#or laughs

Catelyn took a step backwards. “Brienne.”

“No, that wasn’t it.”

so, seeing as yuuri’s mind is a little busy processing and translating, he doesn’t yet realize what he’s saying as he reads the seemingly random label in the supermarket, which, honestly? not his fault. but he reads it anyway. out loud. much to victor’s shock and rapidly growing amusement.

“vanilla pleasure,” yuuri says, in russian, because that’s where his lizard brain is at and he doesn’t even know what the words he’s reading mean until he takes a second to think.

and sure, he can see the little cupcakes on the shower gel bottle that he’s eyeing and he knows that vanilla is just an ingredient -- a scent, yes, -- and pleasure is a natural thing to pair a comforting, warm thing like vanilla with, but...

the moment yuuri’s eyes catch victor’s he knows his mistake, because victor’s eyes are sparkling with mirth and he’s trying oh so very hard not to grin, but a corner of his mouth is already twitching and yuuri knows what’s coming even before it comes.

so he does the next best thing: he pointedly ignores victor, tries not to blush and moves his gaze to the next label and reads that, too.

“milky cream,” he says, and as soon as that’s done, he wants to die.

victor laughs out loud this time. “that’s creative.”

“who even names these?” yuuri groans. his cheeks are flushed despite his efforts to keep it together, but with victor looking like victor and looking at yuuri with that special bright light in his eyes... it’s a wasted effort. “there are kids around, why would they use such suggestive names?”

“I’m sure they didn’t mean it that way,” victor reassures him. “but it is a little funny, you have to admit. and...” he leans close to yuuri’s ear to whisper right into it: “it is a little curious that you thought of the other meaning first.”

“wha-- I didn’t!” yuuri quickly objects. “you did!”

“but I didn’t say anything, did I? it was all you.”

victor grins, all playful and happy in a way that makes it rather hard to be mad at him.

“you said it with your eyes,” yuuri insists.

“really?” victor’s grin widens. “did my eyes say anything else?”

blushing seems like a good place to start on his road to self-destruction, so yuuri doesn’t entirely fight the heat of his cheeks. he doesn’t fight the teasing words that sit on the tip of his tongue, either.

“yes, they did, actually,” he says. “you wanted to make this a competition and find an even dumber label. and if you can’t, you promised to wash the dishes for the rest of the week.”

victor’s laughter is always a pleasant sound to yuuri’s ears, but when it’s this goofy? it’s delightful. it’s feels like a warm blanket has been thrown around yuuri’s shoulders and a mug of comforting hot chocolate thrust into his hands while loving arms wrap around him and hold him close to his beloved’s heart.

victor’s smiling lips which press to yuuri’s cheeks feel just like that, too.

“you can read me so well, my yuuri,” victor replies, eyes twinkling. “and you’re on. give me a second and I’ll find you something better, so you better get the new dish sponge. you’re going to need it!”

yuuri doesn’t follow him when victor disappears between the aisles, but he is competitive enough to follow the advice, and throws in a new dish sponge into their basket. for victor’s future use, because yuuri is sure there could be nothing dumber than the shower bottles that keep following him with their innuendo labels.

it doesn’t take long for victor to triumphantly return to yuuri’s side, carrying a bottle in each hand. he presents to them proudly and yuuri reads the labels of what seems to be... milk?

“wanna banana,” he reads, unable to keep his lips from twitching in amusement, and then reads the other: “nutty paradise.”

“both appropriately suggestive,” victor adds.

yuuri hums. “I don’t know. mine seem better.”

“I will admit milky cream might be, but come on,” victor shakes one of the bottles in his hand with a grin, “wanna a taste of my banana?”

the sound yuuri makes is something between a snort, a groan and full on laughter, which goes up his nose and makes him cough. even still, he doesn’t stop laughing, because this is just too silly and the fact that it’s victor nikiforov who said it only adds to his mirth.

“fine, okay, you win,” yuuri gives at last, wiping his eyes from the tears of laughter. “I’ll wash the dishes for a week.”

“oh no, I’ll wash the dishes! don’t worry about that, my love,” victor interrupts with a big, big smile.

but yuuri knows him better than that, so he squints and he asks: “what do you want then? you won.”

and because victor knows him as well, he leans close and stops only when his nose is touching yuuri and their eyes both share that same light of love, joy, and temptation that comes from being next to each other like this.

“I want you to take me to your nutty paradise and give me all the vanilla pleasure you can,” victor whispers, voice low and alluring as only he can make it. “tonight.”

there is little yuuri can say to that, while his face burns and his heart aches and a shiver of odd curiosity runs down his spine, so instead of saying anything in words, yuuri kisses victor right on that sneaky mouth and leaves him there, in the aisle, all alone and frozen in surprise.

it’s only when he’s about to take the corner to the next one, does he turn around. he gives victor a cheeky smile and calls:

“you coming?”