Just to avoid any confusion, this takes place in the live-action movie universe, where L has 23 days to live after writing his name down in the notebook.

This was co-written by my wonderful co-author and girlfriend, Stormygio.

Matsuda exhaled loudly as he pulled his car in to his designated parking spot, though doing so wasn't actually necessary, and nor was it the most convenient place to park. But old habits die hard, and he didn't think that Ryuzaki could drive legally here in Japan, anyway.

It was evening but it wasn't too late—just 7 o'clock or so—but his was the only car in the underground parking lot, and that was unlikely to change any time soon. Not with the Kira Case solved and the chief's son dead and Ryuzaki dying.

Ryuzaki dying.

The thought shouldn't really sound so strange in his mind—it was the only reason Matsuda was even here, after all—but it did. Ryuzaki shouldn't be dying, just as much as Light shouldn't have been Kira and Light shouldn't have been dead.

For not the first time, Matsuda considered turning around and going home, abandoning this entire idea, but by the time he decided to do just that, he had already parked the car and gotten out, sake in hand.

That's right, sake.

Because certainly even L appreciated a drink every now and then, right? Now that he wasn't working on the Kira case?

If not, oh well. Matsuda had called this headquarters home for near around a year, as had Ryuzaki. He had begun to feel considerably comfortable here, and had even grown to be more comfortable in the presence of Ryuuzaki as the months passed. He was sure Ryuzaki wouldn't care if he spent just one more night in his own room, right?


Typing in the combination on the keypad positioned at the entrance needed to get inside, Matsuda let himself in.

He didn't know, exactly, what he was expecting to find—L eating cake, maybe, and working on solving cases—but not…this. Definitely not this.

Well, L was sitting at his desk, eating cake and working on solving cases.

But this. This was different. There were case files and dirty plates and empty teacups scattered all about the room. The bag's under L's eyes were darker than Matsuda had probably ever seen them, and the detective stared dully at the computer in front of him; the air of childlike curiosity and surreal intelligence in which he was so often shrouded seemed to be absent from this tired, gaunt figure in front of him, appearing as though someone had stripped him bare, removing layer upon layer until only his humanity remained.

For a moment Matsuda wasn't sure if L was even going to acknowledge that he was present, but after a few moments of silence, L's nimble hands came to a slow stop as he, without bothering to face him, quietly muttered a single word.


"Hi, Ryuzaki," Matsuda returned, no lack of awkwardness in his tone.

The typing resumed, accompanied by the unmistakable and cringe-worthy sound of teeth nibbling on the tip of a fingernail. Matsuda once would have shuddered at the mere thought of teeth crunching and scraping against nail, but, after having lived in a close proximity with Ryuzaki for an extended period, he had developed such immunity to the noise that he barely even noticed it anymore.

Unsure of how to proceed, Matsuda approached L's desk, hazarded a smile, and with both arms outstretched presented him with the bottle of sake before he had a chance to change his mind. At this, L blinks up at him somewhat questioningly, as if he wasn't certain what he was supposed to do with Matsuda's offering.

Fumbling with an explanation, Matsuda stammered, not un-cheerfully, "It's, uhm, sake. I got it for you. And me, I mean. Well, uh, both of us. B-but, only if you want to, of course. I just figured that, uhm, maybe you might want to have a drink before…you…er..."

Matsuda trailed off as L's stare seemed to intensify, though he might have just been imagining it.

(Just a drink before you have to die...)

L averted his eyes downward to the side and to the floor, nibbling his fingernail awkwardly. "Matsuda…It is clear to me what you are doing, and, although it is appreciated, it is highly unnecessary. I have already come to terms with my death."

At that, Matsuda could feel his face burning a bit. What had been intended to be his hidden motive for coming had just been dragged out from under his feet, now lying right out in the open for anyone to acknowledge. And L had acknowledged it, prior to effectively stomping on it. "N-no, I…I mean, that's not what I was—!"

