Chapter Text
"Takao!"
"What, Shin-chan?" Takao yelled from where he was sitting in the kitchen surrounded by half-unpacked boxes.
"What is this?"
"What's what?"
"This, Takao."
Takao sighed, extricated himself from the piles of dishes and kitchen appliances, and picked his way carefully to the bedroom to see what his boyfriend was upset about this time. When he finally succeeded in navigating through the maze of boxes in the living room and hallway, he found Midorima pointing at their bookshelf and looking insulted.
"What's wrong with it?" he asked. Midorima had been stuck working the overnight shift at the hospital the previous night, and Takao was rather proud of himself for unpacking most of the bedroom in that time.
"It's all out of order."
"What do you mean it's out of order? I alphabetized it and everything."
"That's the problem! It's all jumbled up now. There's no way to tell the fiction from the non-fiction, and my reference books are split up all over the place. There are some things that should never meet, and your sports humor and my critical care handbooks are two of them!"
Takao sighed again. He should have known better than to try to organize any of Midorima's things; his boyfriend had very particular ideas about how the universe should be ordered. "You can rearrange them if you want, Shin-chan," he said, leaning in to give Midorima a quick hug. Midorima glared at him, but didn't make any move to push him away. The moment Takao released him, he started pulling books off of the shelves and making new piles on the floor and the bed.
"Have fun, Shin-chan," Takao said as he bounced back to the kitchen. As aggravating and time-consuming as the whole moving process was, he couldn't help but be excited. He and Midorima had been living together for years, but this was the first apartment they had moved into as a couple rather than as roommates.