fantastisk | ( the brewing love one )

( Yuri laughs so hard he has to double over, hands on his knees, lungs sore from the force of it all. eventually he manages to subside it to effervescent giggling, wiping his eyes before extending his hands to Victor in a reversal of earlier. )

Well done. Very dramatic. Is that what I should have been doing? ( he barely realises what he's doing as he moves to brush sand from Victor's clothes, still too busy laughing at him. ) The etiquette here is very different here than what I'm used to, then. Unless it's just a Russian thing.

( Yuri's seen enough weird Russian Vines that he'd just about believe anything at this point. )

( is there anything more enchanting and heartwarming than the sight of Yuri laughing until his eyes are watering up? Victor doesn't think so, grinning stupidly at Yuri and giving him both his hands with his camera resting against his chest, strap around his neck. )

Oh, I don't know. Sand sliding is a very complicated artform. One that often ends with getting sand in unfortunate places; definitely not a sport for the wise.

( Victor obligingly holds still as Yuri brushes sand off him, feeling delightful little frissons of awareness with each point of contact. he chuckles again, making no move to step away, barely even helping brush sand off his front. )

Less of a Russian thing. More of a graceful Vitya thing.

So that's it. ( Yuri grins up at him, full of mischief. ) Who's this Graceful Vitya and when do I get to meet him? Does he have a dog, too?

( clearly this is his first priority. smoothing some stubborn grit from Victor's hip Yuri pauses suddenly, the easiness of his teasing dropping immediately into self-conscious fluster with enough force that he gasos. )

Oh -- sorry, I wasn't even thinking --

( he backpedals, red with embarrassment at his high-handedness (literally), only to find Makkachin at the back of his knees. all of Yuri's chances at making a good impression fly off towards the horizon as he lets out an undignified squawk and ends up on his butt, a confused but pleased poodle taking full advantage to lick his face. Yuri groans and covers his burning cheeks with sandy hands. eventually he recovers enough to peek between his fingers at Victor's expression. )

Oops. I guess I kind of deserved that, didn't I?

( and Yuri laughs again, a little resigned but mostly just genuinely amused. of course he can't manage to play it cool around Victor. he has Yuri off-balance on a near daily basis; in all honesty Yuri wouldn't have it any other way. it makes life a little more exciting.

he carefully coaxes Makkachin off him and gets to his feet. )

Up, up, Makkachin! No, that's-- stop that. You can kiss me again later, I promise, but let's go play first.

( his retort is slowed down by the way his heart leaps into his throat when Yuri parrots back his nickname, realising his own mistake far too late to do anything about it. Victor feels his blush bloom across his cheeks, touching the back of his neck and the tips of his ears as his nose burns with it too. Vitya is too intimate, really, too much something he'd like to hear and knows he shouldn't be right now.

it's all that saves Yuri from immediate comebacks, Victor's own being flustered and caught off guard through his own glibness. by the time he's trying to form a response, laughing low in his throat, Yuri's realising what he's doing and is backing up. Victor reaches out on reflex, seeing Makkachin out of the corner of an eye, but Yuri's already upending and Makkachin thrusting herself between them, leaving Victor with his hands out and catching air. )

Ah-! ( he laughs because he has no other response, giving Yuri a helplessly amused look as Makkachin goes for the licking kill and Victor's left picking up his camera and snapping a few candids instead of helping his hoped for boyfriend up off the ground. ) Maybe. Maybe not. As for Graceful Vitya, ( please, don't say his name like that again; please, say it that way forever ) he'll be making a guest appearance at the farmer's market, sadly bereft of Makkachin. Service animals only.

( it's one of the few times Victor's almost jealous of Makkachin, when Yuri's reassuring her she can kiss him again later; but he shakes off the ridiculousness of the thought with a laugh, kicking off his shoes and leaving them near the dune while he jogs off toward the water. Makkachin races past, heading straight for the waves, Victor kneeling down and focusing his camera to try and capture her in her gleeful rejoicing in the cresting waves. )

No dogs? ( Yuri ruffles Makkachin's fur before she dashes off again, dusting himself down briskly. ) Graceful Vitya is off to a bad start, then. I think I like Goofy Victor better.

