Work Text:
Pierre stepped out of the car, two bags hanging from his hands as he headed for Yuki’s apartment.
One was a crinkly plastic bag stuffed with food and drinks he’d picked up along the way.
The other was a small, glossy paper bag in a deep shade of brown.
He rang the buzzer. When Yuki opened the door, Pierre handed him the smaller bag—then dropped a light kiss by his eye.
And just like that, he nudged his loudly protesting, red-faced boyfriend inside.
⸻
“What’s this? Mine?”
Yuki didn’t even wait for an answer before pulling a box out and inspecting it.
“Whiskey bonbons. …I mean, if they weren’t yours in this situation, that’d be kind of concerning.”
“Heh. Yeah, fair. Thanks!”
Pierre let out a faint, amused sigh as he started laying out what he’d bought.
Meanwhile, Yuki untied the ribbon with practiced ease, still standing, opened the box—and let out a soft gasp.
He immediately picked one up and tossed it into his mouth.
The chocolate gave way with a light snap, and then the liquor melted out, warm and rich across his tongue.
“Whoa… this is good. Pierre! These are really good!”
Yuki beamed, eyes sparkling.
Seeing that completely unguarded grin directed at him, Pierre couldn’t help it.
God, he’s way too easy to spoil.
And just like that, he found himself falling for his younger boyfriend all over again.
In the end, aside from the one Yuki insisted Pierre try because it was “too good not to,” every last bonbon disappeared into Yuki.
And with that, Pierre’s Valentine’s Day was a complete success.
⸻
Yuki sprawled out on the sofa, his head resting in Pierre’s lap, idly scrolling through his phone.
He replied to a message from the team, returned to the home screen—and then froze.
His eyes flicked to the calendar icon.
Then flicked back.
His whole body jerked slightly.
“Yuki…?” Pierre leaned down, blinking. “What’s wrong?”
Yuki turned to him, eyes just as wide.
“Did you know it’s Valentine’s Day today!?”
Pierre paused—then smiled.
“Of course. …Wait, you only just realized?”
Yuki immediately flung his phone aside, buried his face in his hands, and groaned.
Then he shot upright and turned to Pierre, looking painfully awkward.
“Th-then those whiskey bonbons were—!”
“Yeah. A token of my love.”
Yuki collapsed back onto the sofa.
For a while, all that came out of him were muffled noises—“ahhh,” “no way,”—before he slowly sat back up again.
“…I didn’t prepare anything…”
His voice was tiny. His shoulders slumped.
Pierre stared at him, honestly a little stunned.
Was it even fair for someone to be this cute?
Even accounting for bias, this was a lot.
While Pierre was quietly drowning in that realization, Yuki kept shrinking in on himself beside him—like a slug shriveling under salt.
Before he could completely melt away, Pierre reached out.
“Honestly? Watching you enjoy them like that was more than enough for me.”
“But! You thought I’d get you something too, didn’t you!?”
Yuki snapped upright again, brows pulling into a perfect inverted V.
Pierre smiled and ruffled his hair.
“Well… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect something.
But honestly? You forgetting like this is pretty cute too. So it all evens out.”
He meant every word.
⸻
Soft sunlight filled the room, warm and gentle.
Inside Yuki, however, things were less peaceful.
It was more like a battered ship struggling through a storm-torn sea.
And when Pierre said, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect something,
that ship hit an iceberg—and promptly found itself surrounded by sharks.
Panic hit its peak.
Yuki shot to his feet, grabbed his car keys—
“Wait here! I’ll be right back!”
—and made for the door.
“After eating eleven whiskey bonbons? You seriously planning to drive?”
Yuki crumpled on the spot.
Pierre stood, walked over, and gave his back a light pat.
“Hey. Seriously, don’t worry about it. Just seeing you today made me happy.
…Actually, now that I think about it, I had one too. Guess I can’t drive either. Mind if I stay?”
He knew perfectly well the alcohol from a single bonbon would be long gone by the time he left.
He said it anyway, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
⸻
That night, Yuki somehow managed to pull himself together—
only to remember the Valentine’s Day situation at random moments and wilt all over again.
Pierre adored both versions of him equally.
And the two of them spent the night in the same bed.
⸻
Pierre had work the next morning, so he left before sunrise.
“I’m sorry… You gave me something so good, and I didn’t have anything for you…”
Yuki still looked completely dejected.
Even though he hated the cold, he’d come outside to see him off.
(I got plenty from you already,) Pierre thought.
“Then next time, we’ll go eat something good. Your treat.”
He leaned in and pressed a light, audible kiss to Yuki’s lips.
“O-okay… yeah…”
Yuki looked away, flustered—then suddenly stopped.
“…Ah.”
He crouched, picked something up, then stood and held it out.
“Then… for now, this.”
It was a small weed growing between the wall and the pavement.
A deep pink flower shaped almost like a tiny raspberry.
Pierre smiled.
“Getting flowers on Valentine’s Day… that’s pretty romantic. Thanks.”
He leaned in for another kiss—
“We’re outside!” Yuki protested.
So instead, Pierre pressed a kiss to the back of his hand and stepped away.
Once in the car, he carefully tucked the little weed into his jacket pocket, started the engine, and drove off into the dim morning streets.
⸻
Later, during a break, Pierre found himself thinking about it.
What kind of flower was that?
He took it out—handling it far more carefully than you’d expect for a weed—and pulled out his phone.
A quick search.
Gomphrena globosa.
Apparently not a weed, but a garden flower.
Probably a stray seed that had taken root there.
He turned it slowly between his fingers, studying it from different angles.
Then, as he scrolled—his finger stopped.
“Flower meaning: everlasting love, eternal affection.”
“…Hah—!”
A laugh burst out of him before he could stop it.
“Hahaha—!”
He forgot completely that he was at work. Tears welled in his eyes. His makeup artist would hate this—but there was no stopping it.
“…That guy… he’s unbelievable.”
After a moment, finally catching his breath, Pierre looked down at the small flower in his hand—and smiled, utterly, completely happy.