Notes: Your home is not just where you lay your bed, your family is not just who shares your blood. Yuri is slowly learning this.

Two months later and I'm adding another chapter to this haha.

I didn't like this one as much as the last one, but I think you'll enjoy it.

Healthy relationships weren't really something Yuri was used to. Successful marriages were hard to come by, sometimes it seemed like divorce settlements were almost more common than weddings. No one close to him was in a happy relationship.

Dedushka's wife had been dead for longer than Yuri could remember. She was nothing more than a smiling face from a picture on his grandfather's mantlepiece. He didn't think Yakov and Lilia were ever actually married. Viktor said they were at some point, but Yuri wasn't sure he believed him. It seemed like they'd been divorced since the beginning of time.

His own parents were a can of worms that he didn't dare try to open.

Yuri had to go all the way to Japan to find any happy couples. Even then, the Katsudon's parents were old enough to die, and his friends at the ice rink were still young enough to get divorced. Not very happy thoughts, but it wasn't like Yuri could stop himself from thinking them. It had gotten to the point that he wasn't sure if it was possible to be in love for more than a few years at most. Young couples were a time bomb waiting to go off. Old couples were only still together because neither of them had died and it would be too much trouble to split up.

Yuri Plisetski didn't believe in marriage. He'd never been given any reason to. So waking up on Viktor and Yuuri's sofa was like waking up in a whole different world. Everything about the apartment screamed 'married couple', and the two weren't even married yet.

The whiteboard on the wall was covered with scribbled love notes in several different colors and languages. A vase of fresh flowers was centered on the dining table. Framed pictures of Yuri, Viktor, and their friends were boldly displayed on every open surface. Yuri was mortified to see himself in a few of them.

Since when did he let them take pictures with him?

Yuri tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but his ribs screamed in protest. He was painfully reminded why he was in this ridiculous apartment in the first place.

He'd bawled his eyes out in front of Viktor. In front of Yuuri. He'd gotten snot all over Katsudon's jacket, and let them comfort him like a child. This was more than embarrassing. He might as well leave the country now. Maybe Otebeck would let him visit Kazakhstan. Hell, maybe he'd move to America. At least he knew the language.

"Yurio, you're awake!"

Yuri was so focused on trying to figure out which country he'd move to, he didn't notice the person he was trying to move away from entering the room. Viktor spun extravagantly from the kitchen and into the living room, Makkachin following closely. The dog jumped up on the couch to lick Yuri's face and sent a jolt of pain up his leg and into his hips.

"Get off me, dog!"

Makkachin barked cheerfully and curled up between Yuri's legs. His weight wasn't helping the bruises that had formed overnight, and Yuri was starting to wish he'd let Yuuri put ice on them as he'd offered to.

"We can eat breakfast now you're up! Yuuri's making pancakes for all of us!"

Yuri slowly sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing in his hips and ribs, and brushed his hair wildly out of his face, "What time is it?"

"Six?" Viktor phrased it like a question and Yuri pointedly glared out the window. Sunlight streamed through the blinds. It was clearly much later than six o' clock. "Give or take a few hours? Oh don't look at me like that, did you really think we were going to let you go to practice like this?"

Yuri glared. He didn't have time to skive off practice. If he did, then he wouldn't have been walking home so late in the first place.

"Oh, that's a scary face," Viktor's grin only widened, "you should eat something. Then maybe you'd be less grouchy."

"Viktor, don't start a fight so early in the morning. He had a rough night." Yuuri emerged from the kitchen, balancing a plate of the fluffiest blini Yuri had ever seen, "What do you like on your pancakes, Yurio? We have whipped cream and chocolate sauce. We might even have some strawberries left."

"I don't care, whatever." He just needed things to go back to normal. They weren't allowed to treat him like he was fragile or something.

Yuuri smiled, and set the plate on the table, "Okay then, I'll get them all out. Do you think you can stand up, or do you want to eat on the couch?"

"I'm not an invalid, I can walk." Yuri swung his legs over the edge of the couch, knocking Makkachin back into the cushions, and forcing himself upright. His legs were shaking, and it felt like someone was hammering nails between his legs and hips, but it was worth a little pain to keep what was left of his damaged pride.

The pancakes were good. They would have been better if Yuuri and Viktor would stop sending each other weird looks, but Yuri could admit that the food was alright. Probably had something to do with the fact that he'd never gotten to eat dinner last night.

He got through two pancakes and was reaching for another when Yuuri set his fork down delicately and let his hands drop into his lap, "So, Yurio… do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

Yuri stabbed at his third pancake with a violent ferocity, "No."

