Author's Note: This was originally a one-shot that turned into a multi-chapter fic. The first chapter is shorter and lighter in tone. Later chapters have heavier themes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Spy x Family. I just like to write fluff and angst about the characters.
Chapter One: First Contact
They had two rules: if either one said "Stop" or "Not there", then it was respected. The second rule was called No Explanation Needed. They knew that each scar told a story and either could ask, but neither was obligated to give an explanation.
Loid thought it best if he let Yor explore him first. Yor started with his fingertips, turning his palm over and inspecting them through touch. Though her eyesight was decent, she knew her touch was much keener and could pick up on things her eyes would miss. She glided her fingertips over his, sliding down the length of his fingers, then curving around to his wrist and up his arm. Yor's instincts were right. Her eyes missed so many details, but her touch detected the subtle ridges and indents immediately. Granted, she had never looked that closely before. She never thought she had a reason to do so.
"Where's this from?" she asked, stopping at a semi-circle of dotted scars on his left forearm.
"Dog bite. Long story."
Yor gasped. "Not from Bond!"
Loid shook his head. "It was from before I met Bond." Though not long before, he thought.
When it was Loid's turn, he hesitated, not sure if a touch somewhere sensitive might set off alarm bells in her head and cause her to swing at him. This time did have one distinct difference, however: Yor wasn't drunk. He had made sure that she was completely sober and as relaxed as possible for this mutual exploration.
Sensing his hesitation, Yor held out her right arm and splayed her fingers. "This one is from my cooking lessons with Camilla. You can start there."
Loid squinted, unable to see if she was pointing to a scar. Then, without thinking, he took her fingers into his hand and instantly found it. A burn scar, thin and flat, almost translucent. He turned her hand over, his eyes scanning for other scars before moving onto her other hand. It wasn't until he had inspected both arms that he realized Yor did not flinch away from his touch or show any signs of distress. He blinked at her in surprise. For what it was worth, she looked equally surprised, her crimson irises widened like he had never seen before.
"Is everything...okay?" he asked hesitantly.
Yor nodded, then pulled down her sleeve when he released her hand. She lowered her head, her expression troubled.
"Hey," he said, scooting closer to her. "What is it?"
To Loid's surprise, she took his left arm and hugged it to her, her fingers curling gingerly over the dog bite scar. "I scared off a dog once when it threatened me and Anya." She looked up at Loid, face full of concern and regret. "I wish I could have been there for you, too."
Yor paused as something dawned on her. "Did the dog hurt you anywhere else?" she asked, her eyes darting all over him, looking for undetected scarring.
"No, no," Loid said quickly. "It was a misunderstanding. It wasn't the dog's fault. He didn't hurt me that badly."
"Oh. Good," Yor said, relieved.
Loid took Yor's hand, turning it over and running his thumb over the burn scar. "And I wish I could have been there for you. It means a lot to me and Anya that you were learning how to cook for us."
"It was the least I could do as a wife and mother."
Loid shook his head. "Not every wife or mother needs to know how to cook. But the fact that you took that on shows how much you care for us." His eyes narrowed. "Even if you had to learn from Camilla."
"Camilla was a great teacher."
"Really?"
"Yes! I never would have gotten as far as I did without her! Dominic and Yuri helped, too, of course."
"That's...great!" Loid said, keeping his eyes on the back of her hand as he wrestled to control the strained emotion in his voice.
"Loid."
"Hmm?"
"Do you...do you wish I had learned from you?"
"What?"
"Do you wish I had asked you to teach me instead?"
"N-no. I mean, not necessarily. You're free to do as you wish. I knew you wanted it to be a surprise."
A touch on his face made him look up suddenly. He was taken aback to see Yor running her knuckles against the ridge of his cheekbone. "I didn't want to burden you," she said quietly, apologetically. "You already do so much for this family and asking yet one more thing from you...it was too much, especially for a fake marriage."
"Yor," Loid said firmly. "Fake marriage or not, you went above and beyond. I know how comments about your cooking cut deep, but you were willing to face something that probably scared you and did it for the sake of others. I can ask for no greater contribution than that."
Yor stared at him in wonder. Loid had expressed this same sentiment during the dinner party. He really did appreciate all she did.
"You're the one with all the sacrifices," Yor told him. "Look at all you do for us. And with us. Even when you're worn out. You're only human, you know, and sometimes, I worry that you're spreading yourself too thin. It's okay to slow down. It's okay to...to take time for yourself."
Loid chuckled. "You're the one taking secret cooking lessons after a whole day of work."
"And you're the one taking the family on outings even after an exhausting week of work. Your job is demanding enough. Please take care of yourself more."
Loid held up Yor's arm and spread her fingers so the burn scar glimmered in the low light. "I could say the same for you."
They stared each other down, then laughed suddenly.
"Maybe we both need to take care of ourselves better," Yor finally admitted.
"Why don't we help each other with that?"
"Oh?"
"Well, why not? If we're both overworking ourselves, then we should have the other step in to slow us down or remind us to take care of ourselves."
"We are married after all. This...this is what married couples do?"
Loid nodded. "Exactly."
"For our marriage then," Yor said cheerily.
Loid nodded again, a little slower this time. A certain light flickered in his eyes, the expression there layered and unreadable. "Yes...our marriage. That."