Work Text:
Isaac isn’t even sure what caused the fight this time.
It could be any one of a dozen things that the two of them have fought over this past month or so. Family obligations, dishes in the sink, the shitty washing machine that won’t do its job.
“All I’m asking is for one meeting! How hard is that?”
In the back of his mind, it’s been getting worse, he knows. The fights. The arguments. At the moment, he can’t bring himself to care.
“For the millionth time, no! Damn it, Isaac, this guy is dangerous! I’m not putting you at risk!”
“It’s just a meeting,” Isaac responds, trying his best to keep his voice level. He’s not even sure why he’s continuing to argue about this. They’ve been going round and round in circles for nearly a week. “And who are you to talk about risk?”
“That’s my job,” Luke shoots back, glaring at him. Isaac’s eyes drift over to the eyepatch, and Luke huffs. “You know that, and you still chose to be with me.”
“I also have a job to do,” Isaac retorts, fingers clenching around the countertop in their kitchen. “Look, if it concerns you that much, then come with me!”
“This guy is a vigilante. He won’t come to the meeting if a hero does.”
“How do you even know about him, then? Much less enough to know how to contact him?”
“I told you, I got his information from the Lady of the Lace. He changes it every week.” Luke yanks open the freezer, pulling out an ice pack from its depths.
He watches as his boyfriend applies the ice pack to his shoulder. There’s no sling, but Isaac noticed how he’d been holding it stiffly, how he flinched when he moved it too suddenly.
“That means I’m running out of time!” He moves to block Luke’s exit from the kitchenette. “I’m so close to being done with this article. Glitch is one of the last people I need to talk to about the topic that I know isn’t directly associated with the Agency.”
“Isaac, it’s just one guy. A vigilante, at that. What difference will it make?” Luke pushes past him, moving to drop onto their couch.
“That’s not-“ he starts, then stops, pausing. Inhales, and lets it out slowly. “I’ve been working on this for years. I’m not going to half ass it at the last second because you’re being selfish.”
Luke’s gaze turns to him, flinty amber boring into his soul. “Oh, so I’m selfish for wanting to keep my boyfriend safe from vigilantes?”
“The records don’t show him as having harmed any civilians-“
“I could say the same thing about you, you know.” Luke cuts him off, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table. “For the past month you’ve been acting like nothing but this report matters to you even when I’m sitting right here.”
Isaac moves to the other side of the coffee table, looking down at his partner. “It does matter,” he insists again. “Luke, I’ve been working this article since before I met you. I’ve met with dozens of witnesses. If the Agency is behind the scenes of this new crime wave, then-“
His boyfriend holds up a hand, silencing him. “Stop. Just- listen, Isaac. Most of the time, I’m willing to hear whatever it is you have to say about the Agency, because no work place is perfect, and I’m aware of that. But this isn’t that. It has its flaws, but the Agency isn’t corrupt or whatever the hell it is you’re thinking.”
Isaac’s teeth grits together, and he gestures to his work desk, papers and articles and photos scattered all over it. “So we’re just supposed to ignore the insurmountable evidence I’ve been collecting?”
“The Agency is good. And as long as I’m working there, I’m not going to sit around here and listen to you accuse us of anything illegal.”
He sets his jaw. “Even if it’s true?”
Luke’s gaze is steady, unflinching. Like the marble statues he sees when they go visit the museum together on the rare occasion Luke has a day off.
“I think,” Luke starts slowly, as though talking to a toddler. “You’re reading into things. What reason could the Agency have behind this wave of villain attacks?”
His hands ball into fists at his side. “That’s what I’m trying to find out! The Prism Port Hero Agency may be the enforcers of the law, but everyone who works for it--yourself included--is bound to the law and the rules of justice. No one should be above it. That’s why there’s an entire field called investigative journalism, for this exact reason.”
“Even if it is true--if you publish that article, it’s career suicide,” Luke reminds him, not for the first time, his voice gentler this time, but the attempt to change the subject isn’t lost on Isaac. “The outrage it would cause would ripple across the city. True or not, there’s going to be an investigation, into both you and the Agency, and I doubt the Agency will forget that easily.”
“The Blacklight will back me up. That’s our motto. To shine light on the hidden truths. It’s something I figured would be a possibility a long time ago.” Shaking his head, Isaac reaches into his pocket for the Advil he keeps with him for moments like this, making his way back to the kitchen. “Every article I’ve ever written and published, I’ve been prepared to accept the consequences that may follow. Professionally and personally.”
Luke’s fist slams on the pillow, and for a moment Isaac swears that the room gets hotter--though not as hot as the amber-eyed gaze boring into him from Luke’s good eye. “So that’s what I am now? A consequence?”
“I didn’t say-”
“That’s what you implied.”
Isaac pops his pills in his mouth, chugs his water and slams it down. “That’s not what I meant.”
“If you publish this, the consequences will backfire on me, too,” Luke argues, finally standing up from the couch again. “Personally and professionally. Do you not care about that, Isaac?”
He twitches, but Luke has a point. Any hero that works for the Hero Agency will face backlash over the article, should it ever reach the light of day. Luke’s made that clear to him several times over, even if he personally had nothing to do with it.
Luke sees the advantage, presses on it. “You’re calling me selfish for wanting to keep you safe, but did you even think about how these accusations would affect me or my reputation if you were to publish it?”
“It’d only affect you if you had something to do with it. And I know you don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now.”
“That could mean my coworkers, my allies, have nothing to do with it, too.”
They were getting nowhere with this. Whatever the original argument was about now, it was lost, and all they were doing was rehashing the same problems they had before, every time Isaac has brought this subject up in the past.
“Maybe not most,” Isaac agrees, going to grab his coat and shoes from by the door. “But it has to be coming from someone within the Agency. High up people at that.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t- I can’t keep arguing this for the thousandth time. I need some air.”
He doesn’t even bother putting his shoes on, Isaac’s name on Luke’s lips as he shuts the door behind him.