Unexpected.

As a little explanation, this started off as a one-shot, but she had a huge brain wave and it has now developed into a smaller fanfiction and that is why it moves fairly quickly in the second chapter (The first chapter and this - with a few changes - were the body of the original oneshot).

ThankYou for the reviews so far, they are very much appreciated.

Chapter 2

Implementation.


It should be easy, catching Ryuuzaki without the others around.

It was just a matter of waiting.

Unfortunately, he was not cut out for waiting - he never had been - so those few hours until the other officers had said their sleepy goodnights and retired very late in the evening (or early in the morning, depending on which way you looked at it), seemed like an absolute eternity.

He sat there on the maroon-ish sofa at the large, lowly slung wooden table, attempting to concentrate on the ever growing pile of paper in front of him, but instead his mind kept running through the plan, which he had taken to calling it, again and again.

To his defense, he had only come up with the plan the day before yesterday, but it had been in his mind for a while in the form on half conjured fantasies and vague images. Upon the coherent formulation of all of these ideas in to one large and woven together design and into an almost reality, it was hard to stop them from just circulating around and around in his head.

He was distracted, to say the least.

After numerous queries in regards to his health and state of mind, all of which were brushed off with an airy wave of his hand and a nervous laugh, Matsuda pretended to write notes, all the while thinking about what was going to occur this evening and fidgeting worriedly with the pen held in his right hand, while his left was frequently wiped on the leg of his slacks.

His acting was passable enough to relax the mild concerns of his workmates, who went back to pretending he did not exist.

For once, it didn’t bother him.

Ignoring the fact that hunching over a table that only came to his knee was giving him a shocking backache, Matsuda waited impatiently for everyone to just get the hell out of there.

Finally, after the last man left - Matsuda didn't really notice who, nor did he care - he knew that it was now or never.

Unfortunately, he had spent more time worrying about how plan could go wrong (And the possibilities of the idea itself), that he had spent little time actually formulating the exact course of action he was going to follow when he caught the detective alone; something which he was now regretting.

What the hell was he going to say?

Matsuda went to stand from the couch that was the colour of bruised plum on which he was perched, his eyes fixed upon the slender back slouching in its seat ahead of him. To the right of the white clad man, a brunet was absently perusing a pile of papers, very obviously disinterested in them.

Light was with still him?

Oh right, the handcuffs.

That was something he should have thought of. Well, it couldn't be helped, he supposed. He wouldn’t let it deter him.

Adamant that his pounding heart could be heard by the other two, he pushed out his chair as noiselessly as he could muster, anxious not to let them know he was still there.

Well, not yet anyway.

"Yes Matsuda?" Ryuuzaki's soft voice queried.

Damn.

"Ohh. Uhh...h-hey, Ryuuzaki," Matsuda sputtered as eloquently as he could muster.

Ryuuzaki’s voice always left him a little surprised. Not just because of its surprisingly gentle baritone, but the fact that it had an almost sensual feel that Ryuuzaki seemed completely oblivious of.

Light looked up in surprise.

Matsuda was relieved that he had at least he had managed to speak up on somebody.

The chair to the left swivelled around, revealing a distinctly pale young man with wild hair and eyes as black and as round as coal who had been, if the officer wasn’t mistaken, building a pyramid out of sugar cubes before he had been interrupted.

"What can we do for you at this hour of the evening, Matsuda?" He was always so softly spoken, even if his words were often as blunt as baseball bat.

For once it did nothing to calm Matsuda's nerves.

There was an enormous lump in his throat that he couldn't quite dislodge, making it difficult to speak, and he could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck, dampening the collar of the nice shirt he had specifically put on for the occasion.

He couldn't seize up now, not after all of his planning
.
He had to do this!

He took a deep breath, and spoke with a quiver, hoping desperately that Ryuuzaki did not pick up on it even as he knew there was no possibility that he wouldn’t.