"Yurio-"

"Will you stop calling me that?"

Viktor raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Would you rather we call Yakov so you could have this conversation with him instead?"

Hell no. Yakov would go absolutely nuts.

"It's not even that big of a deal," Yuri growled, keeping his eyes firmly glued to his plate, "I just got out late and got in a fight with some guys I ran into on my way home."

"Not a big deal? You could hardly get in the car!"

"It looked worse last night. I'm fine now."

"Why are you trying to downplay this? We know you're not okay, just tell us what happened!"

"Why do you even care? It's not like I'm your kid!"

Viktor and Yuuri fell silent, and for moment Yuri thought he'd won. But then Katsuki just had to open his big fat mouth and look at him with those stupid teddy-bear eyes.

"You're our friend, Yuri. Of course we're worried about you."

Nope, they were not doing this again. Yuri had had enough tears and mushy moments to last the rest of the year at least. He shook his head, letting his hair fall into it's usual place in front of his eyes. It was still tangled and nasty. He needed a shower.

"I want to go home." Why the hell did his voice sound so brittle? Yuri cleared his throat and tried again, "To change clothes and stuff."

Viktor stood, his chair sliding back with a loud scraping sound, "Okay then. Finish your breakfast and I'll take you in my car."

"I'll come with you." Yuuri stood with his fiance.

Yuri rolled his eyes but didn't complain. The sooner he could get out of this weird place, the better. Before long they'd try and pull him into their picture-perfect family. He was lucky Viktor hadn't pulled out any adoption papers yet.

"Where's my bag?" Yuri shoved his plate away, his appetite suddenly gone.

"I put it by the door. Here, let me go grab it for you."

"I can get it."

"Oh no, I insist."

The car ride back to Yuri's apartment was uneventful. Yuri stared out the window at passing traffic. Viktor and Yuuri talked about domestic stuff like shopping lists and did disgusting things like hold hands over the console.

Viktor hadn't even finished parking the car before Yuri was jumping out onto the pavement. The movement was jarring to his sore hips, but the sooner he got out of lovey la-la land, the better.

In through the open door, staggaring up the narrow staircase, Yuri stopped outside his door. He grabbed at his leg before remembering that he was still wearing his leggings, not his pocketed jeans. Rifling through his duffle bag was similarly unfruitful.

Keys.

Keys.

Where were his damn keys?

"Looking for these?"

Yuri's face felt like it was on fire as Viktor dangled the house keys over his head and in front of his face. Dammit, he must have dropped them in the car. He reached up for them, but Viktor pulled away with a mischevious smile.

"Let's see what little Yurio's apartment looks like."

The apartment was a mess. Not an organized mess, it was well and truly an honest to goodness mess. Yuri was still a teenager, so he didn't feel the least bit guilty about not taking care of his apartment, but that didn't mean he wanted anyone else to see it.

"Viktor!" Katsuki had finally caught up, "You can't just invite yourself in!"

Thank god for Japanese manners.

"We're not just going to leave him here alone! He's hurt!"

No, Viktor was not allowed to use the puppy-dog pout. Everyone knew Yuuri was useless against it. He looked desperately from Yuri to Viktor, and Yuri had never seen a more conflicted man in his life. It looked like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Yuri rolled his eyes with a sigh, "Fine. You can come in!"

"Really! Thanks Yurio!" Viktor unlocked the door and strode inside like he owned the place, "Wow, it's pretty messy in here."

Messy might have been a bit of an understatement. Dirty clothes were strewn all across the floor and hanging off the back of the couch. Empty cups and food wrappers cluttered the counter. The couch was covered in various broken items Yuri hadn't gotten around to replace.

At least it didn't smell bad. Yuri hated the smell of an empty house, and his apartment remained empty most the day while he was at practice. He'd quickly learned that burning scented candles fixed that problem.

"Do you live by yourself, Yurio?" Yuuri asked. He frowned and looked around, taking in the small space with a furrowed brow.

Yuri dropped his bag on the floor and kicked it behind the couch. Ow, maybe that hadn't been such a great idea. "Yeah. It's not like I can drive up from Moscow every day."

"Yakov bought this place for him two years ago. I knew about it, but haven't been in here since he first got it." Viktor hummed as he walked over to inspect Yuri's wall of posters, "Oh, I haven't seen this one in a while. Which tour was this from?"

"Two-thousand four," both Yuri's replied in unison.

"Oh look, Yuuri! There are ones of you too!"

