Summary: AU - Light is a businessman, L is a masseuse, LxLight to follow! Written for the kink meme!

...

Multiple men in expensive, black, high-street suits quickly exited a top floor meeting room after the end of the weekly assessment meeting. It was well pass 9 pm, but these men were used to extra hours and the stress - these were the Central Managers of Yohashi Coorporation, a relatively new, but extremely fast growing company in Japan.

Recently the Corporation's stock value had sky rocketed, bringing hefty dividends for stockholders and co-owners, and many sweet promotions for the managers, who were now hurrying to the downtown restaurants and bars, where they were going to socialize, drink, build their network connections with other members of the business class and effectively enjoy their Friday night.

The last two to exit the shiny new meeting room were the senior CEO of the Yohashi Corporation and Yagami Light – the brilliant, youngest and most promising of the managerial team. Barely 23, Yagami was the brightest and one of the most ruthless of his cohorts. In the industry there were legends about how he handled some decisive situations that lead to the amazing success of Yohashi over the past 4 years that he was employed.

Some people outright gave Yagami Light the credit for said success.

The Senior CEO patted Yagami on his slender shoulder in a familiar and fond manner before he headed back to his office, where he intended to spend the night. Yagami bowed deeply before he spun around on his heels and headed towards the elevator with wide, decisive steps.

His back as straight as a string, and his shoulders tense, his gaze was fixed somewhere before him, and his thoughts were somewhere else entirely as he passed by his colleague Namikawa, who was leaning on a glass wall, waiting for him.

The longhaired young manager sighed and shook his head to himself. He was used to Light being like that, and it didn't even surprise him that the caramel haired manager didn't see him.

"Light-kun!" Namikawa called and the tall brunette figure stoped abruptly.

"Namikawa-san!" Light beamed back at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there."

"It's alright," Namikawa smiled in return and walked over to Light, squeezing his shoulder and wrapping an arm around Light's slender and lightly muscular back as they continued towards the elevator together. "So… how does it feel to have your face on The Economist?"

Light looked a bit surprised at the remark but then he collected himself and gave a small chuckle.

"I haven't seen the issue yet," he said, tossing his brunette locks out of his eyes.

Namikawa suddenly produced the magazine seemingly from nowhere and handed it to Light.

"Oh!" Light let out a surprised laugh.

"You must be the youngest man to grace the cover of this magazine in… maybe forever!" Namikawa said, not bothering to hide his awe. "Look at that: 'Japan's secret weapon' – that refers to you, Yagami!"

Light forced a laugh while supressing a sigh. He was used to compliments. Tons of them. Flattery had been sticking to him like flies on honey all his life, and he had always known that it was a matter of time until it became international.

Staring at his own almond eyes staring determinedly at the camera for the Economist, he felt… empty. As they walked in a sea of dark suits, he knew he stood out in his stripped light grey one and his light brown hair, but he felt nothing…

Curious eyes turned to him from everywhere, while Namikawa was dragging him through the streets of the entertainment district. Different people greeted him and spoke to him. Remarks such as "Congratulations on your success with the Hoshi crisis"; "We wouldn't have overtaken Moku-Yama if it wasn't for what you did back there…" and "If you fail at business, which we all know you won't, you can always become a model…" were heard from everywhere.

Light was becoming quiet a celebrity in his sector.

Finally Light was sitting at an overprized sushi bar, eating sashimi from a naked girl's body and having a few drinks with his colleagues Mikami, Nakimawa and the babbly Matsuda (who was the Senior CEO's son, and a good person, but a terrible manager and businessman).

Light was largely quiet as his closest co-workers discussed all sorts of matters, some related to business, others completely irrelevant to Light's mind. The brunette found such events of socializations a necessary waste of time. He only did it to strengthen his work bonds. However, his mind was entirely on the business at hand and he was planning his next steps in overcoming the legal issues of overtaking the Sakura pharmaceutical company when Matsuda startled him out of his trance.

"So, Light-kun looks pretty handsome on the cover of The Economist, but in real life he looks kind of tired," Matsuda said, snapping his fingers in front of Light's face to grab his attention.

Light was slightly startled but concentrated immediately with a pang of annoyance, which he hid well behind an embarrassed smile.

"Yagami-kun will always be the sexiest businessman even if he was hit by a truck," Mikami commented. He gave Light the look, which told the brunette that he still wanted to sleep with him, but Light ignored it as always. It was never going to happen.

"But it's true that he's been looking a bit stressed lately," Mikami added. "Are you overworking yourself, Light?"

"I am alright, guys," Light said, running a hand through his caramel locks.

"That's not true," Matsuda interrupted. "The Senior CEO of our company told me that you haven't taken a day off for the last 16 months and that you regularly sleep in the office and rarely go back home! You are working too hard, Light!"