L let out a resemblance of a sigh. "Matsuda is rambling. He should please think about what he wishes to say before saying anything else."

Matsuda immediately silenced, but that didn't stop him from fidgeting about, covered by an embarrassment of an unknown origin. Briefly, Matsuda considered leaving—taking his sake with him, of course—but the thought of simply walking out after having been talked down to by his superior didn't quite sit very well with him, brushing against the remnants of his dignity in an uncomfortable way.

This generated an uncharacteristic burst of stubbornness that bore into the ground, rooting his feet in place and locking his eyes on to L's head, even as the detective turned away from him in favour of his work.

After what felt like a long time, but couldn't actually have been more than a moment or two, L, eyes glowing from the artificial lighting of his computer screen, said, "Matsuda may have as much sake as he would like, though I will refrain and proceed with my casework."

"Uhhh...you sure about that, Ryuzaki? There's plenty here..." he tempted, shaking the sake bottle a couple times as if trying to coax L over to it. But, L was not a dog nor an alcoholic, and so therefore Matsuda didn't honestly expect him to react to the bribe of the throat-burning liquid contained inside the glass bottle.

"Indeed, I am fairly certain. I am behind on my work due to the Kira case, and am now working within a much more constricted time boundary than I have had in the past," L dead-panned, casually mentioning the Kira case as if it were just another one of those case files he had scattered haphazardly about the ground.

When L said that, the man's insensitivity toward such a horrific and tragic investigation made Matsuda feel like he had been punched in the face, betrayed in some inexplicable way despite the fact that no one had even chosen any sides—and without there even being any sides to choose from.

L's words were like a wakeup slap, reminding Matsuda of the reason he was even here wanting to drink in the first place. In that moment, if Ryuuzaki didn't care to take part in it, that was fine by him. Everyone always has his own way of dealing with grief.

Making up his mind, Matsuda took a cork-screw out of his pocket, finally deciding to hell with it. Popping off the cap, he retrieved a cup from the kitchen and poured himself a glass.

Seating himself on the couch, Matsuda took a swig of it. The liquid burned as it went down his throat, and Matsuda enjoyed the familiar sensation. L continued to look over whatever case he was working on.

(Shouldn't be working on.)

But it was then that Matsuda realized that you can't string nuts through macaroni.

Not in a literal sense, though that was true as well. You can't force nuts to fit inside something as small as the hole in a piece of macaroni, just as you couldn't force certain emotions on somebody who lacks the capacity for them, or else they'll break. And if the macaroni pieces on a macaroni necklace are broken, the macaroni necklace can no longer do properly the job it was intended for.

And that was why Matsuda was so surprised when L suddenly rose from his desk and wordlessly ventured over to the sake bottle, emotion completely absent from his face.

Matsuda watched as L slowly and carefully poured some of it into one of the dirty, empty teacups he had lying around. Matsuda remained completely silent and perfectly still, fearful that any acknowledgement on his part would stop L from proceeding with what he was doing.

(And for some reason, Matsuda found himself really wanting L to continue.)

Though seemingly reluctant at first, L took a hesitant sip of the alcoholic liquid, making a slightly disgusted face as he swallowed. After a moment of thought, L brought the glass back up near his face and sniffed it.

For one horrifying moment, Matsuda was afraid that L might start drowning his sake in sugar. However, to Matsuda's great relief, it seemed that this action was too weird and gross for even L. Pinching his nostrils shut with one hand and tipping his head back slightly, Matsuda watched as L downed the rest of the drink in a few gulps.

An hour and three drinks later, L lay sprawled out on one of the armchairs, legs dangling off of the side and head supported by the armrest. L appeared to be the type of person whom, when drunk, sort of just falls down afterwards. Matsuda wasn't at all surprised to find that L had a very small capacity with regards to alcoholic consumption. Matsuda, on the other hand, was much more used to it, and was only feeling a bit fuzzy in the head.