Yuri could feel his ears burning. Out of the dozens of skaters he had plastered to that wall, Viktor just had to find himself and Yuuri right away.

"Huh, I didn't think they still made these."

They didn't. But there was no way Yuri was admitting how long he'd had that poster.

"I'm going to go shower. Don't go poking into anything." He stomped off, head still steaming with embarrassment. He picked up a pile of hopefully clean clothes from his bedroom and slammed the bathroom door behind him. Just because he could.

Taking off his clothes revealed the real extent of his bruises. They covered his entire right side, the deep purple and blue hues stark against his pale skin. Trying to skate would have been a nightmare.

The hot water felt amazing against his sore body, though. Yuri didn't waste any time lathering his hair in as much shampoo as he wanted. He couldn't get the remaining dirt and vomit out of his long, blonde strands fast enough.

If he just stood there under the showerhead, he could pretend that everything was normal. He wasn't hurt. He hadn't just spent the night with the two lovebirds. They weren't hovering in his living room, waiting to fuss over him as soon as he got out. It was just a normal day.

A loud crash from the other room broke Yuri's concentration.

"What the hell was that?" He shouted as loud as he could.

Viktor's response wasn't audible through the walls and over the spray of water. He thought he heard Yuuri says something, but couldn't be sure.

Yuri turned off the shower and listened carefully. Everything had gone quiet again. He groaned and stepped out of the tub. If those two had broken something…

He dried his hair as quickly as he could and pulled it into a messy ponytail, then pulled on a pair of sweats and a loose-fitting T-shirt. A cloud of steam flooded the hallway as he opened the bathroom door. He could hear Yuuri and Viktor whispering from the other room. It sounded like they were in the kitchen.

"Be careful! This isn't our stuff!"

"Look, nothing's broken. It's fine!"

"Sixteen-year-olds like their personal space, Viktor."

"I didn't have my own apartment when I was sixteen. I lived with Yakov and Lilia."

"Did you want to live by yourself?"

Yuri heard the familiar sound of the fridge door opening. Why the hell were they looking in there? He specifically told them not to go poking around. It wasn't like he had much in there. He hadn't been shopping in ages, and all that was left was some leftover ramen and the nasty protein shakes Lilia made him drink.

"We should invite him to dinner more often. It's lonely in here."

"Of course, darling."

Lonely? His apartment wasn't lonely. It was a sanctuary from all the stupidity of the world. And if it was a little lonely, then Yuri liked it that way. Better than having these idiots around.

Sure, maybe the candles were to make the place smell lived in. Maybe he left his clothes everywhere to make it seem less empty. Maybe Dedushka's letters were left open on his nightstand and his friends' posters were taped to the wall. But he wasn't trying to make the place seem less lonely.

Maybe…

Yuri coughed to try and force down the lump that had formed in his throat. Viktor and Yuuri both looked up at the sound.

"Yurio, you're out! Are you feeling better?" Stupid Yuuri asking stupid questions.

"What are you doing in my kitchen?"

Viktor smiled innocently, shutting the fridge door, "We were just looking around. It's so empty in here! Are you eating enough, Yuri?"

"Today's shopping day. Why are you poking around my house?"

"It's shopping day? Perfect! We can go on a shopping trip together!"

Okay, maybe Viktor was the stupid one.

Yuuri frowned, "I guess a shopping trip could be fun. Unless you're not feeling up to walking around that much, Yurio."

"What?" Yuri spluttered. These two couldn't just plan to go shopping for him.

"We could carry him in the basket!"

"I think he's a little tall for that, Viktor."

Yuri stared at the two, completely dumbfounded. It seemed like he wasn't going to get any choice in the matter. The whole idea was mortifying… and maybe a tiny bit appealing. Yuri hadn't gone with anyone to the store since he lived with his grandfather. It might be… a little fun? He could at least mooch some cash off the two.

Viktor was practically jumping with excitement, Yuuri was laughing at his fiance's antics, and maybe… just maybe… the apartment felt just a little less empty.

Yuri had to fight to keep the grin off his face.

Notes: Again, I haven't actually seen Yuuri on Ice in a while, so I don't remember if they mentioned Yuri's living situation. I liked the idea of him having a little apartment on his own.

I also like the headcanon that Yuri's family is low-key abusive (minus his adorable grandfather). I mean, he has a lot of anger in him, even for a teenager. And the whole 'eyes of a soldier' thing. Yeah, his home life probably isn't great. But he makes his skating friends his family. If that even makes sense.

Reviews would be appreciated! I'm nice, I swear (: