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“Kaiser.”
Isagi chuckles softly, voice filled with fondness as he watches the older man stir. He reaches out without thinking, fingers brushing against strands of golden hair that have fallen over Kaiser’s face. He tucks them away gently, the warmth of his skin lingering for just a second longer than necessary.
The response is nothing more than a lazy grumble, muffled into the cushions. Kaiser shifts slightly, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other dangling off the side of the couch as if he couldn’t be bothered to move. He looks completely and utterly exhausted, his usual sharp attitude dulled by sleep.
Isagi doesn’t blame him. Bastard München had been pushing themselves to the limit for weeks, preparing for the upcoming matches against the toughest teams. Late-night strategy meetings, grueling training sessions, the constant pressure to be better—it was a cycle that never truly stopped.
So when the team was finally given a well-earned break for a week, Kaiser hadn’t hesitated for even a second. He had collapsed onto the sofa the moment they got home, limbs sprawled carelessly, and passed out before Isagi could even make a sarcastic comment about it.
Now, he looks softer than usual. Less of an emperor, more of someone tired enough to forget to take off his jersey before falling asleep.
Isagi shakes his head, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile. “Slept well?” he murmurs, voice teasing, but gentle as he lowers himself onto the couch beside him.
Kaiser groans, shifting just enough to crack open one eye. He looks at Isagi as if he’s the most bothersome thing in the world, but the sleep-heavy weight of his gaze betrays howcomfortable he is.
“You talk too much,” he grumbles, voice rough with sleep. His arm falls away from his face, and instead of moving away, he lazily reaches out, fingers brushing against Isagi’s wrist, like a silent request.
Isagi rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets Kaiser’s fingers curl around his, loose and lazy, as he reclines back against the couch.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, a little softer this time. “It’s already evening. Are you planning to not sleep tonight?”
He shifts, propping his elbow against the back of the couch as he leans in slightly, peering down at Kaiser with a lopsided grin. His fingers drum absentmindedly against his knee.
Kaiser exhales through his nose, a lazy, half-annoyed sound. He doesn’t bother lifting his head, just tilts it slightly so he can look at Isagi through half-lidded eyes. “Does it matter? We don’t have practice tomorrow.”
Isagi hums, tapping his fingers against his knee in thought. “True.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything else, thinking in silence. The kind that only exists between people who have spent enough time together to not need constant conversation. After all, they’ve been living together for two years now—long enough for silence to feel like a second language, one they speak fluently without effort.
It’s nothing like when they first started living together, those awkward moments where they share space. Now? Now, the quiet is just... easy. Like a pair of shoes, perfectly molded to their feet, without the need to consciously step in the right direction.
The soft glow of the evening sun filters through the windows, casting a golden hue over Kaiser’s face, making his already unfairly perfect features look tender.
Isagi watches him, gaze lingering on the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his lashes flutter slightly, betraying his half-awake state. Kaiser isn’t fully asleep, but he’s not moving either.
A quiet huff escapes Isagi before he moves forward, just slightly. His weight leans in, his arm moving from the back of the couch to rest along the cushions behind Kaiser, bringing them closer without outright closing the distance. His knee brushes against Kaiser’s thigh, and the touch is small, insignificant even, but it makes something flicker in those tired eyes.
Kaiser doesn’t react immediately, but Isagi catches the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric of his jersey, like he’s resisting the urge to reach out.
“Comfortable?” Isagi murmurs, voice quieter now, almost softened around the edges.
Kaiser blinks once, slow and lazy, before his lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smirk, but isn’t far from it either. “What, are you trying to tuck me in now, Yoichi?”
Isagi rolls his eyes, shifting just enough to nudge Kaiser’s shoulder with his own. “Yeah, sure, that’s exactly what I’m doing. You want me to sing you a lullaby too, bastard?”
Kaiser exhales a short laugh, something warm and breathy, before he moves his position slightly, turning. He doesn’t pull away and doesn’t say anything arrogant for once. Just looks up at the bright blue eyes he had fallen in love with years ago, his gaze steady, and a little too aware for someone who should be asleep.
