Work Text:
“Yoichi,” Kaiser says into his ear, sitting next to Yoichi.
He grumbles languidly, rolling over and shoving his face into Kaiser’s thigh. Still, he sleeps.
Kaiser rests his hand on Yoichi’s hip, telling him more seriously, “If you don’t wake up now, you’ll never play football again. And I’ll win.”
Just barely, Kaiser can see Isagi’s face distorted as he mumbles quietly into his pant leg, “What are you saying, Mihya?”
“That flight you booked. If you don’t get up, I’ll leave without you. We’re about to be late.”
Immediately, Isagi’s eyes widen and he’s pushing Kaiser off the bed to pull on his clothes. “Pants, pants, pants…!” he mumbles, flying around the room.
Kaiser watches for a moment, then sighs as he walks toward the door. “It’s all sitting there.” He points to a neatly folded pile of clothes on top of his desk. “And make sure you brush your teeth.”
Isagi continues to swear profusely in the midst of rushedly thanking Kaiser and stumbling out of his pajamas. Vaguely, he hears Kaiser talking in the main room and enters when he’s fully dressed.
His dad looks over at him with a smile. “Good morning, Yoichi! Take your time brushing your teeth.”
Isagi makes a face to that but excuses himself to the bathroom. Even with the water running, Isagi hears Kaiser saying in mixed English and German, “Careful! You’re going to be late!” Isagi just grumbles and wipes his face with a towel.
In the other room, Kaiser says goodbye to Issei. He managed to say goodbye to Iyo earlier since she had to leave but Issei had decided to get into work late since Isagi and Kaiser were leaving. Issei thanks Kaiser for visiting, for supporting Isagi, and for being with him: all the generic pleasantries. Kaiser has to remind himself to use his words when Issei suggests that he and Iyo visit them in Germany. God forbid Kaiser string any meaningful sentence together when he mentions looking forward to Kaiser coming to Japan again.
So, Isagi returns out of breath to see Kaiser ever so slightly misty-eyed and smiling with his dad’s hand on Kaiser’s shoulder. He nudges him with a knowing look, teasing, “We’re going to be late.”
“Piss off!” he mutters in German.
Isagi grins, turning to his dad. “Thanks for letting us stay.”
“Of course! Where else would you stay?” He leans forward. “Did you sleep well, Yoichi?”
Isagi scratches his cheek. “At the end, I did.”
Kaiser snickers. “I’ll bet. All that drool!”
Isagi glares. “Sorry to leave you to clean it up,” he apologizes to his dad.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it! You have a flight to catch. Just make sure you eat something at the airport. It’ll make you feel better.”
He nods.
“Then, go! And make sure you two message your mother and me when you land.”
“It’ll be early morning tomorrow,” Kaiser notes.
“That’s fine. Be safe and we’ll see you both again!”
With that, Kaiser and Isagi take their luggage and walk a short distance to the station. Waiting for the train, Isagi glances at his phone.
“Hey, aren’t we kind of early?”
“Hm?” Kaiser looks up from their luggage. “Two hours, Yoichi. We have to be there two hours earlier for international flights.”
“Right, but it’s not until 11.”
Kaiser just shrugs.
Isagi rolls his eyes.
They get on the train with no issues but Isagi gets antsy. He tries scrolling through his phone, messaging friends and family, even playing a dumb word game. Kaiser takes his phone away and touches his knee to get him to stop tapping his foot. Isagi frowns and Kaiser gently pushes Isagi’s head onto his shoulder.
“If you want to sleep again, you can,” he whispers.
It isn’t in Isagi’s plan to fall asleep on the train but he does. At least, he thinks he does. It’s far from the most comfortable sleeping position and napping surrounded by commuters isn’t ideal but he manages. Maybe, he thinks if he sleeps past the flight, he won’t have to get on. Actually, he’s certain Kaiser will wake him up in time, just as he already had earlier that day.
When they arrive at their stop, Kaiser just fixes Isagi’s ruffled hair and moves on.
Security is easy. It’s clear, concise, and standard for the flight they’re taking. It leaves so much more room for Isagi to worry.
Kaiser fixes his mask on his face and looks up at some signs. “We should find the terminal.”
Isagi grunts in agreement, grabbing the handle of his luggage.
“Then, do you want to eat something?”
He hums. “Probably. Dad would be upset if I didn’t.”
“I’m asking if you’re hungry.”
Isagi adjusts his hat. “Well, no. Not really,” he admits.
“Then, just a sandwich or fruit. Onigiri?” Kaiser suggests.
Isagi nods.
Standing in line, Kaiser sighs.
“What?”
“Why is this flight so early, Yoichi?”
“It’s hardly early,” he retorts.
“Wouldn't you have preferred sleeping in some more?”
“No.”
“Really? Not at all?”
Isagi pouts. “It was cheaper.”
“You can afford a different flight.” He looks at the ticket. “And business class at least.”
“Ever heard of being frugal, Mihya?”
He rolls his eyes. “You make too much money to be so frugal.”
“I share it with my parents, you know that.” Isagi frowns. “Besides, it feels weird spending that kind of money.”
While both of them know that’s how Isagi operates, Kaiser didn’t know that Isagi has no interest in booking anything other than economy seats for flights. At least, Isagi doesn’t think he knows.
Isagi keeps his mind off things well enough, munching slowly on some grapes and a cheese sandwich. Under the table, Kaiser kicks Isagi lightly as if there’s something more important than his drinking water and staring into the ocean of people in the airport.
Isagi knows better than to pick a fight but his nerves are jazzed and his scowl is surprisingly pronounced. Kaiser grins and gets up, throwing out Isagi’s trash and walking away. With arms crossed, Isagi follows him back to their luggage in the terminal.
He can’t help obsessively check if everything is still there and if he’s forgotten something. His phone is in his pocket and he still has his wallet and passport, and—oh, good! He brought a few earplugs and an extra power supply. Does he even have the cord for that? He rips open a backpack pocket to find it when he flinches.
Kaiser, not one for recognizing boundaries in a childhood home, less in a Japanese airport, pulls down his mask and leans down to plant a kiss to the base of his neck.
Isagi freezes, hand whipping up to hold the tingling feeling near his spine. Harshly, he whispers with a glare, “Mihya!”
It’s all perfectly to plan for Kaiser. Despite general perceptions, he isn’t one for being affectionate in public. Isagi gets embarrassed and truthfully, Kaiser prefers the freedom of privacy enough to restrain himself in public. But, if Isagi cursing Kaiser out for a little PDA means taking his mind off the flight, no harm, no foul! So, Kaiser naturally wraps himself around Isagi.
Even as he writhes in his hold, Kaiser can’t truly be bothered by the circumstances that led him here. Hugging his Yoichi was as comforting and necessary as cold water on a hot day.
“Really! What are you doing, Mihya?” Isagi manages weakly, forcing himself limp in Kaiser’s hold.
He doesn’t respond, just hums once and presses his cheek into his hair as he pulls him down into a seat. Isagi sits on his knees facing the completely wrong direction with his scarf high up his face and pressed awkwardly into Kaiser’s shoulder.
Despite everything, Isagi doesn’t move. Not because he can’t but because he doesn’t want to. Sure, other waiting passengers are trying to covertly look in their direction, either upset at a couple that can’t take their hands off each other or recognizing two professional football players behind hats and masks. Isagi also knows sitting like this means he’s going to be sore when he stands up. But, hidden in the warm shoulder of his partner, he can smell his cologne.
It’s a sea of reliability, the persistent cadence of waves reaching Isagi. It’s an easy scent to swim in and the soft way Kaiser’s hand runs up and down his arm feels like floating with his chest up to the cloudless sky. It’s shelter from the torrent of everything beyond: the prying eyes, the tired soul, the impending flight. The world stops spinning so fast.
Isagi has half a mind to turn this comfort into sleep but thinks better. When Kaiser starts whispering nonsense into his ear about stories his parents told him and an incident speaking to an older Japanese man in a restaurant, Isagi laughs. From then on, slumped against Kaiser and exchanging hushed, private stories, it isn’t all so bad.
Then, it’s about thirty minutes until boarding when a man over the intercom calls his name.
Isagi pries his head off Kaiser’s shoulder and lets go of his arm. He spots a man at the desk and approaches holding his ticket.
