Yuuri, as he’s walking through the living room, seeing Viktor rocking a bundle of blankets out of the corner of his eye and assuming that he’s holding one of their actual human children.
“Something wrong?” he asks, because it’s midnight and the kids are supposed to be in bed.
“She had a nightmare,” says Viktor, which Yuuri accepts, and continues on his task, probably something like making an incredibly sugary or salty midnight snack because he’s an adult and he can.
It’s only several minutes later, when he’s sitting down next to Viktor and preparing to melt against him sort of like jello left in the sun, that he hears the snuffling sounds from the blanket.
“Um,” says Yuuri, pulling back the blanket. Viktor has the dog in his arms. Viktor has the dog wrapped in one of the crocheted blankets that his mother sent from Japan for their children, and he is cradling her like a human baby.
“Yuuri, I’m trying to get her back to sleep,” says Viktor, pulling the blanket back down over her face. “Please.”
Yuuri just accepts it, after a second, because honestly? Weirder things have happened.
A thing that has really happened in the Katsuki-Nikiforov household:
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