When Light woke up in L's bed for the first time, he had been relieved to see that the detective had not ditched him and was in fact still lying with his head on Light's stomach and a laptop balanced on his knees. It was then that L turned to look at him and said flatly, almost as if the concept bored him, "I've no regrets if you don't, Love."

After that, Light was spending so much time in L's bed that he forgot what color his own sheets were at home. The teen decided weeks ago that yes, this was the beginning of love, and there was nothing he could do to stop it from making his heart pound madly in his chest whenever the detective was around. Still, neither of them had uttered the three dreaded words as of yet, despite both knowing how true they were.

In this case, it's easy to see why Light freaked out a little when he awoke to find himself utterly alone and L-less for the first time in months. He must be in the living room, he thought, struggling to calm himself down enough to pull on some clothes. He refused to admit that he felt lost without L, because that was just absurd. Light Yagami was a strong, independent person, and he could take care of himself, thank you very—

L wasn't in the living room, either. Light fought down his rising panic for the sake of the red headed kid hunched over a Sega console in the middle of the floor. On the television mounted on the wall, Light could see a blue car speeding past multiple black ones.

"Excuse me," Light began, remembering to be polite until he figured the kid was trespassing and would be kicked out soon anyway. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

The red head hardly looked up from his video game. "I'm Matt, a friend of L's," he grunted. His voice sounded familiar but strange, as if he was purposely trying to disguise it.

"Where's L, then?" Light asked, walking over to stand beside the Matt kid.

Now that he got a closer look, this Matt didn't seem much younger than Light himself. He had on a pair of jeans and a striped shirt, and Light noticed a tan vest flung carelessly across the couch. Light also found it hilarious that Matt wasn't wearing any shoes or socks; was everyone close to L destined to be a social retard?

Light found the answer to his question when Matt paused the game and turned to look at him. The red head was wearing swimming goggles that obscured most of the top half of his face, and one of those candy cigarettes (the kind that was made of pure sugar) was dangling from his lips.

"Keep your pants on, Yagami," Matt drawled. "Your precious boyfriend hasn't deserted you." Light was left gaping as the red head returned to his video game. "In fact, quite the opposite, my dear, misguided friend. I guess L figured you two were getting serious enough that it warranted a visit from the whole famn damily, if you catch my drift."

"And what the heck is that supposed to mean?" Light demanded, blushing furiously. How had Matt known that he and L were together? Did L tell him? They had agreed that Light's father would be the first to know…

"You might've figured out that Watari's real name is Quillish Wammy by now," Matt explained while narrowly avoiding a well-placed, animated tree at a bend in the road. "And if you cared to Google the man, you might've found that Mr. Wammy owns an orphanage for gifted children called Wammy's House. I along with my friends Mello and Near have lived there for the past decade or so. Since we're—damn it, left! I said left!—Since we're training to succeed L after he dies, we've become very close to him and Mr. Wammy. L often refers to us as his little brothers. God, car number six is relentless."

They both fell silent, the only noise in the room being the muted squeal of tires and the crunch of metal. "You never answered my question," Light reminded him quietly. "Where is L?"

"Probably at the airport with Mel and Near. How the hell am I supposed to know?" Matt demanded, giving the candy cigarette a vicious gnaw. "Oh, and by the way, besides L, L's groupies, and I, you're the only one who knows Mr. Wammy is working on the Kira case, so if he dies sometime soon, you're Kira."

"You have 'related to L' written all over you," Light muttered wearily. "Look, I don't know if he's told you, but the Kira killings have stopped completely. There is no case anymore."

"Not what I heard," Matt argued. His words were oddly in time with his fingers as he punched out some sort of level-up code onto his console. "There were two Kiras, therefore, there have to be two Death Notes. The Second Kira's notebook still has yet to be found. Also, L told me Kira's Death Note reacted…" Matt glanced at him. "…differently to you than it did to anyone else."

Light had to admit, he felt a little betrayed that L was going around telling all of his little acquaintances about their secrets. (Because didn't L say that Light was his first and only friend?) Light could understand about their relationship, but the magical killing notebook was an entirely different story that involved a potential World War III.

"It burned me, so I dropped it," Light snapped, holding up his hands to show two fading scars across his palms. It had been months after Higuchi was caught, and the skin was still slightly sensitive. "I never touched it again after that. How does that make me Kira?"

"Well, after you allegedly 'never touched it again,' the Kira killings have stopped," Matt suggested. Light ground his teeth together and let out a guttural sound from the back of his throat. Matt turned to look at him incredulously. "Did you just growl at me?" he demanded.

"It's hard enough dealing with one Ryuzaki," Light grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And you say two more are on their way?"

"Yup."

"Damn." Light sat on the couch and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm calling L," he muttered.

"He won't pick up," Matt said, frowning at the screen when the announcer declared him to be in seventh place.