"Hey, Matsuda," L mumbled drunkenly, still lying with his head facing up at the ceiling. Somehow, he appeared to be even more exhausted than he had earlier.


"I think there's a seventy percent chance I may be drunk."

Matsuda thought it should probably be a much higher percent chance than that, but he didn't say anything to correct the detective because hadn't L once said that he hates being wrong? Matsuda was pretty sure that he had, and he was dying anyway so why not just let him be right all the time? Yeah, that sounded logical enough.

"You're probably right," Matsuda agreed.

"You know, Matsuda," L continued, finally turning his head away from the ceiling to stare unfocusedly at the older man, "that I can't allow you to leave, now."

Before Matsuda could respond, or ask his former boss what he meant by that, L explained, "It's a bad idea to drive while drunk, and it's not like Watari's around to drive anyone around anymore."

At the mention of L's dead caretaker, Matsuda decided that the conversation was moving all too quickly in a direction he would much rather avoid. Washing down a fresh wave of pain with another swig of sake, Matsuda chose not to say anything at all.

After a few minutes or so, L seemed to pick up where he had left off. "Matsuda will probably have to sleep tonight on the couch, though, cuz I dunno if he'll be able to go up the stairs to his room without falling down."

Feeling more grateful about Ryuzaki changing the subject than he felt about Ryuzaki's unwarranted and uncharacteristic display of concern for him, Matsuda replied, "Uh, no need to worry about that, Ryuzaki. I'm sure I can manage." Matsuda waved his arm up and down with somewhat uncoordinated movements, as if that would somehow help to prove his point.

"Y'know…" L started, his voice thoughtful, "once, one of my employees kicked me down an entire flight of stairs."

Matsuda studied L's face for a moment before mumbling a confused, "really?"


"But…I thought you had never shown yourself in public before the…er…"

Matsuda let himself trail off, wondering why the conversation always seemed to keep coming back to Kira. Kira Kira Kira Kira. Light was fucking killed by Kira, and wasn't that enough? Were they still so consumed by that godforsaken investigation, even after the case was—

Wait. Light wasn't killed by Kira. Light is Kira.


Matsuda found that he was frequently having to remind himself that Light and Kira were one and the same; some desperate part of his mind was still in denial.

He preferred not to think about it too much.

Suddenly, Matsuda became aware of the fact that L was speaking, so he shook his head—an action that made the room seem to shake right along with him—and tried to focus on what L was saying.

"—didn't know who I was. They threw me down the stairs after my assault."

Matsuda furrowed his eyebrows, attempting to force the alcohol-induced fogginess of his mind away just enough to be able to mostly piece together what L had been saying.

"Threw you down the stairs…but why?"

L looked as if he tried to shrug, but shrugging proved to be a rather difficult event when one was lying down. "Sexual assault, mainly."

L had said that in such a monotone voice that Matsuda couldn't help but giggle a bit at it, because he found it kind of funny that such a serious person would pop in random sex jokes while drunk.

"I can't see Ryuzaki-san raping anybody," Matsuda declared, only afterward remembering his earlier-made decision to allow L to be right about everything he said before he had to die.

Ryuzaki narrowed his eyes, twisting his face into displaying a tiny, bewildered expression. "Uh'course I didn't rape them," L slurred slightly, sounding just a bit puzzled as to how Matsuda had come to such a conclusion.

Matsuda poured himself a bit more sake from the bottle, taking a small gulp of it.

"Then…what did you do? To sexually assault them, I mean?" Now Matsuda was confused, and he suspected that L didn't quite know what he was talking about. Then again, his own head wasn't exactly as clear as could be either.

With a heavy hand, L gestured for Matsuda to stand up. When a quick glance revealed that Matsuda had opted to remain seated, L seemed to fall impatient. "Up. Up. Get up," he ordered drunkenly.

Though he didn't really know what L was trying to do here, eventually Matsuda obeyed, swaying slightly as he stood.

