Sugar (Death Note, G). L/Matsuda
Name: Sugar
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: G
Pairing: L/Matsuda
Warnings: None
Summary: Ryuuzaki eats a lot of candy. Matsuda is confused, as well as annoyed that he can't have just a little bit. Written for a prompt on Tumblr.
It was weird. Matsuda was sure that nobody was supposed to do that in such a serious situation. Matsuda always looked to Chief Yagami for guidance but it seemed that even he was stumped, here. L- Ryuzaki, rather- was crouched in his chair sucking a bright pink lollypop. It rather killed the image Matsuda had originally had of L being well-dressed middle-aged European man with a salt and pepper beard and twinkly eyes. Ryuzaki was younger than Matsuda, was wearing a pajama top with jeans and had huge, solid-black eyes with bags beneath them. And he sat really strangely. Matsuda would get into trouble if he dressed like that or sat like that.
And the lollypop. Matsuda would never, ever be allowed a lollypop.
It would be nice, perhaps, if he could offer them round. But Matsuda couldn’t really say anything and, besides, no-one was paying attention to him, anyway. Especially not L, although those enormous eyes had seemed to have scrutinised him very thoroughly when they had first met. Black eyes and the tinkle of Ryuzaki’s spoon against the side of his cup, remembered Matsuda.
But as far as Matsuda could see, even Mogi was intimidated by that stare, and Mogi could probably crush Ryuzaki without effort, if he wanted. Not that he would; Ryuzaki was helping them catch Kira and, besides, Mogi was nice.
Matsuda pushed the creepiness of that stare to the back of his mind. He wanted to help and to play a big part in the Kira case. Wasn’t he putting his life on the line like everyone else? Ryuzaki owed him some attention, at least.
Matsuda decided to ask what the best course of action would be. Aizawa glanced at him with irritability, but it was still Ryuzaki’s eyes settling on him again that made him stutter just a little when he repeated his question. He noticed, though, that the chief was looking towards Ryuzaki for an answer, too. There were some moments when Matsuda felt like the chief didn’t quite think he was as useless as anyone else did.
“Mr Matsuda,” said Ryuzaki. His voice was low and ponderous, deeper than his fragile appearance would suggest and slightly accented. “I want you to get me something. It’s very useful to me.”
Matsuda nodded, with more obvious enthusiasm than he intended. “Okay,” he replied. He wondered if Aizawa was jealous. If Ide was there, he’d definitely be jealous.
“Watari has something for me. He’s two doors down in number fifty-eight,” said Ryuzaki, handing him a piece of paper. Matsuda nodded and took it. Two doors down. He could do that and it would be important.
Ryuzaki would be pleased and, perhaps more importantly, so would the chief. He smiled as he went. Stepping out into the hotel corridor, he felt that it would be very bad form to look at Ryuzaki’s private message. He knocked on the given door. He heard the old man’s chair creak as he stood up and the door opened. That pleasant mustached face stared back at him and Matsuda thought not for the first time that Watari was much closer to how he figured L would look. Maybe a little older.
Matsuda couldn’t stop himself from beaming, and handed over the sheet of paper. Watari raised his eyebrows as he read it.
“Very well,” his Japanese was much more accented than Ryuzaki’s was.
Watari invited him in while he found whatever important thing it was that Ryuzaki wanted. The room had several computer monitors across the table and dressing table. They showed what was going on outside, in the lobby and in the corridor. Matsuda supposed that Ryuzaki could have cameras wherever he wanted.
“Just a moment,” said Watari, as Matsuda sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed which was covered in wires and bits of computer. He waited while Watari rummaged around a draw. Matsuda wondered what it could be. Perhaps some ultra-sophisticated piece of surveillance technology that would help them greatly. Or a list of people involved with Kira that only Ryuzaki knew about, and could not go missing under any circumstances. Or some footage of one of the victims at their death that gave incriminating evidence.
“Here you go,” Watari said as he handed him a box. It was small and rectangular and made of cardboard.
It was also pink and green and had Chupa-Chups written across it. Strawberry and cream lollypops and lime flavoured lollypops. It was one of those moments when Matsuda really did feel like he could just disappear. Matsuda felt like that a lot.
“Lollypops,” he said, blandly.
“Yes,” replied Watari, who did not seem to pick up on Matsuda’s crushing embarrassment on being sent during an important investigation to pick up lollypops. “He needs a difference in flavour.”
Matsuda nodded, bowed and thanked him, quietly.
“Don’t worry,” beamed Watari. “You get used to it.”
Matsuda nodded, mutely, and left, clutching the box. It was humiliating, it really was. Aizawa would ridicule him and Chief Yagami would be disappointed. A box of lollypops. A box of twenty-five lollypops. A box of twenty-five sweet, delicious lollypops. Matsuda felt annoyed, needless to say.
He had to admit that he also felt a little hungry. Twenty-five lollypops. Ryuzaki didn’t need them all. It wasn’t even important information or evidence like Matsuda had thought, either. Perhaps a minute could be spared, too. Ryuzaki shouldn’t send him for lollypops.