"And why is that?" Light demanded, dialing anyway. "Is he too good to talk to me now that he has his precious clones to hold intelligent conversations with?"

"No," Matt said with a smirk. "He left his cell on the coffee table, dumbass."

Light looked down in surprise when said phone began ringing; a few seconds later, he sighed and hung up.

"By the way, how did you get here before these Mello and Near people did if you all live together?" Light asked suspiciously.

"I was doing some solo detective work in Japan when L invited us over, whereas Wammy's House is in England," Matt said. He glanced at Light and smiled. "You're looking for a reason to kick me out until L gets back, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Light replied. "How do I know your cohorts didn't kidnap L and force you to stay behind to stall any attempts at getting help?"

"One, because no self respecting evil genius would be caught dead with such a stupid plan," Matt drawled, pausing his game to look Light in the eye. "Two, because I know way too much about L to be lying."

"Name one thing," Light snapped. "You've hardly talked about him at all."

"He doesn't sleep as much as he should—"

"That's a well-known fact!" Light protested.

"—because he has nightmares about the criminals he puts behind bars."

"Oh," Light muttered. "I don't even know if that's true or not, so—"

"He doesn't wear socks because they could be the only thing standing between life and death in the middle of a capoeira fight," Matt continued. "He holds things the way he does because he's a germaphobe. He eats sweet things because stress over cases leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He curls up into a ball whenever he can because it makes him feel safe and reminds him of when his parents were alive. Finally," Matt took a deep breath and looked away, chomping the candy cigarette in half. "He is madly, head-over-heels in love with Light Yagami."

Light stayed silent. Yes, this was a lot of new, interesting information to consider, but the very last sentence floored him. He had severely underestimated the rush of joy his romance novels often told him about, and this was just coming from some random kid he didn't know. Imagining those words uttered in his lover's sexy baritone was almost unbearable. Light went to reply, still unsure of what he could say to something like that, but he was distracted by the door opening.

Three figures, L, a blonde, and an albino, strolled in like they owned the place (though it was only true in regards to the former). L immediately walked over to sit in his favorite armchair, leaving his "little brothers" to fend for themselves.

Light noticed that L's hair was falling in front of his eyes, something he did when he didn't want to look at someone. Had they been listening to his and Matt's conversation? Was it Light that L was avoiding?

Disturbed, Light turned his gaze on L's successors.

A short, pale blonde boy with grey eyes who looked far too innocent to be wearing tight leather pants walked up to Matt and sat down in his lap. "Hey, Matty," the blonde said in a surprisingly girlish voice.

"Hey, Babe," Matt replied, and the two hugged. Light raised an eyebrow at this; Matt looked at least eighteen, where as the blonde probably hadn't even hit puberty yet.

A taller, lithe boy with a slight tan and pale blue eyes shuffled over to join Light on the couch. The boy was wearing loose pajamas and socks that matched his curly mop of white hair. The boy sat uncomfortably close to Light, pulled one leg up to his chest, twirled a colorless lock of hair around a finger, and glared in Matt's direction.

"Why do you two have to snog every five minutes?" he demanded in a deep, gruff voice. Matt and the blonde turned to glare at him, making the white haired boy blush and mutter a quick apology.

"You two must be Near—" Light pointed at the blonde, then the albino. "—and Mello. Am I right?"

The white haired boy he identified as Mello looked shocked for a second before his face went blank. "Actually, the other way around," he said with a suspicious lack of emotion.

"Like hell am I going to be mistaken for that whiney little bitch," the blonde—Mello—declared, still hanging off of Matt's shoulders like a leathery necklace. Near's lip twitched in amusement at that, but he quickly beat down a smile.

"Language, Mel-chan," he chided.

"Fuck off," Mello countered.

"Guys," Matt interrupted, motioning towards Light. "This is Light Yagami, L's new lover and the reason we're here, so if you'd be so kind as to approve of him already so we can go the fuck home, that would be really nice."

"Do you have a motorcycle?" Mello demanded.

"Uh… no," Light replied warily.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Ever held a gun?"

"A water gun when I was eight. Does that count?"

"No." Mello tugged on his bangs once before tangling up his fingers in the chain around his neck. "Hmm… let me see… Are your balls bigger than L's?"

Matt snorted and subsided into a coughing fit, sending a grin to the strangely silent L.

"Trick question," Near declared happily. "He has no balls."

Light's face turned a pleasant strawberry red. "That's a lose-lose situation right there, so I'm not going to answer."

"Yeah, I'm not liking him too much so far," Mello told Matt with a pout.

"My turn," Near said, smirking. "Can you debate—intelligently—on the applications of algorithms in a negative infinity equation?"

Light hesitated. "Algorithms are finite, right?"

"Well, he's passed my test," Near said with a shrug.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," Light muttered. He stood and approached L, who was still sitting. "Ryuzaki, I have something important I need to tell you. Can we…?" L awkwardly jumped from the chair, and Light trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise.