L flailed his hand a bit in the direction of himself. "Over here," he mumbled.

Matsuda approached his former boss with hesitance, failing to walk in any sort of straight line. He stopped a few feet from the armchair on which L was sprawled.

Seeing that the physical distance between them was at a closer proximity than it had been prior, L sat upright on the cushion, closing his eyes in what was probably an attempt to wait for his head to stop spinning.

Matsuda took this as an opportunity to question L's motives.

"What are you having me do, Ryuzaki? What're you gonna do?"

L opened his weary, bloodshot eyes and took a deep breath. "Showin' you."

Before Matsuda even had a chance to feel anything but a trace of rising panic in his chest, L was standing up. He seemed to be having a difficult time finding his sense of balance.

Matsuda didn't realize what was going on before the younger man had already stumbled over and barreled into him, flinging his arms around the elder's midsection and holding on as though it was the only thing enabling him to remain standing.

That didn't last long.

The detective was light—much lighter than what was probably healthy—but Matsuda had been taken completely off-guard and had therefore toppled over, sending them both to the floor in a tangled mess of arms and legs. Luckily, there were no cracked skulls.

"The fuck, Ryuzaki?" Matsuda cried, feeling severely annoyed.

He got only a groan in response. Matsuda tried to sit up, but his limbs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds, and a pair of arms were still wrapped around his stomach.

Realizing the problem, Matsuda did his best to roll onto his side as he said, "Ryuzaki. Off of me."

When the detective failed to comply, Matsuda pried off his arms and slid out from under him. He stood back up—granted, a bit shakily—and stared down at the somewhat pathetic-looking man squirming about on the floor below him. Irritated as he was, Matsuda felt a bit of pity for Ryuzaki.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Matsuda grabbed L's hand and—with much effort—managed to pull him to his feet and guide him back over to the chair.

"Never," Matsuda huffed, his face a bit flustered, "never do that again."

L grunted a bit in response, shifting about in a half-hearted attempt to make himself more comfortable.

Matsuda stared at the man in silence for a few moments as he tried to piece together an adequate sentence in his mind. It was then that he, a bit irately, grumbled, "Don't you know how to hug a girl, Ryuzaki?"

L nibbled on his lower lip. "Hmmmm…no, I can't say that I've had much experience with that."

"But haven't you ever had, like, a girlfriend before? …Or a, uh, boyfriend…?"

L cleared his throat a bit. "No, I'm the top three detectives. I can't get close to anybody, not if I can avoid it."

"You mean you've never even had sex?" Matsuda blurted before he could stop himself. Immediately he clasped a hand over his mouth and sunk down onto the couch. "Uhhh, sorry, sorry, sorry…."

The corner of L's lips curled into a bemused grin. "You always seem to be saying sorry, Matsuda," he teased, "you should stop being so mistaken a lot. And yes, that's right, I have not had sex."

Really? But why not? Sure, L wasn't exactly what anyone would think of as attractive, but he could always hire a prostitute, or something. Sex is a regular human experience—one that everyone should have before they die.

(Which was coming up fairly soon for Ryuzaki.)

"W-wow, I didn't expect Ryuzaki-san to still be a virgin—ahh! Sorry, I mean…"

Ignoring Matsuda's rambling, L bit his thumb and averted his eyes to the ceiling. "I don't seem like a virgin?" he mused, more to himself than to the other man. "How odd."

Matsuda looked at L, with eyes that held more nervousness than his voice, asked, "W-well, uh…do you want to be a virgin? Like, don't you want to know what, uh, sex is like before…you, well…"

Matsuda let himself trail off, and L said, "Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter…"

Doesn't matter? But he's never done it before, so how does he know that it doesn't matter? What if L experiences sex, realizes that it does actually matter, and then decides to spend the rest of his time alive having sex with prostitutes and stuff all day and all night? Like, making up for lost time and all. Because, really. How does he know that he doesn't care about sex without ever having done it?

