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The stairwell smelled faintly like old carpet cleaner and someone’s rotten pizza, but Jack didn’t care. Compared to their last apartment, which was currently being fumigated thanks to the Great Roach Invasion of Earth, this new place was paradise.
“Okay, careful with that box,” Jack said, adjusting his grip as he hauled another load up the stairs.
Behind him, Eric groaned dramatically. “I’m dying. My arms are jelly. This is cruel and unusual punishment. I’m filing a complaint with the Moving Day Union.”
Shawn, trailing behind with a suspiciously tiny shoebox under his arm, snorted. “You don’t get to complain, Matthews. Jack’s carrying half the apartment on his own. Meanwhile, I’ve got—” He opened the lid of the shoebox. “—one mug. Which I fully intend to use as my contribution to our new home.”
Jack shot him a look over his shoulder. “Shawn, you’re supposed to be helping.”
“I am helping,” Shawn said innocently. “Moral support is help.”
Eric staggered up the last step and collapsed onto the landing, dropping his box with a thud. “If I survive this move, it’ll be a miracle. Tell my future children their father died tragically, crushed beneath a box labeled ‘miscellaneous DVDs.’”
“You don’t even own DVDs,” Jack muttered, unlocking the apartment door.
“That’s what makes it tragic,” Eric wheezed.
Inside, the new apartment was a maze of boxes and half assembled furniture. The walls were bare, the carpet smelled faintly like new paint, and the three of them had already claimed different corners as “their” zones.
Jack carried his load straight to the living room, setting it down neatly. Eric flopped onto the nearest stack of cushions like a fainting Victorian maiden. Shawn wandered in behind them, sipping from the mug he’d unearthed, even though it was still empty.
“You know what this place needs?” Shawn said, glancing around. “A giant neon sign that says ‘Welcome to Dysfunctional Roommates, Incorperated’”
Jack rolled his eyes but smiled. “We’ll make it work. It’s bigger than the old place, and best of all, no roaches.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Eric said, wagging a finger. “Those little guys are survivors. They’ll find us.”
Shawn smirked. “You sound like you’re talking about a horror movie villain.”
“They are villains,” Eric insisted. “Roaches are nature’s Terminators.”
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed another box from the stack and motioned to Eric. “Come on, give me a hand with this one.”
Eric groaned but heaved himself upright. Together, they maneuvered the awkward box through the doorway, Jack steady and focused, Eric muttering the whole time.
Halfway up the next flight of stairs, Eric stumbled and practically collapsed onto the box. “That’s it. I can’t go on. Leave me here. Tell the world I loved them.”
Jack laughed, adjusting his grip. “You’re not even carrying the heavier end.”
“That’s subjective,” Eric argued breathlessly. “Emotional weight counts.”
Behind them, Shawn bounded up the stairs with a grocery bag of snacks, perfectly balanced. “Wow. You two make moving look hard. Meanwhile, I’m doing cardio and snack duty. Guess who’s winning?”
Eric flopped against the wall, eyes half closed. “I’m done. This is the end. Goodbye, cruel world.”
Jack nudged him with his shoulder. “You’re fine. Come on, two more steps.”
“No, no,” Eric groaned. “This is where I make my final dramatic speech.” He raised one hand weakly. “Jack…if I die right here, you should know…I love you.”
Jack blinked. His heart skipped, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity buried in Eric’s theatrics. For a second, he thought Eric was still just hamming it up, but the look in his eyes, even half joking, had something real behind it.
So Jack smiled softly and said, “I love you too.”
Eric froze, eyes wide. “Wait, what?”
Jack shifted the box against his hip, his tone steady. “What, I do?”
For a beat, Eric forgot to breathe. Then his lips curved into the kind of smile that was equal parts bashful and thrilled. “Well, that’s just, wow. Okay. That’s good to know.”
Behind them, Shawn groaned loudly. “Seriously? You two pick now to have your rom com confession moment? In a stairwell, while I’m carrying Doritos? Unreal.”
Eric shot him a grin. “You’re just jealous.”
“Of what?” Shawn snorted. “Being sweaty and in love while carrying heavy boxes? Hard pass.”
But he smiled faintly as he brushed past them, muttering something about ‘finally, they admitted it.’
By the end of the day, the three of them sat cross legged on the living room floor, surrounded by boxes, eating takeout straight from the containers. The furniture was half built, their clothes were in random piles, and Eric was still damp with sweat and melodrama.
But when Jack’s knee bumped Eric’s, Eric grinned like it was the best moving day in history.
Shawn sighed dramatically, waving his chopsticks. “New apartment, same disaster energy.”
Jack smiled, sliding an arm around Eric’s shoulders. “Yeah. But this time, it feels like home.”
Eric leaned into him, content despite his earlier theatrics. “See? I told you my death scene was inspiring.”
Shawn shoved another dumpling in his mouth. “If I have to live with this every day, someone better keep the bug spray handy. Because if the roaches don’t kill me, your PDA will.”
Jack and Eric laughed, and Shawn pretended to gag, but deep down, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.