"I have been thinking, you know, about everything," Matsuda started, fidgeting nervously.
Oh, that was a fantastic start, He snapped in his own mind, disgusted; You sound really confident.
Exasperated at himself and as scared as hell, he continued, "I don't seem to be doing much; and nobody seems to take me seriously."

Ryuuzaki opened his mouth to speak around the thumb he had jammed in it, but Matsuda raised his hand in an appeal for silence, walking towards him on awkward feet.

"Please, let me finish!" He begged, and Ryuuzaki nodded, his thumb leaving his lips, choosing instead to follow the rest of his hand in wrapping around his slender calves.
It probably would have been peculiar if it didn't.

Light was watching the exchange with interest, but too said nothing.

Matsuda ceased his steps once he was scant inches from the detective's slender toes. He looked down at the face turned up to him.

Really, those bland eyes were such a distraction.

"I was thinking that you guys are right. I really am pretty useless to this investigation. All I am really doing here is making everyone cups of coffee, and getting yelled at for saying stupid things. I am not doing anything helpful and it's driving me crazy."

"...Matsuda," Ryuuzaki began, and his voice sounded almost…regretful?

"So," He overrode him, knowing that if he was stopped now, if he didn't say it now he never would, that he would make up some inane excuse, some dull and stupid explanation, and the plan in his head would be that, just a plan, and regret: a reinforcement of his own cowardice, and it was this thought that spurred him on.

"I was wondering what I could possibly do to help, and I realised something. That I can help, in a way. In a way that not even somebody like Light or the Chief can."

That did it: Ryuuzaki's dull eyes held a glimmer of interest.

"And how is that, Matsuda?"

This was it, he couldn't hesitate now.

His heart was thudding in his chest as he swooped down and caught the detective's lips in a gentle kiss.

Light made a strangled noise.

He could feel the young man stiffen beneath him but he didn’t pull away, which Matsuda took as a good sign.
Ignoring Light, Matsuda deepened the kiss cautiously, slowly sliding his tongue across Ryuuzaki's plump lower lip. The mouth beneath his opened slightly, allowing the older man entrance, which he accepted gladly and his tongue slipped inside almost eagerly, delicately tracing the contours of lip, tongue and teeth.

His lips were softer than he thought they would be, almost feminine, and Matsuda could taste tea and sweetness, and he was not really surprised, but a little disappointed all the same.

The detective sat calmly, permitting his mouth to be delicately plundered, but made no move of his own. However, the older man could have sworn he heard - nay felt - his breath catch slightly against him.

After what seemed like an age, Matsuda ended the kiss, pulling away from the detective beneath him. He stood there, half leant over and one hand braced on his knee, struggling to still his thundering heart.

"I can give you that, and everything else that comes with it," he said finally, his voice still shaky, but now for a different reason. "If you don't want it, tell me now, and we will pretend this never happened. But I promise you, you will be missing out."

He spoke with a confidence that wasn't there.

Ryuuzaki said nothing, merely examining the clearly nervous man in front of him.

And he was; his palms were slick, his gut was tight and it seemed as if he just couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

He stared at him for what seemed like forever, his eyes travelling over the older brunet's form with an unreadable expression.

Matsuda could barely contain the roiling of his insides as those intense eyes bored through him. Even his non existent confidence was leaving him in droves.

Without warning, the detective and his chair spun around rather squeakily and Ryuuzaki tapped his finger on the intercom button.

"Watari," He spoke, and Matsuda's stomach plummeted.

"Yes Sir?" The old gentleman's voice echoed over the loud speaker.

Ryuuzaki hesitated slightly before speaking. "You are dismissed for the rest of the evening, Watari. I shall contact you if I require anything."

"Understood."

There was another click as the intercom was switched off.

Matsuda couldn't hide the grin that crept across his face, or the flush of victory that washed through him as the dark haired man swung the chair back to face him.