Ryuzaki's reasoning wasn't making very much sense to Matsuda.

"Of course it matters! I mean, uh, it matters that you see for yourself, I think. About whether you think it matters, I mean. Uh…I'm not trying to…I mean, I'm just…don't you want to just see what it's like before you die?"

"Hmm…" L looked thoughtful, "it might be interesting, I suppose. But as I said, I don't consider it too important."

"W…well…i-if someone…if someone offered it…like, uh, right now…would you, um, do it?"

L gave Matsuda a very long stare, as if trying to analyze Matsuda's words through the haze of his mind. Finally, L said, "Is Matsuda-san implying that he is willing to have sex with me?"

What? What? No! Of course he wasn't offering that. That would be completely ridiculous.

Had that been what he was implying?

"Wh-what? Th-that's—! Uhhh…I mean, err, that's…I mean…I…"

"Hmm…I suppose I wouldn't be opposed to it," L informed the ceiling, and then dropped his eyes to focus on Matsuda.

At Ryuzaki's words, all logical thought seemed to fly out the window and Matsuda completely froze. "Y…you…you want me to?"

L raised a nonexistent eyebrow in thought and said, "Hmm…yes, why not?"

Matsuda awkwardly stood there, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do. "Uhh…right—right now?"

That's right, Touta, stalling tactics. Stall the night away.

"That's what I was assuming."

Well, no more stalling.

Matsuda slowly walked over to where L was half-sitting.

Matsuda hesitated for a moment, but then nervously slid a cold hand underneath L's shirt, tentatively massaging his chest. He recoiled when L put up his hand and softly shoved him off. Matsuda looked at the detective with something resembling a hurt expression, and L mumbled, "Not here. Bedrooms."

Matsuda blinked, mind momentarily blank. "Uhh…which bedrooms?"

L grunted indifferently. "The ones built for sleeping in."

Not bothering to mention to L that that wasn't what he had meant, Matsuda decided to just go to the closest room he could find. Standing straight up, Matsuda grabbed Ryuzaki's arm and helped him off of the chair.

Maintaining his grip on his superior's arm, just to make certain that he wouldn't lose his balance and fall flat on his face, Matsuda began to take a few steps in the direction of the bedrooms. L, however, appeared to have other ideas, and resisted the cop's pull in favour of leaning over the low-lying table to pick up the sake bottle.

Putting it to his lips, he drank whatever was left in it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Just figured I might be needing this," Ryuzaki told Matsuda, by way of explanation. He gripped Matsuda's arm to steady himself and started walking in the direction Matsuda had been earlier.

In the bedroom, L sat atop the bed in a clumsy excuse for his regular crouch, tracing pattern on the bedspread in a drunken stupor. Matsuda prepared himself mentally for what he was about to do, and once he gathered up his courage, he tottered over to L, allowed his hand to hover over Ryuzaki's chest, and tentatively asked, "May I, uh, take off your shirt?"

Head lolling to one side a bit, almost curiously, Ryuzaki mumbled dismissively, "If you think you should."

Exhaling, Matsuda caressed the bare skin of Ryuzaki's chest before slowly lifting off his wrinkled shirt.

Locking eyes with the detective, Matsuda traced soft, careful kisses up the length of L's chest and neck. As he did so, rough strands of L's tangled hair brushed lightly against his face, creating a slightly unpleasant sensation.

The older man eyed the detective's jeans with acute discomfort. Clearing his throat nervously, Matsuda forced out, "Uh, may I...er, take off your pants?"

L's expression was ever so slightly confused—the sort of look that Matsuda was unused to seeing on his face.

(Nor, Matsuda quickly decided, did it very much suit him.)

"I think I answered this already," Ryuzaki said.

"Ahh! Y-you did. I'm just…making sure," Matsuda stammered, face now even redder. L ignored the other man's embarrassment, apparently opting instead to stare at the ceiling.

