably too scared to try anything worth doing. And that isn't you.

[He takes a few steps toward Cesar after he's turned, chain clinking as it gathers and drags along the ground.]

I'm sorry too. Sorry I couldn't replace him completely... he resisted and it was so obnoxious. You know how he is. Questions, endless questions, attention to irrelevant details when there are other things to be tended to. He's the type to parch an entire garden while he drowns one stupid weed. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who cares about his own health instead of trying to martyr himself constantly, who's always down to fuck and doesn't care about the notebooks you hide around your apartment?

*He'd rather not deal with either extreme, if he had his way. Cesar holds his ground, but he's taking the time to look around the room again: the doppelganger is getting a silent treatment. Cesar is deliberately trying not to think his words over in great detail, even though he is thinking about them. Wouldn't he rather someone who didn't let themselves be exhausted so much that he had to guard their limp body from the cause of the most fucked up relationship he's ever been in? Of course he would. Who wouldn't?*

*Cesar folds his arms without any visible cue or message to either man, studying the desk's ashtray.*

Edited 2015-04-01 17:37 (UTC)

[Both extremes are discouraging and frightening vignettes. As Cesar glances around the room, he'll notice little he hasn't already; it's seemingly stripped of personality and comfort, the only furniture aside from the desk and bed a metal folding chair. Two cigarette butts and perhaps a teaspoon of ash are in the metal tray, and the bottom drawer of the desk is just slightly ajar. L's doppel notices it, nudging it shut with his foot, and its contents rattle like maracas as he does so.

The chain clinks softly as he leans against Cesar's side, attempting to manually drape the other's man around his narrows shoulders.]

I can be pretty selfish, but at least you know what I want and you're completely free to give it to me. That's never been a problem. You don't have to admit that I'm the better on in every way, but in that way, I win objectively.

*Cesar's arm is compliant, and for a long second his appeasement stance runs through and through: he stays where he is, holding the doppelganger to him and letting him take as much from the closeness as he can. He even turns towards him, mouth settling into a familiar line.*

*Then his eyes sharpen, and it's as though he's waking up. His arm jerks, and he pushes L back by the shoulder, stepping further away. What is he thinking? This isn't like when he still thought this was the real L. He's doesn't need to try to make this work when this isn't even the original. He doesn't owe him anything.*

*Since when did he have to 'try to make it work' with the original? The thought strikes him with the abruptness of a falling safe. They'd been intimate, sure, but to deserve this much commitment--? They'd been drunk. There had never been any commitment, so why has he even been trying this hard?*

*Cesar takes another step back, pinching the bridge of his nose as a sharp ache forms between his eyes. If he leaves, what will really happen? What would it matter even after those consequences? Does anything Cesar does for L matter, when nothing he can do would ever make up for past crimes?*

{Let's not get into this right now.}

*He's radiating a sense of 'do not touch', and keeps looking back and forth between Ls.*

[For a little while, anyway, it's exactly what the doppelganger wants, and he soaks it up, pressing his angular body against Cesar's more solid one. He peers up expectantly when Cesar turns toward him, expecting at least a kiss, but then he's being rejected, pushed away in a way that makes him instinctively start to cling. His hands slip away at the shoulder shove, which must be the opposite of affection. It stings. He narrows his eyes, and then abruptly, his features even out into placid, deliberate indifference,]

Mm. I can see you want your space. That's fine. I'm the one who understands that, remember?

[He turns, climbing onto the bed with his counterpart. For the first time, the original stirs, half-raises his arm, but it's like the doppelganger said: it really seems like he can't wake up, not yet and not fully. The copy gently takes his wrist, catching it mid-motion as his own fingers search for a pulse point. Each touch and gesture is slow and delicate, and somehow it probably raises more alarm bells than anything blatantly aggressive could.]

It's not like you have to be here for me to help you out with your problems, even if you seem to have some trouble admitting what those are.

*Watching the doppelganger catch the original's wrist and search it is strangely offensive. The man's scars are exposed at this angle, and the copy is handling him like an object. There's something wrong about the way L lifted that arm--he's not exactly awake, but he's trying to be, isn't he? The doppelganger's lack of concern is also sounding alarm bells. Is there something more going on than a severe case of exhaustion?*

{What do you mean?}

*L would never be this subtle. Could the doppelganger be oblivious to what he seems to be implying? No, Cesar doesn't think he is, but he wants to believe his suspicions even less. For the first time since Cesar's arrival the doppelganger has him riveted, and he follows the copy's hands with his eyes.*

Edited 2015-04-02 07:33 (UTC)

[The doppelganger notices that he has Cesar's attention, and there's a spark of connection. It's what he wanted, and he takes his time reveling in it. His thumb finds the pulse point and lingers there as he visibly contemplates the heartbeat of his original.]

