Yuuri feels horribly, horribly out of place in Victor's apartment.

He wasn't prepared for it be so neat. He wasn't prepared for the clean, modern furniture, or the open floor plan, or…whatever it was those lights were in the kitchen. This apartment is essentially the home-version of Victor Nikiforov, the Living Legend of Russia—clean, bright, and impeccably put together.

It takes all of Yuuri's willpower not to dump all of his belongings into the garbage downstairs. Because where would it fit? Where would he fit? He had it on good authority (Phichit) that he was a good roommate, but this was…a lot.

"You brought so little, Золотце! Are you planning on having the rest of your things shipped over?" Victor calls as he brings in the second box of Yuuri's things, Makkachin bouncing up to get a good sniff of the box. He grins at Yuuri, only to have it drop a moment later. "Yuuri?"

With a decent amount of effort, Yuuri pulls himself out of his head enough to respond. "Ah…you know, we really don't need to put this stuff up. It won't…it looks like you've already got a…a set way of doing things. I don't want to intrude."

Victor laughs as he steps into the living area. "You can't intrude on your own home." He sets the box down and opens it up before Yuuri can protest, and he laughs as he pulled out the worst possible thing he could have pulled out.

"How adorable!" he coos, holding up the little wooden pig that Yuuri really should have thrown out because he didn't even like it that much. "We should put him in here!"

"Oh, we don't have to…" he starts, but Victor's already set it on the coffee table, where it stares Yuuri down as Victor goes through the box. A globe comes out, along with a little solar toy of a poodle that wagged its tail and…

"Oh!" Victor immediately hugs the hamster plush to him. "Was this from your skate?"

"It's…it was a goodbye present from Phichit, actually," Yuuri answers stiffly. "After I graduated. But those can go…"

"I know just the place for them!" Victor chirps, gathering up the (stupid!) toys into his arms. Yuuri wonders if he can force an aneurysm and end this embarrassment before it begins. He watches silently as Victor pulls out a few books from his bookshelf and starts arranging things. Yuuri finally finds his voice.

"Victor, seriously, if they're not going to work in this room, we don't need to force it. You already have a…a set style. I don't want to ruin that."

Victor paused, looking up at Yuuri curiously. "What style?"

"This…I don't know, this whole modern, pale colors thing. It's very…you. And all this is very…not," he says, gesturing to the boxes in front of them. He leaves out his main worry: I'm not going to fit in your life.

Victor blinks, then looks around the apartment as if seeing it for the first time. "Wow. You're right."

Yuuri grimaces. He knew he was.

"It looks like an operating room in here." He smiles a bit as he finds a good place for the pig. "All practicality, no life." He picks up the hamster and looks it over for a moment. "You know, when I was growing up, my mother always complained that I didn't live at our house. It was more like I was just wasting time between practices."

Yuuri is caught completely off-guard by Victor mentioning his mother. He'd never said anything about his family, even after they'd gotten engaged. Before he could figure out a proper, husband-to-be way to respond, Victor continues.

"And she was right, both then and right up until I left for Hasetsu." He carefully fits the hamster into the shelf, then leans down to grab his matryoshka dolls, setting them in front of the little display he's created. "But now, home gets to be more than somewhere to spend my time off the rink." He grins as he gestures at the shelf, where the pig and hamster peer out from behind the matryoshkas. It's whimsical and lovely and so not a part of the flat. But…Yuuri kind of loves it. And, from what he can see, Victor does, too.

"Now, this gets to be a place for us." He sets his hands on his hips as he looks at his handiwork. "And I think this is a good start."

Yuuri looks up at his fiancé, then nods with a smile. "We should find more of your gifts from people. I'm sure Chris has given you plenty."

"Well, yes, but they're not exactly things to display. Yurio would be scarred for life if he saw those on a bookshelf."

"Point taken."