( at no point does it occur to Yuri that this is heavy flirting. not even when he gives Victor a return to his teasing look, lashes dipping down into what isn't quite a wink.

paddling barefoot through the shallows is singularly lovely. Yuri rolls his pants up his calves despite being already resigned to wet jeans, and gives chase as Makkachin cavorts along. unless Victor directs him otherwise Yuri will just have fun, splashing and kicking like a kid half his age. when a large and very damp poodle tackles him Yuri only sits in the lapping waves and laughs as hard as he had when Victor had slipped. )

Okay, okay, ( he wheezes, holding hands out to prevent Makkachin climbing on him like she seems to want to, ) I give up. You win. C'mon, let's go get Victor messy, too!

( at least Yuri will wait to flick water at him until the camera's safe. )

( he has to swallow again, and swallow down a whining objection that it's Goofy Vitya, only because a small, needy part of himself wants to hear Yuri say Vitya again and again. but it's insidious, and inappropriate, and he knows that, so he laughs, swallowing down his own worst impulses. patience, patience. it doesn't mean a thing in the world until Yuri knows what it might mean; until Victor extends an invitation that Yuri accepts knowingly.

wanting something doesn't make it true. it's somehow easier to shake off the jitters and the unexpected heat of his nickname on Yuri's lips when he can simply flirt right on back, uncomplicated. )

He'll have to make up for it with charm. In the meantime, Goofy Victor likes Goofy Yuri. Sounds like everyone's winning here.

( he winks in turn, heart thudding fast and happy in his chest, joining Yuri and Makkachin at the water; but he doesn't direct either one of them once he's there. man and dog are left to their own devices, Victor balancing the duality of his own gaze and the world seen through the lens of his camera to capture the candid shots of both Yuri and Makkachin. more and more he finds himself tracking Yuri through the lens, adjusting his focus, the aperture, playing with light and exposure time with a distracted, second nature air; lowering the camera so that he sees Yuri with only his own eyes. there's something wonderful in watching him have fun; in watching Makkachin and Yuri play for the sake of playing.

it fills his heart in a way he doesn't have words to describe. pictures, certainly: like the fields of sunflowers he's done a shoot in before, like the curling force of the waves crashing in against the shores of the Hawaiian islands in their dangerous beauty, like the soft light in the photographs he took of Makkachin sleeping on the porch of the lakeside mountain cabin Victor had been to five years ago. a contentedness, a happiness, a fullness; and the urge, strong and compelling, to catch Yuri up in his arms and press a kiss to his full lips, curled up into the smile of his laughter.

Victor does none of this, instead shaking himself out of a revelry he didn't know had caught him. laughing as Yuri laughs, calling out in not quite reprimand: )

Makka! Behave!

( not that his dog or Yuri seem interested in doing so, based on Yuri's exclamation. Victor takes a few steps higher, onto the soft sands where the water won't reach, pulling his camera off from around his neck. he balances his camera between his thighs, pulling his shirt off over his head and bundling his camera with a practiced ease, leaving the whole sitting neatly on the sand even as he turns around and is met with water flicked his way as he rejoins them in the surf.

all bets are off at that point, Makkachin a riot of movement and happy barking as she tears through the water and the sand and runs and runs like a much younger dog, tongue flying out of her mouth as she cuts back across, splashing them both as she goes. Victor sends water arcing across a retreating wave, grinning as he dances backward, water splashing up his calves. )

You'll have to try harder than that!

( comes the laughing challenge, Victor yelping and bolting down the beach when the challenge is met, laughing as he goes. )

( Yuri would really like to say something witty about Graceful Vitya starting a severe charm deficit if he's turning up dogless, but he's pretty stuck on the part where Victor mentioned the L-word. sure, it doesn't really count, but Yuri can feel his heart beating wildly all the same.

he needs to stop reading all those shoujo comics Yuko keeps recommending to him. they're starting to have an adverse affect on his perception of reality.

nothing gets any better as Victor jukes away from their so-called attack. Yuri takes the chance to smooth his hair back out of his eyes and attempt to dry off his glasses. he settles them back on his nose just in time to see Victor turn back, unnecessarily shirtless and statuesque in all his glorious perfection. an appropriately rom-com backing track plays loudly through Yuri's head as he stares with the shamelessness of shock before realising what he's doing and has to save himself by splashing Victor.

hopefully Victor didn't notice. oh, god, now every time Yuri shuts his eyes he's going to see Victor's naked chest. he can't even be mad about it, because it's beautiful and he wants to touch it to make sure it's real and--

--he gives chase, ducking down to slough a double handful of water across at him. the seawater glistening off Victor's pectorals really isn't helping Yuri's cause at all but at least this gives him something to do with his hands before they get him into serious trouble. )

I hope you bought towels, ( he pants, and squeals as Victor sluices him back, cold water soaking his shirt. ) I didn't think this was on the agenda!