As smoothly as he could manage, Matsuda reached down to undo the button on L's jeans. He fumbled with it a bit, but finally—though with no small amount of awkwardness—succeeded in tugging the pants off of L's legs, revealing his sea-blue boxers.

Not at all at ease with the prospect of just abruptly taking off L's boxers, Matsuda thought it perhaps best to ask before rushing into anything.

"Ryuzaki...I'm going to, uhm—for this, I need to take off your boxers now. Is that okay?"

L responded with a nod; it seemed almost like one of irritation. Matsuda bit his lip and quickly pulled down on the fabric, inevitably exposing L's cock. It was more or less six inches long, and lightly covered in hair.

As soon as his clothes were off, L's legs curled, knees pressed firmly against his chest. He looked, basically, as if someone had flipped him over onto his back while he was sitting in his usual crouch.

"Uhhh...Ryuuzaki..." the older man started, staring at him, "you know that this isn't gonna work if you have your legs like that, right?"

When Ryuzaki failed to comply with Matsuda's obvious request to lie his legs flat, Matsuda tugged on L's legs so as to uncurl them manually. When they immediately began to re-curl—as if by some unknown force of gravity—Matsuda put his hands on both of L's knees, pushing them back down.

"R-ryuuzaki, keep your legs flat. This'll be impossible, otherwise."

It was obvious that this made L feel vulnerable and exposed, but Matsuda was fairly certain that it would be impossible to get through this without either of them feeling any discomfort at all.

On the other hand, he quickly re-decided, it would be to everyone's benefit if such feelings could be avoided as much as possible.

Matsuda took a deep breath, reminding himself that the only reason he was doing this was as a final service to Ryuzaki. He couldn't just let himself screw it up, no matter how uncomfortable he felt.

"O-okay. May I, um, press up against you?"

L quirked an eyebrow. "Haven't you already?"

"Well, yes, I m-mean..." sensing L's impatience, Matusda decided that it was best to stop talking. Letting himself trail off, he wordlessly re-positioned himself on top of L, feeling a bit of embarrassment.

"Okay, so can I, uh... I dunno, kiss you, or something?"

Rather than answering, L grabbed Matsuda by the tie, yanking down on it sharply so that their faces were only inches apart. "No," L said, somewhat sternly, "you take them off, too."

"O-oh," Matsuda mumbled in surprise. "O-okay—"

His words were cut off as L took hold of the buttons on his clothes, attempting to undo them himself. Matsuda watched as the younger man hopelessly fumbled with the small, round pieces of plastic, his drunken hands making complicated the simple task of unbuttoning the shirt.

Attempting to help, Matsuda started, "Here, let me..."

"I can do it," L protested in a murmur, still attempting to undress him.

Matsuda shook his head. "No, just let me..."

He rolled off of L, reached down and, with slightly more coordinated fingers, unbuttoned the rest of his shirt.

Though it was a pointless action, Matsuda turned away from L as he removed his black pants. Once he was completely exposed, Matsuda scooted back over to the bed and resumed his previous position on top of Ryuzaki, after having to uncurl his legs from his body for a third time.

"Now," Matsuda said, quietly, "now, may I, uh, kiss you?"

"You're the one who knows what to do." Matsuda wondered why L sounded annoyed; was he doing anything wrong?

"Ahh...yeah," Matsuda said, stupidly, ignoring the urge to scratch the back of his neck. He lowered his head, placing tentative kisses upon L's neck and face. He felt L slightly tense up at the contact, so Matsuda gently ran his hands up and down his shoulders in an attempt to ease some of his discomfort.

(Not that he wasn't feeling his own sense of disquiet.)

"Umm, is this okay, so far? Do you want me to slow down, or..."

At this, L's patience seemed to snap and he hissed, rather harshly, "Stop asking me questions and just get on with it."

"O-oh, okay, of course, I mean—" Matsuda took a deep breath to keep him from saying anything else stupid. "I-I'm going to kiss you now."

