Viktor knew how minimally Yuuri lived; he did a short stint living in Hasetsu and had seen Yuuri's room before. But he still wasn't prepared for how little Yuuri would bring to St. Petersburg. His carry-on bag, a checked bag, and two modestly sized, brown shipping boxes. Was Yuuri a wizard? He remembered all the things he had shipped to Yu-topia: a couch, a bed, his clothes, not to mention all of Makkachin's things. He stared at the boxes, sitting in the middle of his living room, with Yuuri standing next to them with a confused yet nervous smile. He looked a little silly, standing there with his coat, scarf and hat still on.

"Is something wrong?" His fiancé asked in a shaky voice.

"Not at all!" Viktor reached out and pulled off the hat and scarf. Yuuri must have been feeling anxious, having not made himself comfortable yet. "I'm just surprised you didn't bring more of your things."

"Well, you said I didn't need to bring furniture."

"That's right."

"So, this is everything but the furniture." He was slipping his arms out of the coat as Viktor pulled it off of him. The latter hung it all on the coat rack next to his front door.

"It seems so Spartian. But no matter; it should make unpacking quicker." He smiled and Yuuri's ears turned pink.

In theory, less stuff means less to make room for, but Viktor found out he was woefully unprepared for this move. He had never needed to share his living space before and it was not as simple as finding a spot for everything. A strange complication appeared in what Viktor thought was going to be the easiest chore: the placement of Yuuri's clothes. Viktor thought he was smart. He had actually cleaned it out recently, donating old pieces he had not worn in a while. But Yuuri looked at the closet with a blank expression and started to do a double take around the bedroom.

"What is it?"

"Where's your dresser?" Viktor confessed that he did not have a dresser, as he did not like how it cramped the bedroom. All his clothes were hung in the closet. Yuuri looked in the closet again.

"Where's your underwear?"

"I don't wear it." Yuuri's face suddenly exploded into a deep blush. How did Yuuri not notice this?

"How can you not wear it? You live in St. Petersburg!"

"Кальсоны!" The unimpressed look on Yuuri's face told him of his mistake. "Oh, um. How it's called… Long johns! I think."

"You'll wear long johns, but not underwear."

"Only when it's really cold."

"So," Yuuri pulled out a pair of his own boxer briefs for effect, "what about my underwear?"

"You're going to wear underwear while here?"

"Viktor!"

They came to a mutually agreed compromise that a small cubby or shelf would be bought and placed in the closet for Yuuri's underwear solution. But Viktor did fight the good fight.

The next issue was the placement of Yuuri's electronics, most notably his laptop and printer. This was an oversight on Viktor's part, as he had completely forgotten about setting up a workspace for Yuuri. He thought he could get away with squeezing Yuuri's things onto his desk, but it was small desk to encourage Viktor not to collect clutter. He could move his laptop over and squeeze Yuuri's right next to it, but that took up the rest of the surface area. Not to mention that Viktor only had one chair. Even if he had a second seat, they would be so close that if they sat down at the desk at the same time, they would be bumping elbows. A rather uncomfortable layout. Viktor offered to rotate the desk 90 degrees, to pull it away from the wall and free up its backside and try laying the laptops across from each other. Yuuri shot down the idea immediately, stating that the desk was not big enough, that it would disrupt the flow of the room and they would be knocking knees the whole time instead. They would have to go out and buy another desk for Yuuri and decide later where the best place to put it would be. Until then, Yuuri's computer was set next to Viktor's and his printer temporarily relocated into the corner of the closet.

Then came the surprisingly big issue of where Yuuri's phone would call home. Viktor had a nightstand on either side of his bed, but only the right side had an easily accessible outlet. And both plugs were already in use: one for Viktor's phone and the other for a lamp. Viktor dug around junk drawers and storage cubes for an obscenely long time, trying to find an extension cord with multiple outlets to accommodate Yuuri's addition. When he did finally find it and plugged it in, he realized that he would need to pull the bed away from the wall to run it to the other side. He and Yuuri moved it just as far as it needed to be to thread it behind the headboard after some huffing and puffing. Finally, it was done: Yuuri had an outlet for his phone. But as soon as Viktor stood back from their handiwork, realizing the messy curl of the cord and the gap between wall and furniture, he felt an annoying disruption in his clean, streamlined aesthetic. As he stood there, trying to mentally fix the issue and debating about hiring an electrician to install another outlet on the left side, Yuuri prodded him with a concerned "what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Yuuri!" He quickly put on a smile, not realizing how serious he must have looked. "It just looks a little messy. I may try to find a better solution later."

When the pair set their eyes on Yuuri's speakers and sound system, they both agreed to deal with that mess of cords another day and set that box into the corner of the closet next to the printer.

