A/N: Random update on this one. But MM wanted to post on AO3 so I figured it was only fair to update it here as well. :-)

Remember that these do not come in chronological order. Just because Junior is older in this one does not mean we dont have plenty more of him as a tot.

Do enjoy!

Chapter 4: The Skirt

"Dad."

"Hmmm?"

"Can I talk to you about something? Now?"

L looks up from his laptop, which is balanced precariously on the tops of his knees. Junior is standing before him, in the doorway of the study, looking so very much like Light that it hits L like a spark of electricity. His arms are folded across his chest, his hips are leaning against the doorframe in that particular Light-ish way, and even his eyes are narrowed in a way that is far too serious for a sixteen-year-old.

L nods, minimizes several browser windows, and sets his laptop on his desk.

He has a good idea what this will be about, and it will not be pretty.

(No matter that the whole thing will concern how very pretty Light looked, a few nights ago.)

Junior steps into the study and plants himself into one of the squashy armchairs. He crosses his legs at the knee, tosses his bangs out of his eyes, and opens his mouth.

"I'm bringing this up with you now, while Father is at work, because you're my dad, and I love you," he begins. God, does he ever have Light's inflections when he's pissed about something. Are vocal intonations genetic? L wonders.

"What a lovely sentiment, Dearest Heart." He begins nibbling at his thumbnail. "But please, let us not forget that love is not necessarily the best motivator of one's actions."

"Yes, yes, I know." Junior flicks his hand in the air as if swatting away an invisible bee. L has trouble keeping his smile hidden. He is so charmed by his offspring. "But in this case, it most certainly is."

L nods gravely, playing along with the seriousness of Junior's tone. He knows that his son has a fuse just a short as his husband, and the both of them are equally annoyed at not being taken seriously.

"I understand. Please, continue."

He slides his coffee mug across the desk toward Junior, but he waves that away as well.

Junior sighs with a frustrated, short huff. "I don't really know how to say this, Dad. You're…you're my Dad! And you…" Junior sighs again.

"Whatever it is, Dearest Heart, perhaps it is best to simply speak the words outright." L says. He admires his son's bravery. Knowing what it is that Junior is trying to say, L appreciates the difficulty with which Junior must have arrived at the decision to get involved. It will be terribly awkward for him to bring up, but he will do it anyway, out of love and loyalty to Light.

It will be terribly awkward for L to hear, but he will do it out of love and loyalty to Junior. And to Light, by extension.

"There are no words for this," Junior mutters, looking down at his own legs. "God, I can't believe I'm doing this." Then he looks up at L again, all of a sudden speaking clearly and forcefully. "I can't believe you are doing this!"

"And what is it that I am supposed to have done?" L asks. He takes his coffee mug back to his side of the desk and drinks deeply of it. This calls for much, much coffee.

"You're…you're…." Junior's eyes are huge and black. They look at L with an imploring sort of anger.

L blinks at his son. If Junior is to say this, he will say it. L will not speak the words for him.

Junior grabs two fistfuls of his hair in each of his hands, pulling at it in irritation. "You know what I'm talking about! I know you do!"

"I'm afraid you shall have to clarify for me," L says mildly. "I am not as young as I once was, and old men's brains being what they are…"

Junior shakes his head at L, eyes still wide, though this time with incredulity. "Are you serious right now? You're apparently not too old to…to….argh!"

L simply stares candidly back at him, not saying a word. But Junior is far too much like his father, and L knows that feigned innocence is the quickest way to get a reaction. Even if that reaction oftentimes consists of alarmingly sour language and shattering china.

"You're having an affair!"

Somehow, when spoken aloud, the accusation is somewhat hurtful. Although L understands why Junior has come to this conclusion, and although he is proud of his deeply instilled sense of justice, it still hurts. Some part of him wonders how Junior could ever think him capable of such a thing.

Then again, both L and Light had never been in the habit of overlooking possibilities because the chances were slim. Quite possibly, the reason Junior is bringing this up at all is to be set straight. Perhaps the possibility of L being a cheater in Junior's mind is only one percent. Or a half percent, at that.

Still maintaining his candid expression, he is able to inject something of puzzlement and surprise into the curve of his eyebrows. "And what, pray tell, has brought you to such a conclusion?"