L had always been the same height as him whenever the detective was slouching, so Light had assumed that L was at least six feet tall. The man in front of him now, however, was standing straight, and Light was still a good three inches taller. The fake L looked up, and Light found himself gazing into devious green eyes.

"Heya, Righto-kun," the man—no, boy—said with a slight British accent.

Light gulped, reached up, and dug his fingers into the boy's scalp; he was surprised when the black mop of hair came off in his hand, revealing a bright red bed head.

"Can I have my goggles back now?" the real Matt demanded.

Just like that, the scene began changing drastically right before Light's eyes. Wigs were thrown to the floor, facades were shaken off, and compliments were directed at each others' acting abilities. Light watched, utterly confused, as "Matt" pulled his shirt off over his head, the red wig and goggles tugged with it, to reveal a half naked L with make up skillfully applied under his eyes.

Next, "Mello" struggled with his leather pants and somehow managed to strip down to a pair of white boxers. "I'm half your size, and I can't feel my legs," the boy said, wrapping a finger around one of his white curls. "How on Earth do you manage to get into those things?"

"A really small package," Real Matt whispered as he and Real L exchanged shirts.

"A magician never reveals his secrets," declared Real Mello. He ripped off his pajamas and threw them at Real Near, instantly proving Matt wrong. L rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Mello, I really wish you'd wear underwear," he grumbled.

"It's hard enough getting my huge dick of hugeness into these pants without boxers taking up even more of my precious room," Real Mello said, snatching said scraps of leather out of Real Near's hands.

Light waited patiently until everyone had their own clothes on and got comfortable. Real Mello was munching on a chocolate bar while watching Real Matt cream the computer-controlled race cars on the TV. Real L was curled up in his arm chair with a piece of cake as Real Near played with robot action figures on the floor.

Light sighed and approached L. Ignoring his lover's protests, he ripped the plate of cake from L's hands, tossed it carelessly onto the coffee table, and climbed into the detective's lap.

"I love you, even if you're an asshole," Light muttered.

"And not the good kind!" Mello declared. He and Matt burst into giggles.

"I love you too, Light," L whispered back, determined not to lose the romantic mood.

Light smiled into L's shoulder. "If you ever pull a stunt like this again, you'll wish Kira will get you before I do."

"But if Light-kun is Kira…?"

"Shut up, L."

L sent him a shy smile before looking away nervously. "So, Light-kun, now that you know pretty much everything about me short of my full name, what are you going to do?"

Light frowned. "You mean… all that stuff about you being a germaphobe and eating sweets was true?"

"Of course," L said, gnawing on a thumbnail. "Why would I ever lie to Light-kun?"

"You can't possibly have nightmares every single time you fall asleep," Light said in horror, his eyes widening.

L nodded regretfully. "Except… recently I've noticed my dreams are much more pleasant with a human heartbeat nearby." L pressed his ear to Light's chest and hummed contentedly.

"Ah, get a room," Mello snapped with a mouth full of chocolate.

"I think it's romantic," Matt muttered.

"You would, you sap."

"I'm only that way because you like getting swept off your feet," Matt countered with a cheeky grin. He was hit over the head with a boot for his trouble.

Near stood and addressed Light, ignoring the fact that he and L were in the middle of a very hardcore cuddling session. "As you may have guessed," the boy said formally, "I am Near, the youngest of L's successors. The whole point of this visit was to inform you that if you want L, you have to take the entire crazy package—that's us," he said, motioning towards himself, Mello, and Matt. "If you don't like one of us, you don't like any of us. It's a sort of pact we made a long time ago." Near smiled and held his hand out to Light. "You seem to love our 'big brother' dearly, so I approve, for now. I think I speak for us all when I say that L's happiness is directly connected to the condition of your knee caps."

"We're part Italian," L stage whispered.

Light laughed uneasily and shook Near's hand. "Thank you. I assure you, L's happiness also influences my own. You have nothing to worry about."

"What a touching sentiment," Mello commented.

"I prefer Nintendo," Matt agreed.

"Let's leave so they can have sex," Near said in French and headed for the door.

"What?" Light asked, thankfully not fluent in said language.

Mello and Matt, the Sega console and a bottle of chocolate syrup (stolen from L's mini-fridge) in tow, chased after Near, snickering.

"What the hell?" Light demanded once they were alone.

L shrugged. "I don't speak French," he lied. "Besides, I prefer a different language of love."

Light gasped and clung to L's chest as the detective stood and headed for their bedroom. "H-Hey! L, put me down, put me down!"

"Not a chance, Love."

~*(S)*~

Honestly, now. How many of you figured it out before Light did?

PS: Tell me what parts of my story you thought needed work or didn't flow well so I can focus on my weak areas. I'd really appreciate it.