Isagi holds eye contact for a second longer before sighing, shaking his head with a small smile.
“Go back to sleep, Kaiser.”
“Not tired.”
“Liar.”
Kaiser only smiles back at that before sitting upright, his hair a mess—blond strands sticking out at odd angles, the tips a faded blue that gives it a rough, uneven look. Two rat tails hang from the back of his neck, twisted in hasty knots as if he’d just rolled out of snow without a care.
Isagi sighs, watching Kaiser’s hair go from messy to even messier as he runs a hand through it. “You’re making it worse.” He moves forward, his fingers dipping into the chaos, trying to untangle the blonde and blue locks. “One nap, Kaiser. Just one. And this happens.”
Kaiser mutters under his breath, clearly unbothered. “I don’t see you doing any better than me.”
Isagi rolls his eyes, tugging at a stubborn rat tail. “I’ve learned that your hair has a mind of its own. It doesn’t listen to anyone.” He says, almost amused by the disaster in front of him. “Seriously, how do you wake up looking like you’ve been through a windstorm?”
Kaiser just shrugs, a half grin pulling at his lips. “Comes with the territory of having such great hair, Yoichi.”
Isagi raises an eyebrow, pausing his efforts to undo the mess. “Great? More like a disaster.” He scoffs, mindlessly tugging a little harder on Kaiser’s hair as he tries to detangle it, earning a few oh’s and ah’s from the older man. “This hair’s got more of a personality than you do.”
“Are you jealous?” Kaiser lets out a low laugh, turning his head just enough to catch Isagi’s gaze, his eyes scanning him with a deliberate slowness, like he’s savoring the moment.
“Can’t blame you, really. If I had hair as dull as yours, I’d probably be green with envy too.” He smirks, yet his tone is as playful as it gets. “But hey, some of us are born with flair, others... well, they just get a standard issue.”
Isagi clicks his tongue, his patience snapping like a worn-out thread. Without thinking, he grabs a fistful of Kaiser’s messy hair and gives it a sharp yank downward.
Kaiser lets out a low grunt, caught off guard for half a second. “Ow, ow—hey!”
“If you’re awake enough to run your mouth, you’re awake enough to make dinner already,” Isagi deadpans, already pushing himself up from the couch. He glares back before mumbling under his breath, “Unbelievable.”
Stretching his arms over his head, he shakes his head as if he’s truly done with Kaiser’s antics. “I swear, you just love hearing yourself talk.” He barely takes a step before a firm grip catches him around the waist.
The next thing he knows, he’s being pulled back, a startled noise escaping him as he stumbles.
“Oh, of course.” Kaiser nods, his voice laced with satisfaction as he locks his arms around Isagi’s torso. He nudges himself slightly, adjusting his hold with ridiculous ease before resting his chin atop Isagi’s shoulder. Isagi stiffens at the unexpected closeness, his breath catching for just a second. Kaiser’s warmth presses against his back, his grip loose, but undeniably set.
“Kaiser.”
“Mmm?” Kaiser just lightly nuzzles into the crook of Isagi’s shoulder. His breath is steady against Isagi’s skin and yet his entire presence is impossibly soft. “What’s wrong? You were so eager to leave just a second ago.”
Isagi lets out an exhale, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. His hands instinctively come up to push away, but Kaiser’s grip only tightens, a slow, languid squeeze as if to say, not happening.
“You’re such a pain,” Isagi complains, but his voice lacks real bite. His shoulders relax despite himself, the tension melting away little by little.
Kaiser chuckles, the sound low, and pleased. “And yet, here you are.” He shifts, letting his head rest more comfortably against Isagi’s shoulder. His fingers trace shapes against his side, absentmindedly, as if following a rhythm only he can hear.
Isagi sighs, he knows he should move. He really should. But Kaiser is warm, and after weeks of exhausting training, sitting here like this, just for a moment, doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.
“...This doesn’t mean I’m cooking for you,” he mutters, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “I swear.”
