Actions

Work Header

A Kiss For Christmas

Summary:

Sachiko invites Light's roommate, L, to stay with them for Christmas as he won't be flying to see his family in London. Light isn't exactly happy about it, but there's nothing he can do.

Notes:

Work Text:

When Sachiko came by the dorm to help Light with his bags, she froze at the sight of his roommate. L was perched in his armchair, reading some report from one of his foster brothers, but was decidedly not packed, even though break was starting.  He was also wearing the most offensively hideous sweater Light had ever seen.  The third such sweater in as many days.

Light fantasized about lighting it on fire.

“Oh deer” was the least offensive by far. This… light-up Christmas abomination needed to be destroyed.  If only L would leave so Light could destroy them all while he was out…

L looked up and, noticing Light’s grimace, smirked.

Asshole,’ Light thought, glowering.  He knew it was on purpose.

“L, don’t you need to pack your bags? Your family lives in England, don’t they?” Sachiko’s concern was palpable.  Light sighed, already sure of what was going to happen.

His mother was going to invite L to stay with them as soon as L confessed he was staying in the dorm and Skype-ing his family on Christmas. L was going to thank her, but refuse, and then his mother was going to be sad and worried for the whole ride home while he assured her L would be fine.

“They do, but I’m not making the flight back this time. We’re going to Skype on Christmas.”  L smiled, closing the report.  “The flights back and forth are just too hard to get right now.”

“Are you staying with friends, then?”

“No, I was planning on staying here.”

“Alone?”

L shrugged.

“No, you mustn’t.  Why don’t you come stay with us?  We have plenty of room!  No one should be alone for Christmas,” Sachiko said, voice firm.

L blinked once, surprised. “You…  Are you sure?  I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I insist. My son said you like sweets, and Sayu and I can’t eat all the cookies we’ll be making alone.”  Sachiko smiled when she noticed the look on L’s face—of course the glutton was tempted.  “Now, why don’t you quickly pack a bag, and we can be off?”

L glanced at Light once, considering him, before he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”  What was the point of looking at him if he was just going to agree?

L packed dutifully, shoving more ugly sweaters than Light thought could possibly exist into his suitcase, filling a backpack with what looked like more reports and his laptop.

Light frowned. This was not supposed to happen.  L was supposed to refuse.  How was he supposed to put up with L for the entire break?  The whole point of staying at home was getting away from him and his infuriating everything!  Light closed his eyes and prayed to every deity he could think of for patience.

He’d need it.

 


 

When Sayu saw L, her eyes flashed with mischief. Light clenched his fist at his side.  “L, this is my sister Sayu.  Sayu, this is—”

“The infamous L!” she grinned, wide and triumphant. “Mom said you were perfectly civil with her, but Light complains about you all the time.  I’ve wanted to meet you for ages, but Light—”

“Sayu!” Light scowled at her. “Don’t you have something to be doing?  Anything?”

“You know, you’re right. I have first dibs or Christmas music.”  Sayu ran off before Light could throw anything at her.  Her words sunk in as she was rounding the corner.

“Wait, shit, Sayu, don’t you dare—”

You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” the speakers played.  Light groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“I feel like I’m missing something. It’s certainly a new feeling, but I don’t much care for it.”  L said, taking another step into the house.  “Could you explain to me what just happened?”

“Sayu has horrible taste in Christmas music,” Light said, not dropping his hands. “Also she’s awful.  Don’t listen to anything she says.”

“You’re his roommate, so you must’ve seen it,” Sayu said, reappearing in the doorway.

“Seen what?” L tipped his head like a bird. Light groaned again, louder.

“The smile he does when things have gone the way he expects. The one that tilts up at the corners here,” she gestured, drawing the line of the smile.  “You know, the Grinch smile!”

Light walked up the stairs without looking back. He didn’t want to be involved.  Unpacking would be easier and less embarrassing than dealing with this.

“You know,” Light couldn’t help but hear L say, “you’re right. That smile does resemble the Grinch’s.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Light shut his door and fell face first on his bed. He felt like screaming.

 


 

Luckily, his mom was cooking dinner, so he was able to ensconce himself there, making himself useful. Sachiko kept looking over at him and smiling.

“I’m so glad that you and L get along so well,” she sighed. “I was so worried you weren’t going to make any friends when you left for school, but obviously there was no reason for me to be concerned.  Your friend is just lovely.”

“There’s nothing lovely about L, Mom,” Light said. He whisked with a little more vigor.  “He’s annoying and weird and he wears horrible sweaters.”

“And yet,” her eyes were practically shining. “You never once stopped me from inviting him home with us. And you never complain about people you don’t care for, dear.  You get that from me.”

Light opened his mouth to say something—protest, maybe—but when he tried to think about the people he and his mom complained about at home, the list was short: his mom complained about his father and he about his sister. He’d met plenty of people he didn’t like at school, but couldn’t remember if he’d ever complained about any of them.  They didn’t matter, so he’d never really thought about it.

Which was, he suspected, precisely her point.

He looked away. “If I’d stopped you, you would have said something about how rude I was being.”

“Maybe, but your friend would have picked up the cue and refused.” The more he blushed, the more she smiled, it seemed.  “Don’t worry.  Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” Sayu peeked her head in, glancing between them with interest.