Lowering his mouth to rest atop Ryuzaki's, Matsuda nibbled on L's bottom lip a bit as he worked to push his tongue past it. Once his tongue was in, he moved it to explore every inch of L's mouth, steadily moving faster, faster, laying on more and more pressure.

He had no idea at what point L had begun kissing back, just like he didn't know when L had become someone so impossibly irresistible. He didn't know, because he could barely even think. His thoughts were swirling in his head, and he could feel the warmth rising in his stomach, and it made him wonder why that was happening when he was just kissing, only kissing—but then he realized that it was because he wasn't getting enough oxygen, so he momentarily pulled back to take a breath.

L let out a deep, baritone growl, sending shivers up the other man's spine. It bordered on a moan; a strangely animalistic and throaty sound, but seductive and sexy in a way that someone like L shouldn't have even been capable of. Did Ryuzaki have any idea what he was doing to the older man, just from that single, lusty noise?

Reservation becoming almost as foggy as his sense of reason, Matsuda found himself reaching down, gently rubbing his thumb up and down the entirety of L's erect cock, overtaken by a sudden, overpowering feeling of lust.

Ryuzaki took a sharp intake of breath and immediately latched on to one of Matsuda's arms with his fingernails. "Matsuda..." he breathed in a strained tone, betraying a sense of urgency. His other hand strangled the sheets, its knuckles white.

Obviously something was wrong; maybe L just felt unused to so much contact? Matsuda figured that that was a fair assessment, and in turn slowed his pace a bit. In an attempt to provide reassurance and put him at ease, Matsuda began to massage, soothingly, up and down Ryuzaki's arms, waiting for him to relax.

L began to relax, eyes half-lidded and fingernails no longer digging into Matsuda's arm. He exhaled, and Matsuda decided that it was probably about time to move to the next step.

"A-alright, uh, I'm going to prepare you, now. Just, um, tell me if I'm going too fast ever."

At that, Matsuda felt L stiffen, followed by a slow nod.

Matsuda pushed L's legs back up to his chest by the feet, getting him in position. Sticking his finger in his mouth, Matsuda sucked on them, thoroughly wetting them as he prepared for penetration. Knowing to take it slow, as this was L's first time, Matsuda carefully stuck the very tip of his finger into his entrance. L hissed, soft and strangled, uncomfortable at the sudden intrusion.

After waiting for L's muscles to relax around his finger, Matsuda carefully pushed his entire index finger into him, eliciting a sharp gasp from the younger.

"R-Ryuuzaki, please don't be so tense. You're going to make this much harder otherwise..." Matsuda waited for the younger man to loosen up before scissoring his fingers back and forth quickly. L's breath was husky and laden with a mixture of anxiety, pain, and pleasure.

Continuing this consistency, Matsuda added one more finger. By now, L was whimpering quietly, desperately trying but failing to cover up the pathetic noises. Removing his fingers from inside of L, Matsuda quickly positioned himself above the detective.

"I'm going...to do it."

L locked eyes with him and nodded tersely, his coarse black hair sticking to the sides of his neck and face. Matsuda positioned his throbbing penis, slick with precum, at the entrance to L's ass, very slowly sliding it in half way.

"Nnnnng...!" L arched into Matsuda, fingers digging aggressively into the cream-coloured bedsheets. His entire body was shaking, damp with sweat and eyes shut tightly as his body attempted to adjust itself to the size of Matsuda's cock.

Matsuda slowly pulled out, and L found himself trembling even harder as he was thrust into again, even deeper than before. L bit his lip, hard, and just barely managed to hold back a shriek of pain, blood leaking from more than just his lip.

Small sounds erupted from L in various volumes, and it was obvious that his whimpering was beyond his ability to control as he was assaulted by a mixture of pain and pleasure.

L arched his back into the other man, his arms reaching up and snaking around Matsuda's neck, clutching his shoulders desperately as his co-worker pounded into him again and again. Both were panting heavily, bodies trembling.

