Chapter Text
eleven.
If someone had told Seungcheol that he’d be here when Jeonghan first moved into this building, he would’ve turned a bright shade of red, pointed at his handsome blond (new) neighbor, and asked said someone, if only to confirm: “You mean I’ll be moving in with him? And he’ll be my boyfriend?”
Honestly, Seungcheol still feels the need to ask that, but it might ruin the magic so he won’t. Instead he just smiles at Jeonghan as he walks out of the building, balancing the last three boxes in his arms. The sun hits his yellow-white hair like a halo, bringing a smile to Seungcheol’s lips, and he really can’t believe this. They’ve only been dating for eight months but when Jeonghan popped the question - “do you wanna move in with me?”, over a takeout dinner one night, mouth full of white rice - Seungcheol hadn’t been able to say no. How could he, when they practically live together already? How could he, when Jeonghan is everything he wants in a friend, a boyfriend, a roommate, a person?
Jeonghan pushes himself off the moving van and greets Seungcheol with a soft kiss. “Thank you for getting those last boxes for me, baby.”
“Of course,” Seungcheol says, shifting them between his side and his arm so he can brush strands of Jeonghan’s hair from his eyes; Jeonghan smiles, showing off his teeth, and Seungcheol’s stomach twists. The day he stops loving Jeonghan will be the day his soul ceases to exist, he knows. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt or anything.”
He giggles quietly and reaches for a couple of the boxes, and they walk to the back of the van together, to pack everything up (Seungcheol takes a moment to ogle Jeonghan’s ass as he fits the boxes into empty spaces). And once the door is pulled shut and locked, Seungcheol pulls Jeonghan close. Winds an arm around him, leans his head against his, and they look at the front of the building together. At the main door they’ve both walked through countless times, up at the windows they looked out of countless times. At the memories they’ve made here, both together and on their own. Silence ensues and Seungcheol doesn’t mind it; he’d rather bask in the warmth of the sun on this spring day, the warmth of Jeonghan’s body against his, than speak.
He moved in three years ago. Met Jeonghan a year after that, almost to the day. And now here he is. Saying goodbye to the building that stole his money and portions of his mental health with its cheap workmanship - but it gave him so much in return. So much that makes it all absolutely, completely, one hundred percent worth it.
“I don’t think I’ll miss this piece of shit apartment,” Jeonghan mutters, squeezing Seungcheol’s waist. “I mean, I’ll miss Jihoon but… that’s about it.”
“And he said he’ll be over at the new place a lot anyway, since it’s closer to Soonyoung,” Seungcheol says. And while a part of him shares Jeonghan’s utter hatred of this building, well… he has to appreciate at least one thing about it. So he murmurs a soft, “I’m glad you moved here,” that’s almost lost to the soft breeze.
Jeonghan shifts against him, turns to nuzzle his nose against Seungcheol’s cheek. “Me too.”
It doesn’t take them very long to unload the truck when they get to the new place (Soonyoung and Jihoon help, and there’s minimal complaining from all of them as they revolve through the elevator with a myriad of boxes), and then they return the truck and then… then they unpack. It’s more Jeonghan singing and dancing to the music Seungcheol has playing and Seungcheol trying not to drop things because he’s too busy watching and laughing with his boyfriend than unpacking but they try. And it’ll take a few days to get the apartment how they want it - but for now, this is okay.
It’s bigger than the other apartments, a bit more expensive, built better - most importantly, it’s in both of their names. Has both of their things in it. Has pieces of them, that prove their existence, their belonging in each other’s lives instead of passing phantoms that live next door.
Most importantly, Jeonghan is here with him and Seungcheol can’t believe they didn’t do this so much earlier.
That night they’re both too worn out to even think about sex, so after dinner and a shower they just curl up in bed (they brought Seungcheol’s with them, since it’s comfier). The lights that filter through the window are different, the walls are different, the smells hanging in the air are different… but none of that matters because there’s one pivotal thing that’s still the same.
Jeonghan pats Seungcheol’s chest with a heavy sigh and rolls onto his stomach, hugging his - his - pillow close to him. “Well… good night. Roomie.”
Seungcheol smiles and reaches out towards his bedside table to flick off his lamp. “Good night, roomie. I love you.”
Jeonghan’s response is muffled into the pillow already.