Yo.

This is number one. Number one goes first. If you didn't figure that out, you should give yourself a cookie for encouragement to do better in class next time. Just so you are aware, none of these one-shot things are in order. Yeah. Anyway. I less-than-three all of you!

Ja ne!
UK.

Markpoint

UchidaKarasu

Ten miles south of Washington D.C., a redheaded teenager pondered.

The choice he would select was of utmost importance, and could determine a win or a fail, a death or a victory. In his world, that meant everything, and he did not take his choice lightly. He could hear the murmur of electronics lulling him into his natural mindset, one of strategy and dexterity, and then he made his choice.

He pushed in the toggle of his Xbox control and totally raped the dude he just killed.

He got shot by a sniper two seconds after (what Mello called) prancing off into the metaphorical sunset, his helmet on fire and really easy to spot, but it was totally worth it. Raping the guy waiting for respawn was like bragging rights, complete with instant replay (via some fiddling in the game's basecode by Matt himself). Epic to the infinite power, like, seriously.

Meanwhile, Mello was shrieking like a hellcat on the phone. "What the fuck d'you mean that the goddamn systems have been powered off-line? I've been fuckin watching those for weeks you sonofabitch, and it can't just go poof and disappear, you fucknut!"

Slayer in Halo: Reach was badass, even though some of the new tech was bonko. Arf, play dead space-suited-dude! Mind, it didn't help that after the shocks were over, the asshole with the sword would totally shank you.

The jetpack though...that was awesome. And the clones were cool too, but only if he was using it and no one else. Then it was just annoying.

"Woah man, that was fuckin awesome. Markus-fail!" said one of Matt's Halo buddies, who just called himself Jack Daniels. Matt seriously doubted if the Idaho loser had ever even tasted Jacky D before, because while Jack was really freakin' good at Halo, he was also a nerd that still lived in his mom's house. Matt knew, because he had traced his signature and had fed into the live link of his Xbox Kinnect (and who used those things besides kids, anyway? Loss of self-respect, man.

His mom called him Teddy Bear instead of Theo or Theodore. If Matt didn't respect the guy's Halo skills, he probably would've teased him.

Speaking of Markus, who was probably catching his television screen on fire with the explosive nature of his rage, Matt could see the little bastard trying to snipe him out in retaliation for the rape, and because Matt knew it was over, he threw a grenade and committed suicide, killing two enemies that had been trying to get close with pistols. Hey, it was better suicide than getting gang-raped by a bunch of noobs or killed by Markus, the dickhead.

As he waited for respawn, he turned to his computer and typed in a long strand of code, still working on getting the system up and running for their particular use before Mello went nuclear.

Over the headset, Matt said around his cigarette, "Dude, where's the sword in this grid? I've been looking for it for thirty minutes and I need it to shank some losers."

Matt continued to shoot the shit with his on-line gaming buddies for a good thirty minutes before Mello finally lost it, smashing everything he came into contact with.

"'oly fuck, fag, tell yer boyfriend to cannit b'fore mah ears bleed," complained Texas, relatively new to the Halo clan that Matt had brought together. Best of the best, no joke, but Texas was a douche.

"One minute!" groaned Jack. "Don't leaaaaave us!"

"Die you mutinous piece of shit!" bellowed Matt as he fired a grenade launcher in rapid succession at Markus, nearly drowning out Mello's shrieks of rage. His cigarette fell from his lips and tumbled to the hardwood floor, but Matt didn't register it except to make sure the rug close by didn't catch fire or something.

The computer beeped beside Matt, showing a familiar insignia, but Matt ignored it in favor of cheering madly at the resulting explosions and the announcer saying game over.

"Huzzah, Markus loses!" laughed Maggie, who was probably better than all of the others combined (well, besides Texas). "Now get lost, Matty, or Texas will start his dumbass bullshit again."

"Fuck you bitch," Texas growled.

"Play nice, kiddies," said Jack.

"Tell your mom she's a MILF, Texas; I bet she'd give you some so you don't die a pathetic virgin," said Maggie.

"Peace out, guys," said Matt, signing out after a chorus of byes (and a rant from Texas that was increasing in slurs and vulgarity). He picked up his half-smoked cigarette, popped it back in between his lips, and then tossed the controller on the couch, standing up. "Give us a minute, boss dude," he said absently, and L probably picked up his voice from the laptop's speaker system and the headset that was still connected with Xbox Live but technically signed out.

"Very well," said L's voice, scrambled like usual, over the speakers of Matt's laptop.

Distantly, Matt heard a different voice (his voice scrambled due to feed issues but with a distinctive accent regardless) say, "Where in the hell did you put my trousers?"

"You aren't allowed pants until you get me chocolate bars from Switzerland."

"Oooh, is this your way of saying that you wanna have hot, kinky monkey se—"

"Finish that thought and I will kick you in a place where such relations are impossible for a few hours at the very least."

Matt snickered silently to himself, slightly surprised that L hadn't cut off the feed to their banter but mostly just amused at the banter itself. The detective's relationship was a highly private affair, so it was rare to hear a word of news on L's boyfriend, let alone talk, hear, or speak to him.

