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Michael Kaiser didn't know what he was expecting when he opened the front door of his place and found a bunch of Blue Lockers hanging outside it.
Hiori Yō and Mikage Reo looked particularly apologetic, while Bachira Meguru fluttered around Itoshi Rin with a teasing smile. The latter carried his boyfriend while wearing the most distasteful and sour expression he’d ever seen.
Finding his boyfriend turned dead weight while his friends dropped him back home at 2am was not one of them.
“Rin-chan, don’t move him too much; I think he’s gonna puke.” Warned Bachira Meguru while Itoshi Rin huffed upset, manhandling his boyfriend to finally let him stand on his own feet.
Yoichi looked all disoriented, and his wobbly legs could barely hold his own weight, so the bumblebee quickly helped him walk the steps needed to get within his reach, and Kaiser moved to catch him before he fell.
“What the fuck?” He demanded as Itoshi Rin walked away, apparently deciding he was done with dealing with anything related to his boyfriend—the one they took away from him and now gave him back when they were done being stupid. “What the heck is this?”
“Please don’t be mad; I can explain.” Hiori said, his tone calm and nervous, stepping back while Yoichi—his boyfriend and suddenly, becoming a situation he had to deal with—began babbling.
“Start. Now. Why is he this drunk?” Kaiser hissed, just a moment before he felt the arms of his boyfriend moving around his neck, holding him there.
“But I’m noooooot dru—hic, hic—” Yoichi spaced out for a moment before turning to lean closer to him, smirking close and reeking of alcohol. “Maybe I am. A little tiny—hic!—drunk. Hahaha!”
A little? This was the drunkest Michael Kaiser had seen him in a long, long time.
Yoichi began squirming under his arms, and Kaiser quickly shot a glare at the friends of his boyfriend, who were already on the run down the corridor, away from the door.
“Hiori, you have a fuckton to explain.” Kaiser demanded as he handled Yoichi maneuvering for a piggyback ride while Yoichi still babbled incoherencies, all sluggishly. Hiori, on the farthest part of the corridor, turned to see him, joining both hands as if praying, and bowed in apology to him.
“Tomorrow, I promise. Okay?” And without waiting for his agreement, the four soccer players disappeared down the stairs to leave him alone with a wasted Isagi Yoichi.
Kaiser rubbed his eyes with a hand, trying to soften the wrinkle between his eyebrows while he held Yoichi tightly, walking with measured steps back inside the apartment while his boyfriend babbled languidly, the words slurring through his lips, his body relaxing, weighing on his back.
He should have seen it coming. When his friends from the former Blue Lock project appeared on the threshold of their home, alleging they were visiting from all around the world just because, Kaiser already dreaded the outcome.
It wasn’t a just because situation, of course. Blue Lock just decided that winning the Bundesliga again was reason enough to invade Germany and, apparently, get his fucking boyfriend drunk enough to become a problem. His problem.
“Stop moving, or you can fall.” He warned as he kept on walking straight for the bedroom, holding him tightly as he moved with enough haste to put an end to this ridiculousness while trying to make sure Yoichi didn’t do something stupid—like puking on his fucking hair.
“But I’m fine~” His boyfriend whined, his voice dragging the words in a mixture of groans and grunts while kicking his ribs with the knees—probably imagining he was riding a fucking horse and he was holding the reigns.
“You’re fucking wasted. And stop. Moving. If you make us fall, I will fucking kill you.” Kaiser hissed, but then Yoichi—drowned in alcohol and smelling awfully—threaded his fingers between his hair and pulled it off with a laugh, as if nothing else mattered in the world. “You piece of shit—”
It seemed no one in Blue Lock was aware that Isagi Yoichi—the top striker of the project and ace striker along with him at Bastard München—was a lightweight and couldn’t handle his liquor at all.
Well, he supposed Hiori knew. But it seemed he didn’t care this night in particular. The fucking sadist.
He finally got into the master bedroom, and Kaiser sighed as he stepped into it, then maneuvered a little more to make his boyfriend stand on his feet enough to get him to the bed. The blond noticed how his body swung once he landed on the mattress, unable to keep still or sit straight.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Kaiser chided on him as Yoichi spaced out again. The stench of alcohol and sweat was disgusting, but he focused on unbuttoning the shirt. “You know full well you’re a fucking lightweight, so why would you—?”