“If we told you, the secret would be as safe as a hundred dollar bill left on the street,” Light said. “Why don’t you stir this?  I need to check on my guest.”  He passed a spoon to Sayu, leaving her with their mother.  Sachiko never shared secrets without permission.

When Light knocked on the guest room door, L called a soft, “Come in.”

Light slipped in quietly, glancing at the suitcase at the foot of the bed, still unopened. L was crouched over his laptop; when Light met his eyes, L tipped his head in that birdlike way he had.  Light wondered if he ever slept in a nest (if he slept at all).

“Dinner’s got about twenty minutes left,” Light said.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”  L glanced back at his computer.  Light considered leaving, but it felt like L had something to say, so he waited.  Watching his eyes track over the screen, Light wondered how much L was actually seeing.  L turned his attention back to Light, considering him.  “Are you okay with my being here?”

Light blinked. “You’re worried about that?”  L frowned, but didn’t look away.  “It’s fine, L.  My mom’s happy to have you here, and I’m sure you’ve noticed how delighted Sayu is.”

“I didn’t ask about them, Light.” L said. Light wished he’d taken his answer for what it was, but L was never one to cooperate.

Light looked away. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t too keen on you coming home with us, but I don’t mind.  So, yes, I’m okay with it.  If you want to leave, you can.  I’ll drive you back to campus myself.”  Light laughed, a little ruefully.  “They’re probably a little much, but I don’t exactly bring friends over all that often.  Sayu will calm down or get bored once the novelty’s worn off.”

“How many friends have you brought home?”

“Do you consider us friends?”

L smirked. “Of a kind.”

“Then you’re the first.” Light admitted, heart in his throat.  Turning to leave, he said over his shoulder, “Don’t forget, dinner’s soon.  Finish up whatever it is you’re working on; Mom doesn’t like electronics at the table.”

He closed the door firmly behind him, refusing to see L’s expression. What had he been thinking, admitting something like that to L of all people?

 


 

When the four of them sat down for dinner, L hesitated before eating, glancing at the empty chair. “Should we…?”

“If we wait for that man, we’ll never eat,” Sachiko said, her voice heavy with a sigh. “He called to tell me he’d be another half hour.”

“Well, that’s—”

“That call was over an hour ago.” Sachiko shook her head, putting on a smile, turning bodily away from the empty chair.  “Now, tell me, L, do you like decorating for Christmas?”

“Very much so,” L smiled. “That’s the only downside to being away from home, really.  My brothers always fight over everything, but it’s a little different at Christmas.”

Sachiko laughed, “Well that’s about the opposite here. Light and Sayu get along fine the rest of the year, but at Christmas…”

“It’s not my fault his taste in music is bad.”

My taste is bad?  Have you really listened to your so-called music?  Not to mention your horrible taste in decorations.” Light snapped.

L snickered, but Sachiko shook her head. “Oh no, you haven’t seen anything yet.  Wait until we put the tree up.”  Sachiko looked between her children with a wary tension in her eyes.  “I hope you like Mariah Carey, dear.”

L opened his mouth to ask, but Sachiko turned the talk to what Sayu was studying in school, taking it around the table. L had the feeling he’d understand what she meant soon.

 


 

L watched in stunned awe as setting up the Christmas tree—something he’d always considered a perfectly civil affair—erupted into a shouting match. Apparently, Light and Sayu disagreed about every aspect of the tree.

Lights (he laughed to himself): Light preferred simple white, while Sayu liked multi-colored.  Decorations: Light preferred delicate, beautiful ornaments, while Sayu liked cute and cheesy.  Tinsel:  Light hated the stuff, while Sayu insisted.  Even the tree-topper was a point of contention.

“Hot chocolate?” Sachiko smiled at him, her eyes soft. After he accepted it, her eyes trailed to her children.  “This happens every year.  They can never seem to compromise on any of this.  I can’t figure it out.”

L watched them gesturing at their tree-toppers of choice, shouting about whose turn it was, while Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” played on repeat in the background. Light’s cheeks were flushed with heat from all the shouting he’d been doing.  It was strange, seeing Light lose his cool so completely.  Even when they fought at school, he still appeared to be in perfect control of himself.

“He never really lets go in public.” Sachiko said, still watching them with a soft smile.  Light looked like he was going to strangle his sister with the cord attached to the angel topper in his hands.  “He’s so worried about other people that he forgets to be himself sometimes.  But I’m sure you’ve already noticed that.  He’s mentioned how perceptive you are more than once,” she said, laughing a little.

L thought about saying a lot of things, about how much he liked seeing this side of Light, how much he liked spending time with Light at all, but what he said instead was, “Why Mariah Carey?”

Sachiko laughed again, louder. “They hate every song the other likes, except ‘All I Want for Christmas is You.’  It’s the only song they can agree on.  If I want them to stop fighting, it’s the only song that will work that doesn’t eventually annoy me.”

L was about to make another comment when the front door opened. A man L assumed must be Soichiro strode in, frowning at his children.

“I thought there was some kind of domestic dispute. What on earth is all this yelling about?” he asked, glancing between his children.

Sayu beamed, “Daddy!” Hugging him, she looked up and said firmly, “You like the star on top, right?  Not that silly old angel?”

