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Yoichi Isagi used to be so powerful, someone who was making his way up the ranks of Japan’s elite assassin group, Blue Lock. He was well respected, and he had a group of peers that would never hesitate to assist him on missions and the like.
And then Yoichi Isagi fell in love, and oh, what a fool he was to fall in love with a tourist. His pretty blonde hair with pretty blue-dyed tips, his eyes a shade lighter than Yoichi’s own. Falling in love with a foreigner was unexpected, and what happened next was even more so. He’d been so deluded in his infatuation for this strange, European man that it had completely blindsided him when the man, Kaiser, had admitted he was a spy, and was only in Japan to kill Yoichi.
Yoichi Isagi used to be incredibly powerful, but there he was, in an expensive penthouse in Germany, washing dishes while waiting for his husband to get home. No access to the internet, not allowed to have anything that might let him communicate with his friends back at home. Such silly things weren’t allowed. But it was alright, because Yoichi had Michael Kaiser.
Michael had started coming home much later from work, his usual charm and suaveness replaced with exhaustion and frustration. Michael had thanked Yoichi for making and packing him a lunch that day, then left to go fall asleep on their bed.
The next day, it happened again, then again, and Yoichi expected it to happen again today. He’d finished up dinner, something light for Michael to stomach, and went to go place the food on his nightstand. Sometimes dinner in bed wasn’t too bad.
Yoichi turned on the television, switching to some program in English he had little interest in while he started scrolling on his phone. He slowly began to eat food from his own plate, smiling softly as he heard the front door open and some boots being kicked off. There was a loud clattering noise, with Michael swearing profusely as he cursed out the coat rack they had, which he’d presumably knocked over in his haste to get to bed. Yoichi fondly rolled his eyes at his blonde’s antics, smoothly slipping his phone under the mattress. Michael grumbled as he walked, Yoichi snickering a bit as his husband opened the door.
Michael was stunned at the sight before him. “You made dinner?”
“I always do,” Yoichi beamed, patting the bed next to him. “You should eat a bit, too, Mihya.”
Yoichi simply smiled as Michael groaned. He put his own plate on his nightstand just right before Michael flopped down onto the bed, nuzzling Yoichi’s lap and sighing in contentment. Yoichi gently threaded his fingers through his husband’s hair, twirling his fingers as he got to the dyed ends.
“Hm,” Yoichi hummed. “You need a haircut.”
“Ugh,” Kaiser scoffed, closing his eyes. “I don’t have time for that, work’s been too busy, you know that…”
“I could cut it right now,” Yoichi offered, a grin on his lips as his husband jolted where he was lying down.
“No, nope, no way,” Michael quickly protested, rolling onto his back to look up at Yoichi, head still resting on his lover’s lap. “Unfortunately, we both remember what happened last time you cut my hair. Alexis’s hard work went to waste.”
“I think you looked cute with short hair,” Yoichi kissed Michael’s forehead. “Your natural hair color is…”
Michael grinned, raising an eyebrow almost tauntingly. “Beautiful? Enticing?”
Yoichi flicked the blonde’s forehead, rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”
“Hmm, I don’t think I will…” Michael hummed, sitting up.
He leaned a bit forward, one hand on Yoichi’s thigh and another cupping his cheek. He leaned forward slightly, a delighted glint in his eyes as Yoichi closed the distance between him, brushing their lips against each other in the softest kiss.
“Come now, Yoichi…” Michael murmured against his husband’s lips. “You can do a bit better than that~”
“Hm, I guess…” Yoichi smiled, before abruptly pulling back. “But you should really eat the dinner I made. I don’t want it to get cold, and we both know you can’t function on an empty stomach.”
“Tch,” Michael grumbled, scowling a bit. “I can function just fine without food. You, however...”
“If you eat your food right now,” Yoichi not-so-subtly looked his husband over. “We could have some fun tonight. That is, if you’re not too tired….”
Yoichi had never seen someone down a plate of food that fast before.
“I’ll put the dishes awa—” Yoichi tried, feeling his husband creep up behind him. “Mihya…”
Michael pounced.
—
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye…” Yoichi sighed to himself, waking up at noon to an empty, cold bed. “Or wash the dishes.”
Yoichi sighed, going about his daily, or, well, afternoon-ly routine. He made some complicated foods, only so he would have a mess to clean up instead of sitting and watching the TV all day. He made a bento for his husband for the following day, before going out to go to the local gym for a bit. He sat in the park, scrolling through all of his social media and messages before leaving the park to go back home and start dinner.
