I think the funniest part about being a smut writer is accidentally acting out little details of your story as you write it– I just caught myself cradling my chin in my hand and brushing open my mouth with my fingers– without realizing how silly my dumbass must’ve looked doing it
a concept: Victor usually wakes up first in the mornings. So when Yuuri wakes to find Victor cuddled against him, breathing slowly and steadily, it’s a pleasant surprise. He brushes his fingers through Victor’s hair and Victor instinctively moves closer to him, gravitating towards Yuuri’s touch whether conscious or unconscious.
They have to leave soon, so regretfully Yuuri whispers to him in Japanese, trying to wake him. Victor hums, still asleep, and tangles a leg in between both of Yuuri’s. Yuuri kisses his forehead and his chest aches with unconditional love that could reverse the turn of the Earth, that could part the ocean, that could put out the embers of the sun. Five more minutes won’t hurt anyone.