This one has sorta somewhat of a plot! :0 And... parodying the tennis episode, because it makes everything better for some reason.

This was going to be, in a word, humiliating.

He was working on a high-profile case for God's sake, the last thing he needed was any distractions in his schedule. But out of nowhere, everyone had suddenly insisted that he was too stressed out recently – okay, first of all, absolutely anyone could have the sudden compulsion to punch a laptop – and needed someone to help 'calm him down'.

And so, Light had unceremoniously discovered that he'd been signed up for a... cuddle therapy appointment. Yes, that apparently existed. You learn something new every day, but usually it didn't have to come at the expense of your utter misfortune.

As he drove up to the location of said appointment, which was a fancy-ass apartment in the centre of the city, Light felt nerves twist up his stomach. This really was going to be extremely awkward. Refusing after it had already been paid for, by his superior no less, would look very rude. At least it was only going to be forty-five minutes.

Of course. Manners – his Achilles heel.

Soon, Light arrived outside and got out of the car, going up to press the buzzer. After going in, he started searching for the door number. It was right up at the top, so he took the lift.

Once inside, he inspected his reflection for a moment, suddenly worrying over his appearance.

Light wasn't exactly sure what you were meant to wear for this kind of thing – sure, pyjamas would obviously be the most comfortable, but he couldn't feasibly go out in public wearing them. And this was hardly a formal appointment, so turning up in a suit was right out. He'd just thrown on a casual outfit, but had actually fussed for quite a while over his appearance, more than usual.

It wasn't like he was turning up to a date or something, seriously... God, would the therapist try and get him to talk about his feelings or whatever it was cuddle therapists did? He'd done a little preliminary research and found that was mostly what they did. Well, they'd be disappointed to find that he, in fact, did not have any. Light figured his blood had more or less replaced itself with liquid caffeine a long time ago. You could perform open-heart surgery on him and all you'd find would be a shitty IOU.

Annoyed with his hair all of a sudden, Light spent the elevator ride trying to fix it, becoming increasingly unhappy with each consecutive attempt before it reached the top floor and he glanced over at the opened door like a deer caught in the headlights, realising how silly he'd just been being. Straightening himself out and smoothing out his clothes, he took a deep breath and walked out, spotting the door across the hall.

Stopping outside it, he was about to reach out and knock, but the door swung open before he could do so. Light jumped as he saw who was standing there, and instantly double-took, checking the card to make sure he'd got the right number. And well, lo and behold…

Slowly, resignedly, Light looked back up at the specimen from which his eyes had so quickly recalled in horror. A hunched, spindly man pale as a ghost with a disorderly mess of black hair who wouldn't look out of place trying to eat small children in Pan's Labyrinth. Was a cuddle therapist supposed to stare at you like you'd just made eye contact in a public bathroom? The strange appearance of this man was enough to surprise Light for long enough that it took a little while to actually register his surprise at it being a man at all; he'd mostly seen pictures of dumpy middle-aged women when he'd done his research.

Well, there were admittedly worse professional contexts to meet this man in: this wasn't a prostate exam. Then again, that would arguably require less physical contact…

Glass half full, Light! Glass half full! Be… optimistic about this. Light attempted to console himself. You've been trying to do that recently. Er… at least… he's not old.

The man grinned, pressing a long finger against his mouth. "Hello, Light-kun," he greeted, extending out a hand. Well, he did seem foreign at least, which could explain this sort of introduction… Light reluctantly shook it, putting on a polite smile, and was infinitely glad that to find it wasn't sweaty. "You may call me Ryuga. Or Hideki, perhaps, if you are feeling especially intimate."

It was impossible not to physically recoil after hearing that. "Uh, sure… Ryuga-san."

"You may come in." 'Ryuga' (had to be a fake work name) turned and led Light back into the apartment. The first thing that struck him was how many pillows were scattered everywhere - which was kind of to be expected, but there were so many it really seemed like overkill. The air smelled faintly sweet, and he noticed a half-drunk cup of tea on the table beside a near-empty sugar pot. However, he was snapped out of his observation by the other's voice.