Funny enough, the thing Viktor most worried about, Yuuri's smaller personal items and treasures, were easier to deal with. He was concerned that too many things would make his apartment look crowded or that it would clash with the style of the apartment. Instead, he found nothing unnecessary. Yuuri had only brought useful or thoughtful things, mostly involving food, including a beautiful cooking knife, a couple pairs of chopsticks, two bento boxes and a rice cooker. Viktor was surprised to not find anything specific to Yu-topia Katsuki or Hasetsu, a small figurine or lantern, to remind Yuuri of home. When he asked about it, Yuuri gave a quizzical look.

"Well, I got my degree in the States and I travel for my career. I don't really feel the need to bring things like that to help with homesickness." Viktor supposed that made sense. Then as if to argue what Yuuri had just said, Viktor pulled out a squat figure of a man, just big enough to hold in his hands, painted bright red with bushy eyebrows and a beard, and two large, slightly uneven eyes.

"Oh, a daruma doll!" He smiled at the hand-painted eyes, utterly charmed by the trinket. Yuuri immediately flushed at the sight of it. "And he's got both of his eyes! Did you do this?"

"Yes." Yuuri held out his hands to take the little man from Viktor, but he was not done admiring it.

"That means you made a wish and it came true, yes?"

"Yes." Viktor worried that Yuuri would catch a fever as he witnessed how red his face was quickly becoming, but it was also too cute. He had to tease him some more.

"Aren't you going to tell me what it was?"

"Come on, Viktor." Yuuri leaned forward and tried to take the doll from him, but Viktor pulled back and held it to his chest. "It's embarrassing."

"Yuuri, you're my fiancé. Just tell me." He smiled so wide, hoping that it would encourage Yuuri to open up to him. The latter did not immediately refuse, twisting the edge of his sleeve and threatening to stretch it out. Then he lowered his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"My mother got it for me shortly after you came to Hasetsu. She thought it was a nice way to help me with my skating goals. But when I sat down to paint the first eye, it didn't feel right to make it about skating. Like, there was a bigger, more passionate feeling that I wanted to accomplish." He paused, and Viktor held his breath. "I gave him his eye thinking of you, hoping that I could have you long into my future."

Viktor was surprised to feel a watery sting in his eyes. He rubbed at them before Yuuri could notice, not wanting to discourage him, but it was too late; the movement caught Yuuri's attention and he leaned in, worried. How could he resist a face so full of love and concern for him? Viktor gently pulled Yuuri by the back of his neck and caught him in a kiss.

"When did you paint the second eye?" He asked after parting, happy to see Yuuri's face bloom pink from shyness and inexperience instead of anxiousness.

"Just before flying out here."

"So late! You had me in Barcelona."

"I didn't have him with me in Barcelona."

Viktor decided that the daruma doll belonged on the intimate dining table, easily visible from almost any spot in the flat. This made Yuuri feel too exposed and he asked that they put it somewhere else, but this was not a decision that Viktor would compromise on. He set the doll squarely in the middle of the table while wrapping an arm about the younger man's waist, pulling him close. He bowed his head and buried his face into the crook of Yuuri's shoulder, leaving feathery kisses on his neck while he explained himself.

Every morning, they are going to come into this kitchen and have breakfast. Most nights, they will be eating dinner right at this table. Sometimes, they may spend the whole day inside and eat junk food. He's going to want Yuuri to show him how to make pork cutlet bowls and he's going to mix drinks for Yuuri when they don't feel like going to pubs. They may even make homemade pirozhki and force Yurio to try them. But Viktor knows they are going to be spending a lot of time in this kitchen, sitting at that table and eating together. And he wants to see that doll every day, to remind him of the many more days to come that he gets to spend with Yuuri.

Viktor felt the moment when Yuuri, finally, relaxed. The loosening of muscles under his touch, the clearing of the tense air. Yuuri turned in his arms and gently caressed his face with shy fingers, brushing aside loose, silvery hair in front of his eyes. Viktor kissed them as they passed. He nearly melted when he noticed the easy smile on Yuuri's lips. The latter called him a romantic as he leaned and kissed his fiancé. It was deep and loving and Viktor thought that his heart would catch fire.

He had trouble recalling how they ended up in the bedroom, or even who lead whom there, but Yuuri's suitcase made itself known, tripping him up so he fell onto the bed. It was so utterly graceless and a little embarrassing, that Viktor laughed at himself. Yuuri felt a second of panic when his lover was suddenly detached from him, but quickly found the humor in the event when he saw Viktor sprawled clumsily atop his bedspread. He apologized as he crawled on top of Viktor, legs pinning the older man beneath him, because he was certain that he had pushed the man over his luggage. Viktor mumbled something about making it up to him, his mind and hands more preoccupied with the supple muscles of Yuuri's thighs. Yuuri caught them, entangling their fingers together, leaning over Viktor so their foreheads touched and he took in a deep, calming breath. He squeezed Viktor's hands.

And whispered a soft I love you.

Viktor repeated the phrase with effortless, seductive confidence and Yuuri felt a warm glow in his heart. He kissed Viktor with a passion that he did not know he possessed and hoped to not know any other emotion for the rest of the night.