The apartment was chaos.
Boxes everywhere, furniture half-assembled, Adrian's meticulously labeled containers stacked against one wall while Dante's haphazardly packed bags formed a mountain by the door.
"Where do you want the couch?" Marcus asked, struggling with one end while Dante held the other.
Wait. Marcus.
Marcus was here. Marcus was helping them move in.
Adrian still couldn't quite process it. Marcus Rodriguez—Dante's older brother who'd been distant and critical for years, who'd barely acknowledged Dante's coming out, who'd made family dinners tense with his uncomfortable silences—was currently sweating through a t-shirt while helping them move furniture into their shared apartment.
Something had shifted. Something significant.
"Against the far wall," Dante directed, breathing hard. "No, the other far wall. Your left."
"My left or your left?"
"Does it matter? They're the same left!"
"Not when we're facing opposite directions!"
