Chapter Text
Yuuri wished he’d asked for help.
He frantically threw streamers onto the wall. Colourful balloons strung onto ribbon were to be hung from one side of the room to the other. He still had to pick up the cake from the bakery not too far from here. He was determined to make this the best birthday Viktor’s ever had.
He just had half an hour to do it all.
Makkachin was dozing on the sofa next to the houseplant. As much as he didn’t want to leave Viktor’s prized pet behind, if he was going to pick up the cake on time, he had no other choice.
Yuuri wiped a tear of sweat from his forehead and slipped his phone out of his pocket. He and Viktor had moved into a new home in Japan a few weeks after Yuuri grabbed silver at the Grand Prix final. They both agreed it would make things convenient for both coaching and the development of their relationship.
After scrolling through a list of contacts, he pulled up a call from the one he was looking for.
‘Hello?’ He heard an overly passionate voice call from the other side of the line.
‘Phichit-kun,’ Yuuri responded warily. Lowering his voice, ‘How is it with Viktor?’
‘Yuuri! Everything is divine!’ Phichit gushed, ‘it appears that Viktor loves taking selfies, so we’re taking a whole bunch! He’s totally into it! There are so many things in Japan-'
‘Could you send someone over to help me? I don’t think I can get everything done on time.’
‘Oh,’ he heard the other mumble, ‘we got five people here, who-’
‘Anyone would be fine,’ interrupted Yuuri before ending the call and tossing his phone to the side.
Then, after a big breath, he continued his work.
*
He just finished all the wall decorations when there was a crude knock at the door. Makkachin leapt from the sofa, now awake from his nap.
Yuuri peeped through the doorhole but barely made out the face of his guest before swinging the door open.
‘Hi, fat katsudon,’ the guest barked.
‘Hello Yurio,’ Yuuri acknowledged, ignoring the insult, ‘I guess you’ve come to help?’
Yuri stepped into the house, removing his coat to reveal a gorgeous red sweater that complimented his black jeans. Yuuri looked down at his outfit, consisting of an old navy blue and dark sweats, and couldn’t help but feel underdressed.
Yuri threw his coat into Yuuri’s arms, which he fumbled to catch. ‘What do I do?’ he grumbled.
Yuuri hid a tiny smile. ‘Could you hang these strings of balloons in rows, like this?’ He proceeded to pick up a string of balloons and climbed onto a tiny plastic stool, holding up the end of the string to where the ceiling met the wall.
‘Give me that,’ Yuri snapped. Yuuri handed him the string and stepped off the chair, allowing Yuri to step up onto the chair and hang the string of balloons up. Yuuri watched as Yuri tried to place the end of the strong where Yuuri instructed him to, but he couldn’t quite reach it.
Yuuri couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as he watched the short blonde jump and tiptoe, struggling to reach the top of the wall.
Finally, Yuuri asked, ‘Do you want a bigger sto-’
‘Give me something else to do,’ Yuri muttered, letting the string fall to the ground completely and leaping off the stool. He tried to hide his flushed face.
‘Okay,’ Yuuri said, as he grabbed his coat, ‘I need to pick up Viktor’s cake-’
‘You even bought a cake for him? Disgusting,’ Yuri interrupted.
‘Yeah,’ Yuuri responded as he slipped on his coat, ‘so could you watch Makkachin for me?’
Yuri just pulled out his phone, and Yuuri went out the door anyway.
‘Finally, some peace,’ Yuri sighed as he flopped onto the sofa. He started scrolling through his Instagram feed. The first photo that appeared was one of Viktor, Phichit, Chris, Otabek and JJ posted on Phichit’s account a few minutes ago.
Yuri observed the scenery in the photo. ‘That’s near here.’ He turned so that he was lying on the sofa with his head and legs lying on the arm rests. ‘They must be coming soon.’
Could you watch Makkachin for me? Yuuri’s words repeated in his head again.
Yuri huffed and sprung into the kitchen, where he thought Makkachin would be feasting on his dog treats and resting, just so no one could say he didn’t check on the dog.