"I found evidence! Hard evidence! …well…more like, frilly, short, black lace evidence, but evidence all the same!" Junior exclaims, gesticulating wildly at L.

L wonders where on earth Junior found the skirt. He and Light are not in the habit of leaving articles of a sensitive nature simply lying about the mansion. They both learned that lesson soon after Junior learned to crawl, and he happened upon a cock ring and decided it was a teething ring. Light was horrified, and had scrubbed Junior's mouth five times with a toothbrush covered in Listerine. L had been mildly amused (it wasn't as if Junior were going to catch something, after all, and he certainly wouldn't ever remember the incident, and it wasn't as if the thing hadn't been properly cleaned immediately after use, anyway).

From then on, all such objects were kept well-hidden and well-guarded: in a safe, actually.

"And Dad, honestly, you leave a thing like that just lying around?" Junior shouts. "I'm sorry, but for God's sake! In Father's house, no less?"

L sighs. "Junior, if I may - "

"No. Dad, seriously. Seriously, I don't want to hear excuses. I just want to you stop this whole thing. How could you do this to Father? He loves you! Don't you care about him anymore?"

"Of course I do, Dearest Heart, and - "

"Then how could you? Don't you care about me?"

"Of course I care about you, Junior," L says. Has he been in some way deficient, to have Junior question his love so thoroughly? No….in truth, it is simply that Junior is his Father's son, and he can't let anything go of something that concerns him without getting to the bottom of it or doing something about it. L and Light have both been excellent parents. "I am not now, or ever have been unfaithful to your father."

"Then why on earth did I find a black skirt in the kitchen this morning?!" Junior demands.

Oh. …that's right. L is tempted to laugh outright. He and Light really did lose their heads, didn't they?

L can't help it. He cracks. The smile that appears is fleeting, and he quickly conceals it. But it is too late.

Junior shoots up from the chair, slams a fist down on the desktop. "You have the nerve to smile about this? Has your whole life been nothing but a sick joke?" His voice is much higher than usual, outraged and incredulous. His black eyes are suddenly much brighter, wetter.

L holds up his hands, attempting to pacify Junior with the gesture. "Dearest Heart, you misunderstand my reasoning for—"

"There is no reason, Dad! There is not any reason that anything about this should cause any reaction out of you besides guilt and shame!"

He looks to L like a vengeful angel, sent down from the heavens to smite him, hell-bent on vengeance. His chocolate-cake colored hair glows in the summer lighting spilling in through the French windows, like a halo of dark silk. His eyes flash so viciously they appear to be made of onyx gemstones. It is glorious.

"Keep your head, Dearest Heart. Do not act so rashly."

Junior is breathing heavily, his jaw clenched. L gestures toward the chair again, but Junior remains standing. Before he is able to open his mouth again, L's cell phone chimes. It is face up on the desk, next to the keyboard. The screen is large, and it is impossible to not see whom it is from.

Light.

I can't wait to be home with you, Candyman.

That is the name Light has always called L after sex. It is apparent that last night's festivities are still fresh in his mind as well. L had been waiting for Light to have a moment at work to text him. Consequently, it meant that Light's message screen was up.

Junior's eyes had settled on the screen the same time as L's. The pair of them met gazes again, and Junior looked more wrecked than any child of sixteen should ever have to look.

L sighs. There is no way to explain this in any way that Light will approve of.

"Junior…I understand that this will be difficult for you to accept. But it is a matter in which you will simply have to trust me."

Junior stares hard at L. "You always taught me to look to the facts first. And the facts I see are a skirt and you giving me no explanation for its presence. I mean…I thought surely you'd be able to say that you were seeing some client who forgot her bag or…or…something! You needed a sample of a suspect's clothes? Aunt Sayu came over and had to change in a hurry for some reason? Something!"

"Junior…in this instance, I must insist that you let the matter go," says L, knowing his words will be futile.

"Dad, I can't. How am I supposed to even talk to Father, knowing about this whole thing? You expect me to just pretend everything's fine? Just tell me you'll stop, and then I'll let it go!"

"Dearest Heart, there is nothing to stop." Especially not this particular game of theirs. Light's legs are far too long and shapely to be kept continually covered.

Junior sighs deeply, deflating like a punctured balloon. "Dad…I love you, but if you aren't going to stop this, I have no choice but to tell Father."