( Victor pushes his bangs of his forehead, leaving his palm pressed against his face as he grins, flicking water drops from the fingers of his other hand. he's cooled down with the water, but the exercise keeps his blood pumping; keeps him warm. )

It's a pleasant surprise to me, too! I've got towels back in the car, though fair warning: they might smell a little liked Makkachin, even though they're clean. Hazard of dog ownership when carrying supplies in the car.

( a larger wave catches him by surprise, Victor dancing closer to Yuri and ducking behind him, hands briefly touching his shoulders. )

Wah! Big wave, big wave!

I can think of worse things to smell like than a poodle princess...

( thankfully Victor hasn't had a whiff of Yuri after one of the twice-annual Whole Cafe Total Spring Clean days. cleaning fat drains would make roses smell gagworthy.

more surprising than the wave is Victor, and Yuri freezes in place for a moment as he's used as a shield to virtually nothing. he'd happily bear the brunt of a tsunami right now if it meant protecting this strange reality where he's skipping along a beach with quite possibly the hottest man in existence who somehow, against all odds, seems to be enjoying Yuri's paltry company.

but he can't let Victor know that. it'll go to his head. )

Hmmm, ( Yuri props one hand on his hip, the other shading his eyes as he makes a show of scanning the horizon. both ways. just to be sure. ) A big wave, huh? Oh -- I think I see it. Quick, Victor, we'd better get to higher ground before it makes landfall in a decade or two.

Edited 2017-09-20 08:57 (UTC)

Yuri...

( Victor peers over Yuri's shoulder on the side where his hand rests on his hip, fingertips touching his shoulder light enough to steady Victor, but easy for Yuri to shrug off simply by dipping his shoulder down. it isn't the contact that matters so much in that moment. it's a way to direct attention. Victor's eyes seem to be sparkling with amusement, the warring impulses to tease or pout leaning toward a wide eyed teasing as he asks: )

Are you working on a minor in oceanography, or are you just precognisant?

( if Yuri were richer he'd seriously consider paying Victor just to say his name in that warmly-teasing tone on the daily. hourly, even, or more. it's almost as dangerous as his nearness, or the too-powerful fact of his shirtlessness. Yuri doesn't have to peek to know what Victor's bare chest must look like behind him.

he has to save himself before he does something acutely embarrassing like dissolve into a wash of gay foam on the water. the only plausible way to accomplish this without begging Victor to redress (which would be both sad and rude) is to duck down and swipe sea at him, smiling his fakest Customer Service smile. )

Oops, sorry, ( Yuri says completely unapologetically, ) I guess that wave arrived earlier than I thought.

( Victor gasps, having thrown his arms up in a fruitless measure to keep the seawater off him; failing horribly, but hardly seeming to mind, he tucks his chin in and gives Yuri very little warning. simply his name, as all bets have slipped off the table and he's giving Yuri a too sweet smile paired with a spark of heat in his eyes: )

Yuri...

( before he moves forward, not even bothering to splash Yuri in retaliation. Victor ducks down and scoops Yuri up in his arms with a grunt, heading out toward the breaking waves. )

I think you need to take a closer look!

( it seems entirely likely this will end in both of them falling down in the water and ending up entirely soaked. )

Edited 2017-09-21 03:58 (UTC)

( oh no. this is unexpected and uncomfortable: Yuri gasps and clutches very briefly at Victor's shoulders before batting at them urgently, utterly dismayed. )

No, no, no, no, no! Victor, put me down! ( there isn't any joking or fun in his tone, not room for argument. this is a demand laced with anxiety and upset. ) Now. Put me down.

( perhaps the greatest tragedy in all this is that Yuri can't even bring himself to appreciate being tucked so nicely against Victor's perfect naked chest. )

Edited 2017-09-21 04:33 (UTC)

( to Victor's credit, he responds immediately, even if the first feeling that strikes home is confusion, followed by the sharp edge of concern: that he's crossed a boundary, that Yuri is not okay, that? Victor doesn't know, but he complies, setting Yuri back down on his feet and holding his hands up, palms out, in a peace offering. )

I'm sorry, Yuri.

( he even takes a few steps away, because he doesn't know what specifically it is, but distance is usually what most people want when they sound upset. or closeness, but he's never been good at guessing which, and it doesn't matter: Victor's not panicked, just concerned. visibly concerned, and contrite on top of it. )

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...