He couldn’t finish his sentence because that’s when Yoichi made a strangled sound and Kaiser looked at his face, startled. Then, the blue-haired striker roughly pried his hands off him, trying to push him away.
“Please, go away.” Yoichi asked, his voice all guttural and rough with alcohol. “You’re so pretty—hic, hic—but I have a boyfriend, and I don’t wanna sleep with you!”
Kaiser stared at his boyfriend with a frown, sighing and rubbing his temples, summoning all the patience he could come up with right there. The realization dawned on him then—Yoichi must’ve been so wasted he probably failed to recognize him.
“As if I would want to sleep with you.” And he did, just not like this. “Let’s put you to sleep now and—” He returned to the buttons on his shirt before his boyfriend held him by the wrists, trying to stop him from keeping going. When Kaiser raised his eyes again, Yoichi was scowling at him.
The blue-haired man hiccuped a bunch of times before scratching his head, seemingly zoning out. Probably trying to piece together words in his mind before forming a coherent thought. “Don’t think you can woo me!” He insisted while trying to push him away, his arms moving to help him to take him off the shirt he was wearing. “I’m—hic, hic—you’re so handsome. Why are you so handsome?” Then he felt the Japanese striker stretching a hand to caress his cheek dotingly.
He hadn't dealt with him enough to be this done with his drunken shenanigans, but Kaiser had already lost the battle of patience, and he wasn’t having any of this anymore, so he ignored him as his hands pushed him gently to lie in the bed to undo the denim pants now. Yoichi relaxed in a matter of a second, apparently forgetting where he was and with whom, as he began singing a drunkard song about pineapples, laughing out loud at the same time.
When Kaiser finally pulled his jeans down, Yoichi—who was still laughing and singing—dead stopped immediately and raised his head enough to see him, confused.
“What do you think you’re doin’?” Yoichi asked, watching him kneel in front of him, already helping him to take off his shoes without saying a word. Then, as if he had finally realized something, Yoichi began to kick and squirm, all sloppy and clumsy. “Don’t! You’re not gonna fuck me; I’m taken, and you’re not my Micha!”
“What the f—!?” Kaiser felt the dread coming through his skin, but remembered his boyfriend was beyond rationalization because he was absolutely drunk and sighed again. “Just go to sleep.”
“Leafe me alone—hic!” The blue-haired striker whined, still struggling, trying to break free from his grasp.
“I don't—just get into the fucking blankets already!” Kaiser argued as he finished pulling his shoes away, and Yoichi still groaned drunkenly, even when the blond wasn’t touching him anymore.
“My Micha is gonna catch you tryin’ to take advantage of me and he's gonna kill youuuu!” Yoichi babbled, the word still dragged through his tongue, sounding more like a mumble with clipped words. “You may be handsome but my boyfriend is way handsomer than youuuu!”
Kaiser wanted to laugh but was too bitter by this reckless behavior to do it properly. The only thing keeping him from lashing out toward Blue Lock for handling his drunk boyfriend this poorly, was the adorable circumstance in which Yoichi kept talking about him with the absolute confidence he was someone else.
“Aaaand… he’s strong. And so smart and—hic, hic—fuck Hiori. He said absinthe was good. It was all green and they put a sugar cube on top—” Yoichi was so out of himself he could barely keep the topic on trail to say something coherent.
But at least now he knew—Hiori Yō had given him absinthe, and now he was beyond drunk.
“Okay, you drunktard. Whatever you say.” Kaiser said, sighing once more while taking his socks off, then taking the jeans too, while Yoichi wiggled to move upward in the bed.
“But don’t touch meee!” Yoichi shrieked, kicking again. “I’m gonna tell Micha!”
And Kaiser was finding this excess of delusions—kinda entertaining. It was teasing material to haunt his boyfriend for a while. “He’s not gonna come.” He declared, the devilish smirk blooming on his lips as he reached for the nightstand to grab a bottle of water he got way before Yoichi arrived back home.
Yoichi finally relaxed, apparently recognizing the space, and he moved around the bed, looking for his exact spot to lie in bed. “Ugh, you're just as imbecile as—hic, hic!” Kaiser heard him intently, while taking a gulp of his water, wondering if perhaps he should share his water with him to help Yoichi to sober up. “My Micha is so fine—hic, hic—have you seen those thighs? I think I want him to choke me with them.”