Soichiro looked concerned, frowning down at her, before looking between Light’s scowl and Sachiko’s resigned smile. His eyes fell on L.  Despite himself, L sat up a little straighter.

“Who’s this?”

“This is L, dear. I did tell you that I invited Light’s roommate to stay with us, didn’t I?”

“Oh, right. It’s good to meet you, L.  I’m Soichiro.”  He turned back to his children.  “What has gotten into the two of you?  You never fight like this.”

Sachiko huffed a quiet laugh. “This is what you miss whenever you work late during the holidays.”

“Every year?”

“Every year.”

The man shook his head in amazement before sighing, “We had the star last year, didn’t we? Why don’t we put the angel up this year?”  Sayu pouted and whined, but Light said nothing, smiling victoriously (his Grinch smile).

L thought it was interesting that Light’s shouting stopped in front of his father, but said nothing. That wasn’t really any of his business, and it wasn’t really the time to point it out, anyway.  Light had punched him for less.

 


 

When L heard people beginning to move around, he slipped into the kitchen, curious to see who was awake so early. Sachiko glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled.

“My son mentioned you were an early riser.” She turned back to her cooking.  “Since you’re up, you can eat breakfast with my husband and I.  Light and Sayu won’t be up for an hour or two yet.”

“When Mr. Yagami goes to work, I’d like to play the Christmas music I like, if that’s alright with you,” L said, sitting at the table and watching her cook.

Sachiko’s head whipped around. Her eyes seemed to flash.  “Whose music do you prefer?”

“Neither of your children’s. I prefer older songs.  Carols, and cheesy kid’s songs.  My brothers are in middle school, so they’re beginning to grow out of them, sadly.”

“Don’t tell my children, but you’re my favorite,” she said, voice low.

“Sachiko, you can’t adopt Light’s roommate.” Soichiro sat heavily at the table, fixing his tie.

“I’m not going to adopt him, but if Light chases him away, I’ll never forgive him.”

L smiled, ducking his head. “If anyone would do the chasing, it’s probably me, so I don’t think you have much to worry about there, Mrs. Yagami.”

“Please, dear, call me Sachiko, I insist.”

 


 

Light came downstairs for breakfast and was immediately accosted by “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” When he made it to the kitchen, L and his mother were singing happily.  His mother was cooking his and Sayu’s breakfast while L cut out shaped sugar cookies.

Light narrowed his eyes.

“Betrayed,” Light said, sitting down with a heavy sigh. “And by my own mother.  How cruel.”

“Drama queen,” L teased, swaying his hips along with the music. “Your mother and I share some favorite Christmas carols, did you know?  We’ve decided to keep the radio to ourselves all day, in fact.”

Light grumbled under his breath, dragging his eyes away from L.

His mother hummed, finishing up breakfast and setting it on two plates. She put them on the table before turning back to L.  “Before we got distracted by Rudolph, you were telling me about your brothers.  Would you like to continue?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” L said while Light began to eat, watching the two curiously. “Near has been begging me to send him math puzzles and building toys for Christmas.  Matt wants a new video game, some shooting game, I forget the name.  And Mello hasn’t spoken to me since I broke the news I wouldn’t be able to fly back.”

“Oh no, the poor dear must miss you terribly.”

“Probably. He’ll likely speak to me on Christmas,” L shrugged.  “I got him a subscription to a program he can use to teach himself languages, so I think I’ll be forgiven.”

“Your brother is interested in languages?”

“Very.” Light knew L’s expression must be fond.  He wished L would turn around so he could check.  “Whenever I began learning a new language, he always made me teach him.  All three of them know sign language, but Mello has learned a few more.  Right now he’s only conversational, but he’s aiming for fluency in Russian, German, Japanese, and Mandarin.”

“Did I mention that L and his brothers are all geniuses, Mom?” Light chimed in, smiling. “Mello’s the blonde, isn’t he?”

“He is.”

“He doesn’t like me.”

L glanced over his shoulder at Light, smirking. “No, he doesn’t.  Matt likes you, though.”

“Near’s still unsure then?”

“Always. I wouldn’t worry about Mello, though.  He’s just… envious.”  L turned back around.  “I… talk about you rather often.”

Light raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. If L could keep quiet about the friend thing the night before, then he could keep quiet about this.  “Maybe I should try writing some kind of puzzle for Near to send along with yours…”

“That could be interesting, actually. He knows me well enough to predict my thought process…”  L turned his head again.  “Would you like to work on them with me later tonight?”

“That sounds great,” Light said.

L grinned, turning to hand his mother the tray of cookies and revealing the atrocious sweater of the day. Light flinched, bumping the table with his knee.

“That sweater is an abomination.”  Light wanted to tell him to take it off, but was pretty sure something like that could be misconstrued.  He wanted the sweater off so he could burn it, not so he could get a better look at L without a lumpy sweater in the way.

“You don’t like Rudolph?” L’s grin shifted into a smirk. L pressed a button and the nose lit up red.  Light thought he might cry.

“You couldn’t pick a sweater that isn’t an eyesore?”

“Come, now, Light, I think it looks cute,” his mother cut in, frowning.

“It’s hideous.”

“How mean, Light, insulting my cute sweater.” L pursed his lips in an exaggerated pout.  Light let his head drop to the table and groaned.

 


 

A few days later, Light burst into L’s room, eyes wide and darting. L frowned at him over his laptop, hunching over it a little more.