He watches L for a few beats, during which L says nothing. It will do no good, at this juncture. Then Junior leaves. He looks more depressed than he did when his favorite conditioner was discontinued.

L picks up his cell and types a quick text to Light. Better to have him prepared than completely blindsided.

Nor I, apple tart. But we have a situation concerning the Dearest Heart. He is well, do not fret – just too principled for his own good. I shall explain when you return.

When Light comes home, it is far closer to midnight than he would like. There was a violent breakout from a max security unit in the federal prison exactly eight minutes before he was due to clock out and head home. As the director of the NPA, this was not something he could simply dish out to his subordinates. With a rather loud curse that faded into a resigned sigh, he had text L:

Another rotten excuse for a human being has impinged upon my ability to come home. Wait up for me.

He knew that L would be up anyway, given the nature of his ridiculous sleeping habits. But the idea of L waiting up especially for him was gratifying in its own way. L didn't disappoint, promising that he would be waiting as loyally as a dog waiting for his master to return home. That, at least, got a laugh out of Light.

You are a dog, he had text back, and hadn't been able to check his phone again.

Now, he is so glad that he is finally home, he begins to loosen his tie as soon and he walks through the door. He knows that L wont be able to hear him if he shouts, so he simply makes his way up to L's office, where he usually closes himself in while working on cases. Considering he had recently taken up a rather intriguing one, Light is sure to find him there.

And sure enough, there L is – sitting at his desk with his laptop in front of him and a cup of espresso at his right hand.

"Hey," Light says with a smile. He leans against the doorframe.

L looks up immediately, eyes gleaming with something that, even after all these years, Light is unable to name. "Light-kun," he says.

"The one and only," jokes Light. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

L pushes the laptop and espresso cup to one side of the desk, chuckling darkly. He pats the top of the desk with the flat of his hand, then points at it. "Right here, Mr. Yagami-Lawliet, if you please."

Light laughs, shaking his head. He sets his briefcase and coat on the nearest armchair before crossing the room to L.

"Does it ever bother you that I didn't drop the hyphenation?" Light asks, taking a seat on L's desk.

"Mmm, no, not at all." L hooks his finger into the waistband of Light's slacks and rolls his chair closer. "It simply serves as a reminder that I do not detract from your life, only add to it."

Light's fingers are already in L's hair, threading lovingly, almost possessively through the shining strands. Light had always loved L's hair, always loved the wild feel of it against his skin.

He's waited for this all day. Light doesn't enjoy his work, even if he does get satisfaction out of it. Today had been worse than hell, and all he wants now is to let himself go. L is the only one who has ever been able to handle him in all his raw honesty.

Already L has him in a state and all he's done is pulled Light down by the tie for a kiss.

"Where's Junior?" Light forces himself to ask this, before he loses his head completely. L kisses him again before answering.

"He is asleep, Light-kun." The kisses trail from Light's chin to the side of his neck and back up to his earlobe. Light gasps when he feels the sharp graze of canines.

Light laughs, though most of it is breathy and sounds pathetically like a helpless whimper. His fingers are clenching L's shirt collar and he can't even remember when they had descended from his hair.

"He's more and more like me every day," Light says.

"I know. It is terrifying."

"Are you truly horrified, L?"

"I have nightmares."

Light doesn't resist L pushing his knees apart. He welcomes it, locks his thighs around L's waist. "And do they haunt you?"

"Every waking minute."

"Fuck, L." Light slides his hands down L's torso and begins hastily undoing the button on his jeans.

L's hands cup the backs of Light's knees and pull. Suddenly Light's perspective shifts: he is staring at the ceiling and is lying flat on his back on the desk.

He makes an "mmph" sort of sound, and L's body covers his, trapping Light's hands between their torsos.

"You realize that you texted me innuendo earlier today, do you not, Light?" L is murmuring into his ear.

"I seem to recall doing something like that, yeah," Light agrees. Undoing a jeans button should not be this difficult he thinks, fumbling. His work badge is digging into his clavicle at the moment but he is too preoccupied to pull it off.

"And do you recall that less than twenty-four hours ago," L continues, mouthing at his neck. "You were bent over the kitchen sink?"

Light nods breathlessly at the memory. How L can drive him from zero to sixty in one second flat is beyond him. "I recall. It was you that had me there. …yes, finally." He has at last had success with the button.