"So what was this that Matsuda desired to give me?" The younger man's tone was almost playful, and Matsuda's smile widened as he again lowered his mouth to again capture Ryuuzaki's.

"I don't want to be privy to this!" Light, whom Matsuda had actually forgotten about, spluttered with indignation.

He jerked his face up to be greeted with the sight of an obviously very uncomfortable teenager tethered by the wrist to a chain he had pulled taut in an effort to remove himself as far as he could from the situation that he had been presented with.

He was standing half behind his chair, as if it could protect him.

Long fingers in the brunet's hair quickly distracted him as they pulled him back down to Ryuuzaki, and his face was pressed firmly against the slender, pale neck.
Not being one to miss a point (Well, in this case), Matsuda opened his mouth and went to work at the junction of shoulder and neck, licking little circles and worrying it gently with his teeth.

He figured that L would be the one to sort out Light.

He felt the detective turn his head, presumably to face the disgruntled brunette, and distinctly heard him say; "Perhaps Light should have thought of that before he agreed to become chained to me in order to prove his innocence."

"How did I know that something like this would happen?" Light sounded angry.

"There was a three percent chance of something like this occurring: Light should have taken that into account."

Matsuda migrated north, from the neck up to the bottom of the jaw, trailing his lips it before slowly moving to the shell of the detective's ear, tracing it with his tongue and breathing softly in to it. He was rewarded with a slight tug on his hair as the fingers wrapped in it curled.

"Please unlock me from the handcuffs so I can go upstairs," the adolescent begged.

"Then I could not monitor Light's actions," Ryuuzaki pointed out.

"You can watch the video feed later." Light returned.

"Indeed then it could be too late, especially seeming as I have nobody to monitor the screens while I am busy."

"Please Ryuuzaki, let me leave."

"No," His tone was flat. There was an outraged silence.

Matsuda used this moment to his advantage and wrapped his lips around a pale earlobe and tugged.

He assumed from the silence that L had won the altercation.

He could not help the slightly smug smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he suckled on Ryuuzaki's ear lobe.

"Light could join in, if he would like." He heard the amusement and the slight hopefulness that probably only he could hear that in Ryuuzaki's voice even as a small sense of indignation ruffled him at the assumption that he would not protest.
Although he knew he wouldn’t.

"I am not homosexual Ryuuzaki," Light's voice was cold.

"Engaging in homoerotic activities does not necessarily make one homosexual, Light."

The teen remained stubbornly silent after that.

Matsuda took advantage this to capture L's mouth once again, and to his delight, this time he was met with a response. A tongue crept slowly in to his mouth, even as his sought its own way in to the other’s.

He was explored with the same thoroughness that Ryuuzaki gave to all of the tasks at hand. The fingers that were still in his hair tightened to the point that they were almost painful, but Matsuda didn't mind too much.

His tongue caressed the delicate flesh of Ryuuzaki's mouth, stroking softly, flicking against his teeth and sliding against the roof gently.

The detective gasped almost inaudibly and wrapped his other arm around Matsuda's neck, his tongue fighting harder for dominance over the older man, who gladly acquiesced.

Lips still locked, the older man slipped his right hand beneath the hem of the other man's white shirt, sliding his fingertips against the almost unnaturally soft skin of his side, and slowly worked his way up to his chest.

He felt Ryuuzaki shiver slightly, and he downright gasped as Matsuda found an already hard nipple and rolled it between his fingers.

The detective broke the kiss and turned his head, exposing his slender neck, which was eagerly ravaged even as his nipple was pinched and pulled, pulling small inaudible noises from the black haired man.

A sudden movement from below him nearly threw Matsuda off balance.

The older man pulled away and glanced down. To his mild surprise, the dark haired man's knees were no longer sitting at chest level; one leg had been lowered, foot pressed on the floor, and his thighs were spread in a fashion that made Ryuuzaki look so wanton that Matsuda attacked his mouth again.