"Now, where would Light-kun like to cuddle?"

What... what the hell was that look all of a sudden? Ryuga was staring, but it could hardly just be called that. Those mirror-like black eyes were hard, fixed completely on his own. There was nothing else it could be seen as... other than a direct challenge. But why a challenge? Confused and conflicted, Light felt his chest tighten as the other issued this glare, clenching a fist slightly at his side and narrowing his own eyes in return. It wasn't like it could be explained, but... it had set off his natural competitivity, and the last thing he was about to do in a humiliating situation like this was lose in some stupid game.

Light searched those eyes, trying to find a hint of what this could be about. There was something about the other's air that seemed almost amused. The hint of a smirk at the edge of his lips as he pressed his thumb to them.

Perhaps... perhaps Ryuga could tell that he was secretly somewhat nervous. That he was hardly interested in lying down with some stranger - no, that he was scared! That must have been what Ryuga was thinking!

Well, Light growled inwardly, if that's the case, then I'll show him, alright. I'll prove him wrong. I'll win this little game, Ryuga.

Where would Light-kun like to cuddle? This decision had to be made carefully. If he said the couch… would he look like he was backing out, afraid of intimacy? But if he said the bed, maybe he would seem too eager…

"I know what Light-kun is thinking," Ryuga said, shunting Light out of his thoughts. "He would like the bed, because of the swiss roll-shaped pillow."

Shit! This guy was sharp. He couldn't let anything slip through now. "Yes, you're correct," Light begrudgingly admitted. "Impressive, Ryuga."

Ryuga blinked. "I am a professional."

Light went over and sat down on the bed, and Ryuga soon joined him, bringing over a fluffy blanket… before proceeding to perch like a hawk on the edge of it.

"Light-kun, please get comfortable." Thinking back to earlier imagined contexts, that was just about the last thing Light wanted to hear this guy say. Realising he was lying flat on his front, he rolled over very quickly, willing away the sudden heat from his face.

Ryuga was looming over him like a gargoyle, all sharp angles and hunched posture. Would he be as cold as stone too? Just about the least comfortable person to attempt to... cuddle with.

"Now, please tell me:" he asked in disturbing monotone, "Would you like to be the big spoon or the little spoon?"

Shit. If he went for big spoon, Light would be admitting he liked this, despite the relative control it would afford him. But if he went for little spoon, he would also be admitting to being comfortable enough to be around Ryuga, and put him in the position of control as well… There was seemingly no way to win.

Ryuga's dark eyes were scanning him, undoubtedly searching for hints of weakness. Hints that he was, in fact, a little spoon.

In one swift motion, Light moved forward and grabbed Ryuga, pulling him into an embrace from the front and causing him to topple down onto his back.

Light hid a victorious smirk at the look of shock on the other's face. My plan is perfect, Ryuga. Like this, we're completely even. Now… we will both cuddle each other. He who attacks first is the winner.

"Ah. Exactly what I was expecting. Light-kun prefers the honeymoon position." Ryuga's surprise quickly faded and he tapped at his mouth contemplatively, eyes gleaming.

"Yeah right," Light scoffed at him.

But that challenging look was back, more piercing than ever. "My cuddling level is without peer," Ryuga insisted. "In fact, I am the best cuddler in the world. Light-kun, you cannot beat me." Ryuga pulled the blanket he'd brought over them, tucking it carefully underneath. "Light-kun likes blankets tucked in like this, to keep in the heat, and becomes exceptionally grumpy when his feet are not covered. Furthermore, he is trying to cover up the fact that he wants to be the little spoon."

...How did this guy know that? Had he gone out of his way to ask his dad about the blanket? There was seriously no other explanation. Light forced his face to remain cool at that senseless accusation. "No, Ryuga, that's not true. But if it's what you want to do, I won't say no."