L's voice is a low, intent purr. "And I shall have you again, Light-kun, mark my words."

Then L's hands are making quick work of his shirt buttons, and Light is thinking about where the closest stash of lube is in the house.

Just as Light works his hand between the unzipped folds of L's jeans, L's tongue dancing a delicious pattern across his pulse point, an irritated "Ah-hem!" makes them both freeze in place.

Light tilts his head back and sees the upside down figure of Junior cross-armed in the doorway.

"Father," he says, rather sternly. Or perhaps that was indignance. Light can't really form coherent thoughts right now. "I need to talk to you."

Light lets out an embarrassingly strong breath. He's struggling not to pant. "Right now?"

The problem with Junior being so like Light is that they are so similar they sometimes rubbed along as well as sandpaper against beach sand. Really, Light wonders how he possibly did not see the outburst coming.

"Yes, right now! God, what are you, thirteen-years-old?" Junior says all this with a Kira face, and Light wonders if L can see it, too. "Can't you control yourselves for one goddamn minute?"

"Language," says L, moodily.

"I was talking to Father," says Junior, full of a never heretofore heard callous disrespect, and, for the first time in his life, Light almost wants to backhand him. Almost, but no. Because he can see that Junior is genuinely upset about something. "I think he'll want to hear what I have to say before this little tête-à-têtegoes any further."

Light sighs deeply. Moments like these made him nostalgic for the days when Junior was pre-speech. He cranes his neck up and kisses L on the mouth.

"I'll see you in our room," he says quietly, and L backs off of him, zipping up his jeans.

"Awww, you guys, come on," Junior whines. Light sees him cover his eyes with one hand. "None of my friends parents are this…this…"

"Middle-aged, yet still devilishly good-looking and attracted to one another?" L supplies mildly. Light grins, buttoning his shirt.

Junior's eyes are still hidden behind his hand. "Ugh, are you both decent yet?"

"We're decent, Junior," Light tells him, taking pity on the poor boy. He shudders to think of what it would have been like to walk in on his mother and father at Junior's age. Thank God they were both rather conservative.

L and himself are not conservative. They are…well, there isn't really a good word for it, but conservative certainly isn't it.

Junior pulls his hand down from his eyes, impatient. L takes his time shuffling out of the room. He stops when he reaches Junior, tilting his head at him.

"Before I go…Junior, really, are you quite sure that - "

"Yes, Dad. You aren't talking me out of this." Junior says all this very firmly, without looking in L's direction.

"Well, then…good luck and good night," L says, like he is signing off of some black and white, 1950s news program. He closes the study doors behind him.

Light decides that whatever this talk is that Junior is insisting on, it would be better if it were carried out while they were sitting. He takes L's desk chair. Junior fairly throws himself into the armchair in the corner. He ends up sprawled all across it, taking up as much space as a sixteen-year-old boy can take up, which is a lot, given that Junior has inherited L's height, as well as his long arms and legs.

Straightening his hair as best he can, Light gives Junior a single nod. "Alright, son. What is it?"

Light has braced himself for this. He has anticipated more shouting, more disrespect. He has resigned himself to the likelihood that he and Junior will have a pretty heated argument if he isn't able to keep a cool, level head. And he does not want to battle it out with his child. He wants L's mouth on his earlobe again. On his neck. Everywhere.

Despite all indication to the contrary, Junior does not burst out in rage. Instead, he bursts out in tears.

Light hesitates for the second time that night, stunned. Junior is more on the effeminate side, it is true. He has always been a sensitive boy. But he is not prone to crying. Not, at least, since he was about four or five years old. Now, though, he's curling up like a newborn, hugging himself with his arms and pulling his knees up to his chest in a manner so reminiscent of L, Light is almost knocked breathless at how much Junior had been like L as a toddler, and the realization that it has faded so much. He looks small and helpless, and so like that toddler of fourteen years ago that Light's fatherly instincts kick into overdrive.

And suddenly, Light can feel the alarm bells sounding in his mind. L had told him earlier in a text that Junior was okay… but Junior clearly was anything but okay. Light has half a mind to tear into L about his falsities, but the other half of him was already calculating how long it would take to reach L and drag him back into this godforsaken room, whether Junior liked it or not.

"Junior…?" Light asks. L is so much better at dealing with tears than Light is. Light sucks at tears. "Hey…what's the matter? What's going on?"