The raven haired man grabbed Matsuda's free hand and pulled it down to his groin, pressing it pointedly against the hard flesh that was encased by the rough fabric of his jeans.

Such a bold move took Matsuda by surprise.

He hadn’t anticipated Ryuuzaki to be such a demanding lover. Images of a shy, retiring (and possible blushing) L came to mind briefly, but they were quickly destroyed when a sharp tug in his hair brought him back to the task at hand (No pun intended): apparently stopping was not an option.

He pressed his hand down firmly and rubbed, and Ryuuzaki arched his hips shamelessly into Matsuda’s caresses.

Lust pooled in the older man’s abdomen, and he knew that he didn’t want to stop, that he couldn’t, even if Kira himself were to burst in to the room and begin doing gymnastics.

Ryuuzaki was artless in his desire, making no attempt to disguise his reactions or his enjoyment. He was almost…childish in the simple pleasure he took from Matsuda, and it was absolutely intoxicating.

Black hair slid off a pale face as L threw his head back when the hand at his groin deepened its strokes. The kiss broken, Matsuda instead took the opportunity to ravage the exposed column of throat that was conveniently at mouth level.

A slender hand moved from around his neck, trailing down his back and clenching in the shirt tucked in to the grey slacks belted around his hips, pulling it upwards out of its fabric confinement.

The hand was cool as it slipped underneath the cotton shirt, tracing patterns across sensitive ribs and stomach in a gentle manner that seemed so completely at odds with the harsh hand that was trying its darnedest to rip out of a chunk of Matsuda’s dark hair.

It tickled, but it felt so good Matsuda didn’t know whether he wanted to squirm and push the hand away or moan loudly and beg for more, so he settled for moving the hand that was abusing Ryuuzaki’s left nipple southwards, towards the button on his jeans.

He paused in the ministrations of his right hand briefly to undo the button (he had never managed to be able to pull off doing it with one hand), and pull down the zip with an audible sound.

The position was an awkward one at best, the angle making it difficult to slip his hand inside the opening, but Matsuda managed all the same; his wrist bent at an odd angle and restricted in its movements, but he didn’t care, and judging from the sounds he was making, neither did L.

He noisily sucked on the slender neck and half exposed shoulder while he did his best to rub L’s cock through the flimsy cotton of his underwear, pushing the heel of his palm into the dampening spot beneath, leaning over Ryuuzaki with his left hand bracing against the back of the chair so he didn’t fall on top of him.

He was desperate for those fingers again, fingers that had ceased their tickling when Matsuda had put his hand inside L’s pants and instead now dug into his hip at each separate stroke while the other clasped his neck with a lustful kind of desperation that made Matsuda so hot that he just wanted to tear off the other man’s clothes right then and let him fuck him until he passed out.

But no, he couldn’t do that, he didn’t know how far Ryuuzaki was willing to take this, how far he had gone before, and it was only this thought that stopped the older man from throwing himself on the floor with his legs spread and begging the other to fuck him, for god’s sake!

This was why he settled with petting, and kissing, letting the man with black hair call the shots, so to speak, because although it was he who had began this, it was not up to him, because it never was up to him, and he really didn’t mind.

He was being useful, he was being helpful, so all in all, this was good, even though he wasn’t being touched, and he really didn’t want it to end.

And so, when Ryuuzaki shifted, bracing his other foot on the floor and extracting both hands from Matsuda so that he could shuck his jeans off, the noise of the chain dangling off of his right wrist a temporary distraction as it clunked inelegantly against the ugly metal chair, Matsuda sunk to his knees happily and breathed hotly against L’s arousal through his light grey underwear.

A soft curse from about ten feet away brought him pause.

Light must have glanced over again.

Taking a leaf out of L’s book and just ignoring him, Matsuda twined his fingers in the fabric and peeled them downwards, tugging insistently until L seemed to get the point and lifted his hips again.

Effectively releasing the cock from its confines, Matsuda let the cotton pool at L’s bony ankles and gave L his full attention.