He opened the box. They lay there, all in their colourful wrappings. He selected a strawberry and cream one and pulled off the wrapper. Too late to go back, now. He slipped it into his mouth and spent a little while sucking it. It was delicious and the sugar sparked on his tongue. He crunched it after that, because he needed to get back.
He finished it and hurriedly wiped his mouth, pushing the stick into his pocket. He realised, absently, that Watari could see him, but since the old man hadn’t come rushing out, it was probably okay. He slipped back into the room, preparing himself for the glances of Aizawa and Mogi at the brightly coloured box.
“Ah, Matsuda, my lollies, thank-you,” Ryuzaki almost seemed happy. Matsuda selectively ignored the other men and concentrated on the detective, who was opening his box. Then he closed it, and opened it again. He turned to look at Matsuda, who flinched at the probing gaze.
“Matsuda…” he said, placing the box carefully on the table. His eyes narrowed “Can I see you outside, please.”
Matsuda nodded, and Ryuzaki pulled himself up from his chair and loped towards the door. Matsuda looked at the chief, who looked a little non-plussed but not entirely livid, so that was okay, he supposed. But Ryuzaki seemed annoyed.
He followed the detective from the room and the two of them stopped in the corridor.
Matsuda opened his mouth to speak, only to be surprised into silence by Ryuzaki kissing him. Ryuzaki was kissing him. Why was Ryuzaki kissing him? Matsuda pressed his hands against Ryuzaki’s shoulders with the intent to push him away. But. He couldn’t quite do it. Ryuzaki was unexpectedly soft. Matsuda managed to pull his mouth away just a little, eventually.
“It…someone might…” he said.
“This floor is empty. No-one will see,” replied Ryuzaki, before pressing against him.
He was inexperienced, even in comparison to Matsuda, and his body was held just a little away from him. Matsuda wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he held him carefully by the shoulders. He was wiry and slight and the urge was to be gentle despite Ryuzaki’s intimidation. Matsuda wanted to pull away when the thought of Aizawa and Mogi and oh god the chief slid into his mind. He was kissing Ryuzaki, he was kissing L. What was he doing?
But then Ryuzaki pulled away. He didn’t seem to be flushed or embarrassed. Instead, he said “Sugar,” he said, breathlessly. “I need all of the sugar Watari gives me. It really is the most important thing. Please don’t take it from me.”
Matsuda nodded, feeling slightly dazed as he followed Ryuzaki back into the hotel room. Well, he supposed that was what he’d wanted to do for the case. Be important.
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: G
Pairing: L/Matsuda
Warnings: None
Summary: Ryuuzaki eats a lot of candy. Matsuda is confused, as well as annoyed that he can't have just a little bit. Written for a prompt on Tumblr.
It was weird. Matsuda was sure that nobody was supposed to do that in such a serious situation. Matsuda always looked to Chief Yagami for guidance but it seemed that even he was stumped, here. L- Ryuzaki, rather- was crouched in his chair sucking a bright pink lollypop. It rather killed the image Matsuda had originally had of L being well-dressed middle-aged European man with a salt and pepper beard and twinkly eyes. Ryuzaki was younger than Matsuda, was wearing a pajama top with jeans and had huge, solid-black eyes with bags beneath them. And he sat really strangely. Matsuda would get into trouble if he dressed like that or sat like that.
And the lollypop. Matsuda would never, ever be allowed a lollypop.
It would be nice, perhaps, if he could offer them round. But Matsuda couldn’t really say anything and, besides, no-one was paying attention to him, anyway. Especially not L, although those enormous eyes had seemed to have scrutinised him very thoroughly when they had first met. Black eyes and the tinkle of Ryuzaki’s spoon against the side of his cup, remembered Matsuda.
But as far as Matsuda could see, even Mogi was intimidated by that stare, and Mogi could probably crush Ryuzaki without effort, if he wanted. Not that he would; Ryuzaki was helping them catch Kira and, besides, Mogi was nice.
Matsuda pushed the creepiness of that stare to the back of his mind. He wanted to help and to play a big part in the Kira case. Wasn’t he putting his life on the line like everyone else? Ryuzaki owed him some attention, at least.
Matsuda decided to ask what the best course of action would be. Aizawa glanced at him with irritability, but it was still Ryuzaki’s eyes settling on him again that made him stutter just a little when he repeated his question. He noticed, though, that the chief was looking towards Ryuzaki for an answer, too. There were some moments when Matsuda felt like the chief didn’t quite think he was as useless as anyone else did.
“Mr Matsuda,” said Ryuzaki. His voice was low and ponderous, deeper than his fragile appearance would suggest and slightly accented. “I want you to get me something. It’s very useful to me.”
Matsuda nodded, with more obvious enthusiasm than he intended. “Okay,” he replied. He wondered if Aizawa was jealous. If Ide was there, he’d definitely be jealous.
“Watari has something for me. He’s two doors down in number fifty-eight,” said Ryuzaki, handing him a piece of paper. Matsuda nodded and took it. Two doors down. He could do that and it would be important.