Junior doesn't answer. If anything, he sobs harder.

Light is utterly at a loss. He figures, at the very least, that it would be worse to leave Junior right now to go and get L. So he gets up from the desk and sits on the edge of Junior's chair, putting one arm around him.

"Son…really, whatever it is, you can tell me. Even if it's about Nathaniel. I can't promise I won't want to rip his head off if he's hurt you somehow, but…" Light says, trying for levity. (But really, he will make that little shit pay if he's done something to Light's boy.)

Junior wipes his eyes, sniffling. "Sargie, Father, his name is Sargie. And no, it isn't about him. He's been great."

"Then what's going on?" Light asks. "Something at school?"

Junior shakes his head. "Nothing at school. School's normal. It's here."

Light blinks. "Something here? At home?"

Junior nods emphatically. "Right here is the problem."

Light's chest squeezes uncomfortably. Junior is unhappy at home? What does he need that he and L are not providing for him? Light has always thought that if anything could be wrong in Junior's life, it would be outside the walls of this mansion, not within them.

"What could be wrong here, son?" Light asks. "You're not happy here?"

Junior sighs deeply. He grabs a nearby box of Kleenex and blows his nose as delicately as he can. "Father…it's not like that. I love you and Dad. God, Dad, though…I can't believe him!"

And Junior bursts into a fresh wave of crying.

Light is beyond bewildered at this point, and wonders if he is perhaps having a very peculiar dream. Light has always believed L to be Junior's favorite parent. And now this?

"Hey….Junior, hey…it's okay. Whatever it is, we'll work it out." Light tells him, rubbing Junior's back. He is trying to sound comforting and hopes that he is not coming off condescending instead. Jesus, he is not good with tears. "This is something about L? Did you two have a disagreement or something?"

Junior snorts derisively. "A disagreement? Ha! You could say that!"

"Son, it's normal to—"

"Nothing about this is normal!" And Junior suddenly flings a pleated black skirt onto the floor, its lace trim embarrassingly visible against the soft cream-colored carpet. Before Light's brain is able to untangle itself from the massive blow of humiliation, Junior is again catching him off guard, his words confusing and bold. "Daddy's having an affair! I found this in the kitchen this morning!"

Slowly, Light puts the pieces together. "Junior," he says, and gives a soft laugh.

"It's not funny!" Junior screams. "What is wrong with you!?"

Light shakes his head. He knows this is probably the worst time to ask such a question, and yet it is nagging. "What makes you so sure this evidence is the result of your dad's guilty doings and not mine?"

Junior wipes his eyes with the palms of his hands, sniffling. The look he gives Light is something of a cross between embarrassment and apology. "Well, Father, I mean... come on." He gestures at Light, who realizes his legs are crossed in quite the lady-like fashion. He quickly unfolds them, but Junior has already moved on. "We all know if anyone takes a fancy to the female form around here, it's Dad."

Light sighs. He says wryly, "He certainly crows about old Hollywood starlets enough, doesn't he?"

Junior nods sadly. "See? And I always thought he was just…you know…messing with you. And I mean…it's not a crime to be like…bisexual, or whatever." Junior shudders here, as if contemplating L's sexuality is just too much for him right now. Or ever. "But this?" Junior flings one hand viciously at the skirt, lying not-so-innocently on the floor. "Father! The evidence is right in front of you! And you're sitting there like nothing's the matter!"

Light hopes his cheeks don't burn red. Junior would be smart enough to put two and two together.

"Son, what you have to understand is that things like this are…private. And no, your dad's not having an affair."

"Father, how can you say that?" Junior demands. "Dad did the exact same thing earlier! I bring this whole sordid mess up to him and he acts like I'm the one who's being unreasonable!"

Light can easily see how L would be caught between a rock and hard place. And rather than reveal their…activities…the night before, he would try to reassure Junior without really giving him any explanation. What explanation is there to give? Dearest Heart, you see, sometimes, in an effort to appeal to both sides of my tastes, your Father wears skirts and stockings and the occasional black high heel. It is perfectly normal. He surprised me in the kitchen last night, and in my haste to fuck him within an inch of his life, we forgot to remove all evidence of the encounter, as we normally would. I apologize in advance for the damage this knowledge may do to your psyche.