Ryuga grinned and turned Light over, practically clinging to him with all his limbs, pressing his face into his shoulder. He smelled faintly sweet… or was that just the room, with all the sugar littered around? Like soap and strawberry-scented fabric softener. Light was ready to be dug into by pointy bones and cold skin, but found it was, somehow, completely the opposite. Despite his clingy position, Ryuga was actually very soft and warm. It was like he generated heat, forming a cushion with his entire body. Even his hair was soft, and –

This was no good! Light couldn't allow himself to lose to this asshole! He couldn't even pretend he was enjoying this! He squirmed awkwardly, but slowly stopped upon realising he could feel the other's heartbeat against his back.

Ryuga's low tone mumbled by his ear. "I hear that Light-kun has been very stressed at work recently, particularly due to his new boss." Wonderful. The others must've told this guy…

L was demanding, to put it lightly. At first, he had been fascinating to work with. Light would find himself challenged by him at every turn, and he'd get given even more work than the others. And at first, he didn't mind this at all. Light was grateful for the work and attention, feeling more valued and motivated to get all of it done. The two of them actually got on very well, and even went on to talk outside of the case. Until recently, that was.

Somehow, Light had deluded himself into thinking they had become friends.

...Only to be turned down spectacularly when he'd asked if they could meet in person. And since then, it had been pure torture to go on talking with him every day like nothing had happened.

It hurt more than it should have. He knew he should have been expecting that reaction. But the truth was, he'd stupidly let himself develop something of a crush… and those words had been like knives to the gut.

"He's an asshole, more or less," Light grumbled.

"Perhaps he's stressed too," Ryuga suggested. "Or maybe because his co-worker is so cu-."

Light cut in, too angry to have properly heard what the other was about to say. "No, he just enjoys being a dick and doesn't give a shit when he clearly hurts someone." He was too angry now to take their 'game' seriously anymore.

Ryuga tensed behind him and Light felt his frown. "Perhaps… try to consider things from his point of view. I'm sure he'll make it up to you…" Ryuga then squeezed him slightly and pressed his face deeper into his neck, hands finding Light's own and gently tracing over them. "Massage?"

Light blinked. "Uh… Do what you want, I guess."

And Ryuga's skilled fingers started massaging his palms, making his nerves tingle and heat up like a fire. After that, they moved on to his knuckles and joints, and he sighed. They were worn out from lots of typing and it felt good to have them relaxed. Then Ryuga did something, there was a crack, and Light bit back a cry.

"Don't worry, it'll stop hurting soon. You'll get used to it."

"Mmm…"

This appointment had been promised as purely platonic; yes, it was in the paperwork, and this really felt like it was crossing the line. But Light was so relaxed that he found he somehow failed to care.

When it was over, Ryuga took his hands and threaded their fingers together with a slight squeeze, and Light honestly couldn't believe he was going to say this, but… "Can you… just keep doing that? Just… hold. Stay…"

Ryuga nodded.

"Thank you…"

"Light-kun… can you remember this for me? Sometimes it can seem as if somebody doesn't care… but they really do. However, some people are unable to speak the truth even if they wish they could."

"…Then they shouldn't say anything. They shouldn't give others false hope."

"Light-kun has never told a lie? Light-kun has never given somebody false hope?"

"…Alright. I'm a hypocrite. Fine. But so is that idiot."

"If you have something in common, then you are likely to work well together."

Light nearly laughed. "Yes, except normally that thing in common is a hobby or positive quality."

"Being a hypocrite is a full-time commitment; so much so that you may be considered a celibate. There may well be an invisible wedding band."

"Well, that would explain why he doesn't have any friends," Light grumbled sourly.

"Light-kun does have friends?"

"…Full-time commitment, like you said."

"Indeed. Combined with the time undoubtedly spent fussing over his hair, it's a wonder that his schedule can handle anything else at all."