( he makes a small gesture with his hands. cause this? )

( Yuri takes a deep breath, the water lapping at his legs a reassurance, gaze downcast until he's slightly more composed. )

It's okay, ( he says quietly and glances back up. Victor had obliged him without hesitating or asking for an explanation, which counts for a lot in Yuri's book even if he weren't predisposed to forgive him almost anything. ) I'm okay. Just...

( how does he explain this without sounding totally pathetic? he is pathetic, Yuri knows, but it'd be nice not to wear it on his sleeve so easily. sighing, he changes tack mid-sentence. )

Don't hurt yourself, that's all.

( the smile he gives Victor is lopsided and without sharp edges but still just as fake as anything more arch he's previously worn. Yuri fidgets and looks to his watch for a timely distraction before he can ruin the tone of the day any further. )

Oh...we've been out here longer than I thought. Maybe we should head back? ( his smile firms a little at the sides, still uncertain and self-conscious but more real. ) Unless you've changed your mind about dessert, of course.

( Victor blinks, managing not to blurt out his initial confusion; because Yuri is not svelte, but his first thought when he sees the other man has everything to do with attractive and very little to do with his weight. it only registers belatedly what Yuri might mean as he's halfway through speaking his truncated confusion: )

I won't?

( when it does register, he doesn't say anything at first, only breathes in and amiably splashes through the waters toward the higher part of the shore. )

I should show you what I cart around for a full on photoshoot sometime. You won't let me out of the house without a backbrace then.

( he winks, Makkachin choosing that moment to jump up on his side, sandy wet paws scraping against his hip with unthought affection. Victor catches her like that, laughing in startlement and ignoring the red welts that lift against his skin in response to her blunted nails scraping against skin. )

You're getting hosed off before we put you in the car, girl, yes you are.

( he wrinkles his nose a little as he brushes sand off himself, noting a few speckles of red in the welting across his hip, Makkachin back on the ground and barking as she wags her tail with less furiosity than earlier. she's wearing herself out, which is perfectly fine by Victor. )

Yuuri, are you teasing me with dessert? ( he threw a pouting look toward him over his shoulder, starting back toward his bundled camera and shoes. it's followed by an equally quick grin: ) If we really don't have the time, you could always feed me in the car.

( the point isn't his weight, of course, or Victor's lifting capabilities. Victor clearly keeps himself in good shape; Yuri has noticed. it isn't even that Yuri's particularly ashamed of his figure. in full and complex reality the issue is that Yuri keeps himself to himself, a privacy hoarded almost jealously against the invasiveness of the world, only handing out prices of his existence as fair trade for consideration and trust. as much as Yuri likes and admires Victor they've got a long way to go before he's comfortable with that level of casual intimacy, or with having this conversation.

he hunches his shoulders under the dampened fabric of his shirt and shrugs shortly instead, dismissing the whole thing, tugging at his hem until it settles a little less clinging. avoidance is one of Yuri's talents.

off-balance now he barely notices the reddening at Victor's hip and doesn't comment on it at all. Yuri slogs toward shore, feeling awkward and bumbling one as that have nothing to do with his physicality. only the thought that he'll have to see Victor at work after this keeps him from giving up completely, forcing him to make an effort to be a Real Human. ten minutes ago it had come naturally. why can't he be like that all the time?

well: Yuri knows why. )

If I'm feeding anyone in the car it'll be Makkachin, ( he sniffs. the easygoing teasing Yuri had managed before is slightly forced now, though his soft huff of amusement as Makkachin runs up to press her wet muzzle against his hand is genuine enough. ) Besides, what if I get crumbs all over your interior?

( Victor juggles his camera and shirt, considering for a moment the amount of sun he's getting like this and giving his own thoughts on what's probably comfortable for Yuri. he doesn't know the extent of any of it; can't, really, but he can take steps to make himself... less intrusive. he carefully unwraps his camera, setting it on his shoes with a whistle and hand motion for Makkachin to sit and stay: she does, quite happy to comply when she's at Yuri's side.

Victor's efficient in pulling his shirt on, tugging it properly down and collecting his camera with a smooth scooping movement that has it up and around his neck with one hand supporting it out of practiced habit. his shoes end up in the other hand; he calls out to Makkachin in Russian, again, setting her free. tosses back the explanation as he turns to face Yuri, walking himself backward: )

Vperyod! Forward, if we're literal, but I use it more like free. Makkachin is "free" to act as she likes afterward.