Matt thought L's boyfriend was the coolest motherfucker on the face of the planet.

For obvious reasons.

"So you're saying that you want me to just stroll my merry way to Switzerland without any trousers? I'm sure that's one way to get free chocolate, but since we're both wealthy and I have much more respect for myself than that, I'd really like to have me trousers back."

"You have self-respect? Just yesterday you did the chicken dance for free ice cream."

"I still had clothes on!"

"You were half-naked."

"In swimming trunks, around a bunch of kids!"

"And you didn't even get free ice cream. What is wrong with you?"

"Hey, the kids got free ice cream, and that's what matters, Kermit."

"Stop that or I'll light your pants on fire."

"There's totally a joke for that."

Mello stormed over to the computer and said in a forced calm voice, "Hey, L. Matt's trying to get through the system. They shut it completely down, and so we're trying to find a way through so we can get the info you need."

"How long?" asked L calmly, while his boyfriend made a strange (mostly because it was scrambled) keening noise in the background. He heard L give a long sigh, and Matt fought the urge to chuckle. He did not want to know what that noise indicated (although he was classified as a genius, and it was kinda obvious anyway).

"About twenty minutes," Matt said, edging his words more like a question than a comment. He wasn't exactly sure...it could take ten seconds or ten hours to bypass all the crap Winstrom International had piled up during down-time. Matt was super-awesome at hacking and the sort, but eh, he had his moments of dragging like a turtle.

Not the Mario ones, though. Those bastards went fast.

Roughly 7,213 kilometres away from D.C., L pondered.

Beneath him, a dark haired man squirmed as the detective's fingers teasingly touched his most intimate of places, but L kept his cool, not wanting to give too much away to the two teen-agers on the other side of the monitor. He should've cut out the audio feed, to give them privacy in this regard, but L just pressed a long, elegant finger against his lover's lips and said, "Shhhh."

Maybe he did have a kink after all (besides the syrup and cherries being used as body ornaments, but that was beside the point), but he filtered that away for later as he finally gripped his lover's hardness with intent. It felt heavy and comforting in his familiar grip, and his mouth began to water, maybe with arousal himself or perhaps he was going to do it again.

Yes, he definitely was. He was already dropping his trademark crouch in favour of Indian-style, because it was easier to replace his hand with his mouth without much discomfort.

He could remember a time when he had been totally grossed out by even thinking of fellatio (sex in general, but now it was like he never wanted to stop), but now...yeah, especially with his lover's diet radically changed since being by L's sugar obsession. It was good—bitter, but an underlying sweetness that didn't make him cringe at the taste.

He still didn't like to swallow though. He wondered if he ever would.

It was even heavier on his tongue, with the musky-sweet taste overwhelming his senses, and he hollowed his cheeks to apply appropriate teasing suction. His lover's hand snapped up to his lips, muffling the constant moans that threatened to break the silence and alert the others. They were alone in their hotel room, sure, but the last thing they needed was Matt and Mello listening in on L's...lewdness.

He had started it anyway, walking around with an erection and nothing on but a dark blue button-up, fully opened and displaying his lovely chest.

He was not getting his trousers back.

He swirled his tongue around the head as if it was lollipop and then sat up, straddling his lover's hips and slowly sinking down onto his hardness. As he was gradually filled to completion, with minimal pain due to him already being fairly stretched from their activities before video-calling Matt (hey, he couldn't help that he preferred being naked around his...boyfriend, lover, whatever they were), he all-but went pliant. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the feeling of being so close to the man he loved, because every time they were together it was like a masterpiece.

Especially when edible body paint was involved.

Like cherry flavoured. Or strawberry. Or chocolate...

L set the pace, slow at first but gradually started moving faster as his passion spiralled out of control. He found himself covering his own mouth to keep from alerting the others, whereas his lover's hands began grasping L's hips, driving him down harder and faster.

L's approaching orgasm was building, and right before the heat in his abdomen and between his legs could explode into climax, he blindly flung out a hand and turned off the audio feed at last.

An instant later, he all-but shrieked, going unimaginably taut as he let go of himself (for the third time in an hour, but who was counting?).

When he finally collapsed upon his lover's sweaty, heaving-for-breath form, he could hear Matt say absently, "Hmm, almost in, weirdos. One...last...firewall...fuck Vista..."

L turned back on the audio and replied in a shaky voice, "Very well. Tell us when you're in and we'll give you what documents we're looking for in their mainframe."

From below him, the love of his life let out a breathless laugh and said, "Wanky. Just wanky. I think I want to explore your mainframe and find your secret documents."

L rolled his eyes and replied, "You've already found all the secret documents, and furthermore, that doesn't even make sense."

"Aw, well, you still love me despite my idiosyncrasy, right?"

L looked down into brilliant green eyes and said, "I have no idea why, but yes, I do."

In Washington D.C., Mello bellowed out, "Get a room, fucknuts!"

Fron wherever in the hell L and his super-freaky-awesome boyfriend were, said boyfriend bellowed, "We already are in a room, brat!"

Despite the scrambled audio, the unmistakable sound of someone being smacked upside the head echoed over the speakers.

Mello laughed and Matt joined in.

L's boyfriend was fucking awesome.