"I wonder how did Matsuda learn that from the Senior CEO," Mikami cracked a familiar joke and everyone exploded into laughter except for Matsuda himself, who was mumbling his "Oh come on you guys…" lines again.

Even Light was chuckling.

"Light, I have been so worried about you that I took the liberty to book an appointment for you for a full body massage," Matsuda began but was cut out by Light sighing loudly and waving his hand at him.

"Ohhhh, come on, Matsuda! Are you turning into my mother or something," Light tried to dismiss him.

"Wait, listen to this first!" Matsuda insisted. He made a dramatic pause in which everyone but Light leaned forward in expectation. "He is the best masseuse in Europe. He has a reputation of being able to relax even the toughest, most tense men in the world. And he's English!"

"Oh come on…"

"Light, he has given a massage to the Queen of England and all the Princess! He is Sarkozy's favourite; he is the personal masseuse of Michelle Obama! His hands are magic, they say! Legend says that he even prevented several political scandals by giving a massage to political leaders before their meeting, thus easing their bodies and minds and making them see things more rationally…"

The last phrase caught Light's attention. Seeing things even more rationally… Was that even possible with such a rational person, such as him? It could definitely be useful. But what if gullible Matsuda was just fooled by some urban legend? Light had to research this before he went...

…

And research Light did, and went he also did… Because he managed to find out that apparently all Matsuda had said about this mysterious, and apparently quite eccentric masseuse, who went by the name L, was true. Also Matsuda was paying for it, and Light couldn't quite miss such an opportunity (apparently this L made more money than Light did per year! And his fee was not something that Light could easily toss.)

L was visiting Japan for a short period of time to work with anonymous clients, but had a few spare slots, one of which was taken by Light.

On the Wednesday night that Light had his appointment, Light got a text message to inform him of the address that he was supposed to go to. The brunette businessman found it quite irritating that he didn't know where he'd be heading until 30 minutes before the beginning of the procedure.

As he jumped into his Sedan in the underground parking slot where he had it parked and he put in the postcode into his GPS, Light wondered absentmindedly if L had pulled that one on the Queen of England…

Light drove fast on the highway, overtaking every car on his way, as having cars driving in front of him made him feel very irritated. He arrived 10 minutes early and walked out of his car, taking in the fresh midnight air. It was quite late, but that suited him just fine, since he had a lot of work to finish before going.

The building facing him looked like some sort of Victorian English townhouse and Light wondered how did such a building get to the centre of Tokyo. Aligned with other old houses, all built in the Edo style that was typical for old Tokyo, it looked like it must have been there for ages. Well, with the money this L was earning, surely he could afford to rent out a room in the Imperial palace, so Light wasn't that surprised by the odd location…

Light accented the gloomy stairs to the door and rang the bell, which sounded like a bird's tweet. Rolling his eyes, Light waited.

The door didn't open. Light waited and after a few seconds rang the door again. Again nobody showed up to meet him. In a few minutes time Light was banging the door, checking his smartphone for the location he was supposed to reach, and after he had verified that he was at the right spot, called Matsuda 2 times and almost knocked down the door, Light turned around and began walking down to his car, angry as hell.

Suddenly the door opened behind him.

Light looked over his shoulder and saw an elder English butler stand at the door.

"Good evening, Mr. Yagami. Please, welcome," the servant greeted him, pulling the door widely opened.

Light's eyes narrowed and he checked his cell phone for the time.

00:00 exactly.

So, the bastards wouldn't let him in a minute before his appointment. How pretentions, he thought.

Light considered telling the man to go fuck himself, and fuck L as well, but then he reconsidered and taking a deep breath turned around to smile politely.

"Thank you," he said and went up the stairs.

…

"Your client is in the waiting room, sir," Watari addressed the man who sat crouching on a massive Victorian couch and sipped English tea with tons of sugar in it.

Midnight eyes looked up from the rim of the porcelain cup between unkempt black trestles.

"What is his type," L asked in a bored tone.

He was still considering whether or not he wanted to take on that client. L didn't do boring jobs.

"He almost busted the front door open when I made him wait 6 minutes outside, but as soon as I opened the door he gave me a polite "Thank you" and quietly sat down in the waiting room," Watari answered.

A small smirk tugged at the masseuse's lips. The suppressed fire inside ice type – L's personal favourite.

"Is he handsome," L more guessed, rather then asked.

"He is extremely handsome," Watari answered.

"Very well, get him in," L dismissed him and his partner left the room.

L smiled widely as he stirred his tea with a lollipop. Ah how he loved this type, and how he knew exactly what they need in order to loosen up…