“Is something wrong, Light?” L bit at his thumbnail.

Light glanced over his shoulder. “My sister invited my ex-girlfriend over, so I need an excuse to leave immediately.  Come out with me.”

“Come out where?”

“Shit, I don’t know, ice skating? Whatever you want, just help me escape.”  Light looked desperate, more so than L had ever seen.

“I want to go to the bakery down the street for cake, and then we can skate,” L decided, closing his laptop. He scooped up his wallet and phone, shoving them into his pockets, hunching over a little.  Light looked like he was strongly considering hugging him, eyes wide and grateful, cheeks flushed.

L opened his mouth to say something, but Light shook himself out of whatever thought he was having and said, “Thank you, L.”

“What are friends for, Light?” But, well, Light had never actually said thank you.  They’d known each other for a little over six months, and he’d never thanked him for anything.  L smiled.

 


 

As soon as they sat down at the bakery, L leaned forward, “So, Light had a girlfriend?”

Light grimaced. “Technically?  We dated for a few months, but I really didn’t like her.  I mostly felt obligated, but she’s convinced that we’re soul mates or something.”  Light squeezed the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache.  “It’s awful.  Every time I come home, this happens.  She and my sister still talk, so…”

“So she knows when you’re home and when you’re away,” L finished for him. “Why did you agree to date her in the first place if you didn’t like her?”

“Oh, uh,” Light glanced away. “Well, at around that point, there was a rumor going around school, and I needed to dispel it as quickly as possible.  Dating Misa accomplished that for me.  I felt bad about it, but she asked me out around the same time the rumor started, and I impulsively said yes.  Worst decision I’ve made in years.”

Light refused to meet his eyes, but L had already come to a conclusion. There was only one kind of rumor that could be ended by dating a girl.  That Light was still avoiding the topic meant that the rumor was probably true and something he didn’t want people knowing about for some reason.

“Have you considered telling her the truth?”

“Absolutely not. And I’d appreciate you keeping this to yourself as well.  I can tell you’ve put it together.”

L shrugged, but nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’ve had rumors like that spread about me as well.”

“And?”

“I let them circulate. I don’t care what others think, and well, they’re half right,” L said, taking a bite of his cake.  Light’s eyebrows rose, but his shoulders lost their tension.

Light sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know how you can be so casual about it.  People knowing changes the way they perceive you, no matter what they say afterward.  It closes doors.”

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re horrible, no matter what I learn about you,” L said, batting his eyes at Light. Light looked startled by his own laugh, a hand slapping over his mouth afterward.  L was a little disappointed that Light was still holding himself back, but then, he was still sitting with his feet up and slouching ridiculously.

Thanks, asshole.”  Light rolled his eyes, recovering his composure.  “So, have you ever ice skated before?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Then when you fall, I promise I won’t laugh.”

L smirked. He considered mentioning his experience with rollerblading, but decided against it.  Light could put it together on his own.  His outrage would be entertaining.

 


 

Light fumed quietly beside him as they skated in effortless circles. L smiled, content and self-satisfied.  He’d wobbled for the first few steps before finding his footing.  Light kept waiting for him to fall until it became clear it wasn’t going to happen.

“But you slouch.  Your balance shouldn’t…” Light frowned at him.  “You rollerblade, don’t you.”

L smiled. He had a feeling that Light suspected his posture wasn’t as bad as he let people believe, but Light probably wouldn’t know what to do with that information.

“You let me believe,” Light froze, cutting himself off. “What the—What the hell is she doing here?  When we get home, I’m going to kill my sister—justifiable homicide—you won’t be able to stop me.”

L followed Light’s gaze to a beautiful blonde glancing around the rink like she was looking for someone. She looked familiar, actually.  L jolted when he made the connection.

“You dated Amane Misa, the idol?”

“Against my better judgment.”

“She’s going to notice you soon. What’s your plan?”

“Light, there you are,” Misa called, skating up to them before Light could tell L what he wanted to do. Her voice was cute, but surprisingly shrill for an idol.  “I’ve been looking for you!  Sayu mentioned you’d gone ice skating, and—who’s this?”

Light took his hand, but hesitated, so L took the initiative. “I’m L, Light’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Sayu said you brought your roommate home, not your boyfriend.”  Misa frowned.  “Light, what’s the meaning of this?”

“I didn’t really want to say anything, but I’m really not interested in you, Misa.  I’m sorry,” Light said, voice surprisingly gentle.

“What are you talking about, Light?”

“I just can’t feel the same about you as you do for me. I’m sorry.”

When Misa started to cry, Light and L helped her off the rink and guided her to an unoccupied bench. Light seemed to be feeling guilty, though L didn’t really understand why.

“Is there someone we can call to pick you up, Miss Amane?” L bit at his thumb and retook Light’s hand.  “A friend?  Family member?”

She pulled out her phone, staring at it, forlorn. “Rem would probably pick me up, but she’s just going to yell at me…”  Her lower lip wobbled.

“Why don’t I talk to her and make sure she doesn’t yell at you?”

Misa watched L through watery eyes before nodding, passing him the phone.

When Rem picked up, L said, “Hello, I’m here with Miss Amane. She needs someone to pick her up.”

“Who’s this?” a husky, but feminine voice demanded. “Is she hurt?”