“Of course not.” Kaiser grins against his shoulder. “But can’t we just order takeout tonight, though?” He leans forward, his voice still groggy with sleep.
Isagi stiffens slightly, but doesn’t answer right away.
Kaiser picks up on it immediately. He smirks, pressing a lazy kiss to the back of Isagi’s neck. “C’mon, Yoichi, let’s not pretend you actually like my cooking—”
“No.”
He snickers. “No, what? No, you don’t like my cooking, or no, we can’t order takeout?”
Isagi scowls, refusing to elaborate. He reaches down to pry Kaiser’s arms off his waist, but Kaiser drawls, arms tightening around Isagi’s waist with an almost lazy pull, like he’s reeling him in without an ounce of effort.
“What’s the big deal now?”
Isagi shoves his head. “No, dumbass. I just refuse to let you convince me again after what happened last time.”
Kaiser raises an eyebrow, grinning all while knowing very well. “Last time?”
“Oh, don’t act all stupid now,” Isagi groans, tilting his head back with a long-suffering sigh. “The disaster of two months ago? When we ordered from that random place you insisted it would be ‘a hidden gem’? Yeah. Real hidden. Because I swear that curry was just repackaged cat food.”
Kaiser laughs. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad—”
“I had food poisoning for two days, Kaiser.”
Kaiser doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, like he’s considering it, then shrugs. “Builds character.”
Isagi physically twitches. “Oh, does it?”
“Mhm.”
Isagi scoffs, crossing his arms. “I spent weeks in Blue Lock surviving on nothing but natto and pickled radish. That was more than enough character development for a lifetime. Trust me, I know what bad food is.”
Kaiser groans as he rolls his eyes. “Ugh, not this again.”
“Yes, this again,” Isagi deadpans. “Do you have any idea what it’s like eating the same sad, shitty meal every single day? Every. Single. Day.”
“Boo, hoo. Oh no, how tragic,” Kaiser teases, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “You poor thing, suffering through your villain origin story.” He pats Isagi’s head, but he can’t help but notice how it smells—clean, a bit fresh, like shampoo or something else. It’s... nice. Really nice.
Isagi elbows him again, but Kaiser only chuckles, pressing yet another kiss to the side of his neck, like he’s trying to physically distract him out of this conversation.
“Look at you,” Kaiser murmurs, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk that’s equal parts teasing and downright entertaining. “Getting all worked up over the mentions of some takeout.”
Isagi’s scowl deepened, eyebrows furrowing as he opened his mouth to speak. “I swear—”
“I know,” Kaiser interrupts, fully grinning now. “You’re not cooking for me. You swear. Heard you the first time.”
Isagi sighs, rubbing his temples, his frustration practically radiating off him.
Kaiser lets the silence linger for a moment, looking like he’s weighing his options. Then, with that same infuriating expression, he leans back and casually adds, “Steak and some wine, then, Yoichi? A nice red would pair perfectly, don’t you think?” He raises an eyebrow, as if he’s just suggested the most reasonable thing in the world.
Isagi narrows his eyes, trying to keep the annoyance at bay, but Kaiser isn’t finished. He leans in a little, his hand pulling Isagi to the side, his fingers curling gently at the back of his neck. For a moment, Isagi doesn’t move, caught off guard by Kaiser’s proximity.
Then, without warning, Kaiser leans in, his fingers gently tilting Isagi’s chin to the side as he presses a soft kiss. It’s brief, but enough to catch Isagi off guard. As Kaiser pulls back slowly, his lips still curled into that signature smirk, the lingering heat between them makes it hard for Isagi to shake off the moment.
“And don’t forget the kintsuba we’ve got left from last night,” he mutters, his eyes casually drifting around before locking back onto Isagi. “Perfect for dessert.”
Isagi blinks, the sudden rush of warmth creeping up his neck before he can stop it. He clears his throat, trying to fight the slight flush creeping across his face. “You’re insufferable.” His voice is steadier than he feels.
Kaiser only shrugs with a lazy smile, his fingers brushing against Isagi’s jaw, like he’s utterly pleased with himself. “And you absolutely love it.”