( in this case, it's to butt up against Yuri then trot toward Victor, licking in his general direction before heading purposefully for the dunes again. Victor shakes his head; half turning to follow. )

There is this very fascinating discovery that I have made, which makes me very happy, as a dog owner and also someone who tracks too much of the outdoors into my car with me. I will let you in on this secret... it is... ( he cups a hand around his mouth to stage whisper from a step ahead, pausing as he does: ) ... a car wash vacuum hose! ( back to normal volume: ) I'll be honest, I didn't know they existed until about two years ago, but it saves me from trying to figure out how to use my vacuum cleaner down in the garage!

I'm not even going to attempt that one, ( Yuri decides with mild horror. what does Russia have against vowels? are they rationed there or something?

(it could be worse, he supposes: Victor could be Welsh.)

at least it's easier to breathe now that Victor isn't being shamelessly, thoughtlessly sexy in his direction. Yuri tries not to be too disappointed. he even manages the barest slip of a genuine smile at Victor's hammy antics, absently smoothing salt and sand from where it's itching his neck. Victor isn't making a fuss over Yuri's peculiar idiosyncrasies, is adapting smoothly around them: Yuri is grateful for that, even if he isn't sure that he's quite ready to forgive him for the breach of personal space.

Victor is trying, and that makes Yuri feel less foolish for trying in turn. even such a small kind of confidence is unfamiliar and heartening. he squints thoughtfully up at the sky and tries to find a contribution to offer that's slightly more than just going through the motions; if Victor hasn't given up on his company yet, Yuri doesn't want to actively keep pushing him away.

after a moment's further consideration he suggests, ) You need a roomba or something. Do they make them yet where they can do vertical surfaces and stuff? Solar-powered, maybe? You could just strap it to the roof to charge it, then.

( it's ridiculous, and it's something in the nature of a gentle test, but Yuri lets some of his amusement peep through as he looks back to Victor. )

Maybe you could even program it to carry all that lighting equipment for you.

Edited 2017-09-26 03:35 (UTC)

Nu-uh.

( he says, lifting his arms and waving off the idea, mock horrified even as his hand returns to his camera and cradles it just off his chest again, shoes that had swung in his hands coming back down with his hand to dangle at his side as he walks. )

I've seen how the movies go. That roomba would be part of the robot revolution. Down with lighting! Portrait photography is overrated! Just take candids! Make them look natural!

( Victor laughs, turning back around to face forward. )

What about a mini-roomba for the car? One that could even fit under the seats?

And you think a mini one would be safer? ( Yuri shakes his head, clicking his tongue. ) If you're worried about the robot revolution don't go for the stealth model, obviously.

( this is Cyberpunk Dystopia Survival 101 stuff, Victor. get with the programme.

trekking back up the dunes isn't nearly as much fun as skidding down them had been but the one benefit of Yuri's soaked clothes is that they keep him cool. with a wry, self-conscious kind of amusement he recognises a new ache all along the backs of his legs, evidence of this unaccustomed type of exertion; it's been years since he's played at the beach like this. gulls call each other overhead. Yuri didn't realise how much he'd missed the sound.

he pauses at the top, looking back over his shoulder across the water like he can see past the distant horizon. somewhere there is Yuri's home, with its own sand and sea and doleful gulls, with its familiar faces and corners and comforts. Yuri looks toward it until the wind catches his hair. he shakes himself a little, turning to follow Makkachin's frolicking lead down the path they'd carved out of wildflowers earlier, giving Victor a quick and slightly bashful smile. homesickness isn't a frequent feeling any more; it can be morbidly interesting, finding what brings it out.

it makes him want to stick closer to Victor's company, but there's a distance there Yuri had proscribed himself. that he keeps it now is an attempt at self-preservation. )

Our timing was good, ( he notes. ) The wind's starting to pick up now.

Not safer. Definitely cuter.