Light jerked his elbow back and felt himself hit a bony ribcage, followed by a surprised little noise.

"Ow. That hurt."

Light looked up at the clock. Still twenty more minutes to go… He could do this. He could survive. How had it been so long already? Well, perhaps that should be considered a mercy.

"As much as you may want so, we are not here to fight." Ryuga squeezed him tightly. "Especially because I know that Light-kun is painfully ticklish on his sides and therefore can quickly make this very uncomfortable for him."

"Wait, what…?"

"How do I know this…? I am a professional. Want another massage? Or does Light-kun want to talk about his relationship troubles again?"

Light's face burned despite himself. "I-it wasn't –"

"Oh?"

"We… we're not… I-it's not…"

"Light-kun has chosen to talk about his relationship troubles again."

"No! Just give me another massage or something!"

"Well, alright. Try to relax again."

Ryuga's hands on him again; this time at his shoulders. Every touch sent arrows of warmth shooting through Light's body, and he was soon quick to clamp a hand over his mouth in fear of anything unnecessary slipping out, exhaling steadily through his nose instead. Somewhere along the line, he let his eyes shut, relaxing completely, completely unaware of the purrs those fingers were coaxing out of him. Warm touches over his lower back, melting away the tension from the past few days; fingers over his neck, smoothing and pressing down with gentle yet firm and skilled motions.

"Ah…"

It came out at last and it was enough to make his eyes snap open, face burning again in embarrassment. But that wasn't the only problem in this situation – those arrows were trailing much lower than they needed to be right now, culminating in something much more worrying.

Oh, Hell no.

"Are you okay?" Ryuga's deep tone in his ear and Light froze, awkwardly attempting to cross his legs, but it just made it worse.

Feeling the other shift, Light looked up as Ryuga proceeded to lean down over him, staring with vague amusement, finger pressed to his mouth. "Light-kun will definitely be unable to relax like this. Shall I help?"

It was like time had stopped as Light attempted to scramble for a coherent thought, let alone a response to that offer. Spluttering inelegantly, he looked around for something, anything to focus on that wasn't Ryuga's smirk, and in his desperation spotted the clock.

"It's… it's the end of the appointment."

"Ah." Ryuga smiled with false innocence and drew away. "So it is."

Light was in absolutely no position to contemplate what had just happened. It was better to just not think about it. So much for 'platonic'… It had tried its best. He sighed and got himself up, attempting to will the heat away from his face. Luckily, the awkwardness was gradually fading now, and he headed over to the door, trying to forget what had just happened.

Ryuga followed him there. "Did Light-kun find his experience relaxing?"

"You could... say that. You'd probably do better as a massage therapist, if you want my opinion."

"Oh, no. You see, Light-kun, I am a very cuddly person."

"…You could certainly say that, Ryuga. Well, I'll be going now."

Ryuga was grinning as he stepped out of the door and watched Light as he made his way to the elevator, and just before the doors could close, he heard something from down the hall directed towards him.

"My guess is that the chance of Yagami-kun coming back for another appointment is… Eighty-seven percent."

Yagami-kun's deduction has a sixty percent chance of being true…

This idea has a less than one percent chance of holding any merit, but…

There is a thirty percent chance, Yagami-kun, that I will think on it further, and a remaining seventy percent chance that what you have just suggested is complete bullshit. But it's nice to have that chance there regardless.

Percent… percent… percent…

Light swore under his breath as the doors shut and everything came together.

Yagami-kun… We cannot meet together in person. That is the problem.

In person being the key term here – what was the problem with being a different person?

L grinned triumphantly to himself as he shut the door. Matsuda had accepted the incentive to sign Light up for an appointment at a moment's notice, not suspecting anything for a second, and all in all...

Everything had gone… just as planned.

…L's smile fell as he furrowed his brow in sudden confusion. For some reason, he felt like that phrase didn't suit him much.