Kaiser watches patiently doing his best to guess what exactly conversation is being exchanged. He might have his glasses on but that doesn’t enlighten him when he knows jack about reading lips speaking rapid Japanese. But, the conversation is quick and Isagi is returning before he knows it. He sees the man pick up the intercom again and says another name.
“What was that?” Kaiser wonders.
Isagi rummages through their things and tosses a water bottle between his hands. “A first-class upgrade.”
“Oh, well, look at you!” he mocks teasingly. “You don’t even need to spend the money to sit in first class.”
Isagi takes a sip of water, then frowns. “I didn’t accept it.”
Kaiser raises an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“First class boards first!” he defends.
“Obviously,” Kaiser scoffs but doesn’t say much else. A handful of minutes difference sitting in a plane isn’t much Kaiser but if Isagi’s going to be difficult, then so be it. “Then what?”
Isagi hands Kaiser the water bottle and turns around, gesturing to a woman standing at the desk. “I rejected it so it seems that lady is going to first class.”
Kaiser swishes the water around, sighing. “It’s a real shame, Yoichi. I thought you were an opportunist.”
Isagi raises his nose. “Who says I’m not?”
Of course, first class is probably better than economy. That being said—and he won’t say this out loud—first-class tanks in the rankings because of how far away his Mihya would be. As likable and sweet as Isagi is, he couldn’t shake out an extra first-class upgrade from the poor airport employee. Even if he could, Isagi knows that they probably wouldn’t sit near each other. And, in the very slim chance that they did, first-class seats are naturally much farther away from one another than economy seats. After all, Isagi needs Kaiser within puke-bag distance and oxygen-mask distance, not to mention be close enough for a kick of Dramamine or blood-constricting hand holding.
Finally, after economy is called, Kaiser says, “You need to calm down.”
Isagi makes a face, tapping his hand against his luggage handle. “I’ll translate for you.”
Waiting in line, Kaiser responds, “I know how to speak Japanese.”
He shrugs. “You’re not great at listening.”
“I’ll do just fine, Yoichi.”
Kaiser is probably right. Even if he’s awkward and clunky in another language and is hidden behind his glasses and mask, he usually does just fine. Isagi allows himself, even if just for a moment, to think he’ll do just fine as well.
He trips over his words a little speaking to the man at the desk. With his ears stuffed with metaphorical cotton, he manages to correct himself and stands off to the side waiting for Kaiser’s turn. Isagi watches him do it perfectly and rolls his eyes at being too perfect. He tells him as much as they walk down the jetway.
“Have you ever considered not being so much for a day? Like, would it kill you to tone it down for a day?”
Kaiser hums apathetically. “Is my perfection too much for you? Would it kill you if I continued?”
“You’re really difficult, you know?”
He nudges him with his shoulder. “Oh, I know.”
“But, really—“ Isagi minds the tiny gap between the jetway and the plane, pessimistically wondering what might happen if it split away from each other as Kaiser’s step falls in line with his, “—it’s pretty unfair that you held that conversation so well.”
“While you stumbled and fumbled?” Kaiser suggests.
“Yeah, whatever!”
Kaiser pats his shoulder as they stop in front of their seats. “Try a little harder next time, Yoichi. I’m sure you can do it.” He reaches for their luggage. “Probably,” he adds.
Isagi ignores him in favor of getting their luggage into the overhead compartment. Then, after a minor spat in the middle of the busy plane walkway, they stop blocking the foot traffic and move into their seats with Kaiser by the window and Isagi in the middle. Kaiser shuts the window as Isagi fiddles with his seatbelt.
The routine of in-flight safety is a real bore for Kaiser who has already elected to read the book he brought. After all, he knows full well that Isagi will take up too much of his attention when things actually start rolling for Kaiser to make good progress in his book. And if Isagi is unnecessarily engrossed in this woman speaking about safety exits then so be it.
Isagi’s hand finds Kaiser’s thigh when the woman concludes, mentioning that take-off would occur shortly. Like a habit, he starts tracing shapes and figures on his thigh before it isn’t enough to distract him. He moves on to Japanese characters when he realizes Kaiser is methodically trying to figure it out.
“Do that one again,” he demands, eyes closed trying to focus. “Pear,” he guesses.
Isagi writes another.
“That was sloppy. Do it again. Water.”
Isagi smiles.
“Rice. Shoyu? Are you hungry or something, Yoichi?”