It rained heavily outside, the windows fogging up with condensation. The grey sky only served to make Yoichi more gloomy, his eyes downcast and a bit dull. It was at times like these that he missed Japan, days like these that made him paranoid and shaky, wondering if Michael was getting injured or hooking up with someone who was not his husband.
Yoichi watches the clock tick down, he hears the chime from it as an hour passes.
And another hour passes.
And another, and another, another, another, another.
Dinner’s cold, the room’s cold, everything’s too cold. It’s past midnight, and the apartment is dark. Only the light from the kitchen is turned on— the same kitchen where Yoichi stares at a plate of cold food, across the table from another plate of the same temperature. He feels lonely.
It’s a feeling he’s come to hate.
His husband comes home a bit later than usual that day, stress and panic written on every inch of his body. Yoichi’s eyes soften a bit, and he stands up to take Michael’s coat off while the blonde shucks off his shoes.
“Hey…” Yoichi spoke, voice a bit quiet, cautious.
“Not today,” Michael grunts, shaking off his husband’s touch. “I have to go to bed and wake up early.”
“Michael,” Yoichi tries, but he goes ignored, the blonde storming over to their bedroom without so much as another word.
Dinner’s cold, the room’s cold, and Yoichi feels so, so cold.
It’s like ice water as his legs move without thinking, chasing after Michael and cornering him at the door of their bedroom. “Michael.”
“Michael!” He goes ignored as Michael goes into their bedroom. Yoichi hates being ignored. “For fucks sake, Michael— tell me what’s wrong, damnit…”
“There’s a spy,” Michael abruptly blurted out, pacing around the room. “There’s a spy and I have no idea who it is.”
Yoichi was not expecting that to be what Michael’s first words to him were.
“What….?” Yoichi asked, in disbelief.
“There’s a spy in the Bastards, and I have no clue who it is. They’ve been selling info to Blue Lock,” Michael threw his slacks to the side, starting unbuttoning his shirt aggressively. “They interrogated me, and then interrogated Ness. We’re working after hours to figure this shit out. They won’t let me sleep in the office, so I have to come home.”
“You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing,” Yoichi offered a smile. “Coming home, that is.”
Michael didn’t reply, tossing his shirt to the side and bending down to take off his socks. Yoichi’s smile dropped at his husband’s lack of response.
“Do you… not want to come home, Michael?” Yoichi cautiously asked. “Is that why you’ve been coming home later and later?”
“…No,” Michael shook his head. “I do want to come home. But not before I finish this.”
“Do they know if there’s a spy?” Yoichi asked.
Michael pulled on his nightshirt, absentmindedly fixing it. “Mm, no. Only a few people know about the possibility…”
“So it could just be that the people back in Blue Lock got smarter?” Yoichi squinted in disbelief. “They’re not dumb, Michael. I would know.”
“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you,” Michael snarled, turning his back to Yoichi.
Yoichi’s brows furrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re from Japan!” Michael gestured wildly in some direction, trying to motion toward where the island country was, thousands of kilometers away “Of course you would side with them, instead of your husband!”
“Are you kidding me?” Yoichi’s face twisted into an expression of disbelief. He reached out to try and touch Michael’s shoulder to turn him around. “Michael, I’m trying to offer solutions. There may not even be a spy, you said that yourself— and, besides, that’s a big thing to accuse your coworkers of!”
“Just shut the hell up,” Michael hissed, shoving Yoichi’s arm off of him. “If you’re so sure about thinking your friends back in Japan are smart enough to figure out sensitive information about us— our locations of our hidden bases and data on our best undercover men— instead of trusting me that they can’t, then maybe you shouldn’t have moved here.”
“I moved here to marry you, Michael!” Yoichi shouted, running a hand through his hair, a habit he’d picked up from his husband. “…But with each day it seems you spend less and less time with me and more time out apparently hunting a spy that might not even exist. You’re putting our marriage on the line. And for what, Michael?”
“My job, our source of income,” Michael clenches his fists, exhaling slowly. “My country, Yoichi.“
“…And if you had to choose between me or your country? What would you choose?” Yoichi challenged, eyes narrowing. “Reporting to your boss or coming home to your husband?”
Michael’s silence was loud enough. Yoichi gave him a minute to respond, then two, then three before he finally broke.
“Michael, I just want you to come home. I can’t bear the thought our marriage is going to be the same thing every day— you coming home late and spending no time with me at all,” Yoichi’s voice cracked a bit, visibly distressed at his husband’s quietude. “What happened to us, Michael? I thought you loved me, because I love you. Do you? Do you even love me?“
Michael looked away, eyes downcast. He didn’t speak.