“Not physically. I’m L, Light’s boyfriend.”

Rem cursed under her breath. “Where are you?”

“The ice rink near the movie theater.”

“I’ll be there in five. I told her to drop it, but she never listens to me.  Put her on, would you?”

“I promised I’d ask you not to yell at her when you saw her.”

“Yell at…? I would never.  She’s crying, isn’t she?  I’m not going to yell at her.  I’m going to take her home and look after her.  She always assumes…  Never mind.  Will you hand her the phone, please?”

“Of course,” L said, handing the phone back to Misa. “Rem wishes to speak to you.  She promised not to yell at you.”

“Thanks,” Misa said, voice soft. “You’re nicer to me than you probably should be, all things considered.”  She pressed the phone to her ear before L or Light could respond.  “Hi, Remmy.  Sorry for making you come get me.”

Light started walking, pulling L with him and leaving Misa at the bench.

“Thanks for that,” Light said, keeping his eyes forward. “Hopefully now she’ll leave me alone.  I wish she wasn’t so hurt by it, but…”

“There’s nothing you can really do about her feelings. Those are for her to deal with.  Her friend seems nice in any case.”

Light sighed. “Do you mind if we stop skating today?  I’d like to go home.”

“Of course,” L said, shifting their course to the skate return. L remembered that he was holding Light’s hand only when he bent to remove his skates.  It had felt so natural, he hadn’t even thought about it.  Judging by the blush on his cheeks, Light had forgotten as well.

Neither of them brought it up, and the walk home was spent in companionable silence.

 


 

“L, I swear to God, if you don’t stop eating the gingerbread before I can build the house, I’ll shove the rest of it down your throat.”

“So violent, Light,” L said around a mouthful of what should have been the house’s door. “What does it matter when it’s going to be eaten at the end anyway?”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Light sighed, focusing his attention on decorating the little people instead. L was just going to keep eating his building materials anyway.  “When you spend Christmas in England, how much does this frustrate Near?  I’m sure he likes to build the houses.”

“He builds them before I get home. And they’re not houses, so much as cities.  He calls me Godzilla and lets me eat my fill.”  L smiled, apparently remembering.  Stealing more gumdrops, he pulled out his phone.  “I think I have a picture of his last city, actually.”

Light groaned at the detail and sheer size of the boy’s creation. “I give up.  There’s no point, clearly.  Eat what you want, and leave me here to die in cookie obscurity.”

“What’s this about cookie obscurity?” Soichiro asked from the doorway, still holding his briefcase. Light’s cheeks flooded with color and heat.  L raised an eyebrow at him, but mercifully said nothing.

“Nothing,” Light said. “Welcome home, Father.”

“Is your mother home?”

“No, she went out shopping for Christmas dinner.” Light watched Soichiro’s face turn guilty.  Light frowned.  “You’re working late on Christmas, aren’t you.”

“It was either me or Aizawa, and…”

Light sighed. “Mom’s going to be disappointed, but I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“I was hoping to catch her while she was home…” Soichiro paused as the front door opened.

“I’m home,” Sachiko called from the entryway. “Oh, hello, dear.  What a surprise!”  Sachiko smiled at him, passing him one of the heavier bags of groceries and carrying the rest past him into the kitchen.  “How’s your gingerbread house coming, Light?”

“L ate my building materials, so I stuck to decorating the little people,” Light said, getting up to take his tray into the kitchen. “L and I are going to move things to my room.  See you in a bit.”  Light kissed his mom’s cheek before heading back around toward the stairs.  L followed him, carrying what remained of the building materials to munch on upstairs.

When they were in Light’s room with the door closed, L sat down on the floor, looking up at him thoughtfully. “Giving them privacy was quite mature of you, Light.”

“Not really. Father doesn’t know, but Mom and I developed a code for when he has bad news for either of us.  I kiss her cheek, and she ruffles my hair.”  Light sat down at his desk, leaning back.  “The last time she ruffled my hair was…  Either high school graduation or my orientation day for the college.”

L frowned. “I have a question, Light.”

“Okay…?” Light raised an eyebrow.  “Normally you just ask.  How bad is this question?”

“Not bad, but it is potentially invasive. Why do you perform your public self in front of your father?”

“Why do I… I don’t think I understand your question.”

“In front of your mother and sister, you’re relaxed and what I suspect is normal for you—highly intelligent, but not perfect or completely mature. Human.  In front of your father, you put on that perfect face you use in front of strangers and while in public.  Why?”  L looked away.  “Of course, you’re welcome to not answer.  As I suspected, it’s probably too much.”

“Hm, not really. I just never gave it much thought.  My mom is reassured by evidence of my humanity.  Seeing the Perfect Son makes her worry.  My sister looks up to me, but likes playing, so I let myself be more childish for her.”  Light paused to think, ignoring L’s expression of surprise, before continuing.  “My father, on the other hand, wants to see his Perfect Son, not someone childish and immature.  His son, as far as he’s concerned, spends all his time studying, as befitting the top high school student in Japan, never picks fights, and will one day become a police officer and get married to some woman.”

“And is that what you want?”

Light smiled, but knew it was a cold approximation. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?  Being a police officer will be interesting, at least.  Although I’ll be putting off marriage as long as I can.  If I cite my mom’s unhappiness, he’ll never bring the topic up again, so there’s that at least.”