Well, a certain part of his anatomy anyway.

He breathed on it again with warm breath, and stuck his tongue out and almost shyly licked the head, just under the slit.

He did it again, and then swirled all around it as if it were a lolly the man was so fond of; lapping up the tiny bead of pre come that oozed out. He grasped it at the base and, wrapping his lips around the tip, he moved slowly down until his lips met his fingers, and swept his tongue along the shaft clasped in his mouth. He skimmed back up again, his tongue never ceasing to move in its strokes, and suckled on the head gently, twirling his tongue round and round, dipping in to the opening and lapping at it as if he were a pet.

L wasn’t one to moan and grunt, but his breath hitched when Matsuda pressed the tip of his tongue firmly on the underside, near his frenum, and Matsuda took that to mean it was a good thing, so he kept the muscle pointed and firm and pressed and poked and around the head, making its caresses hard and rough, and L’s breathing grew less controlled, and Matsuda, growing bored, moved his hand along the shaft while he ravenously suckled on the head.

Ryuuzaki did moan then, and he tangled his hands in Matsuda’s hair and pushed his head down further, trying to get him to take his cock further in his mouth. The officer did, despite the fact that he was never very good at deep throating, and if it went any further he was going to gag, and oh – he did.

Trying to get L’s dick from the back of his throat without tensing up and making any particularly gross and off putting noises, Matsuda braced his other hand against a white hip and pushed his head back insistently against equally insistent hands.

He succeeded after a particularly hard suck to the head, which made L almost whimper and his fingers twitch in the locks of hair they were threaded through.

The mouth was removed completely from L’s cock while the hand that it was still wrapped in swept upwards to gather the copious amounts of saliva left over as lubricant.

He could have used the lube he had in his pocket, but it was only a small tube and he needed that for later on, or so he hoped.

Besides, he didn’t like the taste.

Continuing his firm strokes up and down Ryuuzaki’s erection, Matsuda realized that he was definitely going to need more. Trying to be subtle about it (There was nothing more unattractive than the sound of someone hok-king), he drew more spit in to his mouth and dribbled it down over the head.

L would probably like the visual.

Another sound from Light was a temporary distraction, and Matsuda glanced over to him, where he was undoubtedly being given a front row seat to the entire show.

What he saw made him stop in utter astonishment.

Light was watching them. Not just a glance out of the corner of his eye, but an outright stare.

His face was twisted in mild disgust…but his cheeks were flushed, and there was no hiding the glazed eyes or the fact that his hair was slightly mussed, as if he had run his own hands through it more than once.
He was watching the two men, and he was doing it with a mixture of disgusted fascination, distaste, helpless anger, and maybe the budding hint of desire and it elated Matsuda, and sent a rush of lust through him that hit him as hard as a punch in the stomach.

He looked so …well, fuckable.

Then Light noticed Matsuda looking. There must have been something in his gaze, because the teen’s eyes darkened in response.
He looked uncertain now too, but he also looked a little more turned on, which was confusing in itself for both of them, but before Matsuda could say anything, whether it was something reassuring or something full of desire, the hands in his hair yanked pointedly and guided him almost forcefully back on to Ryuuzaki’s erection.

Matsuda complied.

He followed his hand with his mouth, moving down and then retreating, making slurping noises to tantalize Light and caressing up and down L’s shaft with his tongue, trying to make him feel as good as possible.

It must have been working, because Ryuuzaki's hips were moving jaggedly, trying to thrust deeper, get further in to the heat that was enveloping his cock, and tiny, breathy sounds were escaping his lips, and they were so hot, and Matsuda was so horny, and god!

He shifted the hand on Ryuuzaki’s hips, deciding it was okay for Ryuuzaki to thrust, because his hand was preventing him from it going down too far, and that level of abandon was arousing anyway, so he moved it down to cup his balls, manipulating the fleshy sac between his fingers.