( if he's going to be taken down in a robot revolution, at least let the robot involved be adorable? clearly that makes everything better. or else he finds Wall-E, which sounds also like a sweet solution.

he's been gone from St. Petersburg for what feels like over half a lifetime; his own nostalgia has simmered into moments like those down on the shore, or in deep winter, or in the taste of food from one of the few Russian cuisine restaurants he deemed acceptable. in a way, he's almost too disconnected. all the people he's fond of back in St. Petersburg only hear from him in calls and postcards of his photography; but he's never wondered if he should do more. still doesn't, as he walks up the dunes. even being so deeply fascinated by another human being is new when he's always been more shallow, enjoying good times and good company without wanting, needing for it to be more.

the wind rolls in as the tides to, carding through his hair, sending his tripod in the distance teetering. while he starts to return Yuri's quick, bashful smile, almost immediately he instead swears under his breath, shaking his head and laughing in turn when he calls out his apology: )

Something like that! One second, gotta run -- ( and in the next breath is racing ahead of a startled Makkachin, arms tucked close, shoes bouncing wildly at his side, camera held snug against his chest. Victor makes it back to the cooler and the tripod in time to catch it as the wind pulls on its carrying case, likewise dancing sideways and bending to snatch up a reflector zipped into its carrying satchel. he should be more worried about his supplies being here still when he wasn't watching them, but it hadn't been his first concern today.

Makkachin barrels along after him, enjoying this new game, but panting heavily once she catches up. he's ferreting out water to pour into her collapsible dish, encouraging her to drink her fill as he crouches on the ground, tripod folded and leaning against his thigh. )

Thirsty?

( he glances up at Yuri after he asks, clarifying that he's not asking his dog, once the other man catches up with the two of them and their own harebrained mad-cap rush through the flowers. Victor's still without shoes; there are green stains and something more colourful across his feet, just as evident as the dirt. )

Edited 2017-09-27 00:22 (UTC)

( that's a fair enough point that Yuri can't really help but concede, shrugging amiably. he's both amused and concerned at Victor's new turn of speed, hoping that his equipment doesn't take any damage but not hurrying himself. Victor doesn't need his help; Yuri will only seem foolish dashing over for nothing, and he can look quite foolish enough all by himself. he takes his time ambling along and Victor has everything well in hand when he arrives. )

Oh; yes, thanks. ( Yuri finds their glasses from earlier and lines them up for Victor to fill. ) Everything safe?

( he tips water into the glasses as Yuri holds them, shaking his head as he breathes out in a huff of amusement. )

Seems to be. Usually the tripod's sturdier than that. Still, if anything was going to take a fall, it's one of the sturdiest pieces of my equipment.

( the reflector in its zipper case doesn't really count. it would have been fine enough, as long as a field of thorns hadn't sprouted up spontaneously to tear everything apart. he lifts the bottle back up, capping it again when the glasses are comfortably full. before looking to take or accept one from Yuri, he puts the bottle back into the cooler, turning to the side and finishing putting his tripod away into its carry-case.

when he does take the water, he's shameless in how he gulps it down, eyes closing as he tips the glass backward and he focuses on the bliss of water over his tongue, quenching a much simpler kind of thirst. not stopping until it's all gone, he's further the epitome of grace when he wipes the back of his wrist across his mouth, his aah after downing the glass a blissful sort of sound. Makkachin wags her tail, bumping up against his leg, leaving a damp spot from the water clinging to the curls around her muzzle. )

Perfect. Ah, but Yuri — have I been good?

( it would have sounded more earnest if he didn't wink, tipping his glass toward Yuri when he asks his question. he's moving again, shoes sitting in a pile forgotten on the ground as he finishes packing away his camera. his phone is fished out of his camera case, Victor pausing before tucking it up under an arm, his pants a lost cause for being damp and his phone not certified as waterproof. )

( Victor's doing this on purpose, Yuri's sure of it. this is all expertly engineered to give Yuri highly inappropriate thoughts that wouldn't even occur to him otherwise. he barely manages to look away from the unwholesome lyrics captivating line of Victor's throat as he swallows, fanning his blush futilely and praying that Victor will blame the colour on the heat and exertion.

also, Yuri wants to outlaw that wink henceforth.

(he drinks his own water a little desperately.) )

Good? No, I really don't think you have been. ( at the very least it's exceptionally unfair of Victor to be so handsome and charming in Yuri's direction all the time. minus ten points. Yuri heaves a put-upon sigh and shuffles on his knees towards the cooler. ) But I probably shouldn't eat them all by myself, ( even though Yuri definitely could, and has before, ) and since I wasn't anticipating such bad behaviour from you they aren't Makkachin-safe, so I guess you get dessert by default.

( without further ceremony he reaches over to plant a strawberry hand-pie in Victor's palm, giving him a look that's too shyly soft at the edges to be properly exasperated. ) Lucky for you, huh?

( the brewing love one )

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