Yuri managed to unlock the door with barely a click, open it without a single creak and slip inside without anybody noticing. So far, so good. Now to get to his room before the shitheads realized he existed...

"YURIO!"

"AAAAGH!" Yuri screamed as something long and lean and over-enthusiastic landed into him from behind. "Get the hell off me, Nikiforov! Oh lord and get that dumbass dog off me too," he added as yet another wet and furry thing collided into him.

"Hey Yurio, welcome home!" Katsuki Yuuri stuck his head around the wall and smiled at him. "Just in time for dinner! Why weren't you at practice today?"

"I was busy- oh, get OFF, Makkachin," growled Yuri. "I thought I could get some peace here to get my homework done, but it looks like-"

"Oh, you're still struggling with your math?" observed Yuuri. "Jeez, how bad are you at math, Yurio? Viktor, help him out. I've got three things on the stove."

"Oh, why not, that's not a bad idea!" Viktor winked at Yuri. "Worry no longer, Yurio. We'll get that math homework done and dusted in no time! I majored in math in college, you know!"

"You didn't go to college, Vitya," came Yuuri's exasperated voice from the kitchen.

"Ignore him," said Viktor. Sitting down at the dining table, he pulled the math book toward him and began. "Okay, so here's how it goes. You start with this expression, and then-"

At least they don't seem to know that Otabek is good at math, thought Yurio, relieved. Otherwise, they'd never leave me alone either. But what's actually surprising here on so many different levels is that of all people, Viktor is teaching me math-

"-and then we do that-"

"Viktor, if you haven't got a clue how to do algebra, don't pretend you do!" snapped Yuuri, wiping the heart-shaped smile off his fiancé's face. He pushed Viktor aside and sat down. "Go watch the stove, Viktor. Yurio, I'm not going to explain this again, so watch me closely and do the rest of the sums on your own, got it?"

Yuri watched idly as Yuuri patiently wrote out the proof. Otabek majored in math, huh? Smart guy. Or maybe I'm dumb. But then it's Otabek we're talking about, so maybe I'm not that bad. And wait, how does Mila know so much about him? She can't be talking to him, right?

"...are you even listening?"

Yuuri got to his feet. "There, I wrote it down. I hope you can understand what I've written, because you sure as hell weren't listening and I sure as hell am not writing all that down again."

"I can figure it out for myself, Katsudon," yawned Yuri distractedly, and inhaled deeply. He opened his eyes. "Is something burning?"

Viktor popped his head into the dining room. "Yuuri, d'you mind coming in here for a bit?"

"Vitya!" cried Yuuri exasperatedly, rushing into the kitchen. Yuri groaned aloud. It was the second time in three days. Yuri would have moved out and gone back to living with Yakov a long time ago had it not been for the fact that the latter was so annoying and did not allow other people to sleep in. He got up and slouched away towards his room, taking full advantage of his flatmates' distraction. A minute in peace. To think. That was all he wanted.

Alone in his room, Yuri scrolled through the contacts on his phone. No, he didn't have Otabek's number, and of course, he wasn't looking for it anyway. Yuko. There it was. There's a person whom he could talk to without getting pissed off for five minutes.

"Wait, where's that thing Katsudon wrote out for me?" Yuri rolled off his bed, annoyed, and made his way back to the dining room. He'd just get it and go back to his room and try and decipher it alone, and then-

"Where on earth is it?" mused Yuri aloud, turning over the tablecloth. He'd left it here just a few minutes ago! Yuuri and Viktor were still banging pots and pans together in the background. Makkachin came bounding over to Yuri and licked his ankles.

"Oh, stop that," sighed Yuri, pushing the poodle away. "Wait, what the actual-"

There were chewed-up bits of paper dangling from the fur around Makkachin's mouth.

"VIKTOR NIKIFOROV, YOUR FREAKING DOG JUST LITERALLY ATE MY HOMEWORK!"

"What- MAKKACHIN!" bellowed Viktor, charging into the living room. Growling in frustration, Yuri retreated into his room and slammed the door. Makkachin would be fine, he was always eating things he wasn't supposed to be eating! Yuri heartily wished Viktor would stop freaking out every time this happened and pay a bit more attention to the fate of whatever Makkachin ate instead.

No way in hell could he ask Katsudon to write out his homework again, though he probably would do it. Yuri only hesitated for a split second before calling Yuko.

She picked up on the second ring. Her pleasant, composed "Hello?" was music to Yuri's ears after a day of being shouted at.

"Hey, Yuko-san, it's me, Yuri."

"I know, Yurio-kun. How're you doing?"

Yuri sighed. He never had the heart to snap at Yuko for anything, even calling him Yurio. "I kinda, needed some help...with my math homework."

Yuko laughed loudly, making Yuri blush. "How adorable! It never occurred to me that even you have ordinary teenage boy problems like math homework."

Yuri found that sounding oddly refreshing. Ordinary teenage boy problems. "So, d'you think you could help me then?"

Yuko's voice grew serious. "I don't know, Yurio-kun, I was never really that great at math... Takeshi is worse, though, so I won't bother asking him. Yuuri isn't bad, though, and I've heard Otabek Altin is brilliant-"

"Yeah, I tried asking Katsudon but it didn't work," cut in Yuri loudly. Just how many people wanted to throw him in together with Otabek, huh? "Never mind, Yuko, I'll figure it out somehow."

"No worries, Yurio-kun," said Yuko. "Just call whenever- oh lord, those three've gotten hold of Takeshi's phone again! I've told them it's off limits! I'll talk to you later, Yurio, take care, okay?"

"Mm, thanks," murmured Yuri, after she hung up. Talking to Yuko always helped clear his mind.

Yuri was exhausted, and his bed was soft and warm and comfortable. He glanced at the clock. It was seven thirty. Maybe an hour's nap and he could get back to his homework?

Yuri rolled over on to his stomach and shut his eyes. From the sounds of arguing and malfunctioning kitchen equipment that was emanating from beyond his bedroom door, he guessed that dinner wouldn't be ready for a while.