The wind picks up just a little, and it sets the still garden into motion. The dip and sway of the lilac blossoms is mesmerizing. It’s as if he and Victor are the center of their own little world of pretty color and soothing perfume.
“This is nice,” Yuuri says, trying to voice the contentment in his chest.
“It is. It’s putting choreography in my head,” Victor says, moving his hand through the air for a moment to mimic the soft breeze moving through the garden, “A little exhibition piece for you, maybe. Simple. No big jumps, no quads. Just you and the flowers.”
“No quads?” Yuuri repeats, skeptical. Victor flicks his hip where Yuuri’s shirt has ridden up a bit.
“Don’t tease,” he murmurs, breath warm against Yuuri’s temple, “Let me write you something soft. Our routines are always so dramatic . It makes my knees hurt just thinking about it."
Yuuri laughs softly. “Okay,” he agrees, “Choreograph me a garden, then. Just like this.”
Victor sighs happily. “It’ll be lovely. Just like my husband.”
Yuuri hides his blush against Victor’s jacket, a current of warmth flowing between them.
Vkusno! by mtothedestiel. 21266 words (complete), rated E.
Where do I even start? The food metaphors for love that made me squeal like a dying whale? The way I was absolutely slain by the shade thrown at poorly done fusion food? The beautiful descriptions of food? The little details that speak to years of Victor and Yuuri skating and living together? This is the post series top chef fic I never knew I wanted or needed - and it is absolutely delectable from start to finish.
