Snap
Disclaimer: No.
Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.
AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.
Frosting
OT3 (Yuri x Estelle x Flynn) cooking!
Yuri doesn't know why he tries.
Flynn sucks at cooking, Estelle also sucks at cooking, even if it is to a lesser extent, and Yuri just wants them out of the kitchen so he can bake in peace. Okay, so he did tell Estelle a few weeks back that he'd let her help with Bartel's birthday cake if she could get away from the capitol, and Flynn is rarely further than a step behind her at any given time.
Not that Yuri has much of an issue with this, because if he had his way he'd see both of them every single day and every single night with only hours of inevitability in between, and he hates the separation.
Yuri got used to being alone and now he's not, and now it really kind of sucks when they're not here.
That doesn't make either of them more helpful, though, especially when there's a party in six hours and Yuri does have other things to get done for it other than cooking, and of course he wouldn't dream of not leaving a few hours to spare for catching up, but seriously. Yuri has stuff to do.
And neither Flynn nor Estelle are helping.
Well, Estelle is trying. She can do small things as long as she's shown them first but that doesn't mean that Yuri's going to give her free rein with the recipe and Flynn…no.
No, no, no.
Flynn's lack of ability in the kitchen is as infamous as his ability as a commandant, and Yuri rather likes Bartel; he doesn't want to kill him just yet.
He looks over at his lovers and sighs. Estelle glances up and smiles sheepishly. She knows, of course. Flynn does too but he doesn't really care.
Ass.
"Look," Yuri says, "Not that I don't appreciate the, ahem, help," he eyes Flynn sharply, who shrugs, "But this is too many people trying to do the same things. It's not going to work." So he directs Flynn to the bowl of spare batter, which he'd tripled in a just-in-case measure that hadn't been needed. "There are pans under the oven, put paper cups in them and fill them about halfway. No point in wasting it."
Flynn sighs and finally deigns to look the slightest bit shamefaced, but does as Yuri orders.
Estelle he trusts just a tiny bit more. Not much, but a little more.
"Put the powdered sugar I set out with the butter in this bowl," he pushes the bowl over, "And beat it with a whisk until it gets fluffy. Eventually you'll add some cream and vanilla but not or a while. You got that?" he makes a whisking motion with his arm and Estelle, looking entirely too amused,
salutes.
"Aye aye," she says, and is definitely too amused to be allowed, "I think I can handle that."
Yuri watches her under a hawklike stare until he's sure that nothing is going to go horribly awry or explode. She whisks and whisks and Flynn pours batter until finally, finally, Yuri can focus on actually making Bartel a proper birthday cake.
At least until there's a muffled choking noise behind him and he can't help but whip around to stare.
He's not disappointed. Flynn's stopped mid-pour and for once Yuri can't make himself yell at him, because he doesn't blame him for a second. Somehow Estelle's managed to get buttercream all over her face and apron (probably from whisking too hard) and thank goodness Yuri tripled that recipe too. She's finally noticed and is muttering under her breath though she hasn't noticed the stares of her comrades, who can't seem to look away.
Estelle pats her cheek, frowns, and scoops a dollop of frosting off to pop it into her mouth, and Yuri spares maybe half a second to check his cake before he moves, caging her against the countertop and kissing her swiftly.
"Yuri?" she asks when he pulls away, green eyes bright and interested.
"You had frosting on your face," he replies and kisses her again. He can taste the sugar on her lips too; it's clearly not the first bit she's decided not to waste. And then there are hands on Yuri's hips and Yuri turns around to grin at Flynn, just in time to catch a hard, insistent kiss of his own.
He hopes it's sweet.
Estelle leans back a little to watch, and Yuri can't help but pull her back in a little when he sees the look in her eyes—she's so shamelessly in love with both of them and Yuri has no idea how he went so long without seeing it.
"No, no, don't mind me," she informs them, "The view's good from here."
And this time Flynn's the one to move, somehow twisting around Yuri like the sneaky bastard he's been since he was four and wrapping an arm around her, crushing both her and Yuri into his armor until they squeak. Or, in Yuri's case, grunt in the most manly way to ever happen since the dawn of time. Ever.
Which is totally a squeak because the next thing any of them know, Estelle's giggling into the nape of Flynn's neck and Flynn is sniggering helplessly, and Yuri has no idea why he decided to get involved with them, clearly. None. At all.
Except that he still tastes the frosting from Estelle's lips and what had to be cake batter from Flynn, because he clearly can't leave well enough alone either.
Yuri would sigh except that he's much too content to do so right now, wrapped around two of the people he loves more than anyone else, and he considers putting cake off for a bit and taking those spare hours he'd put aside for more useful things…
Until there's a rattle behind him.
The three of them whip around and there's Bartel standing in the middle of the doorway, the only trace of embarrassment on his face being the tiny dusting of color high on his cheeks.
"Well, uh, happy birthday to me," he mutters.
Estelle and Flynn look like they both want to die but again, all Yuri can feel is content, like a cat who's gotten exactly what it wanted.
"Hey," he greets casually like his lips aren't kiss-bruised and his eyes aren't hazy and he doesn't have one lover pinned up against the counter and the other pressed up behind him in a way that was entirely inappropriate for public company. "Happy birthday."
"I'm gonna…go." Bartel says slowly. "Right. I'm gonna just go on and go."
"Good plan," Yuri says evenly. "There's going to be cake."
"I can see that."
And then the man flees, Yuri would be bummed about the mood being broken except for the fact that there's a bowl of perfect vanilla buttercream just to his left and only one of the cupcakes is going to be ruined, and Yuri knows he'll be able to get those hours eventually.
With interest.
AN2: Thank you for reading! As always, feel free to shoot me any ideas you might have in a review, a PM, or an ask!