“This… this spy thing, this not wanting to come home, whether real or not— it’s hurting us, and I don’t know if this can last,” Yoichi whispered, reaching out to gently touch Michael’s arm. “I don’t think that our marriage can survive this for much longer, Michael. Please, just… come home… Even if it’s a lie, pretend you’re just being paranoid, for a few days. Please stay at home for a little bit. Spend time with me, Michael, even if you don’t love me…”
“I do love you!” Michael whipped around with a dark glare in his eyes. His eyes softened, and he reached out to cup Yoichi’s cheek.. “…I do love you, Yoichi…”
“More than anything?” Yoichi whispered, eyes softening.
Michael didn’t respond.
“…Michael…” Yoichi pulled away from his husband. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I get what you’re saying.”
“Yoichi, my love—”
“Not right now, Kaiser.”
Yoichi climbed into his side of the bed, not bothering to change. He slid his phone under his pillow, shutting his eyes.
A few minutes later, Yoichi felt a comforting warmth behind him. Michael wrapped an arm around Yoichi, pressing a soft kiss to Yoichi’s nape before burying his face in the crook of the shorter man’s neck. The blonde’s other arm slid under the pillow to support Yoichi’s neck more.
Yoichi felt his husband tense up behind him. Michael’s pulse sped up, and Yoichi sighed.
“No…” Michael whispered, pulling back and sitting up in their bed. He fumbled under Yoichi’s pillow, eyes widening when he saw what he’d felt. “Yoichi.”
“Yes, Michael?” Yoichi murmured, eyes slipping open with a resigned look on his face.
“What is this?” Michael sounded distressed.
“I’m pregnant, sorry I didn’t say so,” Yoichi snarked, rolling to the side to face his lover. “Can’t wait to have your baby.”
Michael waved the phone in Yoichi’s face, face full of disbelief and betrayal. “Don’t fucking joke right now, Yoichi!”
“That’s a phone,” Yoichi replied. “Duh.”
“You’re not supposed to have one,” Michael whispered, shaking his head. “That was part of the deal when I pulled you out of Blue… Lock…”
Yoichi shook his head, pulling the phone from Michael’s hand while the blonde’s brain processed everything.
“Aah,” Yoichi sat up, a smile on his face. “You weren’t… entirely wrong about the spy thing.”
Michael scooted backward, hand on the handle to the nightstand.
“Was my acting alright, Kaiser?” Yoichi mockingly asked, kicking his husband off the bed, and rolling off to pin him down. “Were you convinced?”
“Why…”
“We already have all of the information we need,” Yoichi cooed, astonished at how Kaiser didn’t even struggle. “I got sloppy, I guess.”
“You were still with Blue Lock, after all of the time we—!” Michael hissed in pain as Yoichi pressed a hand over his throat.
“Shh, Kaiser… I’m getting a call, dear,” Yoichi soothed, pressing his phone to his ear with his free hand. Huh. Kaiser still wasn’t struggling. “Yeah, Noa?”
“Wh— mmph…!” Kaiser started squirming, his eyes full of rage as he’d heard the name of his superior, Noel Noa.
“Yeah, he found out about the spy thing… Might wanna leave Bastards, now… Thanks, sir,” Yoichi hummed, smiling. “A flight home, right now? Alright, but…”
Yoichi looked down at his husband, who’d gone a bit still, trying to eavesdrop on his and Noa’s conversation. “Can I take my dear husband with me?”
Kaiser’s eyes widened.
“Alright, alright…” Yoichi grinned. “See you soon, Master. Just don’t kick down the door, please. It’s always really loud, and we don’t want the neighbors getting suspicious.”
As soon as the phone hung up, Kaiser flipped Yoichi over on his stomach, pinning him to the ground and reaching into his nightstand. Yoichi sighed, feeling cool metal on the back of his head.
“Are you gonna shoot?”
Kaiser didn’t answer.
Instead, the blonde turned Yoichi on his back, pistol aimed now at his forehead.
“Come on, Kaiser,” Yoichi coaxed, reaching up to press the gun firmly to his skull. “Won’t you pull the trigger?”
“Shut the hell up.” Kaiser’s eyes went cold, then sad, then blank once more. Yoichi smiled softly at the sight of Michael’s hands trembling, both firmly planted on the gun. He’d played Michael like a fiddle, but he really had gotten fond of the man.
“Hey…” Yoichi softly spoke, like a siren’s song.
Two, three hands held the pistol, guiding it until finally—
A bang.
“…Won’t you come home with me, Mihya?”