“Thank you for your candor, Light.” L smiled, looking surprisingly gentle.  “I didn’t think you would answer, but I feel like I understand you a little better now.”

“My turn, then. A question for a question.”  L nodded for him to continue.  “Why do you act so strangely when you’re in public?  If my public face is Perfection, then yours is probably Eccentricity.  Why?”

L looked taken aback before laughing, ducking his head. “As expected of Light.  I’m surprised you noticed.  I suppose I may have dropped some of the behaviors since coming here.”

“You sat normally at dinner the other night,” Light confirmed. “You’ve also been eating somewhat more normal foods.”

L leaned back against the bookcase behind him. “I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.  I was always a little strange, but people could convince themselves otherwise if I wasn’t actively eccentric.  I started picking up weird habits so people would stop looking disappointed when they remembered I wasn’t normal.  It was something of a defense mechanism.” L glanced away, eyes settling on something behind him.  “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised I’ve slipped up.  I like being here.  Your house feels… safe, I guess.”

Light felt his cheeks heat at the admission. He’d never…  No one had ever trusted him like that before.  Even knowing most of his behavior was an act…

“By the time we get back to the dorm, I’ll probably have stopped altogether,” L said as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Thank you,” Light said, watching his hands, cheeks still warm. “I think that makes us even.”

“I’d certainly hope so,” L said, voice teasing. “So tell me, Mr. Imperfect, how long have you been dreaming about lighting my sweaters on fire?”

“Since ‘oh deer.’” Light answered immediately. “How long have you known?”

“Since the day before I started. It’s the reason I started wearing them.”  L grinned widely.

Light laughed, surprised to find he was more amused than irritated. It was kind of funny, imagining L picking out sweaters he knew would be obnoxious, just to get under Light’s skin.  Something about that felt… surprisingly good, actually.  Flattering.  Like L wanted to get past Light’s façade any way he could, even if it meant picking fights.

“And here I thought you’d go for my throat,” L said. “You’re full of surprises today, Light.”

Light opened his mouth to say something in return, but was interrupted by a door slamming. He jumped a little, standing up and peeking out his own door.  Sayu was doing the same.

“Was it Mom or Dad, do you think?” Sayu crossed her arms, fidgeting a little.

“I’m not sure. I’ll go look, and I’ll let you know.”  Light glanced back into his room.  “Sorry, L, I’ll be back in a few.”  L waved him away, dark eyes wide.

He checked the front door to see whose shoes were missing, unsurprised to see they were his father’s. He sighed, heading to his parents’ room, knocking softly.

“Come in, Light.” When he opened the door, Sachiko smiled at him, but looked tired.  “I’m sorry.  I must have startled the three of you.”

“A little,” Light admitted. “Dad left to go back to work?”

Sachiko’s sigh was answer enough. “Is one Christmas dinner with my whole family really too much to ask for?”

“No, but you know how Father is.”

“I do,” she sighed. “If he wasn’t like this, I probably wouldn’t have married him.  His dedication and loyalty were the first things I noticed about him before I decided to date him, after all.”

“I thought Father said he was the one who asked you out.” Light sat down beside her, deciding to distract her as best he could.  She smiled at him.

“I let your father do the asking—he’s always been so traditional—but I decided the first time I met him that I’d marry him. It took a week to get him to ask me out, and six months before he agreed that we should get married.”  His mom smiled, running her fingers through his hair.  “For what it’s worth, I’ve never regretted it.  I wish your father would make more of an effort to come home on time, but I love him, faults and all.”

Light leaned against her, letting his head rest on her shoulder while she petted his hair. After a moment, she laughed once, softly.

“Your father still likes to think you take after him,” she said, her smile audible. “He’s wrong, though.  Sayu is exactly like him, but you are just like I was when I was your age.  Smarter, but just as driven to get what you want.”  Sachiko sighed.  “I just hope you’ll choose someone who loves you and makes you happy, not someone who loves the idea of you.”

Light felt a little thrown, hesitating before asking, “And what if they aren’t… traditionally acceptable?”

Sachiko hummed to herself, still stroking his hair. “Whatever your choice, you will always be my son.  Don’t worry about your father.  If it becomes necessary, I’ll talk to him.”  She pressed a kiss to the side of his head.  “If you’re happy, that’s all I care about.  Now, go tell your sister everything’s fine.  I’m going to start dinner.  With any luck, your father will be home on time.”

Light smiled and nodded. “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’ll be fine. And I’m sure your sister will come see me once you’ve given her the all clear.”

Light had a feeling she was right. When it came to Sayu and him, she usually was.

 


 

The next day broke cold and cloudy. By mid-afternoon, it was snowing steadily.  Sayu’s squeals of excitement were overridden by her realization that Christmas Eve was the following night.  She flew out of the house for last minute shopping.

Light smirked as she went, raising an eyebrow at L. “What about you?  Forget to buy any presents?”

“Of course not,” L rolled his eyes. “I bought your present weeks ago, and I bought your parents and sister gifts just last week.”

Light masked his surprise quickly. He wasn’t going to dwell on how sweet it was that L bought gifts for his family.  He wasn’t.

