DGG: Happy belated New Year, everyone! I hope everything is going well for all of you so far! If not, I hope this next fluffy story helps make you feel better. Enjoy!

Yoko and Yusho Sakaki were both lying on their sides on the couch as they watched a movie together. Yusho lay behind his wife, his right arm draped over her stomach, his fingers idly playing with the fabric of her shirt from time to time, while his left arm was falling asleep due to Yoko using it as a pillow. But he didn't dare move. She was comfortable nestled up to him like this, and he was content as he drifted in and out of consciousness while taking in the sweet scent of her hair; the only thing bringing him back into reality was when his left arm throbbed. But it was worth it. He loved spending quiet moments like this with his wife.

It was nearing ten o' clock on this Saturday night when the couple heard the soft pitter-patter of feet rushing across the upstairs landing and a high-pitched squeak from someone gripping the fireman's pole a little too tightly as they slid down.

"Ow…" the young voice of their five-year-old son wafted into their ears once they heard his feet hit the floor.

"Ooh," Yoko winced with a hiss. "That sounded painful."

But the boy made no further indication that he was in any sort of distress. Instead they heard him run toward them. Within seconds, the young boy hopped onto the back of the couch, causing the two parents to crane their necks in order to see him grinning down at them.

"Hi! What are you doing?" Yuya bounced eagerly.

"I thought you fell asleep," spoke Yusho.

"Yeah. But I'm not sleepy now," he shook his head, causing his father to smile.

"First things first, Yuya. Are your hands okay?" asked his mother.

"Uh huh!" he nodded.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Mommy! They're good!"

"You shouldn't grip the pole so tightly, son," Yusho informed him.

"I don't wanna fall off!" Yuya told him.

"No. I suppose you don't. I don't want that either."

"So what are you guys doing?" Yuya asked again as he climbed up onto the back of the couch then slid down so that he was sitting on his father's side.

"We're watching a movie," Yusho answered.

"Can I watch, too?"

"I don't see why not," the father shrugged.

"Aw. It's a commercial," the boy frowned.

"Is it?" his mother asked facetiously. "Or is it a documentary on toothpaste?"

Yuya crinkled his nose.

"That's weird, Mom!"

"Not to toothpaste enthusiasts, I bet," Yusho shrugged.

"Dad!" Yuya whined as he lay down across his father, their faces mere inches apart.

"What?" Yusho chuckled.

"Is that a real thing?"

"I don't know. Probably. There are billions of people in the world. I'm sure some of them are quite enthusiastic about their toothpaste."

Yuya crinkled his nose again before he leaned over to look at his mom.

"Mama? Is he right?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "I'm sure there probably could be toothpaste enthusiasts out there."

"Probably mostly dentists," added Yusho, causing the woman to laugh.

"Well, I'm not a toothpaste enthusiast," declared the boy.

"I know, son," Yoko rolled her eyes.

"How do you know?" Yuya blinked in surprise.

"Uh, because you act like it's the end of the world when I tell you to go brush your teeth," she reached behind her and poked his side, causing him to jerk and scream out in laughter.

"They just get dirty again!" Yuya countered after his laughter subsided.

"Yuya," his father chuckled, "if you want to keep your teeth, you need to keep cleaning them. That's how they stay healthy."

"I don't like it," the boy crinkled his nose.

"I know, since I have to watch you just to make sure you do it," Yoko poked Yuya's side again, causing the boy to jerk violently once more.

"Mama, stop!" he pleaded through his laughter. "That's my tickle spot!"

"I know," she smirked as she sat up.

Yuya's crimson eyes widened as he watched his mother's hands descend on him like falcon talons. The boy kicked and squirmed as she grabbed onto his side and lightly pinched. Yuya squealed and wriggled so much that he ended up sinking behind his father a little. Yuya continued laughing, even after his mother stopped her onslaught and carefully lay back down on her side. There hadn't been too much space to begin with with both her and Yusho laying on the couch, but now that Yuya had wriggled his way back behind his father, there was even less space for her. She gave her husband a wary look.

"Mama, you're mean," Yuya giggled as he peered down at her.

She craned her head to look back at her son.

"You don't even know the half of it," she smirked.

"Mamas are s'pose to be nice," Yuya leaned over his father now.

"Why should I be nice? What have you ever done that should allow me to be nice, hm?" the woman inquired.

"I do lots of nice things!" the boy countered.

"No. Your dad does a lot of nice things," Yoko corrected him. "You just like to take credit for them."

"Hey!"

"Whoa! Hold on a second," Yusho piped up. "If doing nice things for you equates to you being nice to that person, then there is a whole backlog of nice that you owe me!"

"Excuse me?" she turned her head and glared at her husband. "I cook for you, I do your laundry, I gave birth to your son, and I let you live in my house and give me snuggles. How much nicer do you want me to be?"

