rainbowvictor:

Yuuri stands back and stares at the blank walls of Victor’s living room. He places his hands on his hips and thinks for a moment. From across the room, Victor stares at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

Yuuri looks back with a frown. “There are no picture on the wall.” Victor nods. “Why?”

“Well,” Victor’s starts, turning a slight shade of pink. “I’ve never had… any… pictures… to put up.”

The words come out painfully sincere, like he knows it’s the saddest thing to possibly say on Yuuri’s first day there. Especially when Yuuri grew up in a home covered wall to wall in family pictures. Of course he’d notice the lack of warmth in his apartment.

For the first time in a long time, Victor was embarrassed.

“Well,” Yuuri stresses, “You do now.” He walks over to a box labeled fragile and pulls out a stack of frames and albums, and hands it to Victor.

He looks at the stack for a moment and smiles.

“My mom packed all of the photos we took last summer,” Yuuri says gleefully. “Not before making copies, though. Plus, I’ve got some pictures from the past season in there too. Where do you keep the command strips?”

Victor swears he’s going to cry, but Yuuri kisses him before he can even think to.

“Come on, lets put them up.”

A warm evening breeze runs through the rooms of their apartment, light and lifting like the classical music playing in the background. The pitter patter of Makkachin scurrying from room to room echoes throughout, mixing with laughter. It was a familiar scene, but something was different. More lively.

Happy.