And L whimpered.

The sound went straight down to Matsuda’s groin, and he couldn’t help it, he moaned around Ryuuzaki’ cock and he squeezed his balls, not quite gently, and sped up his movements, sucking as hard as he could.

His mouth was roughly thrust in to and the hands in his hair were too tight, but it was okay because L was close, Matsuda could feel it as he grew almost impossibly hard in his lips and as his balls clenched.

A groan was ripped from Ryuuzaki’s throat as he tensed, and then he was exploding in Matsuda’s mouth in uneven spurts.

He swallowed it as it came, because he had never liked the bitter, stale taste and he wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

Slowly, Ryuuzaki relaxed beneath him, the fingers in his hair uncurling and his body settled back on the chair, spent. Matsuda took the still hard member from his lips, and delicately licked it clean of any remaining fluids (no sense in leaving behind a mess, after all), and leant back to drink in the sight of a post-coital detective.

He looked…well, he looked rather boneless actually.
His hair was its usual rat’s nest, but there was a delicate blush of the palest pink to his cheeks that was actually quite cute, and his eyes were half lidded, as if he were considering a little nap.

Matsuda couldn’t help his little smile, and he slipped Ryuuzaki’s ugly underwear back up over his knees, careful not to move so much (He himself was still painfully hard).

When he tried to follow suit with the jeans pooled inelegantly around slim ankles however, equally slim hands pushed his hands away with an air of slight impatience and finished the job; covering the appropriate body parts swiftly and deftly.

It was only when delicate fingers buttoned up the loose jeans around narrow hips that Matsuda found that he could stop staring.

Ryuuzaki wasn’t the conventional sort of handsome that Light was, but his skin was smooth, and he was slender and surprisingly lithe for all of his awkward positions and bad posture. His pale skin made his dark eyes stand out in a surprisingly strong contrast; he just looked so not Japanese, so foreign, that it was oddly appealing.

“You are staring, Matsuda.” L informed him.

Matsuda blushed and dropped his eyes. He was not quite game enough to get up yet though, because his feelings on the previous activities were still too obvious, and it was embarrassing.

Funny how he had just wrapped his lip around L’s cock, and yet he was too shy to let him know that he liked it.

They were right, he was an idiot.

Still kneeling, he chanced a glance at Light, but Light had turned his chair away from the two and was looking resolutely at the paper in front of him as if it had the answer to Life’s mysteries. Matsuda doubted that he even saw it though.

It was as if that exchange had never happened.

Matsuda knew it did though, because he only made up things like that in his head when he was drunk or when he was by himself and absolutely nothing else to do, and had already masturbated. Or was thinking about it.

This was neither of those times.

Trying to will away his erection, Matsuda stood up slowly, standing on front of Ryuuzaki awkwardly with his hands clasped in front of him.

Why won’t it just go away?

The discomfort was palpable.

Matsuda hunched in front of L and tried to smile but had the feeling that it looked more like a grimace. He couldn’t quite meet the inscrutable dark eyes that were looking at him with an expression that he wasn’t familiar with, and he faltered beneath it.

Light was pretending that they didn’t exist.

Matsuda shuffled from foot to foot, hoping for an end to the rather…odd turn of events.

…Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

He cleared his throat.

“…Uh, I think I should go now,” He blurted. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get it in a semblance of order after the ordeal it had been put through.

He didn’t bother rearranging his clothes; he just leant down towards L.

And then stopped.

What the hell was he thinking? He could have kicked himself. He straightened, his face flaming, berating himself silently for attempting to make this more than it was.

They were right, he was stupid.

He cleared his throat again, and mumbled a goodbye, while L merely looked nonplussed at his peculiar behaviour, which only humiliated Matsuda even more.

So Matsuda did the only thing that he felt he could do in the wake of the tension: he bailed.

Running his fingers through his hair once more, he turned and walked as quickly as he could out of the complex, stumbling on his way out.