"Junior…I understand that you're…concerned," Light tries. "And believe me, I do appreciate your show of loyalty on my behalf. You're the best son a father could ask for." Light squeezes Junior's shoulder. "But I must insist on you dropping the entire thing. I'm fine…L's fine. Nothing's the matter."

"Father! If anyone on earth would disapprove of…of…of swinging…I would expect it to be you! And you're sitting here telling me that it's fine that Dad went off with somebody else?! I don't care if it was for even one night! It's not right, Father! He can't do this to you!" Junior is absolutely beside himself.

"Let's look at the logistics of this situation," says Light. Logic always soothes Light when he's distressed, after all. It is not a far-fetched idea that perhaps it would bring Junior peace of mind as well. "You found a skirt that appears to incriminate your Father, not your boyfriend. It's a piece of evidence that incriminates my husband, not someone I could possible ever deal with sanely."

"Exactly!" Junior wails. "So how—"

"Am I calmly able to sit here addressing this very upsetting topic with you?" Light supplies. "It follows logically that you do not understand mine and your Dad's private life, as well you shouldn't."

Looking completely dumbfounded—heartbroken—wildly confused, Junior just stares, his mouth agape, his enormous dark eyes exact replica's of L's, staring back at him in utter, stupefied betrayal.

Patiently, Light continues. "Am I crying?"

Junior shakes his head, looking more mortified by the moment. Which is not what Light was going for, but he's satisfied that the tears are subsiding, at the very least.

"Who's crying?" Light prompts.

"I am." Junior's voice quavers, unsteady like a pond disturbed by the ruthless toss of a hard, unforgiving rock.

Light nods, and brings his original logos back full circle. "And considering this discussion is about your Dad and not your boyfriend, you should have no reason to feel so upset, or so betrayed. After all, I would be the one who was being betrayed, am I am not crying."

Seeming to have almost calmed down somewhat, Junior erupts again at that.

"I HAVE a reason! He IS my dad, and so are you, and what kid wants their parents to break up? What kid wants their family destroyed over some harlot?" Junior stands up from his chair, looking down at Light. "You should know that, Father!"

Light sighs. Junior is as stubborn as...well. As stubborn as his fathers.

"Yes, Junior, I see the point you're making, and perhaps I was unclear just now. I was only trying to say that the kind of betrayal most prominent here would be felt by me, not you, in this situation. And I'm fine. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this, and so you need to let it go."

Actually, 'reasonable' wasn't really the word for it. 'Hot at the time and afterwards embarrassing in the extreme' was more like it.

"God, you're as bad as he is." Junior says viciously. "Are you doing the same thing with some guy out there, and that's why you're so okay with this whole thing?"

At this, Light's hold on his calm disintegrates. The tranquility he had been clinging to turns quickly into a cold anger.

"Junior Winston Yagami Lawliet, you will apologize this instant for that or so help me God, you won't be seeing Nathaniel or anyone else for MONTHS, do you understand me?"

"Apologize?" Junior seethes. "Apologize for freaking the fuck out that after sixteen years being preached at about monogamy, faithfulness, respect, and dignity by you people, I find out that neither of you practices any of that? Then why bother spoon-feeding me bullshit beliefs? Hypocrites, the both of you! I can't believe you'd risk our family, your marriage, for something so disgusting!"

"You are completely out of line! We are your parents!"

"So what? I didn't ask to be born! I'm here because of you!" Junior's outrage can barely conceal the underlying motive for his insolence: betrayal and fear. "If you weren't planning on your kid ever figuring shit out or challenging your vile disloyalty to each other, maybe you shouldn't have used your own goddamned DNA to make me! I'm a consequence of your own actions!"

As angry as Light is at this moment, his heart swells to bursting with fatherly pride. This protégé is most certainly of his DNA. Such passion, such deeply-rooted beliefs, such integrity. His child will not bend his own moral compass even for him. He couldn't be prouder if Junior had single-handedly rid the world of all criminals.

Light's pride allows him to moderate his voice. And besides, one of them has to get hold of themselves. And it should be him. He's the adult here, and the one not rattled with teenage angst and pubescent outrage.

"Yes, you are, Junior. We wanted you with all of our hearts, and we still do. And we wanted you because we loved each other that much. And we still do."

Over the years, Light has grown more able to verbalize such sentimental truths. If he is still not quite comfortable with it, he is at least able to do so, and willingly. L has taught him the necessity of emotional honesty.