Oh god, the sounds L was making. Something snapped in Matsuda's brain, and suddenly all he could think about was how much he wanted, needed Ryuzaki to keep making those delicious noises. All but completely losing control of himself, he pounded harder, and harder. At some point, though he wasn't sure when, exactly, he grabbed L's cock and began jerking it to the rhythm of his thrusts.

Then, in a blind flash of heat, L gasped loudly and released a garbled combination of both a growl and a moan, grabbing desperately at Matsuda's shoulders and arms with his fingers, and Matsuda knew he had found his prostate. Focusing on that spot, Matsuda slammed into him even harder, causing L to cry out. He could feel his climax coming up fast, and, by the looks of it, Ryuzaki was in a similar situation.

"M-Mats-!" L wasn't even able to get the entire name passed his lips before cum exploded from his cock, causing him to arch into the mattress, still holding onto Matsuda's arms. This sent Matsuda over the edge, and he came, hard and bursting.

Limbs trembling almost to the point of convulsion, Matsuda collapsed on top of Ryuzaki, both men panting loudly for air and completely covered in sweat. Faces flushed, they lay there for several minutes, trying to regain a bit of composure.

Finally, Matsuda pulled his penis out and rolled so that he was lying beside Ryuzaki rather than on top of him. L's eyes were closed, and his breathing had slowed. Feeling an unusual amount of affection toward the other man, Matsuda carefully wrapped his arms around him and pressed his head into the crook of L's neck.

Watching L sleep reminded Matsuda of the much deeper one he would soon be facing in little more than a few weeks. The reality of it all hit Matsuda full force, then, and never before had L's impending death been so clear, so real as it was in that moment, holding the man to his chest. This was his last chance to talk to him—Matsuda understood this now, understood why L had agreed to this to begin with—and he knew he had to, just had to ask.

It wasn't an important question, even.

(But in a way it was, more than anything else Matsuda had ever wanted to say.)

And so that's why Matsuda found himself jostling Ryuzaki awake, because he just had to know, for no other reason than the fact that he didn't want to live the rest of his life regretting not saying anything when he had the chance.

"Hey, Ryuzaki," Matsuda whispered, trying to get his attention.

"Mmmgg..." L groaned, sleepy and just plain exhausted.

"Ryuzaki, are you awake?"

L's eyes cracked open, looking up at Matsuda in irritation for being woken up. "Nnng, I am now. What is it?"

"...What...what's it like?" Matsuda managed, "To be...dying?"

L stared at him for a good, long moment.

Just as Matsuda was beginning to think that L had somehow fallen asleep with his eyes open, Ryuzaki slowly muttered, in a very low voice, "I'm not afraid to die, Matsuda."


"But..." he looked down, "but...I do not want to."

There wasn't really anything Matsuda could say to that-not anything he could think of. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, before L broke it by half-sighing, half-grumbling, "Matsuda, you're an idiot. Go to sleep."

Still staring, Matsuda slowly nodded, putting his arm around the man curled up against him.

Sighing into L's hair, Matsuda knew that there would be no lack of confusion and awkwardness in the morning, but, for the moment, he felt okay with that.



It's still unedited, and probably has a few strange sentences here and there, but I'm going to fix all that in the morning.

Am I the only one who notices that L gets progressively less drunk as the story goes on?

Oooh, alsoalsoalso! ! (*BIG SMILE.*) I finally figured out the whole meaning of "you can't string nuts through macaroni". I'M SO HAPPY I FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT WOOHOO. *being obnoxious for no apparent reason*

In any case! Again, I must give big thanks to Stormygio, who is amazing, and who stayed awake with me for two days straight to help me write this (and is currently asleep right now. JEALOUSY).

If you've made it this far, you might as well review. O: Reviews would be better than eating the cake sitting on my kitchen counter.

(The one I already ate..)

Ignore my rambling, so I'll end with saying, thank you very very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

~Ratt Kazamata, 2-14-2012