Of course, Michael Kaiser wasn’t expecting such a declaration in a fit of honesty, and he not only choked on his water, he also spit it out with shock.
Yoichi guffawed, clearly entertained.
“What the fuck, Yoichi, you fucking freak!?” He demanded, feeling the face all warm and flushed as Yoichi stopped laughing, not even glancing at him.
“Fuckoff! I won’t let you fuck me, only my Micha can!”
“You're full as a howitzer; it's ridiculous.” Kaiser rolled his eyes, and Yoichi stopped fighting and protesting to process what he just said.
“A… what?”
“Nothing, just—” Kaiser handed him the water bottle. “Let’s drink some water and put you to sleep.” He said, trying to brush the weird burning feeling on his throat after almost dying choked by his water and trying to focus on his drunk boyfriend, who grabbed the bottle, then let it roll to the edge of the bed.
“Don't wanna—hic, hic.” Yoichi mumbled, all flushed with drunkenness, and Kaiser glared at him, disapproving.
“Of course you're being a little shit.” He said while walking to the side of the bed to pick up the water bottle again. “Here, stop being an idiot and take some water.”
“No!” Yoichi insisted, pushing his hand away from him. “Micha is gonna kick your ass!”
“Oh, I’m so scared!” Kaiser grinned, handling the water again, and Yoichi finally took the water bottle, holding it as if it were a treasure.
“You should! He is—hic, hic—” Yoichi spaced out for a moment, as if he'd just forgotten what he was saying. “You know who is a cheater?” He asked, groaning softly while stretching his body lazily.
“Ha?”
“That fuckn’ crow.” Yoichi mumbled.
Kaiser didn't get it. “Who?”
“The crow.” He groaned again, rolling on his side, looking for a more comfortable position in bed. Then he cuddled against a pillow, the words stumbling on his lips, hugging the water bottle. “‘toya said he was on his sixth shot.”
The crow. He referred to another former Blue Lock member. The midfielder? Karasu Tabito? What had he had to do with—
Ah, of course. The drinking thing surely had something to do with him.
“Of course.” He deadpanned, sitting next to Yoichi in the bed, trying to help his boyfriend to adjust his position in bed to get him to sleep already without the fuss; he could choke to death in case he wanted to throw up.
“And I couldn't lose!” Yoichi insisted, determined. Then he stretched once more, smiling. “I won.” He smirked while turning around, looking for his face.
“Really?”
“Yup.” The Japanese striker assured him, his voice still ragged and hoarse. “I drank…” Yoichi tried to see his fingers in the dim light of the room, then gestured at him by showing his two hands wide open. “This much! Hahahaha— hic, hic!”
“Absinthe?”
“Yes!” Yoichi rubbed his face against the satin sheets, keeping the water bottle between his arms. “And beer, and rum, and—”
That’s when Kaiser finally understood. The problem wasn’t the drinking in itself—indeed, it was the quantity, sure—but he also mixed liquors on top of that. “You sure are an imbecile. Who taught you to drink like that?”
“Rin.”
Another guilty name to demand explanations from the following morning, aside from Hiori; Kaiser made a mental note of it. “Has nobody taught you to never mix your drinks? That just proves you shouldn’t—”
Yoichi was already zoning out for longer periods of time, then rolled over to see him, confused. “Who are you?”
“Your fucking boyfriend.” Kaiser deadpanned.
“You liar. Micha scowls way worse than you!” He whined before adjusting his position in bed, holding a pillow with an arm and resting his head against it.
Kaiser just rolled his eyes.
“You think you can get in my bed with a pretty face?” Yoichi wasn’t looking at him anymore, but Kaiser still heard him clear and loud.
“This is also my bed, you shitty Yoichi.”
“Nope—hic, hic—this is my bed. Now go away before Micha is here. He is super strong! I’m sure he will—hic hic, hahaha—rip off your throat—well, he won't be my boyfriend soon.”
The world froze in that very second, at least for Michael Kaiser. The room dropped a bunch of degrees as he processed what Isagi Yoichi had just said, and Kaiser felt the dread surfacing on his skin, brewing in his blood.
“Wha—Yoichi, what are you talking about?” Kaiser urged him to answer, but Yoichi just whined, upset.
“Stop it! You're being sooooo rude and you don't know meeee!” He protested, but Kaiser felt so weird and on the verge of spiraling.
“What the hell are you talking about? Your boyfriend?” He insisted, tugging his arm to make Yoichi see him.
… and he found him smirking.
They’d been together for a couple of years, after a long career of teasing and heated rivalry. Somehow, Yoichi made space in his heart the same way Kaiser did for him, too. They still held that passion burning on the pitch, and the teasing and bantering was something theirs. Yoichi didn’t seem to mind. So it was all a lie? It couldn’t be. There was no one who could understand Isagi Yoichi like he did. Perhaps he misread something? Did he get all the signs wrong!?
Of course he would. After all, no matter how much he worked himself to improve his own inadequacies, he was still—
“Hey.” Yoichi took him out of his grieving train of thought, and Kaiser stared at him, almost on the verge of a breakdown. “Do I tell you a secreeeet? But you have to promse me you won’t tell!”
He knew he shouldn’t entertain the pain much longer, but apparently, Michael Kaiser was a fucking masochist when it was about Isagi Yoichi, and already imagining what kind of things he could say, he was ready to brace himself to take the fatal blow that would kill him on the inside.
“What is it?” He asked, slow and carefully.
“Promise meeeee!” Yoichi shrieked.
“Okay, fine! I promise!” He said way too quickly. Yoichi just giggled so adorably, and Kaiser feared that would be the last time he would see him this carefree ever again. “What is it?”
Yoichi didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. He just stared at him, his breath slow and heavy, and Kaiser wondered if perhaps he was already falling asleep, when—
“I found it.”
Something in his declaration didn’t fit what he just announced moments ago about not being his boyfriend anymore. That didn’t explain anything. What did that have to do with anything!?
Confused as fuck, Kaiser finally asked. “Found what?”
The smirk on Yoichi’s face widened. “The box.”
What was he talking about? “Yoichi—”
“I was pttngway the laundry when I found it—the box—the ring box? Micha thinks he hid it well, but he didn’t.” A different kind of dread overcame all the grief crawling under his skin to replace it with something warmer, hopeful, and deeply embarrassing.
Kaiser flinched as if Yoichi radiated heat, suddenly feeling called out.
“Isn’t my Micha way tooooo cuteeeee~?” Yoichi slurred his words, but Kaiser had no trouble following them anymore, now hyperaware of what he was talking about. “My Micha is gonna propose!”
He thought he’d been sneaky. Hiding them on the bottom of a drawer, waiting for the most adequate moment to pop the question. He’d been keeping them for two months already, but he didn’t seem to find the right moment—he thought, at first, that he could ask after they won the Champions, but then they got out of it, and the chance to ask was gone. Now, they were waiting for the right moment to set the right conditions so he could ask him for a lifetime of this life they shared. Because he wanted to keep this for as long as Yoichi allowed him.
Still taken aback by the sudden change in the room, Yoichi smiled gently at him, but he still didn’t seem to recognize him. “But shhhhhhssss—hic, hic.” His boyfriend asked, putting an index finger over his lips to gesticulate the sound, dragging it until it lost strength. “It’s a secret, ’mkay?”
“Okay.”
Michael Kaiser lost all his anger, all his tiredness, and let the stupor of being discovered by his boyfriend consume everything. Because that was the only thing left for him to do: to bask in the reality that his secret had been discovered by the only person that shouldn’t see it coming, and now it was impossible to undo it.
“I can’t wait for Micha to pop the qstion.” Yoichi declared, rubbing his face against the silk sheets of the bed, smiling happily. “Gosh, my parnts luv him. But I luv him the most! I luv him soooooo much, I don’t wanna ruin this for him.”
Stupid Yoichi and his stupid heartfelt sincerity. Now, Kaiser felt his mind going mushy and his eyes prickling with liquid emotion, and he pulled away from the bed before glancing at his boyfriend one last time, the glimpse of a smile finally appearing on his lips.
“I’m sure he loves you, too.” He said, but his voice was strained and faltering, despite Yoichi failing to notice.
“I know right? Gosh, he’s so lucky to haf meeee.” Yoichi mumbled, his voice finally worn out and tired, and Kaiser returned to the bed for a brief moment to brush his bangs gently.
“Yes, he is.”
“Mmmm—so you better leaf. You're nice and everthin’ but you're not my Micha.” Yoichi shooed him away, and Kaiser huffed resignedly; the anger, the dread, and all the negative emotions finally evaporated from his system, when his boyfriend finally cuddled on his side of the bed, and he began snoring a few moments later.
The drawer was still within his sight when he confirmed Yoichi was already sleeping. Now, Kaiser felt like as if a fucking truck had ran over him, but it didn’t matter anymore. Because against his better judgment, Isagi Yoichi had just told him everything he needed to stop looking for the right moment to propose.
It was now or never.
So he went straight for his hidden spot and retrieved the box from his drawer, finally showing the couple wedding rings hanging on it, waiting to be exchanged under love oaths and sealing their commitment to each other.
Kaiser took the one that belonged to Yoichi, and he walked to the bed again, taking his boyfriend’s hand and sliding the ring on his finger, gauging his weight and noticing the fit was perfect and the metal band shone under the soft light in the bedroom, granting Yoichi another look. More soft, more whole. More his.
“So I’ll take this as a yes.” He said with a smirk on his lips before kissing his temples and finally letting him go deep into slumber and sleep.
The morning light filtered through the curtains of the bedroom, and Isagi Yoichi finally stirred awake. He didn’t remember much of the prior night, only that he was partying with everyone from Blue Lock, and Hiori offered him some green liquid—absinthe, he said before melting a sugar cube over it and drinking it.
It was so fucking good.
But now, he couldn’t remember how he got back home, and his head was hammering so hard, and he wanted to die.
Isagi yawned, trying to wear off the effects of sleepiness to get up and go look for some aspirins, when he felt something heavy weighing on his left hand. When he finally opened his eyes to see what it was, he noticed the glimmer of the metal band resting on his ring finger.
A ring.
A ring he recognized all too well.
It was supposed to be in a little, velvety, blue box, hidden inside Mihya’s drawer. What was it doing on his fing—?
No way.
No fucking way.
Could it be possible!? Did he get so drunk last night he just missed everything!? It couldn’t be. There had to be a mistake!
A rush of possibilities crossed on his mind as he finally got up from bed, his head drumming furiously, but Isagi ignored it and endured the discomfort to finally put some clothes on him and go into searching for his boyfriend, whom he found in the kitchen bar, sipping coffee while watching his phone—a video, for the sounds coming from the speaker while he walked straight to the kitchen.
“Mihya!” He called.
“Two actual shots of absinthe and the rest of the drinks were, in fact… water.” Michael said absentmindedly, watching his phone intently. “I guess I can’t be that mad with them and kick them off the guest list, huh? At least Hiori had the balls to stand out and do the explaining shit.” He mumbled before turning to see him with a grin. “Good morning, you shitty Yoichi. How are you feeling?” Michael greeted him with an infuriatingly dashing smile, handing him the blister with aspirins and a glass of water.
“Like shit.” Isagi announced while reaching for the kitchen counter, and taking two aspirins with water. “But that aside—” He got straight to the matter at hand. “Care to explain what the fuck?”
“What are you talking about?” Michael wondered, confused, before taking another gulp of coffee.
“What is this?” He demanded, raising his left hand and showing it to him.
“Your hand.” Michael replied, his voice rounded in the tone of overexplanation, and Isagi felt the thump of pain in his temples from the hangover.
“Listen, you little shit—”
“Ah!” Kaiser made a startled sound, and Isagi glared at him in confusion. Then he noticed the self-sufficient smirk, before the blond frowned upon him, his lips pursed with confusion. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember?”
“Remember what?” He asked, already dreading his next words.
“I proposed to you last night. And you said yes.” Isagi’s face was a picture, and he stared at him, speechless. “Oh, you’re gonna break my heart, mein schatz—” Michael sighed dramatically, before taking another sip of his coffee, all so nonchalantly, Isagi felt on the verge of a meltdown.
“Do it again.” He finally said.
“Fuck no.” But Michael refused.
“You’re taking my moment from me!” Isagi finally snapped at him.
“I didn't take anything from you; I remember it all too well! You were all smiles and tears when I knelt down and asked you the question.” The blond announced with so much emotion; for a moment Isagi almost believed him. Almost.
Because he knew that wasn’t his boyfriend’s style of doing things, so there had to be a mistake somewhere.
But that wasn’t the matter at hand. The thing was—Michael Kaiser had proposed while he was inconvenienced, and he couldn’t remember shit.
“I can’t remember!” Isagi whined, clearly stressed. Michael looked him straight in the eye.
“That sounds like a you problem. So, congratulations, my fiancé.” The grin on his lips was everything he needed to confirm he was just performing and that there was a catch to his story. Although that wasn’t the matter at hand right there.
“You took my proposal away from me.” Isagi accused him, frowning at him.
Michael just grinned. “So, are you taking the ring off?” He asked, stretching his hand wide open towards him. “Give it back, then.”
Isagi took the band with his fingers, and considered returning it for the briefest of moments. He’d been waiting for him to propose for almost two months already. How long would Michael Kaiser make him wait if he returned the ring when he had already proposed?
After careful consideration, Isagi readjusted his ring around his finger, scowling at his now fiancé—gods, he had a fiancé!
“You're a fucking bastard.” Isagi hissed, clearly upset by the sudden turn of events.
Mihya just smirked, proud. “You love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately.” Isagi deadpanned, rolling his eyes and taking a seat in front of his fiancé on the kitchen bar, just in time for the blond to get him a cup of bitter coffee to appease the discomfort of the hangover.
Still, he felt happy. He was gonna get married. He was gonna get married! And with Michael Kaiser, on top of that! Gods, despite feeling like shit physically, he couldn't help but feel so giddy and enamorated by that stupid idiot, and he finally let his mind wander, already thinking of choosing the perfect date, the venue, the guests, the food, the cake—
“So, wanna invite your friends over to celebrate?” Michael asked, and when Isagi raised his face to see him, he found his fiancé smirking.
He knew something, and he was deliberately dodging telling him, probably to embarrass him later. Or maybe this was his revenge for something he did? Just what the fuck did he do last night for Mihya to keep being a little shit this morning?
On a second thought—celebrating their engagement with friends didn't sound too appealing, now. Because... what if they convince him to drink again and he forgets something else? At this rate, Isagi dreaded he could wake up the following morning already married, and he wouldn't miss his wedding for a night of drinks.
“Pass.” He mumbled to his coffee while taking a sip.
Months later.
Isagi Yoichi was glowing.
Every single guest in the venue knew the couple personally. There were a lot of people, mostly soccer players; friends of the couple—friends of Isagi—were there. Happy, celebrating with everyone that Michael Kaiser and Isagi Yoichi had finally tied the knot. After years of rivalry, fighting, and a bunch of tournaments—as enemies, as rivals, as lovers. Now they were there, on the pinnacle of their love, sharing it with everyone.
And if Isagi was glowing, the other groom, Michael Kaiser, was like a peacock, showing his grandeur as he walked around the tables, following his now husband, who happily greeted every single guest, hugging everyone, smiling—always smiling—brightly, happy, and profoundly in love.
The toasts began. Ness made Isagi tear up, not because they were friends now, but because he was Kaiser’s best friend. Because Isagi could tell how much Kaiser meant to that stupid magician, and he could never blame him for loving his husband like he did. Because despite all their differences, they both worked on a compromise—for the sake of Michael. And it worked.
Then he regretted letting Hiori take the stand and made another toast—because Hiori would always speak about how Yukimiya, Raichi and him, moved heaven and earth to make them possible, no matter if they weren’t on the same team anymore, they would always root for them as a couple—even when they were seconds away from ripping each other throats in the middle of a match.
And finally—
Michael stood from his chair, and everyone in the venue turned to see the groom, waiting patiently until he deemed it was his moment to dedicate a couple of words in gratitude for every attendee but, on top of it all, to his brand-new husband, seated next to him.
He scanned the place, feeling the absolute attention of everyone on him. Ness was still crying on his table; his mother-in-law was drying her tears away with a napkin; there were two or three ex-Blue Lockers already sniffing too. And finally, his eyes landed on Yoichi, next to him, his eyes glistening in emotion, but still in check.