"Yeah, you just didn't love each other enough to be faithful to each other. I'm sorry, Father, but my birth story is not all that inspiring when viewed in the light of reality," Junior says bitterly.

"Junior, you don't understand, and you need to let it go," Light tells him firmly.

Junior shakes his head, casting his eyes to the floor. He sighs harshly. "Let it go. Right. Don't you realize that ever since I was little, I've idolized you two? You're my father. He's my dad. Every little boy's hero is his dad, and I was lucky enough to have two."

Light swallows, trying to get control of the sudden tightness in his chest. His eyes sting.

"And now this? And I hear that you both want me to just let it go? No. No. I can't and I won't."

Junior stares Light down like a matador in the ring, red flag in hand and absolute confidence in his eyes. He talks the way that L and Light have raised him to talk: with conviction and with courage.

"Things will never be the same, Father. Things will never be the same. I always pictured you and Dad at my wedding, whenever that will be, and you both would be the spitting image of what a marriage should be. What love should be, what it can be. You guys fought a war against each other, with literally the fate of the world hanging in the balance, and your love for each other got you through it. How many people can say that? And now all of that is gone. Somewhere along the way, you lost what you had, and that's heartbreaking. Or you never really had it, and that's just even more - "

"I was wearing the skirt, Junior!" Light suddenly shouts.

Junior shuts up.

"I was wearing the skirt, alright?" Light says again, demanding and obstinate.

"What do you mean you were…wearing the…?" Junior asks, voice trailing off into nothing as the gears behind his eyes turn.

Light huffs. Junior has left him with no choice. The cat's out of the bag, things will be hideously awkward between them for weeks, if not months, but hopefully somewhere along the way they'll be able to forget about this whole sordid mess. God, does L ever owe him. "Look, your Dad and I were in the kitchen, we forgot the skirt, you found it, you accused L of having an affair, he didn't want to explain what really happened so that he could spare your psyche and spare me the humiliation, but what's done is done, so there. It was me. Satisfied?"

Junior stares, completely stunned, for Light doesn't know how many minutes. He can see his child processing this information; can see the variety of emotions spinning in his eyes, like the flick of a fortune wheel. Finally, he focuses back onto Light.

"Daddy's having an affair with your female counterpart?" He finally asks, flatly at first, but with hope rising in each word.

"If that's what you want to call it, Junior, yes. That female counterpart being nothing more than me in female clothing, and the affair nothing but a twisted game your Dad likes to play with me. Between the two of us and only the two of us. You know he has peculiar tastes, but that doesn't mean he wants or even needs to stray in order to find satisfaction. That's just one part of what makes a marriage fulfilling, Junior."

Junior blinks, clearly processing this.

"...are you, like, genderfluid?" he asks. There is nothing but plain curiosity in his voice. "Sometimes Sargie sounds like HIS dad is."

Light shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "I'm sure there isn't a word yet for Mihael Kheel's identity. But no, son. I'm male, in every sense, and L knows that."

Junior nods thoughtfully. Light is proud of his maturity, but slightly nervous at how COMFORTABLE Junior is with idea of sex play. He has the terrifying thought that Junior is experienced in such things, and then his brain comes to a screeching halt. It is a self-protective measure, lest Light lose what is left of his sanity.

"...Father, next time?" Junior asks.

"...yeah?" Asks Light.

"You guys have GOT to keep this stuff from me. Seriously. Get like...a toy box."

Junior immediately looks appalled at himself, eyes popping and jaw falling. He shudders violently. "That didn't come out how I meant it to. Forget I said that. I'm just-"

Light holds up a hand. "My brain has been bleached, and I have no idea what you're referring to."

Junior shudders again. "Thanks. ...I should apologize to Dad, huh?"

Light nods. "I think that's a good idea. I'm sure he's still awake."

Slowly, Junior stands. He still looks too relieved and too stunned to be properly embarrassed about this whole escapade. He turns, takes three steps toward the door, then backtracks. He touches Light on the shoulder, and Light is able to look up. He couldn't possibly become more humiliated than he already feels, after all.

"I'm sorry, Father," he says, softly. "I got so upset because I do believe so strongly in yours and Dad's love, and in the integrity of your characters."