Yusho opened his mouth as though he had some sort of rebuttal; however, he just burst into a fit of laughter instead.

"I…I don't know," he finally managed.

"I grace you with my presence every single day, and this is the thanks I get?" she stuck up her nose.

"I'm sorry," he continued to chuckle.

"Mom, why are you picking on Dad now?" Yuya frowned.

Yoko smiled.

"Because he just makes it so easy."

"Mama, be nice!"

The boy attempted to wriggle his way out from behind his father. In an attempt to pull himself up, he grabbed for the nearest available thing, which just so happened to be Yoko's side. The woman immediately jerked and let out a yelp, causing both Yuya and Yusho to jump in surprise.

"What was that?" asked Yuya.

"Nothing," Yoko rubbed her lips together and averted her eyes. "Nothing at all, son."

"Mama," a small grin began to show, "do you have a tickle spot, too?"

"Of course not! You just…surprised me, is all. Look. The movie's back on. Why aren't we watching it?"

Yuya looked to his father for some sort of confirmation, but the man just shook his head.

"I think you do, Mama!" Yuya grinned.

"Nope," Yoko denied. "No tickle spots for me."

"Yuya…I wouldn't if I were you," his father warned as the boy locked eyes with his mother.

"Why?" he asked, not breaking eye contact with the woman.

"Because I really enjoy having a son, and I absolutely cannot guarantee your safety if you tickle her."

"Mama wouldn't hurt me!" Yuya proclaimed.

"I really wouldn't take the chance, son," Yusho shook his head. "The first time I ever tickled her, I think she nearly broke one of my ribs. It was an unpleasant experience."

"I did not!" Yoko cried.

"You really did, dear. It wasn't pretty."

"You're over exaggerating," she rolled her eyes.

"Not by much…"

"Mommy, wouldn't do that," Yuya spoke as he slowly reached for her side again.

"Yuya Sakaki, don't you dare!" Yoko barked.

He gave her an ornery grin.

"If you touch me, I will ground you so fast, young man!"

Yuya reeled back at that threat, but his ornery smile quickly reappeared. Yoko's heart sank; apparently he had already made up his mind. In the blink of an eye, Yuya leaned over and began tickling his mother.

"No! No, no, no! Stop!" she wheezed as she squirmed. "Yusho! Yusho, stop him!"

"Yuya – ow! – Yuya, give your mom a break. She's – ow! – she's hurting me. Ow!" he winced again.

"No way, Dad. Mama doesn't give me any breaks!" Yuya grinned as he continued his onslaught.

"Yusho! Yusho, please! Do something!" she attempted to fend off the boy's hands.

"I'm trying," he grunted as he attempted to pull his left hand out from under Yoko. "Yuya, I think she's had enough."

"Never!" he continued to laugh.

"Please! Please!" she begged as she continued to squirm, only to accidentally wriggle her way off the couch, landing on the floor with a yelp.

"Yoko!" cried her husband.

"Mama!" Yuya gasped as he clambered out from behind his father in order to sit on the edge of the couch.

"Are you all right?" Yusho sat up.

"Yes," she groused as she pushed herself up.

"Mommy, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" Yuya's voice quivered.

She softened when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"No, son. I'm fine," she smiled as she placed a hand on his cheek.

"Are you sure? Do you need a doctor?"

"No, Yuya. I'm fine," she rested her forehead against his.

"I'm sorry," the boy sniffled.

"I forgive you. Don't worry."

"What? You still haven't forgiven me for tickling you! And that was years ago!" Yusho exclaimed.

Yusho immediately cowered upon receiving his wife's icy glare.

"Daddy, she forgives me because I'm cuter and littler," Yuya whimpered.

"See? He gets it," Yoko smiled as she nuzzled her nose with Yuya's.

"I see," Yusho smiled.

"I love you, Yuya. But if you ever tickle me again, you will never see the light of day ever again. You will be grounded until the day I die. Understand?"

"Y-yes, Mommy," he gulped.

"That's a good boy," Yoko pulled him down into her lap and hugged him, making him giggle.

"I love you, Mommy. I don't like hurting you."

"I know, baby. I love you, too," she gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead.

"Do you guys want to come back up here?" asked Yusho.

"No!" cried Yuya. "Mommy can't fall if she's already on the floor!"

"I suppose she can't," the duelist agreed with a smile, "but it sure is comfier up here."

"We'll be fine, Yusho," Yoko leaned her head back in order to view her husband. "We'll watch the movie from down here."

"Yeah," Yuya nuzzled against Yoko's chest.

"All right," Yusho stretched out. "If you say so."

Yoko chuckled as she squeezed Yuya again and rested her chin on top of his head. The movie was pretty much over by now, but that didn't matter much to the woman as she cuddled with her son on the floor. She loved him so much, and she watched him as he drifted off to sleep in her arms.