He shrugs as the plane starts to rumble with motion. He doesn’t think about it too long because Kaiser is taking his hand and tracing letters onto his palm. “Wait! I wasn’t even paying attention! Do it again!”
Kaiser complies, tracing a moderately long word that he has to write a few times before Isagi realizes.
“You’re the worst, Mihya!” He punches his shoulder. He immediately takes Kaiser’s hand to return the sentiment as Kaiser smiles.
He laughs when he finally gets what Isagi has written, commenting, “So mature, Yoichi!”
“Hey! I wasn’t the one who thought to start with ‘son of a bitch!’ I’m just following suit!”
It’s several profane words in various languages later when Isagi realizes they’re well in the sky. There’s the occasional turbulence and cough of another passenger that sticks in the stuffy air. But, as always, his heartbeat steadies as the altitude climbs and levels off. It’s just rare that the parts before are so manageable.
Actually, it was a real issue when Isagi had to travel to Japan before Kaiser could. It meant he’d spent the entire 15-plus hours in a metal bird with nothing but hopes and prays.
But, right now, Isagi looks over at Kaiser trying to read his book again despite one arm being restrained by Isagi’s. He has a serious look on his face halfway through the chapter, and the overhead lights fight past his glasses to shine in his blue eyes. His hair is nicely in a well-tamed bun that Isagi wants to undo. Kaiser doesn’t like people messing up his physical appearance in public so Isagi refrains from pulling out the hair tie and running his fingers through his hair. If he asked really nicely, Kaiser would probably comply but visually, it’s comforting all the same to Isagi.
Isagi reclines his chair with a sigh, thinking about how far he’s come. He doesn’t really know how he got here anyway. At some point, the hate he possessed for Kaiser was confined only to the pitch and the occasional, incredibly heated argument. Mostly, the feelings Isagi possesses for Kaiser are… nicer? It’s hard to say.
He does know this much sitting in this behemoth of a transportation vessel: Kaiser is his safety precaution in the worst moments of his life. He’s his seatbelt, his airbag, his life vest. And when he’s just some guy, he’s his worst enemy and his favorite person. Really, there must be something wrong with Isagi. And Kaiser, too, for that matter.
He turns to Kaiser. “What’s your problem, Mihya?”
Kaiser frowns but doesn’t look up from his book. “Are you picking a fight right now? Do you want to switch seats?”
“No! I’m asking how fucked up in the head you are,” Isagi reiterates.
Kaiser puts down his book and turns seriously to Isagi. He rests his hand on his shoulder and says, “You’re so fucking problematic, do you know that?”
“That’s what I’m saying! You don’t have to be here.”
Kaiser pauses, trying to gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t get why Isagi might be self-destructing but it sounds a lot like it. “Well, I’ve yet to find a good reason not to be here,” he decides.
Isagi blinks. “That’s it?”
“What else do you want me to say?”
He blinks again. “Nothing. That’s fine.” He looks away.
It isn’t that Isagi’s not wrong. He’s difficult as fuck and being his boyfriend, Kaiser knows that firsthand. And he’s seen a lot of shit being around him and seen a lot with him. He’s also not completely lacking in self-awareness not to know that he’s a fucked up guy himself. Kaiser just figures they’re two people who saw all the worst parts of each other and still said, “Fuck it. I can’t get enough of you.” At least, that’s what Kaiser knows for himself.
Because of his fucked up ways, he’s always looking for a reason not to continue. Like Isagi being a stubborn crybaby and needing his help before, during, and after flights but, at the end of the day, it’s nothing to Kaiser. And, some days it is something and Isagi smiles so he forces himself to figure it out. Today isn’t one of those days. When Isagi takes his arm and leans on his shoulder with that stupid, dopey little face, Kaiser honestly has no good answer for why he wouldn’t be here.
“Thanks for coming with me, Mihya,” Isagi says.
Kaiser pats his head a few times in his silent response. Isagi presumes he’s saying something like “no problem” but he doesn’t think he needs to know the details.
He survived the last flight he took alone so, all things considered, he doesn’t need Kaiser like he sometimes feels he does. But, he likes sitting next to him. And Isagi would really prefer doing things like this, doing this whole life thing with Kaiser than without him. Life’s better that way—with his Mihya.