Work Text:
Pierre wakes to the light of the morning sun in his eyes.
He shuffles for a bit, instinctively reaching over to the opposite side of his king-sized bed, only to be met with emptiness. He feels around blindly before blinking once, twice, until his eyes have found the strength to stay slightly open. He frowns at the cold spot on his bed, wondering where his boyfriend had gone to so early in the morning.
He rolls over onto the empty spot and buries his face in the pillows. He takes a deep breath. ‘Smells like Yuki,’ Pierre thinks.
He hopes it will always smell like Yuki.
His chest warms at the thought.
The sheets are soft, comfortable, and oh-so inviting. Pierre checks the clock on his bedside table. It’s just a little past 8 in the morning. He closes his eyes and decides to try and get more sleep. He lays motionless for a few minutes before he feels the sleep start to take over him.
Just as he’s about to slip completely back into dreamland, he catches a whiff of breakfast. Bacon and eggs. And if the smell alone is not enough to wake him, the growl of his stomach certainly is.
He groans and lays there for a few more minutes before finally deciding to sit up. Sleep has completely abandoned him, and there was nothing more he could do. He rubbed his face with both hands and combed his fingers through his hair, a futile attempt at fixing it.
At least he knew where Yuki was.
Pierre makes his way to the kitchen, where he knew Yuki would be. He moves quietly, and stretches his arms as he walks. He rounds the corner and sees his boyfriend frying some eggs.
“Good morning, mon amour.” Pierre tries to say, before he is interrupted by a yawn mid-sentence.
“Good morning to you too, Pierre.” Yuki chuckles. “Breakfast is almost done. Just sit down for a while and I will bring it to you.”
Pierre obeys and takes a seat at the table. He rests his chin on his hand and watches as Yuki cooks their breakfast with confidence that only comes when it’s just the two of them.
He watches contentedly, and his eyes start to wander. He notices how Yuki is wearing his shirt, and how it exposes his collarbones due to their difference in size. He shakes his head as he realizes that Yuki had raided his closet again while he was asleep.
He chuckles and notices the way the sunlight hits Yuki’s face, how it highlights the sharpness of his cheekbones, the smoothness and roundness of his cheeks, and the slight dip of his cupid’s bow. He hopes he’s lucky enough to wake up to it every day.
The warmth in Pierre’s chest grows exponentially, threatening to burst into flames. It spreads outward, starting from his chest and ending in his stomach.
Yuki turns to him and frowns, smiling. “What are you smiling at me for?”
Pierre hasn’t even realized that he had been smiling to begin with. “You are beautiful, mon amour, have I told you that yet?” He says instead, smile growing wider, almost teasing.
“Weirdo.” Yuki says, rolling his eyes, yet he makes no effort to hide the light pink that spreads across his face. He turns back to the eggs in the pan, but his smile never falters.
Pierre stands and walks to Yuki, and hugs him from behind. He rests his cheek on his boyfriend’s head, smelling his hair.
Yuki starts to hum, and Pierre sways them from side to side, moving to the rhythm of Yuki’s song. The younger simply chuckles and sways along while continuing to cook their breakfast.
They stay like that for what seems to be hours, but is in reality merely a few minutes.
Pierre wishes it was forever.
Yuki turns the stove off, and transfers the bacon and eggs onto the matching plates they got at a garage sale they stumbled on a few weeks ago. He sets the pan back down and turns around to face Pierre properly. He stands on his tiptoes and gives the older man a peck on the lips, before taking their plates and setting it on the table.
“Let’s eat.” Yuki says, smiling.
Pierre then feels the warmth in his chest burst into a raging fire, reaching for the sky, spreading across the oceans. He doesn’t mind, not at all. He kindles it in his heart, willing it to grow bigger, to burn brighter. He surrenders to it, and allows it to consume him from the inside out. If he could kneel before the flame he would. Let it be a testament of his love for the angel standing before him.
“Mon ange,” Pierre says, breathless. “Je t’aime.” He whispers.
“Yes, yes. I love you too, Pierre.” Yuki blushes harder, chuckling. “Why are you so lovey-dovey today? I bet you dream of us doing inappropriate things.” He teases, waggling his eyebrows at Pierre.
The Frenchman can’t help the chortle that leaves his mouth. He laughs fully, the sound coming from deep within his belly. He laughs until he loses his breath, wiping at his eyes as he chokes on his laughter. Yuki always somehow finds a way to ruin the moment.
'It’s okay,' he thinks. It’s his Yuki after all.
“I can’t believe you.” Pierre chuckles, catching his breath, and shaking his head as he finally takes his seat at the table.
Yuki smiles and sits across from him. “Itadakimasu.” He says.
“Itadakimasu.” Pierre repeats, a little butchered with his french accent, but Yuki is smiling back at him anyway.