The rest of the day was surprisingly slow-paced. Everything felt muffled by the heavy blanket of snow steadily piling up, so Light made the executive decision to stay indoors and drink hot cocoa.  L made up a plate of cookies to go with his and they settled on the couch to watch old Christmas movies.  They began with Rudolph and worked their way through the classics—Light feigned disinterest for the first ten minutes before giving it up.  L was hardly in a position to judge him.

By the time Sayu returned, it was dark, and they were starting on the Grinch. She threw her bags in her room before flopping down on the floor with her own (smaller) plate of cookies and mug of cocoa.  They both glanced at him when the Grinch smiled, but he deigned to ignore it.

He was having a pleasant day; they weren’t going to ruin it for him. And if, by the end, he was feeling drowsy and letting himself lean ever so slightly into L, well, no one but L noticed, and L never said a word.

 


 

Christmas Eve dawned cold and clear, several inches of snow piled up on their front walk. When L and Sayu came out of their rooms after breakfast, they were both in gloves, hats, scarves, and heavy coats.  Light sighed at the twin looks of disappointment leveled at him.

He took a sip of his coffee. “I’ll join you after.”

L and Sayu grinned at each other before racing out the door like children. Light was distantly worried that they were getting along a little too well, before deciding it was probably fine.  Sighing, he put his plate and mug in the sink before getting ready to brave the cold.

By the time he made it outside, L and Sayu were making snow angels while trying to destroy the other person’s. Light rolled his eyes.

“Children, play nice,” Light scolded with a smirk. Ignoring their protests, he sat down and started working on a snowman.  Small, but sufficient.  As he was piling together the snow for the head, it occurred to him how strangely quiet it had become.

When he turned to investigate, he was pelted in the face with a well-thrown snowball. L grinned, unrepentant, and high-fived Sayu without looking away.  Light brushed himself off slowly, considering his next course of action carefully.

“I thought we were friends, L,” Light said, voice soft as if he was hurt by L’s actions. L narrowed his eyes, but Sayu was obviously hesitating.  In the next moment, he was hurling his own snowball back at L, a reckless grin spreading across his face, cheeks aching with it.

“There are no friends in snowball fights, Light,” L reminded him, beaning him in the head once more. Light’s return shot knocked his hat off.

Sayu joined in properly then, until all three of them were laughing and shouting, pelting each other with snow. In a particularly inspired move, Light shoved a handful of snow down the back of Sayu’s coat—a move immediately copied by L with cold precision, both siblings shrieking at the shock.

Light had just finished tackling L and was starting to pile snow on top of him with Sayu’s help when his father’s car pulled up the drive. He felt the light warmth in his chest freeze and grow heavy, settling in the pit of his stomach.  L noticed immediately, helping him up without saying a word.

Sayu seemed disappointed, but was easily distracted. “Daddy, welcome home!”

“What are you three doing out here in the cold?” Soichiro glanced over them all before laughing.  “The first snow of the year.  Of course, you must have been having a snowball fight.  How nostalgic.”

He smiled, and for the first time, Light didn’t feel like his father was disappointed in a childish pursuit. The tension eased out of his shoulders a little at a time.

“The three of you look like you’re freezing; you should hurry inside and warm up before you catch cold.”

When they were all changed into dry clothes and wrapped up in blankets, Sachiko came out of the kitchen, smile and eyes brighter than they’d been for a few days. Light was glad for it.

“We’re having something of an early Christmas. Soichiro got tonight off, so he could celebrate with us.”  Sachiko glanced down the hall, smiling toward their bedroom door where he was changing out of his work clothes.  She looked like a woman in love.

The rest of Light’s tension drained away.

“Now, why don’t the three of you rest up while we cook dinner, hm? We can exchange presents after we eat.”

“Where’s the wrapping paper?” Sayu asked, eyes darting with a mild panic.

Light laughed, nudging for L to follow him upstairs. Settled in their now-accustomed positions, L on the floor and Light at his desk, they each took deep breaths, relaxing.

“Seeing as your father interrupted us, I suppose that snowball fight came out as a draw,” L said.

“I was clearly winning, L, don’t be absurd.”

“Absurd? You weren’t anywhere near winning.  I was going to flip you and fill your hat with snow next.”

Light laughed. “You certainly would have tried.”

The tension seemed to spark in the air, and Light felt giddy with it. He wanted to…  He wasn’t sure, actually, but a good start would be rehashing their fight from earlier to prove he would have been victorious.  Although having L in that kind of position while they were in his bedroom had very different connotations…

When he met L’s eyes again, L licked his lips.

Light was about to say something, though he wasn’t quite sure what, when the door opened.

“Light, I need tape, do you have any?” Sayu gasped, leaning on the doorway.

“What? I do, but why didn’t you just get some from the kitchen?”

“I tried, but Mom and Dad put up mistletoe,” Sayu said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m glad they’re both happy again, but gross.”

Light tossed her the tape, wrinkling his nose as well. When the door shut again, L laughed.  Light tried not to get distracted by it, but it was less restrained than usual, better for it.

“I think you may both be twelve,” he said between laughs. “Your faces.”

“Imagine your father figure making out with a person he liked, then.”  Light huffed.

L paused, tipping his head and tapping his lip before grimacing. “I see your point.  My apologies for teasing you.”

Light took his turn to laugh. “Apology accepted.  Your face just now—priceless.”