Ryuzaki would be pleased and, perhaps more importantly, so would the chief. He smiled as he went. Stepping out into the hotel corridor, he felt that it would be very bad form to look at Ryuzaki’s private message. He knocked on the given door. He heard the old man’s chair creak as he stood up and the door opened. That pleasant mustached face stared back at him and Matsuda thought not for the first time that Watari was much closer to how he figured L would look. Maybe a little older.
Matsuda couldn’t stop himself from beaming, and handed over the sheet of paper. Watari raised his eyebrows as he read it.
“Very well,” his Japanese was much more accented than Ryuzaki’s was.
Watari invited him in while he found whatever important thing it was that Ryuzaki wanted. The room had several computer monitors across the table and dressing table. They showed what was going on outside, in the lobby and in the corridor. Matsuda supposed that Ryuzaki could have cameras wherever he wanted.
“Just a moment,” said Watari, as Matsuda sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed which was covered in wires and bits of computer. He waited while Watari rummaged around a draw. Matsuda wondered what it could be. Perhaps some ultra-sophisticated piece of surveillance technology that would help them greatly. Or a list of people involved with Kira that only Ryuzaki knew about, and could not go missing under any circumstances. Or some footage of one of the victims at their death that gave incriminating evidence.
“Here you go,” Watari said as he handed him a box. It was small and rectangular and made of cardboard.
It was also pink and green and had Chupa-Chups written across it. Strawberry and cream lollypops and lime flavoured lollypops. It was one of those moments when Matsuda really did feel like he could just disappear. Matsuda felt like that a lot.
“Lollypops,” he said, blandly.
“Yes,” replied Watari, who did not seem to pick up on Matsuda’s crushing embarrassment on being sent during an important investigation to pick up lollypops. “He needs a difference in flavour.”
Matsuda nodded, bowed and thanked him, quietly.
“Don’t worry,” beamed Watari. “You get used to it.”
Matsuda nodded, mutely, and left, clutching the box. It was humiliating, it really was. Aizawa would ridicule him and Chief Yagami would be disappointed. A box of lollypops. A box of twenty-five lollypops. A box of twenty-five sweet, delicious lollypops. Matsuda felt annoyed, needless to say.
He had to admit that he also felt a little hungry. Twenty-five lollypops. Ryuzaki didn’t need them all. It wasn’t even important information or evidence like Matsuda had thought, either. Perhaps a minute could be spared, too. Ryuzaki shouldn’t send him for lollypops.
He opened the box. They lay there, all in their colourful wrappings. He selected a strawberry and cream one and pulled off the wrapper. Too late to go back, now. He slipped it into his mouth and spent a little while sucking it. It was delicious and the sugar sparked on his tongue. He crunched it after that, because he needed to get back.
He finished it and hurriedly wiped his mouth, pushing the stick into his pocket. He realised, absently, that Watari could see him, but since the old man hadn’t come rushing out, it was probably okay. He slipped back into the room, preparing himself for the glances of Aizawa and Mogi at the brightly coloured box.
“Ah, Matsuda, my lollies, thank-you,” Ryuzaki almost seemed happy. Matsuda selectively ignored the other men and concentrated on the detective, who was opening his box. Then he closed it, and opened it again. He turned to look at Matsuda, who flinched at the probing gaze.
“Matsuda…” he said, placing the box carefully on the table. His eyes narrowed “Can I see you outside, please.”
Matsuda nodded, and Ryuzaki pulled himself up from his chair and loped towards the door. Matsuda looked at the chief, who looked a little non-plussed but not entirely livid, so that was okay, he supposed. But Ryuzaki seemed annoyed.
He followed the detective from the room and the two of them stopped in the corridor.
Matsuda opened his mouth to speak, only to be surprised into silence by Ryuzaki kissing him. Ryuzaki was kissing him. Why was Ryuzaki kissing him? Matsuda pressed his hands against Ryuzaki’s shoulders with the intent to push him away. But. He couldn’t quite do it. Ryuzaki was unexpectedly soft. Matsuda managed to pull his mouth away just a little, eventually.
“It…someone might…” he said.
“This floor is empty. No-one will see,” replied Ryuzaki, before pressing against him.
He was inexperienced, even in comparison to Matsuda, and his body was held just a little away from him. Matsuda wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he held him carefully by the shoulders. He was wiry and slight and the urge was to be gentle despite Ryuzaki’s intimidation. Matsuda wanted to pull away when the thought of Aizawa and Mogi and oh god the chief slid into his mind. He was kissing Ryuzaki, he was kissing L. What was he doing?
But then Ryuzaki pulled away. He didn’t seem to be flushed or embarrassed. Instead, he said “Sugar,” he said, breathlessly. “I need all of the sugar Watari gives me. It really is the most important thing. Please don’t take it from me.”
Matsuda nodded, feeling slightly dazed as he followed Ryuzaki back into the hotel room. Well, he supposed that was what he’d wanted to do for the case. Be important.