I mean nothing at all, Cesar. Even if I did, let's not get into that right now; you're talking like someone with places to be, and I wouldn't want to keep you from them.

[I always wanted to keep you from them.]

{What will you do if I go?}

*There's no point in denying that he wanted to leave, since it was stamped all over his face. Hell, if he weren't seeing with his own eyes just how helpless L was right now he might even still be considering it. What does the doppelganger have planned?*

*Cesar takes a step or so closer to the bed, trying to think of what to do. Push the doppelganger away from the copy? He's not doing anything right now, and it's not as though he could take him further than just a few feet. Let him continue touching his original, and only step in if things start getting sexual or dangerous in nature? ... The thought feels wrong. Just watching the copy now feels wrong, though he can't put words to why.*

So suspicious. I wonder what reason I've ever given you for it...

[Just lying about everything since I popped into existence. He has the upper hand here, though, and knows it. Chained to his unconscious counterpart, he has all the power over this situation, effectively holding the real L hostage.]

Don't worry. I'm sure I'll find some way to entertain myself. His heart rate's faster than it was an hour ago, so he'll probably wake up pretty soon. Won't that be fun?

[Sarcasm in spades, there, but it's a little subtler than this doppelganger's really prone to demonstrating.]

*Cesar pinches the bridge of his nose again, frowning deeply.*

{... Are you planning to do something to him if I go?}

*Dropping all subtlety, are we? He's not going to trust any answer he gets that isn't a 'yes', so unless L actually comes forward with an explanation he can tolerate, the question is useless.*

There you go... mixing us up again, but it's cute that you think I actually plan to do anything.

[Light, airy laughter.]

You should really know by now that I pretty much do whatever I feel like, Cesar.

[He creeps closer, brushing the hair back from his own face as he leans down and presses his ear against Lazarus' chest.]

He is having some exciting dreams.

*Cesar's gut clenches at the sight of the doppelganger's smiling face pressed next to L's heart. It's like the light touch at the man's wrist, and the closeness that climbing into bed with him has already: there's something wrong about it. L is too helpless to threaten to break his copy's fingers, let alone protest at all. It doesn't have to be sexual contact for it to be unwanted, and it's already far more than Cesar knows L would want. L is completely and absolutely at the doppelganger's mercy.*

*It's a display of power. Not over Cesar, but over L--and as long as Cesar cares about what happens to L, that means power over Cesar, doesn't it?*

{You always feel like having sex. Please get off the bed and stop touching him, L--you know as well as I do that if he were awake he wouldn't allow this.}

[The copy is physically close to his counterpart, ear pressed against a beating heart and a shallowly rising and falling chest, but his eyes are fixed wholly on Cesar.]

You know what?

[Whether Cesar knows or not, he's going to tell him.]

I've realized something. It's not about sex, at all. I mean, it is, but there's so much more to it than just fucking. It's about making people do what I want... whether you're coming... or he's going... I will it.

[He mimics the heartbeat under his breath. Pa-pah. Pa-pah. Pa-pah.]

*There's a lurch in Cesar's gut that confirms what the doppelganger already knows. It's the hold the smaller man has had on him for weeks; It's the excuses Cesar made for him in his head, the burning drinks that helped him ignore what he wanted to, and lusty passion that drew him far enough to cross lines before he'd realized it--he's been dancing like a marionette under his touch this whole time, and he feels that hand now more than ever.*

*He's gotten really messed up, hasn't he?*

*Even now his blood can't decide if it wants to be hot or cold, and instead of righteously angry he's just sick and tangled up. He wants to push the doppelganger off of L, tie him to a chair or pin him to the floor in ways he knows he can manage from experience. What then, though? Will he leave him there? Will the doppelganger talk his way out of it like he talks his way out of everything? Will doing this just create even more openings for this farce of L to torment him, pulling him close and enjoying every reaction like it's some kind of drug?*

*Cesar's hands open and close at his sides, but he doesn't step forward yet.*

["Messed up" is certainly one way to put it, and one that the doppelganger would only be gleeful to accept and elaborate on. He's very proud of the mess he made over those weeks, and of the lives he interrupted so that he could carve his own demented legacy into them.