They both smiled at each other, lapsing into an easy quiet.

 


 

After dinner, Light faced his present from L with trepidation. His other gifts had all been thoughtful or sensible, but now…  Light sighed, biting the bullet.  He methodically opened the wrapping, strip by strip, revealing the most hideous sweater he’d seen so far.  It had a kitten with a ball of red yarn on it and said, of all things, Meow-y Christmas.

Light thought he was going to cry.

L doubled over in silent laughter when he finished opening his. Happy Paw-lidays, coupled with a puppy with a red ribbon on its head.  Equally hideous, and somehow a match in color to the one L had gotten him—a “festive” shade of green.  Light wished he had the strength to regret his choice, but L was obviously enjoying himself, so any disgust he might have felt was swiftly stifled under the warm pleasure at his friend’s happiness.

His mother cooed over both sweaters and insisted they try them on. Light swore to himself that he would destroy her camera if it was the last thing he did.

After the family portion was over and his family split up to get ready for bed, Light touched L’s arm. “I have an actual present for you upstairs.  I’ll be right back.”

“I do as well. Meet back here?”

Light agreed and they both hurried to grab their gifts.

L ripped into his without any kind of finesse, revealing the soft, cream sweater Light had gotten him weeks ago, something he could wear instead of the usual hideous assortment.

“It’s so soft,” L said with wonder lacing his tone. “And it’s pretty.  Light, this is lovely.”

“I thought this one would suit you. As an added bonus, it’s easy on the eyes.”  Light blushed a little and fidgeted with the present in his hands, stifling the urge to add ‘like you’ to the end of his sentence.  He wasn’t a girl.

L’s present to him was smaller, so Light opened the neat wrapping slowly to draw out the experience. He was surprised to find a beautiful red fountain pen, easily the nicest he’d ever seen.  His breath caught and his cheeks felt warm.  The metal of the casing was smooth and cool to the touch.

“You always buy the nicest ball point pens you can find, but I thought you might prefer writing in that fancy journal you got with this.” L smiled, his eyes warm and dark.

“L, I… I don’t know what to say.  It’s…  It’s amazing,” Light breathed.

“I tested it in the store; it writes even better than you’d expect.”

Light gripped it a little harder. He wanted to either test it out or kiss L, he wasn’t sure yet which urge was stronger.

L stood, cheeks a little red in the dim light. “I’m going to get a snack.  Do you want anything?”

Light followed him, leaning in the doorway as he piled a plate with cookies. Light felt hopelessly fond, not quite sure what he was supposed to do with that knowledge.  When L shot him a glance, Light smiled, glad when he returned it.

L stopped in the doorway with him, glancing above his head pointedly. When Light checked, Sayu’s complaint from that afternoon registered. Mistletoe.

“It’s considered bad luck not to kiss under mistletoe,” L said, voice hushed.

“Then I guess we’ll have to. Don’t want to risk bad luck.”

They leaned in, their lips fitting together neatly, warm and steady against each other. Light sighed as L shifted his angle, pressing in closer.  Light pressed his hands to either side of L’s face, holding him like he might leave at any moment, but L only pulled away once to set his plate down, arms immediately winding around Light’s waist.

Light wasn’t sure how long they kissed, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. He’d never felt more at ease, pressed into the doorway in his parents’ kitchen, kissed senseless by his infuriating, wonderful roommate.

The memory of it was enough to ease the embarrassment he felt walking around the next day, and the promise of a repeat performance was all that kept him from ripping Meow-y Christmas and Happy Paw-lidays to ribbons.  That and the smile L gave him before lacing their fingers together.

 


 

“Oh, come on,” Mello groaned, heartfelt.  “You had to pick that one?”

“Pay up,” Matt said, grinning sharply at his game.

“I like the kitten,” Near said while Matt and Mello bickered.

L tried to hide his amusement, but failed, taking Light’s hand in his. Light didn’t seem surprised by the change, only sighed at Near.

“Your brother has horrible taste in sweaters. Please don’t encourage him.”

“Oh, come on, wearing it wasn’t that bad, was it?” L let himself smile. Light’s expression said volumes about how bad he thought it was.  And yet, he’d worn it all day without complaint.  L wasn’t sure what kept him from begging for the ‘sweet release of death’ as he’d done after just seeing the first sweater at the beginning of the month, but was happy regardless.

After about an hour, Quillish reminded the boys that they were going to brunch soon, and that it was time for L and Light to eat dinner. The goodbyes were quick and a little sweet.  They made plans to Skype again at the end of January before Quillish said goodbye and cut the connection.

L closed his laptop, eyeing Light with interest.

“I really hate that sweater,” Light said, eyes falling to it for a moment before he met L’s gaze from beneath his lashes. “I really think you should take it off.”

“I couldn’t possibly take off such a wonderful gift,” L protested, grinning at Light’s mounting frustration.  He leaned closer.  “You’ll just have to do it for me.”

Light tackled him to the ground, sending them both into hysterics as they stripped off each other’s sweaters. L missed his mouth when he tried to kiss him and huffed when the second try missed as well, Light still laughing.  He tugged Light down into a proper kiss, sighing happily as he melted into him.

If Christmas was any indication, the rest of the year was going to be the best he’d had so far. When L voiced the thought, Light smiled against his mouth and agreed.