‘Huh?’ Yuri grumbled when at first sight there was no sign of the pup. He continued walking into the den, but despite there being Makkachin’s bed and food bowls near the fireplace, there was no sign of him.
After checking the bathroom, Yuri climbed the stairs to skim the second floor, then the basement, but he didn’t find the pup anywhere.
‘Shit,’ Yuri cursed. He closed the door to the basement and returned to his starting point when he noticed that the entrance door was slightly open, letting in a small, cold brisk of air.
‘Shit,’ Yuri repeated, and he scrambled to the door and to find Makkachin outside dancing under a tree, paws leaving marks in the light layer of snow, eyes on a squirrel that nested on a high branch.
Yuri was bad at counselling dogs. He was a cat person. ‘Boy...come back,’ he yelled.
Makkachin ignored him.
Yuri didn’t give up. ‘Makkachin! Oi!’
Then, the squirrel moved, and that’s what made Makkachin lose it. He clawed at the tree and barked, the poor squirrel rushing to the top of the tree in fear.
Yuri jumped into his boots and ran outside into the cold in his sweater. He blocked the street so that the dog didn’t accidently tumble into a way of a car, and shooed the dog back into the house. He yelled. He barked. Finally, the dog scurried into the house and Yuri with it.
‘God, I hate dogs,’ he muttered, shutting the door behind him. He looked up and panicked. ‘Oi!’
Makkachin had not quite calmed down from the squirrel, and the pup was running around the living room, popping the balloons that Yuuri had spent time blowing.
‘No! Wait,’ Yuri blurted, now slipping out of his boots and chasing the dog around the house, having no other idea on how to stop the dog from wreaking havoc. The dog was too fast.
Makkachin jumped on and off the sofa, his ears catching some of the streamers that were hung on the wall. Now, he ran on four legs with streamers fluttering in the air from his ears, and Yuri was a mess.
The dog entered the kitchen, and Yuri stopped chasing it, hoping that he would come out from the other entrance of the kitchen. He waited, and when he saw Makkachin galloping towards him, he dove forward, arms out, in an attempt to catch the dog. However, Makkachin seemed to have anticipated the move and jumped over Yuri. He knocked down a vase in the process and shattered its contents.
‘Ugh!’ Yuri screamed as he rolled over and tried to grab Makkachin’s tail, but he too was covered in streamers as well as burst balloon pieces. Everything was a mess, and Yuuri was not going to be happy.
As if it were just Yuri’s luck, Yuuri stumbled through the doorstep only to find his fellow skating competitor sprawled across the floor covered in party decorations, his fiance’s dog scampering throughout the entire house and his home in ruins.
‘What’s happen-’ Yuuri began, but Makkachin had already eyed the bright box that Yuuri held in his hands, and jumped right into it, knocking it out of his hands and into the air. It opened, and the delicious cake went splat, right into Yuuri’s face. Yuuri’s fell at the impact, and his face was now a beautiful mix of blue and white icing.
‘Makkachin!’ Yuuri cried, and Makkachin dove straight out the door. Yuuri gave an extremely dissatisfied, disappointed face to Yuri, who laid only a few feet away from him.
‘It wasn’t my fault!’ Yuri wailed, waving his hands in the air.
‘Whatever,’ Yuuri hissed, and boy, he could hear the anger in his voice. ‘What time is it? They’re gonna bring Viktor back soon, let’s-’
‘We’re almost there!’ a voice chirped from outside. Yuuri and Yuri looked at each other in panic and sprung from their seated positions. He could hear Makkachin’s barking getting closer too, which meant-
The 5 skaters made their way through the doorstep before Chris swiftly removed the blindfold that covered Viktor’s eyes. Then their eyes moved to Yuuri, Yuri, and the rest of the house, which was practically dead.
The two messed up boys wrapped an arm around each other and plastered a fake smile on each other’s faces.
‘Happy Birthday Viktor!’ the boys chimed with mocked enthusiasm, and they heard the living room chandelier fall behind them and shatter on the floor.
It was a job well done.