The scent of freshly prepared food wafted through the barracks as General Ryousuke arrived with a neatly packed meal in hand. The usual routine was simple—he'd walk straight to the mess hall, grab a plate, and eat among his men. But today, something was different. Instead of joining them, he carried a lacquered lunch box with an air of quiet satisfaction.
The soldiers, already seated and eating, exchanged glances. Some paused mid-bite, watching as Ryousuke took a seat at his usual spot but didn't reach for the communal food.
His second-in-command, Kenji, nudged the man next to him before clearing his throat. "Uh, General… what's with the fancy lunchbox?"
Ryousuke, unbothered, set it down on the table and slowly untied the cloth wrapping. "My wife made it," he said simply.
A few soldiers nearly choked on their food. Others muttered amongst themselves, throwing curious glances his way.
"Wait—you're telling me Lord Nori cooked?" one of the younger recruits whispered, disbelief written all over his face.
Kenji leaned in, peering at the box as Ryousuke opened it. "No offense, General, but… does he even know how to cook?"
Ryousuke shot him a sharp look, causing Kenji to straighten up instantly. "He does now."
Inside the box, perfectly arranged dishes gleamed under the light—steamed rice sprinkled with sesame seeds, grilled fish with a caramelized glaze, sautéed greens, and a small side of pickled vegetables. Everything looked meticulously prepared.
The soldiers, used to Ryousuke's sharp commands and ruthless battle strategy, found it difficult to process the sight of him eating a meal made with such care.
"General… you're really eating a home-cooked meal in front of us?" Another soldier groaned dramatically. "While we're stuck with this slop?" He motioned toward the plain rice and stew on their trays.
Ryousuke, lifting a bite of fish to his lips, gave them an amused glance. "What, jealous?"
Kenji exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "It's just strange, sir. You always eat with us. Feels like… betrayal."
A few soldiers nodded in exaggerated agreement. "Yeah! Abandoning the brotherhood for a packed lunch? Who are you?"
Ryousuke let out a low chuckle. "Eat your food and stop whining."
The men continued to grumble, but they couldn't deny that seeing their fearsome general being cared for in such a domestic way was oddly endearing. Someone muttered, "So that's what being a married man does to you, huh?" earning a round of laughter.
Ryousuke ignored them, finishing his meal in peace. But when he stood to leave, Kenji called out, "General!"
He turned, raising an eyebrow.
Kenji smirked. "Tell Lord Nori his cooking has the whole barracks talking."
Ryousuke huffed but didn't deny it. As he walked away, the whispers continued behind him, but instead of the usual talk of war and training, today's gossip was all about how their fearsome general had officially been domesticated.
That evening, Nori prepared dinner with just as much care as he had the lunch. Though the kitchen staff offered to assist, he insisted on doing it himself. By the time the meal was ready, the dining room was filled with the rich aroma of braised beef, steamed vegetables, and soft, fragrant rice.
Ryousuke sat at the table, watching as Nori carefully set the dishes in front of him. His sharp eyes softened as he took in the sight—his delicate yet determined wife, making sure everything was perfect before sitting down to eat.
"You're really getting the hang of this," Ryousuke remarked as he picked up his chopsticks.
Nori, sitting across from him, straightened his back. "I learn fast," he said, trying to sound composed.
Ryousuke chuckled and took a bite. "That, you do."
Dinner passed with easy conversation, mostly Ryousuke talking about his day while Nori listened attentively. Though he was still adjusting to the household responsibilities, he found that he liked these quiet moments.
After they finished eating, Ryousuke stood and walked over to him. "Come," he said simply, gesturing toward their room.
Nori raised a brow. "Why?"
Instead of answering, Ryousuke took his hand and led him inside. Once they reached the bed, he gently pushed Nori to sit. Before he could protest, Ryousuke knelt down and lifted his foot onto his thigh.
"What are you doing?" Nori asked, slightly startled.
"Massaging your legs," Ryousuke answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His strong hands pressed into Nori's calves, kneading the muscles with practiced ease. "You were on your feet all day. They must hurt."
Nori's ears burned. He fidgeted slightly but didn't pull away. "There's no need for that. I'm fine."
Ryousuke smirked. "Don't feel shy. Let me do it." His hands moved up, rubbing slow circles into Nori's sore muscles. "What if you get pregnant? How will I allow my precious wife to suffer?"
Nori froze. His face turned bright red.
"I—I'm a man," he sputtered. "I can't be with child."
Ryousuke let out a low chuckle, eyes filled with amusement. "Doesn't matter. You're still my wife." His voice dropped to a teasing murmur. "And if you could carry my child, wouldn't that be nice?"
Nori turned even redder. "S-Stop saying nonsense!"
Ryousuke only laughed, pressing a kiss to Nori's knee before continuing the massage. "Alright, alright. Just sit still and enjoy it."
Despite his embarrassment, Nori didn't protest again. And though his face remained flushed, he allowed himself to relax under Ryousuke's careful touch.
As they settled into bed, Nori turned onto his side, trying to ignore the warmth of Ryousuke's body beside him. He had cooked two full meals today, taken care of household matters, and endured more than enough teasing from his husband. All he wanted now was sleep.
But just as he was beginning to drift off, he felt it—a warm, calloused hand sliding over his waist.
Nori's eyes snapped open. He stiffened, hoping Ryousuke would stop if he pretended to be asleep.
He did not.
The hand continued its slow exploration, tracing the curve of his hip before slipping under the fabric of his robe. Nori twitched. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice hushed in the quiet room.
Ryousuke's lips brushed against the back of his neck. "Nothing."
"That's not 'nothing.'" Nori reached down, gripping Ryousuke's wrist in an attempt to stop him.
His husband chuckled, completely unfazed. "I'm just holding my wife. Is that a crime?"
Nori's face burned. "It is when your hand keeps roaming."
Ryousuke hummed, his fingers lazily stroking circles against Nori's skin. "Then what should I do?" he mused. "Keep it still?"
"Yes," Nori said firmly.
To his surprise, Ryousuke actually obeyed—sort of. His hand remained on Nori's waist, no longer wandering, but his grip tightened just enough to pull him closer. Nori let out a small huff as his back met Ryousuke's broad chest.
"Good night, my wife," Ryousuke murmured against his ear.
Nori groaned, burying his face into the pillow. "…Good night."
He wasn't sure how he'd manage to sleep like this, but he supposed he'd have to find a way.