The real L's eyes half-open; he's not awake, but again, it seems like he's trying to shake the unnaturally heavy sleep he's under. His doppelganger lifts his head, and a hand slides up the sleeping man's chest, then his neck, and then rests against his nose and mouth. Gradually, and almost tenderly, the doppelganger presses down, languidly leaning into the motion, restricting airflow as he casually rides out the vague struggling of someone who might be dreaming of drowning.]

*Hands appear out of nowhere and seize the the man by the shoulders, yanking him back. Cesar doesn't just stop once he's out of immediate reach, but bodily hauls him off the bed, dragging him as far as the handcuff's chain will allow. How is it that L and his copy are the only people he's manhandled like this in years? Blood pounds in his ears, and if he weren't gripping him so tightly he'd be shaking.*

*Both his arms are circled around L's chest like comparative bands of steel. His own chest is pressed against L's back, and in this surge of motion there's no time spent worrying about how 'L' might transform this into something sexual: is the real L okay? Cesar wants to call over to him, but he can't even sign this way. Words bubble up and clamor at his throat, but opening his mouth is like trying to walk on air, and they fall lifeless without a sound.*

*Cesar turns abruptly, pushing L against the desk. He opens a drawer, and then another, searching for tape, rope, paperclips--anything.*

Edited 2015-04-03 06:28 (UTC)

[Whether or not the doppelganger would actually have let it go far enough to endanger L's life is something that'll never be proven; Cesar's acted quickly, quicker than even the doppelganger expected, and he's being hauled away from his squirming and struggling counterpart abruptly. He laughs indulgently as the chain pulls taut, pressing his back flush against Cesar and leaning into the source of the tight grip.]

Ha! That's more like it!

[He continues to laugh as Cesar shoves him against the desk, hard enough to bruise but certainly not enough to trouble the doppelganger. As Cesar goes through the drawers, he reaches out to stroke at his hair, his shoulder, anything he can reach.

The drawers seem a little more lived-in and realistic than the horribly bare and clean room. A pair of scissors, some rubber bands, stationary, a checkbook, a marble chess set, a gold pocketwatch with an inscription in Russian and the year 1923 inscribed on it, a journal written in what reads as complete nonsense but is actually a complicated cipher. The bottom drawer, the one L's doppelganger nudged shut with his foot, contains various papers from doctors' offices and about six prescription pill bottles. One seems to have been opened and tossed back in a hurry, and if the small blue pills aren't instantly recognizable as Xanax, the clearly labeled bottle certainly is.]

I can't help that you make me do bad things, Cesar.

*There's not really any way Cesar can be out of reach, and he's racing through the search in hopes of ending this quickly. He jerks open the drawer with the pills, and then pushes it back closed, finding nothing of use--and then he yanks it back open again halfway through reaching for another drawer, snatching the bottle up.*

*Xanax. Xanax. Cesar's grip on the bottle turns temporarily white-knuckled, and he looks at L on the bed, seeing half-open eyes and that stirring that's not quite coordinated enough to actually be wakeful. Cesar shakes the bottle at the L in his arms, like someone showing a puppy a chewed up shoe--and what, did he expect an apology? He throws the bottle back in the drawer in disgust, gritting his teeth. The sign for 'asshole' is one-handed. Cesar makes use of this fact before switching arms, glancing through the desk's other side's drawers.*

*He finds nothing in the desk that will hold another human being captive. He's alone, with one man that needs protecting and another that's making his skin crawl. What's he going to do?*

*The silence spirals in on itself, and he's completely at a loss. Will he just stand there and hold L's copy until the real one wakes up? Will he tie him up in a blanket, hoping it doesn't just turn into one frustrating game of retying the knots every time the man works himself free--*

*Cesar's gaze sharpens on L, and his mind works through the sight of him very, very carefully. L can't move. L is... out of the picture... He moves back to the desk and pulls that bottom drawer open again, taking out the bottle. Now he actually looks at it, pouring over the label. L's doppelganger is kept in place with one hand between his shoulder blades; he hasn't needed to actually add his weight, yet, and is hoping he won't have to.*

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