"That's very mature of you, son." Light crosses an arm over his chest to reach up and pat Junior's hand. When he leaves, the door closed snuggly behind him, Light collapses on the desk, cursing himself for having the audacity to sneak up on L in the kitchen of all places in an ensemble like that.

"Lesson learned, Yagami," he mutters to himself.

L is sitting in the exact middle of he and Light's bed. It is appropriately ridiculous, larger than even the largest king-sized bed. L's taste in material goods is extravagant, or so Light has told him. He insisted on a four-poster (which Light did not veto, because in his heart of hearts, he relishes L tying him up) and silk sheets. There is a laptop in front of him, and the scattered remains of several empty boxes of Hello Panda cookies.

He hears Junior approach before he sees him. L's hearing is actually rather astounding in it's scope. It is a fact that he attempts to keep hidden, so that his sense of sound is underestimated. Easier to use something to your advantage when the other party does not expect you to.

"…Dad?" Junior calls hesitantly, poking his head around the doorframe.

"Come in, Dearest Heart," L says to him. He can already hear the apology in Junior's voice.

(Which leaves no doubt as to whether or not Light has chosen to explain the root of the entire misunderstanding. L hopes that he will still be amenable to wearing the skirt.)

Junior strides in, making a strong effort to appear confident. His eyes, however, and the way they do not meet L's, give him away.

"Dad, I….Father explained everything and I wanted to say I'm sorry," Junior says very formally. L is about to answer that of course all is forgiven but Junior has more, apparently, to say. "I'm so sorry, Dad! God, I was such an ass to you. You'd have every right to disown me."

His eyes well with tears.

"Dearest Heart," says L, and pats the spot next to him. Junior immediately obeys. L waits until Junior is settled in and leans his head against his shoulder to speak again. L wraps his arm around him. "I married the prime suspect of the biggest, most disastrous case the world has ever seen. I've forgiven him and I trust him completely. Now, what makes you think that I would want to disown you for standing up for that very relationship?"

"I don't know," he says, helplessly. "I just feel like a terrible son. Of course you and Father would never betray our family. I knew that… and yet… and I…"

"Could not let it go because you had cold, hard evidence to the contrary." L gives Junior a brief squeeze. "You cannot help it, Dearest Heart. You are a Lawliet. It is in your blood."

L feels Junior smile, the curve of his cheek pressing into the top of his shirtsleeve.

"Do have some Hello Panda cookies," he continues, indicating a package that has only been half demolished. "It will help you to feel better."

Junior picks up the package and nibbles on a few of the cookies. L remembers the first time he ever tried one, before all of his baby teeth had even come in. L had crushed it into tiny bits, and Junior had been kicking his legs in excitement over the taste.

"Thanks, Dad," Junior says. "I think I'm going to bed now. I couldn't sleep earlier."

He doesn't need to clarify why.

L nods. "Goodnight, Dearest Heart. We shall see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Dad. Tell Father I said goodnight too."

And with that, Junior leaves, steps quite a bit lighter than they were when he came in. L hears his bedroom door close with a soft click.

Light enters not long after. His expression is one of rueful discomfiture.

L chuckles at it. "Are you going to survive, Light-kun?"

"No, L," Light says flatly, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm going to throw up and then I'm going to pass out, and after that, I won't be able look Junior in the eye for weeks."

"There, there, Light-kun," L says. "It could have been worse."

Light snorts. "How is that?"

"Well…" murmurs L. "the Dearest Heart could have witnessed the proceedings as they happened."

"Oh dear God," Light mutters. "Are you trying to put me off sex completely?" He exchanges his slacks for a pair of pajama bottoms, brushes his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, and then fairly collapses into bed, falling on top of the blankets next to L.

"Light-kun, we both know that nothing could put you off sex completely whilst you are in my presence," L says smugly. He shuts the laptop and pushes it aside, lying down next to Light and pulling him into his arms.

Light shifts around, making himself comfortable. "Watch yourself, Lawliet. There is such a thing as overconfidence, you know."

"Why Miss Yagami," L replies. "That isn't what you said last night. I recall there being much moaning and begging and -"

"Goodnight, L." Light cuts him off.

"-and a good deal of panting and praise of my stamina -"

"Goodnight, L."

"- and more whimpers and cries for more than you quite knew what to do with -"

"L, stop, or the skirt burns."

L stops.

-Bratchild3 & MgcMind :-)