“It seems there are people here thinking they played matchmaking for us to get together, huh?” Everyone in the venue laughed lightly, but he saw Hiori raising his glass, clearly called out by his words. “This is not thanks to you—but in a way, danke, you sadist.” He raised his glass. “Because, you see, it took us—it took me—a while to get here. For the longest time, I thought I had to earn everything I got.”
Everyone was still silent, waiting for him to continue. Kaiser turned to see his Yoichi, and he was still waiting, that stupid smile he loved so much still adorning his lips, and he smiled.
“... until Yoichi came and made everything effortlessly easy. Unbearably easy.” He almost scowled as he spoke. “He was a pain in the ass since day one, and that alone was enough for me to see—he’s a fucking monster; we already know that.”
There was a soft murmur around the venue, the consensus clearly agreeing with the groom.
“So I couldn’t stay behind. He would never let me live if I did.”
God, he felt a knot in his throat; he had trouble swallowing, because now he felt the urge to cry coming to his body, and he would not break under the sight of two hundred people.
“Fuck—I don’t know how to say this shit without feeling ridiculous.” And he turned to see his husband once more, and he could tell he was already crying, but Kaiser would not cry. Not in front of the guests. “But I guess—you made it so easy to choose to stay. Now I only have to make sure to keep up with you.”
Everyone in the venue was already moved by his small but heartfelt words; he could hear the soft sniffs here and there, and Kaiser felt particularly vulnerable. Enough for the night, enough for the guests to witness. He could do that later, on their wedding night, on their honeymoon. Not here. Not in front of all these people that knew firsthand how ruthless he usually was.
“Though, to be fair, Yoichi never had much trouble choosing me either.” He smirked at his husband, and the soft smile on Yoichi's face disappeared instantly. That's when Kaiser returned to the guests, his lips curled in a smug smile, and continued. “In fact, perhaps it was my proposal that made things the easiest for him!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—” Yoichi groaned next to him, but Kaiser finally felt he could breathe, and he continued, ignoring him.
“I remember how I was prepared for that moment to happen. The dinner, the candles, the flowers—”
As Kaiser continued his groom’s speech, in one of the closest tables to the couple's, some former members of Blue Lock began to discuss the story.
“Flowers? I thought he said they were in the living room and Isagi was holding their potted fern for dear life.” Nagi wondered, heavily confused by Kaiser’s explanation. Reo, by his side, nodded, as confused as to why Kaiser would tell a different story to keep the guests entertained.
“What? I remember he said Isagi was still puking in the toilet while he popped the question.” Chigiri sighed tiredly, looking back at the couple's table, where he could still see Kaiser telling the story, making the rest of the attendants laugh, while Isagi changed color at least six different times.
“The fuck? He told me they were having sex in the bathtub before he finally proposed.” Otoya dangled his chair to lean closer to their table, already whispering the version he heard of the proposal.
“Isagi-kun was wasted. Didn't that version strike you as weird?” Hiori side-eyed Otoya, but he just shrugged.
“I thought it was hot.”
“I remember the flowers, though! Kaiser said Isagi tried to jump from the balcony because he thought he was lying! Tee hee hee!” Bachira giggled when the ruckus from the main table took them out of their debate.
“Over dinner? Stop being an idiot and tell the whole truth already!” Isagi was already on the verge of snapping, when Kaiser turned to see him, smiling nonchalantly, unbearably handsome and disgusting.
“But Yoichi—this is the truth already!”
“The last time you said it was in the kitchen!” Isagi complained, his irritation appearing in his tone.
“And you were weeping the whole time!” Kaiser insisted, absolutely convinced of his act.
“That wasn't what you said last time!”
“You were so fucking wasted! How could you know?”
Every guest in the venue began to laugh, but Michael kept his majestic stance, worthy of an emperor, and Isagi flushed red, feeling deeply ashamed by his ridiculous display.
But the moment Mihya turned to see him for the glimpse of a second, Isagi saw him mirroring his glow in those sky-blue eyes. There was absolute joy in there. No matter how long or how many hardships they had to endure to get there—Michael Kaiser had chosen him, and he was just being himself. Isagi could now see it beneath the arrogant smile…
… and couldn't help but love him.
“... and of course, immediately after saying yes, he threw up on my shoes.”
“Michael!”
That was it. Isagi was barely a couple of hours married, and he was done. It was time to file for divorce, or he would become a widower before they even had their honeymoon.